you lay on your stomach, arms supporting your head, watching hiori at his gaming desk as you comfortably rest in his bed. he's currently absorbed in a match, mouse swiveling and clicking rhythmically with precision.
but your focus wasn't on his game—it was the thing floating on his hair that caught your attention.
that damn ahoge.
it bobs with his head as it moves, floating like a stupid antenna. when he's happy, it perks up. when he's sad, you could swear it deflates like it really is attached to his amygdala. even when his hair is wet, it still floats like two like charges repelling each other.
you get up and pad your way towards him. you kneel down at his desk, silently watching him play and staring at that strand of hair in the periphery of your vision.
he glances at you, eyes switching back and forth from you and the screen. he's confused. were you mad at him for not giving you enough attention? or were you just wanting to tease him?
once his match was over, you got up and leaned on his chair, face to face with his blue eyes. "can i do something?"
"sure, what—agh!!"
he yelps as you tug on his ahoge, whole body flinching like he got zapped.
"holy shit," you mutter. "it can feel pain?"
hiori rubs his head, "it's my hair! of course it'll hurt if ya pull on it!"
you giggle as hiori rights himself up, head throbbing. "i didn't even pull it that hard!"
"well, it's sensitive," he frowns. he couldn't really be angry at you, even if he tried.
"ehh? how sensitive?"
you lean onto his chair again, fingers inching closer and closer to his ahoge until he slaps your daring hand away. "'m not gonna let ya touch my hair again. you'll pull it off if ya do it one more time."
you pout and give him a dissatisfied hum.
hiori is a weak person. he folds over like a deck of cards when your lips turn down and eyebrows furrow.
he sighs and takes his headphones off, chucking them on his keyboard.
"fine…" he mutters. "ya win." in one sweep, he picks you up and gently throws you onto his bed, the mattress bouncing as you laugh. he joins in and jumps on right beside you, the bed frame creaking under the surprise weight.
the both of you pick yourselves up and sit upright, face to face.
"so…?" hiori draws out, ushering you.
you slowly extend your hand towards his ahoge and flick it. it bobs. he shivers. you gasp in wonder.
"and no pulling," he adds in right as you capture his hair in a fist.
you gently nod your head as you use your thumb to rub circles on his hair strand. "does it feel good?"
"it feels… weird. like having my spine traced with cold fingers."
"huh.." it was a weird analogy, but made sense. what was hiori without his weird analogies?
you twirl the hair around your index finger and hiori chokes, trying to keep a fit of giggles in. "that tickles!"
you keep on twirling his ahoge while hiori shifted and blushed until he physically had to stop you, a strong grip on your wrist stopping any further movement.
once the two of you settle down, you ask the question that's been chewing on you ever since you decided that his ahoge was something worth investigating. "what does it even do…?"
he looks up and taps his own ahoge, swaying it. "i don't even know. i guess i was born with it, but neither my mom nor dad have anything like this."
you furrow your brows in confusion. "how does that even work?"
he shrugs. "don't ask me. i've never met my grandparents to see if they had something similar."
you touch his light blue hair one more time, inspecting it even closer. "what an anomaly…"
wanting to tease him once again, you wrap your fingers around the strand of hair and try to pull, only to be blocked by his lightning fast reflexes.
"pull that trick one more time and i'll break yer fingers."
a/n: [fem!reader] me when dad rin dad rin i. i am so weak for him this will not be the last of it. YOU WILL BE FED RIN KISSERS
the alarm clock that sat on your bedside table blinked 2:13 a.m. as you stirred from an uneasy sleep. you roll toward the empty space beside you for rin's familiar comforting weight to fall protectively across your arms, but the space was cold.
you frown, sit up and carefully listen. then you hear something. downstairs, someone giggling.
you slipped out of bed carefully and padded down the hall toward the soft glow emanating from the kitchen. with every step, the sounds grew clearer: your baby's bubbly laughter and rin's unmistakable soft chuckle.
curious, you peeked into the kitchen and the image that graced your eyes almost burst your heart.
rin was sitting cross-legged on the tiled floor, his hair adorably messy from sleep and his hoodie slightly askew. in front of him was a tub of neopolitan ice cream, flavours all mixed up. sitting in his lap was your baby fuyumi clutching a tiny spoon, babbling excitedly between bites.
