Note:- Another set of Javery hc's because I miss them, this list got longer than I expected yet I have more soo... Part 2 will be coming
Warnings⚠️:- Some of these hc's have sexual innuendos
At first they were planning to live together at a midpoint from both of there college's but ultimatiely decided not to
Jameson once surprised her by sitting behind her in one of her classes and asking her the triangle riddle at the very end of the class
They send eachother the most random pictures from campus with no context and the other just goes "cool"
Sometimes their nightly calls last for hours and by the time they hang up the sun is already rising
Every once in a while they meet up at some cafe or library for a study date... It is in public so that they actually study
Jameson got her a yale teddy bear and Avery keeps it on her nightstand
Since it is hard for Avery to makes friends and so when she made her first friend, she was all excited and told Jameson all about it - he was looking at her like a lovesick puppy
Exam week is ROUGH, I am talking they go no contact and just lock in because they have a bet to see who can score better... They end up with the same exact grades... #soulmates
They sometimes roleplay as two strangers college parties and 'hook up' (the whole my boyfriend/girlfriend can't find out) for fun
Avery stole some of his yale hoodies and wears them all the time because it smells like him
If you see Jameson on campus and he is quite and is brooding... He is missing Avery...
Jameson once opened his appartment door to Oren pushing Avery towards him and saying "she has been saying 'I am bored' for ages now go do something fun"
Oren regretted doing that because his chaotic kids almost got arrested
They have a music playlist together and listen to it all the time
A very heavy makeout session happens every time they see eachother after a while
Jameson is dramatic so he texts her stuff like 'I am dying heiress, I haven't seen you in so long" - they had met like two days ago
Jameson loves when she calls him while being drunk (she is all giggly and adorable)... He records them and listens to it whenever he misses her
They leave eachother random riddles and puzzles all around the appartment whenever they visit the other
They bitch about their professors all the time
Secret disguises are a must when they are out and about (I sometimes forget they are celebrities)
Freaky texts.
Avery loves to tease him about the damn secret society he is in by saying "So you basically are a frat bro, ew"
Jameson constantly asks Oren whether or not Avery is overworking herself because he knows she won't tell him if she is
Oren and Alisa are their mediators whenever they get into a fight
When Avery first met Jameson's friend group she was treated as if she were the queen of England because of the way Jameson gushes over her to them... Avery was embarrassed... Jameson made it up to her in a very creative way
They have done eachothers assignments for fun and because they were bored
Avery got him a Uconn plushie that he pretends to hate... He does not hate it one bit
The best way they study together is asking study related questions in form of riddles
They both hangout at the park Avery used to play chess with Toby all the time and play chess... Spoiler alert - Avery beats his ass almost all the time
She has even taken him to her old house and told him childhood stories good and bad... Jameson Hawthorne was crying for what the love of his life had gone through
Avery visits Hannah's grave every sunday just to tell Hannah about her week and sometimes Jameson joins her (not everytime because Avery usually likes to be alone)
words: 1.6k
warnings: kissing?
pairings: jameson hawthorne x avery grambs
summary: averyjameson wedding as god intended
note: the whole set-up and scenario thing is @averygrambsswife's idea #ourjavery but its lowk kinda buns sori
It filtered through the church's stained glass windows, scattering amber, crimson, emerald and gold across the worn stone floor. Light bled over ancient pews and climbed weathered walls, turning the little chapel into something almost unreal.
A fitting stage.
Jameson Hawthorne stood beneath the wide archway, Avery's hand laced with his. Electricity hummed where their fingers met. Not nerves exactly. Rather…anticipation. The delicious kind that came just before everything changed.
He curled his fingers around hers, earning the smallest shift in her expression. Most people would've missed it. Jameson didn't miss her tells. Her pulse fluttered once beneath his thumb.
She was nervous.
The realisation tugged the corner of his mouth into something dangerously close to a smile. Avery Kylie Grambs had outplayed billionaires, murderers and Hawthornes. She'd survived riddles designed to break people. Yet somehow, standing in a tiny church with him was what made her heartbeat stumble.
His Avery had an infuriating habit of being adorable without the faintest idea she was doing it.
She looked up at the altar, then back at him and corner of his mouth lifted. Without a word, they stepped forward together.
One step.
Then another.
Then Avery laughed. And, naturally, that was all it took.
Dignity became collateral damage as they broke into a run, hand in hand, racing down the aisle of the tiny church with the reckless joy of two people who'd spent far too long cheating death to bother bleakly walking toward forever. Their laughter echoed off the ancient stone, bright enough to rival the stained glass overhead.
Jameson would've bet every last penny of the Hawthorne fortune on that sound.
They reached the altar far sooner than either of them seemed prepared for. Two shallow stone steps lifted them onto the platform, and then there was nowhere left to run. Jameson turned to face Avery, their hands still linked between them, and for a long moment, all he did was look.
