#kouyosa

[autumnleaf1111]

🌈 Pride Month with the BSD Gang:

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Atsushi, nervously holding a tiny pride flag: Um…do I have to do something special for Pride?

Akutagawa: Yes. You must wear something that makes Mori cry and Dazai choke on his iced coffee.

Yosano passing by: So crop tops it is.

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Fukuzawa, reading a memo: Why is there a pride parade forming inside the office?”

Ranpo, wearing a bisexual flag as a cape: Because I’m gay, bored, and unsupervised.

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Mori, watching Kouyou and Yosano drunkenly slow dance at 2 PM: Why does Pride Month feel like a month-long wine aunt rave?

Fukuzawa, sipping tea: Because it is.

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Kyoka, holding up a rainbow knife: I made it gay.

Kenji: Can I eat it?

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Yosano, organizing a “Pride Month Wine & Violence Night”: Entry fee is either a confession or a bottle of wine.”

Kouyou: Or both. Be dramatic, darlings. It’s Pride.

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Fukuzawa: I’m too old for this rainbow foolishness.

Ranpo, wearing a rainbow cowboy hat: You literally married a man—the enemy—and then refused to sign the divorce papers because it ‘felt too final.’

Fukuzawa, turning his head away: ….What divorce papers

Ranpo: Don’t even—

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Mori: I signed up for the ‘Over 40 And Still Emotionally Repressed’ float in the parade. Want to join me?

Fukuzawa: We’re not even together.

Mori: You still wear my ring on a chain under your uniform.

Fukuzawa: …Shut up.

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Yosano: Why do Mori and Fukuzawa always stand next to each other at every pride event?

Kouyou: So they can say ‘I’m not here with him.’ Which is gay code for: ‘I’m in love with this man and have been for 20 years but won’t acknowledge it.’

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Kyouka, 14 years old and tired: Okay, someone kiss Poe in front of Ranpo and see what happens.

Tanizaki: What?

Kyouka: This is for science.

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Dazai wanting to cause some drama: Ranpo. If Poe kissed you right now, what would you do?

Ranpo, sipping soda: I dunno. Probably ask him to do it again?

Poe, crossing his arms: …sigh

Ranpo, suddenly blinking mid-sip: …Oh my god.

Entire ADA from behind the wall: FINALLY.

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Kenji (innocently): If you’re not divorced, does that mean you still kiss each other goodnight?

Kyoka (deadpan): Or do you choke each other out like foreplay?

Entire room:

absolute horrified silence.

Dazai: What the fuck….

Fukuzawa, blinking slowly: …We do neither.

Mori: Not anymore.

Tanizaki: Why did that somehow make it worse?

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Ranpo (writing on a whiteboard):

Alright, welcome to the Annual ‘How Will Soukoku Finally Confess?’ betting pool.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕤—

Yosano’s bet: During a mission. One of them gets mortally wounded, and the other screams something like ‘DON’T YOU DARE DIE BEFORE I TELL YOU I LOVE YOU, YOU DRAMATIC SHIT!’

Kouyou’s bet: During an argument. Dazai says something awful, Chuuya screams back, and then they kiss mid-yell because of course they do.

Tanizaki’s bet: They get drunk. One of them says ‘I used to love you, y’know?’ and the other says ‘Used to?’ and then boom—confession, followed by sobbing.

Tachihara’s bet: Chuuya’s choking Dazai out, and Dazai’s like ‘Harder, darling’ and Chuuya short circuits.

Atsushi’s bet (very nervous): I think… maybe Dazai thinks Chuuya died and confesses when it’s too late and then—he’s alive! Happy ending?

Akutagawa: That’s disgusting. I’m betting on Chuuya trying to kill himself. Dazai dragging him back. Calling him an idiot. They both cry. They both kiss.

Everyone: Jesus Christ, Akutagawa.

Yosano: Wait— Why Chuuya? Dazai is the suicidal one?

Akutagawa: At this point, I’m not sure he is. If he really was, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.

Everyone: ……

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Random homophobic NPC: What’s with all these rainbow flags? Sounds like a circus.

