#it's still not in its 'final form'... this one really needs a full rock band | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

morningrainmusic · 1 year ago

Text

Peak Indie Rock: 2007

Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer by of Montreal January 7, 2007 / Polyvinyl Around 2005, of Montreal founder Kevin Barnes (who now uses the pronouns they/them) had just become a parent and was worried about supporting their family as a musician. Fortunately of Montreal was starting to take off. The Sunlandic Twins, the band’s seventh album, was doing well and Barnes was being asked to play larger shows. Touring, however, meant being away from home for long stretches, which took a toll on Barnes’ relationship with their wife and ultimately led to a split. She went back to her home country of Norway while Barnes stayed in Athens, Georgia where he recorded much of Hissing Fauna and began to mentally unravel. The record is a document of all-consuming anxiety and depression set to Prince, Abba, and Bee Gees-inspired psychedelic pop. It’s hard to think of an album with a wider chasm between the mood of the music (upbeat, happy) and the lyrics (dark, desperate). On “Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse” Barnes pleads to the chemicals in their brain, as well as those in his antidepressants to bring about a positive shift in their state of mind. It’s one of the most infectiously hooky songs on the album, and it begins with the line “I’m in a crisis, I need help.” “A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger” goes full disco, featuring jubilant strings and lyrics about spending a winter in Norway on the verge a mental breakdown. It’s an absolutely bonkers album with a handful of genuinely funny lines, often juxtaposed next to lyrics about crippling despair. At the midway point, "The Past Is a Grotesque Animal,” Barnes transforms into George Fruit, an alter-ego they created for the record, a glamorous black trans-person helped them escape their bleak mental state. It’s the most intense song on the album, a twelve minute-long krautrock barnburner with the same four repeating chords and a bevy of digital “oohs.” This is a mental breakdown in musical form, with Barnes directly addressing his wife and the very messy dissolution of their relationship, Virgina Woolf references and all. It is an entrancing outpouring of emotional turmoil. The second half of Hissing Fauna has some terrific moments, but as a whole it’s not as strong as the first. A few years ago Barnes expressed regret over the problematic Georgie Fruit character, thought I’m not sure anyone was calling for an apology. Of Montreal is still going strong (they released album number eighteen in 2022) and Kevin Barnes is seemingly in a much better place mentally. They will likely never put out another record quite like Hissing Fauna, and maybe that’s a good thing. Further listening: Life of the Record podcast Sound of Silver by LCD Soundsystem March 12, 2007 / DFA

2007 was a landmark year with dozens of events, big and small, that still echo through history today. Apple’s first iPhone. Bush deployed over 20,000 more soldier in Iraq. It’s also the year he signed the “Protect America Act,” legalizing domestic wiretapping and email surveillance. The Virginia Tech massacre rocked the nation. Netflix launched its streaming service. Nancy Pelosi became the House of Representatives’ first female speaker. Tumblr was born (you’re on it now!). It was an incredible movie year. "Crank That (Soulja Boy)” became a viral and radio hit. Bob Barker hosted his final episode of The Price is Right. The Big Bang Theory premiered—and Sheldons of varying ages still haunt our nation seventeen years later. Our world was changing, as it always is, but looking back the changes in 2007 may have been coming more rapidly than usual. Some of these news stories may seem quaint by 2024 standards, but at the time there was a palpable feeling of uneasiness…of darkness. Enter Sound of Silver, the sophomore album from Brooklyn’s LCD Soundsystem.This album didn’t really engage with current events or have much of anything to say about the winds of change. But it gets people dancing, and it can’t be overstated how much that’s needed during times of crisis. Coincidentally, most of James Murphy’s songs are about crises of varying flavors whether that be getting away from his greedy a-hole manager or dealing with loss of a confidant or fearing getting older. The closing track, “New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down,” is a clear-eyed and fatigued examination of his home city, all its romance and disappointing banality. Crucially, as loaded with ideas and astute observations as Sound of Silver is, it’s still first and foremost a dance record; something you can put on and groove to without reflecting on such weighty topics. But if you want to, it’s great for that too. The title track stands out as the most relevant to this exercise in exploring music from my teenage years. Does Sound of Silver make me feel (or want to feel) like a teenager? Not really because I wasn’t yet listening to LCD Soundsystem in high school. If I could go back though, which to be clear, I wouldn’t particularly want to, I would definitely pick up a copy of Sound of Silver.

Because of the Times by Kings of Leon April 2, 2007 / RCA

Kings of Leon were often referred to as the southern Strokes, but what they really were in 2007 were Britain’s not-so-secret darlings. The appreciation did not go unacknowledged by the band. “Fans” serves as an homage to Kings’ vocal UK fanbase, with Caleb Followill singing in his distinctive drawl “those rainy days they ain't so bad when you're the King / the King they want to see.” The states caught up the following year when KoL released their commercial peak Only by the Night, but Because of the Times remains the band’s best.

Boxer by The National May 22, 2007 / Beggars Banquet

Greatest album of all time.

For Emma, Forever Ago by Bon Iver July 8, 2007 / Self-released/Jagjaguwar

If you’re a fan of Bon Iver, you know the For Emma backstory. Over the years it has become the closest thing we have to modern musical lore. Here’s how it goes: twenty five year old musician Justin Vernon was living in Raleigh, North Carolina depressed by the circumstances of his life. He found himself compromising musically, considered his work mediocre, and got kicked out of his band. He contracted pneumonia and mononucleosis, broke up with his girlfriend, and packed up his recording equipment in his car to return to his hometown of Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Once there, he retreated to his father’s hunting cabin where he planned to lay low for a few weeks. He ended up staying for three months in the unforgiving midwestern winter, completely alone, aside from his dad stopping by every ten days or so to drop off beer, eggs, and cheese. Eventually, he started writing and recording the songs that became For Emma Forever Ago. If you read interviews with Vernon from the For Emma days, you get a good grasp on how miserable this time in his life was. The whole backstory has been romanticized to hell, and of course it has, because the music is brilliant and the narrative is compelling. "It's sort of odd to look back and see it as magical,” Vernon said, “because it felt like a lonely few months at the cabin, where I plugged in the laptop and fucked around.” This fucking around on a laptop was Vernon’s only saving grace—throwing himself into a creative outlet, working 14 hour days which at times made him feel “a little insane.” Ultimately though, it was an enriching outlet that helped drag him out of his depression. Perhaps that’s why the music itself is not downtrodden and depressing. This is not uplifting fare, necessarily, but none of it is sad either. The title track, with its lovely strum pattern and horns (added later by friends after a few glasses of whiskey) is downright joyful. Even “Re: Stacks” which closes out the album and addresses Vernon’s online poker addiction has an optimistic tone. It is a perfect ending to a damn-near perfect record.

Good Bad Not Evil by Black Lips September 11, 2007 / Vice The Clash were referred to as “the only band that matters” and the Black Lips may be the only punk band that matters today. Not because they’re making grand political statements or reinventing the wheel. Make no mistake, they are doing neither. They matter because they are one of the few great punk acts making great music that doesn’t take itself too seriously. In fact, none of the songs on Good Bad Not Evil (title copped from a Shangri-Las song) take themselves seriously at all. This is a band that circa 2007 was known for various onstage antics including, but not limited to “vomiting, urination, nudity, RC car races, fireworks, a chicken, flaming guitars,” etc (that’s straight from their Wikipedia page). That may sound undignified or crass, but so is plenty of rock and roll. And the tunes follow suit. If “How Do You Tell A Child Someone Has Died” doesn’t make you chuckle, you probably have a lousy sense of humor. If an ode to juvenile hijinks like “Bad Kids” doesn’t stir some feelings of misplaced youthful rebellion, you may not have a soul. This is fun, sophomoric garage punk at its very best. Oracular Spectacular by MGMT October 2, 2007 / Columbia

Has Oracular Spectacular aged well? I’m probably not the best person to answer that question with any kind of objectivity, as this album ranks highly among the most formative of my youth. I still love it. It’s an essential work of synth-pop/psych rock that will eternally be an undeniable classic. Though when I think about it in 2024, I can’t help but feel distracted from the music itself and more focused on how it’s perceived today by the larger culture. I fear a future in which some bullshit term like “Urban Outfitters-core” is used to describe a past era of indie music as dated and cringe, with the album art for Oracular Spectacular becoming a visual shorthand equivalent of “Ok boomer” but for millennials. Even this aesthetic label, nowadays often applied to 2000s music, largely positively, bothers me. So much so, in fact, that I refuse to type it here. I could be fearful of this for other great albums from the oughts, but MGMT’s debut seems the most likely to fall victim to this kind of dismissive pigeonholing. Lest we forget, it was huge. “Kids” and “Electric Feel” were basically ubiquitous. So was “Time to Pretend,” which popped up in a fuck-ton of movies, TV shows, video games, and commercials. It was just used in Saltburn last year, further solidifying it as a go-to signifier of the mid to late-oughts in the same way any given CCR song must soundtrack the Vietnam War in movies. The band opened for Paul McCartney at Fenway Park in 2009. Jay-Z asked them to make a song for The Blueprint 3 (he scrapped it). This level of fame and commercial success was I’m sure amazing for Andrew VanWyngarden and Ben Goldwassers pockets, but not so good for their minds and souls. They’ve gone on record numerous times as being uncomfortable with the unexpected amount of exposure they received and, creatively, were clearly disinterested in trying to do anything like Oracular’s three big hits ever again. I recall choruses of disappointed fans around 2009-2012 complaining online, “I saw MGMT and they didn’t even play ‘Kids’…what the fuck??” So this is the strange dilemma MGMT found itself in during the heyday of indie blog rock. Oracular Spectacular catapulted VanWyngarden and Goldwasser into the limelight on the backs of three throwaway pop songs written essentially as a joke in their Wesleyan University dorm rooms. In the span of three years they went from singing Pulp covers at college parties backed by an iPod to opening for of Montreal, still backed by an iPod to signing with Columbia and recording their first album with the legendary Dave Fridmann. Soon they were playing major festivals and touring with Radiohead. If they had any idea they would become so big so fast, they probably would have made a very different album. Or maybe taken it more seriously. But that’s part of what makes Oracular Spectacular such a sublime album. It’s not serious (see also my previous thoughts on the Black Lips). This is the work of guys in their early twenties dicking around in the studio with the dude who produced Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. Look at their weirdo tribal hippie get-ups on the cover, watch one of the music videos, note how they wore capes on Letterman. Gen-Z or whoever else can make fun of it all they want…the band was ostensibly making fun of themselves in the first place. What else makes it outstanding?The seven other tracks I haven’t already mentioned. Just listen to them, I’m not going to write about them. MGMT’s story is fascinating in that it is so wildly unlikely in just about every conceivable way. They became massive on accident and will almost certainly never put out another album as successful as Oracular Spectacular.

In Rainbows by Radiohead October 10, 2007 / Self-released/ATO Radiohead’s Ed O’Brien said in 2008, “I never felt we were one of the great bands, up there with The Smiths or R.E.M. In my view, we’ve made three really good records The Bends, OK Computer and Kid A. What we needed was another great record just to seal it.” In Rainbows sealed it. For many, this album would be the bedrock of an argument for 2007 as the greatest year for indie rock. They’d have a strong case there. In his book This Isn’t Happening, Steven Hyden claims In Rainbows is the most beloved album in the Radiohead catalogue, even more than OK Computer and Kid A. That was published in 2020 and its become even more true in the ensuing years. In Rainbows didn’t have the kind of monumental career-making impact of OK Computer, or the prophetic, monolithic reputation of the genre-morphing Kid A. But it is arguably the most gorgeous collection of songs Radiohead ever released—each one taps into something deeply human and universal, without ever clearly being about anything specific. Yorke described the lyrics as based on “that anonymous fear thing, sitting in traffic, thinking, 'I'm sure I'm supposed to be doing something else’…It's similar to OK Computer in a way. It's much more terrifying." I’m not sure the manner in which In Rainbows was released has any influence on how the music is perceived today, but at the time it cast a wide shadow. Radiohead were not the first artist to release their music online as a pay-what-you-want download—Jeff Rosenstock, for one, already had been doing it for a while—but they were the biggest. The degree to which this choice influenced the way we think about and value music today, or whether it played a role in ushering in the streaming era is entirely up for debate. In my opinion, if it wasn’t Radiohead, it would’ve been some other major established musician. What I am sure of is that there is nothing else quite like In Rainbows in the history of rock music, and it will stand the test of time.

#2007 #indie rock #albums #listicle #lists

1 note · View note

animebw · 3 years ago

Text

Short Reflection: Tatami Time Machine Blues

Is there a point in making a sequel to The Tatami Galaxy?

Most likely, the answer is no. Masaaki Yuasa’s seminal 2010 exploration of college life and choice paralysis was as complete and self-contained as a story could possibly be. It spent 11 episodes saying everything it needed to say and left without any loose ends to tie up. And not only are there no real narrative threads to pull on for a follow-up, there’s no real way to recreate the complex time loop gimmick that drove its structure without breaking the narrative machinery in half. Tatami Galaxy was an incredible show, but it was also a show that could only ever work once. So while this twelve-years-later sequel might be little more than a fun nostalgia trip, can you really blame it? There’s nothing that Tatami Time Machine Blues can do that Tatami Galaxy didn’t already do first and better. Might as well just make like an aging rock band and play all the old hits again, secure in the knowledge that what worked then will still work now, even if it lacks the originality and nuance that made it so special to begin with.

To be clear, I have no problem with Tatami Time Machine Blues essentially just being a victory lap reminding you of how great Tatami Galaxy was. Pointless or not, even just existing in this world again is fun enough to justify checking this six-episode OVA out. Where else would I get a visual style this bizarre and expressive, with Shingo Natsume replicating Yuasa’s aesthetics to near perfection? Where else would I get dialogue this layered and verbose and packed full of interesting trivia? Where else would I get the uniquely raucous dynamic between the cynical nameless protagonist, his cackling personal shoulder demon Ozu, and the various stand-out side characters that populate the art-deco streets? There is nothing quite like Tatami Galaxy, not even among Yuasa’s other work. So even if this OVA is just an excuse to revel in the good times again, well, they’re still some damn good times. Just don’t expect anything like a proper continuation, because you’re bound to be disappointed.

Actually, even calling Time Machine Blues a sequel feels inaccurate. We’re still at the same college campus, still going through the motions as if it’s just any other go round the time loop- and indeed, the final episode quasi-canonizes this show as just one more revolution through Watashi’s failed attempts at reaching a rose-colored college life. No, it would be more accurate to descibe Time Machine Blues as a simplified retread. It’s got all the same characters, all the same themes, a just-different-enough use of time travel (as the title implies, this plot is all about time machine shenanigans and trying not to destroy the universe with a time paradox), and ultimately comes to the same basic conclusion as its predecessor. Watching this show feels very much like someone took Tatami Galaxy and simplified it for a lower reading level, as it were. You know how a lot of works of classic literature like, say, Great Expectations have graphic novel versions made of them to make them more easily digestible to younger readers? Like, maybe you’re not ready to tackle such a dense, wordy novel on its own terms, but you can still experience the story through comic form and get most of the point? That’s what Time Machine Blues reminds me of more than anything. It’s Tatami Galaxy for audiences who feel like Tatami Galaxy is too complicated and want a version of the story that doesn’t demand so much brainpower trying to keep up with it.

And again, I don’t mean this as a criticism! There’s plenty of value in making challenging works more easily accessible to everyone. But if you are someone who’s comfortable meeting Tatami Galaxy on its own footing, then this reader’s digest version is going to feel lacking by comparison. The time machine antics are fun, but they pale in comparison to the original’s thematically brilliant time loop structure. The ultimate conclusion is fine, but it lacks the sheer catharsis of the original’s beautiful climax. Even the animation, as near-flawlessly as Natsume recreates the series style, doesn’t hit quite the same imaginative heights as Yuasa was able to reach. Which is a severe nitpick, I’m aware, but why settle for a strong A when you could have an outright flawless A+? As art, as entertainment, as a statement on the importance of making the most of your life and not waiting for someone to work things out for you, Tatami Time Machine Blues is perfectly fine on its own terms, but just a little bit weaker and more superfluous than what came before it. The only thing it really adds, instead of just repeating, is that Akashi gets a little more personality as a deadpan scatterbrain who’s intellect tends to outstrip her common sense. Which I did like: Akashi and Watashi’s romance was always the weakest part of the Tatami universe, so making her character more interesting is a very welcome addition. But it’s ultimately a drop in the ocean of a show that’s otherwise a perfect example of the “everything the same, but worse” school of sequel writing.

You know what, though? At the end of the day, all that really matters is if I had fun or not. And for all my complaints, I absolutely had fun with Time Machine Blues. It’s little more than a victory lap, but it’s a well-deserved lap, and one that still mostly captures all the things that made Tatami Galaxy so entertaining, if not what made it exceptional. And maybe someday, if I feel like re-experiencing this kooky world but don’t have much brainpower to spare, this show will be just the low-carb alternative I’m looking for. But until then, I give Time Machine Blues a score of:

7/10

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #tatami time machine blues #yojouhan time machine blues #the tatami galaxy #tatami galaxy #yojouhan shinwa taikei

20 notes · View notes

violetnotez · 4 years ago

Text

HC: Seeing Them Shirtless for the First Time | JJK

Should I be getting ready for work? Yes, yes I should be 💀

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Music Genre: Rock | JJK

Characters: Gojo, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Shop Owner Note: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS ONE-Gojos in particularrrrrr

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

The first time you saw Gojo shirtless was during your first time being intimate with him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Gojo was just-perfect. You honestly couldn’t describe him any other way...yeah, he could sometimes be a pain in your ass with his boyish antics, but that somehow adds to that special charm he possesses. Even now, with his hands pinning yours above your head, lips molding into yours in a lustful heat, he was smiling as if he was having the time of his life. Gojo moved down from your lips, finally allowing you a second to breathe, instantly finding a spot on your neck, sucking and licking the skin as if his life depended on it. The sensation was overriding your system, your throat desperately trying to release a groan from the overwhelming sensation, intense heat traveling through your core. You felt him find the spot you were most sensitive in, that held back groan finally being stolen from your swollen lips. Embarrassment burst into your stomach, your knuckles tightening as you shifted to to the side, desperately trying to hide your face from making such a lewd reaction.

You felt Gojo chuckle against your skin, the vibration sending a shock wave throughout your spine and limbs. “Ah, Cmon doll, don’t be so shy,” he cooed, a devilish smirk encasing his features, “I like it when you make those little sounds for me.........and only me, right?” It was a taunt, a trap, and he knew it-if Gojo Satoru was anything, he was always confident in his abilities. And his ability to completely be able to control you, to keep you by his side, was no exception. Any other day, when you were thinking clearly you would Probabaly retort back with a back handed quip that would make him chuckle. But right now, with your head buzzing with adrenaline and only the thought of the way his skin felt against yours, his kisses burning into your flesh and the pulsating heat in your core...you just wanted him.

