#izana brain rot

[sk3tch404]

"Stop drawing Izana!"

How about NO.

If Izana Kurokawa has fans, I'm one of them.

If Izana Kurokawa has no fans, I'm dead.

[brownskinwaifu]

Think: SUNDRESS MISHAPS

Surely the Izana can contain himself when you give them a warm hug. Nipples so see through and get hard under this boiling weather? Izana thought to himself. He deeply respects you. Enough to steal bits of your intimate clothing and feverishly splash his essence all over them every night. Don’t blame him when you have him feeling all sweaty after you bend over to swiftly dust off your dress. Back so arched up, your cute plump ass just waiting to get slapped and stained with his cum. God you’re so sexy, jus wanna explore the depths of your tight pussy and have your spit collide with mine for more stimulation, fuck you slow speed it up, watching your hands clench onto the sheets begging for more attention, more power, more erratic thrusts and care. Fuck he’s going to shoot blanks by the time he’s done with your minx self. Bet you like seeing me this riled up don’t you. Baby the things you do to me will ruin me one day, how good can you get in bed? Are shy or hungry? You bratty? Whips? Passionate? Fuck I’m going wild jus wanna see that pretty pussy bounce and wrap around me so hard. You wanna squirm on me? Think you can take this dick? Go on lemme see you. Fuck me good and ride me to the brink of overdrive. Damn-

“You think I won’t have you squirting right now fucking minx?” Silence. All that was heard was silence. Well other than life continuing outside of the Range Rover both of you were in and his breathing going fucking mad cause ain’t no way Izana just thought out loud. The split realisation his brain had received was enough to have his already flustered cheeks turn a shade deeper in embarrassment. Ain’t no fuckin way.

“Izana”

“ Uh- fuck yeah?”

“Do my tits look alright? Not sure about this dress I picked out”

Are you fucking serious? Did you not just hear him mutter such filth? And tits? You can’t be serious.

“Iza… what’s wrong? Do I look awful in this dress?” You reached your hand out as always to lock with his without any clue on how misleading this looks. Your hardened nipples, soft fingers grazing his thumb for support and your intoxicating scent makes Izana think you really do this for sport. Torturing him into submission.

“Nah bae you look good, always I promise” took a lot for him to say that. When you look this fuckable. Genuinely complimenting you, he scanned your face but failed cause of those lips. Glossy, plumped cherry scented lips just waiting for his greedy dick to ram your throat. The type to like it rough but looks so put together, he digs that. Or just you.

“Really? I knew that was jus fucking witcha! But thank you! Now there was a cute purse I caught scrolling through my pins..” you rambled and rambled but all Iza heard was “throat me daddy I’ll take it”. God the things you do to him.

[f1yh1gh]

SKDGJDJEHR FUCKING FINALLY HE TURNED UP

ODJDHJSN THAT OFFICIAL PAGE OF HIM IS SO 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

AND HIS VOICE I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE ERENS VA BUT THIS ONE SUITS HIM SO MUCH MORE

BROOOOOO I WANNA SEE KAKU WE ONLY SO THE BACK OF HIS HEAD 😭😭😭😭

IDGAF THO THIS IS ENOUGH TO ROT MY BRAIN

[atarathegreat]

No Nut November Part4

Ft: Kokonoi Hajime, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Izana Kurokawa, Hanma Shuji.

Koko wasn't one to join in on the silly games, preferring to stay on his own tasks and goals. Something about the way you joked with Inui about some stupid month and challenge set him off. You knew better than to flash that pretty smile at anyone who wasn't Koko. So, he decided that he got to cum, ramming his cock as deep as it would go to chase his release while denying yours. "Next time you'll think about freely handing out that smile, hmm?" Kokonoi wiped at the sticky essence he left behind, "Remember who that smile is meant for, darling."

The headboard had been slamming against the wall for hours and your voice had become nothing but a jumbled mess of nonsense that was so quiet Sanzu couldn't hear it. Hearing you was the least of his worries. You had earned orgasm after orgasm, but Sanzu refused to cum, but he battled with wanting to feel your insides. The whole month, you'd been warned, would be spent like this: with Sanzu edging himself every hour and bringing you to absolute brain rot. He'd cum on the first and, gods, he didn't care if you got pregnant.

Since when did girls take part of no nut November? Izana didn't really care as he lazily guided your hips over him. "Iza, I can't..." Normally your whining was annoying to him, but this was cuter than anything. Seeing you try to keep yourself together for the sake of some stupid bet with your friends, while it was a pain for the last week, Izana understood you. doesn't mean he cared. "You know what I want, baby. Let me have it." Izana cooed, reaching down to pinch your clit, "Let me have everything."

During sex, Hanma often sent pictures to Kisaki (that man has been pining for Little Hina since elementary there is no way he has had sex with anyone). His excuse to you was that Kisaki needed a push to get laid, while he would simultaneously be sending a text that said check this out, loser, got her whining my name. He used the excuse of needing to send Kisaki pictures to get balls deep. NNN aside, this man never knows what month it is.

[kissesforsatoru]

imagine a yandere that falls for someone (probably reader), only to realize that the person whom they fell in love with was just a facade used to make people like them more.

brain rotting about this concept 24/7. this obviously isn't an ask, but if you wanted to share your thoughts about it.. I'm not opposed.

there are certainly a few yanderes—mikey, izana, and tora maybe sanzu ??—that can be very delusional. they will easily fall for your facade because it’s so easy for them to believe in something that makes them feel good when all they’ve experienced previously is pain and suffering. you’re like a shining light in their world of utter darkness to them and that makes it easy for them to latch onto you like leeches, feeding on how good you make them feel. it’s almost like an addictive drug the way you make them feel.

to find out that you actually aren’t how they think you are, possibly even the opposite of that, would be absolutely mind shattering for them. they get freaked out because what the fuck do you mean you aren’t who they think you are? they’re in denial for a while. for a very long while because that stacked against all of their trauma is too much for them, they cannot handle something like that at all and if you remind them then they get erratic, aggressive even.

would say these yanderes would absolutely force you into the perfect fantasy version of you just so they can maintain their semblance of stability. they feed their delusions and if you refuse them, like i said they get very set off. you are who they day you are nothing else. you belong to them so they get to decide who you are, not you.

delusional yanderes are very unstable. it’s really best not to mess with them or else it’ll be a hell storm.

[penrose-quinn]

Green Light | Part Eleven

"You look like you're about to drown," you reasoned as if the closeness needed one, straddling your legs on his lap.

Shinichiro hooked a hand behind your knee, uncertain if he's cradling you to him or if you're lifting him up because he felt as if he's already flung himself from the bridge, six feet deep into rushing water, and you're diving down the river to go after him but somehow, nothing was agonizing when your hand brushed the hairs on his arm, then the vein stretched out like a branch on the bone of his wrist.

He mulled over how you could think that you'd only ever destroyed what you touched. His little finger nudged your knuckle a bit and you curled on him like you're making a promise to be careful with his heart.

pairing: shinichiro sano/gn!reader

content tags: they/them pronounces for reader, but ‘their’ is only used once. childhood friends. angst and hurt/comfort. slice of life ft. gangs. idiots to lovers. old friends trying to reconnect but are being dumbasses about it. they don't deserve the friends to lovers tag because they're stupid and pining. the second part of my sad attempt at writing shinichiro’s backstory but he isn’t a [redacted] here. dysfunctional relationship (for shinichiro and izana). underage smoking and mentions of gang violence. non-explicit sexual content at the end (no gendered terms). tokrev manga spoilers.

a/n: this backstory wouldn’t make a lot of sense if you hadn’t read the first part :’) he isn’t a [redacted] here lol, but i’m still tackling on whatever went on between shinichiro and izana (and everyone else). i won’t accept that he missed out on his adult years in this timeline and simply had to suffer on the other. i’m putting the best of what i could make up and write in this version of his backstory so i very much appreciate every like/reblog/comment this receives!  

m.list ❁ read on ao3 ❁ part 12

There was a time you asked him what he wanted to do someday when he was at the peak of attaining everything.

You were still at the edge of eighteen. Still entangled in each other from the riverbank.

Shinichiro felt a nudge from your socked foot against his leg. Your boot was safeguarded close to his armpit for keeping it away from you. His hair was even mussed-up for it, but he couldn’t recall what the both of you were fighting about earlier ago.

