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imagine-knb · 4 months

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hello, i'd like a matchup for my oc Dory (cis fem, she/her)! she's an INFP and, sadly, while in high school, she's not having a very good time, as she's being bullied for being weird. as a result, she keeps to herself, only speaks if spoken to and doesn't really have any friends. it takes a while for her to warm up to someone, but once she does, she lets herself be weird freely (she's a lot more talkative and energetic around someone she's comfortable with)

she really likes the deep sea and its creepy critters, animals in general and as she's an aspiring animator, she vibrates with excitement whenever she sees cool animations (and will info dump/fangirl/talk someone's ear off if given permission)

she dislikes being the center of attention, people who are mean just to be mean and mint

she is an artist (digital and painting), likes to listen to really really loud music and while she's not very sporty, she does enjoy watching her school's baskeball matches (she's a Seirin second year)

as for preferences, anyone from GoM (minus Midorima) + Himuro + Kagami + Momoi + Riko

sorry for how long this got, i got over-excited

Type of Romance

Admirers to Lovers

How You Two Met

As the coach of the Seirin basketball team, Riko was often very aware of who was in the gymnasium at any given time. She'd seen Dory more than a handful of times, both in the gymnasium during practices and in the classroom during school hours. Since Dory was often by herself with headphones on (where loud music could always be heard), Riko had just assumed that she preferred to be alone.

It wasn't until, one day when leaving for the gymnasium earlier than she was supposed to, Riko ran into Dory having a little trouble with some bullies that she really started to pay attention. It sort of clicked that this classmate of hers who was always alone wasn't doing it on purpose, but rather was forced to be that way due to her circumstances.

Having a strong sense of justice herself, Riko couldn't leave Dory well enough alone.

The bullies screamed as mucky water was dumped onto them, running away from the scene before anything else other than their uniforms could be damaged. When Dory looked up from her position on the floor, glancing toward the opposite side of the hall, she noticed Riko standing there with an empty mop bucket in hand, her own glare fixated on the space where the bullies had once occupied.

That angered expression softened when she turned her gaze toward Dory. Setting the bucket down, she reached a hand out to help the other girl up. "Are you okay? I think they should be gone at least for a while. Did you want to get a teacher?"

After helping her up and being assured that Dory wasn't as hurt as she'd originally assumed, Riko gave a sigh of relief. Still, she didn't feel comfortable leaving the other girl alone. "You know, I see you at practice sometimes. If you want, we could walk together from now on."

How She Fell For You

From that day forward, Riko would always try to hang out with Dory whenever possible. At first it was almost like a sense of obligation, wanting to see her classmate safe, but after a while it became more to Riko. She genuinely enjoyed spending time with Dory, learning about her interests and info dumping to her about her own.

Riko was always talking about Dory to her other friends and classmates, hyping up her art projects and praising the animation work she would show her. It came to the point that a lot of the boys on the basketball team often teased that Dory was the only person Riko talked about nowadays.

In fact, you could say that the guys realized Riko's feelings for Dory faster than she did.

"What? No, no, no, no! No way!" Riko tried to protest, but the way her cheeks seemed to heat up, flooding her entire face with an embarrassed red, said otherwise. "I don't have a crush! I don't get crushes!"

But the more she thought about it, the more Riko couldn't deny that she often felt so giddy at the thought of another day spent with Dory. The long hours of texting back and forth was something she looked forward to. Finding her in class and getting to see what new projects she was working on was one of the highlights of Riko's day.

It soon became undeniable fact to her: she liked Dory.

What a Relationship with Her is Like

A relationship between Riko and Dory is a little awkward at first, simply because Riko had never imagined herself falling for another girl. She may have tried overdoing things at first, being overly sweet, acting overly chivalrous, being too over the top. It takes her a while to realize that just being herself was the best thing for the relationship.

Unfortunately, Dory is subjected to a lot of Riko's cooking attempts. Riko's love language is acts of service, so she often tries to make treats and snacks for the two of them to share (to which they also often share stomach aches afterwards).

And despite their relationship starting with Riko acting as some kind of savior toward Dory, she never holds that over her girlfriend's head. Instead, she always encourages Dory to be stronger and stand up for herself, hoping one day a little bit of her own confidence would shine through.

"And if they try to bother you again, you can just wham!" Riko exclaims, swinging the clipboard she was holding much like a weapon as she swung it through the air. The action had Dory laughing, watching as Riko over exaggerated her self defense lesson. "Okay, come on, it's your turn to try."

Riko watched as Dory mimicked her actions, swinging her sketchbook with a little less force than Riko had done.

"No, no, with more umph, like this." Riko walked over to Dory's side, placing her hands over her girlfriend's. She guided her in swinging the book with enough follow through to hurt a person. Then, realizing how close they were, Riko blushed red. "O-okay, now try again."

Match Up Requests are Closed

#imagine knb valentine's event 2024 #riko #lowkey swooning over the thought of riko and your oc #also don't apologize for the length! I love detailed stuff like this

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lumabeansta · 1 year

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Okay. Time for a heart to heart with the WH Fandom

To everyone within the WH fandom/community, as someone who has recently seen the amazing creativity for aus and such interesting ideas based on party coffin/Clown’s project, I am very happy to see many invested in this as I am. Seriously, I have seen some amazing work. However, I feel like as if we all need a moment to ourselves and consider what lines that may be crossed if we go overboard. So I am asking we all take a moment from the project itself and focus on other outside interests for a while. Maybe like a story that could be a WIP that was never finished or something that inspired you to create the AU or anything outside WH for a good while. It may do us some good after all. I am not saying to stop supporting the project itself. Keep up the support. Like one vision created such an amazing arg that we all soon fell in love with. Especially me when it came to a form of nostalgia mixed with a hint of weirdcore factor. At least I personally believe that. Just….give yourself a break. Because if you don’t, there may be a misunderstanding or some misleading among the creator of the project and their fans. I understand we all just fell in love with this and all, but don’t forget what happens when something reaches a high point to where things may roll downhill and lead to no return. Mostly because we live in a world where things will always come back around. Either good or bad, it will always come back to you one way or another. What you do can impact Clown’s life as well as yours. Not to mention we also need to reflect upon ourselves. How our thoughts can be reflected within our art, the kind of message or meaning we want to give and display, the way we see ourselves and as others see us, the way we think, feel, see the world, it just tends to show….the real us in a way. We know we are human. Even if they are those of us who don’t like it, it’s the reality we were born in, wether you hate it or not. If you have a certain thing for a subject in question, okay cool. That’s cool! All I ask is that we just….give ourselves some time to ourselves and….reflect on our lives as well as what we create. For nowadays, it is hard to tell apart an artist from their art….and….I don’t any hostility nor unwanted toxicity among the newly established fandom. I just want us to enjoy something without breaking limits or making anyone uncomfortable.

#welcome home au #welcome home arg #personal heart to heart #welcome home puppet show

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self-ships-ahoy · 1 year

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🌟 i wanna know what ur ovw s/is would think of my boys, hanzo, lucio, n cass respectively :>

Send a 🌟 + name and I’ll talk about my self insert’s bond to that character!

Oh absolutely!! We always gotta do each others' f/os for these things.

As for my 2nd s/i, I'm just using Kayla as a placeholder name till I can settle on something else. Cuz I gotta get this meme completed.

Synthia:

For simplicity's sake, I'm skipping to the end of her story where she gets her memories back and assumes she rejoins O.verwatch.

I don't think she ever met Hanzo, but she has heard of him from Genji during her initial affiliation with O.verwatch. She would feel sympathy to know his story; it's a real testament to humans being able to choose goodness. Him being put in that whole situation to begin with would also sit with her present-day, since she still has memories of human mistreatment after she was left alone - she still supports humanity but her impression of them has fallen. As far as Hanzo is concerned, she would still try to act warm and welcoming, at one point offering him a cup of tea. English tea, sorry Hanzo. 😔

Lucio would probably be instant friendship. He cares about everyone and makes really cool music to boot. He corrects injustices and fights for the innocent. At one point I think she'd ask him about fighting for omnics as well, and maybe have a discussion about that cuz yeah of course he is and O.verwatch is trying to do that. Of course, she'll be very happy that he and her other friend Estelle are together!

Ohh Cassidy's is a real bittersweet one, cuz they were friends back in the day. Back in the post-crisis days of ovw, she and Cass spent a lot of time with each other and Dr. Liao, and later including Synthia's "sister", Echo. I could see him trying to bring some of those memories back when she couldn't remember, and when she finally does and reunites with the team, he's really happy to see her back and then picks up their friendship like nothing happened.

Kayla:

Also has not met Hanzo.......probably not any of the Shimada family tbh. (At least Synthia had the advantage of knowing Genji.) I'm not too sure what their bond would be like, if they ever met, but I think she would compliment his bow! You don't see a lot of traditional weaponry nowadays, and in a world so easily hackable, archery is a useful skill to have. She may also inquire about the light "dragons", since the canonly aren't magic and therefore something she could study. 👀

She probably listens to Lucio's music, so that's something! It'd be really cool if they met somewhere along the way, maybe he knows about her being a double agent and helping her out? It would definitely be fun to see one of her favorite music artists turn out to be an agent of O.verwatch! And.. it'd be nice to have another ally too.

I think if anyone, she may have interacted with Cassidy before. Both of them sniffing around for clues on their own, other stuff that's spoilers for my lore, but I think it'd be cool if they had worked together before the whole double-agent thing started - maybe they even still work together now, who knows! Idk I'm still working things out but I just want her to have some canon connection.

#;answers #nerdstreak #s/i: synthia #s/i: kayla

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talesfromthebacklog · 3 months

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Tales From The Frontlog: Persona 3: Reload

10/10

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It’s titles like Persona that make me go: “God damn, anime is so fucking cool.”

These are people who KNEW what they were doing when working on this remake. My only previous experience with Persona 3 was with Persona 3 Portable. And it shouldn’t be shocking that while good it didn’t have the same impact as Reload did. (Though I did still pick up P3P on Switch through Limited Run! As that was likely the cheapest we would ever see it.)

Reload completely blows P3P out of the park and has asserted itself as my favorite Persona game. (Persona 4 being my previous first favorite.). I completely destroyed this game and am sad the experience is over. (Had to get done quick so I could play Final Fantasy VII Rebirth on release!)

Persona 3: Reload is elegant, mature, wickedly stylish, and very sad. I love well written sad things. I’ve heard people call this title edgy, but that edge is what defines and makes this Persona so great. If not the best. You know what they say. The third time’s the charm! And Persona is an experience, for anyone who loves JRPGS, that people should have at least once.

Join me as I talk about Persona 3: Reload. A story of a teen named Makoto. Who just transferred to Tatsumi Port Island and awakened a powerful force by shooting himself in the head.

Persona 3 Reload is painfully stylish and cool. It’s gotten a lot of upgrades including a new voice cast. Which I think does a better job sounding more natural. Especially Bebe. The old crew did a phenominal job but I just like new performances better.

Also the amount of voice acting we got. Wow. Practically the whole thing has voice acting. Even all the social links. I think that might be a first, but don’t quote me on that.

Then there’s the art direction, which has been somewhat of a hot topic, but I like the new art assets better. The original artwork has an undeniable charm but the new stuff has this great polish.

Though I dare say the older art better lends to the “creepy” tone of the game. The traditionally beautiful anime faces do take away from that a little.

And this new look isn’t just the art assets and sprites, it goes as far as the menu.

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I don’t say this often, but that’s hot. That menu is everything. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so strongly about a menu. I would fight a stranger in the parking lot if they told me this menu looked bad. It is so slick and sleek. It hurts because of how good this looks.

This? This gives me math folder vibes. I think this was why I was so much more drawn to Persona 4 in the first place.

Well. Not because of the menu. The menu is functional and doesn’t look awful by any stretch of the imagination. We all know that fully functional is a high bar for developers to reach nowadays.

But each Persona, from 1 - 5 and now to Reload, was a step into stronger art direction. Each Persona contributed something new artistically to get it to its current state of intense stylization. Persona 3 Reload is simply a culmination of all these steps forward. It makes me feel bad for not touching the main Shin Megani Tensei series at all. Because I don’t get to see the artistic history from it that could have contributed to Persona. I’m aware I’m missing out and need to correct that! Ha!

TLDR: Persona 3: Reload is so ✨PRETTY✨.

Then there’s the gameplay. Persona ranks among my favorite JRPGs because it has so much side stuff to do. Persona at its core is two different kinds of games. A life sim and a JRPG. If you get bored with one half you can go hang out in the other. Excellent. Brilliant. Love it. Persona is a great ADHD person game. It also gives the game a nice contrast between the light and dark elements. A narrative rest, so to speak. Also the difficulty modes. I’m not afraid to say I prefer normal mode. Some grinding is fine but I hate excessive grinding in games. I feel it overshadows the game. Though without some grind you just have a glorified visual novel. It’s all about balance and personal taste I suppose. But I’m of the belief that grinding doesn’t make a game hard. It makes it time consuming which makes it look like the game is hard. But this is not the same thing! Persona just… GETS that I don’t want to grind for that long.

I love JRPGs, but I tend to run hot and cold with them. I think a lot of them do really suffer from being too samey in their initial presentation. The style and identity the Persona series has is 100% what kept me playing after a friend lent me his Vita to play. He insisted upon it as he handed me Persona 4 Golden.

He was right. Persona was awesome. Persona 3 Reload makes me feel those same feelings when I had that initial introduction to the franchise. I do feel genuinely wowed by this title. Which I don’t feel often in gaming. My favorite part about it is it is set in the modern era. Swords and dragons are nice, but different time periods come with different ideologies, cultures, and challenges. Persona takes the “familiar” and uses that premise to flip your world upside down. And that each one goes with a different aesthetic.

God I hope they remake or rerelease 1 or 2. Or both.

Anyway.

Persona 3 additionally is just so… sad. Persona 4 has those sad moments too but I just feel those main and side stories hit harder in Persona 3. The ending is a sad gut punch. I love it. Like any great visual novel character interactions and story can make or break the experience. And Persona 3 only managed to sharpen those interactions with the newer voice acting and the retranslated script. The whole feel is a lot less awkward.

Then there’s the music. If you didn’t watch the intro I posted in the beginning, do yourself a favor and do so as you read please.

Oh? You’ve heard the song before? Are you saying you don’t want to listen to this jazzy and funky soundtrack again? Heresey I say!

Oh? You don’t want to scroll back up? No problem fam. I’m gonna post the full track here.

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And the whole soundtrack is this good. This is just a taste. Ugh. It’s so good. It is both energizing and soothing. I ask you to listen purely because my words can’t do it justice.

I am recognizing what a mistake it was not to play the full console version and what a crime it is that they ported P3P over Persona 3 itself. It had an anime too, did it not? Like a movie or something?

Let’s not start with the FES mess. They’ve basically said it’s not being included even as DLC. I’m just going to play it separately, and by the good grace of god you don’t have to play the whole game over to play “The Answer” arc. (Which I’ll post an update on that when I do that. Someday.)

I can take or leave the female protagonist. I want a female protagonist, but in P3P she was always kind of an empty husk that you knew wasn’t the “real” main character. I don’t mind games where I play a character instead of myself. But I feel they could do a new unique perspective if they switched it up for Persona 6. Especially since they are nailing down some of the problematic elements of the series.

I’m aware that they’ve changed a lot from the original Persona 3 to Reload. But to be frank my memory has just never been that long lasting or great. I can genuinely come back to most games after a certain amount of time and it’s like playing it brand new over again. A blessing and a curse. But I can remember Tartarus being a bigger pain in the ass than it is now. Tartarus also seems notably more varied in design as you climb. I feel like I am having a distinctly better time than the first time. (I may have to play a brief stint in portable to see if this is true.)

Side note: The Dark Hour as a concept in itself is a topic I want to cover in its own post at some point. This isn’t unique to Reload which isn’t why I’m not talking about a lot of elements like this (Because remake reviews should be more about what is improved) but it was still a genius way to fit in an alternate world.

