autqmn
🇵🇭 ! minor
183 posts
Latest Posts by autqmn
website
It breaks my heart that if young Akutagawa met young Atsushi he would've taken him in and cared for him in the way he did the other orphans
Y'know what. I think Nagi being eliminated because of love was the point.
Blue Lock is not like other shounen manga; it is not about the strength of friendship and forming bonds. It has always had a recurring theme of sacrificing yourself in order to pursue individualism (see: all the times Isagi compromised his morals or personal beliefs in order to win).
Kunigami is a good example of this. The Wild Card process forced him to remake himself in order to survive. He became more serious and aggressive, and his general disposition is now noticeable darker. In any other story, this would be considered a negative and/or concerning change, but Blue Lock frames his transformation as a victory, reinforcing the message that players must reshape themselves into more selfish, combative, and unhinged individuals in order to become stronger and succeed. Those unwillingly to give up these "restrictive" parts of themselves get locked off.
Although Nagi did coast by with his talent in the beginning, it was never actually his work ethic that was holding him back. It was because he started trying for Reo. He was not an individualist; he was not selfish enough to be an egoist. Both by his and Ego's admission, that was his true weakness.
Nagi's love for Reo is the antithesis of everything Ego is trying to cultivate with Blue Lock, and that is what led to his downfall.
attractive things they do ; inarizaki ver . ⋆˚࿔
atsumu ; chews on everything. its such a pet peeve to everyone else but you somehow. chews on everything like its got answer. its really dumb, but kind of endearing in a way. he always needs something in his mouth, pencaps, straw ends, hoodie strings.
osamu ; lets you have the first bite of everything. no matter how excited he is about the food, how expensive or scarce, he always lets you have the best, and the first bite. he acts like it’s no big deal, but it is. he’ll even rotate the plate to angle the best part toward you, like you wouldn’t notice.
kita ; fixing things that arent his. he quietly straightens someone’s collar, or pluck the dandruff out of their hair without asking. doesnt call attention to it, he just does it like its the natural thing to do. doesn’t call attention to it, doesn’t expect anything back. like its just the way things are.
suna ; holds back his laughs. he very rarely laughs big like either of the miya twins, and doesnt have a naturally quiet laugh like kita. he just smirks, looks down, and exhales through his nose, or lets out a breathy chuckle. covers his mouth with the back of his hand and looks away.
aran ; pacemaker. always waits for everyone to keep up, even if it means he’s a couple steps behind everyone else. doesnt want to leave anyone behind. turns his head back mid-walk just to check no one got left behind. never hurries anyone, never complains.
ginjima ; brings an extra pair of everything. extra pencils, extra snacks, extra change. never asks to be repaid, either. just wordlessly passes it to whoever needs it without any fuss. if someone needs something he doesnt have, he’ll start bringing that, too.
akagi ; remembers weirdly specific stuff. will question you if you start using a different font on instagram, or if you start holding your pencil a different way. the littlest things you never noticed, but also somehow misses if you got a haircut or got new glasses. “you used to dot your i’s with circles. when’d you stop?”
[ req for ; @dottydoe ]
hii, hope ur alright! some1 recently requested a rin ff, the one with the calvin klein briefs and i wanted to ask if u could write one like that again but with isagi if thats okay!! thank you <3
“𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞?”
a/n: i loved the rin one so i am happy i can write an isagi one! however, i did make it a little different, with reader and isagi not dating in this one, but rather, just finding each other attractive + isagi def asks for your number after the shoot
listened to sativa while writing this so the title was def inspired by that song
(artist is louvbon on twitter)
you pride yourself on being a professional. you’ve worked in high-pressure sets, shot campaigns for big-name brands, captured images of people whose faces are plastered across billboards and subway walls. but nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for this shoot.
because standing in front of your lens right now, stretching his arms behind his head in a way that makes his abs flex on purpose, is isagi yoichi, japan’s soccer golden boy, international heartthrob, and apparently, the newest face of calvin klein.
in nothing but boxer briefs.
you’re holding your camera like it might catch fire, blinking furiously as if that’ll reboot your brain. maybe if you hit yourself hard enough with the lens, you’ll stop staring at the way the light hits his chest. or the subtle line that dips down past his hips. or how the calvin kleins are hanging just an inch lower than necessary to make your job very, very difficult.
