#you would have loved lorna shore man.

[sarenhale]

Konrad Curze, Night Haunter, or cooler more fucked up space Batman

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

concert, part 2

part 1 | part 2 | (cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw smut)

The concert is a fucking blast. König and I are headbanging in unison to the songs blaring from the speakers and I love seeing the wild expression on his face. It’s exactly how I imagined it. Lorna Shore is also an amazing live experience, my god. I think I’m gonna have a bunch more lines on my face because every breakdown is bringing out my stank face.

Most of the concert goes well, without any incidents. Most of it.

If it wasn’t for the guy who almost knocked me off my feet running past us to the moshpit. König catches me when I topple over, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me up again. The look on his face as he stares down the guy that just shoots a little “sorry” in my direction is downright abysmal that for a moment even I get a bit scared.

And I grab his arm putting my whole body weight on it when I see that he wants to go after the guy. “König, please, I’m fine.”, I shout at him, pulling on his arm to get his attention on me.

He stops, turns around and leans down, coming face to face with me. His eyes search it for any indication that would go against my claim, his hand cupping my cheek, the thumb softly caressing just once. And I just want him to do it again.

“I swear, I’m fine, it happens. I’m not made of glass.”, I explain to him and do a little dancydancy to demonstrate that my limbs are still working.

That pulls a little chuckle from him and he finally relaxes. Nodding, pulling back, and then he straightens back up, re-taking his position right behind me like my own personal bodyguard. And I lean into him again, shamelessly so, somebody might even call it ‘snuggling into him’.

I’m feeling touchy and I maybe would have had a guilty conscience if he didn’t do the same. His hand skimming over my naked arm, him pulling me against him when somebody pushes past us again. His big burly arms framing me. And it feels good. Oh, so good.

Luckily the heavy music blasting from the speakers is distracting me from the attractive man at my side, so I can keep some of my sanity while I try and tell myself that this totally is just two strangers going to a concert and not at all a date. Mh-mh, not a date.

I push those thoughts away and will myself to stay in the moment and let the music carry me away. I’m already getting tired and sweaty from all the jumping, shouting and moshing I’ve been doing, but also the concert is slowly but surely coming to an end.

I jump up a bit, going on my tiptoes, but I can’t see the band members on stage through the sea of bodies in front of me. König leans down, one of his hands on my shoulder.

“Everything okay?”, he asks me, loud against the noise, his breath skitting over the shell of my ear, and I ignore the tickling feeling that this elicits.

I turn to him speaking into his ear as well. “I don’t see anything.”, I complain to him. “But this is my favourite song.”

“You wanna sit on my shoulders? I bet you’d have a better view from up there.”, he suggests, patting said shoulders. They do look like a very comfy seat. Or a comfy leg rest. *cough cough* Get yourself together and the mind out of the gutter, I tell myself.

“Uh, sure.”, I say, totally not sure how this will work. He pulls his hair to the side and just leans down a bit, hoists me up at my waist and places me on his right shoulder. He holds up his hands and I grab them as I reposition myself, slinging my leg over the other shoulder, so that my thighs are now resting on both of them.

I didn’t factor in that I’m only wearing a skirt. The fabric is bunched up, which means that there are only the two thin layers of my panties and my tights between his neck and my pussy. Great. Just peachy.

His hands grab my thighs, his fingers digging into me, holding me steady and save. I’m so high up, so I can see everything, but right now my attention and more importantly the attention of my body is on the man whose head is between my thighs – so to speak.

“All good?”, he shouts up at me and I shout back a “yes”. Holding onto his head, making sure not to pull on his hair. But I can’t ignore the way it feels silkily smooth underneath my fingertips. I resist the urge to run my fingers through it and focus on the concert going on in front of me, joining in the refrain of ‘Dancing like Flames’.

And so the 'Pain Remains' Trilogy plays out with me on his shoulders experiencing the end of the concert with maybe the best seat in the house.

“Did you have fun?”, he asks as we leave the venue.

I’m doing double time on my steps to keep up with his long strides and the adrenaline from the concert still coursing through my veins turns my almost running into skipping along. “Yes, I did.”, I say smiling up at him.

A cold gust of wind blows through the street and a shiver runs down my spine which makes me slow down and cross my arms in front of my body.

“Wait, here, have my jacket.”, he says, slowing down as well, already putting the worn leather onto my shoulders.

I pull the piece of clothing tighter around me, getting enveloped in his scent while the smooth fabric of the inner lining skims against my skin. “Thanks.” We’re making our way to the car and he opens the door for me again, just like he did before.

“So, do you feel like you kept up with me today?”, I ask him then, a sly smile forming on my lips. He shoots me a look, an intense one, before he closes the car door. The look alone should have totally shut me up. But it doesn’t.

“So, how does it feel to still be out past your bedtime, old man?”, I continue as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

He doesn’t even look at me while he puts the seatbelt on and pushes the key into the ignition. “I’m glad you were more well behaved when we were at the concert.”, he says, a light gravel in his voice. A sound that does stuff to me. A sound that makes me brave and stupid.

"Do you know what a brat is?", I ask him and amusement paints my voice. I’m enjoying this way too much right now. Teasing him in person is so much better than over text.

He fully sideeyes me, pulling up one of his brows, then he turns his head to look at me. His gaze is heated, but I can see the restraint in it as well. He slowly tilts his head to the side and at the same pace the grin on my face falters, melting away. The hairs in my neck are starting to stand up and I have to suppress a shiver of excitement. From him just looking at me like I'm prey, someone to chase down, someone to devour.

"I'm familiar with the concept.", he says nonchalantly, leaning a bit towards me, when one of the corners of his mouth tips up. "Do you know what a brat tamer is?", he asks, smirking at me. And my brain short-circuits. My jaw drops, my chin is on the floor, figuratively speaking.

He laughs, short and darkly, as I'm still recovering from the sentence he just dropped. He straightens back up and fiddles with the ignition until the car starts.

"Sit up straight and put your seatbelt on for me, Liebes.", he says, his voice getting all authoritative. The tone makes my spine stiffen up and I do as he told me. He laughs again, seeing how I'm following his orders, when he shifts the car into gear. Without even looking at me, he drawls: "Good girl.", and I fold like a goddamn lawn chair. The little sigh dropping from my lips telling him (and me) exactly how this is making me feel.

He doesn't say anything, so I glance at him while he pulls onto the street. The smirk on his face is cocky and self-indulgent, his hair is still swept to one side and my god, the jawline with the scruff 5 o'clock shadow is doing stuff to me. The mental image forming in my head is so not safe for work.

Me splayed out on the bed, my front to the mattress. Him kneeling over me, his knees framing my ass as he's buried balls deep in my pussy. His strong hands have a tight grip on me, pushing me down into the soft sheets while he fucks me deep and slow, his hair whipping back and forth when his hips snap forward, his groin pressing up against the soft pillows of my ass repeatedly. Praise is falling from his lips, telling me that I'm his good girl, that I'm doing so well for him, that I feel so fucking good while his hand spanks my booty, alternating between my left and right cheek, reddening the skin with every slap.

His chuckle, the real König chuckling at me while driving, is pulling me from my dirty daydream and I can't help the blush forming on my cheeks. "Now where did you just drift off to?", he asks me.

"Nowhere.", I say, trying to deflect.

"Uh-huh.", he pulls up his brows, totally not believing me.

“Well, what did you expect when you told me-“ I lower my voice and mumble: “that you’re a brat tamer…” That pulls a laugh from him, a sound I’m already addicted to.

“You mean like when you told me that you’re a little brat?”, he throws back at me. “Two can play that game, Fräulein.”

I tilt my head to the side, but I can’t argue with that. “Touché.” I feel like we just dipped our toes into some unchartered territory that made everything a little bit more sexual than it already was, a little clearer where this is headed – probably sooner than later. Because even if we keep making jokes and bringing up our age difference (which I still think isn’t that bad), I can feel the pull of attraction towards him. And with the way he keeps looking at me, I’m sure he feels the same way.

We were flirty in our texts and we were touchy all evening. I remember the way my thighs hugged his neck when I sat on his shoulders. How his fingers dug into the pillowy flesh, holding me tight.

The way his arms closed around me, shielding me off from the people around us. Me shamelessly leaning into him, relishing the way his body feels against mine. How I felt safe at the concert with him as my personal bodyguard.

And every single thing heightened the feeling of need, of want, of desire that was already there when I saw him sitting at that table at the pub.

I try to hold off from squirming in my seat, having a hard time keeping my cool, especially when my eyes wander to him all the time while driving. How his knees almost graze the steering wheel, the way his knuckles strain when he grips it. His hair falling over the side of his face. The tattoos, the shirt he got hugging his biceps just the right way, just… every single detail.

I spend the ride home trying to keep my thoughts holy, but I can’t. His image and my imagination don’t seem to mix well.

He pulls up to my apartment complex, parking the car and turning the engine off, but he keeps the sound system running. He turns to me and the sentence I wanted to say gets stuck in my throat. I wanted to thank him for taking me to the concert, making me feel safe. Very obviously going out of his own comfort zone to accommodate me. Even when we still didn’t know each other for that long.

But the way he’s looking at me shuts me up before I can start talking. His gaze is intense, just like before and the effect is all the same. And I can’t tear my eyes from him, drinking him in.

“Don’t look at me like that.”, he says, not breaking eyecontact.

I bat my eyelashes at him, feigning nonchalance. “Like what?”

A little growl drops from his lips and the sound sends a wave of need between my legs. Like I even needed more of that. He leans a bit forward, inching closer and closer. “Like you want me to do something about this tension between us.”, he whispers, low and darkly.

“Maybe I do want that.”, I answer and he doesn’t need more encouragement than that.

His hands grab my face, his fingers tangle in my hair, and he presses his lips onto mine. His hold on me is soft, but the kiss is fiery. And for the first time I can really feel that he wants me as desperately as I want him.

I grab him, his t-shirt, pulling him against me. I can feel his broad chest under my fingertips, the warmth of his body, the hard muscles that I also was snuggled up against before. His leatherjacket falls from my shoulders and pools around my hips.

“Fuck.”, he grunts against my lips, letting one hand drop down to push the car seat back. He pulls me with him, onto his lap, my thighs spreading over it. His hand brushes down my back as his mouth finds mine once more to kiss me, feverish, demanding, needy. And I answer it with the same fervor, brushing my tongue against his, moaning as I taste him for the first time. The flavour of beer that we both drank cutting through his own scent.

He grabs my ass cheek, squeezing it through the fabric of my skirt and the touch is making me squirm in his lap, grinding onto him. I feel his hard length against me, straining against his jeans, my tights and panties not really being a barrier as I roll my hips, relishing the feeling of the fabric on my wetness. The feeling of his dick right underneath me.

“Do you wanna come upstairs?”, I breathe against his lips. I almost add that I don’t want to give my neighbors a show, but that seems to be a little on the nose.

He pulls my head back a bit, his eyes searching mine and I can see the unbridled lust in them. Other than that, it seems like he’s exercising restraint, stopping the movement of my hips on his lap. “If we do that, we’re gonna fuck.”, he states matter-of-factly.

His words colour my cheeks red. “I guess so.” is all I manage to say because the imagination alone is already making me hotter than I was before.

His gaze flits between my right and left eye, back and forth, like the answers are already pouring out of them. “Are you sure you want this?”, he asks softly.

I break eyecontact and nod because this whole interaction is making me shy all of a sudden. The brattiness is gone.

His hand that was still tangled in my hair strokes down the side of my face until his fingers grab my chin and turn it up, to make me look at him again. “Use your words, Liebes. Do you want me to fuck you?”, he rewords his question.

My breath halts in my throat and for a moment my mind goes completely blank. I just stare at him, swallowing down the nervousness I feel. “Yes.”, I answer him, my voice steadier than I would have expected.

He pulls up one of his eyebrows, looking at me like he’s expecting something more, the serious expression on his face turning heated and cocky.

“Please.”, I whisper which earns me a satisfied growl as he captures my lips again. The kiss is sloppier than the ones before, he bites my lower lip which sends a zap of pleasure right to my core and makes me moan against his lips some more.

He pulls back a little bit, his hot mouth pressing small pecks to my cheek and down to my neck, all while scooping me up and opening up the car door. He presses me flush against him as he gets out the car with me in his grasp, making sure I don’t bump my head on the car frame.

My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers digging into his shoulder, holding onto him, my thighs resting against his hips, while he locks the car and just uses one arm to steady me, like I weigh nothing. Well, to him I probably don’t.

