#cymbals eat guitars

[tsdirtyshirley]

[unbornwhiskeyy]

pennants stiffen on the strip wind is whipping through the tinsel fixed to the dealership and you're looking mighty ghostly just like bowie on soul train wrapped in your sable

let's throw some brake light in the night oh it looks so nice to me, i know so what i wasn't having no nightmares probably 'cause i couldn't catch the rem

warning: i am some kind of handful empty as a dream grand central when i leave, gonna need my body the shape of true love is terrifying enough

[emmanuelscastle]

Early 80s New York City Biblically filthy I was a child but still no door was closed to me Those men were my protectors and my family And the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen "Honey, let us color it so you don't look like a little old lady" Instead I rocked Herman Survivors and shaved my head clean I think It was Charlie who started calling me Bootsie Brown liquor, downers, and powders clouded out the bad dreams But not before I saw some shit I wish I didn't see

[tuuneoftheday]

Empty Country - David

[wintertrash]

Every decision I have ever made

Bred the branching future's mute howlers

With burst-vessel red eyes

Roaring inaudibly

On the freezing morning

Walk to the dim corner grocery

What hangs over big empty country

Reborn in negatives of photos of dusk

Regret so huge it's on a phantom axis

Receding beaches hissing hearing damage

And the miles-long column of cold moonlight cast across

Still seas when my nose begins to bleed

[berritart]

metalhead!abby blurb #teehee

a/n previously posted abt this and it has not left my mind since i needed to get it off my BRAIN

maybe it was the way her hair fell over her face everytime her head slowly nodded to the beat of the music. or maybe the way her band tee was so tight around her biceps it made you squirm. you couldn't even pay attention to the guitar riffs and cymbals clashing from the stage. all your attention was on the girl in the far corner of the venue.

you definitely seen her before. usually she was with a group of friends, always conversating with the bands afterwards. but you didn't realize how fucking good she looked tonight.

you were staring too long and too hard at the woman you didn't realize she was staring back. god. your eye contact wouldn't leave hers, her blue orbs staring you down like a hungry wolf. how did a simple stare down make your cunt pulsate between your thighs?

the set finished, causing you to come back to earth, breaking your eye contact with the girl. everyone disbursed from the pit to take a break while the next band set up, leaving little people to block you from her view. you couldn't help but to stare at her again though, watching her walk to the make-shift bar near the restroom.

you quickly scurried past the bar and into the restroom to fix your lip combo and hit your pen. you wanted to talk to the woman, definitely knowing you wouldn't be able to do it sober. you leaned against the stall near the sink and took another hit, not noticing the creeking of the restroom door.

"went straight to the restroom, couldn't even bring yourself to talk to me." the woman chuckled, tossing her half empty can in the trash. "oh my fucking god..." you gripped onto the sink, taking deep breaths as she continued to laugh at you. being startled was definitely an understatement. "you fucking scared me."

"you were the one eyeing me down like crazy out there. i think i should be scared." she leaned against the bathroom wall, arms crossed. your eyes started to wander. she had such a nice body. her arms all muscle, her height towering over you, her thighs fitting so good in her baggy black jeans. you can't even imagine how good it'll feel to ride her thigh, to feel her muscles flex against your clit.

"you're not very subtle are you?" she interrupts your provocative thoughts and gaze, teasing you once again. "can i?" she pointed her chin at your pen. "forgot my shit at home."

"what makes you think i would let someone i don't even know the name of hit my pen?" you scoff, placing it in your back pocket. you were lying out your ass. and it was so obvious. she could read you like a book and you hated it. you barely knew her.

"well my name is abby so..." she moved a bit closer to you, the tension between you getting thicker. she snaked her hand to the back of your jeans to slide your pen out, bringing it up to her lips. "open." abby whispered, and you weirdly obeyed her. maybe it was because the hits you took earlier was already getting to you. she took a rather long hit, just to blow it back in your mouth. and you took it all, lips still agape after inhaling. her lips were still so very close to yours, only a lick of space keeping her lips from grazing against yours.

"you want me to kiss you?" abby hummed, placing her finger through your belt loop to tug you closer. you couldn't even say what you wanted to say, only a simple nod and a "mhm" was done. "sweet girl can't use her words huh?" she teased, kissing the corner of your mouth softly. "tell me."

your head was so fuzzy and not because of your pen. the effect she had on you was obscure. all that was present in your mind was abby, abby, abby. you whined softly, gripping on those biceps you like a little too much. "i want you to kiss me..." after those six words left your mouth nothing else had to be said for her to kiss you.

it felt like she was eating you alive, both hands gripping your hips as her tongue explored the warm cavern of your pretty mouth. she pulled you in one of the stalls before anyone else could come in the shared space of the restroom. "taste so good doll..." she moaned against your mouth, placing her knee between your shaky legs.

your panties were drenched and her knee placement wasn't helping either. she kept nudging her knee against your core, rocking it back and forth. it was too much. you couldn't believe how only her knee and lips could make you inch closer to your climax. "a-abby-" you whimpered against nothing as she pulled away, admiring how fucked you looked. "such a pretty girl. you look so good like this." her lips traveled down to your neck, nipping softly as she traveled further down. your hands traveled to her hair, tugging softly as you continue to grind yourself on her knee.