You claimed that you were serious and he shrugged because he had the Black Dragons.

“You’re still planning to be in the gang after high school?”

During that time, it didn’t occur to him that you wouldn’t. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Be real. You can’t keep punching guys and meddling in their unresolved issues forever! It’s unsustainable. You’re more than that, Shin.”

You shook your head in disapproval like Takeomi though he would’ve probably enthused him to keep ruling over Tokyo, be the King.

Takeomi basked in their era like a man who found immortality and you just denounced him for letting the shameless power-trip rot his brain. Shinichiro chuckled, even though you accused him of it too. Called them losers.

You told him you wanted to go to college.

Everyone’s expected to, was what he wanted to say because that’s the least thing any good, grateful child should do for all their parents’ hard-earned labor. He hadn’t visited their grave in awhile. Mused over what flowers to bring them while you meandered on how you’re going to get a job, save up a lot of money to have a place of your own: high-rise studio, spacious room, and a balcony with a nice view of the city. 

Shinichiro didn’t appear like he was listening though his lips fondly tilted up throughout because the sun rose with your voice and he never doubted you.

“You will,” he said finally. He knew because you could see the future.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t know what’s gonna happen to you without me.”

You sounded a little vulnerable. Shinichiro attempted to reach for your wrist but his fingers fiddled around the cold button of your cuff sleeve instead. He didn't want to think about what you actually meant, digressing with a remark that you looked good in the gang uniform, and you just rummaged for his pack and lighter in his pocket with a scoff.

He's lying down on the ground, one leg bent to the other and arms behind his head in the lackadaisical manner where he’s looking forward to a weekend of nothing because he hadn’t really crossed that point where he could have a life untethered to where he was now.

The both of you were still covered in wet grass stains till daybreak, and the world moved on.

How could age stack up like bills, pilling high until it left one bankrupt?

Shinichiro used to count how many stitches he had in a bad scar from a fight. Now, he counted his gains and losses over the years. Learned to budget the good left for himself. The best he could do was work. He had to make this work.

S•S MOTORS used to be a small, forgotten building wedged in the bustling landscape of Shibuya.

There’s the skeleton of an exposed ceiling, water stains on the walls, and a smashed window at the backroom. Shinichiro constantly mulled over if this was worth the loans while toiling himself over wet plaster on cracks. He’s starting from scraps again, though he figured he could be the architect of his future from here and he had a vision unveil itself in the ruins of a building, of the aspirations of a new generation.

Kanda went to see him yesterday. He was with the current president of the Black Dragons.

I want to bring back that place where everyone can belong, Shinichiro-san.

A family, a place to belong; Shinichiro reminisced how much he dreamed to build a home.

Company was divided into strays, regulars, and new customers.

Shinichiro still thought of you, walking in here one of these days.

It felt odd when everyone began to come to terms with your absence – his friends didn't have much to say about you anymore but they hoped you're faring well – and then, perhaps without being deliberate, passed his sentiments over to Seishu to the point the boy had probably ceased to guess what kind of presence you would be in his motor shop.

Seishu stayed in longer than he should, this hovel of scattered hopes and broken machine parts though he liked to watch him work in earnest, digging a hand wrist-deep into an engine as if he could find a damaged, beating heart inside.

He never spoke of that aloud, most of the time he didn’t speak at all, though he never had to tell him what happened to his face or how he's used to people seeing the burn scar before him. Shinichiro just saw a lost boy with raw, torn knuckles.

His thoughts went to Izana, and then back to Seishu, if he had somewhere to return.

He’d wander back in here the next morning.

Seishu opened up that he had a childhood friend who was smarter than him.  

It’s a brief, trusting exchange, though what seemed like one of passing felt more momentous than what it was.

Shinichiro grinned, claiming that it's nice they had something in common. Seishu tilted his head at that before perusing the dead husk of a Suzuki Intruder, eyes frosted over in latent thought. He didn't question him about it like how he would on calmer days, sharing about scuffles and stories rekindled over a freely offered soft drink to soothe the bruises.

There's an irony to Wakasa punctuating on how he shouldn't be feeding the kid with too much sugar. Benkei stepped in the room with him, brandishing a paper bag of meat buns. No one hesitated to bring back the old man misunderstanding to get a rise out of the big guy. Crates shifted together, grating against floorboards, unserious threats, more jeering.

Shinichiro sighed expectantly on how his startup business was diving down into a rowdy one.

There were little, amused blips in Seishu's unaffected expression every time.

Shinichiro asked Seishu if he liked motorcycles.

He shrugged, handing him a torque wrench from the set laid beside him. He’s already familiar of the tools and quick on the uptake with a reserved attentiveness that should’ve been pored more on his studies, though he’s at that rebellious age where he felt like he should be elsewhere than losing himself in the monotony of real life.

Shinichiro understood, remembering a time when his youth had been overbearing, not taken seriously, and full of pent-up, adolescent anger.

Seishu didn’t believe he held that kind of rage, and Shinichiro smiled because you’d probably say otherwise.

Even so, he’d tell him that it’s liberating being true to himself in the same breath he kept bringing up that school was a bit better than his motor shop because he didn’t want the kid to screw himself over a lifetime of stinking in gasoline and grueling manual labor in the future. There’s a lot of options for him, just give it a shot.

Shinichiro had gotten better at enthusing that without being intrusive about it. Or at least that’s his assumption when Ken seemed more motivated attending his classes after having a similar conversation some time ago. He wondered if Seishu might get along with him more than Manjiro. His brother was rather selective on his clique of friends and Haruchiyo devoted being by his side till now.

In the end, Seishu chose the path of a delinquent in the Black Dragons.

Perhaps, that’s better than being alone on the beat-up couch in his shop.

Shinichiro wanted to be one with static, to be pointless for a moment, even when no one’s going to come looking for him at 3 a.m.

All the lights were down, spilling in the syncopations of the city and the tired wheeze of his heater, though he turned it off a minute ago because he’s saving up for this month's electric bill. His bones creaked from his neck, oily with sweat and Tiger Balm, but somehow, it felt like his spine splintered in half. He’s already fatigued from figuring his shit out and he’s not even in his forties yet.

Was it weird he couldn’t imagine what you’d look like at twenty? He’d been losing inspiration lately. He didn’t want to dump it on you, though sometimes, he hated thinking of you like that to the point he wished he choked on his beer and let it all fizzle away.

Manjiro called him out for moping. Shinichiro threw back that he’s a brat. His brother recognized your tone in him and the question withered inside his mouth. Benkei and Wakasa only shared a pensive glance after he recounted it at the bar. He's out of the loop between them and they didn't make him feel better for it unlike Takeomi, who slurred out that he wouldn't be so miserable if he just got over you, tactlessly well-intentioned and unafraid of speaking out his mind in all the ways asshole friends did to show they cared.

Benkei excused it as one of his drunken tirades again because they were aware how Takeomi had been spiraling from his life, and although Benkei was looking out for them, the reassurance was painfully needless. Shinichiro could see it in Wakasa's quiet, apologetic gaze.

They formed a gang. Had skipped school to smoke his first joint in the garage, swore that they had each other’s back since the hot blaze of their teenage years. So Shinichiro pondered how long Wakasa had eyes like that, or perhaps he just hadn't noticed them in awhile because he hadn't hung out with everyone as much when time became scarce and life kept getting in the way.

Then his hand clenched into a fist as he reached for his phone. The shape wasn't right and there's a coldness to the cell on his palm. Right, he lost his old one weeks ago. What's your number again? Didn't you change your email a year after you moved?

Regret twinged in his chest when Shinichiro couldn't greet you on your birthday today, reminiscing on waking to your message last August when you asked him what it felt like to finally be an adult, tagged after a found your soulmate yet?

He’s still sad and single. Instead of a retort, you responded back that it's okay when the both of you could just be sad and single together.

It sucked that he couldn't ask how you were though buried at the farthest place of his mind, he wondered if you'd even reply.

Shinichiro wanted to tell you that he fell in love again though the one who already got sick of his heartbreak was Izana.

