What The Fuck Was That Chapter Bllk, I Just Got Done Crying Over No Home, Are You Shitting Me.

(y/n): "Levi and I-"

Erwin: "Are dating?"

Miche: "Are married?

Hange: "Are fucking?"

Levi: "Finished our patrol. What the fuck is wrong with you people?"

New Attack on Titan Artwork

જ⁀♡⊹｡° stranger, that's all i see

( sae itoshi x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — the 7th ( and last ) part to my seven petals, all poison series! ( masterlist )

♡ word count — 1.8k

♡ content — sae itoshi x fem! reader , sae and reader are 30-31 ish , established relationship ( married ), divorce hinted at ( and said toward the end ), one sided relationship, sae falling out of love with reader, harsh sae, tbh idk what else to add :), not proofread!

♡ synopsis — Ten years ago, you fell in love with a rising star in Spain. A whirlwind romance, a quiet wedding, a promise of forever. But forever is starting to feel like a one-sided vow. Sae Itoshi still wears his ring—but the space beside you in bed stays cold. And love, as it turns out, doesn’t survive on silence.

── .✦ when i look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn't meant to be

You used to think silence was romantic.

In the beginning, there was something beautiful about sitting next to him in a café with nothing to say, yet feeling everything. Fingers lightly brushing over ceramic coffee mugs, eyes meeting across the table, your knee barely grazing his under the small table. 

You always thought he was a storm kept still just for you. Even his quiet held weight, meaning.

But now?

Silence is a weight you carry alone.

You stare at the seat across from you—his seat. Your fork scrapes across porcelain as you push asparagus and roasted chicken around your plate, untouched. 

Another dinner alone. 

Another meal you plated with too much hope. 

You still try, out of habit. 

You’ve been trying for ten years.

Your eyes flick to the digital clock on the oven.

9:47 PM.

You used to wait.

Now, you just clean up.

You met him in Madrid, fresh out of university, wide-eyed and brilliant with a pen. 

You were a translator at first, then a sideline reporter, and then a full-on broadcaster with glowing reviews. Your Spanish lilted and playful, your insight sharp. 

You caught his eye with the way you didn’t flinch at his silence. How you challenged him, even when others backed away.

Sae Itoshi was the prodigy.

You were just...you.

He said he liked your honesty. You liked his contradictions. He was all ice, but when he touched you, he burned.

You dated for a year. Engaged the next. Married the one after that. It was fast, but it made sense. You were both dreamers in your own ways. He had a career that stole him from the world. You had a world you were willing to shrink, just to stay in his orbit.

At twenty-four, you thought love was enough.

You’ve grown into a different version of yourself—your thirties are here. Your friends are planning holidays with their kids, attending parent-teacher nights, adopting dogs they name after old musicians.

You show up to everything alone.

“Oh, where’s Sae?”

You used to smile and say, “Training.”

Now, you sip your drink and shrug. “You know him.”

Because you do know him. Or at least, you did.

But that version of him—the boy who kissed you in your rain-wet hallway after a win, the man who promised you Venice and three kids and a house with a garden—is gone. 

Or maybe he never existed outside the breathless version of him you imagined in your twenties.

When the season ends, he’s home more. Kind of. You wake up to the sound of him showering. You hear him shuffle around the kitchen, pouring cereal, never coffee. He leaves the bowls in the sink.

He doesn’t ask how you are. He doesn’t notice the way your hand lingers on the fridge, or how your eyes are always just a little too glassy.

It’s not cruel. It’s just...empty. And that hurts more.

The house is quiet—too quiet for something so big. The kind of silence that fills your chest like smoke and refuses to leave.

You stand in the living room with your arms crossed, staring up at the one thing in this house that still feels alive.

A portrait.

Large and centered above the fireplace, preserved like a shrine: your wedding photo.

You don’t even know how long you’ve been standing there, just looking at it. But time doesn’t matter. Not in this house. Not anymore.

