#A JERZ Love Story

[choicesficwriterscreations]

January Creator of the Month: Jerzwriter

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is CFWC's own @jerzwriter.  The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Complete Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? 

Elsa

More below...

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

It was sometime in 2017, and the first book I ever played was The Royal Romance, Book 1.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined a couple Facebook groups in 2019. I just wanted to discuss stories with others who were interested, as no one in my real life reads Choices. I didn't even know I was entering a fandom. lol I started reading fanfic on Tumblr the following year, but I found Tumblr intimidating, so I was mostly a silent reader. I didn’t start writing and contributing until May 2021, mostly because Open Heart was ending and I was in denial. 🙂

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

It’s pretty boring, actually. I’m from NJ, and I write. I wanted it to be JerZwriter, so people would know it is Jer-ZEE-Writer, but that wasn’t doable, so it’s Jerzwriter, and most think it is Jerz-Writer. Oh, well!  

4- Pull up the first and last posts in your archive, and tell us about them!  

My first post was the first chapter of my Ethan x Casey x Tobias love triangle, Delaying the Inevitable (OH).  It was my very first fanfic and I really didn't think I'd write anything beyond that.  I was so green back then, not only to fanfic but to the fandom as well. I’m really glad that I was naive because I don’t think I would have had the courage to post it if I had, but I’m glad that I did. 

My last post was Falling for You, a little drabble I wrote for Tobias x Casey (OH), and it featured a commission by the talented artist @weetlebeetle. It was a light, fun piece that took place early in Tobias and Casey's relationship, and it shows Tobias at his absolute simpiest. Lol 

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

Oh, how I wish I could draw, but I can't.  So, I’m strictly a writer. I may try giving drawing a go again, but I don't expect much to come of it. lol

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

Choices was the first fandom I ever wrote for, and I started in May of 2021.  So, just over two and a half years. I have written a little bit for some other fandoms since that time, but I primarily write for Choices.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Tough question.  I write for Open Heart, Crimes of Passion, and Wake the Dead, and they are three of my favorite stories. I also loved Desire & Decorum, but I never wrote for it.  Though, I’m planning a re-read, and you never know. 🙂

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was the first chapter of Delaying the Inevitable. I was so green when I started that series that I’m sure there are things I would change, but I’m still very proud of it.  That series will always have a special place in my heart.  I’d like to revisit it one day to “clean it up”, it could use some condensing. But I would never change the storyline.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

This is such an unfair question. lol The Delaying the Inevitable Series definitely comes to mind, but I’m also very proud of my Eli Sipes prequel stories, A Mother’s Journal, Coming Up Blank, and The End of the World. But Tobias and Casey are my favorite pairing, and I simply love the world I created for them. And while my headcanon for them is my favorite, I cannot pick just one fic for them, and I'm not going to! lol But, I've also written a bunch of AUs for them, and Friends* is one of my favorites.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

Yes, to both! The fandom is much smaller today, but back when we were more active, I learned you couldn't predict how a fic would be received.  There are too many to name, but I will say whenever my smut does well (and quite a few of them have), I’m always astounded. lol 

11-  If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

This is such a difficult question because I believe the best stories incorporate a little of each, and, as a writer, exploring all three helps spur creativity. Also, my absolute favorite is angst with a happy ending, so there is definitely some fluff in there (and I'm never mad at a little smut being thrown in!) But if I were forced to choose, it would probably be angst.  I think that's where I am strongest, and I just love raw emotion. I think that’s where character development really occurs. I have not written as much angst recently, and I miss it.  Perhaps I need a change in 2024. 

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are definitely parts of me in my MCs and OCs, but I do my best to prevent them from becoming self-inserts.  I'm not as cool as any of them, that's for sure! lol That said, I do find inspiration for my fics in real life, so there is bound to be a little crossover. When using real-life inspiration, I try to change details so that the fiction is not a carbon copy of the real-life event. Normally, by the time I'm done, they're hardly recognizable.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most? Where do you feel you are strongest?

I struggle most with setting a scene. Dialogue is my strong suit, and that just flows for me. It flows so much that sometimes I forget to describe what's going on around the conversation. I think this is particularly easy to do in fanfiction because so much of the "world" has already been provided for us, so I recognize this more when I'm writing original works.

The other thing I struggle with? Brevity. I know I can go on, and on, and on. lol I've gotten much better at this, but there is still room for improvement.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

(Elsa leaves the room, quietly crawls under her desk, and hides…) YES!!! Far, far too many, and no matter how much I share those posts that say, "You don't have to finish! If you're not feeling it, move on!" I don't believe it! lol I really want to make wrapping them up a priority in 2024.  But I also know writing - particularly good writing - cannot be forced.  So, it's a goal, but I'll only do it if I feel it’s right. 

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

It would depend on who asked.  I’m not ashamed of writing fanfic at all, but if I believed the person would be judgemental, I wouldn't be willing to share.  A few of my friends have read select pieces of my fanfic, and I’ve always received positive feedback from them. I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing more.  What I'd share would depend greatly on the person asking.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

There are many published writers that I admire, but I don’t think they've influenced my writing here. Within the fandom, there are many writers who have inspired me in different ways. There is no way I can ever name them all. But I'd like to give a shout-out to some.

