#nora's first lines are SO GOOD
Note
Wait a sequel to the drunk reader partying fic drabble thing where abbys trying to get you to drink water and you're refusing and arguing with her in your drunk state insisting you're fine LMAOOO (you're not)
party girl
pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader
description: the cheer team won nationals, and they’re ready to party. only problem is, there’s a team-only pregame, which means abby can’t keep track of how much her girlfriend has to drink.
warnings: alcohol consumption, reader is VERY drunk in this, some creepy men (ew always), making out, femme reader, cursing, i was sorta rlly high when i wrote this sorry excuse any badness
words: 1.2K
date posted: 06/04/24
more college!abby
it's quite rare for abby to go to a party without her girlfriend. in fact, abby typically only goes as a formality, but she likes when her girl makes an effort to come with her. unfortunately for her, the cheer team decided that they would be having a squad-only pregame, which meant that abby would be wrapped into driving her drunk friends around before (and probably after) the party. at least she was getting a pretty steady stream of snaps from her girl throughout the night, but as soon as she starts getting the ones from nora, she gets worried.
they're all videos of y/n shotgunning, funneling, and demolishing lines of shots in record time. normally, she wasn't very possessive over her girlfriend, but she knew from their very early relationship that y/n could not handle her liquor, so she knew she was in for quite the treat when she got there.
but she could not have imagined what she was about to see the moment she walked into the crowded house. it took her a moment to truly realise what kind of spectacle could have caused every frat guy in a mile radius to flock together so wildly, until she realised that her girlfriend was swaying to the music atop the kitchen table, her skirt hiked up over the meat of her thighs and she didn't even seem to be aware of it.
abby quickly pushed her way through the crowd of boys, roughly shoving one of the ones at the front who had been attempting to angle his phone to get a proper up-skirt shot. y/n's eyes popped open at the sound of her name, an excited grin appearing on her face as she all but leaped off of the table and into her arms (thank god for all those muscles).
she laughed as her girlfriend practically wrapped herself around her, pressing sloppy kisses against the side of her face.
"heyyyy baby," y/n smiled drunkenly up at her, "i've been waiting for you."
"seems like it," abby laughed, "you having fun?"
"more now that you're here," she leaned up to kiss her, and abby almost gagged at the taste of every alcohol she could name on her tongue. "we won today."
"i know, i was there. you were so so so good, beautiful."
"mhm," y/n smiled, "i love winning. i feel like such a winner right now."
abby was the first person to understand the feeling, it was the exact same rush of confidence she felt in her own veins after her own games. she had been excited to take to the stands this time around, watching and cheering for her girlfriend in the same way that she had always done for her.
"you are a winner, baby."
she fluttered her eyelashes at her, "and i can't wait for you to give me my reward later."
"reward?" abby asked, feigning innocence.
"oh please, i know you could tell what i was wearing under here," she pursed her lips, fingers tugging at her dark red bra strap, "if you aren't gonna give me my reward, i guess i'll have to take it for myself."
abby shook in head in disbelief, "you're gonna have to sober up some if that's what you were wanting."
y/n leaned in to tug abby's reddening earlobe between her teeth, "no matter how sober i get, i'll still be drunk on you baby."
"oh, that one was bad," abby tilted her head back as she laughed, one hand coming down to grasp at her girlfriend's lower back, "you're cheesy when you're drunk."
"what, are you lactose in tolerant all the sudden? maybe i'll have to find someone who likes my cheese."
abby gripped her hips, "okay, okay, i'm sorry. you know i love your cheese."
"i know," y/n grinned, "you can make it up to me by dancing with me."
abby nodded, "that i can do."
she allowed her girlfriend to lead her into the crowd of sweaty bodies, easily pressing herself into her back and holding her hips as she moved her hips into hers. she was happy enough to just sway side to side, let her girl do all of the heavy work as she ground her ass into her groin with one arm slung back and around abby's neck, holding on for dear life as the blonde began pressing kisses along the side of her throat.
y/n's body tipped to the side the a hard push, both of their attentions being turned to the tall brunette who scowled down at y/n with a mean stare.
"watch it, bitch."
abby doesn't even remember moving, just taking hold of the front of the girl's shirt in her fist, pulling her close and breathing her own warning into her face. y/n watched in amusement as the brunette shrunk at the threat and moved as quickly through the crowd as possible. y/n laughed with glee, hugging her girlfriend tightly.
"you are so so so sexy when you get protective over me."
abby took her by the hand, pushing her ahead and guiding her by her hips to the kitchen, where they were quickly recruited to join nora and manny in a game of beer pong. abby reassured her girlfriend by promising to grab her a new drink (it was just a coke), and snickering behind her hand at how oblivious her girlfriend was to her scheming. once the cup was empty, abby changed her tactic to offering her girlfriend shot after shot of water under the guise of vodka, laughing to herself when her girlfriend commented on how drunk she must be if it wasn't burning her throat so badly.
after winning the game, y/n decided that it was time to sneak away with her girlfriend to the bathroom, where she made quick work of her top as she made a rather sloppy seduction attempt. abby had to use every ounce of her self control to push her hands away as y/n tried to unbuckle her belt.
"c'mon baby," abby groaned as she felt her hot tongue drag across her collar bone, the first few buttons of her shirt having been undone the moment that the door had been shut behind her, "cut that out."
"what? you don't want me?" she whined.
"i do, believe me i do," she groaned, taking her hands in her own and forcing her to look at her, "but not here, and not while you're this drunk."
y/n groaned, "sometimes i hate how good of a person you are."
abby chuckled and kissed her on the cheek, "i know, i know, me too. now let's get some water into you because i do plan on giving you that reward tonight."
#reader insert#x reader#imagines#lesbian#abby anderson#abby anderson imagine#abby anderson x reader#abby tlou#abby anderson x you#college!abby anderson
248 notes
·
View notes
Text
I am getting kind of annoyed both at takes I see at rwde as well as anon who spammed my posts few weeks ago. Basically, they argue that on top of being awful character, Jaune also completely ruins his literary allusion, Joan of Arc.
Of course, you are free to like or dislike Jaune, however, when people claim they hate Jaune because he is a coward, I get really confused. Jaune is not a coward, he is pretty brave, to the point of it being kind of flaw since he has low regard for his own safety. If he was a coward, he wouldn't have went with Ruby, Nora and Ren to Haven, he wouldn't have challenged Cinder to the fight, he wouldn't have tried to infiltrate Salem's base to save Oscar, etc. They are pretty on the nose with it in Volume 8 when Ren states Jaune feels no fear.
However, meat of my gripes is with people not understanding Joan of Arc and how to translate her character to the story.
No, Jaune not being giga chad isekai self insert protagonist level of strong is not an issue or insult to his primary literary allusion, it's the opposite. I don't know do people get their Joan of Arc knowledge from Fate Grand Order, but Joan herself wasn't skilled fighter. She was never properly trained and never directly fought someone. In pretty much every major battle she fought she was wounded or knocked out (hit by an arrow at Orleans, knocked out by a rock at Jargeau, hit by an arrow at Paris, knocked off from her horse at Compiegne). In fact her knowledge of sword fighting was so lacking she accidentally broke her treasured sword when she struck a prostitute with its side. There is no good reason for Jaune to be some kind of prodigy when he is based on a character that never properly fought anyone.
No, Jaune relying on his team to solve problems doesn't make him pussy and isn't unlike Joan. Once again, Joan of Arc wasn't front line fighter, she was moral support to the army. Her greatest triumph, siege of Orleans, was just her directing armies where to go whenever she got a vision. And Jaune's Semblance makes sense for someone based on Joan of Arc. It is essentially morale boost Semblance considering boosting an Aura buffs both your health, defense and offensive abilities. It matches what Joan did for her comrades. Jaune relying on his team to accomplish things is not a bug, it's a feature.
No, Jaune failing doesn't make him an insult to Joan of Arc. Joan of Arc herself wasn't perfect and suffered handful of failures herself. After her victory at Orleans, she won at Jargeau, but then lost the siege at Paris. After that she was stalemated in Perrinet Gressart campaign, won a battle at Lagny and was then captured at Compiegne. After failed siege of Paris, and especially after stalemate against Perrinet Gressart, Court started doubting her abilities. It is simply different order of wins and losses with Joan peaking in her first battle while Jaune was completely useless during the Fall of Beacon but has upward trajectory after that.
Jaune's Joan of Arc is the one without any special abilities but with the same aspirations. He wants to be the hero and save the world, but he wasn't blessed with divine power that gives him unnatural charisma and allows him to see future events. People's gripes and suggestions how to "fix him" usually boil down to turning Jaune into generic power fantasy protagonist. Which is not only boring and misses the point of the character, it also misses the point of Joan of Arc. If Jaune was some kind of prodigy kicking ass since Volume 1, he wouldn't have been Joan, he would have been Roland, Arthur, Lancelot or whatever famous legendary knight you can find.
244 notes
·
View notes
Note
write something abt gamer!Abby pls!!
Headcannons: gamer!abby anderson x reader
live footage of Abby, after dying in Valorant:
☆ Gamer Abby who worked two jobs at one point to be able to afford all the new games and set up.
☆ Gamer Abby who spent over 3000 dollars just to upgrade her pc.
☆ Gamer Abby who had everything in room because she wants to feel close to her games.
☆ Gamer Abby who felt embarrassed when you came over for the first time.
☆ Gamer Abby who apologizes for all the posters and stacks of games that littered her room.
“Why are you saying sorry?” you asked her, confused as you sat on her bed.
“This isn’t very sexy” she comments looking down at the floor.
“It is” you shrugged "everything you do is sexy Abs"
☆ Gamer Abby who memorizes all the lore to different games, and she tells you all about it, even though it sounds like gibberish to you.
“Wait what?”
“baby focus” Abby said with an annoyed tone.
“So Ellie is Joel’s daughter?”
“Oh my god don’t you listen?” Abby says dramatically.
“She isn’t his biological daughter babe”
“oh.. so who’s Sarah then?”
All Abby could do was sigh.
☆ Gamer Abby who spends hours playing, but pauses her game when you send her a text.
☆ Gamer Abby who face times you while she’s playing, because she just wants to be with you.
☆ Gamer Abby who feels self-conscious when you are in her room when she plays.
☆ Gamer Abby who gets teased by her friends when they are all on a call.
“why are you so quiet Anderson?” she heard Mel ask through the headphones.
“Her girl is there, she doesn’t wanna scare her away” Nora says witch a chuckle.
☆ Gamer Abby who always feels like she talks too much about games, but falls in love with you all over again when you say: “its ok Abby, tell me about it”
☆ Gamer Abby who moves her gaming set up and posters into another room when you move in.
You walked into the room, the room that was once so colorful with games, was now empty. Naked.
“What the fuck Anderson?”
“I moved it all”
“yeah no shit… why would you do that?”
“this is our space now and I thought you know- we could… I don’t know decorate it together?”
☆ Gamer Abby who is wayyyyyy to good with her fingers, and she gets all shy when you mention something about it.
“What are you looking at?” Abby asked without taking her eyes off the screen you hummed before you simply answered “you”
You watched as Abby shook her head with a chuckle.
“I now see why you’re so good with your hands, these games are definitely teaching you something” you said with a wink and Abby almost pissed herself.
☆ Gamer Abby who uses cheesy game related pickup lines
“You must be as good as Yoshi with that tongue of yours”
“Did you just cast aeroga on me? Because you swept me off my feet”
“You don't have to turn on a game to play with me”
“Nice pants! Mind if I loot them?”
You never got the references but it always made you blush.
☆ Gamer Abby who almost cried when you gave her plushies from the games she was obsessed with at the time.
☆ Gamer Abby who tries teaching you how to play.
“C’mon baby it’s not that hard”
“Abby I keep dying”
“you’re dying because you aren’t focusing”
“Abby I don’t want to play anymore”
“please baby, for me?”
☆ Gamer Abby who almost combusts when you understood one of her references.
“What did you just say?”
“you said just look for the light that’s a the last of us reference, isn’t it?”
“Marry me”
☆ Gamer Abby who finds out you’ve been practicing her favorite games, and you learned the lore to surprise her.
☆ Gamer Abby who wakes you up at 3am because she was yelling at Nora for making her lose.
☆ Gamer Abby who begs you to play with her because she thinks it’s hot.
☆ Gamer Abby who was scared of being herself before she met you.
☆ Gamer Abby who wants to dress up as Mario and princess peach for Halloween.
☆ Gamer Abby who knew that you were the perfect girl when you let her decorate your shared room with a few posters.
☆ Gamer Abby who is really happy, being with you.
☆ Gamer Abby who could see the two of you getting old together. And she hoped when you were 73 one day, that you’d still be playing together
#anon ask#abby tlou#abby anderson#abby anderson angst#abby anderson drabble#abby anderson fanfic#abby anderson fanfiction#abby anderson fic#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson headcanons#abby anderson imagine#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x f!reader#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby the last of us#abby tlou2#abby x fem!reader#abby x reader#abby x y/n#abby x you#tlou abby#tlou art
499 notes
·
View notes
Text
Another 6 Little Faces Alex Makes That I Love - Part 3
(not ranked in any order)
No. 1:
This fucking fond smile he gets after Henry says he would be a writer living in Paris if he were anonymous. Like, boy you are so whipped, it's not even funny. He's probably thinking something like, "that's so Henry of him to say" and it's adorable.
No. 2:
This is the face of a little shit who knows damn well what he's done and is delighting in seeing how Henry is going to manage to play it off. He's got that fake innocent/confused face, like, "oh gosh, is everything alright Henry?"
Then he just grins when he manages to save it, like the fucking little shit that he is. That face says, "I just squeezed the ass of the Prince of Wales directly in front of the Prime Minister of the UK and the President of the United States, made him fumble like an idiot, turned him on, and I got away with it."
No. 3:
He's in the background, so he's a little hard to see, but he's got this genuine soft smile on his face like he truly finds it sweet of Henry to sing and point at him. Like, he's not even laughing; Nora has that funny fake shock on her face, but Alex is just actually happy that he's the one Henry's pointing at.
No. 4:
The way he's watching Henry so closely, and you can see his jaw flex when he moves. You can tell how careful he's being, how determined he is to do this right. It feels like he's not even worried about his own pleasure right now because he cares so much more about making sure he doesn't hurt Henry, and that he feels good.
No. 5:
The way he shakes his head and swallows before he speaks because Henry's voice in the previous line was so desperate and pleading. He begs him so softly and brokenly not to make him send him away, and it makes Alex choke up for a second because he can hear Henry's pain, and he loves him so much. He can't walk away. He can't give up.
He knows that he makes Henry happy (thanks campfire scene), and that's all he wants to do. He refuses to let Henry go back to his prison of armor while there's something he can do about it. Henry has to tell him to leave, because he cannot and will not be the reason for that pain. Alex is not going to give him the excuse or opportunity to put the armor back on because he left.
It has to come directly from Henry, because he will do anything for him, even if it means leaving, if that's what he wants. If Henry tells him to, then fine, he'll do it, because he won't disrespect or directly ignore his wishes.
Alex's first words are to ask for permission to talk to him. There's a big difference between "Can we please talk?" and "We need to talk!". One is a demand, while the other is a request, one that Henry can refuse.
And at this point, Henry hasn't actually told him to leave yet. He said Alex could say what he needed to say, and then leave, but he has not outright told him to. Alex, despite how much it would kill him, is telling Henry that he will walk away if that's what he wants, and it's painful and terrifying for him to say, but he'll do it for him.
That was longer than I thought it would be.
No. 6:
The little bashful smile he has when talking about Henry kissing him. He's too uncertain to directly say, "Yes, I liked it" in response to Nora's question, so he says it in a round about way of saying he didn't not enjoy it. It gives the impression that he's trying to "stay cool" about the whole thing even though you can tell he's not saying everything. He's trying to downplay it because he's actually losing his mind over it, but doesn't want to admit it.
Alright, there's part 3! I'll see if there's enough for a part 4, but I'm running out of what I would consider "little" faces lol
part 1 | part 2
#red white and royal blue#rwrb#rwrb movie#rwrb thoughts#taylor zakhar perez#alex claremont diaz#firstprince
497 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thinking too much about AFTG again and I know we rag on Neil for being oblivious but I don’t think Andrew understands for most of the story that Neil likes him back
(FYI I haven’t read all the extra content, Nora may have said something about Andrew’s mindset that contradicts this, I don’t care it’s my literary analysis and I control my interpretation and the only canon that exists is what’s in the books. Also I’m Jewish, and the number one rule is anything can be true so long as you can back it up textually)
You’ve got the whole “I’m not your answer and you sure as fuck aren’t mine” line. By this point two things have happened recently: Neil has become outwardly more emotionally and physically vulnerable, and Neil has shown more interest in spending time with Andrew as well as interest in Andrew in general. And Andrew’s response to this seems to be the assumption that Neil is having a crisis he isn’t sharing and seems to have decided that Andrew is the answer to fixing that crisis. To be fair he is having a crisis, Andrew is just an unrelated benefit.
Which makes sense, most of his relationships are based, at least in Andrew’s mind, on him providing a service in exchange for someone’s presence in his life due to his belief that people will not be around him otherwise. So if Neil is looking at him in an open, appreciative, and interested way he seems to assume it’s because Neil, the terrified guy on the run from something, has found himself enjoying the stability Andrew provides and is seeing being near Andrew as a solution to his problems. That maybe Neil has tricked himself into thinking he has feelings for Andrew because he likes having someone take care of him and that’s the reason, and we see from Andrew stopping the kiss when Neil is upset that he does not consider being interested in someone while emotionally vulnerable to be real consent, therefore if Neil is interested in him due to being upset and afraid that is not Neil actually being interested. He also is clearly very agitated by this first kiss, seeming to see himself as a predator who lost control and harmed Neil by taking advantage of him.
He also continues to do nice things for Neil after getting back, despite initially seeming to express frustration, disinterest, and distaste for Neil. Giving him keys to the car, buying him a new charger, giving Neil the shotgun seat. Andrew’s habit of feeling the need to incentivize the people he cares for to stay with him, as well as what appears to naturally be his love language of giving gifts and acts of service as a replacement for verbally sharing emotions. I’m not saying that when he’s doing nice things it’s for personal gain, but I think part of him feels good doing it and part of him believes this is all he has to offer this person. He got back and didn’t say nice things to Neil because he can’t, but he can quietly take care of Neil in a way that says “please stay with me, I want you to be ok” that he verbally can’t. He knows Neil values the ability to leave upsetting situations, that Neil reacted positively the last time Andrew gave him keys, gives Neil a way to charge his phone ie have a lifeline to safety and Andrew when needed, and he’s saying that he still implicitly trusts Neil with things that are important to him. And of course shotgun means “I want you to be the person who is nearest to me”. He similarly starts making a habit of sitting next to Neil when the team is together. Andrew very much is a cat, he’s going to swat at you but also glue himself to your side
There’s also the various moments where Andrew states out loud that he has an attraction and growing emotional attachment to Neil that he has already written off as impossible. He calls Neil a pipe dream, says he knows nothing will come of having an interest in Neil without having made any attempts to see if Neil is interested. If you follow up a confession of interest with a statement that nothing will happen, you can’t be hurt by rejection because you didn’t give the person a chance to reject you.
And it doesn’t seem like it’s because Andrew is purposely avoiding attachments to people. Most of the effort he puts into his life is in his relationships, specifically into giving people reasons to stay near him. He makes the deals with Kevin and Aaron, he could have gone to a school with a more competitive Exy program but went to one where Nicky and Aaron could come and be on the team and in fact made that a requirement, he proves to Kevin that he made the right choice in making Andrew his shield by attacking anyone who hurts Kevin and putting a target on his own back. Before the start of the books we know he went out of his way to connect with Renee and do things for her that meant a lot to her, things that again seem to represent “I am doing her a favor, therefore she will be more likely to stay.” And anything else could be written off as born again Christian charity rather than acknowledge she has love and care for him.
He doesn’t see an attempt at connecting with Neil to be useless because he has no interest in building relationships with people, if there’s anything Andrew is passionate about it’s building and maintaining relationships with people. He sees it as obviously useless because there’s no way Neil would legitimately want to be with Andrew in the same way that Andrew wants him, that it is impossible to consider Neil reciprocating the way he’s feeling because all he wants is Neil himself and he doesn’t think anyone could just want him and think it’s enough.
Neil says he allowed himself to be abused by the Raven’s for two weeks on the chance he could help Andrew, that he wants to care for Andrew even without any personal benefit, and that is when Andrew calls him a pipe dream. Neil has just said that he, the guy who previously was so terrified for his own safety that he put it above all else, would willingly sacrifice his safety for Andrew. When Neil says this Andrew covers his mouth to make him stop talking, which to me suggests that this revelation was an absolute gut punch to him, that what happened to Neil was not only for his sake but accomplished nothing. Andrew’s reaction to Neil saying this is to say that Neil was supposed to be a side effect of the drugs. Meaning what Neil just said made him feel so strongly for Neil that he previously assumed it could not possibly be something he naturally has the capacity to feel.
(And he stills says that he doesn’t think he could ever have from Neil what he wants. So yeah Neil isn’t the only one who can hear a heartfelt confession and come to the conclusion that the other person is completely uninterested)
Also the whole “there is no this” conversation they loop through a few times. Again, Andrew loves building relationships, but they all are ticking clocks in his head, most of them graduation unless he can come up with something to convince them to stay. And then Neil keeps trying to say that there exists a relationship between them that has not been carefully negotiated with a clear end date, which is probably terrifying to a guy who doesn’t think he can trust anyone unless he is providing them something that makes him more useful around than not.
What Neil is proposing is that Andrew has intrinsic value and his presence is all Neil wants, and that probably seems terrifying and untrue. If Neil isn’t getting a tangible benefit that outweighs any perceived inconveniences, and if there is no point where they “re-up” their contract, then at any moment Neil could change his mind and take this thing away from Andrew. He’s had people he loved decide he’s not worth it, he knows it can happen and how terrible it is to experience. He willingly dealt with Drake and harmed himself to keep Cass, and he still lost her because he in and of himself wasn’t enough to be kept and loved because he wasn’t easy enough to love, he was broken, he was damaged. There can’t be a non transactional relationship between them because Andrew can’t see himself being enough and thinks losing it would be too painful to willingly risk
(Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron also seem to have this same view as Neil in their own way of Andrew’s inherent worth to them. Nicky really deserves more recognition for clawing his way to happiness then willingly giving it all up and upending his life and doing things repeatedly that make him unhappy because he cares so much for Aaron and Andrew, aligning himself against possible friends who could make him happy because he will always choose supporting Andrew over himself. And you have Aaron showing that he will fight Andrew tooth and nail if it means they can have a good and lasting relationship, and we see Kevin form genuine love and affection for Andrew outside of their deal, but again Andrew seems to view the relationships at the time as transactional or obligatory on their ends)
Or my favorite, the scene where Andrew makes a comment about Neil’s “neck fetish.” Neil has kissed his neck only about two times by that point, and both times it has elicited what is clearly a pleasurable response from Andrew. But Andrew can’t accept the idea that Neil is doing something with no benefit to himself and only a benefit to Andrew, that he is choosing to take time away from his own immediate pleasure to do something solely for Andrew’s enjoyment of the moment
Neil responds to the comment by saying “You like it, I like that you like it.” Neil is saying that he cares enough about Andrew to have paid attention to what pleases him and wants to take the time when they’re together to make Andrew feel good in a way that Andrew makes him feel good, that he knows Andrew has trauma with physical touch on most of his body but this is a way he can reciprocate that has no negative connotations for Andrew and serves solely to make him feel good. And Andrew does not or cannot let himself see it that way because it’s too vulnerable.
The sex is supposed to be transactional, this is what Andrew has to offer to make Neil stay with him, uninterrupted time of Andrew making him feel good and asking for nothing in return. Neil is breaking the rules, he’s making it reciprocated, if he is making Andrew feel good then Andrew doesn’t have that safety net of being the one with something to offer. So it has to be something that secretly benefits Neil, it has to be that Neil is getting something out of it or Andrew is back to not having anything special that he offers to make Neil stay with him. If it’s just Neil sitting back while Andrew gets him off then Andrew is automatically the most convenient sexual partner for Neil and he won’t look for someone else. If it’s reciprocal, then it stops being a favor Andrew is doing and takes effort on Neil’s end, as well as means the sex includes Andrew knowing what it’s like to be loved and cared for, which means he will feel it’s absence when Neil inevitably leaves because Andrew isn’t convenient enough.
It honestly seems like the turning point is his conversation with Aaron about breaking their deal, Aaron making him choose their deal or Neil. Because it A. Forces Andrew to see that Aaron intends to stay in his life without the deal, meaning that yes one of the most important people in Andrew’s world loves him without a contract. And B. It forces Andrew into a position where he has to take a leap of faith that Neil isn’t going to just walk away, that Neil sees Andrew the way Andrew sees him. And I wonder if Aaron brought up the conversation he had with Neil, that Neil said he didn’t think Andrew would fight for him, and he realized that Neil not only has been thinking about him the way he was thinking about Neil, but that he had this person in his life that he cared about and he was acting in a way that made that person not feel valued and it could probably cause the very thing he wants to avoid by pushing him away.
So you finally get the very end of the last book where Andrew doesn’t deny it when Neil says Andrew likes him, which is for him incredibly vulnerable. He’s shown that he will always protect Neil without their deal of protection, and Neil has shown that he sees everything about Andrew that other people don’t like and he loves Andrew anyway.
Because the story is from Neil’s point of view we see his internal growth as he learns to recognize and accept love and care from others but Andrew has been doing the same, realizing and trusting that Kevin and his family will still be there even if he has nothing tangible to offer, and accepting that someone could genuinely know and understand him, all the things that make him inconvenient, and still want him with no extra incentive because even as broken as he sees himself to be he still has value to others and he can trust Neil in the way he wants Neil to trust him
#long post#this got so much longer than I intended oh my god#this was supposed to be like 3 paragraphs max#I have a lot of thoughts about Andrew desperately wanting love without thinking he can have it#even though he has people who love him#aftg#all for the game#tfc#andrew minyard#neil josten#andreil
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jaune Arc Is A Creep
Cardin: Ha! You stupid nerd! (Shoves Jaune) Reading books and shit!
Jaune: Laugh while you still can! You're the stronger one now, but some day, I'm going to grow up, and I'm going to teach myself how to make chloroform and knock you all out! Then I'll drag you into my basement and chain you to the walls! The first thing you'll see when you wake up is me, standing over you as your new god!
Jaune: AND THEN I'LL MAKE YOU WORSHIP ME IN WAYS NO GOD HAS BEFORE.
Cardin: ...
Ruby: (Bandaging him) And then what happened?
Jaune: (Sniffles) They beat me up and took my books~!
----------------------------------
Ruby: Fuck you guys! I'm going back out there and kicking their asses!
Jaune: No, Ruby! Vengeance protocol dictates that we should lay low after an attack and conserve our resources!
Ruby: Fuck the rules! They insulted us!
Jaune: Ruby, as a guy who gets his ass kicked so much he could be a professional, listen to me. The only thing we can do for now is survive!
Ruby: Oh, so I should just cower like you, should I? LIKE A LITTLE BITCH?!
Yang: (Pops Ruby in the head) As far as I can see, you're the only one acting like a little bitch here, Ruby. Now listen to what Jaune has to say.
Jaune: Thanks for sticking up for me, Yang!
Yang: Shut the hell up, Jaune! And you, Ruby Rose, open your mouth.
Ruby: Wha- (Bread shoved in, Gagging)
Jaune: Oh! Oh... Oh, wow... That's... That's kinda hot, Yang.
Yang: Eat, Ruby. Eat and build your strength.
Ruby: (Crying)
Jaune: Keep crying, Ruby. It'll make the bread taste like tears.
----------------------------------
Pyrrha: Jaune, I know this is tough, but... Is there a higher power you worship?
Jaune: I used to worship Monty Oum.
Pyrrha: Who's Monty Oum?
Jaune: THE GOD OF DEATH.
----------------------------------
Goodwitch: You there! Who the fuck are you?!
Jaune: Jaune Arc, sir!
Goodwitch: Why the fuck are you here, trainee?
Jaune: To become a huntsman, sir!
Goodwitch: That's bullshit! Look at you! I bet you play with dolls!
Jaune: Well, yes, but only for roleplay revenge fantasies, sir!
Goodwitch: Shut up, Banana-Slut!
----------------------------------
Blake: You can do it, Weiss. Just focus on your core when using the tether.
Jaune: Yeah, it's not too hard if you concentrate.
Weiss: Even you can do this, Arc? I know I'll regret asking this, but what's your secret?
Jaune: I, uh.... I kinda have a natural advantage with this skill.
Weiss: What do you mean?
Jaune: I, uh... I used to experiment a lot with auto-erotic asphyxiation.
Weiss: ...Just take me up the tether.
----------------------------------
Jaune: Oh! I also like to read!
Blake: Oh, really?
Jaune: Yup! For example, did you know that if you electrocute someone underwater, it'll leave no burn marks?
Blake: ...
----------------------------------
Jaune: So... I gave it a lot of thought, and I decided. I'm going to serve on the front lines.
Nora: What?! Why?! Jaune, seriously, you suck at everything you do!
Jaune: I know.
Nora: With your tactical brilliance, you could easily land a spot as an officer away from the battlefield!
Jaune: I know.
Nora: So why the hell are you coming to the front lines with us?!
Jaune: ...
Jaune: I WANT TO SEE DEATH.
----------------------------------
Ren: We're finally here, Jaune. We finally made it as huntsmen. Do you have any regrets?
Jaune: No. It was either this or med school.
Ren: I... wasn't aware you wanted to be a doctor. What was going to be your specialty?
Jaune: (Wide grin) EUTHANASIA.
----------------------------------
Coco: I'm open to suggestions.
Nora: Let's give all of our weapons to Ruby and have her use them to build a giant rifle-toting, sword-swinging mecha.
Coco: What is this, a fucking anime? No!
Blake: We could always give up and run away.
Coco: No!
Ruby: Let's play Arrowfell!
Coco: NO, GOD DAMMIT! NO! Does anyone have any good ideas?!
Ren: Jaune has one.
Coco: ...Dear god. Alright. How bad is it?
Jaune: This is an old revenge fantasy I used to reenact with dolls.
Yatsuhashi: Holy shit, this guy is fucked.
Jaune: In my most elaborate schemes, I'd pretend the dolls could see me before stabbing their eyes out and burning them alive.
Fox: ...Jaune, has anyone ever told you that you have an unhealthy obsession with ocular trauma?
Jaune: It's like closing the windows to the souls!
Cardin: You know, if we shoot out the Grimm eyes, we could finish them off without losing anyone.
Pyrrha: Jaune, you are the creepiest fucking guy I've ever met, but hey, that's not a bad plan.
----------------------------------
Nora: Jaune, can I ask you something?
Jaune: Sure!
Nora: This is going to sound stupid, but... Let's say I, hypothetically, have romantic feelings for a fake brother-
Jaune: You mean Ren?
Nora: Yeah, whatever. But let's say I acted on those feelings. Would it... Would it be wrong?
Jaune: Nora, why are you asking me about socially moral protocol?
Nora: Because you're the only one I can trust to not tell anyone. And even if you did, everyone would just assume you're being a creep again and I could deny everything.
Jaune: Wow, Nora. That's cold, dark, and manipulative genius.
Nora: I'm sorry, I just really need to know.
Jaune: I've never seen you in this light before.
Nora: Is it wrong?
Jaune: Hey, can I have a lock of your hair?
Nora: Answer my question, Jaune!
Jaune: Alright, alright! Look, the way I see it, I don't see anything wrong with your feelings, Nora. He wasn't really your family anyways, so even if you did incest-bang, it would've been fine.
Nora: It's not incest!
Jaune: I know, I know! I just prefer to think of it that way!
Nora: ...
Jaune: Bitch, don't even give me that look. You already KNEW what you were getting into asking me for advice!
----------------------------------
Marrow: General, wait!
Ironwood: God dammit, Wags, not now!
Marrow: General, Huntsman Ren and Pine along with Huntress Valkyrie are invaluable soldiers, and thus are completely expendable. But you should know that Huntsman Arc is said to be one of the most fucked up people on Remnant!
Jaune: (Thinking) No! They found my secret!.
Ironwood: Oh, really?
Jaune: Act normal- (Meow) NO, MISTER WHISKERS! NOT NOW!.
Ironwood: And just how fucked up are we talking?
Jaune: (Twitching hard) GET YOUR LITTLE CLAWS OUT OF MY EYES~!.
Marrow: Fucked up enough, some say, to rival even you, General.
Ironwood: ...To rival me, you say?
Ironwood: JAUNE ARC!
Jaune: MEOW!
Ironwood: Is what they say true?! Are you truly a fucked up little shit?!
Jaune: Well, I think I'm perfectly normal, but I may have a few desires and tendencies some may classify as... off?
Ironwood: ...Okay, Huntsman Arc. We're going to play a little game, and if you lose, the survival of both yourself and your friends over there, too!
Jaune: Sir, this is a horrendous abuse of authority-!
Ironwood: SILENCE!
Ironwood: Jaune Arc, I challenge you to a personal duel to the death! We shall fight with words to determine once and for all who is the most fucked up human being on the planet!
Jaune: (Huffs) Okay, this? I can do!
Jaune: I PLAY WITH HUMAN DOLLS!
Ironwood: I PLAY WITH HUMAN LIVES!
Jaune: I laugh at death!
Ironwood: I worship Salem on the weekends!
Jaune: SALEM! WORSHIPS! ME!
Ironwood: I lick tears off of orphans!
Jaune: I call arson a career!
Ironwood: I joined the military to watch people die!
Jaune: I celebrate living failure!
Ironwood: I submit to certain death!
Jaune: I harass the elderly!
Ironwood: I dip my soldiers with disease!
Jaune: I throw rocks at the homeless!
Ironwood: Oh yeah? Well, you wouldn't know anything about this because you're a virgin, but casualties are my favorite form of sexual foreplay! (Jaune stunned) YES! HAHAHA! Foolish child! You thought you could match wits with the worst of us and win?! You played the cards of a petulant boy, Jaune Arc, and now you and your little bitch friends will die!
Jaune: (Looks to his team)
Nora: (Thinking) You can do it, Jaune!.
Ren: (Thinking) There's no one I've ever met who's creeper than you!.
Jaune: You thought you were fighting a mere moral? You thought you could probe the darkness that is my mind?!.
Jaune: FOOL! I SHALL DROWN IN THE MAELSTROM OF MY NIGHTMARES! MY TENTACLES SHALL TWIST AND CONTORT YOUR THROAT AS I THROTTLE YOU WITH VISIONS OF HERMAPHRODITIC SUCCUBI AND VIOLENT! OEDIPEDAL! RAPE FANTASIES!
Jaune: I will take your cities! I will subjugate your children! I will rape and devour your armies! But you, only you shall survive, so that you may bear testament to my will and ultimate revengeance!
Atlas: ...
Vale: ...
Vacuo: ...
Mistral: ...
Salem: ...
#rwby#jaune arc#a slap on titan#james ironwood#marrow amin#ruby rose#weiss schnee#blake belladonna#cardin winchester#yang xiao long#fox alistair#coco adel#nora valkyrie#salem#yatsuhashi daichi#lie ren#pyrrha nikos#glynda goodwitch
130 notes
·
View notes
Text
i wish you would | trevor zegras
nora’s bday celly | trevor zegras x fem!reader
summary: three times you thought about contacting trevor after the breakup and the one time you did.
note: this barely follows the song, but i think it’s cute. this is the first time i’ve done one of these 3+1 type of things. also, i’m aware i said so it goes would be my next writing, but i cannot finish it for the life of me.
{ #1 }
in the quiet of the night, you lie in bed, restlessly tossing and turning. you pass time watching the headlights pass the window pane. the empty space beside you feels increasingly vast with each passing night. his warmth, his presence, the feeling of completeness he brought to your life—all of it is deeply missed.
weeks have passed since you agreed to part ways with trevor, and the weight of regret bears down on you. throughout your daily routine, everything seems to trigger memories of him. the scent of his cologne that still lingers in the air, the sensation of his arms around you, and the echo of his laughter haunt your thoughts. it’s all vanished, leaving you begging to turn back the clock.
recollections of the heated argument that led to your breakup flood your mind. the hurtful words exchanged in the heat of the moment once seemed justified, but now you see the mistakes. you wish you could take back those terrible words and heal the wounds.
“you’re so fucking full of yourself, trevor!” your voice was loud, thunderous even. “do you even care about anyone else other than yourself? have you ever even cared about this relationship?” the questions hung in the air. he took them like a bullet, each going through him with a stabbing pain.
he look at you through teary eyes, “of course i care! i’ve done everything for you!” he retorts, matching your tone. “you say i’m the one full of myself, but you don’t even know, honey. you’re just as bad as me.” he stifles out a sarcastic laugh. the sound of your heart breaking fills your ears.
through staggered breaths and choked sobs, you muttered, “it was never a good idea starting something with you. i knew you’d act like this.” you didn’t even mean what you were saying. the words flew freely off your tongue and straight into trevor’s face.
“then maybe we should break up.”
break up. you and him were breaking up.
tears streamed down your cheeks onto trevor’s boston university crewneck that swallowed you. “yeah, i think we should.”
you jolted up in your bed, shaking your head as an attempt to get the memory out. without thinking, you grabbed your phone, dialing his number, but hesitating to press call. finally, your thumb pressed down on the screen. his unchanged contact photo filled the screen as the dial tone rung through the silence of your room.
your heart seemed to pause when he finally answered, and for a moment, there was silence before his voice filled your ears. “hello?” he greeted, his tone tinged with confusion. say something! say something, y/n! but just as you parted your lips to speak, he interrupted with, "who is this?"
your heart sank as the realization hit you. he had deleted your number. tears welled up in your eyes, and with quivering breaths, you hastily hung up the call.
-
{ #2 }
as you stroll along the familiar streets of your hometown, an unmistakable sense of nostalgia washes over you. it’s been quite some time since you last been to bedford, your home town, and it feels as if a floodgate of memories from your past has been suddenly unleashed.
you hadn’t been back here since you moved to anaheim with trevor. your family would travel to california for holidays and your busy schedule never gave you time to visit.
taking a turn onto a tree-lined street, you find yourself at the very place where you first met - the moment that started it all. this was trevor’s street.
you find yourself pausing, leaning against the street sign, your thoughts carried away by the flood of emotions. it’s a bittersweet rush, a reminder of why the two of you were soulmates to begin with.
the memory of his radiant smile, the tenderness in his gaze, and the way his fingers used to entwine with yours - all of it floods your senses, and an overwhelming longing for the hockey boy surges through you, stronger than it has been in a long while.
you stand before the street sign, caught in contemplation about taking a stroll down memory lane. you know he wouldn't be here; he left his family home when he got drafted by the ducks a couple of years ago. it’s the offseason now, and he's probably out somewhere in los angeles, likely at some club.
still, doubts swirl in your mind as you turn the corner, and there it is - a jolt of surprise courses through you. his orange bronco is parked right there in the driveway.
your walking comes to a halt as well as your breath. he was in bedford at the same time as you. your thoughts go back to yesterday when you thought you saw someone who looked like trevor, but before you could catch a second glimpse, your sister was pushing you out of the store. he’s been here the whole time.
in a vulnerable moment, a thought crosses your mind - to reach out, to hear his voice, to find out if he misses you too. yet, reality soon hits you, and you're reminded of the reasons that led to your parting. the pain, the heartbreak, and the carelessness.
with a heavy heart, you continue down the street, leaving behind the memories and the longing.
-
{ #3 }
you push your shopping cart down the aisles of the grocery store, your eyes scanning the shelves for the items on your list. it’s just a routine errand, but today, something feels different.
as you turn a corner, you suddenly spot him - trevor, standing by the fresh produce section. your heart skips a beat, and suddenly it becomes hard to breathe. it’s been a while since you've seen him in the flesh.
sure you knew it was coming. he was in bedford at the same time as you, it was only a matter of time before you bumped into each other. and yet you were still surprised as ever.
his eyes scanned the shelves for cherries - his favorite fruit. whenever you’d go to the store together he’d make sure to grab two bags of organic cherries, just because he knew he’d go through the first bag within a day or two.
his hair has been trimmed since the last photo of him you’d seen. you always attempt to stay away from any social media news surrounding trevor. it just hurt too much to see anything regarding him. however, a few times you’ve caught yourself searching his name, just to check in.
as you continued to stare at him from hidden inside the cereal aisle, an impulsive urge to go talk to him filled your mind. a chance to reconnect, to bridge the gap left by the breakup. or possibly to strike up conversation and maybe relight the flame that once went out.
but then, a wave of doubt sweeps in. a few weeks ago you scrolled by a tiktok about trevor. as soon as you saw his name your scrolling halted. although, you soon paid the price.
there were rumors that the hockey star has some sort of relationship with dixie d’amelio. your heart flooded with hurt and sadness. there had been photos of him at her birthday dinner and out on an aquarium date (where he had taken you many times before).
yes, you two were broken up, but it had only been a few months. were you really that easy to get over? were you just another one of trevor’s flings?
the mere idea of him with someone else sends a surge of sadness through you. it’s an unexpected punch to the gut, causing you to hesitate. you don't want to face that reality, to witness him contentedly moving forward while you still wrestle with unresolved emotions.
with a sad sigh, you pushed your cart along through the aisle and away from trevor. he hadn’t even seen you, but what if he had? would he had forgotten about his rondevu with the tiktoker for you? or would he not even bat an eye? maybe it was best that he hadn’t seen you.
-
{ + #1 }
it had been a few days since you’d seen trevor at the market. seeing him was reliving the break up all over again. reliving the turmoil of packing your things and giving him back all his possessions. you just couldn’t take it. you couldn’t take seeing him. not right now at least, so, the safest option was to just stay locked inside your airbnb. however, sofia had a different plan in mind.
with relentless enthusiasm, sofia called you up, her voice brimming with excitement. "you won't believe who i bumped into at the coffee shop today!" she exclaimed. "it’s destiny, my friend. we’re going out tonight!"
you tried to resist, your initial instinct being to wallow in the comfort of your own thoughts. "i don't know, sof. i’m not really in the mood for going out."
but sofia wasn't about to take no for an answer. "nonsense!" she declared. "we’re going to hit the town, dance our hearts out, and try to get laid!" with sofia’s infectious energy, you found it hard to argue.
she arrived at your doorstep dressed to the nines, her outfit shimmering with confidence. "we’re getting you out of that slump, babe," she announced with a wink.
“fine.” you grumbled, stomping your feet into your bedroom and picking out the tiniest and shimmeriest outfit you had. it would be good to go out and have fun for a change.
within an hour, you and sofia were walking into the crowded club. the air reeked of alcohol and sweat. sofia grabbed your hand tightly, leading you through the crowd of people and to the bar.
once she reached the bar, she ordered some colorful drink that you were sure would get you drunk with the first sip.
“here you go, doll.” she smiled, passing you the glass. you looked down at the concoction, not entirely sure what it contained, but the mystery didn't faze you as you downed it, savoring the bittersweet burn as the liquid slid down your throat.
“that’s my girl.” she praised, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “now i’m going to do my rounds, make a few friends, and maybe score some free drinks. you’re welcome to join, but i assume you might want some space.” she said. “it’s up to you, honey.”
the thought of trailing behind sofia as she charmed every man in the room didn't hold much appeal. "i’m good, sofia. thanks, though," you replied graciously. she beamed, bid her farewells, and reminded you to call if you needed anything.
throughout the night, the atmosphere of the club and the effects of the colorful drink started to ease your mind. you swayed to the music and danced with a few nice girls around you.
and then through the flashing lights and dancing bodies, your eyes locked onto a familiar figure across the room. trevor was standing there, his gaze unexpectedly meeting yours. then the real reason you were out partying came back to you. you had forgotten him for three hours at most, that must hold some sort of record, right?
he turned to you, completely forgetting the conversation he was in and walking towards you. as soon as you saw him move, you were already zooming to the exit.
“y/n, wait!” you heard him exclaim from behind you, but you didn’t dare to look back. you could already tell that he was hot on your trail.
as you dashed toward the exit, your heart raced, pounding in your chest as the thought of trevor catching up to you consumed your mind. sofia’s cheering and the party atmosphere had become distant.
outside, the cool night air hit you like a brick. you leaned against the club’s wall, your breath coming in heavy gasps as you attempted to gather your scattered thoughts.
within moments, trevor caught up to you, his face etched with concern. “why are you running away from me?” he asked, his voice cracking as he spoke.
you looked up at him and just like that, you broke months of no contact. you hated how his blue eyes caused butterflies in your stomach despite the situation. you despised how his tender touch on your side had the power to make your troubles vanish, yet simultaneously create new ones.
“trevor, i,” his gaze softened as your voice rang in his ears. he longed for the sweet sound of your voice over these past few months. “i can’t face you right now.”
despite your words, you didn’t dare to move a muscle.
“why not?” his tone was gentle and composed.
you stared at him, inhaling a sharp breath. you look up at the stars and then to the oak bench that stood to the left of you. tears sat at your waterline, threatening to fall at any moment.
“because facing you brings it all back. it brings back all the memories and everything i wish would’ve happened.” you confessed, your voice quivering with raw emotion. tears welled in your eyes and trailed down your cheeks
he stepped back, his hand rubbing his neck. “what do you wish, y/n.” his voice grew louder, laced with a mixture of longing and desperation.
“i wish you would come back!” you retorted, your words spilling out uncontrollably. “i wish i never hung up the phone that night and i wish you knew how much i miss you because it’s too much to be angry anymore."
the hockey player stood their breathlessly. why hadn’t you said this before? why hadn’t you said this when you were breaking up? if he had known he would’ve been in your arms these past lonely months instead of praying to the universe that you’d come back.
with a word, he took a step closer, and his arms enveloped you in a warm embrace. you felt his heartbeat against your chest. the tears you had been holding back finally flowed freely, along with his own.
trevor’s voice broke the silence, gentle and sincere. "y/n, i wish i could turn back time and change everything."
you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any sign of doubt or insincerity. finding none, you whispered, "it’s not about turning back time. it’s about moving forward."
he nodded, his grip on you never faltering. "i’m here now, baby. i promise i won't let you down again."
a warm smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "i missed you so much," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.
his fingers brushed away your tears, his thumb caressing your cheek. "i missed you too, more than you'll ever know."
#hearts4hughes#nora’s writings 💐#nora’s birthday celly!#trevor zegras#trevor zegras imagine#trevor zegras x reader#trevor zegras blurb#trevor zegras imagines#nhl imagine#hockey blurb#anaheim ducks
372 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi bestie! congrats! could i request — “hey, i think it’s time to go to bed.” ?? thank you❤️
thank you!!! and thanks for sending this prompt! the first one of the 2k celly 🎉🎉🎉
new light: give up — rafe cameron
new light masterlist
summary: a weekend away with all of rafe’s friends gets off to a sleepy start.
warnings: alcohol
It was a weekend you’d been looking forward to for a while.
Yours and Rafe’s schedules had finally lined up with the rest of his friends from college, and everyone went in on a rental in Nashville for a long weekend. Margot came in from the Outer Banks, and Kelce was just over in Texas so he made the trip over, too. Topper couldn’t get out of his school commitments, and you were already ready to drag Rafe into a million different stores until you could source a good souvenir for him.
The rental house was cute—the owner had really leaned into the Music City theme, and you were charmed by the decor.
Sawyer and Cody had been first in this morning, and you and Rafe arrived to them already tipsy while they fought over one of several empty bedrooms in the house. Everyone else had trickled in later, Margot and then Kelce, with Graham and Nora rounding out the group soon after.
Catching up and settling in over drinking games had rolled straight into a pregame, and the general consensus permeating the room was that everyone was ready to get the night started and make plenty of bad decisions.
“We’re out the door by 10, alright?” Cody says sternly.
Everyone standing around the kitchen island nods dutifully, knowing he’ll make good on his promise of leaving people behind.
“Yes sir,” Kelce jokes. You smile tiredly at their antics, loving seeing all of the friends you love together in one room, fitting together seamlessly.
Rafe taps your hip from where you’d been leaning over the island, that last shot of ’42 going straight to your head. “C’mon. Let’s go get ready.”
“Lead the way.”
You follow Rafe down to the lower level, to the room you’d both decided was furthest away from the chaos while still having a private bathroom.
He beelines for his suitcase, where it sits unfolded in the corner, while you make your way to the bed with your makeup bag, hiding a barely stifled yawn once his back is turned. But once you sit down on the bed, you lean back into the headboard, shutting your eyes momentarily.
“Hey.”
You crack one eye open, your cheeks heating up when you realize you’ve been caught. “M’sorry. Do you think I can power nap and still get ready in an hour? I have an outfit visualized in my head.”
“Not a chance in hell. You’re gonna change it four times,” Rafe laughs, pulling his shirt up over his head where he’s kneeling in front of his bag. He turns to you, his eyes softening. “You’re tired, sweetheart, aren’t you?”
“Thought we’d have more downtime today,” you admit. “Not sure why, knowing your friends.”
Rafe drops the shirt he’d been holding, standing and making his way over to you.
“Bad move on your part,” he says, crawling up the bed and over your body, kissing you on the forehead before he sits to your side, grabbing your hand in both of his.
You smile, bringing his hand up to your lips, batting your eyelashes with great effort due to your heavy eyelids. “Could you go back upstairs for a RedBull?”
“Baby,” Rafe coos. “I think it’s time to go to bed.”
You blink, perking up in your surprise at his suggestion. “What? It’s the first night, we have to go out.”
“Says who?” Rafe shrugs.
“Says everyone upstairs who’ll drag me out of here kicking and screaming,” you deadpan.
“I’ll fight ‘em,” he says seriously.
“Rafe,” you laugh, pushing him with a hand to his chest. “I just have to rally.”
You make no move to do such, and time continues ticking down. You aren’t testing him, because you know you’d get him off your back with a minuscule pout. You didn’t even have to do that, and he was already suggesting you stay back. An outcome for the night you hadn’t even realized you wanted until you sealed yourselves off in your room, the first quiet moment to yourselves all day.
“Okay,” Rafe says, moving your makeup bag from your lap to the side table next to the bed. “Or, hear me out, you could change out of your jeans and go brush your teeth.”
It’s a sudden thought so enticing, but you know you can’t fold yet.
“It’s the first night,” you reemphasize, moving the bag back into your lap. “I just have to get going—I’ll order an espresso martini at the first place.”
“No one’s gonna give you shit,” Rafe says, moving the bag out of your reach again. “They’ll understand.”
“Okay, but Margot doesn’t know Nora that well, and I’ll feel bad if—”
“Kelce can handle Margot,” Rafe reminds you stubbornly.
You sigh, engaging in a quick staring contest. You both can’t help but start smiling the minute you lock eyes, and you have the urge to push him again, but you fight it.
“If I didn’t go,” you finally suggest, immediately regretting it when Rafe smiles again like he’s victorious, pink lips pulled up in smug satisfaction as his hand strokes over your knee. “If. Would you make sure they don’t do anything they’ll regret? That goes for all of them, honestly.”
The smug look fades as his eyebrows furrow. “Babe, I’m not going either.”
“Rafe,” you protest.
“Y/n,” he counters. “I don’t wanna go.”
“You don’t wanna go? Or you don’t wanna leave me?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Not mutually exclusive.”
“I’m not that girlfriend,” you remind him. “You should go.”
“I’m that boyfriend,” he says. “I’m not going.”
“But you haven’t seen your boys in forever,” you protest, your last defense.
Rafe smiles, squeezing your knee. “Trust me, I’ve had enough of them in the last 12 hours.”
You look at his face a little more, noticing his under eyes are a bit darker than you’d taken notice of, that his voice was dipping into that lower timbre he only got before dawn and after dusk. He hadn’t even had that much to drink today from what you remember, so you know it wasn’t that. It hits you then that he’d probably been pushing himself to go out just for you—what you thought you’d been doing for your friends. The surge of fondness is quickly overtaken by the need to make it right—to make sure he’s really sure.
But Rafe zeroes in on it and kisses your next argument off of your lips, pulling himself back over you and off of the bed. He forgoes the button up he’d been fiddling with earlier, pulling out a pair of sweatpants instead and slipping them up to his hips, tossing a worn t-shirt in your general direction. “Are we done here? I’m gonna go up and break the news.”
You finally feel yourself fully relax into the bed, knowing you’re done half-heartedly arguing and he’s done graciously entertaining it. “They’re gonna call us lame.”
“Oh, we are. I’ll bring us some snacks, too.”
You laugh, beckoning him closer with a finger as you stand again. You lean up to wrap your arms around him, feeling your tired body lose even more steam as he squeezes you tight, your eyes finding his. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he says, surprised like he even needs to say it to you, like there’s ever a stray second where you don’t know that as truth. He presses a kiss into the side of your head, only letting you go after a while. “Get in bed.”
You give him a mock salute, turning to grab your cosmetics bag off of the table again to take into the bathroom with you. Rafe raises his eyebrows. “My skincare is in here. Promise.”
He points at you accusingly as he swings the door open. “I’m holding you to that.”
#outerbankies 2k#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction
413 notes
·
View notes
Text
TSC CHAPTER ELEVEN SPOILERS AHEAD
STARTING OFF THE CHAPTER STRONG AS FUCK DISASTER BISEXUAL JEAN MOREAU AWARENESS
picturing jean in a pair of raybans is good for my mental health
-
“Missed a couple spots. Need a hand?”
jeremy u flirt
-
do the trojans ever realise that jean is NOT IN FACT deaf and standing right in front of them when they are talking about him?
-
oh ok so chapter 11 is in fact worse than chapter 10
if anyone reading this has ever believed that they deserved the abuse, trauma/suffering they’ve experienced, i’m here to tell u right now that nobody deserves that and it is not ever ur fault, no matter what others might say or try to convince u. whatever happened to u is unequivocally not ok. please seek help from a professional if u are worried about urself or others in ur life.
if u have ever felt uncomfortable or violated in certain situations just know that no matter how ‘big’ or ‘small’ the situation may seem (i use these terms loosely because i do not believing in ranking peoples traumas), ur feelings are 100% valid and u always always deserve to be respected and heard.
i hope u know that u are not alone and never will be.
sending lots of love to all of u
-
wtff jenkins is a girl?? did we all know this or have i just read too many fanfics always thought jenkins was a guy?
-
It was sacrilegious even in the privacy of his head, and Jean hunched his shoulders against a blow that never came.
fuck that’s a good line. traumatic as fuck and makes me wanna cry for all these boys have gone through but god as an ex-catholic raised queer person i can tell u this line struck hard even though i cant relate to the specifics of the scene
-
Jean didn’t mind cooking, but he didn’t say that. This was the first time his room truly felt safe and right, and he was content to hold onto it for as long as he could. He closed his eyes again, but now his thoughts were snagged on Jeremy. At length he broke the silence to say, “Two beds would fit in here.”
jean moreau u are so loved
-
“You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”
THE PARALLELS IN THIS BOOK ARE FUCKING KILLING ME PLS NORA LET ME LIVE IN PEACE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HANDLE
ANDREIL EXISTS IN EVERYTHING
-
Just because he had to meet with this man didn’t mean he had to speak to him.
jean, u diss aaron earlier in the books but really ur just the same as him
-
betsy dobson to the mother fuckibg rescue someone get this bitch a ‘worlds best therapist’ mug
and jean, dude do u know how fucking similar u and neil are, seriously like u guys should be besties like-
“It was not my choice,” he sent back in warning. “I do not need counseling.” He didn’t trust her at all, but there was no point spelling it out.
CHAPTER TWELVEE
dude wtf is it with me and napping while tryna finish this book, literally just accidentally fell asleep for 2.5 hrs when i could’ve been reading
-
“Imagine getting changed so we can practice,” Jean said.
king is fed uppp
-
“It’s not about size, anyway.” “Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.
OKKKK JEREMY I SEE U
-
“That’s not—I do care. I want you to play with us, and I want you to have fun again. I want to see what you can do on the court and what you bring to our defense line. I want us to finally win this year after coming so close and failing too many times. But it’s just a game, Jean. Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.”
GOOD GOD ITS WHAT U DESERVE JEAN
-
“Every time you say that you take a year off my life. I’d really like to live to ninety, so please knock it off.”
now the trojans understand how the foxes feel when neil whips out his ‘im fine’ line,, also i’m never gonna stop saying that neil and jean should be besties it’s literally just a fact
“I do not believe you when you are drinking such filth,” Jean said, with a disapproving look toward her drink. Laila stared him down as she sucked a long gulp through the straw,
this book is so devastatingly depressing and explores some of the most horrible traumatic things that could happen to a person but it’s interspersed with some of the funniest scenes that it gives me whiplash
-
“Pat and Ananya have wanted to fuck Cody’s brains out for almost a year now. I really thought Cody moving in with them this summer was going to finally get that ball moving, but apparently not. It’s getting kind of pitiful.” “Pat and Ananya have been engaged almost as long as Cody has known them,” Laila pointed out as she fit herself against Cat’s side. “You can’t blame Cody for being scared of where they might belong in something like that.”
NORA GIVING US THE POLYAMORY WE DESERVE AFTER CUTTING KANDREIL FROM THE OG BOOKS LETS GO QUEER REP
YK THAT RUNNING JOKE THAT USC IS THE QUEEREST TEAM AND NOBODY HAS AS MANY GAYS AS THEY DO??? IM SO FUCKIBG HAPPY NORA HAS BASICALLY MADE THAT CANNON
-
CHAPTER 13333
jeremy is so hopelessly crushing on jean and that’s real of him
meanwhile jean:
Threat assessment, he told himself, and it was almost the truth.
sureee buddy
-
They’d arrived holding hands and dressed in matching cream-and-teal outfits. Even their gold-rimmed sunglasses and teal sneakers were identical.
well that is definitely an outfit!
-
“Speaking of happy endings, has Laila bought you a sex toy yet?”
EXCUSE ME
this whole scene was so fucking random but jean deserves great friendships
-
ANOTHER TRANS TROJAN LETS FYCKING GOOOOOO CONGRATS ON UR TOP SURGERY XAVIER
-
‘i’m sure the ravens wouldn’t have taken neil in if they’d known he was the son of a mob boss!!’
uhhhhh…
i don’t know how to tell u this buddy
-
dude i just cannot stop think about the whole new world of fanfics we’re gonna get now that tsc has come out like the aftg universe is expanding and becoming more detailed it’s gonna be crazy
chapter 14!!!
-
Jean eyed him. “For what purpose?” Jeremy looked to the ceiling for patience. “For fun.” Jean sighed as if Jeremy was the one being unreasonable.
oh jean we’ll get there eventually
-
Jean was a starving dog on a short chain who’d learned years ago not to bite back.
OH MY FUCKING GOD GIVE ME PEACE
MY CHEST IS ACHING AT THIS METAPHOR
-
SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP THE PARALLELS ARE DESTROYING ME I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE
“You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.”
-
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he hurt you, I’m sorry that you’re still afraid to talk about it, and I’m sorry that you think I’ll never understand. I’m sorry that he tricked you into thinking you deserved it. But I’m not sorry he’s gone. I can’t be.”
“Neither am I.”
TEAR MY HEART OUT AND STOMP ON IT NORA JESUS CHRIST
-
everytime one of the trojans says ‘we’re here to listen whenever your ready to talk and open up to us’ and then they go and demand he tell them every secret he’s ever kept
-
kevin and jeans relationship in this book is so fucking well written, it’s tearing me apart and giving me so much life
they have so much shared trauma and the relationship is so complex but they understand eachother so deeply
He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” “I will wait as long as it takes,”
“Be careful with it,” Kevin said. “Be careful with him.”
-
“Night practices with Andrew and Neil,” Kevin said. “Obsessed,” Jeremy
exy fiend kevin day representation
also
“No, Jean is fine. As fine as he can be, anyway. Yes, I know.” (kevin when talking to someone ‘offscreen’) i just know he was talking to neil
-
She crossed the room and leaned over, catching Jean’s head in her hands so she could plant a kiss to the top of his head.
this is the love jean deserves
chapter 15:
“Your fourth line has a smart mouth, Coach,” Jean said. “I was hoping he would bite his tongue off in the fall and save us both some grief in the long run.”
jean i love u
-
Jean wished he had the common sense to shut up,
he’s so me
-
“And keep Kevin’s name out of your ignorant mouth,”
THEYRE SO IMPORTANT TO ME UR HONOUR
-
i keep forgetting that jean only learnt english after he moved into evermore and that kevin probably taught him but i love the subtle little reminders every now and then when he has to clarify a word, like when he has to ask what a ‘floozy’ is and:
due to egregious injuries.” Jean didn’t recognize that word, but since Lucas was already running his mouth, he didn’t get a chance to ask.
it’s such a good detail that just adds so much more depth to his character
-
“Permission to break his face, Coach?” Jean asked. “Denied,” White said.
SCREAMING
THIS IS SO NEIL AND WYMACK CODED I LOVE IT
-
JEAN MOREAU ON A MOTHERFUCKING MOTORCYCLE HOLY SHIT
catalina alvarez u wonderful human i love u
-
jean realising how big the world is and the fact that he’s explored more of california than any other place he’s been before is making me tear up he never should’ve been kept trapped inside he deserves to see the world
-
So long as she existed as fractured memories, she was safe and small and sheltered.
oh god don’t do this to me
-
Jean gazed out at the endless horizon, feeling small and infinite from one moment to the next.
beautiful, just beautiful, absolutely immaculate
A cool evening breeze. Rainbows. Open roads.
A COOL EVENING BREEZE. RAINBOWS. OPEN ROADS
-
SECOND LAST CHAPTER!!! LETS GOOO
“He is not going to hit you. Okay? We don’t do that here. You said you’d try to do better and that’s enough for us.”
starting off strong
-
You’re one of my kids now.
don’t mind me i’m just sobbing
-
no no no no no no no no no
holy shit no what the fucking fuck
don’t do this to jean rn oh my fucking god i’m sick to my stomach on the verge of fully crying right now
actually dreading reading on right now
-
um ok yeah so i read it and to anyone who hasn’t finished the book yet beware there is a graphic violent scene followed by an intense panic attack in chapter 16 that’s is very difficult to read
i did cry and all i can say is thank fuck for lisinski’s timing
-
Jeremy’s response was low but unhesitating: “I will not look away.” “I do not want you to look.” It frightened him how much it sounded like a lie,
-
only redeeming part of this chapter is that neil’s back but i’m still in so much shock over what’s just happened that i cant properly appreciate him
chapter 17 the finale:
feeling incredibly somber as i reach the end of the book
please god destroy anyone who has ever hurt jean moreau
-
nora’s really filling in all the plot holes left from aftg - why did nobody question why neil’s hair was dyed after evermore ????? why did nobody question neil being at evernote in the first place???
-
i’m laughing at neil’s map print-outs he’s so uncool, also i keep forgetting this is still meant to be 2007
-
jean-yves moreau oh my fucking god
-
“says who?” Stuart asked. “The dead kid?
stuart hatford u are so funny, is this where neil inherited is sarcasm from?
stuart hatford says fuck riko and so do i
-
Neil shrugged. “Do you have anyone who can take on local work?”
NEIL JOSTEN U ARE MY HERO I LOVE U U BADASS MOTHER FUCKER
-
Neil offered her a disarming smile that would never sit quite right on his face.
devouring these scraps about my boy
-
YOOOO WTF NORA RLLY JUST WANTED TO GIVE JEAN THE WORST FUCKING DAY HE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE HUH?? JUST DROPPED THE FACT THAT HIS SISTER IS DEAD MY POOR BOY
-
Neil filled in the finer details with an ease that would have been impressive to listen to any other day
- yes neil is incredibly smart, thank u jean for confirming to us
-
The only thing left to ask for was something he barely understood: “I want to go home.”
oh the complicated nature of home and one’s sense of belonging that persists throughout these books will never fail to make me feel absolutely everything. nora knows exactly what i want in a book
-
“I can see the kitchen. There should be a door out to where the dumpsters are. We can make it back to the garage from there.”
to be loved by neil josten is to be offered a way to evade the fbi together
-
“Tedious,” Neil said. “I’m trying to eat.”
my hero
Neil waited until he was done before deciding he wanted to finish his drink. Neither agent was impressed with their absolute lack of urgency,
i love u neil josten pls give me ur autograph
Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to its front bumper and said, “That’s illegal, just so you know.” “Shut up and get in the car.”
i wish neil josten was real
-
He couldn’t fear a government who was so easily infiltrated and manipulated
FUCK THE GOVERNMENT
-
Neil flipped his takeout box open and started eating. “I’m allowed to visit people.”
he’s everything to me 🥰
-
“You’re one to accuse others of intolerable attitudes,” Browning said, and Neil only shrugged indifference.
and—for once—without any of your usual bullshit.”
- browning u love him just like the rest of us don’t lie rn
-
ngl i’m never getting over the fact that jean and neil are the same age like this is crazy to me nora whyd u have to do this i cant cope
-
“The more people I hold onto, the less of a threat I am, because I won’t want to endanger them by acting out.”
oh neil look how far uve come, i’m so proud
-
“Lock your door tonight if it will help, but Grayson will never bother you again.”
THANK U LORD FOR THE BRILLIANT NEIL JOSTEN HES ANSWERED MY PRAYERS U BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL HUMAN IM SO THANKFUL FOR UR PRESENCE
all my favourite bamf! neil fics have him taking out a hit on someone for the benefit of the people he loves and i’m so glad that’s canon
-
i’m going fucjing crazy i didnt think it was possible to love neil anymore than i already do
best friends ❤️
-
jean tearing up and throwing away the notebooks and realising he trusts the trojans and the four of them going to eat one of cats new recipes after they waited up last midnight for him
A COOL EVENING BREEZE RAINBOWS OPEN ROADS AND FRIENDS
!!!!!
I CSNT BELIEVE ITS OVERRRRR I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS HOLY FUCK
#aftg#all for the game#tsc#tsc spoilers#the sunshine court#jean moreau#jerejean#jeremy knox#catalina alvarez#laila dermott#neil josten#david wymack#stuart hatford#nora sakavic
54 notes
·
View notes
Note
Nora I need your take on a piece of phannie history. Dan's diss track, I really want to know what it was like when he released that? I wasn't around then and I would love to know because I can only imagine the reaction it caused lmao
oh yeah everyone lost their fucking minds over the obvious lines and then the phandom split in half between people more convinced than ever dnp were together and those who had all their hopes and dreams killed cause they decided that video was ultimate proof it was all fake, for some reason. i went back to check my own posts about it but i forgot i couldn't take the secondhand embarrassment when it first dropped and barely got through it LMAO. like now it goes hard but back then i Could Not Deal
such a good post 17 year old nora you are so funny and interesting
78 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiiii! So I have a lady Lesso request
Lady Lesso x drunk reader (either a student of age or teacher) whichever you are comfiest with
Reader is a very goofy drunk until they start to sober and then they are very emotional and they just keep explaining how in love with Lesso they are in front of the staff and beautiful they find her inside and out. How they want to marry her and live forever with her. Reader is also super snuggly and clingy when sobering up and pushing her away would make her cry.
Emotional Love
*Authors notes~a small break from the smut, not that I don't love it but this one's been sat here for a while now*
Trigger warnings~ drunk reader teacher of age x dean Leo pining reader trying to initiate sex under the influence
Prompt~ see ask^^^^*
A simple plan, a few drinks with some of the fellow Ever staff soon resulted into a game of never have ever. The rules were simple, if you did something you drink a shot, and then get to ask the next question. If there was multiple people who took the shot it was always passed to the left. It was no secret that you walked the line between good and evil, so it should've been obvious that you'd be the one who ended up the most drunk. Yet you still indulged the woman to play.
"Never have I ever wished for a child" Clarissa murmured watching as a few of the woman and yourself took a shot before taking her own. "Never have I ever had a sex dream of another woman" Anemore chose with a smirk, of course you would take a shot. "Never have I ever hated my subject" you smirked back at Emma as she took a shot. "Never have I ever had a personal conversation with Leonora" Helga whispered, her eyes stayed away from yours. In their male form Yuba and Leonora were sort of acquaintances. You took your shot alongside Clarissa. The game continued on much like that until you were very very drunk. "Oh! Let's do dares!" You giggled excitedly as if you'd just said the most amazing idea ever known to man.
"I'll go first, truth or dare Rissa?" Emma asked and naturally the dean choose truth. "Is it true you wish to join the schools together as one?" A silent nod was all she was given. "Truth or dare professor Espada" a small pause before "dare" was whispered. "I dare you to show us where your most hidden dagger is on your body." Standing up the more masculine woman pulled a dagger from the middle of her bra. "Truth or dare Y/n" you were so far gone you honestly went for what you thought was the better option, a dare. "I dare you to go and find Leonora and call her min söta tik." "Min söta tik" you repeated before standing up and leaving to find Leonora.
On the walk between the schools the air seemed to be harsher than before, instead of caressing your face it was now whipping it. Only then did it really hit you how drunk you truly were. Giggling as you tried to walk in a straight line which only resulted in you toppling over. Everything seemed to have you in a burst of giggles. The moon appears to have a face on it and you were happily having a conversation with the moon about why it was so yellow. Why yellow? Didn't it know yellow was not the way to go? No wonder why everyone says it's made of cheese if it wants to look yellow.
Arriving to Leonora's chambers you didn't even bother to knock, just barrelling into her room with a newfound confidence. But that very thing disappeared as soon as the redhead spoke up. "Dove?" Was all it took for you to burst into tears. "By the gods? What on earth is wrong?" She asked but her tone seemed to make you cry more. "I just I love you so much, you don't even know I exist! You're so pretty. On the inside. I wanna get inside you and stay foreverrrrr! Buy you don't know I want that. You're so beautiful Nora. M wan marry you and wake up with you next to me. Gods Nora I wanna make you feel so good, I could you know? I could make you feel like every colour of the rainbow, every star exploded in the galaxy just by my tongue in your-" your rant was cut off by the red head. "Woah woah dove you're drunk, you don't have a sound mind right now, you probably don't feel those things love" she rationalised but that made you sob, "I do feel them! I want you! I want to fuck you, marry you and love you! Why don't you want me?" Your tears and sobs were now bothering the woman, she hates to see you cry, let alone be the cause for it.
"Come here dove" she demanded opening her arms to you in an offer. One you immediately took, settling on her lap as her arms snaked around your waist. "Shhh see I'm here okay? But you're so drunk darling and I'd much rather have this conversation with you sober" she whispered to you hoping to soothe you with her presence. "M not drunk! Drunk can't go this" you explained with a goofy smile before attacking her neck with your lips. A hand trying to trail between your bodies only for Leonora to stop it on its way. "Darling, not while you're drunk. You're to special for that dove."
"min söta tik" you mumbled to her being absolutely star struck by her eyes, you look so adorable that she almost missed what you said to her then. "Pardon?" She replied with shock evident in her tone. "min söta tik, they said I had to say it? Is it bad Nora? I don't know what it means" you explained and Leonora knew she'd be having a word with Clarissa in the morning to discuss this. "It's not so nice darling, so we don't say it again okay? You're a sweet girl and that's why I love you." You snuggled into the woman's body in response, not processing that you'd just called her "my sweet bitch" but she was comforting and warm and that just made you wanna get closer and closer to her.
"Dove, you need to hop off my lap darling, my knee isn't liking the position" Lesso whispered to you only for you to start crying again. "I want stay. Warm!" You sobbed trying to cling to the woman but in your drunken state you interrupted it as her trying to get rid of you, why would she push you away? Doesn't she believe your feelings for her? Doesn't she care? Does she care for you like you do her?" You stiffened as your mind went round these thoughts on a loop. "Hey you, what's going on in that pretty kind of yours? I just thought we could snuggle in bed? You know Nora has a bad leg dove, it was cramping up so if I lay down and stretch it I can still hold you" she explained as you sniffled all tear eyed. "Mkay" you mumbled and allowed her to lead you to the bed, magically changing you and herself into some sleep wear before allowing you to come and snuggle up to her chest. "Sleep my dove we can talk in the morning about this emotional love."
Word count~ 1272
#anon answered#v3nusxsky answers#anon requested#lady lesso#sfgae#leonora lesso#lady lesso x reader#lesso x reader#fanfic#lady leonora lesso#leonora lesso x reader#lady lesso x you#lady leonora lesso x reader
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
random college!abby hcs
more!college abby
warnings: mentions of sex, drinking, drugs, and nudity, cursing, mild hint homophobia
first things first: jerry is alive and abby is his pride and joy
i'm serious... her mom died when she was a toddler and jerry hasn't had a long-term relationship since, so he's the only parental figure that she has
he took every precaution while raising her to make sure she always had everything she could ever need while also making sure that she didn't end up being an entitled brat
otherwise, she is very close with both of her father's siblings (her aunt is the only maternal relationship she has and definitely relied on her for all of her personal issues as a teenager), has a good relationship with jerry's mother and step-father
her mother was an only child, but her parents always come over for thanksgiving and even christmas sometimes
she was very supportive of her father taking in yara and lev after she moved out. she knew he was suffering from a severe case of empty nest syndrome. she def makes them feel so welcome right away like those strangers became her siblings in a matter of minutes
i'll only say it once ppl: OLD MONEY
jk i'll say it again. the andersons are a long line of surgeons and doctors so obvi they're gonna be well off
like, not "fund a research facility to get my kid into college" rich, they're more "i casually have a summer home, a ski chalet, and a ridiculously nice house to live in year round" rich.
her only real relationship was in high school (trigger warning: it was owen)
our bby had a bad case of comphet as a teenager
like fr she had not even considered the fact that she might be gay until she was two knuckles deep in some sorority girl during a party in her freshman year
after that she sort of just accepted it, she had no concern of her dad bc obviously he would be so accepting and supportive, but a few of her relatives def had an issue with it right off the bat (old money, old values)
she's been friends with manny, nora, owen, and mel since middle school, and the only one whose view of her seemed to change was owen (and mel too ig bc she stopped seeing abby as such a threat)
he drunkenly questioned her about it once, saying something super gross and along the lines of "you didn't seem gay when we were together"
to which she responded by offering him two choices; he could sit down and shut up or she would knock him tf out
he's cooled it since then but everyone knows that he still has a big fat crush on her so he still wants to believe he has a chance (even tho he was literally already talking to mel before they broke up and announced they were together only a few days after)
she's pre-med, majoring in bio and minoring in something totally different like classical lit or history or something
she's gonna end up being an orthopedic surgeon but later on in her career i can see her turning to teaching at a university or something
like doctor!abby turned prof!abby???? omg
is very health conscious
she's a gym rat, this we already know
she also takes her diet very seriously as well, but always has a secret stash of junk for when she really needs it
also careful with her alcohol/drug intake
she drinks on occasion (birthday, christmas, new years, etc, etc) but usually not very much (will almost always be sober enough to be the sober driver if need be)
she refuses to do any drugs during lacrosse season. she's so strict with her diet during the season that she won't ingest anything other than quality, nutritious food. she also needs to submit a drug test a few times per season so she doesn't wanna risk it.
in the off season, she's more willing to have a puff or two at a party or take an edible before a movie night or something (i don't see her doing any drug other than weed)
she lived with manny during her freshman and sophomore years
they had a shitty little apartment a few minutes away from campus
it was the only one that manny could afford on a student budget, and he refused abby's offer to get a nicer apartment and let her pay a larger portion of the rent than he did
they still had fun either way
manny loved having another person he could talk about girls with (he was initially gonna move in with owen but then he got ditched for mel)
every sunday morning they would get takeout for breakfast so manny could recount his night with the girl that had snuck out only a few hours earlier
she was a little hesitant to join in and share her own stories, but she finally got more comfortable in talking to him about it (RESPECTFULLY!!!!!!! she was so scared that she was gonna end up sounding like a literally disgusting pig but she keeps the details to a minimum and only says nice things unless the girl was a major bitch)
she's a lululemon/gymshark girly. her go-to style is definitely any variation of athlesiure. she wears lots of joggers, dry-fit tops, and the cleanest pair of white sneakers you'll ever see
underneath, i'm picturing her as more of a bralette type of girl. obviously she wears a sports bra to the gym, but on a regular basis, she likes wearing bralettes over bras bc she doesn't need that much support so they offer just enough without the discomfort of a bra
i'm settling the debate rn everyone, college!abby wears boxers AND panties
she finds boxers more comfortable on a day to day basis, but she likes wearing cheekies and thongs especially when she's wearing leggings
so dorky
she was definitely a sci-fi/fantasy kid
she grew up on harry potter, lord of the rings, star wars, etc etc
would love a partner who would watch them with her and actually enjoy it
unironically makes gym thirst traps on tiktok
her followers always comment supportive things like: looking good!, major gainssss, muscle mommy come destroy this pu-
still wears the iconic braid, but usually only when she's on the field. she occasionally wears her hair down, but i hc that she still likes to wear her hair pulled back in a cute little braided ponytail or a messy low bun
when she's older SHE CUTS HER HAIR OMG OMG OMG like literally i'm purring rn
like ik you've all seen that edit of her with super short hair omg she's so hot
in her junior year she decided to live on her own
manny moved in with jordan, who had been begging him for a while since the rent was more than he could handle on his own, though manny's rent would actually be cheaper than it was in his apartment with abby
they still do their traditions tho, still having sunday breakfast, still going to the campus pub on fridays for trivia, still going to the gym together on wednesdays...
they're actually besties i love them
when she's on her period, she craves salty foods
is so frustratingly confident in her emotions
will always try to diffuse the situation and pissing the other person off with her calmness
takes really good care of her skin
her favourite drink is diet cranberry gingerale
she's a dog person, but she would definitely enjoy having a cat around too
adopts a rescue dog a few weeks after finishing her residency
uses old spice fiji body wash and deodorant (SHE SMELLS SO FUCKING GOOD) and a musky vanilla body spray
likes to feel and be clean, but isn't too fussed about her body hair so long as it looks tidy. she isn't anti shaving, and will probably make an effort to shave more regularly in the early stages of a relationship until she's more confident and comfortable around the person
NSFW
down-there hair? duh
like i said, she likes to keep things tidy so she'll trim and maybe shave her bikini line if she's feeling it but that's it. she's not fussed with body hair, whether it's her or her partner's
again, she'll make an effort to keep herself looking neat and tidy for the first bit of a relationship but after a few weeks she's not afraid to go full-bush when she doesn't wanna shave
she doesn't love penetration. fingers are one thing, but she has only had not-so-great experiences with sex that involved a penis-like object. she'd wanna be the one wearing the strap for the most part, but she'd be willing to try it again with the right person
slow and passionate sex >>>>>
considers herself to be very vanilla but she's actually kinda kinkyyyyy (she gets so embarrassed and blushy when anyone calls her out for it)
she prefers scissoring to using her strap (but she LOVES her strap)
she doesn't like to choke her partners, but she will reach her hand up and just hold their throat while they're fucking
she's always so sensitive
came in like thirty seconds during her first time with another girl
she's noiiiiisssyyyyyyyy
she usually starts out with just heavy panting breaths, then they turn into deep grunts, then she begins to whine from low in her throat, and finally she begins to gasp out words of praise or curses
she squirts teehee
like i said she's always so sensitive, so if she's any ways worked up when someone's going down on her they better watch out bc they're in the splash zone
her strap is purple and sparkly
abby anderson eats ass
her nipples are super sensitive too
not really nsfw but she really loves casual nudity with her partners, changing in front of each other, hopping in the shower together, using the bathroom with the other person in the room...
she's a boob girl. doesn't matter if they're big, small, saggy, or perky, she just wants to suck them
when she's on top, she likes to pull her partner's leg over her shoulder and will just start like trailing kisses along the length of their calf
she's a literal munch
will use it to her advantage too
tells her partner she'll go down on them if they finish their assignments
#reader insert#x reader#imagines#lesbian#abby anderson#abby anderson imagine#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby tlou#college!abby anderson
406 notes
·
View notes
Text
an incomplete list of things that will make me go feral if they’re included in the movie:
alex pulling henry in the red room and “impugning his virtue” against a painting of alexander hamilton and amy out the door pretending not to know what that horny little bitch of fsotus is up to
henry offering to get out of alex’s life to make it easier for him and alex brushing it off, only to realise later what henry was truly offering him and how stupid he was not to see it
oscar talking to alex at the lake house. oscar seeing him and accepting him. alex looking at henry, nora and june (yes i know she’s not in the movie just let me dream. he can be looking at henry, nora and pez too) and feeling like his world is complete. the night on the porch swing. sometimes you just jump and hope it’s not a cliff. the night in the lake. the little stone of certainty alex feels in his chest as he’s making breakfast.
yeah so just the lake house part
uma thurman delivering a power point presentation about dating the prince of england and alex running out when she brings up protections and pamphlets
jesus, could you stop being an obtuse fucking asshole for, like, twenty seconds?
so glad you flew here to insult me—
i fucking love you, okay?
the issue of le monde that henry keeps on his nightstand from the first time they woke up together
i want you. then fucking have me—
alex waking up in kensington in an empty bed, henry coming back, looking at alex and going “your hair in the morning is truly a wonder to behold” before making the world’s best declaration of love
“When he got older, he learned about love as a strange thing that could fall apart no matter how badly you wanted it, a choice you make anyway. He never imagined it'd turn out he was right both times.” there is like a 0,1% chance of this making it into the movie but i have this tattooed on my skin and it would be so perfect to see it on screen
alex saying in front of the fucking queen that he wants henry’s children
henry rambling about art and history in the v&a and alex pulling him into a kiss because he just loves him so much
i’m taking a picture of a national gay landmark. and also a statue
alex panicking about henry having to enlist
shaan having to dislodge philip from the chandelier when henry comes out to him
i’ve been gay as a maypole since i came out of mum, philip
henry’s obsession with jaffa cakes and mr wobbles
the memories email. I took that down to the gardens. I pressed it into the leaves of a silver maple and recited it to the Waterloo Vase. It didn't fit in any rooms.
alex being a brat about the turkeys “put them in my room put them in my room put them in my room”
And then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it?
alex calling henry at christmas and telling him all about his family drama and henry simply telling him that he did his best, the only thing he really needed to hear
most things in this world are awful . but you are good
alex’s list of things he loves about henry (especially points 16 to 18)
henry writing down the list in the email and then calling henry anyway because he knows he likes to have these things written down but he needs to talk to him
alex kissing henry in front of a giambologna
Sería una mentira, porque no sería el.
the drunk bad metaphors about maps email
alex being summoned by the president after the email leaks and ellen just asking him “are you okay?”
alex’s whole family being there for him after the email leaks, hugging him through a panic attack and allowing him to be himself after a traumatic event that had to be dealt with in a strategic political way
or so help me God I will personally make your balls into fucking earrings. zahra you fucking queen
the call from the plane. “sweetheart” he hears henry’s exhale over the line. “hi love. are you okay?”
alex and henry running to hug each other as soon as alex gets to kensington
i won’t lie. not about you. alex and henry saying at the same moment that they want to do this, they want to tell the truth, because lying about this is not an option
the little touches between them. whether it’s holding hands beneath a buchkingham palace table or hugging in a closed room or pressing a knee agains the other in a public place, because that is a tether, a gravity that makes the world make sense
bea’s speech about grief and how it’s like a pie. i want to cry really hard
numbers on one of us getting involved in a sex scandal before the end of second term?
henry sticking out his chin in that defiant way
I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose.
"Plus we banged it our last night” shaan and zahra being a power couple
bea dumping the tea pot on philip and going “all that cocaine i did must have really done a job on my reflexes!”
the han and leia mural
dc dykes on bikes chasing protesters
To you, specifically, I say: I see you. I am one of you. As long as I have a place in this White House, so will you. I am the First Son of the United States, and I'm bisexual. History will remember us.
alex’s face being plastered on chocolate bars and thongs with henry’s after the royal suitor photos
henry telling alex he’s opening the queer shelters worlwide. henry telling alex he bought a brownstone in brooklyn
the flashbacks to election night 2016 when alex saw zahra crying and all those women taking in the moment their first madam president was elected
alex and henry biking through austin, alex opening the door to his childhood home with henry by his side
a little flash forward into their future and alex calling henry the love of his life, henry choosing the place for a credenza in his brownstone, going on vacations together and falling in love all over again, savouring their time together with no fear of getting caught, june and nora finally kissing and alex being shook at pez’s comment, henry realising he doesn’t want to ever go back, henry listening to alex talk to his mum about marriage when he has also bought a ring, henry and alex buying a house far from the public eye, having the quiet life they never had, june subletting the brownstone to be closer to pez and nora, “you and me”
#i know june won’t be in the movie but let me dream okay??#i have been rereading okay? and i am in pain#also we have confirmation some of these scenes are definitely in the movie so i’m ready to scream into the void forever after august 11th#rwrb#rwrb movie#red white & royal blue#red white and royal blue movie#red white and royal blue#alex claremont diaz#henry fox mountchristen windsor
168 notes
·
View notes
Text
baby, i'm high octane (vii)
synopsis: over the course of the last month of the documentary, nora makes some decisions.
pairings: jake seresin x nora rogers (oc)
warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni, all of the usual warnings, swearing, existential dread, spoilers for ocean's eleven lol, smut (like a little bit, oral sex, allusions to sex) (wc: 12.7K)
note: y'all, it's been so long, i'm so sorry 😭 but i hope the ridiculously long chapter makes up for the wait. last chapter before the epilogue woo!
previous chapter | series post | next chapter
TAGS: @theharddeck @mamachasesmayhem @bradshawsbitch @hangmanbrainrot @startrekfangirl2233 @kandierteveilchen @lostinwonderland314 @hangmanscoming @t-nd-rfoot @sometimesanalice @dempy @mlibbydp @bellaireland1981 @clancycucumber230 @kmc1989 @averagereader35 @eli2447 @filmflux @bethbunnyy @callsignspark @kajjaka @roosterbruiser @djs8891
Nora spends the whole weekend with Jake.
She doesn’t plan to spend the whole weekend with him. It’s one of those things that just kind of happens, like getting caught up in a good book and realizing it’s been hours and you haven’t moved an inch.
It’s not something she does. It’s more what she doesn’t do.
She doesn’t kick him out on Thursday night as soon as Jake has his pants on, doesn’t push him barefoot in the direction of the door with a Thanks for the sex, come back anytime.
She doesn’t make up a half-hearted excuse, some reason that she needs to be up early in the morning to keep him from sleeping over.
It’s so simple, really.
She never asks him to leave, and so, Jake stays.
On Friday morning, Jake brings her coffee in bed.
She is still half-asleep, sheets all bunched up under her chin, hair fanned messily across the sun-warmed pillows, cheeks flushed. A wide cat-like yawn escapes her as Nora stretches her arms above her head and reaches for the coffee with a slightly hoarse thank you.
Holding the mug in one hand, she rubs the harsh sting of sunshine from her eyes, knuckles creating starbursts on her eyelids, while Jake sprawls across the bed.
He is shirtless, a gold shimmer of chest hair running down his abdomen and disappearing under the black waistband of his boxer shorts. A ripple passes over his ab muscles as Jake stretches out and gets comfortable, searching for her leg through the crumpled pile of sheets.
He strokes a comforting pattern across her calf, across the curve of her knee, and back down again, propped on his elbow to watch her face.
“How’d I do?” Jake asks, nodding to the coffee. His voice is a low murmur, soft as the blueish morning light that filters in between the sheer curtains.
Holding his gaze, Nora raises the mug to her lips and takes a long, luxurious sip.
She almost sighs out loud. It’s perfect.
A half-faded conversation from last night pulls at the edge of her mind, muddled by drowsiness and sleep, like a dream.
She was half-awake, already caught in the deep tide of sleep, almost pulled under from the head rush that washed over her in the late hours of the night after Jake kissed damn near every inch of her and got back in line for seconds. A fuzziness in her fingertips, like Nora was taking her first dizzied steps off of the Tilt-A-Whirl at Pacific Park on the Santa Monica Pier, finding her sea legs in the closeness of him; a kind of gravity in the warmth of his chest, pressed against her bare back.
He wrung another orgasm from her minutes before, and in the afterglow, Nora melted into him like warmed butter, letting out a satisfied hum in the darkness.
Lips warm on her shoulder, Jake asked, “How d’you like your coffee?”
Her lids were so heavy, and Nora let her eyes close.
“Hm,” Nora hummed. “Guess.”
He chuckled, and Nora’s lips curved at the sound, at the warm puff of breath on her nape.
“Can’t ever make it easy on me, can you, Hollywood?”
“Oh,” Nora yawned out. “Not a chance.”
Jake shifted behind her, closer, and Nora sank further into the warm embrace of his muscular arms around her, so secure and solid. Comforting. Her own personal space heater in the form of a hot Naval aviator.
Who would’ve thought a man called Hangman would be such a cuddle?
And more, who would’ve thought she’d like it so much?
His fingers tangled with hers as Jake seemed to consider his next words, his guess.
“‘Course not. Let’s see. It’s….” Jake’s lips found the hollow beneath her ear, and Nora breathed a shallow gasp. “What? Oat milk and vanilla?”
All of the sudden, Nora felt very awake.
Her eyes flew open, and Nora startled, but Jake was too octopus-like around her for her to crane her neck around and look at him.
“Wow,” Nora said, her raised brows audible in her voice. “Tracking me, Lieutenant?”
“I’m observant.” Jake shifted again. “It’s part of what makes me a great pilot, sweetheart.”
And was that a hint of self-consciousness in his sleep-slurred voice? Underneath all of that self-assured confidence and bottomless bravado?
She kind of wanted to see if Jake was blushing.
His fingers flexed around hers, and Nora lightly squeezed his hand.
He squeezed back. Kissed the now-familiar curve of her shoulder and said, “Also, you drink the same thing every day. I’d have a hard time not noticing.”
“Yeah?” Nora smiled. “You must spend a lot of time looking at me.”
“Ever since I saw you, I haven’t wanted to look away.”
There in the dark, Jake’s words sounded like a confession, so open, so sincere.
She drifted off to sleep in his arms, a smile on her face, a pleasant and gnawing ache in her chest.
Now, vanilla and sugar on her tongue, Nora says, “Not bad, Lieutenant.”
Another sip. Another blissful half-sigh.
“It’s actually so good,” Nora concedes. “It’s perfect.”
A smile pulls at the edge of his mouth, and Jake replies, softly, “Good.”
A quick kiss glances against the side of her knee, and Jake sits up and brushes her hair from her pink cheeks.
She is flushed from sleep; warm from the sun and him.
He’s sitting so close; looking at her with such open adoration that she feels like she’s burning.
“You’re staring,” Jake drawls with a slow smirk. You have a staring problem. His voice is like the low rumble of a distant summer storm and slightly hoarse, and Nora wants to wrap herself in it like a blanket and sleep the rest of the day away.
Instead, Nora carefully sets the coffee on the nightstand and cupping his face between her hands, kisses him.
For once, she catches him off guard.
A deep, surprised sound punches out of him – half exhale, half groan.
She loops her arms around his strong neck, pulling him in, needing to be closer to him. Her fingers brush over the shorter hairs at his nape, curl in the longer strands, damp from where Jake must’ve showered before Nora woke. Dark gold, like a bottle of maple syrup in the sunlight.
Catching on, Jake bends a hand around the back of her neck and rolls her underneath him on the mattress, following her down, his mouth on hers the whole way down. He swipes his tongue across her bottom lip and into her mouth, and Nora opens for him with a sigh.
It’s slow and natural.
Would it always be like this? So easy? she wonders as Jake slides his hand up her side, fingers fanning across her ribcage and higher. Would it be as easy as falling asleep in his arms and waking up to the rich smell of coffee in the morning and kissing slowly like both of them know there will be other kisses, other mornings?
His hand cuts across her abdomen, and Jake covers her breast with his palm, and Nora lets the thought go, like the end of a balloon string, and arches into him.
There are suddenly too many layers between them.
And impatient, Nora kicks the sheets away and, hooking her leg around his hip, pushes his boxers down and frees his cock. He groans against her mouth, a sweet and rough sound, a reverent sound.
One hand comes down to hold her against him, rough palm sliding across the back of her thigh and up and up, and Nora shudders against him as Jake runs his fingers through the wetness that’s building between her legs.
He still has his other hand on the back of her neck, pad of his thumb swiping across her thrumming pulse, and hell, Nora almost wants to reach up and pull his hand around, urge him to spread those broad fingers across her collarbone, across her throat and –
Another time.
She breaks the kiss and breathes, “Turn over,” against his mouth.
And Jake – damn him – does this thing with his fingers that makes her brain go blank for a solid five seconds. Like Nora’s been put on airplane mode.
A grin dimples his cheeks as Jake looks down at her, lids low, lips parted just enough to show his teeth. “Now, isn’t that my line, sweetheart?”
She bites down on her bottom lip, holding back something halfway between a laugh and a moan. “Just… get on your back.”
It’s actually obscene how effortlessly Jake flips them.
He reaches for her again, moving to pull her forward and settle between her open legs, hand around his hard cock, but Nora plants her hands on his stupidly broad shoulders and pushes him back down.
He could so easily resist her, but Jake lets her lead.
He looks up at her from the pillows with a familiar gleam in his eyes. “What’re you up to, sweetheart?”
“You know…” Nora murmurs against his neck. “I had something I wanted to do last night.”
She kisses down his neck, across his shoulders – his beautiful shoulders – and down the center of his chest, memorizing the golden skin and hard muscle in the blue morning. He really is so goddamn handsome.
His gaze is molten, melted gemstones. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She moves down his abdomen, admiring the way Jake’s muscles shudder under the soft press of her lips. She notices Jake is holding his breath, and Nora smirks. Good. She wants him a little uneven.
She looks up at him from under her lashes. “You wouldn’t let me suck your cock.”
“I was being a gentleman,” Jake argues.
“Well, in that case, allow me to thank you.”
Nora runs her hand over his cock, stroking him once, twice, and puts her mouth around him, and Jake makes a choked sound, breathing in sudden and sharp, a fragile sound that quickly fades into a broken groan.
“Christ, Nora…” Jake groans, reaching down, his large hand settling on the back of her head, like Jake needs something to ground himself, fingers threading through her hair.
She hums around him in response, and Jake lets out a breathless, “Fuck,” that’s as flattering as a compliment.
It’s all moans and groans and soft breaths and Nora sweetheart Nora Jesus Christ until Nora looks up at him and murmurs coyly, “Come for me, cowboy,” and half a breath later, Jake finishes in her mouth.
She swallows with a smug grin, and Jake swears again, his cheeks darkening.
He drapes an arm over his face and lets out a string of breathless swears that make Nora laugh.
“Are you okay?” Nora asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She stretches out next to him as Jake catches his breath.
“I think I might be dead,” Jake mumbles from under his arm, voice muffled, “but good news, I’m definitely in heaven.” He lifts his arm slightly and looks at her sidelong, slanted green eyes full of suggestion. “You wanna be my plus one?”
Her laugh splits into a gasp as Jake slips a hand between her legs.
The coffee is cold when Nora reaches for it again, finding her breath between sips, resting her head on his flushed, sweat-misted chest, but she can’t bring herself to care. She drinks every single drop.
Saturday comes in a blink, and Nora drags Jake to the farmers market in Little Italy.
Or rather, Nora gets dressed in the morning, trading his oversized button-down for a white shirt and a pair of overall shorts, and starts saying, “So I’m thinking about going to the farmers market if you want…” and Jake immediately grabs his keys, a horseshoe shaped bottle opener dangling from the keychain.
She loves to visit the local markets of new cities as a way to get to know them.
In San Diego, Nora has made a habit of going to the Little Italy Mercato every other weekend to stock up on fresh produce and browse the local art that’s for sale, a whole spread of gorgeous art prints, ceramics, and glassware.
A few weeks back, Nora found a handmade pitcher the color of blue bottle-glass and started filling it with fresh farm-grown flowers ever since. A bright spot of color on her bedroom sill.
It should feel weird that Jake’s there – stepping into this Saturday morning ritual that’s only ever been hers – but it’s actually nice, really nice.
He holds her hand as Nora walks around the street, wandering an aimless zig-zag between the stands, doubling back for the ones that catch her eye.
Her reusable bag grows heavier on her shoulder, slowly filling with fresh fruits and vegetables and even, a heart-shaped bottle of raspberry wine from a Temecula winery, and Nora’s shoulder begins to ache. She moves the bag to her hand and rolls out the minor discomfort in the muscle.
While Nora is distracted at the flower stand, Jake pulls the bag from her loose fingers and swings it over his opposite shoulder and links their hands again.
At first, Nora doesn’t even notice. She is busy sliding her credit card back into her wallet and clicking the no-receipt button on the iPad screen, but the older woman who is wrapping the flowers for her doesn’t miss a thing. She makes enough fuss for the both of them.
“What a nice young man.”
Nora almost snorts. She really wants to laugh, but doesn’t want to accidentally offend the nice woman who has no idea of the effect those words will have on the man behind her. Jake nudges Nora’s hip, biting back a grin, and collects the expertly-wrapped bouquet from the vendor.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Jake drawls with a dimpled smile so sugar-sweet that Nora could spoon it into a bottle and use it to sweeten her coffee in the morning. Asshole.
She looks at him sideways, and Jake is already looking at her, a victorious lift to his mouth, like You see? See the sweet old lady who thinks I’m nice?
As Nora wades back into the crowd, a little flushed, Jake leans down and says, “Hear that? I’m a nice young man,” right against her ear.
Now, Nora does laugh.
“Debatable,” she says.
He laughs. His breath is warm on the side of her neck, and Nora feels his lips brush against her skin, against her hair, for the briefest moment. Shorter even, barely even a blink.
It’s a cloudless morning, but Nora holds back a shiver.
I could kiss him, she absently realizes. She wouldn’t have to do anything more than turn her head, maybe raise her chin, and she would be kissing him. She can just do that now.
She slows at the realization, but Jake is smiling, sun-bright, and asks, “You hungry?”
She feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with the summer breeze, the late morning sun on her freckling shoulders and cheeks. She basks in the feeling, in the buzz of a beautiful Saturday morning that’s brought half of San Diego out into the sunshine.
Her stomach grumbles, and Nora nods.
“Come on, I know just the place,” Jake says.
His hand slips out of hers to find the small of her back as Jake leads her out of the crowd.
Back on Coronado Island, Jake drives along Orange Ave for a while before pulling into the parking lot of a cute diner called Starboard Side.
This must be the place Jake mentioned on the Fourth, Nora realizes, where he wanted to take her on a date.
She is smiling to herself when Jake opens the blue door for her.
It’s the very definition of charming. Sun-soaked and eclectic with deep blue wallpaper on one end of the diner – covered in a nautical pattern of anchors, ships, and ocean waves – and wood paneling on the other, painted a bright sunflower yellow.
She steps around a cluster of people who are waiting around the made-to-order coffee counter, either waiting for their order or waiting for one of the blue stools along the counter to be available, and Jake leads her to a booth in the corner.
“This is the best booth in here. It’s got the best window,” Jake says firmly and also in a way that makes her feel like he is waiting for her to agree with him, like a puppy waiting to be patted on the head. Like Jake picked out the best booth in the diner to impress her.
It’s equal parts endearing and ridiculous, which somehow makes it all the more endearing.
Smiling, Nora slides in across from him, the sun-bleached vinyl under her legs warm against her bare skin. “It’s beautiful. Do you come here a lot?”
“I’ve been coming here for years,” Jake answers, “since I was first at Top Gun. It’s the perfect amount of miles from the base for a morning run so I’d run here and back and carb load in between. Do you like pancakes or waffles?”
“Who do you think I am? Pancakes, of course,” Nora says, and Jake’s smile crinkles the corners of his eyes.
“They’ve got really good pancakes.”
He slides a laminated menu across the checkered table and points to one of the dishes in the Starboard Combos section, and as Nora follows along with his recommendation, walking her through his go-to orders, her hair slips into her face.
It’s been everywhere all morning, a little wild from the warmth of the day, a little windswept from the sea salt breeze coming off the ocean, frizzing and curling around her shoulders. She almost got fed up and braided it on the drive here, but all morning, Jake has been playing with the loose strands of blonde hair, absentmindedly reaching over and running it between his fingers on the Coronado Bridge, brushing it back from her face in the market check-out line when Nora’s hands were too full to do it herself.
He’d been doing it in bed too, curling a strand around his finger and complimenting the smell of her shampoo.
Every easy and casual touch sends a little thrill dancing through her stomach so Nora left it down.
She sweeps it over her shoulder and studies the menu.
A smiling waitress comes by to grab their orders and flits over to collect a stack of dirty dishes from the next table over, a spiral notepad tucked into the band of her brightly colored apron. She returns a few minutes later to set down their coffees and is gone again.
It’s just them now. Just them again.
She stirs the coffee with a metal spoon, oversized ice cubes clinking gently against the sides of the wide-mouth jar. She licks the sugar from the spoon and sets it back down on a paper napkin and watches him.
He rests his cheek on his open palm, curving his other hand around the chipped handle of the baby blue diner mug and watches her back.
He ordered his coffee with cream and sugar and his eggs sunny side up, and Nora snatches up those little shining details like a magpie. She adds them to the picture of him in her mind.
He likes his coffee a little sweet. He likes pancakes. He likes her.
A golden beam of sunlight slants through the large window at their side, the best window in the whole diner. It’s almost noon, and in the afternoon light, Jake looks relaxed and thoughtful, edges softened, all dimples and laugh lines.
She notices a small hole in the collar of his shirt – barely even noticeable – and Nora latches onto that small imperfection like a lifeline, proof that Jake isn’t something Nora dreamed up. He’s real, heart-achingly so.
“So…” Nora says.
“So…” Jake echoes.
So…
So, what does this mean?
So, what do people talk about on first dates that feel like fifth, sixth, seventh dates?
So so so.
“So,” Nora says again. A complete sentence. She rests her chin on her interlaced fingers, mimicking his posture, half leaned forward, shoulders relaxed. “I have a question for you, Texas.”
His lips quirk. “Yeah? What kind of question?”
She dips her chin, lips pursed against a smile. “A very important one.”
A dimple springs up in his cheek as Jake drawls, “Hit me, Hollywood,” in a voice full of Texas.
“What is…” Nora reaches for her coffee. Draws out the suspense. “…your favorite movie?”
The corner of his mouth kicks up, and Nora narrows her eyes.
“Careful now. There are wrong answers here.”
“I’m not worried, sweetheart,” Jake replies with a casual sip of coffee, sprawling posture matching his words. “That’s an easy one. It’s Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Robert Redford and Paul Newman. Got anything harder for me?”
Asshole, Nora thinks with affection.
A cowboy movie for a cowboy. Of course.
And Nora lets out an approving, “Good movie,” instead of damn.
Because maybe, just maybe if Jake had god awful taste in movies – like, I respect you less as a person now bad – Nora could pour sand over the sparks that kick to life in her chest whenever Jake’s arm so much as brushes against hers. Damn damn damn.
And Jake’s smile is a little smug, a little knowing. “You like that I like good movies, don’t you? It kinda turns you on.”
“I’m not answering that,” Nora says, which might as well be an answer, and Jake’s grin sharpens.
She pointedly ignores him, cheeks warm, and sips her coffee. “Is there a story there? Or are you really that much of a cowboy?”
He makes a noncommittal sound, not ignoring the question, not answering either.
This is a date, not an interview, Nora reminds herself. She doesn’t push.
He brings the mug to his lips and asks, “What about you? What’s yours?”
“Oh, I – ” Nora makes a face. “I don’t know if I have one.”
Shaking his head, Jake shoots her a disbelieving look. “You’re not getting out of this one, Hollywood, not a chance. You have to have one.”
Nora laughs. “I don’t know. It’s all just so subjective. I like a lot of movies for a lot of different reasons.” She gestures to him. “I mean, don’t you? Doesn’t everyone?”
“Sure,” Jake says slowly, “but you must have a favorite.”
“That’s what I’m saying. A movie can be a favorite for any number of reasons, like, if you see a movie at the exact right time or maybe, with the exact right person or both, and it’s almost like the movie found you and not the other way around.”
A half-smile forms on his face as Jake listens to her.
“It’s hard to pick one favorite. How do you compare that – that raw emotional experience – with a movie that’s objectively very good from a craft perspective?”
“You tell me, sweetheart,” and Jake chuckles when Nora gives him a look. “Alright, what about two movies?”
“Two?”
“Yeah.” He holds up two fingers. “Pick two favorites.”
Two favorites. She can probably do two.
Thinking for a moment, Nora says, “When Harry Met Sally. One, because it’s amazing movie and the best rom-com of our time, obviously.”
She waits expectantly until Jake echoes, obviously, with a smile.
“Two, because I watched it in high school with my mom. I was supposed to go to this pool party that a girl in my grade was throwing for her birthday, but I got super sick, and I was so upset. It was like, all I’d been looking forward to that week. My mom canceled her plans and stayed in with me.” She smiles at the memory. “We spent the whole night on the couch, eating pizza and watching a Meg Ryan marathon on cable. It’s been a favorite of mine ever since.”
Gaze warm, Jake absorbs this with a nod. “What’s your second favorite?”
“Ocean’s Eleven,” Nora answers without hesitation. “I was obsessed with George Clooney when I was a kid. I once wrote him a letter and asked him to be my step-dad. He never got back to me, unfortunately.”
His laugh lights up his whole face. “God, of course you did. How’d your mom feel about that?”
“She would’ve gotten on board. It’s George Clooney,” Nora says simply, like it’s obvious.
His foot brushes against hers underneath the table, his ankle slotting into the space between hers, and something about it feels so intimate that Nora almost shivers.
After a moment, Jake offers, “I saw Butch and Sundance with my dad.”
An answer to a question Nora didn’t ask out loud.
Surprised, Nora pauses. “Your dad?”
A nod as Jake runs his hand over his nape. “Austin had this retro movie theater that used to play old movies on Saturday and Sunday mornings for real cheap, like five bucks, maybe even less back then. My football practice got rained out one weekend, and for once, my dad wasn’t working so we went to see Butch and Sundance. It’s probably the best afternoon I ever had with him.” A fraction of the seriousness washes from his face as Jake winks and adds, “And I’m that much of a cowboy, sweetheart. You should see my Stetson collection back home.”
A charmed smile pulls at her mouth, and Nora chooses her words carefully. “You’ve never mentioned your dad before.”
One of his shoulders rises and falls. “We’re not close. He was kind of an asshole even then, always on me about every little mistake I’d make during games, every A-minus that should’ve been an A. He only got meaner as I got older.” He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “My parents split up when I was in high school. He was a real dick to my mom during the divorce, so I don’t see him unless I have to now.”
“My dad’s an asshole too,” Nora says. “George Clooney would’ve been much better.”
Jake laughs, and Nora smiles, kind of proud of herself.
The waitress comes back with their food, and Nora slides the plate of blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs in front of her. She carefully unrolls her knife and fork and sets the napkin across her lap. She doesn’t want any crushed blueberry stains on these overalls.
An unladylike sound almost escapes her mouth at her first bite, and Nora closes her mouth around the sound.
“You were right about the pancakes.”
“Of course I was.”
Nora rolls her eyes, and Jake chuckles.
Washing it down with a sip of coffee, Nora says, “You never told me your second favorite movie.”
Jake breaks off a piece of whole-wheat toast and dips it in yellow egg yolk. He pops it in his mouth and grinning around the bite, replies, “You already know my second favorite.”
“I do?” She sets her fork down, already sticky with maple syrup.
He nods, not giving her any hints, waiting for her to catch up with him, to keep up.
She wracks her brain for any movie Nora had ever heard Jake mention. She can’t think of a single one. She's about to fold her cards and ask him to tell her until –
“Oh my god. You’re full of shit.”
“I’m not,” Jake says, amused.
She stares at him, mouth open slightly. “You can’t be serious. Your favorite movies are Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, one of the best Westerns of all time, which has been preserved by the Library of Congress for being culturally significant, and – ”
“How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” Jake finishes with a grin. He cocks his head. “What can I say? I love McConaughey.”
His smile splits wide open when Nora bursts out laughing.
After, when Nora is leaving the diner, full of good food, Jake walks ahead of her to check the parking meter, and watching him, Nora has the most disorienting urge to walk over and wrap her arms around him. Press her cheek into the wrinkle of soft heather gray fabric between his shoulder blades. Inhale the smell of his cologne like Nora’s done it a million times before.
This is new, Nora reminds herself. It’s so new.
Except when Jake glances over his shoulder and looks for her, green eyes darting down to run over her bare legs, and smiles, wide and affectionate like he didn’t just spend almost two hours across from her, like he could spend all day looking at her and never get sick of it; nothing about it feels new.
It feels like Nora’s already waist deep, right in the middle of something vast and all-consuming, something bottomless.
And when Jake extends a hand behind him, reaching for her, eyes as green as dew-covered grass, Nora steps into the daylight and links her fingers with his, filling in the gaps, somehow it’s the most natural thing in the whole world.
Two more weeks pass, and Nora’s with Jake more than she’s not.
He sleeps over so often that Nora clears a spot on the bathroom counter for him to leave a spare toothbrush, and likewise, Jake starts to keep her favorite brands of cold brew and creamer in his fridge.
Coffee in bed becomes something of a weekend routine.
Once, in his apartment, Jake brings her coffee in a Lone Star State mug, which looks like one of those souvenir mugs you might find in an airport. It’s covered in a patchwork of orange and light blue doodles: a cowboy hat, a horse, a Sheriff’s star.
“Beth bought it for me when I left for my first deployment,” Jake explains when Nora asks him about the mug, running her fingers over the delicate outlines. “So I’d have something to remind me of home.”
They go on a second date. A third. A fourth.
He finds a dine-in movie theater in La Jolla that’s doing a 90’s Rom Com series all summer and takes her to a 35mm showing of Clueless, listening attentively as Nora explains the difference between digital and film projection in excruciating detail on the drive there, a smile on his face.
On the mornings that Jake doesn’t stay the night, Nora orders an extra coffee – with cream and sugar – from her favorite coffee shops and meets him on the base a half hour earlier than the rest of the Daggers. She kisses him in the quiet of the Ready Room until 8:00 AM rolls around.
It’s all meaningful looks and stolen kisses; late night drives with the windows down, the wind in her hair, his hand on her thigh; rolls of film, not yet developed. It’s something for them, something good.
They keep it under the radar in front of the Daggers.
She’s not worried about them finding out, but Captain Mitchell is an extension of the Daggers, and Nora would really like to keep Aunt Charlie’s ex-boyfriend in the dark about her sex life for as long as possible. Forever, even.
Also, she still has a month left in her contract, and while she’s pretty sure the Naval magazine wouldn’t fire her for sleeping with one of the film subjects in a documentary like this one, she’s not so sure that she wants to put it to the test.
So, for now, under the radar it is.
After the Fourth of July, Javy officially gets his orders to report to Maverick's squadron. He goes back to Lemoore to wrap up some loose ends with his old C.O., and Jake meets him there the next weekend to drive a U-Haul back down.
And Nora emails the magazine and lets them know that the documentary will have one more Dagger.
Nora has more than enough time to weave him into the narrative of the film, and anyway, Javy is an official member of the squadron now. He is as much part of the story of the squadron as the other Daggers.
Plus, Nora hasn’t forgotten how excited Javy was about the film. It’ll be seamless, her version of rolling out the red carpet for him.
On his second day, Nora pulls him aside between drills and sits him down in front of the camera.
It’s a good interview, which doesn’t surprise her in the slightest. He’s a lot like Jake in that way, effortlessly funny and charismatic with a glowing movie star smile. Her cheeks hurt from smiling by the end of the interview, completely and thoroughly charmed.
After, Nora walks back to the Ready Room with him, and Javy asks, “How was that?”
“Super good,” she tells him. He holds the door open for her, like a gentleman, and with a smile, Nora crosses the threshold ahead of him, looking at him over her shoulder. “No, but really, it was great. You’re a natural.”
On the couch, Jake grumbles, “I thought I was a natural,” and Nora swats at him on her way past.
Everyone gathers at the Jake’s apartment later that night to eat some pizza and watch a movie.
Nora is curled up on the opposite end of the couch as Jake with an unsuspecting Bob between them. At one point, Jake looks around the room and stretches his arm casually over the back of the couch, and Nora feels him fiddling with the end of her braid.
She hides her smile in her next sip of white wine.
She is peacefully watching the movie, drinking the wine and sharing a bowl of extra-butter popcorn with Bob when Natasha comes back from the bathroom and plops down on the carpet again with a smirk on her face.
“Hangman.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s nice of you to host and all, but next time, if you’re going to leave your bedroom door open, can you tell your girlfriend not to leave her underwear on the floor?”
Nora chokes.
A popcorn kernel shoots into her airway, and Nora coughs into her wine.
Jake subtly drops his arm behind the couch, letting go of her hair.
Looking down at Natasha, Jake raises his brows, like oh, who, me?, and smiles a familiar cat-like smile, unbothered and calm. “Sure, Phoenix. I’ll pass along the message.”
It’s immediately obvious that Natasha expected him to say anything but that.
She gapes at him, and meanwhile, Nora wishes it was possible to elbow Jake through Bob.
She curls further into the armrest and swallows a mouthful of wine that’s almost too much, wine dribbling out of the side of her mouth and onto her shirt.
What happened to under the radar?
And when did Nora leave his apartment without her underwear?
Is she wearing underwear now?
She pats her hip under the guise of smoothing out a wrinkle in her sweat shorts. All clear.
Natasha spends the last 30 minutes of Ocean’s Eleven grilling him – and when Jake smiles that infuriating plastic smile and doesn’t reveal anything, pivoting to Javy – about whether Jake does, in fact, have a girlfriend while Nora pretends to be engrossed in the movie and not eavesdropping.
“Wow, so Danny gets the money and the girl in the end. Good for him,” Nora says.
Bob gives her an odd look. “Haven’t you seen this movie before?”
She reaches for her wine again as a diversion, only to find the glass empty. Goddammit.
When Natasha is still in interrogation mode during the credits, Nora gathers the plates from the living room and escapes to the kitchen, hoping to hide in there until Natasha has even given up or gotten bored.
And knowing her, the latter is far more likely than the former.
Her peace ends about 30 seconds later when Bradley follows her.
He leans against the counter and unrolls the bag of cheese balls that Nora just clipped shut. Tosses one into his mouth. He grins at her knowingly, and Nora narrows her eyes at him in warning.
Don’t say a damn word.
Still, Bradley observes, “You followed my advice, Rogers.”
He’s not loud, but Bradley’s not exactly quiet by nature.
She sends a nervous glance into the other room and hisses, “We’re not doing this right now.”
She dumps the crumbs and uneaten pizza crusts into the garbage and stacks the dishes next to the sink. Turns on the sink to give them a little more privacy because if Nora knows him, Bradley has never left well enough alone in his life.
“Fine.” He knocks back a handful of cheese balls like a shot of vodka and dusts his hands off in a shower of orange crumbs. Nora looks between him and the roll of paper towels at his elbow with a scrunched brow. He doesn’t seem to notice and barrels on, “But listen, as a friend, can I ask you for something?”
“What?” Nora deadpans.
“Can I have like a 10 minute warning before you tell Hangman we slept together? I’d like to protect the goods.”
He gestures to his face, but Nora has a feeling Bradley also wants to protect something else.
She stifles a laugh. “He’s not gonna punch you for something that happened five years ago.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Except I do know that because I already told him.” She points to the counter behind him. “Can you hand me that bowl?”
He pauses mid-crunch and doesn’t move. “You told him?”
She sighs and reaches around him for the chip bowl herself. “Yes, Bradshaw, I told him.”
“And Hangman didn’t punch me?”
“Guess not.”
“I feel like I should be offended.”
She stares at him, incredulous. “Did you want him to punch you?”
“That’s not the point, Nora,” Bradley says, exasperated, like Nora is the one who’s being ridiculous here. “I can’t believe you told him without telling me. How’d he take it?”
“He didn’t care,” Nora says. She squirts dish soap onto a sponge and scrubs the potato chip grease from the bowl. “He actually thought it was funny.”
She suspected that Javy might’ve said something to his best friend about their conversation at the roller rink, and Nora didn’t want any lingering suspicions to turn into something bigger than the truth, something that might affect Jake or Bradley in their already high-risk jobs.
So Nora told him.
He seemed surprised at first.
And then, Jake laughed.
He laughed so hard that Nora hit him with a pillow to get him to stop.
“You and Bradshaw?” Jake chuckled. “You’re so out of his league, sweetheart. Jesus.”
“We were both drunk, okay?” Nora exclaimed. She felt a certain amount of protectiveness over her 24-year-old self and her weakness for men with big arms and sad eyes. Really, who could blame her? “He was older and hot and sad and – Would you stop laughing at me?”
“Funny,” Bradley repeats flatly.
Her lips twitch. “He asked if I’d always been passionate about volunteering with the elderly.”
A cheese ball rolls down his chest and under the fridge, and Nora bites the inside of her cheek.
Bradley purses his lips. “Now I feel like I should punch him.”
Eventually, Natasha decides that Jake must be messing with her – “Hangman couldn’t possibly be dating someone. He can never shut up. We’d all know about her.” – and Nora manages to make it out of the night unscathed with the rest of the Daggers none-the-wiser.
(Except Javy, who gives her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder on his way out.)
A week later, Nora is working late in the Ready Room.
She is leaning on her elbow with god-awful computer posture – one knee pulled up on the chair, a mist of sweat on her brow from the heat – and Jake pops in to the room to let her know that the Daggers are headed to the Hard Deck for an after-work drink.
“You gonna be much longer?” Jake asks. “Want me to wait for you?”
He sets his chin on her shoulder, watching her fingers move across the keyboard, kissing a spot underneath her ear that usually makes her brain go back, usually makes her sigh and melt into him, but Nora stays strong.
It’s just this one last thing.
She blows out a grounding several-seconds-long breath to keep herself focused.
“I’m almost done,” Nora replies evenly, impressively evenly, actually, “so don’t distract me.”
His lips pull into a grin against the side of her neck.
For his part, Jake doesn’t say anything else. He gives her space, leaning against the window, and watches her in silence.
She saves one last file, and once the external hard drive is properly ejected, Nora slams the laptop shut. She spins around to look at him, her elbows on the back of the chair, and Jake has his arms folded across his chest, looking effortless and handsome and effortlessly handsome in his black shirt.
Her lip catches between her teeth.
“Hi,” Nora breathes.
Expression soft, Jake says back, “Hi, sweetheart.”
“How was your day? Good?”
He nods. “You?”
She does the same, a dip of her chin.
Evening sun pierces through the open blinds, drenching the room in a copper hue and making it at least five degrees warmer, if not more, and Nora looks him over in the glow. Drinks him in like an Old Fashioned. Her favorite drink.
They’ve been talking a lot about those lately. Favorites.
Favorite movie. Favorite song. Favorite time of day.
When Harry Met Sally. Gold Dust Woman by Fleetwood Mac. That moment right before sunset when the whole sky and ocean turns pink.
She’s starting to realize Jake might be one of her favorites too.
She motions him closer, crooking her finger, and Jake bends indulgently, eyes bright.
She reaches for him. Coasts her palm along the slope of his chin, the cut-glass curve of his cheek, the prickle of stubble on his strong jawline.
She kisses him on the cheek and rests her lips there. Mumbles against his skin, “You could use a shave, cowboy.”
She feels him smile, feels the muscles in his face stretching and working.
“You don’t like the stubble, sweetheart?”
Nora actually does like the stubble. He looks a little more rugged, a little more like a cowboy. She can imagine him on a ranch in Texas, a sunburn on his broad shoulders, riding horses in his real-leather cowboy boots and his real-denim jeans, tipping his Stetson at her with a wink and a broad grin on his ride. She might like it a little too much.
“Well,” Nora drawls, “I didn’t say that.”
As Nora pulls back with a grin of her own, Jake catches her chin between his index and thumb and kisses her.
It’s such a good kiss that for a moment, Nora lets herself forget everything else.
She lets herself forget their surroundings; let herself forget the afternoon she spent making a list of gaps in the footage because she has less than fourteen days to fill them in, less than fourteen days left here.
She lets herself forget the rising number of unanswered emails in her inbox and her one-way plane ticket back to New York at the end of the month.
She lets herself forget anything that isn’t Jake’s hands on her hips, urging her to her feet and pushing her back against the table, hands sneaking under the hem of her shirt, and Nora’s hands in his hair, tousled from the wind and a little damp from his post-flight shower, smelling like soap and jet fuel.
She loses herself in him, in this.
A door creaks open, and she doesn’t even notice.
“Are you still here, Nora? Phoenix wanted me to ask if…”
All of the air rushes out of Bob mid-sentence.
He makes a noise like a punctured balloon – a kind of stunned Oh! sound – and quickly shuts the door again.
Nora breaks away from the kiss, but Bob’s long gone now, picture frames rattling in his wake.
“Oh… Oh my god.” Nora puts her hands over her face and lets out a panicked laugh into her palms. “What are the odds I could ask him not to tell anyone?”
“Slim to none,” Jake replies helpfully. “He’s probably already told Phoenix by now.”
“No way. It’s been like 30 seconds. How….” She grabs her phone, and not four seconds later, an incoming call from Natasha pops up on the screen. She presses decline with a startled sound and drops her phone back on the desk, like it’s a snake that bit her.
What the hell? Are Bob and Natasha telepathically linked?
Jake laughs. He looks far too smug for Nora’s liking.
She squints up at him. “And what exactly are you smiling about? I could get fired.”
She’s not really going to get fired, but she is feeling dramatic enough to say it anyway.
“You’re not gonna get fired,” Jake fires back without missing a beat. He hooks a finger in her belt loop and pulls her closer. “And I’m smiling because as much as I’ve liked having you all to myself these past few weeks…” A deliberate kiss against the column of her throat as Jake slides his palm up the same path. A breathy sigh. “... I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be happy to not have to sneak around anymore. Now, I’ll be able to kiss you anytime I want.”
“Is that a Sweet Home Alabama refer– oh?”
He cuts her off with another kiss, leg sliding between hers and up, his hand around the front of her throat.
It’s a long while before Nora packs up.
She’s only been at the Hard Deck for a few minutes when Bob comes over, looking sheepish, and apologizes with an Old Fashioned in hand.
“I’m sorry, Nora, I should’ve knocked,” Bob says, his shoulders rounded, contrite. “And I’m sorry I immediately told Phoenix.” A pause, and Bob’s cheeks redden a little. “And Fanboy and Payback and also, Rooster and Coyote, but both of them already knew.”
Nora laughs. “Jesus, Bob, I didn’t realize you were such a gossip.”
His blush deepens. “I’m sorry. I really thought everyone knew but me, but I guess Rooster and Coyote were the only ones.”
“It’s okay. We weren’t being very discreet,” Nora admits. She accepts the Old Fashioned with a forgiving squeeze of his arm. “Is Natasha mad? Like on a scale of 1 to Witness Protection?”
He pulls a face. “I think, more than anything, Phoenix is more mad she wasn’t the first one to figure it out. She’s also pissed Rooster knew and didn’t tell her.”
“I’ll let him take the heat for this one,” Nora says conspiratorially.
Bob smiles. “Probably a smart move.”
She kills the next half-hour and change at the pool table with Jake.
He’s apparently taken not sneaking around anymore to mean have his hands on her at all times. He stands too close and slips a hand into the back pocket of her jeans while Nora is trying to take her turn. Cheater.
Natasha comes over in the middle of a game, nursing a Blue Moon.
She stands at Nora’s side and looks down at the game. “I guess I should’ve known,” she says in the matter-of-fact tone of someone who has processed their surprise. “He’s always staring at you lately. You were either hooking up or in desperate need of a restraining order.”
“Jury’s still out on the restraining order,” Nora replies dryly and smiles when an eavesdropping Jake looks up sharply. He meets her gaze and shakes his head, a smirk hanging from the corner of his mouth.
A wrinkle between her brows, Natasha asks, “Is it pretty casual? Or are you guys like, dating now?”
“No,” Nora answers while at the exact same time, Jake calls, “Yes.”
A swooping feeling fills her stomach.
They haven’t used that word yet. Dating.
Dating has weight. Implications that Nora isn’t prepared to deal with right now.
Like, if they’re dating, what happens when she leaves?
And yet, foolishly, Nora really likes the sound of it.
She wrinkles her nose but doesn’t correct him, and Jake grins, like he’s won something.
Natasha observes this interaction with vague fascination.
“I’ll let you two figure that one out.” Natasha hoists herself onto a barstool, legs dangling, and nods to Jake. “I’ve got the next game with you, Nora. Hangman’s been hogging you over here.”
She and Natasha play a couple of games – first alone and then, against an overconfident pair of ensigns fresh from the Naval academy who wander over to hit on them. They win 40 bucks each off of them and send them packing.
And when Jake wraps his arms around her shoulders from behind, grinning lips pressed against her cheek, Nora spins around and kisses him on the mouth and doesn’t give a damn who sees.
On the last Friday of the month, Nora sends off the last few files and pieces of footage and organizes a wrap party for the documentary.
She loves this part of the filmmaking process – after weeks, months of work, a moment of pause and celebration and achievement. It’s such a singular and special experience to create something from start to finish, and Nora wants the Naval aviators have the chance to share in that moment with her. See what the last eight weeks have been for.
Captain Mitchell ends the day a few hours early and gathers the Naval aviators in the room where Nora first introduced herself to them all of those weeks ago.
A sharp sense of deja vu washes over her as Nora finds herself at the front of the room once again, eight weeks older. She’s not looking out on a group of half-acquaintances, practical strangers, watching her with caution and curiosity. These are her friends. She sees nothing but excitement and anticipation in their eyes.
It’s always a bittersweet feeling, and Nora pushes down the overwhelm that rises in her chest, sticking to the sides of her throat. She swallows hard.
Bradley cups his hands around his mouth and calls, “Speech! Speech! Speech!”
She exhales a laugh, relaxing. “I do have a little speech. More of an introduction, actually.” She links her fingers and holds them in front of her stomach to give herself something to do with her hands. “Making something like this is never easy. It’s almost always disruptive, but I felt so welcome here. You made it feel easy.”
She continues, “I’m only contracted as the filmmaker so I’m not doing the final edit of the film, but I didn’t want to send it off into post-production without showing you something that represents your hard work and dedication. You’ve volunteered a lot of your time to this project. It’s as much your achievement as mine.” She plugs in her laptop and pulls up the video and smiles. “I have a few minutes of footage for you.”
A chorus of whoops and cheers, and Nora presses the play button.
Text appears on the black screen as Nora quietly sits down.
On March 3, 1969, the UNITED STATES NAVY established an elite school for the top one percent of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the LOST ART OF AERIAL COMBAT and to ensure that the handful of men (and now women) who graduated were the BEST FIGHTER PILOTS IN THE WORLD. They succeeded.
The Navy calls it Fighter Weapons School. You might know it better as TOP GUN.
A video of Captain Mitchell fades in, and Bradley claps loudly and shouts, “Let’s go, Mav!”
Natasha shushes him – and maybe punches him in the shoulder because Bradley lets out a pained groan.
“These men and women,” Captain Mitchell says on the screen. “This squadron. There’s never been a squadron like this one in the history of the Naval aviation.” He fades to voice-over over a rapid-fire reel of in-air footage: Jets cut through the blue skies at impossible speeds, perform incredible high-speed maneuvers, again and again and again. A black screen as Captain Mitchell declares, “These are the best fighter pilots on the planet.”
A small smile dances on Nora’s lips, anticipating.
What follows is a straight-forward but effective pattern.
Each Dagger appears on the screen and says their call sign, and Nora clipped something from their interview – a good anecdote, a particularly memorable quote – with footage of them in the air or b-roll of them on the base.
On the screen, Jake – Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, reads the lower-third – flashes a 1000-watt smile to the side of the camera, and Nora smiles despite herself. He was looking at her. She remembers it so vividly, sitting there, pretending not to be charmed by him, pretending not to want him.
Next to her, Jake leans over and whispers, “You remember when you told me you didn’t like me after this?”
“Shut up,” Nora whispers back, smiling.
He grows closer, lips brushing her ear. “Now, why would I? We both know how much you love to shut me up, sweetheart.”
A rose pink blush spreads across her cheeks, and Jake chuckles.
Behind him, Natasha kicks his chair. “Zip it, Hangman. Stop flirting during my big moment.”
And Natasha’s JUST loud enough that Captain Mitchell hears.
He looks over with a frown. His gaze snags on where Hangman’s arm hangs ever-so-casually over the side of his chair, his pinky finger brushing against the side of Nora’s hand.
Pete Mitchell huffs out an amused exhale and shakes his head and thinks about all of the improbably and impossible ways that history seems to repeat itself. He looks over his shoulder and spots a familiar figure, slipping into the back of the room unnoticed. He nods to them and directs his attention back to the screen.
A short round of applause breaks out at the end of the video, and Nora beams.
She does a little half-bow at Natasha’s insistence.
“Thank you. You can stop now,” Nora laughs. She collects her laptop from the podium and holds it against her chest. “A military base isn’t the best place for a real wrap party, but Penny’s been kind enough to host us at her house tonight so I’ll see you all there, but while I’m here and still on the clock, any last questions?”
A beat of silence.
A familiar voice rings out from the back of the room.
“Can I ask one?”
Shock burns down the length of her spine, a sparked fuse of a stick of dynamite, and Nora straightens.
“What the fuck?” spills out of her mouth. She gapes. “Charlie?”
Standing in front of the red-and-blue Fighter Weapons School emblem, a leather bomber around her shoulders, a pair of aviator sunglasses in her graying curls, Charlie looks like one of her old photo albums come to life. A wide smile stretches across her face, making her look three decades younger.
What? How? And again, what?
“Last I checked,” Charlie says with a smooth smile. She nods to Captain Mitchell. “Maverick.”
“Charlie.” He doesn’t sound surprised. “Good to see you again.”
Nora is mostly definitely surprised. Stunned. “But… Charlie, what’re you doing here?”
Charlie leans against the back wall, arms crossed, effortlessly cool.
“Pete here was kind enough to let me know about the wrap party, and I thought, what the hell? Maybe I should take one of those vacation days the Pentagon is always on me about.” Her expression softens as Charlie takes her in. “It’s good to see you, sweetie.”
Charlie’s here. She’s here.
Nora blinks rapidly.
And promptly bursts into tears.
Half an hour later, Nora is sitting at a high top in a secluded corner of the hotel bar where Charlie is staying.
She orders an Old Fashioned from the waiter, and Charlie orders a glass of Pinot Noir and swirls the maroon wine around in her glass like a seasoned professional. Nora’s never really understood the point of doing that – something about letting the wine breathe – but it does make Charlie look pretty sophisticated.
Then again, with her red lips and her Grace Kelly curls, Charlie always looks pretty sophisticated.
She sips her wine, lipstick un-smudged, and studies Nora over the glass.
Nora prepares herself for the inevitable barrage of questions.
Something along the lines of, So what happened? Did you lose your phone? or maybe, Why did you start crying in the middle of the Naval base like a certified head case? Both of which are fair enough questions.
Bob was the first one to recover from his alarm and procured a packet of Kleenex from one of the pockets of his flight suit. He offered her one with a sympathetic smile, and Nora blew her nose with a grateful nod.
To his credit, Captain Mitchell snapped into action and quickly ushered the rest of the Daggers out of the room.
“Let’s give them some privacy,” Nora heard Captain Mitchell say as Charlie wrapped her in a hug. His voice grew a little sterner, a little harder. “You too, Hangman. Let’s go.”
She opened her wet eyes, and Captain Mitchell had his hand on Jake’s shoulder, but Jake was looking at her, concern plain on his face, his lips downturned.
She gave him a watery smile, and Jake’s shoulders visibly relaxed.
He was still the last one out of the room.
Now, Charlie looks her over and comments brightly, “You’ve got some color in your cheeks. Are you spending a lot of time on the beach?”
She blinks. That’s… not a question Nora was expecting.
“They put me up in an apartment right on the beach, and the Daggers like to go down to North Beach and play volleyball and football, so I hang out with them sometimes.”
“You play football?” Charlie asks, skeptical and amused.
“I read.”
“Ah. Of course. Anything good?”
What is happening right now? “Yeah, sure, I guess.”
“Good.”
Charlie drinks her wine and doesn’t ask anything else.
Nora stares at her. “Charlie?”
“Hm?”
“Aren’t you going to ask?”
“No.”
She almost laughs. “No?”
“No,” Charlie repeats simply. She flags down the waiter and points to the appetizers on the Happy Hour menu. “Excuse me. Could we get an order of the whipped ricotta and then, the truffle parmesan fries? You can charge it to my room. Thanks, hon.”
Nora stares at her aunt like she’s been body snatched, and Charlie sighs.
“Listen,” Charlie starts. “You haven’t called me in weeks so clearly, whatever you’ve got going on is something you’re not ready to share with me right away, and if I know you at all – and I like to think I do – I know I’ll get absolutely nowhere if I push you.” She picks up her glass and swirls it again. “So, we’ll get a couple of drinks and split some appetizers, and when you’re ready, you can tell me what’s going on.”
They do exactly that.
Nora orders a second drink and spreads honey-drizzled ricotta across pieces of baguette and fills Charlie in on the last eight weeks, every minuscule and probably uninteresting detail about the documentary and the squadron. She does, however, gloss over a few crucial details about Jake, as is her right as guaranteed by the Fifth amendment. She’s also not quite sure how to explain it herself.
And eventually, when her drink is down to ice and the bread down to crumbs, Nora tells her aunt what’s going on.
And Charlie listens.
She listens to everything.
Every doubt and fear. Every uncertainty that’s been weighing Nora down for the past year and a half, making her feel like she’s caught in a bear trap, like she can’t move, like she can’t breathe.
Admitting all of these big and all-consuming feelings to Charlie is scary and freeing in equal measures, but in the end, where there was once a pit in her stomach, she feels relief. She feels one breath closer to the surface.
When Nora is done, her mouth is dried out. She chugs half a glass of water.
And almost spits it all back out when Charlie’s first words are: “So why don’t you quit?”
“What?” Nora asks, more of a stunned syllable than a question.
“If you don’t want to do it anymore,” Charlie says plainly, “don’t.”
Her brows are high on her forehead as Nora asks, bewildered, “So what? Give up?”
“I didn’t say give up,” Charlie sighs, and it brings Nora back to her teen years when Charlie would accuse her of being difficult on purpose. “I said quit.”
“They feel like the same thing.”
“They’re not.”
She bites her lip and looks over Charlie’s shoulder and out of the window.
“Isn’t it like…” Nora blows out a breath. “If I quit now, isn’t it like I’m flushing six years of my life down the drain?”
Charlie shrugs. “You still did a lot in those six years. Changing your mind doesn’t take away from any of those accomplishments, but now, maybe it’s time for you to do something else, something you like more. Start over.”
Nora sits back. “You say it like it’s simple. Easy.”
“It might not be easy. It most likely won’t be, but it is that simple, yes.”
Words catch in her throat, and when Nora says it out loud, her voice sounds small. “I’m scared.”
Her aunt’s face softens. She reaches across the table and cups Nora’s hand.
“You’re allowed to be scared. Everyone’s scared.”
She blows out a shaky breath to keep herself from crying again, but a slight crack in her voice gives her away. Damn. “Yeah? When’s the last time you were scared you couldn’t do something?”
God. She regrets the words almost immediately.
She sounds childish, petulant, but right now, Nora feels like the 16-year-old who snuck Charlie’s red lipstick from her make-up pouch and got busted because she accidentally put it back uncapped and ruined the inside of the bag. Or like the 21-year-old who ordered an Old Fashioned for her first legal drink because Charlie used to drink them at home and hated it so much that Nora wouldn’t drink another for four more years.
Like all Nora ever wants to be is someone that Charlie can be proud of.
All of the sudden, Charlie looks very far away. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared than when your mom died. She made being a parent look so easy, and I got to be the cool Aunt Charlie on the sidelines, and then, she was gone, and I was so scared I’d fuck up and undo everything.”
Nora’s eyes burn. “Charlie, I never… You never said anything.”
“Of course not,” Charlie dismisses with a shake of her head, curls bouncing. “You were still a kid. You were grieving. You needed stability, and I knew I had to do my best because sometimes, you’re scared and you do it anyway.”
“Fail with your whole heart,” Nora quotes softly, and Charlie squeezes her hand.
“See I could’ve never come up with something like that, but god, your mom…” Charlie wipes at her eyes with a cloth napkin and smiles. “She was born to be writer. When I got my first interview with the Pentagon, I had less than 24-hours notice. I was living in New York at the time, and I’d need to hop on a train and hope I could find a hotel for the night when I got down there."
"Honestly, I thought about not going, but your mom sat me down and said, ‘Charlotte,’” and Charlie straightens her spine and does her best impression of her sister, “‘You get your bony ass to Grand Central, and I’ll call every damn hotel in DC and find you a room. You got the interview, and now, all you have to do is follow through and take the leap.”
“And you did,” Nora finishes. “You did the interview, got the job, and the rest is history.”
“I did. I followed her advice. I decided that if I was going to fail, I should do it bravely.” Charlie squeezes her hand once more and lets it go. “It’s your turn now, sweetie.”
Nora goes to the bathroom to clean up her mascara and when she comes back, Charlie is signing the check.
She checks her watch. “It’s almost five o’clock. Do you want to head over to Penny’s?”
“Give me one second.” Nora reaches for her purse and pulls out her phone. “I have to call someone back.”
Penny Benjamin lives in a beautiful house in La Jolla that looks like something out of Architectural Digest magazine.
A classic California bungalow with off-white siding and wide blue-trim windows and a garden wrapping around the side, summer green dotted with pinks and yellows and reds; on an elegant cliffside, overlooking the Pacific.
It’s a good half hour from San Diego so when Nora and Charlie arrive, the street is lined with cars.
Last week, Nora asked Admiral Simpson for a full list of everyone who’d been on the base during the making of the documentary and forwarded the names to Penny for the wrap party. When Admiral Simpson asked her why she needed them and she explained – she wanted anyone who’d so much as stood on the tarmac while she’d been filming to be included in the celebration – she could’ve sworn he looked a little impressed.
Still, Nora is surprised to see him in the garden, chatting with Admiral Bates with a beer in his hand, a pretty woman next to him who must be his wife.
“I’m gonna go say hi to Warlock and Cyclone,” Charlie says, patting Nora’s shoulder, and Nora nods and watches her go.
She doesn’t see Penny anywhere so Nora goes into the house and finds her in the kitchen. She gives her a quick hug and hands over a bottle of Prosecco – which Charlie had insisted on stopping for on the drive because Charlie couldn’t possibly show up to her ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s house without an expensive bottle of something.
“What am I?” Charlie asked. “Some kind of asshole?
“Oh, Nora,” Penny gasps, hand fluttering over her heart. “This is your party. You didn’t need to bring me something.”
“Oh please. Charlie’s outside. It’s from both of us,” Nora waves her off as Penny admires the bottle. It was the prettiest one in the store. “Thank you so much for doing this by the way. Your house is so beautiful.”
Now, Penny’s the one to wave her off. “No, no, I was happy to do it. We’ll all miss having you around, even Pete. He probably won’t say it himself, but I’ll say it for him.” Nora smiles widely, and Penny shoos her out of the kitchen. “I’ll open this up and bring it out, but you get your butt outside and enjoy the party.”
Obliging, Nora makes her way back outside.
A makeshift bar is in the middle of the garden, and Nora finds her aunt pouring herself a glass of wine.
“Come on,” Nora nudges. “You can meet some of my friends.”
They make the rounds around the garden. She introduces Charlie to Natasha, who looks as starstruck as Nora has ever seen her.
Shaking her hand firmly, Natasha asks, excited, “You were Maverick’s instruction at Top Gun, right?”
“One of them,” Charlie answers coolly.
“You knew Viper then? And Iceman?”
“I did.”
“So cool,” Natasha breathes, and Bob nudges her with a small, side smile.
“Charlie,” Bradley calls out and rushes over to give her a big hug, lifting her kitten heels off the ground. It’s been a few years since Bradley last saw Charlie so Nora’s not surprised that Bradley and Charlie have a lot of catching up to do. She’s happy to listen and chime in every so often.
Awhile later, Bradley leaves to grab another plate of food, and gaze sweeping across the garden, Charlie turns to Nora and asks, unexpectedly, “Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”
Nora manages not to blush. She raises her brows. “I would if I had one.”
“Really?” Charlie asks, like, Is that the story you’re going with? “Then, who’s that handsome man over there making moon eyes at you?”
Shit.
Nora looks over, and sure enough, even in the middle of a conversation with Javy, Mickey, and Reuben, Jake doesn’t seem to be paying one damn bit of attention to anything coming out of their mouths. His eyes are on her. Always on her.
She bites back a smile. And beckons him over.
He crosses the garden in a few long strides and after Nora introduces him (“This is my aunt, Charlie Blackwood.”), Jake greets her with a nod and an extended hand. “Jake Seresin, ma’am.”
“Jake,” Charlie repeats with recognition. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Finally? Nora frowns slightly. She’s never mentioned him before this afternoon.
His lips part in a wide, charming smile. “Likewise, ma’am.”
Charlie looks amused. “You don’t have to keep calling me ma’am.”
“He’s from Texas,” Nora offers like an explanation, a little too quickly, and Charlie’s arched brow makes her cheeks grow warm. She avoids her eyes, squinting at the horizon and pretending to be fascinated by the gulls over the beach.
Charlie’s not fooled. She smirks and asks, “Texas, huh? What part?”
“Austin,” Jake replies. It’s a visible effort not to add ma’am at the end.
“You don’t say. Did Nora ever tell you that my husband John went to UT Austin?”
A spark lights up his eyes, and Jake seems to be doing fine on his own so Nora leaves him alone to grab another drink in the midst of an in-depth discussion of the Texas Longhorns. She spots Ethan and Chris on her way back and gets pulled into a conversation with them, saying goodbye and wishing them luck in their next projects in case Nora misses them later.
When Nora returns, Jake and Charlie are still talking. She must like him.
Jake smiles at Nora and in his brown sugar voice, says, “I’ll let you enjoy the rest of the evening with your niece, ma’am. She’s pretty spectacular.”
She could kick him. Or kiss him. Or both.
“She is,” Charlie agrees. “Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you.”
She could kick both of them.
When Jake is out of earshot, Charlie comments, “He’s very charming.”
Nora almost laughs. “I know.”
“He likes you.”
She does laugh now. “Believe me, I know.”
“He’s the one who called me,” Charlie adds casually, and Nora whirls on her.
“What? You said Captain Mitchell called you.”
Charlie shakes her head, smiling, a knowing smile. “Pete was the one who forwarded me the invite, but Jake called me.” A chuckle. “He called me ma’am on the phone too.”
She smiles despite herself because of course.
“What’d Jake say? What made you come?” Nora asks.
“He said that you needed me and you probably wouldn’t call me and tell me that outright, but you were having a hard time.” Charlie looks at her sidelong, lips curled at the ends, a dimple in her cheek. “He knows you pretty well, your not-boyfriend.”
Nora looks for him again.
She finds him on the other side of the garden, laughing at something Bradley is saying, hair a golden halo in the summer evening sun. He called Charlie. She never asked, never needed to ask. He just… knew.
And Nora falls a little bit in love with him right then and there; in the same way a little bit of rain falls on your window at the beginning of a mid-August storm.
A preview before an inevitable downpour.
Evening begins to blend into night, and Nora sits on the steps of the porch to watch the sunset.
It’s a good vantage point. She can see everyone and everything.
Bob brought a deck of cards and now, the Daggers are playing a game of Bullshit on a massive picnic blanket that Penny brought outside for them, and Penny’s daughter Amelia sits with them, giggling when Bradley loses and pretends to stomp off.
Nora watches as Charlie goes over to Captain Mitchell and gently puts a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry about Ice. He was a good man.”
Captain Mitchell nods, his mouth a line, emotion crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Thanks, Charlie.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but Nora looks away.
He gave her privacy earlier. She’ll return the favor.
A step creaks behind her, and Nora dips her head back to see Jake.
“Hi cowboy,” Nora greets, and Jake grins down at her.
He drops onto the step next to her, arm stretched behind her.
“How’d it go with Charlie?” Jake asks.
“Good,” Nora says. She rests her chin on her palm, her elbow on her knee, and studies him closely. “She told me that you called her. How’d you even get her number?”
“Bradshaw,” Jake replies. He meets her gaze and holds it, green on blue, sparkling like the ocean. “Seemed like, maybe you needed her.”
Her chest aches, and Nora says softly, “Thank you.”
His wide palm spreads across her leg, fingertips dangling to brush against the inside of her thigh. “How long’s she staying?”
“A week. She changed her flight. She’s flying back to New York with me, instead of D.C.”
Silence falls like an anchor, plummeting to the ocean floor. A muscle works in his jaw, like Jake’s chewing on his next words. “What happens now?”
For her? For them?
She doesn’t have all the answers, but Nora at least has this.
“How do you feel about long distance?” Nora asks, watching him carefully.
A smile flickers on his face as Jake realizes what Nora is asking.
“California to New York? I can probably swing a few flights, cash in some miles.”
She sets her hand over his, fiddling with his fingers. “That’s sweet, but I was actually thinking more like, North Island to here.”
“Here?” He looks confused, adorably so, and Nora holds back a smile.
“Turns out that Charlie has some empty-nester friends here from her Top Gun days. They’re looking to rent out their guest house for the rest of the year. It’s not far from here actually, within walking distance of the beach.” She can feel her heart pounding like Nora’s running a marathon as Jake slowly start to understand. “I turned down the offer, Jake. I’m moving back to California.”
She called Jenna from the hotel bar. She was a little bit annoyed with Nora, understandably.
Her first words were, “Are you kidding me? You waited until now to tell me this?”
But after a few minutes of Nora’s apologetic I know, I’m sorry, I know, Jenna was ultimately supportive.
“Damn, Nora. This is a real loss for our industry, but I’m happy for you. If you never need a connection in Hollywood, call me. I know people who know people.”
And one day, Nora might take her up on that, but right now, Nora needs a break. A real one. And California feels like the right place for her to take one. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it here until she came back.
“You’re staying,” Jake repeats slowly, like Jake’s afraid to believe her.
She reassures him with a nod. “I still have a storage unit back in New York so I have to go back, and I have a few things left at Charlie’s, but Charlie’s coming to help me clean it out and move what I need. And…” Nora drifts off and for once, the uncertainty doesn’t seem so scary. It’s wide open and hopeful.
Jake wipes his hand down his face and sets his hand on his chest, right above his pounding heart, looking utterly relieved. “You’re… god, Hollywood, you’re gonna give a man a heart attack someday.”
“You love it,” Nora teases.
He lifts his chin with his knuckle, holding her gaze. “I really, really do.”
And when Jake kisses her, it feels like maybe he means something else.
Cheeks warm, Nora looks out at the horizon, and it’s that perfect time between day and night when the whole ocean is a watercolor of pale pink and purple. She kisses the carved dimple in his cheek and leans into his strong shoulder, and Jake tucks her under his chin, rubbing his thumb across her palm, over her heart line.
Breathing in the smell of the ocean and him, Nora closes her eyes and catches her breath.
end note: charlie, my beloved. i didn't mean for this to be so long, but i hope you enjoyed 🩵 likes are always appreciated, but comments and reblogs make my whole day. i love hearing from y'all.
want to be tagged in the epilogue? fill out this form!
#about to be crying through the epilogue goodbye#fic: baby i'm high octane#laracrofted writes#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x oc#jake seresin x nora rogers#hangman x oc#hangman fic#hangman smut#jake seresin smut
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
stay grounded pt.3
streamer abby x streamer reader 🌿
[ part 1 ] [ part 2 ] [part 4]
MDI. Things get spicy here <3
not proof read // will check for mistakes later tonight <33
Your favorite class aside from sewing, was without a doubt art classes. First two hours you did still nature with charcoals or pencils and the other two you would draw modeling figures and practice on how you could translate the fabric type you intended on using in your sketch.
You were good at drawing. It came naturally to you and your teachers questioned how did you end up in fashion design and not art college. You were his favorite.
But it had been a week since you saw a sign from Abby and everything was going to hell. Last post she made was a photo of her with Nora in cosplay which only accelerated your spiral. To be fair you hadn’t initiated contact either but that was neither here nor there
“Did you not have time to draw these days ? Your strokes are very messy…” Your teacher said hovering behind you and studying your piece. You would have screamed actually and then cried and then you decided then you would bomb the city
You gave him a curt smile “I had a rough week at work” He sighed in understanding and patted your shoulder “Ah so young and already having to balance all this. I understand its hard. You can take it easy today then” he said and half an hour later came back to give your sketch an empathetic look that looked like constipation.
At the end of the day you rolled up the papers with your pitiful sketches and shoved them in your bag crinkling the edges. You felt stupid for letting someone on the other end of the world affect your life that much. Hell it's been barely a month that she noticed you ( you refused to account for all the other times you tried to get her attention by sending bits or commenting on her chat a year ago and the occasional like left on a post that made it her -for you page- )
You were at the cafe across from your college building sitting on the bar counter in front of the large glass doors sipping on the overpriced cappuccino and biting the rim of your reusable cup.
She got me a ridiculously overpriced statue. That has to amount to something, no?
Then again she did mention to her it wasn’t that different from getting me a cup of coffee…
Your mind went in circles. Did Onlyfans pay her so well that she could mindlessly toss her money left and right? It wouldn’t be such a bizarre concept to be fair. She was after all at the peak of her career with girls begging to see so much as a collar bone. You nibbled on your lower lip fighting the temptation to see her page.
Did she post gym pics ? Did she post more than that?
You went to her page and tapped under her point at the link leading you to another site with all her links. At the very top, sat a square with the short description of
“18+”
You looked around you and tapped the button and waited for the page to load. Your cheeks flushed. Her banner cropped nicely above her collar bones and below her chest where she showed her arms that were the sole focus of the image.
Her profile photo was a dreadfully common gym pic taken on the dirty mirror near the treadmill section. So effortless yet straight to the point of who she was. She knew what her followers wanted, you included. The illusion that she was just your next door neighbour and this your private chat that turned raunchy at night. You hesitated around the subscribe button.
Crossing that line came at the average cost of 20.99 per month. You pulled out your credit card and went to make an undercover account and subscribe to her profile. Hell there was probably no chance of this ever going anywhere so there was no harm in you indulging in a little more and having something to look forward to after class, right? Right.
You took another sip of your coffee deluding yourself that this didn't cause your heartbeat to spike an unhealthy amount and blamed the shakiness of your hands to your drink
Subscribed for 1 month
Came the message and there was an automated response from her account in the mailbox.
I knew I’d find you here ;)
This cocky motherfucker. You clenched your cup and started scrolling your eyes widening in surprise. There were some posts behind a fat paywall starting at 50 euros going up to 100. You occasionally shrugged one shoulder at the more casual posts and then stopped at one particular image of her with a towel low on her hips, topless with the foggy mirror perfectly censoring your chest. You took a screenshot and decided to go light a candle at the local church next Sunday.
The next photo that stopped you and made you forget that breathing was a necessity was one where she was at the beach with grey cargo pants and a tight white top,sleeveless with a wide cut on her front. The white top ,most importantly, hugged her figure not because of an elastic fabric but because it was wet.
You had never seen more beautiful and well shaped tits. You hated how well it all came together and you hated that the wet top did nothing to hide her pierced perky nipples. Of course there were 389 comments below that pic all thirsty and all equally delighted at this new found discovery that Abby had piercings.
You shook your head and exited her page crestfallen and horny. What a powerful combination. Why did you ever even consider having a chance? You were no different from all the other fans flocking to her page and your reaction to those pics were no different than a mans. You crossed your arms and buried your head in the small dip between your body and hands, fighting back tears and thoughts. Reasonably you knew that Abby did not mind how her followers viewed her as you found her often responding to those comments with her very own bold and flirtatious way. You knew that and yet it was hard to undo years of shame for your nature and Abbys sudden radio silence didn't help
_____________
It was ready. You had never worked with so many materials for something so big before but you were proud to say that the knight armor you crafted was stunning and it was a perfect fit on you. With the release of a new game you Wanted to for once be on time with a costume to wear and take some photos. Besides, it was the least you could’ve done with the company giving you early access to the beta of the game a year ago and now sending you the collector's edition free of charge. You snapped a few pics in your bedroom which in itself was fitting of the whole romantic knight fairytale theme. You tried to film a few videos and tried to post on every platform you had and once you were done with that you tossed your phone aside and went to prepare the house for the weekly sleepover that you and your friend group had
Cassie: Hey babe sorry I’m late,Just go in the bus <333
Rick: Do we have the stuff ? Should I bring mine?
You checked a box near your makeup station and opened to see how much you had left. Definitely enough for 2 cigarettes
No need. I got it
June: Open the door shitface I've been buzzing for 10 minutes
Stay there and freeze to death
Came your response and lowered the volume of your music to realize that Indeed June was here. You leaped to your door and buzzed her in leaving the door open to go take off the armor. You tried not to get impatient and ruin it in the process of taking off every garment. The door slid open wider and then shut closed. June was huffing in pain and rested her hand in front of your bedroom watching you change in spite and anger.
“You hate us all and that's why you live in a place without an elevator”
“Nice to see you too” you said with a smile and she hopped over to your side to give you a quick and tight hug
“How are you doing?”
“Shitty but what's new. Someone has to entertain the group chat with their misery” June laughed and walked out of your room to the living room and plopped down on the couch tossing her bag on the floor and grabbing your controller to change the music and connect to her account. She let phone music fill the halls and got up again waiting for you to finish changing.
You quickly threw on a baggy pair of sweatpants and a crop top and walked out with her “So should we order coffee or a drink?”
“Way ahead of you, Cassie got us our usual already and she told me she is almost here”
Few minutes later the buzzer went off and in came Rick “That’s it. I’m giving up on love. She hates me. She absolutely hates me” Behind her Cassie followed with a cardboard containing all of your coffees yelling at her from the staircase all the way to your apartment
“Will you stop it?! She literally told you to meet tomorrow! TOMORROW!”
“Yes but her tone-“
“Her tone was neutral” Rick huffed out upset and went to sit in the living room
“I take it you have updates for us with your infinite crush?” Rick sulked and grabbed her phone to start reading out loud her latest conversation while occasionally laughing at her own jokes.These get-togethers started by happening once every two months to now happening almost every day as your friend group grew close and it always helped you feel lighter and more chipper. Your phone went off with a notification and you nearly screamed.
Staygrounded69: hey
“SHE texted me. Wow I really thought I was about to get ghosted for good”
Everyone snapped their head at you
“What are you waiting for then ? Answer!!” Cassie urged you on with an excited smile. You shot up and went to your kitchen needing to be away from the others as not to embarrass yourself any further
Whats up
You free to hang out for a game?
You hit your head on the table and groaned out loud. Your friends expressed a mess of concerned sentences all asking you in their own way what happened.
“SHe wants to call and play a game”
“GO FOR ITTTTT GO GET SUM GIRL” June screamed and you shook your head
“No I won't cave in that easy”
In the distance you heard Cassie tease “Sure that you won’t do, but having her Onlyfans pic as your lock screen is not above you” and you would have given her a jab on the ribs but decided against it and went type a response
I’m not alone.
Oh?
I have company tonight but we can still chat or something?
Unless you only wanted to play a game then we can hangout tomorrow…
It was embarrassing how desperate for her attention you were. She used at best 3 syllables and here you were meeting the word limit in a school essay. You saw the three dots appear and disappear as Abby considered her response. You leaned back on the stool and checked your nails,pressing at the skin around them mindlessly.
Works for me, how was your week?
She asked and you felt your heart beat loud in your chest and cold sweat run over you. You could not entirely grasp why her giving you the attention that you craved so badly made you so nauseous and so anxious but you brushed it off to you simply having a crush that intense
It was something. Classes were ridiculously slow
Right. You’re still in college ?
Last year but yeah..I study fashion design.You aren’t?
Oh no I still am. Which is why I still vanish. Classes are A true pain in the ass
You smiled,warmth spreading all over your body. You were pacing in the kitchen while exchanging back and forth meaningless info about your day and your general life. You were surprised to know she was the same age as you but that was about as many similarities as the two of you had but that did nothing to falter either interest in the conversation.
Oh Alice just came.
Give her a pat from me <3
And in came a photo. You opened it without hesitation and were quick to keep your finger pressed on the image processing what was in front of you. Alice was comfortably seated between Abbys thighs and her head was snuggly pressed on her leg looking up at the camera. Now whether Alice was in the image or not it didn't matter cause your eyes were stuck on the fact that Abby was only in a black pair of boxer briefs and she did nothing to divert the camera lens away from that fact.
Her arm was starched out patting Alice’s head, her veiny hand on display. You fixated on those long calloused fingers and you almost moaned just at the thought of what they could do.You hated that you couldn’t take a screenshot and cursed igs safety feature of showing the other party when someone did that. You exited the image and tried to think of an answer.
Damn. She is almost in frame
Don't blame me for your wandering eyes babe
You smacked your head on the table with a loud thud and it rumbled in protest,
“You alive cotton?!” Rick called out and the rest chuckled. You checked the time and noticed you had been talking with her for a good two hours at this point and despite wanting to continue the conversation you had to join your friends at some point
“Yeah gimme a few”
Shit You almost made me blush
Almost? Damn. Better luck next time
She said and you let out an awkward half laugh half sigh not believing what you were reading and how well this had gone. You bounced your leg in distress. You were beyond aroused by this attitude. Be it the photos, or her attempting to make a pass at you, you could feel the inevitable burn and ache in your core. You let out a scream and heard a glass fall and rick cough
“The hell?!”
“What happened?!”
“I’m gonna kick you for that what the fuck”
Came their voices in startled unison
Well Ill have to leave you high and dry. My friends are calling me
Go have fun. Talk to you tomorrow ?
Sure :)
They ran into the kitchen expectant and you let out a mumbled
“She said talk to you tomorrow”
You were sure you had lost 89% of your hearing capabilities from their cheerful screams.
____________
At precisely 4 am you decided to give up on sleep and left the living room trying to step around the bodies sleeping on the floor amongst the pillows and blankets going to your bedroom for some privacy. The ache was persistent and you had to do something about it. You locked the door and unlocked your phone going straight to Abbys Onlyfans. There was a message there
A video behind a paywall. A paywall of 250 euros with the caption “was thinking of you” and right below the video was a separate message
You closed your eyes the minute your fingers slipped and purchased the video. A video unlike anything else on her profile where she wore a sleeveless baggy t-shirt and the same boxer briefs you saw on that photo she sent you earlier that evening. She was sitting on her gaming chair with her legs spread and the camera was placed on the bottom cropping her face out. You watched as her fingers teased the waistband and in came her voice
Were you thinking of me?
It was lower, suggestive unlike how she usually talked. You pressed your thighs and pushed your back against the bedframe falling deeper between the pillows. Your hand laid comfortably on top of your tummy an inch away from the elastic band of your sweatpants. You circled the area hesitating to delve deeper but when you saw Abby initiate the notion by slipping her hand beneath her underwear you did the same, your body having a mind of its own.
Are you touching yourself for me baby?
She asked and you almost let out a breathless quiet “yes” but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. You mirrored her circular slow movements and hated how painfully slow she went about it and as if she knew exactly what you thought she added
Are you getting impatient ?
You bit your lip trying to hold back a moan. Her voice reeked of sex and the eroticism of her moves drove you insane. Your head was spinning and when you dared to outpace her you heard a very low breathless sigh come from the video and echo in your head. The video ended there and your eyes shot wide open in disbelief. You checked the time. It was a 3 minute video.
Fuck
You thought and closed the tab leading back to the chat on onlyfans. A new message was there
-Enjoyed it cotton?-
Fucking fuck
325 notes
·
View notes
Note
I wanna wish my fallout 4 boys for a merry christmas... MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! I LOVE YOU!!! (happy christler to u too iff u celebrate)
》And I love you random citizen. I did have a good Christmas, thank you... but I got sick immediately after. Happy holidays!
[Codsworth] "Sir/Mum, I've hope you like the decor. It's not perfect but as long as we're with loved ones we'll love. Isn't that right?"
Under his cheery attitude he is grieving the loss of the world. It's his first Christmas with you back and he wants the rest of the family. Nate/Nora and young Shaun, along with brothers and sisters, and uncles and cousins. But he forces himself to stay positive. Not focus on 'what was' and focus on 'what is'.
[Danse] "Say the word and I'll be there. Whatever you need."
He's more concerned with helping. Having a huge party was something he's never done. Back in the Brotherhood all holiday affairs were kept under wraps. So in all the new excitement he doesn't really care about the day itself, more like being involved.
[Deacon] "Tell me, [Name], have you been a good boy/girl?"
You will not see him outside any sort of costume the entire night. And he has several lined up. Santa, Rudolph, an elf, scrooge pj's. He's also seen with a drink always in his hand. Whether or not it's the same drink, no one knows.
[Hancock] "I'm probably already on the naughty list so let's just have fun."
The entire town of Good Neighbor is partying like the Santa's actually gonna join them. There's a stupid amount of milk and cookies considering the fact none of them are chemed or spiked. They also have a giant white elephant with all the presents.
[MacCready] "What the hell is Christmas?"
In Little Lamp Light they didn't have the tradition and after leaving he never let himself indulge in it so he never learn what exactly it was. To him it's just a gift exchange. Explaining it to him isn't easy either. A big old man, who wears red, flies all over the world in one night in a sleigh with reindeer delivering presents to all the children. What is a reindeer? How? Why?
[Nick] "Merry Christmas, pal/doll. You deserve a break."
No matter what relationship you have with him, he's going to catch you under the mistletoe to tease you. Especially if he's a sort of mentor to you. He thinks it's cute. Besides that, he makes sure you're relaxing and not worried about anything so you can have a break.
[Preston] "I'm glad we did this. It's nice to see everyone warm."
For him, Christmas is the most stressful holiday, given that it's the coldest and people tend to fight over gifts. But it's still a holiday so it's nice. He's also almost immediately buried in gifts by settlers.
[X6] "Happy holidays."
He doesn't care in any meaningful capacity other than you celebrating, he has enough decency to keep it to himself though. You know he wasn't going to give you a gift so he doesn't. If you get him anything he'll take it and tell you why he likes it as an effort to be nice.
#ask and you shall receive#fallout 4#gender neutral reader#fallout imagines#fallout x reader#codsworth#danse#deacon fo4#hancock#maccready#nick valentine#preston garvey#x6 88
76 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
onmythirdleg
I'm not on my last leg if I love deeply enough
guppieishere
piglet! there’s no need to shout
bratusbrotherarts
~bratusbrother~ ~arts~
pitxroxas
ITS SUOUOVER!!!!
herewithoutya
Only Angel