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jackactuallywrites · 2 months ago

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All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving Part 21

Warnings: Smut

Summary: Being wine drunk makes you horny. Also you make Ghost watch twilight

Notes: Yes it took forever no there isn’t an excuse I’m just lazy xx

Word Count: 3,221

ao3 link

“You haven’t fucked yet?”

How you’d missed hosting girls' night. There was nothing like being interrogated and scrutinised by Kate.

You sighed, shifting on the sofa and swirling the wine around in your glass, trying to think of a good answer for her that wouldn’t make you seem like a pussy. “There’s just not been a good opportunity.”

“Pussy. Just take him into the bedroom next time he turns up and ride him until you forget your names. Easy.”

“I’m not sure that’s quite my style, Kate.”

“News to me.”

You shot her a look, and she gave you a shrug in response, unbothered by your glare. You were quite far from being a virgin, but damn. Helen returned from your kitchen carrying a plate filled with toast sticks, as well as a melted Camembert in the middle. God, you loved that woman. She set the plate down on the coffee table, and then took her place on the floor, grabbing her wine as she looked at you, “What we yapping about?”

Kate answered for you, “Simon.”

Helen hummed, “She still hasn’t fucked him yet?”

“Nope.”

“Can we please talk about something other than my love life?”

“Alright,” Helen said, “We going for Twilight or Bridget Jones?”

Both you and Kate answered at the same time. “Twilight.”

Your discourse around the film hasn’t changed since the very first time you’d watched it in the cinemas; you liked Edward, Kate believed that Bella should have a threeway with Edward and Jacob, and Helen couldn’t understand why Bella would go for either man when Alice was right there. The years that had passed since that first viewing had only made you all further entrenched in your positions, although you had always seen the reason in Helen’s argument. She was arguing just as passionately now as she did then, though she was wearing significantly less eyeliner this time, “And I mean, Edward is a full-on stalker! Like, he broke into Bella’s room multiple times. She should have staked him the first chance she got.”

You weren’t sure how much of a pedestal you had to stand on, considering the Ghost of it all. Thankfully, Kate was arguing for you, allowing you to be quiet.

“It’s hot in fiction, Helena. If we apply real-world logic to vampire fiction, then the whole thing falls apart.”

Helen didn’t have a good answer for that; her argument dismantled before you’d even started the film, wanting to get the debate out of the way first.

Before you’d even seen Edward murder a sweet little deer, there was a bang at the door, which reminded you that, given the right pacing and a different soundtrack, Twilight would make a great horror film. What was more horrifying though, was the fact that you were pretty sure you knew what that bang was. Your own stalker. For all you knew, he very well could be an ageless vampire; you didn’t really know much about his personal life, never mind his age. You should really find that out before shagging the man.

“You gonna answer the door?” Helen asked, an amused look in her eyes. She knew, and she communicated this knowledge to Kate with a single look. It wasn’t like you could ignore Ghost; if you did, he was likely to just break in.

Very reluctantly, you pushed yourself up from the sofa and walked over to the door. You weren’t quite over the last time you’d seen him; you’d kissed, and he’d been insufferably smug about it all night, to the point where you considered smothering him to death with a pillow. Ugh. This wasn’t how you’d wanted him to meet Kate, and sober Helen. You’d wanted to put that off for as long as possible, and continue existing in your little bubble.

“Baby, you gonna make me huff ‘n puff?” Ghost purred through the door, and you groaned, dragging your hand over your face. You had to steel yourself for this one.

Carefully, you opened the door, not wanting him to fall through the doorway again. He was in his usual civvies, dark blue jeans, and a black waterproof, the bruises on his face almost completely faded, though the scabs across his cheek hadn’t entirely healed just yet, and the new scar across his head was still visible in the shorter hair. Rather than flowers, this time he held a giant portion of chips in his hand, still tightly wrapped up in paper, still fresh. You knew this, because Ghost had immediately brought you in for a tight squeeze, and you could feel the warmth of the chips radiating through the fabric of your top, which just so happened to be the T-shirt he’d left behind.

You cleared your throat, gently trying to put some space between you, “Simon, you remember Helen? And I don’t think you’ve met Katie.”

Ghost’s eyes finally shifted away from you to the other two women in the room, his back straightening. He looked at them, then back to his chips. “Fuck. I don’t have enough for the four of us. Want us to go back out and get more?”

You could see the amused look in Kate’s eyes, and she smiled at him, “We’re all good on dinner, ta.”

Was that Ghost feeling awkward? There was a certain stiffness in his posture, a vague look of unease on his face. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen the man feel anything other than confident, whether it was in lust or anger. Either way, you couldn’t just leave him hanging.

“We’re watching Twilight. Wanna join?”

Ghost shifted on the spot, running his hand over his head, “Which one’s that?”

Helen answered for you, “Sparkly vampires.”

Katie chimed in, “We have wine!”

Ghost looked down at you, leaning on the doorframe, “If you’re sure I’m not interrupting.”

You glanced between Ghost and your girls, and Kate heard your silent question, patting the sofa next to her, “Come on, the more’s the merrier.”

You’d thought it had been about 30/70 if Ghost would join ladies night, but apparently his dedication went deep enough to spend his night watching a teenage romcom. He followed you into the living room, like an oversized guard dog at your heels, and you sunk into the middle seat of the sofa, letting him take the corner. Kate grabbed the remote, taking a glance at Ghost, “You really never seen Twilight? Was pretty big when it came out back in ‘08.”

He shrugged in response, “Was deployed overseas.”

She grinned, “So we’re taking your Twilight virginity? Special night for us. It’s so rare to find someone who’s not seen even bits of it.”

Oh, you loved Kate. You could already see the slight twitch of Ghost’s lips, and the way he settled back into the sofa, his arm sprawled out across the back behind you as his other hand undid his chips, “Bring on the vampires.”

Two hours and two bottles of wine later, Ghost was the centre of attention, being interrogated on his thoughts on the film. Of course, the most important question had come first, and he’d answered without much thought.

“Jacob. Bella’s a kid, and Edward’s a creep.”

Kate cackled, “Yes, Simon! She should have staked the cunt the second he confessed to stalking her.”

You leant away from Ghost to look at him curiously, “Really? You think Edward’s a creep?”

“He’s a hundred years old, she’s ten.”

Couldn’t argue with that. Well, you could, but you didn’t want to. Ghost didn’t seem keen to drop the subject just yet, “You tellin’ me you like the stalker?”

The bastard.

“It’s romantic. Bite me.”

Ghost grinned widely, and you knew exactly what he was smug about. Thankfully, Helen interrupted before his ego could consume you all, “Enough about the boys; how about the women?”

That, Ghost had to think about, and he stared up at the ceiling as he thought, his head hanging off the edge of the sofa, “What’s the mum’s name?”

Kate answered, “Esme?”

Ghost sat back up, “Only one remotely in my age range.”

You rolled your eyes, “They’re vampires, Simon.”

He shrugged, “They still look like kids.”

You scoffed at him, “Well yeah, if we’re being factual, we’d go for Charlie or Carlisle, but it’s if you were also a teen.”

Ghost thought quietly for a moment, “Teen Simon?” He seemed to be carefully considering the question, “Alice.”

Helen laughed, “Get in! Man of taste right there.”

He actually smiled at her. It wasn’t the same way he smiled at you, smug or slutty; he just looked happy.

Katie yawned suddenly, looking up from her phone, “Uber’s here.”

That was news to you.

“You ordered an Uber?”

She pushed herself up off the floor, “My sister gave me a curfew.”

It wouldn’t be entirely out of character for Jess to give her a curfew; the woman could have finally reached her breaking point with Kate constantly stumbling in drunk. But you didn’t believe her in the slightest. The plan had been for a girly sleepover, not for the girls to go home after one film. The sly bitch was probably plotting again. Oh, this had her stink all over it. She pulled Helen to her feet, “Come on, you’ll sleep at mine. As long as you don’t hit on my sister.”

Helen grinned at that, “No promises.”

There was no time for you to protest; they were out the door the second they’d given you a hug goodbye, leaving you alone with Ghost. Crafty bitches.

With your girls gone, that familiar aura began to creep in again, the unspoken desire, a quiet whisper of excitement and potential. Simon was in the kitchen, tidying up as per usual, leaving you to sprawl yourself out over the sofa as you waited for him to return. What was it about being wine-drunk that made you feel so slutty? Vodka made you stupid and playful, but wine made you want to take your knickers off and grind. It was as though your very skin was alight, desperate to be touched, craving intimacy. Kate knew this, and she’d deliberately made herself scarce, so it was only you and Ghost alone in the flat while you were off your tits on Merlot. How much of this had she planned? She had bought the drinks, after all. Oh, you were too tired to play detective. You needed all of your cognitive faculties to focus on not taking your top off. Already, your fingers had started to play with the hem. Get ahold of yourself!

Ghost came back into the room, sleeves rolled up, and you beckoned him over to you, rolled on your side with your back against the cushions, unable to keep yourself from resisting temptation. He seemed steadier on his feet, but there was a slight glaze to his eyes as he crawled onto the sofa beside you, a certain looseness to his smile as he stretched out opposite you. Already, your hands were reaching out to slide over his chest, desperate for the touch, enjoying the softness of his top, the warmth of his bare chest emanating through the fabric. Oh, you knew what you wanted. You tugged at it insistently, your lips moving of their own accord, “Take it off.”

Clearly, he didn’t need much encouragement. He wasn’t exactly graceful, struggling as he tugged it up over his head, but eventually it was tossed aside, revealing that beautiful body to you once again. Sober, you might have noticed the two large puncture marks, where he told you he’d been hung from, but you were more interested in the simple fact that his skin was bare, fingers already reaching out to touch him. He was beautifully warm, soft, and a little fuzzy, his chest lightly covered by soft blond hairs. As you trailed your hands over his skin, he watched you, one arm propping his head up on his elbow, the other lazily resting on your waist, having found its way under your top to lay against your bare skin. You let your hand shift to his shoulder, gently pulling him closer, and he didn’t resist, leaning in until his forehead was touching yours, his eyes flicking over your face. He was strangely quiet, not that you noticed, as though he was terrified to break the spell, afraid that if he spoke, he’d ruin the moment. His hand shifted from your waist, sliding up over your body until his fingers were cupping your cheek, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. Your hand was on the back of his neck, fingers brushing against the buzzed hair, and it took only the slightest pull for him to come crashing against you, his lips pressed against yours, body caging you in.

This time, he didn’t break away, instead pulling you closer to him, his arms reaching out to embrace you, one curling around your neck, the other around your waist again, his fingers digging into the back of your hipbone as he kissed you, pressing you into the cushions with the desperation of his kisses. You could feel butterflies dancing in your stomach as your arms snaked around his neck and the familiar tingles in your core as you felt Ghost grind against you, bulge straining at his jeans, the denim rough against your soft body. It was torturously pleasurable, and you couldn’t help but roll your hips back against him, earning a guttural growl from his throat and the slightest nip of his teeth on your bottom lip, a warning. His knee pushed in between your legs, his thigh pressed up against you, and you shifted a little so you could press your clit against him through two layers of fabric, angling yourself perfectly to get the maximum amount of pleasure. With the next kiss, he ground you against his thigh, and it was impossible to quiet the moan that left your lips, your fingers digging into the back of his neck.

It seemed as though Ghost hadn’t been entirely aware of what he had been doing to you up until you made that noise, breaking away from your kisses, his breath heavy as he looked at you, his eyes dark, pupils like two black holes. He only paused for a second, renewing his efforts in earnest, though now his lips were at your neck, kissing and sucking the skin, no doubt leaving little marks behind, not that you were in any position to protest, entirely focused on the way he was grinding his thigh up against you, beginning to coax forth your pleasure. It was becoming impossible to stifle your moans now, and the louder you became, the more insistent Ghost was, breaking away from your neck to kiss you properly, his tongue dancing with yours, and you could feel yourself beginning to peak, that familiar tightness building, and your fingers dug into the back of his head, breaking away again, “Simon, fuck, Simon, I-“

He actually looked a little surprised, his face curious, excited, eyes scanning over your face, flicking down to where you were pressed against him, then back up, “Are you gonna-?“

There wasn’t enough time for you to retort, everything released like a burst dam, nails digging into his skin as you finished, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He rushed in to kiss you again, holding his thigh firmly against you, as he whispered against your lips, “Fuck me, that’s my girl.”

You’d cum from dry humping. Jesus Christ. That was a throwback. Ghost looked utterly delighted with himself, but at least he had the decency not to tease you about it, even if his voice was insufferably smug as he murmured into your ear. “You do wonders for a man’s ego, love. Don’t think I’ll ever be forgetting this.”

Yeah, you couldn’t leave it at that. You moved your hand from his neck, shifting down over his chest and following the trail of hair down to his waistband, immediately fumbling with the button of his jeans. As soon as he clocked what you were doing, Ghost tensed as though he wanted to tell you to stop, to be the gentleman, even if every part of him screamed otherwise. The button came undone in your hands, and you looked up at him, eyes asking permission, “Only fair, isn’t it?”

He answered you with a kiss, his hips bucking up into your hand, and you took that as a yes. Your fingers brushed against him through his boxers; he was hard as a rock, the tip already dampening the cotton, clearly just as desperate for release as you had been. You slipped your hand into the hole in the front of his boxers, pushing aside the fabric so you could wrap your hand around his cock, feeling the girth of it in your fingers, the way it seemed to pulse the second you touched it. He thrust into your hand as you stroked him, breaking the kiss to bury his face in your neck, quiet as the grave but for his breathing, hot and heavy on your skin, and you could feel his fingers tighten on your body as you quickened your pace. Already, you could feel his body tensing, and his voice was a strained whisper in your ear,

“Jesus fuck, love, I can’t-“

The rest of his sentence was lost in a string of muffled curses, his face buried back in your neck as he finished in your hand, his arms tightening on you like a vice, crushing you in his grip.

For a moment, neither of you said a word, basking in each others pleasure.

Simon broke the silence first, letting out a dry chuckle, still tightly embracing you, “Not exactly what a lad wants to show his girl. One minute man.”

You grinned at that, carefully removing your hand from his boxers, having managed to get his come only on himself. He grimaced, pulling away from you, “Need to get cleaned up. Back in a ‘mo.”

You allowed him to extricate himself, stretching out on the sofa. Both of you had cum tonight, and you didn’t even fuck yet. God, if he could drive you crazy with just his thigh, what was the rest of his body capable of? You couldn’t wait to find out. While he cleaned himself up, you headed to bed, stripping down to just his tshirt, quickly replacing your damp knickers with a fresh pair before you climbed in between the sheets. Kate was a fucking genius. You’d have to buy her some flowers.

Ghost returned to you after a few minutes, following your lead and stripping down, then joining you in bed, immediately wrapping his arms around you. He cradled you against his bare chest, his fingers stroking through your hair.

“You are a dirty bird, you know that? Got me fuckin’ addicted already.”

In contrast to his words, he pressed a gentle kiss to your head before he rested his chin atop it, letting out a heavy sigh, “Come on. Sleep before you keep me up all night.”

Tempted as you were, cumming did make you sleepy, so you did as you were told, curling up into him and letting your body wind down, still wonderfully relaxed and loose, resting your cheek on his bicep as you slowly drifted off.

#jack writes #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod fic #simon ghost x reader

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sungbeam · 2 years ago

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nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

you won't think golf is a boring sport after he's done with you! (but it's not about golf, and it's not about swings. just a young heir with money, love, and a thing for you.)

▷ genre, warnings. technically s2l, country club au, summer break au, starts with him already into you, slight pining? idk, fluff, humor, rich people™, golf lol, swearing, drinking, kissing, it gets like actually romantic, Eric Sohn bc he's so attractive someone help me.

▷ word count. 11.4k

▷ inspired by swing my way (cha cha malone & phe r.e.d.s)

a/n: my submission for the deoboyznet summer on you event! and @mosviqu who implanted the idea of country club rich boy eric into my brain @@

It wasn't like Eric Sohn, heir to his parents' multi-million dollar investment firm, prized shortstop of the UCLA baseball team, planned to spend his entire summer charming his parents' clients and partners. A summer spent at the Beverly Hills Country Club wasn't something new for the young heir either. The rolling, emerald green hills for golf; the clean cement tennis courts; the dim and classy bars were all ingrained in him since childhood. They were environments Eric had learned to thrive in, and when one had the advantage, one was always taught to wield it like a blade.

At least, that was what he was taught. Over the years, he'd also learned that his extroverted personality and charming smile were disarming—and his pretty boy appearance often resulted in others underestimating him. That was their mistake.

