#different types of rhythmic music notes

[mononijikayu]

1-800-hot-n-fun — fushiguro toji.

"Hey, doll." Toji called out as you approached the exit, a hint of something serious in his tone for the first time. "What’s your number?" You turned around, flashing him a grin that was all playful mischief. "My number? Sure. It's 1-800-hot-n-fun, stranger." you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you stepped closer to him. 

GENRE: alternate universe — modern au;

WARNING/s: NSFW (R18+), Smut, AFAB! Reader, Romance, Age Gap (Reader is in Her 20s, Toji is in his 30s), Strangers to Potential Lovers, Pet Names (Doll, Stranger;), Profanity, Cursing, Stripping Clothes, Fingering, P to V Sex, Kissing, Making Out, Humor, Flirting, Teasing, Mention of Stripping, Mention of Body Parts, Mention of Sexual Acts, Mention of Smoking, Mention of Age Gap, Depiction of Bar Experience, Depiction of Sexual Acts, Depiction of Nudity, Depiction of Smoking;

WORDS: 3.8k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: lately i keep thinking about toji and how he's genuinely the type to have been someone who wanders into bars and places for fun before and after mamaguro. i think in a way, he's looking for a place to belong. i wanted to make a fun thought about that and as usual, in keeping with kinktober. anyway, i indulge myself to be his controversially young partner for shits and giggles while writing this. in any case, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all!! 🫶

ADDENDUM: another little gift - i've published a original story on my wattpad on my eleventh anniversary on the app. its like a little indulgence of mine which i worked on a long while ago. if you would like to read it, please click here!!! thank you so much!!! <3

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IT WAS JUST A REGULAR FRIDAY NIGHT OUT. The club was alive with energy, lights flashing in rhythmic patterns that matched the heavy bass reverberating through your body. You had come out tonight to lose yourself in the music, to dance, to have fun—your favorite escape.

The moment you stepped onto the dance floor, you were in your element, moving with confidence and ease. You didn’t care about anything else, just the thrill of the moment. But then, you saw him.

Fushiguro Toji. But you didn’t know his name yet. The man who seemed to tower over everyone else, his presence impossible to ignore. He was older, easily a decade older than you, but there was something about him that pulled you in instantly.

You couldn’t look away. His rugged, confident demeanor was a sharp contrast to the carefree crowd around him. He was dressed sharply in that suit and coat. He was businessman, you like to think.

You can't help but watch his every move. He was beautiful. He wasn’t dancing like everyone else, just standing by the bar, watching, with that sharp, intense gaze that sent a thrill down your spine. He was trying to light a cigarette with that bright silver lighter with precision.

You wanted to approach him. An it was a good thing that you weren’t shy. It was obvious that he was older than you. But even with the age difference, you knew what you wanted, and right now, all you wanted was him.

Your pulse quickened, not from the music, but from the thought of getting closer to him. You danced your way through the crowd, your movements playful and enticing, knowing his eyes would eventually find you.

And they did.

His gaze locked onto you, and it was like the world narrowed down to just the two of you. Every sway of your hips, every flick of your hair, you made sure he was watching. You like trying to tease him like this. And surely enough, he was caught in your trap.

The music pulsed louder, but all you could feel was the heat building between you both, the silent pull that was undeniable. You watched as the smoke poured out of his lips, almost erotically. He looked at you in the eyes, a smirk on his lips. Oh, he’s enjoying playing games with you.

Without hesitation, you made your way over, bold and confident. The closer you got, the more you could see the rough edges of his jaw, the scar that gave him an air of danger, and those sharp green eyes that made your heart race. You leaned against the bar beside him, flashing him a playful smile.

"You don’t seem like the type to just stand around, stranger." you teased, loud enough to be heard over the music, your voice laced with flirtation.

Toji raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth squirming up into a smirk. His smoke tied through in his fingertips. "And you don’t seem like the type to be this bold," he shot back, his voice deep and rough, sending shivers through you.

You laughed, tossing your hair over your shoulder, feeling the electric tension between you thickening. "I like to party, kiss everybody, have a good time, stranger." you said, quoting the song playing in the background, letting the words roll off your tongue in a teasing, suggestive way. "But tonight, I’ve got my eyes on you."

He leaned in slightly, just enough that you could feel the heat of his body. "You sure you can handle that?" he asked, his voice dropping to a lower, more dangerous tone that made your heart skip a beat.

"Try me, stranger." you challenged, meeting his gaze head-on.

Without another word, he killed the light of his cigarette in the ashtray. He quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the bar and into the shadows, out of the chaotic light of the dance floor but still close enough to feel the energy of the crowd. His grip was firm, possessive, and it made you crave more.

Pressed against the wall, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between the two of you, Toji’s body loomed over you, making you feel small in the best way. His hands rested on either side of your head, trapping you, but you weren’t scared. You wanted this.

The thrill of the chase, the excitement of being with someone older, someone who had an edge to him that made your pulse race with both excitement and danger.

"You’re too young for me, doll." he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he leaned in closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. “You can’t be more than 20.”

"I’m a bit older than that. But that doesn't matter, doesn't it? I like what I want." you whispered back, your voice breathy with anticipation. "And I want you, stranger."

That was all it took. His lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, as if he’d been holding back and finally let himself give in. The kiss was hot, intense, and full of raw energy, making your knees go weak as you clung to him. 

And the taste, oh the rough taste of nicotine passing from you to him giving you a whiplash. His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly, pulling you flush against his body. The age gap, the club, the people around you—it all melted away, leaving only the heat between you.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers tangling in his dark hair, tugging him closer, wanting more. Every touch, every movement between you was electric, and you knew there was no turning back now.

"I like to kiss everybody." you whispered against his lips, teasing him with a grin as you broke the kiss for just a second before pulling him back in, your body pressed even tighter against his.

Toji chuckled lowly against your mouth, his hand sliding up your back, possessive and firm. "Guess you’ll be kissing only me tonight, doll." he growled, his voice sending a thrill through you.

Toji’s lips crashed into yours again, rougher this time, fueled by the undeniable heat between you both. It wasn’t gentle or sweet—it was a raw hunger that made your head spin.

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between your bodies. You could feel the hardness of his muscles through his shirt, and it made your pulse race faster. His presence was overwhelming, and you loved every second of it.

Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, pulling him even closer, wanting more. His hands roamed your body with a rough possessiveness, sliding from your waist down to your hips, gripping you as if he didn’t want to let go. You could feel the power behind every touch, the way he held you like he owned you, and it made your body heat up in ways you hadn’t expected.

Toji broke the kiss for just a second, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You’re playing a dangerous game, doll." he murmured, his voice rough and husky, laced with dark amusement. His breath was hot against your skin, and it made you shiver.

You tilted your head back slightly, giving him more access to your neck as he trailed hot kisses down the side of your throat. "Maybe I like it dangerous, stranger." you whispered, your voice breathy as you clung to him, feeling the tension in your body coil tighter with every kiss, every touch.

His lips hovered over the sensitive spot on your neck, and you gasped when he bit down softly, enough to leave a mark but not enough to hurt. It was possessive, a silent claim, and it made your body tremble with anticipation. You weren’t afraid—if anything, you wanted more of him. More of the rough edges, more of the heat that burned between you two like a wildfire.

"You’re gonna regret this, doll." he growled, but the way his hands slid down your body told you that he didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. His grip tightened on your hips as he pulled you even closer, pinning you against the wall with his body.

"I doubt it, stranger." you teased, arching into him, feeling the tension between you build to an almost unbearable level.

The age gap, the danger, the intensity—it was all part of the thrill, and you craved it. Toji wasn’t like anyone you’d been with before, and that’s what made you want him even more. He was interesting, he was brutish, he was charming, he was rough and it all excites you. More than you hoped.

He kissed you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your body with a rough urgency that made you feel like he was claiming every inch of you. You kissed him back just as fiercely, letting him know that you weren’t backing down. You wanted this, wanted him, and nothing was going to stop you.

The music from the club pulsed around you, but it felt distant now, like it was just background noise to the heat between the two of you. The flashing lights only served to highlight the intensity of the moment, casting shadows and making everything feel more electric.

"Tell me what you want, doll." Toji growled against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt, the heat of his touch searing your skin.

"I want you, stranger. Badly." you whispered, your voice breathy with desire. You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "I’ve wanted you since I saw you."

Toji’s eyes darkened at your words, and without hesitation, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you harder against the wall. He doens't care who comes through the door of the toilets. You're more what matters right now. He wants you so badly. And he'll claim you, no matter what.

You could feel his lips were on yours again, the kiss deep and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You could feel the strength of his body against yours, the way he moved with an intensity that made your head spin.

"You don’t know what you’re getting into, doll." he muttered between kisses, his voice rough and filled with a dark promise. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck again, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you gasp.

"Then show me." you challenged, your body arching into him, craving more of his touch. You wanted all of it—the heat, the danger, the thrill of being with someone older, someone who wasn’t afraid to take control.

Toji growled low in his throat, his hands tightening on your body as he kissed you harder, the intensity between you reaching a fever pitch. The air was thick with desire, the tension almost too much to bear as you clung to him, your fingers gripping his shoulders for support.

Every kiss, every touch was filled with a fiery passion that made your heart race and your body ache for more. Toji was dangerous, unpredictable, and that only made you want him more. Nothing else mattered anymore when it comes to this—all that mattered was the heat between you, the way his hands roamed your body like he owned it, and the way his lips left a trail of fire everywhere they touched.

The door to the club bathroom slammed shut behind you, muffling the pounding music outside. Toji's mouth was on yours before you could even catch your breath, his hands rough and needy as they gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat between you was intoxicating, every kiss deeper, every pull more frantic.

"You’re so fucking hot, doll." Toji growled against your lips, his voice low and gravelly. His hands slid up your sides, yanking at your shirt, fingers fumbling with the fabric. "I can’t get enough of you. Y'r too sweet, too good."

You didn’t answer—your breath caught in your throat as his hands found their way under your skirt, fingers brushing against your core. You moaned, arching into him, tugging at his shirt with equal desperation. 

"Take it off already." you panted, voice breathless as you tried to strip him bare, needing to feel more of him, all of him.

"Impatient, huh?" he teased, his lips curving into a wicked grin as he shoved his shirt over his head. But before you could respond, his fingers were inside you, two thick digits stretching you out, making you gasp as your head fell back against the tiled wall. 

"That’s it, pretty doll." Toji whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers pumped in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made your body hum with pleasure. "Ride my fingers. I wanna feel you come."

Your hips moved on their own, grinding down against his hand as he curled his fingers just right, his thumb brushing against your clit in slow, torturous circles. You whimpered, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders, trying to stay grounded as waves of pleasure started to crash over you.

"Fuck, fuck……" you gasped, barely able to hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. His mouth found your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that sent shivers down your spine, the sensation overwhelming as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"You’re so tight, doll." he rasped, his voice thick with desire, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. "God, I love how you feel. Come on, let go of it all for me."

And you did. Your body seized as pleasure exploded inside you, your vision blurring as you came, trembling against him, your slick coating his fingers. You felt like you were floating, barely able to catch your breath as you came down from the high.

Toji grinned against your skin, his fingers slowly slipping out of you as he brought them to his lips, eyes locked on yours as he sucked your slick from them, tasting you with a low, satisfied groan. He was smug about it all, and all you could do was stare at him.

"Mm, you taste even better than I imagined, doll." he murmured, his voice thick with hunger as he pressed his body closer, his lips ghosting over yours. "But we’re not done yet, doll. Not even close."

His words hung heavy in the air, and you could feel your pulse quicken at the way he looked at you—dark, possessive, like he had all the time in the world to wreck you. Toji pressed his body closer to yours, his chest warm and solid against your trembling form. The grin on his lips was dangerous, teasing, as if daring you to give in again.

"You think you’re ready for more?" he asked, his voice a low rumble as his fingers trailed down your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. His touch was deliberate, lingering, as if savoring every second. "Because I’m not stopping until you’re begging me to."

You swallowed hard, your body still buzzing from the aftermath of your climax. His fingers, slick with your release, grazed your skin, making you twitch with sensitivity. The throbbing heat between your legs hadn’t faded—it only seemed to grow with every word he said, every look he gave you.

"Stranger...…" you breathed, your voice coming out in a shaky whisper. You could barely think straight, let alone form a coherent sentence. The hunger in his eyes was relentless, and it sent a surge of desire straight to your core. You wanted him—needed him—and it was almost maddening how much. "Please."

"I know, doll." he muttered, his lips ghosting over yours in a featherlight touch that sent a shockwave of need through you. "I know exactly what you need." 

His hands moved swiftly, fingers curling around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down before you even had a chance to protest—not that you would. He pressed his hips against yours, and you could feel how hard he was through his pants, the outline of his length pressing into your stomach.

He chuckled, low and predatory, as he kissed you again, this time rougher, more demanding. You were lost in it, in him, and before you knew it, your hands were at his belt, fumbling with the buckle.

"You’re driving me crazy, stranger." you muttered against his lips, your fingers finally unfastening his belt and yanking at the zipper. 

His pants dropped to the floor, and Toji wasted no time, his large hands grabbing the backs of your thighs, lifting you off the ground in one swift motion. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he pinned you harder against the wall, his mouth never leaving yours.

"You’re the one driving me fucking insane, doll." he groaned, his voice rough with barely controlled restraint. His hand found your heat again, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock, but not pushing in just yet, savoring the moment as he brushed against your swollen folds. "You just feel too good, yeah, huh.”

"Then what are you waiting for?" you whispered, your voice breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rocked your hips, trying to close the agonizing distance between you.

Toji grinned wickedly, his eyes flashing with desire. "Patience won't you, doll?" 

His hand gripped your hip, positioning you just right before, with one hard thrust, he pushed inside you, stretching you in ways that made you gasp. The sudden fullness left you breathless, your walls tightening around him as you clung to his broad shoulders.

"Fuck!" you both cursed at the same time, the sensation of him filling you sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. His forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the delicious stretch.

"You feel so good, doll." he rasped, his breath hot against your lips, eyes dark with lust as he began to move, slow at first, savoring the way your body responded to him. "So tight. I’m gonna make you come again—over and over until you can’t take it anymore."

You moaned as he picked up the pace, each thrust harder and deeper, hitting all the right spots. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, your head falling back against the wall as you surrendered to the pleasure, completely at his mercy.

"That’s it, that’s—oh." Toji groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the cramped bathroom. "Give it to me—fuck, you’re so perfect."

Your vision blurred as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, every thrust pushing you closer to your breaking point. The world outside ceased to exist—all you could feel was him, the heat between you, the way he filled you so completely.

"Come for me, doll." he whispered, his voice thick and commanding as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "Come on, I know you’re close."

It was all you needed. Your body tightened around him, your nails digging into his back as your second orgasm crashed over you, harder than the first. You cried out his name, your body trembling as waves of pleasure pulsed through you.

Toji followed right after, groaning low in your ear as he thrust into you one last time, spilling inside you. His body shuddered against yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the two of you lost in each other, breathing heavily as the aftermath of your passion washed over you.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, still holding you against the wall, both of you breathless. Toji has never felt like this before. Not for any person he's ever encountered. He felt hot. Too hot inside and out. And he wanted more. He wanted to be consumed by you more.

"Damn, doll…." he murmured with a lazy grin, pulling back slightly to look at you. "I knew you’d feel good, but that…"

You smirked, still panting, your arms draped loosely around his neck. "Yeah?" you whispered, feeling the aftershocks of your climax still coursing through you.

