"Maybe We Should Kill Ourselves, Hm?" The Voice Was Loud And Humorous, And Dazai Had Been Used To His

You're oblivious and Jinshi's an idiot | The Apothecary Diaries | Jinshi x reader

cw - gn but you're in the rear palace and maidservant is used a few times in reference to you and your job, brief mention of nail picking

You calmly sit beside the purple haired eunuch, feeling a little anxious at placing yourself in such a position. Sitting beside someone of higher rank is criminal, so nonchalantly taking up the same space as they are. Anxiously tapping your fingers against your thighs, hands resting politely in your lap and head turned down, you await his next words.

"You won't turn to me?" He seems slightly teasing, but you're too nervous to check.

Jinshi rests his elbow on top of the no doubt expensive wooden table, chin pillowed by his palm and keeping his head up. His second arm moves forward, hand lifting close to you. With careful movements, Jinshi's pointer finger brushes back a strand of loose hair, finger pad trailing down your jaw until it stops on your chin.

Still, you say nothing, body still and turned down. His pointer finger curls as it slides below your chin, pulling you to the side to look at him. An amused smile is on his lips - he was definitely teasing a moment ago - and a glimmer of affection softens his eyes. "You agreed to dinner, did you not?" He leans toward you ever so slightly, a barely imperceptible change.

"Yes, Master Jinshi," you reply obediently. Perhaps Maomao was busy with lady-in-waiting duties, you had originally thought, assuming that you were called in as a poison taster.

The lean toward you is much more apparent this time, Jinshi letting out a sigh just before doing it. He's a mere few inches from your shoulder, hand dropping from your face to grip the edge of your chair closest to him. "Then I don't understand why you seem so reserved. You're usually much more open and energetic with me."

Your lips part, about to reply with the first thought on your mind, before quickly closing your mouth. One, two, three seconds pass as you think of how to traverse the situation you've found yourself in.

"My apologies, sir,” you choose to reply, “I shouldn't have behaved so inappropriately before.” Each word is chosen with intention as you reply steadily. Is that why you've been called here? For your lax behavior around the rear palace manager?

Yes, you weren't great at maintaining a professional facade while with Jinshi. He could be childish and annoying, that's true, but more than anything you just enjoyed playing with his self-assured and flirtatious persona whenever possible. Light teasing tended to leave him speechless and you adored watching the gears turn in his brain. With certainty, you can say you’re the only maidservant to ever give back the same energy he put out.

Jinshi pulls back, staring at you with a frown as he sits properly in his seat. "That's not what you were going to say."

"No," you agree.

The frown turns to a more pronounced pout, bottom lip jutting out and eyes narrowing. He's acting childish again, something that usually makes you smile (knowing you’ve successfully pushed his buttons) but only serves to make you more nervous as you anxiously pinch the fabric of your attire between your fingers. It's a nervous habit you picked up after trying to stop yourself from picking at your fingernails, each of which are low and choppy even if you've been quite a few months free of the practice.

"What had you wanted to say?" He implores. It's cute, honestly - watching Jinshi stare at you so pleadingly as he tries to keep his voice steady. You glance around, wondering where Gaoshun has been this whole time.

"I want for nothing, Master," you reply uncharacteristically of yourself, the words sounding rehearsed even though you hadn't been expecting this exchange at all.

Join me for dinner, he'd ordered curtly. No other information, merely requesting your presence for the night before leaving. He'd seemed to be in a rush, slightly flustered as he disappeared - likely late for some work he was most assuredly pushing off at the time. You barely finished nodding before he fled the parlor you'd met him in.

"What if I ordered you to tell me?"

"Will you?"

Of course not, Jinshi wants to say, the thought manifesting as a solemn sigh as he looks away. His eyes focus on the large wooden doors ahead, hands tugging at the ends of his hair as he tries to understand where he went wrong. There was no bad blood between you two he had believed - no arguments or chastising or even the slightest criticism or critique.

“Do you even have to ask?" He ends up murmuring lowly. The purple haired man blinks slowly a few times before hearing you sigh to his right. Creaks fill the room as you undoubtedly reposition yourself on the chair he'd pulled over for you to sit in, the sound followed by you clearing your throat.

