Dazai Pissed Chuuya Off Again (the Little Girl's Name Is Yūko If Anyone Wants To Know

I smiled like an idiot during my class when I saw this notification come through

Lovely, again 10/10

Another idea, 15!Chuuya who just joined the Port Mafia having his first crush on reader

I can imagine him going to Kouyou to ask for advice 🤭

Like, reader likes him back but still lets him stumble over his words cause it's cute

I feel like I'm not as good at writing Chuuya so I enjoy reading fics for him and you're good at writing him

Man i love your ideas sm and thanks for the compliment!

15!Chuuya x reader

“Beneath the Surface”

Chuuya Nakahara wasn’t new to fights. He wasn’t new to blood, danger, or the haunting, suffocating feeling of Corruption simmering beneath his skin, a constant reminder of the power he could barely control. But this? This was new. This twisting in his chest, this irritation crawling under his skin every time he looked at you. The way his pulse quickened, how his words fumbled out in a mess when you were near.

He had never felt this powerless before.

And the worst part? You seemed to enjoy it.

“Oi, Chuuya, you zoning out or what?” your voice cut through his thoughts like a blade, the familiar teasing lilt making his eye twitch.

The two of you were standing outside, waiting for orders after a routine mission. His heart was still thudding hard from the adrenaline, but the moment you leaned against the wall next to him, all nonchalant and relaxed, his throat went dry. You flashed him that infuriating grin, the one that sent his mind spinning for reasons he didn’t want to admit.

“Zoning out? I ain’t—” Chuuya cleared his throat, fighting to keep his voice steady, “I’m not zoning out. Maybe you’re the one who can’t stay focused.”

You chuckled softly, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “Is that so?”

Chuuya hated how easily you could make him feel small, like you saw right through him — like you knew what he was feeling before he could even make sense of it. And the worst part? You always seemed to enjoy teasing him, watching him stumble over his words or get flustered.

He should’ve been able to handle it. He was Chuuya Nakahara, damn it — future executive of the Port Mafia. But around you, he felt like he was all fists and rage, without the cool confidence he usually carried.

You shrugged casually, pushing yourself off the wall and stepping a little closer to him. “You sure? You’ve been pretty distracted lately. Almost like something’s on your mind.” There was that tone again, the one that hinted you knew. And damn it, you probably did.

He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on anything else. “There’s nothin’ on my mind, alright? You’re imagining things.”

But even he knew that wasn’t true.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

The crush had started small, barely noticeable at first. You were one of the few who treated him like he was your equal, despite him being new to the Mafia. You were sharp, quick with your words, and had a mind that could cut through even the thickest of tensions. Chuuya respected that. But at some point, the respect shifted, and he found himself watching you in ways he hadn’t before.

It was the way you laughed, soft but with an edge that always left him wondering what you were thinking. The way your smile, so full of mischief, made something twist uncomfortably in his chest. And the way you always seemed too calm — as if you never took anything seriously, and yet still managed to outsmart everyone around you.

One time, after a sparring match where he’d barely managed to keep his cool, you leaned over, offering him a hand with a smirk. “Good effort, Nakahara.”

His blood boiled at the patronizing tone. “Tch. I don’t need your pity.”

But your teasing grin never faltered. “Relax, Chuuya. You’ll get better.”

Better? The audacity. But his heart still raced from the lightness in your voice, from the way you spoke his name like it was some private joke only you understood.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Days passed, and the frustration gnawed at him. It wasn’t just your teasing that got to him anymore; it was everything about you. Your smirk, your laugh, the way you looked at him like he was both amusing and… something more. It was unbearable.

Chuuya prided himself on not needing help. But with you? He didn’t know what to do. How could he, when every time he tried to talk to you seriously, he ended up stumbling over his words like some awkward kid?

And so, in desperation — and no small amount of embarrassment — Chuuya found himself standing in front of Kouyou’s quarters, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The moonlight cast a soft glow over the hallway, and the sounds of the night echoed faintly in the distance.

Kouyou opened the door, raising a delicate eyebrow at the sight of him. “Chuuya. It’s late. What brings you here?”

Chuuya swallowed his pride, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I, uh… I need some advice.”

Kouyou’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Ah. I see.” She stepped aside, allowing him into the room. “Have a seat. This seems… personal.”

He scowled, feeling his face flush. “It’s not personal,” he lied. “It’s just—there’s someone, okay? Someone in the Mafia who keeps messing with me, and I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Kouyou folded her hands in her lap, regarding him with her usual calm gaze. “Messing with you, how?”

“They’re always teasing me,” Chuuya muttered, staring down at the floor, “and it’s like they know what I’m thinking before I even say it. It pisses me off.”