"...that trip to Taiwan will be such a great opportunity to explore the relationship between our companies."

Eric clasped Mr. Thomas Tsaur's hand in a firm shake as the two men stood at the final hole of the golf course. Eric beamed. "Yes, of course! I know my mom would love to see the night markets around Taipei; my parents have been looking forward to the trip all year," he said, as easy as breathing air. Of course, he didn't really know if his parents were looking forward to it. If he was the one on his way to Taiwan instead, he knew that he himself would be ecstatic.

During business meetings—and meetings that weren't officially classified as business, but were definitely about business—Eric tried to stay as true to himself as possible. Once in a while, some of the persona he'd built up slipped through the cracks, but there was a reason he liked baseball more than business.

Mr. Tsaur made a pleasant reply back about promising a fun-filled tour of the city with his wife, and the two of them were splitting up. There were offhanded comments about seeing each other for dinner when Eric's parents finally arrived, but that was all that was left of the interaction.

Eric jogged down the hill toward the conventional path where a white-topped golf cart sat waiting for him. His driver and caddy companion for the day was Jacob Bae, a regular worker here at the country club whom Eric had known for at least a couple years now.

But instead of just Jacob and the cart, Eric found that someone else had joined the group.

You sat in the second row of the golf cart with a circular serving tray pressed over your lap. Like some of the other staff members at the club, you wore the standard black, collared shirt and black skort. He'd seen you around this place plenty of times this summer and even greeted you once or twice, but he knew you were new.

Oh, trust that he knew a new face when he saw one, especially when said face was as pretty as yours. The only shame was that you were often assigned to areas where Eric didn't exactly frequent, but he never took himself as the type to give up easily.

You and Jacob were sharing a laugh as Eric approached the golf cart with his golf putter in hand. "Hey guys," Eric chirped.

All the attention flickered over to Eric, but he couldn't stop staring at the way the slight breeze this afternoon was making your hair fall in your face all pretty. Even in a braid, the little strands fell out to frame your face.

"Oh, hi Eric! How was the last round?" Jacob asked as he twisted around in his driver's seat to watch Eric round the back to put his putter away. You had shifted in your seat slightly to follow him with your eyes, as well.

Eric slid the stick into his bag and caught your eyes. His smile widened. "It went well. Same old, same old," he chuckled, bracing a gloves hand on the roof of the cart. "When'd you get here, Yn?" He asked you with a nod of his chin.

You perked up at the sound of your name. Cute. "Ah, just a few minutes ago," you said. You sheepishly gestured to your empty tray. "Haknyeon dropped me off a few holes over to deliver drinks, and then I saw Jacob over here and walked over to catch a ride back to the clubhouse."

"I can't believe he just ditched you," Jacob chortled.

Eric circled around the cart to take the seat in the front beside Jacob. "He ditched you?" He frowned, leaning his arm over the back of the seat to look at you.

As the cart began making its smooth return down the path and over a small bridge, you smoothed your braid over your shoulder. "No, no! He didn't ditch me; we were just headed in the same direction until we… weren't," you mused. "I mean, if Cobie wasn't here, a walk back wouldn't have been the worst thing anyways."

"I guess," Eric agreed, biting his lip. "So, uh… ever played golf before?"

"Golf? It's been a while, but yeah, I've driven the occasional golf ball across a green."

From the driver's seat, Jacob slapped his right hand down on Eric's shoulder. "Yn-ie! This guy's one of the best casual golf players you'll probably ever meet. His swing? So clean."

Eric chuckled, clasping a hand on the back of his neck, when he felt your attention flicker back to him again. "I'm no pro…"

"I'll have to see that for myself then," you said with a smile.

The golf cart slowed to a stop in front of the doors into the main kitchens of the clubhouse proper. Because this main kitchen was so large, they were given their own set of doors directly to the outdoor courts and beyond for easy access. While Jacob would drop you off here, he would have to continue onward for Eric's proper spot.

You clambered out of the golf cart, poking Jacob in the shoulder as you went. "Bye, guys! Thanks for the ride, Cobie."

"Bye, Yn!" Both boys chimed together. When you disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors, Jacob pulled the cart back onto the main road to carry onward.

Eric settled into his seat to face forward once again. He lifted the cap off his head and carded a hand through his hair to let the strands, dampened with sweat, dry a bit. "I didn't know Yn was allowed to work the golf range," he commented as innocently as possible.

Jacob made a small humming noise. "Yeah, we're short a couple people out here because of the Ferndale event going on down by the gazebo."

"She wasn't sent there?"

"Did you want her to be sent there?" Jacob grinned slyly at the young heir, who turned his gaze elsewhere.

Eric coughed. "I didn't say that."

His companion still would not wipe that knowing smile off his face, even as he slowed the golf cart to a stop and Eric hopped out to collect his equipment from the back. "I didn't say you did," he snickered as Eric walked away.

He didn't give Jacob the satisfaction of an answer, instead, saying a "thank you" for driving him over his shoulder, before ducking inside the clubhouse locker room.

Jacob shook his head in amusement and began making his way further down the path to return the cart. Silly, silly kids.

You didn't realize country clubs were real until you were sitting in the office of the Beverly Hills Country Club's hiring manager and being hired. That was about a month ago, and no, you still didn't believe it was real. The entire training experience, in fact, had swept through like a fever dream.

The summer season had just begun, though, and they had taken you on in a rush of desperation. You hadn't failed to notice how relieved the hiring manager looked when you told him you'd worked as a waitress at an upscale wedding venue before you moved cross-country, and knew how to carry a drink platter and dirty dishes. That was part of the reason you'd been hired on the spot. You'd also mentioned your extensive knowledge of how to fold cloth napkins into swans, and you liked to think that was your true selling point. (Don't ask, the last part was because you had been very bored while waiting in the backroom during a wedding.)

And while you cared little about cleaning pools or catering to rich prick egos, you did care about the crisp green bills that graced your eyes with more frequency than a Superman actor on Hollywood Boulevard. There was also the possibility to gain some more experience in the dining and catering world; if you were lucky, you could butter up your manager to let you help out in the kitchen some.

After all, that was why you were here so far from home.

"Yn, you've got company at table five," Haknyeon said as he passed by you on his way into the kitchen.

You gave a nod out of instinct. You brushed your hands against your black waist apron, absentmindedly reaching up to also smooth out the black vest on your upper half. Usually when you worked at the club's restaurants and bars as wait staff, your uniform consisted of a white button down under a black vest, followed by a black skirt and apron. It was classy and chic, and definitely added to the expensive atmosphere.

You could see table five in your section up ahead. It was a little early into dinner service, but there were still people who came in. To your surprise, the company at table five was none other than Eric Sohn himself, along with two others you recognized as his parents. They were dressed casually—meaning semiformal. It was something out of a dinner cruise, with Eric's dark brunette waves styled effortlessly messy and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal the slightly bronzed, toned skin beneath—

You cleared your throat, plastering a smile on your face as you approached the table. "Evening, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. Sohn," you gave a small greeting bow to his parents, then swiftly doled out little napkins for their drinks. "It's nice to see you on the grounds again today."

"Oh, Yn! It's very nice to see you this evening," said Mrs. Sohn with a delicate flourish of her wrist.

"Yes!" Mr. Sohn chimed in, "What have you been up to? Eric says he saw you on the golf range today."

Your eyes darted to Eric's, then went back to his parents when you realized his eyes were on you. You laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and bracing the end of your serving tray against your waist. "Oh, uhm, yeah! I was just summoned down there to get some drinks to the Santos family—you know them, right?"

Recognition lit up in Eric's mother's eyes. "Yes, yes! Marina and her kids! Ah, well that sounds nice; I'll have to see if I can bump into her at the spa or something. Eric gave you a ride back in his cart, didn't he? The walk back is awfully far."

You nodded. "Yeah, of course. He was with Jacob, so I just hopped in the back and rode back with them here."

"I still owe you that golf date," Eric cut in smoothly, the hand with his Rolex draped over the back of his chair. His smile was casual, innocent, the kind that so easily could make anyone do his bidding.

"Golf date?" His parents glanced curiously between the two of you, and you felt heat rush up to your cheeks.

"It was just an offhand comment," you said sheepishly. "Jacob was telling me about how great of a golfer Eric is and I said I wanted to see his swing some time." Before anything else could be said on the matter, you tucked your tray under your arm and replaced it with your notepad and pen. "Can I get you anything to drink? An appetizer to start?"

That drew away the conversation promptly. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date with Eric Sohn, it just wasn't that simple. Though the club officially encouraged good relationships between staff and club members, they didn't exactly encourage the romantic kind of relationship. Obviously, it would be impossible to enforce a no-entanglement policy completely, but you wanted to stay on your manager's good side.

You nearly folded in half over the counter of the tiki bar at the pool. Sweat streamed down the side of your face, and you were pretty sure your baby hairs looked akin to a lion's mane under your white baseball cap. Thank god the club didn't force you to wear a black colored hat instead; the black polo and skort were death enough.

Jacob chuckled as he passed you a clean, damp towel that had been soaking in ice water. "Before you get heat stroke," he said, then returned to preparing a tray of drinks someone had ordered at the hot tub.

You thanked him profusely, dabbing your face and neck with the cool blessing. "Sheesh," you groaned. "I think I need to reapply my sunscreen soon. How are you out here all the time, Cobie?"

He grinned with a half-hearted shrug. "Well, I work with cold drinks and I'm under the shade. And—" he tapped the handy little fan clipped to one of the structure poles of the tiki bar, "—this beautiful work of engineering."

"I need one of those umbrella hats and squirt bottles kids bring to Disneyland," you grumbled and plucked yourself up from the bar. You returned the towel to Jacob so he could toss it into the soiled towel bin on the other side of him. You watched as he finished up filling the tray and whistled at the pool waiter who had ordered it for the group at the hot tub.

As the waiter walked away with the drinks, you thought aloud, "How could they stand to be in the hot tub in this heat?" From here, you could see the group of girls gathered in the bubbling jets of the hot tub at the far end of the pool in their bikini tops and Gucci shades.

"They're not standing—they're sitting."

You sent Jacob an unimpressed look, to which he simply smiled wider.

"Hey guys!" Ji Changmin huffed and puffed as he collapsed onto the barstool next to you. He had a towel hanging around his shoulders and a white sweatband holding up his dark bangs dripping with sweat. "Can I get an ice water, hyung?"

"Yeah, man," Jacob said, already dumping a scoop of ice in a cup.

"You alright there, Changmin?" You glanced over at the club's dance instructor with barely concealed amusement.

Changmin took the corner of his towel to dry the dribble of sweat making its way down his forehead. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to do hot Zumba in the height of summer needs a reality check. I think I'm dying."

As one of the country club's primary dance instructors, not only did Changmin lead all of the dance activities on the grounds, he was also supposed to take over any dance aerobics classes like said hot Zumba. You knew it wasn't his favorite, but it was still funny to make faces at him through the window as he did can-can kicks in leg warmers with all of the rich moms.

You leaned down to check if he had the leg warmers on. He did not. At least he finally had the good sense to break uniform.

Jacob slid over an ice-cold glass of water, and Changmin drained it like a man who trekked through the desert for seven days. You glanced at Jacob's digital clock on the counter behind him—he kept it so he could be on time for all of his breaks.

"Oh shit," you said, quickly fixing your cap and adjusting your hair, "time for me to get back to work."

Changmin straightened. "Where are you stationed today, Yn-ie? Chanhee and I wanted to come pick you up later for dinner before we have to come back."

"That's right!" Jacob slapped his palm to his forehead. "We have to all be back here for the banquet. I almost forgot, damn it."

You cocked a brow at him. "Wow, you, Jacob Bae, almost forgot about the major event all of our jobs are riding on that's taking place tonight?"

A smile curled onto your face when Jacob narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you have work to do?"

You let out a laugh and began backing away from the tiki bar and your friends. "Kim has me at the ice cream bar until the end of my shift, Changmin. I'll catch you boys later!"

Jacob and Changmin raised their hands in twin waves to you as you walked away. If you remembered the time on Jacob's clock correctly, you had about fifteen minutes to get up to the indoor ice cream bar for your shift.

Tonight, the country club was hosting a banquet for one of the business men here. It was supposedly one of the most important events for the club's reputation, so it was all hands on deck. Everyone from Chanhee at the spa to Haknyeon in the kitchen were called upon to clock into work once again tonight to help out. You were glad you weren't a part of the set-up and takedown committees, but you were expected to wait on the banquet. Jacob was supposed to be bartending tonight, as usual, and your other friends and coworkers would be waiting alongside you.

You glanced up on your walk out of the pool area and nearly tripped over the soles of your sneakers.

Coming in hot (literally) were none other than Eric Sohn, Lee Hyunjae, and Lee Juyeon—all of whom were very much shirtless. Swim trunks hung low on their waists, their stomachs carved like triplet Michaelangelos. Seeing shirtless guys at the pool wasn't new for you, but these guys were actually around your age.

Eric saw you first and waved. "Yn, hey!"

"Hi guys," you greeted back with a shallow nod of your head. "Nice day out for a swim."

"I know, right?" Hyunjae raised a hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving summer sun. "You must be baking in that uniform, Yn." He raised his chin to gesture at the all black attire.

"I don't suppose you'd be able to join us?" Juyeon smiled. He knew you probably couldn't join them because you were clocked in, but he had always been pretty nice nonetheless. He and Hyunjae were cousins, and the Lee family was well-known around here for being big names in the legal sphere, as well as being one of the larger families. There was another cousin of theirs around their age running around here somewhere, too.

You gave a helpless shrug. "Duty calls, unfortunately."

"Yn, hey wait—" Eric caught your attention as you were about to continue walking up toward the main clubhouse. He flashed you that smile again, the one that made your stomach do flips and would convince you to do flips for him if only he asked. "You won't happen to be working at the banquet tonight, are you?"

"How'd you guess?" You replied good-naturedly. "Why do you ask?"

He began walking backwards toward the direction his friends had drifted off to, his smile tilting up slightly. "So I know which cologne I should wear."

And it definitely wasn't a trick of the summer sun that made you see him wink at you.

"He's into you."

"He is not—" you wrestled your sleeve up your forearm and made a frustrated noise when the button would not go through, "—into me."

Chanhee gave you a nice, slow eye roll just so you would see it, and he yanked the sleeve away from you so he could roll it up himself. "A lot of men around here like smelling nice, but no one pulls out the Acqua Di Gio just for the service girl or a business banquet," he hissed as a fellow waiter rushed past you two in the narrow corridor. "Jesus, why is this button such a bitch?"

"That's what I'm saying," you hissed back at him as the two of you both struggled to fix your sleeve. "Not the cologne thingy—I hate how you're able to just take a whiff and name the cologne. What kind of demon nose do you have?"

Chanhee sighed and collapsed against the wall opposite to you when he finally managed to get the sleeve right. The two of you were currently on break, not hiding, in this corridor. In T-minus two minutes, you would both have to be back out in the hustle and bustle of cleanup or after-party drinks in the lounge. Because the main course had finally been served, a lot of the waiters were allowed to go on break. The banquet thus far had gone relatively smoothly, other than the fact that when you had served Eric all of his courses, he'd made sure you practically melted on the smell of his cologne.

It wasn't your fault you had to bend down close to him to not spill the hot food. And it wasn't your fault that he chose to put his mouth right to your ear when he told you a joke, masking it as asking for more water.

You couldn't decide if you were going to giggle or let your knees buckle at that moment. Thank god you managed to laugh behind your hand and hustle away before anyone noticed.

But that was besides the point. The point was that Chanhee had also passed by Eric, caught the faint trail of Aqua De Whatever, and connected some dots.

"If you want a demon, you talk to Changmin," he said. "I just know my shit. And I also know that you only break out the Acqua Di Gio when you want to attract someone, and based on the fact he's currently seated around about fifty other businesspeople…" Chanhee made a wild, desperate gesture with his hands, eyes widened. Are you getting this? He seemed to ask. Because I will smack you if you aren't.

You fanned yourself, justifying it by thinking about how hot the back hallway was and this outfit was, rather than admitting that it was because Eric was hot. "Okay, okay. Come on, we have to get back out there," you said, already turning your heel toward the door.

"I'm just saying that clearly he's been trying to tell you something," Chanhee added as you both broke out of the hallway and into the kitchen. He grabbed a circular serving tray from a stack on the counter next to him to hand over to you.

"Well, what do you suppose I should do with that?"

He pressed his lips into a thin smile, taking hold of a small, empty cart and pushing it ahead of him. "Just keep an open mind, darling."

