#and now i rest where disappointment and regret collide lying awake at night

[daffythefox]

Deatch Cab for Cutie songs about avoidant attachment styles my beloved

[monoma-neito]

Transatlanticism is trying to kill me. It's dragging me into some alleyway in Bellingham and beating me over the head with acoustic guitar and Ben Gibbard's voice.

[chiriwritesstuff]

Hometown Glory; Chapter 2 Sneak Peek!

Series Masterlist │ Read Chapter 1 Here!

Our favorite boy has a dirty little secret...

Chapter 2 - Title and Registration, out soon!

Chapter Title from 'Title and Registration' by Death Cab for Cutie

I was searching for some legal document As the rain beat down on the hood When I stumbled upon pictures I tried to forget And that's how this idea was drilled into my head 'Cause it's too important to stay the way it's been But there's no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night

(Sneak under the cut!)

In moments when Frankie is feeling particularly weak, he finds solace in letting his mind drift. It's become somewhat of a habit lately, a quiet retreat from the turmoil of his everyday life. Typically, he reserves these mental escapes for the late hours of the night, lying on his side of the bed with only the soft glow of his cell phone illuminating the darkness, peering over his shoulder, making sure Chelsea was facing the other way, knowing damn well he was playing with fire with what he was about to do.

He couldn't help that even though it's been years, his thoughts still pathetically drift to you.

He feels a pang of embarrassment admitting it to himself, but he can't deny that he knows your Instagram handle by heart. It was a chance discovery, a random tag on your sister's post, five years ago—a snapshot of you both, smiling as you cradle a newborn baby in your arms.

Hometown Glory finally making an appearance, your sister's caption read, Who knew I had to birth a whole ass baby for this miracle to happen?

But it was the tiny icon at the bottom left of the photo that caught Frankie's attention, his breath catching. He presses on it almost too excitedly, slowing his trigger finger at the last moment, preventing it from accidentally liking the post and blowing his cover.

But still. 

Maybe it's because he's curious.

Maybe it’s because he wonders if he can remember the placement of moles that are scattered along your face, down the span of your neck like a constellation of stars he's mapped out in his memory.

Maybe it’s because he’s been so fucking lonely, and that you were the last good thing to ever happen in his life before his daughter came around.

Series Taglist:

@ashleyfilm / @danaispunk / @imdrinkingpedro / @yxtkiwiyxt / @lilyevanstan1325

@kungfucapslock / @critfailroll / @maried01 / @misstokyo7love / @missladym1981

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine / @brittmb115 / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @darkheartgatita

[poursomesunaonme]

HEY BITCH>:)))) treating myself to some lovely geto angst<3 (that whole statement is just so alarming to me now that i reread it). let’s go with “title and registration” by death cab for cutie heheh. lyrics: “…when i stumbled upon pictures i tried to forget / there’s no blame for how our love did slowly fade / and now that it’s gone, it’s like it wasn’t there at all / and here i rest where disappointment and regret collide, lying awake at night” go make urself cry<3

heheh hEY BITCH!!! sorry im so annoying yall i thought i’d slide right in at the end of this event hehehe

cw: heavy angst no comfort, major character death & manga spoilers, suggestive themes

your hand freezes mid reach. his smiling face beams up at you. rain pounds on the windshield, effectively muting the thrum of your heart in your ears.

his face hasn’t changed a bit, which of course it wouldn’t, being a photograph. somehow, you had expected any other visual of him to look unfamiliar and strange. but those same laughter lines still deepen on his face. his eyes still crinkle with the force of his radiant grin.

and you can’t move. you’re frozen to the spot, stuck in your seat, halted by his sudden reappearance in your life, albeit in the form of an old polaroid.

the officer gives you a ticket and you let him drive away from behind you. the rain continues to pour around your vehicle, the sweet smell drenching the concrete.

and suguru still smiles as your fingers close around his frame. you’re just barely in the picture; it’s only half your arm and a peace sign that made it in. satoru had offered to do the honors, but unfortunately for you, you had hurt his pride earlier in the day, so this was how he retaliated.

it’s funny how the same man made the move that eternally kept you from your soulmate.

the tears that fall from your eyes match the pace of the rain as you slam your foot on the gas pedal. the tires peal loudly on the wet concrete for a few moments before your car skids forward. the jerky movements would have scared you under normal circumstances, but no pain could match the wound that had just reopened in your heart.