Kouyou chuckled softly. “And yet, you find yourself drawn to them, don’t you?”

Chuuya clenched his fists, frustrated. “Yeah, but it’s… different. I don’t get it. Why can’t I just talk to them like a normal person?”

Kouyou’s smile was gentle, almost amused. “You’ve never been one for subtlety, Chuuya. But from what you’ve described, it sounds like this person enjoys your company. Have you considered that their teasing might be… affectionate?”

Chuuya blinked, staring at her in disbelief. “Affectionate? You’re kidding, right? They’re always messing with me.”

Kouyou laughed softly, a sound that both soothed and irritated him. “Some people express their feelings through playfulness, especially when they know it affects the other person. It sounds to me like they enjoy seeing your reactions. And judging by how flustered you are, it’s working.”

Chuuya flushed a deeper red, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “So what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t just… I dunno, keep letting them mess with me.”

Kouyou’s expression softened. “Perhaps you should stop focusing on how to ‘win’ against them and instead consider how you truly feel. Do you want them to stop? Or is there something more?”

Chuuya went silent, Kouyou’s words echoing in his mind. Something more? He’d never considered it like that before. But maybe… maybe there was something more. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad after all.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Chuuya clenched his fists, struggling to steady his breath. The weight of Kouyou's advice pressed heavy on his chest. Now was the moment—he’d either crumble or finally get the words out.

“I-I’m not here to fight,” he muttered, his voice betraying him with a slight stutter. He winced internally at his own nerves.

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk deepening with that ever-present teasing glint in your eyes. “Oh? That’s a surprise. So what’s on your mind, Chuuya?”

His throat felt tight, but he pressed on, stepping closer, his heart thundering against his ribs. “You.” His voice cracked slightly, and he quickly clenched his jaw to steady himself. “Y-You’re always on my mind, dammit.”

The smirk on your lips softened, but the amusement never fully disappeared. You tilted your head, a playful flicker in your gaze. “Is that so? How bold of you.”

Chuuya’s cheeks flushed, his frustration mixing with embarrassment. Why was this so difficult? He was a Port Mafia member, strong, unshakable, and here he was fumbling over his words like an idiot. He took another step forward, his fists clenched tight by his sides.

“Yeah, i-it’s true. And I… I’m tired of you messing with me like I’m some joke,” he blurted out, his voice sharper than intended but laced with a vulnerability he couldn’t hide.

For a split second, your eyes widened, but then a soft, genuine laugh bubbled from your throat—completely different from the usual sarcastic tones you threw his way. “Chuuya, I wasn’t messing with you.”

His breath caught. You weren’t? All this time? He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but words failed him.

You slid off the railing, closing the distance between the two of you. “I was just waiting for you to figure it out,” you murmured, voice softer now, your teasing edge momentarily fading.

Chuuya’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as your words lingered in the air between you. His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out the world around him. He had been expecting rejection, or another round of teasing—but this? This left him speechless.

You took another step forward, and suddenly, you were closer than he’d ever imagined. Chuuya could feel the warmth radiating from you, and he was hyper-aware of every inch between you, vanishing rapidly.

He swallowed hard, but no words came. His mind raced, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull he felt towards you. “I—" he started, but before he could find his voice, your hand gently cupped his cheek.

Without giving him a chance to overthink, you leaned in, your lips brushing softly against his. The kiss was tentative at first, testing, but when you felt Chuuya’s hesitant but eager response, it deepened.

His hands, which had been hanging awkwardly at his sides, found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the world seemed to fade away. Every thought, every worry, melted under the warmth of the kiss. Chuuya’s pulse raced, but this time it wasn’t from nerves—it was from the overwhelming sensation of finally having what he hadn’t even realized he’d been chasing for so long.

When you finally pulled back, the teasing smirk returned to your lips, but there was a softness in your eyes that made Chuuya’s chest tighten for a different reason now.

“So…” you whispered, voice just above a breath, “was that clear enough for you?”

Chuuya, still dazed, blinked, his usual bravado returning just a little. He huffed softly, trying and failing to suppress a small smile. “Y-Yeah… clear enough.”

For once, there were no words to stumble over, no need to fight back. Everything between you two was finally starting to fall into place.

Omg this took FOREVER

... they don't really know they exist, no

Why are you awake?

Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs

Ship: Soukoku - Dazai x Chuuya

Prompt:“Why are you awake?” “I could ask you the same thing.” 

TW: mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts/idealization, vague mentions of an eating disorder but not specified, self-deprecating thoughts  

A/N: Also posted on my ao3, you can find the link on my master list

After being together for a few months and going on cheesy expensive dates, at the expense of Chuuya’s wallet, Dazai moved in with Chuuya. And slowly, with Chuuya’s help, Dazai was getting better. He still slacked off at the office, primarily just to annoy Kunikida, but he was getting more sleep and Chuuya did his best to get Dazai to eat at least three times a day even if it was small; something was better than nothing, as Chuuya had put it. 

