#anyway next week im going to die actually

[forthegirlsngays]

the knowledge that eddie does cpr on buck going into the hospital is already crazy but IF I HAVE TO SEE EDDIE DO RESCUE BREATHS ON HIM YOU ARE NEVER HEARING FROM ME AGAIN

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[whsprings]

"erc can suck my dick!!!" I say as if my current situation isn't anyone's fault but my own

[ka-19]

painting of my favorite cowboy

[bloodyke]

family brought some bug into the house im gonna take a covid test tomorrow

[prodkeiji]

ep 9 is a lot to process uhm

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[jimingyue]

Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

🖋️ meowful-musings Follow

🕊️ birdwatching Follow

what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine

💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204

op wheres the natural feeding option

🌲 outdoorsy Follow

you guys are getting fed?

#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look

7,192 notes

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3

🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow

as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3

#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....

154,688 notes

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right

❤️ loving-paws284 Follow

um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...

🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow

OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD

🐟 tunafeesh Follow

also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks

anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse

#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now

32,456 notes

🍃 naturalliving Follow

BORN TO DIE

WORLD IS A FUCK

猫神 Kill Em All 1989

I am trash cat

410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS

#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly

48,971 notes

🎣 salmonpurina Follow

can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther

#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks

34 notes

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!

🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow

evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

make your own pawst

💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721

umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...

👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow

Nyaverage shelter cat behavior

#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up

545,460 notes

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo

💡 discourse-meows Follow

hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

1. i was making. a joak

2. i'm literally gay???

#literally what's your pawblem

7 notes

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

i know you fuckers are lying

🍭 gaykittens Follow

this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

shut the heull up

988,653 notes

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise

🐁 ladymouser Follow

op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us

[29121996]

.

[4giorno]

girl this is why i hate playing multiplayer games like this ⚰️

[kings-highway]

some safe-for-work headcanons regarding how they might of gone about having sex for the first time for some of my favouritr haikyuu ships:

daisuga: look you know these bitches had it scheduled. not like a meticulous planned thing, but it was definitely something they knew was going to happen in advance. Like they talked about it, agreed they both wanted it, and then 3 weeks later Suga's parents go away for the weekend and they know like a solid week in advance that their "hang out" on Saturday evening is basically exclusively so they can have sex. They're very prepared. This also probably makes that week of training super annoying for the team bc they cant figure out why their captains are being SO overly giggly like you are seventeen/eighteen year old men wtf is going on.

iwaoi: i've always thought they were probably way more nervous than any of their friends assumed and definitely did not have sex as early as people thought. like mattsun and makki both constantly tease them in a way that insinuates they're actively having sex but they probably didnt actually do it until like... the last few months of high school. They were both just nervous! Iwa was very afraid of rushing things and doing it "wrong," and Oikawa wasnt even sure what doing it "right" would be so they had like 6 false-starts before they actually managed it.

ushiten: dorm living is not condusive to intimacy so when for the first time in like 8 months since they started dating that they have a confirmed evening with a locked dorm alone they end up making out for just a crazy amount of time. Tendou is too nervous to actually move anything forward because he's too anxious over the possibility of rejection but he keeps making these weird half-insinuations like "haha I cant believe nobody's going to be back for another four hours... we could do anything and get away with it... isnt that so funny... like nobody would know if we were making out or having sex or just reading a book... haha... isnt that crazy... me and you..." and he's all weird and twitchy about it until Ushijima tells him he doesn't think the idea of them having sex is crazy at all and then it is on immediately.

kuroken: highkey, kuroo probably lays out like a whole romantic, corny ass evening with candles and rose petals and is prepared to have a whole long conversation about being "ready" and Kenma just sort of rolls his eyes and is like "have you finished talking? this is Too Much. I need you to understand this is Too Much. Oh my god I love you but WOW." (it works anyway and Kenma is sufficient wooed).

tsukkiyama: this one might be a little out there but I genuinely think they're the most likely to have it happen by accident, or in a spontaneous moment of opportunity. Like they both intend to just take advantage of the empty house with only a bit of making out and then suddenly they're losing their clothes and it's like "we'll have a conversation about it tomorrow, im sure."

kagehina: okay this one is more stupid but I imagine after they've been dating a while Hinata is like "you know what, im ready to take the next step" but Kageyama cannot read ppl so Hinata's somewhat obvious attempts at seduction go entirely over his head, and Hinata is getting increasingly frustrated and dramatic and trying really really hard to get Kageyama to realize what he wants and it ends up causing a fight between them because Kageyama thinks Hinata is being weird and Hinata thinks Kageyama is being intentionally distant and eventually Kageyama blows up and is like "Oh my god if you want to break up or something just say so!!!" and Hinata is like "Oh my GOD I dont want to break up with you I want to have sex with you!!!" and of course that shuts everyone up and unfortunately Yachi is probably also there and wants to die.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER (ALL I WANTED WAS YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: he can't stop himself from calling; you can't stop yourself from answering. he never speaks, but he doesn't have to—just knowing he's there is enough to lure you in. that's how it remains for weeks. that is until you mention that you're going on a risky mission and dazai has to to make an equally risky decision to keep you safe.

(wordcount: 3.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, post-defection, angsty but not awfully so (again, sorry, i swear there's happier ones coming), implied alcoholism, dazai gets a bit jealous, ango cameo)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: OKAYYYYYY this was actually my first pm!reader and pmzai fic, believe it or not, it's been in my notes app for ages. i tried to fix most of the inconsistencies. as always, can be read as a standalone butttt for the people following the pm!reader universe, this comes directly after death by a thousand cuts! i hope you guys enjoy!! im actually rlly excited to finally get this fic out here!

He calls you sometimes.

Well, you don’t know for sure it’s him—he never speaks, if you’re lucky sometimes you can hear soft puffs of air from the other line, and the number is always unknown, but you know in your heart that it’s him. 

The first call came three days after you found him drunk in an alley—seven months after his defection. 

