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azsazz · 8 days

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Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

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“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

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Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #hockey!bat boys #hockey!azriel #acotar hockey au #acotar au #azriel au

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loversofthegrave · 7 months

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What are some of your fave wincest fics?

Oh I'm so glad you asked anon! I am always looking for fic recs so I'm sure some followers will appreciate this little one here;

(in no particular order)

try asking by applecrumbledore

“Jerry says he saw them going at it in the back of that car of theirs outside Atlanta last year, I swear to God.”

“Listen, man, I don’t like them either, but that’s a low blow. Jerry’s a fucking pervert.”

outside POV ftw

other brothers by homo_pink

A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

Another outside POV but this writer I kneel at the altar for, absolute perfection. Read all their work, you're in for a treat

Howls in my bones by weefaol

When John gets a call to investigate a series of grisly animal killings, he drops Sam and Dean at an abandoned cabin two towns over. The boys find ways to keep busy — playing cards, watching movies, chopping wood — but with a howling winter storm on the way, there’s nowhere for Sam to hide his illicit feelings for his older brother.

As the lure of desire threatens to devour him, Sam must learn to face the wolves that lurk outside and the monsters within.

weecest

In the garden where sin began by nyoka

Some places, they grow for you.

weecest, beautifully written, so tender

one on, two out by deadlybride

In the fall of 2001, Deacon gets a letter from his old friend John Winchester, asking if John's son can stay at his house for a while.

not exactly wincest but I want to recommend this because it's just a great insight into a young dean and his vulnerability and there's a sequel involving wincest elements. Really really loved this

it started out with a kiss by intrepidheart

Sam has a date. That's not the problem. The problem is that Sam's asking Dean to teach him how to kiss. The problem is that this kiss changes everything.

rightly obsessed with jealous dean

the repeated image of the lover destroyed by hathfrozen

"Do you really love me that much?" Sam asks.

Dean laughs, a harsh sound, his body shaking underneath Sam.

"Look at me," Dean hisses, eyes still shut. "What the fuck do you think?"

see things so much clearer by deadlybride

Sam's been acting oddly. Dean learns how to use the history on an internet browser and finds out why.

somewhere there's blue by linden

Dean was just gonna go ahead and call this one: evenings which ended with Sam in a river were not evenings which had gone too well.

nickle and dime by linden

It was unlikely, Dean felt, that they'd be coming back to Montana: Child Protection Services had a real nasty habit of not forgetting people's names.

here's a few for now, I have more but I need to remember the names! I will probably reblog this with them but I hope you enjoy! Also if anyone has any recs please point me in that direction

much love

#fic rec #wincest #wincest fic rec

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silamander · 4 months

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do you have any hatchetfield headcanons you’d like to share???

HOHOHOHO I COULD KISS YOU (/p)

- Peter gave Ted an “I ❤️ hot moms” shirt for Christmas one year.

- Boy Jerry applied for the Hatchetfield Gazette to help support Girl Jeri during her pregnancy.

- Paul has the gift and it’s predicting the future (kind of a sixth sense/precognition), hints on why he always knows/feels like something bad will happen. But that power is so small and weak because he never unlocked it or used it as a kid.

- Ted and Dan Reynolds were best friends in high school, everyone either had trouble telling them apart or thought they were twins.

- Duke has a cat named Holly. He can't exactly explain why he chose that name. Maybe it reminded him of something…

- Becky Barnes has freckles (cause I think it fits her)

- Barry Swift sleep-walks.

- Paul can't drive. He either calls a taxi or just walks around Hatchetfield like an NPC, head empty.

- Professor Hidgens is a former member of PEIP. Also he and General McNamara used to date, no I will not elaborate.

- People think that Becky “isn't as hot as she used to be” because back in high school she was always dressed up and would wear makeup almost everyday since she was cheer captain. She’s gotten rid of that habit after graduating but now people perceive her as “less hot” because god forbid a woman age and stop doing shit for the sake of being performative anymore.

- Nibbly's tongue flicks out of his mouth to taste the air like a snake when in his true form.

- Peter was a Greek mythology kid. Something about him screams "I read percy jackson way too much as a kid”

- Richie had a glee phase (no I will not elaborate, and neither will he if you ask him about it).

- Steph’s ripped jeans had small holes in them when she bought them and her dad made fun of her for buying something already broken so she made the holes bigger out of spite.

- Wiggly sleeps in sand like a squid. Like literally just buries himself in there, completely submerged.

- Pokey is trying to prove himself to his older siblings, and has a minor inferiority complex. So that’s why he needs to take over every timeline, to show he’s worthy.

- Hailey hates confrontation. That's the reason she's still "friends" and roommates with Zoey. It's not worth the effort or the fight.

- Gary Goldstein is the biggest Reality TV fan in Hatchetfield (except Zoey, she's a close second).

- Grace is the type of girl who says she hates drama and gossip but she knows all the drama at Hatchetfield High.

- Tom and Becky would often stargaze on the football field back in their high school days, especially after the big games. Stargazing together became their way to unwind and talk, without people listening in on every little thing being said and spreading rumors. Not like they would dare do that to two of the most popular people in school.

- Officer Bailey and Miss Mulberry are engaged (which is why they went to see Workin' Girls together).

- PEIP gives its agents training on how to do dramatic speeches and cryptic advice.

- Wiggly manifested an entire castle in the black and white for him and his siblings to live in.

- Karen and Mark Chasity sleep in separate beds like some sitcom couple from the 60’s. Grace thinks this is totally normal and is shocked and appalled to learn that it is not.

- Max's mom disappeared after being crowned Honey Queen when Max was around 5-6. She wanted the prize money to support her family because Max's father was laid off from his job.

- Ethan taps his fingers on literally every surface ever to whatever song is in his head. He has 100% rick rolled people this way.

- Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.

- Paul uses his phone like a grandma, he puts on the glasses to read and everything.

- Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about.

- Back in college, Ted was a lot like AC!Pete. He was nerdy, sweet, and a little awkward but he still had some confidence and smugness. Basically him and Jenny were a lot like Steph and Pete in Abstinence Camp.

#starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #thanks for the ask!

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alluringnectar · 4 months

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Timeless

abby anderson x fem!reader

a/n: srry ts might b a lil short lol, kinda rushed

summary: you go on a patrol with abby

warnings: sfw, slow burn, js kinda angst, not rlly tho

pt. 1 , pt. 2, pt. 3

it’s 5:45 in the morning.

the sky is still dark, you can hear the hums of cicadas and the hoots of owls.

you’re in the back of a W.L.F. truck, holding double barreled shot gun. infront of your view is alice and abby. even though its pitch black out, her features illuminate like the moon; at that point moths would even be attracted.

you didn’t realize you were even bouncing your leg until abby held your leg.

“nervous?” she asked, chuckling. “yeah, it’s my first patrol since i ever got promoted” you shyly admitted, “i’m scared im gonna fuck things up.” abby listened to you intently, finding comfort in your pure honesty. “everyone fucks up once in every while, it doesn’t get easier, just easier to handle.” you smiled, full of teeth, thanking her.

how could this even be the same girl Mel was talking about?

the truck comes to an abrupt halt, signaling it’s time to hop off. Abby, Alice, & you jump off, thanking the W.L.F. driver. “good luck girls!”

as you walk into the abandoned ruins of what was once a beauty thriving city, abby pulls out a map. “there should be a hospital around here somewhere. orders are to clear it and get all supplies.” you nod, following her as she walks to the abandoned hospital.

as you walk in, you feel shivers. you turn to look at abby, but she has a sad look on her eyes, like a sad puppy dog.

you hear barks, that takes you out of your thoughts. both abby and you flinched.

alice is barking at this door, abby and you budge it open.

then out of no where, a stalker jumps you. before you can take out your pistol, abby grabs a shiv and stabs it in the throat.

it lays there, blood seeping out.

“are you okay?” abby asks you, “yes, im fine thank you.” abby offers her hand and you take her in.

both you and abby look around the room.

its a chapel.

“ it’s pretty, isn’t it?” you say to abby as you admire the alter, the benches that once had many families praying for patients to get better. abby hums, and she asks, “do you believe in God?” you tell her, “I believe in God, i just dont know if he believes in me.” abby looks at you, “what do you mean?” “i believe he is real when i see fawns and their mothers taking care of eachother. i believe he is real when i see the sun taking care of the plants as the sunrays reach them. i feel like God doesn’t believe me when i see the sufferings of this world, when i lose the people i love, or i see the once humans so alive, laughing, crying, and other emotions trapped in all the fungus.” abby looks at you, intently staring and picking up at every feature.

“do you?” you ask, snapping abby out of her trance. “do i what?” abby asks. “believe in God?” abby sighs , “if God was real, maybe he wouldn’t have taken away my farther.” your heart hurts for her, and you embrace her, letting her know shes not alone. she returns it, holding you tight

you feel a sharp pain the back of your shin, causing you to hiss. “whats wrong?” abby asks you worryingly. you pull up your pants and replied “glass must’ve cut me with that stalker was on me.” “i don’t know how i didn’t feel it, must’ve been the adrenaline” you joke, causing abby to laugh.

“sit down, ill get you treated” abby says.

she wraps your leg and puts anti infection cream all over as she cleaned the wound.

“how do you know how to do all this?”

“my dad was a doctor, i only learned from the best.”

“your father was blessed to have you.”

“he would’ve liked you.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“let’s report back to base, we have supplies now anyways.”

you learned her farther name was Jerry.

as abby, alice, and you go back to base, alice is put into her kennel.