At the end of the day, and right before the dark hour, Persona 3: Reload had no excuse to fail. The bones of the beast itself were so good. As long as you left it to simmer and caramelize this remake always destined to be great. It takes elements and tricks that made later titles great and Atlus applied all their learned skills here.

It’s stuff the Persona, and SMT, community already loved. And for good reason. It was already a compelling experience and it’s one I’m really glad I came back to. Playing it this way really changed how I felt about the game as a whole. Even without the extra content I’m going to say this is THE WAY to play Persona 3 from here on out. We’ll see if I feel that way after playing Persona 3: FES. But don’t expect to see that critique any time soon.

#Persona 3 #Persona #Persona 3 Reload #persona series #shin megami tensei #SMT #Shin Megami Tensei Persona #Persona 3 Portable #PlayStation 5 #tales from the backlog #gaming #tftb #video games #video game review #video game #visual novel #JRPG #jrpg games #JRPGS

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kylesvariouslistsandstuff · 4 months

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Henri Rousseau homages in media...

From what I understand, the French post-Impressionist painter's work was out of place at the time of its creation. Time is often kind to art, and like a lot of other actually cool things, Rousseau's paintings became beloved. Hell, his 'Equatorial Jungle' from 1909 really made an impression on me at a young age:

It was featured in a book that my maternal grandparents owned, part of a series called OUR LIVING WORLD OF NATURE. Rousseau's style seems to be called "naive", as he was a self-taught artist. Maybe back then, that was not seen as an entirely acceptable thing. Nowadays, it's not so bad. Admittedly, his style could be called "childish" or "playful" in some fashion, but what I see is a lush and vibrant look that really jumps out. After all, it was Picasso himself who came across Rousseau's work... Maybe Rousseau was simply onto something. Like a lot of great artists unappreciated in their time are.

So much so, his influence is in the things you see above...

The album cover for The Beach Boys' SMILEY SMILE makes sense, being a more homemade affair than a work in a professional studio environment, not a big production. That, and the music reflects a generally much looser spirit. Following the collapse of the ambitious SMiLE, Beach Boys co-founder and former leader Brian Wilson found himself embracing a weirder, much more minimal approach to the sound he had previously, meticulously fine-tuned and crafted. Went from pocket symphonies to homespun weirdness that polarized people in fall 1967. Even in an environment of rampant psychedelic sounds and exciting transformations of the rock sound up unto that point, it was truly its own beast. A seemingly blasphemous antithesis to what SMiLE was supposed to be, ditto the work Brian had crafted prior to it (PET SOUNDS, for starters). The cover sets the mood: Hazy, often warped and silly music coming from a little forest cottage, surrounded by goofy-looking animals. Like Rousseau's paintings, SMILEY SMILE would see reevaluation decades later. I was initially very mixed on it myself upon doing my Beach Boys deep dive as a teen in the late aughts, but I eventually came to love it. To think, the group wouldn't do something like it ever again. Until at least LOVE YOU in 1977, but I won't go on a tangent there - this would be a multi-part post if I did that!

The reference in THE SIMPSONS episode, 'The Crepes of Wrath' (season 1, ep 11), is also very fitting, as it follows a series of French painting parodies all representing different eras. All as Bart and Ugolin cycle through the countryside. Just a very clever visual gag, the kind that made THE SIMPSONS stand out upon its arrival and the kind that makes the show itself what it is. Just very knowing, savvy humor like that.

MADAGASCAR is a particularly surprising one, considering that it's still kinda-sort of an early CGI movie. Okay, maybe 2005 - ten years after TOY STORY - isn't necessarily "early", but the technology was still being pushed in significant ways back then. An all-animal cast, many of the animals having furs to animate, etc. Cartoony takes and movements, funkier character design and shapes. That was all pretty unorthodox coming off of the likes of FINDING NEMO and SHREK. The Rousseau-inspired look of the Madagascar jungles stands in contrast to the more jagged and angular New York setting, and really gives it a uniqueness. This could've just a lot of plants and vegetation, but no, they specifically chose a certain painter to create this location.

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cloud-9ine · 3 years

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Through a Golden Lens (pt 1)

⤷ pairing - hawks x (fem) reader

⤷ fandom - bnha

⤷ warnings - some language, hawks flirting, reader’s cynicism

⤷ summary - reader is a bitter, overworked photographer at a hero press agency with little patience for her newly assigned muse- hawks

⤷ word count - 4.5k+

⤷ notes - i have lots of ideas so this is probably going to be a multi-part series. also new to tumblr so this might not be the best

⤷ pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

“Mr. Hawks! Please look this way!” his heavy lidded eyes rolled to the side as another blinding flash burned through his vision.

“You look perfect, thank you!” it was hard to smile for their benefit, but he managed. Hawks had attended countless of these events for the press. It had been exhilarating at first, with the rush of adrenaline from the cameras and the lights and the endless stream of compliments solidifying his place in the public eye.

Nowadays, it was less thrilling. After a while, they all seemed the same- each one blurring into a senseless flare of cameras and hollow accolades.

He was bored, to say the least.

“Mr Hawks, would you like to come and see? I’d love to hear your opinion on this set!” with a practiced, easy smirk he nodded. It was easier to pander to the artist than to criticise their work.

He looked good, but when did he not? The shoots were easy to glide through. All he had to do was pull a boyish grin, ‘make love to the camera’ as the photographers always liked to spout. It didn’t really matter what he did: the public would eat up anything with his face slapped on to the front. They all looked the same to him, anyway.

“Looks good,” he wondered why people were so easily satiated by shallow praises, but as he stared at the younger lady’s blush, he couldn’t help but realise that maybe it was him who had something to do with it.

Hawks couldn’t help his gaze from drifting to the door. His skin prickled in the humidity of all the moving bodies in one enclosed space and he longed to take a step outside and stretch his wings in a way that wasn’t to pose for a magazine.

For a moment, he felt like his prayers had been answered when the door opened, letting in a stream of natural light to breach the artificiality of the modelling room.

”(L/N)! You were supposed to be here over three hours ago!” the woman in front of him exclaimed, ripping the camera away from his view and marching to the figure that appeared in the light. He blinked in surprise: this entire shoot he hadn’t heard her raise her voice above anything but a low mumble when conversing with him, and now she was positively fuming.

You stared down at your co-worker through honey-tinted shades, expression unamused.

“Yeah, and I was also supposed to be out of this job three years ago. We don’t all do what we’re supposed to, cupcake.”

For a moment, Hawks thought you were a model. Tasteful cream turtleneck tucked into heavily creased mocha skirt, caramel beret perched on your head. There were a few metal, classy looking rings wrapped around your fingers, but as far as he could see, no wedding ring. It was pretty standard style for those who worked in the arts, but somehow you wore it so well.

Your hair was a little dishevelled, and the dark circles under your eyes combined with the coffee cup in your hand were obvious signs of a rough night. His eyes locked on to the loopy black handwriting on the brown band around the cup.

(L/N) (Y/N)

You were no model, but Hawks couldn’t see the difference.

His wings beat lightly behind his back as he glided over, weaving through the other photographers and models scattered around the area.

“Hey there, I’m Hawks,” he said smoothly, voice saccharine as he spoke to you. Your attention turned to him as you glanced at him from above the frames of your sunglasses, seemingly unimpressed.

“This the new boytoy, Mizuki?” you asked, eyes raking up and down his figure. Hawks was never one to shy away from the gaze of others, but the way you were inspecting him made him feel so exposed.

“Show some respect,” Mizuki muttered, voice lowered at Hawks’ presence but glare still piercing. You sighed, sparing one last glance at Hawks before snatching the camera out of Mizuki’s hands, leaving her scrambling for the device as you walked away.

“Lemme see what you’ve got already,” Mizuki’s face grew red, half from anger towards you, and half because of the embarrassment of being diminished in front of Hawks.

“(L/N) y-you can’t just come in three hours late and take over! I’ve already done the shoot and Hawks has already expressed that he is pleased with the outcome,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and shooting the shorter woman a glare over your shoulder.

“There’s no way you’re gonna force me to come into work and make me sit here doing nothing,” you sneered, waving the camera around almost teasingly, “you wanted someone actually skilled to do this shoot, and here I am. Let me do my thing,” without waiting for a response, you left, thumb fumbling with the dial that allowed you to scroll through the photos.

Hawks was impressed. You hadn’t bat an eye when you saw him, and while you were very clearly very late, you were confident in your skills and obviously took your job seriously.

“Who was that?” he questioned, wings spreading slightly as his eyes chased after you. Mizuki bowed her head, remorse filling her expression.

“I apologise for her impertinence. That’s (L/N), she was who your original photographer was supposed to be today, but when she didn’t show up I had to take over,” she huffed, “she’s been like this for about a year now, and the boss is prepared to fire her if she keeps it up. So you’d think she’d be able to pull her at together for you, Mr. Hawks...”

After a while, Hawks tuned out her whining, eyes curiously trained on you, surveying your furrowed brows and expression pinched with annoyance as you studied the photos. Although they looked good enough to him, it appeared that you didn’t share the same sentiment.

Hawks didn’t have time to avert his eyes when you turned your head, gaze locking on to his. You raised a slightly suspicious brow, but otherwise didn’t entertain his actions.

“Mizuki, why would you use cool lighting?” you called over your shoulder, not even sparing the decency to turn around and face the person you were addressing. Mizuki frowned, moving to your side. Like a magnet, Hawks did the same, peering over your other shoulder. You eyed him from the corner of your vision for a second before tapping the screen.

“What do you mean?” you sighed at your co-workers words, evidently frustrated.

“Considering you have bird boy over here in dark academia, accented in warmer yellows, using cool lights will bring out too much of a contrast. We need to match the accent colours with warmer lighting, or use a overlay,” you muttered, seemingly addressing yourself more than the two of them. Mizuki just shook her head.

“That would just oversaturate the image,” you snorted, giving her the same patronising look an adult would give a child if they tried to outsmart them.

“Not necessarily. I could spot-reduce saturation in highlight areas during editing. Or, if you really want your contrast, I could neutralise the warmer shades by using a blue, or compliment them using a red,” Hawks didn’t miss the way you said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. Mizuki looked agitated, her frown growing deeper.

“Even so, we only have white backdrops. That would be a jarring contrast. You’d need something darker or more clustered to make it work. If you wanted a backdrop change you probably should’ve come earlier,” she spoke with a formality that obviously stemmed from Hawks next to her, but you paid no mind. You were silent for a moment, and Hawks could see your eyes narrowing as you were thinking.

“I need a natural background, huh?” you mumbled, thumbing the buttons on the camera. With a shrug, “alright, bird boy, come on, we’re leaving,” Hawks blinked in surprise as you spun on your heel, a grin breaking onto his face. Finally, he got to leave.

“Whatever you say, boss,” you shot him an irritated look.

“Don’t call me that. I’m 22, not 40,” his feathers ruffled up. “Hey, I’m also 22! What a coincidence, right?” he grinned, winking at you. You just responded by rolling your eyes.

Mizuki spluttered, trying in vain to get either one of you to stop as Hawks trailed after you.

“L-Look, you can’t just leave-” you turned, shoving the camera back into her hands, a mirthless smile on your face.

“Watch me,” your voice was cold, goading her to try and stop you, “bird boy, out, now.” Hawks didn’t have to be told twice. Some of the others whispered and muttered as they realised what was going on, but they all fell quiet when you shot them a sharp glare.

He breathed in the fresh air with a content sigh, his chest feeling lighter now he was out the cramped room. The amber glow from the late afternoon sun kissed his tanned skin as he stretched his arms above his head, his forearms flexing slightly under his dark blazer. His eyes shut in bliss and head tilted back, exposing his sharp jawline.

You eyed him slightly, eyes trailing across his features. Now that you had actually left, you were a little lost on what your plan was. You didn’t regret storming out of there, though, nor did you even consider turning back to apologise.

You took your own camera out of the dark camera bag slung across your body, careful not to scratch it on the tripod, and focused the lens on Hawks. It was smaller, a little more compact than the ones Mizuki and the others were using, but you found that it was much better suited for portrait work.

The click of the camera shutter brought Hawks out of his stupor, eyes snapping open and immediately landing on you. Your attention had already been diverted to the screen, studying your work.

“The modelling room is stuffy, I’ll give you that,” you mumbled, zooming in on his face, “but you can stretch while we walk,” Hawks leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the shot.

“Aw, you make me look so good, I’m flattered!” you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be,” you took a large sip of your coffee, moving down the pathway as you thought. Hawks scrambled after you, his wings puffing out when he reached your side. You couldn’t help but gaze at the bright red feathers as he unfurled his wings, a small, happy chirping noise rumbling at the back of his throat once they were fully spread behind your back. They were warm, you noticed, feeling the heat through your turtleneck.

Your vision was filled with a cheeky smirk painted on full lips, Hawks’ face appearing in front of your eyes. Your eyes narrowed as you sized him up.

“See something you like?” you rolled your eyes as he purred.

“Not in the slightest, bird brain,” his wings beat behind his back, hand clutching the fabric on his chest.

“Oh, how you wound me!” Hawks cried, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly, which you quickly covered with your coffee cup.

“I’m sure you’ll face a villain that will do greater damage than I could,” he hummed, angling his face towards the sun.

“So, where are we headed?” you chewed on your bottom lip, slinging your camera over your shoulder.

“It can’t be anywhere with lots of traffic, you attract a lot of attention, you know?” it was a rhetorical question, but Hawks’ chest still puffed out in pride at your words.

“Thanks, it’s because of my raging-”

“Shut up,” you cut him off, “either way, I have a pounding headache and I do not have enough shits to give to put up with your fan girls today,” with a sigh, you rubbed your temples. Hawks stared at your clenched teeth.

“Hey, why do you-” “I think I know where we can go,” he frowned.

“You know it’s not polite to interrupt people like that-”

“Sunflowers.” your tone dripped finality as you faced Hawks, a brazen determination in your eyes he hadn’t seen until now. It made his breath hitch in his throat.

Breathy chuckle escaping his lips, and eyebrows furrowed when you sped your pace, gulping down more of your coffee.

“Uh, what?” you waved a hand dismissively.

“There’s a sunflower field in Fukuroi City, I think it’s west from here,” the tiniest of grins etched onto your features, “it’s gonna be a lot more interesting than the rest of those blank background. Plus, the yellow will compliment your clothes, and with the sun low in the sky I’ll get my perfect warm lighting,” you explained. Hawks wasn’t sure exactly how much of a difference it would make, but the idea seemed charming, and it was more exciting than being perpetually flanked by a white screen.

“Sounds good,” he chirped, “although, to be honest, you could take me out anywhere and I wouldn’t mind,” you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a shame, because I don’t intend to hang around any more than I have to,” Hawks pouted, crossing his arms.

“Come on, I wanna know more about you!” you bristled.

“Good for you.” the two of you fell into a beat of silence before Hawks smiled, undaunted.

“I’m sure I can win you over somehow,” shaking your head in disbelief, you lifted the cup to your lips, before looking down disappointedly when you realised it was empty.

“I don’t have enough coffee for this,” you muttered. Hawks’ expression brightened.

“That’s an easy fix: your agency is around here so you must know there area pretty well,” he spoke nonchalantly, as if he was on a casual lunch date and not in the most expensive outfit you’d seen in your entire life, “what’s the best place to grab a coffee?” for a moment, you looked taken aback, before shaking your head.

“Best café in these parts is the Sunset Hour,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck, “but as much as I have no inhibitions regarding bunking off work, that’s a little too far away. I need to take this pictures before the end of the day or Mizuki’ll submit those crappy ones she took in the studio,” Hawks nodded in understanding, smile never faltering for a second.

“Well I gotta get you your caffeine fix somewhere, so what’s the second best?” your expression scrunched in thought for a moment, before you jutted a thumb over your shoulder.

“There’s a Starbucks across the road,” he snickered seeing your blank expression.

“Not exactly where I would want our first date, but I suppose it’ll do,” rolling your eyes, you shoved the empty cup to his chest, which he gripped almost instinctively.

“Good thing this isn’t a date, then,” Hawks grinned, sending your empty cup on a feather to the nearest bin before chasing after you as you crossed the road. You didn’t spare him a single glance when he appeared at your shoulder, nor when he reached over above your head to open the Starbucks door from behind you.

