𖦹 Unfolded | Chapter 3

Myy backk hurtsss soo badd.. and i have no motivation to doo nothinn.. (ㄒ︵ㄒ)

MMMMM Orange juice

FIDDLEFIRD PROMPT FIDDLEFORD PROMPT

Mister country boy meeting a goth/rebel kind of reader and he is just putty but very embarrassed about it

Golden reviver boy and black cat gn

My P.U.N.K. Girl

warnings — SFW, just fluff, young!fiddleford, college fiddleford implied, gn reader

summary —Fiddleford x Alternative!reader headcanons

<𝟑 Imagine a small town country bumpkin who barely left the farm seeing a goth or punk person for the first time.

<𝟑 Your first meeting wasn’t even a meeting, because he was looking at you from a distance and ran into a pole.

<𝟑 Maybe you finally call him out on his staring, by marching at him very confused, and almost angrily. Presumably in the 70s, most states you got were with fowl intent.

“Why are you always doing that?” You ask, “Staring at me like I have a third head.”

His eyes widened. “Why I— I reckon your most striking person i’ve ever seen,” then he blushed and shrank back into himself, “If I may say so myself, [ma’am/sir].”

Your tone softened, “oh.”

<𝟑 He’d be so smitten with his alternative partner, thinking you’re breathtaking in every way.

<𝟑 The way you decorate yourself is just as fascinating to him as the politics of it all which, being as sheltered as him, he knew little about before you.

<𝟑 He doesn’t understand a lot of it, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think you’re beautiful.

<𝟑 Imagine getting him all dolled up like you one time, after hours of persistence.

“I don’t know ‘bout this, darling, I think i’m better off—“ He’d try to say before you turn his chair around to face the mirror.

You shush him. “What about now?” He looked at himself and studied his face and clothes.

“Imagine me in this old getup— I look ridiculous!” He’d almost laugh.

You release a giddy giggle, “You look amazing!”

<𝟑 These movements are very rooted in politics, so imagine dragging him to a protest. He would probably feel incredibly out of place, poor thing.

<𝟑 He’d be so blushy around you, he just thinks your so breathtaking and bold, it’s hard not to get weak in the knees when your here.

<𝟑 If you have a punk or goth band that goes with your subculture, he’d be at every show! Despite how loud it is, and even if he’s swamped in work.

<𝟑 Picture him in the back, stopping his twiddling with his mechanics to look up at you, being utterly yourself. Perfect.

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.

─Cold Espresso

∘₊✧─── ❀ ───✧₊∘

★ Pairing: Fiddleford McGucket x Reader

✦ Genre: Fluff? Friends to Not-Yet-Lovers???

★ Warning: None

✦ Summary: You and your old buddy from college decided to meet up at the usual coffee shop you two used to visit. Though I don't think neither the two of you planned for something to go in another way you didn't expect..

Note: I feel like he doesn't get much lovee and I think hes adorable. Im not sure what the title should be so..

The café is just as you remember it. The brick exterior hasn’t aged a day, and the sign that reads "Becky's Brews" still hangs slightly crooked above the door. You stand outside for a moment, taking in the familiar scene, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. It’s been years since you last set foot here, and longer still since you shared this space with McGucket. The memories come rushing back, a collage of late-night study sessions and laughter echoing through these very walls.

Pushing the door open, you’re greeted by the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The inside hasn’t changed much either—the same warm lighting, the mismatched furniture that somehow feels cohesive, and the old jukebox in the corner that’s always playing a tune just loud enough to be heard, but not so loud as to intrude on conversations.

You scan the room, and there he is—Fiddleford McGucket, sitting at your usual table by the window, just like old times. He looks up as you approach, and a grin spreads across his face as he waved you over.

"Well, if it ain’t the ol’ bookworm ‘emself!" he exclaims, standing up to give you a hug. His accent, thick and unmistakably Southern, wraps around you like a warm blanket. You’ve always loved the way he talks, the way his words roll off his tongue with a drawl that’s both comforting and endearing.

"Hey, Fidds," you reply, smiling as you embrace him. His arms are tight 'round you, and for a moment, you’re transported back to those carefree college days when everything seemed simpler, when your biggest worry was acing the next exam or deciding where to grab lunch.

"You ain’t changed a bit," he says adjusting his glasses as you both sit down. "Still got that same ol’ smile, too. How’s life been treatin’ ya?"

