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redwineandtarot · 9 months

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your life 5 years from now (timeless)

hi! today we will take a look at how your life looks like 5 years from now. this is a timeless reading so whenever this find you, you can read it. we have free will, i am just reading energies so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3

🥀paid readings🥀

Disclaimer: My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.

pick a pile

piles 1-2

3-4

i do not own these pictures

pile 1

In the next 5 years you will reap what you sow pile 1! I see amazing opportunities career wise. These opportunities will come to you because you are stepping out of your comfort zone and working hard for what you want. You will be stepping up your game and leading your life with proudness. You are action oriented for sure.

You may start doing the things you were afraid of before. Because you are in a more action-oriented mode, you will overcome those fears. At first you will do them while you are scared, but as time goes by you will overcome them.

I see such a confident person pile 1!

For a while you may have been on guard about love. This may have been because of a betrayal or not seeing a healthy relationship example (when you were a child etc.). I see that changing. A person will come who is going to change your outlook on love. They are very loving and giving. You may also do charity work with them. While you are action-oriented career wise, I see your lover coming to you.

I talked a lot about material gains. However you are stepping up your game also spiritual-wise. I said you will reap what you sow. You will and manifesting them will help you get them. Spirit is suggesting you to start manifesting if you don't already. You could do a vision board etc. Whatever feels right to you.

Your intuition will be heightened, like A LOT. Because the card to represent you is the MYSTIC. You will be one with the divine.

At the end of this 5 year period, you will have gone through a massive change. This will lead you to be more confident and be more accepting of yourself. I see you living an authentic life. This massive change will also have an impact on your spirituality.

I talked about you being action oriented, but I still see you preserving your feminine side. You will, thus, have a great balance of feminine-masculine energies, material-spiritual world etc.

Overall I see you quite content with your life, pile 1.

The area of life going through the most transformation: 6th house What energy you will be in: Taurus Your uranus placement will be guiding for you in the next 5 years.

thank you for reading💕

pile 2

This may be literal or metaphorical depending on your situation:

I see someone’s heart getting broken, or going through something hard. However instead of this wrecking them completely, they rise up stronger than ever. This person I am seeing, uses this experience to create a masterpiece of some sort. To let people know that they are not the only ones going through this. Let them help with their sorrow. And this creation makes the wheels turn: they become someone people look up to, they achieve great success.

The first thing I wanna say is: You will get what you deserve pile2.

You may have gone through something in the past or recently that affects you now. If not (please do not be scared) I see you going through something heavy emotionally. This thing depends from person to person. You are/will be victimizing yourself a lot. However when you come out of this energy, the real deal will begin. Like I said in the intro; this will inspire you to do something creative, it doesn't have to be related to art/music but for most of you it is. If it's not related to art/music, it may be becoming a psychologist etc.

From this point on you will have regained your trust in the universe and in yourself. You will start doing whatever this is. For some of you, this is a childhood dream. (This is a confirmation for you to go for it.) Just this heartbreak inspires you to take action on this dream. Whatever you do, your path/creations will help people in some way. And as a result you will gain great success. Jupiter will bless you with happiness and abundance. Because you will be taking responsibility for yourself and will surrender to the divine.

Spirit again and again tells me that you need to have faith in your dreams, they are coming true in the next 5 years as long as you take responsibility and trust the universe. You just need to be patient.

Believe in yourself pile 2, because me and the spirit really do.

The area of life going through the most transformation: 1st house What energy you will be in: Capricorn Your venus placement will be guiding for you in the next 5 years.

thank you for reading💕

pile 3

Your different aspects find life, pile 3. I see you as a multi talented/multi faceted person and all of your versions are blossoming 5 years from now. You are acknowledging your different versions as a person, and nourishing them throughout these 5 years and in the end these different aspects of you will shine brightly together, I see.

You are also tackling more than one job/hobby at once. Maybe you have a main job and a side job/passion project. Or just lots of hobbies. However you are working hard in general. But this is not just a “work to work” thing. You really do enjoy the things you do. I see you living an authentic life. You probably have lots of goals and are working hard to achieve them. By the end of 5 years you will have achieved great things however after these 5 years I see even BETTER blessings coming your way. It’s like you're at the verge of a BIG breakthrough.

I see you financially well off. However you do not stop. You still try to find ways to make more money and better yourself. I see you as an ambitious person.

If you haven't found it yet, you will find your “personal calling”. Or if you have that sort of thing, you will find other things that will light your soul up. Luck will be on your side throughout these 5 years.

I also see you doing shadow work and healing the deep wounds you have inside. (For some, especially regarding money. Maybe some of you struggle(d) from being envious of financially well off people. ) Whatever it is, you are healing.

You are so grateful for the life you are living. I see you quite content with your life. You are emotionally fulfilled. A lot will happen in these 5 years.

You will find a great balance of giving-receiving, moving-resting, planning-accepting etc. You will listen to your soul and body more as well as the universe.

The area of life going through the most transformation: 7th house What energy you will be in: Leo Your north node placement will be guiding for you in the next 5 years.

thank you for reading💕

pile 4

First of all, I see that you have achieved a great balance in your life. You may be lacking some balance regarding an aspect of your life. I see that resolving in the next five years. Also an issue regarding your personal life. That will resolve too, whether it is connected to your balance or not.

You will realize your real potential and take the reins. I suggest you to look up your south and north nodes because they will help you get to know yourself more. You will be showing up to the world as your authentic self. I am not meaning that every secret of your will be on display but you are not people pleasing etc. On the contrary you are keeping your secrets and are working in silence. Yes, this transformation will be shocking to most of the people because you won't be telling most of the people/anyone. For example you may want to start a dance class, you will go there in silence and when people see how well you dance after a while they will be shocked because you haven't told them.

You are not shying away from challenges, pile 4. I see you as a brave person. And I think that’s what makes this transformation bigger and more impactful.

Prior to transforming (or at the beginning), you will go on maybe a hermit mode? You will get all philosophical and better yourself regarding knowledge of any kind. I see you working hard.

You are also standing firm on your ground. When a situation arises, you defend yourself if you know that you're right. I also see this as defending your own life path. I am not saying everybody will be against you or supporting you but if someone talks negatively to you, this won't bother you. Because you are already proud of yourself. So you defend yourself firmly.

A love interest or (mostly) a soulmate will come into your life. You will probably not see this coming but they are coming with so much love and things to offer. For the ones in a committed relationship (and don't see themselves breaking up) this may be about not losing the love and compassion to each other and maybe even taking the next step. For example if you are in a relationship, your partner may propose to you or you can get engaged etc.

You overall will be so happy about the life you are living, pile 4.

The area of life going through the most transformation: 8th house What energy you will be in: Pisces Your sun placement will be guiding for you in the next 5 years.

thank you for reading💕

#tarot #tarot reading #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #intuitive reading #intuitive readings #pick a picture #future spouse reading #love reading

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grapejuicestyless · 11 months

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Unforgettable

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n Y/l/n is a classic rockstar with a magnetic pull and a bad reputation with men to her name. Turns out Y/n might not be such a bad girl after all and the men she used might have not been the truth.

Pages bursted from every seam of her notebook, littered in scribbled lyrics of failed beginnings, one night stands and the most innocent poetry writings that reflected the opposite of the devilish woman behind the pencil marks.

Everything about her was shiny. Her glittery deep purplish blue eyeshadow and the highlight on the tip of her nose to the glistening sweat that dripped underneath her top.

She was messy, yet so detailed. Every hair out of place seemed to fit perfectly a top her head. The lazy smear of lipgloss and eyeshadow applied carelessly yet laying in such way that it almost looked intentional.

It was that careless attitude that was so magnetic about her. The rockstar exterior she possessed attracting the innocent into her wild web of her craft.

But, despite her rockstar complexion and her love life reputation, the girl had an undeniable talent that could not be ruined by the poor press that swirled her name.

So it could only be fitting to place the most standout woman there into the cleanest band reputation wise. It was humorous, when it was announced. Y/n Y/l/n, joining Harry Styles for his long awaited Love On Tour.

Harry, who had hand picked her from the bunch of bassists waiting to wow him, was immediately aware of her presence. Her look sharp and eye catching, but her talent even better. She had a skill for her craft that nobody else was even able to come close to achieving. It was almost destiny she had shown up, notebook stuffed full of sloppy writing and bass scratched from her frustration.

Truthfully, Y/n hadn’t really longed to be placed into the band. She didn’t exactly enjoy the bright pinks and pop music that blasted through the speakers. She had only gone to the audition because she had been itching to play. Having traveled the world with some of the biggest inspirations, and by herself on a successful world tour a couple years ago, Y/n found herself bored in her home for so long. She was just about ready to go out a preform to a room filled with angry elderly people who hated all loud noises. Anything to give her the thrill of being in front of the crowd again.

So, when she was emailed one August evening, detailing of an audition for a bassist to join a well known artist on stage, she pushed aside her unfamiliarity with the genre.

It wasn’t that Y/n disliked pop music, it just wasn’t her favorite. She’s spent most of her time closer to a soft rock sound, pulling from past inspirations and old sounds that could be reworked into her work. The glitz and glam of the fresh and new sounding pop music was only something she hadn’t really gotten into, explaining why she felt more nervous than glad she was selected.

Yet, her ability to adjust and charm her way through her lack of experience within the genre was enough to keep her going, placing her where she was now. Standing next Harry, under the intense lights of Madison Square in the middle of one of the hottest summers to date.

…

A year had passed, just about, since Y/n first stepped onto the stage, her bass slung around her neck with a tattered strap that was practically molded to her shoulders. She gave a good amount to the band, adding in bass lines that ascended the songs into a better form of themselves. Making sure not to overpower the other instruments, but to lift them up and amplify how they sounded collectively as a band.

“That was good, that sounded great actually!” I turned back, the side of my lip pressed into the surface of the microphone. My hands found their way around the cord, untangling it to gain some more movement around the stage.

“Why don’t we recollect, get some water and stretch out?” I shot a thumbs up to the sound guy, who had been playing around with some switches behind a small barricade farther back in the arena. After the go ahead was given, the lights dimmed to a soft glow on top of the stage and the heat seemed less intense.

“No way, that’s so cool! Where did you find that, I’ve been having so much trouble looking for a new bass recently.” Her voice was slightly raspy, deeper too, I noticed from the dryness that I assumed was itching at her throat.

I watched her toss her head back, lips wrapped around the plastic water bottle until it crinkled beneath her hands and was left with nothing more than a few stray drops of water pooling at the bottom.

Elin, who she had been conversing with enthusiastically, seemed to match her energy precisely, showing Y/n the same amount of excitement over the new piece of equipment. Eyes gleaming with interest and passion over the topic. It felt warming knowing that work felt less like an obligation but instead was a privilege.

A close knit family that brought a dopey smile to my face at only the thought of it. I listened to them and there insane energy inconspicuously, eyes avoidant of the women and instead settled on the ledge between Sarah’s drums and where the trumpet players would stand later that night where the nearest supply of water was.

From afar, underneath the sound in my head of my aggressive swallowing of water, it sounded like the pair were dispersing. The conversation ended with a faint laugh that dwindled out the longer the conversation ended.

It was a true laugh, sincere. Almost a belly laugh but just not quite there yet. The sound so familiar it was instantly pinned in my mind as Y/n’s.

The common misconception about Y/n was that she was shallow, unfeeling and unknowing of basic relationships and proper manners. The media had poorly labeled the innocent woman, her lyrics thought to be too provocative and explicit. Too in depth and detailed that gossip accounts were ready to start this false narrative about the most undeserving person of the hate.

Maybe it was her careless expressions after completing a hard bass line, or her rockstar style that made her such an easy target for the untrue opinions and thoughts. She had that old grungy thing about her that both made her desirable and criticized, yet she made it work.

Y/n was the sun, in my eyes. A bright, young woman with wisdom beyond her years and heart so full it was overflowing with empathy and sympathy. Her lyrics reflected her past experiences, like any other artist. Her failed relationships that left her in the darkness and her distantly timed hook ups to fill the cold loneliness beside her bed.

Truthfully, she was more like the rest of the industry than any gossiper could comprehend. Her writing abilities expressed so freely, so vulnerable that it caused that discomfort, that pit in the listeners stomach forming with each song she put on her albums. The real truth was that she wasn’t some shallow, sex driven girl who dated guys to write about how they did her wrong. She was a loving woman who loved everyone more than life and was overly naive. She dated trying to find someone who could understand her like she understood everyone else. She spoke what was on her mind completely true and unfiltered constantly. Not fearful of the backlash her opinions would bring. That’s what continues to draw me to her throughout our time together.

“Hey, Harry.” Her voice was sweet, laced with honey and dripping in sweetness. I barely noticed her touch on my shoulder until I looked down at her guitar string scarred hands and found myself smiling.

“What’s up, Angel? What’s going on?” I turned my back to her, head thrown over my shoulder to look back to her face while my hands worked on screwing on the cover to my water bottle.

“You know, the usual. Just wanted to tell you I thought that note change during Sign of the Times was beautiful. You should go for those higher notes more often, you hit them every time.” She was completely honest in her opinions, which is why I held her words dear to my heart.

Y/n had no issue telling me what she thought. She was rather quick to give pointers of what worked better and how to substitute those notes that were strained and uncomfortable. Yet, she did it with such a down to earth point of view. She remained humble, even if everyone here knew she had talents beyond all of ours. She acted like she was just as good as the rest of us, like we were equals.

“I know, it’s just hard with so many people around. Don’t want to fall flat and ruin it.” Shrugging, we walked together to the stairs at the edge of the stage.

“Don’t psych yourself out, Styles. You nail those notes all the time. Your range is unbelievably complex. You have that ability to hit the higher notes every time.” She placed her hand in mine, following me down the stairs cautiously as the last one was always less steep than the rest, causing mishaps occasionally.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” We nodded at each other, silently understanding that the conversation was ending but still taking each other in. It almost felt like something was pulling us closer, eyes growing heavier and smiles getting looser. Breathing sharper.

“I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” It was breathy, the way it came out of her mouth. Almost like it was something she hadn’t wanted to say but forced herself to.

I nodded, watching her eyes crinkle before she turned away briskly, quick to find her escape through the illuminated tunnel. For a moment I felt like a fly in a web that was her creation, stuck in place to just stare as she left.

…

The show was unworldly. An atmosphere so intense and the energy so insane the floor swayed beneath my feet. The shows were structured the same each night, yet each one felt like a completely new experience. It was how the fans danced together in a formation that they’d created during Treat People With Kindness and how they’d share different experiences drawn out on their cardboard signs. It was surreal, something I felt lucky enough to experience with some of my closest friends, my band.

It went by smoothly, as projected to. The lights and the transitions between each songs igniting an excitement beyond no other I had ever experienced. Sarah played the drums precisely, hitting every beat necessary as her husband, Mitch, created the familiar tunes that were the songs of the past few albums. Within in the music, Y/n stood perched just next to Pauli, continuing to support Mitch and Elin within her bass playing.

