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hurryupharry · 2 years

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age is just a number, until it isn't. there will be a part 2, promise!

pairing: harry x young(er) reader word count: 2,868 warnings: none :) age gap!

“I just have this one assignment to finish, it’ll be quick, I promise,” you reassured him, eyes locked on the screen (much to his dismay). His arms wrapped around your shoulders while he left a string of kisses on your left temple, you placed your hand over his as a silent gesture of appreciation. “Don’t you think if you left me be, I’d be done sooner?”

“M’ love, you look so stinking lovable - y’ have to understand that it’s hard for me to go,” he hums, words fanning against your collarbone like a gentle breeze as his head buried into the crook of your neck. He always made sure to tell you how adorable you looked as you churned out paper after paper, ugly glasses - you had two pairs, one exclusively for writing papers and feeling smart - with your second-day hair and all. Sometimes you weren’t even sure if he was telling the truth, but you were okay with that.

Harry loved watching you work, eyebrows furrowed when you were deep in concentration, usually wearing his sweaters so you could catch a whiff of his tobacco vanilla cologne that lingered on them whenever you sunk down into your chair or pulled the hood up. Especially since he never went to college, every aspect of it fascinated him. He always wanted to be there when you picked your modules, threw you small celebrations whenever you got an extra good grade on an assignment you worked really hard on, and loved when he got to pick you up from campus and play the part of your college sweetheart. “But I will, only because you said this one’s an important one. Don’t forget there’s Ben’s little mixer tonight and he really wants to meet you.. We’ve to get going at a little past seven.”

You nod, pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand before getting back to your task. To be honest, you’d almost completely forgotten about it with the looming deadlines you had clouding your thoughts for the past week. Ben was dear to Harry’s heart - everyone knew that, and it made you nervous just thinking about meeting him. The opportunity had presented itself multiple times over the course of the year that you and Harry have been together, but you’d always found some way to wriggle yourself out of the situation. The first time, it was a trip home that clashed. The second, you had a really important interview for an internship the next morning and couldn’t lose out on any sleep. Third time round was an after-party for one of the award shows Harry attended, but it was in a restaurant known to be a celebrity hotspot and cameramen were everywhere - you couldn’t show up and have rumours swirl. Tonight, however, Harry made the extra effort to run it by you weeks ago once the possibility of this event happening left Ben’s lips. It would be a small one held in his home, with a couple of trustworthy friends in the industry, just to come together and get to know each other a little better. You couldn’t say no.

You wished you’d said no. The moment Harry pulled into the driveway, you were already freaking out a little. “Please H, could we just– just sit in here for a moment, please,” you pleaded, eyes closing and palms pulling the skin on your face back towards your ears to regain some composure.

“Wha’s wrong, love? Everyone’s so excited to meet you, ‘got nothing to worry about, my love,” Harry’s voice soothing and consoling, unbuckling his seatbelt to inch as close to you as possible from his driver’s seat. “Hey, pretty girl… We don’t have to do it if it’s stressin’ you out this much.”

For a second, you considered cowering and taking the easy way out, allowing him to drive you back to his house and tuck you into bed before making his way back to Ben’s himself. You chose not to though. You’d overheard the phone call he had with Ben after you agreed to come along, practically beaming with excitement that he’d finally get to show you off to one of his best friends. He was even more excited for you to meet Ruby - though the two of them had their nightly phone call, you never intruded, just watched in awe as he spoke to her with a certain sparkle in his eyes and the widest grin on his face.

“I’m just nervous, babe,” you mumbled, taking in a deep breath to steady yourself. It was strange, having these fears when you slept in the same bed as one of the biggest pop stars in the world on most nights, and entrusted him with all your secrets. “I’m practically a little baby, I might as well be Ruby to most of them.”

He chuckles at your words, hands reaching over for yours. Your age never mattered to him. You made him feel young, beaming with energy and bound by no limits. He got to experience things he’d missed out on in his early twenties, quintessential coming-of-age experiences he never got to partake in with the same anonymity as any other London college student. He loved your crazy ideas, admired your lofty dreams and wished he had half as much of it as you did. Harry knew a great deal of his success came from luck - right place, right time - and he would do anything in his power to make your dreams come to life. “Don’t be silly, m’ love… You’re twenty-two, not a toddler. Just be yourself and speak to them like any other. I’ll be by your side too, I promise.”

You’d never felt so small in your life as you sat on a large couch in the living hall of Ben’s home, surrounded by A-listers, producers and directors you only saw on screen or in the end credits of movies. Harry had been whisked away right when you both arrived, with Ben needing to introduce him to a few producers who’d been keen on casting him in future roles. Hence, you were left to fend for yourself, armed only with a glass of red that you didn’t even like. From time to time, you were asked about what you did for work, to which you could only sheepishly reply that you were still pursuing a degree. In any other context, that would’ve been a perfectly respectable answer, yet saying it in front of some of the most talented people in the world made it seem like you had absolutely nothing going for you. Not to mention, their responses of “oh wow, that’s lovely” or “gosh, I could be your mother” only made you feel even worse, though you know they meant no harm. It was only halfway through the night when Harry finally returned with what he considered to be the most important task of the day - introducing you to Ruby, his god-daughter who was tucked away in her bedroom upstairs - that you could finally breathe easy.

You couldn’t be happier to meet the little girl who called every night. Most times, Harry placed the call on loud-speaker so you’d be able to listen in on their conversations, which were usually her recounting the exhausting day she had as a toddler. Suffice to say, she loved you. Though Harry’s intention was just to have you meet her and return downstairs, Ruby pleaded with him to have you stay with her till she fell asleep so you could be her real-life Barbie doll. You couldn’t turn her down, and soon enough she was braiding your hair and pretending to do your makeup on the carpeted floor. It was undoubtedly the best part of your night and just the reprieve you needed from having to shamefully admit your lowly status as a university student to the others downstairs, so you didn’t mind it one bit.

Ruby was practically falling asleep on your lap as the two of you sat on the tiny loveseat next to the entryway of her room. It was your turn to do her hair, at her request, and you cleverly suggested moving to the small seating area so she could lie down and fall asleep comfortably if she felt like it.

“I’m just saying it’s unrealistic, H,” you heard a hushed voice say from outside the room, a little muffled through the large oak door that separated Ruby’s room from the corridor. “You’re almost thirty and she’s just barely legal. Have you really thought about this?”

“Ben, I’ve s’ much respect for you but please, this is not y’ place to tell me how my relationship should be,” recognizing his voice anywhere, the same low drawl he used when he tried to speak softly to you in bed at night, you put the pieces together. He’d probably been on his way to fetch you from Ruby’s room and kiss her goodnight. “I love Y/N and it truly doesn’t matter t’ me… We get along like we’ve known each other for centuries. M’ not giving that up because people who don’t know us like that feel that it’s stupid.”

“H, I’m only saying this because I care for you and Y/N’s an incredibly lovely girl. Don’t get me wrong, we love her, but what’s going to happen when this goes public? She’s so young that all you’re going to hear is questions on your morality and that you’re toying with her. And thinking long term, like y’know, having kids of your own - that’s only going to happen when you’re almost forty. Have you truly thought about whether you want that?”

It’s silent in the corridor, and your hands have long stopped weaving through Ruby’s hair, entirely focused on their conversation. This was exactly what you’d feared this whole time, and having it come from Ben only intensified your anxiety as you sat there with glossed-over eyes.

“We’ll figure it out, Ben,” he finally breathes out, his hand reaching for the doorknob. “Could y’ please let me go in and say goodnight to your daughter now? Been waiting on me for ages.”

You immediately resumed your task, keeping your hands busy as your boyfriend entered the room, closing the door shut behind him. “She asleep? Have y’ been okay in here, love?”

“Yeah, she just fell asleep a little bit ago. D’ you want to tuck her in?” Raising your gaze to meet his, engrossed in studying the two of you with his palm resting against the wall behind the loveseat. You watched as he nodded his head before crouching down to lift the girl off your lap, whispering a small hello to her as he did so. The girl was so deep in sleep that she didn’t budge, eyes shut as he placed her on the princess-themed bed, slowly tucking her in with utmost care.

Under the dim lighting, you found yourself imagining Ruby to be your own little one, with Harry planting a delicate kiss on her forehead. Ben was right. Harry seemed so at ease doing this, you knew he’d be an incredible father. Yet, you were so far away from even thinking about having children that it seemed almost unfair to him - a man with the world in the palm of his hand, ready to move on to the next stage of his life stuck with a university girlfriend to look after. You never let yourself think that far ahead before this, but it was always in the back of your head that you and Harry ran on different timelines. Now, it began to worry you.

The light pitter-patter of the rain against the windscreen allowed the two of you to fall into a comfortable silence as Harry drove you both home to his London home. You were glad he hadn’t noticed you hadn’t stopped twiddling your thumbs the entire time, thinking about how to bring up his conversation with Ben earlier.

“Did you enjoy yourself, love? M’ sorry I was away for most of it. Were they kind to you?” He asks, gently placing his right palm on your left thigh, circling his thumb against your skin.

“It was alright… Mostly just got asked what I’m up to, which was a little embarrassing.”

He seemed confused at your answer, his brows furrowing a little. “S’ nothing to be embarrassed about, my love, most of ‘em never even went to school either.”

“It was just a little awkward when you’re obviously the smallest fish in the pond with nothing to say, H.”

“Well m’ sure they didn’t feel that way, think maybe you’re getting a little too into y’ own head love,” Harry mumbles, his hand leaving its spot on your leg. It felt cool. “H, you light up any room you're in. You wouldn’t get it even if I explained how I felt to you a hundred times over.”

He was visibly getting uncomfortable now, shifting a little in his seat and gripping the steering wheel tighter. You’d told him about these feelings before, the nagging feeling of inadequacy that crept up when he spoke about the industry he was in with too little context for you to keep up with. You felt like a nobody, and that was something he would never be able to understand.

“I overheard what Ben said.”

You trained your eyes on him, leaning into the crook between the car door and the seat to get a better look at his figure. He heaved a big sigh, running a hand through his hair in slight frustration. You’d seen him do this so many times in so many contexts that you knew exactly what each hand-through-the-hair moment meant.

“Love, he didn’t mean it like that,” he’s quick to defend his friend, eyes flickering over to you for a quick second. “He was jus’ concerned.”

“Do you agree with him?”

“No— Love, what are y’ saying? Of course not, we’ve talked about this—”

“Because I do, H. I agree with him.”

“Y/N, y’ can’t be serious right now… What on earth are y’ talking about?”

You slumped back into your seat, eyes watching the dim road ahead. The yellow light of the streetlights cast a warm glow on the interior of Harry’s car, illuminating your faces. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought over what you were going to say carefully - you knew discussing the future was a touchy subject for him, especially when it came to the two of you.

“I don’t know if we’re just being oblivious sometimes, y’know? We’re in different worlds, H, and I feel like nothing I do in this life will ever be enough to match up to you. What Ben said about starting a family… I want that someday. You know that. I know you do too, but what if that’s not on the cards for the next, I don’t know, ten years? You’ll be–”

“I can wait for you, you know that,” he interrupts you, and you watch as he signals his intention to veer left, putting the car into park on the side of the road. This was an important conversation - one he couldn’t believe you were starting now, of all times - and he didn’t want to be distracted for a single moment of it. His answer made you feel worse, even guiltier than before. To have you by his side, he’d need to put his life on hold for you.

“What if I don’t want you to wait, H?” Your voice is small but firm and he’s taken aback by this admission, mouth slightly agape in an attempt to find the words he wanted to say. “What if– what if I don’t want to just be your girlfriend, your wife, the mother of your children? Have you ever thought about things from where I stand?” Rubbish, of course he had. He wanted to support you through every endeavour in life, no matter how big or small. At this point, he’s forgotten just how many times he’s mapped out your life together. He even has baby names floating around somewhere in his head, reserved just for the babies who’d have your smile and his eyes. The only catch was that the idea of you having to live a life in his shadow never crossed his mind. You were remarkable, irreplaceable to him, but that’s not all you wanted in life.

“I– Of course I have, my sweets,” he sighs, finally looking over to you in the passenger seat. Your eyelashes coated in wetness, almost glowing as the light reflected off the tears that coated them. Bottom lip between your teeth, you kept your gaze lowered. His heart clenched at the sight. It felt deeply shameful to admit that this life with him wasn’t enough for you. “Guess I jus’ thought y’ could have both. I thought I could give you the life y’ want.”

It’s not that he couldn’t give you that – it’s just that you wanted to create that life for yourself. You never wanted to rely on anyone, much less him, as much as he was willing to give that all to you in a heartbeat.

“I think we need some time apart, H.”

#i'm kinda tired of writing this and need this to be out there to get my mojo back #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry #writing #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry styles one shot #harry one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #hs3 #harry styles fic

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wheninitalyy · 3 years

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France is no escape - part 1.

A/N : hey! I dont share my writing online very often but since I've been reading all the Benny Watts fanfics I could find, I thought I would post the one I wrote here. I tried to make this pretty gender neutral and I do not know anything about chess, I intend to do a bit of research eventually, but I wrote this solely for my love for the characters and the show (that I may watch again because I’m so obsessed).

This should be a multiple part story if I can motivate myself to continue writing. I’m also very new to Tumblr so I apologize if I'm just- messy.

Final thing! Writing is just a hobby of mine to write down all my thoughts so I apologize if my sentences are a bit messy or too long. Thank you for reading !

Click here for Part Two :]

Pairings : Benny Watts x Reader

Word count : 1865

Warnings : none :]

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“Well, shit,” Harry breathed as he resigned. A smile grew on my face as I leaned back in my chair, one foot on the seat with my leg pulled up against my chest and the other on the cold floor.

