#we're the kids in america */ ANSWER

[havvkinsqueen]

*/ @vitaegratis left a note;

“Chrissyyyyy, do you know what day it is?”

---☁︎｡⋆｡ Of course she knew what day it was. Chrissy was sappy like that. 2 years since they reconnected. What a strange, strange day that was. But with wide, blue eyes she looked at Eddie in an attempt to be as unsettling as possible. “The day I died,” came her answer, voice monotone and eyes still wide. It was the truth. It was indeed the day Chrissy Cunningham died. Though, she knew that Eddie was looking for something cute. Too bad Chrissy thought this answer was funnier.

[ist4rgirlo]

all i can think about is conrad bringing home bimbo!reader. like everyone knows belly likes conrad but he sees her as a sister so belly’s being rude and asking snide backhand comments but she’s not realizing it and actually thanking and answering belly with a smile. so now everyone realizes she’s not the smartest person but susannah LOVES her! (and connie baby is looking so happy and proud 🥹)!!! i’ve been looking for one like this but i can’t find it and can’t stop thinking of it!!!!!

────────────── 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONE SHOT !

warnings: FLUFF, belly being a b*tch, shit talking, physical touch (LMK IF IS MISSED ANYTHING)

requested by: anonymous

To be honest, no one expected Conrad to have a girlfriend like you. Everyone said that you were far from his type, you weren't dumb - you were just slow and doesn't know certain types of words or slangs. For Conrad, you were one of the most smartest person that he knew, well basically because he got to know you. You don't really show it but you have so much potential especially when it comes to fashion and make-up! a plus is that you are really good with art.

About his type, they always thought that it would be Belly and Conrad that would end up together, knowing that Belly is literally in love with him ever since they were kids, before you happened, they had a special bond - a bond that to the point where they were just inseparable, Belly thought that it was something so beautiful, It was her dream to be with Conrad.

Not until she knew that he had a girlfriend, and that he just treats him like a sister and nothing else.

───────────────────────────

Conrad's Pov

"Connie, you should bring that girlfriend of yours here sometimes!" Mom exclaimed, happily. Ever since I brought Y/N here, she was all mom asked from me, even her and Jeremiah instantly clicked. You can say that amongst the girls that I have been with, Y/N is surely my mom's favorite.

I smiled proudly, "I'll try, Mom. She's busy and I don't want to interfere with her personal life, but I'll ask. I'm sure she'll say yes especially if it's your request" I rubbed my mom's shoulder, she nodded.

She stood up and walked towards the kitchen, "Well tell me when she's coming so I can invite the Conklin's too, I'm sure her and Belly will get along really well." I just hummed and nodded. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Y/N asking if she can come here for dinner, she immediately responded saying yes. I smiled.

I saw my mom's figure come into the living room, I looked up - smiling at her, she tilted her head looking at me confused, "Well, it looks like you favorite girl is coming" I said giddily. My mom squealed, "Omg! I am so excited, I will cook her her favorite!" she said before going to the kitchen, to list down foods that she know's Y/N will like.

───────────────────────────

FEW DAYS LATER

Y/N's Pov

"Mom! We're here!" Conrad yelled, his hand rubbing your waist gently. You saw Susannah walked towards us, she went up to me and hugged me "Oh gosh! You're finally here, I missed you" she cooed, pulling away - placing her hands on your face gently. You smiled, looking at her "Oh Susannah, I missed you too! Here I got you your favorite" You said, handing her the dessert that she liked. She gasped, and grabbed it from you gently "Oh you didn't have to!" she said, pouting a little. You shook your head "It's okay! I wanted to" You smiled before looking up to Conrad who was already looking at you - smiling lovingly.

Jeremiah came into the view, walking towards you - pulling you in for a hug. "Hey, you!" he said, smiling. "Hi, Jere" I looked at him, smiling. "Looking good as always" he said, twirling me a little bit. It wasn't anything that was awkward between you and Jeremiah, even Conrad doesn't find it awkward. Ever since Conrad brought you here for the first time, you and Jeremiah just had that sister & brother bond.

You felt Conrad hand on your waist, "Baby, this is the Conklin's. This is Steven, Belly, and Laurel. You already know who they are since I did talk about them to you." Conrad said - smiling, turning you gently to face the Conklin's. You saw Laurel smile at you before walking towards you for a hug, "It is nice to finally meet you" she said, before pulling away. You saw Steven wave while Belly was just there, looking at you up and down, but you just chose to ignore it and just smiled at her.

After a while, you all went to the dining room to start eating. "Here you go, sweets. Eat lots yeah?" Conrad said, grabbing food for you - placing it on your plate, you heard Belly scoff "What? you got no hands? can't get your own food?" she mocked you, you looked at her confused. Steven nudged her with his elbow "Belly, stop it" he said, you looked around, all of them were looking at her, Susannah had a stern look on her face. Belly rolled her eyes, groaning "Calm down you guys, it was a joke!" she said, looking at you smiling, Susannah sighed "That wasn't a good joke, Belly" she said, reaching for you gently. Belly looked at her and said sorry. You just smiled back nodding, going back to eating your food.

You felt Conrad's hand on your thigh, you placed your hand on top of his - you felt his hands lock in with yours. You looked up and saw him give you a reassuring smile, you nodded and smile, telling him that you were okay. "So Y/N.. what is your major?" Laurel asked, you furrowed your brows, not familiar with the word until Conrad whispered to you "It’s what you do in school, baby" he said smiling, Belly chuckled - not believing what she just saw "Oh! Uhm I major in fashion design!" you exclaimed happily, smiling at Laurel. She nodded before smiling at you "Well It is obvious, just look at what you are wearing." Belly said, looking at you up and down, "Isabella." Laurel warned her, grabbing her arm gently

you smiled - thinking that it was a compliment. "Thank you!" you said, looking at Belly - she just looked at you like you were crazy which made you shrug you shoulders - looking at Conrad. He was looking at them, his brows furrowed. You felt his hand tighten around your thigh, you placed your hand above his - rubbing it gently, He looked at you - his gaze softened, he smiled.

After you guys were done with dinner, Conrad decided to walk you around the house. You guys were now at the back of the house, at the pool with your feet's dipped in it. Conrad reached for your hand, caressing it gently "Sorry for earlier, darling. I'm sorry for not defending you or saying anything to Belly" he said, before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You turned to him, brow furrowed, shaking your head "Why are you sorry? nothing happened earlier, Connie. I am okay, whatever they said didn't hurt me okay? I'll try my best to get along with Belly." you said, smiling still unaware of Belly's action.

Conrad eyes softened "Oh my love, you are too kind. Sometimes it scares because then people will try to get advantage of you" he paused, caressing your face "but it's okay, i'll be here yeah? I'll defend you and I will stay right by your side, always so don't worry about getting along with her. You don't have to do that, baby. Just think about mom and everyone else, they absolutely love you." he said, before pulling you in for a kiss.

Conrad is just deeply in love with you, he doesn't care what other people think as long as you are there beside him. He was just high over heels, he absolutely adores you and treasure you, he wouldn't ask for more. He just felt like the luckiest guy to have someone like you.

───────────────────────────

I JUST LOVED WRITING THIS! it is honestly one of the cutest and wholesome oneshot i've ever written. Conrad is just so inlove with reader and I AM UP FOR IT, I want a love like this UGH. Thank you, anon for requesting this <3

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

At Your Service

Summary: As a trainee mechanic, you apply for an apprenticeship at Stark Automotives on a whim. What you don't expect is for Tony Stark to reply personally with an offer to train you, and if that wasn't enough, a certain redhead also takes an interest in your sessions.

Word Count: 2303

Pairing: (Mentor/Mentee relationship for both) Natasha Romanoff & Reader; Tony Stark & Reader

Warning: None :)

A/N: Thanks for the response to my last fic, all the comments and reblogs kept me writing even with all my deadlines, and Mechanic!R was the clear winner of the last poll, so here you all go! Enjoy :)

»»————-　★　————-««

You rested centimetres from the cold floor with the sight of oil-covered gears, shafts, and pipes overtaking your vision as you rolled under the automotive.

"Does the axle cover come off?" you said after a short inspection.

"Yeah, those two hex screws, I'll get you the tool. You've worked out the issue?"

"It's meant to be 4-wheel drive and only the front wheels are moving; I'd guess a problem with the connector shaft meeting the rear axle."

"You'd guess or you'd know?"

"I can't know anything 'til the cover's off and I can see inside."

"Good answer," Tony replied. "Hand out."

As instructed, you stretched your arm until your fingers just about reached out from under the car chassis, where a tool handle was placed in your palm.

"One 5/8 hex screwdriver, that's the one you'll need."

"The screws are imperial?"

"'Course, kid, we're in America."

"Yeah, but you sell these cars globally; I just assumed-"

"Dear old dad set up factories all over the globe – allows for some regional differences in the schematics, then each production line just does its own thing. It's easiest for everyone."

You hummed your acceptance of his method, then started to undo the screws, until a light rock to the car paused you. The movement stopped, so you assumed it was just Tony leaning on the car and you moved to continue your work, until the hum of a motorbike -- the sound of which you'd previously ignored -- grew even louder. You jolted when the bike pulled into the garage, causing you to smack your head against the car's underbody and let out a low groan.

"Watch yourself, kid; are you alright under there?" Tony said from above. At your murmur that you were fine, he continued, "roll yourself out, there's someone for you to meet."

"Why's there someone under your car, Tony?" came a woman's voice -- the person to meet, you assumed -- "can't get under the car like the old days, hm?"

When you emerged, the bright light of the outside world temporarily blinded you; you could make out Tony's figure, and as your vision returned, you saw the newcomer's back was turned to you, so only an orange plait could be seen from under her bike helmet.

"Very funny," Tony scoffed, continuing the conversation before he pointed at you. The woman turned and you only just managed to stifle a gasp when you recognised her face. "This is an apprentice, wrote to me a couple months back asking to learn about Stark Automotives, so I've been training them since. Y/N, this is Nat. Nat, Y/N."

From the moment Tony suggested training you here, in the garage of the Avengers Compound, you knew there would be a chance of running into the rest of the team you'd spent your childhood idolising. But truthfully, you were too starstruck that Tony Stark himself had offered to train you to truly believe that moment of meeting the other Avengers would ever come.

Now here you were, facing the Natasha Romanoff, looking effortlessly cool with her white vest, jeans, and leather biker jacket...while you laid on the floor in a Stark branded boiler suit and a definite grease mark where you’d hit your head. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment when you realised that the Black Widow's first perception of you was seeing you smack into an object directly in front of your face. You only hoped the blush didn't show when you finally met her eyes.

"Good to meet you," she said cooly, holding her hand out, but her eyes tracked up and down as if sizing you up.

You took her hand instantly, about to ramble through an introduction before a slight gasp from her shook you back to attention. Your eyes snapped down to where your hands met, and you realised then that you still wore your gloves, coated with oil from working on the vehicle, and now you've smeared it all over her uncovered hand. You instantly broke away -- apologising profusely -- and grabbed sheet after sheet of blue paper roll, offering it to her to help clean her hand.

"I'm so sorry," you repeated again, but she shook her head and smiled at you.

"I've had much worse meetings. I'll happily take a little bit of grease over being shot at."

"Woah-"

"Hey, kid," Tony began. Both your head and Natasha's snap in his direction; you'd honestly forgotten he was still there. "Not to interrupt, but have you ever worked on a motorbike? I made a few modifications to Nat's, and now that she's so kindly brought it to us I can show you how they work."

"Do not lay a finger on my bike, Stark," Natasha growled in a tone that reassured you that if she had actually been angry at the grease before, you would have known.

"I won't," Tony scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "...Y/N will."

You gulped, eyes darting between the two Avengers as you were drawn into the fold. "Me? Tony I'm not sure that's-"

"It's essential learning. We don't just make fancy cars so you have to learn it all. Nat, you wouldn't deprive Y/N of this learning, would you?"

Natasha groaned, but eventually relented, crossing her arms and perching on the counter by the wall. "Okay, but I'm not leaving you alone with it. And Y/N?"

You looked up, fear probably showing on your face. Natasha smiled in return, and allowed you to see a glint of mischief in her eye, "give me a running commentary of what you do. I trust your honesty more than Stark's." She smirked at the last part, rolling her eyes as she pointed to Tony behind his back, an action for you and you alone to see. Something about it put you at ease, so you nodded, smiled back, then got to work, spending the rest of the session under the assassin's watchful eye.

»»————-　★　————-««

You watched the phone in your hand, hoping and waiting for those three little dots. Tony Stark was not a man famously known for his punctuality, but he’d been early to every lesson so far and now, ten minutes after you were due to meet, you’re starting to worry.

The worry wasn’t the lesson being cancelled so much as the worry that one of the other Avengers would walk in and accuse you of trespassing – there were still so many residents you hadn’t met, and without Tony present, you were just a stranger loitering unaccompanied in the Avengers’ garage, surely that looked suspicious. No matter the fact that you were supposed to be there and had gained authorised access with your security card, your anxieties continued to grow and grow.

Your heart rate sped up proportionately to the increasing rumble of an approaching bike. The seconds seemed to elongate when you knew there was no escape to being caught there alone. In the remaining time you had, you pulled your phone back out and, with shaking fingers, messaged Tony one more time – at least then you had proof, you kept your eyes on the device even as you felt the newcomer pull in and dismount from their motorbike.

“Let me guess, Tony didn’t tell you he’s away?” Your head snapped up at the familiar voice, face breaking into a grin as red hair broke free from under the helmet. Natasha had been showing up more and more frequently to your sessions, so her arrival was no surprise, but you were glad to have a friendly figure to justify your presence, lest anyone else appear. Natasha set her headgear to the side and hopped up onto the counter, following her usual routine; you watched her intently until you realised she was watching you too, still waiting for an answer.

"Oh, uh, yeah, no, he didn't- he didn't tell me. He's not coming?"

“He got called on a mission last night. Should be back in a few days, if all goes to plan, but I’ll have a word with him about keeping you informed.”

Her undivided attention unnerved you – Tony had always acted as a buffer before – so you fidgeted, avoided eye contact, and wondered what your next move should be. Thankfully, Natasha answered that last question for you: “It wouldn’t be right to send you home so soon,” she said, “And I am officially a Stark Industries employee still, you know, if you wanted…”

“Yes!” you exclaimed instantly, speaking before you thought. “I mean, yeah, if it’s no trouble. That would be awesome.”

“We both know I’d sit here and watch anyway.” She spoke softly and with a smile that you found yourself drawn to replicate, feeling more at ease in the spy’s presence. “Now then, I know about a lot of things but mechanics is an area where you might already have me beat, so how about something else?”

“Like what?”

“What do you want to know?” she shrugged, “Russian? Latin? Artillery? Archery? Wrestling? Weightlifting?” At your dumbstruck expression, Natasha smiled and realised she would have to make the choice for you, “how about the gym? You can impress Tony with your strength next time he makes you use that scissor jack.”

Your cheeks burn at the memory – neither Natasha nor Tony had said anything at the time, but both of them had needed to jump in and assist when you’d been unable to turn the jack enough for it to actually lift the car and fulfil its purpose. From Natasha’s warm smile, you could tell she still wasn’t mocking you for the incident, but you still nodded quickly and murmured agreement with her plan, before following her through the Compound towards the gym.

“Can I ask why you’re a Stark Industries employee?” you asked on the elevator, as a way to fill the silence and out of curiosity from her earlier words.

She laughed, “It was back in ‘09, we had to get intel on the newly revealed Iron Man, and the man behind the suit-”

“Tony-”

“Exactly. So, S.H.I.E.L.D. made some edits to the employee list, added my cover there, and I successfully infiltrated the company for as long as I needed. I only officially revealed myself at the 2010 Stark Expo – do you remember that? – and in all the chaos afterwards, they never officially took me off it.”