"'m g-gonna cum-" you cried quietly, your movements getting sloppier and sloppier. abby paid no mind, tugging your tank top and bra strap down to reveal one of your boobs. she took your sensitive nipple in her mouth, sucking and biting down softly. your eyes started to tear up, abby's mouth pushing you over the edge. "o-oh my g-god-" you leaned your head back against the cool stall, letting your orgasm wash over you. her tongue traced circles around your areola, then letting it go with a lewd pop. she placed a chaste kiss on your lips before fixing your appearance, pulling your bra and tank top strap back on your shoulder.

you two hear the loud echo of drums, signaling the show was starting back. abby pulled away from you, a big smile plastered on her face nothing could wipe off. as you two left out the restroom she placed her hand in your back pocket, pulling you closer to her so she could whisper in your ear.

"can i take a pretty girl home and finish what we started?"

[lifemod17]

Emergence by Sleep Token

📸: andyforduk | instagram

IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

FORGIVE HIM FATHER FOR HE HAS SYNTH!!!

crying because as i'm listening to this, i'm brought back to the Drumeo video where II says that he listens to the other instruments, vocals, riffs etc. first before he adds his drum part to better fill in the gaps and just. [deep sigh] he stays being THEE DRUMMER EVER. also i'm such a fan of whenever he does the little tippy taps on the cymbals, i love it so much 🥰

the off kilter flow in verses two and three!!! i'm obsessed!!! also am i hearing little whispered/breathy "HA!"s in the background? specifically after he says "sapphire on my white gold"? honestly just the adlibs during the verses are so cool to me, i like that production

HELLO GUITAR!! mister token the fourth is going to look so cunty just absolutely shredding that live, i just KNOW it! AND BASS!!! bass cam boutta pop off (possibly sporting the new pink dyed hair mister III? 👀)

THE "WOO". MAKES ME SO HAPPY. SHIT EATING GRIN TYPE OF HAPPY!!!

the saxophone... oh miss ma'am Gabi Rose, you are too good to us. perfectly paired with that piano underneath?? Vessel i am running out so INSANE OF YOUs OAUGHH 10/10 no notes!!

what i'm also getting from this song- particularly the chorus- is how Vessel is solidifying his signature sound. like the chorus sounds very TMBTE "bite back in anger" and Euclid "this bough has broken through". i'm not saying i'm right, i'm saying that's how it sounds to me okay? nobody come for me.

"go ahead and wrap your arms around me" 🥺😭 not diving in the deeper meaning and metaphors/similes or whatnot of the lyrics- purely from a surface level view: that bridge wrecked me. "and you might be the one to take away the pain and let my mind go quiet, and nothing else is quite the same as how i feel when i'm at your side" Vessel took hold of my heart and wrung it out like wet laundry, i legit teared up. THAT'S how that bridge made me feel. 🙃 THE YEARNING, WE ARE SAUTEING IT TOGETHER MY DUDES!!!

[major-toast]

Rosekiller Band AU // nsfw

Currently thinking about a rosekiller band AU, but they've recently broken up and are rather petty about it.

Evan has shaved off his blonde locks, knowing fully well how much Barty had liked them, but he doesn't much care. Especially not when Barty is standing only a few feet away from him, belting into the microphone with his pale skin and wretched tattoos gleaming ominously in the harsh green light of the spotlight above.

He's shirtless - because, of course, he is -, and sporting a new set of hickeys Evan cannot remember placing there. And how can he? After all, it hasn't been him, who made out with their lead singer only minutes before their gig. Looking at them alone makes his stomach churn in anger.

He really is a massive cunt, that Crouch. There is no denying that.

For the duration of their entire set, they are shooting hateful glances at one another; the tension palpable on everyone's tongue and skin. 

Smirking at him deviously, Barty doesn't refrain from playing with the crowd, hyping them up and flirting with everyone that catches his bastard-blue eyes. Evan wants to look away, but he can't. And Barty knows it too.

He leans down, grabs Sirius fucking Black out of all people by the chin, and shoves his tongue deep down his throat. Evan almost breaks his drumstick then.

Moron.

In retaliation, he starts messing with the rhythm, going sometimes faster and sometimes slower. Usually, the two of them are in cadence, being able to rely on one another, but no more. Growing bolder and much more creative with his fill-ins, he draws attention to himself, something he is sure Barty would hate. 

His head whipping around, he glares at Evan, a muscle feathering in his jaw. Evan shrugs it off, a mocking smile on his lips as he crashes the cymbals even louder. Barty picks up on his game rather quickly. Gripping into the neck of his guitar, he starts up a riff, one that wasn't planned. Scoffing, Evan matches him.

They build up on one another, trying to one-up each other, until their is no rhythm left. Regardless, the crowd still eats it up. Cheering and hollering, they urge them on. The adrenaline rush Evan feels then, it almost makes him forget about the need to punch that cocky fuck squarely across the face - or pierce his idiot skull with one of his sticks.

Inside the dressing room is where the tension comes crashing down on them like the outer shell of a volcano exploding. A hate-fuck long overdue.

"What the hell were you playing at, huh?" Barty snarls, shoving Evan into the door as he's just closed it.

"Oh, don't come crying to me now", Evan returns with a sneer, his blood already boiling inside his veins. "If it weren't for you and your constant need to stick your cock in-between someone's legs, we wouldn't have started late, and none of this would have happened!"