Determination in his step, he approaches the building and I dig into my little bag with one hand to get the keys to my flat.

part 4

~ or More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

[darth-maya]

The song of the day is

LORNA SHORE - Pain Remains Trilogy

Trigger warning for the music video: self harm and suicide

Its not necessary to watch the video to understand the songs, it just adds some extra context to the story. The songs themselves don't get as explicit as the video does.

Ya'll asked for the wall of text, so here it is. Before I dive into these 3 songs on their own I first will give you the context of the album that this trilogy is the final act of.

Once we get to the trilogy, though, the music videos are very good but very heavy topic wise. If you're really interested, I would recommend pulling the lyrics up as well as catching everything he says is damn near impossible.

"Pain Remains," an album by Lorna Shore, tells the story of a character who has experienced a great loss in his life and uses the ability to lucid dream to escape from the pain the real world has caused him.

Throughout the album, he hones his abilities to become the God of this dream state world he has created. With his new abilities, he even gets to the point of creating life in their own image. He creates man from his own memories, yet this still does not fulfill the void in his chest. After everything they have accomplished, they still aren't happy. If this could not provide fulfillment for them, then what's the point.

The world becomes an inescapable purgatory for them. After wandering and looking at all they have created, they become full of rage and want to see the world they've created burn. If it could not fill the void in their heart after all of the work they put into it, then why should it exist. He then has a glimpse of hope. Some sort of light begins to guide him to what he hopes is his escape.

They do not explicitly say what this light is, but based on these lines and the title of the first part of the trilogy "Pain Remains I: Dancing like flames" I assume what he saw was the face of his love that he lost before the album began. He saw the light of his love dancing like flames ahead of him, leading him out from this purgatory of his own creation.

Now, this is where the trilogy begins with the first part

Dancing like Flames

This opening line is both about the dream world he has created, and his love he rediscovered while in it. Both of those things captivated him. The dream world became his escape from the loss of his love, but seeing her again will be his escape from the dream world. Both meant so much to him in his life that turning his back to either seems impossible now.

Although that slowly changes as he begins to focus on seeing her again in the dream world and reflects on the time they spent together alive.

At this point he immediately falls for them again, only to realize it is only a creation in his dream world. He can see them, but they are no longer real. This is just a creation based on memories of this love he once had. They know exactly how to get to his heart, but he knows its just a game.

A lot of this song is detailing his love with this woman, and how quickly and surprising it was to him. They had the perfect love story, only for it all to be taken away in the blink of an eye. What I love is its as if he is talking about his past love as well as the dream world at the same time. Both are things he dedicated a lot of his life and love to, which now feels pointless to him. His love, because she was taken from him far too soon, and the dream world, because it could not fill the void that she left.

At this moment he is coming to terms with the fact that he is lost, and has lost the last bit of hope he had about ever being found. The dream world he has created is pointless to him now. He has lost any purpose he had being here, but he knows returning to the real world may be even worse. Those lines lead directly into the final closing moments of the song where he says.

The love he once had is gone. In its wake it has left him a shell of his former self. If he alive anymore? Does it really matter at this point? If the world that he carefully designed to be in his own image could not fill the void left behind by this woman, than what possibly could? He feels caught between 2 options, but doesn't want to choose either of them.

This song directly leads into the second part

After all I've Done, I'll disappear

This is when it starts getting really heavy, especially in the music videos. He has truly given up all hope.

In this world he was using to escape, he now see's piece of his former life spread throughout it. In his attempts to escape from his pain, he engulfed himself in it. His own personal purgatory which he desires nothing more than to escape from.

He now knows this has to end. He must escape and put an end to this world.

There is only one way to escape though. He is going to burn his world down, and disappear.

Which is where we'll lead into the final part,

In a sea of Fire

After this songs lengthy string intro, they dive into what might be the heaviest song on the album. Will Ramos (the lyricist) said this about this song

Which is a very evident theme in this song as he begins by tearing this world apart in his lyrics. Describing it as a "ceaseless existence" and later on as "an echo, a murmur, a broken melody"

Leading directly into the chorus, which to be a little less formal here, is some of the most metal shit I've ever heard in my life that I shamelessly will be stealing for villain monologues in my dnd campaign.

There is only one route for him now. This world must be destroyed, and he is going to do it himself. Every bit of rage and emotion he spent all this time fleeing from is now all rushing out of him at once.

If even in his attempts to escape he has cocooned himself in the pain he was running from, whats the point? The world is a complete lie, built upon memories of a world he long has deserted. One he would rather die than have to return to. He will throw himself into the fire, and burn away.

One key detail is in an album absolutely full of breakdowns, these 3 songs only have the one, which happens towards the end of this song. Leading up to it he says

He realizes this world was not helping him. It was only masking the pain. But he now realizes that no matter what he does, he can't escape that pain. The only solution now is to burn down his world, and end his own life along with it.

The final climax of this song is them replaying the chorus one last time, it being the biggest and most cinematic moment, as the song immediately fades away to have a bit of a synth moment, only to build back up and leave us with the final note of this trilogy, and the album as a whole.

I have already made a long winded post about this portion, so a lot of what I say is going to be me repeating myself, but this truly is one of my favorite moments in music across any genre.

This is literally the epilogue of the album, where he then lays his soliloquy.

which is almost explicitly the titles of the 3 parts of this trilogy. As Will himself said, this song is a very bittersweet tragedy of an ending to a devastating album.

The narrator spends the entire album creating a world in an attempt to escape from the void that the lose of the love of his life left him with. No matter how much he accomplishes, it all must come to an end. After all that he has done to escape it

The Pain Remains

[mlmxreader]

No Different | Tom Hanniger x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: "Please don't be scared of me" tom hanniger x m!reader

summary: Tom is worried sick about telling you that he’s mentally ill 

tws: depictions of psychotic disorders, brief mentions of hallucinations, anxiety, heavy mentions of ableism towards psychotic people, swearing 

note: non-psychotics can interact but don’t be fucking ableist cunts 

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Sitting nervously at the edge of the bed, Tom twiddled his thumbs and chewed at the inside of his lip, bouncing his leg as he watched you so carefully; to him, you were his everything, the only man he ever even considered being with for more than just one night, and although he never explained why he wouldn’t let you go near the mines, you never seemed to mind. Usually, people minded that kind of thing, and would ask questions; but you didn’t, in fact, you didn’t really seem to care if he was honest, and he liked that, he appreciated it.

You were humming to yourself, making him perk up a little as he listened closely; ‘Into the Earth’ by Lorna Shore, one of your favourites. It made him relax a little, his thumbs ceasing to move as he laid his hands in his lap; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous, he knew that you wouldn’t think any less of him, but he also knew that when he told people about his psychotic disorder, they tended to be… frankly, fucking vile cunts about it. They treated him like he was a demon, like he was so horrible and like he was some awful being who deserved to be demonised; they treated him like shit.

Tom didn’t want you to be scared of him because of something that he couldn’t help, something that he wished he didn’t have but couldn’t fully get rid of; it wasn’t his fault that he was mentally ill, it wasn’t his fault. He knew that, he knew it wasn’t something that he had chosen in life, but he couldn’t help but to think that, maybe if he told you, you would suddenly become like anybody else, you would suddenly treat him like everyone else did.

He watched you for a few minutes more, tilting his head to the side as his green eyes caught the light of golden hour, flecks of perfect cold within the virescent; he listened closely to your humming, getting lost in it for a moment as he swallowed thickly. He cleared his throat when you finally turned to him, and he smiled sheepishly.

“Baby, can we talk?”

You nodded, coming to sit beside him, your hand resting on his thigh like it always did. “Sure thing… what’s wrong?”

Tom scratched at the back of his neck as he looked around nervously for a moment. “I, uhm, I have a condition.”

“Okay,” you nodded again. “You don’t have to go into detail, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s…” he paused, hesitant to say the word. “It’s a psychotic disorder.”

You shrugged. “Okay.”

“Please, don’t be scared of me,” Tom murmured. “I promise, I’ll never hurt you, I’ll never-”

“Tom,” you said softly, bringing your hand to his cheek as you forced him to look at you, a small smile on your face. “I’m not scared of you, I can never be scared of you… unless you put a cup of tea in the microwave, then I’ll be scared because that shit comes straight out of a fucking horror film.”

He laughed softly. “You mean that?”

“Yes,” you told him, sincerity and honesty in your voice. “I love you, Tom, and just because you’re mentally ill, it won’t change that… but, at the same time, if you want me to do anything - reality checks, double check things for you, anything - I’ll do it for you.”

“I don’t think I need that right now,” he admitted. “But, thank you.”

You could tell from the way that he kept his head down slightly that he was still worried, and you wished that he wouldn’t be; you wished that he wouldn’t be so worried about telling you something like that, but all the same, you knew far too well what other people were like when it came to those things.

Calling him names. Triggering him on purpose just to induce an episode so that they could have a laugh at his expense. Mocking certain symptoms. Despising him for what he was, yet using terms like ‘dissociation’ to mean zoning out. Excluding him from spaces for mentally ill people solely because of what he had. 

You knew how shitty people could be, and although you wished that he wouldn’t be around you, he had good reason to be worried and nervous.

“Say,” you dared to grin. “You wanna help me fold all the washing, then we’ll get into bed and have a film marathon?”

Tom nodded, grinning back at you. “I would actually really appreciate that.”

“Come on, then,” you gestured for him to follow, but Tom wanted you to know that you didn’t need to.

He would have followed you anywhere, would have gone with you to look at new bins if you had asked him to; he felt safe with you, he didn’t feel the isolation and being pushed out the way that he did when he had told others, he didn’t feel like you were suddenly going to be scared of him when he experienced hallucinations that scared the life out of him. He knew you wouldn’t. He trusted you enough to take your words for gold, and he was so, so glad that you were safe, that he was safe with you and around you.

The way you looked at him had not changed in the slightest, either; you still had fondness in your eyes, and you still grinned when you caught him looking at you. Nothing changed, maybe he didn’t need to worry as much as he did  before he told you, but then you paused, and he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“Just so you know,” you started, “if anyone ever has a go at you, if they ever make a snide remark or say something fucking vile - I’ll knock their lights out. You just have to give me a name… and, if you want to, there’s space on the whiteboard for any triggers you wanna avoid.”

“Valentine’s Day,” he said quietly. “And the mines.”

“Alright,” you nodded, pulling him in for a quick but soft kiss. “So, on the fourteenth, we'll chuck the blankets in the tumble dryer for an hour so they’re warm, we’ll sit down, and I’ll finally get you to watch River Monsters with me, yeah?”

“Sure,” Tom agreed. “Sounds good.”

It meant more to him than he could say, to know that you weren’t one of those freaks, one of those vile cunts, who immediately became beastly and ghastly towards him over something that was not his fault, something that he did not choose; you would protect him, support him, keep him safe. 

He had the best boyfriend in the world, and he knew it, and he would show you that that was how highly he thought of you. 

[ca11istee]

get to know me tag

@autumns-veil thank you for the tag 🖤

Last Song:

i love me some will ramos istg 🖤👀

Favorite Color: 🔶🧡🟧🟠 (but it changes frequently between the secondary colors)

Currently Watching: technically not me but my partner is in the middle of castlevania: nocturne, and he just finished the live-action one piece (so i’ve seen the majority of both & i forgive pirate clown man for terrorizing tumblr a few weeks ago)

Last Movie: 65 million years ago (but if i was tagged on this upcoming friday it would have been v/h/s/85) 

Relationship Status: in a relationship (for almost 9 years omfg how old am i)

Current Obsession: phantom liberty and sleep token. my brain is half johnny silverhand and half vessel, and idk how i am still a functioning member of society 🤷‍♀️

Last Google Search: “st pancras old church sleep token” lol, i wasn’t kidding about the obsession thing. here have a neat photo:

no pressure tagging❤️  @miss-jennifer-cormier, @seraphfighter, @sacrecoeur-art, @glitchinginthegarden

[montammil]

Is this considered heavy for Lawrence/Charlotte? Or is this about as heavy as either could stand? (Genre: Rock)

Lyrics: Shinedown – How Did You Love Lyrics | Genius Lyrics

Would Charlotte like this? Could Lawrence be able to stand this?

(Genre: Deathcore)

Lyrics: Lorna Shore – Sun//Eater Lyrics | Genius Lyrics

I've established in my headcanon/fanon that Lawrence would enjoy this. Charlotte too, but I don't know enough about her psyche yet to develop a full opinion. (I gotta go back and analyze her!)