You chuckle, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. "Life’s been... different. Busy, mostly. How about you?"

Fidds leans back in his chair, he fixed his glasses as his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Busy’s one way to put it. Ain’t nothin’ too excitin’, but I’ve been gettin’ by. Missed this place, though. Missed hangin’ out with you."

His words catch you off guard, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. You’ve missed him too, more than you realized.

"I missed you too, Fidds. It’s been way too long."

He nods, a serious expression crossing his face. "Yeah, it has. Too damn long. But we’re here now, ain’t we? Let’s make the most of it."

For the next hour, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm, slipping back into the kind of banter that only old friends share. You talk about everything—your jobs, your families, the places you’ve been, the things you’ve seen. Fidds tells you about what he'd been working on; how he spends his days in his garage, creating techs; how well hes actually getting by, getting a job offering at some place. You tell him about your career, the ups and downs, and how you’ve been searching for something more, though you’re not quite sure what that "more" is.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself noticing things about Fiddleford that you hadn’t paid much attention to before. The way his eyes light up when he talks about something he’s passionate about, the way his hands move when he gestures, the sound of his laughter—it’s all so familiar, yet somehow different. There’s a spark between you, something unspoken but palpable, and it catches you off guard.

"So," Fidds drawls, leaning forward with a playful grin, "anyone special in your life these days? Or are ya still too busy chasin’ that dream of yours?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

"No, no one special," you reply, trying to sound casual. "I’ve been too focused on work, I guess."

Fidds raises an eyebrow. "Really now? Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ ambitious, but a pretty thing like you, I reckon you could have anyone you wanted if ya tried."

You laugh, though your cheeks flush slightly at the compliment. "I could say the same about you, Fidds. What about you? Anyone special?"

He shrugs, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. "Nah, no one right now. Haven’t found the right person, I suppose. But who knows, maybe I just ain’t been lookin’ in the right places."

His words linger in the air, and for the first time, you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The easygoing conversation between old friends suddenly feels charged with something more, something you hadn’t anticipated. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but there’s a tension now, a pull that you can’t ignore.

The afternoon sun filters through the window, casting a warm glow over the table. Fidds’s gaze locks onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. There’s a question in his eyes, something he’s holding back, and you can feel the weight of it pressing against the silence.

Finally, he breaks the moment with a soft chuckle, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Well, look at us, gettin’ all serious. We’re supposed to be catchin’ up, not diggin’ into each other’s love lives."

You smile, though your mind is still racing. "Yeah, you’re right. Let’s not get too deep, huh?"

But even as you say it, you know that something has changed between you and Fidds. The old friendship is still there, but there’s something new too—something that makes your heart beat a little faster, something that leaves you wondering what might happen if you both stopped holding back.

────

The afternoon drifts into evening as the conversation between you and Fidds meanders through old memories and new musings. The light outside has dimmed, and the soft, warm glow of the café's hanging lights creates a cozy atmosphere that wraps around the two of you like a blanket. As you talk, the world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this little bubble of familiarity and something... more.

Fiddleford leans back in his chair, tipping it slightly as he balances on the two back legs, a mischievous grin on his face. "Remember that time we tried sneakin’ into the library after hours? You were so dead set on gettin’ that book for your paper, and I was just along for the ride."

You laugh, shaking your head at the memory. "How could I forget? We almost got caught by campus security. I thought we were going to get expelled or something."

"Aw, shucks," Fiddleford drawls, his grin widening, "they wouldn’t’ve expelled ya. You were their star student. Now me, on the other hand… they probably wouldn’t’ve batted an eye if I’d just disappeared."

"Don’t say that," you chide, though you know he’s joking. "You were always smarter than you gave yourself credit for."

His expression softens, and he gives you a look that’s half-teasing, half-serious. "Yeah, well, it’s easier to believe that when you got someone like you around. You always made me feel like I could do more, be more."

You don’t know how to respond to that. There’s an intensity in his eyes that’s different from the playful banter you’re used to. It’s as if he’s seeing you in a way he never has before, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re seeing him differently too.

The conversation lulls, and the silence between you is thick with unspoken words. Fidds takes a deep breath, his chair coming back down to all four legs as he leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. He’s closer now, close enough that you can see your own reflection in his eyes.

"Can I tell ya somethin’?" he asks, his voice low, almost hesitant.

