#what a good fucking album this was

[baddingtonbitch]

my current favourite youtube channel is this guy that just gets high as fuck and loses his goddamn mind reacting to various divas for the first time. he understands.

#you have no idea how hard it was to narrow down what clip to post i just had to go with this one cus i watched it today #but his other videos are just as good #endless respect for anyone who starts off a mariah album with a blunt and ends up literally on the floor #it's also fun watching the room get hazier as he smokes through albums and sometimes he puts on party lights if he's really feeling it #look at the fucking ash tray on the speaker lmfao #if you put this energy in the passenger seat of a honda civic this was me ages 18-20

[ghost-proofbaby]

Can I request Back to December with Eddie?! and if you could make it kind of angsty 🫣🥹

back to december (eddie's version)

warnings: angsty. very, very angsty. hurt/no comfort.

wc: 2.6k+

a/n: fuck it we ball. i have nothing to say about this one. if it's trash, that's between me and god.

Love was never something that came easily to Eddie. 

Maybe it was due to his upbringing, maybe he was another victim of circumstance, but love and him had always had a complicated relationship. It had left him scorned usually, a long line of failed situationships that trail behind him like ghosts of his pasts. Times he let bury themselves, relationships he’d get involved in knowing he’d never achieve the kind of love he’d seen in books and movies. Other people would talk about their small town romances, and he would only think of all the one night stands he’d subjected himself in which tore off a piece of himself every time he’d depart. He was the type of person to be used, to be drained of what fun the other participant could suck him dry of and then discarded for the next one. He wasn’t relationship material – he wasn’t love material.

Until you. And how unexpected you had been. 

You, who was suddenly sitting in front of him in a coffee shop, hunched over your laptop and no doubt working on finishing up classwork for that degree you’d always talked about getting with him. You, who had been the exact opposite of someone Eddie would have ever anticipated falling for. You, who had never looked at him as something to use and to discard, but to have and to hold. You, the one (and possibly only) exception to everything he thought he knew. 

You’re just as stunning as you had been on late summer afternoons in the passenger seat of his van. Same messy hair, same glowing eyes, same jestering lilt to your lips that seemed ever present even in the most serious of situations. Even with brows furrowed and new stress lines in your forehead, a slight pucker of your lips at whatever was on the screen in front of you and accentuated eyebags that hadn’t been there in your past life but now exist in the here and now, most likely a symptom of the long hours you’d always been willing to put in for the things you wanted – you still took his breath away, even now. 

The first time you’d ever spoken to Eddie, he had considered it a cruel joke. You were beautiful, someone who entered the room and everyone just knew you were the smartest person there. Teachers loved you, others at the very least tolerated you if not admired you. It prodded at every insecurity he’d already harbored. All his fears of not being good enough, of being judged for his repeating years, of forever being doomed to be worn as a mark of shame rather than a badge of pride had been put in front of him with a pretty bow on top. You were something to show off. You were something good. But those wide eyes that had slowly pulled him in, had broken down all his defenses. He’d never stood a chance.

“Eddie?” 

It’s not your voice, but that of the barista sitting down his order on the pickup counter. But his name still tears you from your concentration, and when you pale at the sight of him, he doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he had been staring. 

They have to call out his name a second time before he moves to grab the coffee, turning his back on you just as he had all those ages ago. His fight or flight kicks in; he doesn’t know whether it would be better to leave it as it is and hurry out of this coffeeshop with his tail between his legs, or if for once in his life, it was worth leaning into the discomfort. Instead of running from that crackling in his chest and all the hurt flooding him the same as that final time he’d seen you, maybe he should take a deep breath and dive right in. 

Would you even recognize him as he recognized you? Would your soul see his as if for the first time all over again, and sadly smile with a whisper of, oh. There you are, again?

Or would you pretend to be strangers again? Would you pretend like all the history had faded to smoke and he was just some guy you’d bumped into at a cafe? Would you give him the honor of wiping his slate clean and just starting over, as if he’d never hurt you? 

He had been an idiot when it came to you. A loser who had been handed a gift on a silver platter, and instead of cherishing it until the end of time, he’d ruined it. Ruined you. 

The decision is made long before his palm wraps around the overly warm cup, and his feet carry him to your table before doubt would wrap its chords around his throat.

