#mama park seems like a lovely person based on that i land call and the en log

[02zhoonie]

jay knowing what his mum’s manicure smells like makes me think she probably used to bring him along to the nail salon and now he probably treats his mama right by treating her with manicures from time to time because have u seen her nails hehe 🥰🥰🥰 i just know this man knows how to treat a girl right and i can only thank mama park for that 🫣

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff & @punkkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 16:

Hours after Noelle Landed in Montreal, Thomas and Clay landed in New Orleans. A few hours ago Clay’s parents dropped his truck off at the airport so he could take Thomas around the city to see his favorite places. They didn’t bring much just carry on backpacks, so walking out the door and feeling the heat was what they did next.

“It’s Winter!”

“It’s so warm, I missed it.” Clay sighs happily and grabs the little dangly adjustment strap to Thomas’ bag and starts leading him to where his parents said his truck was following the directions on his phone that his mom typed out. It stayed in daily parking so they didn’t have to go inside the parking garage. Thankfully. Thomas was expecting Clay’s truck to be just like his one in Gryffindor, large bright red and loud, but to his surprise they start walking over to a teal blue old truck. It must have been from the 70’s or something. Thomas stopped a couple feet back just taking in the scene.

Clay, glowing under the sun just in a shirt and jeans standing next to a light blue truck making this all seem like a picture on one of those tiny calendars with old cars on them. The concrete around them was a bit off but he didn’t mind.

“What? Something wrong?” Clay looks at him from the other side of the truck after finding his keys in his bag and tossing it into the bed of the truck. “You can toss your bag in the back if you want, there isn’t a ton of room in the front.”

“I was just looking at something pretty is all.” Thomas acts all nonchalant as he tosses his bag in the back next to Clay’s and climbs in the now unlocked vehicle. Clay gets in on the driver's side and gives him a confused look, turning his head in the direction of where Thomas was just looking.

“All I see are cars, was there a cool one I missed?” He looks back at Thomas only to find his boyfriend a good inch from his face. He feels his cheeks heating up and hopes Thomas can’t tell. “What?”

“I was staring at you, Stupid.” Clay feels his cheeks get even more red and glares at Thomas a bit. Thomas has definitely stuck to his words recently in telling Clay he is ‘Pretty’ and ‘Beautiful’ all the time but Clay still doesn’t know how to react. Recently it has been smacking Thomas upside the head… then usually smooching him but that's besides the point. He has grown up his whole life being criticized for how he looks, then suddenly girls were throwing themselves at him and calling him ‘Hot’ and ‘Sexy’ but never the things Thomas or Noelle says.

It makes him feel vulnerable when they say stuff like that.

“Shut up.” Clay gives him a quick kiss and goes to pull away but Thomas holds him by his shirt to deepen the kiss, Clay doesn’t even try to fight against it. He smiles and kisses him more sweetly before they actually pull away. “I’m hungry, let's go eat!” He smiles a bit as Thomas laughs and buckles up, pulling out of the parking lot he starts to drive further into the heart of the city. Thomas watches all the old and new buildings mix together to make a wonderful blend of modern and historical.

It was so amazing, beautiful and fun.

He notices the buildings are getting more off the ground and raises an eyebrow, he goes to ask Clay what the houses are doing on stilts but the NOLA Native beats him to the punch.

“They are for when it floods during storms. Like hurricanes and flash floods, we have a flood wall as well but they don’t always hold up.” Clay has put on his dark wire framed sunglasses, driving with one hand on the wheel and his other elbow resting on the open window seal of the car, wind blowing through his hair. Just looking so in his element. “We are headed towards the harbor because they have the best seafood boil restaurants. My favorite is Mama Junes but Leo’s is Olive and Otto’s. So we tend to fight about where we want to go.” Clay glances over to Thomas who is just soaking everything in. Looking relaxed and calm.

They pull into the small broken concrete parking lot and park right in front. There are old buildings lining the narrow sidewalk just feet away from the docks. The sidewalk was poorly taken care of but it added character. Clay hop out of the truck and wanders over to Thomas side and opens the door bowing to him.

“Your highness.” Then he trips him on the way out making him stumble causing Clay to laugh hard enough he has to lean against the truck so he doesn’t fall over. Thomas rolls his eyes smiling and closes the door. Looking out at the docks he notices all the people doing their jobs and wonders what it would be like to be on a massive ship. He is knocked out of his thoughts by being hit in the side of the head by a pen.

“Where did you even get a pen!?” Thomas picks up the pen from the ground and starts chasing Clay around the truck for a good few minutes before he finally catches him from behind and wraps his arms around his waist picking him up, swinging him around to the other side of him, both laughing uncontrollably. Thomas' stomach lets them know that it senses food is nearby by rumbling loudly.

“That was weird I could feel your stomach growling, we should go eat before the fishermen get off work for the night.” Clay turns around in Thomas arms and just looks over his face for a moment, running his fingertips over the side of his face. He loves Thomas…

He should tell him soon and Noelle, of course Noelle. She is everything, beautiful, smart, sarcastic, and treats him like a real person. Clay didn’t know if he was ever going to date another woman after Ashley, hell, he didn’t even know if he would ever get away from Ashley. But he never expected to get so lucky. He never in a million years ever expected to be loved like two people.

Well, he hopes they love him.

They pull away after just looking at each other for a solid thirty seconds before Clay leads Thomas down the street a bit to a restaurant that looks straight out of the 60’s. Thomas was picking up a theme of stuff Clay likes… the theme is old. Doesn’t help that he and Noelle are older than the southerner either. They get a table, order food, and people just keep coming up to the table to talk to Clay like old friends. Men, women, old and young everyone wanted to talk to him.

When their food does show up it is something called a ‘seafood boil’. Thomas has heard of it before but always thought it was boiled right in front of you, which it is not. It also shows up in a plastic bag for some reason. Clay teaches him how to crack crab properly, only ending in one thumb being cut open by the sharp shell. Whose thumb?

Clayton London Bruss’ and he was annoyed about it.

They finish up eating and paying, Clay gives the young waitress a 50% tip because he can and wants to. They head out the door full and happy, walking past a group of old women who are playing poker at one of the tables out front.

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bruss himself! Long time no see, Sugar.” The woman the farthest away from Clay smiles at him and Thomas is worried this is going to go bad. “Looking mighty handsome there young man, be careful one of these days I’m gonna leave my husband for you.”

“Mrs. Bell! You can’t say stuff like that!” He laughs and walks over to give her a kiss on the cheek, giving Thomas time to take a good look at her. She was an older looking black woman who has definitely lived a full life, she was wearing a lot of blush and eyeshadow but her ruby red lipstick is what really stood out. Especially when she gave Clay a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m old, I can say what I want, within reason. Now tell me where you have been these last few months! We miss you and Leo on Fridays.”

“You here to stay for a while before you take off and get yourself hurt at those rodeos?” The woman across from Mrs. Bell spoke up, she was a white heavy set woman with a shirt that has two hurricanes on the boobs of her shirt that say ‘Lily’ and ‘Katrina’. He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“I assure you Miss Lila, I am only here for a day or maybe two.”

“Who is this hunk that with you Clayton, I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on him.” Clay smiles brightly and walks back over to Thomas’ side. Ignoring the hungry stares pointed in Thomas' direction by all four women.

“Sorry but he is off limits.” All the women make a mock sound of disappointment. “He’s my boyfriend.” They are stunned for a moment before they all gasp in delight and congratulate them.

“You always knew how to pick them, I always thought Your friend Leo and you would end up together. But I am so happy for you.” Mrs. Bell smiles at them.

“Everyone always thought Leo and I would get together but honestly, he's not my type.” Clay winks at the ladies who all giggle as they walk past, saying goodbye to one another. The ladies pick up their game from where they left off. Thomas was still in shock. Those elderly ladies.. Congratulated them! He was not expecting that. He was expecting to be chased off with a purse or something. Then again, Clay does seem rather close to them.

“How do you know them?” Thomas looks at Clay who is saying hello to the people he knows that pass them on the way to the restaurant. He apparently knows everyone.

“Well, they have a poker tournament every Friday at Mama June’s so Leo and I would volunteer there for fun. Other people would work to get paid but we never needed the money, instead we were the two who would lose on purpose just to give the people their money. Most people who go to the tournaments are on the poorer side of town and we always tried to give back. So that's what we did. We would bet obscene amounts of money just to make sure people could pay their rent or bills or do whatever they do to relieve stress after a long week of working.” Thomas stopped walking, Clay didn’t notice for a few steps and then turned but to look. The sun was sinking down behind him and it made him glow. Thomas has known he has loved Clay for a while now but Noelle and him had a plan to tell Clay together. But at this very moment in time, his heart was so full of adoration he couldn’t help himself.

“I love you.”

Noelle watched, she watched the entire interaction her father had with Leo. She knew it wasn’t going to be good. She had listened to his insult Leo while she was in the kitchen with her mother and honestly it made her feel sick with anger. Leo was exactly what they wanted for Logan. Yet, they brush him off because of something stupid. She was pissed, helping her mother get ingredients out for dinner but decided she didn’t want to help. She was exhausted mentally and physically. So she decided to go take a nap, walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her childhood room.

The biggest bedroom in the house. It was painted seafoam green because that was her favorite color in secondary school, posters of her favorite bands and pictures of her friends all over the walls. Little origami birds made by her best friend hang from fishing line over her king sized bed with pristine crisp white matching bedspread, pillows and sheets. Her full length mirror was next to her large white desk with a lamp that cost forty dollars on it. Her bean bag chairs of varying sizes and colors on the corner next to her TV and PlayStation.

She never noticed how spoiled she was. But being in this room and then thinking about her sisters and Logan’s room, it made her ears ring with guilt. She started going to therapy after she got out of the house because she didn’t understand why she would just be consumed by guilt or sadness whenever she was around Logan. They never had a good relationship when they were younger fighting all the time, Noelle just saying really nasty things that she regrets and now they are pretty much each other's best friends. Her therapist told her that it was because her father was a narcissist and raised her to believe she was better than all her siblings but as she grew older she knew that it was wrong.

After that appointment she called Logan to apologize for everything over the phone, he was confused but still listened and let her get everything off her chest. Then he invited her and their sisters to family skate. There is where she met Thomas, she was uncomfortable around him for a while but she couldn’t understand why. Then it hit her.

Her father would speak poorly of any person of color any chance he got… and she believed him when he said all those terrible things. Things that should never be said. So she erased everything he ever said from her morals and continued to hang out with Thomas, when he asked her out it was a no brainer to say yes.

Her father wasn’t happy but it's not his life to live, she paced up and down her dorm on many nights when she should have been studying worrying about what her dad would say but in the end she understood that none of it mattered… By then she knew she was in love.

Months later she started going to the Godric University in Gryffindor to continue her masters degree she told her parents it was to keep an eye on Logan, she moved in with Thomas but never told her parents. Logan was ecstatic. She hadn’t seen him that happy in… well, when their dad told him he was proud of Logan for getting drafted and “doing something with his life”. It stung but Logan couldn’t stop smiling.

Then there was Clay. Stupid, Charming, Challenging, Beautiful Clay.

He waltzed into their lives like he was meant to. Stumbling once but never stopping. She wasn’t expecting to get a text from a random number saying “Hi, My name is Clayton and I have been talking to Thomas over the phone for a few months. He mentioned he had a girlfriend but I think we have started flirting and I wanted to let you know, because I know Thomas talks about you all the time and is madly in love with you. I just wanted to let you know that… I think I have caught feelings for him and if you would like me to stop talking to him I will.”

It scared her at first not answering the message for days, letting it hang over her like a storm cloud, Thomas had never mentioned an interest in the same sex before and she was worried she would lose him. So they talked about it, Thomas showed her the messages willingly and hadn’t noticed the flirting until she pointed it out. She started messaging Clay. They got on really well and before she knew it, he was all her and Thomas talked about.

They both realized they liked him, together.

Meeting him in person for the first time was intimidating because how do you balance a relationship already formed and stable, to a relationship with a new person at the same time? Would they get jealous? Would they fight? Would they end up splitting up?

But instead, Clay made them stronger, happier. They were happy before but sometimes it felt as though something was missing. Noelle didn’t really know or care about Polyamrous relationships until Logan started talking to her about how it feels to love two people.

“It hurts sometimes but it is also something I can’t live without. One being wild and free and the other grounded and calm, sometimes they switch or we all switch in dynamics but… I wouldn’t trade either of them for the world. It's the most I’ve ever loved and been loved in my life.” and she wanted that as well but never thought she could do it.

Then it happened, she felt like she was on the edge of a cliff ready to dive off at any minute but she was worried she would regret it. She eventually jumped, landing in the water below of safety and love, never looking back. She never would.

Her and Thomas told each other they loved one another on the same day at the same time. A day she would never forget. They were stuck in traffic arguing about something stupid, probably about schedules because that was their main issue always missing each other on the way out the door, they stopped for a moment. Noelle was still fuming but Thomas was calm, he was always calm, he put his hand on her leg and she looked at him. They held eye contact for a few seconds before they said at the same time.

“I love you.”

Clay was stunned. He stared at Thomas letting the words he just spoke sink in. He never expected to be told that by someone other than his parents, Leo, Reg and Eloise. His heart suddenly started aching and his throat became tight as he felt a drop of something on his cheek. Looking up to see if it was raining he only saw a clear blue sky beginning to tint purple. Then he felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and a hand cup his cheek, turning his head to meet those soft dark brown eyes.

“Is it raining?” Thomas smiled a bit at him and wiped his cheek.

“You’re crying. Are you okay?”

“You love me?” Thomas smiles so bright, so calm and so lovingly at him that it makes him feel like he is about to burst with emotions.

“Yes, I do.” Clay puts his hands over his own overworking heart and squeezes.

“Why?” Thomas is a bit taken back by this question, his expression changes a bit to concern for a moment. Wiping away another tear that has fallen.

“Because, you make me happy. You are caring, sweet, kind and…” Clay squeezes his eyes shut listening to Thomas list off things about himself that he couldn’t believe were true. “You are beautiful.” Clay lets out a strangled sound from his throat and turns to bury his face in Thomas’ chest hoping he could hide. “You are so so amazing Clayton, I just wish I could show you what I see, what Noelle sees too.” Oh god, they have talked about being in love with Clay and he didn’t even know! Noelle wasn’t with them but it felt as though she was everywhere. She was in the blue of the ocean, the sound of it hitting the shore. The beauty of the city just so alive yet caring. She was everywhere and not there at the same time.

“Noelle loves me too?”

“Yes, but don’t tell her I confessed for her. She will kill me.” This makes both of them chuckle. Clay pulls away enough to look Thomas in the eyes once more and he says back.

“I love you.”

Judy was waiting by the door, the food for dinner was in the oven staying warm, Garland was outside on the porch smoking a cigarette waiting for the boys to arrive. It would be any minute now. Clay says they just ate but Judy isn’t one to let her guests get hungry. She remembers Thomas from when the team was down at the Knut’s ranch for a week. She remembers him being polite and helping her move the chair around the table to make sure everyone would fit for the meals.

He was also a very good looking man, he was tall, dark and handsome as Clay would say. She never in a million years would have thought that that would be the man Clay ended up with. There was also Noelle who she spoke with when some of the team was at the bar, she was so very sweet and funny as well. But again, never someone she thought Clayton would end up with.

She saw the dust down the driveway and knew the boys were moments away, Clayton knows she doesn’t like him driving at night. She remembers when Clay was just a young little boy, coming home after driving in the dark crying because he almost hit a possum. He was always emotional. She knows people like to take advantage of his kindness and use it against him, his vulnerability showed everyone he has ever met his flaws.

She can only hope that her son is being treated well up north. She prays they aren’t like Ashley.

The truck pulls up, parking in his normal spot across from the door, hopping out of the truck Judy watches as her son and Thomas link hands as they walk towards the door. Garland stands up slowly, his back and hips have been bothering him as he gets older, shaking Thomas hand after stubbing out his cigarette he leads them inside.

“Ma!” Clay runs over to hug her and lifts her off the ground making her laugh, he seems to be in a wonderful mood. “I missed you.” He starts sniffing the air and making his way towards the kitchen knowing his favorite is somewhere to be found. He was always reminding her of her puppy. Judy places her hands on her hips and shakes her head at him. She looks at Thomas and notices the absolutely love sick face he has on as he watches Clayton leave the room. She smiles. That was something she only ever read about in her romance novels, she wonders if Garland ever looks at her that way.

“Hello Thomas, it's good to see you again.” She watches as he smiles at her and extends his hand for her to shake, she playfully swats his hand away and pulls him into a tight hug. It takes him a minute to hug back but when he does it is tight. Clayton was in good hands.

“Long time no see.” He smiles at her as they pull away, a bit pink in the face. “You look stunning as ever, I might add.”

“Stop hitting on my mom! You’re gonna make my dad jealous.” Clay smiles at Thomas from the doorway of the kitchen with an oven mitt on one hand holding a large bowl of what looks like red beans and rice. Something he always tries to replicate at home but can never get it right. A spoon on the other hand and eating straight from the bowl. Judy laughs for a second.

“Clayton, please use a plate. How many times have I told you that you can’t just eat from the bowl.” Judy takes the towel from over her shoulder and takes the bowl from him, walking in the kitchen. A few minutes later they all sat around the table eating and chatting.

“I think I’m going to bring Noelle down for the two weeks we are back here before we leave for rodeo this summer.” Clay talks with his mouth full and Thomas rolls his eyes a bit. Smiling. Sharing a look with Judy.

“Clayton, have I taught you no table manners over the years.” Judy smiles at him and Garland snorts.

“Nope!” He laughs but moves to the side so Judy can’t smack his arm. “Okay, okay. You have but this is who I am mother goose. I can’t change it.”

Garland actually laughs at this. Thomas has noticed that Garland is a rather soft spoken man, old with a round beer gut but still jolly. Kinda like Santa with the beard, but he doesn’t think Santa wears work overalls. Thomas also notices a bisexual flag pin on his old beat up hat. That must be the pin Clay talks about sneaking onto his dad's hat that he ‘never noticed’ Thomas suspects he did notice. But wants to support his son in any way he can. That makes Thomas feel so happy that he can’t explain it.

Later in the evening before the sun has fully set but the stars are out and bright, plus there is a full moon tonight lighting up the area with ease, Clay had excused himself to the restroom to clean the lipstick off his face while Garland and Thomas went outside to chat.

“Has Clayton told you anything about his last relationship?” Thomas shakes his head no watching as Garland sits down in an old rocking chair and lights a cigarette. Offering one to Thomas. He declines. “Well, she got him into a lot of trouble. Being the Sheriff daughter and all. Plus she had a temper and if I’m being honest I don’t think she ever actually liked Clayton.” He takes a drag and Thomas furrows his brow listening intently. “She only dated him for status, he was one other the only people targeted by the sheriff and he is black so she thought of him more as a chess piece to her rebellion than anything. She is pregnant now and I have a terrible feeling that…” Garland shakes his head, deciding not to tell Thomas what his theory is.

