#album: unimagine

[winter-tospring]

first impressions from last night, for my records lol written as i went. warning, it's not great tortured poets department: wtf is with all that synth it sounds so bad so high so not on theme wtf is this her voice doesnt sound like it's trying at all it's strolling and so boring; she's just giving us nothing

my boy: this is like if out of the woods production was less good and also didn't fit the theme and lyrics and it just is bAD so bad, like why, it's like a bad imitation that doesn't make sense!!!!!! the drum and synth was nice once and then i'm sorry you actually have to make it coherent not just re-use the same things and patch them together because you have no new fucking ideas !!~!!!!!!!

down bad- she will say she's an alcoholic and she learned how to say fuck so she overuses it like a teenager now, great. matty breaking up with her?? sounds like he did but feels like lies tbh

so long, london- wow finally getting to hear about joe. better match between lyrics and music. better gradation, better buildup, some pretty good lyrics, overall, decent

but daddy i love him- something i would actually support and be hyping if she had come out as bi, or gay, or had stuck with matty, had defended any part about him, had continued dating him longer than she did, had actually dissassociated from her dad, had actually done sonmething rebellious truly. but she reverted back to a fucking footballer her dad picked for her so how fucking bold to release this now when all this energy is gone. the nerve. she should've kept this to herself or release it last summer it's actually UPSETTING that she would release this now when she is in such a picture perfect daddy approved relationship.

fresh out the slammer- uh….okay…undewhelming "taylor, please. do a drug. any drug. and report back. 😞😩"

florida!!!- definitly the best!! florence has the best moments of the album. actually intersting vocals, attitude, style, bocal beauty, and interesting music overall. just want her to sing only, feels like taylor is impeding on florence and i want florence to come back everytime she stops singing. florence actually adds flavor to this, whereas taylor is just...flat and uninteresting??? yikes

guilty as sin?- actually like it!! guitar and drum yes baby. though oh pooor little baby you desire someone else. you are now linking yourself to jesus, you're so guilty but you havent done anything. okay okay but the sound is actually good and i would listen again. the grandiose religious comparisons are a plenty on this album man

i can fix him- taylor you are not grimes. you were not married to elon musk. stop religion, stop it. my god how embarassing this one should not have been public. actually burst out laughing at that last heavy "can't"

loml- thank you for actually telling us something. that was the easiest to get through without interrupting. joe song. good words, good simple ballad.

i can do this with a broken heart- this is funny genuinely, funny, i would hype that, wow

the smallest man who ever lived- the karlie song? want to look more into the lyrics.

the alchemy- ew ew ewterrible badddddddddddd you can't write a good song about football, please stop trying. this is so bad i'm actually so mad please delete this clara bow- so disapointed! i expected more from this one, but it's another ''the lucky one'' or "last american dynasty" etc...nothing new, so it doesn' really compel attention... i listened to who's afraid of little old me last:

who's afraid of little old me?- oh god girl. make this make sense. this is embarrassing, why dont you tell us why you were raised in an asylum and what they did and that instead of throwing oh boohoo me i have it so bad.

this is just her style now, i guess. :|

[thekidsarentalright]

im literally gonna be hearing fall out boys eighth studio album so much for stardust for the first time later today. what the fuck!!!!!!!!!!

[idiotcoward]

Cannibal Corpse - Violence Unimagined

It’s fucking insane to me that Cannibal Corpse was founded in 1988 and they made this record in 2021. How many bands do that. Not only keep consistently putting out music for almost forty years, but do it well?? I honestly haven’t listened to a Cannibal corpse album and thought anything worse about the album “hey this is pretty good!” Even when metal bands go through that dip in quality from 2005-2015 (imo it’s a whole conspiracy that this happened) but even during this period they fucking rule?? Like it doesn’t make any sense. This album, also, fucking rules. The soloing on this feels so next level to a lot of their earlier stuff and every song you can feel they put their heart and soul into making sure it’s still amazing. After all these fucking years these guys still love writing gorey disgusting songs for us sick freaks to wallow in and I think that’s beautiful.

[damnable-bell]

Minho's friend from middle school interviewed him for his YouTube channel this week and shared stories of how Minho has helped him pursue his dream (plus the text conversation that led to the interview).

I hate to be corny, but I really feel that having a friend like Minho must be such a blessing on your life.