By the time Kiwi had reached its end, I caught myself looking back to catch a glance at Y/n. Telling myself it was only to get a short moment to observe her living in her passion. Really, deep down I knew it was something more, something that had always been there yet I hadn’t had the courage to admit until that out loud.

…

The dressing room was quiet, after the show. The post show blues, as I used to refer to it as. The ultimate high coming back down with the realization that it was all over.

I let myself peel the sweaty chevron shirt off of my body and kicking off my green Gucci shoes. I left on the mismatched bottoms while ruffling through the pile of clothes packed in my suitcase for a shirt and shorts.

“Hey, rockstar. Trying a new look?” My head raised, turning halfway to meet her eyes.

“Yeah, really going for that oiled up 2000’s boy next door idea.” We laughed, eyes closing at how stupid I must’ve looked to her. Finding it funny and slightly embarrassing as the rose tint spread like wildfire across my cheeks.

Soon, our laughs turned into silence, warm smiles reflecting off of our faces onto the others. It was comfortable, lip caught between her teeth and mine pulling at the skin of my bottom one.

“I heard what you did tonight. Proud of you. I told you, you could hit that note change. Honestly, sounded better out there than at soundcheck.” My heart fluttered.

“I could say the same about you. It’s like you gain more power with each show.”

“Stop it, you just might make me blush.” She stepped closer, merely a few inches left separating the two of us. Her breath tickling my skin, her hands clenched by her sides nervously.

Suddenly, she had lost all that confidence that told the world she could play anyone like a fiddle. Suddenly she lost that fog around the mirror that created the illusion of a rockstar super player who moved from one man to the next, without rhyme or reason. She became what we’d all learned of her. The girl who loved long and hard on the people close to her, and the girl who despite was she was destined by the media to have been, had only had a couple relationships past the one night stands that filled her notebook. She batted her eyes, and I held my breath.

“Y/n…” It was a whisper. A soft murmur beneath my breath, but I was sure she’d heard it.

I found myself slowly reaching for her hand, opening it on top of my palm and brushing my fingers gently over the creases that ran along them before letting it fall back to her side. My eyes lifted from where we touched back to her face. Only to allow myself to find contact again. I let my hand slip around her waist, pulling slowly until our bodies were pressed together. The only thing separating our lips was the small gap we’d placed between them.

“Harry..?” She seemed conflicted, unsure almost. Hesitant.

“Is this okay?” It came out shaky, the nerves reaching a point that could only be cured by her acceptance.

“I…I just…” She thought on it, “I don’t want you to believe everything about me. I don’t want to lose you when you realize I’m not who you think I am.” The confession sounded like it was almost painful to admit.

“Oh.” I blinked, “Y/n, angel, no. I would never think that.” Her eyes were avoidant, her body more tense than moments prior.

“Please, look at me.” I let my other hand raise under his chin, pointer finger hooking underneath her chin to raise her gaze to mine, “To me, you are everything. You understand me. You see things that nobody else sees. Y/n, you bring out the best in me. I would have never had the courage to push myself and change that note tonight if you hadn’t pushed me to do it. You have this honesty that makes everyone value your words and you have this power over me that continues to draw me to you. I can not explain it, but believe me when I say you are all I want.” Her eyes fogged with what I believed to be her taking in my sudden confession. Yet, with her realization at what I had just said, she still remained silent and I felt the instant regret growing harder in my heart.

I had been through enough rejections to build a home. Yet, the thought of her rejecting me hurt more than anything I could’ve put myself through.

“Shit..Im sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ My explanation was no use, her hands on my cheeks and her lipstick smearing across my lips in a red hue as her lips pressed hard into mine in a sudden burst of confidence.

My eyes shut quickly, settling into it, only for it to be taken away quicker than I had longed for. Eyes opened in a lustful haze. Yet it wasn’t sexual, but completely innocent and perfect in every sense.

“I love you.” The words slipped passed my lips before I could stop them. A smile growing in a lovesick fashion across her face as my confession Is held in for so long reached her ears.

“I love you too.” She returned the confession, leaning in again to press her lips harder into mine and a heavenly sigh escaping her throat.

It was passionate and loving in a way that I’d never experienced before. The shared feelings were strong, new, vulnerable. A new beginning that both of us secretly longed for.

How funny the public would find it if the news ever broke that their precious bad girl rockstar was actually a giant love bug and an angel on earth. How much of a shock it would be to those who tore her down for her fashion choices and her lack of precautions in the public eye.

She might not be who she was made out to be from the exterior, but the one thing the press had gotten right about the devilish woman who broke too many hearts and dished out too many fights she could handle.

She is unforgettable.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst

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katerina-marie · 28 days

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The Beach Episode (Romantic Sunday)

Sukuna x Reader

You and Satoru are supposed to be filming a short ad on the beach, but your blue-eyed costar has a habit of never showing up on time. What happens when a certain tattooed, pink-haired band member surprises you with a visit? You frolic in the ocean of course!

Notes: A celebrity!au that popped into my head while listening to Romantic Sunday by Car, the Garden and would not leave. While this is a Sukuna x Reader fic, other characters do play minor roles and may have brief POVs. This fic is pending in my head as a chapter in a larger work that chronicles reader's and Sukuna's developing relationship and is inspired by other scenarios that come to be while listening to music, but nothing is concrete. Since that's so, Sukuna and reader's relationship isn't explicitly defined but is certainly past friendship.

Word Count: 5.3k

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo (he's picked on, but I love him so please don't take offense), other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, includes an innuendo or two, but other wise PG/PG-13, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy).

P.S. I've used a line from a favorite TV show back in my teen years. Let me know if you recognize it!

——————————————————————————————————

“Well…you did say you wanted to go to the beach, Kento. Look where we are!”

Your teasing tone and amused grin did nothing to budge the frustrated scowl off the face of your manager. If anything, it drove the furrow between his eyebrows that much further, and you swore a vein in his forehead started to throb.

“A vacation, actually,” Nanami began, sending you a pointed look that said he knew exactly what you were playing at, “in Malaysia…on a beach…by myself.”

You tutted at him before giving him a dainty smile and settling further into your makeup chair, “I was only trying to make you laugh, Kento.”

In your opinion, laughing and smiling was something Nanami Kento seldom did but often should. Whether it was a personal standard he held himself to or some other form of ritual torture, your manager stuck to a strict dress code no matter where he went. Case in point, on a beach in the middle of the summer, Nanami was clothed in his usual suit, tie and dutifully styled hair in tow. The only indication that he planned for the environment you all would spend the day in was the thick white stripes of sunscreen pasted on the sharp angle of his nose and over the apples of his cheeks. Whether he intentionally matched the color of his tan suit to the sand under your feet was anyone’s best guess. You hesitated to ask, a mercy for Kento if you did say so yourself, if only because he looked one wrong word away from throwing himself in the ocean, and not in a way that indicated any fun would be had.

As if privy to your thoughts, he released a drawn out sigh and crossed his legs in his own chair across from you. He took a quick glimpse at the time on his phone and shook his head.

Poor Kento. He really did deserve that vacation. And honestly, you did appreciate and acknowledge his dedication to his craft—and you, by extension.

“I’m sorry,” Nanami murmured, an apologetic softening of his eyes making his whole expression smooth out, “my frustrations are not towards you, I assure you. I’m confident you could guess at whom my ire is directed at currently.”

You snorted. “Well, of course I c—,”

“That blue-eyed bastard is late again!”

The flap of your makeup tent was thrown back with enough force that you were surprised it hadn’t ripped clean down its seam. Your overgrown tree of a bodyguard had a habit of “forgetting” the strength and stature that made him so adept at his job and simply enjoyed his ability to throw any object—or person—around as he pleased.

You scowled at Toji for interrupting you and watched as he stomped over to stand next to you and Nanami with a pout that pulled at the, frankly, appealing scar at the corner of his mouth. Between that, his eyes that looked as if they knew every secret you ever had and shaggy black hair that probably needed a cut, Toji posed both an intimidating and handsome figure. That was besides the point though and not that it mattered much to you. He had a son that was a friend of your friend and only a couple years younger than you. Not that Toji looked it one bit.

“Satoru hasn’t been heard from, I presume?”

Toji and Nanami both leveled you with a deadpan look and answered you at the same time with the same disgruntled voice, “no.”

You threw your head back in exasperation and instantly regretted it when you were reminded of the dozens of pins holding your styled hair in place as they all poked you quite viciously in the back of the head. You winced and raised your hand to rub at the sore spot, only to have it slapped away by a member of the hair and makeup team to prevent you from mussing it further. You crossed your arms with a huff and slouched further into your chair.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Toji remarked, his smirk full of sarcasm and twisted amusement. “I think they missed a spot with your makeup though.”

You found no humor in the waving of his hand as one of his fingers circled the entirety of your face in the air in front of it, nor were you concerned with the false insinuation that you looked anything other than well put together. Now, the chance of said makeup sliding right off your face as soon as you stepped into the late afternoon sun? Plausible, but best left to the worries of the experts.

“Toji,” you crooned, voice cloyingly sweet but eyeing him with a sharp glare he was surely well acquainted with, “we’re at the beach. Why don’t you, oh I don’t know, go play in the ocean and swim with the fish? Or, do you want to build a sandcastle?”

The smug grin he was wearing fell clean off his face and was replaced with an ugly pinch of his nose.

“Hell no, I hate sand! The damned stuff always gets everywhere no matter what I do. In my socks, my sandwich, the crack of my a—,”

“Enough!”

Nanami’s exclamation was loud and angry enough that it caused you and Toji both to jump and effectively ended whatever crude tale he was about to subject the crowd in the tent to.

“I’m going to go call Geto and see where the hell his client is.”

Nanami stood and brushed any bits of sand from his suit. Not that anyone could tell if there had been any in the first place.

“You,” he added, pointing in your direction, “will get dressed so that once I finish ripping Gojo’s manager a new one, we can talk with the director of this damned affair and see if we can get any film done with just you while we wait.”

Without leaving any room for protest or discussion, Nanami was gone with a flutter of a tent flap and you were left making wide eyes at your equally stunned bodyguard. There was silence and stillness for a beat of time before Toji shrugged and movement about the tent resumed again.

“Well,” he drawled, “that’s my cue to leave. I’m off to go guard some bodies and what not.” His eyebrows danced and his eyes flashed, not in the least deterred by your annoyed stare.

“We’re on a closed off, private beach, Toji. There’s no one here for you to throw out.”

He was unbothered and took a few sauntering steps back towards the entrance of the tent.

“Still, I wouldn’t want you to think I was slacking on the job and quit paying me. Have fun getting dressed, Princess.”

Toji ignored the baring of your teeth and left just as quickly as Nanami did. You blew out a resigned sigh as you took a peek at the mountain of lace, fabric, and strings that hung from a corner of the tent and decided at that moment that you wished it was Toji being stuffed into a dress and primped within an inch of his life.

“He’s going to charm his way back into the refreshment tent and pass out,” you grumbled, and oh yes, that was seething jealousy you held for your bodyguard. Someone chuckled behind you, but was quick to prompt you to stand and disrobe.

Really, it couldn’t be that bad…right?

——————————————————————————————————

Some suspiciously placed tape, three assistants, and nearly forty five minutes later would prove you to be exceptionally wrong. Lace sleeves had been tugged up against sweaty arms, the strings at the back of your dress that held it together had been pulled and tied so tightly that you were hesitant to move too suddenly for fear of busting it, and the pins in your hair had been removed to let it lay as styled. You were one moment of heat induced lightheadedness away from falling over into the sand, and there would be no getting up after that. There was fabric clinging and swishing against your legs and you thought you had seen a train at the back of the dress, though that made no sense to you at all given what was planned to happen in front of a camera.

“Please,” you begged to anyone in the room that would listen. “Can I be done now? If I don’t get a breath of fresh air, I’m going to pass out.”

Your wish was acquiesced, and with the promise to not mess anything up, you made your great escape out of the tent and towards the edge of the ocean before anyone could change their mind. There was no need for any more hair to be pinned, makeup to be touched up, or fabric draped.

The water that went on endlessly for miles in front of you was a light blue and mostly calm in its movement for the day. Sandy beach on either side of you stretched out until you could just barely see it transition into rocky cliffs that helped form its crescent shape. If one could ignore the highway and paved parking lot a couple minutes walk behind you, it was almost like you were on a secluded island paradise.

Though the sun was still hot, the fresh air was successful in clearing your mind, and the salted mist of the water was enough to help balm the warmth under your dress. The multiple tents strewn across the sand each served their own niche purpose with people popping in and out of them all day. There was chatter about, people hustling from one side of the camped setup to the other and cameras placed strategically to capture whatever commercial or short that you and Satoru were supposed to film. However, no one paid you much mind at the moment, and you sidled up to where the water met the sand, dress held above your ankles so the waves could tickle your feet.

“Don’t you look pretty.”

Elated surprise made your heart leap at the sound of a familiar voice, and you whipped around with excitement written all over your face to meet the eyes of the handsome man behind you.

“Sukuna! What are you doing here?”

The man in question grinned, his expression half mischievous and maybe the slightest bit bashful, though no one would dare point it out. His pink hair was pushed back into its normal style, but due to the humidity, random pieces drooped down his forehead and into his eyes slightly. His tattoos were on full display in the tank top and swim trunks he was wearing. Every bit of him was a sight for your sore eyes. Sukuna opened his arms for you and it took only a moment of hesitancy before you stepped into them for a quick hug.

“Yuji and Choso wanted to go for a drive since the day was nice, and naturally Fushiguro tagged along. Coincidentally though, Yuji had us drive along the highway behind the setup you all got going on and ‘poof,’ here we are.”

You pulled back from Sukuna as he finished his sentence and gave him a small, happy wiggle of your shoulders. You made a note to remember how you felt his fingers dancing down languidly over the lace covering your arm and swirling gently around the edge of the sleeve that came to a point on the back of your hand before letting his arm fall back against his side.

“Well, I’m glad the four of you made it, coincidence or not,” you quipped at him. Your eyes still hadn’t left his and you knew it was going to be a struggle to wipe what had to be a lovestruck grin off your lips.

“You sure about that?”

Sukuna laughed and threw a hand back over his shoulder, gesturing towards what your eyes followed and found to be the refreshment tent. What you saw had you doubling over in laughter, or at least as far as you could in your dress.

Yuji and Choso, Sukuna’s brothers and bandmates, were struggling to stifle giggles as they hovered over a hulking figure laid out in a chaise underneath a misting fan. As you predicted, Toji was dead asleep, mouth agape and a half eaten cheeseburger dangling from a hand resting on his chest. What really set the whole thing apart was the way Yuji and Choso were surreptitiously trying to see how many french fries they could place in Toji’s mouth before he either woke up or started to choke when one inevitably fell back down his throat. In the corner, Megumi stood watching with barely concealed glee and a phone in his hand capturing the whole ordeal. You assumed that no matter what way this went, Megumi was bound to come out of it on top with either the joy of having comedic blackmail to hold over his father’s head or the pleasure of getting to watch him beat his friend’s asses. In the best case scenario, it was both.