Clay walks out the door and finds them chatting.

“Not giving him the shovel talk are ya, Pa?” He smiles at Thomas and puts out his hand for him to take. “I’m gonna take him on a tractor ride because he has never been before.”

“I wasn't giving him no shovel talk but I am telling him he best respect you.” Clay smiles at his dad and nods. “Go on! I’m not keeping you from counting the cattle.”

“Ha Ha.” Clay rolls his eyes and drags Thomas over to the old looking tractor sitting by the entrance to the gate to the pasture. “Come on! There is somewhere I want to show you!” Clay got them settled, the tractor wasn't very large and it was old so he sat on Thomas’ lap as he started driving in the pasture.

“Comfy?”

“You are a very nice cushion.” Clay smiles as Thomas scoffs and wraps his arms around his waist pressing the side of his head to Clay back. He was having a great time but he was getting a bit uncomfortable from the old seat… and Clay’s ass bouncing up and down on his lap. The drive from a bit before his hard on became noticeable.

“Thomas… are you hard?” Clay can feel his cheeks heating up as he feels Thomas dick under him, ever since Thomas told him he loves him he has been wanting so have some passionate lovemaking… not necessarily on a tractor though. “Please don’t tell me tractors are you new kink.”

Thomas laughs into Clay back and smooths his hands down Clay's abdomen to rest on the top of his thighs. “Maybe not tractors but you bouncing in my lap sure does get me going.” He laughs as Clay pulls off into a grove. Trees surrounding a pond or lake, just a body of water. Wildflowers everywhere, not blooming but he could still smell them. Clay turns the tractor off and stands up doing his best to turn around to face Thomas and not trip on the petals.

“Want to do something about it? We are in a place that Leo and I call ‘Secret’ so we might as well.” Clay straddles Thomas, his arms resting on his shoulders as their faces are just inches apart, only the light of the moon is making them visible to each other. Thomas wastes no time gripping Clay ass and pulling him in for a ferocious kiss. They made out for a while, Thomas smirking into the kiss every once in a while from when he grabs Clay’s ass making him gasp a bit. Normally Clay was very pliant when kissing, very submissive and soft, today he was fighting Thomas for dominance over the kiss and it was incredible.

Thomas felt Clay’s hand slowly fall from his shoulder down to his waistband, unbuttoning his pants with one hand and unzipping them. Thomas rarely ever wore jeans but he felt it was appropriate for meeting parents. Clay ran his finger up and down the bit of Thomas’ underwear that was just behind where the zipper was, teasing him. Feeling his breath hitch Clay smirks, pulling away from the kiss.

“You gonna fuck me or do I have to do it myself?” Clay barley finished the sentence before Thomas somehow maneuvered him so he was on his knees on the tractor seat, resting his chest over the backrest making an ‘oof’ when his diaphragm hit the rest. “Hand me my phone.”

“Think you are gonna get bored?” Thomas raises a questioning eyebrow but hands Clay his phone from the cup holder.

“No… just thought Noelle would Like a video of us.” He smiles looking back at Thomas with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Thomas is stunned for a moment, suddenly whipping out his own phone and pulling up snapchat.

“You’re so smart.” Clay’s smile goes from mischievous to soft in a second, just before Thomas yanks down his pants. “Wait… We don’t have any lube.”

“Check my front pocket, I’ve been carrying it around all day.” Clay is poking around on his phone looking rather uninterested but below the surface he was the most excited he has been in a long time, his dream was to have someone love him, fuck him, and want him in Secret. It’s finally happening.

Thomas reaches into Clay's front pocket, placing a couple small kisses on his back as he does, pulling out a packet of lube he is a bit worried. “Is this gonna be enough to prep you and fuck you?” Clay doesn't answer, just whistling as he kicks his feet a bit, then Thomas sees it, a glint in the moonlight. He looks down and notices… Clay was wearing a plug. He loudly groaned and pressed his forehead to Clay's back. “You’re gonna kill me!” Clay laughs a bit.

“I actually would rather keep you alive for now.”

“For now!?” Clay laughs again.

“As long as I’m alive at least.” Thomas smiles and shakes his head, slowly pulling the plug from Clay. He watches the screen of his lover's phone how his face looks tense but relaxed at the same time. Thomas pulls his own pants down his thighs and tears open the packet of lube with his teeth and pours it onto his cock. Clay zooms in on him.

After spreading the lube on himself he wipes the extra off on Clay’s shirt who is about to protest but gasps as Thomas pushes into him in one smooth glide, not moving just waiting for Clay to adjust. Holding his shirt between his teeth Thomas opens his phone and starts recording with the flash as he starts moving in and out of Clay, slow but deep. Clay’s own recording is on his front facing camera on his face with flash, he actually forgets he is holding his phone for a moment and closes his eyes just enjoying the jolts of pleasure through his body. His phone dips a bit so it isn’t on his face anymore and Thomas stops moving altogether.

“Phone Clayton.” Clay swallows because Thomas never calls him by his full name unless he is in trouble, he fixes the angle without complaining and is rewarded with the deepest thrust yet. Moaning loudly he pushes back onto Thomas a bit and feels him start to speed up. Punching sounds out of him as his diaphragm hits the seat and Thomas’ cock knocks the wind out of him. He is making sure to put on a show as he starts sending the videos to the groupchat of him, Thomas and Noelle.

Thomas’ video also start sending, he is making sure the angle in the video is right to see him fucking clay, sometimes pulling out slow and fucking in fast. Sometimes pulling out fast and pushing in slow. He was taking Clay apart in ways he didn’t know possible.

Clay was getting close, after his third video to Noelle he starts getting shaky, he eyes are rolling back and his mouth is constantly slack. He is used to Thomas tossing out degrading shit when they fuck, and he loves it, but tonight Thomas was completely silent and it made Clay realize just how loud he is. Thomas drives a good three more hard thrusts right into Clay's prostate and then on the fourth he says pressing on it and grinds into it causing tears to fall from Clay’s eyes for the second time today. It sends Clay over the edge, cumming harder than he has in a while and that says a lot because he usually cums hard when he is with his partners.

Clay clenches around Thomas as he starts cumming and it sends him over the edge as well, sending the last video he leans forward and grips Clay's hips tightly as his body tenses. Once he is finished he slowly pulls out, neither of them being a fan of over stimulation, they both wince a bit.

“We don’t have anything to clean up with.” Thomas is thinking about using his shirt but that might be obvious to the parents.

“You could.. Put the plug back in, then use the dirty rag in the bottom of the cup holder for the seat.” Clay isn’t looking at Thomas, he probably thinks it's weird that Clay wants the plug back in. “Just… Just til we get back home.” Clay's face is burning with how embarrassed he is. Thomas thinks for a moment feeling his own face heat up, Clay wants everything he just put in him to stay in him… it was extremely hot but he didn’t know if that's how Clay saw it, taking the plug from his hand that was holding his phone, he help it between his ring and middle finger to make sure they didn’t lose it. He gulps down all his excitement that is threatening to make him hard again and watches closely as he uses his free hand to pull Clay open again. He slowly inserts the plug back into his boyfriend and lets out a shaky breath. How is he supposed to talk to Judy if he knows Clay is walking around with his baby juice still in him.

Oh god.

Clay slowly sits up and rolls his shoulders out, they are a bit stiff. Thomas wraps his arms around Clay's middle after they both pull up their pants and wipe off the seat, Clay’s head falls back on his shoulder, smiling sleepily.

“Hey,” Thomas pokes Clay’s cheek with his nose in a way of telling him he wants a kiss, turning his head Clay gives him a sweet chaste kiss smiling when they rub their noses for a moment. “I love you.” Clay turns around in the seat clumsily, just about falling off but thankful Thomas catches him by his belt loops and pulls him back onto the seat both laughing wildly. Smashing their lips together they are still laughing playfully biting each other's lips and noses.

“I love you too.”

Noelle woke up from her nap in one of her bigger fluffier bean bag chairs, it held her and probably would hold Thomas as well. Her phone was going nuts, sixteen snapchat notifications from Clay and Thomas. She sighs happily, still having an hour until dinner she was excited to talk to her boys, opening her app she clicks on that little purple square and it's a video of Clay's face, but then it zooms in on Thomas… lubing himself up. Sitting up a bit too fast and making herself dizzy, thanks anemia, she starts watching closer. Watching all the videos in full she is incredibly hot and uncomfortable, she curses as she tries to take a screenshot of Clay’s face and accidently closes her phone.

She watches closely at all of the videos, Thomas’ of his cock fucking Clay and Clay’s reaction to this on his own videos. She scrambles to her bag to pull out the gift Clay had gotten her from a fucking tiktok video. It was a rose toy, the first time she used it she came in a minute and a half, crying from how good it was at the same time. She decided to take a video of herself getting off to them… they would appreciate that.

Stripping out of everything except for the hoodie Thomas gave her over a year ago she gets to work. Setting the phone up on the fancy footboard of her bed she gets a bit camera shy, sitting there for a moment thinking about how bad she wishes she was with them. She also was nervous to use the rose on her own because it was really powerful and she didn’t know if she could actually keep it on herself long enough to actually finish.

Then she starts thinking about how Clay and Thomas will react to the video, definitely would get them going again and she would love to hear or maybe even see what they did. She is starting to think she is a bit of a voyeur… She take a deep breath and starts the video, She awkwardly waves at the camera, noticing how her hair is poking out of her hood over her head and she laughs, taking a deep breath she holds down the button on the rose for three seconds and she feels it turn on, buzzing in her hand. She spreads her legs and places the rose onto herself, instantly she knocks her head back on her headboard. Putting her free hand over her mouth to keep her from making noise she scrunches her brows and squeezes her eyes shut. Pressing harder she feels her legs start to shake and her abs clenching. Her toes start to curl and her eyes roll back as she already starts to fall off the edge, already being so turned on and the power of the rose being too much she cums taking the rose off her and curling forward as she shakes, shivering violently. She is breathing hard and feels around for her phone. Stopping the video she sends it to them with a little heart emoji. She looks at the time and smiles as she still has twenty minutes till dinner, she cleans up and gets dressed in something a bit nicer. Her face is still red and glowy but she doesn’t mind. She gets a notification and it's from Thomas in the chat, three drooling emojis and

‘I love you’.

Later on in the night after Judy and Garland have gone to bed and Thomas was on his phone just scrolling on tiktok, Clay got him addicted, the man himself walks into the room with arms full of snacks, placing them on the table in his room. His room was the size of the living room in the apartment, it had two red walls and two white. It seems like Clay has never been one for monogamy in any sense of the word. It had a large king size bed, on a fancy mahogany bed frame with fancy sheets and bedspread that don’t match in the slightest. A walk in closet that was full of clothes and trophies along with a gaming system and boxes with names on them full of little trinkets that Clay has found. Leo and Eloise's boxes are the only boxes left in there because Thomas, Noelle and Reg have all taken their boxes with them. Judy and Garland have a room full of things Clay has collected for them over his whole life.

“Did you get cleaned out? I want to make sure we pack the plug for home, I think we could have some good fun with that.” Thomas moves to the edge of the bed to sit with his feet touching the ground, about to get up to get some pretzel sticks. Clay had gone quiet, he was just chatting about how he was upset that his favorite heifer was sold and his parents forgot to tell him.

“Ummm… yeah.” Thomas senses something is off and motions for Clay to come over to him with his finger, Clay shuffles over to him between his legs, Thomas rests his hands on Clay hips and looks up at him. Clay is looking anywhere but him.

“Clay, what's wrong?” Clay sighs and looks down, Thomas ducks his head a bit to look Clay in the eyes, he looks worried. This made Thomas worry as well.

“I just- it's embarrassing.”

“What's embarrassing?” Clay starts to fidget, pressing the tips of his fingers in between his other fingers. Thomas takes his hands and gives them a squeeze.

“I still have the plug in… because I want you in me. Always.” Clay feels his cheeks heat up and he is waiting for Thomas to get grossed out but instead Thomas smiles at him.

“I don’t think that’s embarrassing, I think that's actually pretty hot.” Clay looks deep into Thomas eyes before moving onto the rest of his face just to see if he is lying, he realizes he is being truthful and tackles him back onto the bed. They eventually stop rolling with Clay on top of Thomas, they are both only in their boxers so there wasn’t much between them. Clay grinds down on Thomas as he feels him getting hard. Thomas goes to put his hands on Clay's hips but is stopped short, Clay pins his hands above his head smirking down at him.

“I’m in charge tonight, keep your hands here. I’m gonna undress us.” Clay shimmies down the shocked Thomas’ body, yanking his boxers off and tossing them over his shoulder, doing the same with his own. He lays down and slowly takes the plug out of himself after scurrying over to get the lube causing Thomas to laugh.

“You’re so cute.” Thomas lays there buzzing with excitement, He jumps a bit when the cold lube hits his way to hard cock and makes a sound of offense when Clay snickers at him. Swinging his leg over Thomas and not even pausing as he sinks down on him. Humming happily. Thomas can’t help it when he goes to move his hands again but Clay pins them back to the bed.

“You should learn to- listen” Clay is moving his hips not even stopping to take a breath. Thomas was groaning under him. Clay has not ridden him yet and it is so different, Thomas was definitely not in control and Clay was so hot being so bossy. Noelle is teaching him things. He was the one gasping and begging for more and Clay was the one giving yet receiving at the same time. He was in his own state, yeah Thomas could put him into a submissive mood with just a simple gesture but he was enjoying this. Clay eventually lets go of his hands but Thomas keeps them there as he watches Clay just focus on fucking himself. His arms stretched over his head, one coming down to glide down his chest and to tug his own neglected cock every once in a while but he was dragging this out because he was in control.

Eventually Clay takes one of Thomas' hands and moves it to his dick, Thomas starts to jerk him off causing his rhythm to stutter. He was moaning and his head was falling back, Thomas started meeting his thrusts and he groaned. He was getting close, he was about to tell Thomas this when he suddenly felt a heat filling him up, his eyes snapped open and he saw Thomas’ mouth open and his head tipped back.

He just came… before Clay did! That never happens!

The feeling of Thomas cumming in him, and the thought that Clay made him come first for the first time ever. He spurts onto Thomas’ stomach, flopping forward and putting all his weight onto Thomas.

“We” Clay was still catching his breath as Thomas kissed all over his face, sweaty and breathing hard he smiled. “We can clean up, but I want you in me when we fall asleep.” Thomas’ heart soared at the thought, this new kink of Clay’s was quite nice, not gonna lie. They clean up and snuggle into bed in a spoon position, Thomas hard and in Clay as he falls asleep, driving him mad!

After Thomas is positive Clay is asleep and he has gone soft he pulls out and rolls over so his back to Clay and calls Noelle. A couple of rings and she answers sounding groggy.

“Noelle! So much just happened! Clay has a fucking warming kink! A WARMING KINK!” He whispers yells as she snorts at him but tells him to go on. “He just pinned me to the bed after having a plug in after we fucked on the tractor! He fucked himself on me! I Came BEFORE him!”

“And I missed all this just to see my dad kick Leo out of the house! That’s dumb! You guys better do it again when I’m home because I was to see that! Anyways I need to rest because tomorrow will be long and boring and tense. Goodnight I love you.”

“Good luck and Goodnight Sugar Tits.” Noelle laughs at him.

“I love you too.”

[tunehummed]

THE JONATHAN LARSON PROJECT. — 458 sentences from the 2019 album the jonathan larson project, conceived by jennifer ashley tepper! change pronouns as needed. trigger warning for mentions/discussion of abuse, sexism, homophobia, and oil spills.

GREENE STREET.

‛ i found the sun on a midwinter day. ’

‛ on a backstreet down in soho, there was snow on the ground. ’

‛ instinct told me to get out and search for a day. ’

‛ there goes a chic, chic baby on her way to a coup d’état. ’

‛ there goes a fella like me lookin’ for his day. ’

‛ there goes a boy in his mama’s arms. ’

‛ you can say what you can say. ’

‛ there goes a lover sittin’ and writin’ this song. ’

‛ i’m sittin’ on greene street! ’

‛ and i don’t mean money, honey. ’

‛ watchin’ the world waltz by. ’

‛ laughing the day away. ’

‛ there goes a man with a camera whose sunglasses shade his eyes. ’

‛ there goes a man who seems that he knows a star. ’

‛ there goes a tourist who’s scared to answer me. ’

‛ there goes a dancer too scared to answer me, an artist who winked as she passed by. ’

‛ an artist who winked as she passed by! ’

‛ all these people out in the street, too bad that no one wants to meet. ’

‛ too bad that no one wants to meet. ’

‛ everybody i see walks right by. ’

‛ would someone please look me in the eye? ’

ONE OF THESE DAYS.

‛ another failure, another flop. ’

‛ i should try another hobby, this has gotta stop. ’

‛ i feel like a tightrope walker without the wire. ’

‛ one more disaster, one more dud. ’

‛ it could be worse! at least this time no flood. ’

‛ at least this time no flood. ’

‛ at least this time no flood, though it’s the fourteenth time that i’ve almost caught on fire. ’

‛ though it’s the fourteenth time that i’ve almost caught on fire. ’

‛ maybe it’s luck! what is luck, how could this be luck? ’

‛ no one’s luck could be this bad! ’

‛ maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s time… ’

‛ one of these days i’ll find a way. ’

‛ i’ll make it to the top, leave ‘em all back in the dust. ’

‛ one of these days someone will say, ‘that boy will never stop!’ ’

‛ that day’s gonna be one of these days. ’

‛ don’t understand it, it isn’t fair. ’

‛ every time i try to prove myself results just aren’t there. ’

‛ i feel like a mountain climber without the peak. ’

‛ my sister laughs at me, says i’m odd. ’

‛ my mom and pop think i’m a punishment from god. ’

‛ i get looks from my neighbors that seem to say, ‘there goes that FREAK!’ ’

‛ sometimes i wish - no, i don’t - yes, i do, i wish! ’

‛ i wish that somehow i’d been born dumb. ’

‛ then i feel that something may change. ’

‛ i’ll rise above the throng. ’

‛ they’ll be amazed at who they see. ’

‛ one of these days someone will say, ‘i knew it all along.’ ’

‛ one of these days that’s what will be. ’

‛ god, can it happen today? ’

‛ maybe there’s been a mistake. ’

‛ let’s trade a failure for one minor miracle. ’

‛ i’m gonna be number one! ’

‛ i’m gonna be number one, at least in some one person’s eyes. ’

‛ one of these days someone will say, ‘you are my only one.’ ’

‛ i’m gonna fly, i’m gonna touch the sky. ’

‛ i’m gonna win, i’m gonna sin, i’m gonna never die. ’

‛ gonna glow, gonna flow, gonna click, gonna stick. ’

‛ gonna gain, reach, conquer, gonna make ‘em sick. ’

‛ gonna triumph, prevail, sail, razzle dazzle, glitter gleam. ’

‛ gonna see my face in every house on every screen. ’

‛ i’ll be the hero, i’ll change the world. ’

‛ and maybe in the end i’ll even get the girl! ’

‛ gotta believe it. ’

‛ i can see through the haze. ’

‛ a miracle’s in for a landing, gonna get here, gonna happen one of these days. ’

BREAK OUT THE BOOZE.

