Im Literally Seconds Apart From Ending My Shit But Haitani Motherfucking Rindou's Back Is Sucking Me

im literally seconds apart from ending my shit but haitani motherfucking rindou's back is sucking me in again

TOKYO REVENGERS ALTERNATIVE COVERS

these inside covers (alternative covers) just hit differently... and i love it when the characters in it come in pairs! INUPI and KOKO's cover tho pLS :')) THE HAITANI BROTHERS' TATTOOS!!!?!?!?!?!!! and i love how most of these covers are their younger selves.

btw i already saw them before, i just want to share my favorites and my random thoughts about them :)))) and if you want to see the rest, just click on the source ty <3

oh my god😭 oh jesus😭

a young man in pictures - kazutora x reader

for @mommysano​

cw: artist!kazutora is a simp. that’s it. that’s the tweet. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen Kazutora’s room.

It’s cliched to say it’s not what you expected, but it really isn’t. Kazutora is gentle to you always, but there’s a bit of wildness in his eyes, in the large tattoo that adorns his neck and in the locks of his hair. 

So you don’t expect it. 

There’s something calming about being in his bedroom. It’s much cleaner than you anticipated and there’s organized clutter in the corners, of brushes, paints, pens and inks. A well-loved plant (or dying, maybe you’re optimistic) sits on the windowsill and is exposed to sunlight. The beige tones of his wall and the soft brown of his curtains somehow offset the hideous leopard duvet on his bedspread. 

There’s a candle burning, one that smells like maple and fragrant wood, and you’re shocked that he’s the type of man who burns candles.

You spend a moment to take it all in and you can feel Kazutora’s hesitancy, as though he’s waiting for an assessment. He’s almost holding his breath. 

You smile.

“Did you clean up for me?”

He laughs and the tension breaks.

“Yes and no.”

There are two scrolls on the wall that are well spaced and murmur something about perseverance despite adversity and learning how to forgive oneself. When he sees you focus on them, reading the script carefully, he tries desperately to avert your attention as though he’s embarrassed.

“Did you write those yourself?” You ask.

He stammers very slightly before nodding yes instead. 

“Your handwriting is so beautiful,” you compliment him, letting your fingertips graze the soft fabric. You wonder if he chose it himself. 

There’s something about being in this space that makes you fall a little bit more in love with him. 

You still haven’t sat down and he tries to direct you to the chair at his desk - the bed would be too suggestive. You smile to yourself because you aren’t children, and yet he is as awkward as a teenage boy interacting with a girl for the very first time.

And then you see it. 

There’s a large sketchbook closed on top of his desk with two pencils atop it. Your eyes are immediately drawn to it and so are your hands. 

You glance at him for permission, of course. An artist’s sketchbook bears more of their soul than anything else - you know this very well from your own younger sister whose creative passion has only ameliorated your life. 

“Can I?”

He nods. 

You take a seat finally and leaf through the pages carefully, making note of every single line and splash of color. The drawings are of places and of people, portraits and scenes, and every person is drawn with such exquisite detail and connection to their environment that before he even tells you that they’re pictures of people he loves, you already know.

You move to his bed and he sits beside you, as you curl up, turning page after page. He tells you about everyone in his life, some you’ve already met like Chifuyu and Baji, his parents (the feelings towards which are muddled and complicated), and many others. It’s a fun experience, especially when he gives you a little story about each person.

Even though you are still getting to know him, he’s turning into an old friend.

And then you find yourself. 

There’s a small gasp that leaves your throat the first time.

The people he loves,  you think. 

There are more of you, at the park, smiling, thinking, and there’s one of you and him, where you hold hands like you are starting to do now, sitting side by side, your head on his shoulder.

Maybe he’s a prophet. Or maybe he’s willed you two as you are now into existence. 

Either way, he’s put your relationship to paper.

And art imitates life.

tysmmm do the tag @inupibaldspot <333

step on me

You're who I wanted to be in middle school when I grew up. You exude confidence and I just KNOW your sex appeal is off the charts. Whether you dress up or dress down, you look great and I envy that. You may have a bit of a temper and you can come off as cold when people first meet you but my god are you one of the most loyal friends someone could have. I know you'd fight the people who wronged me and I am so attracted to that. Make sure you're not shutting people out. Protecting yourself is important and those walls you've built up are sturdy but let a select few people help you carry the load and I promise you'll feel lighter. Anyway, if you're single and like girls give me a call.

idk how to feel about thissss, but it was fun ;)

not pressure tags: @nozomiasl @kallikrein @saturnmitsuya

Vibe check but oddly specific by oink

Keep reading

mood

YOO THE NEW CHAPTER IS OUT

i just read it

how is people so talented like this mannnnn

this is perfect😭😭😭

Hi! So I think a couple days ago I sent you an ask about Baji getting a tattoo about his s/o or sum

BUT, why am I seeing artist Kazutora working like day and night on a special piece and it's like a super pretty mural / painting of his s/o and he worked so hard on it

warnings| love confessions.

notes| WHEN? WHEN DID YOU SEND ME THIS? WHENWHEN *RATTLES CAGE* why is tumblr fucking with me! i have no recollection of ever receiving an ask like that!! send me ‘baji getting a tattoo for his s/o’ in a separate ask lemme write that! Unedited: read at your own risk!