Harry was visiting me in little Rouen, France. He had become one of my closer friends even if he was hundreds of miles away.

Cleo, who I met through Benny, was in France for modeling often so I saw her quite a bit, but she wasn’t my home. She wasn’t chess obsessed like my friends were back in America.

Harry sighed as he checked his watch, I glanced over to him and already knew what was going through his head.

“Harry- you don’t have to leave. You could move in with me,” I told Harry, he smiled as he shook his head.

“You know I can’t do that- I’m lucky you’re paying for a flight for me every time I come to France. I couldn’t afford living here and wouldn’t fit in very well,”

He had a point; this wasn’t a place he would enjoy living his day-to-day life in. I got on just fine but learning the language to finding a new job would drive him mad... but I couldn’t help but offer, I was lonely here. I went from being in a relationship with a US Chess Champion in a little apartment in New York to being offered a whole photography career in France. I couldn’t turn this down, with my mother passing away a few months before, there was nothing keeping me in New York.

Heh... I wonder what mother would think of me living in a little apartment in Rouen.

She would likely ask me about the boys and restaurants, if I was making enough to buy elegant clothes and dance in the rain with strangers on late nights. I miss her.

“Hey? You okay Y/N?” Harry pulled me out of my thoughts,

I shook my head and laughed lightly, “Sorry, I was just thinking about when I lived in New York,” I half lied,

“New York? Back when you lived with the Benny Watts?” he asked me,

“Yes, when I lived with the Benny Watts,” I responded mocking the way he referred to Benny.

Benny Watts. The relationship with the US Chess Champion, but he wasn’t a trophy, he was very important to me at the time.

We were meant to stay in contact after I left for France, but days without calling turned into weeks, then months and eventually I don’t think either of us expected to hear from each other in any way other than reading the chess articles.

I buy a magazine when I see him on the cover, I flip through it for a bit but within the day it gets throw into the pile of magazines sat under my coffee table. He just climbed up the ladder of chess higher and higher after I left, it’s possible that Benny Watts getting romantically involved really was bad for him like the fan girls said.

I smiled at the thought.

I took a deep breath as I got up from my chair, “I assume it’s time for you to get going?” I looked to Harry. Harry gave me a sad smile and nodded.

Sunny Paris, another day, another twenty chess players to hunt down for some good cover photos. This wasn’t actually a very common thing, there was a tournament here in Paris. One of the biggest we’ve had in a while actually- this could very well be the talk of the town for quite a while.

“Hello Y/N Y/L!” the front desk receptionist greeted me with a bright smile.

“Big day, huh?” I said as rested my wrists on the counter fidgeting with a pen in my hand.

“Oh yes! your company must be thrilled about this one!” she said, I’ve talked to her enough to book a room here for the little chess tournaments (and sometimes big) to call her an acquaintance and maybe a bit more.

“Yep, it’s going to be a long weekend,” I laughed as I looked back to her,

“I heard they flew in a couple big players from America, anyone you know?” she asked as she looked up at me and slid my room-card over the counter to me.

“Oh? I haven’t checked who was coming in, I’m sure I know a couple of them though,” I smiled and slid the card into my pocket, dropping my pen in my bag as well.

“Well you have a nice morning and tell me if you need anything!” she smiled back,

“Thank you!” I waved to her goodbye and started to walk around the lobby.

One, two, ten chess tables lined up by the windows. The patterned carpet matched the drapes and the tables and chairs were a deep burgundy shade. Potted plants in every corner and little decorative ribbons hung from the ceiling, they really went all out this year.

The games didn’t start until tomorrow, not any important ones at least, so today would be the best day to strike on interviews and photos. I arrived early so people were only just arriving or settling in.

I sat down on a nearby sofa and pulled my camera out, fixing a few things here and there so I didn’t have to later.

After about 30 minutes, I heard a familiar voice, “Well that’s just pawns, there’s no hope there,” the man had an American accent.

I stood up and looked around for the man who I heard; I scanned the room until he spoke again. My eyes darted behind me as I quickly turned around, oh lord.

There he was, long black leather trench coat with a hat that anyone could recognize, tight dark jeans and a black t-shirt. I could almost call the chains around his neck sparkly if the sunrays hit them just right, a crowd around him at all times since he got here, I’d assume.

There he was, Benny Watts.

I was about to walk over knowing how much my company would love to see some shots of him, or maybe it was because he was an old friend... or an old lover.

I shook the thoughts out of my head as I put my camera back in my bag gently and brushed myself off.

I should go.

I stood up and begun to walk toward the elevator across the room, “Y/N!” someone shouted from behind me. I swiftly turned around to be met with Cleo.

“Cleo!” I greeted her, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave! I have a job at eleven,” she paused as she looked over my shoulder. “Oh! have you said hello to Benny yet?” shit.

I turned around to be met with Benny’s gaze, he smiled as he stood up. Of course, his name being said would immediately catch his attention. I looked back to Cleo, there is no turning back, thank you for that Cleo.

I shut my eyes as I swore under my breath.

“Y/N?” Benny asked,

I forgot to breathe for a moment and let out a quiet exhale and turned around, “Ben- Mr. Watts,” I corrected myself as I would if I was on a job, which I was.

At this moment it seemed I had forgotten all my history with Benny while also remembering every detail.

He seemed taken aback by what I called him, “Why are you calling me that?” he smiled but his eyes clearly said he was caught off guard.

“I- I’m on the job,” I stuttered at first, I could see him deciding to let it slide as he looked away. He looked back to me and opened his arms for a hug, I backed away just a bit and he immediately got the message. Why did I do that?

“What? You’ve been gone for a couple years and I’m a stranger now?” he laughed, yet I could tell he was irritated by how I acted. But he was Benny Watts, he never shared how he felt, and he never shows weakness. What I did merely confused him as far as I knew.

I didn’t know how to act if I was being honest, things weren’t left exactly fantastic when I left for France. Benny wasn’t happy I was leaving, not at all. He went from being shocked, to upset, to begging me to stay, to making promises like he would visit me. He didn’t keep those promises, but I never expected him to.

I took a deep breath, “No you’re not- I’m just- sorry,” I was a mess, I wasn’t even able to stay cool around Benny when we were together.

He was my weakness, his smile, his messy dirty blonde locks, his voice.

He looked down, “Don’t worry about it,” he paused as he looked at my eyes. He just stared at me, “Better get going, I think some people are waiting on me,” he told me as he looked back to the crowd who sat around him and a chess table just moments ago.

I looked over to Cleo with a worried expression, she put her hand on my shoulder and shrugged with a sympathetic smile. I was an idiot, I backed away from a hug with Benny when I used to wake up to him everyday only 2 years ago.

Benny looked me up and down and tipped his hat, he spun on his heel as he turned around to walk away. I didn’t know what to say so I decided to say my goodbyes to Cleo and go to my room,

“Benny,” I turned around suddenly hoping to catch him,

“Yeah?” Benny turned to look at me,

“I’ll see you later?” I asked,

He chuckled quietly and looked to his feet, “Sure Y/N, I’ll see you later,” he said dully.

I felt relieved he didn’t scoff and keep walking like he had done to many who wronged him.

I do miss him; I wasn’t distant because I wanted to be- I was distant because I had lost my ways with him. I didn’t know how to be his friend again. I miss the bad jokes and the excited chess talk and even some of the pointless arguing, what it was before I left.

I fell onto my bed and stared at the ceiling in my hotel room.

What would mother think?

I ask myself the same question every day. She would think if he didn’t move to France with me in the first place that he wasn’t worth my time, I smiled as I remembered when she first met him.

She asked how much money he had, if he took me to his tournaments, if he would die for me. Benny sat there speechless while I was a giggling mess, I don’t even believe we were together at that point but over my dead body did I not introduce a US Chess Champion to my mother.

I’ll talk to him before he leaves, I’ll be there to watch him win everyone. I’ll fix what I have clearly broken.

// Part Two ! //

#benny watts #benny watts imagines #benny watts x reader #the queens gambit #the queens gambit imagines #imagines #thomas brodie-sangster #thomas brodie-sangster imagines

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discotreque · 3 years

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LwD 2.05: An Embarrassment of Dooplers

So I was a little nervous about this one! I hadn’t heard any spoiler-spoilers, but screeners have been out for weeks now, and I’d heard a bunch of individual, vague, non-spoilery hints about (1) big character moments, on the scale of a mid-season finale even though the show’s not taking a mid-season break; and (2) an ending that would make me cry.

I guess I imagined something relatively serious and dramatic, like “No Small Parts”? This show makes me cackle with laughter and giggle with nerdy glee and “d’awww!” at heartwarming friendships every week, but it’s only ever made me cry once—and then I was impressed that they were going to get there from the wacky hijinks we saw in the brief teaser.

The lack of a cold open made me apprehensive too—in my experience, that’s typically a sign that there’s so much plot in the rest of the episode that they need that extra scene—but after ~21.5 minutes of aforementioned hijinks, I was having so much fun that I’d completely forgotten about the alleged tear-jerker at the end…

…and they were not the tears I was expecting.

I didn’t think I’d be smiling and crying!!!! That was wholesome as SHIT!!!!!

I almost can’t believe they earned that—but they totally did.

After a Mariner–Tendi episode and a Boimler–Rutherford episode, we’re back to the “usual” Season 1 pairings… except the relationships between these characters have changed since Season 1. Mariner still feels thwacked in the abandonment issues by Boimler bailing for the Titan, and Rutherford’s having a tiny little existential crisis about losing an entire year of his life.

Both of which are extremely understandable and very heavy situations—and both of those situations get resolved because everyone in them is vulnerable with each other and honest about their feelings—AND that honesty and vulnerability brings both pairs of friends closer together. Are you kidding me?? I would watch SEVENTY seasons of that shit. Put it in my veins.

Onto the notes:

So basically Dooplers are Tribbles, but for cringe comedy instead of slapstick? Ohhhhh boy.

Look at Ransom the diplomat, tossing his own fork on the floor! I like that he’s actually a pretty competent Starfleet officer, despite also being a completely ridiculous person.

Wait a second, is that—OH HOLY SHIT, THE DOOPLERS ARE VOICED BY RICHARD KIND.

It makes sense that B. Boimler would find William annoying—who likes seeing their own flaws reflected back at them? And who could be a better reflection of one’s flaws than one’s literal duplicate?—but most interesting to me is that it implies on some level, Bradward knows the stick up his butt is a flaw. (Does William?)

Why does the Cerritos model have working phasers?!?!

I’m loving hot pink as the currently en-vogue colour for “dangerous sci-fi energy” in animation (cf. almost every previous episode of this show; Into the Spider-Verse; other stuff I can’t remember right now). As a former child of the 80’s, I’m living for it… but as a former teenager of the 90’s, I can’t help but wonder if it’s going to age as poorly as the harsh neon green of The Matrix, every Borg appearance on Voyager, and like 80% of the websites I made in high school…

SKANTS! SKANTS! SKANTS!

That fake-out joke with the fly-by over the Cerritos model was in the season trailer weeks ago, and I was so enthralled by that handsome lady that the sticker coming into frame still got me good 😂😂😂

BECKY Mariner????? omg yes

Some top-quality Boimler screams in this one. Poor Jack Quaid must drink gallons of throat-coat tea when he records.

One of the great things about Star Trek to me is that you never know what you’re going to get from any random episode. A murder mystery? A road trip? A spooky thriller? A cheesy romance? Broad comedy? Body horror? Didactic political screeds shrouded in tissue-thin science-fiction metaphors? Brain and brain, what is brain??? And after this many years of watching, you’d think I’d be hard to surprise. But if I ever told you I thought I’d see a Blues Brothers–style car chase through a frickin’ shopping mall on an episode of Star Trek, I would have been straight-up lying to you. I loved it, it worked for me, my jaw was on the floor and I was clapping with joy—but I’m definitely comfortable calling this one “unexpected.”

It’s CAPTAIN SHELBY!!! And an ancient babydyke crush rose from the depths of my childhood subconscious… (Also I think her Number One is based on the original makeup—eventually deemed too complicated—for Saru? Now that’s a deep cut.)

In 20th-century Trek, you almost never got to see what was going on inside a starship from the outside. Even after they switched from physical models (where it was next to impossible on a single episode’s budget) to CGI (which was still in its infancy, still not exactly cheap, and still broadcast in SD anyway), it was a rare thrill to see any meaningful interior details in an exterior shot. Disco’s modern VFX have given us some tasty, tasty treats in that department, but nothing quite as sublime as all the pink Doopler light glittering through the Cerritos’s windows.

Mariner says she’ll take her contact Malvus down with her, and threatens that they’ll end up “in the same cell.” Malvus is a Mizarian, a species introduced in TNG’s “Allegiance,” in which Captain Picard is held in a mysterious prison with one. I think I see what you did there, McMahan?

Bartender… so hot… lesbian circuits… overloading…

The Tendi and Rutherford C-story was, well, a C-story within a 22-minute episode, so there wasn’t much to it, but the one scene that mattered actually mattered a lot. I’m ambivalent on whether they should end up romantically involved—I’d prefer they don’t, but they’ll be one of the cutest couples in Trek history if they do—and as long as they keep that pure, sweet friendship between them at the heart of whatever else happens, I’m on board.

Carol Freeman was already one of my favourite captains before this season, and she’s been steadily moving up the list. The quiet throughline about her ambition to be on a better ship has been fascinating so far, and it’s starting to actually make me feel a little conflicted: I’m of course rooting for Captain Freeman to recognize her worth, make Starfleet recognize her worth, and become the ass-kicking captain of a hero ship that she’s clearly ready to be—but that almost surely means she’d be kicking ass off-screen, because LwD isn’t about those kind of adventures, and I’d be devastated not to have Dawnn Lewis on the show every week. So I’m kind of on the edge of my seat about this one!

