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amateurasterism · 1 year

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Hey do you still take requests? Because i was reading your work and god you are mind-blowing!So I've been thinking about this so long and i couldn't find much on this topic so i thought that maybe Junhui/Jeonghan as dad??!! No cuz seriously that will be soo damn cute! And again your work is amazing!

omg tysm you’re so sweet!! i lovee this request. sorry for the delay ap exams are a pain lmfao

dad headcanons —y.jh + w.jh

yoon jeonghan.

— not a single doubt this man is a girl dad. have you seen him

— his daughter is a carbon copy of him too. together they’re…a nightmare, to say the least

— you are foolish to think you’re safe from yoon jeonghan’s infamous shenanigans after giving birth to his child. in fact, you start to think they’ve escalated now that jeonghan has acquired his best partner in crime

— this tiktok absolutely happened

“oh no.”

after being married to him, you already know it’s bad when jeonghan opens the door with that certain cheeky smile. he’s wearing it now as he greets you home from work, so you ignore his words and brace yourself as you scan the house of which room happened to be the victim this time.

you realize upon seeing your daughter drenched in flour that it was the poor kitchen. the counters and cabinets now a white snowy wonderland, freckled with the all-too familiar shape of your husband and daughter’s hands.

you can’t find anything to say, watching deadpanned as your husband smiles and picks up your daughter, who is smiling at you with the same smile as her dad. she waves her flour-covered hands to try to get you closer.

“yoon jeonghan.”

“our daughter is so clumsy, i wonder what happened,” he jokes, walking towards you to fulfill your daughter’s wishes of smothering you in a hug.

you try to back off before the flour can reach you, but suddenly jeonghan’s hand is twining around your waist and pulling you to his side. in the same moment, your daughter traps you and jeonghan in a hug, drenching you all in flour.

you open your mouth to scold them both, but the words melt and reform as hearty laughter. how could you not, when jeonghan kisses the flour off the tip of your nose and your daughter is bubbling with giggles?

— the type of dad to make tell you not to be worried when your daughter goes to school for the first time but you see damn well how he’s holding in tears as he sits on the couch, eyes focused on the painfully lonely toys on the living room rug and the irking silence of the house. all he can think about is how incomplete he feels without his daughter, his ray of light, beside him

— never outwardly mentions it but he has every trait your daughter inherited from you memorized

“babe, i can’t find our daughter. there are so many kids!”

your husband spares you a quick glance in which you catch that all-knowing smirk plastered on his lips. “she’s right there.” he waves to a girl in the sea of children, and sure enough your daughter comes running into his arms.

“how did you see her so easily?”

“easy. she has the same mole on her temple and tilts her head when she’s lost, like you.”

— sometimes too lazy to get up from bed so on weekends you’ll find him and your baby still passed out in bed in the middle of the day. jeonghan’s limbs are scrambled in the sheets in outrageous angles, your daughter is sprawled similarly over his stomach, pacifier abandoned and allowing drool to touch jeonghan’s shirt. the window allows their bodies to bask in pure sunlight, matching the innocent smiles on their slumbering faces, their identical snores synced and echoing through the house.

— the moment your daughter made her first sound, jeonghan was all over her spamming the word “daddy.” made it a competition between you and him on if she would say “mommy” or “daddy” first and betted on the loser having to pay for a fancy dinner date even though he ended up paying regardless of the winner because he’s a simp duh. he was so determined to win to the point you were wishing she would say “daddy” already before you would go insane you swear the word was even echoing in your sleep

“da-ddy. da-ddy.” jeonghan repeats to your daughter, only to be met with her clueless stare, not a single thought behind those widened eyes.

“like me. da-ddy.”

“da…” your daughter trails off, more focused on her toys than her father’s antics.

“yes! da-ddy.”

“love, please shut up,” you mutter from the couch irritatedly. at first it was cute, but you’re starting to go crazy after hearing it for an hour straight.

“i’m about to make her say daddy!”

you roll your eyes in annoyance, though your lips betray you with the way they turn upwards in a smile at the sight of your husband sat cross-legged beside your toddler, staring at her with the most loving look as they play.

“daddy!” your daughter exclaims suddenly.

jeonghan cheers and tosses her in his arms, holding her high up and peppering kisses on her face. “yes!” he turns to your smiling face, “i win!”

but with the look on jeonghan’s face, you can’t find yourself to be mad about the bet at all.

“say it again!”

— feeds her a bit of junk food when you can’t see

— secretly overprotective. on the outside, he’s a pretty laid back dad but the moment he senses something off with his daughter, it’s over

— the type of dad to say “no boyfriends until you’re 20” HAHAH but doesn’t really mean it

— overall such a playful, laid back, caring dad who causes more mischief with his child than you signed up for. but really, you couldn’t ask for anything more

wen junhui.

— boy dad. case closed

— no bc he’d be such a sweet dad are you kidding

— i feel like he’d try making homemade baby-food when he doesn’t have any thing else to do

what is that smell? is the first thing you think when opening the door of your house after work.

your nose leads you straight to the kitchen, and low and behold is jun, surrounded by various chopped vegetables and stirring a small boiling pot.

“what’s this new recipe?” you ask, sliding your arms through his and leaning your head into the crook of his neck.

“oh! hi, love! you scared me,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head and pausing his stirring for a moment to rub your arms. “it’s homemade baby food. i thought i’d try it for fun.”

you smile into his skin and press a few chaste kisses there. “i remember you cooking a meal for me the first time i came over. it was one you made yourself and you were really proud of it so i never told you i thought it was too spicy.”

jun’s ears flush red. “stop trying to make me feel bad by reminding me!”

you laugh tenderly and kiss his lips. “would never. you know i love your cooking, and i’m sure our son will too.”

