#metalhead headcanons

[cum-a-calla]

jesus christ metalhead rory got me feelin' all kinds of ways you just KNOW he reeks of pot and eats pussy like its his job

he sure fucking does, anon. he loves anything that makes you give him that fuck-dumb, brainless, open-mouthed look on your face. he loves it when you come into the metal bar/venue he works at, likes watching you laugh with your friends and likes to make fun of you for ordering your little drinks, he likes the way you visibly fluster when you try to sneak peeks at him across the room just to realize he’s already looking at you, a little smirk on his mouth while he works the tap and wipes the bar down, while he walks plates of bar grub to other patrons between taking orders. he likes watching you walk away when you leave, and isn’t it funny how he’s always on a cigarette break the moment you and your friends start gathering your things to leave? isn’t that funny

((song recs for thrust focus:

“total fucking bliss” - world peace

“patricide - world peace

“pound for pound” - wound man

“man slaughter” - wound man

“he-man” - wound man

“inhuman joy” - regional justice center

“bastard land” - scalp))

he eventually likes guessing what you’re going to order, making drinks a little too strong just to see you sputter and make that cute little face when you take a sip. he likes to make fun of you - aw, come on, girly. too much? c’mon, you can take it, i know you can. do it for me, lemme see you take it. and he doesn’t talk a lot, does he? but when he has extended exchanges with you, it’s always just to the line of innuendo, his words filtered through the look on his face. you know the one - heavy, lidded bedroom eyes, teeth showing through his smirk. just a touch too much eye contact. a little too intimate… but it’s not unwelcome, is it, anon. reading about the electricity between people is fluffy and cliche, but wouldn’t you guess - every time your fingers collide when you hand him your ID, your card to pay, a tip, whatever - any time your fingers touch, it makes your cunt throb. that’s all it takes. and he can see the way you focus on it, the way you are physically unable to look away from his hands - slim, thick-knuckled fingers, veins climbing up into his forearms. and what do you know, those forearms are connected to those biceps, and it’s fucking over. by the time you remember to breathe and look at his face, he’s already watched you eyeballing him. and he loves it. the man doesn’t mince words, he’s so quiet and standoffish, but the little twitches and tics in his expression are undeniable. he fucking loves it. he loves watching you watching him.

but you know what he likes most?

he likes when you come later at night to a show. lots of local thrash bands, metal bands, powerviolence, grindcore. lots of gnashing guitars, lots of screaming and grunting and guttural, cathartic, barely comprehensible words. sweaty, lurching people in the crowd, so many vests and patches and studs. and he waits to meet your eye and watches you as he walks out of the venue, down the steps, knowing you’ll follow him. just a cigarette break. just a little fresh air in the dark.

and who are you to question him when he goes into the alleyway?

and who are you to say anything when he likes to push you up against the wall and crush his lips against yours, against your throat, biting, moaning, and it’s impossible to miss the way he grinds his cock against your hip, hard in his dirty black cutoffs, worn thin and old and full of holes, rips, old faded patches that are long since unable to decipher, the ink all rubbed and washed away through time. and still able to hear the music throbbing in the building, how can you resist the way he kneels down and yanks your skirt up, yanks your shorts down, whatever, just so he can push his face between your legs and eat you right there in the night air? buzzed, heady, hot and desperate. licking your cunt like he’s never had the pleasure before, like he might die in the next hour. sloppy, drooling, pushing his fingers roughly inside of you and licking, kissing, sucking until you’re yanking his hair and covering your own mouth so you can cum just a little quieter, just so you don’t attract too much attention - people occasionally pass by the mouth of the alleyway and they either actively ignore or barely notice. such is life in a big city downtown. who cares? who cares who sees this rabid man with his nose pushing into the soft mound above your pussy, his tongue busy attending every inch of the wet pink flesh inside?

