#nondescript comic

[made-nondescript]

sometimes it's best to not ask too many questions

[civetside]

happy first day of halloween

[originalartblog]

[ the Murase AU ] (part 1)

(part 2/2)

Chuuya leaving after the Dragon's Head Conflict means that he barely (IF he did) had access to the Arahabaki files (post-DHC gift), and never got to see his parents (executive promotion gift). Ranpo is not gonna stand for his detective skills being questioned, and since he was challenged while deducing Chuuya's past...

[synth-spinner]

THEY TOO ARE NOODLES !! YIPPIEE :3

Nondescript spidey brothers :3

He is barely 1 topping tall OK?

They have been sealed peace and love..

[beastalchemistva]

Thank you to @dumbbullet for letting me dub this! Tagging you in the post like you asked!

If you all enjoyed the video, then please leave a like, comment, and subscribe!

[no-light-left-on]

I need to invite void-damned over more often I'm fully done sketching my Thomas comic

[lunatvicluna]

Argh! God, why is it so difficult?

I can’t understand.

I wanted to draw a full-fledged art, but ended up with a lot of little nondescript sketches of Mikey, instead of a full-fledged normal idea. Although I tried to draw a comic about Liora, but as usual, something go wrong…

P.S. I wanted to tag the author of the universe, but I understand that it looks too crap :(

P.P.S. If anything, I'm not asking for compliments or anything like that! It just hurts me to sit all day at the tablet and in the end do not come to the desired result.

[olderthannetfic]

Whenever I see the "there is no F/F content in fandoms, fandoms hate women" discussion on Tumblr, all I can think of is a phrase that is guaranteed to enrage half the Tumblr fandom audience, maybe more: "Have you tried imageboards?".

When I was younger, I used to frequent different anime and cartoon-themed imageboards. Big ones like 4Chan's /a/ and /co/, smaller ones meant for specific fandoms or kinks, non-English ones in my native language, you name it. The users were mostly straight men, and the F/F content and shipping flourished there. The "waifu threads" exclusively dedicated to gushing about female blorbos. The wast majority of kink content involving fictional women, either alone, with a nondescript self-insert man or with each other. The F/F fanart, fanfiction and ideas were just limitless, to the point where you would struggle to find one or two discussions about the guys in the midst of everyone celebrating the women.

The anime, cartoon or comic has a cast full of women? They will all get love. Women and men both? Women will generate much more discussion. One or two women amidst the cast full of men? People will mostly post about the two women, deal with it. Sure, there were designated boards and threads for the male characters, but good luck expecting there to be as much activity as there were in the waifu threads. The fandoms with lots of female characters, such as Touhou Project, thrived on these grounds, and much F/F shipping was had by everyone.

Now, of course, the imageboard culture is an entire separate beast. Right-leaning, edgy, bigoted - basically, what you get if you put a bunch of ostracized and lonely cishet male nerds in an echo chamber and let them feed each other bullshit all day long. A lot of the F/F art they made was sexual in nature, something that could be decried as sexualisation, but, the way I remember it, it was not much different from what is often done to male characters by straight women who ship M/M because they find the two dudes hot. A lot of gushing about waifus by the anonymous 4Chan dudes could be seen as misogynistic, despite the language being practically the same as when a Tumblr fandom girl is describing her blorboman and the things she wants to see done to him.

It all comes down to the the real life influencing the way we interact with fiction: male sexuality is viewed in a different light than female sexuality, despite both being more or less demonized in our society, just in different ways. Men are always predators, women are always victims. When a guy has sexual fantasies about a female character, he is a creep who wants to hurt real life women to enact these fantasies. When a woman has sexual fantasies about male characters, she cannot tell fiction from reality and is at risk of getting hurt by men while trying to enact these fantasies. And if either of them fantasizes about a same-sex couple, they are fetishizing queer people, obviously.

However, that's just how people roll - you cannot change what gender you are attracted to, and people with similar attractions stick together. It just so happens that the fandom side of Tumblr largely consists of straight women and queer men, so you get ships with guys, while the fandom side of 4Chan and the like largely consists of straight men, so you get ships with women. Both sides also happen to have cultures that don't mix well, and someone who frequents one place is likely to avoid the other.

