#black & grey

[gutterbonestm]

Tattoo design I made of the statue of David, except make him a trans man

[its-stimsca]

Thatcher Davis stimboard for day three of stimtober, he is emo as HELLLLL I love him

🖤 🚔 🖤

🚔 🖤 🚔

🖤 🚔 🖤

[lconoclasts]

[thepanvelite]

Our Visit to High Voltage Tattoo Studio in Kharghar

Chetan Gaikwad's High Voltage Tattoo Studio excels in artistry and vision.

We recently had the chance to visit the High Voltage Tattoo Studio in Kharghar, and it was an experience worth sharing. This place is not just about getting inked; it’s about the art, the passion, and the story behind every tattoo. Meeting Mr. Chetan Rajguru Gaikwad A self-portrait by Chetan We had the pleasure of meeting the owner and tattoo artist, Mr. Chetan Rajguru Gaikwad. With over 10…

[xanticore]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

Genre: fluff

Note: this is my first metallica fic so pleaseee keep that in mind. I hope whoever reads this enjoys.

Setting: late 90s ~ early 2000s..ish

Summary: Kirk is on tour and he decides to stop by the local guitar store. He ends up staying longer than expected when he overhears a riff that sounded impressive. Assuming it was a guy, but was taken aback when it was a girl...a girl who doesn't seem to know who he is.

It was the weekend and I was starting my weekend off, our next show being on Thursday and Friday of next week. This gave me time to myself to find local comic stores and guitar shops. I was honestly in my own little world as time passed by quickly; I didn't mind at all because I was going to do the whole process again on Sunday. I left the comic book store with a new manga and some new released volumes. All Junji Ito works, no surprise there.

The next stop of the day was the guitar shop. The air was cool and the store was just so fucking huge, It was heaven to me. The store had a variety of items. Vinlys, cassettes, cds, and even some band posters...but my main focus was the guitar wall. All different types of styles and colors, different collaborations of pop culture, anything you could think of-this store probably had it.

A guitar that has been newly stock was the black and red Les Paul. It looked so gothic and vampiric. Younger me was just screaming at me to get it...which It was my plan. I asked a worker to take it off the shelf so I could practice some riffs on it. Just as I imagine; it was a smooth and crisp sound. A sound I was looking feel and I probably would make this guitar debut when I head to Japan.

It was already 5 pm and James was just blowing up my phone. I forgot all about our band dinner. I sighed packing up my things and unhooked the guitar from the amp. On my way towards the front to ring up my guitar, I overheard a riff coming from a room that was being occupied. It looked like it was a guitar lesson in session.

I continued to listen and soon heard a solo. It was definitely in the metal genre. Whoever that dude was; shredding that guitar like it was the last thing on earth. It intimidated me how good it sounded. Almost making me jealous of how I didn't think to use this type of style in a song.

I heard them stop and minor shuffling going on in the room. I quickly walked away and acted like I was looking at the vinyls. I glanced over at the door and saw a tall beautiful girl. She nearly took my breath away. The way she played really matched her style of clothing. She was a goth but it was familiar style I've seen in Japan. Her hair was dyed a dark red and her make up was flawless.

I needed to compliment her and asked her about that solo of hers. I was stupidly stuck in my place but managed to get to her with a sudden boost of confidence. "H-Hey, nice guitar. I heard you playing in that room. You sounded amazing." I complimented her with a smile in admiration.

She smiled back and looked somewhat excited. Did she recognize me? Did she not expect a guitarist from the most known metal band of all time-

"Thank you so much! Are you also a fan of Malice Mizer? I was playing one of their songs."

"Malice Mizer? never heard of them.."

The girl frowned but soon lit up when she started to explain the band to me. "It's a rock band from Japan. Visual Kei style of music over there. I'm really into bands like X Japan and Dir En Grey."

I've never heard any X Japan songs but I definitely seen posters of them in Shibuya. I know they are well loved and idolized in the era of rock music over there.

"There's actually a Malice Mizer cassette next to you of their new album. You should buy it and give them a listen? They won't disappoint." She giggled. I eyed her movements when she moved closer to me, only to pick up the packaged cassette tape. The cover had a silver cross and the band's name in black in the middle. But enough about them, her little giggle was just so cute. If only I could hear that from her more often.

"I'm Kirk."

"(name)"

A beautiful name as well. I didn't want to add anymore details of my name because I knew it wouldn't matter and honestly...i'm really enjoying that. It felt more natural to speak with a non fan. Nothing was forced and she genuinely seemed to enjoy just talking about her favorite music; unlike some girls i'd meet at clubs.

"Well Kirk, I hope to see you around?"

I didn't say a word but I just nodded. I tried to stay positive but it was a pain I wasn't gonna see her again. I bought my guitar and cassette watching the cashier put it in a case. I left the store happy and somewhat sad, but, seeing that girl smile just brighten up my mood...

I hope to see her again.

a/n: so what we thinking?? yay or nay?

gif from: @ba11ltongue

dividers: cr to owners

[otherswap]

Concept arts for Maddaton.

When designing her box form, I wanted something both visually similar but also different from Mettaton without just sticking a jacket or something on her. She's styled after a guitar amp and her original screen colours were meant to contrast with Mettaton's red and yellow before we changed it to orange and magenta; the orange on her final design is from Mad Dummy's sprite. Annoying Tem is also here.

In the middle are also hairstyle explorations for her EX form, with the final one being inspired by Leo/need Miku from Project Sekai. Maddaton EX also takes some visual influence from Spinel from Steven Universe like her "runny mascara" face vents. Her heart core was moved to her chest area since her waist was already visually busy from the belts. Pastel pink is a colour I haven't used for an AU Mew Mew yet and it ended up looking good with the blacks and greys in her design.

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Question: a lot of pictures of bush vipers show them with these astonishingly bright colors. While some are clearly edited, what range of colors do they actually come in? I'm guessing the greens are natural, but what about ones like this dark blue/purple Variable Bush Viper (https://www.reddit.com/r/snakes/comments/rm2rxx/this_is_my_friends_blackpurple_variable_bush/) or this muted rainbow one (https://www.reddit.com/r/interestingasfuck/comments/3om5gv/bush_viper/)? Is there a sure fire way to tell?

The fun thing about variable bush vipers is they are incredibly variable in color. They can be red, orange, yellow, green, blue, brown, grey, and black, and the (unfortunate) breeding of them in captivity has added to an already large color pool.

For the specific pictures you're asking about, the one of the black/purple snake is legit, and hasn't been altered much if at all. It's definitely playing up good lighting, but I've seen bush vipers who look like this.

The second one is altered, though, the eye color and rainbow gradient give it away.

You can often spot a shopped bush viper picture because they'll amp up the saturation and turn the eyes blue, like in this one:

It's not a hard-and-fast rule, but most bush vipers will have eyes that are almost the same color as the scales.

It honestlyl kinda bugs me to see so many edits out there, because these are already such beautiful snakes! They come in an incredible range of colors, but if it looks too bright to be true, it probably is.

[artforinfinity]

I color coded them and you can't do anything about it :]

Reblogs appreciated <3

Elaborations for my color choices under the cut!

Siffrin, grey: ok this is probably the color choice with the least amount of meaning. One pattern in particular that I have noticed within the fandom is that with headcanon colored designs for the cast Sif always manages to still be in black and white. I, like a normal person, find this to be hilarious. You give these characters wonderful new pallets except poor Siffrin who remains in the emo dimension, brilliant. Keep doing this.

