#and i was like hey wait that IS weird though

[deadsetobsessions]

“Did you know that shrimps…”

Tim leaned in, poorly hidden eagerness splayed across his face. A clue that Danny and Phantom were dating?

“Are super delicious?” Danny mumbled, ducking his head to hide his impish grin. Tim exhaled, disappointed, and leaned back to observe. Danny currently had his arm elbow deep in Jason’s chest, the older man grimacing at the weird feeling of being phased through.

“You done?”

“Almost. This is a multiple session kind of thing though, since the corrupted ectoplasm's not only in your body, it's actively trying to fuse with your DNA. Like, a really fucked up virus with virtually no cure."

"No cure?!" Dick's panic was only barely suppressed. "But I thought you said you could help with that?"

"Yeah, I mean, how do you cure death? Everything has to end eventually." Danny said practically, before drawing a bit more tainted ectoplasm out. He stealthily replaced it with a cleaner source, a shot of ecto-dejecto he had absorbed as Phantom but didn't assimilate. "But don't worry, you're not dying again yet. You'll just become even more liminal."

"More?"

"Yeah. You were, by definition, a liminal. Now you'll just have more access to the traits- more in tune with your emotions, night vision, and a minor ability to manipulate ecto."

"I'm sorry, can we circle back on the fact that pit water is trying to fuse with my DNA?" Jason stressed. Danny took his hand out, treatment complete, and dusted them off.

"You don't have to worry about that either, since you've got a magic immune system in the form of... swords?" Danny’s brows furrowed, his senses making sense of the shape of magic.

"The All-Blades are cutting off pit water access." Jason sounded done. Exasperated at where he was in life... but really not all too surprised.

"...Sure?" Danny shrugged. The halfa has seen weirder shit than magic swords.

"Wait, you have magic?!" Dick reached over to grasp Jason's shoulder to shake him. Jason knocked his hands off, scowl becoming more prominent.

"Yeah, picked it up a while ago."

"And you didn't tell us?!"

In lieu of an answer, Jason summoned the All Blades and stabbed Dick, who yelped before realizing they just phased through him.

"Oh, you should use those more. They're purifying the ecto at a smaller quantity, but some is still better than none, right?" Danny said, pleasantly surprised. He ignored Dick’s outraged spluttering. “How interesting.”

Tim gathered his open jaw just to cheekily ask, "So, Jason's a magical girl? Usagi?"

Jason raised the one of the blades threateningly at Tim, who remained unfazed after watching them slide through Dick’s shoulder without leaving a trace of damage.

Danny laughed, "Hah! Nah, more like Madoka? If those are All-Blades, he’s supposed to kill evil with them…”

"Fuck off." Jason grumbled. Dick poked at the sword going through his shoulder in fascination. "Stop that."

"My baby brother is magical and he didn't tell meeeeeee!" Wailed Dick, flopping over Jason’s back like dead weight, hand clutched to his imaginary pearls as he swooned. Jason groaned, dismissing the blades to shove Dick off of him.

"Oh my god, this is why."

“Wait, have you tried stabbing Joker with them? If anyone’s pure evil, it’ll be that guy, right? No, but you’re a civilian… so you might get hurt,” Danny mumbled, huffing a grin as Jason gained a thoughtful look. Guess Danny knows what Red Hood’s gonna try next.

Tim ignored his dumbass brothers, finally done with the subtle tactics. Plus, he has to cut Danny off before he gives Jason any more bright ideas.

“You know, there’s been a rumor going around,” he started, only to get cut off by team Phantom’s impeccable timing. Danny’s open laptop rang with the blaring tones of a group call. The two idiots in the back stopped squabbling with each other, quieting down with interest.

“Oops, gimme a second.” Danny hurried to click the join call button, connecting to the video call. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe!” Tucker said brightly. In the background, Tucker could see Jason mouthing “babe?” to Tim, who shrugged. Dick’s face flashed into something intense before slipping back to its normal harmless facade.

“Sup, loverboy?” Sam chimed in, looking smug. “How’s my favorite boyfriend doing?”

Danny, leader of the gaslight gatekeep girlboss brainwave, naturally slipped into the banter. “Are you saying that ‘cause Tucker ate beef jerky in front of you?”

“Worse. He snuck a tourist t-shirt into my closet. My parents had a fit when they came to visit.”

“I said I was sorry, babe!” Tucker continued, looking actually regretful. Ah, this was something he actually did, as a prank.

“Whatever. Who’s the peanut gallery behind you, loverboy?” Sam buffed her nails, clearly in the middle of reapplying her signature nail polish.

Danny grinned. “Aweeee, is that the color shifting polish I got you? So you do love me!”

“We’re dating.”

If they hadn’t gotten the hint now, Danny would have to rescind their whole world’s best detectives titles.

“That’s our Sam, Danny. Prickly like a hedgehog but allll squishy on the inside.” Tucker snickered. “Seriously though, introduce us.”

Danny backed away from the camera. “This is Jason, Tim, and Dick. Guys, meet my wonderful boyfriend and girlfriend, Tucker and Sam.”

“Hi,” the three vigilantes chorused, looking awkward. Dick broke out of the atmosphere pretty quickly, used to controlling the mood.

“I’m Dick!”

“I’m sure,” drawled Sam. “Nice to meet you, even if we’ve met before.”

“You have?” Tucker and Danny asked.

“Yeah, at the galas. I doubt you’ll remember me.” Sam grimaced. “I was the miserable one in the pink frills.”

“Sam Mason?” Tim asked.

“Yep.”

The boys winced. “Rough.” Jason sympathized.

“Oh, yeah. Danny, how goes wooing Phantom?” Sam asked loudly, looking like she'd rather be discussing anything but the frilled monstrosity that haunted her nightmares.

“Oh, good! I think he’s warming up to me!”

“Ugh, babe, you fabulous fuck, why are you so charming? Why Phantom?” Tucker complained. Danny grinned.

“Come on, nerd, even you have to admit he’s hot.” Sam drawled, looking entertained.

“And majorly cool,” Danny chimed in, with a grin. Wow, Sam must really want Dr. Isley’s number. That, or she’s having a blast fucking with the peanut gallery. Their eyes were bouncing back and forth between Danny and the screen like they were at a tennis match. Or both. It's probably both.