“Only you,” you whispered, voice wavering with nerves and adrenaline as your digits found the edge of his shirt, craving for more of his skin against yours. Gojo chuckled again, the sound warm and rich like molasses. Yet, his hand since again were on top of yours, now halting you in your pursuit of undressing him. “You really wanna do this doll? I’m not against it, not at all, but you dont have to-“

“I want to,” you interjected, face flushed with desperation, eyes wide with lust, “I want to so badly Gojo...I want you.” Gojo’s chest tightened at the words, a feral need exploding in his chest-god, the times he dreamed of this day and it’s finally happening...you were just too adorable, your hair tosseled from the heated make out sessions, lips puffy and skin so warm, your eyes practically begging him to devour you. How could he deny you that luxury, especially since you wanted it so much? He leaned in to your lips, digits tracing your skin in designs only he could imagine. He pulled away, mere centimeters from your skin. “You sure little one?” He asked again, using the nickname he gave you that always made you roll your eyes with a smile. It did just the trick, making you giggle at the name as you looked to the side-“I’ve always been ready, ya know.”

“Oh really?” He teased, that delicious smirk gracing his features. He leaned away from you, sitting up in the bed. “Well, I’m not too sure about that....” His digits wrapped around the hem of his shirt near his neck, pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it to the corner of his room. Gojo shook his hair out slightly, making the tendrils look even more chaotic than before. You felt your chest tighten by the sight of Gojo shirtless....you had imagined many times before, but seeing the real thing was way different, and way better. Gojo was built as perfectly as his personality, each muscle taught and visible in his abdomen and arms, the veins in his hand even more noticeable in the lighting. You gulped, staring at the way his sweatpants accentuated the dips of his hips, following down to the waist band of his boxers peaking out from his sweats.

Gojo noticed every gesture you made, loving how you drank in his form as he hovered over you. “Why don’t you take a picture-itll last longer,” he said as he leaned into your ear, earning a playful eye roll form you. He chuckled at your reaction, leaning back into your body, hands trailing the side of your waist. “Well if you’re not gonna take a picture....I don’t think it’s very fair that I’m the only one shirtless here....” your felt his digits find the hem of your shirt, teasingly tracing your skin under from underneath..

“So how about we change that, hm?”

The first time you saw Itadori shirtless it was by pure chance- He just cant seem to remember to bring a spare tshirt into the bathroom when he showers.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Yuuji cant seem to understand why your so flustered- he is so adorable and innocently oblivious its almost painful. Especially when he comes out of the bathroom from a shower, cotton candy pink hair still dripping with water droplets, slick adomen in full view, the “V” of his hip bones partially exposed from the band of his sweatpants. You just wanted to have a chill movie night with your boyfriend-but how can you think about choosing between a horror or a comedy when you have that in front of you? You gulp down a ball of saliva as Itadori casually talked about the different options of films, rummaging through his drawers for a clean shirt as if this was all a normal event-which it was not. Your eyes were glued onto him, drinking in every deifned dip and curve and trying to hold yourself back from thinking about...other ways this cozy date could end up....

But Yuuji knows you like the back of his hand....he knows when something is wrong with you, and you most deinfitely are not your self right now. He instantly begins to ask you questions, voice softly laced with worry. You reassure him your fine, really, but Itadori knows you way too well. He gently raises your chin with his pointer and middle finger, forcing you to look into his eyes. Your breathe gets hitched in your throat, brain suddenly and unbelievebaly clouded from being so so close to him, now knowing that the boyfriend you love so dearly looks like a damn god under his clothing making your heart ram against your chest. His voice was comforting and warm, eyes scanning your face for any sign of sadness or even maybe sickness.

“Whats on your mind?” he asks gently, trying to coax a response out of you so he can put his worries at ease....until he hears the words “your abs”, blurt out of your mouth at warp speed, your tone dazed and then immediately embarrassed, horror on your face for saying soemthing so honest. He blinks a few times, clearly not expecting that to come from you....but he would be lying if he didnt say he enjoyed it once it set in. A warm chuckle tumbles out of Itadori, that bright boyish grin plastered on his face. He really didnt mean to make you so flustered,..but he’s not complaining

The first time you saw Megumi shirtless was by force-he just hates being taken care of when he’s hurt.

Crimson red clumped against Megumi’s face, sticky and smeared glimpses of his pale skin glowing under the moonlight. His hair was matted down to his face from the slashes oozing out of his head, suit was slashed to bits, his ribs were killing him, and he had a limp on his left leg...but he was fine-honestly. Or that’s what he was trying to tell you...but you wouldn’t listen to a single second of the bull crap he was trying feed you. He was conflicted with emotions-on one hand, it almost annoyed him how utterly selfless you could be for him. It was 1am, the moon on its highest peak in the sky, and you were willing to play nurse for him....but on the other, it warmed him up inside that you did care so much. If he would allow himself to dwell on that emotion, he would admit-that it was .... nice....to have someone take care of him for once. He was used to bandaging each wound on his own, cleaning and disinfecting the soon to be battle scars, hissing to the walls at the pain it caused him. But with you there, you were soft, so gentle with him. Your touch was like a second adrenaline rush for him-you had yourself cradled in his lap, the skin of your thighs barely crazing his tattered uniform. Hands gently positioning his hair, pushing the wispy jet black strands away from the wounds.

“I can do this on my own,” he retorted quietly, his voice a few octaves lower from fatigue. “I bet you could..” you completely ignored him, continuing to busy yourself with closing a scrape on his skin with butterfly bandages. “-but why would I let you?” Megumi felt his breath hitch, taking a sharp breath in....any type of annoyance he felt with you being so god damn persistent instantly left his body, the only thing he can focus on was how much he loved your selfless nature-even if it could be annoying at times. But the instant he took in that deep breath, he felt a deep, guttural pain in his side, making him groan before he could stop it from spilling out of his mouth. That soft gaze you had turned to worry, your hands wrapping around his face, thumbs running smooth circles on his pale skin. “Your hurt....we’re going to need to-“

“N-no, I-“Megumi stuttered out, obviously flustered by the prospect of you seeing him so bare. “I-I’m fine. I can do this on my-“ his voice was stern and cold, yet the wavering tone made any attempt of sounding firm go invalid. You gave him a small smile, your fingers still running circles against his skin, making him look at you with nervous eyes. “Megumi, you are not fine,” you stated calmly, with eyes that simply said the opposite-you were genuinely worried for him. “please...you could have broken a rib, or done soemthing to cause a lot of damage...please, Megumi, I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.” You were asking him, pleading with him, and it broke Megumi in his core-he just couldn’t stand to see you look that scared for him of all people. Megumi sighed, eyes drifting down to the floor in hopes you couldn’t see his embarrassment as he gave in to you.

You helped Megumi shuffle out of his uniform, opting to cut it with some scissors halfway (as it was tattered to shreds already). Both of you were quite nervous...in your relationship, you had never down anything that would warrant for you to see each other’s body’s. So you being able to see him without a shirt felt like a huge step, even if it wasn’t such a big deal to an outsider. Once the fabric was finally off, you both sat in silence, your minds reeling. You knew Megumi was fit, but seeing exactly how much that work paid off brought heat flooding your body, your eyes focused on the way his breath contracted and relaxed his muscles, the moonlight catching the divots of his lower abdomen deliciously. Pale white Scars littered his skin from training, making his body even more mysterious to look at. Each scar was a story, some sort of battle, a lesson he had to learn...you wanted to learn about each and every one. Your hand felt drawn to them, digits slowly checking for signs of bruising, purposefully tracing those scars in order to burn them to memory. Fushigori was practically panicking, desperately trying to keep his heartrate lowered, the cool night air biting at his heated skin as your digits traced against his sides. You were only trying to detect the spots that could be damaged on his abdomen...but damn was it firing something inside him. He was feeling more comfortable like this, just relishing the feeling of your skin on his.

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

1K notes · View notes

immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years ago

Text

IOTA Reviews: Crocoduel

When you stop and think about it, this episode is really just the world's most intense custody battle.

Let's get into the thirteenth (chronologically the twelfth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Crocoduel

We start off with the band Kitty Section (composed of Luka, his timid sister Juleka, her “best friend” Rose, and Ivan) performing a concert for the super amazing Zoe and all the peons beneath her greatness (Alya, Alix, Nino, and Mylene). Luka notes its been a while since Marinette came to the Liberty. Because I guess even the show wants to forget the events of “Sole Crusher”.

Luka is still upset that Marinette hasn't wanted to be around him since their breakup, so after he walks away, the others scheme to force them to spend time together.

youtube

Yep, even though they promised to back off in “Gang of Secrets”, Marinette's friends are once again trying to meddle in Marinette's personal life as well as Luka's this time. Because it's not like they can understand how hard it is for two exes to remain friends after a breakup and give them their space, right? They plan to invite Marinette to Luka and Juleka's birthday party while reminding the audience that they're twins.

YES. THEY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN TWINS. ASTRUC HAS NEVER SAID OTHERWISE OR CONTRADICTED THIS STATEMENT IN THE PAST.

LUKA WAS NEVER TWO YEARS OLDER THAN JULEKA, JUST LIKE THERE WAS NEVER A WAR IN BA SING SE.

In all seriousness, I do feel like I was a little hard on Astruc for this. Compared to other things he's made canon on Twitter, this is fairly minor, and we only knew Luka was the older brother at first through a tweet. And considering the other retcon we'll see in the very next scene, this isn't as big of a deal as I made it initially.

Alya invites Marinette to the party, but she easily deduces that it's a trap. Alya then tries to convince Marinette to talk to Luka.

Uh... since when? When did Marinette lose all romantic feelings for Luka? The whole point of the breakup in “Truth” was to show that she couldn't pursue a romantic relationship with Luka because of her duties as Ladybug. She never showed any signs of not loving him, which made the breakup all the more tragic. Yeah, “Mr. Pigeon 72” was an excuse for her to go back to loving Adrien because the writers don't know how to write anything else, but it didn't mean she stopped loving Luka. You know, it's almost like the writers want to make sure the audience knows Lukanette will never happen and the sacred Love Square is the only way Marinette will ever feel love for someone else.

Alya still forces Marinette to go, making her ask Juleka if Luka won't be there. Some people have gone down on Marinette for this, but she does later acknowledge how wrong this was to ask, and apologizes to Juleka for trying to force her to do something she didn't want to do. If only Marinette's friends learned the same lesson.

Juleka goes to tell Luka about the party, but hesitates to tell Luka he can't go there. While he knows Juleka is hiding something, Luka is distracted by the sudden arrival of his father who he loves despite abandoning him for his entire life, Jagged Stone. However, Luka and Juleka's mother, the anarchy-loving Anarka isn't happy that much like his sperm when the condom broke, Jagged came in without her permission.

At the day of the party, Marinette panics as soon as she sees Luka, who in turn realizes she didn't want to see him. Rather than comfort Juleka who just ran away crying, the others comfort Luka, preventing him from being akumatized by Shadowmoth, though he still keeps his Akuma around just to be safe. Marinette apologizes to Juleka before Shadowmoth can akumatize her too (even though she got a Magical Charm in “Guiltrip” so it wouldn't work either way). Then Shadowmoth tries to akumatize one of the guests as they find out Jagged (who just arrived) is Luka's father, but since they're dumb teenagers who don't know Jagged was winning awards and being celebrated as a rock icon while Anarka was working two jobs and struggling to make enough money for rent, they think it's awesome. Very confusing day for Shadowmoth, isn't it?

Marinette also finds out Jagged is Juleka's father and finds out Juleka worries Jagged loves Luka more since they share more interests, which she thinks is true when Jagged gives Luka a guitar case and instructs her to not tell his sister. Marinette tries to call out Jagged for neglecting Juleka over Luka even though Jagged was more of a father to his pet crocodile than either of his biological children, but it's obviously a gift for Juleka, the first bass guitar Jagged ever owned, which calms her down. Funny how nobody acknowledges how Jagged practically abandoned his family, isn't it? Sure, it looks like he's trying to make up for it, but he just acts like he's always been Luka and Juleka's dad and they don't have any problems with their father literally never being in their lives until now.

Jagged's gift to Luka is a record of the first record he made in his band with Anarka before they broke up, Crododuel, but Anarka is naturally pissed he wants to give that to Luka. Jagged and Anarka argue over which one was the Yoko Ono in their relationship while they both grab the record, which Shadowmoth uses to akumatize the two as it breaks, turning them back into Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock respectively, Shadowmoth labeling them as Crocoduel.

Unlike the other team Akumas like the Punishers or the Gang of Secrets, Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock care more about fighting each other than working together, and they see getting Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous as a competition to help prove who was right in their argument. It's a pretty interesting gimmick, though I don't get how Shadowmoth thinks this will help him and not ignore Ladybug and Cat Noir while they fight.

Alya provides a distraction to help Marinette transform, and after we get Adrien's single scene to remind the audience he's still a main character, he transforms into Cat Noir. The two heroes give chase, but then Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock decide to take their fight to above the clouds.

Yeah, it's not like you have a form that specifically allows you two to fly, right?

All they had to say was that Marinette was still making more potions for that form, and it would have been better than ignoring the fact that they can fly.

Much like the hotel room during the night Luka and Juleka were conceived, the crossfire from Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock's fight starts to damage the area around them. Ladybug and Cat Noir get Luka and Juleka to safety, and Luka tells them about what's happening, while Ladybug spouts the lesson about people needing to talk even though they don't love each other anymore, reflecting the situation the writers retconned her into learning.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, a roll of scotch tape, and comes up with an idea that involves Juleka. She takes her away into an alleyway and gives her the Tiger Miraculous. The tiger Kwami, Roarr, demands Juleka show some courage, so Juleka yells in her face. Unfortunately, as much as I want to show this scene, the subs I got don't really match up, so I can't really give some screenshots of it. So I guess you can watch this scene from Full Metal Jacket instead to get the gist of things.

youtube

So Juleka takes the Tiger Miraculous and transforms into Purple Tigress.

I think the suit has a pretty good design. I like the striped pattern with the gold highlights around the black stripes, and think the color scheme is visually pleasing, especially the hair. I wouldn't call it one of my favorite hero suits, but I still like the way it looks.

Cat Noir launches Ladybug and Purple Tigress into the air where they split up to steal both halves of the record, but when they break them, no Akuma comes out. It turns out that since the record was broken while Jagged and Anarka were akumatized, they need to put it together again before breaking it in order to free the Akuma.

Purple Tigresse goes to distract Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock with her power, Collision, which she uses to KNOCK CAPTAIN HARDROCK'S SHIP ABOVE THE CLOUDS, TAKING GUITAR VILLAIN WITH HER.

Why the hell did it take four seasons to break this Miraculous out if it gives the user the ability to go Super Saiyan on the enemy? I think Cat Noir's expression after seeing the power in action says it all.

Cat Noir Cataclysms the record (because a record is just so hard to break without using the power of destruction, isn't it?), Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix everything, Jagged and Anarka somehow weren't killed by their own daughter, the three heroes pound it, and Ladybug gives two Magical Charms to Jagged and Anarka.

Back at the Liberty, Juleka tells the two to forget what caused them to break up and just apologize while they ignore the past, proving the writers really don't get how hard it is to move on from tough events in life. And despite building it up for the entire episode, Marinette and Luka talk in the final thirty seconds of the episode and just agree to be friends, meaning once again, Luka was sidelined in what should have been a focus episode for him.

Aside from the way Jagged and Anarka's relationship was portrayed coupled with the retcons surrounding Luka, this episode was alright in my opinion. Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock are some of my favorite Akumas, so I thought it was nice to see them again, even if we didn't get to see their powers at full potential. I also thought this was a really good episode for Juleka, as I felt like the hero debut really helped her grow as a person and didn't just feel like she was given a Miraculous because the plot said so. She wanted to help her parents, and using the Tiger gave her the courage to symbolically speak out while potentially launching them into the stratosphere.

But the biggest problem to me has to be the way Jagged is portrayed in the episode. Just like with “Truth”, the idea of Jagged being a terrible parent is just swept under the rug and everyone just accepts the fact that Jagged is Luka and Juleka's dad very well. Despite the idea leading to some interesting drama in a show that's no stranger to family drama, they don't really do much with the whole “Jagged abandoning Anarka” thing. Aside from a brief interaction between Luka and Jagged while the former was akumatized into Truth, nobody is really angry at Jagged. Nobody really feels angry at Jagged for what he did, despite the drama being the main focus behind the episode that also had the Lukanette breakup. You would think this would at least lead to some tension between his family, but nothing really comes from it other than an argument that was pretty much played for laughs. But considering this show has a history of teaching kids to love their parents no matter how cruel they are to them, I'm not entirely surprised.

Overall, it's just a decent, albeit forgettable episode. If the writing with Jagged was different, it could have been a lot better in my opinion.

182 notes · View notes

yinses · 5 years ago

Text

make it a show

| gojo has been away for awhile and now he’s missed … times two |

gojo satoru/reader/geto suguru

rating: 18*

rqst: okay okay why choose between geto and gojo? why not just have both?

a/n: why not indeed.

it starts with an i miss you text.

gojo was on another long mission. his reputation often preceded him in the worst ways and popularity drew him across the country- and then some. for two weeks now he’d been in europe trying to clear out an infestation.

he still checked in when he could. sending short texts to probe about your day and shooting tourist pictures to showcase the better parts of his trips. he made sure to send different sets to suguru, giving you both the opportunity to snuggle close and share the crumbs your mutual boyfriend left behind.

its twenty minutes later, after said text, that gojo boasts about the free premium wifi upgrade that had come with his hotel reservation. and less than two minutes go by before he decides what he planned to do with that commodity.

above your head, gojo takes in the scene eagerly from the face of your phone.

“so what are you wearing?”

you make a choked sound somewhere stuck between a laugh and a moan as geto laps firmly at the dampening fabric of your panties. his fingers run along the elastic, cheekily plucking and letting it snap back against your skin with a smack.

undeterred, your other boyfriend mumbles something incomprehensible before latching onto your clit and toys with you through the fabric.

gojo’s bangs fall into his face as he huffs, electric blue eyes darkening with lust. “this isn’t just show and tell, you two. don’t ignore me.”

his whine is cute, you think as your back arches off the bed when geto adds suction to his play through. your gaze darts down when you feel a nibble to the inside of your thigh- a nudge to get those lips moving.

“i-uh… the purple one’s,” you manage. thankfully you’re still wearing them otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to properly reply.

“aw, why couldn’t you have worn the blue ones?”

because you sudden thrust this upon us, you wanted to remind him. nor were you exactly keen on dirting up a new pair just for some quick fun.

“drop your knee to the side, honey. i want to see suguru work.”

you comply, letting the limb framing geto’s head come to rest by his shoulders. it improves your view too, just catching his dark gaze before his head drops back down again. his fingers finally hook on the edge and drag the fabric down your legs and gojo whistles at the sight.

“i don’t know what’s wetter. your pussy or his lips. but i guess its a packaged deal given the circumstances.”

he’s the only one who chuckles at that, as usual.

geto adds fingers, slender limbs sliding through your slick and circle your entrance.

