Twst Ace X Reader - Tumblr Posts

OH MY GOD. THE MIX UP VALENTINE POST. YOU ATE!!!! could i rq a version with riddle, ace, deuce, octavinelle, and lillia? 🫶🫶

SUMMARY: you get a gift that was meant for the student you like, and the contents spur you to action.

COMMENTS: this is a spin off post of this post!! IM GLAD U LIKED IT ANON i was proud of that one myself ehehe

also the character limit is five so i picked azul from octavinelle

You stare blankly at the box of chocolate in your hands, the gift crammed into your desk haphazardly. At first, you thought it was for you—that’s what anyone would assume, right? Except...the note on top of it is not addressed to you, but rather, the guy you like. It makes you wonder if this is some joke, or if one of his friends wanted you to deliver it for him. You pick at the heart sticker sealing the note shut and peel it open, taking a peak of the contents.

Your eyes wide and your heart lurches in your chest, panic and annoyance roaring like red hot flames as you read what sounds like a genuine confession of love. Someone had their eyes on him? How did you never notice?

Was it weird to get jealous? I mean, he’s not even dating you yet...you don’t even know if he feels the same way. You can’t deny it doesn’t feel good that there’s another student trying to woo him, though. You’ve been so scared up until this point, so nervous about what he might think, but the clock is ticking. You’ve got to tell him before it’s too late.

Riddle sits up even straighter when he sees you approaching him with a heart shaped box and an envelope, his cheeks flushing pink. He clears his throat when you arrive, expression all twisted up as if you’re unhappy about something. Riddle turns to look at you, holding his chin high as he addresses you by name.

“Do you have something to tell me?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“This is a pathetic gift for the Queen of Hearts.” you reply dryly, throwing the gifts on the ground and stomping on them, “Someone thought that would be enough for you, but I won’t stand for it.”

Riddle stares open mouthed at the torn envelope and crushed box of chocolates, but a giant bundle of roses blocks his line of sight.

“This.” you say, a bouquet of roses in one hand and an entire strawberry tart in the other, with the truffles from the box placed in a circle around it in your hands, “Is a far more fitting gift for courting the queen.”

Deuce freezes after he reads the note you gave him with a sour face, cheeks turning pink. He wonders why you look so upset when you just confessed how much you like him—even though the words seem a bit off...

“See, Deuce? I told you you were popular.” you scoff, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

You glare so intensely at the envelope that Deuce feels your anger and jealousy.

“Is this...not from you?” he asks softly, his heart plummeting out of his body. And here he was, getting all delighted and cheesy about it—

“Nah. It’s not.” you say flippantly, “I’m confessing my feelings in a much better way.”

Deuce gasps when you pull out a bouquet of dark blue roses, kneeling at his feet as you take his hand. He swears you see hearts in his eyes as he stares at the flowers and your face, which look up at him with determination he knows all too well.

“Deuce Spade, I want you to be mine.” you declare, and his legs turn to jelly as he babbles out an enthusiastic yes.

“I can’t believe someone who isn't me likes your dumbass.” you smack Ace’s arm as he snickers over the note, an immature gesture if there ever was one.

“Well, if you like this dumbass what does that make you, huh? A stupidass?” he quips, knocking his whole body against you.

You squeal and shove him back, sticking your tongue out at his shocked face as he falls off the bed.

“Really!? This is how you’re confessing your love to me?” Ace huffs, playful as always, “I want a divorce.”

“You idiot, I’m just speaking your language!” you snap back, throwing a pillow at his head, “All you do is tease and yap and jab so I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine!”

“Oh you’re on!” Ace jumps to his feet, pillow in hand.

It’s obvious he likes you back. It always has been. And even if that person hadn’t sent that note, you two still would have known just how much you care for each other, even if it remains (mostly) unsaid.

(You still trampled that note at least ten times during your pillow fight though.)

“Is this some kind of joke?” Azul says blandly, placing the letter down on his desk of his VIP Room, “This obviously isn’t your handwriting, nor is it your style of writing.”

“That’s because it’s not mine.” you say just as blandly, raising an eyebrow as Azul looks over his spectacles at you, “Were you hoping it was?”

“What is the purpose of this visit then? You bring me some random letter with a confession of love...don’t tell me you’re hoping to butter me up.” Azul chuckles, standing up as gracefully as ever, “You should know better than anyone that those tricks do not work on me.”

You stand up as well, arms crossed over your chest as you meet his stare with your own.

“Because, Azul, someone left that note in my desk. It was addressed to you, as you can see, so I bought it for you. What you just read is what encouraged me to take action.” you take a deep breath and summon all of your courage, there truly is no turning back now, “Azul, I am interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with you. I can assure you I’ve thought this over many times before coming to you with this proposal. If you’re willing, I would love to sit down and have a talk about the terms and conditions of this deal.”

You hold out your hand for a handshake.

Azul’s mouth forms an o shape, and for a second you’d say he looks shocked, but he composes himself quickly as is all too inclined to place his hand in yours.

“Well, well, well!” he beams, voice light and airy with what you can only assume is joy, “Let’s get negotiations underway, shall we?”

“Aww, you shouldn’t have.” Lilia coos, bringing a hand up to his mouth, “Why do you look so sour, sweets?”

“Because it’s not from me. It was stuffed in my desk and addressed to you.” you wrinkle your nose, the envelope clenched in your fist, “I don’t like the idea of someone confessing to you before I could.”

Lilia giggles, still hiding his mouth behind his hand. You stare blankly at him, tapping your foot so hard your ankle starts to cramp up.

“Oh, no need to look so anxious, dear. I’m sure you’re well aware of where my affections lie, yes?” Lilia approaches you, his fingers intertwining with yours as the envelope flutters to the floor, unnoticed and uncared for.

He doesn’t have much time left. He’s loved and he’s lost, he may as well go for what he wants while it’s still here, in front of him.

“That is such an indirect way of confessing.” you groan, squeezing his hand, “I even got you a whole bag of mystery flavored red lollipops...”

“Gifts are best shared, my dear!” Lilia laughs, pulling you over to his bed, “Now, hurry up! I want to see which flavor I get first!”

Hi! How's it going?

Can I please request Leona, Riddle, Cater and Ace reacting to the reader wearing someone else's jacket?

‧₊˚✧New Jacket, Who Dis? ‧₊˚✧

↳ forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  

feat: Leona ❋ Riddle ❋ Cater ❋ Ace genre: humor, fluff note: no pronouns used for reader, reader is implied to be smaller than Floyd, nicknames used for reader (cutie, babe, baby), established relationships, reader is implied to be from Ramshackle,

I swear I will get these requests completed even if it kills me. Damn my tendency to go into hibernation during winter! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the reading ^///^

Part 1 2.7k followers writing event

Leona has jackets? 