(Genre: Dark Pop?)

Lyrics: Lana Del Rey – Dark Paradise Lyrics | Genius Lyrics

But yeah, I do think he'd enjoy this because it speaks to his inner fears of his beloved's tragic passing. And even though he is y'know all yandere now I think it's well I interpret it as he is projecting his wife onto (Harper?)

And is trying to rush himself in grief. As well as trying to go back to that peaceful safe feeling that is as referenced in the song "true love".

I don't think he is over his wife at all. But I think he's repressed it (Maybe it could be because he feels inferior for these emotions, since he is a man and y'know how guys are typically raised.) and it's manifesting in these behaviors because his trauma was triggered making him all kidnapper yandere.

Which I think is so interesting because it begs so many questions! Like this isn't a typical response, but it's his and y'know how he lives with it and what he's done/doing...

I think he knows it isn't right and has a guilty conscience. Especially since I imagine since you have made it clear he wasn't always like this. Whereas Charlotte just seems to be like this cause that's just her. There was no catalyst. She just is this way.

Hence her no mercy and quick to kill attitude.

I think you made it clear Lawrence is deeply chasing love, love he lost from his wife, and love he wasn't able to get in his childhood.

Ofc that's how I interrupt him.

Nothing he does is justifiable. But I thought explaining my thought process on him would be helpful in figuring out what is the what's with him.

{Then it turned into a meta 👀}

It is just so interesting how he's so tragically broken. And I thought it was so cool seeing him explored. In the little ways that've been touched upon.

It really makes me wonder how it all plays out, his inner monologue or does he avoid his inner monologue best he can because somewhere in there that guilt is still fresh?

I think I am right because thus far you said I was right on the money so Idk, hoping I'm right this time. At least with some of it.

For the first song, yes!! I think it does give heavy Lawrence/Charlotte vibes!!

For the second song, sadly no, I think Charlotte would sadly not like deathcore very much, BUT this is a song Nathan would like a lot!!

And the third song, yes, he would enjoy this!! He doesn't like modern music much but I do think he'd like Lana Del Rey a lot. I can also see the lyrics really fitting Lawrence with Nadia (his wife).

Everything you analyzed about Lawrence and Nadia is correct! He also does very much project her onto Harper because Nadia and Harper's personalities are very similar.

And Charlotte is just this way because... she's this way. I personally did this also because I just like "villains" having no reason to be evil, they were just born like that lol.

Lawrence's inner monologue is either him justifying every shitty action he makes, or sadly thinking of the past--his mother, Nadia, even Sadie and Nathan, and wondering what he could've done differently while also still justifying his downright cruel actions, hence not really improving his behavior.

He doesn't talk about his emotions to almost anyone because he doesn't like feeling vulnerable, and his feelings are too complicated to even put into words. All his repressed anger and sadness sometimes comes to bite himself and others in the ass for that reason.

But yes, mostly everything, you were exactly right! You seem to have Lawrence's mindset down (and Charlotte's too!!).

[ghost-in-the-hall]

✨when you get this you have to put 5 songs you actually listen to, then tag 10 of your favorite followers✨ (non-obligatory)

Thank you for the tags @atorey-kane and @scentedcandleibex I adore you both 💜💜 I'm a bit of a music freak so these songs change literally all the time. I'm also gunna give context for the kind of vibe these are because I'm extra and I love to talk about music lol

1) Haunt, The Cartoon Heart - Bear Ghost

A really fun funky song! I find it to be somewhere a cross between whiney pop punk (affectionate), 70's surfer guitar riffs, and an underlying circus music feel(?). Kind of spooky, kind of romantic, it's the only song I've listened to so far from this band but it's very good!

2) To the Hellfire - Lorna Shore

Will Ramos is an absolutely insane vocalist. Really really heavy death metal. Lots of chunky guitar, thick drums, ugh I just love it so much.

3) Cha Cha Cha - Käärijä

I'm definitely not immune to the storm this funky little Finnish man has caused. I absolutely love this song, it's so fun. This song always makes me want to dance, I use it a lot to hype me up at work. It's starts very bass heavy almost club music esque with a tonal shift midway that turns it into a bright upbeat pop song it's such a great song!

4) Call of The Wild - Powerwolf

It was so hard to pick just one Powerwolf song. They're my favorite band of all time and I could ramble on about their music forever. This song in particular is what I use to practice belting. Attila has such a powerful voice that I personally think brings such a unique sound to power metal. That paired with clean, sharp guitar, my ever favorite addition of the organ into metal music, and an absolutely fantastic drummer I highly recommend any song by them but this is definitely one of my favorites.

5) Monstrance Clock - Ghost

This song has to be in my top 10 favorite songs of all time. It's so haunting. It definitely feels like something that should be playing at a satanic mass. I absolutely love the beautifully harmonized wall of voices repeating the chorus at the end, it sends chills down my spine every time.

I'm horrible with tags so sorry if you've been tagged already but I'm gunna tag @ramblingoak @mustluvecho @belnovacaine @spookyghostjelly @moss-the-moth @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @kissingghouls @copiousloverofcopia and anyone else that would like to join!

[saintveil]

Hands Like A Devil (Remember My Misery, Part 4)

Lorna Shore, Tallah

Will Ramos/Justin Bonitz

Warnings: Self-harm, General Drunkenness, Vomiting

Will was home now. Justin promised he would call hours ago, but he couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he sat in his dark apartment while Max paced the room, not holding any anger back verbally. Justin rested his back against the wall, watching as Max moved, but not listening to a word he said.

The room smelled of blood, cheap alcohol and whatever red candle Max was holding. Justin was too drunk to know, or care. He had turned to drinking for comfort again. It must have shown in the way he was texting Max, because the drummer didn't believe him when he denied it. If Justin was being honest, he was right not to. Max suddenly stopped, pointing the candle at Justin in an attempt to see his face in darkness.

"You're not even listening are you?" Max said.

Justin didn't respond, earning an exasperated sigh from Max. He sat down next to Justin, putting the candle on the floor between them and giving him a light tap on the knee.

"We're worried about you, man. The path to self-destruction is a short one. You gotta turn back while you can." Max said, trying his best to be patient with his friend.

"Get that goddamn candle away from me." Was all Justin said.

"Yeah, I probably should. You're so drunk you might catch fire near an open flame." Max replied.

"Do you have to be such a dick?"

"Do you have to keep putting yourself in danger, and refusing all help offered?"

The silence afterwards was thick, and suffocating. It was awkward for them both. Suddenly, Justin's phone began ringing from the kitchen for the third time that evening.

"I don't know who the fuck keeps calling, but it sounds important." Max said, growing impatient.

"It's Will." Justin replied.

"And you're ignoring him?" Max said, angry once again.

Ever since Will and Justin had started dating, the other members of Tallah had all taken care of Will. He had met them only because he was dating their vocalist, but soon enough he had become part of the family. He was gentle, and sweet. Justin was a loose cannon. They knew that, and tried to protect Will.

"I'm texting him and telling him you're okay, and we're hanging out. He doesn't need to know you're drunk and ignoring him." Max said, unlocking his phone.

Justin put his hands over his eyes, trying to block the light radiating from the screen. His hands still smelled like blood. Max hadn't noticed in the dark, and the scent wasn't yet distinctive to him. Justin hoped it never would be. He knew he'd feel this in the morning. It felt like nothing now. It just felt wet, and a little gross as the blood dripped down his sleeves. But he ignored it, focusing more on the sound of Max typing.

He missed Will. More than he was caring to admit. But Max had been right, that knowledge wouldn't be good for him. His letter was sitting next to Justin. Will had forgotten to give it to him, but he'd know Will's handwriting anywhere. He had read it obsessively, again and again for hours. He hated himself for getting blood on it. Will had worked hard on something so beautiful, and sweet, and Justin had ruined it. He was only trying to hurt himself, the fruits of Will's labor was only collateral. 'Fitting.' He thought to himself. Finally, Max spoke up.

"He's not responding to me. I love you man, and you're my best friend, but if you hurt him I'll kill you." Max said.

"Oh no, I wouldn't want that." Justin laughed sarcastically.

Max blew out the candle and stood up, offering Justin a hand.

"Where are we going?" Justin asked.

"We're walking to the nearest church. It's only a few miles away. The walk should help you. If you're not at least halfway sober, and forming coherent thoughts by then, we'll walk to the next one. You're lucky they're everywhere in this fucking town." Max said, helping Justin off the ground.

Max held onto his arm as he fumbled to get his shoes on. He was exhausted, drunk, and missing a lot of blood. In fact, he was still bleeding. But he'd live, or at the very least, survive. He shoved Will's bloody letter in his pocket, just in case he didn't.

When he was ready, Max yanked him out the door. Justin was lucky he lived on the bottom floor, considering he could barely walk down stairs sober. The street lights glowed a golden color as they walked through the parking lot. It was raining hard on them, adding to Justin's discomfort. Max didn't like it either, but he would endure it to help his best friend.

°•°•°

They had stopped on the side of the road. Justin was on his knees, throwing up in somebody's yard. Rain poured on his back heavily. Max waited patiently, keeping a steady hand on Justin's back.

"That's it... get it all up, we've got a long walk ahead of us." He soothed.

But it didn't help. The only thing that could help in that moment was Will. His desperate, clingy tendencies were stronger than his pride.

"Has Will responded yet?" Justin managed to choke out.

"I don't know, but I can check." Max said calmly.

Waiting for Max to unlock his phone and open his messages felt like eternity as he threw up. He could hear dogs barking in the distance. He was aware of all his surroundings at this point, waiting.

" 'I hope you guys have fun. Give him my love when you get the chance.' " Max read aloud. "That's the last message I've received from him. If he's sent anything else, it was after we left an area with signal."

Justin felt relief wash over him. Will still loved him, and he didn't know about the situation he was in at the moment.

"What's the point of this walk, again?" Justin asked, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Ew, remind me not to touch your arm. It's to get you sober, and thinking clearly. Besides, maybe you'll think about how other people feel after this." Max replied, smirking.

"Fuck you. Let's go." Justin said, climbing off his sore knees, and continuing into the dark.

His legs were weak, and his wrists crusty with dried blood. His sleeves were sticky and he felt close to passing out. But he pushed on.

Tears stung his eyes as he kept thinking about Will. He was so beautiful, and sweet. He didn't deserve this pain. It wasn't his fault Justin had these problems. It wasn't his fault Justin was addicted to pain, and blood, and struggled to get by without it. Will shouldn't have to take the pain that came with loving him.

He cried at the thought of Will alone, and neglected. Max rubbed his back as they walked, but it didn't help as much as he hoped.

°•°•°

The sun was beginning to rise when the church came into view. It was getting hard to keep his eyes open. His legs wanted to give out on him. They had twice already. Max had given him a minute or two both times, before helping him off the ground. Justin kept pushing himself. He was so close. Just a little bit farther.

The sun was giving him a headache already and it wasn't even fully up yet. His breathing was getting heavy as they approached, and sweat and rain soaked his shirt. His whole body ached. Max seemed to be fine, aside from a little bit of sweat. Then again, he wasn't drunk and bleeding when they started this journey. When they reached the parking lot, they sat together under a tree.

"You did great. How are you feeling?" Max asked.

"Thanks, I feel like shit."

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

BUTCHER BABIES' Cover Of SAWEETIE's 'Best Friend' To Be Released Next Week

BUTCHER BABIES' cover version of rapper Saweetie's chart-topping single "Best Friend" will be released on October 28. A teaser for the song's accompanying music video is available below.

BUTCHER BABIES have been performing their cover of "Best Friend" at their recent live shows.

Speaking to Spain's EMP about their decision to cover "Best Friend", BUTCHER BABIES co-vocalist Heidi Shepherd said: "It's basically a song about [me and fellow BUTCHER BABIES singer Carla Harvey]. 'Cause we've been best friends for so long. We were a band together prior to BUTCHER BABIES. It's a cover, and we figured we can't think of two better people to cover this song besides us. So it's fun."

At this year's Brutal Assault festival in Jaromer, Czech Republic, Shepherd and Harvey spoke to Metalshop about the band's upcoming fourth studio album which was recently completed with producer Josh Schroeder (LORNA SHORE, KING 810) for a 2023 release. Heidi said: "We released a barrage of singles throughout 2020 and 2021, and we're gonna follow that up with a full-length album in 2023. But we're also going to finish out the rest of this year with a bunch of singles from that album. So we're very excited. We played one new song today from that album, called 'Best Friend'. And it's been going over really well. So we're very excited. I know it's been a while, but it'll be worth the wait."

