#Midge x Lenny fic

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Maisel character of choice discovering an old love letter

Noah Maisel sighs heavily. He's been doing that a lot lately.

2015 has been a tough year. He was denied funding on a study he's been trying to get off the ground. His girlfriend of a year called it quits on New Years Day (nine months ago. He's mostly over it), and the icing on the shit cake, the coupe de gras. The worst of the worst.

Pop-Pop passed away.

And Noah supposes that makes sense. Lenny Bruce was an old man. He had certainly lived quite a few different lives in the last ninety years, but it seems oddly unfair; oddly short for someone so excited about life.

Last week, Noah had received a text message from his grandfather that simply said "fuckin' cronuts are great. Go get one! It'll change your life!"

"Pop-Pop, after all the crap you've been through, how are you not more jaded?" he asked once a few years ago.

His grandfather had chuckled and nudged Noah's foot with his own. "You take the good with the bad, kid. Yeah, I did that one time, and the addiction problems are a pain the ass. But there are flowers that bloom, and chicken salad sandwiches, and orgasms."

"Agh. Gagh."

"What?"

Noah laughs quietly to himself and then sighs again. Offering to help his father and aunts go through his grandfather's belongings. Softa isn't up for it yet, and...well. Who could blame her?

He sorts through a stack of papers and letters, one falling to the floor. He bends down to pick it back up, and glances at the front of the envelope.

To: Upper West Side

Noah frowns and sits with it for a moment. He probably shouldn't read it. It's meant for Softa, and he should walk it up the stairs to hand it over.

But he's really fucking curious, and what if it's sad, or upsetting? He doesn't want to just hand over a mysterious letter to his grandmother only for her to read it and feel more heartbroken.

He sits down at the desk and opens the envelope (not sealed shut, thankfully), and pulls the letter out, taking a look.

Midge -

You won an Emmy yesterday, and I thought I'd drop you a note letting you know how proud of you I am.

Not that you need me to be proud. It's just the reality of the situation. I am so proud of you, I could keel over.

From the second I saw you on stage at the Vanguard that one night, I knew you would surpass us all. There is more talent in your pinky finger than most comics have in their entire body. You've astounded me from the beginning, truly.

So yes. Again. Very proud.

I know we haven't seen each other in a little while; California and New York being so far apart. But I wanted to let you know. I saw you accept that Emmy, and I cheered. I woke my mother, I cheered so loud.

In any case, I hope you're celebrating. I should be in New York again soon, so I hope to run into you while I'm bumming around.

Congratulations, Upper West Side

Love, Lenny

Noah smiles sadly and blows out a breath, tilting his head up to do some math. Softa won her first Emmy in '64, and she and Pop-Pop married in '65. He wonders if they ran into each other before Pop-Pop could send that letter. It's a really nice though.

Carefully, he slips the letter back into its envelope and gets up to deliver it to his grandmother.

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

188. Electric Touch

For once in her life, she's not running late. In fact, there's a full hour until he's coming to pick her up, and she's almost completely ready. Her makeup is done. Her hair is perfect. She tried on five different dresses before settling on this one for their date.

Their date. She's going on a date with Lenny Bruce.

She exhales a shuddering breath and resists the urge to bite her lip; she doesn't want to ruin the lipstick she'd so painstakingly applied just right. She reaches into her jewelry box, pulling out her earrings and putting them on with slightly shaky hands.

She's tried to fall in love. And it has always fallen apart. She even thought it had fallen apart with Lenny after Carnegie. But then, just as she was leaving to try to find her way home in that blizzard, his hand had circled her wrist, somehow both tender and firm. And he just said, "Look, I'm sorry I yelled, but I care about you too much to let you fuck up your career."

She stared at him, trying to muster up indignation, anger with him, but he was giving her those sad puppy dog eyes, and she couldn't manage anything other than gratitude.

Because she knew he was right. She knows he was right.

He offered to sleep on the couch, and she'd rolled her eyes. "We're adults. We can share a bed." He looked nervous at that, but he nodded and gave her one of his shirts to sleep in.

They turned their backs to one another under the covers, and she remembers being unable to sleep for the longest time with him so close and yet so far away.

Eventually, though, she had drifted off to sleep and woken up facing the other way, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

"Huh," he murmured as he woke up as well. "This is..."

She waited for a moment for him to finish, and when he didn't, she swallowed nervously and then said, "Nice?"

He chuckled. "I was gonna say 'unexpected', but yeah...it's nice."

She gets up from her vanity and slips into her shoes before going out into the living room. The kids are with Joel, and her parents are at the theatre, so there's not even someone in the apartment to distract her at the moment.

Fortunately the phone rings, and she grabs it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Jesus, you're fuckin' nervous," Susie grumbles on the other end.

She huffs at that. "I'm not nervous," she insists petulantly.

"Hey, you saw me stumbling over my words and forgetting who the fuck I was the first time I met him," Susie tells her, surprisingly comforting in this moment.

Midge furrows her brow. "Wow. You usually hate the guys I date. I expected you to fight this a hell of a lot more."

Susie scoffs. "Look, I'm not thrilled you're gonna date a comic, but at least this one's funny. You could do a hell of a lot worse than Lenny Bruce. Hell, you have done worse. You had kids with worse."

"My kids are great," Midge retorts.

"Yeah, are you sure they're Joel's?" Susie quips.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Midge squeaks.

Susie laughs in response. "I was fuckin' kidding, Midge! Shit."

The younger woman takes another deep breath and exhales slowly. "I know," she mutters. "I just...yeah, I'm really nervous. I really...I really want this to work," she admits, her voice quiet.

Susie groans. "Miriam, the guy's been in love with you for...well, basically forever. Just get your shit together. I don't think there's anything you could do to send him screaming into the night."

"Maybe show up in a wedding dress?" Midge asks.

"He'd just take you to fuckin' Atlantic City and call your bluff," Susie responds with a chuckle.

"Ah! Shit!"

Midge furrows her brow and looks toward the door. "What time is it?" She asks Susie.

"Uh, it's seven-thirty," Susie answers. "What, you don't have clocks in that fancy apartment?"

"He's not supposed to be here until eight!" Midge squeaks.

