#it's called songs about leaving

[moss-wizard]

@yourecreepysalem tagged to shuffle 10 songs. Cheers!

[raineyraven]

just watched vide noir (2022) and i have to say the tragedy of a man whose love leaves him because he wasn't what she needed him to be, who through his journey to find her again became the man she wanted him to be so that he could get to her, only to reach her and find that it's too late to get her back, who grew and changed in his quest for someone who was always going to be out of his reach and he didn't know it until he'd undergone that change?? that shit fucks oh my god.

[the-ghost-king]

Of Tender Death and Perpetual Care

markus zusak, the book thief // tweet by @petfurniture // gustav klimt, mother and child // jk. rowling, harry potter and the deathy hallows // andrew wyeth, perpetual care // ocean vuong, on earth we're briefly gorgeous // oscar wilde, the canterville ghost // henry scott holland, death the king of terrors // markus zusak, the book thief // hugo simberg, the garden of death // markus zusak, the book thief

[jdmara]

shane is so kind

[tennessoui]

au where obi-wan gets prophetic dreams of anakin’s fall but they’re the kenobi show montage dreams where nothing useful can be gleaned about how to stop it; so obi-wan decides he just needs to leave the order. anakin is only 12, he can be trained by another master. obi-wan didn’t even have a master when he was 12. anakin will be fine. stars, he’ll probably be better.

of course he’s not and of course obi-wan abandoning him pushes him closer to palpatine and he falls much sooner, becoming a baby sith that palpatine mostly farms out to dooku for training because anakin at 16, 17, 18 is a lot

and when he falls, the jedi order is like hm. we’re gonna tell kenobi about this. cause now skywalker is a sith with a sith master, and a grudge the size of coruscant against the guy who left him, so. let’s just give him a heads up to maybe consider going into hiding

but of COURSE when obi-wan hears his precious padawan STILL FELL he goes right to count dooku and asks to be his apprentice, he’d make such a good apprentice, dooku always liked him when he was qui-gon’s padawan, remember? now he could be his apprentice

dooku knows that with skywalker, 19 and well-trained now in the picture, his usefulness to sidious is running out, so he doesn’t have a lot of reasons to say no to kenobi. and kenobi is right. he did always like him when he was qui-gon’s apprentice, so sure he’ll give him a sith name (solence) and a red lightsaber (sick)

but basically this leads to very awkward sith family dinners where darth vader--is trying to kill darth solence with his eyes and sometimes the nearest oyster fork, darth solence is throwing sad kicked puppy expressions across the table at darth vader and sighing into his dessert pudding all the while debating with darth tyranus about how good the dark side could really be, i mean, if one were to really think about it, especially in comparison to the life we all led at the Temple, remember anakin? you loved life at the Temple.

darth sidious stopped accepting the invites five dinners ago.

[youredreamingofroo]

The Passenger (2023) dir. Carter Smith // NEVER AGAIN - MICHELLE

[ceasarslegion]

Trans man: i made this art about my dysphoria growing up and how i have to catch up with all the years i lost to it. Im using metaphors for puberty even though im in my 30s because it feels like i have to start all over again. I blatantly call myself a boy, a man, and use he/him for myself in this art.

Tumblr users with pride flags in their bio, foaming at the mouth: ummm theyre... theyre cringe for other reasons guys. Theyre just a creep. Theres just SOMETHING about THEM i dont like. They give me BAD vibes... theyre a piece of shit i think.

[missjoolee]

if you could only see

*read tags for fun facts. mostly written while half asleep. not edited.

"Oh," she says, the corners of her mouth drooping into that familiar frown that accompanied the majority of his high school career. She sets her mug down on the coffee table.

Oh? A similar frown is quick to replace the elated grin his face had adorned when he arrived. "'Oh' is what people say when they get socks on their birthday, Mom. Not when their son tells them that he's engaged!"

"It's just..." she hesitates, as if looking for the correct words. "...you're still so young."

"I'm almost 22. I--"

"Exactly! Only 22!" Emily interrupts. "How can you be sure?!"