Asked why it's better to release singles than a full-length album in 2022, Carla said: "I think we live in a time where people want things right now; they want new stuff all the time. And I also think that when you release a single, people have a chance to digest that song, fall in love with that song before they skip to the next one and the next one and the next one. We really like developing a song on its own, making a video for that song, telling the story of that song, because every song is special to us."

Added Heidi: "We put our heart and soul into every single song that goes on the album. We don't just half-ass any of the songs, and so we want to make sure that it gets the life and the attention it deserves. And so I think we're just gonna continue this way and just leak it a little bit at a time and keep it going."

In a separate interview with Bloodstock TV, Carla stated about the recording process for the new BUTCHER BABIES LP: "It was a really cool experience. We got to sit together for about six weeks in the middle of nowhere — a very, very small town in Michigan — and just create together. And we had an Airbnb with animal skulls all over the place. And we just sat there in the snow and created probably our best album to date. So it was a great bonding experience."

Heidi confirmed that "Best Friend" will be included on BUTCHER BABIES' new effort.

"We've been playing one of the songs on these [European] festivals," she said. "One of the songs that we've been playing on these festivals, it's called 'Best Friend' and it's a cover from the hip-hop artist Saweetie featuring Doja Cat. And for us, being best friends, we thought it would be the best way to do a cover — a hip-hop/metal cover — since we've been best friends for, man, nearly two decades."

When Oran O'Beirne of Bloodstock TV suggested that some BUTCHER BABIES fans might object to such a diverse combination of musical styles, Carla said: "We haven't changed at all, because some of our earliest songs were similar. We've always run the gamut throughout our music; we've never stayed with one style. Most people love about BUTCHER BABIES that we have a death metal song and a thrash metal song and then a poppy radio song, and whatever mood they're in, we've got a song for them."

Added Heidi: "What I love about being in a band like this and being around musicians that we all see eye to eye is that we can do different things; we're not pigeonholed to one certain sound. Sometimes we wanna get up and we wanna scream and we wanna be angry bitches, and then sometimes we wanna sing and we want people to hear what we feel from our hearts. And I think that that's important as an artist, to be able to do both."

Carla continued: "And judging by the audience reaction when we go from one very, very heavy song to one lighter song, they love it. They have literally the same energy for both kinds of music. They want it too. People want the freedom to be able to like different types of music."

BUTCHER BABIES' latest album, 2017's "Lilith", was produced by Steve Evetts (THE DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN, SEPULTURA, SUICIDE SILENCE) and marked the band's recording debut with drummer Chase Brickenden, who replaced Chris Warner in 2016.

In July 2019, longtime BUTCHER BABIES bassist Jason Klein announced his departure from the band. He has since been replaced by Ricky Bonazza.

Last year, BUTCHER BABIES embarked on a headlining tour, "Butcher Babies Vs. Goliath", which saw the band performing its debut album, "Goliath" — released in 2013 via Century Media Records — in its entirety along with recent hit singles and new material.

Hailing from the City of Angels, BUTCHER BABIES have released two Eps and three albums to date, with "Lilith", debuting at #1 on iTunes Metal chart and #7 on iTunes Rock chart. The band kicked off 2021 by independently releasing a handful of newly energized singles produced and co-written by Matt Good (FROM FIRST TO LAST),including "Bottom Of A Bottle", "Sleeping With The Enemy", "Yorktown", "Last Dance" and "It's Killin' Time, Baby!" The latter was inspired by the DC Comics character Lobo, a heavy metal bounty hunter.

[theunboundwriter]

Musical Asks Challenge

Thanks for the tag @itsbrittbeyotch I had a hell of a time.

A fun little game to see the diversity of your music taste.

Rules: Do NOT repeat songs and ONLY use songs that you have listened to in the last 6 months

1. Songs you like with a color in the title

Blu - Jon Bellion

2. Songs you like with a number in the title

1980s Horror Film II - Wallows

3. Songs that reminds you of summertime

Dog Days Are Over - Florence + The Machine

I've Been Dead All Day - Bayside

Why Do You Feel So Down - Declan McKenna

4. Songs that reminds you of someone you would rather forget

Anna Sun - Walk The Moon

Bullshit - Dune Rats

5. Songs that needs to be played LOUD

Rob A Bank - Confetti

Feed The Machine - Dead Mans Poison

Blonde Hair, Black Lungs - Sorority Noise

6. Songs that makes you want to dance

I'm The One - DJ Khaled (feat. Justin Beiber, Quavo, Chance the Rapper & Lil Wayne)

Hollaback Girl (Metal Version) - Leo

7. Songs you must SCREAM

The Drug In Me Is You - Falling In Reverse

My Heart Needs To Breathe - The Faim

8. Songs to drive to

Sex Sells - Lovejoy

Rot - DBMK

Ma Chérie (feat. Kellin Quinn) - Palaye Royale

Especially You - Wallows

Sober - FIDLAR

9. Songs that makes you happy

Projector - Set It Off

Another Song About Tequila - Tequila Mockingbird, Bohnes, Hudson Thames

Bella Ciao - Manu Pilas

10. Songs that makes you sad

Dirty Paws - Of Monsters and Men

Mother - Small Pools

Puff The Magic Dragon - Peter, Paul and Mary (Don't Judge Me)

Cancer - My Chemical Romance

11. Songs that you never get tired of

Shit Show - Peter McPoland

Straight Jacket - Theory of a Deadman

Life - Mother Mother

12. Songs that make you feel a certain way

All Time Low - Jon Bellion

Viva La Vida - Coldplay

Heathens - Twenty One Pilots

Twin Skeleton's (Hotel In NYC) - Fall Out Boy

13. Songs that made your childhood

Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men

Hey Soul Sister - Train

Some Nights - fun.

Somebody That I Used To Know - Gotye, Kimora

14. Songs you would love to be played at your wedding

Just My Soul Responding - Amber Run

15. Songs that are covered by another artist

I Got You - Train

Hot Girl Bummer - ANSON

Teenage Dirtbag - Cavetown, chloe moriondo

Evermore - Tethra

16. Songs that are not in your native language

ZITTI E BUONI- Måneskin

Amour Plastique - Videoclub

17. Songs from the year you were born

Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes

18. Songs you would sing duet with on karaoke

Men Are Trash - Scotty Sire (@itsbrittbeyotch Taco Bell drive thru flashbacks)

E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE! - CORPSE, Savage Ga$p (@lexilouu yeah u know)

Carnivore - Bear Attack! (@bing1314 this has been stuck in my head for the past 8 years)

19. Songs that makes you think about life

Weak - AJR

Guns For Hands - Twenty One Pilots

20. Songs that have many meanings to you

I'm Gonna Win - Rob Cantor

Next Up Forever - AJR

Think About Things - Daði Freyr

21. Favorite songs with a person's name in the title

Achilles Come Down- Gang Of Youths

Nancy Mulligan - Ed Sheeran

Ramona - Jukebox The Ghost

Judy You Hung The Moon - HARBOUR

22. Songs that move you forward

Fuck You World - Rare Americans

Riot - Hollywood Undead (this song makes me feel like I could fight God)

23. Songs you think everybody should listen to

King of the Clouds - Panic! At The Disco

Misery - blink-182

Spiderhead - Cage the Elephant

Summer Is A Curse - The Faim

24. Songs by a band you wish were still together

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da - Remastered 2009 - The Beatles

25. Songs by an artist no longer living

Wake Me Up - Avicii

26. Songs that make you want to fall in love

Someone To You - BANNERS

27. Songs that break your heart

This Isn't The End - Owl City

28. Songs by an artist with a voice you love

Gasoline - Halsey

House of Memories - Panic! At The Disco

29. Songs people would be surprised you listen to

To The Hellfire - Lorna Shore (the last few seconds of this song y'all)

Brutus - The Buttress (this song lowkey scared me the first time I listened to it)

30. Songs that remind you of yourself

Ghosting - Mother Mother

parents - YUNGBLUD

Bugbear - chloe moriondo

Sad Forever - Anthony Amorim

I invite anyone who sees this to join in! I had lot's of fun, but it literally took me about 3 hours

[wanda-peitro-lorna-maximoff]

Chapter 4

Part one here:

_____________________________________

Morgana was 16 now. Itd been a year since her father Uther announced she would be of marrying age. At the very least of age to be promised to someone, and it was easy to say that Morgana was not pleased at all. Arthur had tried to sway their father, as gently as he could without angering him, but Uther wasnt having it. The old man was already confined to his room, sick beyond repair, and he 'had to make sure his children were taken care of.' It didnt matter how. It didnt matter if Arthur would be miserable as a young king, or Morgana miserable as a house wife; as long as they were taken care of. And that's when Morganas teen rebellion really kicked in. Everyone knew about it, Morgana would sneak out late, making it incredibly easy for anyone to find her going to see her latest 'crush' of the week. She didnt mind the gossip-- she even welcomed it. The one suitor who had been at the castle when he heard about her 'cheating' - which, for the record, the prince had only asked Uther to court her; never morgana herself- was absolutely mortified. And Morgana couldnt have been prouder. Gwen and Arthur were... reasonably a bit embarrassed, but they had about as much of a chance of stopping her as Uther did. And if Gwen was really being honest, she found it hilarious. All Morgana had to do was ask for a kiss from a fair lady and the busybodies in the castle would get to work.... unfortunately the more it happened the more Gwen and Arthur were less amused. Gueinivier couldnt quite put her finger on it but it made her stomach turn whenever she saw Morgana kissing some other lady... Arthur was more annoyed in general, in a brotherly way.

But today seemed different. A lot more relaxed... no one was giving her letters from princes' or kings, and no need to ask for more favors from the ladies in the town or working in the castle. The perfect day to get up to something with Morganas favorite people in the world... Gwen and Arthur. ... well, Gwen was definitely a favorite, arthur really got on her nerves a lot, but he was still her brother. So that's what brings us to the now. Gwen and Morgana walking through the forest in comfortable silence... Arthur had unfortunately been roped into another meeting with the king and the round table, so the two thought to make it a girls day. As they walked, Gwen couldnt help but let her mind wander, glancing over to Morgana... it was true, the Pendragon siblings were both very good looking. Anyone anywhere would love to be their king or queen... but gwen loved them beyond their looks. Morgana was mischievous, mysterious and bold. Arthur was strong, dependable and kind... the two put her head in a tizzy. But with Morganas.... escapades lately... she couldnt help but give the witch the cold shoulder. The secrets and kisses from other girls were funny and cute at first but now they had gotten a bit more frequent... a little more bold. And unfortunately, Gwen was far too good at hiding her true intentions because Morgana hadn't even noticed anything was wrong. Sure she had acted a little off at times but, times were strange now... with her fathers declining health and tensions on making sure Arthur was ready to be king...

... and then Gwen nearly jumped out of her skin. Her thoughts were so abruptly interrupted by a sudden presence that she let out a squeak in suprise. the suprise guest in question laughed at her reaction, along with Morgana.

Mab had been watching the two for a few minutes, waiting for a good moment to suprise them and drop from her place in the trees. "Hello you two." Mab put her arms around the girls. Admittedly it had taken her a while to accept Gwen even as an acquaintance. But what really sealed the deal for Mab was Gwen's pure, genuine fascination. Whenever she looked at magic and its byproducts her expression held nothing but amazement, wonder and fondness. And if anything, Mab wanted to keep amazing her, just to see that look on her face. It never failed to make her laugh. "I'm suprised you're both out today..." the princess trailed off, and Morgana groaned. "Its been absolute hell back at the castle." She rolled her eyes and slumped her shoulders for emphasis, to which Gwen chuckled and shook her head. "They... that is, Arthur and Morgana... have had their hands full to say the least." Gwen further explained to Mab, who got a thoughtful look on her face before replying. "Sounds like you've come to the right place to decompress then." She winked at the girls before wordlessly leading the way further into the woods...