Mirabelle, pink: I love Mirabelle so so much of my gyoddd. I chose pink (plus my heart motif) for two reasons.

1. I like pink and I like lovecore

2. I like characters whose designs contradict their personalities in small ways

As a feminine aroace person myself I really really resonate and see myself in Mirabelle, like to a sort of crazy degree. So why not take her feminine traits and amp them up a bit? Why not allow myself to relate to her more? I can have fun around here! Also she is incredibly magical girl coded to me and she is technically the leader of the group so pink was just the only possible choice I could make.

Isabeau, mint/teal: so Isabeau is such a ginger to me. There is no other possibility in my mind this man is GINGER. And I associate orange with teal colors because that color combo goes crazy hard, so bam! Teal Isa was born! Also I think the color fits well as he is the most masculine character in the party.

Bonnie, orange/tan: this one is simply due to the fact that I associate both childhood and cooking with sepia tones. Do not ask me why, I couldn't explain if I tried. Also I gave them some freckles bc they deserve them.

Odile, purple: MY BELOVED ODILE!! Ok this one has a few reasons. Besides Sif her pallete is the most muted of the bunch signifying both her age and the fact that she is not from Vaugarde. I associate purple with magic, maturity, regalness, and gemstones which are all things that fit Odile well. I've shown off this coloring choice in the drawing I made for her birthday, actually, which is the piece that inspired this whole color coding ordeal anyway.

Btw Loop is red (🙂), Euphrasie is yellow (gold, high ranking in the House), and The King is blue (sadness, memory)

Anyways thanks for sitting through all that have your bonus

It's midnight I'm tired

[icallhimjoey]

YES! yes hurt me won with 82.4% and i cant WAIT to cry over bookstore joey once more! he has my full heart and i need him to violently sob over me whilst clinging on and telling me he loves me: bitch, do you worst!

HURT ME!

fine, bitch. just know that i hurt my own feelings writing this, and none of you will be eligible for compensation :) here's the bit of when bookstore!joe and you had the saddest fight you'd ever had with him from the series A Whisper Away - enjoy Wordcount: 4.1K

---

But, I Love You

Date night.

You weren’t meant to be screaming at each other on date night. You rarely ever had date nights to begin with... maybe that was why you weren’t any good at them. But this disastrous? Neither of you had seen it coming.

Joe’d decided to mark a random Friday night in July in both your calendars as date night. With the store and the apartment empty, tidied up, and void of any immediate responsibility, you took a lot longer to get ready than you’d usually take.

Put some music on and took time to slowly do your make-up and to blend properly for once. Not that you looked any different in the end. You’d just been slower. Hadn’t rushed yourself until Joe said, “I’ll wait downstairs,” and you saw him walk past the opened bathroom door in a black trench coat.

You were going to look far too casual next to him in what you had on, so you quickly rushed your lip balm, sprayed your face with setting spray and went to find something else to wear. Something more sleek, and shinier, and... more black, for easy elegance.

You still looked casual.

Knew you’d look it especially next to Joe.

Didn’t know how to match Joe in smartness, even if you tried.

It wasn’t really a fair race if you were honest – fancy actor on a steady climb to more exciting things and bookstore owner that relished in the silence and comfort written words brought.

When you made your way down the stairs, out of the clouds of scents that hairspray, bodylotion and perfume left lingering, it was nice to step into the scent of books. Of old paper, and wooden shelves and old leather armchairs.

You weren’t going to lie, you amped that shit up by placing strategic scented candles around – never to be lit without supervision. Obviously.

Stepping into the store front, you expected Joe to maybe be tidying a little, like either of you would often do if you were in there for a little longer than a minute after closing. Straighten some shelves, pile some stray books that were left near the till, or even sweep the walkways a little.

Instead, Joe was just sat in one of the armchairs and seemed lost in thought. Not on his phone. Not holding a book. Just, looking up and around, but eyes quickly found you once you stepped into view.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he smiled, pushed his cheeks up and turned his eyes into slits.

“Sorry for making you wait,” you said, going to collect your keys from one of the drawers.

“That’s ok, we’ve got some time ‘til the reservation, we could even walk if we wanted,”

Rummaging, you noticed the keys to the front door weren’t where you thought you’d left them.

“Have you seen the–”

You heard them jingle in Joe’s hand before you looked up and smiled. Joe was already standing by the door.

“Walking’s fine, although, maybe not for the way back,” you said, revealing your heeled ankle boots when you stepped around the counter. “Or you’d have to be all right with holding me upright the whole way back,”

“Hmh, sounds romantic,”

“We’ll have eaten; you’ll be sluggish, and I’ll be extra heavy,”

“Yea, maybe not,” Joe said around a laugh, doorhandle in hand.

“Where are we going, again?” you slung an arm into a jacket. Sure, it was July, but it had been abnormally cold for the time of year. Felt more like autumn. Looked more like autumn too – grey skies, wet streets, wind.

When you mentioned the restaurant he picked, you froze.

Made eye-contact.

Dropped your shoulders.

Groaned as you tilted your head.

“Are you joking?”

Joe gave an awkward chuckle, looked confused. “Why would I be joking? You know I know Maurice,”

The head chef.

“Yea, but that’s like... that place is one big room with window’s all ‘round. Can we not go? Not there, anyway? You’ll be stared at all night.”

You would both be stared at all night.

Joe just shrugged. Scrunched his nose up a little.

“So? Let them stare. I’ll only have eyes for you anyway.”

And you knew it was meant to be cute. Meant to make your stomach twist and have it flutter with butterflies, because your boyfriend just said he wouldn’t even notice people paying attention to him because he only wanted to pay attention to you. It should have made you smile, giggle, blush a little, but instead, it made you grimace.

“Joe,” you pleaded. “It’s Friday as well.”

“It’ll be fine,” Joe said, voice carrying humour as he wildly beckoned you towards the door that he was still holding open, hoping that you’d step through already so he could lock it behind you.

You didn’t move, though.

“No, please, I’m seriously not... I don’t want to go out with Joe Quinn,”

Joe sighed. Let his head drop.

“Have my family group chat fill with photos of us with our mouths half open shoveling pasta in – that’s not,” you sighed. “That’s no fun for me, I’ll be on edge all night eyeing for girls who secretly have their phones out... can we just...” you looked around the store. “Can we maybe get take out and have a meal in here? Do a cute picnic?”

Joe grew more annoyed by the second and slowly closed the door. Turned to stand in front of it, both hands in his pockets, and then was quiet for a bit as he looked at you. After a few seconds he shrugged, and you knew he meant, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?

“We don’t have to have it in here,”

The bookstore had been a touchy subject for a while now. But you’d changed the opening times for Joe – you were now closed on Sundays, and you opened late on Monday morning. And Anne worked the most hours she’d ever worked, because financially that was easy to manage now, and that also it meant that you didn’t have to work late every day.

You hadn’t wanted to change the opening times initially. Felt like Joe was forcing you out of your job, what with him wanting to move out of the apartment above it as well and all. But two weeks in, you had a whispered conversation in bed in which you confessed that it was nice to be able to stay in bed a little longer on Sundays. Have slow breakfasts together. Have Anne do the things you’d normally do after opening hours during her shift. Joe’d only made fun for a second, made you tell him he was right and wouldn’t stop poking you in the ribs until you squealed the words out.