Side note: The famous director Minho studied under, according to his friend, is none other than Hong Sangsoo. Hong Sangsoo! I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind. Minho, you just get cooler by the day.

cr: jsskmy

[angeltannis]

I found a copy of one of my favorite albums of all time at the thrift store today!! I never owned this one physically, and now for $2 I do 😤

[stars-revolution-lovers]

Welcome to Pink Seashell Beach

"The answers are all inside of this"

[gothprentiss]

my speakers don't arrive for a couple of days which is a tragedie bc i wanna be sitting IN music right now

[revradio]

The first two Hands Like Houses albums were so magical... What happened to this band :(

[avaloniaofficial]

[exhausted delirious and choking on my own spit] so the nia worn virgin mary parallels huh

[viniyur]

my incredibly definite and not at all emotion-based ranking system for daft punk's discovery

[rockoblanco]

omfg pitchfork gave this måneskin album a TWO OUT OF 10 LMAOOOOOOOO i had to double take bcs i didn’t think a score could ever possibly be that low LMAOOOOOOO😭😭😭😭

[zephyrchama]

(Slight continuation of yesterday's headcanon about MC's old pictures.)

The palace library is the finest collection of knowledge and tomes in the kingdom, even more so than RAD's (which is likely based off of the royal collection with a more academic flair).

Many books are restricted only to nobles or special guests, and among those are books reserved only for the royal family. They're so exclusive that hardly anybody outside of the royal family even knows what they are.

Even more elusive than those are the books Diavolo and his parents keep in their private bedrooms. Tomes that are said to be mere legends or rumors. You could count the number of people who have ever seen them in person on one hand.

This is where Diavolo keeps it. Sandwiched in between a millennia-old genealogy of the Devildom's rulers and a cursed book containing the damned souls of all who touch it stands a picture album containing photos of MC from years before they arrived in the Devildom.

Many underhanded and even illegal means were used to obtain these treasures. Diavolo personally organized the album, adding fun stickers and handwritten captions to each photo. Its contents were unfortunately sparse, as such images were unimaginably difficult to obtain. A concerning amount of them look to be security camera footage from public places. But if something is easy to find, it's not very fun to collect.

(I don't think he'd earnestly hide it. I think he might go "MC, look what I have! Let's look at it together. :) " and MC would say "Diavolo this is considered a felony in at least 95 human countries.")

[simp4konig]

Hello, someone forcing Nikto to show his face to his lover... Thoughts?

WARNING! HEAVY, HEAVY ANGST! VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

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"Look at them."

His knees buckled under him, Nikto was kneeling, body subdued and completely overcome with fatigue.

Pain no longer registered in his body, and it more closely resembled a dull ache — like the ache after ripping a tooth with no anesthetic, the gums numb.

Gunshot wounds had torn his flesh, and he was slowly losing consciousness, but he was gritting his teeth with enough pressure to unhinge his own jaw to stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake stay away stay awake.

A sharp yank of his collar forced Nikto's eyes to find meet Zakhaev's, but Nikto was committing your face to memory — your face, not the one of a corpse, or the ones from the photo albums which were burned before his very eyes.

His eyes were drooping, however, and any second now, he thought he would collapse, his body lulling of its own accord as if he was drunk.

But he was not. He was in so much pain that it made him delirious.

"This is your partner?"

Although the statement was directed at Nikto, Viktor's eyes bore into your own. As he smirked cruelly, the scar on the side of his face sneered at you with equal cruelty, the result of his notoriety and violence.

"Talk, dog. Tell me. Don't make me ask a second time."

Nikto was captured by Zakhaev, and was tortured. Nikto was willing to endure unimaginable pain, to be mutilated, to be ruined beyond salvation, so long as you were safe.

And you were. He was certain. He had taken several precautions, searched various locations for the ideal safe place. To keep you safe.

Somehow, your hideout was found. After all the precautions Nikto had taken, after all of the effort, the dedication, the certainty... in vain.

As if the physical, injuries which were irreversible, the beatings, the brainwashing, the everything wasn't enough, clearly Nikto wasn't sufficiently scarred for Zakhaev to be satisfied. Zakhaev wanted him broken. Destroyed emotionally, so that fight, that passion, and that strength would dissipate, and ultimately disappear. Since Nikto was too much of a threat to the organisation, and Zakhaev's plans.

Nikto's eyes were empty, sockets hollow, void of any emotion. Just a void.

Stubbornly, Nikto remained silent, refusing to humour Viktor with a response.

Instead, his heart ached, his gut clenched, his fists shook, and his eyes stung.

All he could do was look into your eyes. Hoping, praying to God, anyone, anyone at all, that you would be spared. That, for disobedience, one of the bullets in Zakhaev's pistol would go straight through his skull, not yours.

That at least you wouldn't have to face death first.

As if bored, Viktor turned his pistol this way and that, observing it with feigned interest...

...