“So you’re saying we can have our first date somewhere else?” with a shallow sigh, you shook your head.

“What I’m saying is that there’s not gonna be a first date. Not between us,” his chest tightened. God, you were so mean. He’d be into that.

The inside of the Starbucks was a mix between modern, western architecture and traditional Japanese woodwork. The equipment was all cutting edge, and the tables and chairs were made with a sleek mahogany, but the windows were framed with bamboo shutters, and the backroom was separated with shoji sliding doors. It was an curious blend, one that you studied with an interest. The deep, earthy scent of roasted coffee beans heavily imbued the air, filling your nose with the aroma of something far more familiar.

Given it was the late afternoon, and most people tended not to drink caffeine after 2pm, the patrons were few and far in between. Good for you, at least. It meant you wouldn’t get- “Hawks? Sorry to bother you but can we get a picture?” your head turned at the voice that rung out.

Two high school girls stood to your left, hands clutched together in front of their chests and a dark pink coating their cheeks. With a small sigh, you took a step forward in the small queue. Hawks smiled with all the faux charm in the world, an obvious change in his demeanour as his pride spiked.

“Of course! And just as it happens, I have my personal photographer here who can make sure your photos look amazing as you two do!” it took you a moment to register what he had said through the excited squeals of the girls before he clutched your shoulders and pulled you forward, causing you to stumble slightly.

“Your what?” he sent you an audacious smirk, willing you to play along as one of the girls handed you her phone. Your first instinct was to decline, but as you met the eyes of the girls, so eager and bright, you couldn’t find it in you to disappoint them.

Taking a couple steps back, you lifted the phone, slightly angling it so the picture looked more natural, and not that of a celebrity and their fans (even if it was). You squinted angrily at the poor lighting, but tried to rectify it the best you could. The girls looked a little tense, but Hawks was a natural. A liberal smirk played on his lips and shoulders rolled back, relaxed. Even with the low lighting, the highlights on his cheekbone and jawline were indescribably perfect, and you weren’t sure if the credit should go to you or his god-like genes.

“Wow, that’s perfect!” one of the girls cried, her body appearing by your side. You hadn’t even noticed her moving, “thank you so much!” you just nodded, handing her back her phone and crossing your arms, eyes narrowing at Hawks.

“If that’s all, ladies, we best be ordering,” they nodded frantically at Hawks’ words, sharply bowing and spouting their thanks to the two of you countless times. They left the Starbucks, but even outside you could still hear them fawning over the picture. He faced you with a grin, but you couldn’t muster up a smile.

“Don’t go around telling people I’m your personal photographer,” you sneered. He pouted, looking genuinely disappointed for a second. “What, you don’t wanna be mine?” “Not in the slightest.”

“What will be your order, Miss?” the barista had directed the question at you, but it was clear his attention was elsewhere. You weren’t surprised, but a small swell of annoyance grew in your mind.

“Can I have a mocha with a double shot of expresso?” Hawks chuckled.

“Might as well have an expresso, you know. You’re basically just taking a shot of caffeine,” you shrugged.

“It’s my favourite drink. I like the chocolate taste,” he looked at you with round eyes, a small squeeze in his chest.

“And you, sir?”

“Oh, I’ll have the same, then,” he didn’t miss the way your eyes darted to him. The barista nodded, tapping for a couple seconds before turning back.

“That’ll be 660 yen,” “I’m paying,” Hawks blurted, even before you could offer. You were silent, a small nod in the affirmative rocking your head. As he handed over the bills, he chuckled. “You know, not that I mind, but usually couples would argue over who’s paying,” you rolled your eyes.

“We’re not a couple,” you watched the barista prepare your drinks, more of a way to occupy yourself rather than a genuine interest, “besides, you’re a lot richer than I am. I don’t mean to be impolite, but I’m sure you can lose 600 yen and still be good,” he hummed happily.

“No disagreements there.” “Are you two eating in or taking out?” the barista asked, in the midst of securing the plastic lids to the top of the cups. Hawks’ eyes sparkled as he turned to you with an excitement you assumed only appeared in children.

“Hey, we can-” “Take out,” you responded, giving a now deflated Hawks a challenging look, “I will leave you here if I have to.” the blonde grinned. “You wouldn’t. You need me for the pictures,” he sang, voice jovial.

“I don’t care about you that much. The sunflowers are probably less annoying subjects anyway,” oh. With no warning, his heart beat sped up, his wings puffing out slightly. Sure, he wouldn’t mind if you were a little nicer to him, but your insults were like a breath of fresh air. There was no doubt that Hawks loved the limelight, loved the popularity he got, but the relentless ass-kissing got old after a while. You kept him on his toes. Even if he was just constantly chasing after you every time you brushed him off, he didn’t care.

“Put those away, bird brain,” it was then he realised his wings had spread further than he intended, stretched out on either side of him. One was curled right around his face, and he almost felt himself blushing as he pulled them in. It was just animal instincts, he assured himself.

The rest of the journey was filled with a one-sided conversation of him talking and commenting on what was around you, with no response from you except the occasional witty retort or light-hearted jab at his expense, each one making his heart flutter. It wasn’t too long before you had arrived, the chain link fence around the plot stretching high above your head and corroded with orange rust.

Rows and rows of bright yellow sunflowers stretched to the horizon, an immense display of summer vitality. The fragrance was potent, a sort of cloying sweetness that you didn’t hate. And just as you were about to enter, you knew you had made a mistake.

“Oh.” Hawks stared at you incredulously, attention switching from your taken aback expression to the sign posted on the gate.

“You didn’t check to see it was open?” you looked up at him, allowing him to survey a tinge of remorse he hadn’t recognised until this point.

“Look, how was I supposed to know? This place has always been open at this time since I was a little kid,” you rubbed your arm, brows furrowed. Hawks sighed, rolling his shoulders back.

“Well, the sun’s too low to go anywhere else outside,” he shrugged, “it’s no biggie, I guess. Those other photos weren’t too bad. Hey, now that we’re free, do you want to- what are you doing?” your foot was halfway in the gaps in the gate, the wedges on your heels making it hard to climb.

“I’m not wasting my day for nothing,” you growled, fingers curling around the metal, “get climbing, bird boy,” with a soft sigh, smile gracing his lips and a warm feeling in his chest, Hawks spread his wings.

“I think you’re forgetting something that’ll make this a lot easier,” you felt a cool draft on your back as Hawks flapped his wings, the feeling being quickly replaced by the warmth of his chest as he pulled you in. A foreign emotion coiled in your stomach, but you convinced yourself that it was just the flight.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other supporting your knees, and all Hawks was thinking that such a gentle flight never felt so calming.

Your feet tapped against the soft soil, sinking in to it slightly when the hero placed you down. You nodded your thanks.

“Let’s go over there, I want the sun coming in from the right,” Hawks nodded, content to just follow your orders. You pulled the tripod from your bag and set it up, adjusting it to your liking as Hawks looked around, trying to think of a pose.

Once everything was ready, you turned your attention to Hawks.

“I want to humanise you,” he grinned curiously as you walked over.

“What do you mean by that?” he nearly gasped when you grabbed his chin, angling his face to the side and slightly up, towards the sun. You took a step closer, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He bit his lip, hands trembling as you tugged slightly, trying to mess it up a little.

“All the photos I’ve seen on you always put a huge emphasis on either your wings or your hero status, and I don’t really see why,” you mumbled, placing one hand on his jawline while the other fixed his hair to your liking, letting a few strands fall in front of his eyes, “I think that just creates a divide. If they wanted you to seem angelic they should play that up, not just have it the norm,” you huffed, “anyway, I wanna put the emphasis on you and not your wings. So ideally if you could tuck them behind your back that would be wonderful,”

Hawks nodded, disappointment filling him as you stepped away. He made sure not to move as he awkwardly folded his wings over each other and pulled them in, glancing at you with a look of apprehension. You just nodded in approval, leaning down to your camera.

You took plenty of shots, allowing him plenty more opportunities to feel your hands on him (and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it).

“Hey, why were you so late today?” Hawks dared to question while you were analysing your photos. You were perched on a bench, appreciating your work. The late sun cast a golden sheen on his skin, the spattering of glimmering rays highlighting his face in all the right places.

“I was sleeping,” you responded, deleting an out of focus shot. His eyes narrowed.

“What?” “Just as it sounds. Figured if they were gonna make me work so I could only have three hours of sleep a night it was gonna be on their time, not mine,” he frowned, taking a seat next to you.

“They shouldn’t work you that hard,” you shrugged with a hollow laugh, blank gaze in your eyes.

“What am I gonna do? Have them fire me? As much as I hate this job it’s the only thing that pays for my coffee in the morning,” he was silent as you stood up, stretching your arms behind your bag before tucking everything back in your bag.

“Did you want to be a photographer?” he questioned, only to be met with a forlorn smile.

“Maybe at one point.” the two of you lapsed into silence before you sighed.

“Well, I’ve gotta submit these to Mizuki, and I’m sure you need-” Hawks caught your wrist, spinning you back around.

In the glow of the sunset, you looked almost ethereal. Your eyes gleamed, and cheeks warmed in the orange flare. Sunflowers framed your form, and the words caught in his throat, nearly stopping him from saying anything at all.

“Come work for me.” he blurted. You snorted.

“No.” all he could do was smile as you hopped back over the fence, not waiting up for him.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

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mindofharry · 3 years

Text

Fallon Jenkins has no one left. Her family is dead, her friends no where to be found and all she has right now is her bow and arrow and the zombies that rule the night. Harry styles has been wandering around towns for days, looking for rations or new people to recruit but it’s been so long that he’s losing that optimism that got him through the first month of the apocalypse. When his bike breaks down just outside of a garage Harry sees that as fate — what he doesn’t expect is a sarcastic brunette guarding all of the tools. Will Fallon and Harry see eye to eye? Will they rule the apocalypse together?

CHAPTER ONE

☾ ☾ ☾

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS….. APOCALYPSE.

The first word that came to mind when asked about how Fallon is feeling is: bored. She feels completely and utterly, bored. She’s a creative, an artist. She doesn’t know how she’s lasted out in this world without her pens and paper, but she’s holding on. And she has to remind herself, bored is better than dead. Fallon is drained and exhausted, she hasn’t showered in two days, disgusting is another word to describe her right now.

Fallon lived a good life. She might’ve not had a lot, but she was loved. She had family, a mom and a dad. She had good, supportive friends. Fallon was going to school in New York for arts and drama. Everything was going so well, and then someone just had to become a zombie. Her parents and Fallon all lived together in a small apartment off the east coast, it was tiny and not fit for three people — but they pulled through. They worked extra shifts at the diner, did the odd baby sitting job here and there. And although it was hard sometimes, they all a ton of respect for each other and a shit load of love. Fallon loved her parents, loved her friends.

But that’s all gone now.

Every single one of them are dead or have abandoned her. Her parents were too old, too frail to fight the zombies off. Her dad was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with Fallon. Fallon had strength and determination, which had gotten her through the first month of the apocalypse. But her father and mother seemed to lose faith pretty quickly and in the end, they were too tired to keep fighting. So they surrounded.

Fallon had been out trying to find more food, or people to help and bring into their home. It was like any other day in the apocalypse really. When she arrived home, her parents were dead. They were bloody and beaten up pretty badly, her dads arm had been bitten off and the side of her mothers hip was badly bruised. But they had died holding hands, and on their own terms. Something that kept Fallon going was knowing that it wasn’t her fault, that her mother and father chose to die.

“Baby, we’re too old. We’re only putting you in more danger”

Was it selfish of her to say that she was glad? That she only had herself to worry about? It was easier this way. That’s what she likes to tell herself anyways.

Harry Styles was a writer from England, but had recently moved to America when the apocalypse started. He was sat in his spacious apartment, book in hand and tv on when the news host spewed out nonsense about a zombie and disease. Harry really thought nothing of it, another prank or false information. But then the president of the united states made an announcement and Harry knew what he had to do.

With people outside of his apartment complex fighting for cars and rations, he locked up his home. He brought his drawers to the front door and then locked himself in his small closet for three days.

Once he knew the coast was clear, Harry set out for help. He had his car, but it was probably stolen during the outbreak a couple days ago. So he walked to the storage unit he left his motorcycle in. He had recently done it up and left gas in it, thank god for that.

Harry didn’t know if his family were ok. He didn’t know if this was happening in his hometown too. But he pushed all of those feelings of worry down, and decided to look on the bright side of things.

He’s safe.

Harry has been wandering around towns for days, only going on the bike an hour at a time. He’s found good spots to sleep and hide out for a bit, and he’s got some rations that’ll last him a couple of weeks.

Fallon is currently hiding out in what she thinks is a garage, something to do with mechanics and cars. It’s warm, has tools she can defend herself with and a small office she hide out in.

It’s almost relaxing.

That is until she heard someone outside.

“Time to break out the kit” Fallon mumbled to herself moving over to the red box with all of the tools inside. She took out a wrench and a knife, her bow and arrow attached to her back sort of like a back pack. Fallon took archery back in high school, it comes in very handy nowadays. She’s not athletic per say, but she’s pretty good at the bow and arrow. She’s had to learn how to do self defence, something that’s not easy because she’s so lanky. Her father used to make fun of her because every time Fallon got up her bones would crack.

Harry sat outside of the garage cursing the bike. “Thought you’d at least give me another half hour” He mumbled standing the bike up against the wall. Harry looked around and he almost fell to ground with gratitude when he realised he was outside of a garage. He isn’t the best with fixing bikes or cars, but he has some knowledge. Harry thinks it’s just a small break he can easily replace with the right tools. He’s just praying that no one has raided this place yet.

Fallon was ready and walked outside.

She was not expecting the tall, curly haired, green eyed boy. Her heart skipped a beat looking at him, but she soon composed herself holding up the wrench.

“…Shit!” Harry yelled nearly falling into his bike. His hand came up to his chest and another to his pocket holding onto his knife.

“Stay back!” Fallon yelled moving closer to harry, he put his hands up his knife falling out of his lap.

“I come in peace. I just need to repair my bike, and i’ll be on my way”

Fallon bit her lip still holding up the wrench, she lifted her right hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She looked the man up and down again, trying to figure out if she should trust him or not. He didn’t try and attack her, he dropped his knife and from the looks of it his bike does look like it needs some repairing.

“My name is Harry Styles. I’ve lived in New York for three years. I love the notebook. I’m a writer. I have no idea how to use that knife so if you’re going to kill me just do it fast” Harry said lamely, almost like he knew she would give in.

She brought down the wrench and nodded her head.

“Fallon” She said and Harry just turned around to his bike.

“Didn’t ask” He mumbled, bringing his bike into the garage. Fallon rolled her eyes and followed the man, now known as Harry, into the garage.

“I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“I can help…”

Before Fallon could explain herself, Harry shook his head with a fake smile. “No need, Fallon. Don’t need you messing it up even more” He said tight lipped. Fallon rolled her eyes and sighed, moving away from the bike with her hands in the air. She moved away from the whole place, going back to her make shift bedroom and grabbing her knife from the red box on the way.

She wanted to stab Harry Styles so hard.

But Fallon soon realised he might be more helpful than she once thought.

After a few hours of sitting by herself, and organising her little room Fallon decided to go annoy Harry. When she had her friends, she loved being around them. She loved talking and inviting people out, she just loved being around people. Maybe Harry will be willing to talk to her for a bit, let her annoy him.

“Soo….. you’ve got an accent” Fallon said and harry wiped his forehead and looked up.

She’s trying to make conversation. Harry didn’t like that.

“Yeah”

He didn’t elaborate.

“I visited England a few years back with a friend, super cool place. We didn’t stay long, but I wanted to go back but then…” Fallon trailed off and Harry nodded leaning his hands on the table.

“And then…” She repeated and Harry sighed.

“And then this” He said.

Fallon walked over to harry and looked him up and down. “I’ll let you use all my tools, if…. you stay with me for a couple days” She said her knife digging into his stomach. Harry grunted, if he moved one muscle he would be stabbed — something he does not want. Harry grabbed her Fallon’s hand turned her around so her back was to his chest, the knife came out of his neck and Harrys lips against her ear.

