itosh1s

[itosh1s]

eclipse

[itosh1s]

rin would help you put on press nails when you’re struggling to do so, especially with your non dominant hand. he’s just that kind of boyfriend, he can’t refuse you when you ask so sweetly. he would also help you do literally everything else when you’re unable to because of the extra length on your fingers. he may act annoyed and make a mocking comment but ultimately he enjoys doing things for you, no matter how trivial he thinks they are. acts of service is definitely his love language.

[itosh1s]

06062025

[itosh1s]

geto before entering jujutsu tech. geto moved to tokyo and he entered the dorm before anyone else. unpacking while on the phone with his mom.

[itosh1s]

rin itoshi luvs to bite u! ( ¬҂ ´ ཀ ` )¬

autistic!rin headcanon! i tried to make it less cheesy but i just thought this was sooo cute

rin itoshi doesn’t say much about being autistic. he doesn’t see the point. talking about it never made anything easier, especially not when people expected him to act like it wasn’t part of him. he’s used to keeping things quiet—emotions, needs, even pain.

you’re the first person who doesn’t ask him to perform normalcy. you don’t push him to explain what he can’t, or force him to fake a whimsy attitude. you just let him be, and that’s something rin didn’t realize he needed until he had it.

you figure it out on your own: when rin’s overwhelmed, frustrated, overstimulated, or even just focused in his own head, he bites. small, controlled, deliberate. he’ll press his teeth into your arm, shoulder, hand—whatever’s closest. he never breaks skin, never even leaves a mark. it’s just pressure. grounding. something that brings him back into his body.

the first time he does it, he hesitates. “can i bite you?” he says it flatly, like he’s used to hearing no. when you nod and offer your arm, he doesn’t react, but he does it again the next day. and the next.

it becomes part of the routine. he doesn’t ask anymore; he just checks your face first, and if you’re good with it, he goes ahead. a bite when the room’s too loud. a bite when he’s stuck in his head. a bite when he doesn’t know how else to say he’s starting to spiral.

you never tease him about it. you don’t treat it like a quirk. it’s a regulation tool, and it helps him!

sometimes, when the weight of everything catches up to him, he mumbles it into your hoodie after a bite: “it helps.” and you just nod. “i know.”

you don’t need him to be anything other than what he is. and he doesn’t need to explain why biting you feels better than talking, or why that pressure keeps him steady.

he’s not trying to be cute. it’s not some inside joke or pet habit. it's just a tinge of reassurance for him, and his way of outspokenly telling you he loves you! ( •̀⤙•́ )

and you let him, because that’s what he needs. and because he trusts you to.

A/N : ahahahah AHHH omg i have nevaaa posted a blog like this b4! i think my inbox is open.. if u want to suggest anything.. might do smut might not, still deciding..

i need to make a rules page! but i shud clarify that im OKAY with some dark content! i originally started this for that.. but... i donno if i can handle the hate!!! aghhhh ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

© @everymeowandthen - don't steal my work!!!

[itosh1s]

sae itoshi  hated your hair.

not you. never you. but the bright, impossible color that bled everywhere.

he'd wake up, and there it would be. a faint blue smear on his pristine white pillowcase. he'd try to ignore it, to pretend it wasn't there, but it always caught his eye. a tiny, defiant mark.

the bathroom was worse. every time you washed your hair, the sink became a swirling mess of color. he'd scrub, his jaw tight, trying to get it clean. but the stain always lingered.

and the towel... the towel was a lost cause. somehow, it was always a shade of blue, no matter how many times he washed it.

he complained, of course. he'd tell you, his voice flat, "it's staining everything. it's messy." he'd sound annoyed, distant. but inside, a small part of him... it was a strange kind of comfort. it was you. a messy, vibrant, undeniable part of you, marking his space.

he'd never admit that.

not until you left.

and the white was blinding.

the pillowcases were perfect, untouched. the sink gleamed, spotless. the towel was, finally, white.

and he hated it.

he hated the clean, empty perfection. he hated the lack of that messy, vibrant blue. he hated how the silence screamed your absence.

he'd find himself staring at the pristine white, a hollow ache in his chest. he missed the faint, stubborn stains. he missed the way your hair, that impossible color, had somehow managed to leave its mark on his life.

he missed you.

he missed the mess.

[itosh1s]

♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓

Satoru’s the type of boyfriend who takes your compliments as guidelines.

“Mm, you smell so good.” Now he’s wearing that same cologne every single day, buying extra bottles to stock up so he never runs out.

“I love your hair like that.” Now he wears it like that all the time. Messes it up a little bit on purpose because that’s how you like it.

