#yuck it up whatever moving ON i am HOT and FUNNY and definitelygoingtohavetoretakeatleastoneexam and HOT

[galadrieljones]

As You Were (Chapter 11)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Found Family, Joel Lives | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

Summary:

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret, filled with painful memories and reminders of the past. But they aren’t alone. When they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival on their family farm, things finally start to take a new shape, altering the course of their lives in irrevocable ways. In the end, for those with little hope to spare, family is what you make it.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second.

*chapter specific cw: mention of suicide, depression

Chapter 11: Interlude II (The Ark)

That night, they sat up in the crow's nest, on separate bean bags, looking at their hands. Noah had wanted to take inventory of his books to decide which he was going to bring with him on the road, and which he was going to leave behind. But it felt weird now that he was up there, and pointless, and sad. Everything he knew, he would have to leave behind, and he would never see it again. Everything. They would have to board up the house, post signs on the electric fence. CONTAMINATED WATER. DO NOT DRINK. They should probably burn it all down, but his mother would not allow that. It was her childhood home, too. They would seal it up instead as a tomb and maybe in 100 years when the spores died or the mushrooms got burnt out the river by somebody with the means to do so, an enterprising explorer would come to this lonely region, discover their farm and read it like hieroglyphics on the wall, stories from another time. He would look at Noah's stack of books and think, What a discovery. What a thing to behold.

Danielle sat very still, as was her default setting. But she was also picking at her thumbnail, compulsively. She was not wearing her prayer kapp anymore. She still had her hair braided tightly to her head, but she had taken off her kapp. Noah knew some things about Amish by then, and he knew the different types of kapps and bonnets and their meanings. Usually, when she was away from home she would wear a black bonnet over her white kapp, because she was unmarried. But she didn't have the black bonnet today, only the white kapp, and she had only ever removed her head covering in front of him one other time that Noah could remember, and it was when they were thirteen years old and it had been so hot, they ran through the sprinkler and she took off the kapp for just one moment while she fixed her braids.

"What's wrong?" said Noah. He was deciding between The Road and Blood Meridian. He chose The Road, stuffed it in his backpack.

"Nothing," said Danielle. She had followed him up there without him knowing. She was quiet as a mouse. When she appeared, he was surprised, but it was okay. He didn't feel like being alone.

"Why are you biting your nails."

"I was just having a bad thought," she said. "You know. How it's over. Our lives, as we knew them once, they are over. My mom, and your dad. The land we knew and that raised us. All of it, gone, and now we too must be gone."

The way she talked sometimes, with her formal words and slight accent, it was foreign to Noah in a mythical way. "Yeah," said Noah.

She got up then, from the bean bag chair. She looked around. She picked up some of the books to read the summary on the back, then she set them back down again.

"Anything you want, you can have," he said. "Take whatever."

"Like what would I take?"

"Any of my books. I have a lot of comics inside, too."

She found this to be funny for some reason, smiled with her cheeks getting red. "Ha ha."

"What's funny?"

"Where are your guitars?" she said then, out of nowhere, like she was suddenly taken off guard. "I haven't been up here in a while. Where'd they go?"

"I burned them," said Noah, staring at her.

She gave him a long, disappointed look and shook her head. "All of them?"

"Yes."

"You shouldn't have did that, Noah."

Sometimes, he felt legitimately like a crazy person, like an imposter. Perhaps he would have been better off on his own. "I know," he said.

She came and sat down beside him then. He had to move over to give her room. The bean bag chair crinkled beneath them and molded around their bodies. She turned to him. She looked right at him. She framed his face with her palms, touching them to his cheeks. Her hands were cold. "I'm eighteen now," she said.

"I know," said Noah. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

"Don't worry," she said. "I just, I have hope that my family and my life will find a new hope, do you?"

"I guess," said Noah.

"I'm going to miss you though," said Danielle. "So much. You can't know. You and your guitars. You gave me a good escape place, all my life, and you and your family were always so important to us."

"I'll miss you, too," he said, shrugging. He felt he had little left to give her. "I'm sorry about everything, Danielle. Everything sucks."

"It does," she continued. "But also, there is one thing that doesn't suck, which is I can make a choice, right now."

"Which choice?" said Noah.

She kissed him. It was simple and warm. She was like a shepherd, guiding him in. When they parted, she looked sad. This was not the first time they had kissed, but it had been a long time. A flood had come between them. It drowned much more than the hills.

"Why did you do that?" he said.

"Because I wanted to," she said. "I'm sorry. I should have asked first."

"It's okay," he said. He tucked one small, loose strand of yellow hair behind her ear. In truth, it had made him happy. For just one moment, it lifted him out of the dirt.

She looked out the window. She folded her hands in her lap demurely. She had freckles on her knuckles and her wrists. She smelled like clean laundry. Being close to her, it made him want more, but it would never happen, nor should it happen, and this he knew, so he put his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes.

"What was that song you played again, that one time?" said Danielle. "Like two years ago, when we were out here, and it was like, almost fall, just like this? I remember it was getting colder, but the frost still had not come. Take me over?”

"Take On Me," said Noah. "It was just some live version off one of my dad's records. MTV Unplugged or something."

"What's MTV Unplugged?"

"I don't know," said Noah. "Something from a million years ago. Joel probably knows. We could go inside and listen to it, if you want. You could ask him."

"Okay," she said, smiling. "Let's do that."

Inside, Cici had gone upstairs, to bed. Joel was sitting on the couch alone, drinking whiskey, and listening to more Ryan Adams on the record player. When Noah and Danielle first came inside, Noah was sort of embarrassed. He didn't know why. But Joel didn't make any sort of fuss about them. He didn't call attention, nor did he ask questions. He said hello to Danielle and told Noah he would get out of his hair.

"It's okay," said Noah. "We were just gonna listen to music anyway."

"What is this?" said Danielle. She had reassembled her kapp, on her head. She was only comfortable removing it around Noah. "This is a sad song."

"It's a song called Sylvia Plath," said Joel. "This album was released the day before my 17th birthday."

"Wow," said Danielle. "It must mean a lot to you."

"Well, I haven't heard it in a while," said Joel. "But hearing it again, now, yes it does bring me back."

"Do you know what MTV Unplugged is?" said Danielle.

Joel looked at Noah, who was looking down at his boots. He had his backpack over one shoulder, looking a little lost, a wanderer. Joel set down his whiskey, listening to the song. He said, "MTV Unplugged was on TV, a lot of years ago. Why you asking?"

"Noah knows a song. He played it once, on his guitar, from MTV Unplugged."

"His guitar?"

"Yes," said Danielle. She became embarrassed then, like she had done something wrong. She looked at Noah and then she looked down at her hands, folded into the front of her dress. Noah was looking off somewhere else, flexing his jaw. Something seemed to be going on, something that Joel wasn't privy to. Didn't matter.

"Well, okay," said Joel, ignoring the tension in the room. "You, uh, familiar with TV, Danielle?"

"Yes," said Danielle. "Noah has told me about it."

"Well, MTV Unplugged was just like, live studio recordings of musicians that were popular at the time. A live studio recording meant like, it was unproduced. Or, I don't know. They just played their instruments in a room, in front of people. No multiple takes, no effects or anything like that. Real stripped down. There were some pretty important recordings, back in those days. Some artists, it was a huge deal for them to get on MTV Unplugged."

"Thanks," said Danielle. "I suppose that makes sense?"

"Maybe," said Joel. “I don’t know what makes sense anymore.”

"You guys are up?" said Ellie. She was yawning, coming down the stairs in her PJs. "What the hell?"

"Don't worry," said Joel. "You didn't miss anything. And I was just about to head up myself."

"What are we listening to?" she said, totally ignoring him. She came into the living room and picked up the vinyl sleeve off the coffee table. "Ryan Adams. Gold. You sure like this guy, don't you, Joel?"

Joel sighed.

"Who's Sylvia Plath?"

"What am I, an encyclopedia?”

"Yes, actually," she said, plopping down on the couch next to him. She picked up his glass, sniffed it, and made a face. "Yuck."

"Sylvia Plath was a poet, right?" said Noah. "Didn't she kill herself?"

"She was a poet, yes," said Joel. "And yes, she did...commit suicide."

"Jesus," said Ellie, sinking into the cushions. She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. "That's sad."

"Why did she take her own life?" said Danielle.

"I don't know," said Joel, resigned to his cause now, and outnumbered. "I guess she was unhappy. Or something. She had a rough marriage? Major depression. Ryan Adams, he had a lot of depression, too. Maybe he wrote this song to cope with all that."

"Music is a gift," said Danielle. "To think that his means of coping could become a song as beautiful as this. Perhaps it is a curse."

They all sat, staring at the record player. Joel got up and took the needle off the record. "Time for bed," he said.

"Come on," said Ellie. "I just got down here."

"Well, that was a mistake," said Joel. "Everybody, to bed. It's late."

With his sleeping bag unrolled in the living room that night, and the lamps turned down low, Noah listened to the song Sylvia Plath on repeat and thought about his life and all that had taken place, from the moment he realized he was alive, up to now, sitting alone on the floor in his living room in front of the fire, imagining himself in another scenario, far away in time and space, in which things were normal, or better, or safe. He envied Joel, in a way. Noah didn't know a better life, and he never would. That is how he felt, and what was meant by his sadness in the crow's nest. That is how he had been feeling for over a year, since his dad died, and the people he knew were all gone, and there were no more delusions, no more pastoral dreams where he could ignore the dying world in which he was born. He was now grown and he would have to go straight to it, make it his own. And Danielle would be okay, because she was not the same as him. She was bright and free and she trusted in god to carry her home, and whether that was bullshit or not, it didn't matter. People believe in the thing that they think will save them. Noah just didn't know what to believe. He was doing his best to follow his heart.

And she and I would sleep on a boat And swim in the sea without clothes With rain falling fast on the sea While she was swimming away, she'd be winking at me Telling me it would all be okay Out on the horizon and fading away And I'd swim to the boat and I'd laugh

Ellie came back downstairs a couple minutes later, wired and unable to sleep. When he looked out the window, the moon had finally revealed itself from behind the clouds. It was big and white and full. At first Ellie just said hello and then she was walking around the room, looking at all the different things on the shelves and hanging on the walls, like she was in a museum. She was looking at the paintings, most of them unframed. She said, "Did your dad make these? They're all signed with a W. His name was William, right?"

"Yeah," said Noah. "His name was William, and yeah, he painted all those."

"Wow," said Ellie. "He was really good. These are amazing."

The paintings were mostly landscapes and livestock. There were some of Cici, some of Noah, but they were like, impressions. They were blurred into the background, just blinks of color against the green. "What's your last name?" said Noah. "I was just wondering."

"My last name?" said Ellie. She smiled. She said, "Uh, Williams, I guess. Weirdly enough. That's the second time someone's asked me that in the past like, day." She came and sat down on the floor next to him, resting her elbows on her knees. "What's yours?"

"Santos," said Noah.

"Noah Santos," said Ellie. She looked down at her thumbs. She was sticking them both up for some reason, pressing her knuckles together. "So, uh. What's up with you and Danielle, Noah Santos? You guys a thing or something?"

"Not really," said Noah. He looked directly at her. His eyes were kind of dark and big, but they weren't as dark up close as they looked from far away. "Not anymore. We're just friends.” He took a huge, deep breath then, and Ellie could tell there was a lot more but that he just didn't feel like talking about it.

"Well," she said. "Friends are pretty great, too."

"Yeah, they're okay," said Noah.

They both smiled.

"I had a friend once," she said. "A long time ago. Her name was Riley."

”How’d you guys meet?”

”School. Or, jail. Whatever you wanna call it.”

"Where's Riley now?" said Noah.

Ellie looked at the fire, big and bright, like a carousel. "It's a long story. But she's gone."

Noah hung his head and looked down at the woodgrain in the floor. He said, "I'm sorry. I'm a dick."

"It's okay," said Ellie, nodding to herself, trying to be peppy. She didn't want to be sad that night. She wanted to be positive, and alert. Joel and Noah were back. They were heading out soon, on the road again. There was hope. “You're not a dick. And it’s all gonna be okay, don’t you think?”

"I hope so," he said.

Ellie’s optimism was contagious, and perhaps that’s why she felt like home to so many who lie awake in the night, thinking more about the past than the future. She lived close to the edge of her worth, it's true. She wanted to believe that there was a reason, for all of this. That there was a purpose, a meaning, behind why she kept on living while all the other people she cared about died. Riley, Tess, Henry, Sam. But she hid volumes. She did it all to help her friends stay afloat. But it wouldn't last forever. She was only one girl.