You nod, your heart starting to race again. "Yeah.. Sure? What is it?"

Fidds looks down at his hands, fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of him. When he looks back up, there’s a vulnerability in his gaze that you’ve never seen before. "I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while now... and, well, maybe it’s just the nostalgia talkin’, but… I think I missed more than just our friendship."

The words hang in the air between you, and your breath catches in your throat. You don’t know what to say, but the way he’s looking at you makes it clear that he’s waiting for some kind of response.

Before you can find the words, the door to the café opens with a jingle, breaking the moment. A group of people walk in, laughing and chatting as they find a table near the counter. The noise disrupts the moment, and you see Fidds pull back slightly, the intensity in his eyes dimming as if he’s suddenly unsure of himself.

You’re unsure too. There’s a part of you that wants to reach across the table, to take his hand and tell him that you feel the same way, that maybe there’s something more between you than just friendship. But there’s also a part of you that’s scared—scared of what this could mean, of what might happen if you cross that line.

Fidds clears his throat, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Maybe I’m just talkin’ nonsense. We’ve had a lot of good times, haven’t we? I’m just glad we’re still in each other’s lives."

You can see the effort he’s putting into pulling back, into pretending that the moment didn’t happen. But it did, and now the air between you feels different, charged with the possibilities of what could be.

Before you can decide what to do next, Fidds stands up, stretching his arms above his head as he brushed his fingers in his hair. "Whew, it’s gettin’ late. How ‘bout we head out? Walk ya to your car?"

You blink, surprised by how quickly the conversation has turned, but you find yourself nodding. "Yeah─ Yeah, sure. That sounds good."

The two of you gather your things and head for the door. The evening air is cool against your skin as you step outside, and you walk in silence for a few moments, your mind racing with everything that’s been left unsaid.

When you reach your car, Fidds turns to you, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looks at you for a long moment, as if he’s trying to decide whether to say something or let it go.

Finally, he speaks, his voice soft. "I meant what I said back there. I’ve missed more than just our friendship. But... I ain’t gonna push ya into somethin’ you’re not ready for. Just... uh.. think about it, okay?"

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. "I will.. I promise."

He smiles, a small, almost sad smile, and then he steps back, giving you a little wave. "Night, then. We’ll talk soon?"

"Yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "We’ll talk soon."

As you watch him walk away, a thousand thoughts swirl in your mind. The possibility of something more between you and Fiddleford is real, and it terrifies you as much as it excites you. You know that whatever happens next, things between you will never be the same.

You get into your car, your hands trembling slightly as you grip the steering wheel. For a long moment, you just sit there, staring out the windshield at the fading figure of Fidds as he walks down the street. And then, just as he’s about to turn the corner and disappear from view, you make a decision. You open the car door and step out, your heart racing as you call out his name.

He stops, turning around to look at you, his expression unreadable.

"Fidds," you say, your voice trembling with emotion, "I—"

But before you can finish, the sound of your phone ringing cuts through the night, startling you both. You glance down at the screen, recognizing the name of your boss flashing across it.

You hesitate, torn between answering the call and the words you were about to say. Fidds watches you, waiting, the moment hanging in the balance.

And just like that, the decision is taken out of your hands. You silence the phone, looking back at Fidds, but the spell is broken.

"I... I’ll call you," you manage to say, knowing that the conversation will have to wait.

Fidds nods, a flicker of something like hope in his eyes. "Yeah... sure thing. Take care, okay?"

You watch as he turns and walks away, the opportunity slipping through your fingers. And as you stand there, alone in the quiet of the night, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve just might've let something important slip away.

Sooo.. How was it?? Good? bad? Feel like I didn't do him much justice (.∘ˊ◠ˋ∘.)

If this get enough notes I'll maybe continue it?? Oh, I also changed the layout a bit, if you did notice :D

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

⋆˚࿔ 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⭑

*Casualy drops this*

Its been in my drafts for so long... But I think i need to show her some love!!

YOU GUYSS!! MEET RYUUYA!!! WHOHOOO

(Im too lazy to make her pose for the character info thingy, so take this one instead :•3)

I posted this in the middle of the night and im so tired, might edit this later

Trying the gravity Falls artstyle.. Im bad at adapting!! why is drawing cartoony and cutesy soo hard!! 😭

Dinner datee

Remember me when youre famous 🍎<3

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