“I think I remember seeing it on TV – you were there?”

“I left before the explosions started, but I was around, trying to make sure as few people were in harm’s way as possible-” Natasha cut herself off as the two of you entered a space larger than any lecture hall, fitted with all sorts of workout machines – the majority of which you’d never seen in your life. “Here we are.”

“You use…all of this?”

She nodded, then paused, before pointing to a section in the corner where the machine structures and weights seem almost treble that of the current area. “That section’s for Steve, or Thor if he ever bothered to train. Us regular humans wouldn't move it an inch if we tried to use those machines.”

Natasha smirked and shook her head again, guiding you towards one of the regular machines: a chest pad adjusted to press against your front as you sat on the stool, while Natasha adjusted the weight and pulled the two handles back for you to grab them. With the position set, you looked up to her for advice,

“Pull the handles towards your chest and push them back to neutral, it'll work out your upper arms. That's where a mechanic will need strength the most, so aim for 10 repeats.”

Natasha watched carefully, adjusting your posture where needed, until you completed the set. You broke into a grin at the realisation that you'd managed it, one which Natasha happily replicated as she held her hands up for a high fives. “You'll be a pro in no time,” she promised, “ready to increase the load?”

The rest of the session continued in much the same manner – Natasha introduced you to different bits of equipment and perfected your form until your phone buzzed with a routine alert to mark the end of a session. 

Natasha accompanied you to the door, smiling, receiving, and occasionally rebuking the many thanks you bombarded her with for stepping up. “It was truly my pleasure,” she said at last, “I'll make sure Tony is back next week, but if you want to do this again, you have my number.”

She squeezed your shoulder, turned, and began to walk back inside – all before you came to the realisation: “I don't actually have your number!” you shouted after her. Natasha didn't respond, but when you checked your phone only seconds later, a message had appeared in your notifications.

‘Yes you do :) 

-N’

She really was some spy.

»»————-　★　————-««

Everything changed from then on: you walked in to Tony and Natasha arguing a week later, their sudden pause at your presence a very good indicator that they were discussing you, something they confirmed only moments later.

Next thing you knew, both Tony and Natasha had taken you on as their mentee, a session with each of them once a week, and neither of them wanted you to leave. Your apprenticeship was extended into the next academic year, where you moved even closer to the Avengers Compound to visit them more often, the two Avengers – not to mention the others they'd introduced you to – always making sure you were well cared for whenever you visited. Eventually, Tony even offered you a full-time job post-graduation as the Avengers' official mechanic, and who were you to refuse? You loved the work just as you loved spending time with your mentors, so you could think of no better job in the world.

»»————-　★　————-««

taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

[comicaurora]

What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.

That's what I've heard!

The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.

Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.

Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.

Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?

I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.

The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.

[ynbabe]

for a request: american motogp rider or bullrider!reader whos from the south x logan sargeant. i’m picturing a male reader but it can be fem 🫶

I've chosen Bullrider! Reader but I don't know jack shit about it lmao 😭

Southern hospitality ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x Male!Reader

Miami GP was good luck for Logan. It was almost like the car and track knew it was his home, he felt faster, stronger, and better on that track but it might also have been the looming threat of losing his job. The constant questioning of his talent and hard work.

He was also totally ignoring the mess that was his personal life, not that he had much outside of F1.

"Knock Knock," Someone tapped his head and declared with a smile in his voice.

"Wh- Alex?" He looked up at his teammate who sheepishly but not apologetically smiled back, skin pink from the sun.

"What were you thinking about?" He asked stealing Logan's 'panic spot' behind the motor home where he was leaning on some old tyres, though any spot could be a panic spot if Logan walked in.

This time he was nudged out of his head, "You're doing it again," he stated, a soft look too close to pity for comfort in his eyes.

"Nah man nothing much, home race and all you know?" He lied and Alex looked least convinced but they were both interrupted by the door opening.

"Hey guys, we've got some PR stuff to do," someone from the team announced. Of course, he was definitely gonna have to skip lunch today as well.

He kept replying to Alex's chatting, still convinced the older man suspected he was lying. He was okay, why wouldn't he be?

"O-oh my god," Alex interrupted himself and pushed an arm in front of Logan, making the blonde boy stop in his tracks confused. "Is that a real-life cowboy?" He all but screamed making Logan look around till he spotted a tanned man with y/h/c hair wearing a leather cowboy hat.

As they reached closer they could hear the thick southern accent the man had, around him were a few of the mechanics, some taking photos and others staring intently at his face or rather his chiselled chest that could be seen through the half-open white shirt the man wore.

"What the fuck?" For the first time in a long time, Logan's mind was clear.

"Logan, stop drooling, I get it but we're in public," Alex chastised, laughing while he pushed the both of them ahead.

Now Logan prided himself on being a mature guy, even as a kid everyone told him so, so why was he pulling and jumping over Alex like a teenage boy trying to show off in front of this really really attractive stranger?

The stopped just as they reached you, Alex's Pr manager was standing there already, looking annoyed at the two for being late.

"Y/n," He called the man who excused himself and walked over to where they were standing, "Logan, Alex, this is Y/n L/n our celebrity guest for Miami,"

The man in front of him laughed, his y/e/c eyes crinkling as he did.

“Now I wouldn’t say celebrity, but thank you sir,” he commented and the older man nodded, a stricter nod was given to Logan and Alex but both chose to ignore that.

They walked towards a shaded area, Y/n leading them, “Now I would say y’all are the real celebrities, drivin’ those cars at a million miles,” his voice (the accent) raised the hair at the back of Logan’s neck.

“Hahaha, thank you so much, so what do you do?” Alex asked, which made Logan glare at man, that was such a rude question! He could be a nepo-baby, it’s America Alex!

“Oh, I’m a bull rider,” he answered and suddenly Logan was chocking on air, it’s not his fault his brain was disgusting! “You okay, Sargeant,” the man, the literal bull rider had placed a hand on his shoulder and was asking him- wait what the fuck? Logan was a grown man, why is he acting like a teenage girl with a crush?

He straightened up, trying to clear his throat, “bull rider, huh,” he pointed to the hat, making the man smile, a slight blush spreading across his features.

“All a part of the brand, stole it from a teammate and it stuck,” he made a pained expression, half joking.

“Do you know J.B. Mauney?” Alex asked, reminding Logan that he was still there.

"Oh Lord," Y/n laughed, "He's my teammate," now it was Alex's turn to swoon.

"Really? Oh my God, he's so cool! My for you page is filled with his edits!" Alex told the man in front of him and the second-hand embarrassment Logan felt could have killed him only Alex didn't seem embarrassed at all, in fact, he was doubling down on the simp parade.

"Between you an' I, I had a pretty darn big crush on that man too," he confessed, winking at Logan. "I think you boys need to get goin' now but how bout we catch lunch? I heard they don't feed you good round here," Logan turned around and saw someone call for them and missed the way Alex looked between the two men standing significantly closer together than needed.

"Unfortunately, I've got a little lunch date with Lily," Alex feigned sadness but smiled wide.

Y/n turned to the blonde, raising a brow to which Logan couldn't help but nod yes.

As they walked away, Logan still reeling from the butterflies he got in his stomach every time the other man spoke, Alex bumped into him, giggling, "You are so welcome, mate," he laughed and walked into the building.

y/n/l/nofficial

y/n/l/nofficial told him not to eat the wasabi 🤷‍♂️

username Is this a soft launch?

username Oh?

username IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEEE

username Istg I've seen that blonde before

username ong that hoodie too

You knew you had forgotten to tag Logan but you never expected people to expect he was your boyfriend! That post wasn't even that suggestive, was it? Oh god, it was going to be so embarrassing!

"Hey, Y/n you good?" Your teammate asked you causing you to throw your phone at the man, who laughed at the comments.

"This is why we keep PR managers, cowboy," he threw it back to you, "Hey at least you got another bull outta it-" he teased making you throw your pillow at him which he laughed at rushing out the room.

Your hand trembled over Logan's chat. Should you invite him out again? The lunch invitation already had you sweating under your collar like a thief in church. Why was talking to that Floridian getting you so nervous? You balanced on live bulls for a damn living!

Okay, oh god why wasn't he responding. You really fucked this up, next time you went out you were going to let that bull throw you nine ways to Sunday and then some more.

Could you blame this on autocorrect? Yeah, of course, everyone knew what a nuisance that damn thing was.

In the middle of your spiral, you got a few notifications, hoping it was Logan you quickly checked your phone, almost dropping it in the process.

logansargeant

logansargeant Southern Hospitality 🫡

username sir? Bro? Pookie bear? Come back home the kids miss you 😭

username Forgive me I wasn't aware of your game

username Guys can't they just be friends???

alexalbon You're welcome 🥰

username GIRL- WHAT DO YOU KNOW????

username IS THAT @/y/n/l/noffical

username I'D KNOW THAT DAMN SMILE ANYWHERE Stgsiagdfki

Request 1/5- DONE!! Updates will be weekly as I wanna make sure I get the best quality of each fic but TRUST your ask will be answered cause most are abt Logan and we stan that American boy in this damn blog here 😤

As always pls do let me know how y'all like the fic!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

[chrisdr3]

Last minute confessions ~ OP81

Fluff and a bit of embarrassment

Summary: In the drivers' dinner in Abu Dhabi, Y/N is forced to confess her crush to Oscar and vice versa.

The 2023 season came to an end with max winning the last race, making it the most dominant season in F1. After that, everyone decided to have dinner in the same restaurant you did last year, but not for saying farewell to someone. You just liked it and wanted to do it again.

Everyone was already at the restaurant, waiting for you. Some of them started to get a bit irritated of waiting. Fernando saw that and decided to talk. "Don't worry guys, you know Y/N, she's probably late because she always wants to look gorgeous for this kind of events." He smiled.

By the time he stopped talking, you entered the restaurant and approached the drivers' table. You had your hair down, some mascara, eyeliner and lipstick applied and you were wearing this. "Hello guys, sorry for being late." You smiled. "It's okay Y/N, you look stunning by the way." Daniel said.

You sat down in the remaining seat in between Daniel and Oscar. After a bit, everyone turned back to normal. They continued discussing, sometimes involving you in their convos. Except from Oscar. He was blushing slightly and wasn't taking part in any of the conversations.

You didn't really mind, as you knew pretty well that oscar didn't talk very much anyways and that he was more of an introverted type of guy. The dinner was going pretty well, and the food arrived quickly. You ate and after everyone finished, all the drivers decided to stay a bit longer and maybe have a drink.

Suddenly, Lando came up with the idea of asking everyone about their love life. Checo, Nico and K-Mag were married with kids , so they didn't bother replying, Max said he was doing fine with Kelly, Lando, Lance, Logan and Esteban claimed being still single, Lewis didn't bother to find anyone yet, Valterri and Fernando didn't answer, even tho there were rumours about them being seen with women.

There were 9 drivers left, including you and Oscar. Zhou didn't answer, as he was talking to the phone, everyone knew that Pierre and Alex were doing really good with Kika and Lily because of their posts on social media, so they just confirmed it. Carlos didn't want to give any info, just that he's doing pretty decent with Rebecca, George was okay with Carmen and Charles said that Alexandra was waiting for him to get back to Monaco.

After Charles stopped talking, Daniel was asked. He answered that he was more than great with Heidi and that they were planning to go at his family's house in Perth for the holidays. Then, only you and Oscar were left. "Y/N, what's going on with your love life? Are you with someone, are you crushing on anyone?" Lando asked, a smirk plastered in his face.

You blushed, embarrassed. How were you going to tell it? All the drivers turned to look at you. You were getting hotter and redder with every single second passing. "Come on, tell us!" Daniel said. You didn't respond. "Okay, I'll help you. Are you crushing on someone?" Max intervened, his voice calm. You nodded yes. "Is it someone from here?" Max continued. "Y-yes..." "Can you tell us who?" "N-no."

Max stopped, thinking for a bit. "Then we'll play a little game." "Okay..." "Is he blond or brunette?" "Brunette." "So it's not K-Mag, Nico or Valterri." "Yes." "Is he European?" "No." "So, that means we're left with Lance, Logan, Checo, Zhou, Daniel and Oscar." "Right." "Is he from America?" "No." "Then there's Daniel, Zhou and Oscar left. It's not Zhou, am I right?" "You're right." "So there ar the two Aussies left."

"It's Oscar..." You mumbled, looking at your feet, face red as a tomato. Then Oscar turned to look at you, blushing, rubbing the back of his neck a bit embarrassed. "Y/N..." He spoke, breaking the silence. You turned your face to look at him. "I-i like you too Y/N..." You looked at him, smiling a bit. He cupped your face with his hands and kissed you gently. After a little, he pulled back, blushing. "S-sorry..." You slid your hand in his under the table. "It's fine."

Everyone applauded for you and then left you to talk, discussing about other things. "Oscar..." You whispered. "Yes?" "Do you wanna be my boyfriend?" He squeezed your hand gently. "Yes."

[swimmingismywholelife]

Miracles in December

Summary: You haven't seen your best friend since his injury. And only a Christmas Miracle will bring him back to you.

Warning: ANGST but fluffy ending, platonic best friend!Gavi, mentions of Gavi's injuries, light arguments, insecurity, guilt 

WC: 5K

A/N: 🎶On the third day of Ficmas, my writer gave to me a fic withbest friend!Gavi🎶 If you're new here, I bleed Blaugrana. I've been a Barca fan since I was a kid and that club means everything to me. That being said, Gavi is one of my favorite players and my son and I'm absolutely devastated that he's had such a major injury. I don’t typically write for Gavi (he's a literal baby to me), but I wanted to write something to show my support for him. So this is dedicated to him. Estamos contigo. Mucha fuerza Gavi y te queremos ❤️💙

