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sergeifyodorov · 3 months

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hmm i was scrolling through Twitter earlier and as the designated leafs blog in my mind, what are your thoughts on fraser minten? like he’s so interesting to me because in the narrative i’ve created of him he was tavares’ fifth child but then was our balanced by knies being better, but then wjc happened and he still couldn’t crack it. now he’s on the blades (one of the best whl teams i think??) very interesting

NARRATIVELY he's definitely The Tavares Child -- okayyyy so. Sew. this New Generation of leafs (imho starting at Knies and including Easton Cowan as well as minten) kind of... each parallel a member of the Core: Knies is Auston's child (Arizona boy, big strong forward), Cowan is Mitch's child (London Knight, small winger with endless energy) and Minten is JT's child (Captain anywhere he goes, known for maturity and intelligence)... william child + morgan child ->

anyHWAY the real life scouting report under the cut (not too long i don't think)

Minten's a high second-rounder, which is the type of player that's generally designated as an "upper maybe" NHLer -- by which I mean odds-on he'll get NHL games (as Mints has) but it's less likely he'll become a serious full-time player (although many a second-rounder can and does do so!) The most interesting thing about his draft position was that the Leafs, under Kyle Dubas, traded DOWN to get him -- we had a low first-rounder, then traded it to Chicago to get rid of the Mrazek contract and got the pick that would become Mints in return. Many a source says that Kyle wanted Mints anyway and would have taken him with the first-round pick.

The general consensus is that Mints tops out as a middle-six centre, a 3C on a good team or a 2C on a worse one (or a 1C on the Boston Bruins.) His ceiling is probably about 40 or 50 points, maybe more depending on how much power-play usage he gets.

However, it's also noted (and was pretty obvious to me, even watching him at the WJC -- which I'll get to in a second!) that his real value is not and will likely never be in point production. He's a natural centre, good-to-great at faceoffs (a skill that he learned in part from JT!!) and very good defensively. Because he's still a kid, plays a bit physically and tends to be involved in the play at both ends, he probably takes a few too many undisciplined stick infractions, but these things of course can be straightened out with time and wisdom. Also, he's a touch of a personality hire: he was the youngest A on the all-timer Kamloops Blazers last year and was pretty much immediately named C after the Leafs sent him home this year; he was named captain of the CANADIAN WORLD JUNIORS team with zero other experience playing for Canada on the national level. He plays the piano! He's smart, polite, doesn't cause a fuss, wise beyond his years. Takes a guy far.

Anyway, the WJC: just an absolute hackjob by the coach and one of those years that really demonstrates that Hockey Canada still thinks it can get ahead by being Canada (the ol' throw bodies at the wall shtick) and not, like, because of its actual quality of development. I think bowing out when they did was a bit unlucky, but they absolutely were NOT primed to win it all -- especially because the coach basically seemed to have no concept of... line construction? or anything of the sort? Like he just tossed players together from a hat once (1) and decided they were just going to play out the tourney like that -- no real concept of "x is the playmaker, y is the shooter, z is the forechecker" or "these three are the transition line that take d-zone draws and use their speed to create rush chances/o-zone draws" or even something so simple as "this defensively-minded, slower centre is perhaps not the best match for the winger notorious for being opportunistic and shooty." Also, not to put too fine a point on it but a player can have a bad WJC and it doesn't mean anything, or a good WJC and it also doesn't mean anything -- Jesse Puljujarvi rose his draft stock by a good chunk in 2016 by having a FANTASTIC WJC, and he's currently on an AHL tryout. It's a small sample size, mostly played with teammates they barely know and against competition about a half-step up from what they're used to. Weird statlines happen.

