#because I'm just not really the correct person to write it

[wbbfannnnnn13]

Motion Sick // Chapter 1

pazzi series

Theme: homoerotic friendship in all it's messy glory... iykyk

A/N: My personal life is a hot mess and I needed to write some therapeutic angst. Not sure where this story is going to go, but it's going to be a slow burn, it'll get better eventually because I'm a hopeless romantic. I just don't know how often I'll update -- might depend on whether you like this or not?

Warnings: cussing

WC: 4.6K

**** Chapter 1 ****

The coffee isn’t working.

Paige knows this not because she’s finished half of it and still feels like her brain is running three seconds behind her body, but because she’s staring into the murky liquid like it holds some kind of cosmic answer, and all it’s doing is making her feel more nauseous. She shifts in the seat, blinking against the way-too-bright lights of the student center, her sweatshirt hood half-draped over her head in an attempt to block out the world.

Regret is a funny thing. It always hits in layers.

First, there’s the easy kind of regret—the kind you can trace back to one stupid choice. She shouldn’t have had that last tequila shot. Or the one before it. Honestly, she probably shouldn’t have gone out at all. But at 8:47 p.m., Amari had sent a text that just said “Thirsty Thursday 😈” and Paige barely hesitated.

She didn’t even respond. Just stood up, grabbed the cleanest jeans off her floor, and smeared on some mascara with the same mechanical energy she used to lace up sneakers before a game. Her limbs moved before her brain could argue. And maybe that was the point—maybe she didn’t want to think too hard about it. About what staying in meant. About how quiet her room had gotten lately. About how it’s easier to make noise than sit with silence.

So she went.

Now it’s 8:43 a.m., and her body feels like it was hit by a bus named Jose Cuervo.

She slumps lower in the armchair, tugging her hood a little tighter, phone glowing dimly in her palm as she scrolls Instagram reels she won’t remember watching. Somewhere in her peripheral vision, someone drops a backpack too hard and her head pulses. Everything feels too loud. Too sharp.

She should be in the gym. Correction: she wants to be in the gym. Correction: she can’t be in the gym.

Not really, anyway.

Her knee aches again, like it always does when she thinks too hard about the way things were supposed to go. It’s not the sharp pain anymore—just this low, nagging throb that lives there now, like a shadow she can’t shake. A ghost of the season she was meant to have. She shifts in the chair, trying to stretch it out, but nothing helps. Not really.

It’s junior year. The year she was supposed to lead. The year they were supposed to run it back, take what almost was and turn it into what should’ve been. She’d played through pain last spring, limping through the tournament with one leg and a lot of adrenaline, and she’d still nearly gotten them there. This year was meant to be the redemption. The banner year. Twelve.

But instead, she’s sitting in the student center at 8:47 a.m., head pounding, sweatshirt wrinkled and smelling vaguely like someone else's perfume—she doesn’t remember who, and she doesn’t care enough to figure it out. Half-hungover. Tired in a way sleep won’t fix. And mad at the world. Or maybe just at herself. She can’t tell the difference anymore.

The scroll continues. Likes. Highlights. People pretending their lives are together.

She thinks about turning her phone off. Maybe skipping class altogether. What’s one more absence in Family Interaction Processes? The idea of sitting in a circle and talking about “attachment theory in parent-child relationships” feels laughable. She can’t even attach to her own future right now.

So yeah. Maybe she just… won’t go.

Then it happens.

The laugh.

It floats in, sharp and sudden, before the doors even fully open. Light and familiar. Too familiar.

Paige’s stomach flips, slow and mean. Her hand freezes mid-scroll.

She doesn’t even have to look to know.

But of course she does.

Her head lifts before she can stop it��eyes flicking toward the entrance on pure reflex.

And there she is. Azzi.

Like the universe knew Paige was already on the verge of spiraling, and thought, you know what would be funny? Let’s really f**k her up today.

There’s a beat—maybe two—where Paige just watches. Where time slows, and everything else in the room goes fuzzy around the edges.

Azzi strolls in like a damn movie scene. Hair pulled back in that effortless way that always drove Paige crazy. UConn warmup hoodie unzipped just enough to reveal the fitted black crop top underneath. Surrounded by a crew of teammates like they’re all just living their best lives on a sunny Friday morning.

And then there’s him.

Derrick Fucking Jones.

Paige’s lip twitches before she can stop it. Of course he’s here. Of course he’s walking beside her—no, with her. Hand in hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like they fit. Like it’s always been him. And Azzi’s smiling—really smiling—like he just said something that made her laugh from the center of her chest.

It looks easy. Simple. The kind of moment you’d catch at the end of a movie, all golden light and soft focus, two people falling into step like it’s meant to be.

And Paige? She’s the one on the outside looking in. The one they cut to for a second too long—the sad ex in the background, watching it all unfold like a scene she was never written into.

Azzi laughs at something he says. The one Paige used to hear at 2 a.m., soft and sleepy, tangled somewhere between sheets and skin and promises they never said out loud. The one she could pull out with the dumbest joke, a look across the room, a meme sent with a single word: you.

And now it’s his. Or at least, it’s being directed at him. Her whole face lights up, dimples and all.

Paige feels the ache like a bruise being pressed. Old and buried, but never healed.

She yanks her hood further down, like maybe if she folds herself into this chair hard enough, they’ll all just walk past her. She’s not in the mood to play catch-up. Or pretend she’s okay. Or fake-smile through a conversation when she’s actively fighting the urge to throw up.

Her phone’s still in her lap, but her fingers have gone numb. Heart climbing somewhere into her throat.

And that’s when it happens—Aubrey spots her.

Of course, it’s Aubrey. Loud, observant, well-meaning Aubrey, who probably didn’t think twice before saying something to the group.

Paige doesn’t have to hear it to know. She sees the slight shift in posture. Aubrey’s arm gesturing. Caroline looking over next. Then Derrick. Then—

Azzi.

Their eyes meet like magnets that forgot how to unstick. And for a second, it’s like Paige forgets how to breathe.

Azzi’s smile fades. Just a flicker. Barely enough to catch unless you were looking for it.

And Paige always is.

There’s too much history in that split-second glance. Too many late nights and drawn-out silences. Too many “what are we?” conversations that circled the truth but never landed. Too much that was never said out loud, and even more that was.

And now all of it lives right there in the space between them.

Unsaid. Unresolved.

Unmistakable.

Paige forces herself to move.

She stands slowly, her knee stiff and unforgiving, throbbing in rhythm with the headache pounding behind her eyes. A full-body reminder of every bad decision she made last night—staying out too late, drinking too much. She grabs her coffee like it’s armor, like maybe it can steady her hands or mask the way she’s unraveling from the inside out. 

She nods once in their direction—cool, detached, like yeah, I see you but we’re not doing this today—and tips the cup toward them in a mock toast.

Then she walks.

Or limps, technically, but she’s trying real hard to make it look like swagger.

As she passes, the space between her and Azzi feels like static. Like the second she crosses the invisible threshold of proximity, the whole world holds its breath.

Azzi looks at her.

Paige looks back.

She wishes she hadn’t.

Azzi’s expression is unreadable, but her eyes are soft. And maybe that’s worse.

Paige doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t let herself feel the full weight of the eye contact burning into her back.

She does, however, catch Caroline’s voice—sharp and way too loud:

“Damn. She looks like shit.”

Cool. Thanks for that.

Paige clenches her jaw, ignoring the way her stomach turns again. She tightens her grip on her coffee and pushes through the student center doors like they wronged her personally.

She doesn’t stop walking until she’s out in the cold morning air, hoodie still half on, knee screaming, heart pounding, and the bitter taste of coffee and something much worse lingering at the back of her throat.

Paige exhales a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in. It’s shaky. Sharp. Cuts through her chest like glass.

She presses a hand to her stomach. Something tight coils low—nausea, regret, grief, shame. Could be all four. Her mouth tastes like acid and disappointment.

Why do I feel like I’m gonna throw up?

Is it the tequila still hanging around like an unwanted party guest? The venti iced coffee churning in her gut like cement? Or is it just—Azzi?

She blinks hard against the sunlight and veers left, scanning frantically for somewhere—anywhere—to get sick without making a scene. Her eyes land on a trash can just outside the library steps.

Barely makes it.

She leans over, hoodie sleeves bunched at her wrists, and throws up everything—coffee, milk, espresso, and whatever fragments of composure she had left. It comes up quick and bitter, and when it’s over, she’s left with her palms braced on the concrete, breathing heavy and eyes stinging.

Perfect. Really killing it today.

“Uh—are you okay?”

A voice. Neutral. Some kid in a beanie, looking mildly alarmed and also deeply unsure of what to do.

“I’m fine,” Paige mutters, wiping her mouth with the inside of her sleeve. “Bad coffee.”

The kid nods slowly, backing away like she might infect him with whatever brand of chaos she’s carrying.

Paige doesn’t blame him.

She stands, barely, and starts walking. Not toward class. Not toward anything productive.

Just… away.

Screw Family Interaction Processes. Screw being seen. Screw this whole damn morning.

Her dorm is too warm when she gets back. Too still. That kind of suffocating quiet that makes your thoughts louder. She peels off her hoodie, kicks off her sneakers, and crawls into bed fully clothed.

Head against the pillow. Eyes closed.

Please. Just an hour of sleep. A pause. A reset.

But her brain—traitor that it is—doesn’t cooperate.

Because of course it doesn’t.

Instead, like a scratched record, her mind queues up the scene she’s watched a thousand times before. Every blink brings it back sharper.

The night everything changed.

Paige turns over in bed, pulling the blanket over her head like it could block the memory out.

But it’s too late.

It’s already started playing.

One Year Ago

The lights inside Ted’s were low, but everything about Azzi still found a way to glow.

Paige leaned against the bar, half-sipping a drink she didn’t really want, the condensation soaking into her hand. The music was loud enough to drown out her thoughts—almost. The kind of bass-heavy, shoulder-to-shoulder chaos that used to feel like escape, but tonight just made her feel stuck. Like she couldn’t breathe right.

