#that's some true love shit right there

[vaguely-concerned]

the strength it must have taken for illario to not immediately go full 'lmao since when have you even had a kiss hello lucanis' sibling violence mode during the café talk. inspirational. rook and lucanis really were doing all that right in front of his salad huh

[nathaniacolver]

what it feels like thinking about all the tragedy in arcane, and then remembering the lesbians

[m0ggers]

One Oni-Chan to rule them all and in the darkness bind them

the Kusōzu brothers because I have no fucking chill:

Choso: Walking Anxiety. Blood Manipulation. Eso: The Rizzler. Blood/Explosions. Kechizu: Golden Retriever. Hemophilia. Noranso: The Eeyore. Purification. Seioso: The Artist. Sensory Destruction. Lanso: Nature Nut. Freaky Shikigami. Sanso: Envelope Pusher. Dismemberment (you and him). Kosso: The Chill Friendly One. Bone Weapons. Shoso: The Gentle One. Disintegration.

(eso and kechizu got new faces bc 1. they died but came back so i wanted to nod to that 2. i'd like to have more than what amounts to 1.5 eps of content accessible to me if i ever want to do more edits 3. part of the "why does only choso get to be hot??? [sexualizes your otoutous]" bit)

[sophaeros]

Q: If, like Kiss did, The Strokes released simultaneous solo albums, what would they be like? Julian: “I’d like to collaborate on them, but they probably wouldn’t let me near them. Fab’s would be kinda gothic, a lot of classical-type instrumentation – like low-pitched choirs in the background, keyboards, and his voice would have a lot of reverb on it. Albert would have the most Strokes-style solo record, with lots of funny disjointed riffs, and the theme would be love and relationships. Nick would have a Motley Crew-meets-Blur record with high-pitched [imitates Bruce Dickenson yowl] ‘Waaaaaah’ vocals. Nikolai would have an indie, chilled out, [laughs] bass-driven album.”

— the strokes for q magazine, april 2002 / wr. danny eccleston (x)

fab: knots - machinegum (2019)

albert: caught by my shadow - ahj (2015)

nick: walls - crx (2016)

nikolai: burnin_up - summer moon (2023)

[red40exe]

michael to jeremy: hey this thing you said and did bothered me

jeremy starts overly apologizing and doesn’t let michael speak, unintentionally being a bad listener / feeling too sorry for himself

is my favorite thing ever. 12 yrs of friendship is a lot of weight to carry. whenever someone coined me as their best friend, i could never regard that as anything but a sign of doom. call me jaded. i headcanon michael to truly be extremely unsociable outside of direct interactions that are a must. hes deeply loyal to jeremy to a fault and oh baby the co dependency is bad bad bad!

once Michael becomes aware of it, he’ll hang so far back until he fades into the background. the painful part is watching your friends move on bc that’s just how it happens sometimes. love from afar is a bittersweet thing

[qiu-yan]

in MDZS the novel, the innkeeper in Yunping mentions that people are too scared to go petition Yunmeng Jiang for help because someone once walked in on Sect Leader Jiang whipping a guy in the main hall, supposedly because the guy was a demonic cultivator.

[n0bluev]

@fushiglow hmm….wonder who i’d draw this for all of a sudden and why… 🤔🤔

[reinedeslys-central]

"I think you should totally get in the back of my truck, actually," Leo says, linking pinkies with Jason. "What's the line? 'I can show you the world'?"

Jason stares down at where their fingers are curled together, peach on olive. He can't stop looking. "You don't have a truck."

Leo groans. "That was one time. I promise this one's legal. See?" He gently untangles their hands and slips behind the blue Chevy, returning with a slip of wrinkled paper that he triumphantly shoves in Jason's face.

LEO, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU BREAK MY CAR WHILE I'M IN IOWA I WILL HAUNT YOU TO THE END OF TIME.

Your loving cousin, Nyssa (P.S. You can take your boy for a ride. I'll allow it. There's blankets in the back (and please help yourself to the glovebox). Don't tell me.)

Jason's eyes travel down the sparkly purple pen, catching on the note at the bottom before flickering back up. There's something that aches in his chest at the words 'your boy'.

He's not sure what expression takes over his face, but Leo, for his part, sees him and immediately ducks his head down so he can read the paper too, frowning. Jason follows his eyes down to the same line as they widen and Leo turns a raging, glorious red before hastily re-crumpling the note and sticking it into one of the many pockets of his cargo pants.