Back to MINTS because we're still talking about him. Yess currently he's on the Blades -- traded from the Blazers because the Blazers are garbage and they want to Do Right By The Player and put him on a competitive team (done for two reasons: one, because it can be demoralizing to be the best player on a bad team, and two, because being on a good team in juniors often means you get actually good-for-your-development linemates and usage). He was generally not expected to make the Leafs at ALL this season (I mean, 20-year-old second-rounder, right?) and cracking the roster out of camp, even though he only got three games and has a rather blank statline is SUPER impressive. I'm pretty sure this is his last year of CHL eligibility, after which he'll probably either get put on the Marlies for a year to keep cooking or he'll make the Leafs again and stick around. Either way, he's slid twice I think so we burn a year of his ELC.

and my opinion of the boy? I love him. Let's go baby leafs baby leafs forevar

#asks #fraser minten

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hischierdevils · 1 year

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Moth to a Flame | J.M.

note: inspired by this song

summary: you and john have always been drawn to each other but now it may be too late for him to do something about it

warnings: angst with a fluff-ish ending (it may or may not rip your heart out @rowdyhughesy)

wc: 2.5k

Like a moth to a flame

I'll pull you in, I'll pull you back to what you need initially

It's just one call away

And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me

But this time I let you be

John sits in his computer chair, picking at the arm rest as his mom goes on about something that’s happening in his hometown of North Easton. His brother Paul keeps asking his mother questions, keeping the conversation going so John doesn’t have to, something Paul has done since they were kids.

The Marino family tries to have a video call at least once a week and it seems like their mom, Jen, feels the need to give the boys an update on every single person in their hometown. There’s only one person that John actually wants to hear about though, and he waits patiently for his mom to bring up their next door neighbors.

He can still remember the day that you and your family moved in next door to him. It was the summer before third grade. He was outside in the driveway with Paul, shooting pucks at a trash can when a big uhaul pulled into the driveway next door. Their mom had told them that a family bought the house next door and they had a kid the same age as them. They were hoping for another boy to play with.

They hadn’t expected you to climb out of that big truck and walk right over to them with your hand on your hip. They were both staring at you with mouths wide open as you flipped your hair over your shoulder and gazed at them both appraisingly. “Are you trying to play baseball with that thing?”

John had looked down at the hockey stick in his hand, wondering how you could confuse it for a baseball bat. Paul, the outgoing twin, was already speaking up. “You’ve never seen a hockey stick before?”

“Why would I ask if I knew what it was?” You were quick to sass Paul back and John found himself laughing at his twin's expression. No one had ever given it back to Paul like that.

From that day forward, John was in awe of you. That first summer, more often than not, the three of you playing outside each day ended with you and Paul in some sort of argument. You’d leave to go back to your own yard in a huff but you always made sure to say goodbye to John.

As the three of you grew up, you and John grew closer than you did with Paul. You confided in him about everything, he was your best friend. Both twins were protective of you as the three of you entered high school but anyone with eyes could see that there was something special between you and John. Both of your parents would even joke about your future wedding.

When John chose to join the USHL during senior year you cried and begged him to stay. You reminded him that he promised to take you to your senior prom. You knew it wasn’t fair, but you weren’t ready to let him go yet. He didn’t want to leave you or his brother, but he chose hockey. Paul ended up taking you to prom.

There wasn’t one big moment when John realized that he was in love with you. He just woke up one day and realized that he always had been. Watching you live your life through social media instead of being with you in person hurt him more than he thought possible. He often wondered who you were confiding in while he was gone.

You texted each other every day, but he could feel you slipping away from him. You attended Boston College while he and Paul went to Harvard. With his hockey schedule, he couldn’t give you the attention he wanted to or that you deserved, so he never said anything about his feelings.

“...and I was talking with Michelle the other day…” John snaps out of his thoughts and lifts his head up at the mention of your mom’s name. “She told me…oh I shouldn’t tell you.” Jen purses her lips in a laugh and John leans forward, knowing his mom is keeping something big a secret.

“Now you have to tell us, Mom.” Paul laughs. “Can’t just leave us hanging like that.” John nods in agreement and their mother laughs.

“Okay, but you can’t say anything to y/n!” John’s stomach does a little flip at the mention of your name. “Promise me!” Jen looks at her two boys through the computer screen expectantly.

“I don’t even remember the last time I talked to y/n, ma. It’s been a couple weeks at least.” Paul says.

John swallows a lump in his throat. “I promise.” He had talked to you just last night on the phone. If you had news why wouldn’t you tell him? Why did he have to hear it from his mom?

“Well, Michelle told me…” John realizes too late that he probably doesn’t want to hear whatever his mom is about to say. “Ethan stopped over the other day and talked with her and Greg. He asked for their permission to marry y/n!”