The unknown caller ID popped up on your phone while you were drinking with Chuuya in his apartment, trying to forget all about Dazai Osamu and all of the pain he’s brought you. You answered it irritably and when you got no response from the caller, you promptly told them to fuck off and die if they’re going to waste your time with prank calls. You expected them to hang up right away but they didn’t—in fact, they only hung up when they heard Chuuya shouting for you to get off the phone so he can open another bottle of wine, as if he wasn’t going to anyway. 

The next call came another three days after that. 

You were in a meeting with Mori when the unknown caller popped back up on your phone screen. You excused yourself to answer the phone only because you were desperate for a reason to get out of the meeting—you think that he might’ve somehow sniffed out that you ran into Dazai and if he outright asked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to lie without him catching you in it. 

Regardless of the reasoning, you were even more pissed off than you were the first time when you heard the silence on the other end, accusing them of fucking with you and demanding to know how they got your number—again, the person didn’t say anything, and you hung up even more irate than you were the first time. 

It takes three more calls for you to put the pieces together—it’s a bit embarrassing how long it took you, but in your defense, you were trying to put Dazai Osamu as far from your mind as possible. Honestly, you weren’t even sure of it when you first guessed his name. It’s a shot in the dark when you answer the unknown caller for the fifth time and whisper, “Dazai?” so very hesitantly. Your confirmation comes in the form of a sharp inhale on the other line before it instantly goes dead. 

He doesn’t call again for two weeks, and when he finally does, it’s in the middle of the night. The buzzing of the phone woke you up, your alarm clock glowing a bright 3:15 am. You don’t even look at the caller—you figure it’s Chuuya, who has yet to return from his mission in Sendai—as you answer with a groggy “what?” 

You get no response besides the sound of a shaky breath on the other end and suddenly you’re wide awake as you realize who exactly called. He doesn’t speak, even as you make yourself sick with anger—he’s conscious and coherent this time, unlike the time you ran into him in the alley, so you take the opportunity to unleash all of the pent up rage and hurt that you’d withheld that night. You cry for the first time since he defected and he stays on the line the whole time, until you eventually exhaust yourself and fall asleep. When you wake up in the morning, he’s hung up, but the call time reads four and a half hours. 

It becomes a weekly occurrence—occasionally biweekly. 

Sometimes, you tell him about your day, rambling on about how you were irritated because Mori made you deal with Ace or complaining about recent territory issues that the Port Mafia has been facing—something that you probably shouldn’t be sharing on an unsecure line with someone who defected from the mafia, but you can never bring yourself to fully care because it’s Dazai. 

Other times, you just lay in bed quietly, exhausted after a full day of work, the phone resting next to your ear as doze off to the comforting sound of his steady breathing. 

You don’t tell anyone. 

If anyone knew you’re keeping in contact with a traitor, you’d be executed. You think that Chuuya might know—the two of you now share the penthouse of the westernmost skyscraper of the five buildings of the Port Mafia’s base and you know he’s smart enough to have put together who you’re talking to late at night. But if he does, he doesn’t say anything, because he too knows what the consequences of your actions would be if it were true.

You let out a soft puff of air as your phone begins buzzing—it’s well past midnight and you’re half asleep, but you roll over and pick up the phone with heavy eyes.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Dazai doesn’t respond, he never does, but you can hear him breathing on the other line, closer to the speaker than he usually is. You can’t help but notice that his breath is heavier than usual too, a bit shakier. 

He’s been drinking, you realize. You figured that he usually drinks on the nights that he calls you, but he never lets himself close enough to the speaker for you to figure out if it’s true. You just hope it’s not as bad as….

“I won’t be able to answer for a while after this,” you say quietly after a few moments, rolling over in bed to shift your face closer to the phone. “Mori assigned me another mission. An infiltration one—first one since you’ve been gone.”

Dazai would know the implications of that, and from the way he inhales sharply at your words, you know he does instantly, even in his drunken state. 

Whenever you were sent on infiltration missions, Dazai was always the one in your ear, making sure that you got in and out safely. You refused to take infiltration missions unless Dazai and his freakish prophetic ability was the one on comms for you because you knew he’d be able to figure out if you’ve been compromised before the enemy have even figured it out for themselves. 

But you had known it was only a matter of time before Mori put you back on them. You’re the best suited in the Port Mafia for them and the recent issues with that gang that’s been moving into the northern wards from Asakusa all but demands interference from the inside lest you guys will be dealing with another major gang war and the city can’t handle that. 

“I’m nervous,” you admit for the first time, voice little over a whisper. “I don’t trust anyone but you to be my eyes and ears. Plus this mafia is... They're very violent. Kawabata leads it. I faced off against him in Osaka before he moved into Tokyo, back when I was still in Kyoto. It's... risky. It's been years but I'm worried he'll recognize me. I don't know why Mori is insisting on me being the one to go in.”

You swear you hear Dazai take in another breath, as if he was about to say something this time, but he doesn’t. Your throat feels swollen and your eyes feel misty, jaw tight. Not for the first time, you miss Dazai. You miss him so desperately that you swear your chest caves in at the thought of him. 

You want to hate him but you know you can’t. You've come to accept that already. But you think you still might like to pretend you can.

You told yourself after you ran into him that night that you’d push him from mind, you’d forget about him. You knew that one day you’d meet him again—you and Dazai Osamu have been entwined since the day you met, fate has a lot left in store for the two of you for things to just so abruptly end—but until that day, you have to focus on what matters. And what matters is the Port Mafia.

But how are you supposed to forget him when he can’t even bring himself to fully leave you behind? You think it’s cruel of him, and you think that you should ignore his calls until he finally gives up, but you can’t bring yourself to because no matter how much you preach about forgetting him, if the choice of keeping contact with him arises, you’ll always choose it.

“I miss you,” you breathe out, voice cracking over your words. “I miss you so much that it hurts, Dazai. i-“

The line goes dead. 

The words on your lips die as soon as you realize he hung up, heart sinking. You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling before curling over onto your side, hoping to at least get a little sleep before your early wake up call for mission prep. 

But it’s a naive hope—you know that you’ll never sleep tonight, not with thoughts of Dazai Osamu racing through your mind. 

Dazai shouldn’t be doing this. 