You recovered from your laughter with a shake of your head and a measly deep breath before turning back to Sukuna. It was sucked right back out of you when you found his eyes trailing up from the tips of your toes, lingering at where the dress cinched your waist and then at the lace scalloping your chest before finally coming up to meet your eyes. His gaze was half lidded and heavier than usual, and it set your cheeks aflame in a way that you could never pass off as from the sun. He smirked when you stuttered over some inarticulate noise that had escaped your mouth, and you were about to take a giant step back to compose yourself when his face eventually softened. Sukuna offered you a quick wink, not so devious and more contrite than anything else, though it didn’t seem to affect your racing pulse any less, and then continued his tirade as he hooked his pinky finger around a lock of hair framing your eyes.

Somewhere in the back of your head choirs were singing and clouds were parting, but all you could think about was the hint of black polish on his nails that you spotted out of your peripheral and the growing number of people you could see beginning to take interest in the way Sukuna towered over you and how you didn’t seem to mind. You finally made space between the two of you by pressing your knuckles against his chest with just enough pressure to send the message. He obeyed and returned the small smile you sent his way to soften the gesture.

“So,” he started, his hands set deep in his pockets and a rock to his heels that would make anyone else look nervous, “what are you all waiting around for?”

Thankful for conversation to focus on, you threw your hands up to convey that you were just as confused as he was and followed it up with what you made to sound like the most logical and obvious explanation in the world;

“Sa-to-ru is late. Again.”

At the first enunciated syllable of Satoru’s name to leave your mouth, a corner of Sukuna’s nose quivered in disdain and he rolled his eyes in a way that was clearly disparaging, yet you found weakened your knees.

“Tell me about it. He most likely forgot or got caught up w—,”

The most ungracious snort left Sukuna’s nose, and you were so taken aback by the fact that it happened, and let alone found it attractive, that you missed whatever he had hissed under his breath.

“Tied up is probably more like it.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing important.”

His voice was too intentionally innocent and his face suspiciously cleared of any ill will for you to believe an ounce of what he said, but there was no chance in getting Sukuna to admit anything he didn’t want to, and you were more preoccupied with getting that look from earlier back in his eyes. So with that, you meandered back a few steps into the water and waited.

“So, tell me, what brilliant songwriting have you been up to, oh esteemed ‘King of Curses’, or is that strictly confidential, band member-only info?”

You knew asking Sukuna, or even Yuji or Choso, about their wildly popular band ‘The Curses’ was a sure fire way to get them talking about their shared passion, and it always brought a smile to your face to see them so excited. You expected the same now, but were caught off guard when Sukuna stumbled over the step he took to follow you and the brief way his face shuttered blank before he recovered. That act alone would have been enough to put an end to your flirty intentions—because you just knew that nickname of his got him riled up whenever it came out of your mouth—but the sensation of fabric being pulled tight against the back of your legs had you stopped. A quick glance down into the water confirmed that he had stepped on your dress and the extra fabric was beginning to swirl around his calves.

So that’s what the train was for! A devious, delicious idea began to form in your head and you knew you had only one chance to make it happen.

You glanced up at Sukuna through your eyelashes (he struggled to recall in that moment if they had always been that long or if it was the makeup making his mind fuzzy) and cocked your head gently to one side before beginning a slow prowl around him.

“What, no love songs or epic tales of star crossed romance have emerged from that practice studio of yours lately? Don’t tell me a cat has got your tongue?”

Ever focused on the way your lips curled into a sultry smile and the feather-light drag of your finger along the top of his shorts at his hip, Sukuna was unusually quiet as he followed you with his eyes. You began to pass behind his back and your circle was nearly halfway complete.

“Su-ku-na,” you called when you received no answer, watching as he gave a shake of his head as if to clear a haze from it.

“Quit being a brat and distracting me!”

There was no malice in his tone, but you could tell that he was being truthful. You had completed your circle and came to stand in front of him once again.

“I’m just waiting for you to answer my question,” you sing-songed.

Sukuna’s mouth stuttered open for a second and nothing came out before he finally seemed to collect himself, “No! No love songs, no sappy lyrics, and no star crossed romance. Who do you take me for?”

Your peals of laughter that followed his blurted response floated about the beach and seemed to soothe whatever had come over him in the last couple of minutes. In a haste, you cast a glance down at his legs to check that everything was in place.

“I’m just playing with you, Sukuna,” you cooed at him, “there’s no need to get defensive.”

His eyes narrowed and you watched with glee as he pulled himself up to his full height, leaned down into your face, and let a haughty smirk tug the corners of his mouth.

“You don’t want to play with me, Sweetheart. I. Play. Rough.”

“Hmm, you think so?”

You let a delicate, breathy sigh brush up against his mouth from yours while you arched your back slightly to press your chest against his. Sensing you had Sukuna’s full attention, you smoothed your leg between his to let the side of your foot trace oh so gently over the bone in his ankle. His breath hitched, and in the same moment you tipped your head back to close a fraction of distance between your lips, you also tightened your fingers in the furls of your dress.

“Really,” you whispered, “somehow I think that I play rougher.”

Yank.

Since he was already off balance when you ripped the fabric of your dress out and around from under his feet, it only took a quick sweep of your foot against Sukuna’s leg to keep the momentum going and to dump him and his gobsmacked expression into the knee-deep water of the ocean. You jumped back to avoid as much of the splash as you could, and in the same heartbeat, you lifted your dress and took off in the direction of the tents set back on the shore. Your plan was a success.

There were two oversights on your part, however, that became all too clear in the couple seconds after this monumental event took place.

One, the amount of water your dress accumulated and how much it now slowed you down due to its weight and tangle in your legs.

Two, which you really should have anticipated if you thought back on it, was the unbelievable amount of speed and agility with which Sukuna pushed himself out of the water, set a borderline maniacal look upon you that promised glorious retribution (you would have to question yourself later as to why this sent shivers down your back and warmth to places you would rather not think about), and thus began an inhumanly quick sprint towards you.

So, naturally, you did what any independent, perfectly capable woman would do; you screamed at the top of your lungs bloody murder for your bodyguard and high tailed it out of the ocean.

——————————————————————————————————

The first thing Toji wondered upon being awoken by the screams of a dying woman was why his mouth was full of french fries. He sputtered on the cold and soggy pieces in his mouth as he leapt from the chaise he had barely remembered falling asleep on and frantically looked out towards the water to see what fate he had let come upon you. Toji was certain there were only two possibilities.

One: he had fallen asleep on the job and you were now being eaten by a shark.

Two: he had fallen asleep on the job and you were now drowning in the ocean.

To his sleep addled brain, which was currently working through the onslaught of you shrieking his name, either option had an equally probable likelihood of occurring. The outcome, however? In both scenarios, there was only one logical conclusion. He was getting fired.

With that thought in mind, he started the process of becoming your own personal search and rescue. All in a flurry of forward movement, he kicked off his shoes, dropped the crumpled half eaten cheeseburger from his grasp, and flailed his hand around in his pocket to locate his wallet. He was not about to let his most important possession be lost to the tides—especially with the encroaching threat of unemployment looming over his head—and was about to seriously consider dropping his shorts to the ground altogether when he heard your screams reach a sudden pitch and then descend into hysterical laughter.

Toji took that as a sign to further scope out the situation in front of him and after rubbing sleep and sand from his eyes, he could now better understand that you weren’t actually in mortal danger. You were just flirting.

With the adrenaline that was previously coursing through his body now taking a sudden nosedive, Toji staggered back into the tent to plop onto his previously occupied chaise. While he was obviously relieved to see you weren’t dying, he was even more glad that he wasn’t going to have to call Shiu tomorrow and admit that his asset was dead and he was in need of a new job. Surely offers would be next to none, and he didn’t think he could handle guarding any more feisty starlets or listen to them vent about their secret love affairs with pink-haired band members…at least not without the blood pressure medication his doctor had threatened him with at his last check-up.

At the sound of muffled laughter to his left, Toji swung his gaze over to his son, a grin on Megumi’s face and phone in hand, and his son’s two idiot friends, both of whom were having to help hold the other up.

“Not you three now too,” he grumbled, standing up from his chaise and making his way over to where they stood. “What’s got you idiots making so much n—,”

Toji came to a sudden halt as Megumi’s hand lifted up to shove his cell phone in his face. His eyes squinted at the screen, the laughter from Yuji and Choso increasing in volume, and he needed only a second to process the video he was watching before snapping his head towards the two brothers.

“You bastards!”

Megumi watched as his father and two friends stared wide eyed at each other for a couple of seconds before they all took off running out of the tent and beyond. The thought of catching the pummeling that was coming the brother’s way once his father caught them was plenty enticing, but years of living with Toji Fushiguro taught him that he too was to be considered guilty as an accomplice, and thus making himself scarce was the wiser decision. Besides, there were plenty of cameras already rolling anyway.

——————————————————————————————————

You had taken only a couple of steps onto dry land before a set of well muscled arms locked around your midsection, lifted you clear off your feet, and jerked you back against a solid chest. Sukuna’s breathing was loud and heavy in your ear and you could feel water leaching through the back of your dress from where he pressed forward against you with the entirety of his body.

“That was naughty,” he taunted, and the low scratch of his voice made your feigned attempt to wrestle out of his hold falter.

Before you could say anything in response, in an impressive feat of strength, Sukuna once more swept you off your feet and planted you stomach down over his shoulder. He turned and began to wade back into the water, and it wasn’t until your view from beside his hips started to be filled entirely by water that you struggled—in earnest this time.

“Sukuna!” You gasped, trying to come up with some kind of plea that would keep you from your fate of being dropped into the ocean. “Suk-Sukuna, I can’t swim, I can’t swim!”

This wasn’t true in the slightest, but you hoped his concern for your safety would outweigh his need for vengeance. Just as the ends of your hair became engulfed by water, Sukuna dragged you back up from over his shoulder and slid you down his front until he could grasp at your thighs and pull them open around his hips. You threw your arms around his neck and prayed that the pleading look in your eyes would work.

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” was all the warning Sukuna gave before cocking an eyebrow at you and promptly falling flat backwards into the ocean with you secured against his chest. The two of you crashed into the water just in time for a wave to surge over you both. It was a cold shock to your system, but you had no more than a hiccup to process the feeling before Sukuna was up on his feet and trudging back to shore with you in his arms. You sputtered the whole way back and pawed at your face to pry a curtain of soaking wet hair from your eyes.

It was at the line where ocean became more sand than water that Sukuna stumbled, presumably from wet fabric caught in his legs again, and rotated mid-fall just quickly enough to save you from being squashed under him.

It took a minute for your combined unabashed laughter to subside, and when you finally caught your breath from where your head rested against the curve of his shoulder, you flew upwards. You swatted Sukuna’s chest when the glimpse of sparkling eyes and a full smile snagged your attention, and you hoped that the swaths of fabric pooling around the two of you was enough to disguise how you straddled his hips and that his fingers were tracing absentminded figures at their place right on the small of your back. Unable to control the flush of heat through your limbs, you exclaimed the first thing that popped into your head and then immediately regretted it.

“Sukuna, I’m completely soaked!”

The quickness of the wicked grin that spread across his face astounded you, and when you noticed his lips begin to part, to no doubt retort something highly inappropriate for the given situation, you slapped a hand over his mouth. His smile was still present under your palm, his eyes soft and adoring, and you swore you felt him place a small kiss at the meat of your thumb.

“AND CUT!”

The director’s shout was enough to shatter the intimate quiet that had gone unnoticed by you two, and the both of you lurched just far enough apart to separate your bodies but remain near enough for the bump of a knee or shoulder. Before you could even gather your bearings enough to understand what was going on, a tall shadow appeared over you, and you leaned your head back to squint up at whoever it was.

“That was certainly entertaining.”

You recognized the voice of Satoru’s manager just as he held out a hand to help you to your feet, and you shot him a look of dismay once you steadied yourself.

“It’s nice of you and your client to finally grace us with your presence, Geto,” you replied dryly.

Geto shrugged, not a single care evident on that pretty face of his, and brought your attention to the crowd gathered behind him with a flourish of his hand. You took a tentative glance at what he was referring to and nearly cringed when you caught sight of the numerous cameras pointed at you and Sukuna. Not to mention Nanami, who stood next to the director with a hand pressed up against his temple like he was in great pain. Though from the small smile you could just barely make out and the animated chatter from the director into Nanami’s ear, you assumed that what had just transpired wasn’t such a bad thing. Even Toji, who was a couple feet behind them with Yuji and Choso in head locks under each of his arms, looked like he had gotten quite the chuckle out of the whole thing.

“It seems like the film was still able to get captured well enough without us,” Geto remarked. “I don’t believe there’s any reason to re-do anything with Satoru just for the sake of appearances.”

You were about to open your mouth to make known your agreement to the idea when Sukuna suddenly threw an arm around your shoulder and popped back at Geto with a brusque “hell no.” You weren’t sure if you felt offended or disappointed by his objection, but before you could start to fret over it, Sukuna was stroking his thumb gently across the back of your neck, and you proceeded to melt into his side. Perhaps his initial disagreement had less to do with his reluctance to be seen as part of the project and instead had everything to do with him making sure you had the full ability to determine how much of him at your side you were ready to share with the world. The thought had you giddy.

“I have zero objections to using the film with Sukuna.”

There was a jubilant cheer from all the staff once they heard your words, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from the satisfied look on Sukuna’s face that followed them.

“Ah, question,” he called out suddenly, making pointed eye contact with the director, and even Nanami too. “By agreeing to this, that means she doesn’t have to frolic around here with the white-hair idiot, right?”

Over the immediate roar of laughter from everyone around, an indignant “hey!” could be heard from the nearby makeup tent, and for just once, you were grateful for Satoru’s inability to ever be on time.

——————————————————————————————————

Part 2

Notes: If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you didn't catch it, the line "Somehow I think that I [you] play rougher" is taken from a scene in the Vampire Diaries (I was obsessed). Did I also get inspiration from that scene in the horse movie Spirit for Sukuna and Reader's moment in the water? Yes, yes I did.

Also, in my decade and a half of reading fan fiction, I have not once written or posted any of my own. So if I miss something important, please kindly let me know.

Always feel free to share comments, thoughts, or questions <3

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #nanami kento #gojo satoru

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months

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With Playful land ending soon, can you try which part of the Halloween event is better which is either Playful Land or Glorious Masquerade? For example, the topic is characters and you picked Glorious Masquerade because of etc like that. (NRC cast design, NRC cast role, Yuu and Grimm's role, New character/s, Movie-inspiration event, Plot, Music, Place Setting, Opening, Ending) You can add more topics if you want.

By “better”, I’m going to assume you mean which (between Glorious Masquerade and Stage in Playful Land) I preferred in each of those categories? (I say "preferred" here because I'm judging based on my own tastes; obviously everyone will have a different opinion on how the two events compare.)