“We could also... go someplace else?” you were the one to shrug this time, but yours was more unsure, more hopeful because you wanted Joe to smile and say, “Sure, of course, whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”. That wasn’t what you got, though.

Before Joe said anything, he pushed both heels of his hands into his eyes.

Fuck.

You were going to have a fight. You didn’t know if Joe knew, but pushing his palms into both eyes was his tell.

“No, never mind,” you quickly backtracked.

You’d sit in a restaurant on edge all night if it meant evading a fight.

“Let’s go,” you stepped closer, wanted to reach for the door behind Joe, but he didn’t move. Instead, he grabbed the arm that reached and stilled you.

“What is it...” Joe started, eyes still closed. “What is it about– why can’t we...” he searched for the right words.

“We can,” you tried, but they were the wrong words if you were to go by the grip that strengthened on your arm.

“Clearly we can’t, I’m not... I’m not going to take you somewhere you don’t want to go,” he looked at you then, eyes all sad but definitely annoyed. “It’s just, it's the reasoning is what gets me, doesn’t it?”

Not a question for you to answer.

“It’s like you don’t want to be seen with me, so, then what? We just never go out for a meal ever again?”

That’s not what you meant.

“That’s not what I–”

“Can’t go out with Joe Quinn on the off chance that someone recognises me,”

Joe said it like that had never happened before. Like there weren’t still people visiting the bookstore on the daily in the hopes of running into Joe. Like there weren’t girls who walked past the windows and peered inside to make sure Joe wasn’t in before they’d look away again. Like every conversation you had with a stranger didn’t at some point suddenly turn into a question-and-answer session about Joe that you didn’t know how to politely get out of.

“Joe,” you tried for the door again, but Joe was the one to step further into the store now, signaling he wasn’t planning on stepping out with you just yet.

“I’ve been out, had dinner at lovely restaurants like... six or seven times this past month, and, I’ve not been bothered by anyone. No, I did, maybe once, but it was fine, it’s always kind people, nothing bad,”

“No, I know,” you didn’t know, but you wanted this to stop just as quickly as it had started.

“Never mind what I said, you’re probably right, let’s get going,” you gestured at the door, but didn’t step closer. You needed Joe to give you an inch before you’d do so.

Joe didn’t give you an inch. Sighed deeply instead and stared out the window a second.

“Sometimes... sometimes I think you don’t want this,”

Joe was right. You didn’t want to go out with your boyfriend and have people ogle all night. You didn’t want Joe to be all glossy and clean shaven and styled in a coat worth two grand, no matter how good he looked. You didn’t like Joe gone half the year, and didn’t like Joe growing in his success because that only meant more of all the negative things.

You wanted Joe soft and scruffy, with a book in his lap, sat in one of the armchairs in the window on a slow Tuesday morning when you’d get to make coffee for him and when Anne would tell you to stop staring at him because it was weird.

“That you don’t want to still do this with me,”

Oh.

No. No, you did want that.

“No, I do want that.” You were quick to state. Had to let Joe know that you did want to be with him.

“Yea, but,” Joe gestured. Meant, then what the fuck is it with you not wanting to go out for dinner with me?

You sighed a long breath, one that turned into a grunt at the end.

“It’s just that... I’m not in the mood to go for dinner with the whole world, you know?” because pictures would get taken and would circle the globe in TikTok videos where they’d zoom in and out set to music. “I just want to have a nice meal with you...”

“Which is what I planned for,”

“Yea, but...” you tilted your head. Gave Joe a face with scrunched up eyebrows. Joe knew you meant that that’s not how things worked out there. Going out in a busy area where Joe had had his picture taken in the streets before was the opposite of going for a quiet meal together.

It was quiet for a bit, and you hoped that maybe the cogs in Joe’s mind would guide him into making a decision. You’d go with either one. Would sit in a popular restaurant with him. Would have your picture taken by a sneaky phone badly hidden behind a music. Would much rather go somewhere where they could hide the two of you in the back somewhere, but, whatever Joe’d choose, you decided you were just going to go with it.

Was easier that way.

But Joe stayed silent. Stared at the floor a second.

“Remember that first year of us knowing each other?” you suddenly said, hoping to shift the mood. “Where you’d come in and would just... be around? Before we even had Anne working here?”

It was the weirdest but also the best time you think you’d ever had in the store. Of course, memories involuntarily got romanticized – your brain left out half the bad shit that happened, made you forget about the hardships and stressful days, but made you remember Joe and his fluffy hair, in his wrinkled linen shirts of which the buttons sometimes strained a bit around his chest and some skin would peep through.

You hadn’t even introduced yourself to Joe, but had learned how he liked his coffee and would give him a steaming mug of it whenever he’d been sat reading in one of the chairs for over an hour.

“No one ever recognised you in here,” you reminisced, couldn’t help but look over at the chair that was now Joe’s chair, even though he barely sat in it anymore.

“If I’d asked you to go for a meal then, you wouldn’t have gone either,”

Ouch.

Your neck almost cracked with how fast it turned to look at Joe. He seemed unimpressed.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not like you were that different back then,”

He was right. You hadn’t changed much at all, but, that wasn’t the point.

“No, but... it was nice to be around you and have it involve no one else,” and you willed a small smile onto your face, because you hoped maybe Joe would copy it. Would agree with you. Would stop this path towards more mean words and would just tell you what was going to happen for dinner because you were getting hungry and felt the itch to get out of there in your feet.

“I’m not going to put on a show and play myself but four year ago,”

“That’s not what I’m asking!”

“Then what? What are you asking?”

“I’m asking for us to go have our date night... we can still make the reservation, see Maurice, have him cook us beautiful food, I just... let’s go, I want to go,” with a little more confidence, you touched the door handle like Joe had done before.

Joe narrowed his eyes a little at you, as if suspicious, and deep in thought.

“Do you think that was when we peaked? When we wouldn’t even talk to each other properly?”

For a second you didn’t believe you heard that right.

“What?”

“When I didn’t know you lived upstairs and you googled me every night?”

“Oh my God,” you scoffed, offended. You did not google Joe every night, and Joe fucking knew it.

“When all I knew about you is that you ran this store? And you wouldn't fucking tell me anything else about you, ever? Was the fantasy of being with me better than–”

“Stop!”

You were surprised by the sudden volume of your voice.

“Stop it! No! Of course not! Jesus Christ, Joe, is that what you think?”

Joe looked pissed off as he breathed through flared nostrils, brow all furrowed in your direction.

“Is that what you think I think?”

“If that’s not it, then what is it?”

Yea, all right. This was just going to be a fight then. Fuck dinner.

You let go of the door handle and stepped away from it, more towards the counter. Further away from Joe who was stood nearer the windows, closer to the armchairs.

“It’s what I just said! It’s...”

There was more. You stopped by the counter, placed your hands on top and hung into your shoulders, head hung down. You were already regretting saying what you hadn’t said yet but decided to go for it anyway. Now seemed as good a time as any.

“It’s that... I can’t remember the last time I didn’t actively miss you, with your work, and your–”

“I’m right here. Right now. I’m here.” Joe held two arms out wide to demonstrate.

“And still!” you exclaimed, eyes all wide, slightly bent at the hips to get the words out closer to him.

