#he plays the HOT INSTRUMENTS (bass guitar drums) and hes like hot

[steddieas-shegoes]

pop goes metal

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'alternate universe'

rated t | 964 words | cw: language | tags: famous corroded coffin, pop star steve harrington, flirting, getting together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

"No fuckin' way are we working with him," Eddie argues with their manager. "You're always so worried about our image and then you go and have us doing a song with a fuckin' pop artist?"

The manager, Anthony, rolls his eyes. "It'll broaden your fanbase. You know who spends money on shit? Women. You know who likes Steve Harrington? Women."

"Does he even write his own shit?" Gareth asks.

"Does it matter?" Eddie turned to him with a glare. "Even if he writes it, it's not our style."

"Maybe we could at least hear what he's trying to work with us on?" Jeff, always the calming presence, asked towards Anthony.

"He sent over a sample before we sign any agreements."

Eddie sat down in the chair furthest from everyone else, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now, this isn't an official recording. Just what he did on his phone on his tour bus with his acoustic guitar. He arranged the bass already for Frankie, too, but said he's open to whatever Gareth feels is right for the drums." Anthony pressed play on his phone and the room was filled with strumming and a surprisingly raspy voice singing what was clearly a chorus.

Eddie could pretend he hated it, and maybe the guys would agree with him and they'd never have to speak of this again.

He couldn't hide his reaction fast enough, though.

His jaw dropped as he listened to the lyrics, surprised to find that they weren't just about going to a club and dancing or being in love.

Steve's voice broke at the end before there was shuffling and the recording stopped.

Eddie felt everyone's eyes on him. He closed his mouth and looked down at the floor, tapping his fingers against his arm.

"It's not bad," he finally said. "Not sure why he needs us, though."

"Apparently, his brother is a huge fan of you and suggested he try to work with you."

"I think we should do it." Jeff said, a note of finality in his tone that Eddie knew he wouldn't try arguing with.

"Yeah, can't hurt." Frankie shrugged.

"If he's giving me creative freedom on the drums, how can I say no?" Gareth smirked.

"Guess we're working with the pop diva, then."

****

Steve Harrington was nothing like what they expected.

He showed up to their studio in sweats and glasses, holding a tablet and a bottle of Tylenol. They started to introduce themselves as he found a spot on the couch.

"I'm really glad you guys were willing to work with me," he said after he shook everyone's hand.

Eddie stared.

"My uh, my brother, Dustin, he's kinda why I wrote this song and I know it means a lot that you agreed to be on it," Steve continued. "So, thanks. Hopefully it doesn't ruin your vibes or anything."

Eddie felt every wall he built crumbling with every word Steve spoke. God dammit, this man just had to be sincere and hot and talented, didn't he?

"Nah, we're gonna sound great together." Eddie smiled at Steve's wide-eyed look. "You wanna show us the whole song?"

Steve nodded, pulling something up on his phone. Another recording, this one more professional and included an electric guitar.

"Robin was the stand in for the electric while I did bass."

"So you can play bass?" Frankie asked, leaning in.

"Yeah, but my preferred instrument is piano. I just don't do a lot of slow songs. Guitar is what gets the women interested, or so they tell me," Steve smiled awkwardly. "But feel free to change some things up. I'm totally open to suggestions."

But really, it was damn near perfect as it was. Frankie made one tweak during the bridge, but Steve ended up loving it more than the original and told him so with a grin.

"You're a fuckin' genius!" He exclaimed.

Gareth started messing around on the drums while Steve and Eddie worked on the first couple of lines.

"Something still doesn't feel right," Steve mentioned.

"Maybe we change the rhyming pattern?" Eddie suggested. "You've got ABAB. Might work better to do AABB. Some of these words can be moved around to make that work."

Steve stared at the notes app for a moment, then looked back up at Eddie, beaming smile making his eyes squint.

"I could kiss you!" He shouted. As soon as he realized what he said, he blushed, looking back down at the phone. "I mean, thanks. That's a great suggestion."

Eddie searched Steve's face, coming to the conclusion that there was probably a good reason why Steve didn't care about what women liked when it came to his music.

"I have a pretty strict rule about kissing people I work with," Eddie said slowly, quietly so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Yeah, no, that makes sense. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"

"But we won't be working with each other for long, right?" Eddie continued, letting his hand rest on Steve's thigh. God, he was muscular.

"Um. No I guess not."

"Rain check, then. Until we've finished our professional relationship." Eddie couldn't believe he was suggesting this. Showing interest in a pop star. What's next? Dating one? Marrying one?

"Are you saying you wanna kiss me, Munson?" Steve suddenly sounded more confident.

"I'm saying we've got work to do before I can get my hands on you." Eddie tapped his thigh before pulling away. "So let's get to it."

"Dude! I got it!" Gareth yelled, interrupting their moment.

"Be right there!" Steve yelled back, not looking away from Eddie. "Might break a record for fastest recording time ever just so I can kiss you," Steve added quietly to Eddie before standing and walking over to Gareth.

"Well, fuck." Eddie sighed, smiling to himself.

[scary-grace]

Somewhere in the Crowd- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura tells himself he's content with singing backup in the band he founded, and most of the time he is. But when he takes a song request from you during the biggest concert the League of Villains has ever played, he realizes that there might be a few advantages to claiming the spotlight. 4.1k words, no quirks, band au. the League sounds like Lord Huron because I want them to and all songs referenced are from LH's discography.

this fic is for the lovely @scarlettcryptid's birthday! she offered me free rein to write a Shigaraki x reader fic, and true to form I have produced a band AU. happy birthday Scarlett! sorry it's a little late.

Even midway into his second tour with the band he started, Tomura still hasn’t fallen for the supposed romance of being onstage. It’s hot under the lights. The entire venue smells like sweat. And if it wasn’t for the earpiece jammed in one ear and the earplug jammed in the other, he wouldn’t even be able to hear what the rest of the band is doing. Not Twice on drums, not Toga on violin or musical saw or whatever weird instrument she dug up, not Dabi on piano or Spinner on guitar, and definitely not either Dabi or Spinner’s singing. Without the goddamn earpieces, the League of Villains would fall apart.

And at the same time, Tomura doesn’t hate it quite as much as he used to. Since the League got signed with Deika Records, they’ve been playing sold-out shows in increasingly larger venues. Tonight’s venue has three thousand people. Three thousand people paid money to get in, and some number of them paid more money to meet-and-greet with the band afterwards, and right now, all of them are focused on the stage.

They’re mainly focused on Spinner and Dabi, who are singing, or on Twice, who’s always doing something weird and destined to go viral, or on Toga, who’s better at playing to the crowd than anybody else in the band. Tomura, off to one side of the stage with his bass and a mic in front of him, might as well be an afterthought. And that’s fine with him. He’s the one who formed the band. He’s the one who writes the songs. His music is in the spotlight. That’s good enough.

They’ve just wrapped up a crowd favorite, one of the songs from the first album, and they’re officially in the back half of the set. Tomura glances down at the set list, sees the blank spot, and feels a wave of apathy sweep over him. It gets even worse when Spinner, his handpicked lead singer who’s all about keeping things fair, steps up to the mic and announces it to the crowd. “We’ve got space for one more request, so send it on over to Shigaraki! It’s his turn to pick.”

When it’s Dabi or Spinner picking the request, people rush the stage, and people rush it this time, too – so they can try to get the poster they made or the picture they want signed right up and personal with Spinner and Dabi. Tomura sidles awkwardly over to the edge of the stage, wondering if anyone will try to request something from him. Tonight there are two dozen or so, all with big posters asking for the band’s most famous songs. Someone wants a deep cut, one that Dabi sings solo, and Tomura’s feeling like an asshole, so he skips that one on purpose. And then he spots something else.

It’s not a poster or a photo for signing. It’s a piece of folded-up notebook paper, held up by someone who doesn’t look like the type to be right up front at a League of Villains concert. It’s hard to get a good look at your face with all the posters in the way, and somebody keeps bumping into you, almost knocking you over. You keep your arm up, your piece of notebook paper flapping, and Tomura reaches out to the absolute edge of his balance and snatches it from your hand.

“We have a winner,” Toga calls out, and a bunch of people cheer – because it’s Toga talking, not because Tomura grabbed a request. “What’s it gonna be, Tomura-kun?”

Tomura unfolds the piece of paper. Three words. Play your favorite.

He knew he grabbed the right one. “Lost in Time and Space,” he announces, to the tune of a collective “huh” from the audience. “Spinner. Move over.”

Spinner’s grinning as he steps away from the center mic. “We haven’t done this one in forever,” he says, too quietly for the crowd to here. He swaps his guitar for Tomura’s bass. “Whoever did the request must be a fan of yours.”

Tomura doesn’t think you are, really. He’s not even sure you’re a fan of the band. If you were, you’d have requested a specific song, not just requested that Tomura play his favorite song. Tomura feels a surge of nerves as he gets set at the center mic, then pushes them aside. Just because he hasn’t sung lead in a while doesn’t mean he’s forgotten how. Everyone might rather look at Spinner or Dabi, but for the next three and a half minutes, they’re going to have to put up with looking at him. Tomura cues the rest of the band, adjusts his grip on Spinner’s guitar, and plays.

It’s an old song, off the League’s first LP. That LP became their first album, with the weird character songs and story arcs the League is famous for, but neither Spinner nor Dabi wanted this song. Tomura doesn’t blame them. He was pretty depressed when he wrote it, and it’s a little too mopey for the LP and for what the League usually plays. But it’s his damn song. He hasn’t played it on tour at all. He’s going to enjoy it.

He does enjoy it. Not enough to make him miss singing lead or being the star of the show, but he enjoys getting to play a song that’s his, one he didn’t write to play to anybody else’s strengths. And at the end of the song, once he’s stepped away from the center mic and gone back where he belongs, he picks up the notebook paper off the stage and tucks it into his pocket. Whoever you are, he hopes you got what you were looking for out of the show. As he slogs through the rest of the set, Tomura wishes he’d gotten a good look at your face.

