strawberrygummiess

[strawberrygummiess]

u.s. presidential election: 👎🏽

leech twins birthday: 👍🏽

[strawberrygummiess]

goo goo muck.

floyd leech x gender neutral! reader 1.4k words cross posted on ao3 "By the time this year’s Halloween was over, you never wanted to see a piece of candy again—especially no trick-or-treaters. But now you were in a dance hall in a pocket dimension, tired and annoyed, watching the students’ party when all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep. Bah, humbug, or whatever the Halloween equivalent was." (sorry for posting this after Halloween)

If there was a competition for being Halloween’s biggest Scrooge, you’d win it.

As a kid, you loved Halloween—the obvious candy collection, of course, but also the costumes, the décor, and the overall joy the season carried. Even now, you would’ve loved Halloween if you weren’t forced to work seven days straight to keep annoying teenagers out of your dorm room.

By the time this year’s Halloween was over, you never wanted to see a piece of candy again—especially no trick-or-treaters. But now you were in a dance hall in a pocket dimension, tired and annoyed, watching the students’ party when all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep.

Bah, humbug, or whatever the Halloween equivalent was.

You were glowering in a lone corner, holding a drink in one hand and rubbing your temple with the other. Your head was pounding. Lilia insisted that the music be deafening, and it felt like the ghosts might hold you here indefinitely. And the longer you stayed, the grumpier you got, your scowl getting deeper and deeper. At this point, the pounding of your head synced with the beat of the loud techno.

"Woah, Shrimpy, if you keep frowning, your face’ll get stuck like that.”

You purse your lips and look up at Floyd. On a good day, you can only handle Floyd in small doses. On a bad day, you just wanted him to go away. You liked Floyd, but he was not something you were capable of handling while your head was seconds away from exploding.

“It’ll be perfect for Halloween then, won’t it? A scary face for a scary day.”

You mean it to be dismissive and boring. But you should know better than to assume Floyd will leave you alone so easily. You know Floyd has a bit of fascination with you. At first, you were concerned, especially when- in between cheers of joy- Riddle gave you half-hearted condolences. But Jade had eased your concerns, saying that “you weren’t so interesting to hold his attention for that long” and that he’d eventually grow bored of you (whatever that meant). But that was months ago, and he was still going strong. And Riddle was still happy to revel in your misery.

Floyd grins and joins you along the wall, and you can’t help the sigh that escapes you. You catch the frown on his face and rub your temples again. The music is much too loud.

“What gives Shrimpy? You’re being a big stick-in-the-mud,” Floyd whines, scrunching his body so his face is level with yours. You sigh again and take a sip of your drink. You could lie and say there’s nothing wrong or that you can’t dance, but he’s not stupid. The longer you stretch this out, the worse it’ll be for you.

“My head hurts, and I’m really tired." You start, finally looking at him. His full attention is on you, and it’s slightly unsettling. You’ve always liked how his eye glowed in the dark, but now it was too intense. It was like you were wronging him by denying him his fun, even if it was at your expense. You break eye contact.

“My head feels like it’s going to explode, and this music is not helping.”

You stare at the ground, counting the tiles under your feet while you wait for Floyd to respond. You assume he’ll say something about you being boring or try to get you to ignore your pain to entertain him. But instead, he says nothing. For a long time. So long you have to check if he’s still there.

He’s staring at you when you look again. Face blank, eyes focused. He straightened up back to full height, an imposing figure staring down at you with one glowing eye. He looks terrifying in the dark.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—to save yourself, but Floyd begins to giggle.

“Oh man, I’m DIGGIN’ that look, Little Shrimpy. I gotta make your face contort in fear more often.”

You hadn’t realized you were making a face. Now you hope he can see your irritation.

"Aww, don’t get all clammy on me, Shrimpy,” Floyd whines, moving from his place on the wall to stand in front of you. He raises his hands to cradle your head, and your heart beats wildly in your chest. You can’t tell if you’re scared this time.

“Do you feel the pressure here?” He moves his hands to your temples. “Or here?” He takes his right hand and gently rubs his thumb under your eyebrow.

You use your open eye to look up at him, trying to see if he planned on crushing your skull then and there. But he only gives you a lazy smile, patiently waiting for you to answer him, absentmindedly rubbing your face. It might’ve felt better if it was skin-on-skin contact, but the fabric on the glove was beginning to irritate your skin.

“My temples,” you answer, wincing when he moves his hand. Floyd hadn’t been rubbing the skin that hard or for long. Maybe you could ask Epel to share some moisturizers with you later.

Floyd puts his hands back on your temples. You assume he’s going to rub the sides of them like you were doing earlier, but when you look back up, you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

He looks giddy, with a wild grin on his face and his eyes focused like a hunter. This is the face he makes when he’s given the green light from Azul to “squeeze” some unruly patrons of Mostro Lounge. And now he’s giving you the same look, hands wrapped tightly around your head.

You were going to die.

You can’t bear to look Floyd in the eyes anymore and squeeze them shut. Hopefully, this means when he crushes your skull, your eyes won’t pop out. You’ve always wanted an open-casket funeral. You hear Floyd cackle in glee, and your head throbs again. If anything, you were thankful that you wouldn’t have to deal with your migraine anymore.

Floyd puts pressure on your temples, slowly squeezing your skull. You feel it slowly, the sensation blossoming from where his palms are to the orbital region of your skull. You wait for your head to explode violently, but it never comes. Instead, you realize your headache has subdued significantly, barely feeling the throbbing sensation at all anymore.

Your eyes shoot open, and you look at Floyd shocked. He meets your gaze and begins to giggle again.

“Dude, you’re full of fun expressions. What’d you think I was gonna do?”

“Not that! You looked like you were ready to kill me!” You try to defend yourself, but you look silly, head crushed between Floyd’s hands.

“You’d know if I was gonna squeeze you in the bad way. This is the good squeeze that makes your headaches go away. I do it to Jade all the time." To emphasize his point, he adds more pressure to your temples.

You pout, because he’s right. It is making your headache go away. And because you know you’ll be stuck with Floyd for another month while you are indebted to him. Maybe if you got enough headaches, you could bore him away.

“Well?” Floyd draws the L’s out in a sing-song manner. “Feelin’ any better, Shrimpy?”

You feel a lot better. Your headache isn’t fully gone, but it’s manageable now. Hopefully, the ghosts will declare the party over and release you soon. Floyd’s squeezing can’t fight exhaustion, and now that’s your biggest problem.

You grab Floyd’s hands and move them from your temples, rubbing the top of his hands with your thumbs. You smile appreciatively, genuinely happy to be freed from your migraine.

“Yes, thank you.”

You try to let go of Floyd’s hands, but he moves to interlock them, his wild grin back on his face. He leans down to your level again, his glowing eye narrowing as his smile grows impossibly wide. You initially thought you tamed the beast, but your naiveté left you caught in his trap.

“Good, now we gotta dance. I’m not letting you go ‘til you collapse." He pulls you away from the wall quickly, dragging you to the center of the dance floor and twirling you around until you’re dizzy.

Make it two more months stuck with Floyd.

[strawberrygummiess]

goo goo muck.

floyd leech x gender neutral! reader 1.4k words cross posted on ao3 "By the time this year’s Halloween was over, you never wanted to see a piece of candy again—especially no trick-or-treaters. But now you were in a dance hall in a pocket dimension, tired and annoyed, watching the students’ party when all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep. Bah, humbug, or whatever the Halloween equivalent was." (sorry for posting this after Halloween)

If there was a competition for being Halloween’s biggest Scrooge, you’d win it.

As a kid, you loved Halloween—the obvious candy collection, of course, but also the costumes, the décor, and the overall joy the season carried. Even now, you would’ve loved Halloween if you weren’t forced to work seven days straight to keep annoying teenagers out of your dorm room.

By the time this year’s Halloween was over, you never wanted to see a piece of candy again—especially no trick-or-treaters. But now you were in a dance hall in a pocket dimension, tired and annoyed, watching the students’ party when all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep.

Bah, humbug, or whatever the Halloween equivalent was.

You were glowering in a lone corner, holding a drink in one hand and rubbing your temple with the other. Your head was pounding. Lilia insisted that the music be deafening, and it felt like the ghosts might hold you here indefinitely. And the longer you stayed, the grumpier you got, your scowl getting deeper and deeper. At this point, the pounding of your head synced with the beat of the loud techno.

"Woah, Shrimpy, if you keep frowning, your face’ll get stuck like that.”

You purse your lips and look up at Floyd. On a good day, you can only handle Floyd in small doses. On a bad day, you just wanted him to go away. You liked Floyd, but he was not something you were capable of handling while your head was seconds away from exploding.

“It’ll be perfect for Halloween then, won’t it? A scary face for a scary day.”

You mean it to be dismissive and boring. But you should know better than to assume Floyd will leave you alone so easily. You know Floyd has a bit of fascination with you. At first, you were concerned, especially when- in between cheers of joy- Riddle gave you half-hearted condolences. But Jade had eased your concerns, saying that “you weren’t so interesting to hold his attention for that long” and that he’d eventually grow bored of you (whatever that meant). But that was months ago, and he was still going strong. And Riddle was still happy to revel in your misery.

Floyd grins and joins you along the wall, and you can’t help the sigh that escapes you. You catch the frown on his face and rub your temples again. The music is much too loud.

“What gives Shrimpy? You’re being a big stick-in-the-mud,” Floyd whines, scrunching his body so his face is level with yours. You sigh again and take a sip of your drink. You could lie and say there’s nothing wrong or that you can’t dance, but he’s not stupid. The longer you stretch this out, the worse it’ll be for you.

“My head hurts, and I’m really tired." You start, finally looking at him. His full attention is on you, and it’s slightly unsettling. You’ve always liked how his eye glowed in the dark, but now it was too intense. It was like you were wronging him by denying him his fun, even if it was at your expense. You break eye contact.

“My head feels like it’s going to explode, and this music is not helping.”

You stare at the ground, counting the tiles under your feet while you wait for Floyd to respond. You assume he’ll say something about you being boring or try to get you to ignore your pain to entertain him. But instead, he says nothing. For a long time. So long you have to check if he’s still there.

He’s staring at you when you look again. Face blank, eyes focused. He straightened up back to full height, an imposing figure staring down at you with one glowing eye. He looks terrifying in the dark.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—to save yourself, but Floyd begins to giggle.

“Oh man, I’m DIGGIN’ that look, Little Shrimpy. I gotta make your face contort in fear more often.”

You hadn’t realized you were making a face. Now you hope he can see your irritation.

"Aww, don’t get all clammy on me, Shrimpy,” Floyd whines, moving from his place on the wall to stand in front of you. He raises his hands to cradle your head, and your heart beats wildly in your chest. You can’t tell if you’re scared this time.

“Do you feel the pressure here?” He moves his hands to your temples. “Or here?” He takes his right hand and gently rubs his thumb under your eyebrow.

You use your open eye to look up at him, trying to see if he planned on crushing your skull then and there. But he only gives you a lazy smile, patiently waiting for you to answer him, absentmindedly rubbing your face. It might’ve felt better if it was skin-on-skin contact, but the fabric on the glove was beginning to irritate your skin.