“Was a threat?” He said and Fallon rolled her eyes taking the gun out of the front of her jeans, holding it against his forehead, now having the upper hand. Harry sighed to himself, this girl was exasperating but that could be useful. It’s lonely out there. It’d be nice not to have to do this alone, even if it was only for a couple days.

“I use your tools, bring us to a safe location and then we both go on our way. Deal?” Harry said putting the knife down, Fallon turned around her face close to Harrys. He had beautiful eyes. Forest green. Her favourite colour.

“Get me a place with a working shower and then we’ll have a deal” Fallon said, the gun still up against Harry’s forehead.

Harry rolled his eyes and put his hand out for a shake.

“Deal”

☾ ☾ ☾

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning” Harry said, wiping off his hands on a towel Fallon had given him. She was currently sharpening her knife, shaking her head. Who does he think he is? Fallon is obviously the leader in this situation.

“No?” Harry asked taking a seat beside her. This girl, again, was exasperating. Sarcastic, rude, a bit scary. But beautiful. She had long dark brown hair, but it was pulled into a high pony tail. The pony tail had a small braid in it, a bead on the end of it. Her lips are plump and chapped, but harry would just love to place his on hers.

Woah, get it together harry.

“You’re talking like you’re in charge here” Fallon said.

Harry glared at her, “Well, I am”

Oh hell no, Fallon thought.

“You’re in my space, Noah” Fallon said and Harry rolled his eyes so hard he fell back into the seat.

“My name isn’t Noah. See that’s why I should be the leader…..” He said standing up “Because at least I have the decency to remember your name! Which is not all that special by the way, it’s an easily forgettable name” Harry seethed, his hands on his hips. Fallon giggled to herself, putting her knife down.

“You done with this…” She trailed off, moving her hands in the air at harry. “This hissy fit?” She finished and harry only turned his head away from her as answer.

“Noah is the main characters name in the notebook. You said you liked the notebook. Didn’t forget your name Harry. Even those it’s a very forgettable name” Fallon said, standing up and softly slapping him on the shoulder.

“Get some rest, we’ll be up bright and early tomorrow, noah”

“it’s harry!”

Fallon got her supplies ready for tomorrow, and sat them beside her make shift bed. She was going to miss this place. But she knew if she was going to stay alive in this world, she had to keep moving. She had to trust people. Although she’d never admit this to his face, Harry seems to be a natural leader and she trusts him. Fallon just likes giving him a hard time. It’s fun seeing him to flustered.

Harry didn’t sleep a wink. He felt responsible for Fallon, even though the garage was heavily boarded up — he still felt like it was his job to patrol and guard it all night.

Not because he liked Fallon……

Definitely not.

“Harry…..”

Poke.

“Harry….”

Jab.

“Noah!”

Poke.

“Harry Styles!”

Punch.

“What the hell!” Harry yelled holding onto his shoulder. “You wouldn’t wake up! It’s 6 AM! Let’s get moving leader!” Fallon said tapping her foot. Harry grumbled to himself, popping open a box of gum and putting into his mouth. He didn’t even look at Fallon just handed the box to her, while he put his leather jacket back on.

He didn’t sleep much and Harry doesn’t even remember falling asleep. But it had to be only half an hour ago.

Fallon looked well rested, probably because she had a bed.

“Leader? You’re seriously letting me be in charge?” Harry questioned throwing their supplies on the back of the bike.

“Well, you seem resourceful…. and you have a motorcycle. So you be in charge i guess” Fallon shrugged.

“So just because I have a motorcycle I’m in charge?” He asked and Fallon nodded.

“Works for me.” Harry said and opened up the garage door. “Goodbye Garage. Thanks for keeping me safe.” Fallon said with a pout. Harry rolled his eyes and started the motorcycle handing her the helmet. He stole another one from the back of the garage.

“Noah and Allie take on the apocalypse?” Fallon asked placing her arms around harry.

“Yeah, whatever.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #apocalypse!harry styles #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut

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tuffduff · 4 years

Text

My Path to You (Slash x Reader)

Pairing: modern!Slash x younger!Reader

Words: 2,300 (OOPS)

Request: anon! : “hi there! i was hoping you could write a modern!Slash imagine where there’s a considerable age gap (whatever you’re comfortable with) and the two of them meet and fall for each other. eventually slash wants to ask the reader out on a date but is super shy and nervous but she says yes and then they go on a date and it can end however you want it to.”

A/N: MY FIRST SLASH REQUEST Y’ALL!! And I do be nervous writing it lmao. This is entirely from Slash’s POV, I’m not sure if people like that kind of thing but it’s a different way to explore writing. There’s a little coffee shop in my area that has a picture of Slash on the wall, so that was inspiration too. Hope y’all enjoy, thank you for the request! 🖤

What now? It was a question Slash asked himself nearly every day, now that he was newly single. That was a new feeling, one he wasn’t expecting now at this stage in his life; wasn’t he supposed to be married and settled and happy and all that shit by this point in his life? He brushed off the notion, after-all who gave a fuck. He wasn’t a conventional guy. Life is as it happens. But he’d be lying if he didn’t say the idea of getting back out there again intimidated him.

Slash kept to himself in his own world, for the most part. Creating, always with guitar in hand. Especially now being sober, putting himself out there wasn’t exactly appealing. He couldn’t use a dating app, he wasn’t gonna go to a bar or a club, and all of his friends were taken. Where would he possibly meet someone? Dating someone famous wasn’t really what he was looking for, he never fit in with that scene. He wasn’t opposed to dating a fan, but could he ever find someone who wanted him for him?

“Don’t worry, man.” Duff had reassured him. “If it happens, you know, it’ll happen. But not if you’re looking for it. You’ll find her when you least expect it. Just live your life.”

That was smart and Duff was usually right. So, Slash continued to focus on his craft. And he tried to change his outlook, very literally. One night, he wore a baseball cap pulled low and his hair tied back and tucked away in his jacket and hoped it was enough not to get swarmed as he headed out to an art walk in the more historical art district near downtown.

If anyone recognized him, they let him be as he walked down the cobblestone sidewalk, taking in all the creations. The more art and sculptures he admired, the more he stopped worrying about getting recognized.

He was admiring two pieces of wood burned art, a set featuring an artistic interpretation of a woman’s silhouette body.

“These are really sweet.” Slash complimented the artist, who gave a gracious nod.

“Thanks, man. Those pieces have had a lot of eyes on them tonight, thankfully.”

“How much for ‘em?” Slash asked.

“$65 each.” The artist replied, almost sounding sheepish. “...Maybe that’s why they haven’t sold yet.”

“I bet they took a lot of time.” Slash assured him. He pulled out his wallet, fishing out two hundred-dollar bills. “Don’t let people make you second-guess your work.” He passed him the bills, to which the man’s eyes widened.

“Uh, I’m-I’m not sure if I have the enough change.” He said, hastily digging through his small stack of cash from prior purchases.

“It’s cool.” Slash said, smiling and extending his hand. “Thanks again, man.” They shook hands before Slash picked up the two pieces of wood, already trying to picture the perfect spot in his house.

“Okay, I’m back! I’ve got it!” Slash heard someone breathlessly calling behind him. It was a younger woman clasping a wad of cash in her hands as she ran up to the man Slash had just left. “Dipped into my savings but...”

The wood carver gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, they just sold.” Slash watched literal heartbreak wash over her eyes before they flickered right over to him. The dismay in her gaze, the way her shoulders slumped and deflated nearly made his own heart break.

“Oh...damn.” She muttered, tucking the cash back in her pocket. “I really liked them. Oh well. Thanks, anyways.” She said politely. She sent one last glance towards the pieces of art in his arms before she turned on her heel and walked away, head down.

“Hey!” Suddenly, Slash found himself hurrying after her. She stopped in her tracks and turned, her eyes now displaying curiosity.

Uh, what now? He asked himself in his head once he found himself face to face. Up close, she was even more striking, he realized. Beautiful, he’d never seen a face like hers. So expressive, so vivid, so alive with emotions. Her hair framed her face perfectly, her clothes complimented her body well and seemed to be a representation of the woman she was. And he liked everything about what he could see.

“Uh,” he chuckled nervously, looking down. “I, uh, I overheard you had your eye on these.” He said, raising the pieces of art.

“Yeah. I come here to this event every month. I’ve seen those two every time and I’ve been trying to save up. This month I would’ve had enough, but bills—you know.” She rolled her eyes and sighed a little. “Anyway, I saw them tonight and I just couldn’t bear to wait another month or risk them finally being sold, so I ran back to the ATM down the street and pulled out of my savings, not that I really had a lot in there to begin with...” she paused as though she had said too much, shaking her head, flustered. “Sorry. Uh, but I mean, I’m happy for you. Just, take care of them for me.” She chuckled, but her eyes were still stuck on the art.

“I’ll do a trade with you.” Slash proposed. His nerves were playing tricks on him, making him more outgoing than he normally was and then wanting to take it back as soon as he spoke.

“Um, what kinda trade?” She asked curiously. Her nose scrunched a little as she frowned in confusion and he smiled. She was precious. Slash found himself wondering every little detail about her, about the path she had walked in her life so far, and how somehow theirs had crossed.

“I’ll let you have these if you’ll get coffee with me.” Coffee dates, that’s what people did nowadays, right? She blinked a few times at his words and had him wondering.

“That doesn’t seem fair; you paid for those. I’ll pay you for them.”

“No, no. I really don’t need the money.” Slash replied, laughing a little. “How about you keep one and I keep one?”

“...Why?”

“I can tell you really like them.” He said. She bit her lip as she seemed to consider his offer, hesitating.

“And why coffee?”

“I think you’re the prettiest art I’ve seen all afternoon.” Again, her face expressed vivid emotion that most people tried to hide. He watched her lips form a laugh and appreciated the sound.

“I don’t even know your name.” She laughed. He panicked a little in his head. Guess he wasn’t gonna get everything right; it had been a while.

“I guess you can call me Saul.”

“You guess?”

“My friends call me something else.” He mused. A part of him was curious to know if she knew him; lots of people recognized him, not that he was conceited or kept track. Was she a fan? Did she hate his kind of music? Surely, she’d heard of Guns N’ Roses. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” Slash smiled; it was like finding the right spot on a puzzle. It fit perfectly and helped him see even more of the picture. “Y/N, I can tell you really like them. I wouldn’t feel right keeping both; I just stumbled upon them.”

“All the more reason you keep them. They spoke to you, like they spoke to me.” There it was. Her voice, her words, it sent a slight wave through his stomach. That warm, fluttery feeling. He extended out one of the pieces to her insistently.

“All the more reason you keep one too.” She smiled as she took the wood carving.

“Thank you so much.”

“So, would you maybe wanna...?” Again, a part of him panicked. “You don’t have to, you know. You can take your half and be on your way if you’re not interested.”

“No, I’d love to! There’s this little local coffee shop I go to all the time—they display local artists’ work and have live musicians Friday nights and stuff. Do you want my number?”

“Uh, yeah. That’d be cool.” He fumbled with his phone, surprised he had gotten so far. That evening he went home with more than just a piece of artwork and a new perspective. He dialed Duff immediately.

“Hello?”

“I’ve got a date, but I need help.” Duff laughed.

“Are you on that date right now?”

“What? No.”

“Oh okay—it sounded urgent.”

“Well, I’m still freaking out a little.”

“Why?”

“She’s a little younger. But she’s so fucking beautiful, dude. She’s just, I don’t know that much about her, but I want to, you know? From just what little I could see.” Slash sighed a little before he walked Duff through the whole story.

“Did she not recognize you?”

“I don’t think so. But I was wearing a hat and glasses and my hair was tied up.”

“It’s gonna be fine, man. Don’t forget who you are, and that’s one badass talented motherfucker. But also, if nothing else, you can take something from this experience and just gain a new perspective. See the world from someone’s eyes. Don’t overthink any of it. If you guys click, you click.”

Slash realized Duff was right. That’s why he appreciated art. Music, especially. There was so much to be said in something someone created, a story they were trying to tell. Listening was something he did best.

He met Y/N at the local coffee shop, not far from where they had first met. The large pot holders outside were adorned with colored mosaic and he stopped to admire them for a moment.

“Hi, Saul.” He turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Y/N was walking up, a bright smile on her face. It was as if his memory were confirmed; yes, she was as beautiful as he remembered the first time.

“Hey, Y/N. This place looks neat.”

“Wait ‘til you try the cold brew. Do you like that?”

“I like those things you get at Starbucks, the caramel things, you know?”

“Caramel macchiatos?” Y/N asked with a laugh. “They have something like that. I’ll order it for you.”

“Okay.” He agreed instantly, smiling at her. “I trust you.” He paid again even though she argued, remembering what she had told him about bills. As they sat down together with their drinks, they broke into what he supposed was small talk, however, it didn’t feel like it. In the meanwhile, Slash couldn’t help but notice the pictures adorning the exposed brick wall behind them. A framed photo of ABBA, The Rolling Stones, Aretha Franklin…and, one of himself, on stage. He laughed a little.

“What’s so funny?” Y/N asked as she sipped her drink. He smirked a little, deciding maybe he should come clean.

“I was just looking at the pictures on the wall,” he replied nonchalantly. “Out of all of these people, who do you think is the coolest?”

Y/N turned in her chair, her eyes passing over the pictures.

“The Rolling Stones are cool...Slash is pretty awesome. Probably one of those two.” He smiled when she turned back around. “What?”

“You think I’m pretty awesome?” He asked as he pulled his shades down. Y/N’s eyes widened and she clasped her hand over her mouth.

“I—you! Are you—” he laughed. “So that’s what your friends call you! Oh my god. I didn’t recognize you with your hair pulled back and the glasses are different, and I didn’t know you had the scruff nowadays—it looks good.” She stopped. “I listen to you all the time, this is so...strange.”

“Is it bad?” Slash asked.

“No!” She laughed again. “But...me?” Slash shrugged, smiling as he nudged her shoe with the tip of his converse.

“You seemed pretty chill.”

“Thanks. Most of the time I’m not.” She grinned.

“Neither am I.” She didn’t try to argue or continue to fawn. She didn’t stare at him like he was a Martian. There was reverence in her eyes, surprise, but more so, curiosity.

“What makes you say that?”

“I dunno. It’s kinda like, social media. People only put a small portion of themselves out there, what they want people to see usually. But when everybody knows who you are, they still only know one part of you. And they think they know everything. But here I am...getting a divorce. I’m a dad. I’m just trying to figure shit out like everyone else. Experience life.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He laid all of it out on the table, after-all, he couldn’t hide any of those facts if he were looking for an honest partner.

“When it comes down to it, that’s what matters, right?” She mused with him. “Experiences. Not getting it right. Who decides what’s right anyways? I’d rather say I really lived.” It was those words that really stuck with him. It had him thinking, it had him yearning, it had him daydreaming.

It had him asking to see her again.

Slash called Duff before he even made it home.

“Hey, man, how’d it go? How’d she take it when you told her?”

“Good, she really is just the most chill chick ever. She knew who I was, she just didn’t recognize me. But she’s so cool, she’s got all these thoughts, all these opinions that really get me thinking, you know? I can’t wait to pick up my guitar, man, like, I’m that inspired right now.” Duff laughed.

“So, are you gonna see her again?”

“Yeah. That’s the other thing.” Slash paused. “I invited her over for dinner next week.”

“Oh. Right on; good for you, man!”

“But I don’t know how to cook.” Duff was silent for a moment before he laughed.

“Okay...well. I can help.”

#slash gnr imagine #slash gnr #saul hudson #saul hudson imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #gnr imagine #gnr #slash x reader #80s imagines #classic rock imagine

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apomaro-mellow · 3 years

Text

Boring

Read on AO3

Another day, another hustle, another person swindled out of their money. While everyone else was celebrating inside, Makoto took his drink outside onto the balcony. He had toasted with them and ate a little but now drifted off to be alone. The others paid him no mind. He did that after every job after all. They figured it was just how he was. Someone who couldn't handle their raucous partying for long.

