luvsymai

[luvsymai]

TWIYOR NATION WE'VE NEVER BEEN MORE BACK

Loid Forger if you fuck this up it's on sight

[luvsymai]

𝐫𝐛𝐟 - 𝐟𝐭; 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢, 𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ; it was never your intention to appear this way—it really wasn’t. but maybe he might look past that.

𝐟𝐭 ; isagi yoichi, Itoshi rin (separately)

𝐜𝐰 ; afab!reader, reader has an rbf, swearing, reader gets made fun of, isagi falls HARD (and so does rin but shhh)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; an rbf is a resting bitch face. basically, it’s when your resting face or neutral expression looks mad or unpleasant and unapproachable, even if it’s unintentional.

i hate my rbf sm💔

@kxsagi come get your awkward ass man

𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢

isagi hurried onto the train, releasing a long sigh of relief when he successfully made it onto the vehicle before the door closed. his bag was slung over his shoulder. this was going to be a 3 hour ride, so hopefully there would be lots of free seats to choose from—

wait, why was there only one free seat?

he stared at the singular unoccupied seat, and it wasn’t next to someone he was familiar with or has talked to much before. it was next to you.

isagi didn’t have anything against you; it’s just that you scared him. horrified him, even. and many other people as well. you always looked annoyed or mad about something and it always seemed like you were moments away from having a yelling match with anyone who you laid your eyes on.

basically, you were intimidating. horrifyingly so.

he waddled his way to the seat next to you, glancing at some of his teammates mouth him an “im sorry” or “she’s so weird” at him. he sighed, there was no need to be mean about this, no matter how scary you seemed.

he sat next to you, placing his bag underneath his seat. “uh, hi.” he stammered. you had the window seat, so he was stuck with a not so great view. “great weather today.”

“mhm.” you hummed, glancing at him and nodding. “hi.”

back to awkwardness. isagi shook his legs; if this was going to be the entire train ride, then this was going to be the most torturous three hours of his entire life. the train started, and isagi stared outside.

“uh, ah, um…the grass is green outside, just like the grass on the soccer field. not that it’s real grass, of course! i mean, the grass on the soccer field doesn’t have cows or sheep or stuff, it was soccer balls…! never mind.” this is dumb, isagi thought to himself. he was ready to die of embarrassment. he stared down at his shoes, face burning.

“hmph—wow.”

isagi’s eyes shot up, jaw going slack. was that a giggle he just heard? he stared at you; the small curve of your lips, the tiny crinkle of your eyes, the pastel red of your cheeks.

were you always able to make this sort of expression. “you’re really bad at this, y’know. humor.” you snorted. “but seriously, don’t ever become a stand up comedian. you’d be dirt poor and homeless.”

“and yet you’re laughing the hardest right now!” isagi exclaimed, a smile finding its way onto his own lips. his eyes softened; people made fun of you because of…what? your resting face was bitchy?

because right now, all he could see if an expression so beautiful that it deserved to be in the finest of golden frames and hung up in the most prestigious museums.

“yeah, yeah.” you huffed. isagi’s heart stuttered, skipping 11 beats at once. for some reason, his face was starting to heat up. “woah, no need to get embarrassed.”

“i’m not!” he attempted to hit you playfully.

the other students stared. you were in the window seat, so no one else could see you. but in all of their heads, a single thought ran through their minds: is isagi schizophrenic?

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧

“here’s your ticket.”

rin walked to the train seat displayed on his ticket, placing his bag on the rack and sitting in the window seat. hopefully his seat partner wouldn’t be an annoying nag.

he learned his head on the window, trying to find a comfortable position. he then heard footsteps approaching as he looked up; looks like you were going to be the one sitting next to him.

you had a resting face ripped straight out of a horror movie, but at least you were someone quiet. he ignored you as you sat, hoping that you wouldn’t need him for anything this whole ride.

“oh my gosh, of course they’re seated together.”

“rin’s hot, but he’s soooo mean. and so is she. at least that saves us from the trouble of having one of them as our seat partners.”

“they should date just to save us the worries of one of them liking us.”

“she’s so scary. why does she always look so angry?”

how lukewarm.

honestly, people just can’t seem to mind their own business. he saw you clutching your uniform, sighing. he rolled his eyes.

“in a few hours, their cheers and insults will turn into homesick yawns and cries.” he drawled. hopefully you’d be reassured enough to not bother him with questions or doubts during the ride.

but instead, you laughed.

rin shouldn’t react. he had no need to. and yet he found himself immediately turning his head back to stare, his eyes widening.

the world around you was rainy. gray, almost. and yet you were so colorful; so vibrant—vivid. the quirk of the corners of your lips, the small light in your eyes. everything was perfect.

you were so beautiful.

why was someone like you sitting next to him?

“out of every way that you could have worded that, the one you picked was surely the weirdest one.” you snorted, giggling.

rin blinked a few times before placing his elbow on the armchair, his chin on his palm. “tch. it’s just some wording. no need to overreact.”

he just couldn’t get the image of your smile of out of his.

people were only scared of your rbf because they didn’t try to make you laugh. cowards.

rin would make you laugh just to see that dumb, pure smile again. he swore it.

[luvsymai]

hiii can i request being siblings with isagi? basically cute but also goofy little things and we have a crush on rin, and isagi tries not to tweak and crash out ^_^

i love the itoshi/isagi sibling x isagi/itoshi reqs 😭

anyone but him

itoshi rin x isagi!reader (kinda). crack, fluff. isagi!reader has a crush on rin, and isagi thinks the world is ending <3

you and yoichi had the classic sibling dynamic where you thrive off of embarrassing each other. either that, or you’re matching one another’s stupid energy until your parents have to cut in and tell you to stop.

exhibit a:

“yoichi, look at the meme i sent. it’s you.” and it’s a picture of a rodent.

“… why am i a rat in this?”

“because you’re short and scrungly.”

“mom only wanted one, in case you forgot—ow!”

so, when you told him you have a crush on itoshi rin, he short circuited a little. “what the hell do you mean you have a crush on that emotionally constipated mess?”

you rolled your eyes. “i mean he’s pretty. and tall.”

“so is a lamp post.”

you threw a pillow at him for that.

it’s not like you see the blue lock boys very often, so isagi pushed the nightmare that was you and rin out of his mind… until you happened to run into the devil himself while shopping for groceries together (as a bonding exercise and chore from your lovely mother).

isagi glared at him the entire time they crossed paths. thousands, if not millions of insults waited on his tongue for the moment rin looked his way or tried to speak to him, but if he felt the daggers isagi was shooting through his eyes, he ignored them.

meanwhile, you giggled behind your hand every time rin happened to glance your way.

you were having the time of your life until isagi decided to step in front of you, effectively cutting rin from your view and vice versa. you groaned in frustration. “yoichi, can you move? you’re blocking my view of my future husband.”

yoichi looked scandalized. “shut up.”

rin absolutely noticed your squabble, especially when you and isagi started shoving one another like children in the middle of the store. he just pretended not to hear when you told isagi you’re going to marry him one day. his ears did turn red at the thought, though.

when isagi saw that, he wanted to throw himself off a cliff.

“you need therapy,” he bit as he dragged you to the check out line, kicking you in the shin when you blew rin a kiss.

you didn’t get a word out the entire ride home. every time you tried, yoichi would cut you off with a sharp, “no.” you ended up with your arms crossed and forehead against the window, pouting and mentally cursing your brother out.

until you finished putting the groceries inside and saw a follow request from the itoshi rin and squealed.

“yoichi, i’m gonna go talk to rin—“

isagi threw his hands over his ears. “no. no rin. lalalalalalala, i can’t hear you!”

“we’re gonna get married, and you’ll be brothers!”

“nooooo!”

[luvsymai]

bite-sized revenge

gojo satoru  x fem!reader — it's in his DNA to be a menace, so can Gojo really be mad that his toddler inherited that from him? 

warnings/tags: established relationship, domestic fluff, gojo and his baby girl, just fluffyyyyyy (not proofread, sorry if there are any typos or etc xx)

Gojo Satoru is fatally, insanely, completely head over heels for you. 

To this day, he maintains that. He’ll tell everybody of the joys of knowing you — and no, he’s not being sarcastic when he says that. 

Though, if there was one thing he could almost cry about, it would be this. 

See, if there’s one thing Gojo Satoru loves to do, it’s to tease his two girls. And that’s exactly what he’s doing to the tinier one, the mini you x him, this morning. 

“Here comes the choo choo train.” Satoru guides the sweet potato closer, and her cute little babbles fill the air. It seems like his little munchkin inherited his sweet tooth. And just as the delightful dollop reaches his sweet girl, he pulls the spoon back with a grin. 

“Dada!” She crosses her chubby arms (and briefly, he thinks she looks like the Michelin man, and his grin grows bigger), eye twitching and face in a pout that screams ‘i’ll remember this betrayal’. 

“Satoru,” you chide, and he turns to face you. You’re leaning on the kitchen counter, arms crossed just like your daughter. Sunlight streams in through the adjacent open window, lighting the edges of your hair with that ethereal glow that makes his head explode and his heart ache. “That choo choo train is going to derail.” 

“I’m an excellent driver, thank you,” he replies, readjusting his grip on the spoon like it’ll prove his point, and if you ask him, it does. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, here…” Satoru glides the spoon through the air again, and just like that, your daughter is giggling and clapping her hands again.

So sweet, so trusting, that Satoru almost regrets his next move. 

At the last second, he yanks the spoon away again, and this time, he’s dodging tiny fists like his life depends on it.

He can’t help it, he only laughs louder — loud, belly-aching, cheek-pulling, laughter that infects you too, as you giggle behind your hand.

When he takes a peek at your darling daughter once again, it’s like rage is bubbling through her — well, all the rage someone of her size can muster. 

“Satoru.” 

But his name didn’t come from you. It’s grumbled out by the tiny cherub in front of him, and the colour drains from his face as Satoru’s heart falls to the floor. 

His laughter cuts off — replaced by frantic attempts to placate his rascal, arms held up like in surrender — but yours only grows. And it seems like your approval, and his dismay, fuels the little gremlin, because she opens her mouth again — no doubt to spout that horrific name again. 

“No, no,” he coos, desperate now. “Sweetheart, I’m dada. Dad. Papa. Father.” He wrinkles his nose at the last one. “Actually angel, don’t say father. It’s too serious.” 

Your baby girl turns her nose up at him, clearly not amused, and Satoru busies himself with scooping a heapful on the spoon — his apology. “Here, for real this time, eat up..”

She turns her cheek again — because fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice… — and the mashed sweet potato smears all over her cheek like an accidental streak of paint. 

And for the second time this morning, Satoru has to stifle his laughter, slapping a hand over his mouth as laughter threatens to escape. But your daughter, oh your sweet daughter, she’s glaring at him with an anger strong enough to buckle his knees. 

“Gojo.” It’s like the last name comes out in slow motion — choppy, lower, said with defiance and with the intention to reprimand her dad so badly he will never try her again. 

And worse yet, she’s not just angry, she’s disappointed. Those big blue eyes (and for the thousandth time this week, Satoru understands how others feel when he looks at them), shining with gleeful revenge. “Oh, Gojo.” She shakes her head side to side with a pout that could bring nations crumbling down with the sheer disapproval. 

Gojo? 

“You’re Gojo too!” And now he’s the one pouting, caught up in a fight with a toddler that both of them know that she’ll win. Satoru whips his head in your direction — you’re in hysterics now — accusation in his stare, and a silent plea for help.

And you know him, you know him, so he knows that you’re ignoring his cries for assistance in favour of holding yourself up by the bench. 

Betrayed by his two favourite people in one day. 

Satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, slumping in his chair at being struck by this final blow. Your daughter huffs, victorious, her tiny fists pumping into the air in her high chair, like a tiny general who’s just conquered an empire. And Satoru doesn’t even have time to claim the triumph that she picked up that emote from him. 

And suddenly, you swoop in like an angel from the sidelines, finally having caught your breath on the sidelines. Stepping forward, you take the spoon from his limp hand and gently scoop up the sweet potato. 

“Here, sweetheart,” you coo, smelling something sweet that he can’t name (maybe it’s just you), that he wants to eat up all the same.

Your dear daughter accepts the spoonful without hesitation, though, she makes a point to side eye her defeated dad when she does. And then, her little pout melts into a satisfied smile, as she munches happily. 

Satoru watches her eat, deflated but completely smitten, and when he turns to you again, he finds you already looking at him — soft hair framing your face like the beautiful work of art he knows you are — with that knowing, star-filled gaze that always undoes him. 

“You’ll pay for this,” he warns weakly, pointing at you with an exaggerated menace. 

You just laugh again, and lean down to press a small, soft kiss to his forehead — and just like that, he’s forgiven you. “Good luck, Gojo.”

“You’re Gojo too,” he groans, though, his arms wrap about your waist, pulling you closer despite his wounded pride. 

And in that warm kitchen, sunlight pooling around all three of you, he realises he wouldn’t trade this — the chaos, the tiny betrayals, the teasing that only comes from unconditional love — for anything in the world. 

Not now. Not ever. 

© 2025 letteremi. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost my work to any platforms 

[luvsymai]

Satoru didn’t realize he was dating a cheater.

At first, he doesn’t think much of the Discord chatter drifting down the hall, just your usual giggles and gasps as you huddle up at your desk on a group call with your girlfriends to watch whatever shiny new k-drama or anime you’ve all latched onto this week. He’s used to the occasional squeal, the soft oh my god or no way he just said that, your voice floating out like sugar-sweet static.

But then he hears it. Clear as day.

“Oh my god, he’s soooo hot.”

Satoru stops dead in his tracks, halfway past the office door. Eyebrow twitching. Lips parting in quiet betrayal. He tilts his head, as if trying to hear it again. Surely he misheard, right? You couldn’t possibly have said that about a man that wasn’t him. Right?

His voice echoes in his head, smug and self-assured: You’re dating Gojo Satoru. There is no man hotter.

...And yet here you are, giggling like a schoolgirl over some random slice of man. A man who couldn't even protect you properly.

Fine. Fiiiine. He sees how it is.

So when your little watch party wraps up and you waltz into the living room all smiley and glowing, still soft and warm from friendship and fictional men, you find your real-life boyfriend lounging on the couch, legs spread wide, baby blues fixed on Digimon and totally ignoring you.

You pad up to him in fuzzy socks and one of his shirts, arms already reaching for his lap, but...bonk.

You smack right into a wall of nothingness. Your hands flail, fingertips scraping at thin air. “…Huh?” He doesn’t even look at you.

Satoru pops a piece of popcorn into his mouth, face blank with faux innocence. “Oh, what’s wrong, baby?” he coos, the most obvious pout in the world tugging at his lips. “Can’t cuddle me? Awww. That’s so sad.”

You narrow your eyes. “Satoru.”

“Maybe,” he says, glancing at you now with a grin that is way too satisfied, “maybe you should just go to your other boyfriend. Y’know. The one that’s soooo hot.”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious right now?!”

He just hums. “I mean, I get it. He’s got the sparkles, the background music, the tragic backstory - must be hard to resist.”

“Satoru.”

“Oh nooo,” he mocks, high-pitched and bratty, holding up his arms just out of reach while you try to shove your way through his Infinity. “Is baby sad? Is baby desperate for cuddles now? Should’ve thought of that before you committed adultery.”

You drop to your knees in front of the couch, pleading and begging with the cutest pout you could muster. “Nooooo, baby, please!”

He peeks over the edge, amused. “You begging now?”

You clasp your hands together like you’re praying. “You’re so hot. So sexy. So strong. You’re the hottest man alive. You’re hotter than any k-drama lead.”

He pauses for a few moments, just looking at you, the popcorn bowl tilts. His smugness wavers and he lunges straight at you.

You yelp as he drops Infinity and tackles you onto the carpet, arms wrapping around you in a flurry of laughter and wandering hands.

“Nooooo!” you shriek, giggling as his hands go for your sides, fingers dancing like he’s been waiting for an excuse to tickle you to tears. “Noooo, Satoru, mercy!!”

“Say it louder!” he grins, breathless with delight. “Say I’m hotter than everyone!”

“You’re hotter than every fictional man I’ve ever simped for!” you cry between wheezes. “You’re my sexy real-life boyfriend, oh my god - Satoru - ”

Only then does he stop, collapsing half on top of you, half off, his breath brushing against your cheek as the giggles finally fade into quiet panting.

He nuzzles into your neck, still smug but now a little sleepy. “Damn right I am,” he mumbles. “You’re lucky I’m such a forgiving boyfriend.”

You curl into him, still catching your breath, fingers twining into the softness of his hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re petty.”

He snorts. You smile. And then, finally, he lets you cuddle him again.

Not because you earned it, of course. No, no. He’s simply a generous god. One who loves you way too much to keep up the act for long.

Even if he is setting a two-week ban on your crunchyroll account.

[luvsymai]

You know that one guy who interviews random people in Japan until he becomes fluent in Japanese? Yeah… that’s basically you now. You’ve just moved to Japan for university, barely scraping by with the basics of the language, but you’re getting better, one awkward conversation at a time.

Which brings you to him.

You spot him on the street, tall, blindingly pretty, sunglasses perched on snowy hair. You muster the courage to ask for an interview for your language class project. Your Japanese is wobbly at best, but you’re determined. You bow politely, notebook clutched to your chest, and ask as clearly as you can.

Satoru points to himself, brows rising, then breaks into the biggest grin. “Me?” he asks, pointing a finger at his chest. “You wanna talk to me?”

He thinks you’re flirting. You think he’s just being nice.

But the interview begins, with him trying to answer in English to “help you,” and you fumbling your way through Japanese to “practice.” Neither of you fully understands the other, but there’s so much smiling and laughter that it hardly matters. Every other sentence is a soft "Eh?" or a giggly, “Ahhh! Wakaranai!”

Still, somehow, the conversation flows.

At the end, after you’ve closed your notebook and bowed in thanks, he looks at you, cheeks a little pink, and carefully says: “Ano… boku to… dēto shite kurenai…?”

The words come out a little fast, a little shy, almost like he’s scared he messed it up. Then, seeing your puzzled look, he switches to English with a hopeful little bounce: “Date! Da-te? You and me?”

And god, he’s so proud of himself. Beaming when you hand him your email. A tad bit confused why it's not your number but the man will take what he can get.

[luvsymai]

I think it's so funny how rins legits so gorgeous like wow he's so jawdroppingly beautiful and then isagi looks like a dad coming to the beach with his kids, he brought a pinata with him too btw.

[luvsymai]

🎧 aftertaste. by cherry.

now playing: no. 1 party anthem.

an itoshi sae x reader collection inspired by Arctic Monkeys’ AM album.

✦ synopsis: you haven't loved anyone since him. but in a room full of people trying to live, you’re just trying to forget. until he shows up.

✦ contains: emotional pain, toxic coping mechanisms, mentions of substance use, anxiety, yearning, exes with unresolved tension.

✦ note: since this is the first post for my aftertaste series, i understand if the context seems hazy or vague. but just note that it’s intended to be that way to replicate how memories are — think of it as a puzzle, you piece the memories together to form a story :)

✦ word count: 0.9k words.

read more: aftertaste ✩ masterlist — itoshi sae.

you were surrounded by warm disco lights, the blur of people dancing on the dance floor. the unfamiliarity of it all, despite repeating this routine every weekend.

1 year and 7 months.

that’s how long it’s been since you broke up with your ex — since you’ve been loved — or at least felt like you were.

by itoshi sae.

you haven’t dated anyone since. not because you didn’t want to, but because you couldn’t. it felt impossible — like your heart was wired for only one person. like you weren’t made to love anyone but him.

and he wasn’t made to love you back.

at least not in the way you needed him to. you knew that. had always known. knew it was too much for him — that you were too much for him. and selfishly, you still held on. still hoped he’d set everything else aside, even when you knew he couldn’t. you wanted him to choose you, even if it would’ve cost him everything.

you dated him knowing the answer, but still asked the question. and maybe that was your mistake. or maybe that was your karma — loving him anyway. someone who was never meant to stay. or to be loved by someone who couldn’t.

so you fell into old habits. drinking, partying, getting high. a few drugs here and there. flings. one-night stands. anything to take your mind off him. anything to pretend your heart wasn’t still bleeding where he left it. nothing fixed the pieces that shattered. some went missing. some were probably still with him.

you found yourself standing in the middle of yet another crowded room, drowning in the deafening bass of the music, unpleasantly intoxicating perfumes and colours that gave you headaches as you scanned the crowd for your next target — anyone who might make you forget. just for one night.

then you caught someone’s smile. a guy, kind-looking. familiar in that dreamy, party sort of way. you smiled back. you took the chance. you walked over. but when you tried to talk to him — he blinked, a little surprised, and gently told you he had a girlfriend. he smiled, but not the way you thought he did before.

“sorry,” he said. “i just smiled to be polite. i tend to do that.”

and that was that. you shrugged it off, walked away with an embarrassed smile, humiliation heavy in your chest.

they had that look in their eyes — the kind that made everything around them blur a little.

you recognised it instantly.

because you used to look at someone that way, too.

the look of love.

not the complicated kind. not the kind that hurts or asks you to wait.

just love, in its simplest form.

and for a second, it made your chest ache — not from jealousy, but from remembering what it felt like to be sure.

then everything felt like it started closing in. like you suddenly became too aware of everything — the music, the lights, the people laughing like they’d never been heartbroken. your chest tightened. the air felt too thick to breathe. everyone’s faces were too happy, too loud, too alive.

you felt like the only one dying quietly in a room full of people trying to live. and you were tired of it. sick of all this. you were tired of falling for anyone who showed you even the slightest bit of interest — just to see if someone, or anyone, might love you back.

you speed-walked towards the exit, eyes to the floor, hoping no one would look at you. because every eye felt like a mirror, and you couldn’t bear to see yourself anymore.

and then you bumped into someone. hard. shoulder to chest.

you started to apologise, words already tumbling out of your mouth — until you looked up.

teal eyes.

the kind that knew too much. the kind you used to love.

itoshi sae.

a wave of… something washed over you. not shock. not pain. something quieter, or sadder. something like nostalgia and longing.

and it tasted bitter.

his hand was already on your arm, steadying you. he didn’t let go right away. his fingers traced gently down from your forearm, to your elbow, to your hand — a familiar gesture that used to soothe you. but now it just made you want to cry.

his voice came softer than you expected. low and gentle. maybe a little pleading. maybe just tired.

“i thought you quit your old habits,” he murmured. “like you said you would.”

you couldn’t answer him. not when your chest was burning with shame. not when your eyes were already stinging.

silence.

all the words you should’ve said got stuck in your throat.

he looked at you for a long time. then finally asked, “you okay?”

you blinked once. swallowed the lump in your throat, somehow managing to choke something out to answer him.

“…yeah,” you whispered.

it sounded like a lie, even to yourself.

you looked at him. really looked at him now. maybe for the last time. with the same gaze. the same silence. the same ache.

“why are you here?” you asked, voice barely louder than the music shaking the entire room.

he hesitated. his eyes dropped to your hand, still barely touching his.

“got a call,” he said eventually. “someone told me you were here.”

your heart did that thing again. you felt nauseous.

“…why did you come?”

you didn’t mean for it to come out broken, but it did. because it mattered. because you needed to know.

why now? why him? why still?

sae didn’t answer. he looked at you the way people look at things they want to keep, but know they can’t.

your chest tightened.

but just as his lips parted to respond, you stopped him. “don’t say it.”

your voice cut through the silence. soft. almost pleading. painful.

you shook your head. just barely. a breath trembled against your lips.

“…we should stop this,” you said.

you didn’t look at him. you couldn’t. didn’t quite look at yourself either.

then you stepped back. walked past him.

and once again,

the cycle repeats.

👥 listeners. taglist open! @kuronarnze @zhongchithoughts @ysvanielle @floweiralx @peaktora @kaalwanan @simp4myself @cruziival72 @elliehenry24 @fiestvr @scarlettstrawberrys @itsckbaby @kaz-0e @pawcider @miffynagiis

© sinsxo ‘ white divider by @enchanthings-a

[luvsymai]

Sae who randomly pinches you mid conversation just so you forget what you were talking about because he thinks your clueless face is endearing.

Isagi who keeps your belongings whenever he’s away from you, like hair ties around his wrist and using your water bottles (that you weren’t currently using) cause he thinks everytime he takes a sip he’s getting an indirect kiss from you.

Bachira who blows cold wind on your face when you scold him so you are momentarily distracted, which gets him an even harsher scolding.

Otoya who takes advantage of the moments where you carry a lot of stuff or heavy stuff so he can push your knees from behind to make them buckle and make you fall before catching you like he’s some kind of savior.

Rin who hates pda but make subtle actions like drinking from the same side from your cup and cover the edges of tables when you go to pick something up (his love isn’t loud, but reassuring).

[luvsymai]

CAN YOU PLSPLS DO ITOSHI SAE TEXTSS ?? feel free to ignore thoo 🫶🫶

YESSS OFC THANK YOU

random sae texts

itoshi sae x gn!reader. smau texts

[luvsymai]

Wife!Reader who somehow gains the ability to read her husband!Sukuna's thoughts and realising the fact that her usually scowling and mean husband has the sweetest thoughts about her.

'Where the hell is she—Oh, there she is. Hmm, she's watching her favourite show. Isn't she on episode 21?' And then he saunters over, fixing the TV with a disinterested gaze as he asks you: "The hell are you watching, woman?" right before the title card of episode 21 pops up.

'She's shivering. Better turn the thermostat up.' And then he gets up, grumbling and mumbling about why it is so damn cold as he increases the temperature while you hear is thoughts whisper: 'I'm not cold.'

"Sukuna, did you eat the slice of cake I was saving?!" You question your husband sternly while he's lounging on the sofa. At first he denies, but then he relents. "Fine, fine. I'll buy you that cake and won't do it again. Sheesh, woman. I was just hungry." 'Fuck, she's so cute when she's mad. Of course I'm gonna to that again.' And you're left blushing softly and mumble for him to keep his promise and drop the subject.

His 'god I love her so much' when you were laughing at one of his jokes while the two of you were just sitting together and talking. It made you freeze and look at him. You manage to catch the soft and warm expression on his face for just a split second before his lips curled up into a devious smirk. "You're staring too hard, wife. See something you like?"

And the one that caught you off guard the most? When Jin asked the two of you to babysit baby Yuuji. You were rocking him in your arms, cooing at him and singing softly and then out of nowhere you hear his voice go: 'That should be ours, not Jin's. Fuck—yeah—I think it's time we get a brat of our own... Now how the hell do I convince her to get off the pill?' You almost dropped the poor baby from your arms.

You also stop taking your pills later that night.

[luvsymai]

𝐫𝐛𝐟 - 𝐟𝐭; 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢, 𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ; it was never your intention to appear this way—it really wasn’t. but maybe he might look past that.

𝐟𝐭 ; isagi yoichi, Itoshi rin (separately)

𝐜𝐰 ; afab!reader, reader has an rbf, swearing, reader gets made fun of, isagi falls HARD (and so does rin but shhh)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; an rbf is a resting bitch face. basically, it’s when your resting face or neutral expression looks mad or unpleasant and unapproachable, even if it’s unintentional.

i hate my rbf sm💔

@kxsagi come get your awkward ass man

𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢

isagi hurried onto the train, releasing a long sigh of relief when he successfully made it onto the vehicle before the door closed. his bag was slung over his shoulder. this was going to be a 3 hour ride, so hopefully there would be lots of free seats to choose from—

wait, why was there only one free seat?

he stared at the singular unoccupied seat, and it wasn’t next to someone he was familiar with or has talked to much before. it was next to you.

isagi didn’t have anything against you; it’s just that you scared him. horrified him, even. and many other people as well. you always looked annoyed or mad about something and it always seemed like you were moments away from having a yelling match with anyone who you laid your eyes on.

basically, you were intimidating. horrifyingly so.

he waddled his way to the seat next to you, glancing at some of his teammates mouth him an “im sorry” or “she’s so weird” at him. he sighed, there was no need to be mean about this, no matter how scary you seemed.

he sat next to you, placing his bag underneath his seat. “uh, hi.” he stammered. you had the window seat, so he was stuck with a not so great view. “great weather today.”

“mhm.” you hummed, glancing at him and nodding. “hi.”

back to awkwardness. isagi shook his legs; if this was going to be the entire train ride, then this was going to be the most torturous three hours of his entire life. the train started, and isagi stared outside.

“uh, ah, um…the grass is green outside, just like the grass on the soccer field. not that it’s real grass, of course! i mean, the grass on the soccer field doesn’t have cows or sheep or stuff, it was soccer balls…! never mind.” this is dumb, isagi thought to himself. he was ready to die of embarrassment. he stared down at his shoes, face burning.

“hmph—wow.”

isagi’s eyes shot up, jaw going slack. was that a giggle he just heard? he stared at you; the small curve of your lips, the tiny crinkle of your eyes, the pastel red of your cheeks.

were you always able to make this sort of expression. “you’re really bad at this, y’know. humor.” you snorted. “but seriously, don’t ever become a stand up comedian. you’d be dirt poor and homeless.”

“and yet you’re laughing the hardest right now!” isagi exclaimed, a smile finding its way onto his own lips. his eyes softened; people made fun of you because of…what? your resting face was bitchy?

because right now, all he could see if an expression so beautiful that it deserved to be in the finest of golden frames and hung up in the most prestigious museums.

“yeah, yeah.” you huffed. isagi’s heart stuttered, skipping 11 beats at once. for some reason, his face was starting to heat up. “woah, no need to get embarrassed.”

“i’m not!” he attempted to hit you playfully.

the other students stared. you were in the window seat, so no one else could see you. but in all of their heads, a single thought ran through their minds: is isagi schizophrenic?

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧

“here’s your ticket.”

rin walked to the train seat displayed on his ticket, placing his bag on the rack and sitting in the window seat. hopefully his seat partner wouldn’t be an annoying nag.

he learned his head on the window, trying to find a comfortable position. he then heard footsteps approaching as he looked up; looks like you were going to be the one sitting next to him.

you had a resting face ripped straight out of a horror movie, but at least you were someone quiet. he ignored you as you sat, hoping that you wouldn’t need him for anything this whole ride.

“oh my gosh, of course they’re seated together.”

“rin’s hot, but he’s soooo mean. and so is she. at least that saves us from the trouble of having one of them as our seat partners.”

“they should date just to save us the worries of one of them liking us.”

“she’s so scary. why does she always look so angry?”

how lukewarm.

honestly, people just can’t seem to mind their own business. he saw you clutching your uniform, sighing. he rolled his eyes.

“in a few hours, their cheers and insults will turn into homesick yawns and cries.” he drawled. hopefully you’d be reassured enough to not bother him with questions or doubts during the ride.

but instead, you laughed.

rin shouldn’t react. he had no need to. and yet he found himself immediately turning his head back to stare, his eyes widening.

the world around you was rainy. gray, almost. and yet you were so colorful; so vibrant—vivid. the quirk of the corners of your lips, the small light in your eyes. everything was perfect.

you were so beautiful.

why was someone like you sitting next to him?

“out of every way that you could have worded that, the one you picked was surely the weirdest one.” you snorted, giggling.

rin blinked a few times before placing his elbow on the armchair, his chin on his palm. “tch. it’s just some wording. no need to overreact.”

he just couldn’t get the image of your smile of out of his.

people were only scared of your rbf because they didn’t try to make you laugh. cowards.

rin would make you laugh just to see that dumb, pure smile again. he swore it.

[luvsymai]

Peak fan service in anime was when Furudate gave Oikawa glasses and made him analyze Karasuno vs Shiratorizawa while Iwaizumi sat there in casual clothes calling him a shitty person.

[luvsymai]

I feel like yukimiya would have such a cute meet when he met his girlfriend. like sometbjbt where like reader plays soccer and is practicing at a park and like her balls rolls to yukimiyas feet.

I LOVE MEET CUTES YESS

meet cute with yuki

yukimiya kenyu x fem!reader. fluff fluff fluff!

“girl, you need to work on your passes,” your friend snickered when you completely missed her again.

you groaned, frustrated. “sorry! i’m usually so on it.”

that wasn’t entirely true, but you were embarrassed by your bad passes. you’d always wanted to play soccer, despite having no experience on the field, and your friend on the girls’ soccer team offered to teach you.

“you gotta use your hips more!” she said in her trainer voice. it made you pout. you thought you did use your hips.

catching the ball beneath your foot, you stepped back and twisted your body. she shot you a thumbs up in confirmation, and you ran forward to kick the ball. you must have done something wrong, because the ball flew in the opposite direction and nearly slammed into a boy walking with a book in his hand.

you opened your mouth to shout a warning, but the boy jumped up, catching the ball with his chest and letting it fall onto his propped foot.

you stared, mouth agape, as he dribbled the ball twice before neatly passing it back. it slowed to a stop a millimeter away from the toe of your shoe.

lifting your head from the ball to the boy, you felt a blush on your cheeks. whether it was due to embarrassment or his handsomeness, you weren’t sure.

thankfully, your friend came running over to save you. “i’m so sorry! we’re training; she’s still new to this.”

yukimiya smiled softly, shaking his head. “it’s alright. no harm done.”

your friend gave you a gentle nudge, pushing you to speak, but you were frozen for a moment, wide-eyed, nervous, and unsure how to recover from looking so ridiculous in front of someone so pretty.

“thank you for, uh.. not letting it hit you,” you finally managed, the words falling awkwardly from your mouth.

yukimiya’s smile only grew at your soft-spoken gratitude. “it’s no problem. your form wasn’t bad, by the way,” he said, glancing down at the ball between you. “you just need to turn your hips a little more toward your target. it’ll help your accuracy.”

you blinked, surprised by his kindness and his willingness to give you advice. “oh. thank you.”

your friend, already sensing something blooming, excused herself with a sly grin and a lame excuse to grab water. you were too distracted by the boy in front of you to question her motives.

“do you play?” you asked, eyes locked on his as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“hm? oh, yes,” yukimiya nodded, looking a little sheepish. “yukimiya kenyu. i play professionally. or, i’m trying to.” he laughed softly, like he didn’t want to sound like he was bragging.

your stomach flipped. you’d heard that name before. what was it called… blue lock? the team that played against japan in the u20 match. maybe even from a clothing ad?

“ah. i think i’ve seen you on tv before.”

“that’s a little embarrassing,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “but it’s nice to meet you...?”

"huh? oh, right!" you told him your name, stumbling a bit when he repeated it softly, as if committing it to memory.

“i hope you won’t mind me saying this, but you look very pretty when you’re focused.” his compliment was so gentle and sincere that it had your face burning hotter than ever. “if you ever want, i could show you a few passing drills. something simple to practice.”

your heart thumped. “really? you’d help me?”

“of course,” yukimiya said, stepping back and gesturing toward the ball with a small, encouraging smile. “soccer’s more fun when you’re playing with others, don’t you think?”

and so you passed the ball again, still clumsy, but better in his presence. yukimiya laughed, not at you, but warmly, like he already adored your effort.

“good,” he said, stopping the ball with ease. “again. let’s keep going.”

you didn’t realize how long you stayed in that park, but you left that day with a little more skill, a lot more blush, and yukimiya’s number tucked safely into your phone.

[luvsymai]

imagine getting caught making out with the blue lock boys

“𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞”

a/n: i had fun writing this so i need more suggestive requests (when my requests are open again)

SUGGESTIVE SUGGESTIVE SUGGESTIVE

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, karasu tabito, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

yoichi didn’t mean to go feral behind the bleachers. but the second you smiled at him like that? it was over for him. 

“just a quick kiss before practice,” you’d whispered. 

he nodded. like a fool. 

but the moment your lips touched, something unholy possessed him. suddenly his hands were on your waist, his back arched like a victorian damsel, and he was full-on moaning into your mouth like you just saved him from emotional starvation. 

his voice was soft between kisses: “i missed you, i missed you so much today even though i saw you this morning and i can’t focus when you’re not around–” 

and bam. 

bachira. holding a banana and jaw on the ground. 

“YOICHI, ARE YOU EATING HER FACE???” 

isagi tried to act cool, failed instantly. you both nearly knocked each other over scrambling to pretend you were tying shoes. 

“this isn’t what it looks like–” “bro you were five seconds away from fusion-dancing into one person.” 

bachira doesn’t let you live it down. 

isagi now double-checks every corner like you’re in a heist movie before he kisses you. 

still asks for kisses. constantly. especially when no one’s watching. 

“... now that we’re alone, can i hold your face again? i’ll behave this time. probably.” 

itoshi rin

rin is not affectionate in public. that’s a given. 

so when you coaxed him into one kiss while watching a movie in his living room? you weren’t expecting him to grab your face like it was the last thing keeping him alive. 

it was slow. delicate. his hands gentle like you were breakable. 

but then it got needy. desperate. the kind of kiss that said “i haven’t stopped thinking about you for twelve hours straight and it’s making me crazy.” 

his lips were warm against yours and he was muttering stuff between kisses like “you smell good. you always smell good. it’s so annoying.” “stop looking at me like that. you’re gonna make me stupid.” 

you had just climbed into his lap when sae walked in. with a bag of snacks. froze in the doorway like he just stepped into a fanfic. 

“... you kiss now?” he said blankly. “you’re capable of affection? is this a hostage situation?” 

rin shoved a pillow at him like a feral raccoon. he didn’t talk to anyone for two days. 

but later that night, when you tried to sneak off, he grabbed your wrist. “... stay. i’m not done kissing you.” 

itoshi sae

this man has zero shame. none. 

you were just grabbing a glass of water in the kitchen. he walked in, saw you in your hoodie and messy hair, and went weak in the knees. 

grabbed your waist, tugged you closer, and kissed you like a man home from war. 

his voice against your mouth was low, teasing. “you know what you do to me when you look like that?” “you’re lucky i have self-control. barely.” 

had you pinned to the counter, hands under your shirt, when his mom walked in. 

gasped. dropped a bag of groceries. 

“SAE ITOSHI WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” 

you nearly collapsed. sae just licked his lips and blinked slowly like, “... hydrating.” 

“YOU WERE SUCKING HER SOUL OUT.” 

the next day she made you both sit at opposite ends of the dining table like you were 1800s courtship partners. 

sae? still found ways to sneak foot touches under the table. 

“you’re lucky she walked in. i wasn’t done.” 

kaiser michael

you made the terrible mistake of kissing this man in private. because once he has a taste, he wants all of you. 

he backed you into a wall, hands flat on the sides of your head, eyes all half-lidded like: “you started this. i’m just finishing it.” 

full tongue, slow neck kisses, a bite to your lip that made your brain short circuit. 

you two were seconds away from crime when ness walked in. and gasped like a betrayed wife. 

“YOU SAID YOU NEEDED ALONE TIME TO ‘CLEAR YOUR HEAD,’ NOT PLAY TONSIL HOCKEY.” 

kaiser? absolutely unbothered. “you’re just mad i didn’t invite you.” 

ness left the room shrieking. 

you were hiding your face in kaiser’s chest, dying of shame, while he kept stroking your hair like, “you okay? we can continue. i locked the door this time.” 

shidou ryusei

you were sitting on his lap, kissing him slow and sweet. and shidou was whimpering. whimpering. 

fingers digging into your hips, breath shaking like you were kissing the oxygen out of him. 

“fuck, baby, do you even know what you’re doing to me?” “look at you, look how hot you are, god–” 

he tilted his head back like you were the sun and he was in desperate need of salvation. 

and then you both heard a cough. his coach: ego. standing in the doorway. staring like he saw satan himself. 

“shidou ryusei. clothes. now.” 

shidou just leaned up to whisper in your ear: “i can outrun him. wanna finish in the shower?” 

you’ve never smacked someone with a couch cushion so fast in your life. 

mikage reo

you pulled him into a quiet garden corner at his estate. blossoms falling. birds chirping. romantic as hell. 

reo? immediately dropped his rich boy act and melted into your arms. 

you were straddling him on a marble bench when he started mumbling: “marry me.” “no seriously. we should just elope. like right now.” “my parents can fund the wedding, i’ll fake faint so we can run away.” 

he was so down bad, whispering between kisses: “you make me insane, i think i’m obsessed, is that normal? say it’s normal.” 

and then you heard a very polite cough. his butler, ba-ya. 

“reo-sama… your father is– oh. apologies.” 

you jumped off reo like he was on fire. 

reo literally threw his suit jacket over your head to protect your honor. 

he later gave his butler a raise for “protecting their romantic privacy.” 

rich boy behavior. 

nagi seishiro

you were on his bed. half-asleep, cuddling. 

he rolled over. kissed your nose. and suddenly it was the makeout session of the century. 

sleepy, lazy, slow kisses. soft whines when you pulled away. 

“c’mon. five more minutes. just five more…” 

you were mid-giggle, kissing his jaw, when reo opened the door. 

“HEY NAGI YOU SAID YOU’D–” pure silence. 

nagi blinked, eyes half-lidded. 

“close the door, bro.” “YOU’RE NAKED–” “i’m not. yet.” 

reo screamed. ran. 

nagi went back to kissing your neck. 

“i’m locking it next time. and unplugging the wifi. no interruptions.” 

karasu tabito

you got caught in the school storage room. classic. 

he was all over you. hands gripping your thighs. kisses messy, breathy, needy. 

“you’re not fair,” he mumbled into your mouth. “you walk around all cute and expect me to be normal?” 

your laugh had barely left your lips when the janitor appeared. 

mop fell. you screamed. karasu said: “sir, this isn’t what it looks like–” “it’s exactly what it looks like.” “... what’s your venmo?” 

you were banned from that closet. forever. 

karasu? brags about it to this day. 

“hey, remember that time you made out with me so hard the janitor cried? yeah. good times.” 

ness alexis

you kissed him once. and he melted. full face red. hands trembling. muttering “holy shit” over and over. 

then you pulled him back in. this time longer. deeper. and he let out a full-on moan. 

and then his teammate opened the door. 

“NESS???” 

ness yelped. tripped. nearly broke his ankle. 

“WE WERE– CPR. IT WAS MEDICAL.” 

you tried to help him up while he dramatically wailed like someone caught him cheating on a test. 

later he apologized 83 times. 

“you’re not mad, right? you’ll still kiss me again? eventually? like… now?” 

boy is down astronomically. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[luvsymai]

Who's house am I in?

summary: you're a villager from Pelican town, in Stardew Valley! People are whispering though, swapping stories about the strange, new fellow - you can't help but wonder what's really going on. Is he a new friend, or someone to be feared?

this is part 2, part 1 here - well, he's in your house. turns out, he is a little weird. when you part ways, someone's there to tell you more.

cw: sfw! satoru gojo x fem!reader, sdv! au, fluff (so far), small town things (gossip, Jodi is a little mean and you're a little angsty), mention of mental health (lowkey), lowkey angst (i love angst sm), theyre friends now! so cute - 1.7 k words

a/n: hello sdv is all that is in my brain rn and i will write it to get it out !! lets also suspend reality and pretend pierre does sell flower seeds in the winter

divider credit: @/strangergraphics

A pair of sharp blue eyes pin you mid-step as you walk in from the kitchen.  

He’s twisted in your sheets like a trapped animal, muscles taut, arms tense. His gaze sweeps the room — nothing catches his eye, his shoulders loosen. Yet, a wariness remains — sharpening every line of his face. 

“Good morning.” Your voice cracks, barely above a whisper. He watches you, eyes narrowed. “..Good morning,” he replies. 

“Coffee?” You raise the steaming mug, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremble of your pinky. 

Now what? You’ve never hauled a passed-out stranger home. Never tucked them into your bed while you wore your floorboards down, because what did you just do? It was easy to be brave in the moment and save him from the wintery night, but your earlier doubts came creeping back in. 

You really didn’t know this guy at all. You glance at the scars along his arms. Jagged, deliberate lines. Not the kind left from accidents.  

Your stomach twists. What kind of trouble did you invite into your bed?

“Who are you?” He says slowly, enunciating every syllable. Voice low and deliberate.  

“[your name]. Fisher,” you blurt out, cheeks warm. Well. This wasn’t how you planned on introducing yourself. 

He returns the favour. “Satoru Gojo. Miner. Farmer.” The clock ticks on, each second louder than the last. 

A beat. Your eyes dart to the side, fingers twisting in your shirt. Satoru’s gaze drifts to the side, like he’s deep in thought. No one says anything.

This is awkward. 

“So, what am I doing here?” Satoru finally asks the question you’ve been anticipating, gaze sharpening on you.  

You exhale, heart hammering. “You were lying there, knocked out. It’s Winter,” you say, “didn’t want you to freeze to death.” Satoru just listens, watching you carefully. 

“Sorry… I would have carried you to your house but I don’t know where you live, and Linus —”

“Is that his name?” Satoru muses. “Huh. Good to know. I’ll have to thank him, if I see him.” 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to do that,” you quip, “He’s been picking your pocket for change.” You wince. Sorry, Linus. 

One side of his mouth lifts into a half-smile. “Figures,” he mutters. A pause. “Thank you. For helping me.”

The air in the room softens, and you return the smile — sheepish. 

“Yeah, well,” you say, offering the coffee. “It’s not exactly safe to be passed out in the middle of town at night.” It’s not like you could’ve just walked by and pretended not to see. 

He takes the mug from you, his fingers grazing yours — a jolt of cold through your veins. “Mm,” Satoru hums, taking a sip. “I’m usually more careful. Must’ve gotten too tired.”

The silence stretches, awkward but not uncomfortable. He leans back against your headboard, regarding you. Eyes sharp, but no longer wary, no longer threatening 

“So, Captain,” he drawls, flicking his gaze to the worn fisherman’s hat on your dresser, and the fishing pole right beside it, “do you always drag strangers into your house when they’re half-dead on the street?”

Captain? Is he serious? 

You shrug, a small movement. “No,” you admit, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Only the really suspicious ones.” 

You glance down at your own hands — still trembling, still unsure. It was easier to pretend that you were just being decent, that no one else would’ve done it. But the truth was, there was something in his shaking, fragile form then, that drew you to him. 

You wanted to — no, needed to — know him. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Lucky me,” he says, eyes glinting. 

Head whipping to the side, you cross your arms to regain some control. “Don’t get used to it,” you mutter. 

Satoru tilts his head, considering your defensive stance. “Don’t worry,” he says softly. “I don’t plan on staying long.” 

Disappointment, rock-heavy, sinks like a sack tossed into churning waters in your stomach. You don’t know why. You’ve only known the man for all of five minutes. Something sharp tugs at your chest. What were you expecting — that he’d stick around? Internally, you sigh, already mourning the loss of this interesting character. 

You force a laugh, though it’s brittle. “Okay, good, cause you’re getting evicted like…right now,” you say, drawing the curtains back and letting the light stream in. 

The morning rays of sun spills across his face, illuminating the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the quiet exhaustion in his eyes. “Give me a minute.”

It takes thirty minutes, but Satoru eventually leaves your bed. Now, you’re both standing in the foyer. He’s eying the shield hanging on the wall, hands shoved into his pockets. 

“See you around?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he says, turning away. 

And the door slams behind him. 

And you start getting ready for your day. 

- 

The grocery store’s lights cast everything in a warm glow. You push your cart forward, wondering if you should pick up some seeds — bring some colour into your garden, and maybe coax bees into your yard come Spring. 

Then, movement catches your eye. 

There — at the end of the aisle, by the cheap coffee — is Satoru Gojo, staring at a can of instant brew like it might reveal the secrets of the universe. 

You freeze. Now, what do you say to someone who was just in your bed? 

“Fancy seeing you here.” The words tumble out, safe and casual. 

His head snaps up. You see the recognition, the quick flicker of surprise. “Oh, it’s you,” he says, like he’s not quite sure why you’re talking to him. 

“Stocking up on….coffee?”

His lips twitch. “Yeah, gotta stay awake, y’know?” Satoru says it like an inside joke. 

A silence stretches, taut as a fishing line. Averting his eyes, you glance at your cart — a sad array of bread, milk, and instant ramen — and then back at him. He’s already looking at you. 

Mind scrambling, you just want to say something — anything. “Why do you go through people’s trash?” you ask. The words are out before you can stop them, and you instantly wish you could take them back. 

Satoru’s eyebrows disappear into his hair, amused. “You never know what treasures you may find,” he states, like it’s common sense. 

“Right, sure.” You were right. He is strange. The kind of strange you wanted to understand. 

The conversation feels like it’s come to a natural end. You excuse yourself, walking back to grab the bag of seeds. Packet in hand, you squeeze past Satoru to the cashiers. 

Well, you try to. 

“Flowers?”

You turn, surprised. “Yeah, I want to start a flower garden. And maybe own some bees, they sound cute.” 

Satoru studies you for a beat, his gaze unreadable. “They are extremely cute,” he pauses like he’s unsure, “..If you ever want help with them, I’m just a little ways west of Pierre’s.”

Before you can respond, he drops the can of coffee into his basket and starts to walk away, but not before tossing one last glance over his shoulder. 

“Oh, and Captain—”

You straighten, startled. 

“ —thanks for the coffee.”

Satoru exits the aisle, leaving you to stare at his retreating figure. Pierre takes his coins, wishes him a ‘Good day’, to which he just nods in response. The sliding doors finally slam softly shut, and you return to your shopping. Right before someone taps you on the shoulder. 

It’s gentle, it’s hesitant, it’s — 

“Jodi! So good to see you!” Smile plastered on your face, because you hope — you really hope — she isn’t about to —

“I saw you with our new resident,” she chirps, eyes sparking. “How is he settling in?” 

Translation: He’s weird. He’s definitely weird, right?

“Satoru? Yeah, um, good, I’d say,” you reply. Mentioning this morning would just feed town gossip. 

Jodi nods, eyes blazing. Expectant. Say more, they urge.  

Realising you’re unwilling to divulge, the light in her gaze shifts — curious, to covert. “I saw him come out of your house this morning,” she says, her smile is all teeth. 

You’ve been caught. “Oh, yeah. He wasn’t able to make it home in time, so I offered him a place to rest.” Well, you weren’t lying. You technically did give him shelter, just he didn’t realise it until the morning. 

Jodi’s face twists, eyebrows marrying together in concern and hesitance. “You’re such a sweet girl,” she titters, patting your shoulders. “But you ought to be more careful. Goodness knows who he really is.” She sighs, heavy and unrelenting. 

“You’ve heard the rumours too?” you question, though you’re not surprised she has. 

“That, and some,” Jodi hums. “Someone who strolls around the streets at night must be up to no good.” 

You’re indignant on Gojo’s behalf. How dare she make that assumption without even talking to him? You want to make her eat her words, but you don’t. Instead, you dig your nails into your palms, slap the smile back on. She’s not worth it.  

The wheels of your trolley begin squealing again, as you start walking away. “It was nice seeing you, Jodi.” 

“You, too! Stay safe.” She doesn’t even notice the resentment in your half-hearted wave. 

You’re still fuming on the walk home. The wind bites at your cheeks, carrying the sting of Jodi’s words with it. 

‘People who wander the streets at night’ ? Was she serious? Like Gojo was some kind of threat, like he hadn’t been shivering — clearly looking like he needed the help that no one wanted to offer him.

But sure, they were happy to talk about him. Happy to judge him, when he’s clearly not okay. Because no one works themselves to exhaustion, just because they want to. 

Jodi’s voice rings in your head, thin and patronising: ‘Up to no good.’ 

You grit your teeth. 

You know what he’s up to, at least for now. He’s surviving. Like you. Like everyone else. 

The foyer is cold. You set the bags down in the kitchen, pouring yourself some hot chocolate. 

A knock on the door makes you jump. Your heart skips, thrumming painfully in your chest. 

You set the mug down, moving to the door with cautious steps. 

It’s probably nothing. Just the wind rattling a branch against the frame or something. 

But when you open the door, he’s standing there — Satoru, with snow dusting his hair and that same searching look in his eyes, 

“Hey,” he murmurs, “Can I…come in?”

And just like that, your heart is back in your throat. 

© 2025 letteremi. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost my work to any platforms 

[luvsymai]

The New Guy in Town

summary: you're a villager from Pelican town, in Stardew Valley! People are whispering though, swapping stories about the strange, new fellow - you can't help but wonder what's really going on. Is he a new friend, or someone to be feared?

(set in Stardew Valley, where you can farm, fish, and build relationships with the townsfolk - some game mechanics mentioned)

cw: sfw! satoru gojo x reader, sdv! au, fluff (so far), small town things - 915 words

a/n: might be a series (part one?), also should be studying but the idea wormed itself into my brain and now we're here

part two here

Credit to @strangergraphics for the divider! inspired me in the first place cause pretty flowers <3

The news spread fast. A man with white hair was digging into trash cans in broad daylight — expertly avoiding eye contact and running for the hills when a villager strolled by.

Sometimes, he’d be found passed out in the middle of the night, and Linus would complain (to whoever would listen) of the rocks stuffed in his backpack — makes him a real pain to drag home, so I take a little something for repayment! He’d chuckle, skipping pebbles as he recounted the story to you, perched on the stone beside him. 

Chin in hand, you tilted your head towards the older man. “What an interesting character,” you mused. 

“Oh! I’ve heard of him too!” Haley exclaimed, her delicate hands flying to her mouth. Soft winds caressed her hair, as she balanced atop the fallen log. Click! The perfect shot, you smiled, digicam in hand and motioning her over. 

“Honestly, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy,” she says, hopping off the trunk and floating over, “Gross? Yeah, definitely. Irredeemable? No.” 

“I think you’re right,” you reply, “But I don’t really know him — haven’t even seen him around — so I can’t comment…” 

Haley hums in agreement, peering beside you at the photos. A delighted gasp escapes her lips. “You’re so good at taking photos, [name]! These look so good!” She’s clapping now, short, and sweet. 

“The photos always turn out good because you’re modelling,” you nudge her shoulder, and she giggles, before dragging you to the grassy ground. 

“You big flirt!” Haley lightly shoves you back. A beat later, her voice drops conspiratory and low, “I’ve also heard that he doesn’t really talk to anyone else in Pelican town. The other townies are kinda scared of him too, they speak about him in hushed towns and scurry away when he comes near. He’s been here for weeks — weeks! — and he hasn’t joined in any community events, or festivals. My sister tried reaching out to him, but he just smiled, and said ‘maybe next time’.” 

Haley’s older sister, Emily, was so welcoming and open. You’ve been gifted a few precious stones from her before — she claimed they would help the energy of the house, and bless your fishing. If Emily couldn’t get through to him…

You hum thoughtfully, “Oh well. Maybe he’ll warm up over the next few years. Let’s leave him be.” Though, you can’t help the curiosity that blooms in your chest. 

Haley laughs, “Yes. Let’s leave him be!”

“Now,” she’s rummaging through her little leather bag, and pulling out a light blue cardigan, “What do you think of this?” 

-

Haley dashed off when she saw the moon beginning to climb the sky — Emily’s going to be furious. You waved her off, and pulled out the rod and bait. Fishing time!

Fishing at night brought you many opportunities. One: rare and exotic fish swam up from the depths; they were pretty to look at, all glittering scales and perplexed expressions. Two: they sold for a pretty penny, and you did love having extra cash on hand. Three: barely anyone was around at the late hour; you wouldn’t trade the peace of the night for anything. 

The quiet always gives your mind too much space to wander. Tonight, it wandered straight to the town’s newest oddball. 

The tight-knit community of Pelican town was quite intimidating — even you, with a family name that went back generations, sometimes felt like an outsider. But then again, digging through the trash? Your nose wrinkles at the thought. Linus mentioned that the man was a miner, so there’s no way he was short on cash — so why was he rummaging through garbage? You had to admit, it didn’t exactly make him look good. 

You shivered, remembering the way Linus had laughed when he’d mentioned the rocks in that man’s backpack. Maybe he was just strange, or maybe something sadder was going on. Remembered his small smile when Emily invited him — like some part of him was afraid to join, in disbelief that he would be welcomed. 

You recast your line and watched it ripple across the water. A large purple fish fights its way to the surface. Maybe he needed help. Maybe you owed it to him to at least try. Tomorrow, you thought, lips pressing into a determined line. 

Tomorrow, you’d talk to him. Packing your gear into a box, you set on the road home.

Underneath one of the lamp posts, lay a mop of snowy hair. This time, instead of a bag of rocks, he’s clutching books close to his chest — agricultural books? 

Oh dear. For all your talk, your palms still felt clammy as you wiped them on your jeans, your heart still got stuck in your dry throat. 

You wondered if Linus would know what to do. Should you get him? 

No. The bearded gentleman would just pickpocket this guy again. 

A minute later, you crouch next to his head, tapping his shoulder, and shivering as a gust of wind blows by. He doesn’t budge — knocked out cold. 

Peering down, you get a closer look at his face. Long lashes, barely kissing his pink cheeks, and the tip of his nose the same colour. At this rate, he’ll freeze to death. 

You place your gear box by the lamp, and the gravel crunches. 

Hoisting the man up, onto your back, you briefly wonder how this choice might change things. Either way, you’d get your answers soon, you conclude. Tonight, or tomorrow, or whenever he wakes up. 

© 2025 letteremi. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost my work to any platforms