It’s quite a few to get through, so I’ll just quickly summarize each. This post will also serve as my general thoughts on Stage in Playful Land.

***Spoilers for those two events below the cut!!***

NRC cast design — I’d say the designs are pretty split down the center?? In theory, I love the concept of masquerade balls and marionettes, but in practice the designs look all over the place and I really only like a select few of them.

NRC cast role — GloMasq was stronger in this, especially the choices for the SSR trio. Malleus and Idia are a deliberate rival and foil to Rollo, whereas Azul’s UM comes in clutch during the final showdown. Meanwhile in Playful Land only Kalim seemed to be very significant story-wise; he was the one trying to convince everyone to sit down, eat, and try to understand Fellow’s motives, is the last to be captured, and gives the big speech about how he’ll never abandon his friends + the importance of school. Ace has his usual schtick of being brutally honest and there are some parts where Ortho’s robotic abilities come in handy (like playing sounds to distract the puppets), but these seem like very minor roles compared to what the GloMasq trio did. Perhaps they were good choices for the end when they all decided to destroy the amusement park though??

I also feel like some things the SSR trio does in Playful Land (like dispersing the puppets by using a “lost item”) could have been done by any smart or deceptive character (Leona, Vil, Cater, etc.), not just the SSRs (ie Ace). Furthermore, the other cast members in GloMasq seem much more important in how they split off and battle—there are good reasons or synergy given as to why they pair up the way they did (ie Riddle and Epel needing to be good flyers, Ruggie and Jamil willing to use others as meat shields, etc), while in Playful Land it seems more random (like Floyd losing interest) or obligatory (mostly the third years stepping up to defend the younger students).

It’s also anticlimactic how Fellow just let them all go??? Especially compared to Malleus, Idia, and Azul and Rollo squaring off to the bitter end.

Yuu and Grim’s role — Once again, this goes to GloMasq. In Playful Land, Yuu is automatically caged and tossed into a corner to wait it out to the climax. At least in GloMasq Yuu is actually doing something (even if it is offscreen): they’re with Grim and Trein, helping the townspeople from the flowers. (Note: I’m not entertaining the “but Yuu is magicless! It was a wasted opportunity for them not to have a bigger role in GloMasq!” thing because I’m talking only about canon and not hypotheticals here.)

New character(s) — … Do you even need to ask 😭 Obviously, I’m loyal to Roro-chan Rollo; I just find his story and character to be super interesting, especially with the root of his conflict being inner turmoil and an inability to move on… It makes him an excellent foil to Idia.

While I do also enjoy Fellow and Gidel, I feel that I’m not as invested in them because despite the terrible dark shit they're doing, the conflict they get wrapped up in gets resolved in an underwhelming manner. Plus, there was not a lot of elaboration on their own backstories?? It was mostly told to us via Fellow, yet kept so vague that the fans are left to fill in many missing details on their own. I’ll have another post out later going into more depth with how I feel about Fellow and Gidel.

Movie-inspiration — I think both events have their moments of film inspiration. A lot of GloMasq's comes through in the traditions and culture of the city, whereas Playful Land's are embedded into the games, foods, rides, and attractions in the park itself. Playful Land feels more overt because of how flashy everything is, but also because it's not really based on any real-world area (unlike the City of Flowers/Fleur City, which is fantasy Paris and therefore also has Paris elements) it has to stand on its own. They don't need to worry about developing a unique "culture" for a smaller area like a park; they can just cut loose and have everything be fun and whimsical like Pleasure Island is. For this reason, I feel that Playful Land has stronger movie ties.

Side note: I want to put out the disclaimer that I personally don’t think how much an event references its source material should be counted when evaluating the quality of its writing. Just because you mention things from the film or reinterpret them doesn’t mean the story itself is good.

Music — I’m going to give this one to Glorious Masquerade because while the tracks are nice for both (I love the dramatic bells in GloMasq and the eerie music box of Playful Land, and both songs with lyrics are also great!). However, the narrative context and meaning behind the songs with lyrics are very different, and I feel that this makes Let My Wish Resound performance that much more meaningful. Additionally, Playful Land introduced a sung version of Rave Up! Up! in part 3 (even if it was just the first half of it) whereas GloMasq saved its sung version for part 5, which grants us more time to get hype. (I also like the rhythmic/twistune of the boys dancing over the boys… idk, dancing and doing property damage for funsies.)

Opening — Both openings do a good job at building up the hype for the ominous events to come, but again GloMasq wins on a technicality… which is the quality of the evil laughs given during them 💀 Fellow’s is kinda weak (like it stutters and sounds like he’s out of breath), at least Rollo can do a slow, unabashed laugh like a proper villain/j

Setting — This one’s suuuuper subjective; I don’t really like amusement parks I know, I’m boring so that automatically means I don’t find Playful Land to be a compelling or interesting setting (even if it fits thematically). I’d much rather just be allowed to wander and explore a city unsupervised, get to learn about its history and culture by experiencing it myself. GloMasq’s City of Flowers/Fleur City allows Twisted Wonderland to be expanded so much more (like, thinking about how this city relates to other cities and countries), whereas one isolated floating park doesn’t add much to the overall world lore.

Plot — Playful Land was so… boring 🤡 I’M SORRY, IT’S TRUE (to me)????? Like, they were just aimlessly wandering around during the second half of the event (even though it should be obvious that Fellow is at the theater)???? While at least in GloMasq they knew where to go (the bell tower) right away and strategized around that… Plus, we keep switching perspectives between the captured boys and the action, which bogs down the pacing. GloMasq keeps the action going and only takes very brief pauses to check in on our villain for the evening. There was way too much time spent meandering and not enough time spent actually Doing Things in Playful Land.

Stakes — GloMasq’s were higher. This isn’t to say that higher stakes automatically means the event itself is good. It’s just that the same urgency isn’t present in Playful Land because the scope of it is not as grand. If the crimson flowers/fire lotuses spread, there is no stopping them—and it endangers many people, communities, industries, etc. if they do. Meanwhile, a handful of people go missing in Playful Land. It’s still tragic, and their losses will still impact their loved ones—however, that’s still on a smaller scale than what the flowers would have done to their world.

Ending — GloMasq trumps. It’s just perfect how Rollo indicates he won’t give up and then drops ominous lines foreshadowing Malleus bringing ruin to them all (ie book 7) 😂 Love the pettiness of the banter, the ballroom setting, the perfectly timed delivery of the gift/song, and especially how Rollo’s punishment was so perfectly fitting for someone as neurotic and self-righteous as he is!! Also loved little details like the gargoyle and Trein wanting to keep an eye on Rollo 💕

The conflict resolution for Playful Land felt like a deus ex machina…? Fellow’s literally about to win (he caught them all) and the boys get let off the hook because Fellow had a change of heart. The boss told him it will cost a lot to repair the destroyed puppets so it’s coming out of his paycheck… That, and I guess all the stuff the boys were saying about how great school is finally got to him? Fellow got so fed up he called the whole thing off???? So he releases everyone and they all go around busting up the park???? I mean, they did foreshadow it by pointing out earlier how Fellow isn’t loyal to his boss + showing more phone calls where the boss is getting increasingly annoyed 💦 so it’s not as anticlimactic as Endless Halloween Night (one of my least liked events). I just mainly dislike how the conflict is triggered in part by Fellow’s boss being rude 😭 Like damn, what if his final straw hadn’t been claimed??? Then everyone is screwed.

At the very end, Fellow and Gidel decide to go on the run?? Which… isn’t an easy thing to do but it’s hand waved away so fast. If the staff meant for it to feel this way because the original Pinocchio also left Honest John and Gideon’s fates ambiguous and they did show remorse for their victims 💦 idk, it’s cases like this that make me think TWST is at its best when it does more of its own thing rather than strongly stick to the source material…

I also have?? Mixed thoughts on how TWST doesn’t follow up on the whole “yeah a bunch of rich people are caught up in running a human trafficking operation using this scary ass magic”. I know crime must exist in TWST, so in a sense this is… realistic??? But it feels odd to see such a big thing being casually mentioned and not being treated with full gravity?? (Maybe these are the types of crimes that special mage police defense forces (like the one Deuce wants to join) investigate??) Guess that’s just going to sit in the back of our heads from now on… It’s not satisfying seeing a story “end” like this, but I understand why it had to be 😭

The cathartic release of breaking down the park that once trapped them all is fun, but too goofy. I know it symbolizes a lot more than that, but it’s just not for me.

And so (to no one's surprise, given the frequency with which I talk about R*llo), I much prefer Glorious Masquerade to Stage in Playful Land. It's not even a contest to me. A certain pseudo-French boy aside, I just think the former has much better writing overall. By comparison, Stage in Playful Land has a very strong aesthetic and start, but not much else to keep me engaged??? It was an entertaining if not mid event aside from the big scare when the twist is initially revealed (because none of us expected it to be that dark) and minor other parts like Kalim’s big speech. The rest of the event felt like walking around and not doing anything useful.

I honestly think the failure of Playful Land to execute on its ideas comes in part from the hype of Halloween events (like, so much attention is put onto them that when Halloween events flop, it is SUPER noticeable) and the legacy of GloMasq (which set the bar VERY high) 💦 A shame, really…

Anyway, round of applause for Roro, who stays winnin’--

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m0llygunn · 11 months

Text

Rockstar's Daughter (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

Summary: Pulling Eddie into your responsibility-less dreamland, you get upset when he has to leave you to get back to 'reality'. When he comes back with a surprise for you, you grant him a very special reward.

Contents: 18+! smut, mature language, oral (m receiving), p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, dead rockstar father, porn with plot. Takes place in early 2000s, eddie and r in their early 20s. a/n: Yesterday was my birthday so I spent my lazy morning today writing this for you guys! I also hit 200 followers yesterday- which is exceptionally cool and soso crazy because I only started posting less than a month ago. Thank you for all the interactions on my other stories, I would love for feedback so I can write more of what you guys like! Ty again and enjoy!! This is inspired by the movie Uptown Girls, which is my favourite movie ever (thus the username lol). wc: 4.2k+

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

“What? You wanted to fuck the rockstars daughter so you could go home and tell all your little friends? Is that it?” You spit, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No! That’s not— that’s not what I was trying to do.” He says, pulling the hem of his shirt down before untucking his hair from the neckline.

“So what were you trying to do?” You ask, watching as he pulls his shoes on. He finishes putting them on, omitting from tying them before standing up straighter, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. He looks into your eyes deeply and you can tell he’s trying to choose his words wisely.

“I like you. I just— I can’t live in your dreamland. I have 4 gigs this week and I already missed practice. Plus, I have a meeting tomorrow and I haven’t prepared for it at all, and I haven't even had a chance to call my band mates back.” He says, growing more uptight as he continues in his long list of abandoned responsibilities.

“Leave.” You say, shrugging his grip off. His eyes flash hurt before his mouth presses shut firmly, clenching his jaw. He brings a hand to his face, rubbing at his chin before opening his mouth again.

“I just need to go back to the real world for a few days, sorry I can’t stay here and live in your fairytale forever.” He says, adding too much attitude and contest for your liking.

You cross the apartment, opening the front door, motioning with your arm for him to leave.

Closing the distance between the two of you, he stops in front of you, eyes meeting yours once again.

“I’ll call you.” He says, features turning soft.

“Don’t bother, I would hate to taint your sense of reality.” You retort.

“I’ll call you.” He says firmer. He steps forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek before looking at you. You don’t say anything in response.

With a soft nod, Eddie leaves and you shut the door behind him with a long sigh.

You met Eddie at a party. Running in the music crowd because of who your father was, your friend is a music producer and manager. He had found Eddie at some dingy dive bar performing and swore up and down that his band was gonna be the next best thing in music and because of that, he brought Eddie along to the party to introduce him to Reggie Records, owner of big time music label, RR Music.

As soon as you saw Eddie, you knew you had to have him. There was just something about him that demanded your attention and once he had it, there was no losing it.

Then before you knew it, he was over at your apartment.

It was 4 days of uninterrupted time with Eddie. He calls it a ‘dreamland’ or a ‘fairytale’, you call it life. Life is precious and gone in a blink of an eye, you’re gonna live your life how you want to.

Your father was a rockstar. After a fatal accident, he became nothing more than a memory. A memory that left you, young and broken hearted, stranded amongst a crowd of grownups, forcing you to grow up.

Growing up was too scary though, so you never did. Through your childhood and into your teen years, you daydreamed about running away, living amongst other dreamers with no responsibilities where nothing could hurt you. When you were off on your own, you got your apartment and turned it into your sanctuary. A place where you could live happily ever after.

You get where Eddie’s coming from. Your friends never fail to tell you how disconnected you are, but it’s easier this way. It’s easier to live in a world where all you have to do is hang out with friends, shop, order in, and call maid services. But all that aside, the easiest thing was the last 4 days you spent with Eddie. With your intuition never faltering, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. And that’s why the fight transpired when he finally had to face reality and leave you behind.

He left you in your dreamland. Left you to return to your responsibility-less life, fantasizing through your days and partying through your nights. A rockstar's daughter through and through, just without the rockstar father.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You’ve spent the last week and a half groveling in your own pity. Your friend had come over to cheer you up but she ended up mostly just nagging you about cleaning up and doing something else besides wasting your time away, hung up on a boy.

You had given yourself a pep talk that morning, vowing to drop him from your mind. You took a shower, got ready and were about to leave your apartment for the first time in a week when your phone ringing interrupted you.

“Hey, it’s Eddie.” His low voice vibrating on the other end of the line.

“Eddie who?” You say, remembering how he said he’d call, yet it took him 11 days to do so.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Eddie who?” You say harshly.

“Munson.” He says with a deep sigh.

“Oh, the Eddie who lives in ‘the real world’?” You retort.

“Sure.” He says, sighing again. “Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner?”

“Why?”

“I told you, I like you.” He says and your heart patters in your chest. You pause, gathering your thoughts. Sure, you spend the last almost 2 weeks of your life wallowing in your own self-pity over him, but you’re not about to let him off the hook like that just because he says he likes you.

“You got a funny way of showing it.” You say, lamely.

“So dinner? Tonight? How’s 7 sound?” He proceeds, ignoring your comment entirely.

“Eddie—.” You start but he interrupts you.

“I’ll pick you up. We can go to that place near you that we ordered from, the one you said you like.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A knock at the door pulls you away from your vanity. You’re infamously running late as usual, which normally you’d feel no particular way about, but since Eddie already thinks you’re living in some made up fantasy world, you're struck with a sense of embarrassment.

“Hey, beautiful.” Eddie greets as you open the door.

“Eddie.” You say indifferently.

“I would ask if you’re ready but…” he laughs, motioning up to the roller in the front of your hair and down to the dressing robe you’re wearing.

“Eddie, I’m running a little late, please hold off on the hurtful jokes.” You say, widening the door for him to come in.

“No jokes, got it.” He says, pulling you into him with a hand around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

With your belly dipping in nerves, when he lets you go you turn around, walking back to your room. Silently, he trails along after you, taking a seat on your bed.