I mean, you were sure Leona owns a plethora of high-end jackets and outerwear of the finest fabrics but be it a preference or perhaps too much of an effort, you rarely see the beastman wear anything other than a shirt and at best a dorm-mandated vest.

So, when you feel a chill down your spine on your way to class, the idea of asking your boyfriend for a jacket did not cross your mind. Can’t ask for what you’ve never seen.

A classmate of yours saw your pitiful form and offered you his school blazer. Something better than nothing, he thought. 

Grateful, you were quick to take up his kind offer and practically snuggled your face into it for warmth. Now in a better mood, you got through the first half of the day and quickly made your way to the greenhouse where you suspect a certain lion beastman is hiding. 

But it seems that said beastman wasn’t in high spirits as you were when with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, he raised his palm towards you signaling you to step no closer to him. 

An unfamiliar scent unpleasantly wafted through Leona’s territory, and to his annoyance, you appeared to be the source of it. 

No, not you…That wretched jacket.

Leona doesn’t have to ask. He can surmise the situation on his own, the weather was chilly, you being stupid enough to leave without something cozy, and some brave or stupid herbivore handing you something with his scent even though you were the partner of a beastman. Though irritating, logically this was not something surprising… but he doesn’t have to like it regardless. 

And he doesn’t. 

Pointing towards you, he further narrowed his gaze on the jacket that has tainted you with its irritating stench of another man. “Oi, take it off.” 

Though confused, you did as he said (lest you want him even grumpier, you thought) and placed your friend’s jacket onto Leona’s outstretched hand. 

Suddenly and without warning, the dark-haired upperclassman harshly tossed the fabric to a random direction, with such feelings of disgust and annoyance radiating off from Leona, you would think the jacket spat in his meal or something. 

But no matter how many times you tried to ask for his reasons or how many times you begged him to let you go after pulling you into his arms so you could retrieve the abandoned jacket, Leona said nothing as he kept his grip strong around you as he fell asleep once more, lulled by your unobstructed scent. 

“Ruggie can grab my jacket for you so quit harping about it…You feel bad for Ruggie for the trouble? Tch, who’s fault you think that is?”

Riddle’s appearance is perfect to a T. From his bow tie to his socks, the Heartslabyul housewarden chooses his attire to what is required; nothing is missing and nothing in excess. 

Basically, he wouldn’t have a spare jacket nor can he part away from the required blazer of his school uniform despite how he honestly wanted to. 

You understood his hesitance completely and didn’t probe further. Unfortunately, it left you noticeably shivering, and Floyd just had to mention your shivering form akin to a jittery guppy. Learning your predicament, the tall mischief-maker had a fun idea. 

Which led to you finally leaving the classroom after Floyd finished his giggling fit seeing you looking practically devoured by his jacket. Floyd is a tall eel merman so the length of the sleeves and hem were certainly longer than an average uniform. 

“Go ahead and wear it, just give it back later.” The sophomore graciously lent his jacket to you, but you suspected that he just wanted to prolong the humiliation.

At least you were grateful he wasn’t there to laugh at you when Riddle saw you in this mortifying position. The taller student would have probably coughed up his human lungs from laughing at your boyfriend's stunned expression. 

“I…What is…” Riddle was dumbfounded. The sight of his beloved being swallowed by a jacket was not something he suspected. It is an amusing image to see, but definitely odd. 

What’s the procedure for this? This was hardly appropriate school attire, but Riddle was stumped as to what to do next since he can’t think of a rule that addresses your lover being dressed in someone else’s jacket in a comical fashion. 

Despite unable to complete his prior sentence, you knew what Riddle wanted to know. “…It’s Floyd’s. He thought it’d be funny.” 

There was a burning sensation bubbling in Riddle when he thought about the Octavinelle rascal, how close and unnecessarily clingy he probably was to you as he took glee in his nonsensical pranks. Then, an unpleasant thought sat in the redhead’s mind as he watched you roll up the sleeves of Floyd’s jacket draped over your form. That eel gave you his jacket while Riddle, your boyfriend, didn’t.

"I supposed I should have expected this, given my choice."

Riddle let out a sigh before extending a hand to you, his face flushing a familiar red hue. “It may be redundant, but perhaps I could offer my own jacket? A warmer one at least, I wouldn’t want you to needlessly catch a cold.” 

Happily, you took the sweet redhead’s offer. Walking together hand-in-hand, Riddle thought he could spare you a scolding about forgetting your jacket in the first place, so long as you rectify his mood by wearing his jacket instead. 

“As your boyfriend it should be my duty to protect and care for you, no one else’s.”

Cater would have no problem with sharing his jacket with you, if he can take some cute pictures of course. His wardrobe has a mixture of trendy and cool clothing due to his time at the Pop Music Club. It wasn't a matter of what he could offer but rather his time to even give this offer.

It was today of all days that he couldn’t find time to himself since there were some last-minute preparations needed for the Unbirthday party. You felt too guilty and nervous to suddenly ask your boyfriend for a jacket in all this commotion, so you tried to handle the cold without one. 

However, a classmate of yours was observant enough to notice your predicament and handed his jacket for the time being. 

You’ve stuck around the Unbirthday party, waiting for the festivities to settle and relax before scanning through the crowd to find the man with a beautiful shade of orange hair. 

But your boyfriend was quicker to find you as he surprised you first, covering your eyes from behind. “Guess who, cutie~?” 

Laughing, you didn’t bother to answer as you immediately spun around to leap straight into Cater’s arms, to which Cater happily returned in kind. 

“Looks like you got yourself some new threads. Almost couldn’t find you, cutie.” Referring to your newly acquired jacket, Cater could see the Heartslabyul emblem sewed onto its sleeve. Raising a quizzical brow, Cater questioned you, “Did you get it from the Adeuce duo?” 

His guess was wrong though as you told him a classmate of yours offered you his jacket, pointing him in the distance with his friends. Well now, that’s interesting. If it were one of his or your friends, that’s fine and dandy…but a random classmate…

Cater genuinely appreciated that his little underclassmen are chivalrous enough to help their fellow peers, but he admits that it’s a little different when it involves you. You’re special to him after all and he gotta make sure only he gets to give you the best boyfie treatment. 

With a smile on his face, Cater gently coaxed you out from the jacket before walking towards the oblivious student. “Let’s give him back his jacket, then we can head over to my room. I’ve got the perfect jacket for you to try out ♪”

“My cutie looks so ‘cammable in my jacket! This is definitely going on Magicam ♪ Oh, should we get matching couple outfits~?"

“Are you ever gonna stop sulking and tell me what’s wrong, Ace?”

“...” 

