#until the person ur trying to talk to is actually around and Responds

[skreehaw]

eugh

[astrolynnworld]

under the table

pairing: bf! matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt takes you on a weekly date night event that he always has planned. although tonight, matt starts to get turned on by your presence.

warnings: smut, exhibition, language, maybe a bit of a foot fetish? minors pls dni!

a/n: let me know if you guys like the story !!

word count: 923

“thank you” i said to matt as he opened my car door for me.

we were outside the nicest restaurant in our home town. i’ve been talking about this spot for months because there’s so many good reviews and they only taking reservations on top of always being reserved.

but, somehow matthew managed to get a last minute reservation due to a couple who canceled a few hours ago. now we’re standing inside the restaurant as the hostess prepares our table.

i look over at matt who stands beside me looking all handsome in his suit & tie. considering the elements of the restaurant that we were at, we definitely had to dress up. i always loved when matt dressed up, it only ever made him look 100x better.

as the hostess guides us to our table, matt grabs my hand as he leads the way. i love when matthew would do little dominate things like this in public, would make me feel so secure and safe. i never had to worry about feeling anxious when matt was around because he would always make me feel safe and calm.

we sit down on opposite sides of our booth and the waiter comes over to take our drinks.

“i’ll have a root beer and she’ll have a shirley temple” matt speaks for me.

i smile at the thought that he doesn’t even have to ask what i want, he just knows me. i know we’ve been dating for several months now but it always just feels good to have little reminders that someone cares enough to know the small repetitive things that you like or do.

“you look so good tonight” i tell matthew, breaking the silence that i created by staring.

“is that why you’re looking so hard” he replies back while laughing

i laugh back, “can you stop! you know i get nervous”

“you’re so cute, pretty girl. you don’t need to be nervous around me” he continues while chuckling still.

the waiter comes back with our drinks and asks if we’re ready to order. thankfully we had already previously looked at the menus online and knew what we wanted because we did not touch the menus that were given to us in person.

we told the waiter our orders and he had gone back in the kitchen to give it back to the chef.

“can you take some pictures of me for instagram?” i ask matt while mixing my drink so it looks well blended for the photos.

“of course, love” he replies as he picks up his phone to take my photos

i do a series of poses, just trying my best to look as hot as possible. matt behind the camera just hyping me up with occasional, “you’re actually so gorgeous” or “you’re so mesmerizing, i can’t believe you’re mine” causing me to smile even harder in the photos

until he said one thing that for sure caught me off guard.

“you turn me on so much.” he said casually

“matthew?” i say confused as if i heard him wrong.

he didn’t reply, he just stopped taking photos as i obviously was not posing anymore.

“are you serious?” i ask in a lighthearted manner

“do you wanna feel?” he responds back.

“matthew!! we’re in public” i say with a smile on my face

“i can’t help it. it’s something about ur eyes, the way you look just genuinely gets my dick hard.” he says as a whisper so nobody else in the restaurant heard

“you’re so unserious” i reply back.

he leans in closer to the table, “do you think you could touch me throw my pants?”

“matty it’s too public in here, it’s either gonna look suspicious or someone will see”

“what if..” he stops

“if what?” i ask

“could you maybe use your feet? nobody would see if you use your foot to rub on me. please! i just need you to touch me. all this talking is only making me harder” he says

“matt-“

“please y/n, just for a bit” he pleads

“alright..” i take off my heels in order to “get comfortable” and i rest my feet on his lap in order to get access to his bulge without immediately looking suspicious.

i start sliding my foot up and down rubbing on his bulge to give him as much stimulation as i could. i had never done something like this before so it felt a little weird but i could see on his face that he was enjoying it.

“matty, don’t make it too obvious.” i told him in hopes that he would control his facial expression from looking like a fucked out puppy.

“fuck- i think i could cum from this” he whispers in an almost audible whine.

he puts his head down on the table in order to mask the sensation.

i try to go faster to finish him off until i notice the waiter coming back with our food.

i quickly stop, to which matt raises his head wanting to ask why i had stopped until he also sees the waiter

“for you ma’am.” the waiter says as he places the plate down in front of me

“thank you” i reply.

“and the chicken alfredo for you sir.” he says handing matt his plate

“thank you.” matt says with a raspy voice that he clears as soon as the phrase leaves his mouth.

“enjoy.” the waiter says before walking away

“yeah, we’re definitely gonna need to finish what we started” matt says

i smirk at his comment.

———————————————————————

should i do a part 2? & let me know if you guys enjoyed !!

[wxshing-aep]

Hiii, I saw ur request post!! could you maybe

write some dating Ethan morales hcs??💖

Dating Ethan Morales Would Include

pairing: ethan morales x reader (all characters are 18+) AN: this will be dating college!ethan cause i thought it'd be more interesting, also didn't proofread this warnings: swearing, gets nsfw in the second half so 18+ (minors dni)

-

you met ethan when you were assigned to tutor him cause he was failing calc. you originally found him to be pretty obnoxious and got tired of his overly nonchalant attitude which culminated in you yelling at him about how he needs to start trying or he's gonna get kicked out. he made no move to respond to your angry rant and just stared back at you with wide eyes and blown out pupils. "what?" you question. "sorry, you're kinda really fucking hot when you're mad"

one of your study sessions ended with him pulling you onto his lap while you made out and his hands roamed your body

he got a little nervous asking you out on a real date even though you've already made out multiple times. he was a bit worried that you'd reject him. he wasn't sure if you'd want a serious relationship with him since he's got a bit of a womanizer reputation. (spoiler alert: you said yes)

his grades got a lot better once he actually started trying because he loved seeing how excited you'd get for him when he showed you a good grade that he got on a test

ethan's love language is definitely physical touch. he needs his hands on you at all times, normally around your waist or resting on your thigh. he's constantly drawing little shapes on whatever part of your bare skin he has access to. most of the time he doesn't even realize he's doing it

you go on a lot of late night drives that may or may not end with the two of you in the backseat of ethan's car

he loves when you wear his clothes but still consistently accuses you of robbing him. "wearing my jacket again, you little thief" "oh, did you want it ba-" "no"

he is your own personal hype-man, there is no shortage of compliments coming from him

"see you later, gorgeous", "damn, my girl looks sexy", "my girlfriend is the most beautiful person on the planet"

he lets you braid his hair when you're bored

he'll match his nail color to yours but will never admit that he did it on purpose and always insist that it was a coincidence

he gets very jealous, but will deny it if you call him out. you were once at a party very innocently talking to a male friend from your psych seminar about how hard your recent test was before ethan walked over to your conversation.

"oh hey, jack, this is my boyfriend ethan" you introduce him, "ethan, this is-" "yea, don't care" ethan interrupts before pulling you by the waist into a searing kiss until jack had left. "there's no reason to be jealous you know? he's just a friend" "i'm not jealous, but that loser was definitely eye-fucking you" "he was not eye-" "let's go make out"

ethan is very distracting when you're trying to study or do any homework

"baaaaaabe, i'm bored", he whines. "m'sorry but I really have to do this research paper" you respond. "or", he starts, closing the book in your hands and tossing it to the side of your bed, "you can take a much needed break and do me instead"

his friends call him whipped bc of how obsessed with you he is and he doesn't give a fuck cause he is in fact obsessed with you

he lets you color in his tattoos

he definitely tries to teach you how to skateboard and holds both your hands if you're too scared to let go of him

he got you a necklace with his initial on it and has a ring with your initial on it

nsfw 18+

that man definitely knows what he's doing in the bedroom cause, let's face it, he was a bit of a whore in the past

you guys have a lot of sex, like a lot of sex to the point where you might have gotten a few noise complaint's from the people that live next to your dorm room

he's a capital M Munch. ethan loves eating pussy, like he definitely does it for his own enjoyment. he could spend hours in between your thighs and any moans or whimpers coming from you just egg him on even more

ethan was so turned on when you agreed to sit on his face

"your face is pretty", you complimented him. "yea? you should sit on it" oh. "like sit on it sit on it?" "sit. on. it." "but what if I like suffocate you or something" "you won't, and if you did i'd die happy" so you did and holy shit does that boy know how to use his mouth. he wouldn't stop till you came on his face multiple times and your legs are shaking around his head

he keeps his hair long cause he likes when you tug on it while he's eating you out. it turns him on so much that he has to actively try not to cum in his pants while he's going down on you

ethan is very vocal, he's not afraid to let you know that he's enjoying it. he whimpers for sure. while he's definitely a giver he loves when you have your mouth on him. his mind goes fuzzy when you're blowing him, moaning your name, shaking under you

he's a bit of a sub and loves when you boss him around. ethan absolutely loses his mind when you choke him while you're riding him. he just loves seeing you on top of him, telling him what to do, using him for your own pleasure. he'll beg, especially if you're edging him

"baby fuck please i need it, i'll be your good boy i promise"

jealous!ethan is definitely more dominant though. "right there baby? look how wet you are for me. he can't fuck you like i can hmm? want you to cum on my dick like a good girl"

this man cannot hide when he's horny. he immediately gets super handsy and will be whisking you off to the nearest bathroom

he loves your boobs. holding them, sucking on your nipples, cumming on them if you're cool with that. your chest is rarely not covered in hickies.

you're obsessed with ethan's hands and he knows it. he knows how to use them and has no problem sneaking them into you under the table on a date night, only to remove his hands from you right before you finish and make a point of sucking the fingers that had just been inside you clean while holding eye contact with you and letting a smug look take over his face

he has a praise kink and definitely responds with "yes ma'am" when you boss him around. he's gotten turned on when you guys are arguing before, there's just something about you yelling at him that goes straight to his dick

if you wear a sundress, oh it's over for him. he'll have you bent over the nearest surface in seconds and the dress stays on.

[v7lgar]

fuck, you’re so hot” / “can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you” / “i’ve dreamt about this for so long” type of jegulus sex

"can't believe you're letting me do this to you."

but it's james fucking trans regulus' ass before taking his virginity because he wants to play into one of his fantasies abt fucking him in the ass and edging regulus w pressing his veiny cock's length to his soaking pussy but not give in and fuck his pussy

"fuck you're so hot."

but it's jock buff james having nasty thoughts abt sirius' little brat brother because he is so infuriating that james wants to fuck this hate out of him but he also can't bcuz it's sirius' lil brother and he promised that he has no interest in his brother for a million time to sirius and he needs to keep his hands and thoughts to himself but what he can do if that said brat is trying to push him off the edge and and he just needs to fuck some sense into him? what if it's "i hate you so much but fuck, you are off limits" and "i can't stand you and i need to dig my teeth into ur neck until it bleeds" and "fuck you re so hot and tempting but i need to keep my promise" and what if regulus the brat wants to see james crack and show him what those muscles do on top of him?

"i've dreamt about this for so long."

but it's james being in a relationship with someone else and meeting w sirius' brother and smth abt his brother feels diff but he rarely talks to him and his only respond to him is the jabs he throws to james from time to time and james has no idea why he annoys him this much but he can't help himself but follows him around and tries to talk to him but regulus acting no different and he even acts like he didn't hear him or see him and it drives him insane bcuz wtf actually did to him and now that regulus is under his skin he starts to see him in his dreams and the more he saw him linger under his subconscious the more his dreams become horny and he has a raging bone and he can't even touch his partner bcuz they're not the person he wants and everytime he sees regulus he only remembers his naked body from his dreams lying under him tenderly and he has to snap out off it and now he is the one who is avoiding him and that sets regulus off bcuz he thought he wouldn't give up this easily? (describe easy reg) then on top of everything james breaks up w his partner and he gets drunk everytime regulus sees him and james ignores him to the point regulus is the one following him in secret to catch a chance to get alone w him and ask what's his problem but james is not having it and sirius doesn't like the way they look each other when the other isn't looking bcuz he knows they don't get along but why he has a feeling that there is smth more and smth gross abt the two of them? what if the only solution to their problem is hate fuck so they can get each other from their system but god james yearned regulus for so long that he cant think straight and he is so gone that it makes him sick bcj he never felt like this before and regulus so looking at him and he is a fire james shouldn't reach his hand over but yeah he dreamt abt him so long that he is ready to burn and turn into ashes w regulus

[mothtoaflamee]

hello! if ur talking request, can i ask for asmodeus (helluva boss) x child! selective mute! transmasc! reader headcannons? i know it’s a lot to ask, so don’t feel pressured to do this request!!

Asmodeus x Child!SelectiveMute/Transmasc!Reader (Platonic)

(And a little bit of Fizz in here)

☽༺♡༻☾☽༺♡༻☾ ☽༺♡༻☾

Headcanons

☽༺♡༻☾☽༺♡༻☾ ☽༺♡༻☾

Well for one Asmodeus absolutely ADORES you

• I imagine in this scenario you’d be a hellborn, so he probably finds you out wondering one day and you catch his eye like “why is there a child just walking around the streets alone?” Asmodeus probably looks around a bit and when he notices you aren’t with any adults he approaches you and asks if you need help.

• He’s probably a bit confused why you didn’t respond but quickly catches on you are mute, if not just selectively mute.

• He says he’ll “temporarily” take you in and attempt to find your parents, but until then you’re living with him and Fizzarolli

• Let’s say you know some basic sign language, I personally think Asmodeus would know some and would most definitely learn more once he meets you, probably gets taught by Fizzarolli (since canonically he does know sign language)

• And if you don’t know sign language, Fizz would offer just as extra help so you don’t get frustrated when you feel you can communicate what you are feeling or need.

• You are going to be absolutely ✨spoiled✨ ask for something you’ll probably get it, food, treats, children’s toys, drawing books, clothes, you name it you probably have it

• Asmodeus is very understanding when it comes to Mute/selective mute stuff, he doesn’t view you differently from others nor does he judge in any way or try to force you to speak, overall he’s really good with it, never over steps your boundaries or treats you differently for it.

• Would 100% “lightly” threaten someone if they tried forcing you to ‘speak up’ or talk when you didn’t want to or just couldn’t.

• Asmo does cover up the ‘statue’ and other paintings that he feels you shouldn’t see at such a young age, he’s looking out for you

• it is the lust ring so he tries his best to somewhat shelter you from certain areas in the lust ring but will go on walks with you in the more appropriate areas when you need to stretch your legs or get some fresh air

• After about two months of living with Asmo (and fizz) he finds your not-so-kind parents and learns you were actually abandoned by them, so Asmodeus decided he’ll adopt you permanently since he’d rather not see you be put in an orphanage (if they have those in hell) or worse.

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• Now… I imagine you’d come out to him once you’ve been officially adopted and have been living with Asmodeus for quite some time, let’s say 2-3 years so you are now in like your pre-teens.

• He is soso happy and grateful you were comfortable enough to come out to him about, fizz is also super supportive of you and proud.

• It might take him a bit but Asmodeus will remember your pronouns and preferred name, if you choose to change it or not.