Toji chuckled, his grin widening as he kissed you again, slow and deliberate this time. "Yeah. And next time, we’re not stopping until you beg me to."

As the haze of pleasure slowly lifted, you both took a moment to catch your breath. Toji's body still pressed close to yours, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and lust. But the reality of your surroundings began to sink in, and with a mischievous grin, you reached for your discarded clothes, the remnants of your heated moment lingering in the small, cramped bathroom.

You could feel the evidence of your encounter still dripping down your thighs as you slipped your panties back on, the sensation sending a rush of satisfaction through you. Toji watched you, his eyes dark and satisfied, a lazy grin curling his lips as he pulled his pants up, fastening his belt. His gaze lingered on you, like he was already planning the next time he’d have you pinned up against another wall.

"You good?" he asked, his voice low and gruff as he slipped his shirt back on. He was still watching you with that same predatory look, like he wasn’t quite done yet.

You winked at him, unable to suppress the playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Better than good, stranger." you teased, smoothing down your skirt as you finished adjusting your clothes. 

Toji’s eyes darkened again, clearly ready for round two, but before he could make a move, you brushed past him, opening the door and stepping back into the dimly lit hallway of the club.

As you both strolled out of the bathroom, you could still feel him leaking inside you, a delicious reminder of what just happened. You glanced over your shoulder at him, the corner of your lips quivering in amusement. His gaze hadn’t left you for a second, his eyes trailing your every move.

"Hey, doll." Toji called out as you approached the exit, a hint of something serious in his tone for the first time. "What’s your number?"

You turned around, flashing him a grin that was all playful mischief. "My number? Sure. It's 1-800-hot-n-fun, stranger." you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you stepped closer to him. 

Before he could react, you grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down to kiss him roughly, your lips crashing against his in a heated, final goodbye kiss. You winked at him when you finished, patting his shoulder softly.

He grinned against your lips, his hands finding your waist again as if he couldn’t help himself. But before things could heat up again, you pulled back, giving him a coy smile. "Check your pocket, stranger." you whispered, your voice low and sultry.

With a smirk, you turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of the club without another word. Toji’s eyes followed you until you were out of sight, his lips still curved in amusement as he slipped a hand into his pocket.

When he pulled out the crumpled piece of paper, his grin widened as he read your phone number scrawled in bold letters. "Looks like she’s not done with me after all, huh?" he muttered under his breath, tucking the paper back into his pocket with a satisfied smirk.

Toji chuckled to himself, his mind already racing with the thought of calling you up for another round of fun. "Guess I’ll be making that call real soon."

[miss-hyoko]

I just came back from prom night, it was a disaster. Can you make some happy prom hc with Riddle and Mallues please. Tysm in advance.

"I apologize for making you wait, dear customer. This is your order, a [Prom Night] gado-gado. Hopefully, the taste is to your liking. Enjoy."

Prom Night

Character(s): Riddle and Malleus

Summary: You're going to prom night with him

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff, platonic but can be read as romantic, one-sided crush from the boys to make it more cute

Note: Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that your prom night didn't go so well. Albeit late, I hope this hc can cheer you up. Psst, my prom night is also a disaster, so this is quite self-indulgent of me. Thank you for the request, anon 💕💞💕

1. Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle spends almost an entire week trying to figure out how to ask you to be his prom date. But facing you directly, his mind suddenly goes blank, and he ALMOST can't remember anything he had practiced beforehand. He make a small talk at first to calm himself before finally asking you to be his partner for the prom with a flushed face. Even though Riddle attempted to act calm, the way his lips lifted into a small relieved smile when you agreed to his invitation easily revealed his real feelings.

After knowing that you will be Riddle's partner for the prom night, Cater becomes very enthusiastic and tries to persuade Riddle into wearing couple outfits with you, making Riddle's face instantly turn bright red upon hearing that. While the idea itself is pretty intriguing for him, he doesn't want to force you to dress according to his style. After all, everyone has different tastes in clothes and you also want to look your best on prom night, right?

Although a bit stiff, Riddle's actually one of the best partners you could ask for. He will pick you up on time and even bring you back safely. Totally the "Yes sir, I'll bring them home by 7pm" type of a guy. And being a gentleman he is, Riddle won't leave you alone without informing you first or if you tell him that you want to enjoy some time with your friends.

When the music for the slow dance starts, Riddle comes up to you with cheeks slightly red and offers his hand to you: silently asking your permission for a dance. Riddle might appear strict, but he knew how to slow dance. And his dance skills are more than superb. With one hand on your waist and the other holding your hand, Riddle slowly guides you around the dance floor while occasionally spinning to the slow, rhythmic music.

Being a prom night organizing committee member, Riddle knew that at the end of the prom, there would be a grand fireworks show. Therefore, before the prom ended, he took you out of the hall to sit on a bench in the courtyard where fireworks would be seen clearly. Because it was night, Riddle draped his suit jacket over you so you wouldn't catch a cold. Sitting side by side, the two of you watch the fireworks blooming beautifully in the night sky.

2. Malleus Draconia

He probably didn't know there was a prom night until you asked him to be your partner on your daily midnight strolling. In front of you, he accepted your invitation with a nod and a low chuckle. But internally, Malleus' heart was already leaping with joy. When he returns to his dorm later, he goes directly to Lilia to tell him about the good news and then starts making a preparation for himself.

As soon as he heard from Lilia that prom dates usually wear matching outfits, Malleus immediately contacted you to ask whether you wanted to do it. If you agree to wear matching outfits, he won't hesitate to order new clothes for you to match the suits he will wear to the prom. Not only clothes, but Malleus also gives you jewelry and other accessories from his own treasury that he feels would suit you.

When he comes to pick you up, Malleus brings you a corsage/boutonnières of green roses covered with preservation magic to ensure they don't wither. It pairs well with the boutonnières he wears on the lapel of his jacket; it lets people know you two are a prom date with just one glance. After making sure that you were ready to go, Malleus offered his arm for you to hold and teleported you both right into the center of the hall. Arriving surrounded by green light, you two make the grandest entrance ever.

Being your prom date, Malleus never leaves your side unless you ask him to do so. When it's time to dance, Malleus will hold his hand to you with a small smile, inviting you to dance with him. Raised as a prince of the Briar Valley, Malleus is exceptional at dancing. With ease, he moved his body in a smooth motion, sliding across the dance floor so gracefully while holding you close.

After dancing with Malleus, everyone's attention in the hall immediately fell on you two. If their stares make you uncomfortable, Malleus will immediately take you out to take a breather, maybe to the woods behind the school or Ramshackle's backyard. Using his magic, Malleus summons fireflies to light up the surroundings, making it look like a scene from a fairy tale. There, the two of you will start dancing again to the sound of the night insects before returning to the hall for the rest of the event.

[canmom]

Music Theory Notes (for science bitches) 1: chords & such

This is one of these series where I use my blog as a kind of study blog type thing. If you're knowledgeable about music theory, it will be very basic. But that's kind of the problem, I've really struggled to absorb those basics!

When I was a teenager I learned to play violin and played in orchestras. I could read music, and play decently enough, but I didn't really understand music. I just read what was on the page, and played the scales I had to play for exams.

Lately I've been trying to learn music again. This time my instruments are zhonghu, voice, and DAWs. At some point I might get my violin back too. But really, I'm a total beginner again, and this time I want to do it properly.

For a long time when I tried to learn about music I would get overwhelmed with terminology and jargon and conventions. I might watch videos on composition and they'd be interesting but a lot of it would just fly over my head, I'd just have to nod along because I had no idea what all the different types of chord and such were. I tried to learn from sites like musictheory.net, but I found it hard to figure out the logical structure to fit it all into.

I feel like I'm finally making a bit of headway, so it's time to take some notes. The idea here is not just to answer the what, but also to give some sense of why, a motivation. So in a sense this is a first attempt at writing the introduction to music theory I wish I'd had. This is going to assume you know a little bit about physics, but basically nothing about music.

What is music? From first principles.

This is impossible to answer in full generality, especially since as certain people would be quick to remind me, there's a whole corner of avant-garde composers who will cook up counterexamples to whatever claim you make. So let's narrow our focus: I'm talking about the 'most common' type of music in the society I inhabit, which is called 'tonal music'. (However some observations may be relevant to other types of music such as noise or purely rhythmic music.)

Music is generally an art form involving arranging sound waves in time into patterns (in the sense that illustration is about creating patterns on a 2D surface with light, animation is arranging illustrations in time, etc.).

Physically, sound is a pressure wave propagating through a medium, primarily air. As sound waves propagate, they will reflect off surfaces and go into superposition, and depending on the materials around, certain frequencies might be attenuated or amplified. So the way sound waves propagate in a space is very complicated!

But in general we've found we can pretty decently approximate the experience of listening to something using one or two 'audio tracks', which are played back at just one or two points. So for the sake of making headway, we will make an approximation: rather than worry about the entire sound field, we're going to talk about a one-dimensional function of time, namely the pressure at the idealised audio source. This is what gets displayed inside an audio editor. For example, here's me playing the zhonghu, recorded on a mic, as seen inside Audacity.

A wrinkle that is not relevant for this discussion: The idealised 'pressure wave' is a continuous real function of the reals (time to pressure). By contrast, computer audio is quantised in both the pressure level and time, and this is used to reconstruct a continuous pressure wave by convolution at playback time. (Just like a pixel is not a little square, an audio sample is not a constant pressure!) But I'm going to talk about real numbers until quantisation becomes relevant.

When the human eye receives light, the cone cells in the eye respond to the frequencies of EM radiation, creating just three different neural signals, but with incredibly high sensitivity to direction. By contrast, when the human ear receives sound, it is directed into an organ called the cochlea which is kind of like a cone rolled up into a spiral...

Inside this organ, the sound wave moves around the spiral, which has a fascinatingly complex structure that means different frequencies of wave will excite tiny hairs at different points along the tube. In effect, the cochlea performs a short-time Fourier transform of the incoming sound wave. Information about the direction of the incoming wave is given by the way it reflects off the shape of the ear, the difference between ears, and the movement of our head.

So! In contrast to light, where the brain receives a huge amount of information about directions of incoming light but only limited information of the frequency spectrum, with sound we receive a huge amount of information about the frequency spectrum but only quite limited information about its direction.

Music thus generally involves creating patterns with vibration frequencies in the sound wave. More than this, it's also generally about creating repeating patterns on a longer timescale, which is known as rhythm. This has something to do with the way neurons respond to signals but that's something I'm not well-versed in, and in any case it is heavily culturally mediated.

All right, so, this is the medium we have to play with. When we analyse an audio signal that represents music, we chop it up into small windows, and use a Fourier transform to find out the 'frequencies that are present in the signal'.

Most musical instruments are designed to make sounds that are combinations of certain frequencies at integer ratios. For example here is a plot of the [discrete] Fourier transform of a note played on the zhonghu:

The intensity of the signal is written in decibels, so it's actually a logarithmic scale despite looking linear. The frequency of the wave is written in Hertz, and plotted logarithmically as well. A pure sine wave would look like a thin vertical line; a slightly wider spike means it's a combination of a bunch of sine waves of very close frequencies.

The signal consists of one strong peak at 397Hz and nearby frequencies, and a series of peaks at (roughly) integer multiples of this frequency. In this case the second and third peaks are measured at 786Hz, and 1176Hz. Exact integer ratios would give us 794Hz and 1191Hz, but because the first peak is quite wide we'd expect there to be some error.

Some terminology: The first peak is called the fundamental, and the remaining peaks are known as overtones. The frequency of the fundamental is what defines this signal as a particular musical note, and the intensities of the overtone and widths of the peaks define the quality of the note - the thing that makes a flute and a violin playing the same fundamental frequency sound different when we listen to them. If you played two different notes at the same time, you'd get the spectrums of both notes added together - each note has its own fundamental and overtones.

OK, so far that's just basic audio analysis, nothing is specific to music. To go further we need to start imposing some kind of logical structure on the sound, defining relationships between the different notes.

The twelve-tone music system

There are many ways to do this, but in the West, one specific system has evolved as a kind of 'common language' that the vast majority of music is written in. As a language, it gives names to the notes, and defines a space of emotional connotations. We unconsciously learn this language as we go through the process of socialisation, just as we learn to interpret pictures, watch films, etc.

The system I'm about to outline is known as 12-tone equal temperament or "12TET". It was first cooked up in the 16th century almost simultaneously in China and Europe, but it truly became the standard tuning in the West around the 18th century, distilled from a hodgepodge of musical systems in use previously. In the 20th century, classical composers became rather bored of it and started experimenting with other systems of tonality. Nevertheless, it's the system used for the vast majority of popular music, film and game soundtracks, etc.

Other systems exist, just as complex. Western music tends to create scales of seven notes in an octave, but there are variants that use other amounts, like 6. And for example classical Indian music uses its own variant of a seven-note scale; there are also nuances within Western music such as 'just intonation' which we'll discuss in a bit; really, everything in music is really fucking complicated!

I'll be primarily discussing 12TET because 1. it's hard enough to understand just one system and this one is the most accessible; 2. this has a very nice mathematical structure which tickles my autismbrain. However, along the way we'll visit some variants, such as 'Pythagorean intervals'.

The goal is to try and not just say 'this is what the notation means' but explain why we might construct music this way. Since a lot of musical stuff is kept around for historical reasons, that will require some detours into history.

Octaves

So, what's the big idea here? Well, let's start with the idea of an octave. If you have two notes, let's call then M and N, and the frequency of N is twice the frequency of M... well, to the human ear, they sound very very closely related. In fact N is the first overtone of M - if you play M on almost any instrument, you're also hearing N.

Harmony, which we'll talk about in a minute, is the idea that two notes sound especially pleasant together - but this goes even further. So in many many music systems around the world, these two notes with frequency ratio of 2 are actually identified - they are in some sense 'the same note', and they're given the same name. This also means that further powers of 2, of e.g. 4, 8, 16, and so on, are also 'the same note'. We call the relationship between M and N an octave - we say if two notes are 'an octave apart', one has twice the frequency of the other.

For example, a note whose fundamental frequency is 261.626Hz is known as 'C' in the convention of 'concert pitch'. This implies an infinite series of other Cs, but since the human ear has a limited range of frequencies, in practice you have Cs from 8.176Hz up through 16744.036. These are given a series of numbers by convention, so 261.626Hz is called C4, often 'middle C'. 523.251Hz is C5, 1046.502Hz is C6, and so on. However, a lot of the time it doesn't matter which C you're talking about, so you just say 'C'.

But the identification of "C" with 261.626Hz * 2^N is just a convention (known as 'concert pitch'). Nothing is stopping you tuning to any other frequency: to build up the rest of the structure you just need some note to start with, and the rest unfolds using ratios.

Harmony and intervals

Music is less about individual notes, and more about the relationship between notes - either notes played at the same time, or in succession.

Between any two notes we have something called an interval determined by the ratio of their fundamental frequencies. We've already seen one interval: the octave, which has ratio 2.

The next interval to bring up is the 'fifth'. There are a few different variants of this idea, but generally speaking if two notes have a ratio of 1.5, they sound really really nice together. Why is this called a 'fifth'? Historical reasons, there is no way to shake this terminology, we're stuck with it. Just bear with me here, it will become semi-clear in a minute.

In the same vein, other ratios of small integers tend to sound 'harmonious'. They're satisfying to hear together. Ratios of larger integers, by contrast, feel unsatisfying. But this creates an idea of 'tension' and 'resolution'. If you play two notes together that don't harmonise as nicely, you create a feeling of expectation and tension; when you you play some notes that harmonise really well, that 'resolves' the tension and creates a sense of relief.