“It’s so not cool to date one of my exes.” Tucker whined. “Plus, you know what he’s like.”

“What’s he like?” Dick asked, leaning in.

“Yeah, Danny won’t tell us anything,” Tim followed up seamlessly.

“Phantom? Hot. So. Hot. Super romantic too.”

"And an emotional mess. You'd never believe what-"

"Okay, seriously, it was one time!" He broke Tucker's system once, and he never let it go. Danny never got a break around here.

"Wait, if you liked him so much, why'd you break up with him?" Jason asked Sam. In Danny's peripherals, he could see Dick updating a group chat. It was going, as they say, swimmingly.

"Obviously I liked Danny more. But having all of them isn't too bad of an idea." Sam leaned back, looking as powerful as she normally does.

"But did it have to be Phantom?" Tucker sulked impressively. Then his eyes finally wandered to Tim. "Oh my god, Tim Drake. Danny, why don't you woo him?! Hey, Mr. Drake, are you interested in dating Danny? He brings terrible puns, smoking looks, and makes killer dinners. All you have to do in exchange is let me pick your brains."

Damn it, Danny knew Tucker was going to pull something like this.

"Uh-huh?" Tim flushed as his brothers cackled at his expense. "Sure..? Wait, what- I mean-"

"Sorry, Timsy. You're gonna have to fight Phantom for my hand. Considering you have no combat experience and Phantom's undead... rough, man."

"Danny, if you don't date him, I will," Tucker solemnly swore.

"Hey, get your grubby paws away from my little brother!" Dick tried to sternly warn them, effect broken by his own intermittent giggles.

"Yeah, you want to date him, you gotta go through the gauntlet." Jason said, muffling Tim's flustered protests with an arm.

"Challenge accepted." Danny paused. "Wait, did I just sign up to be Tim's boyfriend? Shit, Phantom's gonna kill me."

——

Danny texted a series of numbers to Sam. She left him on read.

Ah, maybe he shouldn't have introduced a budding ecoterrorist to a veteran one, but too late now!

——

If you notice any inconsistencies, no u don’t.

It’s been a while since I’ve written for this series though so… yk. Danny, verbally sealing himself into the trap while being chaotic. In character, me thinks.

[transmutationisms]

Hey. So that claim that stimulants do completely different things for people who “have ADHD” and “don’t have ADHD” is obviously bullshit but I was wondering if you happen to have read anything I could refer to about that

Okay I want to try using this to break down how I would actually approach this type of question, inspired by some posts I've seen recently about how to read and analyse things that are wrong / bad / liberal.

I don't have, off the top of my head, a published & refereed source that discusses this particular claim. I'm pretty certain there is at least one such thing out there. But I'm also pretty confident it won't be very good. The claim it's responding to is relatively historically recent, & is cloaked in still-fashionable neurobiological terms. Also, the literature on ADHD is bad in general, and so is the general quality of the kinds of imaging studies that are cited to support such claims about 'brain differences.'

If I were writing a literature review or a historiography, here is the part where I would need to go find these things anyway. Then I would have to explain how they make their arguments and what's missing, and depending on the scope of the piece I might have to explain my own philosophical / political position, and advance my methodological critique of the literature I just spent several days finding & reading.

Fortunately I'm writing a tumblr post & my sense is your actual question is "how can I better argue against this obviously bullshit claim," so I don't have to do any of that. There's not really much point sinking that kind of time and effort into finding a source I already think is unlikely to adequately make the argument I'm looking for anyway.

Instead, I would now look at the claim itself. What must be true in order for it to hold?

ADHD brains differ from non-ADHD brains

This difference is relevant to the action/metabolism of stimulant drugs

Okay, claim two on that list requires dealing with psychopharmacology & very exact physiological mechanisms, which means a shitload more reading and most of it punishingly dry and technical. Sad & bad.

Fortunately, though, I already know -- from every reading ever, as well as my experience existing on earth -- that ADHD is not diagnosed by any sort of brain scan, anatomical observation, blood test, etc, but by subjective (yes, even if they made you do it on a computer) clinical observation. Hmm, that's super weird for something that is a 'brain difference.'

I also know that psychiatric categories are difficult to correlate with biological observations even where those observations do exist, because an imaging study on ADHD is necessarily only pulling the 'ADHD sample' from people already diagnosed with ADHD. It's circular. Philosophically this is the same problem I laid out in section one of 'What is an alien?' (which you can read & understand even if the main topic of the essay doesn't interest you).

And I also know that brain imaging studies generally are riddled with serious methodological flaws (post discusses the dead salmon study among others) and don't actually produce meaningful, replicable biological distinctions in any kind of correlation with psychiatric categories (also, variation within categories is also very high).

Oh, wait. Now the claim above looks like patent nonsense with zero philosophical foundations. The burden of proof is on whoever's making that claim, & the basic underlying principles are wrong. Yayyyy.

This exercise means 1) I've sat down and reasoned through my own opinion, giving me clarity on why I think what I do and what evidence would change my mind and 2) from now on, when I see someone else make the claim I'm responding to here, I'll know off the bat that they haven't done the same & are starting from a very credulous attitude toward very low-quality research. And I didn't do this by trawling the literature until I found the exact thing I was looking for, but by thinking through the arguments and evaluating a body of literature that is generally explicitly hostile to the kinds of critiques I make & respect.

[purpdrawsthings]

Are We Still Friends In Every Universe? 💜💙

Of course we are.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Hihi everybody have this low effort edit lmao

This just floated around in my mind during school a few days ago, decided just now to make the vid.

SMG43 AUs are wild man. You can find a whole variety of them in all shapes and sizes 💥

Truly astounding ✨

Srry for the first and second image being low quality after I was not holding my camera properly and I do not want to do a retake

Anyways I'm just boutta yap about the vid because yes and yes.

First image - If you don't know, those two are my versions of SMG4 and 3! They both belong in my Purp's Crew AU. I cannonically make them lovers ofc, they so cute together I love them. Funni 4 thoughts while 3 tries his best to answer the question lmao.