• Will make sure that everyone learns to call you by your pronouns, he wants to make sure you feel comfortable and not feel awkward trying to correct someone yourself (speaking from personal experience)

• Overall, super supportive of your decision and cares about you all the same no matter what

☽༺♡༻☾☽༺♡༻☾ ☽༺♡༻☾

Notes: sorry if this was a bit short! I hope you liked it anyways! Also!!!! Fun fact about me: I am a selective mute and ftm so it was really fun writing this! Thank you for your support and request 🪄✨

[whinesandwhimpers]

rodolfo parra x f!reader headcanons (sfw & nsfw)

SFW

he loves to cook!! esp for u, loves when u praise his cooking and tells him how the meal he made tastes, hes deff cocky about his cooking tho like he knows hes good but hearing u say it!!

honestly u giving him any type of compliment about anything about him not just his cooking skills is like music to his ears

he is a romantic because i said so and we know its true anyway

gives u flowers, not just on the first date

kisses ur forehead, wrist, palm, everywhere, every fucking inch of u

big on physical touch with u

actually listens to what u tell him!! and remembers!! remembers what u like, dislike, if u have been wanting something for a while he'll surprise u with it before u can get it urself

breakfast in bed providing typa guy, doesnt even have to be a special day

a perfect fucking gentlemen. boundaries? respected. hand? held. home? safely. (hotel trivago)

if a bad guy kidnaps/hurts u, he is seeing red and the bad guy is not walking outta there alive, might even torture him a lil if rudys got time?? no one hurts his girl

will absolutely teach u spanish if u dont know it, gets so happy once u start understanding whatever he says in spanish to/around u, when u respond in spanish hes beaming :)

if hes jealous of someone talking/flirting to u he'll silently watch, knowing u can handle it/trusting u, until he spots any discomfort coming from u then hes coming over, putting an arm around ur waist, making it known to this person that ur his and they have zero fucking chance with u

when he proposes, he gets Alejandro's help, makes it perfect, pulls together all your fav things, fav flowers, fav drinks, fav food - its a priv dinner, not at some fancy restaurant, because he wants it to be personal - fav ring, he either already knows what u wanted or he got Alejandro to pretend he needed ur opinions and outright asked u which one ur fav is before he reported that info back to rudy

NSFW

hes not vanilla because i said so

he'd deff be down to try whatever u wanna try, he'd make sure ur never in pain or discomfort tho

switch

soft dom, wouldnt want to see u in pain or degrade u, ur his whole fucking life, his heart, his sun and moon, he is cherishing u and worshipping the ground u walk on

"look at you, mi amor, taking me so well"

"have i told you how beautiful you look lately?" he asks, his hand on your cheek.

you giggle, smiling softly at him and leaning into his hand, "you tell me at least once a day, my love."

"hm, not nearly enough then, hermosa." he replies, leaning in to kiss you.

orgasm denial tho if ur bratty, asking "are you gonna be a good girl for me, amor?"

...or edging until ur a pathetic blubbering mess pleading with him that u will be good and to let u cum - rare tho because ur normally such a good girl for ur sweet rudy and he hates seeing u cry no matter the situation - afterwards he's taking care of u, kissing any tears off ur face, spooning u

unintentionally leaves bruises on ur hips from gripping u too tightly, he just gets carried away with how good it feels holding on and thrusting into u :(

kisses any bruises the next morning, mumbling apologies between each kiss

likes leaving hickeys on u tho and spotting them later peaking over ur shirt, or the fully obvious ones that everyone can see, loves knowing everyone knows ur taken, ur his

his fav positions are ones where he can see ur face, ur eyes, kiss ur lips, its not just fucking to him, its intimacy, its special, its love

likes cockwarming because it means he gets to be physically close with u, u cradled against him, ur arms wrapped around him - while he's working, he has a strong will so if u shift a lil on his cock he wont let it bother him, "stay still, amor, im not finished with this paperwork", but it will bother u and when u get impatient and needy and start begging in his ear he'll take a break from his work to make u cum

hes the wide eyed, pouty, pathetic, whimpering and begging type mess of a sub, he just wants u so badly :( wants to please u, wants to cum in u :(

if u haven't cum before him he'll beg u to let him help u

if hes tied up he will be pulling at those bonds trying to get free just to touch u

if u tell him "no touching" he'll try so hard to be good but then his will snaps at a particular noise u make or how u work urself on his cock and he WILL desperately beg u whining out a "por favor, i want to touch you, mi vida"

his fucking wide doe eyes looking up at u (i cant-), if ur strong enough to resist that look good 4 u

dom or sub his focus is on u and making u feel good

king of aftercare ofc, hes bringing u some water, cleaning u up, cuddling u, etc, whatever! u! need! after the first few times hes got u figured out and doesnt even need to ask anymore

[6okuto]

idk if ur reqs are open but I would love to hear your thoughts on Vere 👁️👁️ hes literally dominated my entire headspace I can’t go ten minutes w/o thinking ab how I want to bite his forearm

GENERAL VERE HCS

gn!reader | back 2 knocking these guys out of the park. also i realized these are shorter than my hq bf hcs so. if anyone wants a pt.2 for anybody.. u know what to do

i think u Should bite his arm. For Fun. vere w bite-y partner who he bites back. 'gently' considering he has fangs though

congratulations on being one of 2 people he'd let touch and brush his tail. sometimes he swishes it against your face and then pretends he didn't. "i have no idea what you're talking about," he says before making direct eye contact and doing it again

he likes drawing. ok. have we considered him drawing you. you ask him about it and he says he won't show you. you tease him and ask "what? did you draw sparkles and hearts surrounding me?" and he plays along, "yes, i even checked what i'd look like with your last name and drew us kissing."

It's actually quite a nice sketch of you though. like of you smiling or asleep or something because you fell aslep near him. oh man...

vere knows all the ins and outs of the city which means he can give you a personalized tour that caters to all your interests!! you can ask him to take you to his favourite spots too of course but he feels very accomplished watching you grin in the store he purposely walked by

shocked if you get him a gift. acts nonchalant and is good enough at accepting things but internally, especially if it's something he's been eyeing for a while or has sentimental value,, he . He....

like yeah okay vere...act all cool...as if your eyes don't flicker over whenever you walk past it...as if you don't catch yourself smiling subconsciously...whatever

definitely tries cooking your favourite meal. doesn't go very well, especially if it's something he's never had, but he'll keep practicing until he makes something decent. don't ask how many attempts he did because he won't tell you unless he somehow started a fire and even Then the truth is debatable

if YOU know how to cook it Please for the love of god teach him, or write down the recipe for both your sakes. for the kitchen. plea

everyone tells him/the both of you to shut the hell up whenever you start flirting back and forth/competing to see how many innuendos you can feasibly say. the both of you team up only to bully everyone else for being single before continuing

asshole if you played uno. i'm not competitive nor do i give two shits if i lose at uno but even i would lose it watching vere push for whatever stacking rule he needs to get someone a +20. watch your cards or he'll manage to look over at them. do not trust a single deal he tries. watch his ears and tail i'm sure he has a tell

really good at helping build confidence . what ais said about him being honest but also not trusting anything he says yeah well this is when he'd be completely honest. easily reminds you how capable you are of something, knows what makes you confident, etc etc. and you just ? know you can trust him? it's the vibe. how he says it so plainly as if it's obvious

don't try to lie to him about things. like if you're upset about something it is So obvious to him no matter how hard you try and he'd really appreciate it if you would tell him why or ask to talk about it later when you're ready.

^ as someone who wants to piss her pants at the thought of being direct or whatever,, he'd also be very good at knowing when to push or not. if you respond better to a lighter/gentle reminder i'm sure he would do so :heart:

i have a feeling this guy would be incredibly incredibly incredibly into you asking to post him on any socmed. do you want his face in it. do you want it to be a little spicy. should he pose. actually he probably pouts a little if you want a faceless pose but bro why does it matter if there is not a cm of space between us. why is your hand around my neck rn /lh You know the poses

[unluckyoscthoughts]

The tacophy deep dive post

Hello, my name's Ozzy, better known as Vandal or TUV. If u know me from this acc you know my biggest ship and main fixation when it comes to the ii fandom is a crackship involving Taco and Trophy. In the past uh 3 or so years that I've been in the fandom I've gotten got knows how many questions and remarks abt how it makes no sense or that they didn't even know it was a thing. And out of sheer boredom, I decided I'm gonna make a deep dive post abt the ship.

the post will be in the following order

1: characters themselves

2: why i think they could be buddies

3: their flaws, the ppl they hurt and why that plays into one another

4: just general silly shit i wanna add cuz its relevant

Who are these weird little dudes??

Ur not living under a rock you KNOW who Taco and Trophy are, but here i wanna talk a bit about their personalities.

As we all know, taco is very very fucking smart, she was able to hide her actual personality for an entire season of show. While her motive for her behavior isn't known as of writing this post, we know there's definitely some amount of reason behind it.

She's not above playing dirty or flat out killing people to get what she wants, casualties are just a part of it, they're technically immortal so long Mephone is around anyway. Her morals seem beyond fucked, caring about people supposedly but not being against using them for whatever personal goal she may have.

Despite this, if we know one thing about her its that being reminded of her mistakes and what she has done can very quickly set her off or make her upset.

But the basics, in summary, are that she has little regard for others and how what she does affects them until its too late. She's arrogant, yet smart and tactful which makes her such a threat.

And then there's trophy, who in contrast is a lot stupider in terms of his behavior and motives. Again, we don't know his reasoning behind doing what he does, other than just wanting to be better than others.

He's to put it bluntly, a fucking asshole, just for the sake of why not. Making people do things for him purely because he himself does not want to do it, manipulative in his own way. While actual attempted murder isn't something he would do, he clearly isn't above breaking a few laws if u so much as piss him off like with knife and his doll.

Outside of that/after he was eliminated he seems to have calmed down a bit, he likes photography and probably learned to find something else to do other than antagonize people for funsies.

He of course is arrogant as well, but his lack of motivation to do things himself doesn't make him that big of a threat, especially if the thing he's using against you is just normal to others.

why could they be friends? [How they meet hc I guess]

So why do I think they could get along ? Ngl I'm gonna have to put a bit of headcanons in here but it makes sense I promise.

We all know Trophy likes photography right? Well what place on the ii map :tm: would have great photo potential? The forest.

I imagine that one day, Trophy goes to the forest to take photos and whatnot [a little bit before the episode where lb and tt go back in time I'd say.] As he walks around taking photos of things, he manages to bump into taco after she [embarrassingly] falls out of a tree [mirroring her falling when hit with the gemory] and falls in a bush in-front of him. He'd be a bit shocked, cuz what the fuck just happened and wouldn't really respond until she asks if he's just going to keep standing there as she's trying to get unstuck. When he snaps out of it he picks her up to get her out and places her down. Taco, having watched the show closely, knows who he is and initially wanted to use him alongside Microphone until remembering he was eliminated and therefore would be a little bit useless. He meanwhile starts asking who she is, irritating her a lot as she did NOT get shamed on show for people to not know who she is.

The two don't actually bond in this first interaction, that comes a few days or so later when Trophy, again, finds her in the forest. This time he basically just asks her if she can find cool places he can take photos of, which does annoy her a bit but if it means he'll go away sure. This repeats a few times until she, reluctantly, gets attached.

Other stuff ig is i think they could bond over their past mistakes, a bit far fetched but hey, a boy can dream.

Their sins and whatnot

Lets talk abt their sins and what they could bond over in that regard

Taco: killed a few people, manipulation, trying to steal money, probably kidnapping with mepad

Trophy: bullying, blackmail, manipulation

I also think its interesting to note that the people they hurt have a bond with one another. Knife and pickle are buddies, Knife and Mic are buddies and we know Mic cut the bs and pointed out her behavior towards Pickle, its likely those 2 are going to become friends as well. their victims realistically can bond over these experiences.

The people they hurt and the influence they have could play into their conversations. While Trophy has done way less, he still hurt people. Them being able to bond over the past, the things they did and how to handle that guilt would be sweet.

filler i mean other stuff

Here goes other random shit i think would be funny or just mostly hcs/vague stuff that has no real evidence

Justin has confirmed Taco can fit in his head[like the cup part], largely why i tend to draw her just...in there.

i think they bond over a shared hatred of Knife

Trophy likes tea, she likes tea, let them drink tea together

i hc both were extremely ''trapped'' during their childhoods. Taco was babied to hell and back while Trophy was expected to be perfect, causing their respective ways of lashing out. A lack of freedom in both.

This is more an observation but Taco is so fucking short lmfao she can just be grabbed

based on drawings two friends made, i think they'd commit crimes together.

i think Trophy would sneak Taco into the hotel at one point AFTER ii ends to ensure she doesn't have to stay outside all the time.

And thats all for now, folks. So what was i really trying to do with this? well mostly just...rant, i miss being able to talk abt ii2. I might edit this post a bit later, to add more stuff, fix wording, answer questions etc. Tacophy means a lot to me as a ship, even if the only footing it stands on is built out of popsicle sticks and tape. Rarepairs are fun, i've had the occasional person yell at me for shipping this but honestly, its never stopped me. I love seeing people kind of warm up to the idea, even if just showing interest in the dynamic.

If u read this and thought it was neat, pls show it cuz i worked p hard on this. Have a good day :)

[noxiatoxia]

@pumpkinmetaphor HII ur asks are off and tumblr DMs are a nightmare to navigate so I will respond here to spare poor poor op

soo I have quite a bit written out actually, but idk if it'll ever come to be ...? I think I actually made a post abt it a bit back. It's just one of those many many things I write in my downtime for fun that will prob never get finished. Anyways the concept revolves around werewolves because I love stories of protags having some deep secret they cannot reveal for fear of rejection or worse. In the story, Kaoru has been infected with lycanthropy after being attacked badly by a werewolf. He lies about this encounter to everyone, doctors and his brother included, as he genuinely believes he must have saw wrong. He was attacked at night when he couldn't see well, the animal seeming to be a wolf...but there aren't any wild wolves in Japan. So Kaoru believes it must have been something else. (side note idk how the disease spreads as of yet. Think either saliva in the bloodstream like rabies or it's a thing of if you get killed by a werewolf you come back as one not knowing you technically died...)

Soso Kaoru beings acting strange after this event. After weeks recovering physically, coming back home, his personality shifts unknowingly to himself. He becomes a lot more restless at night, much more snappy and rude, generally kinda acting like his brother more lol. He just seems to be losing his temper easier and being more aggressive and physical, even with Hikaru, who he also becomes more snappy with. Obviously he doesn't understand why he's acting like this, neither does anybody in the club.

Then the big thing happens...full moon baybeeee. Up to this point Kaoru would feel more awake/elevated heartbeat when looking at the moon, but when the full moon comes around, he feels fucking crazy. Like manic and uncontrollable and he starts to freak out a bit. However he sticks it out because the club is hosting a prom event like episode 2, so it's like, whatever, go home and sleep later.

Until he makes the mistake of forgetting to keep himself busy, which leads to him compulsively staring at the moon, and then he finds he can't look away, and well.

And the transformation thing sort of has him black out. In my head, I imagine the werewolves look like regular wolves, just a tad bigger with bigger paws that may be more human-like. Definitely makes him lose all cognitive ability, and by the time he snaps back to normal, he doesn't know where he is, his clothes are tattered, he's in so much pain, and there's blood, and he's like whaaat the fuck happened here...

