#I Idolize You

[loyal-logik]

I analyse you Never dare criticise you Hanging off every word that you bleat Fantasise about you Never dare trivialise you Hanging off every word that you bleat

[rastronomicals]

3:54 AM EDT August 28, 2024:

Boss Hog - "I Idolize You" From the album Boss Hog (October 10, 1995)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Pussy Galore spinoff bands

--

[mari-lair]

Flower for you!

After enough loops, the party can explore the town before Siffrin wakes up

[nonomives]

I did something

[kensatou]

j… jesus oppa ;____;

[finnbin]

Ford has gotten too used to talking to himself and not at all used to other people being around to hear it

Bonus:

[eriksangel666]

New podcast episode is up!  This week, we pay tribute to the Acid Queen of Rock and Roll, Tina Turner

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

given cass's canonical love of reality tv, I am absolutely certain that every year babs has to go into cbs's recruitment email and delete her survivor audition video

[schizodesires]

Your older brother keeps going "just one more hit, how about another, what are you a pussy? oh look at me i can't smoke a bowl, what a loser" until you get so high you don't know where you are or how you got there or why your dear brother is on top of you with all of his weight, why he's thrusting into your limp body and telling you how good you feel, how wonderful of a fucktoy you are, how good of a job you're doing not fighting back, bragging about how many times he's came inside..uh..what were you thinking of again? what's happening?

[turtleblogatlast]

AU where Leo is trapped in the Prison Dimension for months instead of minutes and the only way he gets by with his sanity intact is through recording himself talking to his wrist comm.

When they finally manage to get Leo back and make him rest up to heal, Donnie can’t help but listen to the recordings left behind.

He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, only that his subconscious is screaming at him that it has to be heartbreaking, that it has to be torturous.

Instead, what Donnie is subject to is a full thousand hours’ worth of Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu crossover fanfiction. More than one part in the series. Spanning well over a million words.

(The worst part is that it’s actually good.)

[havenandart]

if you perchance wanted to draw jay n dick just hangin out. i would have no choice but to love and appreciate you forever

"watch your mouth, little wing."

just thought about dick being a good big bro to jaybin before everything falls apart. ruined my own life for a moment

[hrokkall]

Body, mind, soul

[egophiliac]

swipes everything else off of the table to yell about diasomnia flower bookmarks

(I gave Silver one too :D)

[tyonfs]

considering this is an nct blog, i feel obligated to voice my stance regarding the news from sm today. to put it simply: i will always be on the victim's side. fuck taeil. i wish nothing but the worst for him and hope his victims are able to find peace

[lurkinginnernarrator]

Okay, I had a really cute idea, now okay, we know Shen Yuan was rich and all that pre-transmigration. And that he had two elder brothers and a younger sister. And that the older brothers managed the family business (can't remember if that's canon or fanon but it's true in this situation)

BUT. WHAT IF. the family business was an idol agency. Shen-dage is the CEO, Shen-erge is like the manager, he wrangles the backstage crews and label, and Shen-mei is of course, the star idol because of course.

Now I can't decide if Shen Yuan would be an idol alongside Shen-mei, or like a creative director.

We know Shen Yuan is a god-level poser, so he'd do GREAT at either (not to mention he's not stupid, or incapable, it's just in canon his denial skills are maxed out)

The media would love them.

There are dozens of compilations of 'Shen-mei and Shen Yuan being chaotic siblings for 17 minutes straight' and "top ten times Shen Yuan entered protective brother mode"

"Shen-mei cries ON STAGE and Shen Yuan comforts her!!!"

Let's not talk about the edits. Or the fanfiction. Or some of the signs that people bring to concerts. Or the fancalls.

Now imagine, they finish a global tour and all the Shens are bullied into taking time off by their staff. Shen Yuan, with nothing to do, decides to do something completely frivolous because 'who says I can't relax?? Take that!' and so he starts reading a novel.

The novel.

Twenty days later and Shen Yuan has sent more hate than all of his anti-fans combined. He has used words even his most inspired fanfiction writers would blush at.

And he dies and all that, yadda yaddah ya.

ANYWAY, imagine the fluff and the shenanigans. Both post and pre-transmigration

Airplane-bro starts humming a song and Shen Yuan's muscle memory possesses him.

Shang Qinghua: Cucumber-bro you must've been a diehard Shen-mei stan!!! That choreo was perfect

Or, OR that's how they both realize they're transmigrators.

(Airplane: 'i dont remember writing Shen-mei into pidw??? And why does Shen Qingqiu know the choreo??? Wu Yanzi what were you teaching him???)

Pre-transmigration Shen Yuan helping his little sister with recording harmonies and backup vocals.

And the outfits?. Need I say more?

