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randomfandom815 · 4 years

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Defending the women of LOST/Sexism in LOST

People say they don’t like Kate Austen because she’s “annoying” “can’t choose between Jack and Sawyer” “always wants to join every single mission”. Kate has way bigger things to worry about than sorting out her romantic feelings. Yes, she is developing feelings for both Jack and Sawyer, but she doesn’t have time to figure them out while trying to survive on the island. And the fact that people don’t like her because of the whole “I’m coming with you” thing is a little ridiculous, because they’re hating Kate for wanting to protect her friends and do whatever she can to help. You know who else does that? Jack. But plenty of people love him for those very same reasons. Yeah, a lot of Kate’s character was centered around the love triangle, but that isn’t the character’s fault, it the writers’s.

Then there’s Claire Littleton. People always complain about her “my baby!” thing, but... she only actually says that a few times, AND, if your child was taken from you or you thought your child was going to be hurt, wouldn't you be worried out of your mind? Wouldn’t you want to do anything to help them? People also criticize Claire for her entire Season 6 arc. She was alone, on the island, thinking everyone had abandoned her, with only the MIB for company. She was also tortured by the temple Others, who she thought had taken her child. Claire was a single mother who just wanted to keep her son safe, give her a break.

Sun-Hwa Kwon is a character who actually doesn’t receive that much hate, but there is still the fact that people don’t like her because she left Ji Yeon to go back to the island for Jin. Here’s the thing: Sun had no way of knowing what was would happen on the island. She had no way of knowing that Jin had time traveled to the past, and she had no way of knowing what would happen with the MIB/Locke. She thought that she would be able to go to the island, bring Jin and the others back, and the two of them would reunite with Ji Yeon. And then in the submarine incident, Sun didn't want Jin to stay. She wanted him to live and take care of Ji Yeon. It was Jin who made the decision to die with her, not Sun.

Shannon Rutherford is a very unlikable character. Even I don’t enjoy her character, or Boone, and that is a view shared by many other people in the fandom. Many people call her selfish, spoiled, and just plain rude. And she was all of those things, but that wasn’t her entire character. Remember, they had all just been through a plane crash, landed on an island with no chance of rescue. Also, friendly reminder that she was only 20 years old. She was scared, and her way of coping with that was to try to do something normal. Let’s not forget, in Pilot, Part 2, she volunteered to go on the mission to fix the transceiver. She was constantly feeling useless, and it didn’t help that other characters, especially Boone, were constantly putting her down and mocking her. When she started to see Walt, she genuinely made an attempt to help him, even though she wasn’t sure if he was even there. Her death was untimely, and I wished we had gotten to see her grow more as a person. Also, her death was used for shock value and to further Sayid’s character development.

And now, one of the most hated characters of LOST, Ana Lucia Cortez. Now, while the characters I mentioned above were shit on and criticized, Ana Lucia was absolutely hated by the fandom. People hated her attitude, her toughness, her dislike of most of the people around her, and the fact that she killed Shannon (who, by the way, was just as disliked by many Ana Lucia haters). You know who else has a similar attitude? Who has that same toughness and dislike of people? Who else killed someone? That would be Sawyer, a fan-favorite, white male character who is beloved by the fandom. Now, for the last point, what I am comparing here is Ana Lucia killing Shannon to Sawyer killing the man he thought was Frank Sawyer in Australia, right before flight 815. Ana Lucia killed Shannon because she was trying to protect the people she was leading (including Sawyer!) from who she thought was the Others, and killing Shannon was an accident. Sawyer killed the man completely on purpose and out of revenge. Oh, and it wasn’t even the right person. Yes, I am aware of the man Ana killed long before flight 815 out of revenge, but if we can take her very small amount of character development, in which she refused to kill Henry Gale, a known Other at that point. Whereas Sawyer was still willing to kill a bunch of people in Season 6, the end of his character arc. And yet, Sawyer is still in most people’s top five characters lists (just to be clear, I do not hate Sawyer at all, and this is not anti Sawyer but pro Ana Lucia). You may argue that people love Sawyer because of his character development, which I do agree with. However, Ana Lucia was never given the chance to have Sawyer-like character development because she was killed off in the same season that she was introduced in. She wasn’t even allowed to be in the church in the flash-sideways, and she didn’t get to “move on.” Ana Lucia deserved way better than the death for shock value that she got.

Next up on the list is Juliet Burke. She, like Sun, also isn’t the target of a lot of hate, but there are still things that need defending. The first thing is, of course, her sudden change of mind when it came to detonating the hydrogen bomb in Season 5. Yes, it was selfish of her to endanger everyone on the island just because of the way Sawyer looked at Kate. But if the plan did actually work, which she thought it would, that meant she would lose everything she had gained over the past few years, including Sawyer. Juliet is incredibly kind and feminine while also being badass at the same time, which is amazing because you don’t usually see those two traits coinciding (usually a badass character isn’t very feminine and a “traditionally feminine” character isn’t a good fighter). As for all of her motives in Season 3, Juliet was trapped on the island for three years. All she wanted to do was leave and go home to her sister. Yes, she manipulated Sun, but right after that, she made things right by helping Jack make a plan to stop the Others. Her death was heroic, and I’m glad she was finally able to be happy in the flash-sideways. (I am declining to mention her whole relationship with Goodwin and all the drama with Ben, although I might dive into that in another post).

Now, the character Rose Nadler has almost nothing that needs to be defended. She is a constant wise voice of reason who isn’t concerned with the drama of the rest of the survivors. Her relationship with her husband Bernard is very sweet, but she doesn’t let that stop her from doing the smart thing (like stopping his SOS sign idea). Not only that, but Rose has one of the best (and most meta) lines on the show: “If you say live together, die alone to me, Jack, I’m going to punch you in the face.”

Another character who doesn't need much defending is Charlotte Lewis, but not for the same reason as Rose. Charlotte was done dirty by the writers. Of the science team, she is the least fleshed out and explored. She had a single flashback and a little bit of exposition information from Ben, but that’s pretty much it. Every significant thing she did was for the sake of other characters. She had a fake-out death so Ben would reveal that he had a spy on the boat. She was taken to the Barracks so that members of Jack’s group would have a reason to go there. Her going to the Barracks was also an excuse to get Miles and Kate there. And she only died/was dying for shock value, to up the stakes of the time flashes, to provide more questions to the characters and the audience, and to further Daniel’s character development. In the flash-sideways, all she did was go on a date with Sawyer and further his character development. She didn't get to go to the church and move on. Daniel and Miles, the other members of her team, on the other hands were given compelling backstories and centric episodes.

Penelope Widmore is similar to Charlotte in that there isn’t much to defend because she doesn’t do much that affects the plot. Nearly everything she does is about Desmond, and the writers barely even gave her a personality. I’m sure Penny was an actually interesting person, if they had bothered her to give her any storyline that didn't involve her love interest.

Danielle Rousseau is a character that kind of slides in and out of the story as needed. Now, Danielle isn’t the subject of a lot of criticism just because she isn’t very focused on, but from what I have seen, here’s what I have to say: Danielle was alone on the island for sixteen years. And for sixteen years, she had to live with the knowledge that she was forced to kill the man she loved and her team. Not to mention the fact that her daughter, Alex, was taken away from her when she was just a week old. Can you blame Danielle for being paranoid? Her death was not a fair end to the character, and it was only used to kill off Danielle quickly and provide shock value.

Her daughter, Alex Rousseau, is similar to Charlotte and Penny in that she doesn’t need to be defended because everything she does is to affect other characters. In this case, those characters are Ben and Danielle (especially Ben in the later seasons). Danielle’s entire character is centered around the fact that she lost Alex and has been searching for her, and Ben’s motivations after Season 4 are largely motivated by Alex’s death. She herself doesn’t have much of a character arc, and her death was only to provide shock value and further Ben’s character development.

Another character that falls into the category of not having much to defend because every action is for someone else is Libby Smith. Once the tailies and the main survivors joined together, she was almost immediately shoved in a relationship with Hurley. The only things we knew about her backstory were that her husband died, she was a clinical psychologist, she was in the same mental hospital as Hurley, and she gave Desmond a boat. That’s it. She didn’t have a centric episode, and she only appeared in other people’s flashbacks. Her death was only to provide shock value and further Hurley’s character development, as well to show that Michael betrayed the survivors.

Notice how many of these women died for shock value and/or to further a man’s character development? Notice how many of these women are disliked for traits that other characters are loved for? Notice how many of them barely exist as their own character without a man? I love LOST, I really do, but their treatment of female characters needed a lot of improvement.

#lost #lost tv show #abc lost #lost tv series #fandom sexism #sexism in fandom #kate austen #claire littleton #sun-hwa kwon #shannon rutherford #ana lucia cortez #juliet burke #rose nadler #charlotte lewis #penelope widmore #penny widmore #danielle rousseau #alex rousseau #libby smith

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girlofmanyfandoms · 4 years

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Advocates

A/n: So, I feel bad for not posting lately, here’s my AU where I take a slightly different take on the Keeper of the Lost Cities series. A few changes that I’m trying to make: more friendship-based, no love triangle, probably more gay, more racially diverse cast (without any harmful stereotypes). I’ll try to stay true to each character’s personality!

I’ll also take this time to say there’s stuff I haven’t released yet, so tell me if you want me to release those!

Disclaimer: This is in no way hating on Shannon’s series, I just wanna see where the story would go if we took a slightly different approach!

Warnings: I didn’t edit this at all-

Word count: 2868

Tag list: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty @linhammon-roll-bromance101 @linhamon-roll @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhamon2 @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart

Let me know if you want to be added or if I forgot to tag you!

“Uh, no boys, she’s sitting with me.”

Jensi raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with her sitting here, Marella?”

“Nothing! I just need to pull her to the side for some girl talk.” Marella pulled Sophie’s sleeve, navigating across the cafeteria to an empty booth in the corner. Sitting down and adjusting herself, she extended a hand. “Marella Redek. No nicknames. I know the ins and outs of everything around here.”

“Sophie Foster,” Sophie introduced, shaking her hand, though her response came out as a murmur. She brushed her hair out of her face, trying to shrink as small as possible. “But I’m sure you knew that.”

Marella nodded. “You must’ve caused the Council a lot of trouble if you’ve gotten your way into Level Two right after being with humans. What was it like, by the way?”

“Pretty normal, I guess. Well, not for me, I was a highschool senior at 12, and my parents wanted me to attend community college instead of an Ivy League. Even the newspapers were talking about it, and that ticked my parents off big time.”

“What?”

“I know, crazy, right?” Sophie started digging into her lunch. “Why would the news choose a story about a child over actual breaking news?”

“No, I meant those words you used. A high school, college, a new paper? What do they mean?”

“Oh, that’s right! Those are more human terms, sorry,” Sophie apologized. “There are levels of human school: Preschool, which is usually ages 1 to 4, elementary school is from ages 5 to 10, middle school is ages 11 to 13, high school is ages 14 to 17, and college is at least four years, and gives you the certification you need to get a good paying job. Newspapers are just mini books made completely of paper that tell you what’s going on in the world.”

“Oh,” Marella said, looking off into the distance. “I guess I never really thought that human school would be so different from Foxfire. We just have these levels, and then the elite levels. What was your human family like?”

Sophie tugged out an eyelash, which didn’t go unnoticed on Marella’s end. “U-um-“

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be pushing you so much on your first day. I should be helping you adjust.” She toyed with her food. “So, how’s our world been for you so far?”

“A little overwhelming,” Sophie admitted. “I don’t feel half as glamorous as anything around me. We don’t exactly have crystal houses and fancy ball gowns in San Diego.”

“You don’t?” Marella shook her head vigorously. “Right. Sorry. Let’s get back on track. Anything you think you’ll need to know that I can help you with?”

Sophie clutched her knees, now rolled up into a ball. This Marella girl was a bit intense at first, but maybe she wasn’t so bad. After all, she had saved her from sitting with some yes-boys. The declared leader of them seemed friendly, but a little too hyper. No, she decided, Marella wasn’t half bad. “I don’t know. Anything really, you know best.”

“Alright, then. This place is sort of a maze, try to find someone with a similar schedule to you so you can walk together until you know your way around. You know Stina Heks?”

Sophie shivered and nodded, thinking back to seeing her raging through the halls screaming about someone making her bald. She could’ve sworn she heard her say “Disney,” too.

“Stay away from her. Stereotypical bully, not afraid of fighting dirty. The Vackers, Keefe Sencen, and their little bubble are all the buzz. They’re pretty nice, and Sencen’s a bit of a flirt, but if you don’t like attention, maybe steer clear from them.”

Sophie let out a bitter laugh. “Easier said than done. The Vackers are the ones who found me. Fitz brought me here, Alden sent him out to find me, and Della helped me get ready for Foxfire.” Sophie paused to pull out another eyelash. “I don’t think Biana likes me much.

Marella’s eyes widened in shock as she leaned back and blew out a breath.

“Is that bad?” Sophie was panicking a bit now. What had she screwed up now?

“Well, it’s not good for your social status, that’s for sure.” Marella started slicing her food, which resembled Jello. “If you’re on her bad side, you’ll want to stay away from Maruca, too. They’re best friends.”

“Great,” Sophie sighed. One day in and she already had a long list of people to avoid. “Anything else I should know about?”

“Oh, yeah, but I’ll stick to school stuff. Your most difficult subjects are gonna be Elementalism and Alchemy.”

“I can help with that,” a boy called, sliding next to Sophie in the booth and placing his tray down. “Dex Dizznee, by the way.”

“Sophie Foster.” She grinned a bit. Edaline had gone without her to the apothecary and mentioned the “Disneys.” This must’ve been who Stina was shouting at. “I saw what you did to Stina earlier. Wicked move.”

“Finally, someone understands the genius! She deserved it, too, after what a pain she was last year. That’s where the alchemy comes in handy.”

Marella rolled her eyes, and Dex leaned back casually. “Don’t act like you don’t think she deserved it Marella. You know she did.”

“Ok, it was kind of satisfying seeing her run around like that-“

“Yes!”

“-but don’t take it as a sign that I’ll join in. I have a reputation to protect.”

Dex snorted. “Yeah, as the gossip girl.”

“I don’t gossip, I have connections,” she corrected.

“Whatever you say madam,” Dex relented jokingly. “What about you, Soph? Got anything you could build a reputation for?”

“Not really,” she expressed. “I don’t want the spotlight. I just want to make it by here.”

Marella took a bite of her lunch and scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

“Tell you what, my next class is Multispecesial Studies, I can walk you to Alchemy,” Dex offered.

“Really? That would be great, thank you!”

“No problem. It’s hard making it by for people like us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marella chugged down her lushberry juice.

“We’re different, special.”

“So, outcasts?” Sophie rested her head in her hand and stirred her drink nonchalantly, taking in the view of the cafeteria. It was remarkably pristine and clean, its white walls with blue accents not showing a hint of grime. With the barstools at tables all around the center and the booths to the side, it looked like every diner’s dream.

“No, not outcasts. Think more sideline supporters.”

“So, advocates,” Sophie helped. “I don’t really see that, but maybe one day. Right now I just want to pass.”

“Well you can’t do that on an empty stomach,” Marella chided playfully. “Eat up. Lady Galvin is a stickler for accuracy.”

————

Fantastic. Sophie had only been there one day and she had already ruined her Alchemy teacher’s favorite cloak. Marella was right, Alchemy was tough. She’d have to take Dex up on his offer. She wandered through the halls, trying to find the way to her next class, P.E. She strolled like this for a few more minutes before a snobby voice called to her from down the hall.

“Lost, new kid?”

Sophie winced. Great. The number one person on her People To Avoid list had already found a way into her world. She attempted to speed walk, but the clacking of leveled boots followed quickly, and she was spun around with a harsh push.

Stina laughed, and for a 12 year old elven child, it sounded quite maniacal. “Why so frightened? I don’t bite. Much.”

Somehow Sophie sincerely doubted that. There had to be some fangs behind that evil smirk. But maybe she could play it cool with this demon in disguise.

“I’m not frightened, just lost. Do you think you could point me to P.E.? I don’t want to be late on my first day.” Sophie held her breath, hoping she came off as casual.

“My pleasure,” Stina grinned a sickeningly sweet smile. “In fact, I’ll walk you there. Wouldn’t want our newest prodigy to miss class because of some weak instructions, now would we?”

“No, of course not.”

Stina linked their arms, acting as if they were old pals going on a walk in the park to catch up. It was silent except for the shuffling of their shoes, so Sophie made sure she was hyper aware of her surroundings, trying to memorize the numbers on each locker and how they connected to the twisting, winding paths of the school.

At this point, she was sure Stina planned to do something crazy to her, like stuff her in a locker or hide her body, so she had to think fast. Luckily, this was her specialty.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” Sophie began, stopping abruptly. Stina stumbled a bit, but regained her composure in seconds. “I forgot something at my locker! Oh, I’m so sorry, but Edaline told me I’d need what was in my locker. You go ahead, I shouldn’t keep you from your class! Don’t worry, I’ll find my way to Phys Ed.”

Sophie speed walked away, leaving Stina in the dust. Once she rounded the corner, she took off, speeding through corridors and halls until she ran out of breath. Giving up, she rested her head against the wall, trying to clear her head when she was forced to her feet and slammed into a locker. There was a click, and through the slits, Sophie could see Stina’s eyes crinkled in smugness and satisfaction. Yet through all of this, the only thing Sophie was thinking of was, That was pretty lame on a scale of bullying-ness.

“Good luck getting out of there, Foster,” she remarked. “Now, you get comfortable, I have some business to attend to.”

“Gonna go sharpen your claws?” Sophie snapped.

“No, newbie, I’m going to put the princess of Everglen in her place. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated!”

And with that, Stina clacked away, her footsteps receding and the silence finding its way to creep back in.

________

Sophie had no way of telling time. This she had learned when she realized she had in fact left something in her locker: her Imparter and the Ruewen crest. She let out an audible groan of frustration, and tried to occupy herself with her temporary home. There were books about unicorn breeding on the shelf above her, to which Sophie wrinkled her nose. Next, there was a box of animal pins, glittering and shiny, and she was very tempted to stuff a few in her pocket, but she restrained herself. She took to examining the pictures on the door with what little light she had and realized, to her disdain, that this was Stina’s locker.

Sophie shivered in disgust and tried patting herself out and getting the Stina vibes off of her.

“Well, if I’m going to be stuck here, I might as well take advantage of it,” she decided. Sophie put all of her energy into memorizing the photo album beside her, and wound up with some lovely photos of baby Stina, along with some other cherished memories. She was scanning through Stina’s diary and chuckling to herself at her inevitable revenge when yelling came from around the corner. Sophie dropped the journal and shuffled forward a bit, peering through the slits. This could be her saving.

“MESS WITH BIANA ONE MORE TIME-” Maruca had her pinned to the wall and looked ready to murder her, but Stina remained unfazed.

“Relax, duchess, you might be the heir soon,” Stina responded coolly.

That was the breaking point. Maruca opened her locker, which was, unfortunately, next to the one Sophie was trapped in, and slammed it shut.

“Maruca!” Sophie yelled, but Stina rattled in her locker, and shouted curses over her, both to insult Maruca and to put an end to Sophie’s escape plan.

Maruca was quick to exit, and soon enough it was just Stina and Sophie, trapped in their lockers, trying to determine the other person’s next move.

“Do you happen to know how to break down locker doors?” Stina commented dryly.

“Would I still be here if I did?”

“Fair.”

“You got a hairpin?” Sophie asked. “Or some thin piece of metal you can slide in between the crack of our lockers? I might be able to break out of mine by picking the lock.”

“And what about me? Gonna leave me here to rot while you run free?” She harrumphed. “I don’t think so. If I’m suffering you suffer with me.”

“I’ll get you out too, just answer the question and slide the metal through the crack.”

Stina huffed, but Sophie heard the sound of metal on metal scratch as something hit her foot. “My family crest. Do not scratch it.”

“You got it.” Sophie used her fingernails to get a little bit of extra room before sliding the crest through the door. She maneuvered it a bit, and the door let out a click as it swung open. Sophie fell forward face first, but sat up and whooped in victory.

Stina cleared her throat. “I’m still here.”

“Oh, I know,” Sophie poked smugly. “But if I’m going to break you outta there, you’re going to owe me a favor.”

“I do NOT-“

“Fine, then stay there. And spend all day, heck, maybe even until tomorrow, stuck in that cramped locker with no food or water whatsoever.” Sophie began to stroll away slowly, biding for time just in case Stina changed her mind about the offer.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Just get me out.”

Sophie cheered to herself silently and crouched down in front of the locker and got to work. Stina was peering through the slits in the locker, and for a moment they felt each other’s breath on their faces and they met eyes before glaring at each other and backing up a bit. The door swung open, and Stina came crashing down onto Sophie.

Stina pushed herself off of her quickly, seeming very flustered. She reached out a hand to Sophie, which she took. Stina shook Sophie’s hand off of hers.

“I need my family crest,” she said, looking off to the side uncomfortably.

“Oh,” Sophie frowned, unsure why she felt a little disappointed. Probably because my back hurts and I was just refused the little she could have given as thanks, she thought. “Right. Take it.”

Stina’s fingers brushed against Sophie’s as she took it back and pinned it onto her cloak once more. “Well.” Stina lifted her nose upon in the air, regaining her haughty facade. “Until we meet again, Foster.”

“Yeah, Sophie nodded, getting back to her feet. Once Stina was out of earshot, she muttered, “Hopefully that’s never.”

Sophie dusted herself off, finally registering her circumstances. She was late for class, and she looked disheveled. Stina had just walked off, leaving her lost, confused, and just waiting for a punishment of her lifetime. Sighing, she walked along the edges of a pyramid.

“Ms. Foster,” a cold voice crowed from behind her.

Sophie recognized that voice. Dame Alina. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Is there a particular reason that you’re not in class right now?”