“lighting okay?” he asks casually, running a hand through his already-messy hair. like this is any regular day. like he’s not the problem here.
you attempt to sound composed, professional. “yeah. uh. yeah, lighting’s great. very… lighty.”
lighty?
just kill me, you think. let the studio lights crash down on my head.
isagi’s lips twitch. “lighty, huh?”
you don’t answer. instead, you bury your face behind the camera and pretend to fiddle with settings you already fixed twenty minutes ago. you don’t need him knowing he’s throwing you off. he probably already suspects it, but you don’t need to confirm it.
but of course, he doesn’t let it go.
he steps closer, slow and easy, like a predator in no rush. “you sure you’re good? you look kinda… flustered.”
you scoff, stepping back with practiced nonchalance. “i’m not flustered. i’m just trying to work.”
“you’re blushing.”
“it’s hot in here.”
“it’s a temperature-controlled studio. with AC.”
you narrow your eyes at him. “isagi, can you please just go lean against the wall and look vaguely mysterious? brood. smolder. whatever it is models do.”
he laughs, laughs, like this is all a joke to him. “i’m not a model.”
“no, you’re worse,” you mutter under your breath. “you’re an athlete with no business being this good-looking.”
his eyebrows shoot up. “what was that?”
“nothing,” you say quickly, lifting your camera again. “pose, pretty boy.”
he does, finally, pressing his back to the wall, gaze smoldering (probably on purpose), muscles tensing in a way that makes you want to look away and also never stop looking. it’s unfair. he’s not even trying. how is that fair?
you adjust your angle, trying to stay in work mode. this is your job. you are here to take photos, not to mentally rank how kissable your subject’s lips look from this distance.
“you know,” he says suddenly, tone light, “you’re the first photographer i’ve worked with who can’t look me in the eye.”
you freeze, mid-shot. “… i can look you in the eye.”
“can you?”
you lower the camera slowly. meet his gaze. mistake. big mistake.
his eyes are stupidly dark blue. bright and playful and cocky as hell. and there’s a glint in them that tells you he knows. he knows exactly the effect he has on you.
you click your tongue, stepping back. “you’re distracting.”
he grins. “is that a compliment?”
“no. it’s a problem.”
“is it the abs?”
“it’s the ego.”
he laughs again, and it sounds like victory. “okay, okay. serious mode. what do you want me to do next?”
you inhale slowly, resisting the urge to throw your clipboard at him. “keep the shirt off. lean forward. hands behind your head.”
he raises a brow but follows your direction. you focus the lens. try to ignore the way his muscles move as he shifts. he looks like a damn sculpture. and somehow, despite being practically half-naked, he still looks so clean-cut, so isagi yoichi. the boy-next-door who just happens to be on the cover of every major sports magazine and now, your camera roll.
“so,” he says, voice low, “if this wasn’t a photoshoot, would you still be staring?”
you nearly choke.
“i– excuse me?”
“just curious.”
you lower the camera. “if this wasn’t a photoshoot, you’d be wearing a shirt.”
“and that would make it easier for you, huh?”
you blink. “you’re ridiculous.”
“you’re the one blushing.”
“you’re the one half-naked!”
he grins, utterly shameless. “you’re the one who told me to pose like this.”
you groan, covering your face with your hand. “this is the worst day of my professional career.”
“nah,” he says, smug, “i think it’s the best.”
you peek at him through your fingers. he winks.
you’re so doomed.
BONUS:
the shoot finally wraps, and you’re desperately trying to look like a person who wasn’t just mentally derailed for two hours straight. the assistants are packing up, the stylist’s asking isagi about his next match, and you're pretending to be very interested in organizing your memory cards even though you’ve already labeled them.
isagi walks over with that same relaxed confidence that’s been driving you insane since the moment he stepped on set. he’s dressed now, jeans and a hoodie, thank gosh, but somehow, that almost makes it worse. he looks too normal. too boyfriend-coded. the kind of guy you’d see in a café and immediately text your best friend about.
