#he's so fucking. man goes and buys a new house because his bff says the kitchen in his current home is too small.

[queerdiazs]

wip wednesday

tagged by @wikiangela whose car sex fic has me SAT

i started the heart attack fic for bthb, but i'm gonna keep that to myself until it's finished and posted because i’m very insecure lmao, so have a little bit of eddie vs the hoa

“You sound jealous.”  Eddie balks, insulted at the mere suggestion that he’s jealous of somebody as contemptuous as Abbie Jean Gentry. “I am not!” He snorts. “I have never in my thirty-two years of life—count ‘em, thirty-two—I have been shot and stuck beneath the ground and lost my wife and been to war, but I have never, ever been jealous of anybody, and especially not motherfucking—” “Could’ve fooled me,” Buck interrupts, elbowing him in the side and motioning with his head at the woman walking up to their stall. “Hi, Mrs. Gentry.”  Abbie Jean Gentry is a beautiful, chubby woman with long, curling black hair and big, light green eyes. Her voice is deep and her laugh is infectious and she pulls off heels just as well as sneakers; she commands any room she walks into and makes sure to shake the hands of every person she meets and does her best to help solve whatever problem she’s faced with.  She’s not a bad person.  Eddie can’t stand her.  “Hi, Buck.” She smiles, all straight white teeth, and Eddie remembers the two years he wore braces with disdain. His sisters were ruthless when they made fun of him. “How are you?”  “Enjoying all these sweet treats,” Buck says, laughing, and hands the last sugar cookie off to one of the little kids that were following Chris around earlier. “Looks like the sale’s going well.”  She nods, appraising the fish bowl full of paper bills and coins at the edge of their table. It’s not as full as hers—she’s probably so proud. “It’s going even better than I expected,” she agrees, judging their clutter of cupcakes and broken cookies. “Did you make these yourself, Buck?”  “Huh? Oh, no.” Buck grins, hooking his thumb toward Eddie. “Eddie helped.”  Abbie Jean Gentry blinks, feigning surprise. “Oh, Mr. Diaz.” She smiles, close-mouthed and thin. “I didn’t see you there.”  Funny. Eddie’s standing right next to Buck, near enough their shoulders are touching. One can’t notice and speak with Buck without noticing the other.  Eddie curls his lip up. “I’m sure you didn’t.”  Buck elbows Eddie again, hard enough to hurt this time. “You’ll have to excuse him,” he says, giving her his best grin and wow, his best friend is a suck up. “We stayed up late last night finishing the cookies and cupcakes, and he hasn’t had anything to eat today except sweets.” 

this fic accidentally turned into a whole thing so we’ll see where it goes

no pressure tagging: @disasterbuckdiaz, @thewolvesof1998, @wildlife4life, @alyxmastershipper because i saw you say something about sub eddie 👁️, @shitouttabuck, @eddiediaztho 💜, @diazblunt, @watchyourbuck, @try-set-me-on-fire, @honestlydarkprincess, @housewifebuck, and uh whoever else 🫶🏼

[chainofclovers]

Grace and Frankie 7x1 - 7x4 thoughts

Meh? Like...I love them so much, but...meh?

(I did enjoy this line about brunch.)

I really loved season 6 of Grace and Frankie. I thought it was well-paced, largely very well-acted, generally well-written, and it culminated in a massive moment of character development for the title characters, who, having spent years growing closer and being there for each other when others could not or would not be, finally articulate to each other that they are the primary person in each other’s lives. Platonic gal pal soulmate BFF emotional support witches 4 lyfe!

I know progress isn’t always linear, and in fact is very rarely linear, but after a moment that significant, you’d think the writers on this show would maybe come up with some more interesting things for these characters to do than spin in circles?

@bristler and I watched on Friday night, and just this morning over breakfast had a good conversation about the first four episodes of the new season now that they have settled in our brains a bit. We concluded that the writing (often noticeably clunky, like the dialogue is responsible for more narration than usual) and the tone (aggressively wacky) feel really off, especially compared to the prior season. I think we diagnosed the big issue, which is that Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda are by far the most talented actors on this show (if you disagree, fight me in the parking lot) and it feels surprisingly unfortunate that their characters have, to this point in the new season, pretty much figured out their perspectives on each other. No matter how people feel about Grace and Frankie’s sexualities, the whole show has been about them finding each other and getting in deeper and deeper, and it’s less interesting to watch other characters have realizations about that than it is to watch Grace and Frankie having realizations about themselves. If the title characters are now limited to reacting to other people’s actions, and the title characters are played by the best actors on the show, the whole show’s gonna suffer. And is suffering, very much so, at least for these first four episodes. I’m definitely still excited for the final twelve in 2022 (twelve! I cannot believe this season will have sixteen eps!), but I’m pretty disappointed so far.

Stuff I Loved:

The family brunch. These families have been entwined for so long, and the backstory for this particular brunch was so fun (even though I didn’t care for the effects they did to depict Grace and Robert 25 years ago; there was no need for a visual flashback in the scene). I love that Grace hit Frankie with a wiffle ball bat. I love that the two couples realized some of the emotional reasons behind their decisions to lie to each other about Bud’s Bunny and about M’Challah. I love the way Jane Fonda sounds uttering the phrase “Bud’s Bunny” with little to no irony. I love that Grace is able to recognize and articulate just how deep and miserable her anger issues were, albeit with the continued help of her omnipresent martini, and that Frankie told her she’d now make up a holiday in order to spend more time with Grace. I really, really hope Frankie does exactly this at some point in the remaining episodes of the season. I love that Grace is generally a pretty good person now, with aspirations of being a delightful person. I love that she and Frankie don’t have it in them to stay angry with each other, and I love all the evidence that they really, really talk to each other about everything now.

Frankie talking to the man at the office (I don’t remember who he was supposed to be? A toilet manufacturer? I didn’t mention this before, but I actually got pretty high while watching?!? Believe it or not, this was the first time I smoked pot and watched Grace and Frankie at the same time despite having enjoyed both activities on their own for quite some time. I would recommend the combo! And I think I still pretty much got what was happening) about paying for the toilet parts with candy. This whole subplot with the money laundering was absurd and not that interesting, but I loved this particular scene because it was finally evidence of some really thoughtful writing. The concepts aren’t enough! You have to write them into good dialogue! And the whole cash/candy thing was a moment of dialogue that only someone as hilarious as Lily Tomlin could pull off. Which she did, IMO.

In a show about super messy people, Coyote has stayed sober this entire time. He is sober, employed, in love, and preparing to buy a full-sized house with his partner. He hasn’t murdered anyone in his family. Hasn’t even attempted murder once.

In 2017 or whatever, Grace Hanson would have been furious about Frankie using obscure Beatles references like a treasure map when hiding the cash. But here in 2021, she cooperates and even gets in on the fun. The writing is very unsubtle this season, but that did feel like a reasonably subtle moment that shows how good of a partner she is for Frankie. (Platonic, of course! So platonic. Female friendship, amirite?)

Stuff I Did NOT Love and Felt Incredibly Negative About:

Brianna. I can only conclude that June Diane Raphael has decided she’s happy with playing a character whose primary role in life is to be hot and mean. She succeeds at being hot and mean, but I have reached my limit with this character. I realize we’re only a quarter of the way into the season, but I don’t think I can take another arc about her learning to compromise only to reveal to Barry that she never intended to compromise at all. At this point, it’s both abusive and boring. How?! The Grace/Brianna parallels aren’t interesting anymore, because one character has grown and the other is stagnant. I get that Brianna was raised in an emotionally stilted environment by two unhealthy people. But I think it would be very cool if she could learn something from her mother at this point. Grace has put a ton of effort into dealing with her “rabbit-killing, mad-at-the-world anger.” She’s put a ton of effort into figuring out what makes her happy, what she wants her life to look like. She’s even started accepting her age and abilities without shame. And that growth is believable; Grace is still short-tempered and she still slugs back way too many martinis and she struggles to articulate certain things, but she’s grown into a truly lovely human. And while, as a daughter with a mother, I can absolutely attest to the fact that it can be difficult and uncomfortable to learn lessons from one’s mother, Brianna really, really should. Grace spent decades letting anger and shame trap her in a small, miserable life. Brianna—and even Mallory, who just seems like a vapid idiot this season—are traveling that same path, but there’s someone right there who could really help, maybe even more than Frankie helped when the Hanson girls were first growing up.

The arraignment. The scene might’ve been salvageable if it was filmed from Grace’s perspective, and filmed to reflect how surreal and improbable it all was. But speaking of non-linear progress, this scene erased everything Nick Skolka has done to put himself in my good graces (LOL) over the past couple seasons. I mean, I tried, man. I even wrote fic about Nick, Grace, and Frankie making a genuine effort at polyamory. But the arraignment is so emotionally manipulative, such a slap in the face of everything Grace has worked for, and while we’re certainly “supposed” to feel the weight of the moment, I mean, it’s not like we’re supposed to be like, “Oh, cool, we’re in a rom com now! This is adorable!” it still felt bad and unearned and slapdash.

And I want Frankie to process these things with her! Frankie seems so happy to have all this information about Grace and how Grace feels, but I want to see scenes in which we can gain an understanding of how Frankie actually feels. Hearing Frankie talk to other people about how Grace feels is interesting, but it’s like there’s no room in these episodes for us to learn anything new about Frankie herself.

Grace’s transitional wig. Is so. Bad. It is. Such a. Bad wig. Oof. I mean, I like what they’re doing with Grace’s hair from a plot perspective, although (see one bullet up) I would really like to get more of an understanding of what’s happening in Grace’s head, not just on top of her head. And gosh, Frankie would be a really good person to talk to about this in a conversation that lasts longer than 30 seconds. But the wig! She’s in a wig in all four episodes, of course, since Jane Fonda went grey and cut her hair short before they started filming this season. The wig for episodes 1 and 2 is fine; it’s a good approximation of Grace’s typical hair, and of course we know that canonically Grace’s hair isn’t 100% her own hair anyway. But the wig with grey roots looks so weird. The part that’s growing out doesn’t look the same as the hair on the wig from 1 and 2. And the grey roots look like a yarmulke. I cannot wait to get to the point in the season when Grace goes all the way grey.

(One more thing about the hair. I can’t let it go. I paused the show while we were watching to rant, but I’m not done.) I had the great privilege of seeing Jane Fonda in person at a protest in 2019. She is an insanely beautiful human. She was growing her hair out and it was partially dyed blonde and partially grey. It looked really cool. I am not ashamed to say I spent that day learning many things about the climate crisis and about Jane Fonda’s hair. Having seen her in real life with her real hair looking that fucking great, I just have a an extra-large grudge against everyone involved in that horrible wig. The wig is necessary, but it didn’t have to be this bad.

What Do I Care About Now?

I am pretty intrigued by the way Grace threw out her real age in a conversation with Nick and Elena. She has nothing to fear anymore! She’s so chill about aging! What could go wrong? I assume that Nick and Elena maneuvering for Nick to be on house arrest in Grace's house specifically has to do with the fact that Grace is 82. She’s gonna find out that Nick is allowed to be with her because she’s ancient and helpless and the court took pity. Or something like that. She’s going to feel betrayed on top of feeling stifled and overwhelmed by Nick’s presence. I want to see where this goes for sure.

Other than that, and other than the fact that I really do continue to believe this show is moving in a direction in which Grace and Frankie will choose each other, I feel very whatever about this whole thing. I love this show and I will always appreciate this show for giving me some incredible characters to spend years of my life writing about, and for bringing me some pretty amazing friendships. Speaking of those friendships, yesterday @ellydash and @telanu and I were talking about some of the incredible TV we’ve watched recently, like Ted Lasso and Hacks and Fleabag and Killing Eve, and how great it feels to watch beautifully written TV crafted by writers who are profoundly—organically yet intentionally—attuned to even the most minor character’s rhythm. The disappointment of these first few episodes of the new G&F season feels like a mild disappointment rather than a sharp heartbreak, and that has a lot to do with being deeply invested in other shows that could also go in all kinds of different directions but with writing I fundamentally trust.

Also Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin are my forever faves and my appreciation for their performances and general awesomeness onscreen and in life is undiminished. So that’s pretty cool.

[snelbz]

Lost Time, Chapter Seven

A/N: How does a new update sound, just over a year after the last one? I’m sorry it’s taken so long, but sometimes a story just stops speaking to you. And then, thanks to your kickass bff, you’re feeling it again, and she helps you write it. Co-written, as always, with the amazing @tacmc. Enjoy!

It wasn’t that Miryam was incapable of taking care of the things in the old house. She was only in her late forties, she still had quite a bit of life in her yet. But when Drakon had gotten sick, a lot of things had become unimportant and now she was the only one left to do it. Or so she thought.

She heard a banging from in the garage and when she hurried to the door and threw it open, she found Azriel on his hands and knees, cleaning up a bucket of screwdrivers and drill bits.

“Oh, uh, hey, mom,” he said, blushing.

“What are you doing?” She asked. “What happened?”

“Well, I was trying to surprise you by fixing the back door, but thanks to Dad's impeccable organizational skills...” He shook the bucket for emphasis. “Surprise, I guess.”

Miryam chuckled, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed. “I haven’t been in here in a while. I’m surprised it’s as organized as it is.”

Azriel shook his head, climbing to his feet and dusting off his hands. “I think you and I and dad all have very different definitions of the word organized.”

Her grin widened as she took a sip from her steaming coffee mug. “Maybe so. I appreciate you fixing the door, though. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“I’ve got nothing else to do, figured I would help out,” he muttered, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat that had already begun to form on his brow. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

“Oh, baby,” she came down the steps and rested her hand on his cheek. “You’re going to regret asking me that.

Three hours later, Azriel was convinced she had a list stashed away that was full of shit that had never been worked on in the house and was just ticking them off one by one. He scooped out the last wad of wet leaves and other unknown things from the gutters and took a deep breath as he rested his forehead on the top rung. Even though it was still spring, sweat was dripping off of him and he climbed down the ladder before any could drip in his eyes. A fall from a third-story roof is the last thing he needed right now.

The front door shut and Miryam appeared on the porch, a glass of water in her hand. “How’s it going?”

He was still trying to catch his breath as he crossed the lawn and took the glass from her. “All done. Just finished the gutter across the third story.”

Without hesitation, he poured the ice-cold water over his head.

“Azriel!” Miryam laughed, jumping back. She shook her head. “I’ll go get you a towel.”

He pulled the soaked, gray t-shirt over his head and tossed it to the porch, hearing it smack the wood with a wet slap.

He turned his face up to the late-morning sun and sighed.

It had been three days since he’d been to Elain’s. He knew Miryam was right, if he was here to fix his relationship with her, he needed to fix them. And clearly, there was the whole Lucien thing he wasn’t anticipating, so that complicated things.

But he also didn’t want to smother her.

So he’d laid low the past few days, editing pictures, even calling and canceling all of his upcoming bookings. If he was home, he was home. But she was always in the back of his mind.

And Novan. Even if he couldn’t make things work with Elain - the thought nearly gutted him - as more than friends, he still had his son to think about.

Maybe he’d stop by her house again in the morning, but even though mowing the grass wasn’t on the list, the grass was already long, and while he was fixing everything else, he may as well be cutting the grass, too. Today was to be spent helping his mom, the woman that raised him, and brought him ice cold water to drink every thirty minutes as he worked.

Especially before it could get any longer as the Spring heat progressed.

He found the mower in the back shed, but when he tried to start it, it only sputtered.

“Hasn’t worked for a while.”

“Fuck!” Azriel said, and jumped, only to be met with Miryam’s raised brow, a towel in one of her hands, a newly filled glass of water in her other. He muttered, “Sorry. Thanks.” This time, he drank the water and tossed the towel over his shoulder.

She laughed, quietly. “It’s okay, honey, I think I’m aware that you use such language in your twenties. Anyway, Drakon ordered a part to fix it, but he got too sick before it arrived to do so. It’s in the garage, if you want to give it a go.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “I can try, but I make no promises.”

She smiled. “It’s okay, hun. If it doesn’t work, I can just buy a new one.”

Azriel had hauled the busted push mower into the garage, but decided he could use a few minutes to breathe. He entered the house and found Miryam in the living room. He fell onto the couch next to her.

She pushed him away. “Get your sweaty self off of my couch right now or you’ll regret it.”

He laughed, but stood and headed back into the kitchen. Opening a water bottle he pulled from the fridge, he downed it in nearly one gulp.

“Good Lord, you didn’t have those the last time I saw you.”

He choked on the water and coughed. “What?”

Miryam smirked, gesturing to his muscles. “You leave and you’re a boy, you come back a man.”

He glanced down at his body, still bare, though his shirt tumbled in the dryer. Running a hand over his abdomen, he mumbled, “I have a very...active lifestyle.”

“Right,” she laughed. “Not to impress all the models you work with every day.”

“Mom, it’s not.” She just looked at him. “Okay, not completely.”

The back door burst open, not a creak to be heard and Novan rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Meme!”

Azriel stilled as Novan ran into Miryam’s arms. She caught him, easily, and lifted him into the air as Novan caught sight of Azriel. “Hi, Azriel!”

Azriel relaxed, the shock factor he still got from seeing his son, especially when he wasn’t expecting it, beginning to wear off. “Hey, bud. How ya doing?”

“Good, mommy let me bring my dinosaur,” he said, as if that was the deciding factor of whether or not he was in a good mood. For emphasis, he held up a little plastic t-rex.