She spotted Azzi across the room before she even realized she was looking for her.

Same UConn hoodie. Same easy posture. That half-laugh she only gave to people who didn’t know how complicated she was underneath it all.

And then—him.

Some guy. Tall. Smiling at her like he was winning something. Paige had no idea who he was, and honestly, she didn’t care. All she could focus on was the way Azzi tilted her head back laughing at something he said. The way her hand brushed his arm as if it meant nothing. As if it always meant nothing.

Paige felt it in her chest—tight and sudden.

Not because it was new.

But because it wasn’t.

Because this had become a pattern. Azzi flirting with someone else while Paige watched from the sidelines—again. Because Azzi knew exactly where Paige was in the room and still chose to look right through her.

Her drink hit the bar a little too hard as she set it down, untouched.

No one noticed. Or maybe they did and chose not to say anything.

She pushed off the counter and started moving. Past the line for the bathroom, past the couple making out near the door, past the entire situation she never should’ve walked into in the first place.

And then—

The second the cool night air hit her skin, Paige felt like she might crack wide open.

She stormed out of Ted’s like the place had personally offended her, shoving through the crowd until she hit the sidewalk, breath fast, vision hot. The thrum of bass and clinking glasses still echoed behind her, but out here everything felt sharper—colder. Her hands were shaking.

She didn’t mean to make a scene. Didn’t mean to lose control like that.

But watching Azzi, lit up and laughing, leaning just a little too close to some guy Paige didn’t even recognize, it had knocked the air right out of her. Not because it was new, but because it wasn’t. Because it was the same game, the same script they’d been dancing around since high school, and Paige had finally hit her limit.

She was halfway down the block when the voice hit her.

“Paige?”

That voice.

God.

Azzi.

Of course she followed her.

Paige turned slowly, already regretting it. Azzi stood under the glow of a streetlight, one arm folded across her chest, the other gripping her phone like a lifeline. She looked concerned. Like genuinely worried.

And that made Paige want to scream.

“What?” Paige snapped, sharper than she intended.

Azzi blinked. “I just—saw you leave. You looked upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Paige scoffed. “Why? So you can feel better about yourself?”

Azzi flinched like she hadn’t expected that, and honestly, Paige hadn’t either. But the words were coming fast now, her heart racing to keep up with them.

“You don’t get to do this.”

Azzi stepped forward, cautiously. “What are you talking about?”

Paige laughed—sharp, bitter. “Seriously?”

She took a step closer, the emotion bubbling just beneath her skin now, too much to hold in.

“Do you even realize how messed up this is?” she asked, her voice shaking. “One night you’re in my bed like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and the next you’re out here acting like I don’t even exist.”

Azzi’s mouth parted slightly, stunned into silence.

“You hook up with me in secret, act like I’m yours when no one’s watching—and then you go out and flirt with guys like I don’t even fucking exist. You don’t get to be all over me in private and then play straight for the crowd. I’m not your secret. I’m not some backup plan you get to use when it’s easy.”

Azzi doesn’t respond right away.

She just stands there—frozen, blinking like she’s still catching up. Like the words hit her late and hard, like a wave she didn’t see coming until it knocked the air out of her.

Her mouth opens, then closes. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, arms crossed tightly across her chest like she’s trying to hold something in.

And Paige could see it in her eyes—the empathy, the sadness—but also something else. Distance. Like Azzi had already decided this was the only version of them that could exist, and Paige had just never caught on.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” she says quietly. “I swear to God, Paige, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Paige scoffs under her breath, turns half away like she can’t stand to hear it.

Azzi swallows. “I know I’ve been selfish. I know I’ve made this messy and confusing and not fair to you. But I wasn’t trying to use you. I just…”

She trails off, voice cracking on the last word.

Azzi’s voice hangs in the air between them, fragile and trembling. Paige wants to believe her—wants to reach for that version of the truth where none of it was intentional. 

But it doesn’t change what it felt like. What it still feels like.

She shakes her head slowly, the words slipping out before she can stop them.

“I can't keep doing this,” she says, voice rough. “This emotional whiplash. I’m getting motion sickness from it. And I’m exhausted, Azzi. I can’t keep pretending that this—we—doesn’t mess me up.”

Azzi didn’t move. Didn’t argue.

And that—more than anything—was her answer.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

She turned, slow and steady, and walked back toward the bar.

And Paige stood there alone on the sidewalk, chest cracked wide open, watching the one person she wanted most walk away without a fight.

She didn’t chase her.

She couldn’t.

Because this time, Azzi had let her go just as easily as she’d kept her.

Present Day

She blinks back into the dim light of her dorm room like she’s just resurfaced from underwater.

The memory clings to her like humidity—dense, sticky, impossible to shake. It sits in her chest, thick like smoke she can’t cough out, creeping up her throat every time she lets her guard down. Her stomach twists again—not from the hangover, not from the too-sweet coffee still curdling in her system, but from the weight of everything she’s been trying not to feel since that night outside Ted’s. The words she said. The ones she didn’t. The way Azzi looked at her—like she’d broken something that was already cracked and didn’t even know how to begin fixing it.She pulls the blanket tighter over her body, like it might shield her from the past. From herself. From Azzi.

I’m tired of this, Azzi.

She meant it. God, she meant it.

And yet—here she is, a year later, still tired. Still aching. Still wondering what would’ve happened if Azzi had said anything else besides “okay.”

The room feels too still, too quiet. Her hoodie smells like stale bar air and regret. Her phone buzzes somewhere in the sheets, but she doesn’t reach for it. She already knows it’s no one she wants it to be.

Azzi never texts anymore. Not unless it’s something team-related. Logistics. Group chats. Nothing personal. Nothing that says I miss you.

And now she’s walking around campus, hand-in-hand with Derrick fucking Jones, like none of it happened. Like Paige hadn’t handed her every vulnerable part of herself just to be told—okay.

She turns over onto her side, wincing as her knee twinges sharply beneath the blanket. Another lovely souvenir from the universe.

Not playing this season was supposed to feel temporary—just a detour. But watching Azzi from across the student center this morning, laughing like she didn’t feel anything at all, made Paige wonder if she’s the only one who ever thought they were more than a phase.

She stares at the wall, blank and gray and safe.

Paige has always been good at powering through. Rehabbing, recovering, restarting. But this? This emotional limbo? This silent ache every time she sees Azzi across campus, like a ghost of the future she wanted?

She doesn’t know how to push through that.

She exhales slowly and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes until all she sees are stars.

Maybe she should sleep. Maybe she’ll wake up and it won’t hurt as much. Maybe by tomorrow Azzi will just be her ex-best friend with a new boyfriend and Paige will finally start to mean it when she says she’s over it.

Maybe.

But for now, she just lies there.

Wishing she hadn’t looked up in the student center. Wishing she hadn’t left Ted’s that night. Wishing, most of all, that she could forget what it felt like when they still felt like a “what if” instead of a “never.”

Azzi

Azzi shouldn’t have looked.

She knew Paige was there the second Aubrey nodded toward the corner booth. Felt it like static in her chest. Knew it in the same bone-deep way she used to know when Paige was about to pass her the ball—without words, without warning, just felt it.

And still, she looked.

Paige, hood pulled halfway down her face, coffee in hand, eyes dull like she hadn’t slept. Azzi didn’t need the commentary—Caroline muttering “She looks like shit” under her breath—to know how wrecked she was.

Paige had just stood, nodded toward them like they were strangers on a train, and walked off.

But she looked right at her.

That look.

The same look Azzi has tried and failed to forget for months. The one from that night outside Ted’s. The one she sees in her dreams when it’s late and quiet and her chest feels too tight to breathe.

That look still haunts her. Because she remembers what came right before it.

“You don’t get to be all over me in private and then play straight for the crowd. I’m not your secret.”

God.

Azzi swallows hard, still tasting regret behind her teeth. It’s been a year, but sometimes it hits like it was yesterday. The way Paige’s voice cracked. The way Azzi didn’t stop her. Didn’t chase her. Didn’t say what she should’ve said, even if she didn’t fully understand it then.

Even now—especially now—she doesn’t know if it was fear or selfishness that held her back. Probably both.

Derrick squeezes her hand, pulling her back into the present. “You good?”

Azzi blinks, forces a small smile. “Yeah.”

He’s nice. Safe. Predictable. He doesn’t ask too many questions, and he doesn’t make her feel like she’s walking a tightrope with her own feelings. And she knows, somewhere deep down, that she doesn’t love him.

Not like that.

Not the way she—

She cuts off the thought before it finishes.

Not the way she used to look at Paige.

They’re walking into the dining hall now, the fluorescent lights making everything look too sharp. Too sterile. She nods along as Caroline starts talking about practice later, but the words blur. All she can think about is the way Paige looked this morning—like she was barely holding it together. Like seeing Azzi hurt more than she’d ever admit.

And that makes Azzi feel worse than anything.

Because the truth is, she hasn’t stopped thinking about her.

She’s tried.

She filled her time with practice and people and pretending. Tried to let Derrick kiss her and convince herself it didn’t feel wrong. Let herself believe that the silence between her and Paige was necessary. That it was better this way.

But every time she sees her—across campus, on social media, in her dreams—something twists in her chest. Guilt. Longing. All the words she never said and still don’t know how to.

She should’ve said something that night.

Anything besides “okay.”

Because the truth is, Paige wasn’t wrong. She had kept her close when it was convenient. When it was safe. She liked the way Paige made her feel—steady, known, loved. But Azzi hadn’t been brave enough to reach for it out loud.

And now?

Now she walks next to a boy whose hand she’s holding and feels like she’s living someone else’s life.

She pulls out her phone under the table, opens Paige’s contact without thinking, then locks the screen again before she can even type a word.

Nothing she says now will fix it. Not really.

But still—Azzi can’t help but wonder.

If she’d just said don’t go that night… would Paige have stayed?

They pass each other all the time.