“hey,” he says, hands tucked in his pockets. “thanks for today. you made it fun.”
you glance up from your equipment, doing your best to keep it casual. “oh? you mean despite me almost combusting on the spot every five minutes?”
he chuckles, leaning slightly toward you. “i thought it was charming.”
you roll your eyes, lips twitching. “you would.”
there’s a beat. a quiet moment between you, tucked in the noise of the studio tear-down. and then he scratches the back of his neck, almost shy for once.
“listen… if you’re not already seeing someone, maybe you could text me some of the shots when they’re ready?” he says, almost too smoothly, then adds, “and maybe, like… something that’s not work-related too.”
you stare at him, blinking. “are you seriously using the ‘send me the photos’ line to get my number?”
he shrugs, grinning. “i figured i’d keep it on theme.”
you hesitate… then pull your phone from your pocket and hand it to him. “fine. but if you send me shirtless mirror selfies, i’m blocking you.”
“no promises,” he says, typing quickly before handing it back. “i’m more of a candid guy, anyway.”
you glance at your screen. yoichi isagi ⚽📸
he even added a little camera emoji.
you groan. “you’re the worst.”
“but i’m still getting a text, right?”
“we’ll see,” you say, walking away.
and you don’t see it, but he’s smiling the whole way out.
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
now what rlly pmo abt the blue lock fandom is when people say that rin and sae are similar in personality or if people give those two the same reactions to things, because they are VERY different people.
sae is a completely nonchalant guy. he’s more or less emotionless around most people, and he doesn’t really get mad or even slightly irritated unless someone gives him random physical affection (shidou). he’s rude because he says whatever is on his mind, no matter how rude it is or how much “erm actually” energy it gives, although sae also isn’t afraid of complimenting someone as he complimented Isagi at the end of the u20 arc. basically, sae has a pretty dry personality.
rin is similar on the outside, but certainly not the inside. rin tries to be nonchalant in order to imitate sae, but rin is the least from nonchalant. he gets mad easily, he’s got the emotional maturity of a child, and speaks rudely even though it usually isn’t what he actually thinks. rin knows that isagi is just as good as he is, but he always says something rude at isagi out of insecurity and to imitate sae. so to sum it up, sae is just a dry asshole with not a whole lot of brightness to him. meanwhile, rin pretends to be nonchalant but is the opposite.
rin has anger issues and emotional management issues, and sae just has issues in general.
we need to talk about reo’s mischaracterization.
no, he is not some perfect and sweet guy who will spoil you rotten with money. in fact, it’s hinted at that reo dislikes and often avoids using his money on other people. reo is not emotionally intelligent in the least and was so sheltered in his childhood that he grew up to be emotionally vulnerable, hence why he doesn’t look at the big picture and think things through and only tries to get nagi back when he leaves him.
reo is so used to having everything handed to him that the moment something gets taken away from him, he loses all logic and will do anything to get it back. he likes everything to be in his control, and he likes it when people does what he wants them to, uncaring of their emotions and only caring about his own. in a way, reo’s personality is extremely similar to his father’s, as his father wanted reo to inherit the corporation despite reo’s not wanting to.
when things don’t go his way, reo turns into a spoiled brat. he gets upset and refuses to see the bigger picture, often too caught up in his own emotions to realize the logic of the situation and that he is being immature.
this panel says a lot. for context, reo’s parents had just told him that he can’t win the world cup because he needs to inherit the company. before i discuss the ridiculous situation here, why does reo even consider killing his parents? they haven’t been abusive in any way up to this point in his entire life. he has zero right to want to kill his parents. not only that, but his dad has a point. reo is 16 (soon to be 17) in this scene, and his dad is perfectly correct to think that starting soccer so late, especially in a life where you’ve been training for business your entire childhood, is stupid.
all in all, im all for reo being a lovesick guy who gets emotionally attached easily. but remember that this guy also has a nasty spoiled personality who has the emotional maturity of a child and the attitude of a toddler when things don’t go his way.
