#waking in a dumpster

[unlikelytrashcreation]

@mybrainisbigpoop and @banana-zim …..So about that fanart I was threatening you with In the ao3 comments…..

[worldstarz]

persona 3 spoilers (part 2!)

pairing: shinjiro aragaki x fem!reader

tags: angst

a/n: continuation of this post. i will edit this as soon as i wake up in the morning but i told myself i will not go to bed until this leaves my drafts bc it’s been marinating for like five days. also what is the title of this two part thing??

HUGE SPOILER WARNING FOR OCTOBER IN PERSONA 3 !!!

———

it still smells like him.

the room is barren. shinjiro never wanted to leave his mark on the world, trying to erase his own existence. but, as you lie on the sheets that have yet to be changed, the subtle musky scent engulfs you.

“it still smells like him,” you repeat your thoughts aloud, as if by addressing it would make it permanent.

maybe this was weird. if he were here, standing before you, he would be staring down at you with a quirked brow. “what the hell are you doing?”

why did he come to your room that night? what purpose did he have, knowing his own fate?

you try not to cry. you’ve cried enough already, and the image of shinjiro in your head would certainly scold you, telling you to just get up and get some food with him.

but he’s not here.

sure, it’s not what he would’ve wanted, but you make yourself comfortable on his bed. it’s the least he could do after confessing his desire for you, knowing he would die the same day.

lying on your back, you allow your mind to wander. why does it feel like you’re the only one stuck in the past? how has everyone been able to bounce back so quickly? hell, akihiko is basically his brother and he’s already moved on. speaking of moving on, amada’s completely—

fuck, what is wrong with you?

for the past few days, you tried to block these festering thoughts. being open minded was what lead you to be so close to shinjiro. akihiko just processes his grief differently, while amada was just a kid blinded by revenge.

but still…

you sit up abruptly. he wouldn’t want this.

you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and plant your feet on the ground. he wouldn’t want this.

you stand up, smoothing over your clothes. he wouldn’t want this.

but what the hell do you even know about him? how do you know what he would want? you couldn’t even become close enough to figure out what plagued his mind during his every waking moment. maybe if you did, you would’ve been able to stop—

no. he wouldn’t want this either.

just like how he would want akihiko, amada, and everyone else to come together and move on. he would not want you beating yourself up over something you weren’t involved in.

you take a deep breath in, then out. in. out. okay. you’ve got this. this is your last day to be in his room before everything is moved out. all that will remain is the memory of him. everyone else already got a turn a few days ago, so this is your last chance to preserve whatever fragments of him are left in here.

the drawer to his desk is slightly ajar. out of respect for his privacy, you begin to shut it, but something oddly familiar peaks out.

is that…?

with wide eyes and shaky hands, you reach in.

it’s a photo of the two of you, back when shinjiro still went to school, before you had any ideas about why he came to class everyday all beat up.

you’re smiling, holding up a peace sign, while shinjiro glared at the camera. it was a picture taken to commemorate the end of junior high school—one that took a lot of convincing for him to agree to.

on the back, sprawled in your handwriting, you wrote;

“shinjiro,

i found this picture of us from the last day of junior high! it’s weird how much time has passed.

have you been eating well? how is your sleep? are you still growing out your hair? i know you’re not feeling well, but as soon as your health improves, we should hang out again.

also, i miss seeing you in class. hurry up and get better! i need someone to talk to!

-[name]

11/04/08”

it takes you a second, but you do remember writing this. judging by the date, it was roughly a month after he took his leave of absence, citing medical issues. you didn’t have much contact with him outside of school, so you relied on akihiko to transport the photo to him.

you crouch down, trying to get ahold of your emotions. you’ve done enough crying. he wouldn’t want you to waste so many tears on him.

but haven’t you been ignoring his wishes already?

you bury your face in your hands in a pathetic attempt to muffle your sobs. physically, nobody was in here. but for you, shinjiro was everywhere. in this room, in the hallways, in the lounge, on the streets, at school—he followed you everywhere. your morale bent under the weight of his memory.

only now do you realize there will come a day where you will have known the grief longer than you have known him.

but this pain is better than never knowing him in the first place.

shinjiro, who secretly cooked meals for koromaru.

shinjiro, who never let you go to bed on an empty stomach.

shinjiro, who tried to push you away, but failed.

shinjiro, who held you close hours before his death.

shinjiro, who didn’t want to leave his mark on the world, but left a mark on you.

the grief will never go away. you will carry it with you wherever you go, and the weight of it will never diminish. but, you can grow around it. you will grow around it.

because that’s what he would’ve wanted.