It doesn’t matter how long you two were dating, Ace would tease you so much if you ask for his jacket, it’s almost not worth it. You could already hear the redhead’s cheeky voice in your head. “Aww, is my baby feeling cold? Do you need your amazing boyfriend to warm you up?” 

Feeling a little petty and not in the mood for his teasing, you instead asked Deuce if he could spare his extra jacket for you. To your luck, he had his track team jacket on hand that he could offer to you. 

Warm and cozy, you met up with Ace who, upon seeing you, unceremoniously draped himself over you as he let out a deep sigh. “Ahh, I was so cold today. Thank Sevens you’re so warm.” 

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back soothingly. Glad you didn’t ask for his jacket, then. 

But as Ace shifted around in your arms, he looked over your jacket from his angle and felt a sneaking suspicion that he had seen it before…but not on you. “Hey babe, where’d you get the jacket from?” 

“Oh, it’s Deuce’s track team jacket. I borrowed it ‘cuz I forgot mine back at Ramshackle.” 

Which led to this predicament in Ace’s room, with the pouty freshman giving you the cold shoulder. Granted, it’s rather cute to see your boyfriend react so childishly over a jacket, but you’d preferred some cuddles right about now. 

But Ace kept on with his act. It may seem like an overreaction but to Ace, knowing that you asked for Deuce instead of him first left a sour taste in his mouth and a blow to his ego. He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, ain’t he? 

You sighed, having no choice but to “right your wrong”, then. 

Crawling to where your lover was, you leaned into the crook of his neck as your arms circled his waist. “Don’t be mad, I’m so cold and I need my strong, handsome boyfriend to warm me up with hugs~ Aaacceee…” 

Still met with silence, you upped the ante and started to press small pecks against his neck where you felt were getting hot and bumpy from your touch. Hiding your satisfied smile, you continued your onslaught of praises and coos. 

Damn you and your cuteness, he thought. Breaking his cold facade, Ace groaned in frustration as he pulled you into his arms, giving into the cuddles you wanted. 

“If you need something, you’d better be thinking of me first before anyone else, especially Deuce. Have some faith in your boyfriend here.”

Legit best Ace fic I've ever read

❥ ❥ ❝ miss me already? ❞

ace trappola x gn!reader | wc: 6.8k~

summary: your boyfriend (of now approximately a minute and 47 seconds) makes a bet with you: “those idiots”—your best friends of first-years—” won’t even notice a thing even if we weren’t dating.” and the funniest part? he’s probably right.

warnings: pure fluff! shenanigans! lots of cursing! friends (idiots) to lovers. one joke-gendered term of milady but i think that meme is gender universal lol (coming from a masc nb)

a/n: this is for @dulcesiabits's “who is the prefect dating?!” collaboration on tumblr! thank you so so much for allowing me to write for ace, the little man, the stinky guy. also MAJOR shoutouts to lily and ct for wading through this mess, i appreciate you more than you know

“Thanks for covering me.” Your sigh is accompanied by a satisfying crunch beneath your shoes, a stray leaf the unfortunate target of your latest frustrations. “Even if you were late to class.” It wasn’t like being caught on your phone by Trein was the worst of your worries, but a death sentence of papers and reprimands was, in fact, preferably avoided if you could help it.

“You owe me one.” Ace replies airily, slowing his stride to bump your side with his bag. “What’re you going to do without me?” Like he wasn’t the asshole who made you check your phone because of his sudden impromptu reenactment of an earthquake via spam text.

08:30 [ ace ]: fuck im late

08:30 [ ace ]: HELP

08:31 [ ace ]: distract him

08:31 [ ace ]: catch something on fire idc

08:33 [ ace ]: i cant believe ur gonna make me take the L

“Have an easier life, that’s for sure.” He makes a vague noise between a squeaky trumpet and a chicken, looking as if you’ve insulted generations upon generations of the Trappola bloodline with a single throwaway comment. “What was I even supposed to do?” Several expressions cycle on his face—focused, thinking, trouble—before he makes a decision and steps closer to you to ‘accidentally’ swing his bag into you again... only to eat shit as you retaliate and shove it back.

“Told you, catch something on fire.” However, the movement is enough to make you lose your footing and free fall to the ground; about to meet miserable, sweet, concrete Death before Ace grabs your arm and catches your face with his chest. “Not that.” Whatever you say next comes out muffled, noise and mind distorted by the smell of cherries?

But, the peace doesn’t last long, especially with Ace, as he pulls back enough for you to catch his lips twitching with another one-liner. “Oooh, can’t take your hands off of me.” He instantly catches your next fist, “if you like me this much, just say so.”

“Oh, Ace.” Time to switch tactics. You latch onto the front of his shirt, tightening your fists with enough force to wrinkle both his blazer and vest. “You’re totally sooo cool and don’t pick your nose and I am sooooo deeply in love with you that I just,” he begins cackling as you shake him, “can’t-help-but-choke-you-out!”

“What happened to boundaries? No safe word?” It doesn’t matter that he’s practically being rag-dolled for all of NRC to see, no matter how much you try to shake and activate that one brain cell of his, giggles continue to keep spewing out, taunting and delighted.

“I hate you—just! Shut! Up!!” You’re gonna throttle him. No one’s gonna find his body, not if you can help it.

“Wow, love you too.”

“Sure don't act like it!”

“What? I do!” You let up and he doubles over, gasping as he breaks into another fit of giggles. “How can I not?” He rubs his hand over his face, winded as he looks up at you, red eyes shining.

“What? Say that again? One more time for the audience in the back.” It’s meant to be an innocent tease, but for some reason, it sparks a knee-jerk wide-eyed reaction from him as a simple word slips from the depths of his very soul.

“Shit.”

“What?” You repeat, squinting at him. “What you just said, right? Going on about how I’m so lova—”

He begins to bounce restlessly in place, words coming out harsh and forced. “I didn’t say that.”

“Are you seriously trying to gaslight me? In broad daylight?”

“No. That was just a normal thing, you’re making it weird. Geez.” His iconic smirk warbles and it almost seems as if the heart over his eye begins to grow runny.

“What does that even mean?”

“Definitely not what you’re thinking.”

“Ace.” His whole body is flushing. It’s enough that you can make it out from his ears to the sliver of skin at his wrist. “Look at me.” He refuses, half a second from booking it. “Do you—”

Then, suddenly filled with resolve, he faces you properly... only to cup your cheeks and squish them together between his palms. “Ooooh we’re never going to talk about this! Let’s move on~” The voiceover is the worst that you’ve ever heard, high and lilted with fear and cheap falsettos.

The sound of your palms practically patty-caking Ace’s face into a sandwich bounces against the statues of the Seven surrounding you (what a familiar place). He winces but doesn’t let go as you two proceed to stand in an awkward, competitive deadlock. “I’m not letting go until you tell me what’s up.” You manage through squished lips.