Atsushi (deadpan): If you find love to be a circus, I recommend staying out of the ring before you get trampled.

Akutagawa, somewhat impressed: Damn—

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Kyoka and Kenji’s Pride Month Commentary

Kenji: I don’t get why Pride Month needs so much drama. Isn’t love just love?

Kyoka: That’s the stupidest and smartest thing you’ve ever said. And also sweet.

Kenji, not understanding but is happy that he did something nice: Thanks!

♥︎✩⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎✩♥︎

Happy pride month yall

[sandias-things]

[nisemomo]

kouyou/yosano roleswap au!

kouyou managed to escape the port mafia, and is later recruited to the ada by ranpo and fukuzawa. yosano is the port mafias doctor, personally mentored by mori himself.

happy femslash february!

[sayonarayosanosensei]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

oh yeah i tried my hand at writing explict femslash

yosano/kouyou enemies sex ftw

[autumnleaf1111]

Soukoku: Chuuya sleeps curled tight like a fist—on his side, back to Dazai, muscles still braced for a fight he won’t admit is over. He always says he hates sharing a bed, says Dazai hogs the blankets, breathes too loud, takes up too much space. Dazai never argues. He just slides in behind him anyway, slow and careful, like Chuuya might vanish if he moves too fast.

He doesn’t touch him at first. Just lies there, watching the rise and fall of Chuuya’s shoulders, the way his fingers twitch like he’s dreaming of something he won’t talk about in the morning.

Eventually, Dazai reaches out—softly, deliberately—and places a hand on Chuuya’s waist. Chuuya flinches. Then exhales. And doesn’t move away. Dazai rests his forehead between Chuuya’s shoulder blades. “I’m still here,” he whispers. Though, to Dazai, he’s obviously awake, but Chuuya doesn’t answer, only his hand slowly reaches back, searching until it finds Dazai’s. He squeezes once.

It’s not forgiveness. It’s not surrender. But it’s something.

They fall asleep like that: backs pressed together, hands clasped behind them, too stubborn to face each other, too scared to let go.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Shin Soukoku: They don’t start out tangled. Akutagawa lies rigid on one side of the bed, as still and silent as a shadow, arms crossed like he’s bracing for something. Atsushi sleeps curled inward, facing the other way, hands fisted in the blanket like he’s afraid of taking up too much space.

But sometime in the quiet middle of the night—when nightmares slip through the cracks and old ghosts start whispering—Atsushi rolls over. He doesn’t think, doesn’t plan. He just reaches out. And Akutagawa, half-awake and blinking slowly, lets him.

Atsushi’s arm loops loosely around Akutagawa’s waist. Not tight. Not forceful. Just there.

Akutagawa doesn’t move for a long time. Then, slowly, carefully, he turns into the touch, resting his forehead against Atsushi’s chest. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to.

Atsushi’s breath evens out. His hand settles at the nape of Akutagawa’s neck, grounding and gentle.

In the morning, they’re back to their usual standoff—sniping, scoffing, pretending last night never happened.

But every so often, it’s done again.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

RanPoe: Ranpo sprawls out like a starfish, limbs everywhere, blanket half on the floor. He insists he “needs space to think clearly” even in his sleep—though somehow, one of his legs always ends up tangled with Poe’s.

Poe, on the other hand, sleeps curled on his side, clutching a pillow at first… until Ranpo mumbles something in his sleep and unconsciously scoots closer. Poe slowly, carefully, replaces the pillow with Ranpo himself. One arm slides around Ranpo’s waist, and he buries his face in Ranpo’s shoulder with a quiet sigh.

Ranpo doesn’t wake, but leans into the touch anyway. In the morning, he claims he doesn’t remember any of it. Poe knows he’s lying. Ranpo never accidentally holds someone’s hand all night.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

FukuMori: They sleep like the aftermath of a war neither of them will admit they lost. Mori always falls asleep on his side, facing Fukuzawa, one hand resting near—not touching—his. It’s calculated closeness, like he’s giving Fukuzawa the choice to take it or not.