He's able to hide these facts, not wanting anyone to know how he found himself when he woke up bc that shit cannot be good. quickly through talk he finds that morning that haruhi got hurt last night, so of course hikaru (who is doubly worried about his brother who disappeared for a chunk of the night) urges that the two of them along with the rest of the host club check up on haruhi (who is at home trying to tell them "im fine guys gooddd")

but like, ofc its the club so they knock the door down lmfao. and tho haruhi plays it cool, she is obviously a little shaken about whatever happened. she has some bandages but nothing awful.

turns out, as she explains, an animal attacked her last night (cue tamaki wailing) and she scared it off by blindly slashing a pocket knife at it ("WHY ARE YOU CARRYING SUCH A DANGEROUS WEAPON AROUND!?!? IF YOU NEED BODY GAURDS KYOYA CAN DO SOMETHING IM SURE-" "i use it to open packages senpai.")

kyoya of course takes the idea of a wild, vicious animal on school grounds very seriously, and so inquires on the appearance of the animal. haruhi pauses but admits it looked like a wolf. of course kyoya tells her that can't be right, it must have been a stray dog, but haruhi insists it did NOT look like a dog.

anyways, the club are in uproar about this, arguing back and forth about this wolf-not-wolf that nearly killed haruhi, and kaoru is silently watching from the back as a terrifying realization dawns on him. he remembered waking up with there being blood. namely, blood on his hands and under his nails, and a nasty cut he got on his cheek which he assumed he acquired by tripping and hitting something sharp. But if he pairs that with what haruhi says, it seems INSANE, but also...it would make sense. everything to this point would make sense.

and it terrifies him. it terrifies him more that hikaru swears up and down that he's going to "kill that filthy mutt" that hurt haruhi, and it terrifies him that kyoya says he's going to bring this up with school staff about increasing security. he wonders if he told them that it wasnt just a wolf, it was HIM, that if they would be merciful, or if they would still hate him. if hikaru would want him dead still. and the fact is, he HURT someone. his friend. this is his fault and he cant even blame his friends if they wanted to go as far as kill him if they found out, now that he is literally a monster that can kill people.

this, finally, is where the carriage thing comes in (took long enough!) the story functions as an elaborate ass metaphor, where kaoru's lycanthropy is a physical metaphor for his anxieties about the person who he's supposed to be, the harm he thinks he's causing other people, the harm he's causing his brother. he's running around, trying to find a cure while keeping everyone in the dark, praying no one finds out before he can fix this and fix himself. and if he cant, his only option is likely a grim one, but he CANT let anyone know, it's too risky, he has to do this by himself. his self-destroying obsession with keeping everyone safe and doing the right thing for his friends causes him to push them away from fear of hurting them or getting hurt himself. there's that part of him that's convinced he won't be able to solve this.

it basically drives him to his lowest point mentally and physically. he avoids all his friends so he can't hurt them with his uncontrollable temper or possible transformation, he's doing tons of shady shit in an effort to cure himself. he goes to nekozawa bc if anybody knows how to solve this fuckery its nekozawa and nekozawa treats him like a little lab experiment lmao bc of course he is enraptured by kaoru's newfound form and the physical changes it has made to his body (sharper canines, faster-growing hair, possibly an inch taller, newfound silver allergy). but of course as news of the wolf attack on campus spreads so do rumors, some "crazy" rumors about werewolves being real, of course rumors that are mocked by most of the kids as being nonsense scary stories, but this does NOT help kaoru's paranoia...

as for how this story ends WELL it's unfinished so you can guess (i have no ending.) i do want some part of hikaru obviously finding out at the worst possible moment, probably a very unfortunate circumstance where kaoru is unable to escape transformation on a full moon and hikaru is there. and he probably begs and pleads for hikaru to leave him alone but of course his brother won't do that, and obviously he is fucking stunned to see his brother turn into ?? a wolf. like erm *marvel voice that just happened..... and since kaoru has no control in this form, he tries to attack and even kill hikaru. hikaru would obviously not fight back, bc he doesn't want to hurt kaoru. that and he is stunned silent.

there are other elements of the story i want. for example, if i ever finish this thing, i do have ideas of ayanokoji being involved somehow. probably a witness to kaoru's odd behavior/actual transformation and thusly being able to use this against him cuz Fuck Da Host Club. or even try to kill him herself bc he's a fucking wolf dude idk. i also had this scene in my head with arai being involved bc the night kaoru attacks his brother he wakes up far as fuck away from tokyo with no memory except knowing A) hikaru was there and B) there is blood all over him he can only think of the worst possibilities so he kinda wanders in an unfamiliar back road in a fugue state until some lady almost accidentally hits him with a car and is like. who is this child covered in wounds and blood......and very sane thing to do she is like. hey do u need like. a lift. you look like ur gonna die. you have like 3 stab wounds. and kaoru is like. floor it chief. anyways turns out it's arai's mother ! woah. which is funny because after helping Kaoru and hanging out with him she admits she's like, "oh i helped you cuz you remind me of my son. you seem about his age" and kaoru is like oh ha ha that's nice of you....and then fuckin arai shows up a few hours later and kaoru is like "ohhhhhhhhhhh............................uhoh."

to which since kaoru doesnt have his phone on him arai offers to phone haruhi for him since he has her number and of course 5 minutes later the host club is at their location in a fucking helicopter or some shit bc ZOMG KAORUUU WE WERE SO WORRIED ABOUT YOUUUUU WHERE DID U GOOOO (hikaru withholding information)

it's an incredibly "fan fiction-y" story i admit. but that's the fun of it. it could get soooo dramatic too. cuz like yeah duhh hikaru wouldn't want to kill kaoru ofc not but OTHER people ? there's a guy who is a werewolf. umm. can't see that going over well. and the general attitude kaoru would hold and the way he attempts to figure everything out on his own. the day he and hikaru reunite after hikaru finds out the truth could go so many ways, from silence to yelling to crying to awkward laughing to kaoru just blankly asking what hikaru plans to do with him now, like he's a prisoner accepting his execution. sorry i am a fan of introducing trauma between the toxic codependent twins. and like the other members of the club? i can see people like tamaki being quick to try and help kaoru (despite what he did to haruhi) and haruhi being like "this may as well happen welcome to Ouran Fucking Highschool" but people like Mori or Kyoya may be more hesitant, pointing out kaoru, while not malicious, genuinely CANNOT control himself in his canine state and has shown multiple times that can and WILL kill people, including his friends, and that can't be ignored or brushed off. maybe they put a muzzle on him idfk. either way, it's also a great metaphor for stigma bc once his friends start finding out, they are obviously treating him differently. Even (or especially) hikaru. he's being treated like a different person now. it makes him feel more inhuman than ever. they only see this awful monster he can become now, he feels, and honestly, maybe they're right. it's not all of who he is, but it's a part of him, a part of him that has hurt two people he loves most, and so he can't help but judge himself based off that too.

well ermmmm yes! that is my funny funny story that i have like 6k written down in a word document of that i may or may not finish who fuckin knowwws

[monoceros-vulpes]

give me the answrrs to all of those questions rn with ur ginger freako

— 😋

oh em gee i am so glad you asked

Who had to cross a language barrier for f/o? Did they learn for you, or did you learn for them? Or did you both try to learn each other's language together? Did one of you speak the other's language at all to help translate, or at least understand even if they didn't speak it? Or did you both consult the Googles and Rosetta Rock?? Was it frustrating from the time it took to talk to each other, endearing for the effort, or both? Were you/they very willing, or did it take some convincing or some reason for you/them to learn?

We spoke the same language (Teyvat common) but he taught me some Snezhnayan once we were locked in locked in so I could talk to his family more. I didn't mind at all, and like. considering I've been learning Russian irl bc of him.

Afterwards, did they have nicknames/pet names for you that they learned, or ones you were finally able to translate and understand what they were calling you? How did they respond when you found out?

Лисичка (Lisichka, little fox) was the worst one, from him to me. He hinted at what it meant a lot but it took me a long time to figure out 😓 i bit him

What about if they thought they were calling you one thing but were actually calling you something else the whole time without realizing it? How did that go??

I've done this so many times. I keep thinking he's saying one thing when he's saying another it's so bad. I however am so paranoid abt speaking in front of him and his family i simply have never slipped up 👍

Did you find and use nicknames/pet names from their language, or accidentally call them something you weren't meaning to? What did f/o think of them? Did you ever mean for them know what you'd been calling them if they were finally able to translate the things you called them?

I called him родной (rodnoy, soulmate, lit. blood family) once, he lowkey freaked out. He uses it a lot for me now that he knows I see him like that. Also муженек (muzhenek, hubby, lit. husband). That was more intentional though 😋 he made me repeat it until it wasn't a word to me anymore

Have there been any goofy instances where you and/or f/o had trouble with the barrier of your words? Thinking you were talking about one thing when the other person was going off about something else? Embarrassing yourself/themself in front of everyone else who spoke the opposite language? Saying something obscene or ridiculous to the other? Just plain miscommunication that took forever to get over?

I think reading would be really bad. He sends me a letter and I have to stare at it for a million years to figure out what it says. His letter handwriting and his teaching handwriting do NOT look the same. what are these glyphs you present to me. Not with him specifically but his family speaks so fast and I'm scared to ask them to slow down. They think I'm more fluent than I am. Oh. Also. Лисичка (Lisichka, little fox) also translates to лисичка (Lisichka, Chanterelle mushroom)

How fluent are you and/or your f/o with the other's language now? Are you/they a pro, still sound like a rookie, or pretty intermediate? Can you/they hold a whole conversation, or only small phrases or words? Does it sound broken to the other, but understandable enough to get by? What about writing the other language, or reading for things? If you guys went to the other language's origin, how well do you think each other would get around?

It's okay. Nothing flashy, but enough to get around. I play the foreigner card a lot and I will continue to no matter how long I have to live here. I don't really speak a lot to begin with, and even then it's more convenient to have conversations in common...

[lizthinspo]

i keep thinking to myself just make it to the end of the year and then ur free to do whatever you please but until then we are crying and screaming my lungs out. isn’t it so funny how the only way i can feel ok is through being myself and driving around, bc that’s how i clear my head probably bc i wish there could be a reckless driver in my path that can pls kill me so i don’t ever have to go back home. i can’t go home. it’s like im not even wanted there, i know when im not wanted somewhere. it’s summer, MY summer, im supposed to be living, instead im crying thinking about ending my life, i feel like im losing control. the things that i used to make myself feel ok are being taken away from me daily. i feel like im going insane bc everything i do is somehow wrong or not what was needed of me and it hurts so much bc how else am i supposed to be alive and happy and ok if im not loved by myself and i hate myself inside and outside i feel like im not good enough for anybody, i feel like im the one person ppl always forget abt like when we’re in a public setting and with a bunch of ppl, i feel like im always the one to have been forgotten or left out. its a horrible feeling honestly bc I WAS THERE. i feel like i don’t deserve anything and i really don’t. but since ik these are my last few memories i want to make the most of them but im also scared of my mom and what she’ll say of me when im happy. and yes i smoke and drink and cvt but honestly i love smoking bc it takes away all of my pain and im left feeling nothing, ik it seems crazy but it makes me feel like im going to make it out alive and ok even for a split second but thats why im always smoking. bc you most def don’t help me feeling ok, you’re the reason why i never feel safe nor ok nor alive nor happy. i enjoy drinking bc im not gonna make it to 21 so im just getting to still experience it and also it makes me feel happy and danceful and full of joy but you always seem to take it away from me always and it truly sucks so much because sometimes i do really want to be happy w you bc you’re my mom. and i wanna be good for you but no matter what i do you can never truly appreciate anything i do. that’s why ive given up, bc you’re never gonna open ur eyes and actually see how much im trying. this summer i had so much planned! i was so hyped and excited abt it, you should’ve heard me all of senior year, talking abt how happy i was gonna be bc im free from school and im finally gonna be able to be me. idk what else you want from me, i wanna go out and have sleepovers and have friends and be out w them for hours on end and stay out late. you say i can’t go out bc im drinking but maybe if i went out more often without ur fucking mf bitch phone call on my ass every single minute. i wouldn’t be out drinking and smoking everyday as you probably think i do now bc i could actually experience happiness. and ykw my #1 rule is to never cvt myself for anyone else’s problems but i truly think that this one deserves one bc i think if she takes my car im actually gonna lost and idk what to do. i keep saying and telling myself to keep pushing for jared and jensen and misha but i don’t think i can bc im so tired and over everything i don’t wanna live anymore. i wanna slit my wrists or hang myself to my death bc i cannot bear the thought of you saying that you’re disappointed in me bc that shattered my heart and to just continue to tell me these awful things that i wish i could respond with just fucking kill me already FUCKING KILL ME! i’m sure that’s what she wanted to do either way. she says she’ll be here for whenever you need me but i don’t need you i’m fine without you in fact i’m better off without you. ik that my intentions are good for others not for myself bc everything i’ve heard come from your mouth i believe by the amount of times that you’ve told me the same things so much so that i start to believe it myself and that translates over to me hating myself constantly and not being able to experience having real friends and have a relationship and to just experience any from of love

[underoospeterparker]

hii!! i can have a 🍩 w an avenger??

i’m like 5’7” (maybe taller idk i haven’t measured in a while) and i like to get into deep convos but most of the time js need someone i can be unserious with but who’ll recognize when i’m kind of in a funk (when i get down i’m not the type of person who likes to be alone, i’m an avid believer in silent company) my main interest is film but i also like high fashion, in school a lot of ppl assume i’m not into the arts because i excel in math (skipped 3 years) and i get rlly frustrated bc a lot of the time people will only be nice to me bc they want help in school and it makes me kinda insecure abt my actual personality as a stand-alone, i consider myself pretty ambiverted bc i love being around people but only my medium-sized bubble of people, and being around anyone else makes me pretty anxious, yeah that was rlly long sorry lmao i love ur blog & i hope ur having a great week!!

welcome to my 300 celebration!

i ship you with peter parker! (assuming your gender pref is male)

a. dancing with him in the rain:

"I have an idea!" he called out one afternoon, when you were in your bedroom typing away on your laptop. "Come on, baby," he said, coming into the room to pull you away from the screen. You were laughing until he unlocked the front door and told you to put on your shoes. "What are we doing?" you asked, confused. "You know it's raining, right?" "Yes," he responded, grabbing your arm and pulling you outside into the downpour. You shrieked as the cold water hit you, and started shivering almost immediately. "Let's dance?" You looked up from your wet shoes to his face, his gaze already fixed upon yours. Your mouth spread into a grin and you wrapped your arms around his neck, his around your waist as you danced with nature all around you. "Feeling better?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You smiled. "Much."

b. peter comforting you:

You were lying on your shared bed, head in Peter's lap as you told him about the events of your day. "They told me that I should come and join them during lunch, and I said sure," you continued, all the while Peter nodded and played with your hair, a silent gesture of comfort. When you paused, lost in your thought, Peter prompted, "and then?" "And then I showed up and they just ditched. None of them came," you said, voice wavering slightly. "But the next period, they acted like nothing had happened. Asking me for help with a math question." Your boyfriend sighed, his hand scratching at your scalp. When he talked, his voice was soothing, but you could notice its tightness. He wanted to teach them a lesson, for sure. "What assholes," he settled on saying. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. You don't deserve that." "I know," you murmured into his leg. "It's just hard sometimes, you know?" He knew.

c. being anxious when you meet his friends:

He noticed a slight shake in your hands when the two of you were walking to the diner. "They're gonna love you," he said, trying to reassure you. "You've got nothing to worry about, honey." You looked at him, a worried crease already forming between his eyebrows. You gave him a smile, a small one, but one nonetheless. "Okay," you said, and once you reached the door of the diner, you opened it, stepping inside. Peter smiled when he saw his friends, who waved the two of you over with matching smiles on their faces. "Guys, this is (Y/N)," he introduced you to the group. "Nice to meet you guys," you said, giving them your best attempt at a smile. MJ motioned for you to sit next to her, and you gladly accepted her invitation. "Finally," she whispered to you. "It's been getting lonely being the only girl around here." You laughed, having already made a friend.

[majorasnightmare]

2 + 29 for dirge!