“You’re annoying.” He grits his teeth in irritation, staring straight at your forehead like he was weighing the outcome of embarrassment and pain if he head-banged you and ran.

“No, you.”

“You’re such a kid.” Ace wiggles under your grip, attempting to escape only to fail to your stubbornness. “It took you this long to notice my feelings? Sevens, how dense can you get?”

You roll your eyes. “If you want to actually go out, the offer is about to expire in approximately three seconds.”

“Wait.” His grip slackens.

“Three...” You begin counting. “You’re kidding me.” His lips twitch, throat bobbing as panic begins to settle in.

“You’re not going to really make me—” You finish off in a singular breath. “Twoone.” 

“Wait, that’s cheating—hold up!”

“Should’ve confessed your undying love for me.”

“You’re the worst. You’re literally the absolute worst.” His thumb traces hearts on your cheekbones, words coming out breathless as the tension finally drops from his body. “Is this what you do? Play with a poor man’s feelings? Heart breaker much?”

“Yeah yeah, let me go and hold my hand already.” He obliges, shaking his head disbelievingly as his fingers come down to intertwine with your own. His grip is tight, assured this time as his pulse drums loud and steady against your wrist. Without a word, he squeezes your hand, just once, unabashed affection making itself fully apparent with your permission.

Though, you only get four steps ahead before Ace interrupts, “You had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m going to break up with you already.”

“Too late. You signed the contract, breaking it involves a fee of seven million madols by tomorrow.” 

“Did I? Did I really? You didn’t even ask me out yet.”

With his free hand, he crosses his thumb and pointer, winking at you as he brings your interlocked hands up and presses a kiss to them. “Milad—”

“No.” He snorts, dropping it to swing your hands.

You see his mouth move, and the possibility occurs to you that maybe, for once in this lifetime, he’s about to say something profound. What comes out instead is: “Wouldn’t it be funny if we pretended we weren’t? Dating, I mean. Just for a week.” The grip on your hand gets tighter as he quickly backtracks, bothered. ”We’re still going to date afterward—no it’s non-negotiable—but I bet the guys wouldn’t notice a thing out of place.”

“Why?” Wasn’t Ace the type to hold it over their heads? Or, at the least, take the opportunity to be obnoxious about it?

“They’re the types who won’t notice even if you write it on their foreheads.” Reward of the year for I-Love-My-Friends goes to Ace Trappola, without a doubt. “Wanna see if they have a chance of noticing if we don’t tell them outright.”

You think about it for a moment, “Bet you’re gonna be the first one to expose yourself.”

“Says you.” He takes the opportunity to lean into you, lanky arms taking up space at your sides. “I’ll even bet Deuce on it.”

Not very far off in the distance, Deuce sneezes into his arm (properly! just like his mom had told him). “Ah, am I getting sick...?”

14:30 [ ace ]: “miss me?”

"What? Need me to say I do?” There’s an airy sort of tease to your tone, feather-light as it drifts down the empty halls. ”Down bad much?"

It’s entirely by accident that Jack—of all people—manages to overhear you as he scrambles to adjust his hold on a stack of boxes dangling precariously off of his arms. Did he just hear that correctly? The Ramshackle Prefect having a private conversation with... family (well, that doesn't make any sense considering your circumstances)? A long-distance friend...? Possibly?

“That’s not a no.” A lover?

“Loser, why wouldn’t I miss you?" His ears flatten with embarrassment, mentally cursing himself for having such good hearing as he presses his shoulder flat into the wall—a feeble attempt to stabilize the boxes. It worked, only temporarily, to slightly balance the cardboard already determined to give him several concussions.

After all, it’s not as if he could help the size of his ears or what they just happen to catch. It wasn’t like he meant to eavesdrop, especially on what seemed like such a private conversation. If he wasn't pressed for time or currently violating OSHA regulations, he would’ve absolutely upped and turned around to leave you to your privacy. You know... to be a good friend. But life (whoever said it was lemons didn’t consider it could be entire box fulls) was working against him. Dorm meetings, teacher favors, and the weight of the world practically rested in the room beyond—with you being the unintentional final boss blocking his way.

Whoever is on the other end seems to mirror his embarrassment, although for entirely different reasons. "Wow. It's almost like you like like me." The voice cracks, tinged pink as it trails off into a pathetic warble of a comeback.

"I mean... yeah? Isn't that obvious?"

The poor person on the other end starts to choke, "That's fucking cheesy." To each their own, but that sentiment was sweeter than it was cringe... at least, it was in Jack’s opinion.

Suddenly, something tips from a box and lands squarely on his head—right between his ears. The jarring sensation sends a jolt through him, lightning quick, and makes all his brain cells freeze to one singular thought: Wait. Like? Like... like? Can’t be. You literally said otherwise yesterday at lunch.

It was unclear how it exactly got from point “quit that, give my food back” to point “you ever think you’ll find someone here?” He really didn’t have any intentions, it was an absent-minded question. Really. But to say he wasn’t actually curious of your thoughts would be a complete lie.

“Relationships? At our NRC? Less likely than you think.” A fork hung from your mouth, suspended in your sarcasm. He distinctly remembers you squinting at him, huffing as your arms come out to gesture to the rest of the students surrounding you.

The fireplaces have exploded. A torrent of magic, roof high and smoldering, blazes unmercifully across students unfortunate enough to be close. There’s screaming. An entire portion of a half-eaten (and now charred) pastry lands directly on your lap. Someone breaks a window.

...All because a stray fire fairy in the kitchen got slop thrown on it. 

Your brow goes even higher as if to further contest his comment.

Fair enough. Jack had thought, handing you a napkin and ending the conversation at exactly that.

Did you suddenly change your stance? Was romance blossoming right under his nose?

And... doesn't that voice sound kind of familiar?

“Like you don’t like it.” He hears you laugh sweetly, “You gonna break my poor heart and pretend otherwise?” He can hear something akin to muffled cursing on the other end of the phone, rising in pitch, denial, and excuses. ”Eh? Did he hang up...?” 

There’s absolutely no way for him to prepare for the sequence of knob to hand to sheer, unadulterated pain as the door slams wide open and straight into your eavesdropper. "Jack?!"

Despite all his mental prayers to the Seven and a desperate grip, the boxes are knocked straight onto him and the floor, scattering an assortment of odd trinkets all over the ground. "Tsk—!" A broken bottle filled with some type of odd oil quickly spreads across the floors, making you both slip around and tumble until your knees pathetically hit the floor "Ow!"

“Jack... what the hell is this?”

Given up, no longer thriving, and lying face-down in the middle of the hall, Jack huffs out, “potion materials for Crewel.” His words come out loopy and muffled with a bit of a haze to them as his arm reaches forward and attempts to grab an orb spinning its way down the hall. He misses by just a hair and grunts in frustration as he begins to push himself up.  “Were you...” He starts before abruptly stopping himself, that’s none of my business.