“if you’re going to eat her out properly, let me see too.” he directs his attention to you. “hold the phone up for me, sweetheart. at least do some of the work.”

its snarky enough that you almost don’t want to comply but then geto is pausing and you know its a command to follow. reaching behind, you grasp the device and settle the camera facing just below your navel. as the new sole source of focus, geto raises his head and gives a cheeky little grin.

gojo coos immediately at the sight,” hey, baby. fuck you look beautiful today.”

the frame of the phone obscures your vision a little but you swear you see geto blush at the compliment. how could he not. even in another country, gojo was a smooth man.

“wish i was behind you right now, making you feel as good as you’re making her.”

gojo was always good at this- the phone sex. but he exceeded the expectations whenever he was granted a visual.

“eat her out for me, yeah? fuck, i bet i could taste it.”

the audio picks up on the shifting of clothing as gojo shimminging his pants down his hips to free his cock. he keeps the camera at the perfect angle fit the slow fisting of his cock in the frame

“you’re not in charge here, satoru,” geto murmurs all while lowering his head anyway. his mouth latches back onto your throbbing heat and fits his tongue between your labia. the hands finding purchase at your hips urge you to grind down as the talented muscle flicks up. sparks of pleasure prickles your nerves and you reach around the phone to tug the band free from his bun. before the dark tresses could trickle down against you, you’re there to comb it back.

“fuck- toru .. he feels so good.”

there is a hitch to gojo’s voice, something of a light pant as he responds. “i can see him, honey. he spoils you so good.”

geto’s nose brushes your clit when you rock forward and you cry out at the unexpected friction. he pulls back enough to return his fingers to the slick of your sex, two fingers easily dipping into your core. your hand slides to the back of his skulls as his fingers adopt a rhythm.

gojo seems keen on torturing himself by edging his fingers along the sensitive head without providing the needed friction. the distorted pleasure in his voice sounds like something is caught but you know he’s just staving it off as long as he can. you wonder how flushed his face is right now, but you can’t bring yourself to interrupt geto enough to ask for an update.

“he’s going to fuck you so good, honey. bet you’re loose enough for it.” gojo swallows audibly and you can tell he’s pushed back yet another orgasm. “tell him you’re ready. … please.”

with a simpering plea like that how could you not comply.

the free hand not currently working you towards nirvana, slides up your stomach to cup the weight of your breast. unable to resist, your legs come up to squeeze around the protruding limb, shamelessly rocking against the muscle of his bicep.

“fucking hell, you’re such a dirty girl.”

you can only whine when geto flexes in response, or maybe its because of the fingers finally leaving you. the same wet fingers take the phone from you, leaving a tacky residue behind. the bed shifts as geto rises to his knees, shaking away your hold.

he’s looking at you properly now, mouth free. “i’m waiting on that begging.”

cheeks warm and lips bitten raw, you give his leg one last desperate hump, hoping eager desperation can smooth the way. “please fuck me. make gojo cum,” you add and to your satisfaction the man’s groan rumbles against your stomach.

geto leans over you to drag a free pillow closer. the phone mostly sinks into the plush fabric but he’s able to angle it in just right. from the corner of your eye you can finally see gojo, skin flushed and cock fat and leaking. his hand works in short jerks, thumb darting across the head the way he likes.

geto’s hands pry your legs apart again, but his attention is directed to the phone.” you going to hold out on us all night? this is a mutual exchange,” he teases.

your other boyfriend huffs, but his eyes greedily take in the sight of geto stripping bare. “i think i liked you better when your mouth is full.”

geto doesn’t miss a beat. “you normally do.”

he takes one of your thighs up and hooks it at his hip. geto takes you slowly, making you feel every inch and drag as he parts your folds with his cock. the burn is absent but the stretch persists as you babble. where gojo favored length, geto was graced with width. frankly they were right to call you spoiled, blessed with the best of both worlds.

“is he all the way in, princess?” gojo’s voice is strained as he asks as if he can’t see half of the cock still working its way in.

your tongue is thick and heavy but you manage, whimpers with eager hope the sounds might coax him to go faster. you could only ask, after all, geto rarely took kindly to unsolicited demands. “not yet, but i already feel so full, toru.”

“fuck yeah you do. always such a snug fit. can’t get enough of either of you.”

geto continues to ease himself deeper, confident and calculated, until the base nudges your clit. large hands caress the curve and down to your hip to squeeze the flesh. it marks the steady increase of his pace, hips drawing back nearly all the way before smacking back against you pelvis.

he wasn’t a quiet lover, but he knew when to take advantage of gojo’s presence. his shadow encompasses you as the edge of his teeth drag against your jaw. ”make it pretty for him, bunny,” he coos against the shell of your ear. “make him come home.” is emphasized by a firm thrust that rocks your entire body.

then he’s pulling back to haunches before gojo can complain about the obscured view.

your fingers grasp at the sheets when he thrusts into you at a sharper angle. the hand at your hip goes tighter as he fucks the tremble right out of you. you can still see gojo, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he matches the pace driving into you. able to catch the silent prayer in his gaze, you answer is with a broken whine.

“he’s really giving it to you ... and you’re taking it so well,” his breathing is short, heavy with his impending climax.

“he’s so deep, toru. i feel like there isn’t even room to squeeze him. geto groans when you try, hissing through his teeth as he picks up the pace. you try to maintain eye contact with the distant shaman but he’s not doing a good job either. blue eyes greedily take in everything there is to offer, darting from the jiggle of your breast to the bead of sweat forming on geto’s temple.

everyone’s tipping the edge. you can feel the palpable tension in the air on the brink of snapping.

your vision whites out the moment he starts to spurt, thick strands bringing the arc of his hips to a sloppy grind. the harsh pant against your lips is a brief warning before he swallows your tongue eagerly, groaning the remnants of his release into your mouth.

in your ear, gojo follows the sentiment, breathing heavily. you can imagine the mess he makes of himself, chest white with sticky streaks of cum. he is very much out of breath but chuckles anyway as geto pulls himself free.

“messaged received. i’ll try to get home soon.”

#gojo satoru #geto x reader #geto suguru #gojo x reader #gojo sins #geto sins #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

817 notes · View notes

charlie-rulerofhell · 4 years ago

Text

For they know exactly what they do

Today there was a pretty long article published in the German newspaper FAZ, written by Julia Schaaf. Since there were quite a few interesting topics raised in it and Måneskin talked about some new aspects (or in more detail), I translated the whole thing (it might also have helped me to procrastinate).

Full interview in English under the cut.

For they know exactly what they do

June 22, 2021

Four young rock musicians from Rome are today's hottest band. Måneskin are enchanting Europe. Why? We met them for an interview.

Every romance needs its founding myth, an anecdote from the beginning, something you can tell later in more difficult times for self-assurance.

In the case of the band Måneskin, who first had Italy and now half of Europe wrapped around their fingers, and who are now trying to conquer the rest of the world with their rock music, there is the story of the shoe box. Rome, around five years ago: Four teenagers who are meeting every day after school in their rehearsal room to make music together, and sometimes they play their songs on the Via del Corso in the city centre in front of a changing audience. One day they want to record their own stuff. They find a studio that they can actually afford and as they go there they bring a shoe box, with the name of the band written on it, 'moonshine' in Danish, the bassist's mother is Danish. In the box: around seven kilogram of coins. The things you get from playing music on the streets. Everyone searching through Instagram for photos from that time can find four hippies with children's faces, three boys in batik, the girl is wearing a straw hat.

As they have to pay [for the recording], frontman Damiano David, 22, says that there was this guy, Angelo, and his bandmate Victoria De Angelis, 21, is interrupting: “No, Andrea, not Angelo”, and all of them have to laugh because a rigid studio manager with the Italian name 'angel' would be even funnier for a founding myth. David continues his story: “The guy was completely dumbfounded. 'We can't do that.' We went: 'Sure we can, that's worth the same even if it's just 20 cent coins, it's still 300 euros.” Thomas Raggi, 20, the guitarist of the band, is gasping for air as he laughs, while drummer Ethan Torchio, 20, is smiling dreamily. David finishes: “And then we snuck off before he was able to count it.” [the German text says 'verdrücken' here which is just a colloquial way of saying 'we left', but it entails some sort of a dramatic exit, so yeah, let your thoughts get creative how they left exactly :D].

Four young musicians on the verge of global fame are sitting on a white interview sofa in Berlin, completely styled, babbling across each other like overeager teenagers.

Ever since the Roman band first won the music festival Sanremo and then also the Eurovision Song Contest, carried by the enthusiasm of European viewers, you could say Måneskin has become a phenomenon. “Rock 'n' Roll never dies!”, Damiano David yelled fueled by the adrenaline of winning, and the insinuation that circulated on social media of the singer snorting during the counting of votes in front of a live camera – including their strict denial followed by a negative drug test result – might have given an additional boost to their public interest, their exploding album, ticket and merch sales, and their outstanding success on Spotify.

“We think it's a shit prejudice against rock music that there always have to be drugs involved. We fully threw ourselves into our participation with the utmost professionalism. We give everything for the music. So of course we don't want people to think that we can only do that because we take drugs.” – Victoria De Angelis

Prior to Eurovision, Måneskin was more of an insider's tip outside of Italy. Handmade rock music, not creating something entirely new but paying homage to the good old times with classic guitar riffs and cracking drum beats, being a lot of fun but also quite fragile and vulnerable at times and, first and foremost, conveying a captivating energy. Finally, on the stage of Rotterdam, live after so many months of isolation and renunciation, this wave of energy spilled straight over into European living rooms. It seemed easy to (mistakenly) interpret the winning song “Zitti e buoni” (Shut up and behave) as a declaration of frustration of our youth in times of a pandemic. In fact, singer Damiano David is singing about the favourite topic of the band: the unrelenting need to, against all odds, be yourself, despite or perhaps because you are different. The message fits their provocative sex appeal, which the band uses to demonstrate their independence of gender norms at any given time. But the core essence of rock music has always been the promise of unlimited freedom.

Thus at the first moment, the meeting with Måneskin is kind of startling. It's Wednesday, we are in the top floor of the new Sony head quarters in Berlin. The four Italians have just started their two-week long promotion tour through Europe. In the afternoon there will be a live concert in a queer club [the SchwuZ, but that's not mentioned here] in Neukölln, which will be streamed via TikTok. Around one million viewers will watch the show, some of them even from Brazil, so people at Sony are pretty excited [for Måneskin to come here]. But at first, these stunningly gorgeous creatures [yes, that's the exact wording :D] are standing surrounded by an entourage of people – their management, PR team, a stylist, a photographer, people who can hold a smartphone or a cigarette if needed [this paragraph is worded a little weirdly, especially taking into account that basically their whole team / 'entourage' is just friends of them, but it seems like the journalist didn't know that or maybe they just wanted to describe their first impression]. They seem like fictional / artificial characters out of a Hollywood movie. Transparent frill blouses with blazers and flared leather trousers, even the platform boots, everything brand-new, the makeup makes their faces look like a glossy magazine cover even in person. The smokey eyes of De Angelis and Raggi make them look smug and bored. Later, on the pictures it will probably look cool.

So of course your first impression might be: This band is under contract to industry giant Sony ever since their success on an Italian casting show [X Factor] in Winter 2017. The music industry must have its hand in the game when a band is photographed half-naked by Oliviero Toscani and styled by Etro. Also, one does not simply rent a villa with a pool in Rome to produce new music there, isolated from the rest of the world. And who else went to London for two whole months, shortly before the winter lockdown, just for inspiration? After the TikTok concert in Berlin – De Angelis and David are now wearing fishnet shirts that sparkle with every move, their bare nipples covered with an X of black tape – the band is posing with a few influencers. In the world of social media you would call that 'producing content'. But what does that mean for a band who are preaching their hosanna of authenticity? How authentic is Måneskin? And is their pointedly casual approach to sexuality and gender cliches in today's pop-cultural spirit more than a marketing strategy?

We're in the interview, the recording device is running for not even five minutes, when Victoria De Angelis says: “Actually, we just try to be ourselves and do what we really want to do.” And really: The more you listen to those four how they speak about the early days of the band in their slurred Roman dialect, about the shoe box and their own experiences with being different, but most importantly about their shared obsession [with music], the more you realise that [De Angelis] is very serious. Ethan Torchio, who got his first drum kit at the age of six or seven from his father because he was beating everything he could reach, says: “For me, music is like food. I cannot live without it.” The bassist next to him laughs at his pathos. Singer Damiano David applauds the otherwise more reserved friend for his truthfulness [it says 'klarer Punkt', meaning 'for the point he makes', but it makes it seem like Damiano is agreeing with Ethan here, although it doesn't indicate whether he agrees that yes, music is everything for Ethan or that he understands and feels the same].

De Angelis and guitarist Raggi already knew each other from middle school and they were the ones who tried to form a band at the age of only 13, a band that actually took music seriously.

De Angelis: “It's just difficult at that age to find other people who really put everything into music and who truly commit themselves and are willing to invest a lot of their time.”

Raggi: “We set strict rules and scheduled fixed times for the rehearsals, for every day.”

David: “Fever, stomach ache, there was no excuse. Even if you were feeling sick in the rehearsal room. At least you were in the rehearsal room.”

The way the four of them talk across each other, completing each other's sentences, taking turns in talking and sometimes joking about each other, seems intimate and playful. Singer David remembers how at first bassist [De Angelis] was merciless towards him when it came to her first metal band project, as she told him that he wasn't committed enough [to the music]: “Back then I was still playing Basketball. I was one of the people that Vic absolutely didn't want [in her band].” Drummer Torchio was later discovered through Facebook, even though there had already been a drummer, a close friend, but he was not good enough. It seems as if even back then music was everything for them. Even if it meant that only Raggi managed to graduate.

And why rock, why rock music of all things? Because it's great, the four of them say in unison. David adds: “Actually, it's a genre that allows you to do everything you want to do.”

When they played on the street, they were laughed at by their classmates. But not only there. De Angelis explains that she never wanted to be a typical girl: “I was always deterred by those stupid boxes that people put you in, and that are just restricting and constraining you, because something is only regarded as male or female. I always rejected that. Instead, I just wanted to do the things I enjoyed doing, I went skating and played football.” Torchio says: “Friends who are not friends anymore were already telling me at the age of ten that those“ – he grabs his long, silky black hair – “were wrong. Because I'm a boy and boys are meant to have short hair, long hair is only for girls. I was bullied a lot for that.”

“Compared to the past, people in our age became much more open-minded. It gets better.” – Thomas Raggi

Frontman David on the other hand, for whom eye shadow, jingling earrings and nail polish as well as his bare torso with the tattoos have become trademarks by now, says: “I was actually more of the average boy.” De Angelis convinced him to try out some eyeliner, which he describes as a spiritual awakening: “I liked myself much more [with makeup]. I saw myself more as myself. As if it had been a suppressed desire of mine.” On a trip to Copenhagen with the others, when he realised that it really didn't matter what people were thinking about him, he got his first fake fur [coat? the article doesn't specify that] in a second-hand shop and let his clothing style be guided by his own love to experiment: “I realised that my whole life I was just going at half speed.” When it comes to diversity all four of them are becoming almost missionary.

At the same time, their success is not only opening doors for them. Back home in Rome they are barely able to go out on the street due to all the paparazzi. “[You need a] hoodie and huge sunglasses”, David says, “the mask is quite helpful, too.” And still, none of them is complaining, and Torchio explains why: “Even if those experiences right now may have sides that are not so pleasant, we still know that for us a dream is coming true. We experience something that we always had in our minds, so we are willing to face every consequence that this entails.”

So is the band facing difficult times, is Måneskin going to change with all the success? Again, all of them answer at the same time.

David: “I'm not worried about that.”

Raggi: “No way!”

De Angelis: “On the contrary. Everything that happened to us happened because we are who we are, so we want to continue the exact same way and stay ourselves.”

Just a few hours later, they are at the stage in Neukölln, bouncing around like pinballs, hammering at their instruments, flirting with each other. “We are out of our minds, but different from the others”, David sings their winning hymn against conformism, and: “The people talk, unfortunately they talk.” Here on stage, the four paradise birds [a German word describing someone with a flamboyant personality] with their half-nude-glittering outfits are radiating an incredible energy with the utmost sincerity, and you begin to wish there was a live audience instead of the TikTok cameras, absorbing and spreading this energy. Måneskin. A cry for a life after the pandemic, a cry for freedom and a better world.

“We do what we wished for all our lives.” – Ethan Torchio

#måneskin #maneskin #måneskin interview #my stuff #i'm sorry if someone already translated it but i was working on this for the past 3 hours now so i'm still gonna share it #i know most of it is not very new but there were some quite interesting details in there #and it's just always great to read about those four dorks so i wanted to share it with all of you who wanted to read it but couldn't #enjoy and please ignore any possible mistakes i didn't have the time to proof-check everything

185 notes · View notes

robinrunsfiction · 4 years ago

Note

CAN I GET A FRANK X READER FIC WHERE THE BAND GOES OUT FOR LUNCH AND Y/N STAYS AT THE BUS AND SLEEPS IN FRANKS BUNK AND THEY GET BACK AND FRANK SEES HER AND JUST GETS INTO BED WITH HER AHD HOLDS HER AND ITS ALL FLUFFY

Hold You Here

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anons Word Count: 2,000 Author’s Note: I’m combining this with another similar request, which resulted in a longer story! I hope everyone enjoys! TW for a brief mention of Gerard’s addiction struggles in 2004

To be in a band meant that your bandmates were your most intimate friends. Hours, days, weeks spent cramped together in small confined spaces meant that everyone saw each other at their best, worst, and everything in between. Platonic physical affection wasn’t an unusual occurrence and neither was sharing beds so that the fewest number of hotel rooms could be reserved to save money, curling up under a blanket together while watching a movie on the bus, not to mention all the on-stage antics, it was all taken in stride.

It also helped that everyone looked out for each other, but it seemed as if Frank looked out for you more than the others. When things became hectic, or when you were suffering from one of your migraines, he’d always be the one checking up on you to make sure you were okay. Spending hours up late at night talking with him was one of your favorite ways to pass time on the bus. You’d developed quite the soft spot for the chaotic guitarist.

The band had been touring what felt like non-stop for ages, but especially now that Three Cheers was out. It had been a very long, hot summer full of meeting fans, rocking out, and if you were being honest with yourself, way too much partying on everyone’s part. You were feeling pretty burnt out, but the success of the band made it worth it.

Now it was the last week of Warped Tour 2004 and you could tell summer was ending by how quickly the nights were cooling down. As usual when the tour was stopped over for a couple nights, both a bonfire, and most of the bands, were lit. You were standing as close to the fire as you could without melting the rubber on your chucks trying to keep warm.

“Hey,” Frank said, walking over to stand next to you.

“Hey, how’s it goin?” You asked

“Good. Cold?”

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes. “I decided to dress cute, and now I’m freezing my ass off.”

“Who were you dressing up for?” Frank asked, unzipping his hoodie.

“No one really,” you replied, watching as he took off the sweatshirt. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you warm,” he replied.