His chest flutters just like it had in the autumn when he’d first realized that how he felt for you was different. As the leaves of Hawkins had changed color, so had his feelings, turning their own brilliant and vibrant shades between him draping his leather jacket across your shoulders and the gentle kisses you’d wake him with before the sun even rose. Quiet and private moments between just the two of you that Hawkins had never bore witness to. Hazy afternoons spent under the guise of tutoring him in subjects like math and science bled into dinner dates at Benny’s, sharing milkshakes and him teaching you how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue.

He had loved you. He still loves you. And he’d been a fool, because it had never occurred to him that during those Autumnal months, more than just the leaves or just him had been falling. 

Even the warmth of all your love that he had been blind to wasn’t enough to stave off the chill that had crept in by that December. Winter was cruel. You’d both learned that the hard way. One bad argument, one stormy night, and it had all fallen apart. He’d lost you — he’d lost that ray of sunshine in his life, the one thing that should have kept him warm through icey December nights. All over something that had started off over a disagreement of future plans and unraveled into an argument over differences.

His voice cracks as he stands before you, eyes wide as he says, “Hey.”

When you look back up at him this way, it’s hard to believe that he never saw it. That love, swirling with endless depth. That quiet but firm matter of fact that you loved him, and a piece of you if not all of you always would, even after he’d shattered your heart on the ground carelessly. 

“Hi,” your voice is meek. Even after nearly a year, all it took was him being here, and you felt the person you’d worked so hard to build from scratch fall right apart, exposing all your old wounds and still-sensitive nerves. Before Eddie, you’d always seemed so sure of yourself.

He should walk away. He should leave you be. He should just live with what he’d done, the damage he’d inflicted, and let you continue to heal.

He can’t. “Is this seat taken?” 

You hesitate as you stare at the chair that his hand lands on the back of, and he doesn’t blame you. He isn’t sure he’d let him take that seat either. 

“No,” you answer honestly, clearly against your better judgment, “It’s… open.” 

There were a million other seats he could have taken. A plethora of empty tables he could have chosen over your currently occupied one. Hell, he could have even just walked out of there and let your soul rest. But for the life of him, he couldn’t. Because you’re here, and you’re only staring at him rather than cursing him with every foul name under the sun like he deserves, and all of the rotten parts inside of him are clawing out for your kindness. Like a child desperate for comfort, like a wounded animal taking shelter. 

He takes that seat wordlessly, and watches you slowly shift your laptop out from in between you two. 

You clear your throat first, offering that first olive branch, “How’ve you been?” 

He almost wants to wave your question off. He’s been giving a rare opportunity and almost can’t stomach the thought of wasting it on small talk.

“Good,” he forces the answer out, “We, uh- we got picked up as openers for a tour this summer.” 

We as in the band. The thing he’d put above you. He just might regret that decision for the rest of his days.

You’d had a college plan. He’d had a drop out plan. But you had still tried to fight tooth and nail for him; you'd given up a fraction of your reputation for him, a side effect of being associated with the freak, and you hadn’t even blinked an eye. It had been the bare minimum, at least in your eyes, but to him it had been a sign that he was nothing but poison for you. It went further than just the fact that you had your shit together and he didn’t. Once the first weak spot had his attention, all the fragile delicacies that your relationship hung on by did. He stopped ‘studying’ with you at Benny’s, choosing Hellfire Club over you. He always forgot to congratulate you on your accomplishments, whereas you never missed a beat in recognizing his. It was always him taking, taking, taking. He had watched you give, endlessly, over and over, and convinced himself that one day, he’d bleed you dry. He convinced yourself it was better to break your heart than to drain you for all that you were worth. He’d never considered your perspective of it all.

“That’s amazing,” you should be scathing, hurt and angry to have to hear about how the very thing he’d broken your heart over was working out for him. But you aren’t, and you both know you never could be; you were happy for him and still cheering him on, even after all the damage done between you two, “What’s the band you’re opening for?”

Stiff, cool small talk continues. Talk of this band that had so graciously taken Corroded Coffin under their wing. Discussions of the weather. Comments on the college you’d been accepted into, and confirmation you had been working on class work when he’d found you. You had a full ride. He tries to remember all the times you’d discussed your specific accomplishments that would award that, if you’d ever bragged about your GPA to him or any of the extracurricular activities you’d taken part in for a shiny bit on your applications. But he can’t recall them; maybe he had just gotten too jealous at the time, or maybe you’d been aware of the hurt it would have caused him and avoided the bragging rights. (It was the latter. God, he knows it’s the latter, but it hurts to admit it). 