(and yes, i do know that his parents are to blame for their child ending up this way since they’ve spoiled him ever since he was born.)
brother's best friend & roommate suna who almost managed to get you off his mind until you move in with them temporarily due to a fire at your place (you swear it wasn't your cooking's fault, osamu is not convinced but seems secretly happy to share a roof with you again and swears he's not being overprotective, suna curses himself under his breath because your perfume is already lingering everywhere and it's only been an hour since they picked you up)
suna and you don't talk about the one time you kissed at the twin's birthday party, hidden away in a dark corner of the garden, one leg of his slotted between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair and your lips parting for him so willingly–
you don't talk. but there's suna's hand on the small of your back when he's squeezing past you in the bathroom, there's your scrunchie on his wrist because he knows you happen to misplace it otherwise, there's his fingers tangling with yours under the kotatsu while osamu peels oranges for both of you. then there's another kiss, another night, you can't sleep and suna didn't even try, instead he's lifting the covers for you when you slip into his room, pulling you closer by the hips until you're melting against him, like you belong.
you're his best kept secret; though he's not sure for how much longer he can keep you as such because his big hands muffle only so much when he clasps them over your mouth, his own name pushed back between your lips (oh, your lips; coated with strawberry lip balm, your own slick and his spit) while he trails kisses from your jaw down the side of your neck.
you taste so sweet, he thinks, he wants to devour you whole.
NEW ISAGI YOICHI ART! Posted by Nomura-sensei on Twitter!
SOBBING.
i saw that you would write sibling stuff and i got a little too excited with sm ideas but i'll request just one for now (expect more from here on ehehe if you want to ofc!!) (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟokay okay hear me out, rin itoshi with a little sister (1-2 yrs) reader that acts too much like sae. they have a good relationship and all but he can't help but see him in her and it makes him sad (or something like that,,)
“𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦?”
a/n: rin needs therapy so bad bro
(i wish i knew art credits bc it's so good 😭)
you don’t mean to do it.
you’re not trying to mimic him, or rub salt into an old wound that’s only just started scabbing over, but sometimes, when you talk, when you look at rin like that, all sharp-eyed and unimpressed, he feels like he’s back at that damn kitchen table, 14 and losing everything all at once.
“your posture’s slipping,” you say from the couch, phone in hand, eyes flicking up from whatever reel you were watching.
rin’s on the floor doing stretches, and he exhales slowly through his nose. not because you’re wrong, he had started to slack, but because that exact phrase, tone and all, sounds exactly like sae.
you don’t notice. or maybe you do, and you’re just like him enough not to say anything.
“thanks,” rin mumbles, readjusting his form. he sees your lips twitch. amused. knowing.
and maybe that’s what stings the most – how much you know.
you were only a year younger. too young to understand the full weight of it back then, but old enough to remember the silence, the way rin stopped smiling overnight, the cold war that bloomed in the house like rot. you were always quieter after that. sharper. more like sae.
it’s not just the snark or the way you call out his bullshit. it’s the late nights, the obsessive drive, the way you train until your knuckles are raw and your voice is gone. the way you’d rather chew glass than ask for help. sae’s ambition lives in your spine. it walks in your footsteps.
and gosh, rin hates it.
not because you’re like sae, but because it means you might leave like he did.
you’re both older now. you still bicker, you still steal each other’s socks, but you have each other’s backs. always. and yet rin finds himself watching you too long, too often, memorizing the slope of your shoulders, the sound of your laugh, the little things he can hold onto in case one day he blinks and you’re gone too.
“you spacing out again?” you ask, flipping your phone over. “don’t cry, rin. i know my critiques are brutal.”
he snorts, half a smile pulling at his lips.
“you’re not that funny.”
“neither are you, but here we are.”
he wants to say don’t be like him. don’t burn yourself out. don’t leave me behind.
instead, he just says, “you coming to my match this weekend?”
“duh,” you reply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. and to you, it is.
and when you’re cheering from the stands, arms crossed, pretending you’re not invested, but clapping anyway, he sees sae again.
but for once, it doesn’t hurt as much.
you stayed.
and maybe that’s enough.
