writingmccord

[writingmccord]

Téa Leoni on a lost movie: “Indian Love Story” (it’s from 1991/1992)

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"Oh," Jess says, her voice mostly emotionless but tinged with confusion, "I thought you knew."

"No," Elizabeth breathes, annoyed that she would think such a thing. "Why would I know that?"

Jess shrugs, "Don't get snappy with me." She murmurs.

"I'm upset, okay?" Elizabeth snaps again.

"I know." Jess says calmly, folding her arms over her chest on her bed, "But it's not my fault and you're taking it out on me."

"You should've told me that it wasn't happening today." She says, "I was prepared—I was ready."

"Were you actually?"

The question throws Elizabeth, and she has to reach out for her desk, feeling a bit dizzy as the sudden pressure in her head makes it throb. She'd had a headache ever since leaving the clinic from throwing up, but now it makes her feel like the room is spinning around her.

Was she prepared? She'd told herself she was, that she was going to do this today and that she wasn't going to back out. She'd been prepared to take the rest of the day off and relax and prepared to come back with her career potential in tow once more. The thought of being rid of this worry intrigued her, but definitely didn't necessarily excite her.

Mostly, she knew she would feel a new layer of guilt because she hadn't told Henry about it at all.

"You say that you were prepared, but I don't think you are, Elizabeth." Jess says, and she looks up at her roommate, "I've watched my sorority sisters go through abortions and mentally it's so hard on them," she reminds. She'd told Elizabeth that before, though.

"But I haven't ever seen them be so conflicted about it upfront, and haven't ever seen them have to wonder about it so much because they loved the father. It wasn't really an issue for them in that matter." Jess says, shaking her head, "You—God, I just know you're going to regret it, Elizabeth. You are. I can see it in the way you talk about it."

"I'm not," Elizabeth counters, unable to come up with a better argument at this moment.

Jess sits up straighter, "You can look me in the eye and tell me you won't have any kind of guilt? No regret? Not even about not telling Henry? About not even giving him the opportunity to say his piece? I'm not saying that he should change your mind if it's something you really want. I'm not saying that at all. What I am saying is that you're so unsure about this for a reason and you're not listening to that reason in your head."

"How can I listen to that reason?" Elizabeth gets out, and she wants to add on to that, but can't.

(continue reading with the link above;))

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It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been obsessed with a story. I promise I’ll come back and finish Professors in the PS, but damn, I’m enjoying the hell out of writing The Fling😂

[writingmccord]

[2014 – McCord Residence]

The house is unusually quiet as she lays her briefcase down in the entryway, kicking her heels off and bending down to pick them up with a whispering groan. She carries them with her all the way up the stairs tiredly, her mind still stubbornly sticking on Matt's words from earlier: "mystery daughter."

She shimmies from her blazer once upstairs and tosses it over the foot of the bed before also tossing her shoes toward her closet—only one landing inside. She runs her hands through her hair and pulls it back, staring at Henry's nightstand blankly before blowing out a breath. Mystery daughter, she thinks, letting her hair go and walking to the bathroom. She flips the light switch on angrily, as if that's the most delicious thing they could dig up on me is something about my daughter. If they only knew the past I've had.

Elizabeth shakes her head slightly and grabs a hair tie, throwing her hair up into a ponytail before going back into the bedroom and undressing. She pulls on her sweatpants and a tee before catching herself in the mirror on the dresser. She thinks about the comment again—she's not necessarily shocked by it. It's politics, after all. Yet, today, she seems to be allowing it to gnaw at her for some reason. Maybe it's from the gloominess of the rest of the day, or maybe it's from how exhausted she is, but she just wishes they'd leave her family out of it all. She knew when she took on the job that they would try to pick her apart from every angle, and she just naively hoped that Henry and the kids, but at the very least the kids, would be able to be left out.

Her eyes drift from the mirror to the picture on the dresser—her and Henry's very first picture together. The faded colors in the photo make it look much older than just twenty-five years ago, and the way she and Henry both look like babies makes her realize how young they really were. Elizabeth's head is resting on Henry's shoulder and she's mid-smile. She remembers that Jess had made her laugh because she was saying something and embarrassing her like a good roommate should.

(continue with link above!!)

[writingmccord]

I learned how to make gifs but why’d no one tell me how hard and annoying it is??????

