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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

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Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot

Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another

Word count: 7524

Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd. When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life. They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene. For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey. Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him. With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did. “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face. She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.” Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well. So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit. “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.” For that, she received a slap on her arm from him. “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.” That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.

“Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.” With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise. And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something. But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had. “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms. In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head. She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have. And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant. Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all. Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever. He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her. The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her. Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her. That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last. He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him. Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend? Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’ Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others. Bring Back Manly Men. At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life. “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?” “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.” “Why?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.” “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?” “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.” He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen. Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle. Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had. Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.” At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!” “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?” “You’re a menace.” Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.” His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head. For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?” Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.” She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!” “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?” “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.” Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?” “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?” “Deal.” “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“ But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call. She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her. When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox. “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.” He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.” “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after. “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.” That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.” “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.” “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.” The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’. To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N. The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck. I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing. Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.” “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.” But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything. Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word. He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on. But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself. Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone. Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.” That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?” “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.” “What? Why?” “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.” “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip. She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?” “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood. “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.” Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.” It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time. Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.” She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’ Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry. Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings. As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked. “Have you even slept, Har?” “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.” Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.” “I know, but I will.” Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over. She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head. “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?” But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around. “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two. Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?” “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.” Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?” “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.” Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her. All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together. Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course. For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together. As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot. No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to. A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing. “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.” She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest. Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set. This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’. Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?” “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?” “I told you I would!” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.” Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?” “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.” “That’s what friends do.” “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?” And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do. The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest. His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face. She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.” Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.” “And you’re a living furnace.” “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?” The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.” For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work. “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.” He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?” “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.” “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves. “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.” Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.” “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?” “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?” She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?” “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?” “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.” “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.” Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back. It was then or never. Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart. “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?” “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.” Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.” “Oh.” That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.” At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session. In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible. As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers. “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded. “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.” Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it. “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.” “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp. “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.” But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on. The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her. But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.” Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.” And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment. “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him. “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.” “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.” “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.” But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?” “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…” Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!” And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes) – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: I loved writing this so much :)

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission.

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yuthoe · 3 years

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Day 13: Bunny Cheeks (MONSTA X: Wonho)

it's already the 14th in korea and also here in a few minutes, so

🎉HAPPY 6TH ANNIVERSARY, MONSTA X AND WONHO!!🎉

monbebe and wenee love you all so much! and we can't wait for more success that will come to you guys!

~~anyway~~

today's prompt from this list is:

Day 13: First Kiss

and i thought, there is no better choice for this prompt except for the softest fluffiest pisces boy wonho. and i was right! i enjoyed every moment writing this (in between crying over mx and kihyun--pls give him a lot of love, he needs it rn)!

PAIRING: Wonho x reader. GENRE: fic, tooth-rotting fluff, wonho's dazzling smile. WARNINGS: none. WORD COUNT: 900.

---

You can’t stop staring at him. For how many minutes at a time is it socially acceptable to stare at your boyfriend while he tries to make an origami rabbit, big hands trying to fold teeny tiny sections of paper and toned arms tensed in the tight sleeves of his shirt. You already finished yours and are just waiting for him so you can have a contest to see whose rabbit leaps the farthest.

Relaxed with an elbow on the table, you watch Hoseok with an amused smile, unable to get over how adorable he is, with his lips pursed and brows furrowed in concentration. You’ve been friends for ages, but had just started dating, and the butterflies in your stomach just keep increasing the more invested he becomes with the origami. The sight is almost comical, with this bodybuilder of a man trying to transform a five-inch square of paper into a bunny.

He’s so cute you want to kiss him.

“Done!’ he exclaims, holding up the tiny paper animal up triumphantly.

“Okay, game time,” you say, shuffling around the long coffee table to sit in front of the short side, Hoseok crawling beside you.

You line up the rabbits and poise your finger on the butts of your respective bunnies, testing out the proverbial springs by lowering and raising your finger.

Hoseok inhales, weirdly excited for your little game, and counts. “One. Two. Three!”

The rabbits go flying and you scramble to your feet to chase after them as they topple off the table, yelling and laughing all the while.

You catch up with the rabbits at the same time and once again erupt into screaming when you discover the rabbits had gotten stuck together mid-flight and are lying right next to each other.

“Oh man,” Hoseok says, sitting back down on the floor and resting his weight on his hands. “I thought I made my bunny super strong.”

You laugh, moving to sit next to him and extricate the bunnies from each other. “Hmmm, I think the smaller the rabbit, the more powerful the leap, so it would go farther. Both our bunnies are made from five-inch paper, so I was expecting a close match. But if your rabbit were smaller, then it should be stronger. I don’t know, it’s something about projectile physics I’m too lazy to try to remember.”

As you talk and examine the rabbits, Hoseok is looking at you with the softest smile, finding everything you do cute—whether it be teaching him how to make origami animals or humoring his jokes with actual facts and theories.

Aaahh, you’re so cute he wants to kiss you.

You’re leaned back against the couch, lounging beside him, and he shifts to face you. You catch the movement and turn to him, eyes soft and curious. Cross-legged and twiddling his thumbs, Hoseok feels small, afraid of breaching the topic in case you aren’t ready for it. But he’s been thinking about kissing you for about a month now, and he can’t get it out of his head.

He looks at his hands, subtly clears his throat and is about to speak when you suddenly say, “Hoseok, can I kiss you?”

His head shoots up, eyes meeting yours before you look away in a panic. “Eh?”

“Nothing!”

“Hey, hey—No, you said something,” Hoseok says, leaning over to cup your cheek to make you look at him. He heard you quite clearly and he feels the smile plastered on his face.

You tense, resisting the quiet strength of his palm against your cheek, but you eventually relent and look at him. His warm hand still cups your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone. You purse your lips and set your gaze on Hoseok’s broad chest, quietly say, “I asked if I could kiss you.”

And you can’t see the giddy smile bloom on your boyfriend’s face if you’re not looking at him, so Hoseok cups the other side of your face and waits until you finally lift your eyes to his. He says nothing, but he doesn’t have to—like a secret code only the both of you know, a small, mildly embarrassed smile lights up your face as well.

You breathe in, relaxed now and safe in his hold. “Can I kiss you, Hoseok?”

If possible, Hoseok’s grin widens even more, and you can’t stop yours from getting bigger either. He nods enthusiastically, so excited like he’s getting a special treat. “Of course you can,” he says and stays still, waiting for you to close the distance. His gaze is firm and patient.

You hold the hands on your cheeks and lean in, touch your lips to his. It’s soft, like flower petals and bunny cheeks and a light drizzle on a summer day. You pull back and Hoseok chases after you, connecting your lips again as if he doesn’t want it to end.

You’re crowded against the couch with Hoseok leaning over you. One of his hands is still cupping your face; the other is braced on the floor, the tips of your fingers lightly resting over his. He savors it—the connection, the intimacy, your relaxing presence that calms his mind and the beating of his heart.

So this is what it’s like to kiss your special person, he thinks. And he’s quite content to just bask in the warmth and softness as your lips meet again and again.

#kdiarynet #monsta x #wonho #monsta x wonho #lee hoseok #monsta x wonho scenario #monsta x wonho imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #wonho scenario #wonho imagine #fic: mine #fic: wonho #fic: not spicy #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

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vinodiriso · 5 years

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Adrian “Prototip”‘s sheet.

BACKGROUND --- TIMELINE.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME Adrian Mihai Lupei. NICKNAME(S) Lup-ul. ALIAS(ES) Prototip. TITLE None. OCCUPATION Sniper for the Romanian-Moldovan Fourth Anti-Omnic Regiment (Românesc și Moldovenesc Anti-Omnic A Patra Regiment) [formerly], soldier of fortune. AGE 44. DATE OF BIRTH November 15th. NATIONALITY Romanian. ORIENTATION Pansexual. GENDER & PRONOUNS Cis male, he. RELIGION Eastern Orthodox Church.

PHYSICAL INFORMATION

FACE CLAIM Jake Muller / Wesker from Resident Evil 6. HEIGHT 190 cm / 6'3 ft WEIGHT 80 kg / 176 lb EYE COLOUR Blue, a pale, fair hue. His eyes are small, oblong, mildly sunken in the slim face. The thick eyelashes and eyebrows give a more expressive about to him, where the colour and the shape of his eyes alone could come off as pretty intimidating. HAIR COLOUR + STYLE Copper red, shaved short. A remembrance of when he was a soldier... "and Beznă's guinea pig". DOMINANT HAND Right-handed. After the experimentation, he has become confident in carrying out most tasks using his non-dominant hand as well. DISTINGUISHING FEATURES A scar crossing his left cheek, it reaches the base of his jaw. ACCENT + INTENSITY He does have an accent, but it will not sound so to the ear of any people that don't speak Romanian. TATTOO(S) On his left wrist: Prototip AE92890. He was marked so during his detention time at Beznă's research centre in Siberia. SCAR(S) See above. He has minor scars and marks all over his body, given the life he has conducted first as a gamin, second as a soldier and then as a mercenary. PIERCING(S) None. GLASSES None.

PERSONALITY INFORMATION

JUNG TYPE ESTJ. MORAL ALIGNMENT Chaotic Good - Chaotic Neutral. ANGER Prototip is a straight-in-your-face kind of person, so making him angry is more likely than not going to gain you a punch from a genetically-engineered, hot-headed Romanian. Obviously, anger is a broad word: personal threats, misjudgement of his abilities, payment refusal and whatever concerns his personal life is going to get him angry enough to unleash violently. APPROACHABILITY Prototip is not that bad of a guy: yes, he is snarky; yes, he is sassy; yes, he will gently bully you at times; but he is one that people generally don't mind cracking an open one with. INTELLIGENCE TYPE Natural intelligence. IQ~ 85 before Beznă's experiments. 217 after Beznă. DETERIORATION Desire to be valuable (chasing after success). NEURODIVERGENCE(S) PTSD. AT RISK None known.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

HOMETOWN Alba Iulia, Transylvania, Romania. BASE OF OPERATIONS Bucharest, Romania. LANGUAGE(S) Romanian, Polish, Ukrainian, Russian, Czech, French, German, English, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Swedish, Hindi, Cantonese Chinese... and probably some other more he can't recall right now. SOCIAL CLASS Low. LEVEL OF EDUCATION Sufficiently educated. He went to school until 2nd year of high school. PARENT #1 Unknown to him. His father's name is Dan Diacunescu. PARENT #2 Oana Lupei, deceased. SIBLING(S) None to his knowledge. His father has 3 other children: Corneliu Diacunescu, Dragoş Diacunescu and Elena Diacunescu. PET(S) None. PRISON TIME? Criminal prison, a total of 2 years. Beznă detainment was 4 years long.

VICES + HABITS

SMOKES? No. DRINKS? Yes. Prototip is an indulgent drinker with a taste for vodka. DRUGS? Yes, but he won't talk about it. It was a thing of his past, a thing he would not go through anymore. VIOLENT? Usually, when not on the battlefield, not. See above. ADDICTION(S)? Alcohol, adrenaline rushes, money (and consequently, working), battlefield. SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? Even if he tried, it would be hard to destroy his self: he has been genetically modified to be more resistant than most to pain, hunger and fatigue. Jokes aside, Prototip respects himself enough not to actively seek out troubling situations. Yes, he indulges in drinking, yes, he has sniffed his fair dose of candy when he was younger, but he strays away from most other destructive activities. HABIT(S) Night owl and early bird at the same time (his body needs only am average of 4 hours of sleep a night), taking a stroll around the streets he knows work is needed, mooching a breakfast from old lady Flora, checking job offers with his squealers. HOBBIES Music, dancing, watching sports, playing basketball. LIKES Aside for anything stated above, Prototip also likes reading classics (it is a display of culture he has always been kept away from given his background and his social condition) and driving motorcycles; he is a proud owner of a Honda Rune that he won't trade for anything good on this earth. DISLIKES Liars, cheaters, unfair people, people that go back on their promises, bad parents, adults violence on children. TIC(S) Neck and knuckles cracking. OBSESSION(S) Knowing what happened the time he spent in Siberia with Beznă agents. COMPULSION(S) Money, financial security, is his biggest compulsion. For Prototip, money buys everything one might possibly need. A life without money is not a life. The fact that he doesn't dislike spending money only aggravates his condition towards richness.

MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION

HOGWARTS HOUSE Gryffindor. ARCHETYPE The Dreamer. ZODIAC Scorpio. VICE Greed. VIRTUE Courage. ELEMENT Fire. ANIMAL Wolf.

#GETTING CLOSER WHOOOOOOOOOOO #adrian mihai prototip lupei.#long post

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mari-vargas · 3 years

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Let’s start these story times with something that may be considered a rant (sorry to anyone who actually decided to read these this probably isn’t my best example and was never something anyone said “you should write a book” about). (Edit: an actual story eventually popped up)

I never cared about the whole “social ladder” or whatever you personally know it to be called. To be fair I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with an actual proper social ladder. (Stories about my weird schooling will probably follow eventually, but in the meantime since I’ll be focusing on high school just know that I went to what I’ve dubbed a school for nerds.)