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
With kaisagi being guns & roses, bachisagi being bees % spouts, what would Rinsagi be?? (hear me out: Nineleven)
something about play fighting with sae. more often than not, he isn’t phased by your attempts to provoke him. little pokes or prods, teases — they don’t get much out of him, other than perhaps a raised brow, if anything.
you can’t recall what you’d done this time that managed to get under his skin. you don’t think you’d really been trying, either.
warm and comfy in one of his stolen sweaters, you’d climbed onto the couch after a bath. you should’ve noticed something off, then. his eyes had fixated on you since you entered the room, arm flexing just a little tighter as he drew you into his side.
you mewl, coy and slippery. and somehow, for some reason, five minutes later, you’re caught under his weight. half-hearted kicks only get your legs pinned; your arms are next, stretched up above your head against the armrest.
“sae, no fair.”
he gazes down at you. his neutral expression hasn’t changed, but there’s an unspeakably keen glint in his eye as he watches you fuss under him.
“no?” he murmurs, a trace of mocking as he squeezes your wrists.
you twist and try new strategies. purposely arching in a way meant to entice and distract.
but he only slides his free hand under your sweater — his, really — and the thought makes his pinch to your supple side that much sweeter.
you make a protesting sound that provokes him better than you ever could’ve known.
“hush.”
“what—?” you start to demand in outrage, feigned to hide your delight.
but he swallows your voice, his lips finding your throat, and you finding the realization: to only start fights you can win.
⋆｡°🎧ྀི.⊹₊ ⋆ i think the bachirinsagi best friends agenda needs to be pushed more. all three of them are weirdos, they’re so best friends :3
I'm curious. Reblog this if you know how to cook
I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat.
Gojo gives a class assignment
Suave Dazai is so funny to me that man is a loser. That man can’t take a compliment to save his life.
Dazai can talk the talk sure but the second someone flirts back he’s gone.
He can’t handle that he’d initiate cardiac arrest just to change the subject.
Because that man is a complete mess of a human being and he’s just lucky no one’s tried to flirt back with him.
revisiting an obsession rn (stardust crusaders and 80s fashion magazines)
Crack Concept: Dazai gets sick of Fyodor’s shit and just abandons their little mental chess game.
To deck him in the face.
Suffice to say Fyodor didn’t see that coming.
THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING TO MY FRIENDS BUT THEY DONT BELIEVE ME 😔
Bluelock chapter 298 spoilers
Interesting direction with nagi leaving could be that he ends up on another team and plays against Japan in the world cup, with episode nagi following his progression there.
I think this has the potential to be actually genius, to give fans another team to root for (think haikyuu) which would in turn make the overall conflict even more intense, with higher stakes, plus getting more people to read episode nagi = 💸
Additionally, it would be really big brain if the original intention of episode nagi was to give a story in parallel about the bluelock opponents (which I guess is the actual point of episode nagi, just on a bigger scale)
Thoughts?
pls lawd stop putting ur smut into the angst/fluff tags 🤺
Hey idk if you've written for this before but isagi dating an itoshi sibling and I would love to read about that if its alright with you.
I love your writing sm💗💗!
“𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞”
a/n: thank you sm!!!
i was debating between both brothers finding out at the same time or sae, being the older brother, knowing that you were dating isagi and then it's just rin who's teh last to find out lol
(art credits go to yamakadatoomta)
you really thought you had it handled.
the plan was foolproof: isagi would come over under the pretense of borrowing a book you absolutely did not own, you’d hang out for twenty minutes, kiss him goodbye at the door, and no one would be any the wiser. your brothers had no reason to suspect anything. sae was always mentally in spain, and rin actively avoided eye contact with anyone not shaped like a soccer ball.
so when you opened the door and saw isagi standing there looking like he’d just been interrogated by the CIA, you knew something had gone horribly wrong.
“yoichi," you said slowly. "what happened?"
“i ran into rin outside,” he whispered. “i panicked. i told him i was here to see sae.”
you blinked. “what.”
“and then, then rin asked why i was here to see sae, and i said… to talk about… defensive tactics?”
“you’re a striker.”
“i know! i panicked!”