I don't frequent 4Chan anymore, and I'm not big on fandom Tumblr, either, but Tumblr continues to be the unique place where I am more likely to stumble upon erotic fandom content featuring men than women, who are the majorly discussed and shipped characters practically everywhere else. I obviously do not excuse 4Chan's bigotry and rampant hateful bullshit, but my point still stands: if you want to see more F/F shipping and discussions of girl blorbos, but don't feel like making some yourself and creating a like-minded community on Tumblr, you should try your luck elsewhere on the Internet, especially when it comes to anime and cape comic fandoms. Tumblr is a unique place in terms of male-centric fandom content, and honestly, it's not that bad, if Tumblr isn't the only place you find your stuff at. It simply occupies a specific niche and doesn't offer much of everything else (though you can still find it if you look).

--

Now, be fair: plenty of imageboards are full of nominally straight guys who love millions of female blorbos... and art of Link getting wrecked.

[lonelyshrimp-art]

11/20

(ID Under the cut, poem credit to @/prince_rats on twitter)

A five page comic in black white and red, with paper cut-out style text.

Page 1: Goro Akechi framed by the bars of a cage. A crow silhouette cuts overtop of him. His face is featureless save for a wide smile and slightly cocked eyebrows.

The text reads: The Crow laughs at the cat, says "There's nowhere to hide."

Page 2: On the left is the silhouette of Akechi, seen from behind. He is facing a battered Akira Kurusu who is sitting at a nondescript table, head propped in his right hand. The shadows on the wall behind him are reminiscent of blood dripping down. There are bars separating Akechi and Akira.

Text reads: "A shame you have used up your time."

Page 3: Akira facing head on, head propped on his right hand. He smiles in an obvious challenge. Pointed directly at him is a silenced pistol. Overlaid over Akira is an alternating bullseye pattern. The cages bars frame him.

Text reads: Yet the cat still sits calmly

Page 4: Jokers mask laying in a pool of blood, the shadow of the bars running overtop of it. The top right of the mask is shattered, cracks and blood running down the right side

Text reads: For he cannot Die.

Page 5: Akira sits at a nondescript table to the left of the room. He is facing right. towards Akechi. Akechi, from within a bird cage, points his gun at Akira

Text reads: The true shame? The bird knows not how to fly.

[made-nondescript]

dude you are literally king of a daycare don't look so smug

[deuynndoodles]

[id: a digital sketched comic featuring tiny and mask from dey's links meet au and a nondescript bartender.

tiny walks into the bar, the bar counter at his nose, and says, "one glass of milk, please" to the bartender's surprise.

"...no. you're like, ten," they say, confused.

tiny reaches up and sets a "blacksmithing license" upon the bar counter, her face annoyed. the bartender picks it up to see a hyrule-issued smithing license which greatly mimics real life driver's licenses. the age on the license says tiny is 21.

"my apologies," says the bartender, brow furrowed, "one moment."

mask leaps onto a bar stool, wearing romani's mask, and says, "can i get some milk" to which the bartender responds, "oh sure" with a blank smile. tiny turns around, fists balled at his waist, and exclaims "i'm leaving." in all caps. end id]

tiny has such a babyface people don't believe she's allowed to drink. romani's mask pisses her off

[veinsfullofstars]

"Now can we please get on with the meeting already? The monarchy isn't gonna overthrow itself, y'know."

(ID: Kirby series fanart comic, Kintsugi AU, featuring Dark Meta Knight stuck in a mission debriefing, clearly bored and letting his thoughts wander towards a certain rat thief, much to the frustration of his old friend/begrudging henchperson, Mirror Sailor Dee. Transcript below the cut. END ID.)

Me: wants rarepair shenanigans. Also me: wants compelling plotlines. Also me: compromises by making an absurd amount of notes for yet another highly-detailed and overcomplicated AU. Also me: tired of my nonsense.

Started 03/09/24, finished 03/10/24.