In high school, my lack of care about the entire social hierarchy was simultaneously more obvious and less of a line in the sand. I’d experienced cliques before and had never cared to be dragged into their drama (cue story about 6th grade and losing both of my only friends), but they had always been “either you’re cool or you’re not” and I just never was because of a multitude of reasons. High school on the other hand had very obvious “A-listers”, “B-listers”, “C-listers”, and even some other dubious categories on the social ladder. They weren’t...the same as at other schools (my experience of which was through movies and shows, and stories from my older sister which...couldn’t really hold water because of her accidental lack of awareness and understanding of social norms). By my understanding, top of the ladder would be the jocks and cheerleaders, and bottom would be the nerds and geeks.

So imagine a school in which you only have the section of the social ladder dedicated to the nerds, with no sports and the teams everyone was rooting for were robotics and mock trial, with debate and speech teams occasionally getting the odd mention. That’s it right? One big group of nerds, end post.

Except it’s not. Suddenly there’s a new delineation between who’s cool and who’s not. You’ve now got a very familiar social hierarchy, without the familiar categories. I’m not even sure how to describe the new structure. I could say the theater kids were at the top, then the athletically inclined, the technological gods, and so on and so forth...but that wasn’t really quite what made it so definitive. You could clearly see the different levels everyone was at, and maybe it’s because I never cared enough to figure it out, but I could not tell you what exactly made one person be so clearly at the top and another be a wannabe second rate attempt.

Regardless, I had so decisively declared that I’d not ever bother trying to grab a single rung of that social ladder, and was quite comfortable sitting at the bottom of the well thank you very much, that it provided me with some rather surprising perks. I was essentially neutral ground. I’d received probably the least amount of bullying in my entire life, and pretty much my only exposure to drama was when someone needed a break from it. Actually, a big point that last part is. Starting halfway through sophomore year I wound up making a lot more friends than I’d ever had in my entire life combined (story on factors that played into that to come later on because it’s not simple). We’re these people also against the social hierarchy? Or perhaps had they been shunted to the bottom rung perhaps? Not at all actually. They came from almost all levels of the ladder and heck I could even have casual conversations or even have my opinions be listened to and taken into consideration by A-listers. Somehow I’d managed to have ears everywhere, and I got to know about everything that was going on without having to be involved. I even managed to use this a couple of times (often by accident to be completely honest) to help my friends or their friends with whatever situation they were in.

Okay but the best advantage from all of this? One I NEVER would have seen coming? Was the way my apparent reputation played a roll in the utter destruction of rumors about me before they’d ever even reached my ears. (Ps did not expect to include this story here but I think anyone who got through all of that deserves an actual story from me.)

It was my senior year of high school. My ex had broken up with me in the last week of the prior school year, and within the first month of the new school year started dating a freshman (he was a junior and therefore my age, story on that later). Now this freshman...was perhaps way too much like my ex, which might be okay on paper but in reality was a pit of poisoned spikes poorly disguised by a leaf tarp but my ex (in this analogy) had poor eyesight. Eventually he had the thought “hmm this was a Bad Idea” and—I’m not entirely sure about this part—probably had started to mildly distance himself from her. Or perhaps had simply decided to spend more time with his friends (probably even with her present to not distance her, but again I don’t actually know). For all I really know who could actually just be a huge idiot and started complaining about her “faults” (which he shared but absolutely did not see in himself) and maybe even threw in a comment about me (wouldn’t be surprised, but that’s a whole different story that I just so don’t want to get into). Regardless of what exactly happened, she had apparently determined me to be a threat to their continued relationship and sought to ruin me socially.

Yes I really did just say that.

Miss freshman tried to discredit me, a senior who had well established just how much I didn’t care about my social standing. Actually to be perfectly honest if any of her rumors had lasted—or been true—I probably would’ve been seen as cooler than I actually was.

The first rumor actually managed to get spread around quite a bit. Her “friend” had supposedly told her that they’d seen her boyfriend making out with me on this third floor landing that only served to hold the door to the roof of that particular building. It was actually a well known place I could be found, sometimes with people sometimes alone, and was also known as a frequent make out location due to its size and odd location making it fairly isolated from traffic. I think I heard about this one just before it got shut down by my friends and some of their friends (and a couple more orders removed) due to their knowledge of how I felt about unfaithfulness (yet another story for another time).

It kept going in similar veins for a while, each time getting ramped up a bit more to where even people who’d only ever seen me passing by and hadn’t even heard a thing about me were a bit dubious about the truthfulness of the rumors.

Everything came to a head with her final desperate attempt. This time, she was saying her “friend” had told her they’d seen her boyfriend having sex with me in the back of my car out in the school parking lot. (Just as a note, even the friend was apparently trying to distance themself from that one.) From what I heard it hadn’t even made it past the first person before it got called out, shot down, neutralized, whatever your favorite description might be. But the best part was that I got to witness the leader of the senior class A-listers shut down Miss Freshman and point out how laughably flawed her rumors were and that if she’d wanted anyone to actually believe them for more than an hour she should have picked a different target.

There’s probably a lot of reasons why this one rumor in particular was so obviously fake to literally anyone (not the least of which had to do with my realization almost a year after this incident that as it turns out I was likely Asexual or at least gray-asexual), but honestly one of the ones I was told was that it incurred way too much drama. I was WELL KNOWN for literally walking away at the first sign of unnecessary drama, at the least. (Ps being a drama queen and getting involved in drama are two vastly different things just so we’re clear in case that ever comes up.) Why do such an act in a location where it could be spotted when there were so many more private locations? Pretty much the only reasons could be hormone driven (which apparently even without a reason or even with the most simple reason (evidence: my niece) was easy to spot as un-fricking-likely) or to stir up drama. Like I said even people who did not care one iota about me knew the falsehood of the rumors (or I suppose at least that one) and we’re pretty much just done with her bs at that point.

She learned her lesson and stopped trying her bs against me, especially when she realized I genuinely had zero interest in dealing with that guy again anytime soon (emphasis on anytime soon, but that eventually changed to ever). She was however much more successful of spreading rumors about her new ex about a month or so later because 1) they weren’t so blatantly false to the person they were against and 2) her audience was no longer the student population. He wound up expelled and had to talk to police at least once that I can remember.

So ya...wildly different from where this post started but I guess take that however you decide to about the way these posts will go...

#story time #mari’s life #life with mari #story ideas #story prompt #if you choose to take it that way #social hierarchy #high school #rumors #wow I’m sorry

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therealmikegolay · 4 years

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project flow state q&a

still the dumbest thing i’ve done. this month, anyway.

if you missed the initial post, here you go. please help where you can!

meanwhile: you have questions (at least one of you). i have answers (of course i do).

why did you do this?

excellent question. the shortest possible answer is: i like, and respond well to, structure and projects. covid-19 has thrown the world for a loop. many of the things we’ve taken for granted in our lives are, at the moment, simply no longer safely possible. i’d been looking for ways to stay motivated in my personal life, but also keep myself and my family out of harm’s way. normally i’d be knee-deep in mountain bike race season this time of year. racing is not happening for the most part in north america this season, and speaking personally, i’ve decided that i won’t participate in mass gathering events, even if they do occur, until a covid-19 vaccine is available (there are several immune compromised people in my family, first and foremost, and further, i am simply unwilling to be a transmission vector in my community and beyond - i don’t think we should be mass-start racing or gathering in large groups, even outside, to be clear). so we have challenges like this one to keep us reaching. i wanted to do it alone, no support.

i confided my intentions to only a very few: my wife and daughter (they were not thrilled), a close friend (i wondered aloud about the possibility that i might be able to complete the goal on a slack DM - the place where most bad ideas are born, these days), and my longtime coach, al donahue (he was excited?). i wanted to make sure i did the thing. i didn’t want to talk about doing the thing, or get overloaded with input about how or why i should or shouldn’t do the thing. less talk, more do.

so i started putting together a plan.

and then things got [even] worse in america. george floyd, breonna taylor, ahmaud arbery… a country consumed by shock, anger and protest. a lot of us went necessarily silent, became introspective, listened, tried to become allies, demonstrated for change however we could. more or less concurrently, a continued wave of infection and federal inaction overtook our country.

as i took a look around, it became clear to me that, while in some respects i still just wanted to ride my bike out of self-preservation if nothing else, at the same time, i thought it might be possible to raise awareness and direct attention back toward those who were and are still fighting the good fight, as well as toward those in need (sometimes these are the same people). that’s what this project became, as it evolved. (you can still help.)

why didn’t you list black lives matter in the charitable section of your first post?

this was the toughest call that i made during the last two months preparing all facets of this project. first, i 100% support black lives matter. hup united, my longtime team, have been vocally and visibly supportive of the movement. we’ve raised funds through organized [socially distanced] rides. several of us have launched personal project fundraisers designed to benefit black communities. i’ve personally donated to the movement and did my own DIYBLM ride. i’ve tried, and continue to strive, to be an advocate for people of color in my community.

in the end, i concluded that adding black lives matter to a personal bike project unnecessarily diluted the message of the black lives matter movement. it stands on its own and i didn’t want to diminish its importance by attaching it to this particular effort.

in my mind, covid-19 and systemic racism are the two biggest issues my country faces (along with voter rights), and the overlap between the two (or three), along with the fact that covid affects communities of color at much higher rates than white populations, is heartbreaking and must be addressed. i just didn’t think a white guy going up and down a hill on a bike was the right way to shine that particular spotlight, right now. i’ll continue to listen, learn, support and encourage feedback.

did you train for this thing?

i. did? [hangs head in shame]

what does training look like for something like this?

a lot of long-ish rides at low-end endurance heart rate and lots of muscular endurance around lactate threshold, basically. a couple of easy days per week, and hopefully a fun ride mixed in (around tempo). i had a pretty strong aerobic base going in, from lots of skimo training over the winter, and fairly structured, largely aerobic (vs. anaerobic) efforts (cycling, running and hiking) in the spring. i also did a ton of trail building and landscaping around the house, which is pure suffering, along with the same somewhat minimal core work i [try to] always do. sucks getting old.

i didn’t do any 12-hour rides. that’s not necessary, practical, or smart (for me). save the juice for the party punchbowl, am i right? i did a number of endurance-pace mountain bike rides in the 3-5 hour range - basically my weekend - leading into project day.

the basic idea: i needed to concentrate training in the zone allowing me to meter out a practical effort that would get me through 10-15 hours on the bike. that meant the low end of endurance heart rate, for me. i paid almost zero attention to power output, other than to set ceilings for “this is going too hard.” efforts over threshold will tank an endurance attempt like this one, so keeping those in check was key.

i wasn’t going to be successful just winging it. i’m marginally talented, at my very best.

did you concentrate on anything in particular during the ride? how did you stay focused? did you stay focused?

the single most important thing on something like this (for me) was hydration/nutrition. that was the key point coach al impressed upon me during our first conversation about an attempt, and was something i practiced during training rides. if you get in a hole in either of these areas on a very long effort, you’re sunk. period. you can’t recover. i did not want to be defeated due to not taking care of myself. i’d put a lot of time into this thing and didn’t want to make stupid mistakes. i had a cooler full of water bottles at a small aid station at the lap turnaround point at the bottom of the circuit. i made myself drink a bottle an hour. drinking was only possible (for me) on the uphill. if i hadn’t finished a bottle within the hour while riding, i finished it at the aid station. in the end, i consumed 13 bottles of water (with skratch electrolyte) and a recovery drink after (it took me about an hour to get it down). the water consumption actually turned out to be more than i needed in order to replace sweat, but i don’t have regrets (i love to pee, it’s great). i had a staggered schedule for consuming food, which consisted of clif bloks, skratch bars, bananas, peanut butter sandwiches, and rice cakes. i ended up eating a little less than i’d planned, but still managed to get through most of it.