You and Chanhee separated at the kitchen doors out into the banquet hall. While he would be a part of cleaning up, you needed to head over to the next-door parlor where the party had moved post-dinner. Business would continue as usual, just with a few more drinks and pool involved.

The parlor room was arguably one of your favorite rooms in the club with its cozier atmosphere created by the evergreen walls, tiffany-shaded lamps, and dark oak furnishings. It was also outfitted with a hearth (unused during the summer and spring) and a billiards table. Most of those who had chosen to stay had migrated with a certain crowd of people they planned to continue chatting with. Your job, as well as the few others recruited to the parlor, was to be a fly on the wall until somebody needed something. If tips were passed around, you were free to pocket them.

You were probably standing and waiting for only five minutes before you saw Eric stand up from where he was on the far side of the room. He shouldered his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of his armchair, exposing the white dress shirt and black vest beneath. Whew, he was wearing a full suit to this event? You wondered how he even survived, but all conscious thought flew out the window when he caught you staring and started smirking to himself. The smug, little expression stayed etched into the sharp planes of his face even as he strolled over to the pool table and lined up his shot.

You wondered—and it was just a thought—what it'd be like (possibly) for him to lean over you—

"Excuse me, miss?" You shook out of your daze and remembered why you were here. Unfortunately, it was not to admire the young heir watching you from the other side of the room, but to serve guests.

For the next couple of hours, your job was exactly what you did. You had been so focused on running back and forth from the bar in the other room and back that you always seemed to have missed Eric trying to catch your eye again. If he wanted drinks, he had to suck it up and ask someone else who just happened to be near him instead.

As the evening dwindled into a sweet, humid night, the amount of guests also began to trickle down. You had grabbed a rag on your way back to the parlor room and said goodbye to your coworkers on their way out. Some still lingered for last minute clean up, and though you were technically done for the night, you wanted to wipe down anything you had missed. It was something simple that you could do to help out a colleague, and it wasn't like you were in a rush to go home.

When you walked back into the parlor room, however, you blinked—surprised—at the sight of an individual left. He leaned against the billiards table, one hand holding the edge of the suit jacket draped over his shoulder and the other scrolling through his phone.

Eric glanced up from his device and pocketed it at the sight of you. "Hey."

"Hi," you said back. "Uhm, can I get you anything—"

"Oh, no no. I'm good." He shook his head, pushing off from the table. He shot you that signature boyish smile of his and your heart began doing cartwheels. "I just wanted to ask if I could give you a lift home."

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Truthfully, you were caught off guard, stunned. This wasn't what you were expecting from him.

He saw your hesitation and let out a sheepish laugh, cupping the back of his head. "Sorry, this is so out of the blue. I… it's a little late out right now, and I didn't know if you had a ride or not. I know you're not usually scheduled to work so late."

"You know my schedule?" You blurted. Though, the thought did warm you and amuse you.

His eyes widened. "I mean, uhm, definitely not in the creepy, stalkerish sort of way! I uh, I like to think I pay a lot more attention when it comes to you." His admission didn't do much to slow the racing organ in your chest cavity. You always saw Eric Sohn as one of those smooth and collected young men who were born to charm. But seeing him flustered and tripping over his words because of you?

You ducked your head slightly, flattered and most definitely charmed still. "I'd really appreciate a lift home, Eric."

You both shared a smile in the slightly dimmed, slightly warmed lights of the parlor room.

Once you had finished glossing over the surfaces of the parlor room with your rag to catch any rings made by perspiring liquids, your manager dismissed you for the night. Eric told you he would meet you out front where he would bring his car around for you. You found yourself standing at the edge of the curb with a gentle, yet rare summer breeze wafting through your hair. You had your bag slung over your shoulder, and you grasped the strap and fidgeted with the material.

A car pulled up to the circular driveway—it was a sports car. The Corvette, sleek and aerodynamic, was doused in a shiny orange coat of paint that glimmered even in the night. The passenger side window rolled down so you could see Eric leaning over the center console and waving to you.

"Hey, hop in!" He said to you with a grin, lowering the music he was playing.

Gingerly, you walked up to the car and managed to maneuver yourself inside. The passenger seat was lined in soft black leather, and the inside of the car made it all the more easy to suffocate on that delicious cologne of his.

Eric had ditched his suit jacket and vest in the backseat of the car, leaving him in just his white dress shirt and slacks.

"Nice car," you whistled lowly as you buckled yourself in.

His mouth tilted upward. "Thanks," he said. He fussed around with his phone for a second before passing the device to you. "If you wouldn't mind putting your number and address in."

"Oh." It was a brand new contact page. You didn't question it, swiftly inputting all of the necessary information before returning his phone to him.

Eric took a peek at the address, then pulled out of the country club's driveway. You didn't live too far away from the club, luckily. It was only a few minute's drive, but the walk sometimes felt a bit longer. California didn't exactly have the most convenient public transportation system, and in an area like Beverly Hills, it was near impossible to find a reliable bus or train service.

"Any music preferences?" He asked you quietly.

You shook your head. "I'm not super picky. What you have on is all good with me."

"I have to confess, Yn," he said with a half smile, eyes darting toward you, "that I was trying to steal your attention all night."

Your stomach flipped and you suppressed the smile that threatened to crawl onto your mouth. "Really?"

He laughed. "Yeah, but obviously, your work ethic beat me out, as well as my own luck."

"Any reason for seeking me out?" He'd technically had your attention all throughout the banquet, but he had also needed to entertain and chat with the other people around him. While the after party was sometimes used for business discussion, too, the banquet dinner itself was the main event.

"I mean, besides wanting to talk to the cute girl eating up all my thoughts?"

He was turning onto your apartment complex's street all too soon. The car slid into a parking spot along the curb, and he twisted in his seat to face you. "I really want to take you out, show you a good time. It doesn't have to be something fancy if that's not your vibe; we can always start with golf."

You let the smile bloom on your face at the reference to the "golf date" you both had yet to schedule. You still wanted to see his swing, after all. "Then it's a date," you said, "I should have a free day two days from now, if that works for you."

Eric bit his lip. "I'm all yours, hon."

Before you could start doing somersaults from excitement, you resolved yourself to getting into your apartment first. "Well, thank you again for the lift, Eric. You have my number?"

He nodded. "Never losing it."

You grinned something fond. He grinned right back at you. "Get home safe."

"I will. Good night, cutie."

You slammed the car door shut and left Eric to his lonesome. Through the passenger side window, Eric watched as you disappeared into your apartment complex, safe and sound. He had almost given into the urge to ask if he could walk you up, but it was a miracle you had even taken him up on his offer to drive you home.

He pulled up your contact and sent you a text so you could have his number, too, as soon as possible. He deposited his phone into the cup holder, then punched the roof of his car with a shit-eating grin on his face. He'd scored your number and a date in one night—damn right, he did.

You had reasoned with yourself that this was okay based on the fact that you weren't on company time.

"Shoooooot," you whistled with a slight arch in your brows and applause. You tracked the distance Eric's driving shot sent the golf ball flying, and in the early morning sunlight, the white sphere disappeared over the crest of green hill.

You figured being courted by a club member during your own free time was a loophole you could live with. Especially when such a loophole looked so good swinging a golf club.

His follow through was just as beautiful as he was, his arms lifting the golf club over behind him from the arc. When he lowered the club to turn back to you, he was beaming. "What's the verdict?"

Your golf club was currently acting as your arm rest as you staked the head against the grass. "I don't know, Eric," you sucked in a breath, teasingly. "I think you could've gone pro."

He laughed then, eyes narrowed into glorious upturned crescent moons. "Thanks, cutie." He made a gesture to the tee. "All yours."

"Let me preface this by saying that it's been awhile," you were quick to say as the nerves suddenly bubbled up into your chest and made you wanna do a jittery shuffle. You should not have let Eric go first.

"No worries," he chirped. "Why don't we practice first?"

Yes, practice. Thank god he knew where your head was at.

You eagerly agreed, and set your golf ball up on the tee. Nervously, you smoothed your gloves down the front of your pleated golf skirt. You lined up the face of the golf club with the ball and pulled it back a millimeter—

Then chickened out.

"Performance anxiety," you grimaced to your date.

"Oh, well, that's okay!" Eric set his golf club down on the field and made his way over to you. "Can I help?"

Yes. "Please do," you chuckled, leaving room for him to take your club.

But instead, he shook his head. "No, no. You won't learn anything from just watching, silly goose."

He grabbed the golf club over your hands and lined both of your bodies up correctly. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his front pressed against your back. His mouth was so close to your ear again, and there was that damned cologne making you see hearts.

"Sorry, is this okay?" He asked softly.

You gulped, nodding. "Yeah. Perfectly okay." You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat quicken like a drum crescendoing. If he wasn't careful, your heart might just fall out and run to his arms.

From this position, Eric smoothly guided you through the steps of a perfect swing. The pullback was cranked over your shoulder, then the club would swing straight through, followed by the arc back over your other shoulder and the appropriate turn of your body. As he had explained to you, getting the perfect swing or shot in sports mostly came down to the follow through. If one could not back up their initial movement, then why make the shot?

"—and you turn your body—yeah, just like that," he praised as you automatically rotated yourself from the side to the front, the toe of your foot digging into the ground and turning with you. "That's beautiful."

He backed up from you then, giving you some space. It suddenly felt like you were missing something with him gone. "You should try it now!"

You took a deep breath in as you lined your golf club up with the ball again. Cranking the club back over your shoulder, you swung it down and back up again. When the face of the club met the ball, it did so with a resounding PING!, and the ball went sailing.

(That sound… mwah. The sweet, sweet sound of triumph.)

"You did it!"

"I did it!"

It hadn't gone as far as Eric's had, but it had definitely traveled farther than it would have without his help. You whirled to him, clasping his hand with yours as you both shared equally radiant smiles. A giddiness flooded into you, and no doubt into the glow of your face.

"See? Not too bad," he said, squeezing your hand.

"All thanks to you," you pointed out.

He shook his head, using your linked hands to lead you back to where your golf bags were waiting a little ways back by the cart. "Nah, you had it in you, Yn. It was just performance anxiety, as you said."

The two of you each grabbed your own bags and hiked them over your shoulder to head down the hill and find your respective golf balls. From this view, you could see that the other patrons of the club were slowly trickling out onto the acres surrounding. It felt strange to be here as not a staff member, but as a guest instead.

Eric piped up, "Is it weird that I was hoping you would ask for my help?"

"Not really," you mused, then meekly added, "'cause I was kind of hoping you would offer your help."

He looked about as happy as you felt, and he swung your hands together between you.

It hit you, then, that you were still holding hands. But you didn't let go, and Eric didn't say anything. He just helped you find your golf ball, line up another shot, and hugged you from behind like it was nothing.

From across the pond, Jacob, Changmin, Chanhee, and Haknyeon pulled up over the bridge. The four of them were all piled into a golf cart, and Jacob stopped it just over the crest. They all knew about where you were today and why you were dressed in proper golf attire rather than the country club uniform. They watched with wide eyes (and maybe a camera or two) as you and Eric had a good time.

"Young love," Jacob sighed fondly from his spot in the driver's seat.

"I think it's gross," Changmin giggled. He yelped, furiously rubbing the place on his shoulder that Chanhee had whacked. "Hey! I was kidding!"

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "Let them have their moment. I'm glad Yn-ie let herself have fun with him."

"They look like they're having quite the time," Haknyeon said. "They're cute."

Changmin poked his head in between Jacob and Haknyeon from the backseat. "Just a thought, but what if we turned on the sprinklers like in High School Musical 2?"

An exchange of looks, a deep consideration… "No," they all chorused. They would get their asses kicked for that.

You were on lunch break when Changmin practically crashed onto the bench next to you with a crazed look in his eyes. "You. Me. Spa. Now."

You couldn't even say goodbye to the sandwich you were eating before Changmin grabbed your arm and dragged you across the club.

"Changmin! What the hell—"

"I'll explain in a second!" He hissed back at you while ducking into the service entrance of the spa.

The backdoor led to a staff break room, where Chanhee was currently (coincidentally) seated on a stool eating a box of Pepero while watching a cartoon on his phone. The man glanced up from his phone at the loud commotion, one cheek full of his snack, and he blinked. "You're lucky I'm not with a client right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Changmin said, dragging you and a stool over to Chanhee at the same time. He pushed your shoulders so you would take a seat. Changmin placed his hands on his hips as he stood before the two of you. "You're never gonna guess what I just overheard."

"What?" You and Chanhee asked at the same time.

"Well, you know Clara?"

Chanhee jumped right in. "The one fooling around with that Brian Yang guy. He's the heir to that one corporation monopolizing SIM cards or some shit."

How the hell…?

Changmin's head bobbed vigorously. "Yes, yes! That's the one. Anyways—I was walking past the manager's office and they were talking loud enough to hear with headphones on. Apparently, Clara and Brian had a nasty, nasty split, and Brian got her fired."

Silence.

Chanhee's eyebrows flew up. "Like… fired-fired?"

A grave nod. "Fired-fired."

You held your head in your hands. "Just because of a break up?" You asked. "Clara is such a nice girl."

Your friend's lips were pressed into a line. "Doesn't mean he's a nice guy. I dunno—" he threw his hands in the air and let them flop back against his legs, "—it's fucked, man. He said it was, like, too awkward to be around her all the time since he was here all the time. And because his father is one of the stockholders of the country club, Manager Kim could do little but do his bidding."

Your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach. Drama like this didn't really happen often here, but there was always something going on.

You always thought there were assholes here, but sometimes they just kept on reminding you of it.

"And now I'm fooling around with one of the club members," you thought aloud. The realization hit you, a golf ball to the face. "Oh my god."

Chanhee's hand came up to your shoulder and gave you a soothing, warm squeeze. "Eric seems like a good guy, Yn-ie. You never know."

"But you really never know," you murmured. There was a reason why the club discouraged romantic relations between club members and staff. Perhaps this time, it wasn't about work productivity, but about keeping your damn jobs. You needed this job. You needed it so desperately because of the money, the opportunities, the connections. Not to mention all of the people you'd befriended here… it didn't seem right that you were scared of what Eric could do to you, but reality was settling in fast.

The Sohns were a major shareholder in the club, which meant they could pull strings like tying a shoelace.

But Eric is good. He's been good, you reasoned.

Changmin crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall behind him. "You should talk to him. At the very least, you only went on one date, so it's not like you're completely involved yet."

That was a good point. You were going to run with it.

When Eric invited you over to his house, you should have known you were about to drive your beat up sedan into the driveway of a palace, not a house. A house was for normal people, not whoever the Sohns were, you knew that much. To say you were intimidated by the massive front lawn, iron gates, and limestone arches and columns would be an understatement. Maybe you should have worn something nicer.

You pulled up to the curb of the roundabout—he'd mentioned to you that you could just park there. Apparently the garage was a little inconvenient for guests, but you weren't complaining. The front of the house was a marvel to look at, and wherever that garage was would have left you unable to fully soak in this modern wonder. Plus, you had some time to pull yourself together before seeing Eric.

The plan was… no plan, really. He wanted to hang out with you, and you'd mentioned your love for cooking. Thus, he proposed a miniature cooking class in his kitchen, along with dinner on the patio. It sounded nice. It also sounded great when you remembered what you needed to talk to him about. (Yay.)

It's not a big deal. Eric's cool.

You finally managed to trek your way up to the front door and you booped the doorbell. It was one of those loud bells that must have echoed throughout the house, because you could clearly hear it from the outside.

A couple minutes later, you heard the locking mechanism come undone. The door opened after; you swore that every time you saw this guy, you became speechless.

You had seen him in a dress shirt before, but this tank top and over-shirt thing was new. It was casual and comfortable, yet chic. His hair was styled in the same manner his clothing was—simple and so attractive. A silver chain and matching silver rings added the subtle touch of elegance to pull everything together.

"Hi," he grinned—he was always smiling, you realized. It was such a pretty smile. He stepped aside and gave you room in the doorway. "Come on in, cutie."

"Thanks for having me over," you said pleasantly, trying not to openly gawk at the front foyer with the sky-high ceiling, chandelier dripping with crystals, and grand staircase wrapping around the walls up to the indoor balcony.

He closed the door behind you as you deposited your shoes by the small rack. Eric wrapped a loose arm around your shoulder to guide you through the foyer. "Of course! I'm so excited you're here; I went out—actually no, I…" he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "ordered it off that grocery app. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for."

"Grocery app?" You laughed. "Are you talking about the stuff for dinner?"

"Yeah!"