Second image - This is from my Brainwashed AU! An AU where they work under Mr Puzzles as overworked employees 💜 4 is the most tired out of the crew, so he can break down easily. Thankfully, there's 3 to always keep him warm even in the dark. They consider them both as just friends but maybe it's more than that teehee

Third image @michaelscorneroftheinternet @dorriostareyes - The first featured AU in the video! The au belongs to both Micheal and Dorriostareyes =3 you can depict this as either the Change In Script AU or The Fallen! Wasn't really intended to depict two AUs but hey depicting two AUs by the two same people who make it is cool ig. This just shows how complex their relationship is hehe, I love angst.

Fourth image @theartistisme43 - THEMMMMM oh wait COUGH- gotta act professional... I had to add ✨them✨ cuz it's ✨them✨ ofc. We had to take a break from the depressed/angsty ones so have adorable couple. This is just to show that they can love each other in another universe [which was real lmao 💜]

Fifth image @grinnames - Godbox bois 💥 it's them, yes them ✨ guh I love them. Anyways, they're just there to show how they can be not necessarily friends but more or so frenemies.. Very complex bois... Tbh I think they lying /silly /jk anyways uh... Shoot my brain juice is running out AIYSIAHSIHX

Sixth image @jovialoddity - HELP I WAS AT SCHOOL WHEN DOODLING THIS SO I DIDN'T REMEMBER THEIR EXACT DESIGNS GUH. Anywaysssss I see them as being neutral together. No gay bois sadly /silly though I'm not really sure about that one sidhidhsudgdihxi it's not me who made the AU Jovi did so uhhhhh yeah if I got it wrong sowwy =D

Seventh image - Now for the last image, it's the two bois from my Circus Showman AU! Their relationship does go the same like my Purp's Crew AU but since SMG4 changed his direction to focus more on his circus thing 3 thought it was just weird and just didn't feel like joining what 4 was doing. That's where the relationship stopped. But ever since 4 came in back to personally invite him and persuade him, their relationship and gone back and slowly rising as the story continues. Their relationship is progressing much slower than the other AU, but they doin fine together hehe =3

Anyways I apologize if any of you couldn't understand a thing I said cuz as one of my traits I have the wonderful trait of not being able to explain stuff clearly without making it more complex than it should be.

Anyways I'm going to disappear before I start being lazy again so byeeee yeetus =3 💥💥💥

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

[heartsriki]

LOVE SOUNDTRACK⌇음악

FLIRT ALERT! series⌇NI-KI | Prev

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader | word count: 2k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ friends to lovers, lots of beating around the bush, no other warnings I think.

synopsis — Riki creates a playlist for you, each song reflecting your shared moments. As you listen, you uncover his hidden feelings and the confession tucked within the final track, leading to a sweet, music-filled moment where your love story plays out in perfect harmony.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊the ot7 series is done :( BUT NOW I CAN WORK ON LONGER AND DETAILED PROJECTS HURRAYYYY, hopefully yall like those when they come out!

The playlist shows up on your phone one evening without warning.

You’re sprawled across your bed, textbooks pushed to the side, a half-empty coffee cup perched precariously on your nightstand. The dorm is quiet except for the distant murmur of voices in the hallway. You’re mid-scroll through your music library when you notice it—For Y/N.

Your thumb hovers over the screen.

Weird. You don’t remember making this.

Curious, you tap on it, and the first song begins to play.

A soft melody hums through your earbuds, and immediately, something tugs at your memory. You know this song. It’s the one that you played in your dorm last winter, the night you and Riki sat by the window watching the first snowfall of the year.

You close your eyes, and the memory comes back in vivid detail.

“You think it’ll stick?” you had asked, blowing on your hot chocolate. The glass pane beside you was fogged up from the warmth inside, but beyond it, the snowflakes swirled under the streetlights.

“Doubt it,” Riki had said, drawing random doodles on the glass window like a kid. He had been watching the snow too, his expression calm. Then, he smirked. “But hey, if it does, I’ll let you abuse me with snowballs as a reward.”

You had laughed, rolling your eyes. “Like I need your permission for that.”

Now, lying in bed, you wondered about the playlist and its meaning.

Wait how did it even get on your phone?

The next day drags by in a haze of half-heard lectures and restless thoughts.

You barely remember getting dressed, barely remember grabbing your bag, and now you’re here—seated across from Riki at your usual table in the campus café, fingers curled around a cup of coffee that’s gone lukewarm.

And he says nothing.

Not a single word about the playlist.

You watch him, searching for any sign that he’s waiting for you to bring it up. But Riki is as casual as ever, scrolling through his phone between bites of his croissant, occasionally glancing up to make some offhand comment about a ridiculous campus rumor or the professor who showed up to class with the worst fashion sense ever.

Meanwhile, your thoughts are a tangled mess.

The playlist. The songs. What do they mean?

Your heart slams against your ribs just thinking about it.

Does he know you listened? Does he want you to say something?

You grip your coffee cup a little tighter, clearing your throat. “So… did you do anything interesting last night?”

It’s a test. A chance for him to bring it up naturally.

Riki hums, still staring at his phone. “Not really. Just played some games with Jake, went to bed late. You?”

You blink. Your fingers tighten around the cup.

Seriously?

He’s going to act like nothing happened?

Your eyes narrow, and you wait—wait for the moment he cracks, for the smirk, for the teasing remark, for anything that shows he knows exactly what he did.

But nothing comes.

“Just slept,” you mutter, forcing yourself to take a sip of coffee, even though it tastes bitter now.

The silence stretches between you.

It’s unbearable.

Your mind races through possibilities. Maybe he sent it by accident. Maybe it wasn’t meant for you at all. Maybe—

Riki stretches lazily in his seat, his hoodie slipping off his shoulder. “Oh, by the way,” he says, and for a second, your breath catches. Finally.

But then—

“Wanna grab ramen after class?”

You stare at him, your stomach flipping.

That’s it? That’s all?

Your grip tightens on your cup as you force a nod. “Yeah. Sure.”

Riki grins, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside you.

And as he goes back to his phone, casually sipping his drink, you realize—

If he won’t bring it up, you might just have to.

but of course Riki doesn’t bring up the playlist over ramen either.

You sit across from him in the crowded little shop just off campus, the air thick with the scent of broth and spices. The steam from your bowl curls between you, but it does nothing to chase away the tension sitting heavy in your chest.

You’ve been waiting—waiting—for him to say something, to acknowledge what he sent you. But instead, he slurps his noodles like it’s just another night, like he didn’t put together an entire playlist filled with memories.

And it’s driving you insane.