[mikeluciraphgabe]

Oh Clint Barton, how the MCU massacred you

[seven-tastic]

planets

[moltengoldveins]

look. I don’t particularly care for unhealthy or aggressive relationships with sexual undertones in fiction, I’m too ace for that Bullcrap and I’d prefer to think about Anything Else Ever.

…. That being said. Sometimes. You. You look at a guy. And. and the guy hates the Hero So Much. His whole personality is hating the Hero. It’s almost weird just how much he hates him. And…. Like, yknow that one post about “throw knives at it all you want: you still printed a photo of them out and put it in your wall”? It’s like that. You just Know that their mind is consumed every waking moment by this person and it doesn’t make any sense for them at that point to not have at least a little Fruity beneath all the hateful bile. You spend your time staring at their face seething. Gazing into their eyes seething. Holding their face between your hands wondering what it would feel like to snap their neck, seething. Staring at their mou- how far do I gotta go before you get the idea here? so yea anyway this is why I think Endeavor is the way he is about All Might 👍

[fiendishartist2]

today i bring you random tma doodles. tomorrow? who knows.......

[tanyakennedy1899]

Last few days ive woken up -> checked the mirror my hair normally lays like tanyas with a lil poof at the front. Kinning works or something idk

[fazgoo-connoiseur-1987]

what time is it there. it's 4:33 here

10:40am here now :]

[fighting-naturalist]

"Careful, the last man who insulted me had to fish pieces of his tongue out of a garbage disposal." ... "I'm kidding!"

[raayllum]

Gethsemane, Jesus Christ Superstar / Dear Callum, Reflections

[supraxstcllas]

@sinshosted has found the Fugitive!

Wasp had a plan.

past tense, though. as he was running on fumes and needed recharge desperately. but he toughed it out, he had to. it's not like the Autobots would stop looking for him anytime soon. so here he was, in his alt. mode, speeding down empty side streets, avoiding any traffic he found. he moved like this for a while till he found a nice, empty alley and zoomed into it.

shifting to his root mode, he slumped against the brick at the end of the alley, venting a harsh gust of air from his intake as he tried to get his bearings. he's far from Detroit now, so far he's not sure where he ended up, but the farther the better. at least for now. he only turns his optics off for a moment, but his internal clock said it'd been half a solar cycle already. the sun being lower in the sky also confirmed it.

violet optics take a moment to refocus, only to find a human peeking out at him from behind a metal box full of trash. he resets his optics once, then just growl them. he might be small compared to other bots, but he was still bigger than a human, so they better watch themselves.

[aclosetfan]

sheesh, i finally finished it. Bloomer fans (3 ppl) this one's for us.

t/w: underage drinking, but they're like 19-20 not 5 lol

-------------------------------------------------

“You’re not drinking!” Boomer announced, shoving a finger in her face, “Whys not?”

Blossom hit his hand away and frowned, “Because. Don’t be rude.”

Boomer took a long swig from his red solo cup before addressing her with a lopsided smile, “Because you’re afraid you may have fuuunnn?”

She glared at him, “It’s because, one, we’re underage. Two, someone has to be responsible.”

“Brick’s not drinking!” Boomer quipped, pointing to Brick, already passed out on a random couch, “They’s responsible, you know, so you don’t gotta!”

She continued to frown and shook her head. “Go, Boomer.”

“But,” he pouted, “we’re supposed to be havin’ fun!”

She wrinkled her nose a bit and shrugged, looking off, “This isn’t really my kind of...fun, Boomer. Really, I’m alright. I don’t mind.”

Actually, she minded quite a bit. Breaking the law wasn't fun, thank you very much. The very idea that they, the Powerpuff Girls, could be caught red-handed with underage drinkers flared her anxiety to almost uncontrollable levels. And so, she had forbidden her sisters to come to this dumb party and then fought against them tooth and nail when they ambushed and dragged her along.

When they had made it to the party, Buttercup and Bubbles had given up on her almost immediately after it became clear that she would not be enjoying herself. She figured that would happen and planned to leave when their backs were turned, but the idea of leaving them here without a sober companion made her heart palpitate. So instead, she had taken up post by the front door, glowering at anyone who dared to talk to her.

Unfortunately, Boomer was notorious for ignoring the obvious.