Joe’s facial expression immediately softened yours – no one needed to see the hurt they’d caused reflected back at them through someone else’s eyes.

“I miss you, I’m missing you right this very second and I don’t...” you faltered, exhaled through flared nostrils and tried to pick the right thing to say from all of your swimming thoughts.

“Remember when we used to be apart for like four weeks and be fine?”

“I’d still miss you,”

“And I’d miss you too, but, I’d get things done, I’d still see my friends all the time, I’d still have fun, and then we’d call and I’d have all these things to tell you about, and then you’d tell me about the place you were at, and the people you were meeting and, yes, I would miss you, but it was never the gut-wrenching sort of missing you I do nowadays,”

What had changed?

You knew the answer.

“Now, when you’re away, I don’t even feel like I can function properly – everything is overwhelming and,” you winced at yourself before you said, “And I get so jealous that you just get to step out of all of this for a second, and I don't want to resent you for anything, I truly don't,”

“You want out?”

Joe didn't mean the relationship. He couldn't mean the relationship. He probably meant the store, referenced the thing you said about everything being overwhelming - that had to be what he meant.

“No, I don’t want out, but it feels unfair that you’re constantly leaving me to deal with all of it by myself,”

“You don’t have to deal with it by yourself,”

“I know I don’t! Doesn’t change the way I feel, though, does it?”

Another silence fell where Joe let himself fall into his armchair.

You want out?

Joe could not fucking mean the relationship.

Couldn't.

The silence was deafening, but you didn't want to be the one to break it. Joe asked if you wanted out. Was staring out the window now, after having just asked you if you wanted out.

What if you were out?

Just... for a second?

It was not like Joe's fame was going to stop growing all of a sudden. All of this was already hard enough as it was, but it was only going to get more difficult, wasn't it?

You tapped an impatient fingernail on the counter and saw how Joe turned his head more away from you.

Out.

The careful door that word had opened in your mind was scary. It creaked on its hinges and behind it, everything was a little dark, but, it felt like an out was exactly what you needed.

Out.

Just for a second.

You inhaled a sharp breath and let it out slowly, cheeks puffed out.

Out.

“Maybe I’m not made for this,” you repeated what you’d told Joe when you’d started the relationship. When you’d voiced your fears of making this a serious thing, and he’d been so reassuring, had told you that you’d be fine. More than fine.

Yet, look at where you were now.

Joe was in a ridiculously expensive coat and to measure up you pretended that your all black outfit was good enough.

It wasn't fucking good enough.

“I don’t think I can do this with you,” you were nearly whispering, afraid to hear the words come out of your own mouth.

They were vulnerable, made the area behind your eyes prickle, and you needed Joe to handle them with care.

“Of course you can’t fucking do this with me, what, with all the trouble it’s giving you,”

You got snappy sarcasm from him instead, insinuating that all of your worries and fears were unreasonable. Stupid. Not real. The thing you’d been scared of from the start was still looming over you so threateningly, and you were done with it.

Didn’t want that anymore.

Joe had said himself that you'd get to be with Joe. Not with Joe Quinn. You'd both known what that meant. You'd both been on the same page about that.

You were no longer with Joe.

You'd not been with Joe for a while now.

Had instead gotten to be with Joe Quinn, and you didn't want that.

And now, Joe was being mean about it.

The snarky sarcasm you got from Joe shot the last little bit of courage you needed into your system. They’d also shot tears into your eyes, and a weird numb feeling into your fingertips. But the courage was important, because the courage had been just enough for you to say,

“I think we need to take a little break from each other for a little while,”

You hadn’t been able to finish the sentence without tears escaping both eyes, and now each cheek felt a burning hot path being carved right down to your jaw where you wiped at them with a clammy hand.

It was like Joe’s mind registered what you’d said in slow motion.

You saw how his face fell. How his brows went from being impossibly low on his face, to knitting together up high. How his eyes went from narrow slits to big rounded wet ones. Ones that reflected those stupid Christmas lights that you’d put up that one time and then had never taken down again.

Joe tried to find a little hint of humour. Of this being a joke.

Instead he found trembling lips that tried to hide their shaking and eyes that were somehow both scared and determined at once.

“No,” Joe got up, waited for you to take the words back. Hovered near the chair with his mouth slightly open, face reading nothing but sheer shock that turned into desperation when you didn’t say anything.

You couldn't be fucking serious, could you?

You just stood there, by the counter, leaning into your shoulders whilst tears ran down your face.

“No,” Joe said again, making his way over now.

Out.

Joe had spat the question at you, but had never even considered the thought of you actually taking it there.

“Take it back,” Joe pleaded, now next to you, an elbow leaning on the counter to round out and face you. But you’d let your head fall forwards, had closed your eyes, made tears fall onto the counter in little drops and tried to deal with the overwhelming feeling of relief at getting the words out.

“Take those words back, we’re not–”

You shook your head and let a sob escape.

“No, stop that, we’re not going on a break, you take those words back,” you heard Joe's throat close up as he spoke, voice sounding more constricted with every word.

Joe was crying too now, and as much as you wanted to turn and hug Joe, you didn’t.

You weren’t going to take the words back.

“I think I want out for a little while,” you managed to squeeze out, head lifted and looking Joe in the eye.

You wished you hadn’t.

Hadn’t looked him in the eye.

Seeing the person you loved – and you did love him, so much, almost an unbearable amount – break right down the centre right in front of you was the worst thing you’d probably ever seen.

Joe ripped in half.

Broke down.

Fell apart like a book would do if you ripped off the spine. Pages everywhere. Front and back cover useless now.

“No,” Joe cried, voice hoarse, and he sunk.

His knees hit the floor hard, and you were pulled into a hug around your hips. Around your waist. All anger was gone now, no more snarky comments or risky questions left in him. Just sad desperation that tried to hold onto what the two of you once were together.

You knew that you hadn’t been that in a while, now.

Out still sounded good when Joe started murmuring things into your hip.

Out still sounded good when Joe’s grip grew stronger, and his sobs got louder until they got violent and hurt his throat.

Out still sounded good when Joe pleaded and begged and said the same things over and over as you cried silent tears above him, the only tell being the way you had to sniffle on every inhale.

“But I love you,”

You loved him too, but couldn’t say it back. It’d send the wrong message.

“Take the words back,”

You couldn’t. Didn’t want to take them back.

“I love you, I’m sorry, I,” Joe paused for a wet sob, “I love you, I love you, take the words back, take,” a deep inhale, “take them back, we can’t, I love you.”

Date night.

“I love you.”

Out.

“I love you.”

Out still sounded good.

---

The Taglisted

@05secondsofsexgods, @a-time-for-wolvess, @adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddie-joe-munson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @luvrsbian, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @yelyahcardella

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[wordbreaker]

Strings ✷ Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Words: 2k

Description: If there is one person that can piss Eddie Munson off, it’s the new neighbour… or the three times Eddie Munson ends up angry and how it stopped. 

( SILÉAS says ... ! ) I wrote this last year when season 4 came out. It's not a masterpiece⏤I don't even write for ST anymore⏤but it's fun and I wanted to share it with you.

THE FIRST TIME Eddie wants to kill his new neighbour, it’s a Wednesday night and it's long past midnight. He knows she's the one making all that noise because it's not like Max Mayfield to blast her music for the whole neighbourhood to hear. The little redhead is far too glued to her walkman for that.