Azriel chuckled, leaning back against the cabinets, arms crossed over his inked chest. “Very nice.”

Then the thought hit him, and he was unsure of why it hadn’t hit him before, but if Novan was here, Elain wouldn’t be far behind. Azriel just prayed that Lucien hadn’t come for a visit, too.

As if on cue, footsteps sounded up the back porch and Elain opened the door, then froze, brows furrowed. For a few seconds, Elain slowly opened and shut the door before saying, “Miryam, it seems that a miracle has occurred, because this is the quietest this door has ever been.”

She would know, too, because they would have a hell of a time quietly sneaking her into that back door in the middle of the night all throughout high school.

“Miracle, WD-40, it goes by many names,” she laughed as she headed into the living room. “To what do I owe this nice surprise?”

Azriel hesitated in the kitchen, realizing that Elain somehow hadn’t noticed his truck out back. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he also didn’t want her to leave on his account.

She sighed. “I’m so sorry to do this, but could you watch Novan for a little bit today? I have something really important I need to take care of today.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” She smiled, hugging Novan a little tighter as he giggled. “Az was just about to fix the lawnmower for me, so-.”

“Azriel is here?” She asked, cutting her off.

Azriel could hear Miryam’s hesitation, which was only worsened when Azriel tried to creep out of the kitchen and stepped on a creaky floorboard, just before he could round the corner into the hall, which could be seen through the opening of the dining room, where Elain stood, just inside of the backdoor.

Her eyes shot to him and he froze, fully aware that his cheeks were turning red as he got caught trying to sneak out. “Sorry, I just, I was only...hi.”

Miryam pressed her lips tightly together to keep herself from laughing at her son’s awkward nature, no doubt. Elain didn’t say a word, only stared at Azriel, her eyes trailing down to his chest before quickly, quietly looking away.

“Why don’t you help me water the flowers out front a minute?” Miryam asked Novan, in which he responded with a loud, excited yes as she carried him out of the room.

A few seconds of silence passed before Elain blurted, “He loves using the watering hose.”

“Gotcha.” Azriel nodded. He wasn’t sure why he was nodding, but he also wasn’t sure what to say.

Sorry I snuck out the other day. Heard you and your shitty boyfriend having a fight about me. Wanna get back together?

Right.

Elain cleared her throat. “I was actually going to come by your hotel after I dropped him off here.”

He made no effort to hide the surprise on his face. “You were? Why?”

She was chewing on that lip again and even from across the room, he wanted to work it from in between her teeth and ask what was on her mind.

She opened her mouth to speak but paused, clearing her throat. When she finally looked at him and spoke, he wasn’t sure if her question had him excited or terrified.

“Do you want to go get a cup of coffee with me?”

Thirsty minutes and the quickest shower of Azriel’s life later, they were parked in front of the cafe Elain had worked at during high school.

Az promised Miryam he’d work on the lawnmower the next day, but she said that Novan was going to help her pick a new one out from the home improvement store that afternoon.

They sat down at a table after ordering their drinks, Azriel on one side of the booth, Elain sitting across from him on the other. Azriel searched his mind, desperately, for something, anything to say, but he came up short. He hated doing the small talk thing, especially with Elain, when they had so much history together.

He used to know every little thing about her, but that was four years ago, and things changed, people changed.

He sure as hell had.

A few minutes of silence passed before their drinks were set down in front of them. Azriel, a simple mug of steaming black coffee, which he drowned in sugar, and Elain, a fancy cappuccino of some sort that looked foreign to him sitting in front of her.

She used to hate cappuccinos.

He wasn’t the talker, she was. It was one of the main reasons they’d been so perfect for each other. But it seemed that, although she called this meeting, she wouldn’t be the one starting it. So he’d start it in the most to the point way he knew how to.

“So I assume you wanted to talk to me about something?” He asked.

She was lost in thought, staring at nothing out of the window. His voice brought her back to the moment and she blinked. “Right.” Elain took a sip of her drink and said, “I thought it might be a good idea to give each other the chance to ask anything the other might want to.”

He leaned back, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Okay,” he said, somewhat hesitant. He had a few questions for her, but none as tense as the ones she’d likely have for him.

When neither of them started, Azriel continued, “Am I going first? Or…”

She laughed, quietly, although the light never reached her eyes. “If you have a question, ask away.”

Azriel let out a long, slow breath before picking up his mug and taking a sip. It took him a few seconds to decide what he wanted to ask first, then he decided on one he already knew the answer to. “How long have you and Lucien been together?”

Elain nodded, slowly, completely unsurprised by the question. “About three months, give or take.”

“And he doesn’t live with you,” he continued, quietly, needing it to be confirmed for his own selfish sake.

“No,” she said, staring at her mug. “He doesn’t.”

He nodded, processing the information. He waited for her to ask hers.

She set her cup down and asked, “Do you have a girlfriend back home in New York?”

He shook his head. “No. Nothing in New York but an empty apartment and a gallery full of prints.” She nodded once and gestured for him to go ahead.

“How did-.” He stopped and changed how he wanted to word the question. “When did you find out you were pregnant?”

This is where things were going to get hard.

“Three and a half months after you left,” she said, staring at her cappuccino as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “I went to my annual check-up with my gyno and they came in talking about vitals and progression and asking when I wanted to schedule my ultrasound.” She blinked and Az could see the tears lining her lashes. “It was the first thing I’d felt since I found your note that morning in the church.”

He hated himself for asking the question, even though he so desperately wanted to know the answer. The answer crushed him, though, but he deserved as much.

“And, uh,” he continued, clearing his throat to keep his voice from breaking, “were you well taken care of? I mean, through your pregnancy?”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and blinking rapidly to help keep the tears at bay. “Yeah, my sisters were great, and so were Rhys and Cass, and your parents, of course.”

Everyone in his life but him.

His next question could hardly be heard above the distant conversation and whirring of machines. “Who was in the hospital with you when he was born?”

He knew he was asking a lot of questions, knew he should let her ask one, but he had to fucking know.

“Your mom,” she breathed, “and my sisters.”

Four fucking years. Everyone had known for four fucking years that he was a father, everyone he’d grown up with, his own damn family, and no one had ever said a word.

“I didn’t invite you here to fight, Az,” she whispered. “They kept it from you because I asked them to. It…” She blinked, but she wasn’t able to stop the first tear that finally fell. “It’s not like it was hard. You never called. You didn’t come back.”

“He’s my son, Elain.” He had no right to be mad and he knew it, but still. It hurt him.

“He’s my son,” she said, quietly, but not weakly. “He just met you, and I won’t feel bad about it, Az, because you left. You left, and if you stayed, you would’ve been there for all of it, since the day he was born, but you didn’t. How the hell was I supposed to know that you’d want anything to do with him if you didn’t want anything to do with me?”

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. She was absolutely right and that’s why it hurt him so badly. He just sat there, watching as tear after tear streamed down her face. There was nothing he could say to resolve what he’d destroyed in the past, he could only try to salvage his future.

“I’m sorry, Elain,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, so fucking sorry for leaving you. I fucked up. But I’m here now.” He swallowed hard. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

She sighed, letting her head fall into her hands. “How can I believe you, Azriel? You promised to love me for the rest of my life, yet I’ve been on my own for the past four years.”

He couldn’t have stopped the words if he tried. “I haven’t broken my promise.”

The silence settled between them and he regretted the words, even if he had already told her he still loved her.

She finally looked up at him, those brown eyes showing him how broken she truly was. “How can I trust that you won’t leave him, when you left me?”

Azriel felt a surge of anger that quickly faded, only to be replaced with sadness, longing, pain. She had a right to ask that question, even if it hurt like hell. Yet, he said the first words that came to his mind. “Do you really think I’m so horrible? I made a mistake, El, yeah, I’ve owned up to that, but I would never….I’m not like my parents were, okay? I’m not going to be some shit, heartless asshole who neglects their fucking kid.”

From the look that crossed her eyes, Azriel knew that she knew he wasn’t talking about Miryam and Drakon. Azriel had rarely acknowledged his birth parents through the years, but he meant every word: he wouldn’t be like them.

His mother, she hadn’t been the problem. She was sweet and kind, but life wasn’t kind to her and she’d died before Azriel had even turned five years old.

But his father and step-mother. They were evil for the fun of it. Last he’d heard, his father was in a penitentiary along the coast and his stepmother was in a psychiatric hospital.

Elain’s face softened. “I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt him, but...he’s been asking where his daddy is since he learned that all normal families have a mommy and a daddy.”

Normal families.

The words cut him, but he said, “And what have you told him?”

She simply said. “It’s not your question.”

The want to argue was overwhelming, but he pushed it down. “Fair enough.”

She nodded, and took another sip from her cup. After the long sip was finished, she finally got the nerve to ask, “Have you been with anyone else? Since me?”

Azriel’s mug stopped halfway to his lips. He wanted so desperately to lie, but knew he shouldn’t. With a sigh, he set his mug back down before he could take a drink. “One. About two years ago, and I was horribly drunk, and it was really awkward, and I beat myself up about it for...well, still.” He laughed, quietly, but there was no humor in it, it came more from his complete discomfort. Azriel wasn’t the kind to sleep around, nor was he the kind for one night stands. When Elain said nothing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Nothing serious, though,” he continued. “I haven’t dated, not really. Went on one about six months ago, but I ate bad shrimp and puked, so...that ended poorly, too.” Elain, despite herself, chuckled, and this time, it nearly reached her eyes. “I haven’t wanted to be with anyone else, Elain.”

She nodded and saw that his cup was nearly empty. “Are you ready?”

He looked at her cup still mostly full. “Yeah.”

They stepped out into the warm spring day and as they walked, Azriel slid his hands into his pockets. “So what are his favorite things to do?”

Elain pursed her lips. “Right now, it’s the LEGO kits. He’ll build one and tear it down in one day.”

He whistled. “Smart kid.”

She nodded. “He’s already begging to go to school.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “He must have gotten that from you.”

This earned him a small smile. “Yes, he did. That and my outstanding organization skills. It’s very impressive for a four-year-old.”

Azriel grinned, hands still in his pockets as he glanced sideways at her. “I’m sure. I did notice when I was in his room the other day that his cars are color-coordinated.”

Elain laughed. “Yes, always.”

Azriel's grin widened as he nodded. “Alright, your turn.” He figured nothing could be worse than his shrimp-date confession.

She took a moment to think before asking, “Do you like New York? What’s it like?”

He blew out a breath. “It's...different, that's for sure.” They walked across the street towards the new park in the town square. “It’s never closed. You can get whatever you want whenever you want it.”

She looked around. “Much different from here, hmm?”

He glanced at her, but kept walking. “You’d like it, you know?”

She shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t. It’s too busy.”

He raised his brows. “You don’t like the busy nightlife anymore?”

She shook her head, slowly. “I stay home a lot, but I don’t mind it. I like the quiet and, believe it or not, I’ve grown quite fond of our little town.”

There were a ton of things that Azriel could have said in response, he went with repeating, “Quite fond? That would be a phrase that’s in your vocabulary.”

“It’s in Novan’s, too.”

Azriel laughed a breathy laugh. “I’m not surprised.”

There were still a thousand things he wanted to ask her, but he fell into a silence as she smiled, a full-fledged, full-teeth smile, and Azriel knew it was because they were talking about Novan, and perhaps that made the sight even more beautiful. He was taken back, his breath taken away. He stared, and he didn’t care that he was staring, didn’t look away. She was so incredibly beautiful that he had no idea how there had been a time when she had loved him, too.

He didn’t realize his feet were slowing until Elain looked over at him, her smile fading as she asked, “What? Is there something on my face? In my teeth?” Her hand was quickly flying over her mouth.

“No, I just-.” He hesitated, wondering if he should be honest or lie his ass off. “You look beautiful today.”

That smile returned, not quite as bright, but her eyes softened. She blushed, pink staining her cheeks. For the first time, Azriel felt like he was seeing his Elain again. “Thank you,” she breathed.

He reached out, brushing the loose hairs behind her ear, his hand lingering by her face. Without realizing it, she leaned into his touch.

A little cry from the playground reached them, and regardless of the fact that their son was safely with his Meme, they jumped, looking toward the cry.

Elain noticed the close proximity and cleared her throat. “Do you have another question for me?”

Azriel walked over to a bench underneath a tree and sat, bracing his elbows on his knees. She sat next to him, closer than she’d originally planned, but there was a look on Azriel’s face that worried her.

He didn’t look at her, just looked at his hands hanging between his legs. “Have you slept with anyone else? Lucien?”

Elain took a deep breath. She was also staring at his hands, he noticed, and he had the sudden urge to hide them, but then he reminded himself that it was Elain, and she was not scared away by his scars.

“No,” she said, at last. “We’ve done….no, I haven’t slept with anyone.”

Azriel reached up to scratch his nose, although there was no itch, hardly able to believe that she had gone four years without having sex, even though his list of flings since Elain remained short, too.

He looked up at her, then, just now realizing how close she sat to him. He could easily take her hand, could easily grab her face and bring it toward his lips, and the urge to do so made him ache, but he didn’t. She was watching him, too, though, thoughtfully.

“Does that surprise you?” she asked, quietly.

He looked off towards the Sidra. “No. Yes.” His voice was as quiet as hers was. “I don’t know.” She nodded, understanding. He glanced at her, wanting to see her when she answered. “You’ve...only been with me?”

She swallowed hard. “It’s only been you.”

He stood and held out his hand. She looked at it, a look of confusion on her face. “What?”

He smiled. “Come on. I’ve got something for you.”

She raised an eyebrow, but she took his hand to stand. They walked side by side to his truck, plenty of space between them, but not quite as far as they had been before.

There was a kind of calm that Azriel hadn’t felt in years. Being with Elain, it was just easy. The silence wasn’t tense, it wasn’t full of unanswered questions, though many still hung between them, and as they neared his truck, she asked, “Are you staying, Az? For real?”

He stopped, and faced her, making sure his eyes had connected with hers as he said, “Yes. I’m staying, I promise.”

“I want to believe you,” she breathed. “I really want to believe you, Az.”

“Then believe me, please,” he begged, his voice a quiet plea. Those tears In her eyes were returning, and he was shaking his head. “Elain, believe me. I made a mistake once, and I won’t make the same mistake twice, okay?”

She nodded, but refused to meet his gaze. He didn’t blame her. If he were her, he wouldn’t believe her, either.

“I got something,” he said, unlocking the driver’s side door. “For Novan. If that’s okay.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh. Wow, okay. Of course.”

Azriel reached behind the seat and grabbed the camera he’d bought earlier in the week. “Here. This is an old model, it’s not expensive, so he can be a little rough with it.” She took the box in her hands and stared at it. “I know he’s too young now, but photography is something I’d like to share with him one day.”

Elain ran a delicate hand over the box. She was silent.

He asked, “Elain?”

“Azriel, this is…” Her voice broke and when she looked up, she was crying again.

He breathed, “El…”

“Why did you have to ruin what we had?” She whispered. “We could have been so happy. We were so happy. Why did you have to run?”

He couldn’t have stopped the words if he tried. “Baby, please, let’s just-.”

“Don’t you dare call me ‘baby’.” He could hear the pain in her voice, and she physically took a step back.

His eyes closed and he sighed. “I’m sorry, Elain, I didn’t mean to.”

Her eyes were hard as she said, “I have a boyfriend, Az.”

“I know you do, it just slipped out,” he said.

She bit out, “Then stop acting like it’s you.”

All the words on Azriel’s tongue faded away and he was left staring at her, his lips parted, his breaths uneven.

He could tell her that wasn’t his intention, but it would do no good. He had been vocal about his feelings for her, but she never returned them. It was clear she had moved on, and as much as Azriel didn’t want to admit it, the pain in her eyes, the venom in her voice, told him enough: he had ruined whatever he and Elain could have had four years ago.

And that was all on him.

So Azriel turned his back to Elain and continued to walk toward his truck. “I’ll drive you back to your car.”

He meant for his words to be steady, strong, as if her statement hadn’t completely destroyed him, but he failed. His words were uneven, low, broken.

“I’ll walk.”

Before Azriel could even turn around, she was already walking away. “Elain, please!”

He caught up to her and reached out, catching her wrist. She pulled her hand from his grip and glared up at him. “Don’t touch me. I’ll knee you in the balls, I already got what I needed from them.”

He took a step back. “Are you kidding me, El?”

The venom faded from her voice, the ice from her veins. “Az,” she breathed.

“Just get in the truck.”

“I’m sor-.”

“Just get in the fucking truck,” he snapped, quietly, taking a step backward toward the old truck, his jaw locking. He unlocked the door and threw it open, hauling himself inside and starting the engine, not bothering to watch if she was coming or not.

Anger and frustration and pain and embarrassment boiled beneath the surface, but all that showed of it was his white knuckles as they gripped the wheel.

A few seconds later, the passenger side door opened and Elain helped herself in, silently.

He didn’t bother to tell her about the other gift in the box she clutched in her lap as they silently drove back to Miryam’s. The gift he’d gotten for her.

Because he wasn’t her boyfriend and he needed to stop acting like he was.

[riverdaleroundup]

Riverdale Roundup 2x20: “ Shadow of a Doubt”

Archies face is just suddenly perfectly healed despite the fact that a bunch of rich kids beat the shit out of him like 25 minutes ago.  He’s going door to door campaigning for his dad but as soon as people realize that he isn’t selling girl guide cookies they aren’t interested.