"Ahhhh...." Morgana sighed in relief as she sunk down in the fairy made hot spring. She didnt realize how much tension she was holding in her neck and shoulders until now, but the hot water was absolutely amazing on her muscles. All that running away from terrible princes, knights and responsibilities does a number on ones self she supposed... "Are you two done yet?? The waters going to get cold." Morgana called through the thick veil of greenery to Mab and Gwen, who were currently whisper fighting with eachother. Since neither girl was exactly ready for a suprise swim, Mab had let them borrow some of the stollen goods she... acquired as offerings in her woods. People who dont want to be kidnapped, killed, cursed or worse always left her a little something at the threshold of her home. And the few cloaks she'd acquired she allowed Morgana and Gwen to use... they were her least favorite anyway. But honestly, Mab didn't see *why* you needed to cover up around others while you swam, showered, bathed, etc. It was a completely foreign concept to her, but she got a kick out of the red faces from Morgana and Gwen she just told them both to hop in. "I cant just go in! What if its... not secure enough." Gwen gestured to the 'swim-suit' Mab fashioned for her. "Well, then itll fall off. What do you *think* would happen?" Mab hissed back at her sarcastically. "You'll be fine. Its not like she'd bite you.... well..." Mab had to reconsider that. Gwen shoved her arm and the faerie princess grinned. "Follow my lead." She said confidently, Gwen watching as Mab strutted out. She had her usual attire on. Not uncommon, since it looked like the plants that made up her base clothing were just a part of her; but the few nice touches of clothing or signs of humanization were gone.

She stopped at the far end of the spring before jumping in and swimming over to Morgana with ease. "Come on Gwen." Mab said impatiently, and Morgana shouted after her. "Sooner you get here the sooner we can play water games!"

Gwen took a deep breath. Be brave. Just like them. She rolled her shoulders and closed her eyes, calming herself down before opening them again, now with new determination. Her nerves wouldnt get in the way of this rare day off. So, she took off running... and dove into the water. She could hear Mab and Morgana clapping and laughing above, swimming over to them now as she breached the surface. "That was amazing!" Morgana said with a big grin. "One things for sure we've got to do that together-- just... neyoooommm... " she put her fist in the water suddenly, making a splash. "See how big a splash we can make..."

"Well. One things for sure, the fun is only just beginning." Mab gave them a mischievous smile.

The fun was officially in full swing. Mab had invited a few fresh water sirens to come play a guessing game with them, and it only escalated from there.

Some of the river nymphs were playing as a referee for the games going on; some of the kelpies at the bottom of the hot-water would sing while a few of the fae would try and guess what they were singing. Some of the sirens were playing a competitive diving game with their treasures; bits of bone, a pearl or two. Whoever got to it first kept it. Which, without supervision quickly devolved into a bloody fight. A few of the not-so-water-resistant creatures were having loads of fun just on the shore, making flower crowns for any winners and not so subtly trying to help the contestants who they thought were the cutest. Morgana had joined Gwen in the kelpy game, since the creatures had a tendency to drag any losers down underwater and drown them... but Gwen was doing suprisingly well. Morgana was only a little bit jealous. Mab had split from the girls briefly to compete with the sirens, winning a few games and rejoining her friends once she had enough trophies of victory. They came to sit with eachother at the edge, all three of them smiling to themselves and basking in the fun. "So. How's your day off been?" Mab asked them with a grin. "Well considering Gwen's won more games than I... I'd say not so well." Morgana joked, making Gwen laugh. "Well, I can give you some pointers next time." She winked and nudged Morgana with her elbow; making Morgana blush just a little. "Well. Either way you both look just about ready to join the sirens with the way you're pruning up there. Let's get you two dry." Mab hopped out of the 'pool' and shook herself dry a bit. "Okay *mom* " Morgana teased as Gwen and her followed. "No you pronounced it wrong. Its MAB." Mab corrected her. Morgana wasnt super sure if she was being serious or not, but it didnt matter. Mab lead them to a closed off area where she stashed the twos clothing. "Once you're dressed we can do some land-games." Mab winked at them, squeezing out her hair. Gwen and Morgana went over and grabbed their clothes as Mab got some cloth to help dry them. The fae girl allowed them both a screen of ivy and vines to get dressed in a bit of privacy...

Today was... something else. Gwen couldnt remember the last time shes had this much fun. The amazing wonders around her filled her head with dreams and her heart with hope and longing for adventure... discovering more and finding things no ones ever seen before... but only if it was with her friends. As cliche as it was... she wanted Morgana... Arthur, even Mab there with her. Wherever the road took her. They completed her in a way she could never have imagined. She wanted to be there for them. Just as they would for her... Gwen had many friends as a child. But when her family moved to Camelot, all of it was ripped away from her. She wondered sometimes... if they thought of her. But the Pendragons and this magical world... took the heartache away.... but... recently? With Morgana..? The heartache returned... no it wasnt the same as before. No force on earth could take Morgana away from her. No, the heartache wasnt one of sadness... it was longing. So similar but so different. The heartache that belonged to Morgana was one that was bitter-sweet. Whenever she looked at her it was the feeling of coming home to a warm fire and sweet fruit.

So then... why did the thought of being with Morgana... hurt at the same time?

..she knew the answer. Arthur. She loved arthur just as she loved Morgana. And yet... not. They were so different but she loved them all the same. The kind of love she'd want to come home to and kiss before bed every night.... Arthur and Morgana... were her love.

Meanwhile, Morgana got dressed. Nothing in particular was on HER mind. No... but something was on Mabs...

The faerie peaked her head through to Morganas side. Seeing she was infact decent. Mab had been infatuated with Morgana for a long time. She'd known it in her gut. Shes told so many of her friends and they all dismissed it as wanting a pet. And shes seen fae have human pets... the feeling wasnt the same. For them It was control... dominance and cruelty. But Mab wanted Morgana for the very reason just to love her. When she thought about kissing Morgana her heart raced, when she thought about curling up with her, going to bed and waking up to see her face everyday... it made her heart hurt with how much she wanted that. Real love...

"Morgana." Mab began... there was a pause. "... Mab?" Morgana questioned her. She looked incredibly suspicious... was this the start of some prank? "I..." Mab stepped further in. "Wanted to tell you something." She crossed her arms loosely. Mab had never actually planned this part out. She always figured that somehow, someway, she'd just sweep Morgana off her feet and Morgana would have no choice but to practically marry her on the spot!.... but this was definitely not how things were going to go. Morgana was... difficult to really wow, or 'sweep feet'. "... okay." Morgana narrowed her eyes at the faerie, getting ready for some sort of prank or attack of some kind... Mab walked closer... and awkwardly put her hand on Morganas shoulder... and came in closer... until the side of her face touched the side of Morganas... okay so maybe it wasnt 'telling' her anything... Mab didnt even know if she could say the right words... but she hoped and metaphorically prayed that Morgana understood.

She did. It was an intimate gesture. Mab trusted her... to turn her face to her and keep her close; faces touching just slightly. This was big... and Morgana couldnt help the huge suprised grin that spread across her face. Off and on throughout their friendship she's thought about it-- being with Mab. Theres no doubt that they got along and shared so many things in common, but she never even dreamed that Mab would come to her first. And like this.

Mab slowly pulled away. Looking reserved and guarded, waiting for Morganas reaction... still hopeful she understood, and accepted. "So... you like me?" Morgana asked with her grin. Mab looked just a little insulted at that. "Of course I like you! What do you think I am? An idiot? It would be stupid of us not to court! We love the same things, we're already so close and we-" Mab was cut off by Morgana kissing her on the cheek. "Ah yes. How could I argue with such air tight logic?" She asked sarcastically. Mab was completely frozen for a moment. "Is that a yes?"

Morgana smiled. "Does this answer your question?" She pulled Mab back in and kissed her. The faerie could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She pulled Morgana as close as she could, and kissed her back... unbeknownst to them, the screen Mab created was falling apart into beautiful wild flowers to reveal the scene to Gwen...

When Gwen saw the two... she felt like she was going to vomit. Not out of disgust. Never. But she never thought that seeing her secret love and good friend kissing could break her heart so much... she just stood there. Frozen.... until Morgana noticed. And she laughed.

"Wow. Look at miss queen of the fae... cant control her plants when shes kissing." Morgana teased Mab, who was now red in the face, looking around to see Gwen and of course... no screen of greenery. "A-um- i- I can control them! I can do... anything!" Mab argued. Morgana laughed. "Does that include making your face go as red as my hair?" She asked. And honestly... in the moment... gwen couldnt help but laugh along..... it was better than being heart broken.

[m1ntcreamsoda]

OMG interaction on tumblr.com i’m shocked!!!!! lydz @hockeydilf tagged me in the top 10 songs i’ve been listening to currently!!! i’ve been in a really heavy deathcore/music of my emo days kick so please excuse all the teenage angst and brutal rage and random shit, leggo:

1. DARKEST SPAWN BY LORNA SHORE oh my fuckin goddddd!!!!!!!! so HEAVY AND YUCKY and black metal-esque omg!!!!! the best. out of all the times i have said i’m obsessed with a song, i never really knew what it meant to b obsessed. honestly. i got SERVED by this mf song. “none of us are fucking safe, in a sick world full of snakes”

2. my disguise by currents highly recommend this song even if u arent into heavy music, it’s more metalcore and less screaming

3. maleficium by lorna shore honestly the song and the entire EP (even tho my fave song on the EP is a toss up between uhhhhh lets face it ALL OF THEM gdi) tom barber’s voice is so powerful and the whole tracklist from start to finish is spooky as fuck and i love it. it gives me goosebumps. maleficium is the latin word for “an act of witchcraft performed with the intentions of causing damage or injury” per wikipedia and it matches the tone of the album in its entirety. HOWEVER what i love so so so so much about lorna shore, who are basically my perfect all-time favorite deathcore group, is that their lyricism in my opinion is far above their competition in the genre. most bands think every song being a variant of “fuck your religion/god” which yes i get the sentiment but its boring and worn out and lorna shore provides such a depth of emotion and a way with words that is only intensified by tom’s growls and thrilling highs jsjsksjzkzk okay i’m done

4. without me by halsey ...look i don’t know shit about this girl other than that baby pull me closer chainsmokers song but the moment i heard this i was HOOKED. BRUH. her voice in this song makes me MELT

5. wornout by traitors “my generosity has turned into a ball and chain, that’s the cold hard truth.. i’d stay the fuck away from me IF I WERE YOU” perfect for headbanging the FUCK OUT

6. imagine by ariana grande because lets b honest...who isnt obsessed w/ this song (is it problematic for me to say that i dont like 7 ringz)

7. do bad on my own by z-ro like i said this list is fucking random and while i acknowledge wholeheartedly that this is a bop, idk why it always fucking ends up stuck in my head!!!!! like i’ll be cleaning tables before the dinner rush and BAM the next 4 hours my subconscious elevator music playlist gets jammed on this track.....so involuntarily this is a top song in my spotify

8. hour of abhorrence by signs of the swarm after getting acquainted with lorna shore replacing tom barber with cj mcreery and of course tearing thru LS’ entire discography, i decided to check out cj’s old band and ONCE AGAIN i’m fucking obsessed with his old sound like the “senseless order” album is so PERFECT and hauntingly heavy. the intro to hour of abhorrence embodies that tone that reverberates through my chest and chills me deep to my bones!! perfect gym music too!!! love cj like have a huge fucken crush on him he’s so pretty

9. the conscience killer by a skylit drive TOTALLY fucking indulgent of my emo phase from age 11-15 but in all honesty a skylit drive will always be one of my favorite bands. she watched the sky (the best), wires, adelphia, identity on fire— ALL SO MONUMENTAL IN MY YOUNG ADULT LIFE. i remember going thru some shit and being so DEPRESSED but i would take my giant red cd player, plug into the outlet on the back porch and lie down in the sun and listen to indentity on fire cd on repeat. wow. the memories and the emotions associated with the songs are heavy!!!!

and last but not least.... (finally, right?😭😹)

10. no show by toro y moi like dude....i dont want to listen to anything but metal atm man but i was just reminded of this amazing musical group that my fellow metal-loving friend and coworker is seeing in concert right now. this song is heavenly i swear and it’s a bop u can get down n grind to. “my baby got fed up with my ego”

okay this is alot and if u made it all the way through thank you for sharing my thoughts and parts of my heart as i am connected to the music i love in thatnway!!!

💭💭🔅🔆fuck i’m so blitzed i almost forgot i have ti tag people so i choose @escarjorts @ursamini @clammylemon @egertin @jordanstaalsmugshot @buyerns please this is so fun to share your passions and seeing everyone’s unique musical interest! dont forget to tag me so i can go back and take a look at your list of top 10 current faves ;)) :$

[thisaintascenereviews]

The End Of The Year 2017 Part III: Top 20 Metal Albums Of 2017As I promised, the next list that I wanted to focus on is my top twenty favorite metal albums of the year. Metal is a genre that I’ve only been into for the last few years now, but the year has been so great for metal, I wanted to dedicate a separate list to it, so these are a ton of metal albums that I’ve been into all year.