I had so many favourite jokes this week I put them in a separate list:

“Even the replicated water on the Titan tasted better” is a low-key brilliant dunk on people who can’t shut the fuck up about the cooler places they used to live.

“Ooooh, they have a Quark’s now! That used to just be an empty lot where teens would make mistakes!” ← That’s literally me every time I go back to where I grew up. I felt so Seen™ I almost hid under a blanket.

“I would never go down the stairs!” (evil grin) (goes up the stairs)

The “well, shit” expressions from Mariner and Boimler as their crashed car sank right into the water… which started to bubble innocuously… and then the bottles of Data bubble-bath popped up, paying off a joke I thought had already been paid off—that was the one that woke up my poor cat this week. Just exquisite timing.

“YOUR PAGH IS WEAK, AND IT DISGUSTS ME!” “I don’t even know what that is, but I don’t like your tone!”

“Okona’s in there? He’s not even Starfleet! This is outrageous!” made me shout “NO!” at the screen like I was scolding my cat for scratching furniture. (She did not wake up that time.)

Best background joke: the neon sign at the dive bar advertising FREE SHOTS & BEERS. (Get it? Because they’re on a Federation starbase? Where nobody uses money?)

And of course Quark merchandised DS9.

This wasn’t just a standout episode of Lower Decks, this was a brilliant episode of Star Trek, period. The Dooplers, though extremely silly, are nevertheless also a clever sci-fi metaphor for real and relatable personal/interpersonal issues, and an effective plot catalyst for meaningful character growth from all four of our ensigns and the captain.

The jokes were hilarious, the action was kinetic, the A-, B-, and C-plots linked up thematically, the visuals were consistently and thoroughly gorgeous, the character beats—between Mariner and Boimler, Tendi and Rutherford, Mariner and Capt. Freeman—were all genuine, heartfelt and wholesome, and the references to other Trek canon were both deep and deeply affectionate.

Only 15 episodes in, and this series knows exactly what it is, exactly what it wants to do, and knows that it can knock our socks off doing it. Mike McMahan has said in recent interviews that the back half of S2 (and the apparently almost-fully-written S3) is a straight line uphill in quality from here—which surprised me at first, because McMahan seems like a pretty chill dude who doesn’t normally brag about his own work like that.

But then the Prophets sent me a vision of my space dad Ben Sisko, who reminded me of the words of 1930’s baseball player Dizzy Dean:

“If you can do it, it ain’t bragging.”

[Thanks to cygnus-x1.net for the screenshots this week—I was too lazy to do my own.]

#star trek #star trek lower decks #lower decks #lower decks spoilers #lwd spoilers #amy's episode notes

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

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3x14: Long-Distance Call

Guys! We have a special surprise next week!! (Hint: We finally get to recap the gay angel episodes again!) Until then, enjoy our last episode for season 3...

Then:

Sam’s saving his brother no matter what

Now:

On a stormy night, a man drinks alone, contemplating life. His phone rings. It’s Linda. Ben tells her he can’t. “My wife.” He hangs up the phone. It rings again. Linda pleads with him. She loves him. He hangs up again. The phone rings AGAIN. He slams it down repeatedly and tears it from the wall. IT RINGS AGAIN! Damn, Linda, you are persistent. To stop the ringing, Ben pulls out a gun and shoots himself.

Dean tells Sam they have a case. Sam tells Dean that they’re on a case --his. Dean balks at that because they’ve got nothing. Bela’s gone, the Colt’s gone, and Dean would rather work a case they can solve than wallow in his imminent death.

They head to Milan, Ohio. They head right to the dead guy’s house and interview his widow. She’s a little belligerent but tells them that there was blood everywhere (Oh, that’s why she’s belligerent), favorite scotch was out, and the phone was ripped from the wall.

Sam asks to look at the crime scene. He goes through the caller ID. Dean asks about strange phone calls. She admits that a couple weeks prior she picked up on a call that Ben was on. It was static. No one was there.

Research time!

Dean finds out that “Linda” was Ben’s high school sweetheart --and she died in a car accident. On top of that, she was cremated. On top on top of that, Sam discovered that the caller ID on the phone traces back to a phone number used a century ago! (I presume Sam did all that research while he stared out the window.)

They head to the bowels of the phone company to find fly infested, porn addicted Stewie. I’m going to skip over all this but will laugh at the ad that said “Order now & receive a bone-us gift!” Sam asks Stewie to trace the old-time number. (Natasha: flames on the side of my face at this damn offensive porn franchise.)

Dean pulls out the threat level 5 on the guy and the guy finds some results. There’s different houses that all received a call from that number.

Sam heads to investigate one house. He poses as a phone company employee. He asks about strange phone activity. The man that answers the phone says that they haven’t had any issues. Sam notices the daughter looking concerned in the background.

She pops outside to call his bluff. She wants to know why he was asking about the phones. He gives her a little give and she admits that she’s been talking on the phone with her mom --who’s dead.

Dean checks in with similar stories. Then he gets a call. It’s the static-y voice of John Winchester.

Later at the motel, Sam wants to know more about Dean’s call. Dean gets all nervous boy about it possibly really being their dad, and what they should do about it. What should Dean say? Sam, ever the pragmatist, suggests, “hello.” It’s funny, but I guess not really because Dean walks out on his brother.

Dean comes back with a reason why things are happening here. It’s the birthplace of Thomas Edison, and there’s a museum with Edison’s spirit phone.

They take a tour but the phone doesn’t have any EMF. They’re stumped as to what’s happening.

Later that night, while Sam slumbers, Dean stays awake to answer his phone. John calls again. He asks Dean how he could sell his soul. “I was looking after Sammy like you told me to.” (Boris screams into the void) John tells Dean that the demon that holds Dean’s contract is in Ohio.

Meanwhile, the daughter from earlier is IMing a friend when she gets a message from her dead mom. The mom says she wants to see her. The girl is scared but her mom reassures her that she’s with her. Then the girl’s computer flickers out and in the reflection of the monitor, we see the girl and her mom.

The next morning, Sam returns from interviewing Lanie, the haunted daughter, to find Dean obsessing over demon omens. He shares his intel with Sam.

Dean’s pretty sure the demon who owns his contract is following him. I pull a Dean voice to say, “Why are you so obsessed with me?” only Dean’s actual line in the show is “My ass is too sweet to let out of sight.” God. This show. Sam tries to tell him that the demon-killing exorcism that John gave Dean over the phone might not be as advertised. Dean’s a believer, though. He’s got faith in John! (Just gonna take a li’l writing break to tear at my hair.)

Sam heads back to watch over Lanie, but before he goes the Winchesters hold an emotional shouting match. Dean’s ready to stop the demon from coming after him once and for all and thinks that Sam’s reticence is just more head-butting with their (now dead) dad. Sam accuses Dean of having “blind faith” towards his father and I weep. Sam leaves with one request: that Dean stay put until he returns from seeing Lanie. So. That’s going to go well.

Lanie explains to Sam what’s been going on - that her mom’s requests have extended beyond the normal grieving cemetery visit. We cut to a young kid playing in his room. His toy phone rings. “Hi, mommy!” he chirps.

Cut to Dean “Single Man Tear” Winchester sitting dramatically by his phone. It rings.

Lanie reveals to Sam that her mother’s ghost told her to kill herself. When Sam hears the ghost’s catchphrase, “come to me,” he realizes that they’re dealing with something else entirely.

While Sam experiences revelation, Dean heads off alone following his dad’s orders. f r o w n y f a c e. He ends up in a quiet, suburban home.

Meanwhile, Lanie’s brother Simon (of the toy phone fame) has gone missing. Sam saves him just in time from getting pancaked by a truck. As soon as the kids are buttoned up back home, Sam calls Dean. He tells him that a crocatta is after the people of the town. It’s a scavenger that lures grieving people and eats their souls. It tends to dwell in filth. Dean recalls the flies at the phone company, so Sam heads out on a hunt. (Meanwhile, YES, Dean’s off having his own questionable adventures, setting demon traps in a nearby house.)

Sam calls Dean for backup before assaulting Stewie, the phone guy. “I know what you are and I know how to kill you,” Sam says to the terrified guy. Someone looms behind Sam with a baseball bat. It’s Clark, the manager! He takes out poor soft-headed Sammy. Unfortunately, Clark takes out Stewie too.

They both wake up tied to chairs inside the building. Clark kills Stewie and then fangs out. He unhinges his jaw and sucks out Stewie’s soul. Yummy? Clark then lays his hands on the phone console...because it’s time to kill Dean!

Elsewhere, in a police locker room, a man’s phone rings. It’s his daughter. “I know who killed me, daddy,” she says. The girl’s voice tells him that her killer is at their house right now.

Clark explains to Sam that spoofing John Winchester was incredibly easy. All he had to do was find their phone numbers, then John’s old numbers. That let him listen to voicemails, read emails, and easily find the weak links that led him to target Dean. Oof. (Side note: a crocatta would make a seriously amazing private detective in an alternate Supernatural where monsters have better meal restraint.)

Dean stands ready at the suburban house - ready to kill a demon. The grieving officer heads home, ready to kill his daughter’s murderer.

Dean’s jug of holy water is met with an angry father with a shotgun, so things start out really well. They quickly devolve into a dirty fist fight.

Meanwhile, the crocatta continues to villain-monologue at Sam.

Technology, Clark says, makes it so much easier to target people. They’re connected - yet isolated and easier to pick off. (I scoff at this overdone oversimplification of the role of “technology” in society. I hate when people try to pretend the past was trouble-free.) Sam finds his argument weak as well, and punctuates that by breaking free of his bonds and attacking Clark.

At the house, Dean disarms the grieving cop and reveals the demon trap below the carpet. He starts reading out the exorcism. To his horror, the guy walks right out of the demon trap. When the guy accuses him of killing his daughter, the pieces click for Dean.

Sam kills Clark by jabbing his head into a retail hook suspended off the wall. OH I SEE, this show has always been obsessed with death by hook. >:|

Dean and the officer avoid killing each other. Instead, they despair in beaten silence together, before we cut to Dean holding a compress to his forehead back at the motel.

Sam and Dean go over the case back in the motel, but talk quickly switches to EMOTIONS. Sam apologizes to Dean. Dean admits he was wrong. “I wanted to believe so badly,” he says. STORY OF HIS LIFE DAMN IT. He admits that he’s terrified of dying. Terrified of Hell.

Sam gives him sad puppy eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with having hope.”

“Hope doesn’t get you jack squat,” Dean tells him.

For Sad Boys with Poor Coping Mechanisms Science:

Call Me By Your Quote:

I just talked to an 84 year old grandmother who's having phone sex with her husband, who died in Korea! It redefined my understanding of the word 'Necrophilia'

That’s what happens when you mess with the phone company, dillweed

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn 3x14 #long distance call #supernatural season 3

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Saturday, August 28, 2021

With wildfire threatening, Lake Tahoe prepares for emergency (AP) The decision to flee their home Thursday in the mountains above Lake Tahoe became clear when Johnny White and Lauren McCauley could see flames on the webcam at their local ski resort. Even as ash rained down under a cloud of heavy smoke, the couple wasn’t panicked because they had an early warning to leave their home near Echo Summit, about 10 miles (16 kilometers) south of the lake, and wanted to avoid last-minute pandemonium if the wildfire continued its march toward the tourist destination on the California and Nevada border. Firefighters were facing changing weather conditions that could push the fire closer to the Tahoe Basin, a home to thousands and recreational playground for millions of tourists who visit the alpine lake in summer, ski at the many resorts in winter and gamble at its casinos year-round. Fires in California have destroyed around 2,000 structures and forced thousands to evacuate while also blanketing large swaths of the West in unhealthy smoke.

The Western air crisis (NYT) “We have had smoke in the sky literally since the third week of July,” Amy Ginder, a 47-year-old resident of Reno, said. “We have been inhaling toxins for five weeks now. You can’t be outside. You can’t breathe. You can’t see the sun.” In response, Ginder has stopped jogging outdoors. “If it were just this summer, you’d just suck it up and move on,” she said. “But it isn’t. It’s the realization that this is our future.” Smoke-clogged air has become a regular part of life in the American West. Climate change has increased the frequency of droughts, extreme heat and, by extension, large wildfires. The smoke then drifts across large parts of the Pacific Coast and Mountain West. Sometimes, it even reaches the East Coast. One measure of the problem: In several places yesterday—including Bend, Ore.; an area north of Sacramento; and Lake Tahoe—air pollution reached levels that can damage lungs when people spend time outdoors. Phil Abernathy, a Lake Tahoe resident who decided to flee the area in search of cleaner air, told The Times that simply inhaling can feel like a “sizable man is standing on my chest.”

Tropical Storm Ida Forms in Caribbean, Heading for Louisiana (Bloomberg) Tropical Storm Ida has formed in the Caribbean and is forecast to a grow into a powerful hurricane in the days ahead, wreaking havoc across the Gulf of Mexico and ultimately crashing into the U.S coast. Ida, the ninth storm of the 2021 Atlantic hurricane season, is swirling past Jamaica, with top winds of 40 miles (64 kilometers) per hour. It’s forecast to strike Cuba Friday, reach hurricane strength over the gulf Saturday and make landfall in Louisiana or Mississippi late Sunday or Monday. “Sunday is the anniversary of Katrina—it seems like a particularly cruel date for a hurricane landfall in Louisiana,” said Ryan Truchelut, president of Weather Tiger LLC. said in an interview. The storm’s winds are forecast to peak at 110 miles per hour (177 kilometers per hour), which would put it just below Category 3 major hurricane status on the five-step Saffir-Simpson scale, the National Hurricane Center said Thursday. Louisiana Governor John Bel Edwards declared a state of emergency ahead of the storm.