“Uh-“

“Incoming!” a boy screamed from the top of his lungs, a bunch of verminions on his tail. Alina shrieked and ran into a neighboring hall for shelter. Sophie took this as an opportunity to find her way out of this maze and escape Alina’s grasp. She followed the boy until they reached the Healing Center, where he hid until the verminions passed by. Sophie stopped. She could go in and ask whatever medic was present for directions, but the thought of going anywhere near a doctor made her sick to the stomach.

“Can I help you, new girl?”

Sophie jumped. The boy she had been following was right in front of her, and she instinctively slunk back.

“Chill, I won’t hurt you. The name’s Keefe, but you can call me-“

“Sorry Keefe, but I’m really late for class, do you know where P.E. Is?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and massaged his neck, looking a bit hurt. “Uh, yeah, take a left after the next three halls.”

“Thank you!” Sophie bolted to class and arrived there out of breath.

“Sophie! Just in time for us to start splotching,” Dex waved her over. “It’s easy, you just use your telekinesis to move this marble into the other person. If you succeed, it bursts and you get a paint splotch on you.”

“Great,” she muttered. “You won’t believe what I’ve just gone through.”

“Tell me at the end of class. We’re gonna need all of our focus for this.”

“Alright,” she sighed. She couldn’t be upset, seeing Dex that excited lifted her mood just a bit. And that was just the boost she needed.

________

This was it. It was down to her and Fitz for the Splotching Champion title. Sophie gathered her concentration. She could not mess this up.

The splotcher was thrown in between them, and Sophie gave it her all. The marble exploded with a loud boom, and they were both thrown into opposite sides of the room. Sophie saw nothing but the green paint, and then darkness.

#hopefully you liked it 🥺#it was really fun to write so I’ll continue if you want it #lemme know #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfic #sophie foster #dex dizznee #marella redek #jensi babblos #stina heks #maruca endal

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dxncingthroughlife · 4 years

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Rating the Villa boys out of 10 because I’m bored

I’m going to try and not be bias because I’m a massive Bobby fan. Having said that, I’ve only done his route fully and part of Noah and Lucas’s route, so some of my judgements will be based more on friendships.

Bobby - CINNAMON ROLL. He definitely has his flaws, who doesn’t? Operation Nope wasn’t one of his strongest moments or when he saves her over Priya (maybe he thought Gary might, idk, but he was good friends with Priya). If you’re not on his route, he remains a good friend to you. I’m not going to list everything I love about him because there’s so much - he stays loyal in Casa Amor which yeah it’s minor but if you’re with him before disaster recoupling, he says he figured he owed it to MC which I find really sweet. Bare in mind, if it’s Noah who chose MC at disaster recoupling it’s because she kissed him and she turned his head, meaning there could be more there and Bobby would know that. But still, the boy remains loyal. Baked goods - don’t need to explain that one. Genuinely a sweet boy. He encourages MC to have fun on dates too, which is a lot nicer to than someone who would be mad about a new islander picking someone for a date (looking at you, Hope). I want to say 10/10, but because I’m trying to not be bias here, 9/10 and he gets a point taken away for not saving Priya.

Gary - sometimes I use him to couple up with on the first day so Priya can take him without me caring, then I immediately flirt with Bobby. I’m a bad person for that tbf, but Gary never took it personally. Granted it was the first day, but still. When MC rejects him and says we’d just be friends, he accepts it and doesn’t pursue her any further. I’d say he remains a good friend throughout the Villa. If you choose to not kiss him in the Kiss & Tell Challenge and have it on the cheek, he accepts it really nicely (with Lucas, you get frowny faces). His kiss with Lottie is never one that bothers me since I haven’t done his route, but he should have probably admitted to it when it happened. I don’t think anyone would have taken it that badly, especially since Marisol and Rocco cracked on behind everyone’s back anyway. I like his backstory, it definitely gives his character more depth and I loved that they chose him to explore that with. Good respect for his Nan and cranes. His expressions make me laugh. 9/10 based on friendship route and kiss drama.

Ibrahim - I’ve never done his route because I alway see him as a friend. He’s quite closed off but he remains a close friend to MC in the Villa. I think because he’s one of the quieter ones, he knows a lot more about everyone in the Villa than they think - he knows that if anyone could turn Noah’s head, there’s one person who could do that. I was fuming at all the boys who brought a girl back from Casa Amor but Shannon was cool, I’ll let him off for that. But then he went and dropped her for Jo, so - less said about that one the better. He asked Jo to be his girlfriend pretty quickly? Other than that, he’s a good friend and I like seeing the other side of him (like when him and Bobby come up with words to prank the new islanders). 7/10 - would have been higher but Jo. So, sorry for that, Ibrahim.

Noah - ah, now, here’s the tricky one. I have done routes with and without him. On a non-Noah route, all I can say is despite not having a tonne of interactions or one-on-one scenes with Noah, he’s a good friend. He even defends MC by saying she’s cute when she eats when her LI insults her. It’s sweet that he’ll come and keep MC company on the night she’s single (Day 2?) - of course, Hope comes in and ruins it. Honestly, he’s better without Hope. He just has more freedom to chat to another girl and not get called out for just being a friend. He admitted to kissing MC or Priya straight away and THANK GOD for that. ON definitely wasn’t one of the best plans, but he immediately came clean unlike some secret kissers (Jo & Rahim). On a Noah route - I enjoy doing the route for the extra little moments with him, but honestly? He just plays both MC and Hope. I completely understand his head was a mess after the disaster recoupling and during Casa Amor - he’d just coupled up with someone new and he didn’t really get a chance to see what it’s like because of Casa. He brings Blake back (honestly doesn’t deserve a rating for that), but immediately drops her and MC without a second thought when Hope runs back into his arms. Then after that, he carries on with Hope but you get little glances and moments with him before he finally decides right near the end of the show that you’re the one he wants. I think he needed to be honest with Hope and MC after Casa Amor about his feelings - that he doesn’t know where they’re at. Overall he is sweet. I’m going to have to go 7/10 based on his route - sorry Noah, I love you but FB did you dirty with that one.

Rocco - I like his backstory, once again I think they did really well with how they portrayed that. I did his route once because I live for the drama. There’s not much to say about him though? In the end, he never really redeems himself. If he would have stayed and recoupled with Marisol, he would have done the same to her - he tries to kiss MC before he leaves and doesn’t even care about Marisol. So 4/10? He brought the drama that I love so.

Lucas - I always save him over Henrik because out of the two he’s my favourite. His angry face haunts me. If I’m coupled up with him, it’s usually because I saved him from being dumped but MC is never really interested in him. I lose a bit of respect for him if I’m with because of the disaster recoupling and he brings Blake back (not surprising since I H A T E her). He seems to get a bit more jealous than some of the others. Oh, and when he’s discussing the perfect date with MC, Lottie and Henrik, he talks about enjoying a pop up restaurant and if MC says she doesn’t like fancy places he’ll be like “um yeah me neither” - so he tries a bit hard for her attention I think. He’s a good character overall but I don’t find that I connect with him as well in the game. I like him a lot though. 8/10

Henrik - his sad face makes me laugh. Also kind of looks like a sad puppy. It makes me think of when you tell a child off and they’re trying not to cry. I prefer Lucas over him and always make sure Lucas is saved and Henrik is the returning islander. He’s sweet, but I didn’t like him enough to keep him around (soz). If I do keep him around though, I lose a little bit of respect over the whole Blake thing because I just hate her that much lmao. Other than that, he remains friendly and easy to get along with. I really like his friendship with Lucas and it was sweet how they bonded. 8/10

Jakub - after I saw that post of him looking like a pig, I can’t get it out of my head. I laughed the first time I saw him and the first time I saw his swimwear. I constantly want to tape his tongue back into his mouth (same goes for you, Jo). He irons his socks. I like that he just comes in though and goes for what he wants. Like he really fucked things up with the disaster recoupling and basically shrugged it off. When all the drama’s kicking off at the party, he just ignores it and starts partying which I WISH MC could do half the time. So yeah, 5/10. He’s not around for long anyway.

#litg #love island the game #litg bobby #litg gary #litg ibrahim #litg noah #litg rocco #litg lucas #litg henrik #litg jakub

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kom-wanheda · 4 years

Text

What a Catch

Evan Buckley Week

March 26th - Day 4: “You want to marry me?” + love

Maddie’s looking at him with a strange expression, almost secretive, almost… guilty? Chimney is standing off to the side, hands shoved so far into his pockets that he’s about to lose his elbows in there.

Buck straightens. “Maddie? What’s going on?”

“I found… something I probably wasn’t supposed to see,” Maddie winces out.

Read on ao3 or under the cut.

“Hey, Buck, can you give me and Chim a hand in here?”

Buck looks up from the poker game he’s playing with Bobby, Athena, Hen, and Eddie towards the kitchen doorway. Maddie and Chimney had mysteriously disappeared there almost thirty minutes ago.

“Uh, Mads, I’m kind of in the middle of something!” he yells, concentrating on his cards, eyeing up his opponents playfully. The center of the table is a mess of poker chips and actual chips from when Buck got a little too… enthusiastic. Buck makes a note to clean that up later.

“We all know you’re not going to win, so just save us all the theatrics and come here, will you?” Maddie calls back.

Everyone at the table laughs at Buck, who manages to look affronted for a few seconds before he deflates and throws his cards face-up on the table. It was a shitty hand, he has to admit. “Fine, maybe, but they didn’t know I was going to lose!”

Hen scoffs, knocking elbows with Athena, who is smirking over her cards at him. Hen looks back towards Buck when she says, “Buck, I’m sorry to say, but your strategy sucks.”

“Okay, rude, I hate you all,” Buck huffs out, standing from the table dramatically. That gets a good chuckle out of everyone, even Eddie, the traitor. Buck can’t help but grin, losing any believability he had for actually being upset.

As Buck passes Eddie, he reaches out and squeezes Buck’s hand, a silent acknowledgment. It’s just a quick squeeze of hi yes hello, but it sends a thrill up Buck’s spine, anyways. Buck’s smile turns a bit dopey.

He passes by where the kids are stationed around the sofa. Albert’s got every single one of them entranced in a story about South Korea, including May, whose attention has strayed from her phone for so long the screen’s gone black. Karen abandoned poker a long time ago, and she’s sitting next to Denny, stroking her hand across his back, baby Nia nestled securely in her lap.

Buck leans down to give Chris a quick kiss to his head, and while Chris doesn’t look away from Albert’s gesticulating hands, he does reach up and touch Buck’s cheek gently. Buck’s heart melts a little more, like it does every single time Chris does something so obliviously sweet.

As Buck gets to the kitchen, he grabs onto the door frame and swings into the room, eyeing up his sister. “My dearest Maddie, what is it you needed my help with that could not have possibly waited until I lost fair and square?”

Buck straightens. “Maddie? What’s going on?”

“I found… something I probably wasn’t supposed to see,” Maddie winces out.

“Found something? What do you mean?”

Maddie’s words start coming out in a rush. “We were just cleaning up after dinner, and your bag was sitting on the counter, so I went to move it and then it fell off the table and some stuff rolled out.” Maddie wrings her hands together before gesturing to the island in front of her. Where a small, dark purple jewelry box is sitting.

A very familiar jewelry box.

Buck springs forward, snatching it up. “Maddie,” Buck hisses, “you went through my stuff?”

“I didn’t mean to! It just fell out with all your dirty clothes when I picked your bag up!”

“The box was in a sealed pocket, Maddie, there’s no way it could have just ‘fallen out’! You were snooping!”

“I was not! I’m not twelve,” Maddie says indignantly, “Also, how was I supposed to know that you were hiding an engagement ring in your work bag?”

“Shh!” Buck says, frantically waving his hands at her. “Keep your voice down!”

Maddie covers her mouth, perhaps just now realizing that the hopeful recipient of said ring is just in the other room.

Buck glances down at the box in his hands, runs his fingers over the familiar velvety soft exterior before clicking it open, just to check. He must have done that a thousand times already since he picked it up that morning on his way in to work. Both rings are still nestled there safely. He catches the pair watching him, and he snaps it closed, hiding the box behind his back, as if Maddie and Chimney — who has remained questionably silent this entire time — have no object permanence, and once hidden, the knowledge of the box’s existence would be gone as well.

Maddie switches gears, eyes going all soft. “Buck, how long have you been carrying that around with you?”

“I just picked it up today, that’s the only reason why it was in my bag to begin with. I bought it a few weeks ago,” Buck mumbles.

Finally, Chimney seems to get his voice back. “I know you guys have been dating for a while, but you really think it’s time?”

“Remind me, Chim, how many months was it again before you asked my sister to marry you?” Buck retorts, raising an eyebrow.

Chimney laughs, right hand ghosting over to touch the metal band around his ring finger. Buck isn’t actually upset, of course he can’t be, not when Maddie and Chimney are so obviously perfect for one another.

Maddie wraps her arm around her husband, smiling softly down at the ring on her own finger. It makes Buck happy to see his sister and friend happy, but he can’t deny how desperately he wants a taste of that, too.

“It’s only been about a year since we started dating, but I know it’s what I want. I’m pretty sure it’s what Eddie wants, too. But god, Maddie, I’m so nervous. The last thing I want to do is move too quickly, especially since all of this is totally new territory for me. I’ve never been married before, but Eddie has, you know? I don’t want him to feel like I’m trying to replace Shannon, especially when it comes to Chris.” Buck says more than he planned to, but now that both of them know, he needed to talk to someone. It’s not like he could confide in his best friend for advice, since it’s his best friend he’s going to pop the question to.

“Well, I don’t have much advice for you there,” Chimney says, “We were just doing the dishes one night after dinner and it just kind of… popped out.”

“Yeah, I know.” Buck rolls his eyes. “The least romantic engagement story I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey!” Maddie laughs, gazing up at Chimney with obvious love in her eyes. “It worked on me, didn’t it?”

Buck shakes his head, turning his attention back to the box cradled in his hands. “I just love them both so much, you know? I love our life together. I just want to make sure all three of us are ready, and when the time is right, hopefully I’ll know what to say.”

It’s then, when all three of the kitchen’s occupants are either distracted by each other or distracted by what ifs, when Buck hears a choked sound coming from behind him.

All three of them turn quickly, and Eddie is right there, a collection of empty beer bottles in his hands. “I, uh, was just coming in here to recycle these,” Eddie explains haltingly. He thrusts the bottles forward, as if to prove his story. “I swear I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”

Buck is a little dumbfounded. As soon as he turned around, he had shoved the ring box into his front pocket, and it’s a tight fit and so obvious he almost wants to cover it up with his hands. As if that would help.

“Why don’t we grab those bottles from you and take the other trash outside, huh, Maddie?” Chimney says quickly, moving forward and collecting the bottles from Eddie’s lax hands.

“Sure, sounds like a two person job, definitely,” Maddie rambles a bit. She pats Buck on the head as she scurries out the kitchen door with Chimney, and despite her having to stretch to even reach his head, it still feels a bit condescending. But mostly comforting.

Good luck, Buck.

He’s left face to face with his boyfriend. Maybe more, his brain unhelpfully supplies.

“Hey, babe,” Buck stutters, a nervous smile on his lips, “How much of that did you hear?”

Eddie takes a step closer, and it’s so easy for Buck to fall into Eddie’s orbit, to lean into his embrace. “Enough, I think. You want to marry me?” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes not traveling any higher than Buck’s neck. They’re so close now that they could bump noses if one of them tilts their head right, so Buck does, trying to get Eddie to look at him. Ah. There they are, those warm brown eyes Buck loves so much. Eddie still looks hesitant, uncertain, and that hurts Buck a little.

“Eddie, of course I do. You are my most favorite part of every day. Chris, too,” Buck adds, leaning down to maintain eye-contact as Eddie tries to duck away. “I know we haven’t talked about it in so many words, but… in theory,” Buck stresses, and Eddie laughs a little, “would you want to do… that, one day?” Fuck, he needs to practice saying those words if he’s stumbling this hard right now and it’s not even real.

Eddie can’t fight the hesitant smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do,” he whispers, and hearing that combination of words jumpstarts Buck’s heart.

“Good, because that’s going to happen one day. Not tonight, I haven’t even gotten the rings engraved yet,” Buck complains, “but someday. We’re going to get married, I’m going to move in, and then we get to plan the rest of our lives together.” It all sounds like a dream, a dream Buck never would have known he wanted just a few years ago, but god, he does want it, and he wants it with this man standing in front of him. Buck can’t help it: he leans in and presses his mouth to Eddie’s, gently biting on his lower lip before pulling a hair's breadth away to speak. “How’s that sound?”

Eddie’s never been good with verbally expressing himself, and Buck knows he’s been trying. He can see the thoughts as they race across his face, can almost read the words desperately trying to get out, but they never quite make it to his mouth. That’s okay, Buck doesn’t mind. As soon as Buck gets those rings on both their fingers, they’ll have the rest of their lives to work on it. Together.

“Sounds like something I could get used to,” Eddie finally settles on, pulling Buck’s face back to his, stealing another kiss. Buck presses closer, feels the jewelry box cut into his hip as Eddie pushes into him. Buck opens his mouth to bite Eddie’s lip again, but that’s when Eddie pulls away.

Buck makes a face and Eddie laughs at him, his hands ghosting up from where he was cradling Buck’s neck to his cheek, thumb brushing gently along the end of Buck’s eyebrow.

“I don’t really want to get too out of hand at your sister’s house. Especially not with all of our friends in the other room,” Eddie explains.

Oh, Buck gets it, but he still pouts a little.

“Come on, cariño, I want to watch you lose at poker again,” Eddie gently jabs, smile never leaving his face.

Buck allows himself to be pulled back into the living area, and it appears the rest of the world kept on spinning as Buck’s spun into a new orbit. Buck and Eddie are quickly welcomed back into the casual joviality of the group. Buck catches Maddie peering around the corner spying on them, and he sticks his tongue out at her. You know, like an adult. She smiles gleefully back.

“Can’t we just play go fish or something?” Buck whines, tugging on Eddie’s hand.

“Why, you wanna lose at a child’s game, too?”

Laughter erupts as everyone apparently catches that. Buck can’t even pretend to be mad, the presence of that box in his pocket making him feel damn near weightless.

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duncanwrites · 4 years

Text

All the books I read in 2020, reviewed in two sentences or less

My 2020 in reading was, naturally, a little strange. I had lots of long pauses, did a bad job of keeping track of everything I read, used an e-reader for the first time, and read more for work than I usually do.

So these may not be in strict chronological order as they usually are, and there may be a few missing, but here’s the list, as per tradition:

Rising Tide - John M. Barry: This history of the Mississippi floods of 1927 and the resulting changes in how the US deals with natural disasters is one of those stories about how politics and personality can become a part of the concrete world, and essential for understanding the racial dynamics of disaster response. Well-told, and worth reading.

The Consultant's Calling - Geoffrey M. Bellman: A very useful recommendation from a trusted friend that now has a long-term spot in my office shelf. This book isn't only about consulting, it also offers great thoughts about finding your place and impact in organizations in general.

Range - John Epstein: I think Range is the nonfiction book that had the second- greatest impact on my thinking about myself this year (stay tuned for number 1!): I've always approached my professional and political work as a generalist, and for a long time I felt like that approach was leading me to a dead end. Reading this convinced me that I could be effective and even more useful with my fingers in a lot of different pies, and nudged me to keep searching for my most effective place in the movement.

The Accusation - Bandi: A harrowing work of realist fiction from North Korea that shows the toll authoritarian hero-worship takes on the soul.

The Underground Railroad - Colson Whitehead: I found that the quality of The Underground Railroad did not quite match its notoriety. It felt like two books awkwardly joined, where the more grounded approach to the emotional and interpersonal stakes of slavery and freedom was attached to a poorly-explored fantasy device.

Maus - Art Spiegelman: So much more than a book about the Holocaust, Maus is about parents and how pain is handed down between generations.

I Love Dick - Chris Kraus: After a long enough time, it becomes hard to evaluate books that are meant as a provocation as well as storytelling, but even 20 years on, it's not hard to see why I Love Dick brought us so much of the style and voice of feminist writing on the internet. A unique, itchy, sticky piece of work.

Bloodchild - Octavia Butler: Whenever I see an Octavia Butler book in a used book store, I buy it. This collection of short stories is a fantastic example for what transgressive, visionary speculative fiction should aspire to.

King Leopold's Ghost - Adam Hochschild: What I love about this book and the other I've read by Hochschild (Bury the Chains_ is that he very carefully merges deep explorations of systems of violence with the way that they can be undone by the people who participate in them. King Leopold's Ghost is as much about Belgium's murderous plunder of the Congo as it is about the successful global movement against it.

Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon: Priory of the Orange Tree is built on a strong foundation, melding Eastern and Western dragon stories into one universe, but couldn't seem to tie all of its threads together in a compelling way by the end.

Desiring the Kingdom - James K. A. Smith: Smith's point about meaning and desire being embedded in every day practices is a valuable one, but I think I may be just too far outside of his target audience of religious teachers and thinkers to get the most out of his explorations here.

City of Brass, Kingdom of Copper, Empire of Gold (The Daevabad Trilogy) - S. A. Chakraborty: This series is exceptional, and some of my favorite books of any kind that I read this year; I certainly think I recommended them more often than anything else I read in 2020. A high fantasy built on Islamic and Arab cultural iconography, the characters are insightfully developed, the world building grows with precise pacing, and the themes of intergenerational trauma, and sectarianism are handled with expert delicacy.

Leadership and the New Science - Meg Wheatley: While I appreciate the effort to apply metaphors developed from scientific paradigm shifts to provoke paradigm shifts of thinking in other areas of work, I think this book strains its chosen metaphors a bit too far to be useful.

The American Civil War: A Military History - John Keegan: I appreciate that there's a value to these kinds of military analyses of conflicts, but I found this book's neutral tone - and sometimes admiring takes - towards the Confederacy off-putting. Two things I did take from it: the outcome of the war was not certain at the beginning, and speed is truly a critical part of winning conflicts.