After three encores – a record – Tomura and the rest of the band get a break, hanging out in the green room before the meet-and-greet. Toga beelines for the fridge, but instead of opening it, she hauls out a can of air freshener from the floor next to it and starts spraying it everywhere. Twice gets a blast in the face and sneezes through his mask. “Hey, what the hell? That’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled and it sucks!”

“It smells like boy sweat in here,” Toga says. “I love you guys, but you stink. The girls at the meet and greet won’t like that.”

“Some of them are into it,” Dabi says, and smirks. Spinner grabs the air freshener from Toga and sprays both armpits. “Quit simping so hard for your fans, lead singer. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”

“They paid to come talk to us. We shouldn’t tear-gas them with our body odor.”

“So you’re going to tear-gas them with air freshener instead?”

“They’re his fans. He can do what he wants.” Tomura shakes his head when Spinner offers him the can. Deodorant exists, and it’s not like anybody’s going to want to talk to Tomura anyway. “That goes for everybody. Do what you want. But if you break Magne’s rules, you’re on your own.”

Magne’s been the tour manager since halfway through their first tour, and she’s strict as hell. In fairness to Magne, they earned it. Halfway through their first tour, one meet-and-greet turned into one party and turned into five separate scandals, one for each of them. Spinner’s was the smallest and Twice’s was pretty funny, but Dabi and Toga both spent a night in jail over theirs, and although it upped their cred with the fanbase, it also tanked a possible record deal. Kurogiri showed up to bail them out, and he brought Magne with him.

The door to the green room opens, and Magne steps in, like Tomura somehow summoned her by mentioning her name. “They’re all lined up,” she says. “I’m sneaking you in the back way. Does everybody remember the rules?”

Tomura mumbles agreement along with everybody else. Magne’s smile takes on a dangerous glint. “There are only three important ones,” she says. “First: The bus leaves when it leaves, regardless of who’s on it. I don’t care how hungover you are. Get your ass on the bus.”

When Tomura’s hungover, he usually sleeps on the bus, just to make sure it doesn’t leave without him. “Second,” Magne continues, “remember that whatever you do with a groupie is going to end up all over the internet. And don’t bring any groupies on the bus unless the rest of the band okays it.”

That’s happened exactly never. Tomura uses the bus trips for writing or for naps, and too much groupie bullshit makes it hard to do either. “And finally,” Magne says, “if I find out that any of you were hooking up with a groupie in a goddamn koi pond again, I’m taking you to the vet and having you neutered before you sober up.”

“That was one time!” Twice protests.

“Yeah, and we’re still getting therapy bills from the fish,” Tomura says. Toga cackles. “Can we get this over with?”

“Yep! Right this way.” Magne leads them out the door and down a hallway, then ushers them through the door into the venue’s VIP lounge. Tomura’s last in line, and she grabs his arm before he can go in. “I got a call from the big boss at Deika. He says to try not to look like you’re in pain the entire time.”

“Tell him to stop looking at me, then.” Tomura shrugs her off, steps through the door, and skulks over to the far corner of the room. “Nobody else is.”

Back before he made it in any capacity, Tomura used to daydream about meet-and-greets, getting all wound up over the idea that people would pay to talk to him about his music. A few years into his career, the reality’s set in: Meet-and-greets are for photos and autographs and fans throwing themselves at the artists, and nobody throws themselves at Tomura. Kurogiri thinks it’s his stage presence, or the fact that he doesn’t interact with fans on social media, or that he doesn’t look very approachable. Tomura’s pretty sure it’s about how he looks, period. With a face like his, approachable doesn’t matter.

The fans start filtering in, beelining for the others, and Tomura digs his notebook out of his pocket. He might as well write a bit.

Compress, who handles production and merchandising on the tour, swings by at one point to give Tomura the figures. They’re doing well, which is a surprise. “Even the new stuff?”

“The K-pop strategy is working,” Compress says. He lifts his mask to take a sip of water, then lowers it down again. “Everyone’s trying to collect them all – the photo cards, the different editions of the albums, the replica costume pieces. The fans on Twitter are competing to see who can get an autograph on every piece of merchandise first.”

The fans on Twitter are really stupid. “If it works, it works.”

“It’s working very well,” Compress says. He pauses. “Somebody did come by looking for something I didn’t have. They wanted a copy of Vide Noir. Not the album – the LP.”

“The LP? Why?”

“Because the album doesn’t have Lost in Time and Space on it,” Compress says. “I’m not kidding, Shigaraki. Those were her exact words.”

Tomura has a hard time believing that. He’s pretty sure Compress is saying it just to build him up, because they’re halfway through the meet-and-greet, and nobody, not even the autograph hunters, has come to talk to Tomura. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Tomura didn’t start writing music so people will talk to him. That’s what he’s been insisting on since he started the band. Midway through their second tour, it’s almost the truth.

Compress leaves, and Tomura keeps writing, scratching away at a verse that’s not coming together. He’s just starting to wonder how much longer this thing is supposed to go on for when a shadow falls across his notebook page. “Um,” a girl’s voice starts. “Hi. Are you Tomura?”

“Dabi’s over there.”

“Yeah, I saw,” the girl says. “Are you Tomura?”

“I’m Shigaraki.” Tomura doesn’t look up. “You want to talk to Spinner? He’s over there. He likes the shy ones.”

Tomura’s not sure if Spinner likes the shy ones or if he’s just less scared of them than he is of the others. For a lead singer, Spinner’s unusually spooked by his fans. “Is Spinner the one who writes the songs?” the girl asks. “I wanted to talk to the person who writes the songs. If the liner notes are anything to go by, that’s you.”

Tomura looks up at tonight’s misguided, irritating fan, and stops at chest height when notes the lack of a backstage pass around your neck. He notes your breasts, too, and the fact that you’re not showing them off. “Nice work on sneaking in here without paying. Dabi will be impressed.”

“I didn’t sneak in,” the fan says. “The woman at the door let me in when I showed her this.”

Tomura doesn’t look up, and the fan sticks a notebook into the middle of his eyeline. A notebook with lined paper and the remnants of a torn-out page still clinging to the binding. Tomura fumbles in his pocket for the request he took and unfolds it, lining it up to match the torn edge of the page. The request is a little crumpled, but when Tomura smooths it out, he can see that the edges match.

His heart skips an awkward beat, then another. He’s not talking to a random fan. You’re the one who gave him the request. He hands you back the notebook without the request sets his own notebook aside, and gets to his feet, so he can finally get a look at your face. You’re pretty, and you’re dressed like you came here straight from an office job, and you came to talk to him – and he’s been a dick. “Sorry,” he says, the word feeling awkward and unwieldy as it forces its way out of his mouth. “Thought you were here for somebody else.”

You shake your head. “I was hoping to talk to you,” you say. “Sorry about the first-name thing. That was – awkward.”

You used Tomura’s first name, and Tomura was a jackass to you. That makes it even, in his opinion.  “What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to thank you for taking my request,” you say earnestly. You remind Tomura of some of Spinner’s fans. “And I wanted to know why you picked the song you did.”

Now you sound more like one of Dabi’s fans. Dabi’s fans get kind of direct when they want something. “I’ll tell you that if you tell me why you gave me that request instead of a normal one.”

You look at Tomura, and Tomura looks back. “Can we sit down?” you ask. “I took an elbow to the knee trying to get through the mosh pit, and my leg’s still kind of numb.”

Something about that strikes Tomura as funny, but he doesn’t realize what it is until you’re both sitting down on the floor, leaned back against the wall. “Did you just make a Skyrim joke?”

“Don’t get too excited. I only know the one.” You glance sideways at Tomura. “Want to see the bruise?”

Usually when Dabi’s fans ask him if he wants to see something, they mean their tits. Or their ass. Tomura nods, and you hike up your pantleg. Tomura gets kind of fixated on your ankle, then your calf, but then you pull the fabric up over your knee, and Tomura winces in spite of himself. “Are you sure it was an elbow and not a hammer or something?”

“Maybe it was. Your fans are kind of crazy.”

“The band’s fans,” Tomura corrects. You let your pantleg fall back, covering up your calf and your ankle, and Tomura feels weirdly disappointed. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Why I gave you that request?” You tilt your head back against the wall. “You write all the songs, but you never sing lead, and songs sound different when they’re sung by the person who wrote them. I thought if I asked for your favorite, you’d pick one you sing lead on.”

And you were right. Tomura feels weird about that. Weird enough to answer your question before you can ask it again. “I picked that one because it’s the only one I still sing lead on. I have favorites for the band. But I always pick those. I just thought it might be – fun.”

“I liked it,” you say. “When Dabi and Spinner sing, they’re telling a story. It’s a good story, and they’re telling it well, but – when you sang it, it sounded like it was about you. Do you feel like you’re writing about yourself when you write songs?”

“Do you usually get this personal with people you just met?”

“I don’t usually meet my favorite songwriter,” you say. “So no.”

Your favorite. “I’m not your favorite. Don’t lie.”

“I don’t lie about stuff like that,” you say. “I wouldn’t take an elbow to the knee for my second-favorite songwriter.”

Tomura snorts. “I didn’t know people had favorite songwriters.”

“I’m weird,” you say comfortably. Now you sound like a Toga fan. Or one of Twice’s. Their fans don’t take themselves too seriously. “And I’m a writer, so I know the good stuff when I see it.”

“You write?” Tomura asks. He wouldn’t have guessed looking at you. Then again, he wouldn’t have guessed that you’d be at a League concert, either. “Poems or something?”

“No, stories,” you say. Tomura’s a little bit relieved. “Stories have arcs and plots, just like your songs do – and the band’s albums – but you do it in a lot less space than I have to work with, so you’re much more efficient. You can define a character in two lines, and it’s compelling. People connect with it. They must, or they wouldn’t dress up in those outfits.”

Tomura tries not to pay attention to the outfits. Sometimes seeing what people took away from his songs is a little upsetting. Listening to you talk about what you like about his songwriting style is a different kind of upsetting, the kind where he wants to believe it and knows he shouldn’t. “What’s your favorite?”