“You’re quiet today,” Riki remarks, his chopsticks hovering over his bowl as he watches you. His tone is light, but there’s something in his gaze—curious, a little teasing. Like he knows something is up.

You set your spoon down a little too forcefully. “Am I?”

His lips twitch like he’s holding back a smirk. “Yeah. So weird too. You usually don’t shut up.”

Your jaw tightens. Unbelievable.

If anyone else had made that comment, you’d have thrown a napkin at their face. But right now, you can barely focus on coming up with a comeback.

Your stomach flips just remembering it.

The worst part? Riki looks normal. Like none of this is affecting him at all.

Fine. If he wants to play it cool, two can play that game.

You lean back in your seat, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”

Riki quirks a brow, tilting his head slightly. “That’s new.”

Your fingers tighten around your chopsticks. Say something. Bring it up. Ask him.

But just as you open your mouth, he reaches over, stealing a piece of your fish cake right off your plate.

You slap his hand, scowling. “Excuse me?”

He just grins, chewing obnoxiously. “What? You looked distracted. Figured you wouldn’t notice.”

You do throw a napkin at him this time.

And just like that, the moment passes. The conversation shifts to something else—an upcoming test, some campus drama, a new game he’s been obsessed with.

But underneath it all, the tension lingers.

Because you know the truth.

Riki put together that playlist for you.

And no matter how hard he tries to pretend it’s nothing, you know.

The only question is—when are you going to make him admit it?

That night, you give in.

You’re lying in bed again, phone resting on your chest, screen glowing softly in the dark. Your thumb hovers over For Y/N, heart hammering like it’s some kind of forbidden secret.

Riki still hasn’t said a word about it.

But you can’t let it go.

With a quiet breath, you press play.

The next song starts slow, familiar guitar chords filling your ears. The moment it plays, you recognize it—it’s from that weekend trip to the beach last summer.

Your lips part slightly as the memory washes over you.

The sun had just started to set, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. You and Riki had been sitting in the sand, sneakers discarded, the distant sound of waves blending into the music playing from his speaker.

“If I had to pick a favorite sunset, this would be it.” You had stretched your arms behind you, leaning back, letting the breeze tangle in your hair.

“You say that every time.” Riki had scoffed, but his voice was softer than usual.

“Because it always feels true in the moment.”

He hadn’t responded right away. You remember that part clearly. He had just looked at you for a second, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, instead of saying anything, he had reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before quickly looking away, pretending like he hadn’t just done it.

You had pretended, too.

Now, lying in the dark, you exhale shakily.

You’re not imagining this. You can’t be.

These songs—they’re not just random picks. They’re moments, his moments, things that must have meant something to him.

And the more you listen, the clearer it becomes.

You need to talk to him.

The next day, it happens by surprise.

Because of you.

You’re sitting outside the café on campus, staring at your untouched drink, mind replaying the song over and over, when Riki slides into the seat across from you with a lazy grin.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he teases, stealing one of your fries without asking.

You don’t respond. Just stare at him, long enough that the grin fades slightly from his lips.

“What?” he asks, chewing.

“Why won’t you admit that you made it?.”

His chewing slows. “Made what?”

You inhale sharply. “The playlist.”

Silence.

Riki freezes for half a second—so quick you almost miss it—before he forces a shrug, looking off to the side. “Yeah, so what? I made it.”

You blink, caught off guard by the casual admittance. “So what? You weren’t ever going to bring it up?”

He scoffs. “Didn’t know I had to.” Then, before you can say anything else, he pushes his phone across the table toward you, screen lighting up with his music app. “Just—listen to the last song.”

Your stomach twists. “Riki—”

“Just listen.”

And the way he says it—quiet, firm, almost nervous—makes you reach for his phone without another word.

You hesitate for only a second before pressing play.

The song starts slow, just like the last one—soft piano notes trickling in, delicate and familiar. It takes only a few seconds before you recognize it.

Your breath catches.

This song—it’s from that night.

The night it rained.

You remember it so clearly now, like the memory has just been waiting to resurface.

You and Riki had been caught in the sudden downpour, running through the empty streets, your shoes slapping against the wet pavement. You had been laughing, breathless, soaked to the bone, and Riki had grabbed your wrist, pulling you under the awning of a closed bookstore.

“We suck at checking the weather.” You had panted, pushing your dripping hair out of your face.

“No, you suck at checking the weather,” Riki had corrected, shaking out his arms like a wet dog.

You had rolled your eyes, shivering slightly. Without a word, Riki had tugged off his soaked hat, shaking off the rain before draping it over your head.

“Riki—”

“Just wear it,” he had muttered, avoiding your eyes. “Protects you from the rain a bit.”

The moment had stretched between you, heavy despite the laughter that had just filled the air. You remember how his fingers had brushed against yours when he adjusted the hat, how close he had been, how the rain had clung to his lashes when he finally looked at you.

And now—this song.

It had been playing from the small speaker outside the bookstore, blending into the sound of raindrops and your pounding heart.

Back in the present, sitting across from Riki in the café, you slowly set his phone down.

He’s not looking at you, gaze fixed on the table, fingers tapping against his cup.

Your chest feels impossibly tight.

“This song,” you whisper. “I remember it.”

Riki lets out a quiet breath, barely a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? thought you wouldn’t with your short term memory.”

Your heart stutters. “Why—” You swallow. “Why put this one last?”

Finally, he looks at you. There’s something in his expression you can’t quite place—something cautious, something vulnerable.

“Because that’s when I knew.”

Your stomach flips. “Knew what?”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s frustrated with himself. Then, he meets your gaze, eyes steady.

“That I liked you.”

The words hang between you, weighty and real.

“Me too” you responded.

Series Taglist — prev

@saphiranishimurashan @elairah @baribaaari @m1kkso @letwiiparkjay @jellyluv4eva @manuosorioh @moontyun @mbsnow @taesanoreohair @tiny-shiny @glimmerinaaa @e-r-i-15 @starbyeol1512 @seyoungiesleeps @vrusha01 @enhaprettystars @luv-rizzimura

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

Spite's attempted wanderings are thwarted, and Rook is called in to help.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 7 - Disquieted Demons

Read on AO3

The knock on their door is a welcome distraction from the increasingly dire sounding missives from the south. It’s Harding who pops her head around the door, but the look on her face says she’s not here to lift their mood.

