Hello!! I Just Want To Let You Know In Your Recent Azul Fic There's A Word "girlfriend" Near The End

reblog this if your blog is a safe space on april fools and won’t have any jumpers, screamers, or anything scary or anxiety inducing

Pairing: Riddle x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff

Everything about Riddle Rosehearts is almost perfect.

He’s handsome, kind, respectful, smart, and very well-spoken — but he takes nearly everything too seriously. That, of course, includes his work.

When you initially saw him at the company’s grand event for new hires, he could have easily fooled you for being an executive with the way he carries himself.

It comes as a surprise when you discover that not only will the two of you be working in the same department together, but you’re also the same age.

But it’s not like you obtained this information from the man himself. Instead, one of your seniors — an attractive young man named Cater Diamond who claims to have gone to college with Riddle — was the one to let you know.

“Are you interested in Riddle? I can call him over if you’d like,” Cater’s eyes hold a glimmer of mischief as he speaks of the offer.

You raise an eyebrow skeptically before sparing a glance towards the general direction you last saw Riddle disappearing into. You absentmindedly stir your vodka tonic with a straw and shake your head.

“No, thanks. A man like that has no interest in sitting around and talking to fresh meat like me,” you state plainly, causing Cater to chuckle in amusement.

“Oh, you’re misunderstanding him. Riddle’s great. Here, I’ll prove it,” Cater sits up straight and ignores your hushed pleas for him to stop whatever it is he was planning on doing. He cups his hands on either side of his mouth before calling out, “Riddleeee! Over hereeee!”

You shrink into yourself in embarrassment as most of the conversations around you cease. You could practically feel all the eyes burning curious holes into your figure, but thankfully the feeling doesn’t last for too long.

The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you correct your posture, and you find yourself face-to-face with Riddle Rosehearts once you’ve sat up properly.

“You didn’t have to yell to get my attention, Cater,” Riddle scolds the older man, but the latter doesn’t seem to mind the stern tone in his voice.

Cater rubs the back of his neck and offers the younger man an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, but you were all the way across the room. Anyways, have you met y/n yet?”

“Y/n?” Riddle questions, his head turning to follow the direction Cater’s hand is gesturing towards.

He meets your eyes just as you were about to turn away and hide. But since you’re caught in the act, you’re forced to offer him a tight-lipped smile and a small wave, “that would be me. Hi.”

“Hi, I’m Riddle Rosehearts,” the man holds a hand out for you to shake briefly.

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, the awkwardness of the situation making you sip at your vodka tonic just to keep yourself busy.

While Riddle turns back to a conversation with Cater, you shoot daggers at the latter that you hope conveys what a bad idea this turned out to be.

Needless to say, your first encounter with Riddle Rosehearts was anything but perfect. In fact, it felt so awkward that you decided to hide your face from his sight every chance you got.

But try as you might, it’s literally impossible for you to avoid the man when you’re working in the same department. The senior analyst (damn you, Cater) even has the two of you sitting next to each other.

On the bright side? It doesn’t seem like Riddle is a fan of small talk, so you don’t have to try too hard to avoid him.

In your work environment, Riddle is almost perfect.

He learns fast, and is always the first one to volunteer to take on new projects or suggest changes to make your jobs more efficient. But his relentless work ethic also causes him to work too many hours to the point that you wonder if he ever goes home and sleeps.

“Sevens— have your eye bags always been that bad?” Cater is the only one brave enough to bring the topic up to the younger man — and, predictably, Riddle looks unamused by the prodding.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. My eye bags are normal-sized,” Riddle says without taking his eyes off his computer screen.

“They’re the normal size for sleep deprived people,” Cater retorts with a roll of his eyes. When Riddle doesn’t reply, he decides to change targets and makes his way over to your cubicle. “Hi, y/n.”

“Hey. I haven’t seen you around in a while, Cater,” you hit “Save” on the spreadsheet you’ve been working on before turning your chair around to face said man. “Have you finally gotten tired of marketing?”

“Absolutely not! I am having the time of my life marketing away! Social media is my L-O-M-L,” Cater says in mock offense and a hand clutching his chest. “I just stopped by to say ‘hello’ to my dear friends in the Finance department.”

Riddle shoots Cater with a suspicious side eye. He’s not sure if his friend is acting strange because he’s interested in you or because he’s simply up to something else; years of friendship would tell Riddle that it’s the latter.

For who is Cater Diamond if he’s not trying to cause some sort of mischief for fun?

“I also have a favor to ask of you, y/n,” Cater smiles sheepishly as he leans down and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Could you make sure that Riddle leaves at a reasonable time today?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at the man’s request, “why can’t you do that?”