His knuckles are white as he sits at a row of monitors in a locked down ex-government facility. On each of the screens are different vantage points of the main base of the Scarlet Gang, the mafia that had been run out of the Asakusa ward of Tokyo by the Sun and Steel and is now challenging the Port Mafia. 

Ango is pacing somewhere behind him, expression tight and arms crossed against his chest. Dazai knows that he’s livid over this, but Dazai also does not care because he doesn’t think that Ango has a right to be livid about anything that Dazai does anymore. 

He’s been here for three days already. His knees are tucked to his chest as he sits on the spinning chair, bags heavy beneath his eyes and hair matted and oily after days of sitting in front of the screen without budging an inch. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off the screen—not when your life is on the line, and especially not when he’s not even on a direct comms line with you. All he has is a burner cell and hope that you at least take a look at your phone if he has to send a text.

If this mission is like every other infiltration mission you’ve been sent on, it’ll be another two days before your planned extraction—and if you have the same luck you always do, the mission will go smoothly. But Dazai has a dark feeling in his gut, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s because he has no control over the mission or if something bad really is going to happen, there have already been some suspicious signs and he doesn't trust Mori. Your whole comment about his insistence on you going keeps scratching the back of his head like he's missing something, because there's no way Mori would ever risk losing your ability, especially to Kawabata. The man is always scheming, and Dazai is certain there's one simmering below the facade of this mission but he just can't figure out what. Either way, he knows he can't risk stepping away for even a moment. 

“I thought you were done with this, Dazai.” Ango finally has the nerve to voice what dazai knows he’s been itching to say for three days. “I thought-“

“Maybe you should stop thinking,” Dazai says dryly, his head hurts and sweat is beading beneath his arms. Three days without drinking is affecting him way more than he thought it would, but he can’t afford to be inebriated for this.

“Dazai-“ Ango begins.

“I’m not doing this for the Port Mafia,” Dazai cuts him off, dark eyes dragging across the screen to where he sees you laughing with one of the members of the Scarlet Gang, leaning in close with a teasing smile. 

You’re beautiful. Stunning. He can’t blame the way the man you’re talking to seems to gravitate closer to you, enamored by the sound of your voice and the way your eyes glitter beneath the room’s chandelier, but he still wishes he could put a bullet through his head. 

He hasn’t seen you since the day before he left—well, he doesn’t remember seeing you since then, at least. He has some suspicions regarding the part of his ear that mysteriously went missing the night he woke up in one of your shared safehouses, but this is his first time really seeing you and it makes his chest feel sick and heavy to know you’re so out of reach and by his own doing, nonetheless.

His eyes narrow as he watches the man reach out to brush his fingers against your arm. His lips twist down even more when his gaze tracks down to your lips—this is always his least favorite part of being on comms for your infiltration missions. 

“You won’t be able to oversee all of her infiltration missions anymore, Dazai,” Ango says, voice a bit more gentle and Dazai has a distinct urge to rip out the man’s vocal cords. “Once I get your records clear and you’ve joined up with the Agency, you’re going to have to leave this all behind for good. All of it.”

Dazai doesn’t respond. His lips press together tight as Ango’s words register. He knows that he’s right, that if he wants to honor Odasaku’s final wishes, then he has to leave everything behind—even you—but he can hardly even bear the thought of it. Never seeing you again, never hearing your voice again, he thinks that a life without you is not a life worth living. 

He thought that he’d be able to do it, that he’d be able to cut you off just like everyone else, but it only took one drunken night at a bar when he stared at old pictures of you for a bit too long for him to give in to the aching feeling in his chest, the desperate need to at least hear your voice one last time. 

Except one last time turned into another and another; as much as Dazai Osamu likes to pretend to be strong, he’s always been weak at heart for you. From he moment he met you three years earlier during the Dragon’s Head Conflict—sent with Chuuya by Mori to retrieve you after finding out the squad sent to escort you back had been decimated by an ability user—he’s known that he was out of his depth when it comes to you. 

He was already curious to begin with, Mori doesn’t speak highly of anyone but he did speak highly of you, and at first Dazai assumed it was just because you were a girl, and a young one at that. Everyone knows Mori’s gross fascination with them. But when they found you mid-conflict with an ability user, trying to hold your own with only a gun and some rubble as shields to defend yourself from sweltering flames, he realized that maybe there was more that meets the eye to you. 

You’re beautiful—god, he can never stress it enough, words don’t do you justice. Wicked smart. Can talk your way into and out of any situation. Have a bounty on your head high enough to rival his own. From the day he met you, Dazai knew you were everything he’s ever wanted. And yeah, maybe it took him too long to come to terms with that, but it doesn’t make the feelings any less powerful.

Sometimes, when he drinks just a bit too much and he finds himself staring at old pictures of the two of you that he’d taken, he wonders if you would have come with him if he told you what he was doing. He wonders if maybe he hadn’t been a coward, you would be with him right now instead of risking your life on an infiltration mission with some incompetent moron on comms instead of him. He wonders if maybe he would have kissed you on that same bridge he tried to kill himself during that first week he spent drunk and alone. 

He doubts it. In his heart, he’s pretty sure you’d always choose the Mafia over him, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes.

“I don’t care” Dazai finally says, his voice rougher than he intended as he gives Ango a cold look from the corner of his eye. “I won’t let her die on a bullshit mission because some clown is on comms for her.” 

Ango doesn’t get a chance to respond again because Dazai’s eyes are drawn back to the monitors, where a conversation is taking place on the far side of the room. A conversation that has them looking in your direction a bit too often for his liking.

Dazai inhales, rising to his feet, shoulders and arms tensing as his eyes trace the screen, trying to figure out if he should send you a warning. If he’s wrong, it’ll have completely blown your mission and it would put you at risk if Mori or any of the other executives start questioning you as to why you abandoned the mission for no reason.

But if he’s right… 

Dazai is good at many things, and he’s always been quick to be the one on comms with you because he, better than anyone else in the mafia, is good at reading and predicting enemy moves. He always knows in his gut what’s about to happen, you would sometimes joke that it was his real ability, some form of foresight and you would be less joking when you nudge his shoulder and tell him that you’re glad you have his ‘freaky prophetic ability’ otherwise you’d have been dead a long time ago.