"Fuck, doesn't he know you're never on time?" Susie grumbles.

"I've been ready for thirty minutes."

There's silence on the other end. And then, "Fuck! You're already fucking in love with him!"

"Susie, I have to go," Midge says.

"You fuckin' f--"

She puts the phone down and smooths her dress before heading toward the door and opening it slowly, finding Lenny in the hallway, rubbing his knee with one hand and holding a bouquet of flowers in the other.

She tilts her head as she watches him, not yet aware of her presence, and she feels a wave of deep affection for him. "Chair jump out at you?" She asks with a grin.

His head snaps up at her, and he chuckles sheepishly. "Yeah, I haven't had the best luck with this building."

"Maybe I should move," she offers. "Wouldn't want to keep putting you in danger."

He grins and shakes his head. "Or maybe I should just stop pacing nervously because I was forty minutes early getting here." He looks down at the flowers in his hand before moving closer to her. He holds them out. "These are for you. Or your mother if I need to get on her good side," he jokes.

She grins and takes them, inhaling their scent. "They're beautiful, Lenny," she replies, opening the door wider and inviting him in. "So...forty minutes, huh?" She asks as he steps inside.

He shrugs, giving her a sheepish smile.

She heads toward the kitchen, inviting him to follow. "I'm usually ten minutes late for everything," she tells him as she pulls out a vase and fills it with water. "Tonight I was ready an hour early."

His anxiety seems to fade a bit, and he breathes, "Yeah?"

She nods. "Yeah."

He moves toward her then, and once she puts the flowers in the water, he reaches out and brushes a tendril of hair away from her eyes. He cups her cheek in his hand and gazes down at her for a moment before closing the distance and kissing her gently.

She melts immediately, the remainder of her nerves fading, and she wraps her fingers around the lapels of his jacket.

It's a long moment before he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers. "Hungry?" He asks. "I made a reservation like a responsible adult."

"Will you steal my food again?" She teases.

"You did say you love that," he replies, laughing quietly.

She smiles and nods, letting him take her hand and lead her toward the door, where she grabs her purse. As they head for the elevator, she thinks that this could either break her heart or bring it back to life.

She has a pretty good feeling it'll be the latter.

[theresawritesstuff]

MidgeLenny: “Less apologizing. More kissing.”

(this one got steamy)

New Year's Eve 1960

She slipped quietly up to the open bar, her sights set more on the familiar figure standing there than they were on procuring herself a cocktail.

"Fancy seeing you here."

She smirked to herself at the surprise on his face as Lenny turned around, her sneak attack successful.

Still, she kept her tone casual. "Would have thought you'd be ringing in the new year on a beach somewhere instead of back in another blizzard."

Lenny chuckled, waving the bartender over for her. "Beaches are overrated."

She arched a curious brow at him, waiting to see if he felt like giving her any further explanation.

He smiled sheepishly, continuing, "Gordon invited all the guests of the show that were on this past year. My manager thought it would be a good idea. Try to play nice and all that."

"I see," she replied, accepting her martini from the bartender.

He leaned an elbow on the bar, coming in a little closer. "The real question is what brings you here? Because I am quite certain I would have remembered seeing you next to that desk."

She took a swig from her glass. "I work here."

"No kidding."

"Yep. Gordon's resident lady writer as of about a month ago."

His brow quirked, considering his reply.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"So we should look forward to seeing you take your rightful place in the guest chair in the coming new year," he surmised.

Midge let out a humorless chuckle. "That was the idea the way Susie pitched it. Unfortunately, it would seem my comedy was not the set Gordon was interested in when he hired me."

Lenny hummed a monosyllabic reply into his drink.

A brief note conveying so much. Disapproval of her boss being a slime ball, understanding why he was, and how much it must suck for her to deal with day to day…

Honestly she was used to having to make men take her seriously for more than her looks. She'd been doing it her whole life.

She just hadn't realized how much worse it would feel, how much lonelier she would feel facing it after having someone see her, value her, adore her for all that she was like Lenny had…

"Speak of the devil…" Lenny murmured, noting Gordon approaching from across the room.

"Ah fuck." Midge downed the rest of her martini, bracing herself.

His brow lifted almost imperceptibly at the sudden shift in her posture.

She glanced up at him tentatively. "Know any good excuses a gal can use to get out of dancing with her boss?"

He exhaled thoughtfully, glancing over her shoulder to gauge Gordon's arrival.

"I might know one," he replied. "But you'll have to trust me."

"I always have."

He looked into her eyes then, struck by how immediate and decisive her answer had come.

He didn't have the chance to comment.

"Lenny! Good to see you again," her boss greeted warmly, an empty champagne glass in his hand.

"Gordon." Lenny nodded curtly into his whiskey.

"I see you've met our latest addition to the writers room," Gordon commented.

Lenny smirked, setting his glass aside. "Well I generally try to seek out the funniest person in the room at these shindigs for the sake of my sanity."

His arm wrapped around her, hand settling on her hip in a gesture that skirted the line between friendly and just a little bit possessive.

She was more than happy to let him, already feeling that much safer.

"Lenny's an old friend," she explained vaguely, drifting comfortably closer to further illustrate the point.

God he smelled good…

Gordon blinked. "I didn't realize you two were acquainted."

Lenny fought back what she knew to be a very bad smile. "You could say that."

"Uh-huh…" Gordon set his glass on the bar, obviously having a hard time reconciling this fact. "How exactly did you two meet?" 

"Hebrew school," Midge replied brightly, placing a hand along Lenny's back.

Lenny almost broke but covered his laughter by clearing his throat.

Just then the band picked back up, playing the strains of a familiar tune.

"'Scuse us," Lenny smirked, taking the excuse to lead her away out onto the makeshift dance floor.

"There. Consider your dance card full," he drawled.

Midge shook her head, smiling as her hand found its familiar hold at the back of his neck.

"That was your plan. 'I asked her first'?" she laughed.

"I did ask you first," he reminded her. "Back in Miami."

"Ah yes, when I had a hair out of place. You didn't ask, by the way. Just told me that we were going to after a lot of staring."

"The question was implied," he chuckled at her ribbing. "Either way, it worked."

"Yes it did."

All too well she was afraid to admit.