“Because I’m not the one who has a little crush on him,” Cater sing-songs before taking a step back to avoid your attempts to swat him.

“I do not have a crush on him. I barely know the guy, and—and he’s your friend,” you hiss out, careful to keep your voice’s volume low.

“And I don’t believe you! So will you do me this favor?”

You take a moment before giving Cater an answer. Your eyes trail to Riddle’s hunched over frame, where the light from his computer screen illuminates his face, and you can see that Cater’s right about his eye bags.

You sigh in defeat before nodding, “fine, I’ll try. But you know that he’s very stubborn.”

“Yeah, I know. Good luckkk,” Cater shoots finger guns at you and turns in a rush to leave your cubicle before he gets yelled at by a superior for slacking off. “See ya!”

You silently wave goodbye to Cater’s retreating figure before your shoulders slump down and you turn back to your computer screen.

You spend the next few minutes typing away on your keyboard, your mind too focused on making sure that the data and numbers you were entering is correct, that you don’t even notice Riddle’s presence besides you.

He clears his throat and you guess that’s his way of making his presence known to people. It’s not the most polite method, unlike the way you’d assume he’d address most people.

Could it be that he’s just not particularly fond of you?

“Yes?” you ask without sparing the man a glance.

“I’ll go home when you do today. So don’t worry about asking me to leave.”

“What?” you look at Riddle in confusion, unsure if you’d heard the man correctly.

“You’re both terrible at whispering,” the man chuckles at the horrified expression appearing on your face. “But since Cater asked you for a favor, he must actually be concerned about me. So I’ll leave early today.”

“Um… just how much of that conversation did you hear?” you ask in a hushed voice, your feature twisting as if you’re in pain.

“That depends. What else did you talk about besides that and your ‘little crush’ on me?” The smile Riddle offers you is sweet, and you can tell by the dash of pink on his cheeks that he doesn’t mean to tease you maliciously.

“I’m going to dig a hole in my backyard to lay in after work,” you nod absentmindedly as you mumble to yourself and turn your chair back in place.

Riddle laughs to himself and leaves your cubicle to return to his own; the absence of his presence allows you to finally let out a breath you were holding in.

You try to focus on your work, but the mental image of the man smiling at you feels like it’s permanently stamped onto your brain. He didn’t even smile when you were first introduced, but now that you’ve seen it, you’re even more smitten.

The remainder of the day’s work hours tick by at a snail’s pace. Every time you think you’ve been working for at least an hour, the computer clock would say it’s only been 5 minutes.

By the time Cater announced that it was time to leave, you feel as if you’ve aged a good ten years.

“Thank goodness,” you sigh as you stretch your arms out above your head, the stiff muscles of your back protesting as you move.

“Are you ready to go?” a voice asks above your head, causing you to jolt in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Riddle? What are you doing here?” you ask when you turn your head to look at your unexpected visitor.

“I’m waiting for you to leave so I can leave too,” the man says his answer as if you should have known all along.

You laugh and stand up before collecting your messenger bag and slinging it across your chest, “you know you didn’t have to wait for me, right?”

“That’d be very rude of me,” Riddle waits until you appear to be ready to go before gesturing for you to walk ahead of him.

“No, it wouldn’t,” you laugh again and comply with the man’s wishes by making the first moves to leave your cubicle. “Well, maybe if we were friends, it’d be rude.”

“Aren’t we friends?”

Your eyes search Riddle’s face for any sign that would indicate he’s trying to pull your leg. But, as usual, Riddle is being serious.

“Would you consider me a friend?” you challenge once you’ve stepped inside an elevator and pressed the button to the building’s lobby.

“Sure. Any friend of Cater’s is a friend of mine’s,” Riddle says nonchalantly with a shrug.

“That didn’t sound convincing at all. If you want to be my friend, you’ll have to start doing things that friends would do.”

The elevator doors open with a loud ding and the two of you step out into the lobby to find that a light rainshower has begun to fall.

Riddle rummages through his backpack for the travel umbrella he keeps inside at all times for emergencies such as this. With the rose red bundle in hand, he’s about to exit the building when he realizes that you haven’t moved an inch since exiting the elevator.

“Y/n, I was serious: I’m not leaving until you do,” Riddle calls out for your attention, his arms crossed and his back pressed against the glass door of the entrance as you face him.

“The weather forecast didn’t say anything about rain today, so I didn’t bring an umbrella,” you confess as your ears begin to warm up from embarrassment.

“Do you walk home?”

“Yeah, I live nearby in those apartment complexes a couple blocks North from here.”