the second most important thing was not going too hard. i watched heart rate, not really like a hawk, but i kept an eye on it, again, just trying to stay below a ceiling (i have a weird heart: low maximum, narrow working range, resulting in lower numbers for given efforts than most athletes my age). i had to be honest in terms of logistics in order to maximize the chances of a successful outcome. it was very, very difficult to get my head around what it was going to take to be on the bike for 10+ hours. there are riders who make a practice of rides like that. i’m not really one of them. six hour races are the max length i’ve ever done, and i think i might have done an eight-hour ride once. two- to four-hour races (or shorter, shorter is fine) are more my speed. this was not a race. this was not a race effort. i did a couple of test “hours” on the track prior to the attempt where i tried to benchmark how many laps i could comfortably do in an hour at low-end endurance heart rate (7 laps). then i had to take that number and factor in how many i could do… over the space of… 10-15 hours (the fastest i figured i could go, to the longest period of time i figured i’d be capable). that turned out to be 5-6 laps per hour, with a brief break each hour (moving time was 11:43:22 when i shut off the garmin - meaning i lost about an hour and 15 minutes eating, drinking and peeing). that meant a 13-14 hour day, which was kind of crushing to consider, at the outset. i’d loved to have gone faster, but i knew it wasn’t going to be possible (for me) to complete the overall goal if i just went hahdah dyude. one interesting thing in terms of heart rate is that i saw mine steadily drop in the last four hours of the ride, which al told me would happen. i’m used to shorter, 2-4-hour efforts, where heart rate increases with fatigue. but then you, you know, stop, after 2-4 hours. i wasn’t going to be stopping. in the last four hours of the attempt i started to see my heart rate slowly but steadily decrease from the ceiling i’d been hitting on the climb, even though i was still pedalling at the same cadence and rough power as before. at one point i got down to 108bpm, which was crazy. it came back up a little in the last hour but was still comparatively low.

the third most important thing was simply wanting to see this through. 177’-ish vertical feet isn’t much. it was, at times, somewhere between mildly to incredibly disconcerting to see just how slowly the laps added up in terms of overall ascent. if you’re a data person, i imagine you could work yourself into a lather just worrying about pace and averages and various. i tried to do the opposite, as much as possible. noisy brain = no good. i did the first hour in the dark and felt fine (lotta toad activity!). i did the second hour as the sun rose and felt the same. i was in my head a lot during those early several laps, and at around the second hour i did briefly consider just how incredibly stupid it was to be riding 1.4 miles over and over and over. then i hit 3k’ overall ascent, and it occurred to me that i was 25% done, which somehow brightened my outlook. and then 4k’. 33%. 8k’, 66%, was pretty huge. i knew i could do it, barring mechanical or complete breakdown. at 2k’ ascent to go i knew i had it in the bag, but was not thrilled to be out there for much longer. the last two hours were hard. i just wanted to be done. the after work crowd was starting to show up on the trails and, god love them all, i just wanted to be out of there and out of everyone’s way. i was happy to simply be finished. i got through this by not thinking much, and just pedalling, which was what i’d hoped would happen, and why i named the thing project flow state. i think i basically got there.

how hard did you go uphill? how steep is the track?

not very hard, at all. for the last couple of hours (hour 11-ish+) i switched into my little ring (i still run a double! i’m a relic!) on the steepest section of the up track, just to spin and save my legs from a little torque where possible. the uphill portion is about 5-6% grade. it never gets steeper than 7%, other than a very short section gaining the hayfield near the bottom.

how fast did you go downhill?

not very fast. at all. for a long attempt like this one, the best possible thing you could do to save energy is just… go downhill and not pedal. at all. that’s almost, but not quite, possible on the flow trail, if you stay off the brakes, which… i don’t. i was concerned about getting a little too loose and being a little too tired over 12 hours or whatever, so i rode very conservatively all day. the fastest i went, for reference, was a little less than half as fast as the top 10 KOMs on the downhill segment (which is insane - so damn fast). it’s not a particularly technical track, but there are frequently riders on it, there are trees, there are ways to screw it up. i just wanted to get down every lap without incident, and concentrate on recovery. i tried not to pedal wherever possible.

why did you choose this segment instead of something less stupid?

during the attempt i saw a few friends on the trails (sorry we didn’t chat more, folks, i still feel bad), one of whom asked why i hadn’t used a segment with more vertical gain, which would have made so much more sense (i don’t disagree).

the truth is that there’s a continuing trail above the flow trail that would have roughly doubled the vertical ascent per lap. i told the friend mentioned above that i’d later explain why i didn’t use that segment, which is one i’ve ridden hundreds of times and is one i frequently use for dirt threshold intervals (it’s also a very popular downhill grand tour of the area, from the top). here goes.

while there’s more vertical to gain going higher, there are some distinct disadvantages to that long segment, which i’ll work through from the bottom up. first, there’s a short, blind corner above the lap turnaround that i used. second, there’s a fairly long, not-very-technical-but-you-still-don’t-want-to-fall-off-of-it bog bridge that comes quickly thereafter, frequently the site of 2-way traffic and foot-downs. third, there’s a road crossing with a blind curve about 50 feet up the road on the rider’s left, with a fair amount of vehicular traffic, often traveling well above the speed limit. fourth, there’s a fairly steep, 2-way, primarily downhill trail to the top that sees a ton of rider and occasional foot traffic. starting at my aid station at the bottom of the valley, i’d have had to do about 30 laps of this circuit, in all, to get to 12k’ total (there are also a few sections where you actually lose elevation; gains are efficient, losses are not). so, for that particular route, which again, i’ve ridden many, many times, i’d have had to navigate blind corners, cross a bog bridge [fatigued] 60 times, cross a road 60 times, and most importantly, navigate a 2-way downhill with traffic potential 60 times, with covid-19 a concern all the while. the weight of worry alone on something like this almost guarantees failure (for me). i could have just done the top portion, set up an aid station on the road, i suppose, but that upper segment (which is actually a little less elevation gain - at ~150′ - than the circuit i chose) just isn’t what i had in mind, is significantly steeper and blind in sections, and wasn’t optimal for lots of reasons. so i had definitely considered it, talked with al about it, but it wasn’t right, for me. if any of you wanna try it, let me know how it goes.

what i knew i wanted to do was stay as local as possible (we live near the start of the circuit i chose), ensure safety in terms of traffic (hardly anyone rides down the up track i used at this point, and the flow creek trail is downhill only) and make setup and teardown of the aid station as easy as possible, because tired, coming and going. i feel like the circuit i chose ticked all of those boxes. there is one other trail in the area that would have been slightly more efficient for the goal overall (still, only giving me 2′ additional feet per lap in elevation over the circuit i used), but it would have been nearly impossible to stage an aid station without the help of a small army (i didn’t want to rely on external support), the descent is far more technical and consequential than i was willing to accept on a long day (it still would have been 40 laps), and there would have been significantly more traffic.

so that’s why i made the decisions on the circuit, despite the short lap. in the end, you go with what you have at your disposal. and that’s what i think about that.

how did it feel to hit the goal?

on brand. pretty empty.

i wish i was kidding. and i wish i could have felt joy. but i was just relieved to be done, and i wanted to get down safely, and get my crap out of there. and that’s what i did. my wife was probably happier than i was, according to our texts. i will say that, immediately, i was super stoked to have this out of the way and not have to think about it anymore.

did you have any problems?

i had a minor but noticeable drivetrain issue going into this event that i was frankly too busy to diagnose. it got worse during the day and became a cause for concern. i’m pretty sure it’s a freehub or hub bearing death, in process. i need to get it fixed. someday. soon.

i worried about my wrists. i wore wrist supports in the last six hours. i think they probably helped. no other issues really, other than feeling a little bloated from all of the water. my arms got a little bit crampy toward the end.

and one other thing i’ll cover elsewhere, eventually.

what was the hardest part?

waiting. i was ready to go late-june. i wanted to get it done before fourth of july weekend. i’d drawn a circle on the calendar around june 30-july 2, latest. i was not going to do the thing on a holiday, on a weekend, or during crap weather. i felt ready to go on the week of june 29, and then… so much rain. so, so, so much rain. it wasn’t going to do to ride wet trails, on some of the most frequented singletrack in the state, no less (please stay off wet trails!). and it wasn’t going to do to ride this thing with throngs of people out there. so i waited. until a monday, which was odd, as that’s typically an easy day for me on the bike. i got up at 2am, left the house at 3am, was set up by 3:30am, and started at 3:45am. there wasn’t any point in waiting any longer.

in terms of perceived exertion, this was less physically difficult than i imagined it might be. it was hard, but nowhere near terrible. the hardest part was just watching the numbers slowly, very, very slowly, accumulate.

were there any surprises?

i saw a weasel sniffing around near my aid station. it didn’t seem to notice me until i said, “hey weasel.” this was the best part of the day.

should i try this project?

i don’t recommend it.

thanks for reading, and again, please keep an eye out for one another.

#projectflowstate #vote #supereuro

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kokichiomakin · 6 years

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Roquill Misc. Child Headcanons

eeooookay so this is mostly going to be headcanons about my personal fankiddo for roquill, lucille ‘lucy’ meredith quill, so just a fair warning

alright so i’ve mentioned lucy before in my last headcanons post, she’s rocket’s daughter, he carried her to term, she’s a cute little girl with brown hair just like quill and little raccoon ears and a tail like rocket, though ultimately she looks more human than anything, she could be mistaken for human apart from the ears and tail

she’s a snarky little shit who has all the charm of quill and all the inner thoughts of ‘wow, people are dumb’ of rocket, probably rocket’s temper at times too but that’s all okay they all know how to handle it

her codename is bandit because ofc she has a mask just like quill does, except optimized for her ears, and it has a black stripe across the eye part too, sometimes star-bandit to connect her to both of her dads, she’s happy either way tho

the next part is going to be about baby lucy

okay so after the c-section delivery rocket is exhausted but his protective instincts definitely take over and he immediately wants to hold her and if he wasn’t so worn out at the moment he’d curl around her too, she’s his baby, gotta keep her warm and happy

when they get back to the milano they have to have lucy share a room with groot bc not that many rooms, tho groot just ends up wandering into mantis’ room at some point and sleeping there because of the occasional times lucy wakes up and cries

she’s a pretty happy baby, tho, she’s got a pretty smile just like her dad, quill loves her to no end && the minute people they know before see her and have a ??? reaction, quill is immediately on ‘HAVE YOU MET MY DAUGHTER?? SHES AWESOME I LOVE HER SHE’S CUTE AND ONE DAY SHE’LL TOTALLY KICK ASS TOO she bites sometimes tho so don’t touch her unless she touches you first’

just imagine quill just finding this mug that says ‘best dad in the galaxy’ and whoops his now that’s his title anyone who claims otherwise can fight him unless it’s rocket in which case they share there’s also that one post circling around tumblr where the dads and kids have matching shirts, there’s this one pair that has the dad wearing a shirt that says ‘THE ORIGINAL’ and the kid wearing a shirt that says ‘THE REMIX’ and you can bet anything that quill would immediately get both of those He Loves His Kid

rocket is a bit more subtle about it but he loves his little girl more than anything too and immediately nods nods nods every time quill says she’ll kick ass one day with a big smirk he’s the one that constantly wants to hold her and just hug her and he more often than not has the internal struggle of ‘I HAVE A GUN DO I HOLD THE GUN or do i hold my little girl my precious treasure gotta protect gotta hug her’, he hardly trusts anyone else with holding her apart from quill bc ‘no, no, shes mine and pete’s, she’s our cutie and no one else needs to worry it’s ok’ it’s adorable tho he’s very snuggly and his ears tend to twitch happily a lot and he likes kissing her on the top of her head, which makes her giggle she’s also one of the few things that can immediately calm him down from an anger spell which is great he purrs a lot around her too he’s super happy

lucy loves all of her family honestly tho but she loves her dads the most. and groot. of course.

anything that makes lucy cry tho is a Threat and rocket is the first to retaliate against any threats and he will tear someone apart if they even make her sniffle a little bit, and if some jackass got the brilliant idea to try to hurt her in any way, quill might actually kill that person before rocket could because crying? that could be an accident, she can calm down it’s ok i’m good at getting her to smile again anyway. threats? hi yes i’m going to kill you and spread your body parts across several different star systems so you can’t even get a proper burial, asshat, and i might not bother to kill you before i rip you apart. she is protected by a strong family and her dads are the most protective of all

she usually goes to sleep listening to the same music all her family does and quill loves that bc it’s like what his mom did for him it makes him tear up a bit if he thinks about it too much so now both quills are immediately just a bit comforted by the tunes it’s a thing in the family

her first word is gun. rocket is the one to first hear it while she’s just crawling around on the floor and he’s trying to work on weapons at the same time, she just looks up and with a small pause says ‘gun’ and he’s a mix of !! SHE SPEAKS and PFFFHAHAHA OFC SHE’S LIKE ME AFTER ALL and a bit later rocket just. brings her over to everyone. she says ‘gun’ again and he just. grins. quill cracks up. lucy learns to say the words gun, bomb, and prison fairly early in life. there is at least one time when they’re considering taking a contract from someone shady, they accidentally bring her along, rocket’s holding her, she clearly dislikes the person immediately so she looks them dead in the eyes with a hard frown and says ‘prison’ and rocket has to barely contain himself from laughing too hard, they end up not doing it based entirely on lucy shaking her head repeatedly and going ‘prison prison prison’

related mildly: there is probably at least some point where they hit a rough patch flying and lucy is shaken and she promptly screams ‘SON OF A BITCH’ and rocket and quill immediately start cackling and they have to focus on flying and quill just barely shouts back ‘LUCY DON’T SAY THAT DAD SAYS NO’ she still says it at least once in polite company and quill and rocket still end up wheezing with laughter

also the prosthetics thing probably transfers lucy looks at someone’s prosthetic arm, points at it ‘need it.’ rocket just goes SNRRK and is just ‘wELL,, SHE’S RIGHT YOU KNOW--SNRRK--SHE’S RIGHT WE NEeD IT’ while lucy giggles

as she gets older she gets a lot of quill’s confident attitude, she’s very headstrong and heroic but she’s super-stubborn too and has little temperamental fits, she’s a mix of rocket and quill after all. given the opportunity too when she reaches the age where she understands it all she can and will flirt with almost anyone, she is a master of the fingerguns too there is probably at least once when she hits on a girl and just ‘Hey if you ever wanna meet up with a badass space hero....call me, alright? I’m available.’ she winks with the biggest grin, gives the fingerguns, and moonwalks away and her first thought while leaving is SHIT I SHOULDA WINKED WITH THE OTHER EYE??