who cares if he occasionally yanks your hips back and the clink of him undoing his belt seems to reverberate above the growling inside the venue? bass and guitar throbbing, the pulse-quick pounding of a band inside, slower than your heartbeat and harder, tantalizing, absolutely animalistic. his hips when he finally plunges his cock into you and pushes your face lovingly against the rough wall, grit on your face. he knows all the bands, he knows the songs. his hips know when to thrust, when to speed up and slow down, and he uses it to his advantage, he bottoms out and fucks you hard enough that you have to keep yourself from screaming. one hand in your hair, one hand digging into your hip, and then both hands, fingers digging into you, his impatient grunts and moans and panting. needing you. owning you. purposely fucking you in half so that even tomorrow you’ll be sore, you’ll remember him through the little pretty bruises his fingertips dig into the soft soft meat of your thighs, your hips, sometimes your tits. the bruises he sucks and bites into your throat and shoulders.

the way you can be away from him for a week, two weeks, longer. but every time you enter the bar, his face lights up just a little bit, his little secret smile, the way he rakes a hand through his hair. the way he leans over the bar and his unwavering gaze. the way he says, “well, hi there, girly.” and guesses your drink, as if he can’t see the leftover bruises on the side of your neck from last time.

[hello-sweetheart]

Dog Groomer Eddie

Eddie who faces the facts that he needs a skill besides music to make money because he loves the band, loves playing, but man the pay is shit. And he’s a dog person, never been able to have a dog and his apartment doesn’t allow pets either so he tries his hand at dog grooming.

He’s actually like, really good at it. Works at a groomers for a couple of years, wins contest that rewards him with some cash and the notoriety needed to find an investor and start his own dog salon.

Fast forward, Steve is visits a dog groomer that was recommended to him by a friend called Metalhead Groomers. The place has metal playing from the speakers which is a weird choice, but it sticks true to the name. The guy at the front has the name tag ‘Jeff’ who has piercing and tattoos, large guy, very intimidating.

But the place looks clean, it has 5 stars, and when Jeff checks in Antoinette he’s actually super nice, like a gentle giant. So Steve’s like, “I don’t particularly care for a cut, you can do whatever.”

“Do you want the full package? It includes a bath, full hygiene routine, dye job, and a specialized cut.”

And steve does not process the ‘dye’ part and agrees.

So see, Eddie, and by extension Metalhead Groomers, is known for their really eccentric and creative work. It’s how Eddie won his first contest after all. And the best worst thing you can give an artist is full reign. But free rein of a standard poodle?? A dog groomers dream come true.

When Steve goes to pick up Antoinette, Eddie hands her over and…

Her ears are curled and dyed in pastel colors with bows and sparkles. Stands of hair above her eyes are streaked pink and look as if they’re some type of falsie lash. Her legs and tail have been dyed a pastel blue ombré. The rest of her body shaved down except for some plush detailed work of large light pink hearts on her sides and a detailed bow on her lower back . Her tail is fluffed and cut into the shape of a heart.

“What the fuck did you do??”

“Dude, you asked for the full package and said ‘do whatever you want’ so… tada! I took some inspiration from her name, but this is kinda mild compared to my other work tbh.”

It takes Eddie explaining that that it’s pet safe dye, she wasn’t hurt, and actually enjoyed all the attention she received for Steve to calm down.

Fast forward a week and Steve comes back into the shop to apologize for blowing up on Eddie. Turns out Antoinette (Nettie for short) is a service dog and her look actually helps people be more aware of her. Steve also feels safer that she’s more identified cuz apparently there’s actually people that steal service animals?? Eddie was not aware of that. Plus, Steve works with young kids and they love Nettie’s look, it makes them more comfortable and engage more.

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: fluff, a bit of smut (mention of tits:3)

I recommend reading part 1 firstly<3

Loser!Metalhead!König who is completely and utterly smitten by you. You, a pretty little thing, big doe eyes looking up at him adoringly, glossed lips kissing him so softly - you make his very bones melt. König is known for his sharp tongue and stoic demeanour, but with his girl he turns into a little teddy bear, all soft and putty and pliant in your hands.