"What was it you had said? I'm normally more open with you? I was merely going to point out that I'm not normally sitting or standing so closely,” you decide to answer. "I'm never right beside you like this. Our current position only serves to remind me of my rank and where I stand in comparison. I have no right to be here; It's not right for me to be at the same side of the table as you. To be called here for business and then disrespect— "

"Business?" Jinshi cuts you off, eyebrows furrowing as he turns to you with a sincere frown. "Is that why you think I called you here?"

Nervousness shoots up your spine and crawls around your skin as you suddenly feel ruffled. Being made to look a fool isn't something you're unacquainted with being a maidservant, but for some reason, being doled out the same treatment by Jinshi specifically left you feeling embarrassed and flustered. You try to wrack your brain for not only a proper response, but a smart or witty one - yet nothing comes to mind. Without thinking, your fingers come together as you begin picking at the edges of your fingernails. Your sharp tongue has turned limp, feeling heavy in your mouth as you struggle to reply.

It seemed like all Jinshi could do now was frown, the slight flicker of his lips further down causing your breath to hitch. "I'm sorry. It seems I hadn't made my intentions clear," Jinshi pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling annoyed with himself more than anything.

Your sandbag tongue pushes your jaw down, mouth parting as you're about to tell him it's fine - even though you still aren't sure what's happening. Before you can, Jinshi continues: "How would you suggest I ask for someone's hand? I had thought my courting was obvious prior, but now I'm not so sure..."

Courting? In what world had the beautiful eunuch, heartthrob of the rear palace, been courting anyone let alone you? Dozens of admirers, even ones sworn to the emperor, had been clawing each other left and right for a sprinkle of his attention. You'd been able to cozy up to his side as a friend and useful asset inside the rear palace walls, but you never expressed the same adoration and devotion that other palace residents have.

At risk of sounding a little self-centered, you just need to clarify, "You don't mean my hand, surely..?"

Jinshi looks appalled, mouth agape and eyes wide. "Have I been that inconspicuous with my courting? I could've sworn the whole inner court could tell!" He lets out a groan, face falling onto the table in front of him. A loud bang sounds as his forehead lands on the wood harshly.

Have you been that obtuse? Combing through your mind, you recall each time you'd seen Jinshi while out and about, trying to discern if he'd honestly been too discreet or if you'd just managed to write it off. And... nothing comes to mind. Gaoshun had shown more interest in you than Jinshi had, the former always checking up on you and making sure you were alright. His presence held that of a father figure.

Speaking of, where had he run off to? It's rare for you to be completely alone with Jinshi, today marking the first of this occasion. And based on how this is turning out, likely the last as well.

Jinshi flops his head to the side, gazing up at you from the table. "Gaoshun said you took to the gifts I had him deliver," he says childishly, voice soft through his pursed lips as he pouts. "I tried not to express favoritism, as I know you don't enjoy attention from the other maidservants and the court ladies with their needless prying, so I had him drop off small snacks in my stead."

A glimmer shines in your eyes as it finally clicks together. Gaoshun had always been so discreet passing you small snacks every few days. You honestly hadn't thought too much of it outside of thanking him gently, having assumed the older man merely feared for your health on hotter days. It's likely he mentioned at some point that they're from Jinshi and you had simply missed it. Or maybe you were expected to just know..?

Jinshi grumbles, a low hum sounding more like a whine than a groan, before he sits upright in his chair once again. "So, do you not like me?" He asks timidly.

"No," you reply easily. His face falls at this, causing you to backtrack. "I-I mean no I do not not like you. I'm- I'm saying I like you!.. I mean, we're friends, right?"

He pouts childishly, turning away from you with a hmph! "You know that's not what I mean!" The purple haired man's arms are crossed and nose stuck up, body language as dramatic as can be.

Of course you know what he means, yet you can't help but feel unsure anyway. There's no way the Jinshi likes you - a simple laundry attendant who picks on him sometimes. Many girls throw themselves at his feet, so why would he settle for you?

"I think I'm just a little confused," you carefully pick your words. Besides, he's your employer; Is it wise for you to encourage his delusions? There's no way the two of you could have an actual relationship. "You seem to be implying you like me, and I'm unsure if that's your intention." Once more, you shift anxiously in your seat.

The eunuch groans loudly, clearly frustrated with your incessant dismissal of his feelings. "That is my intention, yes. You're welcome to say you don't feel the same, if that's how you feel. However, I'd still like the chance to court you and try to change your mind, if you're comfortable with it."

Flustered and overwhelmed, you shake your head. "Is this appropriate? Can someone in your position court a person so drastically beneath them? What if I fall out of line, wouldn't you still have to correct me?"

A smile tugs at Jinshi's lips for a mere moment before he turns away. "I'm not courting you as the manager of the rear palace. I'd like to court you as a friend, someone you've spent time with absent of titles. I'm not your immediate superior, anyway - those directly above you can issue orders as they see fit, though you've never been the type to step out of line. And, we both know you have only a few months left on your contract. I'm hoping to pin you down before you leave the palace and another man gets to you first."

Now it's your turn to pout, your own lips pursed and eyes narrow as you stare at him. "You enjoy making things difficult," you start. “I can't believe you're doing all this to me. On top of that, you of all people know I do enjoy testing these metaphorical lines,” the last sentence punctuated with a huff.

It's true; that's how Jinshi grew to enjoy your presence. During his time knowing you, you had never been afraid to give back the same energy you received, playing along with Jinshi regardless of positions. However, you've always had a keen sense for what is or isn't allowed around whom - knowing to act like the perfect maidservant around the eunuchs directly responsible for your field of servitude, but understanding even without much prior knowledge that Jinshi is the type to let you get away with a little more.

"Then let's test this one. Let's see if we can push the 'metaphorical line' of our relationship, from professional to romantic," Jinshi's eyes glimmer with hope, a confident grin on his face at what he deemed a perfect segue.

After an annoyed grumble full of incoherent words under your breath, you turn to him with an exasperated sigh. "Fine. I'll allow you to court me - or continue to, rather - during these few months. And once I've fulfilled my contract and am able to return home, we can discuss the idea of potentially changing the status of our relationship."

As you spoke, Jinshi couldn't stop himself from bouncing ever so slightly up and down on his seat, excited beyond all measure. His hand reaches out to you and you flinch, pulling back before he can.

"And only then, Master Jinshi," you add.

He can't even find it in him to be sad, too excited that you've promised him a chance. “Yes, perfect, it’s a deal. Easiest deal I've made in my life. Could I get it in writing?" He begins to ramble on, allowing you to zone out and watch for a moment.

In an attempt to shut him up, you hold out your hand and place it over his mouth. Jinshi has never portrayed himself as someone who detests his own voice, but this was more than you'd ever heard from the man. With a gentle grip, he peels your hand from his mouth via your wrist, holding it tenderly for a moment before placing the tiniest kiss to the skin. Feeling flushed and mind short circuiting, you find yourself frozen in your seat once again. Did he just..?

The large wooden doors suddenly open, Gaoshun finally appearing. He's standing behind Suiren, the two both holding trays containing food. You can barely think, lips parting as you try to come up with a response. Right, you need to—

With Jinshi's hold on your hand, you can't quite hide your face with your sleeves as is custom, instead forced to sit awkwardly with your head bowed as he holds your palm near his face. Does this man know no shame? Your one sleeve is nervously covering the bottom half of your face, hoping for a shred of decency, while Jinshi casually chats with the two as though nothing had happened, is happening. Of course, Suiren and Gaoshun know better than to ask why.

Without a word from you, the two slip out of the office once again, leaving you alone with Jinshi. Your head finally lifts up, noticing the dish in front of the two of you as Jinshi gently drops your hand.

"Like it? Gaoshun had mentioned you'd been particularly happy when he dropped this off to you. I figured that must make it your favorite."

And he's right. You stare down at your favorite meal; The last time you'd gotten a taste was when Gaoshun had secretly passed you a few bites what was now a few weeks ago.

With a small smile, you turn to look at Jinshi. "It is. Thank you."

ive been horribly sick lately so all ive posted the last few days were things i had already done. i havent been able to really work on any rqs 😭 sorry for those who have some in my inbox! when im able to think clearly ill be back to working hard 💪🏻

CONTAINS: mentions of a fictitious car crash, the occasional threat of death, gender neutral reader

While some may disagree, nothing is as painful as boredom.

Now more than ever you believed this, seated in the back corner of your classroom, cheek resting in the palm of your left hand. You didn’t even want to take this class; World Music has nothing to do with your major. However, it fulfilled some stupid university credit that everyone needs in order to graduate. Glancing down towards your empty notebook, you grabbed a pen with your free hand.

big drum = big sound

You scrawled the four words down before lazily looking back up at your professor. He had spent the last 20 minutes explaining the difference between the same two drums, and you weren’t excited to listen to the rest of his lecture… So, you didn’t. Your focus shifted from the tall, orange-haired man in the front of your class to the bickering just outside it, head tilting slightly to the side. The walls in the basement of your university’s Fine Arts building were thin, so even though your seat was situated at the other end of the classroom’s closed door, the pattering of footsteps still made its way through. Along with that, you could hear the tick of the clock that was hung up above the teacher’s desk at the front reading 1:27 pm—you still had 23 minutes left of this horribly boring class. What that also meant is that any student walking through the halls must be from a class that was let out exceedingly early.

Only two pairs of footsteps echoed outside the classroom, a pair of bickering voices accompanying them. If a class got out early, surely there would be more—both in terms of footsteps and voices. Maybe two students were arriving to a class early? This far in the semester, it was safe to say this would be a common occurrence if true, however, you had never heard anyone pass by at this time before today. These two weren’t students arriving early to a class, or leaving early from another. Two people wouldn’t be arriving 30 minutes late, at that point they’d skip the class. You put the tip of your pen between your teeth as you thought.

Maybe the pair had been getting out late? The basement of the fine arts building does house just about all of the campus’ art classes, maybe they had a project coming up and decided to stay and work late. No, all of the art classrooms are situated to the left of the basement, these two were coming from the right. Perhaps they were lost kids, visiting colleges for the following year? Maybe professors, bickering over lazy students and assignments they had yet to grade. Or maybe, piggybacking on your earlier idea, the two had come early to work on a project outside of class…

“Are you still with us?” You realized Mr. Patrick had stopped banging his drums when he called out your name. Oops, you zoned out. Your coworkers always warn you that you tend to zero in on one thing and need to work on being more aware of your surroundings. A small smile pulls at your face. Maybe you should drop out of school: you’re learning more from your current part-time job than your stupid World Music class.

“Yes, sorry. Just listening to the difference in the drums.” I’m listening to the muffled conversation happening in the halls, you thought to yourself. The pen you were chewing on a moment earlier was placed next to your notebook.

Your teacher hummed in response. “Is that so? Then maybe you can explain the difference for the rest of your classmates.” Maybe you can explain the need for this class— you held your tongue, choosing to clear your throat instead of being gifted a lecture from your professor.

“I’m willing to try,” your voice was lighthearted and playful as the hand that was holding your head up dropped to cover your suspicious lack of notes. “While both drums are marketed the same and share the same size, the one on the left has a richer, deeper sound when played,” You almost let an embarrassed smile slip as you improvised your explanation. “I would guess that there was a miscalculation during its production, and the left drum is likely a tiny bit bigger than the right, creating said deeper sound.” By the end of your explanation, your cheeks were slightly tinted. While you had coasted through school by bullshitting answers, you truly had no idea if you could get away with this one. Damn those two outside of the class, this wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t been here.

The longer the teacher didn’t respond, the worse your red cheeks got—and your cruel professor remained silent for what felt like a while after your little speech (which, in reality, had only been a few seconds).

“So you had been listening, glad to hear it. Yes, the difference is…” as Mr. Patrick went back to explaining the drums, you let out a sigh of relief, head dropping ever so slightly as your eyes closed. The confidence you had just shown as you gave your answer was an act, one you weren’t sure you could’ve kept up if he had urged you to continue. You couldn’t afford to zone out again: you had to let the strangers outside go.