"What?! Mom! This is Julie we are talking about!" Luke can't sit still and stands up from the couch. Resentment builds within him. Why can't she ever be supportive from the get go?

"Well.. You've only ever had the one relationship. You can't know what you want really, never having experienced other relationships."

His mouth drops open in disbelief. She cant honestly be suggesting what he thinks she might be.

"I thought you liked Julie!" His hand flies up with the statement, emphasizing his frustrations.

Emily stands, no longer able to remain seated as the conversations heats up.

"Luke, Julie is lovely. And lord knows she's done you a world of good, but you could really benefit from dating around a little!"

Oh, so she is saying what he thought she was saying.

He let's out a humorless huff of a laugh. "Are you insane? You think I should give up the best thing in my life, a sure thing, on the chance I might find someone that can make me just as happy somewhere down the line? Yeah, that math doesn't check out."

She is getting visibly agitated now as she takes a step closer to him.

"Julie will always be your teenage girlfriend. Your relationship will never be more than that of children!"

"God. Do you hear yourself?! Julie's not in her teens anymore. Our relationship has grown with us. We have supported each other through personal growth, and continue to challenge each other to be the best we can be! We've already been there through hardship together." Luke leans into Emily's  personal space, not wanting to back down. It's a familiar dance at this point, these arguments with his mom.  That thought gives him pause but he never drops eye contact.

His mom claims that Julie would prevent him from flourishing as an adult, but in this moment,  with Emily, he feels the most like he's a kid again in the worst way possible. Suddenly, he feels very tired. He takes a step back with a sigh.

"You're unbelievable." His normal volume voice sounds quiet after the heightened pitches from a moment before. He turns and heads for the front door. There is no point in staying.

"Luke? Luke! Get back here!" Emily follows after him. "Most marriages at your age end in divorce! I'm just trying to help you not make a mistake that will ruin your future!"

Luke's at the door but he spins suddenly to face Emily one last time. "It's not a mistake, mom! If you could just see all the ways she loves me, maybe you would understand why I feel this way. How I know this is the right thing to do."

"But Luke--"

This time he interrupts her, not caring to hear anymore of what she's likely to say. "I mean, if you could see how bright her eyes get when she says she loves me. I just.. " Julie's smile, eyes full of mirth flashes in his mind, replacing a lot of the angerfilled responses he wants to shout at his mom. "There's no way being with her could ever be a mistake."

He opens the door and steps outside. "If you can't be happy for us, don't bother joining in on the celebrations."

He closes the door behind him. His mom might have tried to say more but he honestly couldn't care less anymore. It's time to head home. Back to the welcoming arms of the woman he loves and can't wait to marry. She makes him a better writer, and a better man. She supports him and his dreams more than his mom ever has. This exchange has proven that all his mom will ever be good for is giving him great song ideas. But the one starting to ruminate in his brain this time promises to be a lot happier than Unsaid Emily.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

hmm thinking about the idea of love songs. i think the idea of what a love song is that we have in our culture is inherently a little bit flawed because we have the idea that any song written about romantic feelings is a love song and im thinking thats not exactly true because there is a difference between "romance" and "love". what i'm saying is not that love is a broader category and applies to things that are not romantic in nature. this is in fact true, but it's not what makes the important distinction here. the true distinction between "romance" and "love" is that romance is a societally defined type of interest in another person, whereas love is, essentially, a promise that you make when you build a relationship.

as such, what i call "love" here might be better defined as "care", as that implies more time and effort, but that's a different suitcase to unpack and largely unimportant to my point here, which is more about the societal conventions of what we call love songs. the point is, relationships can be built with other people, yes, but also animals, places, organizations, ideas, so on and so on, whereas romance requires another person, hence the difference between the ideas of "romance" and "love".

with that in mind, there are two types of songs we in western, english speaking, society call "love songs":

1) songs that are about a person's romantic interest in someone that is either definitively known to be unrequited (existing monogamous relationship, sexuality that doesn't align, etc) or simply not requited (aka romantic interest being unknown); and

2) songs about an existing relationship (keeping in mind my points about relationships not just being with people, but also places, things, etcetera) as is.

