#and then I went off the rails with how much I love Tommy’s character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ramzawrites · 4 years ago

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can i request an angsty sbi fic where sibling reader lost two lives saving others (maybe tubbo at the festival?) and they see everything falling apart (techno and phil destroying everything, wilbur dead and tommy focused on the disks) and they pretend to be ok while their mental health gets worse and worse until they decide to end it, and people only realise they weren't okay after the death message pops up and their reactions to seeing it? if not thats completely fine, ik its pretty heavy

Broken

Pairings: none

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Philza, Tubbo, Technoblade

Warnings: depression, suicide (falling, non descriptive), angst

Series: a request!

Summary: Y/N just wanted their home back. They just wanted to live a peaceful life but instead all their hopes and dreams got ripped apart by the people they loved the most.

Words count: 3647

Authors Note: Honestly I could have shortened it quite a bit but here we are, it’s way longer than I wanted but I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry if this went kind off of rails to what you might have envisioned. Also I hope that you guys know that you are loved and appreciated. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my stuff :] Here is m favorite video to cheer me up some times, hope it can cheer you up as well!

I’m also curious what your guys thoughts and opinion are on this or my writing in general! Can’t get better without feedback :]

Y/N loved their family.

They were all pretty chaotic but so was Y/N, following their siblings into trouble ignoring any possible consequences.

So when Wilbur proclaimed he would create an independent Nation inside the SMP that was owned by Dream himself, you bet that Y/N was standing right beside him.

When Wilbur would struggle with his tasks or was weighed down by doubts they would swoop right in and do their best to support him. Every time Wilbur would say “I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” While Y/N didn’t do it for praise but out of love for him it was still nice knowing that he appreciated them and that he took note of their work.

Tommy wasn’t really for heartfelt words but he too expressed in his own way how much he appreciated them being around. Most of his schemes wouldn’t have even happened without Y/N’s help after all. As a way to say thanks he would let them just take stuff fout his chets or when he heard they needed a specific resource he would wander out and get it for them. Of course saying something on the lines of “I was out there anyhow, so I brought some with me. It was on the way.” Y/N could read between the lines though. They grew up with him after all.

Y/N put so much energy into L’Manberg they couldn’t help but be in love with this little nation. They would do everything to protect their home.

When Y/N lost their first life it was together with their siblings protecting their nephew Fundy.

The Dream Team suddenly retreated after another battle against L’Manberg. While the group was celebrating what they thought was their first victory in ages, Eret appeared. She told the group of a small bunker with more resources.

Still celebrating Wilbur, Y/N, Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy made their way towards the bunker. The bunker that would later go down into history as “The Final Control Room.”

Inside they all looked at the labeled chests only to notice that they were empty. Eret then pressed a button which opened up secret walls with the Dream Team standing behind. She herself got into safety as Dream and his friends merciless attacked the L’Manberg faction.

As soon as Y/N understood what was happening they did their best to form a wall between the attackers and Fundy. Slowly pushing him out of the room while they made sure to block the exit, giving the Fox Hybrid enough time to run away.

When they woke up again it was inside their home. In L’Manberg. Sore from the respawning.

Once they did respawn though it didn’t take long for Fundy to barge into their room and throw himself against them, thanking them. Wilbur was close by, looking worse for wear as well but incredible thankful nonetheless.

After that and a few battles more Tommy challenged Dream to a duel in order to secure independence. He lost so instead he bartered his music discs for freedom.

After Tommy respawned a second time Y/N made sure to spent most of their time hovering around him. Making sure he was doing alright.

But with that L’Manberg was independent and it was Y/N’s time to shine. Sure, they worked hard on strengthening the infrastructure of the nation but now, maybe even because of that, they basically coordinated all the new builds.

Shops, homes and other things were being build with them overseeing it. Meanwhile Wilbur and Tommy took care of the political part only to come to the conclusion that they had to have a proper election.

At first it started innocently enough as well. New political parties were made that begun advertising themselves. Funny enough they would always come to Y/N asking them where they could hang up their posters. It was then that Y/N realized that the people saw them as some sort of authority, even asking them if they wanted to start their own campaign. They politely declined, saying they worked best as a support role.

Then Schlatt entered the stage and everything got thrown upside down.

In the end he managed to become the next president via a coalition and his first declaration as the president, or emperor as he called himself, was to exile Tommy and Wilbur.

As they ran for their life Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow. It hurt them so much to leave L’Manberg, their fruit and labor, behind. This only got worse once they realized that Tubbo was basically left alone back at the city under Schlatt’s rule.

Then Pogtopia got established.

Tommy, Wilbur and Y/N did their best to get a proper foothold again. Gathering resources and planning for ways to get their home back. And to accomplish this they soon called in the oldest sibling of the group, Technoblade.

Techno has been away for the longest time now. He moved out early to travel the world and apparently train himself. Somehow Tommy found a way to get a message to him, so he made his way towards Pogtopia.

He wasn’t big on words or emotions but as soon as he arrived he let Y/N hug him.

“This is a onetime deal, Y/N.”

With Techno they finally felt like they had a chance. Y/N could maybe return home someday. Back when they were children Techno always looked out for them so to have him back Y/N felt infinitely safer.

All the while Wilbur showed more and more signs that his mental health was rapidly declining. Y/N did their best trying to cheer him up but there was only so much they could do. Especially since they themself were struggling.

L’Manberg was their everything and now it was under the iron rule of Schlatt. They had to watch as Schlatt walked through the nation, ripping apart builds that they commissioned or even built themself. Every time he did something like that it felt like another stab wound directly into their heart.

Then the festival happened where Y/N lost their second life protecting Tubbo.

Schlatt wanted to apparently celebrate democracy and his amazing rule. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t allowed to join while Techno and Y/N received an invitation.

Y/N was very wary of that. They learned from Tubbo that Schlatt apparently was pretty interested in bringing them over to Manberg since a lot of the residents trusted them and saw them more as an authority than Schlatt himself, so bringing them over would probably also bring a lot of the residents around to his rule.

On the day of the festival Y/N made sure to stay close to Techno. Holding on to his arm and basically hiding behind him, not feeling up to talk with all the people in Manberg.

The people were happy to see them but Y/N was tired. They haven’t slept properly ever since the exile, too many thoughts that kept them awake.

Then the speeches started.

Honestly Y/N wasn’t really listening, their attention purely on a broken old building. It used to be the place where Y/N and the other residents would meet up and map out their plans for new builds. Discussing and even sometimes arguing on what materials should be used and where to get them. Now it was empty.

Their attention got pulled back towards what was actually happening once Tubbo begun speaking. It was a nice little speech Y/N had to admit.

Just as Tubbo was about to leave, Schlatt moved back in. Holding him in place and pushing him in something that Y/N had to describe as a cage with the help of Quackity.

“Techno, buddy. Come up here for a sec.”

Technoblade tensed up but still moved towards the stage. There Schlatt uttered the words that pulled the rug out from beneath Y/N once again.

“Kill him Techno. He is a traitor.”

“Don’t you dare!” Y/N yelled out, making their way towards the stage as well.

Y/N knew Techno couldn’t deal well with social pressure, especially when there were about ten people or more behind him that could attack him at any point.

Tubbo looked so scared as he pressed himself against the wall. There was no escape for him.

When Techno moved his crossbow up, aiming directly at Tubbo, Y/N let out another scream. Urging him to stop.

Explosions. Colorful explosions filled the place.

“Y/N!” it was Tubbo screaming their name out.

Just as Techno pressed the trigger Y/N managed to jump in front, the rockets hitting them instead of Tubbo.

Their older brother looked absolutely mortified “Y/N? Wha- What? Why? How?” staring at Y/N’s lifeless body that slowly dissolved. They were slowly respawning but seeing his siblings body was enough to send him in some sort of frenzy.

Filled with bloodlust he aimed his crossbow towards Schlatt and Quackity. Killing them with one press of the trigger only to turn around and aim his crossbow towards the people.

As this happened Tommy enderpearled over, screaming at Techno.

He helped Tubbo out of the cage who was still in a state of shock. He only saw Y/N for a second and the next they were laying on the ground in their own blood.

Y/N heard the details later after they respawned. Tommy had apparently been incredibly angry at Techno, even attacking him. Wilbur then offered that the two deal with their argument via a fistfight inside a pit.

Normally Y/N would have yelled at Wilbur for that. Would have told him that this was his dumbest idea yet but they were too shook from what had happened to them.

Technoblade always spelled safety to them but he killed them. Sure, he meant to kill Tubbo but that didn’t really make it any better. They gave him an out, they would have helped fighting off all these people so they could flee.

The next time they saw Techno they flinched every time he got too close to them and yet they still put on a smile “Never, do this again.”

Techno only nodded.

After this downward slope the momentum didn’t seem to stop for them. Wilbur dropped even more and more off. Falling victim to his paranoia. Y/N tried their best convincing him to not blow up Manberg, that they will fight to gain it back. At this point trying to gain back their L’Manberg was the only thing they could hold on to.

Though all that work was for nothing.

The war to take back L’Manberg went way differently than they all had imagined. Y/N fought with a viciousness most didn’t think they had it in them. This was the day for them to finally regain what they had wished for, for the longest time now.

Everything came to a halt once Dream surrendered. He showed them Schlatt who was sitting in the Carmavan. Drunk off his mind he yelled and screamed at people only to die of a heart attack which meant that the Pogtopia faction won.

The people begun cheering, they had their home back! They were free! Y/N was probably the loudest by far. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. All this hardship and they could finally return to working with the others and rebuild L’Manberg. Return it to its former glory.

Tubbo got appointed President and Y/N was happy with it. Tubbo had an eye for building and was a good person, with him they were sure they could do some amazing things.

Apparently Techno thought otherwise. Instead he pulled Soulsand out, holding onto the Wither skulls as a visible threat.

Y/N had somewhat forgiven Techno for what had happened. It was a stressful situation and they acknowledged it but seeing him there, threatening to kill all of them? That they knew they couldn’t forgive quite so easy. Especially since he made some sound points but it was their L’Manberg. The people didn’t like living under Schlatt’s rule, this wasn’t something that could be described simply as a coup. Technically he was right but only technically. There were so many things that came into play that could let you argue over that but Techno would have none of it. Yelling something about Tommy only wanting to be a hero.

When the first explosions rang Y/N thought it came from a Wither but Techno was still in the middle of putting the heads onto the structure.

When more explosions rang and the ground beneath their feet broke away, Y/N understood what had happened.

At some point Wilbur ran off and must have pressed the button. The button that set the TNT beneath the city ablaze, effectively destroying everything.

Y/N was too busy with finding hard ground again and then dealing with the Withers and Techno that they only noticed after the fighting ended, how broken the nation was now.

They had won. Why would Wilbur do this? He knew how much the nation meant to them and again, they had won, so there was no reason for blowing the place up!

And if that wasn’t enough to see how both their older brothers destroyed everything Y/N worked for, they also had to see how Philza, their father, stood next to the corpse of Wilbur. It felt like they lost everything.

They lost their trust in Technoblade.

They lost their hopes and dreams via Wilbur blowing up the freshly liberated L’Manberg.

They lost their trust in their own father who had slain his own son.

Y/N felt absolutely crushed. Family was so important to them and it was their own family that destroyed their hopes and dreams. They did everything for them and this is how they repaid them?

Once everything calmed down and Tubbo begun making plans on how to rebuild the nation, he immediately came to Y/N for help but they hesitated which worried him.

“Is everything okay? Usually you would have jumped on that offer, Y/N.”

Y/N put on a smile that didn’t seem to reach their eyes “Don’t worry Tubbo, of course I’ll help you. I’m just tired from what we have been through. I finally have time to take a breather and I think it all just crashed down on me.”

“Well if you ever need help you can talk to me.” It was an earnest offer that Y/N would never take advantage of.

Y/N mostly ignored Philza. He talked with them a few times and even explained what has happened but Y/N still made a wide berth around him. Seeing him just hammered back down the feeling of distrust and hurt. Their familial relationship took a hard hit from that point on.

With Ghostbur it was a weird situation as well. They enjoyed spending time with him but were also always incredibly sad around him. Ghostbur took notice of this and would always offer them to take some of his blue but Y/N declined every time.

“Don’t worry Ghostbur. Everything is still just fresh in my mind. I’ll be back to my old self in no time. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“Of course Y/N! You have always looked out for me, thank you.”

L’Manberg slowly took on a proper form again but it wasn’t the L’Manberg Y/N knew. It felt to them like they were standing on top of a grave. A grave for their dreams and it was getting hard, real hard, to walk through it every day seeing places where they know specific buildings should be standing. Buildings they build on their own only to be destroyed by their brothers doing.

Then Tubbo exiled Tommy and Y/N felt conflicted. They felt obligated to stay in L’Manberg since they were the main person people came to for builds but that was their brother. Their only brother they still trusted and felt a need to protect.

Instead of following him into exile they stayed in the city. Visiting Tommy whenever they could, noticing pretty fast that he was struggling hard with his situation and for once they didn’t feel strong enough to properly support him. Y/N tried their best but once they noticed they couldn’t reach him completely they gave up a tiny bit.

It reminded them too much of Wilbur.

So while they visited him and helped them where they could, they spent more and more time alone in their home only coming out for work and other necessary things like food. Soon it was normal to see them with ever present dark circles beneath their eyes.

Before Philza disappeared to join Techno, he would stop by Y/N’s home all the time.

“Have you eaten, yet?”

“Yes, dad. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

“I just haven’t seen you much lately and I got worried.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Hey, if you go out, please, can you tell Ghostbur to stop coming around to throw Blue inside my mailbox? He won’t listen to me but perhaps he will to you.” And they would always carry the same big smile on their face accompanied by empty eyes.

The only time their happiness reached their eyes again was when Tommy returned from his exile. They crashed into their younger sibling holding him close to them and muttering apologies. He pried them off, embarrassed by all of this.

This short bout of happiness was destroyed by Doomsday. Dream, Technoblade and Philza once again made sure to set L’Manberg ablaze.

The second time Y/N’s fruits and labor got completely annihilated by their family but still they had some hopes this time. They still had Tommy on their side they could just finally build a home somewhere else and live in peace but Tommy had other ideas. He had it in his mind to get his discs back and he would do anything for it.

So while Y/N tried to ground themself with new hopes and ideas, holding onto the only constant of what was important to them, that being Tommy, Tommy ignored them. He was too busy with his own things and the worst part was that Y/N couldn’t even fault him for it.

They understood how much these discs meant to him and that this was something that had to come to an end but with this they lost another, and possibly their last, anchor point.

Yet you could still see them running around with a smile, tending to every one and trying to help out the best they could.

Then suddenly they were gone. They just disappeared one day. The few people who took note of that took some time to look around but there was no sign as to where they left. Y/N didn’t take their armor with them nor any weapons or food.

< Y/N succumbed to despair and fell of a high place>

When every ones communicators rung out with this message the SMP fell quiet.

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was reading. This didn’t make any sense. Y/N was fine! They would talk with them and everything looked fine! This must have been a cruel joke from Dream somehow, right? This couldn’t be real. Why would Dream do this? This didn’t seem to make sense.

Exactly there was no sense in Dream doing this.

While Tommy was battling with his thoughts Tubbo came running over to him. Tears streamed down his face.

“What happened? Why did this happen? Where are they?”