Needless to say that this is Loser!Metalhead!König’s first ever relationship (and he hopes last one - ain’t no way he’s letting you go), so he’s a bit clueless. Not a bit. Okay he’s completely oblivious. I mean, König for sure knows some very basic concepts of relationships, some of them he feels intuitively, some he saw displayed in movies, but in general? You have to give him crystal clear instructions and explanations because this dude doesn’t get damn hints. Yes, it is okay that he holds your hand in public, that’s what you’ve been waiting for months actually. No he can’t punch a guy for smiling at you after you met eyes for a second.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is a member and co-founder of a small heavy metal band with two of his other loser friends, where he is a drummer. They 100% put way too much meaning into band’s name, lyrics and overall aesthetic meanwhile all of their music is about gore and being a hater. It still slaps tho.

They start low - as all music bands do - performing in local rock clubs, soon finding their small, yet loyal audience which grows bigger with time and new records. And even though you’re not actually participating in process of making music - you sure are a member. Those losers surely don’t know how to give interviews - here comes in old little you, answering questions and explaining meaning and inspirations behind songs, process of their creation. Obviously you are the one leading their socials too - before you stepped in their insta page looked more like a mock account filled with ugly ass photos and near to no information about band nor members, account’s description saying “Austria - we make music”

You’re also the one doing their stage makeup, drawing creepy patterns in black and white face paints, making them look actually cool. These losers can’t even do their own significant makeup by themselves - just smearing black paint all over their faces and proudly calling it a stage look smh

Loser!Metalhead!König who definitely practices his singing while showering. He claims it’s good for keeping his voice cords active, “not letting them get rusty”, but just imagine this - you’re getting ready for bed, doing skincare, making your shared bed and fluffing up the pillows, scrolling in your phone - all while devil’s screeching and howling comes from the bathroom, all because that hulk of a man practices screaming techniques.

The more their band gets popular - the more fans start to rave about dynamic of your relationship. Big, burly, 6’10 brute who has to tilt his head down and draw his shoulders together in order to get through a doorframe dating a bubbly princess of a girl like you. Two polar opposites who work out so good together, Mick Thompson and Stacy Riley vibes frfr (god when will it be me)

Loser!Metalhead!König who definitely mansplains all his favourite bands’ lore to you, giving information about every member, how they became popular, what are their most known songs are (and what they got cancelled for but we don’t talk about it okay?)

Loser!Metalhead!König who is still a fucking loser tho. He blushes and stutters every time he sees your tits, his palms getting sweaty, lips ajar as his widened eyes are glued to your exposed chest, Adam’s apple bobbing on his neck. Has he seen them dozens of times before? Yes. Will he ever not be impressed by your tits upon seeing them? Hell no.

A/n: not me dropping this off after a year of not writing and then disappearing again:3

[infinite-orangepeel]

this is so hopper giving his speech at the steddie wedding. making endless dad jokes and embarrassing the hell out of both of them. i’m just imaging him saying something like:

hopper: you never think your future son-in-law is going to turn out to be the same kid you arrested upwards of twenty times when he was in high school but here i am to tell the tale—

eddie: i was also wanted for murder

hopper: don’t bring that up here please. for the love of god. you have no idea how much paper work it took for me to get your name cleared.

steve: i’m pretty sure he was arrested at least thirty times

hopper: like i said folks, you don’t get to choose family and sometimes family is your adopted gay son and his metalhead husband who spent a solid three years living on your couch—

steve: well at least now when i bail him out of jail it’ll be as my husband. i can even sign the paperwork as “mr. steve munson”

eddie: aw babe that’s so sweet

hopper: don’t push it you two

[kathy-ifnt]

I have 0 explanations….