When they drove away from the farm, they did not want. The wind shook the trees, which were turning colors in the late September light. Danielle waved at Noah, standing between her father and her brother on the lawn.

It was two trucks to Moline, Joel and Ellie out front, headed for the I-80. "Here goes nothing," said Cici. She was driving, stone-faced. It was done. They had lost this place long before. It belonged to the dead now. She took Noah's hand as they escaped.

***

On the record player:

“Sylvia Plath” by Ryan Adams

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #joel miller #ellie williams #joel tlou #ellie tlou #as you were #joel x cici #update!!!!

[shootwinterfest]

Body Works

Shoot Secret Santa Gift by @maybesomedaysameen

Root glanced over her shoulder surreptitiously as she pretended to reorganize the incense holders. Part of her job at Bath and Body Works was keeping an eye on customers and Root had no problem keeping an eye on this one. The short girl from her Calculus II class was lurking in the candle aisle, smelling things intently. Her name was Sameen Shaw. They sat on the same side of the lecture hall but had never spoken before. She was very hot, but unfortunately, she had a boyfriend; some axe body spray wearing douchebag.

She’d had been wandering around smelling candles for almost an hour. She’d even picked up a basket on the way in, but hadn’t put anything in it. Normally, Root would have chalked it up to a college student trying to de-stress, but the girl was dressed all in black. The ski cap and heavy coat weren’t particularly suspicious; it was two weeks before Christmas after all and New York was freezing in the winter. Still, she practically screamed ‘I’m trying to be inconspicuous’ and ‘I barely know what a candle is.’

It wasn’t a particularly large Bath and Body Works, so Root was keeping her distance. This was only a part time job, so she didn’t really care if Sameen stole anything. This was just the only entertainment she’d had all day. Despite it being the week before Christmas, the store had been pretty dead. Root would have given Sameen her focus even if it had been busy.

Sameen was hot, but she was also smart and that was definitely a turn on. Root had looked at her grades online. Their school’s system had been so easy to hack into and Root had access to pretty much everything. That included Sameen’s arrest record. It was only a couple minor thefts in high school and a fight at the bar on campus. Nothing that would put Root off.

Root glanced over her shoulder again, but Sameen was gone. She looked around the area, not seeing her anywhere. Quickly moving to her last location, Root spotted her across the aisle in the soap section, beginning her smell regimen again. Apparently, she’d exhausted the candle options.

Wondering why she was going through such an intense deliberation, Root leaned against a shelf and watched as Sameen held two soaps in her hand, looking between the two. Carefully, she held one and then the other under her nose. It was almost funny how long this decision was taking her. Maybe she was buying a gift for someone special. Root wrinkled her nose at the thought of Sameen buying something for her boyfriend to smell.

Sameen started to put one of the soaps into her basket and hesitated. Shaking her head, she put it back on the shelf and dropped the other soap in. She looked over the shelf again and took the soap back out of her basket again, placing it back in its spot. Root rolled her eyes and headed towards her.

“Hello!” she greeted, trying to sound enthusiastic. She stopped an appropriate distance away. “Can I help you with something?”

Sameen tensed and looked at her, her eyes widening in surprise. She clearly recognized Root. Looking away, she crossed her arms. “No.”

“Ok,” Root said, a little caught off guard. Sameen definitely needed help. She decided to be direct. “Are you here to steal something?”

Sameen’s eyebrows shot up, insulted. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you’re wearing all black and you’ve been here for almost an hour without buying something. That’s kind of suspicious.”

“If I was stealing something, I would have left after 30 seconds.”

Root smirked. “Good point.”

Sameen took a step forward, forcing Root to back up or get hit. “I’m trying to pick out something that smells good. I’d be out of here a lot faster if you actually sold anything that smelled nice.”

Root laughed. “You would know if we sold anything that smelled good. I mean, you’ve smelled everything.”

Scowling, Shaw dropped her basket on the floor dramatically. “I’m leaving.”

She started walking toward the door and Root sighed, scooping up the basket. “I was just teasing! Take your time. I like having something nice to look at.”

“Whatever.” She glared at Root, but she took the basket back. Her eyes ran over Root’s body, lingering on the way her half-apron accentuated her waist. Meeting Root’s eyes again, she smiled dangerously. “Since you’re so eager to talk, you can give me a hand.”

“I would love to give you a hand,” Root said, putting her hands on her hips. “Where should I put it?”

“Wow,” Sameen snorted. “You’re not even subtle.”

“Oh, sorry.” Root widened her eyes, putting on her most innocent expression. She let her body tense like she was shy, the act of pretending coming easily to her. “I don’t know anything about flirting, and I’ve never even been kissed! I didn’t even notice that you checked me out!”

Sameen glared at her, but the curve of her lips gave away her amusement. “Uh huh. Can you just help me find something that smells good? I don’t have all day.”

Smiling, Root dropped the act, her body relaxing. “Sure can do. What kind of good smell are you looking for?”

“Some shit a girl would like,” Sameen replied with a shrug.

“Shouldn’t you know? You’re a girl.” Root took a step back and obviously checked her out. “A pretty hot girl.”

Another smile tugged at Sameen’s lips, and Root knew she was winning her over. Sameen could put on an annoyed act, but she hadn’t walked out of the store yet. In fact, she took a step toward Root, her basket dangling from her fingers.

“Do you flirt with all the girls that come in here?”

Root winked. “Just the cute ones.”

Chuckling, Sameen gestured with her basket. “Ok, Root. Show me some good smells.”

“You know my name?” Root asked, surprised. They’d never spoken before. Sameen did look at her a lot in class, though. She thought she was sneaky, but Root noticed. Maybe she was thinking about dumping her boyfriend and playing for the other team. “I know your name, too. Sameen.”

She winced. “Call me Shaw. No one calls me Sameen.”

Root pouted, but she led the way back to the soap aisle. “So, how did you learn my name?”

“You talk in class constantly,” Shaw answered. “The teacher says your name so much, I’d have to be an idiot not to know it by now.”

Smirking, Root twirled a strand of hair around her finger, watching the way Shaw’s eyes focused on it. “The teacher calls on me, but she doesn’t use the right name. How do you know I go by ‘Root’?”

Shaw flushed, her excuse falling through. They reached the soap aisle and she snatched a bar of the shelf. “I must have seen something on Facebook. Look, are you going to help me, or not? Isn’t that your whole job?”

“I don’t think I believe you, but I’ll let it go.” Root pushed herself off the shelf and turned to face it. “Are you interested in boys or girls?”

“Excuse me?”

Root grinned, leaning closer. “Who are you shopping for? A man or a woman?”

Her eyes narrowing, Shaw didn’t move away. She leaned in, too, her coat brushing against Root’s arm. “A woman.”

“Anyone I know?”

Shaw glared at her for a second longer before shaking her head, a teasing smile tugging at full lips. “No. She’s not in our class.”

Raising an eyebrow, Root tore her eyes away, turning to the shelf of soaps. “I’m surprised you aren’t buying something for your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Shaw repeated, distastefully. “You mean Tomas? He’s a good time, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

Root smiled to herself, pretending to look for a soap. “So, a girlfriend then. She’s a lucky woman.”

Groaning, Shaw shifted her basket from one hand to the other. “Just ask if I’m single. I am, by the way. I’m not really the dating type.”

“Me neither,” Root murmured, tossing her hair over her shoulder and meeting Shaw’s eyes. “I don’t need a relationship to be satisfied.”

Shaw gave her a knowing look before glancing down at the bar of soap in her hand. “Glorious Morning.” She sniffed it and pretended to gag. “Yuck. Smells like my grandmother.”

Taking it from her, Root looked at the ingredients. “Hyacinth and lavender. So, we know those are bad. Hmm.” She traded the bar for another. “How about this?”

Shaw reached out a hand for it, waiting for Root to put it on her palm. She curled her fingers, brushing them against Root as she moved the bar to her nose. Her eyes met Root’s, dark and mysterious. The look made heat pool in Root’s stomach, and she had to take a breath and compose herself.

“Ew, no,” Shaw muttered. “Midnight Terrace? What the fuck kind of names are these?” She turned the bar of soap over. “Lilac and Honey. It’s too much.”

Root laughed as she tossed the bar onto the shelf. “Ok, picky. Well, what kind of stuff does this girl like?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.” Shaw put her basket on the floor. “I… haven’t talk to her before.”

Root froze as she put the pieces together. Shaw already knew her name, she was buying something for a girl she’d never talked to, and she’d been flirting with Root this whole time. Licking her lips, Root held back a grin, nodding seriously instead.

“I see.” She put the bar of soap back and wandered down the aisle to the lotions. “If I was getting a gift from someone, that implied a lot of intimate contact, I think I’d prefer lotion over soap. It’s more versatile.”

“Interesting.” Shaw casually followed after her, sticking her hands in her pockets. “You wouldn’t want to be… intimate in the shower?”

Root lifted an eyebrow playfully. “I’m more than willing to be intimate in the shower. I just like lotion, because it because it gives you an excuse to really work someone’s body.”

Shaw nodded thoughtfully, her cheeks turning a soft red. She stepped into Root’s personal space and acted like she was perusing the bottles. “I do like to work bodies. Although, I usually get complaints that I’m too rough.”

“Really?” Root breathed, her heartbeat quickening. “I think a good massage should be a little rough. If it doesn’t leave you sore, what’s the point?”

“I agree.” Shaw glanced at her again. “Which lotion does your boyfriend buy you?”

Root laughed loudly, Shaw’s question surprising it out of her. The idea of dating a boy was hilarious. She had never liked a boy in her life, and she honestly forgot about them if they weren’t around. Brushing her hair from her face, Root grinned at Shaw.

“I’m single,” she said, still chuckling, “and I only like girls. No one buys me lotion, Shaw. I buy it myself and use it with anyone I want.”

Reaching for a bottle, Shaw hesitated. She let her hand fall heavily onto the shelf and then looked up at Root. “You know I’m buying this for you, right? Like, you got that?”

“Oh, I got it.”

“Well, then, just pick something, so I can buy it and we can go use it.”

Frowning, Root gestured to the store around them. “I’m in the middle of my shift. I can’t just leave the store four days before Christmas.  I’d get fired.”

Shaw hesitated, awkwardly stepping away. “Oh. Right. I guess-“

“I’m totally fucking with you,” Root said, grinning. “Let me close up.”

She started walking away, but remembered herself and went back to where Shaw was still standing, staring after her. Grabbing Shaw’s shoulders, she shoved her into the shelves, knocking over the perfectly lined bottles of lotions. Shaw only had the chance to look surprised for a second before Root’s mouth covered her own, their bodies pressing together.

Shaw’s hands found Root’s waist instantly, pulling her even closer. Her mouth was demanding against Root, insistent and aggressive. It made Root melt in her arms, ready for even more. She wished Shaw could rip her clothes off right here and take her on the floor, but there were cameras everywhere and Root didn’t want the extra work to delete the footage.

She pulled herself away before she could change her mind. “I’ll be right back,” she panted into Shaw’s mouth. “If we go to my place, I’ve got plenty of stuff we can use.  Everything I own smells good.”

“What if I want to buy you something?” Shaw asked, her eyes half-closed and mouth half-open.

Root kissed her again, sinking her teeth into Shaw’s lower lip until she groaned. “You can buy me dinner later. We’ll need the energy.”

Shaw’s hands untied Root’s apron and threw it aside. She tugged up Root’s shirt, her hands spreading over soft skin. “What do I get out of this?”

“Hmm,” Root hummed against her lips. “I’m going to make this the best Christmas you’ve ever had. If you’re really nice, I’ll let you stay ‘til New Year’s.”

“Don’t worry,” Shaw said, digging her nails into Root’s hips. “I’m always nice.”

“Too bad.” Root pulled herself away, swiping her apron off the floor, and heading for the break room. “I prefer my women to on the naughty list.”

#shoot secret santa #root x shaw

[sionnables]

So… 

Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist, you guys.  

Let me explain something first: the Broadway musical First Date is my SHOW.  I mean, it’s NOT-- I had no part in the creation or performance of it, obviously.  But it’s “mine” in the way that people tend to take possession of things they like, you know? 

“That’s my song!” 

“That’s my precious fictional baby!”

Or, I guess, like that weird thing sports fans do when they insert themselves into their favorite team, like, “we need to box out the endzone and get some points on the board” or whatever.