— really good at keeping a happy expression on for your son but inside is a whole other story. inside, he’s flooding with tears because his son is already walking through the gates of preschool when he swears just the other day he was glued to you and your son on the living room couch mere days after coming home from the hospital

— he’s always gotten you “just because” flowers so now what you have a son, he’ll come home from father-son days with a bouquet they both picked out

— always up to do whatever his son wants to do no matter what. finger painting? the paint is ready to go

— lovesss playing/teaching his son old games from his childhood. sometimes you’ll come home to see them in the backyard, running back and forth in a game of red light green light, jun’s favorite

“i’m home!” you shout upon opening the front door, expecting you son to come running into your arms with jun wrapping you all in a family hug as usual, but no response.

you presumed they were playing a hide-and-seek game with you, yet even after searching the whole house, they’re still missing. odd.

the one last place you haven’t checked if the backyard. sure enough, there is your husband, eyes shut and faded away from your son who is currently frozen in mid-run.

“red light!” jun turns around, expecting to catch his son moving, but instead is met by your face inches from his. “welcome home, love—”

interrupting, you kiss his lips which are parted from surprise. when you pull away, jun finds himself a bit carried away from the game, only remembering when your son pulls his attention back from the taste of your mixed berry chapstick.

“ewwww!! mommy and daddy are kissing!” the child yells in disgust, running away and forgetting his role of staying still in the game.

jun presses another slow kiss to your lips before chasing his son into a tackle on the living room carpet. “hey! come back! you moved while i turned around, you lost!”

— there’s a painting of the first park you went to as a family in the living room that jun painted with the help of your son (meaning it has a couple smears from his tiny fingers trying to help his dad out)

— often you’ll wake up in the morning without jun’s body beside yours, only to find him knocked out, cuddled beside your son in his bed with an abandoned book he’d been reading to him last night

— you know those random games toddlers have downloaded on their ipads? yeah, jun is addicted to those

“dinner’s ready!”

“we’ll be there!” jun replies from the living room, followed by the sounds of frantic tapping on a screen.

“daddy, you suck at this game!” his son laughs heartily, watching him struggle to beat the current level of this game.

jun ignores the rude comment and watches as his character falls again. his son grabs the ipad and finishes it with ease only to look back up at his gaping dad.

“how did you do that so easily?! you’re only four!” jun teases, attacking his son in tickles. just before he can reach his most ticklish spot, your voice is heard from the kitchen.

“i said dinner was ready five minutes ago! the food is cold!”

“coming!”

— tries to help your son with homework but is struggling just as bad. you’ve scolded them multiple times for finding disregarded math papers on the dining table and them watching tv on the couch

— he is constantly carrying her. everywhere. especially piggy-back rides, those are their favorite

— overall the sweetest dad ever, does everything he can to be the best dad and the work shows. junhui best man ever

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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gojo satoru, yuji itadori, FUSHIGURO TOJI, MICHEAL KAISER, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, REO MIKAGE, bachira meguru, tendou satori, ATSUMU MIYA, suna rintaro, tetsuro kuroo, OIKAWA TORU, tsukishima kei, DAZAI OSAMU, fyodor dostoevsky, jean kirschtein, eren yeager

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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“nagi, babe, look up for a sec. i wanna show you something,” you coaxed the sleepy male to lift his head from your lap, fingers running through his hair. he rested his chin on your thigh, eyebrows narrowing as he read your laptop screen.

“men i would replace my boyfriend with?” he mumbled the title of the presentation that took up your screen, a long sigh leaving him after he finished. “don’t wanna watch. you’re dumb.” he lowered his head onto your lap once again.

“please,” you dragged the word out, shaking his shoulders as you did so. “you’ll like it, promise.” he let out a groan, lazily picking his head up once more to look at your screen.

“‘kay.” he gave in, knowing you wouldn’t back down anytime soon. you had to bite back a smile seeing his sleepy and annoyed face.

“men i would replace my boyfriend for,” you started off by repeating the title slide before clicking to the next, “nobody. my boyfriend is top-tier.” nagi still held his peeved face, hand reaching up to click the next slide, which was blank. “did you really think i would put someone else?” you asked, feigning hurt.

his only response was to click to the slide after that, still skeptical of this whole presentation. thankfully, it was also blank. “see? you’re the best boyfriend i could ask for,” he only hummed in response, looking up at you while reaching for your chin to pull you in for a kiss. you, of course, obliged, trying your best to hold back your smile as you clicked to the next slide. he peeked one eye open to look at your laptop, now seeing a picture of reo.

“really?” he immediately pushed you away, annoyed expression making its way back on his face. at that point you were letting all your giggles loose, nagi pushing himself off of you.

“it’s because he’s rich!” you quickly added, making sure you explained yourself before he could walk off. he whipped his head around looking offended.

“‘m rich too!”

“you refused to buy that plushie for me last week!” you fought back, smile still wide on your face.

“because you’ll cuddle with it instead of me,” he mumbled, pout spreading on his lips as he thought of the sight. you gave a small giggle, your hand snaking behind his neck to push him back towards you.

“i could never replace you, my big baby,” your soft tone is what pulled nagi back into you, his head dropping on your chest as his arms wrapped around you.

“you did with that one dino plushie,” he sighed at the memory, relaxing in your touch. you had both gone quiet at that statement, your hands occupied with scratching his scalp. he had thought it was finally time to nap, letting his eyes close.

“hey…whatever happened to my dino plushie?”

uh oh.

thanks for reading!

#reblogs !

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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accidental confessions

a/n: I keep seeing this for many different fandoms and I thought they were so cute!! i hope you like these lovelies mwuah

#reblogs !#I WANT RIN SO BADDD

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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soukoku spiderman kiss…chuuya as spiderman…dazai smirking as he pulls down his mask…

#idk if this has been done before #pls tag me if it has #soukoku #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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he hates himself for not being able to talk. obviously, he can speak, but not in the way he wants—not in the way where he can outwardly illustrate in words how much he adores your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your everything. he tells you this, and you’re always reassuring him that its okay; you understand he isn’t the best at these things given his troubled past. but what you don’t tell him is that he doesn’t need to tell you his feelings in words because its written plainly in his actions. it’s written in the way his eyes crinkle at jokes only when you’re laughing, and the way he watches intently at your every move and reacts if your body is too close to the corner of the table or stairs. in the way his mouth opens ever so slightly when you wear that dress he loves so much and the tracing of your name on your back when he’s anxious. thus, despite his doubtful mind, you know he loves you. nonetheless, every so often you two will lay in bed, waist cradled between his arms, eyes shut in false slumber as you listen to his rambling. “i love you. a lot. i’m sorry i don’t say it enough. do i deserve you? sometimes i feel selfish for keeping your perfection to myself. someday i’ll get over myself and find out how to tell you how much i love your eyes, your face when you’re excited over the things you like, and the way you’re so understanding over everything. i’ll love you forever. i hope that’s obvious.” the confession is so quiet, you can’t be sure if it’s real, but it’s enough for a smile to ghost your lips as you turn around to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “i love you too.” “you were awake?!”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI, okkotsu yuuta, kagami taiga, ITOSHI RIN, nagi seishiro, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, kozume kenma, tsukishima kei, chuuya nakahara, akutagawa ryunoske, ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, levi ackerman, armin arlert