“yoichi,” you hissed, dragging him inside. “you had one job.”
before you could close the door, you heard footsteps – two pairs. heavy. foreboding. emotionally repressed.
rin entered first, giving isagi the kind of look you usually reserved for gum stuck to your shoe. “he said he wanted to talk tactics with sae,” he muttered. “i knew something was off. he called him sir.”
sae followed with a flat expression and a slightly raised brow. “didn’t even offer me coffee first.”
you knew the jig was up. there was no salvaging this. isagi was sweating bullets, trying to stand straight like he was being drafted, and your heart was pounding in a way that felt less romantic and more like a cardiac arrest.
so you did what any rational person would do in a moment of pressure and anxiety.
you blurted it out.
“he’s dating me!”
the silence that followed was so heavy it could’ve crushed a small animal.
rin blinked, slowly, like his brain had blue-screened.
sae stared at you, then at isagi, then back at you.
“ew,” rin finally said, voice flat. “seriously?”
“yes,” you said. “for three months.”
sae tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to figure out if he was being punked. “wait. you’re into him?”
“what is that supposed to mean?” isagi asked, mildly offended.
“no offense,” sae replied, looking at him like a very bland granola bar. “you just seem... soft.”
“soft?” isagi looked at you like he was reconsidering his whole personality. “am i soft?”
“you cried during marley & me,” you said.
“that movie was sad!”
rin cut in, eyes narrowing. “when were you planning to tell us?”
“ideally?” you said. “never.”
sae gave a soft snort and dropped onto the couch like this was suddenly the most entertaining thing to happen all week. “honestly, i’m impressed you kept it from him.” he jerked his thumb at rin. “dude gets suspicious when the milk moves to a different shelf.”
“hey,” rin snapped. “i’m observant.”
“you thought she was sneaking out to play genshin with friends,” sae deadpanned.
“i did!” rin said, defensively. then paused. “… you weren’t?”
“bro,” you said. “be serious.”
rin ran a hand down his face and looked at isagi like he was mentally picturing him being thrown off a cliff. “so what, you just lied to me for three months?”
“you terrorized my last boyfriend,” you shot back. “he bought you a cake and you said it tasted like lies.”
“it did.”
“it was vanilla.”
“exactly.”
isagi cleared his throat. “look, i get it. if i had a little sister, i’d be protective too.”
rin looked him dead in the eye. “you don’t. and now you never will.”
“that doesn’t make any sense,” isagi whispered.
“stop threatening my boyfriend,” you muttered, elbowing rin’s side.
sae, who had somehow taken one of the snack bags out of isagi’s plastic bag like this was a matinee show, spoke up. “as long as he doesn’t screw up, i don’t care. it’s actually kind of cute. tragic. but cute.”
you stared at him. “tragic?”
“i just know it’s going to be so awkward when you break up,” sae said casually, like he was talking about the weather.
“why would we break up?” you asked.
“statistically speaking,” he shrugged, popping a chip in his mouth.
“okay, thanks for the support, father of the year.”
isagi, visibly fighting for his life, spoke up again. “for the record, i really care about her. and i’m serious. like… serious-serious.”
rin stared.
sae nodded like a dad giving half-hearted approval at a little league game.
“hm,” sae said. “just don’t get caught making out in the living room.”
“or the kitchen,” rin added. “i still have to eat there.”
you groaned and threw your head back. “can we not visualize that right now?”
rin muttered something that sounded like “disgusting” under his breath, while sae stood up, stole another snack, and wandered off like nothing happened.
isagi sagged into the couch beside you, shell-shocked. “i think i aged ten years.”
“you handled it like a champ,” you said, patting his thigh.
“really?”
“no.”
but you smiled, and he smiled back, and despite the chaos, you felt oddly okay.
because if your brothers were willing to tolerate isagi, even after all this? maybe it was love after all.
or at least enough to survive the next family dinner.
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
Hello,
I hope you’re all doing well. 🌿
I need your help to share my family's story and raise awareness about our struggle. Every voice counts, and your support means the world. 🙏
💬 Please reblog my pinned post or, if you're able, consider donating just $5—it could be life-changing for those facing unimaginable hardship.