@jamespotterthefirst and @bex-la-get were among the first writers I read when I joined Tumblr. I found their passion for both canon and the worlds they created inspiring, especially as Open Heart was nearing its end and all of us addicts needed our fill. Reading their works helped keep the story alive for me and so many others, and it inspired me to try my hand at it as well. To my shock, they were both so encouraging and supportive of me when I arrived, and I'm forever grateful. Back then, I thought they were rockstars - and they are! But now, they're also friends. I wasn't familiar with @alwaysmychoices from the start, but when I came across their work, I was just blown away.  Weekend with Dr. Ramsey will live rent-free in my head forever, and that headcanon about Charlie calling Ethan the night before she marries someone else. (I faint.) Ohhh, the delicious angst! The way she made me feel what Charlie felt was just mind-boggling, and it encouraged me to really dig into my character's emotions and bring them to life in a more meaningful way.

Early on, I read @utterlyinevitable, and the thing that impressed me the most was how Dom was willing to "write stories that “went "go there.”  They tackled issues that others wouldn't touch.  In their world, everything wasn’t perfect, including the characters themselves. I admired that vision and, frankly, bravery, and it definitely encouraged me to write what I wanted to and not what I felt was expected of me.

More recently, @mydemonsdrivealimo inspired me to explore parts of my MCs that I have not delved into in the past.  In particular, Casey's bisexuality. It can be challenging to represent a bisexual character when they are in a straight-presenting relationship, and you risk alienating readers no matter what you do (looking at all readers here.) So it becomes easier to be lazy and ignore it. But that's a disservice to the character as much as it's a disservice to people living similar situations in real life... like I have many times. Through MJ's writing and our conversations, they've helped me become more aware and do a better job in this regard, and I'm not even sure if they know this - it may totally be news to them lol - but I'm eternally grateful. Now, I feel my girl Casey is free, and OMG, how I love our characters playing together in HC now!

Then there are @lilyoffandoms and @storyofmychoices, who bring joy to all that they touch. Who knew when Lily created a little drabble putting our characters in a new world together, it would end up being one of the brightest fandom spots of 2023? Who knew that so much more would stem from that one work? Seriously, it's been one of the highlights of my fandom experience this year, and it's helped me to find inspiration at times when I felt like it was lost. Thank you both - I am so lucky to have you both here!

There are so many more I could mention, but I'd still forget people and feel horrible, so I want to take the chance to thank every writer in the fandom for sharing their gifts with us. Each of you is an inspiration in your own way; each of you can give someone an idea, and you have no idea where that spark will lead. So, never stop sharing!

17-  Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

Delaying the Inevitable, Friends*, All in the Past, and the WIP What’s Forever For. I also think some of my Ethan x Tobias works would have made for a good sitcom, and how I wish my Tobias x Casey friendship with Bryce x Jensen would be an epic sitcom. The world needs it! lol   (Jensen belongs to @mydemonsdrivealimo.)

19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

I do. Mostly shorter stories that will never see the light of day, but also some more substantive works... which will also never see the light of day! lol I wrote a novel-length political thriller some time ago. It would need a ton of work to bring it up to 2024, as the political landscape has changed so much. I also have two original WIPs I've been writing. One is an angsty story about a friendship that's loosely based on a childhood friend I lost to cancer a few years ago.  The other is a polyamorous romance about two best friends who fall for the same person. It's really a beautiful, emotional story. If I like the end result, maybe I'll let it see the light of day... maybe. lol

20-  What other hobbies do you have?

I enjoy theater, and I'm lucky enough to live in the best part of the world to partake in that.  I go to a lot of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and local theater productions. I also love going to concerts - they’re like group therapy! Trust me, I got more out of seeing Noah Kahan and Hozier in 2023 than I did from the entirety of sessions with my therapist - and I loved my therapist. lol

Prior to 2020, I did a fair amount of traveling, and I hope to start doing a little more this year.  But I have to admit, since the lockdown, I’ve become more of a homebody, and I like it, so we’ll see how that goes! 

I used to be very involved with activism and advocacy for women’s, lgbtq+, and mental health issues. I still am, but in a different capacity than I was in the past. These issues require people fighting for them, and doing so has always been a huge part of who I am, but it can be draining, and burnout is real. I really reached the end of my rope. So, nowadays, I work as a volunteer for a couple local organizations that really mean a lot to me. I'm not involved in grassroots efforts or taking trips to talk to legislators as often, but I'm helping people on a smaller scale, and that still goes a long, long way.

22: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

As most of you know, I’m one of the mods here at CFWC, so it was a little weird when my the wheel landed on my name.  But, honestly, it’s happened before, and I've just spun again, even though I am eligible. But this time around, I decided to do it. This fandom really means a lot to me, and I wanted to share a little more about myself and my crazy pixelated people.

