The kitchen smelled like vanilla, warm butter, and fresh strawberries, the usual peaceful Saturday afternoon baking session. Trey had his sleeves rolled up, apron dusted with flour. His son sat on a tall stool nearby, little legs swinging back and forth as he watched his father work. But the boy’s mind was clearly elsewhere. He kept glancing toward the doorway that led to the living room, where you were currently resting on the couch with a pillow behind your back.
Trey noticed the distraction and smiled softly, wiping his hands in a towel. “What’s on your mind, buddy? You’ve been quiet today.”
The little boy looked up at him with serious eyes. “Daddy, you have to stop feeding Mommy so many sweets.”
Trey raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because her belly is getting really huge!” the boy said matter of factly. “and she keeps saying her back hurts. If you keep giving her cake and tarts, she’s gonna get even bigger!”
Trey let out a warm, fond laugh that filled the kitchen. He set the bowl down and crouched slightly so he was closer to his son eye level. “That’s not because of the sweets, kiddo. Mommy’s belly is big because your little sister is growing in there.”
The boy’s eyes widened in pure horror. “Mommy ate my future sister?!”
Trey had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing too hard. He reached out and gently ruffled his son’s hair. “No, no. She didn’t eat her. That’s not how it works.”
The boy tilted his head, clearly confused but now intensely curious. “Then… how did the baby get in there?”
Trey froze for a second.
Ah. The Question.
He had known this day would come eventually. He thought for a long moment, trying to find an explanation that was gentle enough for a child, and wouldn’t get him in trouble with you later for oversharing. Finally, he smiled that calm, reliable dad smile and went with what he knew best.
“It’s kind of like baking.” Trey explained. “When two people love each other very much, like Mommy and I do, they put all their love together, along with some special ingredients. It makes a kind of dough. Then they carefully shape that dough with lots of care and warmth. And after a long time of ‘baking’… a baby comes out, all ready and perfect.”
The boy’s eyes sparkled with sudden understanding. “So… it’s like making a gingerbread man?”
Trey nodded, relieved. “Exactly like that. Except way more special. And instead of cookies, you get a little sister.”
The boy thought about it for a second, then grinned brightly. “Can we make gingerbread men right now? With buttons and everything? I want to make one for my baby sister!”
Trey chuckled and stood up, already reaching for the cookie cutters. “Sure thing. But we have to save some dough for Mommy too. She’s been craving sweets even more lately.”
As father and son started rolling out fresh gingerbread dough together, the dangerous question was successfully avoided. Trey made a mental note to thank the Seven that his son was still young enough to be distracted by baked goods.
Later that evening, when you walked into the kitchen and saw the tray of slightly lopsided gingerbread babies, you raised an eyebrow at Trey. “…Do I even want to know what conversation led to this?”
Trey just smiled innocently and kissed your cheek. “Let’s just say I handled the ‘where do babies come from’ talk with minimal damage.”
Ruggie Bucchi
Ruggie was in the middle of his least favorite chore …laundry… grumbling under his breath about how how is he supposed to fold a panties. He was sorting socks when his little girl walked into the room, clutching his car keys in both hands like they were precious treasure.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oi, what’re you planning with those, kiddo?”
She looked up at him with big, determined eyes and declared. “Daddy, you need to take me to the hospital right now.”
Ruggie’s ears shot straight up. His eyes blew wide in instant panic.
1. Something was wrong with his baby girl.
2. If anything was wrong with her, you were going to kill him, bring him back, and kill him again.
He dropped the laundry basket and crouched down immediately, hands gently checking her forehead, arms, and knees. “What’s wrong?! Does anything hurt? Did you fall? Are you sick? Talk to me, kid!”
His daughter shook her head, looking perfectly fine and a little confused by his reaction. “I’m okay, Daddy.”
Ruggie let out a huge sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. “Then why do you wanna go to the hospital so bad?”
She said it so casually it nearly knocked him over. “To buy me a little sister.”
Ruggie blinked once. Twice.
“…The hospital doesn’t sell kids, kiddo.”
His daughter puffed out her cheeks and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re a big liar! I saw it! People walk in with nothing and come out carrying babies!”
Ruggie had to bite down hard on his lip to stop himself from laughing right in her face. His shoulders shook with the effort. This was too good. He tried to keep a straight face. “That’s… not quite how it works.”
She crossed her arms, looking thoroughly annoyed. “Then where do babies come from?”
Ruggie leaned back against the washing machine, grinning that signature sly hyena smile. He shrugged. “Sorry, kid. That kind of top secret information costs a lot. And your little piggy bank doesn’t have nearly enough saved up to buy it from me.”
His daughter stared at him for a long moment, clearly plotting. Ruggie thought he was so smart. He thought he’d bought himself some peace and quiet.
He was wrong.
A few hours later, you walked through the front door and immediately narrowed your eyes at Ruggie, who was now pretending to be very focused on washing the dishes.
“Why…” you asked slowly, “did our daughter just call Leona on the phone asking to borrow money so she could ‘buy information’ from her father?”
Ruggie froze mid fold. His ears flattened. “..She did what now?”
You crossed your arms. “You heard me.”
Ruggie ran a hand down his face, groaning. “That little sneak… I knew she was too smart for her own good.” Ruggie sighed dramatically and flopped against you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Can’t we just tell her the stork brings them? Or that they grow on trees?”
“You messed up, you solve it.”
He never going to live this one down.
Jade Leech
Jade walked hand in hand with his daughter after he picked her up from kindergarten. He’s listening attentively as she chattered away about her day. His usual polite smile was soft and genuine, these moments with her were some of his favorites.
“We went to the aquarium today, Papa!” she said excitedly, swinging his hand. “We saw big fishes and tiny fishes and, and baby seahorses! They were so small and funny looking!”
Jade nodded, eyes warm with amusement. “That sounds quite fascinating. Did you learn anything interesting about them?”
She nodded vigorously. “The teacher said the daddy seahorse carries the babies and gives birth to them! It looked really silly.”
Jade chuckled softly. “Nature has many curious ways of…”
The little girl suddenly stopped walking and looked up at him with big, innocent eyes. “Papa… did you give birth to me? Just like the daddy seahorse?”
Jade froze mid step.
For once in his life, the ever composed Jade Leech was completely speechless. His eyes widened slightly as he stared down at his daughter. “…Could you repeat that, my dear?” he asked, voice still polite but just a touch strained, hoping he had simply misheard.
She repeated it cheerfully. “The teacher said boy seahorses give birth to the babies. And seahorses are fish, and you’re a fish too, Papa! So you must have given birth to me!”
Jade stood there in stunned silence for several long seconds. He had mentally prepared for many things as a father. The “where do babies come from” question had been on his list, neatly categorized with several age appropriate explanations ready. But this? Not even on the backup list.