Fukuzawa never does.

Instead, when Mori’s breathing evens out, Fukuzawa turns slightly toward him and places a hand over Mori’s, just enough contact to say I’m here without saying I miss you. They never fall asleep at the same time.

One always watches the other. Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s caution. Maybe it’s regret. But in the silent hours of the night, beneath decades of unspoken things, they always end up facing each other—just not close enough for old wounds to reopen. Not far enough for them to heal, either.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

KouYosa: They sleep like queens who’ve finally taken off their crowns.

Yosano is the first to drop into bed—usually after kicking off her shoes and sighing dramatically about men, murder, or migraines. She sleeps on her back, one arm thrown across her eyes, the other reaching blindly for Kouyou. Always reaching. Always finding. Kouyou, ever composed, takes her time—removing earrings, brushing her hair, setting down a cup of tea she never finishes. Then she slips beneath the covers and tucks herself against Yosano’s side with a grace only she could make look effortless.

Their fingers intertwine without thought. Yosano shifts so Kouyou can rest her head on her shoulder. Kouyou hums something soft and old against her collarbone.

They don’t speak.

They don’t need to.

The scent of lavender hangs in the air between them. In sleep, their walls come down—lace and steel, velvet and blades—and what’s left is warm, tired love wrapped in silk sheets and sharp edges dulled by time.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

SueGiku:

They sleep like opposites orbiting the same quiet gravity.

Tecchou lies on his back, perfectly still, like he’s standing at attention even in sleep. He doesn’t need much—just to know Jouno is close. That’s enough. Jouno, meanwhile, is anything but still. He moves constantly, even in dreams—reaching, shifting, testing the air. He never says it, but he sleeps better when Tecchou’s heartbeat is within earshot.

Eventually, Jouno settles sprawled across Tecchou’s chest, head tucked beneath his chin, legs tangled lazily over Tecchou’s. His fingers drift over Tecchou’s uniform shirt—feeling seams, buttons, breathing him in. It’s grounding. Irritating, he says when asked. Necessary, he never admits.

Tecchou doesn’t move. Doesn’t complain. He only wraps one arm around Jouno’s waist and rests the other on the small of his back, anchoring him without caging him.

Sometimes, in that strange space before sleep, Jouno murmurs something indecipherable. Tecchou always answers, even if it’s just his name, spoken like a promise:

“I’m here, Jouno.”

And that’s all he ever needs to say.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

FyoLai: They sleep in a delicate, unsettling balance — two predators resting in the same den, each aware of the other’s presence yet daring not to make a move.

Fyodor lies curled on his side, eyes closed but twitching with the shadows of distant schemes even in sleep. His hands rest loosely on his chest, fingers occasionally twitching as if manipulating invisible threads.

Nikolai stretches out, taking up more space, back turned to Fyodor but always close enough to feel the subtle rise and fall of his breath. One of Nikolai’s arms snakes silently around Fyodor’s waist in the dark, a quiet claim neither fully acknowledges.

Fyodor lets himself relax against the touch for moments at a time, a rare softness flickering beneath his cold exterior. Nikolai’s fingers trace abstract patterns on Fyodor’s side — part reassurance, part silent calculation.

Neither speaks. Neither moves much. But in that fragile stillness, their complicated dance of trust and rivalry finds a rare truce, woven quietly through the night.

[autumnleaf1111]

Tries to find non cliche BSD fanfic ideas

Me: that’s boring— That’s stupid— That’s too gross— That’s too annoying—

Goes and writes a cliche anyway and has fun and actually feels good about a story for once

“ThIs Is SuCh A cLiChE”

Me: SHUT UP KAREN! ITS A CLICHE I LOVE!!!!

[autumnleaf1111]

HAPPY PRIDE MOTHER FUCKERS!!!

Shout out to my favorite non canon homosexual characters who are obviously faggots!!!!!

Soukoku

Shin Soukoku

FukuMori

SueGiku

RanPoe

TaniTachi

HiguGin

KouYosa

FyoLai

[autumnleaf1111]