#10 years and they still don’t get along along for more than 10 seconds 🙄

[misty-moth]

I’m bored, so please look at my cats ₍^. ̫ .^₎ ₍^. ̫ .^₎

Left: Captain Jax Parrow

Nicknames: Monkey, MonkChunk, HughMonkus, BigOl’Boy, MonkerMoo, Bunk

Right: Daedric Princess Azura

Nicknames: CookieBean, Reekicheeki, Reekicheekitabby, Sweetpea, Kittykittymewmew, BabyBeanCutestThingI’veSeen

Bonus: silly pics~

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ it's a match! | itadori yuuji

wc: 1.8k

summary: the guy you match with on a dating app is too good to be true. 

contains: gn!reader, non-curse au, athletic trainer yuuji, dating apps, megumi and nobara cameos

a/n: this is such a projection of my insane attraction for yuuji + a few songs i associate with this fic and him: mariposa - peach tree rascals, sunshine - kyle, miguel, sunkissed - khai dreams

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: finally saying yes to that nice guy you’re afraid is too good to be true

Itadori Yuuji. Athletic Trainer. 24. Loves dogs, exploring nature, cheat day meals, and a good workout!

Pink hair, wide eyes, bright smile—the kind that can’t possibly be rehearsed; the photo on your screen is candid, edges blurred by movement but the center clearly in focus. 

He’s cute, you think. Enough for you to scroll further down to get to know more about him. 

The second photo you land on is definitely something; your eyes widen and you swear you hear yourself gulp a little. On your screen, crouched low, is this same Itadori Yuuji smiling in between a golden retriever and a husky; he has an arm wrapped around each dog, bringing them close as their tongues stick out in the summer heat. 

And you’re pretty sure it’s summer because this Itadori Yuuji guy also happens to be shirtless, towel slung around his neck as strands of pink hair cling to the sweat on his forehead. That, and the trees behind him glisten underneath the sunlight—vibrant green. 

Considering the bigger picture, the photo is adorable. Cool. Absolutely heartwarming even.

But your brain is still trying to process how someone who looks like he volunteers at retirement homes can be so… ripped. 

You scroll some more. 

And after two question prompts, one muscle tee gym photo (which is way more attractive than shirtless, by the way), and one group photo–a girl with short hair and a pretty boy with unruly black hair–, you’ve concluded that this Itadori Yuuji guy is a picture-perfect example of a kind of boy-next-door. 

You say kind of because you learn that his ‘typical sunday’ is waking up at dawn to take his and his bestfriend’s dogs out for a hike. You also say kind of because the most surprising fact about him is that he’s been a stunt double because he knows how to do parkour.

It feels like an illusion, as if someone so down-to-earth and seemingly friendly, living just eight kilometres away from you is being dangled right under your nose. 

He’s way too good to be true.

So when you press ‘like’ to his answer for the prompt ‘typical sunday’ and comment, “Cool! Are these the same dogs as the one in your photo?”, you definitely do not expect to be matched a few minutes later. 

.

To your surprise, you and Yuuji get along swimmingly. 

There’s a reason dating apps are not messaging apps, and you both find out when your chat page begins to lag after a series of 100+ messages in the span of 10 minutes. 

So, you swap numbers. 

And it’s good—way too good. 

It’s unbelievable how easy it is to talk to him, how fun. There’s never an awkward lull and he always replies enthusiastically, never too late and never too early. If others are walls, Yuuji is a trampoline—bouncing off your energy and returning what you throw at him.

You learn that not only is he a kind of boy-next-door, but a golden retriever boy too. And you don’t really know what to do or how to feel about that realization. 

5:47 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji

> [attachment] 

> cheat meal today!! 

The attachment opens to a photo of him using french fries as a moustache, along with a giant burger set on a plate in front of him. Despite the very obvious distraction of his biceps flexing while his arms cross in front of his chest, you chuckle and roll your eyes.

It’s an inside joke—kind of. You mentioned once that you only found out when you were 13 that french fries did not in fact come from the French. 

5:48 p.m. 

< ha ha ha 🙄

You straighten up in your chair, stretching your back until you hear it crack.

< late lunch or early dinner? 

5:49 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> late lunch!

> had the whole team in a while ago then got a workout in right after!

5:50 p.m. 

< good reward? 

5:50 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> good enough

> would be better with some company though!

Herein lies the problem. 

You stare at your screen, biting your bottom lip as you watch the little bubble move as he types. 

5:51 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> only if you aren’t busy or anything!!

This is the second time Yuuji has tried to ask you out in the month and a half of you both talking; the first time was just completely wrong timing, but this one—you have nowhere else to be and you actually can go to him.

5:54 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> no pressure!! 

And yet—

Your fingers move faster than you can think. 

5:55 p.m. 

< still caught up at work, sorry 😞

< next time!! 

You can’t even explain why you feel so hesitant to meet him. 

5:56 p.m.

< eat enough for the both of us for now 😌

—you groan, dropping your forehead down on your desk. 

To be honest, you aren’t sure what to call the fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Is it butterflies? Nerves kicking in? Fear? 