He crouched down to her eye level, still maintaining his calm smile with impressive effort. “Humans and merfolk are not quite the same as fish, especially not seahorses.” he explained gently. “Our biology is rather different.”
His daughter tilted her head, blinking up at him with pure curiosity. “Why? Then how dose we do it?”
Jade opened his mouth… then closed it. For the first time in years, he found himself mentally unequipped. He could feel the beginning of a rare headache forming. Thankfully, salvation appeared just ahead.
“Ah!” Jade said smoothly, straightening up and pointing toward a colorful shop across the street. “Look at that. They have your favorite ice cream today. Would you like some?”
The distraction worked instantly. His daughter gasped in delight and the dangerous topic was (temporarily) forgotten as they went to get ice cream.
The next day, Azul came to visit, as he occasionally did. The two were chatting in the living room while your daughter played nearby. At one point, Azul mentioned with a small, proud smile
“Actually, my wife and I have been talking about having one more child.”
Before Jade could respond, his daughter looked up from her toys and said brightly. “So Uncle Azul is gonna give birth soon?”
The entire room went dead silent.
Azul’s teacup froze halfway to his mouth. His face went through several shades of color. Jade’s polite smile twitched dangerously at the corners.
“…I beg your pardon?” Azul asked weakly.
Jade cleared his throat, voice still perfectly polite but with a dangerous edge. “It seems my daughter has developed some… interesting theories after her aquarium trip.”
Your daughter nodded seriously. “Daddy seahorses give birth! And Uncle Azul is…”
Jade quickly stood up. “My dear, why don’t we go see if there’s more ice cream in the kitchen?” As he gently ushered his daughter out of the room, Jade glanced back at Azul with a serene yet terrifying smile.
“We will never speak of this again.”
Kalim Al Asim
It was one of those rare, perfectly peaceful afternoons in the Al-Asim household. No parties. No sudden guests. No emergencies. Just you and Kalim sitting on the mountain of colorful pillows scattered across the living room carpet, chatting about nothing important, how the new fountain in the garden looked, what the kids had drawn that morning, and how lucky you both felt to have such a lively family. Kalim eyes sparkled as he leaned in closer, a bright, affectionate smile on his face. He leaned closer playfully, already tilting his head to kiss you but before his lips could meet yours, a tiny boy burst into the room.
“NOOO!”
Your youngest son sprinted between the two of you and shoved Kalim chest with both little hands, pushing him back with surprising determination for a five year old. Then he immediately climbed into your lap and wrapped his arms tightly around your neck, glaring at his father. “Stay away from Mommy!”
You and Kalim both froze, staring at your son in shock.
“…Sweetie?” You gently patted his back, trying to understand. “What’s going on? Why did you do that?”
The little boy hugged you tighter, burying his face in your shoulder for a moment before turning to glare at Kalim again. “Daddy needs to stop!”
Kalim blinked, looking genuinely hurt and very confused. He had never once raised his voice or laid an angry hand on you. He couldn’t imagine what he’d done wrong.
“Me? What did I do, little treasure?” Kalim asked softly, tilting his head. “Did I make you upset?”
The boy pointed an accusing finger at his father. “You keep kissing Mommy! You have to stop! I don’t want more siblings!”
Both you and Kalim froze again. A long, heavy silence filled the room. You had to press your face into your son’s hair to hide how hard you were trying not to laugh. Kalim’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again.
“…Kissing?” he repeated, blinking rapidly. “Kissing doesn’t make babies, buddy. You don’t have to worry about that.”
The little boy looked at his father like he had just said the sky was green. His eyes started to glisten with frustrated tears. “But Uncle Jamil said kissing makes babies! And Uncle Jamil is really smart! He can’t be wrong!”
Kalim’s jaw dropped.
You finally lost the battle and let out a soft snort of laughter, quickly turning it into a comforting hum as you rocked your son gently. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. Everything’s alright. You’re not getting any more siblings right now. Daddy and I promise.”
The little boy sniffled, but your reassurance seemed to calm him. He stayed glued to your lap for a long time, occasionally shooting protective glances whenever your husband moved too close. Kalim just sat there, still looking stunned.
For the rest of that week, your son appointed himself the official “Kissing Guard.”
Every time Kalim tried to lean in for even a quick peck on your cheek, a tiny body would appear out of nowhere, pushing between you two with dramatic flair. “No kissing! No more brothers and sisters!”
Kalim took it with his usual good humor at first, laughing and ruffling the boy’s hair, trying to negotiate “just one little kiss” but by day four he was dramatically pretending to cry about being “banned from loving his wife.”
You eventually had to sit your son down again and explain that babies don’t appear just because people kiss. He listened, but still remained suspicious of any affection between you and Kalim for a while.
Rook Hunt
Rook was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, preparing a beautiful lunch. Soft music played in the background as he chopped vegetables. His son walked in with an unusually serious expression on his small face, brows furrowed, lips pressed together, the very picture of a tiny dramatic boy.
Rook’s sharp eyes noticed immediately. He set down the wooden spoon and turned with a warm, attentive smile. “Why such a grave face? Come, tell your Papa what troubles you.”
The little boy stood straight, took a deep breath, and said with all the seriousness a five year old could. “Papa… I’m going to be a father.”
Rook had to use everything not to burst into delighted laughter right then and there. Instead, he crouched gracefully to his son’s eye level, tilting his head with fond curiosity. “Oh? And how did this wonderful event come to pass?”
The boy’s cheeks flushed bright red. He looked down at his shoes, mumbling shyly. “I… I kissed a girl on the cheek.”
Rook’s heart melted into a puddle of pure adoration. He let out a soft, warm chuckle and scooped his son up into his arms, spinning him once before hugging him close.
“Ah, how romantic! A kiss on the cheek is a truly beautiful and noble gesture. However!” he added gently, tapping his son’s nose. “I’m afraid such a sweet little kiss will not make babies.”
The boy blinked up at him, confused. “Why not?”
Rook smiled patiently. “It is a much more complicated and magical process, my son. You are still far too young for such things. When you are older, we can speak of it properly.”
The boy pouted a little, but his curiosity remained.
But Rook’s eyes still sparkled up with pride. “ Who is the lucky girl? Did you treat her like a princess? I certainly hope so! Tell me everything, my little hunter. What is her name? Did you bow properly when…”
The kitchen door opened.
You walked in holding your phone, one eyebrow raised. “Rook…” you said slowly. “why did Vil just called me asking why his daughter came home announcing that she’s going to have a baby… and that our son is the father?”
The room went silent.
Rook kept smiling, that perfect, dazzling smile, but his face slowly drained of all color until he looked almost ghostly pale.
For the first time in recorded history, Rook Hunt whispered
“…Fuck.”
Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia was on the couch, peacefully flipping through a brand new cookbook, his eyes scanned the pages with interest when he heard the familiar tiny feet running. His daughter approached with sparkling eyes and a determined little bounce in her step.
Lilia immediately set the book aside, and scooped her up with a bright grin, settling her comfortably on his lap. “Well, well~ What brings my precious little batling to me with such shining eyes? Come, ask Papa anything!”
The little girl looked up at him seriously. “Papa… I have a question. It’s about babies.”
Lilia took a deep, theatrical breath and puffed out his chest with confidence. This was familiar territory. He had already survived this conversation once with Malleus and once with Silver. He was prepared. He would nail this one.
“Ask away, my dear! Papa knows everything!”
His daughter tilted her head. “Did I come from an egg?”
Lilia raised an elegant eyebrow. “An egg? Now why would you think that?”
“Because big brother Malleus said he came from an egg!”
Lilia’s smile faltered for half a second. He prayed internally that Malleus hadn’t gone into graphic detail about dragon hatching and mating rituals.
“Ah… I see. Well, no, my sweet. You did not come from an egg. Malleus is a dragon, so he hatched from one. But you, my darling girl, are different.”
His daughter nodded slowly, processing this new information. Then she looked up again with big, innocent eyes. “Did you find me in the woods?”
Lilia blinked. Twice. “…No?”
She pouted, crossing her little arms. “But big brother Silver told me you found him in the woods when he was a baby!”
Lilia let out a long, suffering sigh, rubbing his temple with one hand while still holding her with the other. “That… is a very different and rather complicated situation, my dear. I did not pick you up from the woods. You came here through the natural ways that babies usually arrive. If you’d like, I can explain it to you…”
Before he could continue, his daughter suddenly hopped off his lap. “Nope! That sounds boring!” she declared cheerfully. “I’m not interested anymore!”
And with that, she skipped away toward her toys, leaving Lilia sitting on the couch in stunned silence. He stared at the empty space where she had been, cookbook forgotten on the cushion beside him.
“…Boring?” he whispered, genuinely offended. “I was prepared to give her the whole speech!”Lilia slumped back dramatically. “Children these days have no appreciation for a well crafted explanation from an ancient fae…”
to all my researchers, students and people in general who love learning: if you don't know this already, i'm about to give you a game changer
connectedpapers
the basic rundown is: you use the search bar to enter a topic, scientific paper name or DOI. the website then offers you a list of papers on the topic, and you choose the one you're looking for/most relevant one. from here, it makes a tree diagram of related papers that are clustered based on topic relatability and colour-coded by time they were produced!
for example: here i search "human B12"
i go ahead and choose the first paper, meaning my graph will be based around it and start from the topics of "b12 levels" and "fraility syndrome"
here is the graph output! you can scroll through all the papers included on the left, and clicking on each one shows you it's position on the chart + will pull up details on the paper on the right hand column (title, authors, citations, abstract/summary and links where the paper can be found)
you get a few free graphs a month before you have to sign up, and i think the free version gives you up to 5 a month. there are paid versions but it really depends how often you need to use this kinda thing.
researchrabbit works similarly. you do need to create an account to use it, but it is completely free (as far as I know), meaning no limits to your collections/graphs.
There is something uniquely exhausting about loving someone who is kind to everybody. You figure this out slowly, the way you figure out most things that hurt. It starts as a small, warm feeling somewhere in your chest whenever Trey Clover smiles at you from across the Heartslabyul kitchen, flour dusted along his forearm, the scent of something buttery and sweet already filling the whole room. It is easy, at first, to let yourself enjoy it. His smile is one of those rare things in life that feels like it was made specifically for you, even when your brain quietly reminds you that it was not.
Trey smiles like that at Riddle when he sets a perfectly iced tart in front of him. He smiles like that at the first-years when he catches them looking overwhelmed before exams. He smiles like that at you, and at Ace, and at Cater, and at just about every person who wanders through the Heartslabyul gates on a slow afternoon. His warmth has no ceiling and no particular address. It is simply there, available, generous, and completely impossible to read. This, you decide one Friday evening while watching him pour tea for literally everyone in the common room before himself, is the problem. You cannot tell if he likes you. You cannot tell if he likes you any more than he likes the potted rosebush by the front entrance, which he also tends to with remarkable care. You have spent weeks collecting tiny moments and turning them over in your hands like sea glass, trying to find the edge that makes them special.
The time he noticed your headache before you mentioned it and slid two pain tablets across the table without a word. The afternoon he walked you back toward Ramshackle after a Heartslabyul visit ran late, just because, he said, the path gets dark quickly and he had nowhere urgent to be. The way he remembers your favorite flavors without being asked and somehow always has something ready that matches them.
But then you watch him do the same, softer, different versions of all those things for other people, and the sea glass loses its shine. It is not his fault. You know that. Trey Clover is just built this way, steady and attentive, the kind of person whose care comes out of him like breathing. He does not mean to confuse you. He probably does not even know he is doing it. That almost makes it worse. So you do the only logical thing, which is to quietly, carefully, start putting distance between yourself and the problem. You stop dropping by Heartslabyul on weekday afternoons. You keep your responses in the group chat friendly but short. When your paths cross in the halls between classes, you give him a wave and a smile and keep walking before your chest can do anything stupid. It feels a little like holding your breath underwater. Uncomfortable, but manageable. You tell yourself you just need time to sort out your own feelings without his gravitational pull making it impossible to think straight.
For about two weeks, it works. Sort of. You sleep better. You stop overanalyzing his texts for hidden warmth. You eat your meals without looking up every time someone with brown hair and glasses walks past. What you do not account for is Trey noticing. He shows up at Ramshackle on a Saturday afternoon, right in the middle of the golden hour when the light comes through the dusty windows and makes everything look like an old photograph. You open the door and he is just standing there in his weekend clothes, a covered dish balanced in one hand, looking at you with something in his expression that you do not immediately have a name for. “I made lemon tarts,” he says. “You haven’t come by in a while.”
You step back to let him in because you are not made of stone, and also because you genuinely do not know what else to do. He sets the dish on the table in the main room and sits down like he belongs there, which, after all this time, he kind of does. “I’ve been busy,” you say, which is mostly a lie and probably sounds like one. Trey looks at you for a moment. He has this particular way of looking at people, careful and unhurried, like he is in no rush to reach a conclusion and is content to just observe until the right answer shows up on its own. You have always found it comforting. Right now it makes your pulse jump.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says. It is not an accusation. His voice is even, almost gentle, which somehow makes it harder to deflect. You sit down across from him and look at the covered dish instead of his face. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” “You walked the long way around the main building three times this week.” You look up. “How do you even know that?” “Because I was coming the short way and I kept almost running into you.” The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “You’re not as subtle as you think.” The embarrassment that moves through you is significant and immediate. You consider briefly whether the floor could just absorb you, and when it does not, you decide there is really nothing left to do but be honest. The distance was not working anyway. You are still just as in love with him as you were two weeks ago, maybe more, because apparently absence does not cure this particular problem, it just makes it louder.