You snatch up a stray pen rolling away on the floor and toss it into a box. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing.” He dismisses you with a shake of his head, clearing away some of the earlier haze. ”I just need to get into that room.”

“...Oh!” You have to avoid grimacing or slipping as the oil seeps into your clothes, but gingerly the two of you slowly manage to become upright once again. “Here, let me help then.” He beams at you in appreciation as the both of you make quick work of the scattered materials. Recovering what you can of several broken bottles, everything gets put back into place and Jack is sent back on his merry way to his dorm—only a minute pressed for time.

When he arrives, out of breath and with shirt sleeves stained olive oil yellow, Jack groans, unable to hold back his immense disappointment. Was the whole catastrophe earlier for nothing? Were they really having a dorm meeting about someone making “snowmen” out of people’s shedding?

Pause. Wait. That is really weird.

Several Savanaclaw students squabble, pointing fingers at each other while Leona lazily watches on uninterested. Jack begins to astrally ascend out of sheer disbelief, scuffing his foot into the floor as someone attempts to sneak away—only to have multiple shoes thrown at their head. Loud conversation floats vaguely in and out of his head, but something much more pressing catches his attention. The Prefect dating someone... couldn’t be, I’m overthinking it.

📞 [ call ended ]

Somewhere, on the other end of a phone, a certain someone throws an arm over his face now burned crimson—his thumb still hovering right where the screen blinks your name. "Fuck, didn’t mean to hang up but...” He slumps down further over his desk, wanting to melt in shame. “At least it's over phone, but argh—! This is lame." He drags his hand down his face, internally debating if he should jump out the window or just call you back.

“Ace. Your phone. Now.” Trein’s voice echoed from the front of the detention classroom.

Shit.

Epel makes a face like he's swallowed an entire handful of sour cherries. "What's got you looking at your phone so much?"

Your fingers stop over the keyboard, "Uh." With a very deep gravity, as if the answer was something he couldn't afford to hear, you reply in the gravest tone possible, "Your mom."

You practically have to throw your body out of the way to avoid the round-house kick Epel aims at your head.

You're out shopping together, juggling the assortments that you've gotten from Sage Island’s most popular tourist spots. With your hands full and mouth muffled by a snack, you order, "Camf fu sorch up wheof the fefenal," yeah, he has no clue what you're saying, "onmf phon?"

Phone. Got it. He digs your phone from your pocket and, with much difficulty, swipes it open after nearly butchering your passcode to lock point. "For Seven's sake, put yer snack down already and properly speak!" He grumbles, grabbing your thumb and pressing it to your phone to open the damn thing up and search the location for... fefenal?

Though, as he types it up, your past searches float and bubble up.

> why does my cat keep drooling on me

> if i boil an egg in gatorade does it taste like gatorade

> date spots

Cause yer cat loves ya dumbass... why in the Sevens would you even think about that... wait. Wait. Date spots? He looks at you, then at himself in a shop mirror, then back at you. No... you wouldn't force someone to spend hours debating fruit freshness for a date... right? Though, to be very fair, he was good at telling which fruit was ripe and the tastiest. But you'd do better than that for a date, right?

"What were you looking for again?"

Finally, you answer him with a clear mouth. "General store." He gives you a weird look when you return a "what?"

"...Wouldja go on a date for fruit?"

"...Huh?"

"Nevermind." 

"I mean—" Suddenly, a notification flashes across your screen. "tomorrow at noon, right?"

"Huh?" You repeat.

Epel simply shakes his head, "Clown emoji... second place emoji? Just texted you that and n’ a bunch of flame emojis." You look at him confused. "...One of the hearts is on fire?"

"Oh... Oh! Can you send back an image from my gallery?" He obliges and looks through the first five images.

"What the fuck is this."

"Don't worry."

"Whose mouth is this? Why do you have 15 photos of the inside of someone's mouth?!"

"Floyd."

"Ah."  Makes sense. He sends the grossest one. A ping later and he instantly sees... a chin photo of Vil? Epel snorts, barreling down as he chuckles louder. "Pfta! Haha! Like this? Serves 'em right to look ugly for a change!"

"Hold up, lemme see." You lean over and start to snort too, "What do you mean? He looks really good right there."

"Don't kid! He’d kill ya if he saw this!"

"Never!" As the two of you absolutely rag on Vil (lovingly... probably) and proceed with your day, the thought that had begun worming its way into Epel's mind lingers even as the both of you miserably pile crates of apples into a carriage: could’ve sworn the number under that stupid nickname seemed familiar... and what’s with that search history?

It’s horrible that such a nice sort of day was spent preparing for the next interim level of Hell that Trein deemed fit to sentence everyone to during a lovely week that truly didn’t deserve such misery. After all, there was really only one way to make any possible preparations for the upcoming onslaught...

Studying. Oh, the… horror.

It was the three of you in preparation for Magical Analysis. Sure, Sebek and Ace seemed to have a knack for it, but it was a different matter altogether to apply it in practical form with a group.

Squabbling amongst yourselves, Ace, out of air from arguing, falls back onto you with a grumble. “Sheesh, it’d be so much easier if you just did it this way y’know.”

“And stoop to rewriting the work of an upperclassman’s past project? Of course, humans wouldn’t have any understanding of what dignity might mean.” His prattling continues as he sweeps his pencil over a scrap piece of paper in frustration. “Nevertheless, integrity.” Wow, he was really taking it out on that miserable little pencil—the eraser gone to the metal line.

Ace rolls his eyes and looks at you. Knowing him better than anyone, you can tell he wants to ditch or at least shovel more work unto Sebek in unwarranted revenge. Without even bothering to hide it, he mouths to you, “C’mon, if he wants to be so righteous, he can do this damn project himself.” You kick him under the table, but he easily defends himself with the flat of his shoe. “Loser.” He taunts, low enough for you to barely catch it.

Oh? So, it’s like that today.

By the time Sebek actually notices is when you finally go silent. He turns his head up in confusion to see your face fluster and Ace looking at you with smug victory that Sebek mistakes for rivalry. "Hmph! Children! Are you so dependent on one another that you can't separate?" Sebek grunts, peering under the table to where Ace's hand rests squarely on your calf, dipping under the fabric to firmly stop your attacks against his stomach as your legs—practically in his lap—kick at him to let you go.

Your voices reach him in almost perfect sync,

"Something like that."

"I’m twice the man he could ever be...!"

Sebek only scoffs and tears another sheet of blank paper out. “That simply proves my point. Two idiots make a pair.”

Ace snorts, pressing deeper into your leg to tip you slightly onto the ground. On instinct, you reach out, grabbing onto his neck in what would seem like a romantic interaction if it didn’t jerk his head and cause him to nose dive down straight onto the table. “Fuck!”