Nowhere To Go (AP) The earthquake in Haiti killed and injured thousands, and wiped away thousands of homes. Now, a more grim reality is setting in for those who survived and were hospitalized—if released, they have nowhere to go. 25-year-old Jertha Ylet came to the hospital on August 14, unconscious and with a crushed leg. Her 5-year-old daughter survived unharmed, but her father and two other relatives were killed, her brother seriously injured and her house destroyed. A surgeon had put a metal rod in her lower left leg, but Ylet hadn’t been out of bed or tried to walk since she arrived. Ylet was discharged Thursday—the hospital needed her bed for other patients. “I said to the doctor, ‘I don’t have any place to go,’” Ylet said. Medical staff is sympathetic, but pragmatic. The beds are needed. “After someone gets well they have to go.” In the first days after the earthquake, the hospital was overwhelmed with patients. The injured lay on patios and breezeways awaiting care. Now there are still people in those areas, but they’re discharged patients or others never admitted at all but who are coming for the donations of food and water and clothing arriving at the hospital daily.

Biden: ‘We Will Hunt You Down’ (Foreign Policy) Hours after the Islamic State launched a coordinated suicide bomb attack among the desperate crowds gathered outside Kabul’s international airport on Thursday, U.S. President Joe Biden vowed to continue evacuations—and to retaliate against the perpetrators. “Know this: We will not forgive, we will not forget,” he said in a speech from the White House. “We will hunt you down and make you pay.” The attack killed more than 70 Afghan civilians and 13 U.S. troops in at least two blasts, leaving the area around the airport in chaos. Members of the Islamic State group’s local branch, known as Islamic State-Khorasan, detonated suicide vests at the airport’s Abbey Gate and outside the nearby Baron Hotel. Taliban spokesperson Zabihullah Mujahid condemned the attack, which underscores the security challenges the group faces as it formally establishes a government in Kabul. It remains unclear whether a military response to the bombings is already being undertaken, and if the United States has adequate capacity on the ground to carry it out. [Note: The death toll has been updated to as many as 169 Afghans.]

As NATO countries end their Kabul airlift, many interpreters, embassy staffers and drivers are left behind (Washington Post) Thousands of Afghans who put their lives at risk to work with America's NATO allies have been left behind as the military evacuations wrap up and they hunker down in fear over Taliban reprisals. Britain became the latest nation to announce an end to its airlifts on Friday, as Defense Secretary Ben Wallace told LBC radio that evacuations would end in hours. The military has airlifted nearly 14,000 people out over the past two weeks, but “the sad fact is that not every single one will get out,” he said, with up to 1,100 eligible Afghans who “didn’t make it.” Other countries fell further short of their targets. Germany, whose last soldiers flew out of Afghanistan on Thursday evening, said it had rescued around 4,000 Afghans—far shy of the 10,000 people it had identified as at risk. From Berlin to Ottawa, questions have been raised as to why more was not done to save those who were vulnerable sooner. “I think humanity has fallen apart,” said one employee of a local nongovernmental organization contracted by the German government. He shared a photo of what he said was one of his colleagues, beheaded by the Taliban when they took over his neighborhood. “It feels as though I am so alone,” he said, his voice breaking as he spoke. European governments have said they were left with little choice but to end their military rescue operations as the United States pulls out.

Afghanistan’s Islamic State (AP) The Islamic State offshoot that Americans blame for Thursday’s deadly suicide attacks outside the Kabul airport coalesced in eastern Afghanistan six years ago, and rapidly grew into one of the more dangerous terror threats globally. The Islamic State’s Central Asia affiliate sprang up in the months after the group’s core fighters swept across Syria and Iraq, carving out a self-styled caliphate, or Islamic empire, in the summer of 2014. The group started as several hundred Pakistani Taliban fighters, who took refuge across the border in Afghanistan after military operations drove them out of their home country. Other, like-minded extremists joined them there, including disgruntled Afghan Taliban fighters unhappy with what they—unlike the West—saw as the Taliban’s overly moderate and peaceful ways. As the Taliban pursued peace talks with the United States in recent years, discontented Taliban increasingly moved to the more extremist Islamic State, swelling its numbers. Many were attracted to the Islamic State’s violent and extreme ideology, including promises of a caliphate to unite the Islamic world, a goal never espoused by the Taliban.

Afghanistan got just 5 minutes of coverage on the network newscasts last year, analysis says (The Week) The current chaos in Afghanistan may be dominating the headlines, but in 2020, the war reportedly received just a handful of minutes of network news coverage throughout the entire year. According to analysis from the Tyndall Report via the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft, the national evening newscasts on CBS, ABC, and NBC in 2020 devoted just five minutes to Afghanistan coverage. The coverage came in February 2020, when the Trump administration announced the Doha agreement with the Taliban to end the war. ��"Five minutes!" Andrew Tyndall writes. "Such were the demands on the news agenda of the looming coronavirus pandemic in the early spring of 2020. Coverage of all other developments was eclipsed by COVID. The networks had long since given up covering the war as a war." [Since 2014] they "have treated the role of the military there as an afterthought," he said.

New Zealand extends virus lockdown (AP) New Zealand’s government has extended a strict nationwide lockdown through Tuesday as it tries to quash its first outbreak of the coronavirus in six months. Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern said Friday the government expects to keep Auckland, where most of the cases have been found, in full lockdown for at least two more weeks. But she expects most other parts of the country can ease restrictions slightly from Wednesday. The announcement came as health authorities reported 70 new daily cases, the most yet in the outbreak, which has grown to nearly 350 cases in total. Ardern said there was evidence the lockdown was working and new case numbers were beginning to level off. She said she remained committed to the strategy of eliminating the virus entirely.

Gunmen release students in northern Nigeria 3 months later (AP) Gunmen have released some of the children kidnapped from a school in northern Nigeria back in May, some of whom were as young as 5 years old, the school’s head teacher said late Thursday. He could not confirm the exact number freed. Authorities have said that 136 children were abducted along with several teachers when gunmen on motorcycles attacked the Salihu Tanko Islamic School in Niger state. Other preschoolers were left behind as they could not keep pace when the gunmen hurriedly moved those abducted into the forest. The release came a day after local media quoted one parent as saying six of the children had died in captivity. The government has been unable to halt the spate of abductions for ransom. As a result, many schools have been forced to close due to the concerns about the kidnapping risk.

Gig apps for a pandemic economy (AP) For months, Gabrielle Walker had been looking for a part-time job. Then one day, Walker, a 19-year-old student at University College London, was scrolling through TikTok and stumbled on a video about an app called Stint, which helps students earn money by working brief temporary stints at places like restaurants and bars that require little training or experience. Walker downloaded the app, took a 15-minute intro course and days later snagged a job polishing cutlery at a Michelin-star restaurant in London—for one day. Between May and June, she took on several other gigs, squeezing them into her class schedule where she could. Stint, in use across the U.K., has grown in popularity, alongside similar apps in the United States like Instawork and Gigpro, as one response to the peculiar ways in which economies have been rebounding from the pandemic recession. In contrast to Stint, Instawork and Gigpro are suited more for skilled or experienced workers who want or need short-term shifts. Collectively, the newer apps represent a variation on the many gig apps that sprang up in recent years—from Uber and DoorDash to TaskRabbit and Thumbtack—that typically serve households in need of a one-time service. What distinguishes the latest apps is that they link workers with employers that have a steady need for labor but don’t necessarily want to commit to permanent hires given the uncertainties from the pandemic.

#headlines #news

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gstqaobc · 4 years

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CBC THE ROYAL FASCINATOR

Friday, October 23, 2020

Hello, royal watchers and all those intrigued by what’s going on inside the House of Windsor. This is your biweekly dose of royal news and analysis. Reading this online? Sign up here to get this delivered to your inbox.

Janet DavisonRoyal Expert

The lessons of becoming Diana in The Crown

(Ollie Upton/Netflix)

For Emma Corrin, preparing to take on the role of Diana, Princess of Wales, in The Crown was something of a psychology lesson. The 24-year-old actor assumed the part knowing full well those watching her arrival next month in Season 4 of the Netflix drama will already have well-established impressions of a member of the Royal Family who grew from "Shy Di" to one of the most photographed celebrities and fashion icons of recent times. Those existing impressions made assuming the role “incredibly daunting,” Corrin said in an interview from London. It helped once she got the script and saw the story. But there was also considerable work with a coach on “understanding the psychology behind a lot of what was happening.” And a lot of what was happening to Diana was “incredibly unnatural and quite intense,” Corrin said. At the age of 19, Diana Spencer moved from an apartment she shared with friends in West London into Buckingham Palace after her engagement to Prince Charles, the heir to the throne and a man 13 years her senior. Diana thought “it was going to be the best event of her life and that they were going to live happily ever after, but then [she discovered] he was with another woman,” Corrin said. Along with that, there was the pressure that comes from being a royal in the public eye. “All of these are very extraordinary circumstances, really, for someone to be operating in,” said Corrin. “These things that she was exposed to come with a whole lot of pressures that affect someone’s mentality, and that was really interesting.” Even so, there are still all those impressions viewers will have before they catch their first glimpse of Diana when the new season of The Crown starts streaming on Nov. 15. And what if Corrin’s portrayal doesn’t match those impressions? Does that matter in trying to create a successful portrayal of such a well-known person? Not necessarily. “If you talk to actors who have to play a real person ... especially somebody that is so world famous and familiar as Diana — [the challenge comes] because audiences are expecting that actress to look and sound just like the real thing,” said Bill Brioux, a longtime television columnist and commentator. He looks no further than the actor holding the central role on The Crown for Seasons 3 and 4 as an example of overcoming that challenge. “I think Olivia Colman [as Queen Elizabeth] has shown that you don’t have to be a carbon copy, that you might capture a nuance or an essence of someone,” Brioux said. “Certainly, Colman spent a lot of The Crown looking surprised and perplexed, you know, aghast at times.” And we certainly aren’t used to seeing the Queen looking that way in public. “So I think it will be interesting to see how Diana is received,” Brioux said. As she prepared for the role, Corrin said she became overwhelmed “by the amount of factual information out there about her and also … the thought that I would be portraying someone so well-known." Corrin said she “started work on her mannerisms and her behaviour and figuring out why she did the things she did or what she would feel about certain situations that I was going to be acting. “ Corrin also spoke to Patrick Jephson, Diana’s private secretary. “He knew her very well and was able to provide a lot of insight, which was wonderful.” With Diana, Brioux suggested, there may be more pressure on an actor than if the portrayal was of a person not so well-known. “People all have their own expectations of Diana in their minds,” he said. “You’re going to disappoint a lot of people no matter what you do, so hat’s off to this actress for taking it on. “I think that there’s potential, though, if you come close, to get a lot of rave reviews because everyone knows the subject and that’s how they’ll judge it."

For more on Corrin’s experiences preparing for the role, click here.

A rare day out for the Queen — and no mask

(Ben Stansall/Reuters)

Royal visits can typically give the royal guest the opportunity to see some cutting-edge technology or to meet individuals being recognized for their work or volunteer efforts in helping others in their community. But Queen Elizabeth’s first major public engagement since the coronavirus pandemic struck in March offered more than a chance for her to visit a new defence research centre west of London and check out the latest in explosives detection. The visit to Porton Down, where scientists are also helping in the response to the pandemic, seemed designed to offer a larger symbolism. “I think it was a really important message for her to send that even though … we’ve been in lockdown and we’re facing new restrictions, the Queen was still able to meet people involved in the COVID response,” Roya Nikkhah, a royal correspondent for the Sunday Times newspaper, told the CBC’s Renee Filippone. Still, the visit, which the 94-year-old carried out alongside her grandson, Prince William, sparked questions — and criticism — because neither of them was wearing a mask at a time when Britons must wear face coverings in stores and other indoor spaces. Those involved in the visit were physically distanced, and Buckingham Palace said safety protocols were followed. Reuters reported that staff at the research centre had been tested for COVID-19 before the visit. “Every precaution that could be taken was taken,” said Nikkhah. “That’s why the Queen didn’t have to wear a mask.” Royal author Robert Jobson told the Daily Mail that Elizabeth was sending a “message of confidence to the people.” “She’s going back to work, she'll go about her business in the usual way, but without taking chances. She is reassuring the public that things must go on as normal, wherever it is safe to do so.” The Queen has spent much of the time since the pandemic struck in isolation at Windsor Castle, considered to be her favourite residence. She has returned there recently after spending a few weeks with Prince Philip at Balmoral Castle in Scotland, and a shorter period on her Sandringham estate northeast of London. Throughout the pandemic, Elizabeth has conducted official duties via video or over the phone, and made two appearances within the walls of Windsor Castle — one for a considerably scaled-down recognition of her official birthday in June, and one to bestow a knighthood on Capt. Tom Moore, a 100-year-old honoured for his charity fundraising. Still, it’s unlikely there will be many other outings like her trip to Porton Down anytime soon. “I think [it] was probably a bit of a one-off,” Nikkhah said. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing a lot more of her on public engagements.”

A new portrait for Canada

(Chris Jackson/Getty Images/Government of Canada)

There is also considerable symbolism on display in Queen Elizabeth’s new official Canadian portrait. While the portrait is new to the public, the photo itself was taken more than a year ago, in March 2019 at Windsor Castle, by royal photographer Chris Jackson. He shared it on social media late last week. In the portrait, the Queen is wearing her Canadian insignia as sovereign of the Order of Canada, Jackson said, along with the Order of Military Merit. The diamond and blue sapphire necklace and earrings she is wearing were a wedding day gift from her father, King George VI, in November 1947, and were worn during her five-day trip to Canada in 1990. Jackson said on Instagram that it was an “incredible honour” to have the opportunity to photograph the Queen for the portrait. “I’ve been lucky enough to have visited Canada many times now with members of the Royal Family and have the fondest memories of the people I’ve met.”

Royally quotable

"My family and I knew nothing about it and were at a loss to know how we could help alleviate the terrible pain she suffered."

— Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall,

reflects on her mother’s death from osteoporosis

26 years ago, and went on this week to note the “huge strides” made since then in treatment and research into the disease.

Royals in Canada

(Hans Deryk/The Canadian Press)

When Charles and Diana came to Canada in late October 1991, it was the last trip they made to the country together. And in ways it was two visits in one for the couple, whose collapsing marriage was under intense media scrutiny at the time, as they went their separate ways for much of the seven-day sojourn.

One stop for Diana in Toronto took her to Casey House, a hospice for people who have AIDS.

“Diana had just begun to venture into the issue of AIDS, then repellent to much of society, but it was still surprising that she chose to see a hospice full of very ill people rather than some less harrowing AIDS setting,” Casey House founder June Callwood

wrote in Maclean’s magazine

after Diana’s death in 1997.

Callwood had a mixed view of Diana, but that visit to Casey House, where she sat and visited with hospice residents, left a lasting impression.

Diana “wanted nothing less than to change the world for the better,” Callwood wrote. “And perhaps she did. On that lovely afternoon … she made everyone at a small AIDS hospice in Toronto feel worthwhile. That’s quite a gift.”

Our friends at CBC Archives have taken a closer look at the 1991 visit, which was also the first time both William and Harry went with their parents on a foreign trip.

Royal reads

1. Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, says she

avoids speaking about controversial topics

in an attempt to ensure she doesn’t put her family at risk. She also says she’s been told that in 2019, she was the

“most trolled person in the entire world.”

[BBC, The Guardian]

2. More than 60 years after Queen Elizabeth gave a pair of swans to a city in Florida,

it has sold off three dozen of their descendants

in a bid to ease a crisis in overpopulation of the birds. [The Independent]

3. Thirty years after Diana laid a ceremonial foundation stone for a cancer hospital, her son William

did the same

. [The Daily Mail]

4. Dutch King Willem-Alexander says he

regrets going to Greece for a holiday

after he and his family were criticized for taking a trip during the pandemic. [BBC]

Cheers!

I’m always happy to hear from you. Send your ideas, comments, feedback and notes to

[email protected]

. Problems with the newsletter? Please let me know about any typos, errors or glitches.

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whumpywhumper · 4 years

Text

New York--Part 2

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @rosesareviolentlyread @oceanthesarcasamfox @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @voidwhump @captivity-whump @walkingchemicalfire

As always, @0idril0 was indispensable to this series and the fact she’s allowed me to use Clint makes me so grateful, go check out her Nico Series

Please see the: Masterpost and New York--Part 1

TW: Mentions of possible character death. This is some angsty, schmoopy, worldbuilding.

V***V

Clint growled, head spiraling after looking at the evidentiary photographs for hours. An itch had started under his skin about an hour ago, making him antsy and grumpy.

He flicked the photograph of one of the “cattle cells”, one of the female Elder’s, onto the table with a disgusted snarl. “What the fuck have you pulled me into, Holland?”

The older man groaned, throwing a photo onto the table himself before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping that you could tell me that, Clint. We know it’s a nest, but only Christ knows what else they’re doing. How big they actually are. They’re organized, they’re doing something else.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Caught wind of them about six months ago, about the time I heard you were in Chicago, but we didn’t get a solid lead until recently.” Their eyes met across the table, and Clint saw the fountain of wisdom in them that had made him trust him for years. “I’ve got a gut feeling, it’s why I wanted you here.”

He tugged at a fist full of hair, trying to stretch out his back. The conference room was quiet other than the footsteps of the nurses back and forth to their station. Kincaid had fallen asleep on the table, one hand still holding a pen as he’d taken copious notes in everything in the photos.

Ben was laying on the ground, feet propped up in his chair, a sheaf of papers on his chest. His glasses were askew and an occasional grunting snore filling the air. Delta, Justin, and Daniel had all left a few hours previous; Delta parting with one last glare that had made the remaining cops snicker.

He shook his head, looking at all of the photos they’d gone through. “I need more info,” he sighed, “hands on info. This isn’t working for me. I want to talk to some of the people inside. Anyone stand out as being someone who would talk?“

“Not right off the bat, no. Definitely not the vamps themselves. The humans on the inside, the ‘neolates’ as they call them, are pretty dedicated, and quite a few scattered to the wind when we raided. Most of the vics were out of the loop, either drugged or magicked to hell.”

“Most?”

“There were a few that were kept pretty strong so that the fledglings and juveniles could practice their-“ he wiggled his fingers, “-mind stuff.”

Clint smirked, “they call it glamour.”

“Whatever-” Holland waved away the correction, “-there were others that were kept for the vamps to have fun with. Point is, there’s a few that could tell us what was going on, and there’s a few that we’re still waiting on to get back in their right mind or waking up. If they’re going to wake up.” He sighed, exhausted. “I’m not sure any of them will be of any help, really.”

“How many do you have here?”

“All of the vics were originally stationed here, but the majority have been cleared to go home, or to some of the shelters and long term care facilities for rehab. We just don’t have the resources to keep them.” He started counting on his fingers, looking pensive. “I have the statements that we got from them before we released them—there was a veritable shitstorm of uniforms and detectives up here interviewing—and I have contact information for all of them if you want to interview ‘em.” He shook his head, pursing his lips. “I don’t think that that would be the best use of your time, there’s too many of them, and they don’t know much.”

Holland stretched, pulling a file toward himself and looking at a list. “I think there’s about thirty that are here in their longer stay wards, a few of those are being weaned off of some heavy narcotics so their testimony isn’t as reliable as I want right now, and we have one under ICU care, but he’s being kept on the same floor for ease of access and security—it’s actually this floor. He’s why Blue Nightmare out there is being such a bitch, she wants him up on the other floor.” Rolling his eyes, he smirked, a fond edge to his lips. “I’ve tried to tell her that it’s for his protection, we have units stashed all over, but she’s still worried. It also irritates her to no end that we’ve messed up her nurses rotations and shifts, but Olivia is a good egg. One of the best.” He tossed the file to Clint, but it was a gibberish list of names, initials, and medical stats. “There’s a couple of bodies down in the morgue here, and a few at the coroner’s office, if you want to take a look at them. There was an incinerator on site, we think that’s where the majority of their bodies went.”

Sighing, Clint closed the file and rubbed at his eyes. “Were there any nest members that were injured in the raid?”

“A few, I’ve already interviewed them, they’re not going to give much I don’t think. They were their front line. You might have more luck—especially if I’m not there.” Clint smiled to himself, Holland wasn’t ever one to stand on police procedure when it came to sups, but he was never unfair about it. “Uhh, there’s one that might be more helpful, I didn’t even think about him since he’s practically on death’s door anyway.” He pulled another file out of a stack, almost toppling it onto Kincaid. “His name is Joseph, he was apparently getting some kind of cure for working for the vamps, but now the docs say he’s got two weeks, at best. Pancreatic cancer.”

Clint hummed as he took the proffered file, flipping it open to look at the picture. A young African-American man looked up at him from a mug shot, dark eyes pained and hollow. He couldn’t have been more than twenty three, already dying, faced with an impossible decision. Fuck. How many other nest mates were in the same position?

“You’ve got a lot of pictures here of the nesting areas and containment cells. Where was the nest located?”

“It’s a renovated factory at the edge of the city, they’d expanded it and turned it into a compound. Rumor had it that there was a small clinic that was run out of it for supernaturals of all types. We’re not sure how their greater operation was evading scrutiny, but this nest runs deep. I think it’s one of their main strongholds though, and Justin can take you tomorrow.”

Sighing, Clint looked back over the mounds of photographs. “Holland. . . This is a big operation, it’s gonna to take a lot of time.” He shook his head, biting at his lip. “I wanna help, and I can give you a few days, but I have something I’m already in the middle of investigating. It’s important.”

“I heard through the grape vine, a friend of yours went missing in Massachusetts a few months back?” Holland interlaced his fingers, deliberately putting his elbows on the table and looking at him with a compassion that Clint wanted to reject. He knew what he thought, and he wasn’t ready to accept it. “You still haven’t found him?”

He grunted a negative, avoiding the other man’s eyes. “Leads went cold, was actually hoping some of my connections here might have heard something.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“Five months.”

“Clint,” Holland paused, a gusty sigh through his nose before his hand rasped against his gray stubble, “Massachusetts is four hours from here, and they’re both densely populated. There’s little likelihood that anyone would have heard something, or remember something from five months ago, no matter how small the supernatural community is.” They both paused, a sinking, palpable tension filling the room. “Clint, son, look at me,” he said softly.

His eyes burned, and he knew when he met Holland’s steadfast gaze that they were red with unshed tears. “I don’t wanna hear it, Holland,” he whispered, a hot coal in his throat.

The other man nodded at him, a small frown on his face as he climbed to his feet stiffly, closing the distance between them. Clint didn’t move from his seated position, looking up at his friend as he put a strong hand on his shoulder. Gripping him tightly.

Holland held his gaze, words unstoppable. “I know you don’t wanna hear it, son, but it’s not gonna change anything to sugar coat it. To avoid the reality. You’ve been doing this for long enough, you know the statistics.” He squeezed Clint’s shoulder, bracing him. “You know what I’m going to say, and I don’t have to spell it out for you. I’m not going to bullshit you like I would some civvy; you wouldn’t appreciate it, and I’ve never been very good at it.”

He sighed heavily, giving Clint time to scramble madly for control of himself. “You need to accept that your friend is probably gone, Clint,” he said softly, “and probably has been for a while.”

Clint shuddered, biting his tongue as his wolf howled inside of him, wanting to join in with that disconsolate sound. A few rogue tears spilled onto his cheeks. “Fuck,” he hissed between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he bowed his head. He knew that. He knew it, he just didn’t want to accept it.

Holland’s thick hand rubbed at his back, short rough strokes, before he continued. “The supernatural community is dangerous, Clint, and you all live on the fringe of death every day—you know that even better than I do. It’s why I need your help.”

He gestured to Ben and Kincaid, encompassing the make shift command station, the ambiguous motion somehow including their futility. “As much as this is our livelihood, we’re still just laymen when it comes to the supernatural community, to the intricacies of how magic works and how you operate.” He sighed, showing every inch of his sympathy in the gaze he locked onto Clint.

“Please, son, help me stop this from happening to other people, while we still can.”

Swallowing thickly, Clint coughed on a sob, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I hate when you’re right,” he choked out, sniffling.

“I hate when I’m right too,” Holland answered sadly, leaving is hand on Clint’s shoulder in support.

It took several long minutes for Clint to get ahold of himself, and he felt exhausted as he raised his head. The heels of his hands dug into this eyes, trying to clear away the tears. Holland backed off, returning to his chair at the head of the table.

He sighed, looking around at the other officers, trying to push his hair back. “I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted, and these two are definitely exhausted. When was the last time they slept in a bed?”

Holland huffed, exasperated. “I couldn’t get them to leave after the raid for longer than it took to shower and grab more clothes. That was about 72 hours ago, I don’t know that they’ve left this room unless they told each other to shower and eat. Kincaid is taking this personally, and Ben is always along for the ride.”

Clint raised an eyebrow, staring at him sideways. “They together?”

“Going on eight years, partners before that, and don’t you look at me like that either,” he said, pointing a finger at him. “They’re the best damn tactical team I’ve come across, I’d be downright stupid to try and split them up.

Raising his hands in surrender, Clint let the subject go. Supernatural squads didn’t always follow the book, but they couldn’t if they wanted results. “Do the nurses have a rack room they’d consider letting us use?”

“Yeah, the Chief of the hospital already pulled some of the bunks they have for their on call people into an empty room. It’s cramped, but it’ll do. Help me get ‘em up.”

Grinning, Clint kicked the chair out from under Ben’s feet and laughed at his snorted yelp as the other man shot up, sheets of paper falling to the floor.

Holland chuckled, shaking Kincaid awake, “c’mon, Sleeping Beauty, we’ll pick this up after you get a few hours of shut eye.” Kincaid tried to argue, a mumbled complaint that was incomprehensible as he raised his head, bleary eyes blinking owlishly. “Ah-ah! I’ll listen to your objections when you can enunciate.”

Helping Ben to his feet, his glasses still askew, they followed Holland. The large hospital afforded them a lot of distance between the conference room and the patient rooms, but Holland led them back to toward the nurses station, the empty room apparently near the patients.

The nurse from before, Olivia, was glaring at a computer like it had personally offended her mother. She looked up at them as they passed, and Clint could smell the worry and stress on her, tell-tale lines marring her makeup. He nodded at her, and saw her face soften a fraction as she looked over Ben and Kincaid. “Get some actual sleep, all of you,” she ordered, “I don’t want to be your nurse; you don’t want me to be your nurse.” The threat was clear, and they all saluted her as they made their way into their designated room.

One of the doors to a patient’s room opened, and Clint sneezed, making sure to cover his mouth and nose as the scent of sickness, stress, and hurt invaded his nostrils. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, “I hate hospitals.”

Kincaid shrugged out of the police issued hoodie he was wearing, tossing it at his head. “Here, Copper, take a whiff of that.”

Clint rolled his eyes at the movie reference. “I’m getting real tired of the bloodhound jokes,” he grumbled, throwing the hoodie over his shoulder. His eyes widened though as the scent of rosemary and magic hit his overstimulated nostrils. Shoving the hoodie against his nose, he took a deep breath and snapped his head over to raise his eyebrows at Kincaid. “Well, that woulda been nice to know!” Clint growled, a little of his shock bleeding over into the words. It wasn’t often a witch took him by surprise.

Said witch laughed as he turned into a door way after Holland and Ben, who were also chuckling, climbing onto the closest top bunk. “I’m surprised you didn’t get a bead on me earlier, I heard werewolves have super sniffers.” He shrugged sheepishly, “I’m really not strong enough to do anything with the magic, never delved into it, but maybe it’ll help with the hospital smell.” He smiled at his partner from his height as the slightly older man took his glasses off and set them carefully on a counter. “C’mon, slow poke.”

“You’re an over grown child,” Ben grumped, pointing at him in mock outrage.

“The problem with hospitals,” Clint explained, “is that I can’t smell a whole lot over everything that’s going on. Too many hormones, bodily fluids, and cleaning supplies.” Clint climbed onto the empty bottom bunk, opposite to Holland as the Captain let them bicker, the older man sitting on the already rumpled bunk below Kincaid and kicking off his shoes.

Ben shut off the light before he crawled up next to Kincaid. “Shut up, you two,” he grumbled, thwumping down, pulling the blanket over Kincaid’s face.

Holland kicked the bottom of their bunk as the furniture gave a slightly ominous creak. “I swear to god, if you two fall on me, you’re both fired.”

“Sir, yes sir!” They both replied.

Shaking his head, Clint made himself comfortable under the thin hospital issue sheets, putting Kincaid’s hoodie over the pillow. He felt slightly silly, using the other man’s clothes basically as a gas mask, but anything was better than the thick aroma of bleach on the pillow case.

Even with the lights off, the busy streetlight peeked through the blinds, illuminating the two men on the top bunk. He sighed, wanting Nico, to hold him close and make sure his Mate was safe. Even if the bond wasn’t formed yet, he wanted him. He wanted to make sure all of his pack was safe, the raw wound that Holland had dealt making an itch to check on Illyn, the other folks down in Louisiana. Gotta ask to borrow a phone tomorrow.

Sniffing, he held the pillow close, analyzing the undertow of scents. Rosemary. Lime. Garlic. Gunpowder. The tickling scent of magic mixed with them, a memory of a memory wafting across his brain. He could swear that he smelled Markus, not Kincaid, but he sighed, pushing the thought away.

His talk with Holland was too close, that’s all. Still, he held on to the scent as he fell asleep, a vague comfort against the ache.

#Markus/Lucien Series #Mentions of Character Death #Whump series #Modern magic #werewolf oc #mystery #story building

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pufflyhallows · 4 years

Text

Picks & Pens (II)

Hello! I’m back with another chapter for this one. This AU is so cool for me, I hope you guys like it.

Chapter Two: The Day I Died

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,4k

a/n: I still don’t know shit about press lol

Mrs. Lennox hadn’t e-mailed you in three days. Didn’t seem much time for the outside eye, but you knew it was strange. You hoped there was nothing wrong with the interview, as you had already started working on your questions and also had plans for the extra cash coming in soon. There was a local artist whose paintings had a quite fun twist on pop culture and you liked to support him. Your living room could use some more color too.

Just when you finally had all your focus directed at the writing of your questions, Jessie popped up behind your laptop with a questioning look.

“What?” you asked impatiently, slightly irritated that you had been interrupted.

“You’re too quiet today.”

“I’m working?”

“Must be something really important to make you miss Kevin’s afternoon rage. What is it?”

“Oh, I missed it? What was it this time? The vending machine ran out of peanuts?”

“Nope. The construction site is ‘making too much noise’.”

“He means the construction site ten floors below us?”

“Yeah. You can’t even hear it!” Jessie shook her head. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. What are you working on?”

“An interview,” you closed your laptop.

“Ooh… is it top secret?” she wiggled her eyebrows. “Is it an A-List celebrity? Oh my God, it’s Tom Hardy, isn’t it?”

“What? No,” you chuckled. “I’ll tell you when I get the confirmation. It’s a bit uncertain for now.”

“But can you give me a hint? Like… male or female? Actor or singer? Politician, maybe? A TV host?! Give me something, Y/N!”

“Male,” you said. “And that’s all I’m giving you.”

“Male… Hm…” she squeezed her eyes. “Are you sure it’s not Tom Hardy? You know I would definitely pretend to be your assistant and sneak in that interview, right?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt that. But no, Jessie, it is not Tom Hardy.”

“What a bummer. Well, good luck on the confirmation. I need to go back to that puppy coat article.”

“Puppy coat?”

“Yeah, you know… Coats for puppies. It’s quite trendy now in the winter. People still need to take their dogs out for walkies, after all.”

“Please tell me you’re putting pictures on that article.”

“You bet I am,” she smiled. “Comes out tomorrow, probably. Check the website at noon.”

“I definitely will.”

When Jessie walked away, you heard the infamous ding from your computer, announcing a new e-mail. You quickly opened the device again and clicked on the e-mail icon. It was from Brenda.

Mrs. Lennox wants to grab coffee downstairs with you at 4 p.m.

Perfect. Probably an update on the scheduling.

You replied confirming your attendance to the casual meeting and looked at your watch. It was still 3:35 p.m.

Your train of thought for the interview had been lost already, thanks to Jessie and her curiosity, so you didn’t get back to it right away. Instead, you decided to stretch your legs and walk over to Ben’s desk. He managed to make those twenty five minutes pass quite fast, getting a few laughs out of you in the process. When it was time, you got into the elevator and descended a couple of floors to the coffee shop.

You knew from experience that Sophia Lennox always arrived five minutes after the time she set. She hated waiting for people, but she did not want to make people wait for her for too long. Words you heard from Sophia herself. For that reason, you took the liberty to sit at the most discrete table and wait for her inside. As expected, she appeared after five short minutes and sat in front of you.

“Have you ordered anything yet?” she asked, signaling to the waitress that usually served her table.

You shook your head just as the waitress approached the table.

“Hello, dear. One latte for me and…” Mrs. Lennox looked at you.

“A mocha for me,” you smiled at Sam, the waitress.

“Right away,” she smiled back, walking away.

“I could start this conversation with ‘you’re probably wondering why I asked you to meet me here’, but I know you’re smart enough not to wonder. You know this is about the interview,” Mrs. Lennox started. “And let me get this out of the way and say that it’s very much confirmed. You will be interviewing him. The only issue we’re having is his schedule. He’s a very busy man, apparently. Much busier than I thought.”

You kept on listening, not finding that information surprising.

“It was his birthday a couple of weeks ago and he had taken a break from his usual schedule to celebrate. Now that he’s back, there are some things he needs to take care of before even thinking about interviews. At least, that’s what his manager told me.”

“So no prediction?”

“Actually, yes. There is a prediction, but I don’t think you’re going to like it. He will probably be available between the 15th and the 21st of December. Though it’s no guarantee.”

“Oh! That’s like three weeks from now,” you reflected for a few seconds. “And then it will be quite a hurry to write the article.”

“I know… I felt really tempted to pull the ex-girlfriend card, but you’ve asked me not to and I didn’t.”

“What, you think they would make time for it if they knew?”

“I mean, probably. It’s good press for him too,” you looked down after hearing her words. Of course it’s about press. “But all they know is that it’s for SL Magazine.”

Before you could reply, Sam came back with your orders, placing them on the table.

“Thank you.”

As she walked away, you grabbed your cup of mocha and took a small sip.

“So…” Mrs. Lennox cleared her throat. “Can you do it?”

You knew that was a rhetorical question. There was no way you could backpedal now.

“Yes. But I’d really appreciate it if you managed to get me the 15th or 16th. The sooner, the better.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” your boss sighed, raising her cup at you before taking a sip. “I will try to get the-”

The conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Lennox’s cellphone ringing inside her purse. She reached for it and looked slightly surprised with the name on the screen. “It’s her.”

“Who?” you frowned.

“The manager,” she slid her finger across the screen and put the phone on her ear. “Hello?”

You grabbed your cup with both hands and took a long sip as you watched the conversation.

“I’m great! How about you? Oh, that’s lovely. I believe it was Tuesday, yes. Not at all! I completely understand. Well… um…” Mrs. Lennox looked at you hesitantly before carrying on. “Yes, that’s her.”

The nervousness and apprehension started kicking in. You found yourself almost squeezing the cup between your hands, waiting for your boss to end that call and tell you what was going on.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” she let out a business laugh. “Oh, that will get a little rushed, don’t you think? No, no. I appreciate it. Thank you very much, Miss Dawson. Of course. Bye bye.”

Mrs. Lennox placed her phone on the table and took a deep breath. She looked at you and bit her lower lip thoughtfully.

“What happened?” you asked. “It wasn’t canceled, was it?”

“No! Don’t even say something like that,” she shook her head and waved her hand at you. “Well, his manager is quite good. She looked into SL and found out you work for us, so she wanted to know if, by any chance, you would be the one interviewing him. I wasn’t going to lie, of course, and said yes.”

“Oh...”

“Look, I know this isn’t what you wanted, but it is actually a good thing, Y/N. She said she’ll squeeze us in for next week!”

“Next week?!”

“Isn’t it great? I knew they would make time for you.”

Of course, I’m ‘good press’.

“You have started on the material, right?” Mrs. Lennox asked.

“I have, actually. But I’m still doing research.”

“Okay. You’ll have to hurry a little bit. Miss Dawson said next Wednesday is the perfect day, which means you only have about four days to finish it. And keep in mind that I want to see it before you go, so we should have a little spare time in case you need to make edits,” she stopped to take another sip and you accepted that your weekend was going to be wasted on Sirius Black research. “Do you know her, by the way? The manager.”

“No. He had a different one back then,” you sounded more bitter than you intended, and Mrs. Lennox eyed you for a couple of seconds.

“I won’t ask.”

“Thanks.”

“Well… let’s get to work!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With a glass of red wine on your nightstand and random music videos from YouTube playing on the TV, you typed question after question on your laptop, sitting on your queen sized bed on a Saturday night. It was going to be a big article. Two full pages with three columns of text each, according to Mrs. Lennox. She wanted the narrated type, with you describing even his motioning hands. It was going to be a handful, but you were prepared. You had done it before. This wouldn’t be any different from the Saoirse Ronan one.

As you went through his discography, you listened to all the songs you hadn’t listened before, which meant most of them. After the breakup, you had stopped listening to his music altogether. You only knew the ones that became hits and played in the radio, gas stations, stores, every damn where. It was quite annoying, actually.

You got to the last song of his latest album, released eight months ago: Love Falls. There was no music video, so you paused the TV and clicked on the song on your laptop’s Spotify to listen to it through your headphones.

The lyrics immediately caught your attention.

Have you cried yourself to sleep?

Have you felt this incomplete?

Have you ever cut yourself so deep to see if you still bleed?

Oh, another angsty song. Great.

Do you ever feel wanted?

Do you ever feel needed?

Do you ever feel happy?

Or are you just like me?

What the fuck is he talking about? He’s the artist of the decade! Of course he’s wanted. If there was something that pissed you off about the music industry was when artists tried to be ‘relatable’ in their songs, even if it meant portraying an image that wasn’t necessarily true.

I’m hanging by a thread, a rope, the noose around my neck

I choke, ‘cause every time I’m falling love falls out of me

Right. What about all the girls he’d been with? Every month there were pictures of him partying with someone different and- Well, actually, that was it. Partying. In your research you realized he hadn’t been in a serious relationship since… you.

I'm hardened like a rock, a stone, the brick inside my chest

Alone, 'cause every time I'm falling love falls out of me

Maybe… maybe he wasn’t trying to be relatable. Maybe he wasn’t projecting a fake image. Maybe he did feel like that.

I'll never forget the day I died

Love memories frozen and denied

Flower of my heart withered and dried

You took a very long sip of your wine and wiped your lips with your sweater’s sleeve.

Love falls out of me

And that was it. The song ended. You had gone through his entire discography, listened to every song and watched every music video. Weirdly, apart from the ones that were released when you were still together, that was the first song that made you feel something. The first one you actually enjoyed. It was a really good song, you had to admit. It was raw and vulnerable, something you hadn’t seen in one of his songs since the first two albums.

You played it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Interesting.”

Mrs. Lennox was reading your material for the interview, with a pen between two fingers, ready to cross out or add a sentence.

You were sitting on the comfy, fluffy chair in front of her table, nervously bouncing your leg as you squeezed your hands together. You hoped she liked what you had prepared because you really wanted to use it.

“Oh, I didn’t know this.” She kept reading, clearly interested. The fact that she hadn’t done any edits yet gave you hope.

A few more minutes went by, no edits, and suddenly she looked up at you. Slowly, she put the sheets of paper down and took off her red cat-eye glasses.

“I’m impressed, Y/N. You really went above and beyond on this. I’m almost certain this is the very first time I didn’t have to edit the material for an interview before approving it.”

“Does that mean…?”

“It’s approved. You can use it. As a matter of fact, you have to use it. It’s perfect!” Mrs. Lennox chuckled. “You go straight to the point and ask exactly what people want to know. Not to mention the small details you’ve picked up on! Well done. This article is going to be amazing.”

You sighed, relieved. “Thank you, Mrs. Lennox. I sure hope so.”

She smiled at you. “And I’m curious to find out the answers.”

“Honestly? Me too.”

“I know,” she nodded, still smiling. “Good thing we won’t have to wait for too long. Tomorrow is the day!”

Mrs. Lennox stood up and handed you back the papers. “You know the deal or should I recap?”

“Please, recap.”

“It’s an intimate interview, as you know. This means that the only people in the room are going to be you and him. All he has tomorrow, besides this interview, is a photoshoot for a radio station or something. It’s supposed to take place in the morning, but it’s likely that it will be extended into the afternoon. And that’s why his manager scheduled our interview for 6 p.m. A little later than our usual, I know, but she’s squeezing us in. It’s not his usual either.”

“Place?”

“His personal studio. He has something to do there after the interview, apparently. Or even during the interview, doesn’t really matter. It’ll still be just the two of you,” she paused. “You need the address?”

“No, I got it.”

“Great! I think that’s about everything.”

“Okay,” you nodded slowly, glancing at the material in your hands. “I should get back to work, then.”

“Actually, Y/N, why don’t you go home? I have nothing for you here.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You don’t have to come tomorrow either, use the day to prepare for the interview. Study the material and rock on! Oh, and don’t forget to call me before you get to the studio. I want to give you my pep talk,” she smiled.

“Sure,” you smiled back, standing up. “See you in two days, then.”

“See you, Y/N. Good luck.”

********

Love Falls by HELLYEAH

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black series #harry potter imagine #sirius black au #harry potter au #random tag

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queenmylovely · 4 years

Text

High Infidelity III

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. A fancy event with Ben leads to unforeseen cirumstances

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: cussing, Angst...

A/N: Here it is y’all, the final part of HI, this fic has really challenged me since I’m not used to writing angst and I had to have a completely different relationship with reader to write it. Since this was part of my 800 celebration, I do want to thank everyone who follows me for supporting me and especially for all the feedback I have received on this series 💖 and with this part especially please leave any feedback you have in the form of tags, replies, asks, or messages, because I really do love hearing from you!

Part I, Part II, Masterlist; BLM Resources, Register to Vote (U.S.)

(gorgeous Benny in a gif by @arthursleclerc)

💖💖💖

As the weeks went by, everything in your relationship with Ben evened out. It was like the big fight and any resulting complications had never happened. Except for the fact that the two of you were trying to be better with communication and understanding, which was great and really rewarding.

So when Ben came to you with the news that he had been invited to some fancy gala, you couldn’t have been happier to go.

“Who’ll be there? Am I going to meet any fancy celebrities?” you asked excitedly.

“You already know a fancy celebrity, you sleep next to him every night,” Ben replied, looking at you with mock hurt.

“Yeah, of course, of course. I meant any new fancy celebrities?” you changed, still wanting to hear the answer.

“Hmmm I’m not actually totally sure, but if there are a lot there, you’re probably going to have to introduce yourself because I don’t know them either,” Ben said teasingly. Then he got another look on his face, “I do think Lucy, Rami, and Gwil are going to be there though.”

You could tell Ben was nervous because him spending a lot of time with them had been part of your last fight, so you reassured him, “Don’t worry, Ben. We can definitely spend most of the time with them. I’ve been wanting to catch up with Lucy.”

“I promise not to let Gwil drag me away from you for any reason, which will be easier since Joe won’t be helping him,” Ben told you and you smiled good-naturedly, leaning in for a kiss when he did.

___

The week leading up to the event was filled with lots of trips to different stores, trying to find a suitable dress for the event. You sent pictures of options to Lucy since she had a lot of experience with such things. Finally you found one two days before the event, and luckily it didn’t need any tailoring other than wearing high heels so it wouldn’t drag. It was a black silk floor length dress that had a gathered waist and spaghetti straps that led to a neckline that was low but not too revealing where you would feel like you were on display. Once it was paired with a pair of heels you already had and some jewelry Lucy was loaning you, you knew it would be perfect.

The only thing you were unsure of was your hair. You knew how to style it in about three different ways, curled, bun, and ponytail, and none of them seemed right for the event. Looking on pinterest, you found a couple “easy” hair tutorials, but when you tried one a couple days before, you couldn’t get the right result and got increasingly frustrated.

“Ugh I just can’t get it to work,” you said in exasperation.

Ben came up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders, “Can’t get what to work?”

“My hair,” you whined, leaning your head back to rest on his stomach. “I’ve tried like five times but it just doesn’t work.”

“Why don’t you just go and get it done, or we can have someone come here,” Ben suggested easily.

“Doesn’t that seem a little frivolous?” you asked, not used to having other people do stuff like that for you.

“The whole event is frivolous, and you should feel as confident and comfortable as possible at the event. I know that they can be intimidating so if that would help, I think you should definitely do it,” Ben reasoned, looking at you through the mirror and you couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“I love you so much,” you said to him, tilting your head back even further. Ben got the hint and leaned down to kiss you, both of you laughing at the upside-down kiss.

___

The day of the event started with a small sleep in, but just until 9:00am. The two of you had breakfast and then started getting ready at 10:00am so that you wouldn’t have to rush and could relax throughout the whole day.

Sharing a shower and helping each other wash your hair and bodies eventually turned into something else, which only further helped with the relaxing.

After the shower, you put moisturizing face masks on both you and Ben and leave-in conditioner in your hair. While you were letting the masks do their work, you started on lunch together, later taking them off to eat.

You started your makeup soon after, Ben watching you in fascination and keeping you entertained with questions. When the hairdresser arrived, they got your hair in curlers and then did Ben’s quickly. Watching them work so quickly and easily convinced you that Ben had made the right choice by hiring them.

Once your hair was done and you both got dressed, it was time to go. A town car was taking you and the two of you talked excitedly about the night.

As soon as you arrived and got out of the car, there was event staff welcoming you and guiding you to the carpet where all of the photographers and reporters were. Ben asked if you wanted to be in any pictures, but you declined, more comfortable to walk around back and watch him interact with the photographers and do one or two question interviews. It was nice to see Ben having fun and laughing and you could tell that he was really enjoying himself and getting into his element.

While you were watching, you felt someone come up next to you and turned to give them a smile but what you saw made your spine run cold. It was the guy, the one that you had slept with, the one that you hadn’t given another thought to since a week after the incident.

“Hey, y/n,” he said with a knowing look. You looked closer and saw that he had a recorder in one hand and was wearing a press badge and realized he must’ve been a reporter for a smaller site or magazine. Reading the press badge, you finally got his name, Jake, though it really didn’t matter now.

When you didn’t say anything and just looked at him in shock, he continued, “Still got that boyfriend, I assume?”

To that, you nodded and he laughed wryly.

“‘Course you do. Well, next time you decide to cheat with someone, let them know that’s what they’re doing first so they can make an informed decision,” he told you derisively.

“I’m not going to--” you tried to reply, but he was already walking away. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and fixed your face as well as you could then turned back to watch Ben. You were just in time to see him find you in the crowd and then wave you over because he was done.

The two of you walked into the main event area. While you were grabbing drinks, you ran into Rami who said that Lucy and Gwil were already at a table and there were two spots saved for you.

The following hours of the event passed exactly as they were supposed to, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you reminded yourself that the press usually didn’t actually attend the event so Jake must be gone.

Once the formal activities were done, everyone was free to roam around, and there was a band that was playing music in the background, with the option of a dance floor for those who wanted.

You were having a good time with Ben and his friends, probably the best time you had ever had with them because for the first time you didn’t feel like an outsider. You thought that Ben had probably asked them to include you a little more. Part of you was a little embarrassed that they might think you were being childish, but a larger part of you was glad because you could see your friendship with all of them growing.

Gwil saw someone he knew and went to ask her to dance and Lucy and Rami decided they wanted to do the same. You suggested dancing as well, but Ben, who was not the world’s greatest dancer, said he wanted to have another drink first. Agreeing to wait at one of the high tables by the dance floor, Ben went off to the bar to get the refills.

As he was waiting for the drinks to be made, Ben watched you swaying to the music and looking at the dancers with a small smile on your face. The sight made him smile and he was content to keep watching while he waited but someone said something to him from his left.

“She’s quite the looker, huh?” the guy said and Ben noticed his press badge and name, realizing that he had met him at a couple other events.

Because he knew him, Ben thought it would be weird not to reply. So he made a face but replied, “Yeah she is.”

“She’s got a boyfriend though, or something,” Jake told him matter-of-factly.

“Yeah I--” Ben was about to say that he was actually your boyfriend but Jake cut him off.

“Wish I'd known earlier. She waited until after we hooked up to tell me. Now I just feel bad for the bloke that’s stuck with her. Thought I’d let you know so you don’t end up in the same situation,” Jake said shaking his head.

Ben hid the tsunami of dread and rage he felt upon hearing this near-stranger’s words and instead asked, “Oh that sucks, when did that happen?”

“Just a couple months ago, sucked finding out. Anyway, better take these drinks back. See you later man,” Jake clapped Ben on the shoulder and walked away.

Back by the dance floor, you were wondering what was taking so long and looked over to the bar to see Ben receiving the drinks. You smiled, ready for him to look your way and walk over with the drinks. But instead, he started walking to the exit, shooting one angry glance over his shoulder to where you were.

Confused, you were stuck in place for a moment before you started to follow him. You hurried to catch him, calling his name a couple times once you got past the bulk of the crowd. But he didn’t turn back and he’s too fast and you’re in heels. He rounded the corner to the exit and by the time you got through the doors, all you saw was a group of cars, ready to drive the guests home or wherever they were going.

Movement caught your eye as you kept walking towards the line of cars and you saw the door of a car close and then start to drive away, a frowning Ben barely visible through the back window.

Immediately, you tried to call him but he hung up on the second ring. You sent him a text asking if he’s okay and where he’s going but he didn’t even look at it which you could tell because he always has his read receipts on.

You had been moving too fast to think, but now your stomach dropped and you flagged down a car, texting Lucy to tell her you’re heading home as you slid in and told the driver the address. On the way, you tried not to panic because there were a thousand possibilities for why Ben had left. Left looking angry, without telling you, ignoring you calling his name, and not answering your calls or texts. Left from an event where you had run into Jake just hours ago. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You got home and unlocked the door, opening it slowly, not prepared for what was about to happen. Closing it behind you quietly and walking through the apartment, you could feel adrenaline rushing through your body, making it hard to breathe. You didn't find Ben until you reached your bedroom. He was on the balcony, staring over the edge and though he’s standing in place, his leg shaked.

“Ben?” he refused to look at you. You made the split decision to play innocent. “Ben what’s wrong?”

“I talked to Jake,” he said in a low voice, still staring out into the night air.

“Jake? What do you--?”

“I swear y/n, if any sort of lie comes out of your mouth that’s it. I deserve the truth and for you to respect me enough to tell me the truth,” Ben said harshly and your breath got shaky.

You rushed out, “I respect you Ben, I do.”

“How am I supposed to believe that when you fucking cheated on me?” this was when Ben turned to look at you and the mix of anger, betrayal, and despair in his eyes was enough to bring tears to yours.

“I’m sorry, I--” your voice cracked as you looked at him.

“How could you do that?” he asked loudly and you could hear the hurt in his voice.

The intensity of his searching gaze was too much to bear and you looked away as you answered, “I don’t know, you were away and I missed you and we were fighting. It felt like you were never coming back and I didn’t know what was going on with us.”

“If you weren’t sure, you should have asked. Talked to me. Not ignored all of my phone calls when I was trying to reach out to you,” Ben implored, sounding almost confused because he couldn't understand. “When was it?”

You thought about what would be the best answer. Would it make him feel better to know that it was deep into your fight or would it be worse that it was just days before he got home?

“The Friday before you came home,” you said solemnly, still not able to look at him.

Ben let out a big exhale but you couldn’t tell what he was feeling. He brought his hand to his brow like he was trying hard to remember something.

“Okay, so you weren’t just sitting at home watching tv,” he commented like he was piecing together something.

“I did do that for part of the night,” you defended, looking up to see his reaction.

“That’s not the point and you know it,” he snapped. Another moment of concentrating passed and his tone changed, “Fuck, that bruise on your hip, was that from him?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly.

Ben looked worried now, “Did he hurt you?”

Probably the worst part of yourself wanted to say yes, to run into his comforting arms and use the fact that it had gotten a little rough to serve as an excuse. But that wasn’t the truth, and it would be unforgivable to Ben and ultimately yourself to lie about something so important.

“No, well, not in any way I wasn’t okay with,” you explained, trying not to say too much.

“Wait-- you wanted him to do that? You like stuff like that?” Ben’s tone wasn’t accusing, just questioning. When you just looked away again, he knew the answer. He scoffed, “I thought we were trying to be better with communication! We’ve been together three years, why wouldn’t you tell me that? Dammit am I just not worth the truth to you?”

“Of course you are, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Maybe I was worried that you’d judge me or--”

“Three years, three years, y/n! I would never write you off for something like that. But I guess if you can’t even tell me about stuff like that, stuff that I could do for you, it makes sense why you didn’t tell me you cheated. You just don’t trust me,” Ben sounded defeated.

“No, I do trust you, I just didn’t tell you because it was never going to happen again, I didn’t want it to. It was a mistake, it didn’t mean anything. All telling you would have done was hurt you, just like it is now. I was trying to make it up to you without ever hurting you with what happened,” you rationalized, chancing a look at his face. He looked disoriented; your words made him feel lost.

“I don’t believe that. The truth is always better than a lie to me, I thought you knew that, I thought you knew me. And if you felt okay lying about it, I don’t think it’s a big step for it to happen again,” Ben ran his hands over his face and his voice was quiet now, like he was slowly accepting what had happened and what he had to do. The thought of that made you panic.

“No, no Ben, I love you and only you and you’re the only person I want to love. I promise, I promise, I promise, I love you and--and it will never happen again,” you tried to reach for Ben’s arms, but he just walked past you.

“I don’t think I can trust a word you say anymore,” he said softly, looking at his hands.

“No, Ben, Ben, I can be honest, I promise. I won’t ever lie to you again, I won’t. Please, please look at me. Look-- look at me, please, Ben I-” you were rambling now, but you would have said anything for him to turn around and take you in his arms.

Ben did turn but now his face was stone, “I’m gonna go. I’ll pack a bag for now and come back tomorrow for the rest of my stuff.”

He moved to the closet for a bag and you just stood still, frozen because you couldn’t process what was happening. Then there were tears running down your face and feeling them hit your crossed arms that were hugging your middle is what made you move again.

“No, no, Ben we can’t be over, you can’t leave. We can work on this, I’ll change. I’ll tell the truth, I promise I’ll never cheat, I never will. Please Ben, please I’ll do anything,” you knew you sounded desperate, but that was because you were, you couldn’t lose Ben after all you had done to keep him.

Ben was done packing the bag so he paused and looked at you. There was just one sliver of hope in his eye. “Was it here?”

You knew you could only answer honestly. “Yes,” then the light in his eyes was gone as he thought back to the week following his return. All of the stilted answers you had given him but he had accepted as just a little awkwardness after the fight made sense now; he knew why the sheets were gone and most likely where the lighter had come from.

“I can’t look at you, I can’t be here, without thinking about it,” he said simply. And somewhere inside you knew that was it, but the rest of you refused to accept it. “I’ll never be able to look at our bed without thinking that someone else was in it with you. I won’t be able to touch you without wondering if that’s how he touched you too. All I can think about is that I can’t understand how you would risk everything, risk our love, us, our future, compromise our home for what you say is meaningless sex. Cause to me, our love was worth everything.”

With that, Ben walked out of the bedroom. You followed him, trying to grab his arm, saying his name over and over, anything to stop him. He didn’t slow down, didn’t look back, until he got to the door and pulled it open. Even as your mind didn’t realize, your body knew he was done and your arms went slack, dropping from his. When he looked at you one last time, the anger and hurt was no longer at the forefront. What you saw in his face as he looked at you now was pity and that made you want to retch because it was so far from the love he used to look at you with.

“Goodbye, y/n, I truly do want the best for you in life,” Ben said, touching your hand softly and slowly, almost as if he was remembering all the previous times he had, briefly remembering when you loved each other with no question. Then he turned around, walked down the hallway, and out of your sight.

Holding your hand with the other, you tried to retain the feeling of his touch as long as you could. You closed the door with your shoulder and then collapsed against it, sliding until you sat. The floor no doubt dirtied your designer dress, but you couldn’t focus on anything as sobs started to wrack your body, and you didn’t even notice as your tears stained the silk.

💖💖💖

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gayenerd · 3 years

Text

This is another article I found during the internet k-hole I went into while looking for information about Adrienne’s ex-fiance, saved in a document, and now can’t find online anymore. I think it was originally featured in the Mankato Free Press, but the author apparently had a blog detailing her 2009 efforts to get in contact with Adrienne and campaign for Green Day to play in Mankato again. There’s some more interesting tidbits about the Mankato punk scene and an interview with Adrienne there.

Campaign Green Day: Reflection

By Amanda Dyslin

Free Press Features Editor

June 10, 2009 11:29 pm

— It was dark in the middle of the southern Minnesota countryside, somewhere by St. Peter in the summer of 1992.

On a farm with a barn and not much else, there was one light pole casting a shallow glow on three guys standing atop 6-foot wide, 5-foot tall wire spools — a makeshift stage to gain high ground over 200 or so people watching. Next to them was a big, old, beat-up beast of a car pulled up by the owner so 15 or so people could stand on top and gain a better view. One of them had a video camera.

Ben Gruber, then a sophomore at Loyola High School, was there. In fact, he and a buddy had helped haul equipment for the band, and even gave the drummer, Tre Cool, a ride before the show in Mankato. The music was good, he said. A lot more polished than other punk bands he’d seen in Mankato.

He was aware of the five-year-old band, born in Berkeley, Calif., he said. They’d put out a couple of smaller recordings, including their full-length debut “39/Smooth” on Lookout! Records. But they were two years from their breakthrough record, “Dookie,” which would have pretty much everyone at the show that night in awe of what they had experienced — maybe one of the last stripped down, small-scale punk shows Green Day would ever perform.

Mankato punk

The Libido Boyz are often considered the anchor of the Mankato punk scene in the late 1980s/early 1990s. It was a time when the city was rich with garage and basement punk bands, drummer Chad Sabin said before a reunion show in 2007. PSD and Plain Truth were a couple of other bands that got a lot of attention at the time.

Marti’s All Ages Music, located where the Vietnamese restaurant Tonn is now on Front Street, was an open building with a bathroom and a couple of booths where kids could put on shows. A couple of bands went on to the big time after playing there. The Offspring was one of them.

Many claimed having heard of friends who had seen Green Day play at Marti’s. According to a former talent booker, the closest Green Day ever came to playing the venue was when frontman Billie Joe Armstrong and his girlfriend, Adrienne Nesser, walked in and left right after The Offspring’s set in 1994. Marti’s tried to get Green Day to play the venue numerous times, but it was way too small for even the moderate level of fame they’d already gained pre-“Dookie.” Marti’s had the same trouble with the punk band Fugazi.

“It was pretty much no frills,” Gruber said. “There wasn’t much to do there.”

The bulk of the punk scene was made up of high school and college-age punk-rockers who would play anywhere, Sabin said. Like a lot of kids at the time, the Libido Boyz just wanted to play loud, chaotic music, which also is what people seemed to want to hear. Kids would cram into basements for concerts or listen outside garages.

“On any given week or weekend, there would be a show with anywhere from two to 10 bands playing,” Gruber said. “There was a really good crop of musician-age kids who were into (punk) for a while (before) grunge became very popular.”

During the next few years, the Libido Boyz got big. They played in the Cities and toured the state and eventually started playing shows across the country, including New York and San Francisco. Out West is where they met Green Day, who would become the biggest punk band to come through Mankato.

“They were just dirty punks like us,” Sabin said.

Former Libido Boyz bassist Dave Begalka said they played punk shows with Green Day from time to time while on tour. Mike Dirnt, Green Day bassist, actually did Begalka a big favor once when they played a show in Cleveland together.

Some of Begalka’s bass gear went missing, and a couple of months later he saw Dirnt when they both were playing shows in the California Bay Area. Turns out, the bass gear was mixed up with Dirnt’s equipment that night, and he’d been keeping it safe for him the whole time.

“I thought that was just downright a swell thing to do,” Begalka said. “As I recall, I think we couch surfed at Billy Joe’s that night. ... By the way, I still use the lost guitar strap that went around the U.S. with Green Day.”

The Libido Boyz and Green Day crossed paths in another way as well, through Adrienne, who was a student at Minnesota State University and living in Mankato.

The first lady

Adrienne (Nesser) Armstrong, now 39, was born in Minneapolis and started at MSU in the late 1980s, graduating with the class of 1994 with a degree in sociology.

She met Billie Joe on Green Day’s first tour in 1990. Some report it was a show at First Ave in Minneapolis, and she is quoted at greenday.net as saying only about 10 people were there. She asked Billie Joe where she could get a copy of the band’s CD, and the two hit it off.

While on tour, Billie Joe kept in contact with Adrienne by phone. Their first kiss inspired an early Green Day song, “2,000 Light Years Away.” Their relationship caused Billie Joe to arrange two tours around Minnesota so they could see each other, a relationship which lasted about a year and a half.

Although it’s unclear, witnesses who saw Billie Joe and Adrienne around Mankato during that time say the reason Green Day played shows in the area at all was simply because she was here. The shows weren’t a part of any tour, but rather impromptu ways to pass to the time.

The relationship fizzled after they decided the distance was too much of a strain. Adrienne got engaged to Billy Bisson, the frontman of Libido Boyz, the following year. Reports differ from either side, with some saying the relationship dissolved on its own. Bisson has been quoted as saying Billie Joe stole her away.

While in Mankato, Adrienne worked at various places, including the Piercing Pagoda in the River Hills Mall and Pagliai’s Pizza, and is described by those who knew her as a beautiful punk rock girl who everybody had a crush on.

Cheryl Rueda, manager of Pagliai’s, worked with Adrienne and three of the Libido Boyz at the restaurant when Adrienne was dating Bisson. Adrienne also babysat for Cheryl’s kids.

“She was a beautiful girl,” Rueda said. “I think the world of her. She was just a regular person.”

Thursday nights Adrienne babysat for Cheryl’s two kids, Andre and Marisa, who were about 3 and 6 at the time. She would often have a craft project or activity to do to keep them entertained. She even took them out trick-or-treating during a blizzard one year.

“She was their favorite babysitter,” she said.

Carrie Zempel Heise worked with her at a bar called The Jungle, now Dutler’s Bowl.

“I ran into her after the bar had closed down (she was working at Pier 1 Imports), and she told me she was moving out West soon,” Zempel said. “Months later, word got back that she had married Billie Joe, and then the next thing I saw was an interview with him in Rolling Stone magazine talking about his pregnant wife!”

When Adrienne finished school, Billie Joe convinced her to move to California and marry him. Rueda said it happened so fast it seemed she was gone over night. Before she left, she and friends had a big garage sale, said Amy Lennartson of Eagle Lake. She and Lennartson originally had plans to move to San Francisco together and open a business.

“She headed West that May, and I stayed over the summer to finish up my time at MSU,” Lennartson said. “Then, in true rock star fashion, I returned home from a Fourth of July vacation to a wedding invitation from Adrienne — to a wedding that had already happened.”

The wedding took two weeks to plan and happened in five minutes July 2, 1994, in Billie Joe’s backyard, according to the VH1 “Behind the Music” documentary. “We didn’t think about it, we just did it,” Adrienne said.

Protestant, Catholic and Jewish vows were exchanged because neither had a religion. The honeymoon took place 10 minutes from Billie Joe’s house at the Claremont Hotel. The day after the wedding, Adrienne found out she was pregnant.

The couple has two sons, Joseph Marciano, 14, and Jakob Danger, 10.

Adrienne now co-owns Adeline Records in Oakland, Calif., and Adeline Street clothing line. She works with the Natural Resources Defense Council, and co-owns Atomic Garden, an eco-friendly clothing and home goods store.

There is at least one friend in Mankato Adrienne is reported to keep in contact with. But said friend — whose basement Green Day was reported to have played in and who reportedly visited the Armstrongs in California — wasn’t eager to talk about it.

Rueda kept in contact with Adrienne for a while. Adrienne would send the Rueda kids Green Day T-shirts and things. She also sent a family photo to the Ruedas years ago. When Adrienne’s first son was 1 1/2, she came back to Mankato to visit and Rueda saw them. She was the same person she had always been, Rueda said.

A few years ago, Adrienne asked a friend in Mankato to go to the Ruedas’ house and videotape the kids so she could see how much they had grown up. Otherwise, the Ruedas haven’t heard from her since.

Big time

The night Green Day played St. Peter, the original plan was for them to play at someone’s house behind where Casey’s is now on Lee Boulevard in North Mankato.

Two local bands went on first. But the cops came and broke it up because of the noise. Gruber and his buddy offered to drive equipment and Tre Cool to a house on Fifth Street in Mankato, where somebody had offered up their basement. But the band took one look and said it was way too small.

That’s when a girl whose family lived off Hwy. 99 near St. Peter offered her place.

“This whole caravan of cars ended up driving out to her place,” Gruber said.

It was too hot to play in the barn. Gruber suggested the guys make a mini stage out of the wire spools, which they thought was pretty punk rock, even commenting on that stage and show later on a bootleg recording, he said.

Gruber said he later recognized songs such as “Welcome to Paradise” off of “Dookie” that they played that night — the night most people look to as the epitome of nostalgia when it comes to Green Day’s presence in Mankato. People still go to YouTube to check out the nine or so minutes of footage from that concert, despite being out of focus, jittery and too dark to see much.

“Took me back,” Gruber said of watching the footage. “That guy filming, he was probably standing right next to me and my friends.”

A couple of hundred people have similar memories from that night, having accidentally stumbled upon a concert that would become local legend. None of them could possibly have imagined what Green Day would become.

“Dookie,” released in 1994 — which followed 1992’s “Kerplunk,” having sold 50,000 copies — sold more than 10 million copies in the U.S. That album, along with those of The Offspring and Rancid, is credited for reviving mainstream interest in punk music, and it won Best Alternative Album at the Grammy Awards.

Future albums, “Insomniac” and “Nimrod,” went double platinum, and “Warning” went gold. None of them reached the level of success of “Dookie.”

But 2004’s punk rock opera “American Idiot” changed everything. Debuting at No. 1 and selling five million copies, critics absolutely drooled over it. “American Idiot” won Best Rock Album at the 2005 Grammys and swept the MTV Video Music Awards.

“Boulevard of Broken Dreams” spent 16 weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard Modern Rock Tracks chart and won the Grammy for Record of the Year. During the band’s 150-date tour in support of the album, they drew crowds of 130,000 people over two days in the United Kingdom.

The band’s new album, “21st Century Breakdown,” was released worldwide May 15 and received rave reviews. Last week the band played “The Tonight Show” with Conan O’Brien.

Their world tour kicks off in July, with the Minneapolis show at the Target Center July 11.

#daslfhasdlfkha imagine staying on the couch of a guy who wrote a sappy love song about your gf/fiancee #articles #Green Day #article #interview #babe-drienne #billie joe armstrong

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