Your kindness and solidarity make a real difference. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍✨
@abedmajeed
⬆️
Dear Human, I am writing to you as a human being like you. I am part of a family that is going through difficult times amidst this genocide. My brother suffers from bipolar disorder, and we only need €80 to buy his essential medication. The situation has become even more difficult than before, with the crossings being closed for over a month. We ask you to stand by us, whether by donating, sharing our story, or talking about us. 🙏💔
⬆️
🚨URGENT🚨
Please stop ✋🚨 you're the only hope to save a child🥺
My son Mohammed is in critical condition after being shot by Israeli drones. He has been taken to the operating ⛺️ and urgently needs treatment outside the Gaza Strip.
I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺 .
I need your help please donate and share, evry contribution, no matter how small, brings us hope in these dark times.
Mohammed deserves to live a happy and healthy life, just like every other child on this earth.
Please Donate now:👇👇 👇
—————————————————————————
✅️My campaign is vetted by el-shab-hussein& Nabulsi's, my number verified on the list is ( #355)✅️ 👇
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1yYkNp5U3ANwILl2MknJi9G7ArY4uVTEEQ1CVfzR8Ioo/htmlview
——————————————————————————
💌 BSD Men & Handwritten Notes Hidden in Your Things ✉️
Because sometimes, love is found in the smallest details.
⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙
💌 Osamu Dazai – Little Games, Little Confessions
Dazai’s notes are a game.
You find them in your coat pockets, tucked between the pages of books, slipped into your bag when you’re not looking.
Some are teasing.
“I saw you looking at me earlier. Falling for me already, bella?”
Some are poetic.
“If I leave before you wake, don’t think of it as me disappearing—think of it as me waiting for you in another moment.”
And some—the rare ones—are real.
A napkin from the café you both love, with only five words scribbled in his elegant handwriting:
“You make the world bearable.”
You never bring them up.
And neither does he.
Because Dazai will never say these things aloud.
But he knows you find them. He knows you keep them.
And that—that is enough for him.
💌 Chuuya Nakahara – What I Can’t Say Out Loud
Chuuya doesn’t write notes often.
But when he does—you keep every single one.
They’re never long, never dramatic—just small things, things he wouldn’t say aloud but still wants you to know.
Tucked inside your wallet:
“Buy yourself something nice. And don’t argue.”
Slipped under your coffee cup in the morning:
“You didn’t sleep well, did you? Take it easy today.”
And sometimes—the ones that mean the most.
Left beside your pillow when he has to leave for a mission before you wake up:
“I’ll be back soon. Be safe. I love you.”
(That one, you keep in your nightstand.)
Because Chuuya doesn’t say these things often.
But when he does—he means them.
💌 Fyodor Dostoevsky – Messages in Riddles and Ruin
Fyodor does not leave notes.
He leaves challenges.
You find them in the books he lends you—passages underlined, cryptic quotes with no explanation.
“Is it possible to love and still be cruel?”
“To know someone is to destroy them. Do you agree?”
Sometimes, it’s a chess move written on a torn scrap of paper, left on your desk, as if waiting for you to make the next move.
But one night—you find something different.
A letter, folded neatly, hidden under your pillow.
Not a riddle. Not a test.
Just one line.
“I will never ask you to stay, but I will always wonder if you will.”
And suddenly—you realize that even Fyodor Dostoevsky has things he is afraid to say.
💌 Nikolai Gogol – Do You Know the Magic Word?
Nikolai’s notes are pure chaos.
Scattered everywhere—on the fridge, in your shoes, attached to the ceiling somehow.
“What do you mean this isn’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you?”
“If I disappeared tomorrow, would you miss me? Trick question, I already know the answer. (You totally would.)”
“Do you know the magic words? (Hint: it’s ‘please give Nikolai a kiss.’)”
But then—there’s one that’s different.
No jokes. No games.
Just a single note, folded small, hidden in the sleeve of your coat.
“I know I make it hard to tell, but you are the only thing I’ve ever been afraid of losing.”
And for once—Nikolai does not ask you if you found it.
💌 Sigma – I Hope You Find This
Sigma’s notes are careful.
Neatly written, placed somewhere he knows you’ll find them but never where you expect.
Inside your favorite book:
“I noticed you like reading this before bed. Sweet dreams.”