INSERT THAT ONE CLAPPING CAT GIF,,, this just goes to show that you should always reblog ask memes multiple times for ur blorbo, homies on the dash got ur back. ALWAYS 🎉🎉🎉

2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

Dirge doesn't actually have any internalized criteria for the word or defining that kind of relationship. Before the lobotomy, Dirge was deeply isolated and only had a few short years with his adopted parents to interact with society and intuit social standards and cultural concepts for interaction. Once he got into the temple, Dirge didn't reenter society again until he was deeply indoctrinated and radicalized, and even then he only did it in short bursts. He gleaned the idea from context clues and cultural osmosis, but never really internalized the idea or utilized it in his life, even if his various duties and studies brought him more exposure to the idea. "Friend" is a category of exploitable relationship individuals can have with each other that you can manipulate like any other to push someone into heinous acts of murder.

After the lobotomy, Dirge's mind is left carved near completely empty. He doesn't know who he is, where he is, what's going on, how to process it, how to answer those questions, or how to interact with another person to receive help to GET answers to those questions. He doesn't even have a muscle memory social script to default to when he talks to other people, because he simply never built such a thing in his past life. As a result, hes a social mimic. He clings to any person he can get to stay around him, and mimics their behaviors and opinions for safety and stability. Hes a huge people pleaser in act 1 because he doesn't even know enough about himself at that point to know he actually hates interacting with others, or that he enjoys killing them. So he just copies the relationship the other person is projecting onto him. If someone acts platonically, he mimics that. If someone flirts, he flirts back. He doesn't know what he wants, or even how to conceive of what he wants, so he just does whatever someone else does to avoid scaring them off. He only starts to get the hang of it by Act 2, which I typically tend to flavor as happening several weeks to months after the start of the game.

This means that Dirge doesn't call someone a "friend" until they use the word for him first. He doesn't self apply the label until someone else gives him the vocabulary to perceive and understand the relationship he has with them. But the only people he'd be inclined to be "friends" with, are the people he latched on to out of survival instinct, and the people who fell into his band afterwards on the way to destroying the Absolute. As those are the only people hes inclined to care about anyways, and their relationships tend to go a bit deeper and more complicated than what "friend" would imply, the end result is that its kind of a meaningless word that he nonetheless is extremely strict about using seriously (hes managed to intuit that sometimes strangers use the word as a generic form of politely friendly address and will mimic that particular behavior when putting on a personable front). If you really pressed him on it, Dirge wouldn't be able to coherently explain why some people are friends and some aren't, but you could very easily figure out he only really cares about around a dozen people total and come to your own conclusions about it

29. How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

This ones a head scratcher! Because Dirge is such a weird font of random trivia and high Persuasion and Deception skills, hes never really HAD someone disbelieve him! So I really have to sit and ponder for this one.

I think it'd be circumstantial based on what he was trying to tell them. If its something important to someone he cares about, ie telling the party he blacked out and woke up to a dead Alfira, he really tries to emphasize it cuz his thought is that they dont believe him because they arent understanding what hes trying to convey. If hes trying to convey skill or expertise and someone disbelieves him, it drives him up the wall and he starts getting the urge to show off or intimidate. If its minor information or trivia, he mostly just gets confused and tries to problem solve like hes in IT trying to stop your laptop from bluescreening. Something clearly went wrong moving from A (I tell you the information) to B (you receive and accept the information) so now im going to troubleshoot until I figure it out. If someome doesn't let him do that, I think the interaction sticks in his head and under his skin until he feels its resolved or something else distracts him enough to push it out of his mind. If its something like hes trying to make conversation with an NPC because he needs to be amicable, if they dont believe something hes saying its just kind of an instant mood sourer, but he doesnt pursue it because he doesnt actually care about who hes talking to. Kind of a "okay well fuck you, stay stupid then" deal

As I write this I'm noticing a trend where his default assumption is "You clearly didn't actually understand what I was saying, or you'd believe me" which. Okay mood maybe Dirge inherited more of my traits/symptoms than I initially thought sjdkskxjskdn

[whoseafraidofliloleme]

In my mind you’re my Twinsie/bffie lol. Honestly seeing your response today was sooo nice considering I’m having a really rough day personally. It’s also really nice to be able to send you asks and just talk about anything and everything together!!💕

So far the first chapter had me giggling 😂 everyone giving y/n a hard time and basically telling her “he hates you there’s no hope” it’s so pitiful in a chaotic way. I always LOVE how you portray the friend groups in your fics because they’re very relatable and realistic to me, while still being unique in their own way where it’s not repetitive in each fic. That’s one of the many things I admire about you and your writing. You keep things very interesting! I’m trying to visualize in my head her having to go up to Jungwon and convince him of her plan and it makes me laugh all over again. Heeseung responding only like twice and his only opinion being “damn if only they didn’t already know taehyun” cracks me up. Could’ve said literally ANYTHING else to help and just didn’t bother.

Ooooo does that mean there is a chance Jay will be something other than a Slytherin?? 👀

You as well babydoll!! I’ll love myself while you love yourself 🫶🏼💕 Make sure to eat lots of yummy food and stay hydrated! Don’t work too hard either!

Aww, same. I'm glad my response helped with ur bad day!. I live for making people's days better!!. I love getting asks and talking abt anything and everything. I live for this whole sending asks thing we've got going on.

No but the first chapter had me laughing too cause girlie is stuck and trying to think of any and every way that would result in her NOT having to talk to Jungwon... Like she really thinks he hates her and will point blank just ignore her.

On the note of friend groups, if I had to ask your top 5? Friend groups in my smaus which would you pick??? As mentioned this sorta stuff fascinates me, so if you can answer I'd love that 🫶🏽🫶🏽.

To be honest the friendship dynamics really just come out as I write, I never go into it thinking this is how I want the group to be. I just start writing and go from there. That's why sometimes it feels like some ppl get lost it's cause I forgot they were in the group 😅.

I actually went back to count how many times Heeseung said something and it's like 3 times 😅 but your comment cracked me up cause he really is just like oh well🤷🏽‍♂️. Heeseung really said he's not going to be a big help and I kinda love him for that.

Notice how I'm talking abt this like I'm not the one writing it and making these characters say these things... Because most the times its really them in control, as evidenced by chapter 6 of Foolish One that I wrote today where I had one idea but these lot were like nope and well I'll leave it a surprise as to the content of the chapter itself.

Okay I went back to check. I've only made Jay a Slytherin once. He's been a Gryffindor twice and then Hufflepuff & Ravenclaw once... To be fair for this AU, I was thinking he'd be a Hufflepuff. YNs house however, I'm still thinking about, I haven't figured out friends or side couples yet so might have to wait until the new year for this fic 😩😅.

Oooh the holiday season is all about food, giving and being surrounded by those you love so I hope that's the vibes around you rn!. I'm too lazy to work too hard worry not. You better be taking care of yourself!!

[euthymiya]

ok im putting my comments under the cut:

“Wowwww,” an unfortunately familiar voice croons from a nearby table. “Look at those bags. Someone didn’t sleep well last night.”

HE SUCKS LOL

“Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

IM CRYING AT THIS SKJDHF

“You remembered.” Dazai stares at you with stars in his eyes, face lighting up. “I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

asjdhf he definitely has low standards. you remember his bday 3 days late and he's like "u know the date!!! ur my soulmate!!!!"

He seems to notice your judgment of him and looks offended

I giggled sdhfg

you find yourself making your way over to him.

This is so funny bc she said she would flee if she ran into him again LOL liarrr

For a second, Dazai looks flustered. You watch as his eyes dart from the chairs and back up to you, the faintest pink hue spreading across his cheeks. His lips part to respond, but no words leave then, and he finally pushes out, “Yes.”

notttt him lying like a loser sdjkhfsd

“I was in an exceptionally good mood,” you amend smugly.

The expression on Dazai’s face is nothing short of bitter and withering. “The next time you’re in a good mood, you should pay for my tuition and rent,” he says snidely. “Well, my next project is a zoo,” you say, and you can tell from the way Dazai’s eyes narrow that he knows he’s not about to like what you’re going to say. “We can fit you in with the rest of the baboons, I suppose. That’ll be your new apartment.��� “Haha. Very funny.” “I thought so.”

THIS WHOLE INTERACTION HAD ME GIGGLING

Dazai isn’t particularly liked by the other students in his year—they think he’s odd. Which, he is odd, but they could be more discreet about it.

the good thing is he is self aware HAHA

“Fine,” you say before you can stop yourself, which he clearly doesn’t expect from how his eyes shoot open, and you don’t expect from the way your heart rate spikes as soon as the words register.  What the fuck?

omg I was like :O when she said fine

Dazai: hi (＠＾◡＾)

HIS KAOMOJI KILLED ME

Albatross: not ur personal chauffeur 😒 i’m busy

I feel him on a deep and personal level I too am everyone I know's personal driver

 “‘s a ten minute drive. I’ll get there in three.”

he is so meeee as a driver hahaha

Two years ago, an organization called the Serpent’s Tongue targeted a girl Chuuya’d been talking to trying to get him to turn himself in—a civilian girl, actually, one that he dragged into this life just like you’re unintentionally doing with Dazai. He turned himself over for her; they killed her anyway, and the whole organization paid for it with their lives. So did all of their families. You don’t think Chuuya’s ever gotten over it.

aw man this made me sooo sad for him :(

Sensing his discomfort, he watches your eyes track down to the bandages peeking over his collar and sleeves, and then you pointedly turn around to face the wall, sighing as you pull out your phone.

this made me clutch my heart it was so oddly sweet in a way awww

Kido slaps his hand to get him to stop when it messes up the measurement of his hips, and Dazai promptly stills. “I prefer free verse. It’s my favorite style of poetry.”

I got a good giggle at the image in my head of him getting his hands sternly slapped kjdfh

Oh. Dazai hesitates, throat bobbing as he swallows, lashes fluttering as he averts his gaze down toward the floor. “My friend… he passed away a few years ago. Right before I was about to enter college, actually. He asked me to finish his book for him—I told him I don’t know anything about writing and that it’ll turn out bad if he had me do it, but he insisted… and I mean, I can’t really say no to my dying best friend, can I?”

eating a rock as we speak. here she comes with her killing everyone off streak. even though this is canon but still

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he’s positively vibrating at your words until Kido lets out a heavy sigh. “Dazai-sama, please stop moving so much.”

he is just a puppyyyyyy

"Cao Xueqin will have him chopped into pieces and send you on a fucking treasure hunt across the city to get all of his limbs together for a proper burial."

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“I’m not you,” you spit out, a low blow, you know. To Chuuya’s credit, he doesn’t react beyond a sharp inhale, nostrils flaring briefly. “No, you’re not,” he agrees. “I wouldn’t be so fucking stupid to make the same mistake twice.”“That was your mistake,” you hiss. “Not mine.”

oh shitttt the girls are fightingggg and its heatedddd

ᡣ𐭩 YOU'RE TOO SWEET FOR ME

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: one chance encounter at a bar and suddenly you're seeing dazai osamu everywhere you go. you must have truly done wrong in your past life for you to run into him at so many places so frequently. you can't let this go on—for his sake and for yours—but the stupid civilian is worming his way into your life, blissfully unaware of who you are and what you do.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: AHHHHHHHH GUYS I HOPE UR EXCITED BECAUSE I AM, i've been obsessing over this literally since the idea first came to me, i'm rlly hoping you guys enjoy this half as much as i've loved writing it. civzai is truly becoming my roman empire. please leave a reblog! always appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

If you had known stopping at some random bar in the southern part of Hodogaya-ku would lead to a fucking college student attaching himself to you like a goddamn leech, then you would have gone to a different bar. You should’ve known better; this area is close to YNU, but you figured it was lowkey enough that most of the college students wouldn’t know about it. 

It’s just your luck that the most irritating one just so happened to.

Your eye twitches as you take another sip of your whiskey, pointedly ignoring the brunette who’d made his home on the barstool next to yours. He’s talking about something—an assignment for his creative writing class that you could hardly give half a shit about—and your head hurts. You’d been hoping for a quick drink before having to go back to headquarters and give Mori the rundown on the negotiations with Mishima.

You don’t want to go back. Mori pissed you off by scheduling this meeting without notifying you of it until literally thirty minutes before. But you also think that if you stay here any longer, you might murder this kid—and that’s saying a lot for someone who usually refuses to get her hands dirty.

“... but you see, I just have no inspiration,” the student—he said his name, but you ignored it—complains loudly, slumping over dramatically onto the bartop. “How am I supposed to write with no inspiration? I have no muse, no drive, no will to live. What do I do, bella?”

You side-eye him heavily before turning your attention back toward the bartender, Kobayashi, a man who knows who you are and what you do since this is a place that the lower ranking Mafiosos frequent, and is watching the scene taking place with an expression that’s nothing short of concern. You recognize some of the other bar patrons as well—one is an informant of yours that you’ve been meaning to get in contact with, two of Chuuya’s subordinates are here, and one of Kouyou’s.

“Luckily, I’ve run into you, bella,” the man sighs dreamily, big brown eyes peering up at you from where he’s draped across the bar. “You’ll be my muse, won’t you?” 

For the first time since you’ve arrived at the bar, you address him, “I think I would rather die.”

He blinks once. Twice. And then he laughs so loud that it draws half of the patrons’ attention. “Would you allow me to die with you?” he pleads, hands clasped together as he leans in closer to you. “I knew you were the one for me—it could be beautiful, a double suicide on the banks of Tsurumi. I-”

“Okay,” you say more to yourself than him, placing your wine glass on the bar and rising to your feet. “I’m leaving.”

He pushes his lip out as he watches you rise to your feet. You tell Kobayashi to put your drink on your tab before turning on your heel and making your way out of the bar. Much to your extreme displeasure, the student seems to follow you, scrambling after you.

“Wait! Won’t you give me your name? Number?” he cries. 

You slam the door to the bar in his face, but he’s unperturbed, yelping and pushing it right back open. You grit your teeth when you realize Albatross is the one who came to pick you up and bring you back to base, which means you’re never going to hear the end of this from him or any of the other Flags. You can already see him peering out the closed window, trying to figure out who’s chasing you.

“No.”

“How will I find you again then?” he laments, and to your horror, he catches up with you, trying to grab your wrist to stop you from leaving. You toss him a flinty look before snatching your wrist back. 

“That’s the point.” You smile sweetly. “You won’t.”

You get in the car and slam the door shut, pointedly locking it before turning your attention to Albatross, who’s already chewing on his bottom lip, trying not to laugh.

“So,” he starts with a tone that lets you know you’re very much not going to like whatever he’s about to say.

“Albatross, shut the fuck up.”

Dazai stares after you curiously, watching as you slam the door shut to a car that probably costs more than everything he’s ever owned in his entire life. He doesn’t think he’s ever met someone like you before, and he doesn’t even know what it is about you that’s drawing him in. 

You’re beautiful but cold, aloof but magnetic. He hadn’t been the only one affected by your presence—he’d noticed the lingering stares of other men in the bar, the way the bartender always rushed to ensure that your glass was full, hardly able to meet your eyes. Something itches in the back of his head, a gut feeling that maybe he’s missing something, but Dazai disregards it, leaning against the brick wall of the building behind him, tilting his head up to look up at the vast night sky. 

He does know one thing for sure, and that’s that he thinks he’s found his muse. After four years of the worst writer’s block he’s had in his life, Dazai’s fingers finally twitch for a pen.

He finds a smile curling onto his lips—a genuine one—and the muscles of his cheeks strain from the unfamiliar stretch.

