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#she's about to succeed in her hot lesbian summer
flowerflamestars · 8 months
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the rolling in the graves snippet
Nesta’s voice emerged from the closet, breathless with anger in a way that piqued Lucien’s every interest, entire focusing concern. “It has to be the silk taffeta?” Word spit like a curse, coming around the corner half in a bodice she was quite actively falling out of, Nesta froze at the sight of Lucien in the middle of white rug she hated. Stopped, one arm crossed over her chest, and like it didn’t break him clean in half, smiled. That quick quirk, her real smile, sharp and small. “Lucien.” In daylight, in domesticity, her sister rattling around downstairs, Nesta saying his name. Lucien slid forward, mindful of the intimacy it truly was, brushing his palm down her bare arm. “Nesta.” She made a face, a quick-change of amusement, scowling gorgeous at the pause before she pulled him close. An exhale, the slow sloping sun of late afternoon picking up a brighter, bloodier metric across her walls, pink and gold across Nesta’s bare skin. Even Lucien’s magic wanted. “Nesta,” Lucien said again, heedless of half filling his mouth with her hair, “What’s wrong?” Shoulders low and teeth sharp against his collarbone, Nesta nuzzled as close as skin and bone would allow, before she sighed. “Fucking temple before dinner. Feyre wants us to match.” “Like children,” Elain said, sunnily, from the doorway, unbothered by their closeness or the hiss Nesta let out, pure temper in the sound. “Mother had better taste.” “Mother was a tyrant,” Nesta heaved out, tipped back in Lucien’s arms but not away, hand bunched in his shirt more than a small wonder. She turned in place, wordlessly offering him her half-bared back, pink-blotched neck curved down. “Vanserra’s good with knots.” His first, desperate urge, was to kiss her nape. To follow Nesta down, heady on the sheer acknowledgement of one true thing. His second was to start lighting things on fire. Lucien could see where she’d tried to get it herself. Where the boning, structuring sheer panels around her waist, had dug in so deep as to leave marks. “Gifts,” Nesta sighed, poisonous. “From the High Lord.”
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maybeimamuppet · 3 years
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you happened
hey darlings!! happy wednesday!!!
let’s get right into it shall we?
tw for
discussion of canon events in mg (outing, etc)
discussion of canon events in the prom (homophobia, etc.)
this was requested by @spidy-nugget like forever ago so thank you for your patience and i hope you enjoy!
“Oh!” Cady says, interrupting herself in the middle of a sentence. “I just remembered! My cousin is coming to visit next week, do you guys want to meet her?”
“Emma?” Damian asks excitedly. Cady nods. “Yes! Is she bringing the-her… Broadway friends?”
“I dunno, she didn’t tell me,” Cady giggles. “But probably, she said they usually visit her at some point every summer.”
“I should probably be there to stop him from combusting if they do come,” Janis huffs. “But also, yes, I want to meet her too.”
“She’s an absolute icon,” Damian says happily. “God, her song. Still makes me cry.”
“You cried watching Finding Dory yesterday,” Janis retaliates.
“It’s a sad movie! Sometimes!” Damian defends. “Anyway, tell me all about Emma.”
“Okay,” Cady giggles again. “She’s a year older than us, and she’s my cousin on my mom’s side. Um… you know her whole… prom fiasco. I’ve only met her in person once when I was ten, for Rhys’ funeral. But we were pen pals when we were really little. And now we just text and stuff.”
“Cute,” Damian says. “And is her girlfriend coming?”
“Oh! Yeah,” Cady says around a mouthful of Janis’ milkshake. “Her name is Alyssa, she’s, like, super smart. Did every possible activity in high school, that kind of thing. But she’s been with Emma when we’ve Facetimed and stuff before and she’s super sweet.”
“Aww,” Damian coos. “I can’t wait!”
————-
Luckily for him, Damian doesn’t have to wait too long. Emma and Alyssa arrive the following week in Emma’s pickup. Damian has been pressed against the window all day, like a small child watching for the ice cream truck. He gasps dramatically when four people in matching sequined tracksuits also hop out of the backseat, grumbling about being cramped together for such a long trip.
Cady opens the door to let everyone in, and is quickly swamped by a crowd of people much taller than her. Janis pops up on her tippy toes to try and find her girlfriend to save her, but doesn’t succeed.
Everyone heads into the living room, and Janis laughs when she finds Cady being carried in like a sack of potatoes by one of the men that came with Emma.
“Emma, why didn’t you tell me your cousin was so adorable?” He demands. “Look at this, she’s so small.”
“Please put me down,” Cady squeaks. Janis heads over and reaches for her.
“Can I have my girlfriend back, please?”
“And she’s gay!” The man says happily, passing Cady over like she’s a small dog. Janis holds her close and smoothes her hair back to where it was.
“Bi, actually,” Cady grumbles.
“Well, aren’t you something. Oh, my name is Barry, by the way. As if you haven’t heard of me.”
“Barry, we talked about this,” Emma chides. “They haven’t. Except Damian.”
“And where is this Damian? I want to meet him,” one of the ladies says. “Oh, and my name is Dee Dee.”
Damian enters shyly and gives a little wave. Janis cackles, “Dude, you’re totally starstruck, look at you!”
“Uh-hi,” he stutters. “I’m Damian.”
“Aww!” The other lady says. “Look at your little cheeks, what a sweetheart! I’m Angie.”
Damian blushes violently as he’s cooed over by Angie. Barry hauls her off to get a good look at him.
“I like this,” he says. “It’s like a mini me.”
“Just don’t break him,” Emma pleads. “Damian, can I trust you to babysit for a while?”
That prompts a, ‘Hey!’ from all four adults, and an eager nod from Damian. “I can show them around town.”
“This is not a town, darling,” Dee Dee says gently. “But what is there to see?”
“We have… uh-“
“There’s an IHOP!” Cady chirps. “And the mall. That’s kind of it until you get to Chicago. Or the lake.”
“This is the most precious soul,” Barry says happily.
“Dame, we did it. I never thought I’d see the day we found someone gayer than you,” Janis laughs.
“Oh, I like this one too,” Barry says. “Funky little lesbian. She dresses like Emma but goth.”
“I do love the hair,” Emma agrees. “I’m dressed more like Cady today though.”
They both look down at their almost-matching flannels and jean shorts, then back at each other with a nod.
“Same boots though,” Janis cheers, lifting a foot. Emma laughs and nudges it with one of her own doc martens. “Nice.”
“Precious,” Angie says. “Okay, we’ll leave you gals alone now. Damian, show us the sights.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Damian says, leading the adults to the door.
“Yes, show us to the… hopping eyes,” Dee Dee says, sounding both bored and intrigued at the same time. Damian waves goodbye to Janis excitedly and closes the door after him.
“Well,” Emma chuckles. “Oh, I hope he’ll be okay.”
“I think he’ll be fine,” Alyssa soothes. “He’s in good company, and he’s a theatre kid, he gets their… vibes.”
“Theatre kid is an understatement for that boy,” Janis tuts affectionately.
“True,” Cady giggles. “Anyway, we can hang out in my room, if you want?”
Emma and Alyssa nod, so Cady leads everyone up to her bedroom. Janis flops onto the bed and Cady crawls in behind her, lifting her head onto her lap. Alyssa and Emma look around curiously for a second before joining them.
“Who did these?” Alyssa asks, pointing to the paintings and collages adorning the walls. “They’re incredible, especially this one. It looks just like you guys!”
Janis flushes as she points to the one she won her art contest with, of she and Damian and Cady all together. “I did.”
“Dang,” Emma breathes. “You have some serious talent, Janis.”
“Thanks,” Janis squeaks.
“No, seriously! Do you have stuff here?” Emma insists.
“A few things, yeah,” Janis says confusedly, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”
Emma lifts her guitar case onto the bed and flicks the latches open, pulling out her famous instrument. It’s covered in stickers and little doodles, much like Janis’ jackets.
“Will you do something on this for me?”
Janis’ eyes go wide. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course!” Emma chuckles. “There’s room down here if you want it visible, or on the back.”
Janis carefully takes the instrument and assesses the material, trying to put an idea together in her mind. She runs to Cady’s desk when one comes to her, where she keeps a supply of basic colors and brushes in case of emergency. Cady doesn’t mind keeping them, they remind her of her girlfriend.
Cady grins affectionately as Emma and Alyssa cuddle in together. “How did you two meet?”
Her cousin turns to smile at her girlfriend. “I kind of always knew of her from school and stuff, but we didn’t really get close until sophomore year.”
Alyssa nods in agreement. “My mom wanted me to be more creative and have another skill or whatever, so she signed me up for guitar classes. Just so happens she was my teacher.”
“You really sucked,” Emma teases. Alyssa scoffs, aghast, and shoves her so hard she nearly falls off the bed. “Ack! Hey, I was kidding!”
“I know,” Alyssa giggles. “I did suck, I’ve never been much good at artsy stuff.”
“I was never good at art either,” Cady chuckles at their antics. “Jay’s tried to teach me to paint a couple times and it hasn’t gone too well.”
She peeks around the other couple to where her own girlfriend is sitting cross-legged on the ground, tongue poked out to the side as she carefully brushes a stroke of paint onto Emma’s guitar. Janis looks up when she feels her gaze, and grins happily when she sees Cady.
“You have the right instincts, I keep telling you,” she says. “You just get cranky too fast and then start attacking me with it.”
Everyone else bursts out laughing. Emma says, “I don’t blame her, I hated art class. What were we talking about?”
“How we met, dummy,” Alyssa huffs, kissing behind Emma’s ear.
“Oh yeah! So, we started off with actual lessons, but then we started getting to know each other more,” Emma explains. “And then I came out and got kicked out, which… a lot of people heard about, so Lyss figured I was a safe person to tell that she was questioning.”
Cady nods, listening intently to the story.
“I came out to her that summer,” Alyssa says. “And she said she’d had a crush on me all along, and asked me out. So we went on a walk and then got coffee and the rest is history.”
“We forgot to mention the serious gay panic I had during our first lesson,” Emma chuckles. “But that’s the gist of it.”
“How cute,” Cady coos.
“What about you two, how long have you been together?” Alyssa asks kindly, flicking Emma’s ear gently as she aggressively plops down onto her lap.
“Four months,” Janis pipes up immediately.
“Man, you crushed on her for that long without saying anything, Cades?” Emma says, impressed. Janis pops her head up and listens in.
“Oh?”
“She never shut up about you for, like, almost a year,” Emma laughs. Cady flushes scarlet and looks down at her lap with a flustered squeak. “I’m assuming it was you, she never gave a name. But it was always a tall, hot artist with cool hair and nice muscles. And I think she mentioned your butt a few times, she thinks that’s cute.”
Janis cackles as Cady flops facedown onto her bed and groans into a pillow. “How cute, I didn’t know that. But I shouldn’t laugh, I definitely wasn’t any better.”
“How did you get together?” Alyssa asks, patting Cady’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. Janis snorts from the ground and Cady gives another groan into her pillow. “What?”
“You tell them,” Cady grumbles, poking her face out just long enough that it’s not muffled.
“Baby, it’s cute,” Janis coos.
“No it’s not!”
“Okay, fine, I’ll tell it in a way that makes me look just as dorky,” Janis compromises. “Caddy came to my school in September from Kenya, and she had these adorable little cargo shorts and socks with sandals on, and-“
“Hold on, what?” Alyssa insists. “Kenya?”
“Cady grew up there, her parents are zoologists,” Emma explains.
“How many conversations have we had with her? And you never thought to tell me she’s from Africa?”
“It never came up! We both had a lot going on the first year and then we just didn’t bring it up,” Emma defends. “And now you know.”
“Sorry,” Alyssa says. “Keep going.”
“It’s all good,” Janis chuckles. “Anyway, I fell for her so bad the first day that I dragged Damian into the bathroom at lunch and made him let her join our group.”
Cady pops her head up and looks to her girlfriend. “You did?”
“Yeah, duh,” Janis says. “We’re not known for socializing with the new kids, I just thought you were cute.”
Cady blushes again, but doesn’t return to her pillow. “Keep going.”
Janis chuckles and continues telling the story as she finishes her small painting on Emma’s guitar. “So we became friends that day, and then had… an ordeal, through the rest of junior year and didn’t really reconnect until spring.”
Cady’s told Emma and Alyssa the whole story, so they both nod at Janis’ quick explanation.
“We got really close over the summer, and apparently we were both crushing on each other. But we didn’t notice, somehow. And then I sorta snapped on her birthday this year and decided to fess up, so I made that,” Janis points to the black and white collage hanging next to one of her paintings on the wall. “But before I could give it to her, this little firecracker got wasted and started crying in my lap about how much she loved me.”
“I wasn’t that drunk!” Cady huffs.
“I found you lying on the ground singing yourself to sleep,” Janis giggles. “And you didn’t recognize me, clearly. Just climbed into my lap and spilled your guts. I was lucky it wasn’t literal.”
“Janis Sarkisian,” Cady grumbles. “Behave.”
“Fine, fine,” Janis chuckles. “Anyway, once she sobered up a little bit we had a chat and realized we both had feelings for each other, so we started dating. And now we’re here.”
“That did not make you sound anywhere near as dorky as me,” Cady huffs. “But yeah, that’s… that’s it.”
Emma snorts once the story is done. “That does sound like Cady. But if that’s what it took, then I guess it was worth it.”
Cady turns to look at Janis again. “It was. But you guys went through a lot more than us, that must have been tough on both of you.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Emma chuckles, trying to sneak a peek at Janis’ work. The angle isn’t quite right, so she gives up before she falls off her girlfriend. “You guys went through a lot. But yeah, it was really tough. I’m so lucky.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Alyssa murmurs back. “You guys know the story?”
“I do,” Cady says. “I think Jay and Damian just know the bare bones. It’s your story to tell, I didn’t want to give too many details away.”
Alyssa gives her a grateful smile, and Cady grins back. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Of course,” Janis pipes up. “I finished, by the way. Um, here.”
“Hey, you stole my idea!” Cady jokingly whines when she sees what Janis has done.
“But it’s so perfect!” Janis defends. Emma takes her guitar to see, and smiles at the new lion with a rainbow mane in the spot they’d picked. “And it’s kind of for both of us.”
“This is awesome,” Emma says. “Oh! I get it, it’s a pride thing! Pride of lions, and then… oh. Clever!”
“It was actually Caddy’s idea, she made me a rock with it at pride last week,” Janis says. “I thought it fit.”
“It does, you’re really talented!” Alyssa says, leaning over her girlfriend’s shoulder to see it. Janis’ text tone goes off, so she pulls her phone out of the pocket of her shorts to check it. Cady peeks over to see what it is too as Janis bursts out laughing. It’s a picture of Damian surrounded by his new friends, now in a matching tracksuit all of his own.
jamian: Sent a picture: JAN LOOKIT
danis: nice outfit
jamian: Thank u it really suits me doesnt it
danis: honestly
danis: yeah kinda
jamian: Sent a picture: Thank u
jamian: Anyway we’re going to ihop next yall should meet us there
danis: kk love u
jamian: Love u too
“I think your little crew adopted Damian,” Janis chuckles at Emma and Alyssa, showing them the photo of a very excited Damian.
“Aww,” Emma chuckles. “I’m glad they didn’t kill him, they can be a lot to handle.”
“He seems fine,” Janis shrugs. “Whose truck are we taking?”
“Oh, is that one in the driveway yours?” Emma says excitedly. Janis nods. “It’s nice!”
“We’ve been in Em’s all day,” Alyssa chuckles. “Probably best to take yours.”
“I call shotgun!” Cady yells, already tugging on her shoes and running downstairs.
“As if I’d let anyone else,” Janis mumbles affectionately under her breath.
————-
The waitstaff at IHOP look more than a little frightened at the size of their group, and especially at the crew in tracksuits.
“Ey, yo!” One of them calls. “Guys, come here! It’s that guy from the thing! That show!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Trent grumbles under his breath. “Why is it always that? I played Hamlet!”
They’re quickly escorted to a large table near the back, and Trent signs a few menus as a little gift to the now very excited waiters.
“Was Juilliard worth it?” He mutters to himself. Angie, who’s sat next to him, nudges him with an elbow to shut him up.
Janis and Emma both order for their girlfriends, and also order themselves the same meal of chicken and waffles. Dee Dee gets french toast, Angie gets an omelet, Trent gets some crepes, and Barry gets the most horrifically sweet looking pancakes anyone’s ever seen. Apparently they’re cupcake flavored.
Alyssa looks very content with her large Belgian waffle, and Cady seems delighted with her chocolate chip pancakes decorated with whipped cream to look like a face. It’s definitely from the children’s menu, but nobody says anything.
“So tell us about you guys,” Dee Dee says once their food gets delivered. She looks eagerly to her friends, as if to say, ‘Look how nice I can be when I want to.’ Barry claps quietly for her.
“What do you want to know?” Damian asks. Dee Dee puts her head in her hands, clearly not knowing how to continue. Trent takes over for her.
“How do you guys know each other?”
“Oh!” Damian says excitedly. “Janis and I have been friends, like, forever. We met in tap dance class when we were three.”
“And you knocked my fucking teeth out in that class when we were five,” Janis grumbles.
“By accident!” Damian defends amidst the giggles of their whole group. “I got really into it. Anyway, so we’ve been friends forever. And then little Caddy happened along in junior year, and we kind of kidnapped her for a while.”
“No, I needed to be kidnapped,” Cady laughs. “I was a total wreck. They actually sort of rescued me from the school bathroom at lunch.”
“You were eating in the bathroom?” Barry asks, sounding both empathetic and disgusted. “Oh, you poor sweet thing.”
“I was the new kid, y’know?” Cady shrugs. “Nobody wanted to eat with the dork from Africa.”
Angie chokes on a bite of her food, and Trent thumps her on the back. “From what now?”
“I’m from Kenya,” Cady giggles. “Well, technically I was born in Oregon. But I lived in Kenya for thirteen years.”
“Just, like, in the wilderness?” Barry asks in shock. “With the lions and tigers and… bears and stuff?”
Cady laughs out loud. “Pretty much. But there’s no tigers or bears.”
“But there were lions?” Trent insists.
“Oh, yeah,” Cady says like it’s entirely normal. “That’s mostly what we were studying. They were kind of my only friends.”
“And they never showed any interest in… consuming you?” Dee Dee asks worriedly. Cady laughs again.
“Lions are just big cats, you know, guys? As long as you’re careful and respect their boundaries they won’t hurt you,” she chuckles. “I got swiped at a few times when I was little, but I never needed more than fifteen stitches.”
“Fifteen?” Angie yelps.
“That is kind of a lot, Cades,” Emma chuckles. “I never had to get more than three as a kid.”
“Oh. Well, I was kind of asking for it, I was playing too rough,” Cady hums.
“With a lion,” Alyssa insists. “Do you have pictures?” Cady nods and passes over her phone for them to scroll through her camera roll.
“Anyway, please keep going,” Angie says, leaning across the table to try to see.
“That’s basically it,” Janis shrugs. “Until you get into the whole mess that happened junior year.”
Cady and Damian nod in agreement. The adults all look very excited at the prospect of some new drama. “Do tell.”
The art freaks all look to one another warily, wondering who should begin. Cady decides to after a second of back and forth.
“Well, um… I sat with these two on my first day,” she begins. “But then just before lunch ended I met these three girls. We called them the Plastics.”
“Why?” Angie asks curiously. Damian shows them all a photo. “Oh. I already don’t like this one.” Janis snorts quietly as she points to Regina.
“Anyway, they said I should sit with them, and Janis and Damian wanted me to so I could spy on them,” Cady says sheepishly. “They have some… personal history.”
“Oh?” Trent asks. Cady looks to Janis, this bit is her story to tell.
“Regina, the one in the middle, outed me in eighth grade,” Janis says. “Carved slurs into my locker, that kinda thing.”
“Oh, honey,” Barry says sadly. “That bitch.”
Janis chuckles weakly. “Yeah. The other two just kind of went along with it. They were just generally bitchy to everyone. But I didn’t have many friends because of her, and I went through a lot of counseling and stuff because of it. Spent some time in the hospital for… reasons, but that’s not… something we need to discuss right now.”
Everyone nods, respecting her privacy. Cady continues telling the story. “So, I pretended to join them and would kind of report back to Janis and Damian. I learned that they had this book, called the Burn Book, where they would write mean things about people from the yearbook and stuff. And at the same time I was crushing for a long time on this boy named Aaron, but he was Regina’s ex. She had dumped him earlier for another guy. And she was actually cheating on him with the other one.”
“Oh, can I tell this bit?” Janis asks. Cady nods and gestures for her to keep going. “So, around Halloween, Cady went to Aaron’s party, and I don’t know exactly what happened, but he basically got back together with Regina.”
“What kind of idiot-“ Trent begins, getting cut off by a stomp on the foot from Dee Dee.
“So poor Caddy came to my house,” Janis says, trying to keep down giggles at the memory. “Fucking slams my basement door open, but Dame and I were watching horror movies. Caddy was dressed as some corpse bride with a knife in her back and everything, and Damian screamed so loud, like, higher than I’ve ever heard. But she was crying, so we helped her and then came up with a revenge plot.”
Dee Dee suddenly looks very interested, leaning forwards slightly and resting her head on her folded hands.
“Caddy had these snack bars from Kenya, they’re… Swedish, I think?” Damian says. Cady nods. “They make you gain weight, like, really quickly. Regina was kind of obsessed with her weight and image and stuff, so we got Caddy to tell her they were actually a diet bar to help lose weight.”
“No,” Angie gasps. Everyone laughs at her reaction.
“Yeah,” Cady laughs. “I don’t think anything major happened until around Christmas. The Plastics did this dance every year at the winter talent show, and we had to wear these skimpy little Santa outfits. But Regina had already gained a fair bit of weight, so her skirt didn’t fit…”
“It fell off in the middle of the routine in front of everyone,” Janis cackles. Emma and Alyssa both look slightly scared of her. “Sorry. Personal vindication. But yeah, that was kind of the beginning of the end for her. Cady kind of… got lost in it, by that point. It was hard to tell if she was pretending or not.”
Cady looks down at her lap in shame, so Janis takes her hand under the table and kisses the side of her head a few times to comfort her. Damian keeps going with the story.
“So, Caddy basically overthrew Regina as Queen Bee of the school. She threw a little party and didn’t invite us or Regina, so she kind of was attacking both fronts. We got pretty mad and stopped associating with her, and Regina was obviously furious,” he says. “And so as revenge for that, Regina photocopied the Burn Book and spread all the pages around the school. I saw, like, seven fights before first period even started that day.”
“But didn’t they know that she had written it?” Trent asks.
“That’s the thing, she put herself in it,” Janis adds, now holding Cady on her lap. “So nobody suspected her. She went to the principal and blamed Gretchen and Karen, they’re the other two, and Cady.”
“I don’t like this story,” Barry whines. “Tell me something good happens.”
“Oh, just wait,” Janis chuckles darkly. “There was an assembly called that day, and they tried to make us apologize to each other and do trust exercises or something like that. I kind of went rogue and only apologized to myself and rallied the rest of the girls in our grade.”
“Go Janis,” Angie says, sounding impressed. “Stick it to the man.”
“Thanks,” Janis laughs. “But it only lasted a few minutes.”
“Damn it,” Barry groans. “What happened?”
“Regina got hit by a bus,” Cady says. Angie spits her mouthful of lemonade over Trent.
“She what?”
“Yeah,” Cady laughs. “So, that time kind of sucked for both of us. She was in the hospital recovering, and everyone was saying that I pushed her in front of it or that she jumped in front of it on purpose because of me.”
“She didn’t die?” Dee Dee clarifies. Everyone is more than a little concerned at the disappointment in her voice.
“No,” Cady chuckles. “Well, she died for, like, fifteen seconds, but she was resuscitated and she’s fine now.”
“And did you push her?” Barry asks. “We’re all friends here, you can tell us.”
“No!” Cady huffs. “I may have been a raging bitch, but I’m not an attempted murderer.”
“You didn’t feed anyone to a lion back in Kenya?” Janis teases gently.
“I’ll do it to you if you’re not careful,” Cady retaliates with a laugh. “Where did we leave off?”
“Regina got hit by a bus and you didn’t push her,” Trent says helpfully, still dabbing some lemonade out of his sweater with a wad of napkins.
“Oh,” Damian says. “Okay, so, I don’t… totally remember what happened in between that and Spring Fling, but it’s really not important.”
“I was suspended for the Book, that’s kind of it,” Cady says, gesturing for him to continue.
“Oh, yeah! Anyway, Spring Fling at our school is basically prom but for underclassmen, prom is just for the seniors. Jan and I were each other’s dates, she decorated our outfits and stuff, we looked killer if I do say so myself.”
Janis rolls her eyes lovingly and whacks him with an elbow.
“And Caddy was banned, so she wasn’t supposed to be there, but she showed up towards the end with the Mathletes,” Damian continues. “And she had been nominated for queen, and she won. So she went up on stage and gave the most beautiful speech I’ve ever heard and broke her crown, and we all got a piece. So now we’re all friends and life is good.”
“Nice ending, Dame,” Janis laughs. “Hasty conclusions. But that it is basically how it happened.”
Everyone blinks at them. Trent says, “That was like being in a war zone. Just one bombshell after another.”
“It kinda was, our math teacher got stabbed in the leg at one point,” Cady hums. “Anyway, what’s your guys’ story? If you want to share.”
“Oh, yeah, I’d like to know more,” Damian says. “Jan and I really only know the bare bones. What was in the news, and stuff.”
“You guys can start,” Emma says, pulling a face as Alyssa gently dabs some syrup off her lip. Alyssa giggles when Emma tries to bite her hand and kisses Emma’s cheek.
“Ooh, okay!” Barry says eagerly. “We were in a show. Well, Dee Dee and I. We were in a delightful little show called Eleanor.”
“As in…” Janis says confusedly.
“Eleanor Roosevelt,” Dee Dee explains. She seems surprised when the kids all nod in understanding. “You’ve heard of her?”
“Yeah?” Cady says, tilting her head. “She’s one of the most famous first ladies of all time, we learned about her in our history class.”
“Not nearly enough,” Janis grumbles. “Gotta make time for the men.”
“Amen sister,” Angie huffs.
“Really…” Dee Dee hums interestedly. “Anyway, it was… not a success. Poor advance sales, and then…”
“We bombed opening night,” Barry grumbles. “Apparently. But it wasn’t the show, it was… it was us. The media panned us as aging narcissists and we had to close.”
“On opening night?” Damian gasps in horror. Dee Dee and Barry both nod sadly.
“Regretfully, yes. So, we had to try to change the narrative,” Dee Dee says. “We decided to find a good cause and do something. So we were going to build houses for Habitat for Humanity.”
“But Barry has a bad back,” Trent pipes up. “So then we thought about, like, recycling or fixing poverty or world hunger.”
“But that was all too much for us to handle,” Angie says. “So I went on Twitter and found-”
“Me!” Emma says. “Apparently that all happened on the same night as the first assembly where the PTA cancelled prom in the first place. I guess we were trending.”
“And they only cancelled it because you two wanted to go together?” Janis asks sadly.
“Yep. Well, nobody knew about Alyssa, but they cancelled it because they knew I wanted to bring my girlfriend,” Emma explains.
“Those bitches,” Janis grumbles. “Sorry.”
“Believe me, we get it,” Emma laughs. “But my bit of the story isn’t quite here yet.”
“Oh, yes!” Dee Dee realizes. “So, we decided to help Emma, but we were completely out of funds and had no way to get all the way to Indiana from New York.”
“But I had just booked a non-equity tour of Godspell,” Trent half-brags. The other half seems rather depressed at that statement. “So we came on the tour bus.”
“Can I start our part?” Alyssa asks. Emma nods and squeezes her hand under the table. “So, they obviously gave no indication that they were coming. Emma and Principal Hawkins had gone to the State’s Attorney by that point and put some legal pressure on the PTA, so we had another assembly to discuss options.”
“We?” Damian asks.
“Oh, my mom was the head of the PTA,” Alyssa says casually. Damian chokes on his drink and Janis nearly drops Cady on the ground.
“Your mom cancelled your prom?” Janis asks in shock. Alyssa nods sadly. “Oh, because you… she didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“It was what it was. She knows now,” Alyssa hums. “Anyway, I was there to speak for student council. I was mid-sentence, and then they come barreling into the gym with signs and yelling at everyone.”
“Educating everyone,” Barry corrects. “Loudly and with signs.”
“Right, educating. Sorry,” Alyssa laughs. “So my mom totally loses her shit. It’s chaos. I think Trent had a cowbell at some point?”
Trent reaches into a messenger bag next to him and pulls out a cowbell, resting it on the table with a quiet thunk.
“You just keep that with you?” Janis chuckles.
“For emergencies,” Trent explains. “You’d be surprised.”
Janis tries to think of what emergencies she’s faced that would either be helped or solved with the addition of a cowbell, and surprisingly, she can think of a few.
“Of course he keeps it all the time,” Emma chuckles. “I don’t remember… most of what happened that time. But after a few days they announced that the prom was back on.”
“Because of you?” Damian asks, looking to the stars.
“No,” they all say at the same time Emma says, “I think so.”
Everyone looks her way. “I told you this at the time, but you guys really scared people! I think you at least had a part.”
“How sweet,” Dee Dee says. “Let’s say we had an ensemble part in getting it back on.”
That gets a chuckle from everyone at the table, before Barry continues with the story.
“I, obviously, had to take Emma shopping,” he says. “She only had one dress and it was… a travesty would be an understatement.”
“I’m honestly not sure where it came from,” Emma chuckles. “Just think Little House on the Prarie but somehow so much worse.”
“So we went to the mall, and found this lovely blue dress and some good shoes,” Barry says. Emma looks like she would disagree with his choice of adjectives, but nods. “Did her hair and makeup all fancy, and bought her a corsage.”
“Aww,” Cady coos. “How sweet.”
“That part was fun,” Emma agrees fondly. “But…”
“When we got there,” Barry says. “Poor thing was so excited, but it was-it was just-“
Dee Dee continues for him, as Barry gets too emotional to keep going. “It was totally empty. Barry took Emma into the gym, and it was just horrific. There were barely any decorations, and they were just thrown up. I would be stunned if they spent more than ten dollars on the whole thing.”
“Oh god,” Damian says sadly. “I heard it was a fake, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“It sucked,” Emma chuckles sardonically, trying not to get too heavy in the middle of an IHOP. “More than anything. I didn’t care about the decorations, I just… it was so lonely, you know? I realized then that so many people I thought cared about me just didn’t. So many people I thought were my friends, weren’t. I had never felt more alone.”
“It sounds awful,” Janis says.
“It was,” Emma mumbles. Alyssa takes her hand under the table and gives it a gentle squeeze. Emma looks up and gives her a sad but grateful grin.
“I was at the… other prom. The real one,” Alyssa continues, seeming ashamed. “I had no idea what they had done, everyone on student council and the PTA hid it from me too. Some of my friends had seen us together and realized I was the ‘secret girlfriend’ and were trying to break us up.”
“Which worked,” Emma admits sadly. “I called her to try to get her to come to my own personal prom so I could at least have her there, but her mom was at the real one with her and she couldn’t leave. And I just sort of… lost it. I hung up and we didn’t talk again for a week.”
“I never blamed you for that,” Alyssa murmurs gently. “You were still trying to process everything and I just added to it.”
“No, you didn’t,” Emma insists. “We can talk more later. Anyway. I ran out, obviously. And Angie actually came after me, which was nice. She just let me cry and didn’t make me do anything. Helped me get my makeup off and stuff. She even slept on my bedroom floor in case I needed something. It was kind of like having a mom there, which I really needed.”
“How fucking old-“ Angie begins, but Trent claps a hand over her mouth. Emma laughs and continues.
“And then the rest of them came by the next day even though I yelled at them,” she says.
“With ice cream!” Barry butts in. “That’s an important detail.”
“Oh yeah, they brought me Häagen Dazs,” Emma laughs. “It was cute. Especially because they thought I wouldn’t know what it was.”
“Can you blame us? You live in the most yeehaw hick town in Indiana,” Trent says. “And that’s saying something.”
“It’s not that bad,” Emma tuts. “Anyway, they brought ice cream and were trying to convince me to do something to bring more attention to what was happening. Dee Dee actually got me on a talk show at one point, but I knew I would never be able to do something like that.”
“You still owe me a house,” Dee Dee grumbles under her breath. “But what she wound up doing was much better anyway.”
“The song?” Damian asks. Emma nods.
“I had it sort of in my head for a while, and I managed to piece it together in about a week,” she replies. “I was terrified, but it was just an overnight thing. I woke up the next day and it already had two million views.”
Alyssa squeezes her hand with a proud smile. “Half of them were me.”
“The other half were Damian,” Janis chuckles. “He made me watch it at lunch one day and we both watched it so many times we knew all the words by the next day.”
“Aww,” Emma says. “You guys are so sweet.”
“We try,” Janis and Damian say at the same time, locking eyes and glaring at each other once they notice. Cady giggles at their antics.
“Anyway,” Emma laughs. “I wasn’t expecting even that many, but people just kept watching, and then I started getting all these comments on it that were so precious. All these other queer kids all over the world sharing their stories too. Eventually it got back to Principal Hawkins and all of them, and they helped figure out how to set up an inclusive prom. And funded it, which was very helpful.”
“Yeah, helpful,” Dee Dee grumbles under her breath.
“Once we saw where the money was going it was so worth it,” Barry says, gently kicking Dee Dee under the table. “It was beautiful.”
“It really was,” Emma agrees. “But god, it took forever to set up.”
“God, yeah,” Alyssa says. “Oh, and we got back together, like, as we were setting everything up, we forgot to mention that.”
“Oh yeah,” Emma says. “Her mom came when she heard what we were doing in the gym because we never got PTA approval-“
“So she was mad,” Alyssa butts in.
“Very mad,” Emma chuckles. “But you came with her and told her to stop talking, which was both hilarious and terrifying. And then you told me you loved me in front of everyone. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”
“Me either,” Alyssa says quietly.
“Aww,” Cady says, even though she’s heard the whole story before. It’s always a good one to repeat. “How sweet.”
“So after that whole thing we finished setting everything up,” Emma continues, smiling at her girlfriend. “And it was beautiful, even I was impressed.”
“You looked so happy when everyone started showing up,” Alyssa says fondly. “I was so proud of you. I still am. You gave so many people an incredible night they wouldn’t have had without you.”
Emma flushes slightly and looks down at her lap. Alyssa squishes her cheeks in her hand to get her to look back up.
“It really was an incredible night,” she says. “And we finally got to dance together, I think that was my favorite part.”
“That was good,” Alyssa nods. “But you’re a terrible dancer.”
“Hey! Just because I didn’t take dance classes for years,” Emma pouts.
“Oh, hush, I’m joking,” Alyssa says, kissing Emma’s cheek.
“You missed,” Emma continues pouting. Alyssa frowns in confusion and kisses her cheek again, but in a different spot. “You missed.”
Alyssa gives her a chaste kiss on the lips this time, and Emma finally smiles. Alyssa rolls her eyes lovingly. “You’re such a dork, goodness gracious.”
“You guys are almost as cute as Caddy and Janis,” Damian says, trying to snap them out of it and get them to remember the presence of the group.
“Almost?” Alyssa says, her competitive side making a slight appearance. “I think you’re biased.”
“Oh, definitely,” Damian agrees. “We don’t really have any unbiased judges though.”
“True. We’ll say it’s a truce for now,” Alyssa says. “Are we all done? I need to get up for a bit. I’m stuffed.”
“I think so,” Cady says, looking around at all the empty plates around. “We could go to the beach for the sunset, if you guys want. It’s not too far a drive.”
“Ooh, yes please,” Emma says excitedly. The adults play rock paper scissors to work out payment, and Dee Dee grumbles under her breath when she loses.
“Hungry kids. Why are pancakes so expensive?”
————-
“Oh, guys, look!” Damian says, pointing to a window of a thrift shop nearby. “We could go try on dresses!”
“We?” Janis chuckles, carrying Cady on her back. “You gonna get into a ballgown, D?”
“Why not?” Damian asks. “I have the figure for it, shut up.”
“I thought we were going to the beach,” Angie says.
“We can do both,” Barry says, seeming strangely excited. “Wear dresses to the beach.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Cady says eagerly, squeezing her legs together a bit to get Janis to go in, as if she’s riding a pony. “Please?”
“I am not paying,” Dee Dee says immediately. Everyone else nods, that’s only fair.
“Fine, fine. Come along,” Trent says, leading them into the shop as their gaggle of children follow like ducklings.
—-
The employees look a bit concerned as all nine of them parade to the discounted gown section and start looking for ones in their sizes. Damian finds his first, a royal purple gown with a high neck and a slit that would reach about to his knee. He takes it off the rack and heads over to the changing room, rapidly followed by Barry with his silver gown.
“How did-“ Emma stutters. “I guess they knew what they were looking for.”
Angie helps Trent find one that would fit him, an emerald green dress with long sleeves and a nice v-neck collar. He shrugs and follows Barry and Damian. Angie then moves on to find one of her own, and picks out a sleek black dress made of lace and with a shorter skirt, about to the knee. Dee Dee follows with one she seems to have grabbed at random, a nice yellow gown complete with a cape.
Alyssa picks a pink dress with a longer train, since she wore a short dress to both of her real proms and wants to experiment a little. Cady picks a yellow one, with longer sleeves and a bow in the back. The skirt is short, which makes her a little nervous, but she decides to give it a go.
Janis and Emma both look a bit lost, staring aimlessly at the racks and flicking through them weakly.
“Jayjay, try this one,” Cady says, offering a long, red, short-sleeved gown that looks like it would have a rather tight fit. Maybe Cady has some selfish motivations here, but she’ll never admit it. Janis raises a slightly suspicious eyebrow, but takes the dress and hauls her girlfriend off to the changing rooms.
“They all look so itchy,” Emma shudders slightly. Alyssa laughs and takes one of her hands.
“If you got one made of something like this it wouldn’t be too bad,” she says, showing Emma one made of an almost satin-like material. “And it’ll only be a couple hours at most. We’re going to the beach, sand is itchy anyway.”
“True,” Emma agrees with a little nod. “I like this one.”
“So try it,” Alyssa chuckles as Emma grabs an amethyst colored ballgown with a big poofy skirt. “Come on.”
Most of their group is waiting outside the rooms, clad in their ill fitting gowns. Trent’s is a bit too big, Barry’s is missing some sequins, and Angie’s has a small hole in the sleeve, but none of them complain.
Cady and Janis open the curtains to their respective rooms, revealing their dresses to one another. Janis is somehow not tall enough to fill her dress out, which makes her look a bit like Morticia Addams, but she doesn’t mind. Cady’s is almost perfect, but the skirt clings to her legs in an odd way.
“You look nice!” Cady says, gently adjusting Janis’ sleeve as Janis tugs at her collar.
“It’s a bit tight,” Janis says, sounding rather choked.
“I can fix that once we buy it,” Barry says, looking at himself in the mirror. Everyone looks at him in concern. “What? I have a stitch kit, I’ll just cut the collar off it.”
“Oh,” everyone says. Alyssa and Emma exit the changing rooms then, prompting coos from everyone.
“Emmy, you look beautiful!” Alyssa says, pulling her girlfriend into a hug. “The color really suits you.”
“Does it?” Emma says, sarcastically striking a pose. “It feels very… purple.”
“I like purple,” Alyssa hums, adjusting Emma’s skirt.
“You look really nice,” Emma replies, looking at Alyssa’s long dress. Hers is the closest to fitting correctly out of everyone’s.
“Thanks!” Alyssa says, putting her hands on her hips and popping out a knee. Emma laughs and kisses her gently.
“Okay, let’s go!” Angie says happily, having been taking pictures of everyone like a proud mom taking photos for her Facebook. Angie, Trent, and Barry split the cost among them, and they unleash their prom-ready selves onto the public.
—————-
“So you guys just graduated, right?” Alyssa asks, strolling down the shore holding hands with Emma. Cady and Janis are also hand in hand walking next to them.
“Yep!” Cady chirps.
“So you must’ve just had your senior prom too, what was yours like?”
“It was so fun! Damian took me shopping and I had the most beautiful dress,” Cady replies eagerly. “And Janis had a suit to match and it was… she looked… so hot.”
“Ooh,” Emma teases. “Scandalous.”
“Hey,” Cady says. “I’m allowed to think she’s hot.”
“Fair enough,” Emma shrugs.
“What about you guys, how are you handling your post-prom fame?” Janis jokes.
“Pretty well,” Emma chuckles. “Or at least I think we are.”
“You certainly are,” Alyssa murmurs.
“Oh yeah, aren’t you starting a nonprofit or something?” Cady asks.
“Wait, what?” Janis asks.
“I’m trying,” Emma laughs again. “Lyss’ mom is actually helping me. And trying to start a charity looks, like, super good on college applications, so that’s nice.”
“I thought your mom started this whole fiasco,” Janis says confusedly.
“Oh, she did,” Alyssa confirms. “But she’s cool with the gays now. She had a lot of questions and stuff, and she’s still having to work pretty hard at it. Changing opinions and thought patterns that were instilled in you from
childhood is tough. But she’s trying.”
“Yeah, she came to pride with us this year,” Emma says. “It was cute, she had a rainbow pantsuit and everything.”
“Go mom,” Janis chuckles. “I’m glad she turned things around.”
“Me too,” Alyssa murmurs quietly.
“Me three,” Emma says, squeezing her hand.
“So what’s this charity you’re getting going?” Cady asks.
“It’s called the Unruly Hearts Foundation,” Emma explains. “It’s a nonprofit that takes donations and stuff to throw other inclusive events around the country. Create safe spaces. And we also donate a fair bit to LGBTQ+ shelters and stuff, too.”
“That’s awesome,” Janis says. “I’m broke but I’ll donate a bit once I get my commissions business going.”
“Thanks, Janis,” Emma chuckles. “You know, we could use some branding. A logo, stuff for our website. If you’re interest-“
“Yes,” Janis interrupts. “I’m interested. Please.”
“Groovy,” Emma laughs. “I’ll be in touch, get Cady to give you my number.”
“You say groovy too?!” Damian asks eagerly as he makes an appearance. “These two always make fun of me for it.”
“Hell yeah I say groovy,” Emma says, giving Damian a fist bump. “Sometimes it’s the only word that fits the vibes, you know?”
“Yes!” Damian says. “See? Emma gets it.”
“I think ‘tits’ is pretty versatile,” Janis says. “You kind of look like Ursula, by the way, Dame.”
“Thanks,” Damian says, swishing his purple skirt around. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”
“It was,” Janis huffs. “As if I’d ever insult you.”
“You called me a ‘fucking deplorable kneecap’ on the way here,” Damian retaliates. Emma and Alyssa rode separately and burst out laughing.
“And now I have grown as a person. Developed myself.”
“It was ten minutes ago!”
“And? I’m not the same me I was two minutes ago, let alone ten,” Janis defends.
“Thank god,” Damian grumbles jokingly.
“Hey!” Janis says, breaking away from Cady and running after him. Damian shrieks and holds up his skirts to run away.
“Do we need to intervene here, Cades?” Emma asks with a slight chuckle as Damian and Janis sprint up and down the shoreline in a sort of oval.
“Nah,” Cady shrugs. “They do stuff like this about once a week. Janis knows she needs him, she won’t actually do anything.”
Just as she says that, Damian takes a hard left and runs full tilt into the lake. Janis pauses for a second before shrugging and running after him.
“Or maybe she will.”
“That water must be cold,” Alyssa chuckles in concern.
“Let’s find out!” Emma says boldly, tightening her grip on Alyssa’s hand and running them towards the water as well. Alyssa shrieks as they leap into the lake with a splash. Cady realizes she’s alone and also runs in, managing a cannonball into the water.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Barry yells, walking up on a sort of puddle of teenagers in soaking wet dresses.
“They’re being kids, let them live,” Dee Dee says. “Unrelated, can you swim?”
“Yeah, wh- don’t you dare,” Barry says, turning to face her.
“Oh, I would never,” Dee Dee says, aghast at the mere suggestion. Trent then comes sprinting up and tackles Barry into the lake. “But he would.”
Angie cackles and high fives her. Dee Dee crosses her arms over her chest and smiles down as Barry pops back up with a splutter.
“Dee Dee Allen!” Barry demands. “Get your ass in here.”
“No, I don’t think I will, thank you,” Dee Dee says casually, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet.
“Oh come on,” Angie coaxes. “It’s only fair.”
“I didn’t push him!”
“You had a role.”
Dee Dee ponders this for a moment before she begrudgingly reaches to take Angie’s hand, and they leap in together.
“Yay!” Emma cheers, delighted that all her friends made it into the lake one way or another. Some of them are significantly less happy about this, but everyone is laughing eventually.
“Hey, Caddy,” Janis says. She swims over to her girlfriend and kisses her gently, before booping her nose. “Tag. You’re it.”
Cady laughs as Janis swims away as fast as she can, rapidly followed by the rest of the group. Cady swims around for a second while she ponders her options to decide who to go after. Emma is a strong swimmer, being on her high school swim team and all. Alyssa is okay, but a bit weaker.
Barry seems to be the slowest, and gives her the best chance of success. He looks very anxious as Cady stares him down before lunging for him. He shrieks as Cady manages to snag his skirt and tap his arm under the water before she backstrokes away.
“Damn it,” he puffs. “I’m having elementary school flashbacks.”
“Better than middle school flashbacks,” Angie calls.
“Amen,” Janis says. She screams as Barry goes for her and swims away, huddling behind Damian for protection.
“Hey!” Damian whines, swimming away from her and creating a sort of three-way chase. Janis quickly gives up on Damian’s protection and swims to Cady instead.
“Protect me,” she pleads. Cady smiles as Janis hides behind her, peeking over her shoulder to check where the threat is.
“You’re so cute.”
“No I’m not,” Janis pouts. “I’m being stealthy.”
“Uhhuh,” Cady says as Janis clings to her like a precious little octopus. “If you get me tagged again I’m breaking up with you.”
“That’s fair,” Janis agrees with a shrug. Alyssa suddenly gives a shriek as Barry taps her leg under the water. “Uh oh.”
————-
After an hour or so of tag, the sun begins to set for the day. The water temperature plummets and everyone swims to shore to watch the sky be painted beautiful shades of pink and orange and purple. The adults and Damian head back to the car to go hunt for towels and dry clothes somewhere.
But Cady, Janis, Emma and Alyssa stay behind, deciding they don’t mind so much if they’re in heavy, cold dresses and getting covered in itchy sand. Cady holds Janis on her lap and Alyssa has Emma in hers, all of them staring out over the expanse of the water before them together.
“You guys should visit more often,” Cady says quietly as the first stars begin to make an appearance.
“Absolutely,” Alyssa says, looking down at her girlfriend. “This was an awesome day.”
“And we’ll have more,” Emma says.
Together.
—-
thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed!
lots of love,
ezzy
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Text
Nancy Wheeler Nanny headcanons
Thanks @nancykali for all the help xoxoxo
⁃ Nancy runs a daycare from the Wheeler house- well not really a daycare but she nannys Holly and Erica (Holly is 6, Erica is 7) all summer and the rest of the kids generally hang out there .. for multiple reasons
⁃ One.. Nancy makes the best lunches, like they always have the best juice boxes and Nancy makes pasta salads and hotdogs and the best sandwiches with crusts cut off and her, Holly and Erica use cookie cutters to cut shapes out of watermelon or make fruit kabobs or the best rice krispie bars in the universe and never bats an eye when she has to make two pans a day
⁃ She also hides two liters of Mountain Dew and lets the kids have one cup a day as long as they don’t tell their mom
⁃ Two.. Nancy Sits in their front yard in a kiddy pool and tans and reads books in a sparkly pink bikini (think Elle woods) with her hair up in whatever little hair do the girls do on her in the morning, while they’re all getting dressed, with her freckles and oversized sunglasses and pink tinted lip balm and tanning oil and glimmering belly button ring.
⁃ Erica and Holly wear their bikinis too and run a tiny lemonade stand at the end of their driveway, the two girls caked in sunscreen, with those tiny plastic chairs for when they get tired
⁃ Anyway, Mike is super embarrassed because everyone thinks Nancy is really hot I mean DUH including Max who’s a lesbian or well she doesn’t exactly know her label yet but all she knows is Nancy is smoking hot and she pretends to like lipstick and mascara cause Nancy gets so excited talking to her about all these different eyeshadow palettes but mostly she just hears Naked
⁃ Will doesn’t think she’s cute cause he thinks Mike is cute and wants to know why Mike is never playing with her or in a swimsuit and Mike always blushes really hard and shoves at him and El watches in fascination, before asking if their boyfriends
⁃ Holly and Erica run a lemonade stand that Nancy helps them make and she adds a lemon wedge to every cup while Erica adds a cherry to each one, and sometimes they sell baked goods if it’s not too hot to turn on the ice
⁃ Nancy’s supervising from her spot in the kiddie pool and of course making the girls more money cause who wouldn’t want an excuse to ogle Nancy, especially when she’s just laying out there tanning or the girls wanna join her in the pool or run through the sprinklers so she’s gotta stand at the stand in her little swimsuit cover up but then they just get even more business cause everyone wants to talk to Nancy Wheeler
⁃ but the point is Steve, Jonathan and Kali come by DAILY and if the kids aren’t hanging at Mikes.. they’re always coming by too ESPECIALLY max and Dustin
⁃ So we got Steve who’s a couple years older who lets Nancy buy cigarettes and alcohol from the corner store and they’ve hooked up a few times and he’s always looking fine as fuck in his little button downs and pastel colored shorts and when Nancy walks the girls down to corner store he lets them get free ice cream and help him count the change and Nancy always bends down to grab something off the lowest shelf and he’s always crouching down to the girls height and complimenting their lemonade and ruffling his hair and eyeing Nancy out of the corner of his eye to see if she’ll acknowledge him or just eye him over the corner of her book
⁃ Jonathan comes over for Will, Will lives the farthest so he comes to bring him or pick him up and he drives a car, nothing fancy but Nancy doesn’t have one and Jonathan blushes so pretty so occasionally she’ll get out of the pool and lean against the drivers door and ask when he’s gonna give her a ride all sultry and he blushes and stutters and she invites him for some lemonade which he insists on paying the girls for, sometimes she’ll invite him in for some spiked lemonade and they sit on the porch and drink it during naptime, sometimes Steve and Jonathan are there at the same time and Nancy shamelessly flirts with them both, the three of them tipsy on too expensive vodka and too cheap lemonade
⁃ Kali is a year above Nancy and Jonathan and always comes around too, with her purple streaks and wild hair dos. Her summer go to is a French braid with big hoop earrings and she wears crop tops and high waisted shorts that show off her curves and fucking vans even though it’s over ninety degrees. So she always buys lemonade and then sits on the grass next to Nancy and teases her about whatever book she’s reading. She makes a sly comment like, “when you’re ready to learn something that you can’t find in books you hit me up Wheeler (because apparently this is an 80s movie where they call each other by their last names) and Nancy’s face flames and Kali laughs and winks and Nancy splashes water at her which really just succeeds in wetting her white crop top so she can see her purple bra.
⁃ One time all three of Nancy’s suitors come just as she’s cleaning up the booth for nap time. The girls are watching tv while Nancy cleans up and then it’s nap time so anyway everyone shows up around the same time and Kali’s confused, she did come for lemonade and her daily dose of Nancy Wheeler but the boys seem to know her better and ask if she has an adult lemonade, Kali teases her and pouts and asks why she’s never been invited for adult lemonade, especially when Jonathan helps her bring the stand to the garage and Steve leads Kali in the house to make the spiked lemonade. She’s jealous Steve knows Nancy so well but also inthralled by his chest hair and how he gets away with wearing his shirt cut so low.
⁃ So it turns into a thing, at night they hang out and drink and around the bonfire the older kids have because it’s summer aka everyone practically lives at the Wheelers and flirt and when the boys go to sleep they pass around joints and the shotgun until they all just end up trading kisses with everyone
Extras from this verse:
⁃ Erica gets dropped off at seven am every morning and Mrs.Sinclair is greeted by Nancy still in her pajamas drinking a cup of coffee
⁃ Most times the girls eat eggos or dry cereal in front of the tv while Nancy downs two more cups of coffee. Finally she makes them get dressed and does Holly’s hair. Mrs.Sinclair showed her how to remove Erica’s bonnet and slick and comb off her hair into a braid and then the girls do her hair. If lunch isn’t already prepared they cook lunch and then get ready to do whatever outdoor activity they wanna do for the save even though Nancy would much rather sit inside in the ac
⁃ Though some days she can’t be bothered to force them outside so they have movie days. When they have these movie days, Nancy generally lets the boys watch and do whatever they want- while they girls are sleeping. She has a potty mouth of her own so rated r movies aren’t that serious to her so the kids crowd up the couch eating popcorn and chips and candy and drinking pop and they’re watching some random rated R movie and all of a sudden TITS are on the screen and she flips out and starts screaming and mike can’t shut up it fast enough as if these kids have never seen tits but she’s just freaking the fuck out and her face is so red and they watch nothing but PG rated movies for weeks, and she’s telling Steve, Kali and Jonathan the story the next time they’re over and Steve busts out laughing and is like “do you fucking know what pornhub is?” And Nancy’s like they do not watch porn and Kali’s like “fuck yeah they do” and Nancy’s like WTF I can’t handle this so yeah no more rated r movies
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hottytoddynews · 7 years
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In Camino Island, John Grisham’s thirtieth novel and thirty-second book (thirty-eighth if you count children’s books), two different stories are dovetailed together.  One is the tale of a soulful young writer who returns to the beach town she knew as a girl to come to terms with her grandmother’s death and to look for something resembling love.  The other is a hard-edged thriller, a caper piece, about high-tech burglars who steal a priceless manuscript collection, fall out among themselves, lose hold of their prize, and leave a trail of bodies as they race the FBI to recover it.
And inside Camino Island there is a third book, calmer and quieter and written with the authority of familiarity.  Honoré de Balzac once broke the headlong pace of one of his own thrillers so that he might take a sidelong, unhurried look at the founding of a hair-oil enterprise, following his characters as they scouted out workshops, found money, and obtained a sufficient supply of bottles.  In the same way, Camino Island follows its characters through two businesses with which John Grisham has a quarter-century of experience, the writer’s craft, and the bookseller’s trade – and it is these sections that are the freshest and most intriguing.
Camino Island opens with a heist; a break-in staged with military precision and black-ops gadgetry at the Firestone Library at Princeton University, home to the original drafts of Scott Fitzgerald’s novels.  The burglars plan to steal and ransom the Fitzgerald manuscripts – but while the burglary succeeds, an overlooked drop of blood thwarts the burglars’ larger plans, and sets law enforcement on their trail.
Mercer Mann, the book’s heroine, now enters the narrative.  Mercer is a young novelist whose first books sold well but whose career has stalled.  Her teaching contract has not been renewed, her student loans are large, and she agrees to an offer made by a nameless “security and investigation” firm: to spend the summer on Camino Island, there to befriend the resort town’s bookstore owner, Bruce Cable.   Cable discounts bestsellers, he offers paperbacks for the beach, he hosts visiting writers, and he traffics in rare books, sometimes of dubious provenance.  His strongrooms are thought to hold the Fitzgerald manuscripts.
Mercer makes her way into Cable’s circle, the local set of writers – personalities whose reputations, talents, and degrees of success vary widely.  Most colorful are Leigh and Myra, partners in writing and in life, who are known for Leigh’s impenetrable literary fiction and Myra’s soft-pornography bodice-rippers.  “Those were the days,” Myra recalls.  “We cranked out a hundred books under a dozen names . . . .   [Then] we got sued twice by this crazy bitch up north who claimed we had stolen her stuff.  Wasn’t true.  Our crap was much better than her crap.”
Myra, all six loud lesbian feet of her, wakes up the book.  Compared to her, Grisham’s crooks and FBI men are square-jawed cartoons.
For nearly all Grisham’s legal thrillers, the epigraph might be Balzac’s most famous adage, behind every great fortune there lies a great crime (either that, or every great fortune begets a great crime).  And Grisham’s work recalls the French master’s respect for ambition and industry.  Bruce Cable starts his career by purloining rare books from his father’s library, but Grisham makes clear that his success as a bookseller is earned fair and square.  A long flashback on the history of Bay Books is a study in crisp narrative and significant detail.
“He pushed the closing time back from seven to nine and put in fifteen hours a day.  He worked the front like a politician, memorizing the names of the regular customers . . . .  He removed shelves of old books mainly classics that were not too popular, and put in a small café.  Closing time went from nine to ten.  He cranked out dozens of handwritten notes to customers, and to writers and booksellers he’d met on his coast-to-coast adventures.  At midnight, he was often at the computer, updating the Bay Books newsletter.  He wrestled with the idea of opening on Sunday . . . .[In] September he said to hell with it and opened at 9:00 a.m. Sunday, with the New York Times, Washington Post, Boston Globe, and Chicago Tribune hot off the press, along with fresh chicken biscuits from a café three doors down.”
Readers who read Grisham’s first bestseller, The Firm, will find that Camino Island is cut from the same piece of cloth.  The story unspools with a jump.  The viewpoint zigzags from character to character, opening space for plot twists and surprise endings.  Technology works flawlessly, multimillion-dollar fund transfers go through immediately, and the FBI will unblinkingly dispatch dozens of agents to investigate a crime against literature.  Grisham’s fiction shares these qualities with other thrillers.  But what readers will recall from Camino Island are the scenes in which – as every writer and writing instructor teaches – Grisham writes about what he knows. 
Allen Boyer, Book Editor for HottyToddy.com, is a native of Oxford. He lives and writes on Staten Island, which is not a resort town. His book “Rocky Boyer’s War,” a WWII history drawing on his father’s diary, was published last month by the Naval Institute Press.
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ricardotomasz · 7 years
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Such is life! Behold, a new Post published on Greater And Grander about Commencement to America's Film Students
See into my soul, as a new Post has been published on http://greaterandgrander.com/2017/06/commencement-americas-film-students/
Commencement to America's Film Students
USC families, and families of USC.
  Students and faculty, faculty and students.
  That should take care of everybody.
  Well, I thought my razor was dull until I heard his speech. And that reminds me of a story that’s so dirty I’m ashamed to think of it myself.
  Those words were said by comedian and movie star Groucho Marx, not at the dawn of cinema… let’s just call it the breakfast time of cinema.
  He was a satirist and a scoundrel. A jester and a genius. Apart from Charlie Chaplin, he was the most notable and famous film star of the early 20th century.
  He was one of my idols growing up.
      Things to Keep In Mind From USC
  Don’t believe the USC fantasy they sell you. My screenwriting professor, Eddie Di Lorenzo, a 70 year old Italian curmudgeon said, “At USC, they sell you the fantasy.       They sell you the fantasy.”       And he was right. People are gonna tell you when you graduate, the USC mafia will take care of you, and you’ll soar in Hollywood, and there’ll be unicorn parks, and people will fart rainbows, and you’ll live happily ever after. If you want to succeed in Hollywood, know that this is just a first step, down a long and hard road, and you are gonna have to work harder, longer, and faster than anyone else just to get in the door. Which leads me to my second point…
Always push yourself. Because if you don’t push yourself and what you’re capable of doing, no one will.       No professor, no friend, no boss, will ever push you harder than you’re willing to go, so in order to climb that mountain, you’ve got to push yourself. That means volunteering. That means extra responsibilities. That means learning new technology and software.       And yes that means sacrifice every once in a while. And if you can’t cut pushing yourself, then you can’t cut this town; a town filled with egomaniacs, narcissists, and people insecure about the fact that they shouldn’t be there, and that’s just me.
Learn how to budget. Budget your money. Budget your time. And budget your favors.
Reach Out! Reach out to other students in other departments. Reach out to working professionals. Reach out to students in other film schools.       Because these college years are your time to grow, and no one can grow alone, and in the dark… well, maybe fungus.
Read. Don’t even buy a TV or an X-box until your junior year. Just read. Dive into books, and dive into movies. You’ll learn more reading about the lives of Sherry Lansing, Robert Evans, John Ford, and all the people who came before you, than by studying contemporary culture. If you came to college with them already, sell ‘em! And only take cash.
Fail! Don’t be afraid to fail. When you try things, you will stumble, and you will fall flat on your face occasionally. You know who’s failed lots of times? Me. I tried to get into USC film school three times before I was finally accepted, but with each rejection, I got back up, learned from my mistakes, and tried again. Because experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.
Work in the real world, because no matter how expensive that overzealous grad student makes his thesis, it will never be as good as a real production. When I attended USC, I was constantly reaching out to production managers to try and get them to hire me for weekend shoots. Sometimes I worked on these productions for free; and I wound up never hearing from these fly-by-night companies again.       Sometimes I worked for half-rate because I was green, and I wound up working with those people again.       And sometimes I agreed to work for free, and got a surprise envelope of cash on the last day because I worked so hard. These gigs were good, bad, and ugly, but all of them taught me something new.
Start keeping an address book. When I started film school, I put every contact I had in an Excel spreadsheet, which was great, until I discovered software like plaxo, which updated real address books automatically. Keep a real address book, and remember birthdays, family birthdays, anniversaries, and form real relationships with people, rather than just touch and go business relationships.
As far as actual practical filmmaking experience, I can tell you this:
Don’t jump into production unless your story is good.
Don’t just try to be clever with your student films.
Don’t use a deus ex machina.
Don’t rent too much gear.
Don’t rent too little gear.
Don’t lose sight of what makes a good film.
Don’t stab people in the back.
Don’t try to make “Gone With The Wind” on every production.
Don’t take an opportunity to make a film for granted.
Don’t take it personally when people criticize you or your work.
Don’t try to emotionally manipulate the rest of the crew.
Don’t spend too much money.
Don’t be an asshole.
Just out of school, I got a job working for Penny Marshall, and I quickly learned about her passion for sports. I couldn’t understand it, because I had always hated sports.       Too much energy for just a game.       And then one day I realized, it wasn’t the sport itself, it was the accomplishments of the individual players.       Everything they had to go through to get their brief moment of sunshine, was what she loved. As Larry Page, founder of Google said, “The best people want to work on the hardest projects.” And as Tom Hanks said in Penny’s film “A League of Their Own” “It’s the hard that makes it great.”
  But some of you aren’t gonna take this advice to heart. Some of you are gonna walk through these next four years, or two and a half if you’re a transfer student. Not taking advantage of this time, not quite sure what to do, a little scared of what your friends or parents would think.
  No longer a child, but not quite sure yet if you’re an adult, you have to realize that no one will, or needs to give you permission to become an adult. Only you can do that. So in that vain, everyone stand up. Stand up everybody, and raise your right hand!
  And Repeat after me.
  I do give myself permission…
  …To manage my career and my life…
  … To think critically and compassionately…
  …To ignore my friends and family when they’re wrong…
  …To follow my gut when I’m right…
  … To learn the difference between the two…
  …And to kick ass and take names, until the day I die.
      Students of the Class of 2000, fifteen years ago I sat where you sit now and I thought exactly what you are now thinking: What’s going to happen to me? Will I find my place in the world? Am I really graduating a virgin? I still have 24 hours and my roommate’s Mom is hot. I swear she was checking me out. Being here today is very special for me. I miss this place. I especially miss Harvard Square – it’s so unique. No where else in the world will you find a man with a turban wearing a Red Sox jacket and working in a lesbian bookstore. Hey, I’m just glad my dad’s working.
      It’s particularly sweet for me to be here today because when I graduated, I wanted very badly to be a Class Day Speaker. Unfortunately, my speech was rejected. So, if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to read a portion of that speech from fifteen years ago: “Fellow students, as we sit here today listening to that classic Ah-ha tune which will definitely stand the test of time, I would like to make several predictions about what the future will hold: “I believe that one day a simple Governor from a small Southern state will rise to the highest office in the land. He will lack political skill, but will lead on the sheer strength of his moral authority.” “I believe that Justice will prevail and, one day, the Berlin Wall will crumble, uniting East and West Berlin forever under Communist rule.” “I believe that one day, a high speed network of interconnected computers will spring up world-wide, so enriching people that they will lose their interest in idle chit chat and pornography.” “And finally, I believe that one day I will have a television show on a major network, seen by millions of people a night, which I will use to re-enact crimes and help catch at-large criminals.” And then there’s some stuff about the death of Wall Street which I don’t think we need to get into….
      The point is that, although you see me as a celebrity, a member of the cultural elite, a kind of demigod, I was actually a student here once much like you. I came here in the fall of 1981 and lived in Holworthy. I was, without exaggeration, the ugliest picture in the Freshman Face book. When Harvard asked me for a picture the previous summer, I thought it was just for their records, so I literally jogged in the August heat to a passport photo office and sat for a morgue photo. To make matters worse, when the Face Book came out they put my picture next to Catherine Oxenberg, a stunning blonde actress who was accepted to the class of ’85 but decided to defer admission so she could join the cast of “Dynasty.” My photo would have looked bad on any page, but next to Catherine Oxenberg, I looked like a mackerel that had been in a car accident. You see, in those days I was six feet four inches tall and I weighed 150 pounds. Recently, I had some structural engineers run those numbers into a computer model and, according to the computer, I collapsed in 1987, killing hundreds in Taiwan.
  After freshman year I moved to Mather House. Mather House, incidentally, was designed by the same firm that built Hitler’s bunker. In fact, if Hitler had conducted the war from Mather House, he’d have shot himself a year earlier. 1985 seems like a long time ago now. When I had my Class Day, you students would have been seven years old. Seven years old. Do you know what that means? Back then I could have beaten any of you in a fight. And I mean bad. It would be no contest. If any one here has a time machine, seriously, let’s get it on, I will whip your seven year old butt. When I was here, they sold diapers at the Coop that said “Harvard Class of 2000.” At the time, it was kind of a joke, but now I realize you wore those diapers. How embarrassing for you. A lot has happened in fifteen years. When you think about it, we come from completely different worlds. When I graduated, we watched movies starring Tom Cruise and listened to music by Madonna. I come from a time when we huddled around our TV sets and watched “The Cosby Show” on NBC, never imagining that there would one day be a show called “Cosby” on CBS. In 1985 we drove cars with driver’s side airbags, but if you told us that one day there’d be passenger side airbags, we’d have burned you for witchcraft.
      But of course, I think there is some common ground between us. I remember well the great uncertainty of this day. Many of you are justifiably nervous about leaving the safe, comfortable world of Harvard Yard and hurling yourself headlong into the cold, harsh world of Harvard Grad School, a plum job at your father’s firm, or a year abroad with a gold Amex card and then a plum job in your father’s firm. But let me assure you that the knowledge you’ve gained here at Harvard is a precious gift that will never leave you. Take it from me, your education is yours to keep forever. Why, many of you have read the Merchant of Florence, and that will inspire you when you travel to the island of Spain. Your knowledge of that problem they had with those people in Russia, or that guy in South America-you know, that guy-will enrich you for the rest of your life.
  There is also sadness today, a feeling of loss that you’re leaving Harvard forever. Well, let me assure you that you never really leave Harvard. The Harvard Fundraising Committee will be on your ass until the day you die. Right now, a member of the Alumni Association is at the Mt. Auburn Cemetery shaking down the corpse of Henry Adams. They heard he had a brass toe ring and they aims to get it. Imagine: These people just raised 2.5 billion dollars and they only got through the B’s in the alumni directory. Here’s how it works. Your phone rings, usually after a big meal when you’re tired and most vulnerable. A voice asks you for money. Knowing they just raised 2.5 billion dollars you ask, “What do you need it for?” Then there’s a long pause and the voice on the other end of the line says, “We don’t need it, we just want it.” It’s chilling.
      What else can you expect? Let me see, by your applause, who here wrote a thesis. (APPLAUSE) A lot of hard work, a lot of your blood went into that thesis… and no one is ever going to care. I wrote a thesis: Literary Progeria in the works of Flannery O’Connor and William Faulkner. Let’s just say that, during my discussions with Pauly Shore, it doesn’t come up much. For three years after graduation I kept my thesis in the glove compartment of my car so I could show it to a policeman in case I was pulled over. (ACT OUT) License, registration, cultural exploration of the Man Child in the Sound and the Fury…
      So what can you expect out there in the real world? Let me tell you. As you leave these gates and re-enter society, one thing is certain: Everyone out there is going to hate you. Never tell anyone in a roadside diner that you went to Harvard. In most situations the correct response to where did you to school is, “School? Why, I never had much in the way of book larnin’ and such.” Then, get in your BMW and get the hell out of there.
      You see, you’re in for a lifetime of “And you went to Harvard?” Accidentally give the wrong amount of change in a transaction and it’s, “And you went to Harvard?” Ask the guy at the hardware store how these jumper cables work and hear, “And you went to Harvard?” Forget just once that your underwear goes inside your pants and it’s “and you went to Harvard.” Get your head stuck in your niece’s dollhouse because you wanted to see what it was like to be a giant and it’s “Uncle Conan, you went to Harvard!?”
      But to really know what’s in store for you after Harvard, I have to tell you what happened to me after graduation. I’m going to tell you my story because, first of all, my perspective may give many of you hope, and, secondly, it’s an amazing rush to stand in front of six thousand people and talk about yourself.
  After graduating in May, I moved to Los Angeles and got a three week contract at a small cable show. I got a $380 a month apartment and bought a 1977 Isuzu Opel, a car Isuzu only manufactured for a year because they found out that, technically, it’s not a car. Here’s a quick tip, graduates: no four cylinder vehicle should have a racing stripe. I worked at that show for over a year, feeling pretty good about myself, when one day they told me they were letting me go. I was fired and, I hadn’t saved a lot of money. I tried to get another job in television but I couldn’t find one.
      So, with nowhere else to turn, I went to a temp agency and filled out a questionnaire. I made damn sure they knew I had been to Harvard and that I expected the very best treatment. And so, the next day, I was sent to the Santa Monica branch of Wilson’s House of Suede and Leather. When you have a Harvard degree and you’re working at Wilson’s House of Suede and Leather, you are haunted by the ghostly images of your classmates who chose Graduate School. You see their faces everywhere: in coffee cups, in fish tanks, and they’re always laughing at you as you stack suede shirts no man, in good conscience, would ever wear. I tried a lot of things during this period: acting in corporate infomercials, serving drinks in a non-equity theatre, I even took a job entertaining at a seven year olds’ birthday party. In desperate need of work, I put together some sketches and scored a job at the fledgling Fox Network as a writer and performer for a new show called “The Wilton North Report.” I was finally on a network and really excited. The producer told me the show was going to revolutionize television. And, in a way, it did. The show was so hated and did so badly that when, four weeks later, news of its cancellation was announced to the Fox affiliates, they burst into applause.
      Eventually, though, I got a huge break. I had submitted, along with my writing partner, a batch of sketches to Saturday Night Live and, after a year and a half, they read it and gave us a two week tryout. The two weeks turned into two seasons and I felt successful. Successful enough to write a TV pilot for an original sitcom and, when the network decided to make it, I left Saturday Night Live. This TV show was going to be groundbreaking. It was going to resurrect the career of TV’s Batman, Adam West. It was going to be a comedy without a laugh track or a studio audience. It was going to change all the rules. And here’s what happened: When the pilot aired it was the second lowest-rated television show of all time. It’s tied with a test pattern they show in Nova Scotia.
  So, I was 28 and, once again, I had no job. I had good writing credits in New York, but I was filled with disappointment and didn’t know what to do next. I started smelling suede on my fingertips. And that’s when The Simpsons saved me. I got a job there and started writing episodes about Springfield getting a Monorail and Homer going to College. I was finally putting my Harvard education to good use, writing dialogue for a man who’s so stupid that in one episode he forgot to make his own heart beat. Life was good.
      And then, an insane, inexplicable opportunity came my way . A chance to audition for host of the new Late Night Show. I took the opportunity seriously but, at the same time, I had the relaxed confidence of someone who knew he had no real shot. I couldn’t fear losing a great job I had never had. And, I think that attitude made the difference. I’ll never forget being in the Simpson’s recording basement that morning when the phone rang. It was for me. My car was blocking a fire lane. But a week later I got another call: I got the job.
      So, this was undeniably the it: the truly life-altering break I had always dreamed of. And, I went to work. I gathered all my funny friends and poured all my years of comedy experience into building that show over the summer, gathering the talent and figuring out the sensibility. We debuted on September 13, 1993 and I was happy with our effort. I felt like I had seized the moment and put my very best foot forward. And this is what the most respected and widely read television critic, Tom Shales, wrote in the Washington Post: “O’Brien is a living collage of annoying nervous habits. He giggles and titters, jiggles about and fiddles with his cuffs. He had dark, beady little eyes like a rabbit. He’s one of the whitest white men ever. O’Brien is a switch on the guest who won’t leave: he’s the host who should never have come. Let the Late show with Conan O’Brien become the late, Late Show and may the host return to Conan O’Blivion whence he came.” There’s more but it gets kind of mean.
      Needless to say, I took a lot of criticism, some of it deserved, some of it excessive. And it hurt like you wouldn’t believe. But I’m telling you all this for a reason. I’ve had a lot of success and I’ve had a lot of failure. I’ve looked good and I’ve looked bad. I’ve been praised and I’ve been criticized. But my mistakes have been necessary. Except for Wilson’s House of Suede and Leather. That was just stupid.
  I’ve dwelled on my failures today because, as graduates of Harvard, your biggest liability is your need to succeed. Your need to always find yourself on the sweet side of the bell curve. Because success is a lot like a bright, white tuxedo. You feel terrific when you get it, but then you’re desperately afraid of getting it dirty, of spoiling it in any way.
      I left the cocoon of Harvard, I left the cocoon of Saturday Night Live, I left the cocoon of The Simpsons. And each time it was bruising and tumultuous. And yet, every failure was freeing, and today I’m as nostalgic for the bad as I am for the good.
      So, that’s what I wish for all of you: the bad as well as the good. Fall down, make a mess, break something occasionally. And remember that the story is never over. If it’s all right, I’d like to read a little something from just this year: “Somehow, Conan O’Brien has transformed himself into the brightest star in the Late Night firmament. His comedy is the gold standard and Conan himself is not only the quickest and most inventive wit of his generation, but quite possible the greatest host ever.”
      Ladies and Gentlemen, Class of 2000, I wrote that this morning, as proof that, when all else fails, there’s always delusion.
      I’ll go now, to make bigger mistakes and to embarrass this fine institution even more. But let me leave you with one last thought: If you can laugh at yourself loud and hard every time you fall, people will think you’re drunk.
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