“see you soon alice!!” you both yell.

abby and you report your findings to other W.L.F. members then abby takes you to the infirmary because she swears it’s necessary.

and she isn’t wrong because Nora is telling you with an injury that severe you need to stay home and supervised.

abby volunteers, and now she’s next to you on the couch, with you falling asleep on her shoulder.

she could get used to this view.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #tlou #the last of us #abby fluff #abby x y/n #abby anderson fluff #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson #abby x reader #abby x you #fluff #agnst #slow burn

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that-birdy-chick · 11 days

Text

Part 2 of me rambling about s8 of hawaii five 0

Live commentary

ep 6

- did-did Danny really just organize an intervention for Steve? To make him take better care of himself?? I don't know how to feel about this

- Lou really just said "Steve listen to your husband, he loves you" spoken like a true married man

- kinda gotta agree with Dog, not your finest move Danny

- so can we all agree that Danny losing his mind a little over Steve's radiation poisoning is kinda like the whole Steve losing his mind over Danny retiring thing but in reverse?

- I think Steve has never looked more stressed than with this stress counseler person asking him about his sexlife right in front of danny

- awwww now the end of this episode is in my top 3 favorite heart to hearts these two dorks have ever had

- Danny being honest about being scared that Steve isn't taking his radiation poisoning seriously to the point it keeps him awake at night and steve replying that he's scared too but that he doesn't want Danny to change because he loves him the way he is and that he does take things seriously URHGH

THE GROWTH! The genuinely healthy communication! I'm so proud of them 🥹

ep 7

- no no no what is going on between adam and kono? My breakup senses are tingling and I don't like it

- I swear the way Adam and Steve's conversation in the car went is so "let's talk about our respective marriages" coded

Like honestly it's so blatantly obvious - they are literally paralleling mcdanno to kono and adam ffs

- hey and come on adam you too? Why does everyone need to shit on the restaurant thing

- haha Steve is mad people he cares about just walk into a dangerous situation without backup - I love how this season confronts Steve with his own behavior

-hmm l don't know how to feel about Lou literally deleting evidence to protect tani, really most of their shady "police work" really didn't age well

- damn Steve killed a cop, that's definitely gonna fuck with him

- love how Lou is looking out for everyone, he just is the team grandpa

- sooo adam is gonna join five 0 right? This is what all this is about isn't it?

- I swear I am trying to care about junior and tani and what's going on with them but Idk so far I haven't really warmed up to them

ep 8

- eyyy Danny is back and calls Steve babe within 1 min into the episode? This can only be a good one

- nvm I swear to God Steve if you crash land yet another plane-

Seriously dude? Haven't you learned your lesson from the last time?

- naww Danny is so proud of Steves character development, sure hope he isn't gonna do something dumb and risky and ruin it again

- okay so tani and junior huh? They're definitely gonna be a thing soon aren't they

- the dude was killed because he was hiding from a drug cartel that he snitched on and fled with the drug lords daughter, I swear all these people always have the most dramatic backstories

- aaaand steve is doing the dumb reckless thing, Danny my guy I feel you're pain, he is so done with his shit he doesn't even yell at him anymore

- Danny is such a fucking saint, Steve almost went and got himself killed AGAIN and all he cares about is being last and danny husband of the fucking year just goes "yeah yeah you did well let's get a beer maverick"

- okay tani and her brother are kinda cute in their peek sibling behavior, I feel bad now for calling her a kono replacement, girl is much more than that

ep 9

- damn love Jerry's new haircut

- I will never get tiered of Danny and steve bickering about the restaurant, I know they are setting it up to fail but I genuinely think this could have been a good thing to eventually end the show on, like a retirement thing, but oh well

- aww I love Danny trying to comfort neolani with something Steve told him, only to have it backfire and make him anxious again

- pfffff and tani and junior sit in the far back like literal children

- oh great we're doing the biological warfare stuff again, this should be fun

- so they only have 8 hours to live? sounds like a prime love confession set up to me

- love our respective couples comforting each other, have to say tani and junior are doing a way better job tho like seriously Steve "try not to die while I take this call okay?" that's the best you can do, seriously?

- and of course Danny's all time stress response is to bitch about or at Steve, stellar coping skills all around

- omg danny did not just say-and steve didn't - OMG is it actually-

-nvm of course it's a fake out, damn it after 7 season why do I still keep falling for this shit

-the little restaurant talk Danny started to distract Steve and himself with was pretty sweet tho

- hey, wait why is Danny the only one definitely close to death? The others all seem relatively fine

- and of course Steve has to go and needlessly risk himself, so junior has to safe both their ass's instead of him just doing it on his own in the first place

- excuse me people why are there not more fanfics about the crew stuck in quarantine together?? this shit is hilarious and has so much potential for angst!

Please if anyone has some great fic recommendations send them my way please!

-no come on Danny, Steve didn't wanna upset you! That's honestly a pretty mature thing given the situation you were in, and now their arguing

- poor tani and junior they be stuck with these two idiots for a long time

- I could really see tani, just snapping at them after two days to either kill each other or fuck it out already, because their whole shebang is just exhausting for everyone

ep 10

-AHHHHH they finally opened the restaurant!? Progress!

- why does the screen look weird? Please don't let this be a dream type thing

- "Right now grandma Williams is smiling down at you" awww Steve, that is so sweet🥹

- nooo it's a dream thing 😭

- love how everyone makes fun of Steves near mental breakdown haircut, really dude it looks terrible, why does no one stop him?

- wow you really gonna give em kids the judgemental stares for flirting? Steve Danny as if you're any better

- and of course they're getting jumped in freaking quarantine

- really the dude went through all that trouble, just to kill Danny? And didn't even try aiming for the head? amateur

- aww Danny imagining grace wedding, my heart <3

- Danny is hurt, Steve is freaking loosing it, I'm so here for this

- Lou really said "sir, you better have a plan soon because if you don't Steve will come up with one, and only God can help us if that happens" I love you so much Lou

- huh so Danny thinks Charlie will be a cop? That's interesting

- awww and of course Steve is there, sitting next to him like a good husband, and the rest of the ohana

- nooo Danny being there for kono and adams first kid, that is so wholesome 😭

- Steve is straight up having a terrible time, while Danny has some idealistic feverdream about the future, this is so fun

- excuse me Steve you fingering your husband does absolutely not make you even for the liver thing, you nut

- so there gonna blow up a bomb right next to another bomb? Sure that seems reasonable

- yes Lou! Get the sledge hammer!

- poor Eric, don't worry hun we still have 2 seasons left to go Danny will be fine

- no NO you cannot- you did not just show me that while Danny's dying the last thing he hallucinates about is having grown old with Steve 🥺

- "and if I could do it all over again I wouldn't change a thing" I'm done, this is it, that line just killed me 😭❤️

- excuse me, Danny is dying and you people are choosing NOW to tease Steve about his stupid haircut? Seriously??!

- yes everyone copes differently I guess, but when Steve's life was on the line no one was joking around is all I'm saying

- yes Danny Steve saved your life by fingering you, deal with it XD poor Eric is scarred for life

- love Danny genuinely getting some love for once, this was a good episode

#h50 #h50 s8 #live commentary #danny williams #tani rey #steve mcgarrett #junior reigns #lou grover #adam noshimuri #Jerry h50 #8x06 #8x07 #8x09 #8x10 #Had to take a longer break while watching this show but now I'm back baby #Time to see this shit show through till the end #mcdanno #season 8 #s8 ep 6 - 10

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 5 months

Text

🔱 On the Beach Chapter Two

On The Beach: Orm has spent the last year staying with you, Arthur’s best friend. Part of his sentence is to learn about surface dweller culture from a surface dweller, and try to understand that not everyone above the waves is bad. With the year up, and Orm comfortable with a lifestyle that consisted of just you and him, how will he feel when his half brother shows up, and jealousy rears its ugly head? To put it simply, not very well..

Warnings: Language.

To Note: Orm Marius x NAMED!FEMReader, dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Word Count: ~4.7k

Previous | Masterlist

A hand was lightly running up and down your back, stroking your skin and tracing the ridges of your spine as you snoozed. It totally felt like yet another lazy day of sleeping in, soft sheets beneath your body and a warm body wrapped around your side, keeping you at the perfect temperature. You were still locked in a dream that involved a talking cat and some quest to fulfill before ice cream mountain melted.

You guess you had been craving a lot of ice cream lately because all you could think about was Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food. That and the Bay Shack fried clams, something about fish and shellfish just sounded really good lately which was odd because you were never a huge seafood fan. Practically a sacrilege in a fishing village but that was just how you felt.

Maybe it was a side effect of spending so much time near Orm, he had finally rubbed off on you.

“Beloved, you need to get up,” Orm’s masculine yet dulcet voice reached your ears shortly before he was pressing his sinful lips against your bare shoulder, his hand slipping from underneath your tank top to brush your hair clear from his path. Groaning out softly as he pressed a trail of kisses across your shoulder and then up your neck, his lips made your skin prickle.

“Don’t wanna,” you moaned out, trying to edge away from his teasing and tickles while burying your face further into your pillow. “I’m too comfortable.”

“You promised you would meet Mrs. Johnston at nine to discuss the tagging station.” Orm reminded you, nuzzling his face further into your neck as his hand carved a path over your side and slipped to where your tank top was bunched up. His fingers caressed your stomach and became very distracting, practically making it nearly impossible to try to fall back asleep.

Groaning in exaggerated misery, you swatted at the teasing hand on your stomach before reaching over and throwing the covers off your legs. Pulling yourself free from Orm’s arms, you sat on the edge of the edge of the bed and ran your fingers through your hair, getting out the knots and snares.

Now slightly more awake, your stomach rolled and twisted just like it did every other day. Wonderful, you would have thought you’d be over this annoying stomach bug by now, it was hard enough to keep it from Orm. You loved him, but you swear he takes overprotective to the next level.

Dropping your hand from your hair, you leaned back to look at Orm who was still lounging on his side, although he now had his head propped up as he gazed at you. How could one person look so hot just lying there?