At practice, in film sessions, on the sideline waiting for treatment. It’s not that they don’t acknowledge each other. There’s nods. The occasional "you good?" in the weight room. A tossed towel. A shared laugh when Coach Geno goes on one of his rants and no one knows if he's serious or just dramatic.

But they don’t talk. Not really.

Not the way they used to.

Not the 2 a.m. texts. Not the playlists they used to trade. Not the inside jokes over Chick-fil-A or the FaceTimes from opposite ends of campus just because they couldn’t go more than an hour without hearing each other’s voice.

Now it’s polite. Controlled. Measured.

And it kills Azzi slowly.

Because Paige doesn’t look at her the way she used to. Not with that open softness, that teasing spark. Now there’s just this guardedness. This distance. Like Azzi’s been put in a box and labeled handle with caution.

Azzi knows she did that. She built that wall between them. She told Paige without saying it that her love—whatever it was, whatever it could’ve been—was too much. Too risky. Too real.

And now she gets to live with the version of Paige that doesn’t look at her like she used to.

She looks right through me now.

At practice, it’s almost worse.

Because they click on the court. Always have.

Azzi knows where Paige is going before she moves. Paige cuts backdoor and Azzi bounces a pass without looking. They’re telepathic, instinctive, frustratingly in sync. Geno eats it up. Teammates praise it like it’s magic. But Azzi feels it for what it is—muscle memory. Chemistry that never really went away, no matter how badly she tried to bury it.

Only now, Paige doesn’t cut. Not really.

Not since August.

Not since her ACL gave out during a pre-season practice—before classes had even started. One wrong plant, one too-fast drive, and everything came undone.

Azzi hadn’t even been in the gym that day. She heard about it from Caroline. And when she showed up to the training room, Paige was already sitting on the table, leg braced, eyes hollow, pretending like it wasn’t the end of something she’d been building toward for years.

Now, she runs the offense from the sideline like it’s second nature—clipboard in one hand, barking out reads with the sharpness of someone who still sees the game like she’s in it. And in a way, she is.

But it’s different.

Azzi watches her during drills, sees the flickers—Paige’s jaw tightening when the trainers roll out the ice, the way she shifts in her seat like her body still wants to move. Still wants to lead.

But she never lingers too long. Never lets it show. Never lets herself feel it out loud.

And Azzi knows better.

She knows what it’s like to want something so badly your chest aches—and to watch it move on without you.

Every day it eats at her. The silence. The space. The unanswered question hanging between them like fog.

Why didn’t you fight for her?

Azzi still doesn’t know.

She thinks about texting her all the time. Writing something that could undo a year of unspoken everything.

“I didn’t know what I wanted back then.” “I was scared.” “It was always you.”

But the truth is, none of it feels like enough.

Because Paige gave her everything. And Azzi gave her nothing.

She sighs.

You were scared to choose her. Now she’s gone.

[forpsheturnpesbian]

Can you do somethin where Paige is having a hard time adjusting to Dallas and mentally just isn’t doing great so azzi comes and surprises her and they work through her thoughts and headspace and just some fluff

Home is you

Word count: 667

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

a/n: hope this is to ur liking, tried to do this ask justice. One of my first times writing please point out any errors and i’ll try my best to correct them eng isnt my first language. (Didn’t proofread it bare with me guys)

Dallas was..great

Nothing was wrong. She had chosen to be there. She had sworn to give this franchise the best player they could ever hope for, because they had chosen her

Out of all the players invited with the intent of contributing to greatness, she was their pick, their prospect, their player.

Paige was a franchise player and she was chosen to be exactly that

And as much as that is rewarding it is equally terrifying in its own unique way.

Everything was brand new, a new team, new coaching staff, new place, hell a whole new goddamn city. And P took it like a champ—Cheering on teammates, semi-unpacking, establishing her goals for the season, getting used to what Dallas has to offer, and training to get better everyday like she says everyday.

But the rook can only take so much. Till the tension has sinked completely into her bones, till she can barely breathe. Finally a breath of fresh air

Incoming call: Az💗

“Baby?” Paige asked her, breathing for the first time all day sinking into her overly expensive couch still in her sweaty gym clothes.

“Yeah im here” voice soft and tinged with concern

“This might be the wildest thing i'mma ever say” with a huff

“Uh..huh” Azzi raises a brow but follows anyways

“I think I- miss storrs?” She said rubbing her forehead

“Really? That's what you built up to?” She says trying to conceal her amusement but her tone was not convincing anyone.

“But seriously what makes you say that?” She asks in a tone so sweet and warming it puts honey to shame

“I just- I don’t belong here” voice cracking for just a second, barely noticeable over the line

“Paige” her voice softening even further

“Azzi” she says teasingly trying to ease away whatever worry she knows azzi’s feeling

“You fit anywhere and everywhere you go, and you know that”

“Do I? This is news to me tell me more” she snorts but she knows what azzi’s saying is real “yeah I know”

They talk about nothing in particular for god knows how long, during god knows when.

How they even find the time for it is truly a challenge itself.

But they’ll always find it, it doesn't matter if it’s 5 hours or 5 minutes.

…

A few days after that call she starts feeling all the isolation she didn’t know she felt in the first place rush back to her when she started unpacking the rest of her things.

It all hits her full force when she opens her polaroid box.

A shoe box she filled with pictures of everyone she could possibly need—her siblings, her dad, the team, coach, and the person who filled most of the box—her love

And that broke whatever show she tried so hard to put on.

That is until home finally found her, when she couldn’t find it.

When she sees the brown eyes she fell into when she was 14 and never left.

And before she knows it she latches all 6 feet of herself onto azzi with no space for air in between. She just stands there for a moment, head buried in her neck, wrapping her arms around azzi like if she held on tight enough her girl would never slip away.

“Do me a favour never leave again” Paige asks wholeheartedly, head still buried into all things azzi.

Earning a small laugh from her, and Paige thinks it’s the best thing she's heard since she’d gotten here.

“I’ll try my best for the 2 days I'm here?” She says slightly amused

“Shhh Im in denial let me have this” and it earns a real laugh from the brunette, the kind that makes you dedicate your life to hearing over and over again.

And as for Paige she’s heard 9 years worth of it and many more to come, whether it's right here or 1000 miles apart she’ll always find a way to hear it.

[yvesssssssss]

Hey!! Your writing puts me to sleep every time I swear. May I suggest shin, heiisuke + whoever you want, with a chubby!reader who’s never been properly loved? And when they give her love, and spoil her with gifts and affection she tears up maybe? Sorry I suck at explaining things. Take your time and take care!

Sakamoto days men with a chubby s/o who's never been properly loved

Thank you so much bb!! I hope you like it!💞💞 Have a good night/day🫶

Nagumo yoichi

You should have known he was planning something when he walked into your place with that dangerous glint in his eye—the one that usually preceded a prank, a fake identity, or a grocery list of mischief.

But instead of chaos, Nagumo handed you a shopping bag.

Several, actually.

“What’s this?” you asked, cautiously peeking inside the first one. A hoodie. Soft pink. Sanrio-themed. Your size.

Then the next bag: a heart-shaped mirror compact. Then: a Hello Kitty blanket. Then: a little box with sparkly earrings shaped like strawberries.

You blinked. “Nagumo...?”

“I figured it out,” he said smugly, flopping dramatically onto your couch. “You don’t know how to be spoiled. So I’m fixing that.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

“Nagumo, this is too much. You don’t have to do all this. I mean—why would you?”

He tilted his head, all casual mischief and unspoken affection. “Because I want to. Because you light up like a sparkler when you talk about cute things. And because it pisses me off that no one’s ever looked at you and thought, ‘Yeah, they deserve the world.’”

You swallowed thickly, hands tightening around the bag.

“No one’s ever done this for me,” you murmured. “Not without expecting something in return.”

“Well, lucky for you,” he said, scooting closer and poking your cheek, “I’m not everyone.”

Your eyes welled up, and you tried to laugh it off. “God, I must look pathetic.”

“You look adorable,” he corrected gently. “And for the record? I bought extras in case you cried. There's a backup blanket and some emergency gummies in the bottom bag. I'm not a rookie.”

You laughed—half-sob, half-giggle—and let the tears fall, overwhelmed by a love that didn’t come with rules or reservations. Just gifts and jokes and a boy who saw every soft inch of you and decided, with absolute confidence, that you were worth spoiling.

He wrapped the Sanrio blanket around your shoulders, tugging you into his chest as if you belonged there.

“Yoichi?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, resting his chin on your head. “Just let yourself be loved, for once.”

Shin asakura

It was just coffee. That’s what you told yourself.

Just coffee, just a muffin, just a boy with soft eyes and a heart that made you feel like breathing didn’t have to be a chore.

“Here,” Shin said that morning, holding out the to-go cup with both hands like it was some sacred offering. “I remembered you said you liked it this way.”

You stared. The smell hit you first—vanilla, cinnamon, a hint of warmth you didn’t think you deserved. You hadn’t even told him directly. It was just a comment weeks ago, about a café you walked past once.

“...You really remembered that?”

Shin shrugged, ears pink. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Your fingers wrapped around the cup slowly, hesitant, like it would vanish. “I didn’t think—people usually don’t... I mean, I’m not really the kind of person people go out of their way for.”

Shin’s brows furrowed, and for a moment, the air shifted. His voice, usually gentle and full of awkward pauses, came out firm. “Don’t say that. Not around me.”

He reached into the paper bag in his other hand and held it out with a sheepish smile. “Also, I brought you those muffins you liked. Blueberry crumble and the smiley-face chocolate one. The barista thought it was for a kid. I told her it was for someone way cuter.”

Your throat closed up. Not from the sweetness, but from the quiet ache that followed it.

You didn’t know how to handle kindness like this. Not when it came with no conditions. No punchlines. No “if you lost a little weight” at the end of a compliment.

When you sat beside him on the couch, muffin untouched in your lap, you tried to thank him, but the words got stuck behind the lump in your throat.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered instead, wiping your eyes.

“Don’t be,” he said gently, shifting closer until your shoulders touched. “You don’t have to thank me. You deserve it.”