“My temples,” you answer, wincing when he moves his hand. Floyd hadn’t been rubbing the skin that hard or for long. Maybe you could ask Epel to share some moisturizers with you later.

Floyd puts his hands back on your temples. You assume he’s going to rub the sides of them like you were doing earlier, but when you look back up, you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

He looks giddy, with a wild grin on his face and his eyes focused like a hunter. This is the face he makes when he’s given the green light from Azul to “squeeze” some unruly patrons of Mostro Lounge. And now he’s giving you the same look, hands wrapped tightly around your head.

You were going to die.

You can’t bear to look Floyd in the eyes anymore and squeeze them shut. Hopefully, this means when he crushes your skull, your eyes won’t pop out. You’ve always wanted an open-casket funeral. You hear Floyd cackle in glee, and your head throbs again. If anything, you were thankful that you wouldn’t have to deal with your migraine anymore.

Floyd puts pressure on your temples, slowly squeezing your skull. You feel it slowly, the sensation blossoming from where his palms are to the orbital region of your skull. You wait for your head to explode violently, but it never comes. Instead, you realize your headache has subdued significantly, barely feeling the throbbing sensation at all anymore.

Your eyes shoot open, and you look at Floyd shocked. He meets your gaze and begins to giggle again.

“Dude, you’re full of fun expressions. What’d you think I was gonna do?”

“Not that! You looked like you were ready to kill me!” You try to defend yourself, but you look silly, head crushed between Floyd’s hands.

“You’d know if I was gonna squeeze you in the bad way. This is the good squeeze that makes your headaches go away. I do it to Jade all the time." To emphasize his point, he adds more pressure to your temples.

You pout, because he’s right. It is making your headache go away. And because you know you’ll be stuck with Floyd for another month while you are indebted to him. Maybe if you got enough headaches, you could bore him away.

“Well?” Floyd draws the L’s out in a sing-song manner. “Feelin’ any better, Shrimpy?”

You feel a lot better. Your headache isn’t fully gone, but it’s manageable now. Hopefully, the ghosts will declare the party over and release you soon. Floyd’s squeezing can’t fight exhaustion, and now that’s your biggest problem.

You grab Floyd’s hands and move them from your temples, rubbing the top of his hands with your thumbs. You smile appreciatively, genuinely happy to be freed from your migraine.

“Yes, thank you.”

You try to let go of Floyd’s hands, but he moves to interlock them, his wild grin back on his face. He leans down to your level again, his glowing eye narrowing as his smile grows impossibly wide. You initially thought you tamed the beast, but your naiveté left you caught in his trap.

“Good, now we gotta dance. I’m not letting you go ‘til you collapse." He pulls you away from the wall quickly, dragging you to the center of the dance floor and twirling you around until you’re dizzy.

Make it two more months stuck with Floyd.

[strawberrygummiess]

helloooo everyone

short update post, i'm gonna be super busy this week so there might not be a new post .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. but i logged on to tell y'all i made a twitter and a bluesky! i will post more updates and casual musings on there! i will still post these kind of updates on here tho

bye for now,

-bea <3

[strawberrygummiess]

❥ Twisted Wonderland fic recs

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[strawberrygummiess]

easy.

idia shroud x gender neutral!reader 2.4k words cross posted on ao3 "Now, you sat on the sidelines, watching the team endlessly run the routine over again, clutching your cat/space heater to your chest to fight off frostbite. You severely regretted not talking to Idia more while you shopped for souvenirs and snacked on various apple products. At least you could admire him from afar."

You worked very hard for your relationship with Idia. Slowly but surely getting closer to him by sneakily probing Ortho and Azul out of any information they would give you (of course, in Azul’s case, not without a price). And it had all culminated in a budding friendship where he could barely stand to look you in the eye during a conversation, but he at least was happy to play Blockcraft with youoccasionally.

Baby steps, you supposed.

You knew Idia loved Sled Over Heels before he mentioned it to the group so while you knew his interest was piqued by Epel’s pitch to Sebek, you were pleasantly surprised to see him so excited to see him voluntell (or maybe volundemand was more appropriate) to join Epel on his homecoming trip. It was a win-win for you, seeing a brand-new city and hanging out with your crush at arguably the most romantic time of the year.

It was too bad fate was determined to make your trip to Harveston the most un-romantic, miserable weekend ever. You were here with Epel and his sledding team, freezing your butt off in Harveston. Back in your world, the cold hadn’t bothered you too badly, but the chill in Harveston was unlike anything you had experienced before. Even with the thick coat on, the bite of the winter wind still gave you full-bodied shivers. You had never been so grateful for Grim’s higher-than-average body temperature, gripping him tightly to your chest whenever he misbehaved, or you were just too cold to deal with the outside air. Which, to his dismay, was frequent.

On top of the cold, the competition took up much more of Idia’s free time than you anticipated. You weren’t a stranger to the boys’ competitive streak, having seen them all display it throughout your time at Night Raven College but, the introduction of the Royal Sword Academy’s participation in the competition kicked the team into high gear.

Now, you sat on the sidelines, watching the team endlessly run the routine over again, clutching your cat/space heater to your chest to fight off frostbite. You severely regretted not talking to Idia more while you shopped for souvenirs and snacked on various apple products.

At least you could admire Idia from afar. You really liked his new braid.

When Epel frantically gathered the team after practice, Grim struggled in your hold. Keeping him still for this long was challenging, and he was getting tired of being cooped up in your arms.

“Let me go, henchman!” Grim grumbled, still squirming. “I’m starving!”

“Just wait- I’ll put you down when we start walking towards town, okay? Besides, you’re warm,”

Grim wiggles again, before finally breaking free. He gives you a smug look before prancing ahead of everyone, and then taking off into a full sprint towards town, yelling about smelling something tasty! Sebek and Jade begin to chase after him. You watch as the scene quickly descends into chaos.

“Ugh! What a mess. Maybe you should keep that thing on a leash,” In his frustration, you hear Epel’s twang, words strongly laced with Southern animosity. You grimace in embarrassment, quickly apologizing for Grim’s behavior. You glance at Idia, who’s staring off in the direction they ran in, completely indifferent to you standing next to him.

Great, you’ve annoyed him into silence.

You’re sulking the entire way back to town, watching Idia from behind while Epel yaps about the competition and the “Welcome Feast,” You’re too busy trying to figure out ways to salvage your “romantic” getaway to listen.

You needed to find time to corner him into a conversation. Of course, you needed to be careful that you weren’t too enthusiastic, or else you would scare him. But you can’t be nonchalant in case you bore him. And you had to be topical, but not too on the nose about the conversation, so mentioning Sled Over Heels seems safe enough-

You run into Idia’s back. You squeak out an apology, moving around him.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,”

“Duh,” He grins, and you feel your body relax (you didn’t even realize you tensed in anticipation… this crush of yours was just terrible) after seeing he wasn’t annoyed. “Off in sla-la land, huh?”

“…Sla-la land?”

“Um, yeah, like, sledding,”

It was neither clever nor funny. It was entirely endearing to you, though.

You go to respond, but you see Grim sneak past your peripheral, and you know scolding him is more important than trying to salvage the conversation with Idia.

-

Once you’ve finally settled on a team name (you can’t help but sulk a bit that no one thought “Granny Felmier” was clever; a product of being from different universes), you join the rest of the town at the Welcome Feast.

It’s lively and warm, and you enjoy stuffing your face with different foods after freezing in the cold. Grim, for once, is behaving himself, giving you time to finally relax without keeping a watchful eye. Luckily, this allows you to think about your approach to Idia. You've noticed he settled into an opposite corner, shrunk down as small as possible. Social settings were antithetical to Idia’s entire demeanor, and it was obvious to anyone who looked in his direction that he was incredibly uncomfortable with the size of the party. You thought about approaching him, the conversation topics from before floating through your mind. Hopefully, he wouldn’t shut down before you even opened your mouth. He emanated an “don’t approach, don’t converse,” aura, brooding in the corner of the room. Maybe you could ask about practice or pretend to devise a strategy for them to use in the real race.

“Hey, Prefect,” Epel taps you on the shoulder. “Do you mind taking a bowl of fruktsoppa Idia? I don’t think he’s moved from that spot since we got here, and besides, I think he likes you best,”

You’ve never been so grateful for Epel in your life.

You grab the bowl and practically prance to Idia, head full from the compliment. He looks up at you, relief flooding his features once he realizes it’s you. Or when he realizes you brought him food. Either way, he looks happy. And pretty. So, so pretty.

“Hey, uh, I brought you some soup,” you say, suddenly feeling awkward. All the confidence you had while approaching him is out the window. “It’s fruit soup. I don’t know how to pronounce it like Epel did.”

“Is it… cold?”

“Soup typically isn’t cold to begin with,” You sit next to him, careful not to spill the bowl on you or him. You set it on the table and begin to shake your hands. “It was burning my fingers actually,”

Despite your warning, he takes a spoonful of fruktsoppa and gulps it down quickly.

“LOL,” you always loved how he pronounced the text-speech. “This is barely lukewarm. But it‘s good, thanks,”

You quickly say something before he gets too comfortable eating in silence.

“So, um,” You try to remember any of the topics you were supposed to talk to him about.

“How are… sports?”

Your question shocks a laugh out of him. He sputters out his soup as he devolves into a series of giggles.

“How are sports? What are you, a stereotypical sitcom nerd? Cri-i-i-inge!”

“Pot meet kettle! You’re only competing because of your favorite anime,”

“Sled Over Heels is a valid reason to compete. It’s the best sports anime to exist! Totally not cringe,”

You shake your head and giggle. It’s very cringey, but you’re charmed by it. You watch him take another bite of the soup, propping your head up in your hand as you stare at him. His coat is perfectly oversized, a welcome change from his usual hoodie. Plus, his hat and new hairdo do wonders for his face; something you barely see. While you poked fun at him for joining the group for an anime, you were happy he was here. You benefitted from it more than he ever knew.

“…I feel like the protagonist of a bizarro weirdo shoujo anime right now.”

“What?” You can’t control your voice. If you weren’t so focused on the surge of embarrassment coursing through your body, you’d notice the boys laughing at your outburst. Instead, you were focused on trying not to look guilty. You were probably failing.

“Look at you! You’re drooling all over the table, like some incel shut-in after he maxed out his love-bar in his otome.” His grin is splitting his face right now.

You cannot believe you're getting bullied by him right now. You cannot believe he’s right.

You can’t think of a clever retort, and you can’t even imagine denying the fact. You just try to avoid his eyes while hoping you’ll get cold enough to get rid of your flush. You’ve been intolerant of the cold the entire trip, but you start to think that if you ran outside without a coat, your body would be so hot that the snow would melt under your feet as you walked. You wonder if you’ve been this obvious the entire time and he was just being polite.

“Lawl, nothing to say because you were caught right? You’ve always been a weirdo,”

Idia starts giggling again, trying to keep his hair out of sight. If you catch the pink in his hair, you’ll find some ammo against him. Right now, he’s relishing someone being more pathetic than him.

It’s okay, he’s charmed by it.

“I guess it takes one to know one,” You mumble, utterly defeated. You chose to ignore his retort; and stand, claiming Grim has been quiet for too long.