He wasn’t sure how to confide about their sister having a crush with that attitude. He figured that out when she began to reinvent herself in small, subtle ways: a new hairstyle, a song she never liked or listened to before. There were the long, fawning looks, but they lingered more in the after-school daydreams, tucked like a lock of hair behind the ear for her earring to twinkle and catch someone’s eye.

Nothing’s working to her favor yet. He could tell from the way her fingers played with her hair a lot more nowadays because she'd rather braid her feelings than confess, whoever it was.

A symptom of unrequited love, or at least that’s what he assumed it was for needing to fill the hunger with the shy hope of tying wishes on a bamboo branch on Tanabata. Manjiro would rather drag Ken to the food booths than dress in a summer yukata with her and Shinichiro had to rummage his in the old closet.

It’s patterned with waves but his mother had described how the seigaiha looked more like dragon scales against a sea of stormy, black cotton. It’s the same one with two holes at the bottom hem; the one that riveted a woman with two moles under her lip, meeting in line of a takoyaki stall. Because Manjiro wanted a bit of everything, Shinichiro ordered the one with assorted flavors and she had hers with mozzarella. A greasy smear of it on the corner of her mouth made her smile more charming, remarking how endearing it was that he’d accompany his sister in a yukata.

Shinichiro offered to buy her a candied strawberry for making his brother pull a face once she drizzled a packet of hot sauce all over her food, though really, he’s stalling for time so he could talk to her some more.

Hoshiko took a sweet bite of his sincerity and told him that she’s got all night. They would surprise themselves for having a mutual friend from Gareji Yago. She loved his sense of humor. He blurted out that her laugh sounded like magic, which had his siblings stupidly reenacting the exchange over the dining table for a month.

They swapped numbers anyway. It’s almost like a call for destiny until it wasn’t.

Shinichiro supposed the retrospection might be worth passing along in his letters.

It'd been the only consistent thing between him and Izana when he wasn't allowed to visit and his sentence was further extended for misconduct. He had to ask Benkei the other day what his experience in juvie had been like, and with a dark somberness in his gaze, he never forgot how no one really came out of there being the same person.

Shinichiro would let Izana be who he wanted to be, but he was still his little brother.

There’s nothing in the world that could change that.

Shinichiro was eleven when his father asked him if he’d like to have another sibling.

It was one of those countless nights his father missed out on dinner, though Shinichiro would pull out his food from the fridge and reheat it for him in the microwave. Leftovers always made his mother sad.  

He didn't quite comprehend the implication of his father's words yet, and one day he’d grow to harbor the sorrow, unwantedness, and pained resentment he never had in him, bursting from his fists like all boys did. Conflict had never been forgiving to his mother, but she would end up loving Emma and his father, regardless.

Shinichiro would ask a similar question to Manjiro years later, and a vestige of their mother lifted up his lips, sticky with the red bean paste of his taiyaki. His heart found ease from the sweet acceptance of his smile.

“Yeah, I'll definitely love him.”

Once Izana was out of juvie, they rode to a harbor in Shinisogocho.

He liked the sea best; a kingdom of star-studded waves, city lights. The vastness enthralled him, a kind of true calling to potential.

Shinichiro believed Izana was capable of many things so he filled the boy with dreams that couldn’t be bound in the legacy of a house. Manjiro had birthright, but Izana would always have freedom.

Either way, his siblings were meant to flourish. They’re his pride. That’s all Shinichiro could ever ask for.

There’s so much salt in the air that he lit a cigarette, blowing smoke like the distant beacon of a lighthouse – a warning.

No one ever told him that nicotine shouldn’t be something he was supposed to crave – he didn’t mean to poison you the way he did – though he would to his brother back then and it spared him a few more years until he could flicker one by himself on the same harbor, the same shade of night. Someday, the Black Dragon embroidered on his back.

Manjiro graduated from elementary around the time Izana was released though he remained disinclined to ask anything about Manjiro succeeding him in the gang.

In the silence between them, Shinichiro mentioned their sister instead. “Emma’s doing well. She got into fortune telling pretty recently, can you believe that? I still don’t get what’s all the fuss about horoscopes.” Shinichiro chuckled but it wasn’t shared. His brother almost looked dazed, out of touch. Out of reach.

“Her cooking is way better than mine. Maybe, you should try it sometime . . .”

The murmur of waves, ashes dropping. Izana languished on a long drag of his cigarette.

“Come have dinner with us,” Shinichiro tried.

His plea was lost to Izana, a shiny bottle adrift in the ocean, as he let another second pass and told him no.

By the time midsummer ended, Izana had turned fourteen; jarringly, grown into his limbs, about his shoulder blade’s height now, grown impatient when he made the major life decision to run away from the orphanage, screw the system.

All the risk-taking only brought tremendous frustration on Shinichiro because Izana didn’t even consult him about it. Contended with him on his questionable choices. That he’s secure with his underground connections, that he already managed to get himself a contract to an apartment somewhere within the realm of Black Dragons territory, not too far from the motor shop so he could visit him. Why can’t you just see that I’m taking responsibility for myself when you won’t—

Shinichiro wasn’t sure what kind of face he was making that broke off the conversation there. The silence stagnated further, and Izana must’ve been more shattered over their argument than he was. It left them irreparable for a night.

The first to make amends was Shinichiro, laying down his pride to atone, truly atone, and perhaps, the act was disarming to Izana.

Shinichiro had never seen him so distressed, and Izana believed him when his big brother said that he’s just worried for him, addressing that he’s right because he should’ve done something sooner.

Yet they didn’t live under one roof.

The implicitness of their bond had become complicated with the self-awareness. They still drank their weight on soda while rock songs hovered over them for the nostalgia trip, the ballad of their routine in the late, sun-glazed afternoon. They even liked their curry the same way. Medium spicy, the kind of heat Manjiro wouldn't appreciate in his mouth. There’s an eyeroll to every joke that didn’t land, the sneaking upturn of lips, the silver lining.

Some of his customers greeted Izana when he entered the shop. They didn’t refer to him when they spoke to Shinichiro about his brother. Izana stopped styling his hair up like Shinichiro one day, and everyone would look out for the autumn moon swaying beneath his ears, the sharp, wicked wit.

Shinichiro would gladly tune-up his motorcycle for free, asking him how’s he been doing lately. Izana wouldn’t bring up school or Emma, though he would about the gang and his ambitions for it. Shinichiro nodded to his every word, as if they’re talking about music or their latest excursion. He reminisced of their stroll at Tsukuda Bridge months ago, the river underneath evening-black and murky like the waves in Manila Bay.

There’s always an urge to drown somewhere in those depths, secrets and more secrets.

For the longest time, Shinichiro lacked the awareness that people puzzled over him until you'd say so someday, and in his reflections, being seen by you felt as if he'd been transparent enough.

Though perhaps, it hadn't always been like that because in needing to be closer, Izana fiercely searched for something in Shinichiro, imploring in the way he only knew how, and then return every other day, looking harsher than last time, hurting more than last time. He blamed himself for it too – everything’s wrong ‘cause of me – and Shinichiro wished he didn’t punish himself for existing, gently dressing the wounds with words and antiseptic.

“You’re my little brother. Nothing about you is wrong to me.”     

Izana came to him with the storm on his back.

Shinichiro had never been scared of lightning but he was from the truth in Izana's eyes. He knew the question before it could be asked and he didn't deny it.

Retribution had never felt so fast and unrepentant by his fist. It's all what he's taught him and more, self-defense.

On the ground, his head throbbed and Shinichiro still had a full set of teeth, a rasp to remind him that blood-related or not, nothing will change between us, all right? Izana held back on his punch and Shinichiro wasn't pretending to be tough by staying still for another.

He's just resigned in all the ways guilt could cripple a man, seeing his little brother bleed for the wrong, wretched reasons. It's not your fault, he wanted to say, but to reach out meant ruining him and he couldn't bring him the happiness that could take him away from that hell.

There's a despondence on the bite of Izana’s voice, a wavering, anguished sound.

"I never want to see you again."

Shinichiro thought he saw you.

“What happened to you?”

“. . . I had a fight with my little brother.”

Sympathy made Akemi’s gaze softer when she brought him at her place to tend to his wounds at a tragic time.

Shinichiro wondered if sisters were just always like that. They would glare at you like you were a nuisance but would help you clean up after your mess anyway.