John’s blood turns to ice. Ethan. The guy you started dating your senior year of college after John had gone to the NHL. John’s only met him a handful of times and he seems like an okay guy, but marriage? Were you actually going to marry this guy?

“Isn’t that exciting?” Jen prompts when neither boy speaks.

“Uh, yeah. Great.” Paul is rarely at a loss for words. He glances at his younger brother nervously. John’s never mentioned his feelings for you to anyone but of course his twin knows. “Do you think she’ll say yes?”

“I uh, I have to go.” John says quickly before his mom can answer. He looks around his desk, trying to come up with an excuse and spots his empty container from dinner. “The boys and I are going to dinner.” Paul sees right through him but his mother wishes him well and says goodbye.

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

John can’t help himself and immediately pulls up your instagram, checking to make sure there is no engagement announcement. The last post on your page is a picture of you, him, and Paul at Christmas. The three of you are wearing matching Christmas pajamas and you’re standing between the twins holding up the elf dvd you insist on watching every year. Your caption reads ‘my favorite time of year with my favorite people’.

The picture before that is a picture of you with your parents sitting at a Devil’s game. You’re wearing John’s jersey and holding a sign that says ‘#6 my favorite baseball player’. He has to scroll a little bit to find a picture you posted of you and Ethan.

It’s a simple birthday post from last summer, you’re both on a boat. He has an arm around you, smiling at the camera. You’re pressed to his side but the smile on your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

To further torture himself, John clicks on your tagged photos. While you barely post to your instagram account, Ethan and your friends use it regularly. All Ethan posts are pictures of the two of you, some of them are just pictures of you with long captions that read like a love letter to you.

Your friends have also tagged you and Ethan in pictures. He finds one from Halloween. The two of you are dressed up in what is supposed to be a couple's costumes but he's dressed as Mario and you’re dressed as Princess Daisy. It makes John laugh, thinking of all the times you beat him in Mario Kart as Daisy. He always picked Luigi.

He puts his phone away before he does something stupid like call you. The two of you talk every day in some form or another but since you ended your late night phone call last night, he hasn’t heard from you at all. Even his good morning text went unreplied this morning.

Deep down he knew that Ethan had to be a good guy for you to stay with him for three years. He heard from his mom and friends from back home about how well he treated you and how in love with you he was.

What’s funny is that no one in the last three years had ever mentioned to him how happy you were. If you were in love with Ethan or not. Any time you came to visit John or watch one of his games, you were always with your family or the Marino family. You never brought Ethan.

Were you going to say yes?

But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

John stayed up longer than he should’ve, hoping you’d call. He never went an entire day without talking to you, even if it was just a quick hello. It was getting close to eleven when he finally started making his way to his bedroom. He had practice in the morning and he could already tell that he was going to be tired.

He brushed his teeth and then peeled his shirt off. He plugged his phone into the charger and was just about to take his pants off when there was a knock at the door. “Who the hell?” He muttered as he walked toward his apartment door. Mikey and Nate both lived nearby so he assumed it was one of them stopping in although the late hour made no sense.

When he opened the door, all the breath was knocked out of him. The last person he expected to find standing in his doorway at eleven pm on a Thursday night was you. He could tell you had been crying. Your eyes were puffy and you had red splotches all over your face. The black dress you were wearing was fancy and your bare feet told him that you did at one point have heels on. If he didn’t know any better he’d say you were on the run.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He asks once he finally finds his voice.

You try to smile at him but end up sniffling. “Hey, Johnny. Can I uh, can I come in?”

“Of course.” He steps aside and lets you in, closing the door firmly behind you.

You don’t walk very far into the living room, twirling a piece of hair around your finger nervously. “Did I wake you up? I’m so sorry I should’ve called.” You mumble as you take in his half-dressed appearance.

“No, I was awake.” He can sense your nervousness. “Did you drive all the way here?” It’s about five hours from North Easton to Hoboken with traffic.

“Yes, I, uh…” You try to laugh but it comes out as more of a sob. “I just got in the car. I didn’t know where I was going at first but then I just sort of ended up here…” You trail off as you look at him, gauging his reaction.

John keeps some distance between the two of you, keeping his hands in fists at his sides so he doesn’t reach for you. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Seeing him so full of concern for you gives you the confidence you need to get your next question out. “Are you and I always just going to be friends?”