Also bonus @emmaseesghosts ‘s Konig aka Jonas chilling with Killian 🤙🏻

Austrian gang 🇦🇹

PATREON | TWITTER

[shares-a-vest]

I just think Eddie would add the nickname 'Slugger' to his roster of pet names for Steve when he finds out about the nail bat...

Eddie awakens to a scratching sound at Steve's bedroom window.

He thinks it must be the trees. God knows the isolated Loch Nora has enough of them to make a consistent amount of noise 24/7. But his heart skips a beat when he comes to enough to remember that there is in fact, no tree directly outside Steve's bedroom window.

He flips over to face his boyfriend, sending their blankets flying and starling with enough movement he rattles the set of framed baseball cards Steve has on the shelving of his headboard. But the fanatic himself doesn't move, still fast asleep. Looking all angelic and cute as he steadily breathes in and out with only the faintest hint of a snore.

"Steeeeve," he panics, slapping his shoulder, "Steve, there's something at the window!"

Again, nothing.

He groans and leans forward, pressing his weight on him as he speaks directly in his ear, "Steve, wake up and put your goddamn ears in, I'm scared."

He doesn't care that it all sounds a little dramatic. Steve knows he's a total scaredy cat.

"Eds," Steve murmurs, sounding very grumpy, "What is it?"

"There's something outside."

Steve pushes him off, snapping to and hopping straight out of bed in one swift move. Eddie scrambles, spluttering as he struggles against the, now tangled, bed sheets. He looks up just in time to see Steve duck down and retrieve something from underneath his side of the bed…

It's a baseball bat.

A baseball bat covered in large nails. Nails that have been haphazardly hammered in, sticking out every which way and making it quite the deadly weapon.

He watches as Steve spins it around in his hands before gripping it tight and standing at the ready. Oh.

Steve cocks his head and quirks a brow in the direction of the frightening window in question.

The noise is still there, tap, tap a-tapping on the window.

But Eddie really couldn't give a shit anymore because now he is solely focused on his boyfriend creeping towards the window, waving his bat like he geeing himself up to hit a homer. His hands clench with every step, exposing all the veins on his hands and spider up his forearms. All the while the guy is sporting his impossibly voluminous bed hair and skulking along in his loose and tantalisingly-thin sleep shorts that leave nothing to Eddie's filthy imagination.

Well, maybe he can think of a few things…

"Step back against the wall," Steve commands, not tearing his eyes away from the window.

Eddie nods, backing back and clutching at the wall for support as his heart beats faster as Steve whirls the bat around again. He palms along the wall, feeling around until his shaking hand hits the bed and he stumbles onto it.

But Steve isn't paying attention to his immediate disobedience. He is too busy looking out the window.

"Oh, fuck," he curses before groaning with abject annoyance, "Eds!"

"Huh?" Eddie mumbles, watching Steve's bare shoulders flex and then drop as he allows the nail bat to fall by his side.

"It's a raccoon!" Steve whines, stumping the bat into the carpet with a solid thump to punctuate his frustration.

He whips around and starts off for the bed again, dragging his weapon along behind him. As if in a reverse move, Steve rolls the bat back to its hiding spot and flops onto the bed.

"Eds, I was dead asleep!" he complains, dry-sobbing. He helicopter-kicks his feet in order to propel his legs back onto the bed properly, "Why couldn't you have checked it out first?"

"Excuse me," he protests, raising a hand to his chest in offence, "I was terrified."

"You woke me up!" Steve retorts, pulling the covers about without a great deal of finesse - if anything, his technique makes their bedding situation worse.

"Could'a used that weapon up against a colony of flesh-eating bats, my dear," Eddie grins as he attempts to smooth out the crumpled covers before quickly abandoning the futile task.

"Yeah, no shit," Steve snaps. He really is a bitch when he's sleep-deprived a grouchy, "But I didn't exactly have time to come here and get it. You being a wanted fugitive and all."

"I apologise for the inconvenience," he teases, holding out grabby hands, "Come here, Slugger, and I'll make it up to you."