not that rocket would ever really trust someone with her to begin with, he is the dad that sits at the front entrance polishing a rifle if anyone dares to hit on her, she can easily walk up and take it away but then he’ll just pull out a machete and start polishing that instead, this process is infinite because rocket is very good at being protective and has a lot of weapons

unlike her dads who are totally flashy, showy, lucy picks up a pretty good talent in, of all things, sniping, which is most likely found out when a target is running away, and suddenly everyone hears a ‘BANG’ and the target falls over, dead the guardians just look around at each other like ‘did you shoot that? no’ up until they all pause and then slowly look at lucy, who stands there with a sniper rifle, her mask on, and just quietly mumbles ‘....that was what I was supposed to do, right’ rocket nearly tackles her in a hug, laughing, THAT’S HIS GIRL

she’s still very show-off-y, but if she gets serious that’s when she tries to go ONE SHOT, ONE KILL, and she’s successful a good amount of the time, but there are times that she’s not the best like when everyone’s not even sure where a head is to shoot at she’s not too great a close-quarters combat either but she can make do if she needs to, she’s best at holding it on the back lines and maybe sometimes creatively getting in closer on improvisation and planning (sometimes) it’s just that it’s a strong possibility some guy could fall over, dead, headshot, and she just walks up, her special earphones on her ears and everyone can just faintly hear do you remember~ the twenty-first night of september~

she never has any formal schooling but she’s fairly smart anyway, rocket made sure of that, but she knows how to pilot spacecraft pretty well and is pretty great at social cues, which is all she needs to get by along with her weapons training, she slowly learns how to build stuff too after a while, this stuff is in her dna but it takes a bit to bring it out

lucy miiiiight have celestial power in her dna very faintly, but it’s unlikely it’d ever be fully triggered, the most it does for her is give her the ability to take far more punishment than above-average much like her dad, she can breathe in space a bit longer than normal humans could and it takes a lot to knock her out

she probably also still instinctively bites at anyone who tries to touch her by surprise, her teeth aren’t sharp or anything but she will bite she can’t help it

she’s also a pretty good dancer because of course she is

i might add more stuff later but i think this is good for now

#roquill #Guardians of the Galaxy #fankid #fan child

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pikapepikachuu · 5 years

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How Josh Wakely landed the Beatles, Dylan, Motown and more

Could I please have a knife and fork, he asks the waiter as we take our seats in Mr Wong, a bustling, upscale modern Chinese restaurant in a converted warehouse in Sydneys CBD. Even as the words are leaving his lips, he knows theres a good chance theyll end up in print. I knew the risk I was taking, he says. He pulled the same stunt on his first date with the woman who was to become his wife. Shes a human rights lawyer and I was a semi-employed screenwriter and I went for the knife and fork. And how did it turn out? I got a second date, but it still burns her, he says. At least it wasnt a spoon. Wakely is quite happy to tell stories against himself. Hes proud of what he has achieved that his success allows him to order the spectacularly good salt-and-pepper Balmain bugs at this restaurant whenever hes in town, for instance and he has ambitions to achieve a lot more. But as a boy from Newcastle, he also knows it doesnt do to get ideas too far above your station. His parents were, comparatively speaking, quite posh his mother was a social worker, his father a teacher but the town in which he was raised was dominated in every sense by the steel plant, at least until it closed in 2000. Everyone was employed in BHP and then everyone wasnt, he says. It was a very working-class world and thats still the world I feel most comfortable in. And yet the one thing I could do was write, though I didnt really know what to do with that.

The salt and pepper Balmain bugs are a highlight.Credit:Louise Kennerley He lasted just five weeks in an arts-law degree at Newcastle Uni his brush with torts was cut short when he rocked up to class dripping from the surf, only to have his tutor tell him, I dont think youll be a lawyer before decamping to Sydney with dreams of making it as a writer. Some good reviews for his 2002 play Woomera in which he also starred as a young detention-centre guard helped earn him a place at the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, even though acting wasnt his primary interest. So I rang up the head of WAAPA and said, Ill come to your drama school, but I want to be a writer and director, he recalls, laughing at his own chutzpah. He says Im the only person whos ever rung up and negotiated. The tyro writer did all the acting and dancing expected of him even though he wasnt particularly good at it. Then he would go home and write for four or five hours, every night. By the time he left he had enough work under his belt to convince a series of producers to pay him to write screenplays none of which ever made it to production, he says, because they were just too ambitious for Australian budgets.

Beat Bugs marries the songs of the Beatles with computer-animated critters.Credit:Netflix Thats why his credits pre-Netflix are, to put it mildly, rather thin. But if he was guilty of thinking too big back then, Wakely has zero regrets. There is great power in being wildly naive, he says. Unquestionably, though, his most pie-in-the-sky idea was to go after the rights to the Beatles catalogue with an eye to turning their songs into an animated childrens series.

The bill, pleaseCredit:Karl Quinn Beat Bugs has recently produced its third season for Netflix, won him a screenwriting Emmy, and spawned three albums of Beatles covers by the likes of Sia, Pink, Rod Stewart and The Shins. Next year, a live version is set for an 80-city tour of the US and Canada. It's fair to say it's been a hit. But for a long time after Wakely and his wife moved to Los Angeles about a decade ago, it was just another wildly ambitious plan seemingly destined to go nowhere. One day, Wakelys worried father-in-law, visiting from Australia, tapped on the door of the garage where he wrote and asked what his back-up plan was if he didnt manage to land the Beatles rights. Ive got a good idea for Bob Dylan, came the reply. His father-in-law closed the door, shook his head in despair and walked away. Now I look back on it, he was the sane one, Wakely says. I was insane. When he finally got a chance to put his idea to Sony/ATV, which holds the publishing rights, Wakely rocked up with a demo recorded for $200 by his old mate Daniel Johns in one hand and a pitch document hed put together at a local printing shop in the other. The meeting didnt go well. For some reason, he was made to stand on a cushion, and its very hard to keep your status on a cushion. Then one of the executives fell asleep while Wakely was talking. Worst of all, when he hit play on the stereo it didnt work. And I just remember thinking, I am f---ed. It could have been a fatal blow, but as I left one of the guys there said, Hello, Goodbye would be a good song for children. That was enough. For Sony/ATV, the appeal of Beat Bugs lay in exposing the music to a generation that might otherwise never hear it. It refreshes their catalogues, it keeps them pertinent and present, Wakely says. If you refresh it, it stays in the culture. Presumably there was the small matter of a significant sum being handed over too? To be clear, I think the Beatles were fine without me, he says. I dont think it was ever about the cash. They made the cash long ago. Once he had the rights, everyone wanted to talk to Josh Wakely. In the weeks after, it was all expensive cars coming to take me to meetings at Disney and Dreamworks, he says. But while being feted was nice, he realised that if he signed with one of the majors hed get the bungalow and the credit but he wouldnt be making the show himself. So instead he went with Netflix and the Seven Network in Australia. I came back to Sydney to set up an animation company, which was its own epic journey. It was as hard, really, as securing the Beatles rights. Wakely is a restless spirit, though, and long before the first season was in the can he was onto the next thing. I kept saying to them, You know when I get the Beatles rights then Ill ask for Motown, because that will be electrifying for children. They just thought that was part of my stand-up act. And then Beat Bugs had success and I went back and reminded them. [embedded content] He landed the Dylan catalogue too he even spent a couple of hours in the presence of the great man, an experience he describes as sacred and Universal has given him access to its entire repertoire as he looks for ways to tell stories about the songs, or the stories behind the songs. Because that, really, is his thing. For now at least. When he got the go-ahead to do Beat Bugs, he says, Id never directed a frame of animation and Id only written one childrens script. But I get how music works with storytelling and I took a lot of confidence out of that. Now his slate also includes projects with Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam, and a project called 27, based on the mythical age at which so many rock stars have died. What if one of them survived, and you get this alternative history, he says. You can watch it linear or you can watch it interactive.

The dining room in this converted warehouse is buzzing.Credit:Louise Kennerley Despite his success with Beat Bugs and Motown Magic, Wakelys main interest is in adult-oriented drama and comedy. He wants his company, Grace, to develop into a fully fledged production house, ideally based in Australia. The creative talent is here, he says. Its just a question of whether the resources and infrastructure are here and if youd get the blessing [from the studios in LA] to do it here. Theres no knowing how much of this he will be able to bring to fruition, of course. But on the evidence to date, youd be mad to rule out the possibility that he might just pull it off. At any rate, all he can do is ask for the chance to try. The odd power I take into those rooms is a sense that I shouldnt be there anyway, the kid from Newcastle says. So what have I got to lose? Follow the author on Facebook at karlquinnjournalist and on twitter @karlkwin Karl is a senior entertainment writer at The Age and The Sydney Morning Herald. Most Viewed in Entertainment Loading https://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/tv-and-radio/how-josh-wakely-landed-the-beatles-dylan-motown-and-more-20190408-p51c3z.html?ref=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_source=rss_feed

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pillarsofdamnation · 7 years

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Otayuri Fic Rec List

I came for the Victuuri, but several of my favorites had a side pairing I wasn’t expecting to enjoy so much: Otabek Altin and Yuri Plisetsky. I’ve seen some of the wank on the otayuri tag, so if you don’t like, don’t read.

I love long fics (>10,000 word count) and have this insane need to keep track of the ones I really enjoy. Here are both competed works and WIPs that I am following they are all complete now.

UPDATED: January 27, 2018 (Based on fics I was reading in May 2017)

Guys, there are 16 fics here. I now have another 30 to add, but this post is getting too long. I will work on this in the weeks to come!

For this list “canon” are typically set post S1, “au” is a completely different universe and "au - canon divergent” is an au where one or both are still competitive figure skaters.

I. Completed works

A cat in a corner by AphroditeB00w [E, 82,800 word count, complete although not marked done yet)]

(au, mafia, violence, slow burn, assassin/enforcer!Yuri, Part 2 of Shadow People) "You don't own me." Yuri spat at the stone-faced man across from him. "No," Altin agreed mildly, adjusting the cuff of his suit. "But you are owned."Yuri Plisetsky is a reluctant underling in Yaakov's organization in mother Russia. But everything starts shifting and stirring up when he starts working with Otabek Altin, the informant for the criminal gods. His once slumbering sexuality is shocked awake, and the careful facade covering his hate for Yaakov is cracked when he learns that Viktor is not dead after all.

A Heart Beats At Night by magicalyoyo [T, 154,000 word count]

(au, vampire!Yuri, werewolf!Otabek, elements of canon, angst, Victor/Yuuri side pairing) A lone figure ran along the sidewalk. Otabek would have mistaken him for a motivated jogger, if not for the sinewy, fluid movements and familiar figure. He jerked his bike over, skidding to a halt in front of the runner.

Otabek’s heart was pounding a sickening, dizzying rhythm, but he schooled his face into stoicism as he pulled his helmet off to get a better look.

“Yuri Plisetsky died two years ago,” he growled. “What the hell are you?”

a silver splendour, a flame by thehandsingsweapon [M, 113,200 word count]*** Main pairing Yuuri/Viktor with Otabek/Yuri is a significant side pairing

(au, angst, mcd (with qualifiers), fantasy, slow burn, magic) Fantasy AU. When a magic user’s craft fully matures it manifests in the form of a spirit guardian. Mages and elves bearing these familiars spend a year presenting them to each of the high courts throughout the year’s festivals. Both Viktor and Yuuri have their reasons for hiding the full extent of their gifts – Viktor’s been hurt before, when his own powers were used against him; Yuuri’s been warned that everyone will want his; what will happen when Yuri comes of age, and in doing so, makes two very bright stars finally cross?

A Stiller Doom by Tessa on Ice [E, 68,400 word count]***

(abo, angst, social justice, violence, abo, au-canon divergent) “It is in vain ot say human beings out to be satisfied with traquility: they must have aciton and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth.” - Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre. NOTE: fic is currently unavailable due to an AO3 issue, but will hopefully be back. Really enjoyed this one. A lot of political drama.

