writingmccord

[writingmccord]

Two for one. I have a feeling we’ll  I’ll be watching this over and over again.

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I love how I always prooofread my stories before I submit them but there’s ALWAYS at least one thing I goof up. Sometimes it’s typos and sometimes it’s scenes/settings gone wrong…😂

[writingmccord]

Elizabeth | Before Extraction – Eight Years

Elizabeth sat on the couch, nursing a bottle of water that she’d grabbed after coming in from a run. It was way too hot to be running today—she knew better. But she’d needed to get her mind to clear, something to burn the fog away. One whole year without her parents—it didn’t seem possible that today had marked the day of the wreck, the day that took her parents.

The overwhelming smell of furniture polish had made her mad as soon as she walked in. She was grateful for her aunt and uncle taking her and Will in, but it always smelled like this. Her Aunt Shelly was constantly polishing her antique furniture that also had its own smells aside from the lemon. And in her grief, today, she was mad.

While she took another chug, she heard her water bottle crack over the sound of voices down the hall.

“I told you we shouldn’t have opened it.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” she heard her Uncle Paul say.

She furrowed her brows and stood up quietly, tip toeing to the corner of the hall where she couldn’t be seen.

“Then we should have burned it.”

Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around the corner of the drywall. Something about the way her aunt’s voice wavered—not in grief—made her ears perk up.

(click here to keep reading!)

[writingmccord]

Watching The Diplomat (or trying to again). Not…a fan? I just miss MSec.

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me after the hell of a week I’ve had

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happy birthday to the lady herself 🎈

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#same

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6.07 Accountability - “You have to risk everything to gain everything.”

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Elizabeth had just sat back down at the dining room table while Henry finished the dishes behind her, putting just a few more glasses away. She had protested at first, telling him she'd help, but he insisted she get her grading finished. "You have a few papers left, right?" he asked, and she nodded. He shooed her away then and she got the papers from her briefcase before sitting with them.

He walked over as she was about halfway through her first paper, one of two, and she looked up at him,

"What's this?" she asked, extending her arms with her pen wedged between her fingers, reaching out for the cup.

Henry shook his head, "It's hot," he said, setting the cup of piping hot tea down on the table and gently scooting it toward her. A yelp came from the living room, "Kids!" Henry's voice boomed, and it got silent again. Elizabeth had only heard parts of their earlier bickering while Stevie had told Henry she was going up to her room to finish her math homework.

"Are they still fighting over the TV?" she asked, wrapping her hand carefully around the mug. The cold February afternoon felt like it had seeped into her bones all day, and she never had quite gotten warm since being home. Walking on campus in the whipping wind sometimes got the best of her.

He sighed as he sat down, dragging over his own stack of papers. "Yes," he said, his voice sounding tired. "I told them that they needed to be in bed in forty minutes anyway," he said, and Elizabeth glanced over at the clock on the wall, "So I don't even know why they're arguing over a movie when they're not going to be able to finish any movie in forty minutes."

Elizabeth snorted and took a cautious sip of her tea, letting the steam rise up and warm her nose.

"Especially at this rate," she murmured, a smirk rising to her lips as she looked at Henry over the other side of her mug, "They're not even going to be able to finish an episode of a show if they don't shut up and pick something."

(continue reading this adorable little story with the link above:))

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Fictional role model: Elizabeth McCord. 

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being a humanities major who’s friends with stem majors is so funny because you’ll ask your friends what they’re doing today and they’re like “UGH it’s so stressful i have to stabilize the reactor core for my nuclear power midterm and then i have to build the supercomputer from i have no mouth yet i must scream for my electrical engineering homework :/ what about you” and you’re like “oh well i have to read a fun little book and write an essay about gender.” and they still think you have it worse

[writingmccord]

Téa Leoni and Holland Taylor on the set of The Naked Truth, March 1998

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a constant problem

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[writingmccord]

Back with yet another photo from Pinterest and asking where/when it’s from. You all always work such great magic!

[writingmccord]

Henry | Post-Extraction – 189 Hours

They only stopped for gas, a map, two drinks, and two gas station donuts, and then they were back on the road. Before they arrived at the gas station, their trip was almost serene—the sun was still down below the horizon, not yet tinting the sky with its blueish haze of the early morning dawn—as if they hadn't had three dead bodies in their safe house less than an hour ago.

Their trip was silent up until he turned left off the highway: "I'll go in and grab us something," he'd said, sliding off the front seat carefully, "Anything particular?" he'd asked, turning around and grabbing the wallet Rawlins had given him, but she just shook her head. His "last night wasn't a mistake" speech still hung heavy in the air even though fifty-three miles had already passed between them and the last sentence he told her: "I refuse to let either of us get hurt."

After distributing the storebought goods, he murmured, "I just realized we never ate anything yesterday," as he was pulling back out onto the main highway, glancing over at her before fumbling with his donut. He looked in the rearview, too, to make sure they weren't being followed—nothing had raised a red flag so far, so he wasn't terribly worried. He figured Grayson hadn't found out that Freeman was dead yet, along with the other two guys that Conrad and Rawlins were having to "clean up" back at the cabin.

Once they figured it out—that meant he'll have really pissed off the U.S. Government.

She reached over without saying anything and took it from his hand like an impatient mother watching a toddler fumble around, untying the bag that he'd put it in and wrapping the bag around the base of the donut before handing it back to him. He'd glanced at her a couple times to see what she was doing, why she'd taken his donut from his hand so quickly, and then when he realized, he just smiled and let it happen as he turned his eyes toward the road. "Thanks," he mumbled, taking it back as she hovered it over the console.

She nodded and licked her thumb first, then her index finger, and rubbed her hands together. "I don't think I even thought about food once yesterday," she admitted, unwrapping her own donut now. "But I am hungry today," she said.

He looked down at his donut in the dark, then back up at the road as he chewed. Because we worked up an appetite, he thought, then remembered it all had gotten interrupted. Well, not all…he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that they'd slept together not just once, but three times last night. He was trying to not let himself fall into the same pit Elizabeth had fallen into this morning already, the one that said he was wrong, that said he should've been the Marine above all else.

But how was he to tell her no when she asked for him, for Henry? Maybe he didn't want to be a Marine so badly after all. Maybe just Henry was a lot nicer in this situation.

He dropped a crumb on his pants, and he brushed it into the floor, "I'll have to get it detailed before I bring it back to Conrad," he said, a joking tone in his voice as he tried to lighten both of their moods. As if detailing this car was the top priority for any of them. "He may lose his mind if I bring it back with crumbs."

She snorted as she was chewing, shaking her head and looking over at him as he focused on the road. He wanted to look over, wanted to see if she had a little smidge of chocolate on her lip that he could wipe off with his finger, but he also needed to keep his eyes on the road. It was getting more and more difficult to keep his focus off of her.

(continue with link above:))