“Harding. What’s up?”

Grimacing, she replies. “Spite’s back.”

They relaxed, that they could deal with. Harding pushed the door fully open as they approached and started leading them out.

“Ok, let me go talk to him. Was he trying to get through the eluvian again?”

“Maybe, but Taash caught him just as he was leaving the pantry and blocked him in there.”

Rook placed a hand on her shoulder as they reached the base of the stairs. “Stay here and watch the door just in case, but I’ll handle it.” Their reassurance seemed to ease her worries and she seemed content to curl up in a seat facing the door and wait.

-----

The sight of Lucanis sat on his cot in the pantry is a familiar one, the glowing eyes and outline of wings scorched into the wall behind him is not. Spite seems calm, although not happy about it, behaving himself under Taash’s watchful eyes. But Rook can see the agitation itching beneath his skin.

Taash doesn’t take their eyes off Spite as Rook walks in. “Demon’s back.”

“I don’t think he ever leaves, actually.”

Despite their familiarity and comfort with spirits, Taash still seems wary around Spite when he’s in full control. They send Rook a warning look as they move further into the pantry, closer to where he’s sitting.

“Then he’s acting weird.”

Spite sniffs the air in Taash’s direction, shifting on the cot. “Smells like…melon and woodsmoke.”

“Hey! No! No, sit your ass back down.”

Spite hisses, chafing at the command, but obeys nonetheless. His focus is now solely on Rook though, the violet glow trained on them intently. Rook turns back to Taash.

“I’ll handle this. Harding’s in the library watching the eluvian room. Maybe you should go help her.”

They shoot Taash a wink and catch a faint flush rise on their cheeks as they turn away. Taash gives a firm nod before marching out of the room, shutting the door behind them with a bang.

Safely alone, Rook faces Spite again and finds him on his feet and shockingly close.

“Now. We get to talk.”

“What’s wrong Spite?”

“Lucanis. Made a deal. He hasn’t kept.”

“What deal?”

“Break our chains. Kill. Escape our prison. And live.”

“Isn’t that what happened?”

“No! I want out!”

Rook was lost. This wasn’t just anger, there was desperation tinting Spite’s words. His movements were never as smooth as Lucanis’, still not as used to a physical body, but there was a manic, directionless energy to him that Rook didn’t like.

“Out to where? Spite, I know it’s hard for you but I can only help if you tell me what’s wrong. You want out? We can go somewhere. I’m sure I can persuade Lucanis to let you stretch your wings a bit.”

They try to reach out to him, help calm him down, but he jerks back, the violet haze over his eyes flickering violently.

“No! No! He promised!” Spite’s struggling and thrashing now, warring with an unseen force as Rook watches, helpless. “Tell him! Make him-“

With one final violent shudder, he uncurls and staggers back. Lucanis’ deep brown eyes are clouded with confusion as he winces and takes in his surroundings.

-----

Through the haze and jitters that wresting control back from Spite always leaves him with, he takes quick stock of his surroundings.

The pantry. Well, either Spite didn’t get far, or he came back for some reason. With no way of telling how much time he had lost it left him guessing.

A familiar figure stood before him, leaving him enough space to get his bearings without feeling crowded. As his eyes focus enough to see them clearly, the look of concern is unmistakable. He hated being the cause of it.

“Rook?”

“You were sleepwalking.”

How they could sound so cavalier about this was beyond him.

“Spite was sleepwalking.”

“He didn’t go anywhere. Nothing happened.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, one worry off his chest. He was still left with the feeling of disconnect that lingered after Spite’s wanderings. And what little mental capacity he had beyond that was awash with shame. He ran a tired hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes harshly.

“I didn’t want you to see that. Again.”

“Nothing I’m seeing makes me want to look away.”

Pulling his hand away, he stares at Rook with stunned disbelief. They were smiling at him softly. The private smile reserved only for him. As much as he cherished that look, it both lifted his spirits and made him feel unworthy to bask in it. How could they still look at him like that after seeing his lapse in control.

“How do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom. You deserve better than to deal with my mess.”

You deserve better than a broken abomination.

“You’re more than what you’re going through. And you wear it well.”

The reassurance was honest, the words steady and deliberate, but he didn’t miss Rook’s appreciative glance that went along with their casual flirt as they lounged against the wall. The knot tightening in his stomach was a mass of conflicting heat and doubt. Rook had done so much for him, they deserved more from him than this.

It may never have been his preference, but seduction was a vital Crow skill, and he was nothing if not an excellent student. Shaking off his scattered thoughts he slipped into his role and let muscle memory take over.

He returns Rook’s heated glance. The movements come back to him like the well ingrained steps to a dance, trained into him as harshly as the rest of his skills. He prowls towards them, glancing up through his lashes as he comes to a stop. Close enough to tease, able to feel the heat radiating from their body. But not touching. Not yet. He lets his voice drop into a deep, seductive rumble.

“This isn’t a good idea.”

He brings an arm up to the wall next to them, leaning in. Not caging them in, but firmly invading their space with a practiced ease. The move brings them even closer, he knows they’ll see where his gaze is wandering as he drags his eyes slowly down to the open V of their shirt and back up to their eyes. There’s a familiar cheeky glint in them.

“Sometimes a bad idea is better.”

“You like to walk a little too close to the edge.”

Rook leans in, gaze smouldering. They run a finger down his chest, leaving a tingling trail through his clothes “So do you.”

“At least I know I’m doing it.”

He could hear Illario’s voice layering over his own as he spoke, empty words spoken in dark alleyways as he corners a target. The memory of mission after mission, the same passionate script and choreographed dance; the words that poured like sweet honey from Illario’s lips always left his tasting bitter. Rook’s face overlays the faceless target in his mind and snaps him back to the moment. The realisation of what he was doing made him flinch back away from Rook. He couldn’t be this. Not here. Not with them. He cares too much about Rook to give them something so fake. Shaking his head, he starts to pull away.

“I’m sorry. I need to clear my head. Excuse me.”

“Luca, wait.”

A warm palm on his arm halts him mid turn. Not holding. He could move away if he wanted, they aren’t stopping him leaving.

It was a plea. One he didn’t have the strength to resist right now. He turned back, head downturned, too ashamed to look at Rook.