...To Nikto's horror, instead of aiming the barrel of his gun at him, Viktor was walking towards you.

Zakhaev denied Nikto the sight of your face for your last seconds, deliberately shielding his line of sight. Not out of mercy, but out of spite, and to further rub salt into his wounds — which he would later do with sick, sadistic pleasure.

Every single cell in his body yelled, screamed, shrieked at Nikto to move, to lunge at Zakhaev, to throw himself, to do anything.

But he couldn't move. Not a muscle. Fatigue, pain, and numbness had invaded his bloodstream and paralysed his nervous system, rendering him incapacitated.

No bother.

You were smiling.

Tears streaming down your cheeks like rivers, sobs echoing as you sobbed and sobbed until your throat became hoarse and voice was broken, you were smiling.

You saw Nikto's new face for the first time.

Nikto's face mutilated, scarred, and ruined face of the man who you cherished, whose stubbled cheeks you'd often nuzzle your nose into, whose lips you'd kiss.

God. What had they done to him? You could recognise those blue-gray eyes any day, but they no longer resembled ice which would melt at the sight of you; instead, they were empty. Soulless.

Yet, as ruined and mutilated as it was, it was still the face of your Nikto.

Nonetheless, you saw Nikto's new face for the first time.

And last.

As, Nikto's face, was the last thing that you ever would see. Half obscured by Zakhaev's body, yes, and your vision blurred by tears, you still saw it. That was enough.

Before Zakhaev unceremoniously pulled the trigger, and your body became limp. Cold. Your mind at rest, but your eyes becoming blind, denied the sight of your lover forever.

Not at peace, though. You could only rest, since you wouldn't, couldn't find peace. Not after being burdened with the knowledge of what's been done to him, and what's going to be done to him.

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A/Ns

second wip finished!!!!!

from a very fluffy fic to something gutwrenching... you're NOT welcome. you ARE however welcome to publicly execute me if u so wish ❤️ (u deserve at least THAT after reading this 💔)

no tag list bc i thought that this was very heavy and i did not want to tag my moots+followers in this lest this trigger them:(

anyways, ty anon for the ask !!! probably (definitely) NOT what you had in mind... but those were my thoughts 🥲

[kamotecue]

the one that got away ❆ l. williamson

pairing: leah williamson x fem!reader

summary: after you had torn your acl, it was deemed that you weren't able to return to your football career. so, what happens when you pursued something different, that the one you love, ended up being the one who got away? singer!reader

agony was what the blonde defender felt, it was the agony of losing you - the one that got away, for the english captain it was a relentless ache, the haunting melody of memories that lingers long after the music has stopped. her silent screams, the tumultuois storm of her emotions that threatens to consume every one of her thoughts and feelings. it was definitely a rollercoaster ride of emotions, the experience you both had together as a couple - the deep sense of grief and loss, the emptiness feeling that was impossible to feel, how every thought is consumed by the memories of you - how you'd both dance in the rain, her watching in amusement as you would always make blanket forts during movie nights, how she held onto you close as if you were going to disappear, and lastly, her favorite - the way she'd kiss you in private, how she showed you what it's like to be loved.

yet there it was, the winter of 2011 - you had suffered an anterior cruciate ligament injury making everything fall down, as much as you tried there was nothing that you could do. and so, you had left the football world, despite being the arsenal prodigy. a knock was heard, as you gazed at your bedroom door - the blonde defender had carefully opened the door, she looked at your eyes to see them filled with tears, knowing how this moment would change everything. your career ending injury, the one you sustained was not just a blow to your body, but a devestating blow to your dreams. you had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, to reach the pinnacle of yourcareer, only to have it all taken away in an instant.

"i won't be playing alongside you, as we thought, lee." your voice broke as you buried your face into the crook of her neck. the blonde reaching to softly rub your back, in an attempt to calm you which it did. the sniffles was heard throughout the house, yet all she could do was be there for you. it took you a while to accept circumstance, so you moved onto something else - music was the second, no third thing you loved - besides football, and the english defender. a year later, you took off into the music industry with a storm - you decided to form a band with your childhood friends, performing in sold-out stadiums, releasing a whole album - and it was even worse when the band had even gotten more famous.

in the early days, the love between you two was a bright flame, burning fiercely and passionately. but as your music career soared to unimaginable heights, the glare of fame cast a shadow over their relationship, changing everything. you had never anticipated the level of fame and scrutiny that would come with the band's success. everywhere you went, you were followed by a throng of fans and paparazzi, eager for a glimpse into your glamorous life. in which the pressure to maintain your image became suffocating, and you knew that any hint of scandal could spell disaster for your career. asmuch as you loved the blonde defender, you also knew that being seen with her in public could invite unwanted attention and speculation. that's why you couldn't bear the thought of her being surrounded by the media, or having her privacy invaded - as she loved being private. and so, with a heavy heart, you made the painful decision to push her away, thinking it was for the best.