Dazai grits his teeth. He feels Ango approaching him from behind but ignores him, mind racing as he tries to calculate the best course of action.

Finally, he takes the burner phone and shoots you a short message: compromised. 

And then he waits. 

The longest and most tense minute of his life passes as he watches you on the screen, waiting to see if you’ll even bother to check your phone. He doesn’t think that he’ll be able to stay in the room if it turns out you are compromised and stuck in enemy territory—he’d feel helpless, unable to do anything but watch and pray to a god he barely believes in that you get out okay. 

Come on, he thinks to himself as one of the men begins making his way in your direction, nails digging into his palms so deeply that blood began to flow from the crescents. Come on, check your phone. 

And then you do. 

He lets out a shaky breath of relief when he sees you pull out your phone, eyes tracing the message on your screen rapidly. A flurry of emotions rocket across your face, and for a moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to cry.

But then you smile again, leaning in and clasping the man’s hand and leaning in to brush your lips against his cheek before making your way out of the room. He doesn’t dare look away until you’ve slipped out of sight from the cameras littered throughout the building and out of danger. 

Without another word, Dazai turns to leave the old facility.

“Dazai,” Ango calls after him.

Dazai ignores him, snapping the burner phone. You’re safe—that’s all that matters. Now he can go back to drinking himself away and dreaming of what could’ve been. 

Two days later, Mori sends you away on a mission abroad that lasts the next three years. That night was the last time he had any sort of contact with you until you’re finally brought back.

[justwinginglife]

Hi! Im not sure if you're open some request or I might give you some idea. I wonder what Hoshina's reaction when his s/o asked him curious question “what if I disappeared one day?"

Feel free to ignore this request! ^^

Omg my first request- hi! So sorry, this got so much sadder than I wanted it to be but the short answer is the poor guy just can't live without you.

My One & Only

You knew marrying Soshiro Hoshina was going to be the best decision of your entire life. You'd give up a winning lottery ticket just to be able to stand next to him at the altar. Marrying him was like winning the lottery anyway, only he was a lot more attractive than a couple of numbers in your bank account.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of waking up in the middle of the night just to check the time and realizing he was wrapped around you tightly like he couldn't sleep without your skin on his. Even when he'd roll off of you, some part of him would always be touching you, whether it was his leg thrown over yours, or his arm under your neck, or even just his shoulder snug against your shoulder. He needed to touch you like he needed to breathe. And you'd never get tired of it.

Your favorite part was when you'd get up to start getting ready for work, or even just to go to the bathroom, and he'd feel you move and roll over to you mumbling "Wait... don't go, I haven't said I love you yet, okay I love you," sleep still dripping from his voice, and then he'd conk out again. You'd kiss him on the forehead, cheek, lips, anywhere really, and then whisper back, "I love you too baby." And even if he was out cold, he'd smile like he heard you.

You loved everything about being married to him, even the fights- because he couldn't stay mad at you for long. The longest fight you'd had with him in the years you'd been together lasted less than 24 hours- you'd had enough of his pouting and his cold shoulder, and so you did what any rational person would do when they wanted to go to bed and have their significant other actually come to bed with them, you stripped naked. Ended that argument real quick. In fact, he was in the bed before you even got your panties all the way off, he wanted to help.

But, after only being legally married for a few weeks, you finally discovered one thing you did not like about being married. You'd have to have the talk with him. What happens if one of you dies?

Insurance companies wanted to know, your jobs wanted to know. Honestly, you hated to talk about it, but some part of you wanted to know as well.

So one day, you sat him down to talk about life insurance, emergency contacts, all the things you don't want to talk about when you're freshly married, but that need to be talked about anyway. Who do you want me to call first if you're in an accident? Do you want to be resuscitated if you're injured beyond belief and wouldn't be able to live a normal life again even if you were brought back from the brink of death? Do you want to be cremated or buried?

Then, under the guise of talking all things rational and logical, you slipped in a question you'd secretly wanted to know. "What if I... disappeared one day? What would you do?"

He went silent, gripping the legal paperwork in his hands tightly. You hadn't expected the vast amount of pain that would stain his eyes and spill over to darken his face. You reached over to rub his hand until he loosened his hold on the papers. He sighed.

"Like if you... went missing? Or... died?" He asked, the words like knives scraping out of his throat, threatening his very livelihood.

You nodded slowly.

"Well... if you were... missing, I'd search my whole life for you. I'd never give up. And if you... died. I'd be right there with you." He said solemnly.

You wanted to stop this conversation right now and tell him something like you'd never die or you'd never go missing, anything to erase the hurt that he was in right now because of you. But you couldn't stand the thought of you actually dying or going missing and him spending his whole life in pain because he couldn't move on.

You kneel on the floor in front of him and grab both his hands which have now been balled up into fists. You kiss at his fists and keep kissing them until his hands relax and wrap around your hands. He's shaking but he holds onto you tight like you'll disappear if he lets go.

"Baby." You say, making sure you have his attention. He won't look at you, it's like he knows what you're going to say. He always knows what you're going to say.

You pull a hand away from his trembling fingers and cup his face with it, stroking smoothly at his cheek. "If I die, I want you to promise me you'll live on and be happy."

He shakes his head no immediately. "Can't do that, love."

You smile at him warmly. "Baby. It'll be okay. I want you to be happy."

For the first time in your life, you think you might make him cry. If this weren't such a depressing moment, you might tease him about the Vice Captain of the Third Division being such a crybaby. But you can't tease him. You can't even seem to get anymore words out when you see the state he's in. He's acting like you're dead right now. His face has gone pale and clammy and his fingers must be bruised from pressing into your skin so hard to make sure you're still there. His eyes... you almost can't look at his eyes anymore as you see the tears start to collect. It's like he's drowning but there's no bottom so he just keeps sinking and sinking.

"I-" He starts but this time the words get stuck. He blinks and the force of it pushes a tear over the edge. You watch as it trails down his cheek, feeling helpless but also in a heartbreaking way, feeling so very loved by him. He swallows and then clears his throat. "I-I'm happy.... because you're here. How could I... be h-happy... without.. without you?"

