hey taro-san!! i just wanted to check up on you!! i sent a request back in january i think but im not rushing you! I know writing is a side hobby and my request might have been a bit too complicated. and you’re usually quiet on tumblr so i just wanted to make sure you were okay ☺️
unless my request never even went through then ig i look like a fool🤷♀️
ah i’m really sorry!! i’ve been inactive for like. a good month bc my mental health has been in shambles but i’ll work on your request asap >:)) it might be a tad different from your actual request since i mostly try to draw inspiration from the requests instead of following them completely so i hope you understand if it comes out v different hhhh
hii!! ive never requested anything before ever so this is kinda like my test run hehe
but it’s okay if you don’t accept this one haha (it might be too specific wahh im sorry TT) i don’t want you to feel obliged or pressured to!
anyways, is it okay to ask for a female pronoun scenario (or head canons which ever you prefer) for a platonic relationship with atsushi (like a younger sister kind, but not that young, his age, only a bit younger) and slight dazai (romance/fluff)
they went to the orphanage together, but like she disappeared and then suddenly she appeared at the ada and dazai’s immediately smitten and atsushi is stuck cause he feels protective over her and cause it’s yk, it’s dazai so he doesn’t know what to do-
WAHH IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG OR IF YOU DONT LIKE IT I HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT
― ᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴs
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: dazai osamu x fem!reader, platonic!atsushi nakajima x fem!reader
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2366
ᴀ/ɴ: aaaa no no it's fine!! (u seem so nice im-) my first request!! this came really late and it's a little messy considering this jumps between different perspectives, and ultimately i think it came out a little different from what you might be expecting but i hope you like it nonetheless, anon!!
The moment you stepped through the doors of the armed detective agency office, Atsushi felt his lungs tighten. A flurry of white ran towards you and you stumbled to the ground, feeling the weight of someone over you and oh.
“Nakajima?”
You look up, not quite believing your ears. There he was, spiky ash gray hair cut by the cruel hands you couldn’t save him from, yellow eyes glistening, and that same soft voice that soothed you to sleep; that you missed so, so much. Your best friend.
“Hi,” you whispered, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes.
“Hi,” his voice quavered, before breaking into a smile.
For a while the two of you were on the floor, clinging onto each other with the love resembling that of a war soldier coming home to his wife, and while everyone else had gotten up from their seats to greet (or in kunikida’s case, scold atsushi for “making a ruckus in the middle of a professional workplace environment”) you, one man in a beige trenchcoat stayed frozen.
Dazai’s mind drew a blank. He blinked a little at the sight of his mentee clutching onto you, before his attention was drawn to you. Your messy hair framed your face as laughter, your laughter rang through the room.
For the rest of the day until the sun set and the cold midnight winds rattled his windows, it had remained so foreignly quiet, with nothing with your laugh, your smile, your crinkled eyes filling up his head until it spilled over the brim like a drink poured too quickly.
Blank. His mind had never blanked before.
Dazai threw himself onto his mattress, rendered sleepless for the rest of the night, thinking of nothing but you.
For the next few weeks, Atsushi had noticed a change within dazai. At first it had been subtle. To start, Dazai’s flirts with the maid every time he’d visit Cafe Uzumaki had drawn to a close. Then there was the undeniable fact that the stacks upon stacks of paperwork on his were decreasing. ‘A true miracle,’ Kunikida had said with a gaping mouth, looking impressed, surprised and concerned at the same time. Dazai’s grand, loud, and borderline performative actions seemed to wash away.
And then there were the flowers. Every morning when you get to your desk, there was always a flower in a small vase placed on your table, and so far, nobody knows when or who puts it there.
It’s another busy day of work. Sunlight streams through the windows onto the cream walls of the office, with only the quiet clicks of the computer and the sound of Ranpo munching away at another chemically processed bag of snacks breaking through the silence. Atsushi casts a quick glance towards you and sure enough, a single carnation, the shade of a soft pink with the edges of the petals seemingly seeped in sharp red sat.
‘That’s the fifth flower in a row,’ Atsushi thought to himself, biting his lip.
“Um,” He says finally. “Do you know who’s been bringing you flowers?”