[writingmccord]

this is an out of character post for me, but what have you guys read recently that you loved? looking for book recs. I'm not much of a sci-fi gal, but here's some I've read recently that I enjoyed:

-a tree grows in brooklyn by betty smith

-the nightingale by kristin hannah (except it was so sad ugh)

-currently reading the third gilmore girl by kelly bishop

-loved emily henry's books

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It felt like she'd just gone to sleep when her alarm went off this morning, and she'd been dragging all day because of it. When she tallied it up while sitting through her poli sci lecture this morning, she determined she'd gotten about two hours of sleep because the last time she'd looked at the alarm clock, it was 4:58, and their alarm goes off at 7:00 on Fridays.

All day, she's tried to focus on her homework. Her international relations final paper is due next week, and she also has a test to be studying for in trigonometry. Yet, all she can seem to think about is Henry, and also Jessica's words to her last night.

"I'm scared that you're throwing something away before it ever even begins—before you ever even give it a chance."

But she'd decided lying in bed that she was going to give it a shot—she was going to go on a real date with Henry and find out more about this man that she can't seem to stop obsessing over now. She's going to learn his parents' names; she's going to learn his favorite color—the things you do typically on a first date, not the things they did the first time they met.

As she's getting dressed tonight alone in the dorm (Jess had a party she was going to tonight, but she'd told Elizabeth to call her afterward on the DKE phone—Elizabeth had decided she wasn't going to but she agreed anyway), she keeps mulling over one specific thought: Is this our first date or second?

(continue reading with link above!)

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On her stomach, laying on her bed, she stares at her homework as though through osmosis her brain will absorb it and she will pass all her classes. Magical, really.

Jessica walks through the door like a tornado, "I'm sorry I'm late," she's saying as she's throwing her bags down and ripping off her coat.

Elizabeth looks over at the alarm clock on the table and freezes, not realizing it was already two minutes past the time they said they were going to leave from the dorm. "I didn't even realize," she murmurs, pushing herself onto her knees and staring at her homework one last time before shutting the textbook and stacking her notebook on top. She eyes Jess who is still in a hurry, getting fixed up in the bathroom and then changing shoes in front of her bed.

She climbs off her own bed and looks in the mirror, fixing her a hair a little before putting on her coat. She didn't have to work the campus club fair for the debate team table tonight, but she was requested to be there for a photo of the whole team. Jessica wanted to go scout for a club that had hot men, but Elizabeth knew she was going mostly because she had asked Jess to go with.

Jessica is doing her final touches on her hair in their mirror before she puts her coat back on and makes her way to the door where Elizabeth is waiting now. She opens it for Jess and follows her out, locking it behind them. "You sure you still want to go?" Elizabeth asks.

(continue reading with link above!!)

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I’m happy Téa is coming back around to acting again🥲

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Sofia Caccimelio. Call...if you change your mind.

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[1988 – University of Virginia]

Alicia was one of the worst roommates Elizabeth could've been stuck with. When she'd toured UVA, they told her that they hand select roommates and match them according to their preferences and personality. The idea was thrilling—someone matched to her specifically? Maybe they could think over debates together or discuss the upcoming election even.

Instead, she was stuck with Alicia. A girl who had never been away from home, didn't know how to clean (Elizabeth presumes she didn't know how, she couldn't fathom how else a girl could be that dirty and be okay with it), she never put her laundry away and just slung it all over her bed, or worse, their floor that they shared. Alicia barely ever spoke to Elizabeth and if she did, it was a one-word answer whenever Elizabeth would try to converse. Something like:

"So, where are you from?"

"West Virginia."

"Oh," Elizabeth answered from her bed as she watched Alicia eat a sandwich with one hand. "Did you like it there?"

"No."

By Christmas, she'd given up on trying to be friends with Alicia. The dream of discussing the upcoming election—Bush and Dukakis—had been long thrown from the window of her fourth-floor dorm. However, she wasn't going to give up trying to live in a decent space.

(continue reading with link above!!)

[writingmccord]

[1987 – University of Virginia]

As a freshman, Elizabeth knew hardly anyone. There were girls who were going to UVA out of Houghton, but she didn't know them well, and they weren't really her type of people. She had considered rushing for a sorority like they all were doing, but she decided against it, knowing she wouldn't have the time.

Ultimately, the money it cost to rush made her decision final. She was putting herself through college and didn't have those extra funds. Her aunt and uncle helped all they could, but after putting her through Houghton and Will through an all-boys charter school, she knew that they were drained financially, and all of that wasn't even their burden to take on.

In one of the orientation sessions the week before classes started, a general orientation for the school, not her poli sci classes, she was tapped on the shoulder by a large man with blonde hair. "Do you have a pencil?" He asked, holding one up that was broken in two just under the halfway mark. He smiled sheepishly, "Mine broke in my backpack I guess."