Betty thinks that she might be having breakfast with the black hood himself. She get’s all metaphorical but really Hal is just trying to enjoy his eggs in peace.

Okay so the reason you can’t see Archies bruises is because Veronica has been caking more make up on his face than a counter girl at Sephora trying to earn enough commission to buy a pack of cigarettes and cover the entry fee at sapphire.

The mob families are all sending their cutest sons to impress Veronica in the hopes that they can form a super alliance or something. Everybody saw the avengers and think that they need to assemble teams of best and brightest.

Betty goes to Cheryl because her daddy was a murderer so like bonding. Cheryl is doubtful that Hal could be the black hood because he used to crash at her house and she knows exactly how lame he is. Does someone who owns that many sweaters really kill in cold blood.

The Dark Circle is reforming. I thought it was the red circle? My baby boy Moose says that Midge was cheating on him with a serpent. Reggie is PISSED. He immediately assumes that she was cheating with Sweet Pea because he is clearly the cutest member of the gang. They all start to rumble in the classroom. They should just head on back to the streets and fight on the pavement again. Why was it never addressed that Dilton Dolye stabbed himself during the rumble at midnight? Like I don’t know about you, but that seems like kind of a big things to gloss over. Get that boy some help.

Another awkward breakfast at the Cooper house. Betty gets Alice her job back and nabs herself an internship. Gatta keep a close eye on poppa coopes.

Fangs goes to Jughead because he’s apparently he’s the head bitch in charge of the teenage serpents and is willing to dole out some sage advice whenever it’s needed. Fangs was fooling around with Midge. Again, no one is shocked.

Veronica meets all these sons of industry and decides to hop in bed with Elio, the semi cute one whos in the gambling business.

Jughead wants to get rid of the footage showing Fangs in Midges dressing room. That really doesn't seem that incriminating honestly. The new sheriff is hot but like not sheriff silver fox hot.

Archie looks like he wants to ™ die watching Veronica and his guys business meeting and it’s very me absolutely any time that my families dinner conversations turns to electrical talk or any bullshit like that.

Betty and Cheryl are hanging out, having some family time, trying to figure out of Hal is BH or not. Thankfully Hal keeps a very detailed diary. He was “ working late” or whatever, any time someone died. So either he’s having an affair or he’s the killer. Or you know, he actually just likes to document his work schedule. It’s not like Bettys hunches are always right. I mean she thought big daddy Keller was the black hood for a while there and it turns out he was just having special meeting with Josie's mom.

Fred gets a note that says that he’s going to die next but honestly he doesn’t give two shits. He’s no pussy. He wants the debate to happen. The show must go on.

Betty and Cheryl skip down to the morgue to see if Chic is dead or not. It's still unconfirmed. Betty is feeling v guilty that she shipped Chic off to his death but I mean what’s a girl to do?

Betty comes clean to her parents that BH is number 3 on her speed dial and that he sent Chic to his death. Betty starts talking about her darkness and honestly this is the time to call a therapist or something. Oh Hal has the darkness? Okay so family counseling could be good. Did they make Hals eyes look extra green on purpose?

Honestly the video of fangs doesn’t seem like that big a deal. He defs should have told the police about Midge. I mean the police weren’t going to go around spreading the gossip so like what’s the tea? Did he really carve the bitch up? They made it this whole big deal that he dropped the knife but I mean was that just for drama.

Reggie and the rest of the football team roll up to the serpents hang out and are looking to cause some trouble? Do they realize that there are more sperents than just the 5 scrawny kids that go to their school? There are full grown men in there. They won’t stand for any of this bullshit.

Jughead called Archie to bitch him out about his gang members coming for Juggies gang members.  

Josie's mom is defending Fangs and i’m like why? Is she doing charity work or like is she bffs with the Jones now?

So we find out that Hiram is paying the black circle and that he told Reggie that it could be his baby now. Archie is super pissed and hurt that his daddy would do this.

Betty finds out that Hal is still keeping a man cave and Cheryl is DESPERATE to go break in. She lives for the drama but only when it isn’t about her. They go to the hotel and find out that Hal is a slob. Who leaves a carton of milk out there like that? So they find the Nancy Drew book and Betty is SHOOKETH. I mean maybe Hal was just bored and wanted to learn a new language? He heard that code is popular now but because he’s a thousand years old and has probably never turned on a computer, he doesn’t know what that really is and just assumed that his book would teach him all the good tips and trips.

So suprise suprise, the black hood shows up the the debate and just open fires on the crowd. Betty is desperately looking around for her dad instead of running for her life and omg look Hal isn’t the one with the gun? Betty seems more stressed by that than the fact that bullets are flying.

Hiram thinks that the best way to catch a killer is to send a 15 year old boy ( fight me about it) on a ride along with the sheriff. Archie just wants to go home and hang out with his dad. He’s a simple boy of simple pleasures.

Hermione is quite literally shook for the whole black hood mess and Hiram is like pull it together bitch we got jobs to do. Veronica is ™ pissed about her daddy not treating her like a big girl. Hiram behaves rationally for once and put all of Veronicas blood money in a trust.

Betty is honestly confused at the notion that her dad would get her a gift. Like just say thank you girl. She’s still not convinced that Hal is gucci fam. So what it the truth?

Freaking joaquin is back. He’s going to help Fangs disappear because the whole town thinks that he killed Midge. They can go be a couples of dudes being bros somewhere safe.

Veronica decides she’s going to back Fred's bid for mayor and then takes off her coat to reveal some weird bodysuit and then she and Archie get busy.

So the whole town of riverdale showed up to protest a teenager getting out of Jail and honestly everything is real fucked up.

No what’s fucked up is that Betty has that gun. Is she going to shoot her dad.

The Serpent's do this strange like football hudle and chants. Very Alpha Phi Beta. They form a barrier around him and push through the crowd.

Oh shit is Reggie really doing to shoot fangs? That seems intense.

Archie and Reggie struggle over the gun and then oops Fangs gets shot. That’s bad news bears. Wow now people are just having a fist fight over his unconscious body. Why doesn't someone like call an ambulance or something?

The doorbell rings at Cheryl's house and if it’s some random guy her for penelope she’s going to be super pissed. I thought she was making penelope move out. OH SHIT IT’S THE BLACK HOOD! LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!

I’m tired and i’m not reading this over so if there’s a bunch of shit wrong with it that’s not my problem. I mean all of my posts are fucked up so like what’s new?

[moviesmakethegirl]

BEAUTIFUL GIRLS

Beautiful Girls, directed by Ted Demme and released in 1996, is an American classic romantic comedy that is timeless. It's relateable, funny, sad, kinda creepy, and problematic at times because it was written in the 90's and for some reason writers loved to write words that are totally demeaning and derogatory to LGBTQ+ people and in no way shape or form do I agree with the use of these words in this film. It honestly breaks my heart that they say the F word a couple of times in this movie. I do not use that word, and I do not believe it was necessary to put in the script. Remake this movie in today's time, and there would be none of that shit in it, I know it. I hold this movie in high regard, but I have to point out the major flaws and that is the biggest flaw. So, here I am to talk about this movie that I've watched almost more than any other movie in my life. I'm gonna spoil it for most of you, but hopefully not enough that it deters you from watching it and excusing the bullshit that they got away with cause it was the 90s.

The movie starts with Willie Conway, played by little Timothy Hutton who has the most gorgeous blue eyes I have ever seen on a screen. He's seen playing piano in a smokey bar, grabbing what little tips he makes and buying a bus ticket to who the hell knows. A true testament to the 90s here is smoking in the bar. Something that I would have taken full advantage of if I was in my 20s in the 90s. Now, the whole point of this movie is that friends reunite to go to their 10 year high school reunion. So, Willie goes back to his hometown with a pack of cigarettes and loose one dollar bills while the beginning credits play. During this time, we see a young almost Hulk looking Matt Dillon plowing snow in a fancy as fuck (for the 90s) driveway. He is accompanied by his colleague, Kev who always wears a beanie and is basically always drunk (he's a good character). Now, we see a woman come out with coffee mugs and she thanks them for doing their jobs and tells them she ran out of Styrofoam cups. Matt Dillon aka Birdman aka Birdy aka Tommy (SO MANY NICKNAMES FOR ONE CHARACTER!) tells her he will bring the mugs back. The woman slinks back into her house while Tommy looks at her like a piece of meat (fucking 90s). Now, BLESS KEV'S SOUL cause Kev knows these two are doing the ditty dance and he points out "She's married, Tommy." My voice of reason Kev, forever in my heart. Soon after this, Tommy and Kev meet up at a diner with another plow truck driver named Paul who is played by the amazingly witty Michael Rapaport. Easily the best acted character in the movie, easily the most problematic and sleaziest, but by God if he doesn't move the plot of this story to perfection. Paul is complaining about his girlfriend sleeping with another man because she won't answer his phone call at 5 in the fucking morning. He claims she's sleeping with a butcher which is ironic because his girlfriend, Jan, is a vegetarian. IRONY GUYS, AM I RIGHT? Gotta love some good irony. Anyways, the boys fuck around at the diner until Paul leaves to go start shit with his girlfriend at the crack of dawn cause that's how to get  girl to not be mad at you. We then see Paul using his plow shovel on his truck to push the snow in front of Jan's garage so she can't get out. King of romance here, guys. And that's how they introduce the main male characters. Now we know that Willie, Tommy, and Paul are all connected but how?

The movie goes back to Willie, who gets picked up at the bus station by his high school bff Mo. Now, before I say anymore, Mo is the best male character in this movie and I will defend Mo with all my breath and then some. Mo is life. Mo is love. Now, back to the movie. Mo has two kids who are useless and dumb and only in the movie to show that time has passed in this town. He drives Willie back to his childhood house where Willie spots an unknown teenager living next door. Willie's home life is sad. His father doesn't say much after having lost his wife, I don't know how that's never explained in the movie. He and his father exchange a cute little convo about watching golf and Willie goes upstairs to unpack. His little brother played by the not so famous yet David Arquette is obviously a little on his hinges stops by to say hello. He tells Willie that the old neighbors moved out and some other humans moved in and doesn't know anything about them cause it's life and no one actually knows their neighbors. And now that he's said his hellos to his family, Willie goes out on the town! He meets up with Paul to grab beers and go hang at the boy's pad. Tommy is sitting on the couch with his girlfriend Sharon who is asleep on his lap when Willie and Paul come in screaming and hooting and hollering. Now, HOW Sharon doesn't wake up from this, I'll never know. It honestly takes me out of the movie, cause this movie is pretty true to real life so what the fuck ever, I'm moving on. Anyways, Willie goes into Paul's room that is covered with naked photos of models. Willie is concerned and asks if Paul has any heads in his freezer that he should look for, which is 100% understandable. But, I was the high school girl who had her walls covered in pictures of famous men, so honestly, who I am really to judge?? Actually, I can judge cause Paul is supposed to be like 28, 29 in this film and his wall looks like mine did when I was 17, so again, beware of heads in the freezers. He then goes on to monologue about how beautiful girls are the last salvation of this world, a "promise of a new tomorrow." It's actually a pretty eloquent speech from an ape of a character and really gives you insight to the fact that Paul is just lonely and truly wants love but is plagued by society telling him what he should deserve by being a man (HEAVY SIGH). But before this, which I forgot to mention, there's a scene where Paul goes to propose to Jan while she's working. He just hands her the ring, which is brown, and she obviously says no cause Paul is just a really tall infant and he gets so goddamn salty like he didn't just block her in his driveway with snow that very morning. So it's even more insight into just how sad Paul truly is and how broken he is inside that he needs to cope with "beautiful girls." Paul reminds me of an onion. And you all know where I'm going with that metaphor.

Then we move on to Willie by himself. He finds himself at Mo's, catching up with his family when he mentions that he might become a traveling salesman instead of being a piano player in smoky bars. Mo's wife thinks it's a great idea, Mo, however, is distraught. Rightfully so, cause the best thing Willie has going for him in hotness is that he's a piano player. Mo gets on his case about not being able to sell anything and it's really a good Mo moment. Willie then goes home to comtemplate, like any piano player would, only to be sidetracked by the quicky teenage girl who lives next door. Everyone, listen to me. This is important. There is a 13 year old girl in this movie who is probably the most important part of this movie and she is played by 13 year old Natalie Portman. I KID YOU THE FUCK NOT. Marty, named after the grandfather she never knew, is a wise beyond her years, old soul teenager who puts Willie's life into perspective. She is mad upfront about his family life, blantanly saying "Your mom is dead, isn't she?" the very first time she meets him. She intrigues him with her vast vocabluary. It's really a shameless conversation between an adult and teenager, but it's lingers in the silences which makes most uneasy upon their first watch of this movie. I, however, love this realtionship. I am not about statutory rape, but I am for philosphoical, tragic love stories so this is kind of up my alley in a weird twisted way.

Next up, we get the beautiful girls. Sharon and Tommy are seen post coital which Sharon not too happy. She accuses Tommy of having an affair with his old high school girlfriend, Darian (fucking really? Couldn't pick a better name? Whatever). Now, Darian is the chick who gave Tommy and Kev the coffee mugs in the first scene. I forgot to mention that, excuse me. Tommy then gets on Sharon's case about having an eating disorder cause it was the 90s and people could just say WHATEVER THE FUCK THEY WANTED RIGHT NO CONSEQUENCESSSSKLDFKL;DFKLJGDFJKH. Anyways, Sharon then leaves to go be with her girls cause fuck guys. Her girls are Mo's wife and the hilarious Rosie O'Donnell. They tell her that Tommy is horrible and she should leave (fucking DUH). Sharon then gets all moody and defensive and is like "isn't it my fault?" and NO BITCH NOTHING IS YOUR FAULT! Tommy is a fucking DOUCHE BAG WHO DOESN'T DESERVE YOUUUUUUUU! I scream that literally everytime I see that scene. BUT THANK GOD FOR ROSIE cause the next scene is her talking to Tommy and Willie. She basically just screams at them while she is running errands and telling them that their fantasy girls don't exist. That men rely too much on outer beauty that they are gonna get sick of these models after a couple nights of knowing them. She goes into detail about the nasty things that real women have to deal with like boobs sagging and pubic hair, all while saying hello to old friends in the supermarket. It's humerous to say the least, it's real, and it's just outstanding writing, in my opinion. It's totally undercut by Tommy and Willie not grasping what she has to say, but you know that deep down they truly understand her, they're just being little bitches cause THEY'RE BOYS AND BOYS ARE BITCHES.

So now that we've had the girls talk about the boys, the boys all meet up at a bar. Now here's the fun part, cause the bar owner is an old friend of the crew and he lets the boys do whatever they want. It's a cool place. So when the boys, who are all children in my opinion besides Mo and Kev, see that the owner's cousin is in town, they try to act all cool and shit which fails miserably because the cousin in question is none other than the number one bombshell herself, UMA FUCKING THURMAN! I have a terribly huge obsession with Uma and it all started with her in this movie. She has been bae for a lot of my life. Sorry, I'm just here to rave about how much I love Uma Thurman and she deserves the world. Now, she's the "cool girl" from Chicago who was "born with a boyfriend." She gets the boys shots and asks about them. She finds out Willie plays the piano and asks him to play. He then starts playing "Sweet Caroline" lead by a drunk Kev, bless his heart. Mo, also wasted, really gets into the song and it makes me happy. This is the only time I'm happy to hear a Neil Diamond song, honestly. It's a feel good scene and it has Uma in it, I love it.

So, Sharon, little lovely Sharon, has planned a surprise birthday for the worst boyfriend in history. She goes all out and everyone is involved and while she is trying to surprise Tommy, he AGAIN mentions her eating disorder and makes me want to punch in the face but it's all ok because she surprised him for his birthday and he loves her again and all is well YAY! There's fucking lobster at this party, like a lobster bar and everyone is drinking beer and eating lobster and dancing and having the time of their lives. Honestly, where the fuck was my invite? Why does no one I know have surprise birthday parties with a lobster bar??? We are slacking. Then, horror strikes. A drunk Darian shows up and casts the biggest dark cloud I've ever seen. Like I feel akward just watching it.  She then walks straight up to Tommy and tries to give him a present and kiss him IN FRONT OF EVERYONE INCLUDING SHARON! WOOOOOOOOW DARIANNNNN. So, Sharon leaves and Tommy feels bad. Oh poor Tommy, cheating on a girl who loves you with a girl who's fucking married and now your birthday is ruined woe is fucking you. Tommy tries to make amends by going to Sharon's mom's house and asking for forgiveness which SHE SHUTS THE DOOR ON HIM! YAAAASS SHAROONNNNNNNN!!!!!!!

Back at the party though, Willie and Mo are drunk and have outstayed everyone. They start talking about shit and Willie brings up 13 year old Marty. Mo, obivously grossed out cause DUH, says some great words of wisdom. He even points out that "when you were in the 7th grade, she was a zygote." Points to Mo for keeping it real this entire film. Willie understands, but you know deep down inside he wants to wait for this bitch which like YEAH ME TOO I WOULD WAIT FOR NATALIE PORTMAN but also dude....come on. Willie, in a drunken state, proclaims "I just want something beautiful." To which Mo responds, "We all want something beautiful." AND THAT IS THE MOMENT IN THIS FILM THAT I LIVE FOR. I FUCKING LOVE THAT LINE SAID BY MO JUST YES YES YES! It's so true but it's so subjective and so vague and when I round out this post, I will go deeper into that.