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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“I would lick the sweat off his thighs.”

chop

The knife barely misses the tip of Osamu’s finger as your voice, one of his regulars, slips through the crowd.

Onigiri Miya is packed with people watching tonight’s MSBY match and Osamu spares a quick glance your way.

You’re staring heatedly at the game with a few of your friends and tracing the rim of your glass.

“As if he’d let you,” one of your friends says with a smirk.

You snort. “Of course not. But god if he did, I’d lick him clean.”

Your friends laugh.

Osamu wants to know who you’re talking about but the crowd swallows the rest of what you’re saying.

Damn.

Obviously it’s a Jackal because you’re always in their merch but there’s never a name. No number. And you’re one of the few regulars-and-MSBY-fans who hasn’t tried to weasel their way into meeting the team through Osamu.

He enjoys having you in the shop because you get along with everyone and you’re one of the few people he considers a friend outside of the business owner-patron relationship so he can’t help it.

He’s curious.

He waits for clues as to who you were talking about but you don’t give anything away; you shout and cheer for everyone.

He fills more orders, deftly manages his staff, and takes an opportunity to walk the floor.

“How’re the boys doin’?” he asks when he stops by your table.

Your group shifts to include him, a few of your friends hungrily eyeing his fitted black t-shirt. “Not as good as you, handsome.”

He smirks appreciatively. “Obviously.” Then he juts his chin at the screen. “But they’re in the lead, at least. ‘Tsumu givin’ them any trouble?”

You snicker. “Nothing more than usual.”

Osamu nods, trying to hold back another smirk as he asks the group “did I hear somethin’ about one of them sweatin’?”

Your friends crow salaciously and turn to you as you suck your lips in, eyes bulging.

“OOOH, He heard y-” One of them breaks off with a lurch like you’ve kicked them under the table as another jeers.

“Why? You jealous, Miya?” They wiggle their eyebrows. “You miss being oogled?”

He chuckles lowly and puts a hand on the back of your chair, noticing the way you’re avoiding his eye. “And who exactly are y’all ooglin’? Better not be ma dumb brother.”

“Never!” One of them leans forward as if they’re going to gush but you flick their forehead.

“No one.” You insist with a threatening smile to your friends. “You didn’t hear anything.”

Osamu snorts. “Sure I didn’t.” Feeling high from the thrill of your friends’ flirting he can’t help himself. “I must’a just imagined that comment about someone’s thighs.”

Your friends let out a synchronized cheer and you drop your forehead into your hands.

Osamu laughs but one of his workers calls him away before he can give you any more trouble.

The Jackals win and–to Osamu’s relief–you and your friends stay after the game. A lot of people do, too, caught up in the high of victory as interviews with the athletes play.

Osamu sneaks a text to his twin.

The restaurant’s still full when the team comes in to a raucous cheer and more rounds are ordered. Energy picking up like a second wind.

Atsumu greets his twin with a hug and whispers "which one?”

When they part Osamu directs him to you and your group of friends; Atsumu flicks his brow with a grin and Osamu feels like he’s back in high school.

“Heard we have some fans here,” he says sauntering over as your group shifts to welcome him like you did for Osamu. “Did y’all watch?”

“Of course we did!” one of your friends replies with a starry expression. “You were amazing!”

“Thank you, thank you.” He beams. “It was a very ex-thigh-ting game, if I say so myself.”

Osamu guffaws and chokes on a laugh as your blazing eyes immediately flick to him; your friends’ laughter encourages the setter.

“Did ya see my startl-lick-ing row of service aces in the second set?”

Their laughter roars and your eye twitches, expression scrunching at Osamu who looks away pointedly, torn between guilt and enjoyment.

“Sweat-sational, I’d say. Wouldn’t all of you?”

Osamu cringes internally; that one was a stretch but it was the final straw for you. As your friends break down to tears laughing you shove your chair back and storm away from the table making a straight line toward Osamu.

“Really?” you demand hotly and Osamu feels a fleeting moment of doubt. “You had to tell him?”

“Dunno what yer talkin’ about.” He shrugs innocently. “I didn’t hear anythin’.”

“Obviously you did,” you say tersely, dropping your voice leaning in. “Did you tell him just to make fun of me?!”

“No,” he says trying to sound lighthearted, “I was just try'na get them here so ya could meet whichever athlete it was ya wanted to be licking.”

For a moment he savors the way you gulp under his heavy, hooded gaze until a smirk slowly spreads across your own face.

“I wasn’t talking about an athlete.”

Heart pounding he looks down at the onigiri in his hands. “Oh no? Well who, then?”

You lean over the counter a little further, lowering your voice for only him to hear. “You, obviously.”

#reblogs !

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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BUNGO STRAY DOGS.

drabbles.

— your parents always thought.

— everyone knew he was attractive.

— he hates himself for not being able to talk.

#asters.masterlists

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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a/n: omg? did somebody say spiderrin? *hides away* (no beta we die like megumi)

after hours of working on your homework, it was finally time for bed. looking at the clock beside your nightstand, ‘2:47 am’ it read. man, school is out for you. you swear you could sleep for days and not wake up when it’s vacation time.

you made your way to the bathroom in your room, flicking on the lights before grabbing a cat eared headband so you can wash your face. rinsing your face, you grab the towel to wipe the water off your face. three knocks disturb your peace in the bathroom. carefully, you tiptoe towards your room, catching a glimpse of a figure hunched over your window.

in silent panic, you grabbed your phone and dialed rin. you flinched when you heard rings coming from the window’s direction. no way..

stomping over, you slid your window open and rin’s figure came stumbling over you.