“You don’t have to,” you started as he put it over your shoulders.

“Too late,” he replied with a smirk that faded into a soft smile.

You looked up at him, in the dim light of the bonfire and you felt your heart skip, like a switch had been flipped. That soft spot you held in your heart for him suddenly felt overwhelmed, like the quiet feelings were now screaming in your ears.

“I bet it’s warmer on the bus,” you suggested, deciding to lean into the moment. You just hoped you were gauging the situation correctly.

His eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded. “I bet you’re right, wanna go back?”

“Yea.”

The walk across the parking lot was silent, as your hands brushed against each other’s, shoulders bumping occasionally. Climbing into the bus, you wandered to the back and confirmed no one else was around, and when you turned back to Frank he seemed a little nervous.

“Ya know you do look really cute. Like not just tonight, like all the time,” he said.

“Thanks,” you replied, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. You were in your 20s, why were you suddenly feeling like a middle schooler talking to their crush?

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” He offered after an awkward silence hung between you.

“Sure. Nothing scary though, I’m tired of horror.”

“How can you be tired of horror?” Frank asked with feigned shock.

“Because that’s all we watch and we’ve watched almost every movie we have 100 times over.”

Frank started flipping through the stack of DVDs that the band had accumulated through countless tours. “What about ‘10 Things I Hate About You’?” he asked.

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, plopping down on the couch and pulling off your shoes.

Frank put the movie in the DVD player and turned off the lights, sitting next to you. You glanced over, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He glanced back and you snapped your eyes back to the tv. As the movie progressed, Frank casually put his arm over the back of the couch and you settled into his side.

“I wanna go play paintball, like real paintball, some time,” you said, watching Kat and Patrick’s date on the screen.

“We should go then,” Frank replied.

“Just us? Or,” you trailed off.

“Yea, I mean unless you wanna invite other people.”

You looked up at him, and he was looking back down at you. "No, just us," you said softly.

"Cool," he said with a goofy smile.

You had to bite your lip to keep from giggling, but in that moment, the energy between you shifted. Frank started to lean in and you closed your eyes as his lips met yours. At first the kiss was soft and tender, almost tentative. But then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer and your hand ran through his hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally came up for air, you couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw how happy Frank looked. "That was fun," you laughed.

"I've been wanting to do that forever," he said, running a hand through his hair, smoothing it down.

"Well we should do it again sometime," you replied.

Just then, loud, drunken voices could be heard outside the door to the bus and you both jumped apart.

"They're in here makin' out or something," Ray shouted over his shoulder with a giggle. You knew there was no way they could have seen you two just minutes before, but the joke still rattled you.

"No they weren't," Mikey said disbelievingly, as he and Gerard followed.

You glanced at Frank who was shaking his head at your bandmates before he changed the subject to something totally random. Things had literally just started with him, and it felt fragile. The last thing you wanted was to have it all fall apart like nothing happened, and be left wondering forever what could have been.

The next day, nothing about the prior night was discussed between you and Frank, but it had been a busy day of press, playing, and meeting fans. When you were climbing back into your bunk, completely exhausted, you spotted a folded up piece of paper on your pillow. You closed the curtain behind you and turned on the small light above your bed. When you unfolded the note, you immediately recognized Frank's scrawling handwriting.

(YN), all I've been able to think about today is how your lips felt on mine and wondering when I can feel it again. I can't remember anything that was said to me because I was thinking about how I'd rather just be talking to you. I hope sometime before the end of this tour we can hang out alone together again.

XO, frnk

You bit your lip to keep from squealing with delight.

The last few days of Warped Tour were just as much of a blur, and when that tour was over, you were quickly shipped off to another one. Gerard was struggling and the whole band was impacted. Everyone dealt with it in their own way, and luckily you had Frank to brush away the worried tears when your brain wouldn't quiet enough to let you sleep at night.

Soon after, Gerard got the help he needed and when he rejoined the band, you were immediately sent back out on the road. Everything felt a little brighter that fall.

You and Frank were as good as ever, but still keeping your relationship quiet. His hand would find yours when no one else was around. You'd each sneak into each other's bunks and spend the nights cuddled together. Then there was the series of excuses as to why you two should share hotel rooms, which included Mikey texting too much, Ray talking too much, and Gerard keeping the light on all night drawing, among others.

So when you were blindsided with a migraine one morning, you were not at all pleased. The pain throbbed through your head as nausea rolled through your stomach. You groaned as you slid out of your bunk and stumbled to the front of the bus, which was obnoxiously bright, to the cabinet holding the medicine.

"There's sleeping beauty," you heard Ray laugh, but you just grunted in response. You grabbed the bottle of Excedrin and silently prayed they'd do their job quickly as you took a dose.

"You ok?" Frank asked as you slumped down on the couch.

"No, migraine."

Your bandmates groaned, knowing how much of a pain, literally and figuratively, they were for you.

"So you don't wanna go grab lunch?" Mikey asked.

"Please don't make me think about food or I might get sick."

"Do you want me to stay back with you?" Frank offered. It didn't even register how much concern he was showing toward you.

"No, I just wanna sleep and hope it goes away before we have to play tonight."

"Ok, we'll leave you alone. Come on guys," Gerard said, shooing the guys out. You glanced up and saw Frank giving you a sympathetic look before leaving the bus.

You dragged yourself back to the bunks, closing the door to the main room behind you and looked at your bunk. There was no way in hell you were climbing back up into it. Instead climbed into Frank's.

You pulled his blanket over you as you curled up in a ball facing the wall. His pillow smelled faintly of his shampoo, but not enough to make you feel sick, or maybe the medication was finally kicking in.

It felt like no sooner you'd fallen asleep that you heard voices in the front of the bus. You wondered how long you’d been out, but didn’t care enough to check the time. Before you could drift off again you heard the door opening and closing softly. Shuffling steps stopped behind you and then you felt someone climb in the bunk behind you.

"Hey," Frank said softly, his arm wrapping around your side.

"Hi," you answered, a smile forming on your face for the first time all day, not that he could see it.

"Feeling better?"

"A bit. Not 100% yet, but better than earlier."

"Mind if I nap with you?"

"Please do," you replied.

Frank drew the curtain shut and settled in behind you. He brushed aside your hair and placed a soft kiss on the side of your neck before giving you another quick squeeze.

You drifted back to sleep for a while, and when you woke up again, your headache was mostly gone you were relieved that you'd be able to play that night without feeling awful. As you stretched your legs out, Frank shifted, pulling you tighter against him.

"Better yet?" He murmured sleepily.

"Yea," you said, not moving more, afraid of disturbing the comfortable cocoon you two were in.

“So at lunch the guys were talking,” Frank started.

“‘Bout what?” You asked, rolling over.

“Us.”

“Oh?” Your heart rate going up.

“We went to this café for lunch and I got you a cupcake, it’s in the fridge by the way. And they were just wondering if there’s something going on between us.”

“What’d you say?”

“I just brushed it off, they were just giving me shit.”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly feeling a little dejected.

“Do you still wanna keep us a secret?” He asked.

“I dunno," you mumbled. "Do you?”

Frank intertwined his fingers with yours. "It's been kinda fun this way. But I also kinda wanna tell everyone I know that I'm the luckiest dude in the world BECAUSE I'm with you."

“Let's decide later,” you replied. “For right this moment, let’s just enjoy this.”

"Good idea," he replied with a soft smile before leaning in and kissing you lovingly.

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #frank iero fanfic #frank iero imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance imagine

202 notes · View notes

t-o-m-hollands · 4 years ago

Text

Summary: It’s the late summer of 2004. You are set to travel across the country for university and your best friend Tom is staying behind. You spend your last night together before you leave.

Themes: Friends to lovers, love confessions, first love.

Warnings: Drinking beer. One mention of smoking weed. Mentions of parents fighting and also implied neglectful parents. Smut (+18), two spanks?? otherwise pretty tame.

Word count: 3,4 k

Notes: I don’t know, this might be a bit different? Or it might just feel that way to me. It’s very reminiscent of teenage years and first love and nostalgia. Please let me know your thoughts, I’m genuinely not sure what to think about this one.

Massive thank you to @augustholland who read through it and very kindly reassured me that it wasn’t bad 💖

Also, this fic was inspired by the Phoebe Bridgers song. I’ve never actually listened to it but it keeps showing up in my recommendation and i like the title of it so this is what i imagine that song is about. Mostly I listened to Harry Styles - Fine Line while writing this.

You finish up early that afternoon. Wayne, your old boss, tries not to cry as he hugs you goodbye. He tells you to take care in a gravelly voice close to breaking, as he avoids looking at you. It’s your last shift in the greasy bar, where for the last two years you’ve been selling cheap beer and watered down whiskey to weary old men and rowdy students who come in for a game of pool. It hasn’t paid much, just a few pounds an hour; just enough so that on each thursday you and Tom have enough money for movie tickets at the local cinema. It’s your tradition. Like a religious man goes to church each sunday; you spend your thursday nights with Tom’s arm slung around your shoulders, watching whatever new film they have on, sharing a bowl of popcorn between you. Afterwards you'll have burgers at the fast food joint across the street; talking about the movie long into the night, sharing a bag of fries.

When you were younger and hadn’t been able to afford to pay Tom had sneaked you both into the cinema anyway. Your hand in his, he had led the way into the movie theatre when no one was looking. Sitting in the back row he’d sneak you Fruit Polos to snack on, his arm slung around your shoulders, as you watched movies you were way too young for.

Last week was your final movie screening; some light-hearted American comedy, and the entire way through it you fought the lump in your throat, forcing yourself not to cry. Tom hadn’t laughed either; had just held you closer than usual.

Tomorrow you are set to leave the small seaside town behind you, the place where you have spent most of your life, for a drive all across the country; to start university in a city you’ve only visited once before. You’re not sure when you’ll return.

Thus lately everything has been laced with goodbyes; childhood having reached its end.

Just two days ago there had been the last bonfire where you had watched the Holland boys fight each other while playing football as his parents looked on and laughed, grilling sausages over the open fire.

It was on the same rocky beach where you have spent many summer days; grilling food on the open fire and throwing back cheap beer with your friends from school. You have scraped your knees on these rocks, burned your skin from both the bonfire and the sun there; have had your heart broken over and over and over again during your school years as you watched Tom kiss whatever girl he was dating at the time by the fire during summer night parties.

Maybe you had broken his heart a few times as well.

As the afternoon light turns everything golden you drive through the main street in the small town where everyone knows everybody, and has done for generations. You watch the people as you drive them by. You know everyone’s name, know each crack in the pavement; can find your way home in the dark.

God knows how many shoes you’ve worn out over the years walking down these streets.

The radio plays a blink-182 song you know by heart as you follow the road out of the city, through the woods and up to the coast. At the end of a muddy track, on the border to the forest, stands a shabby old caravan. It faces the beach and above the door christmas lights are lit up all year round.

The Holland family legend says that Tom’s great uncle had won the small patch of land in a bet. Unable to build a large house he had bought a caravan and put it on the lot. The old man had lived in the Shed for the rest of his lifetime, before passing it on to Tom; the youngster of the family, his younger brothers having yet to be born. When he had turned seventeen he moved out of his parents larger, more comfortable house, and into the Shed. His mother had agreed on it on the condition he took on the apprenticeship to become a carpenter that he had been offered.

You remember when he had told you of his decided future, one late evening as you sat on the driftwood by the beach, smoking weed and watching the sun set over the horizon. It had felt right somehow, you had been able to imagine him working with his hands, skillfully forming and bending wood to his will; his long and slender fingers knowing just how to fix things. Tom has always been good at mending things. It had been three years now and he was a full time employee at the JBT Carpentry Services. He says it doesn’t pay much, but he’s happy; and that's all that matters.

As you park the car outside the Shed Tom comes out. Standing under the colorful christmas lights he grins widely as he sees you, his eyes crinkling at the sides. The most genuine smile you know. He’s tanned from a summer spent on the beach, his hair a wavy mess; as if he’d just woken up from sleep. It’s a warm august day and the world seems sunbleached somehow; but in the afternoon light Tom looks golden.

You are painfully aware that it is the last time you’ll see him like this for many months to come.

Walking up to him and he gives you a bear-hug; his warm, hard body pressed against yours, holding onto you tightly. With your face in the crook of his neck you breathe him in and discover that a faint trace of bonfire smoke still lingers on his skin. It all feels achingly familiar and safe. So heartrendingly unlike the uncertain life at university that lies in front of you.

Tom is your safe place.

Your parents had always fought like cat and dog and sometimes when you were younger and they’d argue you’d climb through your window and walk all the way over to the Holland household. You were always welcomed there and his parents didn’t ask any questions, no matter how late the hour; instead they fed you, treating you like a member of the family around the dining table with gentle teasing and reminders of homework that needed to be done, letting you sleep over when needed. No questions asked.

With the years the fighting at home got worse. When Tom fixed himself a beat-up old Land Rover and moved out to the Shed you’d call him from the payphone down the road. He’d always answer, telling you to pack up; and that he was on his way. He’d pick you up by the end of the street, a duffle bag with schoolbooks and a change of clothes slung over your shoulder. He’d take you back to his place to sleep. His caravan only had one bed, so you used to curl up next to each other in bed. On the nights when you were crying he’d hold you, and in the morning he’d make you breakfast before you both went off to school.

Your parents never noticed your temporary absence.

Tom lets go of the hug, but with an arm around your waist he leads you into his home. There’s a lingering scent of fried food in the air and the boombox is playing the 3 Doors down CD he’s been obsessed with since you bought it for his birthday. You tread the cherry wood veneered flooring with your battered tennis shoes, feeling more at home here than anywhere else on earth.

“Fancy a beer?” Tom asks, leading the way to the kitchen area. “Warn you though, it's warm. Just got back from the store so they haven’t had time to cool”.

Everything is warm today, and the caravan is no exception. The ancient AC had given in years ago and Tom could never afford having it fixed. You heave yourself up on the countertop, replying a simple “sure” to his question.

He opens a Stella and hands it to you. He isn’t wrong, the beer is tepid. Yet you drown half the bottle in one big swig; happy just to have something to do with your hands when he’s standing so close to you. Gulping down on the liquid and you cannot help but notice Tom’s eyes on your throat as you swallow. He opens a bottle for himself and takes a swig.

You smile at the ancient gray t-shirt he’s wearing. At one point there had been a band logo on it, but it has long since been washed out. He notices you smiling at him and as if it's infectious a smile broadens on his face as well. “What?” he asks, leaning against the small counter across from you.

“Nothing” you say, smiling wider. “Just wondered how many times I’ve seen you in that shirt. I mean, it has to be near a couple of thousand times by now”.

“You don't exactly love buying new clothes either” he says, a teasing smile playing at his lips as he looks at your washed out jeans shorts. “I know for a fact that those aren’t new, darling”. His eyes linger on your legs for a moment too long before he looks away, taking a swig from his beer.

“So, when are you leaving?” He asks, and you can tell that he’s trying to sound relaxed, but leaned against the countertop, his arms crossed in front of him, head bowed; holding onto the bottle of Stella he’s nursing with a tight grip. He looks tense and on edge.

“Tomorrow morning”

He takes a swig from his beer. There’s nothing more to say, not really. Everything that happens now is just aftermath; you might as well have already left.

“I’m nervous” you admit, biting your lip, trying hard not to et out the tears you’ve been holding in for days now; embarrassed that your voice trembles on the last word.

His head snaps up to look at you. Pushing off the counter he takes a step forward, placing himself in between your legs.

“Hey” he says, with a voice a low and gentle as a whisper, his hand cupping your cheek. You look up at him; long dark eyelashes framing his beautiful brown eyes, his thin lips slightly parted and across his nose freckles are spread out, the result from a summer spent in the sun. His calloused hand strokes your cheek. “You’re going to take them by storm, Pebbles”.

You smile, despite your fluttering heart. He hasn’t called you Pebbles for a long time. It had been his nickname for you when you first became friends, the reason behind it long forgotten. He was the only one to ever call you it, and the name had lingered long into your late teenage years.

“You took me by storm,” he admits.

You blink up at him through wet eyelashes. Your family had moved to the town when you were ten years old. This was the kind of small town that strangers seldom came to and inhabitants rarely left; and so the new addition to the small local school had everyone talking. You had felt like an astronaut shuffled into space on your first day, trying to find gravity in the unfamiliar school corridors. You had felt the pull of gravity in form of the brown-eyed boy sitting next to you in english class. He had given you a warm smile as you sat down next to him. He had made you his friend, listened to you and confided in you; had made you laugh until your stomach ached. You found further gravity in his home; surrounded by his family and their endless squabbles and laughter, sitting next to Tom at the dinner table.

It hadn’t taken long before you and Tom were an inseparable item; your names always linked to one another in the mouths of others.

“You’ve worked so hard for this scholarship” he says, and the corners of his mouth tugs up into a smile, “I mean, I’m pretty certain you’re the only reason I even finished school”.

You had helped him write most of his essays at school. He’d struggled with reading a lot and found the assigned novels difficult. There were evenings where you’d spend hours laying on the bed; twisting the phone cord between your fingers, as you read the books out loud for him.

Sometimes, in order to be left alone from his parents and younger brothers, he’d walk down to the end of the street and to the payphone there, where he’d spend all his pennies listening to you reading. You had talked and talked until your voice got hoarse; until he ran out of pennies. Yet when he hung up you always felt a tug of longing in your chest, knowing you wouldn’t be able to see him until the next day in school.

“Well, I heard you’re doing pretty good as a carpenter” you say, smiling up at him. “I always knew you’d be good with your hands”.

As soon as you’ve said it you can feel your face heat up. You had heard the rumours at school; Tom Holland is a stellar fuck. Once, while you were in the bathroom stall, you had heard a gang of girls discuss it as they reapplied their lipgloss in the mirror. One of them told the story of her one night stand with Tom, how he had made her come several times over with his hands and mouth; how he’d fucked her so long and so good. You had stood in the stall, your heart in your throat; feeling sick to your stomach, but unable to stop listening.

There were girls that reached out to you in school, knowing you were Tom’s closest friend, and asked you in hushed but awed voices if it was true. If he really that good in bed.

He looks you dead in the eye, an unusual seriousness to his warm eyes. He knows what you’re thinking, knows what thoughts have made your cheeks flush with colour. Letting go of your cheek he places his arms on either side of you on the counter; caging you in.

“There’s never been anyone but you, Pebbles. Not really.” His tone is heavy with meaning and you feel light-headed; both oddly detached from your own body and painfully aware of the closeness of his. Your heart is beating hard in your chest.

This is a line you’ve never crossed before.

“I know I’m ruining everything by saying this, but you’re leaving tomorrow and I’ve been walking around with this secret lodged in my chest like a bullet since i was ten years old; I love you, Pebbles. I’ve always have”.

You should speak. You should tell him that you’ve known for a long time how he’s felt. That it’s been evident in the way his eyes keep lingering on your legs, in the way his arm usually finds its way to rest around your waist. In the way he’s always been there for you. You should tell him that you understand why he hasn’t been able to voice his feelings for you; because you haven’t done it either. Too scared of losing him. But your breath has caught in your throat and all you can focus on is those caramel eyes on you, and how hard your heart is beating in your chest.