“Sorry! Shit, you okay?” You fuss over him, patting his face and forehead despite his wincing.

“If you really felt bad, you wouldn’t be smirking.”

“Oops, was I?”

He sulks and leans closer to you, reveling in the pampered treatment for a minute more... until he pulls out your chair and unceremoniously nearly drops you to the floor before childishly catching you last minute. “Ace!”

Sebek, exasperated, watches this all with a sigh, he wasn’t ever going to get anything done with you two, huh?

....But to his surprise, you guys do make timely work somehow and manage to finish everything with time to spare. Sebek doesn’t even give a second thought to your shenanigans nor how close the two of you were, opting to think: Seven, they’re idiots, completely unaware of Ace sneaking a kiss to your forehead in cheeky revenge.

Deuce pauses, sniffing the air. "What smells like cherries?" Unconsciously, he brings his shirt up to his nose, double-checking himself as he sniffs the collar of his shirt. “Do you smell it too?”

"We're in the middle of the Gym, there’s a lot more smells than that,” you reply absent-mindedly. A ball idly rolls by your foot, remnants of the game only a couple minutes prior before the two of you were forcefully assigned cleanup duty. ”Maybe you smell something from the cafeteria?"

"It's not that." His hands squeeze around a basketball, confidence assured in his words as he spins it around in his hands. "The cafeteria doesn't serve cherries on Wednesday. That’s a Friday thing."

"Huh, really? Is that why Ace always drags us to eat there then?"

"Yeah, you never noticed?" He turns back, genuinely curious as he watches your reaction. "That's why he always gets so excited."

"I mean, we always eat cherry stuff every other Unbirthday though? Which is like, literally, almost every other day of the week. Don't know why he'd get so amped at the cafe."

"Maybe it tastes better...?"

"Better than Trey's?"

"Hmm..."

As the two of you ponder, Deuce's eyes settle on your jacket. “Huh? Where’d you get a Heartslabyul varsity from?”

“Stole it,” you say simply, much to the baffled—near horrified—expression that dawns on Deuce’s face. “C’mon, you think I stole it from Riddle or something?” He looks so stressed that you’d even suggest something so terrifying that he almost stops breathing. “Deuce! No! Think.”

“...Diamond-senpai...? He’s nice enough?”

“I mean, I do have some clips he’s given me. But no.”

“Clover-senpai? Maybe?”

“Wouldn’t it be bigger?” He squeezes his eyes shut, using all of the power in his singular brain cell to come up with answers—but to no avail, even as you walk away to grab a broom. It takes him until another class change that, when you finally leave the locker room and you’re bending down to retie your shoes, Deuce rushes to you to boldly and confidently announce, “ACE!”

“Took you long enough,” you sigh, rolling up your sleeves as the sun beats down hard. “Speaking of, lemme text him that we’re done.” You pull out your phone to go into your recents, a long log of clown emojis filling it. Eh...? It seemed like you called a... clown a lot? Did you get something with the circus? Before he can ask, a clown emoji pops up on the screen. “Speak of the devil.”

“Wait. Am I a clown on your phone?”

“Maybe.”

“Hey!” He looks to you, pleading for confirmation. “I am? Really?”

“I would never...! Probably.” You maneuver the phone to your ear where inaudible sounds from the phone continue, vaguely the cadence of ranting. “Oh, hold up, he’s asking me to meet him. I’ll see you later, Deuce.”

"The clown...?" He watches you go in confusion, mind spinning as he thinks about clowns and, weirdly enough, a recent complaint Ace had about missing clothes. He remembers a wry, affectionate smile on his face as he shut his closet doors and sighed. It wasn’t like him to lose things and he seemed to know who took them. So... really, that guy relented enough to let you borrow something from him? He grimaced at the memory of Ace letting him walk around with his bright pink leopard print jacket, jabbing him without mercy.

Well, whatever. You guys were all best friends after all. It wasn’t a big deal anyway. Maybe you’d ask to borrow Deuce’s leopard print soon.

It is of the utmost importance that the highest council come together... for a sleepover to watch the latest horror movie that had appeared in home theaters. But, more than that, there was an immediate emergency of the highest level that needed to be addressed: drama. The tea needed to be prepped, served and spilled.

Or so Epel spits out (albeit in a much rougher manner), lifting his shoulders high in the air like he was ready to start his villain marketing monologue. "Is it just me or has the Prefect been weird lately? Not weird weird or nothin’, just that... ugh!" He shifts his eyes around, getting quieter with each frustrated syllable. Despite the fact that you were gone for a quick snack run, it still felt wrong to gossip in your house... place… dilapidated building. But he desperately needed to know he wasn’t going crazy.

"Really? They seem the same as ever to me.” Deuce chimes in, balancing a bowl of popcorn on his leg as he mindlessly picks off burnt pieces lining the top.

"They were searching some weird stuff—" Unconvinced, Epel spins toward Jack, gesturing to him and waiting like he knew the answer. "Ya think they're... fancying someone?"

“It’s their private business.” Jack settles firmly, replying with what he deemed as a solid, mature, and impartial response. “I’m sure that the Prefect isn’t interested anyway. Night Raven College is far too chaotic for romance.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then why’d the Prefect search up somethin' like date spots? Huh? What’d ya got to say about that?”

“If you’re on Sage Island, date spots are practically the equivalent to tourist spots. Maybe they’re looking for nice places. Don’t overthink it, Epel.”

Epel, more worked up than ever, smashes his hand into a bowl of gummies, stuffs them all in his mouth, and viciously proclaims in one go: “Then why’re they texting so much! Huh? Huh?!”

“...That’s just texting?”

“I think they made a clown friend,” Deuce unhelpfully adds. “I saw them calling a clown emoji a lot.”

“It was a clown emoji...” A lightbulb goes off in Epel’s head as he slams the table in front of him, shaking off bits of popcorn onto the floor that causes Sebek to promptly scowl. “Don’t do that to the popcorn!”

“Oh, shut yer trap. Big talk from someone who’s not helpin’ anyway.” Epel huffs, but leans down and scoops the pieces off of the floor, popping them into his mouth without a second thought. The jab works well enough though as Sebek straightens up, a twitch on his forehead.

“On the contrary,” he begins, voice loud and booming at a decibel that makes everyone wince, “they’re too focused on playing to be dating. When I worked with them and Ace, they were lolly-gagging around without a care! If they’re going to bother dating someone, it’d be Ace and we’d all know already.”

Everyone but Jack nods in agreement. Imagining the Prefect and Ace, of all people, dating? Nah. They’d seen you fill his shoes with spaghetti sauce once because he used up all your salt and left the container. It just... didn’t seem like you had that kind of relationship. "True, I really only see 'em with Ace all the time, maybe he’d know something?"