Emma never outgrew it. She did a lot of the housework nowadays and she knew exactly where to find the medical box, hauling it out from the bathroom cupboard under the sink with a sigh. She’s careful with the antiseptic because she knew how it stung and she didn’t understand why boys were the way they were, railing on how useless her brothers were. Can’t even cook their eggs how they want it made, or something like that.

Then he mulled over your sister, the way she swabbed the graze on his chin, and from this proximity, he traced out the part of her hair, her cheekbones, and then so clearly this time, her eyes in both shape and sentiment, how she looked more like you.

Sometimes, it’s staggering how he didn't know Akemi as much as he knew you.

He grew up trying to impress her by balancing himself atop the jungle gym, admiring her as an adult when she was hardly one herself who was just learning how to apply makeup to conceal the deeper insecurities at fifteen, to become more feminine to appeal to guys who weren’t worth all the emotional damage. She still wore mascara, the drugstore kind that clumped around her eyelashes, but he realized the mature lines under them suited her more.

His shoulders ached in understanding, about what it felt like to be heaped with all this responsibility you never asked for.   

Perhaps, there’s a special kinship they could seek out in each other but he felt really stupid for seeing her now.

“I was so busy with everything else that I can’t help but feel like I neglected their feelings, what’s really hurting inside . . .”

Akemi serenely watched her daughter from the window. Keiko was in her yellow raincoat and sneakers, splashing on puddles from her dash to the maid café with a friend, and Akemi reminisced of you and her, muddy with youth and growing pains. Yours was so quiet and violent that it almost scared her. Shinichiro remembered that part too, raw like the scabs on your knuckles; remembered the threats and slurs they called her just to get a rise out of you; remembered most of them where from rival gangs that went against Seisaku.

You told him that all you ever saw was red and he didn't stop you for lashing out to her defense. He even fought alongside you.

Though having witnessed that side of you, Akemi recounted that she wound up yelling that you were acting like your brother. Her regret settled deep in her womb and you felt a little farther from her ever since. It wasn't like the both of you never reconciled and you would even claim now that she was just a teenager at the time.

“Siblings fight for a lot of reasons,” she said, but she also hurt you. Sometimes, she feared she might not have the opportunity to know you anymore because of it. Her eyes wandered wistfully to the window again. “I miss the both of them . . .”

Then she sighed, looking back at him. “I hope it gets better with your little brother.”

Shinichiro didn’t know what to say but it throbbed where it should, burning on his throat with remorse. I hurt him.

Akemi poured his cup again as if to fill in the silence with consolation and a meek hope that it’s never too late to reach out.

"You're not a bad person, Shinichiro-kun."

He drank his tea, tasting of tears.

"I'm a terrible big brother."

Shinichiro said it a second time to himself.

The world was cleansed by the rain, but his memories never absolved him.

He went home late that time, and they would ask him why he's bleeding. He would tell them he's fine and it would be like that for days. Something always festered in his silence.

The moment Izana stopped coming back to the motor shop so did Seishu.

Perhaps, this was what it’s like to mourn for the living.

Learning to cope with the hollowness in him that haunted the spaces of his room, filled with their shadows that had grown farther in the Black Dragons. Most would say the gang changed for the worse, gradually being embroiled in all criminal dealings, drugs and blood money.  An elderly storekeeper was stabbed from the gang's aggressions. He died before he could reach the hospital and it was all over the headlines that morning.

It's enough to provoke Benkei to demand a reason for letting it happen, and while Wakasa had stood between them, he matched his partner more in his solemn, self-contained fury. There's a glimpse of the legendary gang leaders that divided Kanto in half in the confrontation. When it came to legacy, their outrage was justified for sacrificing it all for him. Takeomi watched them until he felt the need to intervene because Shinichiro wasn't as upset as he should.

This wasn't their generation anymore, and the successors after the eighth weren't any better when they carried the inherent spirit of vindictiveness.

One of Manjiro's friends would be a victim to this, and his little brother would ask him one day to put an end to it with Toman, dressed in black and gold as to honor what Shinichiro and his friends had striven to become a long time ago.

Black Dragons had always been meant to be led by his brothers.

Shinichiro contemplated if Izana could make a home from the ashes of another and Manjiro was there to pick at its bones. He just wished he could do more for Seishu, attempting to save a semblance of it in the scarcity. He understood what all of this meant to him and why he couldn't seem to visit when he was in a coma for two weeks. The motor shop was closed far longer and he was concerned if there's a place out there for him.

The last time Shinichiro had heard of him was when he was still struggling in physical therapy. Seishu was recently released from juvie by then, following a different tyrant in the Black Dragons. He wasn't alone in the gang, and Shinichiro supposed with his old friend beside him, they could figure something out of the madness. Perhaps, there was hope if they remained together.

In the midst of things, Shinichiro couldn't really do much, fearing to cause more damage than what's done and living through the rest of it than just staying dead. 

“Do Mikey and Emma know?” you asked, hauling him back to you.

“After the accident in the shop, I told them everything. Figured I should, knowing it could be my last . . . Emma first, then Manjiro.”

Because it'd taken him surgery and a span of years to tell her the truth about Izana.

“It's unfair.” Emma shed a tear that day, crumpling in distress that made him want to scoop her up like she’s four, cooing softly, no, there are no monsters under your bed and your mother didn’t hate you.

He was petrified as she still sat there, hands clutching the skirt of her school uniform like how Izana would onto impossibly good, hopeful things.

"But you're my big brother too," she said before wiping her face and walking out of the room.

Shinichiro would still apologize to her, even though Emma never really stopped visiting him in the hospital with either Manjiro or Grandpa around.

The only time she did by herself was when they had an actual conversation without Manjiro's presence quelling her into a sense of peace and with a hum, recounted that she didn't know how to react when he reached her a bowl of red rice for breakfast weeks ago.

She panicked and got her first period on the day prior so she mistook it as a disgusting joke. Manjiro didn't even snicker. Shinichiro had little understanding on the tradition, expecting she'd be more knowledgeable about it than him, as he regretfully explained this to her. He forgot himself again with the shadow of a slight stubble, lending him a sad, sleazy look. He looked older too, and Emma chuckled softly at the memory. Old enough to be her father . . .

Because apparently parents cooked red rice for their daughters once they hit puberty, attempted to know what napkin to buy for them even if it's the wrong brand, console them from breakouts when they started flaring up like a disease.

It's the sort of stuff Emma had heard from the girls in class complain about because they didn't realize what they had, what she coveted for herself. No one was ever prepared when she came into their lives. She had two mothers but the both of them couldn't stay like her father, whoever he was.

Shinichiro and Emma ended up sniffling their emotions after that.

“Do you want to see Izana?” Shinichiro asked, but he knew.

Emma carried a certain poignance in her gaze. Abandonment could only mature her in such way.

She couldn’t look at him for the answer. Her lip wobbled. “Does he still want to see me?”

"Did you reach out to him?" 

"I want to," Shinichiro said it as if it’d been unheard for a long time, and all he could do was stare passively at tall, decades-old towers within Marunouchi, the road ahead of him, and nothing. "But I’m not sure what’ll happen if I see him again. The last time was . . ."

He hesitated. Opened his mouth and closed it again, feeling exposed all over even when something locked tight in his throat.

The words wouldn’t come out like they should. He hadn’t spoken about this to anyone for two years, but the rift was almost nonexistent. Regret lingered like it’s just yesterday. He worked his jaw some more, and the ache pulsed where Izana hit him.

Shinichiro often dwelt of a different time when things didn't have to be so broken and he would make the right choices. His siblings never had to be separated and they could just be kids lounging around to watch show reruns on the TV than do homework, sharing a childhood of being ordered around and overfed with greasy kushiage by their grandfather. Maybe, they would measure the other's height against the doorframe with a Pilot marker. Shinichiro would have to scold them for vandalizing though he fondly wouldn't remove their scribbled names over the years until they could work with him in the shop or move out to come into their own. It couldn't be perfect because he couldn’t live up to what a parent could offer but he hoped it'd be enough for him provide them a home where they could laugh and love over the table, throw stupid tantrums, weep loud, grow and make mistakes.

But never like the ones he had committed.

"Izana wasn't a mistake." Shinichiro knew this in his heart. "Everything I did was . . . right?"