With newfound determination, you grasped your pen once more and looked back up to your ginger music professor. Paying attention isn’t that hard, you can do this.

At least, that’s what you hoped, until the same strangers that had helped soothe your boredom for a moment stopped just outside the door to your classroom. You clicked your tongue in disdain—it felt as though they were tempting you, telling you you’re so close, just think a little harder! Those assholes—no way would you do that again. You had a feeling Mr. Patrick wouldn’t be as kind if you were caught zoning out for a second time. Besides, it hadn’t even been five minutes. Whoever was bickering outside your classroom could choke for all you cared, as long as they stopped distracting you.

“Fine, then let’s just ask!” was the first full sentence you could make out from the pair before the cheap wooden door on the back left corner of your small white classroom swung open.

This was definitely distracting you.

Glancing over from your place in the back right corner, you finally got to see the people that caused you to anxiously ramble in front of your whole class even if you’d done so correctly and confidently, the assholes you’d end yourself.

Holy shit.

Your eyes widened when you noticed who had burst into your classroom: a bandaged brunet and a bespectacled blond, two of your coworkers. You wondered if you had ever looked away so quickly before this moment. It suddenly made sense, why the bickering seemed so familiar and why you couldn’t pinpoint the reason for the pair’s appearance. They weren’t supposed to be here, and you made sure to scratch a quick fuck you into your notebook so you’d remember this later. After all, if you forgot, how could you make sure to complain to your boss?

“May I help you?” Mr. Patrick was careful to put down the two drums he had been cradling very delicately as he addressed the two men that had barged in.

Feeling embarrassed, you placed your hand flat against your cheek, turning your head down and hoping your face was hidden. You can’t believe these two would pull such a stunt as this, especially the blond. Wasn’t he a teacher at one point? Shouldn’t he know not to interrupt a class?

“We’re sorry to-“ before the aforementioned blond could properly explain the situation, his brunet partner started talking over him.

“I believe you can help us, you see, we’re looking for a student that goes here,” he punctuated the sentence with your full name. Seeing as the teacher had recently said your name to humiliate ask you a question, every student in the class turned to the back right corner, directly to where you sat—or, rather, where you slouched, as you had curled your body in on itself in an attempt to hide.

“Is that so? May I ask why?” You silently cheered, hoping Mr. Patrick would scare these two morons away so you wouldn’t have to deal with all of your peers’ eyes directed towards the safe back corner you resided in.

But of course, nothing was that simple. The tall brunet you had come to occasionally appreciate at work started tearing up, ready to give the performance of a lifetime.

“It’s hard to vocalize,” he started by stuttering. “You see, we came to tell them that their dear sister has…” the man paused briefly as you peaked through your fingers with an amused smile, ready to see how this would play out. “Their sister got into a car crash,” and he burst into tears. Quite the actor, but it’s a good thing you are, too.

You didn’t really have a choice but to play along. What were you supposed to say? ‘No, he’s lying; Please resume your boring ass lecture?’ So, you contorted your face to make it seem like you were about to cry (fake crying was something you had yet to master) and pulled your hands down your face. “She what?” Spinning from your spot, you looked directly at the two.

“We need you to come with us, so we may escort you to the hospital where she is being held.” The blond did not look comfortable with the brunet’s show, and simply walked out of the classroom as he continued.

You’re the worst, you wanted to say. Instead, you stood up, packed your nearly empty notes into your backpack, and followed your blond coworker into the hall.

“You see, sir, they need to visit their sister. If you can excuse their absence this once…”

“Of course, I won’t take any points off; This is an emergency.” You rolled your eyes as you overheard your teacher’s voice. You were supposed to save me, Mr. Patrick.

The tall brunet slipped into a hallway and immediately his eyes dried, a cocky smirk appearing on his face.

“I hope you get into a car accident,” you whisper, swinging a backpack strap over your shoulder as you start following the blond, who now stood at the end of the hallway. He stood impatiently, as was indicated by the tapping of his foot and him checking his watch repeatedly.

“Not the first time I’ve gotten that.”

“I find that extremely easy to believe.”

The two annoyances in the hall were none other than Kunikida Doppo and Dazai Osamu: employees at your part-time job.