Tommy was visibly shaking “I- I have no idea. I don’t know. They looked fine. I’m- I’m not sure. Tubbo-“

Tubbo just slammed into him, giving him a proper hug, trying his best to help Tommy through his rising panic. He lost another sibling and by Ender that hurt.

Meanwhile in the snowy Tundra both Philza and Techno were staring at their communicators as well.

Philza was pale. So pale it almost rivaled the snow around him.

Techno had his brows furrowed. For anyone who didn’t know him well enough he looked at best displeased with this situation but Philza could see the small details that told a different story. Him sucking his breath in as he read the message, hiding his quivering lip in his cloak. He was heartbroken.

Sure the two weren’t on good speaking terms but Y/N was still his younger sibling. He still loved them.

Philza felt similar. He acknowledged that he screwed up and honored their wish to be left alone by him but he never imagined this could lead to their death. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Two of his children died, one directly by his hand and the other due to his inaction.

His eyes glossed over, the world became a blur and yet he continued rereading this message over and over. Y/N just lost their last life.

Philza could hear Techno walk closer to him and sat down on the ground as well.

“Y/N is-“ Philza begun but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. State the obvious to his eldest son?

“I have more fault in this than you, dad. Don’t feel guilty.” His voice was uncharacteristically weak. Wavering as he spoke. He wanted to cheer Philza up but it was a weak attempt.

“What have we done.”

Ghostbur was at first confused when he read the message. It was like he couldn’t connect the dots but it slowly dawned on him what this meant.

“Oh my.” His usual happy demeanor was suddenly gone.

He touched his face and as he put his hands back down he saw how they were smeared with blue.

“Y/N is dead?”

His usual ghost behavior seemed to break a bit. It was like through the warped version of Wilbur that was called Ghostbur for a moment the true version of him came through again. And he was hurt. Devastated.

“I think I need to find the others.” He mumbled to himself, making his way towards his family. All the while he held onto the blue wool of Friend like a lifeline. Combing through it nervously. Blue continuing to spill from his eyes.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x reader #sbi #sleepy bois inc #ramza writes #Anonymous #anon request

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relaxxattack · 3 years ago

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hi im asking u this bc u seem to be bee duo enthusiast so

ive been calling c! beeduos relationship platonic because i thought that was what their cc’s said, and i thought they had said that they were uncomfortable with ppl shipping the characters. But ive seen a lot of posts that say their relationship is canonically romantic? and i absolutely do not want to come across as homophobic by watering down a mlm relationship to just friends because that happens so much in media so.

what is the canon state of their relationship / ur opinions on the platonic thibg

dont worry abt answering if u dont want to!! i see a lot of differing opinions and i trust yours :)

aw it’s totally fine, im flattered you asked me about this!

let me put it simply: it’s a whole mess, lol.

first im going to talk about what’s happened fandom-wide that caused differing opinions, and then i’ll explain my own opinion/interpretation. :]

(this got really fucking long im so sorry)

ranboo and tubbo initially proclaimed the relationship was romantic, specifically in argument with the wiki editors who had set it as platonic by default. (you can see this in the vod where they decide they’re canonically married— it’s very funny. chat tells them the marriage is already on the wiki, they check, tubbo is jokingly offended that it says platonic and asks if he needs to up the romance).

tubbo also makes jokes about adultry, which sort of implies the relationship is not necessarily a platonic one.

(theres definetly more in that stream alone but it’s been a long time since i watched it so i don’t remember a lot of it.)

the wiki, because of this, suffers from going back and forth on platonic and romantic, seemingly unsure where the joke ends and the canon begins, or if its canonically a joke! a mess, as you can already tell.

this gets more complicated as the marriage bit goes on: outsiders, such as phil and scott, both at one point say “platonic marriage”, which then ranboo and tubbo agree with. however, when chat asks them if they’re platonic, they say the opposite. so there is a lot of confusion there.

there’s also the difficulty of being able to tell streamers and characters apart. ranboo and tubbo both don’t like being shipped irl, and that’s their boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. (they’re also minors, but tbh when they’re 18 in a year i will still be following their boundaries regardless of their legal age).

due to people not wanting to be accused of minor shipping, they started adding the platonic tone indicator to most of their drawings— basically a way of saying “no homo”. meanwhile, tubbo frequently on stream flirts with ranboo and makes quite a bit of nsfw comments towards him that are frankly hilarious.

this goes on for a while with nobody really sure what’s canon, but a lot of people assuming it’s probably platonic, until: the drama of the mods night. a few mods dmed all the wiki editors telling them ranboo wanted his canon character relationship officially set to platonic.

unfortunately for those mods; the very same day, a few hours later, ranboo on stream makes fun of puffy delivering him and tubbo “friendship flowers”. because, and i quote, “bruh. we’re literally married. this must be how the ancient greeks felt.”

in case you don’t know, the internet often jokes about how historians will call ancient greeks ‘very good friends’ when they are quite obviously gay. so in this context, ranboo is joking that people will call him and c!tubbo, who are married, “close friends”, when he doesn’t think they are.

basically, ranboo canonized romantic bee duo, the very same day the mods told everyone he’d wanted a platonic one.

chaos and drama immediately erupted everywhere. on tumblr, we were talking about how weird it was of his mods to do something like that without asking him first. we ALSO talked about how weird it was of them to assume that ranboo can’t make his own decisions, or assume teenagers cannot be in relationships without it being sexual. twitter did the same thing but in the opposite direction: called ranboo mods homophobic, or said they were mad ranboo felt pressured into making a romantic relationship canon ‘just so people could have mlm rep.’

i dont want to go into detail about the drama that happened that night because apparently official people follow me and i dont want to stir it up or have them come “clarify” things. im just saying what we talked about.

ranboo in typical ranboo fashion apologized quickly and seriously. he was deeply sorry for possibly offending anyone with how he’d portrayed his rp relationship with tubbo, and he also assured everyone the mod thing was just a miscommunication.

he said he would talk to tubbo and they’d decide once and for all whether it was platonic or romantic, and then announce so everyone would know.

it’s now been a few months and we've had no word from them on that development. we still have no clue.

now, here’s my opinion:

i want to take ranboos word for it that it was a miscommunication with his mods, but... we had it on good authority from people on the wiki team and people in the discord with the mods that (while it was happening) they were really going after the wiki admins, and also made some weird comments about it. that combined with the way ranboo seemingly had no clue (considering he canonized their romance that very same day).... it’s very. sus of the mods.

then there’s the canon we’ve got since then. although occasionally adults in the room have called it a “platonic marriage” and tubbo once (back when it first started) called it a “plankton tectonic” marriage, in roleplay it’s been... kind of not that. tubbo and ranboo make nsfw jokes about each other in character, and their characters also share a master bedroom and bed in the mansion. there's also the way c!tommy really thinks it’s a romance between them as well, and they agree with and play off that— for instance confirming that they “fell in love” when he asked, or ranboo confirming that they “make out on occasion”.

people will still put platonic on their art and posts, imo, because they’re worried about breaking ranboo and tubbo’s irl boundaries by looking like they ship them. or even just being accused of shipping real life minors. and that’s a valid fear to have.

the thing is though: c!bee duo are not cc!bee duo. they’re roleplay characters. cc!bee duo are not okay with being shipped, but they made their characters get canonically married, and call each other “husbands”. so it’s okay to write the word “husband” in your comic without adding “platonic” to it, i promise.

telling the ccs that their characters have to be platonic is... weird. it comes off as not only babying them, but also as saying teens can’t date without it being gross. which isn’t true.

(this is why seeing people overuse “platonic husband” so much bothers me. like, they ARE husbands. you can just say it. what are you trying to hide...?)

do i think they’re canonically romantic? ehh, its likely. it’s still okay to interpret them as platonic, because again, it’s hard to tell where jokes end and roleplay begins. like, maybe it’s jokes in the rp too, and c!bee duo are just friends. friends can and should be allowed to make jokes like that with each other! aro & ace marriages exist!

or, maybe it’s actually part of the rp, and they’re very much romantic. we don’t know!

some people say they could be a qpr (queerplatonic romance), which i could see. (a qpr is a relationship that fluctuates between, or can’t quite be sorted into, “romantic” and “platonic”. people in a qpr can do romantic things while having platonic feelings for each other). in my opinion this is a very valid interpretation as well!

CONCLUSION (sorry this got so long omfg):

are c!bee duo romantic?

its likely, but you can still interpret them however you like!

should i put /p on bee duo content?

ehhh? i find it annoying when it’s overused (as do others), but if you’re worried you can. its up to preference. putting it too much is weird though

should i put /p on things cc! bee duo do?

no. you’re not the one saying it so you can’t decide the tone tags for that. imagine you said something to your friend and a random stranger came up and was like “haha but that was /p right...?”

can i ship c!bee duo?

mmm. i’m not sure on this one. they are canonically married and very flirtatious, but the ccs don’t like being shipped and they’re close enough to being the ccs that actively shipping might be against boundaries.

can i treat c!bee duo as romantic?

yes. literally just don’t be weird about it. it’s not that hard! you can understand that two characters are husbands without making it weird

here’s the most important thing: boundaries. cc bee duo still haven’t told us what their preferences and canon is about this whole thing.

right now, i am assuming based on what they already show us they’re comfortable with, but! the second they give us any more info! all these opinions will change!

i am only going off what they do. i would never want to cross boundaries at all. i just wish they would make theirs a little more clear.

..... i hope that helped anon, i went way off the rails... i need to go to sleep.

#it’s late im so sorry for how much i rambled and wrote #i hope this helps you #bee duo #og post #there’s probably so many spelling errors i need to go to bed #i tried to fix some spelling so reblog this one ig #and not the old one

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teddy06writes · 3 years ago

Text

A Thousand Little Moments (That Help Me Heal)

Requested by @alphamoonlunala9391 "Can you do more parts of What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better please and maybe make the character a god hybrid reader"

and sort of @noctis-yeye

This is the Part three of You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now and What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better

Quackity x reader; Past mentioned Sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, existentialism? kind of? (Charlie being like, 'everything turns to dust so whats the point')

premise: it's like i said in the part two, its just gonna be a bunch of little scenes that happen in the two year gap, plus the wedding that would then happen at the end of part two for the last scene (no I don't really know how proper weddings go, all the ones i've been too were ~weird~ soooo...)

{to the asker who actually went in my inbox to request, I can't make reader a hybrid because its too late in the series to really change it}

{snowchester las nevadas conflict- we don't know her}

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"(y/n) from Las Nevadas?"

You glanced up from your work to find Charlie at your office door, "Yeah Charlie?"

"This place 'ill be around a while right? No- no explosions like L'manburg?" He slid into the room and dropped into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

You frowned, "How do you know about L'manburg?"

"I told you- I move slow, but I've seen a lot. L'manburg was nice- but then it was gone."

You sighed, "I know... I was there- all three times. L'manburg was my home before Las Nevadas."

"If you and Quackity from Las Nevadas want me to stay here- which it sounds like you do, I want to know: Las Nevadas will be around for a while, right? I don't want it to go to dust like everything else does."

"As much as we can help it Charlie," You glanced down at your desk, "I'm not gonna let another home get destroyed."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you made it to the top of the needle.

Purpled was still sitting near the edge of the deck where he'd stayed after you'd finished the tour. It seemed the only difference now, was that behind him the sky was dark, and speckled with stars.

"You got room for company kid?" You asked quietly.

He nodded, and you quickly moved to sit next to him, "So what do you think of the place?"

"'s alright." He mumbled.

"Charlie wasn't enough to scare you off?" You chuckled.

He shook his head, "Nah... Where did you find that guy?"

"Sneakin around one of the restaurants." You laughed.

"He's insane."

"Yeah no, probably." You sighed.

Purpled got quiet again, turning to look back out over the city, "Why'd you offer me a spot here? You said it wasn't a job, so why actually offer it to me?"

You frowned, thinking for a moment, "I guess- ever since L'manburg- I don't want to see anyone else suffering on this server, especially not any more of you kids. You deserve to have a place, and people looking out for you Purpled."

"You keep saying that- but why here? How come you two are the only ones that say that?" He snapped.

Shifting to lean against the railing, you sighed again, "Did you hear about Kinoko Kingdom, when it was founded?"

"Yeah. Karl, Sapnap and George did that, didn't they?"

You nodded, "You know we were supposed to marry Sap and Karl once, Quackity and I."

"Really?" He scoffed.

"Really. Cause we'd been dating, and they'd been dating, and then Karl started hitting on Quackity, and in retaliation Sapnap was hitting on me- anyway, it felt perfect and shit right?"

"Mhhhm."

"Well then one day, right before doomsday, Karl up and disappears, and of course we're worried, but there's a war on. So once its all over, Q was devastated, cause everything he built in El Rapids was gone. He'd always wanted to just make a place for us. He disappeared too.

"Sapnap and I split up to look for them, and planned to meet up here. But- they never turned up. One day we come to find out, they went and started there own place-" You stopped, clearing your throat, and shaking your head, "They abandoned us. I don't want anyone else getting abandoned. This server tried to abandon you Purp, but I'm not gonna let them."

When you looked back over at him, there was a small smile on his face, "...Thank you..."

"(y/n)! Guess who showed up today!"

You chuckled as you looked up to find Quackity leading Fundy toward where you sat at one of the tables under the needle with Charlie, "Fundy! It's so good to see you!"

"Hey (y/n)!" He smiled.

"Hello Fundy From L'manburg!" Charlie greeted excitedly.

Fundy's smile seemed to droop, "How did you know that...?"

"He knows a lot more than most people think," You said apologetically, "Anyway, how have you been?"

"Pretty alright, pretty alright." He nodded, sitting down at one of the open seats as Quackity plopped down next to you.

"That's good. It's good to see you're doing better!"

He nodded, "How have things been going over here?"

"Pretty good," Quackity grinned, "It'll be great to have another official partner on property. So far the only big one we've got living here is Purpled."

"You got Purpled to come here? Wow." Fundy chuckled.

You smiled, "Yeah, I think he's starting construction on a new UFO soon. You got any big plans for being here?"

"I'm not sure yet- but I'll figure it out," He smiled, "I've got a feeling that this place will be better than L'manburg ever could have been."

~~ "Babe, I made breakfast!"

You yawned, slowly sitting up at Quackity's call, "What kind of breakfast?"

"Pancakes!"

"And Purpled From Las Nevadas taught me to make the orange juice!" Charlie exclaimed from the kitchen.

You chuckled, getting up and tugging down the sleeves of one of Quackity's long since stolen hoodies.

Out in the kitchen, Charlie was setting a pitcher of orange juice on the table as Purpled set out plates, and Fundy dug around in a cabinet looking for syrup.

You moved over to where Quackity was flipping the last of the pancakes, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Good morning."

"Good morning babe." He chuckled.

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, ignoring the overly exaggerated gaging noise Purpled made, "Keep it to yourself!"

"Keep what to myself Purpled from UFO?" Charlie asked.

"Not you idiot!" You could hear the eye roll in his voice.

Fundy laughed, sitting up and banging his head on the cabinet.

You smiled into Quackity's back, listening to the half chaos behind you happily.

~~ "Hey Ranboo!" You greeted cheerfully as he entered the office, "What brings you here?"

"Hi (y/n), I just wanted to ask you something."

"Mhhm." You nodded as he sat down.