"But how do you know!" He argued, "You've never even try it, Bumbles told me!"

"Bubbles," She corrected, "and, well, just...because, now, go find Butch or something."

He didn't listen (typical) and stood before her, pouting. "Because why? Cause you're afraid of fun?"

She huffed and crossed her arms, not at all interested in discussing her (arguable) control issues. "Go find Butch, Boomer."

"He's with Butters," He finally explained, which distracted him enough to ramble on, "and oof those two, amiright? Getta room."

"Then, find Bubbles."

He stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry, "She's fightin' fer money right now, and listen," he pointed to himself, "I'ma bad guy, but tha's still not my scene."

"I'm sorry. What is she doing?" She blinked, but Boomer ignored her, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"And Brick's all not drinkin' right now—"

"—passed out—"

"—right, tomato-tamato, but then I saw you standing here all by your lonesome and thought, Boomer! She looks like she needs a drink! Soooo, let's go get you one!"

"Boomer, no." She said sternly.

"But it's fun!"

"No."

He slumped against her and sighed, "yeah, okay, but at least come hang out with us."

Guilt rocked her stomach. She hadn't believed her sisters when they told her Boomer specifically requested she come with them this time, but the look on his face made her think they were actually telling the truth.

This wasn't the first party the brothers had invited them to that she had bailed on, and she was pretty sure it was starting to hurt Boomer's feelings. She supposed they were friendly enough with the boys that it was a little insulting, from their perspective, that she never attempted to hang out with them on their terms as opposed to her own. Still, she had always figured they'd have more fun without her, given the fact she was better at killing parties than being the life of them.

In fact, the last time she had seen any of the boys was when she had an unexpected run-in with Boomer, and he had helped her deal with some electrical giant by the power plant when her sisters were otherwise engaged with other hero-related activities. He had come to investigate the power plant issue himself because the monster had killed the internet, which had ruined his "kill streak" on some videogame he was currently obsessed with. Therefore, the problem had become too personal for him to ignore. He had actually been quite helpful in the endeavor. She had admittedly forgotten about his ability to manipulate electrical currents, but she was exceedingly grateful for it that day, and she had said as much to him.

Boomer had blushed, shrugged, and acted surprisingly bashful about it, and now, he wanted to have a drink with her.

She pressed her lips together and weighed her options. On the one hand, she knew she felt she may have owed him, but she also knew that she, in fact, did not owe him anything when it came to the consumption of goods. But it was such a simple request, and he was at least a good sport about her irritable behavior.

With a long sigh, she said, "One drink. I will try one drink with you, and then I'll be going home."

Boomer's face lit up, and he took her hand in his, leading her into the thick of the party. He continued babbling as she followed after him. She had no idea what he was saying, but he seemed rather confident saying it, waving his arms around as he spouted off a string of slurred words.

‘He never actually stops talking, does he?’ She thought.

She was quite aware that alcohol was a social lubricant, but she figured since Boomer didn’t need any help with socializing, alcohol would have had a somewhat calming effect and made him not so bouncy, but no, it seemed he had even more energy to spare.

He brought her to a table tucked away in the corner of the kitchen where the floors had exceeded an uncomfortable level of sticky and began mixing a drink. She stood awkwardly by him, highly aware of how people kept a wide breadth, staring at Boomer like he was out of his mind. She scowled at them until a red solo cup was pushed into her hands.

"Ta-da! A—" He hiccupped, "—dirty Shirley!"

She looked at the red drink skeptically before turning her attention back to him, “What should I expect?”

“Hmmm,” he tapped his chin in thought as his drink sloshed over the rim of his cup. “Well, Buttercup’s soooo giggly and Bub—Bub is like fighting everybody...maybe you’ll be like not boring, like fun and stuff?”

“I’m not boring!” She stiffened and paused, “Do people think I’m boring?”

“Yeah, pretty much!” Boomer hummed, taking a sip of his drink. Then, swaying to the beat of the music, he shrugged and continued, “S’not so bad! You’re just so...” his nose wrinkled, “booky?”

The brute honesty stung a little, but she wasn’t surprised. Boomer would have probably said the same thing sober too.

She gave the cup an uncomfortable look and then glanced back up at Boomer. He was watching her with slow, uncoordinated blinks, but watching her all the same. When he noticed she was looking at him, he gave her an encouraging smile.

“Go’on!” He hummed, nudging the drink with his own, “I made it extra sweet! Won’t taste a thing!”