To Purge This Land with Blood - Stephen Oates: This was the first substantial reading I had ever done about John Brown, and Oates' book made it very clear why he is still one of the American historical figures most worth talking about today. The contradictions, complexities, and unimpeachable truths caught up in his raids are almost too many to name, but I think he is one of the people most worth thinking about when considering what actually changes the world.

Normal People - Sally Rooney: Anyone who denies that this book is anything less than a truly great novel is not telling the truth, or does not actually care about the feelings people feel. It is a work of keen emotional observation, and perfect, tender language, as well as a pleasingly dirty book -- and there is nothing I would change about it.

Conversations With Friends - Sally Rooney: Still a banger, I think Conversations with Friends struggles somewhat to get to its point, and has less of the pleasing depth and ambiguity of Normal People. Still worth your time and attention, I think.

The Glass Hotel - Emily St. John Mandel: I loved Station Eleven, and I can't imagine having to follow it up, and I unfortunately think The Glass Hotel doesn't quite accomplish all it set out to do. It wandered, hung up on a few strong images, but never progressed towards a point that needed to be made, and I finished it feeling underwhelmed.

The Water Dancer - Ta-Nehisi Coates: Coates is an essential nonfiction writer who can turn a phrase to make devastating, memorable points - but I thought his novel failed to do very many of the things that make his nonfiction great.

A Visit From The Goon Squad - Jennifer Egan: Someone once recommended this book to me as a way to study voice in character development - it is certainly that, as well as a brutally efficient window into hope, fame, and aging.

Trick Mirror - Jia Tolentino: The best parts of Trick Mirror show why Jia Tolentino is one of the writers most worth reading today: she knows how to find the experiences and people that wormhole you into dimensions of American culture that you might not otherwise think carefully about. While I think some of the essays in the book are weaker than her usual work, overall it is still terrific, and her essay on Houston rap, evangelical culture, and drugs is one of the best anythings I read all year.

My Dark Vanessa - Kate Elizabeth Russell: I feel like I'm on very shaky ground making any definitive takes about a book like this that is so fundamentally about gendered violence and what it means to be a victim of that violence. But I will say that I think it's important to recognize how power and charisma can be used to make you want something that actually hollows out your soul.

Prozac Nation - Elizabeth Wurtzel: Without a doubt, this is the nonfiction book that had the greatest personal impact on my life in 2020, and I have much longer things I've written about it that I will probably never share. While I've not ever been to the extremes she describes here, Wurtzel describes so many things that I clearly remember feeling that the shock of recognition still hasn't worn off.

The New Jim Crow - Michelle Alexander: In truth, we should all be shaking with rage at the American justice system every single day. This is certainly not the only book to explain why, but it does a particularly good job of explaining both the deep roots, and rapid expansion of the system we need to dismantle.

The Martians - Kim Stanley Robinson: Getting another little taste of the world Robinson built in the Mars Trilogy only made me want to drop everything and read them again. Well-made, but not stand-alone short stories that are worth reading if you've finished the novels and aren't ready to leave the formally-Red yet.

The Wind’s Twelve Quarters - Ursula K. Le Guin: One of the things that makes Le Guin so special is the sparseness of her prose and world building, and her genius is very much evident in her short stories.

Matter - Iain M. Banks: This is the second Culture series book I've read by Banks, and once again I thought it was inventive, satisfyingly plotted, but not so heady to be imposing. A very solid read.

Ogilvy On Advertising - David Ogilvy and Ogilvy On Advertising in the Digital Age - Miles Young: The original Ogilvy on Advertising is frustratingly smug but at least delivers plain and persuasive versions of advertising first principles. Ogilvy on Advertising in the Digital Age is also frustratingly smug, but is mainly useful as an example of the hubris and narcissism of contemporary advertising executives.

Goodbye to the Low Profile - Herb Schmertz: Schmertz was the longtime public affairs director for Mobil Oil, and in this book he talks about how they worked to manage public debate about the oil industry, without realizing that he's writing a confession. Reading this it is abundantly clear how the oil industry's commitment to making deception respectable led to the collapse of the American public sphere.

The Lean Startup - Eric Ries: I was surprised by how much I liked this book, and wish more people who wanted to start political projects would read it. The Lean method is a way of building organizations that are ruthlessly focused on serving their base of supporters, and evaluate their work against real results - and I think we all could use more of those.

Zero To One - Peter Thiel: Another book that reads like a confession when perhaps not intended to, Zero To One's main point is that the point of building businesses should be to build monopolies, and that competition is actually bad. A great starting point for understanding what's gone wrong in America's tech economy.

The Mother of All Questions - Rebecca Solnit: Of the many things to cherish about Solnit as a writer, the one I needed most when I re-read this book is her ability to gently but doggedly show other ways of imagining the world, and ourselves in it.

Native Speaker - Chang-Rae Lee: I think this is the third time I've read this novel, and the time I've enjoyed it the least: somehow on re-re-reading, the core metaphors became overbearing and over-used, and the plot and characters thinner.

Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller: There are several excellent entries in the sub-genre of classic tales re-told from the perspective of silent women characters, but this is the first I've read re-told from a man's perspective - in this case, the likely-lover of Achilles in the Iliad, Patroclus. While not necessarily a groundbreaking work of literature, it is a very well-executed one that tells a compelling story about how violence can destroy men who carry it out.

Uprooted - Naomi Novik: What makes Uprooted so engrossing is that its magical world feels grounded, and political: magic has consequences for the individuals who use it, and further consequences based on their place in the world. What makes it frustrating is the overwhelming number of things the author has happening in the story, and the difficulty they have bringing them to a conclusion.

#books #reading #booklist

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maggotzombie · 4 years

Text

ROOMIES: three. duties.

→ CHAPTERS LIST – TWO. LOVERS. WORD COUNT: 3,5k A/N: Took me long enough to release this one, huh? My bad, I completely forgot about it.

MAYA PLOPS down on the sofa tired and sweaty. The apartment was so dirty and messy when she got up that there was no option but to clean it. Thinking about that now, she frowns; it's Shannon's week of cleaning and it seemed like a hurricane had gone through the place.

But now everything is in the right place and it smells like flowers, literally.

Maya hears the door opens and she stays on the sofa, too tired to move. "I'm home!" Jared shouts from the door. "Someone's home?"

"Yes," She says quietly, not even in the mood.

"Hey, sis," Jared says, kissing Maya's head before plopping down on the sofa next to her.

"Hi, Jay," She replies tiredly, glancing at him quickly. "Don't even think about leaving these socks there, I've just cleaned up the whole place," She says, watching him remove his shoes. "And do me a favor, stop throwing them under the bed, it's disgusting."

The woman couldn't even tell what she has found in Jared and Shannon's room while cleaning it. The only places obligatory for cleaning are the common areas, the rooms are out of the jurisdiction, they're not even allowed to get into each other's room without permission. So, the brothers pay her to do that because if it isn't for her, their rooms would be always dirty.

"Okay," Jay nods with a smile. "Why are you cleaning anyway? I thought it was Shannon's week."

"You know, I just realized that but it seemed like the place hasn't been cleaned in weeks!" Maya says and he shrugs off.

"Maybe he's just too busy," He says, trying to defend his brother.

Just as Maya opens her mouth to give a sarcastic reply to Jared, Shannon's storms into the apartment, looking like he wasn't having a good day. He throws his stuff on the dining table and opens the fridge, taking a beer bottle from it.

"Hello to you, too," Maya greets wryly.

Shannon turns to look at them, death in his eyes. "What is it? I'm not in the mood," He says harshly.

Maya quirks an eyebrow. "You're not in the mood? Just so you know, I've cleaned the whole apartment for you," She points out.

"So? Didn't ask you to," Shannon replies, walking towards his room.

Her mouth drops open in surprise. "You know, when someone does something for another, the correct is a "thank you"," Maya shouts to him.

"Again: didn't ask you to!" The older Leto shouts before slamming his door shut.

Maya scoffs. "Unbelievable," She stands up, shaking her head. "Better get your shit together, Shannon! I told you two on the first day that I won't be your fucking maid!" Maya says loudly, slamming her own door shut.

She takes a shower still surprised by Shannon's antics. Of course, she already knew that he is a fucking prick when he's pissed but so is she. And if they both start to mess with Maya, her response is gonna be just as good, they are quite aware of that.

Neither Jared nor Shannon are in the living room when Maya leaves her bedroom. She makes a beeline towards the door and goes to work. The time goes by smoothly, without too many problems, which makes Maya's mood a little better, and the night's classes don't give her the usual headaches.

"Okay, where you want to meet to get this done already?" Maya asks her classmates, glancing up from her fruit salad during the break.

A professor had given the class a small paper and Maya couldn't think about anything but that.

The woman across from her shrugs. "I think we all live in small dorms. There isn't enough space in those cubicles for two people, let alone for six," She scoffs.

"Yeah, and we can't actually talk in the library, so..." Another says.

Maya chews for a bit before realizing what they are implying. "You want to do this in my place?" She asks anyway, looking around the table.

"I mean, I think it's the only place that has space enough for all us," The woman by her side argues.

"Mhm," Shan nods, squinting her eyes. "And this has nothing to do with Jay and Shan?"

"Nooo, not at all," The other five women say in unison.

"Right... You do realize they have, like, lives and jobs of their own and don’t stay home all the time?" She tries again, knowing that the brothers are the reason they want to go to her apartment.

"Look, Maya, this has nothing to do with the Letos," The woman one across from her says. "It's just the place that better fits us all, simply," She says and the others nod in agreement.

"Okay," Maya shrugs, shaking her head.

The women's face goes from surprised by Maya's answer to super excited and they have to mask up the smiles. Maya just wants to laugh at them for the bit of hope in seeing Jared or Shannon while working on the paper, but all she cares about is to do it as soon as possible. So, she arranges the meeting in her apartment on a Thursday that works better for their schedules.

Maya finds out on the weekend that the apartment was so dirty because in the previous week – Jared's week – it wasn't cleaned either. She is pissed for a few minutes but her mind quickly plans another payback. Her week comes around and she completes her tasks normally, as nothing out the ordinary happened. She cleans the boys' room, hers and the rest of the apartment, does the laundry, wash the dishes and everything.

When Jared's week comes again, Maya observes silently. He doesn't do his tasks, as predicted, but she simply doesn't do anything either. Maya keeps her own room organized and clean, does her own laundry, washes her own dishes to eat, and that's how it goes.

In the day the girls are scheduled to come, Maya warns the brothers once again and feels obliged to clean the place. Both Jared and Shannon assures her that they won't bother her or even be home. At first, the girls are disappointed when Maya greets them at the door, alone. Quickly, the dining table is filled with papers, the six women are seated discussing and writing down, all engrossed in work.

Fifteen minutes into that and the door opens. The girls haven't noticed yet, but Maya has. Only by the way he walks, Maya can tell it's Shannon. It takes two seconds for him to show up and he frowns, looking at the crowded dining table. Maya knows he has forgotten and the other women notice his presence when he talks.

"Oh, hello," He greets, opening his perfect smile.

"Hi," The women reply in unison, some with a sigh and others hold their breaths as he makes his way towards the table, straight to Maya.

"Hey, sis," Shannon kisses Maya's head, ‘embracing’ her briefly with one arm.

"Hi, Shan," She gives him a kind smile.

"I know I've told you I wouldn't be home, and I'm probably interrupting," He says, looking at the papers scattered around.

"No, no, you're not, don't worry," The girls are quick in replying, making Shan smile.

"I'll just take a shower and leave," He finishes, looking back at Maya.

"Okay," She nods, not saying anything else.

He smiles again. "Alright," Shannon bends down and kisses Maya's cheek, before moving away. "Excuse me," He says, leaving the room.

Maya looks at her colleagues all staring at Shannon's ass with happy and somehow satisfied faces. "Do you guys need a moment to recompose or what?" She asks, making all of them whip their heads around to look at her.

Smiles fade at Maya's raised eyebrow and the serious environment returns immediately until Jared storms into the apartment. She literally rolls her eyes at her notebook, sighing.

"Oh fuck," Jared curses, seeing the crowded table. "Sorry, babe, I forgot," He says, walking towards the table.

"I've realized," She says under her breath.

"Hello, ladies," Jared smiles them, kissing Maya's cheek too. "Don't worry, I'll shower and leave faster than Flash,"

"You're not interrupting, don't worry," The girls reply and Maya rolls her eyes again.

"Oh, sweet," He smiles, before excusing himself.

Jared's door slams closed, Shannon hasn't come out yet and Maya is able to make her colleagues focused for more twenty minutes. "Maya," Shannon calls, opening his door.

"Oh, fucking God!" She complains, raising her head and looking at the ceiling before focusing on a shirtless and shoeless Shannon. "What is it?"

"I don't have clean shirts and socks," He says, looking at her.

"And what the hell do I have to do with that?" Maya asks.

Shannon frowns, not caring about all the women staring at him with a different range of expressions on their faces. "I figured..." He starts.

"No," She interrupts him. "Get Jared's," Maya looks down at her notebook, ending the conversation.

Shannon growls but doesn't protest, turning around. Not enough time passes by for Jared to show up with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp and droplets all over his torso. There's a chorus of sighs and Maya doesn't look up this time.

"Maya, I don't have clean underwear and socks and shirts," He says, hands on his hips.

"Then maybe you should do laundry," Maya says simply, still writing.

"Why didn't you did it?" Jared asks harshly, but regrets as soon as she raises her head.

"Excuse me?" The woman asks, not a good face, that infamous eyebrow up.

He loses his composure and attitude. "Uh... I mean..." Jared rambles. "Is your week, right?" He opens a sheepish smile, trying to make things better.

"No, it's your week," Maya corrects, not slightly happy. "Do you need anything else?" She asks harshly.

"N-no, that's all," Jared mutters, feeling uncomfortable.

"Good, get the fuck outta my face," She says.

If he could disappear faster, Jared would have. In the end, neither one of them bothers Maya any further. She doesn't know or care if Jared was wearing pants without underwear or if both brothers were wearing dirty socks and shirts. They simply left fully clothed and she finishes the paper with the most satisfied women ever for seeing one brother half-undressed and the other nearly naked.

The next morning she seats in the kitchen's countertop, sipping from her yogurt as she scrolls through her phone. Shannon wishes her good morning and opens the cabinet to get a mug but finds it completely empty and the sink full of dishes.

"Oh, good Lord, what a fucking mess!" He complains, taking a mug from the very bottom of the sink and making the dishes on top of it collapses down right on his hand. "Motherfucker! Goddamn! Fuck, Fuck! Shit! Asshole! Cocksucker!" Shannon curses loudly, holding his own hand.

Maya watches silently as Shannon paces back and forth, still naming all the swear words that ever existed. Along with that, there's a yelp and a loud thump coming from Jared's room before the door gets jerked open and he comes out of it running.

"A fucking huge cockroach just ran over me," He says, fear in his face.

"Why don't you wash these fucking dishes?" Shannon hisses. "Look at this, a freaking mess!"

"Why don't you do it?" Jared retorts.

"It's your goddamn week!" The older brother argues.

The younger scoffs. "Like you're doing something on your week."

"That's not the damn point! If you were cleaning like you are supposed to, a fucking huge cockroach wouldn't have run over you," Shannon slams his hand in the sink.

The woman places her empty glass on the counter and takes her purse and notebook. The brothers are in a heated argument when she slips out of the apartment, getting a taxi to her morning classes. Maya doesn't see them in the hallways or at lunch and when she returns home after work, it's exactly like she left.

The sink is full of dishes, there's oatmeal all over the countertop with empty packs of every kind of things. On the corner, there are empty beer bottles on the floor. The living room looks like a shoe shop and all the socks in the world are probably there. There’s a blanket on one of the sofas and Maya gets a glimpse of pink underwear.

Making a disgusted face, she rushes towards her clean and organized bedroom, where she spends the most the time now. An hour later, Leo arrives and Maya takes him directly to her room, closing the door behind her. He's the one lucky guy that has piqued her curiosity and they’ve been seeing each other for weeks now. To be quite honest, Maya got interested in him because he's not jealous or intimidated by Shannon or Jared.

There's a knock on her door in the exact moment Maya is on top Leo, making out with him, her shirt is long gone. "Maya," Jared sticks his head inside, looking at her. "We need to talk," He announces, not slightly bothered by the scene in front of him.

She sighs, looking at the man below her. "Hold that thought for a sec," She says, pecking his lips quickly and leaving the bed.

Leo doesn't have time to say to her to put a shirt on before leaving because Maya is already in the living room, wearing only denim shorts and turquoise lace bra. Shannon looks at her and frowns, but he shakes his head and Jared stops by his side.

"What is it? Be quick, I was in the middle of something." She says.

"Right, I'll make it real short: we can't live like this," Shannon says quickly.

Maya frowns. "Like what?" She shakes her head.

"In this mess!" Jared motions around and she rolls her eyes. "No, don't roll your eyes at me. It's disgusting, it's starting to smell like there's a corpse in the bathroom and I don't want to wear a dirty shirt ever again."

"You are cleaning only your room and doing only your laundry," Shannon points out.

"Yeah," Maya nods. "I also wash the dishes I need to eat," She adds.

"This is very selfish of you," Jared says. "We live together for Christ's sake."

Shannon gives Jared a dirty look and Maya quirks an eyebrow at him, but shakes her head, sighing. "Look, I really don't wanna fight over this anymore. On the very first day we moved in together, we established very simple ground rules and we all agreed upon it. One of these rules is the cleaning schedule. I don't know or care who was the first who stopped following it but I also said I ain't gonna be your fucking maid," Maya points out, looking at both brothers. "It's not because I'm a woman that I have to clean and cook for you, and if you two start to expect these things of me, I won't be that person." She says. "We're not in the ‘70s anymore, women go to college and have jobs. Don't expect your future wives to sit around and wait for you, they won't do that either," Maya adds. "Another thing; we also established one rule saying no sex is allowed in common areas and there's a fucking pantie right beside Shannon," She points out and both brothers look at it. "So, don't try to lecture me about who is being selfish or not, I won't do my tasks if you're not doing yours."

Both brothers don't have what to say as they know they’re the wrong ones. So, they just stay in silence, looking at her.

"Anything else?" She asks and when none of them replies, she nods. "Okay."

Maya returns to her room and Leo is on his phone but he forgets it quickly. "Everything okay?" He asks.

She shrugs. "Yeah, just an unscheduled house meeting," She says, climbing on the bed. "Wanna get out of here?" Maya rests her chin on his chest.

"What you have in mind?" Leo asks, playing with her hair.

"Dinner," Maya says. "And then, we can go to your place and you know, discuss that thought," She smirks and bites her bottom lip.

"Let's go," He says, standing up.

Maya chuckles and dresses her shirt, slipping into a pair of Vans. She takes her purse and a jacket, following Leo out of her room and closing the door behind her. The couple bids goodbye to the brothers in the living room and leave.

As soon as the door closes, Shannon looks at Jared and the younger brother nods. With that, they stand up and go find weapons. Some seconds later, both are armed with cleaning gloves, aprons, brushes, squeegees, buckets, vacuum and everything else. They start with their own rooms: dirty clothes are gathered in a huge pile, bed sheets are changed, garbage is dumped in a bag, and cockroaches are killed.

While the washing machine works, the dishes are washed and put away, the countertop is cleaned and so is the fridge. There is a rock-paper-scissors moment to decide who's gonna clean the common bathroom while the other vacuums the entire apartment; Shannon wins and Jared has to clean the bathroom while trying to hold his vomit in.

Quickly the apartment is smelling like flowers, something that hasn't happened for over a month. Jared and Shannon are both exhausted but very pleased with their work. But before parting ways to their bedrooms for a shower, they reorganize the cleaning schedule again, to work this time.

In the meanwhile, Maya has a quiet romantic dinner with Leo. Then they go to his place and watch Netflix before falling asleep. In the morning, Maya fulfills her promise before going back to her apartment. The fresh smell of cleaning products and air freshener fills her nostrils as soon as Maya opens the front door.

Out of habit, she takes a deep breath, trying to take it all in. In the kitchen, Jared and Shannon are sitting on the countertop. As always, Jared has an oatmeal bowl and Shannon has his coffee mug. They are all smiling, talking about the girls they shared.

"Kate or Katherine... Or Karen..." Jared makes a face, trying to remember the girl's name.

"Med school?" Shannon asks.

"Yeah, yeah!" The younger nods.

Shan nods too. "Did that one, too."

"Good one," Jared recalls.

"Are you two doing that again?" Maya asks, making both of them turn their heads to look at her. "Already told you that's disgusting," She remarks, walking into the kitchen.

"Hey! Good morning, sis!" Jared smiles at her.

She opens a side smile. "Morning, bros."

Shannon kisses the top of her head and gives her a mug. "It's just the way you like it," He winks at her, motioning to the coffee.

"Mhm..." Maya hums, filling the mug.

"Had a good night?" Jared asks, mouth full.

"Yeah, slept a lot," She nods, sipping from the drink. "Perfect, Shan."

He smiles at her compliment. "But I thought you were in the middle of something last night..." Shannon recalls, making a face.

Maya raises her eyebrows before taking off her jacket. "Well, I keep my promises," She says, pulling her shirt down to show more skin.

The boy's eyes look at the hickeys spread on and near to her breasts, the purple marks almost imperceptible in the brown skin. "How old is this guy? Fifteen?" Jared scolds.

"So, it's serious then?" Shannon asks, looking at Maya.

"I mean," She starts, leaning on the countertop. "I like him. A lot. But I don't know if I want a serious relationship..."

"We don't..." Jared starts, shaking his head. "We don't give relationship advice..."

"For obvious reasons," Shannon completes, making Maya chuckle. "But we do punch guys that hurt our little sis," He says and Jared nods in agreement.

"I love you guys," She says, making a face.