It’s painful. So, so utterly and terribly uncomfortable. He once knew everything about you. The mundane things like your favorite song to belt out with the windows down, and the remarkable things like how it felt to feel your heartbeat pressed to his while his bedroom window was open on frigid November nights. He’ll never know that feeling again. He’ll never feel your breath sync with his, and he’ll never get the chance to not take for granted that serenity you’d always offered with open palms in his direction.

When the conversation dwindles and the coffee goes lukewarm, he knows it has to end. He’d replayed this scenario a million times — rehearsed his apologies and tormented himself with endings where you took him back. You’d forget the past and drop your guard as you welcomed him back into your arms. The night he should have vocalized his fears of dragging you down with him but instead claimed you were holding him back would be erased. His pride would become a caged animal who had spent enough time roaming free and wreaking havoc on the best things in his life. Everything would go back to the way it was. Everything would be okay again. In his mind, that’s how this should have gone.

It didn’t. But he could still offer at least one piece of his dress rehearsals to you, leave at least one bandage behind for the trouble he’s caused.

“I’m sorry, you know,” he stumbles out, and it’s not nearly as smooth as all the words he’d repeated to the mirror, “I’m sorry for the way things ended.” 

You’d loved him. Really, really loved him. And he’d taken it for granted, he had used it and discarded it for all it had been worth. 

He’d always known you were smart. You wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, even if that love still burrowed in the channel of your heart frozen in time, forever cursed to a loop of the December night he’d chosen to chew you up and spit you back out.

“Don’t be,” you smile sadly, and he sees the glimpse of the you that still loves him, that still wants the best for him. The piece of you that will always treat him better than he deserves, “We got everything we wanted, right? It all worked out in the end.” 

“Right.” 

His tongue is dry, almost swollen, heavy in his throat. 

He doesn’t know how to tell you that no, he didn’t get everything he wanted. None of it worked out in the end. Because at the end of the day, he finds that the only thing he really wants is you, and he will never have you again. You had treated him so well, had been so damn good to and for him, and he hadn’t known what to do with himself. Some foolish part of him still believes that with the knowledge he finally holds now, he could treat you better — treat you right. But he can’t. He’ll never even get the chance. He’ll never even deserve the chance.

An exchange of goodbyes. A final glance. An acceptance that even if he locked away his pride now, it had already dug its claws into you, and the scars would always remain. 

He leaves more unspoken words in that coffee shop, at that table with you and your cold latte, than he can count. You both promise to reach out to each other more often, but you both know it won’t happen.

He doesn’t sleep that night. He never does these days. 

Repentance churns his chest, a familiar friend, and demands to be felt until he can see the sun begin to rise through the curtains of his hotel room. He swears he feels the ghost of gentle lips kissing his cheeks, whispering to come to bed, but it might just be the wind. 

There may only be a small piece of you frozen to that night and all your time together, and you may still have a possibility of thawing from the cold that he left you out in, but there is no such luxury for Eddie. He’ll always be there. Repeating words he doesn’t mean, watching tears well in your eyes as he destroys everything he’d ever wished for, setting aflame the one thing he could have done right in his life.

He writes another song about it, ignores the tear stains on the paper and adds it to the collection of all the ones that came before it. 

Across the city, your pillow matches the sheet of lyrics. Tears shed that Eddie would never be able to recognize through his own smoke and ash.

Love was never something that came easily to Eddie. Regret, on the other hand, always would — always, for as long as you exist somewhere out there, frozen in December. 

“And I think about summer, all the beautiful times when I watched you laughing from the passenger side – and realized I loved you in the fall.”

#speak now (ghost's version) #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #the power it took to resist adding any more lore than what i did #this is one of my top songs on the album fuck #no one understands how badly i wanted to add a flashback to those summer times and then the mention of fall #that's one of those lines that makes my heart ache when i hear it every single time #you know what? loosely based on real events #being told i was 'too good' and 'too smart' for someone and that's why they broke my heart really has happened to me #like cool i don't really understand but cool #ANYWAYSSSS

[charlie-kellyyy]

I need the gang to release an album IMMEDIATELY. also a Charlie Day album would be very very nice as well

#they all sound so good together #like what the fuck #WHERE IS THEIR ALBUM!!!!!!!!!! #iasip #charlie kelly #dennis reynolds #mac mcdonald #its always sunny in philadelphia #dee reynolds #frank reynolds #charlie day

[jmdbjk]

The Truth Untold

I think when you are normally an optimistic, positive personality, it is more difficult to deal with negativity, especially when it originates within one's self. Speaking from my own experience, optimism sometimes feels like a force field that keeps most negativity out. But sometimes the force field fails when the negativity is coming from within.