“I love you too” you say, voice hardly louder than a whisper. You swear there was music coming from the boom box but all you can hear is the blood rushing through your body.

He kisses you.

He takes your mouth slowly, kissing you thoroughly until you can’t think straight; can’t remember any other kiss than his. Then his lips move over yours with more fervour; more urgency, one hand around your throat and the other tangled in your hair. He kisses you until you're both moaning and gasping for more.

This is it. You’ve crossed the invisible line between friends and lovers; and there is no return, no going back from here. When you leave tomorrow you will leave knowing what his mouth feels like pressed against your.

You dig your hands into his soft hair, runs them both up his chest, realising that this is what your hands were made for. He lifts you off the counter and you wrap your legs around his waist. He moves you both across the caravan and into the bedroom. It’s baking hot in there and you can already feel sweat forming at the low end of your back. The room, just big enough for a bed to fit, is lit up with sunlight. His bed is a mess of rumpled white sheets and the walls are the same cherry wood colour as the rest of the caravan.

You kiss and lick his jaw, his neck, his throat; anywhere you can reach you stroke him. You tug at his hair, kiss his soft lips, and nib at his ear. It’s like the gates have been opened, because even though his arm has always been a comforting presence around your waist; and even though you’ve slept in the same bed more times than you can count, his body curled up next to yours, forming himself like a question mark around your body; he’s never been yours to touch before. Not like this.

His breathing is accelerated, his chest rising and falling in rapid speed, and so is yours. There’s a heat to his eyes that tells you he’s just as turned on as you are. You pull at his shirt before he’s even laid you down on the bed; impatiently craving all his warm, suntanned skin pressed against yours. It’s an almost feverish frenzy, and in the back of your mind you know that you should take this slow. You don’t want this to end too soon, because this might be all you get. But the sun hasn’t even set yet and through the old white-washed curtains you helped put up and light shines through, bathing you both sunshine.

Outside the waves keep crashing against the shore and in the kitchen his boombox keeps playing songs you’ve heard a million times before. It is like it always has been at Tom’s, except that for laying on his sofa and talking he’s removing your clothes; kissing his way down your body. Wet, opened mouth kisses that leave a trail of heat in its wake that have you bucking your hips up for more. His hands are everywhere, exploring your legs. He’s looking at your skin with wide-eyes adoration. With his body in between your wide spread legs he kisses the soft inside of your thighs.

“So soft” he groans against your skin, “and so sweet”.

You feel overheated and breathless; aching all over from wanting him. Perched up on your elbows you observe him; his dark hair brushing against the low of your stomach as he kisses the tender skin of your hip bone. He bares his teeth and bites the sensitive flesh.

His hand cups your cunt. You’re wet and aching and as you presses his thumb to your clit, gently but steadily moving up and down, you feel like you’re going to combust. His strokes are soft at first, before speeding up, making you moan wantonly, spreading your legs wider for him.

“Glad you like that,” he says, a satisfied smile spreading on his face. “Do my fingers feel good on you, darling?”

All you can do is moan in response, arching and moving your hips up to meet his hand. His movements are fast and slippery and it doesn’t take long until your close, so close, so close; on the brink of tipping over and then -

A sharp slap on your pussy, leaving a stinging bite, and it is like the world splits into two.

“God” you moan, voice hoarse. You’re shuddering all over; moanes falling freely from your lips.

He looks up at you from his position in between your legs, his dark eyes sparkling. He kisses the soft inside of your thighs again. “You have any idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you here?” he asks. “I bet you do, torturing me for fun in those short jeans shorts”. He spanks your pussy again and you couldn’t have stopped the moan falling from your lips even if you tried. “How long I’ve wanted to taste you here?”. And he places a hot kiss on your wet slit. You can feel his soft hair pressed against your thighs; his warm breath against your skin.

His lips part and he covers you with his mouth, his tongue moving over your opening; touching you, stroking you, tasting you. A guttural moan leaves him. He looks up at you through tassels of hair, caramel eyes glued to your face.

You fall back against the mattress, “more” you demand, in a voice that sounds a lot like begging. “Please, more”.

It is as if he’s been unleashed. You have never felt anything like it, but he laps you up, tastes you; his fingers moving inside you; pressing against the place that has you seeing stars. You can’t even look at him now, you’re eyes shut; too overwhelmed by the stimulation. Both aching for more but not sure if your body can handle that kind of pleasure. Your thighs are shaking, and something in your stomach grows tighter and tighter by each flick of his tongue against your clit.

“I’m coming” you cry out breathlessly “fuck I’m coming”

And you do. Hard. He keeps kissing and touching you through it; both grounding you and dragging out the intense sensation.

His hands, now familiar with your thighs, make their way up to the soft swell of your breasts, as you struggle to regain your breath. He’s cupping them in his hands, pinching your nipples in between his fingers, kissing them with ferveor. Hungry hands move over your breasts, your stomach, your face; cupping it so that he can kiss you with the sort of yearning that comes from years of unanswered desire.

Your hands move over his body as well, moving over his abdomen chest and arms, defined from long hours of hard work. You kiss his throat and collarbones, kissing at the skin; licking, sucking and biting until you hear guttural moans coming from his throat. His lips are slightly parted, and his glossy dark eyes are fixed on your face; his fingers loosely tangled in your hair.

He presses you down onto the mattress again, until he’s face to face; his arms on each side of your face, holding himself over you.

“You sure?” he asks, voice hoarse, panting slightly.

“I want this” you answer him, voice low but clear, “I really, really want this Tom”

He smiles, breathing out the breath he’d been holding and moves away from you, reaching for the side of his bed and to take out a condom from the drawer.

He places a quick kiss to your lips, your cheek, your belly button, before he sits up. He removes his underwear and you can feel your face heat up again. Because this is Tom, your Tom, whom you’ve been in love with for half your life. But being with him, both naked as the day you were born, feels right. You know everything about this man, all his preferences and secrets; his favourite movie and how he likes his food and why he skipped class every day for a month in year nine. And he knows everything about you. It feels right that he should know this as well; know each curve of your body and the way you like to be kissed and what has you moaning and begging for more.

He unwraps the foil package and puts the condom on with firm fingers. Leaning over you again he lines up against your opening. His eyes glossy with lust, damp hair falling over his face; his mouth swollen and wet from kissing you.

Then with a sharp thrust and a groan he’s inside you.

All coherent thoughts go out the window as he starts moving in and out of you. The only thing that exists is his strong, sweaty body above you, moving in and out of you with slow, deep thrusts. He’s so hard where you are soft and you can’t stop touching him, dragging your fingers over his back, pulling at his hair, kissing his arms. It’s like the wires in your brain have crossed, sending out sparks of pure pleasure in your body.

He hits a particularly tender spot inside you and the groan that leaves you is almost animalistic.

Tom nearly halters in his pace, before collecting himself again. “Fuck” he moans out, kissing your neck. His movements become more frenzied and you roll your hips under him, meeting his movements; trying to get him deeper inside you.

He pushes himself up onto his hands, pulls back slightly; and pushes in. Starting to really fuck you.

You can’t stop looking up at him; naked body damp with sweat, muscles moving as he works; arms flexed and cheeks flushed. His eyes are closed pleasure now. Your hands are on his hips helping him set the pace as he fucks into you with fast, hard thrusts. Without warning you clutch around him in pleasure and he groans loudly.

“How the fuck does your cunt feel better than it tastes?” he asks, panting for air. “

He presses a hand over your heart, letting it rest there. You wonder if he can feel it pounding for him. You feel like you’re dissolving into a thousand tiny pieces as you come around him with a choked scream.

He’s so close and you can practically feel it; aching for him to have it. You want him to come; in you, on you, over you.

And then he does, his brows furrows; like the pleasure is so intense it hurts him. The sounds he makes when he comes are guttural; almost whimpering.

As he falls down on the bed beside you he pulls you close, has you pressed against his body, an arm firmly wrapped around you. The sun has set now, but the ocean waves still crash onto the shore, the sound of it the only thing to fill the silence part from your laboured breathing; the music having gone quiet in the other room.

Neither one of you say anything. You knew the end to this when he kissed you. You’ve regretted nothing that has happened here, and you know that he doesn’t either; but tomorrow you are leaving to drive all the way across the country and he cannot follow. You don’t know what will happen now, and he doesn't have the answer to that either. And so you just let him hold you; wishing with all your might that you could stop the morning from coming.

***

Please let me know your thoughts, genuinely don’t know what to make of this one.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic

157 notes · View notes

stargazing-dreamer-girl · 4 years ago

Text

Windows

Requested by anon: “Can you do a Reggie Peters x gender neutral reader with prompt 103?”

Warnings: yelling, verbal fighting (I don’t know if it’s necessary to tag that, but just to be sure)

Pairing: Reggie Peters x Patterson!reader

WC: 1.4k

Summary: Your brother, Luke, and your mom are fighting once again, so you go over to your boyfriend’s house. When Luke goes to pick up his friend for band practice the next morning he doesn’t expect you to be there as well.

It was never supposed to be a secret. When you had first started going out with Reggie, you didn’t tell anyone because you didn’t want your brother or the other band members to get involved. You wanted to see if it would work out without their intervention. And now it’s been two months and you were ready to reveal it to them but could never find the right moment. At this point you weren’t looking forward to telling your brother. You usually didn’t keep secrets from each other and you didn’t want to hurt him. He fought with your mother more and more, so you didn’t want to add on to that.

You were lying on your bed when it started again, the yelling. The raised voices were slightly muffled by the walls, but you could still make out all the words. Once again it was because of the band, because of his dream. Your mother didn’t understand and didn’t seem to believe in it. It was always the same. They would talk first, then they would yell at each other until one of them would run out but you weren’t about to wait and listen for that to happen. You got up from your bed, grabbed a pair of shoes and opened your window. It was no problem to climb out of it with your bedroom being on the first floor.

The night was lit by the full moon and the stars twinkling in the cloudless sky. Nobody was out at this time apart from the occasional car that passed you on your way to Reggie’s house. It was quiet, eerily so after the screaming match between Luke and your mother. When you got there the house was shrouded in darkness. The crashing of the waves in the background and the smell of the sea already calmed you. You walked around the house hoping to see Reggie’s room still illuminated. When you saw the lit-up square of his bedroom window you smiled. You picked up some small rocks that were lying around and threw one up. You missed. The stone hit the wall next to his window and fell back down to the ground making a barely audible sound. The next one didn’t miss its target, clanking against the window. You waited and dropped the other stones when his face appeared in the window. His eyes searched the garden for a moment before they landed on you. You lifted your hand to give him a little wave.

He opened his window and leaned out of it. “What are you doing here?”, he whisper-shouted, happy to see you even though it was the middle of the night.

“Mom and Luke fought again. Can I come in?” He nodded and told you to come to the front door again.

You didn’t have to wait on the front porch for long before the door opened and Reggie invited you into the house. “My parents are already asleep,” he told you in a hushed voice before he gestured for you to go ahead to his room. You let yourself fall onto his bed letting out a deep sigh. Reggie watched you from his spot in the doorway, equal parts amused at your display and worried about the reason why you were at his house. He followed after you, closing the door after him, and lay down next to you on the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Not really.” You looked over at him. “Can I sleep here tonight though?”

“Of course.” He got up with a groan and walked over to his closet. After some shifting through his clothes he threw a shirt and shorts at you to change into.

You got changed before crawling under the covers next to Reggie. You were lying on your back staring up at the dark ceiling. “Thank you, Reggie,” you broke the silence that had filled the room.

“What for?”, he asked.

“Well, for letting me sleep here, first of all.” You shifted to lie on your side, looking at Reggie now. “And for being with me. You make me happy,” you admitted, placing your hand on his which was resting on his chest. Unbeknownst to you, because of the darkness of the room, his cheeks flushed and he tried hard to suppress the wide grin that was threatening to show on his face.

“You make me happy too.” He lifted his body to hover over your reclined form and kissed you. It was a sweet kiss, your lips moving against each other. You smiled at him when he moved back and pulled you into his side. You rested your head on his chest and fell asleep to the beating of his heart.

The next morning you were harshly woken up by the door being thrown open. The sound of it meeting the wall had you sitting up staring at the person standing in the doorway. Luke’s breath was heavy. He was in the middle of a rant about Reggie missing band practice when his eyes fell on you. The words left him as he took in your appearance, clad in Reggie’s shirt. “It isn’t what it looks like!” He tried to save the situation, but was at a loss of how he could explain it instead. “Okay… Maybe it is…” he finally resigned after Luke urged him to keep going.

“Let’s talk,” you said getting out of the bed and pulling your brother out of the room with you, so that Reggie could collect his thoughts and get dressed. You walked down the stairs, past Reggie’s parents who you wished a good morning, and out to the front porch where you finally let go of Luke’s arm. “So, Reggie and I are dating, but I guess you gathered that.”

“I did. But how? And how long is that going on?”

“Well, we got along well the times he was over to meet you, so we went on a date and now here we are, I guess. That was, like, two months ago.” You shrugged, but smiled thinking back to your first date.

“And why didn’t you tell me? I mean, he is my friend. I wouldn’t have had anything against it.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need your approval on whoever I’m seeing, but I didn’t tell you because we thought it would be best to start out without you guys knowing and maybe interfering or anything, I don’t know. And then it had been going on for a month and we realized that we really liked each other and it wouldn’t change if you knew but I never found the right moment to tell you. You were always either busy with the band or fighting with mom, so I just kept not telling you. But now you know. Even though I would’ve preferred you finding out a different way.”

“Look, I’m sorry. You seem to get caught up in the middle of it whenever mom and I fight and I’m so, so sorry that happens.” He pulls you into his side, the two of you looking out at the ocean and the few people already going about their day. “And you and Reggie, that’s great, but, please, keep your hands to yourselves when I’m around.” He joked. You fought your way out of his embrace to hit his shoulder but laughed all the while. “Now, go tell your boyfriend he needs to get ready for band practice. If he’s any later, I won’t be the only one coming after his ass.”

“Right. He’ll be there soon. Bye, Luke.” You left him standing there and made your way back into the house and up the stairs.

“How’d it go?”, asked Reggie as soon as you stepped into his room.

“It was fine. You need to go to practice though or Luke – and I quote – ‘won’t be the only one coming after your ass’.” It brought a smile to Reggie’s face. He was already dressed and basically ready to go, but he waited until you changed into your pants from yesterday and another one of his shirts.

“Are you coming to practice with me?” He wanted to know.

You shook your head. “No, I should go home and tell my mom I wasn’t kidnapped or anything. But I’ll see after, ok?” He nodded in approval. Before you parted ways, you pulled him into one last kiss, whispering your goodbye against his lips.

160 notes · View notes

nastyburger · 5 years ago

Photo

its mourner time

before the accident, sam, tucker, and danny were in a band called “Dead Cat and the Haunted”! tucker played bass, danny played drums, and sam was vocalist and guitar (tucker could also play piano on the side and did sound mixing). the band had been officially around for about a year and a half, but the dream of starting one has certainly existed between the trio for years beforehand.

the band’s genre was basically alt rock. sam and tucker adopted the punk goth look for the band but ended up liking the image enough to go full time with it! danny himself never quite adopted this, but still gets their own lighter makeover for shows (usually just the simple black shirt and paint on his cheeks really). the band wasnt popular per say, but they definitely had a couple of hits in niche circles.

danny usually provided a lot of fenton tech for performances (a failed “ghost smoker” that makes a pretty good fog machine, some homemade laser lights made from spare parts, ect), so the ghost portal was a project of interest when it was completed (but unable to work). similar to canon, sam persuades danny to check the portal out. with danny being the robotics nerd that he was and growing up with this sort of ghost tech all around them, having danny go in to find the problem seemed like the natural thing to do, sam though nothing of it when she made the suggestion.

danny was a bit nervous to venture in alone though, so they ask sam to go in with them which she agrees to do. tucker decides to stay behind during all this. they both put on their hazmat suits and went into the portal. danny accidentally hits the switch as usual and........fully dies from the electrocution.

for one reason or another, the variables were just not lined up for danny this time around and he doesnt make it out of the portal in any form of consciousness. not alive, not a ghost, not half, just dead. sam, on the other hand, did gain ghost powers but the guilt of what happened to danny eats her alive.

she adopts this “i couldnt save my friend so i save everyone else” philosophy and begins to have a somewhat strained relationship with tucker. she starts to push him away both out of guilt and a “its safer this way” mentality. the first couple months following danny’s death was a difficult time for everyone and sam left herself to figure out most of this ghost stuff on her own.

tucker was relentless though and did everything he could to support sam and stick by her side despite her efforts to keep him away. after a particularly nasty scourge with a ghost that leads to tucker saving sam, she finally relents and allows tucker back into her life. things are still a little difficult between them, but they’re slowly getting better.

the fentons believe that danny went into the portal alone. the little fact that sam was in there with them was quietly left out of the story and thats all jack and maddie really knew about the incident. they never pried anymore information from the kids still mourning (haha funny joke) and traumatized. jazz, on the other hand, was furious. she knew they were with danny was right to suspect some sort of persuasion happened to get him to go into the portal. sam admits that she was the one to tell them to go in out of guilt, she and jazz don’t talk to each other for a long time.

the ember “episode” plays out differently with mourner and far later in her ghost career, it was a rather important point in her healing process. the fight against ember ends up taking place as a “battle of the bands” type deal, the idea was to essentially steal the spotlight and attention off of her. the idea of playing as a band was obviously a sore spot for sam and tucker, and the lack of a drummer was a problem on its own. there was someone they could ask, but neither of them really liked the idea.

stuff happens, tensions rise, until finally sam and tucker do what they need to do: they ask jazz to play drums for them. jazz was able to play drums as well, and often subbed in for danny while he was alive from time to time. after the incident, the idea of jazz replacing danny permanently popped up but was quickly shut down. it was just too soon at the time, so asking jazz to play now was a significant gesture of moving on. they play as a band, beat the ghost, and sam and jazz also mend their relationship.

after the ember incident, this was also the point where sam tells jazz about her ghost powers and the full story of what happened that day, she later does the same for jack and maddie. she felt she owed them the truth, and while jazz has finally forgiven sam, jack and mads have a harder time. they dont hate or hold the incident against her, they just find it hard to grapple with. sam does her best to stay distant from the parents for their sake.

as of now, sam, tucker, and jazz play together as “The Mourners”. jazz is now also part of the team and helps with sam’s ghost fighting, the three become more close knit with both the band and the hunting.

are sam and tucker dating in this au? the answer to that is.........its complicated. they definitely do like each other, even before the incident, but its hard to think about dating when your best friend died. they’ll get there eventually, but itll be a long while until then.