(some examples of the latter category: mountaintop by relient k, which defines the relationship in question as non-romantic; or i miss my mum by cavetown, which is - as the title implies - a song about the singer missing their mother.)

now, the thing that makes distinguishing these two difficult is the fact that songs about an existing relationship CAN be about wanting certain aspects of that relationship to change. in these cases, determining that a song is one or the other will hinge either on a) authorial intent or b) whether the song is more about what the singer wants (thereby implying #1) or the lack thereof in that relationship (which would imply #2).

to get back to the subject at hand: the term "love song", as we think of it, is an umbrella term that include both of these two categories, and i think that perhaps it is reductive to do so. with that in mind, i think perhaps it would be more appropriate for "love song" to mean only the latter, whereas the former is a category of its own. WHICH is not to say that the two can't overlap — just that if a song is about a person with whom the singer has no relationship, it cannot be considered a love song due to the fact that it is a song about infatuation, not love.

(another interesting wrinkle this provides is the fact that a song might start out in the first category and, as the writer develops a relationship with a person, might move into the second category as they write more.)

[lalaballa]

Silverscreen

Two-faced Johnny, hotel lobby I won't go up without you Plated boots, lipstick rouge Jack on the edge of champagne fruits Misdemeanor, gossip cleaner Overacting table reader Ego driver, loose-lip liar Driving my head ill [••••]

Surface tension, I won't mention Liar, liar, liar, ha Dancing finger, constant linger Driving my head ill

Coup de grace

Running the circles through, right back to you Finding at the finish line, nothing new The let-down that sticks like glue Slipping through my fingers gripping onto what is left of you

Waiting for lessons learned, taking turns The loudest of them all, left to be unheard My story lacks in the facts That it's so absurd So come on, coupe de grace

Shavambacu

Ghost eyes sleep beside my baby doll

All night when I'm in bed with you

Sunrise never sets on baby doll

Her ghost tears, some call it rain

Well I'm crying for just one name

I can't stand to see another day

I'm not in L.A. to have my way with you

My little darling shavambacu, oh honey I love you

Killing the joke

Interstellar, dressed in leather, drinking bitter boy You know the plan but you never knew the ploy But I, I live a lonely life Since you been gone I left the TV on Let the milk go sour, let the bills pile up But I, I know I'm a funny guy

[interview with Coup de Main, 25 Sept. 2018]

[setevulpo]

i was thinking about the archangels and how fucked up being possessed by one of them would be and this was created. headcanons on what each (non-bloodline) vessel would go through while possessed! bon appétit

-

michael

their vessel runs hot, grace a constant thrum under the skin that imitates a heartbeat well enough for those unaware not to notice. the blue glow that takes over their eyes upon the slightest provocation calms only when their enemies are on the ground, enochian seared into what’s left of their skin once the light dies down.

the heat that follows them shapes the air into wings too big for the space they’re in, even in the most expansive fields earth has. they have to watch out when stepping on grass, or stretching their wings too far into the trees, or fire will follow them too.

eventually it starts to burn, whatever body they’re in. the grace running through its veins turns closer to lava with each passing day, flares deep inside its chest and expands down to its hands when their anger rises. bruises showing up in blues no matter how old they are, burns in its skin hot to the touch.

a smell of fire and smoke follows them when they leave the vessel, and they set ablaze anything in their path on the way to a new body. the largest fires are caused by their rage, charred eyes and hearts left behind on their path.

-

lucifer

there's something freezing under their skin, somehow encompassing entire rooms and digging into the skin of everyone around them. the air around them is cold enough to kill, frostbite reaching others before turning their own vessel's hands red with it. its lips are bitten red and raw because the taste of blood is almost intoxicating.

garbled enochian slips through in a constant downpour, because they are an angel and won't taint their tongue with a human language despite the way it burns their vessel's mouth. the easiest way to find them is following the trail of frozen footsteps and the scent of rust so strong it can be tasted.

the hypothermia that sets after some time is what leads them to find a new body, when the one they are wearing becomes too sluggish and their grace starts slipping through the dry cracks in its skin. all that's left is a cold body with its eyes frozen shut.

the earth bleeds on their path, water freezes red by being in their proximity, plants burn and die from the frost. their grace whips through the air and leaves bloody slashes in the skin of anyone who dares get in their way, the wounds never closing completely.

