Can I request the Twst first years with an S/O who wears glasses? And one day while they're out her glasses fall and break so she asks the guy to be her "seeing-eye boyfriend" until she can get her replacement pair?
How would first years react if your glasses broke and you asked them to be your "seeing-eye boyfriend"?
The fall was almost cinematic—one second you're both walking through the courtyard with milkshakes in hand, and the next, your glasses clatter to the stone path with a crisp snap that silences your breath.
Ace blinks down at the broken frames.
“...Well. That sucks.”
Very helpful commentary.
You groan, squinting at the blurry world around you. Everything’s turned into a watercolor painting, pretty, but useless. You reach for your bag, already fumbling for a cleaning cloth or something that might do the impossible and fix them.
Ace crouches down beside you, holding up the broken arm of your glasses like a forensic detective.
“Yeah, no saving these. They're totally toast,” he says and grins.
“Guess you’re stuck with me now.”
You blink. “Huh?”
“Your seeing-eye boyfriend. Come on,” he says, puffing his chest.
“I volunteer as tribute.”
“You? You’d lead me into Crowley's office just for fun.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d wait for an excuse,” he shoots back, clearly enjoying this way too much. Still, he steps in beside you, grabbing your hand with more confidence than usual.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be your noble guide through the treacherous lands of blurry hallways and evil staircases.”
Honestly? It’s kind of adorable.
Except…
“Ace,” you hiss as you walk face-first into a hedge, “that was definitely a bush.”
“Oh, oops.” He stifles a laugh. “My bad. I was looking at a crow that looked kinda like Riddle.”
You smack his arm, and he catches your hand before you can escape.
“Okay, okay, for real this time. I swear I’ll guide you”
And he does. Sort of.
Ace’s version of “guiding” includes narrating everything in dramatic tones (“A wild vending machine appears!”), making traffic beeping noises at crosswalks, and waving off student with
“Move aside! VIP coming through.”
But in between the jokes, he’s surprisingly attentive. He warns you about uneven pavement. He helps you down stairs. He gently turns you in the right direction when you start to wander. And when someone asks why he’s being so clingy, he just says:
“Can’t help it. Gotta take care of my favorite person, right?”
When your new glasses finally arrive a few days later, Ace squints at you dramatically.
“Huh. You were even cuter when you were blurry. Guess I’ll just have to date you all over again in HD.”
The moment your glasses fall, Deuce gasps like he just witnessed a crime. You tripped over a rock and fell to the ground. He scrambles to pick them up before you can even get up.
“Are you okay?! Did you hit your head? Oh no—your glasses…”
One look at the snapped arm, and he looks genuinely distressed.
“I can’t believe I didn’t catch you! If only I’d moved faster—”
“Deuce, it’s okay,” you laugh softly, reaching out to pat his shoulder.
“They’re just glasses. I’ve got a backup pair somewhere, I just need to find them later.”
“But you can’t see without them, right?” He holds the broken pair like he’s holding a wounded bird.
“Then—I’ll help. I mean, I’ll… um. Be your… your seeing-eye… boyfriend?”
The way he says it makes you smile.
“…Yeah,” you reply, slipping your hand into his. “That’d help a lot, actually.”
Deuce turns red immediately. His grip on your hand tightens just a little.
Walking with Deuce as your guide is like navigating with an overenthusiastic, overprotective golden retriever. He’s very serious about the job. He announces every step, every turn, every uneven stone like he's defusing a bomb.
“There’s a crack in the pavement coming up. And uh—three steps down. Careful. Okay, good. We’re clear.”
Sometimes you have to stop and remind him not to overthink it.
“You don’t need to call out every single pebble,” you tease.
“I just don’t want you to trip!” he insists, puffing up. “What if you fall and break something? What if I let go and you bump into a wall? What if—”
You gently squeeze his hand. “Deuce. I trust you.”
That short-circuits him for a few seconds.
“…I won’t let you down,” he says, a little softer. “I’ve got you.”
And he does.
He slows his pace to match yours. Offers his arm like a perfect gentleman. Even tries to describe the world around you so you don’t miss out.
“There’s this really pretty bird in the tree ahead—it’s blue and has this weird feather that sticks up—kinda looks like it has a cowlick…”
When you finally get your backup pair of glasses a few days later and slide them on, Deuce stares at you with wide eyes.
“You’re amazing no matter what, but seeing your eyes properly again is…” He stops himself, going bright red.
“I-I mean—you look beautiful. Always. I’m just glad I could help.”
You smile, reaching for his hand again.
“You were the best seeing-eye boyfriend I could’ve asked for.”
He beams. “Anytime.”
The second your glasses hit the ground, Jack’s ears twitch. He doesn’t even hesitate—just crouches and scoops them up, holding the broken frames in his hand like they might somehow fix themselves if he stares hard enough.
“You okay?” he asks, already checking you over for injuries like a concerned older brother. “Did they cut you or anything?”
You shake your head, though your squint makes Jack frown.
“Can’t see much now, though,” you admit, trying to hold the glasses up to judge if they’re wearable.
They’re not. One arm’s completely snapped off and the lens is scratched.
Jack stands straight, folding his arms.
“Alright. Then I’ll walk you back to Ramshackle. Or wherever else you need to go.”