First Date is mine not only because I loved it, but because it felt like the creators reached into my heart, plucked out all my experiences and emotions, and put them up on stage.  I mean, it went to TATTOO LEVELS, so you know it’s both serious and a little ridiculous. 

 Six years later, I still fucking love that show. 

(The intensity has gone down a bit, but that’s probably the best for everyone.)

So when I happened to find out that the book writer of First Date was the creator/writer of Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist AND it was a musical, I obviously wanted to check it out.  It was delayed slightly by a deep-dive into a Schitt’s Creek hyper-fixation (David and Patrick can have my entire heart and, like, overall existence), but I finally started watching a few days ago.

And it is delightfully First-Date-y.

It’s also a really good “I can’t handle anything too sad or heavy right now due to reality” option.  There’s some romantic angst and family tragedy thrown in, but it’s not like This Is Us: The Musical or anything (thank christ-- seriously, how does anyone watch that show? It’s Ugly Cry Central over there).

I’m not going to do the plot summary thing because Google exists.  But here’s the thing: yes, there are multiple tropes here that have been done to death (*cough*lovetriangle*cough*), but you know what? The show is cute, the cast is really talented, and the writing’s pretty effing funny. I don’t need groundbreaking television to be entertained. And I’m a sucker for “nice comedy” nowadays, you know? Like, I could never get into Glee because the characters were HORRIBLE to each other. I can’t do a show full of selfish, mean people, it just doesn’t work for me.  Give me a well-written ensemble comedy where everyone messes up but they’re ultimately trying their best and growing, and I’m pretty much in.

That all being said, here’s what I need to discuss (spoilers ahead, obviously):

1) Zoey’s definitely got that whole Zooey-Deschanel-adorkable thing going on, but you have to appreciate a show that is like, “STEM Women FTW!” because we need that.  Also, maybe it’s Fellow Millennial Empathy, but I appreciate that she has no idea what she’s doing and is still trying so hard to be a functioning and successful adult, WHILE dealing with family tragedy, AND sudden musical powers, AND being a woman in charge of a department full of men (girl, been there done that), AND confusing mushy feelings. It helps that Jane Levy is so talented that I was convinced she was British (she is not).

2) Mo. Is. Everything.  More representation of gender-fluidity is wonderful to see, for one thing. But he’s also the smartest character on the show, as well as the most well-balanced and emotionally mature.  And his VOICE, okay? I love that it seems like Mo is going to sort of be Zoey’s guide through all of this, and I’m looking forward to seeing their friendship grow.

3) Simon is a gorgeous, gorgeous man.  If he was at ALL single, I’d be like, “Zoey, hit that IMMEDIATELY”. But I don’t love the direction that their relationship is going (HE IS ENGAGED, FFS) OR the whole Jessica vs. Zoey thing they’re pulling.  I’m willing to give the first part a pass because both of them are grieving and emotional instability can definitely equal bad decisions (we may not like it, but you can’t say it’s unrealistic). But that second part? Simon is way more to blame than Zoey. No more girls hating on girls, okay? Like, I don’t want Jessica and Zoey to necessarily become besties (that whole “it’s always about your dad” comment was way too awful for me to like her THAT much), but you know what I mean. The longer this goes on, the less I like Simon.  And it’s such a BUMMER, because I feel like Zoey and Simon could really use each other, platonically. 

4) Speaking of not liking people, Zoey’s brother is a dick. Not ONLY because of the shit he pulled with going out to bars instead of being with his PREGNANT WIFE/STRUGGLING MOTHER, but that whole thing about him having to “convince” his wife to have kids when she didn’t want them? YUCK. He’s the one character I do not like at ALL and I hope that Emily leaves him and ends up an awesome single mom with a hot boyfriend. I’m glad Zoey told her what was up. GOOD. WHAT A JERK.

5) Zoey’s mom is amazing and deserves the world. That is all.

6) Full disclosure: I am 100% Team Max. But within that 100%, I’m 50% Zoey Is Clearly Not Ready To Date Him Or Even Process Her Feelings About Him Right Now So He Needs To Just Be Her Friend and 50% Zoey Is Clearly Terrified Of Feelings And Max Might Need To Push Her a Little To Get Her To Get Past That.  This is coming from a place of experience, because I was once terrified of feelings and commitment and basically my husband is only my husband because he chose to ignore the many, many times I tried to break up with him and was very persistent with me. Please note that this DOES NOT MEAN that Max needs to be all pissy about “friendzoning” and/or pushing TOO hard, TOO quickly. Which he’s sort of toe-ing the line with, at the moment.  I don’t think that Zoey ever really gave him the impression that she was interested in him romantically before the whole “flash mob” debacle (I cringed when Mo said that touching his shoulder and having him come over to watch a movie was leading him on, because please don’t do that, writers, Mo is too smart and progressive for that BS), and the flash mob itself was a really weird, out-of-character move (at least thus far) for him.  Look, I get the whole “omg, Max can hear her/no wait, there’s real singing” thing was an unexpected twist, but I’m not a fan of twists over characterization. Max knows Zoey, and I think he’d know that declaring feelings in public while making her the center of attention would not be her thing (but I find public proposals super cringe-y, so maybe that’s just me).  I’m sort of not happy with that. What I DO think is appropriate is him asking for some time/space after she asks to just be his friend-- I count that as being respectful of her decision and needing some breathing room to disconnect his romantic feelings towards her. I also don’t blame him for being upset that she knew his feelings way beforehand and didn’t say anything, or for being upset after seeing her sing to Simon. The singing thing is not Zoey’s fault at ALL, but that is some serious emotional whiplash! Nevertheless, I hope these two are endgame and don’t hurt each other too much in the process. That boy will do ANYTHING for her, and I kind of love him for it. Please don’t turn him into a “Nice Guy”! Also, can we all agree that he outsang EVERY SINGLE ONE of the Jonas Brothers with “Sucker”? Goddamn!

7) Tobin is so stupid, but WOW is that character a brilliant representation of every single, straight, young, insecure, emotion-denying, Reddit-using, product of toxic masculinity gamer boy that you’ve ever met in your life. Holy SHIT. They’re nailing it with him. He is 100% the guy that yells a “make me a sandwich” joke in front of his friends and then goes home and cries about not having a girlfriend. I have met 10,000 versions of Tobin in my life and he CRACKS ME UP. Bless him.

8) Leif is Draco Malfoy and I hope that Joan is using him for sex and then ditches him in a humiliating fashion. IF THEY MAKE HER FALL FOR HIM I SWEAR TO GOD. She’s too smart for that. I want Joan and Mo to take over the world together.

9) I don’t want to talk about Zoey’s dad. HE’S FINE. EVERYTHING’S FINE. HE’S TOTALLY GOING TO GET BETTER. THIS IS A HAPPY SHOW. 

Okay, I think I got all of my thoughts and feelings out. Until next week, at least.

#zoeys extraordinary playlist #zoeysplaylist #ZEP #this is too long #i apologize #but i mean #we're all stuck at home so at least it wastes some time #mention of a broadway show that i will not tag because reasons

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Painful Death for the Lactose Intolerant - BCE (Before Cult Events) -

Words: 2,957 Warnings: (major) Implied attempted non-con, depression, alcohol, underage drinking, drunkenness, sickness, food, blood, (off-screen) violence Characters: Virgil, Remy, Remus, Roman Universe: Painful Death for the Lactose Intolerant Rating: T+ Genre: Angstbachery 

Sanders Sides Teenager AU - Friendship - Humor - Angst

Virgil and Remus and Remy have been drunk idiots who are barely coping for a long time. Do you want more Teenage Debauchery? Because you’re getting teenage debauchery and a little angst, as a treat.

Please read Painful Death for the Lactose Intolerant First if you haven’t already- there are minor spoilers for it! This piece of history is referenced in Chapter 13.

Chapter 9: Nothing Happens to Virgil

   Virgil had a complicated relationship with house parties. He hated people and hated being around people. But there was some sad, pitiful part of him that wanted to be accepted by people. He wanted to be liked and to fit in and not always be the odd one out. So when Remy wanted to go to one, probably because there was also an enormous part of him that just wanted to fit in for once, Virgil pre-gamed. And he pre-gamed hard. Virgil wouldn’t touch the alcohol at a party. Remus got him a flask and he drank his own alcohol. Today was trash whiskey. Warm & straight, which is not an ideal way to drink trash whiskey.

   He still wore the nail polish to check Remus and Remy’s drinks, which they both appreciated, even if Virgil hounded them about it often. Remus seemed to like this party stuff. He usually fell into the role of party bouncer, and people liked having him around for that. He wished people could see how cool Remus was in the daytime, but at least he tended to get along with people at these things. Virgil rarely did. Remus was off talking about his guerrilla art installation with a group of girls who were curious about all the crochet around town. Remy was playing spin the bottle. Virgil was interested in playing, but he wasn’t kissing-strangers drunk. He wasn’t actually sure if he could get kissing-strangers drunk because he was pretty fucking faced at this point. He did try, though.

   Virgil leaned against the wall because without the wall he wasn’t sure he could stand up straight and hitting is room-temperature garbage whiskey watching them play spin the bottle. He was getting a little dizzy and probably needed to dial it back. Virgil twisted back on the small cap and slid it in his hoodie pocket. He never trusted it in his back pocket while drunk. People could twist off the cap and do something.

   “Hey,” a very, very tall guy who was suddenly standing next to him said. Where did he come from and how is the tall so a thing?

   “You… are a mountain of a tall. I wanna climb you, I bet I can see the whole party up there,” Virgil said brightly. “Where did you come from Mr. Mountain-tall man?”

   “I’ve just been floating around. I saw you at a party last week with that big guy. You were wall-flowering with him like you are now,” He said smoothly, leaning back into the wall and sliding his hands into his jeans pockets.

   “Yeah, he’s talking about his art stuff with some girls… Why? You better not be here to insult him I’ll have you know-” Virgil held up his finger and rambled at him.

   “Woah, woah, tiny thunder, I didn’t say anything. So you’re here alone?” He asked casually and sipped his drink.

   “Fer now, yeah. You know who I really wanna climb? Bigfoot. That bitch is ta~all,” Virgil drawled and lolled his head back on the wall, he was feeling a little sick. He needed food. Remy said something about pancakes earlier and they were all he could think about food-wise. He was pretty certain there were chips in the other room but wall. Virgil rolled his head against it because it felt good.

   “So, you like tall guys?” He asked lazily, staring at Virgil while he rolled his head against the wall.

   “Do you see me? Everyone is tall. And I’m not gay,” Virgil growled and smacked his head against the wall trying to stand up straight, but he possibly was no longer capable. He needed water maybe but he finished his bottle of water and didn’t feel like refilling it. He’d have to hunt down a filter and yuck. Effort.

   “You are little,” The guy hummed.

   “Don’t fucking call me little, asshole,” Virgil hissed angrily. He managed to stand up straight with fury. The guy was laughing, but Virgil didn’t get why. Virgil looked at him incredulously for a moment and looked over to check on Remy. Remy was spinning the bottle and Virgil felt awful for some reason. He braced himself on the wall and swallowed hard. Remy got up and went off with Roman of all people and Virgil felt even sicker. He held his stomach and tried to breathe through the sickness against the wall.

   “You are absolutely trashed, huh?” He asked, sounding amused.

   “I am very much so, yes,” Virgil chuckled weakly. He didn’t want to think about what they were doing. “So, like, what do you think happens when you die? Do you think ghosts are real? I like the idea of there being ghosts,” Virgil said airily, still feeling absolutely sick to his stomach but mostly distracted from what he just saw. “I should really eat food,” He added and held his stomach.

   “I’ll come with you to get chips,” He said, looking at Virgil oddly.

   “No, I like the wall. I don’t want chips, I want pancakes. Or waffles. I hear the ingredients are similar, but they just hit different, right?” Virgil collapsed a little against the wall. Remy and Roman came back and he glared at Roman. Roman didn’t seem to notice him, though. He looked like he was on cloud nine. Fucker. He better not try to steal Remy away. He had to show Remy he was better somehow. Virgil glowered at him.

   “What are you mad about now, short stack?” He chuckled, looking at Virgil and reaching over to ruffle his hair. Virgil tried to knock his hand away, but Virgil was either too drunk or the mountain-tall man was really fucking strong because he had no effect.

   “My lack of pancakes,” Virgil grumbled and tried to fix his hair, but maybe he didn’t do that great of a job. He pulled up his hood instead of trying any further to fix it.