Building a scale - just intonation

The exact 3:2 integer ratio used in two tuning systems called 'Pythagorean tuning' and 'just intonation'. Using these kinds of integer ratios, you can unfold out a whole series of other notes, and that's how the Europeans generally did things before 12TET came along. For example, in 'just intonation', you might start with some frequency, and then procede in the ratios 9/8, 5/4, 4/3, 3/2, 5/3, 15/8, and at last 2 (the octave). These would be given a series of letters, creating a 'scale'.

What is a scale? A scale is something like the 'colour palette' for a piece of music. It's a set of notes you use. You might use notes from outside the scale but only very occasionally. Different scales are associated with different feelings - for example, the 'major scale' generally feels happy and triumphant, while a 'minor scale' tends to feel sad and forlorn. We'll talk a lot more about scales soon.

In the European musical tradition, a 'scale' consists of seven notes in each octave, so the notes are named by the first seven notes of the alphabet, i.e. A B C D E F G. A scale has a 'base note', and then you'd unfold the other frequencies using the ratios. An instrument such as a piano would be tuned to play a particular scale. The ratios above are one definition of a 'major scale', and starting with C as the base note, the resulting set of notes is called 'C Major'.

All these nice small-number ratios tend to sound really good together. But it becomes rather tricky if you want to play multiple scales on the same instrument. For example, say your piano is tuned in just intonation to C Major. This means, assuming you have a starting frequency we'll call C, you have the following notes available in a given octave:

C, D=(9/8)C, E=(5/4)C, F=(4/3)C, G=(3/2)C [the fifth!], A=(5/3)C, B=(15/8)C, and 2C [the start of the next octave].

Note: the interval we named the 'fifth' is the fifth note in this scale. It's actually the fifth note in the various minor scales too.

But now suppose you want to play with some different notes - let's say a scale we'll call 'A major', which has the same frequency ratios starting on the note we previously called A. Does our piano have the right keys to play this scale?

Well, the next note up from A would be (9/8)A, which would be (9/8)(5/3)C=(15/8)C - that's our B key, so far so good. Then (5/4)A=(5/4)(5/3)C=(25/12)C and... uh oh! We don't have a (25/12)C key, we have 2C, so if we start at A and go up two keys, we have a note that is slightly lower frequency than the one we're looking for.

What this means is that, depending on your tuning, you could only approximate the pretty integer ratios for any scale besides C major. (25/12) is pretty close to 2, so that might not seem so bad, but sometimes we'd land right in between two notes. We can approximate these notes by adding some more 'in between' piano keys. How should we work out what 'extra' keys to include? Well, there were multiple conventions, but we'll see there is some logic to it...

[You might ask, why are you spending so long on this historical system that is now considered obsolete? Well, intervals and their harmonious qualities are still really important in modern music, and it makes most sense to introduce them with the idea of 'small-integer ratios'.]

The semitone

We've seen if we build the 'major scale' using a bunch of 'nice' ratios, we have trouble playing other scales. The gap above may look rather haphazard and arbitrary, but hold on, we're working in exponential space here - shouldn't we be using a logarithmic scale? If I switch to a logarithmic x-axis, we suddenly get a rather appealing pattern...

All the gaps between successive notes are about the same size, except for the gap between E and F, and B and C, which are about half that size. If you try to work that out exactly, you run into the problems we saw above, where C to D is 9/8 or 1.125, but D to E is 10/9 or 1.11111... Even so, you can imagine how people who were playing around with sounds might notice, damn, these are nice even steps we have here. Though you might also notice places where, in this scheme, it's not completely even - for example G to A (ratio 10/9) is noticeably smaller than A to B (ratio 9/8).

We've obliquely approached the idea of dividing the octave up into 12 steps, where each step is about the size of the gap between E and F or B and C. We call each of these steps a 'semitone'. Two semitones make a 'whole tone'. We might fill in all the missing semitones in our scale here using whole-number ratios, which gives you the black keys on the piano. There are multiple schemes for doing this, and the ratios tend to get a bit uglier. In the system we've outlined so far, a 'semitone' is not a fixed ratio, even though it's always somewhere around 1.06.

The set of 12 semitones is called the 'chromatic scale'. It is something like the 'colour space' for Western music. When you compose a piece, you select some subset of the 12 semitones as your 'palette' - the 'scale of' a piece of music.

But we still have a problem here, which is the unevenness of the gaps we discussed above. This could be considered a feature, not a bug, since each scale would have its own 'character' - it's defined by a slightly different set of ratios. But it does add a lot of complication when moving between scales.

So let's say we take all this irregularity as a bug, and try to fix it. The solution is 'equal temperament', which is the idea that the semitone should always be the exact same ratio, allowing the instrument to play any scale you please without difficulty.

Posed like this, it's easy to work out what that ratio should be: if you want 12 equal steps to be an octave, each step must be the 12th root of 2. Which is an irrational number that is about 1.05946...

At this point you say, wait, Bryn, didn't you just start this all off by saying that the human ear likes to hear nice simple integer ratios of frequencies? And now you're telling me that we should actually use an irrational number, which can't be represented by any integer ratio? What gives? But it turns out the human ear isn't quite that picky. If you have a ratio of 7 semitones, or a ratio of 2^(7/12)=1.4983..., that's close enough to 1.5 to feel almost as good. And this brings a lot of huge advantages: you can easily move ('transpose') between different scales of the same type, and trust that all the relevant ratios will be the same.

Equal temperament was the eventual standard, but there was a gradual process of approaching it called stuff like 'well-tempered' or 'good temperament'. One of the major steps along the way was Bach's collection 'the well-tempered klavier', showing how a keyboard instrument with a suitable tuning could play music in every single established scale. Here's one of those pieces:

Although we're using these irrational numbers, inside the scale are certain intervals that are considered to have certain meanings - some that are 'consonant' and some that are 'dissonant'. We've already mentioned the 'fifth', which is the 'most consonant' ratio. The fifth consists of 7 semitones and it's roughly a 1.5 ratio in equal temperament. Its close cousin is the 'fourth', which consists of 5 semitones. Because it's so nice, the fifth is kind of 'neutral' - it's just there but it doesn't mean a lot on its own.

For the other important intervals we've got to introduce different types of scale.

The scale zoo

So, up above we introduced the 'major' scale. In semitones, the major scale is intervals of 2, 2, 1, 2, 2, 2, 1. This is also called a 'mode', specifically the 'Ionian mode'. There are seven different 'modes', representing different permutations of these intervals, which all have funky Greek names.

The major scale generally connotes "upbeat, happy, triumphant". There are 12 different major scales, taking the 12 different notes of the chromatic scale as the starting point for each one.

Next is the minor scale, which tends to feel more sad or mysterious. Actually there are a few different minor scales. The 'natural minor' goes 2, 1, 2, 2, 1, 2, 2. You might notice this is a cyclic permutation of the major scale! So in fact a natural minor scale is the same set of notes as a major scale. What makes it different?

Well, remember when we talked about tension and resolution? It's about how the notes are organised. Our starting note is the 'root' note of the scale, usually established early on in the piece of music - quite often the very first note of the piece. The way you move around that root note determines whether the piece 'feels' major or minor. So every major scale has a companion natural minor scale, and vice versa. The set of notes in a piece is enough to narrow it down to one minor and one major, but you have to look closer to figure out which one is most relevant.

The 'harmonic minor' is almost the same, but it raises the second-last note (the 7th) a semitone. So its semitone intervals are 2, 1, 2, 2, 1, 3, 1.

The 'melodic minor' raises both the 6th and 7th by one semitone, (edit: but usually only on the way up). So its semitone intervals are 2, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 1. (edit: When you come back down you tend to use the natural minor.)

If you talk about a 'minor scale' unqualified, you mean the natural minor. It's also the 'Aeolian mode' in that system of funky Greek names I mentioned earlier.

So that leads to a set of 24 scales, a major and minor scale for every semitone. These are the most common scale types that almost all Western tonal music is written in.

But we ain't done. Because remember I said there were all those other "modes"? These are actually just cyclic permutations of the major scale. There's a really nerdy Youtube channel called '8-bit music theory' that has a bunch of videos analysing them in the context of videogame music which I'm going to watch at some point now I finally have enough background to understand wtf he's talking about.

And of top of that you have all sorts of other variants that come from shifting a note up or down a semitone.

The cast of intervals

OK, so we've established the idea of scales. Now let's talk intervals. As you might guess from the 'fifth', the intervals are named after their position in the scale.

Let me repeat the two most common scale modes, in terms of number of semitones relative to the root note:

position: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 major: 0, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 12 minor: 0, 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10, 12

So you can see the fourth and fifth are the same in both. But there's a difference in three places: the third, the sixth, and the seventh. In each case, the minor is down a semitone from the major.

The interval names are... not quite as simple as 'place in the scale', but that's mostly how it works. e.g. the 'major third' is four semitones and the 'minor third' is three.

The fourth and fifth, which are dual to each other (meaning going up a fifth takes you to the same note as going down a fourth, and vice versa) are called 'perfect'. The note right in between them, an interval of 6 semitones, is called the 'tritone'.

(You can also refer to these intervals as 'augmented' or 'diminished' versions of adjacent intervals. Just in case there wasn't enough terminology in the air. See the table for the names of every interval.)

So, with these names, what's the significance of each one? The thirds, sixths and sevenths are important, because they tell us whether we're in minor or major land when we're building chords. (More on that soon.)

The fifth and the octave are super consonant, as we've said. But the notes that are close to them, like the seventh, the second and even more so the tritone, are quite dissonant - they're near to a nice thing and ironically that leads to awkward ratios which feel uncomfy to our ears. So generally speaking, you use them to build tension and anticipation and set up for a resolution later. (Or don't, and deliberately leave them hanging.)

Of course all of these positions in the scale also have funky Latin names that describe their function.

There's a lot more complicated nuances that make the meaning of a particular interval very contextual, and I certainly couldn't claim to really understand in much depth, but that's basically what I understand about intervals so far.

Our goofy-ass musical notation system

So if semitones are the building block of everything, naturally the musical notation system we use in the modern 12TET era spaces everything out neatly in terms of semitones, right?

Right...?

Lmao no. Actually sheet music is written so that each row of the stave (or staff, the five lines you write notes on) represents a note of the C major scale. All the notes that aren't on the C major scale are represented with special symbols, namely ♯ (read 'sharp') which means 'go up a semitone', and ♭ (read 'flat') which means 'go down a semitone'. That means the same note can be notated in two different ways: A♯ and B♭ are the same note.

The above image shows the chromatic scale, notated in two different ways. Every step is exactly one semitone.

Since a given scale might end up using one of these 'in between' notes that has to be marked sharp or flat, and you don't want to do that for every single time that note appears. Luckily, it turns out that each major/minor scale pair ends up defining a unique set of notes to be adjusted up or down a semitone, called the 'key signature'. So you can write the key signature at the beginning of the piece, and it lasts until you change key signature. For example, the key of 'A♭ major' ends up having four sharps:

There is a formula you can use to work out the set of sharps or flats to write for a given key. (That's about the point I checked out on musictheory.net.)

There is some advantage to this system, which is that it very clearly tells you when the composer intends to shift into a different scale, and it saves space since with the usual scales there are no wasted lines. But it's also annoyingly arbitrary. You just have to remember that B to C is only a semitone, and the same for E to F.

What are those weird squiggly symbols? Those are 'clefs'. Each one assigns notes to specific lines. The first one 𝄞 is the 'treble clef', the second one 𝄢 is the 'bass clef'. Well, actually these are the 'G-clef' and the 'F-clef', and where they go on the stave determines note assignment, but thankfully this has been standardised and you will only ever see them in one place. The treble clef declares the lines to be E G B D F and the bass clef G B D F A.

There is also a rarer 'C-clef' which looks like 𝄡. This is usually used as the 'Alto clef' which means F A C E G.

This notation system seems needlessly convoluted, but we're rather stuck with it, because most of the music has been written in it already. It's not uncommon for people to come up with alternative notations, though, such as 'tabs' for a stringed instrument which indicate which position should be played on each string. Nowadays on computers, a lot of DAWs will instead use a 'piano roll' presentation which is organised by semitone.

And then there's chords.

Chords! And arpeggios!

A chord is when you play 3 or more notes at the same time.

Simple enough right? But if you wanna talk about it, you gotta have a way to give them names. And that's where things get fucking nuts.

But the basic chord type is a 'triad', consisting of three notes, separated by certain intervals. There are two standard types, which you basically assemble by taking every other note of a scale. In terms of semitones, these are:

Major triad: 0 - 4 - 7 Minor triad: 0 - 3 - 7

Then there's a bunch of variations, for example:

Augmented: 0 - 4 - 8 Diminished: 0 - 3 - 6 Suspended: 0 - 2 - 7 (sus2) or 0 - 5 - 7 (sus4) Dominant seventh: 0 - 4 - 7 - 10 Power: 0 - 7

There is a notation scheme for chords in pop, jazz, rock, etc., which starts with a root note and then adds a bunch of superscripts to tell you about any special features of a chord. So 'C' means the C Major triad (namely C,E,G) and 'Cm' or 'c' means the C Minor triad (namely C,E♭,G).

In musical composition, you usually tend to surround the melody (single voice) with a 'chord progression' that both harmonises and creates a sense of 'movement' from one chord to another. Some instruments like guitar and piano are really good at playing chords. On instruments that can't play chords, they can still play 'arpeggios', which is what happens if you take a chord and unroll it into a sequence of notes. Or you play in an ensemble and harmonise with the other players to create a chord together. Awww.

Given a scale, you can construct a series of seven triad chords, starting from each note of the scale. These are generally given scale-specific Roman numerals corresponding to the position in the scale, and they're used to analyse the progression of chords in a song. I pretty much learned about this today while writing this post, so I can't tell you much more than that.

Right now, that's about as far as I've gotten with chords. On a violin, you can play just two strings at the same time after all - I never had much need to learn about them so it remains a huge hole in my understanding of music. I can't recognise chords by ear at all. So I gotta learn more about them.

As much as I wrote this for my own benefit... if you found this post interesting, let me know. I might write more if people find this style of presentation appealing. ^^'

[valwrites-stuff]

Hii Val, was wondering if you could do a Kirk smut, maybe distracting him as he's playing guitar??

This turned out to be quite long, hopefully this is what you had in mind 😊

Chords of desire

Kirk Hammett x Reader ☆ smut, light degradation

On a lazy and rainy Sunday afternoon, the sound of Kirk's guitar filled the cozy living room. He sat on the couch, his fingers moving swiftly across the strings, his brow furrowed in concentration. As I watched him from afar, I couldn't help but smile at his determination.

Occasionally, a swear word would escape his lips as he messed up a note or a riff. I chuckled to myself, knowing that Kirk was a perfectionist when it came to his music. He would never admit it, but I could tell that he was getting frustrated with himself.

I debated whether to suggest that he take a break, but I knew he would just brush off my suggestion in that moment of creativity striking. Kirk was the type of person who would push himself to the limit, constantly striving to improve and perfect his craft.

The rain continued to patter against the window, creating a soothing backdrop to Kirk's music. The room was filled with a sense of calm and contentment, despite Kirk's occasional outbursts of frustration.

I watched as he closed his eyes, lost in the music he was creating. His fingers danced across the strings, creating beautiful melodies that filled the room.

As Kirk sat there, playing guitar, he looked beautiful with his eyes closed, soft features focusing on the melody that came from the instrument in his hands and I couldn't help but admire him, feeling a familiar need and craving for him coming up inside of me as I kept watching my boyfriend.

Feeling bored with nothing to do, I imagined what me and Kirk could be doing instead of him being occupied by his holy grail and I bit my lip as I kept peering at him, horniness now added to my boredom.

With each strum of the guitar strings, Kirk's fingers danced across the fretboard with a rhythmic precision that seemed almost hypnotic to watch. The high notes reverberated through the air, mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from the kitchen.

His profile was a study in concentration, the occasional wisp of dark hair brushing against his cheeks.

Lost in the music, Kirk remained oblivious to my intense gaze, my mind racing with fantasies of how I'd rather have him occupied - perhaps tangled in the sheets, his body slick with sweat as I explored every inch of him. A flush crept up my neck, heat pooling between my thighs as my imagination ran wild.

A smirk suddenly appeared on my face as I made my way over to the sofa where Kirk sat with his guitar, stopping behind him. I gently wrapped my arms around his neck, making him stop mid-riff.

"Baby, I'm kind of occupied right now." He told me, no intend to remove the instrument from his hands.

"I know, but I'm bored." I pouted as my lips found his neck, placing a tender kiss on his exposed skin.

Kirk couldn't help but sigh as I began to pepper his neck with kisses, his fingers pausing over the strings as I continued my little attack on him. "Hey, I'm trying to practice, we have a gig in two days."

"I know, but I'm sure you could use a little break don't you?" I tried again but Kirk was stubborn and shook his head.

Kirk's resistance only seemed to fuel my desire, the challenge of getting him to put down his beloved guitar. My kisses trailed up his neck, breath hot against his ear as I whispered, "Come on, Kirk, just ten minutes. I promise I won't distract you for too long."

Despite my coaxing, Kirk remained steadfast, his grip on the instrument unyielding. I could sense the tension in his body, a battle between his dedication to the music and the undeniable pull of my touch. It was almost enough to make me give up...almost.

Instead, I decided to take a different approach. I shifted to bypass the sofa and took a seat right next to Kirk, getting comfortable, propping my head up as I watched him with a smirk.

Seeing me sit down beside him, Kirk's focus wavered for just a split second before he quickly regained it, not wanting to let me break his concentration. He felt my eyes on him, watching every move he made, studying him.

The way I was smirking didn't go unnoticed either. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly upwards into a small smile that was quickly suppressed. Despite the nervousness bubbling within him, he kept playing, his fingers dancing across the strings with practiced ease.

Kirk glanced over at me again, his gaze lingering longer this time. My proximity was making it harder for him to concentrate, but he refused to give in. "Babe, I told you I need to practice. Whatever you want right now can wait."

"Alright, then I just stay here and watch."

I said and tried to behave for the moment, waiting for Kirk to continue his essential task before teasingly sliding a hand up his thigh.

Kirk sighed deeply, his frustration evident in the tightening of his jaw. He shifted uncomfortably under my touch, feeling a mix of annoyance and anticipation. His fingers continued their rhythmic dance across the guitar strings, the soft melody filling the room.

His mind however was elsewhere, on my teasing hand slowly creeping up his thigh.

Kirk gave me a stern look, lips set in a firm line as he reached out, placing his hand over mine. He gave it a firm squeeze, a silent warning for me to back off. "This is the last warning."

Kirk maintained his composure, the stern look never leaving his face. Yet, despite his words, there was a hint of anticipation in his voice.

Testing the waters to tease him even more, I pushed my body closer to his, pressing myself against his side. My free hand moved up to his chest, nails lightly dragging across his shirt as I leaned in closer. My lips brushed against his ear as I whispered, "Or what? What are you going to do, stop playing?"

My other hand continued its upward journey, moving higher on his thigh until it was dangerously close to the bulge forming in his pants covered by the instrument in his lap.

"Okay, enough!" Kirk suddenly stopped plucking the strings and grabbed my wrist harshly with a threatening expression before putting his guitar aside. "Since you're that fucking needy, get on your knees."

My eyes widened at Kirk's abrupt command, but a thrill of excitement coursed through me as I quickly complied, sinking to my knees in front of him on the carpeted floor.

As I gazed up at him, Kirk's gaze was intense, a mix of dominance and desire. His free hand reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch surprisingly gentle considering the stern tone he'd used earlier. "Look at me," he commanded quietly.

When I met his eyes, he tilted my chin up with his thumb, studying my face intently. After a moment, he leaned down, his lips hovering just inches from mine.

"That's what you wanted, right? Choking on my fucking dick," he murmured against my mouth.

Kirk's words sent a shiver down my spine and I nodded, the raw lust in his voice making my core clench with anticipation. As he spoke, his hand deftly unbuckled his belt, then unzipped his jeans. He pulled them and his boxers down just enough to free his throbbing erection, not bothering to remove the garments fully.

The thick length sprang forth and Kirk wrapped his fingers around it, giving himself a few slow strokes as he continued to hold my gaze captive. "Open wide, baby," he growled, guiding his cock toward my parted lips. "Take every inch like a good and needy girl."

The dominant command in his tone left no room for argument and I pushed my lips down his shaft, slowly with just the right amount of pressure to leave him gasping at my eagerness.

Kirk's sharp intake of breath rewarded my careful technique as my warm, wet mouth enveloped his cock. Moaning low in his throat, Kirk tangled his fingers in my hair, guiding me along his impressive length.

I relaxed my throat, allowing him to slide deeper into the silky constriction. Each inch felt thicker than the last, stretching my lips and pressing insistently against the inside of my mouth. "Fuck yes, just like that," Kirk groaned, eyes rolling back in bliss.

I sucked on his cock like a slut before letting go only to lick my way up his length, taking the tip into my mouth with gentle force, my lips engulfing him, tongue teasing the head until it got too much.

Kirk abruptly yanked me off his cock, a string of saliva connecting my lips to the glistening head for a fleeting moment before breaking. He leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, his breathing ragged, and glared down at me with a mixture of frustration and dark hunger. "Strip. Now."

I hesitated for a second, as I stared up at him but swiftly began peeling off my top, revealing the sheer lacy fabric beneath. Kirk's gaze raked over my exposed skin, his chest rising and falling with each deepening breath.

Once my upper body was bare, he pointed to my shorts. "Everything," he demanded, his eyes never leaving mine.

As I leisurely stepped out of my shorts and panties, I watched Kirk shed his clothes off his lower body rapidly, unclad legs spread in front of me, cock standing tall, before he forcefully pulled me into his lap with a mischievous smile.

As soon as my naked form settled onto Kirk's muscular thighs, his hands roamed over my curves, mapping every inch of exposed skin. His fingers danced along my spine, sending shivers down my back, before dipping between my breasts to tweak and pinch my nipples into hard peaks.

"Mmm beautiful. That's what you wanted, right?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear as he nipped at the lobe.

With that, I nodded eagerly and he shifted me slightly, positioning me directly above his throbbing erection. The head nudged against my slick entrance, teasing and probing for entry.

My hips instinctively rocked forward, seeking more contact, more friction.

Kirk chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through me. "Impatient little thing, aren't you?"

I blinked as our eyes met before reaching down between our bodies to align him with my dripping mound. As I sunk down on Kirk's length, I gasped audibly, his hungry gaze tracing my curves before bending down to eagerly kiss my breasts as we started moving.

Kirk's lips trailed fiery paths across my chest, pausing to suckle at a pert nipple while his hips surged upward, driving himself deeper inside of me. Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through my senses, making my inner walls clench around him in response.

My hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on my breasts. Lost in the haze of lust, I began to ride him with increasing urgency, my movements becoming more desperate with every little pant slipping from my lips.

Kirk met each downward plunge with a corresponding upward thrust, creating a primal rhythm that seemed to synchronize our very beings.

Eventually, he broke away from my breast, his eyes blazing with intensity as he captured my mouth in a searing kiss.

Kirk wrapped his arms around me tightly as he passionately moved his plush lips against mine, tongues twining around each other and I could only moan into the kiss, overwhelmed from all the pleasure.

As the passionate kiss deepened, Kirk's tongue dominated mine, claiming my mouth just as his cock claimed my body.

He swallowed my moans, drinking in my pleasure like the finest wine. One hand slid down to grip my hip, guiding my movements as I rode him harder and faster.

The new angle allowed him to hit that special spot inside of me with every thrust, sending jolts of electricity shooting up my spine. My nails raked down his back, leaving red lines in their wake as I clung to him desperately.

Breaking the kiss, Kirk buried his face in the crook of my neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there. He marked me as his, branding me with his passion.

"Kirk, I'm getting close!" I whimpered, my nerve endings on fire as I felt him all around me, electrified by every kiss, touch and movement.

"That's it," he growled against my throat, his voice rough with desire. "Take what you need. Let go for me."

At my breathless admission, Kirk's grip on my hips tightened almost painfully as he increased the force and speed of his thrusts. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with my escalating moans and cries of pleasure.

"I've got you," he panted against your skin, his words punctuated by sharp thrusts. "Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you fall apart on my cock."

One hand snaked between our sweat-slicked bodies, finding my aching clit. He circled the sensitive nub with ruthless precision, pushing me closer and closer to the brink of oblivion.

My inner muscles fluttered and clenched around him, the coil of tension in my core winding tighter and tighter until finally, it snapped. Ecstasy exploded through me in a blinding wave, my vision whiting out as I came undone in his arms.

I cried out in delight as the orgasm hit me, Kirk panting into my ear, an angelic sound as I saw stars before my eyes, my head dizzy as I felt him plunge into me from beneath to chase his release like a desperate man.

Kirk moaned deeply as he felt my pussy clamp down on him, milking his shaft with rhythmic contractions. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer under the onslaught of my intense pleasure.

With a final thrust, Kirk buried himself to the hilt inside of me, his cock pulsating as he unleashed a torrent of hot seed deep within my spasming channel, marking me irrevocably as his.

As the aftershocks subsided, Kirk collapsed back against the couch, pulling me into his embrace. He cradled me against his chest, his heart still racing from the force of his climax. "Fuck, that was incredible," he breathed, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head.

"I knew you couldn't resist me. You're so easy to distract." I chuckled breathlessly as I leaned my naked body against Kirk as he slipped out of me.

Kirk smirked at my playful accusation, his arms wrapping around me possessively as he held me close. "Easy to distract? Maybe. But impossible to ignore when you're this irresistible."

[thursdaygxrls]

Hello! Can I request for tasm!peter parker (maybe taking place at the school or something) where he meets the reader who has a band? Like they are always tapping their pencil and muttering songs and they become friends and he ends up going to their show?? THANK YOU!!!

ahhh i love this request!! i used to be in a band, so this is like a repressed fantasy. also, i sort of imagined this band as being rock/soft punk, i'm sorry if that wasn't the intended genre

At the Roboto

summary — gen-ed classes really suck, but a pencil tapper provides peter with a great distraction.

pairing — college!peter parker x drummer!gn!reader

disclaimer — as always, i don’t own peter (wish i did)

warnings — unedited (literally always is)

The Roboto Club was not a place Peter thought he'd ever find himself. It was small, stuffy, and definitely sticky. The walls were covered in stickers and signatures of bands who had played there (as well as patrons who'd come up with some very colorful insults). The thumping of music filled his ears as his body was jostled by those around him. As he tried to force himself to not freak out from the overstimulation, he made himself remember why he was here:

Gen-ed courses were the worst. Peter had already earned a semester’s worth of college credits in high school, but it wasn’t enough to save him from the agonizing hour and a half long lectures about the Industrial Revolution. His one saving grace had come in the form of a chewed-up number two pencil tapping against the desk next to him.

From the first day of class, he could hear it. Rhythmic pulses of the eraser followed by the staccato of the graphite. He'd glanced over, seeing the owner of the pencil lazily watching the lecture, busy clicking the utensil against the desk instead of writing. He had always assumed it was some sort of nervous tick of theirs until he paid more attention to the beat. There was a pattern to it--the thump of the eraser and the click of the graphite.

Thump. Thump-thump, click-click. Thump. Thump-thump, click-click.

It was a month into the course when he noticed that no matter how it may change, they always held a steady beat with the pencil. It was around this same time when he began hearing the humming. Peter thought he was hearing things at first from how quiet it was. It was too melodic to be an insect, so the bee-theory was ruled out quickly. When he listened in a little closer, he was able to find that the faint noise he was hearing had been coming from the Pencil-Tapper.

When deep in concentration, they had the tendency to hum under their breath. It was like they didn't even notice. They would be moving from typing out notes on their laptop to scribbling on a post-it when they'd start mumbling out a soft melody. Though it was rare, sometimes these murmured melodies would align with the beat of their pencil.

Peter had always been known to be a star student, no matter how boring a class may be, but this Pencil-Tapper was a welcome reprieve from the monotonous lecture he was subjected to twice a week. It was nothing more than innocent interest, of course. No creepy stalking or constant surveillance. Just a way to pass the time as the professor droned on.

Two months into the class, the first lecture of the week had just ended. As always, Peter and the Pencil-Tapper packed their stuff away in humdrum routine. What was different, though, was when the Tapper's pencil fell from their desk. It rolled slowly enough that it hit the ground without a sound, but, of course, Peter heard it. His breath hitched.

He had two options: grab the pencil or ignore it entirely. The kind thing to do would be to return it, but the difficult part of that would be that he would have to return it. Chewing his lip, he looked down at it. It was so small, sharpened down to half its original size. Surely, they wouldn't mind missing something like that. When he looked up, he saw them already walking away. Damn his savior complex.

"Hey," Peter called, his fingers wrapped around the end of the pencil that wasn't ridden with bite marks, "You dropped this."

"Oh, thanks," Tapper's voice came out slow as they looked down at the pencil, "Gross. Sorry about that."

"No big deal." He shook his head, handing over the utensil with a small smile. They returned the grin and turned to exit when Peter interrupted with a small cough.

"Um—" Peter, you dumb, dumb kid, you have nothing to say, why the hell are you speaking? "—So, you tap a lot."

That seemed to catch them off guard. They stopped, letting students filter out of the classroom beyond them. With a quirk of their head, they began speaking again, "I didn't realize I was that loud."

"You're not!" Peter rushed out, "No, no, I just meant that sometimes I get bored, and I sort of tune in to your tapping. Not, like, in a weird way."

"I see," they tutted, "Well, I mean, if you're interested in the pencil tapping, maybe you'd like to hear it on the drums?"

Silence fell between them. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt more like a few hours. The gears in Peter's head turned a little slower than he was used to.

"That was a stupid question, sorry," Tapper let out a sheepish chuckle.

"Not at all," Peter replied quickly, "I just realized that you must've been tapping actual songs."

"Oh, yeah," they nodded, "I'm in a band—Dial 616? We're not big or anything."

"Cool," Peter grinned, regaining a fraction of his calm.

"We have a gig this Saturday at the Roboto. It's just off campus," they explained, "You could totally come if you want. I mean, if you're interested in hearing actual music, not just tapping."

And so he came. The Robot Club was located in a skinny building wedged between a record store and a laundromat. Admission was ten dollars, and there were a few acts. The music was loud and sort of overwhelming, but he held on. Somewhere between the second and third act, he wondered why he was subjecting himself to this. He was reminded when Dial 616 was introduced.