"We love you, too," Jared winks at her. "So... We cleaned up," He says.

Maya looks around, everything organized and smelling good. "I've realized," She nods. "It smells amazing."

"We also reorganized the cleaning schedule," He adds. "Starting next week with Shan since today's Saturday."

"And we'll do our tasks and we won't break ground rules again," Shannon says.

"And we want to apologize for being assholes," Jared adds.

Maya opens a smile after a while. "I'm happy with that and I accept the apology," She nods with a smile. "But I want to know if we're going to Tomo's party today."

Shannon and Jared beam at her and they start to talk about the party. One minute into the argument if Maya should or not bring Leo to the party, Jared's phone buzzes beside his bowl. He takes it and kinda pales seeing the text he got.

"You okay, Jay?" Maya asks, realizing he is now silent.

Jared looks up at Shannon. "Mom's coming."

* * *

– FOUR. FAMILY.

#jared leto #shannon leto #thirty seconds to mars #30 seconds to mars #30stm #jared leto fanfiction #jared leto fanfic #jared leto imagine #jared leto x ofc #shannon leto fanfiction #shannon leto fanfic #shannon leto imagine #shannon leto x ofc #thirty seconds to mars fanfic #roomies

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caroline18mars · 5 years

Text

A Man On Fire - Chapter 54

“How many more shows here in Italy? Because I keep eating and eating and eating, it's been so long since I had food as decent and as tasty as this”, she pushed another piece of bread in her mouth with a sigh “and if I keep at it, I'm well on my way to gaining a whole lot of weight”. Jared took another mouthful of his granola and shrugged “so? Even more woman for me to handle, mmm love it” with a grin, earning himself a kick under the table, “not funny! Oyyy I'm stuffed” she leaned back in her chair holding her hands on her stomach. “Again? I remember you saying that a couple of times as well last night” he flashed her a dirty grin, “can we talk about anything else than sex for a minute?” she rolled her eyes in mock-drama. “Nope” he leaned back, happily chewing “ok, ok, let's talk about your paintings, where will the magic happen? Do you want me to book a seperate hotelroom where you can paint? Or do you want to work at the venue? I guess you don't want to be moving them from our bedroom to another hotelroom to a venue, there'll be enough damage moving them from city to city or even overseas as it is” he leaned in again sipping his coffee. “Damage? Oh darling, Leonardo Da Vinci crossed the Alpes with Mona Lisa rolled up in a bag hanging from a donkey when he moved to France to be with his lover, I'm sure my paintings will survive” she leaned in to him too and tapped his nose with her finger. “Really?” he was genuinely impressed, “really, so one step to the left or right too far and the most expensive, most famous painting in the world would have been no more, sometimes you've gotta take a risk you know?” she nodded. He rested his hand against his cheek “promise me one thing? If we get to Florence tomorrow, you show me around town? Show me Da Vinci and Michelangelo and you tell me everything you know about them, I didn't get nearly enough art history classes as I should have wanted, I love it, and hearing you talk about these anecdotes it's like watching a documentary, which leads me to the next brilliant idea, making an art history docu your style?” he rattled, getting lost in the dream already. “Hold it, wooahh, back up back up, Jared, hun, Jay?” she shook her head as he just kept spewing ideas and grabbed his hand “just let me paint, ok? Besides the fact that absolutely nobody would be interested in the topic, there's no way I want to be in front of a camera, I don't have the need to be in the limelight, I'm quite happy in the shadows” he scrunched his nose, not happy with the answer but knowing full well this was not a woman whose arm could easily be twisted “but you'll still show me around Florence?”, oh silly man you're absolutely adorable “of course I'll take you around Florence, just put on your walking shoes and don't you dare start moping when you get fed up with all the musea we're gonna do”. Harper leaned in to him, pushing a little kiss on the tip of his nose “and if you're a really good boy, I promise I'll buy you an icecream, ok?”, her giggle was contagious “and are you gonna spank me if I'm a bad boy?” to which she encouragingly wiggled her eyebrows.

Strolling through the park on their way back to the hotel, duty called for Jay in about an hour, he held her hand tighter than he ever had, squeezing, letting go, squeezing again, oh yes this was an internal convo with himself “Come to a conclusion yet? I hope so because I think I've already felt a bone snap in my hand”. What? His head whizzed to look at her “what?” he held up her hand to check the damage done, “wanna talk about it?” she raised her eyebrows when she looked into his eyes “just goes to show how dangerous your thoughts really are”. Something was brewing, that much was clear if him biting his lip and the unintentional harder squeezing of her hand was anything to go by, oohhh trouble, definitely trouble, she almost braced for his reaction “it's just..”. It's just what, Jared? I'm so not ready for whatever this is, “you're scaring me now, ok so what is it? You changed your mind and you want to end it after all? For fuck's sakes Jay” she babbled, getting more anxious by the second. His head shot up again and he took her face between her hands to calm her down “No! That's not it, I didn't change my mind..it's not about us, I just have bad news” his eyes became darker again “I was thinking about how to tell you this, but I guess there's just no right way..Shayla..she's coming back on the road with us” he blurted it out and watched her face go instantly pale like someone had punched her in the stomach. “You're joking, right?” she whispered, ugh why did she feel like the ground was gonna dissapear from underneath her feet? “Jay?” her eyes pierced his, “it was Shannon's idea, there was nothing I can do, I'm so sorry babe” dissapointment, hurt, it was all there in those beautiful brown eyes. “What's next? I mean Sean's back, now Shayla, within a month or so you're probably gonna tell me that Val's part of the gang again too. It just doesn't matter what they do, does it? And I don't matter, and neither does everything they did to me, because I'm temporary, right?” she blurted it all out, the frustration, the pain, just when she thought they could finally get back to being a normal couple, there was always a spanner being thrown in the works.

“Harper, babe? No stop” he followed her as she started walking again “you're not temporary, ok?” and caught up with her “listen to me” he stopped her by jumping in front of her and grabbing her hands “Shannon tried to do good, we really need an assistant and she knows the business, ok? And Val isn't coming back ever, you have to believe me! I swear I don't want this to come between us, you're all that matters to me, not Shayla, not Val, not Sean, I don't care about them, I only care for you, I love you”. Coco took a deep breath and looked at him “I love you too..in my heart I know where I want us to be..but it's always one thing after the other, I just want to have some peace and quiet” she sighed, grabbing his hand “let's just walk back to the hotel, if anything those three fuckers can be an inspiration for a painting and I definitely need a word with Shannon”. So relieved she wasn't angry, he pulled her against him “fuck them all, this is about us not about them” and kissed her lips, god that man's kisses were pure gold, reassuring, firm, hot, tender and demanding at the same time, she wanted a real life with him, settle down and have millions of babies with him..whoaaaa hold on a minute, getting way ahead here, the only thing she wanted right now was a normal, quiet life together, 'quiet' as in out of the spotlights, not like the soap everyone was expecting it to be.

They took their time to get back to the hotel, talking, connecting, “where would you like to have dinner?” he pushed a kiss in her hair as they turned the street of their hotel, glued to each other. “Anywhere is fine really, as long as it is just you and me” she snuck her hand into the back of his pants, just above the curve of his butt “I think this is my favorite part on your body” she squeezed his warm skin there. “Finally someone who doesn't want me entirely for my massive..” he paused for effect, grinning from ear to ear, “that too of course, but in broad daylight I prefer this bit” she smiled at him but it was Shannon who burst their bubble. “Hey beautiful, and I don't mean you bro” he just skipped down the steps and up to them, but when he wanted to plant a kiss on Harper's cheek she pulled back “that's a little hypocrite, don't you think?” she hissed. Shannon looked at Jay with a panic in his eyes, but he just shrugged to show him that this was none of his business, “why don't you and I take this inside?” she let go of Jared and walked up the steps to the entrance. “Is there something you need to tell me, Shannon, or is this your way of showing me how much you really hate me?” she plopped down on one of the couches in the lobby and zipped open her jacket. “Harper..I..” Shannon was crumbling in front of her eyes, he looked like a little boy that was being put in his place “so Jared told you?” he sighed while his brother came walking in as well and sat down next to her. “Of course he did, did he have to wait until she finally showed up here and you'd make it a nasty surprise? You must really hate me” there it was again, her thinking he hated her, “Coco, I don't hate you, really I don't and it pains me that you think I do, we're in a bit of a pickle here..I mean we really need someone to take over all those tasks we don't have time for and Shayla seemed like the best option”. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat when the waiter brought the coffees Jared had ordered, “both Jared and I know what they've done to you so we've decided to put a special clause in their contract: if they give you even the slightest bit of trouble, they're out”. Coco took her cup and leaned back in her seat, her eyes locking with Jared's for a moment, god he was gorgeous, the way he sat there in that beautiful diffuse light, his cheeks rosy from the cold morning walk, he did need a shave though..mind wandering again, take care of the older Leto first. “It's your show and I do realize that I'm a guest on this tour as well so I'm not the one to interfere but I have to admit it shook me” she sipped her coffee, warming her hands on the cup while she glared at Shannon. “I get that but I hope you can forgive me?” Shannon gave her a careful smile “Nope, not just yet anyway” she shook her head and focused back on her coffee.

”I think you're the only one who can get under Shannon's skin” Jared smiled, sipping his tea “look at him, he's completely shook up”, Harper put her cup back down and nervously ran her hand through her hair “I didn't mean to, I don't want him to think I'm an egotistical bitch who thinks this is all about her because I don't, maybe I should go and apologize..”. Jared pulled her closer and kissed the side of her head “Oh no, you don't! Let him stew for a bit, let it sink in..” while his brother shuffled back over to the lounge “we have to go..uhm..Harper, wanna come along?”. Harper grabbed her bag “no, I'm gonna try out all those beautiful colors, you know..just keeping sane” and stood up, Jared pulled her against him and whispered “you sure? I don't want to miss you”. Her finger ran over his leather jacket “I'm sure, I take it she'll be landing shortly? And I don't want to be confronted with her just yet..I'll miss you too, but at least we'll be doing something we both love to do” why did this beautiful freak have to be so damn sexy? He was talking just now about getting under someone's skin, but damn he, his name, his whole being was already tattooed a million times under her skin. “Ok..I love you, remember that” he whispered, unable to leave her lips alone, “too mushy, Leto, too damn mushy” she acted all tough, but her inner voice wanted to scream that she loved him too, more than he could ever imagine, but to be that vulnerable? Oh no, not in a million years, she had been too vulnerable in the past and look where it got her, nope, she was a tough cookie and she could resist anything. Something as normal and simple as watching him leave almost became unbearable, this had to stop, she hated being so dependent, not being, feeling, definitely feeling, there was a difference! The van that took him away hadn't even turned the corner or her phone bleeped

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Not my first but definitely my last!

Babe,

Just stop me from popping the question, because I'm about to, put my feet back on the ground because right now I don't see any reason why I shouldn't just ask you to marry me.

My love for you is scaring me

Loveyouloveyouloveyou

Your fool Jay

Her heart hammered in her chest, whatwhatwhatwhat? She read it again, he actually did ask..wait no, get it together De Robiano

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Re: Not my first but definitely my last

Oy Leto,

Did you drink paddo-tea? I'm just gonna ignore this because you're probably gonna eat those words by tonight, why? If you're asking me to stop you from asking, then I'm stopping you here and now! Breathe! Think about how impulse marriages don't work in 95% of the time, feeling better? Good!

That being said, I love you too, very much, you adorable fool of mine

Coco

Hitting the 'send' button, her heart sank, there was no turning back anymore, did she ever think or want to get married? God no, but with him? Absolutely! Ah well, too late now, what are you thinking, they had known each other a couple of weeks, no ok, done, ridiculous idea!..or not?..paint Coco, just paint!

#jared leto #jared leto fan fic #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #30secondstomars #30 Seconds To Mars #30secondstomars fanfic #a man on fire #chapter 54 #caroline18mars #Harper and Jared #Harper Coco

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harley-quinnn · 6 years

Text

Not Afraid Anymore

Jared Leto x Reader

Prompt: Merry Christmas harls! ❤️ Can I request a Jared x reader based on Not Afraid Anymore by Halsey? It doesn’t have to be a song fic but the concept

{A/N} I kind of pictured this as a prelude to Violent Delight halfway into writing it, since I mentioned in that story that the reader had already met him at a show months prior! This was so fun and once I got to writing it, I couldn’t stop! It is not a song fic, but just based on the concept of the song. I hope ya like it, puddin’! xo Harley

Warnings: Sexy sex. Daddy kink, choking, gagging, a slap or two, teasing that probably killed me more to write. (Also a very, very disgruntled best friend.)

“I can’t believe we’re here!” You enthused, your wide eyed friend hopping in place a few times as she waited in line beside you.

You won them on the radio, the VIP tickets to the show. At first, you weren’t even sure if you should even try to call the station, but knowing just how badly you and your friend Claire wanted to attend the meet and greet with Thirty Seconds to Mars, you figured there was nothing to lose.

“God.. If he touches me, I’m going to scream,” Claire said emphatically, her eyes rolling back at the thought before she grabbed onto your shoulders. “What if we get invited to stay behind or something!?”

“Claire, please. It’s us and a million others right now. We should just be lucky we’re here at all,” you gently remind her, your eyes drifting toward the long line ahead of you, and then to the rest of it behind you.

She pouted, her perfectly rosy cheeks puffing out as she blew a few strands of brown hair from her angelic face, reminding you of an upset toddler.

“I can dream, can’t I?” She asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Yes! Of course. Just don’t get your hopes up too high,” you said.

Claire was the dreamer, always excited, always hoping for the most unlikely situation. She helped balance out your usual level-headed-ness. It was fun to play pretend, but you didn’t necessarily want to play groupie, you just wanted a chance to meet the man you adored; and adore him in your mind where no one could hear you scream as he stared you in the face and pretended to care that you were there.

It seemed like only seconds passed when the entire room began to shout with joy. Your eyes shut automatically as you lifted your brows, your hand reaching to rub your ear as you looked around the room again. Claire was hanging over the edge of the rope that held the line together, waving her thin, pale arm frantically at the front of the room. You decided it was safe to assume Jared and Shannon had finally arrived.

As much as you wanted to get caught up in the overwhelming wave of excitement, all you desired was to catch a glimpse of Jared up close and in the flesh. Try as you might- no dice. The other members of the crowd were in your way and weren’t willing to give up their spots to look at him so easily. You shrugged to yourself and hung back.

I’ll see him later.

Suddenly, you were being swept up in Claire’s arms, a rough hug capturing your frame as she raved.

“I saw him! I saw him! Oh my.. {Y/N}, he’s even more gorgeous up close!”

You forced a smile. You’d ruined her fun enough, you thought.

“Really? I can’t wait.”

“Well didn’t you see him?”

“No, but that’s okay! I will once we get closer.”

She nodded, her demeanor suddenly changing to something like feeling sorry for you as she pulled out her phone and opened the camera. She tousled her brunette locks from under the barrette she wore and reapplied her lipstick. You immediately knew what she was planning.

A pang of jealousy peaked in your chest as she puckered her pout in the camera. You were pretty, sure, but Claire had a way about her that even models didn’t possess. Should her little daydream come true, you were certain you’d have no part in it. Still, she was your best friend, and you set all those feelings aside to be happy for her. You gave a soft nudge to her side.

“You don’t need to do all that. I’m sure he’ll fall in love the moment he lays eyes on you.”

The color red that painted her cheeks was like none you’d seen before as she quickly put her phone and lipstick back in her pocket. She suddenly gave you a shy smile and an even shyer shrug.

The crowd roared again and the photos began. You could only catch glimpses of the camera flash, and hear his voice laughing and carrying on with fans amidst the chatter of everyone else. The line seemed to move agonizing slow; He seemed to take his time with everyone, and so did Shannon. Butterflies began to kick up in your stomach as you drew near enough to see his handsome face. Before you knew it, there was only one other person ahead of you. You’d both turned away from the scene, not wanting to lose your heads prematurely.

“We’re so close!” Claire squealed, clasping her hands together as she looked at you.

“You’re next!” You heard from behind, the familiar velvety voice that you’d grown so infatuated with over the years musically filling your ears.

Claire lost it, tears of joy welling up in her eyes as she pushed past you and headed right into Jared’s arms, embracing him in an unashamed hug. You quickly felt betrayed. She was hogging him all to herself, not even giving you a chance to say hello. When you finally approached them, he was teasing her; pulling the hat from her head, tracing his fingers over the writing on the sleeves of the bands shirt she had on. You were a ghost next to them as you approached Shannon, who automatically noticed your upset mood despite your forced grin.

“Don’t look so sad!” He said. “I’m not Jared but I’m just as cool. Better yet- cooler.”

“No! Oh my gosh, no. I love you!” You gushed, your emotions doing a complete turn around as he swept you into his arms for a big hug. You had almost forgotten about the scene playing out next to you.

Claire always got what she wanted.

The photographer gathered you, Claire, Jared and Shannon, and counted down for the photo. You smiled, despite feeling like you didn’t even get a chance to smile in Jared’s direction. You adored Shannon, and he was so kind. Though they both had your loyalty, Jared would always be your favorite.

A click of the camera and you were done. Just like that, you were being shuffled off by assistants to make room for the next fan. You gave Shannon another hug before he turned his attention to the person behind you. Your eyes remained on the floor as you passed by Claire giving Jared her last bits of affection in hopes for an invitation back to the tour bus, or wherever he might be staying. You bowed your head just slightly, becoming invisible and blending into the background just as you were used to.

Walking past them, you felt a knot in your stomach that pushed its way to your throat as you tried not to cry out of hurt and just a twinge of anger.

That was, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He asked, stopping you dead in your tracks as you came face to face with the Jared Leto.

“I..” You looked at Claire, who might as well have been hooked away from him like an actor in an old fashioned play. “I’m {Y/N}.”

Your eyes met his again, and you swallowed hard, trying to push the feeling of crying and excitement away all at once.

“Jared, we have to get going,” an assistant said, nervously eyeing the people next in line who were chatting with Shannon.

“I didn’t get to talk to {Y/N}, just give me a minute please,” he told her kindly and calmly, turning aside to speak to you.

You couldn’t believe he was stopping the entire order of things just to make sure he said hello to you. Maybe dreams did come true. Still, you felt bad for getting him in trouble and messing with the schedule.

“Thanks for coming. I’m glad to see you here,” he grinned.

“Oh, I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” you said meekly, trying desperately to keep your blush at bay as you stood before him. “You don’t have to keep everyone waiting, though, I’ll get out of your way.”

“No, it’s okay! I love meeting you guys. It seems like we just didn’t get enough time together. Please, stay.”

Stay.

Where you had almost turned to leave, you shifted back to your position in front of him, finally allowing your eyes to really drink him in. He was tall and slender, his athletic build hidden under the long sleeved shirt he wore. His long locks were lustrous and his blue eyes reminded you cold pools on a hot summer day. His jawline could cut ice and his hands were masculine, but still held a touch of softness. An image of his hand trailing down your bare waist flashed in your mind, bringing the blush in your countenance forward again.

“Are you sure? I think my friend Claire sucked up enough camera time,” you joked shyly.

Every move he made was smooth as he rested his hand on your upper arm, shaking his head and rolling his eyes playfully at your statement.

“Oh, actually,” he started as though recalling a distant memory before turning to the photographer and assistant. “We didn’t get a picture together, let’s get one,” he said, waving his finger lightly at the camera before taking his place next to you.

His arm reached around you in a half-embrace, and what he said next, in a low and gentle tone, just loud enough for you to hear, shocked you.

“You’ve got a very beautiful face. The rest of you is just as amazing.”

There was no doubt your expression was full of surprise and bashfulness when the photographer looked at his camera’s screen and suggested taking a new photo.

“Take a few!” Jared enthused before looking down at you.

“Me?” You asked with a grin, suddenly surging with a confidence you knew was only going to last a few more minutes. “Did you tell Claire that, too?”

“Not so shy anymore, are we?” He smirked as the camera shutter sounded, your eyes fixed on his.

“She’s pretty, no doubt. But I prefer you. You weren’t clamoring for my attention like miss Dirty Diana over there,” he quipped, referencing the Michael Jackson song every musician knew like the back of their hand.

“Well, I don’t really need to fawn all over someone to get what I want,” you responded, and the look on his face screamed ‘impressed.’

“You ever try your luck with the devil, sweetheart?” He asked in a raspy tone, sending your senses atwitter. “When I play, I play to win.”

Claire was absolutely your best friend, but in the moment, she had already cast you aside in an attempt at Jared. You quickly peered over your shoulder as you noticed her still being shuffled back into the crowd that had already had their time with the band. Still hurt over her total disregard for you, you decided to look out for yourself instead of worry about her.

Your heart couldn’t pump fast enough as you continued to absorb his words. You quickly feel as though you’d just gotten yourself into something you’d been dying for, but hadn’t had time to prepare for. What you wanted, desired, was impure, and it seemed like he was just the man for the job.

“Game on, then,” you spoke just loud enough for him to hear, noticing a darker kind of smirk slide across his features shortly there after.

Though Claire had been the hopeful one all night, it seemed like you were getting your (and her) every dream. Lust was a hell of a drug, and it seemed he liked you more than just taking one hit.

The camera shuttered once more as he bent down to kiss your cheek for a photo, your eyes closing instantly with a flirty grin. Before he pulled away, he pressed his lips to your ear.

“Stay after the meet and greet.. Just you. For me?”

You looked back up at him, noticing the gleam in his eye as he pressed his palms together and gave you a pleading smile.

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

His face lit up like the crystal ball on New Year’s Eve as he squeezed your shoulder and discreetly instructed the assistant to lead you to the green room of the venue. Her eyes snapped from yours to his, then back again before she sighed and obeyed his order- something you assumed happened quite often to anyone he may have spoken to.

“Come on,” she urged, clearly annoyed before walking past him and toward a large door.

You looked at Jared one last time, and he threw you a wink before turning to meet the people in line behind you with an enthusiastic expression.