“rin? come on, babe. you can’t die on my carpet floor. mom will kill me.” you hear him huff above you, his body weight completely slumped on your own. rin pulls away slightly. “i’m dying and you’re worried about leaving blood stains on your floor?” he sees you gasp upon seeing his face. bloodied and bruised, the villain he encountered packed quite a punch.

“oh god–”

“praying to me now, aren’t you?”

“rin shut up, you look horrible. now get up, i need to get my kit.”

rin hastily gets up and leans on the wall instead. a hand clutched to his side, covered in blood and his suit has tears and scuffs everywhere. second by second, he takes in deep breaths. the aftermath of the fight slowly catching up to him. although he has regenerative abilities from when he got bit by a radioactive spider, rin will be lying if he says it doesn’t hurt one bit. because it hurts. a lot. it’s like getting thrown off a plane and getting hit by a six wheeler truck once you’ve dropped down on land.

your footsteps ring in his ear. soon, he feels hands on the sides of his face, holding him still.

“rin? honey, you gotta stay awake. just so you know, i am not gonna carry your ass on the bed.”

“can you not.. be mean? i'm a patient.”

it was silent while you were patching him up. focused and not saying anything as you dab the alcohol soaked cotton on his wound. rin gazes at you with half lidded eyes. in a way, he feels bad. he shouldn’t have come here. he shouldn’t have knocked on your window.

“are you mad?” rin asks you in a hushed voice, he looks away when you turn your head to him. scared that you’ll see through him if he dared look you in the eye. afraid that you’ll see just how scared he was when he was fighting a villain, hiding his fears behind that mask of his. being a hero is a double edged sword. he fights the villains and saves the people but who’ll fight his villains and save him?

“mad? why would i be mad? if anything i’m actually pretty concerned right now. i don’t want to have an ex-boyfriend just because he died while bleeding on my floors.” you place a band aid over his nose, pecking it after. you smile at him when you pull away, brushing his hair and tucking it behind his ear.

“so, can you take your shirt off by yourself or do you need my help?”

“hands off. i’ll change on my own.”

yeah, maybe you’ll be the one to save him, rin thinks.

“none of this would’ve happened if you just let me be your guy-in-the-chair.”

or maybe not.

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

#reblogs !

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amateurasterism · 1 year

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what it means to believe.

synopsis ; itoshi sae doesn’t believe you and him could exist. but the universe is against him and helps him realize that maybe it can.

pairing ; itoshi sae + fem!reader

notes ; dramatic!sae, possible ooc!sae, a LOT of pining, angst?? idk, fluff, cute lil brother rin, strangers to friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fake dating. first bllk fic yuhh

word count ; 4.2k

SIXTEEN.

itoshi sae wants you. but he knows all too well that even though you’d make him a good person, he makes you a bad person. he’s not good enough for you.

which is why you believe itoshi hates you.

every day he enters your classroom, those pretty teal eyes not sparing even a flicker towards you, despite the fact you sat next to him.

that is exactly sae’s problem—he’s hanging on the edge of a cliff, sitting here next to you. he’s holding on to his final pieces of dignity just trying not to turn around and look at your pretty face.

as much as it twists his blocked off heart, he settles with your fallen lips and downturned eyes because he’d rather you hate him than let himself fall into your innocent smile. he wouldn’t fill you with that false hope, because in the end he’d ruin you.

you didn’t deserve someone who would prioritize a sport over relationships. soccer meant too much to him.

SEVENTEEN.

he told himself he wouldn’t get attached, but deep down he knew somehow, because fate had its ways, he would. he always knew at some point, he would fall from that ledge he’d been hanging on since he was sixteen.

turns out, he was falling today.

ring! ring!

“rin! go open the door, that’s your new babysitter,” mrs. itoshi calls from the living room. she turns to her older son, “can you go with him, sae?”

internally groaning, sae gets up and follows his green-haired brother to the gigantic front door of their luxurious house. to his surprise, rin was already there, chatting cheerfully with his new babysitter. odd—rin wasn’t usually chatty with his caretakers.

“i know you!” rin jumps, pointing to the babysitter’s face. sae wonders who it must be for rin to recognize you so excitedly.

“oh really? where from?” the voice is sweet, sounding too much like something sae knew all too well—

“my brother’s phone! he says you’re the prettiest girl—”

before rin can finish, sae appears in the doorway, hand over his brother’s mouth and ears blending into his pink hair. you stare at the sight, eyes wide in bewilderment.

“stop lying,” sae says firmly. “i never said that.”

rin whacks sae’s hand off. “you did, though.”

“i’ll play soccer with you later if you don’t talk about it.”

you watch, amazed, as rin looks up at his brother in utmost adoration and disbelief, “promise?”

sae nods, and rin runs away with the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

now, it was just you and sae. you and the guy you were convinced hated you. sae and the girl who soccer stood in the way of. in another universe, one where sae didn’t love soccer as much as he did, he thinks you could be standing here as part of the itoshi family, rather than just “rin’s new babysitter.”

but it seemed like this universe was against sae, because he just about died inside when you smirked at him, voice full of mocking as you say, “so, the prettiest, hm?”

his hand let go of the cliff in that moment, and he knew he was screwed.

EIGHTEEN.

you’ve been rin’s longest-standing babysitter thus far, lasting a year now. but you’re not sure if it’s because you’re a special babysitter, or because you happen to be attracted to rin’s older brother.

you were seventeen when you were sure itoshi sae hated you.

but now you’re eighteen and believe something exists between you.

you’d be stupid not to. stupid not to notice the way he greeted you at the front door every time you came over, his teal eyes flitting to you whenever he came home to the sight of you and rin playing soccer in the backyard, your favorite snacks you only told him about always fully stocked in their pantry. and especially stupid to not notice the smiles he let escape his lips whenever you made an effort to talk to him before you left. it made you feel special knowing you were the only person at school who knew that smile.

but then you realize; maybe you were stupid. because somehow, without knowing, you managed to fumble and a week after sae’s eighteenth birthday, he disappeared.

sae could tell you thought you were stupid. he knew from the fallen smile every time you watched him head straight to his room and hide when he came home, acting like you weren’t there. slowly returning to the ignorance you thought you’d escaped when you were seventeen.

he wishes he could tell you that in truth, he was the stupid one. stupid for allowing those heart-turning moments to happen. he hates himself for being so stupid.

because he knew you and him—“us”—couldn’t exist. together wasn’t fate. he hates himself for not having enough self-restraint to stop talking to you, giving you that hopeful shine in your eyes, when he knew this would happen the whole time.