Riddle mentally pictures the nearby roads as you begin to explain them to him, using the landmarks you recognize to pinpoint where exactly your home would be before deciding that it shouldn’t be too long of a walk.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home. Unless you prefer I wait here with you until this is over,” Riddle adds quickly before you could protest.

“No— let’s go home,” you smile gratefully as you quickly make your way over to him.

The man situates the umbrella above his head and waits for you to scurry over to his side before you start the short journey to your apartment building.

Your budding friendship with Riddle is almost perfect.

Despite your initial judgment, Riddle is actually someone who likes to smile and crack jokes a lot. He’s good at listening to your problems and giving advice when you ask for it — and on the same token, he knows exactly what to say to cheer you up when you’re upset.

The only problem with your friendship is that what started off as an infatuation with the man has turned to a full-blown crush.

“Hello, my precious friends!”

Oh, and also now Cater won’t leave the two of you alone during working hours.

“Cater… we literally just got here. How do you have so much energy already?” you groan as you pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to fight back an oncoming headache.

“Are you alright?” Riddle asks, the concern clear in his voice when he notices the pained look on your face.

“Yeah, I just haven’t had my coffee yet,” you offer Riddle as wide a smile as you could muster up in the moment. “Thanks for asking.”

“Of course,” Riddle smiles brightly at you before it quickly disappears when he turns his attention back to Cater. “Go. Shoo before I have your head. We’ll see you for lunch.”

“Sheesh, it’s been a while since you’ve said that. It’s still scary… G-2-G!”

With that, Cater scurries away towards his own department and leaves the two of you to wordlessly turn to your computers.

Every adult has their own daily routines, and somehow you’ve made yours around the two least likely friends you could have made.

You’re grateful for their presence though, and especially for Cater’s outgoing personality — no matter how annoying he could get sometimes — because you would have been too shy and awkward to reach out to anyone first.

Another plus? Work goes by so much faster when you have something to look forward to for lunch hours and after work hours.

None of you like to leave the building in search of better food than the menus served in the company’s cafeteria. So, at 1:00 P.M. sharp, you always meet up at the basement floor to debate what is and isn’t going to give you food poisoning.

The safest bet? An egg salad sandwich and a bag of chips.

“I don’t know why you subject yourself to this mediocre food, Riddle. You’re the only one out of the three of us who can actually cook,” you jokingly comment once you’ve found an empty table to sit at.

“He’s let you try his food before?” Cater asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No, but it always smelled good when he brought it in the past. Wait— is that weird to say? I’m sorry if it’s weird,” you grimace, but Riddle chuckles at your comment and shakes his head.

“It’s not weird, don’t worry. I just haven’t had enough time to cook in advance with all the extra hours I’ve been working.”

“You know that those hours are optional and you really should go home and get some sleep— right?”

“There’s no use in trying to convince him, y/n,” Cater cuts into the conversation with a cheeky grin. “But since Riddle’s too busy, I’ll spend time with you instead! We can learn how to cook together.”

You squint your eyes at the mischievous man and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “why would I want to do that?”

“Ouch,” Cater gasps dramatically as he falls back on his chair and clutches his chest.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Could it be because…” Cater leans forward on the table clearly unphased and fake whispers, “you’re interested in someone else?”

You could practically see Riddle’s ears perk up at Cater’s words and you wave your hands frantically to dismiss the accusation.

“Wh— I’m not— I’m not interested in anyone,” you stammer out, hoping your burning cheeks don’t betray how flustered you are.

You miss the way Riddle’s face briefly falls in disappointment, but Cater doesn’t. It’s like that was the light switch that turned a light bulb on inside his head and he suddenly places his hands over yours.

“Then you can’t say no to going on a date with me!”

“Y—yes, I can,” you protest, but it comes out sounding more like a question.

You know that the man has no romantic interest in you, so you’re not sure where this request for a date came from. But with the determined look on his face and a familiar glint in his green orbs, you know that he’s up to some sort of mischief again.

“Fine, we can learn how to cook together. If that’s what you mean by ‘a date’,” you sigh and pull your hands away from Cater’s grasp.

“Great!” Cater exclaims and shoots Riddle an innocent smile, “we can do that after you walk Riddle home today.”

“Is it really necessary to appoint y/n as my chaperone?” Riddle finally speaks up with a hint of annoyance to his voice.

You’re caught off guard by the tone of his voice. You’ve never known Riddle to be someone who could get upset or annoyed easily, but you suppose you don’t know everything about him.

Besides, getting cranky is a side effect of being sleep deprived — or so Mr. Google would have you believe.

“I’ll walk you home, I don’t mind,” you meet Riddle’s tired eyes and smile softly. “And just like last time, I won’t take no for an answer so don’t even try it.”