She sniffed the drink, and it made her nose crinkle as the overwhelming smell of cherry grenadine irritated her sinuses. Still, artificial flavoring did a poor job of masking the ethanol smell wafting from the connection. And, quite frankly, she was of the opinion that there was no sprite in this drink whatsoever.

“I-I—you’ll stay with me?” She clarified, and Boomer shook his head.

“S’course, Bossy!”

She took a deep breath, brought the cup to her lips, and then slightly back down. This made him frown again, but she shook her head and gave him an inquisitive look.

“I—okay, before, what if I do something stupid? What if I make a bad decision or something, and the whole world finds out?”

Boomer's million-watt smile brightened the dingy corner, "Well, Bloss," he started rather eloquently, given his inebriation, "I don't mean to brag or anything, but I don't even have to be drunk to make really bad decisions! And look at me; people still think I'm fucking awesome!"

In a way, the loud confession was slightly comforting. It was misguided, of course. Also, arrogant. But still, slightly comforting. But Boomer was well-liked. Her?

...not so much.

He must have seen it on her face because his smile dimmed.

He raised his right hand and put his drink over his heart, "I promise on my parole officer's life, nothing bad's gonna happen. You're just gonna try it, just once, and decide."

She sighed, frowned at the liquid in her cup, and returned the cup to her mouth.

The alcohol barely touched her lips, coating them in a sickly sweet taste that she licked tentatively. Her heart rammed against her ribs, and for a heartstopping moment, she thought she was already drunk and had to fight back tears. Of course, the reaction was ridiculous, but now that the deed was done, every bad thing that could happen sat at the forefront of her mind. Without thinking, she reached for Boomer's arm to steady herself.

"I don't think I can do this," She shook her head, trying to return the cup, "this is—it's too much. I'm sorry."

He stepped back and looked genuinely surprised, "Hey, okay, it's okay, don't look so freaked out, you don't gotta! Here, here, give it to me."

"Sorry," She breathed, "sorry this was stupid, I'm not—I'm not like you," she ignored the furrowed, almost offended look on his face, "I'm not fun, Boomer, I'm like the least fun person ever, and this is—" She shook her head, trying so hard to keep the panic at bay, "—something bad will happen, I just know it. I can't have fun because what if something bad happens and I can't keep control of it and—"

The offended look morphed quickly back into surprise as her grip on him tightened. A normal human wouldn't have appreciated the tight, painful grip, but he wasn't a normal human. He put their cups down and reached for her shoulders.

"Blossom! Dude, it's okay. Look at me. Everything's okay. Look, we're fine! Everyone's fine!" He gestured around the room, speaking over her rambling, and when she quieted down enough to follow his directions, people were very much staring.

More panic flared, and she pulled away from him with a terrified squeak. Freaking out was not a Powerpuff thing to do in public.

"Ohhhkay," Boomer announced, abandoning the drinks and pulling her out a set of sliding glass doors leading to the back patio. She welcomed the blast of cold air and broke free from him, bounding down the patio steps and around the corner of the house. There, she sunk down the wall and sat with her head between her knees, breathing.

She wanted nothing more than to call the professor but didn't want to risk getting her sisters in trouble.

"Blossom?" Boomer peeked around the corner, "Shit! Are you okay?"

She jumped at his voice and shot up, wiping her eyes, "Yep! Fine! Sorry, um, I, it's, uh, in there that was weird, wasn't it. Sorry. Ignore that. I'm fine, totally."

Boomer frowned, "So, like, I know you're not, though. Should I get Buttercup or—"

"No!" She interrupted, "No, please don't. She'll be all worried, and it'll ruin her fun, and I'm just—" She deflated, giving up the act as she sunk back to the ground. Who cared? He was drunk anyway, right?

"I'm overwhelmed, that's all. I'm sorry. I know you were just trying to get me to have fun, but it freaks me out. My whole life, I've been on, always trying my best and never feeling like it's good enough, and anytime I ever do anything fun," She shook her head like the word itself was offensive, "it just backfires."

He slid down next to her, "that sucks."

She snorted, "yeah, that's a pretty good word for it."

"Your sisters don't seem to care?"

She looked at him and shrugged, "they worry about other things."

He nodded, "yeah, I get that."

"Do you?" She quirked an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yeah, before—" He broadly gestured, rolling his eyes, "—I was the one in charge of worrying about like food and shit, you know, when we lived in the middle of the fucking forest because that was a real bright idea, Brickhead. That guy," he snorted, "and they say I'm the dumb one."