“this” being soccer. fuck. it was always soccer for him.

which is why it didn’t take him a second thought to accept the letter in his hands inviting him to play for the royales in spain. the flight was already two months from now.

so sae used every ounce of self-restraint his body owned, and left you alone for two months. still, he couldn’t help himself from watching through his bedroom window as you and rin played soccer, wishing that proud look in your eyes every time rin scored a perfect goal would be coming with him to cheer him on in the frontlines in spain instead.

two months later, a week after landing in spain, you still haven’t left sae’s mind. he knew he distanced from you in his last months in japan, trying to nonverbally tell you that together wouldn’t happen for you two; yet you wouldn’t listen. of course you didn’t. hopeful, cheerful you wouldn’t let go of him that easily.

so he allows himself this once to look at the message you sent him, asking to talk, at a photo he took of you that week before he ceased to be in your life. as he leaves the messages on sent, watching the date under your last text get further in the past, he realizes that now you’re really gone. he misses those scraps of together you had.

hah. he could almost laugh at how cruel the world was for giving you both a taste of what could’ve been.

TWENTY-ONE.

at twenty-one, itoshi sae has become one of the world’s best midfielders. and with that, of course came delusional and obsessive fans.

he hadn’t properly dated anyone since he’d moved abroad—didn’t care enough for more than an occasional one-night stand. soccer took up his time anyways.

but part of him wonders that maybe, in those small moments with you so long ago when you were seventeen, part of him allowed himself to save himself for you. not that he would ever admit it.

nonetheless, his media manager wouldn’t allow him to say he didn’t care, so he begrudgingly agreed to respond with “it’s none of your business who i’m dating.” when the painfully annoying interviewers bombard him with personal questions after every game.

unfortunately, his media manager was getting tired. “you need to spark some rumors to the public, sae. the fans will get bored.”

“rumors about my love life have nothing to do with soccer. if all the fans want are updates on my love life, then they shouldn’t be fangirling over a soccer player.”

“you have the business party tomorrow night. how about i sign you up with someone to bring? you don’t need to talk or anything. just stay with her for the night. it will at least help your image with the soccer companies.”

sae didn’t have the energy for arguing. “i’ll do it as long as i get to choose who i’m bringing.” his manager lit up at the agreement.

later, sae realizes as he knocks on his apartment neighbor’s door in search of a fake date, that this is the stupidest thing he could be doing. he could only hope his neighbor wasn’t some old man and he wasn’t about to get in more trouble than he signed up for.

luckily, it wasn’t. in fact, it was you.

sae swears he nearly faints. you watch, jaw unhinged in pure disbelief as his teal eyes blink twice before returning to their original stoic expression. three years older than you were when he left, he notices you’ve matured, somehow prettier. he didn’t know that was possible.

“sae?” you squeak. god, he missed that so much. missed the way his name rolled of your tongue and how you’d have to look up him with that hopeful expression of yours every time you said it.

“y/n.” he had practiced how to ask on his way home, but didn’t expect to be saying it to you standing in the apartment complex hallway wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt. all the words disintegrate on his tongue. “i need a fake date for a business party tomorrow.” he wants so slap himself for sounding so dumb. what happened to “hi! how are you?”

it takes a while for you to register his words. you’re a bit shocked, not only that sae was here, in front of you, after three years, but also because all the interviews led you to believe he had a girlfriend. you wouldn’t be lying if you said you weren’t glad at the fact he was single. “oh! i would, but i just moved in yesterday…i don’t have anything nice to wear.”

he watches your smile falter the slightest bit, feeding his sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, you wanted to go with him. he’s so selfish for this, letting you back into his life and feeding your hope again, even knowing he wasn’t right for you. “wait.”

he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and shuffling through to find two 100 dollar bills, handing them to you. “here. buy yourself something nice. i’ll pick you up here at 6:30 PM tomorrow.”

“are you sure?” you hand back one of the bills. “i don’t need that much.”

“no. i’m sure.” he gulps. does he sound desperate? “treat yourself to something nice.”

“we’ll, if you insist. thank you, sae! i’ll see you tomorrow. it was nice seeing you after so long,” you smile up at him, and sae has to fight back his own.

“yeah. thank you.”

you shut the door. for a moment sae stands in the empty hallway, staring at your door.

the universe really was against him, leading you back to him after he detached himself so long ago.

after a restless night of thinking about a certain someone and a morning practice in which his teammates picked at him for being out of the game for some reason, it was finally time for the dinner party. he knocks on your door, and when you open it, his mind goes blank at the sight of you. he thinks he’s going insane.

how could he not, when you’re standing there looking like that. he’s glad he let you treat yourself, because you choose a dress in a color that complimented your skintone and hugged the shape of your body perfectly. he doesn’t know how it’s possible, but the makeup you put on made you look even prettier, even under the dull apartment hallway lighting.

he still isn’t over how breathtaking you are three hours into the party. true to fake dating fashion, you and sae stay next to each other the entire night, occasionally drifting into separate conversations. you find that many people are quite interested in you and sae’s “relationship” since he’d been so secretive of it. thankfully, on the car ride to the party you and sae had figured out your fake backstory. although it wasn’t so fake, considering you told them you were childhood best friends and happened to reunite due to both of you going abroad for soccer and college.

being with you the entire night filled the void in sae’s heart that had settled when he left you in japan. being around you reminded him that happiness is a thing that just, exists. he thought soccer was enough to make him feel whole, but you brought in so many emotions he couldn’t feel with anything or anyone else.

so later that night, when you’re too drunk to be alone, sae lets you lean against him on the way to your apartment, lets you pull him into the couch with him and wrap his arms around you because it felt right. when he feels you fall asleep in his arms, he knows he’s doomed for anyone else’s embrace. no one can compare to you.

TWENTY-TWO.

“do you really want to do this?” sae whispers into your ear.

“shut up and kiss me, everyone’s staring.”

you lean in, hand tugging on the black tie of the suit he was wearing to tonight’s party. you’ve been fake dating for a year now, so the kiss to seal everyone’s belief was inevitable. it was right here, your eyes starting to flutter as you both lean in, breath hot and tense against each other—

“stop.” sae pulls away at the last second, leaving you in front of the party as he shamefully walks out the venue.

he can’t do this. he can’t kiss you like this. it’s not like he doesn’t want to—in fact, it’s all he’s ever wanted since he was sixteen. but he doesn’t want the first kiss with you to be for a crowd. he wants it to be out of love. a foolish part of him in that moment five seconds ago thought maybe there was something like love about to be shared in that kiss, but the sensible part of him wasn’t so sure. how can he believe its love if he doesn’t even know its real? how can he believe all those smiles across the room and moments drunk after a party in your living room weren’t for the facade?

“itoshi sae!” he’s outside, on the stairs of the grand venue at midnight when he feels your wrist grab his. he can feel about a hundred emotions in the tightness of your grip.

“what the hell was that?!” you’re fighting back waterworks. “itoshi sae! look at me for fucks sake!”

slowly, he turns around to face you. those teal eyes you loved so much take a moment to lock onto your teary ones, hesitant as he knows he’ll crumble at the responsibility of those tears. yet, his face is still stoic as he listens to you talk.

“are you dumb?!” yeah, he thinks.

“you can’t lead me to believe there was something between us, the same way you did when we were seventeen, and then let it all come crashing down by running away the moment you have to make it look real by kissing me! you confuse me, itoshi sae. i don’t care abut this fucking fake relationship anymore! i don’t care that everyone knows we were pretending to date! goddammit, sae, i just need you to talk to me! tell me what’s real, because i can’t keep doing this if its leading me down to unknown—”

oh.

suddenly all the words you had spat on him dissolved in the air, replaced by the enamor of his lips landing on yours.

your eyes shut, letting yourself fall into this one kiss that held the feelings of it all—every single happening between you since you met in that classroom when you were sixteen. it’s an initially reluctant kiss; sae’s lips are slow and tentative against yours, almost like he’s scared he’s touching a piece of artwork on display, like if he moves even slightly wrong he’ll mess it all up. but then it all feels right, and your lips are against each other like that was how they were sculpted to be.

later that night, sae decides that together could exist. and with the words “can you be my girlfriend?” he made it real. maybe the universe wasn’t against him after all.

TWENTY-THREE.

a year after you start dating, sae has said i love you in every way but “i love you.”

you’re his happiness. you’re everything he didn’t know he could have when it was just him and soccer. you complete itoshi sae. and he makes sure you know that.

he says it in his expression whenever teammates or business partners will tell him “i’ve never seen you so happy before” when he walks into the room after kissing you goodbye, trying to stifle a giddy grin and keep up the stoic itoshi sae they all know.

“you’re sunshine as a person. i hope you know that.” is what he said a month after it was official, five seconds before the photo you forced him to take with you at the beach was taken, which is now the photo on his lockscreen that captures the lovesick look that never ceased even after a year.

he says it in every kiss you share before every game, the discreet grins he gives you after he scores that he hides from cameras because he wants to save you from the public.

“you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” as quiet whispers against your ear when you put on a dress he bought for you for the business parties or fancy dinner dates that long ceased to be fake.

he says it whenever you get mad at him, and he knows he’s wrong, but hates being scolded by you so he pinches your cheeks with his thumb and index finger to shut you up, loving your flustered expression whenever he does it.

“i’ll never get tired of you.” whenever you feel like you’re not enough for the world-famous midfielder that so many girls would die for.

he says it in the way he falls into your body, arms and legs wrapping around any part of your body he can reach and shutting his eyes, not saying a word as you tease him for being so spent after his tough workout routines.

“no.” whenever you ask for him to do something because you’re absolutely beat and too tired from work to be bothered to do late-night house chores, but you can already hear his feet tapping against the floors as he gets up to do it for you.

he says it in the cocky look he gives to the camera, the public being able to see it but the look in his eyes only being reserved for you, whenever the interviewers ask “who’s the lucky girl?” and he responds with “none of the media’s business.” his manager always gets mad for coming off as rude, but sae doesn’t care if it means protecting you from crazy fangirls.

“doesn’t mean i don’t want to spend every second of my day with you.” when you insist on staying out of his way on his busier days but he wants you by his side when he has small breaks.

he says it in his expression whenever you make him do something he says is “dumb,” but because you’re doing it with him you can tell just from his pink ears and bright teal eyes that he loves it.

needless to say, when you’re stood at the itoshi mansion’s front door, grocery bag in hand as you just came back from a quick run during you and sae’s week-long visit to japan, you’re all but shocked when your boyfriend opens the door and says “i love you.”

you aren’t sure what triggers him to say it at such a random time. maybe it’s because this place that you stood at six years ago when you were seventeen, exchanging words for the first time, made sae think about just how lucky he was to have you in this life. there was no more thinking about universes where “us” existed, because this it. but either way, it feels right.

“i love you too, sae.”

TWENTY-FOUR

the words “i love you” still give you and sae the same giddy feeling a year later.

“i love you,” sae slurs, voice still deep from morning fatigue. he traces figures of your names, soccer balls, his number “10” on your back with his finger, his other arm holding you secure as you lay on top of him. you look pretty like this, he thinks, bathed in the morning sunlight that filters through his bedroom window and eyes still slightly puffy from just waking up.

“again,” you smile into his chest, urging him on.

“i love you.”

“again.”

“i love you.”

“running out of oxygen here, love.”

you laugh at that, but insist anyways. “again.”

“no.”

“wow, sae. i guss you don’t love me anymore. how fake of you.”

your boyfriend sighs at your antics, “i loved you when you first got sat next to me when we were sixteen and in highschool, and i’ll love you forever.”

you give him a kiss, muttering the words back.

“speaking of,” you start, “i thought you hated me in highschool.”

“no. but i hate you now for bringing it up.”

you slap him on his arm. a moment of silence.

“i was just scared. you were too good for me, and i knew i wouldn’t be enough because i prioritized soccer more than anything. i didn’t think we could be together until you became my neighbor. then i thought that maybe we could.” he hides his face in your hair to hide his flush.

that rises a teasing grin out of you, giving him a quick peck on the lips, “i didn’t know mr. grumpy had it in him to be so romantic! what starcrossed love.”

“shut up, y/n.”

the bedroom is filled with quiet laughter. as it falls, his mind thinks back to the letter hidden in his closet, inviting him to play for japan’s national team with the newly rebuilt team that came out of the blue lock project. he was willing to sign up, as he had seen firsthand a couple years ago how powerful japan’s team was with their new striker. but it required him to move back to japan.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he’s scared. even though you had just been joking about it, he was still scared this would be the moment where his soccer career ruins it all for you. what if you weren’t willing to move back to japan with him?

“i’ve been invited to play for japan’s national team.”

he lets the words sit in the air, lets you process it. he gets nervous as each second comes by without response, then it finally comes.

“okay. if this means going back to japan, i don’t mind. i’ll go wherever you go, sae.”

“are you sure?”

“i mean it when i say this is the place i want to be. anywhere with you.”

god, he didn’t think he could love you any more. he presses a kiss to your lips.

once, when he was sixteen, itoshi sae firmly believed that soccer would get in the way of you and him.

now, he is twenty-four and laughs at his past self for thinking that. you were his, and nothing would ever get in the way of that.

TWENTY-FIVE

you and sae moved to japan a month ago, in your shared apartment. you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it here more. you especially like being able to be close to the itoshi family, specifically rin. you often spent time with the younger itoshi when sae was busy.

today, though, was sae’s turn to visit his family. he had something important to talk to them about.

rin greets him at the front door, telling sae that their parents wouldn’t be home until an hour from now. the pink-haired was too lazy to make the trip and back, so the brothers settled on playing soccer in the back while waiting. sure enough, after half an hour they found themselves sweaty and panting on the grass. it’s quiet until rin lets out words he’d been holding.

the green-haired turns, looks at his brother. “y/n’s good for you.”

although a bit taken aback, sae remains cool. he almost chuckled. “i would hope so. i’ve been dating her for three years.”

“you should marry her.”

to rin’s surprise, sae snickers, hand discreetly moving towards his pants pocket. “i know. already got the ring.”

one reblog = one fake date

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amateurasterism · 1 year

Text

this is stupid.

kuroo knows that better than anyone—knows that this is entirely unreasonable and entirely spur of the moment and entirely something he should not do—but you’re standing in the kitchen, covered in flour, and the words seem to fall from his lips as if they were always meant to be there.

“marry me,” he says, and he means it just as he did when he asked you yesterday as he kissed you goodbye, and just as he did the day before when you tripped down the stairs, and just as he would tomorrow if you said no.

but this time, as laughter spills from your lips, messy dough coating your cheeks, something stirs in him. something that he wouldn’t find yesterday and won’t find tomorrow and something that feels like hope, and delirium and you—and he thinks, if only for a second, that stupid isn’t even the word for it.

“you’re asking right now?” you raise a brow, motioning your fingers around your mess of a kitchen, and a silly little smile draws across his cheeks.

“i am.”

“i’m covered in flour,” you say.

and he grins, “yeah, and you should marry me.”

you shake your head, pulling your lips together, and you give him that look you always do; the ’maybe when we’re older and smarter and a little less prone to divorce’ look that he’s grown to dread.

because, yes, this is stupid—incredibly so—but he’s twenty-one and he’s pretty sure he’s never going to get much smarter than this and you share a bed every night without killing each other, so, really, why not?

he holds his hand in the air, waiting to insist on asking you again tomorrow, but you laugh—soft and bright and something that aches like home—and a little okay rolls off your lips.

“what?” his fingers stutter in front of him, voice tugging at the back of his throat, and you laugh.

“i said okay.”

“you’re kidding,” he says, a little too dumbfounded for his own good.

“now why would i do that?” you reply, a little tease catching your breath.

(oh, you must be trying to kill him now.)

“because i asked you to marry me.”

“you did.”

“and you said yes.” a breath spills from your throat—happy little laughter swirling between you.

“i did.”

and he doesn’t know whether to scream, or cry, or maybe throw up, but he does know that you just agreed to marry him, so all three sound like a solid approach.

“i’m in love with you,” he says, hands reaching for floured cheeks.

“well i would hope so.”

and he rolls his eyes, pulling you in—lips meeting yours with a clash of flour and warmth and a breath of anything but regret—and he’s sure that he’d be stupid every day of his life if it meant being with you.

#reblogs !

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amateurasterism · 1 year

Text

rin knows that he has to be up at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow, but he can’t sleep. not when you keep giggling at your phone.

and rin swears that he’s not that kind of boyfriend. he doesn’t always have to know who exactly you’re texting and what exactly you’re texting about. he’s secure with himself and he’s even more secure with your relationship.

it’s just that…usually when you find something funny, you share it with him right away.

you always do, whether it’s a montage of cat fails or a clip of isagi tripping over his own foot during his last match.

“what’s so funny?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at you.

“nothing,” you say, but you’re still smiling at the screen.

“come on,” he insists, brows furrowing slightly as rolls around to sneak a glance at your phone. “just show me—”

he scoffs when you slap his hand away, hugging your phone to your chest. “hey! stay away from my phone, man! you don’t want to see what’s on here, trust me.”

“are you watching porn?” he asks, only half joking.

“no!” a pause. “well…”

“well?”

you scrunch your face, sending him a sheepish smile as you turn your phone towards him.

the title catches his eye and rin grabs your phone, scrolling down the article.

soccer players soaking up the sun!

he pauses on one particular photo, having to do a double take to make sure he’s actually seeing it right.