“I’m not sure,” your fingers come to a stop as you look towards it. “But it’s kind of sweet.”
He nods, maybe a little too much, before looking back at his laptop. ‘She’s blushing.’ “Say, Where’s that idiot Dazai?” Kunikida questions, features darkening. Atsushi swears he sees storm clouds crackling with thunder above his head, and gulps. “He should be here by now.”
“I’ll go look for him,” Atsushi declares quickly, getting up from his seat.
The streets of yokohama are busy, to say the least. Clouds stretch across a bright sky, tall buildings with sea green glass panes that reflect the blazing light that shines off of it. People walk around, carrying suitcases or holding onto the hands of children with the sounds of traffic and bustle hanging in the air. It’s a shame Atsushi doesn’t have enough eyes or the time to appreciate all of it.
“Where would Dazai-san go－” his footsteps draw to a stop as his eyes widen. A familiar, lanky figure in a too-long coat is being handed a bundle of flowers, and dark eyes meet yellow ones.
“I don’t mean to… erm, intrude on your personal life, but do you… like her, Dazai-san?”
“You’re getting bold with asking questions, Atsushi-kun.” Dazai says, his shoes scraping against the concrete floor, shifting the bundle of blooms from one arm to another. Since when did flowers get so heavy?
“Well, okay, I’m cutting to the chase－are you planning on telling her?” Atsushi interrogates, his tone so bitter that it sends shivers up Dazai’s spine, and Dazai would have complimented him for achieving such an incredible feat if it weren’t for that look.
“...No,” Dazai admits, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking at the floor, except this seems to make his mentee even more tense. It’s oddly quiet for a while, but not the same as the silence they shared aboard the S.S. Zelda, when they had clinked tall glasses of champagne.
This was different.
“Do you like her, Atsushi?” he asks. It’d make sense for Atsushi to have a crush on you, especially considering your long past together, and how protective you are of each other, and just how kind you are. (Dazai is surprised to find that the idea of Atsushi and you holding hands and going on dates, being saps gives him a sharp pang in his chest.)
“What? No! She’s like a sister to me, why would I－no, it’s just...that…” Atsushi’s protests falter before his shoulders droop.
“Just what?”
“It’s not my place to say,” Atsushi shakes his head nervously. “But－”
“Butt?” Dazai smirks.
“Oh my god,” the teenager buries his face in his hands as Dazai snickers. ‘Nailed it,’ he thinks childishly.
Dazai soon finds that he regrets not having let Atsushi finish that sentence, because now a new found curiosity and something akin to dread was slowly building inside of him.
But what?
“Kunikida-kun. Kunikidaaaa. Kunikida, pleaseee－”
“What is it, Dazai?” The bespectacled man turns around in his seat, looking as furious as usual. “Stop distracting me from my work, I’m already two minutes behind－”
“Kunikida, can you tell me what’s wrong with me?” He asks, twirling a pen between his fingers.
“...what?”
“I’m making a list,” Dazai says.
“You refuse to do any work of your own, you constantly smell like pond water and sweat, you flirt with nearly every walking woman except that hasn’t been happening lately so that’s off the list, you’re ruthless, uncommitted, lazy, and－”
“Kunikida, that’s so mean!” Dazai whines dramatically, putting the back of his hand to his forehead like a fainting princess and tossing his pen to the side of the room. “I’m truly hurt! Oh, I’ll never recover!”
“－everything from your behaviour to your humor is a guise,” Kunikida finishes.
Dazai drops his hand from his head. “A guise?”
“Nothing feels real when you’re around. Everytime you say something genuine, you cover it up with a joke. You’re just being cowardly because there’s nothing you fear more than being open and getting turned away.”
“Why’d you ask? Hey, Dazai, are you okay?” The creases between Kunikida’s eyebrows folded as he watched his partner jump up from his seat.
“I’m quite alright, truly, now who’s next!” Dazai said aloud to nobody in particular, crossing out a line on his scrap of paper and walking out the door.
Kunikida fixed his eyes on the door, even after it slammed shut.
It’s the end of work. You roll your shoulders and you grimace as you hear a familiar creak in your bones, aching. It’s a strangely cold night, contrary to the sunny morning you only got to experience in doors. Your warm heavy fingers sting, the cold air hugging your stockings as you pick up the pace, wanting to head home as soon as possible.
