THIS THIS THIS Denji My Poor Bby

THIS THIS THIS denji my poor bby

I could be his mother. I could take care of him. My sweet baby boy.

₊˚.༄🌊₊˚.༄

MC, a total sucker for dad jokes.

MC x Obey me characters: mainly diavolo tbh

You love dad jokes. You don't know, why and the jokes are frankly terrible but it always has you laughing.

You burst into a fit of giggles as you walk over with weak knees to satan. He always laughs at your jokes, and he can feel another one you're brewing up as an exasperated Mammon trails behind you.

"Satan--" You wheezed. "What-- What do you call an angry carrot?" You stumble over your words as you try your hardest not to interrupt yourself with laughter. He sighs, shutting his book and giving you his undivided attention.

"What?" Mammon shakes his head from his spot behind you, trying to warn his brother of the corny punchline to come.

"A steamed veggie!" And then you'd practically double over in a fit of giggles.

Either way, it's cringeworthy. Some of the brothers laugh and endorse you just for the hell of it, after all your happiness is theirs, but some don't and rather give you a pitying look. Poor things can't bring themselves to laugh, but no matter, because you were always wheezing out a laugh, choking on your own giggles to notice the tough crowd. But either way, no matter how corny the joke, your laugh was sickeningly contagious

And then, on a particular dinner, you started giggling at your DDD in the presence of Diavolo. Lucifer knew that specific glint in your eyes and was mortified. He was so afraid of the outcome of your terrible jokes. "Daivolo! Wanna hear a human joke?" "I would love to, I have yet to hear some."

"Okay, okay, What do you call a fish without an eye?" "Why did the poor thing lose an eye?" "Just answer the question--" "Alright, why?"

You stifled your giggles with a tooth-rotting, sweet smile. "A--" You chuckled, eyes almost watering at the joke. "A fshhhh!" You extended the noise before practically falling over laughing. Diavolo blinked. He looked over at Lucifer with a blank expression before turning back to you. He held his gaze on your laughing figure.

Then it clicked.

He let out a boisterous laugh. The type that echoed and reverberated against the marble walls of the dining room.

The two of you would double over in laughs and from there on forward, he became what you liked to call your joke buddy, constant exchanges of notes and letters and laughter-filled whispers.

i love you ino takuma

reblog to give bite-sized takuma head pats (s2 op)

yuji, who would be a knight, and a great one at that, who would do anything for his princess.

THIS THIS THISSSS

it was so beautiful

thinking about falling in love with your older brother’s best friend, ino takuma - who’s got a bear-themed mug and toothbrush stationed at your place for how often he’s over. 

hey, he’s practically part of the family by now - always along on day trips and, more often than not, your annual vacations. he’s just always been part of your life, a constant.

you’d be eight years old and sitting on the back porch after school, legs swinging over the edge as the icy pole he gave you leaves sticky trails down your bare arms. he’ll ask you what you learned in school today. you turn to him to answer and the summer sun blinds your eyes; he shifts to the right so his shadow falls over you instead. you’re struggling with your multiplication tables; you can’t seem to get the hang of it, and you asked your brother but he said he was busy, and you have a test on wednesday and you’re going to fail, you’re sure of it. but then he ruffles your hair, smiling, and asks what exactly you need help in, because he’s sure he can sort you out. of course he can; at two entire years older than you, takuma knows everything.

you’ve known this ever since you were young - ever since you were four or five and met takuma for the first time. it’s one of your earliest memories; you wandered downstairs to find him and your brother playing mario kart in the lounge, still in their school uniforms, crosslegged in front of the television. you’d wanted to play; your brother had refused to teach you how, with all the cruelty of a first grader. as you stood there, wailing, his friend had crouched down in front of you and wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“don’t cry; i’ll teach you.” he's so smart. then, to make you smile - “your brother doesn’t actually know how to play. that’s why he’s scared of teaching you.”

“am not!” your brother had retorted furiously.

“i’ve beaten you three times in a row!” takuma had shot back with glee. “c’mon, move, it’s your sister’s turn now. who do you want to play as?”

“daisy!”

he’d claimed the switchup from tears to sudden passion had earned you that as a nickname; ‘daisy’, often edited to an affectionate ‘crazy daisy’, or sometimes ‘daisy-head mayzie’ after your brief obsession with the book.

takuma would always say hi to you when you saw each other at school, even if your brother pointedly looked in the other direction. if he had time he’d stop and ask how your day was going, more often than not with a head pat or hair ruffle that you valiantly tried to escape - “stop it, ‘kuma, you’re ruining my look.” once, when you were ten, he’d given you a fistbump as he passed you in the hallway.

“who’s that?” your friend had gasped with wide eyes. “you’re on fist-bump terms with a high schooler?”

“he’s not in high school otherwise he wouldn’t be here,” you’d corrected.

“he’s cute.”

you’d frowned. “he’s just takuma.”

you’d never thought about him like that before. you’d mostly brushed her aside, but at twelve your friend’s comment resurfaced as you saw takuma waiting for you outside your classroom after school, skateboard tucked under his arm, hair messy.

he’s cute.

takuma, now fourteen, was in a high school ten minutes away - but those meagre ten minutes created a disproportionate distance between you. not only did you not see him around school anymore, but he didn’t come over as often. when he did, he was usually doing homework with your brother or playing video games in his room. sure, he’d always have a smile for you, but it wasn’t enough.

“what are you doing here?” you’d asked him. “where’s my brother?”

“i’m walking you home instead. he had a couple free periods and decided to ditch.”

you didn’t have much to say to each other, but the silence wasn’t awkward. at the top of your street you’d asked him if you could have a go on his skateboard. he’d clipped his helmet over your head - never mind that it slipped over your eyes - and crouched down to tie on the knee pads as tight as they’d go.

“hold on,” he told you over his shoulder, and you wrapped your arms even tighter around his waist as you sped downhill, the two of you whooping all the way. you’d gotten in massive trouble with your parents after, but the secret smile takuma had flashed at you as his mother led him away by the ear was worth it. you blamed the swooping in your stomach as an aftermath of your wild hurtling down the hill.

so-called ‘best friends’ spreading rumours about you behind your back? getting your heart broken at fourteen by a popular guy in your english class? being called a sl-t in front of half the year level by aforementioned popular guy? takuma was always there, consoling you as you cried behind the sports oval, tag-teaming with your brother to give that boy a bloody nose. they’d gotten suspended, but he assured you it was worth it, he’d wanted a day off anyway, and that sleaze had deserved much worse.

you realised you were in love with him at sixteen as you’d gone for a walk down your street in golden hour, taking a break from studying for your upcoming finals, earphones in. he’d been shooting hoops in his front yard - less than a block away from yours - like he was blowing off steam.

“you okay?” you pulled out an earphone and leaned over the fence, resting on your forearms.

he’d glanced up. “hi, dais'. yeah. i’m good.”

he lined up another shot; missed. you leaped lightly over the fence, padding over to him.

“really?”

“...not really, actually.”

“what’s up?”

he shrugged. “just stressed. exams, uni applications, all that jazz.”

“oh yeah.” you’d been trying to forget. in a few short months he’d be leaving you behind, entering an entirely new world. how long would it take him to forget about you?

he’d shot a couple more hoops, then flopped down against the garage and took a drink from his plastic bottle, waving a lazy hand towards you. you accepted his invitation and sat down next to him, legs stretching out in front of you. 

“what’re you listening to?” he said after a minute, and you gave him one of your earphones, hands brushing in the exchange. 

the wire trailed between you, a tenuous connection. his head was tilted up, resting against the wall, eyes closed. a few locks of hair were stuck to the back of his neck; a droplet of sweat trailed down his throat and disappeared under his shirt. his skin glowed in the golden light, and you realised you could stay like this forever.

but you couldn’t. because things were changing too fast. you, him; the world around you. time was catching up to you. you were scared you would fade away in its vicious tides.

“do you have to go to uni?” you’d broken the silence after ten, maybe fifteen minutes. a light breeze had picked up; the sky was darkening.

“as opposed to what?” he’d said dryly.

you shrugged. “i dunno.”

more silence.

“i’ll miss you.”

he wasn’t looking at you, but his face was slightly pink, or maybe you were imagining things in the dimming light. 

“yeah. me too,” you’d said. you pretended it meant more than what it was; you pretended it was an admission of love.

later, you’d know it was.

later. later. now.

he is twenty-one and you are nineteen and his arms are tight around you, and you’ve abandoned movie night in your dorm room for something more.

“i missed you,” he says into the curve of your neck and shoulder, and kisses his way up to your jaw. “don’t go again.”

“you’re the one who left,” you say, but he covers your mouth with his hand before you can finish talking.

“don’t be silly. i’m right here.” he gives you a teasingly warning look with his eyes, don’t talk, before slowly removing his hand. 

you roll your eyes at him, but when he kisses you, you’re kissing him back.

finished writing this n realised i was late to my first counselling appt but the ppl must be fed!! (i announce to all 5 of the takuma nation)

i should base my Yuji fic off of "Out like a Light" By Ricky Montgomery tbh