"itoshi rin. itoshi fuyumi." you sternly whispered, leaning against the doorway, your arms crossed but a fond smile tugging at your lips. "care to explain what's going on here?"
rin looked up, evidently startled for a moment, lips agape, before offering a rare grin. "'yumi woke up." he said simply, nodding toward the tiny human in his lap. "and she was hungry."
"so naturally, you thought ice cream at two in the morning was the solution?" you teased, raising an eyebrow as you stepped closer.
"of course," he deadpanned, gently wiping a smudge of chocolate off your baby's cheek with the pad of his thumb. "but... look at her. worth it." he says the latter part under his breath.
your baby let out a squeal of delight, waving her spoon triumphantly in the air as if in agreement.
you shook your head, unable to hold back a laugh. "unbelievable."
rin smirked, and held out the tub of ice cream, "want some?"
regardless of how much you scold them for it, you're also not able to resist it. with a drawn-out sigh, you took a spoon out from the drawer, plumping yourself down beside them onto the floor. "only because."
the three of you sat there, sharing ice cream and stealing quiet moments of joy in the stillness of the night. your daughter fuyumi, thoroughly energized-by-the-sugar-rush decided that her small pink plastic spoon made an excellent drumstick, causing her to start tapping it against rin's knee and giggling uncontrollably at the sound.
rin played along, tapping his own spoon in rhythm. "we have a small musician..." he said, his eyes soft as they met yours.
"or a troublemaker,"
"takes after their mom."
you gasped in mock offense, and rin laughed a rare, unguarded sound that made your heart skip a beat.
as the minutes ticked by, the ice cream tub slowly emptied, and your daughter began to yawn, their tiny fists rubbing at their sleepy eyes. rin scooped them up effortlessly, cradling them against his chest as he stood.
“i’ll put 'yumi back to bed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
you followed him upstairs, watching as he carefully tucked your daughter into her crib. his movements so gentle, like he was handling the most precious pearl in the world.
he walks out with a faint smile. the smile you fell for when you were 16. "thanks for not killing me over the ice cream," he whispered.
you smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. "you're just lucky you guys are cute."
he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. resting your head against his shoulder as you both stood there, watching your baby rest.
and in that quiet moment, with the warmth of rin's arms around you and the peaceful rise and fall of your baby's breaths, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.
Sae's favourite part of his day were his walks– one early in the morning and one in the night before he went to bed. It was his peace and quiet time, where no one would come to bother him. No calls, no interviews, no meetings just calm.
One night as he was walking, he spotted you. Kissing one of the street dogs directly on the forehead. He assumed the dog was un-vaccinated and scrunched up his nose in disgust.
After a few weeks, him seeing you was like a routine. Sometimes feeding dogs, returning home late from work or just walking– like he was.
The first time he actually spoke to you was when he was right around the corner and you ran upto him, your breathing uneven and rushed.
“Do you know how dogs giving birth works?” the concern in your voice was evident, he admired your concern and love for dogs.
“No.” his answer was straight, providing no emotion at all. But he silently hoped you wouldn't leave it at that.
“Uhh, can you atleast be there then? It's my first time and I– I don't want anything to happen to Brartholomew The Third.” you kept turning your head from him to the pile of blankets on the pavement as you spoke.
His eyebrows raised slightly, though his expression stayed neutral, you knew he didn't give two shits but you did. “Fine.” he agreed at last as he followed you to where Bartholomew The Third layed.
After a while of you giving her, Bartholomew The Third, belly rubs and him just standing there you turned to him.
“Here, you can name him.” you carefully place a small puppy in his hand, smiling up at him from where you knelt at the ground.