“We got an ETA?” He asks.

“No jokes I said.”

“S’not a joke, pretty girl, it’s a question.” He says, smiling at you through your vanity mirror. His smile spreads from ear to ear, his eyes twinkling in the lowlights of your room.

“You’re in a good mood.” You say, pulling the rollers out of your hair.

“We’re celebrating tonight.” He says, sitting up straighter, eyes still glued to your reflection.

“Celebrating?” You question, turning in your seat to look at him directly rather than just through the mirror.”

“We got signed.” He says, dimples setting deep on his cheeks.

“Seriously?” You exclaim, feeling your heart skip a beat. Eddie smiles bigger and you can’t help your own smile spreading on your face.

“Seriously. We had the meeting yesterday, and it went fan-fucking-tastic.” He smiles, eyes beaming with excitement. “Then they called this morning and sent over the paperwork. We’re signed.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You shriek, standing up and bounding for him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hug him with all your force, pressing your chest to his.

“Between ‘Eddie who?’ and ‘Eddie who lives in the real world’, it didn’t exactly fit into the conversation on the phone.” He laughs, buckling under your weight and falling back onto the mattress.

“Are you kidding? You got signed, Eddie, that fits into every conversation.” You say, pulling back to look at him, gleaming with your own excitement. “I’m so happy for you.” You say, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you.” He mutters shyly. “So that’s why we’re celebrating.” He says excitedly, still smiling when you pull back to look at him again.

“And you wanted to celebrate with me?” You ask, pouting, your lower lip jetting out.

“Absolutely, which reminds me, I have something to show you.” He says, shifting under you, pulling a CD out of his jacket.

“A CD?” You question curiously, still smiling.

“Yeah… the day after I left here, we had a meeting and they wanted something different— you know, to hear some diversity in our sound.” He says, eyes flickering down to the CD in his hands, nervously fumbling with it. “I had already kind of started working on this the night before, and… this is the song that got us signed.” He says, exhaling before redirecting his gaze back to you with a shy smile. You raise your brows.

“New song?” You ask quietly, feeling a buzz of excitement but winding it back due to Eddie’s growing shy nature.

“New song.” He confirms, smile deepening.

You take the CD from him, sitting us quickly and rushing to your CD player on the shelf. He follows after you, leaning against your dresser while you start up the disc.

“Now, before you start it, I think I should tell you the name of the song.” He says playfully, a hint of a sly taunt in his voice, shyness put on the back burner.

“Okay, tell me the name.” You laugh.

“Rockstar’s Daughter.”

Your jaw drops in surprise.

“It’s about me?” You ask, eyes going wide.

“The one and only.” He smiles.

Throwing yourself in Eddie’s arms, squeezing him tightly around his neck, he squeezes you back around your waist.

“Okay, okay. Play it, I want you to hear it.” He laughs. You keep squeezing him so he turns, stepping you both closer so that he can hit play on your CD player.

Still hanging off of Eddie, music trickles from the CD player. It starts off slow, with a gentle acoustic guitar, way different from everything else he’s played you.

When the lyrics come in, you are nearly swept clean off your feet from Eddie’s gentle voice. It’s a ballad, working up as the song builds on.

When the words 'Rockstar's Daughter’ sing out, you point to yourself, cheeks tight with your smile being so big.

“Me?” You whisper to Eddie.

“You.” He whispers back with a nod. You squeeze him tighter in your arms.

The lyrics continue, listening intently, and you laugh when he starts describing your ‘fairytale dreamland’ and how he wants to stay there forever.

The song starts to build up and so does the beating of your heart. Looking at Eddie, his eyes are bubbling with amusement, sparkling as he watches you. Your eyes trailing lower, his lips are plump and inviting.

You squeeze him tighter once again before bringing your lips to his.

You kiss him fervently, all of your happy emotions bubbling up at once. He brings his hand up to your jaw, his mouth working against yours with just as much passion. Opening your mouth, he’s quick to lick into you, tongue gentle at first as it caresses yours.

“I love the song.” You mumble against his mouth. You feel his lips turn up at the corners.

“It’s not even done yet.” He says, laughing softly, returning to the kiss immediately. You continue kissing him until it comes to an end, music fading out.

“Restart it.” You mumble, when the song stops completely.

Still kissing you, Eddie turns your body as he attempts to restart the song. His mouth falters against yours for a moment while he figures out your CD player, but he eventually gets it, the track restarting from the top.

You pull away from him, hitting the little loop button before grabbing his hand and pulling him to the edge of your bed.

You seamlessly untie your dressing robe, letting it fall to the floor, revealing your naked body.

Eddie’s eyes widen, his jaw slacking as his eyes roam over you.

“Thought you didn’t like my ‘fairytale dreamland’?” You tease.

“Never said that.” He replies, swallowing thickly.

You bring your hands to his shoulders, pulling his jacket down from the collar, letting it drop to the floor.

“You kind of did.” You reply.

“I love your little world here in your apartment. I would stay in it forever if I could.” He says, eyes flickering to yours. You grasp onto the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and when he lifts his arms you pull it over his head. His hair cascades down, resting back onto his bare shoulders as you drop the material to the floor.

“You could.” You reply, hands trailing over his chest.

“I wouldn’t have written this song if I stayed.” He replies, bringing a hand to your cheek, holding it tenderly, warm eyes staring into yours.

“The song’s pretty good.” You say, hearing his voice sing in the background of your conversation.

“Pretty good?” He smiles, raising a brow.

“Really good.” You smile back.

“Good. I’m glad you like it.” He says. You let your eyes trail down his face again, traveling further downwards until stopping at his tattoo over his heart.

“I love it.” You whisper, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of the inked design.

“S’all for you. Every word.” He says, weaving his hand into your hair gently. You press more kisses onto his chest, traveling back up until you're kissing up his neck.

“I love every word of it.” You whisper, punctuating your sentiment with a wet kiss under his ear. You let your hands fall to his belt line, taking the cold metal into your grip, working at getting it open.

“I missed you. It’s hard out there in the real world.” He says teasingly. You smile, pulling away from his neck to look at him.

“Really? You should bring me out there sometime.” You tease back.

“Was trying to, but uh— don’t know if we’ll make it to dinner now.” He says, lowering his eyes to where your hands have paused on his belt.

You pull the buckle loose, undoing his pants before he dips his face to you, pressing kisses along your cheek, down your jaw, craning his neck to press kisses all the way down to your collarbone.

You pull him by the loops of his pants closer to the bed, making him sit on the edge before you pull at his pants. He lifts his hips, allowing for you to tug them down and discard them on the floor, his boxers following suit.

You settle on your knees in front of him and the song restarts from the beginning again.

“You gonna make me listen to my own song?” He laughs.

“Listen to your own song while I suck your dick? Yes.” You say keeping an air of innocence in your voice, all while looking up at him through your lashes.

“Really?” He laughs again, eyes fanning from your face down to where your hands connect with his thighs.

“You wrote it about me, I can do whatever I want with it.” You purr. You take his hardening cock in your hands, running your fist down it before kitten licking the tip.

“Fuck— yeah you can.” He groans, his length kicking up under your grasp. You spit on the head, spreading the wetness downwards.

When he’s wet enough, you bring your fist up and down before bringing your mouth back to his length, pressing a kiss right onto the flushing tip.

“Missed you, Eddie.” You say sweetly, taking the tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck gently as first.

“Shit, missed you too.” He gasps, voice getting strangled in his chest. You swirl your tongue around his tip before flattening it, taking him further into your mouth.

You twist your wrists, running your hands up and down his length, bobbing your head shallowly. He’s quickly a moaning mess in your grasp, and you feel yourself growing hotter, clenching your thighs for relief.

You remove one hand, taking him deeper in your mouth and he brings his hand to the side of your face, pushing your hair out of the way. You lean into his hold and he gets the hint, guiding you up and down.

You pull up, taking a breath, strings of spit still connecting you to him, before diving back down. You remove your second hand from his length, relaxing your throat and letting him glide right in, his hand on your head holding you there, his cock pressed against the back of your throat.

“F-fuck. Feels so good, baby.” He groans, eyes squeezing shut. His hand lets up on the back of your head just as you feel your lungs tightening, and you rise sputtering for air, catching your breath.

“Wanna ride you, Eddie.” You whine, unable to ignore the pulsing of desire between your legs for any longer.

“C’mon baby. Come ride me.” He says breathily, offering you a hand up. As you rise, he pulls you onto the bed before using his arms to scootch himself to the headboard, leaning against it.

He offers you his hand and you take it, stabilizing yourself as you swing your leg over his hips.

Moving your hand to his chest, you use your other hand to guide his length to your entrance.

Sinking down onto him, a harmonized moan leaves both of your lips, the soft strum of the song restarting once again still playing in the background.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna write a song about your pussy next.” He groans lowly, making you laugh softly.

“Yeah? What’re you gonna write about it?” You ask, through a heavy breath.

“How fucking good it is. So tight, hugging my cock so perfectly.”

“Can't wait to hear it.” You moan, as you lift your hips from his, lowering yourself back down slowly.

“Your pussy was made for me. S’fucking perfect.” He says, bringing his hands to your hips, helping you continue to lift yourself off of him.

You start at a slow pace, working yourself up and down, taking his full length right down to his base. You feel your belly grow antsy, needing more, and you start grinding yourself against him after each sink, your clit rubbing perfectly against him.

“Fuck, Eddie. Your cock feels so good, fills me up so good.” You moan out, dropping your head to rest against his chest. With one arm, he pulls you closer to him. He lifts you enough for his hips to shift under you, helping you by meeting you halfway with each of your movements as your legs start to grow tired.

You keep going, thighs pushing you up and down on his cock until they burn, aching for relief. His hips make up for your tiredness, still continuing to buck up into you.

“Want me to take over, baby? Fuck you just how you like it?” He rasps, hand rubbing up and down your back as his hips start to slow.

“Please, Eddie. Need you to.” You whimper.

He helps you lift up off of him. Taking your hips in his hands, he starts moving you to shift onto your hands and knees but you place a hand over his chest, motioning for him to pause. Over the four days at your apartment, he discovered that he could pull the best orgasms from you like that, but you stop him, wanting to be on your back this time.

“Want to see you, Eddie.” You say, voice coming out in a whine.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips. His mouth works against yours as he helps you lower to the bed, head hitting the pillow softly as he hovers over you.

When he pulls away from the kiss, he maneuvers your legs, taking them in his hands by your knees, hiking them up as you spread them out for him.

“Look at your pretty pussy. You look so beautiful laid out like this for me.” He whispers huskily.

“Better write that down for your new song.” You whisper back, making his lips quirk up into a smile, huffing softly.

He brings his hand down to your core, letting his thumb stroke the expanse of your slit, stopping at your clit.

“So fucking wet too.” He says under his breath.

“All for you, Eddie.” You whisper, canting your hips for more friction.

He starts rubbing his thumb in little circles on your clit making you gasp.

“Please, Eddie. Need you inside.” You whine, hips bucking as he presses harshly on your clit just to watch you squirm.

“Perfect pussy.” He groans under his breath, taking his glistening cock in his hand, lining up with your sopping hole.

When he pushes in, you hum happily feeling him stretch you open.

He presses into you deeply, knowing exactly how you like it already. The head of his cock drags against your sweet spot as he pulls out and it has you chorusing moans, accompanying the build up of his song still playing in the background.

“Sound so pretty, baby.” He rasps, breath catching in his throat as he pushes back into you quicker, balls slapping against your ass.

“You sound so pretty.” You breathe, starting to get lost in the pleasure but trying to hold onto the faint singing of his voice coming from across the room.

You feel your belly start to tense, and when he returns his thumb to your clit your breathing turns into harsh little pants.

“Just like that, Eddie. Feels so good.” You whimper.

His thrusting continues, getting faster and harder, building up with the volume of your moans. Your belly grows impossibly tight, euphoria threatening to spill.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours binds perfectly with the gentle instruments in the song, perfectly complimenting the moans and whimpers coming from Eddie as he pounds into you.

You feel yourself getting close and rapture quickly boils over, not even giving you a chance to tell Eddie.

Every beautiful cascading symphony slowly fades in your ears as your pleasure bursts, tightened belly exploding with ecstasy, all thoughts leaving your head as Eddie carries you through your orgasm.

“Fuck— fuck. Just squeezing my cock, baby.” He groans, thrusts starting to go sloppy. “Gonna cum, g-gonna—” He grunts, cock pressing deeply into you as his cum shoots inside, painting your walls pearly white. His hips jerk and stutter as he works himself through his own orgasm, and you slowly recover from your own.

When his hips come to a halt, you reach out your arms, beckoning for him to come to you, to press his chest to your own and feel his body on top of yours. He complies, arms caging around you, lowering himself as gently as he can.

As soon as he settles against you, the crescendo of the song in the background comes to an end, fading to silence, like a perfectly timed soundtrack.

When it restarts again, you can’t help but laugh.

“I love my song.” You say, exhaling with a happy sigh.

“Fuck— can’t wait for you to hear the next one I’m gonna write.” He laughs softly.

You hum quietly to yourself feeling beyond content. If this is some fairytale dreamland, so be it. You have a beautiful man here with you, writing you lovey ballads.

“You doing anything the next couple of days?” He asks, popping his head up from your chest.

“Why?” You ask, a smile already rising on your lips.

“Gotta a few days off until we start recording more stuff.”

“Yeah?” You question, willing him to continue. He uses his arms to push himself up enough to see you better.

“I was thinking…” He starts, brows rising to hide under his messy bangs. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to spend them with you? Maybe we can go out and do stuff too? Like the date I wanted to take you on?” He says, voice going timid and smile turning sheepish as he progresses in his proposal.

You purse your lips, letting your eyes wander the room as you pretend to think it over. When you focus back on Eddie, his eyes bleed a faint nervousness.

“I’m going to keep that song on repeat, just so you know.” You say, grinning as you look up at him. He smiles back, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Does fairytale dreamland have a new soundtrack?” He teases.

“Yes.” You reply firmly, before pulling him to your lips, kissing him.

Not only does fairytale dreamland have a new soundtrack, it seems to have a new willing resident too.

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ty!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

392 notes · View notes

eijakushingomel · 4 months

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"...And Then There Were None."

(Title inspired from Agatha Christie)

They were the first.

The first five who descended from the Oven above, baked specially by the Witches to lead cookiekind to greater height. Salt was his key ingredient. Solidarity was his purpose.

The rest, each baked specifically by the Witches' taste. One was sweet for pure joy. Another was spice for new evolution. In the end, that was what they were. The first five cookies to lead the other baked goods in Earthbread.

Each of them led their tribe in their own specific way, in their own territory. He heard from the soft murmurs that Mystic Flour had been the leader their depended on, pointing their options and gently cared them with kind gaze. Eternal Sugar had been an optimistic type. There wasn't a single passing day without the blast of music and cheers from her side.

Burning Spice perhaps was the most chaotic. Brimming with chaos and thirst for change. For something new. For something exciting as those eagerness for burning spiciness. Shadow Milk was...eccentric in his own way. Always there to learn something new. Always there with questions in their minds and curiosity of their surroundings.

And his was solidarity. No voices would be unheard. All voices had a chance to speak up and raise their opinions. It was a teamwork community, and he had always prided himself on it. To his people and the rest, he may be silent, yet he was bold and loud at the same time. To his comrades, he was a walking phrase of 'action was louder than word'.

He didn't pay any attention to any of those. He could talk like any other cookies. He just chose not to. He didn't see the need to be seen. He was there for one thing, and that was solidarity.

The Earthbread was peaceful. It was a great time of living. He loved it, although only the closest to him would notice his adoration. He loved where he was now. And with the blade gifted specially from the Witches, he shall use it on his enemies. To those who dared to break the teamwork. To those who silence others. That was the purpose of him and hid blade.

It was peaceful.

Until—

Burning Spice came with a bloody axe and terrified grim. Ashes and smokes trailed after his steps.

There wasn't the need for words to tell what he had done.

"I–I was too excited. They wanted something—anything new and more! I–I tried to fulfill their request, I really did—but..."

He cuts himself off with a hollow gaze. So, so different from the energetic comrade he used to know. Shadow Milk was the first to comfort him. With an assuring smile and twinkling eyes, the blue cookie had told their hollow pal that he could handle it—and he will.

So he watched silently as Shadow Milk walked away. Confidence in his stance, intelligent backing him up. Eternal Sugar had wished him good luck, while Mystic Flour had told him to stay wise. Burning Spice had retreated to a corner, complimenting his unexpected actions.

He stayed silent.

Shadow Milk came back with the same confidence. He had declared that the problem had been settled. Nothing worse will follow after Burning Spice, and Eternal Sugar had thanked the Witches for the continuous peace. Mystic Flour nodded approvingly. Burning Spice had looked relief, yet there was still those that haunted him. His grip on his axe had easened, but he hadn't sheathed it.

And Shadow Milk, was grinning a Cheshire smile. But there was something off. There was uncertainty. There was doubt. He had asked his genius partner about it, but the other only shrugged it off.

"You're thinking too much, friend. And overthinking was Mystic Flour's speciality."

He earned a bark of wood thrown at him. The ever smiling cookie laughed, casually slipping away from him to teetered the pale gold robe cookie. Perhaps Shadow Milk had gone away rather too fast, but he stayed silent.

The peace continued, but it was never for long.

Eternal Sugar came one day, with tiredness in her eyes and less graceful flaps. Her wings were ruffled, no longer it was properly trimmed and brushed.

"I hope they just quit asking me for more! Do they really think I'm available every time? Give me a rest!"

She whined, she wept. Mystic Flour was quick to comfort her, Burning Spice loudly vocalising his ire. Shadow Milk had suggested a few things while slipping in some comforting compliments that they knew could lighten her up.

She was still upset, but she wasn't giving up. With their support, she went back to her territory, with their wishes of luck brought with her.

Then Mystic Flour brought in her troubled mind several days after.

"They should learn to choose their own choice. And went their did, they shouldn't expected me to take care of their action's consequences just because I was the one who gave them suggestion..."

Hers didn't end there.

What happened once, became twice. Then thrice, and so on.

More villages were burned, and more cookies were ignored in their path. No more songs and music without the echoing of shouts and screams. No more knowledge that lead them to genuineness.

He watched. He watched as his fellow comrades fell one by one.

The guilt ridden on Burning Spice had replaced with desire of destruction. Eternal Sugar rather chose, and was doing it, of her own slumber rather than strumming happy tune for her cookies. Mystic Flour became cold to the world, and she closed her eyes for every tears that had shredded around her. Shadow Milk had found fun in playing mind games, carefully crafted twisted plans that led others to deceit.

And he had stayed silent.

He watched as their fell into the pit, fallen down from their original duties and becoming something unimaginable. He had done many things to lift them back up, away from the pit, but their kept falling.

And falling.

The world had started to view them as monsters. As Beasts. No longer that they cheered their names with the words Heroes, but instead screeches of terror in their tone.

He watched, as they further became distant.

When their figures were nearly swallowed by the pit's darkness, under his helmet, he opened his mouth.

They halted.

Shadow Milk was the first to look back.

Perhaps there was desperation evidence in his stature. Or yearning. He wasn't sure, but all he knew that time was just the wish for them to stop moving. Stop going further and — just DON'T.

But they turned back. Mystic Flour was the last to turn her head around. They heard him, but they didn't listen.

Everything changed that day. The cookiekind no longer viewed them as their saviours. Cookies flinched and shuddered when their names were spoken. They cowered when they passed by. They prayed to never stumbled them again, and never ever.

He scoffed at how quickly those cookies turned away from them. Back then, they had been so desperate, so eager, so demanding. The ground Burning Spice stepped on, that they had been worshipped, had become the same ground they vehemently avoid crossing.

Where were those cookies who animatedly praised their saviours? Where were those who had been lost and been guided by his comrades?

Because of them, his comrades had been stirred from their original paths, and yet they chose to fled rather than facing it?

He stayed in silence, and everything began to unfold.

For he had chosen to stay in his own path (even if it felt bigger and barren) and be on his way. For he had chosen to stay silent.

But the others did not.

"Terrible, terrible!"

"Where did our leaders go?"

(He closed his eyes, and opened it again.

The pit was still there.)

"My home was destroyed..."

"That jester had caused us to fight each other!"

(Where was his friends? He can't see them.

He called again and again but never received a reply.

They can't hear him. He was too far away. And the pit was too deep.)

"He lied to us!"

"She thrown us into shambles so heartless..."

(He stood at the edge. Then he sat down. Then he stood back up again.)

"Look at how far they had fallen..."

"So terribly far..."

(Was all this worth it?)

"The heroes left us..."

"Can we still call them our heroes?"

(But,)

"At least, we still got someone..."

(The world may need them as heroes)

"Silent Salt Cookie is still here, right?"

(Yet all he ever wanted was his friends.)

"....right?"

Blade sheated out, and the sharpness became apparent under the moonlight.

He was silent. Not a sound ever coming from him unless he desired it.

(The pit was just a step away from him)

The other cookies should be as well.

(And fall in, he shall be)

(Fallen, they had been)

Strawberry jam dripped down from his sword. Crumbles every on the ground. The whistles of winds and swaying of leaves were what accompanied him that night.

Such quiet, such peace.

Perhaps this was what was best for him. Perhaps silence suits him best rather than solidarity. Perhaps this was what he truly purposed to do. Such loudness of betrayal and cowardice never belong to be in Earthbread.

Even when cookies begged him not too, he believed otherwise. Yes, it was the best choice. It was not perfect, but it was certainly better than before.

Even when the Witches witnessed their choice. Even when humongous forks were raised from the cotton cloud.

He closed his eyes, accepted his fate to be sealed away in a pit prison.

Yet silence had always been his choice.

(For he, too, had fallen.

But at least he saw his friends there.)

#i made my own silent salt headcannon #silent salt cookie #shadow milk cookie #burning spice cookie #eternal sugar cookie #mystic flour cookie #cookie run kingdom #headcanon

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clovenhoofedjester · 2 months

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jellicle lineups; part 3/4

LETS GO PEOPLE!! LETS GO !! sorry for taking so long to get around to this one !

demeter | 🔒 🍰 🌇

DEETER

ive seen a lot of complaints about demeters design being toned down over the years so i decided to bring some of the bolder design choices back for mine. mullet demeter is REAL now ! honestly i couldve done more w/ their makeup but shhh its ok....

i tried to push the gold in their design by making the eyeshadow really obvious and giving them gold lips. enjoy their lacy dress too... i tried to design something which they could dance comfortably in

demeters newer 3 words (nervous, sensual, secretive) mean everything to me. love them so much. i think theyd be 29 in human years

bombalurina | 🌹 🍓 🛼

so i totally based her hair on that concept art for drag queen bomba. the bob is too cute ! i had a blast doing her design for the most part. i struggled w that makeup and the color of her dress but its ok.

i also tried to give her something she could dance in—just like. imagine the length of the dress a little shorter. im not going back and fixing it

i based her color palette/patterns directly on her concept art because tbh, i dont love blond/ginger bomba ! so black/white/red hair bomba it is

i think she would be 27 in human years

hysperia | 🪴 ⌚ 🍡

this is my version of exotica, renamed hysperia, because i do not love her og name. its not fun. the name hysperia is taken from an ensemble kitten character from the og london production

i also based her design on a multitude of things, asides from her 2 costumes in 98—like some nbq/greycat designs since i feel like that design not becoming a common ensemble character was a waste. A WASTE I TELL YOU! ive also based her fur length on warsaw victoria because oh my godddd that design is so good. peak

her neck bow is a nod to the 2019 movie... the macavity girls w/ those bow collars. they were onto something there

she would have a much more prominent role than the few times she cameo'd in 98, still retaining the elegant/shy personality she shows in the film. shed be 29 in human years

cassandra | 🪐 ♠️ 🥯

i originally made her makeup a lot closer to her replica designs but decided to go for something a little different based on a makeup look i saw on pinterest LOL. so like. enjoy her slight earthy gothic vibes. i also didnt struggled too much on her outfit since i came into this knowing that i wanted her to be wearing something formfitting and bejeweled. a little circus-y too

more people have got to play up her disdainfulness. she'd be 26 in human years

alonzo | 🎹 🍢 🎳

once again, another design pretty similar to his standard replica one. i just tried to make the black patch on his face a little greyer and with some white detailing. because tbh every alonzo with white mascara makes me go crazy its so cute

i also tried to make his head fur/bangs a little distinctive—inspired by a random pic from a production i dont know the name of

enjoy his little cute fit too. pinklonzo. pastelonzo

that one gif of him pantomiming eating a playing card IS canon to me. he'd be 28 in human years

munkustrap | 📼 🥧🎙

verrrry similar to standard replica munks makeup-wise ! however, fur wise.... say hi to mulletstrap. to manestrap. 2 me he is tuggers brother so he gets that. i have no justification for the mullet other than idk, looks good, is funny, and the oslo 1985 production was right to give him one. also he and demeter can match now

i do like when theyre seen as something of a prince... so say hi to the gothenburg and opera populaire-esque epaulettes. theyre cayoot. they also get warsaw munks Big Pant Vibes

give this man a break. hed be 30 in human years

macavity | 🔥 🥂 🎯

he was actually one of the first cats i made design notes for when i started hyperfixating on this musical like.... two months ago. i really tried to mix elements from a bunch of different designs 4 him.... and sorry yall hes a deut brother too. im predictable

the manginess, mane, more ginger-y head fur, tugger-ness and the mouth markings from the 2016 revival... the big big hair, white fur and general makeup from his replica design... and the stylings of il sistina mac with the fitted coat. he also gets unique eyelashes like tugger—this time white instead of gold. he also gets that ominous magic cat eye shading

i think he would act a lot like 2019 mac... suave. but also not as dorky and desperate as he is in that movie LOL. he'd be 33 in human years

ONLY ONE MORE LEFT..... THE OLDIES........ MAYBE... I MIGHT MAKE DESIGNS FOR SOME OF THE SWINGS TOO LOL

#cats the musical #cats musical #sfw furry #character design #chibi #my art #demeter #bombalurina #hysperia #exotica #cassandra #alonzo #munkustrap #macavity

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letteredlettered · 4 months

Text

Since people expressed interest in the comments about the music I used to write my current fic, I wanted to share some of what I explored to write it. I don't think that you need to know this canon or have read this fic to read this post, though I do spend a bit of time talking about how canon influenced the choices I made. Anyone who has been following this fic knows that it was supposed to be porn, and largely, it really still is for the most part a fic about sex. But I did do a lot of research on music with which I'm frankly not very familiar, and the process was really rewarding.

The fic is Time Signature, if you're interested. This post has a lot about music, electronic music, Chinese music, and music theory, as well as some links to music that interests me and inspired portions of the fic. I don't expect anyone to read anything this long, but it was nice to write it.

Canon. One of my favorite things about both book and drama canon is how in synch WWX/LWJ are cultivation-wise. It’s not just that they can predict the talisman the other will use or the seal the other will cast; they also have the same hunches solving mysteries, the same instincts protecting others, the same ideas about where to go. When writing an AU, it’s important to me to show that synchronization (beyond physical attraction and sex), mostly because I think it’s hot.

In canon, however, WWX revolutionizes cultivation, inventing a whole new method when no one ever thought that possible. I also think this is hot. I also think it’s hot if LWJ thinks it’s hot. Look, canonically, LWJ disapproves of demonic cultivation because it will injure WWX’s spirit and body, but imo there is a reason LWJ is so into WWX, and it’s not just because WWX bugs him. It’s not even just because WWX is really cute and happy and exuberant and everything that’s the opposite of his upbringing. I also like to think that it’s because WWX is a fucking genius, and LWJ doesn't mind the idea of upending tradition and the entire cultivation world as much as it really seems at first that he would; he just struggles with anything that could hurt WWX. So anyway, WWX being revolutionary, in basically a technological sense, is important to me.

Wangxian both play music canonically. LWJ’s playing is noted to be particularly powerful, and WWX’s chosen music is at least one part of his revolutionary cultivation method. Additionally, the song LWJ writes for them is an important plot point. It makes sense that in a modern AU, music is a point of connection, so that is what I chose for their careers.

The final point about canon I want to make in connection to the music for this fic is that this is a Chinese canon with Chinese characters set in China. I don’t think it’s wrong to write AUs set in the west. I have done so, and I think there is value in examining a Chinese canon that has become very popular in the west through the lens of the Chinese diaspora. But I also think that there is a lot of value in a western person such as myself trying to learn and understand the cultural context for a canon that I really like, even if I sometimes get it wrong.

I had decided to set this fic in China because I thought the setting would not strongly feature, which would give me an easy “in” to write something set in a place I don’t know much about. Directly after choosing the setting I chose their careers, which made me realize I needed to do a lot more research—both about the careers but also about the setting--than a fic that was supposed to be mainly porn should have really required.

Music genre choice. Lots of AUs I’ve read have Wangxian’s mutual interest be that they both play western classical instruments. This baffles me, but it’s what I’ve seen, so I loosely started there—ie, I spent some time thinking about what would be revolutionary in western instrumental music, which entailed doing some research on contemporary classical music. There are obviously pioneers in any music genre, folks doing new things, but it turned out I just did not know enough about this genre to really understand what would be truly avant-garde.

I took a step back and thought about the instrumental music I have personally heard that feels really new and different, and Philip Glass was the first thing that came to mind. I first heard of Philip Glass when I saw The Hours, for which he wrote the soundtrack. I still think that soundtrack is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard, and I did use it as inspiration for music in this fic, particularly LWJ’s. More on that later.