Link for the Song: Miracles in December

"Oh, I didn't know how thankful your love was, oh

I thought it would stop once it ended, oh

But every day, I'm fixing

Myself to want you

I think my love will endlessly continue."

~~~

You knocked on the door, your duffle bag over one shoulder, trying to shake off the snow.

"Hola, Aurora," you said to the person who opened the door.

"Hola, Y/N, come in! You must be freezing right now!" Aurora answered, gesturing for you to come in quickly. "I'll make you some tea. Sit, make yourself at home!"

You set your stuff in a small space by the doorway, one that commonly had your stuff whenever you came to visit the Paez Gavira household. It wasn't surprising to see you come over as you'd been doing it since you were a kid. You and Pablo had met years ago on your first day at La Masía. You'd just moved from America back to Spain so you could play for the academy. You were an awfully shy kid, especially after your American classmates bullied you for the way you spoke Spanish.

You remembered your first day at La Masía very clearly. You had stood outside the building too afraid to go in. Pablo noticed you on his way in and despite being shy himself, approached you, asking if you were lost.

"Hola, soy Pablo. Are you here to play?" Pablo asked.

"Sí," you said softly. "Soy Y/N. Today is my first day here. I'm just a little scared."

"¿Por qué? You're gonna love it here! This is the best academy in the world!" he said excitedly.

"But what if they don't like me? What if I don't make any friends?" you asked worriedly.

"You don't have to worry about because I'll be your friend! And I'll introduce you to everyone else!"

"Yo no sé," you mumbled to yourself, ready to call your mom to pick you up. "I think I'm just gonna call my mom to pick me up and go home."

"How's this? I'll be your first friend, and because we're friends, we'll walk in together! You belong here, I promise. And so long as I'm your friend, I'll make sure you know that this is where you belong and what you're meant to do! What do you say, Pequeña?"

"Pequeña?! I'm not that small!" you protested, feeling slightly offended that he was coming for your height like that.

"Yes you are but that's okay! See, you have a nickname now from a friend!" Pablo said. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're here for a reason. This is your home and even if you're nervous now, I'll help you see that," he continued, calming your nerves and reassuring you.

Pablo held out his hand for you to take. "Just take my hand and we'll reach our dreams of playing for the first team together."

You hesitated, but took a deep breath. You knew you had to take the chance to achieve the dream of playing for your favorite club. So you took Pablo's hand in yours. You smiled at each other before walking through the doors together, ready to take on the world.

Since that day, the two of you were inseparable. And he was right. The moment you stepped through those doors, everything felt right. Pablo introduced you to his friends, making you feel more at ease with everyone. You eventually made your own friends within the academy. And despite your growth spurt, you still ended up tiny, causing Pablo's unfortunate nickname for you to stick. Even after Pablo started playing with the first team, he always did his best to support you in your games. He was your best friend and you were his.

Which was why you were just as distraught as he was when his injury happened. You were in the crowd proudly wearing his jersey and cried just as hard as he did as he was subbed off, knowing the injury was serious. You cried even more when you found out it was a torn ACL and meniscus, knowing he was out for the rest of the season and the Euros. Pablo more than anything loved to play, and you knew he would be devastated.

On top of that misfortune, Pablo hadn't spoken to you since that day. You'd traveled with him back to Barcelona and to the medics after that game, where you held him as he cried. But after that, he'd gone radio silent. At first, you thought he just needed time and space to process everything going on. But you soon realized that Pablo was still talking to the others after catching up with Fermín and some of the others one day.

"Yeah, I think Pablo just needs space," you said, drinking the coffee you'd ordered. "He isn't really speaking to anyone right now."

"What are you talking about?" Fermín asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Pablito and I talked yesterday. He's nervous for his upcoming surgery, but I reassured him that everything was gonna be fine."

"Wait, he talked to you?" you asked, now being the one confused.

"Pequeña, he's been regularly talking to all of us because he needs the support," Cristo explained.

"Then why hasn't he talked to me?" you asked again, feeling extremely hurt. "I thought we were best friends. I haven't seen him since he came back to Barcelona. And he hasn't answered any of my calls or texts. I've been to his house every day since and he's never even so much opened his door."

"I'm sorry, Pequeña," Fermín said, trying to smile.

But the damage was already done.

"How is he, Rora?" you asked gently as his sister gently handed you a mug.

"The same," she sighed. "His surgery went well so he's just recovering now. I think Christmas being around the corner is making him even more upset though. You know, holiday cheer and all," Aurora replied, sitting down next to you. "He's still crying every night even if he thinks we can't hear him. He hasn't talked to you then I assume?"

You shook your head. "He hasn't said anything to me since that day. The only way I know how he's doing is by asking you or some of the others. I just wish I could help him you know? It's like I'm here, but he won't even acknowledge that we know each other, much less being best friends."

"You've been here every day since," Aurora said gently. "Even if Pablo can't see it now, I know he's appreciative of that." She grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. "And we appreciate that too. My brother is annoyingly stubborn and yet you've been here every day, doing your best to help him and the rest of us. You're doing more than enough, hermanita. He's lucky to have someone like you in his life."

You squeezed Aurora's hand laying your head on her shoulder.

"I would take the injury if it meant he could play too," you said honestly.

"Don't ever say that," Aurora said sternly. "If Pablo were down here, he would've hit you for saying that. You love playing just as much as he does. And you deserve to play too."

"I made the first team, Rora," you whispered. "And they've been strongly suggesting they're gonna sub me in at some point. They're finally gonna let me play. It's everything I've been working towards."

Aurora quickly sat up and hugged you tight. "Y/N! That's amazing! Estoy tan orgullosa de ti! Just in time for Christmas too! This is like the best present ever!"

"Thank you," you groaned out, "but you're squeezing me a little too tight there."

She only squeezed you tighter in response. "My parents are gonna be so excited! And Pablo-" She cut herself off. "Pablo will be proud of you too," she said softly. "I know he will."

"Is he?" you scoffed. "He hasn't spoken to me once since the injury. He's visited the first team, he regularly talks to Fermín and Cristo and all the others. But he won't even look in my direction."

"He'll come around," Aurora answered. "I think he's afraid of how you'll treat him. He's stupid for that but he'll come around eventually I promise."

"You know," you started, "everyone kept saying today that this was the best present I could've gotten. To play for the first team. And don't get me wrong, I'm so excited for this. It's all I've ever wanted since I came to Spain. And in time for Christmas too? It should be make my holidays even more exciting." You sighed, resting your head on Aurora's shoulder. "But honestly, I just want Pablo to come back to me. That's really all I ask for. But at this rate, I think even a Christmas miracle won't bring him back."

You stayed for a little while longer before Aurora kicked you out (mostly because she didn't want you walking home in the dark and the snow was starting to pick up). But before you left, you walked up to Pablo's room and knocked on the door like you'd done every time you came to visit. You knew he was awake and heard you, but there was still no effort to come see or talk to you. You sighed, taking a seat with your back against the door.

"Hola Pablito," you said. "I hope you're doing okay over there. I'm glad your surgery went well. Rora tells me everything's been great. I'm sure you probably know better than I do, but the team is struggling. That's okay though, they're managing as best they can."

You turned around to lean your forehead against the door.

"I, uh, I got called up for the first team for tomorrow's game. The others think there's a good chance Jonatán might put me in too," you continued softly, a smile appearing on your face. "I'm a little late compared to you, but we finally did it, Pablo. We're both finally on the first team, just like we promised when we were kids."

A frown appeared on your face when you didn't hear anything other than the noises of his TV.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while, but I hope you can at least watch the game on TV. Maybe I'll even score on my debut," you chuckled. Still no response from him. "Well, I have to go before your sister starts yelling at me. The snow is getting pretty bad anyway. I'll be back tomorrow after the game and I'll tell you all about it."

You got up, dusting yourself off. You rested your forehead against the door once more.

"I'm proud of you, you know? I know things are difficult for you, but you're gonna come back and be better than ever. I'll see you tomorrow, Pablo. Te quiero."

Pablo stared up at his bed as the sound of your footsteps faded, his stomach in knots as he was full of guilt. He knew you didn't deserve to be ignored, but he was ashamed. He couldn't bare to face you. You were his closest friend from La Masía and he didn't want you to see him in his condition. You wouldn't have judged him, and he knew that, but he still couldn't bring himself to speak to you. His family and his friends had scolded him many times for it, but Pablo didn't have the courage to apologize. And now hearing that you were finally called up to the first team and he still didn't say anything? He felt even worse.

Pablo heard another knock on his door.

"Hermano, it's just me. Y/N left. Can I come in?" his sister asked.

"Sí," he said, not bothering to sit up.

Aurora walked in and sat on his bed.

"She's upset, you know?" she said softly. "That even after making the first team, you still haven't talked to her."

"Yo sé," He responded.

"You know what she said to me?" Pablo remained quiet. "She said, 'Honestly Rora, I just want Pablo back. I would've said no to playing tomorrow if it meant he'd just talk to me.' And she said she would take the injury if that meant you could play again. Do you know how much that hurts to hear? That she'd rather give up her dream than not have you in her life? That's how much you mean to her. That girl has been here every single day since you got injured and you've said nada to her. You've talked to everyone else except Y/N. Why hermano? I just don't understand."

Pablo still said nothing. He took a deep breath, tears in his eyes.

"Yo sé," he answered. "Yo sé and it's killing me. But I don't want her to see me like this. All mangled and depressed. She should be living her dream, not watching me trying to walk every day."

Aurora sighed before raising her hand, slapping Pablo on his forehead.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" he yelled, grabbing the spot in pain.

"For being stupid, Stupid! Y/N has been your best friend since you started at La Masía! She's not judging you for getting injured! You couldn't help that and all she's wanted to do is support you because she knows how devastated you are. She's just as devastated for you!" Aurora said. "I know this has been hard for you, but you don't have to do it all alone, hermano. Just let her in and let her help you."

Aurora got up to leave Pablo with his thoughts. Before she closed the door, she peeked her head in and said, "And please at least watch her game. It's the least you can do after how you've treated her. You and I both know that."

You tossed and turned in your bed that night. With the excitement of finally making the first team and your best friend still ignoring you, sleep almost didn't come at all. Thankfully, you were able to get some rest that you knew you needed, especially if you were trying to prove yourself to your coach and the fans that you deserved some playing time.

Your stomach was in knots as you arrived at the stadium. You did your best to seem calm and collected knowing there were cameras filming the entrance to your very first game with Barça Feminí. But you didn't know what to think or what to feel. You just wanted a good game.

"Are you ready?" Lucy asked you, swinging an arm around your shoulders as you entered the dressing room.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you said nervously, twiddling your fingers.

"Aw, it's gonna be okay, Pequeña!" she said.  "You deserve this. It's been a long time coming honestly."

"Do you think I'll end up playing today?" you asked hopefully.

"There's been a lot of buzz about you online since you're close to the men's team. A lot of positivity mostly so I think people are excited to see you. But between you and me, I think you've got a good shot. You're our secret weapon," Lucy winked. "You're our Christmas miracle this year."

She gave your shoulder one final squeeze before parting, allowing the two of you to get dressed.

"What happens if you score a goal?" Aitana asked you as you tied your shoes. "Do you have a plan for it?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "I have an idea. But that's assuming I get on the field at all today, much less score a goal."

"You will. No doubt in my mind. It would be stupid of them not to, Pequeña."

You were flattered by your teammates' faith in you. Despite knowing the stack of players who were both in the starting XI and on the bench, you were honored to have been chosen as an option to play tonight. But while you were still unsure you'd see any playing time, your teammates were fairly confident in you and your abilities.

You dusted yourself off before you checked your phone, giggling when you saw the good luck messages from your friends and family. You sighed in disappointment still not seeing anything from Pablo, but you tried not to let it get to you. You threw your thoughts aside to focus on the game ahead of you, hoping you'd get subbed in at some point.

The game surprised the whole team. It was a lot trickier than any of you expected, your team struggling to convert any chances into goals. The score was tied at 1-1. The other team's defense was tough to break, and it was thanks to yours being just as good that they also weren't able to score as much. On top of that, the snow was starting to fall, making it harder to see and turning the air colder. You were all nervous that the win streak of the team would break today.

You were biting your nails as Alexia's shot was blocked once again, making you and the rest of the bench groan with disappointment. There were only a few minutes left on the clock. The team needed something and they needed something quickly.

"Y/N! Start warming up. I'm putting you in," Jonatán said. "Congratulations, Pequeña."

You looked at your coach before looking behind you. You repeated this several times before pointing at yourself in disbelief.

"Me? You're talking to me?" you squeaked.

"Sí, Pequeña, I'm talking to you. We need to change up the game plan and you're gonna be the magic we need to win this game. So I need you ready to go. Start running, Kid," he said before going back to coaching.

You let out a noise putting your hands over your mouth, still in shock over his decision. Your teammates all smiled brightly at you and cheered lightly, knowing that you were finally fulfilling your childhood dream. You stood to follow your coaches directions, but not before whispering something to Claudia, discreetly handing her a jersey. She nodded, smiling brightly and patting you on the head to send you on your way.

Your mind shifted to focus on what your game would be, but you couldn't help but think about Pablo. You shook off the thoughts, knowing that your friendship with him wasn't your priority right now. All you could do was hope that he was watching your game at home and cared enough to support you.

Your palms were sweating as you waited for Alexia to come off the field, your jersey number flashing on the board. This was the moment you'd been preparing your whole life for. And while you were nervous, you were more than ready for this.

Alexia hugged you and patted you on the head. "Go kill it, Pequeña," she whispered to you.

The moment you stepped onto the field officially replacing your captain, an indescribable feeling came over you. You could hear your team and the crowd cheering for you, all excited to see what you could do. Even though you felt the pressure on your shoulders, it didn't compare to what that atmosphere was like. There weren't any words in any language that could perfectly capture how you felt, but you knew that this was where you belonged. And you knew that you would do anything to feel this emotion for the rest of your life.

Lucy threw the ball in, initiating the start of play once again, snapping you out of your thoughts and putting you back into game mode. The ball was passed around amongst your teammates as you tried to figure out your options. You peaked over your shoulder, noticing a space that you knew you could use to your advantage. But you were also aware you were being marked by a defender, so your run would have to be quick and accurate. You made eye contact with Aitana and locked your eyes with hers subtly telling her that you had a plan. She launched the ball in your direction and you started sprinting as hard as you could, trying to keep the defender off your tail. The ball made contact with your foot as you kept running, dribbling the ball close to you. The other defenders had come quicker than you were expecting, but you knew you just had to keep going. You felt them grab your waist but you shrugged them off, pushing yourself to keep going. You scanned your surroundings not seeing a clear path for any of your teammates, but you did spot one right in front of the goal.

Your world stopped for a moment as your mind went back to your first day at La Masía. Pablo's face appeared in your mind as the words, 'Just take my hand and we'll reach our dreams of playing for the first team together', resounded in your ears. This was your dream and it was right in front of you. And you knew that despite your hesitation, you needed to just take a chance to reach that dream, just as you did all those years ago.

And so you kicked the ball towards the goal. The stadium held its breath as you all watched the ball fly past the defenders and slipping right past the goalkeeper's fingertips. You couldn't hear anything but the sound of the ball hitting the back of the net before deafening screams rang out from everyone around you. Your name and face flashed on the screen with a "GOL" next to your face.