He found your gentleness endearing, “I don't know, you can name him.” he said as he stared intently at the dog. His eyes finding yours.
“Name him anything, or you could name him after something.” you turned your back on him and continued playing with the other puppies.
He seriously wasn't buying that you didn't recognise him. Mabey his ego was to high, or you just had zero football knowledge or mabey the two.
“I'll name him Rin Itoshi.”
You went home that night hoping he would return, and a part of you would like to belive he hoped for the same.
note: sleepy x sleepy, texts made using postfully !(i rlly recommend), petnames (nagi: baby, r: sei, hon)
tw: none!
…sun✰ first smau! i love smaus sm and i hope i did them justice
extra!
when seishiro returned after his game, the lights in the downstairs were all turned on. he looked around the living room of their apartment, eyes catching on his boyfriend who was passed out on the couch. the tv was still on the sports channel, the broadcasters discussing seishiro’s goal in the last five minutes with a fervor that made him more tired than actually playing soccer.
he dropped his bag lazily and kicked off his shoes, walking to y/n. a soft smile graced his lips as he rubbed the man’s hair, his eyes crunched in his slumber. “i’m home.” seishiro whispered, kissing y/n’s forehead gently. lifting the man, blankets and all, off the couch, seishiro brought him to their shared room, placing y/n onto the bed. he could barely wait to close his eyes and sleep after his shower. his day was so long, and he deserved the rest.
especially when he got to rest next to his lover. that made it all the better.
431 words
my first smau! i want to do these more def :p
w.c. 841
content: itoshi rin x fem reader, post-break up angst
༘⋆📼˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
are you okay?
he keeps asking. that same question appears in your messages a few times a day, a few times too many. it's nice to know he cares, a little bit in the slightest at least, but it doesn't help with the raw aching in the center of your chest— where all of the affection you hold for rin is struggling to find a place in your body to settle. it's pulling at your skin and tugging your limbs, urging your fingers to type the infamous 'i miss you' that lives in the delusion your heart wants to come true.
but you do miss him.
you really miss him.
you want to move on, but you can't. you can't seem to push past the denial that you aren't together anymore. you broke up. he broke up with you. you aren't a couple. you aren't his girlfriend. you aren't the love of his life. rin will forget about you. he'll forget you. you don't matter.
you're nothing and he's everything.
he holds so much real estate in your chest that you find yourself starting the car, backing onto the street, and heading towards the home you once shared. will you regret this? probably. do you even care anymore? no.
so, when you raise your hand before the door, there's no hesitation, no anxiety seeping from your fingertips— just heavy grief that hasn't been processed yet. grief that you're begging to receive closure for; and you're one step closer to that gift when the handle turns, and you're face-to-face with the man who broke your heart.
his eyes look heavy. there isn't an ounce of surprise in them. it's almost as if he was expecting you...
...god, you're so predictable. you're so pathetic and desperate that he knew you'd cave and come. why can't you be strong like him? why can't you move on?
"i can't let you in." rin murmurs. his statement is firm and his body doesn't budge. "this isn't healthy, baby."
in spite of his words, he cups your face. the feeling of his palms is familiar. a touch that your dreams welcome when you can't find sleep, and yearn for the comfort you once shared. his blue gaze has love hidden behind those steely irises. you know it. there has to be some love left in there for you. you can't have just vanished from his heart. that's what you choose to believe— a perfect example of how you convince yourself to stay stranded in denial despite knowing otherwise.
"let's talk," you beg, "one last time."
"what's left to say?" his voice cracks and rin's strength wavers for a moment. "i can't do this. i'm not cut out for this. i don't have time for a relationship; i've already said all of this, please don't make me say it again."
you can tell he's on the verge of tears, lip quivering and eyebrows furrowed, rin pulls you closer. his hands magnetically find your body and he embraces you in a tight hug. it's selfish. he's leading you on once more and giving you false hope that maybe, this time, the conversation will end differently. he longs for the comfort you bring him, but won't provide that same favor when you ask for it.
it's too much to handle alone. you're tired.
this needs to stop.