He waited for you to challenge him. Tell him where he's wrong and amend. There wasn't a time you hadn't because you loved him enough to tell him about himself so he called out your name and you inhaled, slow and pensive, as your hand reached up to fold a strand of hair behind your ear, the other still entwined with his.

“I feel bad for Izana. He doesn't deserve that,” you told him as your thumb traced his open, trembling palm. His ring on you was warm from your skin. “I feel bad for you too. For agonizing about this for so long.”

The inflections of your voice were pained and conflicted, admitting that to him. “Look, I don’t think I could speak for him. I don’t know him, not like you do. But what you did, keeping something important like that, wouldn’t it have hurt less if you just told him earlier?”

“I figured there was probably a right time to tell him, but then things got out of hand so suddenly,” and he hated it so much; how it brought back the memory of his mother on her deathbed, not knowing when things would get better, not knowing where to place all his despair and indignation to the world but in himself. “He’d been through so much, and I didn’t know what to do . . .”

“I wouldn’t know either.” You gave his hand a firm squeeze. “I know you’re just trying to help, Shin. You care about him. I used to proofread your letters, remember? You wrote to him like you grew up with him. I always thought it was sweet, the way you asked about his day and went on about yours, how you welcomed him in it. Emma would know.”

Shinichiro rubbed his eye. He already sounded congested when he spoke up, feeling even more pathetic.

“I kept her from him too.”

“Why did you?”

“It'd hurt her, if she knew her brothers wouldn’t get along.” Emma was too young to undergo through a lot with the changes and losses in her life. “If they fought . . .”

A pause, then a sigh rolled off your lips. “Wouldn’t have made a difference if she couldn’t see him anymore.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I feel like I should. I'm just," he trailed off, head hanging low because his frustration was spilling from his eyes and—

You gently pulled his chin to you. “You don’t have to, not with me,” you reminded him, catching tears before they fell with the pad of your thumb, "all right?"

Shinichiro nodded. There were wet blotches on your cuff sleeve for brushing it under his nose because none of you brought a handkerchief so you figured this would do. A bit of him stained you and you didn't mind.

You told him to breathe, and he realized what he'd been holding inside for awhile before letting it out.

"I . . . I didn't have the best relationship with my big brother either. Held a grudge for so long that I thought I'd die hating him, but it doesn't matter now. Being upset of your ghosts," you drifted for a moment with a murky emotion he couldn't name.

A bus stopped by; the passengers stepping out in worn, clear umbrellas. You couldn't see them, blinking vacantly, as you went on.

"You’re not a terrible big brother. You got to know Izana. You were with him before he even became a delinquent. You never owed him anything. You weren't even blood-related. It would've been better if you didn't lie, but you loved him anyway . . .”

Then you glanced back at him. There’s something poignant about your eyes.

“That was never a lie, wasn’t it?"

“No,” was his answer. But . . .

“Your big brother,” Shinichiro started, “did he ever come back for you?”

“He can’t,” you sighed, falling back on his shoulder. “He died a year ago.”

Somehow, the two of you were in your house.

You told him it wasn't much of a home without your sister or her family.

Shinichiro contemplated how you would’ve lurked deeper into the emptiness for days had he not asked you to stay at his place.

Sleeves rolled up to your forearms, you ran him a hot bath. He threw back that you should go in first. You insisted that he should after hearing him sneeze awhile ago, despite his efforts to muffle it down his elbow.

The both of you remained stubborn and indecisive about it until you proposed that you join him in the tub instead.

Shinichiro had seen you nude before – perhaps not quite enough the first time – and it wasn't like the thought of your bare skin never crossed his mind. It's just that you're always covered-up, swaddled in layers that it's perplexing to him what it's like to look at you naked.

He remembered how you would cage yourself around your arms because you felt too sensitive out in the open. You didn’t like it when your nipples got hard, when the old scars jagged along your body as mementos of survival and belligerent adolescence. He still chanced on stealing a glance at your tattoo; dark and intricate, coiled around your leg like a tether. It's the part of you that remained unchanged.

He hoped for it. The desire was selfish and ruthless and all-consuming that it could be its own dragon.

You weren't one for bold statements though he couldn't help but contemplate how you carried it with you under your suit after all these years. Contemplated how the needle must've hurt, the social repercussions even more so, stung with blood and loyalty, though you were intrepid through and through.

Warmth bloomed in his chest. It wasn't the sweltering heat from the bathwater, but the realization rippling out of him the moment you dipped into the tub, both of your bare legs rubbing underneath, squeezed into a different brand of intimacy: curated perfectly for couples, couples who were at that awkward, fragile verge of discovering each other without breaking apart from their gazes.

"Can you come closer?" he asked. "You look faraway from the other side of the tub."

Then you came to him like a wave. Everything about you washed over him, sudden and all at once.

"You look like you're about to drown," you reasoned as if the closeness needed one, straddling your legs on his lap.

Shinichiro hooked a hand at the back of your knee, uncertain if he's cradling you to him or if you're lifting him up because he felt as if he's already flung himself from the bridge, six feet deep into rushing water, and you're diving down the river to go after him but somehow, nothing was agonizing when your hand brushed the hairs on his arm, then the vein stretched out like a branch on the bone of his wrist.

He mulled over how you could think that you'd only ever destroyed what you touched. His little finger nudged your knuckle a bit and you curled on him like you're making a promise to be careful with his heart.

You glanced at him under your dewy eyelashes, and when he asked if you hated him, you shook your head and leaned forward to embrace, your hair clinging like arteries on his damp chest, as you let him perch on your shoulder, his lips memorizing a freckle.

Shinichiro thought of the tattoo again, wondering if this was what it's like getting himself etched into your skin.

“How could you ask that, Shin?” you whispered back.

“I guess I’m just afraid.”

Despite his insistence to stay, you asked him to just wait for you in your bedroom, assuring him that it wouldn’t take long for you to collect his clothes from the dryer. He didn't turn on the lights and wearily dove into your covers, wet skin soaking through sheets, though he figured he smelled like you anyway as if that's enough to compensate for sprawling himself out naked and defenseless.

You found him like this later, clothes dumped on the dresser, towel discarded, as you climbed on top of him with the kind of languid grace that bordered to a sweet slowburn but he could tell that it's taking so much from you to not fuck him right there.

His hand was on your cheek, outstretched like he's still reaching for the moon, but it's just you and you're too considerate of him, placing a kiss on his palm. You didn't quite realize how much he felt like a beggar in that moment.

“I'll help you, if you let me.”

What he wanted to say was maybe, you should help yourself, then he'd laugh a little when the aggravation would chip away at you and he'd have to kiss it all better, or worse, didn’t matter which. He nodded. He needed you as your bodies met dripping, somewhere in the rain again, and your hair was akin to something like one and all the tangle of wild, disheveled emotions that hid the both of you from the world. 

"Your big sister wouldn't like you smoking in your room."

"You think I care about what she thinks with what I do in my room?"

"Yeah. A lot." Shinichiro peered at you from your pillow.

"That didn't stop us, though," you said after igniting your cigarette with his lighter.

His eyes watched the tendril of smoke lick up your jaw and the curve of your ear, studded with piercings. You forgot to remove them from the bath so he did it for you when he swept back your hair and you craned your head to him, sheets rustling below your bare waists in the shadow of early twilight.

He left the studs atop the dresser, losing relevance to him once he heard his name and you eclipsed everything, coaxing him to lie down on his back with a hand on his chest. Then a gentle stroke from his brow, a gentler coo, "are you feeling better?"  

Shinichiro closed his eyes and let himself drift from the pads of your fingers. The answer wasn't easy to read. He wanted you to ponder over him in circles. He's a lot needier when you granted him a reason to, but yes, he was feeling a bit better. Perhaps, you made him feel more that he'd draw your lips to him and suck the smoke inside your lungs to taint himself with the taste of your melancholia. Nicotine spared none of you from it.

"She's right, you know. Maybe you should stop smoking," he sighed out, a thread of smoke between breaths, his and yours.

"Stop talking about her," and the truth was he'd rather not talk about her at all, slipping his tongue in your mouth for a deeper conversation, one without words or pretense. Or the comfortable lies he’d tell himself to sleep and burn off with a cigarette in the morning.