"Well it's Tubbo and Tommy, I'm trying to help them with all the L'manburg Schlatt, Wilbur, stuff-" He broke off with a sigh, "I just don't know what I'm doing. They need help but- I don't even know how to deal with my own issues."

You frowned, "Is it nightmares? About the festival?- or Tommy's exile?"

"Yeah... how did you guess that?"

"I know a thing or two about nightmares," You sighed, "they don't really go away like that. You aren't doing anything wrong by not knowing what to do."

Ranboo stared down at his hands, "I just feel like I should be helping them more."

"You know what helped everyone around here? Creating a home- having a place or people, that helped Fundy and Purpled, and kind of Charlie? I still don't know his deal- Anyway! just be there for them, hell, bring them here, we'll all be here for you guys."

He looked up suddenly, "Why would you guys be- why would you offer us that? We're not in your allegiance."

"I know. But I don't think any of you kids deserve what this server gives you. Bring them here or not, you all have a place here if you want it." You assured him.

"Really?"

"Of course."

~~ "AYYYY Big Q!"

Tommy's yell cut through the semi loud sounds of the crowded apartment.

"Tommy! You came!" Quackity exclaimed, "Hey Tubbo! Hey Ranboo! And is that Michael?"

The piglin squealed, running past him into the apartment, toward Purpled's dog.

He laughed, "Well, come in guys, Fundy's getting the movie thing ready, and Purp and Charlie are getting snacks and things."

Ranboo followed Tommy and Tubbo into the room as Charlie came from the kitchen, carrying the bowel of chips Purpled had told him to bring out, "Hey! It's Tubbo Underscore Beloved From Snowchester! And Ranboo Beloved Underscore From {redacted}! And Tomathy Careful Danger Kraken Innit from L'manburg!"

Purpled, who'd stopped in the kitchen doorway, "Did he just make a bleeped out fucking noise with his mouth?"

"Yeah- yeah no he did." Fundy confirmed.

"Your middle name is Kraken?" You asked, shuffling out with a stack of blankets.

Tommy nodded, "Yup."

You laughed, "That's- kind of ridiculous, why would Philza saddle you with that?"

"Well 'es not my dad is 'e?" Tommy scoffed.

"Wait seriously?" Quackity asked.

Tubbo laughed, "You really thought...?"

You shook your head, "Whatever... Fundy what's the status on that movie?"

"I'm almost done." He reported.

"Right, everyone get comfortable then." You said, dropping the pile of blankets you had been carrying.

Quackity plopped down onto the couch, pulling you to sit with him as Tubbo and Ranboo began to make a nest of blankets between the arm chair where Purpled sat and the couch.

Charlie passed around snacks and Fundy finished setting up the projector as the move began.

~~ You sighed, turning and pressing your face into Quackity's shoulder, "Thank you."

It had been a week since Karl and Sapnap had left Las Nevadas, and your fiancé had insisted that you take time off of managing things.

"For what baby?" He asked softly.

"Everything. I love you."

"I love you too." He murmured.

You smiled softly, looking up at him, "How long until that wedding?"

~~ "You ready?" Charlie asked.

You turned to him, looking up from the paper on which you'd written your vows, "Yeah... I think so."

He grinned, "Let's go then!"

You nodded as he looped his arm through yours and you started toward the doorway.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Las Nevadas!" He announced, "Here we go!"

You chuckled as you started down the isle with him, grinning at Quackity, who stood, looking already close to tears.

Purpled, Fundy, Sam, Tubbo, Tommy and Michael stood in various places around the alter, Foolish glancing down at the book he held open.

As you reached the alter, he started, "Dear people, we are gathered here today to witness the sort of? holy matrimony of (y/n) (y/l/n) and Alex Quackity. If anyone here has any objections to this union speak now, or hold your peace."

There was a silence, Michaels tiny snort being the only sound before Foolish continued, "This journey, which you have started together, will continue on now, as you walk, side by side, step by step, together, now joined in such a way that you can't really get rid of each other without a divorce."

Laughs and chuckles filled the wedding hall as Quackity shook his head, "Nope, you're stuck with me babe."

You laughed, "Good."

"Now, would you recite your vows?"

You pulled the paper from your pocket, "I'm going first. So, ever since we started seeing each other, we thought it would be you and me forever. Even after everything we went through, and even after Sapnap and Karl, its still you and me. I would say that its just you and me, but," You looked around at everyone,

"It's not just you and me, it's you and me and these guys. When we started this place, I knew that it would be difficult, especially with all the hurt that the SMP caused us. But, even as I was helping everyone here heal, you were helping me. Because you helped me find this family, and you- you gave me a thousand little moments that made me feel again.

A thousand moments that helped me heal."

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #quackity x reader #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #teddy06 #teddy 06 #teddy06 writes #teddy 06 writes

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juliasjustanidiot · 3 years ago

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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀 | cc!wilbur soot

the words of ray simmons - cc!wilbur soot x reader

synopsis: you, tommy, and your boyfriend wilbur were to identify the ghost and get out of there. however, some things went a bit off the rails.

tw: slight gore, character death, swearing, uhh horrific themes and a slight anxiety/panic attack.

word count: 3.2K

bonus: this has a lot of platonic mr. tommyinnit content :)

the shrilling sound of screaming from yourself and the young boy behind you rang in your ears as your heartbeat raced with such an intensity you swore your heart was going to combust. the two of you were running as fast as you could down the hallway of the second floor of a suburban home, rushing to get to the stairs and out the front door.

“i can’t die now, i have wives to please!” tommy shouted from behind you, a figure chasing the two of you. you didn’t dare turn around and face it.

“it’s ok, tommy! i have jesus!” you said pulling out a crucifix from your pocket, sticking it in front of you as you ran. the flashlights you two were holding flickered, telling you the ghost was still chasing you relentlessly.

“why didn’t you place it earlier?!” tommy shouted at you as the two of you ran. “you could’ve prevented this thing from hunting us in the first place!”

“i’m sorry, tommy! i didn’t realize that this was all my fault!” you shouted back sarcastically.

“wilbur! wilbur!” tommy called as you both ran around the kitchen with the ghost still chasing you. it was no use, wilbur wouldn’t be able to hear him. at least not until the ghost gave up and the hunt ended. then the radios would begin to work again with the ghost not blocking the frequencies any longer.

this was only tommy’s third ghost hunt and his first time being hunted. to say he was panicking was an understatement.

as your boyfriend sat perfectly safe in the van, you and tommy were forced to run like mad lads around a living room with every exit locked.

you turned the corner finding yourselves in a hallway with doors. you two quickly got to the furthest room and opened it, hurrying in.

shutting the door behind you, you held it closed with your body weight while tommy breathed heavily, shaken up.

a few minutes passed with the two of you like this when finally your flashlights came back on normally and your heartbeat began to normalize, the adrenaline leaving your body.

tommy stopped, flicked the switch on the wall, and turned on the light in what seemed to be a child’s bedroom. a sigh released from his lips, “the wives will be pleased.”

as you let out a small laugh, you could hear over your walky-talky the voice of your boyfriend, wilbur soot from the van. “y/n? tommy? are you guys good?” he asked.

“we’re fine. this thing will hunt in groups, apparently. it doesn’t target specific people it seems.” you informed him, letting him know that the creature was in fact dangerous.

you and tommy exited the room, making your way outside, heading back to find wilbur.

wilbur clicked his tongue. “yeah, as soon as you guys entered the room of the ghost, ghost activity spiked.” he mentioned. “during the hunt, ghost activity went off the charts.”

“yeah, that’s what happens during hunts, wil.” tommy said, matter-of-factly as if he knew so much about ghost hunting and yet he was still a newbie.

“shut up, dickhead.” wilbur responded, a small giggle released from your mouth. you shook your head with a soft smile. there was the brotherly bickering between the two that everyone knew and loved.

“how’s our sanity looking, wil?” you said as you headed out the door of the haunted house, tommy behind you. you decided it was best to get back on track if you wanted to get this job done as soon as possible.

“sanity is looking fine for right now, tommy’s is a little lower than yours, love. which explains a lot, really,” he said, egging tommy on.

tommy was quick to respond as soon as you two entered the van. “oh shut up, you big fuckin-“

you turned around to stare at tommy with a small glare. he closed his mouth slowly, taking the hint.

wilbur passed the two of you, walking to the equipment, picking up an emf reader. “i’ll go in with the emf. it’s the upstairs bathroom, right?”

you nodded in confirmation. “right. be careful, wil. this thing is vicious.” he nodded, putting on a headcam similar to the one you were wearing so anyone could watch from the van.

“actually, tommy, why don’t you stay here? i’ll go with wil to place down the book so we can check for ghost writing.” you suggested, turning your head to look at the blonde-haired teen.

“what? why?” he protested. “i can go too!” he spread his arms, looking at you like a child that had just been rejected- which was exactly what he was. “i’m a big man, y/n! tell them wil!” he looked to wilbur expectantly.

wilbur turned to him, looking him up and down, wrinkling up his nose and shaking his head. “no.”

pointing to a monitor on the wall, you showed tommy his sanity percentage projecting on the large screen. “your sanity is gonna drop every second you step foot in there. mine’s a little higher than yours. it only makes sense that i go in before you so that you don’t lose too much. plus, this is still only your second time doing this. something could easily go wrong.”

“third.”

“plus,” wilbur chimed in, stopping for a moment. “we wouldn’t want the wives to be upset if we lost you.” you turned, grabbing the journal from one of the supply shelves and let out a small laugh. he put an around arm your shoulder, leaning some of his weight onto you.

“pft, yeah. exactly.” you agreed, lifting your head to flash wilbur a smile. he looked to you and gave you a similar one, his brown eyes staring into your own.

tommy watched from where he stood as the two of you did your weird “couple thing” while you both made fun of the boy. his eyes narrowed and his whole face scrunched as he let out a groan. “uuugggh. you two are disgusting!”

“oh, tommy.” wilbur sighed. “still so much to learn.” he released you and exited the van with you following him.

“we’d better get this job done quickly. this ghost is only going to get angrier.” you mentioned, finally getting back to business.

“yeah, well, tell that to the innit man himself. he’s the one who kept getting sidetracked.” wilbur mumbled as you entered the family home’s entrance, turning on your flashlights so you could see where you were going.

“wil, don’t bully the kid, he’s still getting a hang of things. and it isn’t just him that’s getting sidetracked.”

“wilbur? y/n? wilbuuuur.” as if on cue, the voice of a teenager rang through your ears on your walkie-talkies.

with a groan, wilbur grabbed the small device and clicked it on. “what, child?”

“the ghost’s name is ray simmons,” he said loudly, making your ears hurt.

“jesus, tommy, back up from the microphone,” you complained, turning the corner and heading up the stairs of the home.

“is this good?” his voice was only louder making your ears hurt even more. you’ve never wanted to hit a child more than now.

“alright, bye tommy.” you grumbled and shut off your device. “how did you meet this kid again?” you asked wilbur who was trailing behind you. he only let out a chuckle after shrugging.

with a roll of your eyes, you opened the door of the ghost infested bathroom and placed the book on the sink. you waited for wilbur to scan the room for emf, letting him check everything.

“oh, here,” he said as he just remembered something, “look for fingerprints or something with the uv light.” he tossed the uv flashlight to you. you caught it swiftly and clicked it on, shutting off the lights in the room. you started with the door, finding nothing there. you then surveyed the rest of the room, again, finding nothing.

“nothing with the uv. let’s get out of the room for a bit and check the cams. then we can come back and look for writing.” you suggested as wilbur pocketed the emf reader.

tommy and yourself had already set up a camera in the corner of the bathroom to look for a ghost orb and checked for freezing temperatures upon your first time entering the room. you already knew it was freezing the minute you walked into the room, it literally felt like a freezer. but it didn't hurt to check and you were correct. the room was in fact below freezing.

“actually, i think we have our answer for ghost writing.” wilbur pointed to the book with his flashlight from where he stood, illuminating it, and revealing some odd drawings.

“well, quite the artist this one,” you muttered, staring at the strange demonic drawings. wilbur came up from behind you, getting a closer observation of the obscure drawings.

“we’ve got ghost writing, fingerprints. all we need is one more piece of evidence and we’ve got our ghost,” he said, moving to the door to exit. “let’s head back to the van and watch the cams.” with a nod, you followed him out, closing the door behind you two.

entering the van, you noticed something wrong.

“wilbur?” you called, turning your head to see wilbur still walking back.

“yeah?” he looked up to you.

“where the hell is tommy?”

“shit.” wilbur cursed under his breath, observing the inside of the van to find no sight of the teenager. picking up his communication device, he quickly clicked it on. “tommy?” he called.

after a few seconds, you finally got a response. “hi, wilbur!” the boy said, a bit of static also playing through the device.

“tommy? where the fuck are you?”

“i’m ghost hunting, wil!” he shouted into the comms.

you went into the computer and clicked the mouse to watch the camera you had set up in the room.

“no ghost orb.” you told wil. you watched as tommy entered the bathroom on the monitor. “tommy, get your ass out here.” you grabbed the walky-talky from wil’s hand and put it up to your own mouth.

“no can do, y/n! i’m talking to ray simmons currently.” he said to you.

“don’t say it’s name-“

“ray says to leave me alone. we’re talking!” if him and the ghost are talking, that could only mean that tommy was using the spirit box or the ouija board.

“fuck.” you thrusted the walky-talky into wilbur’s chest and walked over to the supply shelves picking up some sanity pills. you popped them into your mouth and swallowed them. stuffing some more into your pocket, you gathered a smudge stick and lighter in case things got a bit out of hand.

“y/n, what are you doing?” wilbur asked as he watched you equip all of your things. he stared at you with a curious look.

“i’m getting our wifehaver.” quickly, you turned on your heel and sped to the house.

“be careful, love!” he shouted to you, worried for your safety. however, he trusted you. you both had been in this job for a while. you knew what you were doing.

storming into the house, you quickly ran up the stairs to the ghost room and opened the door with great force. you found tommy sitting in the tub with the spirit box in hand.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you shouted at tommy, quickly grabbing the box from his hand.

tommy looked up to you, looking confused as hell. “what? i’m talking to ray simmons!” speedily, you clasped a hand over his mouth.

“don’t say the ghost’s name, idiot.” grabbing him by his arm, you pulled him up by his feet and made a beeline to the door. you shoved the sanity pills into his hand, forcing him to take them. “what did it say to you?” you asked, aggravated. he was so stupid, going in alone like that. he could’ve died.

“turns out mr. simmons is quite old! he was also telling me the letter ‘e’ quite often for some reason.”

lifting your walky-talky, you called for wilbur. “yeah?” you heard wil’s soft voice from your end.

“tommy managed to get our last piece of evidence. spirit box. it’s a demon.” you told him, making your way down the steps, tommy tagging along.

“if it’s a demon, it can start hunting at any moment. get out of there, now.” wilbur suggested. you of course already knew that. you didn’t want to stick around any longer than you had to. demons were always very aggressive.

“anything else that it said to you, tommy?” you asked him out of curiosity. as you got close to your escape, you felt a sense of relief. you now had all your evidence. the three of you could pack up and take your pay, and head home. the exterminators could do the rest.

“i think he said the word “ill”.” he shrugged it off. “or maybe it was “kill”? ray is a bit mental, aye?” immediately, you turned your head to tommy with a very troubled expression.

“what?”

as soon as the word had left your mouth, the door in front of you slammed shut. you let go of tommy and ran over to it, trying to open it with all your might.