The question weighs heavily on John who opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on: “What?”

“Ethan proposed to me tonight.” Anger and jealousy hit John at once and your words feel like a physical blow as he realizes the girl of his dreams is going to marry someone else. “He took me to a fancy dinner and ordered a big bottle of wine for the table-”

“Y/n, I don’t want to hear this.” John admits as he backs away from you. Every word you speak is another knife getting stabbed into his heart. “I can’t.” He’s always been a shoulder for you to cry on, but this is too much.

“Johnny.” Your voice is soft and he jumps a little when you place your cold hand on his bare forearm. “He got down on one knee and gave me a long speech about how much he loved me and then asked me to marry him. Do you want to know what I said?”

There’s tears in his eyes as he forces himself to look at you. Unshed tears are shining in your eyes as well. He’s hoping with everything in him that you said no.

“I said your name.” You shake your head with a laugh. “This wonderful man got down on one knee for me and the only thing I could think of is the boy I've loved since I was eight years old.”

John stares at you in shock, unsure if he heard you correctly as you start to cry. “Do you want to know the worst part? He forgave me! He still wanted me after I said your name. And what did I do? I ran out of the restaurant. I got in my car and I drove to you.”

He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as you sob into his bare chest. Your words replay over and over in his head as he rubs your back. The only thing I could think of is the boy I've loved since I was eight years old. You’ve been holding on to the same feelings that he had all these years? He realizes that you had five hours in the car to yourself. You could’ve turned around at any point and gone back to Ethan. You chose to come to him instead.

“Everything’s going to be alright.” His voice is quiet as he tries to calm you down but you still hear him.

You take a deep breath and pull away from his chest so you can look at him. “There’s something here, isn’t there?”

John brings his hand up to wipe a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “I think I've been in love with you since that first day when you talked back to Paul.”

You laugh as you remember the first time you met the twins. “You were always so quiet. I didn’t think you liked me at first until I realized you were like that all the time.” John pulls you into him again, resting his chin on your head as you nuzzle into his chest. “I made a mess of things didn’t I?” You mumble.

“As long as we’re together, we can figure the rest out.” He assures you.

Tag list: @cellythefloshie @nowandkeiei @hughesmedicine @huggy-hischier94 @diary-of-jj @cole-mcward48

#john marino fic #john marino imagine #john marino x reader #my writing

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herb10 · 9 months

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Justin and Easton meeting Cory Linsley's newborn twins 🥹

📸 (c): @chargers

#justin herbert #la chargers #los angeles chargers #nfl #training camp #2023 season #easton stick

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the-football-chick · 9 months

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Chargers rookie WR Quentin Johnston catches a pass from backup QB Easton Stick at training camp. Johnson, out of Texas Christian U, is 6'4", 215 lbs.

IG: chargers

#nfl #los angeles chargers #quentin johnston #nfl rookies #wide receivers #easton stick

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siriusblack-the-third · 16 days

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Matching Misfortunes: Peter Pevensie

I binged read and watched the Narnia books and films, and idk what possessed me but I wrote. so. Let's go. Please check out the other parts for the other siblings!

Peter’s skin itches.

He heaves even breaths through his nose as he leans back to avoid the sloppy punch Easton throws at him, and stops himself from going for the throat for the third time in half as many seconds.

This is the fourth fight he has gotten himself dragged into since term began on Monday. It is Wednesday today, and Peter’s blood pounds in his ears, through his limbs and his flexing fingers as he holds back; doesn’t hit hard, doesn’t go for the liver or the heart or the head, does not give into the bloodlust that whispers siren songs of battle and blood-covered blades in his ears. He stops himself, clenching his fists and dodging the abysmal hits from the three boys that surround him, and refuses to lift a hand against these insolent children.

He is a King.

He is a boy stuck in a schoolyard brawl he did not start.

Peter’s skin itches.

He wants to claw it off— he imagines that this is what snakes must feel when their body gets much too big for their scales, and they have to go through the painful process of shedding their outer layer and come out stronger and larger. He suppresses a grim twist of his lips as he kicks out— harmlessly, wrestling against the lust that sings a song of death in his ears— at that idiot Michael’s knee to send him sprawling to the ground with a yelp, and thinks that what he went through was rather the opposite, really. He grew up, and then was forced into a body too unfamiliar, too awkward, too inexperienced. Too young.