"i've just been thinking so much lately." you begin, trying to find some courage. any courage. anything to help. "and i've realized that i put so much into this. i put my all into you. i gave you everything, and i'm not— i'm just not—"
"not what?"
a sigh escapes you.
"i'm not enough to convince you to stay."
rin's arms tighten. "you're perfect. you are. i'm the one who's not enough for you. believe me—"
"how can i?" you interrupt. "if i was perfect, you'd try harder. you'd want to keep me around so we can help each other be better. i hate who i'm becoming without you. i have no one to care for. i have all of these feelings and i don't know where to put them because they just want to feel for you. i'm running around in circles trying to process everything that happened because it was so abrupt, but i just can't do it— i want you. all i want is you. i don't know who i am anymore. rin please. you can still change your mind. i'm begging. i've begged so many times. let this work, just once. i love you."
his lips are on yours in a split second, deeply kissing you to end your mindless ramble, and his plan works. he shuts you up.
he ends the conversation, once again, with a kiss; never giving a real answer to your questions. never giving a solution to the dilemma. rin just restarts the cycle of manipulation that he doesn't even realize he's doing. you can't let each other go. your efforts will always fail. you'll be stuck in this loop forever. lonely, yet loving him.
ONE FOR SORROW ╱ ch. [1] of counting crows (karasu x f!reader series)
August [28]
Summer's coming to an end;
I wonder if Autumn will bring something (a)new.
FREQUENCY ILLUSIONS are an irritating phenomenon. At least, to you they are.
It is a well established fact that everyone's brain is constantly bombarded with several scraps of sensory inputs every passing second, an amount far too much for anyone to thoroughly digest. The majority of them will simply slip through the crevices of your mind, flowing out like dew as they trickle away from the branches of your knowledge. The remainders usually manage to hook onto such rooks in the bark, either already familiar with the forms or bonded personally once they clamp onto the roots of your neurons. They repeat themselves throughout, like recurring species of birds (maybe corvids, maybe crows) adorning a sweeping oak tree. And, as it tends to go, the human mind will take keen notes of these repetitions, no matter what they are.
You imagine that must be why your eyes are trailing Karasu for maybe the twenty second time this month. He steps past your classroom with his hands resting in his pockets in that faux casualty and hair in that strange shape you can't seem to hate. Your eyes lull from beneath your lashes. You don’t know why he’s there, just that, recently, every time he is, you manage to spot him with seamless ease. Something quite abnormal when the scale of your school is considered.
To think it began with one measly conversation back in July. You can hardly recall what was being discussed; perhaps impending exams, or extracurriculars, or other things that don’t really matter. There’s only one thing you can confidently claim that you did not discuss, which was the way your friendship eroded away over the course of time. It isn’t any surprise, it’s always a universally unspoken habit of everyone to avoid talking about the nature of a relationship. That’s why people are usually so terrible with it. (You might be one of the worst.)
You forgot how the chat came to be as well. Something tells you it was the fault of the mild overlap of your social circles and the intervention of your best friends, but you aren’t very sure. All you know is that you don’t want to be seeing his face everywhere you go because whatever familiarity stirs only seems to translate into a heavy weight that envelopes your heart.
“[Last Name], what’s the answer to Question B?”
Blatantly ignoring the screams of “oh shit” droning on in your head as a resultant of your teachers words, you flick your gaze down at your textbook. The pages are slightly crinkled, little marks indicating where your pen pressed down too hard.
“Twenty-eight,” you reply in the smoothest tone you can muster, reading the scribbly drawl of your handwriting aloud.
“Correct,” she hums, flipping off the whiteboard pen with a dull click.
You lull your head on the palm of your hand. In all honesty, you’re mostly just being dramatic. Neither you or Karasu are bitter or anything, you personally just hold an immense disdain to growing up and apart. Whether that is limited to the said boy is something you don’t currently know, or ever intend to, really.