You can't take it anymore. You stand up and throw your arms around him, hoping maybe he'll forget this whole conversation if you smother him with enough love. He pulls you in even closer to him and sighs deeply, like he's exhaling his first fresh breath of air after being submerged for so long. You think you might crack a rib from how tight he's holding onto you, but you're scared to pull away, having never seen him so vulnerable like this.

"Don't cry baby, you're going to make me cry." You mumble into his shoulder.

"Don't die then. Don't give me a reason to cry."

You smile against his shoulder. "Alright baby. You got me. I won't die. Ever."

He runs his fingers through your hair and you wonder if the repetitive motion is to soothe him or you. "That's my girl," he murmurs against your neck as he nuzzles up against you.

"That's my girl," he repeats again, "My one, my only."

[temis-de-leon]

When Greed is too much

Characters: Mammon x gn!MC

Main Masterlist

M. Anon: good day, tennis. im an anon who lurks around your work. i find your work fascinating and I hope you may make a small oneshot for me. can you make a mammon x reader fanfiction? the pronounce doesn't matter. and the fanfiction could be about mammon and reader sneaking out frequently because mammon likes to gamble and they get caught one day and mammon took all of the blame for himself. i think it would be a good idea for a oneshot. but putting that aside, I adore your work. i like how you describe everything and your headcanons are interesting. i hope you can keep uploading. sending platonic loves.

A/N: I got a little distracted and made Mammon feel guilty af instead of taking the blame, I'm sorry, I hope you like it anyways <3 A little reference right at the end

.

Mammon had a complicated relationship with money.

He loved it too much to hate it and he needed it enough to forgive the danger it brought within. He would inlay it under his skin if he could, if Lucifer let him, making him shine under the lights like a kaleidoscope.

Cold metal between his fangs to check its authenticity, smooth paper sliding through his fingers, hard plastic shaping his wallet. Jewellery, clothes, his car. He had them because he needed it in any way, shape or form, like water to fish, riches to him. A bottomless pit that got bigger and bigger the more he threw in.

His fingers were longer and thinner than his brothers’ and more than once he had wondered if his sin had modified his body to easily indulge in it. He was also the fastest runner when he needed to and he could turn his words to honey if the situation required it. An opportunist thief, even if he disliked the term.

And he knew stealing wasn’t okay, but no amount of Lucifer’s punishments would stop him from doing so. He could manage hanging upside down for hours on end and, even when the lectures were painfully boring and made him want to die, sitting in the same position for as long as his brother decided was something he could live through. Lotan, or rather the flood it implied, was a bothersome threat and, although terrifying, the witches wouldn’t seriously hurt him unless Lucifer knew he could take it.

Still, constantly going through that was annoying, so he went to the next best thing, a place where condemned souls like him got together and did what pleasured him the most: bring money to the table. The wheel of fortune laid deep in his chest; sometimes he deceived himself, others, he was right.

Fortunately for his ego, his dignity and his integrity, Mammon had found his perfect lucky charm. Human shape and devoted to him, every time MC joined him in his escapades, his wallet came back home fatter than when they left. It was refreshing and addicting and it didn’t take him too long to actually need MC’s presence each time he left the house to gamble.

At first it was just once or twice every week and a half, then at least once a week, then three times a week, then every night. He would invite them to his room, taking advantage of the alibi their relationship offered, hang out and fool around until every single one of his brothers was asleep and then sneak out through the garage door.

It was a fun, bonding time between them. Holding hands while running from one corner of the town to another, pockets heavier and heavier as the night went by and clothes reeking of the cigars, alcohol and perfume of those who pushed them around amidst the chaos of the casino.

Mammon lived for all of that, especially now that MC was by his side, watching him thrive and win, over and over and over again. In their eyes, he succeeded and he was the one to carry the golden medal. Not his brothers, not their friends, him.

Eventually, he did what he did best and pushed his luck.

After an outstanding winning streak, they finally got to the night when everything went astray, losing every bet and every game, eventually finding themselves deep in debt with the casino and a bunch of furious patrons and, although begrudgingly, admitting that a period of restraint was long overdue.

And then they got home.

“When will you learn?” Lucifer said for the hundredth time while tightening the rope around his torso and trapping his hands behind his back.

“C’mon! It wasn’t that bad!”

He tried to smile to downplay the situation, but it came out wobbly and his fear was too obvious for his brother to ignore. Lucifer grinned with malice, eyes darkening in evil enjoyment before bending down to tie Mammon’s ankles together, slow in his movements and his words.

“Do you truly think this would’ve ended well? We both know you’re an idiot, but the limits you’re willing to cross outstand me. Bringing MC into this? Really? You moronic dimwit… I thought you would be the last to put them in danger. Alas, I was wrong”

“I’ve never put them in danger”

His immediate response brought Lucifer back to his feet, both of them now serious and locking eyes with each other. Mammon felt the rough edges of the rope scraping his skin, uncomfortably keeping him in place under his brother’s infuriated gaze.

“Taking them out of the house for hours every night, making them play games against lowlife demons and risking their safety for a few coins, what is that to you if not jeopardizing their life?”

“A few coins? We made ourselves rich!”

“Is that what bothers you about what I just said?”

“I’m telling you they were safe with me!”

Lucifer sighed, shaking his head in disappointment and going around Mammon. A noise coming from behind filled him with dread and he didn’t have time to beg for more time before something pulled his feet to the side and his body hit the carpeted floor. It barely softened the fall and soon his pained groans reached every corner of the staircase.

“You truly never learn”

“I’ll do it! I’ll learn! Please don’t leave me here! You can’t abandon your baby brother here, can’t you? It was an honest mistake!”

“Mammon”

After securing the rope around one of the beams from the ceiling, the eldest took a few steps down and looked at him from above. His voice was low, hopeless, and Mammon found that more hurtful than the strong grip around his limbs or the pounding on his head.

“You’re lucky MC’s heart shines brighter than mine” Lucifer said, leaving him speechless “One of these days you will go too far and I’m not sure who will be there to catch you”

“What…?”

“Rest well, Mammon” he continued to go down the stairs, not bothering to look at him anymore. He spoke one last time before disappearing completely. “And think about what I said, will you?”

Lucifer’s footsteps merged into the night, the lights turned off and, suddenly, Mammon found himself alone.