He was a King.

He is a boy stuck in a body too unscarred to be a King’s.

Kenneth lunges forward to try and grab him around the waist. Peter easily steps out of the way, the part of him that is a seasoned warrior clawing to the forefront of his mind simply to scoff at the graceless flailing of limbs that these children call fighting. Lucy could do better.

Lucy did do better, twelve years ago. Or maybe it was five years ago.

The timelines blur together, in his mind; he can no longer tell whether he is in England or Narnia. He is wearing his school uniform and he is wearing his royal garments, he is walking the halls of Westbrook County Boarding School and he is walking the halls of Cair Paravel. He holds the blunted school practice broadsword in his hand and he holds the razor-sharp Rhindon in his calloused hands, he is a boy and he is a King.

“Fight back,” Easton snarls, dark brown hair falling out of its previously carefully styled place, and Peter thinks of how he has seen scarier Mice dig their teeth into the throats of Minotaurs and suck them dry of blood. He blinks, and the image of him sinking his own teeth into Easton’s throat flashes across his mind’s eye. He blinks again, and he’s back on this makeshift battleground where the mice are gone and his sword is gone and he is in clothes too uncomfortable and the skin is stretched taut over a body that is not really his—

“Fight back, Pevensie, you coward!”

High King Peter the Magnificent of Narnia, Commander of the Armies, Emperor of the Lone Islands, the Lionheart Warrior King, Protector of the People, wants to grab him by the throat and shatter his jaw into a thousand pieces for that grave insult upon his character. Instead, he laughs in his face and sticks out his tongue, like a small child.

He is nineteen, and he is thirty-three. He is not a child, in either world.

Sometimes, he wishes he was. Sometimes, he wishes he was thirteen and in his mother’s home, he wishes he had never left for Professor Diggory’s mansion.

Most times, however, he wishes for something he has almost given up hope for, something he was forced to give up five and a half years ago. He wishes, oh so dearly, for a faithful sword made of mithril in his hand and a heavy crown woven out of golden flowers on his head. He wishes for one last chance to step out of this world that was once his but no longer is, and into a world where he was once High King Peter the Magnificent, Commander of the Armies, Emperor of the Lone Islands, the Lionheart Warrior King, First of the Beloved Four, Protector of the Narnian People.

Easton yells as he lumbers forward, and Peter, too embroiled in old memories of running his fingers through the unicorn Ethrys’ snow-white mane while galloping through grassy fields, does not see the punch coming until it is too late. The loud smack of knuckles against flesh echoes through the school courtyard, and the impact of the heavy fist on his cheek is like an electric shock to his senses.

For a second, he blinks dazedly. And then his brain registers it properly. The pain flares, and with it so does blinding hot bloodlust.

‘Fine,’ he thinks as he lifts a hand to wrap his fingers around Easton’s forearm in a death grip, a high-pitched whistle echoing in his ears and red creeping into the edges of his vision as it zeroes in on the many weaknesses in the three boys’ defenses. ‘You want a fight? You’ll get one.’

It takes him four seconds to get the three imbeciles on their backs, one howling in pain from a dislocated shoulder, the other because of a broken nose and the third from a bruised kidney. His fingers flex around the hilt of a sword that he no longer owns, and he reminds himself that he is not allowed to kill, not in this world where he is not a King and does not lead wars.

He stares down at Easton, the image of a blood covered sword and a slain warrior at his feet flashing behind his eyelids when he blinks. He opens his eyes and the boy stares back, hand clutching his shoulder and face becoming paler and paler the longer Peter holds his terrified brown gaze.

“Don’t bother me again,” he says flatly to the three of them, and turns away, ignoring the teachers that are hurrying across the lawn with yells of his name tumbling from their lips. He lifts his gaze and locks it with Edmund’s for a second, brilliant blue meeting identical brilliant blue, before both of them turn away. One royal brother melts into the crowd of students without a whisper, and the other stalks off towards the dorms with blood on his ever-bruised knuckles and memories of a different world singing through the veins of a body that is too young for the mind it contains.

He is a King, celebrated and honoured for his services to a hallowed land.