The smolder of you turned him into a more honest man, even though his affections for you hadn't been a secret.

"I'll only stop when you do," you whispered.

Like that, you ended a conversation in the way you ended a fight.

You rendered him at a loss for words though he wasn't seeking to win and from a languorous stretch of movement, he reached you the ashtray himself. Then he smiled and remembered how it's so garish with the banana patterns on the dish that it stuck out in your room but you didn't mind purchasing it from the 100 Yen shop the other day, even though you didn't like to smoke here alone.

Something in the ashes would glow when extinguished; both of your fingers touching before you stole the ash tray from him and placed it somewhere on the floor, your outstretched arm shivering out goosebumps from the draft.

There's a small trickle from the windowsill puddling on the floor but you'd rather leave it like that than shut off everything again.

It's so quiet it hurts, so you had opened the window like a wound and the world wept.

A childhood framed in a window. The sole one you’d been gazing on for years, confessing that you didn’t really miss this room after you moved in and he wanted to ask you about it but faltered once your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying each other's presence in the cadence of the rain, awake.

It wasn’t a drowsy spell for you like how it was to him. Shinichiro had learned to adapt to the odd, irregular hours you slept, not quite meeting the other in time, even as it stood still the moment you overlapped him, a wave of warm, urging motion, and he was swimming in lazy endorphins as you spread out the comforter over the both of you, feet covered.

You didn't quite feel like a dream, achingly real and open like a door to this domicile that had been the size of your bodies.

Maybe you wouldn't believe him if he promised you that things would stay like this for the rest of your lives.

But he told you anyway, "I love you."

Exposition Corner:    

[1] Tanabata: a Japanese festival celebrated in the summertime as to commemorate the story of the two star-crossed lovers Orihime and Hikoboshi, who are only allowed to meet each other once a year as long as the skies are clear. A popular custom in Tanabata is writing wishes in a piece of colored paper (tanzaku) and hanging them on a bamboo branch.

[2] Segaiha: a wave pattern of layered concentric circles creating arches, symbolic of waves or water representing surges of good luck. It can also signify power and resilience. 

[3] Gareji Yago: this was actually the motor shop were Shinichiro worked at in the original timeline, and what I’m assuming before he got his shop (if Mikey’s accident didn’t happen). In here, I’m using this as the shop that’s owned by Yoneda, his boss/mentor I’ve referenced in the Bright Light series. 

[4] “[…] if Izana could make a home from the ashes of another and Manjiro was there to pick at its bones”: a reference to Kotsuage, a Japanese funeral ritual wherein family members gather around and pick up the bones of a deceased loved one together using special long chopsticks after the body is cremated. 

[5] “Because apparently parents cooked red rice for their daughters once they hit puberty […]”: to clarify, O-Sekihan, or red-colored rice cooked with Azuki beans, is usually prepared and eaten during auspicious occasions like New Year’s day or Coming-of-Age day. Regarding cooking red rice when a girl has her first period, it’s to celebrate puberty and there are some regions in Japan that still do it but serving sekihan isn’t as common for that as it is in festive celebrations.

In the context of the scene, please don’t think the red color of the rice is meant to represent period lol. It’s Emma misunderstanding it as a stupid joke and Shinichiro not being very good at explaining himself and being a bit misinformed (but he did what he did with well-meaning intentions!). 

[6] I love you: So Shinichiro actually said the unspeakable aishiteru [ 愛してる ], not to confuse it with daisuki [ 大好き ] which is more commonly used in confessing one's love (romantically) in Japanese. For my Non-Japanese speakers, this is just my tl;dr of these references [1] and [2] so I’ll try my best summarizing them!

Aishiteru does mean “I love you” but literally, it translates to “[I] am loving [you]”. 

“Loving” is written in the present continuous て-form as to emphasize the ongoing (ever-lasting) state of the feelings. It’s an expression to convey a serious and profound love that is only used in long-term relationships with a spouse and in rare, emotional occasions such as getting married or when someone is on their deathbed. It’s also hardly spoken to each other.

For cultural context, the Japanese are more reserved with their feelings. There are also many ways to express love but most of them are nonverbal. Conveying it isn’t usually spoken but rather acted on. The gist of it being the love for one another is mutually understood through actions and attentiveness without explicitly stating it.

Now with that said, I’ll leave how Shinichiro throwing the hard L-bomb at MC to everyone’s interpretation. (I’d actually love to read all of your thoughts on it if you’d like to share them with me! <3).

a/n: god, I really hope the way I write shinichiro's decisions and emotional trauma makes sense. no, nothing is resolved here. shin and izana (as well as inui) are still in non-speaking terms :’((((

part ten ❁ m.list ❁ part twelve 

[highpri3stess]

Gurlie I have a funny story to tell- so I had a flashback of an Izana x Oc of mine and I was like: wait- I should draw them together again, maybe my Tokyo Revengers phase might resurface. So I tried to find some memes I made in a folder I kept filled with just brain rot of the two cutie pies... ONLY TO FIND OUT AND REMEMBER I DELETED IT.

Imagine my panic when I was trying to find a certain picture for my reference and I actually lost it, then I remembered that I have sent one pic to you- It would have been a good solution, if it weren't for the fact that I have to scroll all over your #moots ♡ tag just to find a more than a year old photo

The photo in question:

AH I have a very vauge memory of this. You were telling me about your au and OC.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

WIP ask game

No one tagged me but I have a bunch of dumb names for my WIPs and it's a crime not to share them

So, rules:

Post the names of the files of your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you asks with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it. If you want, tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Some of these are future chaps, some are fics I have already posted a few chapters for. Your guess is as good as mine for some of these.

Help my brain is rotting/These are MY trials and I am failing (Maribat)

Electric boogaloo (Maribat)

Espresso the Depresso (Maribat)

Projecting onto Tim even more than usual (DC)

What if Mari was aroace in this wouldn't that be funny (Maribat)

Flipflopswipswap (Maribat)

Is this actually even fanfic at this point (Maribat)

Sometimes things don't go as planned :) (TWST)

Fictional gods should always be evil and in this essay I will - (MLB)

All this in wonderland? (Maribat)

If you say depression in a french accent it sounds fancy (Maribat)

Finally caving to the BuzzFeed Unsolved AU (Maribat)

HELLo (TWST)

Fae-ke ass bitch (DC)

Baby baby baby noooooo (TWST)

Plot hard. Shenanigans time........ jk there is also plot (Maribat)

Fantasy aus are my lifeblood (Maribat)

I will not analyze why I have so many stockholm aus (MLB)

Tagging @boldlyanxious and @izanae because they are very beloved.

[angryborzois]

Damn you really got the short end of the stick. Those two sound like their on opposite sides of the spectrum. I will wish you the best of luck. Just need to survive 2 weeks.

ooh Online school for driving, I’ve got to get onto that during the Summer holiday. Don’t be scared, think about all the stupid carpools you and the homies will have.

Gotta get onto KNY. I have to confess that I didn’t finish s2. My brain really heard all the cool animation stuff in the final two episodes and went ‘uhhhh another time’ I need to sit down to fully watch everything. Glad to hear that you’re still rotting over Izana because we ain’t seeing him in a loooong time.

Overall, I’ve been doing alright. Going to wrap up some last few bits before disappearing off the face of the website. Nothing dramatic, just my GCSEs are in two weeks so I’ll have to log off and actually revise. Won’t even be hear until Mid-June 💀💀💀. Will probably figure out how to queue and use that until I come back. Going to mess around for the last time this weekend (my friends + I are going to an escape room I’ve never been in one before) before the dread that is school.

So yeah that’s pretty much it for me. You probably have seen my bday gift saga so I don’t need to go through the embarrassment all over again. Hope you have good afternoon 💫

(P.S now we’ve both overshared so it’s okay now)

Hmm yeah carpools would be fun as long as I don't crash LMFAO

kny was something i felt obligated to watch but honestly getting back to it wasn't as bad as I thought LOL. it's sad how my friend remembered more of the lore than me tho (which is sad considering i used to be a whole encyclopedia about the lore back in the quarantine era)

and as for izana...yeah... won't be seeing him for a while unfortunately 😔 but I'll probably end up rereading the tenjiku arc again so that's that

i'm glad to hear you're doing pretty good. i wish u the best of luck on ur GSCEs; im sure you'll do amazing :D

AN ESCAPE ROOM SOUNDS REALLY COOL I HOPE U HAVE A LOT OF FUN

i would say have a good night but you're definitely asleep rn (as my dumb ass didn't notice the ask right away as usual) so I hope you're having good dreams LOL

[deathfavor]

Anonymous said: Also I've bot really read the manga past season 1 of the anime but you've lowkey gotten me into an izana brain rot.