the picture kisses your chest as you tuck it into your shirt to keep it protected from the rain. the warm mattress is a welcome comfort after you strip down from your soggy clothes, collapsing in a weak heap of sorrow.

you press a kiss to the film, but it’s no use - suguru will never feel the warmth of your lips again. he’ll never take you out for boba, or buy you tickets to the toy cranes that you’d like to play for hours until he got you a stuffed animal in one try.

he’ll never skip out on responsibilities on you when you both desperately need a mental health day; he’ll never practice braiding hair under your strict guidance; he’ll never lay his claim on you in the middle of the night.

the shocking reminder of your lover’s untimely demise suffocates you there, as you lay curled up with his picture pressed against your heart.

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.

[riseofthecommonwoodpile]

And there's no blame for how our love did slowly fade. And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all. And here I rest, where disappointment and regret collide, lying awake at night.

[soybeantree]

pairing: grimreaper!do kyungsoo x (reader) genre/warning: fluff if you squint word count: 3k+ description: sequel to ‘revenant’. your life with kyungsoo comes with an unnatural amount of challenges.  a/n: july installment...in december (don’t ask) of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is gone’ series. we know it’s the holiday season. we know this is spoopy. BUT we have finally reached year 2, which means sequals to a lot of our kyungsoo stories...or so i’m told. -em

Your father always said that life as the cemetery’s caretaker comes with more problems than benefits. Weird work schedule, no social life, constantly surrounded by the dead. You find little in your life to contradict him. Your current predicament only lends credence to his belief.

Waking up in a coffin without a body should startle you, but your father had also warned you this might happen. He had even had you spend afternoon’s in a coffin so you would understand where you were if or when it happened. Ghosts will always try to return to the world of the living. He had told you countless times. They have unfinished business; otherwise, they would pass on.  

As caretaker, you have a connection to the dead. You can see them and communicate with them which comes in handy when you need them to stop destroying the hedges and defiling the mausoleums, but the connection also opens you to possession. Possessing the living is difficult for ghosts though, even with a connection. However, last night you had broken one of the cardinal rules of being a caretaker. You had gone to bed drunk. 

You had come home after a long night of work to an email from the City Council with a list of complaints about your work. The flower beds needed weeding on the west end. Ivy had overgrown several prominent crypts in the east end. The walking paths by the north gate had unsightly cracks. The list went on and on. The City Council likes to forget that you are one person who can only work at night. All the other caretakers they have hired quit within the first week, and the Council wishes to maintain a pristine image of the cemetery for tourists which means that all work done must be done out of sight of them. 

Halfway through the list you had popped a beer. You finished the first one before the clock struck eight. By noon, you had finished the remaining beers in your fridge and felt much better. You could laugh about the two malevolent spirits from the night before and the tornados of fury they had unleashed on five plots a piece. You reread through the Council’s demands, adding colorful commentary about what they could do with their list.

A competent caretaker would have stayed awake until they sobered, but a competent caretaker would have also stopped at two. You passed out on your couch which is why you were currently waking up in a coffin.

You sigh again. Your father will be so disappointed when he finds out. He was the previous caretaker and had gone his entire career without ever being possessed. He taught you because it was a necessary lesson of a caretaker, but he had patted your head and told you he believed you would never need the lesson. If you could bang your head against the coffin’s lid, you would.

As lying in the coffin will do nothing to aid your situation, you will yourself to rise through fake silk and mahogany and six feet of dirt into a new night. The cemetery awakens around you, familiar ghosts rising from their graves. They float with ease down paths as they go about their business. You struggle to move yourself down the path to the south gate which is blessedly close to the grave of your body snatcher. 

“Can it truly be? A ghost has stolen our dear caretakers body.” The gleeful exclamation breaks your concentration and you stutter to a stop. Of all the ghosts to see you in this state, it had to be her. 

You ignore her as you resume your journey. She floats circles around you, continuing to grin but maintaining silence. On her third trip around, you stop and raise your hand, staring at it. You wonder. She stops in front of you and chuckles. Hand extended, you place it on her cheek. It stops, unable to pass through. The place where hand meets cheek feels like the chill mist which rises from a waterfall but solid. Her brow furrows as you pull your hand back. Realization brightens her eyes, but too late. Your hand collides with her face and sends her flying feet from you.

She whines, a high pitched wail which has surely sent a chill rushing up some passerby's spine. 

“For what reason, do I deserve such treatment?” 