-

raphael

their electricity can be felt under the skin of their vessel, sometimes shocking those who try landing their hands on it. their presence makes people’s hair stand on end, their voice resonates through the room in a way that makes it impossible to ignore. the fissures that appear on its skin from one day to the next are eerily similar to lightning.

the eyes of their vessel gain an unnatural brightness, something fiery that is just wrong when compared to the decaying state of the rest its body. their words flow in a way that’s almost hypnotic, calming until the next strike of their blade.

an ill-suited vessel can’t hold them for long. the tremors starting in its hands show that, as do the bouts of dizziness that hit them every so often. by the time their vessel starts losing its sight they have a new victim picked, their electricity having already eroded the brain of the previous.

it seems as if thunderstorms follow their grace, both rain and lightning falling close but never hitting them. wildfires start in their wake, raindrops never quite reaching their destination, and the injured miraculously recovering in hours.

-

gabriel

there’s a wind hiding under their skin, usually unnoticeable to the common eye. they’re light on their feet, eyes travelling through every corner of the room they’re in, the air around them somehow feeling heavy with the power they chase. at times it blows stronger, the whole of them looking longer, bigger than their vessel, but it doesn’t last long anymore.

their vessel’s skin grows dry with time, tearing open with each snap of their fingers, grace pouring from its hands and giving life to lilies wherever it falls. all of their vessels’ hands are burnt by the time they leave, skin too fragile to handle their grace.

erosion is what kills their bodies, the debris that always seems to fly back towards them easily chipping away at flesh and bone. what’s left of the body after they take their leave isn’t enough to keep it alive, not with the dust coating its lungs.

tornadoes follow the path of their grace, leaving destruction and chaos between their vessels. they are angry, and they are frustrated, and the mayhem they create is the singular way they can be heard. the debris lifted by their rage is flung as far as their grace can reach.

-

[semperama]

I miss the era of the fanmix.

[giantkillerjack]

ur post about queerbaiting and the dismissal of people in fandom to critical analysis is so incredibly true thank you. i feel like marcille's writing in the anime has been super misogynistic a lot of the time and every time i bring this up all anyone wants to say is "well maybe this isn't for you! and you shouldn't watch the show!" like. i don't think this is about taste lmao, i am analyzing the text in front of me and coming to conclusions about the craft of it.

[This is in reference to this post]

YES!!! THANK YOU!!!!!

It is so so frustrating!!!!

It's like being at a restaurant and being served a bunch of delicious appetizers, but then one of the bread appetizers is literally just a plate of crumbs; and then when you're like, "Hey, uhh, why are we being served literal crumbs?", a bunch of the other folks eating at the restaurant are like,

"WELL HOW ABOUT YOU JUST DON'T EAT HERE THEN??!? YOU MUST NOT BE THAT HUNGRY, SO JUST FIND ANOTHER RESTAURANT AND DON'T EAT WITH US!!"

And maybe they say it politely, but "Aw, sorry, maybe this restaurant just isn't for you 💖" is just trading out an aggressive dismissive tone for a patronizing dismissive tone. It's the same message.

And it's like! I was honestly happy to move on from the crumbs once my complaint was acknowledged because the meal overall is still delicious, but then all these folks got SUPER WEIRD AND DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT, so now I find myself double-checking all the other dishes -- and, actually, you know what those eggs DO look a Iittle misogynistic undercooked!!!!

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 27

"Long Time Gone" by The Chicks

[wayfinderships]

AUUUUUUGH! I miss my little guy your honor!! I miss him so damn much!!!

[dykrophone]

middle/high school me didn't form parasocial relationships with celebrities they formed serial parasocial relationships with random lesbian 20-something bloggers with a penchant for being 24/7 haters on increasingly obscure platforms (often that they had abandoned years ago) and would stay up till like 4am every night reading their posts from like five years back and collecting the Lore