"You know as well as I do, that's not what I fucking meant, Rosier! If you got a problem with me, don't be such a pussy and spit it right out!"

Then, Barty huffs, his eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a sardonic smile. "Of course, you don't have the balls to do it."

"SHUT UP!"

Pushing him back, Evan is now the one to pin him towards the lockers, his expression one of blistering fury. Still, the smile doesn't leave Barty's lips. Evan wants to kiss that stupid grin right off him.

So, that's what he does.

It's harsh, ungentle. Teeth crashing and tongues curling. Barty's hands find his hips, fisting the loose fabric hanging there. Knowing no better, Evan grips the back of his neck until his nails start drawing blood. He wants him to hurt.

"Knew you wanted me", Barty pants as they part briefly.

His hair is dishevelled and his eyes half-lidded. Flushed and heaving with desire, the blood running down his neck mixes beautifully with red splotches of his skin. Evan hates him.

Before he can snark something back, Barty has already pushed him onto one of the benches, his head hitting the wood with a dull thump. Without hesitation, he crawls on top of him, sneering down at him as his hands pin his bare throat to the seat.

Trapped, Evan can only stare back in defiance, too angry to say anything. But as Barty's hand ghost over his body, lower and lower, until they've slipped underneath his pants, an involuntary shiver escapes him.

Barty smiles cruelly. "I could smell you're dripping cunt all night. What, Rosie? So wet and just for me?"

"You probably mistook it for your own cock, Crouch!" Evan bites back, fighting a moan as the other one presses down his finger on his clit already sore from want. "You're such a fucking whore, you cannot last a minute without fucking someone. That's how desperate you are!"

"Oh, I am desperate", Barty agrees easily. "Always desperate. Especially, for you. I can never not be hard when you're around. Now spread your legs, angel. You've been empty for too long, and it shows."

"I-" But the snarky remark dies within his throat.

He really is a massive cunt. But as long as it's Evan, whose legs he's in between, he doesn't much care.

[skinomyteethh]

to be or not to be?

pairing; kelly nickels x fem! reader

summary; thoughout kelly's newfound fame as bassist of L.A guns he had been acting different though you weren't sure if it was due to the restless nights they'd spend preforming or another aspect

contains/warnings; mentions of cheating. oral (female receiving). fingering. teasing. slight cum eating? little to no dialogue. may contain spelling errors :(

authors note; I need kelly nickels' magic stick in my mouth. also it deleted the damn ask so </3 anyways I hope y'all enjoy reading this!!!

cheating in the eighties or seventies rockstar scene was not at all unusual or taboo, it was extremely difficult to find a rockstar who hadn't cheated on their spouse. hell, robert plant not only had his wife maureen he also had a tour wife and a multitude of other groupies alongside him. these stories seemed to absolutely terrify [name], the thought of her boyfriend cheating on her while on tour was extremely stomach churning.

she sat on the sofa of their shared apartment, staring at the television emotionlessly and in deep thought until a phone call disrupted her thinking. a soft sigh parted her lips as she stood up and turned off the television, walking over to the phone in the kitchen, answering it.

"hello, this is [name]." she stated rather blandly, hearing the stumming of a guitar and clashing of cymbals as well as loud laughter. "hey babe, it's me, I just wanted to check up on you." his voice was somewhat raspy, it signaled that he had continued his excessive smoking habits. this whole rock 'n' roll scene seemed to be fueled off of addictions.

[name] hummed, maintaining her hold of the phone against her ear as she laid against the wall, fooling around with the coiled cord of the telephone before finally responding. "i've been alright, how about you? are you enjoying the tour?" her tone seemed curious yet curiosity was far from what she was feeling, she had her suspicions.

a short moment of silence came upon them, though it was shortly broken by the sound of Kelly chuckling. "it's been hectic, but i'm glad you're doing alright. we're heading back to Los Angeles later today!" just as she was about to respond she heard another voice, it was the voice of another female, she sounded extremely flirtatious and seemed to have a stupid valley girl accent.

"babe, sorry for cutting the conversation short but I have to go." he remarked, letting out a small laugh before hanging up. [name] stood still for a minute, the phone still in her hand, that whole predicament was strange, unsettling even. perhaps now Kelly was apart of the bunch of idiot rockstars who cheated on their partners/spouses.

she sauntered back to the sofa, turning the television back on. overwhelming thoughts began to fill her head as she leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes. what if Kelly had been cheating on her during these past months? what if he had been cheating on her prior to those months? those thoughts filled her head as she slowly drifted to sleep.

at around mid-day the loud, almost uncanny creaking of the front door both opening and shutting startled [name] out of her sleep. she sat up, feeling slightly dazed, not fully awake. her eyes glanced back as she heard the rather heavy bass guitar case drop onto the floor. Kelly hummed placing a soft, quick kiss on her forehead, taking a seat next to her.

upon feeling his lips against her forehead all thoughts prior to his arrival began swarming back, causing her mood to sour. he noticed her sudden and rather drastic mood change, wondering what on earth could have caused it. "did you have fun with her?" her question caught Kelly off guard, what could've caused her to think he was with another woman, despite what others may think he was a loyal, committed man with no desire for anybody but [name].