You, in that dress you spent weeks hunting for—a soft ivory with a dramatic, low back and a train that shimmered every time you moved. You remember how the lace felt under your fingertips. How your cheeks hurt from smiling too much. How your mother cried when she buttoned you in.

And Sae—

Sae looked at you like you were the only real thing in the world. His hand was at your waist, his mouth pressed against your temple, and the corner of his lips lifted just slightly in a way no one else ever saw.

You remember everything. The flowers you picked out together. The laughter that rang through the courtyard when your uncle accidentally tripped on the runner. The music—God, the music—you two danced to that soft jazz track he liked. He didn’t even want a first dance until he saw how badly you did.

Your fingers tremble as they drift to the ring on your hand.

You twist it, slowly.

You remember the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles when he slid it on. “You sure about this?” he asked, and you’d smiled, breathless. “Always.”

That girl is a ghost now. Her voice lives only in your memories.

You feel your throat tighten.

Then— A voice, sharp and cold, cuts through the haze:

“What are you staring at?”

You jump, heart in your throat.

Sae stands at the doorway, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He’s home earlier than usual. His hair still wet from a shower, his jersey only half-tucked into black sweats. 

He looks tired. He always does now. 

And the worst part is—he doesn’t even try to look at you.

You swallow the lump forming. “Oh. Just our… our picture.”

You smile, soft and nostalgic, still twisting the ring like a habit you can’t break.

“Oh.”

He looks up at it.

His expression doesn’t change. Blank. Like the photo means nothing.

“We need to take that down.”

He says it like he’s mentioning the weather. Like he’s telling you the laundry’s done. Then he walks off into the kitchen, door swinging behind him.

That’s it. The first conversation you’ve had in weeks.

Just seven words. And not one of them about you.

You stay there for a while longer, staring at the photo. At the girl who thought promises meant permanence. At the man who once looked at her like she hung the moon.

You fight for the first time in weeks one morning, over something stupid.

“You said we’d go visit my parents,” you remind him. “They’ve been asking.”

“I have meetings,” he replies, not even looking up from his phone. “You can go.”

“I don’t want to go alone, Sae.”

He finally looks up, brow slightly knit. “Why not?”

You nearly laugh. It’s not funny, but it is—it’s hilarious how little he sees you these days.

“Do you ever want to do anything with me?” Your voice wobbles.

“What kind of question is that?”

You blink. “An honest one.”

He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’re being dramatic.”

There it is.

The sentence that breaks you. Not because it’s harsh. But because it’s indifferent.

You leave the room before he sees your tears.

You have the conversation one night in bed. 

You can’t sleep, and his breathing is slow beside you, too far on the edge of the mattress.

“You know I wanted a family,” you whisper into the dark.

He’s silent for so long, you think he’s asleep. Then—

“I never asked you to stay.”

It’s a knife without sharpness. A dull blade. And somehow, that makes it worse.

Your breath hitches. “Is that what I’ve been doing? Staying?”

He doesn’t answer.

Because he knows.

And so do you.

The day you leave, he doesn’t fight. Not really. 

He just watches you pack a small suitcase. You leave the rest. You leave the house. 

You leave the life you waited too long for.

But before you walk out the door, you turn to him. He stands in the doorway, arms crossed, still wearing the shirt you folded for him yesterday.

“I loved you so much, Sae.”

He looks at you like he almost believes you didn’t. “You still do.”

You nod. “Yeah. And that’s the saddest part.”

It’s raining when you step into the cab. Of course it is.

But for the first time in years, the silence inside you starts to sound like peace.

Not absence.

Just...quiet.

The apartment you live in now is smaller. There’s no grand foyer. No marble countertops or a view of the city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. Just one bedroom, a couch you picked out by yourself, and a kitchen with mismatched plates and mugs.

It’s quiet here, too.

But not the kind of quiet that swallows you whole.

This one... this quiet lets you breathe.

Still, some mornings are harder than others.

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, the rim of your coffee cup pressed to your lips but untouched. 

Your phone buzzes, face-down on the wood. You ignore it. 

You’ve gotten good at that. Letting people reach for you without having to reach back.

But something nags at you. So you flip the phone over.

A headline lights up the screen.

“Sae Itoshi: Better and Better, Even After Divorce.”

At 32, Japan’s prodigal midfielder is aging like fine wine—and nothing seems to slow him down.

Your stomach drops before you can stop it.

The article auto-loads, as if your phone already knew you’d read it.

There’s a photo. He’s on the field in a sharp navy kit. His hair longer than you remember. Still unreadable. Still beautiful in that cold, impossible way.

You skim, even when you don’t want to:

“After a decade at the top, Itoshi continues to impress. His stats have only improved, his stamina unshakable. When asked about his divorce that happened a year ago, the midfielder declined to comment, simply stating, ‘My focus is football.’”

Of course it is.

You set the phone down slowly.

He’s still shining. Maybe brighter than before. And not a single thing has changed.

No stumble. No pause. Just a chapter closed, and a new one opened without you.

You, though?

You left with nothing but your name.

No shared bank accounts. 

No alimony. 

No custody battles—there was nothing to fight over. 

Not even a goldfish to argue about.

You walked away with your clothes, your pride, and a ring in the bottom of a drawer.

And somehow, you’re the one mourning.

Not the man he is now. You don’t even know him.

You mourn the boy who whispered “I love you” in a chapel under Spanish stars.

The man who once kissed your hand like it was sacred.

The version of him who looked at you like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Not the stranger who took his place.

And still—

Still, when it rains, you think of him.

Still, when you cook too much food, you instinctively plate two servings.

Still, when the crowd cheers on your TV and they zoom in on him—jaw tight, eyes ruthless, chest rising beneath that number ten—you feel something tug deep in your ribs.

You press the phone face-down again, like it’ll help the ache go away.

The coffee’s cold now, but you drink it anyway.

Because you’re still learning how to live without someone who’s very much alive.

Because some love doesn’t die with divorce.

It just turns into something you have to shove down til it disappears.

ohhh sae you stupid, stupid man

well, that's the end of this series!! I hope you all enjoyed it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

❀ tags: ❀ @kenyuukissme ❀ @irethepotato ❀ @kiyy0mei ❀ @x3nafix ❀ @sugacor3 ❀ @ohagiyo ❀ @reigensuperstar ❀ @nevvynevnev ❀ join the taglist here !

❀ tags for this series: ❀ @silverwings920 ❀ @anqelkoz

⋆.˚✮ 2025 ©airybcby ✮˚.⋆

I love them, and they love each other

thank youu! for responding to my comment so quickly I was just thinking like a sort of childhood friends but the reader becomes a famous actress and sae still a footballer something cute like fluff and maybe a bit of smut but honestly whatever you prefer cause I really love your work and would like to see more of sae but it’s no rush whenever you have the time and thank youu again!!

Ughhh I had so much fun writing this request! I almost never write Sae, so something’s might be out of character, but I hope that you’re happy with what I wrote!

just a flicker - s. itoshi

cw: childhood best friends! actor!reader! language, angst, fluff, possibly ooc, some brief making out at the end

wc: 1.8k

Growing up was never easy on anyone. Growing up alongside Sae Itoshi brought even more complications. He was never quite as creative as you. Not as academic. Never as polite or gentle. If you didn’t know him, Sae was harsh. Not intentionally rude, just blunt. It was difficult to get used to if you weren’t already close to him. It was just as much a curse as it was a blessing that you knew him.

When you were little, Sae was one of your only friends. You got along well with his little brother, and he got along well with your big sister. You lived nearby. You went to the same school. Sometimes your sister would have a soccer game before his or on a field nearby. It was almost guaranteed for you to get close to him. You both had finally found someone who was equally as passionate at such a young age. He knew that he wanted to play soccer. You knew that you wanted to act. And you were both exceptionally talented already. You were both considered prodigies by all of Japan. Prodigies tended to be best friends, right?

Best friends tend to be our first heartbreak, though.

When you were both thirteen, Sae broke the news to you that he was going to Spain. You were still processing it as you sat in the back seat of his parents’ car, driving to the airport with him and the rest of his family. You didn’t talk to him at all on the way there. When you got to the airport and dropped him off at security, you told him bye and he reassured you that he’d still text. Then that was it. You watched him go through the line, and he disappeared the moment he passed through.

You didn’t speak to him for four more years.

Despite both of your promises, the years ended up going by without so much as a single word from the other. You cut ties with Rin around the same time. Now, at eighteen years old, you were world famous. You had already starred in several productions and received even more role offers. You were finally where you had always wanted to be, and there was still something missing.

Finally, the dreaded day came where you had to go fly out to Madrid for onsite filming for your new rom-com movie. The entire plane ride over, you couldn’t stop thinking about Sae. Would you run into him? Madrid was a big city, sure, but you were supposed to be there the week of one of his biggest matches of the season. Surely you’d at least see a fan or two.

Apparently you had forgotten who the love interest in your movie was supposed to be. A professional soccer player. You’d be at the goddamn stadium.

The film crew had set up just down the road from the stadium. You were standing there on a break, trying not to die in the heat, talking to one of the crew members. That was when you saw him across the street leaving the stadium. He had his practice bag slung over his shoulder. Of course, with your horrible luck, he noticed you, too. And he just stared at you, unblinking.

“Hey, Mina…? I’m gonna head to my trailer really quick. I forgot a couple of my script pages, I think,” you told the girl you were talking to, never breaking eye contact with Sae. You took a few slow steps back, and then sprinted. When you looked over your shoulder back at the stadium, his bag was abandoned on the ground and he was no where in sight. You glanced back a couple of minutes later to see him running after you through the crowd of actors and crew members.

What the hell was his problem? Why was he following you like a crazy person? Thank god your trailer was nearby, because you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to outrun him. You reached the door just before he caught up to you, slamming it shut, locking it, and throwing yourself in front of it. God, you were out of breath. He was gone, though. You were safe.

The you heard the banging. “Open the door, Y/N.” His voice was relatively calm, but clearly frustrated in his own emotionally constipated way.

“No!” You yelled back at him. Your back was still pressed against the metal door.

“Why?” He scoffed, stopping his knocking.

“Because!”

“You’re the one who stopped texting me, you can’t be mad.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t want to see you!”

You could almost sense him freezing on the other side of the door. “Did you just start hating me the moment I was gone?”

You froze, too. “What? No, that’s not… that’s not what I meant, okay?”

“So you’re running from your own guilt?”

That comment made you nearly stop breathing. Somehow, after four years, Sae Itoshi of all people could read you. The only person who was worse with emotions was his brother. How could he pinpoint how you felt?

So you opened the door. And you talked to him. And you got out years of pent up frustration, and confusion, and guilt. You were the one who had abandoned him, after all. You decided that it wasn’t worth it to text him when you knew that he’d be in a completely different country from you forever. Why be friends with someone you could never see? Especially when you were thirteen and just starting to realize that you were in love with him?

You started talking to him again. He texted you every morning and every night and called you once a week. It was structured, and exact, and way too Sae Itoshi. Then eventually he was flying you out to Spain for weeks at a time when you didn’t have filming. After a couple of months, you two were going on dates without ever asking each other out. Then you were going to his soccer games and he was at your movie premiers. Then you were hugging and holding hands without putting a label on your relationship. And suddenly the entire world started to think you were dating Sae Itoshi.

You were starting to think so, too.

Right when you were about to give up again and leave him to figure his own shit out, you caught it. You were just sitting in the box at one of his matches — debating what you would say to him after the game — when he scored. It happened so fast that you could barely process what he did afterward, but you could just barely catch his hand wrapping around a chain he was wearing. You had bought him that.