“Okay, fine,” Riddle smiles half-heartedly and shoves the remnants of his egg salad sandwich back into its ziplock bag. “I’ll try to finish early so you won’t be late for your… date.”

You and Cater exchange glances, yours filled with confusion and his filled with smugness; looks like his hunch may be right after all.

After knowing the man for a decent amount of time, you still think that Riddle Rosehearts is almost perfect.

He’s a diligent worker and a wonderful friend, but you can never guess what’s on his mind — nor is he ever vocal about his feelings.

Well, you suppose that might be seen as a strength in some people’s eyes.

After lunch, you could tell that something was bugging Riddle. He didn’t spare you a glance for the rest of the day until it was time for you to go home — and even then, he barely spoke a word as you rode the elevator down to the lobby.

“It’s raining again,” Riddle comments while rummaging through his backpack. “But don’t worry, I… I have my umbrella? I can’t find it— what?”

He looks up when you poke at his shoulder and see a familiar rose red bundle in your hand. His eyes widen in surprise at the sight of his umbrella in your possession, “I don’t remember leaving that with you.”

“It’s not yours, actually,” you correct him with a gentle smile. “We just happen to have the same colored umbrella.”

“Small world. I must have left mine drying at home,” he readjusts his backpack, stepping aside to let you exit the building first and open your umbrella.

“That was over a week ago, Riddle.”

“Did I mention I have a bad memory?” you give Riddle a look of disbelief, knowing that no one with bad memory would be able to remember 810 rules and still remember them well after finishing school.

“I have a bad memory too, but apparently not as bad as yours,” you joke, poking the man at his side.

Riddle hums and stares at the sidewalk ahead, ears growing red from the feeling of your unwavering eyes on him. For a few minutes, you walk in silence, the only sound being the rain gently pattering on the nylon material of the umbrella.

Every now and then, Riddle would steal glances at you. It’s not the first time he’s done it. Even at work, he couldn’t help stealing glances at you.

He was never sure of what the reason for that could be — until he listened to you accept to go on a date with his friend.

Instead of being happy for the two of you, he felt jealous; jealous that Cater had the courage to ask you out and jealous that you accepted.

But did he have any right to feel jealous when he knew you were interested in him before — and he didn’t make a single move then?

Maybe he could change that now.

“Would… would your memory be bad enough to forget that you have a date with Cater tonight?” Riddle hesitantly asks, his voice almost too quiet for you to hear him over the rain.

“I don’t need a bad memory to forget about that. No offense to Cater. He’s great and all, but…” your voice trails off before you bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from elaborating.

“But?”

“Oh, no, mister. You tell me why you’re bringing up Cater when we both know he was definitely just pulling my leg earlier.”

“Well,” Riddle breathes out, face beginning to turn the same shade of red as his hair, “he was definitely pulling mine too.”

“What do you mean?”

The two of you stop walking when you reach an all-way stop and Riddle turns to you with his lips pressed into a thin line. He appears to be deep in thought and you know better than to interrupt him in the middle of it.

“I think— no, I know. I like you,” Riddle blurts out before he could talk himself out of it.

“Like… as a friend?” you question and grip the strap of your bag tightly.

“No, as more than a friend. And I can’t believe Cater was the one that made me realize that,” Riddle laughs shortly.

“Oh, well, I—I like you too,” you can’t help but giggle nervously after your confession.

“So, that means it’s not too late for me to ask you out on a coffee date?”

“No, Riddle, it’s not too late,” You take a step towards the man and, after mustering up all the courage you have, lean in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’d love to go on a coffee date with you.”

Do not speak to me for a few minutes. I’m molting. I need a beach episode event like, now.

Art is by yudo_fu_nabe on Twitter!

Pairing: Epel x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff

In this world, soulmates do exist.

No one knows when they will meet theirs or if they ever will, but chances of the latter is very unlikely.

See, the universe has a funny way of bringing two destined souls together; in this case, soulmates are brought together through music.

As a result, it isn’t strange for one, or two, or even a dozen people to suddenly start singing in the middle of the street. The more fortunate members of society are able to contain this urge, and you’re fortunately one of them.

But balance is a must.

So, while most soulmates will start singing the same song no matter where or how far apart they are, you have to deal with a song playing on repeat in your head for an undisclosed amount of time. It’s similar to how people say they have a catchy song stuck in their head, but you hear your soulmate’s voice singing to you instead.

Luck is truly on your side though, because you think that your soulmate has one of the loveliest voices that you’ve ever heard.

Or do you only think that because it’s your soulmate?