Your eyes widened, realizing that not only was that your first touch of the ball in your very first game for the first team, but that you'd just scored your very first goal. Once you snapped back to your senses, you ran over to the side, kissing the badge on your shirt. You jumped into the air and screamed as you felt your teammates jumping onto you in celebration. You high fived everyone and huddled into a group hug, elated at the way you put the team into the lead, a "2-1" now appearing on the screen.

Knowing you didn't have much time for your own personal celebration, you broke off to the side running towards Claudia, who handed you the jersey you given to her earlier. You presented it to the crowd around you proudly. The camera zoomed in to display the "6 Gavi" on the screens around you. Despite not speaking to him for weeks, you wanted to still show your support for you recovering best friend because without him, you wouldn't even be playing that night. It was thanks to Pablo that you were here living your dreams, and this was your way of thanking him for everything he'd done.

Right before you turned back, you looked at the crowd one last time. And there in the stands was the boy himself sitting in the crowd with his cast on next to your families.

"You came," you said mostly to yourself in disbelief, feeling the tears form in your eyes, snow falling all around you.

Pablo nodded and cheered. Words didn't need to be spoken to know he was proud of you.

You laughed as you returned the smile. You knew things still had to be mended between the two of you, but you knew this was a step in the right direction. You presented the jersey a final time, hitting the badge on your own before tossing it back to Claudia and getting back into the game.

The snow fell around you as the final whistle was blown, your last minute goal being what your team needed to win the game. The bench ran to you and jumped on top, causing all of you to fall to the ground as you screamed in delight. The crowd cheered just as loudly for you, excited for the win and to see what more you could do for the team.

"You did it, Pequeña, you did it!" "You're our Christmas miracle!" "You deserve this!" "We're so proud of you!" were the words spoken by your teammates. This really was a dream come true.

You ended up earning the Player of the Match trophy for your heroics. You raised it to the fans as you walked over to the side for the interview as a means to thank them for the support.

"Wow! Y/N your first game and your first goal for Barça Feminí. How does it feel?" the interviewer asked you.

"Um, I can't really explain the feeling to be honest. Overwhelming but in a really good way," you answered honestly. "I've been dreaming of being in this position since I came to Barcelona when I was a kid, and I don't think it's fully hit me yet that I'm here."

"Well, there's been talks about you in La Masía and how you were going to be the secret weapon the team needed this season. Lots of people were anticipating your debut and I'm sure they're pleased to see what you've added to this team. They're already calling you 'the Christmas Miracle' online. Do you have any comments on that?" another interviewer asked.

"I'm really honored to have that sort of title," you laughed. "My teammates have been nothing but supportive and had complete faith that I would play today. And I couldn't be more grateful for all of them."

"And of course we have to talk about that goal celebration!" the interviewer said. "Culers loved the dedication to the beloved Gavi who is unfortunately injured and out for the season. Was there any particular reason for that?"

You grinned. "Gavi is the whole reason why I'm even here. On my first day at La Masía, I was so nervous I almost turned around and went home and Gavi was the one who convinced me that I belonged and helped me walk in. It's really all thanks to him that I worked up the courage and the passion to play."

"You must've been gutted to see him get injured," the other interviewer commented.

"I was probably just as devastated as he was," you replied. "I hate seeing any player injured, but to watch one of my best friends suffer was even worse. And since I'm here because of him, I wanted to honor him and his love for the sport and for the club. To let him know he might be off the field physically, but his spirit and his heart are still present with us. And to thank him for everything he's done for me."

"Gavi was in the crowd today and I'm sure he appreciated it. Well, congratulations Y/N on your first game and your first goal for the team. We hope to see more from you this season!" the interviewer said.

"Thank you so much!" you answered excitedly, giving each of them a small handshake before heading to the tunnels.

You spotted a figure in crutches waiting on the side for you leaning against the wall for support. You smiled and walked towards him.

"Hey stranger," you said softly, making him jump.

"Hey," Pablo answered, looking at his feet before averting his gaze to look at you.

"I can't deny I'm surprised to see you here, Pablito," you said, nudging him lightly.

"Aurora talked some sense into me. And I realized that wallowing in my own self pity wasn't more important than watching your first call up," he replied.

"What if I didn't end up playing?" you asked.

"First of all, you were always gonna play. There's no way you wouldn't. Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long for them to call you up when it should've happened years ago," Pablo said, shaking his head. "Second of all, it wouldn't have mattered to me anyway. Regardless of your playing time, I wanted to support you and your team just like you've been supporting me all this time. Even when I haven't deserved it."

He glanced at his wrapped leg. "I've been a jerk and a coward and I'm sorry for ignoring you. I just didn't want you to see me in this state because I was ashamed and embarrassed of this injury."

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

"Ow! What the hell?! You and Aurora have been hanging out too much," he grumbled.

"Yeah, because you're an idiot! I've known you since we were gross and snotty kids!" you exclaimed. "We've been best friends for literal years. If you haven't gotten rid of me yet, then that means I'm sticking around like those boogers you used to stick on the walls."

"You said you would stop bringing that up!" he whined, making you giggle.

"I'm serious though. Don't feel ashamed. Injuries happen and it's not your fault. All you can do now is lean on your loved ones for support and work to get better so you can come back stronger and better than ever," you said.

"But what if I don't?" he asked. "What if this injury ruined everything?"

"You're too stubborn for this to ruin your life," you said bluntly. "Does this sport mean everything to you? Will you give your all for your team once you come back?" Pablo nodded. "Then don't let this get you down. You just have to be patient and let the healing process do its thing. And once you get past that, you're gonna find yourself being the captain of Barcelona leading your team to greatness."

"Thank you," Pablo said seriously. "For everything. Te quiero, Pequeña."

"Te quiero también, Pablito," you said. "Estoy contigo por siempre."

You leaned over to give him a hug, but he stepped back.

"You can hug me later. You stink dude. And I'm cold. So hurry up and change. My parents are already with yours and they're making your favorite in celebration," Pablo whined. You just laughed, making your way into the dressing room.

Your first game had been something straight out of a fairytale. Your first call, first game, first touch, and first goal. It was everything you could've dreamed about when you stepped foot in Barcelona for the first time.

But while all of that was great, you got something even more important that night. And your Christmas miracle was in the form of the boy waiting for you in the tunnel.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @notsoattractivearenti @pulisicsgirl @lizzypotter14 @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @shadowscorch

[abarbaricyalp]

Short little fluffer-nutter-nothingness-sandwich because the first few lines were so clear in my mind

Written for the @sambuckylibrary Anniversary Event!

"Hypothetically," Bucky says in the middle of the afternoon while Sam is half asleep against him on the couch.

"No," Sam answers without opening his eyes.

"Sam."

"No," Sam repeats more firmly.

"Sammy," Bucky whines, squirms beneath him. "Babydoll. Sweetheart. Love of my life. Sunshine of my world."

"Absolutely not," Sam decides. He sits up, using Bucky's chest as leverage so he has an excuse to touch him, and fixes an unamused stare on him.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say." He's back to fake pouting because that gives him an excuse to spring the puppy dog eyes on Sam.

"Your hypotheticals usually end in us jumping off a bridge into water to escape a bunch of guys dressed like bears."

"That was one time," Bucky objects. He's running his fingers over the back of Sam's head, even while Sam's sitting further back. It does its job of keeping Sam close. Every time his fingers dip to the back of Sam's neck, it sends a shiver through him. "Hypothetically," he continues, "if we left Torres in charge, we could take a honeymoon."

"Oh?" Sam says. "Suddenly Joaquin's qualified to be left alone?"

"He's always qualified to be left alone. Left alone is my favorite version of him."

Sam rolls his eyes. "You wanna leave all the fighting and protecting to Jay, so that we can go hang out on a beach somewhere?"

"Hypothetically," Bucky corrects.

"Four years after we got married," Sam confirms.

"Well, no time like the present. We're never gonna get closer to that date again."

Sam lays down against Bucky's chest again and closes his eyes. "Hypothetically, he'd be the only one we'd tell. No one else is gonna give us permission."

"Well, that's never stopped us before."

"Encouraged us, even," Sam points out.

"Exactly," Bucky agrees. "So let's do it. Let's disappear for a little while. Doesn't have to be a beach. Could go camping or something."

"We got enough camping the last time you 'hypothetically' wanted to hunt down that monster-alien lead."

"Again, not my fault," Bucky defends. "There was a monster-alien in the woods."

"It wasn't doing anything to anyone. You just wanted a picture."

Bucky's massaging Sam's neck now and Sam's falling even further asleep. The argument is about to peter into nothing and Bucky would think he's won.

"What if the world tries to end again?" Sam asks. "What if Captain America needs to save the day?"

"Well, Elijah can stop pretending like he isn't secretly training with all the other kids," Bucky suggests. "He can use that fancy shield Riri Williams definitely didn't make him."

Sam snorts softly. "Good kid. Dunno if he's ready for it yet."

"For the hypothetical end of the world while we're on a beach?"

"Yeah, that." Sam ducks his face under Bucky's jaw and takes a deep breath of his scent. It's the last nail in the coffin. He's got no hold left on his consciousness.

"It'll be fine, Sammy," Bucky promises softly. "Hypothetically."

"Hypothetically," Sam agrees. "Hypothetically, I'd say yes to that. Hypothetically."

[gayelderstourney]

GAY ELDERS BRACKET ROUND 1

Propaganda:

Dr. Coomer/Bubby:

theyre both so fucking weird<3

They're the old man yaoi of all time. Their official ship name is Boomer. Bubby has no canonical gender as his creator said he's "too cool." Coomer is canonically bisexual. Please. They're all I have.

theyre old as fuck. coomer is one of bubbys only friends, if not his ONLY friend, they play off of each other so well… i love them

not canon but very very popular ship in the fanon. they're both genetic freaks of nature. one was made in a lab and the other is just cybernetically augmented and also has a shit ton of clones. they're very old gay men. their ship name is Boomer. what else can I say. two freaks in love <3

test tube baby with fire powers married to sentient scientist ai who packs an insanely strong punch

love blooms in the apocalyptic scientific research facility. a man whos become increasingly more cybernetic than man who has an infinite number of clones and has unlocked the secrets of the universe and really likes boxing and led an underground boxing ring for the best research facility in america meets a man(?) who was made in a test tube already as an old man who has pyrokineses and "prototypes" which are just really fucked up and creepy versions of himself and is canonically agender. they fall in love and together they slaughter hundreds of innocent scientists and aliens <3 aww so cute

Gay grandaddies for the win

Statler/Waldorf:

is there anything gayer than being a hater with another gay old man. Those two queers have done so much for the lgbt community

Waldorf has a wife, but it's literally just Statler in drag. In the wiki it says "Astoria often wonders why her husband keeps coming to this 'irritating, mindless, incessant nonsense' while he could stay home with her. The only answer from Waldorf was 'no comment.'" And I like to think it's because he gets to go on dates with his boyfriend. Every show they're always heckling the Muppets but end up sitting back in their balcony seat every show, meaning they must have to enjoy it enough to come back. They're, like the kids say, a little tsundere. -"The internet is a completely different culture isn't it." -"You said it. Everything here is immediately followed by sarcastic comments and nasty responses." -"Yup, we're finally where we belong." -"Do-ho-ho-ho-hoh!"

They hate everything together

[petalsscribbles]

1. negotiations

Yn can't help but note just how big and prestigious Jay's workplace looks as he stands in front of it. One can only guess just how many floors it has. Either way its overwhelming appearance does not help ease that strange almost foreboding feeling in his chest. He sighs and braces himself as he enters.

The receptionist is dressed as everyone would expect. Grey pencil skirt reaching just below her knees and a jacket to match. Rectangular glasses sit on her pointy nose as she types away with her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Hi, I'm Yn. I'm here to see Mr. Park." He says taming his shaking voice.

"Ah welcome!" She says with a practiced warm tone and a perfect smile. "I'll let you through. Mr. Park's office is on the 20th floor."

"Thank you." He answers and she bows her head slightly. Just as instructed, Yn passes the terminals and makes his way towards the elevators, pressing the right button once he's in. The ride is torturously long, or at least it feels like it. He can't help but wonder how much has Jay changed since he last saw him. He, Wonyoung and Yn used to hang out as kids, until Jay moved to America for his studies at 13 and he hasn't seen him since. Well, until now, but Yn figures they'll have plenty of time to catch up once they're married.

The walk from the elevator to Jay's office is short and a secretary with another practiced smile lets him in.

Jay's office is spacious, to say the least, perhaps way too big for a single person to work in.

"Yn, I'm glad you could make it." Jay says, getting up from his desk and walking over to his future husband. Yn can only let out a quiet hi.

Face wise he hasn't changed all that much, still very much the boy he knew. Body is a whole another story though. He towers over Yn and the suit he's wearing highlights his athletic figure.

Jay puts his hand on Yn's back and leads him to the chair infront of his desk, taking his place on the opposite side once Yn is comfortably seated.

"Thank you for making time for me." He starts "You must have been surprised."

"A little but it's okay." Yn admits.

"Okay, let's get to work. When it comes to engagement, I plan to propose to you on my grandfather's birthday party. There will be a lot of cameras already so it's convenient."

Convenient.

Yeah, that's what this is. That's what they are. Convenient.

"Now for the marriage itself. Do you want to move in with me, or should we get a new apartment?"

"A new one." Yn answers. Jay nods.

"Should we sleep in one bed or do you want a room on your own?"

"Let's share, in case someone visits."

"What about chores and cooking? Do you want me to hire someone or should we split?"

"I think we can manage our own apartment."

"I agree. We're not toddlers." Jay says and Yn chuckles slightly. "This is just my idea but, I think we should do skinship at home, so it doesn't seem forced when we're in public."

"Yeah, okay. We can do that." yn answers quickly, trying to hide his initial surprise.

"Are you fine with pet names?" Jay adds.

"Yeah, as long as it's nothing too cringy."

"Okay. Anything you'd like to add?"

Yn thinks for a second. There is a big part of marriage that they have not covered yet.

Intimacy.

"Are you going to find a mistress?"

"What?!" He exclaims, losing his composure as his eyes widen. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I mean, I assume you probably won't have sex with me so..." Yn trails off. One of the most shocking parts of this whole ordeal is why Jay would marry a man.

"Why wouldn't I?" He asks after taking control of his voice again.

"Aren't you straight?"

"No I'm bisexual."

"Oh." He suddenly feels incredibly dumb. He went to college for Christ's sake of course he could make some discoveries about himself.

"Yn, I won't force you to have sex with me but if either of us had a lover and got caught by press we'd either have to: be branded as a cheater, admit that this is fake or try to convince everyone we have an open marriage. I don't think I have to explain to you why none of those options are good for us."

"Right, right."

"Well if that's all I won't waste any more of your time. But don't forget we can always make adjustments." Jay reminds. Yn just nods and gives him a small smile.

"I'll see you at the party."

a/n: updates probably won't be as frequent as it was with Bad Habits but I'll try my best not to give up on you my pookies

taglist OPEN comment/ send ask to be added

@starchasing-cryptid @onementally-unstabel-kid @nootnootpinguuu @kkurbys @gnusihcom @silkentides @monstaxpuppy @bubblztaro @lavanderxamour @zzzavid

prev masterlist next

[strangemagicc]

WADWSH | Chapter One - The Raffle

masterlist | next>

pairings: 2000s!actor!Steve x fem!Reader, 2000s!bestfriend!Eddie x fem!Reader, love triangle, (based loosely on the movie Win a Date with Tad Hamilton)

summary: Steve is rejected by a movie’s director and will go to any lengths to win the role.

author’s note: I will not reveal who steals reader's heart, we're all going on this ride together 😉 but feel free to try to persuade me 🩵

w/c: 1.8k

warnings: none, this is a slow build type of thing!

Steve paced the length of his agent’s office, agitation rippling through him in waves. He pulled at his hair, turning to Dennis with a question, and thought better than to ask. Afraid of the answer. The room smelled smoky and sweet, the clouds from Dennis’ cigar creating a haze.