That doesn’t mean it always worked out, of course. There were still days when Dazai struggled to eat anything at all. And there were nights like tonight where, even within the comforting warmth of Chuuya’s arms, Dazai couldn’t seem to fall asleep. 

His thoughts were a little too loud tonight, it seemed. Normally, there would have been signs the previous days; signs of Dazai slipping back towards the darkness. However, this time, it seemed to come onto him suddenly, and worst of all, after Chuuya had already slipped into unconsciousness. And though Chuuya hadn’t said anything of work being tiring, Dazai could tell it had been tough. Nothing Chuuya couldn’t handle... but it certainly left him more exhausted than usual. 

Dazai would… feel bad, if he woke him up now. Chuuya did so much for him. He cooked for him, he made sure Dazai was showering, and even if Dazai couldn’t get himself to shower, Chuuya would take a bath with him to compromise. When Dazai felt disgusted by his own body, Chuuya was there to kiss every single inch of his body with affirmations pressed into his skin.  

And Dazai did what? What did he ever do for Chuuya? Nothing. All he ever did was burden Chuuya with all his emotional crap. 

So, no. No, he wasn’t going to wake up Chuuya for something he should be able to handle by himself. He had handled it for the four years he was gone, he could do it again. Although, handle was probably the wrong word. He handled it by ignoring it. He handled it with his… self destructive habits… 

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t ruin all of Chuuya’s hard work. Chuuya had kept him from harming himself since they got together almost a year ago now. 

Chuuya would surely be mad if he ruined it now. 

Dazai slipped himself out of Chuuya’s grasp and out of the covers of their bed. With silent steps, he made his way over to the balcony, swiftly opening the sliding door before closing it behind himself.  

He hissed as his bare feet hit the freezing ground of the balcony deck. It was the middle of the night, probably sometime around 2 or 3 in the morning by now, if Dazai had to guess. The autumn air was crisp and beginning to grow colder as the end of the year creeped up on them.  

Dazai breathed out softly, watching it fog up in the temperature difference. 

He leaned against the railing, watching the city lights of Yokohama at night below him. Every so often, a car would pass below and his eyes would subconsciously follow it into the distance.  

This did nothing to stop his racing mind, but made him far colder than he was before. He was tempted to retreat back into the comfort of Chuuya’s arms, but something kept him from doing so. 

He looked down. 

It was far. 

No human could possibly survive a fall that far. 

Chuuya could. 

Dazai couldn’t. 

His fingers twitched where they were on the railing. His hand closed around the railing. 

No. 

His hand shook, clasped around the freezing metal. 

His mind drowned out the sound of the city around him. 

His thoughts were screaming in his mind.  

It was loud, a cacophony of sounds. Thoughts. 

“Why are you awake?” 

Dazai’s eyes widen. His hand gripping even tighter around the metal. His body betrayed no other signs of his shock. He didn’t turn around. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“The bed grew cold without a certain clingy mackerel occupying the other side.” 

A soft sigh sounded behind him before warm hands found their way around his waist. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

“Yeah.” 

“If you’re not up to talk right now, that’s fine, but lets go back inside.” Chuuya spoke, his words pressed into Dazai’s back as a kiss accompanied them. “You’re shivering.” 

Was he? He hadn’t even noticed. 

He unclasped his hand from the freezing metal. 

Chuuya let his hands fall to his side and already Dazai missed their warmth. 

Dazai silently followed Chuuya inside. He slipped back under the covers, letting Chuuya close the door before joining him. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Dazai shifted closer to Chuuya, letting his head rest against Chuuya’s chest. He listened to Chuuya’s heartbeat for a moment as Chuuya’s arms wrapped around his waist.  

Dazai’s voice was quiet as he spoke into Chuuya’s chest. “Tomorrow?” 

He could feel the soft sigh that left Chuuya. “Tomorrow.” 

A hand left Dazai’s waist from under the covers to run though his hair. Dazai let out a soft, content, sigh at the fingers in his hair. 

“Try and get some sleep for me, ‘kay princess?” 

Dazai felt his cheeks heat up at the pet name, burying his face further into Chuuya’s chest in response. 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too, princess.” 

Dazai is a princess who loves to be spoiled rotten and no one can change my mind, and of course, who better than Chuuya to fulfill his need to be taken care of?

