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#christ those were the days

hotvintagepoll · 23 days

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I have this friend (more a friend of a friend) that I don’t see that often and so some time in early-mid March I saw her and ended up talking about this poll and how invested I was. flash forward to like a week or so ago as I was being devastated by round 3 results and we are at the same event and I’m like oh it’s been a day. And she’s like why. And I’m like so there’s this poll tournament……. And she goes oh yeah you were talking about that last time we saw each other, so I told her it was a long tournament!! anyways I feel like maybe I’ll see her in a couple weeks, forget we talked about this, and be like god I’m in distress and she’ll ask why and I’ll say like the hot vintage semifinals are killing me.

You are making an innocent bystander witness #pollgothic and honestly I can't blame you. They should have to witness the madness of the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament.

I've wrapped up answering old asks for the night! Thanks everyone who came to hang out with me :)

#asks #coffee night #remember when there 540 women here? jesus christ. those were days all right

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whollyjoly · 1 month

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking finally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An honorable life is an eternal life.

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

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

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

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

(song insp.)

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

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

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rooftops-are-for-towels · 14 days

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every fucking time things settle into something good and comfortable again i fuck it up over and over

(EDIT: HI guys I am doing much better now. They ain't lying reaching out to people and having a beautiful community is real and works. Will not be making a habit out of throwing giant angsty vents here of course but life is hopeful and cool. Thank you all I would delete this but it feels wrong to pls feel free to scroll)

#i hate my big stupid fucking mouth #zorry guys throwing a vent into the void. i hope the school shooter gets me first dude i hate myself i cant stop hurting the people i love #every day i fight the urge to start a new really bad habit #god #he was so comfortable. brotha was doing ok. already had too much on his plate #i dont know WHY I DONT THINK MORE WHEN I SPEAJ #I HATE IT #fucking christ dude #i cant believe i thought those things were ok to bring up. AGAIN.#i KNEW it was something he wanted to forget and shit #it doesnt matter if i feel bad about it sometimes

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princess-of-purple-prose · 1 year

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[ID: An edited page from Trigun Volume 10 Chapter 7, overlaid with lyrics from "Death Valley" by Fall Out Boy. The lyrics are from Genius and highlighted in russet orange. The view looks up on confetti fluttering down from the sky, and Wolfwood looks stunned before opening his mouth to scream, a tear rolling down his face. Overlaid is the line "But don't take love / off the table yet." End ID]

Posting this alt page of my vol10 web weaving separately because I'm still really fond of it! Forever guilt and unending penance and blood enjoyers etc etc

#i really do like this version compared to my other alts which were all so busy or poorly designed #actually i PREFER this one to the one i ended up going with as it's both cleaner and more in line with the conclusion of ww's arc #this didn't make the cut solely because the one i went with was more heavily vashwood and that was indeed the point slkdjfh #trigun #described #described by me #also i'd normally link to op's own blog if linking someone else's post it feels conceited not to #but i've had links break before so i'm trying to avoid that :(#my web weavings #<- i'm super aware none of my lyric edits technically count as web weavings but listen. listen #my posts #kay talks #trigun spoilers #trimax spoilers #ONE DAY I'LL STOP FORGETTING TO TAG THOSE #okay christ this has been in my drafts for days and i've edited the id no less than six times so RELEASING THIS INTO THE WILD NOW #wolfwood

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whysamwhy123 · 8 months

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Since I'm back after a little unplanned hiatus, time to blab about another dumb idea I had for an AU that I'll never write! So! For some reason, a while back, I decided I really wanted to come up with a trashy reality show AU for Max Squared, where MJF decides to exploit Caster's immediate, intense love for him by starting up a little showmance. Max wants to manipulate the editing of the show as well as the game itself to make sure that he wins and/or becomes the breakout star of the season. So when Caster falls head over heels for him on Day One, he's presented with the perfect opportunity.

Initially, I was thinking the show would be a Survivor type deal, a bunch of people on a desert island or something, voting each other off, so Max's game is stringing Caster along so that he won't ever vote against him and he always has an ally help him vote out whoever he considers his biggest competition. But then I started to think it might be funnier if it was an American Idol style singing competition. It kinda fits, right? Both MJF and Caster are musically inclined, after all. And it changes the logic behind Max's plan - he wants to manipulate the editing of the show, make himself seem like a nice, endearing guy so the public will vote to keep him in the show, and ensure he gets a lot more screen time than the the other contestants. And what better way to do than pretending to be falling in love with this weirdo who's obsessed with you? A heart-warming queer romance on a show where only one of them can win? That's some good trash TV there, right?

MJF insists to Caster that it's all an act on his part. He's only pretending to be in love with him for the show, to tug on the heartstrings of all the stupid fans out there who think this shit is anything close to real. A ploy to make himself seem like the perfect charming, irresistible hero he needs to be in order to win this damn thing. And Caster's just like ''Whatever you say, sweetie,'' because he knows before Max does.