You could still picture the exact moment you had given him that necklace, actually. It was just a stupid silver chain with a soccer ball pendant you had found when you were hanging out with him one day. You were twelve. Back then, any mention of soccer made you think of Sae, so you thought it would have been a cute gift. His birthday was coming up anyways.

When you handed it to him, all he said was, “You’re weird.” And he shoved it into his pocket.

You never expected him to still have it, though.

The night after the match, you had planned to stay at his place pretty late having a movie night. It was your idea. He went along with it because he didn’t care enough to argue with you. So, you met him outside of the locker room like usual. You had gotten special permission to be in the back area of the stadium by then.

He gave you a small nod of acknowledgment as he left the locker room. You two walked silently beside each other as you left the stadium; you didn’t dare to open your mouth until you reached his car.

“So,” you began the moment the doors had closed and he started the engine. You weren’t entirely sure where you were going with it. “That was a nice goal.”

“Thanks.”

“Cool that you guys won.”

“Yeah.”

And then it was silent again. It was always silent when you were with Sae.

“Were you… wearing a necklace during the game?” you promoted, trying to be subtle enough to not sound crazy.

“I always do,” he shrugged, his eyes completely focused on the road.

You nodded. “Where did you get it?”

He raised a brow in confusion. “You gave it to me.”

“Oh.”

Then you both went quiet again.

After just a few minutes, you had both settled next to each other on the couch in Sae’s living room. The only movie request he had made was one of your most popular ones. In that moment, you doubted you could stand to see your own face in some shitty romance.

It took forty minutes for Sae to look over at you. “Your face is all scrunched up.”

You blinked, meeting his eyes. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t realize it,” you shrugged, feigning indifference as you turned your attention back to the TV screen.

“You’re so clueless,” he scoffed, clearly still staring at you.

You huffed. “Okay, rude.”

“You’re seriously clueless.”

“Stop repeating yourself, idiot,” you threw a piece of popcorn at his face, trying not to grin as it got stuck in his hair.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re an actor. Shouldn’t you be able to pick up on cues without me having to directly tell you something?”

“What do you not want to tell me?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve and you’ve been too stupid to figure it out the entire time.”

Oh.

You froze completely, not even daring to glance at him. You wanted to run and hide, to bury yourself under forty pillows, to burrow away like an ostrich. That wasn’t what you were expecting. That wasn’t what you wanted. Was it?

No. It absolutely was.

In the blur of you nodding your head, telling him that you’ve felt the same way the entire time, and whatever he had said in response, he had paused the movie and pressed his lips to yours. You had expected Sae to be more rough, maybe a bit ruthless like how he played on the field. Maybe even apathetic like how he presented himself to everyone. But he wasn’t. He was eager. He was hungry.

He placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pulling you closer. His other hand slid from your cheek to the back of your head, deepening the kiss more than you were prepared for. When you recovered from your shock, you moved your hands into his hair. Even with the intensity, he still kept the pace slow. He was still careful. For the first time in four years, he was finally somewhere to could consider home.

@graciescott27

ᯓ★ thinking about how he pretends like he’s winning the idgaf war but the second you invite him to matcha and yap with you he’s putting on his best outfit, spraying his nicest cologne, and on the way to meet you (he doesn’t even like matcha that much.) and then afterwards he’s kicking his feet and blushing like a girl, writing his notes app entry about your “date” today and how your hand had brushed his for a little too long whilst you were explaining something that had went over his head—his attention was wholly focused on the cute faces you made when you were excited.

god forbid anyone ever stumble upon his locked notes, they’re lengthy, movie-transcript worthy accounts of each hangout.

—ITOSHI RIN, karasu tabito, ISAGI YOICHI (bllk), FUSHIGURO MEGUMI, inumaki toge, GOJO SATORU (jjk), TARTAGLIA, heizou, kinich (genshin)

Hange: “look out Levi, a clown is coming to gobble you up”

Levi: “shut up, shitty glasses”

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

NEED THIS, if anyone has this vibe, HIT ME UP. Anyway this gives me CHOSO KAMO vibes

He is so effortlessly handsome.