For the first time since Odasaku’s death, the emptiness that has been endlessly plaguing Dazai’s chest is pushed out by a warmth that he hasn’t experienced in years. Letting out a shaky breath, giddy and excited in a way that leaves a skip in his step, Dazai makes his way back to his apartment rather than the bridge as he planned, intent on trying to figure out a way to find you again.

Maybe another day, Odasaku.

The gods are sick and cruel. You’ve known this since you were a child—seven years old and sitting in the center of piles of corpses after your village got caught in the crossfires of the Great War, rescued by a man who promised to send you right back if you couldn’t prove your worth to him. Your entire life, you feel like you’ve been the laughing stock of whatever higher beings there are, which is why you’re aggrieved but not surprised when that boy from the bar shows back up in your life.

You don’t even notice him at first. You’re exhausted—you’ve spent the past forty-eight hours awake and on comms for Akutagawa Gin and Tachihara Michizou as they infiltrated one of the low-rung gangs trying to move into the northern wards of Yokohama. It took longer for them to get to the leader than you thought it would, you were confident that it would be an in-and-out, less than twelve hours, but here you are two fucking days later, and you can’t even go back to your apartment and sleep because someone is demanding your immediate presence.

You wonder, sometimes, if death would be easier.

A part of you wants to just straight up ignore Mori and go back home to sleep. You personally think you deserve it, considering the mission went off without a single issue besides the unexpected length of it, but you also don’t want to hear the man bitch and make snide comments about insubordination, so you give your coffee order to the barista—your voice a bit too harsh, so you make up for it with a generous tip and then go wait for it at the opposite counter.

“Wowwww,” an unfortunately familiar voice croons from a nearby table. “Look at those bags. Someone didn’t sleep well last night.”

You think maybe death would be easier.

“As if my night couldn’t get any worse,” you say tightly, lips pressed together in a strained smile as you stare ahead, refusing to even turn to look at the irritating college student.

“It’s actually morning,” he says astutely.

“Find someone else to bother.”

He ignores you, naturally, and you let your eyes slide shut as you will yourself some patience when you hear the chair scrape against the ground, signaling him rising to his feet. You keep your gaze trained ahead even as you hear him approach you.

“Do you believe in fate, bella?” he hums, leaning over your shoulder to look at you.

You squint as you stare forward, rushing desperately for the barista to hurry up with your coffee, and you pointedly step away from him. “No.”

Well, you don’t actually know the answer to that question. Do you believe in fate? You don’t think you do. You like the idea of being able to carve out your own future without the meddling hands of gods trying to interfere, but can you really believe that everything in your life that’s happened to you is just by sheer chance? You’re not so sure.

“Well, I believe in fate,” he begins, and you already know you’re not going to like where this is going. “If I didn’t before, I certainly do now. What else could have led me to you again so soon? The red string tied around our fingers is demanding our love to finally bloom; it no longer tolerates the distance between us. My fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death for so long; it refused to embrace me because it knew I belonged in your arms instead!”

You almost don’t even register what he says, blinking a few times as the words process. 

“Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

You turn to face the brunette, appalled, and he gives you a sweet smile before saying, “You’ll have to be more specific. There’s a lot of things wrong with me.”

“Clearly,” you scoff, shaking your head and taking your coffee from the barista.

You can already feel your phone buzzing incessantly in your pocket. You don’t even have to look to know it’s Mori asking where you are, probably Chuuya bitching about having to cover for you too. You can’t waste any more time lingering around, so without another thought or word, you promptly leave the cafe.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” he calls after you. Much to your displeasure, he scrambles to grab his over-the-shoulder backpack before, much to your displeasure, chasing after you. “My name is Dazai. Dazai Osamu.”

“Did I, at any point, ask?” you ask irritably, making your way down the street in the direction of the headquarters, hoping that he leaves you alone before you get there because the last thing you want to do is get there with him trailing you like a lost puppy. Albatross already saw him following after you once. If he catches the kid around you again, he’s going to start making assumptions, and that’s the last thing you need because he’ll immediately go gossip to Chuuya and Lippmann about it.

“Well, no,” Dazai says, “but won’t you give me your name in return?”

“No,” you say, giving him a smile as equally sweet as the one he gave you before. You roll your eyes as you take a sip of your coffee. “Don’t you have more productive things to do than bother me? Like, I don’t know, finishing that assignment you spent two hours bitching my ear off about a few nights ago?” 

“You remembered.” Dazai stares at you with stars in his eyes, face lighting up. “I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

“It’s hard not to pay attention when you’re babbling in my ear,” you say dryly, a bit put off by how surprised and pleased he is over you remembering what he’d been talking about. “Why are you still following me?”

“I want your name,” Dazai pouts, words drawn a bit long as if to make a point, but it only makes your eye twitch. “Your number, if you’re feeling generous.”

“Well, I’m in a decidedly bad mood, so you’re getting neither,” you say, giving him a faux sweet smile that makes him push his lip out even further. “You look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously cute?” 

“No. Ridiculous.”

“Your beauty blinds me to your cruelty,” Dazai sighs dramatically. “I will not be driven away.”

“You should have more self-respect,” you say flatly, giving him yet another facetious smile before letting it drop and giving him a side-eye. You look him over once as you do; he’s dressed casually in a cream sweater and corduroy pants, a brown bag slung over his shoulder. Cute, but sickeningly… civilian. He seems to notice your judgment of him and looks offended—you speak before he can complain. “I have to go to work, so it’s time for you to leave.”

“To work?” Dazai blinks as if he hadn’t expected that from you, brows furrowing. “You look dead on your feet. You should be going home.”

I wish, you think mournfully. Even just the thought of your bed makes your body heavy with exhaustion. You just want to sleep, but Mori won’t even allow you the relief of that. You can’t help but wonder if you pissed him off because you have no idea why he’s being such an asshole. You don’t even think you did anything this time; you disagreed with him at one of the executive meetings last week, but you weren’t even rude while doing it. And you thought your idea was good. 

You realize that Dazai is still waiting for a response from you, and you try to recall what he’d said, rolling your eyes when you do.

“Wow, thank you.” Your voice is dry and sarcastic. You give him a withering look that he meets with a stupid smile. “The longer you hold me up, the longer it’ll take for me to get home and sleep, so kindly fuck off.”

Dazai sighs. “The things I do for love,” he says mournfully, stopping in his tracks and giving you a downcast look, brown eyes wide and sad and lips curled down. You’re actually a bit surprised that he gave in, letting out a hum of appreciation—you almost didn’t think he would. “The next time we meet, you have to give me your name.”

“We’re not going to meet again,” you say firmly, and you mean it this time because if you see this guy again, you’re going to flee in the other direction. For his sake and your dignity because it’s only a matter of time before unwelcome eyes catch you with him.

“We will,” he sings. “Fate demands it of us. Goodbye, bella. Have a good day.”

You don’t respond to him when you walk away. Dazai is still undeterred. He’s hardly stopped thinking of you since that night at the bar a few days ago. Every time his mind drifts off, he finds himself picturing your face, longing to talk to you again. He thinks maybe it’s a bit weird for him to be so enamored by you after just two brief meetings, but there’s just something about you that’s drawing him in like a moth to flame.

His eyes linger on you until you turn the block and disappear from view. He’s a bit put out over the fact that he still doesn’t have your name, but he thinks that the meeting is still a win in his eyes. First at the bar, now at this cafe, you must live or work somewhere in the eastern part of the Kanagawa Prefecture—Hodogaya-ku or Minami-ku, maybe Nishi or Naka. He’s leaning toward the latter, considering you’re heading eastward to get to wherever your work is.

And it would make sense. Naka-ku has all of the high-end corporations, and you must work for one of them. Your outfit the other day, your outfit today—not gaudy wealth, but wealth for sure. He thinks the black suits you wear cost more than his tuition, and the rings adorning your fingers cost a liver or three. You can’t be much older than him if you even are, so you’re probably just a nepo-baby—father owns one of the big corps and gave you a high-up position right out of school. Probably never had to work a day in your life, he thinks bitterly of all of the time he’s spent working odd jobs just to afford rent in the area, surviving off cheap ramen and canned crab.

But it’s a bit odd, isn’t it? You look like you haven’t slept in two days, maybe longer. Dazai almost felt bad for badgering you just because of how exhausted you seemed. Dazai can’t imagine any type of business demanding that type of energy from one of its workers—especially a nepo-baby.

Dazai finally shakes his head, glancing down at his phone to see the time, sighing when he realizes it’s time to get to class for his poetry workshop, a bit more pleased because, for the first time since classes started three months ago, he actually has something to give to the professor.

The next time you run into Dazai, you see him first. Despite vehemently telling yourself that you would run in the other direction if you happened upon him again, you find yourself hesitating. You don’t even know why you’re hesitating; you shouldn’t be hesitating. 

You’re stopping at one of the libraries at YNU to meet with an informant of yours—the son of the leader of your political opposition in the House of Councillors—all it took was a few sweet words and teasing smiles to have the boy wrapped around your finger, giving you all of the dirty details of his father's dealings for you to use against him when trying to sway the swing votes to your side.

It’s supposed to be an in-and-out meeting, and you don’t want to spend more than 15 minutes in this building if you don’t have to. You still have to meet with one of the oil barons from Venezuela that Mori is trying to get in bed with, and you’re hoping to meet with Mishima before the new military bill passes through the House of Representatives in two months—you suppose you can do that tomorrow, but you’re pretty sure he’s leaving to go deal with some issue with his narcotics trade in western Europe in a few days so you don’t want to leave it to the last minute.

The kid—you don’t even remember his first name, you only know that he’s Kimura’s asshole son, and he cares more about getting his dick wet than the sanctity of family secrets (not that it bothers you considering you’re benefiting from it, but you digress)—is surely already upstairs in one of the private study rooms waiting for you, but your feet are rooted to the ground.

Dazai Osamu sits at one of the study tables in the back, brows furrowed as he reads whatever textbook is in front of him, dressed in a cozy brown sweater. He looks distinctly displeased, tongue poking out between his lips as he scribbles away at his paper—you can’t tell what he’s reading or writing, but it notably does not look like creative writing.

He also looks distinctly lonely. He’s sitting alone at a table meant for four, and there are dozens of groups of students around him, chatting and laughing in their study groups. There are tables for one person lining the walls, so you can’t help but wonder if he chose the larger table specifically to spite the people coming in groups so they have to cram at a smaller table or if he’s meeting people here.

Before you can stop yourself—because you should stop yourself—you find yourself making your way over to him. He doesn’t even notice you at first, not until you’re right in front of the table and peering down at the textbook he’s reading: Intro to Engineering.

“That doesn’t look like creative writing,” you say dryly, lips quirking up in amusement when Dazai physically startles at your appearance, looking up at you with wide eyes and parted lips. Almost cute, if he wasn’t so annoying—you think maybe if he was one of Kouyou’s girls, you might’ve given him a chance.

For a second, Dazai looks as if he’s going to make a quip—you expect a loud comment about fate and love, but instead, his expression softens after a minute as he looks down at his textbook, making you tilt your head to the side curiously at the change in demeanor.

“Intro to Engineering,” he finally says with a wry smile, motioning toward the book. “A required class, much to my extreme displeasure.”

“Sounds terrible,” you say absently, gaze flicking around, noting all of the prying eyes now not-so-discreetly eyeing your table. 

You’re used to people staring at you, you have eyes on you pretty much at all times, and a bunch of nobody college students are nothing compared to the eyes of politicians and foreign mafiosos, half of whom want your head piked. Dazai, on the other hand, doesn’t look quite as comfortable beneath the stares of so many of his classmates, which is surprising to you, considering how bold he was with you at the bar and in public the other day. 

“Are you meeting people?” you ask curiously, glancing at the empty chairs around him.

For a second, Dazai looks flustered. You watch as his eyes dart from the chairs and back up to you, the faintest pink hue spreading across his cheeks. His lips part to respond, but no words leave then, and he finally pushes out, “Yes.”

A lie. A blatant one at that, and he can tell how poorly it came out from the way he winces. You blink, curious as to why he doesn’t want to admit he’s at the library alone, but then shrug because you don’t really care.

“Why are you here?” You raise your eyebrows at the sheer attitude in the question, almost caught off guard by it. Dazai clearly did not intend for it to come out that way, so he immediately shrinks and then adds too quickly, “You don’t go to school here, I mean.”

“Yeah… okay,” you say dryly, a bit offended, wondering why you even came over here. Dazai looks remorseful at his words but only averts his gaze down to the table. Finally, you sigh, choosing your words carefully because you don’t want him—or anyone—to know you’re meeting someone because if anyone finds out Kimura’s kid is feeding you information, you’d be in a shitty position. Instead, you go with, “I own this building. I come to check on it from time to time.”

Any remorse on Dazai’s face is gone as he stares at you flatly. “You… own this building?”

“I donated the money to have it built, yes,” you say, unsure of why he’s giving you such a deadpan expression. 

And it’s the truth: you did it three years ago when you first realized Kimura’s son was attending YNU as a freshman. You needed an excuse to come to campus and ‘run into him,’ so you decided to just have a library built with the reasoning that your deceased father attended the university, and you wanted it in his name. 

Did your father attend YNU? You have no idea—hardly even remember the man—but you had Piano Man forge some records to show that he did.

“Why?” Dazai asks.

“I was in a good mood,” you say sarcastically to evade the question.

“You were in a good mood, so you decided to spend hundreds of millions of yen on a library for a university you don’t even attend?” he questions doubtfully.

“I was in an exceptionally good mood,” you amend smugly.

The expression on Dazai’s face is nothing short of bitter and withering. “The next time you’re in a good mood, you should pay for my tuition and rent,” he says snidely.

“Well, my next project is a zoo,” you say, and you can tell from the way Dazai’s eyes narrow that he knows he’s not about to like what you’re going to say. “We can fit you in with the rest of the baboons, I suppose. That’ll be your new apartment.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

As you banter, there’s something sharp and calculating in his eyes that you don’t like—you vaguely noticed it in the past two meetings with him but are only really catching it now as he stares steadily at you, trying to figure you out. Which you can’t let happen, obviously, so you give him a faux-sweet smile instead and lift your hand to wave your fingers in a goodbye, preparing to make your leave and go find Kimura’s kid upstairs. 

“I have to go,” you say, and then add belatedly, “hope this never happens again.”

Dazai pushes his lip out into a pout reminiscent of the one he gave you the other day outside of the cafe, but his heart doesn’t seem to be in it this time. His eyes are distant as they flick around the vast library again, disappointed almost. Lonely. You don’t know why you’re still standing there and you especially don’t know why you find your lips parting to speak.

You very much don’t know why your name comes out, and when Dazai looks up at you, eyes wide and with a shine in them that wasn’t there before, a question ready on his lips, you almost hesitate. Almost find yourself at a loss for words. Something that hasn’t happened to you in… years, actually. 

What the fuck?

You play it off quickly. “You wanted my name, didn’t you?” you drawl, looking down at him unimpressed as if you’re not entirely horrified with yourself right now.

Dazai looks at you as if you’ve handed him the stars, sun, and moon on a silver platter, and you decide it’s time to leave before he can say anything else—more importantly before you can say anything else—lifting your hand lazily to wave at him over your shoulder without looking back. 

Once you’re well out of sight—all the way up the stairs leading to the private study rooms with the one-way glass windows looking down into the main section of the library—you finally allow yourself one last look.