“oh fuckin’ shitting hell.” you cursed aggressively. you grabbed tommy and pulled him next to you, keeping a protective stance with him behind you.

“wilbur?” you talked into your comms, seeing if you could get a hold of him at all. “wilbur?”

“y/n?” you could hardly make out due to the large amount of static and blockage in your communication. “get- there- now. huntin-“ you couldn’t understand him, but you knew he was telling you to get the hell out of there and you were definitely trying.

tommy shook your arm from behind you, confused and freaking out. “uhhmmm, y/n? y/n? what’s happened?”

“it’s hunting, tommy. you kept saying it’s name and now it’s angry.” you grumbled.

“yeah? well ray’s a pussy.” he argued.

“tommy, if you don’t shut the fuck-“

“aaaahhh!” tommy shouted, pointing in front of you. directing your gaze to the direction that tommy pointed in, your eyes widened at the thing you now were looking at. the adrenaline you had pent up earlier from the chase before now came rushing back.

there in front of you stood a tall man with his face completely drained of color and eyes that were so empty they sent a chill down your spine. his left arm was missing with a hunk of bone sticking out of his flesh and his clothes were completely torn up.

you grabbed tommy, shoved him in front of you and started bolting as the thing chased you.

“dammit, run, tommy!” sprinting, you two made a run for it through the kitchen, and into the dining area, circling around that area a couple times.

“leave us alone, bitch!” tommy shouted to the demon as he started running for the garage.

“tommy! no!” you cried to him, trying to stop him by grabbing his arm, but he was already entering the garage.

unfortunately, before you could warn tommy, the demon detected him and chased him in there where he would be completely cornered.

darting to the garage door, you grabbed the smudge stick and prepared to light it with the lighter you had taken in with you.

peeking in, you saw tommy in the far corner of the garage, there was no way he could escape from the demon in time to make it out alive. you had to do something and fast.

you motioned to light the smudge stick and jump in to save tommy, but with all the pressure and anxiety you were feeling, your hands fumbled and the lighter fell from your hands.

“fuck!” you hissed, picking it up swiftly.

an alarming scream hit your ears, forcing you to turn and look. you wish you hadn’t.

“shit, tommy!” you roared, rushing in no matter what danger there was.

entering the garage, you didn’t see the demon in sight. it seemed to have gone elsewhere, deciding it had done its job.

in the corner of the garage sat tommy, motionless and limp.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, repeated in your head as you ran over to his body, dropping the stick and lighter on the ground to touch tommy, trying to shake him awake. “tommy, come on.” you cried out as if he could hear you.

you heard rapid footsteps making their way towards you. grabbing the smudge stick and lighter, you flicked the lighter on, prepared.

bursting in was your boyfriend wilbur, out of breath and panting, searching for you. “y/n! i saw it on your headcam! what’s-“

once he caught sight of you, he let out a deep exhale and stopped in the middle of his sentence. but he could sense something was wrong. “y/n.” he breathed your name, walking over to you as you relaxed with the smudge stick and lighter.

“tommy. he’s-“ you fell apart, breaking into a state of just absolute panic and anxiety. shaking all over, your breathing was all over the place. you grabbed at your hair, tugging slightly to feel pressure on your skull. “fuck. he was- the demon- he’s dead.” you cried out.

wilbur grabbed your wrists tightly, forcing you to let go of your hair. “oh, love.” he sighed, pulling your body to him, placing your hands around his neck and burying your face in his chest while he buried his own into your hair, breathing in your scent.

the two of you stayed like this, your eyes never leaving tommy’s cold body. wilbur took notice of this and finally pulled away, grabbing your face, opting you to stare into his eyes. “hey. you’re ok. you did everything you could.” he told you, trying to reassure you. “you’re ok. yeah?”

you nodded your head, letting out a few shaky breaths. the both of you stood up and headed for the door.

“let’s get out of here.” wilbur put an around you, rubbing your shoulder gently, calming you down slowly.

entering the van, you both sighed. after that job, you knew things would be a bit different now. you would have to be more careful next time you took tommy ghost hunting.

“well, at least it was tommy and not you.” wilbur said with optimism. you turned to him giving him a small smile.

“yeah, but now he’s going to hold a grudge against me and try and get me killed all of next round.” you grumbled.

clicking a few keys on your keyboard, you marked the ghost type as a demon and started up the van, making your way back to the lobby.

there in the lobby, stood tommy’s character. immediately as he saw you two, he unmuted on discord and started shouting and cursing both of you out.

“you two are so fucking disgusting! while i died you two were doing your couple shit and making out through the game and all that disgusting shit!” he blasted into his microphone. “while my chat went ‘aww so cute!’ i was laying there dead and couldn’t do anything about it, you dickheads!”

you and wilbur couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “oh, tommy. we love playing phasmophobia with you too.”

(bonus) tommy’s pov:

as tommy watched in his ghostly form, y/n and wilbur’s characters stared at each, their heads completely inside each other’s, causing the game to combine them. with a disgusted tone, he huffed. “you motherfuckers.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

edited by @faithajo24.

taglist: @etheriaaly

#julia-moron #dream smp #dreamsmp #dsmp wilbur #wilbur x reader #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot #tommy x reader #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x y/n #wilbur soot x y/n #phasmophobia #ghost hunting #dsmp

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triggerthreestrikes · 4 years ago

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I need to get this all out Because it’s been bother me WAY too much. here’s some rants on 3/4 of the syndicate members. (The CHARACTERS. These are for the CHARACTERS!)

C!Nikki: I’ve wanted to talk about her and her irrational hatred for Tommy for quite some time. She projects everything negative about Wilbur onto him because she can’t FATHOM that her bestest fwend went off the rails and blew her home to hell. It must’ve been Tommy’s fault! Tommy drove him to it somehow! Tommy can’t leave the discs alone! It’s always Tommy’s fault somehow with her. And when she finally forced to confront her monstrous behavior with news that Tommy was BEATEN TO DEATH, she laughs it off. She got what she wanted! But he can’t REALLY be dead, I mean, to her he must be this undying PLAUGE on her life and the server. Someday I hope she gets shown a mirror to what the syndicate is: a secret police for a tyrant who destroys people who they don’t like. people who cannot fight back. The syndicate is what she has convinced herself Tommy is: A plague on the server.

C!Techno: words cannot describe how much I loathe this self righteous jackass. (Once again, Let’s be clear, this is the CHARACTER not the YOUTUBER. Yt!techno ily precious baby.) This pseudo intellectual psychopath has convinced himself that becoming a secret police and forcing your ideals on the very innocents you claim to protect seems awfully government like. “What would you need 2 nukes for self defense for?” motherfucker, YOU. He’s scared of YOU

C!Philza: Hate, let me tell you about how much I’ve come to hate you since the time of Doomsday. There are 387 hundred thousand miles of wafer thin circuit boards in the data center near my apartment, and if the word hate was engraved on every nanoangstrom of every one of those miles it would not equal one one billionth of the amount of hatred I feel for this piss poor father figure. (Love cc!Philza, kind soul too nice for this world.) This piece of garbage thinks that instead of giving guidance to the young, inexperienced president who asks you for it means set up a house and do Jack. Then get pissy when your best fwen (Committed war cwimes UWU) is hunted by the hurt and confused president. Solution? Blow the country to bedrock! And throw in killing the ghost of your son’s pet too! But don’t worry, because he’s not the ghost of your son, he’s just a “doll!” a “doll” WITH SENTIENCE AND A NEED FOR LOVE AND COMPANIONSHIP YOU SENILE WINGED BEAST. And oh poor you! Your grandson rummaged through your house looking for your WANTED MURDERER best friend. You are thousands of years old. why are you acting like you’re five. that is not a good reason to disown your grandson who just lost his father AND had his adoptive father MISS HIS ADOPTION. The best part is? When he comes to your doorstep looking to make amends? Your first instinct is kill on sight. News flash big bird relationships are a two way street. it is not fundy’s job to make amends to a grandfather that took him fishing once. You need to work with him. Don’t get me started on his recent interactions with TUBBO. “You’ve learned your lesson, you’ve really reformed.” motherfucker, what lesson?? that if you step out of line I’ll blow up everything you care about? That he should be afraid of you? This poor kid is afraid of EVERYONE outside of those living in snowchester and Tommy. (Ghostbur too but he’s harmless bb) And when he gets taken to meet a child that his adoptive son is raising, he almost gets his grandchild to kill his cousin.

#C!phil negativity #c!phil negativity #c!phil ultra negativity #c!nikki negativity #c!nikki critical #c!techno critical

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themonkeycabal · 4 years ago

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Wandavision Ep 6 Spoilers

No really, spoilers.

Previously on Wandavision — Wanda told SWORD to shove their drones right straight up their asses, Vision woke up to the reality that his utopian sitcom life was in fact a dystopian hellscape, their children were extremely creepy, and Agnes was being bizarre as hell and super sus. In the real world, Acting Director Dick was a dick, and Darcy and Jimmy welcomed Monica into their sciencey weird-crime-fighting team. Monica also mentioned an aerospace engineer she knows, which some suggest may be the first mention of Reed Richards in the MCU. I have conflicted feelings about the Fantastic Four. Mostly I never liked them. But, I'm open to revising my opinion.

Oh, and also X-Men 'Verse Pietro showed up suddenly and that was fun.

Anyway. the roommate and I tried to sort out a timeline — so Monica unBlips and goes back to work at SWORD three weeks later. AD Dick tells us Wanda stole Vision's body nine days previously. That means, just three weeks ago Wanda was in the middle of a battle, lost her boyfriend, was Snapped, was then unsnapped to fall right into the middle of another battle. Lost THREE additional teammates. And then sometime in the following week found out a shady government agency had Vision's body and she probably went "OH HELL NO". Because that's what I would say. So she goes to SWORD, dents a few doors, takes Vision's body and swans off to New Jersey. Look, she's been through a hell of a lot in the last couple weeks, is what I'm saying. I don't blame her a tiny bit. But, also, I don't think she's entirely behind this.

10-year old boy plus video camera = the 90s. Obnoxious opening credits. But, you know, I kind of liked them (as a one off). WAYYY better than last week's.

It's Halloween, and *sigh* Billy is breaking the fourth wall and narrating to the camera. There's childish twin bickering as you expect, Tommy's the wild and crazy twin, and Billy's the buttoned up twin. And Pietro is passed out on the couch at 4 in the afternoon. Living his best life. He teasingly scares the boys, chases them around, and there's awkward child acting.

Wanda comes down the stairs in the classic Scarlet Witch costume, and says she's a Sokovian Fortune Teller. Sokovia was more wild than I realized.

Genuinely funny flashback to Wanda and Pietro trick-or-treating in Sokovia as kids, 'the year we got typhus'. lol. Was it the fish that gave them typhus? Or was that just a special treat? Wanda doubts this version of events, and Pietro suggests she suppressed the memory due to the trauma. This gives Billy the chance to tell the camera that mom's been weird since uncle Pietro turned up to crash on their couch.

Next it's Vision's turn to appear in the classic Vision costume. Yikes. Wanda thanks him for humoring her, and he says there were no other clothes in his closet and they have a very weird second where he's not playing along and she's not sure what to do, and then he breaks into sitcom character says something about "just kidding, i know how much you love mexican wrestling" like it's a luchador costume, and then there's some super weird flirting. TMI you two.

Meanwhile, Pietro is a large child and the kids love him, of course. So there's that.

Back to Wanda and Vision, she's ready to take the kids out trick-or-treating, but Vision says he can't go, he's on the neighborhood watch and must patrol the streets ever-vigilant for wild gangs of child hooligans who might TP trees. He's gone off-script and it takes Wanda a second to figure out how to play this. She says it's the boys' first Halloween so he has to be there. Pietro breaks up the almost argument and says he can be a father figure-type and he'll help with the boys. Vision's still pretty off-script but Wanda doesn't fight it but looks uncertain, and he goes off to protect the night — or early afternoon.

Pietro is a child hooligan and wants to go do hooligany things with the kids. Wanda says he doesn't have a costume and he grabs Billy and they speed off only to return dressed in classic Quicksilver duds. Well, cheap-looking, thrown together Quicksilver duds. I laughed. The hair. lol. Good one.

Outside in the real world. The Hex field is still kind of glowing red and making bad force field noises. It only started doing that when Wanda got pissed in the last ep. Oh, goody, it's Acting Director Dick. I've learned his name is Hayward. I don't care.

Blah blah Stompy Mc-I'm-In-Charge blah. Monica is not pleased about the whole trying to kill Wanda with a missile while she was talking to her plan. AD Dick just says "now we know who we're dealing with". Um … what? You tried to kill her and her response was to tell you to go away. Yeah, boy, she's a monster.

Darcy is there to helpfully remind AD Dick that Wanda made him look like the fool he is. ILU girl. "Hey, there he is; the guy who almost got murdered by his own murder squad." Jimmy just makes a 'i'm so disappointed in you and your choices' face at him in the background.

I despise characters like Hayward. They are so tedious. Narratively they are there to incite conflict, but given the situation conflict naturally exists, surely there are other ways to bring up/drive that tension without the trope of the government heavy ready to solve the problem with the most extreme amount of force available to him. OH no! Our plucky heroes will have to find a way to save the day and fight the Man! Can they do it? Boring. It's too bad General Talbot went insane and then died; he could probably give tips on How Not To Be That Guy.

Anyway

Hayward wants to know if Darcy works for him and she's like "dunno my dude", Monica claims her, AD Dick says "which one of you is the sassy best friend" and Jimmy's like, that is quite enough Acting Director Not Very Nice Man. "There's no time to diminish your colleagues when you're about to start a war you can't win." AD Dick just wants to take out Wanda so the whole nightmare ends. Monica's like um, we literally do not know what's going on. Like, for real we have no clue. So that might not, in fact, end the nightmare, Director Murder Britches.

They argue a lot and Director Dick goes off the rails. Dude's like more unhinged than seems warranted. Unless he's just so embarrassed that he pissed himself when Wanda returned his murder drone to him, he's decided SHE MUST BE DESTROYED FOR THE GOOD OF … NEW JERSEY AND MY SOILED UNDERWEAR OR SOMETHING.

"Captain Rambeau, you are an impediment to this mission!" Oh no! He's gonna tell her all about how hard it was to survive in a post-blip world, all those lucky blipped don't know what it was like! You just can't understand! Monica tells him not to use that as an excuse to be a coward. I'm so bored with this scene. Let me guess, the trio will have to go behind his back to save the day.

"Maybe it's a good thing you weren't here with your mother died. Because, clearly you don't have the stomach for this job." … non-sequitur much? Or is he saying she would have inherited the Director-ship (which should probably not be how that sort of agency works, let's be real). Is this scene five hours long, or does it just feel that way?

The Dick banishes the trio from his base.

"Hayward is way over-stepping his provisional authority". Jimmy Woo, you're so great. Monica says he's up to something. Yeah a tactical nuke and murder. Clearly he doesn't want to actually solve the problem, he just wants the problem to go away with a big show of macho explosions and whatnot. I suspect he might be in over his head, like he was not meant to be Acting Director, let alone Director. Also, he's a boring cliche stereotype and I loathe it.