#rejected band name: danny killer and the suspects haha im sorry #danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #dannyverse au #phantomverse #ghost draws #ghost post #sam mourner

2K notes · View notes

nnightskiess · 4 years ago

Text

‧₊° 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊° 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐲/𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Toni grabbed another handful of pebbles from the beach and played with them in her hands before throwing one out into the ocean every few steps. The sun was on full blast and started to hurt her forehead and thus she was on her way to the little cave that would shield her from the sun — the one she’d found on another stroll. She hadn’t run off this time, Dot had actually told everyone to wait until the sun was less vicious before continuing their work. Toni hadn’t felt like joining the others and apparently neither had Y/N, who had disappeared the moment Dot told them to take a break.

God knows what Y/N was up to now that she had some free time. What would anyone even do on an abandoned island? No matter how hard Toni had tried, Y/N was a hard one to read. She wasn’t as open as the others and kept to herself most of the time, but never disrespected anyone, or treated anyone badly, for that matter. She helped out whenever needed and seemed particularly interested in staying close to Toni, no matter the situation. She hadn’t shied away or looked at her differently when Toni had had one of her anger outbursts and that, in combination with her silent glances and soft smiles, had somehow reeled Toni in. The next opportunity that would arise, Toni would for sure try and start a real conversation with the girl. So far, they had only exchanged ‘thank you’s and ‘can you help me with this’s.

Toni threw the last pebble as far away as she could, watching until the ripple had disappeared. If only their problems on the island, and in the real world, would fade away just as smoothly. She sighed and threw her head back, trying to tame the curly baby hairs on her head and simultaneously hold a hand to her blistering forehead. This heat was no joke.

She wrinkled her nose and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to look at where the sun stood right now. Probably three more hours before it would take away some of its heat.

Toni reached the small beach and sat down on one of the rocks after splashing some seawater in her face and neck. She took off her damp shoes and socks and buried her feet in the sand. Now that she was finally alone, her thoughts caught up with her and she suddenly realised how Marty had slowly started to slip away. Their friendship had never faltered before, so why would a stupid island suddenly be able to break them apart? If she didn’t have Marty, she would have no one. Sure, the others were nice, but if it weren’t for the need to work together to survive, she would be able to do without them. If she had Marty by her side, she’d be fine with whatever challenge the world would throw at her. Then there was Y/N, who seemed to be someone Toni needed around at all times, too. But if it hadn’t been for Y/N sticking around, would Toni have ever found that out? Probably, yes. Because even though Y/N was quiet most of the times, Toni always caught her eyes slipping and landing on the girl. She always looked at Y/N first when she made a joke, a suggestion or when she did something wrong— ready to see the judgement or disappointment, only for it to never show on Y/N’s face. It brought her a certain form of calmness she needed. Y/N’s smile would not only tell Toni that whatever had happened with the situation at hand would work itself out, but it would also soothe the many burns and scars Toni had gathered over the years.

Toni sat down on the damp sand and started to make random shapes in the sand with her hands, feeling more relaxed as she let her mind go blank. Moments like these were a necessity for her, moments where she could just walk away for a while and be by herself to not get riled up by anything or anyone else. But her mind couldn’t completely shut down this time, as it thought of Y/N. Toni was thinking of what to ask her. She’d been so quiet all this time, how was she supposed to know what topic to bring up? Y/N had never mentioned a favourite band or what she liked to do in her free time. Though Toni would never admit it out loud, this made her terrified to talk to the girl. What if she asked exactly that what would upset Y/N? Something that would spark up a bad memory, especially now that they all needed some more positivity and hope? She couldn’t mess up her first shot of a real conversation with the girl, she was too careful to scare away the only other person who seemed unfazed by her anger issues.

She let out a deep sigh, put on her shoes again after dusting off the sand and decided to walk a bit further— she needed a change of scenery to get it out of her head. However, Toni didn’t get far when her breath hitched at seeing the sight in front of her. She saw Y/N, at least she thought it was Y/N, seeing as she was wearing the same clothes, floating in the ocean a few meters off the coast, face down. Toni’s heart sank to her stomach and she was sure her sunburned face was as white as a ghost right now.

“Y/N!”

She sprinted into the ocean as fast as she could, though her shoes sunk into the sand with every step. The girl still face down, floating around. Toni swam the last part and closed their distance, immediately grabbing the girl’s upper body to try and turn her around— to let her breathe. She had expected Y/N to stay unconscious, having to carry her out the water, but the girl gasped loudly and moved her arms and legs around frantically, frightened by the surprise. Toni’s eyes widened as she let go immediately, unsure of what the hell was happening.

Y/N removed the pink goggles on her face and looked at Toni with the same wide eyes,

“Toni?!”

“Are you okay?!”

The two had now drifted more to shore, where they could stand just on their tippy toes.

“What’s wrong?”

Toni furrowed her eyebrows, “What’s wrong? I thought you had fucking died!” Her voice cracked as she raised it.

“O-Oh...” Y/N looked down for a split second, enough to make Toni panic she had scared her off, too. “I was just trying to stay still to look at the fish...”

Toni’s frown disappeared and she smiled softly at the girl, realising there was nothing to be worried about, “You scared the living hell out of me, fuck you.” She let out a breathy chuckle.

Y/N presented her with an apologetic smile and offered Toni her hand to help her out of the water.

“Sorry... Thanks for trying to save me...”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m glad you had fun, though.” She tilted her head to get a better look at the girl.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, “Well, up until you scared me, I did. I thought you were some sea creature or something.”

“Yeah, for good reason.” Toni smiled, “I could’ve been. Please be careful next time, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“So...” Toni chuckled softly, readjusting her wet shirt, partly also because she suddenly became too nervous to say something else and decided to let Y/N take the lead, hoping she could get away with messing with her shirt a tad longer. She crossed her fingers the girl would say something that Toni knew a thing or two about.

Y/N gave Toni a sheepish smile when they locked eyes and looked back at the sea for a split second, “You know, I used to go snorkeling with my parents when we went to Egypt once. In the Red Sea, have you heard of it?”

Toni hesitantly shook her head, cursing at herself for not paying enough attention in class or she might’ve been able to talk along.

“Should I tell you a story about it?”

The girl nodded softly as she followed Y/N’s lead and sat down next to her in the sand.

“Well, I used to be really scared of the sea— in ways I still am, especially in deep waters, but this depth is just fine— so my mom signed me up for a snorkeling tour with a few other tourists.” Y/N snorted and shook her head at the memory, “It was a nightmare.”

Toni listened closely, surprised by the new, more open Y/N that was unfolding right in front of her eyes. She had already said more than the past few days combined.

“I was too scared to go any further when the water reached my waist and I just waddled around through the water a bit, looking ridiculous with my goggles on. Mind you, I was nine... or something...”

Toni laughed softly at the visualisation she made in her head of a little Y/N pouting in the water.

“When my mom found out I had spent the hour doing nothing while she’d paid a good amount of money for it, I got scolded so badly.” Y/N let out a soft giggle but Toni furrowed her eyebrows. Why would anyone scold a girl who was just scared? Even worse, why would her mom even sign her up if she knew she was afraid— it seemed like pure torture.

“She made me do it again a few years later and I must say, if it hadn’t been for the gorgeous instructor I was trying to impress, I’m sure I wouldn’t have gone any further than my waist either.” Toni smiled when Y/N tried to see her reaction. “And in the end, it wasn’t that bad at all.”

Toni cleared her throat, wanting to listen to her talk longer, “What did it look like? Underwater, I mean. With the... fish?”

“The water was so clear. There were a ton of different fish, tiny ones and larger ones, though I still tried to stay away from those.” She laughed. “Some had plain colours and others were a bright yellow or red. And so many different type of corals.”

Y/N’s voice died down, and she looked at her lap, thinking of the distant memory that seemed so far away now, and not only because of the years that had passed. Toni noticed the change in character immediately and bumped the girl’s shoulder in a playful manner, “Did you find that here too before I tried to save you?”

“No.” Y/N looked at her, “Not even close.” She suddenly seemed to realise how close the two of them were sitting and refused to look into Toni’s eyes, growing very conscious and nervous. “But I just wanted to clear my head and feel like I was in Egypt for a moment, not in this terrible nightmare.”

“Yeah, I get that...” Toni mumbled in response. “I was actually... trying to do the same thing, you know? Take a walk...”

“Did it work?”

“Not really.”

Y/N hummed in reply and stared out at the horizon, hoping to see a lifeboat sail their way. But the horizon was empty and dull. The sound of the birds, trees and waves replaced their words as both girls sat in each other’s company. Toni looked at Y/N’s side profile for a few seconds, debating what to do or say next.

“You know, I like that we talked.” She decided on saying.

“Really?”

Toni nodded sincerely.

“I talked way too much, you barely said anything.”

“Didn’t even notice.” She shrugged, “I liked listening to you.”

“To my pathetic, poetic story about Egyptian fish?” Y/N rose an eyebrow and challenged the girl. Toni smiled slightly but remained honest, “Yeah. It distracted me from all the other shit for a while. So, thanks.”

Y/N smiled shyly, “Anytime.”

A few seconds passed before Toni opened her mouth again, “You’re always so quiet. Why’s that?”

Toni’s blunt question took Y/N off guard, though she did her best to quickly form an honest reply.

“I just... I don’t... I never had a great experience with friends. Better to not have them than get left out or hurt, right? Especially when we’re already in this... weird environment.” She decided to not brush things under the carpet.

“I suppose...” Toni shrugged nonchalantly, she decided against asking further. Besides, she was kind of biased, seeing as she often tended to choose to be alone, too. Then again, why did she stick with Toni when she didn’t want to have any friends? The thoughts made her head hurt and thus she started to absentmindedly play with the sand.

“I’ve been on my own for years, I reckon I’ll survive another few days. Don’t you think?”

“You don’t have to be, you know.” Toni looked up and squinted her eyes when the sun blinded her. Y/N smiled genuinely, realising what she meant.

“Thanks, Toni.”

They lingered for a moment in a comfortable silence.

“So, um...” Toni started, bringing her hands up to comb through her hair, “Should we head back?”

Y/N accepted Toni’s help to stand up and smiled softy, nodding in return. The two talked and laughed softly as they walked back to camp, both girls happy that they probably had just gotten a new shoulder to lean on.

#toni shalifoe #toni shalifoe imagine #toni shalifoe x reader #toni shalifoe one shot #the wilds #the wilds imagine #the wilds imagines #toni shalifoe imagines

273 notes · View notes

love-takes-work · 4 years ago

Text

Steven Universe: End of an Era: Outline & Review

I wrote this review in October but never got around to posting it here

Steven Universe: End of an Era is far more than an art book–it’s also a collection of behind-the-scenes material, stories about the experience of working on the show, planning documents and associated background info, and both older versions of developed concepts AND concepts that never made it into the show. It's a huge fusion of all those elements, and it's definitely an experience!

Some low-quality images are included with my review just to give you an idea of what’s there--it’s not a good substitute for getting your own copy, but here’s a tour!

Like the previous concept art book, Art and Origins, I'll be giving you a description of the structure and overview, while also collecting notable information for fans. Obviously just about everything is "notable" once again, but I'll aim for unique insight or perspective on the main source material, keeping the screaming about everything new to a minimum so you can also enjoy something for yourself if you pick it up. My low-quality photos should prevent people from feeling like I'm reproducing the book in any capacity. Please grab one while you can and have your own experience!

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

OVERVIEW

The book is titled "End of an Era" for a couple reasons--obviously because it is released after the show has wrapped, but also because Gem history recently ended its "Era 2" and began Era 3--an age of prosperity and peace. The author--the person in charge of adapting all of this information into this slick, readable package--is Chris McDonnell, whose work was previously applied on the Art and Origins book.

The foreword is by N.K. Jemisin, a well-known science fiction author who's a huge fan of the show (and wrote a really excellent series that also has a weird geological connection, by the way).

And the cover, like its predecessor, is shiny and decorated with a beach scene featuring minimalistic characters--this time it's the Gems at night in front of the Temple, and on the back cover is a big pink leg ship in a cross-legged pose.

The interior covers are decorated with tons of amazing sketches of Steven and Connie on the front, and a bunch of Gem sketches on the back. Every interior page that most would leave blank is highlighted with some kind of sketch art or character exercise--it's so much to look at, so much to absorb.

The book is dedicated "For Eddie."

Its organization is different from the previous book in that it shares applicable work in chunks associated with groups of episodes rather than pertaining to different aspects of building the show.

FOREWORD

N.K. Jemisin gives us such a great introduction to the book--apparently understanding very well that the audience of this book is full of animation enthusiasts and adult fans more than it is full of kids, and explaining that bewildering journey some adults had from blowing this show off as a silly kid thing to falling in love with it hard and fast.

The important thing, Jemisin says, is being able to trust a storyteller with your heart. And it was clear to her that Rebecca Sugar knew what she was talking about and was saying important things about identity and the radical power that comes with accepting it and demanding respect.

Important also is how we handle heroes and who gets to be one in fantasy. That's part of the reason Steven Universe speaks to so many--because we see ourselves here, and know stories can be about us. Acknowledging the power we all have to MAKE THINGS BETTER with what we fight for is so important--especially if we're going to speaking to the next generation about it.

Highlighting Rose Quartz as a "born leader" who failed and Steven as a relatable scamp who did what she couldn't, Jemisin asserts that we can save the world.

1. END OF AN ERA

We start with an appeal to the audience to think about identity and the formative parts of our childhood--and how different it is if who you are and who you become is restricted, mocked, erased, or Not Allowed. Most people, if not ALL people, can relate to this, but for those of us with a special relationship with Steven Universe because of queer identity, this hits hard.

But it doesn't have to be anything grand to be something we respect--this show's authenticity comes largely from how personal everything is, drawn from real-life experiences and incidental truths from each artist's perspective, leaning hard on childhood and formative experiences.

Rebecca Sugar offers some interview bits to discuss writing philosophy and why "writing female characters" was difficult for a nonbinary person who'd been socialized as a girl and a woman. Rebecca has spoken before about how frustrating it is that marketing for cartoons was SO gendered when she was growing up (and to some extent still is).

The Gems in the story are all "she/her," but on their planet they're defined by their work, not by emotion or relationships (unlike women in our society), so having them be socialized opposite to how she was and be able to claim those emotions through choice and NOT as just an expectation "as women" was revolutionary. Rebecca wants her show to tell all marginalized people that they don't deserve to be in the margins.

Weighing in on other aspects of the show were Ian Jones-Quartey, Joe Johnston, and Miki Brewster. Ian describes feeling like at first doing SU was a thrill ride that meant they'd finally get to do all the cool stuff, but it quickly became a responsibility that he took very seriously--the need to tell a good story now that he'd been given a megaphone.

Promotional art, planning documents, character sketches, and concept art from the lighthearted to the stone serious is included, along with some very cool (sort of famous) timeline charts that track major characters' developments. It's emphasized by Rebecca that the developmental materials ARE NOT CANON (and especially are not MORE canon) compared the final show.

There are concept sketches alongside final art for Aquamarine and Topaz in "Wanted" (with Topaz labeled "Imperial Topaz"), the Zircons in "The Trial," Blue and Yellow Diamond, and the Off Colors (including Pink Lars).

And there's also a spread of "the two sides of Steven's life: Gem Magic and Rock N Roll" featuring Sadie Killer and the Suspects (referred to as "Buck's band")--as well as a cool "Crew Cameos" key and some concepts for short-haired Connie.

And then there's some more "finished" art with stills alongside concepts, including some background art, revision, and really cool "fairytale" art from some of the shadowplay storytelling bits. We get "Lars of the Stars," "Jungle Moon," and "Can't Go Back."

2. THE BEGINNING OF THE END: A SINGLE PALE ROSE

In discussing the huge reveals and Gem mysteries in the show, the pacing is examined, and emphasis is put on the intended "slow burn." One of the most difficult things in the show was to strategize so that every piece that was needed to support another piece in the future was placed properly to seed what it was supposed to.

Some of the ideas they developed were more of a group effort and were fit together collaboratively (like Amethyst's being younger than the other Gems and Jasper being from Earth), while others were intended from the beginning based on Rebecca's vision (the fundamental idea of Pink Diamond's true identity, for instance, as well as Obsidian's design and sword and our Pearl not being Pink's first).

The writing process gets a great deep dive here, including fun tidbits like how the orb in the moon base was inserted by Joe Johnston and they literally had no idea what it was for when they wrote the episode. They repurposed it when they figured out what they needed.

Rebecca credits her detailed timelines for helping keep the order straight, and discusses how other artists are sometimes flabbergasted that a storyboard-driven show can have this much detail and continuity and yet not get wrecked by the free non-scripted boarding process. But Rebecca and the Crew valued that approach and loved the way fresh eyes would handle an idea, making it come back alive, entertaining, vivid.

Several Crew members weigh in on the writing process. Lauren Hecht refers to making lots of incorrect guesses despite being on the inside. Joe Johnston recalled getting briefed on his first day and getting so excited to start working on this massive project.

Miki Brewster remembered being told Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond and being shocked--and also confused about why Ruby and Sapphire would need to be married if they're already basically married. Drew Green talks about being brought in late and getting to watch unaired episodes and a rough of the movie while eating cereal.

Ian Jones-Quartey complains about Pink Diamond's real jester-like form being leaked to the internet through a Hot Topic shirt. Rebecca piggybacks on that and says it was upsetting that the wedding was leaked because of toy fair keychains featuring Ruby and Sapphire in wedding attire. They'd always be worried about leaks, and sometimes Rebecca struggled not to talk about the reality of Pink Diamond before the reveal because she knew it would make so much more sense once the truth was out. And everything associated with Rose makes more sense once you know she's Pink--especially what happened with Bismuth, considering what we know about how Pink Diamond has a habit of treating anyone who no longer serves her interests.

When it comes to visual cues, Rebecca also talks about intentional designs to create a feeling of unity between concepts, like the flower shapes on Pink Diamond's palanquin lining up with the poofs of Steven's hair and the star imagery of the series. Steven Sugar and Mary Nash discuss how the Human Zoo incorporated this imagery, trying to look like Homeworld with a Pink Diamond touch.

Steven Sugar, as a game nerd, liked to throw in video game references from old and modern stuff to feel like he's inserting what he's enjoying and who he is from moment to moment, while Mary Nash, who related to Sadie as a basement-dwelling young person with cult interests, liked to include stuff from MST3K and cult movies. Pearl's hand gestures get a spotlight too--her reflex to cover her mouth when Pink Diamond was being discussed was analyzed here.

A "Top Secret Visual Timeline" from 2016 is included which tells us some Diamond history. It has an earlier version of Pink Pearl's fate and does not include Spinel since the movie hadn't been greenlit. The timeline includes the birth of the Diamonds, the emergence and major story beats for each major character, and some philosophy of the driving force behind each.

We're told that Pink Diamond straightened up, behavior-wise, after she lost her first Pearl, and that Yellow and Blue wanted to give her a planet but White only agreed to it to prove she would fail at managing a colony. Pearl, meanwhile, is so confused to have a Diamond who keeps asking her what she thinks when she doesn't believe she should have opinions.

And when Pink moonlighted as Rose to start conflict, she found herself leading an army to fight Pink's troops--then Yellow's, and eventually Blue's too. Lapis is said to be waiting for the conflict to end on Earth so she can terraform, but she gets trapped instead.