She giggled, "Brick's too stubborn for his own good."

"You're tellin' me!"

They sat for a while outside, watching the stars, when Boomer spoke up again. It was the longest bout of silence she had ever heard from him.

"Sorry if I pressured you or something in there. I just didn't want you to go."

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her knees, "It's okay. It wasn't like you were acting maliciously. You were just being...sweet."

"Don't tell my brothers, okay?" He smiled, "I've got a rep, you know."

She crossed her heart and locked her lips.

"You know, though, you may wanna think about drinking with your sisters sometime or something. You don't want your first time being drunk stuck at some snotty benefit or with some shit company, just in case. Learned that from experience." His face darkened.

"I feel like I remember hearing something about that."

"My brothers gambled me off!" He threw up his arms, "They lost me in a bet! To Boogie! Who does that!"

She laughed again and slapped a hand over her mouth when he shot her a look, "Sorry!" She spoke through her fingers, "Sorry! Not funny!" But then, she snorted and spit, and soon, they were both laughing.

"Hey?" She asked after they had calmed down.

"Yeah?" He wiped a tear from his eye.

"Could I, well, if you wouldn't mind, could I try again?"

"Drinking?"

"Mhm, if you, um, wouldn't mind staying with me, that is."

Boomer's face broke into a wide, gleaming smile, "duh."

-----------------------------------------------------

A pair of arms wrapped around her, and even with the brain fog, she braced herself for an attack and felt silly for it a second later.

"Blossy," Buttercup pressed a smile into her temple. Her breath was warm, and she leaned heavily on her, but the weight was welcomed. It wasn't every day Buttercup initiated a hug, and despite Blossom being the less physical of the three, she leaned into her sister's arms, or more like, practically collapsed.

Nothing bad happened when Buttercup was around. It was the best part about her. It honestly made Blossom a little jealous of how naturally "being a hero" came to her sister and not her, but currently, she pushed that from her mind and enjoyed the warmth.

"Are you still mad at us?" Buttercup laughed, pulling away slightly with a broad, pretty smile, "Boomer teaching you how to have fun?"

The two questions right in a row confused her for a moment, so she shook her head and then corrected herself and nodded.

"I think, uh, I think so?" She murmured back, aware people were watching them but doing an excellent job ignoring their gazes' weight. A first, in her experience.

Buttercup laughed and didn't ask her to clarify whether she thought she was mad or learning to have fun, which was fine by Blossom. Her thoughts were rolling away from her anyway.

"Course I am!" Another arm looped around her shoulders, pulling her into Boomer's chest, "We're doing great, right, Bloss?"

"Yeah," She agreed, relaxing in his hold as she took another sip from her red solo cup. After that, she lost track of the conversation, but Boomer's arm remained around her shoulders, tethering her to reality.

The room they all sat in seemed murky around the edges as she watched the group. Buttercup, surprisingly, held the spotlight. Her laughter was infectious, and Blossom couldn't help but notice how Bubbles she was being. She smiled into her cup as Buttercup launched into another nonsense story that Butch and Robin kept correcting the details of. Boomer would also chime in, prodding on the conversation. He and Buttercup commanded the room together, and she was somehow there with them, soaking it all up.

"Nooo," Buttercup giggled, arguing with Robin, "that's totally not what happened."

Butch snorted, his head lulling to the side as his free hand massaged Buttercup's neck, "babe, that's exactly how it happened."

"No, no," She smiled, letting her head bump against his, "Bloss, you remember, right, there were three snake monsters, not one?"

She blinked, swimming back to the surface at the sound of her name, "Uh, yeah?"

"See!" Buttercup pointed, "Even Blossom agrees with me! Three, not one!"

Butch laughed, sitting up, "Oh please, come on, listen, hey, Red?"

She smiled at him. Butch called her and Brick "Red," and it was cute but also sometimes confusing because who was he talking to? But, then he'd say, ack, both of you always have something to say, so both of you might as well listen, but he'd say it with more curse words, and not exactly like that either, but close, and then, she remembered Butch was waiting for her to answer.

"Yeah?"

"I've got blue hair, right?"

She smiled with him, forgetting the question almost instantly, "Um, yes?"

"No, shush, you're just trying to trick her," Buttercup waved him off over the sound of her own laughter, "no, she remembers, she does!"

Again, the conversation began to dull around her as she sank back into the murky waters of her brain.