Adventures in Personal Growth (verse) by stutter [E, 23,700 word count for series)

(canon, pining, dom/sub elements, rough sex, read the tags) "When Victor was his age - younger, even, Yuri thinks, shame blooming in his chest - he’d made the whole world fall in love with him already. The long hair, the soft smile, the way he moved like he had a secret in his skin and he couldn't wait to share it with you. Yuri’s watched the tapes over and over. He could skate any of Victor’s early routines in his sleep. But he can't - the thing Victor could do so easily, the casual, guileless charisma he threw like a shadow - Yuri can't manage it on a single person, not even some moody Kazakh with a dumb haircut whose eyes are too far apart anyway - "(In Park Guell, Yuri takes a hard fall. Otabek picks him up.)

All the Right Notes by pastelplisetsky [T, 42,800 word count]

(au, music, slow burn, fluff) Yuri Plisetsky is an incredibly gifted piano player, known for his passionate and somewhat violent playing/compositions. But in order to compete in the famous Eurasia United competition (completely fictional), he needs a violin accompanist. Although he’s dreamed about this competition for years, he’s always worked better alone. Until a little-known, solemn, lovely violinist walks into his life. Inspired by Yuri’s Allegro Appassionato in B Minor, his free skate song.

the birth of comets takes place on the tip of your lashes by apollothyme [T, 16,600 word count]***

(au - canon divergent, angst, hurt comfort, blindness, friends to lovers) His second visit to an ophthalmologist occurs five months later. Just like during his first consultation, he doesn’t understand any of the medical jargon coming from the doctor’s mouth. Only now, after he’s done explaining everything in complicated, convulsed words, the man turns to Yuri with a smile on his face and explains everything once more, this time using terms Yuri can understand. Yuri listens. He bites down on his bottom lip and he does not cry.

Endurance and Peach Tea by chapstickaddict [T, 11,500 word count]

(canon, pining, slow burn, fluffy fluff) Yuri hummed. His body didn’t uncurl, but instead of pressing his face into the fold of his legs, he rested it on his crossed forearms. Tilting his face towards Otabek, he looked for the bronze metal. The colorful ribbon snuck into the folds of his jacket, hiding his prize from view. Yuri reached out, and Otabek let him pull the ribbon to bring the metal into the light.It was beautiful. Heavy and ornate, with the front masterfully detailed. The perfect symbol of success. Yuri flipped it over, admiring Otabek’s name carved along the back. Wait.“Did they spell your name wrong?” he demanded, straightening. Otabek made a noise beside him.

It takes three years for Yuri to figure himself out and get his head on right. He drags everyone along for the ride. Otabek is the only one to go willingly.

From Almaty, With Love by BoxWineConfessions [E, 115,900 word count]

(canon, pining, slow build, slice of life, part 1 of series) It’s quiet here. Even if the car alarm on the neighbor’s goddamn BMW has been going off for the past twenty minutes. Quiet, even though the alarm’s got the neighbor’s dog howling like crazy, and the neighbor works second shift and isn’t there to comfort the dumb dog. It’s quiet…They haven’t spoken to each other since that morning, when Yuri went off to go see his tutor, and Otabek went off to do whatever the hell it was he did in the mornings before he hit the rink. “You’re used to the noise?”“Yeah, but…I think I like the quiet too.” Or: Yuri spends the summer with Otabek in Almaty.

Half a Chance by ratherunneccessary [M, 55,900 word count]

(canon, angst, fluff, slow burn) Yuri has never cared about anything as much as he cares about skating. Until, one day, that changes. Or, Viktor falls in love with Yuuri, Yuuri falls in love with Viktor, Yuri falls in love with Yuuri, Otabek falls in love with Yuri, and somehow everything turns out okay.

I Will Not Break by kanekki [E, 39,000 word count] series Accuse Me Thus [E, 121,400 word count in 3 part series]

(canon, divergent after S1, DARK, rape/noncon, depression, anxiety, references self harm, references suicide, child abuse, part 1 of a series) Yuri has been supporting his family with his skating since he was a teenager, but now they are barely making it. How long will he be able to hold it together before everything falls apart? Series summary: After his gold medal win at the Grand Prix Finals, Yuri Plisetsky’s life completely falls apart. With the help of his boyfriend and skating friends, Yuri tries to pull himself back together.

in flesh and bone by csoru [M, 32,100 word count]

(canon, angst, long distance relationship, pining, hurt comfort) After recovering from an injury that cut his previous season short, Yuri makes a comeback with a new coach, a new country of residence, and a relationship upgrade. Still: perfection takes effort.

In spite of the world by Stone_Heart [E, 100,100 word count]

(au, fairy!Yuri, soldier!Otabek, domestic, hurt/comfort, war, slow burn, bonded) There was a shuffling from above him, loud banging noises as it came closer. Otabek braced himself. This person helped him. But… A pale face peered over the stairs, looking at him. He blinked back. Those eyes… bright green and ferocious. Those eyes were what he looked for on a battlefield. Not the scared eyes of a peasant or the pudgy eyes of a spoiled king. No, those were the eyes of a soldier.

Neon Pink Motorcycle by goldheart [M, 74,700 word count]

(au - canon divergent, angst, soulmate/soulmark, pining, slow burn, past child abuse) There are certain moments in Yuri Plisetsky’s life that he likes to forget happened at all. The time they were chased from the apartment, the landlord angrily spitting and waving threateningly at them when his mother couldn’t produce enough money for rent. Babushka’s funeral. The first time he fell in competition.He cannot forget that, under the black band he wears around his wrist like a shield, his soulmark may as well be nonexistent.

You’ll Live Without It by HyperionHero [E, 24,400 word count]

(canon, angst, fluff, pining) "Yuri smirks, thumbing the material of Otabek's hoodie underneath his team Russia jacket. When he catches himself smiling he blushes and pulls his hand back to his phone. It's fine, he tells himself. Friends totally wear each other's clothes..."Yuri Plisetsky is surrounded by love. It's like a sickness, claiming his friends, his rivals, the attention of everyone he knows. He avoids it at all costs... but what Yuri doesn't know is that love has a knack of sneaking up on people. Sometimes it brews for years, right under your nose, and you don't notice it until it's staring you in the face - taking the form of a stoic Kazakhstani man bound in leather.

Unsteady by otayui_oh_nice [E, 140,000 word count]***

(au, rockstar!Yuri, DJ!Otabek, abusive family, mostly fluff with some angst, Slow burn, tattoos) Otabek was going to kill JJ. He was going to take the next flight to Canada, hunt him down and kick his ass. Leo: I tried to stop him but he went and did it anyway, I’m sorry! (link)- Or: JJ uploads one of Otabek's remixes of Yuri's songs to YouTube and Otabek freaks out.- Or: what happens when you take episode 1, replace figure skaters with musicians and exchange Victuuri for Otayuri. Aka another strange AU no one asked for.

#yoi #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #otayuri #fic rec #long fics #complete and wips

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zaxal · 7 years

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ok so to sum up the red city dipshits so far:

we’re all broke af and show up looking for a job bc of some money

big ol man named wolf introduces us to tevye, a sweet gentleboy who is gonna give us money but we have to work together

giulia (meaghan) rolls seduction, fails. he’s either oblivious or mildly uncomfortable. this is our diplomat, a minor southern noblewoman whose funds are not what they used to be.

we have two mediums, ziyad (chris) and arina (anna) who are on opposite ends of the ghostfucking spectrum. ziyad is very pro ghostfuck. arina fuckin hates all these dead things and wants them to Die Again But Like More Permanently

we have an assassin, zhatka (petra), who is the oldest among us and now babysitting all these fucking children (giulia’s in her 30s and the rest of us in our 20s except arina who is a Baby)

and we have USELESS FUCKING MAGICIAN SUAH RHA (me)

we are sent to find an old map of the catacombs beneath the city being held by haeckle hock (or, as he’s more commonly known, jarl hropken)

hock worked for tevye then absconded with the map for reasons unknown to players. this is our initiation job to make sure that we won’t die and also that we will actually come back once we do what we’re told

we track him down to the daisy district which is now full of dead people and we start harassing them. we are looking for a fence named butter with whom hock is known to work

everyone has varying amounts of success. zhatka stabs a dead lady for not knowing who or where butter is. giulia can’t get a dead person to snitch bc dat luck roll. suah finds a nice man and they talk and she thanks him for his time.

then suah has A PLAN

giulia has something valuable (pocket watch), so suah is gonna pretend to have stolen it, roll up with half the crew (leaving arina and giulia outside), ascertain butter’s identity, then find out where the FUCK hock is.

suah then rolls the worst performance check i’ve ever seen in my life.

butter is Not Impressed, he’s not gonna move these stolen goods, fuck you

zhatka shows off her badge from the assassin’s guild and this dude wants NO TROUBLE FROM THEM so he lets us wait for hock to come pick up his illicit SIX BARRELS OF FUCKENING GUNPOWDER

zhatka takes a nap and most of the rest of the crew plays cards as a Team Building Exercise(tm)

giulia cheats

no one catches her

giulia wins

the door busts open and there’s a handsome man with long flowing golden hair and a fucking gun pointed at us

his name is haeckle hock, and he’s gonna blow us all to kingdom come if we don’t tell him why we’re here, what we want with him, and how we’re going to get out of his way.

we have a reasonable conversation with him that goes fairly nowhere because he has a gun and seems fairly certain that he’s going to use it.

giulia tries to seduce him, gods of the wheels bless her, but he’s not that interested

a few of us make perception checks to see if this guy is really the type of guy who would kill himself JUST to kill us

i believe it was giulia’s roll that discovered that no, no he is not.

we didn’t actually rp this out but i’m imagining giulia had a Look of doubt that she either shared with the group or something

so suah, who keeps some of her magician shit at hand at all times, lights some ghost powder on fire discreetly and blinds him with Dazzle

so he’s blinded temporarily

he fires his gun off by mistake

he fucking hits arina

WE DISCOVER THAT ARINA HAS 80 MILLION HIT POINTS HOLY SHIT

also we have no healer. none. none healer. and arina is the only person (at the time) with points in Mend aka our heal skill. arina tries to patch herself up.

giulia takes his gun. suah frisks him and finds the map that tevye sent them to look for. ziyad takes a nice leather wristband that increases his dex stat.

we mock him for being a fucking idiot for a good 10-20 minutes and zhatka finally wakes up from her nap

we have a nice old-fashioned argument about the BOMBS hock has set up in the catacombs to “kill the ghosts” ????

ok the actual plan is to explode the corpses in the catacombs/crypts so that the ghosts don’t have anywhere to go and will presumably fuck off

several problems with this: the ghosts have been known to kill people for their bodies, the city is literally built on the catacombs so it might fucking collapse and kill all of us if this plan succeeds, the ghosts are just gonna go somewhere else even if they leave vanyiv

zhatka ties him up, and we go outside

butter isn’t around anymore

but there are three other people, with a cart with which to carry the barrels, strapped to a mule.

ROLL FOR INITIATIVE

we get into a rowdy tussle that involves some swords, giulia missing with hock’s pistol, SUAH NOT BEING ABLE TO FUCKING HIT ANYTHING WITH A SWORD and the guy who attacks her not being able to hurt her so they’re just fucking locked in this prison of incompetence.

arina gets out her walking stick and successfully! hits a man!

for -1 damage

SHE HEALED HIM. HE GOT BETTER BC SHE HIT HIM.