At first, Idia thinks nothing of it. It was weird for you to stare at him. Him. But then, his mind began to race.Was there something on his face? Was he just that weird-looking? Were you only hanging out with him out of sympathy? He knew you were out of his league, but he always thought you were into it- at least a little bit. Idia glanced at you, watching you sit with Grim, petting his head absentmindedly while he devoured slice after slice of smörgåstårta. He’d rather not confront what it meant for you to leave so abruptly. Maybe he was wrong about your feelings to begin with. Idia sighs and puts his head in his hands. He would be the person to mess everything up.

-

After embarrassing yourself with Idia the night before, you tried to find solace in the rest of the team. The boys, however, were happy to humble you further.  To be (playfully) bullied by your crush was one thing, but to be the butt of Sebek’s “you’re obsessed” jokes felt extra humiliating (although, you had to extend your thanks to Epel once more, for calling the kettle black). After everything, you wanted the race to come to an uninteresting finish. You weren’t necessarily advocating for them to lose, but you were hoping there would be no more opportunities to be humiliated. However, it seemed they had other plans and showed determination in a way you had never seen before.

Team sports were usually a disaster for Night Raven College students, but now you were convinced they had a genuine chance of winning first place.

Once the team reached the pitstop, you couldn’t help but be excited by their performance. Despite a tear in Sebek’s plushie, they were making exceptional time. You joined Granny Marja in congratulating them; passing out their snacks while she reinforced the stitching on Sebek’s plushie.

A twinge of embarrassment pangs through your stomach as you hand Idia his sandwich, your hands accidentally brushing. You couldn’t even feel his hands through the thick gloves you both were wearing, but it still felt strangely intimate.

“You guys are doing great. I expect you to win, okay?”

“Yeah… thanks,”

You both stand awkwardly for a second.

Your mind is racing, and your heart is beating wildly. The rest of the team is preparing their sleds for the second leg of the competition, but Idia is still standing in front of you, tightly gripping his sandwich like he’s waiting for you to say something. Or like he’s psyching himself to say something to you.

A rogue thought flies through your brain. You should kiss him. No, you probably shouldn’t. You couldn’t. He would be so flustered he’d lose the competition. It was tempting, but you couldn’t.

“Idia!? Are you ready to go?” Epel calls. “We can’t let those RSA punks beat us!”

Idia glances at them and begins to shuffle his feet. He keeps hoping you’ll make the final push. He knows he won’t.

He makes it to his sled and takes one last look at you. You’re still staring at him, air puffing from your lips. Snow speckles your hair, and he swears your eyes are sparkling. You look like a typical shoujo love interest, right before they do something drastic; like confessing their love for the MC before kissing them dramatically.

So, he really should’ve seen this coming.

You bound towards him, and before he can scream at you, you grab his collar and pull him down to your height, pressing your lips to his cheek. It feels like you're kissing him forever, but as soon as he gets used to the feeling, you’re releasing him. He can faintly hear cheering (and polite claps from Jade) but it's like everyone else around him is muffled. You’re telling him something, but he can’t hear you, his ears are ringing too loud. He feels his face burning hotter than his hair, and if he thought the pink tips from yesterday were embarrassing, the hot pink color must be mortifying. He just turns and faces forward, readying his plushie for Epel’s command.

“Go Idia! You have to win this thing!”

Your cheers of encouragement ring out into the air as the team takes off from the pit stop, snow flying wildly in the air as they speed off. You’re waving them off until they disappear from your sight. Your grin is massive as you help Granny Marja pack up the rest of the equipment, ready to meet your team at the finish line. Based on how they took off; you’re hoping your good luck kiss propels them to finish first.

--

“Your kiss was a total party-wide stat debuff; there was no way for us to recover in enough turns to win!”

“Oh, for the love of- shut up!”

[strawberrygummiess]

hello everyone (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

the next fic will be out exclusively on my ao3! i’ve decided to keep my tumblr sfw, but this next fic is a little risqué (no sex but yknow) so you’ll find it there tomorrow evening

please don’t interact with the mature works if you’re under 18! i’m trying to keep a balanced space for my adult and minor readers, so i’m hoping this is a good enough compromise. i will not be linking or otherwise promoting this fic, i’m just letting everyone know in advance where this and other things fics of this nature will go for the future.

also remember i will never age up! so don’t ever ask or expect 1st and 2nd year nsfw stuff

anyways, thanks for reading!

-bea

edit: the fic will not be out until tomorrow morning😭

[strawberrygummiess]

easy.

idia shroud x gender neutral!reader 2.4k words cross posted on ao3 "Now, you sat on the sidelines, watching the team endlessly run the routine over again, clutching your cat/space heater to your chest to fight off frostbite. You severely regretted not talking to Idia more while you shopped for souvenirs and snacked on various apple products. At least you could admire him from afar."

You worked very hard for your relationship with Idia. Slowly but surely getting closer to him by sneakily probing Ortho and Azul out of any information they would give you (of course, in Azul’s case, not without a price). And it had all culminated in a budding friendship where he could barely stand to look you in the eye during a conversation, but he at least was happy to play Blockcraft with youoccasionally.

Baby steps, you supposed.

You knew Idia loved Sled Over Heels before he mentioned it to the group so while you knew his interest was piqued by Epel’s pitch to Sebek, you were pleasantly surprised to see him so excited to see him voluntell (or maybe volundemand was more appropriate) to join Epel on his homecoming trip. It was a win-win for you, seeing a brand-new city and hanging out with your crush at arguably the most romantic time of the year.

It was too bad fate was determined to make your trip to Harveston the most un-romantic, miserable weekend ever. You were here with Epel and his sledding team, freezing your butt off in Harveston. Back in your world, the cold hadn’t bothered you too badly, but the chill in Harveston was unlike anything you had experienced before. Even with the thick coat on, the bite of the winter wind still gave you full-bodied shivers. You had never been so grateful for Grim’s higher-than-average body temperature, gripping him tightly to your chest whenever he misbehaved, or you were just too cold to deal with the outside air. Which, to his dismay, was frequent.

On top of the cold, the competition took up much more of Idia’s free time than you anticipated. You weren’t a stranger to the boys’ competitive streak, having seen them all display it throughout your time at Night Raven College but, the introduction of the Royal Sword Academy’s participation in the competition kicked the team into high gear.

Now, you sat on the sidelines, watching the team endlessly run the routine over again, clutching your cat/space heater to your chest to fight off frostbite. You severely regretted not talking to Idia more while you shopped for souvenirs and snacked on various apple products.

At least you could admire Idia from afar. You really liked his new braid.

When Epel frantically gathered the team after practice, Grim struggled in your hold. Keeping him still for this long was challenging, and he was getting tired of being cooped up in your arms.

“Let me go, henchman!” Grim grumbled, still squirming. “I’m starving!”

“Just wait- I’ll put you down when we start walking towards town, okay? Besides, you’re warm,”

Grim wiggles again, before finally breaking free. He gives you a smug look before prancing ahead of everyone, and then taking off into a full sprint towards town, yelling about smelling something tasty! Sebek and Jade begin to chase after him. You watch as the scene quickly descends into chaos.

“Ugh! What a mess. Maybe you should keep that thing on a leash,” In his frustration, you hear Epel’s twang, words strongly laced with Southern animosity. You grimace in embarrassment, quickly apologizing for Grim’s behavior. You glance at Idia, who’s staring off in the direction they ran in, completely indifferent to you standing next to him.

Great, you’ve annoyed him into silence.

You’re sulking the entire way back to town, watching Idia from behind while Epel yaps about the competition and the “Welcome Feast,” You’re too busy trying to figure out ways to salvage your “romantic” getaway to listen.

You needed to find time to corner him into a conversation. Of course, you needed to be careful that you weren’t too enthusiastic, or else you would scare him. But you can’t be nonchalant in case you bore him. And you had to be topical, but not too on the nose about the conversation, so mentioning Sled Over Heels seems safe enough-

You run into Idia’s back. You squeak out an apology, moving around him.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,”

“Duh,” He grins, and you feel your body relax (you didn’t even realize you tensed in anticipation… this crush of yours was just terrible) after seeing he wasn’t annoyed. “Off in sla-la land, huh?”

“…Sla-la land?”

“Um, yeah, like, sledding,”

It was neither clever nor funny. It was entirely endearing to you, though.

You go to respond, but you see Grim sneak past your peripheral, and you know scolding him is more important than trying to salvage the conversation with Idia.

-

Once you’ve finally settled on a team name (you can’t help but sulk a bit that no one thought “Granny Felmier” was clever; a product of being from different universes), you join the rest of the town at the Welcome Feast.

It’s lively and warm, and you enjoy stuffing your face with different foods after freezing in the cold. Grim, for once, is behaving himself, giving you time to finally relax without keeping a watchful eye. Luckily, this allows you to think about your approach to Idia. You've noticed he settled into an opposite corner, shrunk down as small as possible. Social settings were antithetical to Idia’s entire demeanor, and it was obvious to anyone who looked in his direction that he was incredibly uncomfortable with the size of the party. You thought about approaching him, the conversation topics from before floating through your mind. Hopefully, he wouldn’t shut down before you even opened your mouth. He emanated an “don’t approach, don’t converse,” aura, brooding in the corner of the room. Maybe you could ask about practice or pretend to devise a strategy for them to use in the real race.

“Hey, Prefect,” Epel taps you on the shoulder. “Do you mind taking a bowl of fruktsoppa Idia? I don’t think he’s moved from that spot since we got here, and besides, I think he likes you best,”

You’ve never been so grateful for Epel in your life.

You grab the bowl and practically prance to Idia, head full from the compliment. He looks up at you, relief flooding his features once he realizes it’s you. Or when he realizes you brought him food. Either way, he looks happy. And pretty. So, so pretty.

“Hey, uh, I brought you some soup,” you say, suddenly feeling awkward. All the confidence you had while approaching him is out the window. “It’s fruit soup. I don’t know how to pronounce it like Epel did.”

“Is it… cold?”

“Soup typically isn’t cold to begin with,” You sit next to him, careful not to spill the bowl on you or him. You set it on the table and begin to shake your hands. “It was burning my fingers actually,”

Despite your warning, he takes a spoonful of fruktsoppa and gulps it down quickly.

“LOL,” you always loved how he pronounced the text-speech. “This is barely lukewarm. But it‘s good, thanks,”

You quickly say something before he gets too comfortable eating in silence.

“So, um,” You try to remember any of the topics you were supposed to talk to him about.

“How are… sports?”

Your question shocks a laugh out of him. He sputters out his soup as he devolves into a series of giggles.

“How are sports? What are you, a stereotypical sitcom nerd? Cri-i-i-inge!”

“Pot meet kettle! You’re only competing because of your favorite anime,”

“Sled Over Heels is a valid reason to compete. It’s the best sports anime to exist! Totally not cringe,”

You shake your head and giggle. It’s very cringey, but you’re charmed by it. You watch him take another bite of the soup, propping your head up in your hand as you stare at him. His coat is perfectly oversized, a welcome change from his usual hoodie. Plus, his hat and new hairdo do wonders for his face; something you barely see. While you poked fun at him for joining the group for an anime, you were happy he was here. You benefitted from it more than he ever knew.

“…I feel like the protagonist of a bizarro weirdo shoujo anime right now.”