So there's only one other option he can think of.

A new trailer had been sold a week before, the one right in front his. If Eddie hadn't seen anything interesting in this event, he had no idea that the removal of the "for sale" sign would be the beginning of Hell.

He doesn't know what she looks like, the new neighbour, he just knows that she has an annoying tendency to think she's alone. 

In itself, she's not doing anything wrong, and he should even be happy that she's blasting AC/DC and not some shitty music at this hour. However, he has a D&D campaign to prepare for the club’s meeting next week, so he has no time to waste. The shorties—by which he means Sinclair multiplied by two, Henderson and Wheeler—have been bugging him to create a new one since the memorable end of the previous one. 

D&D is serious (at least for him), and Eddie won't be able to concentrate if he has to listen to that damn guitar one more minute. 

The last straw is the Highway to Hell solo.

While another neighbour shouts a totally useless "stop this shit!", Eddie opens his door with a bang—surely waking up Uncle Wayne in the process, or not because he too has to put up with this nightly concert—which slams brutally against the wall of the grey trailer.

From his doorstep he cannot see any light filtering through the curtains of the one opposite, but he does not trust this image: the neighbour is there and more awake than ever as Back in Black begins along its famous chords.

Three big steps to the trailer, three big breaths to calm down and three big knocks to call the neighbour. 

Not even a second later, the door opens and gives way to her, the one he is meeting for the first time. 

"Yeah?" 

His words fade into his throat before he can utter them, the sight before him leaving him speechless. A cigarette in her mouth, barely hanging on, she looks at him with a blasé look, probably in a hurry to get back to her business.

Wisps of smoke form their hazy arabesques and intoxicate him, or perhaps it is the creature that has just appeared in front of him. To be honest, he doesn't know if he's dreaming or if it's reality, but the woman watching him seems to have come straight from his imagination. 

Tattoos blacken and decorate her skin in a constellation of ink that he wants to admire but can’t—maybe he does sneak a peek—because they're hidden by a big Iron Maiden shirt that falls over bare legs. He swallows. 

Why is he here again? 

That's exactly the question the neighbour asks him. Her voice is low and hoarse, damaged by tobacco and probably other substances. It seems to have collected dirt, sown by something called Life. In any case, the neighbour seems to have seen and done some shit. 

Eddie tries to answer. However, he can't take his eyes off the guitar hanging around her neck. It's simple, black but decorated with a few stickers that remind him of its owner's tattoos, and it's beautiful. Here's another point in common. Less so than his sweetheart, obviously, but it is metal, her guitar, almost as much as the one who holds it. 

So, she was the one playing. 

"Could you turn down your amp? I'm trying to get my campaign ready for my D&D club."

She scoffs, before muttering a "nerd" that he hears perfectly well despite the lowered tone. He thinks she did it on purpose. He doesn't really care. The word isn't said as aggressively as when Jason does it. It even sounds affectionate in her nicotined mouth (which he wants to taste but that's a detail for later, preferably tonight, late at night, and alone). 

"Don't worry, I'll turn it down." 

And without a goodbye, she slams the door, leaving him speechless from this encounter and perhaps, the mere sight of her. That night she keeps her word and Eddie can finish his campaign in silence. 

THE SECOND TIME Eddie wants to kill his neighbour is when he is himself strumming his guitar one night to try to master the recently released Master of Puppets. The chords frustrate him because he can't string them together smoothly.

If that's the beauty of the art —the failure, the determination, the practice and ultimately the success—it's fucking annoying as of right now. And on top of that, he has to deal with his neighbour's solos, which are much better than his own. It's humiliating, and it doesn't help him to concentrate.

He lets out yet another grunt, a clear sign of his irritation, when at the other end of the path he hears Master of Puppets performed to perfection. She got to be kidding him. She must’ve perfect pitch, he thinks. Nobody can learn a song that fast, especially one like that.

She's beautiful, she's charismatic and she's a better guitarist than he is. It's him, only better, and just thinking about this makes him start to hate her as a string threatens to break under the pressure of his bloody fingers.

Or maybe it's not annoyance but rather misplaced frustration at his ineptitude to dare to ask her out. 

"Nice solo!" he hears from his open window. 

He thinks he's dreaming, but no, when he looks up, there she is, on the other side of the road, her guitar in her hand.

Tonight, she smiles and even waves at him. It's a nice change from last time. Her face lights up and becomes more beautiful. No cigarette between her lips either, although there is smoke coming out of the window all the same. It is far too thick to be from any Marlboro. The smell reaches him—Hawkins has been trapped by the wind for several days—and gives him the answer to the question he dares not ask.

It's weed.

An unhealthy jealousy takes hold of his body. He wasn’t the one who sold it to her. 

His thoughts wander and he imagines himself smoking with her, both of them lying in her room, a metal vinyl ripping through the restful silence. His hand would caress her soft thighs, while she would play two or three chords and they would kiss two or three times. 

"You've got good taste, Munson!"

She knows his name. He doesn't. That's enough to snap him out of his stupor. 

"Thank you..!" he yells and waits. 

"Y/N!"

Strangely enough, he doesn't care that she makes noise if it means she answers him.

It's a nice name, almost too much so when it's said in such a broken voice. But at the same time, it makes the sound addictive.

Eddie wonders what his name would sound like in her mouth, when she's underneath him, and his mouth ventures down her throat, her stomach and even lower...

Stop. She may be beautiful and talented, but she's still fucking annoying. 

"I'm not bothering you, am I?"

He should say yes, because of course she's bothering him with her chords flowing perfectly while his are jerky, but with those big eyes looking at him, how could he say anything but no? 

"No, don't worry. I think you could teach me a few things, even.”

"I heard you, though, Munson. You’re good with your fingers." 

He nearly chokes as a sudden wave of heat travels down his spine and goes straight to his lower abdomen. It’s an innuendo; it has to be. And yet, the girl's expression remains innocent, almost too much so in his opinion, but he's not thinking straight. 

Fuck, he really needs to stop with the neighbour. Besides, it's a cliché, "the neighbour". It sounds like the pitch for some cheesy movie Harrington sells in his crappy shop, and Eddie's never been one for cheesy romances. 

THE THIRD TIME Eddie is frustrated with the new neighbour is when she turns her amp up to max and plays another Metallica solo.

Immediately, Eddie is on his way, as he was that first night, to knock on her door.

He's exhausted.

The teachers are giving him a hard time about a diploma he won't get, Jason's critics have multiplied in the cafeteria, and above all, Henderson won’t stop making fun of him and his embarrassment when he talks about the neighbour.

According to the boy, he has a crush on her. This is ridiculous, and it pisses him off. No matter where he goes, even to the high school where she doesn't go and therefore where no one is supposed to know her, he can't escape her.

Everything brings him back to her. 

So, this guitar solo is too much. He drums more than he knocks on the door, shaking the flimsy walls of the trailer. Immediately the music stops, and she appears in front of him. She has a joint in the corner of her mouth. The smell intoxicates him—or is it her fruity perfume?—but he maintains his stance. He won't let it happen this time. He's determined to tell her what he's thinking. 

“It took you long enough.”

She takes him by the hand and pulls him inside. The decoration is basic, it's the posters of different bands that make her personality shine. It's much neater than his house, though, he must admit. 

“You? Huh? What?” he stammers.