It seems this was the case with Jimin back when he had all these feelings a few years ago.

These emotions that originated within himself affected him so much that he needed to expel them from his mind. So he expressed them through music. He gave us his very personal album filled with his own hidden feelings that he'd kept to himself. This album was so personal to him. It was his own cathartic exercise in rebuilding his optimistic force field.

We all know how difficult it is to express our own deeply felt emotions to those around us. Many of us internalize and go on. But Jimin pulled these things out of himself, crafted these thoughts into lyrics, wrote and recorded songs, and let these songs about his emotions out into the world. He showed the world his raw self.

How many of us can even attempt to speak one sentence about something deeply personal that we've kept to ourselves without fear of being ridiculed or humiliated?

So if you ever have confided something very personal to someone and all you got back was "this is how you fix it, you should have done this or you should have done that and you are being over sensitive, why are you like that..." do you see how that sounds? It is dismissive.

Those of you who are right this second as you are reading this, you are thinking "but he deserves everything, he deserved more promotion, he deserved more cake, he deserves it all, he was sabotaged, he didn't get what he deserved."

Yes, he deserves it all but the way you all go about saying those things is selfish. You are selfish. You are saying to Jimin that he made a mistake, that he was shortsighted, that he wasn't smart enough or assertive enough or that he allowed himself to be controlled by whatever big bad guy you've latched onto to justify your selfishness.

You were dismissive.

Try to remember, there are ways for us to shower Jimin with praise and love that do not involve tearing down him, tearing down his company, tearing down other fans and the other members.

When I say "tearing down" that's exactly what I mean. Jimin chose how to give us this intimate part of himself and some people told him that how he chose to give it to us wasn't the right way, it wasn't good enough, not enough promotions, just not enough to get what he deserved. He went about it the wrong way.

Jimin is a slow processor of his own emotions and of things going on around him so it has taken him some time to allow his inner over-analyzer to process everything. We've known he's an over-analyzer so it takes time for him to process all of it.

This is what this Truth Untold letter is about. He basically admits he is slow to process everything.

He admits when the #1 Billboard achievement happened, he did not understand the importance of it at the time and now that he's had time to process everything, he feels pressed to thank us now.

He apologizes for taking so long to acknowledge and thank us for loving him and showing so much appreciation for his first album which was so personal to him.

He feels our love. But he for sure saw your selfishness.

We will learn more about it all when his documentary drops next week and I feel like it will hit even harder how difficult this whole process was for him.

Just be grateful like he is.

#he deserves to feel like he did good #he didn't deserve the extra negativity that followed his album's release #jimin #jimin face #i was tempted to screen cap some of the video #those of you who are saying all of this is a knee jerk reaction to what you think you were entitled to receive #go fuck yourself.

[lucifer-kane]

Adrift in seas with a violet dawn Where meaning dies in mazes long And waves ascend with bones and teeth You twist and turn beg for relief

#saw #saw franchise #adam faulkner stanheight #lawrence gordon #saw 2004 #chainshipping #hey idk what this is honestly. it came to me and i needed to get it out on paper so woe Something be upon ye #i like how it came out tho. but pls im still learning how to draw adam idk why he's so hard to draw for me dkfjksldfj #i was gonna go in adifferent direction with adam looking half fucked up on the side of 3D lawrance but idk #idk if i wanna tag this as chainshipping. it could be. whatever ppl wanna think. it hangs in that void #also listen i had stringless oki - paul shapera on repeat for the last part of drawing this bc the album released on spotify. it's so good #this is also half the size it actually is bc it wouldn't have been able to be uploaded on tunglr........