The two of you entered the kitchen. It was a wide, open space that flowed straight into the living room. The cabinets were smooth and snow white, accented with countertops marbled with black and hints of gold. Though clean, it was a space well-loved with a recipe book left open to a lobster risotto; little candies left in a jar on the island labeled with chalk; barstools that weren't quite aligned, like they'd actually been sat on. The living room, too, was beautiful. Massive, but beautiful, with a wraparound couch sectional and a flat screen with family photos hung above it. It was framed by shelves filled to the brim with CD and DVD cases, more family photos, books, and little baubles.

And the lighting. Oh man, the natural lighting from the windows making up the entire back wall… it led out onto the acres of land his family owned, as well as a patio that overlooked the valley.

Eric had mentioned dinner on the patio. If your math was right, that meant you would probably be dining at sunset, all while overlooking a splendid view—how romantic. God, you hated how giddy you were starting to get. Those butterflies in your stomach would not cease.

"You have a really, really beautiful home," you murmured, letting him take your bag from you to place on one of the barstools.

You had always thought that big houses like this would be so difficult to fill. What was one supposed to do with so much space anyway? From the pictures on the wall, you could see Eric's parents, himself, as well as a sister who must have been out making her own mark on the world in that special Sohn kind of way. Even with just four people in this place… they still managed to make it feel like a home and not a house. It was like your own house back in your hometown, across the country. It was lived-in and warm and yours, and that was the beauty of it. And you were certain by just looking at this place that the Sohns were a family who loved each other.

How could you not believe in Eric? Not with all of this to vouch for him? He had grown up loved.

"Thank you," he said. "It's one of my favorite places to be. That's why I still haunt it like a ghost," he joked. He placed a warm hand on the small of your back and led you over to the fridge where he had put all of the grocery delivery bags in. Even the fridge was relatively stocked. "Not sure if everything I got was right, but hopefully it'll all turn out delicious anyway."

You helped him unload the bags onto the kitchen island, raising a brow at the labels on the groceries. They were on the higher end of price and quality, which definitely wasn't a problem, but holding a hundred dollar bottle of red wine just for sauce was making your anxiety levels spike. "Oh, no. It all looks great, Eric. Thanks for getting these, by the way. I would have gone out and brought them here, but—"

He waved away your worries. "You're busy and you're working. Plus, it lets me technically pay for dinner," he said with a cheeky look on his face and gesturing with a finger gun. It was cute. He was cute.

"Smooth, Sohn. I see you."

"That's what they called me in high school," he played along, dancing on his toes behind you to fiddle with his phone and turn on a speaker somewhere (you didn't know where). "Smooth Sohn."

You snorted, slapping a hand over your mouth. Eric's eyes glittered with a mutual mirth. "Whatever you say, honey."

He waltzed back over to you, tongue in cheek. "I like that better though—honey." He leaned back against the counter next to you and watched as you sorted out the ingredients in different piles depending on how they should be prepped. "So what's the plan, chef? You're the boss."

"I'd love to know where your knives and cutting boards are," you said.

He leapt into action. "Say no more!"

In reality, you did have to say more. It wasn't that Eric didn't know where everything was in the kitchen, he just wasn't as well versed in using the kitchen. He'd told you while teaching him how to hold a knife properly that he really only came in here for ramen. Good news was he could crack an egg with one hand; bad news was that was about all he could do. It was still charming, nonetheless. And the cute cooking lesson gave him plenty of opportunity to get close to you.

He had even insisted on you teaching him how to chop carrots like how he had taught you how to swing a golf club—over and around him—with your hands over his and your body wrapped around his, your chin on his shoulder.

But with dinner well past done, the two of you made your way out onto the patio just as the sun was sinking into the embrace of the valley below. It melted into the sky like a broken yolk, saturated and golden. He let you have the seat staring out into the valley. The way he looked at you though, made you feel like you were his million dollar valley view.

The table was set with twin glasses of red wine (amazing what a good wine paired with beef stew could do for the soul), plates separated by a hot stew pot, and a couple of candles for ambiance.

"Wow," he moaned as the beef melted on his tongue. "This is so good. And you're telling me you're pretty, smart, and can cook?"

You held back a giggle so you could swallow your bite. "And I'm single," you jested.

"And you're single!" He leaned his head back, eyes closed. "Thank god for that."

Eric leaned his cheek on his fist, his head cocked slightly and his eyes on you with a swoon-worthy admiration. "Thanks for coming out tonight and hanging out with me."

You could kiss him. "Please, I should be the one thanking you. It's been really fun hanging out with you." It was surreal, actually. The fact that this young heir had deemed you "worthy" or whatever to court and entertain—it wasn't like you defined your self worth by his attention and affection, but this felt nice. Your conversation with Changmin and Chanhee the other day came to the forefront of your mind.

"I, uhm, think this is a good time to ask if you wanted to do this more often? Hanging out with me, I mean."

You weren't sure if this was what you thought he was asking you. He reached for his wine glass, and in the fading sunlight and the candlelight illuminating the bashful expression on his face, your heart pounded.

"What I mean to say," he tried again after a small sip of wine, "is would you be my—"

"I think we should talk!" You cut in before you heard anymore. You were getting jittery, unable to figure out when was the right time to bring up the thing, but also, you wanted him to say his thing, and it was just a mess. But when you saw Eric's wide eyes, mouth zipped up, you repeated in a much calmer tone, "I think we should talk about something. It's not… it's not super serious or anything. I could just be overthinking."

Oh, you felt bad. He looked like a kicked puppy, but you saw him pull himself together for you. "It's—you're probably not overthinking, Yn. What's on your mind?"

The wine glass was put down. He even put his fork down.

Were you making a big deal out of this? Probably not, right? This was important, you reminded yourself. You pursed your lips. "So one of my coworkers—former coworkers," you amended, "Clara. Her name's Clara. She and this guy you might know, Brian Yang…"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know of him."

"Well, they kind of had this thing going on between them. And the other day, she was fired because they broke up and he thought it was too weird that she was working where he was hanging out all the time," you rambled on. "And I uhm, I just wanted to make sure from the get-go that… you know… it's stupid, I don't know. But it's my job, y'know? And—and I need this job, but I like you a lot, Eric. Am I making any sense?"

Neither of you were eating anymore.

You looked at him, hopelessly, searching for signs of understanding.

He leaned in slightly and reached for your hands over the table. "Yn, sweetheart," he said, lacing his fingers with yours over the pot of beef stew, "that is a valid point to bring up, and I can understand what you're probably thinking. That—that news must have been scary, or at least nerve-racking, and Brian's a dick for that—"

You nodded, swallowing.

"—and I don't want you to risk your job because of me," he said earnestly. "But I really want to see where this goes, you know? If anything happens and you don't feel the same way, then no harm, no foul. I'm not gonna take my emotions out on you like that asshole; that's not right."

The breath you had been holding in fell from your mouth, a wave of relief. A sappy, grateful sort of smile worked its way onto your mouth and you met Eric's own kind expression. "You are actually perfect," you let out a breathy laugh. "Where have you been all my life?"

He grinned. "Funny, that's what I've been thinking about you." Eric set your laced hands on the side of the table as he raised his glass to you. "So what do you say? Can we try this?"

You lifted your glass to gently clink it with his. "Let's do it."

"So he's perfect, but he hasn't kissed you yet?" Chanhee's gasp of incredulity hit you in a gust of air. His lips pursed like a penguin's beak. "Figures."

You sent him a look. "Oh, please. Figures what? He's just being… I dunno, chivalrous!"

"Chivalry is dead," Haknyeon snickered as he waltzed by you with fresh towels to lay out by the pool. "You should make the move, Yn."

"So you two are, like, dating now?" Asked Changmin as he hopped onto the tiki bar stool next to you and Chanhee. He kept on glancing down at his watch; he must have only a small break in between his dance classes today.

"They're 'seeing where things go,'" mocked Jacob with a shake of his head. He swirled a rag around the innards of a glass to dry it.

You sent them all dirty looks now. "Cobie, out of all the times you choose to be an imp—"

"An imp," Chanhee muttered, glancing away as he took a sip of his piña colada, "I'm dead."

"If it makes you feel better, Yn, I'm supervising a tennis match with him and the Lee cousins later today. I can get a feel of where his mind's at," Jacob offered.

You drummed your fingers against the bar. The offer was tempting… "It's fine," you insisted. "We don't have to rush things. We go to the same university and we live in the same city now. It's not like we don't have time… right?"

"Riiiight," Changmin drawled with an over exaggerated wink. He frowned at his watch, hopping off his stool. "Damn it, salsa class time. Catch you losers later!"

As he darted off into the distance, Chanhee sniffed. "Says the loser." He plucked the pink umbrella out of his drink and set the decoration down on his napkin. "You're not wrong, Yn-ie. Taking it slow isn't a bad thing. From what you told us, it seems like you're both on the same page now anyway."

"Thank you," you said.

"Maybe he's trying to plan a romantic moment." Haknyeon rejoined the conversation now that he had done his towel delivery.

Jacob nodded with an approving turn of his lips. "You might be onto something. He seems the type."

Your heart was fluttering as if it sprouted butterfly wings. Oh, the thought of kissing Eric Sohn in romantic lighting…

"I think you should take her back to her job before she drifts fully into La La Land." When you snapped back to reality, Jacob's eyes were twinkling, eyebrows wagging.

Haknyeon nudged you with the back of his hand and nodded up to the clubhouse. "C'mon, Yn-ie. I think Manager Kim wants to brief us on dinner service anyway."

Hours later, Jacob found himself on the tennis courts, overseeing a match between the three Lee cousins—Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Juyeon—and Eric. He often thought it was luck that got him to land this job where all he did to pass the day was make drinks, drive golf carts, and occasionally play doubles with club members. For all that it was, he considered himself very content.

"—that was a foul," Jacob declared, jogging to go catch the tennis ball before it bounded into the bushes.

Hyunjae let out a groan. "Nooo! It hit the line. Jacob, please, I thought we were cool!"

Sangyeon shook his head, smiling as he caught the tennis ball from Jacob with his free hand. "Hyunjae, we all know your eyesight is shit."

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. "Hey! No one asked."

"Can we take a break?" Juyeon asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I think I need some water."

The boys all murmured their agreement, and Jacob reached down into the mini cooler he'd lugged out to toss them ice cold bottles of water. It was just one of the few perks that came with the club membership.

While Sangyeon and Hyunjae were bickering about eyesight and foul lines, Juyeon settled into a seat by them to referee. Eric sidled up next to Jacob as they both absentmindedly watched the chaos unfold from afar.

Jacob whistled. "So… Yn said she had a really good time with you the other night."

Eric perked up at the sound of your name. "She did? Well that's a relief to hear."

"It wasn't clear?" Jacob asked, face tilted in question. "I mean, not to completely expose her or anything, but she's been gushing about you all day, man."

A giddy smile took over the youngest Sohn's face. "She was?" He licked his lips, drawing the pad of his thumb over the corner of his mouth to catch the water that had dribbled from the bottle. "She's—she's so cute, hyung. Like, I don't know if this is weird for you because you're friends—"

Jacob coughed in amusement. "It's fine. Think of me as your guardian angel."

"Right," Eric piped up. "I think… I think we really hit it off, y'know? And I mean, she probably told you we just kind of had dinner and she had to leave, but she'd come after work, so she was probably tired and—"

Ohhh. Jacob understood exactly what was going on now. His heart warmed at the thought that Eric was being so considerate and not forcing you to stay. He was thinking about your long day, and didn't wish to prolong it anymore. Little did he know, you probably wouldn't have minded hanging around a tad longer.

"—I wanted to kiss her—"

Wait huh. Jacob tuned back in. "When?"

Eric blinked. "Uhm, at dinner. Or at least, when I was walking her out to her car." He glanced away and his smile softened at the thought. "I wish I had, actually. The moment was right there, and the lighting was perfect, and her smile—oh my god, her smile."

Jacob's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. So this was where Eric's mind was at; good to know. "Then do it—kiss her."

"Right now?"

"No! Not right now—"

"Hey, you guys ready to play again?" Juyeon called. The three Lees had already maneuvered themselves back to court.

Eric and Jacob exchanged glances. This conversation wasn't over, Jacob's look seemed to say.

They nodded to their companions, though. "Yeah, we're ready."

It did not come as a surprise to you when you found out Eric had a home theater in his basement. It was something like you'd pictured from the movies, the ones with the rows of dark leather armchairs, deep cup holders, and a giant screen and surround sound system. The foot of the theater room even had a little snack station to make popcorn, and a mini fridge stocked with drinks.

You and Eric shared the couch on the bottom floor that was big enough for the two of you. It was a random Tuesday, and you didn't have work today, so he'd suggested swinging by and hanging out with him for the day. You couldn't possibly refuse.

Eric scrolled through the movie options on the screen with the remote. "Are you sure you don't want any popcorn?" He asked you.

You shook your head. "I'm good, really. But it sounds like you want popcorn, Eric."

He caught his tongue in his smile. "Maybe."

If you weren't supposed to be watching a movie, you would have gladly curled up on that couch and stared at him for the rest of time. His jawline was enough to make a girl go mad, and the fact that he was just so sweet, too—

"How about this one?"

You snapped out of it, barely flicking your gaze back over to the screen in time to avoid him finding out that you were just blatantly staring. "Uhh, sure. I haven't seen this one, actually."

"Really? Oh my god, we have to watch it then." And so you did.

It was about halfway into the movie that you realized there was a draft coming down on you—the air conditioning in this room was awfully high, but you didn't want to say anything. You hiked your legs up onto the couch and hugged your arms, leaning back slightly against the quilt draped over the back of the couch. (How conveniently placed…)

Eric saw your movement from the corner of his eye. "You cold? We can share the blanket."

"My hero," you joked as he removed the quilt from behind your heads and draped it over your laps.

Because the article wasn't exactly miles long, you and Eric had to shift over closer to each other. Not that you were complaining. The arm and leg pressed against yours were warm, and it gave him the perfect opportunity to raise his arm and place it over the back of the couch behind you.

As you both watched the rest of the movie, you gradually let yourself lean into him, and his arm eventually fell to rest directly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

"I always liked the ending of this movie," Eric murmured softly to you as the credits rolled. He brushed his fingers along your arm in a warm, soothing manner. "What'd you think?"

You stayed with your head tucked onto his shoulder. "Hmm, not bad. I think they could have cut the romance though."

"Ah, I see your point," he said. "Sometimes directors just like to force it for the sake of a subplot."

"Wholeheartedly agree."

His fingers danced up to your shoulder and began playing with your hair. He pursed his lips. "Are you a fan of romance movies? That's kind of a random question, I guess."

"Not really—a random question, I mean," you said, and pulled your head off of his shoulder to face him. The thought occurred to you of how close your bodies and your faces were, sharing warmth and skin. You saw his eyes dart down away from yours for a split second. "I like romance movies. I think they restore my faith in humanity," you mused. "You?"

"I like 'em, too." He released a small exhale, an almost-shy smile etching itself onto his face. "Most of them are just… feel-good movies. They're really sweet, and I've always kind of wanted something like that."

"High standards," you whispered, though playfully. "Wouldn't we all like something from the movies?" To you, this was what the movies were like—"handsome guy sweeps girl off her feet, and he's perfect and she's happy." You were already living out your too-good-to-be-true dreams.

He laughed. "True. I think it's just a matter of waiting for the right person to come along, maybe. And following through."

You bit the bait. "Following through?"

"Backing up your initial swing," he clarified. "Something to drive the ball home and make sure you mean it. I feel like maybe that's what people forget about romance—that there's still an after, beyond happily ever after."

Wow. "Your brain," you praised. "That was actual poetry, I think. Is this how you get girls?"

He bit his lip through a smile, leaning closer. "Only one girl. I hope it's working."

"I think it's working a little too well," you admitted, voice barely audible now.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan over your lips as he came closer, about ninety-percent of the way; the other ten percent was left for you to either push forward or pull back. He was giving you the decision on a gold platter.

And who could deny something served so beautifully?

You closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his. It was soft, at first, as the nerves in your brain and your vital organs threatened to go haywire. You breathed him in, your noses slotting against each other. He cupped the back of your head with his free hand, the other curling around your waist.

When you broke apart, it was for a split second, until he was kissing you again. You were half in his lap at this point, your legs draped over his, your side pressed to his chest.

Foreheads pressed together, you shared a breath of air with him. He nuzzled his nose against you as if unable to be so far from you. "Be mine," he said, simple at first. Then, "Please."

You smiled against him and felt his mouth do the same. "Only if you'll be mine, too."

"As if I would say no," he laughed, leaning in again, and crushing his mouth to yours. The theater room filled with both of your giggles as you fell backward.