You wonder what they must be like. Definitely an interesting person based only on their music taste — which is completely random. They could be singing a tune that probably should belong in an opera and suddenly change to a song about baking a cake the next.

You never knew what to expect from them, least of all silence.

But that’s exactly what you got today.

If this wasn’t something out of the ordinary, you wouldn’t have been so worried. But you couldn’t help but think of all the things that could be wrong.

It’s for this reason that you’ve dragged your friends out to the nearest tea shop: to worry incessantly about someone you haven’t even met yet.

“No, I’m telling you that they have never not sung, Ace,” you groan while rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. “What if they tripped on their way to work and cracked multiple teeth, or something?”

Ace looks up at you with utter unamusement on his face as he takes another sip of his bubble tea, “that’s pretty dramatic, y/n. Maybe they’re just busy.”

“I mean, isn’t it nice to have some peace and quiet? They’ll probably go back to singing by tonight,” Jack offers before you could say anything else. “It could be worse.”

“How’s that?” you sigh before occupying yourself by taking small sips of your matcha latte.

“Our friend from college has never heard his soulmate’s voice — well, not since he was little.”

“Are you serious?” you raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit skeptical about this information.

But you weren’t one to talk; you’d always opted to wait until the late hours of the night to sing. A small part of you reasoned that you only did so to not disturb your soulmate throughout the day. But the bigger part of you knows that you’re just afraid to embarrass yourself.

“Yeah, you can ask him yourself,” Jack nods before nudging his chin towards the space behind you.

“What?”

You turn around to see a young man at the cash register paying for his drink. You can only make out the top half of his face due to his face mask, but you can already tell that he’s attractive — with wavy lavender locks that perfectly frames his face and double-lidded eyes that curve slightly at the ends, as if he has a natural wing.

You’re not sure why you can’t take your eyes off of him. You’ve seen plenty of attractive men in your life, yet…

Jack clears his throat at the same time Ace pokes at your forearm, forcing you to divert your attention back to the two.

“What?” you ask again, your eyes shifting between your friends who keep exchanging knowing looks with one-another. “Why do you look like that?”

The pair don’t answer you and instead wave over the handsome stranger that’s caught your attention. He immediately makes his way over to your table and places his hands on the chair right next to yours.

“May I sit here?” he asks, his eyes curving into crescent moons as he smiles — though it’s not visible to anyone.

You look up and accidentally make eye contact with him; and that alone is enough to make a comforting warmth spread from your heart to the rest of your body.

Both of your eyes widen in surprise, though you don’t realize that the stranger is experiencing the same exact warm comfort as you.

But why?

Jack and Ace exchange another set of knowing looks before Ace pats the table loud enough to snap you both out of your trances.

“Oh, um… y—yeah, go ahead,” you manage to stammer out, your hands nervously tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears as you turn to sit upright again.

What is wrong with you all of the sudden?

“Thank you,” the man clears his throat and moves to situate himself onto the empty seat before extending a hand out towards you, “I’m Epel, by the way.”

“O—oh,” you hesitantly reach out to wrap your fingers around Epel’s hand in a handshake, your skin immediately tingles upon contact. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

“‘Y/n’? That’s very pretty,” Epel says as his eyes curve into crescent moons once more.

“Th—thank you,” you bow your head in hopes that the shadows will conceal the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Epel, you have a pretty name too,” Ace comments in a playful tone as he pats the said man’s cheeks.

You shoot a glare at your friend, mentally cursing him for teasing you at such a time, but he only smiles innocently at you in response.

“Call me ‘pretty’ again and you’ll never see the daylight again,” Epel chuckles. “How are y’all?”

“We’re good. What’s with the mask?” Jack gestures towards Epel’s face, and he assumes that he must mean the face mask.

“I caught a cold — just my luck,” Epel sighs.

“Is Vil going to cut you some slack today then?”

Epel shakes his head, “nah… I just won’t be able to sing as much as I usually do. Which is why I’m saving my voice as much as I can.”

“What if they’re sick?!” you suddenly exclaim, prompting Epel to turn towards you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“They’re talking about their soulmate again,” Ace whines before planting his face onto Jack’s shoulder.

“Oh? Why, what’s up? Did you finally meet them?”

“No…” you shake your head before giving your friends an apologetic look, “they’ve just stopped singing — and they always sing. So maybe they’re sick!”

“Sounds like me,” Epel says jokingly with a grin, but his laugh is cut short by the alarmed look on your face. “I—I’m kidding. I just meant that I sing all the time too for—well, really because Housewarden Vil asks me to.”