A small huff escapes from beneath your breath, so faint that you yourself barely manage to hear it. Pondering never does seem to do any good, not when you’re like this anyway.
A couple more questions and answers sprout within the room as your musings begin to tug on their own curtains.
The sharp ringing of the bell pierces throughout the school, signifying the long due arrival of break. Only a few seconds pass before the sound is replaced by an eruption of shoes squeaking against the floorboards and scraping of chairs as they slide into their designated spots beneath the desks.
“Make sure you do Chapter Thirteen everyone,” your teacher calls out to the class, meeting a few words of acceptance and several exasperated groans. The room trickles into emptiness as you take your time packing up, finger twitching mildly as you pull the zip of your bag closed.
Miriku leans against your desk slightly when she steps over, a smile spread across her lips. “You were staring at Karasu when he walked past.”
“Huh? No, I wasn’t,” you deny, moreso trying to defend yourself from whatever implications the statement had than the action itself.
“Liar,” she hums. “What’s up with you and him anyway.”
“Nothing. I was just surprised, I guess. I’ve been seeing him around a lot recently,” you say honestly, hanging your bag over your shoulder. It brushes against your uniform softly.
“Noticing …” she muses.
You jab her playfully in the arm as a response, “Let’s just go, I don’t really wanna stay in this classroom any longer.”
She smirks at your swift change of subject, slinging her arm around you as you both walk out the class, “If you say so then.” You don’t react to the motion, plenty used to her tactile affection. “I do say so.”
“Anyway,” she began, “Sora said she’d meet us at the rooftop a little late.”
“Hm, how come?”
“Something about organising an event with her teacher.”
You blink. “Oh, right. She did mention that.”
“Mhm.”
The two of you make your way down the stairs, chattering about idle topics as you weave through the mob of students. The buzz of their conversations blend with yours, causing some words to be lost in translation.
“Blending greens?”
“Huh? How’d you get that,” she laughed, the sound coming out like distant bell chimes. “I said I’m gonna buy something from the vending machine. Want anything?”
“Eh, I’m alright for today.” You paused in thought, a few people brushing past, “I’ll wait by the wall over there since it’s kinda crowded here.”
“Okay,” she replies before bounding over towards the machine. Its effulgent light illuminates the space ahead of it, spurring a gentle glow to dance over the small cluster of students there. You observe for a moment before stepping in the opposite direction.
You aren’t too sure what has caused a horde inside, but from the disgruntled complaints you’ve picked up on, it appears to just be the seemingly dull cloudy weather. It’s apparent that this summer has been nothing short of gloom, with glum tufts of clouds constantly wading throughout the sky and prohibiting the sun to shine its radiance upon the land. Frankly though, the matters of the weather have never really bothered you. Save for the rain.
Your body stiffens the mildest bit as you glance across the wall, spotting an all so exasperated Karasu stare into one of the classrooms with someone else's bag sitting in his hand. You recognise it to be Otoya’s distinctly green one.
“Hi Karasu,” you greet, eyes drifting away as you lean on the wall beside him. Miriku was now chatting to someone by the vending machine, it was hard to tell whether it was intentional that she was leaving you here momentarily.
“Hey,” he responded in a lacksidal tone, glancing at you briefly.
“How’ve you been?” you ask after a long moment.
“Yeah, good,” he replies. “You?”
“Fine,” you mutter beneath your breath. You wonder if the word even meets Karasu’s ears. Your gaze flicks over towards him, and for some reason, you begin to feel like every so-called frequent illusion has been nothing but a cover for something you refrain from addressing.
He sends you a sidelong glance, the blues of his eyes stirring with uncertainty under the weight of your stare.
“Is something bothering you? Ya seem a little off.”
—
“Is something bothering you? Ya seem a little off,” he asked.
“Just, didn’t do so well on a test,” you admitted in response, throwing your sweater on carelessly. “You’ve also been acting kinda off anyway.”
“Hm? You think so?”