Tucked into your luggage before a long trip:
“If you get anxious, just remember—I’m waiting for you to come back.”
And once—one that makes your breath catch.
A note he must have written long before he had the courage to give it to you, one that somehow ended up between the pages of an old journal:
“I think I love you. I don’t know if I should.”
When you ask him about it, his face flushes, his hands gripping his sleeves.
“You… weren’t supposed to find that one.”
But you’re smiling.
Because you did.
And maybe, deep down, he wanted you to.
💌 Ryunosuke Akutagawa – Words Are Not Easy for Me
Akutagawa does not know how to express himself.
So when you start finding his notes, you’re shocked.
A folded scrap of paper slipped into your bag before a mission:
“Be careful. Don’t be reckless.”
A small card tucked between the pages of a book he gave you:
“I don’t know what you like, so I chose something I thought was good. Let me know if I was wrong.”
A short letter, written in careful, deliberate strokes, as if he spent too long trying to make it perfect.
“I don’t understand why you stay. But I am trying to. I don’t know how to say this in person, but I… care for you. Even if I don’t always show it.”
(That one, you hold onto the longest.)
Because for Akutagawa, love is not spoken.
It is written.
In stiff, uncertain words.
In quiet, careful notes.
In ways he will never say aloud, but hope you understand anyway.
💌 Ranpo Edogawa – If You Need Proof, Here It Is.
Ranpo’s notes are ridiculous.
Written in crayon, scribbled on candy wrappers, left in your pocket when you aren’t looking.
“If you’re reading this, you owe me a snack.”
“I’m a genius, and you love me. What a great combination!”
“I know you miss me right now. Even if I’m in the same room. (Admit it.)”
But then—a different one.
Taped to the corner of your mirror, written more neatly than usual.
“I never write things down when I don’t have to. But sometimes, I like to remind you that you matter to me. Even though you already knew that, didn’t you?”
And when you ask him about it, he just grins, stealing a bite of your snack.
“What, you wanted me to say it in person? Too bad, I already wrote it down.”
But later—when he leans against you, his head resting on your shoulder—
You hear him mutter, “Just so you know… I meant it.”
And that—that is why you keep every single note.
⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙
There’s something so endearing about the little notes left behind—playful scribbles tucked between pages, heartfelt words slipped into coat pockets, a simple “thinking of you” on a post-it by the coffee cup. Love doesn’t always need grand gestures; sometimes, it’s found in ink-stained fingertips and the quiet reassurance of I am here, I love you, I remember you. The smallest acts of love are often the greatest, not because of their size, but because of the thought woven into them—the gentle proof that someone’s heart lingers with you, even when they’re not there. ♡
Hello,
I hope you’re all doing well. 🌿
I need your help to share my family's story and raise awareness about our struggle. Every voice counts, and your support means the world. 🙏
💬 Please reblog my pinned post or, if you're able, consider donating just $5—it could be life-changing for those facing unimaginable hardship.
Your kindness and solidarity make a real difference. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍✨
@abedmajeed
⬆️
Isagi is such a romantic. A good romcom or shoujo manga has him yearning for a love story of his own.
So once you two officially become a couple, he’s beyond excited to be the ideal dream boyfriend. He finally gets to live out his fantasies of being the loving boyfriend who spoils you, surprising you with flowers “just because” or winning you a giant teddy bear by destroying a simple carnival game. He practically skips to the car door to open it for you, holding out his hand for you to hold as you exit the vehicle and walk with him towards the restaurant he made reservations for months in advance. You never go a morning without a sweet good morning text, and never end the day without a sweet good night text. He plans cute dates like picnics in the park or late night walks on the beach, his social media page full of photos of you smiling lovingly back at him.
And while it’s no competition, Isagi wears your praises of best boyfriend ever with pride. His heart flutters with every sweet word and kiss that leaves your lips, making him want to be an even better boyfriend for you.
That being said, in his eyes, the real prize isn’t the title of best boyfriend itself but instead it’s seeing you so happy and loved purely because of him<3
Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍
I hope you're doing well. 🌿
Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻
💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.
Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿
🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫
reblog their pinned post or donate please 🫶