Watching the awkward exchange prompts Ace to hunch over and start coughing, but you can hear his hidden “smooth” in between the sharp sounds. You shoot your friend a glare before placing a hand on top of Epel’s — and it’s just a gesture of reassurance.

At least that’s what you try convincing yourself of.

“So,” you start, hoping to change the conversation’s topic for everyone’s sake, “is there any particular reason why you’re being made to focus on your singing skills?”

“Oh!” you can see the glimmers of happiness in Epel’s eyes as he begins to talk animatedly about his hobby. “It’s ‘cause of my family’s apple farm. Which, hear me out, ‘cause I know you’re prolly thinkin’ ‘how is that even related’? But…”

Then Epel begins to explain how his family business experienced a boom in business after this year’s SDC, and he saw this as motivation to work on strengthening his charms. After all, Harveston isn’t a well-known part of Twisted Wonderland; and if he works hard enough, he could help not only his family, but the other elders in the village as well.

“Then Vil had this great idea that we should start an NRC radio show. I like to call it the Epel Farm but Vil was not a fan of that. And, well— it’s more of a ‘daily podcast’ than it is a radio show. I do a lot of different things depending on my mood; sometimes I’ll give advice to my listeners or just play music — and sing, of course. I surprisingly like it a lot.”

“You seem to be very passionate about your family and apples. It’s wonderful that you’ve got such a strong source of motivation,” you can only offer a sheepish smile as your head is still spinning from the overload of information Epel just spilled onto you. “I haven’t gotten the chance to tune in yet, but your radio show sounds great.”

And the two of you continue your conversation just like that, completely forgetting that you have other friends sitting right across the table. Too enamored with one-another to even notice their amused stares.

Truth be told, Ace and Jack had a sneaking suspicion that they knew who your soulmate was for a while now. Epel’s too.

At first, it seemed like a coincidence. You’d whine about the fact that you couldn’t focus well when your soulmate keeps singing a song about washing the dishes. Then that same night, they would hear Epel singing a similar song in a pre-recording of Epel Farm.

When asked, Epel had told them that he rarely hears his soulmate’s voice unless he stayed up late enough. He’d wake up with swollen eyes the morning after and was surely scolded by Vil, but he always thought that it was worth it.

They connected the distant grey dots when you told them you try not to sing until nightfall in fear of disturbing your soulmate’s day.

The coincidences continued to pile on from there, and Ace finally convinced Epel to meet you for confirmation.

Except he left out the part where you were going to be here today.

But Epel is smart and he catches on very quickly. It also helps that your friends were not very subtle with the way they were gawking at you two as you conversed.

You must be someone special. He could tell from the moment you made eye contact earlier.

Whereas your parents never told you the feeling of meeting your soulmate — not to mention your friends haven’t experienced such things either — Epel was more blessed.

He’s been excited to meet you since the moment his parents recounted the day that they met. The feeling of comfort and warmth, like basking under the hot summer sun or wrapping yourself up in your favorite blanket on a snowy day.

The same exact feeling he had when he first saw you.

But he’s not one to jump to conclusions. He needed solid evidence, and there’s only one way he knows how to collect it. Subtly.

“Do you want to come back to Pomefiore with me then? I’m about to head down, and it’ll give you a chance to finally listen in,” Epel offers, holding his breath as he waits for your answer.

You hum in thought, glancing over at your friends for their confirmation before nodding, “sure, I would love to.”

“Perfect, I’ll go grab my drink and we can go.”

Underneath the face mask, Epel is absolutely beaming in delight but he tries his best not to jump for joy right away. Instead, he counts to ten in his head to calm his nerves before he gets up from his seat, “oh— Ace and Jack, you guys can come too. Just don’t break anything this time.”

“Wh— it was totally Jack’s fault for scaring me!” Ace tries to defend himself but the shorter man is already out of earshot. He sighs, lips jutting out into a pout as he crosses his arms and slumps back down his seat.

“Your soulmate sucks, y/n,” Ace grumbles due to his hurt pride, the weight of his words not registering until he notices the way you stare at him with raised eyebrows.

“Who’s my soulmate?” you snort and lean forward to gently smack Ace’s hand. “Don’t joke around like that!”

“S—sorry,” Ace scratches the back of his head, the toothy smile he offers you filled with awkwardness.

Were you always this naive, or pretending to ignore the fact that he just slipped up?

His eyes shift up to look at something behind you and he breathes a sigh of relief before jumping out of his seat, “Epel! Great! Let’s get going before you’re late!”

“Uh— Okay, okay,” Epel holds his hands up in defeat as he allows Ace to usher him out of the tea shop.

You and Jack follow not too far behind, with you clinging onto your friend’s arm for warmth and protection against the chilly autumn breeze.

