Geto And Megumi Make Practically The Same Absolutely Gut Wrenchingly Bittersweet Face Because Of Gojo’s

🍉 🍉

Hello from the heart of suffering, I hope you are doing well I hope you can help me spread my suffering with repeated displacement we are froced to live with I'm tired, talking to you and I can barely write, but I really need your help! Please talk about us, reblog my pinned blog, and donate if you can🙏🏻 Thanks 🌹

• Our campaign is vetted by 🇵🇸 @/gazavetters List at #291

• DONATE HERE / OUR PIN POST HERE

🍉

Imagine sskk win against Amenogozen but then it turns out Fyodor has just been hanging back scribbling fanfiction about how actually he won on the page while they were distracted

Coping theory: Akutagawa does remember who Atsushi is, however upon seeing him crying and begging at Fyodor's feet he decided to say "Who the hell are you?" because his weretiger doesn't know when to quit and will keep fighting no matter what.

Therefor, when Atsushi inevitably joins the fight to help Akutagawa, he's going to look over at him and say "There you are, weretiger."

insta bios!

✶ . ࣪ ׅ 04 ' 🪐

☆ “we were born to die”☆

— @honeymoon ਏਓ

222 | 🎧🥥💭

october, infp ★

★ ! 𝟿𝟽 · jjk

— 🎧 !! 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛

𝓙

— 11:11 | 2007

♡ · scorpio

naturally introverted, selectively extroverd

̊ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ̊

november | infp - 17

📿🕯️💌📖🗝️

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

౨ৎ'🌙 .

the tattoo on my ring finger

—★! 07 liner

౨ৎ @txt_bighit

(🪜) ᰔᩚ give me a memory i can use ・．｡ﾟ

— ౨ৎ : 🫀🎧

💭🎧🫧 | 6teen

—★in the dark times, let kindness be the light.

🚨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:👇👇 👇

gofundme.com

Donate to Join Us in Our Struggle: Save Our Family from War in Gaza, organized by Ghazal Naseer

‎‏Dear friends, ‎‏My name is Ghazal Naseer, from pales… Ghazal Naseer needs your support for Join Us in Our Struggle: Save Our Famil

—————————————————————————

✅️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

——————————————————————————

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.

IM CRYING HELP

lmao this is what i was talking about

♥️🌹🍓🍎🍒

“𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐯𝐬. 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡”

a/n: a lil suggestive, i've just been in the mood

isagi was supposed to be watching the game.

his teammates were scrambling across the field, calling out plays, their cleats slicing through the damp grass with precision. the crowd’s roar swelled with every near-goal, and the commentators’ voices crackled over the loudspeakers, analyzing every move.

but isagi didn’t hear any of it.

not really.

because you, his girlfriend, were sitting in the stands, wearing shorts. 

god help him. 

he was already distracted when he caught sight of you before the match started. he spotted you through the mass of faces, and for a second, he forgot how to breathe. but then you sat down, crossed your legs, and his brain might as well have short-circuited. 

now, mid-game, his eyes kept wandering. every time he glanced toward the stands, there you were, all casual and relaxed, completely unaware of the absolute chokehold you had him in. the way your thighs pressed together, soft and golden in the sun, had him gripping his shorts a little too tightly. his mind was already halfway out of the match, imagining his hands gripping you instead. 

“oi, focus,” one of his teammates barked when he nearly missed a pass. 

right. the game. the reason he was here. 

he cursed under his breath and forced himself to lock in. he sprinted down the field, evading two defenders, and when his teammate sent the ball sailing toward him, he struck it into the back of the net with a clean, merciless finish. 

the crowd exploded. his teammates crowded around him, shouting and shoving his head playfully. isagi gave the standard nod, offered a half-smirk, and jogged back into formation. 

but then his eyes were back on you. 

he caught the way you clapped for him, that bright smile lighting up your face. you cheered for him like he was the only player on the field. your excitement was so sweet, so pure. 

but the problem was, when you jumped a little in celebration, the flesh of your thighs shook ever so slightly. 

his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. 

oh he was done for. 

𐙚 

after the match, you waited for him outside the stadium. you waved when you saw him, and he was on you in seconds. arms around your waist, hands gripping your hips like he didn’t want to let go. his forehead rested against yours for a moment, catching his breath, but it wasn’t from the game. 

“good game, starboy,” you teased, brushing his damp hair out of his eyes. 

“mhm,” he muttered, but he wasn’t paying attention. his hands were already trailing down your sides, thumbs grazing the curve of your thighs. the skin was warm beneath his calloused fingers, and his grip automatically tightened. 

“yoi?” you blinked at him, puzzled by the sudden shift in his demeanor. 

his fingers dragged lightly along the hem of your shorts, skimming just underneath, his touch featherlight but possessive. 

“you’re messing with me,” he muttered against your temple. his voice was low, almost frustrated. 

“huh?” you laughed softly, tilting your head to meet his eyes, but they were dark. glazed over with something that made your stomach flip. 

“these,” he grunted, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, “are driving me insane.” 

you blinked once, twice. and then it hit you. you glanced down at your shorts, then back up at him, watching the way he practically glared at your legs like they had personally wronged him. 

“oh my gosh,” you whispered, laughing. “you were staring the whole time?” 

he didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. if anything, he scowled harder, like it was your fault. 

“do you have any idea how distracting you are?” he asked, his voice low and slightly hoarse. he was still wearing his jersey, sweat dampening the collar. he was exhausted, but his hands stayed firm on you, as if the second he let go, you’d slip right through his fingers.

“it’s just my legs, yoi,” you teased, grinning.

his fingers flexed. “don’t.”

“don’t what?”

his eyes dragged slowly down your body, deliberately tracing the outline of your thighs. his gaze was heavy, heated, like he was memorizing every inch.

“don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” 

𐙚 

later that night, when you were tangled up on the couch, he pulled you into his lap and made no effort to be subtle about his obsession. his hands traced the backs of your thighs with a slow, deliberate reverence, his fingertips kneading softly into your skin. when he leaned down and pressed his lips against them, you squirmed slightly, but he only held you tighter.  

“stop moving,” he muttered against your skin. “let me have this.” 

he was starved. 

kisses pressed to the softest parts of your thighs, his teeth grazing just barely. he was mesmerized by how easily he could mark you, the way his lips left faint imprints like fleeting little bruises. you could feel the smile against your skin when you shivered slightly. 

“so sensitive,” he murmured.

his fingers were slow, teasing, brushing over your thighs like he wanted to make sure he felt every inch of them. he loved how your skin dimpled under his grip, loved how warm and soft you were against his hands. and when you gave him a small, halfhearted shove, your voice barely above a whisper –

“yoi, you’re obsessed.”

he smirked against your skin.

“yeah,” he admitted without hesitation. his lips brushed your inner thigh, voice muffled against you.

“and i’m not even sorry.”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n: inspired by this pinterest pin lol

blue lock hcs to make you smile!!!😊

- ness helps stray cats that he finds on the streets. he knows that cats are often a symbol of witches and magic, hence why he’s so fond of them.

- rin has a huge sweet tooth, and had lots of trouble reducing his sugar intake for a healthier and more athletic body. he still secretly eats candy sometimes.

- isagi is canonically very shy and tends to distance himself from people, so he often gets too scared to confess to his crushes, and they always end up dating someone else.

- the reason why ness knows how to cut hair is because he believed in those folktales and myths about needing to cut hair on certain days. his parents didn’t and refused to cut his hair for him, and he ended up having to learn to cut it himself.

- rin gets flustered when pictures are taken of him. his house is full of pictures of sae because he is the more favored, more successful sibling, so there are only one or two pictures of rin in the entire house.

- rin is actually very sensitive and has a hard time taking insults. this is because sae has always complimented him and told him about how good rin was. this is also why sae’s insults to him hurt especially.

- when kunigami’s sisters learned that kunigami would be returning to blue lock, they were ecstatic. but when they saw their older brother on the TV acting so differently, they both cried out of fear that he didn’t love them anymore.