“Will you sit down, kid?” The man asked, tapping the butt of the cigar against an ashtray resting on his desk, exhaling another puff of smoke. Steve looked at the man with a raised eyebrow, sitting on the leather sofa with a huff. Petulant. Eying the expanse of the room. It was small, light green walls slightly faded, the leather sofa crammed against a wall leaving just enough space for the large wooden desk Dennis sat at. The older man continued to shuffle through papers, adjusting his red tie whenever it got in the way. Steve’s aggravation was building, growing louder than the low hum of the nearby television with his face plastered in the headlines. He turned his head to the TV and back to Dennis.

“How could he pass me up? I’m perfect for that role,” Steve was annoyed, fingers tugging at his hair as he tried to ignore Ryan Seacrest bemoaning his latest antics.

“Oh I don’t know,” Dennis pointed at the television, “wonder if it has anything to do with your bad reputation.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. The man rolled his eyes, taking a drag out of his cigar as Steve shook his head.

“What am I supposed to do?” Steve shrugged, palms outstretched in front of him like a plea as he looked at his agent.

“You need to change your image. No one wants to hire you when your reputation is a self-centered playboy,” Jones sneered.

“I’m not self-centered,” Steve argued, jumping from the couch and pacing the small space in front of his agent’s desk once again.

“That’s not what they think. And I hate to break it to you kid but what they think matters. Word of mouth is Hollywood’s currency. No one wants to work with a diva. No one wants to work with a selfish main star. Not in today’s culture. Your reputation is your career.” Steve nodded at his words as they sank in. The truth of it all.

“How do I change my image?”

“You need to be Mr. Charitable. Spend some time away from the big lights, get out there with the little people, and contribute. Be the complete opposite of who you have been.” Dennis flicked the butt of his cigar above the ashtray and rested it on the glass lip. Steve moved closer to his desk resting his hands on the wood, muscles flexing as he pressed into the surface.

“I will do whatever you need me to do,” Dennis smiled, crooked and a little mean. Teeth yellowed from years of smoking.

“Leave it to me, kid.” Steve nodded, confident in his new agent. Dennis Jones was the most sought-after representation, able to get any star into any role. More than that he was able to scrub any image squeaky clean. Steve sat back on the sofa, relaxing into the cushions as he played with his phone. Thoughts on the movie role of his dreams, one that would launch his already buzzing career into the stratosphere.

“Have you heard of Feeding America?” Steve looked at the man with a confused face, eyebrows pushed together creating a line on his forehead.

“Uh, no?” Jones rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself. Of course, Steve Harrington didn’t know of any charitable causes.

“It’s a nonprofit, they have food banks around the country. Main focus is helping families stay fed. If that wasn’t obvious,” his response was pointed, a little jab at Steve.

“They’re looking to raise some money, and you’re going to help them.” Jones pointed at Steve sternly.

“What? I just fork over some cash?” Harrington rolled his eyes.

“No, kid, that would be too easy. You need to get involved, do something other than partying.” Steve scoffed, cheeks burning red at the man’s words but he couldn’t argue. He’d spent nearly a decade in the spotlight and most of it wasn’t good. Drinking, partying, dating and never settling down. Settling down seemed like a death sentence.

“So, what? I just show up at a few food banks, take a few candids, and boom I have the role?” Steve shrugged as if it were obvious but his agent laughed.

“You’re gonna have to do more than that, playboy. We’re going to raffle off time with you. Dinner. Movies. The whole nine yards.”

“Like a date?” Dennis pointed to Steve like he was finally getting it.

“Exactly! Who doesn’t want to win a date with Steve Harrington?” Steve could think of a few names.

“Great so I go on a date with some super fan and how does that help?”

“Because in the meantime you’re going to be laying low. Skipping parties, avoiding bars, no dates with this week’s cover girl. No, you’ll be volunteering. Sobering up. The next time America sees you you’ll be helping a charity out of the kindness of your heart, spending time with a devoted fan. Tinsel town will eat it up,” the man laughed, chuckles turning into a smoker’s cough.

“Like I said kid, leave it to me. All you need to do is listen.” Steve nodded, sarcastic rebuttal swallowed.

Family Video was empty. Quiet. The only sound filling the silence was the movie trailers playing on a constant loop on the TVs situated throughout the store. You sat at the checkout counter, eyes half-hooded as you watched the door. Wishing a customer to walk through. Anything to make the time pass quicker. Boredom nearly making you drift to sleep. You tapped a pencil on the counter, a groan escaping your lips as you laid your head on the cold surface. Begging the universe to please please please end your suffering. Or make it a little more entertaining. The bell above the door jingled causing your head to snap up, eyes wide with excitement.

“Welcome to Fam-“ your shoulders sagged at the site of your best friend running giddily through the door.

“Oh it’s just you,” you teased, propping yourself onto your elbows as she approached. You’d known Holly since she had the misfortune of moving to Hawkins in the second grade and you became instant friends. Going through school, graduating, and now working at the same dead-end job together. Until lightning struck or something better came along.

“I’m going to ignore that because holy shit I have exciting news!” Her blonde hair bounced with her, excitement evident in her brown eyes.

“Spill,” you shrugged. Antsy.

“So Steve Harrington-“

“Total babe,��� you interrupted.

“Yes, Steve Harrington the total babe. He did a new interview and guess what?” You were already excited at the prospect of reading something new about him. He’d been out of the public eye for some time.

“What?” She bounced on her toes, excitement bubbling over.

“You can enter to win a date with him!” She squealed and your eyebrows shot up.

“What? How?”

“Apparently he’s working with a charity to raise money so he’s auctioning off a date. Well more like a raffle but every dollar raised is going to them.” Her smile was wide exposing the cute gap between her two front teeth.

“Let me see!” You grabbed the magazine from her shuffling through the pages until your eyes landed on the spread. You skimmed the article, eyes softening at his sentiments.

“God, could he be more of a dreamboat?” You swooned.

“You have to enter!” You nodded your head, eyes fixed on the new photos of Steve, and already decided that even if you didn’t win at least the money wouldn’t be wasted on another treat day at the mall.

“What’s got you girls so excited?” The familiar rasp of Eddie’s voice grew louder as he left his office.

“Hey there, Mr. Manager,” Holly poked at him and Eddie rolled his eyes. He was newly promoted, and out of the three of you, he hated the job the most.

“Yeah, yeah. Are you going to fill me in?” He rested his elbows beside yours, warm skin rubbing against your exposed arm as he leaned over to read what you were staring at. His curly brown hair tickled your cheek, the scent of his shampoo filling your space. Green apple. You turned to him, his chocolate brown eyes already fixed on you.

“I’m going to win a date with Steve Harrington,” you were speaking it into existence though the odds were small. Eddie snorted at your words.

“Okay, stalker.” He teased you and you stuck your tongue at him.

“It’s totally legit, see.” Holly pointed to the article, the details of the contest, and the grand prize.

“Why would you want to go on a date with that loser anyway?”

“You think all the guys I like are losers,” you gave him a pointed look.

“Because they are,” he insisted. Holly pushed her lips together as she watched the two of you bicker. You were the only one completely unaware that Eddie was totally and completely in love with you.

“Chuck was nice,” you insisted.

“Chuck couldn’t keep a job, and I know he used a bowl to cut his hair. Total scrub,” Eddie contested.

“Wow, this has been totally fun. I think I see some videos that need shelving,” Holly interrupted and darted to the cart with stacks of returned DVDs.

“Are you really going to waste your money to maybe win a date with some Hollywood loser?” Eddie asked, voice lower as he looked at you. You turned your body towards him and looked up into his gaze.

“Best money I’ll ever spend,” you poked his chest with each syllable. Teasing. You enjoyed getting a rise out of Eddie and had since the two of you met when you were nine. You and your grandmother had just moved into the trailer park and Eddie was the only kid your age. You became fast friends, best friends by all accounts.

“I can’t imagine that’s true,” Eddie stated, gaze searching yours.

“Just wait, I’m going to be in these papers soon. Steve Harrington’s super hot mystery date,” you raised your hand to emphasize the headline as you imagined it.

“For charity,” Eddie corrected.

“But still super hot,” you shrugged and turned to help Holly. Eddie sat there silent, cheeks a pretty pink, hand gripped on the counter as he worked through the nerves. The way your words affected him. The way you affected him.

You went home that night, paging through your own copy of the magazine reading and re-reading Steve’s words. Skimming the entry rules. For every five dollars spent you were given one ticket for the raffle and so you decided to spend fifty. Ten chances at winning what you assumed would be the most romantic night with your celebrity crush. You grabbed the phone receiver and dialed the number listed, heart beating as the line trilled until the operator picked up.

“Hi, I’d like to enter to win a date with Steve Harrington.”

-

tag list: @halflifejess, @allthingsjoeq, @wiltedflowersundertowers

*if you requested to be tagged but were not listed it was because: your blog did not pull up to verify your age or there was no indication that you are 18+.

click here to be added to tag list 🩵

[havvkinsqueen]

Positivity anon here! Could I ask you to shout out to your five fave blogs? Just to make someone smile today and let them know you love their blog! Maybe even say a little about why!

-- Hello, positivity anon! I think I'll shoutout some people that I don't usually shoutout! @cruelprincae @prscttss @peachwrites @selfruin @daemondaes

I look up to each and every one of these blogs. They're all super talented and make my dash such a happier place. Any time I see their icons I smile and can't wait to see what they've reblogged. I definitely would recommend following them! You won't be sad you did.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My You-niverse: Bud Cooper

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Bud Cooper x F!Reader, throughout the series: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Warning: a bit of period typical sexism, reader is pregnant

Series Masterlist

When you kick the blankets off you, your eyes widento see your round belly. Oh shit. Oh fuck. You were pregnant.

Not Marc notices you just sitting there and came back to you with concern, "You okay? Is the baby okay?" He kneels down and gently presses a hand to your stomach, "You okay, princess? You giving mommy some trouble this morning?"

"We're having a girl?" you ask in disbelief.

Not Marc's brows furrow, "Yeah. We found out weeks ago, remember?" he reaches up and places the back of his hand to your forehead, "You're not feeling warm. Do you feel dizzy or anything?"

You shake your head, "No. No, it's-I had a weird dream. I suppose I'm just trying to make sure this isn't another one."

Your supposed husband shakes his head, "It's not, honey. I'm here," he cups your face, love in his eyes, "The baby and I are here. We're real."

You nod, "Yeah, yeah, okay."

He wasn't comforted by your answer so he stands with a grunt, "I'm calling out of work today."

"No, no, love, it's okay. I promise."

"I just want to make sure that nothing happens to you two, okay?"

Not Marc walks over to the phone on the nightstand and dials a number. He asks the phone operator to direct his call to his work, "Hey, Mike. It's Bud Cooper." Bud, so that was his name, "Yeah, the wife isn't feeling too well. I'm staying back just in case anything happens to her or the baby. Yeah...sounds like a plan. Alright. Bye."

He hangs the phone up and looks back at you, "Maybe we should get some food in ya and see if that helps?"

Bud helps you out of bed and guides you down the stairs to the kitchen. He has you sit at the table and looks around the kitchen, "Um...where can I find the pan?"

"Cabinet next to the stove," your answer surprises you. How you already have the knowledge and layout of the kitchen is new.

Bud chuckles to himself, "You know how useless I am in the kitchen. This is the women's domain," he opens the cabinet and grabs the pan. He sets it on the shelf and continues to ask you where everything is.

You eventually get up and grab everything for him, but then he has you sit back down, "Okay, I can cook all this myself. See, I'm not completely helpless."

You hum, not loving Bud's current views on women. Sure, this was the norm of this time period, but that didn't mean it didn't leave a bad taste in your mouth.

While Bud cooked, you decided to grab the newspaper out front, but not after promising him that you'd be careful. When you picked up the newspaper, the year stared back up to you 1955.

"Oh wow."

"Good morning, Y/N!" a woman from across the street waves at you as she kisses her husband on the cheek.

You wave back and proceed to walk back inside the home...your home. As you sit back down, Bud places a plate of breakfast and some juice in front of you. Everything is cooked just how you liked it.

He then sits across the table from you and grabs the newspaper you brought in. He places his glasses on and reads while shoveling eggs into his mouth.

Your stomach jolts and you gasp, making Bud immediately rushing to your side, "What is it? What's wrong?"

You smile up at him, "She kicked."

"She's becoming more active, huh?" he kneels down and presses a hand to his belly again, "Looks like you're up and awake, huh, princess?" she kicks again and Bud laughs, "Yeah, honey, this is your daddy."

He continues to talk to your little girl and you can't help but get emotional at the sight. You and Marc are married, yes, but you didn't talk about kids yet. You were content with or without them, but you weren't sure on Marc's views. Considering how he grew up, you're sure he'd be apprehensive.

If, no, when you get back to him, you'll probably have to discuss this with him. Because you can't help but imagining Marc in Bud's position right now. You see the love in his eyes and you just know that Marc, hell even Steven and Jake, would be good fathers.

"You okay care there, lovebug?"

You wipe your eyes, "Yeah, just really happy."

Bud smiles up at you, "I am too."

__________________________

Marc and Steven never thought that hopping through multiple universes was so exhausting. So far they'd been to three different universes. They had to make sure they were in disguise, not wanting to disrupt anything in each universe. But every version they've seen of you, made them miss you even more.

Doctor Strange, seeing the worry and hopelessness in their eyes comforted them, "We'll get her back. It just...takes time."

Steven, currently fronting, shook his head, "I know she'll be okay. She's strong. I just...if someone travels through so many universes, will it effect them in any way?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest."

___________________________

You've been in this universe for less than a day and you already dread leaving. You didn't think yourself of a motherly type, but every time you looked down at your belly or rubbed it, your heart felt so full.

Despite ensuring Bud that you're fine, your "husband" insisted you shouldn't be working on the nursery. So he rolled up his sleeves and worked on painting the room. A baby pink already adorned two walls. How cliche to make your baby girl's nursery fairytale themed. She was your princess after all.

While Bud works on the other two walls, you put up some pictures and artwork. You take a step back and observe your work. You find yourself smiling and rubbing your belly.

"Everything's turning out great, I'd say!" Bud exclaims, coming up next to you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

You nod and he kisses your head, "Why don't you start up lunch while I finish this up, hm?"

"Sounds good!" you peck his lips and waddle your way to the kitchen, when you enter the threshold, you're suddenly somewhere else.

"Fuck!" you whisper to yourself and you're suddenly tackled to the floor as a rain of bullets fire your way.

"I fucking told you to get down!"

"Marc?" you ask to your..husband?

"Pope! Let's go!" another man runs into the room, helping your husband's doppleganger to his feet and then you.

"More hostiles are headed this way. This mission is fucked."

'Pope' nodded and then turned to you, "Rosa, you good?"

You gulp and nodded, "Y-Yeah. I'm good." you looked down noticed the tactical gear you're donning. A knife strapped to your thigh and a gun to your other.

Who were you in this universe?

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Living our 'perfect' life | Part 2

PAIRING | Husband!Loki Laufeyson x Wife!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.4K

SUMMARY | Loki created a fake reality to be back with you, and he is absolutely delighted to have you back by his side. SHIELD isn't all that happy with his shenanigans, and when you find out about his plans too, you try to convince him to let you go for good. He doesn't take this lightly and when he loses you again, he completely spirals out of control as he tracks down the Darkhold to destroy anything and everything he possibly can.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Pregnancy & birth (non-explicit), slight gaslighting, an emotional goodbye, pretty major angst, little bits of fluff, Dark!Loki near the end.

A/N | This is part 2 of the request from @glitteryeggalmondherring, and it is important that you have read that one before reading this, otherwise this part won't make as much sense. Thank you for your amazing request and I'm hoping I could do it the justice it deserves! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Part 1

Loki couldn't possibly be happier than he is at this very moment. He got married to the love of his life, and now you're pregnant with two of his babies. When you found out that you're expecting twin boys it was a bit of a shock at first, but now the two of you are happier than you ever thought possible. ''So, what are we going to name them?'' you ask them as the two of you are walking through a store filled with all the baby stuff you could even dream of and more. ''I was thinking of giving them human names, so they would have that in common with you. Their last names are automatically going to be 'Lokison', so that way we have the best of both worlds!'' he says and you nod.