If this was the happily ever after, then you would gladly follow through.

a/n: to anyone who read flight risk, i just redeemed myself from valentine's day

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet

#kflixnet #bjnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #eric sohn x reader #sohn youngjae x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #eric sohn drabbles #eric sohn oneshots #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn scenarios #eric sohn fluff #the boyz fanfic #dbn: summer on you

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boundless11 · 4 months ago

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I've seen how people love bringing up how Xolo hated/hates Samiguel for proof Sam is a horrible character and how she is to blame for everything in the relationship, and media literacy or recognizing both characters have faults seems real dead

When he said their relationship was toxic, I don’t think he was implying that Sam was the sole cause of the toxicity. It’s possible he meant that Miguel contributed as well, especially since Miguel had major trust issues. That’s one of the recurring themes in Cobra Kai—this communication void that so many characters fall into. It’s easy for people to just jump on Sam and blame her, but honestly, toxicity isn’t one-sided. For example, I thought Miguel and Tory’s relationship was toxic too because she was manipulative and I feel the same way about Tory and Robby. Not so much Robby, but Tory’s manipulative nature and lack of openness make it unfair for Robby to be in that dynamic.

On a more positive note, I remember Billy mentioning that he liked Sam and Miguel as a couple during that ‘Kick It or Keep It’ game. I think he said “keep it,” though I can’t recall the exact reason he gave. I also remember Jacob and Mary saying “keep it” too. At the end of the day, it feels like people are just looking for reasons to hate on Sam, which is really unfair.

#cobra kai #samantha larusso #sam larusso #mary mouser #cobra kai series #miguel diaz #tory nichols #peyton list #robby keene #tanner buchanan #miguel x sam #sam and miguel #ask

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more-sonorous · 3 months ago

Text

rag, boy, rag (can you teach me how to play?)- davey angst

(been thinking about David playing piano at a jatherine wedding pretty much nonstop recently so have a sliver of the long dissertation I wrote about it)

…..

The first time David Jacobs ever wanted to flat-out refuse to play the piano came when he was twenty years old on a lunch break between lectures, sitting on a bench in New York City with Jack Kelly by his side and a pretzel in his hand.

“Hey, listen, Dave– I’m real glad you could find some time to meet me.” Jack said almost seriously, absentmindedly brushing a few strands of his dark hair away from his perfect eyebrows.

“Of course. Though– I don’t see why this couldn’t have waited until Friday, you know it’s Kathy and I’s book club night.” He glanced up at his friend rather admonishingly as he tore a piece of his pretzel off, trying not to focus on how beautiful Jack’s honey-brown eyes looked in the sun.

David had planned to stop doting on this boy quite some time ago, but he’d done a rotten job of kicking his affections down. It seemed that at twenty he was more in love with Jack than he was at seventeen, which was simply no good because he was in love with Jack’s fianceé, too. There was no woman more beautiful than Katherine Pulitzer, and David stood by that belief. He also believed that there was no man more lovely than Jack Kelly, and so he found himself hopelessly head over heels despite his own reservations.

Jack’s easy smile turned almost nervous. “Well, it’s about the wedding, so I sorta wanted it to be just us.”

“Oh.” David felt his own smile slip and falter. He’d been dreading this moment and their intense eye contact instantly became too much. Jack was going to want to talk about his wedding eventually. He and Kath had been planning for weeks and according to Racetrack, they were both knee-deep in it and very excited. It was honestly a miracle neither of them had brought it up yet. Squirming in his skin, David firmly directed his sights on his own scuffed shoes. “Alright, what about the wedding?”

“Well– I want ya’ to be my best man.” Jack said, very simply, and when David didn’t smile or react at all, really, he cleared his throat. “Y’know, since you’re my best friend and all. You’re my best man day-to-day, so why shouldn’t ya’ be in my wedding?”

He swallowed the hard lump in his throat as his traitorous brain slammed him with images of Jack and Kath, happily dolled up in white and black, enjoying the best day of their lives as David wallowed in misery by Jack’s side. Just the thought made him feel a little bit nauseous, and that nausea only grew as he imagined himself having to stand up and give a speech about how happy he was for them. Of course, David was happy for them. He loved them, and they were happy, so how could he not be happy?

He was happy, but he was jealous and lonely and miserable too. There was no earthly way he’d give a speech that did Jack and Katherine justice. In fact, he’d been considering not attending the wedding at all. Finding an excuse. He didn’t need to be in the picture— he was horrible at masking his emotions. He’d just be a sad, morose lump, sucking all of the fun out of the night. They didn’t deserve that. But Jack was looking at him so hopefully and he knew that skipping his best friend’s biggest day was an offense he couldn’t commit.

David dug the toe of his boot into the brick beneath them. “I… I can’t make a speech, Jack.”

“That’s fine!” Jack reassured nearly instantly, grabbing Davey’s pant leg with fervor and leaning in like this was the most important thing he’d ever done. “Seriously, Dave, fine by me. No speech!”

How could he tell Jack no more firmly? He was starting to spiral into panic. “I can’t– I can’t stand up there in front of everyone at the wedding, either. I’m not– I’ll panic, and that’ll ruin your big day.” Now Jack looked positively distraught. This was falling apart fast. David gritted his teeth tightly and awkwardly, painfully took Jack’s hand in his own. “Jackie, I’m still going to be there–”

“But I want ya’ in the wedding, Davey. Not just at it–”

“I– um– I was thinking–” He was blabbering before he could think, some subconscious part of him trying to soothe Jack’s miserable expression. “Well, I was thinking before you asked me about this, that maybe I could just play piano for you? So… so you don’t hafta hire some other musician. And if it’s me, you can tell me all the pieces you want to hear sooner than you could tell a stranger…”

Jack seemed to pause, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hair. “You mean that?”

“Sure.” He steeled in a deep breath and tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes. He did not want to be a part of this wedding at all– he’d been planning to watch the ceremony and escape after a few minutes of the celebration afterwards– but he did owe it to them. They’d been nothing but good to him for years. “Besides, um… I think Crutchie’d murder you if you didn’t give him the best man spot. Or Racer. He’d kill you faster.”

“Pfft, Crutchie and Racer can kiss my happy ass.” Jack rolled his eyes as if to affirm his point, giving David’s hand a heart-wrenching squeeze. Something akin to hope was brightening his face, dimpling his cheeks, and David sort of wanted to disappear. “But… if– if you’re sure ya’ don’t mind playin’ for free, that’d work. Shit, it would really work. And Kath loves your music, Dave. Honestly, she’d be honored to have ya’ play– we’d both be.”

Then Jack squeezed his hands again, and David felt even closer to throwing up than he did before as he managed a stilted, awkward little smile. “You… you don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ll take any excuse I can get to play ragtime.”

“Wait, I thought ya’ meant just the ceremony.” Jack’s brow furrowed. “I want’cha to enjoy the party after.”

“There’s nothing I enjoy more than playing the piano. Especially not parties. I hate parties, you know.” He insisted, carefully, firmly. This was a truth– a universal David Jacobs truth– and playing the piano would be the only way he’d be able to distract himself from the misery of their perfection. “Besides, I know Katherine likes Brahms waltzes, and I’d– well, um, I’d be honored to play during your first dance. So… you’ve got me for the ceremony and the reception.”

“Gee, Dave.” Jack’s smile softened into something heart-wrenchingly personal and David looked away, at the pedestrians on the street and the shouting vendor they’d purchased their lunch from. “That means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well…” He swallowed again. Harder. “Yeah.”

#newsies #david jacobs #davey jacobs #jack kelly #katherine plumber pulitzer #jatherine #javid #the javid is lurking beneath the surface #piano player davey jacobs #livesies #92sies #uksies #sonorouswrites #ohhhh davey how I love you #jathrid #eventually

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thelioncourts · 10 months ago

Note

You may have answered this elsewhere, but what are some of your favorite Jam moments, either in videos or in print? :)

oh, god, there are so many. I'm going to forget all of them, but !

s1 interviews where they talked about texting each other pictures and sam had his photos on live and jacob thought it made him incredibly interesting and they would update each other as they got new fangs in the mail.

their zoom auditions that landed them the roles, the deciding factor really wasn't how they acted as lestat and louis, but how they interacted as themselves with one another.

their date to the vampire boutique to buy vampire things and they bought candles they were supposed to light together but sam, ever the forgetful husband, lit his way before jacob and jacob was Disappointed.

speaking of ever forgetful husband, the reddit q&a where jacob was like 'oh sam is trying to get into the writers room' like the husband that knows everything or when asked about their first scene and sam said one thing, then jacob corrected it, and sam commented back like 'oh yeah jacob is right.'

jacob's teeny tiny teasy pics of sam from sdcc 2022 before any of us knew just how much they were going to ruin us.

"most fulfilling partnership...cREATIVE partnership"

when they got out to the main sdcc 2022 panel and sam was so nervous and jacob gentle started rubbing his back and they looked at each other and sam put a hand on jacob's thigh and AHHH

sticker shop date

l.a. date where they went to universal

walks along the beach in san diego

meeting in the rehearsal room all masked up and whatnot

eric's "the only difference between these two and their characters is that I've never seen these two fight"

jacob saying that sam's hair is really cool when it's put up

sam on ep2 of the iwtv podcast saying that when he met jacob he knew it would be really easy to fall in love with him...

jacob's one interview where he said that the coffin was comfortable when there were two people in it and associating sam's bday with valentine's day

jacob crying as hard as he did during the s1 finale because not only was it the acting, but it was also the acknowledgement that he would be losing this with sam in some way

prague dinner dates every single night........

taking delainey paddleboating in prague

the entire s2 finale reunion and how the mics were cut so they could have that moment, how they didn't really discuss it, how they just know each other as they do and it was them, and it was real

the tv insider jenga game where jacob was like 'what's my favorite snack?' and asking sam and then going 'why am I asking you?' but sam still answered anyway

when they walked up to each other at the s2 premiere for the first time (don't talk to me about it)

the entire s2 premiere, I am not allowed to Speak

the 92ny screening and every teasing little interaction they had on that stage, GOD

the interview where they talked about their dinner in prague and sam chose it as his last meal if he could choose one, even though he didn't like the food that much, but --

how sam said that filming s1ep5 it was so hard to see jacob as he was but jacob tried to alleviate his problems with it and so they have fun videos of jacob spinning and also sam took home his prosthetic eye

the locket bailey made with both sam and jacob's pictures in it and she showed sam and he was like 'oH MY GOD CUTE'

seine river walk, my beloved

clubbing in paris that I'm legally not allowed to talk about

swapping contacts, like who does that, why

sam saying that there's no one he would rather be nude and bleeding with

the paleyfest 2022 interview where bailey was talking about how sweet they are and jacob made the CUTEST face and then was like 'sam. are we best friends?' in the most giggly way and sam was just. so fond, so 'yeah, we're best friends'

in jacob's interview with autumn where she was like 'I tried to get sam to sing when...' and jacob just. fully knowing 'he's not going to do that' in the most deadpan way

the s2 premiere cute interview clips where jacob just goes and lays down and stares at sam (?????)

jacob talking about (during s2) how grateful he was to film with sam and how it felt like home and it was comfortable

the video with delainey where they go through several of the episodes and analyze scenes and they spent way too long giggling about bdsm and just reminiscing

the way any and everyone talks about them, it's so not normal (compliment)

I'm sure there are hundreds more, I'll add to it as I think of things

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luvvpsh · 1 year ago

Text

GOOD 4 U!

03; Bewitched

Your legs bounces up and down as the realization hits you.

You’re not a regretful person. You don’t regret accidentally taking a raccoon home instead of your beloved dog or how you showed a Jacob Elordi edit in front of your English class when you meant to present your presentation on “The Outsiders”.

But fake dating? not your smartest idea…

You have to be crazy for suggesting it. You have to be even crazier to agree to it. But what do you expect from a down bad admirer and a girl who wishes to move on?

The adored cat-like boy sitting across from you, felt his hands get sweaty. He knows you’re here to lay out some ground rules, but this was basically a date in his eyes!

You two sat in awkward silence, unsure on how to start the conversation. “Can’t believe your ex hates my guts… I'm just a silly little guy!” he joked out and you let a giggle slip out.

After that small joke he made, you guys were able to relax and have a smooth conversation. Jungwon even managed to started a debate on how cats were better than dogs.

“You’re literally betraying your own dog right now!” you said through fits of giggles. He was laughing alongside you as he ate the shared cake you guys got.

Soon after you two were full off of sweets and had calmed down, deciding it was best to start the rules as you see the sun setting.

“How should we go about this..?” he began, trying to hide his excitement.

You pondered for a minute before responding, “Rule number one! Don’t fall in love!”

Jungwon's smile falters a little before he proceeds to roll his eyes, “Seriously? Am I not your type?” he teased.

“Maybe if you were Choso..” you seriously considered and he glared at you.

“Of course you’re a Jujutsu Kaisen fan.. it all makes sense now.”

“HEY?!”

You huffed and then continued, “Oh another one! Rule number two, we hold hands and give each cheek kisses to make it believable!”

Jungwon's eyes widened. He only ever imagined giving you small pecks of kisses, he can’t believe his manifestations are coming true right now. You on the other hand can’t believe you really came up with that. Feeling embarrassed, you moved on rather quickly.

“Oh! I got one! Rule number three, only our close friends will know the truth.”

“Do we have to let them in on our plans..” he mumbled.

“Well yea! I suck at lying, I even got a whole medal at home for being the worst liar in school!” which you stated a little too proudly. He should’ve questioned that but he didn’t, instead he gave you a love sick smile and sighed dreamily, “You’re so talented…”

“Rule number four, We go on dates every friday or saturday!”

Jungwon added on, “We should also always go to each events..” and you weighed the pros and cons of that. For a second, you almost forgot that this was your student council president that was going along with everything that you were saying.

He plays such an important role for the school yet here you are dragging him into your little petty revenge plan on your ex without an incentive.

“Jungwon, what do you want to benefit from this? I feel kind of selfish for only thinking about my side of the plan..”

He let out a hum before giving you his famous dimpled smile which has you bewitched. “I want to spend more time with you in all of this.”

There it is again, that funny feeling. Something about Jungwon is making your heart do somersaults and cartwheels. You’re still confused about what's happening and tried to push it aside. You never felt like this with your ex so why now?

You cleared your throat after realizing you were staring at him with a dumbfounded look for a good moment, “O-oh okay! Easy peasy!”

He let out a breathy laugh as you tried acting nonchalant, shifting in your seat feeling your face get hot. “Moving on! For the last rule…hm.” You two started thinking hard, almost felt like your thinking caps were going to explode any second now.

You gasped and gave him a wide smile, “ Rule number five, every Thursday you watch the new Jujutsu Kaisen episode with me.” He gave you a deadpanned look.

“I’m not watching Jujutsu Kaisen with you.”

“Please! None of my friends wants to watch or hear my thoughts and since you’re my soon to be boyfriend you have to tune in to my rant sessions about them!” you rambled on, giving him those expecting wide eyes.

Jungwon was gone. He had officially lost it. Soon to be boyfriend? Yeah, he’s agreeing with everything you're saying from now on.

“I’ll do anything you ask me from now on queen!”

Oh boy… he is down bad.

PREV ✩ MASTERLIST ✩ NEXT

╰┈➤ this feels kind of rushed… i hope you guys enjoyed </3

SYNOPSIS in which you’re DEFINITELY not upset that your ex moved on really easily (spoiler alert: you are!). Yang Jungwon, the student council president is glad your ex moved on because it’s time for him to shoot his shot (just not in the way he wanted.. a win is a win in his book!)

TAGLIST < open > @firstclassjaylee @sincerelyrki @w0nslvr @poollabug @mrchweeee @nanuer @jwonistic @nyfwyeonjun @jiamini

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dwreader · 1 year ago

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Interview with the Vampire Episode 2 Podcast Transcript

Special Guests: Sam Reid and Jewelle Gomez

"Being a vampire is hard, its very difficult to endure and exist forever basically and you need to have quite a lot of strength and internal power to endure and Lestat recognizes that in Louis. When he sees him on the street and thinks that very very very beautiful man just pulled a knife on his brother in the middle of the street to look powerful to save his own skin and he has enough strength to do that and Lestat thinks this guy has enough strength to endure. And he's also got the hots for him really badly..." -Sam Reid

Sam Reid Interview

N: Sam Reid, thank you so much.

S: Thank you for having me.

N: Don't you be nice, I'm coming in here and I'm mad at you. My question is this- how dare you?

S: What are you referring to exactly?

N: Here's what I think of Lestat, I think Lestat is a messy bitch who lives for drama. What did you know about Lestat coming into the audition?