JIMMY! I legit did not see that coming. He just pure hauls off and clocks one of the soldiers escorting them off the base, to a transport truck or something. Monica seems just as surprised for a second but then she's like "hell yeah!" and jumps in. Darcy sort of stands back and watches. lol. "Why didn't anyone tell me the plan?"

Oh look, it's my shipping container! They put the soldiers in there. Guys, it was for Hayward. Come on.

The trio disguise themselves with ponchos, which is a big step up from the usual MCU disguise of "baseball hat". That was a good bit in Ant-man and the Wasp "it's not a disguise, it just looks like us at a baseball game" (I watched that like last week. I missed Luis). Anyway …

Back in the sitcom world. The kids are ready for their early afternoon trick-or-treating. They're still talking to the camera. It's so awkward. I'm not a fan. I get it's meant to reproduce the very 90s Nick-era sitcoms and so, you know, it's spot on. Still, though.

Pietro is encouraging and supportive. "Unleash hell, demon spawn!"

Dang there are a lot of kids in that neighborhood. Wasn't Vision wondering last episode why there weren't any kids? Is the program correcting itself?

Wanda tries to test Pietro, asking him about some kid at an orphanage when they were kids. Pietro calls her on it, and says he knows he looks different. Wanda wants to know why that is. He says, "You tell me. I mean, if I found shangra-la, I wouldn't want to be reminded of the past, either." Hmm.

The kids speed off with uncle Pietro. Wanda wanders over to talk to neighbor Herb, who has a g-man earbud in and is clearly part of the neighborhood watch. In the background Pietro is stealing all the candy and smashing pumpkins and spraying the place with silly string. The hijinks are so wacky. Wanda tells Herb maybe Vision can help out with the chaos, and Herb says Vision isn't on duty. Oh no, he lied to her!

Herb goes weird "is there something I can do for you, Wanda? Do you want something changed?" Hmmm.

Elsewhere Vision is wandering the wild streets of Westview. He finds people caught in some type of weird decorating loop, the woman seems trapped but aware.

Commercial time! What the fuck was that. "Yo-magic! The snack for survivors." No, really, what the fuck.

Night has fallen, the twins and the twins walk the streets. Wanda's making the boys give back all the candy they stole. She says Pietro is a bad influence. He says "I'm just trying to do my part, kay? Come to town unexpectedly, create tension with the brother-in-law, stir up trouble with the rugrats, and ultimately give you grief. I mean, that's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"What happened to your accent?"

"What happened to yours? Details are fuzzy, man. I got shot like a chump in the street for no reason." AHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA! no really AHAHAHAHAAH! Thank you, Pietro! Holy shit, perfect. That's some delicious shade. I expect to see this gif'd fifteen different ways when I load tumblr today.

"Next thing I know, I heard you calling me. I knew you needed me."

The kids interrupt. And now all of a sudden Tommy can zoom. Character development!

Everyone is so careful to give Wanda what she wants. Why? She's not cruel. Who wants to keep her pacified? And whoever it is cannot possibly be pleased with AD Dick messing things up. Assuming it's an outside or outside-ish force/entity, of course. I mean, I don't think she's doing this entirely, she might be the battery powering it, but despite her thing last episode to get SWORD to leave her alone, she does seem a little confused about the where, why, and how things are going.

"Don't go past Ellis Avenue." Just a kid thing or a boundary of the sitcom control world?

In the real world, our heroes are sneaking through a tent city and into the server room. The scene with Pietro and Wanda discussing his accent is playing in the background. Darcy seems put-out that Pietro was recast. lol. "He brought the wrong face."

Darcy hacks into Hayward's devices. "Hayward figured out a way to look through the boundary." "And he didn't share it with the group." I don't like Hayward.

Something is blipping on the map on the computer. Jimmy asks if it's Wanda, but Darcy says "it's tracking the decay signature of vibranium". So Vision. Monica wants to know why Hayward is tracking Vision. Well, I'd super like to know what SWORD was doing with Vision in the first place, because they weren't just storing him, they were doing something. So …

Jimmy notices that there are other dots, the ones closest to Vision, who are other residents. Jimmy says the ones near the edge of town are barely moving.

Back to Vision. He's found a cul-de-sac to patrol. Everybody's frozen in place, the street lights flicker. Eerie. They're all dressed for Halloween. Does this mean the field is shrinking, or the effects spreading and so it's closing in, slowing and then freezing people who were earlier moving about just fine? Vision is unaffected by this whatever it is. He turns himself into himself and flies off, up above the town. part of the town is dark, and part alive with voices and laughter.

He spots a car at the edge of town. It's Agnes. She seems frozen-ish, but when he asks what she's doing there, she says "Town Square Scare. Where is it?" all robotic like. Vision helpfully tries to give directions. lol. "Took a wrong turn, got lost" she says.

Vision touches her head and she wakes up. "You! You're one of the Avengers. You're Vision. Are you here to help us?" "I am Vision. I do want to help. But, what's an Avenger?"

Hmm. Well, I guess he did say last week that he couldn't remember anything before Westview.

"Am I dead?" she asks. "No, why would you think that?" "Because you are."

What was news coverage after the Snap like, do you suppose? I mean, ridiculous, of course. But, like, I think they had bigger problems then wondering about snapped/dead Avengers, didn't they? Well, maybe not. "WHERE ARE AVENGERS TO HELP US?" or "HOW DARE THE AVENGERS NOT HELP US!" "TOTALLY THIS IS ON THE AVENGERS!" "WE'D ALL BE DEAD WITHOUT THE AVENGERS!" "NUHUH! BOO AVENGERS!" "EXCEPT VISION WHO DIED HEROICALLY, WE ALL LIKE THAT AVENGER!" "TONY STARK AND PEPPER POTTS SHARE THE DECORATING TIPS THAT TRANSFORMED THEIR RUSTIC RESTORATION PROJECT INTO A CHARMING FAMILY HOME".

Agnes starts screaming "Dead" at Vision. She's not coping well. Vision says he's going to try and reach outside town and try to figure this all out. "How? No one leaves. Wanda won't even let us think about it." I SUSPECT YOU, AGNES! Why would Wanda keep everybody trapped and miserable? I could see if she did it on accident, but this implies she's purposefully hurting people. I don't buy it. Agnes, again, seems to be in the right place at the right time to make Vision doubt Wanda. You're a very suspicious character, Agnes.

She starts to laugh. "All is lost." Vision touches her had and she resets to sitcom Agnes. Somehow she can move again, she turns the car around on Ellis Ave and heads back into town. So, that answers that.

Vision walks across the Eillis Ave to the field beyond.

Meanwhile, Darcy continues to hack. Monica gets a text and says "that's it! My way back into the Hex will be here in an hour." Jimmy's all ready to boost a ride to take her to meet her aerospace buddy. But, Darcy says, nope. Can't do it. Monica's been through the Hex twice, and it's rewritten her cells. "It's changing you." Monica is undaunted. "I know what Wanda's feeling and I won't stop until I help her." Alrighty then.

Jimmy's finally going to get to hotwire a car! But wait, Darcy's not going with them. AD Dick has something hidden behind one last firewall. Darcy thinks it's big and can help them. She's going to find it.

I don't think Jimmy had to hotwire that humvee. It just started right up. Motorpool, pfft - they always leave the keys.

Back in Westview. Halloween continues at Town Square. Pietro asks Wanda where she was hiding all those kids. Whu? Says Wanda. "I assume they were all just sleeping peacefully in their beds. No need to traumatize beyond the occasional holiday cameo, amiright?" What is Pietro. "Hey don't get me wrong, you've handled the ethical considerations of this scenario as best you could. Families and couples stay together. Most personalities aren't far from what's underneath. People got better jobs. Better haircuts for sure."

"You don't think it's wrong?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm impressed. It's a pretty big leap from giving people nightmares and shooting red wigglywoos out your hands." No, really, what is Pietro? "How'd you even do all this?" Hmmm.

"I don't know how I did it. I only remember feeling completely alone. Empty. Just endless nothingness." She looks back at Pietro and for a second he's dead Pietro. Poor Wanda.

Darcy continues to hack Hayward's systems. Cataract classified weapons something something. They're still tracking Vision. Who continues his walk across the field and comes to the hex. He tries to push through it. Looks painful. SWORD rolls out to go overreact at him. He makes it through the barrier, kind of. It's a struggle.

Hayward standing there looking like a jackass "he really does want out, doesn't he?" Like he’s just amused by this turn of events, or watching a lab rat try to get out of the lab.

Darcy's standing behind watching all of this. Bits of Vision sort of fly off and back into the Hex. Darcy says "oh no!" and runs towards him, screaming for them to help him. Way to give away your sneaky hiding, girlfriend.

In Westview. Billy looks up, he can hear what's going on outside. "I hear daddy in my head. He's in trouble."

Vision calls for help, while SWORD prioritizes arresting Darcy. Phil Coulson would never have behaved like this. Boo to SWORD. Vision is dissolving. It's kind of gross and sad.

Wanda asks where Vision is, and Pietro interrupts "Don't sweat it, sis. It's not like your dead husband can die twice." Wanda wallops him with some red wigglywoos.

Billy sees soldiers and thinks Vision is dying. Wanda stops everything and makes a big red boom. The Hex appears to be expanding. Whoops, now you've done it AD Dick. He runs away like the brave brave guy he is. They leave Darcy handcuffed to a jeep. "Are you serious right now?"

The Hex overtakes Vision and then Darcy. Trapped soldiers become clowns, and we're in the circus. Well, SWORD seems like a circus, so Wanda's not wrong. I'm pretty sure Jimmy and Monica made it, but sadly the bravest Director who ever braved also escaped. He deserved to be a circus clown. Better luck next week, Wanda.

Credits.

Well, I just don't know anymore.

Hayward doesn't care about Wanda, except where I think because of this someone will figure out what he was doing to Vision's body. And Vision is ultimately the thing he cares about in all this. I hope Wanda drops a house on him.

Hmmm.

Quit suggesting I watch Age of Ultron next, Disney. It’s not happening.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wandavision liveblog

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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years ago

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Headcanon: Going Into Labor On Your Husband’s Birthday

Summary: Going into labor on your husbands birthday.

Isaiah Jesus x Reader

Warnings:

A/n: i love these! They are so cute!!! If you guys want me to do them for any other characters, I 100% will. I have so much fun writing these and I know you guys like them. I have another one of these coming out, which is a Finn x Reader x Isaiah. I have no clue how it will go. Honestly, I’m kinda running out of ideas because I don’t want them to all be the same.

Masterlist

You had woken up early that morning to prepare for the day.

It was Isaiah’s birthday and, though, he didn’t want you to fuss over it, you couldn’t help but do so.

The two of you had been married a little over a year and ever since you’d known him, you had always baked him a cake for his birthday.

There was no way you were going to pass that up this year.

Stirring the cake mix, you hummed as Isaiah entered the kitchen. You flashed him a smile, seeing he was barely ready for the day, skirt yet to be buttoned and face unshaven.

“What are you making?” he asked, coming to wrap his arms around you, letting them rest on your swollen belly.

Leaning into him, you pulled the spoon out of the batter to show him. “Cake.”

Isaiah groaned, shaking his head. “I told you not to bother with the cake, love. You heard what the doctor said.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to what you were doing. “Yes, I know. Rest. But last time I check, baking a cake won’t kill me.”

“You don’t know that,” he warned. “Please, just rest your feet when your done.” He kissed your hair before going to get himself a cup of coffee.

When you’d gotten pregnant, everyone told you to go about your day as normal. You heard it from your mother, your sister, Polly, and even Ada. They all told you the same thing. So, you did just that.

Isaiah was hesitant about that, weary that you would hurt yourself, but you always assured him you were fine.

That was until you took a tumble down the stairs a week prior.

You were trying to do laundry, bring the dirty clothes down to the kitchen to wash, when you hadn’t quiet landed on one of the steps and gravity pulled you down.

It wouldn’t have been bad, in your mind, had you not been weeks away from your due date.

At the time, you were the only one home, having to pick yourself up off the floor, despite the pain, and find someone to call.

There was no telling where your husband was and you knew you couldn’t call your mother at work, that left only one person you knew would pick up.

Ada rushed over, wasting no time to get to you and checked you over before taking you to the hospital.

She had become much like an older sister to you as yours were always too busy to make time for you. She helped you with your wedding, going with you to pick out your wedding dress, and she was the first person you told when you found out you were expecting.

Once you were given a bed and made comfortable, Ada left you for a few minutes to call the betting shop. Polly was no doubt there and would know where the boys were.

It didn’t take long for Polly to find the boys and send Isaiah to the hospital, holding the other men back, stating that he was the only one you needed in that moment.

You were half a sleep by the time your husband was at your side and, even though the doctor told you that you were fine, Isaiah wasn’t completely convinced.

The two of you went about your morning as usual.

You put your cake in the oven and, doing as you were asked, you sat at the table and drank some tea.

Isaiah finished getting dressed and wandered back into the kitchen. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

You nodded, watching him put a few pieces of bread in the toaster. “Ate when I woke up.”

“I have to go to the Garrison after this.”

You frowned, “But it’s your birthday,” you whined. “Can’t Tommy find someone else?”

There was silence as Isaiah placed his toast on a plate and took a seat at the table. “It will only be for an hour,” he assured you. You rolled your eyes, an hour to Thomas Shelby meant two. “I swear, just an hour.”

“Alright, but you better come straight home.”

Taking a bite of his toast, he nodded.

While Isaiah finished his breakfast, you took the cake out of the oven and let it cool. Sitting it by the stove, you pulled out all you would need to make frosting. The cake would be fine on it’s own but all birthday cakes needed frosting.

Your husband placed his plate in the sink when he was finished, kissed you on the cheek, and went to fetch his coat. “Anything ya want me to get from the market?”

“No,” you drawled. “I’ll probably think of something once you leave, though.” With that, he slipped out the door, promising to be home on time.

You had little faith that would happen.

Once the frosting was finished and the cake was completely cool, you began to frost it. You weren’t even half way done when you felt some liquid run down your leg.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, believing you had simply peed yourself. Your mother had warned you that something like that may happen, though you had yet to experience. Leaving the half frosted cake, you make your way up stairs to change your clothes, grumbling the whole way.

With newly washed clothes, you walked down the stairs, being careful to watch your step. A shark pain hit your lower abdomen once at the bottom of the stairs. Grabbing onto the rail for support, you sucked in a breath and waited for it to pass.

It lingered for longer then you would have liked, but once it was gone, you waddled into the kitchen to finish what you had started.

The cake wasn’t perfect but you were no baker, so it was fine.

Taking a step back, you sunk into one of the chair at the table, admiring your work. You weren’t given long before the pain crept back in, stronger this time, causing you to lean against the table.

Part of you wanted to believe it was simply nothing, but another part of you knew it was foolish to believe that.

With shaking hand, you pushed your self out of the chair and slowly made your way over to the phone. In that moment, you wanted to call Isaiah, but what could he do? Instead, you dialed Ada, praying she would pick up.

“Ada,” you sighed in relief when her voice came through the line. “I think the baby’s coming!”

“Shit,” she mumbled, “Are you at home?” Once you answered, she asked another question, “Is Isaiah there?”

“No, he’s at the Garrison with your brothers,” you breathed as a contraction washed over you.

Ada sighed and told you to hold tight, that she was on her way and would fetch Polly on the way over.

Hanging up the phone, all you could do was pace around the house. Sitting didn’t seem comfortable and, in all honesty, you had no clue what to do. No one had every told you a single thing to do once in labor, it was horrible for you to have to figure it out on your own.

It was long before Polly and Ada walked through the door, sweet smiles greeting you.

“Ada, call the boys,” Polly instructed, stripping off her coat. “Let’s get you up stairs.” She led you up the stairs, a careful hand resting on your back.

By the time Isaiah, with the Shelby brothers right behind him, entered the house, you were already tired and wanted nothing more than to hold your baby in your arms.

Isaiah leaned against the kitchen counter, Finn searching for a bottle of whiskey. After your fall a few weeks prior, he was worried how this would go. He couldn’t lose you.

“She’ll be fine,” John assured him from his seat at the table. Though, he knew more than Isaiah when it came to childbirth, his words didn’t hold as much meanings as he thought they would.

The only thing that would sooth the man was seeing you, alive and well.

It felt like an eternity before Ada came down the stairs, the blanket Isaiah’s father had gifted them in her arms.

Standing straighter, he held his breath as she placed the squirming bundle in his arms. Moving the material out of the baby’s face, Isaiah smiled at his child.

The baby in his arms, a part of him and the woman he loved, was the best birthday present he’d ever received.

“It’s a girl, just like Polly said,” Ada told him.

Glancing up at her, he asked, “How’s Y/n?”

“Perfectly fine. You can go up and see her if you’d like.”

He didn’t need to be told again as he raced up the stairs. If were up to him, he would have been by his wife’s side the whole time. Perhaps, if they were to have anymore children, he would be there, holding her hand.

*~~*~~*

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hottestthingalive · 3 years ago

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Basically just that during the prison lore Quackity tried to quote Techno, act as though their dynamic had changed at all, but really it was still the same thing again but with Quackity even more entrenched into being well- wrong. Quackity both times had plenty and enough equipment, while Techno had limited to no supplies and was hypothetically at every disadvantage. Both times he survived because of plans he prepared (the totem and the stasis chamber), some help (Dream leaving Techno supplies, Phil activating the chamber), and his wits. Quackity tried to act like things were different this time, that before Techno had had the power, and this time Quackity did. He tried to act like he wasnt just doing the same shit again.

And he knew damn well he was just doing it again, and he knew what would come next. After all, L'Manburg went out before, this time he know Las Nevadas would be the target. He knew it was just history repeating itself, at least he did by the time Techno was gone.

Both times Techno's eventual attack was probably inevitable, and both times Quackity only sped up the process by trying to kill him.

ok this is actually an amazing take and is helping me finally put to words something i’ve been thinking about since the stream where quackity had that flashback to him and wilbur talking (in the same stream as the george & quackity convo? can’t remember the name i apologize but i hope you know what i mean) so here goes:

i feel like s2 was a lot about trying to break out of patterns established by the dsmp’s, and specifically l’manberg’s, past. for perhaps the most popular example, people’ve talked for a hot minute about the tubbo and tommy vs schlatt and wilbur parallels of that season and season one, and about how their storylines diverged off the path the other two set, etc etc. we’ve mentioned l’manberg dying for the third and final time, the disc war finally ending with tommy taking two lives from dream in return for the two taken from him, the fact that tubbo was the first president to largely outlive his country, and so much more. fundamentally, s2 was about trying to change!

except trying is the key word there, i think, because s3 is built on the foundation that things aren’t as different as they seem — that the past, as far away as it may be, still has some hold over the present. and quackity as a character has emphasized that perfectly.

more than almost anyone else, who we commonly consider quackity’s character to be was built around l’manberg. and yes, i am including tommy and tubbo in that statement — if anything, i’d argue that the exile arc switched their character dynamics, because through the perspective that tommy was closer to l’manberg and tubbo was more distant, those roles changed with exile, dramatically. but we have been able to think of them outside of that lens, and narratively both of their characters, while linked closely with their country, are not completely built around it. (tubbo could be made an argument for, but my c!tubbo rant is long and complicated and warrants another post entirely so i’ll hold off.)

but quackity was vice president of l’manberg, twice. it’s been argued for both of those administrations that he was more president than the actual person in power: with schlatt, because he went off the fucking rails and became a dictator, and with tubbo, because he let himself get pushed into stuff after exiling tommy because he didn’t want to be a bad president. he built el rapids, his first country, as what was originally a mimicry/offset/ripoff (depending on your view, not opening this debate today) of l’manberg. c!quackity built his identity around being the person who, against all odds, became an important part of the country he loved.

and like a lot of other former l’manbergians, quackity’s trapped in the past. in a way that kind of reminds me of niki and jack, actually, though that is a whole other essay.

quackity’s building himself a new l’manberg, one where he’s president, one where he’s powerful, one that will never die. he’s making himself into a blend of all the most powerful people he ever knew, but especially wilbur and schlatt, to try and fill the role he’s given himself, but in the end he’s just leading las nevadas into the same crater l’manberg became. which matches pretty well for the technoblade thing you mentioned, i think: quackity’s trying to fix his history, is trying to change his past by changing his present, but he hasn’t yet realized that he’s playing a losing game. and this whole thing with techno is a big part of that.

(i also think karl and sapnap were a big part of what was finally helping q pull away from l’manberg, with el rapids and whatnot, so thinking they’d betrayed him drove him down the path of becoming a new schlatt/wilbur combo to seek power instead of staying himself and building a country for his and his friends’ safety, but, again. whole other rant)

#asks #anon #dream smp techno #quackity dream smp

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joelmillerthirstqz · 4 years ago

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From this prompt: Joel meets y/n and he makes it his MISSION to fuck her. Throw in a daddy kink if you’re brave

(I did, with ten thousand character-intensive caveats. Porn with obligatory plot, is there a tag for that? Anyway have some suspiciously assertive Joel)

---

Joel moves throughout the rooms of his house, picking up one occupation after the next, bored around one in the afternoon and faced with the reality that he neither remembers nor knows what to do with actual free time, safety, and space of his own. Tommy and Maria had brought some kind approximations of traditional housewarming, but much of his home was furnished by the previous resident and he sat there overwhelmed by spatial possibility. For all his griping about Ellie’s perpetual stream-of-consciousness chattering, the silence roared in his ears like he’d been dragged downstream.

Do people just go drink now? Just talk to each someone to pass the time? he thinks to himself, frustrated. By the time he could legally go to a bar, he’d been twenty-one and Sarah had been three, her mom long gone. He hadn’t spent time alone since the outbreak—always Tommy or Tess and others in between nearby. Acute problems to solve, no time for chronic reflection.

Tommy brought a lone box of possessions from his apartment with a case of cheap beer the night Sarah’s mom left, hanging around more tangibly than any other family had and often taking Sarah to school once Sarah was old enough. Tommy joked that it was more like Joel having two kids to deal with; Joel ribbed him for perpetually flirting with the very clearly married moms of his niece’s classmates.

Joel gulps a breath, self-flagellating with the idea that he hadn’t been able to protect Sarah when Tommy and Maria so clearly deserved to have their own child, forgetting as ever that his brother executed the soldier that shot Sarah before he could get to Joel—without a blink.

Wonderful. That’s what you do alone with your thoughts for two seconds. Jesus, Joel, he grumbles inwardly.

He’d been dragged to so many damn things since settling in Jackson and didn’t know what to do when it was his choice, so he looks outside. If Ellie’s light is on, he’ll go awkwardly try to make conversation, see if she’s okay. If she’ll be caught in a forgiving mood; if not, if he’s really pushing it.

Joel’s boots thud softly on the flagstone they’d carefully laid together, a path for her to get up to the house without soaking her sneakers through. Tonight, though, she’s gone or playing dead, so he sighs and shrugs a coat on, headed for the Tipsy Bison.

————

Joel spent a nontrivial amount of his time lately fending off interested parties in Jackson.

It was just cuffing season, he dismissed—encroaching fall making people a little weird. Since he’d begun to settle in, slowly accustoming himself to having Ellie out of his sight often and a normal couch in a house without shattered windows, he’d slowly accepted more public interactions. He’d grudgingly shoulder into town meetings, quiet until Tommy or someone else would put a question to him like he had a fucking clue.

Joel went on patrol, helping some of the greener residents learn to keep themselves safe. Unfortunately, it meant more people caught sight of him. Joel was used to prowling through quarantine zones swollen with cowering masses plainly terrified of him, which left him minimally prepared for reactions he thought he’d stopped evoking long ago.

The people whose breath hitch when they first notice him, the longing stares when he’d finally break and smile or laugh—they’d gotten embarrassing enough for him to avoid certain places.

Whenever Joel seems like he’s about to not comply with her wishes, Maria frequently threatens to tell the women who ask her in lewd tones if Tommy has a brother the truth—he does, and how about I introduce you?

The truth was he didn’t feel capable of starting anything with someone who’d ask where he’d been. Joel didn’t want to remember, even if he’d finally pinned the picture of himself with Sarah at a soccer game up next to the blooming collection of pictures in his living room with Ellie, Polaroids in Jackson blooming over nearby wall space every few weeks. People who wanted honesty to go with their peaceful existence reminded him too much of Tommy’s near-fatal optimism, and he felt like it would be too dishonest to start anything with anyone who still lost sleep over distasteful things done to survive. Delightful first-date baggage, in his estimation.

At the Tipsy Bison, he edges in by the drinking patrol nearest the door, welcomed gruffly and responding the same. It was nice to be recognized without raw fear or calculation as he entered, and Joel warms enough to drop his coat over the back of his chair, his rust-colored flannel’s buttons parting over the shirt beneath it as he moves, listening to Eugene tell some inflated war story with an almost-cold beer.

“Alright, fuck this. Knuckle up, asshole, I’m not doing this on patrol tomorrow,” Joel’s ears perk up at the sound of your chair clattering backwards as you stand. Joel recognizes you from the newer batch of arrivals, clearly deemed capable enough to join an early patrol just days after your arrival.

“Jesus, settle the fuck down,” one of the younger patrolmen grouses, standing up. Alex. Oh, the dumb kid.

“Nope. Now or never,” you insist.

“Listen, I’m not hitting you,” he sounds unapologetic but tries to portray himself as the reasonable party. He’s wiry, and Joel’s seen him fend for himself, but his posture doesn’t belie cool confidence.

“You clearly have some doubts, so let’s get into it,” you urge, agitated beyond belief. He’d been needling you about perceived skill, something about not growing up having to field dress animals, and you’d fucking had it. He was going to make a point on patrol and get someone hurt, and you were not carrying bodies back into Jackson because of some ego or misplaced crush.

He taps your shoulder mockingly with a closed fist, a gentle little motion, trying to smile playfully.

You hook him across the jaw, staggering him before taking a knee to his stomach as he tries to right himself.

“More, or you’re finished?” you ask.

Joel fully sits up in his chair. He hasn’t seen anything like this in Jackson. Glancing over both shoulders for his brother, Maria, and finding a clear coast he watches the outcome with interest, sipping his beer with an upturned mouth.

You’re cute, or appealing, or some reflexive word Joel hadn’t used in years, pushing hair out of your eyes as you regain your center.

Alex tries to sweep your legs out, successfully swiping one and getting a knee to the diaphragm for it as you land.

“Okay, fuck, I’m done,” he grunts and you rise easily, offering him a hand.

“Good,” you mumble, letting go the second he’s righted. You look around a little chastened by all the eyes on you, deciding to forego another round.

“I’m going to bed before we do this again,” you nod at Alex, and the rest of the patrol group you recognize in turn.

Joel eyes you as you depart, beer polished off and goodbyes waved, coat gripped in his fist to be flung on once outside. He knows your name, had seen you near the stables and conversing with the patrols. Hearing you speak, despite the context, maybe because of it, let him confirm something he’d been suspecting when he caught glimpses of you before. Never having had the right circumstances or raw spare time to devote all his energy to taking someone to bed, he steels himself to confirm it.

He trots after you, tugging his jacket back on and finding his way to the four-story hotel the town had spent arduous time clearing, stripping of spores, and making hospitable enough for people new to Jackson. Joel ended up leading a lot of the effort himself, vaguely proud to be doing something other than dismantling things, stretching old skills. Your little corner balcony faces off of one side, a nice view of the town unfolding as people begin to switch lights on for a sooner-than-yesterday sundown. You’re appreciative of a strange little luxury—not sure when the last time you stood with your back to a door without anticipating some infected would burst through.

You lean your elbows on the railing, a flask of whisky tipping in your fingers as you watch Jackson light up, a lone figure’s long strides coming into view down the broad street. The night is cool against your skin, but the little shiver the breeze causes feels affirming.

You’d always loved the fall, and Jackson’s soft sounds of life feel unreal enough that you could never sit here just sobering up before bed. It would leave you too wired, buzzing with the anxiety of certain impermanence. Reconciling this liminal zone with the gnashing horror just beyond it wasn’t something you’d take on without help. If Jackson was only a passing reprieve, you had to make yourself calm enough to enjoy it.

Joel halts below where you’re standing, hands on his hips pulling his jacket open as he looks up at you.

You’re instantly sheepish—you’d guessed in whatever patrol hierarchy there was, he was rather important. And you’d just visibly beaten someone down.

“Alex okay?” you call.

“He’ll be peachy. Not here for that,” Joel retorts, low drawl pleasant.

“Well,” you shrug, gesturing to the two mismatched chairs on the balcony with your flask. “Allow me to be a gracious host.”

He smiles and looks down for a moment. Even a couple of stories above him, you can see his height, start to assess his proportions because you’re too tipsy to be a human fucking being about your first interactions in a good place. You quickly add up a sum: his legs are long, shoulders broad, hair long enough to tug on. His frame suggests complete capability and you have a dire need to test it.

Aw, fuck.

“Y’know, I’ve got real glasses for drinking that,” Joel insinuates before he can tell himself to shut the fuck up, or to stop harassing newcomers, or any other sensible thought.

“Fair enough,” you call, closing your flask and holding a finger up to signal that he should wait.

When you arrive downstairs, boots poorly laced and denim jacket barely enough for the chill, Joel’s leaning on the veranda of the whole structure. You suppose its fair to gawk in appreciation so you do, assuring yourself you could have chosen not to.

“Look, I’m not going to ask what this is, and you won’t ask why I’m saying yes, okay?” you say softly when you’re a couple of feet from him.

Joel raises his eyebrows, feeling untethered. Some corner of him expected to humiliate himself to death so he could go home and fall asleep barely after dark, anything to shut himself up until he was occupied again. His heart speeds a little at your reply, hand on the back of his neck as he pushes back onto both feet.

“I’m close,” Joel offers, hand down towards the street, fists quickly in his own pockets. You pull your bottom lip inward, looking at his profile, wanting to hear it again, lower, helpless.

You pass the walk in tense but not unpleasant silence, glancing at each other until you reach his porch and he edges in to unlock his door.

Turning on lights as you toe off your boots and follow him inside, you watch how he moves, past the need for any type of persuasion. He returns from the kitchen with two matching, unchipped short glasses and a cylindrical glass of amber liquid.

“Trade?” Joel asks setting the bottle down and closing an open window. Your mouth quirks.

“That’s a nice custom. It a Jackson thing?” you ask, tipping your flask into his glass as he returns and pours from the bottle for you.

He laughs, sharp hazel eyes jumping up to you and back down, hand running over his beard.

“Not sure. What else would you do?”

You drop onto one of the two couches, arranged in the way that says people actually spend time here together. Joel gets onto his knees to build a fire, definitely a necessity, though kind of needlessly sweet for the occasion.

“This?” you tease, gesturing between the two of you. Joel joins you on the same couch, heat radiating into the space around you, well before the spark in the fireplace could catch enough to reach you.

You take stock of each other in comfortable silence, and a slow grin moves from one side of your face to the other. You finish your drink with a tinge of shyness, setting it down as he does the same.

You have no warning before his mouth is on yours, hands on either side of your face. It’s achingly good to be kissed with complete attention, luxury of time changing the entire tenor of kissing another person. You’re grounded to who’s holding you, mouth accepting him as Joel leads, guiding your jaw where he wants it with the flat of his palm. Joel moves slowly, plenty of time for you to reciprocate his motions though you begin to shift closer, scant sense of rhythm keeping you from straddling his hips.

The taste of him and your anticipatory haze keeps you fixed on the kiss, his hands sliding lower and beginning to move you towards his lap.

You try not to break the kiss with a smile, but it happens anyway and he looks up curiously. You sit back on your heels and tear through the buttons of your jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch and stroking fingernails through his beard before beginning the kiss again. Joel tugs you closer by the hip, urging you into his lap. He scans your face intensely, pulling you fully against him and letting his hands run the expanse of your back.

You can feel how rough his hands are through your shirt, so your fingers fly to his to work the buttons of his flannel.

“Christ,” you roll your eyes, exposing a second shirt underneath. He chuckles warmly in his chest, your foreheads bowed together a moment.

“C’mon,” Joel mutters, broad hands under each of your thighs as he rises with you wrapped around him. A segment somewhere in your brain shimmers, clicking with the novel experience, a knockout strike in the lane of neurons igniting to remember their roles.

“Where’s c’mon?” you ask incoherently between kisses, moving your mouth to his neck so he can answer. You think regretfully that it’s probably substantially warmer down here, fire catching nicely.

“Upstair—” Joel cuts off, your teeth nipping his pulse point.

You feel his heart jump against your mouth and your chest at once. You kiss him slowly as he takes you upstairs, stopping halfway up. He pushes you against the banister and deepens the kiss, hard length made clear. Shifting you closer to his waist once you resume, Joel’s hands creep a little higher, fingertips edging up as they dig in.

As you reach his bedroom, you have one hand hooked in the bottom seam of his shirt, ready to pull it off as he tries to set you down. Joel grunts when you tangle his broad shoulders in it, getting free and discarding it agilely. He bears down on you under dark lashes, chest rising and falling noticeably. The chill upstairs dissolves quickly as you twine together, hands running over his chest. It’s impressively broad and defined, thickening line of hair leading into his jeans.

You strip out of your two shirt layers with a casual roll of your upper body. Joel’s rapt eyes dragging over every rib leave you feeling exposed until his hands cover your breasts, mouth on your neck. You try to tug the rest of him towards the bed by the belt loops, but get frustrated and try to unclasp his belt instead.

Joel stoops to claw quickly at his boots, both thrown one handed before coming to rest against the wall. He hasn’t taken his eyes from you as you rise to slip your jeans down, one hand already curled back around your waist. He spreads his other hand across your abdomen, callused fingertips making you shudder appreciatively. Shoving you back, Joel gets to his knees with one of your legs hooked over his shoulder, grasped in his palm, kissing down your thigh. His free hand still moves over the rest of you.

Your mind is blankly focused on the rasp of his beard inside your legs. If you were honest, head wasn’t a frequent priority after the outbreak, sex usually a time-sensitive stress fix—for everyone. Add to that the average skill of the college peers you’d fucked before and, well, you’d only ever mildly enjoyed it.

Joel sucks your clit into his mouth, hard, and you arc off the bed. He moves without an ounce of uncertainty, shifting and roughly positioning you for the best angle as he goes. Being pursued like this, by a person who squarely checks boxes you didn’t know were empty left you wet enough to take him the moment you’d been out of your pants. His tongue pushes inside of you, followed quickly by one finger and then another, static but wonderful. You writhe on the bed at the feeling, low hum of a chuckle skittering across your sensitive skin.

One hand in the sheets, your other makes it into his hair. You grind against him without being able to help it, riding the stretch of his fingers as his tongue laves forceful circles around your clit.

“Fuck,” you try to grit out, embarrassed by the disassembled breathiness of your voice. It’s more a sigh as he curls his fingers within you, hazel flicking up to watch your reaction. You paw at his shoulders blindly, wanting him closer, wanting to fuck him, trying to pull back from him to tell him. He’s deadset in his focus, teeth softly grazing you in reply to your attempt.

“Can you just—” Joel grumbles, rising,“—be good for one goddamned second—” he yanks you towards him by your ankle.

“This where you want me to tell you to make me?” you tease, sitting up in his lap and wrenching him closer with your legs.

He huffs a small laugh, making to kiss you, but you hold him back.

“I want you to make me, okay?” You say seriously, grasping the hair at his nape to emphasize it.

Joel leans forward, biting your lip with care.

“Alright,” he confirms, hands around your jaw. You taste yourself on him, and a near-growl ripples through him, evident through his chest pressed against yours.

You duck away from his kiss, not caring to get his jeans off before getting a hand around his cock, your mouth enclosing the tip before you can register how much there is to take.

“Christ,” he breathes, eyes shut, face turned towards the ceiling. As your hand becomes slick enough to work over his shaft, his hands stabilize in your hair, bunching. You feel him flex in your mouth as he parts his lips and tugs on your hair, hauling you up level with his face.

“You don’t get to end it now,” Joel smiles, mouth almost against yours. You smile at the rough motion, hot interest skipping down your spine. His opposite hand is running over your chin while he composes himself, far closer than he’d wanted to be at this point.

You bite his fingers, pulling two deftly in to suck and keeping his gaze. His pupils darken and you feel a surge of pride at the same time as you feel him shove you back onto the bed, tearing his jeans off and finally joining you. Joel covers you, kissing you roughly and pulling your thighs around his hips, on his knees. He sheathes inside you without resistance, groaning and bowing his head at first. Even ready, he stretches you noticeably and you gasp at his first experimental thrusts, dragging your hips up to his each time.

You rise up to meet him, nails dug into his shoulders for traction, meeting his thrusts.

Joel hisses more in chastisement than discomfort at it, smacking your ass curiously.

“You know I’m not delicate,” you say close to his ear, snapping the lobe between your teeth unnecessarily hard.

“Shit, ow—” he grumbles, smacking you harder. You moan at the feeling, spread over his lap and trawling nails down his back. You tug where you’ve latched on, moving lower and biting his neck. He does it again, rolling his hips as you clench down on him. You scrape your teeth over his shoulder. Joel hits you again, force of it stinging how you’d hoped.

You provoke him to continue, pulling his hair, hard, and biting the skin over his collarbone.

Joel fists your hair and tugs back hard, exposing your throat to him even as you keep riding him, spanking you with almost musical timing. You almost draw blood scratching your nails out of his hair to the nape of his neck, grinning from your forced angle as he pants under you.

Joel leans forward and nips carefully over your larynx, clamping down hard on tendons just next to it. It’s a brash spot to suck a bruise into, and even the less visible parts of your body would surely be screaming on patrol in the morning.

You cry out, nerves and instinctive reaction to teeth near your neck making your heart and your cunt clench.

Joel flips you without effort, pressing a palm against your lower back to shove you into the mattress. You feel him strike your ass, once, twice, three times, and then his fingers are at your entrance, coaxing your hips to tilt up. He brushes his knuckles against you, leaning over to breathe into your ear.

“Here?”

“What did I just say?” You retort, appreciative of his caution but entirely sold on the possibility that walking will hurt tomorrow.

Joel doesn’t reply but you can see him roll his eyes from the corner of yours as he swats your cunt, hard, sensation shattering across your skin. You moan and he takes the initiative to do it again. Your shoulder blades pinch together around his hand, veering up with it. You turn your face entirely into the bed, muffling moans and faux-objections as he works, tenderness rising to the surface of your skin.

You feel Joel’s hands harshly grasp handfuls of your ass the second before he thrusts into you again, the force pinning you to the bed. He fucks you hard for long minutes, sweat building between you enough to make his hands slip. Joel’s forearm slides around your front and pulls you back against his chest.

You immediately claw at his arm, grateful to anchor yourself to him directly, pushing your hips down against his as he falls back to a gentler pace. His mouth reaches your shoulder and your hand flies to his hair again, straining to kiss him. Maybe it was weird to seek him like that—could still be a fantastic, unattached fuck—but Joel kisses you with this unerring focus that already makes you hope it will happen again.

“Takin’ me perfectly,” he drawls, some enunciation falling away with his blood coursing like this. You want to keep hearing him, so you nod and resume kissing him.

“More delicate than you thought? Need a break?” Joel taunts, and your eyes narrow as he speaks low and close, still thrusting shallowly.

“You want it hard again?” Joel teases, fingers skimming your stomach to roll your clit between them his thumb and index. It pinches and you suck in a breath, your hips floundering against his patient rhythm.

Your eyes spark and you decide to push.

“Yes, daddy,” you mock, almost sneering at him.

A dim recollection of a girl he’d briefly seen after Sarah’s mom left dusts itself off, and he reconnects dots that drifted apart from disuse after the outbreak. Joel raises his eyebrows at you and tips his head as if to say, “Well, alright then.”

You’re on your hands and knees before you can react, his hand spanning across your collarbones, bracing you against his repeated impact. Joel’s breathing becomes ragged each time he slides home, folding over you again to spill an endless wave of questions into your ear. His fingers are smoother across your clit now, drawing soaked concentric circles as you hitch.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Joel punctuates with a snap of his hips.

“You gonna come for me just like this?” Again.

“Come around my cock like a good girl?” Again, rough.

You moan, dropping to your elbows as he pounds into you, orgasm building inside of you spilling over to his fingers’ stimulation, a low groan meeting yours. You’re past words and shivering on the edge of climax when he taps your jaw.

“Focus up, c’mon,” he rumbles in your ear, demanding your attention. The pressure of his length against the tension inside of you has your vision blurring at the edges.

“Tell me,” Joel demands, pulling out halfway.

“Yes! Please, please,” you hear yourself sound panicky at the threat of losing his touch.

“Not what I asked you, baby,” he goads, nipping softly across your shoulders. His hand hasn’t stilled, and you know your eyes are rolling with the distracting pleasure of it.

“Yes, yes I will, please—”

“Tell me what,” he slips in an inch, voice shaky with thin control, fingers flexing where they meet your skin.

“Come for you, please don’t stop,” you plead, trying to shove your hips back to to meet his.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Joel murmurs and you break, quivering against his fingers and fussing with effort and relief. Your cheeks and mouth bloom red as your eyes droop with the onslaught of endorphins, still cresting as you feel Joel’s hips snap in quick succession, burying himself deep and making the best, most broken noise you could have hoped for. Even deep in your own fog, you reach for him, finding his mouth as it seeks yours again, aftershocks rolling through him.

Joel rolls onto his back, tugging you along one side. You don’t much enjoy being pinned if you weren’t also being penetrated, so the intimacy of lying there like lovers with someone you’d barely glimpsed, much less talked to, was unsettling.

Joel laughs like it’s easy for him, face lighting up with the motion, hand stroking your hair behind your ear.

“What?” You ask, propping yourself up on an elbow.

“Just surprised you said yes,” he clarifies. “I’m don’t—this isn’t a usual Wednesday for me,” he clears his throat.

You analyze his expression for a second, looking for the deceit and just finding something genuine and suspiciously shy for having nearly spanked you to orgasm minutes ago.

“You don’t accost every vulnerable newcomer and ply them with good whisky?” You prod, draping yourself over his chest, an easy negotiation of legs happening without either of you needing to acknowledge it.

“Bourbon, and, just the ones who start fistfights, really,” he teases, hands drifting over you, hungry warmth reaching his eyes as the afterglow begins to recede.

“Come downstairs?” Joel asks, like you weren’t tangled up in his bedsheets, surrounded and willingly captive to whatever he wanted.

“That was the original plan,” you protest, peering around for his shirt and slipping into it.

He smirks and kisses the tip of your nose, pausing and tipping your chin up to kiss you properly.

God damn it, you think. Oh, god damn it.

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #the last of us joel #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us ii #the last of us 2 #asks #filled prompts #prompts #joel/reader

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my-emotional-self · 5 years ago

Text

The Soulmates Chapter 5

Moodboard by @princess-evans-addict

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: swearing, physical assault, oral sex (male receiving), drug use, exotic dancing

Summary: Being born with the words of two soulmates was rare, and you were one of them. You had no idea that when you started a new job as Pepper Potts’ personal assistant you would end up finding both of your soulmates. Things start off great, but what happens when Steve and Bucky find out about your double life and your side job?

You didn’t care how many speeding violations you broke; you needed to get home and to the club as soon as possible and that’s exactly what you were doing. Luckily you made it back to your place in record time. Running up the stairs, you grabbed a wig and an outfit and raced back outside. You really hoped Tony’s car would be safe in your neighborhood but you couldn’t think about that right now.

Leaving the car outside of your apartment, you raced down the street to the club, knowing you would be in a world of pain tonight. Tommy deleted his number from your phone after the first time you called in sick; he didn’t want you doing that anymore so you couldn’t even call him to let him know you were running late.

By the time you reached the club, your chest and legs were aching; your mouth screaming for any kind of liquid as nearly tripped over your feet heading in through the back door. Looking around, Tommy wasn’t in the dressing room so you quickly stripped of your clothes and got ready. Tonight you were wearing a neon green short bobbed wig, a black lace bralette and lace boy short panties over your fishnet stockings. Your hands shook as you applied your smoky eye look and red lipstick; terrified of what Tommy was going to say or do to you.

Putting down your lipstick, you saw a glass tray with cocaine on it placed in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, you looked up to see Tommy standing there with a scowl on his face.

“Tommy, I’m so sorry I’m late. I fell asleep and forgot to set my ala-,” you began to say but Tommy cut you off.

“Save it kid. You’re on next so take a few bumps before you get out there.”

Nodding your head, you took the rolled up bill from Tommy and took a few hits of cocaine. With your nerves bubbling because of being late, you decided to take an extra hit, just to be on the safe side. Laying the bill down on the table, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, wiping the white powder off your nose and taking a few deep breaths; letting the drug calm you. The high began to hit you and you felt yourself relax. You felt on top of the world as all your worries rushed out of your body.

You felt euphoric as your name was called from the DJ out front; the men in the crowd going crazy knowing you were on stage next.

Walking up the few steps to the stage, you had to grip onto the railing; maybe taking that extra bump of cocaine wasn’t the best idea.

Sia’s ‘Cheap Thrills’ began to sound over the speakers; a slow smile spreading across your lips as you began to move to the beat of the music.

Come on, come on, turn the radio on

It’s Friday night and I won’t be long

Gotta do my hair, I put my makeup on

It’s Friday night and I won’t be long

You did a knee hook around the pole, gripping tightly with your right knee and right hand as you swung easily around the pole; the crowd erupting in cheers as you saw bills being thrown onto the stage.

As you stopped spinning, you saw the man who was there from a few weeks ago. He was wearing a dark gray suit; his black hair slicked back just like last time. You made sure to give him a wink before walking over to that side of the stage where he was sitting.