Now I'm considering reading the manga so I can properly characterise him if I decided to write fanfiction of him (and selfship, hehe 😆)

Boy oh boy are you in for a time! You're so valid for that though. I love Izana. I definitely recommend reading it if you want to look into writing some fanfiction for him since there are a lot of key elements tucked in there with mannerism and tragedy. And good luck to you if you decide to! One day maybe I will write one for him, one day. I say with multiple fanfics in progress and none finished

[softshuji]

I'm back again however not with a rindou video 😞 but rather, a brain rot 😞 or just my personal opinion 🥹😭

like ... i dunno, is it just me 😭 or manila!mikey or racer!mikey is hotter than bonten!mikey 😭 (please do not attack me bonten!mikey likers 😭 but skcsndjsj it's... he's giving. it's giving so much hotness for me 😞 it's enough to have me on my knees sis 😞 that's crazy 😞

anyways that was just me brainrotting 🥲 i still think shinichiro supremacy though *lip bites* SHEESH!

(hmm... the amount of times i come back on here, maybe i should leave an anon icon 🤔 anyway i hope you are having a great day darling baby 🫶)

- 🚬 (there that's my icon now. no I'm not smoking, but shinichiro is 💀)

Hi!!!!! Nice to see you again !!

Hm I'm gonna have to disagree though. Bonten Mikey is my favourite look, I just love love the white hair so much. But bad Toman Mikey is a close second favorite look. Ofc every Mikey is beautiful 🥺

The sano's just have something about them huh? (Izana included cos how could I not include my baby)

Yeaaa I'm having an ok day! I hope you had/ have a good day too anon' kiss! 💕

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

ok so i think everyone in the band au can sing to some???? extent??? but like for some reason i feel like shion isn't allowed to, benkei, mochi, kisaki and koko (most of the time) dont wanna, seishu and hakkai get too embarrassed (esp cuz their older sisters would be recording the whe entire time), and shin isn't allowed to at party bcuz too many people would be moved to tears

but here's some brainrot on people who don't specialise in singing that sing:

akane has the voice of an angel but its very very strong as well. no body knows if she's ever been taught (and seishu won't spill nothing)

sanzu sings back up for kantou manji actually!! he's naturally got a gifted voice and senju curses him for that all the time

izana does some sets during smaller gigs with rokuhara and he's like really good, gorgeous gorgeous voice soothing amazing like chef's kiss

BUT SPEAKING OF AKANE SINGING. i imagine the song my immortal by evanescence (band version) with as her voice and listen listen. the three bands do this lil collab thingy where they all perform at a small club after this huge joint tour between the bands and each song they sing is always mix matched between the instruments and singers (and all the backstage crew is encouraged to join as well) so akane sings this song and yuzuha (i was gonna tell u abt her later on but its getting spilt a bit early hehe) plays the electric violin for this song, senju does back up, micchi does piano AND SEISHU DOES ELECTRIC GUITAR AND DRAKEN DOES DRUMS. imagining this in my head was so fucking fun i love it sm AND BONUS side stage the og black dragons are bawling their eyes out bcuz they love what has sprouted from their band

(another ramble ask, apologies im rotting with my brain!!)

Okayokayokayauxjcjskakc so I love this. I adore the my immortal Collab !!! Sm !!! And yuZUHAAAAAA

I wanna talk a little about the sibs tho bc tell me how Takeomi is so tone deaf with siblings like sanzu and Senju????

I also NEED sanzu and Senju to Collab and duet some stuff roadside by rise against and so long goodbye come to mind. I need sibling duo social media updates and I need akashi sib YouTube channel with pranks and hijinx.

Why do I feel like mucho could be a sub vocalist and rapper

[brownskinwaifu]

Daddy izana and his pretty luscious hair running through your fingers as he eats your cute cunt with passion and ferocity 😍

He’s so hot I actually am creaming right now, he’d treat his partner so right ugh😩

His lean sweaty body is what keeps me going fuck

[everafterkeiji]

im posting this as a reminder i need to finish this asap

[athyathye]

Mission failed successfully

(Shinichiro, Baji and Hanma)

Author's note 📝: Who do you think would be the best wingmen in tr?

Warnings ⚠️: pure fluff! But a tinge of profanities~ as usual lol

➵ How their friends help set them up with you(their crush)

Shinichiro :

❥  Best believe this boy is supported by all 3 of his friends. I’m not even kidding.

❥ Shinichiro had one wish among many desires, and that was to get you, to be his girlfriend.

❥ If the others had to hear one more word about how you smiled at him in the cafeteria during lunch time, they would gladly cut their own ears off.

❥ There should have been a limit to how far they know you, but Shinichiro could never keep his mouth shut. At this point he may very well be considered a stalker with the amount of things he knew about you.

❥ But then again, they didn’t really want to spend another hour of of second-hand embarrassment from watching Shinichiro make a fool out of himself.

There was a limit to denseness, but it seemed like that didn’t apply to you. You walked around the school with no care. Eyes closed with a seemingly permanent smile on your face, anyone could tell why Shinichiro had fallen head over heels for you.

You were friendly with everybody, that deluded other people into thinking you liked them or that they had a chance. Though, whenever they tried to make the first move, shadows would be looming over your pretty face. You never seemed to notice the devilish looks behind your angelic ones.

The 3 stooges all huddled together, watching their leader blush and gush over you at the corner. They seemed to be talking really heatedly as Wakasa held Benkei’s collar after a few exchanged words. Takeomi broke them apart, uttered something about the plan starting.

About to leave school, you stretched and yawned. Not paying any attention to your surroundings. You walked slowly because of the fatigue that had built up, you noticed somebody at the corner of your eye. You examined the figure before realizing it was Shinichiro, the nice guy who always handed you some kind of heart shaped sweets in the morning.

You excitedly walked a little faster to greet him, calling out his name to make him face you as if he hadn’t already been doing that since the moment you laid eyes on him. What you didn’t calculate was the foot that was suddenly placed in front of yours.

Your eyes widened in fear. “Y/n!” You heard somebody cry out, but you had already shut your eyes tightly. Your hands automatically blocked your face from falling onto the ground, but thankfully another person had quicker reflexes.

It seemed like Shinichiro also didn’t expect something so soft to greet him aside from the hard tiles behind him. His hand was on your waist, the other behind your head to keep it from shaking. Your face was squished in his chest and he prayed to every god there was for you to not hear his thundering heartbeat.

“Shinichiro-kun!” Your alarmed voice woke him out of his daydream. The way you looked down on him…

“Eh?! You’re nose is bleeding!!! Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I must be really heavy!”

‘Yeah, this is a good way to die. Izana, you insolent brat, I told you I could get a girlfriend.’

Baji :

❥ (I think I have Baji brain rot-) Ehem, out of these three characters, Baji would have the most luck in actually having useful friends.

❥ One by one, they would fail hilariously at setting you both up. But as a team, there was nothing but success in their eyes.

❥ Since the moment Baji had revealed that he liked you to the group, there was not a single day in which you didn’t see Mikey and Draken friendly waving at you through your classroom. Chifuyu, chatting and talking to you as if you’ve been friends for years. And Mitsuya politely smiling at you whenever you two bump into each other.

❥ It was almost burdensome to have the whole group looking at you from time to time, but none more than your personal hound dog, Baji.

❥ If you thought the others had a close eye on you, think again. Baji would literally cater to your every need, every second of the day. You lost your book? No worries he has an extra *nervously chuckles* You didn’t finish your assignment? You could copy his, he made sure it was right. *Looks away* Your teacher was being too much and kept frustrating you? No worries. That’s it, Don’t worry about it.

The gang was currently out shopping. The boys gazing around as if lost while you and Emma were pointing to pretty dresses on display which caught your attention. Baji was right behind you, listening to every word you guys were saying with his own personal comments in his mind.