20. Unleash The Archers – Apex 19. Iced Earth – Incorruptible 18. Kublai Khan – Nomad 17. Origin – Unparalleled Universe 16. ABHORRENT DECIMATION – The Pardoner 15. Suffocation - …Of The Darkest Light 14. Accept – The Rise Of Chaos 13. Thy Art Is Murder – Dear Desolation 12. Power Trip – Nightmare Logic 11. Aethere – Adrift

10.  Through The Eyes Of The Dead – Disomus

Okay, I’m going to be honest, a lot of my favorite metal albums of this year, at least in the top ten, are death metal albums. I got a few exceptions, but death metal has my heart. If you looked, though, I’ve got power metal, hardcore, deathcore, metalcore, and stuff like that in the back half, but the top half has mainly death metal, because that’s what I love most. That’s what this album is, but it’s an interesting one. This is the comeback album from deathcore band Through The Eyes Of The Dead. I wonder if they got their name from Cannibal Corpse’s “Staring Through The Eyes Of The Dead,” off 1994’s The Bleeding, because that would make sense, and it’s a kickass album. Anyway, this is their first album, entitled Disomus, in about seven years. This LP took me slightly by surprise, because they went more into a melodic death metal sound here. From what I’ve heard, one of their albums went more into a melo-death sound, but the album I’ve heard, which is the one before this, 2010’s Skepsis, was a back to basics deathcore album, so it’s interesting that they’d throw more of a melo-death sound into the mix, but it works. The only issue I have with this record is that they do throw in some breakdowns here and there, and I don’t think it works 100% well, just because they could have easily just made the leap to a melo-death band again, but it’s only a nitpick, since this LP still kicks a lot of ass.

9. Arkaik – Nemethia

See what I mean? We got another death metal album here, and there’s not a whole lot that I have to say about this one, because Arkaik’s Nemethia, is merely a generic tech-death album that’s just pretty damn good. I picked this up after hearing about them, and I definitely am a fan of tech-death (I love these death metal bands that take things to the extreme even further than what was already perceived as the extreme; I feel like someone like Chuck Schuldiner from Death would be pleased at how technical and complex death metal has become over the years. Arkaik is another one of those bands, and while they’re not a super unique band, they do what they do well, and that’s why I put it here. If you’re expecting some insane and deep meaning as to why I love this album, you won’t get it, because this album just kicks a lot of ass.

8. Incendiary – Thousand Mile Stare

I mentioned that I have some other types of albums here, too, not just death metal, and metallic hardcore band Incendiary’s new album, Thousand Mile Stare is here. Yeah, I’m sure I’ll get some, “Well, this isn’t real metal” comments, but I didn’t feel right putting this, a metallic hardcore album, with the non-metal albums, because it’s heavy, brutal, and a pummeling assault of hardcore with metal riffage. This LP is great, regardless, because it’s the kind of metallic hardcore that I love. It’s energetic, pummeling, bone-crushing, and interesting, as well as poignant and relevant with its lyricism. This LP is more on the angry side of political lyricism, but with the music itself, I don’t mind that, because it works. This thing isn’t a unique album, either, but I’ll be damned if it’s not an album that’s executed perfectly. I absolutely love this thing, and if you want to get into metallic hardcore, this is a great album to start with, because you’ll be able to get the gist of what the genre has to offer. I can’t say this album is super amazing, or that it’s like the most unique or revolutionary on this list, but that’s not something I really, really look for anymore. A lot of those albums can definitely make the cut, but for me, it’s what I’ve been coming back to most. If an album kicks a lot of ass, and is awesome, no matter how unique the sound is, I’ll talk about it, and this is one of those albums. I loved when I first heard it, back in June, and I love it now.

7. GUTSLIT – Amputheatre

Talk about an album that just kicks ass. I came across GUTSLIT while looking on Facebook, because another band that I’m really into, deathgrind band Logistic Slaughter, talked about them, and their new LP, Amputheatre, so I had to check it out. Goddamn, I’m glad I did, because this is some top notch deathgrind. I got into deathgrind last year, thanks to the band Aborted, and how much I freaking loved their last LP, Retrogore, so I’ve definitely been more open to listening to some deathgrind, and this band really hits the spot for me. I absolutely love this record. It’s 28 minutes of blistering deathgrind of the highest caliber. Like I’ve said with a lot of these albums, it’s nothing unique. I’m not going to pretend this band does anything differently, but if you’re a fan of deathgrind, or you want to get into it, this is a perfect album to listen to, because fans of the genre will be insanely pleased by this thing, and newcomers will get a perfect idea as to what the album is all about. I’m absolutely in love with this album, and for good reason, because it’s a fantastic deathgrind album that does what it does insanely well.

6.  Lady Beast – Vicious Breed

Okay, here’s something a bit different, at least something that’s not as brutal or heavy as death metal, tech-death, or death grind – traditional metal! Well, more so in the vein of the NWOBHM, because that’s where PA metal band Lady Beast falls into. I talked about this band last year, before they released 2016’s Metal Immortal EP, and they’re a great “throwback”-ish band to the days of Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Dio, just to name a few. I always love hearing stuff from this band, because they’re also a female-fronted band. Vocalist Deborah Levine is a great vocalist, and she’s got some killer pipes that work with this kind of music. Unsurprisingly, yeah, their new album, Vicious Breed, kicks a ton of ass. It’s a great traditional / NWOBHM album that captures that spirit perfectly. Now they didn’t do anything that other bands haven’t done before, and this album is really nothing different for them, either, but at the same time, I really like this album. They’re one of those bands that I could never get sick of hearing. They just have this sound that I can’t get enough of. If you enjoy 80s power metal, traditional heavy metal, speed metal, or the NWOBHM, definitely check out Lady Beast’s Vicious Breed. It’s easily one of the best metal albums of the year, as well as just one of the best albums of the year period.

5. Bind The Sacrifice – The Desecration Of Existence

Deathcore’s had a pretty good year. Albums from Thy Art Is Murder, Lorna Shore, Enterprise Earth, Shadow Of Intent, and tons more bands out there have been putting out some pretty good albums, but one album really struck me by surprise. That would be Bind The Sacrifice’s debut LP, The Desecration Of Existence. This band is awesome, because they remind me one of my favorite (former) deathcore bands, Veil Of Maya. Their new album, False Idol, is pretty good, but it doesn’t quite hold a candle to their first couple of albums. My favorite album from them is 2008’s The Common Man’s Collapse. I can’t believe that turns ten next year, because I first listened to that maybe a year after it came out. Yeah, I’m kind of old, but whatever. I’ve liked the direction that they’ve been going in, but I’m not super huge into djent-y kind of stuff, so I personally prefer their first couple of albums, where they were more of a tech-death band. Well, what if I told you that there’s a band that has that kind of sound. That would be Bind The Sacrifice, and their new LP, The Desecration Of Existence, which has a prog-deathcore sound that sounds like if The Common Man’s Collapse era Veil Of Maya combined itself with their current stuff. Well, their djent-y material, anyway, not necessarily adding clean vocals. Yeah, if you took Veil Of Maya’s classic tech-death sound and you combined it with prog-metal, you’d get this. This is some sick stuff, folks. This band, and this record, are some of the best deathcore you’ll hear all year. Personally, it’s my favorite deathcore album all year, because nothing has really been able top this.

4. Archspire – Relentless Mutation

If I had to pick a favorite tech-death album, well, that would go to Archspire’s Relentless Mutation. I decided to pick this LP up, just because I’ve been seeing their name around, but I had no idea what I was in for. This thing is amazing. It’s an album that really took me by surprise in the best ways. Relentless Mutation is what it says it is – relentless. This album manages to go above and beyond a lot of tech-death bands and albums that I’ve heard, because this album has a lot going for it. For starters, I was really surprised at how the vocals of this record were more percussive, versus going with the guitarwork. The vocals actually sync with the drums and percussion of the album, making for an even more intense listen. It’s not all the time they do that, but it’s still really cool. The instrumentation on this thing is absolutely nuts, too, and I love that there are a lot of slower moments on this album, because instead of annoying and pointless interlude songs, they use slower breaks in the same song to transition to another one. Not to mention, and the thing that I like most about this LP, is that it’s only half an hour long. This is one of those albums that I want to listen to again the moment I’m done, and what’s great about that is how intense, brutal, and technical this album is. It’s clear that these guys care a lot about the math behind the music, but they also deliver a technically brutal album. The album never becomes pretentious, exhausting, or starts to drag, because of how short it is. That also helps with the slower and breathing moments, as I call them, on the record, so you get a break here and there, but this is an album that I can’t get enough of. It’s absolutely awesome, and it’s an essential for every death metal fan, or tech-death fan.

3. Warbringer – Woe To The Vanquished

It’s kind of funny how things work, because I was in the process of getting my list almost finalized when I decided to pick up Warbringer’s newest LP, Woe To The Vanquished, which was released earlier this year. I heard about this LP, and it seemed like a thrash album that I might be into. Now that I’m getting more into thrash metal, I wanted to give some modern bands a go. Warbringer is a band that I’ve wanted to listen to for awhile, and holy shit, this album is awesome. This is thrash metal that is right up my alley, especially now that I know what I like. This band reminds me a lot of Exodus, Slayer, and Kreator. Those bands have a heavier, brutal, and more death metal-ly sound to their brand of thrash. Warbringer not only has a heavier, and more brutal sound, but they have some insane and intense guitarwork on this LP. The soloing, the riffs, and the overall speed and energy of this record is top notch. Not to mention, they make longer songs work, too, because the 11-minute closing track is a banger, too. This LP isn’t anything new, or really, really unique, but if anything, they’re similar to Power Trip (if you recall, I actually didn’t like Power Trip’s new album, Nightmare Logic, but I’ve been re-listening to that, too, and as you can see, it’s on my list now; it’s a really great album, but not quite great enough to be in the top, unfortunately), because they harken back to the classic days of thrash metal. Power Trip pay homage to bands that utilized more hardcore punk into their sound, whereas Warbringer brings to mind bands like Kreator and Slayer. In other words, bands that were heavier, more extreme, and that could easily be mistaken for a death metal band. Regardless, Woe To The Vanquished really took me by surprised, because goddamn, this album is awesome.

2. Cannibal Corpse – Red Before Black

This album might cause a bit of “controversy,” but not because it’s a bad album, just more so because Cannibal Corpse isn’t the most unique, revolutionary, or mindblowing band. I would say they weren’t influential, either, but mainly in terms of their music. They were influential, just how death metal could be kind of mainstream, and how insane a fanbase could be. I mean, okay, you had a band like Slayer with a devout fanbase, but Cannibal Corpse had a cult following behind them, and I think it was because death metal was beginning to really blossom around the time they formed. Red Before Black, their fourteenth album, is an impressive one for a couple of reasons. It’s impressive, because they’re almost 30 years in, and they’re still delivering great material, even though it’s essentially what we’ve already heard before, but they do bring some new ideas to the table. For starters, this thing is a bit catchy. I mean, listen to some of the guitar riffs, and tell me that it’s not catchy in the slightest, and it almost feels like frontman George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher is at the top of his game, because his vocals on this thing are nasty, but in the best ways. The reason I say this LP might be controversial to put at a high place in this list is because they’re a band that’s not known for diversity or even variation, and yeah, I can admit that. This sounds pretty similar to 2014’s A Skeletal Domain, which is the album that got me into them, but at the same time, I don’t mind it. Cannibal Corpse is meat and potatoes death metal, but that’s okay, because sometimes you need something like that. You’re not looking for fancy tech-death, which I would equate to a five-star restaurant, and in that case, Cannibal Corpse, and bands like them, give you exactly what you want. I’ve been coming back to this album a lot, and it’s because Cannibal Corpse is perfect for what I like. They’re just solid, awesome, gory, bloody, and brutal death metal.