---

Transcript:

Panel 1

*A dimly-lit, nondescript room, the plain walls tacked with papers and sticky notes depicting scribbled writing and various images, such as the Dimension Mirror, Dark Matter, the sword Master, a crossed-out headshot of Shadow Dedede, and the symbol for anarchy. DMK sits at a simple table looking off to our left with lidded eyes, leaning his head on one hand, the other tapping idly against the tabletop (SFX: tmp tmp). Three thought bubbles float over his head, each showing a different physical feature of Daroach - his sharp-toothed smile, his long claws, and his big ears respectively. A faint blush can be seen just behind the knight's mask.*

Panel 2

M!Sailor: (from off-screen, depicted as a simplified Waddle Dee head with two slash scars on their right cheek, wearing a white sailor cap with a blue-and-periwinkle ribbon, a blue bill, and two fishing hooks embedded in the top, yelling with their eyes squeezed shut) Hey, scarface! Quit daydreaming about your boyfriend for five seconds and pay attention!

*DMK startles, eyes shrunk to little gold lines, the arm holding up his head slipping out from under him, nearly bumping his chin on the table.*

Panel 3

*DMK turns sharply to our right to point and glare at M!Sailor off-screen, slamming his fist down on the table (SFX: THUD!).*

DMK: (angrily) Hey, shut up, he's not my-

Panel 4

*DMK pauses, his eyes once more shrunk to points, his pointing hand dropping a bit as he realizes what he just said (shown by an ellipses over his head). A tiny bit of blush can be seen through the mask.*

Panel 5

DMK: (glaring and pointing once more, the blush in his face more noticeable, visibly sweating) I mean, I am paying attention!

M!Sailor: (from off-screen, looking unimpressed with half-lidded eyes) Nice cover, Boss. Very convincing.

[ms--lobotomy]

Hi, can I request a Konrad Curze x reader oneshot? I like how you’ve written him so far.

anon im so stupid for curze its not even funny. i love rat men. in my head hes really dumb but also a little shit.

---

summary: curze has no idea how to court someone he finds attractive, lmao

word count: 1184

content warnings: its curze so nearly comical amounts of violence, i feel like im putting a lot of headcanons on him but what even is canon anymore we're all primarch fuckers here, also its kinda toxic because its curze

---

Nostramo was a lightless planet. The only things illuminating the path you tread were manmade lights, harsh and unyielding. It didn't help that it was pouring rain, either. You trod alone, but it was time for the factories of the planet to close, so you were just one face in a sea full of people.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck bristle. This wasn’t an uncommon feeling, things commonly went wrong in the hive city in which you lived. You clutched the bag you were holding, a sad brown thing that carried the remnants of corpse starch and some money and other things you needed to get through work. It smelled awful. 

“Put the bag on the ground,” you heard a voice behind you proclaim. You felt something round and hard at the back of your neck. 

You already knew what to do. Nobody turned around to look at you, the people walking home milled around the two of you. You turned around to see someone wearing nondescript black clothes and bearing a cold iron gun. You put your bag on the ground. “Here you go,” you sighed. He did have a gun, but this wasn’t your first day around town. “There’s maybe two coins in there, if you even care,” you continued. “Enjoy.”

Just before you turned around, while you were thinking about how many factory shifts you would need to replace your dearly departed bag, a dark blur hit your mugger. Your… would be mugger now, because he had just become a cloud of blood and viscera. It would be almost comical if a man weren’t turned to dust before your very eyes. 

Your eyes darted to that… thing that attacked him. It--no, he--was tall, very tall. Maybe twice your height. He had dark, unkempt hair and his sclera was black. The crowd was starting to disperse, taking different directions, but you stood there dumbfounded. And he looked just about as dumbfounded as you did. 

“Um…” you managed to squeak out. “Can I help you?”