You tilt your head. “You sure?”
"Of course. I can’t just leave you wandering around blind. That’d be irresponsible.”
“Then… can you be my seeing-eye boyfriend for a few days?”
His tail stops wagging. You can almost hear the reboot noise in his brain.
“I—uh. That’s… yeah. I can do that.”
True to form, Jack is efficient, steady, and very aware of his job. He walks at your pace, always slightly in front or to the side so you have an anchor. He doesn’t talk too much—just enough to say things like “step here,” “slippery patch coming up,” or “handrail’s on your left.”
At one point, you trip slightly on a slope and instinctively reach for him—and Jack immediately grabs your hand, pulling you against his side.
“You good?”
“…Yeah,” you mumble, flushed from the sudden proximity.
Jack doesn’t let go. In fact, he holds your hand the rest of the way. Quietly. Warmly. His fingers are a little calloused, but they’re gentle.
When you get your replacement glasses, Jack glances at you with this subtle but very "Jack" kind of softness.
“Glad you got them back. But… if they break again, I wouldn’t mind helping you. Just so you know.”
He turns his head to the side quickly.
“…It’s not a big deal or anything.”
But his tail is wagging again.
The crack of your glasses hitting the ground is followed by Epel’s immediate gasp of, “Whoa—shoot! You okay?!”
He’s already dropped his bag to inspect the damage like a concerned old farmhand looking over a busted tractor.
“Ahh, the frame’s toast,” he mutters. “This sucks, sugar…”
You blink through the blur. “Everything’s fuzzy.”
“You want me to… walk you back or something?”
“Actually, you’re my seeing-eye boyfriend now,” you say, holding out your hand like you expect it.
He stares at you, face going pink so fast it looks like he was just slapped by the wind.
“Y-you can’t just say stuff like that without warning!!” he sputters, but then his hand grabs yours with no hesitation.
“I mean—fine! I can do that. No big deal.”
Epel is really trying to act cool about it, but his grip is just a little tight, and his ears are red for the first ten minutes of walking.
Unlike the others, he talks a lot. But it’s cute.
“Okay, sidewalk dips here. Careful. And—hold on, lemme go first and check if this puddle’s too deep. You ever step in one’a those and get water all in your boots? It’s the worst.”
He occasionally grumbles at people for walking too close to you.
“Watch it, pal. She can’t see, alright?”
At one point, you misstep and bump your shoulder into a wall, and Epel whips around like he’s about to punch the brick.
“I should’ve warned you! Dangit—sorry, sugarplum. Here, lean on me more, I’ll walk closer.”
He does, too. He even lets you rest your hand on his arm like some kind of prince.
When your new glasses arrive and you slide them on, Epel tilts his head.
“…Yeah. Still just as pretty.”
He pretends he didn’t say that.
You don’t let him pretend.
Your glasses hit the ground. The arm snaps. The lens pops out. You sigh.
Sebek screams.
“DISASTER! UTTERLY UNACCEPTABLE! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN—?!”
You cover his mouth.
“Sebek. Please. Breathe.”
When he finally calms down enough to form words that aren’t shouting, he immediately drops to one knee to inspect the glasses like they’re some ancient relic from Briar Valley.
“This is a serious matter,” he huffs, standing tall again.
“You cannot possibly navigate this campus with impaired vision. What if you trip? What if you run into an obstacle? What if—heaven forbid—you encounter a DISGRACEFUL STUDENF who knocks into you?!”
You blink at him. “So… wanna be my seeing-eye boyfriend?”
He short-circuits for a full five seconds. You could hear the error tone.
“SEEING—BOY—WHAT? I—!” His face is rapidly changing colors, caught between panic, pride...
“W-well! If you insist! Of course it would be my DUTY to assist you!”
And assist he does.
Sebek walks exactly half a step in front of you at all times, loudly narrating your surroundings like a royal town crier.
“WE ARE APPROACHING A SET OF STAIRS. I REPEAT—A STAIRCASE. DESCENT REQUIRED.”
You try not to laugh. “Sebek, I’m right here.”
“I AM MERELY ENSURING MAXIMUM AWARENESS!”
Honestly? For all his dramatics, he’s weirdly good at this.
He even swats someone’s backpack out of your way at one point and scolds them for “failing to consider the visually disadvantaged.”
You almost feel bad when your new glasses arrive and you don them again.
Sebek blinks. “…Ah. You can see again.”
“Yep! Thanks for helping me so much.”
He nods stiffly, trying to hide how flustered he is.
“It was nothing. Merely what any exceptional man would do in such a situation!”
You step closer and kiss his cheek.
He explodes.
heres an "airport theory" for you: when its late at night the planes get tucked into big blankets to sleep
Shit man, this wizard war is fucked. I just saw a guy clap his hands together and say "the ten hells" or some similar shit, and every one around him turned inside out, had their tibia explode and then disappeared. The camera didn't even go onto him, that's how common shit like this is. My ass is casting frostbite and level 2 poison. I think I just heard "power word:scrunch" two groups over. I gotta get the fuck outta here.
Yeah sure I'll sexualize that fictional man, it's 5 o'clock somewhere
hands🥰😇
Pookie
you must be cold
Well if this ain't relatable af