1. The Black Dahlia Murder – Nightbringers

Like I said for my favorite non-metal album yesterday, this one shouldn’t be a shock to some people that have known my tastes for the last few years, as well as the last few months, because The Black Dahlia Murder’s Nightbringers, well, it’s my favorite metal album of the year. The Black Dahlia Murder was one of the first death metal bands I got introduced to, but when I picked up 2013’s Everblack, I knew I had to listen to more of their stuff, so I picked up everything they put out up to that point. I bought all of their music, and I was really excited for 2015’s Abysmal, and I really liked that album, too, but there’s just something about Nightbringers that makes me place this LP at the top of their discography. Well, among the top, I should say. This LP seems to bridge a lot of ideas together from their past work. You’ve got their classic melo-death sound, a lot of tech-death influence, some black metal influence, and even a lot of hardcore / thrash influence. The latter of all of those is something the band used to make themselves stand out, and it makes sense, because they’re awesome. According to Metal Blade CEO, Brian Slagel, he signed the band after hearing a song they put up on MySpace. How awesome is that? He must not be regretting that whatsoever, because The Black Dahlia Murder is one of the most important and revered metal bands in the death metal landscape today. This LP merely continues that, and it’s not like they’re rehashing themselves totally here. They kind of are, as a lot of death metal bands do, but they’re adding some new ideas here, all within the span of about a half hour. That’s the best part, because this album is only around a half hour, so it’s not very long whatsoever, and it’s an album that I’ve just wanted to keep coming back to over and over again.

[filosofablogger]

Good Monday morning, friends!  I hope you all had a fun and/or relaxing weekend.  Mine?  Oh, nothing much … you know, hiked up Mount Everest, paddled down the Amazon … just the same ol’, same ol’.  Okay, okay … I did next to nothing!  The girls and I did our usual lunch/bookstore trip on Saturday … I took a break from my blog on Saturday, by the way!  A whole day without writing a single post!  That’s the first time since sometime late 2018, I believe!  But, now begins another week, and I’m trying to psych myself into getting back into my household chores routine, because for the past several weeks I have seriously lacked motivation to do more than the absolute essentials.

Anyway, enough of that … there are treats on the table … I have no idea what, since I let Jolly prepare the table, though I baked the treats (you remember how Jolly is in the kitchen!)  So, grab a bite and let’s start this week of with some fun!

      Larry’s bacon

  Note to rawgod:  Note that all three plates of bacon are uniquely different.  Take whichever you wish, but take only one, please, for the others are for Emily and Larry!

When you go fishing, you expect to catch … er … fish, right?  Sure, you might get a surprise by catching a mollusk of some sort, or these days you might well pull up a net full of plastic bottles ‘n such.  But what you really do not ever expect to catch is a …That’s right … a bobcat!

Bob Hereford was out fishing on Flathead Lake in Montana, with his wife, son Brett, and the family pooch, when they heard something thrashing around in the water.  Bob very carefully steered the boat in the direction of the splashing for a closer look, and there he was, struggling to stay afloat, the little bobcat.  Son Brett gently scooped him up in their fishing net, and they drove the bobcat back to shore, releasing him on dry land.Experts say that while bobcats can swim, they typically avoid bodies of water, and they speculate that it is possible an eagle had picked up the bobcat and dropped him over the water.  Either way, all’s well that ends well, and this fish story had a happy ending!

It’s no secret that cats like to get ‘in’ things.  Leave a cardboard box lying around … before you can turn around, there’s a cat in it … well, if you have cats, that is.  When Orange was still alive, his favourite place was the fruit bowl!  A laundry basket full of clothes left unattended?  There will soon be a cat in it.  Every time daughter Chris is packing for a band trip, the cats love getting into her suitcase.Last week, Nick and Voirrey Coole – a couple from Isle Of Man, the United Kingdom – had scheduled their 40th birthday celebrations in New York.  When they went through airport security with their carry-on baggage, the security staff repeatedly asked them if that was their bag after it had gone through the scanner, they were puzzled.  They had purposely put very little into their carry-ons, for they intended to use them to bring back souvenirs.

The security staff unzipped the bag in question, and out climbed the Coole’s cat, Candy!  Nick later posted on Facebook …

“You know that feeling when you get ushered into a side room at airport security because you’ve got a cat in your hand luggage? Candy decided to sneak into our hand bag, thanks Barry and Lorna for picking her up so we can head off on our holiday. Fair play to airport security for helping to get her home so we could catch our flight.”

As one commenter, Richard Lee said, “Cat was obviously thinking, ‘I fits, I sits, I fly’”

How about a few houses, all decked out for the spooky season…

  Oopsie … my bad … wrong scary holiday!

Shay Bradley died earlier this month, and his funeral was held on October 12th in Kilmanagh, Kilkenny, Ireland.  As friends and family stood around the grave where the casket had just been lowered, imagine their surprise when, from down in the hole, came a knocking sound and “Hello … hello!” … more knocking … “Hello.  Let me out!  Where the f*** am I?” … knocking … “Let me out.  It’s f***ing dark in here.”

His daughter, Andrea, posted on Twitter …

“It was his dying wish that we played this at his funeral. What a man, to make us all laugh when we were incredibly sad. He was some man for one man. Love you forever Poppabear.”

I think we have time for just a few cartoons …

Alright, folks … time for us all to go forth and be useful … no, Joe, not multiply … you’ve already done your share of that!  Oh, but first … how could I forget the cute animal video?  This one comes to us courtesy of Colette … she saw it, and knew we would all love it!  It’s short, but guaranteed to bring a smile to your face!

And now, we must really go.  Jolly and I have so enjoyed spending time with you this morning.  Share those smiles, friends … some people seem to have lost their own!  Keep safe and have a wonderful week!  Love ‘n hugs from Filosofa and Jolly!

Jolly Funday Monday! Good Monday morning, friends!  I hope you all had a fun and/or relaxing weekend.  Mine?  Oh, nothing much ...

[davidastbury]

Ah, Lundun. Smells of weed, kebabs and sitting next to a man at the bus stop with a big box of economy Daz between his knees trying to crack a coconut on someone's garden wall :)).

Michelle Goldsmith

The Dreamer. 1962

From his bedroom window he could see how summer was expiring and giving way to Autumn. In the early mornings the landscape was obscured by low mists, as if changes were being made and, like in a theatre interval, we aren’t meant to see - and then it lifted and the leaves were a little more golden; the plant stalks were sagging even lower; the distant trees darker and with denser shadows, more blue than green. The wooden fence was slimy and speckled with moss and beyond it the meadow (Buttercup Meadow!) was like wet crushed velvet. Birds were circulating above the trees and thousands of creatures were preparing for the coming cold weather. Every tree, plant and animal knew exactly what to do ... he was entranced by the solemn purposefulness of everything - of the unquestioning and unquestionable perfection of it all. He was caught - hardly able to breathe, giving himself up to the voluptuous thrill of being part of the force driving every created being towards its own correct and individual destiny.

On the Train

Old couple. I bet they would agree with me if I said to them that the popular idea of long married couples ‘growing more alike over the years’ is a load of rubbish. You don’t become the same; you don’t develop a single mind; your souls do not ‘merge’. Instead, if the relationship is good, you actually intensify your individuality; you remain yourself; you do not deviate from what feels natural.

But there is something else - quite the opposite of the popular delusion. People who have been together for a long time take on a duty to each other for which there is no name. The only writer who has tried to illustrate this duty (the only writer I have come across!) is Rainer Maria Rilke, who refers to it as ‘...becoming the guardian of each other’s solitude’.

The guardian of each other’s solitude - magnificent,

Towards a better understanding of Hamlet’s Soliloquy

During the Elizabethan period most sensible folk would do anything to avoid doctors, depending instead on natural remedies for most of their ills. One such all-purpose embrocation was known as Gruffle, a mixture to be applied externally on the affected parts. The three main ingredients were Wormwood, Chamomile and Cowslip, pounded in a pestle and mortar and then stewed in Mead. When solidified it could be smeared, with a warmed spoon directly onto the skin.

Imagine, if you will, an Elizabeth bedroom, where, in the gloom of a seven watt candle, a typical hard-working couple grope their way to the bedstead. They toss off their heavy garments - the doublet and breeches; the corsets and ruffs and peer into the darkness for the pewter pot of Gruffle. The is a noise of small items falling onto the wooden floor - and then a voice rings out loud and clear - ‘Ay, there’s the rub!’

Nearly on the Train

Dad at the wheel and he’s going too fast on slow roads and too slow on fast roads - perhaps because he’s upset. Morning mists over the Cumbria moors and nearly fifty miles to Carlisle. Every visit home gets sadder; it’s like seeing a loved one becoming deaf - you do your best but they aren’t fully with you in the way they once were. The car passed the gate leading up to a farm; an old school friend now runs it - just a glimpse of farmhouse through the window condensation. There was no future for her here; she would never live here again; her childhood days on her friend’s farm, the village school, the church choir, the little shops, were becoming a closed book.

So...she would get the 10.50 from Carlisle to London - and then three days (and nights!) with her boyfriend before traveling down to the South of France. He was nice but couldn’t match the importance of her ambition.

She’s done two years at the Sorbonne and is taking a year of research at the university of Montpellier. Her speciality is C19 literature, particularly the work of Balzac. As the car swept through the villages it never occurred to her that all her life she had been surrounded by Balzac’s stories.

Watched a TV documentary on the life of Steve McQueen. Steve, apparently was deaf, and this added considerably to his sex-appeal. Let me explain. Struggling to understand what people were saying brought about his trademark facial expression - he would cock his head and narrow his eyes, which women found utterly irresistible.

My one good ear pricked up - in no uncertain terms - (as Holden Caulfield would say) - in no uncertain terms!

Ben and Lorna and Ian...........1966

I think I have mentioned Ben before; he was an old chap who, every evening during the working week used to occupy a bar-stool in the Bodega, Cross Street, Manchester. He was a widower, wealthy and weary - good suits and bow-ties, white beard and gold glasses, Coutts Bank, Russian cigarettes, and double measures of Irish whiskey. All the regulars knew him - and liked him.

One night I was drinking with Ian and his girlfriend Lorna. Lorna went to the bar to buy something and got into conversation with Ben. It went on for some time - Ian looking round every so often to see what was happening. Finally she left Ben and went to the toilets - again quite a long time. As soon as she rejoined us it was clear that she was upset. She wasn’t crying but she had that look - you know what I mean.

Ian didn’t miss out on this either; he wanted an explanation and she just sat and shook her head - I began to feel that I should leave them alone. The following week I met Ian and, into our second drinks, I asked him what had happened between Lorna and Ben.

Apparently it had been very difficult for Lorna to put it into words, but she tried. And now Ian, who had struggled to understand what she was on about, had the same difficulty in trying to explain it to me - and I now have the same difficulty, fifty-one years later, writing it.

Essentially - and incredibly - Lorna had felt during her short chat with Ben - that this elderly, elegant, sad old man was the only person, in all her nineteen years, who actually understood her.

Simon B

Simon came to Britain from Berlin in the Kindertransport system set up just before World War ll.

He was taken in by a Quaker couple who looked after him and with that sublime tolerance often found in Quakers, never tried to introduce him to their religion. Later, when it became clear that he no longer had a family, they formally adopted him. He found scholarships for his years through Grammar schools and then studied medicine. His chosen speciality was caring for sick children and he became a Consultant Paediatrician.

I have occasionally met him - the last time was at a Holocaust conference - where he was a guest speaker. I was near him during one of the breaks and caught some fragments of his conversation. He looked like everyone’s idea of the perfect English gentleman; the patient, kindly, slightly humorous voice; the top-drawer manners; the deference to the other persons viewpoint; the quick eye for peoples feelings and all the other qualities that are a delight to experience.

And I heard him say - ‘Yes, I have been back - and guess what? The factory is still standing!’

A Day at the Lakes.

It was a struggle finding somewhere to park the car but by luck and a bit of aggression he squeezed into a slot. For an hour or so they wandered the cobbled streets, drifting into a few shops, and then had afternoon tea in a crowded little cafe with tiny windows. He suggested spending some time ‘on the water’. Everything about the boy involved a story - he had a friend whose dad had a connection to the conservation authorities and....he had arranged to borrow a boat. All they had to do was mention the dad’s name at the marina office.

Soon, she was sitting prettily in a very narrow and elegantly varnished rowing boat. It had steel scrollwork at the passenger end, cushioned seating and all in all she wouldn’t have felt out of place holding a parasol. The boy started to row, enjoying being watched by queues of day trippers, and turned the boat towards the open lake. Her serenity was disturbed when she touched the water and the coldness surprised her. It would be awful to have an accident and have to swim - she would probably be helpless - she would panic and drown. He was rowing expertly, but he was also watching her - it was as if he could read her thoughts.

‘The water is three-hundred feet deep here’ - he said.

She knew he was the sort that would enjoy frightening her - that he might do stupid things, like rocking the boat side to side - and find it amusing.

But he continued rowing - they were a long way from the shore and he kept looking over his shoulder - heading for a small Island. She saw the small jetty and the painted sign with the words - ‘Private Island: Landing not Permitted’.

He said - ‘ It’s fine, don’t worry’.

Together they pulled the boat out of the water, dragging it into the waterside bushes, and then set about exploring the island. The trees took away most of the light and the ground was thick with pine needles. And then the trees ended and they found themselves in a sort of clearing - like someone’s back garden - a neatly trimmed lawn, flower beds and a wooden pavilion.

He tried the door and it swung open. She didn’t even look at him - she was tired of his irritating cockiness and was thinking of what she was going to do next.

once started work for a firm at about this time of year - the run-up to Christmas. It was an open plan office and most of the staff had worked there for years. Everyone knew what they were doing (except me) and there was a lot of proprietorial and territorial rules and customs to be observed - who sat where and who always had the first lunch break etc. I studied the various power groupings of the women and their likes and dislikes. The men, mostly dull and unhelpful, wanted to get through the day and then round to the pub.

Anyway, things were eased up as the holiday approached and the desks became cluttered with greetings cards. These people - or more accurately - these women, who worked together all day and every day, gave each other Christmas cards; and it was important to them that I wasn’t left out. My work surface was taken over by right pictures of robins and jovial Santas - placed surreptitiously on the desk by women I didn’t even know.

Given the chance I would throw this at every writer who has broken our hearts with the great love stories - ‘Yes, yes, yes - but you did not write about the “real one” - it is impossible to write about the “real one” !

Autumn Morning in Whalley Range ......1965

They had met at a party and had left together. They shuffled along, as young people do, jauntily kicking up the leaves, heading towards the main road, hoping that the buses had started. It was misty - the street lights acid yellow against a cold sky. They passed rows of Victorian villas that once-upon-a-time had servants in the attics and kitchens in the basements - now decaying and split up into flats.

You could hear their laughter in the silent street. And then - they stopped and kissed - just at the junction of Mayfield Road and Alexandra Road - near to the pub where there had been a stabbing.

R

R lost her mother at the age of twelve, and her father quickly remarried. She was the youngest of four; there was a eight year gap to her nearest sister. She left school at fifteen and took a job in a textile company where she learned to touch-type. At seventeen she became a receptionist at a dental surgery - but the job didn’t last because the dentist assaulted her. She was sacked and paid up to the day of the assault. It was around this time that she was also assaulted by her best friend’s dad. Her boyfriend was angry and went to the police. The desk sergeant listened to him and replied - ‘What you’ve got to understand son, is that men only do this sort of thing to women who give certain signals’. So that was that.

I think it was from then onwards that she really did give the ‘certain signals’. She entered and won a glamour contest run by her new employer. The advertising agency sent her to the Lucy Clayton school and she found work modelling. She left our town and as far as I know, never came back.

R. (and her boyfriend)

Following the second assault R’s boyfriend noticed a sharp change in her personality. After such shocks, at a vulnerable age, you might expect to see some sort of mistrust and withdrawal - instead she became aggressively extroverted and as far as men where concerned, very flirtatious. She viewed her exceptional good looks as the means to ‘get the better’ of every man she came across - she knew that she was irresistible.

All this was upsetting to her boyfriend. He was like the boy in the Arabian Nights tale - an orphan who begged in the streets and one day saw a diamond - a perfect diamond - lying in the dust. His joy subsided when he realised that every dealer in the souk would cheat him. R’s boyfriend wanted to keep her for himself, but she wanted to go dancing and drinking in clubs - places where she would make heads turn and provoke words of admiring insinuation.

The boyfriend was utterly unworldly - as innocent and wide-eyed as a lamb on the way to the abattoir. And the good friend advising him to finish with her - who consoled him and said he would soon find someone nicer - who bought him another drink and all the time had a R’s phone number scribbled on a cigarette packet.

[audreysreferenceguide]

Fabric of the Community

A wardrobe staple during and after WWII, Harris Tweed faces challenges as it goes upscale and gets an update.

By Emilie Marsh

on November 24, 2008

LEWIS & HARRIS, Scotland – “Not too fast, not too slow.” Wedged between golf clubs, garden equipment and boxes bursting with household paraphernalia, Neil Macleod sits in his garage, weaving dreams into Harris Tweed. “It’s tremendously satisfying; I clear my mind and imagine all the places where this piece of Harris Tweed will wind up,” says Macleod, pedaling at his loom, before pausing to pat his sheepdog, who sits obediently in her basket at his feet. “And it only can be made here on this small island on the edge of the world.”

Known as the world’s only commercially produced handwoven tweed, Harris Tweed has been used by Ralph Lauren and Prada, and inspired Coco Chanel’s famous jackets. But the pure virgin wool fabric all but fell into obscurity two years ago as production plummeted to one manufacturer. It’s only now, with the a revival of another mill and the fabric once again coming into fashion—inspiring work of Tom Ford and Thom Browne—that Harris Tweed is embarking on a renaissance. And the fascination lies in the history of the fabric. Just a few hours’ ferry ride off the western shore of the Scottish Highlands, islanders like Macleod on jointly connected isles of Lewis and Harris—part of the Outer Hebrides—have been weaving Harris Tweed for as long as anyone can remember.

The heavy fabric is protected by an act of Parliament, which states that Harris Tweed must be “handwoven by the islanders at their homes in the Outer Hebrides” and “made from pure virgin wool, which is also dyed and spun” there. Only after it has been inspected by the industry authority and awarded the symbol of authenticity—the orb with the Maltese cross, one of Britain’s oldest trademarks, since 1909—does the cloth earn the venerable moniker Harris Tweed.

“It just takes a quick glance at the nature here to see where the fabric’s inspiration comes from,” says Macleod, showing off lengths of tweed speckled with a kaleidoscope of Hebridean colors. “There is no other place on earth like it. You just fall in love with the landscape.”

And who wouldn’t? Rolling moors dotted with white sheep and blanketed by violet heather, peaty streams teaming with pink salmon and bleeding into electric blue seas, endless stretches of sandy, lemon-colored beaches. Macleod is one of only 100 active weavers left on the island, from as many as 1,000 around a decade ago, producing a mere 300,000 meters of the famed fabric per annum, compared with more than a million meters of cloth back in its postwar heyday.

Harris Tweed all but ceased existing several years ago when the biggest mill on the island was put up for sale. A handful of entrepreneurs from the mainland stepped in to try to rescue the industry, albeit with different visions of how. In 2006, Yorkshire native Brian Haggas purchased the Kenneth Mackenzie mill in Stornoway, which at one time accounted for 95 percent of all Harris Tweed production.

“[Harris Tweed] was and can still be an iconic brand,” says Haggas from his offices. “We’ve got a great product where there’s real nostalgia and fondness, where people’s eyes light up when you mention the name.” Believing that Harris Tweed “isn’t a fashion staple” but “a classic,” Haggas, who made his fortune in textiles, reduced the mill’s 800 patterns of Harris Tweed to just four styles and cut wholesale distribution of the fabric, choosing instead to ship the cloth to China.

There it is made into jackets for sale at retail. He took delivery of the first shipment of 70,000 jackets in September. Concerned that Harris Tweed would no longer be available by the bale, three Scots invested in two other mills, bent on maintaining supplies to the wholesale trade and preserving the gamut of cloth designs, which they and many others on the island believe are part of the local heritage. Scottish oil trader Ian Taylor rescued the Harris Tweed Hebrides mill in the village of Shawbost on Lewis isle in 2007. It had been closed for nearly two years. The mill, which once supplied Prada, Louis Vuitton and Ralph Lauren, restarted production in May.

“We had to act quickly and catch the tail end of the season in order to tell customers that Harris Tweed is not lost forever,” explains Ian Mackenzie, the mill’s chief executive officer, as he strolls through the plant, where stacks of raw wool await dyeing beside murky vats of liquid. “It was the lifeline for the island for 100 years. Society here was built on the back of Harris Tweed. It is a social service, the fabric of the community,” Mackenzie says. “From the land comes the cloth.”

“Harris Tweed is its own brand,” he continues, with a quick stop to show off a mélange of chopped up wool in various colors, which in seconds will be spun into yarn and shipped to the weavers, for threading into a specific pattern. “We will push it to its greatest potential back where it should be in the high-end market,” he adds, showing off the final process where rolls of fabric are washed and finished before being stamped.

A short drive from Shawbost, along the rugged coastline and through the misty moors that make up Lewis, the owners of the smallest mill on the island also have big plans for Harris Tweed. “What we have is a completely unique product,” says Derek Reid, who bought Harris Tweed Textiles in 2003, along with a shell of a mill. “It is handwoven. It has phenomenal colors. It has a heritage and culture that are quite simply unique and an act of Parliament protects it. So, you’ve got something that is iconic, desirable and capable of being fashion-related, but which needs leadership and direction.” Reid, a former marketing director from Cadbury Schweppes, maintains that the challenge is pricing Harris Tweed accordingly and making it appealing to the end consumer in a modern world with many choices like ultra-light, softer tweeds made from blends. The weight of a Harris Tweed, which is one of the pillars of the parliamentary act, cannot be altered.

“We can’t compete with regulations, but I think the solution is creatively thinking outside the box using your own brainpower to decide how to skin the cat,” says Reid.

For Harris Tweed Textiles that means producing cashmere blends alongside Harris Tweed, but not under the Harris Tweed banner, to increase sales and keep the mill running 12 months of the year. “There is a massive hill to climb now,” says Reid. “At it is a hill that requires unanimity of objectives between all the mills, all the weavers and the entirety of the industry. We have to see production reach 750,000 meters over the next three to five years. It’s going to have to go through a pain barrier where prices go up [but where ultimately] everyone benefits financially. The days of selling a Harris Tweed jacket at only 120 pounds are hopefully long gone.”

The challenge is not lost on the Harris Tweed Authority. “The demands of protecting the orb thus far have stifled the ability to promote it and we’ll have nothing left to protect if we don’t promote,” says Lorna MacAulay, the newly appointed president of the Authority. “We need to find the balance between protection and promotion and bring it back to fashion.” From her office, which is fully dressed—or upholstered—in Harris Tweed, MacAulay is wrestling with the task of bringing Harris Tweed into the 21st century. “We need to be proud about bringing it back and start showing off,” MacAulay says.

She may have a captive audience, if she shouts loud enough. Fusty images of Harris Tweed à la fuddy-duddy sport coats and Miss Marple-esque sensible suits are currently gathering mothballs as designers and industry insiders are increasingly lured by the fabric’s wide-ranging appeal.

“Harris Tweed is the DNA of modern men’s wear. It is the foundation of men’s fashion and great taste in men’s apparel. It’s bigger than the isles themselves and every great name in retail has been inspired by the beauty of Harris Tweed,” says New York–based men’s wear designer Joseph Abboud, who recalled a photograph of Coco Chanel donning a borrowed men’s Harris Tweed jacket. “In this world of mass production and automation there is a boomerang effect towards luxury handmade products,” says Abboud.

In 1987, Vivienne Westwood themed her women’s collection around the cloth and Alexander McQueen made his “Grey Lady” ball gown from a hand patchwork jigsaw of different Harris Tweeds. Dolce & Gabbana tapped the fabric, as did Alexandre Plokhov, Versace’s men’s wear designer, who opened his Cloak show with a gray cape made from vegetable-dyed Harris Tweed in 2005. “For sure tweed as a fabrication has a look and tells a story,” says Tom Kalenderian, executive vice-president and GMM of men’s at Barneys. “Harris Tweed’s artisan factor is a key element,” says Tommy Fazio, fashion director at Bergdorf Goodman Men. “Even people like Tom Ford are making suits inspired by Harris Tweed.”

After an inspiring outing at Première Vision in September, Fazio says he expects to see a “real resurgence” of the fabric next fall. Macleod is preparing for it. Still in his garage, he is about to finish off his five-day week of weaving eight hours a day. Nearly 170 meters of Harris Tweed are rolled up and waiting to be sent back to the mills.

“We want to see the industry grow. We must aim for that. We’re not traditionalists,” he says. “I would love to see Harris Tweed that I wove here worn by some elegantly dressed man making his way down the high-class streets of New York or Paris.”