"what are you talking about?" he queried, raising an eyebrow in confusion. [name] responded with a scoff, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "you think i'm stupid? I heard that girl Kelly." flashbacks seem to hit him like a wave crashing onto the shore. the girl whose voice she had heard was tracii's new groupie girlfriend, he would never and could never cheat on [name].

"that was tracii's girl." [name] rolled her eyes, her expression was tainted with judgement, she still thought he was lying. Kelly sighed, closing his eyes. he was somewhat irritated at her accusations, out of all the people in this horrid world Kelly thought [name], his girlfriend of however many years would know he would never even think of doing something like cheating.

and he was going to prove it.

Kelly was going to make her realize he still loved her. she was slightly by his abrupt actions as he somewhat roughly threw her onto their bed, haphazardly taking his clothing off. his eyes trailed down to her white lace panties, he trailed down and slotted his hand in between her thighs, tugging at the waistband of her panties with his pearly white teeth.

a soft, desperate whine escaped her lips as he tugged them down. he hadn't bothered taking them off of her completely, they were low enough for him to engulf in her pretty little cunt. his warm tongue began to eat her out rather messily, his chin was dripping wet with her arousal as he slightly nudged his nose against her clit, licking up and down her folds as if she were to be his last meal ever.

her hands roughly tugged at the roots of her jet black hair, moaning out random praises as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. Kelly circled his tongue around her clit painfully slow, [name] glanced down at him, absolutely breathless, finally muttering a coherent sentence. "babe, please.."

desperation and neediness were clear in her tone as she quietly spoke. he hummed, bringing his pointer and middle fingers up to her lips. [name] shakily opened her mouth, enveloping his fingers in the warm of her mouth, coating them in her saliva so he could prep her and finally give her what she desired the most. after a minute or two he pulled his fingers out of her mouth, bringing them down to her entrance, inserting his pointer finger, then his middle finger.

[name] bit her bottom lip roughly, gripping the cool, white sheets below her as he slowly and rather gently fingered her. soon enough, one of her hands wrapped itself around his wrist, maintaining his fingers in place as she eagerly fucked herself against them like an absolute whore. Kelly simply watched her in amusement, placing soft, teasing kisses on her inner thighs.

her movements eventually became sloppier, less desperate and calculated, it signaled that she was getting extremely close to reaching the edge. he simply removed her hand from his wrist, pulling his fingers out of her. at that moment she seemed to despise the feeling of emptiness in her, whining as she took off his underwear.

Kelly desperately slotted his dick between her wet folds, the head bumping against her clit as he moved his hips back and forth, up and down. her arms reached up, and wrapped themselves around his neck, desperately holding onto him, loving the feeling. he halted his movements shortly after, grabbing the base of his dick, breathing heavily while he lined himself up with her hole, reaching his hand down, slapping her cunt before inserting himself into her slowly.

he moved his hips closer to her, watching as her soaking cunt absolutely devoured every inch of his cock. Kelly sighed euphorically as he finally inserted himself completely into her, bottoming out. [name] began to crave him even more than before, slowly moving her hips against him, his hands gripped onto her hips tightly, stopping her movements as he began to roughly thrust in and out of her.

each time their hips met her body felt an overwhelming wave of pleasure, her tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrust. Kelly leaned down, pressing his chest to her back, placing soft kiss on the back of her neck as she moaned breathlessly. he reached his hand under her, groping one of her tits, adding even more pleasure into the mix.

every thrust, every groan, every touch drew her closer and closer to her orgasm. her moans began to grow louder and her body became somewhat limp as she finally reached her high, cumming all over his cock. "that's a good girl.." he mumbled, continuing to thrust into her, overstimulating her sensitive cunt.

his hip movements became sloppier by the second until he finally spilled his load deep inside her. slowly and shakily he pulled out, once again slotting his head in between her thighs, spreading her folds open with his fingers, pushing whatever mixture of their cum spilled out back into her.

finally, Kelly sat up, laying his head against the headboard, breathing heavily. "I hope that showed you how much I absolutely love you and how I would never cheat on you hun." he mumbled, bringing her closer to him. [name] let out a breathless chuckle, laying her head down on his abdomen, glancing up at him.

"it definitely proved something like that."

[meowtalhead]

BEHOLD my new oc

Her name is Barry

She's a cat made of darkness and the concept of heavy metal with whiskers, tail, and claws made of fire (the fire doesn't burn things if she doesn't want it to, it's just really warm, and also red because that's a badass color)

She lives in a dimension of rock and roll, and emerges into this world through portals that exist within pyro at concerts to kick ass in the pit. She's like the guardian of the pit, she keeps people safe in there

She usually only reveals herself to one or a few people at a time, the rest are left with a vague, blurry, dream-like memory of another... human? whose features they can barely recall

If you leave your guitar case open she will sleep in it. She is way too big to fit. But that will not stop her. She's also going to eat all the snacks you have in your tour bus

If she likes a band she reaches into the musical currents of the universe and pulls out vinyl copies of their entire discography to add to her collection. She can do this even if the music in question wasn't released on vinyl, or was never even recorded in the first place

Purr sounds like a bass riff (think the second half of the breakdown in body bag by beartooth), meows sound like a guitar, hiss sounds like a combination of distortion and a cymbal crash, etc.

Very soft fur, but when you look at it from the right angle it's actually a swirling shadowy void full of glowing red sparks which are the manifestations of songs artists put their whole heart into

[imaginatorofthings]

Skeletá Thoughts

I am unwell over this album.

I haven't felt this excited over an album release since "Nurture" by Porter Robinson (that was in 2021! Wow!!)

For context, I'm very new to Ghost and I've listened to a few songs so far (putting in a list for organization)

Year Zero (mashes well with Funkytown!)

Square Hammer (the organ in the beginning! It's so catchy!)

Rats (THEM RATS WOAH-OH-OH!)

Respite on the Spitalfields (the guitar solo at 2 minutes in!!! I love love love it okay? Nothing ever lasts forever / We will go softly into the night <- okay what if you killed me right here IT'S SO GOOD AUGH)

Phantom Of The Opera (IT'S SO GOOD, THE GUITAR AND DRUMS AND FAST LYRICS)

Cirice (a great near minute of instrumental before the vocals kick in)

Dance Macabre (I should listen to this a bit more to get a proper opinion on it)

Mary On A Cross (against all odds, it's very catchy)

Kiss The Go-Goat (mwah!)

Majesty (just listened to it today, so I need a bit to digest it)

Call Me Little Sunshine (it's gritty and gesturing for you to follow it)

And a few that I'm probably forgetting right now. But I'm really really loving this so far!

Thoughts on Skeleta below the cut! No rating because these are my rambles. Lyrics were pulled up while listening.

TLDR: It's all good (to me)! 80s sounding with some twists and turns! It's great.

Peacefield

The CHOIR OPENING. I ascended about there. Deities, I'm just...

THEN I GET HIT BY JOURNEY'S "SEPARATE WAYS" /POS

We all need something to believe in Until it's over, anything, anyone, anytime But it's not over yet

I died here---

Your love, bright as the starlight Oh, child, still we can see A black moon, over the peacefield Oh, child, stay close to me

And was promptly resurrected around here.

I'm already bopping my head to this and it's very 80s!

Lachryma

Gentle organ with reverb, then TA-TAK-TAK with the drums and guitars!

Ah yes, the song where I pressed the video to see what people were going feral over. I get it after some research (face prosthetics + face paint? Oh dear, no wonder the lead singer made a few changes).

It feels like a pop song with a good guitar solo! The costuming is very good and I love the video overall. It's a nice vibe. I'd sing this.

Satanized

I can hear that bass and I love Ghost for that. Bass my beloved.

I may call this "Sanitized" as a joke...

The call-and-response is strong here with "Blasphemy, heresy / Save me from the monster that is eating me". I imagine that this is a crowd-pleaser during rituals.

I admit I was mouthing the lyrics during my full album listen of this. Especially that chorus. And the video with the reveal! Pretty cool.

Guiding Lights

And here we enter unknown territory from the singles.

The piano surprised me! Sounds like something I'd make up when I make my tunes /pos

And the quiet, ballad-feeling feeling soothed me for the entire song.

That thе road that leads to nowhere is long And that those who seek to go there are lost The guiding lights (lights), they lead you on And the road that leads to nowhere is long

Peeps...if I listened to this on a bad day, I'd probably end up crying. Oh deities, this is good.

And it's just so good.

AND THE OUTRO, AUGH I COULD CRY

De Profundis Borealis

Again with the gentle piano, reminds me of "Change Your Mind" by Vancover Sleep Clinic and Said The Sky.

THEN THE ROCK KICKS IN AND SCARES ME SLIGHTLY

And the tempo with the guitars start picking up and I go "OH HELL YEAH" and this lil' grin goes on my face.

It's like waking up after being thawed for so long and trying to run after that sun to get warmed up again. You're tripping and watching the landscape through the edges of your vision, but you're still running, running, running!

And you reach that sunlight and warmth and now you're running not to chase it, but because you're alive.

Cenotaph

Lovely cymbals / hi-hat, and a ring-tone sounding jingle! Then that guitar kicks in!!

Very oldies feeling!

It feels like someone urging someone else to step out and relive through some old memories. Perhaps it's someone older with money and no time, indulging in their inner child who had so much time and no money. It's so giddy with how much it's making me happy. I can imagine spinning and dancing to this.

And that guitar is SILKY SMOOTH it's unbelievable how good that guitar is.

Let me drive into the sunset with this baring out of my speakers.

Missilia Amori

Gritty! It's so gritty.

inhales...This is a song to be a slut to. Go ahead, be badass to it. /pos

I also was not expecting those recorded groans. But hey! It gives the song some character. (A-spec speaking here)

Slutty vibes aside, it's a bit darker! It's a twisting of love, and I enjoy the narrative of it. Could definitely imagine someone hunting a person of affection down with this.

Marks of the Evil One

It didn't hit me until the 2nd verse that these were the 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Good Omens, anyone?)

There! There! <- Perfect call-and-response for a crowd

It sounds like horses galloping. Then a pause when you think you're safe...AND WE KICK IT BACK UP AGAIN!

The way that the lead singer sang some of the words like "one" is so wobbly, I enjoy that.

And the fade-out before we can hear "fuckin' there! There!"? Kinda funny.

Umbra

The dark shadows. I love the intro to this, it feels like I was about to listen to some sci-fi opening. I was expecting a bit of breakcore for a moment.

COWBELL THERE WAS COWBELL I WAS GIGGLING (I know about cowbell ghoul somewhat)

It's gave me "forbidden worship in a place of worship". Kneel and pray to your subject of affection and love that with all you can.

AND THE GUITAR AND KEYBOARD SOLO BASICALLY DANCING AROUND EACH OTHER, it was so good and silly

Excelsis

Second quiet ballad-feeling song. I've heard from skimming Tumblr that this song was devastating to people, but it wasn't too bad for me personally? Everyone is different after all.

This is a quiet comfort to someone who's scared of dying. There is still time. There are second chances. There is still time.

It's okay. It'll be okay.

There's a bit of power on the bridge and guitar, breaking from the ballad-like feeling of the rest of the song, because this is a rock band.

And the outro?

This is the end of the avenue I am afraid of eternity, too

Why did that HIT

Eternity is scary, dying is scary. It's all scary.

But it'll be okay. There is still time.

Take my hand, and we'll stay for a bit longer.

[has-been-bitch]

intro post

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about me

name: hasbeenbitch pretty much everywhere

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gender and pronouns: trans dude, he/him

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sexuality: if you got that dawg in you, i can be in you. 👹👹 (unlabeled i guess)

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age: 19. minors please dni, it like.. feels weird asf when i see someone who is 12 or sumn liking my posts like.. i post: 1, hazbin shit, which yall shouldn't be watching anyways if you're under like, 16 😟. and 2, i post freaky shit sometimes. again, weird seeing KIDS. like posts like that

what i do

art:

- just.. drawings in general i guess

- are we separating cute sketches from like.. digital paintings?

- i attempt animation. if i actually ever finish one, ya'll'd be lucky.

..other shit?:

- the occasional edit

- i cosplay on my tiktok account- it's linked up there 👹

- yap and yap and never ever shut the fuck up 😁😁

fandoms:

- take a wild, fat guess... (hazbin hotel.)

- helluva also got that dawg in it.

- hermitcraft/life series(dont expect much if any content from that here though.. this is pretty much just a hellaverse acct for me 👹)

- is having backyard chickens considered a fandom

- ..is wind band/orchestra technically a fandom...

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dni

honestly basic shit: homophobes, transphobes, racists, pedos, other idiots.

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if you dont like hazbin, you.. probably wanna go elsewhere. i mean interact if yall want, but.. literally all i plan on posting is hazbin. specifically husk

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on that topic, people who argue that angel's abuse is worse than husk's. abuse is abuse no matter what..

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ANYONE UNDER 16 i'm iffy about. i post.. weird, freaky shit sometimes. and it feels weird and uncomfortable when a 12 year old likes a post i make talking about how i'd rail husk to heaven and back.. like.. you're in 6th grade.. go read the giver and work on your algebra homework.. not watch hazbin 😟

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PLEASE DO INTERACT

other hazbin fans

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artists(visual, musical, any and all art is appreciated here)

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..band nerds. we need more tuba players up in this bitch. like.. yess i'll gladly take a lap dance from a fat hunk of metal while i blow vigorously into her mouthpiece.. tuba is so sexy.

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other shit

2 years on this fat dick 💪💪 (testosterone)

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im currently in college for animation. i originally got in for music ed.. 😟😟 scary place (12 classes. NOT 12 credit hours. 12 CLASSES. in ONE semester.) maybe one day i can work for spindlehorse or a24, or another sickass studio like them.

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i play tuba(my baby ❤️❤️), trombone, piano, guitar, general percussion(mallets, timpani, chimes, fuckin.. vibraslap, finger cymbals, regular cymbals.. you get the idea.), and i dabble in some drumset

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a lot of people think im nonbinary and go by they/them. i feel like i need to clarify i am NOT enby. i explicitly DONT go by they/them, because no one ever fuckin respects the fact i'm just a dude. its like people dont fully see me as one, but i appear to masculine to be called she, so people call me they in an attempt to feminize me. do NOT. i can still be fully a man, and still serve cunt and eat that ass up.

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i have autism if you couldnt tell already by my lack of ability to shut the fuck UP about my life/what i like/what i'm passionate about/overexplaining things. i feel like.. on the topic of overexplaining i guess.. feel like i need to clarify that i ain't just bein like 'omg im so quirky and autistic 😝😝' like i was diagnosed at 13 👹👹

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i use the 👹 emoji a lot bc like.. he's so me fr. like thats my default face. i'm asked to smile for a picture? 👹. i take a picture of myself? 👹. he is me and i am him 👹👹

if you like the following bands:

- MAN MAN. my #1, my bae.

- squirrel nut zippers

- cherry poppin' daddies

- asylum street spankers

- big bad voodoo daddy

- just fucking JAZZ music in general.

- lets not forget classical music (currently listening to Chorale and Shaker Dance by John P. Zdechlik rn as i write this entire intro at 1 in the morning. i'm not even christian- the song is just a really fuckin fun, interesting song)

- on that topic.. fun, interesting song enjoyers.

- will wood got that dawg in him.

- MAN MAN. if yall know any other bands that like.. have a guy screaming bloody murder, screaming out his fucking soul, over a dissonant marimba, some congas, a trumpet, a tenor sax, and a flute having an orgy-

PLEASE let me know. or invite me, i'd be down for that too 👹👹

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ok thats it im done yapping

[sexhaver]

God damn I haven’t thought about Cymbals Eat Guitars in a solid decade. Indiana was such a banger.. “after driving you home once STILL HALF HI-IGH!”

Were you the blogger who would post les os all the time also

yeah that was/is me. it's really convenient how half the songs that still get stuck in my head today were doing the same thing in high school so i uploaded most of them before the copyright strike system happened

[emmanuelscastle]

A flat affect But I really care I see some far-out shit that isn’t there

[mel-attempts-to-write]

 Skullfucker Begins

That afternoon, my friend Hunter had invited me to play (and by that, to watch him practice guitar) at his house. I had no other plans, plus I always had a nice time with him, so I accepted. We settled in the basement, and after eating some snacks and chatting for a while, he grabbed his favorite guitar and started practicing.

He commented that he was writing a new song while plugging the guitar into the amplifiers. In fact, I didn't pay much attention, I was looking at the walls covered in posters.

  “Ugh! This pick sucks.” he said after playing a couple of chords and making a mistake, while I looked at his guitar collection. I fiddled with one of the drum cymbals, the instrument Hunter designated for me.

  “My strap's not right. That's…” Hunter clarified, pausing, adjusting it. I looked away to a secluded corner of the room, where a family photograph rested on a small shelf. In it, Mr. Sylvester smiled, putting an arm around his son. On the other side of the boy, a woman crossed her legs and rested her hands on her lap. The head had been torn off, leaving an incomplete corner in the photograph.

  “Okay. Okay, there we go.” he repeated the series of notes. I looked at the snake he had as a pet, I hated it. I didn't understand why anyone would want to have that in their home, with all the possible risks. Anyways, his father had to compensate for the divorce with something.

  Ozzy Osbourne, Metallica, Body Count, Baroness, Black Sabbath, I read the names of the posters I could figure out. Several of them used complex fonts, as if the point was to hide the band's name beneath extravagant letters.

  “Cocks!” my friend exclaimed, after having made another mistake. "All right, hold on. Let's scoop that midrange." he clarified, adjusting the volume of the amplifiers. "Nice."

 He walked back towards the practice area, hunching his back and letting his long hair fall, scratching the strings with precision.

  “One, two, three, four!” he marked the time, and then I joined. I gave the drums a few random hits with the sticks, and just a few seconds later Hunter stopped playing.

 “Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.” With both hands, I grabbed the cymbals, muffling the sound. He frowned, tilting his head to his right “What was that?”

 “I was just-- You said ‘play something fast.’” I commented, waving my drumsticks in the air, emphasizing the point.

 “Did you read the music that I wrote for you?” he asked, nodding towards the music stand right next to me. I pointed at it with my right arm, reading out of the corner of my eye the title of the song, “Machinery of Torment”, written in letters… I couldn't describe them exactly, they possibly looked like Nordic runes.

  “Yeah”

  “Do you know what polyrhythms are?” He inquired, drawing his eyebrows even closer together.

“Yeah.” I murmured, positioning my arms like jugs and nodding my head.

 I don't. These aren't my drums; they belong to Hunter. And he came up with the band name. I don't play the drums, I play the drum, in marching band for two years. I do it to get out of PE, but Hunter says that doesn't matter. All it takes to be great is commitment and sacrifice, which is what metal's all about. Or maybe it's about power, or sticking it to the man, or denim, or motorcycles, or speed, or the devil. I don't totally understand it, but Hunter says I don't have to. All I have to do is…

  “Play something heavy, man.” He said.

  “Okay, Like, uh… ‘Rock of Ages’?” At my words he only made a confused face, bordering on mockery.

  “Heavy.” He repeated “. Play… something heavy.” He ordered, pausing between each word as he played the chords of the song. He then repeated the phrase again, smiling, urging me to comply with his request. I prepared myself, thinking what I could do.

 I gave my best, putting feeling into every hit towards the drums and a cymbal. The guitar stopped again, when I looked up I saw Hunter sighing. He scratched his head, meditating for a couple of seconds.

  “We need a bass player. A bass player will be huge for us.” We both nodded at his words. He was right, I supposed. Actually, I didn’t really know if the bass had an important role within a band, you can barely hear it most times.

  “Yeah, no doubt.” I commented.

  “No doubt.” Hunter rephrased, his cool confident voice seemed to fade.

  “No doubt.” I murmured, leaving the drum sticks aside.

On Monday, after some morning classes, at Glewnwood Lake High School, I had a marching band rehearsal. The wind instruments sang a somewhat distressing, but solemn melody. On one side, near the stands, a group of students in gym clothes finished their stretches after exercising.

  The band advanced through the American football field, at slow steps. I looked forward, keeping my back straight. Repeating the rhythm indicated by the director, I thought about the last time I saw my friend. He seemed a little disappointed, I felt sorry for him.

  Hunter seemed more and more erratic lately, desperate to hold on to something and forget the rest of his problems. I guess that's why he became obsessed with the idea of ​​forming a band.

  Behind me, one of the clarinets played a series of notes completely out of scale, higher and scratchier than the agreed upon melody. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as the director, a red-haired man with a gray beard, frowned his face revealing distress.

  “Stop, stop.” He indicated, moving one arm “. That’s enough for today.”

 I sighed, walking towards the locker rooms, wanting to put away the outfit I was wearing and change as soon as possible. The hat, which was mandatory to wear at all times, made me itch. I wish I didn't have lice, or something like that. I could ask my mother to wash it, although I wasn't sure if I could put the damn accessory in the washing machine.

  “Emily, can I talk to you for a second?” asked the director, his voice coming from far away. I wanted to leave as quickly as possible, besides I had to help my little brother with his math homework. “The song you're playing is not the song they are playing.  I'm not sure you're even playing a march. We've talked about this. You have to listen and play. It's an orchestra, right? I know we're in a marching band, but… I see you’re upset. “said the man.

  “Fuck you!” the person shouted. I looked again, it was a girl. She bent her body in half, screaming “Fuck! I don't give a fuck about what I'm playing! I don't give a fuck about what they're playing!  Fuck you! Fuck your shitty band! “and with that said, she threw her clarinet with the force of a football player. The instrument flew across the field, and then plummeted, nailing the tip into the ground.

  “Too bad she can't play like she throws.” commented a classmate, as I turned my eyes towards the scene.

 The girl continued uttering obscenities, and as she left, she addressed the director one last time “Cunt!”

“You can't say that in America.” Replied the man, but she turned a deaf ear and continued on her way. So did I.

 I crossed through the sports grounds, entering the school’s building. While walking inside the mass of people within the hallways, I thought about the recent events.

 That seems pretty metal to me, but I'm not sure. I'll ask Hunter about it. He's been into many things since I met him, but he's stuck with metal longer than any of them. When his mom left in seventh grade, he decided it was the key to everything. If we devote ourselves to metal, we'll own this school.

  “Watch it.” reproached a girl, with whom I almost collided for looking at the floor.

 I remembered Hunter's words, looking at the variety of popular teenagers around me, “Everybody will see what we really are and worship us like gods.” I'm willing to give it a try.

A few meters from my friend, I saw a boy approach to greet him. I don't remember his name, but he and Hunter greet each other every day at school, making the horns with their hands. After smiling at him, he saw me coming and pointed his horns at me. How strange, he seemed to point out to me.

 He's been my best friend since he stopped Molly Levin from ripping out my hair in third grade. He always looks out for me. I smiled at him, but he just widened his eyes and continued pointing his finger at me, and when he noticed that I didn't understand his message, he moved his arm horizontally against the lockers.

 I fell to the ground, the books I was holding flew and scattered as well. I almost hit my forehead on the edge of the metal, but I used both hands, one on the lockers and one on the floor, to stop the impact. I sat up little by little, looking for my books with my vision restricted by my bangs, plus I lost my glasses in the accident. As I looked up, I noticed Hunter approaching quickly.

  “Skip Hoffman sucks pig dicks.” He sentenced, grabbing one of my arms and lifting me up with a sharp tug.

 “I don't think he was trying to hit me. I was just in the way.”

We both saw a group of popular people in the distance. The aforementioned Skip Hoffman bumped fists with another brown-haired boy, who had the company of his girlfriend.

  "Clay Moss." greeted Hoffman, the brainless.

"Ready for the game?" Moss asked. I put on my glasses and got a better look at Clay's perfect smile.

"Ready to party after homecoming, buddy."  answered the tall one. Clay's girlfriend looked at her nails, uninterested in the conversation.

"Yeah, my parents are in Ginebra. So bring the whole school if you want, man, seriously." said the brunette. At his friend’s dry laugh, he repeated "Tell whoever. Everybody’s invited."

"OK."

 With that, they said goodbye. Hunter practically dragged me to the cafeteria, he said he was hungry. As we walked, he told me about an argument he had with his father that morning, I didn't even understand why they were fighting now, but it turns out he couldn't have breakfast.

 Hunter was still in line when I took a seat at our usual table. I chewed slowly, looking for the clarinet girl, and there she was. Sitting alone, listening to music and looking at the ceiling. I couldn't help but look at her, there was something about her that caught my attention. Another girl, a friend of Clay's girlfriend, tried to sit at the same table, but her friend grabbed her arm and walked to the opposite side. Girls can be quite cruel.

  "Hello, what's up?" greeted my friend, sitting in front of me. He shook his head back, adjusting his hair. Sometimes he reminded me of Prince Charming from Shrek, because of his main character attitude and because he paid too much attention to his hair.

 "Did you ask your mom about the double bass kit?" I nodded, taking a sip of water. "What’d she say?"

  “She said she doesn't have a thousand dollars.”

  “Okay, well, what about a double bass pedal?” he asked, chewing “. Won't get the resonance, but we'll have that attack.”

  “Yeah, she said she doesn't have $150 either.” I murmured, avoiding his gaze for a while. Unconsciously I focused my attention on the clarinet girl again. She seemed like she was about to cry. Hunter took notice of my distraction, he turned his head to see her for a second. 

  “She's in my speech class. I think she's English, Scottish. I don't know.” I barely heard his words, watching as the poor girl left beside her the food because of her stress”. I heard she went apeshit on the band teacher.”

  “Yeah.”

 “That's one messed up chick.” Said Hunter, taking off his denim jacket, revealing a t-shirt from the band Slayer, its name written in cuts on an arm, crimson blood flowing from them. Sometimes it was unbearable being with Hunter, everyone except of him noticed he was one messed up guy.