“I was avoiding you,” you admit. “I just…” You stop. Start over. “It’s hard to be around you sometimes.” Trey’s expression shifts. Something in it becomes more careful. “Why?” “Because I can’t tell what you mean.” The words come out quieter than you intended. “You’re kind to everyone. You remember everyone’s preferences and you check in on people and you notice things that nobody else notices, and I never know if I’m just another person you’re keeping track of or if…” You trail off. “It’s easier to not think about it if I don’t see you.” The room is quiet for a moment. Outside, a bird calls once from somewhere in the overgrown garden and then goes silent. “What do you want it to be?” Trey asks. You look at him. He is watching you with that same unhurried attention, but there is something underneath it now that you have not seen before, or maybe have seen and talked yourself out of every time. Something that sits in the space between careful and hopeful. “I want it to be more,” you say. “I want you to look at me the way you look at everyone else, except also somehow different. I want to be one of the things you actually keep.” You exhale slowly. “I know that’s not a small thing to ask.”
Trey is quiet for long enough that your heart starts doing something unpleasant. Then he reaches across the table and takes the cover off the dish, revealing a small stack of lemon tarts, each one precisely iced, each one the exact style you mentioned offhandedly months ago when he had asked what your favorite dessert was. “I made these specifically for you,” he says. “Not for Riddle. Not for anyone else. I made them because you hadn’t come by and I kept thinking about whether you’d eaten anything you actually liked today.”
You stare at the tarts. Then you look at him. “I think about you differently,” he continues, and his voice is quieter now, steady but quieter. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say that without making things strange between us. You’re not just someone I keep track of. You’re someone I keep coming back to.” He pauses. “You’re someone I wanted to come find today.” Something in your chest loosens all at once, like a knot that has been pulled tight for a very long time finally releasing. “I’m in love with you,” you say, because it feels important to say it plainly, out loud, where there is no room for misreading it.
Trey looks at you for a moment, and then he smiles. Not the open, easy smile he gives to everyone. Something softer than that. Something that does not look like it belongs to anyone else. “I know,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you too. I just didn’t want to assume.” You laugh before you can stop yourself, a short and slightly disbelieving sound, because of course. Of course Trey Clover, who notices everything, who keeps track of everyone, who shows up at your door on a Saturday with a dish of lemon tarts made precisely to your taste, would not assume.
“You could have just said something,” you say. “So could you.” He has a point. You concede it with a small nod, and he slides the dish toward you, and you take one of the tarts, and for the next hour the two of you sit in the golden afternoon light and talk the way you have always talked, easy and unhurried, except now his knee is close enough to yours that they are almost touching, and every time you glance up he is already looking at you.
It feels different this time. It feels exactly like what you asked for.
You are someone he keeps coming back to.
And he is, it turns out, someone you do not have to figure out anymore.
Could I request Sebek x fem!reader where reader is basically the cure for him getting cold at night because she runs really warm.
You can make it headcanons if you can't make it a oneshot :3
Also if you don't feel like you can write this please just send me a dm or reply to this so I know to send in another when I can
⚡︎ ⋆.˚ ❝ melt you like a popsicle! ❞ feat. sebek zigvolt
↪ summary ♡ ˎˊ˗ in which you help your boyfriend who is a living popsicle!
↪ content ♡ ˎˊ˗ oneshot (1.3k words), gender neutral reader, no use of name, fluff, short and sweet!
↪ masterlist ♡ ˎˊ˗
“So, you’re saying that you just need me to sleep with you tonight?” You teased, grinning at Sebek as he sputtered at your words, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.
“YOU ARE WORDING IT STRANGELY ON PURPOSE.” He announced dramatically, looking around to make sure nobody had heard what you’d said. “It’s not that way, as I clearly stated!! It is only for the purpose of surviving to live another day!!”
“And not because you want to spend a night with me?” You pouted at him, pretending to be upset. His cheeks turned from pink to red as he attempted to cover his face with his hand, the color still clearly visible on his neck and ears.
“I-I…I DID NOT SAY THAT.” His words were a bit muffled due to how he was covering his face, but it was still easy to understand him given his natural talking volume.
You kind of felt bad for teasing him so much when he had clearly been building up the courage to ask you, but you couldn’t help yourself! He’s just too cute! “So you do want to spend a night with me, huh? That makes me happy.”
“YOU-!” He started, his face betraying his inner turmoil. “Be at Diasomnia tonight and don’t be late!! I MUST ATTEND CLASS NOW.” He turned on his heel and left right away, his strides rather long.
“Maybe he didn’t realize that he didn’t tell me what time?” You said to yourself, watching as he walked away.
♡♡♡
When you receive a rather demanding text from Sebek, you can only giggle before making your way to the Mirror Chamber, (he admitted he had forgotten to tell you a time, but he assured you dinner was already over).
It’s already late in the evening when you arrive at Diasomnia, so there’s not too many who notice your sudden presence except for the few students lingering in the common area. When you spot Sebek, you have to stifle your giggles; he’s standing in the corner next to the staircase, his posture abnormally rigid as he smoothed his hair over with his hands. He had already changed into his pajamas, and you found it a bit endearing how they matched his hair color, (although you’re questioning the hat…does he really need a hat to go to sleep?).
He only notices your presence when you’re directly in front of him, his eyes momentarily widening at how you playfully let out a ‘boo!’. “When did you get here?! You should have said something!!”
“Relax, I just got here! I didn’t wanna keep my popsicle waiting too long~”
“YOU…” Heads turned when Sebek’s voice unintentionally got a bit louder, to which he cleared his throat awkwardly, lowering the volume again. “I am not a popsicle!! As I said, this is only for the purpose of-of survival!”
“If you say so,” You teased, making Sebek narrow his gaze at you in his very serious way, (he’s so cute even if he’s looking at you like this).
“I do!!” He began walking up the stairs with you following, leading the both of you to his room.
Perhaps his request had been so surprising to you since he hadn’t even let you into his room yet, stating that you would ‘distract’ him from sleeping or studying if you were there, (which you could tell was a bit of a thing for him to admit, so you decided not to tease him about it). You had to admit, you were pretty curious about his room decor…were there portraits of Malleus everywhere?
Oh, there’s just one. That’s better than I was expecting.
“Pff, Sebek…” You giggled, pointing at his bed.
“W-What?!”
“Hehe, did you match your sheets to your hair color?” He sputtered at your words, his words suddenly coming up blank.
“I, uh…I…LILIA CHOSE THEM FOR ME.” He stammered, crossing his arms and huffing.
“Yeah?”
“YES,”
“It’s cute,”
“Cute?!” He exclaimed, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he looked at you in shock. “You think it’s cute…” His eyes widen even more as you tap his nose playfully.
“Yup. Are you ready for me to melt you now?”
“Melt-?! Wha-?!”
“‘Cause you’re my super sweet popsicle who freezes without me, apparently.” Sebek gaped at your teasing, seeming unable to form words as you flopped on his bed, making yourself comfortable. “If you’re gonna stand there all night, it’ll hurt my feelings.”
“You’re on the whole bed!!”
“Oops.” You scooted yourself over, making room for him as he walked over rather robotically, seating himself on the very edge of the bed.
“Well!!” He started, turning off the lamp. “Fairest of nights to you, rest well!!” His body weight shifted in the bed, and from the dim outline in the dark you could tell he was laying as close to the edge as he possibly could, laying completely flat like a wooden plank.
“...You’re gonna stay all the way over there?”
“This is a suitable spot.”
“You don’t want to be closer to me?” There was silence for a bit, your question hanging in the air as you patiently waited for his answer.
“I don’t wish to make you…uncomfortable.”
“Would I have agreed if I thought I was going to be uncomfortable?” There was silence from him, and you knew you’d won. “Exactly. Now come here, I know you’re freezing.”
He stayed still for a few moments before awkwardly shuffling over, stopping when he was just shy of actually making any contact with you. Even without touching him, you could feel the chill that was radiating off of him. You could only smile quietly to yourself at how he was trying to respect your boundaries, (that you didn’t even set) as you cuddled into his side, pulling your leg up to rest over him. His skin was ice cold against yours which made a shiver go down your back, but you kept close to him, knowing your heater-like warmth would kick in soon.
You let out a soft ‘brr’, resting your arm across his chest. “Wow, you’re actually freezing. How did you sleep before?”
“...I would stoke the fireplace until there was enough heat to reach my bed.” He explained, though there was a sheepish tone to his voice. “Lilia has told me I’m no longer allowed to do that.”
“I’m kind of scared to ask, but why not?”
“The carpet caught on fire.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’ll do it, I guess…” You trailed off, silently laughing, (and subsequently failing).
Sebek was a bit stiff at first, but the more you cuddled into him, the more relaxed he seemed to be. Eventually, he even put his arm around you, pulling you a bit closer to him under the guise of ‘being cold’. His chest rose and fell with each of his breaths, and you could feel him getting warmer the more you clung onto him. Despite his hesitation at first, his arm was like a wall against your back, making sure that you stayed close to him and didn’t pull away.
“Good night…” He mumbled, seeming to be on the edge of sleep.
“G’night, sleep well…”
♡♡♡
“Oho? What’s this?” Your eyes opened at the sound of a voice, your vision blurry and unfocused. You pushed yourself up a bit, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, and-
“Gah!! Lilia?!” You yelped, which only made him laugh directly in your face as he floated above you, his hair hanging down.
“I wasn’t aware we were having sleepovers now!” He smiled down at both of you, Sebek still sound asleep at your side.
“Sebek invited me since he couldn’t sleep from being so cold.” You explained, a bit embarrassed at being caught by Lilia. You weren’t necessarily doing anything bad, but still…
“Ahh, the rug incident. I suppose that’s fair then. Well, breakfast is ready whenever you’d like, little ones!” With that threat, he disappeared, leaving you alone with Sebek.
You contemplated waking him up to try and salvage breakfast, but the way he looked when he was sleeping…his face was so relaxed, and he seemed so comfortable…
You laid down next to him, snuggling into his side again.
Just five more minutes.
a/n: Hiiii thank you so much for requesting !! i ended up making it gender neutral just bc i didn't end up using any gendered terms :P hope thats alright !! this is a bit of a shorter one, just because ... idk. my brain . hehe . I HOPE YOU ENJOYED HEHE OK BYE
Summary: Ruggie’s birthday photoshoot ends with you deciding the only logical next step is to ruin Ruggie's makeup and he doesn't exactly put up a fight.
a/n: who had the most kissable lips in twisted wonderland and why is it Ruggie Bucchi.
You have seen Ruggie in a lot of states.
You've seen him sweaty from Spelldrive practice, uniform half-untucked, hair a complete disaster. You've seen him elbow-deep in whatever he's currently cooking, completely in his element and refusing to let you taste anything until it's done.
You've seen him half-asleep against your shoulder on the way back from Leona's errands, grumbling about his aching feet. You know what he looks like at his most comfortable and his most exhausted and every state in between.
Ruggie’s looks can be lethal when he tries. You knew this. You knew this better than anyone and you knew that his birthday was coming up and he was supposed to have his birthday shoot. But still. Your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when you finally got a good look at that whole fit now that the shoot was finished and you both somehow ended up in your room.
The jacket is red —deep, rich red, the kind that looks expensive— with gold embroidery running up the front and along the sleeves in elaborate curling patterns. The collar sits high and neat against his throat.
And his hair, still that sandy-blonde that refuses to lie flat, still a little tousled at the crown in a way that probably can't be helped. But someone has taken the front section and pinned it back. Three small clips over his bangs, tucking his bangs just enough to open up his face.
There's something on his lashes too. Something subtle, just enough to make his eyes look sharper. He's leaning against the wall with his cheek propped in one hand, watching you take all of this in, and the expression on his face is one you recognize intimately.
"You're starin'," he says.
"I'm looking," you say, which is not a defense.
"Same thing."
It is, unfortunately, the same thing. You are very much looking.
"Your hair," you say.
Something flickers across his face. Not quite embarrassment, but almost. "What about it.”
"You look good…" you start.
He smirks. Of course he does. He probably stood in front of a mirror with those pins between his fingers and thought ‘yeah. This'll do it.’ The smile at the corner of his mouth has that particular smug smile. Speaking of his lips, it looks incredibly delicious, lip gloss lightly shining under the room’s lights.
“We’re done with the shoot, right?”
You could tell he was caught of guard because his ears stood slightly “…yeah, why?”
“I’m going to ruin your make up.” You take his face in both hands and kiss him before he can reply.
He makes a sound against your mouth —surprised, a little breathless. He tenses up for a moment then you feel him smile against your lips. He kisses you back properly. He tasted faintly sweet, the lip gloss transferring soft and slick between you.
You press closer. His back against the wall. His hand finds from your wrist an it trails up your arm, he tilts his head, and the kiss deepens without either of you deciding it. His teeth catch your lower lip and you make a small sound before you can stop it.
You feel him exhale through his nose. Satisfied. Insufferable. You bite back. You hear him let out a small moan, the sound coaxing out a grin from you.
He pulls away just enough to look at you, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and considerably more wrecked than they were a minute ago. He frowns slightly at your comeback but teases anyway,
“got you a little excited, huh?”
You roll your eyes at his comment, then tugs at his jacket, "This jacket is a problem."
“Careful that’s expensive.” You see his lips turn into a frown again, you double down with a pout of your own.
“Now that look’s just cheating. You want it off or somethin’?” Oh that smug smile is back, the smile that makes you want to devour him —or the other way around. Anything works.
“You’ll take it off?” You take him up on his offer.
He moves fast, slips out of your grip and flips your positions in one smooth motion, your back meeting the wall with a soft thud, his arm braced beside your head. "Whoa there," he snickers. "Calm down."
“Stop playing around.”
You see his ears fold slightly, seemingly taken aback by your stern tone. Oh dang you were serious about ruining his make up.
“Don’t have anymore shoots here. But you’re going to have to compensate me, yeah?” He shrugs, you could feel his breath against your skin with how close he is.
“Doesn’t sound like a problem.” Your mirror that smug smile of his, gaze locking on him. Then his eyes flutter close as he leans in to kiss you again.
Ruggie idea but imagine him literally trading favors the pc for head pats or petting his tail. Ruggie totally tries to make it sound like he's doing them a favor but nah he craves this.
Thank you for the request! Here you go~~ (Word Count: 2198)
The first time it happened, you didn’t think anything of it. You were alone in the rain, having locked yourself out of Ramshackle. Not that being in that old building would have helped much, considering the leaking you’d discovered the previous storm… Regardless, you’d decided to hunker down in a partially quiet corner of campus and hope that none of the ruder students would find you.
As if sent by that very hope, Ruggie had shown up. He came in like he always did, a smirk on his face and a gleam in his eye that announced who his next target was. He didn’t have an umbrella, but he seemed to have nabbed someone’s coat because the one he held above his head was much larger.
“Heya, Prefect.” He greets, walking up to you with the practiced confidence of an experienced salesman preparing to sell you the worst set of knives and magic rings in your life. “What’re you doing out of the dorm, huh?” He questioned.
“Grim wanted to come here earlier, so I gave him the key but now he’s sleeping and I can’t get in…” You grumble, gesturing at the window. Grim was there, curled up like the tiny cat he was on the couch. You could probably wake him up, but you’d have to yell, and you weren’t ready to deal with cleaning up the firepower produced by a spooked Grim.
Before you could consider if you should find a broken window to jump through, Ruggie bumped your shoulder into his. “You know where the door’s not locked? Savanaclaw.” He did jazz hands with only one hand, a halfhearted attempt at adding some excitement into his mocking. You frowned at him, making him laugh some more. “Hey, hey, I’m just offering!”
“What’s the catch?” You deadpanned. Nothing he did came without something in it for him, but he still feigned hurt by placing a hand over his chest.
“Me? A catch?” He dramatically asked, before smiling again. “Well, I am a catch, thank you for noticing. And all you have to do is one tiny little task for me!” He grinned, “I’ve been meaning to groom myself, but it takes a bunch of work. You’ll do it for me, won’t you? Just like brushing a dog.” He offered, “I’ll even convince Leona to buy both of us dinner with that big wallet with us.” He winked like it was a joke you both were in on.
You waited for only a second and a few more drops of rain to fall on your head before you agreed, walking with him under that big umbrella of his. Shelter was shelter when it was raining cats and dogs.
You wondered for a moment if grooming had any greater meaning to beastfolk, before deciding against it. Then, you decided you didn’t care. Free shelter was free shelter, and the idea of swindling Leona into buying you dinner was more than enough to convince you to follow him.
The second time, it’s a bit stranger. You’d assumed he was more selfish than that– You’d assumed all of NRC was pretty selfish, in fact– But it seems that he wasn’t. Or, at least, he was waiting until you had a debt so large to him you’d do anything he wanted. Either was plausible.
Still, he handed you a donut while you were in the library. You take it from him cautiously, sniffing it once. “Poison?” You ask, as if he’d actually tell you if it was. Instead, he just laughs and shakes his head.
“Nah, don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’d choose better means to poison you if I wanted to.” He smiled, his sharp canines on display, and you waited for a moment before speaking up again.
“What do you want in return?” You question, unable to let go of your suspicion. He shrugs.
“I’ve got this bad itch on my tail, been there all day. Can you get it for me, Prefect?” He asked, batting his eyelashes in feigned innocence. Well, it was a good enough deal for you.
You pat your lap, a silent gesture for him to get on. He raises an eyebrow, but willingly takes a seat and waits for you to pet his tail.
You finish the donut and go back to studying before he moves, and even then, it’s only to adjust his grip from your shoulders to your waist. You’re not sure what PDA rules the school has, but you’re sure you’re breaking at most of them.
Still, you like your partner in crime, and he’s fluffy enough that you don’t mind petting him while you get your work done.
By the third time, it’s a pattern. You raised an eyebrow when he approached you, all grins and snickers. He crouched down next to you, putting a hand on either side of his face like it would make him look cuter. It kind of worked.
“So, what’cha doing down there, Prefect?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You groaned, rubbing your back. You didn’t even want to remember it…
“Goose.” You bitterly muttered. It was a horrible, horrible goose. You’d been peacefully eating lunch outside when it had appeared, all feathers and talons in its evil, webbed feet. They were more wicked than the platypus, more murderous than Grim when you pet his tiny little belly a bit too much. They did nothing but kill and steal, and this one had done its work remarkably efficiently.
It had stolen your sandwich. Your precious, amazing sandwich. It was a delicious sandwich, the best sandwich in the world. It was a gift from Crewel after you helped him that morning since none of the other ungrateful students here would assist. It had layers of flavor. Beautiful flavor.
And the goose had stolen it from you. It didn’t even hesitate. It had taken it and killed your will to live within minutes. You didn’t even need to tell Ruggie the entire story. He just looked in your eyes and knew that you would never be the same.
But like an angel descended from heaven, he put an energy bar in your hand. You stared up at him, unable to vocalize your true thankfulness at his kind gesture, but it’s okay. He ruined the moment anyway when he sat next to you and opened his big, fat mouth.
“You lost a fight to a goose? Really?” He snickered, before leaning over to you. You glare at him and open your energy bar, taking a bite. Ruggie, without warning, plops his head into your lap.
“What are you doing?” You poke his head. He grabs your hand and moves it toward his ears, tsking you like you’re a stubborn child.
“It’s the petting tax. I’m doing you a favor, just don’t get crumbs on me.” He got settled again, stuffing his face into your thigh.
You give him a few scratches on his ears and play with his hair, and it only takes him a few minutes before he’s melted into your lap. You giggle quietly, trying not to interrupt his relaxing time. His tail was wagging.
The fourth time he does it? You hardly bat an eye. This is your routine now. He just walks in and hands you a couple of items, sometimes actually useful, sometimes not, and you pet him.
Your bag when you forgot it in the library? There’s head pats for his trouble.
Food because you skipped lunch to help set up an unbirthday party? Scratches behind the ears for you, King.
The notes you missed because you were too busy cleaning up after Ace and Deuce's most recent absolute disaster? You would die before denying the chance to brush his tail.
When he brings you potted plants full of flowering vegetables and helps you set them up in your kitchen, you’re pretty sure he’s about to frame you for stealing, but you accept them anyway. It would just feel wrong not to.
Besides, he has good taste in movies, and you don’t really need to listen to them as long as you’re holding him on the couch. He falls asleep midway through most of them, anyway.
You don’t think you’re that comfy to sleep on, but he purrs in his sleep, so you guess you’re doing something right.
By the end of the month, he doesn’t even need to ask. He just walks up to you and plops onto your lap in the center of the cafeteria, placing a single candy bar onto your, admittedly pretty plain, lunch of rice and the cheapest soup on the menu. None of the other first years even had the chance to make their usual show of giving you “leftovers” that definitely hadn’t been bought just for you before your hands were on Ruggie, petting his ears like he was your childhood pet. The first years, currently just Ace and Deuce due to everyone else having to help their housewardens out or study for exams, didn’t even take a moment before staring at you like you’d grown a second head.
“So,” Deuce coughed, preparing to engage in casually hinting at a subject to get the other person to say more. It was a very advanced kind of social interaction. Unfortunately for Deuce, he was very bad at social interaction. “Ruggie, huh?” He asked. The second-year in question opened his eyes lazily to squint at the hopeless boy.
“Yeah?” He asked, yawning.
“You exist!” He announced to the room with so much excitement it was like he was announcing his firstborn child. Ruggie just shrugged.
“What else am I supposed to do?” He asked, leaning his head against your shoulder. You began petting his ears, a mostly subconscious gesture.
“Guess I’ll just take my Prefect over to Savanaclaw instead.” He stuck his tongue out at Ace. It would have been a show of childishness, if Ace hadn’t stuck his tongue out back and proved that everyone in this school was a child.
You flicked his forehead in retaliation. “Don’t be mean, Ace…” You muttered, opening up your candy bar to begin eating. You offered Ruggie a bite, which he took with the flair of someone fully prepared to start a war at that lunch table.
“I’m not being mean!” The redhead insisted, “I’m just pointing out the obvious! Juice and I–”
“His name is still Deuce.” You interrupted. He glared at you.
“Mr. Koolaid Man and I are your best friends, and we’re not allowed to sit on your lap and eat your chocolate! The last time I tried, you bit me!”
“I’d do it again.” You affirmed, nodding at his points casually. You bit into your chocolate bar again, and Ruggie just wrapped his arms around you, holding you like a koala. “Ruggie’s just special.”
“So, are you, like, dating or what?” Ace asked, rolling his eyes like the concept of someone else being allowed to eat your food personally offended his entire worldview.
“Nah.” You replied. Ruggie nodded against your neck, his ears tickling your chin. You were pretty sure he was only half paying attention, but you didn’t mind much. After all, he fell asleep on you all the time. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
Ace and Deuce didn’t seem to believe you, but they let it slide, at least for now. You were silently a bit grateful for that. They were your friends, but they could be a bit nosy sometimes.
That night, Ruggie is laying on your couch again, cuddling you like he always did. You were scrolling on your phone, both staring at it mindlessly. There wasn’t really a need for
“Hey,” He started, “I saw this new café is opening in town. There’s a discount for students.” You tossed your phone onto the couch, dutifully ignored once something more interesting came up.
“You wanna go?” You asked, leaning into the top of his head. He smelled kind of like pine needles and burnt caramel. It was uniquely him in a way that you had always liked.
“Nah. We’re both broke.” He replied, shoving his face into his chest. He was very cuddly today, more than he was most of the time. You kissed the top of his head absentmindedly.
“Cool,” You remarked, “Maybe I’ll make you something.” Ruggie snorted.
“I bet you’re a horrible cook. You look like you burn everything you touch.” You hit him lightly, just enough to make him snicker, his warm breath against your collarbone.
“You’ve never had my homemade meals, Mr. Gourmet. I could be the best chef you’ve ever met.”
“Come on, you were supposed to ask me why I thought you’d burn it!” He insisted, grinning despite the hit. You smiled and nodded, letting him continue. “It’s ‘cause you’re hot.” He winked teasingly. You put a hand over his mouth, laughing with your head tilted back.
He put his face back into your skin and just rested there, feeling the vibrations of your voice wash over his face. By the Seven, you were oblivious…
Oh well. You were good enough at petting him that he didn’t care.
Could I please request a oneshot for sebek? Something cute and fluffy! Maybe its about him and mc just crushing on each other BAD..and like theyre studying together but neither can focus due to them just being down bad for the other..
❝ studying with my crush...what could go wrong? ❞ .✦ ݁˖
↪ pairing: sebek zigvolt/gn!reader
As usual, it was hard for you to focus.
While arriving in an entirely different world was one of the most insane things to happen to you, you’ve managed to somehow make it a true home, making connections and having friends you knew you could rely on if anything ever happened, (which is less of an if, and more of a when, in your case). You had basically been thrust into somewhere completely strange and new, and you’ve managed to make the best out of it, you think.
Maybe a little too well.
You’re trying your best here, you really are, but it’s really hard to focus on History of Magic of all things when Sebek is sitting right across from you, his eyebrows slightly pulled together in an adorably confused expression. The end of his pencil was resting on his cheek, making it squish just the right amount that you swore he was acting cute on purpose.
It had started with small things that you could excuse at first: the way your heart stuttered when he called your name in his rather loud voice, the way you couldn’t help but admire the shine in his eyes when he talked about Malleus, the way he secretly was a big softie to his horse, (which you probably weren’t supposed to see, but you were so glad you did).
You’re not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way you had realized that the margins of your notebooks were filled with little doodles of Sebek and with countless prints of his name, and embarrassingly enough, they were also filled with your name paired with his last name.
Yeah, you were down bad.
When Sebek had invited you to study with him in the library a few weeks prior, of course you accepted almost immediately! It was rare for you to be able to spend time with him without the rest of the first-years, so you had jumped at the opportunity. It had been a lovely study session, with Sebek having to speak in a lower tone due to being in the library, (which did something to your heart) so you considered it very successful!
Minus the fact that you didn’t actually complete any work.