He was still wearing the clothes he’d chosen to go to the casino hours ago, jewellery dangling over his face and DDD threatening to fall out of his pocket. The screen lightened up, showing MC’s name, and the desperation to answer the call made him squirm enough to ultimately make the phone fall to the bottom of the stairs. He grimaced at the cracking sound.

Asmo would say it was karma for being a scumbag and he didn’t know if he should start believing that.

He wasn’t a scumbag, was he? MC was fine! Not a scratch in their pretty face to complain about and every bit of their outfit still in place and making them look even better. They had been smiling when they finally got to the garage door, shallowly breathing while they checked him out in search of any type of damage.

They were fine.

They had been smiling because they’d been having fun. Or was it out of relief? Heart beating in fear, terrified about him and the punishment that awaited them both once Lucifer found them.

Mammon craned his neck, looking at the remains of his DDD with a sting in his throat. Why did MC call him? Were they mad at him? Did they have enough? The thought of actually putting them in danger for a piece of metal, easily ripped paper or soon to be frozen plastic made his hear stop in panic.

He was a fast runner, an immortal demon with wings. It was easy for him to flee and leave his troubles behind, but MC didn’t have the same advantages. They were a human, flesh and soul in close proximity, easy to eat and forget.

A gasp escaped him at the image of his partner being tore apart and he shook his head trying to chase it away, but it was no use. He closed his eyes and it was there, like an omen or a reminder, Lucifer’s words roaring in his mind.

His name got louder and louder until It finally sounded right next to his ear. A hand cupped his neck and MC’s worried face appeared in his line of vision, but the remorse didn’t let him feel relief.

“Are you okay? Let me get you down. I got out as soon as I could, but I’m sure Lucifer knows I’m here anyways. What a way to end the night…”

He huffed at their whispers, his heart breaking piece by piece. Looking at MC and the way they carefully untied the knots, he knew Lucifer was right. The dumb human was too good for him and didn’t want to acknowledge it, choosing instead to stick by his side each day until it would be too late.

“I’m sorry” he finally said in a broken voice.

“For what, dummy?”

“I put you in danger”

MC chuckled, kissing his jaw before freeing his arms and watching the rope fall down. Mammon leaned forward until he touched his feet, noticing his body burning while he worked the knots that creased the leather in his boots.

“How did you put me in danger?” they asked with a hint of humour in their voice “As far as I know, I went with you willingly and we had a bad night. It was bound to happen after winning that much money”

“But they almost attacked us…”

“We got out of there just in time” MC interrupted him, then frowned and put their hands on their hips. “Did Lucifer said something to you?”

“No”

The lie was obvious and MC licked their teeth in poorly contained fury. Seconds later, Mammon finally set himself free and swung on the rope to reach the banister. Once he settled and stood straight, MC rushed to hug him. Both of them stayed silent and basking in the comfort that surrounded them.

He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg them not to reprimand Lucifer and he wanted to thank them for freeing him and staying with him beyond what he definitely deserved, but no words came out and forcing them would make him cry; and doing that in front of MC would definitely kill him faster than Lucifer could ever do.

In the end, none of them said anything, instead clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Slowly, as if they were handling a wounded animal, MC grabbed his hands and lead him towards their room.

What did that human movie say?

He’d die for them. He’d kill for them. Either way, what bliss.

.

.

[tojivu]

Helloo!! I've came across ur fics a few times and it never fail to makes me smile, and I have an idea from scrolling on tiktok for a whole week, I'm not sure if ur reqs are still open... But may I request the orange peel theory with jjk men n boys? Your pick on who u want to write in that scenario! If ur req is close pls ignore this! Thank you and I hope you have an amazing day!

the things i do for you ! ⋆ jjk men

the orange peel theory ˖ gojo, geto, toji, nanami.

an. honestly i'm still kind of ??? on what exactly is the orange peel theory but i'm assuming it's just acts of service? im so sorry if its wrong LOL pls i don't keep up with tiktok......

an ii. ok i did end up getting the prompt wrong but i hope yall like this anyway..

cw. sfw. f!reader. not proofread. acts of service.

playing. lovesong by beabadoobee.

GOJO SATORU is a familiar face at the local coffee shop down the block — and no, it's not because he keeps raiding their cheesecake displays. he much prefers the ones across the street; he only comes by this particular one to pick up your favourite coffee.

"toru, could you get something for me at the coffee place?"

"yeah, i can," he hums. "what do you need, baby?"

it's actually only a 5 minute walk, and you never told satoru your order. it was too specific that you were sure he would forget; so you just told him to buy an iced latte and be quick with it. after all, you could never go wrong with such a basic drink.

"'s okay, baby," he presses a quick kiss to your cheek, confident he would not come back home with a boring latte. "i'll get you something even better."

"please don't. your taste in coffee is terrible — no, forget it, i can just go by myself later." you groan, wriggling around in the sheets of your bed to find that warm spot in the blankets; satoru was up since 6am, and you've only just opened your eyes.

"oh, no need for that," your boyfriend smirks: almost too creepily. "i have great taste! both in coffee and women—"

you smack his arm, using your hands to gesture a shoo-ing motion. you weren't conscious enough to tolerate satoru's gross flirtations. his eyebrows furrow and lips pout, quickly planting another kiss on your forehead before standing up. he scrambles through the desk drawer for his sunglasses — eventually finding them and leaving the house.

little did you know that your boyfriend has your order memorised — it was a small order, not that difficult to remember. satoru didn't think it was necessary to make you get up and grab it yourself; he had legs, and he liked the fresh air, too. plus, he knows he'll get to see you smile first thing when you wake up; perhaps you might give him one of those kisses on the forehead that he loves so much.

you thought he would have called you lazy for not getting up — he would be offended you think so little of him if you admitted that. satoru sees your sleepy face, hears your peaceful snores and he thinks he would rather die by impalement than wake you.

when satoru returns, you're still tucked into bed and fast asleep. he leaves the coffee on the nightstand before kneeling down and leaving the third kiss of the day, right on your lips — and it's then that he realises that you have him so in love that he's willing to spend $8.95 every morning for the rest of his life on overpriced coffee.