''Makes sense, but that doesn't answer my question,'' you said with a soft giggle. Loki could never get enough of hearing that, and he softly squeezed the hand he was holding as a sign of his love. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he pulls you in for a little kiss, but your belly is in the way so it isn't as easy anymore. You're almost 7 months pregnant at this point, and seeing how they're two big guys, you're stretched pretty far already and kisses become less easy, but that doesn't mean the two of you don't kiss anymore. Oh no, ever since you got pregnant, Loki has gone almost feral in the bedroom and has to touch you whenever he can, wherever he can.

''What about Steven and James?'' you say, and Loki thinks about it. ''Are you wanting to name our kids after Captain America and the Winter Soldier?'' Loki says, and your face immediately turns sour. ''Why wouldn't I name the boys after them? The two of them are heroes and not to mention, they were some of my best friends! Besides, Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore when I met him,'' you pout, and Loki gives in. ''Okay, fine. We can name them after Steve and Bucky,'' he sighs because he knows he won't win this war.

The two of you picked out everything you needed for the nursery and took it home, wanting to get started sooner rather than later. When you were sitting in the rocking chair Loki got you as soon as the two of you found out you were pregnant, someone knocked on the door. ''I'll get it, you can stay here and sit pretty, darling,'' he says and you smile happily, not having to get onto your feet is an absolute blessing right now. When Loki opened the door he pretty much tried to shut it right away when he saw who was in front of it. Nick Fury was standing there with 2 SHIELD Agents, and he had a slight feeling about where this was going. It wouldn't end well in whatever way he would spin it, so he would very much like all three of them to leave them alone.

''Oh I don't think so, Laufeyson,'' Fury said when he tried to shut the door in his face again, without luck. ''We're here to talk, and if you just cooperate everything will be fine, and there won't be any more people hurt than you have so far,'' he says in a stern tone. Loki decided to just make a run for it and quickly turned around and upstairs, to where you were sitting in the nursery. All he cares about is you, and your twins of course. The three men are behind him but Loki is quick enough, shutting the door with his magic and sealing it so they can't get in. He grabs you and holds you close, consoling you as you sob softly, not sure what's happening but scared nevertheless.

They keep banging on the door and trying to barge it down, but Loki's magic is strong enough to keep it upright, and he just holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire time to calm you down. After about an hour and a half the three men go away and leave the two of you alone, but they're coming back with a lot more force later. Right now the two of you are just together, and you're perfectly content with that. ''Loki, why were those men trying to beat down our door...?'' You ask him, but he doesn't want to tell you.

''No reason darling, I've got everything under control right now. It's nothing you have to worry your pretty head about,'' he says, giving you soft kisses on your forehead. The fact that you feel cold to the touch is something Loki doesn't mind, he hasn't ever since he got you back. All he cares about is you, and the fact that he finally gets to live the life you have fantasized about countless times. “I love you, darling, as long as we’re together everything is going to be okay,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Love you too,” you sigh into his chest, and your eyes are slowly falling shut from exhaustion.

Fury made true to his promise and came back again a few times, each time with no luck, but it was starting to wear you out at this point, especially with the way your pregnancy was progressing. Carrying one baby was already difficult, but you’re carrying double the amount of babies, so you also suffer from double the exhaustion. At this point, you’re about 7 months pregnant and you’re on complete bedrest, with Loki doting on your every need. He doesn’t mind because he loves taking care of you in every single way, so this comes naturally to him. However, when you wake up in the middle of the night with the world's worst cramping, Loki jolts awake, worry etched into his features.

“L-Loki, please! I think I’m in labor!” You pant and in an instant he’s on your side of the bed, ready to go to the hospital. “It’s okay darling, you and the boys are doing so well for me,” he says as he jumps into some clothing and helps you into a flowy dress before grabbing your hospital bag, right now you’re glad you packed that a while ago so it was ready to go in case your boys came early. In no time you’re in the car and on the way to the hospital, where you are immediately checked into the labor & delivery ward. It is a smooth labor - it’s Loki’s perfect world after all, and he doesn’t want you to be in pain or uncomfortable.

A few hours later you’re both holding one of your beautiful sons in your arms, and they are almost replicas of Loki. They both have jet-black hair, pale skin, and those gorgeous blue eyes that melt your heart every single time you look into them. And now you’re heart will melt three times as fast when you’re looking into them. “They’re beautiful,” you sigh and Loki agrees. “They are, and they’re ours,” he says with a big smile on his face. You have to stay in the hospital for a few days but once you’re allowed to go home, you couldn’t be happier. You have the love of your life and two beautiful sons. Life is pretty fucking perfect at this point.

But that feeling won’t last, however. SHIELD found out that Loki has created children in his reality, and it throws the entire universe out of whack. Not only should the reality not exist, the boys should never have been born either. When they have been home for less than a month, SHIELD is breaking down the door, but much to their chagrin, no one is home. Loki took you and the boys on ‘vacation’, or that is what he told you, at least. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you weren’t complaining because the four of you were very happy in your slice of heaven for the time being.

~ A few months later ~

The boys are growing like crazy, and enjoying every little bit of attention they can get, but you're getting increasingly suspicious nowadays. You've noticed that something is off about Loki, but you can't quite place your finger on why exactly, so you finally decide to bring it up to him. ''Loki, I know this might sound crazy, but why are Steven and James the only kids in Westview? I haven't seen any in all the time I've got you back...'' you say with uncertainty laced in your voice. ''You must be mistaken, dollface, they're all just sleeping right now! I think you've been so busy with our angels that you just don't notice them,'' he says, trying to sweet talk you out of knowing the truth, finding out about what he has done.

Your suspicion doesn't waver, however, and you bring it up more often, each time hearing the same excuse, and you're feeling like something must be wrong with you. Something must be wrong in your brain or the way you see the world because you trust Loki... right? Finally, every single piece falls into place when Fury and his men come by again, but this time you happen to be in the kitchen, and you can overhear their conversation. ''...asking for the last time, Laufeyson. Stop this or we will make you stop it!'' is all you heard and your suspicions were confirmed. This isn't real, you aren't alive and your boys never really existed. It is all a twisted reality Loki made up when he lost you.

She can't take it any longer and steps into the hallway where Loki is talking to Fury. ''Loki, you should listen to them. What you did isn't healthy for any of us, but mostly not for you,'' you start as you take his face in your hands, cupping them softly as you look into his eyes. ''Please, I need you to listen to these men, they only want what's best for you,'' you plead, but Loki doesn't want to hear any of it. He shakes his head slightly as tears roll down his face. ''Please, don't make me do this, Y/N, I can't go through this again,'' he says as he pulls you into a hug, holding you tight against his chest.

''I know you can, Loki. Because I promise I will find you in the next life, and every life after that one. We will always be together, but we can't be together like this. I'm not real, your boys aren't real, and this isn't healthy for you. Loki, it hurts me to say this to you, but you have to let me go. You are stronger than you think, but you're causing everyone around you so much pain,'' you tell him, now softly crying too. At least now you get to say goodbye to him, unlike the last time, when you were ripped out of life so suddenly during the war against Thanos. ''These months we shared were nothing short of perfect, but it has to end. I'm sorry to tell you, but it does,'' you say, and Loki squeezes his eyes shut to keep himself from crying again.

''I can't, darling, I really can't lose you-'' he says again, but you interrupt him. ''YES, you can! You are way stronger than you give yourself credit for! But at least now you get to say goodbye to me. This time I won't be taken from you like last time,'' you tell him and in less than a second your lips found his, giving him a soft and tender kiss. Your goodbye kiss. The last one you'll ever share, and as much as it breaks your heart to see him like this, you know it's for the best that he lets you go. ''You can say goodbye to the boys too if you want. They love you so much,'' you say as you pick both of them up. When he hears the little giggles coming from them he completely breaks.

He falls onto his knees in defeat, feeling like he lost everything all over again. ''I'm so sorry for every bit of pain I've ever caused you, and I wish I could take it all back,'' Loki sobs, tears staining your cheeks now too. ''I love you so much, Y/N, and even though it will hurt me more than anything, I will do it for you,'' he says, and slowly his magic starts to weaken, and the reality he created around all of you fades away. ''We love you, Loki, and I promise we will go and find you in every single lifetime after this time,'' is the last thing you say as Loki watches you, Steven, and James fade into nothing too. Sobbing uncontrollably, he whispers ''I will always love you, darling. In every lifetime, I will find you,''. It's the last thing he says before he gets taken away by Fury and his men.

~ 10 years later ~

Living without you again was absolute hell for Loki, and he changed completely. Where he used to be a loveable goofball, he has turned into the complete opposite, wreaking complete havoc wherever he goes. He has been on the run for a few years and is on the hunt for the Darkhold, which proved to be harder than he thought. He never got over the fact that he lost you again, and his mental health also rapidly declined. Falling into a deep depression and trying to end it multiple times, all without success, has led them to where he is now. Outside an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere, supposedly the place where the Darkhold is being housed.

He walks in and much to his surprise, the leads weren't wrong. There it lies in front of him, the book he has been desperately searching for, ready to be taken and used. He picks it up and lets out a maniacal laugh at the feeling of it. Finally, he can create a new reality where he is the leader, where he will have you and his sons, and where no one will ever try and stop him. With this book, he knows he's stronger than anyone in the universe, and he can't wait to get started. It doesn't take him long to create another reality, and there you are, right back by his side. The boys are on either of your sides, one next to you and one next to Loki. ''Welcome home, darling. I missed you,'' is all he says before taking your hand and walking into your new reality. Together.

[beesonhoneytoast]

Howl’s Moving Castle Incorrect Quotes

another shitpost bc I have problems 🎐

Ryan: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life  Sophie: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years!  Howl: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this!  Markl: I knew I lost that potential somewhere!  Calcifer: My moral code, is that you?  Ryan:  Ryan: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

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Howl: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?  Ryan: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies  Calcifer: Socks are Feetie Heaties  Markl: Forks are Stabby Grabbies  Ryan: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties  Calcifer: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies  Markl: Stamps are Lickie Stickies  Sophie, annoyed: You are disappointments

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Howl: If you had to choose between Ryan and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?  Sophie: That depends, how much money are we taking about?  Ryan: Sophie!  Howl: 63 cents.  Sophie: I'll take the money.  Ryan: SOPHIE!!!

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Howl: He stole from me first! Sophie: Mhm. Howl: Stole my heart... Ryan: It is still illegal to commit murder.

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Howl: Fuck. Ryan: We've got to work on your cursing. Howl: Why? I'm pretty good at cursing already.

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Howl, Ryan, and Sophie are sitting on a bench Markl: Why do you guys look so sad? Howl: Sit down with us so we can tell you. *Markl sits down* Ryan: The bench is freshly painted.

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Howl: I think we're missing something.  Ryan: Teamwork?  Markl: Cohesion?  Sophie: A general sense of what we’re doing?

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Howl: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Ryan: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Howl: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING SOPHIE WITH ME Markl, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

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Howl: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys.  Sophie: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!  Ryan: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!  Markl: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting.  Howl: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

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Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.  Howl: Shit.  Ryan: Wait, three?  Cop: Yeah?  Sophie: OH MY GOD MARKL FELL OFF!!!

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Howl: *Screams*  Ryan: *Screams louder to assert dominance*  Sophie: Should we do something?!  Markl, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

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Howl: I think Markl was right.  Ryan: I'm surprised he hasn’t marched in here to say 'I told you so.'  Sophie: He wouldn't do that.  Markl: You're right, Sophie. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that.  Markl: *turns around, the shirt he’s wearing says 'Markl Told You So' on the back*

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Howl: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?  Ryan: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Markl?  Markl: Probably “road work ahead”.  Sophie: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

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Howl: Dammit, Ryan! Ryan: What?! It wasn’t me! Howl: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Sophie! Sophie: Not me either. Howl: Oh...Then who set the house on fire? Calcifer: *whistles*

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Ryan, banging on the door: Howl! Open up! Howl: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Sophie: No, he meant- Markl: Let him finish.

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Howl: Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke.  Markl: Okay, but what is updog?  Sophie: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish.  Ryan: Not, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released.  Calcifer: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden.  Prince Justin: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter.  Markl: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs.  Howl: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current.  Sophie: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway.  Ryan: What’s a henway??  Howl: Oh, about five pounds.

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Howl: Croissants: dropped  Ryan: Road: works ahead  Witch of the Waste: BBQ sauce: on my titties  Markl: Shavacado: fre  Calcifer: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead  Sophie:  Sophie, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

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Howl: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.  Ryan: This knife is actually a magic wand.  Sophie: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel.  Markl: *cocks gun* Magic missile.  Calcifer: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

[laracrofted]

baby, i'm high octane (v)

synopsis: on fourth of july, nora and jake dance around each other.

pairings: jake seresin x nora rogers (oc)

warnings: 18+, minors dni, swearing, alcohol consumption, existential dread, pining and yearning, kissing, no smut here but come back for the next chapter (wc: 7K)

note: i'm sorry for being so slow. i rewrote this chapter like eight times, i'm not even kidding. i also apologize in advance for where i ended this chapter, but the good news is we'll have seven chapters instead of six 😌

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tagging // @theharddeck @frenchyjuju @bioodforbiood @cursedtobe @roosterbruiser @t-nd-rfoot @bethbunnyy @filmflux @djs8891 @mayhemmanaged @sometimesanalice @eli2447 @bradshawsbitch @hangmanbrainrot @startrekfangirl2233 @kandierteveilchen @lostinwonderland314 @hangmanscoming @dempy @mlibbydp @stvrlighttsworld @bellaireland1981 @clancycucumber230 @kmc1989 @averagereader35

June slips away over the weekend, a quiet and unassuming end.

As June fades into July, Sunday becomes Monday becomes Tuesday and so on until soon enough, Fourth of July has arrived and more importantly, so has a long weekend.

God bless America.

On the morning of the Fourth, Nora sleeps in for once.

She wakes up a few minutes before 11:00 AM and refreshed – or at the very least, a little less tired than usual – and reaches for her phone, which is once again, buried under her pillows.

A slew of unread notifications are waiting for her when Nora rolls over and looks at the screen.

Two missed calls. Eleven unread messages. One unread email Nora has definitely been meaning to read for a week now. Definitely.

She ignores the email – because really, what's one more day? – and scrolls through the rest of the notifications.

Natasha, 9:40 AM: Are you awake? 