AKA: the only people that could make you miss the torturous boredom.

MANN i just found your blog and ur dazai is just 😭😭😭🥲🥲🥲 i love it. hes so pathetic, i love pathetically obsessed men, my beloathed ❤️❤️. ur writing is mwah mwnah mwah kissing you on your forehead ,,,,

but i read that lil hand playing excerpt and i just... gahh cute!

lol this is probably a dumb little thing but i like cracking my friends knuckles, i would def crack his knuckles if i held his hand, just to see his reaction (and i think its satisfying)

anyway thank you for your service 🫡 gained a follower my good sir

GDJAEHD THANK YOU!!!! i will continue to be pathetic dazai's number one soldier 🫡 i can imagine reader adding slight pressure to his knuckles before suddenly CRACK! ... dazai just looks so bewildered for a moment O.o he'll just give you his other hand and ask if you'll do it again LMAO

Hello deer!! I wholeheartedly hope you are feeling better day after day! Here a bit of a thought about Dazai that could cheer you up.

I was thinking about Pm! Dazai (like always).

People always says "he listens to this, he listens to that", I think he didn't listen to any music honestly.

So imagine if you are the one who makes him listen to songs for the first time, and you help him build up his own tastes making him listen to any genre, some you like some maybe you don't like just to help him.

It would be so wholesome idk I love this idea😭

- ⏳️

hi ⏳ anon!!! youre so real 🙂‍↕️ i did this more as hcs :)

"Why are you playing me songs you don't like?"

"..? Because what if you like them?"

"I'm not going to just out of spite now."

and he doesn't

if you go out of your way to show dazai songs and help him build his taste he's just gonna fall in love with you agree with what you like

i think honestly it'd be hell to make him sit down and listen, follow along with the lyrics, etc - so please have something else nearby for him to stimulate his brain or hands or anything!!!!

like puzzles or something! fidget toys idk! maybe he doesn't care for music because he doesn't understand sitting there silently and doing nothing

listen. drop a bin of legos on him or something you know what i mean?

but you teach him well 🙂‍↕️ you don't have to just sit around and focus solely on the music! you can dance and have fun or just put it in the background!!!!

and now he gets it. now he's into it.

i think he'd love all music! isn't the type to make specific playlists just has every song he likes in one big pile

he doesn't gaf when some high beat song comes on full blast after the saddest tune yk. doesn't bat an eye

perhaps a given but he loves songs about dark topics that have cheerful beats 😭 have any of you heard bullet by hollywood undead? bro blasts that song all the time just to frustrate mori people

i think his emo ass would love mcr i'm sorry lmao

him rocking out and going crazy to all of their discography... it was meant for him

he hates whatever music you hate in solidarity btw. YOU showed him music so you clearly are the end all be all on decisions here

if someone recommends him a song he asks you if you've heard it. if not: you can listen together! if so:

"Do you like it? Are we gatekeeping this artist? Or is the song bad and I should I tell this guy to fuck off?"

"Dazai, just listen to it! Maybe you'll like it!"

"? That's what I'm trying to figure out. So answer my question, do you like it?"

and he says that all on the phone with you across from the person lmao

i just think he doesn't care enough to find his own taste if he never cared enough to listen on his own

so while he Says that your music taste is objectively correct (to which he stands by fully) he also just doesn't mind never listening to anything else

he doesn't care to branch out! dazai just likes you

and by extension, your music

piggybacking off of what i said earlier, he is not a playlist guy

BUT. however.

dazai will never sit down and forge his own playlist

unless it's a joke. "songs to make chuuya mad" and it's like. nyan cat 10 hour version idfk

okay back to the point

dazai will never forge his own playlists HOWEVER. if you're a playlist enjoyer and make tons and tons, spanning across different moods and different times and everything -

he listens to Every Single One

dazai will pick favorites from the playlists, but each one is meticulously worked through and studied, making sure to give you specific compliments on each one

okay. pm!dazai is so emo i need you all to understand while he does just shuffle every song you've ever liked, he is partial to more of that standard tumblr-emo shit yk

bro queues up mcr fall out boy and pierce the veil

every middle school emo kid's playlist is what dazai listens to

dazai probably smells like freshly washed sheets, and detergent, and comfort…

i don’t think he would get any perfumes, cologne yes but he would feel like perfumes aren’t necessary

i love him sm…

you're right anon i feel like he walked into a perfume shop one time got blasted with every smell known to man and immediately left . he does not gaf. also lowkey i imagine he smells like spilled alcohol and canned crab bc thats his morning if he remembers to eat