But even though he put off a vibe of wanting solitude, he never went behind a closed door. The few times he tried to do that, Cynthia just pounded on it until he agreed to come out.

So now he separated himself while allowing himself to be available. Even though only one person ever came up and talked to him. And that talk was only a preamble to something else.

Sure enough, Laurent came outside and put an arm around Makoto's shoulders.

"You need a light?", he asked, offering a flame just as Makoto took out a cigarette.

Makoto took a deep inhale once it was lit, then blew it right into Laurent's face. One of the small rebellions he could get away with nowadays. Laurent, always so in control, took it in stride. He talked about their latest case, Makoto gave a response here and there. And then Laurent was leading him to the bedroom.

Unlike in other things, in sex Laurent was generous. Although Makoto suspected that was because he was still in control. He controlled Makoto's flushed face, his gasps and moans, even when he orgasmed. Makoto didn't mind giving up control in this. He didn't have to think, only feel. Soft hair, warm skin, kisses that allowed Makoto to imagine he was cared for.

When they finished, reality came back like a weight on strained muscles. Laurent did care for him. But it was a version of Makoto that didn't feel whole. After Laurent fell asleep, he remained awake, thoughts an aimless jumble. An hour later, he got out of bed and wrapped himself in a robe. He went out onto the balcony outside their room and lounged in one of the chairs. The night air was warm with a gentle cool breeze. As he gazed up at the stars, he could imagine for a moment that he wasn't himself.

Or at least not the con artist version of himself.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you don't wanna be around me", Laurent said, covered in a robe of his own.

"Even if that was true, you'd find me anywhere", Makoto replied, closing his eyes.

Laurent came to sit next to him. "What are you thinking about?"

Makoto was tired. And he was already so thoroughly owned and dismissed by Laurent, it really didn't matter what he said. He could say he was thinking about tomorrow's breakfast or about dropping off the face of the earth and it would get the same response.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

Laurent shifted in his seat. "...And by 'this' you mean...?"

Makoto opened his eyes and turned his head towards him. "You know what I mean. I don't want to lie anymore. Not to myself or to others to take their money."

"I thought you had finally given up on that", Laurent sighed.

"I have", Makoto said, looking back at the night sky. "But I can't help but think about it."

"I thought...you like the way things are now between us, don't you?", Laurent asked.

Makoto let out a laughter that was so deep and genuine. Of course. Of course the bastard was worried most about that. He had half a mind to try and break his heart right now. But Makoto had said he didn't want to lie anymore. He stood up and walked over to Laurent. He sat down on top of him, straddling his lap.

"If I could quit this life, it wouldn't be about leaving you. I'd take you with me. If you wanted to go that is."

"If I wanted to go?"

"Laurent, if I thought I could escape you, I would have done so years ago." Makoto's voice was a mix of bitterness and love. While part of him wished to disappear and never be found again, another part knew that Laurent was forever etched into his soul. It really was a mess. He hated Laurent, everything he did and everything he represented.

But Makoto also loved him.

"Just what would you do with this honest life of yours?"

"I'd do whatever I want, without swindling other people."

Makoto didn't have a specific aspiration or dream. Just waking up and taking pride in whatever work he did was enough for him.

"Sounds boring", Laurent yawned.

Makoto nodded. "It would be." In fact, that was the main point for Makoto. He'd had enough excitement to last him a lifetime.

"I've lived the boring life when I was a child. It wasn't really for me", Laurent was ready to brush off everything like he always did.

This wasn't the first time Makoto had ever brought up leaving the team. As the years went by, he had just stopped. But tonight, something was different. And a thought occurred to Makoto that never did before.

"You haven't tried boring with me", he said.

Laurent's eyes widened a little at that. And Makoto felt something he hadn't in a long time - triumph. All these years, Makoto and talked and dreamed of quitting the life and starting anew on his own. He had never once suggested that Laurent come with him.

"You're...you're just talking out of your ass, aren't you?", Laurent joked, a bit in disbelief.

"You know very well what's been in my ass", Makoto said, grinding in his lap a little. He was feeling playful at having finally caught the other off guard.

Laurent let out a groan and held Makoto's hips in place. "I just can't see it. You and me. Living in a house somewhere? Doing a regular 9 to 5 job?"

"You wouldn't have to work", Makoto said. "We've stolen enough to retire in style for life. We could literally spend our lives on vacation."

"I thought you wanted honest work?"

"I wanted an honest life. I don't need to work if all my needs are taken care of. But maybe I'd get a job at some point", he shrugged. "You could be my trophy husband this time."

"This time?", Laurent smirked.

"I know you like showing me off and having me hang off your arm, you sleazy bastard."

Makoto hadn't registered it the first time Laurent had gifted him an expensive suit. But when Makoto had been given a nice watch, he finally understood. Laurent kissing the inside of his wrist before putting it on made it hard to ignore.

Laurent shifted again, the robe falling and exposing one of his pale shoulders. "Do you really think it's possible? For someone like me?"

"Only if you actually try it. It won't work if you half-ass it."

"So I should full-ass it, you say?", Laurent smirked as his hands moved to squeeze Makoto's behind.

Makoto rolled his eyes. "Are you really considering this? Or are you just talking until the next time we have sex?"

Laurent didn't answer at first, his eyes searching for something in Makoto's. "I don't want you to leave me."

Makoto leaned in close, his lips just a touch away from the other man's. He paused, and felt delight when Laurent moved forward a bit to try and bridge the gap between their lips. Makoto backed up just enough to keep the kiss from happening and grinned.

"Then do what you do best. Follow me."

#apo writes #fanfiction #great pretender #edaurent #frenchbean

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jlalafics · 4 years

Note

Modern Au dabble where Everlark connect on the roof of one of their houses and then cute kiss leading into ya know? Thanks! You and your books are amazing! -Zeffie ♥️♥️

Hey love! Thanks for this amazing prompt. I hope you wanted this ficlet with a good amount of spice...

Enjoy @hungergamesfangirl02 (Zeffie)!

_____

The moment she steps onto the roof, Peeta spots her.

She is circling the space with her roommates; the sharp-tongued woman with blunt bangs and crimson lowlights and the blue-eyed blonde wearing a crown of flowers. His roommate, Gale, had a one-night thing with the blonde. Peeta can still remember the muttered moaning of her name through the thin walls of their apartment: Madge…Madge…Madge…

Peeta drinks from his red cup, trying to quietly observe the girl in the middle. She’s wearing a cropped jean jacket and a shift burgundy dress with embroidered straps. The ankle boots lengthen her rich-colored legs and he wonders, albeit briefly, what he would see if a sudden gust of wind were to sweep through.

However, it’s summer in the city.

Balmy and warm, the sun just going down and it’s practically another day.

“Peeta!” He turns, spotting Finnick, his other roommate, and Annie, Finnick’s girlfriend. It’s his friend’s birthday and a possible engagement party. Annie doesn’t know, but Peeta and Finnick just picked up the ring from the jeweler this afternoon. “Why are you hiding in the corner?”

“You know that I’m not the party type,” he tells them with a smile. Peeta eyes his friend. “So…anything interesting going on?”

“Not quite,” Finnick responds, throwing an arm around Annie’s shoulders. “Maybe a little later.”

Peeta nods, trying to suppress his smile. It’s not often that his friend is uncertain; he’s known Finnick since they were in diapers and his bronze-haired friend has always moved forward, unafraid of what was ahead of him.

However, when it comes to Annie, the man is total mush.

“You need to circulate,” Annie tells him, her green eyes full of kind concern. “It’s been a year since Delly.”

“Who’s Delly?” comes a brash voice.

They all turn to find the woman with red hair standing before them.

And, right next to her is—

“Katniss!” Annie is rushing towards the pretty girl to give her a hug. Then she goes to Miss Blunt Bangs, embracing her as well. “Johanna!”

They all pull apart and Annie introduces them to Finnick and Peeta.

“I’ve seen you before on campus,” Finnick says to Katniss—Peeta is already in love just hearing her name. “You’re a voice major, right?”

Katniss nods. “Yup, but more song writing and composition than singing.”

“Well, you should talk to Peeta here.” Finnick waves at hand at him, clover eyes sparkling. He knows Peeta well enough to identify when he’s interested in something…or someone. “He’s exceptionally talented when it comes to playing. I don’t think there’s an instrument that he hasn’t experimented with.”

Katniss turns, grey almond-eyes on him. “I’ve seen you around before.”

“I don’t go to Juilliard,” Peeta stammers out.

“No!” She grins and he finds himself smiling back at the way her face completely blooms with loveliness. “I’ve seen you sitting on this roof. You play out here sometimes.”

“Yeah, Katniss has been mini-spying on you,” Johanna informs him.

“Really?” He eyes her and Katniss’ cheeks color—geez, now she’s even more gorgeous. “I’m flattered.”

“I actually live over there—” Katniss points to the adjacent building. It’s at few floors higher, but just enough for someone to look over and see clearly onto their roof. “—sometimes I go up to write or to look at the stars.”

“Don’t lie to the man,” her friend retorts, earning a glare. “At least tell him that you’re a little hot for him holding a guitar.”

“Johanna—” Annie thankfully interrupts. “Thresh has been looking for you.”

“I gave him a blowjob last month and he’s been hitting me up ever since,” she replies. Looking over at Katniss, Johanna winks. “Have fun with your mystery man.”

The two girls walk off, leaving Finnick, Peeta, and Katniss standing together.

“Oh!” Finnick looks around. “I think I better make sure that we still have enough ice and prepare for my birthday speech.” He pats Peeta on the back. “Have fun.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen a more obvious setup,” Katniss tells him when they’re finally alone.

“They mean well,” Peeta replies. “At least, Annie and Finnick do. Johanna is a bit of a mystery.” He looks over to the bar. “Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.” They head to the bar; Peeta tries to keep cool as Katniss joins his side. Their hands are a muscle movement away from touching and he stiffens his hand. “I’d love a Corona and lime.”

“Very summer of you,” he replies before requesting it from the bartender. “How do you know Annie?”

The bartender places the tall neck bottle, placing the lime wedge at the opening, before handing it to Katniss.

They find their way to a spot at the far corner of the party and settle down together on a lone bench. Finnick is talking to the DJ and he sees Annie talking to Madge, whose arm is around Gale’s waist. Johanna has found Thresh and they are dancing, both decently tearing up the floor.

It’s the perfect summer night.

“She works with Johanna,” Katniss explains. “I think they’re EAs for the two CEOs, so they’re always working together. I’ve known Johanna my whole life. When I found out I got into Juilliard, I didn’t hesitate to ask her to come with me. She didn’t hesitate to say yes. Her home life was less than ideal.”

“That sucks.” Real smooth, idiot. His tongue is so tied around her, but Peeta takes a breath and searches for another topic. “How about you? What’s your family life like?”

“I have one sister. Sweetest girl you’ll ever know.” Her smile goes soft and sad, lost in thought. “My Dad passed away when I was five.”

“I’m sorry.”

His hand goes unconsciously to hers resting between them. Peeta motions to pull away, but her fingers entwine with his.

Their eyes meet, silently agreeing that it feels right.

“It’s fine. He was sick for a long time,” Katniss explains. “When I was 12, my mom met Haymitch and we all kind of loved him from the start. They got married when I was 13 and have been thoroughly happy ever since.” She moves closer. “And you? Tell me about your family.”

“My Dad’s a businessman,” he starts. “Have you heard of Mellark Bakery?”

“Yeah, they have that huge factory across the bridge,” Katniss replies. “Your Dad work there?”

Peeta holds out his free hand, wondering if he should have open this can of worms. However, if this is going anywhere (is it too early to propose?), he should probably tell her about his family.

“Nice to meet you. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss let out a laugh, putting down her Corona to shake his hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was meeting with a son of industry!”

“My Dad is actually pretty cool,” he tells her. “He’s always been very encouraging and supportive of me and my older brothers, Emmett and Noel. Emmett is an artist and Noel is a chef.”

“And your mother?”

“Pretty opposite.” Katniss squeezes his hand, listening intently. “She’s a society woman. Very beautiful, but very cold.”

“Oh, she is going to hate me,” Katniss replies.

Peeta grins at her words. “Already planning to meet the parents?”

“Of course. We’ve connected, you know?” she proclaims. “Now that I’ve seen you up close, there’s no going back.”

“And your family?” he counters. “Would they like me?”

“They’re going to love you,” she says, her grey eyes on him. “You seem so easy to care for.”

Peeta looks at his feet, overcome by her words. “How do you know?”

“Last month, I was coming home from school and you were walking out of your building. There was a little old woman coming out of her taxi and she seemed to be struggling to even open the door. So, you opened the door for her, and you helped her set up her walker on the sidewalk. Then, you paid for her cab and helped her inside your building. Nobody does shit like that anymore. Everyone always seems to be looking out for themselves, nowadays.”

“Mags has lived here the longest, so she’s kind of building royalty,” Peeta explains. “Also, her husband died a while back and she has no kids. The people in this building are her family and we take care of one another.”

“I like that,” Katniss tells him.

“I like you,” he blurts out. “I mean, if it hasn’t been obvious enough.”

Katniss doesn’t respond, but she shifts a little bit closer to him as she stares into his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Peeta is intrigued by her abruptness. “What did you have in mind?”

She pulls him by his hand to stand up. He rises and their chests brush against one another. It is brief, but it is enough to light a fire in his belly at the feel of peaked nipples against his thin flannel button-down.

“We’re going stargazing.”

++++++

“For some reason, Johanna has a deal with the maintenance crew in the building,” Katniss recounts as they step onto the roof of her apartment complex. “No one else but myself, Johanna, and Madge are allowed up here.” She leads him over to a set of lounge chairs. “I don’t really know what kind of deal she cut, and I’ve never bothered to ask.”

“That’s probably for the best,” he tells her. “Are you allowed to bring people up here?”

“I’m pretty sure that Johanna and Madge have brought guys up here before.” Katniss turns to him, her eyes glowing under the light of the moon. “You are the only person that I’ve ever brought here…the only person I want to bring here.”

Peeta isn’t sure if it is the moon…or the Corona…or the heat of the night…but something dances inside his chest, telling him to go to her. Her eyes are on him, hunger so intense in them that there is nothing he could do but go to her. Katniss follows suit, marching towards him with determination.

A groan escapes her lips at the feel of him hard against her pelvis. “Peeta, please…”

They meet in the middle of the roof, breaths heavy and Katniss reaches to cup his cheek. His arm rounds her slender waist, pulling her close to let her feel what she does to him.

“What would you like?” he asks, voice roughened with need. His free hand moves along the lines of her body and she whines, pressing closer to him. “Tell me what you want, Katniss.”

“I want you to kiss me.” Katniss’ mouth grazes against him and he nearly crumbles at the feel of heat between her legs. “Then, I want you to fuck me until we both see stars.”

His mouth is on hers, slotting them together. He sucks harshly at her upper lip as her hands reach for him, holding his face in place as she bites at his lower lip. They both moan into one another, tasting lime and alcohol and the fire between them.

Katniss moves them towards one of the chairs, her hands traveling down and reaching to the buttons of his shirt as her tongue sweeps into his mouth. His own hands move to yank at her jean jacket until she shrugs it off.

“Touch me, Peeta,” she says into his mouth. His shirt has been tossed to the ground and her hands roam unabashedly against his heated skin.

Peeta reaches for the hem of her dress and Katniss complies, lifting her arms up so he could pull the dress over her head. Once it is off, he steps back and looks at the beautiful woman under the summer moon.

Every inch of her skin is caramel and Peeta licks his lips ravenously as his eyes rove over lush breasts with rosy nipples…the graceful dip of her waist…full hips…and nude mesh panties that cover a thatch of dark hair.

“You are beautiful,” he rasps.

Katniss slowly sits down on the lounger, resting back. Her chest heaves, nipples pointed in the warm air, as she waits expectantly for him.

Peeta kneels before her. Carefully, he takes her boots and places them next to the lounger. Then, he is at her center, mouthing her through the mesh and sampling the honey pleasure of her core. Her hands go to his hair, fingers running through his hair and nails scratching at his scalp as he sucks and tongues her through the scrap of nothing.