“Meet Me in the Woods,” you say without missing a beat. “I was kind of sad you all didn’t play it.”

“We need a female vocalist,” Tomura says. “We rented one for recording it, but Toga doesn’t sing, and Magne wouldn’t do it even when Twice dared her to. And Dabi said his balls shrink every time he puts his falsetto up that high.”

You laugh at that. Tomura likes what it sounds like. “Spinner says the song gives him the creeps,” he adds. “I sang lead in the studio.”

“You should sing lead for that one,” you say. “And find a female vocalist.”

Tomura shrugs. “Job’s open if you want it.”

Your face flushes instantly. “I bet you know better jokes than that.”

“Can you sing?” Tomura asks. You look away in a hurry, the flush deepening. Now you look like a Spinner fan again, but you’re not saying no, either. Now Tomura’s interested. He gets to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

Tomura holds out a hand to help you up, and after a long second, you take it. “Let’s go.”

Tomura doesn’t let go of your hand, and you don’t pull away. It’s not until Tomura leads you back out onto the stage in an auditorium that’s now lit only by a ghostlight that you put the brakes on. “No.”

“There’s nobody in here but me,” Tomura says. “You said it’s your favorite song. Try it.”

“Would you try it, if you were me?” Your hand is shaking a little bit. “Faceplanting in front of my favorite songwriter was not on my agenda for this evening.”

“I’ll sing, too,” Tomura says. “I could always faceplant in front of my biggest fan.”

Maybe that was a dumb thing to say. Maybe you don’t want to be Tomura’s biggest fan. He waits for you to protest. Instead, you take a deep breath. “Start singing, then.”

The first verse is Tomura’s, and his joke about faceplanting in front of you gets a little too real in a heartbeat. There’s something weird about singing in front of just one person, someone he can’t see even though you’re right next to him. It’s a relief when you join him on the tag at the end of the verse, even if you’re quiet. And Tomura was right – you can sing, at least enough to harmonize, and to match his tone so your voice doesn’t clash with his. The real test will be the chorus, if you can keep pace with Tomura there.

And you can. Tomura knew you could, but he’s surprised by how good it sounds. By the last line of the chorus, you’re confident enough to screw around a bit, putting a turn on the last three notes of the third line instead of hitting them straight. Tomura’s not projecting his voice all that hard, and neither are you, but the auditorium’s empty. There’s nothing for your voices to hit that will deaden the sound, and the acoustics bounce it back in an echo that sends chills down Tomura’s spine.

When the echo fades, it’s silent. Next to Tomura, you shiver. “Maybe this was a bad place to sing this song.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Tomura will admit the line about the endless night hit a little harder than it was supposed to. “Tomorrow night, try not to stare into the lights.”

“I told you not to joke.”

“I don’t joke about stuff like this,” Tomura says. Now you’re reminding him of Spinner, who took way too much convincing before he’d believe that Tomura not only wanted him in the band, but wanted him to sing lead. “I told you. The job’s yours if you want it. Do you want it?”

It’s quiet for a second. “Where’s your next show?”

“A couple hours from here. Are you worried about your job or something?”

“No,” you say slowly. “Tonight was the last night of a business trip. I’m remote most of the time.”

“So you can work anywhere as long as you have internet access,” Tomura says. He hears you make some kind of distressed noise. “It’s your favorite song. I’ll put it in the set list and I’ll sing lead. You just have to sing it with me. Are you in?”

“This isn’t why I came here,” you say. “I just wanted to meet you and talk about your songs. I wasn’t trying to, like – get on the bus or something.”

“That would be a hell of a long con,” Tomura says. “I don’t think you’d go for that. Too many moving parts.”

“Yeah.” You make that distressed noise again. It’s sort of cute. “Is there a reason we’re still holding hands?”

“Yeah. It’s dark in here and I didn’t want you to fall of the side of the stage.” Tomura starts back towards the wings, pulling you along with him and trying to get his stupid grin under control before he steps back into the light. “Look at it this way. Even if you faceplant tomorrow night, it’ll be something to write about.”

“Are you going to write about this?” you challenge. “You never told me if you feel like your songs are about you.”

Tomura doesn’t, usually. He writes about characters for a reason. Most of the things that happen to him aren’t worth writing about. You, though – you fought through the mosh pit to give him your request, and then you came to find him after the show, and you like him as a lead singer and you can sing and you sound damn good singing with him. And you’re still holding his hand. Most of the things that happen to Tomura aren’t worth writing about. He met you half an hour ago and you already are.

You don’t try to let go of his hand, and you don’t hit the brakes again until you’re just outside the meet-and-greet room. “I want to know,” you say. The shellshocked look you had on when you got back into the light has faded. Now you just look pretty and stressed, and like you’re not going to take no for an answer. Tomura likes that. “Are your songs about you?”

“This one will be,” Tomura says, and he pulls you into the room to meet the rest of the band.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Metal Band AU

Because its been rotting my brain :^)

Soap, drums/vocals shares lead vocals equally, how this man can drum and sing at the same time is beyond anyone else. Never wears a shirt.  He and Gaz banter back and forth on stage a bit. Managed to break his sticks every other show. Dumps bottles of water on himself mid-show to cool off (you can literally see the steam coming off of him). Surprisingly does most of the lyrical writing for the group.  He always does the little thank you speech and introduces everyone at the end. Jumps onto Ghost's back every time they leave stage. The larger man carries him dutifully. 

Gaz, rhythm guitar/ lead vocals. Can't stop moving around stage. Bouncing between the others. Is grinning the entire time. Fucks with Price and Ghost during their solos, flirtatiously leans on them, rubs their chest, hugs a leg dreamily.  Chatty, loves to start a pit. Mostly just throws in genuine “Thank yous’” between every song. Playfully shoos away Ghost away from his center stage like a little brat after Ghost’s solo. Plays the piano for the trademark ballad. Flirts with the crowd while on stage. 

Price, Bass/backing vocals. Sickening in how well he plays, not super energetic on stage, most of its pacing and occasionally propping a leg up on a speaker. Rarely talks, but does play a bit with the crowd. Pointing, giving cheeky winks or blowing kisses. Wanders over to Gaz mostly, giving him a playful kick or nudge. Smiling warmly. Will climb down himself to pass off his pick to a lovely fan. He is dressed wildly different than that overall vibe of the band. Usually a flannel and beanie. 

Ghost, lead guitar. Absolutely shreds. Where’s the same exact outfit every time. Keeps the balaclava and hood up the entire show. All the fans have the hots for him bc of it.  No one knows how the hood stays with all the headbanging. (it’s velcro)  Semi-frightening on stage. Never speaks. Unphased by Gaz wallowing on him. He and Price move around each other with grace. Fans have noticed that he's the most playful with Soap. They do a bit where they trade places during certain songs. Ghost pretends to be exasperated with the shorter scott trying to steal his guitar. (They actually do pretty well on the others instrument). Occasionally he’ll chunk his extra picks at Price from across stage to fuck with him.

[your-girl-nina]

Jegulus is the most pathetic ship I've ever seen, and it honestly makes me cringe. James and Regulus? Please. They have zero chemistry, and it's clear the only reason people ship them is to watch two emotionless guys who can't even hold a conversation pretend they’re in love. And the girls who write this garbage? Get a grip. Do you really think anyone cares about your fantasy of two dudes who wouldn’t even give each other the time of day? Maybe it's time to step away from your fanfics and get a reality check. Find a better hobby than projecting your bland, unrealistic fantasies onto characters who deserve so much better.

Congratulations on being the first hater to stump me while thinking about how to reply. 🎉🥳👏

On today's episode of "will this scare the haters away" we have this beautiful piece of shit that thinks the girls are ruining the fandom. 😱shocker! How nice of you🤍. So i of course had to thank your generous message by writing smut specifically tailored to your desires. Keep sending me ideas please, i really appreciate it. Enjoy!! 🥰😘

James sat behind his drum set, sweat trickling down the side of his face as he pounded out a rhythm. The rehearsal studio was hot and stuffy, the air conditioning on the fritz again. But that wasn't what had him all worked up.

Across from him, Regulus plucked at the strings of his bass with a focus that James found all too distracting. His dark hair hung in his eyes as he leaned forward, and James couldn't help but watch the way his fingers moved over the instrument. It was mesmerizing.

"James, c'mon man, keep it together," Sirius called out from where he was strumming his guitar on the other side of the room. "We've got to nail this song before tonight's show."

James tore his gaze away from Regulus and refocused on his drums. He tried to block out everything else and concentrated on hitting each beat with precision.

As they played through their setlist, James found himself stealing glances at Regulus whenever he could get away with it without messing up. He wasn't sure if it was just him, but there seemed to be some sort of tension in the air whenever they were near each other.

It wasn't like they talked much outside of band-related things. In fact, their interactions were mostly limited to nods and brief discussions about music or upcoming shows. But lately, it felt like there was something more between them—something unspoken.

Finishing up their rehearsal, they took a much-needed break before getting ready for their gig that night. James grabbed a bottle of water and collapsed onto one of the worn-out couches in the corner of the room.

Marlene plopped down next to him with a grin. "You guys sounded great today," she said, taking a swig from her own water bottle. "I think this show is going to be amazing."

James smiled at her comment. Marlene was always so supportive, and it meant a lot to him. "Thanks, Marly. I hope you're right."

She nudged his shoulder playfully. "Of course I am. Plus, you and Regulus have been extra... intense lately. The crowd is going to eat it up."

James frowned in confusion. "Intense? What do you mean?"

Marlene rolled her eyes at his obliviousness. "I mean the sexual tension between you two could cut through steel."

James sputtered, nearly spitting out his water. "What? No way! We're just... focused on the music, that's all."

Marlene raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief, and he could tell she wasn't buying it.

"Okay, maybe there's a little bit of tension," he admitted with a blush.

"A little bit?" Marlene laughed. "Trust me, Jamesie-boy, the fangirls have noticed too. There are whole fanpages dedicated to your 'forbidden love' or whatever they're calling it these days."