5:57 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> that’s okay!! i ordered a milkshake too

> i’ll drink it in your spirit 🫡

It’s confusing, because he’d confessed that he’s never done dating apps before, isn’t so sure how it goes; that his friend was solely responsible for the creation of his account because why not? 

He’d admitted that he wasn’t too keen on it because he wasn’t really looking, but he’s glad he agreed because otherwise, he wouldn’t have met you. 

And you think, for someone who ‘isn’t so sure how it goes’, he’s actually pretty smooth. 

So, maybe you have trust issues.

And maybe, he’s just so sweet—about this, about everything, that you can’t figure out if he’s just really nice or if he’s flirting. 

.

.

.

“Kugisaki, I think I’m being rejected.” 

“Huh?” Nobara looks up midbite, face scrunching into confusion. Megumi raises his eyebrow from the side. 

“Yeah,” Yuuji shrugs, pouting as he swirls his chopsticks around, “maybe they don’t like me that way. Why else would they be avoiding a meet-up?” 

Nobara clears her throat, setting her chopsticks down as she straightens her back against the booth. Her fingers clasp together on the desk. 

“Itadori.” 

Yuuji looks up as Nobara shoots him a look. 

“No.” 

Megumi slurps on his soup.

“Phone.” Nobara reaches an arm out, palm up as she waits. 

Once she grabs a hold of the device, she taps on his text thread with you, scrolling up and up and up as if to prove a point. For even more evidence, she goes to your socials, reading the exchange of compliments you both have left on each other’s Instagram stories. 

“Maybe they just see me as a friend, you know?” 

“Itadori, I did not curate your profile for someone to tap on it because they ‘see you as a friend’.” 

The table is quiet—even Megumi’s stopped eating, cheek resting on his palm.

“You cannot tell me that someone tapped on your profile after seeing that bait photo of you with your dog and Fushiguro’s dog because they wanted to ‘just be friends’.” 

Yuuji has nothing else to say, eyes wide and mouth completely shut as Nobara goes on to explain (air quotes and all) how his profile is the quintessential design of a boy-next-door who anyone is bound to fall for. 

Only when she’s done, having exposed every single detail about your relationship (friendship?) that Yuuji never even knew she knew, does Megumi speak. 

“I wouldn’t be talking to someone everyday for three months straight if I didn’t like them that way.” 

.

.

.

You’re horrible. 

Yuuji should honestly just stop talking to you at this point. 

You’ve declined a meet-up three times for god’s sake. 

Each time, he’s been so nice about it too, telling you that it’s okay, you don’t need to worry about it. That he’ll definitely treat you to a big meal when you finally do meet—to make up for all the wrong timings. 

He’s not the problem, it’s you. 

Yuuji hasn’t replied to your text since yesterday, and you honestly wouldn’t blame him if he completely stopped because, why bother if his advances have been blocked every single time anyway? 

You’d get it, would completely understand if he ghosted you now. 

But… there’s no denying the way your stomach drops when you think about it. 

You’ve clicked open your phone five times in the past 10 minutes, and every time it vibrates, you rush to check it, hoping it’s him. 

This is the last time, you swear to yourself—the sign. 

If he asks you again one more time, you’ll finally do it. No more excuses, no more chickening out at the last minute. 

(You pray to whatever god is out there that he does.

And just as you’re about to go to bed, a notification pops up)

.

12:03 a.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> hey! slr!! someone on the team got injured so we had to rush him in

> it was a whole thing

> but i hope your back’s doing better! are the stretches i sent helping?

12:05 a.m. 

Itadori Yuuji

> also no pressure at all but there’s a game this saturday in our area

> was wondering if you’d like to drop by? 

> no worries if you’re busy though! 

> just let me know so i can get a pass for you 🫡

.

.

.

The cafe you agreed to meet at is busier than you expected, ceramics clinking and the coffee machines working double time as an influx of customers line up by the cashier. 

You’re thankful for the noise, the endless chatter around you drowning out each rapid pulse of your heart beat. 

Do you bow? Shake his hand? Wave?  

You’re so nervous, you might not even get a word in at all. 

It should be any minute now, based on his texts. 

You do your best to distract yourself, looking around the cafe and fiddling with the straps of your bag.

But the doors swing open, and you turn to see who’s come in—

It’s him. Itadori Yuuji in the flesh. 

The guy you’ve spent the past few months talking to, laughing at his jokes and sharing pieces of your day-to-day with. 

As he looks around for you, you take a few minutes to soak in this moment. Still too good to be true: black polo shirt hugging the expanse of his chest, his pink hair styled boyishly; there’s a natural brightness to him that draws you in, almost like his personality shines outward, charming you the more you look at him. 

—and when your gazes meet, he smiles, eyes crinkling, lighting up at the sight of you as he raises his hand and finally, waves. 

.

You don’t know what took you so long to finally say yes, but thank god you did. 