Natasha, 9:41 AM: I'm going with no because I knocked and didn't get an answer.

Natasha, 10:00 AM: We're heading out to North Coronado Beach in 10-ish. Payback is bringing his girlfriend. Come join us when you're awake if you'd like!

Bradley, 10:05 AM: Do you have any sunscreen I could borrow?

Bradley, 10:06 AM: Phoenix really wants you to come to the beach btw.

Her smile grows as Nora scrolls down and discovers a message each from the rest of the Naval aviators and even one from an unsaved number with a Louisiana area code that she has to assume is Javy.

"Oh my god," Nora laughs. A loud and delighted sound in the soft quiet of the morning. Natasha’s persistence is both amusing and very touching.

She sends Natasha a quick I'm awake, just need to get dressed as proof of life and stares at Jake's message for a solid 30 seconds, gnawing on the edge of her bottom lip.

She swears under her breath and clicks on the message.

Jake, 10:30 AM: So are you really sleeping or are you just afraid to face me in beach volleyball?

Nora, 10:58 AM: Sorry, who is this?

He responds less than a minute later.

Jake, 10:59 AM: Ha ha

Jake, 10:59 AM: Come to the beach.

Jake, 11:00 AM: Javy and I need another person. 

Nora, 11:01 AM: Have you looked on Tinder?

Jake, 11:02 AM: For volleyball, smart ass. We're playing 3 on 3. 

Jake, 11:02 AM: Everyone wants you to come.

Jake, 11:02 AM: I want you to come.

She's never been so grateful to be alone than right now. No one else should have to witness the stupidly wide smile pulling at her lips right now, uninvited. She reads the message again, feeling kind of giddy, which is actually kind of ridiculous.

Like objectively ridiculous.

She is kind of ridiculous. This is getting out of hand.

Like on Sunday morning for instance.

She had woken up in the aftermath of Bradley’s party and that damn dream and remembered the night before in such excruciatingly vivid and cinematic detail – high resolution and state-of-the-art surround sound, like the goddamn IMAX of sex dreams – that she had to deep clean the entire apartment as a distraction.

A several hour get up close and personal with the checkered blue in the bathroom, wondering whether it's ever been cleaned, and later, in a sudden panic, open all of the windows in case you've accidentally poisoned yourself with bleach fumes deep clean.

Her one goal? Don't think about Jake.

So Nora wiped down the counters and didn’t think about Jake and vacuumed the living room, between and under the couch cushions included, and didn’t think about Jake and scrubbed the shower and didn’t think about Jake so hard that Nora needed an actual shower afterward. A cold one.

"Get a grip," Nora says out loud now.

She looks out of the window and sees nothing but a clear and cloudless blue. A perfect beach day.

She'll go, of course.

She'll go because Nora loves the beach – and always has – and because Natasha was kind enough to invite her and because Nora wants to meet Reuben's girlfriend and hang out with all of them.

No other reason.

She wonders, not for the first time, not even for the first time this week, when she became so well versed in lying to herself.

She blows out a prolonged breath and responds to Natasha.

Nora, 11:05 AM: I'll be there in 30.

"Not playing, Rogers?"

Noon is bright and beautiful and clear as Nora lowers her sunglasses ever so slightly and glances up from her book at Bradley. Blinding sunlight pierces her blue eyes almost immediately, and she has to hold up a shielding hand to be able to see him.

Hand still raised, Nora shakes her head in answer.

She had definitely overpacked for the beach. She always does, wanting to be prepared.

A well-worn paperback from her nightstand. Sunscreen. A reusable water bottle. An assortment of snacks. A portable phone charger. Chapstick. A claw clip. More snacks. An old film camera, in case Nora feels inspired.

(She loves the way California looks on film. All faded blues and greens.)

After seeing Reuben serve, Nora had never been more grateful for her own overpacking. Natasha and Reuben alternated subbing in for Nora on Jake and Javy's side, and Nora found a good patch of sand on the sidelines where she can watch from a minimum safe distance.

Nora loves a good bit of healthy competition, like all Leos do, but she's nowhere near competitive enough to play with them. She's much happier here.

"I decided I don't need a concussion," Nora says simply.

"We would've gone easy on you," Bradley protests immediately. His grin is just mischievous enough that Nora doesn't believe him.

"Now I'm convinced," Nora drawls dryly.

Bradley laughs, bending over and reaching into the cooler that Reuben's girlfriend, Gracie – a pretty nurse with a deceptively powerful spike – brought. It's filled with lemonade and water and soda and at the very bottom, beer.

His hand sloshes around in the ice until Bradley pulls a couple of beers from the depths. He offers one to Nora wordlessly.

She is still drinking a can of cold brew from La Colombe so Nora waves him off. He drops the second beer back into the cooler with a faint splash and closes the lid.

"Scooch over," Bradley asks and nudges her leg with the side of his sandy foot.

A cool breeze blows in from the ocean as Nora moves over, and Bradley smells like a summery mixture of coconut sunscreen and sweat, dropping down next to her.

He had to dive for a pass in the last game, and his calves are sandy as Bradley kicks out his legs and buries his toes in the sand.

Ice cold condensation rolls down the side of Bradley's fresh can of beer and drips down his arm onto Nora's legs. She sets her book aside with a frown, not wanting him to drip water on the pages, which are already a little wrinkled from her dropping it in a pool once.

She crosses her legs. Wipes the water from her skin.

Her damp palm smears across his bare shoulder as Nora wipes the water on him. Just to be annoying. She's surprised – and kind of alarmed – by how warm Bradley's skin is, scorching.

His shoulders are already a concerning shade of pink, and Nora asks, "Did you even put on the sunscreen I brought you?"

His chin dips in a nod, and Nora can see smudges of sunscreen residue around his reddening ears. "I burn easily."

He cracks open the beer with a crisp pop and fizz sound, like a sound effect from a Bud Light commercial. A wave of foam rapidly rises, and Bradley slurps it down with a muttered curse, only barely avoiding spilling it all over his lap.

"You should put on more," Nora says. She looks at his back and grimaces. "You're like giving off heat right now."

Another sip, and Bradley lets out an exaggerated ah! sound. "Are you offering to put it on for me? If you wanted to rub my shoulders so badly, you could've asked."

"It's a spray," Nora deadpans.

He visibly holds back a grin, mustache twitching, and Nora rolls her eyes.

Bradley pulls his sunglasses down with a crooked pinky and absentmindedly watches the current game over the edges of the golden rims. Drinks his beer. Reuben, Mickey, and Gracie are facing off against Jake, Javy, and Natasha right now while Bob is refereeing.

She pulls her book back into her lap and leans her chin on her open palm, reading, interpreting his silence as the end of the conversation.

Silly her, right?

She only manages to get through another paragraph and a half when Nora is interrupted again.

"So..." Bradley cuts in casually. "What's up? I feel like I haven't seen you all week."

Her brow scrunches as Nora frowns slightly. "You've seen me."

A drop of sweat rolls down his neck as Bradley shakes his head. "Barely."

"We had lunch yesterday," Nora reminds him. Did Bradley fall on his knees or on his head during that last dive?

"You're usually around more, like in the Ready Room, but I hung out in there a few times between drills, and you were always gone."

"I was in the hangar," Nora explains, deliberately oblivious. She knows Bradley is asking after the why – not the where.

"Why?" Bradley asks, directly so Nora can't dodge him again. She makes a face.

Why, indeed.

Frankly, because Bradley happened to be paired with Jake on a lot of the same drills and so, happened to be on the ground at the same time as him.

Nora isn't avoiding Jake. Per se.

Avoiding him would be unprofessional and also, kind of impossible and not really fair to him. He hasn't done anything. It's her. She has just been a little more... scarce than usual.

Bradley is more collateral damage than anything else.

He looks over before Nora has a chance to compose her face. "Why do you look like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like..." Bradley searches for the right phrase. He seeks wisdom in another sip of beer. "...you're my bunkmate on the carrier about to ask if I can find another place to crash for the night so I can get laid.”

She stares at him blankly. "I'm confused. Are you getting laid? Or am I?"

"Don't change the subject, Rogers."

"Me?" Nora exclaims. "You're the one with the confusing analogy."

"Just..." He waves his beer around. "Tell me."

Sighing, Nora sneaks a subtle – or rather, hopefully subtle –  glance at Jake.

Shirtless, Jake is gleaming in the golden glow of the sun, glistening with an attractive sheen of sweat, all muscles and sun-kissed skin, rolling and flexing and all of those delicious words. He is wearing a backwards baseball cap, damp strands of golden hair swept across his forehead and underneath, making him look ruffled and boyish and so goddamn handsome.

And Jake's arms. His massive arms.

One of those arms wipes across his glistening forehead as Jake spikes the ball and sends Reuben and Mickey diving into the sand on the other side of the net. His cocky grin is blinding.

And even from here, Nora feels her pulse quicken. She feels like a dropped can of soda, one hard shake from bursting open.

She needs to get a grip and soon.

"You don't want to know," Nora promises.

"Tell me," Bradley nudges. "How bad can it really be?"

Well. She did warn him.

"I had a sex dream about Jake."

He chokes. A stream of beer dribbles down his chin and splashes across his bare chest, running down his abdomen in rivulets. Nora holds back a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. 

"Why would you tell me that?" Bradley looks pained, asking the question like, What did I ever do to you? Like, Why do you hate me so much?

"You asked," Nora replies calmly.

Mopping the beer from his chest with a balled-up shirt, Bradley looks pained. He coughs into his elbow. "I did not ask about – "

"Besides," Nora continues, ignoring him. "I needed to tell someone, and I couldn't scar Natasha like this so early in our friendship. I need advice."

"What... exactly is the problem?" Bradley asks, slow and reluctant, with a comical lack of enthusiasm; like she's forced the question out of him at gunpoint.

"Well, I guess I like him." Nora draws her knees in and brushing sand from her skin, warm from the sun, rests her arms on them. "Which is probably a bad idea, I know."

"Probably," Bradley echoes. He bobs his head from side to side, weighing his words, considering. "But really, what's a good idea?"

Surprise makes Nora look at him, sharp and sudden. "What does that mean?"

His shoulder drops into a shrug. "I guess, I mean Hangman is a good enough guy. You could do worse."

Brows raised, Nora asks, "Really? When exactly did you guys kiss and make up?"

Bradley wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Is that what gets you hot these days?"

He laughs when Nora digs her elbow into his side. She snorts despite herself. "You're such an ass. But really, aren't you going to try to talk me out of it? I expected you to be against the idea."

His laughter cools into something more thoughtful, more contemplative as Bradley asks, "Did you know my mom took six months to agree to go out with my dad?” 

She shakes her head.

A kind of sad smile pulls at his mouth. A ghost of a smile. "Yeah. She wanted him to prove himself or something. She wanted someone who'd be serious about her. He obviously did, or I wouldn't be here."

A pause, and Nora patiently waits for him to continue.

"My birthday always brings up a lot of memories. I'm 36 now. Another year older than my dad ever got to be, which never gets any less weird. I never asked, but if she’d known how it would end, I bet she would’ve done some things differently. I know she would’ve done anything for six more months with him.” 

Bradley says, "You like him. He likes you. And you've got what? Four more weeks here?"

A cool dread pools in the bottom of her stomach at the reminder, and Nora nods with a wan smile. Her opposite fist clenches and unclenches where Bradley can't see.

"Exactly. You're not gonna be here forever. Why not see what happens?"

Her knees drop open as Nora crosses her legs. She brushes sand from her ankles, runs her thumb over the delicate bone there, a soothing back and forth motion, meditative. Contemplating.

"He'd just be so..."

Ahead, as Javy prepares to serve, abdomen rippling as the Naval aviator raises his arm high, Jake cups his large hands around his mouth and heckles Reuben and Mickey. They give him the bird in unison, and even Gracie narrows her eyes.

Jake grins widely. So damn pleased with himself.

She drops her gaze before Jake can catch her watching him.

"So smug," Nora finishes. "He'd be so goddamn smug."

Bradley laughs. "Can't argue with you there."

He winds an arm around her shoulders, sympathetic and sweaty, and Nora leans her head on his shoulder. Her own shoulders are warm from sunshine. Her cheeks are pink.

She's probably overdue for a dip in the ocean.

"Do you know where you're going after this? At the end of this project, I mean?" Bradley asks quietly, and when Nora doesn't respond right away, looks at her sidelong. His brown eyes are warm in the afternoon sun, honeyed with flecks of amber. "Or should I not ask?"

Her answering sigh is almost lost amongst the sounds of the ocean waves, gently crashing against the shore, almost but not quite. "Please don't ask."

He acknowledges her words with a hum. "Gotcha."

Soon, Bradley finishes his beer and rejoins Natasha and Bob for the next game, huddling up, and Nora can feel Jake's eyes on her like she can feel the sun on her shoulders, like a burst of warmth.

She gives up any hope of reading her book and lays down. Closes her eyes. Basks in the warmth of the afternoon; in the sounds of gulls overhead and shouts of laughter; in the rush of salt air over her skin, on her tongue.

Everything else washes away, caught in the rising tide and carried out to sea. At least, for now.

A few hours later, after Nora has gone home and rinsed the sweat and sand from her skin and dressed again, she catches a ride with Natasha and Bob to the Hard Deck to meet the rest of the Naval aviators.

Penny is hosting something of a private Fourth of July barbecue – but with more alcohol and aside from a party-sized bag of Lay's chips Nora saw on the bar, no barbecue – in the early evening before San Diego's annual firework show, which kicks off around dusk.

The Hard Deck bar is a sea of khaki uniforms and crisp denim and shades of red, white, and blue, and Penny clearly decorated for the occasion.

A paper banner of red, white, and blue stars hangs across the large windows in the back, rustling like autumn leaves in the slight breeze from the side door. And cross-legged on a barstool by the windows, a cute but highly impractical pair of pale blue suede cowboy boots on her dangling legs, Nora leans an elbow on her knee, watching Jake and Natasha's nine ball game.

Dressed in a linen button-down, which pulls deliciously over his back muscles, Jake knocks a hard-to-reach ball into a pocket with a devil-may-care smirk. Natasha visibly winces.

"Think I want a rematch, Bagman," Natasha announces with a resigned swig of beer.

"Oh, Bagman again, is it?" Jake lets out a low and mocking whistle. "Haven't heard that one in a while. You must really be pissed, huh, Phoenix?"

Brows raised, Jake flawlessly executes a series of complicated shots while holding her dark gaze, which grows progressively steelier with every click and clack.

"Nora," Natasha says in a scary calm voice. "You can probably reach him best over there. Would you mind strangling Bagman for me?"

"Happily," Nora quips.

Jake makes a whole show of clutching his chest and pretending to be deeply offended, which lasts for all of 20 seconds. "No one likes a sore loser, Trace."

And Bob – who until now has been quietly observing from a barstool on Natasha's end – carefully sweeps cracked peanut shells and popcorn residue from his lap and chimes in with some much-needed optimism.

"You can still win. You still have..."

He launches a long-winded and strategic breakdown of all the different strategies and angles Natasha has left in her arsenal, counting them off. As if Natasha is competing in some Las Vegas championship, not playing a few amicable – well, maybe semi-amicable – rounds in a dive bar.

And while Nora is a very casual enjoyer of pool and doesn't understand half of what Bob is saying, she does understand that Jake is beating Natasha. Badly. Obnoxiously so.

An argument will definitely break out if Jake wipes the floor with Natasha. Nora can feel it in the air, like a crackle of electricity, an indigo downdraft before a summer storm.

So as Jake grows closer, setting up for the coupe de grâce, Nora catches the crisp sleeve of his linen button-down, fabric pulling tight across his muscular bicep. 

He pauses. Turns. 

Forehead wrinkling, Jake looks down at Nora, expectant.

He smells... so damn good. Focus.

"Don't be an asshole," Nora says coolly.

"You'll have to be more specific, I'm afraid."

She gives him a withering look, and god, Jake definitely wants to laugh. She can see it in his eyes, bright and gleaming and green and so close.

"About the game," Nora clarifies dryly. "Don't be an asshole about the game."

His gaze drops down to where Nora is still holding his sleeve. She releases it as if burned.

Amusement creases the corners of his eyes, and Jake drawls, "No promises, sweetheart," and pulls away.

Even so, Jake's next move – one that could've easily been a game ender – is a little less precise, a little less powerful than his previous one. It’s not enough to sink the nine ball. 

And Natasha lives to see another turn. 

A Tears for Fears song comes on as Natasha openly celebrates, drawing her fist down, victorious. Bob and Mickey cheer and clap from the sidelines. Her own personal cheerleaders.

Nora's lips curl upwards.

Three Naval aviators are notably absent from the group at the back of the Hard Deck right now. Reuben is with Gracie, who wanted to get a good spot for the fireworks on Harbor Island, and Bradley had gone straight from the beach to Captain Mitchell's and is now late.

(Bradley sent her a message peppered with various emojis and general incoherence but ending in L8, which was easy enough to understand.)

Javy is around here... somewhere. He vanished into the crowd like 20 minutes ago for a refill and some snacks and never came back. He's probably catching up with some of the Naval officers who had waved at him as Javy came in.

She knows Javy would've clapped for Jake, had Javy been here.

So Nora claps for him, a light clap, catching Jake's attention with the motion, not the sound. She's rewarded with a broad grin as Jake leans on the cue.