"What? Are you serious?" James asked, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity.

"Deadly serious," Marlene replied with a smirk. "In fact, I may have stumbled across some smut about you two on a fan fiction website."

James's eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't believe that people were writing explicit stories about him and Regulus.

"Wait, really? Can I see it?" he blurted out before he could think better of it.

Marlene chuckled and pulled out her phone from her pocket. She quickly navigated to the website and sent the link to James before leaving the mostly empty studio.

Scrolling through the page, he couldn't help but feel both mortified and aroused by what he was reading. The descriptions were so vivid and detailed—painting a picture of what it would be like if they actually acted on all that pent-up tension.

He was so engrossed in the story that he didn't notice Regulus walking over until he cleared his throat awkwardly. James looked up, his face flaming with embarrassment.

"Uh, hey," he mumbled, not sure what to say. How do you explain that you were reading smut about yourself and your bandmate?

Regulus just raised an eyebrow at him, his expression unreadable. "Enjoying the fanfiction, are you?"

James scrambled for an excuse. "I, uh... Marlene showed it to me. As a joke."

Regulus's lips quirked up into a small smile. "Right."

They stood there in an awkward silence for a moment before Regulus spoke again.

"I mean, if you're into that sort of thing... maybe we could make it a reality."

James's eyes went wide at his words. Was Regulus really suggesting what he thought he was? Or was this some sort of cruel joke?

Before he could say anything, Regulus stepped closer and trailed a finger lightly down the side of James's neck.

"I've noticed the way you look at me when we're onstage," he said softly, his gray eyes filled with heat. "And I can't deny that there's something between us—something that needs to be explored."

The air around them crackled with electricity as James processed his words.

"Do you want this?" Regulus asked, his voice low and rough with desire.

"Yes," James breathed out without hesitation.

That was all the confirmation Regulus needed before he crashed their lips together in a searing kiss. It was everything James had imagined and more—hot and demanding as their hands roamed over each other's bodies.

Pushing him back against one of the soundproofed walls, Regulus attacked James's neck with bites and kisses that left him shuddering with pleasure.

"Fuck, Reg," he moaned as Regulus ground his hips against him. He could feel how hard they both were, and it was driving him insane with need.

Regulus's hands fumbled with the button on James's jeans, quickly pulling them down along with his boxers. His eyes darkened with lust as he took in James's naked form.

"God, you're even more beautiful than I imagined," he said, his voice filled with a mix of awe and desire.

James would have blushed at the compliment if not for the way Regulus's mouth wrapped around his cock at that very moment. His head fell back against the wall as waves of pleasure coursed through him.

Regulus bobbed his head up and down, taking him in deeper with each stroke. His tongue swirled around the tip before sucking hard, and James knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Reg... I'm gonna..." he warned, but it was already too late. He came hard down Regulus's throat with a cry of ecstasy.

Regulus licked him clean before standing up and capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. James could taste himself on Regulus's tongue, and it only made him want more.

He reached between them and palmed Regulus through his jeans, feeling just how desperate he was for release.

"Let me touch you," James whispered against his lips, needing to feel every inch of him.

Regulus nodded eagerly and stepped back to let James undress him. As soon as he was naked, James took a moment to admire the sight before him—muscles toned from hours of playing music, pale skin that practically glowed in the dim light, and a thick cock that was dripping pre-come at the tip.

Unable to resist any longer, James wrapped a hand around Regulus's length and stroked slowly from base to tip. He was rewarded with a low groan that sent shivers down his spine.

Moving closer, James kissed and licked a trail down Regulus's chest, swirling his tongue around each hardened nipple before dropping to his knees. He could smell how aroused Regulus was, and it only made him crave him more.

Taking him in his hand once again, James ran his tongue along the slit at the top. Regulus's hips bucked forward at the sensation, urging him to take more.

Opening his mouth, James took as much of Regulus as he could, hollowing out his cheeks as he bobbed his head up and down. His moans filled the air around them, spurring James on to go faster.

Regulus's fingers threaded through James's hair, holding him in place as he fucked into his mouth with abandon. The wet sounds of their combined arousal filled the room, driving them both closer to the edge.

"James... I'm gonna..." Regulus gasped out brokenly, but before he could finish, James felt the salty taste of come exploding onto his tongue. He swallowed every drop as Regulus rode out his orgasm with a series of curse words and aftershocks.

They stayed like that for a moment—breathing heavily as they came down from their highs—before James stood up and pulled Regulus into a passionate kiss that left them both dizzy with want.

"I need to be inside you," Regulus said against his lips, his voice rough with need.

James nodded eagerly and reached for one of the discarded backpacks on the floor. He dug through it until he found what he was looking for—a small bottle of lube that Remus had insisted they keep on hand just in case.

Handing it over to Regulus, James watched with anticipation as he slicked up his fingers and circled one around James's entrance. It felt so good that he couldn't help but push back against it, silently begging for more.

Regulus took the hint and added another finger, scissoring them open to prepare him. The stretch burned slightly, but it was a good kind of pain that had James practically dripping with anticipation.

Once he deemed James ready, Regulus coated his cock with lube and positioned himself at his entrance. He looked up into James's eyes for permission, and when he nodded, he slowly pushed in.

They both gasped at the sensation—feeling so right in a way that James never could have imagined. It was a perfect fit as Regulus filled him up completely with each thrust.

As they found a rhythm together, their moans mingled in the air around them. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and their heavy breathing as they moved as one.

James reached down to stroke his own cock in time with Regulus's thrusts, needing that extra bit of stimulation to send him over the edge. His fingers danced across his sensitive tip, driving himself closer and closer to release.

Regulus's hips snapped forward with each thrust, hitting that sweet spot deep within James that had him seeing stars. He was so close—so fucking close—and he could tell by the way Regulus's grip tightened on his hip that he was too.

"Come for me," Regulus growled out, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to feel you come apart beneath me."

The words sent shivers down James's spine as he gave himself over to the pleasure coursing through him. His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave—spilling over until all he could see and feel was Regulus—the man who made him feel more alive than anyone else ever had or ever would.

With a final thrust, Regulus followed suit—coming hard inside of James as waves of ecstasy washed over him. He collapsed forward, their bodies pressed together in a tangle of sweaty limbs and racing hearts.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity—coming down from their highs and basking in the afterglow of their newfound connection.

Eventually, Regulus pulled out and they cleaned up as best they could with the limited supplies they had. There was so much James wanted to say—to ask—but he wasn't sure where to even begin.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. As he started to get dressed again, Regulus grabbed his hand and pulled him into a bone-melting kiss that said everything that needed to be said.

When they finally broke apart, James couldn't help but smile. They still had a show to do that night—and who knew what would happen afterwards—but for now, he was content just being here with Regulus in this moment. And somehow, he had a feeling it was only the beginning.

[tokiwarcube]

I always wondered what the boys would think if their s/o was in a band (the genre is up to you) and they have the same position in the band as the boys. This has been a thought that won’t leave me alone, help me!!

P.s I love your writings for these 5 silly men !! :)

Aww, thank you so much!! I absolutely fell in love with this prompt -- and I had an absolute blast writing it! Now I will Also be thinking about this forever, haha. Enjoy! <3

(Implied NS/FW warning for Pickles' section!)

Nathan Explosion

My simple, multi-platinum krillionaire rockstar — for as much as he daydreams about what life would have been like if he got to live like a regular jack-off, it’s just not the path for him. So dating another famous lead vocalist? Right up his alley.

He actually likes it more than he thought — it’s nice to bounce lyrics off of you, and vice versa. Toying with pitch, cadence, and intonation, all the different vocal techniques without judgement of sounding silly… Your halls are always alive with the sound of music… even if the subject is about death and murder, it’s its own form of magic.

But singing at home and singing in concert are two very, very different beasts. He wasn’t prepared for how intense you could be on stage, with the band to back you up. Your confidence as you stride, growling so mean he can feel it in his blood before perking back up to bounce away? All of your little stunts? Half of him is taking notes for their next show, and half of him is utterly starstruck. Your eyes dart over to him every now and again, smiling when you notice his wide eyes. His breath hitches when you throw a little wave to him in response, and he can’t help the breathless “holy shit” that falls from his lips.

You’re not as popular as Dethklok, but you couldn’t tell that from inside the venue walls — with how easily you command the crowd, he’s certain you were a siren in a past life. Or now. You could tell everyone in this room to jump off a bridge, and they would, he’s certain of it.

That would make a good song, actually…

Pickles the Drummer

Pickles has a pretty sizable repertoire of instrument proficiency — bass, guitar, keys… a brief stint with an alto sax, as a bit… and currently, drums. He’s got a soft spot in his heart for all of it, each instrument representing a specific era of his life, but he’s found himself enjoying the drums the most. It’s strong, supportive — every song needs a beat! It takes a specific personality to play drums well, and it’s one that he both embodies within himself, and covets when in others.

This is all to say — he finds it very hot that you play drums.

And as a man who appreciates a nice set of legs, he very much likes the effects drumming has on your calves. Your calves might be sore after a long practice session, but that’s nothing compared to the bites he’ll leave later in the night.

He also loves to watch you play — sweat rolling down the column of your throat as you raise your hands above your head for another well-timed strike, lost in the rhythm… Woof.

You’ve kind of gotta beat him back with a stick while on tour if you ever want to go out for drinks after a show — if he had it his way, he’d be spending the post-concert glow in the hotel, letting you know just how much he liked your performance.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Anyone looking in would assume this would be a point of competition, but he actually really loves having someone he can talk technical with! Despite being in Dethklok, he doesn’t really get to talk guitar often — Toki, Murderface, and Pickles can play, sure, but the former two don’t give a fuck about technique, and Pickles just doesn’t care about it enough to chat about it outside of the studio.