“I have a long list, but I’m certain you know what most of them are.”

Her nose scrunches up and her lips purse, but she keeps her peace. With a huff, she floats off.

You allow yourself a moment of pleasure. Being possessed is unacceptable for a caretaker, but it has a benefit. You have wanted to slap her for years.

After much struggle, you reach your house which rests near the cemetery. You glide through the door and head for the study. In the Caretaker's handbook, there is a section on what to do if possessed. You read it when you were young, but years have stolen much of the information from your memory. 

The book sits on the middle shelf in a middle bookcase in the study, eye level with you. The peeling spine with its faded black script taunts you. The dead affecting the dead is an easy task, but the dead affecting the living world takes years of practice and a deal of determination. Your hand swipes through the book over and over again as your frustration mounts. You shriek. A gust of wind rushes through the room rustling the pages on your desk, but the book remains locked in its spot. 

Aside from you, no one in the city can see ghosts. There’s a girl down the street who might be able to hear them, but once her ears open, she can never close them. You will leave her to her oblivion. No one should have to deal with the constant pestering of ghosts. You make another swipe at the book with no hope and no alternative. 

“Do you require assistance?” 

Another benefit to add about being possessed: no blushing. Also no shivering. No indication of embarrassment or attraction. 

Spinning like a ballerina in a music box, you face Kyungsoo, your cemetery‘s designated reaper and your first crush. The answer is ‘yes’, but you’d rather him go away and pretend he never saw you in this state. “Do you know how to reverse a possession?” 

He blinks, the gesture odd on his solemn face. After a moment, he shakes his head. “I have never had to deal with a possession since becoming a reaper.”

You nod. Of course, you would be his first possession. “In that case, could you grab that book?” You point at the guide. When he does, you direct him to set it on your desk and consult the index for the section on possession. Page 74. He flips the pages and settles it before you. 

“It seems simple enough.” You muse. “Find my body. Remove the spirit. Re-enter my body. You can remove a spirit, right?” A glance at Kyungsoo negates your simple comment. “What?”

“I can remove the spirit with my scythe.” The large metal hook shimmers into existence on his back when he starts the word and disappears again when he finishes. “However, it would be a permanent removal. A spirit guilty of possession does warrant such punishment.” His voice is soft, and you can sense the ‘but’ he leaves unspoken.

Kyungsoo, like you, has a soft spot for wayward ghosts. Rather than send every malevolent spirit to hell, he attempts to coax them back to themselves. 

“Then I’ll have to convince it to leave. Which shouldn’t be too hard if I can figure out what it’s unfinished business is.” Kyungsoo’s brows furrow. “It’s easier than you think.” You shrug as you glide past him, your movement less stilted now but still difficult.

“As caretaker,” you continue, pausing in front of another bookshelf. “Can you grab the last book on the third shelf?” He does and sets it by the Guide. “It is my responsibility to catalogue each plot and document its resident. Open it at the bookmark. The grave I woke in is fairly recent, probably in the last year. Flip back a few pages. Stop!” Your finger hovers over the page as you scroll down the list of names. “This one.” Lee, May. Buried June fifth. About six months ago then. Beside her name is the superscript III. 

Gliding over to yet another shelf, you scan for the corresponding notebook. “Can you…” The request peters out as you glance back at Kyungsoo. His dark eyes shift between the book on the desk, you, and the bookshelves around you, and you can imagine the cogs in his brain turning as he puzzles the pieces together. 

“Cataloguing their name, date of death, and resting spot is the responsibility of a caretaker, but why notate about their lives?” He asks. 

“My grandmother taught me too.” You pause as grief stirs. Even as a ghost, the emotion rises. She moved on. No lingering regrets kept her tied to this place. Kyungsoo, himself, saw her off. 

“She said a proper caretaker knows her charges; otherwise, she can’t do her job properly. Dad didn’t see the purpose in it.” Your gaze shifts to a shelf with one growing volume. In what little free time you have, you have started to go through the burials in his time and record the details of the dead. 

“Your grandmother was a great caretaker.” Warmth fills his voice, or perhaps jealousy is fueling your imagination. Kyungsoo has been the cemetery’s reaper since before your grandmother’s time. She was a great caretaker. She loved her work, and, unlike you, had never shirked her responsibility. 

“Yes.” You say because the alternative is an awkward silence. “Can you grab this one for me?” Without a glance back, you indicate the notebook with the corresponding III. His arm reaches past you, his body against your back. You wish you could feel his presence. 