"How am I doing now? I haven't lost a step, have I?"

His tone was playful but she could tell what he was really asking. 

Were they okay now? Or has things at Carnegie ruined his chances with her?

"Oh I think you'll pass," she assured him. "Only way to find out is to keep dancing, though."

"That worried Gordon would try to cut in?" he chuckled, holding her a little tighter.

"Not really. I just…"

A blush crept into her cheeks as she considered the feeling of her hand in his.

"It's nice dancing with you again," she admitted.

"I concur."

He brought her arm up gently, holding it steady just as he had before.

He swayed her quietly for a while before commenting, "You know, we never did find out when they scheduled the ritual sacrifices, did we."

She let out a laugh, resting her head against his collarbone as she recovered. "No I suppose we didn't."

"Something to keep us awake at night," he mused.

As if they needed any more of that.

She looked up to study his face. 

He looked good. Healthy. A little more color to his face than when she'd seen him last. But there was a look behind his eyes she knew all too well. 

"How are you really doing, Lenny?"

He smirked, shrugging in her arms. "Oh you know…Trying to balance work and being a parent, constantly hearing my mother criticize my choices in both."

"I know the feeling…" she murmured.

"It's good though. Or it will be, I think. Eventually. Except..."

He let out a sigh, suddenly looking self conscious.

"Sometimes I still find myself missing the snow. I've grown sort of fond of it."

She smiled softly, looking out at the eddies swirling past the windows. 

"Me too."

One dance led into another.

They talked about their kids, about work, about life, and sometimes not at all if only just to enjoy not having anything funny to say, until the hours on the clock dwindled away.

She'd missed him. God had she missed him.

Judging by the way his hands never left her, she had a feeling he'd missed her too.

A few more songs and another trip to the bar had her cuddled against his shoulder along the outskirts of the party, melting into his embrace, feeling content and safe and just this side of impulsive as the clock counted down.

She looked up into his eyes, fingertips trailing lazy patterns along the nape of his neck, itching to feel the soft curls just above it.

His gaze drifted to her lips and suddenly she barely registered the din of the crowded room just beyond them. 

"Five…Four…three…two…one!"

Her lips found his like it was the most natural thing in the world, as if midnight was theirs alone to share.

She felt his hand tangle in her hair and it was all she could do not to come undone.

He broke away breathlessly, his forehead resting against hers.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"I'm not," she replied, pulling him back in hungrily.

He moaned against her lips, gripping her closer until his willpower won out and he pulled away again, just enough to speak, shaking his head. "I meant for before. How we left things. I should have called. I should have–"

“Lenny. Less apologizing. More kissing," she insisted.

He nodded, shutting up in favor of letting her nibble on his lower lip, pressing her against the wall.

A chorus of auld langs ide reminded them belatedly that they were not in fact entirely alone.

"I don't suppose you know somewhere a little more private we could go…" he ventured.

Midge bit back a smirk, slipping her hand into his as she led him out the door and out into the hall.

His lips were on hers in an instant, following blindly as they retreated, eventually finding their way into an unlocked office.

They tumbled down onto the soft leather couch, hands roaming in search of skin.

"Missed you," she whispered between kisses as she straddled his lap. "Missed this."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as his hand teased its way up her thigh. "Sweetheart, you have no idea."

She was just about to get to work on his belt buckle when the door to the office clicked open.

Mike blinked at them from the doorway, wobbling slightly on his feet.

"Midge?"

She didn't think to move. It was all she could do not to break into a fit of giggles. 

Gordon had sprung for the good champagne.

"Yeah?"

"What're you doing in George's office?" the booker asked.

Lenny cleared his throat.

"Me, I believe was the intent," he quipped, still pinned beneath her, looking rather disheveled and happy for her efforts.

Mike craned his neck slightly, squinting into the dimly lit room. "Oh, hey Lenny."

"Thanks for the invite."

"What are you doing in George's office, Mike?" Midge wondered, hoping it would be enough to distract him away from having a word with human resources when he sobered up.

"I was gonna throw up in his desk," he admitted without remorse.

Midge let out a laugh. "Okay then."

She got to her feet, righting the hem of her dress before helping Lenny to his feet.

"You want us to stick around to hold your hair back? Get you some water or anything like that?" she asked.

Mike had become somewhat of a begrudging friend since she was hired. Sort of a grumpy adopted older brother figure.

He was a good guy.

She figured it was the least she could do to offer.

The fact that it made it less likely that he'd rat her and Lenny out was beside the point.

"Nah," Mike waved her off. "You kids have fun…Just not here."

Lenny gave the other man a lazy salute, taking Midge by the hand. 

"So… Where to now?" he asked once they were out in the hall.

Midge smiled, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. "That depends. Are you going to run away again if I bring you back to the upper west side?"

He shook his head, grinning as he tucked a loose strand of hair back in place behind her ear.

"Not a chance."

[darloe]

Can we not collectively forget the fact that Midge brought Susie to a lesbian bar? Let’s talk more about that.

Like, first of all, how did she even know where the bar is? Because, from what I remember, when she asks around, she doesn’t get that any results. How many people did she ask to get results?

I wonder how many strange looks Midge gets when she walks downtown, because she had to have asked multiple people. Especially since gay/lesbian bars were secret at that time, it wasn’t the coolest thing because of obvious homophobic reasons.

I think I read a fic where Lenny is drunk and when Midge helps him he says he saw her enter that bar and now it’s all I can think about. Just Lenny Bruce passing by and seeing Midge drag Susie into a lesbian bar.

[brightlilith]

Midnight in Paris with Lenny Bruce. 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Lenny Bruce x Fem!Reader

Summary: Drinks, laughter and cigarettes with Lenny Bruce.

Warning: drunk people, I think just

A/N: This series is inspired by the film Midnight in Paris. English isn't my fist language. Any mistakes I apologize for. Constructive criticism and supportive messages are always welcome, it motivates me to keep writing.

I walked through the empty streets of Paris, letting the sound of my shoes hitting the cobblestones echo through the narrow alleyways. I was determined to escape my troubles, at least for one night. The cool night wind gently caressed my face as I immersed myself in the magical atmosphere of the city.