He loves hearing about all of the little musical decisions you’ve contributed to in each song — don’t think he didn’t catch the time signature change there. Just a single bar, why? Or this section here, that was a reprise of the first song in the album — how are they connected? He catches all the little details, and he wants to know all about them. In this same vein, he’s also great to bounce ideas off of when you’re in a rut… but be careful! His ideas are damn-good, and at this rate, he might just need a spot in the writer’s credits.

It’s very fun to just sit down and jam with him, passing the melody back and forth as your improvised tune grows. He calls it practice — and in a sense, it is — but really, he just likes playing with you.

He pushes to have your tours alternate with Dethklok’s so he can be at all of your shows, and vice versa — you have his full attention during your solos, and he’s not above slapping the boys to get them to shuts up so he can hear you in all of your glory.

He’s pretty stationary on stage — such is the downside of working with a bunch of uncoordinated dumbasses. (He is not exempt from this.) But if you have the agility and focus to bounce around on stage while playing? Oh, he didn’t think he could fall in love any further. He didn’t think he was capable of being starstruck, but you’ve proven him wrong tenfold. He’ll happily brave a couple thousand rabid fans for the pit experience — sorry to all the people stuck behind his towering self, but being backstage is nothing compared to barrier. The flashing lights, choking fog and towering flames only make you look more beautiful than ever, and he can’t help but reach out to you when you waggle your fingers at the crowd.

Personally offended if you don’t throw him at least one pick on tour. He does not care that he is 1.) Dating you, and 2.) Has limitless access to your stash. It’s the principle.

You wear each other’s picks on necklaces <3

Toki Wartooth

You play rhythm too? Wowee! You’re so good, though — how are you not playing solos?

He is completely gobsmacked by the fact that not only are you not the lead guitarist, but that you don’t care to be, either. I mean, he has Skwisgaar to compete against — and as loathe as he is to say it, it’s a pretty fucking high bar to surpass. But you? You could easily play lead! You just don’t want to? What?

He doesn’t really get it, but he writes it off as just you being humble. Beyond that, your similarity doesn’t really play too big of a role in your shared lives! But when concert season rolls around, he’s insistent about hanging out at barrier, just so he can see what it’s like to be at one of your shows. And then, then, that’s when he gets it.

You never seem to stand still, bouncing this way and that, playing in ways he never even thought possible. You don’t need to play solos to wow the crowd — hell, he’s been practically raised by the most popular band in the world, but with you in front of him now, he feels like just another one of your adoring fans itching at the chance to even be seen. Nobody cheers louder than Toki, and he’s insistent on going to each and every one of your shows.

After show from here on out he’ll interlock hands with you, congratulating you on yet another show well-done. He traces the callouses on your fingertips, heart swelling with giddiness at dating such a badass guitarist.

William Murderface

Finally, someone else who appreciates a good bass line. A band is nothing without the bass, especially metal, and it’s nice to talk to someone else who understands that. Especially after being AJFA’d out off all their most recent albums.

Playing bass is a very thankless job — you have to support the entire band, giving them structure and direction without any of the thanks that the rhythm guitar or the drums get. The most, and I mean the most that he gets, is a solo at the end of the show. Which is fun, but you know… it’s very much a job that you take because you love the big picture, not the details.

That’s his point of view, anyways. Because the second he sees you in-show, his whole world gets flipped on his head.

You have a very confident poise on stage — unshakeable, much like the deep notes that you pluck from the instrument. And yet, you command attention from the crowd effortlessly. It’s like you were made for this — all long strides and sneaky smiles as you move around on stage. And despite the eccentricity of your fellow bandmates — a very energetic show, he’s noticed — you still draw a sizable amount of attention from the packed arena, and man does he wish he was in the pit right now so he could get that sly little smile head-on. And huh, maybe bass can be fun, after all.

He loves to brag about you, and will do so at any opportunity.

After seeing your prowess on stage, he starts practicing a bit outside of concert season… and then more, and more, until he finally feels ready enough to fight to get the bass turned up in the next Dethalbum. Thanksch, babe.

[sen-ya]

BAND AU??

Man you're going to make me freak out fr

Well now the Big question, what kind of music they play? I see las into rock maybe metal and that edgy music, but i don't really think on luffy liking it, as someone obsesed with instruments i love the dinamic of bass and singer, since the bass Is low and the voice Is loud

Also who else play? It would be cool to kid to play the guitar to be like the worst trio but since he has a Big hand, and no 2nd hand (lol) he probably would play drums i Guess (?) Or maybe another straw hat?

i saw another band au so that's what i'm using as reference but Is kidlaw and i don't know If you would like it, anyway i love both of the au (i don't have deep thinks about the ships i see them dying alone lol they are so ugly (i love them))

AHHHH HI HELLO I CAN FINALLY ANSWER THIS.

I think the fic answers the kind of music they play, Polar Tang is mostly rock and Thousand Sunny is mostly pop! Law on the bass will own me forever.

They each have their own band, Polar Tang is Law on bass & lead vocals, Shachi on guitar & backup vocals, Bepo on drums, peng on keyboard/misc. thousand sunny loof sings, Usopp on drums, zoro on guitar, sanji on keyboard/etc!! But other straw hats play too, robin and Franky are a duo and open for them often. Usopp is the main lyricist with loof giving ideas and themes he wants to sing about. Both of them are credited for writing most of their songs, cuz Usopp almost always is writing based off things exploded from luffy’s ideas and feedback. Law writes 100% of polar tang’s songs, writing is the reason he got into music.

You could probably gather from the fic but polar tang is mostly Mariana’s trench & matchbox 20 with a sprinkle of blue October

Thousand sunny points of ref (from my end, @blackyote we never boiled it down as specifically w them as we did w polar tang I think lol) are metro station, naethan Apollo, hot chelle rae, Ian McConnell

‘Hating stuff’ by Ian McConnell is the one song loof wrote fully on his own in early days of thousand sunny. Later he’s credited as the writer for the polar tang song ‘hell, at least” (irl by ghost daughter) which he wrote by himself as a song specifically for law to perform

ok I will shut up for now 🙈

[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!!!

[syringesyrup]

Swissdew first kiss? Idk if you’ve written that before or not buuuuuuuttttttt hey?

don’t ever ask me for swissdew ever again i’m crazier than all of you

warning for uh. suggestive shit i guesssss idk Old Men Ghoul Yaoi.

A lot of crazy shit happens in Dewdrop’s life.

Being pulled from the pits of Hell, playing in some Earth band because apparently it’s what the man downstairs wants, having his entire biology changed and set aflame. See? Crazy shit.

And he takes it. He takes all of it. Each hammer to his side, each beat down. He somehow always manages to get back up at the end of it all, no matter how much it fucking sucks.

What he can’t seem to take is the living and breathing pain in his ass that is the new ghoul. A multi ghoul, because that’s a thing that exists, who has not shut his mouth since he crawled out of the summoning circle that was not meant for him. The Clergy found use of him, of course, no matter how hesitant the Cardinal was at the sight of a ghoul who was far too powerful. The question was if it was even safe to have a ghoul with such unstable magic be in front of humans. Not that taking risks was something they didn’t do.

The worst part? The most excruciating and aggravating part of it all?

Dewdrop likes him. He can’t get enough of him.

He’s insanely funny. He’s always clever with his jokes, crafting them so quickly and ensuring a laugh from everyone in the room. His confidence with each jest only makes him funnier. He even gets Sister Imperator to laugh. What a rare sight. It pisses him off when all his little comments make Dew crack a smile. He has to turn his head away each time, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him smile at such a dumb joke.

Not to mention his talent. For some reason, he just knows how to play every single instrument that is thrown at him. He nearly beat Mountain’s drums to death on his first week. His voice, gravelly and angelic, makes Dew’s heart falter each time he sings so beautifully into a mic or just casually. His fingers are careful, playing each note on a guitar perfectly. It drives Dew up the wall with how good he is at it. How skilled his fingers are. Dew grows curious with that realization. He thinks about it a lot. More than he should.

And he’s so, so fucking hot.

His arms drive Dew nuts. Thick and strong enough to do all the things Dew would ask of him. His shoulders, his fucking shoulders. Broad and built to handle the weight of a guitar for hours. His chest doesn’t help Dew get much sleep at night either. It’s unnecessarily bold and melts down into the pudge of his stomach. Sue him, but Dew has a thing for tummies. A place where he can bury his face and fall fast asleep against the warmth. He wonders if Swiss’ stomach holds a heat, like a fire ghoul pillow. The thought of it makes Dew purr and get red in the face. And, oh Lucifer, his ass. It’s nothing like what Rain has packing, but it’s enough to make Dew stare long enough that Swiss has definitely caught him. Dew has stared at what he has packing in the front, too. He’s seen the way Swiss’ pants hug him tightly up there. It makes Dew’s mouth water, the thought of him between Swiss’ legs just sucking greedily on his-

“Earth to Dewdrop. Are you reading me?”

Dew jolts up. He doesn’t even remember where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. He takes a step back and blinks, registering the rest of his bandmates staring at him. Right. Practice.

“There you are.” Copia smiles. “Everything okay?” He’s far too kind for Dew’s liking. It almost seems malicious.

Dew nods’ gripping his guitar and strumming a bit. “Sorry. Where are we?”

“Just starting Con Clavi.” Copia says, fumbling with the microphone in his gloved hand. “Rain was just about to start for us.”

Dew nods. “Right. Okay.”

Copia stares for a moment longer, worry in his eyes before he turns to Rain and gestures vaguely. The water ghoul nods before adjusting his shoulders and beginning to strum on his bass. Dew misses when it was his turn to play this song. When it was his song.

He lets his eyes flicker a bit too far, landing on Swiss.

He’s smiling at Dew.

No, he’s grinning. He adjusts his guitar in front of him, reeling up to push his hips into it. Dew swallows hard, watching as the multi ghoul grinds into his guitar with a dark haze in his eyes that just won’t leave Dew’s own.

When Swiss flicks his tongue out of his mouth and licks at his fang, Dew has to look away before he forgets how to even play guitar.

.

“Distracted today?” Swiss asks him as they all file out of the practice room. “Feeling okay?”