‛ the wolf’s at the door and i hear talk of war. ’

‛ somebody break out the booze. ’

‛ let’s grab some hooch. ’

‛ let’s get goopy and smooch. ’

‛ forget all this sob sister news. ’

‛ the world’s gettin’ lousy, so let’s go get drowsy. ’

‛ yes, right here and now-sy. ’

‛ let’s bow-wow these blues. ’

‛ the stars look poetic. the moon’s copacetic. ’

‛ crank up your jalopy and then we’ll get sloppy. ’

‛ we’ll call up our bookie and say to him: ‘cookie, lookie, we’ve nothing to lose.’ ’

‛ the times ain’t so jake, every bum’s on the take. ’

‛ got no cake, got no steak, just this ache in my shoes. ’

‛ the moon’s looking cheesy. your eyes say, ‘i’m easy.’ ’

‛ oh – it’s swell to be alive. ’

‛ oh – it’s the real mccoy! ’

‛ oh – give a yell, we’ll survive. ’

‛ waiter! who needs a mug? give me a bottle or a jug. ’

‛ the government’s awful, so let’s be unlawful. ’

‛ throw out the compass and let’s make a rumpus. ’

‛ this town’s getting screwy, so let’s go kablooey. ’

‛ it’s true if we get boo-hoo-y, we lose. ’

‛ let’s make it strange – hell! let’s get naked, angel. ’

OUT OF MY DREAMS.

‛ out of my dreams. ’

‛ out all night, kisses on the street. ’

‛ sidewalk, dance, september heat. ’

‛ stay in bed, love all day. ’

‛ fire, passion, every single way. ’

‛ go to work, mind on you. anticipating what we’re gonna do. ’

‛ nasty words on the telephone. ’

‛ alarm goes off, i’m in bed alone. ’

‛ you left my life. stay out of my dreams. ’

‛ thursday, friday, 3 am. ’

‛ buses, subways. us versus them. ’

‛ winter chill, skies look dark. ’

‛ monkey business in central park. ’

‛ coffee, cocoa, more whipped cream. ’

‛ vodka, brandy. was it just a dream? ’

‛ window shopping, christmas day. ’

‛ i wake up, all that was yesterday! ’

‛ try to stay busy. hard to stay afloat. ’

‛ will i be sunk by this lump in my throat? ’

‛ can’t think, can’t act, can’t find new roads. ’

‛ think i see you everywhere, my heart explodes. ’

‛ will i ever laugh? will i ever be the same? ’

‛ i’m tossing, i’m turning, i’m calling your name. ’

‛ maybe you’ll come back. that thought makes me weep. ’

‛ the only thing i do is i go back to sleep. ’

‛ stay out of my dreams. get out! ’

VALENTINE’S DAY.

‛ he was a greeting card candy cupid. ’

‛ there was a blizzard, it was twenty below. ’

‛ she was 15, clean, lonely and stupid, and as pure as the virgin snow. ’

‛ he pulled her in from the storm and the fire was warm. she didn’t have the nerve to say no. ’

‛ she didn’t have the nerve to say no. ’

‛ beat her till she’s black and blue and gray. ’

‛ draw a little heart. draw a little arrow. draw a little blood. ’

‛ v-v-v-valentine’s day. ’

‛ red wine, waterford crystal. chocolate kisses and lace. ’

‛ knives and chains and a pistol mounted on a wall, like scars on a face. ’

‛ he said he liked to play rough as he locked the handcuff. she knew it’d be tough to escape. ’

‛ she knew it’d be tough to escape. ’

‛ february winter in her heart. ’

‛ i said i’d show her normal love. she said, ‘too late to start.’ ’

‛ she said, ‘too late to start.’ ’

‛ now her fashion is basically leather. favorite color is basically red. ’

‛ and her passions change like the weather, as she dances from bed to bed to bed. ’

‛ and she feels like a fool, but she likes her men cruel. ’

‛ i doubt she’ll be cool till she’s dead. ’

WHITE MALE WORLD.

‛ bryant gumbel, decaf coffee, french vanilla ultra slim. ’

‛ pert shampoo with extra body, clinique, neutrogena. ’

‛ hey, madonna. ho, madonna, hey. ’

‛ stay-free, yeast-x, estee lauder. ’

‛ estee lauder, revlon, calvin klein’s obsession. ’

‛ advil, ultra-brite, no nonsense. ’

‛ diamonds are forever. ’

‛ it’s just another day. just another day. ’

‛ just another day in the white male world.  ’

‛ salad bar, no! candy bar. ’

‛ yes. candy bar, no! salad bar. ’

‛ diet coke, no! diet rite. ’

‛ cellulite or cancer? ’

‛ yes sir, no sir. ’

‛ holly hunter, melanie griffith, meryl streep. ’

‛ spandex, reeboks. ’

‛ taylor dayne, stairmaster, oprah winfrey. ’

‛ let’s cut down a jungle. ’

‛ let’s go start a war. ’

‛ let’s go rape a co-ed. ’

‛ what a lovely thing to do! ’

‛ let’s drink beer and bust some heads. ’

‛ let’s all vote for jesse helms. ’

‛ let’s string up a faggot and a black guy and a jew. ’

‛ evian water, black lace push-up, billiard table, dirty words. ’

‛ skinny blue jeans, skimpy t-shirt. ’

‛ husband hunting, binge & purge. ’

‛ open your mouth and open your legs and open your purse. now – where’s the trojan? ’

‛ now – where’s the trojan? ’

‛ wait! don’t stop! too late, he’s finished. ’

‛ what if men got pregnant? ’

LA DI DA RAP.

‛ we all should be drinkin’ to abraham lincoln and get stinkin’ drunk in his name. ’

‛ it’s a good thing he’s dead cause he’d cry his eyes red, hang his head if he saw this campaign. ’

‛ singing hey la di la di, hey la di da day. ’

‛ lincoln! here’s mud in your eye. ’

‛ are we past our prime? or is this the time to climb from the slime, make america great. ’

‛ are we so hollow that we blindly follow and swallow whatever they put on our plate? ’

‛ just sing no! ’

‛ to handlers, sound bytes, madison avenue, cynical hollywood, la di da pictures. ’

‛ tabloids, images, wrapped up facts in relation, slim control. ’

‛ la di da you drama la di da de da de la di da. ’

‛ pour some ales for old roger ailes and danny quayle’s his protégé. ’

‛ in ‘96 his looks, his tricks make tricky dick’s crime passe. ’

‛ i’ve had it up to here. ’

‛ here’s mud in your eye! ’

IRON MIKE.

‛ on a starry black night at the base of mount hogan, beyond horsetail creek and anderson bay. ’

‛ from the port of valdez sailed a ship, bound for long beach. ’

‛ over one million barrels of crude stowed away. ’

‛ to the left of the wheel in the bridge of the upper deck under the compass, was he. ’

‛ navigation computer, the captain and fisherman’s friend who could steer perfectly. ’

‛ they called him iron mike. ’

‛ in the dead of the night he steered the way through the darkness. ’

‛ iron mike didn’t see the red light on the reef. ’

‛ he’d been known to throw back one or two. ’

‛ yet no one thought twice when he set autopilot and retired below with the crew. ’

‛ from the two am stillness came the cry of the third mate. ’

‛ someone better go wake up the chief! ’

‛ yet by then it was too late. ’

‛ the starboard tanks had 12 foot gashes cut out by bligh reef. ’

‛ the forget-me-nots cried and the salmon all died and the fisherman wore black armbands. ’

‛ and the spokesmen from exxon said, ‘no major damage,’ though six million gallons remain in the sands. ’

‛ and from rocky point down to mount freemantle, you can still see the black film on the soil. ’

‛ and the echoes rebound throughout prince william sound of half frozen animals, choking in oil. ’

‛ who’s at the helm of this ship of state? ’

‛ we’ve in for some rough navigation. ’

‛ we have the power – the hour is late. ’

‛ gotta get tough and clean up the nation. ’

‛ black rainbows of exxon lightgrade again flowed, like hot fudge in a big apple spill. ’

‛ the detection machine had malfunctioned quite often, repair procedure so hard to enforce. ’

‛ and down on prall’s island, the cleanup begins. ’

‛ and the horror continues till we chart our own course. ’

‛ it’s the dead of the night. ’

‛ we can steer a new way through the darkness. ’

‛ we must see the light for relief. ’

FIND THE KEY.

‛ she’s walking, he’s sitting. ’

‛ he plays a dark c-minor chord. ’

‛ it’s like the keyboard is his heart. ’

‛ he hears the clock, he hugs the cat. ’

‛ he hugs the cat… no. he kicks the cat. ’

‛ he pumps the volume higher. ’

‛ a fire’s just about to start. ’

‛ why can’t, why can’t i? ’

‛ why can’t i, why can’t i find the key? ’

‛ why can’t i find the key? ’

‛ door closes – he freezes. ’

‛ he sees it’s hard to end duets. ’

‛ he lets his fingers feel the way. ’

‛ he loves her, he’s lost her. ’

‛ he’s hearing melancholy strings that sing the things that he can’t say. ’

‛ he can’t imagine what he should have said. ’

‛ it’s all been said and sounds cliché. ’

‛ he’s at the bridge between his head which says, ‘it’s dead,’ and his heart which says, ‘don’t let her get away.’ ’

‛ she’s gone now. he’s singing. ’

‛ he’s singing. he hears no two part harmony. ’

‛ he hears no two part harmony. ’

‛ he looks around – this can’t be real. ’

‛ this can’t be real. ’

‛ depression, a dark progression. ’

‛ why can he only sing it? ’

‛ what will it take to make him feel? ’

‛ and then somehow it ends. ’

HOSING THE FURNITURE.

‛ hello my lucite coffee table. someone spill a little milk on you? ’

‛ tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. ’

‛ one – more – twist! that’s better now. ’

‛ silly little me, me, me, me, me, me, me! ’

‛ i’m singing in the living room. ’

‛ what’s the time? fifteen minutes. ’

‛ pour the bleach, put the finishing touches on the dinner. ’

‛ the dog – the dog – the dog. still outside. ’

‛ my nails! my god! a chip! ’

‛ tom likes wonder bread with turkey. ’

‛ tom was preoccupied last night. ’

‛ is it me? is it – ’

‛ do i have enough milk? ’

‛ oh stain stain, down the drain. ’

‛ i can see myself in the coffee table, pretty as i was on my wedding day. ’

‛ pretty as i was on my wedding day. ’

‛ i’m as pretty as the coffee table. we’re so pretty! ’

‛ we’re so pretty! ’

‛ ah! what? you scared me. ’

‛ who were you talking to? ’

‛ who? no one. ’

‛ what’s all this? ’

‛ why are you acting so weird? ’

‛ you know i’m hosing the furniture. ’

‛ and when i hose, i sing to myself. ’

‛ who do you think cleans up? some elf? ’

‛ no sweeping – no mops. in no time it’s wheeeeee! ’

‛ when i’m hosing the furniture i’m free. ’

‛ i’m free – i’m free! ’

‛ now run along and play – i’m concentrating. ’

‛ you know your father likes to come home to that ‘just decorated look’... ’

‛ raindrops are falling on my couch! ’

‛ what’s the time? thirty minutes! ’

‛ martinis, cut the flowers for the dinner. ’

‛ the dog – the dog – the dog. hasn’t been fed. ’

‛ my hair! my god! a gray hair! ’

‛ tom likes onion cocktails. ’

‛ tom nodded off again last night. ’

‛ i get treated like dirt! ’

‛ i can see myself in the drapery. ’

‛ am i pretty as i was on my wedding day? ’

‛ am i pretty as the drapery? are we pretty? ’

‛ are we pretty? ’

‛ don’t you care? ’

‛ do i look mad? my happiness grows! ’

‛ who needs dad when i’ve got the hose! ’

‛ this house is a reflection of me – modern, graceful, easy, simple – synthetic. ’

‛ modern, graceful, easy, simple – synthetic. ’

‛ in everything i see my reflection. ’

‛ do i really look so simply pathetic? ’

‛ what? pull the trigger! ’

‛ soon it’s gonna rain on the bookshelf. ’

‛ what’s the time? 120 minutes. ’

‛ dry turkey, look relaxed for the dinner. ’

‛ the dog – the dog – the dog. the dog died last year! ’

‛ my blouse! my god! a crumb! ’

‛ i can see myself in the television. ’

‛ i was pretty on my wedding day. ’

‛ i was pretty as a television. we were pretty. ’

‛ we were pretty. ’

‛ a minor flood never hurt anyone! ’

‛ sometimes i wish this hose were a gun. ’

‛ just joking – see, i’m laughing. ’

PURA VIDA

‛ we are the people. ’

‛ we are the people who float on the river. ’

‛ we run up to the hill, we run down to the water. ’

‛ birds laugh and the sun, she smiles. ’

‛ and the trees, they dance in the wind. ’

‛ we race against time. ’

‛ we race for pure life. ’

‛ we need the people. ’

‛ we need the people who live on the river. ’

‛ find a pace, find a speed. ’

‛ nowhere to stop in big water. ’

‛ fish fly and the rocks play games and the trees sing out in the wind. ’

‛ sing in harmony. ’

‛ can we endure this race? ’

‛ can this race endure? ’

‛ we need the people who live in the forest. ’

‛ ‘ust there be finish lines? ’

‛ can’t the world drum like the water? ’

‛ the rivers will dry, and the birds will die. ’

‛ and the ghosts of the trees will cry out in the wind. ’

THE TRUTH IS A LIE.

‛ the berlin wall wasn’t destroyed, it was dismantled brick by brick. ’

‛ it was dismantled brick by brick. ’

‛ it was dismantled brick by brick and reconstructed on capitol hill, on the congressional floor. ’

‛ the money spent on one stealth bomber couldn’t wipe out homelessness. ’

‛ george bush never said, ‘read my lips.’ ’

‛ the peace dividend didn’t pay for the war. ’

‛ don’t look out the window. don’t go to the mirror. don’t you know what you will see? ’

‛ don’t you know what you will see? ’

‛ martin luther king and the kennedys were fictional players in a mini-series, just like charles manson and princess grace. ’

‛ bensonhurst was a publicity stunt. ’

‛ aids is a myth, first amendment’s fake. ’

‛ the sun revolves around the earth and the holocaust never took place. ’

‛ the truth is a lie! ’

‛ love does not exist between consenting members of the same sex. ’

‛ two plus two is five. ’

‛ the human body is revolting. ’

‛ we always will thrive. ’

‛ children don’t learn to hate from their parents. they catch it like german measles. ’

‛ they catch it like german measles. ’

‛ the moon is cheese and everyone should own a gun. ’

‛ women ask to be black and blue and pregnant their entire lives. ’

‛ the earth is flat and the white man knows what’s best for everyone. ’

‛ don’t you know what you might see? ’

‛ don’t look at the picture. don’t go to the theater. don’t you know what you will see? ’

RHAPSODY.

‛ i turn a corner, see a rat in the rubble as i try with all my might to put it out of mind. ’

‛ as i try with all my might to put it out of mind. ’

‛ i step on some budweiser glass. a limousine drives by. ’

‛ a rich man turns a corner, sees a rat in the rubble. ’

‛ he raises his smile glass window and reads the wall street journal. ’

‛ sky’s not free. river’s not free. i’m not free. life’s not free. ’

‛ life’s not free in the city. ’

‛ i’m told i too must wear a tie or they’ll fire me from my boring nothing job. ’

‛ i guess a tie is the ornament of establishment. ’

‛ i guess a tie is the ornament of establishment, though it seems to me to be more of a leash than a bow. ’

‛ though it seems to me to be more of a leash than a bow. ’

‛ so many people hounded to the pound. ’

‛ so many people collared to the dollar. ’

‛ okay, freedom is a state of mind. i agree. ’

‛ but i need the elements to remind me why. ’

‛ but i need the elements to remind me why with all this steel and concrete and noise about money. ’

‛ with all this steel and concrete and noise about money. honey, you get tunnel vision. ’

‛ honey, you get tunnel vision. ’

‛ you forget that there’s earth below the subway and beyond the ‘scrapers, there’s sky. ’

‛ i plan a day in the country with you. ’

‛ having gotten home from work last night at 12:30 am. ’

‛ having fallen asleep last night at 3:30 am because i couldn’t shut down my mind. ’

‛ because i couldn’t shut down my mind. ’

‛ the city never sleeps. ’

‛ as the phone rang this morning, your sweet was calling, i looked at that clock. ’

‛ how i hate that damn clock. ’

‛ i excuse myself from our date. ’

‛ see, i had to be back by mid-afternoon. ’

‛ and i know these are lame excuses and i’m so damn sorry. ’

‛ i’m so damn sorry. ’

‛ i know it’s important, but i feel like i’ve gotten my priorities beaten out of me. ’

‛ but i feel like i’ve gotten my priorities beaten out of me. ’

‛ but i feel like i’ve gotten my priorities beaten out of me with a rolled-up new york times. ’

‛ and this leash keeps tanking on my tie. ’

‛ i love ‘rhapsody in blue’ too. it’s just that he was rich when he wrote it. ’

‛ it’s just that he was rich when he wrote it. ’

‛ and only the rats, the roaches, the rubble and the rich men are free in the city. ’

SOS.

‛ this may be my final message. ’

‛ this may be the final bow. ’

‛ i’m sure i don’t know what will happen. ’

‛ i’m sure i don’t know what will happen. does it matter anyhow? ’

‛ does it matter anyhow? ’

‛ i hear footsteps down the hall. ’

‛ don’t know how much they’ll allow. ’

‛ if you’re waiting for the last reel, i think the time is now. ’

‛ i think the time is now. ’

‛ sos, oh, savior! ’

‛ sos, oh, hero! ’

‛ sos, messiah! ’

‛ yes, oh yes, oh! ’

‛ sos, oh jesus! ’

‛ sos, oh buddhal! ’

‛ sos, emmanuel!  ’

‛ this may be my final hour. ’

‛ this may be the dying day. ’

‛ though they never taught me why in school, i think i’m learning how to pray. ’

‛ i think i’m learning how to pray. ’

‛ they are right outside the door. ’

‛ don’t know why they keep on stalling. ’

‛ i know you’ve heard this all before. ’

‛ i know you’ve heard this all before, but it’s the last time that i’m calling. ’

‛ but it’s the last time that i’m calling. ’

‛ sos, almighty! ’

‛ sos, oh yahwah! ’

‛ sos, oh mighty zeus! ’

‛ sos, oh allah! ’

‛ does anybody hear? ’

‛ does anybody hear? answer me now if you do. ’

‛ answer me now if you do. ’

‛ is anybody there? ’

‛ is anybody there? i need you. ’

‛ i need you. ’

‛ this may be the curtain call. ’

‛ does it matter anymore? ’

‛ i asked why. that’s why i say make a try. it’s only a play. ’

‛ that’s why i say make a try. ’

‛ it’s only a play. ’

LOVE HEALS.

‛ like a breath of midnight air. ’

‛ like a lighthouse, like a prayer. ’

‛ like a flicker and the flare the sky reveals. ’

‛ like a walk along the shore that you’ve walked a thousand times before. ’

‛ like the ocean roars, love heals. ’

‛ there are those who shield their heart. ’

‛ those who quit before they start. ’

‛ who’ve frozen up the part of them that feels. ’

‛ in the dark they’ve lost their sight, like a ship without a star in the night. ’

‛ but it’s alright. love heals. ’

‛ love heals when pain’s too much to bear. ’

‛ when you reach out your hand and only the wind is there. ’

‛ when life’s unfair, when things like us are not meant to be. love heals. ’

‛ when you feel so small like a grain of sand, like nothing at all. ’

‛ when you look out at the sea. that’s where love will be. ’

‛ that’s where love will be. ’

‛ that’s where you’ll find me. ’

‛ you’ll find me. ’

‛ so if you fear the storm ahead as you lie awake in bed. ’

‛ no one there to stroke your head and your mind reels. ’

‛ if your face is salty wet and you’re drowning in regret, just don’t forget. ’

‛ don’t forget. ’

‛ don’t forget love heals. ’

‛ love heals. ’

PIANO.

‛ when the world is a constant jumble and a wall or two decides to tumble. ’

‛ when i think i’m at the end of the line. ’

‛ when i think i’m at the end of the line, somehow i get to you in time. ’

‛ somehow i get to you in time. ’

‛ somehow i get through to you in time. ’

‛ oh piano, you saved my soul again. ’

‛ you saved my soul again. ’

‛ oh piano, you saved my soul, amen. ’

‛ you saved my soul, amen. ’

‛ i may not play like a concert man, but i got a song to sing. ’

‛ but i got a song to sing. ’

‛ i may not play like a concert man, but i got soul. ’

‛ but i got soul. ’

‛ piano, save my soul. ’

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 3

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous  undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 4,751

Warnings: none

Of all the boys I've known, and I've known some

Until I first met you, I was lonesome

And when you came in sight, dear, my heart grew light

And this old world seemed new to me

(x)

“Grandma said today’s the New Year,” Flip told his mother as he watched her move around the kitchen. She was making dinner so it was ready for dad as soon as he came home.

She smelled of perfume, as always, and was immaculately dressed while making cooking, as always. He sat at the kitchen table, his legs swinging from his seat, not quite able to touch the ground yet. His growth spurt wouldn’t happen until seven years later when he reached thirteen. 

“Did she now?” His mother’s voice had just a hint of annoyance, one Flip didn’t yet recognize. And so he powered on. 

“She told me on the phone last week. She said we should call her today so say Luh-Sannatovah--”

“Luh-sha-NAH tov-AH,” She corrected him, opening the oven door. “And we don’t celebrate that, Grandma knows this,”

“But why not? We’re Jewish aren’t we?” 

“We don’t celebrate it Phillip, don’t ask again please,” her voice was clipped but dangerous. The roast pan clattered as she slammed it on the stove top. 

“Don’t mention this to your father when he gets home, the last thing he needs is to hear you bringing this up,”

Flip stopped swinging his legs. He kept his mouth shut from then on about the holiday from then on. 

------------

As promised Flip was at the apartment before sundown, a bottle of red wine in hand. He parked his truck on the street outside the plain brick building. He looked from the sheet of paper with her address, it said she was on the third floor. He looked up to the windows, hoping to maybe catch a glance of her before making his way into the building.

He went up the old rickety staircase, the steps groaning under his weight. He opens the door to the third floor hallway and looks for her apartment number. As he walked he could hear the different tenants going about their night. One room had a tv blaring the latest variety show, another had the game playing in the radio as some kids were running around. He finally reached her apartment door, music drifting into the hallway.

He knocked on the door and awkwardly looked around while waiting for her to open the door. He noticed a tiny brass object hammered into her door frame, just at his eye level. It was a mezuzah, which had parts of the Torah inscribed on a piece of paper inside in order to bless the home. He vaguely remembered his grandmother instructing him to touch it before coming into someone's home. He placed his fingertips to it gently, feeling the cool metal under his skin. In that moment he heard a lock unlatch and he pulled his hand back to his side right before door swing open in front of him.

"Hey you," Eliana looked up at him, opening the door wider. "Come on in, you're the first one here,"

"Hi Eliana--”

“You can call me Elle,” She interjected, walking further into the space.

 “Elle. It smells good in here," he following her into the kitchen.

He noted she was wearing a pair of chords and a simple blouse, her Star of David necklace hanging freely now that it was unrestricted by a uniform. Her hair was half pulled back and she was barefoot. For a moment he wondered if he should have taken off his shoes but before he could ask she started speaking again.

"Thanks, I've been cooking all day. Sorry it's a bit of a mess in here right now," she said, moving back to the oven to check on what was cooking inside.

"All day?" He asked.

"All day," she reaffirmed. "It's a holiday, and a lot of the traditional foods weren't really available at the supermarket. So I had to make do,"

She motioned to the kitchen table, which held an impressive amount of food. Round loaves of challah still giving off steam, bowls filled with cooked carrots and potatoes, and another platter of unidentified food filled the small table.

"Well it looks great," he said, settling the bottle of wine among the feast.

“Thanks! The chicken will be ready soon. I figured that would be friendlier than the customary fish head. Besides, my other friends don't eat a lot of fish so this was the safest option,"

"Where are your other friends?" He asked, trying to make polite conversation.

"They should be here soon. I think they're running late, Ruth always seems to be a good ten minutes late to everything. We had to change her watch to be fifteen minutes fast so she could actually get to work on time," Elle rolled her eyes and lifted herself up to sit on the counter.

The two sat in awkward silence for a moment, the only sound in the kitchen was the record player crooning pre-war tunes. The harmonizing of The Andrews Sisters poured from the speakers, playing a song he hadn’t heard since his childhood.

Bei mir bist du schön, please let me explain

Bei mir bist du schön means you're grand

Bei mir bist du schön, again I'll explain

It means you're the fairest in the land

Despite having an obvious attraction to one another, they both realized in that moment they really didn't know much about the other person.

"So... did you have any trouble finding the place?" she asked.

"No, I have a pretty good idea of where things are here. Police and all," he responded.

"Yeah, that'd make sense," she said, seeming like she was kicking herself on the inside.

"Do you need help finishing anything up?" He asked, trying to be polite.

"You could cut some apples with me, I haven't quite gotten there yet," she hopped off the counter and pulled a bowl of apples off the counter and placed it between the two of them.

"Knives are in the drawer by your leg," she pointed. He stepped back and pulled a couple out for them and they got to work.

"So any particular reason for apples? Kinda strange for dinner," He asked.

"Wow, you were serious about not celebrating, huh?" Elle said, smiling up at him. "Apples slices and honey are eaten together to symbolize having a sweet new year ahead,"

"And the fish head you mentioned?" He asked, almost not wanting an answer.

"You start with the head of the animal, its supposedly good luck. My mother used to go to the market to get sheep head, and would get mad when we wouldn't eat it,"she grimaced. "I'll take my chances with the chicken if it means my dinner isn't gonna be looking at me,"

"Understood," he said, not wanting to think about that memory.

"My siblings and I would collect the meat in napkins and toss it outside to the neighbor’s dog. My mom thankfully never caught us,"

"You have siblings?"

"An older sister and a younger brother. Rebecca is off living the housewife life with her husband and 4 kids in Brooklyn. Alex is finishing up college in Manhattan,"

"Is it hard being away from them?"

"Sometimes. Is it bad to say but I miss my brother more than my sister? I'm kinda the black sheep of the family, choosing a career over meeting a nice Jewish boy and settling down. Rebecca likes to remind me that my biological clock is ticking, she takes after mama," she tried to switch the conversation away from her. "How about you? Any siblings?"

"Nope, only child. I do get the settling down question from mom a lot though, that's seems pretty universal,"

"I guess so," she laughed. He laughed with her.

“So how did you get all the way to Colorado from New York City? Aren’t most people dying to move to your hometown?”

“New York is my home, and it will always be,” Elle mused. “But after going upstate for college, which was a good eight hours from home, I learned that I really liked my freedom,”

“I was away from my parents for the first time. I was taking classes on things that I actually liked and was making friends, and could wear pants without my mother kvetching about me looking like my brother! I love my family but being on my own felt great and I didn't know if I would be able to have that if I stayed in New York. So I took a job in Indiana at a hospital in a small city. I worked there for a few years and heard about a job opening at a hospital in Colorado that desperately needed nurses and was paying more than enough, so I thought why not? So here I am,” she gestured to the room surrounding them.

“That’s brave of you,” he noted.

“I don’t know if its brave so much as I’ve seen my sister’s life as a housewife and its encouraged me to want more. It’s like Betty Friedan said 'no woman gets an orgasm from shining the kitchen floor’—”

Flip’s lips twisted into a smile and he let out a short laugh. She realized the crassness of her quote and put a hand up to cover her mouth.

“I probably shouldn't be talking about orgasms during the high holy days,” she laughed.

“I get what you’re saying though. It’s not everyones calling,”

“And your calling is being a cop?” She changed the subject.

“I guess. I joined the military right out of high school. My dad was in the Air Force so it was expected of me. We lived on base in Nebraska, he didn’t retire until I was in my twenties. I did two tours over in Vietnam before coming back to the states and joining the Colorado Springs PD,”

“Is this the wrong time to tell you I spent a lot of time in college and post-grad protesting the war?”

“I mean, I went over there and I served but I didn't really agree with what was happening by the time I left. A lot of the people around me had been drafted. They didn't want to be there and were vocal about it, but we kept each other safe enough to get home,”

She was quiet and avoided his gaze. He knew what she was thinking. The country was so polarized about this war. It wasn’t popular by any means. He remembered the welcome he received coming home. Wearing your uniform didn't feel honorable when people called you a baby-killer as they walked by. He traded in that uniform for a CSPD one, finding it to be one of the only places where people didn’t scowl when they heard his resume.

“I didn’t kill anyone if thats what you’re thinking. My unit wasn't specialized or anything, we barely saw any action. There isn’t as much going on over there as the news is making it out to be,”

She bit the inside of her lip, cheeks flushing as she took in his words.

“I honestly hadn’t heard anything from anyone who had been over there. I appreciate you being honest about it. Sorry if I came off too strong,”

“It’s okay, I get it. Besides, you can make it up to me with dinner,”

He flashed her a cheeky smile and she shot one back his way. She looked beautiful right now, with her hair up in a loose bun from cooking and apron covering her outfit. He hoped he was appropriately dressed. He’d subbed out his usual flannel and jeans for a dress shirt and slacks. She was about to open her mouth, no doubt to shoot a sarcastic remark his way when she was suddenly interrupted.

The phone rang and she excused herself to go answer it. He found this all strangely relaxing. Slicing apples, the background music, the two of them just chatting and laughing. It was like they'd been doing this together for ages. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden change in her voice, he eavesdropped into her call in the next room.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to send some soup your way?... No, don't worry about it, you focus on getting better... Okay, I'll call you tomorrow then, L'shana Tova..." she said before hanging up the phone and coming back in the kitchen.

"Everything alright?" He asked, putting the apple slices on a plate.

"The girl that was supposed to come, Ruth, she's really sick and can't make it. So I think it's just gonna be us," she said with an air of uncertainty.

He realized she was nervous. He was practically a stranger, just sitting in her kitchen with this huge meal she’d created. With four people, it would have been a party. With two though, it was more of an awkward date. He tried to receive the tension, let her know he was okay with this.

"Oh. Well, more wine for us then?" He offered.

She broke into a relieved smile.

"More wine for us then,"

——

The sun had just started to sink over the horizon as Flip helped Elle with setting the table, the two extra chairs being dragged back into the small living room. She turned off the radio and motioned for him to sit down as she retrieved a candle that had been burning in the other room.

“You said you’ve never done this before, right? Do you want me to break some of it down for you?” She asked as she came back into the kitchen.

“Uh— yeah. I mean, yes. Please. That’d be great,” he said, wanting to seem at ease with everything that was happening.

She took the unlit candle sticks, set in silver holders, and lit them with the existing flame which she then set on the kitchen counter behind them. She turned back to the table, standing over the candles. After a deep breath through her nose she closed her eyes, waved her hands over the flames and began reciting a prayer.

If Flip was being honest, he didn't understand anything she was saying. He never went to Hebrew school. The closest was an hour away and his father basically forbid it. There were no celebrations in his house growing up, at least none that were explicitly Jewish. He never thought much of his secular upbringing, but he couldn't help but feel in awe of the way Elle stood in front of him, speaking a language that was thousands of years old.

She looked so at peace with her movements, the prayers could have meant anything to his inexperienced ears but they sounded reassuring when voiced by her. She moved to gently cover her eyes with her hands as she spoke, shielding them from the light. After she was finished, she placed the candle to the other side of the table away from the food.

“That was for lighting the candles, which is important for most of our holidays. Think of it as a signal that this is a sacred time, separate from the everyday,” She told him. “Could you pass me the wine?”

He handed her the bottle he brought her and she popped it open using a cork screw she had kept on the table. She poured some wine into a small metal cup and motioned for him to pass his own glass. His was filled as well and he listened as she recited another prayer. When she was finished, he wasn't really sure what to do with it. So he held it, waiting for her to continue.

"Say Amen, we drink it now. Kiddush cup first," she winked, taking a sip from the metal cup before passing it to him to do the same.

“That was us blessing the wine before the meal. This is good pick by the way,”

She turned her attention to the challah that was covered with a clean dish towel. She uncovered them and spoke again. Flip was starting to hear familiar words in her prayers, they all seemed to start the same way.

"Baruch Attah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Haolam…"

He couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed when she moved around with so much confidence. Elle had clearly been doing this for her whole life, and it made him think about how much of an absence there had been of this in his. There was purpose in her actions, the rituals being practiced were far older than either of them.

She broke off a piece of the challah, handing it to him before taking her own. She dipped it in a small bowl of honey, waiting for him to do the same, before bringing it to her mouth and eating it. He followed suit, met with sweet buttery bread and thick honey on his tastebuds.

“That was the HaMotzi, we’re thanking G-d for providing us bread,” She explained. “There’s one more blessing, and then we can eat. Take one of those apple slices you made and dip it into the honey,”

He did as instructed, mimicking the way she held it upward to keep the honey from dripping. He listened to her sing one more blessing, smiling to himself as he thought of how much he liked hearing her voice.

“Perfect! And now—” she took a bite of the slice. “We eat!”

“Thanks for walking me through, that was helpful,” he said as he ate his own slice.

“Of course. It’s weird to just sit there and listen to stuff you can’t understand. If Ruth and her boyfriend were here it might've been more fun, the more the merrier on holidays,”

“I’m still having fun with just you,” he looked to her, letting her know he really meant it.

She smiled at him, just staring back at him for a moment. It was hard to believe this was happening right now. He’d met Elle less than two weeks ago. He only learned her name earlier this week. And now they were having a holiday meal together in her apartment. He was used to moving fast with girls, but not like this.

“Oh no I forgot the chicken!" she gasped suddenly and rushed to the oven.

She pulled mitts on her hands and pulled the bird out in its pan. He'd forgotten about the main dish as well. There didn't seem to be any smoke so that was a good sign. She checked it over for damage.

"It's edible!" She declared, setting it down in the center of the table.

The two of them laughed before digging in.

---

Everything was delicious.

Flip couldn't remember the last time he’d had a full homemade meal. Maybe thanksgiving? Or going over to Jimmy’s one night? Whenever it was, Elle’s meal was two times better.

Between mouthfuls of food, they found time to converse. He wanted to know more about her, she was unlike anyone he’d ever met. Funny, assertive, intelligent, and had a pretty dirty mouth after a few glasses of wine.

“So you grew up an only child? Must’ve been nice having some damn peace and quiet,” she commented as he spoke about his upbringing.

“It was lonely sometimes. I think my parents might’ve wanted more kids but it just never happened. And yeah, it was really quiet. I didn’t realize how quiet until I started going to friend’s houses. My dad was a military man, very reserved and serious. And my mom was always concerned with fitting in with the neighbors,”

“That’s gotta be hard if you’re the only Jews on the block,” she sympathized.

“Yeah, we didn't really celebrate anything. Like, we had a menorah in the house but it was never lit. My parents said it was an heirloom and was too delicate for that, but I think my mom just didn't want the neighbors seeing. We even had a christmas tree up in later years,”

“Wow thats really bizarre. New York had literally everything. No one cared what you were doing for the most part. A lot of our neighbors were Jewish so there was never a second thought celebrating anything. I suppose that’s why my parents came here, the freedom of religion. There wasn’t much of that in Germany before they came over. Now they like to go all out,”

“They came before the war then?” he asked.

“Yep, 1937. They had my sister just a few months after arriving in America. Kind of an anchor baby, but don’t tell her that,”

“Do you speak German then?”

“German, Yiddish and Hebrew. They taught us German at home and we learned Hebrew in Hebrew school. We learned a little Yiddish too, but that’s just for talking at home, mostly simple stuff. I kinda wish I knew more,”

“Well, that’s still three more languages than I can speak,”

“I thought of going to school to study language. But then my mother said that’d be a good way to meet a husband and I decided to switch to nursing so I could make enough money on my own. And maybe to piss her off a bit,”

Flip laughed. He knew a lot of women went to college to get their MRS. degree, but he hadn’t heard of one who went to specifically avoid marriage.

“I’m sure she was thrilled. Eight hours away, protesting the war, and wearing pants,” he mused.

“Oh, she was ready to arrange a marriage at that point. I made the mistake of bringing home a box of rubbers one holiday break. She snooped around my bag and found it, I thought she was going to drop dead right there,”

He roared with laughter at the thought. Condoms were a very scandalous thing for a single woman to be carrying around in the 1960’s. For her even to obtain them was a mystery he thought was best unsolved. She was certainly ready to cause trouble at ever turn, and he loved it.

“I stole a cigarette from my father in middle school and went to the edge of the base to smoke it. One of the other officers caught me and told my dad. I don’t think I was more scared in my life than coming home and finding him in the living room with a belt next to him,”

She gasped before laughing again.

“Well was it worth it?”

“I smoke the same brand as him after all these years, it all worked out somehow,”

“I’m having trouble picturing you as a little trouble-maker, officer Zimmerman,” she confided, lips turned up.

“And I can’t see you as prim and proper. I saw you in your nurse uniform just a few days ago, looking all professional and crisp but then you’re telling me stories that make you out to be a hell-raiser,”

“I was a part of the National Organization for Women back in New York and Indiana, not to keep adding on to your narrative,”

N.O.W. was something he’d read about in the news, or seen on tv. A feminist group that was often demonized and dismissed. Passed off as a bunch of crazy women looking to achieve something that would never come about. He’d take those news stories with a grain of salt. He saw nothing wrong with a strong woman.

“A bra burn-er huh? You might need them here in Colorado, it gets pretty cold you know,” he teased.

“I’ll have you know my bras are fully in tact, thank you very much! We were more focused on getting the Equal Rights Amendment passed,” she informs him.

“Best of luck getting anything passed in Congress. But maybe there’s a chapter around here you could join,” he offered.

“You’re okay with me being a feminist?” she asked.

He was taken aback for a moment, unsure of how to answer that.

“Yeah. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Gotta be passionate about something, right?”

“And what are you passionate about Flip Zimmerman?” she rested her chin on her hand as she waited for his response.

He didn’t have one.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But this chicken sure is a forerunner,”

She gave him an odd little smile, somewhere between amusement and pity.

“You can take some home if you’d like, there’s more than enough,”

“I might have to take you up on that,”

They talked the night away, moving from the table to the couch once they were both full. The wine bottle followed them, perching on the coffee table as they spoke. They were just touching, her figure curled up on the cushion next to him, the two of them facing each other in the dim light.

She made him laugh like crazy and he did the same. They exchanged more childhood stories, and he filled her in on some of the more wild cases he’d been apart of on the force. Once they had both finished their last glass, things started to get heated.

What was ‘just touching’ became his large hand resting on her thigh. She rested her hand on his bicep as they spoke. And slowly, their faces grew closer and closer together until their words died on their lips. He was the one who bridged the gap, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He was testing his luck, seeing if she was feeling the same way he was. She quickly returned the kiss, deepening between them.

It wasn’t long before the two of them were making out on her couch like teenagers. She moved to his lap, straddling him as they kissed. His hands settled on her waist and her’s rested on his shoulders. Flip hadn’t done this in a long while, just kiss a girl, really take his time. It was nice.

She broke a part their kiss, touching her nose to his as she spoke with a hushed tone.

“I have another bottle of wine we could open if you wanna stay a while,”

He thought about it. Of course he wanted to spend the night with her, she was fucking gorgeous. He would spend every night with her if he could. But that was part of the problem.

He wasn’t going to be able to one-and-done it with Elle. He liked her too much. He liked getting to know her and eating dinner with her and even preparing dinner with her. He wanted to get to know a girl with her clothes still on. Who was he turning in to?

New year, new Flip Zimmerman.

“As much as I would love that sweetheart, I gotta get up early for work tomorrow,” he heard himself say.

She looked disappointed. He felt disappointed in himself, to be honest.

“But this was nice. I’d like to do it again sometime,” he assured.

“You know Rosh Hashanah only happens once a year, right?” she teased. He chuckled.

“I mean us getting together and having a good time. Maybe more of this?” He accentuated his words by rubbing his hands down her sides.

“I think that could be arranged,” she hummed. “Yom Kippur in next week, I suppose you don’t so anything for that either?”

“I can’t say I do,”

“Well if you’re not up for fasting, you’re welcome to break fast with me. Maybe with some Chinese food from the place around the corner?”

“I’d like that. Not the fasting part, but after,”

She kissed him again, looping her arms around his neck as if to keep him there just a little bit longer. He felt himself getting tighter in his jeans, a sign that he should stop before the alcohol makes any major decision for them. He broke the kiss, lifting her from his lap with ease before setting her on her feet.

Her curls were slightly disheveled and her blouse was un-tucking but she still looked beautiful. She ran a finger over his Star of David before trailing into the next room.

“I’ll pack some of this up for you. You can get the Tupperware back to me whenever, there’s no rush,” she called from the other room.

he awkwardly stood on the doorway of the kitchen as she worked, not wanting to get in her way. She seemed to know what she was doing.

“You need any help with the clean up?” he asked.

“No, thanks for asking but don’t worry about it. It’ll help me sober up,” she joked. At least he wasn’t the only one who needed the break from the wine.

She strode over to him, three pink Tupperware containers in hand. He took them into his arms, cradling them so they wouldn't fall.

“I hope that’s enough,” she chewed at her lip.

“More than enough, thank you. And thank you for inviting me over. I hope your friend feels better,”

“I’ll tell her you said that, thanks. So I’ll see you soon?” she looked up at him with eager eyes. He had a feeling not just anyone got to see that.

“I’ll give you a ring tomorrow if you want. Around eight?”

Her face lit up.

“Perfect, I’ll hold you to it,” she warned him.

“Alright. Happy New Year Elle,”

“L’Shana Tova Flip,”

He swooped down to give her one last kiss before walking out the door.

“L’shana Tova” he mumbled as he walked down the hall, Tupperware in hand and a small grin on his face.

---------

Notes:

The light irony of having a Jewish New Year chapter released around the first week of 2019. Happy New Year! I tried to write Rosh Hashanah to the best of my ability, my family is on the Lite(TM) end of Judaism, so I asked a lot of friends about their family’s customs to help make sure everything was good. If anyone does anything differently, I’d love to hear it!

-For those who don’t celebrate Rosh Hashanah, it’s a two day celebration that is at the beginning of the seventh month of the Jewish calendar (which is different from the Roman one we use, thats why Jewish holidays fall on different days every year). It’s about the celebration and reflection of the last year, the latter helps prepare for Yom Kippur, The Day of Atonement. 

-Rosh Hashanah usually has a service you attend, but Elle is new in town and I would think too busy with double shifts to make it to synagogue (if there were any close by at all). Dinner can be a big affair depending on what your family likes to do. There is a lot of symbolism involved in the food choices, and with two nights of celebration there are different customs for each night. For example, eating a new fruit is customary on the second night, but that isn’t written about in this chapter as it was only the first night. 

-Kvetching is Yiddish for complaining/bitching

-Betty Friedan’s quote is from her book The Feminine Mystique, which was a huge influence for the second wave of feminism. She also co-founded the National Organization for Women (NOW). She also believed associating with the LGBT community would hurt Women’s Rights, calling lesbians “The Lavender Menace” (which is obviously shitty)

-the 1960′s was a turning point in the national attitude toward sex. The Sexual Revolution in the 60′s and 70��s made sex more of an open topic, but a lot of things were still taboo. Condoms for unmarried women in the 60′s were hard to come by. Also remember, Roe v. Wade was 1973. Abortion was still illegal at this time.

-I absolutely do not advocate punishing children with belts. But Flip grew up in the 40′s/50′s/60′s where corporal punishment was unfortunately a lot more common.

-I head cannon that Flip grew up on Offut Air Force Base in Nebraska. 

-I head cannon that Elle went to nursing school in Buffalo, NY. The State University system would have been cheaper than private school, which her parents would have probably appreciated. SUNY schools were really big on protests in the 1960′s and 1970′s, some of the schools even having uneven staircases installed on campus that make it more difficult to riot (no joke). 

-Voicemail wasn’t invented until the last ‘70s, if you wanted to call someone, it was best to tell them what time you were calling. 

[maealbert]

The Liaison // Birth

AU Characters: Team x OC (Lucy De Luca) A/N: Love ya’ll! Hope you enjoy! :) Master List The Liaison

tag list: @idkbutspencer @literallyprentissstwin @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @cynbx @tenaciousarcadeexpert @rawritsmolly @dontshootmespence @princesswagger15 @drspencerreider @illegalcerebral @marvelfanlife @rt8815 @punkpenguin2019 @extremeobsessions101

Today started like any normal day. Alarm clock went off at seven o’clock, everyone took showers and got dressed with either work or school. Spencer packed the lunches for the girls while Lucy got their go bags ready in case another case came through. The sun was just rising as they left the apartment to drop the girls off at school. Kisses goodbye before Julianne walked Vivien to her class and went off to her homeroom. They flashed their badges at the guards who let them into the parking garage. It was a quiet ride up to their floor, Lucy’s head resting on Spencer’s shoulder. Once the elevators came up to their floor, they went their separate ways. Lucy to her office and Spencer to the bullpen.

Everything still seemed normal.

Reaching her desk, she sets her bag down on the floor. She brought it knowing real well that Emily wanted her to stay here in case she went into labor. Right as she sat down, a knock came on her door. Garcia peered her head in. “Hey pretty mama.”

Lucy scoffs rolling her eyes. “I don’t feel so pretty.”

“Do we have a case today?”

“I haven’t finished going through these files yet to determine where we go next.”

“Please somewhere sunny.”

“Sorry boo,” Lucy says shaking her head. “Not this time. We either have Alaska or Connecticut. Not that you would mind either way, you get to stay here in your warm office.”

“True, true. I was just hoping for you guys. Do you need me to get your anything?”

“No, I’m good right now. I’ll probably make Spencer go get food on our lunch break.”

“Well holler if you need anything.” She says before leaving the office.

Still.. Everything was normal.

Finishing her case files, she grabs her phone and shoots a text to the team to be ready in the briefing room. Picking up the stack of files, she leaves her office and heads to the briefing room. She turned on the tv and pulled everything up. Seeing one of the photos come up of a woman, she held her stomach. Taking in a deep breath, she turns away from the screen and starts to place the files around the table at the different spots before taking a seat in her own chair. One by one the team filed into the room and taking their seats at the table.

“Oooo Connecticut.” Rossi says opening his file. “Beautiful place, but not beautiful pictures.”

“So far three women were reported missing since October,” Lucy started to explain the case. “Two turned up dead in different alleyways around the town square. The third, who was the last to go missing in October, turned up alive at the police department. She was bruised pretty badly around her face and she has bruises on her wrists.”

“The same as the first two victims.” Emily pointed out.

“They were pregnant?” Luke says.

Lucy nods her head. “All three were at least seven months pregnant when they went missing.”

“And the babies?” JJ questions. “What happened to them?”

Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “No babies were dropped off at the church, fire department, or the hospital.”

“The unsub could be keeping them,” Spencer speaks up. “It’s kind of like that one case we had years ago when girls were kidnapped, impregnated and killed after giving birth. The boys were kept but the girls were dropped off churches or hospitals.”

“But none showed up at either place,” Lucy says. “I checked with all three places and none reported anyone dropping off newborns.”

“They could have gone out of state.” Matt says. “If they don’t want the child to be found, it’s easier to drop them off over the border than to keep them in town.”

Lucy’s phone vibrated on the table and she lifted it to see a text from the lead Detective on the case from Hartford. “Well.. Another woman went missing. She’s nine months pregnant and due any day. Husband reported her missing when she didn’t come home last night. He said he thought she would be home when he was already asleep but when he woke up this morning, he found the bed empty beside him. No sign of her anywhere in the house, the car was found still at the doctor’s office just like the other three women.”

“Abducting women in broad daylight,” Emily says nodding her head. “That’s very risky.”

“I’m still waiting on the security footage to be pulled from the doctor’s office to see if we can try to identify who abducted killed this women.”

“Good, stay on top of that. When it comes through, I want files sent to both Garcia’s computer and to mine. She narrow down the height to help us narrow down our list and we’ll be able to profile the unsub from Connecticut. When we land, I want JJ, Rossi, and Tara to go speak with the husband of our fourth victim. Reid, you’ll go with Luke to scope out the crime scenes and see what you can gather with location, view of the alleyways from around the town and see if our unsub could have been spotted on traffic cameras of security cameras from other shops. Matt, you’ll be with me setting up at the station and speaking with the Detective. And Lucy--”

“I’m staying here, I know.” Lucy says as she gets up from her chair.

“Yay! You get to hang out with me.” Garcia says as she hugs Lucy.

‘Good luck.’ JJ mouths holding up her thumbs before leaving the briefing room behind the others.

___________________

Lucy turned side to side in one of Garcia’s spinny chairs as she watched Garcia type quickly on her keyboard. Suddenly a video chat popped up revealing the other team members. “Hey all, I was able to figure out the height of our unsub. About five feet, six inches.” She says pulling height measurements.

“We can’t tell if it’s a male or female.” Luke says. “Do either of you see something that we missed?”

Lucy leaned forward in her chair as she looked closer at the security footage. This video was filmed right outside of the doctor’s office. She took the mouse out of Garcia’s hand and pulled up the other footages from various shops that had the alleyways in their view. “I stopped all the videos when our unsub appeared to see if it were the same person, because you know how our luck is….” Her voice trails off as she notices something in all three video feeds. “Wait..”

“What did you find?” Emily asks.

“Either our unsub is a virgin or their married.” Lucy says. “But that’s not all.”

“What else are you finding, Luce?” Spencer says.

“I see hair.” She says. “You can’t see it in the footage from the doctor’s office but you can see enough of it in the others to know it’s a female.”

“Damn she’s good.” Luke says.

“I play a lot of hidden objects games. It’s easy for me to spot things out of the ordinary.” Lucy says. “She must have a purple ombre because you can see some of her black hair underneath her hoodie.” Lucy forward all four videos until she got the unsub’s face shown. “Garcia, do you think you can try to get a photo recognition from these?”

“I can try.”

“Thanks Lucy, Garcia send us what you find.” Emily says before she logs out of the video chat. Leaning back in the chair, Lucy begins rubbing her stomach as she feels a contraction hit. Keeping a straight face she continues rubbing her stomach until the pain subsides.

Back in Washington, Connecticut; the team starts going over all of the information that they had so far. “So we now know we’re looking for a female with a purple ombre,” JJ speaks up. “How easy could that be?”

“Not so easy.” Luke says. “If we go out looking for her, she could just hide.”

“Guys guys guys!” Garcia exclaims as the video chat pops back up.

“That was quick.” Matt says as he turns his attention to the laptop.

“Did you get an ID?” Emily asks.

“And more!” Garcia exclaims again. “Thanks to our keen eye over here,” She says pointing at Lucy. “I ran recognition through every day data base known to man and BINGO! Our unsub pops up. Although the photo that came up is from her time in juvie. But I did some photoshop and changed her hair to what it looks like now and BAM!” She shoots the photo over. “I give you twenty-one year old, Marie Gilmore. Such a sweet girl who got mixed up in the wrong crowd. Drugs, illegal drinking, vandalism, trespassing, and the gig that landed her in juvie is assault and battery. She was in there for two years before being released at eighteen. Still a druggie though.”

“Whoa whoa, bring up the photo of the girl she beat up in high school.” When Garcia pulled up the photo of the girl, Lucy compared the photo to all four women. “Guys, do you see what I see?”

“The patterns are the same.” JJ says.

“Look at their wrists.” Rossi says pointing between all four photos.

“Do you think that she did the same thing to these women like the girl in high school?”

“It’s a possibility,” Emily says. “We can’t rule it out.”

A knock comes on Garcia’s office door. “Come in!” Garcia calls.

“Hey Garcia, I was wondering if you had any--Oh, I didn’t realize you were in the middle of a conversation.” Hotch says.

“No you’re fine! What brings you by?”

“I need tape.” He says.

Lucy chuckles as she rubs her stomach again. “You came all this way for some tape?”

“No, I was already here.” He says as Garcia hands him her tape dispenser.

“Oh yeah! You start today!”

“Wait, what?” Lucy says looking between the two.

“Yeah I’m your fill-in when you go on maternity leave.”

“But I’m not even on maternity leave yet.”

“I know, I’m just helping you with some paperwork right now. Don’t worry, I know you have a system. Emily explained to me how you do it.”

“Well…” Lucy says turning back around. “Good. Because I think I’m in labor.”

“What?!” Garcia and Hotch exclaimed followed by the team over the video chat.

Soon Spencer rushed out of the room. “Spence!” JJ calls running after him.

“My wife is in labor!”

“You forgot the keys!” She says tossing him the car keys to one of the SUVs outside. “Good luck!”

________________________

“No, I can’t do this.” Lucy says shaking her head. Garcia was trying to keep her calm and not to stress herself out. “I need Spencer. Spencer needs to be here. I can’t do this without.”

“Relax, everything is going to be okay.”

“Garcia, he can’t miss the birth of our baby--Oh my gosh, the girls! Someone has to pick them up from school!”

“Don’t worry about them. I sent Hotch to go pick them up.”

A knock comes on the door before a few nurses walk in followed by the doctor. “I’ve been informed that you’re dilated enough to start pushing.”

“No, no, no.” Lucy says shaking her head. “Can’t we wait until my fiance gets here? He can’t miss this.. Please, I need him.” Lucy says, her eyes watering over.

“We can’t wait, Lucy.” The doctor says. “Now when I tell you to, I need you to push.” The doctor says as she positions her on her stool. “And push!” Lucy’s screams filled the room as she gave her all.

Her screams filled the room as pain coursed through her body. Marie hovered over the woman as she kept pushing. “One more!” The doctor says as she looks up at Lucy. “He’s almost here.” Marie says as her smile grows bigger. “He’s here!” The doctor exclaims holding up a baby boy for Lucy see.

“Can I see him?” The woman says as she lifts her head from the pillow. “Can I see my baby?” Marie ignores the woman as she wraps the baby up in a blanket and leaves the room. The woman yelled after her and crying for her baby.

“You did it.” Garcia says as the nurse places the baby boy on Lucy’s chest. “He’s gorgeous.”

Marie heads for the nursery when she hears a click of a gun behind her. Stopping her tracks, she keeps her back faced to JJ. “Slowly turn around.” She growls. JJ wasn’t the type to take kindly to an abductor. Especially ones who kidnapped children. Marie slowly turned on her heels and looked up at JJ. Keeping her gun train on Marie, she loops her other arm around the baby and bringing him into her chest careful not to wake him. Emily walks around them and handcuffs Marie’s hands behind her back.

“Marie Gilmore, you’re under arrest for the four abductions, three murders, and four kidnappings. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can’t afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand your rights?”

“Yes..” Marie muttered as she still stared at the baby.

Lucy couldn’t take her eyes off of her son. Though he only had a little bit of dark hair on his head, she had a feeling it would grow out to be like his father’s. A knock came on the door and Hotch peered his head in. “How are you feeling?” He asks walking over to the bed.

“Just really tired,” Lucy says smiling down at her baby. “It happened so quickly.”

“I was surprised.” Hotch says chuckling. “Have you picked out a name yet?”

Lucy nods her head. “Isaiah Derek Reid.”

“Oh Derek is going to love his name.” Garcia says as she snaps a photo of Lucy and Isaiah and sending it to the team. Lucy’s phone buzzed on the table beside the bed.

“Hello?” Lucy answers once Garcia handed her her phone.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?”

“Tired..”

“I bet. I took a red A and I should be there in about an hour. Get as rest as you can, alright? I love you.”

“I love you too.”

_______________________

“How did the case go?” Lucy asks the team.

“Deja vu, I swear.” Rossi says rubbing his forehead. “Kathleen gave birth at the same time you did. A baby boy.”

“And Marie? How did it end for her?”

“I think once she got a look at JJ, she didn’t think twice about wanting to fight her off.” Emily laughs. “If looks could kill…”

JJ rolls her eyes as she smiles. “Don’t mess with her.” Luke jokes playfully pushing JJ.

“Well I’m glad you guys came,” Lucy says. “But I really want to thank Garcia. She is a trooper!” Lucy adds with a laugh.

“I did not pass out,” Garcia says nodding her head. “I am quite proud of myself.”

“I’m sorry, can I hold him again?” Emily asks. “He’s just so darn tiny!”

If you enjoyed this than please be sure to leave it some love!

Btw, did this remind of when JJ went into labor?

[maracate]

Fic rec list for @maternalcube

I avoided everything explicit and most of the things that haven’t updated since feb (unless I really liked it) which makes this list about 300% shorter (and also means there are very few soulmate aus, people do not like to finish those)

it’s still long though, so under the cut

Finished:

Unwritten (T)

Every Victor Nikiforov fan has three things in common. 1. They have unrealistic expectations for romance. 2. They mark their calendars with the dates of his newest book releases and the premieres of his latest movie adaptations. 3. They either passionately hate or love his greatest rival, a mysterious author whose pseudonym is only two letters: “KY.”

High flying, adored (G)

Being a superhero is hard. It's even harder when you're desperately in love with the most famous figure skater in the world, who never seems to notice you. Of course it doesn't help that he's a superhero too--and he's head over heels for your alter-ego.

Enjoy the awkward fumblings of these two erstwhile masked men as they dance the terrifying tango of young love and secret identities.

Starstruck (T)

(in which yuuri is a simple barista, viktor is a famous movie star, and yuri is an 8 year old kid stuck in the middle of it.)

Autumn in detroit (M but i think that’s for violence)

In a world where Viktor Nikiforov was forced to retire early due to a leg injury, he sought work instead as a police detective in Detroit. Now a young skater with a poster of him on his bedroom door has gone missing and Viktor knows beyond a doubt it's the work of a man who's been brutally murdering professional dancers for years. It's impossible not to take this case personally. Viktor will find Yuuri Katsuki.

Entwinning fates (T)

Imagine if Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, after the demise of you-know-who, started accepting foreign students in an effort for greater unity among wizarding communities around the world. Imagine that, in this changing climate of diversity and social acceptance, Hogwarts also decided to host an exchange programme with select students from Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic for a semester.

Imagine, then, if a young Japanese wizard by the name of Yuuri Katsuki had transferred to Hogwarts to escape his past, just in time to meet a Russian Quidditch player who would blow open the very doors he was trying so desperately to close.

A story of love, magic, and teenagers trying to find themselves.

Dear mama (T)

In which Victor writes letters to his mother, who is fifty percent of his rationality and self-control.

Like your french girls (T)

in which Victor is an artist, Yuuri is his figure skating muse, and Yuri is so done hearing about their stupid love story through Instagram

Unwritten (T)

Soulmates AU where whatever you write on your own skin appears on your soulmate, but when there is a language barrier, meeting becomes just a little more difficult than it should be. 

I love you, my dear (T)

Musician au where famous YouTube singer Victor is practically in love with a famous singer/lyricist named Lilith (who has never revealed his true identity to the public). Victor feels compelled to go to Lilith's first show of his world tour (even though he's never met him) and on the flight there, he sits next to this guy named Yuri, completely oblivious to the fact that Yuri is his idol, Lilith.

or, the one where Yuri/Lilith accidentally says "I love you, my dear" to a man he has never met before.

Unfinished:

The power of love (T)

“The two Japanese singles medalists make a beautiful pair! Here, at the 2009 Tokyo GPF, we have the start of this power couple’s reign!” Yuuko and Yuuri dominate the singles skating competition as Japan’s power couple—except they aren’t a couple, and when their old skating idol stumbles into their personal life, everything rapidly goes downhill. 

The ice prince’s rose garden (T)

Light political struggle and mystery all spun up with master/servant Viktuuri.

bear your soul on the ice (M but it’s mostly in passing)

At age fourteen, Katsuki Yuuri had been determined to be Japan's next great figure skating hope, but with no coach that would never happen, so his ballet instructor packs him up off to Russia to train with Yakov Feltsman. The Yakov Feltsman, otherwise known as the coach to rising figure skating star -- and Yuuri's idol -- Viktor Nikiforov.

Dancing daffodils (M but I think it’s for violence? idk)

A god falls for a man.

Expomise (T)

Expomise: a transformation spell that bonds two objects together. / Yuuri is at Hogwarts. So is everyone else./

Nuclear hearts club (T)

Being seventeen and chronically confused isn't always a walk in the park - especially when you've been crushing on your brother's best friend since you were nine. You'd be crazy not to. Victor's the best thing to happen to the world since sliced bread.

(Join Yuuri Katsuki on this pine-fueled adventure full of teen angst and astronomical fuckery.)

A thread of silver (T)

Once upon a time, there was a boy who got lost in the woods... AU. Inspired by various fairy tales and mythologies.

That old-time religion (T)

Yuuri is pretty sure that when an impossible stranger turns up and tells you he’s the god of victory, it doesn’t matter how good-looking he is. The moment he asks you to abandon your mortal life and come back to his mountain kingdom with him, you turn around and walk away.

An AU based loosely around the Greco-Roman pantheon. Very loosely.

Death or glory (T)

aka 'The Hunger Games AU that happened by accident'. May the odds be ever in your favour.

I’d rather be skating (M for some reason idk)

Sometimes, when a muggle child gets an acceptance letter from a wizarding school, they say no.

Victor Nikiforov would rather be skating. Yuuri Katsuki would rather be normal.

The rules for lovers (T)

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well…

That’s a long story.

Like a fairytale (T)

In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his 'Cinderella' Yuuri. (And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he's doing).

not gold like in your dreams (T)

in which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret

taking the long way home (T)

In which Vicchan never died, Yuuri won bronze at the Grand Prix Final, didn't get drunk at the banquet, and never made Victor fall in love with him./

Aria: Stammi Vicino, Non Te Ne Andare (T)

The tale of a lonely traveler, Victor Nikiforov, and his encounter with an equally lonely immortal man.

Alternatively: the tale of Yuuri Katsuki, who never ages and never dies and has lived frozen in time for centuries, and his attempts to keep his adopted son from killing the new guest.

Destiny may ride with us (T)

Viktor Nikiforov spent the first twenty seven years of his life waiting for something exciting to happen. And then, it did.

AU in which Yuuri is a little bit more than human, someone seems to be stealing all of Viktor's spoons, and Yurio is the only person who thinks this is all rather strange.

Lost and found (T)

AU in which: Yuuri is a cop who works at the Hasetsu policebox, and Victor is the new skate instructor in town who almost always ends up on the steps of the aforementioned policebox to flirt with him.

The Castle Atop the Hill (T)

In a cursed land covered in unforgiving ice, Yuuri becomes a knight so that he and his family can survive. In the castle is where he finds Viktor, a prince with a magical gift, whom Yuuri believed could save anyone. But maybe Viktor needs saving too. 

One Shots:

Drunk on you (T)

A one-shot collection of soulmate AUs.

What you should know about dating a man with children (G)

"AU scenario where the skaters mistake the triplets for Yuuri's kids when they first meet him, possibly when he brings them to the skater-only area as a b-day treat, or something? (Kudos if you can work in jealous!Victor somehow, but the skaters having a fun reaction would be A+, tbh. Would be lovely if you could include Chris and/or Yurio :D )"

I’m just going to the store (T)

Accidental masked vigilante Victor Nikiforov.

Or: how Victor's impulsiveness backfires and creates one of the greatest living internet memes to ever come out of Russia.

hood and glove (T)

"I don't mess with the fae," Otabek says.

"I'm not asking you to mess with them," JJ flat-out lies.

"The Adventures of Sparkly Elf and Soft Hobbit, Endured With Great Patience by The Bright And Powerful, Best In The Land, Yuri Plisetsky." (T)

Critics have always considered "The Adventures of Sparkly Elf and Soft Hobbit, Endured With Great Patience by The Bright And Powerful, Best In The Land, Yuri Plisetsky." one of the most faithful descriptions of Legend Victor Nikiforov, the greatest elven fighter for more than eight centuries. Although it is narrated by Plisetsky as an adolescent, and thus contains strong language and spends more time ridiculizing his travelling companions than giving thoughtful insight into Nikiforov's psyche, it still remains as an essential reading in every scholar that decides to study Nikiforov [...] // Day 95: Caught Nikiforov writing love poems. Am appalled at bad writing more than anything else. Example: “I really like your dark eyes / and all the other parts of your face. Your butt is the perfect size / and I would love to see you in lace.” Hope the Hobbit cannot read, or am afraid this love story will not have a pleasant ending.

Never tasted rubies (T)

in which Yuuri is an unwilling radio host and Victor won't stop calling in to chat with him

love me do: a victuuri week compilation (t)

Every chapter is a short fic based on one of the Victuuri Week prompts.

The Goddamn Tie Has Got To Go (T)

Dear God. Yuuri was wearing the tie again.

The powdery blue monstrosity was not only unfashionable (and where did Yuuri even manage to acquire such a tie?), it also reminded Viktor, with shocking clarity, of a sweaty, half naked, pole dancing Yuuri. It reminded him of a night of joy, a night of passion. The night where he was finally, and without warning, lifted from the fog that had crept up on him in his last few years of skating.

Understandably, it elicited quite the unfavorable reaction in him when they were out in public.

For the sake of his remaining dignity, Viktor needed to improvise a plan to dispose of it as soon as possible.

Welcome Aboard Eros, Commander (T)

Commander Nikiforov is frustrated. For years, he has been chasing Eros, the most elusive pirate ship to ever sail the Seven Seas, and its even more elusive captain, whom it appears no one has ever been able to lay their eyes on. With the threat of every royal treasury in the whole of the Caribbean soon being emptied down to the last coin, the commander sets sail again, determined to track down Eros and its captain once and for all.

That is, if the mysterious Captain Katsuki doesn't find him first.

Victuuriweek day 2: Traveling AU: Historical

Winter Solitude  (T)

Victor was cursed by a fellow competitor many years ago, jealous of his skills on the ice. The curse limited Victor to a lake in Hasetsu, Japan, where he appears to others as a blue-tinted human.

He can't age. He can't leave. And he can't let himself feel emotions for the pain it causes.

But a skater comes to the frozen lake one day and ignites a fire in his heart that he hadn't felt in years.

Series:

Cubicle gods

Flourist and wedding planner au

stop, erase, rewind

Haven (okay this series is E and kind of messed up maybe? but i love it)

have you heard there's a rumour in st. petersburg

A Real Life Cinnamon Roll

Even Ice Gods Can Melt

warm-up hogwash

must love dogs

[sarah--writes-blog]

A Group Effort

Anon: I would love to see my boy Lance with a headcold!! Make him suffer :')

Anon: i'd like to see Lance with a headcold! and i dont care more than that. just as long as i can see my boy with a snuffly nose.

A/N: This is my first cold-based fic! I’m much more used to fever- and stomach-based things, so here we go with expanding horizons! Pray for me and spelling out sneezes. This had a lot of Lance and Keith still hating each other, it almost hurt my heart to write after all the Klance stuff.

It’s silent in space. It is a vacuum, there’s no medium for sound to travel through. Even while in their lions, practicing maneuvering through fodder the castleship threw at them, the paladins remained silent and focused. It didn’t last long. “Hh’ktCHhsx!” “Alright. That’s it. I’m done. I’m going back to the castle.” The other four paladins sounded off in Keith’s ear. “Wait, why?” “I don’t understand.” “What’s happening?” “What is it, Keith?” “I am done listening to Lance sneeze into the intercom.”

Lance ungracefully wiped his nose from under the helmet, “Listening to you is no walk in the park either.”

A green waveform popped up on Lance’s interface, “Keith’s right. You sound pretty awful. And...it is kind of gross to hear someone sneeze right in your ear.”

“It’s just the common cold, Pidge. Everyone gets them, I’ll be fine.”

A yellow waveform joined the green one, “Yeah, but you still sound pretty gross.”

And finally, a purple one, “Also, the ‘common cold’ doesn't exist in space. None of us had it that you could get it from. We should probably check this out more.”

When Shiro put it that way, Lance actually felt some concern. It didn’t feel any worse than a normal cold on Earth - one that everyone gets millions of times. He was still about to function like a normal person and only had to carry around some tissues and strange Altean cough drops. To the Alteans’ credit, their red and purple cough drops were way better than the ones on Earth. He could eat them like candy.

But Shiro’s comments planted worry in his head. It was just a head cold....right? It would pass in just a few more days...right?

Lance sighed and turned the Blue Lion around, “Alright, I’ll head back early. You guys finish the drill so Allura doesn’t tear us a new one.” “We’ll see you back there soon.”

When Lance docked his lion and stepped out, Coran was the first one to greet him.

“LANCE GET INTO THE HEALING POD!”

The Blue Paladin locked his joints, making a stiff barrier between him and the open healing pod. Coran was a lot stronger than he thought.

“I'm alright, Coran! It’s a just a head cold!”

“I don't care what it is, you're leaking brain fluid from your facial orifices! Get in the pod!”

“I told you, it's just snot! Mucus? And tears after sneezing so much? Stop it, I'm...hh... h’cckXTCHn! I’m fine!”

“There you go again! You’ll lose all your brain fluid! You didn’t tell me humans get diseases as drastic as this!”

“It’s not brain fluid!”

Coran wasn’t listening. In a final attempt to save the paladin from his early demise, he threw himself at Lance, toppling them both into the open healing pod. Before Coran could scramble up and hit the controls, Shiro stepped into the room.

“Lance, where did you-” he eyed the situation, “Um...”

Coran got to his feet, pinning Lance in the pod, “Shiro, hit the controls! We have to get Lance healing before his skull drains completely!”

Shiro made no movement towards the controls. Instead, he casually walked over to the Altean and tossed him to the side with little effort. 

“Coran, his skull isn’t draining. We think he just has a cold. It’s a human illness that’s very common and completely harmless,” Shiro offered a hand to help Lance up, “Were you able to use Pidge’s Diagnostic System, or whatever that thing is?”

Lance was hauled to his feet, and coughed a few times, “No, Coran got to me first.”

“And right I did! If you had actually been losing brain fluid, you would’ve perished by now!” Coran blushed a bit as he straightened his coat, “I may have been...a bit overhasty in my judgment, though.”

“Which is exactly why Pidge made that code. There are too many foreign space viruses to actually be sure of what we have.” Shiro said, leading the way to Pidge’s workshop.

Lance smiled at the Altean, “It’s alright, Coran. If I were actually leaking my brains out, you’d be the first person I’d go to.”

That seemed to make Coran stand a little taller.

Pidge’s device was something she made in her free time after what the team called “The Great Plague of Week 15”. After fifteen healthy weeks in space, they landed on a planet that showed them no mercy. Everyone seemed to catch some sort of alien virus, sending the team into a mass panic about what to do and if they were going to survive. Pidge was able to make her way through the castleship’s data logs, and find something of a Universal WebMD that the Altean doctors used as reference before the Galra attacked. Since the Alteans were a diplomatic race, they gathered information from other planets and species as well, creating the ultimate database of medical knowledge.

It was still a work in progress. The Altean files were, of course, in Altean, and Pidge had to upload what Earth knowledge she could. She was still working on a reasonable search engine, and the program still worked like WebMD, often citing space cancer as the cause to a simple twitch. But it was better than being completely in the dark about strange symptoms. Even though none of the diseases the paladins caught in Week 15 were fatal, they all claim that Pidge saved their lives. She didn’t say otherwise.

When Lance entered his data, a few options came up. One was the common cold, as everyone suspected. Another came up in a language Pidge hadn’t translated yet. The last one was the equivalent to Balmeran Sickle-Cell Disease, but Shiro immediately out ruled it. In earnest, there was a fraction of a chance that it was Balmeran Sickle-Cell, but the Black Paladin didn’t want to cause any more panic that already ensued. After his encounter with Slav, he didn’t want to waste any more time with minuscule percentages and alternate universes.

By then, the rest of the paladins caught up and joined the three in the workshop. Hunk burst in first, looking as if he was on the verge of tears.

“Is Lance gonna die?!”

Shiro frowned, “What? No, he’s perfectly fine. Why did-”

“Keith said something about a killer space flu.” Pidge sighed. She adjusted her glasses and looked at the lines of code on the screen, “Did it give you any kind of space cancer again?”

“Not this time. It’s just a head cold.”

Hunk ran up to the Blue Paladin and embraced him in a huge hug, “Oh thank God! I thought we were gonna have to find a new paladin! I’m so glad you just have a gross cold instead of something serious!” Hunk paused, then quickly peeled himself away from Lance, “Please don’t infect me.”

“I’m not going to-...to infect....ah-ktCHN!”

Everyone immediately took a step backward. At least he managed to cover his mouth this time.

“So now that we know it’s just a cold, how do we get him to stop sneezing?” Keith said, arms crossed as usual, “Or coughing? Or anything?”

“There’s not exactly a cure for the common cold, Keith,” Pidge replied from behind her computer, “That’s why we still have it. It keeps evolving different strands to resist our antibodies.”

“Bullshit, there's no cure!” Hunk took Lance by the hand and started dragging him to the kitchen, “My Mama used to make the best soup for colds, and me and my cousins would get over it within a day. C’mon, let's see what I can do.”

After hours of bowl clattering and scavenging, Hunk found what he deemed necessary. A half-hour after that, a bowl of steaming soup was placed before Lance. “Not exactly Mama Garrett’s recipe, but it's close enough for being in space if I do say so myself.” Hunk grinned. 

The other paladins looked on in awe. Despite all the Altean ingredients, the soup truly looked like something from Earth. Lance assumed that it smelled like home as well, but all sense of smell had been lost a long time ago. He hoped he could still taste it.

Because Hunk had made three pots of soup, he dished some up for everyone else. Shiro tried to reason with him, telling him only one pot of soup was probably enough for Lance, but no one wanted to step into Hunk’s kitchen and defy him. In the end, they were incredibly grateful Hunk made so much.

“Did you put cocaine in this?” Pidge asked between her second and third bowl, “I feel like I’ll go into withdrawal without it.”

Hunk seemed to actually consider it, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t, but all the ingredients are written in Altean.”

“You realize we can never go back to food goo again?” Keith had given up on using the spoon and settled for drinking it straight out of the bowl.

With all the compliments, Lance was disappointed that he couldn’t taste it. He could detect a hint of something, but couldn’t identify it from either his cloudy head or the fact that it was a completely foreign ingredient. Still, there was something about the way it soothed his throat and warmed his stomach that felt delicious.

Lance managed to eat an entire bowl without speaking or even looking up. He only paused to make sure he didn’t spit soup everywhere when he sneezed. When he finally did look up, he met Hunk’s eagerly awaiting eyes and grinned.

“This is the best soup I’ve ever had...”

Oh god. 

He sounded fine until that exact moment. Now his words were absolutely riddled with congestion as if he plugged his nose to speak. He couldn’t even take a full breath through his nose. Keith and Pidge’s giggles echoed in the distance as he tried to stifle a sneeze into his elbow.

“Ugh...I think it’s finally catching up to me...”

“It caught you two days ago when you started sneezing all the time!” Keith protested, still trying to hide his laughter.

“But now I actually feel sick...fuck....”

“The soup’s really good, Hunk. Your mother knew what she was doing,” Shiro smiled, “But it seems like Lance is really congested. Soup isn't very effective for a stuffed-up nose. I have an idea about something else.”

“...are you sure this works, Shiro?” Lance was staring down a bowl of almost boiling water, a large towel draped around his neck. Within the time it took for Shiro to heat the water and get a towel, Lance had completely ruined the sleeve of his jacket from wiping his nose. Pidge had absolutely none of it. She confiscated the jacket and replaced it with a large box of tissues, claiming they’d have to burn the jacket to get rid of all the germs. Lance may or may not have actually screeched at the idea.

The Black Paladin nodded to Lance’s skepticism about the steam bowl.

“It used to clear up my sinuses all the time in the Garrison. It's just like one of those sauna rooms, except just for your face. It can't hurt to try.”

A sauna sounded wonderful. Lance put that high on his mental list of what to do when they got home, next to showing Coran and Allura a museum. He sniffed and draped the town over his head, trapping the steam in a small bubble of warmth and humidity.

“So we're going to suffocate Lance instead?” Keith said. To Lance, his voice was muffled by the now-damp towel. Shiro was right - it felt like a hot sauna. If nothing else, this would at least open his pores up and help his skin.

“We're not suffocating him. The steam should open everything up in his nose and throat,” Shiro responded, “Doing alright under there?”

Lance gave a weak thumbs up.

“So we're going to make him produce more mucus? Which will make him sneeze more?” Hunk said through spoonfuls of soup.

“It doesn’t produce more, it just moves things around, I guess? It worked for me, I never questioned why.”

“I don’t think it’s working,” Lance muttered from under the towel, nose still completely clogged, “But it feels really good...”

“Uh-uh,” Keith pulled the towel off Lance’s head and took him by the arm, “If we’re going to solve this, we’re going to solve it with something I know will work.”

“You've got to be kidding me.”

“Do you want to stop sneezing or not?”

Lance eyed the contraption suspiciously.  He'd heard of this kind of treatment before but never saw himself doing it, much less Keith. He also never would’ve guessed Keith constructed a makeshift Neti Pot on the castleship.

When Keith explained how it worked, Hunk and Pidge decided that they didn’t need to see it in action. Shiro didn’t particularly want to see it either, but he figured he should stay to stop the two from strangling each other.

“Doesn't it...hurt? Like jumping into water the wrong way and it gets up your nose?” Lance asked. It was intimidating, to say the least. No one liked that feeling.

“No, the saline balances the pH in your sinuses. It just feels weird. Like water up your nose without the burning sensation.”

Lance looked at the Red Paladin with skepticism.

“What? It was really dusty out in the desert, this helped. I hate feeling like I can’t breathe.”

“This thing has your desert boogers on it?”

“You think I wouldn’t wash it?!” Keith took a breath, and tried not to facepalm, “It’ll work. Just keep your head down and don’t breathe in.”

It wasn’t exactly a traumatic experience, but it did leave Lance worse off than before. The warm solution did exactly what it was supposed to do, and cleared out most of Lance’s sinuses. Neither he nor Keith knew exactly what went wrong, but Lance was coughing and sputtering over the sink with fear in his eyes.

“You do this to yourself?!”

“No, I do it the right way! I told you not to breathe in!”

“I didn’t breathe in!”

Shiro stood from his seat and put a hand on Lance’s back, “Alright, that’s enough! Are you alright, Lance?”

“My nose was violated by the ocean! H’iKTsh!’tsh! H-’khSHt’NGsT! There’s water still up my fucking nose! N’gsCH!” 

Keith blinked slowly, sighed, and left the room. The thought that his fool-proof method made Lance worse had driven him to the brink. Lance didn’t see him until his cold had almost completely calmed down.

Shiro offered Lance a towel, “Try to blow it out of your nose. Does it hurt?”

Lance pressed the towel against his face and blew as hard as he could. It didn’t make a difference.

“It doesn’t hurt, but it feels really weird!” He even tried jumping up and down and shaking his head, as if to get water out of his ears. The Black Paladin sighed. At least Lance still had his energy.

“Okay. Whenever you feel...composed enough, we should see Pidge. She probably has something that’ll help you.”

“The others had good ideas for temporary relief of the symptoms. But they won't actually help get rid of the virus,” Pidge said, “Really, the best things that are gonna help are vitamins and sleep.”

Lance nodded. It was the most logical thing he had heard all day. The three were in Pidge’s workshop, watching her fiddle with codes on the computer and hand-translate Altean on a pad of paper at the same time. But she paused to pull out a bottle of pills and pour Lance a glass of water.

The sick paladin reached out for the glass but paused when he felt the familiar tickle in the back of his nose again.

“Ah'shkCH!“

Pidge responded without thinking about it, “Bless you,” and handed him the glass. She dropped the pills in his other hand and sat back at her desk.

“How did you get vitamins?” Shiro asked, “I was in charge of the second space mall trip, there weren’t any pills we bought.”

“Lance taught me a... creative way to get some money. I bought them myself. I figured they’d be good to have on hand.”

Lance smiled fondly at their fountain-diving adventures. He downed each pill with ease and chased them with water. Shiro ignored the comment about creative ways of obtaining money. They weren’t being hunted down, that was the only thing that mattered.

“I'm still wondering where this came from,” Pidge thought out loud, “It really is just the common cold. I'm pretty sure no one brought it on the Blue Lion when we first blasted off, but if someone did, no wonder you were the one to get it first.”

Lance put the glass back down on Pidge’s desk, “At this point, I don't care where the quiznak it came from. I want it gone.”

Shiro patted his back and stood up, “Well, you heard her. Go get some rest. I’ll wake you up before dinner.”

In the end, Lance wasn’t quite sure what cured him. All of his friends’ methods helped in their own way (excepting Coran). Or perhaps the cold just cleared up on its own. Regardless, Lance was happy he could breathe through his nose and not sneeze or cough up a lung every other sentence.

The other paladins were incredibly grateful too. It was a relief to hear Lance speak normally again and not have a wet sneeze in their intercom.

Until they tried to run the training again.

“hh’txCHH’uh!”

Lance immediately put his hands up in surrender, even though no one else could see him. “It wasn’t me! I’m sterile, I’m cured!”

For a few moments, there was silence in space again. Until a purple waveform popped up on everyone’s interface.

“Hunk...” Shiro sniffed, “You should probably make more soup...”

[newyorktheater]

Broadway is busy with the Tony Awards on June 9th, but June is bustin’ out all over with new shows on other New York stages. A good number of the openings mark the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots and the birth of the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement.

Fairview, at Theatre for a New Audience

Smiley at Repertorio Espanol

“Life Sucks”

Aenid Moloney in “Yes! Reflections of Molly Bloom”

Dragon Spring Phoenix Rise

Several acclaimed plays are getting encore productions in other theaters, including  the Pulitzer-winning “Fairview.” Two different one-woman shows adapting the character Molly Bloom from James Joyce’s Ulysses for the stage. The Shed is offering a new Kung Fu musical, and the Atlantic a musical adapted from The Secret Life of Bees.

Below is a list of openings in June, 2019, organized chronologically by opening date, with each title linked to a relevant website. Color key of theaters: Broadway: Red. Off Broadway: Black, Blue, or Purple. Off Off Broadway: Green. Theater festival: Orange.  Immersive: Magenta. Shows marking Stonewall and those on gay themes will include the Stonewall 50 logo:

Many of the gay plays take place in non-traditional venues, and are of limited runs, often just a single performance. They and the theater festival offerings often don’t have official opening nights, so I list them by first public performance.

June 1

Underground Railroad Game (Ars Nova at Greenwich House)

An encore presentation of the award-winning play inspired by an actual game that co-creator Scott Sheppard was forced to play in fifth grade, when his school re-enacted a bizarre version of the Civil War.

My review

Zen A.M. (Theatre for the New City)

After years of struggling, Bruno finally books a once in a lifetime project, only to develop major misgivings about participating and completing his painting

  June 2

 Pridetable (Storycourse)

Five courses.  Five personal stories from a diverse and intergenerational team of LGBTQ+ chefs.  A month long pop-up theatrical dining experience

  June 3

Dying City (Second Stage)

Revival of Christopher Shinn’s 2007 play, set in a spare Manhattan apartment, where a young widow receives an unexpected visit from the twin brother of her deceased husband. The play explores the human fallout of global events

Nomad Motel (Atlantic)

A play by Carla Ching, directed by Ed Sylvanus Iskandar, about kids raising themselves and making something out of nothing in the land of plenty.

Everything that happened and would happen (Park Ave Armory)

Artist and composer Heiner Goebbels reenacts 100 years of history to show a world in strife through performance, sound, movement, and moving image

Ant Fest (Ars Nova)

The 12th annual month-long festival begins with A People’s History of Silicon Valley, described as “a synth-pop send-up of techno-utopianism and startup bros.”

June 4

Long Lost (MTC at City Center)

A play by Donald Margulies (Dinner with Friends) directed by Daniel Sullivan. “When troubled Billy appears out-of-the-blue in his estranged brother David’s Wall Street office, he soon tries to re-insert himself into the comfortable life David has built with his philanthropist wife and college-age son. What does Billy really want?”

  Little Women (Primary at Cherry Lane)

Kate Hamill’s take on Louise May Alcott’s novel

June 5

“The Bear.Mozart, Salieri and The Bear (West End Theater)

A double bill of short Russian plays: Pushkin’s little tragedy “Mozart and Salieri” challenges the question of who murdered Mozart.  It is partnered with Chekhov’s vaudeville,ieri-the-bear”>

  June 6

Global Gay (La Mama)

Dramatizes the plight of queer people around the world

Part of LaMama’s Stonewall 50 celebration

You Never Touched The Dirt (Clubbed Thumb @ Wild Project)

A play about economic transformation, the dreams it enables, and those it crushes. “The Lis, the Zhaos, the ghosts and the animals engage in a land feud.”

Public Servant (TBTB at Theatre Row)

Theater Breaking Through Barriers kicks off its 40th Anniversary season with this world premiere drama by Bekah Brunstetter (“This Is Us”) about a county commissioner and a woman who needs his help.

June 11

Much Ado About Nothing (Shakespeare in the Park)

Kenny Leon directs an all-black staging of Shakespeare’s comedy of romantic retribution and miscommunication

June 12

Handbagged (59E59)

The Iron Lady. The Queen. Born six months apart, each woman had a destiny that would change the world. But when the stiff upper lip softened and the gloves came off, which one had the upper hand?

June 13

The Secret Life of Bees (Atlantic)

A musical adaptation of Sue Monk Kidd’s beloved novel, with music by Duncan Sheik and book by Lynn Nottage, about two runaways in 1960s South Carolina, taken in by beekeeping sisters.

  Yes! Reflections of Molly Bloom (Irish Rep)

Aedín Moloney performs as Molly Bloom in a stage adaptation of the Penelope chapter of Ulysses written by James Joyce

Molly Bloom (Fusion at Theater 244)

Irish actress Eilin O’Dea performs her one woman show as Molly Bloom from the Penelope chapter of James Joyce’s “Ulysses”

Convention (Irondale) 

Using an ensemble of 40 actors, the play tells the true story of the 1944 Democratic National Convention; when the people’s favorite, progressive incumbent Vice President Henry Wallace, was denied nomination as FDR’s running mate in favor of the moderate Senator Harry Truman.

13 Fruitcakes (La MaMa)

13 staged musical vignettes about 13 significant LGBTQ figures (e.g. Leonardo daVinci) along with a song cycle based on poems by queer poets such as Wilde, Whitman and Lorca

Part of Stonewall 50 at La MaMa

June 14

Smiley (Repertorio Espanol)

Alex and Bruno’s differences seem insurmountable but they fall in love

  June 15

Veil Widow Conspiracy (Next door at NYTW)

This play by Gordon Dahlquist offers nested versions of a story that begins as a political murder mystery in 1922 China; then 2010 Hollywood; winding up in dystopian Brooklyn of the future.

June 16

Fairview (Theatre for a New Audience)

An encore presentation of Jackie Sibblies Drury’s Pulitzer prize-winning play about race and identity

Life Sucks (Wheelhouse at Theatre Row)

Aaron Posner’s acclaimed reimagining of Chekhov’s “Uncle Vanya” is re-opening Off-Broadway

June 17

A Strange Loop (Playwrights Horizons) Michael R. Jackson’s musical about a black, gay writer, working a day job he hates while writing his original musical: a piece about a black, gay writer, working a day job he hates while writing his original musical

Ode to Juneteenth (National Black Theatre)

Emancipation Jones tells us the true story of “Juneteenth”, the day two an a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation when Union Soldiers finally rode into Texas to announce the end of slavery.

Mel Brooks (Lunt Fontanne)

The first of two performances as part of the so-called In Residence on Broadway series.

June 18

Dropping Gumballs on Luke Wilson (A.R.T. NY)

A play written by Rob Ackerman and directed by Theresa Rebeck based on a true story about the making of a TV commercial in which a film director puts a movie star’s life in the hands of a very jittery props guy.

Leap and the Net Will Appear (New Georges at Flea)

What happens when Margie (raised to be a good girl; wants to be a lion) leaves home: twenty years whiz by like a moving train

June 19

Imminently Yours (Negro Ensemble Company at Theatre 80)

Descendants of American slaves resist expropriation of their inherited properties.

Out of Line: No Agenda Genda (High Line) Antonio Ramos presents a sci-fi piece of interactive dance theater dedicated to the legacy and memory of queer icons and movement-maker

  SheNYC (Connelly)

The festival begins with The Shoebox, in which four high school best friends write letters to their future selves — and then open them ten years later.

June 20

Toni Stone (Roundabout’s Laura Pels)

A play by Lydia Diamond directed by Pam McKinnon, based on a true story about the first woman to go pro in the Negro Leagues,

Pride Plays (Rattlestick)

More than a dozen play readings from celebrated LBTQIA voices, including Paula Vogel, Terrence McNally and the Five Lesbian Brothers, will be presented from June 20th through 24th

Contradict This! (LaMama)

The Bearded Ladies Cabaret presents a spectacle that is part trial, part birthday, part funeral, featuring original music performed by a host of misfits, drag artists, queers, and a local choir. Part of Stonewall 50 at La MaMa

June 21

Stonewall (NYC Opera)

A new American opera by Iain Bell and Mark Campbell “that captures the rage, grit, humor and, finally, hope of the LGBTQ community’s uprising in a Greenwich Village dance club on one hot night in June 1969. The work is divided into three parts and follows a diverse group of characters whose lives collide at that pivotal moment in history when the police push them too far and they find the courage to fight back.”

June 22

King Phillip’s Head is Still on That Pike Just Down the Road (Clubbed Thumb @ The Wild Project) The councilmen of Plymouth Colony determine how to be Good in the New World.

The Stonewall 50 Plays (Queens Museum)

The One-Minute Play Festival has organized 50 new Queer One-Minute Plays, which will be presented from 2 p.m. to 3:45 p.m.

    June 23

Quilt  (Judson Memorial Church)

A musical celebration of those who died of AIDS and those who survived.

  June 26

Dragon Spring Phoenix Rise (The Shed)

The story of a secret sect in Flushing, Queens, that possesses the magical power to extend human life, and the twin brother and sister caught in the struggle to control it. Directed by Chen Shi-Zheng and written by the creators of the Kung Fu Panda movies, Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger.

Working (Encores Off Center)

This concert version of Nina Faso and Stephen Schwartz’s 1978 musical based on Stud Terkels est-selling book feaures a cast that includes, Helen Hunt, Christopher Jackson, Javier Muñoz and Andréa Burns

Outside of Eden (New Ohio)

The Ice Factory Festival begins with this mix of opera and theater about the Byzantine Empresses.

  June 27

In The Green (Lincoln Center’s LCT3)

Grace McLean’s new musical tells the origin story of one of Medieval history’s most powerful and creative women: Hildegard von Bingen. Before she became a healer, a composer, an exorcist, and finally a saint, she was a little girl locked in a cell with her mentor, Jutta.

June 2019 New York Theater Openings: Stonewall 50 On Stage! Fairview Returns! Broadway is busy with the Tony Awards on June 9th, but June is bustin' out all over with new shows on other New York stages.

[get-a-new-lease-on-life]

A New Lease on Life - 6: Cohabitation Chaos

-------------------------------

6: Cohabitation Chaos

-------------------------------

Hey, Folks! So far this story has been primarily doom and gloom - and the doom and gloom is far from over - so I figured it was time for some fluff - a little breather from the drama, if you will. After all, when people move in together madness ensues and Amber hasn't been living with the guys very long at all. Hope this light-hearted chapter doesn't disappoint! Dedicated to all us short chicks livin' in a tall man's world.

Trigger warnings: The usual plus a very mild lime—nothing too descriptive, it's very brief and practically pointless to skip.

Suggested Listening: Simon and Garfunkel, "Bridge Over Troubled Water"

February 10th

Not one step out the bathroom door, Amber's ears picked up the sound of scrambling and frantic words in the kitchen. "Not even five minutes, an' there's already more work to be done," she sighed tiredly. "I'm gettin' too old for this."

In the kitchen doorway, she was greeted by the sight of Mikey scrubbing frantically at a grimy blackened pile of something on the countertop—the countertop Amber scrubbed clean after lunch. "What happened?" she deadpanned. Mikey whipped about with a girly shriek and the grubby sponge went flying across the room to land in the corner with a splat.

"I didn't do it!" he exclaimed, waving his hands defensively. "It's not my fault!"

"Yeah, you did, and it is," Leo contradicted sternly, leaning back against the opposite wall. "You took the crumb tray off the toaster so the leftover pizza would fit. Everything melted off the pizza and burned onto the countertop...and you probably murdered the toaster." Mikey grinned sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

"Heheh," he laughed nervously. "Well, at least you didn't break it, this time, right Bruh?" Leo stared back without a word, clearly unimpressed; sure, the toaster hated him, but was that really his fault?

With a long-suffering sigh, Amber approached the scorched cheese, sauce, and toppings. "Lemme get this straight." She grabbed the dripping sponge from the floor and wrung it out over the sink. "You packed the toaster full of pizza, left the crumb tray pushed aside and nothing underneath, then tried scrubbing the mess off with cold water and a half-dead sponge."

"The water was warm," he protested weakly. "And—" She cut him off, flinging her arms wide.

"Water, Mikey, water!" Sometimes Mikey reminded her of a less socially awkward Aaron; she forced the thought away as she chucked the sponge in the sink and started digging through a low cabinet. "You tried cleanin' up a hot, greasy, burned-on mess with water! Water alone will never clean up grease, especially burned grease!"