It has been a long weekend and Dazai was honestly excited to get back to work. As much as he messed around and pawned his work off onto others, being with the agency made him feel good — he liked helping people. Also, he missed you a little bit.

Sniff, sniff... Probably not as much as you missed him.

"You're always so warm... It's like you were taken out of the dryer right before you got here!" Your arms were dangling loosely off his shoulders, head buried into the crook of his neck. "I'm smelling you right now, by the way. Sorry if that's weird."

It is, for sure, but you two were just like that. Dazai stood quietly with a small smile on his face, letting you continue to just bask in his presence for a few minutes. It was far too early in the brunet's opinion — it was still dark out! — and right now he wanted nothing more than to just cuddle up with you on the agency's couch and go back to bed.

"It is weird. Get to work," Kunikida spoke from his desk, already sorting through his reports.

"Kunikida, you're just mad they don't want to smell you. You probably smell like frustration and grossness, where as I smell like flowers and love." Dazai bats his eyelashes teasingly towards his coworker, who mutters angrily but doesn't reply.

"Dazai, you smell like detergent. That's why I always think you just rolled in here from a dryer. It's a very fresh and comforting smell."

"Aha! Comforting; You hear that, Kunikida?"

deer!!! do u have any thoughts abt atsushi? i just read your newest post and i was surprised to see you included him, and now im curious!

omg hi anonnn :) "newest" it's been almost 6 months i'm so sorry 💀

atsushi is perfect of course 🙂‍↕️ he's a guy who went through insane traumas and is still fighting for the greater good that's goat!!!

i kinda love seeing the fandom fight to either vilify or woobify this guy like. that's just an 18 yr old doing his job straight out of the orphanage who gaf (me!!!!! i gaf 🙂‍↕️) also he's funny af! him being annoyed by dazai, weirded out by ranpo at first ("he doesn't so any work yet y'all love him??" then being like nvm i love him too), etc

i think he's super well written and an interesting character! he's entertaining and the perfect main character :) i love seeing his growth, relationships w everyone like dazai's mentorship and akutagawa's rivalry :) big atsushi fan!!!

i'm kind of just a dazai obsessed freak when it comes to bsd so i don't write for him often but fear not!!!! atsushi is perfect and i am not nor will i ever be an atsushi hater

for relationship-esque thoughts (since that's my blog lol) i think of atsushi as a really caring partner!!! he obviously prioritizes communication and is in touch with his emotions :) he's super sensitive and protective and also would be really cozy to cuddle up to at night since he's just a big cat lol

he's also the perfect boyfriend to bring around your family like he's quiet and reserved but also totally enamored with you and willing to fight for your honor ??? he's perfect i'm told! just look at him being a big bro to kyouka like he's a family man 100%

i think any potential angst or butting heads would come from him sometimes being a doormat when he doesn't mean to? but even that's a stretch bc he easily chews out dazai and akutagawa when the time calls for it

tl;dr he's perfect that's my pet cat i keep on hand to lie at the end of my bed and warm my feet at night

Bungo Stray Dogs masterlist main masterlist

Dazai Osamu

Nikolai Gogol

Ranpo Edogawa

Atsushi Nakajima

Chuuya Nakahara

Boredom - 10/30/22 older bsd fic ft. dazai and kunikida that focuses more on the reader character . was just a fun exercise for me tbh! haven't gone back i hope it is in any way legible

Previous anon is so real i love the dishwashing fic sm

THANK YOU SM!!!! im glad everyone is enjoying!!!!!!

i dunno why but your blog is my fav.. (coming from a hardcore nsfw liker) like its really simple but super cute TT and vv comforting…

haha glad you like it!!! ❤️❤️