Thankfully — and surprisingly — the walk back to the Pomefiore dorm was only about one mile, tops. It was still a half an hour walk, but you can’t complain in the presence of good company. Plus, it probably would be a few days’ walk if you didn’t have a mirror to transport you to anywhere you want to go.

“Here we are,” Epel announces, his voice quieter and a softer tone than it had been at the tea shop. He stops walking right outside a door to a room marked with a medium-sized apple sign. “Please come in.”

Epel hurries to hold the door open for you, and you can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles up your throat as you walk past him.

How adorable, you think to yourself.

You absolutely adored the way that he so enthusiastically talked about his radio show earlier, and you can see now that he truly treats this place like his second home.

True to its name, the interior of the room is decorated with shades of green and various apple drawings randomly placed on the wall. Just like an apple orchard.

The environment is bright and warm, and if Epel was a room this is what you imagine he would look like. Is that strange?

“Okay, follow me. You guys can sit right outside of the broadcasting booth, and we’ll be able to see each other,” Epel gestures for your trio to follow him deeper into the room.

His face mask is pulled down now, exposing the lower half of his face, and you can’t help but to steal glances at him every few seconds. You had the gut feeling that he would be attractive, but nothing could prepare you for how pretty the man truly was.

Lost in thought — well, more like Epel’s face — you don’t notice that your friends have stopped walking and you face plant directly into Jack’s shoulder, causing you to stumble back ungracefully.

“Are you okay?” he looks back in concern.

“Uh, yes,” you affirm, a hand rubbing at your sore forehead.

“Be careful,” Epel comments before reaching out and taking a hold of your hand. He gently pries it off your forehead and leans forward to study the blanket of red on your skin. “It doesn’t look bad, but if it still hurts and you want to ice it, please let me know.”

“Okay, t—thank you,” you whisper.

From the close proximity, you have the opportunity to see his features more clearly — from his piercing light blue orbs to his adorable plump cheeks down to his rosy lips.

You’re not sure why you couldn’t stop staring at him, or why the same warmth as before is spreading through your body again. But the feeling is very much welcomed.

Unbeknownst to you, Epel feels the same way.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pops the momentary bubble you were encased in, causing the two of you to take a step away from one-another.

“Epel. We need to go check the sounds now,” a very familiar man stands off to the side, his face seeming as if he’d showed up someplace he wasn’t supposed to.

“Thank you, Housewarden Vil. I’ll be right there.”

“Alright. And Jack. Ace. Y/n. It’s a pleasure to see you all again,” Vil greets you all politely before he turns on his heels and hurries back inside what you presume is the broadcasting booth.

“Have a seat. You should be able to hear the broadcast through the speaker here,” Epel gestures towards a seemingly misplaced large speaker just outside of the broadcasting booth. When he turns back to you, he flashes a bright smile that has your heart suddenly skipping a beat. “I hope you’ll like it.”

With that, you both part ways. Epel walks to the broadcast booth while you walk over to where your friends have retreated minutes earlier.

“I feel strange,” you confess after situating yourself in a seat facing the glass door to the booth.

Jack and Ace exchange looks for what seems like the hundredth time that day before Jack says, “a good strange? Or did you already catch Epel’s cold?”

“I don’t know, but… I feel so warm and fuzzy. So I guess that’s good? I—” your sentence is cut off by a familiar voice in your head, and you let out a short sound of relief.

Your friends give you looks of confusion mixed with worry, mostly because your mood suddenly changed and they can’t tell if you’ve suddenly lost your mind. But you shake your head and whisper, “my soulmate is singing again!”

Jack eyes flicker briefly towards Epel, who seems to be speaking into a mic, before coming back to you, “what’s he singing?”

“Actually, it’s not a made-up song for chores this time,” you hum along to the lyrics in your head, your brain working to figure out what song is playing before it clicks. “Ah! It’s ‘Piece of My World’.”

Jack nods as he hops off his seat and makes his way to the speaker Epel pointed out earlier. His fingers fumble with the controls before you suddenly hear the same song blasting through them as the one in your head.

“How?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stare at the speaker. “That’s such a weird coincidence.”

Surely this was just a coincidence, right? But the more you listen, the farther away the voice in your head gets, the voice coming from the speaker replacing it instead.

The same voice that you’ve heard every day for as long as you can remember.

Your soulmate’s voice.

You stand up, hesitantly inching closer to the speaker, where Jack is giving you an apologetic look. How long had he known?

A million thoughts were running through your mind per second, faster than your heart is racing at the moment.

But when you’re a few feet away from the glass door, it suddenly makes sense to you. The way you felt so comfortable around him, how easily attracted you were to him, and why your friends had insisted you meet him all those times before.