Dazai still sits the same exact way you left him, staring at where you’d left with a stupid smile on his face and a starstruck look in his eyes. You roll your eyes, and you firmly choose to ignore the faint smile curving at the corners of your lips.

Your name rings through his head on repeat, a giddy feeling spreading through his chest. His whole body feels light and his fingers thrum across the wood of the table he’s sitting at, unable to stop the smile that rises to his lips. You approached him this time and you gave him your name—progress, good progress. In his exhilaration, he can almost ignore the dozens of curious eyes lingering on him wondering who you were and how you knew Dazai of all people. 

He supposes he can’t blame them for being curious—you’re someone who’s clearly not cut from the same cloth as the rest of them; if your clothes didn’t make that apparent enough, the way you hold yourself does. And to approach him… Dazai isn’t particularly liked by the other students in his year—they think he’s odd. Which, he is odd, but they could be more discreet about it.

“Hey, Dazai-kun, who was that?” one of the third-year boys asks, leaning over from his table to try to get Dazai’s attention, intrigued gaze pinned on where you’d disappeared to.

Dazai pointedly does not acknowledge him. Partially because he’s not about to encourage competition, you’re Dazai’s muse, and Dazai is not keen on sharing you, but mostly because he doesn’t even know the answer to that question. 

Who are you? 

Dazai knew you were wealthy just from the way you dressed, but the way you so casually mentioned that you’d donated the money for this library to be built a few years ago was absurd. You can’t be much older than him, so what? You were eighteen or nineteen, donating hundreds of millions, billions of yen to have a library built? And for what? It doesn’t make sense. Dazai prides himself on his shrewd mind and ability to read people, but he just can’t figure you out. 

He must be missing something

He pulls out his phone, clicking on the safari app before hesitating. You only gave him your first name—he doubts that he’ll actually find anything on you, but a part of him holds out hope because you clearly have more money than god, and anyone with that much money must have some heavy sway on politics and society. Rich people have the media following them like dogs looking for a bone.

So, he tries, and he’s sorely disappointed when only websites about name etymology and pronunciation pop up. He sighs as he flips to a new page in his notebook, giving up on trying to figure out these engineering formulas for now. 

Instead, he writes your name at the top of the page, tapping his pen to his lips as he tries to figure out who exactly his new muse is. 

You don’t see Dazai for two weeks after that. You don’t have the chance to—you’re busy getting ready for the gala the government is hosting to honor some agency based in Tokyo. An excuse so they can gather all of the House Representatives and Councillors in one spot for both sides to advocate for or against the major military bill passing through the National Diet in a month and a half. You’ll be attending to represent the Mori Corporation, as always, and you’re hoping Mishima sends Kiyomasa on behalf of Age of Blue Co., his own front for the Sun and Steel. You think with the two of you taking on the burden of convincing the swing votes, you’ll get it done.

Now, though, you’re in a foul mood because you have to waste time you don’t have out of your day to deal with one of the landlords the Port Mafia is leasing property to. He’s been skimping out on payments owed and, evidently, has grown balls that he certainly shouldn’t have, considering he had the nerve to turn away two of your subordinates when they came to collect. He obviously thinks he can get away with it because it's a low-priority issue compared to all of the other things going on with the military bill and developments in China and Russia with Cao Xueqin and Vladimir Nabokov. You have half a mind to stuff a 24 in his mouth and pull the trigger just to show him how low of a priority he really is. 

You might, honestly, depending on his decisions in the next ten minutes.

You get to the complex in Hodogaya-ku half-past six in the morning, wanting to get this done and out of the way well before Tolstoy arrives in the city at ten to meet with you about the rising issues in the mainland. For once, luck seems to be on your side because when Albatross pulls up to the complex, you see Mado on the phone outside, in a heated conversation with someone.

“Have fun,” Albatross sings as you push open the car door to make your way over to the older man.

Mado catches sight of you instantly, eyes widening and pallor taking on a ghastly color as he hangs up on whoever he is talking to so he can take a step back closer to the front doors of the complex. You tilt your head to the side, pointedly shifting your suit jacket so he can catch sight of the gun holstered at your side before hiding it again.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you say with a thin smile as you draw closer.

“You’re-” Mado begins but cuts himself off quickly.

“Mado-kun,” you greet, hands clasped behind your back as you watch the man carefully. “I hear you had an issue with two of my subordinates.”

“I-”

“Or, well, there was no issue because you quite rudely turned them away,” you amend dryly. “I’d love to know your reasoning. I’ve got a few running theories of my own.”

“You misunderstand-”

“The most plausible theory, in my opinion, is that you think you can slide under the radar because there are more important things going on right now. You think you can make quick money by shaving off the money owed to us to keep for yourself,” you continue, smile falling off your face. “If that’s the case, I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken. The Port Mafia always repays its debts, and we always collect upon them.”

Mado takes in a stunted breath, then steps back again. “N-No. No, you misunderstand-” he tries again, and your lip curls up in frustration, eyes darting around the complex. 

It would be risky. Very risky. The Mafia controls all of the cameras in the complex, and you’re not in sight of any of the windows, but it’s broad daylight, and there’s always the off chance someone walks out while you’re in the process of putting a bullet through his skull. You’re just so fed up, and Albatross is right there…

You let out a puff of air, almost amused, as you take a step back and nod to yourself. Whatever, you think to yourself. It’s better than listening to him stumble over weak excuses, wasting even more of your time. Just as you’re about to reach for your gun, the door to the apartment complex slams open, and you halt.

“Really?” A familiar voice says, loud and frustrated. “You’re going to hang up on me now?”

You blink, head snapping to the side for your eyes to focus on Dazai Osamu, dressed in gray sweats and a black-tshirt, bandages wrapped all the way from his wrists disappearing under his shirt. He’s angry, brows furrowed as he glares at Mado, doesn’t even notice you standing there. Your irritation instantly fades, replaced with mild curiosity and entertainment.

“Dazai,” you greet easily, an amused smile curling at the corners of your lips. You ignore the stunned look Mado casts between the two of you. “You live here?”

Dazai freezes as soon as he hears your voice, brown eyes wide as looks at you, finally registering your presence. “You-what are you doing here?” He sounds caught off guard, in disbelief.

Almost the same question, almost the same tone as the way he asked why you were at the library two weeks ago, the smile on your lips now is decidedly mocking as you repeat the answer you gave him back then. “I own this building. The whole complex, actually.”

“You’re joking,” Dazai says flatly.

“Hmm,” you say, as if you’re thinking to yourself. “No, I don’t believe I am. Ask Mado-kun here, I’ve had to take time out of my day to come speak to him because he refuses to pay for the property we lease to him.”

You give Mado a faux-sweet smile, watching as he looks even more aghast as he looks between you and Dazai.

Dazai looks incensed by your words. “So not only do you refuse to fix my water problems, but you can’t even pay for the property?” he says snidely. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

You raise your eyebrows, glancing at Dazai and then back to Mado. “Is that so?”

“Dazai-san,” Mado laughs nervously. “Don’t be hasty now-”

“Hasty?” Dazai demands. “I’ve gone two weeks without water. Every time I call you about it, you blow me off.”

“How fascinating,” you say lightly, giving Mado a cool look. “Well, the complex will have a new landlord soon. Mado-kun, please head to the car so we can work out the details of terminating the contract.”

Mado stares at you as if you’ve just signed his death sentence. Which you suppose you have. Terminating the contract is a gentler way of putting terminating his life. You raise your eyebrows and lift your hand to shoo him away, making eye contact with Albatross who had stepped out of the car as soon as Dazai had come outside.

Albatross tosses you a wink and nods toward Dazai; you give him a withering look, directing your attention back to Dazai as Mado walks over to the sleek black car you’d arrived in.

The look Dazai gives you is akin to a kicked puppy, and his words are drawn out long as he speaks, a quiet whine that shouldn’t do something to you but it does. “I was suffering in your building for two weeks,” he pouts. “I should be compensated.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll send someone to fix your water,” you say dryly. 

“You should give me your number,” Dazai says sweetly. “Just in case this happens again.”

“I’ll get you a new landlord and I’ll give you his number,” you say just as sweetly, relishing in the way he pushes his lip out even more.

“But what if it’s another bad landlord? I should have your number so I can call you just in case,” Dazai presses, tilting his head to the side and batting his lashes at you so blatantly that you have half a mind to snort and walk away.

Instead, you find yourself letting out a huff of laughter as you shake your head.

“Fine,” you say before you can stop yourself, which he clearly doesn’t expect from how his eyes shoot open, and you don’t expect from the way your heart rate spikes as soon as the words register. 

What the fuck?

You justify this by telling yourself that Mado’s inability to properly run the complex has, in turn, made the Mafia look bad, making it seem as if you’re unable to manage your own properties. It’s better to have someone who will instantly start complaining as soon as things go wrong so you can fix it right away.

Dazai scrambles to pull his phone from the pocket of his sweats and your lips quirk up a bit when you see the way his fingers are just barely trembling. 

Cute.

You can see him watching you anxiously from the corner of his eye as you type your number into his phone quickly with your first name and hand it back to him. A bit embarrassed by how quickly you gave in to him, you make up for it with: “Don’t bother me unless it’s urgent.”

“Mhm,” Dazai agrees as he takes his phone back from you, looking down at your contact information with bright eyes. Then he suddenly pouts, “You didn’t even give yourself a cute contact name. Just your first name. That’s so boring.”

You watch as he immediately starts typing and squint at him, “What did you change it to?” you ask suspiciously, trying to look, but he pockets his phone before you can, tossing you a saccharine smile.

“You should waive my rent too,” Dazai adds, voice soft and honeyed.

The fucking audacity of this kid, you think to yourself, almost laughing in disbelief. You just gave him your number against all better judgment—he has to have more than a few screws loose, maybe all of them. The worst part is, you think the more time you spend around him, the looser yours become, too, because somehow you’re actually considering it.

You shouldn’t even be having this conversation with him. He’s a civilian. You’re an executive in the Mafia. You shouldn’t have given him your number, you shouldn’t have given him your name, you shouldn’t have entertained any of this at all. He’s a civilian, and you can’t be giving him special treatment because he is a civilian. A normal guy going to university to live a normal life. The more time you spend around him, the more likely he is to become one of the nameless bodies dumped in the abandoned shipping container yard by the ports, caught in the crossfires of an underworld conflict that he shouldn’t be anywhere near just because he was seen with you.

This shouldn’t bother you. It shouldn’t. You’ve been the reason for countless deaths, pulled the trigger yourself on most, so why is it when you think of Dazai Osamu’s stupid big brown eyes glassy and empty—body forgotten and rotting in a pile of corpses in that dumping ground—do you find your mouth dry and your chest tight?

It’s an effort for you to force out a laugh and wave him off over your shoulder as you turn to leave. 

“Yeah, as if.”

There’s a skip in Dazai’s step as he makes his way back into his small studio apartment, fingers curled around his phone. As soon as he shuts the door, he flings himself onto his futon, pulling his phone out of his pocket and smiling at the new contact in it.

My Muse is what he’d changed the contact to from the boring name you’d entered it under as if you were only just an acquaintance to him and not his muse, his inspiration, his will to live. He clicks the message button on your contact and quickly types:

Dazai: hi (＠＾◡＾)

Instantly, it pops up that you read the message, and he waits anxiously for the three dots to appear, signaling that you’re typing a response, but they never come. He pouts to himself when he realizes that you’re not going to respond. A part of him wonders if maybe you gave him a fake number, but he doubts it. Still, Dazai wanted to get more information on you anyway, so he quickly pulls up a different contact. Dazai might not have a lot of friends, but he does have a lot of people who owe him favors.

Dazai: kataiii, remember when i helped u get a date with that brunette at the cafe? :P Katai: What do you want?

Dazai types in your number and promptly sends it to him. 

Dazai: tell me whatever info u can find about the person who owns this number.

Katai doesn’t respond, so Dazai figures that he’s already on the hunt. Instead, he grabs his notebook and flips right to the page where he’s been listing all of the things he’s noticed about you. 

Rich. Nepo baby?

Demanding job? What type of nepo baby has a demanding job?

REALLY rich? Built the nice library on campus, donated hundreds of millions of yen at 18/19 to build it—weird. Evaded answering when asked why.

Dazai taps his pen to his lips, trying to figure out what he wants to add on the next bullet point, and just as he thinks he’s formulated his next observation, his phone buzzes again.

Katai: No information. At all. Not even a name. Dazai: really? Katai: Yeah. Kind of weird, honestly. Usually I can find at least something small to go off of. It’s like this number doesn’t exist.

Interesting, Dazai thinks to himself, even more intrigued now as he sits up in his futon and starts making his next note. Wealthy, distant, cold, and apparently a ghost to even Katai Tamaya, who can usually find anyone and everyone with the smallest bit of information. 

Who are you?

You’re in a meeting with Mori, Kouyou, and Ace when you get the text. It’s from an unsaved number, but one that you already have ingrained in your head, considering you get several dozen texts a day from it. You don’t even know why you bother to check this time—you usually just ignore them until you have nothing better to do than see what he’s yapping on about. Maybe this time, it’s because it’s only a single message; you’re used to getting them en masse, eight or nine messages in a row, unnecessarily split up when they could’ve been combined into one message.

As Ace drones on about whatever issues he’s having at his casinos, you spare a glance down at your phone, unlocking it to click on the message. You halt when you see that the only thing Dazai sent you is a ping with his location. Your eyes flit back upward to make sure no one is looking at you, and then you type a quick message back.

You: ?

You wait, tongue scraping against the roof of your mouth as the three bubbles pop up on your phone. His response is quick, and your stress levels skyrocket when all he sends is a “help.” Your mind races as you try to figure out what to do—if you leave the meeting now, you’re bound to draw Mori’s attention, but…

You shouldn’t care. What are you doing? You should not care. He’s a random kid that you happened to run into a couple of times, who has somehow managed to convince himself that the two of you are fated. He’s delusional and annoying, and you’d probably be better off with him gone and unable to bother you. His existence puts you in danger as much as it does him, and the fact that you’re sitting here actually contemplating going to this location to see what’s wrong is proof enough of that.

Shit.

Once again, you’re forced to justify your own actions to yourself as you find yourself rising to your feet. You tell yourself you’re only heading there to put an end to this, to tell him that he has to stop bothering you, to stop texting a dozen times a minute, several times a day. To tell him that he has to forget about you and go back to whatever he was doing before he ran into you at the bar that night.

With all eyes on you, the cogs in your mind turn quickly for an excuse. You only come up with a vague and weak one, one that you know Mori will question later on.

“Something urgent just came up,” you say, smiling thinly at the three other executives at the round table. You pointedly ignore the curious look in Mori’s eyes, knowing nothing good ever comes from drawing his curiosity. “I have more important things to do than listen to Ace whine about his own failings.”

“You-” Ace spits out, face going red as he stands up, but you’re already leaving the conference room.

You: Have the car outside in 2 minutes. Albatross: not ur personal chauffeur 😒 i’m busy

You roll your eyes at the response as you make your way into the elevator, clicking the button to bring you down to the first floor. Each second in the elevator feels like an eternity, and you find yourself glancing back down at your phone frequently to see if Dazai sends another message, but he does not.

What are you doing?

You find yourself shaking your head, a bit lost and taken aback by your own actions, as the elevator doors slide open to the first-floor lobby. You ignore your subordinates and the other Mafia underlings as you make your way to the front doors of the headquarters. 

Albatross is dutifully waiting outside for you.