You looked down at your hands, holding the muffin like it was something fragile.

“No one’s ever... done this kind of thing for me.”

Shin leaned in just slightly, voice low. “Then I guess it’s my job to do it from now on.”

You didn’t speak after that. Just sat in the quiet, his sleeve brushing yours, the warmth of the coffee cupped between your palms. And for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel like you were asking too much just by being there.

Heisuke mashimo

Heisuke had been acting weird.

Well, weirder than usual. Flinching when you got too close to his bag. Spinning excuses when you asked why he was hunched over his workbench every night with colorful threads and a stubborn frown.

“I-it’s just target practice!” he stammered once, red in the face. “With... fabric. For like, stealth. Or something.”

You’d nodded, suspicious but amused.

Then, one rainy afternoon, he showed up at your door with a large cloth bag tucked beneath his arm and a nervous grin that twitched like a faulty light switch.

“I, um... made something for you,” he said, eyes wide. “I was gonna wait for your birthday. Or like, a holiday. Or an asteroid impact. But I couldn’t—so here!”

He thrust it toward you like it was a live grenade.

You opened it carefully.

Inside was a handmade plushie.

The stitching was a little uneven. One of the button eyes was slightly too big. The body was soft, stuffed with love and probably too much cotton. It wore a tiny, clumsy version of your favorite hoodie. A scribbled-on tag near the ear read: You're my comfort, so I made you a comfort too.

Your breath caught.

“I know it’s not professional or anything,” he rushed on, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “And maybe it’s dumb—like, who gives someone a stuffed animal when they’re not a kid, right? But I just thought... I dunno. You always give me this warm feeling, like... like I don’t have to aim so hard to hit something good.”

You clutched the plush to your chest.

“Heisuke,” you whispered, “I love it.”

He blinked. “You—you do?!”

You nodded, tears welling, because no one had ever made something for you before. Not like this. Not just because they wanted to. Not because you earned it or begged for it or promised to shrink yourself small enough to fit into their idea of worthy.

“I... I’ve never gotten anything like this,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I always thought I had to look a certain way or be a certain way to deserve affection. But you just—”

“I like you the way you are,” Heisuke said quickly, cutting you off. “I like all of you. No edits. No asterisks.”

The plushie’s soft cotton pressed into your cheek as you held it tighter. Heisuke scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you.

“If you want, I could make you another one,” he mumbled. “With a little rifle. Or a matching hoodie. Or—hey! A tiny me to go with it—like a duo!”

You laughed, tearfully and warmly. “I’d like that.”

He smiled so hard his eyes crinkled. “Yeah? Cool. I’ll get started tonight. Might even give mine a tiny sniper scope.”

You hugged him.

It was the kind of hug that felt like home.

Heisuke hugged you back just as tightly, whispering into your hair, “You never have to change for me.”

Uzuki kei

Uzuki never said "I love you" the usual way.

He didn’t shower you with dramatic declarations or hold your hand in public just because he could. Love with him was subtle, like a second heartbeat—steady, quiet, ever-present.

Like now.

You sat curled on his couch in an oversized sweater (his), quietly flipping through a book he left for you on the coffee table. It was always like this: silent gestures, thoughtful timing, a warm mug placed by your elbow before you even noticed you were cold.

And then there was today. The tiny box.

You found it beside the mug, unwrapped, unannounced, with a ribbon so carefully tied it could’ve only been done by someone who thought it through a hundred times.

Inside: a custom necklace. A charm shaped like a star. On the back, etched in his neat handwriting:

“You make the dark a little softer.”

You stared at it. Breath stilled.

"Kei," you whispered, unsure if he was even still in the room.

He stepped into view, hands in his pockets, unreadable expression on his face—but his eyes never left yours.

"Do you like it?" he asked, voice calm, measured. But there was a flicker of tension in his jaw—like he was bracing for rejection, even now.

“I—” You touched the charm. It was warm. “I love it.”

A pause. Then softer: “Why?”

“Because no one’s ever looked at me and seen something beautiful enough to put into metal,” you murmured, eyes burning. “Not like this.”

Uzuki was quiet.

And then, slowly, he crossed the room and knelt in front of you, his pale fingers reaching out—not to touch the necklace, but to cup your cheek with an almost unbearable gentleness.

“You don’t see yourself the way I do,” he said, tone steady but eyes storming. “You think you’re too soft. Too much. Not enough. But I’ve never once looked at you and wanted to change a single thing.”

Your lip trembled.

“I’ve spent most of my life surrounded by silence,” he continued. “But it’s different when you’re here. Peaceful, not empty. I never knew silence could feel warm until you filled it.”

You couldn’t help it. The tears slipped free—quiet, stunned, and raw.

No one had ever loved you like this. Not fully, not without asking you to be smaller, quieter, less visible.

Uzuki wiped your cheek with the side of his thumb. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You can cry.”

And when he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice dropped low, just for you.

“I’ll keep saying it in every way I know how—until you believe me.”

[greentrickster]

What if Tramsformers existed in the same universe as Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu (airplane got drunk and thought: yeah, cool space robots in a Xianxia setting. This is gonna be great. Thanks airplane).

Bingqiu and Moshang live long enough to (re)reach modern day and the autobots and Decepticons begin fighting on earth.

Luo Binghe sees this and decides love* can solve this conflict and immediately decides to matchmake Megatron and Optimus (along with several other bots and cons).

SQQ and SQH watch in fear and anticipation because with that Protagonist Halo of his he might actually succeed!

*well, live and sex (cmon it’s Binghe we’re taking about). The world runs on porn logic (again, thank you airplane bro) so it’s probably gonna happen. SQQ doesn’t wanna think about it. SQH does.

———

Anyway, silly little idea. Nice seeing you reappear on my dash, haven’t seen you since the SVSSS x Way of the Househusband crossover.

Ayeeeeeeee~ Cullen, been awhile! And dang, has it been that long? Frick, I think you missed an entire AU if that's the case!

Also, fun idea! It'd be doubly cool if the transformers all had a slightly xianxia cant to their designs in this version of events, sort of like those figures of Star Wars characters redesigned as samurai, but still recognizably themselves. That would be cool, and I personally prefer when xianxia and high fantasy settings 'modernize' into very distinct 'present day' settings that are still very noticeably different than our world when it comes to things like tech, fashion, and architecture. Personal preference, but also a chance to do some cool designs with the Cybertronians. Or-

-ooooooh~, no wait, entirely scrap needing to get to modern day at all! Just drop the Cybertronians bam in the center of the historically inaccurate xianxia setting! Because Airplane wouldn't freaking hesitate, so why should I?!? He was drunk, it was a silly-fun AU fanfic of his own work he did in his notes one night to Spark Joy, why bother having it happen in a 'modern' setting when he can just plop it in the current one, it's just a silly-fun idea to Spark Joy, it doesn't need any effort put into it! The Cybertronians, again, still have a more xianxia look to their root forms, and their alt forms look more like mythical beasts and creatures! Like, Optimus as a dragon, Megatron as a tiger (since the two are seen in combat more often than not), Starscream something along the lines of a phoenix (he flies and refuses to stay dead, I'm right), that sort of thing! Because it would be neat and look cool and Airplane agrees with me!

Personal preference would probably shift things to StarOP with Optimus and Megatron working things through and reclaiming their friendship, too (I'm sorry, no hate, it's just not my ship). Definitely gotta have Jazz/Soundwave, though, because I deem it Fun. I'd probably avoid sex between the Cybertronians, though, for two reasons:

Again, just not my cup of tea. I'm cool with robot sex, but I really, really like the bit of Transformers lore about Cybertron having hot spots that give birth to new sparks every now and then and that's where sparklings come from, it makes my anthropology minor go brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr at very high speeds!

More importantly, I think it'd be so, so much fun to have Binghe try and deal with a species that just... does not have sex. They respect your choices, but that's just not something they have any inclination or interest in doing, entire species of asexuals. And Binghe is trying to help them hook up while also having to revise his entire worldview in the process. Do you see it? Do you see my vision???

Shen Qingqiu is absolutely chugging vinegar over this entire situation, but he can't even get properly mad at Shang Qinghua, because even he didn't ever plan to include this in PIDW in any manner, it was just goofing around. Not to mention that not even Shen Yuan is immune to Cool Giant Xianxia Transformers.

Thanks for the ask!

[dementedspeedster]

//I think the insistence to not read any of Thad's appearances past the Impu/se comics or that his appearances post Impu/se are out of character for him has poisoned the well regarding fandom's understanding of his character. Popular fandom interpretations also don't help.

I think with regard to Thad there is an inundation in fandom of the character people want Thad to be and not the character that Thad actually is. And I'm personally frustrated with it.

[prettyflyshyguy]

Having a Rough One (tm) and I have NO ART to show you but here's some WIP scraps cause it's wip wednesday (miscellaneous, from the two drastically different things I'm writing right now. I'd say guess which is which but its bluntly obvious)

[adore-gregor]

i did okay i guess

[arokel]

it wasn’t bait, don’t be so conceited . and I know the greatest generation wasn’t squeaky clean (duh!!) but as far as working hard, having good attitudes and prioritizing having a family, they were way better than the weak generation that’s being raised now.

my great grandfather actually wasn’t the classiest guy before he turned his life around at 85 years old for your info. He was a drunk and pretty wild and the stereotypical stubborn Polish man. he spent time in England and Africa repairing Liberators (look up the Caliban if you don’t believe me). I’m only telling you this because these were words by someone who actually lived back then. My mother literally asked him this question one day and that’s what he told her. other people I’ve talked to who had greatest generation grandparents or parents have said the same thing too. you have to remember. People who lived through the times are more accurate sources than modern age historian authors. it’s an unpopular opinion, but it’s true.

and being that the boys seemed like their were classier gentlemen than my great grandfather (and one of ulbrikson’s rules was no swearing) I highly doubt they used that word. You all just can’t go two seconds or paragraphs without uttering it so you justify it by projecting yourselves onto them

Alright, I’m answering it anyway because deep down I AM a petty asshole and I can’t let things go once I’ve got the bit in my teeth. Sorry to all of my followers but unfortunately this is just who I am 😔

I want to focus specifically on one part of your ask, because quite frankly the rest of it doesn’t matter to me. You say this:

“People who lived through the times are more accurate sources than modern age historian authors. It’s an unpopular opinion, but it’s true.”