“Fuck! Peeta!” Her wails are like gold and he moans, vibrating against her cunt. “More, please!” He moves the scrap of cloth away from her quim and plunges his tongue inside her. “Oh my God!”

Part of him is thankful for the party next door, the vibration of music sheathing her cries in the air. Peeta loves the sound of her, unabashed in showing him how good she feels. Katniss pushes herself against his tongue, legs wrapping around his head as she humps his face.

He is drenched in her; his new favorite drink for a summer’s night.

Peeta’s hands move to his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them quickly.

Pulling away, Katniss whines at the motion until she sees his pants undone. Her eyes, already smoky, have gone obsidian at the sight and he pushes his briefs down, his erection jutting out.

She sits up, one hand pressed to the seat as the other reaches to his length, wrapping her fingers around him. Her thumb moves to the mushroomed head, spreading the precum and he almost seizes at the sensation.

“You’ve given me what I want,” she tells him, her hand stroking him slowly. “What do you want?”

“I want to show you the stars,” Peeta replies, his hand reaching to her panties and she lifts her hips, letting him slide them off until it joins their pile of discarded clothing. He stands before her, reaching for the waist of his jeans and boxers before pulling them off in one motion. His shoes and socks followed, joining her boots.

He stands before her, naked and obviously wanting.

Katniss lays back, pushing herself up onto her elbows, admiring the sight before her.

“I did watch you from here,” she says, her voice strained. “You’d fiddle with your guitar and I’d fiddle myself.”

The image of Katniss, hands on herself…fingers dipping into that dripping cunt is just too much.

Peeta falls to his knees, yanking her down until ass is at the edge of the chair, the backs of her legs pressing along his front.

Then, in one motion, he thrusts roughly into her sodden quim.

The moment Peeta slides into her, her whole body growls.

He can feel her contracting around him and he begins to move, savoring the feeling of being surrounded by her slick. Peeta leans down and their lips meet, her body practically folding in half so he can taste her.

Katniss moans into their kiss, tasting her essence against his tongue as they move against one another. The chair creaks under the pressure of their fucking and he can’t imagine that it feels very comfortable.

He attempts to lift her in-between thrusts, but Katniss frantically shakes her head.

“No, just like this,” she gasps into his sweaty skin. Her legs spread away to wrap around his waist. “Won’t be long now…”

She feels too good, silk and sopping around his cock. Her grip on him is the perfect pressure and as he thrusts, Katniss arches up, bottoming out.

“Holy fuck, you’re amazing,” he groans. “There is no way in hell that I’m letting you go now.”

Hell, Peeta is already convinced that this woman with the dark waves and smoky eyes is the woman that he’s going to marry. In his mind’s eye, he already imagines her in a white dress…carrying her over the threshold of her dream home…of fucking her against every wall of the house…of filling her to the brim until she’s swollen with his child.

“Don’t let me go,” Katniss cries out, her insides beginning to flutter around him, and he juts his cock shallowly knowing that he’s going to spill inside her at any moment. “I wanted you since the moment I saw you…fuck….oh…” Her muscles pulsate around him and her pelvis rises to meet his thrusts.

Her cries are swallowed into the starry sky above them and Peeta watches her in the beauty of her climax. Her hair flows behind her, her skin glistening, and she’s smiles up, her eyes full of love.

She’s watching him, jaw clenched, as the sky above is suddenly illuminated by fireworks, creating a halo around him.

Peeta comes undone, filling her, his pelvis pressing to hers until he is spent.

After, he lays, pillowed against her chest, her hand smoothing down his mussed hair.

“I see stars…” she whispers against him.

“Annie must have said yes,” he explains. “I picked up the ring with Finnick today.”

Katniss snorts. “When Finnick does something, he goes hard.”

“So do I,” he tells her.

She kisses the top of his head. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’ll see.”

They are married three months later.

FIN.

#Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark Ficlet #Rated M #Modern AU #summerinthecity!Everlark

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 4 years

Text

Dating a tattoo artist

Imagine: being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

This was a fun idea I had. I hope you like it. Enjoy ❤️

Victor Creed

-he is here for it

-since his loooooonnnnggg life is well long he loves to tells stories of tattoo artists he met Japan, Brazil, New York, New Zeland...

-and you can bet that he will have the most elaborate tattoo you can think of since he said so

'You want a tattoo? From me?'

'Yes, I trust you.'

'That's the problem, Vic, you could end up with a dolphin tattoo on your arm.'

'.... Well... I still trust you?'

-after that, he was a little bug just to be on your good side which you took full advantage of

Being on top, commanding him? Sure

Handing you the remote even though it's next to you? Of course

Helping you choose an outfit even though you are indecisive and he has a short fuse? Hell yeah.

-when the day came you tattooed him a small quote that described him

"Tough times never last but tough people do"

(Robert H. Shuller)

'I love it. Thank you kitten.'

Loki Laufeyson

-Since he was in the cell for most of his life (in my universe that's the worst thing happening for him, he didn't die nor his mother) he doesn't know what a tattoo artist is he thinks that's an alternative art form he is supportive

-after you talk to him describing the definition of tattoos and the art behind it he is very much perplexed

'So mortals pay you to pierce their skin with black ink to paint...something????'

'Tattoo something on their skin and yes.'

'With pain in mind?????'

'Yes, and it looks awesome.'

-when he heard the story of your tattoo shop he decided to tag along to see the magic

-he saw how men and women tattooed others while they squirmed in their seats he chuckled at the sight of it

'Darling you could have told me.'

'What?'

'You torture people with the needle machines and coax them into paying you. Brilliant.'

'Suree~~~~'

-he stayed with you to help you with the pain giving without a medical license

'I'm a God. I'm above it.'

'No one is above the Inspection.'

Thor Odinson

-since his depression and weight gain he is very much informed of the world of MTV tattoo show "How far is tattoo far?"

-so he very much thinks that tattoos are a stamp of disgrace

-and keeping that in mind he is frazzled why are you doing a job like that

'You are a shame barer?'

'Shame-what...? Thor! I'm not. The show is a disgrace to the tattoo world.'

'Shame~~barer~~~'

'Just come with me and spend one day and see it for yourself.'

-Thor is reluctant much to his words but still, you sat him down in the waiting lobby he chats up the customers a.k.a big muscular dudes that are already tattooed from the neck down

'So... what is your shame? What horrible deed have you done to come here?'

'Excuse me!?'

'You must be here to condemn your shame by immortalizing it with a flesh sticker.'

-at this point, the muscle dude stood up ready to attack Thor but you intervene quickly

'Marc, stop!'

-the man turned around hiding his tight fist behind his back

'Y/n, already done? That's fast.'

'Marc, you know that you were released 7 months ago and you are still on parole. Come on. Stop it.'

'He insulted me and-and my tattoos. Your tattoos. You know how am about your work.'

-Thor hears that as stands up grabbing Marc's arm examining the tattoos in amazement

'My darling, I want that felsh sticker as he has.'

'.......... Sure........ Wait here. Let's go, Marc. I need to vent.'

Steve Rogers

-Steve knows what tattoos are since he has seen the stick and poke of his fellow soldiers but never a photorealistic tattoo in your portfolio

-he is very much intrigued how you made that look like a real person on someone's skin knowing very well there is no eraser

-loves to ask how do you achieve such colors that simply jump out or how you make a fabric that of a shirt or some patterns, he is armed with questions

-and since he is an art wizard himself he loves to have a painting duel with you, you paint on his skin with watercolors and he paints on the canvas

-that's one of his favorite moments

'What did you draw?'

'A dolphin kissing a penguin.'

'What?!'

'Just kidding I painted the building in Brooklyn where you lived.'

'Did I tell you how much I love you?'

Bucky Barnes

-this man thrives to see you fulfill your dream and passion

-especially when he picks you up, he parks the car exiting it and walking in seeing you talk to your employees and customers exchanging stories and laughs even though in the near distance is the buzzing sounds of the machine guns

-you see him and grab his hand giving him a peck on his lips as a cheeky grin is stuck on his face

-as you talk about your day he always asks the question

'Were there any wusses?'

-alluding to men who cried out form the stinging pain, eventually tapping out to take a break

'Yes, a big dude Marc. Ordered a neck tattoo with details. Tapped out in 15 minutes.'

'I knew it!'

-he enjoys in the hilarious stories you can make up... I mean tell

Bruce Wayne

-you already know the drill he has money he will give it to you but politely delined

-he tried to help with purest of heart but still, the answer was no

-he loved to see your shop filled with many customers as he walked incognito, sunglasses and a cap saying he wasn't a private appointment with the head tattooer

-Let's just say you were pretty much in tears of laughter as he reveled his face

'At least you tried, Bruce.'

-he loves to talk about tattoos and the process of healing if it's on top of a scar

-you are hooked on the conversation and even make him some sketches

'A huge dragon on your back with black and gold lining.'

'Okay but how about initials of my parents?'

'That sounds... Better much much better.'

-so the day of his tattooing comes you tattoo in his inner arm putting the letter T. & M. W.

'Thank you Princess.'

Clark Kent

-Clark loves to see the vast tattoos so much that he wants one but he knows that his body will "absorb" the tattoo too fast making it disappear in a few months maybe weeks

-but still, he loves to see how your gaze is sharp focused on the tattooing even when HE walks that is how much you are focused

'Alrighty, Marc you are done.'

'Thanks, Y/n, you are the best.'

-Clark also loves to hear the influx of comments of your artistry even if he's a little jealous

-he loves to see just how much you are happier to follow this insane passion

'You are an inspiration Y/n.'

'Why?'

'Because... You just are.'

Arthur Curry

-you already know that Fishman is tatted to perfection and he is here for a tattoo lover as well

-if you ever have someone asking for a Maori style tattoo Arthur will be a fair judge, that's what he says

Case#1

'Why do you want a Maori tattoo?'

'Um, sir beca-'

'It's Mr. Aquaman. Continue.'

'Oh, sorry. Mr. Aquaman, I want it because I find them cool.'

'Just cool? Do you think that the abundant culture of Maori people is cool? Go home boy.

Case #2

'You want a Ta Moko? Do you what that is?'

'Sur-sure, it's a tattoo of the Maori people.'

'Ufff... Do you know how much of a meaning Ta Moko carries? Why don't you go to the Yakuzas and get a tebori.'

'They would kill me.'

'Of course, and I'll whoop your uncultured ass with my two hands.'

-you turned to the now pale boy

'Run.'

-the man ran like the wind as the Aquaman caught him easily giving him a cultural lesson of Ta Moko

Orm Marius

-he kinda has a small soft spot for tattoos especially those with a loving meaning lover, family...

-and he likes to "inform himself" about it so he asks a ton of questions even asking what kind of tattoo would suit him

'I think a small red tattoo would suit your taste.'

'I like the tattoos who can hold audios.'

-with that sentence, he left you frazzled as you google and got the special ink kit gifting it to Orm as a present for being a nice guy and not killing anyone

-he immediately records his audio in secrecy and handing you the ink

-after you tattoo the ink you hand him your phone with the app to scan the audio

'Hey, Orm. I'm just reminding you that I love you. So much. It's Y/n if you forget... Somehow.'

-later that day you doused him with kisses

Joker

-that man oozes with tattoos *cough*damaged*cough*

-and you can bet that he wants more of them he brings into your home the whole tattoo parlor just so he can have a private session with sex mixed in

-you gladly tattoo him patching up some of his tattoos he has outgrown them

'Why did you tattoo Kick Me on your back?'

'I won a bet.'

'Are you sure you won?'

'For sake of this question I did.'

-you cover the kick me tattoo with a large red dragon with green eyes

-he stands up looking at the tattoo in the mirror

'Sweets, you just got a huge tip.'

Duncan Vizla

-for him, tattoo nowadays are dumb in his time tattoos were means of solidarity with people who are bounded by the same ink and gun

-but keeps his mouth shut about it not to offend your dream even if it's tattooing dancing hotdogs

-he loves to pass your parlor when he finishes grocery shopping just to see you in action

-he loves to arrive at the parlor if you are doing a night shift just to keep you safe and in good company

-he loves to bring you lunch and watch you eat it with such content and happiness

-it melts his heart and just wants to make you more food

-but as he is present for the good he is here for the bad

-if he is somewhere anywhere you just need to call him and he is there in a minute be it a drunken person not wanting to exit or an aggressive man trying to grope someone in the shop

-he is ready to kill them if you say so

'You okay sweetheart?'

'Um-yeah...Thank you Donut.'

'Nonsense. That's my duty.'

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 3 years

Text

Amy Lee Dives Into the Tragedies That Inspired Evanescence’s ‘The Bitter Truth’ — Exclusive Interview

Congrats on the release of The Bitter Truth — how are you feeling?

Thank you, I'm feeling so happy that it's out. It's hard to really sum it up — awesome feelings of satisfaction. I'm really happy that it's out there and everybody's listening to it, it's cool to see the fans react to it and dig into it. We're going to be releasing our video for "Better Without You" (which came out on April 16), I'm so excited about the video!

So we're in a good, happy place right now. Looking forward to when we can be together again, for sure.

Obviously this wasn't your first record, but is the first new, original material you guys have put out in about a decade. Do you still find it nerve-wracking when you release new music, especially when fans have been waiting awhile for something new?

(Laughs) Well, I don't find it nerve-wracking as far as anticipating a reaction, I'm mostly just excited for that. It's just getting back into the groove of doing a lot of press and promo, and running around. And it's different nowadays with the pandemic because it's like, "Do your own lighting! Do your own audio! Do your own everything," and like, make it work from home most of the time.

So it's been a lot of work, but when you're working for something that you really love, it's worth it. I mean, it's fun. So I'm feeling good.

Have you seen any fan theories about any of the songs come up at all, and were any of them accurate?

That's a good question. I can't think of something off the top of my brain like that. I don't know, I feel like mostly they're just getting it. But you ask me whatever you want, and I will answer to the best of my comfort zone (laughs).

How did all of the personal tragedies that the band went through, and all of the events that have been happening in the world impact this album?

Those two things are literally the biggest lyrical catalyst for this time and for this album, particularly the grief. That's what started the whole thing. We started writing this album, focused on it, in 2019, at the beginning of the year. And I'm so glad we did, we had a bunch of writing sessions throughout 2019 in between touring, we'd just get together when we could and write. I was writing on my own, but just setting aside time as a band to write.

I lost my brother in 2018 at the beginning of the year, so that was just a really, impossibly hard life change. So I think I've learned, yet again, that the biggest challenges and the biggest pains in my life are usually what lead me to music, and it's hard to admit this, but what tend to make the best work for me. Not just grief, but challenges — things that are hard.

And the whole world has been going through incredible challenges over the last year, the last couple of years actually with everything going on, the pandemic and the fight for democracy in the world. All of that came at the right time, where I was coming out of grief. I'm still living in it, but processing it, and then this fire and this fight became a part of it. So the journey through all of that, that is the majority of what the album's about.

You kind of hit the nail on the head there because I was going to ask if you think that the best art seems like it comes out of a place of sadness and pain, since it is so cathartic for artists. And as you've called it — it's "writing to heal." So do you find yourself gravitating toward music that is more emotional?

You know, I don't even know if I can say it's "the best," but it's the deepest. It's the most meaningful. You have to go through something to have something to say that is going to touch somebody on a deep level. And for me personally, music has always been my therapy, my catharsis, the place to pour it out and spin it into something good that I can love and reflect on.

Instead of running away from all of the hard things in life, if I dive into them through music and really start pouring it out and processing there, it's like you're able to make it worth something. It wasn't just all a waste, because I have seen, over the last 17 years, with interacting with our fans how much that it can mean to them and help them connect and process and be something good in their lives.

Knowing that now, too, was something that pushed me forward in the times when I felt like it was too hard. Knowing that we were all going through something and our fans were down too and hoping for something, we promised we were gonna come out with a new album in 2020. We just all kind of made a pact at the beginning of the year when everything started getting shut down that we weren't gonna let anything stop us.

So how was your experience writing this album versus others in the past, and how do you think you've grown as a songwriter and a musician this time around?

We had to be brave. And you know, I have to say, it's weird to connect it to this, but Synthesis taught us something about being brave and trusting that something would work that we'd never tried before and just going for it.

I have always been the person who over prepares, practices for way too long before we get together, has everything totally run through when we're gonna play a concert that we've done before a lot of times. And I have broken from that routine so much in the past years.

Synthesis was important for us because we had to trust every day, the only way to do it was to work with a different orchestra every night. Having a different group of musicians onstage every single night was the only way to make that happen. You don't have time to have rehearsed the whole entire set with that group that day, and then play that whole concert that night, it's just not possible.

So we were literally playing the majority of our sets on that tour for the very first time with that group of musicians — without a click and everything else — just live in front of the audience. It was literally like a tightrope, like there's no way to know if something's gonna go horribly wrong, and we just had to trust that we were gonna be good enough musicians and performers to handle it and look at each other, and work through it and get to the next place.

Man, it was so satisfying, it was such a good experience, and it was so beautiful and rewarding. Part of the takeaway from that for me was to be confident and not to be afraid, and just to trust that we've got it in us to do what it is that we think we can do, that we dream of.

This year, going into it, we just started breaking rules. Before the pandemic even hit it was like, 'We don't have the whole album written. We just have a few songs and a whole bunch of pieces. We're not going on tour 'til March." That actually didn't happen, but we weren't planning to go on tour until last March (laughs).

Why don't we hit the studio for just a couple of songs and avoid burn out of having to have all of the songs before we go in, "Let's just go in for a couple of songs." It went really well, it turned into four and then we had to be apart for the rest of the album.

It was another one of those moments where it's like, "Okay, we can either have faith and just say 'Fuck it, I don't know what's gonna happen with the pandemic or when we're ever gonna be able to go back and get together again in person. But I have faith that we're gonna find a way to work it out no matter what. So let's go ahead and start putting singles out.'"

It was either that or just wait and go, "Sorry everybody, I know we said we were gonna release music, but we're not going to." I didn't want to be another disappointment. There was so much of it last year, I wanted to be something that was proof that life could go on.

So the decision was just like, "Okay, we're gonna go ahead. We're gonna put out 'Wasted On You' and make a video from home, and then release another one in a couple of months." And it wasn't just about not knowing when we were gonna get back together, it was that the songs weren't written, and for me, that's terrifying. Like, before the songs are written, we're already on a promo schedule and talking about the album, releasing songs already and like, the clock is ticking in a way.

That was a lot of pressure to put on ourselves, but it really was just like, "We're just gonna have to have faith in this. I know we can do it somehow. We always do. In the end it works out, it's gonna work out!" And thank god it did, we finally got to get together, most of us, last end-of-July. Jen [Majura, guitarist], we still haven't seen since those first four songs right before the pandemic lockdown.

That's wild. I mean, it's out now, and it seems like it came just at the turning point in all of this with the vaccine and everything. Everybody's starting to get back on their feet.

Yeah, I think it's working out honestly. Because now, it's just come out and we can at least see the light at the end of the tunnel. Like you said, with the vaccines and stuff and getting back and eventually going on tour. Because the next thing that we're all just looking towards and dying for, is to play these songs live.

Absolutely. How do you think that these songs might translate live differently from anything you guys have done in the past?

It's just going to feel really good to have new material to play live, like so much of it. Because for so long, we've been playing shows a lot over the past, I don't know how many years, during this time that we haven't been putting out new music. So our live show has really just been about picking out hits and our favorites and whatever, and making set lists out of our music that's been there.

We finally have something that represents us now that isn't, there were a couple of songs on Synthesis, but literally since like 2011. We're a new band since then, a lot happened since then. So to put something out now that feels so exactly in tune with who we are, what our tastes are, what our abilities are, is just gonna feel really good. It's gonna be hard to play the old ones, honestly.

So let's dive into the album a little bit. Starting with the opener, I'm not sure if there's an actual significance to this or not, but is there a reason "Artifact" and "The Turn" are split into different parts?

They're different songs in my head, it was kind of a decision about the first bit, the second bit and "Broken Pieces Shine," like where the track markers were gonna go. And that was a tough choice for me because I know the majority of people aren't really listening in order on a CD, a lot of people are just plucking out a song.

So I want you to be able to click to "Broken Pieces Shine" and just hear the song, but it so needs that build-up, that's part of it in my mind. So it really was just a decision about clipping it.

The first part — "Artifact" — that's me in a hotel in the middle of the night on tour in 2019, just recording into my laptop. I just had an idea. We actually kept it and didn't re-record it, which was really weird, and I didn't expect to happen. But it just made sense in the end.

That next portion — "The Turn" — that's a collaboration between Scott Kirkland from the Crystal Method and myself. We just sorta met on tour one day and made friends, and decided, "Hey, send me stuff! I'd love to work with you, okay I'd love to work with you." And he sent me a bunch of stuff, and I sent him stuff. He had that bit of music sort of, and I rearranged it and wrote vocals to it and that turned into that part.

I knew early on that I wanted that into "Broken Pieces Shine" to be the beginning of the album because of the way the lyrics set it up. The first part, "Artifact," lyrically is just a dedication to my brother. I'm just gonna put it that simply — it's a dedication to my brother.

And then when "The Turn" starts, it's sort of just like this calling-us-back, like calling all of the spiritual forces in the universe back to ourselves and collecting all the pieces of who we've been, who we were, who we are and who we're gonna be.

After all this time that we haven't been out, it's like we need to just build into the moment where you finally hear the guitars come in. So that's part of it.

And then when "Broken Pieces Shine" happens... I've always sort of seen this album, the moment, like where it begins and what it's about, is it begins sort of at ground zero of a tragedy. The result of the album is about the journey getting back up.

So when I hear those guitars, and the first line starts, "There's no way back this time / What is real and what is mine / Survival hurts," it's like I see somebody face-down on the ground standing back up again and dusting off, clawing back up and then starting to walk forward and refuse to just lay there and die.

So that's the setup to the beginning of the album, and then the rest is plenty of ups-and-downs, and it's about plenty of things. But that's the beginning of the journey.

"The bitter truth" is a line that's repeated a couple of times throughout "Wasted on You." How did you go about choosing that as the title for the album, as opposed to any other phrase that's repeated throughout the album?

I think it really sums up a theme that we come back to a lot on the album, which is about facing the pain. The only way out is through, not just the pain, but facing the broken pieces, facing the things about ourselves and about our society that aren't perfect, that are flawed, that are broken or that are wounded.

Because we can't heal, we can't improve, we can't change, we can't grow and we can't ever leave the horror of the moment until we first accept the brokenness of ourselves. Until we accept that something's wrong, we can't fix it.

That song, "Wasted on You," that was one of the first ones that was really finished, and it was time to pick the album title and we were still writing songs. But it was already forming and I was like, "This sums up what we're talking about now and what we're going through in a really big way on an outward-in, inward level."

Based on the lyrics in "Wasted on You," do you consider yourself someone who has a hard time getting over things and moving on from things? What advice can you give to people who do struggle to move on from either failed relationships or a loss?

It's hard, because sometimes you're in a relationship that you just need to cut out of your life in order to move on. It's just true. It doesn't make you a bad person for you to just step completely away and cut somebody out of your life, and there are times I've had to do that. It sucks.

But you don't need to feel guilty about it if you're making a choice that's for health and stability and all of those things. But I think that we don't always have to do it that way either, and I do also think it's important to remember it's important not to just stuff stuff down like it never happened deep within yourself. I feel like it's better to hold onto your memories.

And even in those bad relationships, those bad breakups and those moments in time that you've had to move on from, I'm at a place in my life now where I'm not feeling anger anymore really. Not for the most part, even the people that were horrible (laughs). I'm not sitting around thinking about horrible, I wasn't able to actually still remember the good moments, too.

It's weird to say that. It took a really long time. But you only get one life. So I don't know, I try not to be the person who's constantly saying, "Oh that time was terrible, that person was terrible, everything about that was a monster," and flush it all away and forget about the parts about it that were why you were in that situation, too.

There's things that you need to move away from and then there's also things that you need to learn from, as well, so it's better not to forget, I guess is the right way to say it.

In "Yeah, Right," you talk about getting paid. Is that a literal reference to getting paid by an actual job, or is it in allusion to something deeper?

Uh, it's about money (laughs). I've seen money change people more often than I would've liked to. And it's always in a negative way.

Well I guess maybe this follows suit, does "Better Without You" happen to be about the music industry?

Part of it is, but it's not entirely about that. "Better Without You"... so each verse is dedicated to a different person or entity in my life along the way. And they go in order. I don't want to name-call, and I've carefully avoided doing that with this song and it's hard because they're about really specific things to me.

If you know me personally, then you know who it's all about. I don't really want to drag people into things many years later. So it starts out a long time ago (laughs) in the first verse with some battles there — a big one for independence. All of it was really a fight for independence.

The second one is the one that's more for the industry. And then the third one kind of brings us to today, in our world and the world around us. I sang the last few lyrics to "Better Without You," including the bridge, the day they called it for Biden. Not to make it political, because the song isn't really. But that was in my heart. I mean, "It's over. It's over now." Feeling it. And it felt so good to sing it knowing that it was true, at least in regards to Trump

Wow that's cool, I wouldn't have looked at it like that. There were a couple of songs where I was wondering if it was about a relationship or something on the grander scheme, and you letting go of that.

Yeah, it is. And it's funny because I don't want it to seem like it's all about the label. It's really not. That's been part of my journey, but there is stuff that's been way more personal than that, and harder. But when I say "the industry," it does mean more than the label. It's just the whole world of people that surround you when you're doing this.

And there was definitely more to it than the label that I was fighting against and struggling with during my journey, but one of the things that I remember being a threat at times was like, "If you don't do this or you don't do that, then it's just all gonna fall apart. You're not gonna have it. This is all gonna crumble. Everything that you have."

And I'm looking at it and going, "I don't want what I had. I want my future, I have an idea for something more." So the chorus, "As empires fall to pieces / Our ashes twisting in the air / It makes me smile to know that / I'm better without you," going like, "It's okay, go ahead. Let it burn down. Let the old idea of the tiny thing that you thought this could be go ahead and burn down because I have an idea for something bigger."

Can you explain the chorus of "Blind Belief," specifically the lines, "We hold the key to redemption / Let icons fall?"

This is another one that's a little bit in the political zone, or social. Why do we believe what we believe? Why do we do the things we do? Why are the laws that are in place, some of them aren't there for good reasons. Some things are just the way they are because they've always been that way.

And I think we've reached a time where we need to say, "That's not enough. We need to make changes that make sense for how much our world and our awareness has grown, and how we need to be better." We need to improve over time and not just leave things the way that they are.

I was actually writing those lyrics, being inspired by the Confederate statues coming down. We can still love our ancestors even if they made mistakes, and we can actually love them better, we can actually do better for our world. It doesn't have to be a betrayal if your grandparents thought differently than you.

We can only grow by moving forward and making better and better decisions as the generations go on. And if we want this place to get better, then we need to admit that things are wrong!

Saying "We hold the key to redemption" is saying you don't have to stand by something that's wrong. Go ahead and let icons fall! Just because something is the way it is and it's always been that way doesn't make it right. We should be asking those questions, and sometimes change is good. It's nothing to be afraid of.

To wrap up, of all of the topics that you cover on The Bitter Truth, what are you hoping at the end of the day that people will take away from this album as they sit with it?

I hope they feel empowered, I really do. I didn't go into this writing process feeling empowered, I started to feel that way through the process. It starts from feeling human, feeling vulnerable, feeling fragile and feeling broken.

But as I start to work, especially together with my friends, with people that support me and I support them, having a band is a really cool thing. Just having something to work on together last year and the year before, amidst the pain and the loss and the frustration, just made it so much better. It was such a healing thing for all of us, and I'm hoping that that same healing and empowered feeling can spread to those who listen to it. I really do.

Instead of just wallowing in grief, we found a way through the music to feel strength and inspiration and hope for something better in the future. I think, if there's a punchline, the biggest thing is that life is worth living.

I think that's something that people need to hear right now, because there has been so much to just feel sad about, so much to feel depressed and frustrated about and helpless, without a voice. Like, "It doesn't even matter what you do, I'm just one little drop in the bucket." But it's not true, that's a lie. We are strong, and change is happening.

And the greatest losses that we can imagine, we actually can overcome and there can still be good things left in life to experience, you just don't know what they are yet. If it can be empowering and spread hope to people, that's what I would most hope for.

#Amy Lee #Evanescence #2021 interviews

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sapphirewolf1122 · 4 years

Text

Daydreams

Summary: Deku starts lusting after you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

Word Count: 2,519

Izuku has had a huge crush on you.

At first, you were just a coworker. The two of you had started together at Nighteye’s agency after graduating high school; though it had been taken over by Centipeder after Nighteye passed, it was hard for Deku to think of it as anybody else’s.

While Deku had started off as a sidekick, you were an intern combat trainer; you were a master martial artist and wanted to learn to help train heroes.

Though Izuku hadn’t had much interaction with you at first, soon you both bonded over the difficulty of meeting the demands of a new job. He soon found out that you had ulterior motives for being here. You wanted to move your way up in the agency and eventually try to get a hero's permit.

Your quirk was Daydreams; you had the ability to catch glimpses of another person’s desires.

It worked best if you were touching them or if they were daydreaming at the moment but otherwise, you could still get enough information to use it against them through illusions. You could cause the daydreamer to see what they desire right in front of them, distracting them.

But your parents hadn’t believed that it was something that would be any good for hero work and therefore hadn’t let you apply to a hero course. Still, you kept at it, figuring out how to best utilize your quirk in a fight while also exploring multiple fighting styles.

You actually reminded Izuku a lot of Shinsou, perhaps with a more upbeat personality. But the fact that you’d had to persevere with less of a flashy quirk was something that Deku found really admirable. And he found talking to you strangely easy, something he’d never experienced when speaking to a girl. Perhaps hanging out with the girls from his class had really helped him!

He didn’t even really know he liked you until one day, he was talking to you and he started wondering what it would be like to kiss you. He had a very vivid image of just leaning in and doing so right then and there. Maybe he would start off slow, and then build it up as he—

Izuku shook his head vehemently as he tried to shake the image. You looked at him with confusion.

“Are you okay, Deku?” you asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Y-yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be okay? Totally fine!” he tried to laugh it off but stopped when he saw that you didn’t seem convinced. “Uuuh...are you okay?”

That caused you to laugh, making him sigh in relief. “I’m fine, Broccoli Head. Let’s go, you have to get ready for that mission and I have some training to do.”

You got up and started walking towards the locker rooms. Izuku trailed behind you, watching as you walked. His eyes traveled up your legs, landing on your butt. It was rather nice to watch you walk, to observe how your butt moved, how the curve of your cheek....what the hell was wrong with him?

He should consider himself lucky that you didn’t make a habit of using your quirk needlessly, otherwise you would surely never let him hear the end of. It could even mean the end of your friendship!

~~~~

You were sparring with one of the pros at the agency, working mainly on hand-to-hand combat. With how dedicated you’d been to your martial arts studies, even some of the long-time pros had some difficulty keeping up with you.

Right now, you had the upper hand. Your opponent was a large man who focused too much on brute strength than actual technique. You decided to practice using your quirk while fighting and mentally reached out to your opponent. However, you couldn’t get much off of him; he was too focused on the fight. In order to get a proper reading, you’ll need to make contact for a few moments.

However, before you could move in to do so, you were caught off guard by a sudden image flashing in your mind. This caused you to hesitate and you just barely managed to dodge out of the way of a wide blow by your opponent.

What was that?

It reminded you of when you were still getting the hang of your quirk. You’d tended to get random flashes from the people around you, especially during class when daydreaming was usually at its peak. But nowadays, it normally caused a very vivid daydream for it to just pop into your head like that; yes, you’d activated your quirk but you’d had a specific focus.

Before you could shake it off, however, the image flashed again. This time, you caught sight of a set of hands holding onto a waist, seemingly lifting the person up.

This time, you had to perform a roll in order to get out of the way and called a time out. Your opponent asked if you were okay, clearly having noticed that you’d been distracted.

You nodded, saying that you just needed a break.

Going to grab your water bottle, you looked around the workout room. There were several people, so the vision could’ve come from anybody. As you scanned the room, you caught sight of Deku at the entrance, still in his hero costume. Did he come straight here from a mission? Did the man never rest?

You noticed that his face was slightly flushed, likey from the mission. Smiling at him, you waved; you looked forward to talking to him about the mission. You’d enjoyed getting to know him over the last few months. He was kind of awkward but in a cute, sweet way. He sheepishly waved back and something about his scarred hand made you hesitate before moving on. But you just shook it off and took a swig of your water.

You didn’t notice as Izuku turned from you in shame, his already flushed face becoming even redder until he resembled a strawberry. He really needed to do something about those daydreams.

~~~~

“Hey, Deku! There you are!”

At the sound of his name, Izuku turned to see you running towards him. It took all the willpower he possessed not to let his jaw drop. You were only wearing a sports bra and shorts, clearly fresh from a workout.

He could see as drops of sweat slid down several parts of your very toned body. All he wanted to do was wrap his hands around your waist and pull you close. Maybe even push you up against the wall as he kissed you up your whole body, licking the sweat as he did—

“Uuuh… Deku?”

He jumped as you said his hero name again. “Aaaah, s-sorry, guess I just kind of spaced out for a bit! I have a big mission coming up and you know how I can get, haha…”

You blinked at him. “Yeeaah...anyway, it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever, not even in the workout room. You doing okay?”

“Oh, y-yeah. You know how it gets; I haven’t really had a lot of free time.”

You nodded at that, knowing that this was common among all heroes, especially sidekicks. “Well, do you have any free time now? I’d love to talk about what you’ve been up to! Plus, I got to tell you this thought I had for my quirk!”

Izuku backed away slightly. “Ah, not really. Like I said, big mission and I have to study up on some files…”

“Oh, okay. Of course, sorry.” He noted the slightly dejected look on your face, even a flash of hurt. Oh no, had he done that? He couldn’t bear the thought that he could have hurt your feelings.

“But I’d love it if you came with me on Saturday!” he found himself saying. You perked up at that.

“What’s on Saturday?”

“I’m meeting up with some of my classmates from UA. I don’t know if you’d be interested in going to a gathering with a bunch of strangers—”

You leaned in, grabbing his hands. “Are you kidding? I’d love to meet some of your classmates! I bet you all have so many cool stories!”

Izuku stared down at your joined hands, his face once again resembling a strawberry. “R-right. Well anyway, I should get going.” He quickly pulled his hands from yours. “I’ll see you soon.” And with that, Deku practically sprinted away.

You watched him go and then looked down at your hand. You’d caught another flash when you’d grabbed hold of him. Since your quirk was more sensitive to touch, strong daydreams could make their way in even if you weren’t actively using your quirk.

Looking back up at Deku, your eyes narrowed in his direction, not really believing it. Did Deku…? But he was Deku, he didn’t think like that. Did he?

~~~~

Izuku was lying in his bed, staring up at his ceiling. As he did, he imagined what it would be like to have you there with him. How he would hug you close and then begin to kiss you. He could imagine the arch of your body, the feel of your skin as he made his way down your legs, gently coaxing the hem of your pants down…

With a slight sense of shame, he grabbed at the lotion next to his bed, his mind continuing to wonder at all the ways he could show you how much he wanted you.

Of all the ways he would try to please you.

His fingers intertwined with yours, holding onto to you tightly and never letting you go.

~~~~

You were at the bar with Deku, laughing with his friends as they told you stories of all the trouble he’d gotten into over the years.

“How often did he fight with Bakugo?” you exclaimed.

Iida sighed in exasperation as Ururaka giggled. “At one point, it seemed at least once a week. It became more intense after Midoryia actually beat him for the first time.”

“Tsk. I didn’t fucking let him get away with it either! I made sure to beat him next time!” yelled Bakugo.

“Didn’t he beat you last time the two of you sparred, kero,” interjected Tsu, who you found to be absolutely adorable.

Bakugo slammed his hand down on the table, causing a few small explosions to go off. “I’ll fucking go right now!”

“Not here, Kacchan. This is no place to be sparring,” said Deku quietly. You glanced over at the green-haired man; he’d been pretty quiet the whole time. His face was flushed from alcohol.

You could feel yourself getting pretty tipsy as well. You could especially tell because images were starting to filter into your mind as your control of your quirk slipped. Maybe you should drink a few glasses of water...ooh, perhaps something greasy to eat as well!

Standing up to look for the bartender, you lost your balance slightly and reached out to steady yourself. At the same time, Deku reached out to you, grabbing your hand. At that moment, several images flew through your mind.

You saw Deku. He was holding someone, in what looked like the exact bar that you were in now, except it was empty. As you watched, he hoisted the person up, kissing them as he laid them down on the table. Once he had them down, he started trailing his lips down the length of their body until he was at the hem of their pants.

“Deku, what are you doing?” you heard the person ask. The voice sounded familiar.

“I’m showing you how much I want you.” The young hero’s voice was huskier than normal.

Was...was that you? And him? What were you doing?

Suddenly, the scene changed so that you were now watching them in bed.

Deku was kissing your body again, caressing your breasts as he buried his face in your neck, biting it softly. Yet again bringing himself down, he slipped off your underwear and started kissing your inner thighs. He grazed his teeth lightly as he got closer to you.

Finally, he went down on you. Kissing your folds gently, he used his fingers first before using his tongue to—whooooaaa!

You snatched your hand away, your alcohol-infused mind trying to process what you’d just seen. So your suspicion had been right...Deku liked you! A lot apparently…

“Are you okay, ___?” You turned to the hero, blinking at him slightly. Deku liked you...and thought of you in a very different type of way that you hadn’t been expecting. How long? How often?

It took you a moment before you realized that you really didn’t mind. You liked that he thought of you like that. Hm...you wondered if you could use this to your advantage....you smiled evilly.

“I’m perfectly fine, Deku,” you said, leaning into him, your hand on his arm. “I’m going to get something to eat, you want anything?” You met his eyes.

He looked down at your hand. “Uh...n-no, I’m good.”

“Okay,” you replied sweetly, trailing your finger up his arm as you walked to the bar.

The rest of the night, you did everything you could think of to mess with the bumbling hero. You’d lean on him, flirt with him, trail your fingers along his hands, tracing the scars….you found you rather liked being close to him like this. You were actually starting to get annoyed that he wasn’t picking up what you were putting down.

Later that night, he was walking you home. You were walking pretty close to him, your arm brushing against his. You were considering grabbing onto his hand when the two of you reached your apartment.

After a few moments of silence, he awkwardly waved at you. “Well...good night.”

Ugh, you couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed at his hand, stopping him from walking away. “Seriously, that’s all you’re gonna say to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been flirting with you all night. Just kiss me already, I know you want to!”

“Whaaaat? When did I—”

You rolled your eyes. “I saw it.”

Deku blinked at you for several moments before he finally seemed to get it and he immediately started panicking, bowing to you fiercely. “I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t be having those thoughts, I’ve tried to stop them, I swear, I would never do anything like that, I pro—”

You suddenly pushed him against the wall, effectively shutting him up as you got in very close. “You better not finish that sentence. I wouldn’t want you to become somebody who has to break his word.”

Before Deku could ask what you meant, you kissed him, deeply. Though he was clearly shocked, he hesitated for only a moment before kissing you back. Backing away for a moment, you whispered breathlessly, “Now how about you show me what you’ve been wanting to do to me.”

His green eyes widened and then became set with a fierce determination. You squealed as he hoisted you up and spun so that it was your back against the wall.

“Finally.”

#midoryia izuku #izuku mydoria #izuku midoria x reader #bnha izuku #deku midoryia #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha deku #bnha fanfiction #reader #reader has a quirk #midoryia smut #mha #my hero academia #deku x reader

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passionate-reply · 3 years

Video

youtube

This week on Great Albums, we talk about something a little more recent, but still old enough to be a classic. Can you believe that John Maus’s We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, is turning ten years old already? Yes, 2011 was that long ago...and so were my high school years. Come check out this lo-fi synthwave masterpiece! Transcript below the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! So far in this series, we’ve looked at a lot of older albums, and that’s by design. While I listen to, and love, plenty of more recent music and younger artists, I’ve decided to focus Great Albums on works that are at least ten years old. That’s partly because I think that having some distance from when albums were released lets us situate them in fuller context, and take their legacy into consideration. It’s also partly because so much of the music criticism that’s out there is focused, somewhat myopically, on only the newest and hottest releases, when there’s so much amazing music to be discovered outside of that purview.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get on to discussing today’s album: John Maus’s We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, which was released in 2011, one decade prior to this video. It’s an album that was very significant to me as a teenager, when it was new, and one that I think will go on to be seen as one of the most important electronic albums of this decade.

Before releasing his arguable magnum opus, John Maus had two LPs under his belt, Songs and Love Is Real. They earned him some cult followers, but also attracted substantial derision and disdain. While many elements of Maus’s signature sound are present, such as lo-fi production, atmospheric washes of synth, and lyrics that straddle the line between pithy and biting, I’d characterize these releases as being very...rough around the edges.

Music: “Too Much Money”

“Too Much Money,” off of Love Is Real, is tantalizingly close to a pop song, but its truly shocking bridge seems almost deliberately crafted to shatter our ability to enjoy it as such. Maus had initially set out to be an experimental, outsider musician, but he soon became more interested in the tradition of pop, particularly after meeting his longtime friend and artistic collaborator, Ariel Pink. It was in that pop spirit that Maus created We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, and the resultant increase in accessibility is what made his third album so different--and so much more successful. There’s a certain charm that only comes from an outsider attempting to do pop, a fusion of intuitive mass appeal, and an intuitive, unschooled process of creation. This album has that in abundance.

Music: “Hey Moon”

While “Hey Moon” is one of Maus’s best-known tracks, it’s actually a cover, and was originally penned by singer-songwriter Molly Nilsson. It’s a very simple, and very pop, composition, and it’s easy to see how it embodies the sort of straightforward songwriting Maus had in the back of his mind while creating the album. But it fundamentally lacks the signature oddness of Maus, and I think that leaves it as the least interesting track here. With everything else going on, “Hey Moon” feels all the more plain and banal in comparison.

Music: “...And the Rain”

Listening to “...And the Rain,” it’s easy to hear how strongly Maus was also influenced by Classical and Medieval composers. Besides those organ-like synth textures, Maus is also inspired by the Medieval modes, and pre-tonal ideas about melody. Whenever contemporary music uses slightly older synthesiser technology, and/or that lo-fi production, many people become preoccupied with using ideas of 80s nostalgia and retro chic to understand it. I think this album has less to do with “old school cool” and more to do with the spectre of the past as something faded and ineffable, accessible only through the dim consolations of memory. Consider “Quantum Leap,” which presents us with a hazy dream of time travel, contrasted with the “dead zone” of the present.

Music: “Quantum Leap”

In “Quantum Leap”’s more strident moments, I like to think that a whiff of the in-your-face abrasiveness of “Too Much Money” remains. But rather than scornful and vitriolic, it comes across as the overwhelming splendour of divine mystery, thanks to its appropriation of Medieval church music. There are many antecedents of what Maus is doing with it, from the tradition of goth to the work of other electronic musicians like John Foxx, but what Maus really excels at is weaving together the sacred and the profane, and getting us to forget which is supposed to be which. For a more splendid example of that, look no further than “Matter of Fact”:

Music: “Matter of Fact”

Yes, you heard that correctly--this song’s only lyrics are, “pussy is not a matter of fact.” I’m tempted to compare this laconic number to some of Maus’s earlier pieces that seem to satirize easily spouted slogans of social change, such as “Rights For Gays.” The core assertion here could be interpreted as a rebuttal of essentialism with regards to gender and sex, or perhaps of toxic masculinity, and the idea of a man feeling entitled to a woman’s body and sexuality. But its ambiguity, and possible meaninglessness, are, I think, part of what makes it so effective. Still, as far as transgressive lyricism goes, the use of the term “pussy” here pales in comparison to the preceding track, “Cop Killer.”

Music: “Cop Killer”

Maus has described himself as extremely left-wing, but he’s also consistently maintained that his music isn’t meant to be interpreted through a strictly political lens. But however much Maus insists that “Cop Killer” is “really” about metaphorical cops, its seemingly blatant call for violence feels obscene. Ten years ago, “Cop Killer” was shock art, and an expression of the unsayable. But in the past year, more and more people have opened up to criticism of police brutality, and police as an institution. “Cop Killer” has been re-evaluated and re-contextualized, and interest in the track has surged. It’s had a degree of vindication that most provocative and challenging art will never see, no matter how powerful.

Given Maus’s frequent emphasis on ideas of criminality, justice, and the punitive arm of the government, I’m tempted to interpret the lighthouse featured on the cover of We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves as a reference to the “panopticon” prisons designed by the Enlightenment thinker Jeremy Bentham. Bentham proposed prisons, and other state buildings, in which a single observation tower stood watch over people to be controlled. Prisoners cannot tell when, and if, they are being observed, and thus are forced to live as though they are under constant surveillance, and internalize the structures of social control. The panopticon has often been used as a symbol of how structures of discipline and punishment affect the psyche of those who live within them, most famously by the 20th Century philosopher Michel Foucault.

But this is, of course, me using political theory to try and pin Maus down! We can also set this aside and appreciate the cover design for its aesthetic ambiance. Its fog and tumultuous sea evoke the wild or unrefined qualities of the music, but the bright and piercing light of the lighthouse suggest a firm and directed focus, not unlike Maus’s stated goal of creating bona fide pop.

The album’s ponderous title doesn’t actually appear on the associated artwork. This isn’t so uncommon nowadays, but when physical media was more central to music consumption, it was a self-sabotaging move that few but New Order ever got away with. Maus was one of the first artists I became aware of who chose to omit text from album art, and it struck me as a very bold and forward-thinking adaptation to an increasingly digital world. Maus nicked the title “We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves” from the work of the philosopher Alain Badou, under whom he studied at university. Like that piercing ray of light, it seems to suggest a pruning away of impurities, and a recalibration or refocusing of one’s energies. It applies equally well to the idea of becoming sanctified or purified in the presence of the holy, or, more prosaically, to Maus’s newly pop-oriented artistic direction.

After the success of We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, Maus’s follow-up was, essentially, the 2012 compilation, A Collection of Rarities and Previously Unreleased Material, which featured assorted tracks he had written throughout the preceding decade. Over the next few years, Maus chose to isolate himself from the public eye, claiming to not see himself continuing a career in music, and instead pursuing a Ph.D. in political science. He eventually returned, however, and released a fourth LP in 2017, entitled Screen Memories. Screen Memories would continue the focus on hooky and accessible melodies, while also increasing the use of guitar and bass to bring Maus’s sound a bit closer to rock.

Music: “Touchdown”

While Maus hasn’t put down any new material since Screen Memories, he has made himself substantially more notorious quite recently, by having been present at the attempted coup at the United States Capitol Building in January of 2021. Given Maus’s aforementioned radical leftism, and his cryptic, but seemingly anti-fascist oriented tweets afterward, it seems unlikely that Maus actually supported the insurrection, but the incident continues to cast a shadow over his reputation, at least for the time being. Whether Maus is ever truly rehabilitated or not, and wherever his true intentions and sympathies lay, his music has certainly left an indelible mark. We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves was a watershed moment for this idea of lo-fi, electronic pop, with a gothic and mysterious aura to it, and I don’t think this sound would be so commonplace in today’s musical landscape without what John Maus had accomplished, ten years ago.

My favourite track on We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves is “Head For the Country.” Its stirring and anthemic refrain is one of the most emotionally powerful moments on the album, particularly when juxtaposed with its lyrical themes of feeling confined by society’s rules, and its return to the idea of criminality or deviance. It's probably too intense and overbearing to ever pass for an ordinary pop hit...but who’s keeping score? That’s everything for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “Head For the Country”

#music #great albums #album review #album reviews #synthwave #lo fi #lo-fi #john maus #indie #indie pop #indietronica

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