“Not my personal chauffeur, huh?” you say sarcastically as soon as you open the door to sit in the passenger seat. “What happened to being busy?”

“You take me for granted,” Albatross complains, head lolling to the side against the headrest to toss you a side-eye. “Where we goin’, doll?” 

You show him the location sent to you, and you pointedly ignore the knowing look Albatross gives you at the unsaved number in your phone. He takes it in his hand to zoom into the precise location and raises his eyebrows.

“The hell is he doing on that side of the city?” Albatross says more to himself than to you, putting the phone down and shifting the car into gear. You also pointedly ignore how he immediately knows who you’re rushing off to help. “‘s a ten minute drive. I’ll get there in three.”

Oh god. It’s not like you haven’t been in car chases with Albatross before, but you don’t think anything can prepare you for the lurching in your stomach as he takes off. They’re fun usually, but you’re also usually with Chuuya, and you’re also usually distracted trying to gun down whoever is giving chase, you’re not paying attention to how dangerously he’s weaving in and out of traffic to get from place to place.

Albatross looks entirely exhilarated. There’s a wide smile on his face, pupils blown wide, sunglasses hanging off the bridge of his nose as he leans forward. He lets out a wild laugh as he takes such a jarring turn that your shoulder slams against the car door. You toss him an angry glare, but Albatross is entirely unperturbed, doesn’t even notice as he lets out a whoop.

That side of the city. You hadn’t even noticed while in the meeting, sparing a glance back down at your phone. Dazai’s up in Tsuzuki-ku—all of the city is under the Port Mafia’s control, all of the city and well beyond, really, most of Japan is under the Port Mafia’s thumb, but the northern wards are frequently tested by lower-rung gangs hoping to try to sliver some of the Mafia’s heartland away from them. They always fail, but sometimes it can get messy, and recently, there’s been another making moves in Aoba-ku.

Your chest tightens in a way that it definitely shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time a wannabe rival to the Mafia targeted someone close to an executive to try to get their hands on one, and you hadn’t exactly been subtly approaching him that day at the library. Two years ago, an organization called the Serpent’s Tongue targeted a girl Chuuya’d been talking to trying to get him to turn himself in—a civilian girl, actually, one that he dragged into this life just like you’re unintentionally doing with Dazai. He turned himself over for her; they killed her anyway, and the whole organization paid for it with their lives. So did all of their families. You don’t think Chuuya’s ever gotten over it.

You’re not trying to start a gang war for a civilian that you’ve met a handful of times, but…

“Should we call for backup?” Albatross asks you, uncharacteristically serious, as the two of you draw closer to the location sent to you. “What if it’s a trap? That Yakuza syndicate’s been pretty active up here in Aoba and Tsuzuki,”

“No,” you say, because you’re not fucking calling in the Black Lizards for this civilian. That’ll make this a whole operation, and then Mori will find out, and then everything will go to shit. “... I’ll text Chuuya.”

You: Where you at? Chuuya: Checking in on the ports in Kanagawa. What’s up?

You: Be on standby?

Chuuya: ??? Ok. What’s going on?

You don’t respond, slipping your phone back into your pocket and resting your head on the window. If Chuuya’s at the ports in Kanagawa-ku, then it won’t take him more than three or four minutes with the Tainted Sorrow to get to your location. You don’t need him barreling over here now if this is something you can handle on your own. The less people that know about Dazai fucking Osamu, the better.

“Uhhh,” Albatross begins. “I don’t think your boy’s in trouble, doll.”

Instantly, your blood pressure spikes.

You follow Albatross’s gaze to where he’s looking at a strip of shops, pulling to a stop in front of an affordable men’s warehouse. You stare blankly. Albatross looks like he’s about to start laughing.

“I’m going to kill him,” you breathe out, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut so hard that you hear Albatross cursing at you from inside, even when you get all the way to the door of the store.

Your phone is buzzing incessantly, so you pull it out before you go into the building.

Chuuya: Hello?? What’s happening? Where are you? 

Bitterly, you type out a response.

You: Forget it. False alarm.

As soon as you open the door, you’re met with the overwhelming scent of shoe polish and cheap dye. A store attendant comes up to you to ask if you need help with anything, but you’ve already spotted Dazai in the back, looking lost as his eyes card between three black suits.

“You,” you spit out loud enough to get his attention. Dazai’s eyes widen as he looks up at you. “You have some nerve.”

“Bella.” Dazai ignores your ire, a smile lighting up his face. “You came!” 

“You said help,” you accuse angrily. “You said help and sent me a location with no explanation.”

“I do need help,” Dazai pouts. “I don’t know anything about suits. You wear such nice ones all the time, I figure you can help me pick one out.”

“Do I look like a goddamn stylist, Dazai?” You raise your voice, livid, blood still running hot from the panic you felt when you saw the text, how you’d exposed yourself in front of Mori, from the anxiety of trying to figure out if you needed to bring in the Black Lizards if this was a trap.

Dazai draws back a bit now as if only just realizing that you’re genuinely pissed, and you think you should take your gun and stick it in your own mouth because why are you feeling guilty when he’s the one in the wrong? You haven’t felt guilty for anything a day in your fucking life.

A sick part of you that you want to carve out and throw away defends him. How is he supposed to know the implications of what those messages could mean to someone like you? He’s a college student whose biggest problem of the day is working out the answers to his class assignments, and he has no idea who you are and what you do. He doesn’t know that the first thing that comes to your head is the sight of Chuuya’s girl’s head rolling on the fucking ground, watching him scream over her body. Doesn’t know that there are people out there with blood that runs as black as tar that are trying to hunt you down, would jump at the chance of any weakness to exploit.

You force yourself to calm down. You take a breath, take a step away, look up to the ceiling, and pray to a god you don’t believe in to give you the patience to get through this day.

“Well, since you’re here already…” Dazai tries, giving you a sweet smile and batting his long lashes.

Your eye twitches.

You drag your gaze from his face to the three suits he’s considering. Your lip curls up a bit in disfavor as you reach out to pinch the material between your fingers—it’s stiff and scratchy to the touch, surely uncomfortable to wear.

“What do you need this for?” you finally ask, glancing at him.

“I’m going on a date,” Dazai says proudly. You snort and look him over once. His jaw drops in offense, “That was so rude, what does that mean?”

“What do you really need it for?” you ask dryly. 

Dazai withers, shoulders slumping. “My journalist professor is having me attend some event with him. Told me to get something nice to wear so I don’t look out of place.”

“And you think this will do the job?” you ask distastefully. “This looks like something a high schooler would wear to a school dance.”

Dazai looks helplessly at the suit you’re judging. “How can you tell?” he whines. “It’s just a suit.”

“The material and the color. It’s washed out.”

“Why are rich people so pretentious?” Dazai mutters, more to himself than you, and you raise your eyebrows as you watch him pout, clearly taking in the differences between the suit he picked out and the one you’re wearing. Still, he continues bitterly, “It’s just a suit.”

“You’re going with a journalist. He’s going to want you to blend in so people aren’t careful about what they say around you,” you note offhandedly, tilting your head to the side as you look over him. “The more you dress like them, the less likely they’ll be to notice you and the looser their lips will be.”

This is your field of expertise, you learned all of this when you were thirteen and fourteen, just learning the ropes of mafia politics. The first lesson you learned was that of the importance of being able to camouflage yourself in any crowd—the importance of not only acting and sounding like you belong but looking like you belong. If one thing is even a little off, you’ll be sniffed out by bloodhounds. You don’t even notice how you’re absently lecturing him on it until you catch sight of him from the corner of your eye.

Dazai’s looking at you, curious and taking in your words. You don’t like the sudden intense attention from him, so against better judgment, you sigh and change the subject. 

“Come on,” you say. “I’ll take you somewhere else.”

Dazai’s mouth is dry as he trails after you into a luxury boutique in Nishi-ku. Everything about the place makes him feel uncomfortable and sorely out of place, from the way even the store attendants are dressed in suits that Dazai couldn’t dream of affording to the way he catches them casting looks toward one another as their eyes drift between you and Dazai.

“Yeah, uh, maybe we should go back to that warehouse? I can’t afford this,” Dazai says hesitantly, nearly tripping over a stand because he isn’t paying attention to where he’s walking.

“Obviously,” you say flatly, and Dazai would feel offended, but when he tries to peek around for the price on one of the suits near him, he finds, to his mortification, that there’s not even a price tag to look at. “Kido-san, can you get the backroom set up to take his measurements?”

Measurements, Dazai mouths to himself, feeling a bit lost.

An older man, who must be Kido, nods his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, hime.”

Dazai’s head snaps to the side, watching as your eye seems to twitch at the honorific. 

“Hime?” Dazai whispers urgently, growing more confused by the second. He thought he had a general idea of who you are but finds that every meeting with you leaves him more and more bewildered.

“Don’t call me that,” you scowl before turning to look at him. 

Dazai feels strangely seen under your stare, shifting on his feet from side to side as your gaze trails down from his face to his waist. You squint and then reach out, pinch the fabric of his cotton shirt, and pull it to the side; Dazai bites back a surprised yelp, which you seem to catch from how you give him a distinctly unimpressed look.

“I-” Dazai starts to say, but he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, so he just trails off awkwardly. 

You don’t seem to notice either way because whatever you’re looking for, you seem to have found, letting out a pleased hum as you make your way to the back of the store, leaving him alone with two female store attendants who are observing him like he’s some unknown specimen.

“So, how do you know her?” One finally approaches him with an excited gleam in her eyes, eager for some gossip. “Hime has never brought anyone to us before, not even Nakahara-sama.”

Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. Partially because he’s still caught on the way they address you as hime and partially because he’s caught on whoever ‘Nakahara-sama’ is and why they’re so impressed that you brought him here and not them. He feels smug about it, actually, so smug that he entirely forgets to respond until the woman draws back.

“Oh! We won’t tell anyone,” the woman rushes out, shaking her head as if thinking that’s why Dazai isn’t answering her question. “We have a completely confidential policy with our clients, and hime is our most important. We wouldn’t ever risk betraying her trust.”

Dazai’s mind is whirling, trying to store all of the information he’s receiving so he can put it down in his notebook when he gets home. Hime, the reverence in the store attendants’ voices when they talk about you, going to a boutique with a confidentiality policy… that’s all a bit weird, isn’t it? Dazai isn’t sure—rich people are weird in general, maybe it’s not unheard of for high-end boutiques like this to have policies in place in case clients come in and have to talk about their business. Nobody would want to go somewhere where attendants leak trade secrets for a quick buck. 

Hime, though, why-

“Stop badgering him.” Your voice rings through the small boutique as you step out from the backroom, arms folded across your chest as you give the two attendants a sharp look. “Dazai, come.”

Dazai feels like you’re treating him like a pet dog, but he does dutifully follow after you. You motion to a pedestal in the middle of the room and Dazai makes his way over to it, feeling a bit embarrassed as he stands on top of it. You lean against the wall, and Dazai isn’t really sure what to do when Kido waddles over with a measuring tape, so he holds his arms out.

You instantly snort and look away, Kido flattens his lips.

Dazai is embarrassed, but lowers his arms.

“Take off your clothes, Dazai-sama,” the older man snaps his fingers together.

Dazai freezes, hardly even taking note of the honorific because he’s mortified by what’s being requested of him. He does not want to do that because he doesn’t want you to see that he covers his whole body with bandages. He’s had more than enough people see the bandages and immediately cringe away, imagining what monstrosity must lie beneath them for Dazai to hardly even allow an inch of visible skin. Sensing his discomfort, he watches your eyes track down to the bandages peeking over his collar and sleeves, and then you pointedly turn around to face the wall, sighing as you pull out your phone.

Dazai’s lips part a bit in shock, not expecting you to immediately recognize the issue and move to try to fix it. He thinks maybe only one person ever in his life has been able to read him so easily, and he’s been gone for four years. 

For the first time since Odasaku’s death, Dazai feels like someone is actually seeing him.

“Shirt, Dazai-sama,” Kido urges impatiently, and Dazai swallows thickly as he pulls off his sweater, noticing the man pause when he sees the bandages wrapped around Dazai’s whole torso and chest.

“I don’t ever go without them,” Dazai says awkwardly, “I-”

“Take the measurements as is, Kido-san,” you say sharply from where you’re still facing the wall.

Kido doesn’t argue with you, immediately getting to work on measuring Dazai’s waist and hips. As he does, Dazai feels particularly uncomfortable with you still standing there facing the wall, so he finds himself talking.

“The day we met at the cafe, I was going to a poetry workshop,” he says suddenly. “For uni. It’s one of my classes this semester.”

“Yeah?” you ask, and Dazai is almost surprised that you’re indulging his conversation, a stupid smile twitching on his lips. “What’d they have you doing?”

“Our professor had us write free-verse,” Dazai continues, fingers thrumming against his thigh as he speaks—a nervous habit that he can’t seem to break. Kido slaps his hand to get him to stop when it messes up the measurement of his hips, and Dazai promptly stills. “I prefer free verse. It’s my favorite style of poetry.”

Dazai doesn’t really know why he’s rambling about this, but he can’t seem to shut himself up. He can feel his cheeks getting hot, realizing this probably isn’t a conversation you’d be interested in partaking in, and just as he’s about to awkwardly change the subject, you speak up.

“… I prefer sonnets,” you tell him after a few moments of silence.

“You read poetry?” Dazai asks, a bit too doubtfully, from the way you click your tongue in irritation.

“Not often. I don’t have the time for it, but I am not uncultured,” you say, and Dazai smiles a bit—he can practically see the scowl that’s on your face. “Il Canzoniere. Francis Petrarch. That’s my favorite.”

Dazai tilts his head to the side, considering you in a new light. “Huh,” he says more to himself than you. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Put your shirt back on and remove your pants, Dazai-sama,” Kido orders and Dazai nearly jumps, almost having forgotten about the man in his conversation with you. Dazai quickly does as asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable standing there in his briefs with his bandages wrapped around his legs. “I’ll be quick.”

“Why is Il Canzoniere your favorite?” Dazai asks curiously when Kido gets to work measuring each of Dazai’s thighs and calves.

You hum to yourself and then answer, “I think the Petrarchan view of love is very… accurate. How it’s so coveted despite how painful it may be. Among all of his other ideas, of course, but that I think is the most meaningful to me.”

Dazai’s lips part to respond, but for a second, no words leave them. Finally, he clears his throat and forces out, “Yeah… Yeah, I agree with that, too.”

“You’ve read?” you ask.

“Of course, I’ve read.” Dazai is almost offended by the question. “It’s Petrarch.”

“Have you really read it, though? The translations don’t do it justice.”

Dazai blinks. “You can speak Italian?” 

“Several languages,” you drawl, as if it’s nothing. “Useful for business.”

Before Dazai can respond, Kido rises to his feet and motions for Dazai to pull back up his pants, noting down the measurements on his pad. “The rest I can do with your clothes on. You’re free to turn back around, hime.”

You do, and Dazai’s breath hitches at the unreadable expression on your face as you lean back against the wall and look over him. “What made you choose to go into English? Not exactly a useful major unless you plan on going into law or publishing.”

Oh. Dazai hesitates, throat bobbing as he swallows, lashes fluttering as he averts his gaze down toward the floor. “My friend… he passed away a few years ago. Right before I was about to enter college, actually. He asked me to finish his book for him—I told him I don’t know anything about writing and that it’ll turn out bad if he had me do it, but he insisted… and I mean, I can’t really say no to my dying best friend, can I?”

