Attackplanalpha - JUDE

repost of china doodles for the new account i loveeee him

now and then sweep🙏

grammy nominations for record of the year 2025

❀ - isn’t it good, norwegian wood?

rubber soul inspired moodboard

one day i’ll become active.. probably today

beatle gunk from a few months ago.....feel bad letting it rot away on my puter.........suppose im always going to be a 13 year old beatle freak at heart..

play that funky music white boy.

go read it NOW if you want to see PEAK from my friend

“She’ll be okay, Jotaro.” Noriaki reassured weakly, his hand trailing across the dip in the sheets to meet a tanner, yet equally calloused hand, their pinkies intertwining hesitantly.

Jotaro is worried about his mom. Kakyoin helps. A/N: This is shitty and probably ooc and I really don’t give a crap, this is to get my feels out in a productive way and yes it was written in like 30 minutes

Jotaro’s heart stutters at the telltale sound of glass clattering onto the nightstand, Noriaki’s glittering red cherry earrings being retired for a night of rest. The clinking like crystal chimes slipped him out of his dull thoughts, the aches in his body getting more pronounced again as he came back to himself. He felt a weight settle onto the bed next to him yet didn’t stir, didn’t even bother to open his eyes. He knew who it was, because who else could it be? He couldn’t resist the temptation to turn his head, green eyes meeting a striking lilac like that of a sunset which always made his heart flutter. He saw Noriaki’s pupils dilate slightly and his heart stuttered, amazed with how he managed to pull him out of his spiraling thoughts so damn quickly.

“Jojo?” Noriaki whispered, not a secret but a soft plea. He knew something was wrong, they just understood each other like that these days. It was such an odd phenomenon, feeling closeness with someone you could never truly grasp because of their elusive nature. It was a two way street, though. Jotaro was never the most talkative when it came to himself… or at all. Yet somehow Noriaki understood, he somehow managed to click like nobody else ever could or would, for better or for worse.

Jotaro grunted, turning on his side to face Noriaki head on, though he couldn’t meet Noriaki’s eyes as he spoke. “My ma… she’s still in pain. Still.” He mumbled softly, looking down at Noriaki’s fingers as they furled in the sheets anxiously.

“Sometimes I wonder… what would happen. If we didn’t make it in time to save her,” He chuckled dryly, running a slightly sweaty hand through his hair, the feeling of touching himself akin to scraping yourself on sandpaper, or maybe rope burn. “My dad… would have to step in. And he… he doesn’t…” Jotaro huffed, his gaze flitting everywhere across the room before finally setting his gaze on Noriaki again. “I would hate for my last moments with my ma just be me being a bastard to her.” He rumbled, the words jumbling in his mind. Straight to the point, that’s how he always was, and it was something Noriaki respected, especially in moments like these.

“She’ll be okay, Jotaro.” Noriaki reassured weakly, his hand trailing across the dip in the sheets to meet a tanner, yet equally calloused hand, their pinkies intertwining hesitantly. Jotaro grumbled, closing his eyes, his face half buried in the pillow under his head, “You… you don’t know that. Don’t make a promise you don’t know if you can keep.”

Noriaki only sighed in response, understanding the sentiment. The two of them were never one for white lies over awful truths with anyone, and especially not each other.

Jotaro’s heart skipped a beat, his cheeks getting hot as Noriaki’s free hand found itself in his dark curls, tracing the pattern of them and letting his fingers wrap around the soft, freshly washed coils as he pulled Jotaro’s face to his chest. Jotaro let out a petulant rumble in his throat, though it quickly died as he wrapped an arm over Noriaki’s waist, his hand caressing the soft fabric of his sleepwear. He sighed, closing his eyes and letting a warm, soft feeling soothe his anxiety. It was still there, but it was muted, and that was the best they could do for now.

“…She’s in good hands, Jojo.” Noriaki muttered into his forehead, his grip on his hair tightening slightly as he heard Jotaro snore softly. He quickly followed, giving one last glance to his abandoned twin bed before relaxing his muscles, giving into Jotaro’s hold on him, like the pull of a fishing line that just kept on reeling, and so damn tempting.

rest in peace john lennon, you would have loved toxic yaoi in media

Kinda obsessed with this picture because everyone else is at least pretending they’re sort of restrained but Paul’s off to the side flirting his way out

i can attest to this as a paul fan myself

if your favorite beatle is paul you have to be at least a little disturbed. there is something about you that is strange and off-putting. you see things others do not