“What?” You can’t control your voice. If you weren’t so focused on the surge of embarrassment coursing through your body, you’d notice the boys laughing at your outburst. Instead, you were focused on trying not to look guilty. You were probably failing.

“Look at you! You’re drooling all over the table, like some incel shut-in after he maxed out his love-bar in his otome.” His grin is splitting his face right now.

You cannot believe you're getting bullied by him right now. You cannot believe he’s right.

You can’t think of a clever retort, and you can’t even imagine denying the fact. You just try to avoid his eyes while hoping you’ll get cold enough to get rid of your flush. You’ve been intolerant of the cold the entire trip, but you start to think that if you ran outside without a coat, your body would be so hot that the snow would melt under your feet as you walked. You wonder if you’ve been this obvious the entire time and he was just being polite.

“Lawl, nothing to say because you were caught right? You’ve always been a weirdo,”

Idia starts giggling again, trying to keep his hair out of sight. If you catch the pink in his hair, you’ll find some ammo against him. Right now, he’s relishing someone being more pathetic than him.

It’s okay, he’s charmed by it.

“I guess it takes one to know one,” You mumble, utterly defeated. You chose to ignore his retort; and stand, claiming Grim has been quiet for too long.

At first, Idia thinks nothing of it. It was weird for you to stare at him. Him. But then, his mind began to race.Was there something on his face? Was he just that weird-looking? Were you only hanging out with him out of sympathy? He knew you were out of his league, but he always thought you were into it- at least a little bit. Idia glanced at you, watching you sit with Grim, petting his head absentmindedly while he devoured slice after slice of smörgåstårta. He’d rather not confront what it meant for you to leave so abruptly. Maybe he was wrong about your feelings to begin with. Idia sighs and puts his head in his hands. He would be the person to mess everything up.

-

After embarrassing yourself with Idia the night before, you tried to find solace in the rest of the team. The boys, however, were happy to humble you further.  To be (playfully) bullied by your crush was one thing, but to be the butt of Sebek’s “you’re obsessed” jokes felt extra humiliating (although, you had to extend your thanks to Epel once more, for calling the kettle black). After everything, you wanted the race to come to an uninteresting finish. You weren’t necessarily advocating for them to lose, but you were hoping there would be no more opportunities to be humiliated. However, it seemed they had other plans and showed determination in a way you had never seen before.

Team sports were usually a disaster for Night Raven College students, but now you were convinced they had a genuine chance of winning first place.

Once the team reached the pitstop, you couldn’t help but be excited by their performance. Despite a tear in Sebek’s plushie, they were making exceptional time. You joined Granny Marja in congratulating them; passing out their snacks while she reinforced the stitching on Sebek’s plushie.

A twinge of embarrassment pangs through your stomach as you hand Idia his sandwich, your hands accidentally brushing. You couldn’t even feel his hands through the thick gloves you both were wearing, but it still felt strangely intimate.

“You guys are doing great. I expect you to win, okay?”

“Yeah… thanks,”

You both stand awkwardly for a second.

Your mind is racing, and your heart is beating wildly. The rest of the team is preparing their sleds for the second leg of the competition, but Idia is still standing in front of you, tightly gripping his sandwich like he’s waiting for you to say something. Or like he’s psyching himself to say something to you.

A rogue thought flies through your brain. You should kiss him. No, you probably shouldn’t. You couldn’t. He would be so flustered he’d lose the competition. It was tempting, but you couldn’t.

“Idia!? Are you ready to go?” Epel calls. “We can’t let those RSA punks beat us!”

Idia glances at them and begins to shuffle his feet. He keeps hoping you’ll make the final push. He knows he won’t.

He makes it to his sled and takes one last look at you. You’re still staring at him, air puffing from your lips. Snow speckles your hair, and he swears your eyes are sparkling. You look like a typical shoujo love interest, right before they do something drastic; like confessing their love for the MC before kissing them dramatically.

So, he really should’ve seen this coming.

You bound towards him, and before he can scream at you, you grab his collar and pull him down to your height, pressing your lips to his cheek. It feels like you're kissing him forever, but as soon as he gets used to the feeling, you’re releasing him. He can faintly hear cheering (and polite claps from Jade) but it's like everyone else around him is muffled. You’re telling him something, but he can’t hear you, his ears are ringing too loud. He feels his face burning hotter than his hair, and if he thought the pink tips from yesterday were embarrassing, the hot pink color must be mortifying. He just turns and faces forward, readying his plushie for Epel’s command.

“Go Idia! You have to win this thing!”

Your cheers of encouragement ring out into the air as the team takes off from the pit stop, snow flying wildly in the air as they speed off. You’re waving them off until they disappear from your sight. Your grin is massive as you help Granny Marja pack up the rest of the equipment, ready to meet your team at the finish line. Based on how they took off; you’re hoping your good luck kiss propels them to finish first.

--

“Your kiss was a total party-wide stat debuff; there was no way for us to recover in enough turns to win!”

“Oh, for the love of- shut up!”

[strawberrygummiess]

OMG HIII!!! I JUST CAME OVER FROM READING YOUR AZUL FIC AND I JUST ADORE THE WAY YOU WRITE!!!!! (surprised to find another twst fic writer my age lolol)

if it's not too much trouble, could i request an established relationship Jade x male!reader fic? (literally anything fluffy would do please and thank you! best picks would be them doing club activities together or being a cutesy domestic couple) <3

hi anon! it's been posted here!

hope you enjoy <3

[strawberrygummiess]

velvet ring.

Jade Leech x Male!reader

"if it's not too much trouble, could i request an established relationship Jade x male!reader fic? (literally anything fluffy would do please and thank you! best picks would be them doing club activities together or being a cutesy domestic couple) <3" 1.3k words cross posted on ao3

The trails outside of Night Raven College were beautiful.

  The entire hiking trip with Jade had been nothing but breathtaking. Your hike with Jade had been mostly quiet, both of you taking in the tranquil sights. You didn’t mind the silence, however. You loved seeing your boyfriend happy; watching him grin unabashedly at the different fungi you encountered, basking in the sun rays like a cat, and enjoying your company with a tight grasp on your hand. It differed from his usual polite demeanor; your heart swelled at the thought of making him this excited.

However, you were nearing your limit.

    You were initially delighted to join Jade on The Mountain Lover Club’s first group expedition (if you and Jade counted as a group) to find a particularly rare mushroom. But now that you were five miles in, with no sign of turning back anytime soon, it seemed you were a little ambitious about how much hiking you could handle.

      The weather was gorgeous, your boyfriend was excited, but your feet were screaming in agony.

       Your shoes were definitely not designed for hikes of this nature (or much at all, with the holes in the netting and the developing hole in the sole of your left shoe) and you could feel the blisters developing on your heels. It made finishing the hike feel impossible. Though, you would never voice this thought out loud. You’re too busy indulging in the pure joy Jade was experiencing on the hike with you. You had no intention of bursting his bubble any time soon.

        Most of the trail had been shrouded in greenery and trees. While the trees were beautiful, when the forest opened into a flowery clearing, you were simply in awe. The scene was picturesque; the sun shone on the field, basking the flowers in rays of sunlight that mimicked a painting. The flowers were vibrant purples and pinks, swaying slightly in the calm gusts of wind. How anyone could avoid this club was beyond you.

        “This is so beautiful! Look at all the flowers,”

       “Ah, it reminds me of Ramshackle,”

“How so?”

        Jade hums and gives you a cheeky grin.

      “Well, it reminds me of the holes in the floor, of course,”

       It suddenly became very apparent why students avoided the Mountain Lovers Club.

        You sigh, annoyed, and playfully push Jade with a scolding look. He begins to laugh at the sorry state of your living conditions while you move off the trail to venture into the clearing. The grass is so green and plush, that it almost looks fake. You’re tempted to lie down to test your theory. And to give your poor feet a break.

      Your temptations win out and you dramatically fall into the grass, relief immediately flooding your body as you relax. You stretch out your limbs and settle on your back, arms resting on your chest. Jade watches, utterly bemused at your behavior.

     He knew a couple miles back that you were ready to turn around but stuck around for his sake. You were sweet- too sweet for him, but that’s why he loves you. There was no room for guessing, no subtlety in your love. You were upfront with your affection; it was utterly foreign and intoxicating to Jade, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

    Of you.

    You watch Jade as he strides over to you, an audacious grin still on his face. He stands over you, blocking the sunlight from hitting your face as he peers down at your relaxed face. When you match his grin, he feels his heart flutter in his chest.

    He was so utterly enamored with his boyfriend.

   “Oh dear, Prefect, is something the matter?”

“Nothing now that I get to look at you,”

    You stare up at your boyfriend with a smile. Since lying in the grass, your body has relaxed completely. The burn of developing blisters still lingered on the soles of your feet, but despite that, you were completely comfortable in your bed of flowers. You pat the space next to you.

  “Come lay down with me, I’m declaring this our resting point,”

  “Is that so? We had quite a bit left to go, my dear,”

   You can’t help the grimace that spreads across your face. You weren’t even sure you could walk back from here. Let alone continue for an unknown number of miles ahead.

    Jade, of course, was just messing with you; testing your patience. There were plenty more miles left on the trail, but he wasn’t planning on making you go further. And based on your face, he assumed you were close to begging him to stop. He wondered if he could get you to that point, or if he’d find himself succumbing to your pitiful face. Decisions, decisions.

   “Jade,” you draw out the “a” in a whine. “C’mon sit with me at least,”

    When he sits, he realizes he has no power over you. You are the puppeteer, pulling him along by the heartstrings. You are full of pleasant surprises. He leans back into the grass alongside you, and you both enjoy the serene sounds of nature.

    “I do believe you’re just stalling, Prefect,”

   “I have no idea what you’re talking about,”

    He chuckles.

    “Your feet hurt, dear,”

    “Ah,” You should have known he would’ve noticed. “Maybe a little…?”

   You give him a sheepish look as you twiddle your fingers together. You were slightly embarrassed by how easily Jade read you. He probably knew you were tired a while ago.

  “I didn’t want to ruin your day. We didn’t even finish the hike, let alone get closer to finding that mushroom of yours,”

  “Nonsense, my day was made when you came with me,”

  Jade turned his head to face you. Sure, he would’ve loved to find that mushroom with you. But he also loved to spend time with you. If you need to get used to hiking, he would be happy to spend every second training with you.

  You smile gently at him. He was so charming; it was why you fell for him initially. You shuffle your body closer to him until your shoulders touch. You desperately want to kiss him; maybe as a thank you, mostly for the selfish reason of wanting to kiss your boyfriend. Jade leans forward for you, pressing his lips to yours in a brisk peck. It wasn’t nearly enough for you.

   As he pulls away you lean into him- greedily chasing his lips. He grins into the kiss; either in a laugh towards you or because he’s happy, you can’t tell. This kiss is more passionate than the last, the two of you are perfectly content with kissing in the grass, hiking, and aching feet long forgotten. When you pull away, you’re out of breath and flushed.

   “Oh my, it seems my boyfriend is feeling a bit insatiable,”

   “Can you blame me?” You cup Jade’s face in your hands, squeezing his cheeks, and coo, “Look at this kissable face,”

    To prove your point, you press one last chaste kiss to the tip of his nose before releasing him and sitting up.