SO YOU GUYS NEXT IS THE ICE SKATING SCENE. WOW OK LEMME CALM DOWN QUICK CAUSE THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT SCENE IN THE MOVIE TO ME CAUSE I'M A TRAGIC ROMANTIC AT HEART. So, Mo takes Willie ice skating with his kids. Willie leaves to go hang out in the ice house where Paul and Kev are in. He then leaves to go have a cigarette only to see Marty ice skating with her friends. He goes over to her, which causes Mo to side eye him the entire time YAS MO. Willie and Marty start talking about Willie's girlfriend back in the city, which causes Marty to say that she "broke up" with her boyfriend. She then says that she wants Willie to be her boyfriend and he hits the breaks realllll hard. He then says one of the most poetic and saddest things I've heard in a film and he looks her in the eyes and says that she's gonna outgrow him like Christopher Robin outgrew Pooh. HE SAYS TO A FUCKING 13 YEAR OLD THAT HE CANNOT BE THE POOH TO HER CHRISTOPHER ROBIN AND THEN FUCKING LEAVES. One, poor Marty cause she's gonna live with that the rest of her life. Two, omfg. Three, I love that Willie understands what it's like to be a teenager and what it's like to grow up and not want what you wanted from the past. Like as easy as it sounds to grasp that, I have found that most people haven't. And he served it to this 13 year old chick who has never met anyone who can match her mental capacity until Willie and she skates away all sad but totally understanding. LIKE JFC THE RESPECT IN THAT SCENE IS WHAT GETS ME. Both acting like true adults, both accepting the truth like two adults even though one is an adult in a 13 year old body and the other is a 13 year old trapped in an adults body.

So Paul asks out Uma's character named Andera (AN-DEER-UH) to make his old gf Jan jealous. OH DOES IT WORK, who wouldn't get jealous if their ex brought Uma with them to a bar? Andera gets up to leave since Paul is being a douche, what's new, but he comes clean and says he is trying to make an ex jealous so she totally plays along. She gets all up on him and grinds her little body against his like she's getting paid to. Jan leaves and Paul, being the ever so smart and classsy dude he always has been, tries to kiss Andera which then results in her slapping him and leaving as well. She walks home by herself on a snowy night only to run into prince charming number 2, Tommy. He asks if she needs and ride and she says no and he asks her what does it take to be with a girl? She replies with something so simple, yet so romantic omfg. She says, "I'm easy. A guy's gotta say 4 words to me. 'Good-night, sweet girl.'" LIKE BITCH, THAT'S NOT MUCH, BUT I FUCKING GET IT. She then leaves Tommy and he's all smitten in his truck cause Uma has that affect on everyone. She then goes to the bar, to find Willie drunk at the piano. She starts to talk to him and he's trying to get her to go home with him and she says no until he asks her to go ice fishing to which she says YES! Cause who wouldn't, right?? Anyways, he takes her to the ice shed and they talk about how Willie is afraid for his longtime gf to meet his family and how he feels the pressure of asking her to marry him. He then asks Andera what could be more perfect than having sex with a stranger in a ice house to which she replies, A RAINY SUNDAY MORNING WITH HER BOYFRIEND, READING THE NEW YORK TIMES, DRINKING MARTINIS, AND LISTENING TO VAN MORRISON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you guys see why I'm so obsessed with her character yet? Willie nods his head, he understands, WE ALL UNDERSTAND! That literally sounds like the most perfect day in the world! I would switch martini's to margaritas and the NYT to Stranger Things but still, come the fuck on. Andera leaves him in the shed, telling him he needs to have a conversation with his girlfriend.

So the girlfriend, played by Annabeth Gish, comes into town the night of the high school reunion. You probably forgot this was about a high school reunion cause I always forget that until the end. Anyways, she gets along famously with his family and they get ready for the reunion. They pregame at Mo's cause why not? Tommy, however, decides to skip the reunion. Darian told her eariler on that her husband was gonna be out of town that night so Tommy could come over but he said NO WAY JOSE! Which, ok cool, but still fuck Tommy. So, he is at the bar by himself when he runs into Darian's husband!! Who isn't out of town and is at the bar with three of his dude friends and they, of course, beat the shit out of Tommy. So of course, the friends back at Mo's get a call saying that Tommy is in the hospital and Mo gets fucking crazy. He jumps into the car with Willie and Paul and they drive to Darian's house and Mo starts beating the shit out of Darian's husband. It's a lot, honestly cause Mo goes full on Hulk but stops when he sees Darian's daughter at the front door, asking if her daddy is alright. Mo settles the fuck down and gets back into the car and they drive to the hospital to see Tommy. There is so much testosterone in that scene, it's almost as if i have to shower after it.

So the next day, Willie and his girlfriend are packing their bags to go home. He has decided to go back to the city and not become a salesman. His girlfriend convinces him that sales men aren't sexy, but piano players are like YAASS GIRL SPEAK THE TRUTH! During their goodbyes, Marty comes out to say her final words to Willie and I always cry cause deep down inside I wish they could be together. Like I wish he was younger or she was older. Shit. Anyways, he tells her that she's gonna do great things with her life and she's like duh I know. It's amazing. They stop at the hospital to say goodbye to Tommy, who has Sharon sleeping on his lap again in a very uncomfortable looking position and again SHE DOESN'T WAKE UP TO THEM TALKING AT FULL VOLUME! Willie says goodbye to his longtime, problematic friend and then almost as if on cue, Sharon wakes up. Willie meets Mo outside in the hallway who brought his kids who then jump on an injured Tommy and I think that's poetic justice. It ends with Willie leaving town, Kev is back on the street plowing it, Paul is unhappy and single cause he's an asshole who needs to grow the fuck up THOUGH I didn't mention this but after the Tommy fight, Paul goes to Jan's house and takes all the snow away from her garage cause he knows he acted a fool to her and that's his way of apologizing which isn't amazing but it's a start and I can respect him for that. Mo ends up good. Tommy and Sharon end up together which kinda grinds my gears but whatever. Everyone seems to be in a good place at the end of the movie and I love it.

So to me, this movie is about the subjective nature of beauty. Yes, beauty is important but it's the inner beauty that matters. The beauty of growing up and going through life's ups and downs. The beauty of friendship and how no matter what shitty things you friends do, there's a bond that exists and you have to help them find a way through the bad shit. The beauty of being in love, in having a family, in being a musician, in being a snow plower, in being confused about what you want. Life is beautiful, and it's real. The whole "everyone wants something beautiful" line speaks to me so much cause Mo is the one who said it, and to Mo, beauty is his family. To me, beauty is the love that surrounds me from my friends and family. Everyone is searching for something they can have and hold, but the truth is that beauty is omnipresent, for lack of a better word. Beauty is subjective. Beauty isn't a beautiful girl, it's life. There's beauty in the lessons you learn from abtaining something you held in high regard and learning that it isn't what it's all jacked up to be. The monologue that Rosie has where she says the boys would get tired of models after a couple months is what this movie is about. It's the whole loving what you got philosphy. I related so much to this movie as a teenager because I held celebrities in very hig regards. I had posters all over my room and doors and even in my hallway. I was so into the idea of a hot celebrity boy being my boyfriend because I didn't know them, I could make them the perfect man in my mind. Only to wake the fuck up and realize that in real life, these men aren't like that. I was living in a fantasy world but here I was putting beautiful people on a pedastal and not really grapsing the true beauty in life. That's what I get out of this movie and that's why it's my favorite romantic comedy of all time. It's my favorite movie of all time, behind Fight Club which I will write about some other day.

Thank you for reading this, if you did. I hope to do many more of these with your support. I hope I made you laugh, I hope I made you think, I hope I gave you a good movie recommendation!

THESE PHOTOS ARE NOT MINE. I FOUND THEM ON GOOGLE. I CLAIM NO OWNERSHIP OF THEM. IF ANYONE KNOWS WHOSE PICTURES THEY ARE, GO AHEAD AND TELL ME AND I WILL CREDIT THEM!

[absentlyabbie]

[@storiesofimaginationation: So... *chinhands*  ...about this Flommy headcanon of yours... *bats eyelashes*]

Hahaha. yes, the flommy romance writer au. nevermind that i have only the loosest grasp on how publishing works.

so i’ve decided it all starts because of Rebecca Merlyn.

when Tommy was little, say 5-8 she’d read him the less racy bits of her romance novels when he interrupted her too-rare reading time to snuggle. and he liked the way everything was so grand and important and it always had a happy ending.

after she died, a few years into being a teenager, he found a box of her old romances malcolm had hidden away somewhere (probably that he meant to trash.) he reread them all, and he loved them.

of course, romances were supposed to be for GIRLS. (and with a father like malcolm in your life, you pick up the vague understanding that for Any Son Of His, “for girls” is bad.) so he hid reading them.

and then, as got a bit older still, he got the itch to WRITE them. (probably because he thought the heroine of one of the books ended up with the wrong guy.)

Well. it started a secret habit. and oh, he was GOOD at it.

(and of course all of this helped magnificently with flirting with girls. helped him understand them better, know what they wanted and liked, more romantic hero than action hero.)

he stumbled into posting a couple of things online, and it went over pretty well. and when more than a couple commenters gushed about how he should publish, well...

he really liked the idea.

but online, he used a name that hid his gender. and when he got in touch with an agent in college, he was told point blank that he could write “dignified literature” romances as a man, or he could write the passionate stuff he liked best under a female penname.

and really, he’d had nervous misgivings about publishing under his own name anyways, for so many reasons. he didn’t want his name to draw more attention than his writing. or to be accused of money buying celebrity and any sales not being about the stories.

and he REALLY didn’t want his father to know.

it was all still a SECRET passion, after all.

(of course, bff Oliver knows, and is disinterested in reading Tommy’s writing, but doesn’t really care except that he knows that Tommy loves it.  Oliver’s just not a fiction guy, and romance just seems like a lot of wordy fluff to him when words are already frustrating when it comes to actual feelings and shit. so Oliver supports Tommy, but mainly in the abstract.)

so fast forward a handful of years and in his late twenties, Tommy Merlyn is a well known and popular romance writer.

or rather, Tammy Arthur is.

so, at the present moment, Tommy’s got shit going on in his life. he’s got a book that’s being difficult and a deadline that’s already been pushed back once and the new one looming, and his father is being a monumental bag of dicks.

because Tommy’s successful career as a writer is a secret, so malcolm believes Tommy is a freeloading, unmoored, useless wastrel and he is trying to manipulate, threaten, and force Tommy into using that mba malcolm paid for to come work at the family company.

(“for the love of god, Tommy, do something with your life. i’m disgusted to imagine the shame your mother would feel if she’d lived to see you wasting the opportunities provided you off the backs of our actual hard work and accomplishments. why not the company? fucking sycophants in nightclubs and screwing around with the queen boy hardly constitute a purpose. It’s not even as if you’d have to earn this on your own merits, questionable as they are.”)

so he’s facing pressure from his agent, pressure from his father, Oliver’s been on a “finding himself” kick after a 20s full of fuckups, so Tommy feels worryingly disconnected from him, and on top of that, his publisher has been making unhappy noises about Tommy’s inability to do book tours or promotion because his pesky secret identity problem.

he’s generally harried and dissatisfied with current affairs and feeling stuck and directionless. writing has always been the safe place AWAY from that shit, and it’s being pulled into the mire, so it’s making hitting this deadline especially hard. he’s frustrated, and it’s affecting his writing. both his output and the quality.

enter Felicity Smoak, copy editor extraordinaire.

Felicity was on track for one hell of a future at MIT until her shit boyfriend used a program she was creating and her laptop to hack a government agency. he went down for the hacking, but it got Felicity’s scholarship yanked and she was forced to drop out.

in a middlingly fortunate twist, her phenomenal typing speed and an acquaintance in the industry opened the door to the unexpected world of book publishing. after all, with half of two degrees and no money and no way to get all the way back to vegas, she needed a job desperately, ANY job.

it was just a stop gap, she told herself. just until she got things in order to go back to school.

years later and Felicity is still a copyeditor, because she’s actually really good at it (it’s pattern analysis and debugging, she’d insist) and it’s job security.

so Felicity transfers from one coast to the next when a copyediting position opens up at the new branch in starling city.

it’s just that it would be nice to be closer to home, make her mother sigh and moan less about plane fare, really.

(she’s not giving up on school, she swears. this doesn’t mean she’s never going back. it’s just for now.)

she arrives at the starling branch to find the copyediting department in a bit of chaos after they’d been too understaffed for too long, and so she’s pretty much thrown right in. her new supervisor desperately needs someone to help with the romance division.

Felicity, who’s mostly worked in nonfiction (and a little mainstream lit and a little sci fi) isn’t more than a little familiar with all of this.

but hey, it’s still just pattern recognition, right? just debugging the code.

so she really has no idea who Tammy Arthur is when the manuscript hits her desk, other than the general knowledge that this is a tentpole name in the publisher’s romance stable.

thing is, she’s handed the manuscript two days before the deadline--and Arthur was told hardline there wouldn’t be a second delay. “she” could make deadline or forfeit the advance and pay the fines.

so Felicity dives in.

and really, it’s not bad. at all.

she finds herself immersing more in the story than she’s used to. normally it’s just a surface, almost trancelike skim.

pattern recognition.

Debugging.

[@storiesofimagination:  bet she loves his sense of humor]

(oh she does. and some of the character moments just... really touch her.)

(and wow.)

(that is some... well executed sex.)

over the first day, there are a handful of perfunctory back and forth emails between her and Tammy Arthur.

completely businesslike, all about the book. (a couple of sarcastic lines of reply do make her snort and smile sympathetically though.)

but then it’s late at night and she’s getting to the end of the manuscript and, well...

how the hell did Arthur miss this?

it’s a big problem. completely fucks the continuity, and now this character doesn’t make sense anymore.

and it’s not Felicity’s purview.

she’s a copyeditor.

she’s on grammar and syntax, format, and punctuation mainly.

content is for the editor.

so she tries to take it to the editor.

only problem--she and the editor assigned to Tammy Arthur were the only ones still in the office at this hour, because of the deadline. (Felicity leapt at the chance for overtime; she’s got new-to-the-city deposits to make up for in her budget after all.)

and when she goes to the editor’s office, she finds it dark, locked, and with a post it slapped haphazardly on the door.

there was an emergency.

“taking my kid to the hospital” emergency.

well fuck.

the only number Felicity knows to call here is for this editor, so she tries to get hold of them, but at first it goes to voicemail.

starting to really worry (she can’t let this manuscript get fucked up less than 24 hours before the deadline, not her FIRST manuscript here), she frantically tries to email Tammy Arthur directly.

she waits.

and waits.

seven emails and half an hour later, there’s still no response.

and then, thank god! her phone rings. it’s the editor.

except the poor person is a desperate, slightly weepy mess on the other end, because the problem with the child might be serious and honestly, they would handle this any other time but they just CAN’T leave the hospital, they can’t.

does Felicity think she could take care of this herself?

Tammy Arthur is local, as it happens.

and though the editor sounds weirdly reluctant (but more desperate than reluctant) they give Felicity Arthur’s address.

just drive the manuscript over, she’s told.

explain the problem.

really, the editor insists, Felicity might not even see Tammy.

bit of a recluse, they insist.

there should be a mail slot in the door at worst case scenario.

just make some pertinent notes.

so Felicity frantically scribbles down the best notes pointing out the problems (and offers a couple of suggestions, just in case, really Tammy probably shouldn’t bother the editor right now, this emergency sounds serious), gets in her car, and lets her gps guide her through the city.

her phone guides her well past Felicity’s own brand new neighborhood into practically another world, finally leaving her in the parking garage of a high rise condo/luxury apartment building.

she has to argue her way past the doorman/security guard (diggle maybe??) for access to so much as the elevator, has to produce her business card with the publishing house logo and namedrop the editor (and even mention the emergency room and child), and really almost cry on the poor man before she’s allowed up.

so she finally gets up to the proper floor, and she’s tired, harried, deeply uncomfortable with this entirely unfamiliar territory in all sense of the phrase, and Focusedly Intent on her purpose.

she locates the correct door.

she knocks.

waits.

knocks again.

finally, worried she’ll have to drop the manuscript through the mail slot, she tries calling through the door, “Ms. Arthur, I’m from the publisher! There’s an issue and I’ve been trying to reach you, Ms. Arthur, if you could just please--”

the door jerks open.

standing on the other side, looking bewildered and a little pissed (and very much shirtless and damp from a clearly recent shower) is a ridiculously pretty man and oh dear god how could this night have gone so wrong, she wonders, when he demands "Who the hell are you?"

oh no.

she assumes she’s gotten the wrong apartment entirely.

“Oh my god,” she says, aghast, “I am in the wrong place and you have a penis.”

he looks utterly taken aback. “Excuse me?”

cue mortification. “Oh my god! I meant--I mean--I was looking for a woman, which you are clearly not--although maybe that’s cissexist?--but I am probably-definitely in the wrong place and I am so sorry I disturbed you and made you put clothes on--I mean to answer the door! Oh my god I need to leave.”

(and see, you can understand Tommy’s confusion and hostility--NO ONE except his agent and his editor know Tammy Arthur is Tommy Merlyn, and it’s an unofficial clause of his contract that it remain that way.)

so Felicity whirls on her heel to make for the elevator--and Tommy finally notices the multicolor post-it flagged manuscript clutched against her chest.

oh god, he realizes. there’s something wrong with the manuscript, and the deadline is tomorrow at 6pm.