Following closely behind the woman leading you past the door and down a hallway, your eyes roamed around the mostly empty space. She stopped at another door before pulling a key from her pocket and swiftly sliding it into the doorknob.

“It’s not everyday he asks this,” she assured you, but something in the back of your head told you otherwise.

“Just take a seat anywhere,” she said again as the door popped open, revealing a large room void of anyone else, clad with couches, snacks and vintage arcade and pinball machines that silently flashed fun colors. “And please don’t talk to anyone else. I could get in so much trouble for this.”

The atmosphere of the room was nothing like you were expecting. It was dimly lit, one would even say completely dark, save for the bright glowing neon signs that hung on the walls paired with lava lamps and faux candles that falsely burned on tables. It was an aesthetic dream as you stepped inside, and it took an immense amount of effort not to lose your head over the room itself.

When you turned to thank her, she had already disappeared, the door cracked open just an inch. You suddenly felt unsure of why you were there. He could’ve had anyone else.. Claire, mostly. Why me? You moved to plop down on one of the couches and pull your phone from your pocket. A sense of dread washed over you at the thought of checking your texts, knowing Claire’s name would be there. Cringing, you unlocked your phone.

Thirty-seven new text messages. Only one of them was from your mom hoping you were having a good time. You replied to her without bothering to glance at Claire’s messages before locking your phone again. She would just have to deal with it.

A bowl of skittles on the table looked awfully appetizing as you soaked in the room, leaning forward from the couch to pick at it. Even the flavors seemed to come alive more than usual as you awaited his appearance in the doorway.

Time passed quickly, too quickly as your heart hammered in your chest harder with every passing moment. Before too long, you stood up, thinking of leaving.

But, what if?

It was a chance you didn’t want to take. Instead, you walked toward the arcade machines, lingering around them slowly as you thought about just what happened tonight. It was even more unnerving to think about what was possibly to come.

You weren’t as experienced as your friend, but you knew enough. Though you’d had the chance to act on your deepest fantasies, something always held you back. It was a strange fear that kept you; maybe of attachment, maybe of simply liking it too much. Because of that you remained vanilla most of your sexual life, save for the places you’d gotten down and dirty.

You’d heard the rumors about him, you’d seen the signs in his music and in his speech. The gifs on Tumblr and the way he like to tease the audience during concerts. Still, there was the slightest pang of worry as you wondered if that was what he was expecting. If he assumed you’d be just as into the darker side as he was.

You wanted it, him and all things that came with him, there was no doubt about it. Who wouldn’t want him? But that faint panic started running through your body as you realized if those rumors were true, you wouldn’t just be on your back on the couch for twenty minutes. You’d be apart of something darker, rougher; something sickeningly beautiful.

Your skin crawled at the thought. You wanted to try it so badly, to finally give up control and act on impulse. The fear almost melted away as another image flashed through you mind; his hand pulling on your hair, his teeth in your neck. There was electricity in the air as you caught yourself breathing just a bit heavier, running your finger along the tops of the arcades and pinball machines one by one as you walked past them as slow as molasses.

He seemed into me- maybe laid on the charm a little thick.. but if he didn’t like me at all, he wouldn’t have. Would he? Sure, he teased Claire, but he didn’t ask her to stay behind. He could have anyone tonight.. he could have anyone ever. Why me?

Your thoughts trailed back to what the woman said as she opened the door in the first place.

“But why?” You asked yourself quietly in the silence of the room.

“Because you’re different,” the intoxicating voice you’d know anywhere chimed in from the doorway, starling you as you curtly turned to face him.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you coming,” you said, a soft, nervous laugh escaping you.

“You will,” he quipped quickly before continuing on, the joke making your emotions leap. “Sorry, that took a little longer than usual. It was a crazy crowd tonight.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him before making his way to the same bowl of skittles on the table, picking up a handful and walking towards you.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, attempting with every ounce of might not to lose your mind completely as you watched his every move in awe. He was even more charming and enamoring alone, without having to keep a guard up to defend himself from hundreds of people at once. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip gently, you turned around quickly to hide your face from him, absentmindedly eyeing the flashing pinball machine you’d stopped in front of.

“You like them?” He asked as he stood next to you, gesturing to the glowing machines.

“Oh yeah. They remind me of my childhood, actually. I used to hang out at the arcade and.. do stupid stuff with my friends.”

“I always liked the green room here. Every venue is different, but this one stuck with me.”

His attitude was cool and aloof, but never to the point of completely uncaring. It was immediately disarming as you cracked a smile.

“You must see the inside of so many of these places.”

“I do,” he said. “Everywhere is different. But sometimes, you find that one element that makes a place worth remembering.”

“Just one? What’s the element here?” You asked, curious.

“Tonight, it’s you.”

Your breath remained in your lungs as you stilled beside him, your eyes daring to drift from the pinball machine to meet his heart stopping gaze. Every time you looked at him felt like the first time. Your words weren’t available to you as you held his stare. The tension building couldn’t be cut with a knife, but rather something more of a chainsaw as you tried to gather yourself.

“Don’t be nervous,” he finally said, his tone soft as he stepped back a bit. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s really not the case,” you quickly responded, you eyes closing for just a second. “I’m, so, so far from uncomfortable.”

Where you had no words before, you were suddenly revealing too much. Nervous, yes, uncomfortable, absolutely not. It was bad enough you were completely infatuated with him, it was even worse he was into you, too- even worse in all the good ways, anyway. If only for the night.

You were stuck between going as far as you’d always wanted, to politely declining anything other than a hug and a conversation and being on your way. In that moment, you refused the thought of the latter.

“Are you?” He asked, his tone gruff, yet still soft.

“Yes,” you assured, your voice breathier than you anticipated it to be. “But I am a little intimidated.”

He noticed it too, breathing a soft chuckle as he moved to push some hair from your face, his hand staying on the side of your head tenderly.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t intend that.. Not maliciously, or anything,” he added nonchalantly with a faint, lighthearted grin.

A soft giggle emitted from your lips and you rolled your eyes playfully before his hand slid from your head to the side of your neck. When his eyes traveled from yours to your lips, you could almost hear the blood rushing to your cheeks again.

“Do you always blush so easily?” He smirked. “It’s precious.”

Bringing a hand to your cheek, words spilled past your lips without any way to control it. “You’re just, far more handsome than even I expected,” you gushed and looked away, unable to reel it back as your hand gripped onto the pinball machine behind you. “And I can’t help but want you.”

Your breathing grew staggered as he moved closer. There was something even more alluring about him in person, and you knew you were about to crumble to pieces when he leaned in and gripped onto your chin, turning you to face him in a rougher manner than you were used to.

“How do you want me?” he asked under his breath, leaning over you against the machine as his free hand gripped onto it beside you.

That was all you needed. The darker, submissive side to you would be hidden away no longer. There was something you needed that you felt only he could give you. His grip got just a bit tighter on your chin as you inhaled, holding his dangerous gaze. The masochistic craving you felt in your loins was insatiable as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Hard and fast,” you breathed, your slightly trembling hand moving to grip onto the collar of shirt as he leaned you back just a bit more. “Destructive.. I’m not afraid anymore.”

He didn’t waste any time. He picked you up and threw you onto the pinball machine, his lips meeting yours like there was a magnet attracting him to you. His kiss was suffocatingly deep as he parted your lips, smearing your nude-colored lipstick on your mouth as his hands explored your body. The taste of his lips was sweet as the candy he’d just ingested, sending you into a whirlwind of heaven. Still trembling just slightly, you moved your hand to touch his flesh; to finally get what you’d been dying to have for years. You hardly realized you were digging your fingers into his back when he pulled away for just a moment, ripping his shirt off of his toned body and exposing the tattoo on his chest you’d always dreamt of running your tongue over. You kicked your heels off quickly, wrapping your ankle behind his body as the intensity heightened between you.

He tugged you down closer to the edge of the surface he had you on, ripping your shirt off before pressing his lips back to yours with a force to them you’d never felt from anyone before. Your nether regions burned with a desire that you’d only heard of in movies as you pushed back, kissing him with same fervency he was giving you. A soft groan filled the air, and it was all Jared needed to hear as his hands tugged at your jeans, yanking them down your legs and dropping them to the floor. Without warning, you felt his hand on your barely clothed sex, pressing his fingertips against it roughly.

“Such a sweet girl, and yet so filthy..” he growled as his lips trailed down your neck roughly; a mixture of bites and kisses peppering your skin.

You brought his head against your flesh harder, your eyes falling shut as you moaned under his touch. The emotions and sensations within you bubbled like champagne in a glass with every word he spoke. There was no stopping the immense amount of arousal that he inflicted on you with every coy sentence; with every ounce of affection.

“Harder,” was all you could manage, and he swiftly obeyed.

His teeth sunk further into your skin, his finger rubbing circles over your engorged clit before slapping it a few times. Each slap sent a warm electric shock from your core to every other centimeter of your body, eliciting a new, delicate moan from you every time.

“Already, sweetheart?” He taunted softly. “Damn, such a fucking slut for daddy.. And I haven’t even fucked you, yet.”

His voice was gruff and full of lust as he spoke. He stood up again, shoving you down onto the pinball machine, rattling the pieces inside of it as his hand gripped around your throat. His other hand moved to tear your panties off your body. You gasped, opening your legs for him as he stood between them, rubbing his groin against your core through his pants. You watched as he bit his lower lip, his eyes roaming over your body lecherously as he gave your neck another squeeze. There was no question he was getting harder in his pants as he did so. It was enough to get you going even more, the thought of being the reason he needed you just as and much as you needed him.

“Then fuck me.. I want you to push me completely.. No limits,” you begged.

He lifted a brow with a smirk, his eyes landing on your pussy, glistening under the buzzing neon lights as he drew a breath between his teeth. It all drove you further up the wall with every passing second. He was addicting already, like a sweet kind of venom that you never knew you needed rushing through your bloodstream.

“No limits, huh?” he pondered, his hand moving to pull his length from his pants, still pinning you down with the other.

“None. I want it all. All your wrath..”

“Such dirty words coming from such an innocent face, {Y/N}..” he said, tapping the head of his shaft against your swollen folds a few times, eliciting a whimper from you.

With one, quick thrust, he pushed his large member into your core, your mouth slightly agape as you inhale at the sudden pleasure laced with the slightest twinge of a blissful pain. He was bigger than you were expecting, filling you up with no issue, but as he began to rock back and forth, the sensation quickly melted into nothing but pure, unadulterated euphoria. There was nothing like it, the high he had you running off of as you fit his rigid member like a glove.

“Oh, daddy..” you mewled, not used to such a filthy term coming from your lips, but aroused even more just at the opportunity to use it.

Jared picked up the pace, his hand dragging itself down your breasts before squeezing each of them over your favorite bra. Your leg pushed him even closer to your body as it bounced underneath him. He slid his hand beneath your bra next, pinching and tugging at your taut nipples as you moaned out his name, watching him bite into his lip as you did so.

Your senses tinged right along with his own as your shoulder blades pressed against the hard glass surface he had you on top of. When you moved to prop yourself up on your shoulder, his hand quickly met your cheek with a slap before smearing his thumb over your lip and grabbing your chin again, shoving you back down against the machine as he thrusted into you harder, his fingertips connecting with you cheek again. Your tight walls clenched around his solid cock, only offering the both of you more friction to get off on as he kept it up.

“You don’t move unless I move you,” he rasped, his hand moving to rub your clit again, this time with more pressure.

You were on cloud nine as you took every inch as deeply as he could possibly give it to you, crying out between gasps. His grunting was temperature rising, his moaning almost too hot for you to handle, and when saw his hand move to tear the belt that hung on his pants from its place, a whole new sensation of need appeared.

Your back arched as he ran it over your skin, the material was cold and smooth as he curtly leaned over you, and held it over your mouth, his hands on either side of your head as he fucked into you relentlessly.

It was obvious, plainly obvious, that he was only using you to tease himself as he began to slow down, towering over your helpless frame as one hand gripped onto the back of the pinball machine above you, the other squeezing your own breast with an eagerness to feel everything at once. His skin was just slightly damp as he pulled his thick cock out slowly, then pushing into your sweet spot again at the same pace, over and over.

“That tight little pussy is all mine, isn’t it kitten?” he groaned, his expression intense as he watched you with the belt over your mouth.

You bit into it, whimpering with a nod as your nails clawed at his shoulder, next. Your hips lifted to collide with his groin as you tilted your head back against the machine. He let go for a moment, the material still hanging over your mouth as he lifted your legs over his shoulders. His hand swiftly met your backside, slapping it violently with a firm squeeze before he leaned back over you and held the belt down again. His cock hit your g-spot with such a mouthwatering deliciousness, that you began to feel overwhelmed with pleasure; tears forming in your waterline. All you wanted was more of him, to feel the beautiful release that he was building you up to. Your stomach was in glorious, anticipatory knots as he continued.

“So helpless, trying to play with me like you can handle it..”

He lifted the belt just a bit so you could respond, a glint in his eye as he smirked down at you, still thrusting slowly.

“I can, baby..” you assured, your tone just as helpless as he knew it would be; just as desperate to please him.

With that, he pushed into you all at once again roughly, a cry falling from your lips as your chest heaved. You were close, so close. How he managed to get this far himself was beyond you as he chuckled, low and sensually.

“Does that feel good, baby girl?” he asked, taunting you now as he mercilessly stroked into you harder.

“Oh, fuck.. Yes, daddy! Fuck me!”

Your pussy throbbed around him, leaving you no time to keep your climax at bay as you finally let go. When he noticed you were at the finish line, he threw the belt aside and reached for your neck, squeezing it just right as your body writhed in response. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your veins, sending a warm, sizzling sensation through your core. When he felt your walls squeeze his length repeatedly, he let himself go, too. A carnal groan bolting out of him like a freight train as his thrusts grew harder and animalistic. Riding out his ecstasy only helped you into another release as your overstimulated center sent nerve singing ripples of the most intense orgasm you’d ever felt- alone or with someone else.

“That’s right baby, cum for daddy.. Let me feel that pussy cum just for me,” he groaned into the open air.

Your pulsing clit was sensitive, only growing increasingly more sensitive as he reached to slap it over and over before his hands slid to grip onto your hips violently, thrusting into you with the same urgency as before.

Leaving you breathless and senseless all at once while he spilled inside of you was just the game he wanted to play. His fingers digging into your soft skin was painful, adding to the amazing feeling between your thighs as your swollen pussy swallowed his throbbing shaft with ease.

Jared’s eyes were glued to yours as you shuddered beneath him, watching your every reaction intently. It only got him off even harder on the fact that it was all because of him. The immense wetness that was dripping from your center made him slide in and out of you swiftly, your moaning turning into a soft whining as he slowed down, pushing back into you a few more times before finally pulling out with a sigh of satisfaction.

He set your legs back down and pulled at his pants, fixing himself again as you laid on the pinball machine, heaven in your eyes and mind. Suddenly, you wondered if you were going to be able to walk at all as a soreness replaced the fullness you’d just felt.

Giving into him, getting what you wanted, it all felt surreal as you looked up at the ceiling. The sex was rough and on fire, a total one-eighty from what you were used to. It was exciting, and honestly? Igniting. You wanted more of him, so much more. You wanted the darkness and the rage; the violence and the loss of control. You’d just gotten it all, but you were still hungry for him; still hungry for more. If what you’d just experienced was any indication, you were fast on your way to the sick and twisted desire you shared with him, no longer afraid to give it and receive it. Jared had satisfied you thoroughly, but as you laid on the pinball machine with an aching between your legs, you realized when it came to him, there was no way you’d ever be completely finished

A deep breath was all you allowed yourself before sitting back up, the puddle underneath you coating the back of your thighs as you looked for your clothes on the floor. He moved to pick up your jeans and panties, handing them back over to you with a smirk.

“Do you live around here?” he asked, and you almost couldn’t believe he’d moved into regular conversation so quickly.

You reminded yourself that he was Jared Leto, after all. You were probably just one out of a million when it came to tour flings. You attempted to shake the envy quickly.

“Yeah, just about twenty minutes away,” you breathed, still trying to bring yourself back down as you carefully took your clothes back.

You slid off of the pinball machine and into the articles of clothing he handed back to you.

“I get back home in a few months.. Maybe we can hang out again.”

The snort that escaped you wasn’t meant to be rude, but it was inevitable.

“You want to see me again?”

He mocked the expression on your features playfully with a light chuckle. “Of course I do. Are you kidding?”

You grabbed your shirt off the floor, slipping into it and looking at him meekly.

“Sorry, I just.. You’re.. You know, you can have anyone.” “Oh, I just spent all that time giving you my undivided attention and you still think I’d want to give it to someone else?”

“I know how you sweet talking band guys work,” you retorted, showing him you weren’t just another naive girl, even if you felt like it.

“So you’ve done this before?” he quipped, a sly grin on his features.

“No! I just.. Assume. You’re all a special kind of breed..” You stammered, huffing and regrouping as he stepped closer to you. “ What I meant is, I don’t expect you to all of a sudden be in love with me endlessly and want to give up.. Tour life,” You stated, knowing he knew exactly what you meant.

He chuckled again softly, shaking his head as he wrapped a hand around your waist, looking down into your {E/C} eyes.

“Where’s your phone? I’ll give you my personal line.”

You hesitated, studying his expression as you reached into your back pocket, suddenly glad it didn’t slip out during your rendezvous. When you pulled your phone out, he took it gently from your hand, unlocking it to put his number into your contacts.

“Claire is pissed,” he joked, drawing out his words as he lifts his brows, his thumb scrolling through the thread.

Had it been anyone else, you might’ve been mad that he went through your messages with her like that. However, he was different already, and she was showing her ass.

“Oh, yeah… She was hoping it would was going to be her getting railed tonight. Definitely not me.”

He laughed, looking at you and saving his contact.

“Getting railed, huh? Such a lady,” he joked.

You blushed in return as he slipped your phone into your back pocket for you, a soft giggle emitting from your chest as he gave your rear a firm squeeze. A faint pain made itself known under his hand from where he’d spanked you earlier, and you chewed on your lower lip.

“You know there’s more where that came from, right? Pushing your limits.. I’ve barely started.”

His icy stare landed on yours, a silent moment hanging between you as your breath hitched nervously in your chest all over again. Something told you if he did ever call you again, he’d just keep going. He’d keep going harder and harder every time you saw each other, until you were completely devoted to his every need. You were about to respond when-

“{Y/N}! What the fuck! How could you just leave me like that?!” you heard Claire calling out, the door swinging open and slamming into the wall behind it.

“As if on cue..” he said under his breath to you.

You jumped, trying to calm back down as Jared turned to face her.

“You must be Claire,” he grinned, and she automatically melted at his presence.

“Oh, yes.. Hi, again,” she said, pouring the flirt on thick. “Fancy meeting you here, babe.”

He only smiled, turning back to you and pulling you close with one arm before leaning in to plant a passionate kiss on your lips. When he pulled away, he winked and headed for the door. “Text me your address. I’ll call you when I’m back,” he said, grabbing his shirt from the couch he threw it on in the heat of your moment and walking cockily out of the room. “Be good, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the grin on your lips as you thought about what just happened. When you turned to Claire, you saw envy, confusion and rage written all over her features as she seethed, practically chomping at the bit to ask what the hell any of that was; but she didn’t need to ask. You simply shrugged, suddenly uncaring of her behavior.

“What can I say? He’s one hell of a guy.”

#jared leto x reader #jared leto #jared leto fanfiction #fanfiction #joker x reader #the joker #harley quinn #smut #jared leto smut #thirty seconds to mars #30 Seconds To Mars #fanfic #one shot

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margridarnauds · 6 years

Note

Director's Cut: Paradise Lost?

Thanks! I know I mentioned it before, but I’m really excited to talk about this one!

Paradise Lost

My newest child, whom I love even though I have no idea how I’m going to feel about it in a couple of months.

The full backstory to it is that me and @janetcarter were talking Terra Nova, as we are wont to do, since we have our own batshit insane version of that show that only really makes sense to us. (It involves bondage dinosaurs, authoritarian regimes, oppressed Americans, spray bottles, 1789, and about 867% more gay than the original show could have possibly conceived of.) And they’ve been rewatching it, so they’ve been kind of liveblogging it to me, and we were discussing Taylor being an authoritarian bag of dicks again. (This is an ongoing conversation; it’s great.)

And they made the mistake of saying this:

And it eventually led to me doing a half-mad rant that would form the skeleton of Paradise Lost. In the annotations, see the original text in italics VS the final text.

“YEP.

“DIRTY WORK.”

“THERE’S NO OTHER WAY I CAN INTERPRET THAT ONE” “MAYBE SHE DOESN’T KNOW THE FULL DETAILS ABOUT PHILBRICK BUT YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS SHE KNOWS *SOMETHING*”

And, from there on, it was all Paradise Lost. I ended up copying and pasting those messages in a GDocs file, edited it, added some description and a few plot points, and within a day I had a one-shot.

So, I accidentally wrote a one-shot out in a Tumblr pm and I was just like, “You know what? Fuck it. I need to write a one-shot out of this. My productivity’s been low recently, anyway. Merry Christmas, Avery, hohoho. Have some angst.”

It was actually really exciting, in a sense, because this is a totally different setting than I’ve been working with for the last year and it was a chance to expand my horizons, even though, as has been HELPFULLY pointed out to me, it’s still set in the past. Just…millions of years ago as opposed to just hundreds. I played myself there.

(Annotations under cut)

Taylor’s kid talks when he’s drunk.

Pretty much the first new sentence that I knew I was going to include. I really like the idea of Mira addressing Lucas mainly as “Taylor’s kid,” like, despite him being a pretentious little prick who thinks he’s a genius, she still views him as a whiny kid.

It’s something they put up with for the sake of the mission, he comes in, gives them their marching orders, and takes a bottle or two of moonshine, the pink-purple liquid spilling across his lips along with the stories.