Steve smirks, thoroughly perking up at the new pet name. And before Eddie knows it, his baseball bat-wielding boyfriend is lunging straight over their mountain of twisted blankets for him.

[sweetzonkeggsdream-blog]

Metalhead Raph❤️🖤🤘🐢

I'd personally think he'd like thrash metal

[arospecsyourblockdudes]

Projecting a bit but I think Shen Yuan would be somewhat of a metalhead, especially because there’s some metal bands that’ll have lore or like a Vibe (Sabaton, Ghost, Alestorm, etc) and I think he would love that. Binghe would be kind of a metalhead in the sense that he stalked SY’s social media and listened to all of the bands he posts about so that one day he’ll get up the nerve to DM him and they can have something to talk about, but he also kinda strikes me as a jazz guy? Or like a 2000s emo guy. Liu Qingge listens exclusively to dad rock and ‘two guys talking about some bullshit’ podcasts. Shen Jiu has an entire playlist of like classical/traditional instrumental music for when he’s putting on music around other people and doesn’t listen to anything on his own. Yue Qingyuan just listens to whatever SJ puts on. Shang Qinghua is a Top 40s type of basic but he also likes video game soundtracks. Liu Mingyan likes musicals, the cringier the better for her. Bingge listens to embarrassing tiktok thirst trap music

[turtle-trash]

This too is Yuri

[xoxoladyaz]

Can't help but love that we as a collective have decided that Steve Harrington has really sensitive nipples

[skeletons-and-roses]

I know I already posted this for kloktober but it’s honestly my favorite piece because it shows that under tokis constant happy attitude there is still a layer of trauma that he is able to overcome which I find really sweet and lovely ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[beastsovrevelation]

Yellowjackets Biblical AU

With

The Wilderness as The Devil

Natalie as The Antichrist

Lottie as The False Prophet

Jackie as St. Michael

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: none, König is afraid of women lol, pure fluff, König being all over you <3

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you met through a shared friend at the small party. It’s not even a party as such - about ten young people gathered with food and drinks, light music playing softly on the background as everyone chatted and laughed. Your eyes fell upon tall dark figure in the corner - a giant of a man was sitting silently, listening to a conversation his other two friends were having, adding to it time to time.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is silent, aloof and even intimidating, with his long hair and black band t-shirts with skulls and chains and scary looking letters. You think he doesn’t like you first time you approach him, just nodding curtly at whatever you have to say, occasionally giving the shortest, driest responses. But, strangely, you don’t feel any hostility coming from him, his presence open and welcoming, even despite his detached and even awkward demeanour.

Loser!Metalhead!König who actually freaks the fuck out when a pretty little thing like yourself comes up to talk to him. He’s struck, not knowing what to do or what to say, his fear of women, especially as gorgeous and beautiful as you, showing up on its fullest. Being more of a listener naturally he just lets you ramble his ear off, taking in your every word even if it looks like he doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is drastically different from you. You, with your pretty pink crop top and baby blue jeans, white ribbons adorning your hair and glossed plump lips curving so gorgeously in a smile, are a complete opposite to König - huge burly body clad in all black and heavy chains, thick forearms and bulging biceps, thick eyebrows knitted together, a frown that seems to be permanent is tainting his sharp features.

Loser!Metalhead!König who can’t get you out of his head, memories of you flooding his brain for the next few weeks. You just struck him like lightning - your syrupy voice, gentle eyes gazing up at him as you told him some silly story from your childhood - in the dead of night König’s mind unmistakably wandered back to them, getting lost in your orbs all over again, broad chest filling with warm buzz.