This is not an unpopular opinion. I can’t stress that enough. That’s how all history works. I know people like to talk about academia through the lens of “woke Howard Zinn is trying to destroy America with his revisionist lies” these days, but I promise historians are not out to deceive you. Just because sometimes we wind up recontextualizing history and looking at our past assumptions with the benefit of new information and understanding doesn’t mean that Big History has some sort of nefarious agenda.

Contemporary first-person accounts are the historian’s holy grail. Notice I emphasize contemporary - oral histories are valuable, but human memory is fallible and we have a tendency to present ourselves in the best light. My grandfather, who was an alcoholic for my mother’s entire childhood but got sober before I was born, speaks very differently about his addiction with me than he does at AA conferences. That doesn’t mean my grandfather isn’t a reliable historical source for his own life, but it does mean that if I want the full picture then I have to search for outside corroborating evidence.

So that’s what I did.

We cannot know with any certainty the prevalence of swearing among the wider population until roughly the 1970s with the proliferation of talk radio and television programs. (If you watch Simon Roper’s video, you’ll see he mentions court transcripts as one of the few ways we can document reported speech prior to the advent of recording technology.) The accuracy of self-reporting is situationally dependent - that is, your great-grandfather or his friends may have felt social pressure to downplay the extent of their swearing when asked about it later in life. The word ‘fuck’ itself was the most versatile word in a WWII soldier’s arsenal, and swearing has a been an integral part of military self-identity since long before that.

I’m not calling your grandfather a liar. As Simon Roper says, prior to the 1960s how much someone swore was highly dependent on the individual. And in my mind, a group of rough-and-tumble logger’s boys from an upstart backwater city, spending time primarily only around each other, may very well have sworn more than a well-bred easterner. Or they may not have! That’s why I asked for headcanons.

But that brings me to my bigger issue with this ask: I asked for headcanons. I love history, and I care a lot about making sure the settings of my fics are as accurate as possible, but at the end of the day I’m writing fanfiction. Bobby Moch and Don Hume did not actually have sex in real life, so I’m not incredibly worried whether the fictional versions of them I write say “fuck” while they do it.

I totally get where you’re coming from; my tolerance for swearing is obviously higher than yours but I can think of a few fics I’ve read where the characters swore so frequently that it took me out of the story completely. But at the end of the day I’m playing in my little sandbox over by myself, and if you choose to go out of your way to check in on me and get offended then that’s not really my fault?? Go watch a Simon Roper video and maybe you’ll feel better.

Also, if you’re who I'm 98% sure you are, I’ve suspected you had alts for months and I’m pretty sure I even know their names, so if you really want to have a discussion then you can just dm me.

[yesyourstalker]

Neta: *sigh*....... .......

Ikkan: nervous?

Neta:......a little bit yeah.....

Ikkan: *hehehe*...... Don't be nervous, you have nothing to be nervous about I'll be right here.... And after this I'll be here forever

Neta: till death do us part

Ikkan: till death do us part...(Peck).... Fix your tie....and ..... perfect.....now.......let's get married

[wedding music]

officiant: Good evening everyone, friends family we are guided here today to celebrate life's greatest moments and to cherish the words which shall unite Neta Verns

Neta: *smiling*.....*sniff*.......hehe

Officiant: and Ikkan Kane

Ikkan: *smiling*.....*sigh*.....

Officiant: you would like to exchange your vows

Neta: I'd like to go..............*sigh*...... ikkan.... I always look back and remember the first time we first met.

Ikkan: heheh

Neta: you were very standoffish and quiet heh You're also a little bit mean just a little bit

Ikkan: heheh

Neta: If something told me that that really wasn't you. I'm so happy My hunch was right. Ikkan You're kind, You're soft-spoken, you're so patient ....*crying*... I'm sorry........ Getting to see you everyday. Your smile, hearing your laugh and listening to you speak ....*sniff*...about your interest. Your passionate rants about Arpeggio and crescendo I still don't know what that means but I love hearing you say it....

Ikkan: ehhehehehe

Neta: that's the smile I like to see.... I love you Ikkan you're my best friend and I am truly grateful I'm going to live the rest of my life with you I-

[Alright he's been in there long enough. Pull him up]

Neta: what!?......... what!?..... what's happening!!....*cough*.....….*cough*.....what the fuck!!... what's going on?!

Octoling Superior: alright Verns you've been in the pit long enough. Time to get back to training. All chargers are outside doing target practice. Take your weapon and go out with the rest of them.

Neta: what?

Octoling Superior: go outside and do tragic practice. Your punishment is over go

Neta: but-but-but I was getting married! *huff* Where's my husband?! My store?! I had a store and my family.....*huff*..*huff*.... Cirrina......my daughter ......what happened to my crab cakes?!!.*huff*.......

Octoling soldier: *hehe* what's he talking about?

Octoling Superior: I've heard if you stay in the ink pit long enough without interaction the brain starts to hallucinate and starts making things up......to keep it self sane. He'll be fine.

Neta:*huff*huff**huff**sobbing**huff**huff**huff**huffhuffhuffhufff......AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaah-HA!!.. what?…..huh?..................*huff*.........................*huff*...................*huff*............*huff*.........*huff*.......*huff*........ where is it? Where is it?... here.....*huff*...[squeeze]

Plushie recording: Hi! Demersal the grounding fish! I'm going to ask a few questions ok?... can you name 3 you can see?

Neta:... my dresser......*huff*...my bed....my bass

Recording:.............good job!.....can you tell 3 things you can feel?

Neta:...my bed sheets....my clothes....*huff*....cold floor.....

Recording:..........okay!!....can you tell me where you are?

Neta:......*sigh*....my apartment

Recording:...............good job! Do you know what time it is? The short hand is the hour and the long hand is the minute!

Neta: I know that.... it's...6:47a.m.

Recording:.............. wow! Now can tell me about yourself how old are you!

Neta: ......................35.......

Recording: .........wow! wow!you're so big!

Neta: fuckyou

Recording:what's your name?

Neta: Neta

Recording:.........that's a nice name! We're almost done let's count back to 10 together! Ready?!10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1

Neta 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1......uggghh

Recording: you're doing so well let's take a deep breath ok? Breath in.....

Neta: [inhale]

Recording: now Breath out

Neta: [exhale]

Recording: you are safe.... I'm so proud of you! It's ok to feel overwhelmed sometimes. I know it can be really hard.. just Remember your grounding technique and don't forget to self-sooth!...stay safe hehe bye bye

Neta: you're lucky Behi gifted you to me...if it wasn't for him you would've been sold decades ago.........[chuck] ..............[inhale] [exhale]................ nibbles come here......Did I scare you off the bed?....*kiss*.. . I'm sorry..............hm?...

Mahi:*sleeping*....

Neta: heheh...*huff*...fish still here?.......heh makes sense...

_______________________________________________

Mahi: *yawn*..........ummm....uggg....... Neta you need to get a better couch this one sucks.....oh....

Neta: no.... I don't want you to come home... Not for something as dumb as a nightmare ..hehe....I'm fine.I know..i know I know babe I get that... You shouldn't have to drop everything for me..... I know you don't mind it but I do.... I hate that.... yeah I understand........ yeah........ yeah............................. You're right.......................*sigh*....no......I still don't want you to come home..... Can you at least stay on the phone with me for a while?....... Pancakes... I think I buried some hehehehe.....*sigh*... No.... it looks fine. A little dark in the middle..... It should be fine... You cook better than I do..... What are you doing?..... Why are you milking them by hand I thought you had a machine for that........ Oh she's scared of it? awwww poor manatee......... An hour? it takes an hour to get a full bucket of milk?....... Okay that's fair. They are big...I-(gasp).... Mahi!..[inhale exhale]........ How long have you been sitting there

Mahi: couple minutes..... Can I have a pancake

Neta:. .................... Yeah, I'm fine. No, it's just my employee, yeah fish still here......... I'll call you when I get to work..... I love you too...bye................... How many pancakes do you want?

_______________________________________________

Mahi: *eating*......

Neta:*eating*.......

Mahi: *eating*.... pancakes are good

Neta: *eating* thank you

Mahi: how do to make them shape like little octopuses

Neta:...Cirrina bought cookie cutter sets years ago. sometimes use them for molds for pancakes..... I use it for eggs too...*sniff*...........*sigh*............ I have to get ready for work.....[stretch].......[POP]...mmmmm......fuck not today knee...ssssss

Mahi:...*eating*....you know you really should try investing in a knee brace I think my friend has a couple of them I can see if she can give you one

Neta: that's nice........

Mahi: so I know you have to go to work and everything in a couple minutes. Would it be too much to ask to drive me to campus I got to go to the library and do some studying

Neta: Alright..... We'll leave 15 minutes... Do you have clothes to get dressed in?

Mahi: no

Neta: we can just find something in the drawer.....

Mahi: can I borrow these jeans?

Neta: Yeah sure. I don't think they don't fit you tho

Mahi: they fit me just fine I just need to cut the pants legs

Neta: *sigh*. . You know you might as well just take the rest of my old clothes. I'm never going to fit em again anyway

Mahi: really?

Neta: yeah really I insist I really don't care. You can have them

Mahi: are you sure?....

Neta: you know what I'll just give them to my daughter she doesn't listen to 'Cyrus in the cyclones' but I think she'll like the Cool vintage look of it

Mahi: no gimme! Don't give it to her! She'll just ruin it and turn it into a jagged uneven crop top! _______________________________________________

Ikkan: I finished milking tulip

Koi-koi: That's good hun. We'll have it pasteurized tomorrow. Just keep it in the fridge in the shed

Ikkan: alright

Cirrina: I'm going out..

Koi-koi: and where do you think you're going?

Cirrina: I need to go into the city The ferry leaves in an hour

Koi-koi: I don't think so. You haven't finished your chores you were supposed to refill the Manatee feed today and You're supposed to mix up the compost in the back.

Cirrina: I know I'll get to when I get back

Koi-koi: noooo... You will do it now. Young lady, I'm not like your father or your grandfather when I say do something you do it now. You can take the next ferry

Cirrina: but I-

Koi-koi: no buts young lady

Cirrina: I'm meeting someone

Koi-koi: meeting who Exactly?

Cirrina:.............a friend

Koi-koi: ....a friend? What friend?

Cirrina: (blush)......he's a boy

Koi-koi: a boy?.....

Cirrina: ... yeah....

Koi-koi: where is he taking you?

Cirrina: a museum, around town

Koi-ko:........ A museum?........................................,........ Be home by 9:00......... Here get yourself some food maybe a souvenir.

Cirrina: you're cool grandma....

Koi-koi: uh-huh whatever...... When you get home you'll do the chores that you were supposed to do and..... You wash the dishes

Cirrina: alright

_______________________________________________

Baja: did you see the commercial mom?

Baja's mom: I saw the commercial... I am so proud of you sweetheart You're going to be on TV how exciting

Baja: I know ... I still can't believe it

Baja's mom: this is going to open up so many opportunities. The benefits will be nice. You have a nice paycheck and a lot of money, make sure you save some of it. You're going to make so many new friends!!

Baja: yeah hehe I hope I do...

Baja's mom: I know you have problems making friends.

Baja: mmmmm

Baja's mom: You're a sweet boy you really are

Baja: thank mom

Baja mom: you know this might be the perfect time for you to find someone

Baja: fine who?

Baja's mom: A partner! Ohhhhhh I'm so happy for you honey. You can go on dates. You can meet new people. You'll be married in no time?

Baja: uhhhhh I guess....... I'm going to be really honest Mom. I don't really think I want to do that right now

Baja's mom: Well I don't want to rush you but it's good to start... You know your brother is already married and your sister is on her fifth kid...

Baja: Mom

Hine (Baja's mom): I know. I know I shouldn't compare my kids but let me just finish. Your siblings are no older than you and they've already have their lives set up and I don't want you to fall behind

Baja:Mom, I'm not falling behind. I-I just...ugh....... I'm just....... I'm just not good at dating and seeing people

Hine: What on Earth do you mean baby?! you're not good at dating? Honey, you're the most talkative and social person in the family! How could you think you're not good at dating? You're a real catch

Baja:.........

Hine: What about that fella you told me about? I looked him up, I didn't really like the images I saw .. what about him? I thought you liked him?

Baja: We broke up

Hine: you broke up?....*sigh*...... So you're single?........ So what are you just......... Are you just sleeping around?

Baja: (blush)..NO! I'M NOT

Hine:Sweetie, don't be embarrassed. A lot of young adults have casual sex ...I'm just saying you know eventually you need to settle down and-

Baja:I'm not.. I'm not..... I'm not having sex. I never had it

Hine:....…Well that's ok. Personally I waited to get married to-

Sibling: HA! VIRGIN!

Hine: Maui! What did I tell you about eavesdropping! Go!.............*sigh*....... Sweetheart..... I don't want to put pressure on you sweetie...... I just don't want you to be alone we're not good when we're alone... I want you to have a family

Baja: I'm not alone. I have a family. I have you and my siblings..........and Desmond I guess

Hine: we can't live forever honey you're going to need to find someone eventually.

Baja:................... alright..... I'll try to find someone...

Hine: I know you'll find someone there's someone out there for everyone including you sweetie....

Baja: ........ yeah.....l love you.... bye

Hine: I love you too

Baja:.....................danm

Hitch: we're filming in 15!

_______________________________________________

Bayou: this painting is a. Self-portrait of Joyce Veair she was our firat prime minister

Cirrina: wow... she's gorgeous she painted this herself

Bayou: Yes... She has so many paintings around the world. She even has one in Museum d'Alfonsino

Cirrina: really...... She's very talented.

Bayou: not only that, she was very intelligent and very outspoken....

Cirrina: what's this one

Bayou: this is a sculpture made entirely out of urchin spines it was made by tosh monui. Every month he'd shed his old spines. He would collect them and Stick them in a ball of wax until the ball was completely covered in spineies. After he'd take the rest to make a body, he would call them mace men because they look like maces with a body. He soon started to model them after cave drawings of primitive urchin

Cirrina: that's amazing....oh what's this one. This one is beautiful

Bayou: this one is called 'home'

Cirrina: it's a beautiful landscape....who is by?....... This piece was painted by One of the top students in krillarney School of arts and it's one of the youngest to be presented in This museum she has won several awards and has several nominations. We are privileged to have her in a museum This piece is called home by Bayou Ster..............wow same name as you

Bayou:.........ehehehehehe Cirrina. That's me this is my work.

Cirrina: oh..hehehe I'm stupid........ It's really nice. You're really talented....

Bayou: thank you.... This is one of my favorite paintings I used an old picture of my nan's old home.

Cirrina: I love the texture and the hills and trees. It's even in the river.... Do you have more paintings here?

Bayou: I have this big painting over here. This one took me a whole month to finish this one..... I rode the fairy everyday just to get the perfect reference for crashing waves

Cirrina: wow .. . it's amazing

Bayou: it's almost 6 do you want to get something to eat. We can go to Mrs Cuddles to get some fried cod and hush puppies

Mrs Cuddles: Harold, bring these pines to table 7!...

Bayou: hi Mrs Cuddles!

Mrs Cuddles: Bayou how are you darling, Cirrina! Ohhhh... You two hungry? Let me get you something Harold, drop two more cod in the fryer!!..... You to relax. I'll get you ladies some sodas while you wait

Bayou: thank you!

Cirrina: thanks............................................. So you're probably going to think I'm really dumb but for the past 3 days I thought you were a guy

Bayou:.............hehehehe Did you?.must be the tentacle cut huh?

Cirrina: hehehe... yeah...hehehe... I'm sorry.....

Bayou: If I'm being real here I don't identify with anything in particular...if you see me as a guy I don't mind it

Cirrina: if you don't identify as that I don't want to

Bayou: I see myself as everything and nothing, masculine and feminine and anything in-between. I really don't mind Cirrina

Cirrina: All right if you put it that way hehehe

Mrs Cuddles: here you go! Fresh cod and a large bag of hush puppies for the road!

Cirrina: thanks how much do I owe you?

Mrs Cuddles: nonsense it's on the house. Kiddies eat for free here. Once you reach the age to drink you have to pay

Cirrina: thanks Mrs Cuddles!....

_______________________________________________

Neta: *humming*...(Pat)..*humming*....(Pat)......

Ona:.........

Candi: *snoring*........*snoring*.......

Tv

Baja:What is music at midnight? Well as the names in the title says we're going to be talking about music and it's going to be airing during midnight.

Announcer: music at midnight a new late night talk show! Premieres tonight only on O.E.T!

Neta:.....*sigh*....... ikkan would love this show. .........me and him cuddling watching TV at midnight. Under a blanket surrounded by pillows...................... I miss him....

Ona: [baby noises]

Neta: yeah? You would like the show too Ona?

Bowie: what are you watching?

Neta: Bowie go back to bed. It's past your bedtime, go back upstairs with your mom

Bowie: but she snores too loud!

Neta: Bowie.. .... okay

Bowie: what's in this room?

Neta: noooo that's my daughter's room you can't go in there....let's sit down on the couch..... come on........(click).....why don't we watch 'Ollie? ...you like Ollie

Bowie: alright

Tv

[Music]........Mom!..[music].......Dad!.........[music].......Leo!......[music]...........OLLIE!

Bowie: hehe

Neta: you need to lay down. try to get some sleep before your dad picks you up. You start preschool soon, you need a proper sleep schedule.

Bowie: okay

Ona: [fussy baby noises]

Neta: you need to sleep too young lady ......

Ona [crying]

Neta: someone is hungry..... Come on baby girl. Let's get you something to eat and fresh dia-(gasp).....*sigh*..... I need to put a bell on you

Mahi: I need to finish my homework I won't be annoying I promise.

Neta: where's Baja should he be at home with you?

Mahi: He's at work... They're doing a test stream or something or whatever

Ona: [crying]

Neta:.......*sigh*... Alright ........ I have some left overs in the fridge if you want anything.... Can you watch Bowie? Just make sure he's sleeping or watching TV as long as he's quiet.....

Mahi: ......(typing) alright

Neta: come on Ona....

_______________________________________________

Cirrina: ..... that was pretty good

Bayou: Yes I go there every other Sunday....

Cirrina: I leave on Sunday.... Maybe I can get another one before I leave....... Is that a music store?

Bayou: The old music store? Ye.....you play an instrument?

Cirrina: I play the cello .... It's nothing impressive really..... Second chair trying to get first chair in high school

Bayou: wow I'd like to see you play

Cirrina: no...nooo I-I couldn't .... You were going to take me to the cafe

Bayou: come on... Let's go inside....... We have plenty of time

Cirrina: ehhhhhh ok..... ...

Bayou: excuse me do you have a Cello we can try out?

Employees: sure.....hol up...let meh jest.......unlock.....here ya are..... .

Bayou: here you go Cirrina

Cirrina: [playing Bach: Cello Suite No. 1]

Bayou: [clap]...[clap] ...wow brains and beauty

Cirrina: (blush)..........you don't mean that

Bayou: I do .... You really talented

Cirrina: hehehe.............

Bayou:................

Cirrina: It's getting dark. I need to go home.

Bayou: Yeah why don't I take you to the cafe and get something to go and I can walk you to the ferry....{takes hand}

Cirrina: I'd like that.

_______________________________________________

Candi: mmmmmmm.....*yawn*........*huff*........(Squeak).....hm?