I'm truly grateful to everyone in the fandom who does their part to make this a place that many, like me, still see as a place they want to be. We're smaller, it's imperfect, it has plenty of problems, but I am choosing to focus on the good... because there is much more of that than there is bad. So, thank you to each of you... and I hope we all have a wonderful 2024! xo

PS... My header... I know Tobias wasn't technically an LI... which was truly criminal. So, that's what fandom is for, fixing what canon effed up. lol My favorite canon LI is Trystan Thorne (COP). I tried adding their picture to the header alongside Tobias, but it looked terrible, so here I am. :)

Thanks for taking the time to read this, and I can't wait to highlight more of you in 2024! :)

[wags-confessions2k]

Sandra Jerze. I used to be the biggest Gnabry fan so I know some tea. The biggest irritation I got from Sandra is that she likes to identify as black. 💀 Like???? She is holding on that Ethiopian heritage for dear life. So she used to consider Gnabry and her’s relationship as “black love.” 💀 Plsss. It was hilarious but lowkey annoyinh because girl what is not clicking in your head? Anyways. The rumor about her and gnabry breaking up as reported by bild was Jerze got pregnant, Gnabry proposed (her friends posted ig story of her hand with engagement ring saying “congratulations!), then she told gnabry she was not sure if the kid was his, gnabry kicks her out of his villa, police got involved. It was a whole mess! Then when you look at her ig, it does not seem like she was ever pregnant to begin with. So it’s all so confusing and hilarious. Lmao. Last thing I know about her before I quit the Gnabry community is that she’s friends with jordan (benzema’s girl) and is apparently part of that group of girls who chase footballers. Like their friends who introduce and network each other among footballer circles. Something like that. Then I got so bored of the drama I quit. That’s all I know.

Anon here’s some info

[katamarilife]

(R3LL)

[jerzwriter]

This is not meant to be received as an anonymous hate message. My deepest apologies if this hurts your feelings, but since your fellow Open Heart fandom friends won’t be honest with you, I felt I should help you out the way I would want someone to help me.

We see you, Jerz. I promise we know you exist. You’ve got our attention. You are so obnoxiously showy, how can we not? And no one seems to have the heart to tell you this.

Your desperation to be acknowledged and seen by others is worrisome. You post when you wake up; you post when you add a word to your work; you advertise for your series “Delaying the Inevitable” morning, noon, night. Jerz, it’s a bit much. No one walks around, talking about how great they are or how great their accomplishments are the way you do. That might not be your intention, but when you post things, like your most recent post about your Asks and how many requests you have, this is seen as gloating.  I don’t know if you realize this, but when you post things like that, you might as well construct a giant neon sign that says, “Look at me! I am so popular!”

I’ve watched you for a few months now, and I know you and your friends are going to accuse me of jealousy. I’m not, but I understand why you would see me that way. But honestly, not many people would idolize someone who is tactless, brash, and selfish. This is how you come across to a lot of people. You might actually be a wonderful person. I would never know because you seem quite self-absorbed and a braggart. Are you familiar with the term “one-upper?” 

I am going to give credit where credit is due: you have hustled your ass off and went straight for the jugular, making sure everyone knew your presence is valuable, including the more higher-rated writers. You can’t comment or reblog anything without marketing yourself and your own work. You clearly are your number 1 fan, and I think that’s great that you have so much confidence in yourself.

You’re probably thinking “What’s the point of this message?” Seriously congratulations to growing number of readers and your fans; congratulations on having such a high view of yourself; congratulations on networkinging with such confidence and zero Fs.

But this honest thirst to be the center of attention, I promise we see you, Jerz. We know you’re there. And how could we not? We know you are going to have the last word. We know that you are going to comment on any post related to Open Heart, especially if it’s about a thirst trap concerning Ethan or Tobias. You post every time you wake up, or when inspiration strikes, or when a certain food or song or movie reminds you of your couples. 

You don’t have to share everything. This is not meant to be hateful, but I hope you become more aware of your actions so you can become a better person.

And I already know what you are going to say. I will unfollow. I truly enjoyed your stories.

I’ve sat on this.  I wasn’t going to share because I want my blog to be a positive place.  Plus, everyone has people who dislike them, so why give my haters porn? But, in the end, I need to say a few things (“getting the last word” Nonny?) and it’s important for people to know that such small and cowardly people lurk among us.

You admit you don’t know me, yet you sure act as if you do.  I’m not quite sure how that works.

I am passionate.  If I love something, I am enthusiastic to a fault and I give it my all, and I love our fandom.  I love creating content, I love reading others’ works and building them up and, no, Nonny, when commenting or reblogging I don’t “always self-promote”.  Sometimes I will discuss my work if it is relevant, usually with people I consider friends.  I did find one reblog from the past week that some may have misconstrued.  I deleted it and reached out to the author to apologize.  I have not heard back from her, but I hope she understands there was no mal intent. I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash if she had done the same thing to me.

I am pretty self-aware.  I know I can be annoying.  I’m zealous and I overshare.  There are personal reasons for that, but it’s who I am.  Friends who do know me laughed at your assertations.  They know I’m my own worst critic, I’m full of self-doubt, and I deal with crippling anxiety.  They also know that being part of this “supportive” (for the most part) community has helped me.  How kind of you to attempt to thwart that.  What you know about me is nothing and your belief that you do speaks volumes to how highly you think of yourself.  Isn’t that what you’re accusing me of?

Like every writer, I want people to read my work, and I love engaging with readers.  But networking? Convincing “higher-rated writers” to like me? Girl, stop.  This isn’t my job.  I don’t get paid for this.  This is fanfiction.  It’s fun! Dear God, do you take it that seriously? Yes, I’ve become friends with people.  People behind popular and small blogs, people who are readers.  I assure you that building these friendships had nothing to do with networking.  We got to know each other, like and care for each other, and we’ve been there to support each other when we need it most.  It looks like some people find me likable, and I know how to be a friend.  If you struggle with that, I suggest you look for the reason instead of attacking me.