Without a specific destination, I allowed myself to be guided by the golden lights adorning the elegant buildings. I found myself drawn to the magnificent Eiffel Tower, whose nighttime sparkle seemed to hypnotize me. I sat on a nearby bench, allowing myself to be enveloped by the tower's imposing presence and the sense of freedom in the air.

Following my instincts, I made my way to the banks of the River Seine, where the gentle murmur of the water calmed me. The scene was truly enchanting, with the reflective lights dancing on the surface of the river, creating a spectacle of reflections and shadows. I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to simply feel the serenity of that Parisian night.

Still wandering aimlessly, I found myself in Montmartre, immersed in the bohemian atmosphere and narrow cobblestone streets. I felt the artistic vibe of the place, with the illuminated cafes and figures engaged in lively conversations. There, I allowed myself a moment of contemplation, observing the street artists and absorbing the creative energy of the place.

As the night progressed, I finally realized that my troubles had dissipated, at least temporarily. I felt rejuvenated, inspired, and above all, grateful for the opportunity to lose myself in the magical streets of Paris. I understood that sometimes the best solution to problems was to allow yourself to experience the beauty and freedom that life had to offer.

Walking a little further down the cobbled street, I found myself sitting on the steps of the church of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, at Place du Panthéon, watching the lights of the Parisian night. I was far from home, disoriented, and attempting to find meaning in my life.

A distant sound echoed in my ears, a bell, I would say. I looked at my watch and saw that the hands indicated it was midnight, I wouldn't return to my hotel so soon.

Precisely at that moment, an old Peugeot, immersed in a nostalgic aura, drove up Rue de la Montagne Sainte Geneviève, its engine humming softly.

I watched the car with a mixture of fascination and disbelief. It was as if the past was unfolding before my eyes, bringing with it all the charm of 1960s Paris. I felt a wave of excitement run through my body, inspiring me to move forward, explore new possibilities. In that moment, I realized that the answers I was seeking could be hidden in the fabric of time itself.

Inside were two men and two women, stylishly dressed in clothes reminiscent of the 1960s, with champagne and glasses, serving from an open bottle and drinking cheerfully.

"Come, get in." One of the men spoke merrily.

"Huh?" I murmured confused.

"Come on, we're running late." The woman next to the car window spoke, her French accent distinct. She opened the car door.

"You must be mistaking me for someone else."

"Not at all, come on, get in." the same woman said.

"Look, I'm a little drunk."

"Come on, for God's sake, we can't stay here all night." the woman said.

I stood up from where I was and went to the car, the other two people besides whom I was talking were humming drunkenly.

"You have a wonderful old Peugeot, I have one in New York, I usually collect..." I was interrupted by the woman pulling me into the car.

"Let's go" She laughed. "We have parties to go to."

"What parties?" I asked, I was in between the two women.

"Let's go" The other man said, starting the car.

"Here, have some champagne." The other woman handed me a glass of the drink.

The car left the street, leaving behind the majestic facade of the church and taking me somewhere I didn't know, but I didn't care. Inside the car, I contemplated the grandeur of Paris at night, with its illuminated streets and these four lively people. Laughter flowed genuinely from my mouth, maybe exploring Paris wouldn't be so bad after all.

Thank you for reading this far, it makes me very happy.🩵

If you liked it, tell me so I can continue writing this series.

Kisses💋

© morganaah/brightlilith ─ all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other platforms.

[katzell]

Midge and Lenny's alternative adventures

Enough luxuriating in my feelings about Midge and Lenny's goodbye at the airport. Here are some future adventures I'd love to see them have.

Midge and Lenny go on a tour together but after getting tossed off their train by some Christian fundamentalists they wind up roadtripping across the midwest trying to get to Chicago before their show. Susie forbids Midge from ever gigging with Lenny again.

While on a USO tour of military bases in Europe, Midge gets invited to perform at a diplomatic show in East Berlin. And what do you know? Lenny is also on the bill! It all would have been a fun little trip in and out through Checkpoint Charlie if that cat hadn't decided to adopt Lenny and Midge hadn't been convinced they could smuggle it out. How were they to know the cat already had a (high-ranking) family! Susie reaffirms that gigging with Lenny is verboten.

Midge gets offered obscene money to be one of the headliners on an international cruise. She's been in a dry spell because of some Watergate jokes that were honestly pretty tame! At the last minute Lenny gets added to the bill because the male headliner dropped out. Susie reluctantly agrees that they need the money. Of course trapped on a ship winds up being Lenny's worst nightmare so the two of them make a gettaway in Barcelona. Susie's life becomes a living nightmare for months dealing with the breach of contract.

Midge and Lenny never get married, never even properly date. But, yes, there is so much sex. Great sex. The best Midge has ever had. It's distracting really, which might be why she's always a little relieved when they inevitably have to go their separate ways. Love is one thing, but Midge can never let herself become part of someone else's life again. And Lenny is relieved not to carry that responsibility.

But sometimes they argue. Sometimes they have screaming fights and don't speak for months, even years. Lenny doesn't tell Midge things that Midge feels a real friend would know! (But they don't. Lenny doesn't really tell anyone everything). Midge gets stubborn and won't admit when she's wrong. And boy can she be wrong.

During one extended period, Lenny lets himself get talked into a marrying a nice, funny girl who is sweet to his kid and doesn't mind his dicier habits. She's not that sharp, but she's cool, you know. Easy to be with. Then Midge crashes the wedding and by the end of the night he's ready to follow Midge out to her car and speed away into the desert. The annulment goes through in a matter of weeks.

Midge marries three times. Lenny catches the first one in the paper. Some drunken shenanigans in Las Vegas that got out of hand. Lenny sends her a postcard saying "Mazel Tov." Mysteriously Midge writes back, "Once is an accident, twice a coincidence, three times a fucking problem." The second marriage to the singer was widely covered by the press from the moment they were caught exiting his hotel room in the middle of the night. Lenny sent another postcard, "The thing that concerns me most is your shit taste in music." Six months later Midge sends him a ticket to join her at a Diana Ross concert.