“Wait!” he blurts, lurching into the hall, half naked, mildly panicked. “I do have a penis!”

Felicity whirls with wide eyes and enormous suspicion, instantly afraid for her life.

Tommy turns beat red and cringes. “Holy shit, it’s contagious. I meant it’s me, you’re looking for me. Not a woman.” He presses a hand to his chest and raises his brows earnestly. “I’m Tammy Arthur.”

so Tommy declares his identity and instantly swivels shiftily to confirm the hall is empty except for them.

wincing, he takes a step back towards his open door. “Would you mind doing this inside?”

Felicity squints. “Are you for real? You’re not some creep?”

Tommy blinks, taken aback, and deadpan says, “I suppose my creepiness is entirely up to you to determine but I am assuredly for real. You’re holding my manuscript.”

She hesitates.

“Look, obviously nobody knows Tammy Arthur is a guy, and I kind of want to keep it that way so can you please come inside?”

muttering under her breath about how she’s going to get serial killed in a strange city and donna will tell her grave she told her so and then question her in the afterlife about how hot her murderer was, Felicity follows him into the apartment.

once he closes the door behind her (not locking it with a pointed flourish), Tommy folds his arms across his chest (and glances down, suddenly reminded this entire encounter has been carried out in partial nudity) and asks, "What happened to [editor]?"

Felicity explains about the kid in the emergency room, and Tommy goes into concern mode, which Felicity is surprised by, and it settles her a little that this guy is so clearly familiar with the editor and even knows the kid’s name and mutters about texting editor later and sending flowers.

running a hand over his hair (and here Felicity becomes acutely and uncomfortably aware that he is really super good looking, like, should be on the covers of his own books good looking, and also still shirtless in jeans that aren’t even buttoned, which honestly just further enforces the previous book cover notion) Tommy sighs and asks, “So what’s the emergency?”

Felicity stares blankly, then scrunches her face up like he’s being an idiot. “I just told you. Sick child. Emergency room. Are you okay?”

Tommy blinks--and bursts out laughing.

“No, no, I meant,” still laughing, “I meant the manuscript. What’s wrong with it? Why are you here?”

“Oh.” Felicity flushes, and laughs at herself. “Sorry. I’m a little--” vague hand gesture.

Tommy chuckles. “Understandably.” Then, with a twinkling smile, “Would it help if I put a shirt on?"

She flushes a little more--but answers point blank and deadpan faced. “Yes. That,” she makes an open palm gesture at his chest, “is distracting and you have a serious problem.”

Tommy’s smile dies at that, worry about the book and the deadline (and the crowding anxiety about Everything Else pressing up behind it) draining his humor.

He turns on his heel, disappears briefly down a hallway, and returns as he’s pulling a ridiculously soft looking hooded henley over his head (and yes, Felicity definitely does follow the disappearing glimpse of that trail of dark hair leading into his waistband before the shirt covers it because how is he real?)

“Okay.” He folds his arms again and frowns seriously, brow furrowed. “What’s the problem?”

Launching instantly into Work Focus, Felicity strides up close and flips open the manuscript to the main problem, rattling off the gaping plot/continuity hole she discovered.

Tommy is instantly absorbed in the work and the network of plotlines, character arcs, backstories and continuity threads cats’-cradling in his head, frowning down and leaning close as Felicity flips back and forth through the pages, pointing out where the main problem ties backward and forward into the rest of the manuscript.

and when Felicity finishes, Tommy staggers backward, hands diving into his hair, and groans.

"Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh my god I can’t believe this. I just--I forgot. I spotted this problem weeks ago and I just... I spent so much damn time thinking about fixing it that I just..." he stares blankly, aghast. "I just thought I did? And went ahead? Oh my god, the deadline is tomorrow."

Felicity winces--she’s done that with code before.

Tommy buries his face in his hands and lurches around to put his back to her, groaning in frustration into his palms.

“But--you can fix it.”

Tommy turns towards her and drags his hands slowly down his face til he can see her. “I have been trying to fix it for over a month. How the hell am I going to fix a fuckup this massive in one night?”

He slumps heavily against the wall, sighing like his soul is leaving his body. “I’m not going to make it. This book is never going to print and they’re not going to renew my contract. I’ll never be published again. I’ll--I’ll have nothing.” He stares hollowly at the other wall. “Fuck. He was right.”

Perplexed by that last statement (and a little unimpressed by the melodrama in general) Felicity shakes the manuscript to draw his attention. “You’ve just been looking at it too long as this giant, impossible hole. You can still fix it. You just have to untangle the lines, follow the problem back to the root.”

so Tommy gets a little grumpy about how it’s not that simple, and Felicity, frustrated with this whole affair, turned around seven ways and out of her depth (she’s a copyeditor! handholding and writer wrangling are not in her job description!) tilts her head to one side, lips pressed together and says, “Fine. It’s up to you whether or not to give up, but here.” She shoves the manuscript against his chest. “you might as well at least try.”

and then she turns to leave, waylaid momentarily because she doesn’t remember setting her purse down but it is not in her hand, and her car keys are in it.

Tommy means to remind her that she can’t tell anyone Tammy Arthur is a man when he is distracted by the colorful post-its poking out of his pages--and the scribbled words on one catches his eye.

frowning, he flips quickly through several of the post-its.

notes, suggestions.

reminders about things on other pages, with the page numbers included.

this one has a startlingly incisive character insight.

he blinks, startled. “Who wrote these?”

Hand on the doorknob, Felicity freezes, heat flashing across her cheeks. She’s never given content notes before. Did she cross a line? Say something stupid?

Tommy continues, “These aren’t [editor’s] handwriting. Or anything [editor] would say, actually.” He looks up at her, his eyes suddenly clearer and sharper than she’s seen them since he flung open the door, wet and half naked. “Who wrote these? Was it you?”

Her mouth opens, hangs there for a second, and finally she says. “Yes. I did.”

He walks slowly across to her, and Felicity’s heart pounds erratically for no good reason--he is not pinning her against the door, this is not one of his silly books.

He looks from the manuscript to her. “I never asked. What’s your name?”

“Felicity,” she blurts. “Felicity Smoak.”

A crooked smile spreads across half his mouth and he nods at her. “Tommy. Not Tammy. Tommy Merlyn. Felicity... would you mind staying a few more minutes?”

She looks down at the manuscript in his hands, his thumb running along the edge of a post-it.

He’s on deadline.

Which means she’s on deadline.

She just started here and she’s in a strange city and she cannot lose her job.

“Sure.”

A few minutes turns into over an hour as he asks her about her notations, which turns into another hour as she asks her own questions because he’s just Not There Yet.

a pot and a half of coffee later, the Q&A has devolved into a sounding board/writing session in which Tommy plants himself in front of his computer, typing faster than she’s ever seen anyone outside of her field (well. her would-be field.) as he chases the root of the problem--the bug in the code--and prints out scenes as fast as they’re written, turning his back on his desk and watching her sit on his couch (shoes kicked off, hair knotted on top of her head, nibbling the end of her pen) as she parses the patterns--and reads deeper--until suddenly it’s five in the morning, and Tommy jumps out of his chair with a crowing “YES!” and a fistpump more enthusiastic than anything this side of a john hughes movie as he finds the fix.

he turns around, grinning, eager to explain what he needs to do to Felicity--

and she’s on her side on his couch, curled around a throw pillow and entirely asleep.

he considers waking her up, but they just pulled an all nighter and she’s in no condition to drive anywhere, so he eases another pillow under her head, drapes a blanket over her--and brews a fresh pot of coffee and sits back in front of his computer, and writes with more fervor, focus, and surety than he’s felt in ages.

when Felicity wakes up five or six hours later, she’s alone in the study, and the coffee table in front of her is loaded down with two stacks of paper.

one is the original manuscript, her colorful post-its included.

the other is a fresh, neat stack--a thicker stack, at that--leafed through with a handful of plain yellow post-its in Tommy’s handwriting.

the little yellow square stuck to the first page bears just her name and two words.

“Thank you.”

frowning, Felicity gets up--wincing at the creaks and kinks in her joints from sleeping on an unfamiliar couch in her clothes--and pokes around hesitantly, looking for Tommy.

she finds him in the bedroom, in the clothes he was in before, sprawled crooked across the end of the still-made bed as if he passed out after sitting down.

considering the array of coffee cups in the study, Felicity decides against waking him.

she puts on her shoes, gathers her purse--and the new manuscript--and sticks one of Tommy’s own yellow posits in its place, promising to drop the new manuscript off at the office on her way home.

she debates saying something a little more personal, but decides against it. after all, they don’t really know each other at all, do they?

this was just work. weird, but work.

and so she leaves.

she assumes she’ll only ever interact with “Tammy” ever again by seeing the name on a future manuscript crossing her desk.

and so Tommy gets his manuscript in ahead of the deadline because of Felicity.

and of course this shit is right before the weekend.

so Felicity drops the manuscript at work before going home because holy shit she stayed up til five in the morning in some strange man’s apartment helping him write a romance novel and at one point he read part of a sex scene out loud to her and it was entirely unsexy because they bickered for almost ten minutes about alternative words and descriptions for the penis.

and so Felicity goes home to her new apartment about two blocks out from the glades, almost two thirds of her shit still not unpacked, because she’s been here all of two weeks and how is this her life?

she crashes for probably another four hours.

but when she gets up, in the hard light of afternoon, everything about the previous night seems even more surreal and absurd.

and then suddenly it hits her.

wait.

she knows the name Tommy Merlyn.

doesn’t she?

and so she opens her laptop and one pathetically shallow google search later she “knows” more about Tommy Merlyn than she probably ever needed to.

(like, she had to avoid picture proof that he does, as they both stated the night prior, have a penis, because there were like five articles that wanted to show her paparazzi photos of an island vacation like seven years ago where he and some guy named Oliver went skinny dipping.)

she knows he’s born-rich. like, filthy rich.

she knows his mother died when he was young, and there are quite a few articles speculating on his strained relationship with his father, and a truly ridiculous number of mentions on tmz and related websites, usually in connection to Oliver queen. though fewer by far in the last three or so years.

(a little research on barnes and noble dot com confirms her suspicion that Tammy Arthur started publishing more frequently in the last three years as well.)

she has a moment to groan and laugh when it just hits her.

Tommy Merlyn.

Tammy Arthur.

Tommy/Tammy.

Merlyn/Arthur.

his sense of humor is terrible and he has zero sense of subtlety.

or at least, that’s her first head-shaking thought.

and yet… she’s never read much romance before, but she found herself actually reading what she was working on for this book. and his sense of humor was witty, dry, quick. and there was so often such incredible, subtle grasp of character nuance and emotion. it’s a completely different depth.

and besides. nobody would ever think to make that connection, so he can AFFORD to make such an obvious pun.

it helps that he doesn’t include an author photo in his books and the author description of Tammy Arthur is as vague and generic as one could possibly imagine.

before she knows it she’s spent well over an hour internet stalking Tommy Merlyn.

the weirdness of it all hits her, and she’s in her apartment alone amongst the box labyrinth, blushing as if anyone is there to judge her.

she resolves to file it away as a crazy, unexpected experience, one of those curve balls life just sometimes throws at you.

it’s not like she’s ever going to see him again.

after all, it’s a big city, and she’s just one cog in the machine that churns out his books.

but yeah, it was crazy and weird, but it was fun.

and... here, she curls into her couch, biting her lip, eyes unfocused... for those long, strange hours, it didn’t matter at all that they were strangers. they hurdled right over the details, the incongruities, the differences, and connected on a level that was startlingly smooth, fluid.

it was nice.

she shakes her head at herself, daydreaming about the hot romance author she shared a bizarre meetcute with like she’s the heroine in a Tammy Arthur novel.

life, after all, is no story.

it isn’t that neat or optimistic.

it was one weird and shining moment, and it’s over.

really, now that she thinks about it, she imagines that on monday her editor will corner her and swear her to secrecy on the identity of Tammy Arthur. probably even reassign her.

she settles comfortably into the humdrum expectations of bumpy work life, and grumbles to herself over the imagined prospect of getting assigned the technical manuals.

after all, that’s what her life has been since MIT. humdrum. ordinary. full of the little bumps that only ever keep you uncomfortable, but still herd you along the same rutted track.

monday arrives.

there’s an email in her inbox from Tammy Arthur.

before she opens it, she’s shocked by her own visceral reaction.

electric tingles riding up and down her spine, spreading across her skin to raise every small hair with the held breath of anticipation.

she sits at her desk with her finger hovering on the mouse, for some reason half afraid to open it.

she clicks.

...and instantly deflates.

“thanks so much for going the extra mile. great job! look forward to the next project.

-Tammy”

she stares at the screen for just a moment, incredibly disappointed that it’s so... short. bland. and in that same generic, vaguely feminized “Tammy” voice that so neatly hid the secret of his gender and identity from her before friday’s bizarre turn of circumstance.

the disappointment sours her mood for the entire morning, but after lunch, she determines all over again to just file it away and move on. something crazy she can reveal when she’s old and writing her memoirs of being the world’s otherwise most boring woman, maybe.

but she’s barely returned to the office and sat down at her desk when editor summons Felicity to their office.

instantly the weekend’s mundane conspiracy theory clenches at her guts and she speculates wildly about ominous threats to her job, maybe even a nondisclosure agreement.

(hands sweating over being called to her supervisor’s office in a satellite publishing office makes the memory of her college self resolve to hack something just for kicks later that night. when did her conspiracy theories get so... small?)

editor closes the office door behind her.

Felicity braces for impact--and just in time, because editor practically MELTS in an outpouring of gratitude.

editor’s child is fine, it was all just a big scare, but it was so incredible of Felicity to go that extra length to get the job done by deadline. there’s a wink and a grin, and a promise that dedication like that will be remembered, and hey maybe one day soon Felicity will be in an office like this of her own, eh?

a little bit dazed, Felicity awkwardly fumbles through a response--and just as she’s about to leave, editor says, “Oh, one more thing!”

and here it is, right?

the sly threat, the velvet-cloaked knife pressuring secrecy?

“So, you met Tammy.” wink, wincing smile. “‘Tammy’s’ agent only contracts with us under the informal agreement that we keep the author’s identity--and particularly gender--under wraps, so if you could keep mum on that, you’d really be saving my ass.”

“Um.” Felicity blinks. that’s it? that’s the threat, that’s the pressure? “Of course.”

editor gives her a grateful smile. “Knew I could count on you. Oh, and you really did some great work. You certainly made an impression. I gave the new manuscript a couple of reads this weekend, and I have to say I think this is the best Tammy Arthur yet. I think you might have a knack for this editing thing.” editor laughs. “You’re a natural.”

Felicity buries a little twinge of resentment.

what she is is a natural programmer. a natural coder. she’s only good at this because of that.

but she stifles it. if she’d really been made for that path, wouldn’t she still be on it? would it be this hard to get back on it?

so she forces a smile, thanks the editor, and goes back to her desk.

and well… that’s it, isn’t it?

neat and tidied away, the most exciting experience of her last several years, and now the box is on the lid and it’s time to get on with life, boring and predictable.

the same old pattern, carrying along smoothly even despite the occasional minor interruption.

sometimes, Felicity feels like she’s the bug in the code.

little does she know, however, that she’s given Tommy something of a fever.

he crashed out after completing the revisions on friday--well, saturday morning. but when he got up?

at first he felt wrung out, scooped hollow the way you do when you’ve Finished something and given it everything you had.

he hasn’t felt like that in a long time.

it’s not that he’s been phoning it in, but as he drifts through saturday like a ghost, he ruminates on the feeling like he’s shaken off a husk he hadn’t even realized had cocooned him.

and slowly, he realizes that over the last few years, even as he’s gotten more comfortable as a writer, more confident, he’s gotten a bit... lost.

he’s been buried. buried under expectations and his own secrets and the invisibility they require.

he’s a writer.

he’s good at it.

and by god, he loves what he does. it’s the one thing he feels proud of in his life. the one thing he could imagine telling his mother about without any sense of shame or need for apology or excuse.