The fruit they come from is called “Frut” and it’s an ongoing joke between me, Avery, and @elluka, so it only made sense for me to include it here as an in-joke. Lucas loves that sweet frut juice.

Also: It is 100% canon that they make alcohol from it. I ended up having to look up what dragonfruit juice looks like to make sure this would be as authentic as possible.

Not that she cares enough to make sense of the stuff, to Mira they’re all the same as those calculations he draws out on the rocks in bold white chalk, rambling on and on.

Most of the others, they’re smart enough to avoid him, they’ve been out here long enough to know a Slasher in the woods when they see one. So, that means Mira’s the one to keep him company, giving him another when his stock runs out, praying that there’s enough left over to keep up morale, because that’s always a problem in a hellpit like this.

People get lonely, start thinking about the past, wanting things that they can’t have. The alcohol, even if it’s weak compared to the real stuff, helps them drown it out for a little while, though she doesn’t take it.

Sadly enough, we get so little Sixer development that we don’t really know what morale’s like in-camp, the show’s too busy telling us that these are Bad People because they oppose God Emperor Taylor, but I would suspect that, given that unlike the colony, they only ever intended to be here temporarily, it would have to be pretty miserable. How long were they told it would be? A couple of months, a year? After all the years it would be, I can only imagine the homesickness from some or the resignation from others.

Tl;dr: Yeah, I suspect they would be bargaining with Boylan for some of that frut juice or they have a still in-camp, though it probably has to take a backburner to more important things like medicine and food.

Instead, she keeps Sienna’s face in her head at all times, wrapping herself around it, thinking of her bright smile as she’d walk through the door, dropping the raggedy toy that Mira’d got her after a mission as she ran to greet her. (She tries to think of whether it was a T-Rex with the faded red fabric and the drooping limbs with the stuffing worn out of them or a spinosaurus, and when she can’t, she feels the need to get out of this place and back into the real world like a jolt in her brain.)

The reference to Sienna’s toy came in fairly late, but I actually really liked it, because (1) It adds that worldbuilding as far as Mira’s economic situation and (2) It reminds me of a bit from the original script where Terra Nova was HUGE, so of course dinosaurs would be a big thing now, and there’s a certain irony to Mira being sent to destroy something that her daughter loves so much in order to give them a better life. Also, I’d just seen a review for various spinosaurus plushies, so I might have been inspired.

It’s also really important that she refers to 2149 as “the real world,” as her way of distancing herself from whatever she does in Terra Nova, as well as distancing herself from Wash and her feelings for her. “This isn’t real, this is a job, it’s not the real world, it’s an alternative timeline.”

This time, there wouldn’t be another time. She’d get the job done, get home, and give Sienna the life that she deserved. And she doesn’t give a damn about what she has to do to get it. That’s what she tells herself, and it’s what she’ll believe.

One of the things that I really admire about Mira is how FOCUSED she is. That’s something that can be both a major pro, since it means that she’s very driven to get her goals, but it also means that she can be harsh when she feels like other people are falling behind and not focusing, even, say, to a young child like Leah Marcos.

Until then, she’d keep giving Lucas Taylor the moonshine, quietly hoping he’d choke on it, until he wound up drooling on the floor before going off to brood in a cave for the next six months.

In case no one can tell the level of respect I have for Lucas Taylor, Boy Genius.

Alright, but judging from Mira’s interactions with him, she is clearly deeply unnerved, and even though his calculations are necessary for getting her back home…well, if he chokes, it’s not really HER fault. It’s this terrible situation where she’s stuck with him even as she’s clearly scared by him and would probably want him dead under any other circumstances.

“You know what? Those people-I-I feel sorry for them! They’ll never know the truth about the Great Nathaniel Taylor,” he raises his arm suddenly, as if he was trying to give a clumsy toast, spilling moonshine everywhere.

“Seriously, WHY THE HELL wouldn’t Lucas at least tell the Sixers? He knows that to the colony, it’s The Great Nathaniel Taylor, but the Sixers don’t have any stake there”

Uh huh. Daddy Issues story #326 - Been there, done that, she thinks as she wipes some of the sticky liquid off of her cheek.

This was honestly one of my favorite lines to write. One of the things that I mentioned to Avery while I was live-blogging writing this is how much I honestly LOVE Mira’s POV, given how incredibly snarky she is. It’s like she’s aware of what show she’s a part of and she’s dedicated herself to ripping it apart.

I’m so used to working with viewpoint characters who were born centuries ago it was honestly a bit refreshing, as much as I love Lazare “Javert was busy so they booked me instead” de Peyrol and Solène “Women’s motherfucking March on Versailles” Mazurier. Mira is just so fundamentally DIFFERENT, being very blunt and no-nonsense as well as the aforementioned snarkiness, that she was really a treat to work with.

The way the kid talks, you’d almost think that this kind of thing was unusual . They were all soldier’s kids, these days. They’d all had to do what they had to to survive, and not all of them had mommy and daddy propping them up through the early years, either. Going from home to home, place to place, hoping that a bomb wouldn’t explode over their heads, holding a gun in their hand from the first time they could salvage one.

“Lucas was there, and in between crying about his daddy issues…why wouldn’t he expose Taylor to the world?”

It’s always been a pity to me that we really didn’t get all that much backstory development for 2149, except for that it’s a Very Bad Place, pollution, wars, etc., so it was a bit of fun trying to imagine what Mira’s past might have looked like given she’s obviously not as privileged as the Shannons or the Taylors, the former of whom are definitely INSANELY privileged. I have to think of when Taylor’s doing his whole “I survived 118 days in the wilderness” thing and Mira snaps back, “Yeah, we’re going on 1000.” There’s this…edge to her, and it takes a lot to impress her, and I have to think it’s because she’s survived so much that there’s really little that can surprise her.

She makes a non-committal sound in response.

“You don’t believe me, do you? Nobody else does, but you see -” Lucas laughs as he leans forward, and Mira wonders if he’s really lost it this time and what to tell Phoenix Group if their golden boy’s finally cracked under the pressure. “I was there. When my father killed him. And now-Now he wants. To kill me. I know everything, about how General Philbrick tried to get my father to step down, and my father killed him as if he was some carno that’d gotten lose. He buried him under Pilgrim’s Tree, he buried him there and let it rot, but-” Lucas smiles, sharp and predatory, and it hits Mira in the gut that he believes this “He couldn’t kill me. I know the truth.”

She eyes him as he is, trying to run it through her brain. Taylor’s a son of a bitch, but not a murderer. As if he doesn’t notice, he goes on, slamming down his bottle with a dramatic flourish as he spreads his arms out wide, “The great Taylor family tragedy-The mad king, the exiled prince, and, as always, no one listens to the oracle. But it’s all here,” he taps his head, “It’s all right in here. Don’t believe me?” He says, with the smug self-confidence that makes Mira want to punch his teeth out, even smugger with the alcohol. “See for yourself. Remember the name: Richard Philbrick.”

“'Don’t believe me? See for yourself.’ Lucas would say, with that smug self confidence that makes Mira want to punch his teeth out, settling instead for ignoring it.

I really, really hate writing Lucas, because it feels like no one would ever say this, but then I remember that he described his relationship with his father as “A Shakespearian drama that borders on Greek tragedy.” Like a pretentious douche who strings together important-sounding words. But, I do kind of like the idea of him treating himself and his father as just…players in a larger game.

Mira finds herself thinking of it long after he’s back to drooling on the floor, with a hell of a hangover coming in the morning. The kid’s been loose in the wild for too long, everyone knows it. It’s like playing with a tiger to get anything out of him, and most of the time, he speaks in equations, not words, as he holds his brilliance over everyone else’s head. God knows what goes on in his mind.

“And at first Mira wouldn’t believe it, because Lucas is demonstrably unstable + would make up ANYTHING to discredit his father, but as time goes on it makes more sense. And, after all, Philbrick has dropped off the grid”

The line about equations, not words is exactly how I feel whenever he appears on screen and the rest of the characters have to pretend that the words he’s piecing together actually make sense.

And he hates his father. Not that you need to be a genius to know that one. He’d say anything about him, so long as it’d rain on Taylor’s little “big bright beautiful tomorrow” parade. Taylor’s an optimist, always going on about that bright new future for everyone. Peace, love, the American way, all that bullshit. Murdering someone-It’s not his MO. There’s nothing in the three inches-tall dossier they handed off to her the week before she went through Hope Plaza that’d say that.

I had to get “There’s a Big, Bright, Beautiful Tomorrow” stuck in my head for this.

She turns in her hammock, watching the tops of the trees sway gently in the wind through the little netted opening that’s as close as she’s got to a window, as a pteranodon flies across the moon. There are times she could almost get to like this place. She thinks of Sienna and frowns. Almost.

You will never know how pissed I am that we never got to see “Mira’s Lair” as Taylor calls it. I think that they would have to have some form of netting to keep out the mosquitoes and any other creepy crawlies, but yet again, the worldbuilding was shit there and I’m sad.

(She remembers the first time she’d seen the moon, without the pollution there to cover it up or a million lights to dim it, white and gleaming and so big, Wash’s arm, strong and warm, around her as they’d made their way to the colony.)

The kid’s lying, she tells herself, there’s no point in taking the bait.

In the morning, he’s back to scrawling more equations on rocks, and she’s back to taking care of her colony. That should be it.

It isn’t.

It sits there in the back of her mind, buzzing like a little mosquito that she can’t quite swat. She hates that about the kid, how he can get under her skin, make her think.

Taylor as a murderer? It doesn’t fit with that squeaky-clean, messiah complex image he’s tried to work up. Not that he’d be the first. Everyone has their demons, and God knows what’s underneath that benevolent dictator image. But if he was, then…

If he was, then Wash is involved, too. But of course she can’t say that, because that would be admitting it to herself.

I have to think that given the amount of corruption in 2149, Taylor being a bitch wouldn’t be a surprise, and that’s something I tried to show, but that it doesn’t fit HIM (and, more importantly, Mira’s still trying to protect Wash in her mind.)

She ignores it, and ignores it, but it’s still there, in the back of her mind, and finally, she gives in.

“She ignores it, and ignores it, but it’s still there, in the back of her mind”

Is Taylor really capable of that?

“Is Taylor capable of that?”

So she checks. Still being in contact with 2149 has its perks, and she doesn’t have to run that kind of thing by Taylor (convenient, the voice whispers in her ear, that he controls the access to the outside world. She’d always thought it was so no one decided to get stuck on something dangerous like “democracy” or “basic human rights,” but it’d be useful as Hell if he was keeping something a secret.)

“And keep in mind: The Sixers can CONTACT THE OUTSIDE WORLD AND GET THAT INFO”

Philbrick’s missing they say, but there are holes in the record. Missing in South America? It’s the new “went on a long vacation and never came back.” And even if she’s not out there writing equations on rocks, she’s not stupid. Stupid gets you killed, where Mira’s from. Her employers play the evasion game, remind her what she has to lose if she presses, and she folds. Officially. But she knows one thing: Richard Philbrick’s dead, and wherever he is, it’s not South America.

So she checks. Philbrick’s missing they say, but there are all those little holes.”

Honestly, I hate writing any kind of detective work, because it all feels like a reach, so this was a hard section to write. But also absolutely necessary.

Boylan seems to know everything that goes on in the colony, for the right price, and she corners him one day after they’ve just gotten ahold of some medical supplies.

Thank God for Boylan providing the plot-convenient information. Or not providing it, as the case may be. He actually wasn’t planned, but when I was writing it, it felt like I needed more between the web search and Mira making her realization, so Boylan got to make an appearance. Yay, Boylan.

He just shakes his head, “Isn’t enough money in the world to make me tell you that.”

You know it’s bad when Boylan’s not willing to haggle for information. You know, it’s sad when you think of it: Boylan guarded Taylor’s secret faithfully for years, and only gave it away by accident…because he was tortured by the man he’d once considered a friend. Taylor deserved all the fallback from that one.

“You and he used to be old war buddies, now you can’t stand each other. So what happened?” She tilts her head as she stares him down, the way she knows makes her people stand down when they’re being stubborn.

He just shakes his head head again, walking away, and that’s all the confirmation she needs that something’s up.

Philbrick’s disappearance.

Taylor turning on his own kid.

Taylor turning on Boylan.

It all starts to make sense.

But there’s one thing left, one thing she needs: Proof.

The next time Lucas shows up, she glares at him, “The body. Where is it?”

He smirks in response and takes her to Pilgrim’s Tree.

I really debated including this section, because it seems to go against canon, but I couldn’t imagine anything LESS than that convincing Mira, when she knows that the body’s there.

That’s the thing with secrets: They never stay buried, especially if you leave someone alive to tell the tale.

“The thing with secrets is that they NEVER stay secret long” - Literally the first line of the rant that kicked this off.

And the body of a man, missing a limb in just the right place, well, that tells a story all on its own. There’s no point doing anything with it, when all they have’s the word of Taylor’s unstable son and a corpse against a legend. Better to put him back in the ground and wait for when it can be useful. As they cover the body again, spreading dead leaves across the upturned soil so it looks undisturbed, Mira feels her gut twist.

This was my haphazard attempt at keeping things consistent with canon, as much as it could be.

It’s never been personal between her and Taylor. It’s just a job, just like it always was (she tells herself as she thinks of trusting dark eyes sparked by the firelight as Wash sat opposite her, stretching a black hairband absently between her fingers, her black hair loose around her shoulders. That night, she’d forgotten her mission for a moment. Just a moment, but it was enough.)

“And slowly, but surely, things make sense. And honestly, Mira’s horrified, because it was never PERSONAL between her and Taylor. It was a job (she tells herself as she thinks of trusting dark eyes by the firelight).”

It doesn’t really make sense for MIra to have that undercurrent of bitterness that she has towards Taylor in canon; my girl’s a mercenary at nature, I can’t see her taking it personally. But this? Was honestly the first time Mira’s character clicked for me.

Also Wash + her hairband is one of my favorite things, in no part because of the 1789 crossover meaning that she and Laz get to bond over their ponytails. As is Wash sans hairband, because I’m gay. And imagining Wash’s younger, idealistic self honestly hurts, because Mira’s betrayal took so much of that from her.

She knows why she didn’t want to believe it: For Taylor to be capable of it, that means that everything Wash told her, all that bullshit about a better future, is a lie. Wash is always there by Taylor’s side, saying “How high?” even before he says “Jump.” (He doesn’t deserve it, she thinks; if she was with them, she’d be raking in a solid 2 or 3 figures more as a medic alone.) There’s no way she doesn’t know.

“And maybe she doesn’t want to believe it because for Taylor to be capable of it, that means that EVERYTHING Wash told her, about a better future, is a lie. Wash is as complicit as Taylor, she’s always there by his side, there’s no way she doesn’t know.

Also, props to Mira for STILL thinking about how much Taylor doesn’t deserve Wash even as she’s realizing that Wash is complicit in human rights violations.

She’s never been one for the new, better future that Taylor goes on about, about second chances and fresh starts, she has to spend her time on solid ground with what they have now rather than chasing after rainbows and unicorns. But when Wash talked about it, hope in her eyes, Mira’d almost…

And as it all comes together Mira feels a little bit of her heart (which is already mostly hardened, after years of war, years of eat or be eaten only a few inches of red pulsing muscle remain, and it’s for her daughter and Wash) calcify.

And as it all comes together Mira feels a little bit of her heart (which is already mostly calcified, years of war, years of eat or be eaten hardening it, only a few inches of red pulsing muscle remain, and it’s for her daughter and Wash) calcify.

This is one of the bits that remained virtually unchanged from concept to final product, mainly because I really, really liked it, and it’s probably the reason I ultimately ended up writing it down in the first place.

“Still doing Taylor’s dirty work?” She’ll ask, several years later, as Wash looks up at her in-Hatred? Anger? Surprise? Mira blames the smudged black eyeliner for hiding her eyes.

‘Still doing Taylor’s dirty work?’ I know the truth now, is what she’s really saying, I’m not naive anymore.”

Not that it matters. Not anymore.

She’s trying to say that it doesn’t matter what Wash thinks and that she’s over it, but she isn’t. She was still hoping, on some level, for Wash to say something. But then she doesn’t, and so Mira uses her as leverage for what she wants, telling herself that it doesn’t matter because it’s all for the mission, anyway.

I know the truth now, is what she’s really saying, I’m not naive anymore.

I know.

And somehow, it doesn’t feel as good as she thought it would.

This line was the only thing I could think of to end it on, even as I didn’t like it overly much, but I wanted it to be a very bittersweet at best ending from Mira’s perspective. She’s broken free of the lies Taylor told, at least she thinks so, she’s brought Wash down a peg or two, but it can’t be a victory because she really didn’t get what she really wanted, which was for Wash to renounce Taylor and jump in her arms.

My other alternate title was “Prometheus” [which I discarded because (1) It was Lucas levels of pretentious and (2) it centered Lucas rather than Mira], and I feel like both of the titles kind of encapsulates the idea there: You get the knowledge you want, but at what cost?

#long post #my writing #fallenidol-453

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elenajohansenauthor · 6 years

Text

Fictober18, Day 15: “I thought you’d forgotten.”

OCs: Shannon, Noah, and Orlando

Project: Untitled paranormal romance for Fictober18, now tagged #spookyromancenovel on my blog

Potential Triggers: minor recurrence of suicidal ideation, sort of

Word Count: 3,335 (!!!)

About: BIG CHAPTER, BIG REVELATION, lots of me rambling about magic as world-building-while-I-write. Making that world-building more elegant and integrated is high on my list of priorities when I tackle rewriting this; right now I’m just spewing it out as I think of it.

The obscuring light disappeared instantly, and where we found ourselves couldn't have been any more unlike where we started. Gentle candlelight and subdued wall sconces replaced the sputtering streetlights. Dirty asphalt gave way to plush rugs scattered haphazardly over polished hardwood. The room was warm and close and inviting, scented lightly with incense. Piles of richly colored cushions took the place of more standard furniture.

If the smell had been different, I might have wondered if this was how opium dens used to feel.

Orlando was similarly comfortable-looking, a rounded man with deep brown skin, genially handsome without any sharp edges that might intimidate. A faint grin peeked out from his neatly groomed facial hair. “You found me,” he said.

Noah grunted. “You didn't make it easy.”

“It shouldn't be, yet here you are. Welcome to my sanctuary.”

Something rang false in his tone, but I couldn't tease out what it was. Another test?

He motioned at the cushions nearest to his own, a small mountain where he reclined so deeply he was nearly sprawled on his back, like a stranded turtle.

I settled onto a pillow large enough to make a convincing flotation device. Noah found a much thinner one and placed it beside me, bracing himself as upright as possible, losing none of his formidable height and bulk.

If the sight was meant to cow Orlando, he showed no sign of it in his pose or expression.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us,” I began simply, hoping to forestall any further belligerence from Noah.

It didn't work. “I would feel better if you had agreed to help us.”

In preparation for this meeting, I had already told Noah everything Ursula had told me, as well as every word of my telephone conversation with Orlando. I had warned Noah against telling any lies, even half-truths or clever evasions. But if this banked anger was honest, I had to hope Orlando wouldn't take offense.

“I will listen with an open mind,” he replied, “and tell you whatever I can. But I make no promises beyond that. It may not even be in my power to help you.” He crooked his elbow into a cushion and rested his head on his upturned hand, smiling with a touch of malicious glee. “Of course, you understand that I rarely make any promises at all. They can be surprisingly dangerous.”

Noah stared at him for a long time before speaking. “I don't like this. I feel as though I've walked into another trap, only this time, I brought Shannon with me. Are we in any danger from you here? Physical, mental, or magical? Because if you can't promise that we aren't—and yes, I mean promise—then show us the door, and we'll pretend none of this ever happened.”

Orlando laughed lightly, a clear affectation. “I promise that I pose no threat to you. You will leave in the same condition you arrived.”

A tiny spark of silver light appeared before us, perhaps a foot from the floor. It rose quickly, and when it was above the level of our heads, it burst into a shimmering dome around us, which flared briefly before flickering out of existence.

“A visual element to signify a vow made?” I asked dryly.

Orlando nodded. “You've been doing your reading. I don't always indulge in such theatrics, but they have their uses.”

That seemed to mollify Noah properly. “So what do we do? What do you need to know?”

“Everything, my boy.” Noah shifted uncomfortably at that, but Orlando chose to ignore it, if he noticed. “Start from the curse and tell me what you remember about its magic, and every bit of magic you've encountered since then.” He turned to me. “If I need clarification about your involvement, I'll let you know, but for his story, please be silent otherwise.”

“I understand.” Reading two people at once was taxing, and I didn't necessarily think it was the sort of thing that got easier with more power. If anything, it might be more difficult, with deeper access to their truths.

It was a surprisingly short tale for how long and harrowing the three years of isolation and fear must have felt. But Noah had had little knowledge of magic beyond the purely academic, before the curse, and most of that was only from being close friends with a witch. Magical theory by osmosis. He couldn't explain his magical heart except in the most general terms—at Orlando's request, I detailed what I'd done that night to save Noah.

“You're leaving something out,” he chided gently when I'd finished.

“I am,” I admitted. “I'm not going to tell you where Noah's living heart is. No one but me knows, and no one will. If you had any designs on that knowledge as part of your payment, tell me now and we'll be on our way.”

I had no ground to stand on, really; we were the ones asking him for his knowledge, his assistance. If he wanted anything from us, the desire seemed to come from curiosity; Noah was entirely unique in his experience with the curse, as far as my research had shown. Orlando had confirmed as much on the phone.

But we were a puzzle, at best. Orlando could walk away from this much more easier than Noah and I could. Still, I had to make clear what I was willing to pay, and what was off the table.

“I respect that,” Orlando said quietly. “There's no point in undoing the curse if you can't restore his heart, so you gain nothing by trading it away.” He shifted on the cushions, pointing himself more toward me. “What else can you tell me about your efforts to block the transformation?”