Because aside from all the qualities that make him a kind of boy-next-door and a golden retriever boy all packed in one, you’re becoming well aware that Itadori Yuuji’s biggest asset is the way his ass looks tight, hugged snuggly by his pants as you watch from the stands.

a/n: coming up with this idea was so much fun that there's a bunch of lore i wasn't able to include! like: 1) megumi hates yuuji's music and definitely told him to never mention it out of fear that he’ll be rejected even more, 2) yuuji has received messages asking 'who's your friend?' 'is he single?' on the group photo with nobara and megumi, 3) he definitely stunt doubled for sukuna

thank you notes: to @augustinewrites for literally feeding me inspiration for this entire plot omfg this is lowkey her brainchild too & for helping me with dating app research along with @ufo-ikawa 🥺 ily both + @mysugu @soumies for of course listening to me ramble abt this, as you both do with everything else i talk about 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[mixchronicles-futureboyfriend]

Dear Future Boyfriend – Are You in My Dating Range?

There is an age range that every person has that is acceptable for them to date in.  It’s an unspoken rule, but everyone sort of knows the boundaries. When you’re in elementary school, you’re a baby to the middle schoolers. When you’re in middle school you’re a child to the high schoolers. And when you’re in high school you’re jail bait to the adults… unless you’re R Kelly. And in that case, he’s asking you to stop by after trigonometry with the young girl you baby sit on the weekdays. He has an extra happy meal for you both, orange Hi-C, light ice, to not water it down, just the way you like it…  Oh, too soon???  Stop it, he pissed on someone like twelve years ago. A 12-year-old. It’s time to stop stepping in the name of love guys. Pick another family reunion song already.  Anyhow, when you’re a man I understand the dating range is scrutinized. You never want to be the dirty old man hitting on young girls at the bar. But surprisingly they do exist mainly because most dirty old men are highly unaware. You’d think when they are getting dressed in their matching Nike track suit or age inappropriate cut out jeans with the coordinating football jersey, some bell would ring. – Hey, you’re old dude. No one under the age 35 dresses like that.  But no, these guys confidently make their way to every 20/30-something bar, club, party (who is inviting them btw) so they can find some unsuspected soul, usually a young lady who has managed to wander away from her friends to go to her bathroom, or because she spoke to someone she knew a fraction of a second too long and now she’s isolated, fair game to be harassed for the remainder of the night.  

Future Boyfriend, good for you I’m not a dirty old man, but what if I’m a dirty old woman, Eartha Kitt style in Boomerang – Maaaarcus darling….  Okay, that’s extreme, but I am a lady who has no idea what my dating range is. Somewhere along the line while celebrating my 26thbirthday – repeatedly, I got older. Not quite sure when, but apparently, I aged… no I matured. Aging means I look old, unless I’m wine, but I’m not and I don’t, so consider yourself lucky. But I am more mature. Things I once thought was tolerable, I have zero patience for. Like living for today. You’re not Drake, #YOLO is over, so what’s your game plan. I’m not interested in living check to check in a one-bedroom apartment with your Jordan collection🙄. Grow up.  Also, get a grip of your emotions. You like me or you don’t. I’m not interested in little mind games. Three days with zero communication, and it’s like baseball – You’re Out!  Between the two above infractions and a few others: 1 – You still call your mom, “mommy”.  2 – You think Taco Bell is an acceptable first date.  3 – You’re on a shared Netflix account with 10 other people, so we’re never able to watch a movie. And 4 – You think a $10 glass of wine is steep. Generation Z isn’t for me.  These guys are still trying to find themselves. And even if they are cute, fun and filled with the promise of amazing sex, I have to say “no”. We’re not on the same page and you’ll probably mess up my credit anyhow. So Future Boyfriend, maybe you’re an older man. They do say women mature faster than men so perhaps I need to stop looking and the youngins and start talking to their pops. In theory it sounds great.  Older guys are established in their career so that’s one step closer to retirement, pension and social security.  Oh and a golf cart. I always wanted one of those things to ride around my suburban community doing a royalty wave. I don’t know if I pictured you alongside me, but I guess I could use a driver. Score!  Also, most older guys are one or two times divorced. That’s perfect, he ironed out all of the kinks on his practice wives. But the down side is when we go out, people will ask me, “How long is your father in town visiting.” – Tragic!  Not to mention, every time you nod off during a conversation I’m going to think you’ve died. And that kind of inconsistency just isn’t fair…. For my golf cart dream.  So Future Boyfriend I believe you’re sitting right in the sweet spot: Somewhere between 35 and 45… no a 45-year-old goes to bed at 8:30 - pass.  Okay, maybe it’s between 25 and 35… no a 25-year-old is too close to my nephew’s age. I can’t date his friends, they’re going to call me Auntie Cougar.   What about between 30 and 40… hold up, a 30-year-old is practically a 20-year-old. I’m going to have to help him build a vision board to figure out his dreams.  Too much!  Looks like we have a dilemma Future Boyfriend. I don’t know my dating range, but I do know for you to hang with me you need the energy of a 20-year-old without the stupidity, the forward thinking of a 30-year-old without the baggage, and the practicality of a 40-year-old without the narcolepsy.   So, how about you just dress age appropriately and we’ll figure out the rest. Because the best thing about me is I’m ageless… so I blend in with everyone.

Xo,

Mix