Philip Glass is great, but for all his eastern minimalist influences, he is a strong figure in the western paradigm. I did some research on Chinese contemporary instrumental music, but most of what I found had a really western flavor. I think there are two reasons for this—one is that I am in the west searching for articles in English; for all that we like to imagine the internet is universal, search algorithms and search history is actually making it far harder than it used to be to find material with which you are completely unfamiliar. Secondly, western music did in fact have a notable impact on Chinese music, which is fine, it’s still Chinese, but I worried about everything I wrote just sounding like it was about western classical, which is a concern of mine I’ll address more later.

Since I wasn’t finding what I wanted, particularly for WWX, in the “art music” (aka, lowercase “c” classical music, which Wikipedia says is also known as “cultivated music, serious music, or canonical music”—ie, instrumental music with strings, winds, percussion) scene, I realized I needed to examine the other contemporary music, by which I mean everything else. Since I am most familiar with rock, Radiohead immediately came to mind, but Radiohead is a band, and there are lyrics. Though the lyrics are not where the meaning of Radiohead songs lie (the vocals are treated as largely instrumental), if there were lyrics, I’d need to write about them, and I didn’t want to. More importantly, Radiohead is singular in what they do, which makes them difficult to categorize, and this makes them difficult to describe textually. You can say that Radiohead revolutionized rock, or even reinvented it, but that is not really addressing how fundamentally avant-gardeRadiohead is. Describing how revolutionary Radiohead is on paper really is just saying “but they’re different!” over and over again.

What I needed for WWX was a music genre that was revolutionary, an entire school of music that felt cutting edge and frankly, unfamiliar, and for that, I realized I needed my brother.

Some stories about my family. My brother is a music artist who creates electronic music. If you want to understand why it took me this long to get to my brother in this thought process, you should understand a few things about him. First, I love him a lot, but we’re not very close. Second, my brother is probably the quietest person I know—like, idk, LWJ levels of non-talking. Last, I do not understand my brother’s music. I’ve tried! I listened to it a lot! But when I didn’t understand, I asked questions, and my brother cannot explain any of it. He’s an expressive guy! Just not verbally, and as a very verbal person, I have a tough time when people cannot use their words. Like, even asking him what type of music he plays, he’ll say something like, “It’s complicated.” (This is a lie. He’ll look at me and say, “Type?” And I’ll try to explain what I mean. And he’ll say, “I don’t know.” And if I said, “Okay, but if you had to label it?” He’d laugh and say, “Why?” And if I said, “So I can better understand your music,” he’d think for a long time, then look very frustrated, and laugh, and say, “I don’t know?” I think we’ve literally had this exact conversation).

Anyway, possibly through one of these type of exchanges, where I’m grilling him like a school marm and he’s acting like I’m making him take a standardized test he hates (I’m his little sister. Would it be easier to subject him to these horrors if he was my little brother?), I learned that one of my brother’s influences is Aphex Twin. My brother loves Aphex Twin. I . . . don’t. I’ve listened to a lot of him (in order to understand my brother better); I do not like it, and I do not understand it. My brother talks about Aphex Twin like he’s a genius (if and when my brother talks at all). Now, my brother is a very smart guy; it’s not that I didn’t believe him when he said Aphex Twin was a genius, but he also gets . . . swept up by things, and as previously discussed, he doesn’t talk a lot, so I didn’t really understand what my brother meant by this. It took hearing about Aphex Twin randomly, in a couple other places, for me to realize Aphex Twin is a Big Deal. When I looked up Aphex Twin at some point in order to better understand the music my brother makes, I found that Aphex Twin is considered by many to be a genius and also a pioneer. Apologies to all of you who already knew that about Aphex Twin.

Sidenote, my brother’s wife is also a musician, though not professionally. She could have been, considering that she was ranked as one of the top flute players in Texas, and Texas is fucking huge. But no, professionally, my sister-in-law is in cognitive science and linguistics, which you may remember was the career LWJ had in Say More (my fiancée is also a linguist. I also know a few other linguists. My life is convenient for my Wangxian AUs, I gotta say). I mention my sister-in-law because my sister-in-law has enough musical acuity to also recognize that both my brother and Aphex Twin are geniuses, which really helped me to understand that even though I’m not really into this music at all, it really is a Big Deal.

So, I researched Aphex Twin and also went to my brother’s website for his music to find out what the hell this type of music is called, and it turns out there’s not a good name. IDM, which stands for intelligent dance music, is a label Aphex Twin himself famously does not like, and my brother labeled his own music as “acid, techno, house, electro.” Wikipedia said that Aphex Twin is known for techno, ambient, and jungle.

Anyway, into this confusing morass of electronic revolutionary music is where I decided to plunk Wei Ying.

Electronic music. Note for this section that I know nothing about electronic music. I’m writing this post partly to document the journey of discovery I went on to write this porn. I’m not really trying to educate anyone so much as I’m trying to provide insight as to what I researched for this fic and what the references are, in case the fic interested you.

When you really get down to it, music made with electronics has as many genres and styes as music made with more traditional instruments, and the labels are just as confusing (see this Wikipedia list of electronic music genres). For instance, “electronica” just means music made with electronics to some people, but to others it’s more specific. You’ve also got a bunch of other terms: ambient, EDM, techno, house, IDM.

This is all based on what I learned from Wikipedia, but here are some loose definitions as I understand them: There’s ambient, which is really made for background listening, and then there’s EDM (electronic dance music), which is made for active listening—ie, dancing. Within EDM you have lots of genres, such as techno; techno is usually characterized by a specific tempo and repeating structure, and house, which . . . is also characterized by a specific tempo and repeating structure, but the tempo is different. From what I can gather, house is also a bigger tent than techno; ie, many different genres and styles can be house, but techno is more often just techno. (Note that part of the reason all of this terminology has so much overlap is that it originated in different places; techno was invented in Berlin, house in Chicago.) Meanwhile, the list of genres of house is so big that it also has its own Wikipedia page, which is almost as large as the list of electronic music genres.

Note that there is such a thing as “house ambient”, which explodes the entire concept of ambient vs EDM. To aid in that explosion, IDM is described on Wikipedia as including styles such as ambient techo, and “is regarded as better suited to home listening rather than dancing.” What stands out about IDM, and the reason it is featured in the fic, is that it’s known for being experimental. (I’ll add that it emerged in the 90s, which isn’t great for my fic. Whatever WWX is doing, he is on the edge, and 90s music already old to him, even if he’s Aphex Twin’s biggest fan! But alas, my research could not tell me what is happening right now, because you really have to be involved in The Scene to understand what’s new. By the time it’s documented, it’s already really a little old.)

If you are researching electronic music and how it is revolutionary, you’re probably going to get into its evolution and history, since this is a new style of music. And if you are looking into the origins of this kind of music, you’re going to find Brian Eno. And if you’re looking into Brian Eno, you’re going to find minimalism.

Minimalism. Brian Eno is an extremely famous dude. I’d probably heard of him before, but I am very good with big concepts and pretty bad with details, so because I didn’t know anything about the bigger concepts behind ambient/electronic music/minimalism, I never paid attention. Now I’m hearing about him literally everywhere, which is funny, since it’s not like he’s new news. Ezra Klein was literally waxing poetic about Music for Airports just a month ago.

Eno is famous for his pioneering work in ambient music and electronic music, and, as one might expect, electronic ambient. Eno was always doing experimental, avant-garde stuff, and early on he embraced a minimal style. He later coined the term “ambient music.”

What’s interesting about this is that around the same time as Eno was doing this in later 1960s/early 1970s, a new kind of art music was being born in classical circles. This is the capital “M” Minimal music, for which—you guessed it—Philip Glass is really famous. And when you look at Philip Glass’s influences, he was deeply influenced by the minimalism of eastern music, especially Indian and Tibetan music. I couldn’t really find anything saying that Brian Eno was directly influenced by traditional eastern music, but Eno is definitely a fan of Glass and vice versa; they really build on each other.

This ended up just being a very cool intersection for the fic that I didn’t plan. I didn’t end up using it very much, but I must say I was stupidly pleased that the kind of music I was looking into for both of these characters has such deep roots in eastern music traditions. So now let’s talk a little bit about eastern music, specifically Chinese music, since that’s where this fic is based.

Chinese music. I did read a bit about Chinese music for this fic, and I have to say that I still don’t know a lot about it. As stated above, I’m in the west, using my western search techniques, looking for primarily articles in English (though I get Google to translate some things). I also just have a western understanding of music and music history, and it turns out, surprise, different cultures are different, and my entire paradigm for understanding music does not really apply to music from other cultures.

I, and many of us, want music to be a universal language, something that can move through all barriers and touch us in our souls. And it is! I have listened to and loved music not from my culture! But thinking of music as something intrinsically universal and therefore immediately moving to everyone really collapses the rich history of musical tradition all cultures have. Music really is like a language, in that it is built on the culture that creates it; it has its own internal logic; it has style and meaning that depend on the history of that tradition and the understanding of its audience. The brief reading I’m going to do to write some porn will not give me to understand the deep and rich tradition of Chinese music, but also, frankly, even if I turned all my efforts and career to learning and understanding this right now, I still would not have the best comprehension. I don’t even comprehend western music, and I grew up with it. So, forgive me for the paucity of my understanding and knowledge, and please correct me if I make mistakes.

When I think about Chinese music that I know about, I think of two things: modern and traditional. The modern stuff I’m thinking of is stuff like C-pop, but also the things you might hear on the soundtrack for a drama or movie. To me, none of this music sounds that different than western pop or western soundtracks. There are a few reasons for this: one, there are tons of Chinese music that is not reaching me. Two, maybe I just think it doesn’t sound that different because I can only really process what I recognize. Three, in a similar vein, maybe I’m thinking “that sounds like what I know” when really what I know sounds like what I’m hearing. Globalization is definitely doing things to music; if you’re telling me that Asian pop is not influencing western pop right now, I’m going to think you’re crazy, considering the influence and popularity Asian pop has in the US and Europe right now. And four, western music did have an impact on Chinese music, so there’s that.

Obviously, the music genre I chose for Wei Ying falls into the modern sphere, and I certainly looked into the techno/EDM/IDM/electronic/ambient/house scene in China. Articles I found stated it took a little longer for EDM to pick up steam in China, but now it’s definitely going strong. There are some great electronic music festivals, EDM clubs, underground EDM scenes, and EDM music artists (composers and DJs!) in China. Researching these artists was pretty difficult, especially because I wanted Wangxian’s musical discussions to be highly technical, and for highly technical discussions about EDM you are wandering into some very niche spaces. I’m sure such spaces about EDM in China exist, but they’re most likely to be in Chinese.

As I’ve said, globalization is a factor when it comes to cultural difference in music, and I’d add here that because this genre of music is so new, globalization has even more influence, from what I can tell. That said, I do not want to diminish how much influence very specific locations have to do with this type of music. EDM is very tied to clubs (because of the dancing) and performance (because of deejaying, and also because of things like live coding/algorave), which is probably why we get so many granular genres of house—Chicago house is different from Detroit, just for example. Regardless, I stuck with researching a lot of western artists for both the music and musical discussions in the fic, mostly because the music is supposed to be so new and avant-garde that is should not be something overly familiar to the reader, even if they’re steeped in electronic music genres.

Then there’s traditional music.

Traditional music. Traditional music obviously had a huge influence on Chinese modern music. The influence of traditional eastern music on modern eastern music, as well as traditional eastern music itself, is what really influenced a lot of western minimalism of the 1960s and 70s (and onward). To be clear, not all “eastern” traditional music is the same. It’s just as richly diverse regionally as traditional western music, if not more so, given “the east” is fucking huge—though I will say that a lot of people think of western music as pretty monolithic, because folk is characterized as a separate tradition than classical. When you consider ancient western folk, there’s a shit ton of it, and it’s quite diverse. There is also folk music in eastern music traditions, and this is different than music that would have been played in courts and palaces, so there’s really a ton going on.

Traditional music is what people think of when they think of eastern music being “weird,” which is something I really hate. Look, I love being weird; I think weird is cool; it’s great. But weird means unusual, and traditional music is very usual; people who say that just mean it’s unusual for them, and they should think about their words. What they’re trying to say is that traditional eastern music will sound very different for many western listeners, even though, again, we like to think of music as so universal, actually!, because it’s based on math, actually!, and math is so universal!!! The truth is that math is patterns, and patterns are things that your brain recognizes when there are familiar elements, and when there are unfamiliar elements your brain has trouble recognizing the pattern. So, again, music is a way to communicate across all kinds of boundaries, but it is not a universal translator. (But it does make you wonder . . . if Lan Zhan played Inquiry, could Aeneas answer???)

Regarding the unfamiliar math, what we’re talking about is scales. I think most people know this part. Eastern scales are based on math, just like western scales, but the frequencies are divided up differently. Among other things, traditional Chinese music did not use equal temperament, which means depending on what note you start with, the intervals for all the notes on the scale were be different. A way of thinking about this, at least as I understand it, is that a piano is even tempered. All the notes are always the same whether you’re playing in C major or B flat, because you have no control over the frequency produced when you press the key. But if you’re using just intonation—say you’re using an instrument with just a few strings—you’re adjusting the frequency of the note to match your scale. It requires extremely precise hearing and playing ability.

Notation for traditional Chinese music was really different than how I as a westerner understand it. For one thing, it didn’t include rhythm, and for another, it represented more a framework for improvisation than every single precise note. (See Gongche notation, Wikipedia.)

Authorship was also thought of pretty differently. When I googled “great Chinese composers,” the only results I was getting were twentieth century. There are some great ancient Chinese composers, but I had to do a lot of digging to find them, and trying to find someone like the Chinese equivalent of Beethoven is just the wrong approach. When you get right down to it, this really seems to be about the fundamental difference between western individualism vs eastern collectivism and community-based thinking. The individual artist is not the hero of the story. That said, the tradition of the music is very heroic. For instance, the notation allows such variation that the same piece can really build and grow through different artists, much like a story through oral tradition. Additionally, for an artist in an ensemble piece to stand out would really be quite rude; the point is not the individual talent of the musicians but the fundamental beauty of the piece. (This was a particularly hard thing to research, and I mostly found out what I laid out above from various folks answering questions in forums. The best one I found is here.)

Another thing is that harmony, as we think of it, was just not really a thing in traditional Chinese music. The focus was on a melody, which is where minimalism comes in. I’d add here that the “as we think of it” is pretty important, because the western paradigm, including western music language, is not super great at really capturing the nuance of Chinese music. I am terrible at tracking my sources when I research stuff for fic, so I was trying to find some of them now, and I came across this article, which examines the harmony that did exist, but how different it is from what we think of when we think of western harmony.

Despite the reading I did on this subject, very little about Chinese traditional music made it into the fic. I do have Lan Zhan reading a book on traditional music that he hates. This isn’t based on a book I found, but rather to show that Lan Zhan isn’t really into the idea of musical “purity,” that is, ideas of what you should and shouldn’t do with music. That said, I’m not really aware of what strictures around traditional Chinese music are like, or what the Chinese thought is on that. I am aware of how deeply restrictive western thought is regarding music theory, and that’s really where that part of the fic was coming from.