The marriage to the media mogul is the one that really pisses Lenny off. It's in the middle of one of their longest dry spells and Lenny sees it as the culmination of their argument: Midge tying herself to wealth, excess, and privilege instead of the subversive values he thought they shared. He almost doesn't go to the wedding, but a nasty part of him want to see this shitshow go down. The feeling deflates when he finds her crying in the bathroom, only an hour after the opulent ceremony. He offers to take her away, but Midge only dries her eyes and says, "Don't worry. I'm going to make him bleed." The divorce settlement becomes the stuff of legends and Midge has Lenny headline the benefit for Midge's new charitable foundation. The endowment will keep the organization is healthy financial shape for decades.

And maybe, just maybe, Midge and Lenny did get married after all. The captain of the cruiseliner said something about them being husband and wife that night they got tanked as they were heading into Barcelona. Neither properly remembers, or really minds. Marriages are dumb anyway. What matters is who sticks around.

[oddballtumbles]

The way the love breaks you down as it builds you into a new person, realizing that just because that they couldn’t be, the future can have it for you still.

[gingerteaonthetardis]

i was tagged by the wonderful @deardiary17 to share 7 (or more) lines from my latest WIP, so that means y'all are getting some unasked for midgelenny! (ask me about this convoluted fic at your own risk <3 i can be so annoying about it for the low low price of one single tumblr ask):

"You missed your calling," she muses, squinting theatrically at the paper napkin.

"Hm?"

She flips it ninety degrees, then ninety degrees again, her pseudo-examination accompanied by a frown. "You should have been a doctor, with this handwriting."

He groans. "Don't put that in your set."

"Why, because it's not funny or because sloppy penmanship is your dirty little secret?"

"Oh, Mrs. Maisel," he says with a mocking smirk; he does so hate to be obvious with her. "I have more dirty little secrets than I know what to do with."

"So, it's just not funny. I'll workshop it," she says, and apparently she means now, because her mouth does not stop moving, even as she folds the napkin up at precise angles and slips it into her purse. "You know, I can sort of almost picture it: Dr. Leonard Bruce, writing bogus Benzedrine prescriptions."

"Still not funny. And 'Bruce' is a stage name. I'd be Dr. Schneider, which is not very sexy."

She winces. "No, it really isn't. Not sure how you'd look in a white coat either…"

"Okay," he tips his head back, draining the last of his drink. "You keep workshopping, I'm going now."

She pouts. "So soon?"

"You'll be glad to be rid of me."

"Yes," she agrees, nodding with slightly too much emphasis. She's tipsy, he realizes. She had to get tipsy to come over and talk to him? He knows the feeling. "You are a terrible bore."

"'Is Lenny Bruce boring at home?'" he quotes, flicking one final salute over his shoulder before he goes. He doesn't want to look back, but he does anyway.

Midge smiles at him, just a little. And crookedly, her perfect lips pursed.

And—my god, he really is so fucking screwed.

[welcomewithmetonight-thechaos]

Blue. A color that has been haunting her dreams ever since that night. Blue things in a very blue room. And now Lenny was alone in that very blue room, alone with that bag. What does it mean when not only the curtains but the very room is blue?

Or, the one where Bob Dylan has no reason to write "Lenny Bruce" till at least thirty years later than he did.

Hi :) I wrote a little something because I love them

[wonderlandleighleigh]

"Pssst."

Rory whirls around, away from Logan, only to come face to face with Midge Maisel.

"Midge!?"

The dock had been empty just a moment ago, but now there's Midge, and Lenny, along with a few other people she doesn't quite recognize, except-

"Is that Shy Baldwin?!"

Logan turns around, then, looking a little caught out. "Uh...Mrs. Maisel. Hello."

"That's Mrs. Schneider to you," Midge corrects him.

"I was promised more booze and a cut throat card game on a boat," a shorter woman complain. "That hasn't happened yet, and my patience is wearing fucking thin."

The other man with them, who is neither Shy or Lenny, chuckles and hands her a flask.

"Bless you, Reggie," Lenny says. "Susie gets for cranky very easily."

"Fuck you, Bruce."

"My point stands."

"What are you two doing here?" Midge asks Rory.

"Logan's sister was having a party and we...and I..." the younger woman looks around, a little lost. "I..."

Midge nods in understanding and takes her hand. "You come with us, honey. We'll fix you a nice cocktail and you can get some air out on the water." She looks at Logan. "She'll catch up with you later."

Logan opens his mouth to argue, but Susie beats him to it.

"You heard Miriam. Get lost, you little shit."

"We will return her safe and sound," Lenny promises. "If not to you, then to her mother."

Logan looks to Rory, lips pressed into N unhappy frown. "Ace?"

She takes a breath. "It's okay. I'll call you later."

Shy waves him off as he hops onto the yacht that Logan had intended for them to steal. "All aboard the Natural Harmony."

Rory waves to Logan as she lets herself be pulled into the yacht.

*****

"So," Reggie says as he puffs on a cigar, looking at his cards. "Your boyfriend's father, who gave you an internship at one of his papers, told you you were not good enough to be a journalist."

Rory nods uncomfortably, looking away. "Yes."

"Mitchum Huntzberger, who expects his son to follow in his footsteps, including marrying a gold-digging trophy wife instead of finding a woman of substance," Lenny grumbles.

Rory frowns at him.

"Men like Mitchum do not value worldly women," Lenny goes on. "And he certainly doesn't want one for a daughter-in-law."

"Also your mother is poor," Susie adds.

"What?" Rory snaps. "No, she's-"

"By his standards she is," Susie interrupts her. "I've visited Stars Hollow. I've seen your house. In Huntzberger's world, your mother is dirt fucking poor, even if by reality's standards, she does fine."

"The point is," Shy cuts in as he parks the yacht not too far from the dock, but far enough to get some of that wonderful sea air Midge had promised. "That this man's motivations for trying to crush your self confidence have very, very little to do with your abilities, and have everything to do with the fact that he doesn't like that you are dating his son."

"Listen to Shy," Lenny says. "And if you're not willing to listen to Shy, listen to the man who has been proofreading your work for a decade." He grins at her kindly. "There is always room for improvement. Always. No one is perfect. But your work is solid. You've worked hard for that solidity. One old, coke-adled fuckwit's opinion should not be a factor in your decision-making process."

"Coke-adled?'" Rory asks, confused.