Plushie

Recording: I believe in you and your strength to keep fighting

Candi: Demersal?....... Do they still give these out?.....(Squeeze)

Recording: sometimes bad things happen and they're out of our control. It wasn't your fault

Candi: Cod I hated this thing ........ alright where are my kids? .... I'm well rested and ready to go........hey Neta..(toss)...

Neta:...ow......... hey........(Pat).......(Pat)......(Pat)

Bowie: *sleeping*..........

Candi: thanks for watching the kids. Donn had to go back to work today...*yawn*...... just needed a break..

Neta: no problem

Candi: how's Ona doing?

Ona:*sleeping*.......

Neta: she's fine......

Candi: .. That's good.. .... why do you still have this thing?

Neta: it was a gift... I got it when I was a kid...I just can't give it away

Candi:............

Neta: What! Ok what did you do with yours?

Candi: I ripped out the voice box and gave it to Bowie. He then threw up on it so I threw it away. Kids...

Neta: yeah... I had an old blanket I used to wrap her in. One blowout later and it was in the trash

Candi: hehehehe... Don't you just love being a parent sometimes?

Neta: heheheh.... Don't tell her I told you that she would kill me.. hehehdhe

Mahi:.......guys

Candi: hi mahi..........

Mahi: hey

Candi: ....... Donn's outside I got to get going.... Neta do you mind?

Neta: *scooping up Bowie*....yeeep let's go.....

_______________________________________________

Cirrina: I really enjoyed this.. I had fun.

Bayou: I had fun too Cirrina. I really like you

Cirrina: I like you too ..........................

Bayou:...............

Cirrina:...........

Bayou:..........*leaning in*............[kiss].....

Cirrina: [kiss]........ Hehehe

Bayou: hehehehehe

Cirrina: (blush)..... I- I need to go....uh

Bayou: I'll text you.......[peck]

Cirrina: bye......

_______________________________________________

Neta: alright!! Drive safe!!!!.....*sigh*......... mahi go home.

Mahi: I just got here! And I'm not being annoying. Please can I stay just one more night please

Neta: No, I didn't sleep well last night and I just had to babysit two kids. Let me have my peace. You've been staying here for a week. You practically live here. I need to clean up, I need to do the dishes and vacuum the floor, laundry .. I need to clean out nibbles's box. I need to make this place look like I wasn't wallowing in my own loneliness. All right

Mahi: you can do that when I'm here. It's not going to bother you

Neta: mahi goooooo home.....

Mahi: please can I say one more night please? I won't complain about the couch

Neta: no..... good bye

Mahi: but my apartment is quiet. You complain about wallowing in your loneliness. What about me you don't think I'm wallowing

Neta: get a pet or something ... (SLAM)

Mahi: (bang).....(bang)...... Where do I get a pet

Neta:AAAAAAAAAHHHH........*sigh*.. . . You can stay. This is your last night here. Tomorrow I will take you to the pet store after work pick out whatever you want and leave me alone..

Mahi: thanks Neta!

_______________________________________________

@fish-at-fish-fish-resort mahi go home

[somedaytakethetime]

He's literally obsessed with kicking the ball at this kid in this fashion lately... show off..

Bonus of my favourite, precious dansk rotte:

[navree]

people who write jason todd (especially robin jason) as inarticulate or dumb or reticent to learning or overly bullish are literally never seeing heaven and that's a fucking fact

[nyxdimandis]

with the full disclaimer that i might be missing some context or significant piece of information & am fully welcoming anyone to inform me, i feel like. it really just doesn't seem like a huge deal that one of the "poison" storyboard artists is into "dark" kink. like this really feels like a non-issue to me

[three-plums]

i'm not much of a sci-fi person just because i've never really found those types of questions interesting in a fictional context... if that makes sense. as far as narratives go i'm more interested in the old grrm-ism "the human heart in conflict with itself." but. the extent to which dbh pissed me off has made me start reading and watching sci-fi like a lunatic.

[cinnamoonblue]

It reminds me of you

ONE SHOT - Ryomen Sukuna/Reader (female)

DESCRIPTION: Modern AU - fluff

SUMMARY: You want a Labubu so bad, especially the one which reminds you the most of your boyfriend, and he makes sure you get everything you want.

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, pet names (princess, brat, woman), reader described as a female

WORD COUNT: 2,9K

✰ MASTERLIST ✰

NOTE: This is my first Sukuna one-shot ever, and I'm so excited. I have been wanting to start writing about him for such a long time now, and recently I finally become a Labubu mami and I love them so much and they have always reminded me so much of him so I had to write this. I hope you have fun reading this short one-shot with Sukuna as your mean, rude and grumpy man to the world, but being the most carrying and sweetest boyfriend to you. I know that for a lot of you this might not be the most correct take/description of modern day Sukuna, but low-key I think that he will be a big softy for his girl. ♡ Enjoy reading ♡

!PLEASE IF SOMEONE KNOW WHO IS THE ARTIST BEHIND THIS FANART OF SUKUNA IS IN THE BANNER LET ME KNOW SO I CAN CREDIT THEM!

It all started when one day you saw a TikTok of some girl unboxing something called Labubu. The moment you saw the fluffy small monster you fell in love with it and wanted one immediately. Sadly, when you checked the website where they sell them everything was sold out.

Since that day, your boyfriend has been hearing about these so called Labubus all the time. Sukuna, being Sukuna of course, doesn’t get the hype behind them and thinks that they are just a waste of money, but you choose to ignore him and his opinion.

Tonight is Friday, surprisingly both of you have it off today from both your university and the part time jobs you have, so you have decided to just stay home and do nothing. Ordering a takeaway from the nearest ramen shop closest to your apartment, you two eat your dinner while doing your own stuffs – you snuggled up in bed watching your favorite series, while Sukuna is playing games with his friends on his computer.

Your boyfriend seems to be losing as you can hear him loud and clearly cussing out his opponents and friends, but you don’t pay much attention to it as you are quite use to this type of behavior from him.

You and Sukuna are very different as people. When you started dating two years ago it came as a surprise to everyone around you. While you are more of a layback, nice and open person, Sukuna is a menace. He is rude, he is mean, he is eighty percent of the time grumpy, and he is probably the biggest cocky asshole a person can be or meet - is what everyone will say if you ask them about your salmon haired boyfriend. What they don’t know is that they are right, but also very wrong. He is all this and even more, the list with his bad sides and qualities is quite long. What they don’t know is that your boyfriend is also the most carrying, loving and sweet boyfriend any girl in this world would dream about, but only you get the chance to call him yours.

To this day you are the only person who he has let to know him on such a deeper level. Even his closes friends, Uraume and Toji, had never seen how sweet and carrying Sukuna could be until they met you, which leaded to a lot of teasing and messing around with him from his friends, but even when it seemed like he couldn’t stand it when they do it, from the inside Sukuna didn’t really care. As long as his girl is happy, he is willing to do the best he can, so you never feel unloved or cared about.

As they night continued you have switched from watching your favorite show to scrolling on TikTok. Tonight is a very important night for you as Labubu is having a big restocking and all you want is to get your hands on two boxes – one for you and one for your boyfriend.

Even though Sukuna doesn’t like or see the hype behind them, they remind you so much of him, and because of it you want to match with your boyfriend and get him one as well.

You know that you can’t keep yourself awake till four in the morning when the release will be so instead you put alarms to wake yourself up. Getting up from the bed before you fall asleep, you go to Sukuna who is still playing and wrap your hands around him.

“I’m going to sleep now.” You say to him as you place kisses all over his face while his eyes are focused on the game he is currently playing. “Are you coming to bed soon?”

Cussing out one more time as his team loses, he takes his headphones down and turns to you. Taking your face in the palms of his hands, he pulls you closer to him as he crashes his lips into yours. The kiss you share is both aggressive and gentle at the same time, but you don’t mind.

“No, princess. All because someone doesn’t know how to play.” He says to the mic attached to the headphones from which you can hear Toji’s voice complaining about Sukuna and his skills.

You laugh when you see your boyfriend’s grumpy face and kiss his lips one more time. “Don’t take too long.” You tell him as you wish him and Toji goodnight.

Your alarm rings at exactly three fifty-eight in the morning, but in your sleepy state you turn it off and roll to the side hoping that you will find your boyfriend next to you but instead you are met with an empty bed. Sitting up in bed you open your eyes and see him still on his computer talking quietly, probably still with Toji, making sure not to wake you up.

Grabbing your phone to see what time it is, the realization hits you. The Labubu drop. It is tonight and it is happening right now. Unlocking your phone and typing the website you breathe out for a second as you see that it is loading so you still have the chance to have your hands on two boxes, after all you are just a minute late after four.

“No, no, no, no.” You scream in despair as the website crashes. This makes your boyfriend immediately turn around and look at you. Seeing you whining and hitting the pillows in the bed with all the power you have in you, he takes his headphones off and gets up from his gaming chair.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Getting in bed and wrapping his arms around you he pulls you closer to his big define with muscles body.

“I failed.” You cry as your turn towards him, burying your head in his naked chest and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Looking down at you Sukuna raises one brow. What have you failed exactly? You have already passed the last exam you had, so what it could be you failed so badly at four in the morning?

“What are you talking about?” His voice deep as always makes you look up at him.

“The Labubu war. I failed getting us Labubus.” Crying out dramatically, you bury your face again in his chest.

“Woman, are you fucking crazy?” He can’t believe that this whole scene is all about some overpriced kid’s toy. “You can’t be serious. All this at four am, for some ugly ass toy?”

Pulling away from him, you give him an offended look. “How could you call Labubu ugly?” You try to push him away from you, but this is impossible. This man is at least five times your size if anything you made things worse, as he pulls you to lay down with him.

“They are, princess.” His arms tighten around you even more as you gasp when he offended your little obsession again.

“No, Kuna they are not.” You protest once again as you try to escape your boyfriend’s deadly grip. “They are extremely cute, and you have no idea how much I want to get us some.”

“Why you keep saying us?” Easing his grip a bit he looks at you once again with confusion and a bit of irritation written all over his face.