Boomer squeezed her shoulders, and she looked up at him with a sluggish blink.

"Still good?" He smiled at her, "How you feelin'?"

She shook her head, but it took her a minute to verbally answer.

"Good," She agreed, more interested in the feel of him next to her and the rumbly sound his chest made when he talked than her state of intoxication, "murky. Dizzy. Uh, slow, but, uh, relaxed? I think relaxed? I don't know. What does that feel like, relaxed?"

He shrugged, his smile growing wider, "I think...like that, actually."

"Oh." She nodded, "That's nice. Good to know."

He laughed, and it was all she could focus on.

"That's nice too," she explained, "have I told you that before? You have a nice laugh."

His eyes crinkled, and he moved to say something, but now, words she couldn't find earlier started bubbling up her throat, and she didn't want to stop them.

"Thank you, by the way," She tangled her fingers with his hand dangling over her shoulder, "for encouraging me to do this and staying with me. I know this is probably boring for you, cause you know, you're bouncy and stuff, but I appreciate it. This was," She looked away from him and shook her head, agreeing with her own thoughts before blurting, "yeah, this was a smart idea, Boom, yeah, uh, yeah, smart, you know, getting drunk for the first time while I'm with people who care about me, and not, you know, some other time."

"Oh!" Boomer blinked a few times, and it seemed now, it was his turn to be at a loss for words, and that was interesting to Blossom because Boomer always had something to say, "uh, yeah, it's, uh—" He cleared his throat and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, "—no problem, Bloss. Do you want more?"

He gestured to her cup, and she shook her head, "No thank you, I think—" She hiccupped, "—I think that was enough, but can we still sit here?"

"Yeah," He agreed, "yeah, that'd be, uh, sure, no problem."

Taking a page out of Buttercup's book, Blossom gave him a big smile before leaning her head against his shoulder. With a contented sigh, feeling safe and relaxed, she let her eyes slip close, enjoying the conversation flowing around her. It was pretty alright not being boring.

[cyberphuck]

Text me right now if you truly need help I promise to assist you with $200 if that will help you a long way +1-862-234-0977

My boobs scared him away :(

[mintmatcha]

The curse of virality ouhg. The reblogs on that post sure are something😅 I hope you do write that novel idea you had about it though, I’d 100% read it. Like even though the idea is out in the world in other forms, the reason it got so big is because you articulated it in such a vivid, melancholy, and fascinating way. Like I’m someone who almost never reads angst or horror, but what ever genre you write it in I’d read it because you already have me hooked. You’re a truly excellent writer, so thank you for sharing your work with us!

most of the time I dont care, I've become pretty numb to it, but I still get irked when people act as if I'm stupid or that my protagonist is dumb. I'm right here! I can see what you said! be nice to me!

Thank you- you're so sweet. I am so thankful that people enjoy what I did and hopefully, one day, I'll improve enough to write a whole book.

[pop-punklouis]

did you like wake up sunshine? if so, what's changed since then? i don't really follow atl, just curious.

wake up sunshine is still such a solid album. it’s one of their best albums to date. imo it infuses so much of what made all time low great sonically and lyrically over their career but with more polish. especially off the back of the atrocious last young renegade concept album they released in 2017.

their newest record, tell me i’m alive, is just blatant radio chasing, younger audience baiting, and parched relevancy all mixed into one. so many of the lyrics make me physically cringe as they’re so vapid and juvenile for grown ass men in their 30s. like please tell me why we’re having lyrics such as “bite marks on my lip from kissing vampires” in songs now 💀 or completely ditching what they do best in the rock arena for oversaturated, plastic electronic production?? they’re too old and talented to be creating music this cheesy and lazy. it just feels like another last young renegade where they will dick around for three years before realizing (again) where their strengths lie. it just. isn’t good and there isn’t much to say about it besides knowing how painfully obvious it is they’re coughing up dust to try and hold onto their fanbase and garner new fans after the allegations and messy image they’ve had the past year. it’s embarrassing to see rip

but! there are still a few songs off the new album that remind me of old all time low and are just wickedly good. such as modern love or sleepwalking which plays to all their strengths or english blood/american heartache that is pumped full of sonic nostalgia or even the other side which genuinely feels like one of the best all time low songs they’ve ever inked. the melodies in this track are insane. but otherwise, it’s unfortunately garbage

[queen-of-bel]

wip but the dichotomy between these two ocs of mine is so funny