He clears his throat awkwardly while inspecting the dying grass at their feet. It looks like it could be good grass if it ever rains again this month, nice and long and thick.

..Yeah, nevermind.

He takes his glasses off and cleans them in an attempt to - what, exactly? It's not like he's got the object permanence of a toddler. It's not like looking away will stop him from thinking about red-hot blushes and bouncing curls and sharp smiles and -

Leo claps once, calling Jason's attention back up to him and the pretty blush staining his freckled nose. He looks just as awkward, laughing bashfully.

"Well, that's just Nyssa. Uh, she probably wouldn't actually haunt me, she doesn't believe in ghosts - not, I mean, if you do -" his words trip over each other, diverting the original innuendo that was definitely just meant to tease Leo since Jason's never even met her, not to mention he's not his, finally ending with - "but as you can see, it's clearly perfectly legal. So."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Somehow I doubt that." Leo groans. "Oh, come on, dude, live a little, why dontcha?" He sidles up to him again, draping a warm arm over his shoulders and drawing him over to the car doors. "I know, you know, your dad's in California, your mom's in Paris, and your sister's at a party."

Jason opens his mouth to protest again and -

"- and before you say that you have homework," Leo scoffs, "allow me to remind you that we did our homework together yesterday, and you're already done your math homework for tomorrow, because you're a nerd."

Jason closes his mouth. "It's a school night," he offers weakly.

"Yeah, and every minute you have us waste out here is another minute we're not in the car, ergo another minute we're wasting, on a school night." Leo steps around him and holds his hands out again, eventually latching on to Jason's wrists and tugging him closer so he can peer into his eyes.

Jason may or may not forget how to breathe.

"Are you tired? You don't look tired," Leo frowns. "If you really don't want to go, I won't force you, y'know."

Jason forces his lungs to expand, contract, expand, so he can blurt out, "No, I mean, you got me. I'll go."

Leo grins as bright as the setting sun and twists around, whooping. He not-so-gently pushes Jason towards the car door before jogging over to hop into the driver's seat.

It takes a while, once they're actually on the road and leaving their neighbourhoods behind, that Jason finally goes, "You know, I'm just as concerned with how legal this is as I am with the fact that you still haven't told me where we're going."

Leo glares at him through the mirror. "Hey, if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

Jason hates surprises. "For all I know, you just kidnapped me for a surprise road trip to Toronto, and I didn't even pack my toothbrush."

Laughter bubbles out of the boy sitting at the wheel, quickly escalating into a full guffaw. "You're funny," Leo gasps, wiping away tears at a red light. "How did I not notice that you're funny?"

Jason's definitely never been told that he's funny. He might joke, sure, but being 'funny' is reserved for people like Percy, people like Leo or Cecil, who carry humour on them like sugar on a pastry, baked into their laughs and sprinkled over top with how clever they are.

No matter how hard Jason's tried, he's never been very clever.

Leo's still laughing, now more of a soft giggle as he pulls into the left lane to make a turn. He tries not to let it affect him.

"You should joke more often, dude. Bet all the girls would love that."

Jason looks outside at the trees and farms they're passing. Judging by the position of the sun, they're heading pretty much due south. There's nothing down south for them to be doing, though, especially not this late at night.

Skinny dipping, maybe. He wouldn't put it past Leo to suggest something like that and actually go through with it. But dragging him along? They barely know each other. What's a couple months on all the other people he knows?

"You wanna turn the radio on?" Leo says. Jason looks over to see him watching him with an odd smile. "Shotgun's choice, right? Don't worry, I won't judge. Even though I bet you listen to those 24-hour 'nature recordings' for fun and don't know what real music sounds like."

Jason rolls his eyes and plays with the dial until the 106.1 comes on. Leo groans. "Seriously? They keep playing, like, the same six artists over and over. Sure, Top 40's fine, but show a little variety, you know?"

He shrugs. It's like Leo said - he doesn't really know radio stations. His dad - when he deigns to drive the family places - is much more of a silence-of-doom, or failing that, an ominous-car-conversations person. "You put something on, then, if you're so set on it." He replies.