   “What’re you drinking, little guy? I’ll top you up,” The tall-tall dude offered. Maybe he wasn’t that tall. Maybe Remus was taller. Virgil was too drunk for spatial reasoning.

   “Nothing,” Virgil grumbled. “Too drunk. Wanna get pancakes for Remy,” Virgil said stoutly. “And a nap. I’m tired. I want pancakes and I wanna go to bed. Where’s Remus?” He whined petulantly and the guy laughed again, and it was kind of a weird laugh. “What’s so funny, bitch?”

   “Bitch, huh?” The guy said darkly and moved closer to Virgil. “How about you come with me and I’ll get you some pancakes?” He asked and tugged at Virgil’s hoodie string playfully.

   “You mean it?” Virgil looked up to him in excitement. Remy wanted pancakes! He wanted pancakes! Pancakes! “Uh, wait, how are we getting them?” Virgil asked, realizing he was talking to a stranger at a house party where drinking was involved. Very involved. So drunk. No pancakes here.

   “We’ll take my car,” He played with Virgil’s bangs now, and Virgil once again failed to smack his hand away, but it was whatever. His bangs were probably already a mess.

   “I don’t ride with drunk drivers,” Virgil said firmly, making a face at him.

   “I’m not drinking. See a cup in my hands?” The guy held out his hands and moved closer to Virgil. “No drinks. Does my breath smell like it?” The guy leaned down and exhaled in Virgil’s face. He didn’t back off after that. He was weirdly close for a stranger. People didn’t normally get that close to Virgil. There was probably a reason for that. Something in him was vibrating angrily. It was probably just the alcohol?

   “Uh, no, it’s weirdly minty, actually. Smells almost like a candy cane,” Virgil said, surprised. “Okay, then. Lemme get Remy so we can get pancakes! Remus doesn’t normally get to talk to people so I don’t wanna bug him. Will you bring us back here? He probably wants some, too,” Virgil smiled up at the guy happily.

   “We can bring back pancakes for both your friends, it’s fine,” The guy grinned.

   “No, Remy deserves them fresh!” Virgil whined, trying to get up off the wall, but the guy pushed him back down.

   “We’ll hurry back, they’ll still be hot,” He hissed and Virgil furrowed his brow at him.

   “Remy wants pancakes!” Virgil said loudly. Wow, when did this guy end up in his face?

   “We’ll get him pancakes. Come on, the sooner we go to get pancakes, the sooner you can bring them back to your friend,” The guy said, grabbing Virgil’s shoulder.

   “Ow! Don’t grab so hard, shithead,” Virgil said angrily and shoved off the guy’s hand. It took a lot of effort and the guy helped him stand back up straight. “Sorry. Just be fucking careful,” Virgil grumbled.

   “What, you don’t like it rough?” He cackled.

   “No! Does anybody like it that rough? You might have fucking bruised me,” Virgil muttered. “Sorry,” Virgil said weakly. “I don’t feel good,” Virgil rubbed his head and moved to hold his stomach again.

   “I’ll help you to the bathroom, how about that?” He offered, sounding annoyed.

   “It’s whatever, lemme just get Remy, pancakes’ll help,” Virgil said resolutely. “Um, we’re still getting pancakes, right?” Virgil looked up to him sheepishly.

   “Yeah, sure, whatever. Come on, I’ll show you to my car,” The guy grabbed Virgil’s arm.

   “Sweet,” Virgil cheered. “Remus! I’m heading out! Be back! Come on, Remy, pancakes!” Virgil called as the guy tugged at Virgil’s wrist.

   “Shit,” The guy hissed and started pulling Virgil along, but Virgil was thrown off balance and fell to the floor.

   He was really fucking dizzy now, and his nose hurt. He didn’t think he could get up and his head was swimming. There was some kind of muffled noises he couldn’t place around him because his ears were roaring with dizziness. He slowly moved to hold his head and try to stop the awful spinning. He felt Remus’s hand on his back for a moment, but it disappeared. He was just so fucking sick. He drank too much. He considered just sleeping right here. Floor was nice. Helped with the dizzy. Grounding. Hah. Virgil groaned into the hard floor.

   There was a new hand on his back this time. Remy. Remy’s hand. He liked Remy’s hand. Remy tapped at the hand over his ear and Virgil moved it for him, gripping the floor instead.

   “V, are you okay?” Remy asked, sounding freaked out. Was something happening?

   “I drank too much,” Virgil mumbled into the floor. “’Vrythin’ okay?” Virgil slurred.

   “Here, I’ll help you up,” Remy said, sounding concerned.

   “No, floor nice,” Virgil whined in objection.

   “V, this is a stranger’s floor at a house party,” Remy tapped at Virgil’s shoulder.

   “Oh. Okay,” Virgil conceded, and Remy reached under him to help him sit up against the wall. “Hey,” Virgil drawled and smiled when he saw Remy’s face.

   “Were you drinking anything?” Remy asked, sounding almost in a panic.

   “Nah, too drunk. Stopped drinkin-in-in-in’,” Virgil trilled. “I found a dude to take us to get pancakes,” Virgil said excitedly. “Pancakes!” He cheered. “Remember, you said you wanted them? I found a guy, we can pan the cake,” Virgil grinned widely.

   “Um,” Remy said, rubbing the back of his head.

   “Did he fucking touch you, V?” Remus sat down in front of Virgil, and he looked pissed.

   “Uh, who?” Virgil cocked his head. “Oh, Remus, you want pancakes? I was gonna go get them with Remy, didn’t want to distract you from arty-art-art,” Virgil said happily.

   “You can pull me away any time, dude,” Remus rubbed his head. “You’re okay, right?”

   “I’m too ducking frunk,” Virgil nodded. He processed what he said and cackled at his own words. “Pancakes will help. Where’s the pancake dude, anyway? He was right here a second ago,” Virgil slurred lightly, looking around, but he moved his head too quickly and had to hold his head. “Ugh,” Virgil groaned.

   “He, um, he left,” Remy said, looking around nervously, staring Remus in the eyes. Remus still looked really mad, but Remy glared and mouthed something at him and Remus softened. Virgil had absolutely no idea what was happening and rubbed his face instead.

   “How about some fresh air, V?” Remus asked, sounding upset. Was Remus okay? Remus smiled at Virgil and it was a good smile and maybe Virgil was overreacting. He tried to move his legs, but they didn’t seem to want to listen to him.

   “I think my legs are jelly,” Virgil giggled, poking at them.

   “Ro! We’re waiting in the car!” Remus called out.

   “What? Why?” Roman called back from across the room through the noise.

   “Virgil’s sick, fuckhead!” Remus shouted back angrily.

   “Ugh, fine,” Roman walked over across the room, around the couch and over to them. “When was your last drink?” He asked impatiently.

   “45 minutes ago, probably,” Remus said. “Been distracted and never got a refill,” He added offhandedly.

   “Fine, text me when you’re sober enough to drive. I was about 20 minutes ago, so you’re designated,” Roman said in a huff.

   “Gee, way to be sensitive,” Remy drawled. Roman jumped like he hadn’t noticed Remy there and turned bright red for some reason before he ran off. “Ha! Dork. It was just a kiss. Your brother is weird,” Remy rolled his eyes and Virgil’s stomach turned again. Virgil groaned and held it. 

   “He is fucking weird. Okay, V, I’m gonna carry you,” Remus said, slowly reaching out. Virgil didn't feel ready to be moved but also didn't want to stay here.

   “Ream, are you okay?” Virgil gasped when caught sight of some blood on Remus's knuckles.

   “It’s not mine. Come on,” Remus said and picked up Virgil off the floor, carrying him carefully in his arms, Virgil hanging limply with his head pressed against Remus’s chest while he carried him out. Remus was always so warm. “You holding up okay?” Remus asked carefully.

   “Yeah. I’m sad we don’t get pancakes,” Virgil grumbled.

   “You have toaster strudels, buddy, that’s even better,” Remus suggested quietly.

   “Oh, shit, really?” Virgil brightened. “Remy, do you want some toaster strudels?” Virgil asked excitedly.

   “Um, yeah… that sounds good, V,” Remy said awkwardly, looking away.

   “Are you okay? You’re acting weird,” Virgil said and yawned tiredly as Remus set him down in the back seat of Remus’s car.

   “Am I okay?” Remy shot, then shook his head for a moment, exhaling in frustration. “Yeah. I’m fine. How about you lie down?” He asked Remy climbed in on the other side and Virgil tiredly shifted to lay his head in Remy’s lap. “Are you comfy?”

   “Very. Want the radiator,” Virgil said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

   “I won’t fit back there with you, V, I’d rather you lie down,” Remus said, closing the car door to the driver’s side seat and sitting sideways by throwing his legs up on the bench.

   “You guys are acting funny,” Virgil sighed sadly. “Is it ‘cuz I drank too much? I’m sorry,” Virgil said weakly. “I wanted to join, but couldn’t work up the, uh, nerve,” Virgil muttered.

   “No, it’s fine,” Remy said softly, putting his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I was sick of that party anyway. Maybe we should have stayed home tonight,” Remy sounded really upset.

   “Aw, you didn’t get to do the friend thing? Remus talked to some people! I saw, it was awesome,” Virgil said cheerily but was cut off by a yawn.

   “They were just trash people,” Remy said bitterly. “It’s whatever,” He waved his hand dismissively.

   “I’ll fight whoever hurt you!” Virgil shot, holding his fist in the air.

   “Woah, settle down, babe,” Remy said, slowly lowering Virgil’s arm. “Nobody hurt me,” He clarified. Remus was grumbling in the front seat. “You too,” Remy said pointedly to Remus.

   “It’s hard not to be pissed, Rem,” Remus grumbled, crossing his arms.

   “Did those fuckers say something mean?” Virgil narrowed his eyes in indignation.

   “No, buddy, it's all good now,” Remus rolled his eyes. “I can take care of myself and they liked my art installation. They weren’t down with the message. But I’ll take the win,” Remus said flippantly.

   “Aw, it’s a good message,” Virgil whined tiredly.

   “It is,” Remus nodded, looking much more pleased.

   “Which installation did they see?” Remy asked and Virgil blinked a few times, struggling to keep them open. Closing eyes while dizzy was usually bad, and he didn’t want to risk it.

   “The dragon one. I’m working on another part to it, but this one is bigger,” Remus explained, though he sounded weirdly distracted and was looking at Virgil. Virgil rubbed his eyes again. He was just so dizzy. Remy’s lap was nice, though. Having Remy’s hand on his shoulder was kind of grounding. It wasn’t as warm as Remus’s but it was just so strangely comforting. He never wanted it to leave.

   “Will the new installation have the same message?” Remy asked, rubbing Virgil’s arm slightly. The motion seemed like it would be an awful idea, but it felt so nice instead of bad.

   “Kinda. This one is more ‘life is short’ than the original,” Remus explained, but it seemed kind of distant.

   Virgil yawned again and closed his eyes. The world was spinning either way, so it didn’t seem like it would hurt to just rest his eyes a bit. Remy probably had him. Remy’s lap was so nice. He wanted to live there. Remy and Remus were still talking, but it was all just too far away to make out now. Maybe he was falling asleep. That would be nice. He wouldn’t have to be dizzy anymore if he was asleep. He still kind of felt Remy’s hand rubbing his arm, and he focused on that until he drifted off properly.

((note: I am not tagging on this chapter due to the major warning))

#tsss #sanders sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #ayri writes #painful death #bce #implied attempted non-con #tw drinking #tw alochol #tw depression #tw food #tw drunk #tw sickness #ts virgil #teen!virgil #ts remy #teen!remy #ts remus #teen!remus #ts roman #teen!roman #platonic dukesleepxiety #feral virgil #chapter fic #shorts #part of series #tw blood

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Fast Forward (part 1)

Back at it again with another time travel fic. This time it’s a Lewis fic, and he’s travelling forward in time. (LewVivArt)

Self-indulgent, sappy, angst and melodrama. Also, this is leaning towards LewVivArt. Don’t usually focus on ships in my fics so we’ll see how this goes.

Summary: Lewis wakes up in a future where he’s been dead for two years.

Part 2: here 

“You’re sure it’s fine.”

Lewis watches Vivi hover next to Arthur, on her knees, peering under the van to watch Arthur do whatever mechanical thing he did when he lay down on that roller thing to work on the van’s undercarriage.

“Yes, Vivi. Everything is good to go. I’m just giving her a once over for good luck,” Arthur responds, voice slightly muffled.