────────────────────────

GETO SUGURU holds the most romantic date nights, but there's only one thing you don't particularly enjoy — that being there's always so much walking involved.

yes, you think the opportunity to just take a breath and link pinkies with suguru is nice; it's just that your shoes tend to undo themselves no matter how many bunny ears you tie. your laces have been through war — the plastic aglets have been long lost and the loose string is practically just that. they're starting to pull apart from eachother that you consider just wearing heels for the next few dates until you find better ones.

"we just need to turn the corner—"

suguru's words are cut off by your sighs. you look down at your shoelaces and they are once again untied; the pout on your lips make his curve upward, after he lets out a sigh of his own.

"i really need to get you new shoes," suguru mutters. "they've definitely been through it."

"can you tie them for me?"

it's a simple request that gets suguru on one knee, dress pants stained by the concrete dust, as you patiently wait for him to finish tying the knots he's so skilled at.

"the ones you tie never come out."

"that's a lie," suguru says, his voice a little muffled with the distance between your heads. his rough fingers miss the loop and he opts to restart the knot. "i tied them before we left the house, and look at them now."

your face flushes at that. he sees through your lie like glass — you were always so easy to read.

"i just like the way you tie them, sugu. plus, they only untied because i redid them myself."

"yeah, i think it's because i don't tie them like a preschooler," suguru teases — he ties the knot tightly and stands up. "you should learn how to tie them the right way, baby."

you shake your head, and he raises an eyebrow at your reaction. his left pinky reaches for yours again, before you two start to walk once more.

"why do i need to learn if i have you?"

there's silence for a bit, nothing but cars honking and chattering from the people enjoying the nightlife just as you were — you almost retract your statement when suguru looks at you expectantly.

"is that so?" suguru chuckles at your response. "i guess you're right."

you giggle at his seemingly sarcastic reply — but you don't see the way he smiles, the way the tips of his ears burn, nor do you hear the loud thumping of his heart that tell he is being serious.

────────────────────────

TOJI FUSHIGURO doesn't know what small is.

well, everything about him is big — his body, his mind, his bank account, his heart.

it took you awhile to figure that last one out, though. toji always does the big things. the extravagant, flaunting, costly things. it's only small to him, and it often takes you a lot of convincing to get him to not spend hefty amounts of cash on you.

he feels it's necessary, to take care of his sweet girl like any man should — toji knows nobody can pamper you as well as he does, so he makes sure his money is spent wisely in making you feel safe and content.

you don't know how to tell him that there's no need for all of it, that you just want him to be with you — it's only until one day when you're coughing and sneezing in bed that you have to, after toji's constant pestering about hiring a family doctor.

"tch, baby," toji's voice echoes throughout the spacious bedroom. "shit—you're burning up."

"i'm fine," your voice is hoarse, nose crinkling at the incoming sneeze. "achoo!—"

he frowns, and the scar on his lip shifts downward. he sits on the edge of the bed, thick fingers moving stray hairs away from your face. "told ya we shouldn't have gone last night."

you shake your head. "it was your friend's birthday."

"does it matter, [name]?" he sounds stern. he only ever acts strict with you when he's really worried. "y'were already falling sick yesterday."

you reach for the box of tissues, fingers trying to reach inside the packaging for another piece, but you seem to have used all of them up — the 3rd time today.

"can you stay home, toji?"

it's one simple request that has him nodding. if you didn't mention it, he thinks he would've forgotten all about work — toji was much too worried to let you stay home alone, while a random doctor he hires on the day of attends to you. he much rather take care of you himself.

"i think i'll fuckin' have to," toji answers, frown plastered on his face out of pure worry; he has no idea how happy his reply makes you — you were more than comfortable with the idea of him taking care of you. "'m too worried to let you be alone."

"thank you, toji," you smile up at him and he feels his face burn up, so much that he thinks he feels hotter than you; "you always take such good care of me."

he always does. there was no doubt about it.

it's then that toji fushiguro stands up, his feet quick in making it's way to the bathroom to prepare a cold towel to plaster on top of your forehead. his actions are quick, wanting to make you feel better as soon as possible; your pale lips and tired eyes worried him more than he'd like to admit.

he ends up cooking the worst chicken noodle soup ever, but you chug it down with a grateful smile and a kiss to toji's cheek.

"fuck," he mumbles, sounding almost annoyed. "think i'm gonna get a fever now, too."

the smirk on his face tells you everything, though — at least now he knows money can't buy this.

────────────────────────

NANAMI KENTO is the type of man to do as you please, whenever you please, even if it's something you didn't even ask for.

he loves to see the smile on your face, the way your eyes sparkle when he agrees to help you with something just because you want him to — he can never get sick of the way your voice thanks him.

this is especially true in times of emergency.

it's a friday night and you're having dinner with nanami, legs crossed underneath the marbled tabletop — your silk emerald green dress flows perfectly, hugs your body just right; you think you did a good job picking it out today.

nanami had a range of activities planned out for tonight. it was your anniversary — dinner, then a film festival, then whatever surprise he kept a secret after.

you didn't try to snoop this time, genuinely thrilled to have such a special night with your lover; you were always one to love surprises, especially the ones from nanami.

beautiful, slow tempo jazz plays in the italian restaurant — you feel like you're from a different time, enjoying such authentic food.

"ken," you smile. "you should try some of this."

he doesn't respond for a bit. he's been looking at you with dreamy eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lip; it's not until you giggle that he snaps out of whatever state he was just in.

"sorry, darling," nanami clears his throat. "you just look absolutely breathtaking tonight."

you physically feel the blood rush to your cheeks, too fast that it's almost embarrassing: kento truly knew how to fluster you.

you spin the fork in your hand clockwise, picking up a ball of pasta. "do i not look breathtaking every night?"

nanami chuckles, fingers controlling the knife sawing away at the steak that sits ready on his plate. "stop teasing. you know i think you're beautiful every second—"

plop.

your eyes widen, feeling a damp spot on your thigh. your fork suddenly feels lighter, and your eyes dart down to your dress that now has a patch of spaghetti sauce.

your eyes forcefully close shut in embarrassment, fingers rubbing your temples as you sigh.