"Is this what you've been working on instead of taking appointments?"

Mikey doesn't look it but the surprise in his tone is evident. Baji stands to his left and Chifuyu to his right wearing matching expressions of awe as Kazutora flits around the room cleaning up after himself.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Do you like it?”

“Kazu this is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my fucking life,” Chifuyu admits, blinking incredulously at him. “I can’t believe you want to spend the rest of your life tattooing people when you could be painting them.”

Baji is speechless. He glances between the giant canvas and Kazutora who appears mostly nonchalant about the masterpiece he’s created. His mouth opening and closing like a fish as he struggles to find the right words to say.

Kazutora straightens, scoffing at Chifuyu. “Sure.”

“I agree with him,” Mikey says, and the silence that follows unnerves even Baji who locks eyes with Chifuyu over Mikey’s head.

“Uh- thanks Mikey,” Kazutora clears his throat and Chifuyu almost laughs when he rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“Is that your girl?” Mikey asks, taking a step deeper into the room. Baji and Chifuyu move closer to each other, eyeing their friends apprehensively.  Kazutora nods, propping himself against his work table as Mikey inspects the painting. He looks ridiculous standing next to the big thing but so did Kazutora. Mikey hums. “And you did this in three days?”

Baji and Chifuyu eye each other. 

“Yup,” Kazutora’s boot begins to tap on the floor. 

“It’ stunning, Kazu.” Mikey’s grin catches them all off guard. Baji releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Chifuyu wipes an invisible line of sweat from his forehead.

“Yeah?” Kazutora smiles. “Think she’ll like it?”

“I’m gonna be honest with you Kazu, I always knew you could paint but this?” Baji gestures to the canvas. “This is something else entirely.”

Baji has a few of Kazutora’s paintings hanging around his apartment, even one of him and Kaori when she was learning to walk. Those were beautiful, it was obvious he’d taken great care when doing them. 

This one? This was breathtaking. The colours were vibrant, alive. It screamed love. It shouted the happiness you bring to his life in every colour, and line, in every bold stroke. It made Baji’s heart pound the longer he took in the careful way Kazutora crafted you out of thousands of tiny flowers. It was only from the shoulders up but it was big enough that Baji couldn’t believe Kazutora had only done it in three days. 

“She’ll love it,” Mikey shrugs. 

“I love it,” Chifuyu frowns. “A lot. If she doesn’t want it, can I-”

Baji silences Chifuyu with an elbow to his gut. “Ignore him. She’ll love it Kazu.

The last time Kazutora blindfolded you, you’d ended up in a pool fully clothed, but he’d also licked stray droplets of water from your skin, and listen, the powers that be blessed you with a man with a tongue ring. You will never complain about being licked, ever, even if it’s in public. But, you’re still torn about the current blindfold. 

“There aren’t any pools around right?”

Kazutora laughs. “There are no large bodies of water around.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “And you won’t let me go right? At all?”

You can feel his eyes on you. “No, I won’t let you go. Not ever.”

You get the feeling he’s answering more than just the question you’ve asked. It gives you butterflies. “Are we almost there? You’re making me nervous.”

He lifts your joined hands and kisses the inside of your wrist gingerly. “Five more minutes.”

Five minutes feels longer when you’re anxious somehow. By the time Kazutora parks Baji’s SUV you’re fidgeting in your seat. He rounds the car and helps you out before guiding you into the building. It’s a restaurant you realize when he gives his name to the hostess. You’re lead into a back room you assume. And when the door closes behind you Kazutora moves his hand from your back but doesn’t release the other.

“Before I take the blindfold off I have a confession,” he says. There’s something in his voice that raises your hackles. A slight tremor that has you squeezing his hand tightly. 

“Kaz-”

“It’s nothing bad,” he reassures you. “I’m just fucking nervous, holy shit.”

You can’t help it you laugh. “Is it that serious?”

Kazutora brushes the back of his hand across your cheek, cupping it gently. He leaves a soft kiss to your mouth and when he pulls away he whispers. “I’m in love with you.”