“Yeah, it feels like you’ve been avoiding me a little,” you trail off into a murmur, mild embarrassment playing over your expression. Fortunately, the cloth you shimmy on conceals it, but you still feel the heat creeping along your neck.
“Oh,” he hummed, a small grin breaking across his lips. “So you’ve missed me?”
“Hey, don’t twist my words,” you replied, adjusting the jumper as it hugs around your torso.
He chuckled softly before fading into a quiet sincerity, “Sorry, I haven’t been meaning to or anything.” The moment swells. “Soccer has just kept me busy ‘nd stuff,” he added vaguely.
“Nah, it’s fine.” The leaves crunched as you shifted on your feet, the sound blending into the trees' agitation. A playful smile formed on your face. “Though, I suppose a good compensation would be if you bought me something from the vending machine,” you suggest in faux contemplation, scratching your chin to emphasise the point.
He let out a huff of amusement, “I suppose so. What d’ya want to buy?”
“Yakult, obviously,” you said.
—
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me,” you answer easily.
He blinks at you, mumbling a weak word of compliance. He wonders if you know how weirdly difficult it is for him to do; to not think of you.
As you peel yourself away from the wall slowly, you take a discreet glance at him. Sunlight streams in from behind, casting a tender glow across his expression, one entirely incoherent to you now. The light traces along his fine cutting features, and you can only really think about how different he seems to be from a couple years ago. A difference that goes beyond physical appearance and how he carries himself, but not one you could really explain. You imagine that he probably feels the exact same way about you. Something strange, twinged with SORROW twists in the center of your heart at that prospect. Like a needle too precise to ever extract.
Your eyes flit to the window behind him momentarily. A flash of black goes by, the shape indicating a single crow flying past. You have an inexplicable suspicion that that, too, may become something you start noticing quite frequently in your mind. “See you, Karasu,” you eventually say, walking off to Miriku as her own conversation draws to an end.
“See ya,” he returns, gaze flicking away from your receding figure instinctively. Otoya still seems to be chatting up that girl in the classroom.
Moments such as these are ones that, unbeknownst to each other, you both actively avoid dwelling too far on. It isn’t as if there is much to think about anyway, for, they simply are what they are. (So it goes.)
authors note ╱ oh brother... we got two yearnatron 3000s here...
anyway, swear on my soul my writing will improve as this goes on because 😥
also, in case it was too vague, the interaction between the cuts was a memory
Anyways, I'll try to get myself back into writing!! And so, i prepared a small writing game :3
Yall can send me a request for a short scene with your chosen character! The thing is:
You send me your fav character, and some info about yourself/or ur self insert (anything u want! like appearance, or hobbies) and I'll write you a short scene of you with the character.
I'll write for:
Blue Lock
Demon Slayer
Jujutsu Kaisen
Eventually something from other animes
My account is practically dead so it will be hard but i rlly need a distraction 💔
sasdavvero Blue Lock FF masterlist — FF not in a series ; 2023
— complete masterlist
FF not in a series ; 2024
FF not in a series ; 2025
FF not in a series ; 2026
Blue Lock FF masterlist — BLLK Series
I will gradually check the links to see if they all still work (i copy pasted them). If anything doesn't, you can send me an ask about it! :>
Created: 13/06/2025
2023
Can I?: flashfic, Bachisagi, fluff, first kiss [eng-tumblr post/ita-efp]
How to win someone over in one afternoon: a Guide by Isagi Yoichi: Bachisagi, fluff, slice of life, dates, first kiss [tumblr post/eng/ita-ao3/ita-efp/ita-wattpad]
Shattered Glass Means It's Already Broken (It Doesn't Mean It Can't Be Fixed): Bachisagi, Soulmates AU, angst and fluff [tumblr post/eng/ita-efp/ita-wattpad]
Cheers: flashfic, Bachisagi, first kiss [tumblr post]
The Languages of Soccer: Gen, Crack, Languages mix [tumblr post/eng]