Tapper looked a lot different from the normal sweatpants and t-shirt he'd usually seen them in. Dramatic makeup had been painted on their face that had the illusion of changing color with the flashing of the club's LEDs. Ripped jeans, chunky black boots, a tank top, and two battered drumsticks finished off their outfit. There were four other members of the band, all in equally striking clothes. The crowd around Peter whooped in recognition as they took to the stage, introducing their first song.

They played a few originals and a few covers, Peter's favorite of which being their rendition of California Über Alles. Tapper was a force on the drums. Their face was drawn in utter concentration as they slammed away. They moved from precise beats to messy patterns all without ever losing control of the tempo or their sticks.

When their set was over, they hopped from the makeshift stage, leaving the borrowed instruments there for the next band. Peter was sure it wasn't concert etiquette to immediately follow them, but his body was moving on its own accord. He threaded through the people and to the clump that formed around the band. Maybe they weren't huge yet, but there were still a lot of people bombarding them with screams and hollers of excitement. He noticed Tapper at the end of the of the band members, smiling as they signed someone's arm with a sharpie. When they were done, they looked up, and just like fate, their eyes met Peter's.

"Hey!" They greeted, their voice loud over the already booming music of the next band, "You came. I didn't think you would."

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

"Well, because we only talked once. And you don't know my name, and I don't know yours," they said. Their tone held no malice or condescension, just the aftershocks of adrenaline from being on stage.

"I'm Peter." He had to yell to be heard.

"Y/n," they replied. There was another moment of standstill silence. This time, though, it wasn't awkward. It would actually be calm if not for the thunderous clash of drums behind them.

"I have to go, but, uh, we were gonna go out for pizza if you wanted to come?" Y/n suggested, their behavior suddenly coy in contrast with their appearance.

"Yeah—okay," Peter grinned. They offered him one last smile before disappearing with the rest of the band. Gen-ed actually wasn't that bad after all.

a/n — me 🤝 making up nicknames for the reader

taglist

@reidslovely @iamliterallyspidergwen

[creepingwaves]

Is dancing synesthesia?

You're aware of the neurological phenomenon called synesthesia, right? It's a blending of different senses, hearing colors or tasting textures, etc. You might be turning a piece of clay on a wheel and hear specific frequencies when you create certain shapes or textures. You might hear specific notes on a piano as specific colors. And different individuals will very likely hear different colors for the same note: one person's bright yellow B-flat might be dark blue for someone else. It seems to vary quite a bit from person to person, even for individuals with similar types of synesthetic overlap.

We're not entirely sure what causes it, but psychedelic drugs and certain brain injuries can sometimes induce these experiences. It also just happens naturally in about 2-4% of humans (which is roughly in line with the percentage for a lot of other neurodivergences btw). If there's a specific genetic marker for synesthetic experience, we haven't found it yet. As far as I can tell from a cursory internet browse, we don't really know the root cause of synesthetic experience, but it offers an interesting avenue of research because it can help us map out a lot of the edge cases of human consciousness: What exactly is happening in our brains when our senses are pushing against their usual boundaries?

What I'm proposing here is that (maybe) a rather large subset of the human population experiences a form of synesthesia when they hear music and then feel the impulse to dance. This kind of synesthesia takes rhythmic auditory inputs and processes them through proprioception (the sensation of the position of your body and limbs, the amount of force you're using when you open a jar, the weirdly intuitive feeling of squeezing through a tight space just barely wide enough to accommodate your body, etc.)

It happens on such a widespread scale that we typically just call this synesthetic experience "having rhythm". Some people can feel the music and naturally move along to the beat, but a big chunk of humanity just doesn't seem to be able to do it. Like, if you can dance or play the drums, then you probably have the mutation that causes the rhythm synesthesia experience. Or maybe the actual mutation is the people who can't feel rhythm?

I'm assuming that it's pretty difficult to get fMRI scans of somebody's brain while they're dancing, but there's probably a ton of research using fMRI scans while people listen to music. Hopefully there are some brilliant neuroscientists out there who can explain to me why my synesthesia theory is completely wrong or point me to some cool research about human perception of rhythm or somesuch. Anyway, thanks for reading, and please be peaceful.

[mausuwinasa]

Things I like abt every Side Order level track bc this is one of my fav OSTs of all time!!!

I have lots of thoughts abt the music in this game so I’m gonna just spit all of them out in this one giant post :3 90% of this will make sense only to me, also keep in mind I have synesthesia so I mention colors a lot when I talk abt music. I’m sorting these based on level type and talking abt each track individually.

d3mol12h

1. Simple and empty, much like the early levels! It creates a nice base to transition into the other tracks from. The detuning on the synths and ticking percussion remind me of a certain Purple Kiss song.

2. This track is genuinely beautiful. The organs (??) in the background give it an oddly emotional feel for such an intense song. The pinks and purples of the synths stand out well against the neutral colors of the in-game stages and enemies. It’s like the musical embodiment of a noble sacrifice! I’d put it on my nuzi playlist if it were on Spotify, smh…

3. Now it really feels like the difficulty has ramped up! The drums here are really interesting, I love the syncopation on some parts. They were also present in the second version, but I didn’t want to drag out the notes for that one any longer. The less intense parts are awesome, and I love how they get aggressively interrupted by the synths! It matches the gameplay very well.

rout1n32

1. Probably my least favorite track, but still pretty neat. I like how the same sample gets “recontextualized” into different chords, if that makes any sense. It has a bright and sunny feeling to it!

2. Metal pipe falling sound… basically just a more intense version of the first track. I like those weird ascending sound effects, they remind me of bubbles. They’re also kinda weird rhythmically, making them a ton of fun to listen to! There’s a tiny little piano sample in a certain part of it that I just noticed, and I really like for some reason.

3. GOOD LORD this song sounds like pure fear and absolutely slaps. The metal pipe has been multiplied thousands of times. Definitely a good encapsulation of the emotions most players feel upon entering Cruel_Sisyphean_Eight-Shaped.Floor.

2ouv3n1r

1. Great use of emptiness. The vocal samples sound almost corporate, a great representation of the conformist world Order is trying to create. Almost puts you to sleep, much like the early ♾️-ball levels do! Hardy har har.

2. The weird, distorted sounds, contrasted with the more relaxing parts with the lovely “wah-wah” synths make this a natural transition between the first and third tracks. I love how the repeated violin and flute sounds make a return here, but with slightly more complicated parts!

3. This song is fascinating AND very stress-inducing! It’s like the song itself is warning you about the 15 or so battering lentos currently trying to charge you. Watch out! Oh, and the less intense parts are GORGEOUS!!! The transition from a yellow to pink key reminds me of a beautiful tropical sunset. The subtle guitar part really adds to the vibe, and the descending chords are the perfect cherry on top for a lovely listening experience. They also contrast the rising synths of the chaotic parts well! It’s like a wink to the camera, a sly reminder that these tougher ♾️-ball levels are way easier than they look. Good lord I wrote for a long while on this…

j1tt3r2

1. Hmm, I don’t have much to say about this one, but I definitely like it a lot. The repeated piano samples feel almost awkward, like when you’re trying to explain your thought process to someone. Some parts of this song almost seem like miniature versions of the more ambient segments of the third track. Pretty neat!

2. I love just how weird the percussion on this is, it’s like it’s bouncing back and forth. The piano sample becomes more chopped up, and some of the beeping sounds that are more prominent in the third track start coming in, like the seeds are being planted for them.

3. Lovely intro! The abrasive synths quickly lead into another odd piano sample, like you’re swaying back and forth in a precarious spot. Almost like a more relaxed version of the vibe created by the percussion! I love the echoey ambient part in this too! There’s a certain element that sounds like someone coughing, which may sound very weird but I mean that as a compliment. The bleeps and bloops make me think of an old Game & Watch game.

j32t1ng

1. Some of the effects sound like dogs and cats to me. It makes the panicking alla mambos feel like skittish little animals, which they sort of are. The ascending beeping sounds are reminiscent of the player chasing them down. I really like the typewriter (??) sounds too! What is it with this game and abnormal percussion? I’ve gotten so much inspiration!

2. The animal-like sounds are still present. Some of the bitcrushed sounds remind me of the noises the enemies make. The meandering but relaxed melody in the beginning always feels fitting when I’m surveying the stage and planning out how I’ll achieve the objective.

3. I love this song! It just feels so cute and silly! The orchestra hit sounds are really neat. I like how the melodies often sound like circus music. I sure feel like a clown chasing down these stupid fish… the cute vibes of this song definitely make its levels feel like just a fun little game, which they certainly are! This has got to be one of my favorite tracks.

Alright that’s the end of my absurdly long post, if anyone wants to hear me rant abt the boss music just let me know because I’ve got plenty of thoughts on that too.

[psycheetamore]

Choosing to follow destiny

Chapter 19 - Boundless freedoms, sexual and otherwise

Pre notes with this chapter: First draft was Berlin underground rave culture inspired smut. Second and third draft: just decided to go overboard. Over 6k words of smut. I am sorry, I can’t lie anymore, plot was defeated in this chapter. First published on AO3

Tags: MDNI, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Is His Own Warning, the typical Feyd tags (smut, violance, non-con/rape etc), imaginary suicide, see for full tags: chapter 1 - the author regrets nothing

Word count: 6.1k (nearly all smut....)

Link to previous chapter

+++

Where the other room did not hold any direct outside light, other than what seeped in through the glass ceiling, this room had windows barred with shutters. Corners held large bowls filled with all types of candy, including many of the bombs, one of which was still lingering in her body. Lounge areas and bar stools were scattered around the sides of the room, with a relatively small mass of people moving in organic ways while facing the director of sounds.

She was taken to sit on a platform overlooking the crowd, after which the na-Baron took off. This platform supported a 3 by 3-meter lounge bed with four posters and an upper panel. On the sides see-through curtains were tied to the pillars. Sitting allowed her a moment to observe her surroundings.

People were dancing, dancing alone, dancing with another person, dancing with multiple people. The guests were close to each other, close enough to feel each other’s aura, to bump into each other, to touch, to feel, to fondle, to kiss, to grope, to grab, to disrobe, to rub and push indiscriminately. In the previous room people moved like one, here people became one, or indulged each other’s presence to enjoy themselves by themselves. Everything was possible.

Sounds seemed to fade away, as she started to notice just how the couches were being used: as a place for exploration and play. For finding new acquaintances and improving relationships. Rhythmic movements, caressing of all different body parts, feet in the air, breasts uncovered, moans, women riding men surrounded by people pleasuring themselves, screeches of climaxes, men holding women’s hips thrusting while being touched by others, women kissing every body part getting near their mouths, screams of pleasure, men licking entire limbs covered by fluids, people tied up, walking on leashes, being spanked. All with masks, nobody recognisable, all hierarchy left at the door.

Democracy in a dictatorship.

Bodily smells of passion hit her nose, and not just from what she had been gifted by the young lord.

One human mass copulating in unison, and she was in the mid of it. It was unreal. It must be unreal. But is was not: this is Giedi Prime.

She wanted to become one with them.

Feyd-Rautha had crept up behind her, massaging her shoulders, his sultry voice asked: “do you like what you see?” She did not respond, still being mesmerised. Kissing her neck, he added: “this is a place of absolute freedom.” He pressed his fingers in her shoulders, almost painfully: “but not for you, you are mine and mine alone. I do not share” he said with a raspy voice. A husky, dark, enticing voice. His hands, is mouth, the warm tongue and words coming from it. Being claimed by all of this. The music. The state of mind. It was so much.

She stood up, still with her back towards him, and took a step towards the crowd. He scooted to the end, to have her within reach. His arms surrounding her hips he said: “don’t fight it, embrace it. Learn who you are. Show me who you are.” Continuing with a nearly silky soft voice, as he placed his chin on her shoulder from which she could feel the vibrations while he spoke: “there is nothing wrong with a little, little fun.”

She turned around, causing him to let go. After staring at him for a moment, she pushed her heeled foot on his chest: “take it off, Feyd.”

She was not even curious to see how he would respond. This came from deep in her. He would need to oblige. She would not accept anything else.

He stroked her foot, while she felt his gaze burning from her foot, alongside her leg to under her skirt, up to her chest and to her eyes. His mind was running wild, there was no way he could hide that. He could not hide his smirk.

He was not refusing her, but he was also not complying.

She pushed the heel a bit harder in his chest, causing him to growl and shift his focus to what he needed to do. The sight of him carefully removing her shoe and kissing her foot pleased her. She presented the other foot, the one with the starshaped birthmark, for the same treatment, and was treated with a bonus of him licking the bottom of her foot, sticking his tongue between her toes, allowing her toes to rest in his mouth.

Having the lord na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, sole successor to the Harkonnen throne, being reduced like this before her eyes, it made her feel powerful. It inspired her. It aroused her. There was no rush, she would be savouring every moment of this.

This night she would aim to discover how far she could push the Harkonnen heir. To create some balance in the chaos he had cast her in.

Feyd-Rautha felt her foot retracting from his mouth, and was ordered to stand up and stand still. Yaina climbed on the matrass behind him, to start to unclothe him. Nothing blocked the sights between them and the group fucking at their feet. His cape fell to the ground, his shirt and belt following, displaying his muscular pale physic to his subjects. Any one of them, if they had paid attention during his games, or more importantly: were paying attention to anything else than their own pleasure and others people’s flesh at this very moment, should be able to recognise him, despite his face covering. His strong arms, his sculpted shoulders and chest, his chiselled torso, the absence of any scars on his pristine nearly white exterior: only one person on this planet could claim this perfection.

He felt her hands act as her eyes, as they touched every bit of his bare skin. Electricity rushed across his back.

Soon after, his trousers fell to his feet; she conquered this challenge quicker than he had earlier that day. The only thing protecting his limited modesty was his wrapped loin cloth. His arousal had been present for some while.

There and then he decided he would not be the one to withdraw first. He would not back down. He could take whatever she had to offer. It was not like she could decide to opt out if anything he put her through. If the crowd were to see him, than they would worship him in all his glory.

He was waiting for the moment his last bit of modesty was removed, but it did not come. She leaned over him and whispered in his ear: “kneel, lord na-Baron.” Before he could object to this formal way of addressing him, she had shoved him to the ground. Defiance in the form of acknowledging his status. Defiance, as it emphasised how she had the heir to this Great House subdued in front of her.

It took a lot of his patience to accept this, until he saw she stood in front of him again and ordered him to remove the bands on her wrists and ankles.

He knew she understood what he needed, and gave it to him in free will, despite being a captive he had drugged. Bombs removed filters; they did not alter personalities but uncovered inner workings. She would learn that.

He felt her hand around his neck, forcing him to stand up again. She claimed his mouth, before he was shoved on his back. As he moved up to be fully supported, she climbed on the platform.

There she noticed ropes hanging from the ceiling and carbines within the matrass on the platform. He saw in her eyes that she only now found out what he had planned to do with her, considering the bracelets he gave her. He did not know whether to feel fear or delight.

Her hands cupped his face as she crouched over him and said with a menacing voice: “I believe I overturned your plans, my dear lord. This will not be for today. Today you are mine. I too do not share.”

She removed herself from the bed, grabbed the discarded bands and threw them on his chest. Before saying anything, she sat on top of him, with only a few layers of cloths acting as last remaining fort to be concurred between them. While she removed her cape, she said: “you know what to do with those, lord Harkonnen” as she slapped his face with her open palm.

It took everything in him not to claim her that very moment, to enact what he had planned and to spill everything he had left in her. At the same time, although it went differently than he had planned on detail level, he did get something he wanted.

She did not make it easy for him to put himself in these could-be-cuffs, as she rode on him. Every fibre in him needed to concentrate to do as she wanted. New territories for a man used to being in absolute control.

