#ALSO in retrospect i realize i interpreted this as interruptING declaration of love

[sionisjaune]

59. interrupted declaration of love + 90. unexpected virgin....? -kane :)

The way I've been seeing this url in my notes for WEEKS and did not put together that it was you... here you go:

Lewis is cooking dinner, monologuing about what happened when he met Rick Owens, how he tried on the giant acrylic platform heels and nearly tumbled flat on his face. Mick watches him gesticulate affably in front of the floor-to-ceiling kitchen window, the smoggy skyline of New York unfurling behind him. Mick clenches his fists under the table, listening to Lewis explain how he wants to try the shoes again, wants to practice in them so he can wear them through the paddock and piss the geriatric fucking oil barons off—Lewis’s words. Mick feels bad about interrupting, but he has to say it before he loses the nerve. 

“Lewis,” he says, abortively. He feels his cheeks heating. Now that he’s paused, it’s going to be a thousand times harder to get the words out. He sets his jaw and makes himself say it. The words exit his mouth in a jumble: “I have—feelings for you.” 

Lewis drops the spatula he was working with, and his head snaps towards Mick. Mick’s heart nearly arrests right there, under Lewis’s assessing gaze. The careful opaqueness of Lewis’s face is going to break his heart—Mick knows it. He readies himself for the worst possible reaction, which he figures will be pity. that someone like Mick loves someone like Lewis. 

Lewis blinks. The pan on the stovetop steams and sizzles. “Oh thank God,” says Lewis. “I thought I was wrong and that I invited you here for nothing.” He wipes his brow, cracking a relieved smile. Something tender and happy unfolds inside Mick’s chest. He watches Lewis flick off the stove while Mick’s hands shake, his fingertips pressed into his thighs. 

“Let’s not even bother with this,” says Lewis, nudging the pan off the stove. “I want to fuck you so badly. God. Can I say that?” 

All of a sudden Lewis is crossing the open-concept apartment, his bare feet on the ridiculously ornate tiles, and Mick is still frozen at the dining room table, distantly aware that his mouth has dropped open and that he must be staring at Lewis with awe in his eyes. It’s almost like he can’t believe it. He doesn’t believe it, even though he heard it from Lewis’s mouth. 

Lewis pauses half a metre away from Mick. Mick finds himself tilting his head up to look Lewis in the eye. 

“I thought Seb was going to kill me,” said Lewis. “I felt so… dirty? I haven’t felt that way for… at least a decade.” He takes another step towards Mick and reaches for Mick’s jaw. “Is this okay?” 

Mick feels himself nod. Then Lewis’s lips are meeting his, his mouth is opening to Mick’s, and Mick is hauling himself out of his chair to mold his body to Lewis’s while he kisses him. Lewis rakes a hand through Mick’s scalp, fingers closing around a fistful of hair, and Mick lets himself be led to the sofa. Lewis pushes him down onto it, their mouths never parting, and climbs on top of Mick. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” says Lewis, when he pushes Mick’s shirt up above his nipples. Mick experiences a double rush of arousal at the feeling of Lewis’s hand tracing his abdomen and the idea that Lewis thinks he’s hot. 

Lewis ducks back in to kiss him again, and feeling bold, Mick reaches around to hook a few fingers into the belt loops on Lewis’s jeans and pull his hips against Mick’s. Lewis groans, rolling his hips into Mick’s erection, and a shock of ecstasy pulses up Mick’s spine. He momentarily loses his coordination and finds his lips mouthing messily at Lewis’s beard. 

Lewis chuckles like it amuses him, and then his hand is slipping down Mick’s abs and towards the elastic waistband that’s peeking out of Mick’s jeans. “Tommy—I like it,” Lewis murmurs, into Mick’s neck. His hand travels further, thumbing over the button of Mick’s jeans, popping it open, and then—

“Wait,” says Mick, tearing his mouth from Lewis’s. “Just. Hold on a second.” He swallows, working up the nerve for the second time this evening. “I’ve… never. With a guy.” 