Maybe after a certain point, Max figures, hey, there's no harm in sleeping with the guy. It doesn't mean anything - Caster's so willing, so he may as well get laid. Of course, Caster thinks this is a sign that he really does have feelings for him, no matter how many times MJF tells him that it's not because he's actually attracted to him. No, it's just a ''power thing''.

He's only pretending, right? Caster's a fucking loser, a pawn in Max's grand master plan to emerge victorious. There's no way he could end up actually developing feelings for him over the course of the show, right? It's all for the show, it's fake, it's not real! There's simply no way he could...

Also, I'd want there to be a point where one night, Caster straight-up begs Max to let him eat his ass. And MJF's like ''Ugh, no way! That's disgusting! You're insane! You're a fucking weirdo! You're gross! You're...you'd do that for me?'' and of course, Caster tells him he'd do anything for him. And Max finds he can't resist anymore. So he lets Caster do it and he makes sure he doesn't regret it. Max's probably so loud during it that it pisses off the other contestants and the crew members who can hear it through the walls because Max simply cannot keep quiet like he usually can.

#What is wrong with you Sam you should not be allowed to write #Y'all were free from me subjecting you to my terrible ideas for a few days but I'm back bitches!!#And worse than ever!#This is definitely one of those ideas that it's a good thing I'll never write #Been rattling around in my head for a while but I won't ever make it happen and that's for the best #I don't think I have it in me to write something trashy enough for this idea #Because it would need to be trashy like a reality show but I'd probably hold back too much #But the goofiness of the situation would have been fun to play around with #I feel like there's a lot of comedic potential to this AU at least #Also whoops got very H-word at the end there my sincerest apologies #But in my defence...trashy reality show AU and it's Max Squared what did you expect?#Does anyone still care about Max Squared besides me? It feels like everyone else has migrated over to AdaMJF #Gone where I cannot follow #Jesus fucking Christ Sam why are you still making tags SHUT UP ALREADY!#This is what happens when I have to go three whole days without internet this bitch has lost their damn mind #OK I promise I'll shut up now sorry

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willowser · 1 year

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Not exactly an ask but I thought I'd send you this anyways beacuse I figured you'd get a kick out of it:

Beacuse of your PTMY playlist on Spotify, I am now completely smitten by Jesus Christ by Brand New.

Like... I'd never heard that song before and THAT'S A TRAGEDY IN IT OF ITSELF BEACUSE IT'S SO GOOD!!! Cannot tell you why I like it so much but I've listened to it an unhealthy amount of times, so thanks for that!! Haha

OMG MISS ROSE I AM GETTING A KICK OUT OF THIS !!!!! YEEEAAAHHH THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME !!!!

it's...such a good song 🥺 it has such a hauntingly beautiful melody ?? and the lyrics are just so tragic and alfjfjekalal i love that song !!! i'm so glad you like it, how exciting akfhskalal !!!!

#WELL JESUS CHRIST I'M ALONE AGAIN #SO WHAT DID YOU DO THOSE THREE DAYS YOU WERE DEAD ?#'CAUSE THIS PROBLEM'S GONNA LAST MORE THAN THE WEEKEND #JESUS CHRIST I'M NOT SCARED TO DIE #I'M A LITTLE BIT SCARED OF WHAT COMES AFTER #DO I GET THE GOLD CHARIOT ? DO I FLOAT THROUGH THE CEILING ?#DO I DIVIDE AND PULL APART ?#WAAAAAAHHHH how special it is to share music i am kissing you 😌😌😌#✿ ask willow

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thewritehag · 11 months

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I'm not familiar with the term Heretical Mormonism, do you mind talking about it? Sincerely, a Unitarian Universalist

I don't mind. I'm likely the only person who uses the term "heretical mormon," letalone identifying as one.

What it means is that I find a lot of hypocrisy in the church organization, specifically regarding scripture and how scripture is used (but mostly ignored) and the unabashed unwillingness to own up to the church's dark history. There's a lot more and I have my own religious trauma to shore up my heresy.

Boiled down, I believe in what I do with scriptural and scholarly support, all of which leads me to believe the church itself is heretical, but it's faster to just say I'm the heretic. There are reasons I don't simply leave the church and all of them are painful, so much so I can't bring myself to articulate them.

I'm sorry if this doesn't explain much and probably makes me sound self-righteous; if it helps, I know I'm a hypocrite and that I'm not a good person, which makes me qualified to call it out.

Thank you for asking and I'm also sorry to end on a downer.

#ask me anything #religion #church of jesus christ of latter day saints #you know #the mormons!#those ads were before my time but they're so cringey and funny #ldslife

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