(how this happened: weapon was 1d4+strength mod. arina’s strength mod is -3. she rolled a 2-3 for -1.)

ziyad confuses one of the guys to try and make him hit his teammates, but he stays out of the rough and tumble

then giulia

with a fucking 22 (i think. it may have been higher.)

rips off her shirt to show off her perfect titties

everyone we’re fighting, and arina, drop their weapons

zhatka kills the woman she’s been tussling with

suah, in a fit of rage from not being able to hurt the man who came at her first, continues to roll to stab him.

i rolled literally 6 times in a row but one finally landed.

we’re back in combat.

ziyad confuses the other boy and lounges back bc everyone else has this already

arina tends her bullet wound

zhatka and suah clean up and kill the last two guys

haeckle hock has, in this time, slipped his ropes and fucking RUN OFF.

we don’t FUCKING think so

arina is on autopilot now bc SOMEONE is at anime boston

ziyad channels his sight through the bracelet he took from him; he’s down in the catacombs

we take off, suah leading the pack because zhatka is carrying ziyad while he channels, and there’s a bit of a pileup at the door as zhatka and giulia fall.

suah runs into guards downstairs

she fucking sprints past them

2 of the 3 guards follow her

with her best performance check to date, she uses Spotlight to convince them that there’s something running down the other fork in the road from the one she’s going; and then it’s dark and she has to slow considerably to feel her way around the walls

giulia, ziyad, and zhatka get into a fight with the last guard only for ziyad to cast Calm on him and they catch up to suah

ziyad has the lamp so we can actually see

the building hock went into has trip wires set up, so zhatka disables those

there are the sounds of an argument inside, and suah sneaks in

there’s a 70 y/o man (otto), a middle-aged woman (marion), and a 12 y/o boy (BLADE)

marion and blade are arguing about hock

suah makes another performance check to take marion’s side of the argument as if she’s been there the entire time

OTTO IS THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICES THAT SHE’S NEW AND HE DOESN’T SAY SHIT

i LOVE otto

suah says her name is giulia

they can’t put a curse on you if they don’t know your real name

giulia is standing in the fucking doorway to this room just Staring at suah

here’s where a problem comes in

suah’s supposed to be charismatic

I AM SOCIAL ANXIETY MAN 1989

so every question otto asks, i have to like. think really hard about before i answer which slows us down considerably and feels really awkward and it was a bad time

i made An Mistake that there’s no coming back from bc i love my horrible daughter

eventually otto gets suah to tell the truth (some of it) about the bombs, their intentions, what they want with haeckle, who she is, what her friends are doing here

FRIENDS?!?!?!?!

blade runs over and threatens giulia with a knife

she politely asks him to stop doing that and he does

haeckle’s not here. we advise the hobos to move out in case we’re unsuccessful and leave with more information than when we came in

we follow ziyad as he channels him again, find a bomb, don’t know what the FUCK to do with this, and eventually cross paths with hock again.

suah, giulia, and hock tie in the run fight

suah and hock tie in the luck fight to see who wins the run fight

giulia OBLITERATES THEM BOTH and comes screaming out of the fucking darkness, tackles him to the ground, and sits on him until zhatka can knock him out

BLADE COMES OUT OF NOWHERE SCREAMING WITH HIS KNIFE

ziyad casts Calm on him

we tell him to go back to his friends and that we’re gonna make sure haeckle doesn’t hurt anyone : ) but we’re gonna take care of the ghosts too, you’ll see!

we take hock back to tevye who was worried SICK about us, get ye money, lie about our involvement in the deaths over in the other district, determine that tevye’s not living anymore and is a ghost puppeting the dead body of a reclusive noble but his manservant is very much alive and very protective

wolf throws haeckle into the vault, and we establish a trust bond with tevye (or, well, giulia and suah do)

we tell him about the bombs and hock’s plan and tevye is like YOU GOTTA GO AND FIX THAT IMMEDIATELY PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU

however some damage was done and we got #paid so we went to the market first to buy better shit before we go back down into the catacombs

i feel like i’m not doing anyone’s character but mine justice bc i promise you suah is not the star of the story, i’m just thinking about her a lot and why she is the way she is, and i know that’s not fair so PLEASE if someone wants to talk about their children, do it, i’m begging you. i love them all but it’s 3:30 am and i’m forgetful even when it’s not.

i’m just trying to get all of this down while it’s fresh in my head bc, again, someone is at anime boston.

#red city dipshits

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livingwithashipname-blog · 7 years

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Ermanda's Inner Sanctum: Scorpion 3.17 "Dirty Seeds, Done Dirt Cheap"

This is a really great episode! It is all about the cyclone. Ray comes back to troll Cabe in his hallucination. Happy keeps breaking our hearts. Toby kills us with his fluffy, romantic self. Young Happy and Toby will be with us forever! Ralph is a darling! Walter and Paige amuse me to no end. Callie makes me smile! And Sly makes me wish I lived in West Altadenia so I could vote for him. He throws down the gauntlet and I am so proud him! As great as the episode is, it is a victim of “too many elements” and some great dialogue is cut that would have melted us even more if we weren’t at that point already! There are so many things to discuss! It all centers around the episode’s core message on the relationship between logic and fear. Let’s get to it!

Waige: Toby and Ralph

The episode’s theme is first explained through Ralph’s conversation to Toby about Walter and his mother in the midst of his history lesson. Ralph sounds like hallucinatory Walter from 3.03 It Isn’t the Fall that Kills You. He knows the logical plan is for Walter to ask Paige out, but that didn’t happen. He hopes that Walter’s ability to use logic to beat a fear of snakes can extend to his fear to romantically pursue Paige. Toby explains that this is a possibility, but concludes that Walter and Paige are likely going to remain friends. I suspect Toby comes to this conclusion given everything that has happened between Walter and Paige since she started dating Tim. Walter would need a bold, respectable move to change the course of events. Even Veronica, with her wacky plan, tells Walter that he has to think of something because Tim is “planting roots.” Toby is doubtful that Walter is capable of working past that fear and coming out successful. The last time Walter tried he hurt Paige in the process. Toby is also aware that this is in addition to a series of opportunities that we’ve seen as the audience since season 1. So his statements to Ralph are likely said to protect him. This is unfortunate but understandable.

So Ralph seems to be the only person actively captaining the Waige ship right now because they feel like Toby or are busy invested in their personal relationships. Let’s all give a collective “Aw!” On another note, I am laughing out loud at the visual in my head thinking about this because I am a Deadliest Catch fan. I have this vision of Ralph driving one of those crab boats, named Waige, in inclement weather! 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Paige’s Internal Conflict

The secret is out! Walter is on an apology tour. The team is all like, “say what now?” Kudos are given to Paige for getting Walter to do something that, in Happy’s words, is a sign of the apocalypse. Lol! This is good news since Walter and Paige have renewed their friendship. They are spending time together like they have in the past. And it seems as if this has inspired Walter to jump onto an accelerated path to improvement.

Paige is in mother mode when it comes to the froyo. No desserts before lunch children! 😂😂😂😂 As she places the items in the fridge, Toby approaches, or shall I say scares her, to commend her on the adjustments she has made with Walter. But before he speaks, she assumes that Toby is coming to tell her something about Walter and her spending more time together. She is mildly surprised when he doesn’t say that. Yet, we all can see that Toby is also trying to butter her up to get his froyo! 😂😂😂😂

This exchange with Toby is another depiction of Paige’s hesitations that started in season 2 but are more apparent in season 3. The most notable examples are 3.01 Civil War with Tim, 3.05 Plight at the Museum with Toby, 3.14 The Hole Truth with her mother, Veronica Dineen, and this episode with her own mind’s manifestations. These moments highlight the episode’s theme, but the main component of that message is choice. Walter has his emotional struggles, but some of his difficulties this season stem from his choice to ignore that which he already knows (e.g., episode 3.14). Paige’s hesitations expose an internal conflict with her own choices.

I think it is interesting that Paige’s short hallucination is an image of Walter with another woman. Isn’t this the first reason why she starts a relationship with Tim?! Allow me to recall events that lead into the Walter/Linda and Paige/Tim rooftop scenes of 2.22 Hard Knox. Walter takes Paige’s advice to put himself out there and make new friends. This manifests into speed dating as a social experiment and eventually dating Linda. Paige doesn’t anticipate that Walter would take her advice in this manner. Tim comes as a Homeland trainee assigned to Scorpion detail. Paige spends time with him, but their relationship does not become official until that moment on the roof. Walter breaks up with Linda after Toby reveals to him that her infatuation with him is a result of “damsel-in-distress syndrome.” At the same time, Tim asks Paige out on an official date. Before Paige answers, she looks at Walter and sees him sharing a laugh with Linda, which doesn’t look like a amicable breakup to her even though the audience knows otherwise. The disappointment is shown in her facial expression. She turns to Tim and accepts his request. This link is about to come full circle. If you have been following my reviews, then you are aware of the pattern that is unfolding. If this episode on its own doesn’t give you a big hint about what is next for Waige, you must be sleeping! THE WAIGE FLIP IS ON FIRE!!! 🔥🔥🔥 THESE ASSOCIATIONS GIVE ME LIFE! 🙌🏾🙌🏾 WAIGE IS ENDGAME YO! 💙💙💙💙

Immediately thought of this song! I think it is fitting! 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Logic vs. Fear feat. The Cyclone

Cabe/Callie

Cabe: I don’t want to play this game. Ray: Well, nobody does, but we all have to play it eventually, even badass, ex-football-playing Marines.

Cabe enjoys Allie’s company. Their relationship is getting off to a great start, but he still feels uneasy about their age difference. In addition, he really feels his age when he considers that he uses reading glasses. He’s so insecure about these things that they mostly have dinner dates at places that match her vegan interests, Cabe supplements the loss of meat with beef jerky, and he accidentally orders unfavorable meals because he can not read the menu without his glasses. (Side note: I am glad that Allie’s veganism is pushing Cabe to eat better because he was inching himself close to an MI with those meat-filled sandwiches he would make for Happy. Lol!) So it is no surprise that his hallucination is a short version of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. 😂😂😂😂 He fears that his age will make him unwanted because he can’t keep up with the younger generation. He is already a father figure to the team and multiple times the team has reminded him of his age when he drops pre-1980s pop culture references. He has already felt the pressures of his age with Tim as a younger version of him and Walter’s speech in 3.12 Ice Ca-Cabes on how everyone is replaceable.

During his hallucination, Walter manages to get his attention by reminding him that his fear is not aging. He fears weakness. His age gives him a unique advantage and his headstrong personality pushes him to do anything he desires! In result, Cabe mobilizes himself, drops the white hair and the age spots, puts on his signature glasses and flips the breaker! The glasses bit is GOLD!!! Reminds me of Horatio Cane from CSI: Miami and his sunglasses.

His path to enlightenment doesn’t stop in the vault. When he sees Allie again at Sly’s debate, he asks her to accept him as he is. Allie confirms that she is all in. What a great win for Cabe!

Sylvester & the W. Altadenia Alderman Election

Patel: The matter at hand is taking private property to help, not the populace, but a big box store. The kind of store grown-ups go to. Sly: Yes. I patronize the Warlock’s Chest. I had a tough childhood, I was picked on. Make-believe was my refuge. I found solace amongst the fantasy and I would gather up my courage to face another day. And trust me, when I was a kid, I needed courage just to show up at school. And I need it now for my job. But the difference is, with Scorpion, I have a team to help me remember that I can be brave. And if the Warlock’s Chest will provide refuge for more kids who don’t know they’re brave yet, well… I want it to stick around.

Sylvester is really coming into his own as a politician looking to achieve the greater good for his county. The chickens in his hallucination are both literal and metaphorical representations of a childhood memory. Sly is a world class ornithologist, but he is terrified of birds (mentioned in 2.24 Toby or Not Toby). This is why he asks Cabe to handle to falcon during the mission in 3.05 Plight at the Museum. Sly is also a germaphobe and chickens have been known to spread disease. Furthermore, the label “chicken” is thrown at those who fear confrontation. Sly was bullied as a child and relives the fear of that moment when Bucky Hanson and other jocks locked him in a chicken pen. But Sly is a man of facts. Facts are his life! When Paige reminds him of all the brave things he has accomplished with Team Scorpion, he comes out of hiding, moves his bully to the side, and moves a chicken out of the way to pull the lever. Go Sly go!!! The way he screams from the time he lifts the chicken to when he drops it is HILARIOUS!!! At the debate, he applies the same lesson and creams Patel! Sly is getting more people on his side each time he shows his courage. His courage is giving him a voice and I love that we are seeing this unfold in Sly’s story this season!

Walter & the Emotional Conundrum

Walter: I don’t know how to talk someone out of being scared. I can’t relate to that kind of emotion. Paige: Really? 'Cause you seem pretty scared now. Your biggest fear isn’t snakes, was it? It’s problems you can’t solve. Now do what you did with the yogurt guy, and put yourself in Cabe’s shoes.

This episodes features another moment where Walter uses what he knows in order to find a way to relate to emotions. He just needs a push. Holy character development! As I have said in past reviews, he has the tools. He just needs to unlock them when the time comes. Therefore, it is possible that Walter can independently do this in some instances, gaining more experience each time he does it. This links to what he says to Cabe about his age giving him knowledge, wisdom, and experience. In that moment, he uses the feeling of powerless in encountering problems he can not solve with Cabe’s fear of weakness. He has done the same in previous episodes (e.g., episode 3.14).

His doubt in this moment also parallels Happy and her judgment of her own emotional capabilities and expectations. One can say that this extends to Sly and Cabe too (when they’re not hallucinating), but here’s the difference. When Cabe and Sly finally do something they thought they couldn’t, they do not doubt it later. They recognize the change and use it to their benefit. For example, Sly jumps off a boat in 1.16 Love Boat, which is something he never anticipated doing in his lifetime. He was fearful, but he mobilizes himself and succeeds. He does this again in 3.04 Little Boy Lost when he climbs over the silo’s railing to jump on canisters to pull Walter and Daniel to safety. In the second scenario, Sly doesn’t say that he can’t do it. He just whines a little about it and puts himself into action to save the day.