A calloused thumb smooths at the edge of his beard, but doesn’t urge him to look up, and the palm cradles his face more firmly when the action isn’t rejected. The heat of the moment gone, Rook’s touches are a comfort now and he leans into it with a bitter sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Their voice is soft, worry creeping in at the edges. “If I pushed you, I’m sorry.”

He raises his head, pressing his own palm over Rook’s on his face while he cups Rook’s cheek with the other, wanting to banish the sadness gathering in their eyes.

“No. You have been nothing but good to me.” He closes his eyes to gather himself, and buries himself further into Rook’s palm, not wanting to see their expression as he explains. “I want this, Rook. But I don’t know how to want. And with everything that happened. I got so lost in my own head that…” He takes a shuddering breath, not wanting to voice his shame, but Rook needed to know that it wasn’t their fault.

“I…I treated you like a mark. And it felt wrong. You deserve more than that.”

He braved looking up again, and was met with a look of understanding wrapped in the affection he had come to hold so dear.

“It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t deserve. I want you. As you are.” They press a kiss to his forehead. “Never feel like you have to be someone else for me.”

He falls willingly into the embrace Rook pulls him into, latching his arms around them tightly. Their solid bulk is warm and familiar against him as he’s cradled securely in their arms, and some of the tension starts to drain away. He feels the rumble of their voice where his face is pressed to their chest.

“And if this is as far as you ever want to go, that’s enough for me, ok?”

He nods weakly into their chest, already exhausted physically and emotionally despite his impromptu nap. Being hijacked by a demon didn’t lead to the most restful sleep when he did finally succumb.

He snags Rook’s hand in his as he pulls away.

“I think I need coffee.” Rook chuckles and allows themself to be led out of the pantry. He smiles at the affectionately muttered ‘of course you do’ as they follow him to his designated coffee station. He glances up at Rook as he reluctantly untangles their hands to get to work. “I can make you cioccolata calda?”

They press a chaste kiss to his lips, “Mmmm. My favourite.” before moving away to lean against the table to watch him work. With the comforting presence of Rook nearby and his hands busy with a familiar task, his mind starts to settle once more.

[babyjinsu]

love at first sight - anton lee

wc; 996 fluff not proofread not edited

thinking of anton as kole from tokyo sims because of that one outfit on 241228… aaaahh…. 

anton adjusts his mic and squints his eyes at the busy gangnam streets, pushing his glasses up on the sharp bridge of his nose. he scans the crowd for his next victim—interviewee. this is his (and his cameraman, shotaro’s) routine every weekend for their youtube account ‘seoul sims’ where they film street interviews with strangers. their (or the agency’s) goal is to ask unhinged, weird questions. 

initially, it started as a joke (like a social experiment) amongst themselves, among their group of friends—but somehow it blew up when they posted it on their social media. now, they have a growing subscriber count, an inside joke with the ‘fanbase’, and people recognise them mid-interview and in the streets. 

you were on your way home from university. your last class was extended for an extra half an hour, thanks to your annoying classmate who didn’t get how to find adjugate in matrix calculations. you just want to get back home, and rest for the weekend.

anton spots you, a lone figure—your shoulders slightly slouched due to the fact that the straps of your bag are digging into your shoulder. you’re anton’s perfect victim—someone who has had a long day and wants nothing more than a hot shower.

shotaro follows anton’s gaze, “she looks like she’s going to kill you.” he murmurs, which gains a soft chuckle from anton. “yeah, but she’s so pretty though.”

without hesitation, anton steps forward, his small dji microphone in his hand. 

“hey, do you have a minute for an interview?” 

you stop your tracks, looking up to anton with your eyebrows slightly furrowed. what now…? blinking at him and glancing at shotaro who gives you a small smile, you debate whether this is worth your time.

no, obviously… but today’s friday, you suppose you can lend him 5 minutes of your night.

“...okay,” you nod and mutter.

anton smirks, triumphant. he gives shotaro a thumbs up to indicate that he can start recording. anton clears his throat and stands close beside you, and you notice the apparent height difference. 

“great,” anton says, voice smooth and boyish. he brings the mic closer to his mouth first to ask. “okay, what’s a toxic trait about you… that you don’t want to fix?” anton moves his hand to put the mouth in front of your lips.

you let out a soft hum, crossing your arms—obviously in thought. “i guess… academic wise, especially group works, i do most of the work, and then get disappointed when they don’t do anything. but i don’t want them to... because i feel like they can't exceed my expectation.” you purse your lips, nodding. 

anton hums in acknowledgement, “so you can’t work with others? ahh, i get it,” he nods, smiling. “what about in general?” he adds. 

“hm... i don’t trust men. like at all. i think.” you reply, looking at the camera and smiling. anton frowns for a second, looking at you in amusement. “why? experience from a bad relationship?” he asks, genuinely curious now…

it’s crazy to think a pretty girl like you was fumbled by someone… couldn’t be anton.

you shake your head, putting your hands on your hips. “...no? just stories from my friends, i guess. i’d rather not take the risk and just wait for the universe to give me one.” a proud smile form on your face. 

anton laughs, more out of a surprise. just a few minutes ago, you looked like a mere interruption from someone could ascend them to hell—he doesn’t know you’re chill like that. “then does that mean you believe in love at first sight?” 

anton steps it up. 

you roll your eyes, in which shotaro snorts behind the camera. “no. that’s just attraction mixed with delusion,” you shrug. “oh, and i don’t think it’s genuine.” you add.

his heart does this weird and embarrassing thing where it thumps. you don’t believe in love at first sight.

anton freezes, “why do you think so? you’ve never fallen in love with someone you see on the streets?”

you shake your head, pursing your lips once again out of habit. “no…? i mean, yeah i do find strangers attractive but i wouldn’t call it love at first sight… and i don’t think the relationship that comes out of can lasts long either.” 

oh, oh no.

anton’s brain short-circuits the moment the words leave your mouth.

you don’t believe in love at first sight, 

but that’s what he’s experiencing right now.

he blinks too fast as he grips his mic in front of you to keep him grounded. “uh-huh,” he nods stiffly, like a fool. you give him a flat look. “you okay?” 

he hums, turning his body just slightly to face you. “what should i do then?”

you cock your head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “what do you mean? do what?” you ask, glancing between anton, and the camera pointing at you. 

anton leans down to match your height, the hand that holding the mic covering his mouth to whisper—

“what should i do if i’ve fallen with you at first sight?” 

you let out a soft gasp and pull away, looking at him with wide eyes. for a moment, neither you, or anton say anything—leaving shotaro confused. “is this staged?” you finally ask, blinking hard. 

anton shakes his head, and looks at you with a grin. it feels like it’s just you and anton in the middle of the street. your brain buffering—you open your mouth, close it, narrow your eyes like you’re trying to spot the hidden prank in all of this.

anton simply watches you, head tilted, waiting for an answer. 