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you meet weeks later in a city centre, accidentally running into him on your way back home from running errands. Your eyes light up upon recognising your new acquaintance, lips stretching in a wide smile and König feels as if all the air is being punched out of his chest. You greet him heartily, asking how he’s been and what he’s up to currently. And König, shocking himself even, grasps the opportunity, asking if you’d like to go grab some coffee because he’s dying for one right now (read as: I’m so painfully into you I’ll use any excuse to be around you). And you happily agree, leading him to that one coffee shop you love, which serves the most delicious chocolate cake he’ll ever have.

Loser!Metalhead!König who spends the rest of the day with you, first in the coffee shop and then going for a walk around the centre of Vienna, just talking about everything. Your bubbly and easygoing personality eases him out of his shell, making him talk more freely about his interests and hobbies, his chest tightening proudly upon seeing your amazed expression as he told you of his passion for playing guitars and drums, promising to teach you how to play a few chords in a future.

Loser!Metalhead!König who happily exchanges instas with you (his pictureless profile with 4 followers and name like kng69 lmao) scrolling in awe through all the photos you have there, littering your phone with repeated notifications of new like on your post. He’s sad when he notices the time, you telling him that you have to go home now, his ears perking up at your upset tone, meaning that you don’t want this day to end just as much as König does. He waits for your taxi to arrive, making sure you get in the right car, wishing you a safe ride home.

Loser!Metalhead!König who texts you on ig an hour later, asking if you got home safe. That message makes you smile stupidly at your phone as you reassure him that you’re all safe and sound at your place, adding that you enjoyed today and would like to meet up with König again someday. Now he’s the one grinning at his phone, pale blush dusting his high cheekbones as he lays sleepless in his bed, head full of buzzing thoughts and every single one of them is painfully full of you<3

A/n: might write part 2 of that, lmk if you’d like it🤭

[scp230kinnie]

Haiii!! :3

So i saw a tiktok and it was a girl who was at a concert and her bf was standing behind her caging her in and they were in the pit, sorry if i explained it bad 😓

But can you pretty please do something like that with hunter sylvester??

AWH OHMG I THINK I SAW THAT ONE

PLS LET ME KNOW IF ITS THE RIGHT ONE BUT THIS IS WHAT IM BASING IT OFF OF OKAY

Pit Princess❤️

Hunter Sylvester x reader OneShot

Sorry if this sucks I haven’t written in many months I think I forgot how to

After months of waiting, you and Hunter had finally gotten to see one of your favourite bands live. (Whatever metal band you want). You’d both spent the afternoon getting ready, making sure you look good. With your cute outfits, accessories, hair done, and maybe corpse paint if you wanna go that far. That night you went to the concert, and you were lucky enough to be in the front.

The concert went on, you against the barricade, enjoying the show and maybe even singing along if you can. You knew Hunter was behind you but you didn’t want to miss a single second of the show. The only actual hint he was still there was his rough hands on either side of you on the rail, and occasionally you’d feel his chest against your back.

“Are you sure you're okay here?" Hunter yelled over the sound of the band playing, his body pushed right against yours, the pit behind them shoving him into you.

"I'm great!" You answered, shouting to be heard over the music and loud fans.

Once the concert ends, everyone slowly leaves the venue. You turn to him as you’re walking out together. “That was the nicest crowd I’ve ever been in!” You smile and hold onto his arm as you walk.

“Nah, I was just being beaten half to death.” He smirks and you guys walk back to his car.

—————————————————

So it’s currently 4 am idk if this is bad or not. I also stole the words from the comments of the tiktok but it works.

Sorry for not writing for many months I didn’t feel like it

LEAVE SWEET HOME REQUESTS IM BEGGING!!!!!!!!

SWEET HOME REQS!!!!!

PLEASE

[steddieas-shegoes]

Eddie Munson would be obsessed with Hozier

There I said it

He would call him the Tolkien of songwriting and would absolutely not care that it might “ruin his image” to enjoy his music

[thesensory0verlord]

personal headcannon of mine

E-123 Omega is such a metalhead (physically and music wise) he would ADOREEE Judas Preist

his favorite songs by them is firepower and all guns blazing ☺️