at first, lee was confused and hurt with the way you acted, the unnesscary coldness. you tried to explain it, to make her understand the pressure you were under, but the damage had already been done, the trust between you two had been shattered, despite your best intentions - it couldn't be repaired. so as the distance between you two grew, your love began to wither and fade - the bright flame that had once burned so brightly was now nothing more than a flicker, barely illuminating the darkness that crept into the relationship. in the end, you were alone - your fame and success, a hollow comfort for the love that you'd lost. you often find yourself pondering, if you made the right choice, if pushing her away had been the only option, but deep down, you knew that the price of fame had been too high, and that you'd always regret the day that you'd let her slip away.

yet there you were, in front of her eyes - performing in front of 90,000 fans. she still loves you, and a part of her is hoping that you still do. and you do, you still do - there are countless nights were you're looking up at the hotel ceiling, a lingering ache in your heart for the love you had lost, the one that could've been yours if fate had not intervened. you'd often wondered how things could've been different if the acl injury had never happened, perhaps you would've never pursued music with such fervor, instead choosing a quieter life by her side. the lazy mornings spent in bed, tangeled in each other's embrace, and peaceful evenings watching as the sun would set, hand in hand. but reality was cruel, and the injury shattered not just your dreams but also the future you had envisioned with her. and as the final notes of your song had faded away, you closed your eyes, imagining for a brief moment that she was there in the crowd, that the blue eyes you had fallen in love with - and when you opened them, she was. a wide smile was seen on her face, as you noticed the tears in her eyes that were begging to drop, she was watching you with pride and love.

the crowd had cheered, as you looked away - greeted them with a small smile, as you bid goodbye. her eyes followed as you left the stage, a concerned look was seen throughout your bandmate's eyes. the crowd began to leave, one by one - yet a dazed look was shown on her face, you saw her, yet you haven't made the effort to do anything. maybe you shouldn't, maybe you couldn't or maybe you didn't have to.

"come on, lee - the concert is done." beth, her club and national teammate said, as a soft sigh was heard. she didn't notice a tour staff had walked her way. you had given orders to invite her teammate's backstage. the defender had only looked up when she took note of the unfamiliar ones, her eyes locked onto someone in uniform, the lanyard confirming that she worked for, or with you.

"ms. williamson, i presume? i was ordered to give you these backstage passes, as well as to escort you backstage." the worker said, as her eyes gazed to the passes in her hands, beth and a few others, their eyes had widened in shock. she slowly stood up before nodding to the girl, as every step began to feel a bit heavy for the defender, you walked back in forth in your changing room - wondering if it was the right choice.

it was, as the team had been led backstage, leah had caught the eyes of your three childhood best friends - people that she also knows, as she formed a friendship with the trio while you were dating. an amused look was seen on oliver's face, as he stood up to greet the team.

"never thought i'd see you again, lee." oliver's charming voice was heard, catching the eyes of his two other bandmate's "childhood friends". a soft smile was shown on archie's and adeline's face.

"neither did i" the english captain's voice was calm, gaining the attention of oliver who softly hummed.

"we've missed you, but she misses you more." oliver replied, he gazed at your dressing room door - it opened, revealing you.

[neil-gaiman]

Hullo, Neil!

I am so glad that I was able to come see you and the wonderful magnificent live performance of Signs of Life at Sydney Opera House, I was making some sketches somewhere in the front rows while the show is happening, it was an exceptional seat for a night of sketching.

Here are some of the sketches of you that I think came out alright, despite I was doing them in the incredible work of dramatic lighting arrangements.

I don’t have enough words to describe how thrilled I am to be able to hear you sing in person, at such close proximity. I have always enjoyed your singing, and I like how you sing, even when you say you are terrified of it. Since the release of the album I have been obsessed with listening to it during trip and walks. It is unimaginable how your voice, reading and words has been providing the stability in my life, even in the darkest hours your singing will still be my calming pill.

As it’s such a common feeling but I just immensely adore the wittiness you have that in no way I can even try to replicate that just by using the same words. At the same time I am deeply touched and comforted when the emotions creep thru your voice your line your words.

And here are some more sketches I’ve done before and after meeting you, hope you enjoy these as well.

and finally I’m glad to say that I have completed my collecting journey for Signs of Life and am looking forward to any more album from you in the future.

*i apologise for possibly multiple ask, i appear to have internet problems

Those are wonderful!