"shit," you curse under your breath. "i'm sorry, kento."

he smiles, shaking his head. "what are you apologising for? you didn't drop it on purpose."

nanami sees the frown that drags your smile away, and he feels his heart sink. he knows you really loved that dress — and so he asks you to just enjoy your meal and that he'll make something work.

it's then that his plan derails, just a little. you two are running late to the film festival, but he couldn't think of any better solution.

"wait a little, okay?"

nanami parks the car, and his feet quickly lead him out and into the mall for a little over 10 minutes — when he returns, it's with a black bag with gold printed letters.

oddly familiar, you think.

he steps into the driver's seat, shuts the door and opens the bag: it's the same dress you're wearing, just in a different colour — blue.

nevertheless, you can't help the smile that creeps up on your face. "ken.. you really didn't—"

"yes, i had to." he interrupts. "i know it's not green, but i hope it's okay."

"thank you, love." you say, voice too sweet that nanami remembers all the reasons he does these things for you — he thinks he'll never get tired of it.

020224 — happpyy february ! also i think nanami's one is a little ermm but we rock we roll life moves on yolo :( i got lazy towards the end but i tried Okay

[livfastdieyoung69]

Guys im in my mjf era!

Mjf x reader

Mjf being his usual douchebag self but reader being his soft spot yk? And someone using reader against him to get under his skin any of his old feuds would work for this so i dont mind 👀 just LOVE a protective feral man with very little regard for himself when it comes to the people he loves 🤭

HIGH FLYING BIRD

Sting had been your idol for as long as you could remember. For decades, all you ever wanted was to be like Sting. Now here you are- on the same damn roster as him. You worked with him, by his side, every damn week. Your few years in AEW had already given you so much more experience and advice than you could’ve hoped for, especially from Steve. The only downfall of working side by side with Sting was having to work with Darby who hated, much like many others, your partner.

Speaking of Darby, he bursted into catering with a scowl on his half-painted face. Sighing into your styrofoam cup of a crisp Dr.Pepper as he plopped down into the seat between you and the beloved man himself, Sting, you turned to face him.

”Yes, Darbs?” Of course, even with his bitching over your choice of a lover, he was still a friend. Sometimes. Darby scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms and practically pouting in his seat.

”How in the hell are you with Maxwell? What do you see in him? Or is it, like, what you don’t see? Are you legally blind, Birdy?” It was your turn to scoff- at his remarks and the nickname. It’d caught on after you showed up to AEW and started doing crazy high-flying shit no one even knew was possible on day one.

“We’re not having this conversation again, Darby.”

“Yes we are. Is this a Stockholm syndrome thing? Blink twice if you need help.” Before you’re able to do anything besides point a finger in his face, you’re interrupted.

“Alright guys, let's just calm down here, please.” Steve- Sting- tries to calm the situation. Darby gives you a smug look from getting away with his remarks while you glare at him wholeheartedly.

”Talkin’ about me again, huh?” MJF leans over you, his usual asshole smirk on as his hands slide up your shoulders and lightly grasp at your sore neck, barely massaging it. Sore from saving Darby in your last tag team match with a dive through a table, actually. (And no. He didn’t say thank you. Steve did though.)

”Hey, baby.” You look up at him, glowering face replaced with a gentle smile that makes Darby cringe and grumble under his breath.

“Got somethin’ to say, dead boy?” Max asks from behind you, hands still working your neck as the atmosphere tenses even further. Steve tries to calm everyone again, but it doesn’t seem to be working as Darby stands from his chair, coming basically toe to toe with Max.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. You’re the worst damn decision they’ve ever made in the almost decade I’ve known them. I don’t even want to know how you’re manipulating them into this, but I’m sick and tired of it.” Darby’s voice keeps growing, filling the silence of the now quiet catering room, everyone watching their argument. Steve stands up, placing a hand on Darbs shoulder to try and pry him back. You might’ve gotten up to stop Max, but honestly, you just didn’t feel like dealing with this anymore. “All you’re going to do is leave them behind when you get whatever you want from them, and we’ll have to pick the pieces back up.”

Once again, Steve's attempt doesn’t work, and Max steps back into Darbys space, now quite literally toe to toe, chest to chest.

“I swear to God, the next time you suggest I would ever even imagine hurting them in anyway whatsoever, I will rip your fucking head off and let Wardlow play with it.” With a sigh, you get up from your chair and try to put a little distance from the two by pushing at Max’s chest but he won’t budge, he won’t even look at you. “Only reason I haven’t done it already is ‘cause of how much they like your little daddy over there. See how that works? If I hurt you, it’d hurt my Bird and I’d rather die than dream that into existence so I try my hardest not to think about hurting you. Let's keep it that way, capisce?”

Before Darby is able to reply, Max finally gives into your pushing and turns to leave catering, you in tow.

“Max,” You softly call for him, trying to keep up. “Max, baby,” You stumble to grab his hand and he finally comes to a stop. “Do you really have to keep threatening my friends? It’s really no wonder they don’t like you.” You teased him with a small smile, grabbing his hands in yours.

“Uh, Kris likes me, thank you very much, toots.”

”That doesn’t count, Kris just gets everything. Everyone else is dumb.” You lean back and forth on the ball of your heels, his hands keeping you stable before he gets sick of it and pulls you forward into his chest. “It’d be really nice if you could just be good for a little bit, please. Just a couple days is all I’m asking for here.”

He rolls his eyes, and gives a huge, fake groan up to the ceiling. He knew it’d make you laugh, he always knew what would. You pull your hands from his grasp and bring them up to his face, bringing him to look back at you.

“Be a good boy for me, hm?” You whispered, thumbs rubbing gently across his face. Judging from the blush covering his cheeks, it seems like you’d finally found a way to tame him.

Mwah ha ha ha this isn’t really what you asked for but kinda sorta they were rivals at one point so ???

The one funky word is the word that basically means do you understand (usually pronounced like capeesh) but I’m Italian and couldn’t bare to spell it wrong anyways he def says that and he also would def call you toots idc it’s canon in my heart

Also have no clue where the whole bird thing came from but it came and the title is the Jefferson Airplane song

Anyways kinda really like this one its cute