Vivi leans forward, cheek almost touching the concrete in an attempt to follow Arthur’s movements.

“It made that weird squeaking noise the other day.”

Arthur huffs, “That was the brake pads, which I’ve replaced. Pass me that wrench.”

The arm that Lewis can still see waves towards a slime silver tool which kind of looked like a wrench. Vivi is again distracted, trying to follow Arthur, so he pushes himself out of the doorway and weaves his way around the workshop to grab the tool. He kneels next to Vivi, putting it in Arthur’s still waving hand.

“I’m sure the van is fine Viv. Arthur knows what he’s doing.”

Vivi sits upright to give him a look, “I’m not doubting Arthur. Just making sure there are no more road trip delays. The Mystery Skulls Machine needs to be 100% ready to take on all manner of ghosts that we’re definitely going to find while we solve all those unsolved cases.”

“Lewis hand me the tool next to the one you just gave me,” Arthur interjects, and Lewis glances down, locating and handing Arthur the requested item, before turning back to Vivi.  

“Ghosts,” He starts slowly to be provocative, “Right. I’m sure the van can handle whatever the ghosts throw at it.”

“Is that a hint of scepticism I detect,” Vivi leans forward, taking his bait, giving him a light poke in the chest, “We don’t take too kindly to sceptics in these parts.”

Lewis grins, also leaning in, giving Vivi a raised eyebrow, “That’s unfortunate. What are you going to do about it.”

“Ah,” Arthur’s exasperated voice interrupts, “Can you two shuffle back, I can’t get out with you guys sitting there.”

Lewis, still grinning, heaves himself to his feet, holding a hand out for Vivi. Vivi sniggers, taking his offered hand so he can pull her upright.

“Sorry Arthur,” They both say in unison, watching Arthur shuffle around under the van, finishing up with whatever he’d been doing. A second later he slides out, smears or oil across his cheek, so it matches his off white work shirt.

“Everything good?” Lewis asks, offering a hand to Arthur as well. His friend heaves himself into a seated position, muscles along his shoulders shifting.

“Yeah. It’s all fine. Like I said, I was only doing a tune-up for good luck,” Arthur grips his hand, and Lewis almost forgets to pull, slightly distracted by Arthur’s smile. It’s warm almost reminding him of Vivi’s playful smirk but more relaxed and easy. The mental comparison throws him through a loop for a hot second.

“Well, that’s good, cause I can’t wait to get out of this place and see something that’s not cactus and dirt for once,” Vivi is talking, bouncing with pent up energy, “We should start packing now, so we’re ready to leave first thing tomorrow.”

“Haha, sure,” Arthur laughs, wiping his hands clean on his shirt, “let me just park the van out front to make it easier.”

“Come on Lew,” Vivi tugs at his hand then frowns, face wrinkling, pulling back. Lewis realises a second too late that his hands are now also covered in grease.

“Yuck,” Vivi grouses, “Arthur, how is it that we get covered in this stuff when you’re the only one doing mechanic work.”

“Bad luck?” Arthur offers with a loose shrug, quickly retreating to his van.

“You know where the sink is,” He calls back at them.

Vivi huffs, watching Arthur reverse out of the garage. She then turns and gives him a contemplative glance.

“You know. I only get this oily stuff on my hands when I touch you.”

Lewis eyes snap away from where he’s tracking Arthur and onto Vivi who leans in towards him, wigging her eyebrows.

“Uh. I was being helpful?”

Consideration and maybe realisation flash across Vivi’s face and she grins.

“Helpful. Right. I’m sure that’s all. Nothing else?”

This is new. Lewis stares at Vivi, unsure of what she’s hinting at exactly. He’s still getting used to this flirting thing, and Vivi is better at it than him, so maybe he’s missing something.

“Let’s go wash our hands and pack the van,” He suggests in place of addressing her question. Vivi seems disappointed. He has no idea why, a few seconds ago she’d been all but pushing him out the door in her rush to start packing.  

>>>

Long into the evening, after the van is packed and everything is ready for the road trip, the exchange is still playing over in his mind. It repeats on a seemingly endless loop. Arthur…Vivi. He liked them both. Being officially with Vivi is still new, and he’s getting used to thinking of her as more than a friend. But, he’s never really considered Arthur the same way.

Or had he? Lewis frowns up at the ceiling of Arthur’s living room. He is stretched out on Arthur’s couch, and Vivi is snoring loudly on a mattress next to him.

Now, considering the whole thing, he doesn’t think he’s ever talked to Arthur about him and Vivi being in a relationship. What did Arthur think about it? It’s weird that he has never thought to ask.

He loves Vivi, her energy, enthusiasm, the get it done attitude, can’t image his world without her really. But he also feels the same way about Arthur and his more methodical approach to life and openness with all emotion from happiness to fear. Arthur who is his best friend. Lewis ponders the comparison. He’s not sure what to do with this information. Did Arthur feel the same way? What would Vivi think? Should he broach the topic with either of them?

He doesn’t come to a conclusion instead drifting off to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

>>>

Lewis awakens feeling oldy heavy headed like he has slept longer than he should. He is still on Arthur’s old couch, but Vivi’s mattress has been moved. He stares at the empty floor in slight confusion. Had Vivi and Arthur packed it up without waking him? Strange. He doesn’t consider himself a heavy sleeper and Vivi wasn’t a quiet person so it should have woken him.  

The sound of a oiled pan spitting and the distinct smell of eggs frying distract him from the conundrum. Lewis hoists himself upright to peer over into the kitchen. Arthur’s lounge and kitchen are joined into one open-plan room so he can just make out the back of Arthur’s head and shoulders by the stove.

There is the sound of salt shaker clattering over and Arthur swears under his breath. Lewis lets a small smile pull at his lips. The only time he hears Arthur swear is when he’s trying to cook. He’s not quite sure why Arthur’s decided to make breakfast when it’s usually Lewis who handles anything kitchen related but he’s not about to complain. Though, it is odd that neither Arthur or Vivi had decided to wake him. Weren’t they supposed to hit the road as early as possible?

Lewis yawns, trying to rid himself of that odd heavy headedness, swinging around so he can stand. The curve of his back cracks as stiff muscles loosen. Now he’s standing a few paces from Arthur, the couch and an island benchtop separating them.

Lewis opens his mouth to say something along the lines of ‘good morning’, but Arthur beats him to it, turning,  still holding the pan of eggs.

“Hey Viv, hope you like burnt eggs because…”

Several things happen in quick succession.

Their eyes meet. Arthur freezes, face draining of colour. The pan clatters, falling from Arthur’s hand and onto the floor, cracking against the floorboards. The eggs and hot oil spatter over the bench, ground and other's side.

Lewis makes a sound of alarm, “Whoa Arthur. Are you okay.”

He starts towards the kitchen intent on offering aid and forcing Arthur’s hand under some cold water.

“Stay back,” Arthur snaps, backing up, stumbling when he almost slips on the now cooling oil.

Lewis hesitates at the panic in Arthur’s voice, eyes darting around, trying to find its source.

“What? What’s wrong,”

The sound of clicking across the polished wooden floor draws his attention towards the door nearest to Arthur. Mystery trots in, ears pricked and alert, probably in response to the sound of Arthur dropping the pan.

Lewis doesn’t think too much of it, more focused on helping Arthur, until a loud growl and the flash of teeth has him backpedalling. Mystery’s snap misses by an inch and Lewis takes several steps back, eyeing the surprisingly aggressive dog wearily.

“Mystery? It’s me boy. You know. Lewis.”

Lewis has never seen Mystery attack anyone, so he’s understandably unprepared for the sudden hostility.

“Don’t move,” Arthur is biting, “I don’t know what’s happening, who you are, but your trick isn’t going to work.”

“What are you talking about,” Lewis tries to edge around Mystery and almost gets bitten for his trouble, “What’s going on. Why is Mystery acting up?”

His brain then processes Arthur’s questions, “Wait. What do you mean you don’t know who I am?”

“Lewis has been missing for almost two years now. You’re expecting me to believe he would just waltz back in here like nothing.”

“What? No, I haven’t,” He objects feeling very thrown at the aggression in Arthur’s tone, “Is this some sort of prank because it’s not very funny.”

Arthur glares. Arthur’s never glared at him like that before.

“Whatever this is,” Arthur growls, “just… don’t. Lewis was officially pronounced dead yesterday. You can’t be here.”

“But…” He starts, hesitates, then continues in distressed exasperation, “I am Lewis….and I AM right here!”

Note: Another of my time travel fic which has been sitting around for a while, now out in the world. 

Part 2: here

#msa #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #Lewis pepper #arthur #ViVi #lewvithur #time travel #au

[vyrerus]

Shadowbringers Hot Takes - Inspired by Bioandrunaway

So, here I am at work again instead of playing Shadowbringers ugh. I have completed the main story, and since I can’t stop listening to the music/craving the game, I figured I’d write my version of @bioandrunaway thing she’s been doin’ with reacting to each part of the expansion that stands out. Spoilers under the cut, this post will only go as far as the events of Northern Kholusia i.e. up the level 79 dungeon/trial.

Oh we’re gonna explore the trench near the Syrcus Tower huh. Ok Tataru.

Damn my wild curiosity. Only an honest death will cure me now!

Bye Tataru! Guess you don’t get to table top striptease Elezen boys this expansion o/

This expansion is going to kick me in the teeth several times with Haurchefant references, isn’t it?

Hey, why did I reach out for that dude’s crystal? I hate that guy. I kicked his ass so hard like 3 years ago.

Huh everything here is purple, and of course, the first inhabitant of this place I meet is a drunk wanderer. Haven’t had a Dark Night in 100 years? Well, I’m on Dark Knight right now, I think I’ve got you covered.

I didn’t have him covered. ALSO STEP OFF SYPHA, GO BACK TO CASTLEVANIA YOU STUPID HAWTIE!

Crystal Exarch huh? Dude, I recognize your lips. I RECOGNIZE YOUR FUCKING LIPS! It’s just fucking G’raha Tia, and I swear to god if I’m wrong about this, then who the fuck has identical lips to his semi unique ass MIqote face.

Crystarium is nice... except for the map being almost Yuhtunga Jungle levels of shit tier.

Also does the Crystal Exarch have a crystal dick? Asking for science.

Gotta meet the twins first huh? *immediately b-line for Alisae* What? What?! She’s best waifu!

I guess your sidequest was interesting too Alphinaud. I bet I fight that fat fuck for the 77 or 79 dungeon or some shit. Definitely seems like the antagonist for this world.

Soylent Meol is made of people, calling it now.

I’m going to have to kill the jester bitches, aren’t I?

Mrs. Chai is so pure. I guess that’s good fat people rep? I wonder if Mr. Chai was mad that Alphinaud drew her fat as she was.

Alphinaud really could make a living as an artist.

Kholusia seems really down trodden. I also keep calling it Felusia like from Star Wars, despite Felusia from Star Wars being more akin to Il Mheg. i hope the mysterious northern half makes up for the lackluster south half.

Got the twins, now we gotta save some town huh?

First dungeon is DOPE! First two bosses were Sin Eaters from Alibae’s quest. Sorry Tesleen :( FINAL BOSS IS AWESOME SHB BOSS MUSIC IS AWESOME! Also I miss convalesence and awareness.

Sypha(Lyna) told me that I took a shower in the light. Guess I know what’s on her mind we she’s staring at me with her big bunny eyes.

Night time now, all the people are in wonder. Most of them have never seen the night sky. 

Eulmore ANGREEEEEEEEEE

Crystal Dicksarch has balls of crystal.

Oh hi again Ardbert. You gonna act like we’re chums now, despite trying to split my face in half with your axe on several occasions?

Oh no, Eulmore kidnapped... Minfilia?

There have been like a dozen Minfilias? What?!

Ooh, I’m a tower guard now. Finally, I can be as majestic as the tower guards from Dragon Age 1 who help you slay the Ogre at the top of the tower.

Eulmorons are chump change. Wait, who’s this discount Mulan extra? Wait, I had 90k HP and was kicking his ass, he couldn’t touch me... and I still have 40k HP left, and I’m regening 9k HP a tic, how is this even close to over old man?

Thanks Thancred, this sure is reminiscent of that time when you saved me in Heavensward from Ardbert.

Crystal Dicksarch just cock slapped Ran Jit, and Ran Jit didn’t much care for that.