He pursed his almost nonexistent lips. “Follow me,” he said, his voice more rumbly than anything you’ve heard come out of a human before. You weren’t even sure if this was a human you were dealing with. While you were busy contemplating whether or not the being in front of you could be considered human, he put a firm hand on your shoulder and started walking. You had to run to keep up, or you felt your shoulder was going to be yanked from your body. His fingers dug into your flesh, almost breaking it open. You saw the crowd part in front of you, the odd person giving you a confused stare before darting away with the rest of the crowd. 

After winding through the streets of the dimly lit city, you found yourself in front of a large, imposing building. Skulls around your size hung on pikes around it, and that had to be human skin carpeting the ground. 

“Your… new quarters,” he said bluntly. 

“Excuse me?” you asked. You had lived in crummy apartments your whole life. Having a whole building, let alone one this large, was an alien concept to you. Not to mention the uncouth decorations. 

He stared, nothing hiding the crazed way in which he looked at you. You looked away to break the intense eye contact. A few moments later, he scanned his hand and led you through the door. The door was the perfect size for him, but the knob was just a little further down than you were tall. 

“Thanks?” you asked as you entered the threshold of the building.

You entered the elevator in the center of the room, and it shot you up to the highest floor of the building. It was as if you could see the entire city from where you were. His hand trailed from your shoulder to your waist. You looked out to around where you came from, there were people milling around again as if nothing had happened there. You looked back up at the man who had brought you here. He was staring at you again with that same crazed look in his eye. 

“Who even are you?” you asked. 

“You don’t know?” he responded. The crazed look became one of genuine confusion. “You haven’t heard of the Night Haunter?” 

“I have no idea who that is,” you responded flatly. “I don’t get out often.”

“Well…” he said, looking away from you for a second. The elevator dinged, you were at the floor you were looking for. His hand left your waist. He turned around to exit, but you could still hear him fine. “You can call me Konrad.” 

He scanned his hand next to the single door, and it swung open. The room that greeted you was nothing short of opulent. Windows opened up a view of the city, and there was a bed big enough for three Konrads nested in one of the corners of the room. Sure, the paintings on the wall were… unsettling, but you’d seen worse. He put a hand on your shoulder again and led you to the window, staring down at the city. You couldn’t escape if you wanted to. 

“Why are you doing all this?” you asked as he knelt down next to you. He was still taller than you. 

He took one of your hands in both of his, clasping his hands around yours. “I…” he started. “Uh… I suppose this is how courting works, correct?” 

Your mouth hung open. Of course this was what he was doing. What other explanation would there be for this behavior? “Absolutely not,” you said after a moment. You couldn’t help it, but the corners of your mouth quirked up. You knew that he could tear you to shreds if he wanted, you could be another part of those skulls and skins at the front of his dwelling if he so chose. But there was something about the gestures that he made that was… charming. 

“We will be sharing a bed anyways,” he said, bringing your hand to his mouth. He ran his lips over it in an almost-kiss, but pulled away. “I imagine you are going to be okay with this arrangement.” 

You felt your face go warm. “I… I guess I can’t refuse, can I?” 

Konrad chuckled. “You are getting it,” he replied. “Now, it is getting late. And you need to go to bed.” 

“I just got off of work,” you protested, but Konrad led you to the bed nonetheless. He practically threw you on the mattress before slumping onto it himself. After hitting a button to turn the lights out, he grabbed you and held onto you. You went limp on the bed. If he said you were going to bed, who were you to argue? 

His breath was warm on your exposed neck, his face nested in the crook of your neck. You ran a curious hand through his unkempt hair. The bed was softer than anything you’d ever experienced. 

You could get used to this.

[resowrites]

Stand By Me - oneshot (request).

Summary: Henry has to step up when the pressures of his fame have serious repercussions for his girlfriend…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, details of anxiety/panic attack, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1507

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Stand By Me - oneshot (request).

"So how long are you guys going to be here? I love your dress by the way… is that silk?" The fan standing in front of her grabbed the billowing fabric and Henry could feel his hand being gripped tight - the signal she gave when she was starting to panic. "Are you heading back to your hotel, cos we could have drinks?" The fan tried to take her by the arm and he immediately yanked her to his side.