The words stun you. Your mouth opens and closes dumbly. You wish you could see him. “Take the blindfold off, Kazutora.”

“Not yet,” he clears his throat, backing you into a chair and helping you sit. “This is new to me,” he continues. “The last time I fell in love it was with Kaori and that’s entirely different from this. Sometimes I look at you and I cannot believe you’re mine.”

He sighs and you want to rip the fucking blindfold off.

“When I- when I went to prison,” he starts. You still. “I didn’t think I’d make it out, much less to find a job, and a family waiting for me so, I owe Mikey and Baji everything. They’ve stuck by me even when I had a shitty attitude and very uh-” he takes a deep breath “very manic tendencies. They’ve seen me through some shit that I am not proud of and- and you know that and you’re still here.”

Emotions clogs your throat. You have no idea where he’s going with this but you can already feel that he’s going to make you cry.

“You never ask for anything from me, you’re so patient with me, and honest, and attentive and- I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I know that I’m in love with you,” he breathes, and he’s so close, both hands are cupping your face now. “I am so in love with you, and I am going to do everything in my power to make myself worthy of you. To make sure you don’t leave me. So, I’m making a promise to you, today.”

He reaches around your head to untie the blindfold, chuckling when you immediately try to dab at your damp eyes. You blink, your eyes adjusting to the bright light in the room.

You glance behind him at a massive painting. It’s beautiful. It’s a portrait of a woman made of thousands of flowers. You turn back to him and he lifts a brow at you, gesturing to the painting with his head.

“You don’t recognize her?”

Your brows furrow. “Should—”

You turn to the painting again. Taking in the woman’s features. Her hair and skin. Her eyes and mouth. Your lips part in surprise. It’s you. The petals from each flower overlap so that your skin looks heavily textured. And one of your eyes is covered entirely by a large hibiscus blossom, your lips are parted and it looks, from this angle, like you’re looking down at whoever is looking at the painting. It’s- you can’t speak as you stand. The way Kazutora has painted you leaves you breathless. You look like a goddess. When you reach back for him you realize you’re shaking.

“It’s- that’s me,” you say shakily. “You- you painted me?”

His signature is barely visible in the bottom right of the painting but his style is unique enough that you know it’s his work immediately. Your heart is thundering, your mind spinning because the painting is huge. You wonder when he had the time to paint something this size.

“Do you like it?”

Your expression is incredulous, the tears should have been the first sign that you loved it. Sometimes Kazutora is so blind to his own talent that it makes you angry.

“It’s beautiful, Kazutora,” you blink rapidly, trying to combat the flood of tears rolling your eyes again. “I love you.”

“Good,” he replies, simply. “My promise is to worship and love you. To treat you like at any moment you can realize you are too good for me.”

Your only response is to throw yourself at him, he’s prepared and you can only hiccup as he tries to soothe your crying.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he points out. “Tears don’t inspire confidence in most men.”

“Shut up,” you huff. “These are happy tears. Where the fuck are we supposed to put that thing? It’s huge Kazutora!”

He motions to the room. “This is mine,” he scratches his head. “I know the owners of the restaurant. The painting can stay here for as long as we like.”

“You’re going to explain that to me eventually,” you say. “How long did that take you?”

“Three days.”

“And did you eat, sleep or shower in that time?”

“Uhm—”

You interrupt him with a soft kiss. “I love you so much,” you frown. “And I appreciate this painting way more than I can put into words, but we’ll get to that later. However, I would really, really appreciate it if you took care of yourself too.”

Kazutora flushes and you can only giggle. “Right, yeah, understandable.”

“Good boy.” You glance at the painting once more, still unable to comprehend how Kazutora can make you look that good. “Is that really how you see me?”

“You mean like a goddess?” he questions as he leads you to a small dining table off to one side. “Pretty much.”

“All the time?” You press.

He stares at you silently for a second. “Yes, angel, all the time.”

You frown. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“Just thinking about you makes me hard,” he shrugs as he turns rings the small bell on the table. “I promise the way I see you is the least of your worries. What I think about when I think of you should be your concern.

“Oh,” your eyes widen. “Do share?”

“I’ll show you later,” he says offhandedly. “I want to recommend the pasta. It’s delicious.”

You blink at him, a small smile on your face as he waits innocently for the waitress to come take your order.

You love him so much you think you might hate him a little.

Baji 🤝 Chifuyu = Keeping the peace when Mikey finds out Kazutora has been locking himself in his studio to paint instead of running the tattoo shop like he should be.

Junji Ito x Odio 首吊り気球 (The Hanging Balloons)  c o l o r f u l from the collected stories (Shiver)