Without my notes to hand, I didn't have precise details memorized, but I gave him a solid outline. We'd tried Healing magic first, of course, both a systemic treatment of small, regular sessions and later, a large burst of it meant to flush the curse from his body before its hold grew deeper. Neither attempt had made any obvious difference.

After that, I'd begun dosing him with potions, reasoning that the magic resistance that was natural to gargoyles was preventing my direct interference. Potions worked internally, differently; they could have worked where my magic failed. But everything I thought safe to try on him produced no results. I had no references, no guidebooks for it; the curse usually completed the transformation of its victim within the first twelve hours, only rarely taking longer. No Healer before had ever had the leisure of methodical experimentation.

By the time I'd run through all my potion expertise, Noah's body had changed enough to reject human food. The next set of experiments had not been to save him in the long term, but to keep him from starving in the short term. That was when we discovered that his cursed flesh craved poisons as well as rotting flesh.

That brought Orlando up short. “Have you considered that his body might be storing those toxins, the way fish become riddled with mercury? Even if you lift the curse, he might die on the spot from those.”

Noah gasped, but I held Orlando's gaze steadily. “Yes, I had. But all I can do is keep moving forward. If the time ever comes that we find a cure, I'll have plenty of antidote potions ready for afterward.”

Orlando nodded shortly. “What else?”

I described the tests I'd developed to gauge the curse's continued progress, and Orlando was intrigued by the blessed needle. “Where did you come by that? They're exceedingly rare.”

“I made it myself, started when I was fifteen. My grandmother blessed it first, before she passed away. Since then I've had seventeen others perform whatever blessing ceremony is sacred to them upon it. Without another needle to compare it to, I have no way to assess its power objectively. But when I made the mistake of pricking his skin with it, that first time, he passed out instantly and didn't wake for five hours.”

Noah shuddered. “I've never felt pain like that, before or since. It felt like every cell in my body was trying to swell and burst at the same time.”

“Now I only drag it over his skin, but it still causes intense pain.”

Orlando looked at me curiously. “Why did you want one in the first place? Had you already decided to be a Healer that young?”

“It's all I've ever wanted to be, from the moment I discovered what the power inside me was. How could I have it, and not use it to help people?”

He said nothing, but I thought perhaps a new respect gleamed in his eyes. “So explain to me again, in as much detail as possible, why you stumbled upon the idea of promise magic binding him. Because I have to say, nothing so far indicates that.”

Noah huddled in on himself as I spoke, laying out the events of the past few days. “Since we spoke last night,” I finished up, “it's occurred to me one way we could be mistaken. All that Healing magic I poured into him at the beginning may have extended the effective life of the magical heart I gave him. It wasn't my intention, but this entire time I've been throwing everything I knew before and everything I've learned since at the curse, and just hoping something stuck—there are bound to be side effects no one could predict.”

“One more question for each of you, then. Noah, do you remember the first promise you made to Shannon? If you do, tell me if you've kept it.”

Noah squirmed slightly, something I hadn't seen him do since we were teenagers. “I think it was something small. When my family moved in next to hers, I wanted her to be my friend, so I promised her I'd give her a candy bar if she sat with me at lunch the next day at school. She did, and I gave it to her, promise kept.”

I couldn't help smiling. “I thought you'd forgotten. You never threw that bribe back in my face.”

Noah laid his hand over mine briefly. “I didn't think we stayed friends this long because I bought you off at six years old with a Snickers bar.”

“Okay,” Orlando broke in. “Shannon, same question.”

“I--” A lump came to my throat. “I don't know if this was really the first one, but I remember promising he was always welcome at my house, after my mother scolded him once for something stupid—I don't remember what. But she was angry, and she made him go home, and Noah thought she'd never let him come back. I swore I'd fix it. And sometimes my mother didn't always like having him around—sorry, Noah, I hate it but we both know it's true, she can be a bitch. But she never tossed him out again.” I swallowed hard. “And it's still true now that I live on my own. He's always welcome.”

Orlando nodded once, then closed his eyes and lay back completely. “I need a few moments to channel my energies, so please, be calm and still. I'm not going to fall asleep.”

We waited. I was burning with curiosity about what Orlando intended, because meditation like that was often a precursor to working a spell, but I kept my restlessness in check. Beside me, Noah breathed deeply with his own eyes closed.

It might have been two minutes or ten before Orlando roused himself. “I was hoping not to have to do this, because it takes a great deal of energy. But as complete a picture as you've both painted for me, something is still missing. Noah, I'd like your permission to read you more deeply, to check for traces of magic hiding in your psyche that you don't even know are there. Because I agree with Shannon—I do think something unexpected is holding you to human life when the curse is doing its best to turn you.” He smiled and shook his head at the same time. “Three years, man. That's just a wonder. There's never been anything like this before.”

Noah cocked his head. “Will it hurt?”

Orlando exploded with laughter, so loud and sudden I flinched from it. “That's what you're worried about? Most people are more concerned with the invasion of their privacy.”

Noah shrugged. “You promised we weren't in danger from you. Which means you can't use whatever you learn from me for any harm, at least, not to us. Just by being here, I'm trusting you with the knowledge of my existence—you could probably sell me to the vampires for sport and make an excellent profit. But you won't. So what do I care if you take a look at my soul?”

I choked up again, tears threatening with more force, but I put on a stern face to hide it. Noah was only concerned about raw survival at this point. It was all he had left. And sweet gods, that knowledge hurt. I liked to tell myself I would do anything to save Noah, but my heart cringed away from the idea of Orlando performing a deep reading on me. Some things should never be shared; some things are too deep and painful.

It was easy to say I would do it if necessary, only slightly less easy to believe. But I wasn't the one being asked, so I would never know if this was a line I couldn't cross.

Noah wanted to know about physical pain, then offered himself up like an open book on a lectern.

“All I have to do,” Orlando was saying, “is touch your skin and look inward. Some people feel me moving through their mind and see what I see; others are completely unaware the whole time. Some fall in between those extremes. We won't know how you will react until we try. Do you still want to proceed?”

“Wait,” I said before Noah could answer. “Orlando, that means there's an element of risk to you. Noah's almost completely resistant to magic now. It may be that you just won't be able to read him—I can barely get anything from his voice, though I know I'm not as powerful as you. But the curse—it might fight back, if you try this.”

“The conflict and confluence between two magical disciplines is always unpredictable at first,” Orlando said placidly, still focused on Noah. “But even the deepest reading is still a mostly passive spell. I think the risk is acceptable.”

“But you haven't even asked for payment, yet.”

That made Orlando smile at me. “Good little Healer, always concerned for others. My requested payment is this; that I be present when you attempt to lift the curse, whenever that may be. I've been around a good long while, yet I've never been this close to history in the making. I want to see it done.” He grinned a bit wider. “And if you should be unsuccessful, I'd like possession of all of your case notes. If you succeed, I imagine you'll want to publish them yourself and reap the benefits, but they will still be immensely valuable even in failure. I have a fondness for original manuscripts, and adding these to my collection would be a feather in my cap like no other.”

Noah leaned in. “Why shouldn't she still publish them even if I turn? Like you said, they'd still be worth something.”

I put my hand on his arm. “Noah, don't. It's okay. I agree.” Orlando had found a deeper truth about me, one I hadn't realized he would see. “Orlando, I promise to keep you informed of my efforts to remove the gargoyle curse from Noah, and to invite you to any attempts we make. If we succeed, I will retain the rights to my work regarding this case; if we fail, I will turn the completed study over to you, to do with as you will.”

“Shannon!” Noah hissed. “You warned me not to make promises, and you do this?”

“It's his payment,” I argued. “I have to.”

“Without trying to negotiate,” he shot back.

“The terms make perfect sense to me.”

Noah huffed once more, but when Orlando reached for him, he subsided, holding out both hands in offering.

Orlando took them and gasped. “That is unsettling.”

Both men closed their eyes and appeared to sink into a trance.

For the first fifteen minutes, according to my phone, I sat watching anxiously, waiting for a change, for information to shake loose from their minds into words. But I was tired—I would have been asleep at least an hour ago on a normal night, and I was already running short on sleep from the stress of our current predicament. I made myself more comfortable with some extra cushions and did sudoku puzzles on my phone to keep myself awake.

Two hours later, they dropped hands suddenly as Noah made a high, pitiful keening sound. I shot upright, dropping my phone and reaching out for him, instinctively wanting to comfort. But he wasn't crying—he couldn't.

“Be still, Noah,” Orlando said gravely. “This is good news.”

Noah slumped forward, half into my arms. He was cold and stiff and insanely heavy, but I settled him as well as I could and held on. The keening trailed off, giving way to short, tense breaths.

“What is it?” I asked, since Noah was in no shape to. Though judging by his reaction, he already knew.

“He made a promise to himself, one he can only keep if he survives and becomes human again. He did so early on, before he knew he had enough power within him to make the promise binding.” Orlando lowered his voice. “He is caught in a loop of his own recursive willpower; I saw that the two of you had discussed...other options,” he said delicately, “but I don't believe his is a viable one any longer.”

Understanding his meaning took longer than it should have. “You're saying...he can't give up hope? Literally? He can't choose?”

Orlando shook his head. “He must continue to fight the curse until it takes him, or he dies.”

“Unless I can save him.”

“Unless you can save him,” Orlando repeated.

In my arms, Noah heaved and shuddered. “I thought you said this was good news,” he croaked.

“It is. Now you know that the artificial heart will not fail. Now you know that you are not limited to finding the cure in the short lifespan you assumed you had left. Instead you have Shannon's life, however long that may be. As long as she lives, you will too.”

My blood roared in my ears—I couldn't speak until it quieted. “What the hell does that mean?”

Before Orlando could answer, Noah raised his upper body and shook his head, shaking off my hold in the process. What didn't he want Orlando to say? After clearing his throat, Noah said, “It means I protect you, same as before, while you figure this out. That hasn't changed.” He glared at Orlando. “We got what we came for, and you've got your payment, after a fashion. Can we go now?”

I still had questions, but Orlando swept his hand once, imperiously, in a gesture too intricate and practiced to be anything other than a spell. I blinked—or really, I felt compelled to blink—and once I had, we were sitting on the cold, damp asphalt in the alleyway.

Noah hauled me to my feet roughly and sped us home so fast I had no breath to ask questions. I had the feeling that if I tried, he would simply throw me over his shoulder and run back, ignoring me all the way.

#writeblr #fictober18 #original fiction #spookyromancenovel #DAMN #that was almost three solid hours of writing #daily word count

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sardonicnihilism · 4 years

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A Biography of the Woman Who Never Was

Part 3 The Young Adult

Chapter 25

Mary sat in her chair, staring blankly into space, paralyzed with fear for her daughter. Shannon was out there, crazy, a danger to anyone around her. How, where did she go so wrong? She thought about Kathy. She was a selfish, angry, drunk; this, on the other hand, was something completely different.

The sound of the doorknob turning, snapped her out of her trance. She looked over and saw Shannon walk in. She was bent, her shoulders drooped, her head hung low. Mary looked at her hands and saw they were covered in blood.

"Oh God," Mary gasped in horror; her mind filling with all kinds of images of what her daughter might have done.

"Don't worry," Shannon said in a low, tired voice without lifting her head to look over, "it's my own. I was punching the ground. I don't think I broke anything, but one never knows for sure." Her voice was completely lifeless, almost monotone.

She reached into her coat and pulled out a dirty, broken dagger. She tossed it on the floor as she walked to the couch and sat down. "I won't be needing that anymore. Do with it what you will."

"Shannon, did you, did you," Mary started to ask if she had hurt anyone, not really wanting to know the answer. Shannon cut her off before she could finish.

"I almost killed a homeless man," she said flatly. "At least I think he was homeless. He said he was, but he could have been lying. Or he could have been a figment of my imagination. I don't really know what's real anymore. This might be real, or maybe I'm still up on the train tracks? Maybe I'm dead? I did almost drown when I was in middle school. Maybe I did die and this is Hell? I wonder if it would be even possible to tell the difference." Shannon looked down at the floor the whole time, her voice, constantly flat and unemotional.

"I hear voices. I hear them all the time. It's not like they're telling me to do stuff, more like infinite conversations with each other, and I'm just ease dropping. I see things too. Shadows, dark shapes, spectral, human like things; always just out of full view.

"I thought I was a Holy warrior. Like one of the chosen. That in the end times, God would give me my secret, true name. I would say it and become a white wolf with golden armor and fight the forces of Satan. That's why I started carrying that," she pointed to the dagger, "so I would be ready no matter what time of day I received the call."

Mary was shaking, her face a cadaverous white. Her daughter had gone crazy. She had literally lost her mind. What was she going to do? She couldn't afford to have her committed to an asylum. Maybe she could turn to the church? Maybe she was actually possessed? Did their church even perform exorcisms? Now she sounded as crazy as her daughter.

"I'm not on drugs, if that's what you're thinking. I mean I did drink a strange, red liquid at - what do you call a gathering of witches? I don't know. A ritual? Anyway, I traveled into the Abyss, birthed an infinite number of demons who became universes, and my remains were eaten by an entity I thought was Azathoth. That might have been a narcotic. But I don't use drugs on a regular basis." Shannon's voice still refused to show any emotion.

Mary went to reach for her daughter but pulled back. This was beyond anything she could even hope to deal with.

Shannon stood up and took her trench coat off. "I'm going to bed now. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow, maybe not. We'll see." She turned and walked up the stairs, leaving Mary alone to cry her eyes out.

********************************************

The next day, nothing was said about what happened. Like all the other family's traumas, it got swepted under the proverbial rug. Poor people can't afford to fix their problems, they can only patch them up and hope for the best.

Shannon continued to see and hear things, but on an ever decreasing level. She pulled away from just about everything and one. She dropped out of all her clubs and extracurricular activities. She stopped visiting family as well. Her life shrank to her studies, work, gym, and band.

For a while, Shannon got extremely sick. She thought maybe Jen had put a curse on her. She went to her spell books and casted a few protection and revenge spells, but it all felt empty. The spark was gone. Eventually she burned most of magic books, but even that felt more performative than cathartic.

She would often feel herself sinking in bouts of extreme depression and loneliness. She thought about dating but decided against it. Sure, college was filled to overflowing with girls desperate to get their lesbian on. Some were gay or bi; some were just curious straight girls sick of putting up with male bullshit. But she didn't have the time (she told herself). Also she had gotten the reputation as being the weird girl, and not in the funny, cute way, but the "she'll eat your face off and bury you in the basement" way. She didn't mind that too much. Sure, it killed her social life, but it kept the guys away, so six of one, half a dozen of the other.

One night, she was in the campus library, doing a research paper when she heard a voice that she was relatively sure wasn't inside her head. "Ah mate, did you see the latest episode of the X-Files? Bloody brilliant that is. I don't see how Chris Carter can keep the show so good." It was a male voice speaking with an Australian accent.

*What is an Australian doing in bum fuck Shippensburg?* she thought to herself. The idea that someone from Australia would come here seemed more unbelievable than magic and witches. That, and along with the fact he was talking about one of her favorite shows, made her decide to get up and see who the owner of the voice really was.

She slowly crept to where the voice was coming from. The owner was a tall boy, about six feet tall, short hair, the same color as hers, a long, oval face with green eyes that looked half a size too big for the face they were in. Not conventionally attractive by any stretch of the imagination, but the sum total still gave off a pleasant, quirky attractiveness. If she were straight, she might even have found him cute. He moved his hands a lot when he talked with a grace that suggested he either was or had been a dancer.

The boy he was talking to was short with long, dark brown hair, tied in a ponytail. He had a patchy beard that was standard for most college boys. He wore a tydyed shirt and light tan cargo shorts with flip flops. His hands were in his pocket and he looked completely bored with the conversation.

"Hey, no need to perve on us," Shannon heard the Australian say to her. "Come on over and say hey."

*Shit* Shannon thought to herself. She considered just turning tail and run, but decided that she did kind of owe it to them to say hi.

She walked over and extended her hand. "Sorry, I heard you mention The X-Files, and I love that show. I'm Shannon, by the way."

"No worries mate. Samuel's the name. Everyone calls me Sam for short." He shook her hand and made an exaggerated pain face. "That's quite a grip you got on ya there. You sure you're not a Shawn instead of a Shannon?"

Shannon gave him an annoyed look. "My menstrual cramps seem to think so," she said, irritated. "And if you ask me to prove it, I'm going to rip your brain out through your eyes."

Sam gave a big laugh. "No, no problem there. Just having a bit of a go at you. Just me personality. I like to have a bit of fun."

Shannon cocked her head and did something she hadn't done in a long time, she smiled.

#dark #fiction #drama #queer stories #slice of life

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angelkurenai · 7 years

Text

Imagine being in a relationship with Shannon and Jared having feelings for you.

“You'll all excuse me for a second-” you said breathlessly after you finished your first song with Jared, it was always such a pleasure to surprise the fans with you appearing on their concerts “I just need to greet my handsome drummer!” you said with a big grin as Jared let his hand fall from your side, you already making your way enthusiastically to his brother, not even missing a chance to break free from the younger Leto's arms.

He chuckled as he saw you giggle when the entire crowd went crazy. As much as it hurt he knew he had to force a smile on his lips. Not only because many people were watching him but also, and above all, because he had to be happy for his best friend and brother. Even if this relationship tore him apart on the inside.

“Don't you just love it when he plays the drums all sweaty and shirtless?” you said into the microphone, looking back at the crowd with a smirk and mostly the girls that were there went crazy; screaming and eliciting a blush from your boyfriend.

You giggled, turning to look at him nuzzling your nose with his as he grinned at you; already making your heart to flip flops. He didn't need to say a word to make you melt right into his arms. Said firm arms that he wrapped around you and pressed your body flushed to his, making you squeak and laugh like a teen girl. He chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, making you still smile into the kiss that he had a hard time from deepening but still was enough to have the crowdscreaming for the two of you. You've been together for so long, you couldn't even remember, yet you had come out to the public for only a few months and he fans just didn't seem to get enough of it. Especially since you had been a great friend with Jared for quiet some time and starred in many movies with him.

Jared took a sip of his water, trying not to let it show how his face fell when he saw his brother kiss you with all the love he... so much wanted to shower you with. He set his bottle aside, only looking up for a second to see a serious look on Tomo's face. He tried to offer him a reassuring smile, he tried really he did, but the smile didn't reach his eyes and he knew Tomo could see right through him. Especially when it came to you, so instead he only shook his head at his friend and looked away.

How had all of this started he couldn't even remember. He had met you when in an interview on Ellen. You were there to sing and from the moment he heard you he knew he was swept away. When you'd later joined them he couldn't keep his eyes off you, but it wasn't just your voice or the looks that drew him in. The more he got to learn about you the more interested he got and he knew that he probably wasn't thinking straight but for some reason he didn't care.

He didn't miss the chance to talk to you once the interview was over – alright maybe it took him quiet a while preparing every possible conversation in his mind – but when in the very end he found the courage to speak to you he didn't regret it in the least bit. HE felt relaxed with you, the both of you fell into a comfortable conversation talking about anything and anyone. And as much as it surprised him, considering he was acting like a total shy teen in front of you, he had managed to ask you out. Time after time actually. From coffee, to dinner, to hiking and mountain climbing that as you told him you always wanted to try but were too scared. IT wasn't romantic, he hadn't made it that way and despite the small flirtycomments it as all the two of you hanging out. And that was all that mattered to Jared: to spend time with you. Being around you had become a daily thing, and something he sought after quiet often. So he did try it.

You'd even worked on a couple songs together, and were there to help him with getting into the role of the Joker when he needed you. It was easy to say that from the very first moments you spent together you weren't just his best friend... you were his soulmate. But up to then he had not made a real move, he couldn't believe it but even he felt intimidated to do something more. It was actually the first time he ever felt like that but maybe he realized it was because it was the first time he really felt this way for you.

But until then he didn't know one thing. One thing that would change everything and would probably make his entire world crumble down.

You had become so important to him that he couldn't imagine a life without you, so he decided to take it slow. He took it seriously, so he didn't flirt the way he usually did. Nor tried to win you the way he had done with numerous women before. It was all a slow burn and he wanted this to be perfect, he knew you deserved the best anyway.That plus- he was a little scared, maybe for the first time in his life but the prospect of losing you drove him insane.

If only he knew it had already happened.

He still remembered, he was at his mother's place waiting for Shannon and his girlfriend to come. He hadn't known of her existence for some time, Shannon kept it almost a secret even from him. Up to that day he didn't even have a name but as long as he knew that she made his brother happy it was enough for him. So he too was happy and content. He'd have asked you to be there with him, you had come that close, but you'd said you were busy. He didn't know what at first but the moment he opened the door and saw you there with his brother he realized exactly what.

“Jared” Tomo's voice was still heard, breaking the blue-eyed man from his trail of thoughts. He shook his head, not looking at him and preferring to look anywhere- but the oh so happy couple anyway.

“Hey kids-” he forced a smile on his lips “Either keep it PG rated or break apart, this is a concert you know.” he said through the microphone and you pulled away from your boyfriend who was chuckling at his brother's behavior.

“Look who's talking!” you exclaimed as you left Shannon and walked towards your best friend “Do you really want me to make a video of all the things you have done on stage that are not so PG rated?” you raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed, shaking his head.

“Don't think I'd want to see that no.”

“Oh of course you don't! Careful Leto, I am your best friend I know all of your dirty secrets, don't make me use them against you!” you grinned mischievously and he couldn't help the laugh as he threw an arm over your shoulders hugging you close to himself.

“I know I'm gonna regret it one day but I wouldn't have it any other way!” he kissed the top of your head as you giggled in his arms, wrapping your own around his waist. What a big lie that was.

“Yall I wish you could get yourself a Jared Leto, he's the bestest best friend anyone could ask for! Heck, I got to understand the definition of soulmate with this man!” you grinned and Jared's smile flattered for a moment. Because as much as he loved hearing it he still knew that you only meant it in a friendly way. There was no way you'd see him any different.