"Uh, thanks but there's somewhere we need to be. It was great meeting you, enjoy the convention." Henry then whisked them both in the opposite direction, away from the beach and back towards their car. By then she was staring straight down and breathing hard. "I'm so sorry, darling. I knew we shouldn't have come here without Steve. I'll take us back to the hotel and you can have a lie down before dinner, okay?" But she didn't answer him, her concentration instead seemed fixed on her footsteps. It was a bad sign and Henry could feel a pit open in his stomach. "Darling, can you just nod to tell me you're okay?" Her eyes had glazed over and the grip on his hand was tighter than ever. By the time Henry opened the car door, she was as pale as a ghost.

He felt so guilty. Turning his attendance at San Diego Comic-Con into a mini vacation had seemed like a good idea, a chance for them both to spend some quality time together after he'd been away the last several months filming. But although he'd researched the route beforehand and taken care not to be recognised, four fans had stopped them in the space of twenty minutes and even he was beginning to feel stressed. Henry was sure they wouldn't need their bodyguard, Steve, for a simple trip to the beach, but the place was just too busy for him to move about unseen. He attempted to change the subject. "You know my brother sent me a video of Kal this morning, guess what he was doing?" Henry looked over and found she had her eyes closed. "Darling, are you feeling sick? Do I need to pull over?" A quick flick of her head was all she could do to respond.

It wasn't that she was shy or socially awkward, she just didn't feel safe in crowds of people - especially when they invaded her personal space or grabbed her. Once or twice would have been bearable, and he regretted not leaving before she was pushed past her limit. "Darling I don't want to ask this, but do you feel an attack coming on? I can pull over and help you regulate yourself?" Her eyes were open again but she hadn't blinked in almost a minute. Henry knew that look well - she was dissociating. "Okay baby girl, let's try the five-four-three-two-one technique, yeah?" She breathed in hard but remained silent. He wracked his brain for another idea. "Okay, how about a butterfly hug, then? Cross your hands over your chest, and do eight sets of alternate taps, there's a good girl." But just as Henry turned his gaze back to the road, he saw something ahead of him flash twice. A camera. He swerved and took a back street, leaving the huddle of photographers at the side of the road far behind them. They were clearly there for the convention and may not even have taken their picture, but he was taking no chances.

"What's going on? Henry, what's happening?!" He'd hoped she hadn't noticed the flash, but unfortunately, the quick change in speed and direction gave her another reason to panic.

"Darling take some breaths, we're almost at the hotel, okay?"

"Henry, you're not answering me, what's going on? Is someone chasing us?!" She looked in the rearview mirror and started hyperventilating.

"No, darling! Please don't be scared, nothing's going to happen. I won't let it--"

"Just like you didn't let it back there?!" Her almost breathless response startled Henry, and as soon as he pulled up beside the parking valet, she darted from the car and into the hotel foyer. But he wasn't fast enough to chase her into the lift and when he finally entered their suite, she was nowhere to be found. Henry called out her name three times, tried ringing her twice, and then resorted to phoning the front desk to see if she had actually checked out and gone elsewhere. But all they could confirm was that she'd arrived just before him. Henry sighed and placed the phone back into the receiver. A terrifying thought then entered his head and he dashed onto the balcony, hoping against hope that he wouldn't find her there.

Henry breathed a sigh of relief when he slid back the doors and found the space out there empty. But where had she gone? Surely she wouldn't leave without coming back to their suite first? He crossed into their bedroom, hoping to get changed before he went out to look for her, and noticed what he thought was a noise coming from their ensuite. Tentatively, he pushed back the door. "Oh, darling…" There she lay, curled up in a ball next to the bath, sobbing. Henry planned his next movements carefully. Firstly, he turned off the bathroom light, leaving the room bathed in the glow from the hallway. Next, he plucked a towel from the rail above him and placed it carefully over her body.

When her cries became less desperate, Henry laid down beside her and gently ran his hand up and down her back. He kept his voice soft and low. "There we are, you're doing so good for me, sweetheart. Shushhh, breathe. Gently, darling, gently." Eventually, her body stopped shaking and she staggered to sit up. Henry smiled, hopeful she was through the worst of it. "How are you feeling now, darling?" She looked down at her hands uncomfortably. "It's alright, I'm right here. You're safe now." Something flashed across her eyes.

