WAVE - Ive Wallpapers

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

going to a post-match celebratory party with sae and as he's about to leave for a moment to get you two drinks, he sends a particular look over your shoulder.

peering behind, you then throw an incredulous look at your boyfriend, "what? you're assigning me a guard dog now?" you sigh from where you lounge on the couch, gesturing to the man who's strutting over to where you sit with both hands shoved in his pockets.

shidou looks at you right in the eyes and grins lopsidedly, "woof."

“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

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

💌 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. ♡

How bout that new chapter huh

how you can help palestine

*i regularly update this post with any new info i find so please always reblog the original post*

Donations

donations currently reaching gaza:

help buy e-sims for people in gaza (PLEASE HELP CONNECT GAZANS TO THE WORLD. if you would like to stay updated, please follow @/Mirna_elhelbawi on twitter)

donate to get food packages to gaza - care for gaza

support palestinians: buy a keffiyeh from the last and only factory in palestine - hirbawi

donate to ahmed (@/90-ghost on tumblr) (he is born, raised and based in gaza. please help him reach his goal of $25K to get his family to safety across the rafah border into egypt. as of right now… it’s 5K per person to evacuate gaza)

secondary donations:

palestine children's relief fund

palestine red crescent society

save palestine - islamic relief canada

send medical supplies to gaza - palestinian american medical association

click to donate - arab.org

donate for the recovery of hisham awartani - gofundme

one of the three palestinian students shot by a racist in vermont for wearing kufiyas and speaking arabic. hisham’s injuries have left him paralysed from below the chest.

help bring down israel's weapon trade - palaction

NOTE: journalists based in gaza are saying a demand for ceasefire is the priority as not all donations are reaching gazans (focus on the donations that are directly reaching gaza). so please contact your local MPs every single day demanding as such. palestine need a permanent ceasefire.

Petitions

petition to investigate war crimes committed by israeli military

demand ceasefire - amnesty.org

open call for immediate ceasefire

american government call for immediate ceasefire

american government to stop funding israeli military

ceasefire and increase humanitarian assistance - oxfam au

petition to get canva to address their pro-israel stance

invoke the genocide convention to call for ceasefire in gaza - world beyond war

location specific petitions

gaza call for ceasefire - oxfam (UK)

end israeli occupation - parliament uk (UK)

email your MP - medical aid for palestine (UK)

protect gaza civilians - islamic relief (UK)

stop fuelling genocide - action network (USA)

@ biden: call for ceasefire now - move on (USA)

ceasefirenow.com - jewishvoiceofpeace (USA)

call congress and demand a ceasefire - uscpr (USA - they provide a script of what you should say, so don't worry about it)

note: you can call everyday. they tally the number of calls per issue. so more calls = higher chance for them to take action. p.s. you mainly go to voicemail so don’t worry about phone call anxiety. fight through it just this once please.

australia call on israel to stop attacking palestinians - apan (AUS)

immediate ceasefire and increase in humanitarian aid in gaza - actionaid (AUS)

email your MPs - stand with palestine (AUS)

sign to send letter to MP for ceasefire - nccm (CANADA)

ceasefire now! - ijv (CANADA)

ceasefire and allow aid to enter gaza - oxfam (CANADA)

call on your local mayor and council to demand ceasefire - LeadNow (CANADA)

cessez-le-feu et un couloir humanitaire - le mouvement (FRANCE)

écrivez aux député-es et sénateurs-trices - association france palestine solidarité (FRANCE)

write to your député - assemblée nationale (FRANCE)

skydda civilbefolkningen i gaza! - mittskifte (SWEDEN)

singaporeans call for immediate ceasefire (SIN)

contact your elected reps and demand a ceasefire (GERMANY)

write to the EU demanding a ceasefire (EUROPE)

template of letters you can send (EU)

guide on how to contact your MPs in EU

p.s. if the template is outdated, just use it as a guide and add a few sentences here and there that reflect the current situation. i can’t find any recent templates so :/ at least this is something

multiple actions you can take to help palestine - plant een olifbloom (NETHERLANDS)

includes: links for donations, emails to MP, emails to media, links to petitions and demonstrations

den haag, maak nú werk van vrede in israël/Palestina - the right forum (NETHERLANDS)

māori call for palestine - ourActionStation (NZ)

special visa for palestinians in gaza with family in NZ - NZ parliament/pāremata aotearoa (NZ)

deem israeli actions as war crimes - NZ parliament/pāremata aotearoa (NZ)

basta ao genocídio em Gaza! - awaaz (BRAZIL)

globo e grande mídia, parem de desumanizar civis palestinos - the intercept (BRAZIL)

Campaigns

friends of al-aqsa

❥ UK-specific

urge your MP to speak up for palestine

hands off al-aqsa

stop administrative detention

petition for UK to stop arming israel

❥ International

boycott puma — email them to end their partnership with israel

boycott coca-cola

palestine action

join the resistance

islamic relief canada

urge your MP to rally for ceasefire

decolonise palestine

poster campaign to raise awareness on the war crimes being committed against palestinians | (very very important please share + read the sources provided)

text/call campaign for people living in USA

text CEASEFIRE @ 51905 to call for a ceasefire

text RESIST @ 50409 to send a letter to your representatives to pass HR3103–a bill that prohibits tax dollars from going to israel

download 5Calls app to contact members of your congress | (more info)

fax campaign for people in the USA

go on this website to send 5 free faxes per day

here’s a link to a pre-written fax copy you can download to send (the first link on the linktree)

here’s a video that explains how to fax your senator (it’s very easy and all you need is a valid email address)

BDS movement

get involved in boycotting companies associated with israel

please let me know if you have any more links. i will add them in. and please reblog the original post!!

UPCOMING PROTESTS

PALESTINIAN LITERATURE READING LIST

GISELLE (Better Things mv behind)

After LIKE slayed so hard and Rei and Gaeul’s rap slapped no questions asked.

- sullyoon ( nmixx ) lockscreen

— like or reblog if you take it ♡