Pearl's love story with Rose is described as "an endless honeymoon" where she's free to love her, while Rose's is more like "I'm now the head of the family and I'm going to give everyone what they never had, so everyone is super special!"

Jasper is described as "adopted" into Yellow's army as the only successful Beta Quartz. And White Diamond knew that Pink Diamond was not dead--she thought she was just running away from home like a brat and would eventually be back.

3. THE HEART OF THE CRYSTAL GEMS

Now we discuss Rose Quartz--the original Pink Diamond. How she was selfish and selfless, never enough and always too much, and how Greg was her first partner who "challenged her" to be an equal. Rebecca describes Rose as being delighted by the idea that both she and Greg reinvented themselves, but when that leads her to want to share her past, Greg isn't interested--he only wants to know who she is now, and doesn't consider the old her to be her.

Rebecca likes Carl Jung's concept of "enantiodromia," which is the idea that extremes lead to their extreme opposite. This is demonstrated in all of the Diamonds. This narrative is interspersed with drawings of Greg and Rose being cute.

But another "heart" of the Crystal Gems is its relationships--particularly, Garnet, the fairy tale romance embodied. More psychological theories are discussed with regard to differentiation in a relationship making the relationship stronger, and how they made sure that happened for Garnet during the appropriate arc. Rebecca has struggled with the idea that she, like Ruby, went straight from a "family" group to a living-with-others situation and never lived by herself. But she also learned that you can in fact develop as a person in the context of a relationship--you don't have to be alone to do it. Ruby learned that too, and chose on her own terms to be with Sapphire.

The wedding made so much sense to Rebecca and the crew that they couldn't imagine a wholesome couple like Ruby and Sapphire not having a wedding episode. They wanted it for years: The wedding concepts always included the tuxedo for Sapphire and the wedding dress for Ruby.

But pushback (often blamed on the conservative standards of the international market) led to negotiations trying to keep Ruby and Sapphire's relationship from being explicit. Rebecca and the Crew were very tired of this double standard, and they were especially irritated by attempts to claim a wedding wouldn't be well received by a core demographic or wouldn't make sense for Steven's character. But other shows had done weddings and Steven had been established to love weddings already.

Rebecca kept adding more elements to the wedding episode to answer all the concerns, but she didn't want to back down from explicit marriage between these characters. They deserved it. And the audience deserved to see this as wholesome, like any other cartoon wedding. Eventually they got their way and were allowed to have the wedding. But the ordered episodes were also coming to a close without promise of more, so Rebecca had to request more episodes to be able to wrap up the storyline!

And of course, there is Steven, the true heart of the team. A very interesting aside discusses Garnet's leadership and how the network pushed the Crewniverse to acknowledge Steven as the leader. This was successfully resisted throughout as well--because Garnet is the leader (unless she's incapacitated, of course). It's fantastic that this concept was preserved because too often a young male chosen one is elevated above people with more experience and knowledge because of that chosen one tradition, so it's really nice to have a show acknowledge that team leadership is more appropriate for an adult.

4. ERA 3

Beginning with a discussion of the Diamonds, this chapter deconstructs the dysfunctional "family" of the Diamonds (who are said to be based on tropes about evil stepmothers and stepsisters), with the thread of dysfunction originating with White Diamond.

Yellow is physical, Blue is emotional, White is judgmental, and Pink is impulsive. Some philosophy on why Pink is naturally manipulative and why she clashes so much with White is offered.

White believes her identity is to be imposed on all because she is the pinnacle of what should be--and therefore, she has the right to make decisions and statements about and on behalf of everyone. But her secret is that she can't do what the others do--act or feel or want. In trying to be everyone, she is no one.

And this becomes very important when she confronts Steven about his identity and turns out to be wrong. The triumph of Steven being totally, fully himself is a beautiful, simple revelation that's described as far more satisfying than the theories about Pink living inside him or Rose returning from his Gem.

Also discussed is Gem architecture. A lot went into this idea, and Steven Sugar weighs in to say he had to think of what it would mean for a world to have buildings but serve no human needs. That's why it's mostly focused on transport and storage. Even the broken planet is meant to indicate a place stripped for its resources, and everything serves a function that is meant to avoid looking like the human equivalents.

And there's another layer, too: a difference between Era 1 and Era 2. Era 2 became more functional to hide Era 1's broken bits, and older Homeworld buildings still have some "ornate and ancient" feel to them. And the fact that props, tools, and even walls and doors could be living was taken from a concept Rebecca thought was horrible from old Busby Berkeley movies, where people were inanimate objects and it was portrayed as lovely. Tom Herpich helped conceptualize these living objects.

Steven dealing with "princess tropes" is discussed here too. The Pebbles (worked on with Pendleton Ward) were sort of his Cinderella's mice, and all the locked-in-a-tower, having supportive tiny friends help you, getting princess clothes made, attending a ball, having to mind your manners stuff was intentionally related to fairy tales.

The point of doing that (besides fun) was to easily invoke the feeling that Steven was being made to be someone he's not, and that he was being treated like THIS is who he really is when it isn't. White Diamond as the "evil stepmother" is discussed with regard to her detailed features and massive scale. They generally didn't put fingernails and eyelashes on characters (especially not to indicate that they were women or girls!), but they decided White would get all of these feminine markers for tradition's sake.

Rebecca also invokes several other references that were included and describes the princess tropes as "chipping away at his integrity" setting him up for the final challenge with White.

There is again tons of concept art: Homeworld architecture, Pebbles, Diamond diagrams, background Jades and Lemon Jade Fusion, Comby, Diamond extraction chambers, and White Diamond.

5. CHANGE YOUR MIND

Now we finally begin to discuss Steven's identity. The "Perfect Steven," discussed in several interviews before this book's release, was an idea back in 2013; the "ultimate Steven," beefed up and shonen-looking, was far from perfect because OUR Steven is perfect, while this alpha hero Steven idea (used in Steven Universe Future) didn't belong being idolized in such a show.

They thought about having Steven fall apart into organic half and Gem half early in the show (during "Giant Woman" after a successful fusion and unfusion, even!), but they didn't try the concept until the last episode. They didn't want the "Pink" Steven to be portrayed as "better" even though he would be more powerful, so they decided he isn't whole without his organic self and he's just as much of a shell as the organic half. They absolutely did not want any ending that required Rose to be inside him or waiting to come back. But the debates were fierce--what DOES it mean to have Rose's Gem?

Ian Jones-Quartey brings in an anecdote about his own family to emphasize some of the immigrant themes that inspired aspects of the show. He had a brother who reinvented himself elsewhere away from family without resolving issues, and all the ramifications of that were explored in the show through Rose Quartz. (He is careful to say he doesn't think his immigrant experience is like being from another planet!) But he did say you can hurt your old family even if they were toxic or didn't know the real you, and you can hurt your new family by hiding your past. The Pizza family of course was also a more direct reference to Ian's Ghanaian family.

In talking about the new Fusions from this episode, Sunstone is largely described by Miki, who also got to board the Sunstone section. Sunstone was described as a cool 1990s character and the evolution just continued into making them a fourth-wall-breaking PSA dispenser. Obsidian is also discussed, with their sword being an early concept. Steven Sugar said they totally knew it would be forged in action. Obsidian being similar to the Temple design is of course another very early detail.

The story of how James Baxter got involved with one of the final scenes (Organic Steven and Pink Steven fusing in front of White Diamond) was shared. His family was fans of the show and Rebecca Sugar took the time to drive to a birthday party for his daughter and give her a drawing. He then owed her a favor, and this was it.

Concept art is again included, this time with sample boards, promo images, a Diamond fight concept, costume design changes for the Gems, new Fusions, the so-called "Mega Diamond" ship conglomerate, some scenes from the White Diamond confrontation, Pink Steven, multiple pages of James Baxter animation, corrupted Gems and their healed selves, and photos from the "Change Your Mind" premiere and some awards. The show has won one design-related Emmy, a Peabody Award, and a GLAAD award.

6. STEVEN UNIVERSE FUTURE

The book doesn't cover the movie because it got its own book, but dives right into Future. Ian Jones-Quartey emphasizes that the movie and Future are separate and different from the original show, which ENDED. After all, after that, Steven has a neck!

Some new names are invoked now: new writers Kate Tsang, Jack Pendarvis, and Taneka Stotts. They were excited to have Steven make HIS OWN mistakes instead of trying to clean up someone else's! Now, instead of doing the usual shonen anime thing and having the final battle be a big physical rumble, Steven has to make peace with himself and take an active role in coping with what all the fighting has done to him and what effect it's had on who he is (and who he wants to be). There is no sudden "I love myself!" answer, either. It's always a process.

Drew Green and Maya Petersen, who came on board as storyboarders officially in Future, also weighed in on writing for a "mature" show, how to deal with Steven being a "moral compass" while being sort of unreliable, and what they learned as Crew that they didn't know as fans. Drew didn't know Garnet never asks questions. Jack didn't realize the show never deviated from Steven's point of view. Taneka was nervous but excited to collaborate. Kate was worried about how established the show was and what to do as a new writer to contribute appropriately.

Maya was on the old Crew but not as a storyboarder, so felt like some of the "old" ideas ended up not being appropriate for the "new" Future in an embarrassing way--and dreaded the idea of dealing with Steven's emotional problems when they were similar to stuff she'd been through. She also was personally behind the idea of Steven wanting to dump his problems by becoming Stevonnie, and got to work with Etienne Guignard on inventing the Pearl creation backstory with Volleyball.

There's some discussion of "depression hobbies," stress, and the show's pacing. And they say Etienne was entertaining at pitches. There's even some discussion of how Greg is taken off a bit of a pedestal because his terrible restrictive life in the suburbs sounded wholesome to Steven and Greg presented it negatively.

And then there is some information about how the Crew felt behind the scenes due to fan reactions and negative press. Ian discusses feeling offended when the Black characters are described as bad examples, as if their cartoonized but realistic-in-context features are automatically caricatures.

Rebecca Sugar felt beaten down by some of these narratives and began to access mental health services, inspiring some of the content of "Mindful Education." A long reflection from Rebecca discusses people's infighting about her show and what she had a responsibility to show or not show in the story. She learned a lot about bullying from Cartoon Network's anti-bullying program and learned that bullies thrive on whatever attention you give them--unless it is made clear to them by a peer group that no one is impressed by their cruel actions. Also, not all negative feedback is bullying. Constructive criticism is different. Self-awareness can help you avoid internalizing what bullies might do or say to you.

Segueing from the discussion of how people are affected by and connect with the show, we then discuss how they chose as a team what should be covered as the show came to a close. They didn't have time to do quite a few stories they wanted time for, like a Rhodonite story, a Lars side story, and Diamond "prehistory" and religion; all of it was put aside for the main arc with Steven.

They thought people would find those stories about Homeworld and Off Color history very interesting, but so much of the show had been about Steven's Gem adventures, so keeping him mostly on Earth seemed appropriate. The acknowledgment of his battle damage, of his trauma, was necessary and real, and helpful in an important way to the core audience.

Oh, and there was some stuff about a cheeseburger tree. Don't ask.

In discussing the "reverse escapism" of the original show (Gem aliens are intrigued by everyday human culture, and realism is necessary), Rebecca says her views have changed on escapism and gets why some people want a soothing feel-better show. She acknowledged also that her own escapist dreams-come-true fulfilled in the show didn't feel like escapism because they were givens to the majority of mainstream culture, but were never guaranteed to marginalized people.

Rebecca ties in her several-times-told story about "Love Like You" and how the middle bit was when she didn't feel she was worth looking up to, and the realizations she had to tie the beginning to the end. Feeling like someone will like you less if they know you more is terrible. So sometimes a show like this can be helpful in telling people that they belong when their fantasies are things like "I want to be loved" and "I want to know I exist."

In Future, Steven has to connect to who he is and love that person--and understand that person enough to finally feel that even if he's not fixing their problems or saving their world right this second, Steven deserves his family's love and support, and they WANT to give it to him.

There's a huge amount of supplemental material in this section so there's no way I could name it all. The charts for Future's timeline are pretty straightforward, though a few episodes like "A Very Special Episode," "Why So Blue," "In Dreams," and "Bismuth Casual" aren't specifically represented and a couple are in a different order ("Prickly Pair" was conceived as happening after "Fragments" and "Homeworld Bound").

Steven feeling like a monster, having intrusive thoughts, having not forgiven the Diamonds, and getting help/moving on--it's all there.

We have keys, color scripts, and boards for the new opening and some various backgrounds and storyboard art from episodes. Model sheets for Shep, Nice Lapis and Mean Lapis, Jasper, Steven Tag Gems, Pink Steven Powers, Monster Steven. New house concepts, Era 3 Homeworld concept art for the Diamond environments, and background art for the Reef.

New Connie and Greg designs. Concepts for Mega Pearl, the Rose Quartzes, Bluebird, and Morganite (who didn't get used). And there are some photos from recording and the conference room. There are even some extras from "Crossover Nexus," the crossover with OK K.O.!--including an unused cut scene that included Ruby and Sapphire fighting. The rest of the book is a bunch of adorable Crewniverse art--extras, blog drawings, promos, and gifts to each other.

NOTABLE

The first timeline chart in the book features a cool sketch of the original Off Colors, which at the time this planning document was drafted included unused Off Colors Flint and Chert.

We knew of their existence already because of an episode of the podcast, but these two unexpectedly appeared as incidental characters in the Steven Universe Future episode "Homeworld Bound," identified only in the credits. Sad to think that instead of banding with the Off Colors, these two were probably shattered for their crime (being Quartzes who don't want to fight) and that's why we see them being repaired in this episode. Later, there's some brainstorming for types of Off Colors and "a Ruby that wants to wear limb enhancers" is mentioned as well.

It looks like there was also originally more juice to the story of tracking down the events of the war culminating in Pink Diamond's assassination.

One of the timelines talks about Steven thinking it makes sense that Pearl can't talk about her involvement because she might have been a double agent, explaining why Rose Quartz always knew what Pink Diamond was doing. It seems like that bit was supposed to be included in Garnet's version of the story she believed in "Your Mother and Mine." Seems like they originally conceived Garnet's story to inspire the Off Colors to become pirates and freedom fighters, though in the show's canon this storytelling happened after Lars had already reinvented himself the way he did.

Sadie was also supposed to be sending letters to Lars via Steven, which is funny since the "Letters to Lars" episode is just a montage Steven letter. And of course it's specified that Steven was supposed to get Pink Diamond flashbacks by going to the Palace on Homeworld.

The second chart in the book makes references to Sadie's reinvention of herself as a parallel to Lars, Greg, and Pink Diamond all doing the same thing, and how positive it is to embrace such a thing--a version of yourself that YOU create.

I love that Yellow Diamond's arm ship arm-wrestling the Cluster was always part of the plan.

There's some more explicit direction to have Connie help Steven understand the Diamonds as "strict parents," and a lot more emphasis on everyone realizing Rose had been inspired by THEM rather than them all following her.

White Diamond is presented here as if she thinks of Pink Diamond as a "daughter" (whom she now understands she has "lost"). There are notes on how the Diamonds have a responsibility to their children and should attend to it before just continuing to make more.

One of the concept art images for the Off Colors features Rhodonite crouching by Padparadscha saying "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you." It's very interesting because she DOES seem to protect Padparadscha in the show, but doesn't seem confident about it in her final version, even though it does seem like she'd be "programmed" to guard aristocratic Gems because of her Ruby and Pearl makeup. Cool.

A "Crew Cameos" spread was included, which is of great interest to some of us who loved seeing the Crew insert themselves into the show. Not every SU Crew person who's been represented in a crowd was there, but this crowd included Amish Kumar, Kat Morris, Amanda Winterstein, Angie Wang, Lamar Abrams, Emily Walus, Mary Nash, Joe Johnston, Christy Cohen, Danny Cragg, Hilary Florido, Danny Hynes, Matt Burnett, Ben Levin, Elle Michalka.

The official national flower of South Korea, Hibiscus syriacus, is the name of Pink Diamond's flower.

One of Steven Sugar's comments about the silhouette difference between humans and Gems points out that humans have ears. This seems to be pretty good confirmation that they are not supposed to have ears, despite that sometimes we'll see ears drawn on them in some frames.

Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond is characterized in this book as "self-hating" in a really interesting way, saying that because she believed she was not capable of compassion, she practically worshiped those who demonstrated that ability and thought they were so much better than her--which is described as "intoxicating" and resulted in others being drawn to her. How interesting is that!

Timelines reveal that early plans for Pink Diamond's first Pearl originally had her getting destroyed by Pink during a game, and then her destruction was rewritten as a punishment from the Diamonds after Pink Pearl defended Pink Diamond to the other Diamonds. They went back to the idea of her getting hurt by Pink for the final version, though the cracked face and control by White Diamond was not on the agenda until they started writing "Change Your Mind."

10.

The approximate ages of the major characters, based on emergence, are revealed on these timelines. It begins with a cracked-planet-looking graphic depicting four tiny Diamonds emerging at 20,000 years ago. Some suspicious "blacked out" redacting surrounds a long timeline tail that goes back before that, which may mean there are secrets they still don't want to reveal. But the dates go like this:

20,000 years ago: The Diamonds emerge.

11,000 years ago: Pearl is custom-made for Pink Diamond.

8,000 years ago: Sapphire emerges (on Homeworld).

6,000 years ago: Ruby emerges (on a colony).

5,750 years ago: Garnet is formed.

5,600 years ago: Lapis is poofed and put in the mirror.

5,200 years ago: Jasper emerges (on Earth).

5,050 years ago: The Cluster is planted.

5,000 years ago: Amethyst emerges (on Earth).

4,500 years ago: The Crystal Gems found Amethyst.

3,000 years ago: Peridot emerges (on Homeworld).

40 years ago: Pearl found Lapis's mirror at the Galaxy Warp.

And of course we know 14 years ago Steven is born!

11.

Originally the Diamonds were based on a quartet of themes: Love, Fear, Pride, and Sorrow. It got too complicated to keep and it was abandoned, with Pink's identification of "love" being described as "particularly outdated."

12.

Notes on a sketch say that Pearl was inspired to become bold and unashamed because Pink's questions drove her to have opinions, and it's said that Rose "fell in love" with her boldness.

13.

Rebecca tells the story of driving off a ridge and getting stuck in the desert, comparing this to Ruby's tumble during her Wild West adventure and using it as inspiration. She's told this story before but here it is in print. She also included the story about using the flowers from a friend's wedding to put in Ruby's hair.

14.

Rebecca describes having to "fight" notes she was given when it had to do with Ruby and Sapphire's relationship. One she describes as NOT fighting was for a signing card depicting Ruby and Sapphire dancing. It was called "too romantic" and she decided not to worry about it since it wasn't the actual show content.

She was also scolded over her book The Answer because the powers that be expected her to downplay that relationship. She always argued that queer youth deserved these things.

15.