"And where were you when your fans were pulling me from pillar to post? That was really scary, Henry…" Her voice caught in her throat and he felt a lump in his.

"I'm so sorry, darling. You have every right to be angry--"

"I'm not angry, I'm terrified! I had no idea who those people were or what they were going to do to me--"

"You're right, and it's totally my fault, I should have taken us straight back to the car after the first encounter. I didn't think the promenade would be that busy at this time of day…" Henry's voice trailed off once he realised how badly he'd let her down. "I'm so, so sorry. I should have done more--" she gave a soft sigh and placed her hands on the arms he'd wrapped around her waist.

"You do a lot--"

"But not on this occasion. God I can't believe I was so stupid, I should have got you out of there--"

"It's fine. If anything I've failed you. If I was stronger, I'd be able to cope better--"

"What are you talking about? You have every right to feel upset. And you cope fantastically--"

"Clearly not or I wouldn't fall apart like this! We can't carry on like this, Henry. You need someone who can properly support you. All I am is a burden--"

"Stop right there." Henry hopped to his feet and quickly pulled her up with him. "Now you listen to me, you never have been and never will be a burden--"

"So what do you call crying in a heap?!"

"But it's my fault! No one should be cornering you in the street, putting their hands on you, or asking questions. It's my job to keep that part of my life separate and I need to do a better job from now on." She gazed into his pale blue eyes and shook her head.

"And what if it's not enough? What if this lifestyle just isn't me?" Henry smiled at her sadly.

"Well, it's hardly me, either. But that's why we're so good for each other, darling. We're each other's safe space. I don't ever want you to think how you react under stress is wrong or too much--"

"But it is!"

"Well, not to me because you're everything to me! And you have my word, I won't ever put you in that situation again." He then turned to the sink and ran a hand towel under the tap. "Here, let me put this on your wrists--"

"Why? What will that do?"

"Well, for one it's a good distraction. It also forces your neurotransmitters to refocus. Let me get you some ice to chew as well--" Henry turned to head into the bedroom but she pulled him back.

"… Thank you. Not just for this, but for everything you do--"

"You'll never need to thank me, darling. Ever. I promised to protect you for the rest of my life and it's a promise I intend to keep."

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo

[wttcsms]

10:57pm +++ Mr rin itoshi !!!

— 10:57 pm

when you peer through the peephole of your apartment's door, you don't expect to be transported directly back to the past.

but there he is, looking more familiar to your memories than you would like him to. messier hair, maybe, and a slouch that's a bit unbecoming of him, but it's him. no amount of time could help you forget about him; you could recognize his shadow in a dark room.

rin itoshi is banging on your apartment door. it's almost eleven at night, and you know that he prefers an earlier bedtime than most, but he's not in bed. he's right here. at your doorstep.

and it shouldn't make your stomach do that excited churn that always happens when rin acknowledges you. it's the same excited feeling that you got early on in your relationship with him; you felt it every time you saw his name pop up on your notifications, and every time he took your hand into his on those first few dates. the exhilarating rush of being wanted — but most importantly, being wanted by someone who you want, too.

you're only opening the door so he doesn't end up being mocked on everyone's twitter feeds in the morning. that's the excuse you use, anyway. chances are, no one is ever going to know that professional football star, rin itoshi, ended up at some nondescript apartment complex after a celebratory night out. however, it's easier to say that than to admit that you're always going to jump at the chance to let rin in.

when you open the door to allow your ex(?) (can he even be an ex if the two of you were never truly a couple?) in, you don't expect him to point an accusatory, albeit shaky, finger at you and boldly ask you,

"why are you ghosting me?"

it's too late at night and you're too tired to keep your guard up, so you just gape at him, mouth open, eyebrows raised in an almost cartoon-like, comical shocked way. you have your hair bunched up around your head haphazardly and your designated pajama tee has an ice cream stain on it and you've got your loosest pants on. you might regret not playing it cool when you look back on this interaction in the future, but the fact of the matter is, you lost all opportunity at nonchalance the moment you unlocked your door.