On the other side of the couch, Jack frowns, opens his mouth, and then promptly decides to close it as he quietly surveys the scene with a pensive, furrowed brow.

There’s a clue now, a distinct, visible connection: Clowns. Of course, it had to either be a potential relationship or your career plans. “But about that clown emoji... I think I remember the number.” It’s gotta be the former, Epel decides. If it was the latter, wouldn’t you have tried honking your nose or something? "I’m gonna call it." 

Jack puts his face into his hands, having a moral crisis as he mumbles, “...wouldn’t they think that you’re a spam number?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Epel pops another kernel into his mouth as he chews it in thought. “Think it had a triple seven in it somewhere...” He slowly mashes a key string of numbers together, erases, retypes, cusses.

Peering over Epel’s shoulder, unable to hide his curiosity, Deuce points out, "Isn’t the first bit the Kingdom of Hearts area code? Are you sure you remember the right code?"

“How would the Prefect know someone from the Kingdom of Roses outside of NRC?” Sebek muses aloud, unable to help himself either.

"Shouldn't we respect the Prefect's privacy?" Jack attempts once more, seeming as if he was shrinking with every busy tone Epel got stopped at. Yet, he continues to be ignored as Epel only calls the number again... and again... and again. "Hey... it's not our business."

"I got it damn it!" Stronger than any military man, Epel, the lone soldier, continues to push forward in his self-made journey. "Just give me a bit!" He keeps typing away, accidentally calling up a pizza place that makes everyone collectively groan. "C’mon, I’ve just about got it."

"Even if the Prefect were hypothetically in a relationship. Okay. Courting takes much time and requires a substantial amount of effort and persistence. I have not seen hair nor signs of lovestruck gooey eyes. Trust me, my parents are disgustingly in love. I would know." The scowl on Sebek’s face deepens, "we would've caught the Prefect by now!"

Deuce startles up, wide-eyed and mouth gaping as he blankly stares at everyone in pure shock, “WAIT... what? The Prefect is dating someone?"

"It took you this long?"

"WHO?!" Sevens help him, Jack was going to come home with premature wrinkles at the age of 16.

After about ten minutes of furious tapping, Epel’s thumb slips over the worn keypad and lands on one. His eyes, hazed over in delirium, border madness as he maniacally shakes his phone in victory. "Got it! This is it! Didja see that one?!"

"You sure? Pretty sure your thumb just..."

"I swear if you try sayin’ somethin’ silly, I’m gonna take my—"

"Then... why's Ace coming up on the screen?"

"Huh?" He erases, squeezes his eyes really hard, and types in the number that he sees in his head again.

 It's Ace.

“Nah, that doesn't make sense.” Epel sounds nearly hysterical at this point. He calls again and goes straight to a cheery-toned voicemail that mocks everything Epel had ever known. 

Unaware of the literal red swirling in Epel’s eyes, Deuce, having calmed down, happily nods with complete confidence, "Oh, it's probably auto-corrected to his number.”

“Phones do that?”

“...Maybe?”

Epel furiously spams the number anyway, not caring even if it was Ace. His frustrations were immeasurable, reaching an all-time new high. The levels were exceedingly dangerous, beyond over blotting with only one possible outlet it could vent to: Ace’s phone (and his dumb voicemail). In an effort to somehow abate Epel’s rage, Deuce gently puts his phone down and makes his own attempts at calling the number. "Maybe your phone is wrong, let me try from mine." Sebek, who looks very lost, does so too.

Through very pointed, timed coughs, Jack taps the table to get everyone's attention. “...ack. The Prefect should—uheum—return any minute now.” However, being the group of idiots that they are, it only brings about a different change, somehow switching to the topic of who it could possibly be. 

"Grim?" The little guy wasn’t around, somehow off meandering for the day or sleeping the evening away somewhere else in the dorm. "Maybe the Prefect's upped their pet pampering. Something like he’s being a grouch and they're having to give him more attention than usual."

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Prefect succumbed to giving Grim a phone.” Would paw pads work on a phone screen though?

The answers quickly devolve, becoming more ludicrous as Epel casually brushes away Grim's possibility. "Think about it seriously won’t ya? If the Prefect is in love... No, Jack’s right—that wouldn’t make a lick of sense with...” He waves his hand vaguely around at the comfortable but still dilapidated state of Ramshackle. “What if the Prefect’s possessed? Having to step through life fulfilling the sad, unrequited love of a ghost..." It wasn’t as if the events of the whole ghost bride shenanigans were all that far away anymore—quite literally living in the walls of NRC. It was just yesterday that Idia, out of all people, was, for once, the most eligible bachelor of all the lands.

“Wasn’t that whole deal done and over with already?”

“Hm. Probably.” Epel concedes, still vaguely worried.

Sebek leaned forward on his knees, a perfect replica of The Thinker as he genuinely considered the possibilities. "I think... If we haven’t caught them, then it has to be someone who doesn’t go to the NRC. Perhaps it’s someone from RSA?”

“Like Neige?”

“Or, do you think it could—”

"Or maybe... you guys need to learn to quit it!" Ace, missing from the scene, all but tackles Epel as he shoves his phone directly into his face.

"It's important!" Despite his face mushed into a phone screen, Epel doesn’t hesitate to immediately throw fists as he scrabbles to knee the intruder. "We think the Prefect is datin’ someone and keeping it a secret!"

A look of complete incredulity passes over Ace's face. He momentarily stops squishing his phone into Epel’s forehead, twists his eyebrows, and then smoothly says with a shit-eating grin, "Yeah, you notice it too?

"SEE, I wasn’t goin’ crazy!" All is forgiven. Friendship? Restored. Epel, more than happy to present the evidence, drops his fists to recount the facts index to pinky. “They’ve been on the phone non-stop with someone.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s super suspicious. I bet they’re giggling and kicking their feet too.” Ace, grabbing a handful of Deuce’s popcorn with his other hand, pops it into his mouth and blinks doeishly while twirling his hair. “What else? Catch them making lovestruck eyes? Swooning? Are they writing love letters?”

“No. That’s the weird part.” Epel gets to his pinky, souring as he recollects your latest actions. “Searching up date spots...”

“Hm, really?” Ace, no remorse, continues to be a complete asshole, liar, and gaslighter. "Look, I think the cards are all on the table. The Prefect is head over heels no doubt. Sound agreement. Completely agree." He grounds his feet and pushes forward, back to his phone-spam vengeance mission, but Epel doesn’t budge. His resolve is only strengthened by sheer willpower and probably far too much adrenaline as he attempts to sock Ace directly in the throat.

