writingmccord

[writingmccord]

"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to stand me up," Henry says from the couch, moving to stand to his feet in the lobby and walking over to meet her.

She raises a brow, "I wasn't planning on it," she murmurs, and she's not even sure he heard her while he's pushing the revolving door for her, getting it started for her to walk through.

She nods curtly in appreciation, quietly walking through the door and out onto the sidewalk into the cooler evening. Looking over at him standing beside her now, he's eyeing the streets for a cab, "You look nice, by the way," he says, his voice cracking when he adds that last part just enough for him to have to clear his throat.

She blinks at him twice, clutching onto her purse hanging from her shoulder and feeling her cheeks redden. She looks away just as he's turning to look at her again, since she's been so quiet, "There's one," she says, "Taxi!" She raises her hand up and walks out in a rush toward the curb, and it pulls over.

As she's reaching for the door, he grabs it first, opening it and letting her inside. She swallows thick and scoots across the backseat, telling the driver where they need to go as Henry is shutting the door. She glances over at him once as they drive off, and then she turns away.

The ride is mostly silent, partially because the driver is blasting music through the car, and partially because Elizabeth barely looks at Henry the entire ride. Instead, she has her gaze fixed out her window, wondering why she didn't wear just a little more makeup tonight. But apparently, she "looks nice," so she shouldn't be worrying about it anyway.

When the cabbie tells them they're at their destination, Henry pays the guy before she can even get to her wallet, and they're out of the car right after. "This looks like a nice little place," he says, and she watches him as he looks at the restaurant's door.

Quaint, is what she'd call it. "Isabelle suggested it," she says, "I have no idea how good it is, but apparently she's eaten here before. She should know good French food," she says and laughs dryly, "She was stationed at the embassy there."

He nods with a little sideways grin as she walks past him and gets inside before he can open the door for her this time, and she tells the hostess she has reservations for two.

(continue above!!)

[writingmccord]

Téa Leoni, Spanglish interview (2004)

(Spanglish was released 20 years ago…crazy!)

[writingmccord]

*writes a sentence or two after writing nothing for days*

[writingmccord]

"Are you sure about this?" Henry had asked, and Elizabeth had never been more unsure about anything, but she shrugged at him.

"She wants to do it," she'd answered him in the quiet, the early sunlight shining through their bedroom window and onto the couple. "So, I guess I should let her, right? Maybe this'll help you and your dad talk again," she'd said.

And now that the moment was upon her, she was much more panicked than she had been on that lazy Sunday morning when Henry hadn't had to go into work.

Now that school had been out for two weeks, Elizabeth had been picking up a few shifts here and there at the diner, too, helping Tina on the busier dinner nights especially. Henry was still helping Dan in the kitchen almost every day, and he tried to take every shift he could possibly take while still working around his ROTC workouts. She made decent money in tips, most seeming to feel bad for her whenever they would see her waddling up to the table and giving them a smile before she took their drink orders. Together, they worked hard on saving up some money for the baby and some furniture for their house while still scraping together the money for their rent.

Elaine had been wanting to give her a baby shower for a few weeks now, and Elizabeth had ultimately agreed after the semester had ended and she'd gained her senses once more. She'd finally had some time to process everything that had happened to her with losing Jess, and though she was far from perfect when it came to grief, she could at least see a little bit of light at the end of her own tunnel whenever she would think of Jess and how lucky she was to have known her.

The ache in her heart hadn't gone away, but it had lightened enough to where she could catch her breath.

[writingmccord]

[New story!!!!]

The elevator felt like it slid down the shaft slower than last night, taking forever to make it down to the ground floor from her twelfth-floor hotel room. When the doors finally open, she steps out, her heel touching the hard tiles first and making a clunking noise.

She mindlessly fumbles with the button on her blazer, checking that it's closed as she makes her way to the revolving door and out into the concrete jungle of New York City. "Taxi!" She yells, sticking her hand up as a yellow cab goes by.

Her hand is in her pocket, wrapped around her index cards that she's using to present on at the Military-Intelligence Cooperation Summit, or "MICS" as everyone has been calling it. Isabelle was supposed to come with her, but now her twelfth-floor room is housing only herself because Isabelle had come down with the flu before their plane left out of Washington Dulles.

Finally, she gets a cab to stop. "Columbia University, please," she says to the driver from the backseat, and he nods, speeding off from the curb as she looks back at her hotel doors one more time and takes a deep breath.

(continue with link above:))

[writingmccord]

off topic but when did everything stop being fun and colorful? McDonald’s is boring and gray and it used to be a literal playhouse with Ronald McDonald and the Hamburgler and video games inside. Charmin commercials? remember the jingle? and the dancing bears shimmying with unbreakable toilet paper? genius marketing. we don’t have that anymore?

[writingmccord]

saw this on Pinterest tonight and wanted to share :’)

[writingmccord]

[2014 – McCord Residence]

She stares at the ceiling, the streetlight glow through the window starting to dim as the sunlight starts to replace it. Henry's snoring is quieter, she knows it's around the time his alarm is about to go off. When it sounds, she turns her head and watches him turn the alarm clock off, unaware that she's watching at all.

When he moves, the blanket slides off her chest just slightly, and she fixes her nightgown so that it's covering more of her skin again. He looks over at her through the darkness, "You're awake," he murmurs, and then the concern comes onto his face and he follows up: "Did I wake you?"

She shakes her head, "No," she whispers, choosing to stare at the ceiling once more, like she's done most of the night, "I haven't been able to sleep." She says, sighing before sitting up slowly and stretching, her spaghetti strap sliding off her shoulder.

He rubs her arm and picks up the strap, gently setting it back on top of her shoulder as he leans in and kisses her skin. "You should've woken me." He whispers.

"Why?" She asks, "So the both of us wouldn't be able to sleep?" She says quietly, looking at him now with a sympathetic expression before shaking her head, "No, you tried." She says, thinking back to last night and how she should have been too worn out to stay awake so much of the night.

He did his best—it certainly was no lack of trying on his part. Even sex couldn't get her mind off things enough last night.

He's standing up now and walking to the bathroom, "Penny for your thoughts then?" He asks as his back is turned toward her, walking further away.

She sighs a little and tucks her knees up around her body, her pesky strap falling back down as she looks out the window at the purple glow of the sunrise, "Think it'll be so bad if the public finds out about Stevie?" She asks, "About us, I mean, and then about Stevie. How it all happened." Her words are barely even making sense to herself.

(continue reading with link above:))

[writingmccord]

how I feel about writing stuff other than ffn

HOW DO PEOPLE WRITE CONSISTENTLY. HOW. I SPENT 3 HOURS STARING AT A SINGLE SENTENCE YESTERDAY. meanwhile someone out there has written a trilogy this year and i am one (1) typo away from fighting god. send help.

[writingmccord]

I think I may have a new chapter tonight :’)

[writingmccord]

If you’re having writers block…READ!!!! CONSUME MEDIA

I feel like I don’t hear that given enough as advice for writers block..just read? Watch tv? Movies? Find inspiration in media.

Writers block is a lack of inspiration, so go collect more.

[writingmccord]

[writingmccord]

We’re finally about to have a trailer!

[writingmccord]

this has been the longest I’ve gone without writing in such a long time…the crud got me guys

[writingmccord]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Meet Cutes NYC (@meetcutesnyc)

For a quick second I thought this was Téa, but I also thought this was just plain adorable, and then I also also thought that Meet Cute NYC should get ahold of Téa and Tim one day😌

[writingmccord]

Though the ring around her finger made her feel lighter, the semester barreled on whether Elizabeth was ready or not, and the exhaustion returned once more as she started her classes.

Jess was in one of her hardest semesters of nursing school, and they found themselves studying together in the library more often than not all the way until midterms. As a good friend should, Jess would nudge Elizabeth, and she would wake up with her head on the stack of books she had next to her. She'd mumble a sleepy "thank you," and they'd continue their work in silence until the next time Jess had to nudge Elizabeth. Each time, Jess would have more anatomy terms and visualizations on the chalkboard than when Elizabeth last remembered.

She'd not gained much weight over the past weeks, but she was starting to feel the ache in her knees and back now as she finally acquired a larger appetite. She kept forgetting meals, and Henry would stick granola bars in her backpack on her way out the door. She'd always find them resting on top of her books in her bag, and that way she couldn't forget to eat something. But now, she's always hungry, and she feels like she can't ever get quite enough to eat. Forgetting was never a problem.

And of course, he finally was able to join Dr. and Mrs. Jason for dinner, and they made it a bi-weekly, Friday event because, well, they all liked each other very much. Elizabeth quickly found out there was more to Julia than just her wonderful cooking and beautiful decorative style—and also beauty in general—and that she was actually incredibly well-read. She admired Julia for her grace and poise, and Henry admired her for her copy of Augustine's Confessions laying on the stand in the living room when they were all sitting in there one night.

(continue with link above!!)

[writingmccord]

She halfway expected him all night, the entire time she and Jess were baking cookies in Elizabeth's house and playing the radio too loud, yet not loud enough since they had no neighbors to bother. At some point during the evening while listening to Jess chatter on about some guy she's talking to, not yet dating, she realizes that this is probably the last time she'll do this.

The last time she'll feel that carefree, though the heaviness of the fight with Henry still weighed on her all night, and the last time she'll do this without a child.

They stayed up until two in the morning when Elizabeth finally crashed on the couch. That bright, sunny, and cold Saturday morning, she woke up to find Jess asleep in her bed, and her neck had a new stiffness in it that she hadn't ever felt.

All day, Jess distracted her from her own thoughts as much as she possibly could've. She took her to get her nails done, "It's my treat—an early birthday present since I don't know if I'll get to do it then," she'd said. They went to see a movie, which Jess "accidentally" paid for her ticket. And then they went shopping, and Jess bought a stuffed animal that Elizabeth kept eyeing, for some reason feeling particularly drawn to it. "Consider it my first auntie gift," Jess said to Elizabeth after her protests, leaning against the counter with her credit card in hand.

By Sunday, Elizabeth was left alone with her thoughts once more—Jess had a sorority event Saturday night and knew she wouldn't be well enough by Sunday morning to come back. She got up and scrambled some eggs for herself, the only item that was in the fridge since Henry loves to make eggs every morning.

As she stares at the eggs now, she just thinks of him.

And she cries.