everything else that is embarrassing is just the icing on this trainwreck of a cake.

only rin itoshi, you suppose, is the right combination of bold, drunken idiot, and just socially inept enough to confront the ghoster about behind ghosted. because who in their right mind asks that?

everyone knows that the minute you get ghosted, you have to either move on or pretend to. you hop to the next person who is going to be your fixation for the month and the topic of your groupchat's conversations, and you pretend that you don't hope every notification that appears on your screen is him texting you (and you also must pretend that the sick waves of disappointment when it turns out it isn't him aren't absolutely soul-crushing). you don't make a big deal out of deleting his contact (even though you have never saved any other situationship's number in your phone before), and you're just so fucking unbothered that you even went out of your way to blacklist any articles or tweets that contain his name, his team, or even his jersey number.

"nobody asks that question." you tell him, instead of answering him. "nobody with some self-respect and social awareness, at least."

it's a jab at him, but rin doesn't seem to care. that's the thing about rin — he's really good at that. either not caring or pretending not to care, you're not so certain. you just know that the impassive expression on his face hurts all the same.

"i'm drunk." he says, and before you can give him a yeah, i can tell, he's continuing. "and i miss you."

"maybe you miss me because you're drunk. if you wake up tomorrow feeling the same way, maybe we can talk."

you're trying to put your foot down and maintain a strong image, but you know yourself too well to be fooled by your own lies. there's no maybe about it. he could wake up and hate your guts tomorrow, and you'd still want him to tell you it because it at least means he's speaking to you.

"i wake up missing you all the time. does that count?"

your mom told you once that men are like food — anything that looks that good cannot be good for your health. and looking at rin, all lean limbs and long lashes; high cheekbones and that pretty boy pout, is absolutely detrimental to your wellbeing. you should kick him out and slam the door and put a chair underneath the locked doorknob for good measure, but your heart sings with that drunken confession of his, and you know you're a goner.

"don't joke around like that." but there's no conviction in your voice, just a sort of desperate longing that changes the meaning of your words to please don't say those sort of things if you don't mean it.

"is that why you're ignoring me? because you think i was joking about everything?"

"i didn't— i wasn't— ugh. you ghosted me first!" admitting it out loud somehow brings back all the hurt from when it actually happened. maybe that's why you had enough sense to never admit it, but rin itoshi does something to you. he makes your brain shut down. all sense of self-preservation evaporates when he's in your vicinity.

confusion flickers across his face. his stupidly cute face with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid strands of hair that hang in his face no matter how many times he aggressively pushes it back. your heart breaks with every second of silence that passes by, and then hope that it can be pieced back together again appears when he looks at you, all sincere seriousness and more soberingly alert than he's looked all night, as he asks,

"i did?"

[keniaku]

[first id: a comic with gojo satoru, and kenjaku in geto suguru's body. gojo is wearing strawberry earrings.

kenjaku, walking in to the prison realm through some sort of meaty door: rise and shine, six eyes! i have exciting news!

gojo, sitting up from his bed of skeletons: (in sarcastic/mocking excitement) whoa!

gojo, pointing his finger up, grin wide: (in the same tone) wait, let me guess! it's been a thousand years and you're personally inviting me to your new world like a real gentleman. or did suguru's bitcoin investment finally came through--

kenjaku: im selling you to the US president

gojo, suddenly drawn in a poorer style from sheer shock: eh?

kenjaku, off screen: i gotta pay for my bills somehow

second id: a scribble of gojo desperately banging his hands against the walls of the prison realm. there are bones and skeletons in the background, as well as sans undertale. the text over him says "[top text] NO I DON'T WANNA BE / [bottom text] CRACKER POWER SUPPLY AAAAAA"

third id: a scribble of kenjaku in geto's body. they're posing smugly on a nondescript seat. there's a globe behind their head, and the text under them says "ms. worldwide" /end id]

big boy 200