Much to his chagrin, Ace dances out of the way snickering “sucker!” But the bated breaths of stars and divine karma decide, hey this guy’s a little too full of himself, and shake loose the grip on his phone.

“Oh shit.” It happens in slow motion, the cherry-colored phone spinning round and round until it slots perfectly in the middle of the table for all to see two perfectly immaculate coincidences appear. Ace’s phone opens—a beacon of undeniable guilt—to a sweet, innocent lock screen of him pressing a kiss to your cheek... in his varsity. Then, if that wasn’t enough, your conveniently timed texts appear, rendering Ace to repeat solemnly to himself, “Oh shit.”

18:16 [ y/n ]: hey can you open the door my hands are full

18:22 [ y/n ]: like. right now

18:22 [ y/n ]: you LEAVE prefect? you leave me in the cold? oh! oh! jail for boyfriend! jail for the worst boyfriend for One Thousand Years!

18:22 [ y/n ]: wait i didn’t mean it

18:28 [ y/n ]: babygirl please

Deuce can scarcely believe his eyes, barely registering the texts or the lock screen as he utters out a single, profound word torn out from the deepest depths of his soul. "WHAT."

Sebek, not registering the picture, reacts point-blank. "Did the Prefect call you babygirl?"

The most ardently passionate Epel stares and processes the new evidence quietly, “wait...” It clicks. “IT WAS YOU.”

"It was obvious guys..." From the very start, Sebek had even accidentally guessed it.

"YOU'RE DATING THE PREFECT?!" Et Tu, Ace? Just like this? Deuce had never felt such betrayal, never like this before. Such... deception!

"WHAT," Sebek’s voice steadily gets louder to match everyone else, baffled by the turn of events. “WHAT DOES BABYGIRL MEAN?”

Not knowing what to do with his hands or rage, Epel begins to put Ace into a headlock.

Jack leaves the room in second-hand embarrassment.

Ace, tongue in cheek and barely able to hold in his laughter, allows himself to be manhandled—but not without chaos. "Um? You didn't know? Wasn't it obvious?" He gives Sebek a smug smile in particular, "Didn't you catch my hands literally under their clothes?"

Sebek gawks, turning bright red as he flails, "ISN'T THAT NORMAL FOR YOU GUYS?"

The pieces all come together. It was the footsies in your study session, the recognizable jacket during gym, an eavesdropped conversation, a much-too-revealing search history.

It’s you finally coming in with the snacks—carefree as ever—opening the door with an "I'm back!" to only be blasted by a chorus of "YOU'RE DATING ACE?" 

You blink. The snacks drop. You’re out the door.

Jack reappears to pick up the snacks while Deuce knocks over the table and falls to the floor as Epel flies over his head to give chase—barraging you with questions of “Since when?!” and ”Why are you running?!”

"It's only been a week!" This little man is chasing you so fast oh my God how is he so fast. “Stop chasing me!”

Deuce finally breaks out of his stupor to go, "Now, wait just a minute...!" and slams his head up into Sebek’s stomach where he chokes on the popcorn. The two first-years groan, rolling around on the ground and couch as Ace makes eye contact with Jack, shrugs, and runs to catch up to the distant screaming (you) and threats that most certainly break the Geneva Convention (Epel).

Well, more like a light, easy jog as he arrives to Epel finding a spare branch and full-on frisbeeing it at your head, fully intent on taking you down without care of any possible casualties. It was war. If this was how you went, death via a guy whose parents really thought it was a good idea to name their son Apple™, then you mentally decided all of your meager earnings as a janitor and de facto therapist at this cursed college would go to Jamil. Sevens knows he deserves it.

“Epel!” So worked up on adrenaline, Epel’s head instantly whips around to face Ace... only to realize his mistake a second later as you kick his knees in and run, Ace close behind as he passes by and tussles his hair for good measure.

“This isn’t over yet!” Epel hollars, cussing you two out with every name under the sun. “Y'all ain’t seen nothing yet, I swear when I get to you—”

Ace’s lips curl with mocking delight as he throws his head back and laughs from the rush of your moonlit escapade. “Yada yada, he’ll calm down eventually... probably.” He was this excited to dupe his friends? "Pfft... haha! Sheesh, took 'em long enough!" Ridiculous. 

What a stupid, endearing idiot (your idiot). "Took you long enough. Where were you?" Ace’s hand is warm as it finds yours.

His timing is off by only a second before he replies, a little bit hopeful, “What? Miss me already?”

(Yes.)

You think, for a long moment, before reaching up and pressing a kiss underneath his jaw. “No.”

In response, Ace's hand squeezes your shoulder as he pulls you closer with a wide, genuine smile. “Liar.” Keeping you close as the two of you escape into the night, hand in hand.

♥♥

end a/n: hello! happy holidays!! i am also so late to the collab: i am so sorry—but i hope that this being longer makes up for it lmao. a lot has happened this year (not necessarily bad things!) but definitely. exhausting ones haha—so it made this piece really difficult to get out. BUT I DID IT. MA YA SEE THAT? I DID IT—so with all my heart, i sincerely hope that you enjoy this piece and maybe laughed a little. because ! that makes it all the more worth it! so, again, thank you for reading about this little foolish lil guy

To those who identify as female, have you ever just put an object that's in your hands in your bra? I do when I don't have pockets or a bag at that moment.

But in Twst? I'll do it almost all the time.

Whose going to stop me? Not NRC. Those boys probably have not touched a woman that's not their family.

--------------------------Heartstybul------------------------

Riddle will for sure will scream at me saying that it's unhygienic and probably unladylike it's for me to do that. And when he does, I'll just throw whatever I had in my bra at him, and just watch him freak out.

Trey probably saw an older female relative do it and never questioned it. Might ask why, and when told on why, he never mentioned it again. Is going to wipe anything I give him just in case it had boobie sweat on it.

Cater probably lives in an all female household and seen most of them to it. Does not give a fuck, will never mention it to ADeuce just to see their reactions and then laugh about it.

Deuce might've saw it happen once but forgot about it. Would be cautious as hell when I give him things. I'll have to tell him that anything that's not at least my phone or wallet I will not put in my bra.

Ace does not know about this, he will be disgusted. Will ABSOLUTELY not take anything from me. Would say how gross it is for me to do that and how much my boobie sweat is nasty.

--------------------------Savanaclaw-----------------------

Leona doesn't give a single fuck. Knows that women will do that when they have no bags or pockets. Is not bothered by it when giving him things.

Ruggie knows for a Fact that this happens. His grandma does it. When he was younger he probably had to do errands for her, and she would dig into her bra to get some money out for groceries.

Jack... does not know what to do. Does he take the object I'm giving him? Or does he rejects it? If he does, he'll get all nervous about it and immediately wash his hands after touching the item.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't mind Savanaclaws' colors, it just based on the color of their eyes.

Part 2?