S: I know the books, I've known them for a very long time. I heard they were making it and I said I hoped I would get the chance to an audition for it. The thing that freaked me about the auditon was the majority of it was in French. It had all the lines in English but it said in paranthesis in French. I studied French in school and my sister speaks fluent French but I am not fluent so that was a bit stressful.

N: You and Jacob did your chemistry tests over Zoom, I mean does anyone have chemistry over Zoom? That must've been so tough.

S: Yeah,. I don't know what they were looking for or how to gauge chemistry from that cause it was really glitchy and speaking over each other and trying really hard to act into the camera which just wasn't really working. Jacob is such a lovely person and a fantastic actor and just an easy person to be around so I could tell he was gonna be a very easy person to fall in love with. It was fun, in fact I just came with having ice cream with Jacob. And he says hello

N: Omg I'm obsessed, give me this footage, I want ice cream footage, I want strolling the streets of downtown New Orleans footage.

S: And we hang out all the time, we've become very good friends. Cause it is a crazy journery we're on and its a crazy job so it's nice have a very good friend.

N: So Lestat has a life well before the show starts and he's been on this journey and you have the different versions of Lestat from the book and you have this amalgation. What sort of conversations did you have w/ the showrunner Rolin Jones about your version of Lestat?

S: The premise is for Louis to revisit the interview so Louis has a more nuanced way of describing Lestat so my question was how much of this is the real Lestat and how much of is Louis' version of Lestat? Because obviously this is a memory. This is all through Louis's eyes so is this actually how Lestat is like or is he different? and I think we play with that on and off. What's really important about this season is you're playing a character seen through somebody else's eyes.

N: Right right right, Gordian knot. It's a bit of a layer.

S: And everyone kept telling me stop thinking about it too much don't think about it and I didn't and I don't think about it too much when I'm doing. There will come a day when I think Lestat turns around and goes actually this is how it fucking happend.

N: Okay well Sam, you're just making me so mad cause you're too kind and too funny. cause I was coming in with hard hitting questions and I was livid at Lestat. This is what's so fun about the show and what its doing so right as a genre story, is the humor and the personality. [coffin scene plays] I mean Lestat is out here, it's such a funny monent for Lestat its like OK you wanna own a club? I was like Louis you have unlimited power and you want a club? Dream bigger!

S: I think it goes to show how in love Lestat is with Louis that he's gonna give him these things that mean absolutely nothing in the context of vampire world. But what Lestat doesn't understand is that what Louis needs is that power and is control over his life. There's a lesson for both of them and in this moment, Lestat doesn't understand.

N: Here's another question I have.. I just need you to tell me, where is Lestat's money coming from??

S: He's got investments and he's got bankers and lawyers in France. When he got turned into a vampire, he was given like the most ginormous amount of money like an entire room of treat.

N: You're giving us so much backstory, I didn't even know that.

S: If you think about inflation over the years its just like an obscene obscene amount of money. And if you've lived through the centuries you're able to follow the trends of markets..

N: That's why I would be a vampire or travel through time, like people say they would kill Hitler and yes I would do that too but I would also get some good property, like get some good spaces like I'd go back to like 1899 when its cheap and buy it all up. One Park Ave apartment!

S: Thats why all vampires are pretty damn rich, like Louis in 2022 in Dubai he is really mega rich, he's got Francis Bacons.

N: I didn't even clock it. You also know he's rich cause his penthouse is so cold. Rich people really love stone floors and sharp edges, you know they want you to know if you're poor you could die in here.

S: Exactly, and you're never comfortable..

N: Why do you think Lestat chose Louis cause as a viewer there's a question from moment one - do these men really love each other, are they just entangled, the whole time you're watching.. do I want them to be together?

S: Being a vampire is hard, its very difficult to endure and exist forever basically and you need to have quite a lot of strength and internal power to endure and Lestat recognizes that in Louis. When he sees him on the street and thinks that very very very beautiful man just pulled a knife on his brother in the middle of the street to look powerful to save his own skin and he has enough strength to do that and Lestat thinks this guy has enough strength to endure. And he's also got the hots for him really badly. He tries really hard to be a good normal guy as best as he can and I think when he has dinner with his familiy and he screws up, he does actually feel quite bad that he's made a mess of that cause he was trying really hard to be on his best behavior. Instead he hypnotizes his brother and makes a big scene. He's starts making innuendos and brings up God, which is never a good thing with Lestat. So he does his absolute best to pretend he's drinking wine and eating food.

N: What was it like to go from covid isolation to sex scenes?

S: Um, hmm. The sex scenes were kind of the easier part and we were all in the same bubble together and we were getting tested all the time like daily. It was a funny time cause we had these mad contacts on and they're quite cloudy. Jacob and I really clung to each other a lot of the time cause we couldn't really see, everyone else had masks on and you could only the person just in front of you. So it was this very comedic languid dream like place.

N: Can we talk more about the contacts, the makeup.. I cannot take the nails, the long nails, the cutting everyone.

S: The nails were a real process, originally they were press on / stick on nails and I had so many action I was always grabbing stuff and they were constantly popping off and so they said you should get acryllic. It took me a long long time to get used to acryllic nails and a lot of people would just come up and talk to me, like I would be in a restaurant and someone would just be like hey I love your nails. it was free reign for people to come up and chat so I became a nicer looking person with the nails.

N: It's like nails and hair. You always had short hair right?

S: Yeah it's usually always short. My hair was short when I first arrived in and it grew out over the course of the show, so we extended it with extensions and then it was my own hair. At first Rolin was like you know I think you could have short hair your hair looks good, I was like no no no no.. I think if you're gonna play a character like Lestat you kind of have to have the nails and the hair. And he likes to accentuate things if he's really pissed off he'll flip it all the way back you know.

N: And there are time we are almost getting drag queen level drama from Lestat, he wants you and everyone in a 10 mile radius to know when he's mad.

S: It's drama, he loves drama. I love him very dearly so I don't want to say anything bad about him but he wants to create a bit of drama he'll create a bit of drama. And if he wants to be really seductive in a moment and flip it and be really ugly, he will. He does what he wants whenever he wants and he'll make sure everyone's watching him do it cause he know he looks great doing it. He's a super vain guy but his heart is in the right place I would say.

N: Nope Sam, nope. Okay. Sam. I'm gonna have to push back. I know you played him but I'm saying you're wrong. .. One thing I think Rolin does so well that you and Jacob capture is this is now an interracial relationship, it charges these questions Anne was already asking - what is it to be human, what is power, what are relationships. [incinerator argument scene plays] Do you think that being a vampire being hundreds of years old, that Lestat think of himself as above race?

S: I don't know if he thinks of it like that, I think he definitely acknowledges the prejudices that exist, he acknolwedges it as soon as he meets Louis and I think once you become a vampire, that you can transcend that, thats what Lestat fully misunderstands about Louis' situation. I think he has a lot to learn in that regard.

N: Lestat is kinda like humans are trifles, we don't have time for it. Louis believes humanity is worthwhile and still wants to be apart of it.

S: I think he just doesn't understand yet, I think Louis at this point doesn't understand the enormity of living forever. He's just become a vampire, his family is still around, I think once you see everyone around you grow old die you see wars break outriots break out, you see the ages through the century, you see humanity is in this fucked up cycle that continues on the same hamster wheel. You're this fantastic creature that exists outside of humanity, why do you need to bother engaging with the small little fancies of these human beings. Then Lestat, there's his choice, I'm gonna live it up and have a good time and make a joke about it find it funny. He is very oscillating though so sometimes the joke is at his expense and sometimes the joke is at everyone else's expensve but he is the one who's always laughing. But what I will say is what Lestat feels about humanity is through art, like there is a beautiful pure expression and he really repsects and admires that and love musicians and artists. [opera scene plays] I mean what an amazing gift to read a scene like that I couldn't believe it when I was reading it and then it dawned on me that I would have to play the piano, sing, and speak Italian and kill somebody. Yeah, don't screw it up or you will die. But if you're a good musician in his eyes, he will make sure you're fully appreciated. If you're bad, yes you will die.

N: So the stakes are pretty chill. Either you're good and have a patron for life or you're bad and you die.

[teasing future episodes]

Jewelle Gomez Interview Highlights

N: In this episode, we learn a lot about vampires. I'm wondering how common these are in other vampire stories, like are they things Anne codified or have they been around. First, Lestat saying he had been so lonely, he says there are only about 100 other vampires in the world. What? I thought there were so many more?

J: I think the general idea has been vampires don't create much in the way of community that tehy are individualists in a great sense. No one ever really talks about the numbers but they seem to be very small so I think the tendency is to be inviduals.

N: They said the vampires can't drink the blood of the dead?

J: Yeah, thats a no no. You just don't be doing that. The heart has still got to be beating while you're taking the blood. Cause the blood from a dead person will draw you into death. That's pretty common, everyone knows that.

N: I thought maybe it was a taste issue like its a little sticky its a little coagulated that its not as good. But okay. Another tidbit we get is vampires can't read the minds of someone they've made. So like lestat can't read louis' mind?

J: I dont know if that is a general rule about makers. In general, vampires can read anybody's thoughts based on my extensive research/

N: Vampires live in coffins but do they need to sleep in coffins. I thought that was an old school idea like if you were a modern vampire you'd be like this is my studio apartment.

J: Every novel you read they sleep in coffins, although when I was writing a black lesbian vampire moving into the 20th century having escaped from slavery, she would not be sleeping in no coffin! I was like no no no no no. The big thing about coffin is the security, if you can get in there and lock it. In Dracula he carries his home soil so his coffin is lined with. In my books, I put her on a futon and its pretty uncomfortable but so is a coffin, behind a very thick door and she's good to go.

N: Alright thats the end of our lightning round, okay now Jewelle, what is your relationship with TVC and Anne Rice in general?

J: I read IWTV certainly when it first came out and I had written a single story a vampire story that got published in the Village Voice and then I thought I could write more of these cause people really liked it. Anne Rice's writing made me realize how sensual the vampire story could be and that meant the texture to a lot of my own writing of vampire stories.

N: What is it about vampires for you that you feel like lends itself to exploring queerness and sexuality more so than other monsters?

J: I think vampires have a natural sensuality. I mean the very act of taking blood is skin against skin, touching. The way that vampire interactions are set up is like a seduction in most cases. Bringing someone into vampire life involves an exchange of liquids, the lips touching, parts of the body, its sensual by its very nature. It draws in anyone who is interested in any sensual writing, queer writers allows us to create an outsider figure who's also the hero of the story. For we as queer people, being an outside being at the center our of own story.

N: Certainly this version of IWTV is doing its own thing but very much rooted in Anne's books. Before it was a little implicit, it was coded that Louis and Lestat had something going on. Here it's like this is what its about.

J: I think Louis and Lestat's relationship is core to the story and what moves the story and because its the 21st century we can now look at how two men come together and can find each other. What's really moving about this particular version is when Lestat talks about how lonely he has been for so long and I think he's giving voice to what a lot of queer people feel before they find their queer lover. So its very very moving to be able to experience that loneliness before he's able to find the lover he's been looking for.

N: There's so many ethical questions about being a vampire, like you're a vampire that doesn't wanna kill people. Do you think a vampire has to kill people in order to be really powerful?

J: I don't think so. A vampire has the power to take blood and not kill. To take small amounts from lots of people and not kill. And that's the way I wanted my character to go cause she's creating community, I think the idea that Louis could take blood and not kill, he does finally get to that when we see the interview w/ the older Molloy. I also know that all of us donate blood to the Red Cross we don't die when we give a pint of blood. So I think its possible to donate that amount of blood to a vampire and still live. That made more sense to me, that's how I created my vampires.

N: I love the idea that a vampire would take your blood and give you Orange Juice and cookies. Like here's a couple dried biscuits, take a seat for 10 minutes.

#rewind the tape #vampterview

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richincolor · 8 months ago

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New Releases

All of these books look interesting to me. I don't even know which book I want to add to my TBR reading list first.

Gita Desai Is Not Here to Shut Up by Sonia Patel Penguin/Nancy Paulsen Books

It’s eighteen-year-old Gita Desai’s first year at Stanford University, and it’s a miracle she’s here and not already married off by her traditional Gujarati parents. She’s determined to death-grip her good-girl, model-student rep all the way to medical school, which means no social life or standing out in any way. Should be easy: If there’s one thing she’s learned from her family it’s how to chup-re—to “shut up,” fade into the background.

But when childhood memories of her aunt’s desertion and her then-uncle’s best friend resurface, Gita ditches the books night after night in favor of partying and hooking up with strangers. Still, nothing can stop the nagging voice in her head that’s growing louder and louder, insisting something’s wrong… and the only way she can burst forward is to stop shutting-up about the past.

Click below to read about all of this week's new releases.

Ida, in Love and in Trouble by Veronica Chambers Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Before she became a warrior, Ida B. Wells was an incomparable flirt with a quick wit and a dream of becoming a renowned writer. The first child of newly freed parents who thrived in a community that pulsated with hope and possibility after the Civil War, Ida had a big heart, big ambitions, and even bigger questions: How to be a good big sister when her beloved parents perish in a yellow fever epidemic? How to launch her career as a teacher? How to make and keep friends in a society that seems to have no place for a woman who speaks her own mind? And – always top of mind for Ida – how to find a love that will let her be the woman she dreams of becoming?

Ahead of her time by decades, Ida B. Wells pioneered the field of investigative journalism with her powerful reporting on violence against African Americans. Her name became synonymous with courage and an unflinching demand for racial and gender equality. But there were so many facets to Ida Bell and critically acclaimed writer Veronica Chamber unspools her full and colorful life as Ida comes of age in the rapidly changing South, filled with lavish society dances and parties, swoon-worthy gentleman callers, and a world ripe for the taking.

Till the Last Beat of My Heart by Louangie Bou-Montes HarperCollins

When you grow up in a funeral home, death is just another part of life. But for sixteen-year-old Jaxon Santiago-Noble, it’s also part of his family’s legacy. Most dead bodies in the town of Jacob’s Barrow wind up at Jaxon’s house; his mom is the local mortician, after all. He doesn’t usually pay them much mind, but when Christian Reyes is brought in after a car accident, Jaxon’s world is turned upside down.

There are a lot of things Jaxon wishes he could have said to his once best friend and first crush. When he accidentally resurrects Christian, Jaxon might finally have that chance. But the more he learns about his newfound necromancy, the more he grasps that Christian’s running on borrowed time—and it’s almost out.

As he navigates dark, mysterious magics and family secrets, Jaxon realizes that stepping into an inherited power may also mean opening up old family wounds if he wants to keep the boy he may be falling for alive for good.

The Rez Doctor written by Gitz Crazyboy & illustrated by Veronika Barinova HighWater Press

Young Ryan Fox gets good grades, but he’s not sure what he wants to be when he grows up. It isn’t until he meets a Blackfoot doctor during a school assembly that he starts to dream big.

However, becoming a doctor isn’t easy. University takes Ryan away from his family and the Siksikaitsitapi community, and without their support, he begins to struggle. Faced with more stress than he’s ever experienced, he turns to partying. Distracted from his responsibilities, his grades start to slip. His bills pile up. Getting into med school feels impossible. And now his beloved uncle is in jail. Can Ryan regain his footing to walk the path he saw so clearly as a boy?

Desert Echoes by Abdi Nazemian HarperCollins

From Abdi Nazemian, the award-winning author of Like a Love Story and Only This Beautiful Moment, comes a suspenseful contemporary YA novel about loss and love.

Fifteen-year-old Kam is head over heels for Ash, the boy who swept him off his feet. But his family and best friend, Bodie, are worried. Something seems off about Ash. He also has a habit of disappearing, at times for days. When Ash asks Kam to join him on a trip to Joshua Tree, the two of them walk off into the sunset . . . but only Kam returns.

Two years later, Kam is still left with a hole in his heart and too many unanswered questions. So it feels like fate when a school trip takes him back to Joshua Tree. On the trip, Kam wants to find closure about what happened to Ash but instead finds himself in danger of facing a similar fate. In the desert, Kam must reckon with the truth of his past relationship—and the possibility of opening himself up to love once again.

Desert Echoes is a propulsive, moving story about human resilience and connection.

Between the Pipes Story by Albert McLeod with Elaine Mordoch and Sonya Ballantyne (Contributor) & illustrated by Alice RL HighWater Press

Thirteen-year-old Chase’s life and identity should be simple. He’s the goalie for his hockey team, the Eagles. He’s a friend to Kevin and Jade. He’s Kookum’s youngest grandchild. He’s a boy. He should like girls.

But it’s not that simple. Chase doesn’t like girls the way that the other boys do. It’s scary being so different from his peers. Scarier still is the feeling that his teammates can tell who he is—and that they hate him for it. If he pretends hard enough, maybe he can hide the truth.

Real strength and change can’t come from a place of shame. Chase’s dreams are troubled by visions of a bear spirit, and the more he tries to hide, the more everything falls apart. With the help of an Elder, and a Two-Spirit mentor, can Chase find the strength to be proud of who he is?

“Between the Pipes” explores toxic masculinity in hockey through the experiences of an Indigenous teen.

They Thought They Buried Us by NoNieqa Ramos Carolrhoda Lab

Horror fan and aspiring film director Yuiza gets a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

As one of the few students of color at Our Lady of Perpetual Mercy, Yuiza immediately feels out of place. A brutal work-study schedule makes it impossible to keep up with the actual classes. Every expense, from textbooks to laundry, puts Yuiza into debt. And the behavior of students and faculty is… unsettling.

Yuiza starts having disturbing dreams about the school’s past and discovers clues about the fate of other scholarship students. It’ll take all Yuiza’s knowledge of the horror genre to escape from Our Lady’s grasp.

How to Lose a Best Friend by Jordan K. Casomar MTV Books

For as long as anyone can remember, Zeke Ladoja and Imogen Parker have been best friends. Their classmates, their parents, and even the school custodian think that they’re meant to be together. And that’s exactly what Zeke wants: for Gen to be his girlfriend. Now that she’s about to be sixteen (and allowed to date), Zeke is finally going to tell her how he feels—in front of everyone at her birthday party.

Imogen loves Zeke with all her heart, but only as a friend. The pressure to be with Zeke has sometimes been overwhelming, but up to this point, she’s been able to manage it. Then she falls for the new boy, Trevor Cook, and she knows the news will devastate Zeke. The last thing she wants to do is hurt her best friend, but she also resents the fact that no one seems to care about what she wants.

The night of Gen’s party, everything goes wrong. There’s backlash, most of it directed at Gen, and Zeke feels emboldened. He isn’t about to give up on his feelings, and he’ll do whatever it takes to prove that she made the wrong choice…even if it means destroying their friendship. But Gen isn’t about to give up on fighting for herself and the freedom to love the boy she wants, not the boy she’s expected to be with.

#new releases #weneeddiversebooks #young adult books

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scrawdragon · 7 months ago

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So, if anyone had happened to pay attention to my blog description or the stuff that I reblog, you’d know that I am very queer and also very Christian. One of my favorite things to do is to tell Bible stories, and I decided— why the hell not, I’ll post ‘em on here! I decided to come to you all today with the story of Joseph, son of Jacob, who was sold by his own brothers into slavery. Very terrible of them. I’m well aware. It happened kinda like this:

Jacob was this old guy in the old testament. He had four wives— Rachel, Bilhah, Leah, and Zilpah— and eleven kids. And out of all of them, wifey Rachel and his sonny Joseph where his favorites. Rachel, his favorite wife, because that was who he WANTED to marry (the others were added onto the list after a whole buncha mess that would take a long time to get into); and Joseph, the son bore by the wife he really loved. Jacob favored Joseph so much that Joseph’s brothers were jealous of him and hated the very grounds Joseph walked on. Jacob even made Joseph a coat- a coat of many colors, as the bible says. It set him apart from his brothers, and it was hated by his siblings.

Joseph was blessed with a talent of being able to interpret dreams. I guess it made up for whatever he lacked in common sense. For example, once he went to his brothers and told him about a dream he had.

“Hey, guys, I had a weird dream last night,” he said, although it wasn’t very odd to him. He knew what it meant. “We were all out gathering sheaves of grain out in the field, and all the sudden, my sheaf jerked outta my hands and rose upright, and your sheaves all jerked outta your hands, too, and bowed around mine! Isn’t that… Weird?” He gulped, because all the sudden, his brothers looked like they wanted to absolutely murder him.

“You sayin’ that one day, you’re gonna rule over us?” They growled, because they absolutely wanted to murder him. Joseph had enough sense to keep his trap shut at that and shuffled off.

A while later, Jacob sent Joseph to go get his brothers and bring them home, because they were out in the field, doing farmerly things. They saw Joseph coming in the distance, and they all decided that they were sick of him and his stupid coat, so they plotted to kill him.

“Here comes the dreamer,” one of them said, mockingly. “Let’s just kill him and throw him into one of the dry wells. No one would know about it, and we can just say an animal killed him and ruin that stupid jacket as proof, easy peasy.”

Reuben, the eldest, turned a little pale. See, he hated Joseph himself, but he didn’t want to kill the guy. “Um… How ‘bout we, uh, not kill him? Just throwing that out there.” He said, nervously. “Lets just take the jacket and throw him into the well. Leave him there. Lets not get his blood on our hands.” Well, really, Reuben didn’t want Joseph’s blood on HIS hands. He intended on going back to the well and saving Joseph and leading him back.

A bit later, Joseph approached them.

“Hey, guys!” Joseph said, brightly, as the bloodthirsty figures of his brothers loomed over him. “Dad wants you guys back home, how much longer d’ya think you’ll be- ACK!”

The “ack” being the sound of Joseph’s brothers grabbing him, yanking off his coat, and tossing him into the well. For funnies, imagine that little cartoon sound effect that’s used when a character falls off a cliff.

They left Joseph there, who was pretty much screaming, begging, pleading, and crying for his brothers to let him out, and went to go eat a meal— excluding Reuben, who was out biding some time before he went to save Joseph. As they were eating, they caught sight of some Ishmaelites passing through.

“Hey, here’s a thought,” Judah said, his voice thick with food, “How ‘bout we sell him? That way, his blood ain’t on our hands, we’re a couple pieces of silver richer, AND we get rid of him. I mean, he is our own brother. Might as well show a little mercy and sell him into slavery.”

His brothers grunted in agreement, and when they finished, they went back to the well.

“You came back!” Joseph hiccuped, a bruised, tear-stained and dirty mess, relief settled in his eyes. “I prayed you would! You can have the jacket, if you don’t like it- Huh?”

And then they sold Joseph for twenty pieces of silver.

When Reuben found Joseph wasn’t there, he freaked out. “What am I gonna do now? This is gonna kill Dad!” He stressed, but his brothers had already taken the coat and smeared it with animals blood. When they presented it to Jacob, he thought that Joseph was killed by some animals, and he tore his clothes and went deep into mourning. When his children and many wives tried to comfort him, he refused it. He said that he’d never stop mourning his son until he was dead right along with him.

Meanwhile, the Ishmaelites went and sold Jacob away to Egypt for slavery. To Potiphar, to be exact, who was one of the officials for the Pharaoh.

You can read the story for yourself in Genesis, Chapter 37: verses 1 through 36 in the Bible! :D

#christian faith #christianity #christian #bible story #jesus christ #bible #scripture

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amelia-friend · 2 years ago

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one and one (and one and one)

Jack/Davey, and Katherine/Sarah (they just have a couple of things to figure out first.) You can also read it on AO3: here.

5,300 words, very fluffy.

Summary:

Jack is dating Katherine, her family only just finally okay with him. Barely.

Unfortunately, Jack has just realised he doesn’t love Katherine (like that. anymore.). Jack loves Davey. However, this is okay because Katherine has just realised she doesn’t love Jack (like that. anymore). Katherine loves Sarah. All four of them are fully aware of these facts. Eventually.

Double unfortunately – those loves are illegal. Jack’s convinced there’s an easy solution here. He and Katherine will get married and live in one apartment. Sarah and Davey get married and live in the apartment next door and then just *hidden door* between them so they can all live happily ever after (or as close to it as they can get) with the person they actually want to and no one will be any the wiser.

Triple unfortunately, Davey and Sarah are siblings and that’s even more illegal when it comes to getting married. They’re all idiots but they’ll figure something out. Eventually.

There was an easy grin settling on Jack’s face as he hoisted his papers onto his shoulder. Not that there wasn’t an easy grin on his face most days, but today was Sunday.

Sundays are one edition days. One edition days means long lazy afternoons with the whole world to explore.

And one edition days mean Katherine.

The months since the strike had been difficult for them – Jack hadn’t been kidding when he said girls like her don’t fall for guys like him – and everybody she knew was doing their best to remind her (remind both of them) of that fact. Jack knew how they looked at him – as a threat to their reputation, an obstacle in need of elimination.

Katherine didn’t care though, and if Katherine didn’t care, neither did Jack. They had faced prejudice and scorn, they had faced judgement from almost every corner and still they held strong.

If that wasn’t love, Jack didn’t know what love was.

There was however, just one crack in the façade of his perfect dream.

(Jack’s a liar)

(There are lots of cracks)

(Jack just ignores most of them)

There was however, just one crack in the façade of his perfect dream.

A crack with a high buttoned shirt, freshly polished shoes, and a brain fit to bursting with all that learning now that he’s back in school full time.

A crack that went by the name of Davey.

Jack hadn’t noticed it as first, the turmoil that stirred and twisted in his chest whenever Davey was around. Davey had been new at first, new people always stir up different feelings, and then there’d been the strike and that had to be to blame for whatever was making it hard to breath, and then …

And then Davey went back to school. They’d had a few perfect weeks of endless summer after the strike, when the world seemed to pause and days take a lifetime.

But now Davey was back in school and completely absent from his life Monday to Friday.

(Davey and Les sold the evening paper at least twice a week after school, and Davey would do his homework at the lodging house on at least one more day a week as well)

And Saturdays are exclusively for family.

(Jack has been invited to the Jacobs’ every Saturday since the strike ended, and accepts at least half the time)

Which means that Sunday is the only day of the week that Jack gets to see Davey.

(Which means Sunday is the only day of the week that Jack gets Davey to himself for multiple consecutive uninterrupted hours. Usually. Sometimes they do that on Wednesdays as well)

So Sundays are the special day of the week because Sundays are all about Davey Katherine.

And so, Sunday lunchtime came around, with Jack standing at a crossroad.

He had Davey at his right hand, steadfast Davey, kind and clever Davey who would do anything for anyone, especially if their name was Jack Kelly.

But his future was Katherine. He knew his future was Katherine. His future had to be Katherine, what other choice did he have?

This was a figurative metaphor, but with Davey by his side, as they waited for an appropriate moment to cross the street without dying in the process, and Katherine over the road holding the oversized picnic basket he hadn’t known she was bringing but sincerely hoped she would be – he could see how it could be taken as a literal statement as well.

Sunday picnics were a long standing tradition, stretching back at least three weeks if not longer.

It was just the four of them – Jack and Katherine, Davey and Davey’s sister Sarah. If Jack’s honest, he doesn’t know Sarah very well, but she’s sweet, and her and Davey alternate between love and utter disgust for each other with an alarming regularity that is extremely hilarious to watch, even if not to be caught up in. Plus Sarah and Katherine had recently developed a close friendship, and Jack knew how much friendship means to them. Katherine’s friendship with Sarah. Jack’s friendship with Davey. The Jacobs just make the best friends possible.

A warm breeze danced through the park, carrying with it the distant hum of the city. The autumn sun bathed the grassy expanse in a golden glow that betrayed the fact that soon winter would be here, and their picnics no longer.

Jack stretched out, half-propped up by a large tree, while they sat in their usual square – Davey and Katherine next to him, Sarah diagonal from him. Somehow it’s just how they always end up sat.

Laughter and conversation flowed freely between the four friends, and the lemonade followed suit, while they continued to unpack sandwiches and fruit, and a small tray of dainty little cakes.

Sometimes the food Katherine brings along sets off that heavy feeling in his chest, the one that remembers being fifteen or twelve or nine, with empty pockets and empty hands and an empty stomach, and a line of kids out the door that needed feeding as well.

Katherine knows this.

Katherine does her best to counter with the fact that it’s her father’s money she’s using to create their weekly picnics, and is their anything else that would annoy her father more?

Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.

The food’s always tasty though – once it gets past the pit.

With nowhere to be and nowhere to go and no one wondering where they are, or even caring, they stay put. The sun drifts slowly across the sky, and the four fall into a companionable silence.

Katherine – ever the intrepid reporter – is making notes in her book, ideas to turn into full fledged stories (once she’s back at her typewriter of course). Sarah has some needlework to finish – Jack sees the name Davey, and Les, and Sarah so this must be a personal piece not work but it looks incredibly intricate. He’s not sure he’d pick lying down with his head in Katherine’s lap as the most comfortable position to complete embroidery in, but also, he’s never done embroidery, and Sarah is definitely the expert here. If lying down with your head in Katherine’s lap is the best position to sew, he absolutely believes her. (He’s laid down with his head in Katherine’s lap before, it is a very comfortable position if nothing else).

Davey has his books, because of course he does, thick tomes about things that Jack claim do nothing but confuse him, but Jack lets Davey tell him all about them anyway. Davey’s head is resting against Jack’s shoulder as he reads, his eyes slowly scanning the page. And Jack himself has his sketchbook, because Jack is nothing if not predictable. He sketches quick pencil sketches of his friends, of the wildlife, of the scenery.

There’s a study or two of Katherine – the curls in her hair, the corner of her mouth.

There’s a study or six of Davey – his hands curled around the edges of a book, the exact shape and colour of his eyes, the dusting of freckles across his nose you can only see if you stand extremely close and look.

He doesn’t have any studies of Sarah. He should probably remedy that at some point before she thinks he doesn’t like her (he does. Just not like he likes Davey Katherine).

After the picnic as the sun began to dip behind the horizon, Jack and Katherine walked back to her father’s house, hand in hand. Katherine leaned her head on Jack's shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

"I had a wonderful time today, Jack," she said, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Jack's grip on her hand tightened, but still he managed a soft smile. "Me too, Katherine."

Katherine returning home was always a moment of genuine amusement for Jack, as not one single member of the Pulitzer household from the lowliest maid to Mr Joseph Pulitzer himself made any attempt to disguise their displeasure at seeing him. They had at least moved away from actively ushering Katherine away from him, and bare-faced comments about his appearance, upbringing and parentage to his face.

Which was progress.

They were starting to like him.

Which was a good thing.

Now they made comments about his appearance, upbringing and parentage behind his back like the well-bred people they are, and only sneered in his face when they saw him walking up the street with Katherine.

Everything’s fine.

A brief kiss – initiated by Katherine (much to the very audible displeasure of which ever butler had deigned to open the door for them) – later, and Jack was on his way once more.

Jack’s thoughts were a muddle.

Jack’s thoughts were often a muddle.

But they were even more of a muddle than usual. And needed time and space and just a little bit of quiet in order to sort through them.

He loved his brothers, loved their life – but he wasn’t going to find a single one of those things if he went back home just now.

He ends up at the tenement building without really thinking about it, his feet doing the work more than his brain. He’s halfway up the fire escape and ready to knock on Davey’s window when he remembers that they have technically (literally) spent fourteen hours together already today, and maybe Davey actually wants to spend time with his family for a change.

Jack takes himself to the roof instead.

It’s quiet up there. Peaceful. The comforter from the last time he and Davey spent hours talking on the rooftop instead of sleeping is still in it’s place in the corner, ready in case the temperature drops any further.

There’s a door creaking open behind him, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know exactly who it is. Davey steps onto the roof, his eyes searching Jack for any sign of something being wrong. “Hey, you okay?”

Jack’s heart almost skips a beat at the look of concern on Davey’s face but brushes it off, avoiding the question entirely. “What are you doing up here?”

Davey settled down next to Jack, their shoulders almost touching but not quite, a hair-width of space between them. “I saw a shadow climbing the fire escape past my bedroom,” Davey’s eyebrow twitched as he spoke, the corners of his lips fighting a grin, “and I wondered who could be foolish enough to be climbing the fire escape at night.” Davey sighed, and the grin escaped, settling firmly onto his face. “There was, of course, only one answer.”

Jack rolls his eyes, a response in and of itself, and shoves him gently with his shoulder.

“You never actually answered my question by the way,” Davey reminds him, and it’s Jack’s turn to sigh.

He shrugs, “Just … thinking.”

“About what?”

Jack hesitated a moment, his heart pounding in his chest so hard he’s sure Davey is able to hear it. “About everything.”

Davey leaned further into Jack, the simple touch sending a bolt of electricity down his spine. Jack stole a glance at Davey, the moonlight casting gentle shadows on his features as he stared out into the distance.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, their eyes met. It was only a moment that passed between them, their gazes locking in a way that spoke volumes with no words required. Jack felt the world around them fade into the background.

Jack leaned in.

There wasn’t a conscious thought behind it.

Jack leaned in.

His lips brushed against Davey's, a tentative touch that sent shivers down his spine. For an instant, time seemed to stand still as their connection deepened, as everything suddenly made absolute perfect sense, the taste of possibility lingering in the air, the taste of Davey lingering on his lips.