[velvetjune]

the chapter songs in Alan Wake 2,, flawless

#they deserve more love and discussion #saying this while also not knowing what to say other than they’re so fucking good #alan wake 2 #i think it’s partially because poets of the fall’s tracks are iconic so of course they’re in the spotlight (as deserved) #but also the CHAPTER SONGS. them being made for a given chatacter(s) with the help of Sam lakes poetry #the changes with ‘this road’ by Poe with every Alan chapter. becoming more distorted and revealing lyrics and the spiral #the scratch song being 1) hilarious and 2) similar to Zane’s poetry in the aw1 arg #the emotion in superhero when saga feels lost at the story making it so Logan was gone #the lines of her feeling like a ghost in this story forming around her.. how she feels guilty and absent for both what the story’s doing #and being away from Logan because of her job. ashdhhhhjhh my heart #AND. follow you into the dark HAS to be alice. which kills me because at for at I thought of Alan #but no. Alice jumped in the dark place after him. it’s so !!!!!!!!!!! #the rabbit hole line. Alice spiraling deeper and deeper into a dream—into wonderland #the Lost at Sea one is also good. intrigues me. the Bowie and Lynch references are blatantly aw2 Zane #but it’s so similar to diver Zane and the ‘originals’ death. being lost in the dark place with illusions of escape #and losing any sense of identity. whether he’s real at all or the monster of this sea or just a lost soul. #the soft and calm vocals / instrumental really makes the whole thing #NEED to stop typing more tags because this is a Lot. however. #‘no one left to love’ is also a phenomenal song and one of my favorites from the album. GORGEOUS vocals and how it all flows together. #such a powerful and beautiful way to end a chapter #anyway that’s all I had to say :) #god. I’ve started to watch a few playthroughs of the game and 90% of people have skipped the chapter songs and every time im #that’s fair but my brain and soul might implode if I don’t see anyone else talking about how good these songs are

[whollyjoly]

for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name

nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au

(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)

Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.

It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise. 

No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.

However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.

Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone. 

But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert. 

His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury. 

Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-

Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.

Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.

Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.

Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.

After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.

Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.

And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Fucking finally.

~~

Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.

The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.

The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.

But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.

Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.

Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.

He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides. 

It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope. 

When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat. 

Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth. 

And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?

It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.

An honorable life is an eternal life.

Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal. 

They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.

This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.

months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!

(song insp.)

taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin

#happy alton more day! #holy shit im actually posting this...i've been sitting on it for MONTHS #but YEAH its just...the gothic romanticism about the physical embodiment of war and soldiers and the concept of death you know?? #what it means to feel and to live and to connect to those around you when it all feels so fleeting #fleeting not just due to the nature of war but also the nature of immortality #or something #...look i have a lot of thoughts about this story okay #it kills me #its also known in my brain as the “how immortal soldier!alton more made friends” story #because literally thats it thats the plot #OH WAIT did i forget to mention that speirs is also an immortal soldier in this story?? #oh yeah thats the best fucking bit - they met like centuries and centuries ago on the wrong ends of one of the various punic wars #(where speirs was known back then as...wait for it...TERTIUS) #its good goddamn shit okay #also explains why alton is so fucking unflinching towards speirs at any given point and why they were so petty about the photo albums #ANYWAYS if anyone wants to hear more about this!! come stop on by!!! #also yes the title is a reference to the old guard #as is the reference to the siege of jerusalem which is where joe and nicky met #immortal soldier!alton more #alton more #easy company #band of brothers fic #mine #band of brothers #bofb #hbowar #em's moodboards #em writes #jesus christ i guess that's a tag now #alright here we go out into the void

[nyctoheart]

I wish I liked Wish :/

#I watched Tangled after and realized all the ways I prefer it over Wish #Wish was just soooo fast paced I felt like I was watching a movie on 1.25x speed. no time for anything to breath. #like Maximus in Tangled was Joke-After-Joke-After-Joke #*BUT* then rapunzel and flynn had slow character-building discussions to balance the horse that didn't need jokes inserted #AND Maximus didn't speak-- so the jokes feel more clever. I laughed out loud at him hiding behind a horse-shaped rock #and idk what it is about Alan Menken's music but he is just unbeatable to me #Wish's music was so ''non-musical theater'' genre that I felt like I was listening to a real music group's/band's album #and I don't mean that in a good way... #and I know it's hard for disney to take chances on new art styles but I still feel like Wish's water-color look could have been stronger #for some reason I felt the movie didn't have good composition??? like the lighting often looked flat #I am also fucking SIICK of the last 4 disney princesses having all the same ''yikes oop srry I'm awkward!!'' personality besides Moana iirc #ENOUGH!!!

[shit-posting-into-the-void]

#oh god oh fuck #So many more songs are about ratty than I thought #But fr I love the album it's realllll good #girl I get why you are using so much mental institute imagery cause WHAT WERE YOU THINKING #taylor swift #i am unwell #ttpd #the tortured poets department #ratty healy #ratty matty #matty healy #joe alwyn #tsedit #taylornation #taylorswiftedit

[wewontbesleeping]

"sweet tea in the summer" and "you can get by on sweet tea and god's graces" and "tire swings and summer dreams, honeysuckle on the breeze, wilson county creek" and "i hit my peak at seven feet in the swing over the creek" and "still got your laugh, your ghost, your jacket" and "though i can't recall your face i still got love for you" and "you can crash and burn and come back someone new" and "before i learned civility i used to scream ferociously" and "i'm a little smarter, my heart's a little harder, but it's still soft enough to cry" and "you won't have to cry or hide in the closet"

#like what the hell is that.... she really wrote sweet tea and god's graces and was like. no. #not good enough for my album! #what the FUCK #i can't wait for debut tv #i know in my heart of hearts she'll do the right thing this time #anyways i've just been thinking this all day #ugh taylor swift and writing about the innocence of childhood and the shattering of it..........

[thekidsarentalright]

the theme in abap that gets me the most is remembering. remember me for centuries, remember when we used to split a drink? it never mattered what it was, do you remember when we drove through the night? when we danced to rancid? when i confessed to you riding shotgun, underneath purple skies?, i can't remember just how to forget the way that we danced. there's a room in a hotel in new york city that shares our fate and deserves our pity, i don't want to remember it all. i'm sorry every song is about you, i'm sorry i can't stop remembering you and i can't stop writing about you. Remembering is all i can do because i don't have you, we weren't immortal, we got what we wanted and it wasn't enough. i'm sorry i can't remember how to forget you.

#like holy shit why don't u all love this album more why dont u all see what i see GODDDD #this album is INSANE it is HEARTBREAKING. how heartbreaking is loss that you can't do anything about? that you can only remember? #genuinely there is something so heartaching about abap that no other fob album has idc... not for better or for worse than any album tho #abap is just so special. i love it so much it's such a good underrated fucking album #txt #p: 100 #theme in abap

[fionnaskyborn]

Was tagged by @oceancamp to post my current five favorite songs! (They should invent a stages-of-grief-esque model that encompasses and accurately describes both types of anguish I had to go through making this list - the one of limiting myself to only five songs, and the one of trying to put as little videogame music on here as possible so that I don't end up looking like an absolute goddamn geek, which... I am... Oh well!)

Thank you so much for tagging me - here are the songs!

Heaven Pierce Her - War Without Reason

Tatsuro Yamashita - Love Space

This specific arrangement of Death And Republic + Meet Again

Winger - Junkyard Dog (Tears On Stone)

The Protomen - Light Up The Night

Is it courtesy to tag other people after you've been tagged in a post like this? If that's the case, I'll tag @spiralled-fury, @solradguy, @swamppossum, @five-by-five, @northstarring, @ineedmoredragons and @tbonechessor!

#logs #ya don't have to participate if you don't want to‚ from what i've gathered - it's all just for fun anyway :] #The link to Yamashita's song is actually a link to a website that hosts city pop songs‚ since those keep getting taken down on YouTube due #to the strictness of Japan's copyright laws with regards to music. Uploads of Yamashita's songs in particular get taken down quite #frequently... The rest are either Bandcamp or YouTube (in case of Junkyard Dog) links #Very out-of-character of me not to put a Кино song on here‚ haha #I had a hard time deciding whether to put HOLD BACK THE NIGHT or Light Up The Night here‚ but ultimately decided on Light Up The Night #because... hoo boy #okay storytime. i've known of the protomen since somewhere around 2021. got The Good Doctor in my recommended feed‚ clicked on it because #i thought the album cover was cool + the title was appealing‚ but i never really listened to anything theirs beyond that song after that. #fast forward to 2022. be me‚ watching the greatest videoessay on planet earth (Steak Bentley's Metal Gear Solid 4 Was A Mistake). #the fucking MONTAGE comes on‚ and I fall in love with my second Protomen song. second fast forward to 2023 going into 2024‚ finally got #around to playing the Violence update. i learn of the name of level 7-2. the widest‚ most mischievous grin appears on my face. #i enter the level‚ proclaim ''ULTRAKlLL IS NOW A STEAK BENTLEY REFERENCE'' and blast the song as i get my ass beat by every single thing in #that level. #and let me tell you. getting mollywhopped ten thousand times by the FUCKING GUTTERTANK TRIO AT THE END OF THE LEVEL WAS. not a pleasant #experience. but the song made it better. :) (i played the level before the balance patch came out and uh let's just say i had more deaths on #that level than on 2gabe and 1gabe. SEVENTY-FOUR. FUCKING. RESTARTS. JESUS /CHRIST/. #goodness how i yearn to make a 3d animation of v1 going through 7-4 with that song in the background as a tribute to the man himself but #alas i am a student who has everything in the world but time #thanks for the tag again!! ^^

[vergess]

I think it's extremely funny that Taylor Swift just beat the gay allegations so completely, and her new song is playing out an intox kink with Florence Welch

#Automatic OP tag #You have to consider the production timeline she works on. This song must have been pitched prior to the recent flare up of gay allegations #And this is so incomprehensibly funny to me #I have my many many many many criticisms of Ms. T. Swift #But I will give full credit to the artistic integrity of whatever happened here #Good for her #Florida by Taylor Swift #Taylor Swift #Florida!!! #Florida!!! (Taylor SWift) #The Tortured Poets Department #Wait what the fuck is this album title #I ONLY JUST READ THIS #WOW #SHE REALLY SAID HERE TRANSSEXUAL BESTIES EAT UP #Florence Welch #florence and the machine

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

#I mean my joints at 31 are struggling to keep on rollin' like they used to #imagine in my fucking 80s #find me rollin' thru the nursing home halls with the walker. tennis balls on the front legs and all #like I'll keep being a good little limp bizkit soldier... but Fred... good sir... please let me know when we can stop rollin'. #my frail old bones creak and I fear I can't do this much longer. #Oh... What's that Sir Durst? Just keep rollin' into the grave? [**peasant bow**] Of course your royal Durstness. I do as you say. #Limp Bizkit #nu metal #Song: Rollin' #Album: Chocolate Starfish and The Hot Dog Flavored Water #Fred Durst #Wes Borland #John Otto #DJ Lethal #Sam Rivers #down the rabbit hole

[iero]

Gotta be honest with y'all: Gloom Division still has not grown on me...

#personal #I love you IDKHow so much. I appreciate Dallon so fucking much though. #Like I just tried it a second time and I was still like 'Meh...' at a full listen. #Disappointing to me because the singles that were released before the album were good especially Gloomtown and What Love? #I'm sure y'all can disregard this in a couple months when I'm sure I'll probably come around to it.

[honeyvenommusic]

❗️NEWGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSAN-

#glass animals #honestly i wore out dreamland sm my brain took a lonnng break from expecting anything from them?? idk i’m just huh???? #like….. when i say wore out #i cannot describe how much i listened to it #i usually have some vague idea even if it’s a ridiculous number #like 52 times in a month for an album or something (has happened) #i cannot recall w this #gonna say bc 2020 & they were Literally the last band i saw live. next morning everyone found out about everything annd lockdown. no joke #so it was big dreamland time when it dropped and revisiting their past albums when i broke out of its spell lmao #(pretty sure before that like january was when i listened to déjà vu 100+ times in a row tho so oop. it was a tough day lol) #anyway seeing this aww man. i really have had this band with me for a long long time. 🥹 i remember hearing gooey on the radio one night #driving home from work late @ night in 2014. the drive was so short i couldn’t be arsed to fish out my ipod & plug it in #sometimes so just popped on a good station i had preset. started the car and heard this *voice* and i was like who???? #had to check the station bc it was an alt station and i thought i had it on another one which was fine i was just v confused #it was in the middle of the song & i was immediately anxious to know the name hoping i’d hear it & it wouldn't just flow into the next song #then the dj would pile the names together after x number of songs played bc i was tiired (but woulda stayed in the car ngl). got lucky & #ran inside to find it then yelled at my roommate the next day that she HAD to listen to it during a smoke session after work #(i was right & it blew her miiind) #god. what a fucking time. what a fucking band. idk what the disc horse is surrounding them now since they blew up via tiktok #i’m sure people are v quick to say they’re overrated bc of that but idk & i’m glad i don’t know. they’ll always be this #highly inventive incredible band i stumbled upon for the perfect night drive home after a long long shift #a band that came back from a Horrible accident that should have ended 1 of their lives & somehow didn’t & should have ended them #as a band (like still cannot believe Joe was drumming in 2020 & i saw it with my own eyes like how tf???!?) #a band deserving of all of its successes. glass animals forever