“Oh,” says Lewis, pulling back. There’s an impossible flush on his cheeks. His hand remains where it is. Mick swears that his pupils have dilated, that there's a crazed light shining behind his eyes. “Okay,” he tilts his head from side to side. “I can work with that.” He dives back in.

#trope mash up prompts #lewis/mick #ALSO in retrospect i realize i interpreted this as interruptING declaration of love

[douxreviews]

The Good Place - ‘Chidi’s Choice’ Review

“No more thinking, Chidi!”

About six months ago, I discovered a hardback copy of Sophie’s Choice on the remainder table at my local chain bookstore. Priced below five dollars, sporting a nifty vintage dust-jacket, and surrounded by discounted murder mysteries, the book looked lonely. And so I bought it, fully aware I would never read it, out of a sense of pity for the way the book’s plot (which I am familiar with) and its present circumstances (unchosen) intersected.

Stupid decisions like that should make us question the nature of free will. We may have infinite choices, but we rarely make a logical one. And, as the previous episode of The Good Place demonstrated, we are often, like Eleanor, trapped in our own personalities and habits. Breaking our patterns—whatever those patterns might be—is nearly impossible even once we start to recognize the patterns exist.

Chidi, as we’ve seen, has a pattern. He is a high-strung intellectual, incapable of making simple decisions, frozen in the face of…well, anything. His history of indecision (don’t forget his massive dissertation that switched arguments halfway through, and his inability to order soup), is both hilarious (it’s just soup!) and an amped-up statement about the decision fatigue that plagues modern existence.

And now he has three women to choose from.

The cascading declarations of love that precipitated that choice was hilarious: Eleanor decides to stop ghosting everybody and tells Chidi she loves him. Tahani, feeling betrayed by Jason’s revelation, also tells Chidi she loves him. And Real Eleanor just might be his true, assigned soulmate, which somehow doesn’t make the choice an easier.

The fallout was equally funny. I loved Eleanor and Tahani resisting the cliché of two women fighting over a man, and relying on a long-running (almost 30 episodes!) British television show for inspiration. Jason promptly realized he really loved Janet, and now they’re married. (Let’s all agree with Chidi’s “What?!” on that one.) And each woman gradually separated herself from Chidi, just as he seemed poised to make a real choice.

The result is a fast-paced comedy that evokes Lacan’s interpretation of Poe’s short story “The Purloined Letter”: it’s not the content of the letter that matters, but who possesses the letter. In “Chidi’s Choice,” it’s not the veracity of these various declarations of love, but the way they are tossed around like romantic hot potatoes.

“Chidi’s Choice” is also a nice view into Chidi’s own complexity. Reviewing this episode retrospectively, after the third season had aired, I was surprised to realize it wasn’t until “Chidi’s Choice” that we got the iconic flashbacks of Chidi unable to pick a soccer team, unable to choose a soup, and brained by an air-conditioner. Getting a glimpse of his life allows us to understand him a bit more in death.

The Ethical Ramifications of Various Soups:

• Chidi: “Oh, hey. It’s my three favorite yogurts.”

• Eleanor: “I’m not so much ‘hot for teacher’ as I am grateful for ‘semi-cute, surprisingly ripped teacher.’”

• I was so happy we didn’t have to spend much time with the folks from the Bad Place in this episode. They are tedious.

• You know who doesn’t have trouble making a decision? Jason. The episode opened with him quickly and concisely ranking all of the Fast and the Furious movies: “Number five is number one. Number seven is number two. Number three and number four are tied for number three….” If only Tahani hadn’t interrupted we would know what comes next…

Three out of four number ones

---

Josie Kafka is a full-time cat servant and part-time rogue demon hunter. (What's a rogue demon?)

#The Good Place #Eleanor Shellstrop #Chidi Anagonye #Tahani Al-Jamil #Jason Mendoza #The Good Place Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews