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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 6 hours ago

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જ⁀♡⊹｡° what's meant to be will always find a way

( nanase nijiro x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — for my new childhood friends to lovers series :)

♡ word count — 1.9k

♡ content — nanase nijiro x fem! reader, fem! reader, coach's daughter! reader, reader's dad has been nanase's soccer coach basically his whole life, secret relationship, goes from when they're 8 to the U-20 game, let's pretend nanase played a bit in the U-20 game

♡ synopsis — All Nanase Nijirou ever wanted was to prove himself. Not just as a player but as the person who would always be worthy of your love.

Nanase Nijiro met you when he was just eight years old, all knobby knees and a crooked grin that didn’t quite match his quiet personality. Your dad was his little league soccer coach, and from the moment Nanase joined the team, your father’s voice seemed to boom louder whenever Nanase was around.

“This kid’s got potential,” your dad had said once, hands on his hips as he watched Nanase run drills. You were sitting nearby on the sidelines, clipboard balanced on your lap, dutifully helping keep score or jotting down notes like the perfect assistant.

Nanase thought you were intimidating, standing there like a miniature version of your father—sharp-eyed, quiet, and serious. He tried his best to avoid you at first, focusing on impressing the coach instead.

But fate had other plans.

During one particularly intense practice, Nanase tripped over the ball, tumbling hard onto the ground. The sting of scraped knees bit into his skin, and dirt clung to the fresh wounds. He bit back tears, willing himself to get back up before anyone noticed.

“Shake it off, Nanase!” your dad barked from across the field.

Before he could, though, you were already walking toward him, first-aid kit in hand.

“Sit down,” you ordered gently, kneeling beside him.

Nanase froze, unsure of what to say as you cleaned the dirt from his knees with an alcohol wipe. He flinched at the sting but tried to hide it, not wanting to seem weak in front of you.

“It’s not that bad,” he muttered.

You glanced up at him, unimpressed. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t play if you’re bleeding all over the field.”

Your hands worked quickly, applying bright, colorful bandages to his scraped knees. When you finished, you gave him a small smile.

“There. Now you’re good as new.”

Something shifted in that moment. Nanase stared at you, wide-eyed, as if seeing you for the first time. You weren’t as scary as he thought—just kind.

From then on, Nanase couldn’t help but gravitate toward you. During water breaks, he’d wander over to the sidelines, chatting with you about school, soccer, or whatever came to mind. He wasn’t naturally talkative, but around you, the words came easily.

You teased him about his growing habit. “You know, you’re supposed to practice during practice, right?”

“I’m taking a break,” he’d say, grinning sheepishly.

Somewhere between bandaged knees and quiet conversations, a friendship bloomed.

By the time you both reached junior high, you and Nanase were inseparable. He still played under your dad’s coaching, but now the practices were more intense, the stakes higher. Your dad pushed Nanase harder than ever, singling him out during drills and yelling at him to work harder.

“He’s only like this because he believes in you,” you’d remind Nanase after practice when he dragged himself to the bleachers, exhausted.

“I know,” he’d reply, his smile a little strained. “Doesn’t make it easier, though.”

You’d sit together for a while, watching the sunset paint the sky orange and pink. Sometimes, he’d lean over to peek at your notebook, curious about what you were sketching or writing.

“What’s this?” he’d ask, pointing at one of your doodles.

“Nothing important,” you’d say, closing the notebook quickly, but he’d grin, knowing you didn’t actually mind his nosiness.

By the time you both hit your final year of junior high, the lines of friendship had blurred into something more. It wasn’t sudden—more like a slow, inevitable shift. Lingering touches, the way his eyes lingered on you longer than before, the flutter in your chest when he smiled at you.

One evening after practice, while the rest of the team was packing up, Nanase pulled you aside behind the equipment shed.

“I, uh…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You tilted your head, curious. “What is it?”

“I like you,” he blurted out, his face red as he looked at the ground. “Like, really like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could overthink it, you leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I like you too,” you admitted softly, your face just as red as his.

That was how it started—your quiet, secret relationship.

Nanase respected your dad, a lot actually, but what your dad didn’t know was that Nanase had kissed you behind the equipment shed before almost every practice.

High school came with its own challenges. Your dad, still Nanase’s coach, watched him like a hawk.

“If you’re friends with my daughter, that’s fine,” your dad told him one day after practice, his tone firm. “But no dating. Got it?”

Nanase nodded obediently, but behind closed doors, nothing changed. If anything, your relationship only deepened.

One night during a particularly bad storm, you heard a faint tapping at your window. Nervously, you peeked out and saw Nanase standing there, drenched from head to toe.

“What are you doing?!” you whispered harshly as you opened the window, helping him climb inside.

“I figured you’d be scared,” he said, dripping water onto your floor.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you tossed him a towel. “You’re insane, you know that?”

He changed into the spare clothes you kept hidden for him, and the two of you curled up under your blankets. When the thunder roared, you gripped his arm tightly, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

By morning, the storm had passed, but the real trouble came when your dad knocked on your door.

“Sweetie?” he called, opening the door before you could answer.

You stood by your closet, your face burning red. “H-Hi, Dad!”

He frowned. “You’re all sweaty. You sick?”

“Nope! Just… couldn’t sleep because of the storm,” you stammered.

He nodded, eyeing you for a moment before leaving. The second the door shut, you opened your closet, and Nanase tumbled out, laughing quietly.

“You gotta go,” you whispered, trying not to laugh yourself.

Nanase grinned, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you. See you at school.”

When the Blue Lock letter arrived, you were sitting on Nanase’s bed, textbooks spread out as you studied together.

He opened the envelope, his eyes widening as he read the words.

“What is it?” you asked, sitting up straighter.

He handed you the letter, and your jaw dropped. “Nanase, this is amazing!”

But he didn’t look as thrilled as you expected.

“What about you?” he asked quietly. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Your excitement faltered as the reality hit you. If he went, things would change.

“Oh,” you murmured.

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to,” he said quickly, his voice filled with worry.

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “Don’t be stupid. This is your dream.”

“It’s not worth it if I lose you,” he whispered, his fingers brushing yours.

“You won’t,” you promised, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Blue Lock was unlike anything Nanase had ever experienced. The training was brutal, the pressure relentless, and the competition cutthroat. Yet, through all of it, he never took off the bracelet you made for him before he left—a simple cord with your favorite colors braided together.

At first, no one noticed it. But one day in the locker room, one of his teammates, a tall striker with a loud mouth and a knack for teasing, spotted it while Nanase was getting changed.

“Yo, Nanase,” the striker said, pointing at his wrist. “What’s with the bracelet? Got a girlfriend or something?”

Nanase froze for a moment, caught off guard. “Uh…”

The striker grinned, sensing an opportunity. “Oh, you do have a girlfriend. What, did she make that for you? That’s cute.”

Nanase turned red, instinctively pulling his wrist close to his chest. “It’s none of your business,” he mumbled.

But the striker wasn’t letting up. “Come on, man. Don’t be shy. What’s the deal? Is it like a good luck charm or something?”

Nanase tried to ignore him, but the teasing continued. Finally, something snapped.

“Yeah, she made it for me,” Nanase said, his voice louder than usual. “She spent hours on it, making sure it was perfect, even though I told her she didn’t have to. She’s the most supportive person I’ve ever known. She’s been there for me since we were kids—every practice, every game, cheering me on, even when I didn’t believe in myself. This bracelet reminds me of her and everything I’m fighting for here. So yeah, it’s important to me. You got a problem with that?”

The locker room went silent.

The striker blinked, stunned by the outburst, before muttering, “Damn, man. I wish I hadn’t asked.”

Nanase sighed, his face burning, but he didn’t regret a single word. Later that night, as he lay in his bunk, he twisted the bracelet around his wrist, a small smile tugging at his lips. Thinking of you gave him strength.

The U-20 match was the biggest stage Nanase had ever stepped onto. The stadium lights burned bright, illuminating the field where some of the best players in the country were battling it out. Nanase’s heart raced as he stood on the sidelines, watching the chaos unfold.

He didn’t get much playing time, and deep down, he felt a pang of disappointment. He wanted to prove himself—not just to the world but to you, the one who had always believed in him.

When the coach finally called his name, his pulse quickened. He stepped onto the field, taking his position.

The match was intense, every second a blur of movement, strategy, and noise. Nanase didn’t score a goal, but he played his heart out, assisting a crucial pass that led to one. The crowd roared, and though it wasn’t his name they were chanting, he felt a surge of pride.

When the final whistle blew, signaling Blue Lock’s victory, he stood on the field, chest heaving as the adrenaline slowly faded.

And then he saw you.

You were running onto the field, weaving through the crowd of players until you reached him. Without a second thought, you threw your arms around him, holding him tightly.

“You were amazing,” you said, your voice filled with pride.

Nanase hesitated. “I didn’t do much,” he said quietly, his eyes downcast. “I wasn’t even on the field for most of it.”

You pulled back, your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t say that. You made a difference. You played your heart out. That’s what matters.”

He smiled, a little sheepishly, but his chest felt lighter.

“Nanase.”

The sound of your dad’s voice made both of you freeze. You turned, seeing him standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

“Sir,” Nanase said quickly, stepping back from you. “I’m glad you came.”

Your dad didn’t say anything at first, just stared at the two of you. Finally, he spoke. “I’m not stupid, boy.”

Nanase swallowed hard.

“But,” your dad continued, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “you’ve made me proud today. Just don’t forget what I said—don’t hurt her.”

Nanase nodded quickly, relief flooding his face. “I won’t. I promise.”

Your dad gave a short nod before walking away, leaving the two of you standing there.

Nanase turned to you, his hand finding yours. “Did that just happen?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “I think he’s finally on your side.”

Nanase smiled, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. He might not have been the star of the match, but to you—and now, apparently, to your dad—he was more than enough.

As you walked off the field together, the stadium lights casting long shadows, Nanase tightened his grip on your hand, silently vowing to keep proving himself—not just as a player but as the person who would always be worthy of your love.

idc if he's underrated, i will write for him til the cows come home

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 1 day ago

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currently thinking about how serial killer!kaiser is strangely prideful whenever he listens to a true crime podcast about himself. about his own crime.

from a former international soccer superstar to a man who went too far in a fit of rage and ended up killing someone in an act of pure violence. kaiser knew that he could never return from this; this was too much, even for a piece of shit like him.

and yet an almost euphoric feeling electrifies his skin as he stares down at his first victim. he feels powerful. soccer could only bring him so much joy, but this. this was different. he was elated. he needed to feel this again; it was a drug. the sensation that he received after killing.

he never meant to kill the man. he never meant to kill his public relations manager. but he had been bothering kaiser so much, bothering him about being kinder to the press, bothering him about being more polite with other players, so much that kaiser beat him in a fit of rage and ended up killing him.

he barely managed to cover up, and the incident would go down in history as an act of random violence to an innocent man who just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

kaiser then didn’t kill anyone for a few months. three, to be exact. if a simple accidental kill managed to bring him so much joy, he wondered how much a true intentional murder would fuel him. his skin prickled at the thought, especially the idea that he could very well get caught in the act. the risk excited him even more.

the second victim of michael kaiser was his teammate, alexis ness.

kaiser had once been supposedly “close” with ness. at least, that’s how it was supposed to be. they were teammates in bastard münchen, of course they should’ve been close! but now that kaiser could play independently, ness was of little use to him. and yet ness still had a canine-like attachment to kaiser.

to get rid of such a one-sided connection, kaiser had stepped into ness’ hotel room with a sharp blade while they were in another country for a match. ness had frozen it place, too horrified to react. perhaps it was human instinct. perhaps it was logic. perhaps it was knowing kaiser too well. or perhaps it was pure, irrational fear. but at that moment, ness knew that he was soon to die.

alexis ness died from numerous stab wounds to the heart.

that was the moment people began to form suspicions towards kaiser. the two most important murders in recent soccer history were both two people who were supposedly close to kaiser. one was his very own personal relations manager, meanwhile the other was someone known to have worshipped kaiser. something had to be wrong here.

but kaiser still had millions of defenders. of course, when you’re good looking, anyone will defend you for anything. that’s just how it works. most of the defenders’ arguments was that some guy who hated kaiser continuously killed people close to him just to piss him off and upset him.

in reality, kaiser was far from upset. his theory was right; murdering someone on his own accord was far more satisfying that killing on accident.

another three months, another murder. this time, no one had a single piece of evidence that the murderer wasn’t kaiser. how could they, when the world’s newest #1 striker isagi yoichi was just murdered in cold blood?

now that many people thought about it, kaiser was always an asshole in press conferences and interviews. not only that, but in actual matches, he always seemed callous about his words towards ness, and he never seemed afraid to word his thoughts in possibly the most vulgar way he could with ness. and kaiser’s hatred for isagi wasn’t news; in fact, it was a common meme in soccer fandoms.

but it didn’t seem so funny anymore, now that it was genuinely plausible that kaiser really did kill their beloved striker and icon isagi yoichi.

finally, this was the murder that made kaiser famous. before he could get caught, he ran away. he ran away from fame, from soccer, from the spotlight that made him famous. he wore makeup to hide with rose and crown tattoo and his red eyeliner tattoo. he cut off the blue tips of his hair. it was almost like he was a kid again, living on the streets. the latter was true though.

the first time he hears his name mentioned on a true crime podcast, a subconscious smirk stretches across his face. he’s never felt so proud of himself, a piece of shit, in his life. finally, the world will truly know his name.

pictures of him are constantly trending all over the internet. he still has his defenders, which in his opinion, is hilarious. really just goes to show the current state of society in today’s world, doesn’t it? his pictures are shown in every video about his murders, from the rising hope of european soccer to cold-blooded and psychotic murderer.

so one day, as he’s walking on the streets as if he owns the place, you suddenly pull his hood down and you’re staring in awe. you’re an avid true crime podcast listener and watcher, and you recognized him instantly. you were never a fan of soccer, but you’ve always been interested in kaiser, especially after he became a murderer.

you know you should run. you knew that he was dangerous. but you’re intrigued.

a true crime podcast fan and their favorite murderer. really a match made in hell.

this has been consuming my thoughts and itching my brain this entire past weekend. im sick in the head.

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 1 day ago

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slursagi (isagi hehe) x reader who’s the itoshi siblings’ younger sister, and she’s been dating isagi for a couple of months now and he’s always sneaking over at their house, but one day he gets caught by rin, who then calls sae over and isagi and reader try to come up with an excuse why he’s here but rin and sae don’t believe them, so they have to spill the beans :x

genre: fluff and crack? 👻

bro.. the req i got right after this was isagi sister x rin. FATE (thank you for the request!)

but he’s ugly!

isagi yoichi x itoshi sister!reader. fluff, crack

you felt isagi’s finger twitch anxiously beneath your hand and offered him a soft smile. “you don’t have to be so nervous. no one’s gonna catch us.”

“that’s what people say right before they get caught,” isagi grumbled, slipping his hand from beneath yours to knock on your wooden bedside table. “plus, you jinxed it.”

smiling, you reached forward to take his fist between your hands and pulled him back down to you. isagi’s ears were so red that the color seeped into his cheeks. you gently stroked a thumb across the colorful skin and. “would that be the worst thing in the world?”

apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. isagi’s head dipped defeatedly into the crook of your neck as he groaned. “yeah. not only is one of your brothers my literal rival in life, self-proclaimed, by the way. cause he hates me. but your other is a legend who is expecting a lot from me. if he finds out i’m in a relationship with his little sister, there will be no more isagi yoichi.”

your smile dipped, just slightly, and you helped push isagi back into a sitting position so you could face him properly.

“fine,” you sighed. “one day, we have to tell them. i want to be with the person i love without having to sneak around. but… i guess that day doesn’t have to be today.”

again, that was the wrong thing to say, but for another reason entirely. isagi’s face split with his grin as he leaned forward to kiss you heavily on the lips. “thank you, thank you,” he breathed between kisses, fingers twining around strands of your hair.

there was a ledge outside of your screen-less bedroom window, which was how your boyfriend got in and out when it was too risky for him to use the door. you were saying goodnight, pulling him in for one last kiss, when your bedroom door swung open.

“hey, y/n, how expired can toothpaste be—“ your brother looked up from the toothpaste tube in his hand, unprepared for the sight before him.

isagi paled. rin turned red. you threw your hands up like it’d do something, and while you wanted to explain that you were in love with isagi and ask your brother not to kill him, what came out of your mouth was, “don’t tell sae!”

too late. rin’s phone was already in his hand. “sae!” he screamed into the device as you lunged for it. “i just caught our sister sucking face with isagi! yes, the soccer one!”

he paused, listening to what your eldest brother had to say before holding the phone past you and toward your boyfriend. “he wants to talk to you,” rin scowled, venom seeping into his voice.

you tried to snatch the phone away, but rin threw it high enough that you couldn’t reach. it fell into isagi’s hands, and he shakily rose the device to his ear. “hello?”

“rin, you jerk!” you charged toward your brother, who darted from the room like the devil was on his heels. hell, with the steam coming from your ears, you felt like that was a pretty accurate description of yourself. halting in the doorway, you turned to face isagi instead of chasing after rin.

he stood, awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet, eyes rounded and uncomfortable. “yes, sir,” he repeated a few times into the phone at whatever sae was telling him. after the fourth “sir,” you marched over and snatched the phone out of your boyfriend’s hand.

“stop scaring him!” you scolded.

“oh, hello, sister,” sae greeted, his eerie calmness leaving you stammering for a reply.

“i… hi? what did you tell isagi?”

sae paused, hummed, then asked, “could you bring rin back in here and put me on speaker?”

oh god, you thought immediately. they’re gonna scare my boyfriend off. you nodded against the phone before remembering your brother couldn’t see you and yelled to rin that sae wanted him. rin materialized beside you, hovering over your shoulder like some sort of gossip-eating monster.

you clicked the speaker button and subtly slipped your hand into isagi’s.

“here’s the deal,” sae announced. “y/n, you like this boy?”

“yes,” you replied without an ounce of hesitation and shot a sweet smile at your boyfriend.

sae went on. “he’s talented. got a good future ahead of him… i approve.”

rin snatched the phone out of your hand as you buried yourself into isagi’s side. “but he’s ugly!” rin cried. you punched him in the arm and let out a loud, mocking laugh when he cried rather femininely.

“i agree, she could have picked someone with stronger physical appeal, but there’s worse out there.”

“my boyfriend is adorable, shut your faces!”

ignoring you and rin (who was blabbering about rivals and betrayal), sae continued with, “however,” and you both quieted yourselves to listen. “isagi. if you break her heart, my brother and i will hurt you in ways you could not begin to fathom.”

isagi gulped beside you and gave your hand a squeeze. “i don’t plan on it, sir.”

“and stop calling me sir, it’s weird.”

“yes s—sae.”

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 1 day ago

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Guys idc ima say this and run away. I want content on the Itoshi parents. Like Rin and Sae’s parents. Like I’m not even joking. I heavily ship slay couples who r parents in anime and they js look so cute together, so yeah that’s why idk this feels like some weird ahh confession BYE

#NKSXHISX STOP #Pls don’t contact me after reading this I’m scared wtf #blue lock #Itoshi parents 😍#🫶🏽

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 2 days ago

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I AM HIS BAE #1 ❤️😭✨💖💕🤌✨💖❤️😊💯🙌🌹🏍️🤧😘💰🔥☺️🥰😍🤩❣️❤️‍🔥💋🫀😭😂💕💗

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 4 days ago

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hello (≧▽≦), can i make a small request abt sae, rin or karasu where reader has big boobs and sometimes and they somehow ended up looking at her boobs? like, they could be talking abt a something random with reader and it just happens. ( srry if my request it’s not well written or understandable, english is not my native language ╥_╥ )

“𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫”

a/n: i remember i helped babysit a preschool for community service and my boob size is like… normal ig? and this little boy pointed at my chest and said “boobies!” LIKE WHO ARE YOUR PARENTS AND WHAT ARE THEY TEACHING YOU???

and shidou would totally own that zumiez merch with their "i ❤️ boobies" design and wear it shamelessly 😭

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, karasu tabito, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei

itoshi sae

the two of you were casually walking through the grocery store, chatting about what to cook for dinner.

“i think we should do pasta,” you said. “with garlic bread. and salad. ooh, and those tiny mozzarella balls–”

you turned to look at him and found him staring. not at your face.

his eyes were so intensely focused on your chest you’d think there was a crossword puzzle written across your boobs.

“sae.”

nothing.

“sae.”

“hm?” he said, finally blinking like you pulled him out of a VR headset.

“what the hell are you looking at?”

“i thought i saw a stain on your shirt,” he muttered, expression flat like he wasn’t just mentally composing a sonnet to your cleavage.

“a stain?”

“yup.”

“what kind of stain?”

“existential.”

you stood there flabbergasted while he just pushed the cart and kept walking like nothing happened.

later, as you cooked, he came up behind you and whispered, “boobzilla strikes again.”

you smacked him with a spatula. he dodged it. barely.

itoshi rin

you were sitting on the floor with him in your living room, showing him a childhood photo album because you were bonding, okay?

“this is me in kindergarten,” you said, flipping the page. “and this is me in third grade. i was obsessed with dolphins.”

“huh,” he grunted, eyes scanning the photos… until they weren't.

his gaze dipped for half a second, just a flicker. a brief, tragic lapse in self-control. and you saw it.

“rin.”

he looked up so fast his neck cracked. “yeah?”

“you looked.”

“i didn’t.”

“you blinked directly at my boobs.”

“i blinked past them.”

“there’s no past them. they’re in front of me.”

rin turned into a brick wall. stopped speaking. went so still you could’ve mistaken him for a wax statue.

for the next ten minutes, he avoided looking below your chin like your boobs were medusa.

you turned to him and said, “they’re not going to bite you.”

“yet,” he whispered, completely serious.

karasu tabito

you were having a serious convo about rent prices and gentrification. serious.

“they turned that ramen shop into a vape store. a vape store, tabi. do you know what this means?”

“yes,” he said slowly, clearly not listening.

you leaned in, waiting for a deep, insightful comment. instead, his eyes drifted down like they were physically pulled by gravity.

“karasu.”

“y’know,” he said, blinking like he just woke up and ignoring how he used his last name instead. “i could fit a whole bowl of ramen on your boobs.”

“i was talking about capitalism.”

“and i’m talking about your assets, baby.”

you smacked him with a throw pillow.

“what?! don’t act like you didn’t bless me with the view. god gave you those like a cheat code.”

he winked and then dramatically fake-fainted onto the couch like he was dying of thirst.

every time you wear a low-cut top, he salutes you like you just did a public service.

isagi yoichi

you were watching a documentary together, fully invested in the plot. meanwhile, isagi was trying his best to be a respectful man of society.

you were explaining something on screen, leaning forward a little, and your top shifted just slightly.

and his brain just… froze. like, buffering.

you noticed immediately. “yoichi?”

“huh?”

“what did i just say?”

“uhhh... the environment?”

“we’re watching a documentary on japanese vending machines.”

“right. yep. vending machines are... bad for the climate?”

you narrowed your eyes, arms crossed (which only made things worse), and he panicked.

“i wasn’t–! it was–! i didn’t mean to!!”

now he’s waving his hands like he’s trying to swat guilt away.

“my eyes were just following the light source!”

“what light source?”

“you. you’re the light of my life.”

man really tried to romance his way out of being caught.

it worked. barely.

kaiser michael

you were arguing about something stupid, like which fast food fries were superior.

“waffle fries are elite,” you insisted.

“they’re pretentious,” he said. “pick a shape and commit.”

and somewhere in the middle of your passionate defense of curly fries, his eyes trailed southward like his pupils had minds of their own.

he didn’t even try to hide it.

“stop looking at my boobs.”

“i’m not,” he said, not even blinking.

“you are.”

“i’m admiring the passion in your voice,” he smirked. “it just happens to echo really well off your chest.”

“kaiser.”

“what? you’re giving boob TED talk energy right now. it’s inspiring.”

you hit him with a fry. he caught it in his mouth and winked.

“your arguments are strong,” he said. “but your boobs? stronger.”

he would definitely make up fake awards like “best visual presentation” and hand them to you while bowing dramatically.

shidou ryusei

you were showing him how to make pancakes. flour on your cheek, spatula in hand, adorable domestic energy.

he was pretending to help, mostly eating the batter and poking your sides.

“you’re not even paying attention,” you sighed.

“i am,” he said, leaning against the counter and watching you flip a pancake.

but then you leaned to grab a plate and… yeah. his brain went full caveman.

“BOOBS,” he said out loud. just. said it.

“excuse me?”

“uh– BOOP. i said boop.”

“you said boobs.”

“boop-boobs. it’s a pancake term. very official.”

you gave him a death glare.

he grinned, grabbed a strawberry, and placed it gently on your cleavage like it was a shrine.

“for the gods,” he whispered.

you whacked him with the spatula.

he licked the strawberry off.

he lives with zero shame and zero fear of death.

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 4 days ago

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𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 #𝟑 ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

hurt/comfort, kaiser sucks but he's trying his best (my boy ( ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )づ♡ ), reader has a tough time, slight angst with fluff

thinking about how michael kaiser would comfort you after seeing you cry for the first time!! ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა

you genuinely don't know how it started, but somehow kaiser became your boyfriend, and you couldn't be happier about it, really. for all his bravado and ego, he did care about you in his own way. he made sure you had everything you could ever want and constantly messaged you, vying to be the center of your attention.

that being said, the two of you were still relatively early on in your relationship, and there were sides he hadn't fully seen yet . . . such as you crying.

the day started out rough, but as time went on, it only worsened. by the time you got home, you were so drained. you toe off your shoes and put them on the rack, before slumping back against the door. you slide down to the floor, before hugging your knees to your chest. you rest your head on your knees and sigh, finally having a chance to relax.

you stay like that for who knows how long, at one point falling asleep entirely. you wake up with a pain in your neck to your phone buzzing. its vibrations carry it across the floor away from you, and your heart stops when you see that it's kaiser.

you jump for it, scooping it up in your arm and hitting the green accept button.

"hello?"

"y/n! where the hell are you?! you were supposed to be here an half an hour ago!"

"f-for what?" you ask, your voice tiny.

"for what- seriously. this girl," he grumbles. "our date! did you seriously forget?"

"o-oh, right. I'm so sorry michael, i-i'll get ready now and head straight over-"

"don't bother, the mood's gone. if you didn't care enough to come on time, well then i don't care either. do what you want," and with that harsh statement, he hangs up.

you stare off into space, feeling your heart grow heavier in your chest. you look over at your phone to see the two other missed calls from kaiser and the messages asking where you were and if you were okay.

you can't help the tears from burning in your eyes, before they finally fall, racing down your face. it's not that you meant to forget, but you'd just been so tired and you were already so upset. now you've upset your boyfriend too.

you type out a i'm sorry and send it to him, before setting your phone on the kitchen island and walking to your bedroom. you collapse onto your bed cry yourself to sleep, not bothering to properly eat anything or change out of your clothes into something more comfortable.

when you wake, someone's shaking your shoulder. you glance over your shoulder and in your hazy state, can't tell if you're dreaming your boyfriend or not. kaiser is sitting on your bed, his eyes peering down at you with an expression you can't read.

you squeeze your eyes shut and turn back the other way, curling more into yourself. however, kaiser's hand on your shoulder tightens and he spins you onto your back. he leans over you, a hand on either side of your face. his eyebrows pinch together as he glances over your face. you must look horrible right now, and it's just making you feel worse.

"i'm sorry," you squeeze out. "i'm really sorry i forgot about our date. i'll make it up, i promise."

"shut up. have you been crying?" he asks, his voice tight. when you meet his cerulean eyes, your's sting again. your bottom lip trembles and kaiser's breath hitches. "why are you crying?"

"misha . . . " you sob. your arms go up and wrap around his neck, pulling him down to you. your tears wet the crook of his neck. "i had such a bad day. by the time i got home i just kinda collapsed on the floor and fell asleep. i didn't-"

kaiser shushes you. he turns onto his side and cradles your head in his hand, brushing your hand over his hair.

your stomach growls and he asks, "have you eaten anything?" when you shake your head, he sighs and pulls back. he wipes your tears and sighs. "i'll . . . i'll get you food. it'll only get worse on an empty stomach."

"but-"

he cups his hand over your mouth and presses his forehead against yours. "shut up. just . . . you had a hard time. it's fine. forget about the date. i'm over it."

his voice becomes strained as he stares into your teary eyes. he shakes his head before practically forcing out, "just don't cry, i . . . i can't stand it."

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 4 days ago

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OMGG TYSM FOR THE TAG NEN MWAHH LOVE UU missed doing these teheheheh😈🙏🏽

i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child

TYSM FIR TAGGING ME IN THIS KNCE AGAIN LLOVE U

@anastasialiarf

tag game 🤭

rules: color the sentence that's true about you

this is a whole lot of yellow lmfao

no pressure tags: @marthawrites @schniiipsel @aemonddtargaryen @aemondsbabe @adragonprinceswhore @arcielee @black-dread @lovelykhaleesiii @aemondsbabygirl @valeskafics @connorsui

#🫶🏽

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 4 days ago

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hiii it's been so long!! i haven't been very active bc just finished exams last week, anyways how r u !!

btw, ur sae death theory threw me in for a loop 😭

HIHIHIHIH OMGGG IK IM SORRY at least someone noticed yay I HAVENT BEEN VERY ACTIVE AS WELL CUZ BOOMSHAKALAKA IM IN THE MIDDLE OF MY EXAMS TOO this is my fourth one I think

Anyways I’m fine and I hope ur doing good, slay gorgeous and mwahh. Well lowk sorry for making u guys panic TEHHEHE oops and erm ya. I first heard of it on insta and realized that wow it lowk made sense, did some research and I kinda stuck to that but it was js a theory and it’s not like anything was happening but then one of my beautiful mooties @nensi has posted abt it in her acc so u guys should go check it out🔥🔥🔥🔥. She explained to me how it would not make sense and that this theory is invalid so yeah therefore Sae will not be dying yayyyayayay

SORRY FOR THE PANIC ONCE AGAIN GUYS🔥🔥🔥😜

wow it’s been a long time since I’ve written on here maybe u guys should stay tuned for a Shidou x reader shshnsnsnsmsm. Anyways ya so that’s it byeee.

I HOPE UR DOING GOOD BABAGIRL STAY SLAY, HYDRATE, SLEEP AND EAT AND BE URSELF MWAHHH

#blue lock #Itoshi Sae #Sae death theory #🤨🤨🤨🤨#Feels good to be on here tehe #🫶🏽

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 8 days ago

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no ball in sight only murder pt.2

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p1z-d0n7jud6em3 · 9 days ago

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just me, you, and your brother — his reaction to your (very) overprotective brother

౨ৎ ft. nagi, rin, sae

contents. fluff, kinda crack LMAOOO, newly established relationships, reader’s bro is so justified for sae’s part ngl >.>

a/n. meant to be a reply to this request (but tumblr is being mean) ; hiii nonnie ^-^ i’m so glad you like my writing hehe tysm for requesting!! writing this made me laugh it def gave me shoujo anime vibes hfjfhjdfh i hope you enjoy!! :3

NAGI SEISHIRO

Nagi isn’t someone who is quick to judge. He’s aware he has strange tendencies himself.

Most people think he’s a weird hermit, though he could care less about their opinions. It’s too bothersome to care.

But still, even for him, this date is super weird.

Not because of you. Actually, you’re the only reason he didn’t just leave the cafe and head home for the night. But there is something in his periphery that has been bothering him.

“Don’t freak out, but I think someone’s stalking us.”

Naturally, you freak out a little.

“Huh?!” you cry, eyes widening in worry. “Where? For how long?”

Nagi briefly glances at the man wearing a large trench coat and fake mustache sitting a few tables away. He noticed that the strange man would stare intently at him, going so far as to snap pictures as he glared in Nagi’s direction.

“Don’t look back—” your head whips around to look behind you “—but he’s that trench coat guy over there with the giant camera.”

“He has a camera?!”

Nagi nods wordlessly.

“That’s weird,” you say with a disgusted curl of your lip. “What if I go up there and tell him to stop?”

“You want to confront him?” he asks in surprise. He’s definitely not one to be confrontational himself.

“Yeah! I won’t let some creep ruin our date!” Standing up haughtily, you stomp over to his table. As you grow closer, your steps falter. You look back at Nagi apologetically and he hears you murmur a small, “Wait, what the fuck?”

Curious, Nagi sighs and makes his way over. As he approaches the table, the stranger rips off his mustache, glaring daggers into Nagi’s soul.

“I’m so sorry, Seishiro,” you blurt, grabbing onto Nagi’s sweater and attempting to hide his large frame behind you. “This creep is my brother. He’s trying to spy on our date!” You turn back to the stranger—your brother, apparently—and shake your head at him. “You! What do you think you’re doing? Go home! I’m telling Mom you’re being weird and that she needs to take away your camera again!”

Again? Nagi wonders to himself.

“I’m just worried about you,” he retorts, still glaring at Nagi. “I heard from the grapevine you were going on a date with the school’s weirdo hermit and had to make sure he wasn’t a creep!”

“By being a bigger creep yourself?” you hiss. “And Nagi isn’t weird! He’s kind and talented and so what if he likes playing games and being home? It’s fun!”

Suddenly, you hold Nagi’s hand and tug him back to your table. Though the situation is quite troublesome, he still finds himself pleased by the contact. That’s the first time you held his hand…

“Come on, Nagi,” you say to him, expression softening. “Let’s take our food to go and head somewhere private.” You tear your gaze away from his to glare menacingly back at your brother. “I’m so sorry my brother ruined our date.”

Nagi shrugs, looking down at your face that is contorted with worry. “It’s not ruined. Our date isn't over yet, right? We can still have fun.”

You smile at him gratefully and nod.

Leaning in beside your ear, Nagi whispers, “Next date, we can go to my place so your brother can’t get in.”

Bashfully, you look down at your shoes but a grin escapes you. “So there’s a second date?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” you promise. “I love that idea. Now let’s get out of here.”

“Bring her home by eight!”

You both hear your brother call after you as you exit the cafe with Nagi, hand-in-hand, but you choose to ignore him anyway.

ITOSHI RIN

Rin hasn’t been over to your house before.

In fact, he hasn’t been to many people’s houses before.

But he knows this isn’t normal.

“Can you pass the popcorn?” your brother asks, plopping himself onto the couch right in-between Rin and you.

The two of you were watching a movie at your house (a romantic comedy since you claimed Rin needs to “broaden his horizons” and not watch horror all the time), but it wasn’t the relaxing movie night either of you expected.

At least, not with your brother around.

“Hey, did you guys order food yet?”

Rin blinks before he responds to the nuisance sitting beside him. “Yes. Pizza’s on its way.”

“Perfect! I can have a slice then?”

“No,” you reply quickly, glaring at your brother. “That’s mine and Rin’s pizza. And that’s also our popcorn!” Folding your arms, you stare him down. “We’re trying to watch something. Please leave us alone.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, but begrudgingly stands up. “Fine.” Your brother turns to Rin with a warning glint in his eyes. “But you better not try anything.”

Rin frowns. You guys are watching a movie on the couch in your parent’s living room. What could he even try?

“Okay,” is Rin’s short reply.

Your brother narrows his eyes. “I don’t like your tone, kid.”

“You’re only like two years older!” you interject with a sigh, standing up to push your brother out of the living room and towards the hallway. “Stop scaring him. He’s one of the good ones. I promise.”

Rin blushes as he hears your words. One of the good ones, huh?

Eventually, your brother relents and his gaze softens as he pats your head. “Alright, I’ll trust your judgment,” he promises, hands up in surrender before turning to Rin. “You better not let them down.”

Rin nods once. “I won’t.”

A look of mutual understanding passes between him and your brother and Rin finally feels himself relax once you bounce back to his side, leaning your head against his shoulder on the couch.

“Now that he’s been dealt with… Netflix and chill time?” you ask teasingly.

With wide eyes, Rin feels the heat rush to his cheeks, looking around the room frantically waiting for your brother to pop up and murder him.

You giggle at his panic, snuggling into his side even closer. “I’m just kidding, Rinnie. Don’t worry, my brother didn’t hear.”

His shoulders relax as he drapes his arms around you, finally settling in to watch the movie. After a few moments, Rin off-handedly says, “Maybe another time at my place. No one’s home there.”

Now it was your turn to look away, embarrassed.

Rin smiles to himself. Cute.

ITOSHI SAE

You knew going into your relationship that Sae led a pretty busy life. But he always managed to make time for you.

Well, most times, at least.

Sometimes, like today, something urgent would come up and he would have to cancel plans last minute. Even if that plan was a date with you.

“What are you still doing here?” your brother asks, eyeing you warily as you stand in the front door in your fancy dress.

You shake your head, shrugging it off despite the disappointment in your chest. “Nothing. I’m just going back in to get changed.”

“Changed? You’re already dressed.”

“I mean changed back into pajamas,” you explain with a frown. “Sae can’t make it anymore.”

Suddenly, the expression on your brother’s face changes from one of worry to one of murderous intent. “What do you mean he can’t make it?”

You sigh. “As in, he cancelled on me a few minutes ago. Something about an impromptu soccer practice match.”

“So he stood you up.”

“Well, no. Technically, he let me know… Just, you know, twenty minutes before he was supposed to get here.”

“Who the fuck does that bastard think he is?!” your brother barks, his expression deadly. “Does he want to die?”

Your eyes widen. “Whoa, thanks for the support, but you don’t need to go that far.”

“Fine. I won’t murder him,” he concedes too easily, pulling his phone out.

“What are you planning, then?” you ask warily, trying to peek at his screen.

He shrugs without responding, furiously typing away at his phone. Over his shoulder, you see him on Twitter, writing a post that says:

@ItoshiSae: WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE BOYFRIEND LEAVES THEIR PARTNER WAITING FOR HIM IN THE COLD WHEN THEY’RE ALREADY DRESSED UP AND READY? only dickheads stand their partners up. your fans would be ashamed.

He refreshes the page and right before your eyes, you see the Tweet blow up, some people siding with your brother and others defending Sae.

Whatever the case, it’s definitely not something Sae’s PR team will like.

The next thing you know, your phone rings with a call from Sae.

“Hi,” you answer sheepishly.

“My manager is yelling at me,” he says simply. “Something about your brother slandering me on social media?”

Overhearing the conversation, your brother butts in, “It’s not slander if it’s true, asshole!”

You hear Sae sigh but he doesn’t say anything to defend himself. “You didn’t tell me you were all dressed up and waiting for me,” he says instead.

“Would it have made a difference? You already said you had to cancel.”

There’s a brief pause and you can hear the frown in his voice when he continues. “I would’ve made the time to come over if I knew you were ready and waiting. I’m sorry.”

You shrug, knowing he can’t see you.

“I can leave this practice match early,” he offers. “Push the reservation back and be there in thirty minutes to pick you up.”

“I don’t know,” you say hesitantly. “I don’t want to interfere with your soccer training. I know how important it is to you…”

“But you’re also important to me.” There are some shuffling noises in the background. “I’ll be there soon.”

Feeling a presence behind you, you look up at your brother who takes your phone into his hands. “Yeah, you better be here as fast as you can, idiot. And if you ever pull some shit like this again, I’ll murder you next time. Y/N can do better than a narcissistic soccer player who is willing to stand them up.”

From the phone, you hear a quiet, “I know.”

“Good,” says your brother before handing the phone back to you.

“Sae, I’m so sorry about him! He’s a little much sometimes—”

“I deserve it,” interjects Sae with a small sigh. “He’s right. I’ll be there, Y/N. I promise.”

You smile softly, silently thanking your brother for being the slightest bit crazy and over the top. “I’ll see you soon, Sae.”

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