IL MHEG! YEEHAW! SO PRETTY SO MUCH HARP IN THE MUSIC OMG, ALIBAE I’M SORRY BUT URIANGER PICKED THE PERFECT PLACE TO LIVE! I WANT TO MOVE IN WITH HIM!

Toad in a tux. Always take your time on the bridge crossing, there’s no need to sprint.

Heh they tried to drown me, unaware of my ability to not need air underwater.

Dog Fae spirit people. Neat!

Gotta get the last magic mcguffin from a big fat ass Amaro who just so happens to be Ardbert’s old mount. He says our souls look the same. I’m sure that won’t come up again and is hinting on nothing strongly.

Titania boss fight is one half beauty, on half nightmare. 

Feo Ul is the new Titania, and she is a boss bitch! Gonna show those Eulmorons why it was a bad idea to come to Urianger’s neck of the woods.

You are Emet Selch huh? This point probably happened earlier, but it’s all jumbled for me now. Anyway, Emet, honey, baby, doll, tell me something I don’t know, ok?

Oh he likes to chat between CSes, neat.

We’re off to see the wizard the wonderful wizard of Raktika!

Yshtola, what the fuck? Oh, I’ll have to forgive you, because of course you can’t be wrong. Whatever. I wonder how much life she’s got left to live, what with Matoya telling us her life was shorter for her forbidden magic use.

An Emet said, “Fuck this shit I’m out.”

Dark Cult #1 seems pretty nice

Dark Cult #2 is not as nice.

Ronka rhymes with Tonka. I DEMAND A RONKA TRUCK

Eulmorons back at it again. I’m pretty sure if they’d just let me kill Ran Jit now, it would save us a whole load of trouble, but alas, it’s not in this juncture of the script.

Murals! Were they painted by Bob Ross?

Yshtola go down the hole

Ran Jit go down the hole

Wouldn’t it have been kinda funny if Emet Selch gave her Ascian robes instead of the ones she had been wearing? I totally see him as the type to dig on others’ fashion choices. Also how much shorter is her life now?

Qitana Rivel is a fun dungeon. Bardam’s Mettle was better though, but hey most of the armor outta the rivel seems glammable!

See, nothing bad’s gonna happy Yshtola, you dummy! (of course, something bad is gonna happen. They have yet to let Yshtola be wrong about something)

Ok, two lightwarden’s left, but where oh where could they be? Guess we better rule out the obvious one that is Vauthry. Couldn’t possibly be him right? Guy who uses Soul Eaters for pillows, and enslaves the minds of others. I mean, we could save ourselves a lotta hassle if we just take military action to Eulmore... but alas, it’s not at this juncture of the script either!

TO THE DESERT! WE GOTTA GET “MINFILIA” Minfilia’s powers!

Oh we’ll have to go on the west side huh? Ok. 

So uh, why go to all this trouble the ride the trolley? Why not just follow the track and blow the gate open? Ah well, guess we gotta beat up and then befriend some plucky miner fellows and bring hope back to the land while we’re at it.

Oh this was all so they could reference Minerfilia. Oh and so we could bore Emet Selch. That’s ok, he’s dicks out for the Crystal Dicksarch anyway.

Jesus Christ, I think I’ve been fighting Discount Shan Yu for almost as long as the A3S fight was back in Gordias Savage. Aaaaaand... he’s still not dead. 

Thancred, if you die, I will use a phoenix down on you, just so I can kill you again.

“Minorfilia” got Minerfilia’s undefined powers, but now her eyes are grey and her hair is red! AND THEY EVEN GAVE HER A NEW NAME! Ryne it is then, you precious cinnabon.

She can now see Sin Eaters and Lightwarden aether, neat. Oh it’s underground huh? In the mine that was mentioned earlier huh. OK! 

Heh I haven’t seen this mechanic since Alexander Prime. THe Heavensward references are out in the sun!

Oooh that’s a spicy meatball, and I’ve got GERD at this point yuck. Yshtola be like, I TOLD YA, DIDN’T I TELL YA? But it’s ok, just hang on, Urianger said he had something up his sleeve.

Finally we’re taking the fight to Eulmore!

Huh all the people are attacking us in the name of Vauthry and they’re moving like zombies. Well, no big deal if we do kill them, but I guess we gotta be goodie goodies.

Oh, would you look at that,  Meol is made of mutated people. WITH GOT CITAN UZUKI’D IN SOYLENT GREEN REFERENCE

And finally, Ran Jit is... incapacitated? is he actually dead? I hope so. I’ll have to come back and find out later I suppose.

Vauthry appears to be a stress eater, but oh hey, there it is. He’s also a Soul Eater. 

More Talos shenanigans. BOOM ELEVATOR!

We did all that and there was a secret town up here with a secret tunnel to and from the bottom all along. Well, at least we rallied the Eulmorons out of their indolence.

LALI HO! Do female dwarves have beards? In some of the CSes with Ardbert, I’m pretty sure their WHM looked Dwarven and had a beard...

Dude the Crystal Dicksarch can cover and cast flare while wielding a WHM cane. What a fucking bad ass, why does he even need me?

“This idea is absurd, it’d take all of the people of Norvarandt just to have a chance of pulling it off!” WoL and crew respond by getting everyon ein Norvarandt. “Well uhh, shit I guess we’ll give it a go. Damn. Who the fuck are you people?” I’m with you on this one Mr. Chai. Who the fuck am I? ALPHINAUD AND ASSISTANTS MOTHALOVAH!

BEEG YOSHI

Bad ass dungeon! Cool ass bosses!

Eww I have to fight Vauthry now. Eww.

Dick move Emet, DIck Move. 

#FFXIV #Shadowbringers #Spoilers under the cut #you were warned!

[clonerightsagenda]

#tuesjade #homestuck// #kat writes fic #sort of #it's a pesterlog bc i can write those in 30 seconds flat so sue me

[funface2]

Tony Romo’s wild week, Phil Mickelson’s funny chat with Larry David, and my meeting with Tiger Woods(!) – Golf Digest

Welcome to another edition of The Grind, where we may never wash our right hand again. Yep, that’s right, it happened. After more than a decade of lurking around Tiger Woods, I finally got an official introduction to the GOAT. And a couple co-workers were able to document this historic occasion:

No, I won’t reveal what we were talking about. That’s private. I also can’t remember because it was such a blur. But basically, it was just two dudes yucking it up over golf. No big deal. Kidding. It was a BIG deal. And Tiger, I was also kidding about not washing my hand since our encounter. Totally kidding … I swear … so let’s do it again sometime. In the meantime, here’s what else is going on in the world of golf.

WE’RE BUYING

Cameron Champ: I wasn’t expecting the end of the Safeway Open to get me to cry, but there I was tearing up watching a young golfer hug his father in celebration while on the phone with his dying grandfather, PaPa Champ, who got him into the game. What a moving scene. As someone whose own grandfather did the same (RIP Poppa Myers), it hit me about as hard as Champ hits a golf ball.

Daniel Shirey

Speaking of which, Champ became just the eighth golfer in the past 20 years to win a PGA Tour event while leading the field in driving distance and scrambling. And he showed off both those aspects of his game on the 72nd hole with a 369-yard drive down the middle and a beautiful chip to set up his winning birdie.

https://twitter.com/PGATOUR/status/1178478887271096321

That was a special moment, and Champ is a special player. And with the Sanderson Farms rooster to go along with the Safeway Open wine barrel, he’s got quite a special trophy collection already.

Tony Romo: I’ll admit, I thought the Tony Romo PGA Tour experience had worn out its welcome a bit with him accepting his fourth sponsor’s exemption into an event where he had no local ties. But Romo had the sports world talking (Hence, why tournaments keep inviting him) following an opening 70 that put him in great shape to make the cut. Romo beat his first-round playing partners—PGA Tour members Beau Hossler and Michael Gellerman—by a combined 10(!) shots on Thursday. How ‘bout that Cowboy!

Jonathan Ferrey

Of course, his Friday performance, a four-over 76, wasn’t quite as spectacular, but Romo did beat a dozen tour pros even while missing the cut. He returned to his day job for CBS on Sunday, and after watching parts of that Bears-Vikings game he and Jim Nantz were forced to sit through, I can see why the former QB wanted to get out of work so badly.

Rory’s bunker lessons: A couple weeks ago, Rory McIlroy gave Justin Timberlake a bunker lesson. Now Timberlake is doing things like this:

https://twitter.com/EuropeanTour/status/1177222413760835584

Sign me up for a lesson, Rors.

WE’RE SELLING

Rory’s “course setup” complaints: I love Rory McIlroy. I love that he speaks his mind. I just think in this case, he’s not properly representing the whole story. McIlroy roasted the European Tour for its easy setups, but the timing was bad considering he had just finished the Alfred Dunhill Links Championship, which is a pro-am. A pro-am in which Rory played with his dad, Gerry, who shot a gross 69 (three under) at Kingsbarns!

Ross Kinnaird

Can you imagine being so good at golf that you complain about a course being too easy? Must be nice, am I right? Also kudos to Gerry for carrying his son to a T-1 finish in the team competition. Sadly, the McIlroys lost on a tiebreaker to Tommy Fleetwood and his partner because Fleetwood shot a lower score (64) on Sunday than Rory (67). Way to let your dad down, Rory. Kidding. Sort of.

“Spitgate”: Romo’s score had sports fans abuzz on Thursday, but a shot he hit on Friday wound up setting Golf Twitter aflame. The QB accidentally hit into triple coverage (the threesome in front) on a par 5 with a 3-wood from 278(!) yards to five feet. Then this happened:

https://twitter.com/jasondean2000/status/1177755076028321792

Here’s how PGA Tour rookie Kristoffer Ventura explained it:

https://twitter.com/krisventura95/status/1177799074566696962

We’ll take your word for it, Kris. A (OSU) Cowboy wouldn’t do that to another Cowboy.

“Flipgate”: Former PGA Tour pro and current Korean Tour money leader Bio Kim was suspended for three YEARS for flipping off a fan whose cellphone made noise during a tournament he eventually won:

https://twitter.com/ryanlavnergc/status/1179044209648705537?s=12

Allow me to echo Ryan’s sentiments. A THREE-YEAR ban for this?! Wow. That is harsh. And how about that photo of Kim kneeling before the Korean media begging for forgiveness? Geez, it’s not like he killed the fan with the cell phone. Anyway, let’s just say it’s a good thing Sergio Garcia doesn’t play on the Korean Tour …

ON TAP

The PGA Tour heads to Las Vegas for the Shriners Hospitals for Children Open, AKA that tournament Smylie Kaufman won. Man, I can’t believe four years have passed since that. Keep grinding, Smylie. Hopefully, you’ll be back on tour full time next year.

Random tournament fact: Patrick Cantlay has won and finished runner-up the past two years in Vegas. That’s a lot of money to play with at the blackjack tables.

RANDOM PROP BETS OF THE WEEK

—Someone will spit on Brooks Koepka’s golf ball this week: 1 MILLION-to-1 odds

—Phil Mickelson will win the Shriners Open: 100-to-1 odds (Actual odds. Wow.)

—Vegas casinos will get a boost this week: LOCK

PHOTO OF THE WEEK

Jonathan Ferrey

Again, what a scene. All the best to the Champs during this bittersweet time.

VIRAL VIDEO OF THE WEEK

This compilation of PGA Tour stars hitting tee shots over the corner of the Old Course Hotel on the famed Road Hole is mesmerizing:

https://twitter.com/GolfDigest/status/1178304741648080896

Juuuuust a bit different from this video that made the rounds a couple weeks ago:

https://twitter.com/lads_golf/status/1171368583819157504?s=21

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

“No matter if I win one more tournament, 10 more tournaments, whatever it may be, this will be the greatest moment in my golfing career for sure.” —Cameron Champ

THIS WEEK IN CELEBRITY GOLFERS (NOT NAMED TONY ROMO)

Michael Strahan participated in Tiger Woods’ newest charity golf event, the Nexus Cup, and challenged the host to a putting contest on Liberty National’s 18th green. Not only did Woods roll a 20-footer in on his first attempt, but he celebrated like he had just won the Masters. Check it out (40-second mark):

https://twitter.com/GMA/status/1177569369930420224

That and Strahan arguing with Lawrence Taylor over QB sack supremacy were the highlights of the event. Well, other than meeting Tiger. Did I mention I met Tiger?