...and yet it’s the one thing he can’t share with people.

and he hadn’t realized quite how much he’d cut himself off of with that.

back in the days before he was published, when he was just posting little things online, he could interact with his readers. and now, sure, there are reviews, there’s critical publications and there’s bloggers. he even gets the occasional fan letter routed through the publisher.

but he doesn’t respond.

he doesn’t go on book tours.

he can’t do signings.

he can’t even put his own face on the back of his books.

the one thing that feels most like himself in his life... and he can’t own it.

and it’s not just the sense of ownership, of pride and accomplishment he’s missing now.

now it’s that electric, live-wire current of interaction he discovered so stunningly effortlessly that he didn’t even notice it with Felicity.

it’s never been like that with his editor.

that was always a cut and dry back and forth, pure business conducted mostly through email.

the closest he can grasp on it in recent memory was the one time he got Oliver to actually pay attention and listen while he bounced a book idea off of him.

he’s seen other authors do reddit amas, convention panels, twitter q&a’s, signings, so many venues where they interfaced directly with the audience, connecting immediately and intimately with the very people the story was always for.

he’s incredibly envious, he realizes.

he hadn’t realized until last night with Felicity how much life it breathed into the entire process.

he wonders if it was the connection itself that was so incredible about last night...

or specifically Felicity.

the way she listened... the questions she asked... she had a way of turning things over in her head to show him sides he hadn’t discovered for himself, forcing him to shape the characters, the plot, the backstory, the tone, even the prose itself in a fuller, more vibrant way.

he finds himself sitting on his couch, huffing a quiet laugh as he remembers the way she’d wrinkled her nose when he read the word “member” aloud, and the snapping-quick debate that had followed over the connotation various words and descriptions for male genitals evoked.

he wonders, suddenly, if she’s read the new revisions.

if she realizes that everything hinged on one of the last exchanges they had, around 3 in the morning, when he was venting his frustration out loud over the root cause of the entire disaster that had brought her to him, and she’d lain on her back on his couch, eyes closed, and asked in a sleepy, vague voice the question that had unlocked and expanded everything.

it wasn’t even a question about anything in the text.

she’d simply wondered aloud about what made the male lead become the person that made the decisions he did, when the answer wasn’t in any of the big, shaping events Tommy had built into his backstory.

she’d trailed off ticking through the things it wasn’t... and as his mind had chased along after her voice, he found himself filling in the blanks.

and, in a sharp detour, remembering that it wasn’t always the big, obvious markers that sharpened or smoothed a person’s contours.

it wasn’t always, say, a mother’s death, or a father’s scorn and neglect.

sometimes it was the quiet certainty of the best friend at your side--or the sharp skip of the five minutes when they weren’t, even though nothing happened.

most of what Tommy had mined for his character’s history after that question would never come anywhere near even the subtext of the book itself, but it was there nonetheless, supporting through underpinning, solidifying him from a character, a vessel carrying out the necessary demands of the plot, into a person, complex and contradictory and whole.

Tommy is almost embarrassed, after all of that, to realize he never got more of the complexity that was Felicity beyond her name and occupation.

for a moment, he considers getting in contact with her, suddenly consumed with curiosity about what made her whole and contradictory, what big and small life events shaped her mind into one that saw such startling angles.

almost instantly, he’s awkward and embarrassed.

he trapped the poor woman in his apartment for an entire night like some sort of creep. she was there because her job obligated it, not so he could become obsessed.

what would he even say to her if he did get in contact with her again?

you’re incredible? i’ve been sleepwalking through life and you shook me awake? i think you saved my book and i want to know your backstory?

but no, no he can’t say any of that.

hell, if she were a girl Tommy had met a nightclub, maybe then he could say it.

(but more likely he’d open his mouth and some godawful pickup line involving sushi would fall out of it.)

the Tommy Merlyn he puts on at clubs and bars is a smarmy ass, and it’s great for finding someone to fuck, but it’s shit for any connection beyond the physical.

and Felicity Smoak has already seen so far beyond that.

she’s seen him, who he is behind a keyboard, when he’s agonizing over comma placement and tearing at his hair because he’s forgotten the word that means suspicious and curious at the same time.

the idea of walking that back to introduce her to the line-dropping bed hopper makes him cringe.

he never knows how to introduce people to the Tommy that spends weeknights past midnight reading instead of dancing.

the closest he ever got was, well… laurel. and that ended so disastrously it nearly collapsed an entire chain of relationships.

he likes that this Felicity fell by happenstance into meeting the self he actually likes.

best not to ruin that.

it’s something he can hold onto.

that one night, the one time he spent with someone being real.

someone who wasn’t the only one who’d known him since actual infancy.

after all, the likelihood that he could do that right more than one night? abominably slim.

best to leave it as it was.

so he opens up his email. the "Tammy" account.

he gets distracted, briefly, by rereading the handful of emails exchanged with Felicity before last night, the ones where he’d never even read her signature line.

he reads them a little more closely, looking for some sign in them that he missed that said meeting her was going to change something.

but it’s not there.

it’s just perfunctory work emails.

dropped commas, a missing page faxed.

she was no one, and so was he.

so he opens a new email.

for a wild, breathless moment, his fingertips resting on the smooth keys, he almost does it.

almost begins typing without a metaphysical mask.

but he hits the first letter with his index finger, and as the next follows, and the next, he realizes the mask is already there, and he wouldn’t know how to take it off if he tried.

he writes what barely amounts to three sentences, reflexively slipping into the syntax and word choices he long ago crafted to speak as “Tammy.”

he hits send with a cringe, scrubbing his hands over his face, and shuts his laptop almost angrily.

move on.

just move on.

he lets it go with effort. settles into a grim sort of hunker-down and focuses on the last rush of activity that follows a book in final edits and pre-publication.

monday arrives and he even forgets to check for a reply from Felicity (as if there could be anything to say in response to the nothing he wrote to her) until editor calls to enthuse about the revisions, reassure about their child’s health, thank him for the flowers--and finally, at the end, promise ms. Smoak understands the necessity of complete discretion, but if he’s worried, they can always reassign her?

“No, don’t do that,” he blurts, oddly anxious. if they reassigned her... he suddenly imagines the next book, and some other copy editor sending him perfunctory emails about paragraph breaks and font size. the thought is inexplicably excruciating. “That’s really not necessary. She was--she was... remarkable. I trust her, uh, her discretion completely.”

there’s a beat of surprised silence, and then editor says with a smile in their voice, “Well. That’s a relief to hear.” another pause, as if something is considered but then goes unsaid. “I’ll email you about the cover design tomorrow?”

Tommy agrees, deflated that that really is it.

it’s really over then.

and it is over for a little over a month.

Tommy gets over his disappointment (or buries it) and grabs on with both hands to that sense of renewed purpose.

in the meanwhile, his book releases, to better reviews and a bump in sales across his catalog than he’s seen in a while.

(in the meanwhile, Felicity impulsively steps into a bookstore on the tuesday it releases and buys a copy for herself. she gets home and curls up with it--and is arrested by the page before the acknowledgements--the usual acknowledgements that always thank the publishing staff--the page that reads “For F”)

(there’s no way she’s “F”. right?)

in the meanwhile, Tommy is already working on his next book--and working on convincing his agent and editor to take it.

he’s never dabbled much in the subgenres with his romances, preferring to sell his stories on the strength of the characters and the accessibility of their choices and desires.

but aren’t paranormal romance and mystery romances the darlings of the genre right now?

and this is a different take on even that.

he’s innovating a new potential moneymaker.

(they’re not completely sold, he knows, but he’s winning them over. he just needs to convince them with a test chapter.)

superhero romance could be the big new thing.

it was remembering that idea he bounced off of Oliver that did it.

he never wrote that book, but he contrived that story in part to fulfill his own interests and as an attempt to cultivate Oliver’s.

he and Oliver used to read all those comics as kids

iron man and the x men, captain america, all of that.

it had started because Oliver had once again shrugged off the romance genre as just “not for him” and Tommy asking “What if it was like comic books, though? Superheroes, you know? There’s always a girlfriend or a husband, right? That’s a romance.”

and he’d had Oliver’s interest on that premise for longer than Oliver had ever paid attention to what Tommy was writing.

and now, well, now Tommy’s a seasoned author, with experience on what readers want and what will hold their interest, and what they’re willing to entertain.

he’s galvanized anew, remembering all over again how much he’d loved the rough sketch of the characters he’d made up for Oliver.

the tragic, strong-jawed hero, and the unexpected, maverick woman who challenged and brightened him.

he knew better now, of course.

less heroic angsting, more female agency.

so Tommy writes like a man on fire until he has what he feels is one of the best pitches of his life.

and he’s not wrong.

his agent and editor are both skeptical to begin with, but they come up for air from the proffer pages with an astonished gleam in their eye.

there’s really something in there, they tell him.

if this takes off, it could be major.

a series, he challenges. if this book sells, he could write an entire run based on the main pair. maybe even expand it into a universe of miniseries based on side characters and other heroes.

it’s a risk, they warn him.

he wants to take it.

and to his shock and utter delight, so do they.

fast forward another month and Tommy stalls completely.

he’s barely four chapters into the book, his editor is visibly restraining themselves from cursing at him in their emails, and his agent is warning Tommy will be the death of them.

(it’s partly down to Tommy’s crabbiness and frustration. he’s being difficult and knowing it only makes him more of an ass.)

the time has come in the story to get the heroine involved in the super secret superhero business and everything is falling apart.

every rewrite is a false start, falling flat and twanging like a snapped guitar string, discordant and grating and wrong.

at his wit’s end, Tommy breaks down.

he emails his editor.

“forward chapters to Felicity Smoak. ask her to meet if acceptable.”

editor calls him. “This is highly unorthodox. Ms. Smoak is a copyeditor and this is well beyond the scope of her duties.”

“Please just ask her," he pleads. “I need her perspective. Forget meeting for now, just have her read the chapters and email me her thoughts.”

reluctantly, the editor loops Felicity in.

she’s stunned and baffled.

she’s not an editor. she’s not even a romance reader (ignore the stack of Tammy Arthur novels rapidly piling up on her nightstand...)

when the editor tells her the premise of the new venture, Felicity does perk up a bit.

she always did like comic books and superheroes. that’s at least a little more stable footing for her.

still, she’s almost suspicious.

it’s been over two months and she was sure “Tammy Arthur” forgot she even existed. and now he’s demanding her opinions on his new book?

she almost wants to refuse. this is not in her job description.

but then, for a moment, she lets herself go back to that night.

the crackling energy of their back and forth, the urgency of the deadline and the satisfaction every time they parsed through a problem or understood each other.

and on another level, the lightning current energy of something new and strange and interesting interrupting her routine.

when did she become this person? someone who backed warily away from anything that threatened to disrupt a life she hadn’t even wanted and wasn’t even satisfied in?

impulsively, she says yes.

she reads Tommy’s new chapters, and in less than two hours, she finishes, hunched over the pages, fingertips between her lips as she perches cross-legged on the edge of her couch.

it’s still rough but it feels so... exciting. fun. and full of so much potential.

she loves the heroine. she reminds Felicity wistfully of someone she once thought she might become;

and the hero is intriguing, sexy, complex and a little heartbreaking, even if she finds she wants to shake him sometimes.

and then, right as she flips through the last few pages, eyes widening and a grin splitting her face as she whispering urges the heroine onward...

it stumbles.

tangles up in itself.

and by the time she reaches the last paragraph, she’s frowning, baffled and feeling a little cheated.

before she’s even thinking about it, she sets the pages aside and snatches up her laptop, opening her email and typing fervidly, paragraphs of questioning that is nearly interrogation, interspersed with genuine enthusiasm for the things that are so very right.

she hits send almost scowling, feeling personally affronted by the letdown of what should have been a turning point on the cusp of wonder, characters that collapsed from grand and towering figures into flat archetypes that barely resemble who they were only pages earlier.

she flops backward into her chair still frowning, still thinking about the sudden souring of something that had been so fantastic.

moments later she jolts upright and opens another email, firing off another volley of questions and opinion.

almost the moment she hits send, her inbox pings with a reply to the first email.

she opens it as if she could rip open a physical envelope in her excitement, then frowns in confusion as she gets answers that feel incomplete in consideration of her second email.

she’s finishing a response when a reply to the second message arrives. wrinkling her nose in annoyance, she hits send hurriedly and opens the new reply.

she’s in the middle of reading it when another arrives.

exasperated, she skips right to it.

it’s short.

“this isn’t working. can we talk?” he includes a cell phone number.

Felicity hesitates, heartbeat suddenly racing. the high-voltage energy of that first night feels almost at her fingertips again, and she hesitates, biting her lip before impulsively sending back, “can we meet instead?”

                                                       Tip Jar!

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[percontaion-points]

Let’s Play “Moments: Millionaire Makeover” Part 1

This story starts off by warning that there is adult content. *cracks knuckles* Sign me up for this!

For something different, I've picked the name Hebe for the MC.

We start off with Hebe in a car with somebody named Bennett. He's some big-wig at such-and-such company, and Hebe works for him. They're coming home from a party, and he offered to drive her home, which makes Hebe more than a little anxious.

As they're driving along, Bennett has to suddenly break for some idiot who just jumped in front of their oncoming car. Hebe probably would have whacked her head against the dash had Bennett not put an arm in front of her to protect her. And it was just for saving her, which Hebe understands... but he still kind of put his arm over her boob, and... wow. That's not awkward at all. They were silent until he dropped her off at her house, when he said “see you later”.

Hebe then remarks that it wasn't until the next day when she fell in love with him. But her chances for having a one-on-one conversation following that were slim to none... they just didn't even work in the same worlds, despite working at the same place.

Some time later, the obligatory BFF, Morgan, invites Hebe out on Friday. To a bachelor's auction. Go on. She has to elaborate on what a “bachelor auction” is, and for those who don't know, it's where they parade young men on a stage and then ladies bid on him. The bachelor then takes the person who bought him on a date. The money usually goes for some cause, like starving children or to help the church get a new roof or whatever.

Hebe isn't overly impressed with the idea, and would rather stay home and do nothing. Morgan, however, says that Hebe needs to get out once in a while. She then brings up Bennett... because of course she did. Hebe is stunned about the chance to finally have another conversation with Bennett. Morgan tells her to buy an evening gown and some fancy shoes, and hangs up.

Friday comes along, and Hebe goes to the auction. But she feels awkward and out of place; she works in a cubical, and seems to be some sort of programmer... the other people here are the kind who rub elbows for a living.

That's Morgan.

Oh, and this is Hebe.

Morgan has to remind Hebe of why she's doing this, and decides to get Hebe drunk off of champagne. Hebe also kind of slips on the marble floors in her brand-new high heels. Hebe makes some morbid joke about hiring a date, but Morgan has to remind her that there's a difference between hiring an escort and buying a bachelor. Sort of, I guess? Anyway, Morgan seems to think that this is somehow better than just getting her friend a subscription to one of the nicer dating sites. But Hebe also seems to agree with Morgan, that she should find a boyfriend. Even if it does “reek of impulsiveness and lunacy”.

She thinks about the car accident that made her fall for Bennett. Her brother apparently died in another car accident years earlier, and it kind of put her into an emotional stupor... one that she didn't wake up from until her near-miss with Bennett.

She asks Morgan about how much money that people will be bidding. She only has three thousand, which is her vacation money, and the only thing that she's willing to part with. And even then, the thought of dropping three grand on a singular damned date doesn't exactly sit well with her. But Morgan says that she'll “treat” Hebe to this, since it was her idea in the first place. (Damn straight you pay to get me laid, you lunatic!)

They go sit down, and Morgan reminds her to get out of her comfort zone once in a while. Hebe agrees that she doesn't want to be that “nerd” anymore... and girl. Don't change yourself because of some guy. I promise you that his dick game not nearly good enough for that bullshit. You don't even have to fuck him, and I can tell you that already! But then Morgan goes on to say that things that men like in a woman is the knowledge that she's desired by other men. Which... tread carefully, Morgan. This is starting to sound like sexist claptrap to me.

Morgan then grabs a bidding paddle (82, if this is important?). The Emcee comes out and says that the money will go to a literacy foundation, so there. The first bachelor comes out, and starts the bidding at $5k! FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS. JFC WHY. Also, probably a good thing that Morgan is paying, because that's 2k more than Hebe said she had to spend. Morgan lifts her paddle at 7k, and Hebe's like WTF Morgan?! That bachelor goes for 14k, and not to our MC. Hebe also thinks about how she only had 3k, and the starting bid didn't even start at her limit.

Some time passes, and finally the last bachelor is announced.

Oh gee, I wonder who the actual love interest is going to be? Could it be bachelor number one? Bachelor number two? Or the only bachelor with an actual avatar?

Hebe remarks about how handsome he is, and Morgan is surprised by Hebe's almost unconscious utterance. This embarrassed Hebe to no end. Morgan asks if Hebe is having sexual fantasies about the mystery guy, but Hebe says that she doesn't even have sexual fantasies about Bennett. But this leads her down a weird rabbit hole of thinking about Bennett naked and wondering if Bennett was affected by his having accidentally touched her breast during their little accident. But she puts a stop on those thoughts before they can go too far.

The emcee gives the description for the bachelor, which makes Hebe think that he wouldn't be interested in her. Even though like... people lie about those things. Even self-lying, but it's even worse when people are told to make something up. This is for charity after all, and some weirdo who lounges in bed past noon and whose hobbies include watching repeats of The Office... doesn't exactly bring in money for charity! The emcee goes on to say that the winner of this man will spend two days and a night in New York City, have romantic dinners at five-star restaurants, see a Broadway play, a concert, and various museums. Well, no ice sculptures then... lame. /Groundhog Day references

Morgan gets into a bidding war to win this guy for Hebe. It makes Hebe uncomfortable, but Morgan is fucking determined to get her friend laid, no matter the cost, apparently. Also, exactly what does Morgan do that she's got like 13k lying around to throw at something like this? As the price keeps going up, Hebe thinks “I could buy a brand new car for that amount of money.” She also thinks about Bennett actually seeing her as a woman worth being in a relationship with.

Morgan finally bids 20k, which the emcee says is the highest bid of the evening. Nobody is willing to top that, so Morgan wins the bid. Morgan offers Hebe a self-satisfied look. As the bachelors are paraded out onto the stage one last time, Hebe looks at the bachelor Morgan won for her, and she starts thinking really dirty thoughts. She wants to know what his face looks like.

The emcee then has the bachelors take off their masks, but there's only one that Hebe can focus on, obviously. When he takes his mask off, Hebe has to fight off fainting. She knows this man. From three years earlier. In Dublin. And it wasn't exactly a good time.

[lonerangerinspace]

Bellarke Fic Rec 2/?