    “I guess we should… head back?” you ask hesitantly.

    Jade hums in agreement and stands up. He dusts off his pants, before extending a hand to you and hoisting you to your feet.

   Your extremely blistered feet.

   You wince in pain as you put pressure on your soles. You suddenly realized that you would have to walk another five miles back to campus and felt the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of adding any more pain to your feet.

   “Jade,” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Is there any way you could carry me back to campus, my love?”

   “Oh, absolutely not, my dear,”

With that, he turns and walks towards campus. You groan (and wipe away a stray tear) and hurry to join him. He’s lucky you loved him so much, or else you’d quit the club right then and there and stay in the clearing until you died. You were only half a mile in before he hoisted you on his back and manhandled you back to campus.

   Maybe you were the lucky one instead.

[strawberrygummiess]

when you know you know.

Trey Clover x Gender Neutral!Reader 1.3k words cross posted on ao3 "One of the things Trey loved about you was your stubbornness. You were a tough cookie: no one could push you around. He bore witness to that when you combated Riddle’s overblot. And then Leona’s. It was clear to everyone that you meant business; he admired that about you. Lord knew it was something he needed to work on. But now that stubbornness led to this disaster you called muffins."

Trey never thought he’d marry anyone in his life.

It's not that he didn’t want to get married. But he barely had time to date, between trying to control Hearyslabyul chaos and running his parents’ bakery at home. By the time he had a break, all he wanted to do was be alone. He had long accepted that he would never date anyone, let alone get married.

That was until he met you.

It wasn’t love at first sight; Trey isn’t naïve. He always felt drawn to you. Your relationship always felt right. It’s like he knew when he met you. You had similar interests, and even when you didn’t align, he was inclined to believe “opposites attract”.

So, where you were horrible in the kitchen, he was there to help you. Or try to, at least.

One of the things Trey loved about you was your stubbornness. You were a tough cookie: no one could push you around. He bore witness to that when you combated Riddle’s overblot. And then Leona’s. It was clear to everyone that you meant business; he admired that about you. Lord knew it was something he needed to work on.

But now that stubbornness led to this disaster you called muffins. And no one could say you weren’t trying. And Trey had to respect that, at least. Because there was nothing else respectable about what you were doing in this kitchen. You were a step above Lilia. You could at least cook; he’d give you that.

But bake? Trey was seconds away from a panic attack baking with you.

First, the kitchen was a disaster. Ingredients strewn about, station messy, you not much better. The recipe book was forgotten underneath a pile of stray flour, baking powder, cinnamon, and everything else you’ve accidentally spilled while transferring ingredients into your mixing bowls.

Second, you were (and he meant this in the absolute, most loving way possible-) horrendous. Your baking skills were elementary at best; he wouldn’t mind if you followed the recipe. But you insisted on experimenting and learning on your own.

“I’ve always wanted to be good at baking, I’ve just never had the time or money to practice. This is like a divine intervention,” you said to him once.

More like a bad omen.

Trey had long given up on trying to intervene. Trying to tell you what to do was like pulling teeth. Instead, he stood in the doorway, watching you run around the kitchen trying to create a semblance of a muffin recipe. His fingers twitched every time you chopped your apples haphazardly, wanting to push you out of the way so you didn’t hurt yourself.

The oven dinged! as it finished preheating.

You quickly added your apples into your muffin mixture and frantically began trying to fill your muffin tins. You weren’t originally intending to make “apple pie” muffins, but as you were mixing your maple batter your mind began to wander and experiment. And now your muffins would be less of a quick breakfast and more of a sugary dessert. Oh well, you could always try again later.

You sprinkle your maple crumble on the top of each muffin and shove the tin into the oven. After setting the timer you finally start to relax. You let out a sigh and lean against the messy counter and cast a look at Trey.

You had forced him to stand in time-out after you got too frustrated by his anxious hovering. Now he was staring at you with a nervous grin, happy to see you were finished making a mess of his kitchen.

“The hard part is done- you ready to help me with the dishes?”

“Oh no. This- “ he gestured to the destruction around the room. “Is your mess. I am not helping you clean up, Prefect.” He sounded playful as he scolded you, but you knew there was some truth in his words. He did not want to clean.

“Aw, c’mon, it’ll be more fun than standing in time-out!” You quickly grab his arm, scraping your hand across the counter and sending a cloud of flour into the air.

“This is terrible, you might make more messes than Grim,”

“We’re two halves a whole idiot!”

He chuckled at your joke, shaking his head and rolling his sleeves to prepare to clean the kitchen. As much as he didn’t want to help you, Riddle would freak at the sight of the mess. You smiled in victory before joining him at the sink. The countertops could wait.

The pile of dishes quickly shrank as you both worked in tandem to clean them. Trey mostly listened to you dominate the conversation- your project in Crewel’s class, Ace and Deuce’s daily shenanigans, and the excitement of finally having a “sweet treat” at the end of the day.

He could listen to you ramble forever; he thinks.

“Done~!” You say in a sing-song voice, happily drying the last dish and grinning at him.

“Thanks, Trey. I was joking about helping me, y’know,”

“I would’ve helped you regardless,”

“I know, you big softie,”

You lightly knock his shoulder with your own. You can’t help but linger against him for a bit longer than you should’ve. You hope he doesn’t notice.

(He noticed.)

You try to play off your longing, quickly turning around to face the rest of the kitchen. As you do, you remember the rest of the kitchen is in horrific disrepair, and you groan in annoyance. You had to get better at not spilling.

“How do you avoid making messes?” You asked, putting your hands on your head. You were already exhausted. The timer dinged! and you charged over to the oven, hoping to avoid as much countertop scrubbing as possible.

“It helps to follow your recipe, for starters,”

“This is an unrelated criticism,”

You pull the muffins out of the oven and grin. They’re lumpy and uneven, and certain muffins have a burnt crumble topping them. And yet, they’re the best-looking bake you’ve had in a while. Trey grimaces when you aren’t looking.

As they cool, you and Trey clean the rest of the kitchen. You prompt him to talk about himself for a bit before a lull in the conversation puts you two in a comfortable silence. You sneak glances at him, watching him meticulously clean the oven surface while you scrub the countertops. He’s just so careful: delicately removing the burner tops to clean the crumbs that spilled underneath. You never noticed how messy you are.

“Sorry. You’re doing a lot over there.”

“It’s fine, crumbs get under here all the time. I’m sure some of these aren’t even yours.”

“Let me make it up to you,” You grin mischievously, coming up beside him with a teasing look and your hands behind your back.

“You get the honor of tasting these first. Now close your eyes and say ‘ahh!’”

As he closes his eyes you think about pressing your lips on his.

Next time.

Trey waits until you gently push the top of the muffin to his mouth before taking a bite. They’re sickeningly sweet, the mix of brown and white sugar plus maple syrup is overpowering on his tongue. The crumble is over-baked and crunchy, feeling more like a crouton than a nice texture contrast. And while he was sure he saw you add the apples, he suspected you failed to add flour to keep them even though the batter- he tasted none in his few bites. The muffins themselves had a thick gummy texture- over-mixed and dense.

They were horrible, but when he opened his eyes and saw you beaming at him with an expectant look, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything bad about them.

“It’s very sweet. I like the maple syrup. It tastes like a spice cake.”

Your grin grows impossibly wide, and you take a bite of the same muffin. You seem to enjoy it and you hum contently.

Trey thinks about the next time he’ll bake with you. Maybe he can sneak a helping hand in and make something edible. Or maybe he’ll have to keep baking with you until you get better. He was happy to spend as much time with you as needed.

[strawberrygummiess]

hello everyone!!

sorry for disappearing for a week, i've been prepping fics for the queue because my job is about to be hellish for the next few months ;-; i am trying to get my requests finished (they will remain open for the time being) as well. they will be apart of the queue so if i forget to respond to the ask i'm sorry in advance ;,-,;.

anyways, i'm looking forward to sharing a few fics in the coming days! that trey fic should finally be out by friday, lolol.

thanks for reading, see y'all soon!

-bea

[strawberrygummiess]

Can I request Azul x reader where after a trip into town the reader is begging Azul for a few shifts at the most to lounge? Turns out in a little shop they found what looks to be a replica of their mom’s wedding ring and they miss their parents so much. Who cares if it’s not real gold or fake diamonds? It looks like home and they’re willing to slave just to get it. Azul can’t turn away tears now can he?

hey anon! i've posted the fic here!

this was a really fun request, so much fun i wrote 4.6k words lol.

hope you enjoy!

[strawberrygummiess]

anemone.

azul ashengrotto x gender neutral! reader 4.6k words cross posted on ao3 "Can I request Azul x reader where after a trip into town the reader is begging Azul for a few shifts at the most to lounge? Turns out in a little shop they found what looks to be a replica of their mom’s wedding ring and they miss their parents so much. Who cares if it’s not real gold or fake diamonds? It looks like home and they’re willing to slave just to get it. Azul can’t turn away tears now can he?"

Everyone knew you were short on money.

You had become one of the most notorious penny pinchers on campus, although, it wasn’t your fault.  Crowley’s “generosity” could only take you so far before you had to be creative. Brand new, dubious tuna-based dishes; impractical fixes for your household wares; sewing and resewing every hole in your uniform; and of course, finding jobs anywhere they’d take you.

This was easier said than done, of course. As much as you’d love to go into town and find a stable part-time job, you could only get so far into the application process before it became very apparent that you were not from this world. And you suspected that an unknown person coming in and out of Night Raven College gates with zero records of their existence was not a scandal that Crowley (or you, for that matter) was equipped to handle. Not that anyone would let you starve to death, you had more food-related gifts than you could handle. It made you grateful for Grim’s never-ending stomach. The food was nice, but it wasn’t everything. What you really needed was a steady income.

If you can’t get a job in town, you would have to get the next best thing: The Mostro Lounge. The students who worked there always bragged about the pretty paychecks they earned every two weeks. Who cared that they looked ragged every day? You needed that money.

And that’s why you were here, deep in Octavinelle dorm, begging Azul for a position at the Mostro Lounge. You needed money. Your dorm was falling apart. Your clothes had holes in them. You were just so tired of eating tuna. Anything to garner some sympathy.

He didn’t need to know the real reason. That you’ve been eyeing up in the jewelry shop in town. That you were desperate to buy a ring that looked eerily similar to your mother’s wedding ring. That you were grasping for any reminder of your home. Because that would be embarrassing. And a prime opportunity to get manipulated by Azul. And you had already done that song and dance.

So now, here you were, nervously bouncing your leg while you waited for his response. He seemed to be mulling the idea over, seemingly thinking of a way to trick you into getting the short end of the stick. He hummed an unrecognizable tune while he filed through his contracts, finishing the task he started before you arrived, occasionally peering over his glasses to look at you. You were undeniably anxious, fidgety, and uncomfortable: the prime emotional state to agree to a dodgy deal.

“Now Prefect, do calm down,” Azul mused, placing his chin in his hand after he finished his sorting. He watched as you settled your leg and gave him a tense smile. Despite his confident demeanor, he knew he had to tread carefully here. You were a delicate case.