He sets the notebook on the table and opens it to the date of her death. You read through the entry, ignoring him and focusing on the task at hand. May Lee left behind a husband and a son. The son is twenty-four. The quick sketch of his face at the bottom of the page resurfaces the memories from that day. 

Even though the funerals occur during the day when you sleep, you drag yourself from your bed to attend. From a distance, you record the key points of the event, mainly who comes and how the new ghost reacts to their farewell. Mrs. Lee had stood beside her weeping son throughout the entire service. Her face had been a mess as she had reached for him. She had grown more and more distraught each time her arms passed through him instead of wrapping around him. 

“Her son. Whatever her reason for possessing my body is, it has to do with her son.” You snap your fingers and miss the satisfying sound of the click. “Can you turn the page? His address should be on the next page?” Kyungsoo does. Closing your eyes, you picture the words and repeat them to yourself.

“Would you like me to bring the book with us?”

“Us?” Your eyes snap open, and you stare at him.

He nods. “I will accompany you. Unless you no longer wish my assistance.”

You could write a check list of your body’s reactions to this moment and are again grateful that your spirit lacks the ability to create any of them. “I mean if you’re not busy.” With a smile, he closes the book and tucks it under his arm before waving you onward.

Kyungsoo matches your snail’s pace. With each block you pass, your irritation rises, and you begin to realize why most ghosts only haunt the cemetery. Even if you had better control, it would still take forever to get anywhere around town and beyond. “Can ghosts learn how to ride in cars?” You ask as another one whizzes down the road.

“Yes, but it takes great concentration to maintain a solid enough form and often results in sightings which lead to Grim Intervention.” You nod in understanding and keep trudging forward. 

A chill like the first breath of autumn air settles on your hand, and a glance reveals Kyungsoo’s wrapped around it. His skin has no texture, no solidity, but it holds yours. He pulls you along beside him. 

“I suppose I should have known that a reaper could affect the dead world as well as the living.” 

“If my assistance insults–” He begins to pull away, but you tighten your grip, an odd sensation like trying to grasp the wind. 

“It doesn’t. I appreciate it, especially if it means I’ll get to my body faster.” Though you are enjoying the time with him. “We both have important duties waiting for us.” The cemetery comes first.

The son’s house sits at the edge of town. A monstrous structure of red bricks and white columns and far too many balconies. Despite the late hour, several cars still circle the fountain at the driveways center. Lights shine through the windows, and you catch the shadows of figures as they pass in front of them. 

Kyungsoo pulls you through the front gate and up the drive to the glittering building. You pass by groups of people as you traverse the mansion’s halls, searching for your face amongst the unfamiliar ones.  Deciding that May must be with her son whose presence is also lacking from the assembled guests, Kyungsoo leads you up the stairs, a feat impossible without him. Your ghostly form responds well to front and back and left and right, but up and down prove difficult. 

The second floor breathes an air of relief, the crowds unwelcome in this private space. It begs the question though why the son would be alone up here with so many guests below. You pop your heads into the rooms as you pass. They are stale with emptiness. If you were human, you would shiver, but as you are, you sigh and walk past. 

Turning a corner, a pair of doors greets you, light lining its bottoms and sides. In front of the doors, your body stands. A hand hovers over the knob.

“He won’t recognize you.” You call, startling the figure. “You’ll just be some random, crazy girl.” May stares back at you, your face paling whether because of you or the reaper is left to the imagination. “We’re not here to harm you. I just want my body back.”

“My son-” Your voice breaks, the sound stiffens your spine. You refuse to cry in front of others.

“I know you miss him. It’s not easy to let someone go, but this is dangerous. If I was here with any other reaper-”

“I promised him.” She cuts you off with another sob, covering your face with your hand. The sight roils your stomach. 

The cool breeze of Kyungsoo’s touch settles on your shoulder. They ease as you meet his eyes and acknowledge the unspoken words. You glide back as he walks forward, stopping a few feet from her.

“May, please come with us. You hurt your chances standing outside his room, engaging in a one-sided conversation.” His low voice eases hand from mouth and calms shaking shoulders. She nods and places your hand in his proffered one. 

One of the empty rooms offers a safe place for conversation. May begins, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have taken your body, but I promised my son.” The words quaver on a sob, and you fold your ghostly arms to keep you from doing something regrettable. You need to coax her out and random displays of aggression won’t help. 