I'm going to ignore the fact that me writing Dazai being taken care of is just me coping 🙃

My cheeks hurt from smiling

I want to get in a little practice for writing Kiko (and also i can't get girl dad chuuya out of my head) so here's a little moment of her being a cutie, and a little bit of setting the scene for the big fic

Chuuya x f!Reader, nickname 'angel' used

Divider by @/cafekitsune

"Papa!" A little voice calls out, and Akutagawa will never get used to the way Chuuya's whole demeanour changes when his daughter appears. Both men turn towards the sound, Chuuya's arms already outstretched to catch the little girl barreling towards him. He's smiling, too, and if Akutagawa didn't know better, he would think Chuuya is just another loving father, not one of the most dangerous men in Yokohama. He's ... warmer, softer around the edges when he's with Kiko, and when he's with you - not that he lets many see that side of him.

Kiko throws herself into her fathers' arms, not a hint of hesitation on her face. Chuuya holds her close, cradling her against his body as he turns his attention to you, standing back and watching them with open adoration. Your eyes slide over to him next, and Akutagawa doesn't know what to do with the affection in the smile you send his way.

"Hey angel. Wasn't expecting you; is everything alright?" Akutagawa can see the slight tension in Chuuya's shoulders, and he sees it release when Kiko speaks up, still clinging to her father with one hand clutching his jacket.

"Me and Mama missed you!" Kiko learns around her father to shoot Akutagawa a toothy grin, "Ryuu-kun! See, Mama, I told you we would see him too!"

Your voice is fond as you answer her, and you check she's not looking before rolling your eyes, "Yes, you did, baby." You address him, amusement clear in your voice, "She was very excited to see you."

Punctuating her mother's statement, Kiko starts wriggling in her father's hold, and he sets her down, kissing the crown of her head when her feet are safely on the floor. Moments later, she's wrapped around Akutagawa's leg, talking a mile a minute about everything she's done since the last time she saw him. It's nice, he thinks as he listens to her - there's precious few people who don't treat him with caution, who look past his reputation and see him as more than a weapon.

"Akutagawa." He looks up at Chuuya's call of his name. There's a barely there smile on his face, "Go with them - make sure they're safe."

He knows what this is - Chuuya always makes sure the two of you are well guarded, but there's hardly a need for someone like him to accompany you. It's not like you're defenceless, and there's much better things he could be doing to benefit the Port Mafia. This is for him. He's not sure how he feels about it, but an executive is asking him to do something, so it's not like he can say no. He wouldn't anyway - he can admit to himself that he enjoys spending time with you, and the thought of disappointing Kiko and having her look up at him with big, tear-filled eyes makes him uncomfortable.

Kiko slips her little hand into his as Chuuya says his goodbyes to you; wrapping you in his arms and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips, whispering words for you alone into the space between you. The love between you is palpable, and he averts his eyes.

"Be good for your Mama, Kiko. I'll see you tonight; I love you." Chuuya crouches down to claim one final hug from the little girl. She leans into the hug, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek before pulling away and tugging Akutagawa down the corridor.

She waves behind her without looking, too focused on her next adventure, "I will, Papa! I love you."

The laughter from behind him suggests there will be no rescue from the four year old currently dragging him along, and he finds that he doesn't mind at all.

Shark Verlaine here we goooo

🦉

My partner critiques my fics in memes, I felt this on a very personal level.

Soukoku cats!

So I was bored and made this

So yesterday I was recalling a fanfic that had the Hanahaki disease in it while listening to the song "Killing Butterflies" by Lewis Blisset and had the thought of: 'What if it was butterflies instead of flowers' and so now this exists.

Now I present to you: Midnight thoughts with BLANK

Fictional disease like the Hanahaki disease. 

It's caused by a loss of love from a loved one(romantic love) like after a harsh breakup or intense argument. Instead of flowers its butterflies and they sprout(?) out of the infected face/body (usually face/ under eyes). The process of a butterfly leaving the body is slow (about 1 day) and so not that painful. The butterflies fly/stay around the infected until their death and then land on and around the body and die with them. The infected's hearing improves greatly, though this is more a curse than a blessing due to the constant flapping of the butterflies wings around them. Should the infected kill one of the butterfly while alive then another butterfly will sprout quickly (in seconds) to replace the dead one, this is painful due to the speed that it leaves the body. The butterflies are typically more on the red side but some are pink. The color of the butterflies is due to the fact that the butterflies are made of the infected's blood, meaning with every butterfly that sprouts the infected loses blood. The more butterflies there are the father along the disease is. The butterflies will continue to sprout until the infected dies, one of the only times a person can survive this is making up with their love. That being said the infected will probably not survive if they broke up. This disease only happens to those who still love their partner, so the other cure is the infected learning to move on. Although if it progresses for too long there is no reversing it. Its name? 

Killing Butterflies 

No shot I pulled three SSRs in one 11 pull followed by two of the new Dazai in a few 11 pulls later