He retrieves his half-full glass from the counter underneath the windows and tips the amber liquid in her direction. A gunslinger in an old Western, tipping his cowboy hat at the nearest woman in the saloon. 

She raises her own glass in return, and Jake grins, wide and slow and sensual and damn. He looks her up and down, gaze lingering on her cowboy boots, not saying a damn word, not needing to say a damn word.

A warm feeling rises in her chest like Nora's overindulged in champagne. Goddamn.

Jake still wins in the end, but not by as much as he could've.

As Natasha racks the pool balls, resetting the table for the next game, Nora drains the rest of her Old Fashioned, which was mostly ice now anyway, and carries her empty glass over to the bar.

Penny is busy performing her duties as hostess – meeting and greeting and mingling. She'd made her way over and said hello soon after Nora arrived – so a bartender Nora doesn't recognize is behind the bar right now.

She sets her glass down and pulls out her phone for a distraction while Nora is waiting. She opens Instagram and after scrolling, sees Natasha posted a couple of pictures from Moonlight Rollers on Sunday morning.

In one of the photos, Nora is leaning on Natasha's shoulder, lids lowered and sparkly, grin wide and drunken. Another is a group picture where Bradley has a big arm around both Natasha and Nora's shoulders, standing on either side of him, trying not to fall on his ass again.

A smile lights up her face as Nora likes the post and shares it on her Instagram story. Adding a disco ball and some confetti in the corner.

It's been a while since Nora's posted on Instagram. How long has it been? Since France, maybe?

She clicks on her profile and – 

"Hi. You're Nora, right?"

He's definitely around her age. Cute enough with sand-colored hair that curls around his ears and dimples. Blue eyes. He looks like a classic California surfer.

He looks vaguely familiar, but Nora can't remember his name.

"Depends," Nora says coyly. She slides her phone into her back pocket and crosses her arms. "Should I be worried?"

He's confident enough to laugh. A slightly apologetic sound.

"Not at all. I probably should've led with..." He sticks out a hand, smiling. "I'm Aidan. I'm an AM on the Naval base – an Aviation Structural Mechanic. I've seen you around."

Ah. She can place him now.

Aidan had supervised one of the camera installations last week. She'd exchanged all of five words with him. He looks different, not dressed in coveralls.

He's not the only one. She probably looks different too.

She's braided her pale hair down her back, and a vintage Born in the USA Word Tour shirt slopes over her shoulders, cropped and loose, barely grazing the denim waistband of her light wash cut-offs – which are a smidge shorter than she remembered.

"Have you?" Nora asks. "I must be pretty memorable."

Aidan flushes, and Nora bites back a smirk.

"You're, uh... We don't have a lot of civilian contractors on the base right now. It'd be kind of hard not to remember you, I think."

Her mouth opens in a smile. "I think I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

"You should," Aidan promises in a rush of breath. His blue eyes zero in on her empty glass. "What're you drinking? Maybe I could – "

"Making friends, Hollywood?"

Of course. Nora kind of wants to laugh.

She actually does laugh when 'Born to Run' by Bruce Springsteen comes on over the speakers, covering her mouth, and Jake bites back a smile, eyes sparkling, looking so damn pleased with himself.

Nora looks at him over her shoulder from under her dark lashes, blue eyes crinkling. "Wrong album, Texas."

He only grins.

Heart racing, Nora looks away. "You know Jake, right, Aidan?"

Nodding, Aidan grunts, "Hangman" with a neutral expression so practiced Nora knows all of the AMs must hate Jake. How many F-18 repairs have probably needed to be done in the months the Daggers have been stationed here?

"Howdy."

Jesus Christ. Nora rolls her eyes.

Jake regards the AM with a glued-on insufferable asshole smile until Aidan inhales – one of those sharp well, I better go inhales – and sure enough: "Well, I should get going."

"Oh, so soon?"

Nora kicks Jake in the ankle. His grin only widens.

Aidan looks between them with an unreadable expression and says, "Maybe I'll see you around, Nora. Happy Fourth," with a forced smile and leaves.

After, Nora bites down on the inside of her cheek to hold back a laugh.

"You're so irritating," Nora says.

"Am I?" Jake counters. "Why're you smiling then?"

She doesn't answer.

Grinning, Jake spots the bartender and flags him down with a quick and efficient, "I'll get another beer and another Old Fashioned for the lady here. Thanks, man."

"Presumptuous. And what if I wanted something else?"

His brows rise. "Did you?"

No but...

She could have.

“We’ll never know now,” Nora replies, stubborn, chin raised.

Jake reaches over and gives the end of her braid a gentle and light-hearted tug. So playful and casual. She gapes at him, and Jake grins down at her, shaking with suppressed laughter, eyes alight.

Her stomach does a somersault and then some. A full Olympic routine.

"Excuse me? Are you 12?"

But Nora is laughing.

Jake slides into the empty space beside her. Close enough for Nora to feel the warmth of him.

"What were you and AM Aidan chatting about over here? You know Phoenix made him cry once?" Jake asks. He sounds unbearably amused.

"Literally nothing. He was definitely about to ask me out though," Nora replies.

"Poor guy," Jake croons. His smirk is smug as all hell. "You'd eat him alive. Guy like that wouldn't even know what to do with you."

His words are drenched in implication, like Jake would know.

And against her will, Nora flushes.

He notices, of course, because Jake notices everything.

Luckily, the Hard Deck bartender chooses that exact moment to come back with their drinks. He sets them down. A beer for Jake. An Old Fashioned for Nora.

"Tab?"

"Seresin."

Nora opens her mouth, and Jake pulls on her braid again. She smacks his hand away.

"Don't be so stubborn, Hollywood. Let me buy you a drink."

She eyes him. "And what's the catch?"

A dimple carves into his cheek. "Maybe I'm just a nice guy."

"You are not a nice guy," and Nora doesn't mean for it to come out like it does, like it's a good thing, like she likes that about him.

His gaze is burning, and Jake is closer than ever before – shoe nudging between her boots, knee brushing against the inside of her exposed thigh – and Nora feels like a struck match held over a puddle of gasoline, like one wrong move, one right one will set her ablaze.

"Oh yeah?" Jake murmurs. “What am I then?” 

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth, and Jake follows the movement, gaze darkening. His fingers spasm around the neck of the beer bottle, and Nora remembers another moment, a moment in this very bar when Jake's fingers brushed the side of her neck, warm and calloused and deliberate.

A call vibrates her phone in her back pocket.

Her caught breath escapes in a rush. She doesn't even look at the ID before Nora answers.

"This is Nora Rogers."

Jake eases back, lids low, and Nora swallows against her suddenly dry mouth. Plugs her ear to better hear the person on the other end.

It's so loud in here, but Nora manages to make out a few words.

"Nora, it's Jenna."

A breath punches from her chest, and Nora freezes.

In her peripheral, Jake frowns around his beer.

"I know, I know," Jenna is saying, oblivious, even as Nora feels like a hand has clawed between her ribs and slowly squeezed. "Who calls out of the blue anymore, right? But I saw your Instagram story, and I was like, I should give Nora a call while I have a minute... Are you there? It's kind of loud. Can you hear me? Nora?"

"Oh, um..."

Nora looks up at Jake, eyes wide. He doesn't hesitate, good in a crisis like any good Naval aviator would be. He sets his drink down and pulls the phone from her unresisting fingers.

"Nora's a little busy right now. She'll have to call you back later. You have a good Fourth, ma'am."

And Jake ends the call before Nora can even breathe.

She stares at him, unblinking.

"Nora?"

Not sweetheart, not Hollywood. Nora.

She snaps out of her daze and manages, "I need some air."

And Nora lets Jake pull her though the crowd and out of the side door, into the cooling summer air.

Evening sun cools on the blue horizon of the ocean as Nora is sitting in the bed of Jake's Chevy, legs dangling and swinging restlessly over the edge, hard metal pressing into her skin.

She doesn't mind. It's kind of grounding, actually.

She breathes in the salt air. Breathes deep and out.

"What's going on?"

Ah, damn.

"Ah..." Nora blinks her eyes open and discretely wipes at the moisture under her lids. "I'm fine. Just needed a minute."

She wonders if Jake can hear the strain in her voice, the strange reediness. She can hear it. Can see right through her own words. She wonders if Jake can do the same, can see right through her like Nora is made of the sea glass that dots the shore.

Metal creaks as Jake hoists himself up and squeezes in next to Nora. He is so damn broad, pressed against her entire side. His bare arm is warm against hers.

He gets comfortable, stretching out his legs.

Leans a hand behind her back.

His arm brushes against her side again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jake asks, voice a gentle rumble.

She blows out an uneven breath. "About what?"

"You looked a little upset inside, is all."

"I'm not upset," Nora says. A reflex. A lie.

"Come on..." Jake coaxes with a small smile. "You're a bad liar, sweetheart. What's going on? Tell Uncle Jake."

She's surprised enough to laugh, a choked and breathless sound. "Uncle Jake? What is that, like a sex thing?"

"You're so..." He chuckles, low and warm. "No, Nora. It's not a sex thing. Ma called me earlier. Apparently, my niece caught War of the Worlds on cable the other night, even though I know Sarah would never let her watch a PG-13 movie. She's seven."

"So now," Jake continues. "She's scared of fireworks. She's convinced some Independence Day aliens are gonna burst right out of ‘em.” 

Nora cracks a small smile. "And did Uncle Jake talk some sense into her?"

"Damn straight," Jake affirms with an oh-so-serious nod. "Told her I would've seen any aliens from my plane and shot ‘em right out of the sky.” 

He kind of rolls his eyes, like Can you believe what I put up with?, but Nora can hear the unbridled affection in his voice. He loves it. He loves being this person who can calm a scared little girl down and make it all better.

And Nora's delicate heart cracks wide open.

His shoulder bumps against hers, gentle. "Got any aliens I can shoot out of the sky for you, sweetheart?” 

She sighs. "I'm not upset, exactly. I'm... frustrated with myself."

His brows furrow in question, and rather than explain, Nora offers her phone and lets him read the incoming messages for himself. It’s easier. 

Jenna, 6:58 PM: Hi! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to catch you in the middle of something.

Jenna, 7:01 PM: Are you still considering that project I talked to you about in May? Take a beat, I don’t need an answer right this second, but I do need an answer kind of soon. 

Jenna, 7:01 PM: I’m resending the pitch now. Check your email!

Jenna, 7:02 PM: (And maybe write me back for once)

Another message comes in as Jake is reading.

Jenna, 7:05 PM: Also, WHO was that guy on the phone? He has a sexy voice.

Nora snatches her phone back and locks the screen, holding her arms close.

A smirk wavers on his face, flickering on and off like an old light bulb, but Jake doesn't make a comment. His mouth settles in a line as he studies Nora.

“What’s wrong with the project? Why don’t you want it?” 

She blinks at him, surprised, and Jake shrugs.

“You would’ve given her an answer before now otherwise, right?” 

And damn if Jake doesn’t hit the nail right on the head. 

“You’re right. I don't want it," Nora says. An admission. "But I know I should. So... I'm aggravated with myself."

"Why?"

She pulls her legs up and crosses them, fiddling with a loose thread in the denim. She explains in a hush, "Because now, I only have a month left here, and I'm in the same place I was before I came here. I don't have another project lined up at the end of this one, and I haven't even been looking, really."

He is looking at her with soft attention. A breath. 

Nora continues, "I really used to love what I do, but I don't know, I've been so drained and uninspired and god, just so fucking exhausted for the past year and a half." She smooths her hands over her cheeks, still flushed from the humid bar. "I thought if I had a change of pace, maybe I could recharge and feel creative again so..."

"You came here," Jake finishes, understanding.

"So I came here," Nora repeats in a soft voice.

She came here, and now, Nora is stuck. Again.

"Documentaries have been a part of my whole... identity for so long that I don't know if I could do something else. I feel like I'd lose a part of myself if I ever stopped. And I've been this person for so long that I don't know if I could do something else. I don't know if I'd even know how."

A car pulls into the beachside lot and parks a few rows over and idles there, and over the sound of the engine and the crash of the ocean waves, Nora can make out the chorus of ‘Fade Into You’ by Mazzy Star. Her mom’s favorite song. 

It feels like a sign. 

And Nora says, “I guess I don’t want to look back a decade from now and be in the same place I am right now.” 

“Which is?”

“Wondering if I’ve made the wrong choice.” Nora watches the horizon. A sigh escapes from her lips. “Wondering if I’m too late to make the right one.” 

“Look at me,” Jake says, soft and gentle but firm. "Hey."

Nora leans her chin on her shoulder and meets his gaze, and Jake is looking at her with such intense green, open-faced and sincere. 

"You could march into Cyclone's office on Monday morning and quit right then and there and – "

"Actually, Admiral Simpson's not my – ” 

"You could..." Jake raises his voice to drown out her interruption until Nora presses her lips together. "...quit and never make another documentary ever again and still be an incredible person. I mean, hell, Hollywood, you're beautiful and clever as hell and at times, kind of mean."

A smirk brims on her lips, and Jake grins, a flash of white. 

“You could be anything.” 

She stares at him. “How could you possibly know that? You’ve only known me for like a month.” 

“I know enough.” 

He sounds so sure, so certain.

And Nora likes him. She likes him so much her chest aches. She holds a hand over her collarbone, rubbing at the sore spot over her heart, pulse racing underneath her palm.

"Thank you, Jake," Nora says softly.

His eyes are soft. "Of course, anytime."

A beat passes, and Nora could so easily let the moment fade.

She could go back inside and spend the rest of the weekend pushing him from her mind and wanting him.

Jake is so handsome in the golden glow. He's looking at her like...

No one's ever looked at her like Jake is looking at her right now.

She swallows hard and says, "You were right before."

His mouth quirks. "I usually am, but about what?"

A few strands of short hair come loose from her braid and fall in her face as Nora shakes her head.

“I do kind of like you,” Nora admits. “I kind of like you a lot.” 

His lips part in a smile. “You like me.” 

She bites down on the inside of her cheek. Hard. “Go ahead. Get it over with."

“And what exactly am I getting over with?"

“You really aren't going to be smug about this? You were right. Get it over with."

Nora waits. Drums her fingers on the surface of her thigh while Jake is quiet, suspiciously so. 

“What? Nothing?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find a way to be smug later," Jake promises with a slow smirk. Later oozes with suggestion. Sparks dance across her skin where Jake's arm is pressed against hers.

“You like me,” Jake repeats again, voice soft. 

Her chin dips in a nod.

“And what are we gonna do about that, sweetheart?” 

It’s all Nora can do not to squirm under his gaze. 

She replies, “Nothing. Just wanted you to know,” in a voice so paper thin, so breathless that even Nora doesn’t believe herself. 

You’re a bad liar, sweetheart, echoes in her head. 

And like he knows, a smirk kicks up the edge of Jake's mouth. 

In a movie, this would be a moment, the moment. 

A director would ask the camera to get in close and closer still, documenting every microcosm of their expressions, every glimpse of emotion in their eyes, and in the background, a delicate instrumental would build and build, a gradual swell, like an ocean wave. 

Grow louder and stronger until in a dark theater, surrounded by strangers and popcorn grease, or at home on the couch, whoever is watching catches themselves holding their breath, until the world drops out from under them, until…

He leans in close, locked and loaded with a clever countermove.

“Bull…” 

And unable to let him have the last word, even in this, especially in this, Nora closes the distance between them and kisses him.

And kisses him and kisses him, hand dipping in the open space where his linen shirt gapes from his collarbone and running her fingers over the golden skin, warm from the sun, over that damn chain. 

Hooking it around her index finger, Nora gives it an experimental pull, the smallest and slightest of tugs, and Jake reacts like Nora has reached inside his chest and pressed an on switch. 

A warm palm slides up the slender length of her neck, settling on her nape, and anchors her against him. He breathes her name against her mouth, like a prayer, like a confession.

Nora Nora Nora. 

Pulls her in and in and in until Nora is all but on top of him, impossibly close.

She wants nothing more than to crawl over him and – 

A car alarm wails from behind them.

She pulls back, breathing hard, and like a magnet, Jake follows.

He rests his forehead against her bare shoulder, catching his breath, pressing a kiss to the new freckles from the afternoon and another.

“Um…” Nora starts.

He kisses the side of her neck once, and Nora cuts herself off with a rush of breath, gripping his biceps for balance. 

“We’re…” Nora tries again. “We should…” 

He pauses. Pulls back so Nora can see his face.

His pupils are blown wide.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Nora asks, both a question and a plea. Please want to get out of here.

“Yes,” Jake breathes and kisses her again, his answer a groan against her mouth. "God, yes, Nora."

He doesn't even get his credit card from the bartender.

Less than a minute later, Jake is cutting across Coronado in his Chevy like an F-18, cutting across cooling blue skies.

Between stop signs, Jake reaches across the bench seat and laces their fingers together, pressing a firm kiss to her knuckles.

Her other hand drifts out of the open window, and for a brief moment, as the wind catches her fingers just right, Nora closes her eyes and feels like she's flying.

end note: likes are appreciated, but comments and reblogs are amazing. i'd love to hear from you! and all my love to @sometimesanalice for letting me ramble to you for months about this fic and @roosterbruiser for beta reading!

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