On the one hand, you were smart. You had already bested him once before, and he knew you were entirely capable of doing it again. You also wouldn’t sign any old contract, even with this out-of-character desperation. On the other hand, Azul couldn’t say he’d seen this level of distress from you before. Especially about your “money problems”.

As smart as you were, he was no fool. Something was up. He just didn’t know what.

“I understand you’re looking for a part-time serving job. The Mostro Lounge is always looking for new talent, however- “

“It’s crucial that I get this job.”

Azul tsks at your interruption before leaning back in his chair. You can see it on his face. Annoyance, frustration. A hint of confusion if you knew what to look for. Nothing pleasant. The smile on his face didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed slightly. Less patient.

“Now, now Prefect, I know your work ethic. I am not against hiring you per se. I just ask for a little… transparency amongst my employees. I’m a fair and equitable boss, I only want to help you.”

Your leg began to bounce again.

“C’mon Azul, you remember what Ramshackle was like. It hasn’t gotten much better. And look- “You hold up your arm to reveal the miserable patch you scrapped together with what remained of your curtains. Your blazer had more mismatched patches than linen at this point.

“Your clothes are ruined, and you’re looking to eat something a bit different this week, yes, yes, I know this one.” Azul finishes. His stare is pointed. “However, this is how it’s always been. And never have I seen you so desperate to pick up shifts. Is there something going on? You know I can help you without sending you to work.”

Fat chance. You know his game. You’d allow him to “help” you and then be stuck as an errand boy indefinitely. You were already Crowley’s servant. You weren’t too keen to be someone else’s. You gingerly lower your arm and take a moment to decide on your answer. The whole truth was out of the question, of course, but you could afford to tell him a little bit. Just enough to get him off your case.

“It’s nothing you don’t already know about, like you said. I’m just… tired of living this way. It’d be nice to have extra cash, so I don’t have to complain constantly. That’s all.” You settle. It wasn’t a lie. You needed extra cash anyway. You were just going to use it for a non-essential.

Well, a non-essential to everyone else.

Azul hums in approval before swiveling his chair around to the filing cabinet behind him. He riles through files of paperwork before grabbing a thick stack of papers. At this point, he knows he isn’t getting any more information out of you. If this was the game you were going to play, he would win by your rules. Azul lets out a soft “ah” as he finds what he’s looking for. He turns back around, and with a snap of his fingers, the filing cabinet closes with a loud clink. He sets the stack of papers down on his desk before opening another drawer. You take the opportunity to read the cover. Mostro Lounge Employee Handbook.  

 “That is yours to keep. It has all the information you need about our company, code of conduct; policy and procedures- do study those thoroughly-; and workers’ rights,” Azul begins to flip through the booklet before landing on a section towards the end.

“And this is your acknowledgment that you’ve read the handbook. When you finish reading through it, sign here and tear the page from the booklet.”

You grab the booklet from his desk, flipping through the pages quickly. It would take you at least an hour to read through it, let alone study. You land on the Policy and Procedures page and glance at the text written on it. You notice the usual statements, Attendance, Safety, and Security. Each statement had a lengthy explanation of the expectations and appropriate procedures for employees to follow. Each statement ended with a bold statement: No exceptions.

Before you can speak again, Azul hands you another set of papers.

“Here are some other official documents I will need you to sign. Onboarding processes usually involve tax forms and such but considering your unique situation we will have to create a new form for you. As for payment, as you have no bank account, it’ll be in cash.”

You thumb through the additional papers. One is an agreement of payment. The other is a form about uniforms and sizing. There is a rundown of waiter etiquette, the type of service, and a menu. Azul hands you a pen, gesturing to the payment agreement form. You quickly scan the page, looking for nefarious fine print, but ultimately decide it is safe. And you’re happy to see the high pay rate. Working for at least two weeks, plus any tips you could earn, you’re sure you’ll get that ring in no time. You sign your name eagerly. Azul quickly takes the paper and pen from your hands and grins.

“Please return the uniform slip to me by tomorrow so I can get your uniform fitted as soon as possible. I will also need you to sign the other acknowledgment papers and return those before your first day. Once your uniform is ready, you can begin working with us. Do study that menu, I need it memorized before your first day. You will shadow Jade and Floyd. Do you have any questions for me currently?”

Azul was flashing a charming smile at you. His previous look of annoyance is long gone, now replaced with a confident and relaxed gaze. You were slightly overwhelmed but matched his smile.

“Nothing I can’t text you about later, right?”

“Of course. We look forward to working with you, Prefect.”

He rises from his chair and extends a hand. You stand, shake his hand, and bid Azul farewell, carefully securing your stack of papers against your chest. The easy part was finished. Now you had to survive the hard part.

-

By the time you return to your dorm, it’s late. Grim is sitting on your kitchen counter, tail flipping in annoyance. His eyes are squeezed shut, but you know he’s awake and aware of your presence.

“All that time spent in Octavinelle and you didn’t bring any food home?” he grumbles but he happily leans into your scratches as you search for a can of tuna. His eyes open and scans the stack of papers on the counter.

“Since when did you work at the Mostro Lounge?”

“Since today.” You respond, removing your hand and opening the can. Grim follows your hands, walking in front of the can to chase your pets. You swat his head away. For a creature that claims not to be a cat, he sure acted like one.

“Are you gonna start bringing fancy food home? I want steak every day.”

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to bring steak home ever.” You laugh, emptying the tuna can into a bowl and setting it aside. You take the opportunity to look at the formidable pile of documents and sigh. You supposed you’d have to get started on memorizing sooner rather than later.

It was worth it for the ring.

-

A week passed before you were able to officially start your first day. It was an agonizing wait for you. You compulsively went to the jewelry shop the day before your start date to check that the ring was still there. Still on display, the modest ring sat among the other fancy bands. You had seen others beside it come and go, but the silver ring stayed put for nearly a month. You had never been so thankful for your mother’s practicality.

350 madols. You’d get that in two weeks if you were diligent.

On your first day, you were early. Several hours early. You entered Mostro Lounge, still crisp uniform feeling foreign on your skin. Even back home, you had never worn anything this fancy. You tentatively looked around the dark room and took in the sight of the restaurant. You had never seen it so empty. You almost felt like you were trespassing.

“Woaaah Shrimpy even beat us! Guess they’re serious!” You heard Floyd before you felt him. He grasped your shoulder while he moved in front of you. He was wearing the same uniform as you, although slightly more unkempt. While Azul’s policies had stated there were “no exceptions” to the uniform expectations, you figured Floyd couldn’t be contained by such rules.

“Well, that’s good to see. Not many new hires are this passionate about the business,” Jade strides to the other side of Floyd with a polite smile on his face. “You’re aware of the shadowing process, correct?”

“In theory,” you say, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You’ve always been slightly intimidated by the twins. “Floyd is a server and you’re on expo… I doubt I’ll be spending much time with you, though.”

Jade grins at your knowledge. “No, not while I’m doing that. But I also double as floor manager when Azul is out. That’s when you’ll be under my watch. I’m impressed. Azul told me you’re serving experience was limited.”

You bite back your comment about using the internet to look up your questions. Compliments are nice. And you didn’t want to feel any more over your head than you already did. Expeditors were for fancy restaurants. You had never seen one in your old jobs.

“So, because today is a Saturday, we’re open earlier. The chefs will be comin’ in soon to start prepping and making family, and then we’ll be ready to open. It's great that you’re here so early though. Now I can show you everything without people being in my way.” Floyd explains, guiding you through the dining area with your shoulder.

“This is the floor; you’ll primarily be working here. You’re gonna be serving with me, bussing tables, and running food.” Floyd kicks the doors open to the kitchen.

“This is the kitchen, Jade’s territory. That’s the walk-in, that’s the chef area, cleaning station, blah blah blah, you won’t really need anything back here unless you do.”

You decide not to comment on the “unless you do” bit and hope that it means it’s above your pay grade. So far it doesn’t seem too bad. Although there aren’t any guests yet.

“This is your locker; you can put your… nothing here. Yikes. Things that bad at home, Shrimpy?”

“I can always bring Grim if that makes me look less sad.” You joke, glancing around before following Floyd out of the locker area. He shows you Azul’s office, where you quickly drop off your remaining paperwork, the break area, and the storage area. By the time you’ve finished your tour, other employees have already filed in and begun their side work.

“And that brings you to the end of Floyd’s restaurant tour! I deserve a 5-star rating, right Shrimpy?” He grins, leaning down to your height to flash his teeth at you. “Go ahead and start rolling silverware, I’ll come to get you before family.”

Floyd leaves and you join the other servers, chatting politely while you prepare for service to start. You take a deep breath and try to steady your heart. You have to focus and keep your eyes on the prize.

-

Family was deceptively calm and quiet. Service was hell.

The few times you had dined in Mostro Lounge had been nearly perfect. The servers were attentive, the food delicious, and the atmosphere tranquil. It had been a while since you had worked in food service, but even your limited experience in a family-owned diner couldn’t prepare you for just how intensely Azul ran the Lounge.

The shift from front of house to back of house was like night and day. The second you entered the kitchen you could hear screams for “Hands!” and “Service!”. You constantly messed up dishes- bringing the wrong plates to the wrong tables, bringing them too early or late much to Jade’s annoyance, forgetting the menu out of stress, and the amount of chastising you were hearing for letting dishes die was agonizing. You had even crashed into a dishwasher after forgetting to announce “Behind!” breaking several dishes.

This was only your first day.

Floyd quickly told you to take five in the locker room while several students cleaned the mess you made. You quickly sat on the bench and placed your head in your hands. This was an utter disaster. You let out a miserable groan, pulling your knees to your chest. You couldn’t imagine what Azul would make of your performance. You were hoping for some sympathy, but after all the trouble you made, you wouldn’t keep an employee like you around either.

“Prefect.”

Azul’s harsh tone made you quickly regain your composure. You grimaced as you looked up at him from your seat, placing your legs back on the floor.

“I’m really sorry. It was more than I expected, I should’ve asked more questions… I can pay for the dishes, just take it out of my paycheck, I just really need this job- “

Azul put his hands up to stop you. You’re glad he did. You could feel your throat tightening as you explained yourself. You didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“Dishes can be fixed with magic. What can’t be fixed is the experiences the patrons had today.” Azul states. He opens his mouth to say something else before hesitating. You look utterly miserable. Tired, stressed, and anxious. Usually, this many mistakes in one day would warrant termination, but you’re a special case.

“…Clearly, service is a bit much for you. Tomorrow morning, I am heading into town for the farmer’s market. You will join me. Meet me in the Lounge, 6 AM sharp. Do not be late.”

Azul turns sharply and leaves the room. You breathe a sigh of relief before leaning back against the lockers. You only had a couple more hours of your shift. That was plenty of time to get at least one table right. You resigned yourself to doing the best you can before joining everyone back in the kitchen.

-

The next morning you are utterly exhausted. You were chewed up more times than you could count, and the quick turnaround from the previous workday to this morning left you with only a few hours of sleep. You were sure you looked ragged as you walked into the Mostro Lounge.

Floyd and Jade were already there, Floyd half asleep, and Jade fixing centerpieces. Jade glances at you and raises his brow.

“Oh? I figured you would’ve been fired last night.”

The harsh words made you wince, but you nodded in understanding. You did too.