“I've been trying to get your attention for days, Munson. Days. My fingers are bleeding because you don't have the balls to come here. Seriously, you couldn't have put me out of my misery sooner? I mean... better late than never, but... Fuck.”

Eddie doesn't understand. It must show on his face. His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes are wide, his mouth is half-open, and his arms are flailing. Everything about him is in disbelief. Y/N sees it perfectly and sighs, exhaling smoke with it. Tangible frustration. She massages the bridge of her nose, as if this gesture will give her the courage to put up with him and his inability to think. 

“I like you, Munson. I thought that was obvious.”

The neighbour, she pisses him off. She's beautiful, she's more metal than he is, she's a better guitar player than he could ever dream of being, and now she's even got more balls than him. That's the last straw.

“Oh no! No! No! No! I was supposed to say that! Fuck! It's bad enough that you've mastered Master of Puppets while I'm still struggling and now you're the one taking the reins and deciding that you have a crush on me. Hell no! I'm the one- humph!"

She seals their lips, kisses him, and that brief but obvious moment makes his heart beat a thousand miles an hour. Eddie thinks it's more to tell him to shut the fuck up than anything else but he indulges in the moment.

As she bites his bottom lip and leaves the taste of weed behind, he allows himself to tighten his embrace, his hands closing over her, touching the grain of her skin from the small of her back to her neck. Her lips are much sweeter than he thought they would be.

“Can you please shut up, Munson?” she finally says, exasperated. At least that's what she's trying to sound like, but she's far too cute as it is. Her hair is tousled, her lips swollen, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks warm to the touch. He can't help it: he steals another kiss from her, which she promptly returns. 

“Does this mean you're going to stop playing at three in the morning to piss me off?”

“We could play together? After you explain the rules of D&D to me,” she offers.

His heart misses a beat, and he smiles. 

That's the last time he's angry with the neighbour. 

[devilish-parrot]

Tally Hall themed names for pets:

you can also use this to name your children (or renaming yourself)

If you own a tally hall themed zoo(bin), then you know where to look for names

these are all of course only sugestions. im not forcing you to name you dog zirconium pants.

Most of this isnt serious but if you see some good ideas, go for it. youre welcome in advance

(this has been sitting in my drafts for months and ive lost motivation to finish it but you can roughly guess how it goes)

peoples names:

Zubin

Rob

Ross

Andrew

Joe

Bora

Casey

Marvin

Sally

Steve

Ryan

Colours:

Blue

Yellow

Grey

Green

Red

Orange

Black

Instruments:

Electric guitar

Acoustic guitar

Guitar

Ukuklele

Accordian

Flute

Drum

Piano

Keyboard

Microphone

Amp

Roland Amp

Violin

Bongo

Pair names:

What, When

Circles, Spirals

Birds, Bees (unfortunetly most people will think its a sex ed reference)

Mary-Kate, Ashley (most ppl will think its a direct reference to the olsen twins though)

Juno, Sun

Good, Evil

T, A-L-L-Y

Case, Bass

Click, Flick

Collectable, Delectable

No Answers, No Questions

Bubmle, Mumble

Once, Twice

Where, There

Here, There

Twice, Thrice

Direction, Voice

Double, Bonus

Bung Vulchungo, Zimbabwe Songbirds

Laugh, Kick it back

Rythm, Rhyme

Whether, Whatever

Whether, Anything

Bungalay, Bungalow

Too much, Not enough

Back, Forth

One Thing, Another

Spring, Storm

Enthusiastic, Alive

Silent, Explosive

Over Again, Never Again

Laugh, Clap

Serious, Delirious

Gallows, Ghetto

Town, Meadow

Billows, Over the Sun

End of a time, Another Begun

sky, all the land

Song Lyrics:

MARVINS MARVELOUS MECHANICAL MUSEUM

Good Day

Id like to say hello and welcome you good day

Glass eyes

Nothing

Something

Television

Cardboard houses

Xray Vision

Silly Rhymes

Telephones

Silly games

Periods

Question Marks

2. Greener

Greener

Seconds

Boulders

Weather

Breaking me slowly

Meaner

Cleaner

Greener shade of envy

3. Welcome to Tally Hall

T-A-L-L-Y

Mini Mall

Mega Mart

Eddie Thatch (most ppl will think youre directly referencing blackbeard)

WWTDH

Tizzy Hizzy

Carnival

Tally Hall (not the most creative but whatever)

Automated Players

Suave Fellow

Heterophonic Tunes

Proud Loud Guy

Sipping 'gnac (or Cognac)

Bill Laimbeer

Locksmith

Keys

Badiggle

Unpredictable Games

Antiqueties

English Chap

Knickers

Gall

Sterosonic

Animatronic

Robo-Electronic Ebonics

Quick Distraction

Mechanic Attraction

Good Old-Fashioned Puppet Show

Marionette Quintet

We think we're playing in a band

4. Taken For a Ride

Helpless land

Happy

Sadistic Mystic

Elavator

Fifteen Flights

Creatures

Listening

Painted Whispered Light

Forgotten Hill

Stranded Senate

White Brick House

Lonely Papaerbacks

Tiptoed

Wooden Sign

Lovely

One Secondary Smile

Extra Mile

Chemistry (is gone)

Taken for a Ride

Actor

World Renowned

Last real day of silence

Picture of a Letter

No Secrets (In the door)

5. The Bidding

Mmm-mmmmm-mmmm-mmmm (you have to hum the tune)

Cardboard Box

Liqor shop

Pavlov Dog

(Activate my) Bell

(Not a) Single Lady

Atmosphere

Continent

Hemisphere

Circumvent

Disappear

I graduated at the Top

(I like to take advantage of the) Bourgeoisie

Fantasy

Queen

Couple bucks

Gentlemen

Four Times a Lady

Dont shop Around

The Bidding

He's Sold

6. Be Born

Quite Content

Swimming Pool

Pink-Skinned Babes

Forever Young

See the Sun

Six Inches

Dozen People

Cry

(Follow my) Instruction

Little Ball

Bah/ Dah/ Baheyah

7. Banana Man

Colonel P.T Chester Whitmore

Bung Vulchungo

Zimbabwe Songbirds

Banana man

White Hot Sand

Banana Tree

Banana Flow

Mm mm mm mmm

Flame

Spirit

Spirit Game

Spirit Names

Spirit Cloud

Songbirds

Fire light

uptight

Little Fun

Bungalow

Bumping of the drum

Troubles

Go with the Flow

Whatever you may never know

Beckoning Man

African't

Nine o clock

Busy Town

8. Just Apathy

Just one state of mind

Something better

(no) Perfect find

Why i bother

Consider the Possibility

Im so tired

Inspired

I feel bad

I made her sad

I need to learn

Step blindly

close my eyes

Acting kindly

9. Spring and a Storm

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

Please stop complaining

Rain

Ground

Sky

Music

Clouds growled overhead

Thunder

Drained my soul away

Mr moon

Deep

Dark

Eternally high (great name for a giraffe)