“so… are you gonna answer, or are you just going to keep staring at me like that?” 

💭 omg im not proud of this AT ALL. ill probably rewrite ;( i just wanna get anton glasses off my mindddddd.....

[buckleyflower]

for you to write for buddie

29. "We are not having this conversation."

but it's about feelings and admitting feelingsssss <3

Eddie can’t handle life without Buck in it. He misses Buck whenever they are apart, whether he likes to admit it or not. He doesn’t, at first. He absolutely, resolutely ignores the feeling.

But that’s his reality, his own life, his truth. And he has to face it, one way or another.

He starts by admitting that to the source of his turmoil. It happens two weeks after he arrives in Texas.

“I miss you,” he tells Buck, crouched down on this ugly, uncomfortable couch in this cold and unfamiliar house. And he gets ready for a catastrophe to happen, some lightning strikes to hit him, for Buck to say that he hates him.

“I miss you too… all the time,” Buck says, though, exhaling like the weight of the world has just been lifted off his shoulders.

So that becomes easier.

Eddie misses Buck and Buck misses Eddie too. And Eddie makes peace with that and tries to learn to live with this huge, Buck-shaped hole in his life while he tries to mend his relationship with Christopher.

Then, Christopher hugs him and asks him about Buck. And Eddie is hit with another life-changing, panic-inducing revelation. Buck is the first person Christopher has asked about ever since he decided he could give his dad a chance at explaining himself. Buck is the first thought on Chris’ mind as soon as he feels like he can talk to his dad.

And it hits Eddie like a ton of bricks the moment Chris asks to FaceTime Buck and Eddie sees the amount of calls they’ve made since he left L.A..

Eddie is in love with Buck. He loves Buck whether Buck is around or not. He misses Buck and loves Buck and it’s— all consuming, terrifying… wonderful.

It’s like the world spun one time too fast and suddenly got its colors (the ones everyone seemed to see except Eddie).

Eddie knows that that is his truth now. It’s his most fundamental truth. He feels like loving Buck is part of him and if he ever even tried to stop, he would die. So it’s only fair that he panics as soon as he finds himself alone with his best friend, if even through a phone screen, and ends up blurting out most of his thoughts.

Buck desperately tries to understand, even offers to get on the first flight to El Paso to talk about whatever is causing Eddie to stutter and flush so much, but eventually Eddie prays that he will forget about that half-assed I love you I think and no, no— no, I mean yeah, but I don’t— I do but—.

He thought he was having a stroke but the feeling comes back when he finds a text from Buck that same evening.

It reads: love you too, dw. Which is admittedly a weird way to tell the love of your life that you love them too, but… it’s them. It’s okay.

That settles down the panic in Eddie, so much so that he ends up texting back a simple thanks. that is even more embarrassing than Buck’s dw at the end of his “confession”.

Eventually, Buck loves Eddie enough to wait for him to be back in L.A. to talk about it, even if he’s dying to do so. And that happens three weeks later.

That means that by the time Buck is at the airport waiting for Chris and Eddie, Eddie has been gone for more than a month and Buck now knows that he misses him and loves him and— he wants to kiss him senseless as soon as he gets in his sight but Chris launches into his arms so that has to wait.

Buck keeps waiting, waits until it’s ten minutes past midnight because Chris begs Eddie to stay up late and Eddie is pretty sure he won’t be able to say no to him for the foreseeable future, so now they’re finally alone and Buck is boring a hole into Eddie’s skull.

He starts smirking when he realizes that Eddie noticed his insistent stare because he flushes adorably. He’s all red and hot and Buck loves him so much. And he missed him so much. He carefully scoots closer to him on the couch, and taps with one finger on Eddie’s warm and red cheek, “hey Eds,” teasingly says.

Eddie readjusts his position trying to become one with the couch cushions, making Buck smile when he mutters a little “no.”

“No?” Buck almost laughs, pushing closer.

“Stop following me!” Eddie blurts out, finally turning around to face him, arms wide open and his face beet red.

That makes Buck burst out laughing. “Following you?” He repeats, playfully mocking him. Then, “I missed you, you know?” He says, serious.

Eddie keeps looking at his coffee table. “No.”

Then again, squirming on himself. “We are not having this conversation.”

Buck laughs again. “No?”

“Absolutely not.”

Well, too bad that Buck needs to have this conversation.

“Okay, so do not converse,” he tells Eddie, faking a weird accent which admittedly makes Eddie hold back a laugh. “I’ll do all the talking.”

He leans in, breathing on Eddie’s cheek, mutters a small “I love you too, Eds,” and kisses his cheek before pulling back, smiling so wide and bright that he lights up the room.

He sees a shiver running down Eddie’s arm, where it is not covered by the shirt, and smirks, patiently waiting for him to recover.

“Still not interested in the conversation?” Eventually, he asks, in a light-hearted way but second-guessing himself all the same.

But what he gets is not an answer, it’s a kiss. A kiss. From Eddie.

Eddie is suddenly kissing him and he doesn’t know how is now straddling him, trying to climb inside his chest.

“I love you,” Eddie mutters against his lips, some undefined amount of time later.

And when Buck smirks, stealing one last kiss before pulling away trying to open his mouth, Eddie lifts a finger and points it in Buck’s face. “Still not having that conversation,” he menacingly tells him, making him laugh uncontrollably.