“That color really suits you.” It’s the only color he wears from here on out.

“You look so handsome in that shirt.” After that, you have to tell him he can’t wear the same shirt every day.

“I love when you laugh like that.” Any other kind of laugh slips out of him, he’s pissed at himself. That was the wrong one.

“I like your other sunglasses better.” He does now, too. The first pair’s getting thrown in the garbage.

You can doll him up all you want. Anything for your affection, your attention, your admiration. He loves feeling loved by you. It’s a high he’s constantly chasing.

♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓

[itosh1s]

gyaruo bf!shidou + vkei s/o!user who’s with me

[itosh1s]

nanami did anything and everything for his spoiled rotten wife !

notes: fem reader!

you were used to being treated like a princess your entire life and had a confidence that exuded that. when nanami met you, he found it so attractive and your energy engaging. he wanted to be able to maintain you and have you feel free to not worry about anything.

you weren’t just spoiled about money either. it was your time, energy, comfort, and esteem. you didn’t let anything get in the way of how you felt and your motives. if you wanted to achieve or get something, you’d get it on your own measures. you were used to spoiling yourself and/or getting spoiled and nanami made it his mission to keep up the tradition.

“ken, can we get these to match?” you show him the new coach bag that dropped for their valentine’s day collection with a matching wallet set for your husband. “of course, darling. you want it in that color? i like the black too.” “yes ken, thank you.” you kiss him on his lips while sitting on his lap while he’s watching his movie, getting ready to pay using his card. you loved the soft life.

it doesn’t stop there though. nanami made it his duty every evening while you both had quality time to rub your feet, getting any tensions out. he would be reading his book with his left hand and rubbing your white painted toes with his right. he could feel you visibly relax and loved when it was because of him.

been stressed out at work? nanami has cleaned the kitchen and the living room, making sure you won’t have anything else to worry your pretty head about. the least he feel he can do for you is clean up and make the house de cluttered so your mind is de cluttered as well.

although he has plenty of things to handle at jujutsu high, he loved how independent you were on him. he could be gone with late shifts and you understood. of course you told him you’d missed him and any quality time you both could get from each other, you’d grab at it. but you kept yourself occupied with hobbies you’d learn to pick up, hung out with friends you were close to, practicing new dishes and going to the gym or handling work stuff. although sometimes you missed nanami so much it’d hurt, you were your priority and he loved that you knew that.

that’s why nanami never told you no, because you never told yourself no.

“ken can we-” “yes darling.”

“ken i wanted to get-” “it’s ordered my love.”

“ken should we go-” “yes, i’ll warm the car up.”

kento nanami would never stop spoiling his spoiled rotten wife.

[itosh1s]

you keep doing the riku shake around sae just to mess with him and it’s working bc now he’s annoyed. after awhile he ignores you and doesn’t react bc he knows you’re doing this for your own amusement. the only downside is that this goddamn song is now stuck in his head

[itosh1s]

this right here is true love (no matter what you view their relationship as) and devotion, oh my heart. i will never turn my back on you ness, you deserve the world.

[itosh1s]

can i request a fluff with rin where reader wants to put makeup on rin 🥲 it'd be so adorable

ᓚᘏᗢ — rin itoshi: pretty boy !

synopsis: in which you convince your boyfriend to let you do his makeup.

rin itoshi x reader ⭑ fluff / softie!rin (my fav) + likes & reblogs are appreciated <3

note: AHHHH THANK YOUUU ANON i love this request omg

"stay still."

rin exhaled through his nose. "i am still."

"no, you're not. you're blinking like i'm threatening you with a knife."

"that's because you are," he muttered. "a very glittery knife."

you snorted, your free hand curling lightly around his shoulder for balance as you leaned in closer.

"you're such a baby," you whispered, tapping a dot of highlighter on the tip of his nose.

he sighed, long-suffering, dramatic but entirely fake. his hands stayed steady around your waist, fingers draped over your hips like they belonged there, which, to be fair, kind of did.

you were straddling his lap, knees tucked on either side of his thighs, your makeup bag beside you on the couch. rin sat still beneath you, back pressed against the cushions, while you carefully painted stars across his cheekbones with soft brushed and too much love.

you'd asked him as a joke, half a joke. okay, maybe not really a joke at all. just soft and teasing and full of affection. it was a lazy sunday afternoon. his head had been in your lap, your fingers in his hair and something about the way the light caught his face made your chest feel all floaty. so you blurted:

"can i do your makeup?"

you expected a no or a weird look. maybe a kiss on the cheek and a "sounds ridiculous, so no."

instead, rin blinked up at you, yawned once and said, "...okay."

which is how you ended up here, settled on his lap with a brush in one hand and his stupidly perfect face in the other.

"you have really nice eyes, you know," you said quietly, blending shimmer onto his eyelids.

he didn't respond, not out loud at least.

but one of his hands moved, slid up the small of your back, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades. just resting there.

you pretended not to notice. you definitely noticed.

"why are you even letting me do this?" you asked, laughing softly as you swept a warm blush across his cheeks. "i thought you'd say no and grumble about it for like an hour."

"i don't mind," he said.

"really?"

"you like it."

you froze for a second. just long enough for it to hit your heart directly.

"...you're such a sap," you mumbled.

"don't care." his voice was quieter now, more serious. "i like it when you touch me."

your breath caught. you paused halfway through reaching for lip gloss.

"oh, okay, wow. rude to just say that out loud."

he raised an eyebrow. "you asked."

you stared at him, flustered and probably getting warmer than he already was. he looked annoyingly calm about the whole thing, even with sparkles on his cheeks and the tiniest bit of mascara on his lashes.

"you're lucky you're pretty," you muttered.

"everyone keeps saying that," he deadpanned.

you laughed so hard you almost fell off his lap. your balance tipped, knees slipping and rin's hands flew to your waist, steadying you in that way he always did.

"careful, hm?" he muttered, but there was a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now. like watching you be ridiculous warmed something in him he didn't know could be warm.

"thank you... okay, final touch," you whispered, lifting the dior lip gloss he gifted you on valentines day. "pucker up, itoshi."

he rolled his eyes. "never say that again."

"say please," you teased.

he just looked at you, eyes dark but impossibly soft. then, without a word, he leaned in and kissed you. gentle and slow.

"are you done?" he murmured.

you smiled against his mouth.

"yeah," you breathed.

"okay."

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[itosh1s]

Hello! Could I ask something about a foreign reader, maybe European, meeting Michael in Germany, Sae in Madrid and Rin in Japan while on a trip? Speaking in English since they don't know the language and having that immediate connection that neither of them have ever had before. That'd be very cute, and such a dream😫

“𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤”

a/n: love talk by wayv is a FIRE song

made reader both european and american if that’s okay! being american helps explain the english more

translation of each title: “do you speak english?” (german), “more beautiful than the sun” (spanish), “kotoba janakute mo/even without words” (japanese)

ft. kaiser michael, itoshi sae, itoshi rin

kaiser michael – "sprichst du english?" 

berlin's streetlights hum like lullabies, the city bleeding into a haze of jazz from some underground bar. you don’t know where you are. literally. google maps is spinning like a roulette wheel and you're pretty sure the bratwurst vendor gave you a fake street name just to mess with you. 

“you look like a lost little tourist,” a voice purrs, rich with amusement. 

you turn to see a tall, golden-haired man leaning against a lamp post, hands in his coat pockets, smirk curled like a sin. 

“you speak english?” 

his eyes light up. “better than you, probably.” 

he says it like he’s challenging you, like he wants to bicker for the next hour over espresso and late-night currywurst. 

you blink. “oh my gosh, thank goodness. i thought i was gonna get kidnapped.” 

“well,” he chuckles, stepping forward with a lazy saunter, “depends on who finds you first.” 

he offers his hand. “michael. kaiser, actually. but you can call me whatever you want, hübsches mädchen.” 

you laugh, hand in his. “i literally have no idea what you just said.” 

“good. it’s more fun that way.” 

and just like that, he walks with you, not behind or in front, but beside, like he already belongs there. he gets you a kebab, points out ridiculous graffiti, and lets you try to pronounce german street names while biting back laughter. 

you don’t even remember what you were looking for in berlin. now it’s just him. 

itoshi sae – "más guapa que el sol" 

you’re melting. madrid in the summer is no joke. and you, brave but dumb, decided to wear jeans. 

as you take refuge in a quiet little café, fanning yourself with a menu, the chair across from you scrapes against the floor. 

“mind if i sit?” an unfamiliar voice in crisp english asks. 

you look up. red hair. unreadable teal eyes. the aura of someone who absolutely hates small talk but will make an exception for you. 

“… uh, sure?” you blink. “do i know you?” 

he just shrugs and sits down, sipping from his water. “you were staring at the menu like it insulted you. figured i’d save you.” 

you snort. “i can’t read anything. my spanish sucks.” 

he lifts a brow. “american?” 

“and european… you say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“it is,” he mutters. but the corner of his mouth quirks like he’s fighting a smile. 

he orders for both of you without asking, and you're weirdly okay with it. later, over chilled wine and tortilla, you learn he’s a football player. kind of famous, actually. sae something. 

“so you're like, a celebrity?” 

“only here,” he says, looking out the window. then softer, “not with you though.” 

you don’t know what it means. maybe he doesn’t either. but when he offers to walk you to your hotel, slowly, like he has nowhere else to be, you let him. 

itoshi rin – “言葉じゃなくても” 

you’re crying in the middle of a tokyo train station. not ugly crying, but overwhelmed, jetlagged, google-translate-is-failing-you crying. 

someone taps your shoulder. you spin around, sniffling, trying to look like you didn’t just almost sob into your iced matcha. 

he’s tall. sharp-eyed. slightly terrifying. but his voice is gentle when he asks, “are you okay?” 

“do you… you speak english?” you manage. 

“a little,” he says. “you’re lost?” 

you nod. 

without a word, he gestures for your phone. you hand it over and he starts typing something into your map app. once he finishes, he gives it back and mutters, ��i’ll take you.” 

“you don’t have to–” 

“i want to,” he says. blunt. serious. a little red in the ears. 

on the way, you try to make conversation, and he gives these awkward, short replies, like he wants to say more but doesn’t know how. still, he slows his pace to match yours. he buys you a melon soda when he notices you haven’t had water all day. he hovers protectively when the crowd thickens. 

when you reach your destination, you thank him profusely. he just nods, looks like he wants to say something else… and hands you a tiny slip of paper. 

his number. with a scribbled note underneath: “i could work on my english more. can i practice with you?” 

and suddenly, you’re not so lost anymore. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[itosh1s]

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your laptop, hoodie sleeves pushed up and a spoon dangling out of a half-eaten yogurt cup. It’s very peaceful in the apartment except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional click of your keyboard. Toji’s across the room rummaging through cabinets like he’s on some mission, muttering something under his breath about the coffee being too damn weak.

And then out of nowhere, he’s standing behind you.

You don’t hear him move until a hand drops onto your head. Not rough, but heavy— warm, calloused fingers sliding through your hair like it’s the most ordinary thing in the world. No warning. No explanation. Just… there.

You freeze, your shoulders tensing slightly at the feeling, eyes widened as you slowly look up at him. He’s not even looking at you. Still focused on the cabinets like he’s multitasking. Like this random act of affection is just another thing on his to-do list.

“Toji?” you whisper, confusion evident in your tone.

“Hm?” he hums, dragging his hand down and brushing some stray hairs behind your ear.

“What’re you doing?”

“Petting you,” he says boringly, flat like it’s obvious. “You’re soft. Calms me down”.

Your mind blanks entirely. When his eyes finally drop to meet yours, they catch the faint flush coloring your ears and he just smirks, rubbing his palm a little slower over your head now— ruffling your hair like you’re some nervous stray he’s trying to tame.

“You’re weird,” you mumble, trying to hide being flustered.

He shrugs. “Takes one to live with one.” And then he walks off like nothing happened, leaving you sitting there, confused and yogurt spoon still in hand and he didn't even get his damn coffee.

[itosh1s]

it’s rin my pookiebear. he’s always been my favourite :3

[itosh1s]

⸻ 糸師凛 ITOSHI RIN.

TW; implied fem reader, reader wears makeup.

rin's sitting at the very back of the class, the morning sun shining through the window. its quiet, an hour before school really starts, the only people in the desolate room is him, two classmates that sit at the front, and you.

you sit right next to him, by the window, make up products sprawled on the wooden surface. he had overheard one of your friends question why you came in so early when you didn't need to. your response being a shrug, that the natural light was better to do your makeup in.

–which was what you were doing right now, half–way through your makeup routine, currently dabbing blush on your cheeks. he's preoccupied in his own thoughts, like he always is in the morning, until the sudden scent of cheap vanilla invades his senses. slightly turning his head, he almost jumps in his seat seeing you leaning into his personal space, to distracted to be clearly aware how close you two really are. he could almost see each individual eye lash, the soft curve of your face and the curious look in your features. but your not looking at him. his eyes snap to follow where your eyes landed-to the illuminated phone in his hand.

your glossy lips curve into a smile, your eyes meeting his. "you listen to deftones too? cool."

before he could even get a word in, you moved away, already back to doing your makeup, as if nothing ever happened. he spent the next ten seconds just staring at you blankly, before slowly looking ahead, realising he probably looked stupid.

the thought of your girly appearance or seraphic personality liking such a music genre didn't cross rin's mind. but the fact you liked something he liked made him feel...content.

shit–he feels his face getting hot. he hopes your too indulged in your routine to notice.

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