“What is it?” Orm asked, his eyebrow rising elegantly with his question. Letting out a small huff, you leaned back and ran your fingers down the side of his face.

“It’s unfair at how handsome you are,” you told him with a smile. “And I constantly wonder how I ended up yours.”

“Do I need to remind you?” Orm countered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he turned his head and pressed his lips against your fingers. Your face heated up at the memory two months ago. Arguing after Orm got huffy about your friendship with Arthur, then making out in the sand, then Orm feasting like a king, and then…

“No, no, I don’t need to be reminded,” you answered in a strained voice, your face slowly turning red as his smirk grew wider. “I remember quite clearly thank you very much, and now that we’ve cleared that, I need to hop in the shower.”

Pulling your body from the bed, you raised your arms above your head and stretched, enjoying the feeling of stretching your arms and shoulders out. Lowering your arms, you let out a yawn as you headed for the bathroom, oblivious to the fact that you were giving Orm a full view of your cheeky underwear.

Since indicated night of which you will not be speaking of, Orm and you had been sharing your bed. As it turned out, he was a big cuddler and had no issues making that clear to you. You didn’t explicitly say you’re dating, but at this point, you were fairly sure you were more than just dating given the Atlantean culture and views on ��dating’ in general.

Considering his upbringing, he wasn’t exactly a PDA type of man, but he did like to let others know you were taken, and that meant hand-holding, opening doors for you, maybe a little too much hovering when another man was around you, and the occasional death glare. But when it was just the two of you, he was a hands-on type of man. It was like he was rewarding himself for keeping his hands to himself. You weren’t going to complain, his arms wrapped around your body was literally the best thing you had ever felt.

Stripping out of your tank and underwear, you quickly hopped in the shower and started washing your hair. You were nearly finished rinsing the shampoo from your hair when a wave of nausea hit you. Putting a hand over your mouth, you leaned forwards and pressed your forehead into the cool tile of the shower, counting slowly to ten in your head.

You could not throw up. You would not throw up. You will not throw up.

The wave of nausea passed and you let out a deep breath, glad you didn’t have to scramble for the toilet and have Orm wondering why you were throwing up, and go all Ocean Master on you because it was entirely unacceptable that you were sick and not feeling well. Taking a deep breath, you finished your shower and wrapped yourself up in a towel.

Walking back into the bedroom, you saw Orm propped up against the headboard, book in hand. Smiling at the sight, you turned to the dresser and started riffling through its contents for an outfit to wear. Orm was developing an appreciation for Surface Dweller literature, so you often made trips to the local library to check out several books.

Deciding to go with a navy suit today, you grabbed your white set of lace underwear and bra. Your meetings with Mrs. Johnston about the tagging station up north required you to be dressed more formally, even if it was only going to be a fifteen-minute talk. Doing a quick dry of your body, you tossed the towel onto the bed and shimmied your underwear up your legs before hooking your bra on.

“Don’t forget that you are going fishing with Tom today,” you said as you took out your navy pencil skirt and pulled it up your hips. Orm, who had been quietly watching you get dressed, raised a blond eyebrow.

“You needn’t worry, Beloved, I have not forgotten.” Orm replied with a smile. “Mother is dropping by while we are out, I believe she wants to further bond with you.”

“If you want to call it that,” you huffed with a small laugh before grabbing a white blouse with button on the upper half and shoving your arms through the sleeves. “It’s just female time, nothing too extravagant, we both need to escape the testosterone somehow.”

Orm’s lips twitched but he remained silent as you quickly buttoned the top few buttons, leaving a few undone, and stuffing the ends of the shirt into your skirt. Today was a special kind of day, Orm was going out with Tom, who he had a mutual respect for now, while Atlanna and you would spend a day without men around. Tonight, you were planning on meeting up with Arthur and Mera to eat at a restaurant.

Now that things were calming down, Arthur and Orm were trying to make things work between them, and they both made sure to visit their mother every few months. You were looking forward to hearing more stories about Atlantis from Atlanna, and Orm was looking forward to getting out on the water.

It was a win-win scenario.

Grabbing your matching navy blazer, you folded it across your arm before dipping your feet into your plain black heels and walking over to where Orm lounged.

“I won’t be long, I think we still have leftover pancakes in the fridge if you’re interested in those for breakfast.” you told him with a smile before leaning over and kissing him. “I’ve got my cell on me, you need anything just give me a ring.”

“Only if you promise to be safe,” Orm countered, just like he always did when you left the house.

“I’m always careful,”

“We will agree to disagree on that statement then,” Orm huffed as you drew back. “Stubborn woman,”

“Mmh, your stubborn woman, may I remind you.” you grinned back as you shifted the blazer over your arm. That brought a smile to his lips. He always liked it when you reminded him that you were his, and his alone. With a smile on your lips, you headed out to take care of the one piece of business you had today.

Driving back from Perry, the town where the tagging station was located, you were glad to have a moment of peace in terms of your nausea. It was becoming clear that you weren’t going to be able to hide this from Orm much longer; he wasn’t an idiot. Your only option at this point was to talk to Atlanna and hopefully gain some motherly insight on what you should do, especially considering how protective Orm is.

She was used to dealing with stubborn, obstinate Atlantean men; if anyone could help you out, it was her. Turning into Amnesty Bay, you drove through the town as you wound your way back up to your house. Parking your car out front of your house, you pulled the keys from the ignition before sliding out of your seat.

Closing the car door, you made your way up the paved path to your front door; by now Tom and Orm would be out fishing, and Atlanna would be reading in your living room. Just as expected, Atlanna was sitting on your couch reading one of the Lord of the Rings books.

“Good morning,” you greeted with a big smile as you set your purse and keys down on a side table. Atlanna looked up from the book with a big smile.

“Eva, it is good to see you again! I have missed your company.” Letting out a small laugh, you saw down in your armchair.

“I think I’ve missed being around females in general,” you chuckled back before running a hand through your hair. “Atlanna… can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, you can talk to me about anything… is everything alright with Orm?” Atlanna asked, her eyes scanning you. “You look fatigued, are you feeling unwell?”

“Kind of, I wanted to ask what is the best way to break it Orm that I’m not feeling well without him going all Ocean Master on me and refusing to let me leave the house until I’m feeling better,” you explained as you twisted your fingers together.

“Darling, Orm is going to be protective no matter how you break the news to him,” Atlanna told you, which made you let out a small groan. “You aren’t sick with something serious though, are you?”

You shrugged in response.

“You— I don’t really know what’s going on with me, yeah I’ve been dealing with some sort of stomach bug, but that’s not all that’s bothering me,” you admitted, chewing on your lip. “I mean does living with an Atlantean affect a surface dweller? Because I’ve been craving a lot of fish lately, and I used to hate it… and I’ve discovered I like swimming and can hold my breath a lot longer than I used to. It’s all so confusing, the water around here isn’t warm enough for someone like me to tolerate swimming around, I’d get hypothermia.”

Your fingers wrung together as you shook your head.

“I feel like I’m going crazy, and every day that goes by where I’m hiding it from Orm makes me feel like I’m betraying him.” Atlanna reached over and took one of your hands, unweaving your jumble of fingers.

“Deep breaths, Eva,” Atlanna said softly as she gently squeezed your hands. That’s when you realized you had worked yourself up in a matter of seconds. Nodding your head, you took a few slow breaths.

“Sorry, I just— I really want Orm to know that he can depend on me to always be honest with him and that I will never keep secrets from him, but I don’t want him worrying.”

“This isn’t anything to worry about, Eva,” Atlanna reassured you gently; your eyebrow rose up.

“You know what this is? Is it Atlantean related? Is it temporary?” you questioned in rapid succession. She chuckled at you before brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Oh your condition isn’t anything to worry about, Eva, quite the opposite, and it would explain why you are craving fish, and are adapting to the water,” she said with a warm smile.

“What is it then?” you questioned, your eyes searching hers. “Did I get some weird Atlantean cooties from Orm or something?”

“If you want to call a child cooties, then yes,” Atlanna replied with a light chuckle.

“Wait what?” you questioned, your brain thinking you had misheard her. Her smile grew and she took your hand with both of hers.

“You are pregnant, Eva, not sick, it isn’t anything to worry about.” That one word echoed in your mind, and a second later your face turning bright read. It was official, Atlanna knew you had slept with her son.

“I— but— how—“ you were floundering for words while your cheeks burned with heat and the Atlantean queen chuckled, patting the back of your hand.

“We are compatible, Arthur is proof of that.”

“I know but are you sure? How is it that I am gaining Atlantean abilities? I— I am one hundred percent surface dweller.”

“But the child you carry is not, and you two are connected.” You were shaking your head, your face still burning that brilliant shade and indicating your mortification.

“But we only— Atlanna I can’t be, I— Orm and I are just— oh hell Orm, what is he going to think? Wait, I might not be and maybe this is just some side effect?” You were blurting out every excuse your brain could think of while Atlanna let you deny it to your heart's content. “It was only one time, only one time…”

“There is one way to make sure,” Atlanna reminded you. “That is if you wish.”

You let out a stressed breath, trying to control your emotions and slight shaking. Nausea, vomiting, fatigue, cravings, mood swings, it all made sense, but the logical side of you needed hard proof.

“I guess that means I’ll be running up to the drug store,” you whispered out, your shoulders sinking in defeat.

“Would you like me to go with you?” Atlanna offered; you shook your head.

“No, I’ll be quick,” you told her before getting up. Retrieving your purse and car keys, you headed back out to pick up some pregnancy tests. Your hand was shaking when you tried inserting the key into the ignition, and it took a few tries before you fully got it in and started the car.