I’d originally had Lan Zhan reading a book on western music theory and very deeply hating it, but I also felt like having him read a book on western theory could reinforce the idea that he’s working within a western paradigm, when really the whole point is that this Lan Zhan very intentionally uses traditional music values. Due to his inspiration from Wei Ying, he’s breaking the norms of how that music works, but he's not necessarily making it western; he’s making it avant-garde. Basically, my inspiration was a Chinese Philip Glass, but I didn’t want to say that because as mentioned above, Glass is still western, no matter his influences. That said, Wei Ying does compare Lan Zhan to Philip Glass and also Tan Dun, who you might recognize as the guy who did the soundtrack for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, among many other very famous projects.

Tan Dun has in fact been called the Chinese Philip Glass, which is probably not very respectful to Tan Dun, who is himself an incredible (and experimental!) composer. I should note, however, that Tan Dun is Chinese American—he was born in China, but got a degree at Columbia and has lived in New York since. Also, he is particularly famous for marrying Eastern traditionalism with western style, and that really wasn’t what I wanted for Lan Zhan. I didn’t want Lan Zhan to be incredible because he was using western traditions, though he is familiar with them and can make very talented use of them. A lot of very famous Chinese modern composer are famous for that, and that music is still very Chinese. That said, I felt that if I made that Lan Zhan’s style, it would feel like I was saying Lan Zhan’s music is special because it’s western, and that was something I really wasn’t keen on.

In the end, I possibly did the fic and traditional Chinese music a disservice by having Lan Zhan read his book and hate on it. One of the whole reasons western music theory sucks is it can be pretty racist, and that’s what I was trying to avoid, but by conflating my rage at western music theory with eastern, I didn’t really help things much. But anyway, since I’ve now mentioned it, let’s just take a slight detour to talk about what I mean by racist music theory.

Western music theory racism. There’s a scene in the movie Tár that really solidified my feelings on the subject. In it, a student who identifies as BIPOC and pangender, says they don’t really have much use for Bach because of Bach’s misogynist history. The extremely famous director, Tár, played by Cate Blanchett, lambasts the student for “cancelling” Bach because of Bach’s personal life. The student goes on to say that they really just don’t have much interest in cis male white composers, and Tár continues to lambast the student for considering things like gender and race in conjunction with the art.

My understanding of this scene was that it was demonstrating that Tár is a jerk, so full of herself that she can’t listen to other voices, and so steeped in her 18th century western ideas of genius that she’s literally silencing the music voices she’s supposed to support. That was not most people’s reading of the scene, and in retrospect, possibly not the intention of the film. It seems rather telling that not a lot is known about Bach’s misogyny or lack thereof; there are plenty of other “great” western composers that are known to be worse in terms of misogyny and abuse, and yet the film did not make this scene about them. In retrospect, maybe that scene wanted to paint this student as kind of ignorant for cancelling Bach, and Tár really puts them in their place when she describes how art is more important than the artist.

Fuck that. I certainly believe that art is more important than the artist. JK Rowling sucks; that doesn’t mean I will stop loving HP fic and the part it’s played in my life. But the ugliness of the scene is that it hinges on importance of Bach, and look here, shocker, Bach is not essential, just as JKR is not essential if you decide you don’t ever want to familiarize yourself with the literature of TERFs. Even if you want to be a musician and create or conduct music, Bach is just not essential.

He’s pretty important if you want to be a western music historian, true, but when we talk about music there are many, many music traditions that are incredibly worthwhile and important that not only weren’t created by cis white men, but also weren’t ever derived or influenced by cis white men. If you think that you need Bach to know and love and create and perform and conduct music, it’s because you’re operating in a single paradigm that has become yes, universally known, but also for that reason oppressive and imperialist. I am not saying western classical music is bad because it’s imperialist, just to be clear. Bach’s great! Hate ‘im, but I do love me some Beethoven and he was also very cis and male and white and also a complete douche! What I’m saying is that forcing this music tradition on others is deeply imperialist, and it happens all the time.

Anyway, this is really a tangent, because despite my very good intentions to write about Chinese music, as I have stated, almost everything I used for reference was western, even a lot of the stuff I listened to. Maybe I just wanted to acknowledge that that’s a little racist, even though I tried not to be. Maybe I also wanted to hate on Tár and leave you with this interesting video about white supremacy in music theory.

References. Finally, we’ve reached the part I had originally intended to post, which is why I started writing this. Below are the essays and articles I used to write this fic. They were used in three ways: 1) to describe the music (though I also listened to things, see next section), 2) to inform Lan Zhan’s critiques and Wei Ying’s ideas—though I read a lot of essays to do that, just a crazy amount considering how little of the fic is actually about that, and 3) to describe the reading material Wei Ying and Lan Zhan exchange.

Music Beyond Airports – Appraising Ambient Music

This is a series of essays largely focused around Brian Eno’s Music for Airports, though there’s a lot of other stuff as well. I didn’t read everything in here, but the collection is absolutely fascinating. “Ambient House: “Little Fluffy Clouds” And The Sampler As Time Machine” is one of the “articles” Wei Ying sends Lan Zhan; meanwhile, the collection as whole is what Lan Zhan sends Wei Ying when he says he’s been reading about ambient house. Additionally, “Adaptive Game Scoring With Ambient Music” really influenced Lan Zhan’s commentary about arpeggiation, the first time he comments on Wei Ying’s music.

Counterpoint - Tracking in the Music of Aphex Twin

I have some embarrassment about this, given that the article is about counterpoint, and as I have discussed above, eastern traditional music doesn’t really employ that in the way westerners think about it. However, it’s also pretty backwards to restrict Wei Ying to traditional eastern music, as modern Chinese music includes plenty of counterpoint, and part of the point of the fic is that Wei Ying is doing entirely new things that haven’t been done before. Well. They’ve been done by Aphex Twin, as described in this piece, which also describes the first piece that Wei Ying plays for Lan Zhan in the fic, in the car. I did lift the phrase “pedagogy of counterpoint,” and could not decide whether it was long enough or significant enough to credit in the fic.

Unequal Temperament: A Review of Aphex Twin’s SYRO

I can’t remember what I used this article for. It’s an interesting read.

Reverb Machine (the entire website)

This is the site I kept returning to over and over and over again. Most of the articles about electronic really focus on either the equipment used or chords. In the fic, Lan Zhan isn’t supposed to know much about equipment or how any of it is used, because he does not do electronic music. Also, I didn’t really want to talk much about chord progressions, because those discussions are steeped in western music theory, and I wanted it to be possible for Wei Ying to be using the kind of scales traditional Chinese music used, even if a lot of modern Chinese music does use an even-tempered 12-tone scale. However, this site has a lot, and I ended up returning to it again and again so Wei Ying could say an offhand thing about reverb, and to describe certain things.

Notably, Wei Ying’s track, sex.mp3 is loosely based around Trent Reznor’s and Atticus Ross’s soundtrack to The Social Network. I haven’t even talked about Trent Reznor, but he was also someone I considered deeply when I started thinking about making Wei Ying do electronic music. In case you don’t know, Reznor was the artist behind Nine Inch Nails, but in later years he moved on to more experimental things, including movie soundtracks. Side note, movie soundtracks and video games is where a lot of these experimental artists doing either minimalism, ambient, or electronica, or a combination of all three end up, and I ended up reading a lot about video game music.

But anyway, when I saw the Social Network, I came out of it 1) admiring Aaron Sorkin and wishing I didn’t admire Aaron Sorkin because he’s kind of a douche, 2) shipping Mark and Eduardo way too much for my comfort, 3) going HOLY SHIT THAT SOUNDTRACK. Turns out I was not alone in finding that soundtrack totally different and new compared to anything I have ever heard, because as it turns out, it really was—wait for it—revolutionary. I understand that I have now said that about Glass, Eno, Radiohead, and Aphex Twin, but hey, people are doing things in music. Like I get that pop and hiphop artists are revolutionizing their genres all the time, but also it is possible for music as we know it to be redefined, and it’s not just the weird shit you hear that sounds like noise (there is a place for the weird shit that sounds like noise, and Brian Eno is closer to it than any of the above mentioned; I am not dissing weird shit that sounds like noise, because it is part of how we get where we are going).

Anyway, I used this website’s essay about The Social Network’s piece, “In Motion” to describe some of the music and inform some commentary on it.

“East Meets West: A Musical Analysis of Chinese Sights and Sounds, by Yuankai BaoSounds, by Yuankai Bao” by Jiazi Shi

This was the only essay I found that really had the extremely niche technical jargon that I really wanted for the fic that was also about Chinese music. You’ll note that it’s about a Chinese composer who is, again, famous for marrying eastern and western tradition, but this was what I could find in English, and I searched a lot. You’ll note that Lan Zhan’s very specific comment about the key change is something very directly inspired by this grad school dissertation. You’ll also note that this is where I found “Flowing Stream,” including a description of the song and the lyrics.

Music. A lot of fics like this one will link you to a specific piece that the character is playing. I could not do that, because the music in my fic is very intentionally made up. As I have been saying, the whole point is that Wei Ying is pushing the boundaries, inventing music that does not exist. So is Lan Zhan, by the end. I listened to music to inspire the descriptions, but it is not what they are playing, and almost none of it is Chinese. I’d be very interested in finding some Chinese music that is working on some of the principles of minimalism and electronic that these pieces employ.

Aphex Twin – Stone In Focus

Now you’ve come to the climax—this is really the story of how I learned to love Aphex Twin. This piece makes me cry. It’s what I used to describe the piece that has the remix of Lan Zhan’s guqin piece from 12 years ago. Obviously, the guqin piece mentioned in the fic is the canonical piece, Wangxian, but I find Wangian in the drama cheesier than I want it to be, and this Aphex Twin piece doesn’t have the Wangxian part. It’s just the sad longing part before Wangxian enters, but you’ll also notice that there are no flutes! Again, this is not the piece Wei Ying wrote; it’s just what I used for the description.

I didn’t link to the YouTube video I was watching, because the video was a collection and this didn’t come on until after minute thirteen. But that video just has this very sad tunnel that looks like maybe it’s for a train, and the rain is falling, and that makes me cry as well: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHl4NVytGpo&t=1074s

Book featuring Ndidi O - Hold On, I'm Coming

Wait, you’re saying, this is not electronic/house/ambient at all; this is just a trick to get me to watch one of your favorite wangxian vids! You’re right! But frankly, I was not focused on the genre when describing the music; I was focused on getting the feel of it that I wanted. The opening sequence to this was what I used to describe the track they make love to. (Lan Zhan starts making out with him and kind of slowly humping him to the track with the wangxian remix, but then Lan Zhan demands he plays something else, and this is what I listened to to get the feel for it.)

This pieces is a cover, and frankly, I can’t find out much about it. But just thinking about it turns me on and makes me cry and makes me feel so much, I can’t do it too often.

Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross – “In Motion,” from soundtrack to The Social Network

As noted above, this piece inspired sex.mp3, but I will say that the article I linked above about this piece, as well as the memory of the soundtrack itself, inspired descriptions more than listening to the piece itself. In the fic, sex.mp3 is initially described as “violent.” This was because I didn’t know if the track would play a big part in the fic, and then when it did, I really had to change to both to fit the meaning and the flavor I wanted; it became “anxiety inducing,” and that’s when it became “In Motion.” “In Motion,” however, is kind of too bright and peppy to really be sex.mp3, though I will say I was trying to listen to it just to write this section of the post, and I had to turn it off. It makes me SO anxious.

Philip Glass – soundtrack to The Hours

I’m linking the whole soundtrack, because in the fic Lan Zhan writes several related pieces, which is what this soundtrack is. I can’t even recommend one piece on this soundtrack, because it’s the thing as a whole that really makes you cry, and I can’t say I listened to a specific part of it to describe Lan Zhan’s music, because I know it so well that I only have to listen to a small piece to get all of it.

Flowing Water, played by Chen Leiji

The part this played in the fic is obvious. I listened to at least five versions of Flowing Stream/Flowing Water, and this is the one that I like the best. However, like all the renditions I listened to, the piece eventually becomes pretty complex and different than I wanted for Lan Zhan. In fact, what the narration describes as “showing off technique” is what I found in all recordings of this piece. I guess if you’re going to play “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” on YouTube you’re going to do something impressive with it, but I will say this piece is still very close to what I wanted.

I will also say that when I searched for this piece, as well as several other traditional songs, the search results had a lost of stuff that said you can listen to these pieces for tranquility and calm and meditation. I suggest listening to this one as extremely passionate and longing, and you’re going to get a lot more from it. If you resign it to the background, yeah, it’s kind of nice. If you let each note really speak to you, you’re going to really ache in a beautiful way.

Brian Eno – Ambient 1, Music for Airports

After hearing so much about Eno and Music for Airports, I was a little afraid I wouldn’t like it. After all, this isn’t really my genre, and witness how long it took me to find something I liked by Aphex Twin. However, I really needed some inspiration for the piece Wei Ying composes after Lan Zhan breaks them up, so I started listening to it.

The opening to this album is not the heartbreaking thing that the fic describes. It in fact does break my heart, but that is because there is something so sweet about it, lonely and sweet, but also perfectly fine being by itself. This piece is like a child alone in a room, figuring out blocks. This piece is like a cat on a piano, content with its nonsense noise. This piece is what it’s like to be alone and to be fine with that, to love from afar and be fine with that. It still brings me to tears, listening to it.

Radiohead – Everything in its Right Place

Apparently I did not succeed in writing all the music without Radiohead. I will say it happened because I happened to be watching a TV show that just happened to use this song right when I needed something powerful. I was already thinking about them, because my BFF was listening to a podcast about In Rainbows, which explains the children shouting “Yay!” in 15 Step. I really wanted something other than rain to get sampled in Wei Ying’s music, and my brother has specifically used his children talking or his babies crying as samples. Once Lan Zhan knows about A-Yuan, I wanted to use that idea, so I listened to 15 Step again, which is far too peppy for what I needed. But then Everything In Its Right Place came on, and it’s actually way too melancholy for what I needed, but that doesn’t really matter; I just needed to get a few notes described, so this is what I used for inspiration for what Wei Ying plays Lan Zhan after he admits to being in love with him. I will just say that re-listening to this song really does remind me of just how much Kid A means to me, but also how much it means to, like, music. There was really nothing like it at the time.

I will end this post by saying that I am not, in fact, a "music" person. So many people need and rely on music to get them through tough times. I mostly don't care about it. I don't have a Spotify account, and I can't imagine taking the time to really curate playlists.

But one thing I can say about me and my tastes is that I'm interested in learning. I want to try new things and hear things that I haven't heard before. To be a little self-aggrandizing, I think that that's a good thing. I think it makes me a better person to work on listening to things that I'm a little unfamiliar with and learn what's great about them. I think I got to do that quite a bit writing this, even though in the end I used a lot of pieces I was familiar with to do the actual writing. I hope that maybe someone reads this and decides to listen to something new, just like I did.

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