"Never you mind, my darling," Lenny assures her.

"I am making sidecars," Shy announces. "Who wants one?"

"Rory does," Midge announces, wrapping an arm around her and hugging her gently. "And so do I."

"Is there whiskey?" Susie asks.

"There is always whiskey," Shy promises.

Rory bites her lip before getting to her feet and carefully walking over to Shy. "Mr. Baldwin?"

"Yes?" He asks without looking up from his bar tending. "Did you want something different? I could make you an old fashioned, or-"

"Logan- my biyfriend...he and I were...I'm sorry. I...I just felt so out of control and I felt like I needed to do something crazy and out of control to feel in control again and today was just so awful and I...we...we were planning on stealing your yacht. I'm really sorry."

Shy looks up at her and chuckles softly. "Oh, I know." He pours a sidecar into a coup glass and hands it off to her. "Isn't this so much better?"

Rory smiles gratefully and nods as she takes the drink.

"Do you want my opinion?" Shy asks as he pours another, and hands it off to Midge.

Rory takes a sip of her drink. "Yes, I do."

"People are always going to say and do and think what they want," he says as he opens an expensive bottle of whiskey. "No matter what you say and do and think. The only way to get what you want in this world is to believe and invest in yourself, and ignore all the bullshit."

"Here, here," Midge crows.

"Besides," Reggie comments as he wins a hand. "What's one stuffy white dude's opinion, steeped in ulterior motives, against Lenny Fucking Bruce telling you how good you are?"

The group laughs at that, including Rory.

"You know what you need?" Midge says.

"What?" Rory frowns.

"A fucking break," the older woman answers. "Tomorrow. You and me. Spa day. Nails, hair, facials, fancy lunch. You'll feel like a new woman."

Rory beams. "That sounds amazing. I mean...it really sounds great. I just..." she looks around at the water, her face crumbling a little. "I can't remember the last time I had a break."

Susie watches, eyes wide in concern. "Gimme your phone."

"What-"

"Phone," Susie repeats, holding out a hand.

Rory hands it over.

"Midge, who am I adding to the fuck off tomorrow text message?" Susie asks.

"The mother, the grandparents, Logan the boyfriend, Paris and Lane the best friends," Midge rattles off.

Susie nods and gets to work.

"I don't know how you work that shit so fast," Shy marvels. "I can't text for crap."

"That's because you're the talent," Reggie reminds him. "Us managers, we had to figure it out and fast."

"Good evening - Rory will be out of reach all day tomorrow. She'll be having a spa day with Mrs. Maisel. Unless someone has died you can kindly fuck off until Sunday.

Sincerely,

The scheduling department of Susie Myerson and Associates."

"You can't send that!" Rory cries.

"Oops, finger slipped," Susie responds, having already sent it.

"Susie!" Rory huffs. "Now all of them are going to be worried and start-"

The texts flood in after that, and the cell phone rings. Midge snatches it and answers.

"Lorelai, she's fine," Midge says automatically. "Tell everyone she's fine and she just needs a break. Because she needs a break. No, now isn't a good time, but Lenny and I have her, and we'll bring her home in a couple of hours. I'll pick her up for our spa day early tomorrow. Okay? ...okay. bye, sweetie."

Midge hangs up and hands the phone back to Rory. "They can all wait."

Rory nods, tempted to look at the texts from Logan and Paris, but winds up looking at Lane's response instead.

"Omg have so much fun. Can't wait to hear all about it! Talk to you Sunday!!!"

She smiles.

*****

She gets home and her mother is waiting for her.

"I'm worried," Lorelai tells her. "That text had me really, really worried."

Rory nods and sits next to her on the couch. "Yeah. I uh...I know. I just...i think the pressure is really getting to me. Like really, really getting to me."

"So, spa day?" Lorelai inquires.

"Spa day," Rory confirms. "No Logan. No school stuff. Just...spa day."

"You wanna fill me in on whats going on?" Lorelai presses. "You're home in one piece, dropped off by people i trust, I promise I won't be mad."

Rory takes a breath. "I almost stole a yacht tonight. Because...because I feel like I'm losing my mind. But it was Shy Baldwin's yacht, and we ran into him and Midge and Lenny and Susie and Reggie before we could, and...they chased Logan away, and...and...Mom, I think I'm just...breaking. I'm breaking."

"Oh, hon," Lorelai says sympathetically. "I'm so glad you didn't steal a yacht. But also, if you're losing it, let's...let's plan something fun for the summer. Let's get outta here. Get you away from all the stress. We can hit the beach or go to the city. We can do our rollercoaster tour early. We don't have to wait for graduation. Whatever you need."

Rory sniffles and nods, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. "Thanks."

"Thanks for telling me."

Rory nods and wipes her eyes.

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

189. Say Don't Go

(A very sad prequel to Make You Feel My Love. Thanks @wonderlandleighleigh for proofing and approving.)

She stands in the front hall with her suitcases.

It’s time to go. She’s spent too much time here away from her kids, away from her work. She’s done nothing but cook and clean and comfort him while he goes through withdrawal. Any more time away, and everyone will start to forget she ever existed.

But if he asked her not to go, she would stay forever.

But this man who she has loved for so very long, who just last night whispered the sweetest things she’s ever heard, cannot be what she needs. She’s so scared that if she stays, she will end up watching him fall back into the habits that killed him for three minutes just a month ago.

Ever since that night together in his very blue room, she’s known they were a shot in the dark. The odds of things working out between them were so very slim. Especially once she discovered his little black bag. The arrests, she can deal with. She has plenty of her own. But the drugs are too terrifying, a dark cloud that will hang over any relationship they attempt to pursue.

So she stands there, bags packed, and gazes sadly up at him. “Ethan and Esther go back to school on Tuesday, and they need me,” she murmurs. “And if I stay any longer, Susie’s going to come out here and drag me back by my hair.”

He nods in understanding, but she can see the sadness he’s trying to conceal, and all she wants him to say is Don’t go.

Say, “Don’t go.” Say, “Don’t go.” Say, “Don’t go.”

But he won’t. Because for all of Lenny’s faults, he has always put her above himself, has always wanted what’s best for her. So he’s silent, and she wants to scream because of it.