“Fine.” Dew mumbles, attempting to weave his way through the crowd of ghouls and away from Swiss before he loses his composure. He almost makes his way in front of Cirrus before a large hand wraps around his wrist, holding him back.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Swiss laughs. “What’s the rush?”

“I have…things to do.” Dew lies through his teeth. He’s trying not to lose his mind due to the realization that Swiss’ entire hand wraps around Dew’s wrist so easily. His fingers are touching his palm. His stupid big ass hands that Dew wants inside of him-

“Hopefully things means sleep. You look sick, spitfire.” Swiss observes, leaning down to get a better look at Dew’s red face. “Can fire ghouls get fevers?”

“I’m fine.” Dew grumbles, pushing himself away from Swiss. The rest of the band has already turned the corner, leaving the two of them alone at the end of the hall. “Stop touching me.”

“Sorry.” Swiss frowns, retracting away from Dew. “Seriously. Get some rest.” Swiss says before stepping around Dew.

He’s free. He’s finally free from how close Swiss just was. He’s free from what could have been a disaster. He almost wants to smile at the relief he feels. He takes in a deep breath, and wow, he can breathe.

He’s a fool. No, he’s a fucking idiot. When does he ever catch a break.

Swiss’ hand collides with his ass, a meaningless gesture. Dew clearly does not expect it or else he would have stopped himself from moaning at it.

It gets deafeningly quiet after that.

Dew’s hands slap over his mouth and he leans down, eyes wide as he stares at the floor. Anywhere that isn’t Swiss’ face. He watches the multi stop dead in his tracks and slowly turn, staring down at Dew with impossibly wide eyes.

Dew wants to die.

“No way.” Swiss says. “No fucking way.”

“Sh-shut up. Please, shut up.” Dew mumbles, taking a step back to escape. Futile. Swiss is already grabbing his wrists and rendering him useless. Dew bites the inside of his cheek as he watches his large hands hold him still. Dew wants more. He wants his hands everywhere. On him, inside of him. Just everywhere.

“Dewdrop, what was that?” Swiss asks, and Dew can fucking hear the smile in his voice. Dew shakes his head as he continues to look down. He’s in so much trouble if he looks Swiss in the eyes right now.

“Dewww.” Swiss coos, his voice laced with venom. “What was that?”

“You scared me.” Dew tries. “I was startled. Shut up.”

“Uh-huh.” Swiss grins. “I’m sure.”

“Let me go.” Dew whispers. He can feel his body heat rising. This is far too dangerous for the both of them.

“Oh, I don’t think you want me to.” Swiss says. Dew, who didn’t think he could possibly embarrass himself any further, whines at Swiss’ words. He hears Swiss’ breath hitch at it, surprising the both of them.

“I stand corrected.” Swiss laughs. “I knew it.”

Then, Dew makes the worst mistake of all time.

He looks at Swiss.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s so much better up close. Dew can see the way his pupils flex in his eyes as he studies Dew. The way his freckles dust across his face like stars. The curl of his hair and his beard, curling up at the base of his curved horns. The light that sparkles off of his piercings. Dew looks at his lip ring and swallows hard. He wonders how that would feel. Swiss opens his mouth to laugh and Dew stares at the black ball on his tongue. Oh, now that. That must feel good.

“I knew you wanted me.” Swiss grins. “I could fucking smell it on you, ya know? Cinnamon works well for you.”

Dew swallows again despite how dry his throat is right now. He parts his lips, stuttering as he tries to find the words he knows his brain possesses. Swiss laughs lowly as he watches Dew struggle.

“C’mon. Use your words, sweetheart.” Swiss coos, making Dew’s knees feel like they’re not there anymore. He reaches up slowly, gripping at the loops of Swiss’ belt tightly and tugging.

“Trying.” Dew mumbles, slipping his eyes shut as he breathes shakily. “I’m trying.”

“You got it.” Swiss soothes, moving a hand up to rest on the back of Dew’s neck. The spikes there instinctively perk up to no avail. Swiss holds them down, safe from any damage they may cause.

Dew shakes his head. He can’t do this. This is stupid. This is horrible and cliché and he can’t think-

“Please.” Is all Dew can muster. It’s the only word he can even remember right now. Well. Besides the multi ghoul’s name. His knees finally buckle when Swiss pushes on the back of his neck, craning his head up as Swiss moves in.

“Again.” Swiss whispers, just an inch from his face. “I want you to mean it.”

“Please, please, please.” Dew begs, holding onto Swiss like it’s the only thing he knows how to do. Swiss growls, actually fucking growls, before yanking Dew up and smashing their lips together.

Dew moans into his mouth, hot with need and cries of please and Swiss with each small part of their lips. Swiss wastes no time with it either, already pushing his tongue in and pressing the black metal ball against Dew’s own. It makes Dew choke for a moment before he bathes in it. Bathes in the way Swiss tastes like hot smoke and candy, the little strawberry wrapped ones that he was given by Copia when his newly summoned tastebuds were ablaze.

Swiss hooks an arm around his waist, pushing him back against a door as he fumbles to open it. They fall back into it, stumbling into the closet before Swiss kicks the door shut behind them. Dew hears supplies clatter behind him as Swiss pushes him against the shelf, his hands digging under Dew’s shirt as he moves up to grab at his chest. Dew winces when he hooks a claw through one of the rings on his nipple and tugs slightly. Swiss hums, smiling down at Dew in the limited lighting of the closet.

“You like that, huh?” Swiss grins. Dew nods, lips parted as he pants a ‘uh-huh’. His hair is a mess now, his bun slowly coming loose from having his head rubbed against the wall. Swiss smiles at him before slowly leaning closer, his lips ghosting over Dew’s neck. Dew shudders, his hands gripping at Swiss’ arms as he feels Swiss smile against his neck. Dew can’t help the noise that escapes him when Swiss runs his tongue across Dew’s skin, his fangs poking slightly into the sensitive skin there. Swiss smiles against his skin again, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest before he moves his hand down to undo his belt. The sound of it makes Dew buck his hips up, grinding on Swiss’ thigh that has found its way in between Dew’s legs. Swiss only laughs as he moves up to growl in Dew’s ear, leaving the fire ghoul shaking.

“Let’s see what else you like.”

[woahajimes]

whoa

role reversal

[stawpny]

hot take: New York can play the guitar

I feel we’ve assessed this and have understood that he seems like the typa guy to play the electric guitar

unless it’s js me

-he plays songs with the midwestern states (like for the midwestern “emo” type songs [ex: front bottoms]) if they need a guitarist (Illinois also is one too)

-California forces him to play songs from the RHCP’s albums. The songs he makes him play mostly are: Californication, Can’t Stop, By The Way, Otherside, and many others. Because the RHCP’s originated in CA, he knows every. single. song and forces NY to learn it (with love, ofc). As an example, Aeroplane, Bicycle Song and Quixoticelixer. (All bangers, listen to them 🙏) Cal will sing the song that NY plays.

-The northeast had their own band. Different bands = different lead singers. Some of them are:

Pearl Jam: Massachusetts (literally voice claim. I feel like he js sounds like a toned down version of Eddie Vedder)

Sublime: New York

RHCP’s: New Jersey (if not thim, then CA)

Nirvana: not decided yet, but leaning towards Pennsylvania

The parts of the band:

Drums: Rhode Island

(usually) Lead Singer: Massachusetts

Bass Guitar: Connecticut & Pennsylvania

Electric Guitar: New York & New Jersey

Acoustic Guitar: New York & Massachusetts

(if any) Percussion: New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine

Backing Vocals: usually the guitarists

+ if the song has any other unusual instruments, they just fill in.

as an example, in the song Wrong Way by Sublime, there is a trumpet solo.

I hc NY as a person who plays the trumpet

- Georgia and New York sometimes play together. One song that got me thinking abt it is Creep by the Stone Temple Pilots (not the Radiohead one)

Georgia plays the acoustic guitar and sings for most of the song until the other guitar plays

New York only has the part which says “I’m half the man I used to be”

they’re both in unison for the “take time with a wounded hand…” part

—

silly guys

I’ve had this on my mind for a couple of days (yes, I am flexing my music taste on you/j)

[oatmealmika]

FEM! TRAFALGAR LAW HEADCANONS BECAUSE I LOVE WOMEN

a/n : sometimes i just wish law was actually written as a girl cuz DAMN

first off, CLOTHES SHE'D WEAR!!

i'm getting major streetwear/chola style vibes from fem! law

like i mean ripped up baggy jeans, croptops, hoodies, oversized t-shirts, sports bras, long clickity clackity nails (if she really wanted to but very occasionally), and of course (his? her?) their hat

she got her earrings done when she was too little to remember so it's just annoying to have to redo them every so often

i have no clue who'd do her tattoos since she most definitely wouldn't trust some sketchy guy to do them

maybe herself but i don't think that's it either

and whenever you ask her, she makes up a different story (like that one blond guy in "ratatouille" who has a criminal record)

"woke up with it" "they're stick n pokes" "this guy i knew who would only wear bucket hats" and of course "nunya"

she is half german and half mexican (may or may not be self projection with the mexican part)

i get HUGE ymir from aot vibes with fem! law

she appears rude, hardheaded, and pessimistic, but she really does care about others and does have some hope in her (wishing her crew likes her horrendous hawaiian shirts)

her music taste is rock, rap, indie dream pop (tv girl), and then sad spanish songs that slap way too hard (i'm thinking "no me queda mas" by selena, a bunch of vicente fernandez songs my mom loves to play at full volume, and "amor eterno" by rocio durcal)

def not straight i mean just look at fem! law fanart on tumblr bro like honey... and man, am i glad she isn't straight cuz GODDAMN

if you go out with her, you need to order for her pls she can't do it on her own

but she will take the bill, no excuses

i think the type of person she needs as a partner would have to be okay with silence, they have to be outgoing and fun but mature with intense situations, and yeah

plays the bass guitar and has been for years

also plays the drums but her main instrument is bass

really wants to be in a band but not really since she hates the idea of having to be nice all the time for the public

at a mall, she either hangs out at hot topic, barnes and nobles, or justice the whole time

got a bunch of piercings all over her but that's a secret lol nobody knows...

UNTIL I TELL YOU: bellybutton, industrial, conch, ear lobe, tragus, bridge, middle tongue, hip, nipple, and then a bunch of genital piercings i will not be discussing any further XD

her most used apps are photos, notes, tumblr, pinterest, depop, and....... ao3

OKAY OKAY as hard as it might be to believe this, this is NOT self projection it is TRUTH

she doesn't religiously read fics or anything, just occasional oneshots about her nerdy crap when she's bored or something

my girl out here reading her "sora, warrior of the sea" 10k+ fics 💀

if you take her home to meet the family, at first they'll be thrown off by her intimidating looks, but soon enough they'll realize what a little loser she is! the cutie patootie she is <3

LOVE LOVE LOVES cringy 70s/80s/90s movies (think "grease", "the princess bride", "pretty in pink", "10 things i hate about you", etc.)

she doesn't know why. she hates the dumb stereotypes and all that stuff, but she just can't help it! she's so real for it too

idk why but i feel like she'd LOVE spiderman???? like as an obsession?

she is pretty normal about the live action movies, it's just SPIDERVERSE THAT MAKES HER GO CRAZY

she also wants to be good at art but never has motivation to do it

she def has an upside down smile (that what it's called? i think of it more as a "oh that's cringy look and stare y'all" smile)

is she scrawny? muscular? i can't decide honestly. like yeah guy law has some brawn, but he is still a pretty lanky guy, so that's why i see fem! law as a lanky chick. but i love muscular women... goddamn she is just lanky. she obviously has some meat on her bones, but not much.

that being said, i don't think she's very curvaceous either (let's pretend oda didn't draw her the way he did). she is no doubt an a cup, and while her butt is fairly larger, she's still pretty flat.

she also only ever wears sports bras since she thinks regular bras are uncomfy and a hassle.

for a va to replace masc! law's, i would say for japanese romi park. for english, i'd say either trina nushimura or elizabeth maxwell.

for one piece live action, i would want like zendaya as fem! law 😭 aye anything for queen zendaya

only bepo knows this, but she wears socks and sandals on sundays no fail.

has a tattoo somewhere of bepo's name inside a heart with an arrow through it (think those tattoos that tough guys get, with instead of bepo, "mom" is what's written)

fem! law still wears ugly ass hawaiian shirts, don't get it mixed up ✊

that's all for now :)

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

have a good day!!

[dgaftilwedie]

PLZ TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU LNOW ABT THE GHOULS AND SPECIFICALLY WHICH INDS TO OBSESS IVER

(I’m Negatusing myself and getting second hand love for this band)

EASY PEASY ok so........ im gonna give u a run-down on the current ghouls n my babies aether n sunny MWAAHAHA

EVERYTHING'S BELOW THE CUT BC IT'S GONNA BE LONG AS FOOK

dewdrop (or sodo/sodomizer, depends on who u ask) ^___^

he's the lead guitarist + a fire ghoul (during era 4, he was the bassist + a water ghoul [the position in the band corresponds with the element] which is why his name is dew)

he's one of the bolder ghouls. he's usually on the stage front n center and he's a little bit hotheaded. he's known for making a lot of sexual gestures towards the other ghouls and the audience, like his infamous jerking-off-confetti-thing. he also teases the other ghouls, especially aether when he was still in the band. they used to get in guitar duels and they'd throw picks at each other. he's very soft with rain, contrary to the way he is with everything else. he's very rough when he plays the guitar and there was a concert where he ended up bleeding all over the guitar because of how hard he was playing it. he's also often taking hits of swiss's vape (aka the Ghape). in short, he's an evil, stompy, satanic little SHIT.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

phantom :3

my sweet beautiful shithead......... he's the quintessence ghoul / rhythm guitarist who succeeded aether (he is also my favorite) (next to rain ofc)

certified papa harrasser. he does these super dope (and super hot) tricks with his guitar. there isn't much information on him because he's newer but the fandom has given him the roll of the annoying little brother. some people see him as rain and dew's love child LMFAO he interacts with them the most, especially dew. im talkin getting on his knees for the demon. and i get that!!!!! he's kind of a slut ok............

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

rain <33

HE IS MY FAVORITE FUCKING GHOUL im getting a tattoo of him eventually i have the perfect thigh piece......... ANYWAYS he's the bassist / water ghoul n he's actually the reason i wanna learn how to play the bass..........

in comparison to the other guitsr ghouls, he's a lot more laid-back. but he is not shy........ he may seem it but he fucking flourishes in the spotlight. im begging you to open a new tab, go to youtube, and watch his opening solo for con clavi con dio. anyways :3 just look at him......... my sweet sweet demon........... i love him so much

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

mountain xD

AHHHHHHH he's the drummer / earth ghoul.........

since he's all the way in the back with his drums, he doesn't interact with the crowd too much. he's pretty shy and he NEVER wears shoes when he drums. at least not that i've seen xD he also gives his drumsticks away at the end of every ritual......... personally i headcanon him to be like, the most tranquil ghoul (until he drinks. then he's a menace.) i also feel like he does a lot of nice things for the ghouls but they don't usually notice since he keeps to himself more often than not. also it's very fitting that his name is mountain because he's FUCKING TALL

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

swiss.......

he's a multi-ghoul (hence the name SWISS); he does backup vocals n plays guitar n a couple percusive instruments

if u thought dew was a menace.......... u have NOT met swiss. he's well known for being fucking feral. im talkin dry humping the stage and his guitar. he also does this thing where he violently shimmies his shoulders at papa. he's one of the most social ghouls and he takes every opportunity that he can to come onto stage and interact with the other ghouls AND the crowd. he's a little nuts but in the best fucking way possible..............

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ok now we're moving into ghoulette territory........ starting with my favorite, MAMA CIRRUS ♡___♡

she's one of the two air ghoulettes n she's the lead keyboardist!! she also does the keytar solo in mummy dust and occasionally does backing vocals/percussion

oh my god my cape-wearing wife someone restrain me before i start saying inappropriate things... she's super duper affectionate and jumpy like she has such a cute personality?? she literally SKIPS BACK TO HER SPOT after her solo..... she's so fucking sassy too......... she's so sweet and so beautiful I LOVE HER SO MUCH I CAN'T

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

cumulus MY BELOVEDDDDDD

she's the other air ghoulette n plays keyboard as well as doing backing vocals :33 pls listen to the live version of per aspera ad inferi that's on spotify it is so good.........

she's very affectionate towards the crowd and often waves and blows kisses towards them. she's also CRIMINALLY underrated. why do people not talk about her!!!!!!! she's so fucking precious and she has a beautiful voice WHERE ARE MY CUMMYLUST FANS AT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

aurora!!!

she is so gf it hurts......... also the current multi-ghoulette yippee!!!!!! she plays tambourine, does backing vocals, and she hangs out with swiss...... a lot..........

ok yeah maybe her and swiss have something going on 🙄 (waiting for them to drop the movie i need to see them making out on stage). she's very giddy and she's full of energy all the time. she's also super social n bubbly (N TWIRLY) and often interacts with phantom and the other ghoulettes as well as swiss. she's also like, the shortest in the whole band, she's like 4'11 IT'S SO CUTE THOUGH. she's also the current fill-in for sunny but im crossing my fingers that we'll have 4 ghoulettes instead of just my 3 weed-smoking girlfriends (/ref)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

oki now onto the portion of the post where i rant about the former ghouls from early era 5 </3

aether

he's the former quintessence ghoul / rhythm guitarist and GOD they did him so wrong i miss my banana man 😞

he's most well known for throwing pics at dew :3 he also REALLY liked bananas. he was physically the most beefiest ghoul which is how most people could tell him apart. like look at those arms........ AND HE KEPT HIS FUCKING SLEEVES ROLLED UP he knew what he was doing. im so sad he's not in the band anymore I MISS HIM SO BAD

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

and finally, sunny :')

look at her........ she's the former multi-ghoulette n she played tambourine and did som backing vocals

she's also criminally underrated i feel like no one talks about her....... she's so fucking quirky like she's just so fun and silly and i love watching her onstage. i believe she's coming back actually!!! from my knowledge, she only left temporarily because she's on broadway but she hopefully should be coming back (i hope)

[androcola]

tell me about. davy

Davy grew up in a boating town and he lived very close to the water and when he was a little kid, he'd so and sit by the docs and watch the sailors come in and out :) that's part of what sparked his love for swimming and the ocean in general.

Davy was raised mostly by his grandparents. his father wasn't absent at all, he was just very busy and his mother passed away when he was too young to even remember

Davy had a pretty alright relationship with his father despite this, although it became a little strained when he got older and rock and roll really hit Manchester. his grades started slipping and it's like all he could think of was music

despite davys really good grades, he didn't have the best reputation as he was a hot headed scrapper and was always getting called in by the teachers who just didn't know what to do with him. he was doing well academically and was pretty alright socially, with lots of charm and charisma,but he just had such a temper and a mean right hook

Davy lied to his family to get to America, telling them that he was going abroad for further studies. he was only freshly 18 when he was sent to America with a lump sum of money. he didn't do anything of that. instead, he got an apartment in LA and a job as a waiter. he would go on to meet mike, micky and peter sometime in november.

Davys a CHRONIC baby brother. he was the youngest in his family next to his three older sisters, Susan, Annie and Marianne, and is the youngest monkee, and is often treated so. often being patted on the head and sent on his way, doted upon and played around with like a little doll, with great love, of course, but it frustrates him to no end.

Davy loves cologne! he's always wearing it and he's always buying it! sometimes he'll get colognes as gifts for his birthday or for christmas, usually from micky. mike HATES davys colognes. they give him headaches. he's always telling Davy to Warsh off that stink!! mike being mike.

although Davy didn't know how to play any instruments when he first met the guys , overtime he learns to play the bass, the guitar, and a little bit of drums :) versatility is very required for the band, especially because mike may not always be there and that'll usually cause a switch up

Davy still does tea time even in america:) and he'll invite his friends to join him, usually making them all their different tea of choice. sweet ice tea for mike, green tea or something otherwise herbal for peter, and for micky, he doesn't have a tea of choice, he'll drink whatever, but he got very used to mikes sweet tea so he usually has the same as mike :)

davys a great baker! he was taught to bake by his gramma and he loves to make yummy pastries and pies n muffins n stuff. he likes thanksgiving and other holidays because that's usually an excuse for him to break out his baking skills! his sweets are greatly enjoyed by micky especially. mike doesn't really like sweets, but he'll indulge a little. peter has a gluten intolerance so I'm not sure how that would work for him. idk if there was gluten free stuff back then

[rawrxdinaryheroes]

XDH as 3DG Songs

Gunil: Time of Dying

"I'll wait here for you"

This song is unique in that it switches meter

It goes from 4/4 to 6/4 which I feel like would be fun especially for someone who plays drums!

I also think this song is his style (especially coming from a Muse perspective)

The lyrics are also incredibly introspective and he seems like a very introspective person to me???

Jungsu: Lost In You

"Now everyday, I find myself saying I want to get lost in you"

Jungsu is a professional cutie patootie sweetie pie with frosting on top

This song is INCREDIBLY sweet

I actually cried hearing this song for the first time because of how sweet it is

This has been a comfort song for me which reminds me of Jungsu bc I feel like he has such a warm presence????

Pure fireplace during the wintertime vibe <333

This song played with acoustic guitar and piano, slower tempo, and Jungsu's vocals would be a godsend

Jiseok: Riot

"You're not the only one, so get up. Let's start a riot"

This song is very high energy and encompasses the feeling of starting a riot

Jiseok, our punk president, would ABSOLUTELY SLAY this song

He has a certain chaotic or devious charm to him that I think would totally match the vibe of this song

Especially since this song empowers those who feel weak, angry, or emotionally down

JISEOK WOULD EAT THIS SONG

Seungmin: Painkiller

"'Cause I'm the shoulder you cry on"

Okay so..

This song is preeettttyy heavy lyrics wise (I meann most 3dg songs are but yk my point)

I chose this song because I feel like it would fit Seungmin's musical style

I feel like he would add a few rap verses in the song that would go so hard omg-

This song is also oddly reassuring but in a haunting way and I feel like Seungmin would reallllly portray that super well

Hyeongjun: It's All Over

"When you're on the edge and falling off, it's all over"

THIS SONG has been my latest obsession it's bordering on unhealthy....

This song features a consistent bass and guitar riff that drive the music forward and the tempo isn't quite as fast as the other songs

It also features a very melodic guitar solo that I think Hyeongjun would really pull off super well! (MANS IS SUPER TALENTED)

Overall this song is super subtle and kind of reminds me of a fever dream??

I feel like Hyeongjun would pull off a fever dream type of concept really well????

Jooyeon: I Hate You Everything About You

"I hate everything about you. Why do I love you?"

A Three Days Grace classic~

The verses have very pretty clean vocals and instrumentals only for that to be juxtaposed by a heavier chorus full of gritty vocals and distortion

Jooyeon would actually sing this song so well

I mean we all heard his gritty vocals... Are you seeing ~the vision~

This man puts his whole soul into singing he would actually really eat this up I fear

You guys, this is my first time posting to tumblr... yikes! ANYWHO pls let me know if this was hot garbage, if you agree or disagree with the song choices. What's your favourite Three Days Grace song? How's your day going? I might make more of these little posts bc I have a lot of ideas and nowhere to put them out so pls anticipate more of my antics. Tysm <333

[purpleandsilver]

Your Sleep Token Guide To Telling Who Is Who: A Fan Guide

So nowadays, the eepy bois are sporting masks that make them stand out and make it easier to tell them apart. So, from Wembly (2023) performance forward you can tell the boys a part like this:

Vessel: mouth out, tits out. It's hot boi summer with him all year long

II: do you hear those absolute GOD tier drums? Yeah, that is a god. That's two playing those drums.

III: if this guy got taller and became a metalhead bass player (also his hair is red)

IV: his mask has gold around the mouth, he's also the guitar player. Has no hair showing. Still can't find him? Oh, he's the one everyone likes to drag around and make out with.

But in the past, they didn't have the masks. So when watching past videos remember:

Vessel is the one front and center. He was the only one wearing a white mask. His tits (and mouth) were out in the past too.

II: those drums ain't a recent addition. God Of Drums has been with the band for a while.

III: typically wearing checkered socks. Still does.

IV: for IV, I'd say just the fact that he gets dragged around a lot as his defining features for figuring out who is who in past videos.

Another way to tell them a part is by the instruments they play: Vessel typically handles piano and the mic and also my sanity but let's not get a head of ourselves. II is and always has been drums. III is bass and IV is guitar. I believe IV is also the one that does the additional screaming.

[maxinemaxmayfield]

In Indianapolis, Steve Harrington can explore his sexuality. Can flirt and dance with men, unashamed and unafraid. In Indianapolis, Eddie Munson is free. Free to be a freak, a metalhead, a queer. But Indiana is smaller than either of them knows.

Explicit | 8/8 Chapters | 16.3k words | Complete | Read on ao3

Preview below!

Chapter 1: feeling my way back to you Robin Buckley was Steve Harrington’s introduction into the world of queerness. It didn’t take long at all for him to realise that he wasn’t as straight as he’d always thought he was. 

Which is how he finds himself in Indianapolis one Friday night during the summer of ‘85, smudging eyeliner into his waterline in the car mirror, hair sprayed to the high heavens and navy polish applied painstakingly to his fingertips. 

He’s parked a couple streets away from a bar he’s heard about through the grapevine, a place with people like him. A place where men can dance with men without turning heads and getting the shit kicked out of them. His stomach twists with nerves or excitement – he’s not totally sure. 

Steve switches the light off in his car and fidgets with the t-shirt he’d taken a pair of scissors to, cutting it halfway up his midriff. He’s got on a pair of jeans that are just about too small for him, clinging to every curve and stretched tight across his ass. 

Before he opens the door, he grabs the light blue hanky he’d bought just for this from the passenger seat. He considers it for a moment before firmly tucking it into his right back pocket. He breathes deep and steps out into the chilly night air. 

~ ~ ~

If he thought the place had looked rundown from the outside, it’s nothing compared to the inside. 

It’s dark other than the flash of coloured lights, and smoke hangs heavy in the air. The floor is sticky beneath his shoes, and dark paint is peeling from the walls. 

It’s busy, patrons lining the bar and a heaving mass of bodies in the middle of the floor, dancing to the song blaring out of the speakers, slightly too much bass. Steve doesn’t recognise it.

He heads for the bar, slipping through the crowd, and waits for the bartender to finish up with the group he’s serving. 

An older man leans over from his stool into Steve’s space, smelling of bourbon. He gestures towards Steve’s back pocket, and his face immediately burns hot. 

“Bathroom?”

Oh. Fuck. That was… way faster and more forward than Steve had expected. 

“Oh, uh. Um. No, thanks.” He stumbles over his words, hoping he doesn’t offend the man. But he just shrugs and straightens up, turning back to his drink. 

Steve is grateful when he catches the attention of the bartender and can order a shot of vodka and a beer. He needs something to calm his nerves. 

He scopes out the room, nursing his beer. A lot of the men are quite a bit older than he is, but there are a few guys who look around his age.

The song that’s playing now – Steve recognises this one, Bon Jovi, he thinks – fades out as it comes to an end, but another one doesn’t take its place. Instead, lights come up on the stage he hadn’t noticed tucked away in the far corner of the dance floor. The crowd turns and cheers, and Steve sits up a little straighter, intrigued. 

A few men take to the stage, instruments in hand and a drum set at the back. The lead singer, Steve assumes, steps up to the mic, guitar slung at his side. He’s got wild hair, curly and even more voluminous than Steve’s. 

Steve vaguely wonders what hairspray he uses. 

“How are we doing tonight, Indy?” Wild Hair bellows into the microphone, voice rough, and the crowd hollers back with a cacophony of noise. “We’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to shake things the fuck up, so, without further ado–” 

He turns and motions to the drummer, who hits his drumsticks together before a wall of sound hits Steve. 

They’re loud.  

He wasn’t really sure what to expect, but he supposes with a name like Corroded Coffin, he should have known the type of music that was coming.

Steve downs the rest of his beer and another shot for good measure, and heads out onto the dance floor. He didn’t come all the way to Indy to sit at the bar all night, after all. 

He’s not really sure how to dance to this kind of music, but he doesn’t have to think about it too much, just moving with the crowd of bodies surrounding him. 

He thought it might be awkward and uncomfortable, being so close to complete strangers and moving in an unbridled way like this, moving with other men, but it’s nice. He doesn’t feel like Steve. In fact, he doesn’t feel like an individual at all. He feels like a part of something bigger.

One of the guys catches his eye, dances a bit closer, presses himself up against Steve’s back, grinding against him. It’s sweaty, the body heat all around them radiating, and pretty soon, Steve needs air. He slips away with an apologetic look, not sure which way it is to the stage or the bar or the door, just trying to navigate his way through the limbs and torsos.

Finally, he breaks free, and finds himself off to the left side of the stage, staring up at the band. He gulps in the air, and it feels cool on his skin compared to the heat of the crowd.

He leans against the wall, watching Wild Hair’s fingers fly across the guitar strings.

The singer’s hair has fallen into his face, sticking to his skin and making him look even more dishevelled. Steve finds he can’t tear his eyes away from the man, mesmerised by his every move – the roll of his hips as he plays guitar, the way his hand wraps around the microphone when he’s singing, the flex of his arms all the way up to his shoulders, sleeves cut off to show an astonishing amount of skin. 

And then Wild Hair looks down at where Steve’s standing, makeup dark around his eyes and a smirk flitting across his lips.

Shit. 

Steve realises his already-tight jeans have just become a little tighter. 

[keep reading on ao3]