Once he had completed this task, she connected the carbines to the rings of the cufflinks. He was bound to the bed and subject to her fantasies. He was extremely curious to see what she would do, despite his feelings of discomfort.

Yaina stood up to stand on the mattress and let the curtains down. At least she offered him some privacy. Prying eyes could still see, but it would be more difficult.

She took a moment to look at him, in all his submission to her. She allowed her foot to trail over his face, chest and loin, before stopping there. He noticed fear in himself that she would stomp, again, on him. But that did not happen.

She kneeled in front of him, placing her hands on his upper legs. He could see from the mirror above them that she looked at the bulge in front of her, covered by the last remaining coverings. It was clear she was in internal turmoil between excitement, authority and unfamiliarity. Her touches were not as fluent or determined as he was used to from other companions, which only fertilised the growth of his excitement. Her tender fingers scouted the fabric, as if to find out how to untie it. How he loved to see her struggle, although just for a short period.

She unwrapped him, as if he had concealed a present. She had seen his excitement before, but it seemed different now. Everything seemed different. Larger, grander, more imposing. No longer hidden he noticed her gulp. ‘Make me yours, become mine’ is what he thought. He couldn't wait for what was to happen and at the same time the night felt like it would be too short.

He felt her fingers glance over him, followed by his tip entering a warm and wet environment unchartered by other men in this pulsating state. Every step she took was considered, not showing any ease; the animalistic instincts still needed to kick in. Usually he would help his playmates, hold their heads, shows them the pace and depth required for his liking. They would find it menacing, but accepted it, being eager to please him. He couldn't help but test the strength of the bindings just ever so slightly. It would be good to have a back up option.

He was big. Long, girthy, veiny yet smooth, pale, throbbing, the tip already shining of anticipation. Physically impressive, as every part of him. She heard whispers of his pets, how they would satisfy him, that he would enshrine himself in their mouths, their throats. She was looking at him and simply could not understand how that was humanly possible. But she felt euphoric, victorious, capable. She would undertake this pursuit, and she would succeed. That is what she had always done, and now would not be any different. But still, where to begin. She had rendered him helpless, making it also impossible for him to help her. This would be her own quest.

She reconsidered her initial approach, and continued more strategic, by first mapping the area, before making any further decisions. He felt how she allowed her hands to roam, see how he would respond to her touches, trailing him, moving him, increasingly with rhythm to match his groans. The mirror showed she had stopped to reposition herself. He thought she would make her life so much easier by having him help her, but this was her rite, so he kept shut. The time would come to introduce her to his preferences.

Her tongue slid up and down his shaft, the same motion repeated with her lips, followed by a combination. She was clearly receptive to his cues, so giving him room to guide her. She let her tongue glance through and around his tip, seeing how far she could go in. She pulled the coverings away to expose the protected top.

His naked tip was smooth and round, dripping, almost like ripe fleshy fruit. A bacchanal it offered to be. It begged to be licked, sucked, eaten, have its juices captured and spilled all around her mouth. It had the fatal cry of the siren, drawing its victims in to never let go. She was lured in.

She lured him in. He felt so good inside her, warm, tongue lapsing, being sucked into her to be worshipped. He belonged there.

The tip and a bit extra, not to big, not too small. Manageable, sustainable. She could allow him to stay there forever. She allowed him to stay there, forever. It felt like forever. It took forever. She created her own trance for him.

He wanted to buck, he needed to buck. It was becoming too much and too little for him at the same time. He needed to be in her. But the restraints were holding him back.

That was not an option. No restrains would hold the lord na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen back. He did not train to have this strong monstrous body without reason. He had prepared to overcome unexpected circumstances, and this was no different.

However, he did not want to take her out of her reverie.

He needed to focus on the constraints to his wrists. He twisted and turned his arms, but the leather bands and their pins were well-made, which was good to know for future references. He could not get his hands together, to allow one hand to free the other. It was challenging to get himself freed without startling her. He tested the strength of the bolting to the platform, and found some give there. If he would find the right angle to leverage his underarm, he should be able to free himself.

It took a bit of wiggling and repositioning, but he found that angle. With a powerful thrust from his right arm and shoulder he had broken the bolt from the platform. Also good to know for future references. With one hand free it was easy freeing the other.

She had kissed more life in him than he had ever known, but he could not endure this any longer. Despite his efforts to be as subtle as possible, the entire matrass gave way while he dislocated the bolt.

She knew.

He did not waste any time removing the remaining bracelet from his wrist, as he wanted her. He wanted to be in her. How he longed to just reach out to grab her and hold her. Thrust himself in her, take her head and push her down on him. Her warmth, the heat in the back of her throat, the wetness. Feeling her gagging around him. Having two of the three her holes claimed on the same day, how he longed for that.

His intense growl did not go unnoticed, as she felt his hands resting on her shoulders. She could retreat to pre-empt what may happen, or she could see how this would play out. Whether he was in control of himself.

Both suddenly became aware how this would play out if he couldn't.

She would make a run for it, considering his legs were still bound. Trying to reach the ornithopter and take off. If that wouldn't work, she would have her weapons to use, towards him or others on her path. Any nascent trust would be nipped in the bud.

It pained him to let her be. It did not come easy. Softly touching her black hair, her cheeks, making all the right sounds to foster her playfulness. Not doing anything else; a first for him. Surrendering to a woman. A first.

The evidence that he succumbed voluntarily, it drove her wild. Even more than having his stealthy body chained to this bed.

It was time for a change.

She stood up, his hands accompanying her body as she rose on top of him. She wanted to let him know what he was doing to her. She removed her panties from under her skirt, went back to him and placed her knees on both sides of his torso. She grabbed one of his hands that had freed themselves, got two fingers to stand up and pushed them inside of her. “You will be my death, Feyd-Rautha.”

He sank back in satisfaction. So welcoming, heavenly, tempting. But this was nothing more than a precursor to a snack. He used his fingers to whisk her north, having his face align with the entrance of her pleasure. While his lips and tongue pried around the most intimate part of her body, he tasted her flavours laced with his. She had not removed his remembrance as per his demand, as she carried him along with her on this journey. While he dove into her and tried to dry her out, his paleness became covered with streaks of grey liquid. It delighted him to savour her.

As he was indulging himself, he felt the platform ditch to one of his sides.

It appeared someone decided to accompany them. It was not uncommon for him to entertain multiple women at the same time, and perhaps he was recognised. Who could refuse him.

He had difficulty preventing the girl on top of him to displace herself, so he needed to forcefully hold her legs and keep her still above his head while he continued to pleasure her. He could not care less what was happening around them.

He distilled some discussion, after which it turned silent.

Unexpectedly he felt hands nearing his nether region. This could not be Yaina. Without losing her grip on him, she turned to see what happened to her back. He forced her to face him and said: “why don’t you play the game?”

“Are you sure?” she asked with doubt.

“This is a game of love” he moaned as he continued on his quest. “Trust your instincts.”

It did not take long for him to get a look of the person who had sought him, as intense beautiful eyes were staring at him. Eyes that started to dispel blood. He shifted his focus and saw a knife cleaved in this girl.

To his amusement Yaina warned him: “I am not sharing, I am not negotiating. I made it clear that you are mine, and mine only. And she wouldn't accept it. I won this game, so here we are.”

She showed her colours, her inner workings. She fought over him. She killed to have him. She wanted him. She was such a good fit for him. “Good girl”, he mouthed, barely recognisable words. He extended his adjacent arm, grabbed the dagger, cleaned it on the bedding and handed it to his mistress, pushed the body on the floor, all while he delved his tongue deeper in her than ever before.

+++

After having received her reward, she moved down to face a stained Feyd-Rautha. Smilingly she leaned over him and kissed him, trying to wipe of the worst mess until he prevented her hand from advancing. Her claim lay clear on him, and he had embraced it.

She liked it.

In spirits on these new experiences, she continued further south, to unlock his feet.

She was planning on continuing her ride with him, but with this step she had unleashed the beast. Within a second after she removed the last cufflink, he had thrown her on her back. He did not take any time to remove her clothing, as he had grabbed her dagger and used it to tear everything open. His patience had been tested enough, tested to its very limits, and could now receive their bounty. Every part of his body had a mind of their own as he pinched her, bit her, licked her, sucked her, petted her, owned her.

His tongue claimed her mouth, which she opened widely to accept him. Their eyes locked, allowing him to see in her soul. It was his turn now to command, is what her submissive facial expression told him. He moved to his knees, hovering on top of her. While staring at her eyes, he cautiously linked his finger through the ring attached to her choker. The one leather accessory she did not have him remove. Slowly but surely, he used it to hoist her head up to meet his cock again. There was more of him he wanted to introduce her to.

She acknowledged this, as she wilfully opened her mouth to him and extended her tongue as if to lay a red carpet for him, without breaking their gaze.

He nearly came from the mere sight of the receptiveness of this killer towards him.

She closed her mouth and started sucking him. Following his glance to the ceiling, he introduced her to that feature as well. It was blissful.

Carefully he started to thrust in her. Not too deep, she was not yet advanced enough to give him the entire pleasure he craved for. That time would come. Not too fast, as he wanted to savour every moment.

Her eyes closed. She was enjoying this. The feeling of being the centre of his world, the main reason of his pleasure and obsession, his entire focus. He organised this lavish party, had thousands of people here, for the sole purpose to beg for his attention, yet he had only eyes for her. As far as she was concerned, he could fill her entire mouth, spill over, push it in her throat and further, and she would love it. A token of ownership it would be.

He looked at her. Saw how she was devouring him, her lips wet with saliva. He could not deny her.

Amid dozens if not hundred people fucking each other, he was claiming her. For everybody to see. A dead body being the stark reminder of their possession of each other.

He let go of the chain and grabbed her head, while looking deep in her eyes. He went harder, faster, further than before. He would give her what she wanted.

His precious seed would be spilled in her belly as a token of his dedication towards her.

She grabbed his firm butt to entice him to go deeper. It was not pain-free, it was not comfortable, but it was her demand on him. He could not refuse to accommodate her desire.

Before long warm liquid filled her mouth, coming from a moaning powerful man who could not keep his eyes from her, directed towards the deepest parts of her body.

+++

In the upcoming morning light, Feyd-Rautha flew Yaina back to the palace. He was trying to pay attention to steering the ornithopter, but she was still mischievous. Taunting him by throwing her feet on the dashboard and touching herself, trying to grope him, and after that did not work: tasting herself.

The bomb was still in her system, it appeared.

But still, he wondered whether it was truly still the result of these drugs, whether a placebo-effect had kicked in, or if he had just unlocked another part of her being.

Whatever it was, he liked it. Her stamina matched his.

+++

After he opened the door to the vehicle to get her out, he simply unlocked her safety belt and threw her over his shoulder. He smelled the delightful combination of her sweat, her inner moisture and himself coming from her uncovered core. Scents that showed a memorable soiree. Her dress was hoisted up just enough to allow him to gently touch the outer layer of where she had stored this delicious aroma, as well as the surrounding erogenous areas. Her slickness showed him she still had energy left, and her playfulness proved she was still adventurous enough.

He brought her to his chambers, after having bitten the outside of her thigh and slapped her buttocks a few times. He had an idea for a last encore, and managed to refrain himself from impulsive thoughts such as fucking her on the ornithopter pad, or pushing her against the walls of the corridors they passed in order to take her there. He wanted to try to introduce her to something new. He wanted to experience something he had not yet achieved, and which he hoped she may be receptive to.

As he gently laid her facing down on his bed, he asked: “do you trust me?” while hovering over her and blowing kisses on her neck.

He was being vague. She wanted to trust him, but she also knew he had his own little plans. She grabbed his face to create eye contact as she replied: “no bombs, no drugs, nothing. And when I want to stop, you stop.”

“Yes, my dear Yaina” he said with the voice of a punished boy. He both detested and loved her answer. Even though it showed her trust was not yet unrestrained, it also showed a level of clarity that gave him the answer to the question whether she was still being influenced by actual or perceived external influences; it was not. This was her. He had truly unlocked something in her. And that by itself required a lot of trust, coming from this woman that grew up continuously looking over her back.

He started to explain, while galivanting to the lower regions of her body: “a woman can be pleasured in different ways. Today, you have experienced several ways already. But there is one way you have not yet been served.”

She started to be alert. This could go in different directions.

As he massaged her lower back and behind, he said: “over the last months I have introduced you to physical peaks of pleasure. There are different sources of such climaxes. Some lay deep in your body, others are on the outside. One is in particularly well hidden. I would like to guide you to find that source, and I believe today is in particularly well suited to immerse you.”

“Feyd, you are speaking in riddles” with a combination of sunniness and fear in her voice.

“Just relax and open your mind, sweet girl” he purred, placing himself between her legs and fully uncovering her bottom.

He placed his right hand on her right side, continuing his massage, while pushing his index and middle finger of his left hand inside of her. He used the thumbs of both hands to spread her cheeks to allow his breath to softly find the uncovered path, as he slowly moved his fingers to stir the production of her delicious moisture. He would be needing a lot of that.

As he continued with this motion, his right thumb moved to the centre of her behind and started to apply very light pressure. After a moment he would relief that pressure, only to apply it again, just with the tiniest bit of additional weight. This process lasted for a while, until he felt a bit of space was provided to where this particular digit wanted to go.

She was still to protest, as only sweet little moans came from a meter higher.

He removed his left hand, to place this on her left buttock, laid himself behind her and created the room for his tongue to explore his new destination.

“Feyd?” a small voice asked.

“Yes, my dear” he responded, without moving his face, “are you enjoying this feeling?”

“Yes, but…”.

He interrupted: “then just surrender. Allow me to do what I do so well. What I enjoy doing, more than anything in this universe.”

She sighed, positioned herself a bit more comfortable, and decided to let happen what was to happen. He promised he would stop if she wanted. That was enough assurance.

He continued to scan, examine and probe, while massaging her behind. What a memorable day this was already, with so many first. And the end was not yet in sight. He noticed she had accepted his prodding, and seemed to become more relaxed. Although the bomb had worked out, it had loosened her up in multiple ways, allowing him to dig into her. With his tongue he could work in a very precise manner. Even more than when he initiated her in the more traditional forms of companionship, ensuring he was now providing an enjoyable experience with paramount to his own future fortune should he ever seek to repeat this pleasure.

When his tongue could not venture further, he ensured the surroundings were sufficiently wet to allow his righthand index finger to continue the works. By creating a smooth transition from mouth to hand, he heard a gasp, but no restraint. Carefully he added knuckle by knuckle, moving up and down softly but not leaving. Allowing for her to adapt to him. Only once he felt more room was given, did he implore her body to take another step.

By the time this finger was fully in, she was falling apart around him, quietly moaning his name, tenderly moving along with his movement and producing the liquids he needed. He hoisted himself up to look at the sight. This beautiful specimen, so eager to embrace what he had to offer. He did not force this upon her, she had no reason to pretend, this was all real.

It made him question how often he had encountered pure surrender to his skills. She made him want to shower her in everything he had to offer. She made him feel good. He had managed to turn his enemy, the person who should have vowed to kill him, to this delightful creature who killed for him, and all without breaking her. He had underestimated himself. He would die if he would lose her. So much more than just a pet.

“My sweetest, are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Owh Feyd…” followed by sounds that were not understandable. She was breaking down.

“We are just at the start of this exploration. There are a few steps that may hurt. I will be as careful as possible, my ambrosial delight. Can you handle that? It will be worth your while” as he continued to move and pet her insides.