She moves to him, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him softly. “Last night was…perfect,” she whispers, just barely able to keep her tears at bay.

He nods, his hands just ghosting her hips as they stand there, neither one truly ready to let go. She sighs sadly and then indulges in one more kiss, this one deeper. His grip on her hips tightens just the slightest bit, and she strokes her fingers through his curls, not ready for it to end.

But it does. She returns to the ground from tiptoes and grazes her thumbs over his cheekbones before slipping out of his grasp and picking up her suitcase. She opens the door and stands halfway out of it before looking back at him, holding out hope for him to ask her to stay.

But he won’t.

He doesn’t.

“Bye, Lenny,” she breathes before closing the door behind her.

She manages to keep it together as she heads down the path to her waiting taxi, and once they make the turn off of his street, she finally lets the tears fall.

[theresawritesstuff]

“Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?”

I've been trying to get this one right for a long time. I feel like I wrote the start of at least five different versions before this one... Thanks for being patient 😘

Denver, 1965

“That…” Lenny managed finally. “That is quite the bed.”

The pair of them had been standing at the end of the king sized, pillow laden beast of a mattress for God only knows how long. 

Just staring, bags in hand like a couple of idiots.

“Yes it is,” Midge agreed, equally dumbstruck. 

“The uh…” She cleared her throat. “The bookings were part of the tour deal. I guess they thought you were Mister Maisel.”

He nodded absently. “Happens.”

“They probably overbooked. Thought they were doing us a favor with the upgrade,” she reasoned.

“Probably…”

They'd been on tour together for about a week with Lenny as her opener. She still couldn't quite believe it but she was now the bigger name out of the two of them.

She understood the how and why. It was just a little hard to reconcile. It didn't feel like it should be real.

Not like this at least…

Then again nothing had truly felt real since that night in San Francisco.

One minute she's chain smoking in the alley, fighting for her life against a panic attack, the next her manager is marching back into that hell hole of a club only to drag Lenny out by his ear to check him into rehab.

But even after he got out and Susie managed to clean up some of his legal messes the clubs still wouldn't touch him on his own merits.

Which is where she came in.

She'd hoped it could be a way for her to repay some of the favors he'd done for her when she’d hit a career low. To show him he still had her support. That she still cared about him, deeply. 

She'd never once stopped caring about him. Never would.

She would always love him.

But they'd barely spoken. At least not anything of consequence.

He didn't seem to think they had much left to say…

“I’ll um… You should take it. I can sleep on the couch,” he offered, breaking himself away from the bed to set his suitcase by the dresser.

Before he got any ideas…

They'd had their share of falling into bed with each other over the years but with them working together now he didn't feel like he was in any position to assume.

She'd always been very clear about her feelings on mixing business with pleasure.

And they hadn't exactly been together anytime recently. Things change. She might not want him anymore. He wouldn't blame her.

Certainly not after she and Susie had basically dragged him out of the gutter.

He'd never wanted her to see him like that. To see that he was so far gone. That all was very much not well.

Living on opposite coasts had made it easier to hide. 

They'd written a few letters. Shared a couple of phone calls, but he'd never let on just how bad off he was. He could barely admit it to himself.

He didn't want her help.

She gave it to him anyway.

Thank god she was just as stubborn as he was.

“What couch?” Midge wondered.

He looked up, glancing around the room.

Mountain view. 

Bathroom.

Absurdly inviting bed…

Coffee table.

Two chairs.

No couch.

“Oh…” he blinked. “Well there were a few promising options in the lobby.”

She looked at him skeptically. “You're kidding.”

“No, they really did look quite comfortable. Nice plush upholstery.”

Midge rolled her eyes, setting her bag down. “I know Susie had to bail on this stop to take care of business in New York, but if she hears you slept in the lobby you and I both will never hear the end of it.” 

He let out a sigh, deflating. “You're probably right.”

“You know I'm right.”

He nodded tiredly, swiping a thoughtful hand over his mouth.

Her manager had put in a lot of effort trying to turn his image around.

Their manager, he corrected himself mentally.

He was still having a hard time coming to terms with that one. 

He wasn't used to representation that didn't hound him for payment at every turn.

Lenny looked around the room pensively, snapping his fingers towards the sitting area.

“Chair. Chair looks good.”

He sat down, curling his long frame up onto the seat, testing the theory.

Midge sat down on the edge of the bed across from him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “The chiropractor Susie hired to follow you around is gonna love that.”

“I've had worse,” he replied through a grimace he tried to pass off as a smirk.

A scoff of a laugh escaped her lips as she looked out the window at the storm brewing outside.

“This feels familiar…”

“How so?” he wondered, adjusting his position.

“The snow.” She gestured to the space between them. “You keeping a respectable distance.”

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Seemed like the safe option.”

“Is it because I talk to my shoes? I don't do that in front of just anyone you know,” she quipped.

“Lucky me. Some guys would pay good money for that.” 

The chair reclined unexpectedly with a cartoonish clank of metal and springs beneath the seat, becoming even less comfortable than before.

“Lenny…”

“Hm?” he replied, attempting nonchalance.

“You've been avoiding me,” she informed him softly. “Care to tell me why?”

“I would not call going on tour together avoiding you,” he batted back lightly.

She waited patiently for his answer.

He huffed out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“I've been trying to work out why it is that I'm here,” he admitted.

“Here as in the tour or more in a grand existential sense?”

To his noncommittal wave of a hand she replied “I needed an opener, you needed a job.”

“You felt compelled to fix my mess,” he corrected.

Midge blinked, her brow furrowing. “That's not–”

“I'm not angry,” he assured her, sitting up slowly. “I was for a little while, but that was more with myself than anything else. For giving you no other choice but to either turn your back or step in and try to put Humpty Dumpty back together.”

She shook her head, perplexed. “You needed help. We help each other. That's how we've always been.”

He smirked ruefully at the assertion. “I haven't been any help to you in a long time.”

Midge blinked.

She didn't have a comeback for that one.

“It's late,” he reminded her gently, stealing a decorative pillow from the other chair for his head. “You should try to get some rest.”