‘You’d look better in red’ ‘Your hair smells nice’ One glance at him and you would never be able to tell that was what he was thinking. Inside his mind there was a shrine for you and you only...you and his mom that he loved dearly.

The mall was huge. 5 floors each with their own place to wander, there had to be at least something you wanted to see here. But no, you just tagged along because Emma had urged you to, playing the guilt trip card by telling you she had enough with the testosterone.

Walking towards the elevator, you listened to the way Mikey gushed over smelling his favorite food. Draken telling him to shut up and witnessing Takemitchy trip because of the ever mischievous Chifuyu.

All was well, that was until when you were about to enter the elevator. Fingers gripped the hem of your shirt. You glanced behind you curiously, along with Emma. “The elevator’s full, let’s go to the escalator instead.”

You looked towards where your friends were, each looking at you with just as much curiosity before you spoke.

“No it’s not. There’s still space-”

Emma trudged rushedly as she slipped her hand around Draken’s elbow, dragging him to the elevator where she pretended as if they occupied the whole space.

“It’s full now. Have fun!”

Your eyes travelled to the person you were left with. Him smiling with his canines out he spoke “Let’s go?”

Hanma :

❥ It pains me. It pains me to say it. But K*saki is a good wingman, if not one of the best.

❥ You can’t tell me he doesn’t bribe K*saki to help him get girls. He uses his smarts in all kinds of situations. He’s such an expert on tactics that if you didn’t fall for one, you’d surely fall for the other.

❥ Hanma being not even a pinky’s worth of a decent person, would work K*saki to the bone just to make sure you’d end up with him at the end of the day.

❥ He wasn’t really threatened with the idea of you falling for another, he was confident enough to think that nobody could sweep you off of your feet better than he can.

❥ You wanna know when you should be scared of smart people? When they’re undoubtedly desperate.

K*saki glanced around the room, he was sick and tired of having Hanma whine and keep him awake at night by breaking into his house. He was sick of having to hear about how much Hanma wanted you, he wasn’t even talking about you sexually yet it still disgusted and infuriated him at the same time.

If he had time to moan and groan about how pretty your eyes look when you look up at him, then surely he had enough time to think about a plan on how to get someone like he has. But then he remembered, out of the two, he was the only one with a brain.

From ‘accidentally’ pushing a man to bump into you or even spilling his own drink on you, he’s done it all. All sorts of cute to devious plans all to set you up with his best friend. All to shut the useless trap that belonged to Hanma Shuji.

Of course, the man in question here didn’t let his chances go to waste. Whenever you seemed to be in trouble (Ehem courtesy of K*saki ehem) he was always either one step ahead or out in the corner waiting for his chance to act like prince charming.

“You’re soaked.” He spoke as he threw his jacket over you, covering your head while still successfully covering you from the cold place you both were at. ‘Dang, I look so cool right now’ He hyped himself up, acting as if he was the man desired by every woman in a movie.

“Watch where you’re going, b*stard” he spat at the man who bumped into you after getting shoved by a hooded K*saki. A hand was placed on your waist and shoulder, your back landed on Hanma’s chest. Feeling his thin but toned body caused you to blush.

He did all sorts of things to make you fall for him. But it seemed like it wasn’t that you weren’t able to fall for him.

“...As a friend right?” you replied to Hanma’s offer. Asking you to hang out with him alone to the movies. You could hear K*saki’s eyeglasses break as well as Shuji’s mind go blank.

It was your denseness that he should’ve looked after.

[ultrastarbee]

I recently just watched fast&furious so what about mikey/draken/izana/ran (or other caracters you are comfortable with) with a ahot s/o who is a racer. We live for the adrenalina author-sama♡♡♡♡♡♡

Hey hey! Hello, welcome to our hive and hope you stay with us! You can call me Bee, babe. I personaly love the thrill of adrenaline and if I weren't so depressed I would sure be a storm chaser. Loved this request! Hope you tag along often!

(Also about the thing you said on the another post, I'm now working on a small Draken serie even though I have a Koko serie going on too)

Title: Speed up honey Request: yees Couple: Mikey x racer!reader, Draken x racer!reader, Izana x racer!reader, Ran x racer!reader Category: Content Warning: Word Count: 933 Summary: (Draken's one is a little different) you are his racer s/o, so your boyfriend decides to show you some support A/N: Thanks to you I figured out I love Izana as well. Thanks for the new brain rot

MASTERLIST ....... RULES ....... SERIES LIST

Mikey:

Mikey doesn't understand why the fuck you would drive a car when you could ride a bike like him. You told him the car's bumper is not your face as it would be if you ride a bike. Again your boyfriend doesn't get it. If you are worried about getting hurt it's simple: don't fall.

"Babe, it's not about my skills, it's about others" you give him a long kiss and the crowd cheers. They love you.

Only when the race starts Mikey understands. If you were riding a bike you would have flied away when the first car closed you against the wall. Mikey's eyes can't get away from your car. His heart speeds up everytime your car does. You are so fucking good on it the first place is yours with a big difference from the second racer.

"I still think bikes are way more cool, but you are even cooler" Mikey smiles holding you close to him while you walk to get your money "next race you will take me with you".

"Sure sweetie, whatever you want, but where is my victory kiss?"

Draken:

Draken was invited to be a runner as well, but he said no. He doesn't even own a car, but the races catch his interest once he saw yours. It's pure black with handmade draws in white ink. He isn't used to bet, but he does anyway. He bets some money on your car and gets mocked by the dealer. It seems you are a new racer around there and no one knows your name.

"Nobody bet on me, but it's their loss" you approached him with a smile.

"Your car is sick"

"Thanks. Painted it myself. Name is Y/n"

"Draken" he shakes your hand. Draken didn't knew the runner would be so hot.

"When I win I may paint a dragon on my car as well" and you blink at him before leaving for the race.

Being a new runner you started at the back, but now you are far in front of the other. No one is a match for you. No car gets even close to yours. You love the thrill of the speed. You love racing, that's why you always win. At the end Draken has a lot of money from all the bets against you. You pull him inside your car laughing.

"If you stay there you will die" still laughing at the mad face of the losers you speed up with Draken by your side "come on, let's eat something".

Izana:

Izana knows this is a good place to make some money and have some fun. You are a new pilot, so the bets are agains you, but Izana knows better. He knows how good you are. He saw it before. Izana knows his lover is the best runner there. Actually it's a little game of yours to make easy money for Tenjiku.

"This one is good, can speed up to more than 200 km/h" you are thrilled by the new car Izana got you. You don't ask how anymore, just goes along with his plans.

"You are good" Izana holds your waist and pulls you closer to him. He is bothered by the other runners eyes on you "win for me again, babe".

"As always" you smile and he kisses you.

Not only a kiss, Izana keeps showing you are his by sucking at your neck until it leaves a reddish mark. You laugh. He is always like that when there's someone looking at you. Can you blame him though? Before the race starts you are sure to give him a mark to match your.

It's even unfair with the other contestants. Your car was made to race. Izana made sure to get the best for you today. He trusts your skills, but he will do anything to help you win. And it's not only for the money you two will get, it's also for the special winner treatment he will give to you later. Of course you won and you won just for him. His smile while leaving the race location is more than happy.

Now you two are riding a bike while the car on flames is left behind. No one can now.

Ran:

Ran didn't knew his s/o was a racer, he even mocked you when you invited him to the next race. He was ready to bet against you just to piss you off, but he saw all the other bets on you. Of course now he will not bet agains you when all those people think you can win. He never saw you race before, but he saw you hit an old man with your car once. But Ran is a good boyfriend, so he bets on you anyway.

And thank god he did.

You don't seem to care about the dangerous shunts you are doing to pass the other racers. Ran holds his breath as you do it again at a bend. He will scold you for that later if he remembers. The adrenaline rush on your body makes you don't give a single fuck about the dangerous driving and that's what make you win.

"The fuck you were doing there?" Ran rushes over to you as soon as you stop the car.

"Winning for my braided princess" you smile proudly at him while pulling his braids to bring him closer for a kiss "how do you plan to celebrate my victory?".

"Don't you wanna know?" he laughs taking you on his arms and throwing you over his shoulder.