[haeryna]

thinking about idol!gojo and rockstar!geto (tw: mentions of underage drinking, implied abandonment, implied homophobia from gojo's parents, vague mentions of illness)

how you three, along with shoko, lived in the same ratty small town in the middle of nowhere. you'd moved when you were six, all shy and scared of the house your parents had moved to in order to help your sick grandmother that you barely remembered because the last time you'd seen her was when you were four. you were from the city; you'd never seen fireflies, or grass that stretched out as far as your eyes could see, and so when you saw the first firefly appear just as the sky turned to dusk, how were you supposed to resist it?

so you chased it down to the creek, all smiles and filled with excitement, until you realized it was dark, and you were in the forest, and you were scared. you couldn't help but start to cry, and that's where geto found you.

"are you lost?"

sniffling, you peered up at the dark haired boy, whose soft brown eyes filled with a sort of concern. "y-yeah," you hiccupped, and geto offers up a gentle smile. "it's okay, i know the way back."

and so, you'd taken his hand, let him tug you out of the creek bed, and lead you back toward the house that still didn't quite feel like home. you'd learn, his name was suguru. suguru geto, and wherever suguru geto was, satoru gojo was never too far behind (although you didn't know that, yet).

"you crying?"

you'd let out a startled yelp, still clinging to suguru's hand, twisting to look at the other boy who was staring at you with unrestrained curiosity. even at the age of six, you found him beautiful, with the piercing blue of his eyes, and the soft white down of his hair, even as he mocked you. satoru hadn't known how else to express the sort of silent jealousy that had torn its way through his chest once he saw you holding suguru's hand.

the two of you bickered, all the way back until they left you at your front door, much to suguru's displeasure. yet satoru was beaming; nobody but suguru and shoko dared to speak to him that way. he was too young to understand the way his heart seemed to churn every moment he saw you after .

later, you would meet shoko ieiri, who instantly took a liking to you, defending you with the stubbornness of an older sister you never had.

later, you would realize just how beautiful suguru and satoru were, as they grew. you were the one who pierced suguru's ears (a decision made at 1am in his basement), who bought satoru his first eyeshadow palette (his parents would have died if they'd ever see him use it). and it was eventually you who brought them into music, as you stared up at the ceiling of suguru's basement. the lights grew hazy as you blinked up at them, empty bottles of stolen beer surround you. suguru and shoko were busy smoking a pack of (also stolen) cigarettes, and satoru was on his phone.

"what if we like. made a band?"

you were only 16, and dreamed of leaving the small town you'd moved to. the temporary stay had turned permanent after your grandmother had inevitably passed. shoko immediately snorted. "i love you, but i can't sing for shit."

but you were persistent. you thrifted an old guitar that you gave to suguru as a birthday present, encouraged satoru's angelic singing.

you should have known they would outgrow you.

you're 21 now, still living in the old house, taking care of your parents. the dreams you'd had years ago turned into ash in your mouth. even shoko had left, off to pursue medical school.

you can't stomach looking at the news anymore. satoru has broken into the idol industry, creating equal amounts of chart toppers and scandals. an idol like that only comes once every one hundred years, they say. with the way he moves, the way he acts, you're inclined to believe it.

(when you watch him for the first time, on some variety show, you see him, see the way they've done his makeup, and you're brought back to sitting on the couch, telling him to stop moving or he'll mess up the eyeshadow you attempting to apply. you wonder if his parents were furious at the decision. you wonder where the eyeshadow palette you gave him went. did he take it with him before he left for good? bile rises heavy in your throat, and you shut off the television, unable to stomach it any longer.)

the radio is equally as traitorous. you know suguru has been dominating the indie charts, to the point where it's simply suguru and satoru competing against each other. you hate how whenever you go to the local bakery, you can hear his voice again playing through the speakers. hate how when you make the long drive to pick up your parents' medicine, how you can hear him through your car's speakers. it feels intimate in a way that you cannot bear.

(still, you hear the guitar and remember the look in his eyes when you gifted him the one you'd found in the thrift store. suguru had treated it reverently, telling you with an earnest sort of smile that, "the first song i write will be for you." he's traded out acoustics for rock. he has no need for that guitar anymore, you think absentmindedly. just like he no longer needed you.)

but what you don't know is that every time satoru's makeup artist gets to his eyes, he has to keep them firmly shut or else he'd burst into tears. she didn't do it like you. she never would. every time he steps onto the stage, he looks for you, though he knows he'll never find you. it never stops him from looking. how he sings his heart out in the hopes you'll hear him, unaware that despite his popularity, you avoid his music like it's deadly.

what you don't know is that every time suguru writes, he realizes how he lied to you. "the first song i'll write will be for you," he remembers, and yet now every song he writes is about you. now, girls he doesn't even know, screams his name, screams along to his songs that he wrote for you. they pretend that they're the girl who was left behind, the girl that he's never stopped loving.

(he'll never forget the way your hand fit into his, how even at the age of six he knew that you were the only one who ever had his heart along with satoru)

how on days he misses you particularly badly, the piercings you'd given him burns. he writes his love into his music, the music that you shut off every time you hear it come on the radio.

it changes nothing, if they come back, you tell yourself. suguru and satoru have each other. they don't need you.

but one day they do come back, come back for you, and it changes everything.