The entire drive to the nearest drug store you could feel your heart racing in your chest as the fight or flight mode kicked in. Pregnant. It just wasn’t something you had ever considered, especially considering Orm and you were from two different worlds. Yes, you loved him very much, and he acted like he loved you back, you were sure he loved you back. But throw a baby into that mix and you were in unknown waters.

Five minutes later you were in line to buy three pregnancy tests, maybe one too many, but you had to make sure. If one of them said yes, then you were. Paying for the tests, you scurried back out to your car and headed back to your house, feeling like you were sneaking around Amnesty Bay.

Entering your house, Atlanna and you looked over the three tests, reaching the directions of each of them. It seemed simple enough, pee on the sticks and then wait. With the three sticks clutched in your trembling fingers, you entered your half bath and followed the instructions. When you were done, you headed for the living room, setting them down on the coffee table before taking a seat and staring out the sliding glass doors.

You were afraid of what they would reveal.

Five minutes later you still refused to look at the tests, your hands forming little fists and resting on your knees as you stared vacantly out at the distant surf.

“Would you like me to check them for you?” Atlanna asked; your eyes which were prickling with tears turned her way.

“I don’t think I can stomach looking at them,” you told her quietly. A few moments went by.

“They are all positive,” you closed your eyes and felt a few tears run down your cheeks before you were dropping your head into your hands.

“Oh God, he’s not going to want it and he’s going to be so mad at me,” you moaned, digging your fingernails into your scalp. “What am I going to say to him?”

“Eva, dear,” Atlanna spoke, taking your hands from your hair. You lifted your head to look into her eyes. “Orm will not be mad, trust me, my son loves you very much, and if anything he will be elated by this news.”

“How do you know that?” She smiled down at you, brushing at your hair.

“Atlantean men do not lay with a woman unless they intend to spend the rest of their lives together.” She explained with a small chuckle. “My son is very much smitten with you Eva, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I still feel like my stomach is going to turn inside out,” you whispered, Atlanna only smiled before pulling you in for a hug.

It was later that night that the four of you, joined by Arthur and Mera, ate at one of the nicer restaurants in Amnesty Bay. Arthur had stared at you in surprise when you had ordered a very seafood-centric plate. You had given him a look and mumbled about Orm rubbing off on you.

From there you steered clear of the wine, and anything that you had learned pregnant women should avoid in the time you had before Tom and Orm had gotten back. Luckily, the conversation turned pleasant and you could relax, just enjoying sitting next to Orm partially in your own little world.

Unfortunately, when it came time for dessert, you had to forgo your favorite triple chocolate cake slice that you pretty much always go when you ate at this restaurant. Both Orm and Arthur had given you weird looks when you had refused dessert.

“Are you sure Eva?” Orm questioned, looking down at you with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. You gave him a smile and nodded.

“I’m full, no need to fill up on cake I don’t need,” you nervously laughed, waving a hand in the air. Orm wasn’t convinced, neither was Arthur, but they didn’t push it. “Enough about me, tell me how Atlantis is doing…”

That got Mera started on some new construction and laws that were taking place, which thankfully took the conversation and attention off you. Slumping back in your seat with a soft sigh, you rested your elbow on the table and dropped your cheek into your hand. Beneath the table, you felt a large warm hand take your free one you had resting on your thigh.

Your fingers curled around Orm’s larger ones as you kept your gaze on Mera talking animatedly about the project she was helping to manage. His thumb was gently stroking the palm of your hand, easing some of the jitters running through your body.

Well, so much for trying to go under the radar; Orm officially knew something was up with you but thank heavens the man wasn’t inclined to ask what it was while you were at dinner. You would have been mortified. Eventually, the meal finished up and the six of you were heading back to your house.

While Tom and Atlanna talked with Orm, Arthur, and Mera in your living room, you got a pot of coffee going. The smell of the coffee was absolutely divine, and yet torturous, caffeine was a no-go, and that meant no coffee for you, which was going to suck majorly. Muttering under your breath about the unfairness of it all, you grabbed a tray and pulled down five coffee cups. The coffee was dribbling away when Atlanna came walking into the kitchen.

“Here, let me take it,” Atlanna said before taking the tray from you. “I’m sure they are already suspicious enough as it is…”

“When do I tell him?” you questioned anxiously, wringing your fingers together before glancing at the kitchen drawer that held the positive tests.

“When you are ready, Eva, if you want to wait until everyone has left and it’s just you two, that is fine. You needn’t stress over it.”

“I—“ you stumbled out that one word before running a hand through your hair and fretting further. “Atlanna, he knows I’m hiding something from him, he knows. We’ve spent enough time around each other to pick up on those types of cues.”

“My son won’t just question you outright in front of the others, Eva, he won’t subject that to you.” Fidgeting where you stood you looked at the kitchen drawer once more. “Eva,” Your eyes flickered back to Atlanna. “No one is going to pressure you into telling, take your time.”

With that, she glided back towards the living room, coffee tray in hand. Biting down on your lips, you skittered over to the kitchen drawer and pulled it open. It was basically a drawer that held random bits and bobs, a few miscellaneous keys, nail clippers, a tape measure, a couple pens, and the positive pregnancy tests.

Just rip it off like a bandaid, Eva, there is plenty of time to wallow in self-misery later at his response.

Picking up the pregnancy tests, you stuffed them into your blazer pocket before heading after Atlanna. Entering the living room, you saw Tom fixing himself and Atlanna their coffee, Arthur drinking his straight black as usual, while trying to convince Mera to try the hot beverage, and Orm standing aloof, scowling at the tray with one remaining cup.

“Do you not want coffee?” you questioned him as you sidled up to him, pressing your sweaty palms into your skirt. “I can get you tea instead if that’s what you want…”

Orm turned his sharp blue eyes to you, and his scowl lightened up. He slipped an arm around your waist and pulled your body against his while looking deep into your eyes.

“Are you feeling unwell tonight?” He questioned vaguely. “You didn’t fix yourself a drink, and you’ve never refused to order your favorite cake…”

His voice was soft as were his questions and for only your ears to pick up on. Letting out a deep sigh, you slumped into his side and rested your head on his shoulder. How could he be so perfectly in tune with you?

“Hey Eva, you feeling okay?” Arthur spoke up, and turning your head to look at him, you saw that he was staring at you with a frown. “You haven’t been acting like yourself at all today; you never skip the wine and cake at The Oyster, and I have never seen you not fix yourself a mug of coffee.”

Your eye twitched in irritation at him for blatantly pointing it out. Orm might be a perfect gentleman, picking up on social cues, but Arthur… not so much. Tom, who probably figured your situation out the moment you refused the wine, sighed and shook his head at his son.

“Perfectly fine thank you very much, Arthur,” you responded crisply, giving him a look; he caught it, and in a couple of seconds, a light bulb went off in his head.

“Ohhhhh,” He dragged out, Mera elbowed him heavily in the side as you turned to look up at Orm.

“Can we talk?” You questioned him before nodding your head at the sliding glass doors. “Privately?”

“Of course, beloved,” Orm responded, his forehead crinkling slightly before he started leading you towards the indicated doors. The further you moved away from the cottage, the more it felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. “Eva, you are practically shaking; whatever it is you are hiding from me, I promise you I won’t be mad.”

“It—“ You started, struggling to find the right words to say. “I don’t know how to tell you, and I’m afraid you will be mad.”

“Eva,” Orm said gently, turning to you and taking your cheeks in his hands. “There is nothing you could say that could make me mad at you, maybe hurt, but not mad.”

You could think of a few things that would make him so hurt he would be mad, but you weren’t going to bring that up. With a slightly shaking hand, you reached into your pocket and withdrew the two tests to bring them in front of you. Then ever so slowly, you turned your eyes down to look at them. Orm’s gaze followed until you were both looking at your trembling hand holding the tests.

Orm released your cheek with one hand and carefully steadied your shaking hand by taking your wrist. The plus sign and the word pregnant steadied and became readable.

“The answer to your question is,” you finally answered. “No, I have not been feeling well.”

The tests were pulled from your hands, and seconds later Orm was kneeling in the sand, his hands on your hips as he pressed his forehead against your still fairly normal stomach. Your hands hovered frozen near his head, not really knowing what to do.

“Orm, please say something.” You whispered, your anxiety at an all-time high.

“You being the mother of my child is the greatest gift you could have given me, Eva,” Orm replied softly, his fingers pulling your body further into his.

“Even if it’s a half breed?”

“It has your blood, Eva, that is more than enough for me.” Letting out a sigh of relief, you slipped your fingers into his hair. “Is this why you have been avoiding your favorite things?”

“Most of my favorite things are not good for a pregnant woman,” you explained while running your fingers through his soft hair. “That includes chocolate, wine, and coffee.”

“You had me worried, Eva,” Orm said giving you another squeeze. “I am relieved to know that you are not ill.”

“Tell that to the morning sickness,” you huffed underneath your breath before finding your feet leaving the sand as Orm stood up, his hands still on your waist. Wobbling around, you clutched at his neck as he started walking you back towards your cottage. “You say you’re the one lucky to have me, but sometimes I feel like I’m the lucky one.”

Orm looked into your eyes with a curve to his lips. You moved your left hand to hold his cheek, your fingers running along his skin.

“I don’t think I say it enough, but I love you,” you told him. “More than anything in the world.”

“I would repeat your words, but I’m afraid there might be something I will love more than you.” Orm returned quietly as he swung you up to cradle your body in his arms. You raised an eyebrow. “Our child, beloved, my love for our child might rival the love I have for you.”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

Date Published: 12/20/20

Last Edit: 4/28/24

Previous | Masterlist

#orm marius #orm marius x reader #aquaman

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maxwell-grant · 1 year

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whats the deal with Doc Savage?

"He's a doctor, okay, but what's so savage about him? That he goes in public without a shirt? Y'know, he's got a caveman in his group and everything, and that guy is a chemist who runs around doing monkey flips and beating bad guys with his bare hands. Why don't they call him Doc Savage? He’s doing more to deserve the name.”

“Everytime it’s something weird and horrifying happening that only he is able to solve. And it's always some guy running a con at the end. Everytime Savage rolls into town, it's like opposite world when it's the doctor who has to save people from being scammed, instead of the other way around.

"I'm just saying, nobody's that perfect. He goes around with guns shooting people with what he calls "mercy bullets" that only put bad guys to sleep. Yeah, they go to sleep allright, and if that fails, I'm sure the compassion grenades do the trick.

"You're saying they rejected your application for the Fabulous Five? That's nuts." "Blew me out the front door, I tell you! Total insanity. Newman was there, he saw the whole thing." "No, what's insane is that you thought you had a shot in the first place. Nobody "joins" the Fabulous Five, it's like the most elite group in the country. What did you think you were adding there?" "Jerry, how hard can it be to play sidekick to that guy? He does everything they do better, I'd just have to sit around playing cheerleader and wait for him to save the day, I already do the first part all day around you. It's the perfect job! What, you think you're too good for it?" "No, but I have a little something called self-esteem. It's the Fabulous Five, George, not the Fabulous Plus Extra. They already made room for that girl cousin of his, they're not making extra for you." "Maybe, shmaybe. Unless I got that Tom guy fired. I mean, he looks like he's on his way out the door as is. "Electrical wizard", pssht, I could do that." "Sure you could. I mean hey, why don't you ask Elaine to set up you two? She got to meet Doc himself last weekend." "No way." "I'm serious! Apparently Doc saved Peterman's life during a mission in Burma and they'd kept in touch since then, and she got some kind of date with him out of it."

"He was a no show?" "Oh, he is all show allright." "So you two -" "No! I mean, I got to see him in action a couple of times and, yeah, I tried. But every date with him was a wash, he always needs to cut things off halfway to go fight some supervillain, and then he never calls back. He barely even looks at me when we're IN the date." "Well he's Doc Savage. He's like Superman, y'know, he's got places to be and people to save. "Yeah, and who's gonna save me? I swear Jerry, it's like he's never even seen a woman before. Him and those five morons around him, bunch of misogynists. Whatever, he's hot, but I'm over him. Miss Savage no more." "I'll bet. Hey, what's this?" "Oh it's from the fitness spa I'd been going near work. There's this girl I'd been talking to lately ever since Peterman assigned me the Hidalgo Trading Company catalogue, she's been giving me the skinny on Doc and his frat boy clubhouse "Oh?" "Yeah she's big, like, really big, really smart too. She's got a yacht, even. Apparently she does a lot of traveling. Anyway, she's this fitness freak with a great tan and bronze hair and, big muscles, and she's got these beautiful gold eyes and-" "And you're saying all that because you think I'd be into her?" "Huh? You? Oh, pfft, no, she's way too much for you." "I'll bet. And, uh, what's her name again?" "Oh everyone at the club just calls her Pat. Mystery lady. I'm meeting her down at her yacht next week." "Yeah. Miss Savage no more, huh."

(SLAM) (audience cheers)

"Hey, how did things go at the Crime College?" "Oh it-it-it was a NIGHTMARE! It-itya it's like waterboarding at Guantanamo Bay, Jerry! Way less fun than it sounds!! I'd heard the name on the street and signed up to learn how to fight crime, nobody told me what it was actually about! "What happened?" "Well, at first it was kinda nice, actually. You sign up at the Hidalgo Trading Company lobby, and they ask you to submit your criminal record. I figured, hey, safest place to leave it, right? You meet some of his assistants and everything, and when they hooked the eletrodes to my brain I thought hey, *click* free brain massage along with crimefighting lessons for free!" "Wait Kramer back up, electrodes?"

----

"Allright so if I get this straight: You signed up for a program Doc Savage's running that nobody knows about called the Crime College, thinking it was gonna teach how to fight crime. You get in there and it's some kind of nuthouse where Doc Savage tries to pry open your brain with a drill." "A-yup." "And he's lobotomozing criminals all over town because he's running a program where he, what, carves their brain to make them stop being evil and gives them new identities outside of town." "Ye-yup." "And they never remember who they used to be? They never come back, not ever, they just become model citizens as far away from here as possible? Are you 100% sure it actually works?" "So they said, yeah." "...Hey pass me the phone for a minute, will ya-"

"Hey Newman, I heard from Elaine that the Hidalgo Trading Company is hiring now."

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #doc savage #lester dent #seinfeld #shitpost

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keeksybee · 1 year

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Rick and Spanish:

I’ve always wondered why he never speaks Spanish, Sanchez is obviously a Spanish name and while I get not using it with the kids or Beth because he actually cares about them understanding him, it’s totally in his character to use it with other Ricks or to piss Jerry off knowing it would drive him crazy to be talked about and have no idea what he was saying.

My main premise to this is I honestly don’t believe Rick is a no sabo kid (nothing wrong with being one BTW) I’ve done the math and if we assume Beth is 34 at the beginning of the series in 2013 (Summer must have been born 1996 when Beth was 17 and Morty would’ve come 3 years later in ‘99) that makes her birth year 1979 and presuming Rick had a slightly more planetary mindset when she was born that makes him 23-26 as was average for having kids back then, making his birth year 1953-1956.

Historically I get Beth not being taught Spanish to avoid discrimination, maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad when she was growing up but If Rick’s parents immigrated during WW2 , just before or after Rick was born or when Rick was a very young child that makes him a first gen immigrants child and while northern states were better, they weren’t great either, he would have very much been subjected to some pretty intense racism that he wouldn’t have wanted for his daughter no matter how much it hurt him to not know part of her own culture.

However I also believe Rick’s defiance streak is probably genetic and like hell he would give up his first language just to assimilate like many children of that generation may have been forced to, it was a thing in immigrant homes in America, particularly South American ones ( I’m not sure where the name Sanchez would be from specifically) where the children were banned from speaking their own languages. He however, was Rick Sanchez and would steadfastly refuse to be ashamed of himself or where he came from. It would have been a massive scandal when he married Dianne in their small town, she was most likely pretty, popular and white, he would have been heavily targeted as the schools wouldn’t have been non segregated for very long by the time he was in high school. Marrying Dianne was probably a very satisfying “Fuck you” to people who’d tormented him.

Which leads to the question why do we never hear him use Spanish. Six seasons and 40 years of heavy drinking and drug use and we never hear him slip once, and it’s not like he doesn’t screw up in other areas, language would be a simpler one. He never switches, never even swears in it, but there has to be something that triggers it.

I always imagined it would be Morty getting mortally wounded in a way that he can’t seemingly fix with what’s available to him. His June-bug is bleeding out in front of him and he can’t do shit, another person he couldn’t save. He breaks down, clutching the limp body his grandson, begging a god he doesn’t believe for the first time since his teens in a desperate mix of Spanish and English to do something, and illogically, when he thinks Morty has died, giving him what he remembers of his last rights knowing that if there’s a God the fact it’s him administering his rights is probably not doing any favours for his Grandson’s eternal soul, but then Morty miraculously coughs up blood.

He coughs up blood, not good but it means he’s alive, he can think now, he can do something, so he does.

Morty survives. Barely. He erases the memory, even he considers it too traumatic for Morty to recall, but he has to live with it, it haunts him, it haunts him in a way he hasn’t felt since his Dianne and Beth were killed in his dimension. That’s when he starts speaking to Morty in Spanish, the occasional “mijo” here, the rarer story about his upbringing there and openly conversing in Spanish with other Ricks in Morty’s presence.

Morty learns almost fluent Spanish in four months just to try and spite him. That’s his June-bug, guess Beth did pass down that competitive spirit, and some of his smarts too. It’s nice talking regularly in his mother tongue again even if he’d never tell Morty that, and it’s adorable when his grandson can’t pronounce something properly, messes up the tense of a word or stumbles in Spanish when he’s pissed off, it reminds him of a little kid. He gently corrects the tense errors under his guise of grumpy, codgery old man, Morty doesn’t even know how much better he gets.

Jerry’s pissed that he now doesn’t understand his father in law or his son, but that’s okay, it’s Jerry.

#rick and morty #rick and diane #beth smith #morty smith #rick sanchez #rick is not a no sabo kid #spanish #bilingual

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moodywyrm · 1 year

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as a chubby girl your work brings me so much comfort 🩷

also as a latina abby x mannysister!reader KILL ME just throwing this out there

-is ♌️ taken?

it is not!! hi baby!! are you a Leo?

and now this one I can get behind. ya know how people always do the character's sibling thing but it's a white person. ya no. let my people have this one. we're doing this in bullet points bc I have scattered thoughts

so I'm laying this out with the ages like: Manny 22, Abby 21, You 21, you all go to the same university

You and Manny were always close, so when he meets Abby at college in her first year, instantly he's introducing you to each other. Mostly because you two are important to him, but also because he doesn't want you to be a loner your first year (like I was

A part of him wants to be like, do not Touch my little sister, but he also knows that you two would be an excellent match, so begrudingly he sits back and is a lil match maker as you two get closer and closer until boom! girlfriends!

onto the latine stuff:

Abby is a FAVORITE at the carne asada. All of your tias y tios y primos love her!! We are going to forget for a moment that latine culture can be Super Homophobic and just roll with it, all of your tias love her. She helps take all the dishes and stuff out to the backyard, sometimes she helps cook, she's just a dream <3

100% starts learning Spanish when she becomes friends with Manny and then kicks it into high gear when you two get together

It's a lil bit broken, but your family encourages her <3 with teasing <3 you have to explain it's not out of malice but you also ask them to tone it down bc she's sweetie pie <3

she gets very used to late night paleteria runs, her usual order is tostilocos (con todo) y agua de fresa

she loves the snacks soooo much. swears that Mexican candy is better than American candy, and she's right <3

the first time she tried posole she had an out of body experience. life changing. she loves it. so now you make it every time her birthday comes around, or when you want to treat your girl <3

celebrates dia de los muertos with you, puts a picture of her mom on there and her first dog (in game, she would 100% put a picture of Jerry if she had one, still sets things out for him)

Christmas in a Mexican family is such a fucking event man, you two are taking the worlds Best Nap ever after eating ponche, tamales, posole, the works. I'm talking fabric wrinkles on the skin, drool everywhere, sweaty, deep deep sleep <3

also she adores music in Spanish. Natalia lafourcade? you two are dancing together in the kitchen. any reggaeton? she's learning to swivel her hips, give her time ok. Vicente Fernandez? baby acts like she's just been horribly heartbroken. she's so cute I love her soooo much <3

I will probably have more thoughts but rn the manny's sister well has run dry

#♌️ anon #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader fluff

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thegratefulsouth · 5 months

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TBOC thoughts feelings questions reelings

This is kind of a placeholder post before I do my rewatch of DD S1, gathering things to look out for. I'm trying to find my thoughts! The things I'm missing. Little bit on Isabelle.

The most recent trailer. I know there are differing opinions over whether it is Carol or Isabelle asking Daryl to tell her a story.

All my thoughts are hinged on not really knowing what does and what does not have a deeper meaning or connection to Caryl (the boats), which is distracting, so I'm going to ignore that and just delve in.

"Tell me a story."

My thoughts go straight to Carol in Alexandria, and her reasoning that, "these people are children, and children like stories."

And Isabelle is infantile within her manipulation. She's perfectly capable of looking after herself, in the way Carol learned to. Isabelle doesn't seem to want to do that though? Not when Daryl's around. Gotta rewatch.

This is at a time when Daryl's mind is still buzzing with Carol saying, "You never have to worry about me, Daryl."

Leading into TBOC, I don't have any concerns about Caryl's feelings for each other or their loyalty. But I am prepping for an emotional journey with a Nun who recklessly lies, who could potentially feel threatened, who could not necessarily cause harm, but could maybe not intervene if it was needed. All in order to benefit herself, what she wants, despite how this might affect someone she seems to care about. That's what I see! It could be interesting. Or it could all just be a hinge. Like all the boats. I really wanted the boats to mean something.

Further referencing stories, Daryl says to Isabelle (in 1x06), "This has always been the story, ever since I washed ashore here." Cementing that his motivation to return home has never wavered.

The family thing? The promise? Home?

The promise is another hinge. Daryl knows something is up with Carol. "You sure you're ok?" She misses you, Daryl. You're not there. She needs you!

"I'll be back in about a week, I promise."

This promise is mostly used to propel Daryl's story, like he needs to return because he made a promise. (Not just because he wants to go home). There are other promises being made around this, to get to the nest, anything related to the ultimate goal of Daryl fulfilling his own promise to Carol (his happy ending).

This promise carries more weight than, "it's not like we're never gonna see each other again." It's in the same vein as, "I wish you were coming with me." In their radio call, the line cuts out, so there's no way of knowing how they might have said goodbye to each other.

So, what I think, and stay with me, is that everytime Daryl talks about the promise he made, he's just basically saying that he loves Carol. No, this is going to make my rewatch so fun, let me have this! I can't remember so much of this show I swear.

I mentioned in my DD overall thoughts, that some things are too painful to say (eg, Carol's name over Connie's in the name drop, IMHO). It's easier for Daryl to say that he made a promise, or that he has family back home, and also, nothing with unsaid looks, than it is for him to say that he left the love of his life, and he promised (loves) her, and he needs her.

"He is the the only family I have left."

This is a tying thread for me, this family thing.

Daryl says, "I got family waiting for me back home."

I have 3 points:

1. Carol is trying to convince someone to help her get to Daryl? She's trying to make her case as convincing as possible, really sell that thing with butter and icing.

2. There may be others at the Commonwealth Carol could consider family. Like who though? Ezekiel and Jerry are friends, but family is under the skin. Family was that core group. The kids aren't going to provide her with that companionship she longs for. I'm not sure on the timeline if Rick and Michonne are back yet. But my point is, Carol's happy ending is not going home to an empty apartment, she doesn't want to be alone, she tells Daryl he never needs to worry about her, with the commitment of someone who made dinner plans when they were feeling social and energetic, and now she's home in her pyjamas, and Daryl hears straight through it.

3. When Carol dreams, she dreams of Daryl and Henry. I think it's reasonable to suggest that in her mind, the notion of a nuclear family springs, and in that, Daryl is really the only family she has left. This is the empty apartment thing again, but I like having 3 points. It makes sense to me. She is his home, she is his promise, she is his family. And he is hers.

There is annoyingly a fair bit of discussion about maybe Daryl realising that he actually belongs where he doesn't belong, and that his home is somewhere else, like in France, away from his family. This is irritating because Daryl completely ignores this line of thought, instead of just shutting it down. But, also, Daryl completely ignores this line of thought, and the only thing he says of that notion, to Isabelle, at the nest, is:

"I kinda like it here. Yeah. It kind of grows on you. Feels like home."

But he says this as he's getting ready to leave Isabelle, and more significantly, Laurent, in this place, which feels homey. He's reassuring himself that he's doing the right thing by these new clingy folk who like to pull at his saviour complex heartstrings. Daryl is happy, his boat is coming in. He spends a significant amount of time staring out the window during this scene, where I'm wondering if the ocean is? It's an island right. Where the boats sometimes are? Cause the boat is his path home. The point is, he's not entirely present in this moment. Not with Isabelle and her wound.

And the very last thing he says on the matter is, "And this place feels like home to you, and I truly hope it is for both of you. But I have my own home to get back to."

Lastly, I love Caryl. I already have more than I need from this beautiful pair. But these characters deserve to be happy. They want what they want, I tell you.

#carol peletier #caryl #caryl is endgame #tboc

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jonathanbyersphd · 10 months

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Happy WIP Wednesday here's some ramblings from 4AM me

Overall Nancy thinks the party is just fine. Nothing catastrophic but nothing exciting either. As far as she's concerned it's just another run of the mill Wheeler Family Christmas Party. That is until about an hour in when she catches a glimpse of Jonathan across the room and he looks like he's fighting a Demogorgon. She's not sure who he's gotten trapped in conversation with but he looks so helpless that it's almost cute. Not that she'd ever tell him that. Or that she relishes in his discomfort but something is reassuring about it. Like his awkwardness around others is a reminder of how close they are. And how special she is to him. Still, as she watches him worm his hands together behind his back she decides she should rescue him before he has a nervous breakdown. Nancy crosses the room with ease, briefly pausing to say polite hellos to relatives but keeping her eyes on the fidgety prize. “There you are” she announces, gently wrapping her arm around his back. He only jumps a little before lifting his arm so she can squeeze underneath. “Here I am” he resigns softly, like she's found him after a long game of hide and seek. In a way, they were playing hide and seek but she pushes down the sentiment so she can finish saving her damsel. “Can you help me grab something?” she requests, laying on the charm. Jonathan knits his brows together, not quite catching on her rescue attempt. She briefly wonders if Mom let him have Tom & Jerry's instead of the kiddie punch. She wouldn't put it past her, but she doubts that Joyce would be ok with it. Especially considering the recent vodka-grounding fiasco. “From upstairs” she presses with a flutter of her lashes for good measure. He looks at her like she's suggesting a midnight monster hunt, but then she watches it click into place for him. “Uh sure yea” “Nice meeting you” he lies to the party guest as they scurry away. Leave it to Jonathan to still be polite when he's uncomfortable. Once they reach the foyer he slides his hand into hers and she almost laughs as she guides them up the stairs. Hugging in front of other people is fine but holding hands is too intimate for an audience. It's one of the fun quirks that she's learned about him in the last month. She doesn't mind, it's endearing after all. Nancy opens the door to her bedroom and he follows her in. She drops his hand so she can close the door and swears she hears him whine. “So what did you need me to grab again?” he jokes, wrapping his arms around her water and hugging her from behind. “Very funny” she teases, turning around to look at him. Nancy loves looking at him. It's her guilty pleasure. Except she's feeling a lot less guilty about it these days. She can look at him as much as she wants, and touch him and kiss him and … Jonathan has a glint in his eye and the telltale smirk that usually leads to her bed, or his, or a stranger's.

#now someone help me outline the 15 page project proposal I'm supposed to be doing instead of writing xmas fics #stranger things #jancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #jancy fic #wip wednesday

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 1 year

Text

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 18

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2882

Warnings: Mention of death, swearing

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Homecoming Queen The Archer

****

Ghost

Raptor and Lightning greeted the girls exuberantly when they entered the house. Ghost took them out to use the bathroom while Juliette changed into comfier clothes. Ten minutes later, they were all on the couch scrolling through Instagram and watching The Notebook in the background.

Juliette gave Ghost a sideways glance. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Someone mentioned that you weren't too... enthused to be at the bar earlier. You also seemed more than a little gung-ho to leave. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. There's a lot going on right now, and I wasn't in the mood to socialize, but I'd promised Jackie I'd go," Ghost admitted, fiddling with her dog tags. "It's Ghoul's birthday today, so that's been on my mind mostly. Not to mention, my stunt from earlier didn't go over so well with Maverick. I was mortified when he confronted me about it."

"And? I know that look, Ghost."

"It's the only look I got."

"Annalise."

Ghost sighed and slumped into the cushions, her cheeks flaming while the truth rolled from her lips. If it had been anyone but Juliette, she would've played dumb, but for better or worse, Jules could see through all her bullshit. "I felt out of place. I mean, I had you, Rooster, Jackie, Bob, and Coyote, of course, but I can't rely on y'all to be my conversation holders the entire night. I don't know... I just wish I could be like Jackie sometimes. I don't know how she does it. She barely knew any of them but seemed to have no issues connecting with them, whereas I couldn't even figure out a stupid thing to say to start a conversation."

"Hey, you can always come to me when you feel out of place because I've been where you are. Hell, sometimes I feel like that, too, even with my history with the Daggers. It's nothing any of them do to make me feel that way, but they're all these kickass fighter pilots, and I'm me. They put their lives on the line every day, and I help make designs for jets. Point is you're not alone. If I'm there, you have me as backup, no matter what."

Ghost smiled appreciatively at her best friend. "Thank you, Jules. Have I ever told you how grateful I am for you?"

"No, but you don't need to. I know. Oh! Speaking of being grateful, I'm so happy you posted a new video on Instagram! You had this pregnant lady in tears."

"It wasn't meant to make you cry!"

"But I could feel your emotion in it! And don't worry about it; a lot of things make me cry right now. I blame it on the raging pregnancy hormones. Seriously, I cried because I finished off a pint of Ben & Jerry's, and then cried more when I realized how stupid it was that I was crying over ice cream."

"Uh, I would cry too. Ben & Jerry's is delicious! Do you have some?"

Juliette nodded. "Rooster is a saint and bought about twenty cartons when he discovered me staring at the empty container in tears. Once my nausea passes, you can bet your ass I'm getting one, but you're welcome to have one too."

"I'll wait-"

"Don't you dare wait for me if you want some!" Juliette argued, pointing a firm finger at her friend.

Ghost raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't know how this nausea thing works, though. Like, will you get sick watching me eat it? Or will the smell get to you? Because, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, I don't think you'll be able to get up off the couch and to the toilet in time if you do need to be sick."

"... I hate that you have a point. I'll be back." Juliette pushed herself off the couch and disappeared for a moment. She returned with an empty trash bin lined with a plastic bag. She collapsed onto the cushions and chirped, "Now I don't have to go to the bathroom. Go get that ice cream."

"Fine, fine, but let me know when you're ready for yours, and I'll get it for you."

"Yes, yes, now go." While Ghost headed to the kitchen, Juliette shouted after her, "So, the caption in your last video was kind of vague. Who were you singing the song about?"

Damn it, I was hoping she'd moved on from that. "Uh, an old acquaintance. We used to be best friends, shit happened, and we fell apart. That's all. Really not much to it," Ghost insisted, keeping the explanation short and to the point. Then, choosing to direct the conversation in an entirely different direction, she said, "Now, enough about me and my woes. Have you and Rooster chosen baby names yet?"

Juliette lit up like the sun. "Yes! We want to honor our dads and Bradley's mom. For girls, we're pretty set on Carole or Michelle."

"Michelle?"

"Feminine version of Mitchell. For boys, we have more options: Nick, Thomas, Mitchell, and Pete. Mitchell will be a middle name at most since that's my nephew's name. Bradley's been working on the nursery. We're going to have the babies share for a bit, and then we'll add an addition onto the house, make my office one of their bedrooms, and the new addition my office."

"If y'all need help with the nursery or the addition later on, let me know. I enjoy home renovation projects. Mainly the demolition part."

Juliette snorted. "That's Rooster's favorite part too. It's a wonder you and him didn't end up together with that shared mentality."

"Please don't remind me that I slept with your fiancé," Ghost groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I know I didn't know you at the time it happened, but it's still mortifying, even more so than when you told me who he was to you because you were at least broken up back then. Now, y'all are together and expecting babies-"

"Ghost!" Juliette grasped her friend's shoulder tightly. "Relax, okay? If it bothered me, I wouldn't bring it up, let alone joke about it. I trust you around him. If I didn't, you'd know. Besides-" a glimmer of mischief sparkled in her eyes- "I see how you look at Hangman."

Ghost scoffed. "You mean the look of utter contempt?"

"The first time I saw you two, I couldn't decide if you were going to kiss or kill each other. You may be old acquaintances, but he obviously made an impression on you the first time you met."

You're not wrong. "That's one way to put it. Now, are we going to talk about Hangman, or are we going to ogle Ryan Gosling?"

"Like you even have to ask." Juliette settled into the cushions, and a relieved Ghost followed suit. It's not that she was afraid Jules wouldn't understand her feelings toward Hangman, but Ghost didn't want to put her friend in an uncomfortable position between two of her closest friends. Besides, it's not like she didn't know some of the story already; Juliette simply hadn't put two and two together of the story Ghost told her long ago, and that was how she intended to keep it for as long as she could.

****

Ghost groggily opened her eyes and looked around in a daze, aware that The Notebook no longer played on the TV; instead, the iconic "what excellent boiled potatoes" line sounded, immediately alerting her to the new movie playing, another favorite of hers. Straightening up, she looked over at Juliette, who happily munched away on a pint of ice cream while watching Pride and Prejudice.

"How long have I been out?" Ghost asked, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

"About four hours. Just in time for the comedy show," Juliette replied with a smirk.

Ghost tilted her head. "The comedy show?"

At that moment, the door leading to the garage opened. Rooster's unmistakable voice whispered loudly, "SHHHHH. You're going to wake them up."

"This is why your call sign is Rooster. You're loud as fuck when people are trying to sleep," Hangman joked in an equally loud whisper. Ghost and Juliette shared a look and smothered their laughter.

"DOGS!" Coyote exclaimed gleefully and with no reservation in his tone. A solid smack sounded immediately after, followed by Coyote's disgruntled, "Ow!"

"Boys-" came Maverick's calm, sober voice- "they're already awake."

"Wait, they are?" Rooster's head popped out from behind the door frame, his sunglasses covering his eyes. Frowning, he stepped into the kitchen and placed his hands on his hips. Motioning at the girls, he said, "Look what you've done, Hangman!"

"Me?!" Hangman demanded indignantly, coming into view. For someone who was evidently more than a little tipsy, he appeared much more put together than his comrade. "You're the one who can't whisper to save his life. I bet Jules isn't getting sleep because you're one loud mother-"

"Don't swear! The babies could hear you!"

Hangman's expression twisted into annoyed confusion. "They won't remember if I say 'fuck' at this age."

"They will with how loud you're saying it."

Ghost leaned over and inquired quietly, "Are they always like this?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Juliette confirmed, eating one last spoonful of ice cream before standing up. Smiling in amusement at the boys, she asked, "How was tonight?"

"It was great!" Rooster replied cheerfully, hurrying over to his fiancée and kissing her. He turned to Ghost and hugged her tightly. "We missed you two there. Not the same. What have you been up to?"

"We had a girl's night, watched movies, ate some ice cream, and had a grand old time," Juliette responded, peering behind Rooster at Maverick. "Did you have much trouble getting him home?"

Maverick shook his head, chuckling. "Not really. Once I said you were waiting for him, he practically teleported to the Jeep. Hangman and Coyote followed to see you and the dogs."

"Speaking of Coyote-" Ghost looked at the kitchen area- "where exactly is he?"

Maverick glanced down beside him. "On the floor getting licked to death by the dogs."

"Wait, did I hear Ghost?!" Coyote inquired, suddenly popping up from behind the counter. "Ghost!"

He hurried over to her and lifted her into an air hug. Ghost laughed at his exuberance. Setting her back down, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you knew I was going to be here?" Ghost answered, steadying her friend when he wobbled slightly.

"I knew you were leaving. Didn't know you were staying with Jules. Hey, Hangman, did you know?"

Jake, now kneeling on the floor and petting the dogs, shrugged. "Yeah, I figured she'd be here."

Coyote leaned in conspiratorially and said in a hushed tone, "That's why he wanted to come with us then."

"Uh-huh, sure, Javy." Ghost patted his shoulder. "Captain Mitchell, do you need help getting these two back in your car?"

"No, I think they're okay. Mostly." Maverick eyed a swaying Coyote. "Ghost, do you have a ride home, or are you staying with Jules?"

"I was going to call an Uber."

Maverick waved a dismissive hand. "Don't. I've got you covered. Where do you live?"

"About five minutes north of here, but I don't want to add to the route if it's too out of the way."

"Don't worry about it. We're heading that way to Hangman and Coyote's, so it's no issue."

Ghost hesitated for a moment, wondering whether she should accept or not, but deciding against causing a potential scene, she agreed. Turning to Juliette, she said, "Thanks for letting me hang out with you tonight. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Of course. Maybe you can come over after Jackie leaves if you want to."

"Sounds like a plan. Good luck getting Rooster to bed."

"I have a feeling we're both going to be sleeping on the couch tonight," Juliette said, her eyes flicking over to the sofa where Rooster already snored softly. "Well, that didn't take long. Anyway, you guys get home safely. Text me to let me know."

"Yes, ma'am!" Coyote saluted her from the ground, rolled over, stood, and then marched out of the house. Hangman rolled his eyes, hugged Juliette goodbye, and then trailed after his friend. Maverick followed suit with Ghost on his heels. They approached the Jeep, where Hangman held the passenger door open. To her surprise, he motioned for Ghost to get in. All she could do was thank him and slide onto the seat. He shut the door after her, then moved to sit behind Maverick. Soon, they hit the road and headed to her place. With it being so late at night, traffic was nearly non-existent, and they arrived without any issue.

"Thanks for the ride, Captain Mitchell," Ghost said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Don't mention it. And please, call me Maverick. All my kids do," he told her kindly.

Ghost couldn't help the small smile that broke through. "I'll remember that, sir," she replied. Then, turning around to face Coyote behind, she added, "Thanks again for saving me from that guy at the bar earlier. I really do owe you one."

"No, no, no, you owe me nothing. Besides, I can't take all the credit. I wouldn't have even known had Hangman not mentioned something to me."

Ghost's eyes flicked to Jake, who visibly stiffened at the remark. Clearing his throat, he said casually, "I caught you trying to catch your sister's eye to send the SOS signal. I figured it was better to send Coyote to help you."

Ghost's heart wrenched painfully in her chest because she heard the unspoken words in his statement: Better to send Coyote to help than me. She remembered the last time he'd helped her all too well, how she questioned so many of her morals because of him. God knows what would've happened had he stepped in tonight instead of Coyote. As sincerely as she could, Ghost said, "Thank you, Jake."

His green eyes softened ever so slightly as he nodded in response. Suddenly feeling an overwhelming tension in the air, Ghost hurriedly said, "I'll see y'all soon. Get home safely, okay?"

Thanking Mav one more time for the ride, Ghost jumped out of the Jeep and rushed to her door, walking as fast as her legs would carry her without making it look like she wanted to run. Once inside, she sank against the door down to the floor, staring up at the ceiling in a desperate, futile attempt to view the heavens above.

"I wish you were here, Ghoul," Ghost whispered, wiping a tear off her cheek. "I could use your advice right now. Or your humor. I'd take either one at this point. I don't know what to do. I thought I hated him. I thought, after all this time, that this grudge that's been... that's been festering inside me all this time would turn into hatred, but it hasn't. It's annoyingly just stayed a grudge. And the truth of the matter is, I still love him, and I hate that I still do. It'd be so much easier if I hated him. It'd be easier to ignore him, to not overanalyze every fucking interaction and conversation we have, to not think about him even when he's not around. It'd be easier to move on with my life. But all I can think about, all I've thought about these past few years whenever something happens, is how I wish he were there with me or within reach so I can talk to him. When I got promoted, do you know who I wanted to tell first? Not my mom or my dad, not my sister, him. I physically reached for my phone and pulled up his name before I remembered I had cut him out of my life because he treated me like I was nothing when I needed him most. And when I think about that time, I remind myself that that's why I've kept my distance from him. Because I don't know what would happen if I let him break my heart like that again. I barely pulled myself back together after you died, and I can't... I can't go through that again. I'd rather face an entire terrorist organization by myself than go through feeling like that again. I'd rather feel nothing at all."

By now, the tears streamed freely down Ghost's cheeks, and her entire neck ached from trying to speak through the knot lodged in her throat. Still, she continued, the words spilling forth of their own free will with no intention of stopping until Ghost finally voiced what she'd been dying to say. "I'm so lost, Ghoul. I have friends around me, great friends; I have Juliette and Rooster; I have Coyote and Phoenix, but I still feel so alone. I wish you were here so badly. If you're listening, I need a sign. Give me a sign of what I'm supposed to do or who I'm supposed to talk to. Please. I'm begging you."

She waited for a text, a call, a knock, something, but nothing happened. Only silence responded to her anguished, tearful pleas. Ghost braced her head on her knees and quietly sobbed in the darkness of her apartment.

****

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dollarbin · 8 months

Text

Shakey Sundays #8:

Ragged Glory

Some things are worth waiting for.

At age 14 I dedicated way too many hours to MTV, hoping to catch Neil Young's Mansion on the Hill. I'd seen the song's video just once; the network had seemingly played it a single time just to tease me.

During my weeks of hapless watching and waiting I tried to remember all the crazy stuff in the video; it entered my dreams and morphed. Had there really been a funeral? Who was dead? Was Young a ghost for all of it? Did a choir really sing the silly lyrics? Was that Neil in the gas station too? Were there dinosaurs at one point? Or was I making that part up? And how did guys my dad's age play such killer guitar?

Well, I never got my answers; instead I saw nothing but Motley Crue's Dr Feelgood. Over and Over Again.

But just now, 34 years later, and thanks to this new technology I'm learning to use called google, I finally got to see the video for Mansion on the Hill a second time.

youtube

You can feel Young's burgeoning joy all over this silly video. He'd probably seen Monty Python and The Holy Grail only while stoned on tour and thought his opening gag was entirely original. He's not dead yet!

In midst of my hopeless adolescent search for the video I read in the LA Times that Young had made two additional videos for Ragged Glory, one of which involved high drama between a sexy couple on a balcony. But, reported the Times, neither video had any chance of ever getting a single second of airtime. The writer (it was probably Robert Hilburn, a total dad rock grump who routinely called Use Your Illusion 2 fantastic) mused in the piece on Young's possible motives: Was he delusional? Deceived? Nuts?

Well, making videos exactly how you wanted, which meant you knew would never be seen, sounded genius to me, and I quit watching MTV cold turkey in response. If they weren't going to play Neil Young they weren't going to have me.

I've been thinking about those mythical videos for 34 years straight now. Seriously, I've wondered about them once a month for 408 months in a row. I'm not proud to report this; I'm just a victim of the Dollar Bin (and Jerry Jeff Walker), living my life easy come, easy go...

And now, low and behold, here they are!

youtube

Sure enough, this first one, for the hook-heavy Over and Over, has the balcony stuff; witness the serious, VH1 level, drama: a sexy lingerie lady (women in this era of music videos only wore lingerie; none of them owned pants) squares off with an Anthony Bandaras type dude; passion ensues while the band unrelatedly rocks. There's nothing silly enough here for Shakey-level greatness, although it does look like Young did indeed summon his Budokan era wind machines from the Shocking Pinks desertscape. Hurricane force winds are needed for most of Neil's videos.

And then there's the video least likely to ever be seen by me / anyone else as a kid. Had I been a MTV VG at the time, even I wouldn't have played this for fear of a FCC shutdown: there's the swearing in it, sure, but there's also the guitar solos at the 2:30, 3:30 and 4 minute marks that are so gnarly they do not seem safe for public consumption.

youtube

Unlike the previous two videos from Ragged Glory, Fubbin' Up contains almost no plot; but half way through Neil does cavort with two different buxom ladies; someone has to stand in for Neil on stage and pretend to shred like him while he stumbles about with them. Neil Young's music videos: they make every Sunday Shakey.

As I've written previously, I do not own Ragged Glory on vinyl. (The lead photo above features my fired up cat and a record store promotion poster I got as a kid and have kept inside my copy of Live Rust ever since.) If you've got the record on vinyl and want to swap I'll gladly send you my copy of Old Ways in return (then I'll go buy another copy of that 80's masterpiece to mediocrity; I saw one yesterday for $8; where the hell were all the copies of Old Ways up until a year ago?).

Anyway, when I was 14 I bought Ragged Glory on tape and, truth be told, it was a little over my head. I loved it, sure, but like another perfect record of that era, The Cure's Disintegration, it was just too damn long for my adolescent attention level. I'd especially get lost during Love and Only Love and Love To Burn. The songs seemed interchangeable to me, and on some level they still do.

While we're at it, I'm gonna argue that those two songs heralded the often regrettable nature of Young's lyrics ever since; for every weird and spectral song like Without Rings or Music Arcade there are four or five that remind me not to forget love.

Memo to Neil: I am not in danger of forgetting about love. I'm happily married, and I am familiar with The Sermon on the Mount. But when I drop the needle, I want visitors from space in my Neil Young songs; I want to picture him walking down main street: not the sidewalk, but MAIN street.

But who am I kidding: I can't complain about Love to Burn or Love and Only Love, or anything else on this vital and classic record. No other 45 year old ever rocked this hard. At 45 Stephen Stills stayed fat and laid an egg. Just get this: Young permanently blew out his hearing not on tour for the record but while mixing the live album that followed. How cool is that? At 45 years old, while the rest of us were acting like grown-ups, he sat in a studio and listened to himself shredding at 11, thereby damaging his ears. When I was 45 the loudest thing I did was shout at the Dodgers. And it worked: they won the World Series.

But Neil kept up his revived crazy brilliance from this era long term. Check him out using Love and Only Love to lay siege to Farm aid with Ralph, Billy and Poncho in tow ten years later:

youtube

But at age 14 I never really understood Ragged Glory. It's not an album for teenagers. Metaphors such as, "like a little girl, who couldn't wait" only made sense when I had a daughter of my own, finally asleep at 2am on Christmas eve. It was in moments like that when I wanted to chug a cold one and high step my way around the kitchen, listening to Ragged Glory on headphones. Over and over again...

But I started unlocking the record years before, late in high school. My buddy Matt, a MIT-bound, state champion wrestler in the 150 pound class when he should have weighed an easy 180, was the only person I knew on earth who was as gnarly as Young's soloing on Truckin' Up. And Matt spoke up at lunch one day, when we were probably late for Physics, and told us the story of his 10 mile run the day before after 3 hours of push-ups and brawling on a mat.

Matt had listened to Ragged Glory on his walkman during that run and wanted to report that Forking Up was the greatest song ever written. It was even better, he claimed, that his other favorite Neil song, Homegrown.

I was really into TS Eliot and The Pixies at that point; so he sounded full of crap. But as I listened to him recite Neil's nonsensical, bone-headed lyrics my future self reached out to me and ordered that I sit up and listen; Matt had a point.

Dogs that lick And dogs that bite Hounds that howl Through the night Broken leashes Are all over the floor Keys left hanging In a swinging door.

Amen, Matt. The world is nonsensical and bone-headed. As the great Bob Pollard once warbled, sometimes you need to slay the beast and win the cup. Sometimes you need to fook things up and then scream about it.

There's a lot more to say about Ragged Glory but I'll pause here: happily, Young put out a new extended version of the record, aptly titled Smell the Horse, recently. Writing about it will make some future Sunday Shakey all over again.

#Youtube #neil young #and crazy horse #shakey sundays #stephen stills sucks

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