Somehow they always knew, but now you know too.

Feeling eyes on him, Epel looks towards the door and makes eye contact with you. His mouth falls open to a small “o” when he sees the look of utter astonishment on your face.

Did you figure it out? Was he right?

Your lips moved, though he couldn’t hear what you were saying through the soundproof walls. That didn’t matter, however, because suddenly a voice greets his mind. One that he hasn’t heard sing to him when the sun is still up in years.

“You’re my soulmate.”

i have looked far and wide to find your gladiator lilia fic, im so glad to finally find it again

Aaaah, I hope you enjoyed it. 🥹🫶🏼

Roller skating at Skate City. That was your boyfriend’s bright idea when you told him that you’d let him choose where to go for your next date night.

It’s not that you had a problem with how relatively lowkey the activity is. No, it’s more so that the last time you tried doing something like this, both you two and your friends ended the night with mouthfuls of ice.

But still, you couldn’t deny all the fun that was had, so the night was fondly known as The Christmas Ice Skating Disaster amongst your friends.

All this to say that you can only imagine this date night ending with more than a couple of bruises on your shins.

“Come on, y/n!” Trey calls out, one hand stretched out towards you while the other is holding onto the rink barrier. He notices the skeptical look on your face as you stumble towards him and rolls his eyes, “I promise that you’re going to be okay.”

“Hold on, I’m coming,” you huff, your voice barely audible above the loud old-school pop music playing.

Your eyes are fixed on the carpet below you as you focus on trying not to slip on the glow-in-the dark material. You feel a hand grab onto the bend of your elbow and look up in confusion to find Trey standing beside you.

“You were taking too long. I’ll help you,” Trey explains with a teasing tone in his voice.

He sticks his tongue out before moving to stand behind you and pushing you towards the skating rink. You had half the mind to scold him for endangering you, but the words die in your throat when you realize that you were moving without a single stumble.

Well, that’s a pleasant surprise.

“Come on, baby,” Trey repeats, mimicking his earlier actions after he’s stepped inside the rink.

“Should I be concerned that you’re acting really confident for someone who sucks at skating?” you ask half-jokingly but place your hand in your boyfriend’s outstretched one anyways.

“That was ice skating. This is roller skating,” Trey grins as he watches you stumble ungracefully. “Which — no offense, babe — you definitely suck at more than me.”

“Uh… I definitely take offense to th— ah!” you let out a yelp as your feet suddenly slip back, causing your upper body to lurch forward.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the fall that never came. Instead, you fell straight into Trey’s waiting arms and your hands instinctively clutch onto his sweater’s sleeve. You open one eye to peek at your boyfriend, who has a relatively proud look about him.

“So… are you planning to stay glued to my side the whole day?” Trey asks with another cheeky grin, “or should I let you flounder around the skating rink on your own?”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “okay, just because you haven’t fallen over yet doesn’t mean you’re the better skater— okay, wait! I’m sorry!”

Your grip on Trey’s sleeve tightens when he makes a move to pull his arms back. You both know that he would never actually let go of you, but your body reacted out of pure survival instincts. In this case, you wanted to save yourself from an embarrassing public face plant.

“Glued to my side it is!” Trey chuckles as he loosely wraps his arms around your waist from behind. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you.”

gladiator lilia.. JUST A DASH OF ANGST?? I FELT MY HEART CRUMBLE AND BREAK TO AOTA NOOOOOOOO LILIAAAA DEUCEEE

it doesnt help that ive studied the destruction of pompeii for years 😭😭😭 - eve

AAAAAAAA I initially was going to make it open-ended but decided to torture myself instead. ;_;

That’s so cool though! It was definitely an interesting event to research, so I hope I did it an ounce of justice!

Hello, I’m alive and I’m still writing — kind of. 🥹

I’ve had two WIP fics for Silver and Malleus with the plots all ready to go in my mind. But y’know what, my Kryptonite is that I put way too much detail and context in (which may be a good thing but I need to reel it back omg). So my motivation runs out bc why are these fics not even close to done yet? 😭

Well, if anyone is interested, here’s a sneak peek of what’s in the Silver fic. Just some casual cockblocking from my sunshine boi. :^)

Hello! I recently found your blog and I’m in love with it and your writing! I wish we could be friends.🥹

Hello! Thank you so much, you’re so sweet (so the cotton candy keyword is very accurate hehe). 💛 and I would love to be friends! 🥺

I hope every writer who sees this writes LOADS the next few months. Like freetime opens up, no writers block, the ability to focus, etc etc you're able to write loads & make lots of progress <3