Davey's response was immediate, his lips pressing back against Jack's with a mixture of longing and surrender. It was soft and achingly tender, in a way neither had ever experienced before, a silent confession of the emotions that had been swirling between them for far too long. Jack's heart soared, and he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in Davey's hair as they embraced the intimacy they had denied themselves for so long.

Davey pulled away.

Just as quickly as it began, it was over.

Davey’s breath was ragged, his eyes wide with a mix of desire and conflict. He met Jack's gaze, his voice filled with both desperation and resolve. "Jack, we can't do this."

"Why not?" Jack's voice was a mixture of confusion and longing, his heart pounding in his chest.

Davey's gaze dropped to the ground, his fingers clenching in his lap. "Katherine, society in general, the law... Pick one, pick any of them."

Jack leaned in closer, his voice soft but determined. "Davey, all that stuff, it's out there, yeah. But right here, right now, it's just us." He reached out, his hand gently lifting Davey's chin. "I know what I want, and I think you want it too. We don't have to let all that other crap get in the way."

Davey's eyes met Jack's, a mix of uncertainty and longing in their depths. After a beat, he tried to speak, his words fading into uncertainty. "Jack, I … "

There was a beat of silence, and Davey could see the careful bubble of hope Jack tried to keep hidden behind his eyes slowly deflate in front of him.

Davey closed the gap between them this time.

He placed his hand on Jack's cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the rough stubble. The kiss their lips met in, was at once gentle and passionate, a silent affirmation of the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. Davey's lips were soft against Jack's, his movements sure and deliberate. It was as if he had finally given in to the desire that had been building between them, his touch a declaration of the love he had kept hidden for far too long. Jack's heart pounded in his chest as he felt Davey take control, his senses overwhelmed by the taste and scent of the person he had yearned for. The kiss deepened, their mouths moving in sync as the world around them seemed to blur into insignificance. Jack's fingers found themselves returning to the back of Davey's neck, his touch gentle yet possessive, pulling him closer. Davey responded with a soft moan, a sound that sent a jolt of electricity down Jack's spine.

As they continued to kiss, a sense of urgency and longing crept into their movements. Davey's hand slid from Jack's cheek to tangle in his hair, deepening their connection. Their breaths mingled, each exhale a reminder of the shared passion that had ignited between them.

The world slipped away.

Of course, it wasn’t actually as simple as that.

Katherine, society in general, and the law.

It couldn’t be as simple as that.

*+*+*+*+*+*+

It didn’t take long for things to come to a head. It had been days of conflicting emotions, nights of sleepless nights. It was desperation he felt when he was away from Davey, and the guilt he felt when he remembered Katherine. It weighed him down with every forced smile, every feigned laugh.

He tried to continue as he was able to before.

He tried to continue his role as the devoted boyfriend that Katherine deserved. She had many so many sacrifices for him, for them, how could he just abandon her now? He had made promises to her, promises he had truly intended to honour, but things just ended up inverted somehow.

He tried to continue with Davey as well. But how were stolen glances supposed to cope when weighed against the memory of just how Davey’s lips felt against his, the way his fingers carded through his hair. Jack loved his boisterous and over-enthusiastic family, but they didn’t exactly leave much opportunity for hidden moments.

And Jack wanted, he wanted, he wanted.

It’s Thursday before Jack and Davey get the privacy they’ve so desperately been craving. Davey’s selling the evening paper, out of desire not necessity, but Les hadn’t been feeling well, choosing instead to head straight home – leaving Davey and Jack as a two-person team.

They do actually manage to sell the vast majority of their papers, before they somehow manage to find themselves down a little-used alleyway, the cold brick pressing almost uncomfortably into Jack’s back, and he nearly laughs at the thought of Davey that first day they met next to the Davey he knows now. The laugh turns to a moan, as Davey’s lips discover a particularly sensitive spot on his neck that Jack didn’t even know he had, and there wasn’t room for much thinking after that.

*+*+*+*+*+*+

It's Saturday, and Jack’s on the roof of Davey’s building once again. His hair is a mess, and his lips are swollen, and he’s not actually sure where his shirt even is at this point, but he doesn’t even care.

It’s perfect and it’s theirs and it’s…

A door opens.

Panic surges through each of them equally, as they realise the compromising position they have gotten into – instantly releasing their grip on the other, as they freeze behind the brick half wall that protects them from whoever is on the other side.

There’s silence.

(Not true silence, but the lack of voices, the lack of talking at any rate).

They stay frozen.

The not-really silence continues.

There’s definitely someone (multiple someones(?)) there.

They stay frozen.

The not-really silence continues.

Jack’s bored now.

He starts to poke his head over the wall, swatting away Davey’s hands trying to keep him hidden.

And that made sense he figured, as he saw the young couple, their arms wrapped around each other. He supposed him and Davey couldn’t be the only young couple who needed a private moment away from prying eyes, and judging by the long skirts on both halves of the couple, they needed the privacy for very much the same reason. A half-laugh escaping his lips, he’s about to disappear to wait them out, and continue his own very pleasurable time, when the two women spin, their arms still wrapped around each other.

That didn’t stop Jack from suddenly catching sight of her face though, and he reacts instinctually.

“Katherine?” He’s confused more than anything else, but now he’s standing. His voice isn’t loud but the night is quiet and it travels easily regardless.

The pair freeze in an instant. Unwrapping their arms mechanically from the other.

“Jack?!”

Her eyes flick from him down to his chest and back up to his face, and that’s the moment he realises he’s still not quite sure where his shirt is, but it’s too late to disappear behind the half wall again.

They don’t move.

They don’t speak.

They don’t breath.

Katherine takes a small half step forward, her arm half-raised in front of Sarah – an unconscious effort to protect her. “"Jack, I-I can explain. It's not what it looks like. We were just... um...”

Sarah’s wide eyed at this point, her gaze flicking from Jack to Katherine and back again, nodding along with the desperate words Katherine’s spilling.

“Kather…”

“No Jack, I can expl…” Katherine interrupts him, but Jack doesn’t let her finish.

Instead he leans down and grab Davey by the collar (why was he still wearing his shirt when Jack’s has completely vanished. Was definitely not the main thought running through Jack’s brain at that instant), pulling him to standing as well.

Before anyone could react to the new addition to the scene, Jack's fingers gently lifted Davey's chin, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to Davey's in a soft, lingering kiss. The gesture was deliberate, a silent message that conveyed understanding, acceptance, and the shared bond they all had. Katherine's eyes widened as she watched the exchange, the realization dawning on her that Jack knew more than she had thought.

Davey’s eyes open as Jack pulls away and for the first time, he sees the two figures he had previously only heard.

“Sarah?!”

“Davey?”

“Is anyone going to say anything useful besides names?”

The answer, as it turns out, would be an emphatic no.

*+*+*+*+*+*+

Jack has good ideas. Jack has lots of good ideas.

He’s been an authority to most of the Newsies of Lower Manhatten in some way or another since he was fifteen. He started the strike, and faced down one of the most terrifying gentlemen in New York (“Sorry Katherine.” “Don’t be. Imagine growing up with him.” “I really don’t want to.”) at the age of seventeen.

Jack also has absolutely terrible ideas.

“… so yeah – what do you think?”

Jack looks almost pleased with himself. Davey, Sarah and Katherine look at him as though he’s sprouted a third head.

“Well, uh…”

“… I suppose it has potential?”

“Potential – yes!”

Sarah rolls her eyes at Davey and Katherine.

“It’s a terrible idea Jack.”

Jack’s eye flick over to Davey and Katherine, but neither of them can bring themselves to find fault in Sarah’s words.

“I mean, not for you and Katherine,” she continued, “but what are me and Davey supposed to do?”

“Didn’t you hear me?" Jack replied with a grin, trying to inject some optimism into the situation. “You’ll live next door, and we’ll just pretend to live like normal couples, then secretly swap over so we can really live with the person we want to.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow skeptically. “And … how do we explain why me and Davey are living together?”

Jack's face fell, his enthusiasm dampened by the practicality of the question. He trailed off, realizing the flaw in his plan. “You can just get married …” he trails off. “oh yeah.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Sarah repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure our parents are going to be so thrilled when me and my *brother* announce our wedding plans. I’m sure that won’t be suspicious to anyone at all.”

Davey couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. He nudged Sarah playfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him, a playful warning that he was treading on thin ice. Davey swallowed. He’d pay for that one later, he’s sure.

Jack cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Alright, alright. Maybe the marriage thing is a bit much. But we'll figure something out. We always do."

Sarah crossed her arms, a pout forming on her lips. "Well, I'm not marrying you, Jack Kelly."

Katherine, who had been relatively quiet during the exchange so far, finally spoke up. "Well, you might not have a choice."

All eyes turned to Katherine, her words hanging in the air. Jack furrowed his brows, confusion evident on his face. "What d’ya mean?"

Katherine took a deep breath, her gaze steady as she met Jack's eyes. "I mean, to avoid Sarah and Davey getting married, which is obviously not a feasible option, I… I could marry Davey instead."

Davey's eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks flushing as he processed Katherine's suggestion. He opened his mouth to speak, but Katherine continued before he could find his words.

"Which would mean, Sarah, that you'd have to marry Jack."

Sarah's jaw dropped, her eyes widening as she processed the implications of Katherine's plan. "Wait, what? Marry Jack?"

Katherine nodded, her expression determined. "Yes. Unless you’d rather marry your brother."

Jack couldn't help himself. He let out a surprised bark of laughter. "Ha! You're saying that I'd have to marry Sarah? That's rich!"

Sarah's eyes narrowed, a fire igniting in her gaze. "Oh, you think this is funny, huh?"

Jack held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin unapologetic. "I mean, come on, Sarah. Can you imagine us, married?"

Davey stifled a chuckle, his lips quirking into a smile as he watched the playful banter between Jack and Sarah. It was a relief to see the tension ease, even if it was through their usual teasing.

Katherine shook her head, her lips twitching in a smile. "Well, stranger things have happened. And let's not forget, we're talking about an unconventional situation here."

As the group shared a chuckle, the weight around them seemed to lighten just a bit. Jack's eyes met Davey's, and he couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for the man standing beside him. Whatever challenges they faced, they would face them together.

"Alright, Katherine," Jack said with a grin, "you've got yourself a deal."

Sarah rolled her eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "As long as no one here thinks I’m marrying you willingly, Jack Kelly."

Jack winked at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. We all know who’s the Jacobs for me."

As they shared a laugh, the rooftop seemed to transform once again, becoming a sanctuary of shared secrets, laughter, and a bond that could weather any storm. Jack's heart was light as he looked at Davey, a playful glint in his eyes. Without hesitation, he tugged Davey into his lap, their lips meeting in a sweet and affectionate kiss. Davey's fingers tangled in Jack's hair as he deepened the kiss, their connection sparking with a warmth that had nothing to do with the chilly night air. It was a simple yet powerful gesture, a declaration of their feelings and an affirmation of the unspoken promise that they were in this together, no matter the challenges.

Sarah rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan, a mock expression of disgust on her face as she watched the two boys. "Ugh, get a room, you two. Seriously."

Jack and Davey pulled apart, chuckling at Sarah's playful reaction. "You're just jealous, Sarah," Jack retorted with a wink.

Sarah's feigned disgust quickly melted into a mischievous grin. "Oh, please. Like I would ever be jealous of you two."

Katherine glanced at Sarah, her lips twitching into a knowing smile. "Careful, Sarah. You might start to believe your own act."

Without missing a beat, Sarah closed the gap between her and Katherine, her fingers gently brushing a strand of hair behind Katherine's ear. Her voice was low, laden with teasing. "Oh, don't worry, Kat. I've got my own plans."

And with that, Sarah's lips met Katherine's in a kiss that was every bit as passionate as the ones they had witnessed earlier. The rooftop was now alive with a playful energy, each touch and shared glance a testament to the unbreakable bonds that had formed between them.

Jack wrapped his arm around Davey's waist, pulling him close as they watched Sarah and Katherine share their own moment of affection. Davey rested his head on Jack's shoulder, a contented smile on his lips.

Change was coming.

Terrifying and life changing changes.

But they had each other, and who needed anything more.

*+*+*+*+*+*+

The plan worked better than it had any right of doing.

Katherine’s family was as thrilled as they’d let themselves show when they realised she had cut romantic ties with the newsie they considered so far belong her. (They weren’t so pleased about her plan to remain friends with Jack, but figured that they could distract her from that plan by marrying her off to a far more eligible bachelor.)

(Katherine was really looking forward to announcing her upcoming engagement to Davey.)

The newsies are ready to declare war on Katherine on Jack’s behalf when they find out, until Jack and Katherine together manage to talk them down.

Race slipped into the seat next to Jack one evening at meal time, their shoulders close enough to touch.

“So, you and Davey, huh?” His voice was entirely too casual, a glint of knowing in his eyes.

Jack kept his eyes on his plate, not pausing from his meal for a moment.

“So, you and Albert, huh?”

Race choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering as he tried to compose himself. Jack patted his back gently, a smug grin on his face.

The courtships went even better. Sarah and Davey’s parents couldn’t be more pleased with the partners their children had chosen, and even Les was happy for them (if very confused at the speed Jack and Katherine both had decided they wanted to marry his siblings)

Only Katherine and Davey were there when Katherine announced their courtship to her family, but both spent the next two weeks describing the interaction in incredible detail to anyone who would listen – her mother’s scream and fainting spell getting increasingly elaborate with each retelling.

*+*+*+*+*+*+

It’s a year, almost exactly to the day, since the start of the strike, since the start of everything being set into motion, and the air of New York buzzes with excitement once more.

The morning of the Wedding of the Century dawns bright and clear.

(Jack is fully aware they are only seven months into the century, but he’s entirely certain that there won’t be a wedding in the next ninety nine years and five months to rival theirs).

Underneath a brightly decorated tent, the gathered crowd of newsies, friends, and family members watched with beaming smiles as Sarah and Katherine, radiant in their white gowns, walked down the aisle, hand-in-hand their steps guided by the melodies of the city's street musicians. Beside them, Jack and Davey, dashing in their suits, stood as the grooms, their eyes doing their best not to get fixated on each other instead of the person they were technically (literally) marrying.

The ceremony was a heartfelt affair, filled with laughter, tears, and heartfelt vows that spoke of love, commitment, and the unbreakable bond that had brought them all together.

And then they were married.

The joyous celebration continued long into the night.

Amidst the dancing, singing, and laughter, the four newlyweds stole moments of intimacy with their true partner amidst the whirlwind of festivities. Sarah and Katherine shared knowing glances when they thought they wouldn’t be spotted, and when the time was right, they slipped away from the revelry, finding a quiet corner where they could swear their own vows to each other in private.

Meanwhile, Jack and Davey found a secluded spot of their own, far away from prying eyes. Their fingers interlocked, their gazes locked in a wordless exchange that spoke volumes. Despite the roles they had played in the day's events, they knew that the true nature of their hearts was unwavering.

"I love you," Jack whispered, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions.

Davey's lips curved into a tender smile, his thumb brushing against Jack's knuckles. "And I love you, Jack."

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, a union of hearts that defied everything.

In that stolen moment, they reaffirmed the bond that had grown between them, a bond that no piece of paper or societal expectation could take away from them.

*+*+*+*+*+*+

Davey held the last of his belongings in his arms, having already moved most of his things to their brand new apartment only that morning, and took one final look around the apartment that held such strong memories of his family.

Soon he’d have such strong feelings about his new home, he was sure.

With rent being what it is, and jobs being what they are, and age being what it is – the dream of two apartments with a hidden door between will come to them soon, but they’re on their way with a simple two-bedroom apartment nearly exactly halfway between the newsies and Davey’s home (or rather – just his parents and Les’ home now).

And why wouldn’t the four of the share an apartment.

There was nothing to be afraid of.

The future lay at their feet, and they would conquer it.

Davey's mother fell silent, her gaze fixed on her eldest son as he bid his final farewell to the place he had called home for so long. Emotions swelled within her, a mixture of pride, nostalgia, and a touch of apprehension for what lay ahead for both of her children. With a deep breath, Davey turned away from the apartment door and began to descend the stairs. Each step felt weighted with the significance of the moment, a transition from one chapter of his life to the next.

As he reached the landing, his mother's voice broke the silence, the words carrying a mixture of playfulness and longing.

"So, about grandchildren…?"

#javey #javey newsies #newsbians #newsies fanfic #newsies fic #newsies fanfiction #newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #sarah jacobs #my fic #send help i can't stop writing newsies fic #or else send prompts

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