He is a mere boy sitting on the roof of the boarding school, fingers flexing around the hilt of a sword that no longer belongs to him, nothing more than a memory he cannot let go of: a memory he refuses to let go of even after five and a half years.

#peter pevensie #the chronicles of narnia #lww #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #the pevensies #pevensie siblings #narnia #amrut writes #narnia meta #my first time writing for this fandom so uh. lmk what you think!#matching misfortunes #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie

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jherb10 · 2 years

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Ok Easton..we see you 👀

#Easton sticks #nfl #los angeles chargers #football #chargers

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sunflower-fields070 · 8 days

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so- I found this song and decided that I was gonna cave and do a breakdown of the lyrics and why it's c!Icarus coded.

The song chosen is "This Is Love" by Air Traffic Controller.

(THESE ARE ONLY THE LINES I HAVE CODED MYSELF)

“You're no good, you're no good

You could kill me and you should”

This during the season 2 prison duo incident, with Icarus keeping Centross in the prison. Centross saying that Icarus isn’t a good person and so is he, and that Centross should be killed by them based on everything that’s happened.

“I'm an idiot for thinking

This was anything but blood”

Centross again, and still in that prison incident from season 2, where it’s Centross realising the reasons why Icarus was doing what they’re doing. Can also be taken as season 3 current brothers, where Rae is realising what Icarus is doing with Fable.

“You must like being the victim

You've done nothing to get out

Of this pattern of pain”

Icarus still being stuck in the cycle of pain, and sometimes not bothering to get out of it and just moping around.

“You'll forgive me if I promise

And do nothing but the same”

Icarus saying that they won’t do those things again, and yet still doing them again and again, breaking everyone’s trust.

“This is life until death

Could be my last dying breath”

Centross saying during the drunk stream that he won’t be around much longer, this turning out to be true from the Cathedral stream.

“Forget everything you used to know

I think you better tell your friends to go

Stick around 'cause I'm about to show you

The beginning is the end”

Each reset, and when a new villain arc happens for Icarus, everyone else has to scatter and try to figure new things out because it didn’t work like the first time.

“Yeah, I know wrong, I know right

But I just love to pick a fight”

Season 3 Icarus saying they know what the wrongs and rights are of what’s happening, but they prefer the fight as a main solution (which the arguably never succeed in)

- Can also be taken for season 1 corrupt!Icarus, how they always fought with everyone except a few (Easton, occasionally Athena, Momboo, etc.)

“If there's any sleep at night”

Season 3 Icarus, and how the nights seemed to be sleepless once Centross died.

Again, can be taken as season 1 corrupt!Icarus, and the fact they never really slept during Ominous bane, or throughout the time of corruption in general until they were broken out of it.

“I got my knife, got my gun”

Corrupt!Icarus talking to Athena (or Ominous Bane) before the Three Strikes stream, and the “knife” being their sword, with their “gun” being their bow (which I believed was named “Gun” in season 1? I may be thinking of another time thought)

“Let’s see how fast you run”

Three Strikes stream, Icarus chasing after Athena and threatening to shoot their arrow at him. (I think that speaks for itself, yeah?)

“You might think that you can hurt me

But the damage has been done”

Icarus talking to Rae or anyone trying to “hurt” them during corruption, saying they can’t be hurt more as whatever damage spoken had already been dealt.

“If I was sorry for my actions

Would I ever stoop so low?”

Icarus saying that if they were sorry they wouldn’t be stooping down as far as some of the things they’ve done. Probably current Icarus/season 3 Icarus.

“I was good but then I quit

Everyone that tried to fix me

Knows that I can't change a bit

I've got no shame, got no pride

Only skeletons to hide”

Icarus saying that they tried to be good, they tried so hard but it ended up in them still being a villain, no matter what everyone did to try “fix” them. Everyone (Icarus and the things + maybe fable and/or coworkers) knows that they don’t change no matter what, and the “skeletons” being those they’ve killed. Momboo, Haley, all the gods, and technically Centross though that was more Fable’s doing.

#fable smp #fsmp #icarus morningstar #centross #prison duo #fablesmpblr #fsmpblr #fsmp icarus #song breakdown #analysis post #song analysis #i have so many thoughts you guys #please help my brain won't stop with these thoughts

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