—

Thank you for asking! I hope it’s not too long/you like it 💓

[trampled-and-melting]

constantly and forever rotating the fact that the two places where roses pop up in the series are in snow's famous white roses, and in the namesake of katniss's sweet little sister, primrose.

it's funny, actually, the fact that snow is heavily associated with two major symbols of purity. white roses, which represent innocence in most flower symbology guides, and we're all familiar with the concept of being, as lucy gray put it, pure as the driven snow.

he and primrose actually have a lot in common, if you think about it. both lost parents at a young age, both were stuck with a maternal figure who wasn't equipped to take care of them, and both had an older sister (or cousin, but whatever), still a child herself at the time, who stepped in to protect them. both had childhoods of cute little nicknames at home and trying to pretend they weren't starving at school.

here's the thing, though: primroses grow wild. their latin name is literally vulgaris, sharing a root with "vulgar"---common. they bloom in forests and hedgerows in the spring, occasionally white but more often yellow. they're local native plants in district twelve, just like swamp potatoes.

compare this to snow's white roses. white roses don't occur in nature. and his in particular are highly cultivated, genetically modified, and grown in a greenhouse. he gives them to people as a veiled threat. the one and only instance in the series in which it isn't a threat is when he gives one to lucy gray, and even then, it's a performance of trustworthiness. it's calculated. he literally uses the smell, bred into them intentionally, to mask the scent of blood.

the crucial difference, i think, is in authenticity. prim is a wildflower. she's not curated, no one made her the way she is, she's not looking for personal gain. she just earnestly is a kind and trustworthy person. and snow can only imitate that. he can only ever pretend to be what comes so naturally to prim. grow your roses all you want, we can still smell the blood on you.

or, i suppose, in other words: to be pure is a different thing entirely from being innocent.

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso × Unconventional Drinking Implements

[funsizedcrow]

he looks so stupid i love him so much

[wewerebornsextuplets]

vograce is whispering to me like the green goblin mask right now i cant even lie

[polarfarina]

Mutuals please please recc me some music that has lyrics. I've been listening to ambient/video game soundtrack/foley based music wayyyy too much give me some music with words

[keeps-ache]

i should learn to make hash browns

[victorluvsalice]

-->Fortunately, Smiler already had some medicine on them, so all I had to do was give some to Victor and have him down it. ...Along with Smiler, as apparently THEY were sick too, just in a somewhat less visible way. Sheesh, poor things... Anyway, Alice got the camera set back up as Rory went to go play in the spilled trash by the front porch (making me go "if you ruin this shot Rory so help me Will Wright") --

And THEN we got some good trio pictures! :D I made sure to take a variety of picture sizes and orientations to go with their various poses. I definitely love some of the goofier ones you can do -- I just wish the third person wasn't standing off to the side like that so much! Bunch in a little closer there, please!

-->With the photos taken, and the main goal fulfilled, all that was left to do was to fulfill Talk Like A Pirate Day by chatting to their friends! Rory and Clement were both jamming by the phonograph, so the trio joined them, Smiler showing off their sweet moves while Alice talked with Rory and Victor with Clement. Weirdly enough, while Smiler had managed to fulfill the "talk like a pirate" traditions at the dinner table, and Victor managed to fulfill them with a bit of hand-holding with Alice (not sure WHY that counts, but okay game), Alice just could not complete that golden check no matter what she did. The party eventually wound down before she could do so, and she dragged herself off to bed as the guests left and Victor and Smiler took some time to squeal over how adorable the kittens were --

And as it turns out, going to sleep is what finally fulfilled the tradition for her. Because both the "sleep" and "nap" options were written in pirate-speak and thus counted. Okay, game. XD

-->However, fulfilling Talk Like A Pirate Day was definitely not my main goal today -- throwing a gold-level family reunion was! And with my love of taking pictures in the game, I easily succeeded in that goal. So, as the guests headed out, I claimed my prize --

New picture frame collages! :D Yes, if you have a good family reunion, you unlock some new collage frames that you can use for all your various photos! And you guys know that I need my collage frames, given how many freaking photos are hanging around the Valicer farmhouse. XD I already knew I wanted to use the "one large, three little, all landscape" collage for some of the wedding shots -- specifically the three of them standing together looking super romantic and the three selfie shots -- and I decided that the other two could be used for the actual family reunion snaps! The stacked trio for the various selfies they'd taken with their friends, and the group of four for my favorite shots from their porch photo shoot. Plus one bonus medium-sized picture just because. XD You guys all know I can't resist a good Van Liddelton shot!

-->And so the day ended with me rearranging all their pictures and photographs to find wall space for the new frames; Smiler deactivating the bots in the greenhouse and making sure the chickens were well-fed before putting some hatchable eggs in the coop to incubate; and Victor playing with Surprise before kicking some creepy hands apart in the barn. *nods* A good Saturday for the OT3! But next week, it's time to start working on the store again, as I am SO CLOSE to getting all those damn shelves filled...

[ms-demeanor]

Wait, so you said that you can learn to trust others by building friendships, but how does one go about doing that? Wouldn't someone I don't know be creeped out or annoyed if I suddenly walked up and started talking to them?

Friendships are built of repeated low-stakes interactions and returned bids for attention with slowly increasing intimacy over time.

It takes a long time to make friends as an adult. People will probably think you're weird if you just walk up and start talking to them as though you are already their friend (people think it's weird when I do this, I try not to do this) but people won't think it's weird if you're someone they've seen a few times who says "hey" and then gradually has more conversations (consisting of more words) with them.

I cheat at forming adult friendships by joining groups where people meet regularly. If you're part of a radio club that meets once a week and you just join up to talk about radios, eventually those will be your radio friends.

If there's a hiking meetup near you and you go regularly, you will eventually have hiking friends.

Deeper friendships are formed with people from those kinds of groups when you do things with them outside of the context of the original interaction; if you go camping with your radio friend, that person is probably more friend than acquaintance. If you go to the movies with a hiking friend who likes the same horror movies as you do, that is deepening the friendship.

In, like 2011 Large Bastard decided he wanted more friends to do stuff with so he started a local radio meetup. These people started as strangers who shared an interest. Now they are people who give each other rides after surgery and help each other move and have started businesses together and have gone on many radio-based camping trips and have worked on each other's cars.

Finding a meetup or starting a meetup is genuinely the cheat-code for making friends.

This is also how making friendships at schools works - you're around a group of people very regularly and eventually you get to know them better and you start figuring out who you get along with and you start spending more time with those people.

If you want to do this in the most fast and dramatic way possible, join a band.

In 2020 I wrote something of a primer on how to turn low-stakes interactions with neighbors and acquaintances into more meaningful relationships; check the notes of this post over the next couple days, I'll dig up the link and share it in a reblog.