Or at least that's what he thought and knew.

“Aw baby that's so sweet-” he made a face, when he couldn't hide his emotions better turn it all into a joke “But not while my brother is here, maybe when it's the two of us.” he winked at you and you giggled, burying your face in his chest.

“Hey!” Shannon exclaimed behind the two of you, and later Jared huffed as the older Leto had thrown him a drumstick. You giggled and Jared let a soft laugh when he saw that luckily his brother had not realized a thing, much like everybody else and was also joking.

“Hands off lil bro!”

Jared chuckled, although this one was more forced “Shannon will probably fight me on this but- (Y/n)'s the best thing to happen to me. She is truly a blessing and I love this woman so fucking much.” he squeezed you in his arms as you gave him a big grin.

“Aw you know I love you too-” you pretended to cry “But come on, no more chick flicks!” you grinned as the crowd cheered “Let's continue this concert and give everyone the time of their lives!” you smiled widely and Jared couldn't help a smile as he kissed the top of your head, only one memory in his mind.

“You love him” he breathed out as the two of you sat on the living room but your eyes were on Shannon for some time.

Your head snapped to him, a shy smile on your face as you giggled and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear the way you'd done the first time you two met.

“I-” you bit your lip “I really do, J. He's everything to me.” you said sincerely, pure love written all over your face as you talked about his brother.

#jared #jared leto #jared x reader #jared leto x reader #jared imagine #jared leto imagine #jared one shot #jared leto one shot #jared fanfiction #jared leto fanfiction #shannon #shannon leto #shannon imagine #shannon leto imagine #shannon x reader #shannon leto x reader #shannon fanfiction #shannon leto fanfiction

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rndyounghowze · 5 years

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Broadway Theatre of Pitman Gives US Sanctuary with The Hunchback of Notre Dame in Pitman, NJ

By Ricky and Dana Young-Howze

Broadway Theatre of Pitman really rang a bell with me in their production of Hunchback of Notre Dame. This musical with music by Alan Menken, Lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, and book by Peter Parnell was directed by John Stephan and gave us sanctuary for the night.

All Quasimodo ever wanted was one day out in the normal world. But his adopted Father Dom Frollo forbids it. But on the Festival of Fools he ventures out and meets a lovely Gypsy girl named Esmeralda. After seeing the world she opens up for him can he ever venture back in?

Direction and Choreography by John Stephan brought his usual flair for brilliant character work and expansive dance choreography. You can tell that Stephan puts his heart and soul in everything. The dance numbers did not disappoint. You had the huge stage stealing tentpoles that make us celebrate and the small intimate choreography that steals your heart.

Now for character work I have say that I don't know whether my criticism here is an acting choice, a script problem, or a director choice. I found it a strange choice for Quasimodo to talk in a lisp while speaking to some people and dropping it to sing beautifully or talk to other people. It's not the problem of his angelic singing voice that melts my soul like butter it's the problem that it rings unauthentic for a person with a speech disability to suddenly be able to sing.

Also I don't know why but there seemed to be more questions left unanswered by Quasimodo's disability than not. Such as if he is a bit deaf why can he hear things said behind him? And if he's reading lips why isn't he looking at people's faces? This is most likely a problem that production inherited from the script but characters with disabilities deserve to have that extra work done to provide great representation for the community of a differently abled audience. Oh I understand that realism is out the window in a play where he's talking to gargoyles. However you can't rest on your laurels just looking "infirm" you have to make sure your performance does not seem unauthentic to who the musical says Quasimodo is.

Other than my questions about Quasimodo (played by Will K. Carey) this guy is what Dana called "scary good" and has a wicked talent about him. He brings a sincerity to the character that I haven't seen in a long time. He makes us immediately feel like this character is someone that we know.

Although I feel that the villainous character of Frollo became bastardized by the musical adaptation our onstage Frollo (played by CJ Kish) did not disappoint in his performance. Because this new framing had him seeming more misguided than evil he was able to show a good man gone wrong. We are watching a journey of a Godly man turning into a monster.

Phoebus (played by Justin Boyd) cut a dashing figure in a cape and sword. Dana informed me I should mention that he was very handsome. I will say that we both agree that his voice was as smooth as silk and rich as cream. And his chemistry with Esmeralda was very nice.

Esmeralda (played by Shannon Q. Harkins) had that instantly approachable quality without seeming too vulnerable. She became my handhold into the musical. Her reactions and views of the world became mine. She gave the character sensuality without making her an object. No matter how other people objectified her she carried the character like a human being.

I respect anyone who can turn a cartwheel and still sing in tune and Clopin (played by Matthew Robertson) delivers. I especially love his performance in the Court of Miracles number. Instead of a Punchinello type character we get a true leader of the Romani.

I need to give a special shout out to the Jarema brothers: CJ Jarema and Andrew Jarema. I had a hard time counting all the roles they played in the course of two acts. I do know their hard work tired me out!

Krystina Hawkinson first wowed Dana and I in "Thoroughly Modern Millie" and we really loved seeing her again last night! We feel we got a really good sense of her range and talent in this show.

The minute I heard that choir I had chills up and down my spine. There are so many things that you can do with a stationary choir that you can't do with an ensemble and this show has both a choir AND an ensemble of storytellers! You can fill the entire house with the magic of the human voice and for a show about a famous Cathedral you have a huge atmosphere to create! Dana and I were divided. She thinks we could have had the choir doing something more than just sitting there. They could have been part of the action more. I believe they were just perfect and I wish that the story teller ensemble had just stayed still and joined the choir. Be sure to go and tell us what you think.

Then you hear this orchestra under the musical Direction of Jack Hill that sounds as soft as heaven one moment and as firey as gates of hell the next. The orchestra made good use of strings and percussion to sound much bigger than it was.

Set Design by David DeWeil never disappoints! I loved the expansiveness of the set which stood almost as monolithic as the great cathedral herself. However I couldn't help but notice that some of the wagons buckled and swayed as actors walked on them. If they're going to hold the weight of actors then it should support them without the audience thinking about why it's moving on its own. I say this out of love because it's beautiful.

Lighting Design by Shawn McGovern really kept a dark and dismal atmosphere throughout. I noticed that he played really heavily with light and shadow and rich shades of purple. Probably the best lighting design I've seen at Pitman in a while.

Costume Design by Thom Sirkot played with the ideas of clean and ragged. You could tell what classof society characters were by their clean white robes, their dirty smocks, or their garish colorful dresses. However onstage costume changes at the beginning seemed a little too awkward but that might have been the complex nature of them. I am sure that most nights they work like a charm.

I was so glad to see fight choreography onstage in South Jersey that finally made sense! And this past stage armorer appreciates the work of fight director Rocco Barbera in this show. But it's not without it's problems. If you're going to do dazzling sword work then don't take actors acting at full speed and make them go through fight choreography that runs at half speed. Actually let the swords hit each other. Also make sure the actors are actually moving like they want to hit something. But it was the best sword choreography I've seen in three years. If I wasn't such a stickler I would say it was the best in six.

Of course the stage was graced with hair and wig Design by John Rattacasa. I have to confess that I'm such a fan of Mr. Rattacasa that anytime I see good hair onstage I go "that's an original masterpiece by John"! And I often start bragging about wigs that aren't his. John wigged the entire female ensemble in this show and if you can't tell it's because he's just... that...good! He's my theatre good luck charm for a reason!

Before I go I have a "behind the scenes" moment for you. At intermission an usher came to our row and announced that no one should be using their cellphones. Dana was able to whisper to her that we were reviewing the show and were invited. People often ask us why we don’t just show up to show unannounced and uninvited. This is why.

There are a lot of rules for theatre reviewers and they're all about making sure the venue, the reviewer, and the audience have the best experience ever. Normally we are invited to a press night at BTOP but in this instance it was not possible in which this case means we come in whenever schedules allow. Press nights are important to make sure that reviewers don't hinder someone's fun in the course of their duties. I would love to see press openings standardized all over South Jersey

You have more chances to see this show if you haven't already seen it. Even though it's not a favorite libretto of mine the cast has several ovation worthy moments. It's really worth it.

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moonshroooms · 7 years

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Unusual Asks

Yep, I’m in that mode again. Time to answer questions about myself that literally no one asked for :D

If someone finds this in the deep ocean blue and wants to answer the same questions, I found them here

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?

Pandora, I guess? But I don’t really use any of them. I only tried Pandora for a time because it told you what genre the music is, and that was how I learned I listened to completely random and unrelated songs

is your room messy or clean?

Yes.

It’s messy, but it’s only dirty clothes really? So the second we do a major Laundry Sweep it suddenly becomes clean.

what color are your eyes?

Brown baby come an get dat chocolatttte

do you like your name? why?

Yes, because it’s tomboyish. When I was younger for some reason I really liked my friend’s name Emily, and wished that was my name instead. As I got older I liked my name more and more. I also love the 30 bajillion nicknames my name comes with. And I love my nickname Moon simply because from that nickname are 30 bajillion more nicknames.

what is your relationship status?

Single and deathly afraid of romance probs

describe your personality in 3 words or less

0-100 spaz

what color hair do you have?

Black hair :3

what kind of car do you drive? color?

It’s a sentra because they get good gas mileage and I’m cheap and it’s a darkish red, cause it’s the only color they had

where do you shop?

Food Banks

how would you describe your style?

Don’t Notice Me Anyone I’m Just a Background Character

favorite social media account

I hate social media when I know people, so tumblr, because screaming into a void where I’m not known is fun. It’s like having an imaginary argument in your shower

what size bed do you have?

Twin

any siblings?

Three of them! Two half-sisters, and a half-brother, all older :3

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

With my friends

favorite snapchat filter?

Pfffft I’m an antisocial dweeb and never bothered with snapchat because my phone is old and I rarely take pictures of myself or share pictures of anything else I capture

favorite makeup brand(s)

I don’t wear makeup, so none VwV

how many times a week do you shower?

Once a week if I haven’t done anything that makes me gross. Maybe 3 times a week if I went jogging and got all sweaty

favorite tv show?

Steven Universe, Last Airbender, Amazing World of Gumball, Star vs.

shoe size?

6 ½

how tall are you?

5”2

… and ½

sandals or sneakers?

w a t e r s h o e s

do you go to the gym?

No, I hate the gym. The air in there gives me a headache, everyone’s staring at you doing everything wrong, there’s people in general, and I just no. I like to work out either in the privacy of my room or out in nature (aka I started jogging at my library park and I’m very proud of myself hopefully I keep this up).

describe your dream date

A date that treats me nice and we have a good time

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

13 bucks

what color socks are you wearing?

My skin

how many pillows do you sleep with?

Uhhhh. 2 for my head, 2 to hug, a beanie-filled duck thing, and also my cats old blanket. So like. 4 pillows if you wanna get technical, 6 if let’s be honest the duck and blanket act as pillows

do you have a job? what do you do?

I do. I clean trays and do numerous odd jobs for an oral surgeon’s office. It’s literally a part time job the employees often have their teens do. But it’s something for now

how many friends do you have?

7. The seventh one I just made recently, and it’s still sort of iffy if we’ll actively be friends. We’ve known each other for years, and she’s called me her friend before, but we’ve never like. Hung out, or talked literally ever. But I’ve always thought she seemed like a cool person and someone I wanted to be friends with, and sometime last month or so (she was staying on our couch due to family complications) I outright told her “Hey, you seem like a cool person, and I’d love to be better friends with you J” and by some miracle that WORKED. She called me a nerd for that and we’ve saw Wonder Woman with our moms. I lent her a book from the library (The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale, wonderful book, literally the first in my favorite book series!), and she’s really loving it so far! We’re gonna hang out Sunday, so hopefully we click well and I truly will have successfully made my first friend where I was the one who approached!

whats the worst thing you have ever done?

One time when I was younger I had a fight with my mom. Recalling correctly, I was upset that she ‘loved God more than me’ and during that fight she ‘let go’ and said that I was more important to her. Immediately afterwards I made her take it back, and apologized profusely, and never said anything about her feeling God was more important ever again. And she forgave me, because that’s the kind of person she is, but I still feel like shit for it, and I’m so sorry I ever made her say that, whether she meant it or not. I feel so guilty about it even today. She told me that night that she let go so she could grab onto me and save me from drowning, and that even if she had let go, God would have never let her go, and he would save the both of us. I still wish I could make it so I’d never said that.

whats your favorite candle scent?

MMmmm, I dunno. Do they have cherry blossom? Cause that one

3 favorite boy names

Devon (Deh-von), Aiden (Ay-den), and uhhhh? Naruto. (Nar-oo-toe)

3 favorite girl names

Astrid (totally from Phantom Hourglass), Anaise (yes that’s from the Amazing World of Gumball I fell in love the second I heard it), aaaaaand ermmmmmm. Buzz Lightyear

favorite actor?

Will Smith? Morgan Freeman? Yeah, let’s go with them

favorite actress?

Will Smith? Morgan Freeman? Yeah, let’s go with them

who is your celebrity crush?

Me™

favorite movie?

Bambi, Jumanji, Jurassic Park, Pirates of the Carribean

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

I do, I do!! I love Forest Born from Shannon Hale’s Books of Bayern! It’s the 4th and last book in her series, and I love it so much! I recommend it for everyone! Adventure, fantasy, a little bit of romance, fun, and honest-to-god you feel like you’re in an old folk tale the whole time. It’s all a beautiful series.

money or brains?

Brains

do you have a nickname? what is it?

Moon, Moo, Moonmoon, Moonie

how many times have you been to the hospital?

A lot for reasons

top 10 favorite songs

Fireflies by Owl City

Last Unicorn by America (yes, from the movie the Last Unicorn)

Tabi no Tochuu by Kiyoura, Natsumi (aka the Spice and Wolf Season 1 Theme)

Something Entire New from Steven Universe

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by Set It Off

I Ship It by Not Literally (An ‘I Don’t Care’ parody, it’s hilarious and I love it, please go listen to it)

Blue Lips by Regina Spektor

Miss Jackson by Panic! At the Disco

E.T. by Katy Perry (I’m not even sure why I like this one so much, but I dooooo)

Girl with One Eye by Florence and the Machine

do you take any medications daily?

I do, antidepressants, which I started maybe 1 or 2 months ago after people suggesting I take medication for years

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

Perfect™

No but I guess it’s fine? I live in a dry area, but my skin isn’t dried out at all, even before I put lotion on constantly. The crown of my forehead/my nose get a bit oily, but splashing my face every morning basically takes care of that. I feel kind of bad for saying I don’t really have any skin problems

what is your biggest fear?

My loved ones hating me, dying, or being hurt from my own inept, or me being unable to help them

how many kids do you want?

Two. One boy, one girl (or if one wants to change/be whatever gender later in life I really don’t care). One that’s mine genetically, one I’ve adopted. Before I would have preferred giving birth to a boy since Devon was always my favorite boy name (and my only favorite name period), but with my sister being pregnant recently I’ve randomly thought about girl names as well so now I’m chill with having a boy or girl first so I can name them either Devon or Anaise/Astrid. God forbid I have twins that are both boys/girls since A) twins run in my family, and B) I’m having only two kids period so if I got twin boys/girls then that’s it I’m done that’s the end for me

whats your go to hair style?

Two French braids that stay in my head for the whole week

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

It’s an apartment, so small

who is your role model?

My old cat Princess

what was the last compliment you received?

I legit don’t remember, but probably my mom telling me I’m gorgeous. Thanks mom, love you!

what was the last text you sent?

Me sending my group chat this

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

You think I put a date on that ish?? I dunno, I think I was still in my old house, so anywhere from 6-8 maybe?

what is your dream car?

A car that has no pollution/carbon footprint, runs on sunlight and electricity, and is reliable, also it doubles as a stray cat home that doesn’t kill them if I turn it on

opinion on smoking?

My entire older family (aunts, uncles, cousins, older brother/sister), smoked. My aunt is a cancer survivor and STILL smokes. My brother and sisters father died from lung cancer. My mother’s parents died from lung cancer. My father smokes (yet expects to live to 100???). My mother is probably the only person in her immediate family that was completely disgusted by smoking. My brother and sister vape now, in their attempt to quit, but my sister would take a hit of our aunts cigarettes every now and then. I hate smoking. It kills. It’s addictive. It’s a waste of your money and brain power. What’s worse is the people (like my sister and aunt), who don’t give a fuck if it will kill you down the road because, according to my sister, “once you reach like, 70, the fun parts over, now you start dying anyways”. Fuck you. What about everyone you’re leaving behind? FUCK you. If you get cancer it’s not just you that’s affected, it’s everyone you love and care about. Your parents, your siblings, your friends, your children. They don’t want to see you die like this, decrepit, and weak. They want to see you healthy, and having fun, and HAPPY. Do they really mean so little to you that you would LITERALLY KILL YOURSELF just because of a 2-minute dopamine rush? I hate people like that. I will never date someone who smokes. That is 100% a deal breaker. I will never, EVER go through what my mother went through with her husband, and what so many others must have gone through.

My opinion on smoking is that it needs to be buried, like all the people it’s already killed.

do you go to college?

I do! I just finished my first semester (just English 101 for my first semester), with flying colors! 940/1000 points!

what is your dream job?

Anything with animals and where I can make a difference in the animal community

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

Rural areas. I hate the city and people

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

100% I paid a shit ton of money for this room and you don’t even provide free snacks. I brought my own shampoo/condition but you can bet your ass I’m taking all of theirs

do you have freckles?

Yes? No? Does it count if it’s like, one freckle? It’s not a cluster of freckles, but I have a lot of freckle-spots on the right side of my face, random other parts of my face, and various other parts of my body (and one where like, my dude the sun don’t shine there how’s you get there???)

do you smile for pictures?

Absolutely!

how many pictures do you have on your phone?

Currently? I dunno, 100 or so?

have you ever peed in the woods?

100%

do you still watch cartoons?

Absolutely, they’re way more entertaining than anything else anyways

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

Wendy’s

Favorite dipping sauce?

Good ol’ ketchup

what do you wear to bed?

Mismatching pajamas, and gorgeous dark blue blue shirt and blue leopard spot Victoria’s Secret pajamas that came with a matching eyemask that my aunt got me for Christmas and they have a cute shirt cut, the pants make me look curvy, I look damn good in them, they’re my favorite color, and most importantly they have POCKETS and it’s literally my favorite pair of pajamas I love them

have you ever won a spelling bee?

No, but I was in a spelling bee! Literally no idea how I got in, I think the best speller of each class was just. Automatically put in? I was naturally good at spelling and randomly got in the spelling bee, was terrified of being on stage, and got my first word wrong because the fuck? How did I get in this?? I’m 9, I’m not studying for this get me off this Awful Stage stop looking at me

what are your hobbies?

Writing, drawing, video games, teasing my cats, roleplaying, and hiking if I was anywhere away from the city

can you draw?

Yes!

do you play an instrument?

Does my voice count?

what was the last concert you saw?

Hilary Duff, when I was like 12. First and only concert I’ve ever seen in my life. Almost the best night of my tiny 12 year old life, but my friend’s mom was a dick and told me to calm down when I was screaming, singing, and cheering, and I spent the rest of the concert sitting in my seat and feeling embarrassed and awkward. Who the fuck tells a 12 year old to calm down when she’s at her first concert with her best friend with their favorite artist in the world??? You’re a fucking dick biscuit, Friend’s Mom.

tea or coffee?

W a t e r

I hate both of those. Though peppermint tea is okay, not that I’d drink it outside of being sick

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Starbucks, but only for a cinnamon twist pastry thingy

do you want to get married?

I do!

what is your crush’s first and last initial?

I have never had a crush for realsies, only an ‘lol I thought I had a crush but nevermind’

are you going to change your last name when you get married?

If my name sounds good with their last name, yes. If not, sorry honeycakes, I’m keeping my name. They’re more than welcome to change their last name if they so choose.

what color looks best on you?

White, black, red

do you miss anyone right now?

Princess, my old cat

And Fern and Thatcher, my best friends

do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Closed, because I don’t want my kittens to get in. I used to sleep with it open exclusively so my old cat Princess could get in and out

do you believe in ghosts?

Sure

what is your biggest pet peeve?

Self-righteous people

last person you called

My mom’s case manager

favorite ice cream flavor?

Cookie dough without chocolate chips

regular oreos or golden oreos?

ReGuLaR

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

NO!!!!!!!!!

what shirt are you wearing?

Black superman shirt I wear for pjs

what is your phone background?

My old cat Princess

are you outgoing or shy?

Shy, unless I’m around people I’m comfortable with. Then I’m shy but a bit more sociable

do you like it when people play with your hair?

Oh god yes. I want to fall asleep if I ever have someone doing my hair and it’s at the Not Ripping Out Your Hair part. God it feels great. Tbh I wouldn’t be surprised if that was a turn on for me

do you like your neighbors?

Hell no they’re all awful

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

In the morning. And “wash” is a bit formal, my face-washing is more of a splash-your-face-wake-up-you-lazy-bastard kind of washing. Sometimes I splash it a few times to wake myself up more or take some oil off the oilier parts of my face, but I rarely/never use facewash or anything. It’s just water.

have you ever been high?

Nope

have you ever been drunk?

Nu-uh

last thing you ate?

Some cheap microwave chimichanga

favorite lyrics right now

Why not let me win? – You can’t dodge forever. Even if the pain is more fun together! You know I will just reset and come back newer :) and with every try I’m getting even faster than you are.

summer or winter?

Summer, if I can actually go outside and enjoy it and am not trapped in my black scrubs all day. Winter if I can look out the window and enjoy it

day or night?

Night

dark, milk, or white chocolate?

White chocolate when paired with other things, milk chocolate when by itself

favorite month?

April

what is your zodiac sign

Scorpio!

who was the last person you cried in front of?

My mom

#personal #asks #random questions #questions #ask

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