Walter and Happy’s doubt have caused them to question pivotal moments in their lives. This has affected their romances. Walter walks away from the Tahoe situation, but Cabe gives him hope that self-improvement will give him a fighting chance if the opportunity to win Paige arises again. He has struggled in this endeavor, but he is now gaining new ground. For Happy, doubt is evident in her hallucination, which continues off of her development arc from 3.15 Sharknerdo and 3.16 Keep It in Check, Mate.

Happy & the Abandonment Saga

Dr. Curtis: I’m not sure about this. You know, if I commit to her, I’m stuck with her for the rest of my life? There’s got to be something wrong with her if she’s here, right? Hallucinatory Happy: I try hard. I’m just a little bit different from the other kids. Dr. C: Well, I’m not so sure this will be the right fit. HH: No, you promised to be with me for life. You proposed to me. Dr. C: Quick to anger. Volatile. I think I’d regret this decision. Sorry, I… I don’t want her. Not for me. […] HH: But I’m perfect for you.

This version of Toby is rigid and noncommittal. Happy is envisioning Toby as a man who uses psychological logic to reject her for her differences. THIS IS THE ANTITHESIS OF THEIR ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP!!! Happy has experienced a lot of rejection. Her father’s recent imprisonment feels like another wave of abandonment. Yet, she finds happiness in her relationship with Toby. When he accidentally flakes on a promise, Toby asks for second chance. Happy gives it to him even though it took some time. He consistently loves her despite her faults. Happy notices that Toby is a chance at family and marrying him represents stability which he has never experienced with others. She may be the world’s unfunniest person, but she makes Toby want to be a better man. And she acknowledges that they are perfect for one another! In essence, her doubts are like pre-wedding jitters that are projected onto Toby in this hallucination. The realities of their relationship continue to manifest in Toby’s words to her through young Toby. In the end, her dreams match reality. Just… just call the morgue already! I AM DEAD OVER ALL THE FEELS!!! 💕💚💚😍😍😍💀

Dannii (aka. @tobiasmquinn) questioned Dr. Curtis’ outfit in Happy’s hallucination. I first get Dr. Rizzuto vibes from the wardrobe, but the mannerisms of these two men do not correlate. Dr. Rizzuto is witty and charismatic. So I think the wardrobe is fashioned after Sigmund Freud who has several images of himself holding a cigar. Plus, Toby dresses as a famous psychiatrist from the past each Halloween.

Drabbles…

Callie is killing me with their cuteness!

Can we take a moment to freak out over the open Quintis PDA in front of the team?! Happy has her legs crossed over Toby’s leg and Toby is resting his arm on them! 😍😍😍😍🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

Scorpion trivia: The words “not good” are said by Happy in every episode. Now Toby is the one to deliver it… love it!!! More Toby being Happy! 🙌🏾

Happy (to Cabe): You don’t need to warn me about getting lost in a blizzard. Been there, done that. 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Sly: Back away, hens. I will deep-fry the lot of you. 😂😂😂😂😂😂

I died with Ray’s appearance in Cabe’s hallucination! That was perfect!

Have you seen the titles on the game show wheel from Cabe’s hallucination?! They are hilarious! Kudos to the art department!

Young Toby/Toby: You know who I am, and my biggest regret in life is that we really didn’t meet when we were eight because I would’ve fallen in love with you from that moment. The truth is you’ve never been alone. My love for you has always been there. It just took a while for our paths to cross so I could share it with you. And under all those neurotoxins in your head, you know I’m right. You have nothing to be scared of, ever. 💚💚💚💚💚💚😍😍😍😍😍😍 *swoons forever*

The mother/son moments between Ralph and Paige in this episode are so sweet! I love them! 💜💜💜💜

Walter: You are a military man, a government agent, someone who is strong for their friends, but when you fear weakness, you feel that you’ll lose your identity because of it, and the people that you care about, like Allie. Is that right? Cabe? Cabe: God? Is that you? 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Walter: That’s because I’m worried about you, but I shouldn’t be because getting old is not a detriment. It is a strength. Now, with age, comes experience, knowledge, and wisdom. What you’ve forgotten, others will never know. Now what you’ve lived, others will only read about. What you can do, others can only dream about. Cabe Gallo is stopped by nothing. Me: I’m not crying, you are! 😭😭😭😭😭👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

Paige using her phone to grind the seeds… 😂😂😂 Total “make it work” moment! 👏🏾👏🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

That fire is really pretty! Excuse me, I was a chem major! Lol! But let’s clear up something here. Oxygen is not flammable! It’s not a fuel. Toby states this as a potential danger in the episode. The process that creates the fire is described correctly, but the designation is incorrect. It’s a misnomer. Probably done to save time considering that this moment is happening close to the 50 minute mark. Plus, it is easier to communicate the danger of adding oxygen to a flame by making such a statement to a general audience who may not know this. I know, I know… kinda weird for a show about geniuses, but everyone who watches this show isn’t.

My only disappointments: 1) We didn’t see Riley Go as Young Happy in the middle of Happy’s hallucination. 2) Funky age moment… if Happy is technically 29 going on 30 now, then she should be 12 going on 13 in the year 2000. However, she says she is 8 and Toby doesn’t make that adjustment because it’s not insinuated by his statement, “we just exited the 90s.” The year (1996) was right in the sides. Maybe this is done to save time or Toby made his statements to account for all the years Happy had been rejected for adoption. 3) I wish young Toby moved more in the scene to be a little more animated like adult Toby. 4) The line, “I know you’ll never let go,” was cut from the end scene. I thought it was perfect and I am disappointed it ended up on the cutting room floor. Maybe it was taken out because of time or because of what’s to come for Quintis in the season finale storyline.

Last edited: February 22, 2017

#ermanda's inner sanctum #cbs scorpion #s03e17 #dirty seeds done dirt cheap #scorpion cbs #team scorpion #episode review #livingwithashipname

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davidfostercomedyblog · 7 years

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Secret Shopper: The Only Time I Unknowingly Broke the Law

Before he was outed as a rapist Bill Cosby had a great bit about parenting (many actually) where he declared that if you only have one child then you can’t fully know the experience of being a parent… because you always know who to blame.

I’ve applied a loose parallel to job hunting: If you’ve never job hunted without a present job or savings and/or with someone else sheltering you, you cannot fully know the experience of job hunting. I myself was in that more fortunate, unknowing group for most of my life, until I moved to L.A. with no money or contacts, only hopes and dreams, figuring it was good that originality doesn’t much sell these days.

Real job hunting becomes a perpetually desperate state of panic, albeit within the pragmatic reality of “Groundhog Day:” Wake, eat, Craigslist, click, copy, paste, attach, send, repeat, repeat, repeat 50-100x over the course of 6-12 hours interrupted by naps and more food, exercise or masturbation or both, and occasionally either proactive motivation or cabin fever will be the impetus to a ride around town, just popping into places the old fashioned way: “Wanted to see if you guys might be hiring.”

I once walked in to every front desk in an office building on Hollywood Blvd., feeling like Will Smith in Pursuit of Happyness (sans the racial handicap and ultimate success), and one guy took me in for an interview on the spot. He was so excited and sweet in what I’d come to identify as a very L.A. kind of way. Unfortunately I didn’t get “the job.” To be honest I don’t know if there even were any jobs, or if so which I was applying for. I went home. More masturbation – I mean exercise.

One guy from a Craigslist link kept calling me back, Brian Cooper, and he couldn’t have sounded more like the character, “Douchebag” had he been reading for it in an audition up the block.

“Yeah man, yeah, David, right?! So sorry, bro’, sorry I haven’t gotten back to ya, it’s just been crazy here, absolutely crazy. I got a job for you though, dude, I definitely do. Easy money, not alotta work! Sound good?”

I said it sounded good, even though he didn’t. He was fake and flaky (can’t spell flaky without fake!) and nothing thus far had worked out, so why should I expect any different? Nevertheless, consistent with my equally pathetic online dating pursuits I followed up and returned Brian’s calls and eventually, also similar to dating pursuits, it sorta kinda briefly paid off.

Apparently Brian worked for big companies, the likes of Apple and Verizon, which at least explained the “easy money, not alotta work,” platitude. His department was customer service review, not something that I’d really ever heard of, but it sounded like a thing, plus what about any of corporate America had I ever heard of? I was desperate and broke – not “broke” like the people who can’t afford the vacation or car they want and have to be mindful about their budget and spending on eating out. Actually broke: There’s no money. Credit cards maxed out, parents have no money and I’m borrowing $50 or $100 from various friends to put together this month’s rent, shoplifting toothpaste and every meal is either homemade rice and avocado or taco truck food. Broke(n).

This experience is a small part of the reason why I’ve become more generous with the homeless. Whether conscious of it or not I think we’re all guilty of believing laziness or self-destruction are ingredients that lead most people to homelessness. Meanwhile at this stage in my life I had a B.A. and Master’s degree, had worked as hard as I possibly could every week of my life, appeared on HBO and Showtime as a comedian, won competitions in national festivals, and I had nothing. I digress.

The job title Brian offered was “Secret Shopper.”

“I’m gonna assign you to a team, you guys just drive around all day, scout different locations to make purchases, go in and review your experience with the staff. Sound easy enough? You’re a comedian, so I know you’re a good judge of character, right?”

“Haha, yeah, totally.”

I never understood this – even the positive stereotypes that get assigned to comics by the infinite ass hats trudging over our Godforsaken planet. Is a Master’s degree in Psychology suddenly prerequisite for a career in stand-up comedy? How do you know I’m a good judge of character? What if I’m the worst comedian in the world?

No matter. Beggars can’t be choosers, and I was the closest to being literally a beggar I’d ever been. The job was to meet up with Cici at the Starbucks in North Hollywood tomorrow morning, and basically follow her lead, driving around all day, assessing… customer service?

The whole thing was suspicious, and as I sat in front of the café, dutifully early, sipping my morning coffee, taking in the lovely L.A. morning that never got old, I grew “cautiously eager” (caffeinated) to see how this would play out.

Finally Cici called.

“David.”

“Hey, yeah. Is this Cici?”

“Oh hi, it’s Cici.”

Right. Anyway…

“Hey.”

“Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m sitting here in front having coffee. Are you--?”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Can you meet me in back, in the parking lot? The whole crew is there waiting already. I’ll be in a red Toyota, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

I made my way to the back parking lot and noticed a crew of young adults standing around who seemed to not be saying much to one another, thus were probably unfamiliar with one another, thus probably fellow beggars in a work crew.

“Hey. Are you guys waiting for Cici?”

“Yeah,” one of them barely offered, and I noticed they were uncharacteristically unfriendly for L.A. A young white heavy metal-looking guy and a pretty young black girl, and I immediately wondered if they were a couple, and should I be jealous of the guy? Finally was an enormous young black dude, and he was the only one who didn’t look downright miserable, instead wearing a confused, dumbfounded expression that I imagined mimicked my own. He was the only one who smiled when I shook his hand.

“How you doing, man? Charles.”

I immediately liked him. The others I did not.

“John (Preston).”

And: “Hi, I’m Rien.”

Ugh.

John took out a cigarette and Rien took out her phone and apparently we’d go on as strangers. It’s obviously a cliché, but I immediately felt empowered by being from New York, especially having run in mildly criminal circles as a teenager. The whole situation was suspect, and I figured the smart thing to do was gather information. Fortunately we live in a day and age where it’s considered socially acceptable, even expectable, to ignore all physically present beings in exchange for typing on our phones so I opened up my note app and began slyly recording whatever I could.

Rien drove a Prius, just like everyone else in L.A. who didn’t drive a Benz. License was Vermont (vomit): FTX504.

Cici finally arrived in a red Toyota Yaris, license: 7CDF875.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late, Jason (Cruz) kept me at the office to determine our plan for the day. We just had some delays.”

“Oh, no problem,” Rien’s tone had changed, perked up for Cici, and I wondered if it meant Cici was the boss or Rien was just especially turned off by me. I assumed a bit of both.

“Are you David?” Cici extended her hand and was at least a bit more pleasant.

“And Charles?”

They shook hands and I was ecstatic to not be the only new guy.

“You guys are gonna roll with me.”

Even more ecstatic. Let the love birds pout off in the Vermont-mobile while I get to roll with the homeys whose cheekbones and outer lips at least raise upward.

First stop was Ralph’s, some stupid L.A. supermarket chain, though I had no idea why we were there. Where were we going on this mission? Would there not be places to stop and eat? Was an earthquake in the forecast? Did we need supplies?

“Wait here,” Cici requested. “I’m just going to run in and get a drink real quick.”

“No problem,” Charles passively mumbled, but I said nothing, and if I’d been a cartoon my eyebrows would’ve been raising to inhuman heights, eyeballs popping out of their sockets with frazzle lines around my neck and shoulders.