Tom Herpich describes being inspired to name Blue Diamond's comb "Comby" because he was watching the news about Comey getting fired from the FBI. It's also a mineral-related term and I always assumed that reference was intentional, but maybe it's not and this is the only intended significance to Comby's name?

16.

Rainbow Quartz 2.0's design is not discussed, though the other two new Fusions from "Change Your Mind" (Sunstone and Obsidian) were. RQ2 has some sketches included, but no accompanying narrative in the text.

17.

A sheet of corrupted Gems and their healed selves is offered, though it doesn't appear to be final. The obelisk in "Serious Steven" is labeled Albite. The unnamed Worm Monster, Desert Glass, and Watermelon Tourmaline are included. An unnamed birdlike Gem represents the Big Bird monster from "Giant Woman." The crab monster from "Arcade Mania" is labeled Blue Chalcedony. The Tongue Monster is drawn uncorrupted but not named. The Flower Monster from "Back to the Kindergarten" is labeled Grossular Diopside or Titanite. The invisible monster from "Island Adventure" is labeled Moonstone. The Lighthouse Gem is labeled White Topaz. A form for Larimar that was used in "Change Your Mind" but changed in Future is there. The Slinker is listed as Chrysocolla. And the Crab Monster is listed as Aventurine.

On the next page, this is changed to Bixbite (as it was in Steven Universe Future), and we then also have Lace Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate, Crazy Lace Agate (Fusion), Ocean Jasper, the Mother Centipeetle Nephrite (Facet 413 Cabochon 12) and three other Nephrites, Angel Aura Quartz, a hooded Jasper, Zebra Jasper, Biggs Jasper, Watermelon Tourmaline (labeled as Fusion of Gem * Onion--huh?), Snowflake Obsidian, "Little" Larimar, and Orange Spodumene (who was the Worm).

18.

The Rhodonite side story would have been about the love story of a Ruby and a Pearl working for Morganite. Images of Morganite and her servants, unfused, are in the book. We do not get this additional information, but Rebecca said in a panel shortly before the book's release that Rhodonite's story would have been about finding out that she had been Rejuvenated 17 times because her components kept falling in love and needing to be reset.

19.

Referring to the Diamonds on one of the charts, Steven's perspective is "I can't believe I helped these" and then there's a censor bar. Welp.

20.

Some included art by Hilary Florido features Kevin with a souped-up Koala Princess car and another where Kevin is staring at himself in the mirror in front of an altar to himself.

21.

Rebecca's sweater collection is included in the Crew art.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

#steven universe #steven universe end of an era #su spoilers #long post #su merch #myblog

173 notes · View notes

phykios · 4 years ago

Text

volcano kiss scene but make it medieval, for @perseannabeth 💙 note that this is little more than a fancy rewrite, but... marble king verse is too good to be done with completely

***🌊***🌊***🌊***

June, 1446

As Percy led his little band of adventurers through the tunnels of the Labyrinth, himself, his questing partner Ana Zabeta, his childhood companion Aegidius, and his half-brother, the cyclops Tison, following a marvelously clever creation of the god of fire, he allowed himself, for a brief moment, to feel a small sense of pride. They had finally located a deity who not only did not appear to have any negative designs on their characters, but had also promised them his help--after they had performed him a small favor, of course.

Hephaestus had fashioned for them a little spider made of metal, who moved about as though it had a beating heart, darting this way and that, nearly invisible, were it not for their torchlight flickering off its shiny, shiny legs. Though he would never speak it aloud, Percy felt a particular kind of pride on Annabeth’s behalf, as she followed the eight-legged creature with neither complaint nor fear. He knew full well just how totally she detested the beasts, her eternal and forsworn enemies, just as their mother had been an enemy of Athena.

They rounded a corner, moving from a passageway lined with a strange, shiny substance which felt cool to the touch to one of crudely-cut stone, when he spotted a tunnel off to the side, dug from raw earth, wrapped in thick roots which pried their way through the holes in the stones. Aegidius had noticed it as well, slowing his pace until he stopped entirely in front of the dark, gaping maw in the wall. “Aegidius,” Percy said, stopping as well. “What is it?”

It was as if he had not heard him. The satyr merely gazed into the black tunnel, his curly hair rustling in an impossible breeze.

“We cannot delay!” said Annabeth. “We must keep moving!”

“This is the way,” Aegidius muttered, hushed and reverent. “It is here.”

He couldn’t possibly mean… “The way to Pan?”

But Aegidius ignored him, turning instead to Tison, the creature whose very nature often rendered him speechless with fear. “Do you not smell it, too?”

“Yes,” said Tison. “Earth. The forest.”

Before them, the spider skittered further down the stone corridor. If they delayed any further, the trail would be lost to them.

“Once we have finished our errand for Hephaestus,” said Annabeth, “then we can return for Pan, I swear it.”

“The tunnel will have gone by then,” said Aegidius, with a confidence Percy had rarely seen before. “A door such as this will not remain open for long--and I must enter it.”

“But,” she said, desperate, “the forges!”

He looked at her sadly, but firmly. “I cannot go with you this time, Annabeth.”

Percy had forgotten--Aegidius was not only his companion. He had been Annabeth’s as well. He had been responsible for seeing her safely over the magical boundary in Sigeion. But the spider was nearly out of sight, and they could not tarry any longer before the gateway to the god. “We will continue to the forges,” he decided. “Aegidius, you go on to seek Pan.”

“No!” she gasped. “It is far too dangerous. If we part ways, we might never find each other again! And I cannot let you go alone.”

It was then that Tison, gentle creature he was, put his hand on Aegidius’ shoulder. As much fear as satyrs held for cyclops, Tison, for some odd reason, held just as much, if not more, for the satyrs. They had made an amusing pair at times, two of the sweetest, kindest people Percy had ever known, cowering in fear at the other. But Tison showed no fear now. Now, he was brave. “I shall go with him.”

Percy could not believe his ears. “You will?”

He nodded. “The satyr needs help. We shall find the god of the wild--together.”

Aegidius took a deep, steadying breath. “I wish I could see this through to the end with you, but--”

“I understand,” said Percy. The search for Pan was his life’s goal, the final prize in a quest which had taken his father, his father’s father, and so many searchers before him. If he did not succeed on this journey, the Council of Cloven Elders would never give him another chance. “I pray that you are right.”

Shoulders square, suddenly possessed of a confidence Percy had rarely ever seen from him, save for when he deliberated on how keftedes paled in comparison to spanakopita, he grinned. “I know that I am.”

Percy took a heartbeat to gaze on him one last time, imprinting him in his memory--just in case. “Be careful,” he told him. Then, he looked towards Tison, and opened his arms to his half-brother, who went into them willingly, squeezing Percy so strongly his eyes just about burst from his sockets.

Tison and Aegidius then disappeared into the darkness of the tree roots, lost to the wild.

“This was a mistake,” said Annabeth, her voice trembling. “We should not have let them go.”

“We will see them again,” Percy replied, attempting to summon Aegidius’ confidence. “Now, come on. The spider will not wait for us any longer.”

“Do not remind me,” she said, shuddering.

Before very long, the tunnel grew warmer, the stone walls red and glowing. The air felt as though they were walking through a giant oven, as though they had been transported into one of the forges beneath the villa for Hephaestus’ children, and he supposed, in a way, that they had. The tunnel sloped down, deeper into the earth, the spider nearly tripping over itself to reach the bottom, Annabeth right behind it.

Percy jogged to catch up. “Annabeth!” he called. “A moment?”

She glanced back at him, but did not cease her quick pace, forcing Percy to match her. “Yes?”

“I have a… question,” he panted, “regarding what Hephaestus… said, about your mother.”

“She swore never to marry,” Annabeth said, easily. Curses, Annabeth did not appear to be even remotely out of breath. He felt like such a fool compared to her, always. “She is one of the maiden goddesses, alongside Artemis and Hestia.”

Percy frowned. He had not recalled that detail about the war goddess--though, he was rather infamous for nodding off during lessons. Perhaps he had simply slept through that particular lesson. “But, if she is a maiden goddess, then--”

“How is it she came to have demigod children?”

Blushing, he nodded.

Now, this was not at all appropriate conversation, he knew. Young boys and girls were not meant to discuss such things with each other--not yet anyway. But Percy was nearly a man, and besides, he had spent enough time with Carlos and the older boys at the agoge to pick up a few pieces of knowledge here or there. Hopefully, Annabeth would think the flush on his cheeks was due to the heat of the cavern.

“Do you know how Athena was born?” she asked him.

“She was born from… the head of Zeus? In armor?”

“Precisely. She was literally born from his thoughts--and thus, her children are born the same way. When Athena falls in love with a mortal partner, it is a purely intellectual affair, just as it was with Odysseus in the epic tales. Our mother says that it is the truest kind of love.”

“So,” said Percy, frowning. “Your father and Athena… you were not--”

“I was born from their minds,” she interrupted, quickly. “Sprung from the divine thoughts of my mother and the mortal ingenuity of my father. Her children are gifts, blessings on the mortals she favors.”

“But--”

She turned to him, exasperated. “Percy, the spider has nearly vanished. Do you really wish for me to explain the precise details of my birth?”

Flushing even harder, he snapped his jaw shut.

Victorious again, she smirked. “I thought not.”

Running ahead to catch their guide, Percy followed, very neatly put in his place, and not certain he would ever be able to look at his friend the same way ever again. Some things, he decided, were perhaps better left as mysteries.

After another few minutes or so, they emerged into a cavern, larger than any stadium Percy had ever seen. It felt to be five times the size of the mighty Colosseum. There was no floor, just miles of bubbling lava beneath their feet. Standing on a rock ride which encircled the cavern, Percy saw a complex, overlapping network of metal bridges spanning the width of it, meeting on a huge platform in the center which housed the largest anvil he had ever seen, a block of iron the size of a villa. Dark, strange shapes moved about them, like formless shadows, too far away to discern what manner of creature they might be.

“We cannot sneak up on them,” said Percy, noting the distinct lack of places to hide with some despair.

With a slight grimace, Annabeth picked up their metal guide, its form having changed to a small ball, and slipped it into a fold in her dress. “I can. Wait here.”

“Hang on--” But Percy was too late, as Annabeth put on her magical cap, a gift from her mother, and vanished from his sight.

Percy cursed. He did not dare call after her, not willing to draw attention to her tactics, but nor did he appreciate the idea of her approaching the forge on her own. If those creatures could repel the likes of Hephaestus, what hope did Annabeth have? It was not safe. She was their leader--they could not risk her life. Percy would not risk her life.

Alas, he could never sit still for very long. Creeping along the outer rim of the lake of molten rock, he darted from stalagmite to stalagmite as best he could, hoping to find a better vantage point. Really, Annabeth should have known better.

The heat was horrendous, heavy and oppressive. Drenched in sweat, and eyes stinging with smoke, he moved along, staying as far from the edge as was physically possible, until he found his way stopped by a large metal box, fitted on wheels. Peering inside, he saw it was full scrapped metal, bits and bobs of broken swords and lumpy shields, piled on top of one another. Nothing he could reasonably use for an extra weapon, or even some kind of defense. Making to squeeze himself around it, he suddenly heard from up ahead a voice, rough and grating, speaking an ancient language which no man alive had heard for a thousand years.

Monsters, he knew.

There was no time to run away, no place to hide… except for the box. Leaping inside, covering himself with a dented aspis, he curled his fingers around his father’s sword, that blade Anaklusmos, hissing as the sharp metal of his bed cut between the soft parts of his armor, biting his tongue so no curse could escape.

With any luck, the monsters would pass him by, and he could continue along unmolested.

That was when, of course, that the box lurched forward, pushed along by the monsters, carrying Percy along with it. Malaka! Was he about to be tipped into a smelting pot?

All around him, he heard the chatter of terrible beasts. He was not so skilled in the ancient tongue as Annabeth, but even he could recognize a few words here or there, “weapon” and “cyclopes” and “furnace,” and some names as well: Zena, hissed with scorn, Posidaota, spat with bile, and, most chillingly of all, Kronos, spoken with reverence and awe.

Percy blinked against the sudden light as his cover was removed from his person, revealing himself to the monster, who was so taken aback by his presence, that it blinked back at him in return. For a few moments, neither of them moved, so shocked were they by the other’s sudden appearance. Then, springing into action, Percy slashed upwards, dissolving the beast in a cloud of golden smoke. Snatching up another shield and leaping from his bed of spikes, he saw with his preternatural vision a small army of at least twenty monsters, black like dogs, but with sleek, shiny skin, and legs which looked to be more suited for swimming than scrambling around the rocks of Aitne.

With a hearty battle-cry and another wide swipe, he repelled the front row of these creatures, carving himself some space to jump, sprinting for the mouth of the tunnel. The monsters followed after him, baying and growling as a pack of ravenous wolves, and they would have caught him, tearing him to pieces, had they been but a little bit faster. Thinking quickly, at the top of the tunnel, Percy hurled his shield into a column, the rocks crumbling upon impact, burying the monsters and blocking off the path with a great, noisy cave-in.

He doubted it would keep them trapped for very long. Not only that, he very much doubted that they had been the only monsters in the cavern. Percy had just announced his presence to anyone who might have been listening, destroying their chance for any sort of subtle reconnaissance.

And Annabeth was still out there, somewhere, invisible.

“Annabeth!” He yelled, running towards the platform at the center of the ocean of lava. “Annabe--!”

An invisible hand clamped over his mouth, wrestling him down behind a large, bronze cauldron. “Silence! Do you mean to have us killed?”

Arms flailing, he managed to locate her head, slipping off her cap of invisibility. She shimmered into view as an island emerging from the mist, scowling and covered in ash and grime. “It’s far too late for that,” he said, grimly. “I came upon a group of monsters, and brought the roof crashing down on them.”

Hissing curses, her hands clenched, as though she meant to strangle him, before she visibly managed to control her temper. “You said there were monsters?”

He nodded. “I know not what kind. I had thought they may have been dogs, were it not for their flippered feet and human hands, adorned with claws. They spoke of furnaces and weapons, making arms for the first Titanomachy.”

“Telkhines,” she gasped, eyes wide. “Of course! I should have known. I had wondered when I saw… well, look.”

Together they peered over the lip of the cauldron. In the center of the platform stood four of these demons, larger than any Percy had seen before, standing at least the size of a fully grown man. Their black, scaly skin glistened in the light of the fire as they labored, sparks flying between mighty hammer strikes on a long piece of glowing, hot metal, hissing to each other in the ancient language. “What are they saying?” he whispered to her. If he could not understand them, Annabeth surely would.

“They are talking of fusing metals,” she said, frowning. “Other than that, I--I cannot say.”

“Is that bad?”

She stared at him, incredulous. “The telkhines betrayed the gods,” she said, “for practicing dark magics. For their transgressions, Zeus banished them to Tartaros.”

“Alongside Kronos.”

She nodded. “We must return to Hephaestus at once--”

But no sooner had she spoken than a sharp, clawed hand pierced its way through the rubble of Percy’s cave-in, pushing aside the rocks which blocked its path, followed closely by its snout, teeth long and sharp and dripping with saliva. “You must return to the god,” Percy said, moving into a crouch. “Leave me here.”

“What?” she shrieked. “No! I will not leave you!”

At any other time, he would have praised her for her courage, but not now. “You must! Let me distract the monsters, and perhaps the spider can lead you back through the Labyrinth. You are the leader of this quest--you must take the message back to Hephaestus.”

“But you’ll be killed!”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, turning to face her. “As well, there is no other choice.”

She glared at him, her lips pulled back almost in a snarl worthy of one of the monsters. He knew this look of hers well--it was the one she wore whenever she considered hitting him for his foolishness.

But rather than hit him, she did something which shocked him even more.

She grasped the collar of his tunic, pulled him close, and kissed him. “Be careful, phykios,” she murmured against his lips, breath hot. Then she put on her cap, and vanished.

Percy couldn’t breathe, and not for the smoke. Had it not been for the lava, the monsters, the weapon, the quest, he would have been quite content to sit there all day, thinking of nothing but the softness of her mouth and the way her eyes sparkled in the firelight, unable to even recall his own name.

A sea demon screamed, jolting him back into reality.

The horde of monsters, freed from their prison, charged across the bridge towards him. Percy scrambled up from the ground, running for the middle of the platform, startling the large monsters so thoroughly that they dropped the red-hot blade over which they labored. It was as long as they were tall, curved like a crescent moon, its shape burning into his vision, sending shivers down his spine.

Unfortunately for Percy, the monsters recovered quickly from their shock. Every which way he turned, his exit was blocked by a small army, surrounding him. Cutting him off.

Raising Anaklusmos, he prayed that they could not see the blade shaking.

“Son of Poseidon,” rasped a demon, speaking Percy’s own language now. “We are honored by your visit, fish-blood.”

He spread his senses, casting about for an escape, but there was none. He was trapped.

“Will you strike us down, half-blood?” asked another one. “An you try, the rest of us shall tear you to shreds.” Licking its lips, it advanced on him, claws glinting in the glow of the forge. “Perhaps we shall deliver you to your father in pieces--an omen of the horror we shall visit upon him, and all the rest of the twelve, for their betrayal.”

Annabeth would not have allowed herself to be cornered this way, but Percy was no strategist. If the gods favored him at all, they would have seen to Annabeth’s escape, leaving him to his doom.

Was this to be his doom, he wondered? Trapped in the heart of a volcano, overrun by monsters which would use his bones to pick their teeth?

The tallest of the demons plunged its hand into the furnace, scooping a handful of molten rock. “Let us see the might of Olympus,” it said, grinning. “Let us see how long it takes him to burn!” And it threw the lava at Percy.

Dropping his sword, he swatted at his clothes which had been set alight, as though he had merely had an unfortunate run-in with the lava trap at the agoge, but it was not nearly enough, the fire engulfing him with each passing second. At first, oddly, it had only felt warm, though it grew hotter and hotter with every heartbeat.

“Your father’s nature protects you,” one monster sneered. “Makes you hard to burn. But not impossible, fish-blood. Not impossible.”

Later, Percy would struggle to remember the particulars. He would recall only the fire, and the pain. He would not remember how he crumpled to the floor in deepest agony, the sea demons howling in delight at his terror.

Nor would he remember the voice of the naiad at the farm of the giant Geryon. The water is within me, she had said.

Between waves of torment, there was a tugging sensation in his gut, calling vainly for water where there was none: not a river, nor a stream, nor even a petrified seashell. Percy called for the sea, the towering waves which could wash away villages, the currents which could destroy ships in a single blow, the endless power of the ocean, and he called for these things inside of himself, letting it loose in one terrible, horrible scream.

Fire and water collided, a typhoon of unearthly power shooting him up from the beating heart of Aitne on wings of superheated steam, peeling his skin away, another piece of flotsam flung from the earth by the force of the blast. Higher and higher he flew, further than Icarus, than Bellerophon, than Zeus himself, so high that the lord of the heavens would not be able to reach him--and then he fell, a shooting star, hurtling towards the sea which would not save him. Not this time.

#aegidius = grover btw #the marble king #perseannabeth #my fic #darkmagyk #pjo #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #marble timestamps

45 notes · View notes