“Because I want to get one for you as well, so we can match.” Propping on one arm on the bed you move your body a bit sideways to Sukuna’s in a way that you can balance it as you start running the fingers of your other hand through his soft salmon pink locks.

“I’m not carrying this ugly ass toy anywhere.” A makeshift of a mocking laughter escapes past his lips as he can’t believe that you want to get him one as well, even when you know that he doesn’t like them.

“You were going to put it in your car as a car charm.” Grabbing a bit of his hair in a fist you pull it playfully, making him hiss a bit from it.

“Oh, so you already decided where I’ll put it.” He playfully rolls his eyes as you nod at him.

“You know, I don’t know if I have mentioned, but they remind me of you so much.” Pushing yourself up with one hand, you cross one leg over his body and now you are sitting on top of him, tracing his tattoos with your fingers.  

“These monster looking things?”

“Yes, Kuna. These monster looking things.” You reply with a smile as you bend your body closer to him, your faces now millimeters apart. “Because they seem evil and mean from the outside, but they are actually super nice, and sweet, and cute.” With every word you say, you place a kiss on his lips. His grumpy face doesn’t change much, but you know him very well and you know that he enjoys what you are doing. “Should I stop?”

Giving you a warning look with his dark crimson eyes, you just laugh at him as you continue to kiss his lips. “I’m not cute.” He murmurs in between your kisses.

“Sure, Sukuna. Sure.” You whisper with a smile.

It has been a week since that night. You have promised yourself that you will get Labubu no matter what next time they drop, but the problem is that it won’t be any time soon. You have found a lot of resellers in your city, but the prices they sell them for are crazy and as much as you want one for you and your boyfriend you won’t spent that much money on it.

Coming home from a long shift from work and a long day from lectures all you want is to take a hot shower and snuggle up in bed. Sukuna is working tonight as well, but you don’t know when he will be home. The nightclub he works at doesn’t close until five in the morning and even if you text him, he won’t be able to response, so all you can do is guess when he might be back.

After taking your hot shower before bed your whole body feels a bit relaxed, but it is still crying for sleep. Instead of putting on pajamas, you go for one of your boyfriend’s T-shirts. The moment you put it on, you hear the front door of your apartment opening.

Walking out of the bedroom you are met with your tired boyfriend’s face. “Hey, Kuna.” You say as you go to him and wrap your arms around him. “Why home so early?”

“It was slow. They can manage without me.” He grunts as he pulls away a bit but still holds you in his arms. “I have something for you, brat.” He tells you, giving you a tired, cocky smile, the one you love so much.

You can’t help but smile. This is the real Sukuna for you, the one only you have the privilege to see - grumpy, but carrying; tired, but still very loving.

Nodding with his head, Sukuna leads you to your living room, and you both sit on the sofa. Taking his black backpack from his bag he tells you to close your eyes, and you do exactly what he tells you to do. You can hear him unzipping the bag and then taking something out of it, pulling it on the table. “Okay, open them now.”

Opening your eyes, you look at the coffee table and see what is on top of it. Gasping loudly, your eyes widen, and you can help but happily stomp with your legs on the floor. Two Labubu boxes. He got you not one, but two Labubu boxes as you wanted. “Sukuna… you… how?”

“I have my ways.” He smirks at you.

The excitement in your voice fills up the room and you can’t help but throw yourself in your boyfriend’s body. “I love you, Kuna. I love you so much.”

Wrapping his arms around your body and rolling his eyes as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, he murmurs. “Yea, yea. Me too, brat.”

Pulling away from him you give him a quick kiss on the lips before you take the boxes in your hand.

“They are not from the two different collections, one of them is the one you wanted the most, so…” Hearing this you are not surprised. He might be grumpy and seems like he doesn’t always pay attention to what you are saying, but Sukuna always listens. Of course, he has heard, and against his will, remembers all the things you have said about this stupid keychain of toys. He knows which collection you want the most, and which color you wanted, but he has managed to find only one box from it, but he hopes you like the other one as well.

“Okay, let’s open the macaron one first.” You excitedly say, as you closed your eyes and started to open the box. “I really want the pink one.”

Sukuna can’t help but smile. You are adorable. Not only now when you are all excited as a little kid about some toy, but in general. He will be lying if he says that he doesn’t love this childish side of yours. He adores it. He adores everything about you.

Finally, opening the box and the small package the Labubu is in it, you open your eyes. “Oh my, Kuna, look how cute it is.” You coo at the grey Lububu in your hands, pulling it closer to you in a hug.

“But it’s not pink.” Sukuna comments as he takes it from your hands to observe it better, still not understanding the hype.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s still super cute.” Reaching for the other box, you take a better look at it, before you open it. It is the ‘Have a Seat’ edition, the other one you wanted the most, because here is the Labubu that reminds you the most of Sukuna and you are praying to be it in the box.

Doing the exact same blind opening as you did with the first box, you take a deep breath before opening your eyes. You not only scream, but also jumped from excitement, which made Sukuna flinch in surprise.

“Calm down, woman. You’ll wake the neighbors up.”

“Baby, oh my, Kuna. Kuna, look!” You excitedly start to jump on one spot on the sofa, your excitement through the roof, because you have got the one you want the most. The salmon pink one, with red eyes with heart shapes in them. Your own Labubu Sukuna. “I got you in Labubu version.”

Turning the Labubu, towards him, Sukuna just rolls his eyes. It looks nothing like him. He is a tall, big, scary for some people man, not a pink furry monster keychain. “It looks nothing like me.” He grunts.

“Yes, it does, Kuna.” You pull him closer for a kiss. “Thank you. You made me so happy tonight.” Placing a kiss on his cheek, you also wrap your arms around him.

“Only tonight?” He slightly tilts his head to take a better look at you.

“A bit more, than usual.” You reply.

Two weeks later you, Sukuna and Toji went out for a few drinks. Sukuna didn’t drink tonight, because he has decided to go out with his car, and right now he is the only sober one, he has to drag you and Toji to where he has parked.

“Come on, get in asshole.” He tells Toji as he tries to get him to sit in the back seat of the car. Once he gets Toji to get in the car, he closes the door and gets to the driver’s seat.

“The fuck is this mouse hanging on the mirror?” Toji laughs from the back of the car as he points towards Sukuna’s grey Labubu hanging on the rear-view mirror.

“This is Labubu.” You turn around to look at Toji as you explain to him what Labubu is and you show him your salmon pink one, placed in a little car basket on the air conditioner on your side.

On your way to Toji’s place he heard everything about Labubu, and the story of how you got them. “It was last week when we went to the mall and bought them their outfits and the car seat.” You happily squeak as you take look at your Labubus. Your Labubu is dressed in a cute pink outfit, and Sukuna’s wears a black robbery mask, with a silver and gold chain around its neck and a gun in one hand.

“We are here. Now get out before you throw up in my car.” Sukuna turns to Toji as he parked in front of his place. He knows that from tomorrow Toji won’t stop making fun of him, all because of this stupid toy.

Before Toji gets out of the car, he pats Sukuna on the shoulder and leans closer to tell him something, which you don’t catch. “Aren’t you a big softy, Kuna?” Without giving Sukuna a chance to response, Toji is out of the car, as he knows how to piss his best friend off the best – call him weak for you and use the nickname only you can call him.

“What did he say?” You ask once you two are alone and Sukuna starts the engine again.

“That Labubu sucks.”

END NOTE: I hope you really liked this short one-shot. Sukuna is one of my most favorite anime men (I have only two most favorite men lol) and this is the first time ever I write something about him, so every criticism about it will be appreciated, as I plan to write a lot more about him in the future. If you liked this feel free to like, comment, reblog or message me ♡ Thank you for reading it ♡♡♡

writing, format, header © cinnamoonblue & dividers by © cinnamoonblue and @bernardsbendystraws, fanart @su2kuna on X/Twitter ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[gachagon]

Something I really liked about playing this game was that as I was playing I actually began to understand the abstract way that Ena speaks.

At first, what she says sounds like total word salad and like she's just combining random phrases together. But the more I played, the more coherent they became in a weird way? I think an example of what I mean is when she runs into Taski Maiden and Taski literally has that creepy ass jumpscare.

Ena says "Miss could you keep it down please? The pizza delivery guy is right here." At first that absolutely makes no sense at all, but after I thought about it Ena is clearly saying "Please stop scaring/startling me like that...I'm just a worker."

I think the way Enaspeak works (which is the weird way Ena's talk that I personally have just named bc idk what Joel G would call it T_T) is that it doesn't actually matter if what you say has nothing to do with the main subject at hand, as long as it belies the same emotions or feelings you hold then it's correct.

The first sentence "Miss, could you keep it down please?" is in the same bracket as asking someone to simply stop doing something, even though it might be obvious that Ena wants Taskii to either stop scaring her like that or to stop joking like that or to stop being so rude to her etc, the first sentence isn't a direct response to what Taskii said to her at all or relates to the situation.

The second sentence relates to Ena herself. "The Pizza Delivery Guy is right here." A delivery person is "just a worker" in the same vein that Ena is just a worker. The sentence carries the same kind of casualness as "I am just a worker" which is probably what Ena wants to convey. That there's no need for...jumpscares or rudeness towards her because she's just a worker, and isn't dangerous at all.

Another aspect of Enaspeak is how "random" it is. Basically, the more offtopic the Enaspeak is, the more emotion Ena is trying to convey with what she's saying. When Ena wants to be direct in Dream BBQ she does speak pretty plainly. However, when she's confused or scared her speech is "coherent" but the meaning and relation to whats happening is completely lost.

Or Joel G could just be writing whatever he thinks is funniest for Ena to say and I am a madwoman reading far too deep into it lol T_T Anyways these are my random thoughts about the funky way Ena talks.

[aha-chuu]

I'm inflicted with sadness because I write fics because I'm obsessed and I wanna chat , and my fics do pretty well on Ao3 but the discord servers I'm in are just ?? They're polite but they aren't really interested and it's really demotivating