When he had proposed weekly study sessions ‘for productivity!!’ you of course immediately agreed again, fully knowing that you would just be spending three hours in the library unable to focus every single time. In your defense, you really do try but…
“I must perform perfectly…for Waka-sama…” Sebek mumbled, his eyes completely focused on the pages in front of him. You had to press your lips together to keep from smiling, your gaze now fixed on him instead of your textbook. It was a rare sight for you to see Sebek so silently focused on something, given he was usually quite talkative and loud, (which you found rather charming).
Focus, (Y/N)!
Your eyes flitted back to your own workspace, your measly three sentences in your notes reflecting how distracted you really were. It was a bit embarrassing to think that you were crushing on Sebek so hard you couldn’t even study, but at the same time, it was nice to have a sense of normalcy in your life outside of running errands for Crowley or dealing with whatever disaster the school goes through next.
You quietly tapped your pencil on your paper, biting the inside of your cheek. The library was relatively empty at this hour, with most of the students returning back to their dorms for the night, leaving you and Sebek alone in the section of the library you two were in.
Oh, there goes my motivation…
“Urgh…” Sebek groaned, his hand going to his forehead in what seemed to be distress.
You looked at him in concern, setting your pencil down. “Sebek…are you okay?”
“No!” He exclaimed, his voice echoing throughout the library. A ‘shh!’ from the direction of the librarian desk made him grumble, his ears turning pink in embarrassment. “I…can’t focus.” You giggled at his words, (did he have to be so cute all the time?!) making him glare at you. “What is so funny?!” He whisper-yelled, doing his best to keep a lower volume.
“Nothing, sorry! I can’t focus either though…” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders at him. “It happens. Is it a topic you don’t understand, or you’re just done for today?”
Sebek seemed to think for a moment, his eyes looking over at his notebook. The confused look on his face was priceless to you, but…
You stood up from your chair, walking around the table to Sebek’s side and leaning down on the table next to him to peer over his textbook. “Defensive Magic, huh?” You murmured, flipping through some of the textbook’s pages to see what topic he was struggling with, (perhaps your arm brushing against him was a bit too much, but you couldn’t help yourself). “Even though I can’t use magic, I still understand the concepts pretty well. Do you want me to explain some of-?”
“I-I do not require assistance from you!” Sebek interrupted, scooting his chair away from you. You frowned at this, putting your hands up in defeat.
“Hey, I was just asking.” You pouted, a bit disappointed at his reaction. “Let me at least take a look at your notes, I can add some things that helped me…” You reached for his notebook, unable to see the sudden panic in his eyes as he tried to grab it back from you.
“W-Wait! I did not allow you to go through my things, human!” He exclaimed, his voice echoing throughout the library once again.
“Relax, Sebek. I won’t make fun of you for drawing Malleus all over your notebook, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You teased, reaching for a pencil as you flipped through to where his notes started for Defense Magic.
“I don’t-?! Nevermind, give it back!”
“It’s just two sentences and I’ll give it…back…to you…” You trailed off as you stared at the pages of his notebook. While there were regular notes on them, the margins were full of your name in his neat, loopy handwriting. You looked down at him, surprise evident on your face as you felt heat begin to rush into your cheeks.
The sight before you was one you wanted to burn into your memory.
Sebek had a hand covering the lower half of his face, his slightly squished cheeks and ears now a bright shade of red as he kept his gaze fixed on the ground, doing everything he could to not look at you.
“You…”
“Give it back!” You let him snatch the notebook away from you, still staring at him in shock. Sebek closed the notebook quite forcefully, abruptly standing up from his chair and beginning to pack his things rather quickly.
“Sebek-”
“I have duties I must attend to, so I will be taking my leave now!”
“Wait!”
“Farewell-”
“I said wait!” You interrupted, grabbing his wrist to keep him from leaving. While he most definitely could have released himself from your grip, he didn’t. When you were sure he wasn’t going to move, you leaned over the table to take your own notebook, flipping through it until you reached a somewhat mild page, (a page only including his name, you weren’t sure you wanted to show the extents of your daydreaming just yet). You thrust it in his direction, forcing him to look at it.
“What…what is this…?” He questioned, his voice a bit shaky as his eyes examined the page.
“What do you think?” You remarked sarcastically, waiting for him to realize. “Why do you think I haven’t been able to focus?” He doesn’t say anything in response, instead staring at the margins of your notebook. You swore you were having heart palpitations right now; this was not the turn of events you were expecting, and you had no idea what his reaction would be.
Please don’t think I’m weird…
“You…” Sebek started, then stopped, his lips pressed together.
“I?” You questioned, trying to urge him to say the rest of his sentence. He shook his head, running his hand through his hair in what seemed to be distress, (how he was able to do that with all the hair gel in it, you’ll never know).
“You…would you…like to accompany me to Sam’s…? I require ingredients for dinner…” He managed to get out, stumbling over some of his words. He still refused to look at you, his embarrassment quite evident from the rosy hue on his face.
“Sure.” He finally met your gaze when you agreed, his eyes wide with shock. You only smiled at him, feeling as though you were walking on the clouds of heaven. “What are you waiting for?”
“Wha…Right…Yes! Let’s depart!” Sebek stumbled over his words again, but puffed up at the last moment, his usual proud smile back on his face as though nothing had happened. You tugged on your notebook that was still in his hand, but he still held it firmly in his grip, making you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Can I have my notebook back?”
“Are there more pages?” He suddenly asked, keeping the notebook in his hands.
“Uh…” You trailed off, a bit hesitant to answer his question, (the gleam in his eyes was so cute though…).
“May I see?”
“M-Maybe later…?”
“I will hold you to that, human.” He let go of the notebook, a satisfied smile on his face.
He’s so cute.
a/n: AAHH my first request in soooo long ty for requesting anon !! i've actually never written anything for sebek, so hopefully this is alright !! i feel like if he had a crush on a human he would try and hide it, but if they like him back he would be super happy ^^ but since i don't have much experience writing him this is a bit shorter aahh also b/c i dont wanna write super long things rn w the jade story still in continuation :P EEKK ty for requesting anon you were the first request to come throughhh and this was so cute <333
hi my love do you have any paw print dividers kicking around in your library please? I’ve tried to search but no luck, didn’t know if I was missing the obvious! Thank you ily!!
hi hi avo! 💖 I don’t have a set specifically for them but I pulled the ones I’ve posted from some animal sets! are these ok?
(if you’d like a specific color I could edit these!)
hi there. your dividers are so so great. I was wondering if you could please do a set like the art nouveau set you have, but cool colors? So blue, green, and maybe a little less bright? Thank you and hope you're we'll. 🌿
ahh thank you so much! 💕 and oooh yes that would be pretty! I updated these to green/blue and muted the tones 💖 hope you’re having a good week!
amandla
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
blakekathryn
vaporwave