THIS WEEK IN PHIL BEING PHIL

Mickelson struggled at the Safeway Open, missing the cut in his first event of the 2019-’20 season, but he really stepped up his game when it came to his latest “Phireside With Phil” video.

https://twitter.com/PhilMickelson/status/1176523612532236289

Larry David?! After playing golf (Would that be called a “Round and chat”?) with the comedic legend? Pretty, pretty, pretty good. Yeah, yeah, everyone else already made the same joke, but I don’t care. The part when they talk about Phil’s Hall of Fame jacket was particularly good. Netflix, pick up this show already!

THIS WEEK IN EDDIE PEPPERELL BEING EDDIE PEPPERELL

https://twitter.com/GolfDigest/status/1177670054877507584

He should legally change his name to Eddie PeppereLOL.

THIS AND THAT

M.J. Hur won the LPGA’s Indy Women in Tech Championship by four shots at Brickyard Crossing Golf Club. You could say she “raced away with the title.” Get it? Sorry. … Congrats to Victor Perez on winning his first European Tour title at the Alfred Dunhill Links Championship. Perez shot a final-round 70 and still finished (Look away, Rory!) 22 under par. … Five golfers, according to a Reuters report, had their drivers fail tests ahead of the Safeway Open now that the PGA Tour has really started to crack down. Kinda makes you wonder how many hot clubs have been in players’ bags in recent years. … China’s Yuxin Lin won the Asia-Pacific Amateur Championship, earning an invitation to next year’s Masters. It will be the second trip to Augusta National for the 18-year-old. Impressive. … And finally, Costco had to refund its latest batch of golf balls because they were cutting too easily. Bad job making the balls, but good job reacting by my favorite store. And if they are looking to hire someone for quality control their golf balls, I have just the person:

My daughter needs to start earning her keep at some point.

RANDOM QUESTIONS TO PONDER

Did anyone test Tony Romo’s 3-wood?

Is Costco ever going to bring back chocolate froyo?

Should I go for the bro-hug with Tiger next time?

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Bài viết Tony Romo’s wild week, Phil Mickelson’s funny chat with Larry David, and my meeting with Tiger Woods(!) – Golf Digest đã xuất hiện đầu tiên vào ngày Funface.

from Funface https://funface.net/funny-news/tony-romos-wild-week-phil-mickelsons-funny-chat-with-larry-david-and-my-meeting-with-tiger-woods-golf-digest/

[thebogdanone]

Home/away from home

Home/away from home

I stumble out of my room thinking…it's Thursday, right? I look down the hall to see Josh, who lives in the room next to mine, passed out on the floor right in front of the bathroom door. He is fully dressed and in an odd way looks quite peaceful with his arm under the head...then I notice the vomit drying on his sleeve and his cheek and I think...yuck, I am so glad that is not me. I look at my watch. It is 7:45 AM and then I pause...isn't he in my Lit class which starts in 15 minutes? I envision our classroom, one of those huge lecture halls and yes, I'm right, he is in that course with me. Then I think...will he be happy if I wake him up or hate me for disturbing him?

As I ponder the options John from three doors down emerges from his room with a loud belch and says, without missing a beat, "who the fuck is that...Josh again?" I nod. "Again" I think? I have never seen him asleep in the hall before but apparently this is a regular occurrence. I try to form into sentences what I had just been thinking about whether to wake him or not and just as I start to say "What should we do...?" big John bends down and effortlessly rolls Josh's body away from the bathroom entrance, tucking him up again the wall. John belches loudly again as he enters the toilet stall, slamming the door shut with a bang that jars me into reality. “I have to get going” I think and I step into the bathroom. Then I stop...I take a step backward and look back down at Josh...he is dead asleep, for sure, but he is not dead. Crazy as it sounds, way in the back of my mind that was a worry. I determine it’s highly likely he’ll miss class and so my "note to self" is: take good notes in class today.

I walk back into the bathroom. The putrid smell of stale vomit and urine is overpowering, as always, and I instinctively hold my breath. It's not until I turn the shower on and smell my soap each morning that I can breath regularly again. While the water slowly warms up I cross the bathroom to take a piss and notice a spent rubber congealed to the urine cake at the base of the urinal. I think to myself "gross — but at least they are practicing safe sex,” then I chuckle to myself at the thought of walking in on whoever belonged to that condom and the act they were engaged in while using it. I wonder what I would have done...that thought actually makes me feel sick to my stomach.

Here I am, only awake for about 15 minutes and I have encountered a drunk asleep in the hall, vomit (sight and scent!), the overwhelming stench of piss, a spent condom and now, as I contemplate a shower I'm hearing John fart so loud and long it almost sounds fake — but the sound of his grunting that follows assures me the farts are indeed real and I do not stick around to experience the odor! I wonder again, not for the first time, why it is I wanted so desperately to live on campus...I mean I basically told my mother I would die if she didn't let me — yes, I am prone to exaggeration! Anyway, its mornings like this that make me glad I can hop on a bus and get home to Rittenhouse in about 20 minutes and take a bath and eat real food and hang out with my dog and my little sister and just get away from all of this madness that is my dorm life...

OK. Enough contemplating my own existence. I have to get going and I know when I start thinking life thoughts I can get lost in that world so my next move is to instinctively look for my Paul Mitchell products which should — key word "should" — be on the counter where we all keep our stuff. I quickly realize, again, my conditioner is empty and my shampoo bottle is missing its top. I am reminded how my mom is about ready to kill me over my levels of "hair product consumption" since I moved into the dorm — she thinks I have some control over who uses my stuff. I don't. She wants me to carry my hair and body washes in this silly caddy thing to the bathroom each day and I keep telling her no way would I be caught dead doing that but TBH I am just about fed up with this. I will say I am pretty sure I know who is using my stuff though, but if it is him I really don't care...I owe this guy big time. My good buddy Brian, who I owe my current A in politics to, seem to always smell of Paul Mitchell and yet he uses, like, VO5...go figure? Honestly, if it wasn't for him and his editing skills my grade in that course would likely be a C. I am so lucky to have such a brain living just four doors away. This guy is so into reading and editing and helping everyone on our floor. We are all so lucky. I wonder what my life would be like if I didn't dorm and instead lived at home? Each of the guys on my floor offers something helpful in my college existence — Brian is the brain and the "go to" man for course help, John is the muscle and helps with all lifting and protecting, Josh knows everyone so he is our party connection, Asan has a real head for negotiating and deal-making, my roommate Steve is the guy who gets all the ladies to visit our floor and I'm the guy with the car. Whenever we need anything off campus I drive. I'm not allowed to park my car on campus so I bike home and get it whenever we want to go shopping.

Post shower, on my way back down the hall I agreed with myself I would not take more than a cursory glance at Josh — basically checking to see if he still has a pulse — so as not to disturb him or bring attention to him. That latter thought makes me chuckle — "bring attention to him" Ha ha ha! Too funny. As I round the corner to exit the bathroom I am quite shocked…and relieved...to realize Josh's body has moved — either by will or by force. I stop at the door of his room and give a light tap. His roommate Vincent comes to the door..."All good?' I ask. He says "yeah, I'm cool — what’s up"? Then I direct my gaze past him to Josh's bed where his body is flopped, still fully clothed, still embellished with vomit stains on his cheek and arm and still wearing his Timberland boots fully laced up! "Oh man, you mean him...well I can't speak for him right now but I'm sure he'll be cool after he sleeps it off". "Agreed" I reply — "I think his hang-over is going to be memorable". We both laugh and I say "look, if he needs anything or you need any help with him let me know — He did me a solid last week when I was in a head not so dissimilar so I owe him one.” "Will do" Vincent says as I head back to my room.

Vincent is a decent guy and I suspect they are — as roommates — a good match. As far as my roommate — Cal...A.K.A. Romeo — one could never discern if we would or would not have made good roommates because he is rarely — I actually mean NEVER — here. He met this Senior exchange student from Rome on his third night on campus. She lives in a single over near where the food trucks park at the edge of campus and basically from the first night they hooked up he has slept, ate, studied and, well, had sex in her room for the entirety of his first semester at college.

When we were matched up in June we started texting. To be honest we did seem to have a lot in common — tennis, business, art, music and reading. We shared Instagrams and so I knew he had this serious three year high school relationship with this hot chick from New Jersey. Every third pic was Camilla in a bikini and Cal's face buried in her huge tits. Camilla had one of those bodies that are naturally fit and she's athletic so everything looked...well, excellent! Her hair was long and lush in this chestnut brown tone and her eyes this unusual hazel shade and I did think to myself it was going to be hard for him to be away from her — she is only just now a high school senior — because there likely is a line of guys just itching to get at her. When we met at orientation he professed his undying love for her and told me he gave her a "promise ring". I knew a few girls who had received "promise rings" in my high school — one of them was gifted one that was larger than most women's engagement rings — and I used to joke that the only purpose they served was to keep a girl faithful...but the guys went on cheating like mad! Whatever, to each his own. Anyway, the day he moved into our room Camilla came with his parents. In person she was even more stunning and she had this very alluring voice — sort of sweetly deep in timbre -- and I could not take my eyes off of her. When on night three I looked across the room at a house party we were at in South Philly and saw Cal's tongue deep in the throat of the petite, dark, mature Italian exchange student we had been introduced to when we arrived I could hardly believe my eyes!!! I mean it was shock beyond belief!!! I did not see him leave that night and I did not see one sighting of him for that entire first weekend. Then Sunday evening, as I came back from the dining hall with Asan, John and Josh, there he was with her in our room. Her accent was just as adorable as I remembered it in our brief encounter a few days before and just as striking. They were giggling and he was packing a bag and he looked up and said "Hey Alex, this is Marina, you remember her...from the house party" “Sure," I said, extending my hand for her to shake. She took my hand, leaned in and kissed me on both cheeks. I am so sure I blushed and then she said "Hello friend, so nice for you to have me". I laughed — thinking yes it would be VERY "nice for me to have you" but clearly THAT is not gonna happen! Cal informs me, with few words and no detail, that he will be staying at Marina's "for a while". I immediately glanced at the overly adorable HUGE "bulletin board of love" that contained about a million pics of him and Camilla that was hanging over Cal's desk — and that Marina was now intensely staring at — and then back at him. He shrugged his shoulders and said “yeah, man, that was rough but I gotta move on.” OUCH! crass at its most intense! YIKES. SO this is love. Who knew?

I noted he only packed about three days of clothes so I thought ... ok, by Thursday or Friday he'll be back so I better not get too comfortable with the idea of a single...Oh if only I knew then what I know now and how those three words — "for a while" — would literally change the course of my Freshman year at college. Needless to say I have caught fleeting sight of Cal a few times at parties and once when he came to collect more clothes and his running shoes but that’s it! Now "our" (my) room is officially known as Alex's Airbnb. I am not so sure Cal knows much if anything about his (and I would like to keep it that way...) but there you have it. It works like this: The vacant bed in my room, that was Cal's, is now "rented out" for use when someone has a roommate who wants to bring a girl — or guy — back to his room. It’s administered by a sharp business student, Asan, who is probably my best mate in the dorm. He cooked up the scheme one Friday night when John kicked his roommate into the hall and we found him sleeping there. I offered him Cal's bed and went to Asan's room to hang out and watch some YouTube videos. Asan got this idea that in the morning I should let everyone know I had a vacant bed in my room and anyone could use it for 25 bucks. I told him I could not be bothered and I really did not need the hassle or the 25 bucks. He persisted though, and, given that he needed to devise some business scheme for one of his courses, I agreed — but only if he “administrated” the project. I did think, rather naively, that maybe he would rent it out ten or twelve times and then that would be that so I really wouldn’t need to pay too much attention to this project. Nothing to worry about! Ha Ha HA! famous last words..."nothing to worry about!?” Rarely is there a night I sleep in my room alone! Yes, I have a single....but I am almost never alone. Asan found someone who needed the bed the very next night after our conversation. He found someone for the next night, and then the next. He started to book it out several days in advance. Now the bed is also available hourly in the mornings and afternoons (at a rate of $15 for three hours!) and there have even been some girls who have rented the bed for a night. I am of course a complete gentleman and nothing untoward has commenced with any of them. TBH none of them have been even remotely hot but everyone has been so kind...even the drunk ones. I admit this is all rather bizarre — to open my bedroom door and see an outstretched hand attached to a nervous person leaping from the bed saying "Hi, I'm Kate...or Whitman...or Daniel”…or to see some huge guy’s nearly naked body asleep on Cal's bed and me standing there worried about waking a sleeping giant. Many people are now return customers and many people have started charging their roommates the $25 fee for the inconvenience. One guy even told his roommate the fee is $30 and he pockets the extra five. Sharp business man!