“Wait up!”
There’s desperate footsteps behind you, ringing against the brick floor, and a familiar voice shouts out your name. Surely enough, you turn around and there he is, Dazai Osamu, his short locks bouncing off his shoulders through the light breezes.
“Dazai?”
“Hey,” he says once he catches up to you, barely panting. “Can’t leave a lady walking home alone, now can I?” he smirks.
You feel your face go hot against the biting cold. “I can take care of myself better than you can and you know it,” you smile.
“Ouch!”
You shake your head amused, as you walk besides each other. The streets are strangely empty, and you look up briefly to a starless sky and－ “Hey, look! It’s a full moon today,” you comment as you stop walking. Through the thin clouds, the moon hangs high. “It’s got a halo!”
“Yeah. It does,” Dazai lifts his head. “Hey, did you know that the halo we’re seeing right now is just created by clouds and light rays by the sun?”
“Really?”
“Eh, something like that, I’m not entirely sure about the specifics,” he shrugs. “Just something I remember from a book I read. Not even sure if the halo we’re seeing right now is the same as the one the book was referring to.”
The street lights are an old yellow, and the shadows twist as the two of you walk past. A chill runs down your neck as you shiver and Dazai turns to you. “...Cold?”
“Very,” you say as a fleeting cloud of warmth escapes your throat, and then you feel the weight around your shoulders. You look up at him, baffled, and sure enough, he’s taken off his signature coat, now draping around you.
“You’re going to catch a cold, Dazai!” You exclaim as concern floods your features.
“I’ll be fine, really! You’re so cute when you’re worried~” he gushes, obviously teasing.
“But…”
“I insist,” he smiles.
The coat does its job at warming you, smelling faintly of his cologne and something oddly salty (Probably sea water, you think). You’ve never seen him without his coat on, you notice as you glance at him. The ends of his bolo tie are waving against the breezes, and his hands are stuck in the pockets of his beige pants. Despite all of the street lights, his eyes remain as dark as the starless night.
Then you realise you don’t know where he goes when the day ends at the Detective Agency, or when his birthday is, or anything about him, really.
There’s pretty much nothing you know about him.
“What’s your favourite color?” You blurt suddenly, immediately regretting it as soon as the words escape your mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice how flustered you are, or at least he’s kind enough for once to not point it out as his eyes roll skyward, contemplating.
“Hm. I’ve never really thought about that. Yellow? The warm kind, not the green-ish kind, that’s gross. But not too bright, like an advertisement. Like a mustard, but… brighter,” he rambles, before turning to you. “My turn! What’s your favourite yellow flower?”
“Carnations, maybe?”
For a split second, you think you see Dazai pumping his fist celebratorily before he regains composure. “Really? What color?” he asks, seeming a lot more excited.
“Mm, red!”
“Yes! ” he grins widely. “I knew that was a good color to pick－oh. Wait, um,” he stops in his tracks, suddenly looking uncharacteristically awkward.
“So you really were the one putting flowers on my table! That’s kind of sweet, though I was getting sort of nervous as to who was giving them to me.”
“Do you think it was creepy? It wasn’t meant to be, I swear,” he panics, eyes widening slightly.
“No, it’s alright, I kind of knew by the sixth day, I was just waiting for you to tell me, actually,” you giggle as he groans dramatically. “Atsushi ended up telling me he found you at the flowers shop out of guilt.”
“Damn! I was trying to be so sneaky about it too and he just rats me out?” he moans into his hands, pouting and you swear he’s the only one who can pout as an adult and still look endearing. Maybe besides Ranpo.
He comes to a stop underneath a lamp post. “Hey.”
“Yeah?” You turn around, cocking your head.
“Do you like me?”
His eyes gaze into yours, like he’s searching through your soul for the answer.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” your confession slides off your tongue, and it comes easier than expected. His shoulders loosen. You raise your head from your shoes to look at him and he looks the most nervous you’ve ever seen him.