Obscure

Star

Silent

Explosive

Create

Universe

Overworked

Re-crown

Creation

Over and over and over again

Never again

10. Two Wuv

little thing

just a fling

solely mine

mural

great eyes

fancies

apartments

enrolled in your school

bee

sadness

passes

im calling from tally hall

say that again slowly

lovliness blossomed

11. Haiku

trying

write

haiku

beyond

ancient asian poetry

lost in the sauce

formulaec verse

forte

tried attempts

lah da dee diddum lah dah dah dum ditto dum doo lah dee doh

sufficient

webster

12. the whole world and you

pretty people

sotries

passing letters

questions answered

metaphysical

astronomical

mystical

magical

la la la la la la la la la la la la

kings

distant cities

servisory

congratulatory

brewing

cooing

revealed the truth

not about me

retract

abstract

concluding

13. Ruler of everything

juno

juno was mad

shot at the sun

sun

wily

wily one only friend

mechanical hands

ruler of everything

ruler

everythung

jackrabbit

dance

zurconium pants

consequental

trance

walk

talk

disintegrates

chalk

wif

job

egocentric

mannerisms

wall

mirror

clearer

standing so tall

slobber

clovers

side of the hill

observing the birds

circle in for the kill

facade

scam

cry

detective undercover brotherhood

objective obscene

flibbity jibbity jibber jabber

word to sell story to tell

ringing the bell

comprehend

ubderstand

you resemble a fool

bumbling dragon

14. Hidden in the sand

playing in the sand

found a little band

bid adieu

buy a pony

15. Mucka Blucka

bluck

ba-bluck

a-bluck

blucka

bluck-bluck

blu-ha-ha

blaaah

mucka blucka

mucka-blah

mucka

mucka ba-ba

ba-ba

blough

blucka

bluck

bow

bluckity

blickity

bluck-bluck-bluck

blick

beeiiish

jerk chicken

Good & Evil

Never meant to know

lay of the land

feather in cap

sun in the sand

offered

together again

the earth can stay below

meat from the bone

perfectly equal

being alone

outermost clime

parts combine to one

around the sun

disarray

the sun the shadows cast

reasons on the other hand

2. &

love of the s*n

martyr claiming friends

either perspective of &

weak, strong

wet, dry

right, wrong

live, die

sane, gone

love, not

we forgot

hear it

dont deny it

high, low

new, old

stop, go

hot, cold

john, yoko

dark, light

good night

lesson fron their fathers

same command

lives stuck beside

words, numbers

sound, silence

stop the peace, keep the violence

no, yes

we digress

sad, hapenis (i know how to spell happiness i just cant unhear "ha penis oh god")

big bad betty

golden rule

jungle meet

nothing to love, no one to beat

thungs we know, things we dont

think, cant, will, wont

loath to gather

together, bereft

capitalists, communists

hokey pokey

hate eachother, love yourselves

heaven, hell

3. you & me

starting out a road

carefully unload

open-eyed

another seed to sow

getaway undone

divine, circular design

do do-do do-do

time, place

points along a line

keep on turning

sitting in the park

carefully remark

better when youre learning

in the dark

keep on turning

turn away and around

ive been coming down

4. cannibal

cavern

place where she can stay

darkness

obsessed

need to feed

willing victim

cannibal

rips out my bones

animal

blood is drained

calls it a game

wound

unimstakeable

dig up the skeletons

believe

corners disguised

phantom of glammer

feeding

conceding

5. who you are

appointment

sitting, waiting, hoping

air, night, airplane

flight overcame

distance

emmiting a glow

holding the thoughts

thinking too often

little aloft

not enough heart

armed to the teeth

fireside

falls down

rose up, rode underground

finding found

6. sacred beast

service of the king

almighty

in control of everything

queen decides

lives, dies

tonight we will sing

love, *humming and whistling*

easiest thing

mission

slay the sacred beast

claim our innocence

wont return

feast

riding high

hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm

easisest thing

mission

claim our innocence

it knows its only truth

made of lies

auht, ever-wise

compromise

other sides of our disguise

seperate peace

LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE AWSOME TALLY HALL CONTENT LIKE THIS!!!

[gutterbonestm]

Tattoo design of a moth being singed by candle flame

[dreamwatch]

Spoilin' for a Fight

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #8 - Prompt: Band Politics | Word Count: 920 | Rating: T | CW: language, lot's of language! | POV: None | Pairing: None | Tags: Transcript, band fight, arguments, petty bullshit, our babies are divas now! | AO3

****

Transcript of recording made backstage at Corroded Coffin concert - Starplex Ampitheatre, Dallas, TX, Aug 5th, 1996

Eddie Munson (Lead guitar & vocals): You were off.

Jeff Williams (Lead vocals and rhythm guitar): Where are the black towels?

Gareth Jones (Drums): Excuse me?

EM: Your timing was off!

GJ: Yeah, time for the old man to get his ears checked.

JW: Don’t we have a dozen black towels on our rider?

EM: My ears are fine, your timing however—

GJ: You’re going senile, you can set your watch by me.

EM: Yeah well that’s not much use to me if you’re playing in a different time zone, is it?

Matt Morrison (Bass): There’s no Cherry Gatorade either. And your timing was definitely off, you were throwing me all over the place.

GJ: Well maybe it wouldn’t be if he wasn’t out there playing like Yngwie fucking Malmsteen! See that? That’s a grey hair I didn’t have when you started that solo. I was worried I’d never see my kids graduate.

EM: So you admit you were off?

GJ: You know, sometimes you’re a real (inaudible)

JW: Jesus Christ. Calm down, dude.

GJ: I’m calm! 

MM: And there’s no Sprinkle Spangles. 

EM: You have one job - keep the fucking time. That’s it. Not that hard, man. 

GJ: Oh, not that hard? What are you, Neil Peart now?

EM: I couldn’t be any worse than you. 

GJ: Go fuck yourself, Eddie.

JW: Gareth! Come on.

(Sound of door slamming)

MM: Let him go, he was pissing me off as well.

JW: You weren’t exactly on top of things yourself, man.

MM: I beg your pardon?

EM: I could hear your bass.

MM: You’re supposed to hear it!

EM: I don’t need to hear that much of it!

(Sound of door opening)

GJ: And if we’re critiquing one another, you were flat and Jeff was pitchy as hell. And Matty, there are four strings on a bass, try using the other three.

EM: Yeah, sure, whatever.

JW: Nothing wrong with my vocals, dude. Stick to your own lane. And Eddie’s right, your timing was all over the place tonight.

MM: You know something, I’m going to make sure my amps are right up tomorrow night, drown you assholes out completely.

GJ: I wasn’t off!

MM: The Bud is warm. What the fuck is up with this venue, man?

EM: We give you a solo slot to show off your chops, when it’s my solo just do your fucking job. 

GJ: You give me a solo spot so you can all take a piss! Let’s not pretend it’s some gift from the band to me, you want a bathroom break.

MM: To be fair, the audience needs a bathroom break, too.

JW: Not helping. And Eddie, he’s right, that solo was longer than we planned.

GJ: Thank you. There’s only so many hours a man can listen to that shit before he loses concentration. 

EM: It was the same solo I played in Houston.

MM: It was definitely longer.

EM: Well even if it was, and it wasn’t, your supposedly professional musicians. If I’m improvising, and I wasn’t—

JW: You absolutely were—

EM: I wasn’t! But even if I were, you should all be able to adapt and keep up with me. All you have to do is stay in the groove. You were like fucking… he was doing some weird fucking jazz thing out there, for God’s sake. 

GJ: I was trying to keep us all awake! You should be kissing my feet, I was bringing much-needed energy to that shitshow. Did you see the audience? They looked like they were all on fucking Ambien!

EM: Fact remains, you are a drummer. You have one job - keep time. 

GJ: Oh that’s my job? I just keep time?

EM: Yes?

GJ: I bring nothing else to the table?

(Long pause in recording)

MM: You make great lasagne.

(Laughter can be heard)

EM: You do make great lasagne.

JW: I’m pretty sure he buys that in.

GJ: Oh fuck you, I do not!

MM: Did anyone find the black towels?

EM: Just use a white one for Christ’s sake.

JW: We have them on the rider—

EM: It literally doesn’t matter!

MM: It’s the principle, dude! Today it’s black towels and Cherry Gatorade, Tomorrow it’s your Paul Mitchell Tea Tree Oil shampoo.

EM: If that ever happens, the venue is blacklisted. That’s no joke.

JW: I need to talk to Phil (Jackson - Band Manager), I’m fucking done. I need my black towels.

(Sound of door opening)

MM: Ask him about the Gatorade! A man could die of thirst here.

GJ: There’s water right there, dude.

EM: And Bud.

MM: But I want Cherry Gatorade. Why is that so hard to understand? It’s on the rider for a reason. I need hydration after—

EM: Then drink the fucking water!

GJ: How much hydration can you need? You stand in one spot all night!

MM: I beg your pardon?

GJ: Am I wrong?

MM: Yes! You are!

EM: I’m staying out of this one.

(Sound of door opening)

JW: Okay, towels are coming, they were in another dressing room.

GJ: Fucking amateurs, man.

MM: What about the Gatorade?

JW: Shit. Forgot, sorry.

MM: Son of a bitch. 

EM: Can someone explain to me what the fuck is wrong with the water?

GJ: Wait a second… some fucker’s recording this!

(Sound of tape clicking off)

End Transcript

****

If you're an Iron Maiden fan... you know what this is from!

Also - I might retcon Matty's last name at some stage so if you see it change... no you didn't!

[aihoshiino]

chapter 145 thoughts!

what even was this chapter, y'all. i'm getting a migraine.

While it certainly wasn't actively bad, it basically hits on enough of the issues I've been having with the Movie Arc that if you've been reading my chapter reviews lately, you could probably write this one yourself. Weird pacing, skipping over interesting parts of the movie, continued framing of AQRB as a shallow gag and failing to follow on any of the implied development from or literally any referenced fallout of the kiss in 143? It's all here, babes. It would ultimately just be boring and redundant for me to go over all that at length again, so I won't.

I will however say that I'm pretty disappointed we're blasting through what had the potential to be some really interesting bits of postmortem characterization for Ai, even filtered through 15YL. I don't mind the manga breezing past scenes we saw firsthand but like… how did Ai react when she realized she was pregnant? How did she feel, especially given that Spica once again emphasized her longing for a family of her own? IDK. The way the story is suddenly jolting forwards in these last few chapters and skipping such huge chunks of Ai's life ultimately feels very strange and I don't know what to make of it yet.

Everyone reacting to Crow Girl's acting was pretty funny though I'm kind of exhausted with Ruby's Gaga-For-Oniichansensei Gag Character flanderization. IDK if my tolerance for it is just decreasing or if it really is amping up, but at least in the 125-137 stretch I at least got the sense that they could be in the same room and have a normal conversation but ever since 139, it feels that bit more relentless. I imagine this would be less irritating if we knew how the aftermath of 143 had played out but it really seems like the manga is going to drag this out until we're all old and grey.

THAT SAID, this chapter does confirm that Aqua's hoshigan stayed white after that chapter and… eh. Who even knows what that means lol. It does at least imply that his talk with Ruby has brought him back to Baseline Aqua but Baseline Aqua is still a guy with every single mental illness on planet earth so I don't know if that's the world's biggest W quite yet. It certainly implies an improvement over double black hoshigan but… again, with Aqua being so totally cut off from the readers this whole arc and no idea of what happened in the aftermath of 143, it's impossible to make a meaningful guess as to wtf is going on with Aqua right now.

Oh yeah, uh. This chapter also I guess constitutes the reveal of how the AQRB reincarnation happened. I guess LMAO. Honestly, I don't have much to say about it other than it feels like a bit of an anticlimax for me? The idea works fine, the execution just left me… idk. Whelmed at best, underwhelmed at most. I feel like this backstory and the implied deep fondness for GRSR -> AQRB it implies doesn't really like up with the personality she displays in the Private arc but like, I kind of feel like she was tossed into the story without Akasaka having a clear idea as to what her role was even going to turn into so maybe that's not a surprise LOL

I will say I'm glad this seems to quash the theory that Aqua and Ruby were secretly capital-G Gods, instead framing it as a Tsuru no Ongaeshi type return of kindness to two otherwise mundane people. There was some fun fan theorizing around the idea, but for me personally, Oshi no Ko is most interesting when it focuses on that aspect of the story Akasaka highlighted in an interview recently, of human relationships being warped by the entertainment industry and I think an explosion of the emotional stakes to the cosmic scale of AQRB (or tbh any of the characters) being Secretly Gods All Along would be a bit of a shark jump for me and would really shift away from what I like about the series most.

That's kind of it for this one…! Not really a lot to say about this chapter, which is why most of this review was me explaining why I didn't have a lot to say about it.

[sun-and-moon-merch]

Sun & Moon (8 inch figure)

$39.99 USD

Height

8”

Release

08/13/2024

Colorway

Lights on

Bigger, badder and better than ever, it’s time to behold Youtooz’s first-ever 8-inch figure with Sun & Moon’s larger-than-life return! With Sun on one side with their arms outstretched welcomingly while Moon on the other with a leg raised up high doing a cheeky jig, the daycare attendant’s personalities are connected as they stand back to back ready for the flick of a light switch. Sun’s smiling face is a light cream curling over yellow and is surrounded by large spikes as Moon is a perfect contrast made of light grey and black as they wear a floppy blue and yellow hat. Colored in either red and yellow with thick stripes, or blue and yellow with shining stars, they wear in striped collars, two-tone shirts and long gloves as their waist cloths frill out above puffy pants that taper at their ends above brown shoes that curl back and are tipped with yellow balls. This collectible was designed in collaboration with community member @therealracckun and ships in a lovingly designed black and yellow box that sees their likeness on either side in front of glowing suns and moons.

Promotional Photos:

Alternate Views of the figure:

[catandravendesigns]

Coming this Friday August 27th at 8am PST, the Stardew Valley inspired collection of bar soaps is nearly here!

Today's final bars are:

Sebastian

Scent: Bergamot Black Tea. Described as notes of bergamot, lime, earl grey tea leaves, cucumber, beeswax, amber, and musk.

Ingredients: olive oil, rice bran oil, coconut oil, palm oil (RSPO), sodium hydroxide, almond oil, castor oil, canola oil, sodium lactate, cocoa butter, shea butter, fragrance, micas, and biodegradable glitter.

2am Bedtime

Scent: Lemon Verbena. Described as notes of citrus and sugar bolster a heart of lemon verbena and lemongrass.

Ingredients: olive oil, rice bran oil, coconut oil, palm oil (RSPO), sodium hydroxide, almond oil, castor oil, cocoa butter, shea butter, melt &amp; pour embeds, sodium lactate, fragrance, micas, and biodegradable glitter.