Thats What I Thought. :)

days when dazai was lost. not in a literal sense—but it sort of feels like it because he doesn’t know where to go, and he thinks he should find someone from the agency, but it feels wrong to go to them because they wouldn’t understand, and he doesn’t want to explain, and he knows they’ll worry too much. he doesn’t feel like pity would help at all, so he’s stumbling aimlessly. he thinks he might be drunk, because his mind is muddled and he doesn’t feel like he has much control over himself at the moment. a minute later (or maybe not, because it’s considerably darker than two minutes ago), he’s knocking at a door. then he slumps against it, yelping when it opens and he’s failing and falling. but someone catches him, and he looks up, expecting to see atsushi or even kunikida, but he finds himself slumped in the arms of someone smaller, someone more familiar. and the apartment is a lot bigger and more expensive than one the agency could afford—which he wonders how he didn’t notice when he’d knocked.

“are you… drunk?” chuuya asks, and he’s scowling. despite how much shorter he is, he doesn’t struggle in the slightest on holding dazai up, and it takes a moment to respond because dazai finds that amazing.

“dunno,” dazai manages, after a while. his voice feels raw, like he was screaming. maybe crying. he can’t quite recall anymore. “can i come in?”

chuuya’s nose scrunches up, and he’s clearly against the idea. “why the fuck are you even here?” he demands instead. he doesn’t have his hat on now, so he likely was getting ready to settle down. oh, but he still has his choker. “you smell and look like shit.”

“thanks.” dazai tries standing back up. chuuya helps him prop himself on the wall, and he wobbles there for a while until he can form any words on his lips. “i didn’t know where else to go.”

that wasn’t true, dazai thinks. he doesn’t know why he’s here anyway. oh, then maybe it was true. suppose his first instinct was to find chuuya. wait, that didn’t make sense either. why chuuya? why not… why not who? oh, right. he had his own apartment, why hadn’t he gone there? maybe he forgot his key at the agency. probably that.

chuuya interrupts his internal confusion with a loud sigh. “you’re not in the mafia anymore, shitty dazai. you can’t just waltz up to my door and expect me to let you in.”

with a frown, dazai almost topples over again in his haste to convince chuuya. his head feels heavy.

“shit—“ chuuya curses, and scoops dazai up before he head dives into the porch. “god, you’re a fucking idiot.”

“let me in!!” dazai whines, but it feels halfhearted. he’s tired, now. his eyes droop shut. “i’ll… i won’t bother you for two days if you do.”

“hm.” chuuya pretends to consider it, but he’s already prying dazai’s shoes off. “make that two months.”

“meanie.” dazai opens his eyes again and finds himself on a couch. he wonders where the couch came from—then realizes he’s inside. he didn’t know chuuya could speed up time.

chuuya’s not there, though. dazai looks around.

“chuuya?” he frowns. “chuuya, where are you?”

when he gets no response, he panics. was he dreaming, then? fuck, hallucinating was definitely not a good sign. so he swings his legs over the couch and stands. then he trips and falls.

“jesus fucking christ, what kind of idiot are you?” chuuya’s voice growls, and there’s the hurried clinking of glass and then an arm is holding dazai up. “where has your equilibrium gone—how much did you fucking drink?”

“oh. chuuya, hi,” dazai chokes out. blood is rushing to his head in this position, and it’s a relief and he’s laid back onto the couch. he tries for a smile. “i thought you were a dream.”

“please don’t dream about me,” chuuya deadpans, then hands him some water. “but, no, i went to get you a glass. clearly, you need it.”

“i don’t need glasses.” dazai sips at the cup. it’s cold on his tongue, but it makes his head less dizzy. he closes his eyes, pushing the cup away and laying limp on the couch. “chuuya, you’re not leaving, right?”

“eh? this is my house, don’t be stupid,” chuuya sighs. he flicks dazai’s forehead. fabric rustles, and dazai peeks and eye open to see him standing.

“wait— wait, don’t go,” dazai hurries to say, fumbling as he reaches for chuuya’s arm. “i’m—“

“you’re what?” chuuya asks, when dazai falters.

something of clarity shakes dazai more awake. “i’ll puke on your couch if you leave.”

“i hate you.”

chuuya sits back down. he snatches one of the pillows from the couch.

dazai smiles. he closes his eyes again and listens to chuuya settle on the floor (he’s sitting, dazai assumes). he’ll likely be gone when dazai wakes up, but there’s a sense of comfort that he at least agreed to stay for now.

as he drifts too sleep, exhausted, dazai wonders again why he decided to go to chuuya. ‘i didn’t know where else to go,’ he’d said. where had that come from?

when he wakes up, chuuya’s still there, curled up on the floor with the pillow clutched in his arms.

WHAT THE FUCKS A WOMBAT

Baby Dazai

Based off:

Where the Heart is by scrivyner

@sskk-squared

ALBATROSS LOOKS SO GOOFY IN THE BACKGROUND I LOVE HIM

“If anyone ever asks you that question again, just show ’em this picture.”

What did mini Dazai do?!

What really happened...

It definitely did, you fruity little gremlin

[POST]

making a sandwich for the first time. wish me luck chat I’M SCARED…

no crab OR lemon twizzlers involved… i’m so adventurous…

GORGEOUS

Long time no post hi

Dabi!

WHY DID YOU WATCH IT

[POST]

what the fuck is going on in america

is this the election…

NO THEYRE SO TINY AND CUTE LET THEM BE HAPPY

They're friens <3. :3

[POST]

i shant allow it. BUNNYZAI KILL THIS GUY!!!!

There’s two by the plants, one hidden behind, and one a little bit beneath the darkest one

I think Dazai doesn't know what personal space is💔