“I’m not exactly the best person to be in a relationship with. Obviously, and I haven’t exactly been told right out, but I’ve always known. I’m not responsible, you know that, and I...I don’t know if you’d want to stick around once you get to know me. Honestly, I was sort of hoping you’ll never get to, but… “
His hands are shaking, and he lifts his head up to face you, eyes filled with determination. “I want to try. I can’t promise I’ll get it right all the time, and I definitely don’t deserve this, but－”
Your mouth was soft, and you seemed to melt into him and the second he closed his eyes he couldn’t open them again. He wanted more. You were so warm and it was so cold－
“Your face is red,” you smile. He blinks. The kiss ended too quickly, he decided, like it took something from him, and he needed it back.
“It’s the cold,” he lies. You laugh, and he swears it's the nicest thing he’s ever heard as you lean in again.
“Yeah, okay,” you whisper, and your mouths fall together again.
The next morning when you walk through the doors of the Detective Agency, your hands are intertwined with Dazai’s as he complains about his clogged nose and his nasty cold, and sure, it’s like he said. He’s annoying, irresponsible and you know near to nothing about him, and you’re sure it’s nothing pretty.
But you have all the time in the world. And when he’s ready, he’ll tell you all about it.
okie it’s me who just requested that rlly long scenario with atsushi and dazai but it might be too long so a one-shot might be better but ALRBSKFK I DONT KNOW IM SORRY HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT
DFSALKSKDLJS NO NO ITS FINE!! aaaa my first request workin on it now i’ll do my best ٩(•̤̀ᵕ•̤́๑)ᵒᵏᵎᵎᵎᵎ
i’m probably not going to be able to get to requests right away since writing is just a side hobby i have other than digital art and also school is sort of a thing so please bear with me!
reguardless, if i don’t get to your request, please dont take it personal!
i mostly write for fem and or gender neutral readers
i don’t really write for character x character but i might be gettin into that
i write for bsd and haikyuu!! (might write for bnha & kny in the future so look out for that)
characters you can request for:
↳ haikyuu!!
hinata shouyo
kageyama tobio
tsukishima kei
yamaguchi tadashi
nishinoya yuu
yachi hitoka
sugawara koushi
kenma kodzume
sakusa kiyoomi
pretty much everyone except for the coaches
↳ bungou stray dogs
atsushi nakajima
dazai osamu
kunikida doppo
ranpo edogawa
RANPO EDOGAWA
edgar allen poe
mushitarou oguri,,,please send requests for him the lack of content for him is truly the perfect crime istg
hi!! i realised i haven’t made an intro,,,so uh call me izen/mushi!
— im a pisces born on march 8th!
— if u know me irl no you dont, block me, right now
— pronouns are she/her but hey refer to me as whatever
— i live in hk and i can understand cantonese and mandarin when spoken to but i suck at reading, writing and speaking the actual language ;-;
— please teach me how to ride the mtr, i still dont know how to use public transport and it is Becoming A Problem
— not to brag but like one could argue that i am a bigger paradox than the ship of fucking theseus i am constantly contradicting myself like ex. i am an introvert except i am overly loud in public settings but at the same time i hate public speaking even though i wouldn’t hesitate to start singing the song that never ends at full volume in the middle of school
— writing is just a side hobby that i want to start getting back into, hence this blog! don’t expect a lot from me though hsdnghf
— current interests are hq!! and bsd and i write for both of em!
Although you and Monoma clashed at night, you found solace through each other’s arms in the mornings.
pairing ⟶ monoma neito/ gn! reader
word count ⟶ 6.2k+ words
warnings ⟶ pro heroes, talks about suggestive stuff, domestic fluff, angst, monoma being an asshole for a min, oh my god they were quarantined
a/n ⟶ this is a collab for sof’s discord server crackhead sanctuary!! yes that is the real name!! it was supposed to be just fluffy quarantine shenanigans but i said fuck it let’s make this super long and add sad vibes. also s/o to the very, very few people who write monoma crumbs i see u
⟶ playlist; les matins by angèle, sunshine by kyle, 12:34 by billy lemos, cariños by the marías, yours by alina baraz
You’re in the middle of packing when you hear it.
“This means no traveling, no gatherings of more than six, and by any means, no leaving the house unless absolutely essential,” the newscaster reported on the television screen, a newscaster who interviewed you plenty of times.