“is this…”

“have i told you that i love you today?” you ask much too fast to be innocent. “because i love you so much, babe. and you know i think that you’re sexy, but your brother is kind of—”

“don’t say it,” he mumbles, turning your phone off and placing it on the nightstand so it’s out of your reach.

“he’s—”

“please don’t—”

“he’s smoking hot!”

“oh my god,” he groans, rubbing a hand down his face as you laugh. he knows you’re just teasing, that you just like to push his buttons like it’s your job, but this is quite possibly the worst night of his life. “i’m going to throw up.”

“awe don’t worry, babe,” you coo, reaching up to pinch his cheek. “i still think you’re hotter.”

“oh yeah?” he asks, raising a brow as he glances down at you. “prove it.”

#reblogs !#the end🤭🤭

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amateurasterism · 1 year

Text

BLUE LOCK BOYS AS ROMANCE TROPES !

— feat ⨾ itoshi sae, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo.

— contents ⨾ fluff, angst.

ITOSHI SAE + second chance at love !

it's raw with desperation and fear and hope— the way sae's fingers are clutching the fabric of your shirt. it's wasn't supposed to be this way. he kisses the tears trailing down your cheeks, “you said it was over. you said it wasn't worth it. you said you didn't want—” you choke on your own words, hand closing in fists on your sides when sae mutters breathlessly, “i didn't mean it, never ever.” he says. something like guilt burns in his eyes, a taste of regret on his lips, uncertainty and impatience in his hastened breaths.

it's crazy, you think. the way he still has that effect he had on you years ago when you were both seventeen in the airport terminal, teary eyes and staggered breaths. when the fear that the distance would tear you apart first took over, and sae stopped believing. when you looked away from him for the first time and he didn't reach out to wipe your tears. it wasn't supposed to be this way. he was back after four years and you weren't supposed to be in his arms. you promised yourself you'd talk like old friends do, and he trusted himself that he wouldn't say anything to try and make you stay.

“i think it can work, you and me, us. just the two of us and it'll be enough.” you know these words have burned on his tongue for long, because they're warm on your lips. you're kissing him back like it's only natural to do so.“i'm already yours, always have been.” he murmurs.

ITOSHI RIN + childhood friends to lovers !

it's the warm and golden hues of the setting sun melting into the evening blues, splattered colours of contrast coming together— the mark of a newborn eve, the smell of wet earth after the first shower of spring and the cool caress of the breeze. rin is standing by the entrance gates to your school, leaning against the wall, head rested to the side as he waits for you.

you think you're caught in a trance. his back covers the remnants of the sunlight like the moon eclipsing the sun, casting shadows of orange glows. when he breathes, the shadows dance with him. he frowns in wait, and you catch up to him. when you smile, it's almost melancholy, “what's got you smiling like that?” rin eyes the solemn curve of your lips.

“hmm? i think it's ’cause i like you.” the words bleed from your voice in saccharine hues, in bittersweet whispers of unrequited love and fear that maybe you've ruined the carefully painted mosaic of years of knowing rin and the sea green gleam of his eyes, the quiet hums and smiles only you know, the knowledge that he doesn't know how to make paper planes, summer nights of horror movie marathons and trading ice creams.

rin parts his lips, eyes as wide as saucers. he sucks a breath in— searching for the second you say you're joking, “do you mean that?”

you nod and rin's arms swallow you whole, chests pressed so close your heartbeats sync and improvise as one.

“i like you too, really like you.” he breathes into your neck— lingers of relief and gratitude like he's breathing for the first time.

NAGI SEISHIRO + forced proximity !

past 2 am into the late hours of midnight blues and the heavy patters rain against the glass window, reduced to background noise because you're subconsciously trying to trace the steady pattern of nagi's breathing, eyes skimming the fall and rise of his chest every two seconds.

you've been awake since thunder rumbled the walls of your temporarily-shared bedroom for the first time tonight. some fun, memorable just-close-friends trip this is. perhaps it wasn't enough you had to share the bed with someone, maybe it's truly because that someone happened to be nagi seishiro that you can't sleep at all. you're conscious of every breath he takes, how his body expands and relaxes. the heat of your bodies melding as one like a blanket of second warmth over you. “you still awake?” you ask, low and soft. nagi hums, “mhm, if you still are.”

his voice is nothing but a breath of the comfort of not being alone, exhaustion from the day clawing at his throat. “you can sleep if you want.” you say, it's whispered into the night— a silent thank you because he's letting you know he's here as long as you want him, “i wanna stay like this.” he urges, bringing a hand to brush your hair behind your ear and let you him. you let him hook his arm around your waist, foreheads brushing lightly, breaths tangling in knots and lips seconds away from meeting. you watch the curve of his lips, how they move to form words, “i like this more.”

MIKAGE REO + fake relationship !

you think reo had always looked like midsummer nights adorned with princely smiles and bubbles of champagne in the glass, glitters of neon city lights against damp car windows, juvenile secrets traded as i love you's with the hope it lasts forever. ( it doesn't. )

it lingers in the way he kisses you these days— a small talk to fill in loud silences, pretense and improvised. you kiss him back— a lullaby of aching heartbreak, unrequited and young. it almost makes you forget about the blinding flashes of camera lights, hurrying to capture the moment mikage reo is seen with his partner.

it's just like he had asked you to, “date me” he'd said, missing the way your eyes lit up, “it doesn't have to be real, just enough so my parents stop setting me up for blind dates.”

“i don't think i can do this anymore.” your voice breaks, eyes refusing to meet his.

“what? why?—” he rushes close and you step back, “it's getting too real for me, i can't.”

he pauses— ponders your words, lets them replay in his mind over and over again, “...and you don't want that?” you do. so much that you said yes before thinking when he first proposed this, “what about you, reo? this... this means nothing to you right? none of th—”

“it does”, his voice is almost begging, “it means everything to me. you do. it's you and it's always been you.” he looks at you, wondering if he should continue. he does anyway, “it's real. i loved you every time i said it, every time i didn't say it. I'll say it again if you want me to—” and you hear it, like it's always been there, like it's all he's ever known, “— i love you, y/n.”

#reblogs !#this is so beautifully written wow

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