Armed with a box of baking soda, a spray bottle of white vinegar, and a plastic chisel, she tackled the mess. Once she'd chipped and scraped off as much as she could, she piled baking soda on the remainder. "Towels, Mikey?" she asked, startling him into action. With a couple old towels laid around the mess as a barrier, she started spraying the baking soda with vinegar.

"Whoa!" Mikey uttered as the mixture foamed violently with every spray. "What happened?" Amber shrugged noncommittally.

"It's just a chemical reaction, Mike," she answered, never noticing Donatello slip into the kitchen for coffee. "Vinegar's an acid, an' bakin' soda's a base; when they're combined, vinegar steals a hydrogen atom from the soda. The reaction produces water an' carbon dioxide, hence the fo—" Mid-spray she turned to look at Mikey; he was staring at her, bewildered. "Bakin' soda an' vinegar make a foamy mess that's great for burnin' off stubborn grease," she simplified gruffly.

"Oh!" he exclaimed with a wide grin. "So, you got this?" A dirty look from both Donnie and Leo made him cringe. "Eh…I mean, ya need a hand?" With a humoring smile, she passed him the spray bottle.

"Keep sprayin' 'til it stops foamin', then scrub off the rest an' rinse it off. Call me if ya need help, 'kay?" He pouted, but nodded in agreement and took over spraying the still foaming mass. With a grin at Leo and Donnie, Amber returned to dusting the dojo.

"'Just a chemical reaction,' huh?" Donatello smirked at her from the doorway. "You realize he probably has no idea what a 'base' is, right?"

"Meh," she shrugged, hopping up on her toes to reach part of the weapons rack. "Not my fault—I ain't his Mama. Joke's on him, anyway - he kin spray it 'til the pigs come home,- it's gonna keep foamin' up."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" The unexpected comment caught her off guard, and though she knew he meant no harm, it rubbed her wrong. "I'd never have expected—"

"What?" she retorted sharply, stretching as high as possible. "My native language is Hick, so I must be a moron?"

"No!" he protested loudly. Her tenuous balance failed and she fell into his outstretched arms. "I just didn't—I mean—Ah, shell, I messed up again." Right above hers, shielded hazel eyes winced. "Do-over?" he proposed as he helped her back to her feet. Amber sighed in frustration, but plopped down on the dojo floor cross-legged; he followed suit, stretching out beside her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, avoiding his eyes. "I dunno why I've been so—so cranky lately…I'm usually not the sort to get mad without damn good reason, but here I've been blowing up all over everyone for no reason. I dunno what's wrong with me…My Mama whupped my hide- fer far less'n- this."

"You've been through a lot, Amber," Donatello argued. "Your life is—"

"Yeah, yeah, I died an' all that," she interrupted. "None'a that's any excuse for bein' a total bitch to y'all over nothin'. I just wish I knew what was wrong with me."

Decade old rosebushes buried under a ton of shingles. Trees shaved bare of bark and twigs.

He watched her silently a moment; her head was bowed and her trembling shoulders drawn tight, a sure sign that she was again fighting memories she couldn't shut off. If only he could help...He knew it wasn't much, but he gripped her shoulder supportively. Not surprisingly, she leaned into his side, shivering.

"I jus' wish I could shut off these thoughts—these memories—" She shook her head viciously, haunted eyes staring through the gleaming floorboards.

Fiberglass tumbleweeds drift across a vacant parking lot.

"It's crazy, but it's almost like someone else is in control of my thoughts, my memories, an' they're trying to break me with them! I just…" she trailed off, turning to timidly meet his eyes. "Donnie…what if April's right? What if I am…broken?"

"No one said anything about being broken," he answered sternly, hoping she hadn't heard April suggest just such a thing. "I was hoping you hadn't heard that conversation." She slumped further.

"I came to apologize. It's not your fault I feel too sick to eat, yer just tryin' to help me."

Outstretched hands holding a mug of cloudy soup. A familiar voice begging her to eat.

"I…" Her voice cracked. "I shouldn't be here…I shouldn't e'en be alive. If I stayed dead, this wouldn't be happening!"

The bottom fell out of Donatello's stomach. "You don't…you're not wishing you were dead, are you?" he asked softly. "Amber, you got a second chance…if you hadn't, if you'd stayed dead," He swallowed noisily, avoiding her eyes. "W-We'd never have met…and without the repeated alarms, we'd never have found Kimber's body…she'd have been unable to rest, forgotten in the underground."

She blushed, distractedly hitching her tee shirt up higher. The neckline didn't bare the hated tattoo she now bore, but it still made her uncomfortable knowing it was there. She still felt sorry for the death of the body's previous occupant, but she had yet to feel anything but annoyance for the woman herself. Damned Purple Dragon punks, she thought darkly.

"Do you regret it?" Donnie asked hesitantly. "—regret meeting us?"

"Of course not," she answered with a tired smile. "How could I regret meeting you—all of you?" she added hastily. She didn't want to come across as creepy, after all. She didn't notice the mild disappointment in her companion's eyes. "I guess…I guess I just don't know what to feel, really. Of all the people who didn't make it out of that storm, why'd I get a second chance? I never use this word out of principle," she almost spat, her tone harsh. "But it just doesn't seem fair that I lived and they didn't! Whole families died—mothers, fathers, children, elderly, no one was excluded! Half my town's first-responders were killed or injured! Why'd I get a second chance when so many who're more worthy weren't spared?!"

Donatello wasn't at all surprised when she practically fell into his open arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He was a little disappointed, though. It had been thirteen days since Amber first dove into his arms in the throes of a panic attack and twelve since he admitted to her that he didn't mind it. He was her bridge over troubled water, her port in the storm, and he would never turn away someone who really needed him.

Ever since getting the okay, she sought comfort in his arms when she felt her world crashing down. When she found herself unable to fight off the demons on her own, she invaded his personal space until she could breathe again.

Not that he minded, he reminded himself silently, awkwardly petting her hair. He was only too glad to help whenever he could…and if he was honest with himself, he enjoyed the contact. Therein lay the rub…she only sought his arms when she needed comfort. She needed comfort, consolation, not affection and the like. For all he knew, she left a lover behind in her old life. The very idea stung; twice now, a woman had been practically dropped into his family's laps, and both times, that woman hadn't considered them human enough for a relationship. Though he'd never agree with any of Raphael's outbursts aloud, it was apparent to him as well…Love wasn't in their cards.

"PSST!" A sudden hiss from the open doorway drew his attention away from the crying redhead. Mikey stood just outside pantomiming an embrace and 'talking' with his hands.

"SHOO," Donatello mouthed back at him. The other threw his hands up in disbelief and stalked away only to return with a whiteboard from the lab. After a moment of scribbling, the board was raised and the words became clear. Quit huggin her & talk—she needs a distraction! The moment Mikey's point became clear, Donnie met his eyes with a wide-eyed halfway panicked stare, shaking his head frantically. Mikey scrubbed the board clean with the sleeve of the hoodie tied around his waist, scrawled another message, then shoved it at Donnie with a pout. Don't make me 'axidently'- break something. TALK or Mr. Coffee gets it!

'You drive a hard bargain, Mikey,' Donatello thought at his younger brother with a scowl. 'And your spelling is terrible.' Somehow he managed to throw an 'I'm watching you' gesture at his younger brother without disturbing the still sniffling woman buried face-first in his other side. Clearly content that his advice was taken, Mikey swaggered off with a smug grin.

As his footsteps faded, Donatello rubbed Amber's back. "Come on," he murmured teasingly. "I know life's a pain right now, but you don't have to suffocate yourself in my armpit." She responded with a snort, burrowing even deeper into his side. "Or not. Your choice, really."

"You don't stink," she grumbled into his plastron. "Turkeys stink—Compared to those, you're a bed'a roses, even after training." Sure she was through crying, she slumped at his side, leaning back against his shoulder. "Thanks…an' sorry for cryin' on ya…again."

"Don't worry about it, Braids," he grinned, chucking her chin. "I'm happy to oblige." They sat in silence a moment, one fighting to contain an excited girly squeal at the nickname and the other searching for ways to distract her.

"I' gotta keep busy, Dunnie," she admitted softly, staring through the weapons rack. She loved his new nickname for her - loved that he cared for her enough to give her a nickname - but it didn't change the facts. She was a mess...a mess he shouldn't have to deal with. "The moment I stop workin' is the moment I start thinkin'…and whenever I think, I remember." She swiped at her cheek to dash away the last of her tears, feeling angry and weak. "What if April's right? What if I do have PTSD?" He stood and brushed his trousers off, then held out his hand to her.

"We'll cross that bridge if and when we get there," he answered confidently. "Until then, there's no use in worrying about it, right?" She accepted the hand up with a bright blush but smiled regardless. Without hesitation, she threw herself back into her dusting.

"Sorry I took your head off…again. It's not your fault you didn't know about that button."

"Button?" he echoed back, watching her closely. She was, after all, pretty clumsy...too clumsy to be left alone with the weapons, even if he actually wanted to leave her alone.

She shrugged. "Yeah, everyone's got buttons, you know," she reminded as though he understood completely. "Big red mental buttons that should never be pushed an' usually result in nuclear fallout when they are. Some people can't handle being called a certain name, some can't handle being reminded'a certain things..." She snorted, grinning at a fond memory. "Heck, my best friend, Mercy - one of her worst buttons was hearing people using words like bipolar, gay, and the like as insults. She wasn't really violence prone, but the one time Aaron called her a 'bipolar bitch,' she 'bout knocked one'a his teeth out." Her face fell the moment she realized it - she wasn't going to see Mercy or Aaron again and the knowledge, though logical, hurt. "I don't really get too bent out'a shape over being called names or reminded of things," she finished instead of admitting her upset. "but whenever someone implies that I'm stupid, they're cruisin' fer a bruisin'."

"You thought I was calling you stupid?" Donnie shook his head. "I simply meant that you've shown little interest in anything but cleaning and cooking in all this time—I know practically nothing about you, but it's blatantly obvious that despite your rough speech, you're not an idiot."

Amber winced avoiding his eyes. "Sammy remembered a lesson the shepherd had given her," she recited softly without much of her usual twang; the author, after all, didn't write with that twang. "…gentle spirit may express itself in the rude words of illiteracy; it is not therefore rude. Ruffianism may speak the language of learning or religion; it is ruffianism still. Strength may wear the garb of weakness, an' still be strong; an' a weakling may carry the weapons of strength but fight with a weak heart." She finally met his eyes. "Harold Bell Wright wrote that in his book Shepherd of the Hills, an' it's entirely true. I walk like a hick, talk like a hick, an' live like a hick, but I'm not an IGNORANT hick." She was more than a hick, she reminded herself tackling the rack of staves, but the hick was what people saw most - it was more acceptable than the side of her she'd suppressed, after all, especially where she came from.

"I couldn't keep my grades up during school," she admitted instead of admitting the thoughts on her mind. "My classmates were absolute terrors, an' livin' in fear of getting the shit kicked out'a ya tends to make schoolin' less of a priority. Soon as I got out'a high school an' into college, though," she grinned almost smugly, "I blew their arses out'a the water—set the curves, aced everything but mathematics an' government, wound up on the Dean's list—well, you get the point."

"Why am I not surprised?" he asked with a low laugh. "You always struck me as too smart for your own good. So you graduated, then?" Her smile cracked; it was a sore subject, but he couldn't know that.

"I was only a few credits away from graduatin' with honors when some moron decided to park a van on my ass mid-crosswalk," she admitted. "It's a miracle I wasn't paralyzed from the waist down. Between physical therapy, corrective surgeries, re-learnin how to walk, an' mountains of legal bullshite, I dropped out; by the time I could walk without a cane, my credits weren't valid anymore an' I was too tired to start over…" ...and too apathetic, she added silently, but he didn't need to know that. She stretched up to reach the top rack again, avoiding his eyes. "I've been very blessed, though - I survived, I met some wonderful people, an' despite my occasional whining, I was happy. I spent the rest of my life workin' as a janitor, but by God, I proved without a shadow of a doubt that I'm not an idiot…and last I knew, my university still hadn't seen anyone beat my cumulative GPA."

"It must have been amazing," Donatello said quietly, his thoughts far from the dojo. "What I'd give for a chance to get a proper education…"

'Dammit, O'Brien,' she thought angrily. 'Ya just had to rub it in his face—quit bein' such a smug braggart!' "For what it's worth," she said brightly. "People go to school to learn; y'already know most of what the curriculum requires. Plus, what with all the other smarts you have piled up in yer brain, if ya crammed a whole major's worth more in there, it'd probably crash from overload—major 'blue screen'a death' stuff, really." He retorted with a sly grin.

"You're just scared I'll beat your records," he teased. "Couldn't handle havin' a turtle beat you at, say, algebra."

"No contest there," she grinned in response, surveying the impressive cobwebs in the rafters of the room; she could never reach them, and it was driving her bonkers. "A rock could beat me at algebra." Without warning, he swept her off her feet and onto his shoulders; between shrieks and threats, he chuckled,

"Get those cobwebs—they said 'yer mama wears army boots.'"

"Yeah?" she squawked, smacking him with the dust-rag. "Well, yer mama couldn't outrun a snail!" As the two traded quips and tackled the dusty rafters, Mikey darted back to the TV, satisfied in a hard day's meddling.

"Amber?" She bolted upright in bed, scanning the dark bedroom. "Amber, are you up?"

"Yeah," she answered softly as her eyes registered Donatello seated on the edge of her lumpy bed, unmasked and wearing only his trousers. He made the dark, cluttered room seem small - granted, her little 'shotgun shack' wasn't that big to begin with, but the presence of the tall, gangly mutant seemed to make it seem much smaller. "I am now. What's going on?" He shrugged, his lips tilted in an easy smile.

"I just couldn't stop thinking about you, really." He brushed a lock of dark brown hair from her cheek behind her ear, triggering a deep blush. "You wouldn't stay out of my dreams…so I came to invade yours. You don't mind, do you?" Warmth bloomed in her core at his confident, playful smile.

"Uh…" she stammered as his knuckles traced her cheekbone and jaw. Even without her glasses, she could plainly see the heat in his eyes - AND where this was going. "O-Of course not—you're always welcome here." Her pulse raced as his fingertips trailed over to her pulse point, hovering there long enough to sense the rapid beat.

"There's no need to be afraid, Braids," he murmured leaning in to bury his snout in her loose hair. "I'm here…I'll protect you." The words were stolen right from her lungs by a slow, sensual brush of lips on hers; as though gaining confidence from her suddenly gelatinous bones, he repeated the gesture several times more, then rubbed his snout against her nose. She whimpered and clung to him as he drew away the blanket and blazed a burning trail down her body. "Let me take care of you?" Before she could argue, her clothing was gone and his head was buried between her quaking thighs.

"DONNIE" she cried aloud as he sucked and lapped at her hot, naked flesh. "Oh Lawd —Oh God, DONNIE!"

"That's it, Amber," he murmured, his voice husky from heat and want. "Don't hold back—let go, I'm here." His words sent twinges down her spine—twinges that distracted her from how unexpected they were. "Amber…Brilliant, beautiful, precious Amber…" Only a little more—just a little longer, and she'd—

"Mikey!" A deafening roar startled Amber from her sleep and onto the floor in a sweaty pile. "I said LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" As Raph and Mike tussled in the living room, Amber realized what had occurred.

"Goddammit!" she snarled as she hoisted herself up onto the cot again, swatting her punch red hair back over her shoulders. 'If it ain't fuckin' nightmares, it's wet dreams,' she thought darkly, beating the lumpy pillow into submission. Finally, she had a good dream...and Raph murdered it! 'April's draggin' me out tomorrow—I gotta get some sleep.'

Unseen by the irate female, Donatello rolled his eyes and returned to fixing the toaster. The lab had been stifling with her pheromones, but the air was finally clearing.

Hours later as the sun rose over Manhattan, a badly off-key voice belted out "Poison Ivy" in the lair's bathroom. One half-asleep ninja staggered to the kitchen for coffee while two more slept soundly. Two rooms away, the remaining two snored to beat the band, both tied to their beds spread-eagled and one gagged with a dirty sock.

Revenge, Amber thought later as she texted pictures to April's phone, is sweet.

WORDS (Midwestern twang unless otherwise noted)

-Axidently - Mikey's spelling is atrocious. "Accidentally." - Lawd - Lord. This is actually a more Southern pronunciation than Midwestern, but it sometimes makes its way over the Arkansas-Missouri state line to southern Missouri, where Amber is from. - Less'n - This one has two possible meanings depending on its use. First meaning is simply less than. Second meaning, also sometimes written out as Unless'n or 'n'less'n is just an elaborated version of unless. The first meaning is much more commonly used unless the speaker is being a smartass. - None'a - None of - Schoolin' - This isn't typical Midwestern Twang, but rather an odd term Amber picked up from her Gran'Da. Simply means "Schooling," or rather, 'going to school and taking classes.' - Y'already - You already - "Whupped my hide" / A whuppin' - Whuppin' refers to punishment of a child by way of spanking or noisy blows to the rear, usually with a yard stick, paddle, or belt, or in more extreme cases, 'a whuppin' stick' or switch. It's not really considered abuse except among folks who consider spanking abuse, and a child is more likely to become a heathen from never having it than from having it. As recently as Cold's childhood, it was still considered acceptable to send your kid out back, make them 'pick a switch,' then use it to smack their asses instead of spanking them. The whole point behind whuppin' a kid is not to cause injury, but to punish them by way of emotional distress over the noise. Conversely, when someone tells an adult "I'll whup yer ass," "I'll give you a whuppin'," or something similar, they're referring to laying a beat-down on them by way of fisticuffs instead of spanking them. - "He kin spray it 'til the pigs come home" - 'He can spray it until the pigs come home.' NORMALLY people say 'til the COWS come home but my research into Scottish slang indicates that cow is regarded as a serious insult, one of the worst you can aim at a woman. Because of that, Amber replaces cows with pigs. Regarding Vinegar and Baking Soda: After the two have been mixed and the bubbling’s stopped, they don’t really do a damn thing. If you mix them on the surface you’re cleaning, some messes will loosen or ‘burn off’ from the bubbling. And yes, it WILL keep foaming up as long as you keep adding vinegar or baking soda, no matter how diluted it gets. Consider that Amber’s way of getting back at Mikey for neglecting common sense. - Adding 'a to the end of a word - This can have two different meanings, depending on how the rest of the sentence is put together. Sometimes it means 'to,' like tryin'a means 'trying to;' other times, it means 'of,' as in out'a which means 'out of.' Generally you can determine the meaning of the 'a by the preceding word - preceded by a verb usually means 'to' while 'of' can be preceded by a verb OR a non-verb, generally any word you're likely to use 'of' after.

One more note: "Poison Ivy" is a song originally recorded by The Coasters, and it's a real crackup! Seriously, the first time I heard it, after years of breaking out in hives just from walking past poison ivy, I laughed so hard I stopped breathing. Give it a listen sometime if you need a laugh.

Hope you enjoyed the fluffy reprieve, because it's time to torture Amber again.

Up Next: Best Laid Plans

Chapter List