#genichirou sanada

[thepasteldyke]

If you're not careful you're gonna get smacked, boys... This was my first time drawing any of these characters in so many years.

Gotta thank @incorrectpot for the inspiration for this one.

[simonblackquill]

sanazuka nation where the hell u at im dying over here

[questionartbox]

(sanada's internal voice) YUKIMURA... art tumblr | art twt | everything-twt

[horoteni]

big 3

[uraurayama]

はまったころに描いた真幸です～

[hetamyuist]

i wanted to hold off on posting this until i finished doing the oshigaku + niouyagyuu + shiraishi and chitose ones but i was busy for the past few weeks and it's not changing anytime soon sooooo. barbie yukimura and ken sanada inspired by a conversation i had with @inmyarmswrappedin <3

**I was supposed to put "he's just Gen" for sanada since he's Gen-ichiro and then i realized ken ogasawara is literally named Ken lol

[h-y-dontatme]

My two favorite handsome tennis boys Shirashi and Sanada.

Somehow I fell back into tenipuri nostalgia and binged all of the U17 episodes I missed. The new stuff maaayyybe isn’t my favorite, but it was a good time.

[otaku-republic]

<Article> 【Coupling Column】 Vol.62 Rikkai

[trio-of-all-time]

ULTIMATE TRIO BRACKET: MATCH #20

[almaadst]

Commission for my sweet @kittifer (❁´◡`❁) Sanda from Prince of Tennis and her self-insert ♡ POV from the window to show contrast in temperature was a cool challenge! Also, I tried to use a different, thinner lineart brush and I think it looks better now ^^ Other: Commission info Kara and Revan Kuvira and Sayi

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT MY or OWNER PERMISSION

[princeoftennis-scenarios]

How's it going! I'd like to request a match up because I saw a mutual ask for one and it was noice. I'm a INTP, 5'10" Capricorn. I love listening to music, cats and videogames. Love your blog btw, so glad you are back ♥️

Hi hi! We are glad you liked it so much you wanted to try it out too! It is always fun to write these and seeing them be appreciated!

For your match, it has to be Sanada!

It would take a while before he admitted his feelings to himself and then to you. He would confess via a beautifully written letter and invite you to meet with him.You would meet up in a cafe, one he’d pick because you expressed how much you liked it previously. Although he wouldn’t seem like it, deep down, he’d be nervous if you’d even show up. Once you do, he’d be smitten by you and try his best to seem calm and collected as always. To others it might not be obvious he is acting a bit different, but you could see the slight blush here and there, as well as the corners of his lips tilting upwards as you talked.

As a date, he would organise an outing to a cat cafe, just for you. There, he’d take plenty of pictures, mostly of you with cats and would put one as a background on his phone. Seeing your smile every time he opened his phone would be highlights of his day. He’d be very thoughtful and cater to your interests, but once you show interest in things he enjoys, he’d passionately explain everything about it and teach you about it.

Concerning video games, he isn’t the one who is big on them, but would love to watch you play as you explain the lore behind it all. He’d try to play coop games with you, especially loving farming ones. Just don’t make him play fps games or ones where he is versus one or multiple people, it would frustrate him how badly he’d do at them. One other thing he’d love would be putting on music and reading a book while you do your own thing, simply sharing space with him is enough to make him happy. 

Your other matches: Tanegashima, Shishido

[simonblackquill]

What's Left of You 1.2k | Major Character Death | ao3 link Tags: Death from Old Age, Old Married Couple, Growing Old Together Tezuka Kunimitsu reflects on the passing of his husband, Sanada Genichirou.

-

There was something poignant about the fact that all Sanada had left behind was his family rock, the very one that he used to carry everywhere with him when he had a bag that permitted it.

Well, that wasn’t true—Tezuka was also here.

The heirloom’s presence usually meant that its owner was nearby, but now its very existence marked the gaping absence that sat heavy like a bottomless pit. On second thought, that wasn’t quite right. A pit would imply the pull of gravity, the rush of wind and movement if one were falling through it. All Tezuka felt when he looked at the rock sitting atop the nondescript dresser was...stillness. Like a mountain with no breeze rustling the leaves, no birdsong, no fish, no rushing water. Even if a black hole were to suddenly open up before him, its pull would have no effect.

Tezuka remembered holding Genichirou’s hand in his last days, not in a hospital, but in their bedroom. He was not as strong as he once was—neither of them were, and it would have been foolish for them to expect otherwise—but he was not frail by any means. He never had been. Including in their seniority, Genichirou had always retained the advantage his physical build had over his husband. Even with their aged fingers lightly linked together in the shadow of the dimming dusk light, Tezuka could feel a comfortable firmness returning his touch. It was a far cry from the nervous stiffness that locked around his hands the night Genichirou bit his tongue trying to ask Kunimitsu if he would marry him.

One of the things that did remain the same all these years, though, was the roughness of Genichirou’s palms. Tezuka felt it every time they held hands in the candlelight of an anniversary dinner or the starlight of one of their many camping trips, and even as his heart was leaping out of his chest as Genichirou slid the silver band onto his left ring finger. He liked those hands and every one of its callouses, and the slight scar that never faded between the left thumb and forefinger, etched by the younger and more inexperienced swordsman that once was. They were signs of hard work, and what could be more admirable and beautiful than dedication and devotion?