He thinks this might be the first time he’s talked about Odasaku out loud since his death. He didn’t go to the funeral, hasn’t talked to Ango since it all happened. He’s emotionally isolated himself from everyone for years, and Dazai is feeling more than a little vulnerable because he doesn’t even know why he’s telling you all of this. He just can’t seem to shut his mouth.

“I think you’ll do it justice,” you tell him after a few moments of silence.

Dazai looks up at you, dark eyes wide and imploring. He searches your face to see if you’re just fucking with him but only finds sincerity—you immediately look away, focusing on the wall instead. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he’s positively vibrating at your words until Kido lets out a heavy sigh.

“Dazai-sama, please stop moving so much.”

Dazai stills immediately and instead focuses on trying to help Kido finish up the measurements as quickly as possible. Dazai’s only been to this part of Nishi-ku a handful of times, but if he remembers correctly, there’s a cafe two blocks down, and this is his chance. 

This is his chance to ask you on a date. He has to take it. He hasn’t felt this giddy, this happy, this hopeful since before he lost Odasaku. Dazai hasn’t looked forward to the future like this in years, just surviving each day, wishing each passing one was his last, but not wanting to disappoint Odasaku by not fulfilling his last request. He’d been at his breaking point that day at the bar, but then he met you.

Then he met you. And yeah, you hadn’t shown much interest in him that night. Not at all, actually, but Dazai had never been drawn to someone like he’d been drawn to you before in his entire life. He’d known something was there, even if that did make him a little delusional. His heartbeat is erratic in his chest, and he’s clumsily trying to help speed things up, but he thinks he might be doing more harm than help. 

When Dazai looks over to you again, he finds himself flustered by the expression on your face. Your head is tilted to the side as you observe him, lips curved up, and a look in your eyes that can only be described as fondness. You don’t notice that he caught you staring, so Dazai tries to burn this image in his head as quickly as he can. He’s used to contemptuous, judgmental looks, he doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him so affectionately before. It makes him feel warm, like he’s someone who’s capable of being loved. 

The look disappears as soon as you realize he caught you—Dazai misses it instantly. He watches instead as a flurry of conflicted emotions crosses over your face, and he wishes he could read your mind, know what you’re thinking, but he does know that he doesn’t like the painfully neutral expression that settles there, a dreadful feeling growing in his stomach that makes him feel as if something is wrong.

“Are you okay?” Dazai asks, trying to figure out what had changed so quickly.

You don’t respond to him—rather, you look at Kido instead, making his stomach drop.

“Is that all?” you finally ask as Kido rises to his feet.

“Yes, hime,” Kido tells you. “I’ve finished with the measurements.”

“Good,” you say, and then turn on your heel to leave without even sparing another glance toward Dazai. Caught off guard, he readjusts his shirt and nearly trips over his own feet, trying to rush after you. “When do you need this by, Dazai?”

Dazai doesn’t like the sudden distance in your tone, a far cry from the easy conversation the two of you had just been holding, but he forces himself to respond. “Uh, by the end of the month, I think?”

“Kido-san will have it done for you by the end of the week,” you say, tapping something into your phone, hardly paying attention to him. “Come back and pick it up then. Charge it to my card when you’ve figured out the pricing for it, yeah?” 

“Of course, hime,” Kido agrees and Dazai feels a bit unsettled.

“You’ll come with me to pick it up, bella?” he prods, nudging your shoulder and trying to peek over to see what you’re typing, trying to figure out if something is wrong, if he’d done something to cause the abrupt change in attitude or if you’d gotten a text about work or something instead. He feels a bit nervous, his tongue swollen in his mouth, watching you carefully.

You stare at him, and for a terrible, terrible second, Dazai thinks you’re about to tell him no. But then the tension in your brows disappears, letting out a soft puff of air as your expression smoothes out.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Yeah, I will.”

When Dazai smiles, feeling light and relieved, hopeful that maybe for the first time since Odasaku’s death, he won’t have to be alone, he misses the way your expression drops as you look away from him. 

“This needs to stop.”

You stiffen at the sound of Chuuya’s familiar voice coming from the door of your bedroom, your shirt half-unbuttoned as you get ready for bed. You raise your eyebrows, turning to look at him over your shoulder, a bit thrown off because you hadn’t even heard the elevator come up to your room.

“Please, enlighten me as to what has you so worked up that you’re barging into my bedroom while I’m half-dressed,” you say dryly, giving Chuuya a cool look as you turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest.

Chuuya looks uncharacteristically angry at you, lips curled down, eyes cold. It almost makes you draw back, mind racing to try to figure out what you might’ve done to piss him off. You can’t remember the last time he’s been mad at you like this—you’re not sure if he ever has been.

“Dazai Osamu. Fourth year literature student at Yokohama National University. Graduated from Kanagawa Sohgoh High School four years ago. Currently living in building number 10511898050 in the residential area of Iwaicho in Hodogaya-ku, unit number 409. He has an eight am class Mondays and Wednesdays, a two pm class Tuesdays and Thursdays, a-”

“Enough,” you cut him off, voice clipped and heartbeat thudding in your ears as you stare at Chuuya, watching as he gives you a sharp look. 

“It took me less than ten minutes to get all of that information on him,” Chuuya says, voice low, “and no, I didn’t have Albatross help me. What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say, jaw tight. “He’s just some random fucking kid who I bumped into once and won’t leave me alone now, that’s-”

That’s a lie, you know it, and evidently, Chuuya knows it too from how he scoffs at you and shakes his head. Your expression twists, throat spasming as you swallow. You’d known you were in trouble since you left the boutique—when you’d caught your gaze lingering on him as he fumbled to help Kido with the measurements, only making more work for the poor man, a warm feeling spreading through your chest when you saw how he gradually became more and more comfortable as you entertained his conversation, rambling about poetry and literature, the solemn look that crossed his face when he spoke about his friend.

“I think you’ll do it justice.”

You hadn’t even noticed the way you instinctively made an effort to reassure him, not until he looked back up at you and you saw the pretty flush spreading across his cheeks, gaze flitting to the ground, too flustered to meet your eyes. It’d been like someone tossed cold water right over you, drawing you from your thoughts and smacking you right back into reality.

You had every intention of rebuking him as soon as you finished finalizing the details of the order with Kido—you did. You were going to tell him not to contact you again, that if he did, you’d block his number. You were going to tell him to forget about you and go back to whatever he was doing before he met you that night at the bar—you were. But when he looked down at you through his lashes, unsure and hesitant, as if he knew what you were about to say to him but had the slimmest hope that maybe he was wrong, and-

And you couldn’t do it.

Fuck.

Who even are you anymore? You’re so bitter that you can taste it in your mouth, it’s an ugly and uncomfortable taste. You don’t even know where this is coming from—the reluctance to hurt this kid, the weakness. Because that’s what this is, it’s a weakness, one that you know better than anyone that people will exploit, and you are still putting him in danger.

“Yeah?” Chuuya lets out an unamused laugh, taking a step forward and pulling something out of his pocket. His gaze is challenging, and you have a pit in your stomach, one that tells you you’re not going to like whatever he’s about to say. “The fuck is this then, huh?” 

He slaps a copy of your own credit card transactions down into your hand. Your blood boils when you see the red circle around the recent payment you made to Kido; above that, the 50k yen wired to the new landlord of the complex.

“You’re going to get this fucking kid killed,” Chuuya tells you, leaning in close. “You must realize that by now. You’re going to get him killed. If I could get all of this information so easily, it’s only a matter of time before one of our enemies does. That syndicate in the northern wards. The Red Chamber. Cao Xueqin will have him chopped into pieces and send you on a fucking treasure hunt across the city to get all of his limbs together for a proper burial. And for what? You’re bored? Is that it? You’re gonna have this kid tortured to death because you’re bored?”

You don’t answer, glaring at him as you try to calm yourself down, but you’re unusually rattled by Chuuya’s words. You find your mouth dry, your fingers shaking in your pockets. The sharp, snide words you would usually smack him back with die on your tongue, and you feel like a fool staring at him.

Your lack of response seems to trigger some sort of realization in Chuuya and you watch as his eyes widen briefly, leaning back.

“You actually care about him,” he says quietly, and now he’s the one who looks uncertain, averting his gaze to the side as he thinks.

“No, I don’t,” you correct immediately, shaking your head. “I don’t, Chuuya.”

“You do,” Chuuya murmurs. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t continue this. Cut it loose now, before it gets any further, before you end up getting him killed.”

“I’m not you,” you spit out, a low blow, you know. To Chuuya’s credit, he doesn’t react beyond a sharp inhale, nostrils flaring briefly.

“No, you’re not,” he agrees. “I wouldn’t be so fucking stupid to make the same mistake twice.”

“That was your mistake,” you hiss. “Not mine.”

Chuuya laughs, a huff that’s more mocking than amused, as he takes a step away from you. You’d think you’d prefer anger or hate more than the thinly veiled pity within them now. 

“It’ll be your mistake too soon,” he warns, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he turns to leave. “You’re smarter than this.”

You are. You are smarter than this. You know this will turn out the same way it did with Chuuya. You can picture it sometimes. Dazai’s body in place of hers, bruised and beaten, lacerations lining his cold body and his head severed from his neck—a trophy to be taken by your enemies. His blood stains your hands and clothes, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw and no matter how many new outfits you buy. Whenever you look down, you see his blood dripping off of you.

“I’m not reaching out to him again,” you finally say, ignoring the way your chest tightens. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, Chuuya.”

Chuuya looks back at you, not even bothering to hide the pity this time. You have half a mind to slap it right off of his face.

“For your sake and his, I hope you don’t.”

“Dazai-kun, are you even paying attention?”

Dazai startles out of his own head, blinking rapidly as his gaze focuses on Professor Ui, who’s watching Dazai with a disapproving frown. Dazai gives the older man a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, Ui-sensei. I was distracted,” Dazai apologizes, glancing once more back down at his phone, smile softening a bit when he sees you read his messages complaining about such a late meeting on campus. You don’t respond, naturally, but Dazai can practically picture you rolling your eyes at him.

“Please focus,” Professor Ui says tightly. “It’s essential that you understand our plans going into this event. We have two weeks left to prepare.”

Dazai sighs as he puts his phone down, looking up at Professor Ui and the two other students who are going to be working this event with him, both of whom look irritated by Dazai’s lack of focus.

“The event we’ll be attending is going to be hosted at the Tocho for a special agency in Tokyo that handles violent crimes associated with criminal enterprises. They made huge progress in pushing the Scarlet Gang out of the Asakusa Ward—the government wants to celebrate them for it,” Professor Ui explains, for the second time clearly, seeing how the two other students share a look with one another. “The whole event is pretty much just a mask for Representatives and Councillors in the Diet to gather and advocate for and against a major military bill about to pass through the Lower House.”

Dazai can already feel himself losing focus again, itching to text you yet another update that you won’t respond to, but he knows you’ll read. He wonders what you’re doing right now—whatever rich people do at seven on a Thursday night, he supposes. Probably out drinking with people, he thinks, jealous that he’s stuck on campus getting the rundown on this stupid assignment. He pouts a bit to himself, wondering if you’re with other guys right now, listening to them ramble on in the same way Dazai did to you, but before his thoughts can spiral too much in that direction, Professor Ui clears his throat.

“Our goal during this event is to find viable proof to move forward with an exposé on a crime syndicate known as the Sun and Steel,” Professor Ui says, and Dazai suddenly straightens, interested in what his professor is saying. “We’ve received a tip that one of their executives is going to be attending this event under the pretense of being an interested party—invites have been sent out to a lot of major corporations who have stakes in the bill. We believe that the Sun and Steel is using a company called the Age of Blue as a front for its criminal activities—if we can find proof and expose them for what they are, it can be a major stepping stone to taking down some of the bigger organizations in Japan.”

“Ui-sensei,” Hinami says, leaning forward in her seat. “The government wouldn’t really let some mafias attend an event for an agency that’s dedicated to taking them down. That’s a bit…”

“Ironic,” Ayato snorts, folding his arms over his chest. “I mean, if there’s no proof of their front company being involved in shady shit—oh, uh, sorry, sensei—shady stuff, it’s not like they can just pick and choose which to invite. Or, well, they can, but it won’t be a good look.”

“Exactly,” Professor Ui says, “and the government can’t do anything about them until they have due cause.”

“That’s what we’re for,” Dazai notes, “... but why us? You’re an adjunct professor—work for Ivory Eagle, that newspaper company that everyone’s been talking about. You have a whole team, why do you need a bunch of college students?”

“Does it matter?” Ayato says with a sharp grin. “Imagine if we pull this off? Our careers would be set. We’d have helped with the takedown of a mafia.”

Dazai thinks it does matter, eyes settling on the unreadable expression on Professor Ui’s face. His two classmates might be giddy with anticipation over such a ‘cool’ assignment, but mafia business is dangerous. Dazai might be fond of the idea of death, but he’s got a final wish to fulfill before that—plus, the idea of being tortured to death isn’t exactly appealing to him. He’s not sure that it’s just a coincidence that Professor Ui chose three students who have no family to help with this assignment. Otsuka Ayato, a second-year student who was orphaned during the Dragon’s Head Conflict six years ago; Koda Hinami, a third-year student who's been in and out of the foster system since she was a baby; and Dazai, whose mother killed herself when he was seven and whose aunt abandoned him, whose only guardian died four years ago.

No one would come looking for any of them if things went poorly. 

“You won’t be in danger,” Professor Ui assures them. “Just think of it as a way to test your skill in information gathering while in a conversational setting—go in there, observe, make small talk, and see what you can find out. They’ll have their guard up around my fellow journalists and I, you three are new faces. All you’re going to do is go in there and talk. No danger.”

Dazai isn’t convinced.

“Ui-sensei, you said this is meant to be a stepping stone?” Hinami asks curiously, changing the subject before Dazai can press any further. “A stepping stone for who?”

Professor Ui smiles thinly. “The Port Mafia.”

[serosluv2]

★﹒₊‧types of crushees they are

sero hanta is very relaxed and composed around you in a big group but once y'all are alone or secluded in any way, boy is a mess. prays you don't try to talk to him bc he will not be able to respond or will say something totally irrelevant or odd in the conversation. hell then stay up at night thinking of how utterly STUPID what he said was. he thinks you guys are soulmates because you always run into each other at the most random times. coming back from the bathroom, walking back to the dorms after shower, in the kitchen, etc..

izuku midoriya thinks he's pretty lowkey. he has this idolized version of you in his head where he thinks your so cool and pretty (u are) that you couldn't possibly have any idea who he is. (like babe ur literally one of the top hero students, ik who u are) he becomes completely flabbergasted when you say his name or talk to him in any sense. baby will just stand there like "you know who i am?" kinda stalks you but he swears it isn't on purpose. he just knows what days you like to go to a certain cafe and study alone and what days you spend a little extra time in the library. if you work somewhere he'll definitely go on your shifts but will not at any cost interact with you other than maybe you taking his order or something. also when y'all do talk, he either doesn't say a single thing or talks a mile a minute.

i honestly do not think bakugou is meaner or nicer to you when he has a crush on you. actually no, he's nicer but he doesn't understand why his instinct is to do so. (in denial of his feelings 101) he isn't as observant as izuku but he still notices little things that you prob don't even notice abt yourself. he knows his whole personality is more of an acquired taste so to speak, so when he does something like yell or curse in your direction, he's looking to see what your reaction is. if you laugh, roll your eyes, jump, or just ignore it entirely. he doesn't actually do anything about all these observations until you guys are dating but that's a future bakugou problem.