Asan (who is currently working on an upgrade that will net US these extra fees…) has been true to his commitment to "administrate" and people now know know him as “Superhost," which is an apt nickname for him because along with running an error-free schedule he does an excellent job of keeping the toiletries stocked (of course from the stash that my mom refreshes incessantly) and changing the sheets — a job I would never do and frankly rarely gets done on my bed. I mean, my mom asked me a few weeks ago if i needed anything. I said yeah, I need my sheets changed…I was half joking about my poor laundry habits…but, sure enough, my mom sent the woman who cleans her apartment over to the dorm to collect my stale sheets and she re-sheeted my bed so fresh and nice and even swept my room and vacuumed my carper and dusted! WOW — I thought when i saw it — my room is actually quite cool. My mom is good like that — she spoils us rotten and I know I'm somewhat of a lazybones because of it but I am always so grateful and I said thank you about ten times and called my mom very grateful for all she does for me — and all the guys on my floor. She sends monthly "Floor care packages" — a laundry basket stuffed with everything we all love...Oreos, peanut butter, goldfish, healthy granola and more…and, of course, cases of bottled water. My mom is obsessed with me NOT drinking Philly tap. She is sooooooo skeptical of city tap water. That annoys me but it’s her thing so I let it slide.

Starting in late October "Alex's Airbnb" got its own app — NO SHIT: I told you Asan was brilliant — and now it regularly brings in about $200-240 a week and of that Asan takes a 35% cut so I make $140-$160 a week. While that is sweet the result is I have absolutely NO privacy at all. None. Zero. Zilch! Also, my room door has to remain unlocked. On top of all of this our RA, Harrison, is starting to get annoyed with the whole thing and threatened Asan with a need to be "cut in.” I’ve placated him with these cases of Vita Water and boxes of blueberries and smoked salmon my mom has sent to me every four or five days. (I did tell you she is obsessed with me eating a healthy diet...didn't I?) Harrison loves that stuff and I am, frankly, sick of it so it’s a win/win...for now!

My Airbnb has made me a rather popular guy and everyone is so cool with me and Asan — I think it’s because they have to be out of fear they could need our services at any moment! The guys on my floor are like family to me already. We would do anything for each other. I have never felt such a bond so quickly with unrelated humans but I guess this is the normal outcome of communal living. We see each other for most of our waking (and sleeping) hours each day. Trust me, it’s not all great: these are the humans I have to thank — not! — for my two-day hangover last weekend and for introducing me to that wack girl from the third floor who I could not get rid of for three weeks and for our two-week probation over the colored water and suds in the fountain stunt…but, hey, this is dorm life and these are now my peeps.

On our floor there is a wide mix of students and I have to admit I do think there are those living here who would rather be elsewhere — like the two foreign exchange students who are Juniors and basically they are these mature men living among a floor of boys. Aldo is from Israel and Benyamin is from Denmark and they are marketing majors studying here to hone their marketing skills in the marketing capital of the world — "if you can't sell it to an American, it can't be sold" is the attitude I think the rest of the world has about Americans. Embarrassingly, I think that statement has many elements of truth. I notice these two can often be found in our floor lounge or in other campus locations asking questions or requesting that people fill out surveys. They have approached me a few times. I'm polite and I give general answers but I have this thing about giving too much away to future marketeers — I look at it this way: you gotta be pretty keen to learn my habits as I am a person of change and I rarely listen to the same music or take the same route or eat the same meal. I suspect my close friends could predict my actions or responses — this is not a comforting thought — in some situations but I'm actually an intensely private person and so giving hints about my likes and dislikes to marketing majors so they can lump me into a category with the rest of these clowns is NOT something I want to be a part of my reality as a college Freshman. They are innocent enough and I get they have task to complete but I would rather be left out of it.

Speaking of Benyamin — he is in my Stats class where I am headed after Lit. I am the only Freshman in that course. I scored the highest level on the Math assessment and my adviser is keen to use me as a test subject to see if a Freshman can handle advanced Stats "out of the gate" as she says. I currently have a course grade of 105% so um, yeah, some of us can. Benyamin is struggling — I think it might be the language barrier but whatever the reason the night before the mid-term exam I saw him in the lounge looking so damned stressed out. I offered him a Vita Water and gave him some encouraging advice — I said, “look, you know this material and, plus, numbers have no language barrier.” He told me after the exam that my words helped him — a lot — during the exam. I received a perfect score on the mid-term and he got an 89% which he admitted is waaaaaay better than he has done all semester, so, it’s moments like this that I think, wow, my just being here has enriched someone’s life.

The dining hall at this hour its filled with mindless students — mostly Freshman — just jonesing for strong coffee and a bagel and then heading straight out the door. I have noticed that people only hang out in there for long periods on weekend mornings — and that, again, is so different for me because on weekends I stop in to snag a coffee but then I head to my Mom's and enjoy a home cooked brunch — tormenting my sister Maya and roughhousing with my Mom's new puppy Miracle and just exhaling from the week that was. I have stopped sleeping in my comfy bed at home on Saturday nights because I have discovered, albeit rather late in the semester, a social life of sorts playing some pretty intense ping pong in my dorm basement. Many are the hours we can pass down there — I need this as my substitute for tennis as I have only played a total of six times and I have not found one person who is at my level but I’m always just so grateful to grip the racquet and hit the ball and move around out on the court. Maybe that is the most disappointing point of Cal moving out of our room — I had fantasies of us on the courts expending our excess energy through the sport we are both so passionate about but, alas, he has likely found his new sport — sex — so much more fulfilling and I have given up hope of finding a tennis partner and now I have set my sights on being our dorm table tennis champion! I have to get much better — or lady luck needs to come for a visit — if I'm going to hope to beat Chen and Jason but I am giving it a good shot.

I have lately realized that on my "short days" like today — when I only have two classes — I have been trying to socialize more. These days, I usually give the lounge a try and I have even branched out across the campus and get lunch every few days at a cafe that is primarily filled with Juniors and Seniors. I met a cool bunch of engineering dudes introduced to me by one of my Airbnb "guests" Whitman. He and this "team" of dudes are making this rocket and I sometimes go back with them to their warehouse lab and watch them work. I’ve even given a suggestion or two a few times and they love having another math mind around as it’s all about the numbers if that thing is going to get off the ground. I willingly sit and work some calculations and I really like the sense of brotherhood I derive from those fleeting experiences.

So, yeah...Freshman year dorm life...hmmmmm, what do I REALLY think of it…? I think you should ask me during the holiday break when I will have some perspective and can take stock in what I have experienced and learned. Is it all it promised (all I imagined it) to be? This I can say for sure: not by a long shot, but I think this has as much to do with those promises and my imagination as with what has actually really happened to me and because of me and who I am — and who I am becoming. I am committed to giving it another semester and you never know...anything can happen and I'm always ready for the next bizarre turn. That is what makes this life so wonderful — accepting what we are given when we have no control and changing what we can to make it everything we can wish for!

[brokenbutalright4now]

Since the beginning pt. 2

But anyway yeh so I went back to Robby's room another time I don't remember when but Isaac got mad at me LOL! Finally but he said it was OF different reasons buuutt Idk. And again he tried forcing me too. He put the Tio in but that was it I left real quick after I didn't want to have sex and I felt like he forced me. Another party I went to was auction for phi kap and this pledge bro made me bid on him $35 and I won haha I thought he was okay looking then he did a funny pose and bam. I got that gay vibe. He's too nice and I don't want anything cuz I know I will hurt him. I'm not lookin for anything. And he texts me as if we are talking or something. Like no. He had a date in the beach that was fun but he was being too touchy and I knew that damn. No. another party was for delta tuo delta and I met a hot guy named Dante nothing will ever happen SAD! But it's okay that's when I went with Amy and Alyssa and Alyssa fucked UP and took a virgins card and he came inside her omg that night was crazy 😂. Then I had Isaac come get me cuz I was fucked up and it was 3am and I'm surprised he snapchatted me and I texted him telling him to come and he came. I felt bad cuz he had to wake up early so we were laying down and my shorts were uncomfortable so I took them off good thing I wore my good underware 👅. And he was all I can't sleep and I was like ohhh really lol jk no I was drunk so it was low key a blur but we had sex again and his roommate walks in. Omge and his other roommate was alder on the top bunk he could literally watch if he turned his head DEAD. Omg. But then again I was really drunk. I asked him if he had done anything else with other people and he said yeh with two other girls there at ucr. And I was like okay fair enough I slept with one of your pledge bros. lol I'm sorry. I got so sad that me being with Robby destroyed our relationship cuz honestly I would pick him over Robby any day. And I'm the only one he is doing it consistently. And I told him to tell me when he does it with other girls cuz Wtheck I ain't trying to catch something. So today. 11/24/16 day before thanksgiving I got tested and I got the shot for birth control because I'm very anemic so I got it cuz I'm not a HOE! But cuz Ima die if I get any more anemic 😰. So I did it 3 times with Isaac 1 1/2 time with Robby. And I didn't tell Emmanuel. He's asked but I've lied. I can't loose him. Yeh I fool around but I want to end up with Emmanuel. He's my one and only love. I just want to experience other dick. Low key. Okay so today is the 7th and on the 5th I has sex with this guy named cesar from Phi kap and that was the BIGGEST mistake ever!!!!!! Omg!! Okay so I was really sad because my dumb ass thought it would be okay if I told Isaac that I low key was catching feelings for him and all he said was " 😬SORRY😬" THATS IT. I said "I can't talk to you anymore" and he said why? And I said "I'm lowkey catching feelings so I need to distance myself from you I'll talk to you after break"

So yes my dumbass and that response was not what I was ready for. So yeh that day on the 5th I was sad so I snapchatted cesar and was like pick me up. And he said want to eat and then he sent me another snapchat of weed and I was like yehhhhh lmfaoooo. And so I went and he's ugly! Not horrible! But not my type AT ALL YUCK. And I told myself nothing is going to happen but then I ended up sleeping over. FUCK MY LIFE! And I wrapped myself in my blanket. And we ended up under my blanket and from there. Yeh. He has a small dick. Literally my hand and a small tip of my finger. It was horrible. And I hated it. The worse ever. Lasted three minutes and I feel asleep and he didn't touch me at all that entire night and if he would've I would've left right then and there. And we stayed up until 6 am and I left at 9 it was horrible. The next day the 6th Robby invited me over and I had sex with him. It felt good. And I don't regret it. Out of all of this. I fucked up with Isaac and I'm scared it won't go back to how it used to be. Well I know for a fact it won't. And that sucks. I have to find a ginger. Or someone else to be with. Continuously again. Another Isaac. But better. Way better so I can forget about Isaac. Oh boy.

Okay so we are in our month long break it's the 22 and it's currently 4:01 am in the morning and no I'm not having fun I'm home on This uncomfortable bed that hurts my back I might end up sleeping on timos old bed in Joel's room but ANYWAYY .. so me and EESAAC lol are cool now 🤘🏽 at least over snapchat we are 🙂. We will see if and when I see him in person. I know he knows that I had sex with Robby again. And last we talked about robby he said that he need to see from me that I was done with him but SHIT. .. I just realized that maybe he said that cuz he didn't want me to do it with him again because he wanted me to be "continous" like we had agreed. But I can't do that with both. I choose and we'll shit by reading this you know who I choose. Damn. Um well. We will see how everything is when we go back and I know he will drop me like a pin and like I said up there ☝🏽 I need to find me another Isaac preferably ginger. Actually next person I have sex with will be a ginger or.. Isaac buttttt doubt that will happens cuz my dumbass went back to robby and I have a feeling that robby has no respect for me. And this guy joe who is their frat brother probably thinks I'm a slut and I was trying to get at him. I think Isaac had a talk with him because one minute we were talking normal the next. Not. And he was hanging out with Isaac the day we were talking and shit changed. And lowkey I think he has a girl but I couldn't tell cuz of his snapchat story buttttt anyways he lives in my building so I'm bound to see him again and Ima be like wassup and leave cuz I'll feel stupid. I need to have more respect for myself and stop throwing myself at guys. Idk what's wrong with me. Ugh.

Isaac is a fucking dick. Fuck him. I need to get the fuck the over this fake ass looser.

Yes I'm hurt over Isaac he was an asshole but then again I realized I fucked yo too because I slept with Robby and him at the same time fuck kassy wtf were you thinking. I liked the attentions nd used Robby to get Isaac jealous and it back fired but ya no whatever. Okay not whatever but let's move on kass.