“Yeah Shrimpy,” Floyd yawned. “You messed up big time yesterday. Never seen someone so bad at this.”

You pursed your lips. You were getting less understanding.

“I’m not joining you in service today,” Your brow twitched in annoyance at the sound of Floyd’s Thank God! “I’m joining Azul in town today. Picking up ingredients with him, I think.”

Floyd and Jade exchanged a look before they let out a series of giggles. Floyd’s giggles turn into a cackle that fills the room. You had never felt so much anxiety in your life. Think of the ring. Think of your mom.

“Is there something funny, Floyd?”

Azul asks as he enters the room, exactly on time. You’ve never been so excited to see him before, but if you had learned anything from NRC, it was that you did not enjoy the Twins’ company. Floyd responds to Azul with a cheeky Wouldn’t you like to know? making him scoff. Azul glances around the room, finally spotting you. He seems pleasantly surprised to see you there so early, almost expecting you to be late, or not even bother to show at all. You truly were dedicated to the paycheck. Azul couldn’t help but admire your devotion.

Jade strode over to Azul with a smile, handing him a piece of paper. Azul sighed, read over the note, and gave Jade an annoyed look before stuffing the list in his pocket.

“The Mostro Lounge does not require fifteen new types of mushrooms, Jade. Come now Prefect, otherwise, we’ll be late to the market.” Azul links your arm with his and begins leading you toward the door, and you hear Floyd’s cackles fill the air again.

The walk to town is mostly quiet. You don’t have much to say, and you’re admittedly too tired to wrack your brain for conversation points. You sneak glances at Azul’s profile as you walk, wondering what’s going on in his head.

What was so special about you that he kept you around? What did he want from you that he couldn’t get from anyone else?

“Is there something the matter, Prefect? It’s impolite to stare.”

Azul glances at you with a smile. You furrow your brows.

“Why didn’t you fire me?”

He chuckles.

“Well, I thought you needed a job. I’m helping you, like you asked.”

He leaves it as that once you approach the market. You don’t need to know how much he enjoys your presence, even when you’re messing everything up. You also don’t need to know that Jade and the head chef are usually the ones making the farmer’s market trips. If you were going to withhold information from him, it was only fair to do the same to you.

 The time spent shopping is pleasant. The tension fades away the longer you two are shopping together, and you find yourself listening to his explanations of the dishes he serves, and why the restaurant is run the way it is. You’re impressed by how much he’s accomplished at such a young age. Every time he mentions his mother’s restaurant, you can’t help but smile.

As you’re finishing up, you happen to glance around, realizing the jewelry shop is on this street. You look at Azul, who is still conversing with a vendor and begin to inch away towards the shop. You’d just take a look at the ring again, and quickly go back to Azul and leave. Simple.

You enter the shop and greet the shopkeeper, who at this point knows what you’re there to look at. You walk over to the display and peer into the glass. Still on display was your mother’s ring.

“Ah, so this is what you needed the money for!”

Azul almost sounds giddy as he approaches you. You jump back in surprise, not realizing he had even come in. You stammered out apologies, trying to cover up why you had wandered off, but it was too late. You were busted.

Azul glanced at the ring that captivated you. It was a plain silver wedding band with a simple vine engraving. There were no jewels or diamonds in the ring, making it an unpopular pick for couples. To him, it was nothing special. He turned his attention to you, who was still sputtering out explanations, embarrassed. If you just wanted it for aesthetics, you wouldn’t be this flustered. Whatever it meant to you was something he wasn’t privy to, but clearly meant a lot.

“Hey… it’s,” you finally find your words. “It’s 8:30. We have to get back so…”

Azul thankfully says nothing. He nods in agreement, and you begin your walk back to campus.

-

Your walk to quiet once again. You shuffle behind Azul, acting like it’s the groceries in your hands slowing you down. You try convincing yourself that getting caught wasn’t so bad. It shouldn’t have been something you were so embarrassed about. It was natural to miss your parents. It was natural to want something to remind you of them. It was natural to want to work yourself to the bone to earn some money. You didn’t mean to start crying, but you figured you needed it. It started as quiet tears, but they soon turned to sniffles, and then blubbering hiccups. By the time Azul realized you were crying, you were almost wailing.

If you were in the emotional state to pay attention, his panic would be hilarious.

He couldn’t figure out where to start. Did he hug you? Apologize? Ignore you? Tell you to stop crying? He wasn’t trying to upset you. He just wanted to know why you were acting so weird. He tentatively grabbed your arms, gripping them tightly, attempting to soothe you but only successfully shocking you out of a cry. His eyes were wide and worried as he tried to understand where he went wrong.

“Why are you doing that?! It was a ring!”

You sniffed, blinking away the tears in your eyes before frowning.

“It’s my mom’s ring.”

Azul purses his lips. You don’t need to say more than that. He’s a bit of Mama’s Boy himself. He nods slowly and releases your arms before reaching into his coat pocket. He pulls a handkerchief out and wipes your face before you can put the bags in your hands down. Your face is still puffy, but he tried his best to get all the tears and snot off of your face.

“We are extremely late. We must get back immediately so we can open on time.”

And without another word, you two finally make it to the lounge.

-

You finish off your first week a bit better than you started, but not by much. You’ve learned the kitchen lingo fast, but you still weren’t designed for fancy service. You had at least gotten back on Floyd and Jade’s good side, even with the occasional broken dish. You definitely understood why students earned such a high paycheck for their work at the Lounge.

After the final sweep-through, you waved goodbye to the other servers and headed to the locker room. You still hadn’t brought anything to work besides a cell phone, but you preferred sitting here rather than the official break room. You sighed and leaned your head against the lockers, eyes closed. You were utterly exhausted.

A curt, ahem, caught your attention. Standing in the doorway was Azul, eyes focused on you. Since your outburst over the weekend, you have avoided him to the best of your abilities. The embarrassment of breaking down in front of him still fluttered in your stomach. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

“Hello Prefect. Happy to see you survived your first week,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips. It wasn’t one of his usual suave smirks, but a natural grin.

“Survive is right.” You groaned. “You run this place like a Sargent.”

“That is the restaurant business.” He laughs, approaching you. You notice an envelope in his hands.

“I noticed your improvement. Towards the end of the week, you were beginning to be a bit of help.”

“I think you mean ‘becoming a big help’?”

“No, I was very intentional with my words. You are not cut out for this.”

You put your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe he was firing you with a smile on his face.

“Great, thank you. I assume that’s my first and last paycheck?” You gesture to the envelope with one hand while the other massages the space between your eyes. Azul hums in agreement and hands it to you.

“Please do not let this deter you from visiting the Mostro Lounge again in the future. We will still honor your employee discount.” He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but the words don’t come out.

“Good day, Prefect.”

Azul leaves abruptly, turning on his heel and exiting in a hurry. You raise a brow but quickly turn your attention to the envelope. It's smaller than you expected, bulging strangely around the middle. You can’t help but open it in the locker room.

You pull out the contents hurriedly. First is your notice of termination. The second is a note. And lastly, is the ring.

You quickly read the note.

Prefect,

I apologize for not delivering this in person. I figured you wanted to be alone after last weekend. Please let this be a reminder that I can always help you without putting you to work. We absolutely could have worked out an arrangement to fund this ring. Nonetheless, I hope this makes up for a paycheck.

Yours sincerely,

Azul

You can’t help the grin that splits your face as you slide the ring on your finger. You’d have to tell him the truth about your feelings.

The whole truth, this time.

[strawberrygummiess]

hi everyone (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

first i wanna give a big thank you to everyone supporting my two works! i’ve never published fanfic before so it’s been a bit nerve wracking to share creative writing with people, lol

second i’m working on a few more pieces! a couple of tumblr requests are in the works, and i’m working on a few ideas from my own noggin. be on the look out for an uber long azul x reader and a less long trey x reader, cuz those are closest to being finished

lastly, i’m gonna share a playlist for yall with all the songs for the fics. it’s here and also in my pinned post. all of my fics will be based on songs, so i figured i’d put all of them in one place for y’all. you’re gonna see a few sneak peeks for fics there (・ω<)

thank y’all again for all the support!⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ talk to you soon

-bea

[strawberrygummiess]

pink in the night.

malleus x gender neutral! reader 1k words cross posted on ao3 "At one point, Malleus believed he woke up to see the night sky. But now he was convinced he woke up to see you."

 Malleus believes he wakes up to see the stars.

The night sky was truly a gift from Mother Nature herself. She throws a blanket of darkness over the scenery of Night Raven College, with speckles of starlight peeking through, almost like a homemade, crocheted quilt. She tucks in her children with chaste kisses of the night breeze and leaves a little moonlight to ease their fears of the unknown. It was a tranquil showcase of her love for the world and Malleus couldn’t help but mischievously sneak out of bed to see the beauty in her work.

"Ever the poet," Lilia would always remark. Malleus never really agreed. The poetry wrote itself; he only verbalized what he saw. He wasn’t the creative type, he decided. It wasn’t that he sought and found beauty in unconventional places, like a certain Pomefiore Vice Houswarden, it’s only that he recognized what was clearly in front of him. Although, the presence of the Ramshackle Prefect made him consider singing sonnets from the rooftops.

You had been a surprise for him on his nightly walks. He had come to expect the usual landmarks on campus, broken up by the occasional scurrying creature. But you- you were something completely unexpected. A new student, naively curious. Kind, warm, fearless. You were ignorant of who he was; being from another world (how lucky for him!) left him with endless possibilities. With you, he was no longer Malleus Draconia, the crown prince of Briar Valley, and one of the most powerful mages in the world. He was-

“Tsunotarou! Or Hornton. Your choice… never mind, I’ll just use both.”

Malleus replayed that night over and over. How could he not? This was it. A friend. He wasn’t being presumptuous, it was you who gave him a nickname (not that you had a choice of course, but you gave him two) you who joined him on his walks, you who listened to his rambles, you, you. Clearly, you wanted to befriend him. Who else would be this forward?

At one point, Malleus believed he woke up to see the night sky. But now he was convinced he woke up to see you.

This was the conclusion he came to after tonight’s walk with you. You led the conversation this time. You spoke about the adventures you were dragged into; your frustrations with your feline companion and Headmaster Crowley; and how much you enjoyed the night walks with him.

Wait, what?

“Tsunotarou? Hello?” You dragged out the “o” in an endearingly casual manner, stepping in front of him as you tried to ground him back into the moment.

“You in there? Were you listening to me?” You teased, crossing your arms and smiling. You tilted your head to the side as you tried to read his face. He felt entirely exposed; like you could hear his beating heart and see how enamored he was by you. You, however, wished he’d give you a clue about how he was feeling.

“Of course I was, Child of Man,” He responded calmly. He hoped his butterfly-filled stomach didn’t betray his voice. Your favorite part of the day was the walks with him. He’d never been so ecstatic. “I always listen to you,”

You don’t say anything. You continue smiling and narrow your eyes, still looking for something else. Your expression mirrors one Lilia would use before he scolded him. Were you truly mad at him? He could (and would, if you asked) recall everything you said in the past half hour. He would prove that he was listening, deserving of your presence, a good friend- more if you let him. Malleus would literally move mountains if you asked.