Pausing, you take a look at the space around you. A modernist styled apartment in the middle of the city, certainly not your city and most definitely not your apartment. “I’m stuck here?”
Now, you wouldn’t be opposed to staying in such a lovely apartment for a few weeks, but the problem was that this wasn’t just anyone’s condo.
It was Monoma’s.
Truthfully, you and Monoma hated each other since the moment you met in high school. You’re hardly one for confrontation, opting to get through your time at U.A. as efficiently and simply as you possibly could for a hero student, but there was something about the pretentious way he spoke that burned bitter inside you. Apparently he felt the same way, because when he went on his rants targeting the class of 1-A, you always seemed to be the main character.
But something changed.
Something changed, and you can’t quite place your finger on it, but it did. Maybe it was all the times you got drunk together by your third-year and he was surprisingly pleasant to talk to. Maybe it was the way he gushed about his own classmates, because his hate of 1-A stems from his love for 1-B. Maybe it was the many, many instances he risked his own life to save yours, rendering you speechless at times.
Graduating, getting jobs, moving from Musutafu, you found that you didn’t hate each other completely. You worked together sometimes, made small talk at charities, and even had each other’s numbers. He even offered to let you stay at his apartment when you took up a mission in the city he lived in.
It by no means meant that you were particularly close. Years of resentment couldn’t be mended by happy birthday texts.
a quiet evening with your f/o. you’re curled up in an armchair with them, head resting on their shoulder. their arms circle you protectively. looking up, you meet their eyes, which are already softly gazing at you. you blush lightly as they study your features, their eyes glancing over your nose, your cheeks.
“you’re staring at me.” you say, reaching up and softly brushing your fingers across their cheek. they lean their head into your touch.
“just admiring the work of art in my arms.” they reply.
a/n: sure! i hope you guys enjoy! tsukishima is literally one of my favorite characters of all time so this was really fun!
[MISCHARACTERIZATIONS OF TSUKISHIMA KEI]
tsukishima kei.
toxic: tsukishima obviously has some serious trust issues, his brother lied to him for years and tsukshima only found out by accidently stumbling across it, and then proceeded to see his brother have a breakdown. since then he’s been emotionally closed-off to optimism because he knows how badly it can crash and burn. but this doesn’t make him toxic – he’s high caution when it comes to putting his passion into things and he finds it difficult to talk about his feelings because he’s never done it before. he doesn’t hurt people’s feelings on purpose (unless he’s teasing) – he genuinely doesn’t understand certain emotional cues or emotions because he finds it hard to let himself experience anything other than anticipation for the worst. what he needs is someone who’s patient and can encourage him to talk, not make him feel guilty for going through trauma!
naturally smart: i get where this is coming from – he’s in a high-placing class and is a pretty logical, calculating, and clever person, but when it comes to academics his smarts are part due to a lot of hard work. to tsukishima, he sees the majority of his value in academics. he’s not particularly good at volleyball, not particularly charismatic, not really model-mateiral (by his standards), so he sees himself in academics. so he works hard to get good grades, and honestly he likes to study. so, yes, he’s pretty smart naturally when it comes to (certain) things about people, and academically he has a good foundation, but you know he works his ass off on aesthetic notes to stay high-ranking. tsukishima is never more stressed than when he genuinely doesn’t understand something (which is part of the reason he’s not a people-person), it leaves him thinking he might not be as smart as he thought he was and he has a mini-spiral before giving in and asking yams for help.
doesn’t care: for most people, admittedly, he doesn’t care about how they think of him. he would prefer them not think of him as some dude who is only brains and no other skills, but if they do, it’ll only mildly irritate him. but when it comes to his close friends, he cares a lot about how they see and feel about him. he understands he’s nonchalant, even to those he loves, but he still wants them to know (without him telling them, of course) that he cares a lot about them. he cares if his best friends thinks he’s insensitive, he cares if his lover is getting annoyed with his indifference, he cares if he hurts his friends feelings, he’s just emotionally constipated. it’s hard for him to voice these feelings of his, so it just comes off as him seemingly not caring, but he cares a lot more than what he lets on. also, if he’s in a place where he knows no one, he likes to keep up the unbothered smart preppy guy façade because he thinks it makes him look cool, because he’s a little bit of a dork and the thought of being the good-looking guy in the room does stroke his ego a little.