He'd looked at her a thousand times before. Across crowded rooms and deserted rooftops. Covered in dust, soaked through with rain, grinning because she'd beaten him at one of his own games. Yet, none of it compared to this.
The breeze slipping through the open chapel doors caught in her ash brown hair, lifting the loose waves so they framed her face in effortless disarray. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, spilling over her jade green dress in fractured colours that shifted every time she breathed. Green suited her. Always had. It brought out the gold hidden amongst the hazel of her eyes. Eyes fixed on him with a softness that still had the power to knock the air from his lungs.
Jameson had never put much faith in angels. They sounded far too well behaved.
But if heaven had ever decided to make an exception, he imagined it might've looked something like the deity standing before him.
And somehow, against impossible odds, against fate, against every version of his life that should have ended differently, she was here.
With him.
"You know," his heiress said, her voice pulling Jameson from the dangerous territory of staring a little too long, "I'm starting to get a bit pissed off that I can't kiss you yet."
A cheshire cat smile snaked its way across his face.
"Patience, Saint Avery." He lingered on the title with all the sincerity of a sinner.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Oh, shut it, you-"
"Ahem!" The pointed interruption echoed through the little chapel. Both Jameson and Avery turned towards the open doorway in perfect unison.
An elderly woman stood framed beneath the arch, scarcely taller than five feet. Deep lines softened her face, and a simple cream coloured robe hung loosely from her slight frame.
"Siete voi due i ragazzi che hanno chiesto un celebrante per il matrimonio?" She spoke, and Avery looked at Jameson with silent confusion scattered across her face as his brain quicky went into translate mode.
"Sì, grazie per aver dedicato del tempo a celebrare il nostro matrimonio, signora," he replied politely.
The woman smiled, though there was the faintest flicker in her expression that made Jameson wonder if his pronunciation had wandered somewhere it shouldn't have.
He chose not to dwell on it. Italian had never been his strongest language, anyway. German, on the other hand...
The woman made her way towards them at an unhurried pace. Before she reached the steps, Avery was already moving. Of course she was.
She released one of Jameson's hands and offered the woman her own, steadying her as she climbed the steps. Avery did it so naturally she probably didn't even realise she'd moved. The woman thanked her with a warm smile before taking her place behind them, positioning herself between their shoulders, ready to begin.
Alright, Jamie, his own voice spoke in his head. This is it.
He remembered the rush of adrenaline that had flooded his veins the night he'd dropped to one knee on Avery's 25th birthday. At the time, he'd thought there was no greater high, no greater risk.
He'd been wrong.
This eclipsed it.
As he joined his hands with Avery once more, their officiant began to speak.
"I vostri nomi sono... Avery e Jameson, giusto?"
"Sì," the word left his mouth automatically.
Jameson glanced at Avery, his fingers tightening around hers before he realised how hard he was holding on. His pulse battered against his ribs with reckless insistence, each heartbeat louder than the last. Heat prickled behind his eyes, his vision threatening to blur.
He was getting married.
HE WAS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!!
To Avery. His Avery.
The absurdity of it, the sheer impossibility, hit him square in the chest.
This was real.
He caught the unmistakable shimmer of tears gathering in Avery's eyes, and something inside him gave way.
The signora's English was a bit choppy, every sentence shaped by a thick Italian accent. Jameson barely registered the words. He knew them already. They'd been spoken in a thousand churches, on a thousand beaches, beneath a thousand skies.
None of those vows had ever belonged to him.
Until now.
"Jameson," the woman said warmly, "do you take this lovely lady standing before you to be your best friend, your lover, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"
His throat tightened. It was only two words. Two impossibly simple words. Two words that cost him nothing but meant everything.
A couple of tears escaped despite his best efforts. He didn't bother wiping them away.
"I do." The words sounded like a prayer falling from his lips.
"And Avery," the woman continued, "do you take this gentleman standing before you to be your best friend, your lover, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"
Avery let out a watery laugh that dissolved into a sob.
"I do."
Jameson smiled so hard it hurt.
"It is my great honour to pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss-"
He didn't hear the rest.
His hands reached out and cradled her face as he closed the distance between them, crashing his lips against hers with every ounce of love he'd spent years fostering.
She kissed him back just as fiercely.
His wife.
It didn't even sound real.
She was his wife.
His best friend. His favourite person. The love of his life. The woman he got to have and to hold, for better or for worse, and whatever else the signora had said.
As they breathlessly thanked her before dashing out of the chapel, they burst onto the sunlit grass hand in hand, shouting things like, "WE JUST GOT FUCKING MARRIED!" at absolutely no one before crashing into another kiss, and then another, laughing so hard neither of them could breathe.
Jameson found himself absurdly, overwhelmingly grateful that it had been just him and Ave - his wife - in that tiny chapel, tucked away from the rest of the world.
Of course, they'd have an official wedding. There'd be enough champagne to bankrupt a small country, enough guests to make any socially awkward person physically recoil (cough, cough, Grayson) and somewhere amongst all of that, they'd deal with the legal paperwork once they got back to the States.
But this?
This had been theirs.
No cameras. No photographers. No paparazzi. No headlines. No carefully curated images of the heiress and the Hawthorne.
Just them.
Just the memory of her hands clasped tightly in his, of sunlight bleeding through stained glass and painting impossible colours across their faces as they chose each other. As they tied themselves together for life.
He already knew Nash would give him the lecture of a lifetime. Libby would probably do the same through a flood of happy tears. Alisa would have around seventeen opinions.
And every single one of them would cry.
Yes, they'd done it behind everyone's backs.
Yes, they'd slipped away from the paparazzi, denying the world the spectacle it would've expected.
Yes, it had been impulsive.
Reckless.
But he couldn't bring himself to regret a single second of it.
All that mattered was the girl running beside him, smiling so hard her cheeks had to ache, tears spilling freely down her face as his own laughter mingled with hers beneath the Italian sun.
And as they disappeared into the evening, hand in hand, the words she'd spoken so long ago found their way back to him.
he literally always calls her ma’am and it has taken her a gazillion years to get him to call her josephine
she’s like 70 btw
“how are you feeling today?” “functional.”
josie lets him finish overexplaining, then says, “that wasn’t the question.” silence.
grayson once tried to “win” therapy by preparing bullet points. she listened nodded and replied “you’ve described events. not feelings.”
they have a shared understanding that sarcasm is ‘inefficient but occasionally necessary’
the most amount of praise she’s given him is “that’s… progress.” grayson takes it like a medal.
my girl is literally on the verge of tears every time grayson describes his feelings or tobias and she just goes “and how long has that been normal for you?”
she literally wants to throw hands at everyone who’s hurt him, because she’s 70, she’s lived a good life, sure she’s lost her husband and her kids are far away from home, but she was happy, and here sits a 21 year old, a mere boy, who has gone through more in 18 years than she had in her whole life
at one point gray said “I don’t see how that’s relevant.” and she replied, “that’s also interesting.” *sigh*
grayson finally speaks. josephine makes a checkmark.
grayson once asked “am I doing this correctly?” “there is no correct way.” beat. “you are, however, avoiding it.”
she doesn’t force him to talk. that usually makes him talk
she persuaded him to get a cat (it actually helped a lot)
she’s one of the first people to encourage grayson to explore his more artsy side
once she found out about his artsy side, their next session was at one of those cafes where u paint plates and mugs and stuff
she noticed he seemed a lot calmer
she literally did like the fists in the air “YES!” thing when gray told her about lyra
Josephine also became very interested when she found out grayson was a fashion geek (THIS IS CANON I SWEAR)
Why were the men in tgb so aggressive? The only one that did not get on his aggresive side was Xander, all the others were following their most killer instinct. Rohan hit grayson and wanted to fight nora, jameson wanted to kill almost everyone and grabbed savannah, grayson wanted to choke nora, knox fought brady, brady was looking for a fight too, toby thought about fighting katalin, and I am so sure I am forgetting other important moments.
I honestly hated those parts, it reminded me that they are just men after all.
I would have rather if the girls had gotten aggressive, avery should have had a gun, and lyra a bat.
When he fucks up (very rare fr) he continues apologizing forever even when Max accepts his apology
Ties her shoelaces for her if she doesn’t notice they’re not done
He read all her favorite books
Xander dared Max to do that trend (where yk she randomly goes up to a cashier and then says the most unfunny joke and starts hysterically laughing) and Xander was in the background filming and laughing his ass off
They can match each others freak (NOT in a freaky way like they have the same interest or same fascination with things)
He lets her test out skincare products she doesn’t trust on him
Also if she’s really bored he lets her try make up looks on him
She steals his hoodies constantly but he never asks for them back 😭
when she goes shopping he insists that she gives him a fashion hall (he loves seeing her get excited about stuff she bought)
buy eachother stuff CONSTANTLY like if xander is out and he sees something that reminds him of her he buys it and vice versa
<- when they meet during her vacation they give the stuff to eachother
When he first visited her parents he got her mother flowers and since then he always buys her flowers when they meet (also buys max but that happens very often so 😼)
When they go to a bookstore, Xander tells her to look around in 2 mins and then he’ll give her like 1 min to get what she can (she ends up needing more time and he keeps adding time until she’s done 🥹)
They complete these long ass puzzles together (like 1000+ pieces). Also time each other while solving sudoku and build legos together
<-if she doesn’t want to build legos she reads while he builds them
Oki yes hope you liked 🥹🥹
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nash hawthorne will never fail to astonish me. wdym this unemployed manchild cowboy managed to fumble a baddie like Alisa, yet continue to act like SHE is the one who is too married to her job and a workaholic, and THEN have the audacity to tell her that she'd “never step foot near the kid [avery] again” if it were up to him. (like who asked you for your opinion about a 17 year old girl that has no relation to you??) because she was protecting avery's inheritance. (ily, but genuinely only Alisa had the foresight to do the smartest thing.)