Tezuka held that firmness with all its marks and bumps in his hands until the day where all that was left was the roughness. It can’t have been too long since. He remembered it like it was yesterday, but the thin film of dust that had gathered on the rock told a different story—the story of Kunimitsu asking the rest of the Sanada family if the rock should be passed down to Sasuke, everyone agreeing that no, he should keep it, and it not having moved from the dresser since.

Tezuka didn’t feel quite right having it in their—his home. Heirlooms needed heirs, and here, there were none.

“Maybe we could adopt a little boy... Or a little girl, doesn’t matter,” Genichirou suggested one faraway night, twirling an empty sake bottle in one hand and stroking his husband’s hair with the other.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kunimitsu agreed with a sleepy murmur as he reached across for the empty bottle, giving up halfway and instead letting his arm flop across Genichirou’s chest.

Maybe things would be different if they had thought to interrogate the question again, once the alcohol had worn off. Then, there might have been a more suitable successor, perhaps even two generations of them. The question did cross Tezuka’s mind a few times after that, but it never did pass his lips. What was the rush? They could think about it later. They had so many other things to do, and they were so young. Even when the wrinkles started to emerge in the corners of their eyes, even when it stopped mattering how worn the grip tape on Tezuka’s racket was or how taut the strings were, it was still: what was the rush?

One day, when he looked in the mirror, he realized that it was probably not fit for him to tell himself that anymore. Rather than feeling confronted by a stark, dreadful truth, however, Tezuka was at peace with it. It was simply how things were. Back then, as he stood above the sink and combed through the memories he and Genichirou had built together, he still felt as if he had all the time in the world to create even more, the way the imagination wanders for a sequel after a particularly good book.

Maybe it would have been wise to consider children earlier, but you could be excused for making unwise decisions when you were young, couldn’t you? And every moment he spent with Genichirou, he felt so young, like they could do anything, go anywhere together under the sky in its infinite blue. Tezuka had, at the very least, enjoyed contemplating the possibilities—if they had a child, or children, what would they be like? Would they have a penchant for all things adorable, like Genichirou? Would they enjoy fishing, like Kunimitsu? Would they be interested in tennis like both fathers, or would they have their own new interests that they could teach to their parents?

Kunimitsu had never been one to daydream or fantasize, but to him, this was more like planning, mapping out the endless chain of paths that their lives could take. The world was so big, and even as small as they were, they had enough love to fill all its four corners, so it was only sensible to chart their routes. If anyone said it was daydreaming, well...things seldom stayed the same in the world, just as how things were wont to do in love.

But where would these transformations be without their constants? Storms made way for rainbows. Butterflies emerged from chrysalides. Waves would always nip at your feet, no matter how determined you were to jump over every one of them. When he was younger, Kunimitsu always believed that whatever the future held in store for them, he and Genichirou would face them from each beside each other. Looking back, he was right. Genichirou had always been his constant, even when his age meant that tennis couldn’t be that for him anymore.

Even if, in some other kind of life, he were a mountaineering photographer, a competitive fisherman, author, maybe even a regular office worker like his father was, he knew in his heart that Genichirou would be there with him, setting up camp, cutting newspaper clippings of competitions, reading over drafts, or just heating up a microwave meal for him. And if by some chance Genichirou had become a kendo instructor, shogi player, calligrapher, or police chief, Kunimitsu would have been equally happy to help close up the dojo, save magazines with his interviews, attend his exhibitions, and help him prepare for his press conferences.

Kunimitsu didn’t know what was waiting for him when it, too, was his time to go. Although he didn’t subscribe to any particular religious belief, who was he to deny the possibility of being met with pearly gates? The prospect of rebirth? Maybe Genichirou would be waiting for him in the heavens. Maybe Kunimitsu would have to try and find his way back to his partner in a new life. Or maybe there was nothing. For all he knew, there could be no trace of Genichirou left in the stars. But if they only had one life each to spend, Tezuka was glad he had the chance to give it to Sanada.

Now, where was that feather duster?

[aqvarius]

sanada/yanagi doubles pair always makes me laugh cause it’s two of the top three rikkai emperors pairing up against you in doubles, both of whom can spank kirihara individually without letting him score a single point. like even if your doubles pair could multiply (rather than add together) your strengths, you’re still facing two lv.1000 players lol. and it’s not even like they’re random singles players that don’t know how to play combinations either bc they’re regularly paired in lineups. but also rikkai has a whole number of great doubles players and options that are maybe not as sure of a win in singles but the fact that they just can casually throw 2/3 of their strongest players into doubles just shows their depth i guess  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[oneesanmarket]

Prince of Tennis: Genichiro Sanada -  Mini Shikishi 

Size: 120mm x 135mm x 2mm

Price: 8€/13 USD

(Shipping price Not included)

Units Available:1

(Send us a message or comment if you’re interested)

[uraurayama]

しれっと距離近いといいな～