She smiled back at him and told him she had a pencil he could borrow, but her hands shook as she dug through her bag.

Her last relationship ended with a mutual agreement—a mature mutual agreement at that. In April of their senior year at Houghton, she'd decided they needed to talk. When she informed Weston that she wanted to chat with him, he immediately knew and said, "But I think I know where this is going," and she looked at him nervously, waiting to see his reaction. "I'm leaving for Harvard in July and you're leaving for Virginia in August." With that, she nodded.

"Exactly," she replied, breathing out slowly when she realized that this would be a mutual breakup.

After all, there was really no spark between she and Weston. They'd dated since sophomore year and were on the debate team together. They took each other's virginity by the end of October that year, and ever since, they'd been in that relationship because it was convenient.

But now she's at UVA, and she, again, knows no one. Her freshman roommate seems like she's going to be difficult, and here's this man behind her who looks strong enough to pick her up in his arms with blonde hair to boot. Something about him made her shudder as she handed him the pencil, "Here you go," she said, smiling back at him as though she were the one asking for a favor.

He took it with a similar smile, then cleared his throat when she turned around, "Hey," he whispered, "What's your name?"

She made herself try to look confident as she turned around, holding her breath before she said, "Elizabeth," and then awkwardly stuck her hand out around her body, "Elizabeth Adams."

"Steve Jackson," he replied, taking her hand while suppressing a chuckle, giving it a proper little shake. "Nice to meet you, Elizabeth Adams."

(continue reading with link above!)

[writingmccord]

[2014 – State Department]

"By mystery," she pauses, squinting her eyes at Matt and throwing her head forward, "Do you mean born out of wedlock," she pauses a beat, flicking her eyebrows up, "Or sired by aliens?" She's amused by her own self, but she also is annoyed that she even has to entertain Matt's statement of calling Stephanie her "mystery daughter." Maybe she shouldn't feel so defensive because she knows, deep down, that this is only the beginning of picking her family apart—she's only been in office for months now. But, if it's already come to this, how much worse will it get?

"Well," Matt answers cautiously, "We need to rule out either of those speculations."

She swallows and waits a moment before replying, "Knock yourself out." She takes a deep breath then moves her gaze around the table, making eye contact with her staff members before glancing down at her papers.

"Can we talk about matters of national security now?" She asks, purposely skirting around Matt's comment. She'll get around to answering it more head-on later, but right now, she needs to wait and talk to Henry—to Stevie, too.

—

[1989 – University of Virginia]

"Thank you," she says to the mailroom worker before scurrying off, not even getting out the door before ripping the envelope open. She's been waiting for this reply for weeks now—ever since her interview in early September.

Yanking the paper out, she skims over "Dear Ms. Adams" and moves on to the juicier part. Her eyes stop on the word "unfortunately," and she has to stop walking. Someone bumps into the back of her arm and knocks her sideways just slightly as she stares at the paper, her eyes unable to move off that word.

Through blurred vision, she reads the rest, "Unfortunately you have not been selected for the internship at this time."

(continue with link above!!)

[writingmccord]

really struggling to pull myself out of this one

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Spring break had come up on Elizabeth quickly. The Friday before, she finally gave in and told the chair of her department, informing him that she wouldn't have to have time off. He simply wrote something down in his notebook and said, "Thank you for letting me know," and she left his office and met Henry where he was waiting for her outside to go home.

One of the cruelties about working at a university is getting a spring break that doesn't match with your kids' break. Theirs is next week, of course, so she and Henry still have early mornings and busy ones at that. Though they were technically off, they decided to go in to work Monday and Tuesday to finish the grading they needed to get done from midterms.

Elizabeth thought about just suggesting to Henry that they work from home, but she knew they would get nothing done at all.

So now she sits in her office, and everything feels tight. She's only gotten twenty-seven weeks of this out of the way, and she's dreading how much bigger she's going to get over the next few months. She looks over her calendar for the day, though, and the date strikes her. March 10th, she thinks, Exactly three more months, little one.

She lays her hand on her belly as she stares at the date a moment longer, her heartbeat quickening in her chest.

We don't have a crib.

We don't have anything.

I barely have even thought about anything we need.

We're running out of time.

She looks at the date again, and her eyes jump to the Wednesday following today.

And my birthday is coming up.

[writingmccord]

but it’s the fact that this kind of chemistry and physical touch wouldn’t be on any other tv show unless they were together

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