We just came from a Starbucks. Now she realizes she wants a drink and feels she has to get it from a Goddamn Ralph’s. Ya suspect!

I decided it was past time that I ingratiate myself with my fellow inmate.

“So this is your first day doing this too?”

“First day, bro. I’m in it with you.”

“Right, right.” I paused, not wanting to let on my suspicion too quickly, because what if he’s lying too?

“You ever done this before though? Like for any other company?”

“What, like secret shopper job?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah. I heard of it though. Couple of my friends done it. Supposedly an easy way to make some extra cash, which I definitely need…”

I believed him. I couldn’t tell you why, except that I liked Charles and he just felt sincere. He was a tech guy by trade with a passion for comic books and other typical nerd things, and in spite of being from Compton everything about him fit the bill. He wore glasses and an unkempt afro and when I mentioned my Master’s in Chinese Medicine he told me about his hyper-reactive skin conditions. If he was in on it – that is, if there was an “it” in the first place, Charles’ performance was exceptional and he should have been at Central Casting, not working as a secret shopper or whatever the hell we were doing.

I paused again. I thought of my HBO appearance, and how I didn’t have any shows booked yet for the week. How did I get here?

I turned to Charles: “Don’t you think this is kind of weird though?”

“What?”

“This. I mean, I dunno. This whole thing. Why are we at a supermarket right now?”

“So she could get a drink.”

“Right, yeah.”

Longer pause. “You think this is legit though?”

“Yeah, man, secret shopper,” and he shrugged his shoulders so matter-of-factly that I was almost convinced. In any case it’s not like it’d be my first time breaking the law and I definitely didn’t feel in danger. I know we can’t assign any one individual as representation for an entire city, but I did think it was funny how the black guy (from Compton) was taking everything they said at face value and the white guy (from New York) was constantly peaking over his shoulder in criminal paranoia. Cici eventually returned from her suspiciously long drink purchase, which immediately changed the topic of conversation.

Cici was mildly attractive and had an accent, something Eastern European, and I at least appreciated how chatty she was. As a matter of fact everyone was, making for a pretty fun drive-around dynamic and for a brief moment I felt almost happy and optimistic, a passing feeling that would become eerily familiar for me out west. For the moment I sat back and enjoyed the ride.

We arrived at some Verizon store on Ventura Blvd. and Cici took out a piece of paper for me to review before going in. A customer survey without any real official-looking branding on it.

“These are the questions to keep in mind when you go in, okay?” she instructed.

“How quickly were you greeted by the Verizon professional?”

“Were all of your questions promptly and fully answered?”

“Was there anything about your experience today you would change in the future?”

It was as if they’d copied it out of every online survey I’d ever seen, but then again, so is every online survey I’ve ever seen.

“Take this credit card,” and Cici gave me what looked like a fake credit card, though I think it was just prepaid and/or some corporate thingamajig that impoverished luddites like myself know nothing about. Nevertheless, there was a fake name on it, which Cici quickly addressed.

“Do you think you can sign that name when they give you the receipt?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Okay, so as soon as we get the green light you’re gonna go in and buy the new iphone 5s, okay? All the features, take whatever they offer in extra data, applications, everything, okay? Because we need a full assessment. But you can’t let on that you work for Verizon. Just play it totally straight. If you get confused or you think they know you’re a secret shopper just leave the store and call me, got it?”

“Yup, no problem.”

It reminded me of my work as a hidden camera actor on MTV eight years prior, though that was a much better job, and you know… relatable to my passion. Nevertheless it was useful experience in deceitful teamwork, strategy and of course, acting, albeit in a different context.

I waited for the green light, went inside and told the customer service professional what I wanted. He was young and eager to help, eager to sell, even more so than his east coast counterparts, surely not as accustomed to as much attitude or rejection. I had no idea whether or not I was breaking the law, but my conscience was clear. I was a desperate man without a dollar to my name and as far as I knew just doing my job. What’s more, it felt nice to have money to spend, for the first time in my life to not feel like I had to duck and dodge every additional offer and feature, to not have to get the most affordable option and decline everything extra since I could barely even afford the basic device. Of course nothing about the phone was mine, but still, it made the shopping experience more pleasant to be able to appease the young lad surely working at least partially off commission. I followed all of Cici’s instructions, forged some asshole’s name and walked out of the store with some fully loaded adult toy that I couldn’t care less about, but made my “boss” very happy. 1 for 1!

“Okay, your turn, Charles.”

Cici got on her phone and laptop to report back to home base and prepare for the next secret shopper and my nerves calmed down much like they did in the wake of so many shoplifting successes in adolescence.

“How was it man?” Charles asked.

“Fine. I, uhh… I bought a phone.”

He laughed.

“Cool.”

“Okay,” Cici, chimed in. “I’m gonna give you a different credit card now, obviously (obviously), but you’re going to get the same thing, okay? Same exact thing. Because we want to see if your experience is any different, and honestly it helps that you’re African American.”

Ugh, these fucking Californians and their “African American.” Haha!

Charles and I laughed, and Cici scrambled to support her rationale.

“No, seriously though, it’s important for employee review. That’s why we paired the two of you together and Rien and John. We have to know if any of these assholes are racist of course.”

For a moment I was convinced. Maybe I wasn’t a part of some low frequency, slime bucket criminal enterprise and hadn’t just committed petit larceny. Maybe Cici and Brian and Charles and I really all worked for Verizon and we were doing the Lord’s work of seeing to it that one of the planet’s most powerful conglomerates could become more powerful via the fair and responsibly receptive treatment of its millions of inadvertently enslaved customers. Maybe. And maybe Rien and John weren’t a couple after all.

We waited for over an hour in the car to give Charles the green light, but I never got bored, also figured we were getting paid by the hour. The weather was great, car windows were open and I felt great. We talked about astrology and comedy and Chinese Medicine – okay, I guess I was steering most of the conversation, but Charles and Cici were eager participants and whenever they got distracted by the job or a call came in from headquarters I pounced with the corners of my eyes.

Cici would open her laptop to communicate over email with one person while she spoke on her headset with someone else. Her email was [email protected] and she wrote to Justin Stevensen, who was supposedly the man in charge. Finally Charles got the go ahead and headed into the store.

“Good luck, man!” Don’t get arrested, I exclaimed silently to myself.

There was more confusion with Charles’ mission than there was mine. He kept having to come out and get more information, and finally even needed a different credit card. Fuckin’ nerd, I thought.

After a bunch of confusion it worked out and Charles finally exited with another fully loaded, fancy new phone. He was sweating, wiping the beads from his brow as he collapsed back into the back seat, but I assumed this had as much to do with his weight problem as any nerves or apprehension. After all, Charles’ conscience was even cleaner than mine. “Secret shopper,” right?

Cici then burned rubber, screeching tires out of the parking lot and pulled out a loaded .45, emptying the clip through the sunroof into the air as we made off with our new devices. No, she didn’t. We quietly pulled back on to the road and headed for the next destination, Encino shopping mall.

Nothing happened at the mall. A lot of waiting and talking and walking around and checking in with Justin Stevensen, but no green lights and no more purchases for the day. Cici said she was happy with our performances – that we both proved worthy of, achem… “employment,” and asked if we were both free to work tomorrow.

“Sure,” both pathetic souls replied, and I was thrilled to be paired up with Charles.

“Since today was a trial I’m going to pay you in cash now, but tomorrow will count as the start of your employment, which means you’ll get a check in the mail next week, cool?”

Yes!

By the time we got back to Starbucks it was 8pm, a long day but so fucking easy. Cici handed me $120 cash and had me fill out a W2 in the car, and gradually I was becoming more convinced. I just wasn’t sure what was less conceivable – that such a job actually existed or that I could actually fall ass backwards into such a good situation. I decided it was too late to hit the comedy clubs and instead chose to head home and get a good night’s sleep for more secret shopping.

The next day brought more of the same, but this time we forewent Starbucks and just met at the first location, another Verizon store in Westwood, a wealthier, more bourgeouis part of town. This time Sir Charles would go first. He successfully bought another cell phone and I awaited my green light that never came. For some undisclosed reason we had to move on to another location.

We trekked all the way to some mall in Ventura and my mission was to purchase an ipad from the Apple store. The clerks, true to form, could not have possibly been more friendly and helpful, but we kept hitting a roadblock. It seemed that my credit card required some kind of passcode that neither I, nor Cici, nor Justin Stevensen upon follow-up communication, could provide. Twice I had to scramble back to the car and report what was going wrong and twice I returned to the Apple store for unsuccessful re-tries.

“No problem,” Cici sighed. “That’s not your fault,” she said, as if I needed to hear it.

I’ve been doing stand-up comedy for 13 years. If you think a purchase rejection at the Apple store rattles me you’re out of your fuckin’ mind.

I reclined back in my chair and spent the rest of the ride home inquiring to Charles about how to convert the format of some video footage I needed to edit. Charles seemed to know just about everything about technology, and I think we both looked forward to a mutually beneficial friendship, he for my tech issues, me for his dermatological ones. Cici seemed a bit stressed and I couldn’t have cared less. Still, when she dropped us off at our cars Cici was pleasant and appreciative.

“Brian’s gonna contact you either tomorrow or this weekend and let you know your days for next week, okay? And your check should go out tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Thanks Cici! Have a good weekend, y’all.”

They wished me the same, and I was off. I was happy, even optimistic. This job was weird, but seemed more legitimate and innocent with each day, and so perfectly fit my needs. Money, first of all, and a part time gig with free evenings to do my shows. At $120/day and my present rent I could work four or even three days a week and get by. I was grateful. And then, I never heard from them ever again.

I gave Brian a call over the weekend and got no answer. I followed up on Monday and got voicemail again. When the following Friday came and went with no check arriving I couldn’t have been less surprised. I realized of all people I’d forgotten to get Charles’ contact info and had no idea what his last name was to search Facebook.

While unemployed with no friends or girls, minimal stage time and no resources with which to enjoy life one has plenty of down time, which I’d intermittently use to call or email Brian or Cici. First my messages claimed to be just following up for my check, but after a while I began unapologetically saying I knew what they were up to, reciting their license plate numbers and email addresses. I should have reported them to the cops, but just didn’t have the energy, nor desire or time. I needed a job.

Several months later I missed a call from a strange number, checked the voicemail and it was Charles! I was so happy he’d kept my card, not as happy to hear the news.

“I got arrested.”

“What?!”

“I got arrested, bro’. That whole secret shopper thing turned out to be a scam (ya don’t say, Charles?), and I got bagged last month trying to buy a laptop in another Apple store. I had no idea what was going on and when I tried to tell them about Cici and them they just all played dumb, like they didn’t know me. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind testifying for me, you know? Or at least go on the record that I wasn’t in on it and my lawyer said I could plea, and hopefully it won’t have to go to court. They’ll just knock it down to shoplifting or whatever.”

“Of course, bro’, of course I’ll testify, and I actually have a lot of their information – license plate numbers, emails and stuff. I never trusted them.”

“I know, man, I should have listened to you. Is that why you quit?”

“Quit? I didn’t quit. After that second day we worked together I never heard from them again. I never got my check for that day and just never heard from anyone.”

“They told me you quit.”

“I bet they did. How much longer did you work for them for?”

“’Til now. Until just last week when I got arrested.”

“What?! You’ve been working for them this whole time?!”

“Yup.”

“Holy shit. You must have made some good money, huh?”

“Yeah, it was all right, man, but now I’m fucked up. Gotta give it all to my lawyers.”

“Right, right.”

I thought about the awful, abusive restaurant jobs I’d held during those six months and was overcome with jealousy. Then I thought about Charles being pulled away into custody by the police and pleading to the police in high-pitched panic: “Secret shopper, secret shopper!” and it took everything I had to not laugh.

“Yo, so it’s okay if I have my lawyer call you, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, man, keep me posted.”

“Okay, thanks so much. He’ll probably reach out to you tomorrow or the next day.”

“Alright. Take care, Charles.”

I hung up and couldn’t believe it. It all felt like a lifetime ago. I was on my third (and first decent) job since Secret Shopper. I was finally in a good place and felt bad for Charles. I wondered why they’d kept him and not me. Were they suspicious of my suspicion? Had Cici noticed the corners of my eyes? Had Rien noticed me stealing glances at her license plate, alternate with her cleavage? Would that matter? I looked forward to hearing back from Charles. My life was still so boring and shitty and I was excited for some excitement, also excited to partake in bringing those douche bags to justice, but I never heard from Charles again.

I think there are legitimate secret shopper jobs, but this apparently was not one of them, obviously just a strange crew of con-artists using that label as well as unsuspecting desperados as a front for their scams. I hope they get what’s coming to them. More importantly I hope Charles is okay… that is if he’s not one of them!

#secret shopper #secret shopper companies #apple #verizon #scam #con artist

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