Her mouth set firmly as she looked back out the window, finding herself uncharacteristically speechless 

She wanted to argue. To remind him of everything they'd been through. To tell him exactly what seeing him at his lowest had done to her. What the thought of losing him had done…

But the words just wouldn't come.

Instead she got up from the bed, grabbing her night things from her suitcase to head for the bathroom to get changed.

Once she was alone she exhaled a shaky breath, gripping the sink tiredly.

She never asked Susie what it was she'd said to Lenny that night. 

Now she was starting to wish she had…

After a moment, she straightened up to get ready for bed, removing her earrings quickly then reaching around to unclasp her necklace.

Only it wouldn't budge.

She turned to look over her shoulder in the mirror, her fingers fumbling as the metal caught in the lace overlay of her dress.

The more she tried, the more tangled it became.

She begrudgingly turned to look at the door, weighing her options.

Fuck it. 

Pride hasn't done either of them any favors lately anyway.

“...Lenny?” she called out sheepishly.

“What?” 

She swallowed.

“I need your help.”

He appeared in the doorway a moment later, his tie and jacket removed.

She gestured helplessly, giving it one more attempt on her own. “It's stuck.”

“Yes I can see that…” he chuckled. 

She shot him a look.

“Alright, hang on,” he assured her, holding up his hands in a truce.

He came up behind her slowly, standing close so that he could see what he was doing.

Midge stayed quiet, attempting to hold her hair out of his way, the gravity of his presence all too familiar a temptation.

“Need your reading glasses?” she teased, fighting to ignore the butterflies she felt as his fingers brushed incidentally along her neck.

Lenny smirked. “I'll manage, thank you. Your various clasps haven't beaten me yet.”

Like she needed the reminder…

“There,” he said in triumph after a moment, reaching around her to set the necklace on the edge of the sink.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

They stood frozen, neither one wanting to be the first to pull away.

“You, uh,” Lenny hesitated, wetting his lips. “You want help with the zipper too?”

Midge nodded, glancing over her shoulder up at him. “If you don't mind…”

He nodded in the mirror in lieu of reply.

His hand settled tentatively against her dress, one warm and steadying as the other slowly skimmed it's way down, sending a thrilling shiver along her spine.

“This was never about fixing you, you know,” she murmured quietly before he pulled away. “I don't… You're not broken. Not to me.”

“I'm a little broken, hate to break it to you,” he chuckled self-deprecatingly.

She took the hand still resting against her hip in her own, holding it fast.

“No more than I am.”

His eyes grew soft as he looked down at their entwined fingers.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nodded, turning to face him.

“Why did Susie really take me on?”

To her furrowed brow, he reasoned, “Don't get me wrong. The comedy comeback story is good, but if that had been the real reason she would have reached out way before San Francisco.”

Midge looked down at the floor between them, running her thumb softly along his.

“Because I needed her to,” she whispered.

“Why–”

“I couldn't live with the idea of a world without you in it,” she cut off, her voice hoarse with the threat of tears. “You don't love someone for half a decade and then just shrug and throw in the towel while they slowly kill themselves in front of you. And don't try to say that wasn't what was happening because you and I both know that–”

He reached out then, pulling her close as his lips collided with hers in a tender, searing kiss.

Her hands fisted in his shirt as he caressed her jaw, clinging to him, desperate to feel that it was real.

That he was still there, whole and steady, heart still beating beneath her fingertips, and not just a cherished memory.

He pulled away slowly, resting his forehead to hers. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the moisture from the corner of her eye. “Thank you for never giving up on me. You had every right to.”

“And a few very good reasons not to,” she reminded him.

He smiled softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. “So five years, hm?”

She bit back a laugh. “Give or take.”

He smirked. “I think I've got you beat.”

“Oh yeah?” she wondered. “By how much?”

He shrugged. “A bit.”

“Hm.” She nodded, biting her lip thoughtfully. “What do you propose we do about it?”

“Well, you did basically save my life by intervening in it. I suppose we can call it even,” he chuckled, arching a playful brow. “Why, did you have some other ideas?”

She took his hand in hers, pulling him gently towards the bedroom. “We can figure it out in the morning. Until then…Think you can still manage my show corset?”

He grinned, letting her lead. “One way to find out.”

She smiled as her dress slipped to the floor, taking his breath away before coming to reclaim his lips.

He wrapped her in his arms, savoring every inch of her as they stumbled to bed where she reminded him what it feels like to be truly alive.

And just how grateful they both were for it.

[a-wolf-at-the-door]

"Apple, Meet Tree" [AO3]

Fandom: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Relationships: Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel, Ethan Maisel & Miriam "Midge" Maisel

Words: 7,762

Chapters: 2/2

Summary: What Ethan noticed, and what he did about it.

What Kitty planned, and how it worked. (Ethan's and Kitty’s POV throughout the series and a post-finale AU).

Notes: Ethan Maisel is an observant kid, and after the staring and the sleeping in the hall and stuff do we really think he's in the happy group??? Nevertheless this is largely fluffy and sweet, and it involves Ethan following in the family footsteps in more ways than one, and Kitty doing the same. But this story does touch on a few more grown-up themes through their young and innocent eyes, so heads up. Potential CW (very brief mentions by a narrator who doesn't understand them) for the following topics: postpartum depression, body dysmorphia/eating disorder, infidelity, alcoholism and drug abuse

[brightlilith]

I wish Lenny had a happy ending with Midge 🥲

[llllllllllppppppp]

Have you wondered about the meaning of the piece of paper Midge wrote for her future self when she was in college? She wrote: "No." I have a theory. What if she meant not to get married right away and live life a little first? What if that's why she hesitated before accepting Joel's marriage proposal? I envision Midge in AU turning down Joel's proposal and going back to the strip club to see young Lenny perform again, this time by herself. She meets Lenny at the bar, and changes her and his future forever. Who knows, maybe Midge's first-time (drunk) performance is not about her husband leaving her but her refusing to get married right after college and causing a scandal among friends and families.

[jojoblessed365]

Literati fans and writers, listen up:

In my upcoming fic, there will be a very special dance scene between Jess and Rory... It's going to be steamy, romantic and bring out all the feels!!!

The only thing is, I don't know whether Jess is a good dancer or not... Be it in canon or fanon, so which dances do you think he could be fluent in: