eacy



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  1. Public Bookmark 16

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    The terms of the treaty were this: Illilyl would come from the sea and marry Jem, and in return, Jem would carry Illilyl's children. Never mind that the men of Jem's race weren't generally capable of that.

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    19 Mar 2019

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “I’m sorry,” Georgia says slowly, like she thinks she misheard him. “You said you’re… married?”

    Amanda raises her eyebrows and taps something onto her keyboard. “That’s good to know, Mr. Zimmermann, but I’m sure you know that many of our players are married.”

    “Right, but this is… different.” Jack says.

    “Jack,” Georgia says, “Why did you never mention this before? Do I know your wife?”

    “I’m sure you do,” Jack says carefully, “Only… it’s not a wife. It’s Kent Parson.”

    ...

    (So what if they’re not pretending to be married. They’re still pretending to be happily married.)

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    07 Feb 2019

  3. Public Bookmark 29

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    20 Jan 2019

  4. Public Bookmark 33

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    From the way Fedorov is watching them expectantly, it's clear that he has no idea who they are or their relationship to each other, which is certainly a first.

    Kent looks like he's about to correct him, but Jack is hit with a wave of awkwardness. What would Kent even say? We're friends. We've met before. We planned for the exact situation you're in, once upon a time. We're cynical about love because we hurt each other so many times, and sometimes it was over that.

    Before Kent can say any of it, and they go back to being people who avoid each other at parties, Jack blurts out, "Jack Zimmermann, nice to meet you," and holds out his hand.

    Or, Jack and Kent are re-introduced, and pretend they don't know each other.

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    16 Jan 2019

  5. Public Bookmark 54

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    Kent can’t help it. He starts to laugh. This whole situation is fucked. He should have stayed in Boston. He should never have left Vegas in the first place. He’d figured it would be awkward to see Jack at the party, but he didn’t think he’d end up freezing to death with the guy in Vermont. He guesses there’s a certain sick poetry to that. Every time he’s made a calculated risk involving Jack, he’s gotten burned. He’s not accounting for all the variables correctly, like the fact that the universe hates him.

    “Kent.” Jack’s hand lands heavily on his back. He shakes him. “Come on. Kenny. Get it together.”

    “I’m going to kill you,” says Kent, into his hands. “I am literally going to murder you, Jack Zimmermann.”

    “No, you’re not,” mutters Jack. “You need me for body warmth.”

    Or: Kent gets invited to the book launch for Bad Bob's autobiography. Things don't exactly go as planned.

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    08 Jan 2019