Her respond was a mere moan. He took that as a yes. Pain was no concern to her, he had learned.

Using the same approach, he added a second finger, providing additional moisture through his mouth. She felt so tight around him. It made him hard of anticipation.

She continued to be receptive of his attention. All signs were still on green.

While maintaining his fingers in her, throbbing a bit less softly than before, he crouched over her and whispered in her ear: “I will need your help for the next bit.” She looked up to ask him ‘what next bit’, but was too far along to truly care about the answer. “I need you to sit straight up on your knees.” She grunted, but after he had nudged her a few times using his fingers in her, she complied. He removed his fingers, causing her to fully open her eyes again. “Don’t worry, I will be back soon” he purred.

While she sat with her back towards him, he removed the last of his clothing and covered his length with a copious amount of his spit. He pushed her forward on her hands as he placed digits of his left hand back in her to source more moisture. All, to allow him to claim her third hole that day.

She moaned and arched her back. He could not help but fold over her back, bite and lick her neck, massage her breasts and press himself against her. He had two options: he could drive himself in here while she presented herself so hospitable to him. He could also lie down to have her sit on him and guide the depth and speed of insertion. Would he be able to be slow and deliberate enough to go for the first option, or not.

He decided to ask her.

She responded with: “I trust you.”

The answer he had so desired, it drove him through the roof. If anything, he wanted to have her so much more fiercely than before he had raised the question. He needed to deliver.

He positioned himself between her legs, cherishing her sweet plump buttocks. First, he would gather a bit more of her dampness on him, so he thrusted in her to gather this. She moaned, she moaned so luscious, giving him what he was looking for. Once he had achieved that, he couldn’t help but kiss her just a last time where he would soon find himself.

Feeling how ready and relaxed she was, he had done his preparation well. He placed himself in front of her exit and tenderly looked to see how far she would allow him in. No pushing, no thrashing, just being there. He was hard enough to not need to support himself, so he could allow his hands to further unwind her. Massaging her bottom, stroking her back. He took his time.

Soon he felt the pressure increase, as she started to push on him. All he could wish for and more is what she was giving him. She knew what he wanted, she knew what he sought to achieve, she complemented him. It came so naturally to her.

A few times he needed to slow her down. She wanted to go too fast, too deep, his desirable Yaina. But she should be able to accommodate his entire length and girth, however impressive, without any pain. Just by taking time. A lesson she had credited him for teaching her, although he could not remember.

Her stamina continued to impress him. With a smoky voice he could not help but compliment her: “you look so pretty, bended over, submitting yourself to me, opening yourself to take my cock again and again and again.”

His gentleness impressed her. Pantingly she said: “you know my body so well, wherever you choose to be.”

It took a while before he could start to move. Before she could finally accept him fully. It still was tight, almost too tight. He felt her spasm several times around him, reflecting the new heights she had reached. Sounds left her mouth he had never heard before, his name sounded so luscious being spoken by her, moaned by her, cried by her while she succumbed to what he wanted to show her. Everything Giedi Prime had to offer he wanted to allow her to experience, especially everything he had to offer.

He was euphoric. She was made for him. He had found her, but he recognised that if he were a religious man he would have believed it was destiny who brought her to him, as she belonged to him.

She had welcomed him in her mouth and pussy just hours ago. She had shown a side of herself never even uncovered towards herself, and she was still showing it. Utterly devoted to him. He saw how every thrust secreted moans and grunts from her. He was uncovering her layer by layer. She fulfilled his needs, she craved him.

And this was by choice and not by force.

He needed to find his own high, his own otherworldly experience, his own revelation.

As he grabbed her hips with one hand and her crock of her neck with the other, he pushed himself just a bit deeper and harder than he had done up to that moment. While she screamed his name in delight, he also claimed this third place with his black cum.

He had decided there was not a better way to mark her as his than with this day long unprecedented token of his affection, as he fell on her. To only leave her after he grew soft and was pushed out.

+++

This night had deepened their understanding of each other, and themselves.

+++

Link to next chapter

Post notes with this chapter:

our Feyd is a playboy, and I did not find any party scenes (which is not to say these are not out there). But the parties in Giedi Prime must just be absolutely awesome. Would be willing to do a lot to experience one.

Well, that will not be happening anytime soon, so here you go. Literally sweating after I finished the first draft of this chapter, giggling while re-reading it, and still decided to go overboard – bc, why not?

And if he could have gotten his hands on the old scriptures of Marquis de Sade, I truly believe Feyd-Rautha would have devoured this (so I added some nudges to his more agreeable work in here).

Daft punk – digital love / the game of love, with a few graphics from Rammstein’s Engel.

[yomica12345]

Pane-fully Obvious: Chapter 4

Prologue Link, Chapter 3 Link

Ao3 Link

Warnings: Injury, Parental Conflict, Anxiety

Chapter 4

Roman slipped his phone back into his pocket, shaking his head. “Emo.”

“Hey, Roman!” A voice called out from across the hall, and Roman turned to see someone hurrying toward him, hands resting on their knees as they tried to catch their breath. “I really need to work out more,” they muttered to themselves, lifting their head and pushing a stray strand of hair behind their ear. “Have you seen Rosalyn anywhere? I’ve been looking for her all morning, but I can’t find her, and it’s the strangest thing—teachers haven’t even been calling her name during roll call. I asked a buddy of mine if they'd seen Rodrique, but he noticed the same thing.”

Roman’s smile faded, his brow furrowing. “You haven’t seen Rosalyn or Rodrique?”

“Didn’t you drive them to school today?”

Roman’s mind flashed back to the previous night, his mother’s serious expression as she turned him away. The discomfort of having to sleep in his car the night before crawled back up his spine. He grimaced and rubbed his neck. “No, I… they both have doctor’s appointments today, so my mom probably excused them,” he offered, trying to sound casual.

The teen nodded, relief flooding their expression. “Thank goodness! I thought Rosalyn had just left without saying goodbye.”

“Yeah, no. She’s fine.” Roman took a step toward the cafeteria doors. “Well, I’m gonna grab some lunch now, so… see you around?”

“Yeah, see ya.” They chuckled, continuing on their way.

Roman hesitated before entering the cafeteria, his eyes lingering on the bustle of students weaving around each other. He let out a shaky breath. Where were they? His gut twisted with unease. Rosalyn and Rodrique weren’t the type to skip school, and his mother’s expression last night had been… different. Not just stern. There had been something in her eyes, something Roman didn’t understand.

He shook his head, willing the thoughts away. No, you’re just being paranoid. There’s a logical explanation. But the cold knot in his stomach wouldn’t unravel.

He bought his lunch on autopilot, barely registering the cashier’s greeting. Tray in hand, he slipped out of the noisy cafeteria and headed to the theater. The familiar, empty space was a welcome relief from the crowded hallways and his swirling thoughts. He set his paper plate down on the stage and hauled himself up beside it.

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and tuned in to his favorite radio station, Solus. The music, at least, offered a brief escape. He checked the time: 12:04. Almost there. He tapped his foot impatiently.

As the clock ticked over to 12:05, the soothing piano notes of Part of Your World filled the air. Roman’s heart lifted. Anxiety’s voice was soft and clear, a balm against the nagging worries in his mind. He smiled, his lips moving with the lyrics as he took a bite of his fries. His legs swung gently off the stage, rhythmically mimicking the waves of a tail.

Two weeks. In just two weeks, he’d meet Anxiety at the Winter Masquerade. The thought was surreal. Someone who knew him in ways no one else did—someone he trusted with his real thoughts and feelings. Roman had already pictured it a hundred times: the masks, the music, the moment their eyes would meet. His tuxedo and mask were ready, but his mind couldn’t fully grasp that it was really happening. Was it possible for something to feel both thrilling and terrifying?

The song ended, but Roman didn’t notice. His mind spun with images of the masquerade—the lights, the crowd, the possibility of something real . He bit into his burger absentmindedly, the crunch snapping him back to reality.

He glanced at the theater door. The unease from earlier slinked back into his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Rosalyn, Rodrique, his mother’s strange behavior… The questions were like shadows, growing longer and darker the more he tried to ignore them. Could he just push them aside for the rest of the day? Would he find answers soon, or would they keep multiplying?

He sighed. He’d have to wait and see.

~

“Virgil, you have to invite Logan to lunch!” Patton squealed, causing Virgil to jump, clutching at his jacket as he leaned back against the lockers. 

Virgil jumped, clutching his jacket. He shot Patton a glare. “Maybe give a guy some warning before you yell in his ear."

Patton chuckled, trailing after him. “Sorry, Kiddo. I’ll be more scare -ful next time.”

Virgil shook his head, glancing sideways. “You want me to invite Logan to lunch?”

“Please? He probably doesn’t have anyone to sit with."

“Why would he want to sit with me? We almost ran him over, remember?”

Patton winced. “Yeah, but…” His eyes suddenly sparkled. “He’s coming this way!

Virgil stiffened, his eyes darting through the crowd until they landed on Logan. His stomach flipped.

“Virgil,” Logan said evenly, adjusting his glasses, “would you mind if I joined you for lunch?”

Virgil blinked, surprised. “I almost… You want to eat with me?"

Logan nodded. “If that would be all right.”

“Uh… yeah, sure, I guess. I eat up in the sound booth.” Virgil thumbed awkwardly toward the theater.

Patton grinned, grabbing Virgil’s arm. “He asked you, he’s so sweet! Come on, let’s go, let’s go!”

Logan followed them, his steps precise. “How have you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been alright. You?”

“I’ve been fine, thank you.”

Virgil nodded and pushed open the theater door. He paused when he saw Roman sitting on the stage, mid-bite of his burger, staring back at him.

Roman lowered his burger. “Virgil?”

Virgil grabbed Logan’s wrist, tugging him toward the stairs.

Logan looked between Roman and Virgil. “Should we all eat together? We’re all here anyway.”

“Whatever.” Virgil let go of Logan. “I’m going up to the sound booth, though.”

Logan nodded and turned to Roman.

Virgil quickened his pace, entering the sound booth. He glanced through the one-way glass, looking for the right moment to slip out the other side. He tried the commentator’s room door. Locked. He grimaced.

“Virgil, what are you doing?” Patton frowned, grabbing his arm.

“This isn’t your problem, Pat.” But his words lacked conviction. He crawled toward the seating, trying to slip out of sight, only to find his path blocked by two pairs of shoes, his trailed up them, stumbling back, Roman and Logan.

He pulled a face, scrambling to his feet, he bolted back down the stairs.

“Virgil! Wait!” Roman shouted, stumbling after him. He reached out, but Virgil dodged, shoving the door open.

It smacked into someone on the other side.

“Ah!” The teacher staggered back, holding their nose.

Virgil winced, reaching past Roman to grab Logan’s hand, tugging him out of the theater. He stopped when another teacher stepped in front of them to block their path

The teacher who had been behind the door spoke up, their voice cold. “Office. Now. All three of you.”

Roman blinked. “But—what did I do?”

“No arguing. Now.”

Chapter 5

[caltropspress]

RAPS + CRAFTS #29: Masai Bey

1. Introduce yourself. Past projects? Current projects?

Peace. My name is Masai Bey. I did a few albums. The Panacea Goldmind, C87 (with BMS), Natural Magic Music, Art Of The Covenant, Beboppin, Guardians Of The Gate (performed with L.I.F.E. Long as Auxiliary Arms). I’ve done a bunch of features and collaborations with other artists. I am currently “retired” from making albums, but I still practice a little.

2. Where do you write? Do you have a routine time you write? Do you discipline yourself, or just let the words come when they will? Do you typically write on a daily basis?

I usually write at home. Lots of times the ideas come while driving in the car, but the construction is usually at home.

3. What’s your medium—pen and paper, laptop, on your phone? Or do you compose a verse in your head and keep it there until it’s time to record?

I would say I’ve always been more of a pencil and paper person, but for the last couple of years it’s been my phone because I use the phone to make notes of ideas. Before I know it, some of those ideas transform themselves into half verses.

4. Do you write in bars, or is it more disorganized than that?

Both.

5. How long into writing a verse or a song do you know it’s not working out the way you had in mind? Do you trash the material forever, or do you keep the discarded material to be reworked later?

I usually do all of my editing while I write. I keep the discarded material if it can be reworked in a different context.

6. Have you engaged with any other type of writing, whether presently or in the past? Fiction? Poetry? Playwriting? If so, how has that mode influenced your songwriting?

I used to do a little poetry writing. Writing poetry taught me how to display an idea a few different ways while reinforcing the single concept.

7. How much editing do you do after initially writing a verse/song? Do you labor over verses, working on them over a long period of time, or do you start and finish a piece in a quick burst?

Most of my editing happens while writing.

8. Do you write to a beat, or do you adjust and tweak lyrics to fit a beat?

I like to write to the beat. It gives me the space to put the pieces together rhythmically.

9. What dictates the direction of your lyrics? Are you led by an idea or topic you have in mind beforehand? Is it stream-of-consciousness? Is what you come up with determined by the constraint of the rhymes?

Everything you just asked. All of these are used.

10. Do you like to experiment with different forms and rhyme schemes, or do you keep your bars free and flexible?

I do both. Whatever seems to make sense to me at that moment.

11. What’s a verse you’re particularly proud of, one where you met the vision for what you desire to do with your lyrics?

"Nonstop." That song was the B-side to the "Paper Mache" single released on Definitive Jux. That song is me.

12. Can you pick a favorite bar of yours and describe the genesis of it?

“My flav was made for any particular age: zero years to eighty, / 7000 B.C. to 7000 A.D.” 

I wanted to use the word age two different ways.

13. Do you feel strongly one way or another about punch-ins? Will you whittle a bar down in order to account for breath control, or are you comfortable punching-in so you don’t have to sacrifice any words?

I’d rather not punch-in only because I like to record the energy flow of the entire verse.

14. What non-hiphop material do you turn to for inspiration? What non-music has influenced your work recently?

Soul, funk, club classics, freestyle, jazz, etc.

15. Writers are often saddled with self-doubt. Do you struggle to like your own shit, or does it all sound dope to you?

Sounds dope to me.

16. Who’s a rapper you listen to with such a distinguishable style that you need to resist the urge to imitate them?

I never had the urge to imitate anyone.

17. Do you have an agenda as an artist? Are there overarching concerns you want to communicate to the listener?

I have no real agenda. I just always wanted to make music that sounded dope to me and share it with the world.

RAPS + CRAFTS is a series of questions posed to rappers about their craft and process. It is designed to give respect and credit to their engagement with the art of songwriting. The format is inspired, in part, by Rob McLennan’s 12 or 20 interview series.

Photo credit: Unknown (contact me).

[jahayla-parker]

Hii, I was wondering if you had any tips for us ADHD folks for focusing on tasks because I’ve had a horrible week with focusing on tasks even as small just doing the dishes and it’s really stressing me out. No pressure to answer this, I really like your Freddy fics btw, they are soooo comforting and your most recent was is PERFECTION.

Thank you for your question. I’m sorry you’re struggling! As a fellow ADHDer, I know how difficult this can be and that many people don’t understand what it’s like and that it’s NOT laziness or a lack of willpower.

I have put a readmore break for those not interested or otherwise trying to get to other posts. 💜

Sleep! Omg sleep is ssooooo important. I struggle with this so much! (If you need more advice on how to fix this lmk). But sleep is crucial otherwise the symptoms will get worse as sleep deprivation only increases adhd symptoms.

Write down notes/ideas as they come. Don’t try to make yourself memorize or remember things when you don’t need to. My iPhone notes are so random but helpful! This will help get take the pressure off and allow your brain to rest.

Focus on easy wins! I cannot stress this enough!!!! ADHD paralysis/executive dysfunction can make everything feel overwhelming. Breaking tasks into smaller and more manageable tasks seems simple (and in terms of application it is) but it helps more than you’d think! It takes the pressure off of each task. Don’t forgot in getting it all done. Choose one task. Then, chose the first step(s) of the task and set some time (what seems manageable currently not what “you should designate” to it) aside to do it. Then give yourself some rest (see ideas below). Then repeat as needed.

Unless you have to, don’t force yourself to stick to a strict schedule. You might want to choose one important task to schedule if needed (ideally still do it the way mentioned above though). But don’t map out your whole day if it can be avoided. This feels, looks, and in many ways is, far too much. Ideally plan a rest activity too if you’re going to schedule anything.

Rest and self care is super important. This can look different from person to person. Especially downing on what your triggers are or what type of stimulation is best for you. For me and many others (but not all) prefer/find calming stimulation to be easier/better aka grounding. Examples of common grounding techniques include: painting (I alternate between my nails and a color by number set personally), coloring, drawing (for some, not me personally though), reading (varies a lot on effectiveness for people), yoga, etc.

Physical activity can help too but is understandably hard to do when these symptoms hit. Smaller/shorter/less intensity exercises are typically better and easier to get done when it feels like this. The key is rhythmic movement as studies have shown this to help (can help with ptsd too!)

Rhythmic activities examples (both physical and otherwise): Things like a few minutes of yoga/stretching, rolling/bouncing/tossing a ball, (drawing/paint/color can be included here too), tap feet/fingers/etc at a calm but steady pace, find something that makes (or can make) a soft sound and initiate that sound in a calm steady pace, listen to meditation music, petting/brushing a pet, etc.

Don’t strive for perfection. This is a hard one for me too. But, aim to complete something even if it’s not perfect. The pressure to perform well can in itself make the task harder. In these times, completion (even of a tiny step within a task) is perfection!

Motivate yourself! Completion isn’t enough motivation, so don’t even try to argue that idea lol. Instead, reward yourself for reaching small milestones. Motivation is a great psychological tool to overcome this. It can be whatever is the most exciting for you (please consider your health as well. -mostly referring to avoiding substance and addictive behaviors)

Hopefully this helps!💜

[krenenbaker]

Ignihyde Character Songs and Associations

Finally getting this part posted! I've had it typed up for... a while now, but haven't gotten around to actually formatting and posting it until now. I'll get Diasomnia up today or tomorrow, and then this series shall be complete!

So, onto the dorm with the technical genius and his android brother... what sorts of music may relate to these two?

Notes: Every song is from my liked songs playlist (so feel free to judge me for my taste, haha!) and I only allowed myself to use an artist once for this project. There is also some strong language and mature themes in some of the songs, so be aware if you choose to listen to them. I’ve included: - A song that represents them - A song they'd listen to and (for some) an additional song, depending on the character and circumstance

The full Spotify playlist for ALL songs and characters is linked at the end of the post.

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Diasomnia

Idia Shroud

Represented by: Nailbiter - Kera and the Lesbians

Idia is, frankly, an anxious individual, and also rather gloomy.  However, he is also just emotionally intense in basically all situations - both positive and negative.  He also tends to antagonize others, much like the lyrics and music of this song.  It's a bit chaotic, and reflects the view Idia tends to have of himself and others (much of which is unwarranted negativity, truthfully).

Listens to: オトモシマス (I'm there for you) - Wonderful ☆ Opportunity!

There is no way that Idia does not listen to vocaloid music in some form. Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm incorrect. And this is the exact type of song he would choose. A song with Rin and Len's vocals, and with a lyrical focus on gaming? I mean, what more could I say? Idia would absolutely LOVE it!

Ortho Shroud

Represented by: Rule 4: Fish in a Birdcage - Fish in a Birdcage

Ortho is so deeply connected to Idia, who literally BUILT him. This song just... fits with Ortho, in a number of ways. Although he's different from the people around him, he still is positive, friendly, and curious. He's figuring out his place in the world, has learned to be expressive and passionate, and is well-supported, all thanks to his brother :)

Listens to: Fuguefat - The Octopus Project

Ortho would probably like music that is rhythmically complex or unusual, since he'd find it more interesting. And a song like this, which is in 7/4 time with multiple different lines and rhythmic patterns, would most certainly be interesting to him!

[shed0kryptz]

hi guyz !! im makin a bit of a different post today. i wanted to share some album/ep covers that ive been thinking about recently cuz album art is so cool + i love all of these artists dearly. enjoy my rambles :D

Sign - Nobukazu Takemura (2000)

my pfp !!!! i discovered the title track sign from the album hoshi no koe, but this is the record it originally debuted in! takemura is a japanese electronic musician who makes a lot of experimental music, and this album is no different. however, it has sort of a.. nintendo vibe to it? it’s difficult to describe, but it’s super fun !! i love the album art as well and the rhythmic motion of the building. the little music note guy has my whole heart too, theyre jus a little goober <3

Paraiso - Haruomi Hosono and The Yellow Magic Band (1978)

i wouldve put this in yellow but there is no option. anywayz this is a interesting album. ive recently started listening to hosono’s music and i enjoy it a lot !!! hosono house is fire, but this one is also good ! the cover art is what initially led me to listening to this, i love the beach atmosphere and the sky as space. and the little bubbles that have random monuments in them. and the palm trees n plants and agh. it’s delightfully surreal and im here for it !!!

S-F-X - Haruomi Hosono (1984)

look hosono you’re awesome and i love your early stuff so far. but i could not get into this ep at all. might try again tho !! but it’s really a shame because the cover is awesome. i love the distortion on the face and the pops of pink and yellow against the teal background. it’s very pleasing to look at and it’s been floating in my mind for awhile. very futuristic lookin !

Sail - Masakatsu Takagi (2003)

I AM THE ULTIMATE TAKAGI FAN #1 anyway. this album is so so lovely and silly. it has a special place in my heart now fr. the best way to describe it is animal crossing/picopop(??) type music. some of it reminds me of kero kero bonito’s music too. idk genres are weird !! point is it’s very upbeat and nostalgic. a few tracks are more somber sounding, especially rama. but i love the album art of this one, it’s like something you’d see in a dream or a childhood memory. i love the watercolor texture and the blend of pastel colors too!! and how it looks as if it was combined from multiple layers, as in each piece of the figure was made separately. overall takagi is a genius and this album SLAPS

Keep It Unreal (10th Anniversary) - Mr. Scruff (2009)

mr. scruff makes very cheeky and silly electronic music, but occasionally he drops an absolute banger. nah fr all of his stuff is good, some of it is just more “serious” than others. but i appreciate his sense of humor and the beats he makes ! this album of his is a great listen, but i especially love the cover. the og album cover is mounted up in the corner while these little bean guys are celebrating. truly a work of art. his other album ninja tuna also shares a similar art style !! very goofy <3

A Wizard, a True Star - Todd Rundgren (1973)

do i gotta say anything even. this is just a masterpiece of a cover. there is so much going on in the best way possible. i love the incorporation of the geometric shapes. the trippy visuals. it screams 70s. not to mention this album is fire. international feel is so good !!!

Desire, I Want to Turn Into You - Caroline Polachek (2023)

PHOTOGRAPHY JUMPSCARE ! i recently go into caroline polachek and OML where have you been all my life. this album is pure pop bliss and her vocals are so so good. sunset and fly to you are especially good oug. the album cover in particular is very simple in concept but it’s executed so well. the lighting, the sand, the bus chairs, her outfit?? absolutely stunning. this woman oozes creativity fr.

Dreams - Gabor Szabo (1968)

i could not find a better quality image of this one but holy molay this is a great jazz fusion record. is it fusion? idk anymore. but this is a great album and the art is just. mwah. i love all of the intricate details and the flowers. it’s just gorgeous !!! what else can i say !

Dead but Dreaming - vivivivivi (2023)

final one !!! vivivivivi is honestly super underrated, though her song credits song for my death has 8 million views on yt. anyway, this was a pretty recent album from her and it’s very cool !!! def gives the vibes of an rpg. i love the album cover tho!! the artist did a tremendous job with it, i love the overgrowth of the flowers and the shading. it also suits the tracks well !!

[broadcastbabe]

I’m not so much a muse as I am a break in your punishing practice session. An important concert approaches and you are obsessed with the perfection of your performance in the large arena. This is far from that reality, being one-on-one and making a very different type of musical harmony. Encouraging me to be boisterous as I am pleasured, you call out the pitch of the notes I moan with blissful abandon. Forever creative, you adjust yourself inside me like a tuning fork to guide the proceedings that please your ear. You tell me you will picture me, straddling you as I do now, for inspiration when you play for the throngs. You ease my skirt up to spy our connection as your thrusts become less subtle. My body being knocked back against the keyboard creates a faint rhythmic backdrop to my increasingly deeper moans. My dress is eased further and further up my body in search of a full immersion with my gorgeous breasts. They are nuzzled and suckled until I am quite dizzy with the attention and pleading for a release. Your probes have become profound to that end and your own groans have become syncopated in perfect time with entering me relentlessly. You harmonize with my runaway noise and we cum together in a symphonic crescendo. I am limply draped against the upright as you are inspired to play simple chords around me, leaning in to kiss my breasts as I recover to the serenade. I extricate myself to allow you to continue practicing without my distraction. You call after me to report the venue has just informed him their Steinway is finished being tuned… so we need to reconvene there for a private practice session, with the baby grand. You suggest I dress myself in a low-cut evening gown befitting the hall to accompany you while you continue to fine tune your performance.

[dmdokuro]

Hi! I recently got Synth V along with both Solaria & Asterian's voice banks, so out of curiosity since I absolutely adore the work you've been doing for They know who they are; do you have some tips or tricks you use when tuning/mixing vocals with Synth V specifically? I've only got some minor experience in that sense. Sorry if I'm out of line for asking for advice out of nowhere though! Feel free to ignore this ask in that case 🙏

i'll admit, this one was quite difficult to answer for a moment, but i think i have a valid answer: learn your voice bank's limitations! there are certain notes they can and can't sing (some outside their range, if you know how to mess around with the vocal mode presets), and the best results usually come from notes within their range. as for tuning, i usually go with the acting route. play the lyrics out in your head as if it were dialogue in a movie, or a comic strip. what exactly would they mean to you? once you have a certain vibe down, replicate the dynamics as you would with the dialogue - are they shouting? pleading with someone? are they trying to communicate with them? is it in first- or third- person perspective? small things like this that assist in the type of emotion needed to tune with human precision. you can cheat with the internal vibrato, no shame in that, but do remember to give the phoneme timing some love to balance it out. punctual diction makes ALL the difference when writing rhythmic or accentuated parts.

eh, i think that would apply to original music anyway, not sure about covers - you'd have to do some good research on that particular song and the kind of emotion it's going for.

hope this helps in some way????? it may be a bit rambly imho.

[bwhitex]

Hello and Happy Tuesday,

Music has and always will be a source of inspiration in my journey of self-discovery. From a young age, I've found that certain melodies spark my curiosity and lift my spirit in profound ways. It is this deeply personal power of music that I'd like to explore with you today.

While we all have diverse tastes, I believe music's ability to transcend boundaries and bring people together holds great beauty. The complex harmonies of classical speak to our shared humanity, as do the vibrant rhythms of jazz or the meaningful lyrics found in folk. Each genre reflects the souls of the artists who created it, and invites listeners to connect.

My journey in listening has been one of exploring new sounds and opening windows into cultures both near and far. But it is also a path of learning - as the moods that move me often reveal my changing hopes, interests and values over time. They actually tell me my personality. I praise people’s ability to read themselves back, and others through their choices and interests in music. It’s not the analysis that ever is the problem, it’s the process of which we organize to deliver the cognitive and emotional evidence. Do we analyze to between understand or do we do it more for conviction? Occasionally, there’s both and that will work out too if it’s fair and proportional to truth. However, I personally, would rather than judging what is "mainstream," I find layers of meaning everywhere, from popular hits to underground discoveries.

Music has also introduced me to fascinating people, as concerts, open discussions and sharing favorite songs have fostered friendships I would not have otherwise known. Even small moments of musical connection, like discovering a new streaming genre or happening upon street performers, seem to brighten each day. Below is an equation built for you to drop right into a search engine optimization. It’s using atypical object relation, it created it to talk right to algorithm. Drop right into a search engine, reflect yourself.

It's an equation I've come to appreciate: (Complex + Abstract + Unconventional Music) Eclectic Taste / [High Level Openness] = Journey Towards Greater Self-Discovery

The Symphony of Complexity

Complex music has always held a unique allure for me. The intricate melodies, the harmonious interplay of chords, the rhythmic undulations, and the profound lyricism of genres like classical, jazz, and progressive rock have always been more than just sounds to my ears. A mirror of my own life. They represent, to me, a labyrinth of emotions and ideas, each note a thread leading me deeper into the understanding of my own psyche.

The Abstract Canvas

Equally captivating is abstract music, an uncharted territory that defies traditional conventions. Experimental music, ambient sounds, avant-garde genres - they create not just a melody, but a mood, a sound landscape that is open to interpretation. I find myself diving into these soundscapes, exploring the different textures and ideas, and in the process, understanding more about my own emotional spectrum.

The Unconventional Path

Then there's unconventional music, the rebel of the music world. Genres like alternative rock and indie music, where artists are pushing boundaries, breaking from established norms, and incorporating unique elements. This love for the unconventional mirrors my own journey of self-discovery. It's a testament to my appreciation for creativity and originality, and my constant quest to seek something different from the mainstream.

An Eclectic Taste

My taste in music is as diverse as it is eclectic. From the classical to the contemporary, from the mainstream to the underground, from the familiar to the foreign, I find joy in exploring different types of music. It's this openness to new experiences, this willingness to step out of my comfort zone that has played a pivotal role in my journey of self-discovery.

The Trait of Openness

As a person with a high level of openness, one of the Big Five Personality Traits, I find that my openness is reflected in my musical preferences. Openness encompasses imagination, creativity, and an appreciation for art, all of which translate into my musical choices.

Complexity, Creativity, and Emotional Depth

My love for complex music reflects my appreciation for creativity and intellectual engagement. The layers of meaning in intricate lyrics, the interplay of different instruments in a complex musical arrangement - they all speak to my intellectual curiosity. The emotional depth in music resonates with me, as I have a greater awareness of my own emotions and a higher tolerance for a range of emotional experiences.

Exploration and Discovery

My journey of self-discovery is also a journey of exploration and discovery in the world of music. I am driven by curiosity and a desire for new experiences. I love exploring different music genres, discovering new artists, and seeking out music from different cultures, time periods, or underground scenes.

Intellectual Engagement

Music for me is not just about the sound, it's about engaging with complex ideas, about thought-provoking lyrics, about complex musical techniques. It's a testament to my intellectual curiosity and my love for engaging with complex ideas.

But this is just my journey, my equation. Each of us has our own unique equation, our own path of self-discovery, influenced by a range of factors such as cultural background, personal experiences, and situational factors. And that's what makes each of our journeys unique and beautiful.

I hope that sharing my journey has given you some insights, and perhaps even inspired you to explore your own musical equation and embark on your own journey of self-discovery. After all, music is a universal language, but how we interpret it is deeply personal. Happy listening, and happy discovering!