You state you have “watched me for a few months now.”  Yet my behavior is worrisome? It seems my post apologizing for having so many outstanding anons triggered you.  You assumed I was trying to say  “look at me I’m so popular”.  I had to laugh.  First off, popular?  Look at my note count, it’s nothing to be jealous of.  I posted it because the majority of requests sitting in my inbox are anons that I can’t reach out to personally or I would.  My readers REALLY matter to me, and I don’t want anyone to think they’ve been forgotten.  The fact that your mind goes to such a horrible place, about an admitted stranger, is pathetic.  It speaks to who you are, not me. 

Look, I’m not everyone’s cup of tea… and that’s OK.  I’m sure you’re not either.  That’s life.  But you send this hate, and to be clear, it is hate, thinking you’re a better person? What have I done to hurt anyone in this fandom? Tell me.  I’ll wait.  I’ve never done anything as vile as you. Do you feel you can sit in judgment of me?  That you have the moral superiority to tell me to be a better person when your actions already show what kind of person you are? The irony!  If anyone needs reflection, it’s you.

I strongly suggest you think twice before doing something like this to anyone else in the future.  I have been through enough in my life to let this roll off my back, but not everyone can.  Some people could be terribly hurt, or harm themselves if they received something like this.  Dear God, examine yourself.

[scribbling-stiks]

Retrievers - XXX - Calm Down

Russia wakes up the next morning, sore. He groans and turns over and sees America sleeping soundly. Russia smiles and admires America's face, using his thumb to brush America's cheek. America hums and nuzzles into Russia's hand.

Russia finds himself purring, and he doesn't have it in him to stop. America giggles a little and presses his face into Russia's chest. Russia laughs to himself and gently gathers America into a hug. America giggles again.

Heavy knocking interrupts them, and Russia scoffs playfully.

"Are y'all awake?" Alabama asks loudly from the other side of the door.

"Yes, we're awake," America calls, causing Russia to jump.

America laughs, and Russia looks away, his face warm.

Russia sits up and pulls America up with him. He hugs America tenderly and America tucks his head into Russia's chest. Russia leans over and litters America's face with gentle kisses. America hides his face further.

Russia pulls back, and America looks up with him a huge, brilliant smile. Russia smiles back. Russia gets up and throws on some clothes. When he throws his hat on, he sees a few bits of glitter falling from it.

Russia scoffs and hears America shuffling around and getting dressed. Russia turns back and sees America struggling to get a shirt on. Russia walks over with a gentle smile and holds out his hands. America looks away and hands over the cloth.

Russia lifts it up and helps America get it on. He pulls it over America's face and America smiles up at him.

"Thank you," America says.

Russia smiles. He stands up and helps America to his feet. America coos and leans into Russia's arm. Russia grabs his and America's backpacks and they walk out and into the hallway.

"Hi Dad," Alabama says, "could you... help for a second?"

"Help with what?"

"York is having a hard time, and Jersey is trying but it ain't working."

America looks up to Russia with a startled look.

'Don't worry, I'll help you.'

America nods, almost in response, and Russia walks with America up to the bedroom upstairs. The second they get up the stairs and open the door, Russia spots New York sitting on his lower bunk, curled up and holding Jersey's hand.

'He's shaking.'

America pulls away and stumbles over to the bed. He sits next to New York, and Russia hovers nearby.

"Heya kiddo," America says gently.

New York hums and turns away.

"Is it okay if I touch your hand?" America asks.

New York shakes his head violently.

"Okay. That's okay. Do you want me here?"

There is a small pause and then New York slowly nods.

"Okay. Do you know where you are?"

New York mumbles something that Russia can't make out. America hums.

"Can you tell me who's in the room right now?"

New York looks up and looks around. His cheeks are tear-stained, and his eyes are red. Russia's heart sinks at the terror and pain in the teen's face.

"Me, Jerz, Dad, and Russ."

"Okay. Take a deep breath, okay?"

New York takes a shaky breath and coughs. America hums and reaches out to rub his shoulder, but pulls back before touching him.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you sing that song? Please?"

"Okay."

America takes a deep breath, and if Rusia is honest, he really doesn't know what to expect. But when America opens his mouth with a very sweet, high-pitched tone that seems to fill the room.

New York holds his head for a moment, but the shaking in his shoulders begins to slow.

'I wonder where that's from.'

New York takes a deep breath and pulls away from New Jersey. New Jersey stands up and backs away. New York then, without looking up, clings desperately to America. America grimaces and covers his mouth. New York just shakes quietly. America bites his fingers and tears gather in his eyes.

'Shit, is he hurt again?'

Russia puts a hand on America's shoulder and rubs his back. After a few moments, New York pulls away and takes a deep breath. Then, New York rubs his face and smooths out his hair.

"Okay. I'm fine now," New York says seriously with a deep breath.

"You're sure?" America asks, but his pain creeps into his voice.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Dad, are you okay?" New Jersey asks.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. My ribs are just... not great," America chirps from behind grit teeth.

"Shit! I'm sorry!" New York says, pulling away forcefully.

"It's okay, kiddo. I'll be okay. You needed a hug," America replies.

Russia flinches.

"You shouldn't let me hurt you," New York snaps back, "you're important too."

America shrugs, and anger bubbles in Russia's gut.

"You are worth so much," Russia explains, "we care about you. We can help you. Tell us if there is an issue, please."

"I... Okay."

"What hurts you right now?" Russia asks, sitting down on the mattress.

"Uhm...isitokaythatIdon'twantanyhugsoranythingforalittlewhile?" America rambles quickly, looking at the floor and fidgeting with his hands.

"What?" Russia asks, not registering the words.

"Is it okay that I don't want any hugs or anything for a little while?" America asks, his voice breaking, "it just hurts a lot."

"Okay," Russia replies, pulling his hand away.

"Okay?" America asks, his hands shaking.

"I will respect that," Russia says, "it's what you want."

America looks away and his eyes fill with tears. Russia's heart shattered.

"Is that okay?" Russia asks, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yeah," America says, his voice cracking, "it's just new."

'"New"?'

Russia looks around to see New York and New Jersey looking on. They look sad, but also hopeful.

"Is there anything that you want me to do?"

"Kissing is nice, and sitting with you is too, but I don't want to be picked up until my chest is better. Ifthat'sokay," America says, the last words merging together in a panicked rambling.

"Okay," Russia replies.

He knew he would miss being able to scoop America up into his arms, but he knew that he would do anything to make America happy.

"Is there anything you want me to do?"

"Just don't cover my eyes," Russia says.

America nods determinedly. Russia smiles.

"I think I'm going to find Tuck," New York says, leaving the room.

New Jersey stops at the top of the stairs and makes eye contact with Russia. Then, New Jersey smiles brightly and gives him two thumbs up.

"Jersey?" New York calls.

"Coming," New Jersey calls back, running down the stairs and shutting the door behind him.

America sighs.

"Meri?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you mean by 'it's new'?"

America sighs and rubs his face. He groans.

"I... it's a long story."

"I'm interested," Russia replies patiently.

America sighs.

"That old girlfriend," America shivers, "she... she was... I was never able to make any choices for myself. I thought it was normal. If she wanted money, sex, anything, I gave it and more because I didn't know what else to do. And for most of it, I wasn't even sure if anything was actually happening. I thought I was getting upset over something."

The anger in Russia's stomach swirls.

"I had to prove I loved her..."

Russia takes a deep breath through his nose and sighs.

"You shouldn't have to prove anything," Russia says, trying to hide his anger.

America guffaws and looks away.

"I love you. And I know you love me. You don't need to do anything you don't want to," Russia asserts.

America hums.

"Sometimes, it feels like I have to," America blurts out.

"You don't," Russia responds, "and please tell me if I ever make you feel like you have to."

"You don't," America assures him, "I'm just not sure what to do sometimes because I want to make you happy, but you... you don't demand things and..."

Russia resists the urge to hug America. He hugs himself instead. America sighs and laughs a little.

"I hope I'm not being too much," America confesses.

"You aren't," Russia promises.

"Really?"

"Of course."

"My rambling isn't annoying?"

"Never. It's fun to listen to."

America offers a watery, blinding smile.

"I'm sorry. I just... I... It's hard to get used to."

Russia hums.

'If I ever find out who that woman is, she is dead.'

"We need to get packed up and head out!" Dixie exclaims from downstairs, "Come on y'all! Let's go!"

~

Next

Previous

Table of Contents

[casualblasphemy]

The Jerz 2018 | frozen love story (at Westwood, New Jersey)

[theothercourse]

Down with Love - Chapter 4

TITLE:  Down With Love CHAPTER NUMBER: Chapter 4 AUTHOR: theothercourse WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: In the winter of 2011, Tom returns to New York City for the War Horse premiere and visit his Broadway singer ex-girlfriend, hoping to rekindle their flame. Deep in denial, she struggles with his reappearance in her life and his desire to overcome the obstacles that forced them apart more than once since they fell in love almost two years ago. These two ambitious and successful actors fight their families, careers and each other along the course of true love. And in the words of Shakespeare himself, the course of true love never did run smooth. RATING: Mature (NSFW chapter - reunion sex and a ton of angst) AUTHORS NOTES:  Sequel to The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth 

Book Cover - Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Down with Love

         New York City, December 5, 2011

The Taylor Family Bakery stood in between Wexler’s Stationary Store and Samson’s Photography on Main Street in Cold Spring, New York the last time I laid eyes on the place. The only bakery within a twenty mile radius served a few small towns for residents and weekend visitors a little over an hour by train from New York City. The brick face structure had been built in the 1800s, and looked like it. All the businesses on the block had been retrofitted from something else and now served to fulfill the needs of a community of around 2000 souls, the quintessential everyone knew everybody else’s lives kind of town.

 I attended school with the Wexler twins and the postmaster’s son and the grocery store manager’s daughter. My parents didn’t contribute much to the community or participate beyond the doors of the bakery, only if and when it served the good of the business. They were hands off people, and it translated to them as parents to me. All their efforts served the bottom line, and keeping the money in the black instead of the red. Those were constant phrases I heard as a child, red meant danger, black meant less stress and oppressive tension around the house.

Because my parents were absent from me as a child, I found people and places I fit in, even as a six year old until I found my voice, my love for the stage, and my desire for a round of applause. I didn’t wander far from the backroom of the bakery, where I was put with a coloring book or a toy, anything to entertain a small child without supervision. Instead I ventured out into the neighborhood, Main Street, and found myself in Cold Spring’s only pizzeria, owned and operated by an older Italian woman who traded her disco roller skating rink in New Jersey for tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese in the early ‘80s in Upstate New York.

Everyone called her ‘Mama Raina’ though the licenses for her restaurant had been issued to Julie Caruso. All her stories began with ‘When I cashed out in dirty Jerz…’ It was her catch phrase, and she’d been well settled in as the neighborhood hangout before the bold and bored six year old version of me found the place. I visited every day after school, attracted to the strange but colorful marriage of 70s disco glam and 80s electric pop music atmosphere that exuded from inside. Record album covers littered the walls, collages of top 10 singles decorated the cheap laminated tables, and music blared from a black boom box in the back corner. I learned early on not to touch the underside of the table, all sticky with abandoned pieces of pink and green chewing gum.

When the high school kids survived past the 3pm end of the day bell, the popular set all funneled in and crowded into Mama Raina’s for a slice and a soda, burning two or three hours before flitting off home to their white collar, working class parents for family dinner. Because it was such a small almost-tightknit community, at six years old, I became an honorary teenager, with Mama and the dozen or so teenagers watching after me. They all knew who I was and where I’d come from, and adopted me as little sister between the hours of 3pm to 6pm on weekday afternoons.

One particular afternoon remained burned into my memory. Seated in the back booth, I could still remember the smell of the garlic knots and the well-cooked tomato sauce and the Hawaiian punch from the teenagers’ snacks. As most afternoons went, everyone including Mama sang along with the boom box, cranked to 10, playing whichever popular song of the week. It was the regular activity to blow off steam and create a cohesive sound, singing along with the radio.

Whitney Houston’s Where Do Broken Hearts Go made the cut, and it was the first song that I remembered learning the lyrics to, after so many afternoons in Mama Raina’s sanctuary. The teenagers were so proud when I sang along, and they all shook my hand or ruffled my hair with affection. That was the day I felt included somewhere, with likeminded people, treated like an equal. I mattered.

Twenty years later, as I rested against the Marriott Marquis Hotel’s down pillow, folded in the arms of the man I loved, I mattered. To him. Starring into Tom’s eyes, our bare legs threaded through each other’s, I counted for something. My hands were tucked up under my head as I faced him. The smile upon my face pushed through the hesitancy of spending time with him, and being intimate with him again.

Straight white teeth peeked out from behind the ginger goatee as a matching gleeful expression met mine. “Did I really put a smile on your face?” The raspy bedroom pillow talk continued to be Tom’s strong point.

“You did,” the giddy bubbling inside me made that smile grow, and a truthful confirmation for him.

The afterglow of our lovemaking found us snuggled beneath the sheets with the bedside lamps on, so we could see our reunion glow.

“Where did you go just now?” he asked mimicking my relaxed pose.

“Mama Raina’s. Whitney Houston singing in the background.” In our time together, I rarely talked about my childhood. Not from shame or embarrassment, but simply, for me, my life began when I found theatre and the acceptance that I found within that community.

Tom acknowledged it with a silent nod, sensing that it was ancient history and he didn’t want to tread there unless I led the way. Instead he brushed locks of my hair behind my ear and behind my shoulder, baring my neck. His fingers lingered at my naked shoulder, an internal debate playing behind his eyes: to ask or to listen.

“My composer—the one who wrote Bonnie and Clyde—Frank, he wrote one of her songs, one of her hits. Whitney Houston, I mean. It actually went to number one here. It—I used to sing it as a kid with a bunch of older teenagers that, well… babysat me.” I avoided the topic of family since that was a sensitive subject between Tom and me, something that came between us more than once. “Can you imagine it? I get to sing his score, and I listened to his songs on the radio. Me!” I said with incredulity.

“Why not you?” His British pronunciation ticked my inner ear. If it were possible to fall in love with the sound of one single word, it was Tom’s ‘not.’ The nasally resonance made my heart pitter patter a quickstep. “You’re extraordinarily gifted.”

I giggled airily at his compliment and his subtle approach, closing the shallow gap between us. “Tom, thank you… but what I meant to say—it blows my mind! A composer, that one on the radio back then, wrote a song. For me. I get to perform his songs every night. They pay me to do that. And a room full of people, almost 1000 people, listen to me sing his songs.”

I mattered then as I mattered in the arms of this man. He made me feel that.

“You’ve been with this show… since… April was it?” He flattened his hand to the small of my back, maintaining our positions but eliminating the gap between us. The king-size bed nearly swallowed us up and the bedclothes glued us together.

“I’ve been attached as Bonnie since then- when Daddy Long Legs closed-when I saw you—“

He interrupted me with a kiss on the lips before I could rehash that painful part of our history. When we were apart…

Changing the subject, I explained how the past year had gone though he’d been there for some of it. “1776 was a limited run, and playing Martha was fun, a different pace from Bonnie. Peppy and lively, Martha was, and Bonnie is spirited and loyal. Martha gave me a reprieve from the darkness in Bonnie and Clyde.” I reached out and touched the bristles of his goatee. I was used to scruff on him, the day or two old stubble, but not the full on facial hair that Tom sported.

“I liked you in that one too,” he complimented evenly rolling me over onto my back. The aroused man positioned himself between my legs and propped himself over me. “Are you enjoying that?”

My fingers played and softly yanked at the brush of hair on his face, enchanted by the coarse yet ticklish feel of it.

*

Smirking into another pass of Kristiane’s fingers over my whiskers, I told her plainly, “Henry.”

Her eyes lifted to mine almost in surprise. With a coquettish grin, she reminded, “No, I’m Kristie. Expecting someone else?” Her foot grazed up the back of my leg inching her way to hook around my waist, her body language asking for physical affection. She wanted me again.

The gesture went straight to my groin with a jolt, the knowledge that this woman wanted another go of it excited the masculine and primal part of my being. Blood drained from my brain to my cock fueling my lust for her, but the need to talk with her stayed strong. “Clever that, but I meant the facial hair, the moustache and beard, they’re for Henry.”

Playing coy, she grinned wider, “And I thought it was for me.” She brought my face down to hers and licked the shell of my ear. “I’ve been enjoying the burn.”

Fuuuccckkk.

Maybe this wasn’t the time for talking. In our history, I had to break down her defenses and grant her patience to get her to honestly open up to me. I did want to revel in her, every bit of her, in the physical and philosophical sense. Her feminine and sexual side were a temptation, a best kept secret that she only shared with me, and I was blessed for it.

Brokenly, while laying claim to her neck, working my way down, I breathed, “The BBC—the… Hollow Crown—Henry the fifth…”

Her breath hitched and caught when my lips made contact with her breast, kisses and scrapes left along the path from her cheek southbound. “…Shakespeare,” she moaned, identifying and making the connection to our conversation. Another moan, and her meaning changed, “My Shakspeare.”

I was hers, from that first note I heard her sing at a friend’s birthday party before careers and family and friendships got in the way. The woman brazenly took to the stage with a karaoke microphone in hand and sung a song written for a man and made it her own. As confident as she was performing in front of a room full of people, she’d shown me her inquisitive and sensitive self, her vulnerability and her intelligence. She captured my heart and my imagination within a few short days and enriched my life.

Where I was confident in wanting her for the rest of my life, she needed convincing. I didn’t understand her aversion to marriage, but I was determined to bring her around. We were too good together, and we understood each other’s lives outside us as a couple. I rose above her, assuming a bruising kiss, anxious to change her mind about our future. It wouldn’t become just another night of sex, amazing mind-blowing, life-altering sex. I could get her to see beyond her fears and know that I’d be there to support her if she fell.

I kissed her until we were both out of breath and she smiled again for me. “I shouldn’t like this,” she touched my chin, tugging at the facial hair there, “as much as I do, but it’s sexy. You’re sexy and it’s rough and scratchy, but I want to feel it everywhere.” Kristiane had never been shy or ashamed of her sexual appetite, once we’d been together. Cautious with new positions or locations or experiences, she followed my lead, knowing she could trust me and I’d never abuse that trust. I’d been the first man to go down on her.

Hearing her desire to be devoured in sensation, the grounding and real pleasure-pain of tender worshiping kisses and the chaffing burn of prickly beard, spurned me into action like a race car when the flag drops. Kristiane applied pressure to the gas pedal and I took off with 900 horsepower behind me. Groaning at the strain in my cock, I gruffed, “Details, woman and I’ll do it. Every explicit detail.”

A flame of acceptance lit behind her eyes, a fierce loyalty and willingness to show me her choice. Her arms circled above her head into the folds of the pillows, her right hand holding her left wrist in a tight grip. “Pin me to this bed and make me squirm, make me feel it. Your tongue, your teeth, your lips, your skin, your hair, your scruff, your fingers, your hands, your cock—all of you on me.” Without shame and hesitation, she possessed all the beauty in the world, especially when she asked for sexual gratification.

My knuckles grazed along the inside of her thigh towards her sex and then teased away from her cleft. Like a siren, her heat called to me. “The first solo you sang tonight, what was it?”

The blush of arousal rose from her chest up her neck into her cheeks, her skin luminous with the color of a rose. Her hands splayed over my chest as if to push me away but it turned into a caress, her thumbs playing along the patch of hair in the middle, and her fingertips stroking my nipples. Her mouth opened slightly in invitation, the expression of heightened want. “Touch me.” An urgent plea. A pressing beg.

I licked her lower lip before dipping my tongue within her mouth swiftly, only a brief taste. “Sing for me and I’ll do everything you crave.” My hand slid back up her thigh and swiped a light caress over her center.

“How ‘Bout a Dance?” her tone light, following my question about her song… just barely. The provocative touch stealing her train of thought, focusing on my hand instead of the song she knew in her blood.

“Yes,” I encouraged, ghosting my facial hair across her cheek. “You sang it beautifully.” If the woman wasn’t naked beneath me, I might’ve been a bit more articulate but it took more than enough effort to say that. “Us—” I sunk my teeth into her shoulder, marking her as I had earlier. “I heard us in that song.”

The lyrics spoke to me while I watched her portray Bonnie Parker in Bonnie and Clyde, and her voice had been silvery and sweet, crisp and clean.

“How ‘bout a dance? What do you say? I’ve got some moves… that I’d love… to show… you. Let’s find a spot… and dance the night away,” she sang quietly just for me.

The attempt to sing through my enticement on her skin was impressive at first but descended into heavy breathing as I trailed down her body with my tongue from her neck to the crease between her legs. I scraped my goatee along her flesh as she asked me to, behind the moist path.

Her fingers combed into my hair and held me fast against her damp slit. Her thighs clamped against my cheeks, my beard undoubtedly prickling the sensitive flesh pressed around my face. I pushed the flat of my tongue against her, savoring the tang of her wetness.

*

New York City/London, August 22, 2010

“Tom, we haven’t been the same since Paris,” Kristiane’s voice lost some of her pep that I longed to hear. The tension between us, the strain of the distance and the stress of our last two days together ate away at her confidence in our relationship, and it tore me up. The time difference and the difficulty finding a slot for us, just to talk around dying mobile batteries and overheating phones.

She didn’t understand – couldn’t understand what was happening, how could she when I barely understood it myself? I inhaled slowly, taking in the oxygen, letting the fresh evening air fill my lungs. I swirled the last of my drink around the bottom of the glass. This vivacious woman felt even further away than the 3000 plus miles between us, and I loathed each and every emotional mile that separated us.

Solemnly, I replied, “I know.” The truth was I knew it wasn’t entirely her fault, and it certainly wasn’t mine. Neither one of us could’ve anticipated this when we got involved. I think I heard her heart break at the admission when she hissed as if in pain. Because if allowed myself to admit it, she was in pain. This wasn’t what I wanted for her, especially not so close to her birthday. She deserved all the happiness and all the smiles, but I kept the frown on her face.

She was quiet for a long time, looking for something concrete to hold onto while she felt like she was suffocating or drowning. I heard every splinter of her shattered heart when she finally spoke again. “Are we breaking up? Is that what this is?”

Under all the hurt, the feisty girl was fighting for her place in all of this, but I knew that her pain could bury her and leave her as the girl I met a year ago, broken, afraid, searching for a friend. “Kristie, I don’t want that. You know how much you mean to me.” I stood up, unable to sit still any longer, doing nothing but nursing my drink.

“Tom, please… tell me what’s going on. I’m losing you.”

I couldn’t deny it. Part of me disconnected from her and I despised that. I was utterly in love with her, and I wanted her in my life, but a small part of me wondered if we could survive.

“I’m sorry… unreservedly sorry. But I question where—Kristie, us… where we’re going…”

“Tom, you’ve got me as long as you want me. We’re together.”

I didn’t say anything as the issues swirled around my head in a jumbled mess. My feet beat a worn tread in the hotel carpeting from my pace back and forth. The walls seemed to close in on me as my heart seized in my chest. No words came, no denial, no confirmation, no comfort.

Instinctive Kristie picked up on the silence immediately. “We’re together, right?”

Again, I let the question stay there, fester like it had since Paris, since London, since my mother laid into Kristiane. I couldn’t answer for sure. I adored this woman, but she confounded me. Yes, we were dating, as much as two people could, living in two different countries with an ocean between us. But together? I wasn’t so sure.

Panic rose in her voice, “Tom, we’re together, right?”

I paced another lap in my hotel room, seeking sanctuary from the chill air, knowing that the cold came from the inside, not the August evening. “Kristie, I’m not certain…”

“What is happening?” Her vulnerability and apparent agony seared through me. “Why is this happening?” Her tears soaked her voice, the melody broken and disjointed in her torment.

I hated my doubt and I hated myself for putting her through this. “Kristie, my love, I’m having a rough go of it. I- this- I want… that- we’re moving towards something.”

The vision and memory of her crying at the airport taunted me, knowing from the shaky labored breaths she took that I’d put those tears in her eyes again. This sensible, composed woman was a shadow of who she was because of me.

“What are you saying, Tom? We’re working to be together in the same country.”

“To what end?”

“I’m uh- mmm- I don’t understand, Tom. Don’t you want that? Please… what is happening with us?”

I sighed into the phone, her belief in us rocked, the fallout of something in her inhale. “Kristie, I… what you said… to my mum… I don’t think we are.”

[pressingtobinheath]

Do you think they would ever move sky blue ? I mean attendance is not improving and it's not got a huge following ... I mean they have two of the best players in the world and you would never know 😭I love jerz tho

well they were gonna be with Red Bull once upon a time but story goes that they fucked it up 🤷🏼‍♀️ so who really knows.

[dennisjerz]

The Staying Power of “A Christmas Carol” — Dennis Jerz, for WAOB Audio Theatre What makes WAOB Audio Theatre's production of "A Christmas Carol" unique? Why is the story so well-loved? Voice actor and English professor Dennis Jerz discusses all this and more!

[arntrela]

Club Heat 0012: R3LL, Ace Mula, Jakkz, Casement (UK), Team Lil Man,

2017 was a great year for club music, it seems to only get better with some of the heat that released in the past few days. We most recently discovered new bass, club driven talent from the UK- Casement. Jersey natives R3LL, Ace Mula, and Jakkz have been releasing game changers. R3LL most recently released his EP “A Jerz Love Story” on DIM MAK. Ace Mula has been on a roll with heavy jersey club…

[ihouseucom]

#housemusic A JERZ Love Story EP http://dlvr.it/QBYpH6

[iplusfrequency]

R3LL - A JERZ Love Story EP http://ift.tt/2mziaKZ

[katamarilife]

(R3LL)

[katamarilife]

(R3LL)

[katamarilife]

(R3LL)

[arntrela]

R3LL EP: A Jerz Love Story

Out today, Certified resident & Original Brick Bandits member R3LL, releases his new EP with Dim Mak records. “A Jerz Love Story,” is a strong progression both musicially & lyrically for not only R3LL, but the entire Jersey Club sound. R3LL collaborated with several unique and talented artists on this EP including Uniiqu3, TT the Artist, Chris Jane, Pure 100%, Bleszt & Bell Rock. As one of the…