[Part 1]

More Bellarke fics to share!  Need something to get through the month long break.  Lots of wonderful and creative authors in this fandom :)

Genres: Modern AU, Soulmate AU, Celebrity AU, Cannon Divergence/AU, Grounder AU, Historical/Fantasy AU

Modern AU

Better Winter Wrap It Up

Octavia drags Bellamy to a My Little Pony tournament. Bellamy is deeply upset about the whole thing, but then the girl running the tournament is really cute.

Ghost Watch: Season 3, Episode 4

“Hey guys, it’s me, Bellamy Blake, and tonight on Ghost Watch we’re going to be investigate a house owned by Clarke Griffin. Her roommates, Monty Green and Jasper Jordan, called us in to investigate their home. Now, you guys know that to prevent contamination and suggestibility, we don’t know anything about what has happened in this home or its history. But me, my sister Octavia, and our friend Nathan Miller aren’t going in blind, either. Our tech whizzes, Raven Reyes and Kyle Wick, will have our backs in the tech center.  Welcome to Ark, Virginia. Welcome to Ghost Watch.”

And Tell My Name To Distant Ages

Trying to escape her past, Clarke accidentally stirs up a friendly but determined ghost. Luckily, local historian Bellamy Blake is there to help her uncover crimes of the past and present and bring justice to those who have been wronged. And if in the process she falls for him just a little bit - well, that’s just how life goes.

omoi ga subete wo kaete yuku yo (kitto)

Inasmuch as anyone can be prepared for a magical creature to appear in front of their eyes and tell them they need to help save the world from evil, Bellamy Blake is ready for it. Which basically means he has Hulu and Crunchyroll set up on Miller’s old Wii, and his little sister really likes magical girl anime.

vulgar when brought to light, vulgar the lie

Clarke goes into policing because it’s in her blood.

Soulmate AU

I should ink my skin with your name

Prompt: “Soulmate au where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever the hell you want, it will show up on your soul mates skin as well.” Or Tattoos, assholes, greek/roman mythology and everything else that could make Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin soulmates.

Omnia Dicta Fortiora Si Dicta Latina

A soulmate au, where you get a sentence in black somewhere on your body on your 18th birthday, and at at the moment you realize you love them, your soulmate will say the sentence, and it will tingle and turn silver.  And of course Bellarke has the weirdest sentences.

Arrows of Fate

When the residents of the Ark turn 15 a silver mark appears on their bodies. One other person has that same mark. That person is their soulmate. Bellamy hasn’t found his match when he arrives on Earth, but when he notices the mark on his co-leader’s hip, he knows she’s the one. But he can’t possibly be in love with the Princess.

Cloud Diner

Clarke Griffin dreams about the same boy every night after her father’s death. He helps her through tough times and she returns the favor. There’s no way he’s real, right?  A Bellarke Soulmates AU

‘cause you color me clear

Clarke is born without a soulmark. She becomes a tattoo artist to write her own destiny across her skin.

Celebrity AU

Coming Home To You

BFF prompt fill for: “Can you please act appropriately do you know just how many of your fuck ups I’ve had to cover up last week’ Celebrity and manager AU taken from cup-of-hot-coffee’s prompt list

Academic

Clarke is a semi-famous History Channel host who is teaching her first university class on Women Warriors. The first thing she notices is the manly man sitting in the back, silent. Then he starts arguing with her and never stops. Infuriating. Particularly when she finds out that he is the brother of her old college friend. The most infuriating thing is how much she wants him, but can’t have him, because he is her student.

We Can Make It If We Take It Slow

It’s been three years since Clarke actually saw Bellamy, instead of just interacting via texts and tweets, but that’s the thing about being in a franchise: they keep coming back.

rumour has it

Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin are sleeping together. Or so say the tabloids.  (aka CO-STARS AU)

For Tonight, Let’s Just Pretend

Being on a variety show where she pretends she has a crush on Bellamy while pretending she’s not nursing an actual crush on Bellamy isn’t exactly Clarke’s best idea, but she can totally handle it. She’s an actor. It’s fine.

Cannon Divergence/AU/Post-Canon

The Post-Apocalyptic Guide to Raising a Hero

He’s not intentional - this child of theirs that everyone thinks will grow up to save the world- but he changes everything. He’s living breathing proof of those feelings they only deal with in the dark. He’s that little bit of light guiding them forward- away from the storm clouds, away from the smoke.  He’s hope- and he’s theirs.  Or, How to be Perpetual F**k-ups but Still Leave a Hell of a Legacy

Not With Haste

Post-canon: Long after they’ve saved the world, Clarke and Bellamy try to get their shit together.  (Or, how Clarke comes to realize she might need a bit more than subtlety to get her point across.)

The Homestead

Bellamy and the remainder of the original 100 are assigned a new mission - one that will hopefully cultivate peace on Earth and peace in their hearts.

these are the days that bind us

Bellamy thinks he could do this forever, like they were the only two people on the Ground, Clarke’s lips and Clarke’s knees pressed into his hips and Clarke’s bright hyper eyes closed with him, her weight canted into him like she trusts him to catch her.

Son of Lycaon

From the ground Clarke can see that Amy was right; it’s not quite a wolf, but she doesn’t know what else to call it. The teeth are wrong, its spine elongated too much- it’s the stuff of nightmares, if Clarke had any room in her dreams for more horrors.

Grounder AU

Stars In The Water, Blood On Our Hands

The Ark knows that people have survived on the ground, but they don’t know anything about them. Now, with time and oxygen running out, information on these people will be what saves their lives.  Clarke is sent down to spy on the grounders.  She’s certainly not meant to fall in love.

Facing Tempests of Dust

Clarke Griffin has grown up in the perfectly controlled environment of the Ark dome, a city created to withstand the destruction of the world outside. Now, she’s been sent out with 100 other delinquents to try to survive on their own, but she knows the truth. They weren’t sent away for their crimes, but rather to buy time for others in Ark, as the city is failing. While Clarke struggles to lead her band of teenagers, she encounters a man with strange abilities and an offer she finds hard to refuse.

Turning Puddles Into Oceans

Prompt: Grounder Clarke finding a hurt Bellamy and taking him to her village to heal him.

Before Those Hands Pulled Me From the Earth

He comes alive to the sound of scraping. Around him the earth is warm and whispering. Wake up, it tells him. She needs you.

In My Dreams We Are Always Together

100 delinquents got sent to Earth and battled for survival against the odds. They landed in Trikru territory but that is not where they stayed. After weeks of battle and war, the Sky People finally lost. They were sent to a land far away, where a group of Grounders unlike any they’ve met waited for them.

Historical/Fantasy AU

the world was born in smoke and fire (and so were we)

The crown rests heavy on top of his head, eight pounds of gold encrusted with emeralds and rubies and a thousand tons of responsibility and duty. He can feel its edge digging painfully into the skin of his forehead, can already sense some of his curls getting hopelessly tangled around the prongs. He forces himself to hold still, understanding the importance and uniqueness of this moment.  He is the first ever king not descended from royal blood. The first king to usurp the previous before his death, and banish him for crimes of inhumanity performed against his people. He is twenty-two years old, and the streets whisper his name.  “Bellamy Blake,” Marcus Kane, his mentor and first advisor, intones, “King of Polis, Lord of the Stars and Protector of the Earth, you may rise.”

Between Me and My Lord and Kin

Lady Clarke wasn’t expecting her first assignment as a knight to be taking command of a refugee camp. It’s not exactly what she had in mind, when she became a knight. Bellamy Blake, refugee tailor and pain in her ass, wasn’t what she had in mind either.  In a good way, as it turns out.

Tell Me No More Stories and I’ll Tell You No Lies

Octavia Blake steals a rose, and her brother goes to live with a beast.

anchor up to me, love

"Duty? You’ve kidnapped me from my home—"  He held up a finger. "Kindly saved your life, which you still haven’t thanked me for."  She ignored his correction.  or the pirate au no one asked for

A Scandalous Proposal

A bellarke Victorian era one-shot.  Clarke’s mother wants her to marry Lord Collins. Clarke has some other ideas…

[ltofoceania]

Dirk Gently Carnival/Fair AU

OMG another post. I was thinking a lot last night. Here’s another idea I had. 

I also spammed @quingigillion about this earlier today. So this is a combination of hers and my ideas. The Elemental one was literally just me throwing things at my BFF. 

- We've got Dirk as a shitty fortune teller and that's hilarious.   ~ Just imagine: "Step on up, I'll tell you your fortune! Only a dollar!" Dirk says trying to get customers.Todd doesn't want to, but Amanda thinks it'll be fun. So Todd pays the two dollars for them both and Dirk is “!!!”   ~ Dirk reads Amanda's fortune and it's nothing but "loud music, white hair, fire, and blue???"   ~ For Todd it's "death??? Oh no it's a maze. And 3 questions, 1 answer"     + Todd is unimpressed and Amanda is all excited.

- Dirk lives in a dinky little trailer/caravan thing. But it's a bed and a roof over his head so he's happy. 

- So like fortune teller Dirk is totally (not) psychic but is also terrifyingly accurate.

- Bart is a that person who does all the dangerous tricks and shit. She will swallow a sword no problem, spit fire, and even juggle chainsaws or something.

- Ken is her assistant is always sweating bullets because oh my gawd she has no fear.

- The Rowdies are acrobats.

- Todd thinks Dirk is full of shit and doesn't believe any of his predictions. 

- Ok what about Mona???   ~ She's the freaky ass princess character who hypnotizes people and puts them to sleep. She makes them reveal secrets to the audience claiming it's her hypnosis, but it's all their deepest darkest secrets.   ~ Or she runs the "fun" house with mirrors and weird ass traps. She does creepy voiceovers while patrons wander through it.M   ~ Mona really likes fucking with people really.

- Dirk is always "please be nice, this is supposed to be fun" and Mona is "if they didn't want to get screwed with, then they wouldn't have paid me a dollar each"

- Blackwing is the carnival, 

- Can we make Friedkin a clown?   ~ The Answer: Yes!!!   ~  Friedkin is that sad angry clown man who just is like "what is my life??? I have killer skills and yet here I am."   ~  Him in a clown outfit and a painted sad face having fruit thrown at him by the Rowdies.

- With Wilson in charge and Riggins as the ringmaster   ~ Wilson does the money too.   ~ Wilson rules with an iron fist   ~ Wilson kicks Riggins out eventually and instates Friedkin as ringmaster instead he’s easier to manipulate than Riggins who then acts as like their (our squad) dad.   ~ All she has to do is give him a bigger cut and he'll do anything.   ~ And Friedkin, in his new role, decides to shake things up and mixes everyone into the big tent event.     + So we're talking Dirk being forced into a ring with a lion where Bart is normally comfortable.

- Estevez and Zimmerfield as security/bouncers   ~ Estevez is more or less friends with everyone.   ~ Zimmerfield is just "I'm too old for this shit, but I don't have to worry about not seeing the world as I've always wanted"

- FARAH DOES THE KNIFE THROWING

- FRIEDKIN PUTS DIRK ON THE WHEEL AND FARAH HAS TO THROW AT HIM AND PRAY SHE DOESN’T MISS   ~ Like little Dirk in the comic and Bart

- Lydia as a dog whisperer?   ~ She has a corgi who she can talk to and they do tricks together   ~ You know the dog dances and agility runs and stuff   ~ She's the adorable warm up act.

- Ted/Ed/Jed/Zed as panther tamers   ~ Big animal tamers in general maybe??? 

- Patrick is either dead in this or is the lion tamer   ~ This idea^^^ was vetoed in favor of a better one.   ~ How about he dives with sharks???     + And one of them bites him one day   ~ The carnival has one shark. Like one tank. It's weird, but Patrick is eccentric and it sells.   ~ Maybe even some eels thrown in.   ~ Patrick’s like we need one (1) rhino and one (1) shark   ~ Wilson is just "whyyyyyyyyy?" And when Patrick somehow comes up with the extra $25,000 she doesn't question it again.

-Patrick has like a secret trust fund or something. (secret carnival hedge fund)   ~ Saving up to enable him and Lydia to leave   ~ In the mean time he'll buy a rhino   ~  He's also a somewhat impulse buyer.     + Patrick legit can't control himself. He's like "big and scary "     ~  He really loved Pepe.   ~  Maybe when Pepe dies Patrick’s like WE'LL GET A SHARK INSTEAD

- Lydia is friends with Dirk and Farah, and she wants them to come with her and her dad.

- Everyone is poor.   ~  Patrick has one good suit.   ~ Lydia has one good dress.   ~ Dirk has just the one jacket, trousers, button up, and tie.   ~  They’re all so poor they live on the carnival food and occasional pizza orders which is why it’s all Dirk loves.

- Ken is also the mechanic of the whole operation. When something goes down he's there to fix it and it's back up and running in no time.

-Bart lives on cotton candy and funnel cakes. 

- Dirk eats nothing but fried foods.   ~ Like deep fried Oreos.   ~ Deep fried cereal.   ~ Deep fried Twinkies.    ~ Bacon wrapped drumsticks. (when he is forced to have some damn protein)

- Farah tries to eat healthy.

- Patrick always tries to go into the towns they're staying in and have a real meal.   ~  Patrick has tried to bring Dirk into the towns but he's way too curious and Patrick will not get roped into being babysitter again.   ~  It was a mess...Dirk wanted to do EVERYTHING   ~  Lydia thought it was cute and funny, but Patrick was just "For the love of god I am a single parent of one and this grown ass man is not mine."

- Lydia always brings back leftovers and shares with her friends.

[chris--daae]

If I was a decent writer I would write my post-LND E/R story. I have material for like 3 full books. Let me tell you some highlights:

Book 1: -It’s narrated by Raoul. He starts like “this man is actually very complex and I judged him badly in the past.” Then Erik does literally anything and he is just “Fucking asshole. I hate him.” -Erik and Raoul are like two nagging old men to each other -There’s a running joke that Madame Giry is the oldest person alive. Raoul often says Erik is older than her just to annoy him -Gustave is the first one to realize their relationship and is super okay with it -Those three “freaks” are in a poly relationship. They all have a crush on Erik. -They have some tragic backstory also -Erik does as he promised and gives half of the park to Giry and Meg -No hard feelings to Meg really -Raoul has nightmares about what happened in Paris, what makes Erik truly feel guilty, but they solve this in some cute way -Raoul couldn’t care less for Erik’s face -They go back to France like once and that prologue auction scene happens. Raoul buys the music box because Erik really wanted that back -Erik has a lost daughter that is 5 years younger than Gustave -She just shows up at his door step one day saying “You are my Dad” -She got her looks from him and that’s how they know it’s true -Raoul becomes the cool uncle to the girl -Meg finds a nice guy that truly loves her but decides that she doesn’t want to throw away her dreams for some guy like Christine did. They still go on dates sometimes -Gustave and his sister have the most loving and cute relationship

Book 2: -Time skip to when the kids are already adults -Erik taught them all about music but he doesn’t want them to become musicians and never allows them to perform at the park. Raoul scolds him for it. -He also never told them anything about his past, and avoids their questions. Raoul scolds him for this too. -Gustave is done with this, so he goes live in Paris and become a singer there, like his mother. -He meets a young singer who becomes his best friend and later, his lover. -She also has a tragic backstory. -Gustave mets people who worked with his mother and they start telling him stories -Gustave decided to visit the now abandoned opera house, and his friend goes with him. He visits both his fathers’ boxes, and finds out the secret door in box 5. His friend finds it awesome and that’s how they know they are meant for each other. -They start researching together and find out the whole story. -When his fathers go see him performing, Gustave confronts Erik about what he found out. Raoul can be heard in the background saying “I told you.” -They all make a nightly family excursion to the lair -Gustave’s now girlfriend fangirls over Erik like all the time -Bonus: Erik finds his old compositions there. One of them is the title song. He plays it for Gustave and his girlfriend to sing. Raoul is very weirded out by the whole thing.

Book 3: -Gustave’s girlfriend starts being haunted just like Christine was all those years ago -Meanwhile in America, Erik finds out that his daughter sneaks out to sing at a nightclub. Raoul can be heard in the background said “I told you.” -Gustave’s girlfriend and Erik’s daughter are bffs by the way -As they receive Gustave’s letter telling about what is going on, Raoul and Erik travel once again to Europe, leaving Erik’s daughter in charge. -In the park workers’ words, she is more strict than Erik and Madame Giry together. -Erik has a bunch of psychological moments during the trip, including a nightmare in which he is killed by his past self. Idk I like this scene. -The new ghost, however, is just, to put it simply, the Kylo Ren to the Phantom’s Darth Vader. He’s not even ugly. -It takes long to get to the kid’s stubborn head, but Erik finally gets him to understand that living underground and kidnapping singers are not the secrets to inspiration, and that this is actually a terrible way to live. -Everyone is happy ever after -Raoul and Erik still nag at each other

I don’t know how I got some stupid idea to grow up so much and go so far. This is not even crack, this is just absurd concepts. If I wrote it, I’d actually write it in the most serious way I could.

(Btw the two new ladies have names and well defined backstories, even if a bit cliche. I don’t even know if this is a parody or not.)

[stagesofabreakup]

Stages of a Breakup: Week 50

1. Uber home from Sam’s house for 8 dollars

2. Get a gay black man named Dwayne who you bond with over Will Downing who tells you about the old Mardi Gras traditions he had growing up in the Tremé

3. It’s Lundi Gras!

4. Unpack the 2 containers of meatballs and red sauce and polenta that have leaked/exploded

5. Eat a pastry that was loose in there

6. It’s still good

7. Successfully connect to wifi on not 1 but 2 devices with no help!!!!

8. Try to make plans for today/tonight but everyone is asleep

9. Start the movie “Jack,” a 1996 Robin Williams movie also with Diane Lane where he is born 10?

10. Everyone responds to your texts at once

11. Quick take a shower/get dressed

12. Uber to Molly’s to go to Red Beans (parade)

13. She is still getting ready

14. Wait there

15. Try on a blonde wig and 2 turbans

16. These are not your looks

17. Your friend Mary-Devon meets you guys

18. Try to catch the parade

19. Catch it!

20. Wait in line for a bathroom

21. Run into some people

22. Eat some 7$ gumbo Molly gets

23. Get a free piece of chicken

24. Run into your friend Claire!!!

25. Hang out

26. Get too high

27. Think you lost Molly for an hour when really she’s only been on the phone 13 minutes

28. Go back to Kate’s house with Molly

29. She and Kate craft

30. You want to craft but none of your stuff is here

31. Make a weird headband/headpiece out of scraps they both have

32. It’s pretty bad

33. Watch 3 episodes of America’s Next Top Model and drink a lot of vodka with Triple Sec and grapefruit juice

34. You guys Uber Eats 60 dollars worth of sushi that still isn’t enough

35. Eat

36. Decide to go to this Krewe de Selena dance party at Allways Lounge

37. Rally

38. Kate and Molly get dressed

39. You stay as you are

40. Uber there

41. Go to the dance party

42. The bar is cash only

43. And the ATM is broken

44. Go to Kajun’s

45. Get drinks and money

46. Hang for a while

47. Run into a girl you have complicated feelings about

48. She touches you too aggressively which always happens

49. See this couple you met 4 years ago when he moved her down and they broke up but now they’re back together and he moved here to be with her

50. Leave

51. Run into Rachel and her bff Hallie who is visiting from Portland

52. Go back to Kajun’s because they need $ as well

53. Get a double whiskey sour

54. Hang

55. Go back

56. The performances have started

57. See a 17 year old rapper

58. You know that because all of his songs mention that he is 17 and still in school

59. He is amazing (Maja?)

60. The next performance is some amazing men twerking and one of the best dancers you have ever seen in your whole life

61. Somehow without realizing it you have moved from the back to the second row and are dancinggg

62. See your friend Mariama!!!!!!!!!!

63. You love her

64. It’s so nice to see people you know and love!

65. Leave at 2:00am

66. Take an Uber that’s TWENTY-SEVEN DOLLARS because surge pricing for Mardi gras

67. This is usually like an 11 dollar ride for context/rage

68. Your Uber driver is an adult man named Kevin who tells you he isn’t driving Uber for the money (which apparently he “doesn’t need”) but to meet a girlfriend

69. You stop talking to him but are enraged at how cavalier/misogynistic he is being, and how it clearly doesn’t even occur to him how that’s a terrifying this to say to a woman he’s alone with, driving, at night, to her fucking house

70. Angry tweet about it

71. Say nothing

72. Get home

73. Take a shower and try to wash all your makeup off, unsuccessfully

74. Sleep for 4 hours

75. MARDI GRAS!!!!!!

76. Your alarm goes off to meet Molly at Kate’s to go with her but you don’t want to do that

77. Hang out with Erica who’s awake

78. Eat meatballs & polenta

79. Talk

80. It’s so nice you haven’t gotten to hang out with her that much and it’s really nice to catch up

81. Do your makeup together

82. Drink champagne

83. A guy gets back to you about a potential room in NY for March and you arrange to get in touch when you get back after you explain that it’s Mardi Gras and you’re going to be drunk very soon

84. She has so much good glitter

85. Ride with her and Joe

86. Get a 6 pack at a corner store

87. Walk to Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shoppe (oldest running bar in the continental US)

88. Get a “purple drink” that’s deceivingly strong

89. Walk to meet people

90. See so many costumes

91. Drink

92. See Erica’s drunk friend and her kids one of whom is a sleeping baby, the other of whom is miserable and 3 today

93. Bounce back and forth between R Bar & Mimi’s areas

94. Go to Grace’s house with Molly & Sam

95. Watch some of Sam’s porn’s

96. They are good

97. Drink more

98. Eat a sandwich

99. Mardi Gras!

100. Run into more people

101. Take pictures

102. Eat king cake

103. More people

104. Use the bathroom at your friend Lindsey’s house

105. Watch and cry to the video for Ke$ha’s “Praying”

106. Whiskey

107. Walk more

108. So much bouncing around all over

109. You’re trying to avoid your ex-boyfriend and his gf because they are out together

110. Go to Granpre’s (bar) to meet people

111. Get drinks

112. Take a boomerang of some strangers pretending to take a shot

113. Walk into the Quarter again

114. Feel angry because your friends did drugs and are being by themselves and you miss them and feel outside and it’s frustrating

115. Frustrated Cry to Molly

116. Find Rachel

117. Sad Cry to her

118. Feel heard

119. Decide to go to Lost Love Lounge by yourself because comics/friends will be there even though your ex-bf might be there

120. Go

121. See people

122. Not him

123. He’s not there

124. A guy cries to you that he didn’t give you enough credit for the things you were right about when you were here and your leaving has left a hole and people “needed you”

125. Which is very nice

126. Uber back with Geoff & MD

127. Hang for a little while

128. Get the key to their house, where moving to tomorrow

129. MD gets you an Uber since your phone keeps closing out of all its’ apps which is fun and not terrible or frustrating at all

130. Shower

131. Makeup remover

132. Realize how sunburned you are from an entire day spent walking outside in the sun

133. Could be worse

134. Try to watch Jack more

135. Are too tired

136. Sleep

137. Wake up at 8:42am

138. Erica is awake!!!

139. Lie on the couch with her

140. Watch This Is the End

141. Get Chinese food

142. Think about getting vegetables, don’t

143. It’s Valentine’s Day!

144. Watch a documentary about a rich British man who murderd his girlfriend then his mom tried to cover it up for him

145. Watch Some Like It Hot

146. Wish for aloe

147. Check your ex-boyfriend’s new gf’s social media

148. Huge mistake

149. You dumb idiot

150. Block her on Instagram

151. And facebook

152. Talk to Erica

153. Realize through her wisdom you can’t do this to yourself

154. Block him on Facebook

155. Feel good and in control

156. It’s ok however long it’s taking you to process this and you shouldn’t judge yourself for

157. Have Erica get you an Uber

158. Do makeup and pack in 16 minutes

159. Get to Mary-Devon and Geoff’s house

160. Drop off your things

161. Go to Carrollton Station for the mic

162. See people

163. It’s nice

164. Your ex-bf comes

165. His gf isn’t there

166. Glad to see they’re spending their first Valentine’s Day evening apart

167. She’s probably working and they’ll have sex later

168. You can’t check anything now

169. Which is good

170. Go up pretty early

171. Buy a million drinks

172. Your tab is 36 dollars in a place where drinks are 2 dollars

173. Get a little drunk

174. Smoke some weed

175. Ignore your ex-bf & don’t say one word to him

176. Watch his set where he talks about dating a “Catholic woman”

177. It’s gross to you

178. He looks good though

179. But who cares!!!!!!!!

180. Eat 2 hot dogs at the bar

181. Leave

182. Come home with Geoff & MD

183. Eat a chicken taco

184. Put your leftovers in the refrigerator you forgot to earlier

185. Fall asleep while sitting up

186. Walk to the guest bedroom

187. Spend Valentine’s Day sleeping on the bed you had sex with your ex-boyfriend on the last night (and morning!) you were in New Orleans

188. Seems tragically & poetically right

189. It’s ok though

190. Lol it also has the sleeping bag on it that was your ex-bf’s dog bed at your old house

191. You never got to see him (the dog) and now you leave in 2 days and you probably won’t

192. He is a sweet baby angel and you hope you will see him another time

193. Wake up at 5:15am for some reason

194. Some of your eyeliner has migrated to different places

195. Stay on your phone for 2 hours

196. Go back to sleep?

197. Try to text people to go to lunch with you at The Turkey and the Wolf

198. Everyone has a job

199. Mary-Devon comes home!!!

200. She has time and wants to go to lunch with you!!!!

201. Smoke weed

202. Their slogan is “Get high and come by” so really you’re just following orders

203. Drive there

204. It’s 19 minutes away

205. You’re high

206. Order the most beautiful food of:

207. Fried bologna sandwich

208. Fried pot pie (Like a savory turnover)

209. Roasted garlic eggplant dip with dill & cucumbers & roti

210. A drink with tequila, spice & almond milk called

“Nothing Goes According to Plan”

211. Mary-Devon gets a different equally beautiful drink called “My Mom Blacks Out Better Than Yours” which is a great name

212. Wait for what felt like a million years for the food to come

213. IT COMES

214. It’s perfect

215. The fried pot pie thing is one of the best most perfect things you have ever eaten

216. Go home

217. Listen to some of Under the Blacklight, this breakup album by Rilo Kiley you listened to a lot abroad before you were ever in a relationship

218. It has a different meaning to you now!!!!!

219. You’re excited to rediscover that

220. Remember that a long time ago your ex-boyfriend tweeted how wonderful it was falling out of love and your (you thought) mutual friend sent him a link to one of these songs

221. Annoyed that even this can’t be all the way free of him

222. Oh well, it will be one day

223. Still high

224. Take some leftovers even though you could have just pushed through and ate it but then you would have been uncomfortably full and you’re proud of yourself you didn’t

225. Get home

226. Lie down and watch The Office with Fred the cat

227. Take a shower without conditioner

228. Put aloe on!

229. Watch The Office for many hours

230. Eat your fried bologna leftovers

231. Think about getting ready for this mic before the show

232. Ubering everywhere costs so much money

233. Order an Uber on your laptop because your phone is a piece of shit

234. Get there

235. Go up

236. Do well

237. Meet a comic who’s on the next show you’re on

238. Hitch a ride with him

239. Get to Sidney’s

240. Mary-Devon told you sometimes there is a man who sells pulled pork in waffle cones outside the show

241. Look for him

242. He is not there

243. Lots of people you know are there!!

244. Hang

245. Get your clothes for Mardi Gras from your friend Jade lolol

246. Do your set

247. It’s very fun

248. You miss being able to do comedy for longer than 2 minutes

249. Eat free strawberry ice cream

250. Get 25 dollars!!!

251. Convince Geoff (who’s driving you back to his house) to go to Hank’s

252. Spend TWELVE DOLLARS on fried food

253. Which doesn’t sound insane but fried fish is 2 pieces for 1.50, so it is

254. Eat some chicken strips and a corn dog with your friends

255. Go home

256. You’re drunk

257. Look at Geoff’s senior yearbook and see pictures of him and everyone’s quotes

258. Find your ex-boyfriend’s old roommate

259. Want to send the picture to your ex-boyfriend because it’s truly a hilarious gem

260. But you don’t !!!!

261. Progress bitch

262. Watch some of The Office

263. Pass out

264. Wake up like 5 different times because you can hear MD’s alarm for work

265. Go back to sleep

266. Sort of have a group text with your friends Molly & Gabe you keep falling asleep during

267. Wake up when your friend Wyshonda calls you

268. She’s near and can come get you to hang out!

269. Quick go to check in/print your boarding pass

270. Find out your flight is at 7:45pm not 9:00pm like you thought?

271. Call Rachel see if she can still take you to the airport

272. She can

273. Get dressed

274. Wyshonda comes

275. Get sushi from the grocery store

276. And so many free samples

277. Think about getting a king cake to take back, decide against it

278. Go park and eat in her car which reminds you of high school

279. She tells you all about her trip to Cuba which sounds amazing

280. Catch up in general

281. She drives you to this cool abandoned house that is covered in graffiti

282. She takes some pictures of you! (She is a photographer)

283. You look at them and don’t like your body but accept that that’s ok

284. Hang out for a while longer

285. She drops you back home

286. Think about packing

287. Think about drinking

288. Watch The Office

289. Take a shower

290. Eat cold fried fish and chicken and one meat pie

291. Finally start doing stuff

292. Ask MD if she wants the white wine you have left in a baby bottle, then drink it yourself when she asks, “Why don’t you just drink it now?”

293. Pack everything

294. MD takes you to Rachel’s

295. You guys listen to songs with the word “blood” in the title for some reason

296. Hug her and say goodbye

297. Rachel takes you to the airport

298. You guys talk for a little bit at the terminal, it’s good and you love her

299. Go to your plane

300. Look for daiquiris

301. Text your friend Laura who flies for a living if they’re anywhere near

302. They don’t sell them at this terminal

303. They do have a smoothie king though

304. Get one (Berry Punch)

305. Get two Bacardi white rum’s on the plane

306. You made your own!!!!

307. The plane is half empty so you get to go from being cramped in a middle seat to having your own whole row

308. One of the flight attendants is hot

309. Not hot enough to make you sign up for a credit card though

310. Write in your journal

311. Masturbate

312. Yes on the plane

313. No one’s there it’s fine

314. Try to sleep

315. The plane is landing

316. You land in Newark, NJ even though you live in Brooklyn, NY because it is cheaper

317. Take a bus

318. Meet a Norwegian woman and her daughter

319. Help them get where they’re going

320. She gives you a bar of Norwegian chocolate

321. You give her glass beads Mardi Gras beads

322. But then you feel terrible because you tell them to get off one stop too late ☹ ☹ but they’ll figure it out

323. But you still feel terrible

324. Take the train

325. See a woman that you can’t tell if she’s being harassed or not

326. Go up and ask her if she’s alright

327. She sort of is blank

328. Ask if she knows him and wants to talk to him

329. She says no

330. He starts yelling at you, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH A BLACK MAN TALKING TO A BEAUTIFUL BLACK WOMAN?”

331. He is kind of slurring his words a little and it makes you uneasy

332. Your train comes

333. You both get on the train, you get in a different car than her in case he follows you

334. He does

335. He keeps yelling at you

336. You close your eyes and do your best to ignore him

337. It goes on

338. Change cars at the next stop

339. Luckily he doesn’t follow

340. Take the train forever

341. Finally get home

342. You have three exciting pieces of mail

343. A save the date for a wedding you’re not sure you’ll go to that’s in a literal castle

344. A nice note from your mom

345. Your moviepass card!!!!!

346. Check to see when you have work tomorrow

347. Not til 3:00pm baby!!!!!

348. Feel good in this place

349. And happy to be here

350. Know for the first time that this is your home now

351. Check your messages

352. Your friend Wyshonda sent you three pictures!

353. They are phenom & you love them

354. Decide to post tomorrow

355. Wake up an hour before your alarm

356. Think about sleeping more or doing something productive

357. Waste the hour scrolling through your phone

358. Post the pictures Wyshonda took

359. Message 2 people about seeing rooms for March

360. Eat some old vegetables, chocolate & granola for breakfast

361. Waste time

362. Wait for a train for 20 minutes because you had to buy a new Metrocard

363. Only get to work out for 30 minutes

364. It’s a good 30 min though

365. Work

366. You’re a “floater”

367. Which kind of sucks

368. But there’s free pizza

369. Have 2 pieces

370. Make 93 dollars

371. Solve a problem

372. NEW free pizza!

373. Have 3 pieces

374. Walk home in SLUSH because it SNOWED

375. Yesterday you were wearing a sundress in New Orleans and now you’re mad you don’t have snowboots

376. Feel the most tired

377. Home

378. Facebook

379. Not enough sleep

380. Wake up to go to the gym

381. Stop in a Modell’s Sporting Goods to see if they have sneakers because you DESPERATELY need some new ones

382. They have a smallish selection and you don’t really love any of them

383. Convince yourself to get cool thin sneakers because you are momentarily swayed by the world

384. Spend 59.84 bc you signed up for a rewards card to get 10% off

385. Go to the gym

386. Work out in them

387. THEY FEEL TERRIBLE AND YOUR FEET STILL HURT MAYBE MORE THAN BEFORE AND YOU HATE THEM YOU JUST WANT CHUNKY LAME SEARS SNEAKERS BUT YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO FIND SUBURBAN STORES IN NEW YORK

388. Text your friends Molly and Gabe

389. They say return them

390. Look up DSW, see that there’s one very close to you

391. Go back to the store not even an hour later

392. Return them

393. The salespeople are kind

394. Train to work

395. There was a fire on the track so there are delayssssssss

396. Wait for so long and get stressed about being late to work

397. Read more of your book “Bad Haircut” by Tom Perrotta

398. It’s good writing but the perspective isn’t something you can all the way latch onto

399. You’re late to work

400. You have many groups

401. Lose your voice very badly

402. Drink 3-4 cups of Sleepytime tea at work because it’s the only kind of tea they have left

403. Make 208 dollars in tips!!!!!!

404. Bond with your coworkers, they are mostly really cool

405. Think about making out with one of them

406. Home

407. Watch Eddie Izzard’s Dress to Kill special that you first watched at a friend’s house when you were in 5th grade

408. It’s SO good

409. He is a genius and so funny and this special is ridiculously good

410. Eat 2 pieces of Papa John’s pizza and an entire sleeve (except for like 6) of Club crackers

411. Watch Fergie sing the Jazz National Anthem at the NBA All Stars game

412. It’s breathtakingly terrible in a way only art can be

413. Floss

414. You’re seeing a room tomorrow that you really hope works out!!!!

415. And you hope you have your voice back by then otherwise it’ll be weird!!!

416. Drink water

417. Try to sleep

418. Eventually succeed