“He became engaged when I was admitted to the hospital.” She continues once she has calmed again. “He told me I had to get better, so I could come to the wedding. I promised him I would and that I would tie his tie. He’s always been awful at it.” A sniffle and a smile punctuate the statement. “The wedding is tomorrow.” Tears pool again. Sympathy wars with annoyance, so you fix your attention on Kyungsoo. The eerie serenity of a reaper holds his features in place as he awaits the story’s conclusion. You force your features to mirror his. “I want to keep my promise. I had no intention of stealing your body when I came. I only wanted to asked for your help, but-”

“You saw an opportunity and took it.” You shake your head. Any ghost would have. A caretaker courts danger during every moment of their job. A good caretaker prepares for it. Both your father and grandmother drilled this fact into your head, and you had failed them. Despite your annoyance at her for such a disgusting display of emotions in front of Kyungsoo, you understand. Your grandmother made many promises and passed without warning. She would have never attempted a return, but you wish she had. 

“No matter your reasons, your actions are a damnable offense.” So much for coaxing her out. 

You suppress the accompanying moan, the sound unseemly on the eve of a wedding. Your attempts to gain Kyungsoo’s attention and redirect the conversation fail. His focus remains solely on May. “The longer you remain in this body the more you will draw the notice of other reapers.” 

A shudder shakes your body, and again you try for his attention in vain. “For your sake, you must leave. We will find a way for you to keep your promise to your son.” He holds his hand out to her while you gape at the both of them. Why even come along if he was going to go with the brutally honest approach. 

May’s hand rises from within your body. The spectral fingers grasp Kyungsoo’s, and he pulls the rest of her out. Your body falls limp to the floor, a creepy shell with lifeless eyes. You blink, and the eyes blink back at you.

Closing your eyes, you mimic the inhale of breath. The Guide had said in order to return you must remember the feel of your body. The way your chest expands with each gulp of air, the weight of skin upon bones, and the steady beat of your heart in your veins. Opening your eyes, you look up at May and Kyungsoo from the floor. As you sit up, you take stock of your body, wiggling fingers and toes and stretching muscles. 

“I didn’t expect it to feel so weird.” You muse, pushing yourself off the floor. Your legs wobble beneath you, and Kyungsoo grabs your arm to steady you. His solid hands are cool still, but the thrill of an autumn breeze is missing. 

“It will feel normal soon enough.” He promises.

Whether he’s right, only time will tell. In the meantime, you have a promise to keep. “How are we going to help her tie her son's tie? I have no idea how to do it, and I doubt he would want a reaper doing it.” You continue to lean on Kyungsoo as you glance between him and May. 

“May will walk you through it, and you will help him to see her.” His confidence is nearly strong enough to make you confident, but not quite. 

“She can make me visible to my son?”

Your “no” contrasts with his “yes”, and you stare at each other in a silent battle. Your grandmother and father trained you in all the abilities of a Caretaker. Neither of them had mentioned the ability to make ghosts visible to the living. You communicate this through your glare while Kyungsoo returns it with quiet confidence. “How?” You finally mutter, pulling your arm from him to fold it across your chest. 

“Through your will. As a caretaker, you are a bridge between the living and the dead.” 

“And as a grim reaper aren’t you the same?”

He shakes his head. “I am a gateway for the dead and am able to affect the world of the living because the dead do.”

“Please.” Your protest dies on your lips as May rushes towards you, her sad smile full of hope. She reaches for your hand, her fingers passing through it but you feel them comb through your palm. You shiver. “Will you try? I can teach you how to do his tie.”

Holding her gaze bolsters the shred of confidence Kyungsoo instilled. “How do I will it?”

“You already are.” 

As you watch, color returns to May, her body solidifying before you. The light from the chandelier above still casts no shadow, but the wall behind her is lost to her form. You grasp her hand. The skin is soft and will give under the slightest pressure, but you can feel it. 

“Creepy.” You whisper. An odd word for a caretaker, but today has been an odd day.

The rest goes easy, or as easy as telling someone that their dead mother is going to keep her promise through you and then making their dead mother appear before them can be. The fact that her son knows about you from rumors around town does help though. After the initial shock, everything does go easy. The next day May’s son allows you to tie his tie while she stands visible beside you. 

Her promise full-filled, May faces Kyungsoo ready to pass into the beyond. But Kyungsoo allows her another mercy. The three of you stand at the back of the wedding hall to watch the union, and when her son glances back after his first kiss with his wife, you will her to appear. She waves, her face beaming with joy. You smile, and when you glance at Kyungsoo, you find a smile on his lips too. 

[thefigureinthecorner]

i made a joan/owen playlist woooo

first image is a softer world edit that i made right after tama but never posted; second is the playlist cover that i used the last panel for

playlist notes under the cut ✌️

general note: it’s mostly owen being sad whoops, i made a lot of this with the conversations from tama in mind

also i have a playlist masterpost and i definitely wrote notes for this playlist there but i’ve also added a lot since and idk how i feel about those notes anymore so i’m just. rewriting everything

share your address- ben platt: i think there was a patron stream that made me put this on here but i definitely feel like he’s someone who loves, like, the little things about being in a relationship. no big, grand plans or whatever, just being able to make someone breakfast and share a space with them and understand them

the bird and the worm- owl city: so there are some lyrics in this song that fit in a really terrible way and we’re not gonna get into those here but if you know, you know. aside from that though this is one of the softer songs on the playlist and it’s there for p similar reasons to the previous one, with some added fun fish puns

atlantis- seafret: Maybe I'm not built for love/If I knew that I could reach you I would go/It's in my heart, it's in my head/You can't take back the things you said

better with you- jason mraz: owen’s a better person with joan around. that’s why he asked her to come back to the am in the first place; he didn’t trust himself, not alone. also: I'm better because you give meaning to the words "I love you" is such a soft line

flaws- bastille: You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve/And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground/Dig them up; let's finish what we've started

this could fit a lot of tbs ships honestly but to me it feels most like a joan/owen song? so it’s here

white blank page- mumford and sons: Oh tell me now, where was my fault/In loving you with my whole heart/Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life

quiet light- the national: the whole thing gives me owen vibes directly post-breakup i think. like, i may not know how he reacted to it, but i do know he loves joan a lot and... yeah.

title and registration- death cab for cutie: There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade/And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all/And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide/Lying awake at night

better- ben platt: the whole song. it’s just the whole song. i can’t quote just one or two lines because it’s the whole. damn. song.

two- sleeping at last: this song makes me sad when i think about them honestly, it’s like. despite the fact that he knows joan will probably never love him again he still loves her and he’s not going to let that love go. he just loves her for the sake of loving her, knowing that’s not going to be returned.

also the last two lines of the section i shared make me sad for uh. Different Reasons. tama reasons.

Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every single thing I have Like a tidal wave I'll make a mess Or calm waters if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached It's okay if you can't catch your breath You can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest

reminder- mumford and sons: again, the whole song, and actually like all but two or three songs on this album fit the two of them really really well so choosing only two songs off that album was difficult

you can do better than me- death cab for cutie: this one definitely reminds me of the conversation sam and owen had in am archives 13; There's times I think of leaving/But it's something I'll never do/'Cause you can do better than me/But I can't do better than you

tompkins square park- mumford and sons: somehow i forgot to list this song on this post but it’s just. so good for them

I only ever told you one lie When it could have been a thousand It might as well have been a thousand

But no flame burns forever, oh no You and I both know this all too well And most don't even last the night

in between- linkin park: there’s a lot about this song that works, especially from owen’s perspective i think, but the part that i love a lot is: Fear is not afraid of you/But guilt's a language you can understand/I cannot explain to you in anything I say or do/I hope the actions speak the words they can

over you- ingrid michaelson ft. a great big world: p much the only duet song in the entire playlist, and the fun and cool and not at all painful part about it is, it works as a pre-canon owen or a post-tama joan song!!

it’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday- jason mraz: again: pre-canon owen or post-tama joan, and it’s on my tama playlist as well as this one for a reason; I don't know where this road/Is going to lead/All I know is where we've been/And what we've been through/And if we get to see tomorrow/I hope it's worth all the wait/It's hard to say goodbye to yesterday

i don’t wanna love somebody else- a great big world: again, another song that reminds me of the sam and owen conversation in tama 13; Oh, I shouldn't go on hoping/Oh, that you will change your mind/And one day we could start again/Well I don't care if loneliness kills me/I don't wanna love somebody else

[bunnywand]

hey girls

did you know that.. um.. 😳 the glove compartment is inaccurately named and everybody knows it so i’m proposing a swift orderly change because behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm and all i find are souvenirs from better times before the gleam of your taillights fading east to find yourself a better life, i was searching for some legal document as the rain beat down on the hood when i stumbled upon pictures i tried to forget and that's how this idea was drilled into my head cause it's too important to stay the way it's been but there's no blame for how our love did slowly fade and now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all and here i rest: where disappointment and regret collide, lying awake at night 😳

[the-music-dealer]

Death Cab for Cutie - Title and Registration (Transatlanticism) 

I used to listen to this song a lot when I was going through a particularly lonely point in my life. This is abandonment issues in song form.

“The glove compartment isn’t accurately named And everybody knows it So I’m proposing a swift orderly change ‘Cause behind its door, there’s nothing to keep my fingers warm And all I find are souvenirs from better times Before the gleam of your taillights fading east To find yourself a better life.”

“It’s too important to stay the way it’s been There’s no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it’s gone, it’s like it wasn’t there at all And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night.”

[nothing-is-manageable]

It's too important to stay the way it's been There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night.

Death Cab for Cutie, “Title and Registration”, Transatlanticism

[thesoundofsimple]

I liked this, would have liked Conor’s voice mix turned up a little louder but you can hear him just enough. One of my fav songs, but one of the most brutally sad songs i know too. 

And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night, up all night

[not-music]

Title And Registration by Death Cab For Cutie from Transatlanticism (2003)

The glove compartment is inaccurately named And everybody knows it. So i'm proposing a swift orderly change.

Cause behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm And all i find are souvenirs from better times Before the gleam of your taillights fading east To find yourself a better life.

I was searching for some legal document As the rain beat down on the hood When i stumbled upon pictures i tried to forget And that's how this idea was drilled into my head

Cause it's too important To stay the way it's been

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all And here i rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all And here i rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night (up all night) When i'm lying awake at night.

[transatlanticismus]

a beginning.

this is a beginning, a new start. the first blog where I allow myself to write down any thought I may have, or dreams, or anything. it will be filled with stuff. like a diary.

how do u start a new blog? you create a new account, you click a few buttons and voilà! but what does one (me) write? I feel like a successful business person, proudly writing down their memoirs.

I'm neither successful nor proud. I'm just some angsty teenager trying to get rid of a jumbled and mixed-up mind. there are some things I love that tell a lot about me.

I /adore/ music and cinema and literature. any art form will manage to excite me lol

my friends say I'm the mom friend

I kinda cry a lot (because of various reasons, let it be actors, a small bird I saw or my cat doing something cute)

I speak four languages ( German, French, English, Spanish)

¡hola argentina!

my cat has the same name as the president of the United states and my dog is named after a Swedish cow lol

I tend to give too much information

I love food. any food.

basketball is fun, but most of my teammates suck

the name of this blog comes from the song 'Transatlanticism' by Death Cab For Cutie. it's the most heartwarming and heart wrenching song I've ever witnessed. it's the love of my life. the stars of my sky. the sun of my universe.

let's get started.

"And now that it's gone

It's like it wasn't there at all

And here I rest

Where disappointment and regret collide

Lying awake at night"

- Title and Registration, Death Cab For Cutie

[benjaminikuta]

Title and Registration

The glove compartment is inaccurately named And everybody knows it So I'm proposing a swift orderly change

'Cause behind its door, there's nothing to keep my fingers warm And all I find are souvenirs from better times Before the gleam of your taillights fading east To find yourself a better life

I was searching for some legal document As the rain beat down on the hood When I stumbled upon pictures I tried to forget And that's how this idea was drilled into my head

'Cause it's too important to stay the way it's beenThere's no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night, up all night When I'm lying awake at night

[sushifresse]

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all And here i rest where disappointment and regret collide Lying awake at night

Death Cab for Cutie

[onlyaftersilence]

the glove compartment is inaccurately named, and everybody knows it. so i’m proposing a swift, orderly change. ‘cause behind its doors, there’s nothing to keep my fingers warm. and all i find are souvenirs from better times, before the gleam of your taillight fading east to find yourself a better life.

i was searching for some legal documents,  as the rain beat down on the hood, when i stumbled upon pictures i tried to forget. and that’s how this idea was drilled into my head.

‘cause it’s too important to stay the way it’s been.

there’s no blame for how our love did slowly fade. and now that it’s gone, it’s like it wasn’t there at all. and here i rest where disappointment and regret collide.

lying awake at night.