The warm light from the street plays over Leo's knuckles as he switches the wheel to one hand, blindly flailing the other one towards Jason until he hits the box behind the gear shift. "Pick a CD from here, whatever's fine. Eh, maybe not the Chopin or Metallica though. Might shift the vibe a bit too much."

Obligingly, Jason tugs at the black, faux-leather box until it comes open with a muffled thunk. Inside is a stack of CDs, spanning everything from Katy Perry to Vivaldi to Iron Maiden to Monsta X.

"Your cousin's got quite the music taste," he tosses out, rifling through the stack while giving periodic glances out the window to make sure they're not, like, five seconds away from a crash or something.

If there was anything Beryl Grace taught her kids, it was how to be a responsible passenger.

Almost on autopilot, Jason digs the pink-purple Teenage Dream CD out of the pile and then has to hastily shove the polaroids that spill out from underneath it back between the surrounding paper disc-sleeves (Mamma Mia!, he sees, and ..Heng:garæ? Whatever that means). That can't be safe for the discs, especially in a moving card, but then again who is he to judge. He doesn't even own any CDs.

They've fully left the town behind now, sailing down the open road with nothing but trees, farms, and the occasional streetlight in sight. He leans over and pops the disc into the CD drive, wondering again for the hundredth time where Leo's taking him.

Leo rolls to a stop at a four-way and watches him skip over the first two songs. "Whadya choose?"

Jason smiles. "Is now a good time to tell you I was born in Pasadena?"

The open bars of 'California Gurls' start to play, and Leo's warm, penny-brown eyes widen before he laughs, bright and a touch wild, incredulous.

It's weird. It's so weird. Maybe this is what his father meant when he said not to get any weird ideas in his head so close to finally reaching the decade-long goal of an Ivy League school. Maybe this is what his mother meant when she'd chastised him, saying hormonal teenagers got more impulsive with puberty and he should take care to keep listening to his parents, lest he lose everything he's worked so hard for.

If anyone else had tried this, he thinks, he wouldn't have said yes. He would have stayed at home, studied ahead for bond enthalpy and subjunctive Spanish, made tomorrow's lunch and cleaned his room. Adhering to routine. Acting - being normal.

You have to be normal, Jason. That's how they love you.

I will not tolerate an abnormal son.

Oh, Jason, it's like you just don't understand. What will people say? About you? About our family?

Leo isn't normal. Or maybe he is. Normal doesn't exist, when he's with Leo. He likes that about him.

He takes a risk and rolls the window down halfway so he can lean his head out and watch the sky, crisp wind tousling his hair. Leo smirks at him and switches the wheel to his right hand so he can roll his window down to match.

"Ten minutes," he says. "Look alive, buddy."

"There must be something in the water", Katy Perry croons.

also from 'burning like a glowing star', this valgrace fic I'm writing.

more stuff: Writing Directory

[lae-zels]

mr house never being able to replicate his courier six because they never let him scan them, so all he has are a few shoddy recordings he took to recreate the courier from. his replicas of courier six are flawed: none are as perceptive, resourceful and proactive. they aren't good at out-of-the-box thinking or improvising. their problemsolving, diplomacy skills and technological innovation ideas fall short of the original and are just another disappointment every time. they end up hollow shells like jane, marilyn and victor. letting new vegas go, ruin itself in pursuit of recreating his perfect right hand again, hope for another fruitful partnership and bright future of the mojave like they did before is so delicious it makes me sick actually send tweet ✌

[actual-corpse]

Just got a rude reminder about how great it is to never have children/ be an only child.

There's too much drama involved with dying, apparently.

[mazojo]

And when I say I was disappointed Benji opened that door instead of Rahim start season 3 then what

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

[iscratchdoors]

i think the decision of who gets to medically transition probably should not be given to people who find trans bodies inherently disgusting and undesirable, personally

[jubileebloom]

I aspire to be a lover not a hater. but

[i-c-u-p]

going to start using this platform like twitter again and by that i mean posting relentlessly and going on rants in the tags

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

tell me about your correct opinions. I love hearing opinions...

Honestly I can't think of any specifics rn hdggjndg I just know I am a Nishikiyama Understander. I think one off the top of my head is that yes, he's clearly more emotional than others, but he is not remarkably so and he is NOT a 'crybaby'. Like every time he's cried on screen it's been for very understandable reasons and in highly emotional situations.

Or the idea that him not reciprocating Reina's feelings is like, an inherent character flaw??