“Hey! You’re doing it again, Hornton. Get out of your head.”

Your touch is electrifying. It almost burns. He hears you exclaim about “how cold” his skin is, but only vaguely. What he did notice, was how your hand was holding his face. A concerned look replaced your teasing smile as you studied him. You mumbled again about how cold he was, and pressed your other hand to his forehead, brushing under his bangs.

“If you were sick, why did you walk over here? Now you’ve made it worse!” You scolded, bringing him closer to your height as you gently rubbed his cheeks, attempting to warm him up. “At this rate, you’ll freeze. I mean seriously, you’re as cold as ice!”

Malleus had half a mind to tell you that he was completely fine. He wasn’t sick at all, fae just ran a bit cold. Colder than what a human could stand. Yet he decided to entertain your doting, smiling slightly.

“I apologize, Child of Man. I didn’t want to ruin your favorite part of the day. Do forgive me,” It was his turn to tease. Just a little. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge in your attention. You click your tongue, before releasing his head and declaring the walk “over”. Pity. He was hoping you’d hold him for a bit longer. He usually wasn’t very tolerant of the heat, but he was happy to withstand it if it meant you held him longer.

“C’mon Tsunotarou,” You announce, walking back in the direction you came. “We gotta go back to my dorm. I’ll wrap you in a blanket burrito and feed you some tuna soup…” you cringe. “It tastes better than it sounds, promise.” You clarify, before decisively grabbing his hand and gently tugging him forward.

He listens to you explain different ways you’ve learned to transform canned tuna because of Grim, to varying success. You once again reassure him that the soup is one of the better creations, before continuing your rant about “missing regular meat,” and “tuna isn’t even the best fish!” but at this point, Malleus can only focus on the warm grip of your hand on his and the constant hammering of his heart.

Oh, the poems he’d write about you. They’d feature tales of fish and ice, comparisons to the peace of the night, and love letters from the starry sky. But really, he wouldn’t be doing much work. He only verbalized the beauty he saw, after all.

[strawberrygummiess]

forwards, beckon rebound

leona kingscholar x gender neutral! reader 2.1k words cross posted on ao3

As a college student, you always wished you could return to high school.

You’d go back in time with all the wisdom you could possibly have in your early twenties and do it all differently. Try a little harder, be a little wittier, and be a little nicer to your parents… if you could, you would make every right decision. If you laid a solid foundation, maybe you’d be employed with a real job, in a nice apartment. Maybe your post-grad life wouldn’t look so bleak.

And yet, now that you’re presented with the opportunity, this hypothetical has never felt so incredibly stupid.

Since you were transported to Twisted Wonderland, you’ve floated through limbo. Too old to relate to the students you hung around, too young to understand your professors. Not only were you aged out of your peers, but you had no grasp on how this world worked. Everything was foreign, and no one cared to help you. Even your college-grade research skills did nothing to help you understand the rules of this world. It was an isolating experience that no one could have ever foreseen in their stupid “if you could go back to high school with all the knowledge you have now” hypothetical.

Maybe that was why you were glued to Leona as much as he would let you be.

Since helping him through his overblot (in what world would your college experience help you with that scenario?) you couldn’t help but latch on to him. It’s not that you enjoyed the danger of near death, it was that you could finally speak to someone relatively your age. The long conversations you had in the infirmary and in the darkness of his room were quiet and familiar. It felt like you were back in your dorm room, recapping your day to your roommates in hushed whispers. It was a little thing, but it grounded you down more than you cared to admit. And when your life had turned into reliving the worst parts of high school, fighting poverty, and just trying to survive potentially deadly magical scenarios, you could live with the little things. And you didn’t really care if Leona wanted you there or not.

“Back again? Is there no one else for you to bother?”

Leona’s grumble shook you from your thoughts. It was a routine at this point. Once again, you stood over him in the gardens, silently asking for permission to sit next to him while you skipped your potions class (because you just didn’t have it in you to do high school over again, really). He would pretend to be annoyed, tease you for your lack of friends, and settle into a comfortable silence while you sat with him. Sometimes you would attempt a conversation, but most of the time you just sat quietly until the class period ended. Today would be the same as it always was; you, gaining a bit of sanity back before rejoining the freshmen in their classes and feeling lost all over again.

“You already know the answer,” you reply, sitting in the grass next to him. “Besides, I can’t stand potions. Or Grim. Not today.” You lie back in the grass and sigh as the tension in your back dissipates and wait out how today’s hour will go.

Leona hums in response and closes his eyes again. You expect this to be the end of your conversation and get ready to zone out for an hour before he continues.

“Can you stand it any day?”

It’s vague. Purposefully so. Leona tests you. Your intelligence, your boundaries, your limits. In this moment he could be referring to anything. Your class, Grim, your peers, your new life- you could choose to answer to any of these topics, and he would respond accordingly. He was quicker than you, smarter than you could’ve ever hoped to be, all naturally. If you were still in school, you’d be jealous of this kind of wit. Now, you’re just happy to be challenged. Except now, of course, when you didn’t know how to answer his question.

Truthfully, the conversations you had with Leona were rare. You could count them on one hand. Asking for too much will scare him out of talking. You’ve learned the hard way what makes Leona shut down. And usually, it’s you digging too deep too fast. You know gradually chipping away at his shell is the only way to make him vulnerable, but you can’t help but be impatient, and greedy. You want more than he’s willing to give because you’re desperate for something to latch on to. So, of course, when you’re finally presented with the opportunity to learn more, you’re floundering.

“No, not really.”

You match his ambiguity. Admittedly, you can’t decide what deserves a rant from you first. The ridiculous expectations that Crowley has imposed on you, the exhaustion that comes from dealing with Grim, the frustration with your lack of funds (that admittedly, you’re used to after only landing a retail position post-graduation).

“I’m just tired of being older than everyone else.”

It comes out before you realize it. You and Leona are around the same age. You can only imagine the agony of being an adult student around the rest of Night Raven College. To the rest of the students, being a few years their senior feels like nothing. To you, it feels like you’ve stepped out of a nursing home. You’ve never asked Leona his feelings about it. You just hoped it was an unspoken understanding that you two needed each other, if just for this. You knew you needed him, at least.

“Yeah? Join the club.”

He answers, before opening his eyes and looking at you. His face was relaxed but his gaze was focused and sharp. He was the hunter, and you were the prey. He was studying you, preparing for your next step. It was frustrating just how easily he read you. It was like he already knew everything you felt. And yet, you knew nothing about him. Nothing important, anyway. He always knew how to avoid your pressing. Every step forward came at the cost of three steps back. You weren’t privy to much of anything, just bits and pieces of surface-level information that never helped you understand him. That’s how he wanted it. But you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“How do you live like this? This… limbo? I feel like I’m not in my body.” You decided to test the waters. Push him a little further. Beg for more information. Desperately trying to get inside. You sit up and try to gather your thoughts and strategize, but you keep talking before your brain can catch up.

“Everything is monotonous, and yet not at the same time… and I feel like I can’t keep up with anything! Socially, and academically, I’ve never felt so out of place… I feel so old and young in all the wrong ways. And I get this is what your twenties feel like. It’s just never felt so obvious before.”

“Hmm… speak for yourself. I’ve never felt so in with the times” Leona jokes, before sitting up alongside you. Giddiness fills you before you can stop it. Engaging him in a conversation is so rare, you love it when you get it right. You love feeling a bit of normalcy.

“C’mon, you know that’s not what I meant. It’s developmentally y’know? Because… I’ve already been to high school- sorry, college, - graduated, went to university, and then graduated from that too! And now I’m back? It feels weird… I feel weird.”

You wait for him to respond after your outburst, but he doesn’t say anything. In the back of your head, you remind yourself that he doesn’t know your plight. Leona hasn’t graduated from Night Raven yet. This is his first time through high school. And he has the bonus of being from this world. You’re in a unique situation that no one else could ever possibly relate to. But his silence makes you feel uneasy. You feel the need to keep explaining, to word vomit your feelings out until they go away. You hope that eventually, all the circles you’re going in will lead you in a different direction. Or at least lead to Leona saying he understands you. Maybe by the end of it, you can even understand yourself.

“People from my world always ask, ‘What would you do if you could go back to high school with the knowledge you have now?’ and I always had a solid plan. I’d be a better student and a better person, and I wouldn’t work in a grocery store by the end of it. But no one ever thinks about how weird it is to have an adult brain stuck in a system designed for kids. No one talks about how that messes up your plans before they even start.”

Leona huffs again.

“You were after me. You’re the one who had to realize it.”

It was true. You were the traditional, model student. You did everything you were supposed to, on schedule, with perfect timing. Yet you couldn’t help the frustration rise within you. That wasn’t what you meant. He knew that. He was too smart not to know what you meant.

“I never said you didn’t understand. I just want to know how you handle it. It’s eating me alive. I don’t know if I can handle high schoolers anymore.”

You let out a strained chuckle. You hope he won’t notice your annoyance at his flippancy. You needed to remain calm. Otherwise, he’d pull away and you’d have to navigate your feelings alone again.

“I handle it like this, Herbivore. Take it or leave it.”

He moves to lie down again, and you can’t help the desperation that seeps through you. You move to grab his shoulder, to steady him before he’s unavailable again. He looks at you, intrigued by spontaneity, but says nothing else. The ball is in your court. And yet, you can’t find the words to continue.

This is how he handles it. He sleeps away his problems and runs from them until it culminates into a fury of anger that pushes people away. No one knows Leona Kingscholar, they only know the twenty-year-old junior who hides his intelligence in his dreams. You can't help but tighten your grip on his shoulder. You hope if you hold him there, he won’t hide from you.

“Does it help to have someone else?”

You ask sheepishly. You think you know the answer. He doesn’t say anything. His ears twitch as he stares at you, waiting for you to continue. You were hoping for him to say something else, but he waited.

“It helps me at least. Even if you don’t talk much. It’s nice to float through limbo with someone else if we can’t help each other.”

You settle on boosting his ego. Telling him you need him. You’re sure he knows this already. You seek him out every day. Even if he won’t tell you, he needs you too. He would’ve already pushed you away if he didn’t. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Leona, horrifically, says nothing. He just stares at you with his piercing gaze, filling you with unease. He always knows how to make you regret digging too deep. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know how to get you to stay away permanently. Maybe his silent stare will finally scare you away. Maybe, silence was the only appropriate way to respond to your outburst. You decide you sounded crazy, and you overstepped. You open your mouth to do some semblance of damage control before he beats you to it.

“Of course, you need me, who doesn’t?”

He breaks out into a comfortable smirk. His arrogance usually annoyed you, but this time, you were relieved. You haven’t messed up yet. You didn’t move forward, but you were okay with staying where you were if it meant he’d keep you around. He gently removed your hand from his shoulder and began to lean back. You knew your hour was up. You had to find Grim and join the freshmen for their next class. Leona had to sleep his emotions away.

As you left the gardens, you felt yourself entering autopilot. Your brain was away from your body as you joined Ace, Deuce, and Grim. They chattered about their last class, excitedly discussing their plans with one another while you thought about your routine. You will be in the gardens tomorrow, avoiding your classes, and desperately trying to befriend someone who can understand you but doesn’t want to. At least for one hour, you would be grounded again.