unreactive: meaning people think he doesn’t have reactions to anything. this couldn’t be farther from the truth – have you seen how he reacts to other people’s stupidity? he can’t hide that emotion on his face even if he tried. when people think he’s just a normal guy he gets an attitude, when he’s in a good mood he laughs (though it’s usually at someone else’s expense), and when he’s annoyed or angry is shows in everything he does. someone once said that they were glad the dinosaurs when extinct because they were probably ugly and this boy sent them to their grave. he did not take their shit that day. not to mention this guy has a killer humor, he likes it when people laugh at what he says (yamaguchi always laughs at his jokes and it gives him a confidence boost), and he enjoys watching comedy specials. this guy may have had something traumatizing happen to him but that doesn’t mean that’s his only character trait, yall. tsukishima has likes and dislikes, past times, and – contrary to popular belief – experiences a range of emotions, including happiness!
confident: academically, maybe. yeah, tsukishima can do calculus. yeah, he can write a A+ paper in an hour. he’s confident in these skills because he’s honed them through hard-work and constant studying. but confidence when it comes to people is something completely different – he knows he’s not ugly, so he knows that a lot of people find him attractive, but that’s not what gives him confidence. there’s a reason why people like kageyama and hinata get on his nerves, they are so unapologetically open about what they like and what they’re passionate about, not caring if they fail. they’re confident in their hobbies, in their hard work. tsukishima, on the other hand? it’s hard to be confident in that sphere. it’s hard for him to say he almost didn’t finish the homework because he was on a Discovery Channel binge. it’s hard for him to show the sparkle in his eye when he’s in history class. he’ll truly be confident when he can express himself freely, without the concern of judgement from others. his confidence doesn’t come from being hot or insanely talented, it comes from being purely himself, and he’s not there yet. until he is, he fakes it with cockiness in his academic ability (but volleyball is helping him!).
overall: tsukshima has trauma that mainly affects his processing of emotions; he’s a work in progress. it takes a lot to get him to open up, friend or lover, but it’s gotten easier because his love for volleyball has helped him cope with his emotions and helped him filter his thoughts. he isn’t 100% confident in himself, yet, but he’s getting there. and if he’s being honest, he’s the happiest he’s ever been….and he’s optimistic about the future, for once.
they wrap your coat around your shoulders before you leave, making sure you’re warm enough. they still have messy hair from just waking up.
they forgot to tie their shoe, so you stop them after locking the door and tie it for them
you grab their hand and softly lace your fingers with theirs
the morning air is a little chilly, so you walk closer to your f/o, making sure to not trip over their feet
they chat about what they have to do that day, asking you what you want for dinner, etc. you listen, but also make an effort to step on every crunchy leaf on the sidewalk.
you walk through a trail in the park, and eventually stop to sit on a bench
your f/o leans over and presses a kiss to your temple, their breath warm
they lean back and rest their arm on the bench behind you, a small smile creeping across your face
the air has that crisp fall scent to it, and the golden light is peaceful.
Imagine cuddling with your F/O(s) on a rainy day. It’s morning, and you’re both still in bed. The skies are gray outside, and you can hear the rain falling outside. You and your F/O(s) lay there and relax in each others’ warmth, maybe sharing kisses every now and then. If there’s thunder and someone is scared of it, the other(s) will comfort them and make sure they know that they’re safe here. Even if there’s things to get done that day, this at least becomes one of the highlights and possibly something to look forward to coming back to.
yall just ever imagine the real mundane things with your f/o(s)? romantic or not just doing really simple things like for example cleaning?? do you both hate it and it takes forever to get done or do you make a whole day out of it and even have a cute playlist going to keep you moving and grooving? just simple, everyday things made better by your f/o(s) 🥺
Imagine you petting your f/os cheek gently with your thumb while also petting the top of their head. They're partially lying on you, their head on your chest and their arms wrapped around you. They feel safe, happy and loved. If your f/o is nonhuman, imagine how they purr and maybe even wiggle with their tail a little.