‘Til I hit the dance floor

Hit the dance floor

I got all I need

No I ain’t got cash

I ain’t got cash

But I got you baby

You turned around, swaying your hips as you walked back to the pole and did a carousel swing around it; your knees tucked in on the side as you swung around in circle after circle; your arms beginning to get tired but you gripped the pole securely.

Alternating between dancing around your customers and doing moves on the pole, the song ended too soon for your liking. It was kind of funny, dancing to a song that says ‘I don’t need dollar bills to have fun tonight’ when in fact, that was part of this job. But hell, it was fun to dance to and your customers loved to watch you; and you loved the attention. Normally, you hated any kind of attention, but the darkness inside of you always came to life when you were on stage; that darkness you felt your whole life growing up with such hateful parents who never showed an ounce of love to you. It was a way to let loose, to get that frustration and aggression out and you weren’t hurting anyone in the process so it was a win win situation.

The rest of the night went on in a blur as you continued taking hits of cocaine between each of your sets. By the end of the night, you were banking in money.

Since you were the last dancer on stage tonight, the back room was empty by the time you were done. You grabbed a bottle of water and began to take big gulps, feeling parched. Before you knew it, the bottle was ripped from your hand, water spilling all over you as Tommy backhanded you across the face.

Your head whipped to the side so fast, you cried out in pain both from your cheek and neck. “Don’t you ever pull that fucking stunt again Rosalie,” Tommy seethed, pointing his finger in your face. “You fucked up my rotations tonight and over half of those paying customers out there were for YOU!”

Your lower lip began to tremble as you tried to keep steady in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered out, knowing it wouldn’t do much good.

“I don’t want to hear it Rosalie. You’re lucky that’s the only punishment you get….for tonight.” Your worried eyes met his, knowing he had something planned. “From now on, you are here five nights a week."

“But Tommy-“

“Fucking save it kid! I don’t want to hear about your new job. You know the damn rules. Keep your personal life out of this job. If you can’t handle both jobs, then quit your other one. You’re mine for four more years, you got that?” You nodded your head at him, too fearful to speak. “Good. And you’ll need to get some new outfits because you are on Rock night now too.”

Heading back to your apartment, you tried to hold back the tears as best you could. You didn’t know how this was going to be possible. Working five days a week at the Avengers compound, and now adding an additional two nights a week at the club. You were already beginning to lose weight and you had to buy new concealer to cover the dark bags under your eyes. But you knew what Tommy was capable of doing; hitting you was letting you off easy. You weren’t going to break the deal you had with him, for anything. For one, you knew you were only as good as your word and you weren’t going to break that, it wasn’t in your character to break a contract. And two, you didn’t know what kind of lengths Tommy would go to if you broke said contract; and you sure as hell didn’t want to find out.

By the time you left the club it was nearing four in the morning. The fresh air felt amazing on your heated skin as you slowly walked back to your apartment. You groaned as you felt your phone vibrate in your purse, knowing it must have been Steve and Bucky. You had left in such a hurry, you knew they were worried about you. That was one thing you came to find out about them over the last two weeks; they were extremely protective of you.

Opening up your phone, you began to read the texts from them as you walked the few blocks home.

Steve: Let us know when you make it home sweetheart

Bucky: Doll are you alright? You left in such a hurry. Let us know you are safe.

Bucky: Why aren’t you answering your phone?

Steve: We are starting to get worried Rosie

Steve: Rosie answer your phone

Steve: Do we need to come over there?

Bucky: We are coming over if you don’t answer your phone!

The last text from Bucky was sent three hours ago. As you rounded the corner on the block where your apartment building was, you froze.

“Rosalie!” Steve yelled, both him and Bucky rushing towards you. You thanked whatever god was out there that you changed back into your normal clothes before leaving the club so they wouldn’t be suspicious of what you were wearing.

“Why didn’t you answer our calls? We were worried sick doll,” Bucky said, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You inhaled his manly smell, melting in his arms; feeling safe.

He pulled away and you moved to give Steve a hug, but his eyes grew wide as you stepped in the light of the street lamp.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Steve asked, anger lacing his voice as he gripped your chin, tilting your face towards the light. In the rush of trying to figure out what new songs you would have to dance to on Rock night at the club, and the new outfights you would have to prepare, you completely forgot about the bruise on your cheek. But in the chaos of it all, you had to admit, hearing Steve swear like that and get angry was a real fucking turn on.

“Oh, that umm, that happened at the club my friends and I went to,” you lied through your teeth, finding it harder and harder to lie to your soulmates the more time you spent with them.

Steve brushed his thumb over the bruise and you winced in pain. “Sorry sweetheart,” he said, placing a gentle kiss to your lips instead of the bruise. The kiss was too short for your liking, but it was what you needed in the moment. “Who did this to you?”

“I’ll kill them,” Bucky growled out as he saw the mark on your face.

“You guys, it’s fine. I’m fine, really. There were a lot of people dancing and I just got an elbow to the face. That’s all.”

The looks on their faces seemed like they weren’t buying your story, but they let it go for the time being.

“C’mon doll. Let’s go back to the compound. You can either stay with us or at the apartment across the hall.”

While all you wanted to do was sleep, being away from the city sounded like a dream right now. You didn’t have to go back to the club until Tuesday so you had the next couple of days off. Starting on Tuesday you would end up working five days straight at the club as they are closed on Sundays and Mondays; Tommy being extra nice and giving you Saturday night off.

“Can you just let me shower first and grab a bag of clothes?”

They walked you into the apartment building and as much as you wanted for them to stay outside by the car, they came in with you to your studio apartment. If you thought it was small before, it looked even more miniscule with Steve and Bucky standing in it.

“I’ll be right back,” you said with a shy smile before heading into your bathroom to take a shower.

~~~

“Something doesn’t seem right,” Steve said as he and Bucky stood in your small apartment, looking around.

Bucky sat down on your small twin bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he clasped his hands together. “I know Stevie. I think she’s lying to us about something. I knew we should have been tracking her.”

“Buck,” Steve sighed, sitting down beside him on the bed. “We can’t do that to her. If we do that, she’ll never trust us.”

“But if she’s lying about something….” Bucky trailed off.

“I know. But we just have to give her the benefit of the doubt and get her to open up to us more. I mean hell, last afternoon was pretty amazing,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Bucky shook the small bed with his laughter, placing his metal arm around Steve. “I know. And that was just the beginning. But we have to be gentle with her. She’s not built like you and I are. She’d bruise too easily if we were rough with her like we sometimes are.”

That comment made Steve groan, in pleasure, just thinking about being with you; his cock fully sheathed inside of your pussy; he couldn’t wait.

“What’s it like Buck? Being with a woman?”

“Oh Stevie. So much better than you would even think. They are so warm and wet and they taste amazing.” Both men started growing hard just thinking about being with you.

~~~

After shutting off the water, you wrapped a towel around yourself and began to dig around in your purse for some ibuprofen or Tylenol; anything to help with the pulsing pain of your cheek. Instead, you found a small packet of cocaine with the words ‘for the pain’ written in Tommy’s slopping writing on it.

Looking at the door, you fought with yourself about what to do. You never took cocaine home, you only used it at the club when you were working because you knew if you started taking it on a normal basis, you would become addicted and you didn’t want that. But the pain was starting to increase and you knew you wouldn’t get any rest if you didn’t take something.

Opening the small baggie, you dug your pinkie fingernail in and got a small amount. Bringing it up to your right nostril, you inhaled it, the white powder tickling your nose. Closing the bag, you placed it in the small pocket inside of your bag and cleaned off your nose.

Looking around, you noticed you didn’t have any clean clothes with you in the room. Shrugging, you opened the door; both Steve and Bucky quickly standing up from your bed. They had smirks on their faces when they saw you in just a towel. You chuckled, shaking your head as you grabbed a pair of clean panties and bra and heading back into the bathroom.

Changing into your underwear, you placed the towel on the rack and grabbed your purse, leaving the bag of your club clothes in the bathroom for the time being.

You could feel their eyes on your every move as you grabbed some clothes and put them into an overnight bag before getting dressed yourself.

“Ready?” you asked, turning to face them.

Steve grabbed your bag for you and the three of you headed out of your apartment. Bucky drove Tony’s car that you took, while you hopped in with Steve on the car he drove.

It was a half hour drive to the compound and you were feeling restless with the small hit of cocaine you took. Looking over at Steve, you smiled, remembering how he cussed in anger earlier and how turned on you got from it.

“You know Steve,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt and leaning over to him. “When you swore earlier, it really turned me on.”

You could see Steve’s adam apple bob in his throat from swallowing; his hands tightening on the steering wheel as you licked the shell of his ear.

“You did?” he groaned out as your tongue traced along his neck, your teeth nipping his skin.

“Mmmm, and I would like to repay you as a thank you.” Your hands moved down and into his sweatpants, feeling him already getting hard.

“Oh shit,” he moaned as you took him out of his sweatpants. You had to admit, Steve had a great sense of control as the car never wavered.

Without saying anything else, your head dipped down as your tongue began to swirl along his tip. Steve shuddered as his breath hitched. You teased him with a few more licks before taking his fully hardened cock into your mouth; moaning around him. This time you felt the car swerve to the side but you knew Steve wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.

Your hand gripped his base as he was too large to fit fully into your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, you pumped your hand in rhythm and you soon felt Steve’s own hand on your head. You knew he was someone who liked to take control and you wanted him to.

“Is this okay?” he asked through labored breaths.

“Mmmhmm,” you moaned around his cock, letting him know you were all for it.

He gripped your hair gently, bobbing you at the pace he wanted. You loved the sounds he was making and it wasn’t long until you felt his legs begin shake; his warm seed spilling in your waiting mouth. His grip on your hair lightened as you pulled up off of him just in time to see that Steve was pulling into the compound.

Steve parked the car before turning to look at you; a smile on his lips. He leaned forwards, placing his hand on your good check and kissed you with so much passion it made your toes curl. You both turned your heads, deepening the kiss but were soon interrupted by a knock on the window.

“You’re fogging up the windows,” Bucky said from outside.

You and Steve chuckled as Bucky opened your door, helping you out of the car. “Why does Stevie have a goofy grin on his face?”

Turning around, you giggled because sure enough, he did have a goofy grin on his face. “Oh that? It’s because I gave him road head.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide as he looked between you and Steve. “And I missed out?”

You threw your arms around Bucky’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Don’t worry. Your turn is next,” you said as you grabbed his hand and headed into the living quarters compound.

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somedayonbroadway · 4 years ago

Note

Picture this for angst: Titanic au.

Oh yikes...

Okay so… not gonna lie, I’d never seen Titanic until now.

I mean… obviously I knew how it ended and also knew that Jack could have survived if he’d tried a little harder. But no, it’s fine!

Anyways,

Titanic AU

TW: Major Character Death (obviously. This is the Titanic), suicidal thoughts, mentions of abuse

Characters

Jack Kelly — Jack Dawson

Katherine Plumber — Rose DeWitt Bukater

Racetrack Higgins — Fabrizio

Spot Conlon — Tommy Ryan

Medda Larkin — Molly Brown

Joseph Pulitzer — Ruth DeWitt Bukater

Morris Delancey — Cal Hockley

Crutchie Morris — Lizzy Calvert

William Randolph Hearst — Thomas Andrews

Albert DaSilva — Brock Lovett

So so…

In 1996, a group of treasure hunters are searching under the sea for the Titanic, where it had been said the Heart Of The Ocean might be found. Albert, the leader of the whole fiasco, has been searching for this particular diamond for three years, becoming nearly obsessed with the lost artifact and not truly understanding the history or weight behind The Titanic or why it’s important at all.

On this particular hunt, Albert and his crew manage to find a lost safe in one of the first class rooms of the ship. Believing they’ve hit the jackpot, they head for the surface with the safe and Albert can hardly contain his excitement.

Finally opening the thing up, much to his irritation, all they find is one single drawing. Albert’s right hand man, JoJo, assures him that something similar had happened to someone else and it had ruined his whole career.

But Albert takes the thing down to the lab anyways, getting the thing recovered.

When he can see the thing clearly, he finds a beautiful young woman wearing only a single necklace and nothing else. The picture is really detailed and good and it is signed “JK” and dated April 14, 1912, the day the Titanic went down.

The story of the findings is aired live on television.

One woman in particular sees the drawing on the news. She’s with her great grandson at the time. Despite his bum leg, he takes care of her. She asks him to turn the television up, so he does. She drops the tea that she’d been drinking. The cup shatters on the floor and she makes a mess but she stands up from her wheelchair anyway.

Because she recognizes that drawing.

With a newfound strength in her heart, the old woman calls Albert DaSilva.

On his boat, Albert nearly dismisses the call until JoJo convinces him that he should really pick up, telling him that the woman’s name is Katherine Kelly-Dawson. Finally doing it, Katherine asks Albert if he’s found The Heart of The Ocean. After a few quick questions, Katherine reveals that she is the woman in the drawing.

He invites Katherine to come aboard and sends a helicopter out for her the next day. His crew tries to tell him it may be a hoax, just some old woman wanting attention. They reveal that Katherine is 100, almost 101 years old, married a Spencer Dawson, had three kids and was working as an actress in her twenties. Regardless, Katherine and Crutchie board the ship and they find that Katherine travels with a suitcase full of pictures.

When she’s settled in a room on the boat, Albert confronts her and asks if he can get her anything and she replies she would just like to see her drawing. So Albert takes her to it. The moment she sees it, her eyes water.

She can still see those green eyes that looked at her like no one else ever had.

Albert describes the history of The Heart of The Ocean, to which she responds it was a heavy, dreadful thing that she’d only worn one time.

Crutchie asks Katherine if she’s sure. And she says she is, referring to herself as a “doll”. Crutchie’s never heard her talk like that before.

After explaining that, if what Katherine was saying was true, she would’ve been wearing the necklace the day the ship sunk, Albert asks what they can offer for the information of what happened to the necklace. She doesn’t ask for any money. She instead, only asks for the picture. Albert agrees and shows her some things they found in her stateroom on the Titanic.

There are very few things, but that doesn’t make the emotion of it any less controlling. A few tears fall and she trembles a bit, but JoJo asks her if she’s ready to go back to the Titanic.

They show her an animation of the titanic hitting the iceberg and beginning to sink. Katherine starts to get really tense and emotional, so Crutchie offers to take her back to her room. She refuses.

JoJo gives all the scientific analysis and Katherine realizes that they may know exactly what happened, but they seem to have forgotten that the sinking of The Titanic was completely devastating.

So she begins to tell a story.

She states that The Titanic was called the ship of dreams. And it was just that.

Young Katherine Pulitzer arrived to board the Titanic reluctantly, with her fiancé, one Morris Delancey, and her father, Joseph Pulitzer. Morris had been trying to impress Katherine for some time, but nothing worked. She never did really like him, but this was an arranged marriage. Morris insisted it could be love, but she was much more reluctant.

After all, she’d only been 17.

But Morris is rich and smart and confident and would make a proper husband and that’s really all that mattered.

Meanwhile, moments away, in a local pub in Southampton, a young boy was in the midst of a game that may well be changing his life in mere moments. He and his best friend, a very Italian Antonio Higgins whom he’d given the name of Racetrack, are playing poker for two tickets aboard the Titanic.

It’s a close call, but Jack plays a very lucky hand and ends up winning. After a brief celebration, they are told by the bartender that the ship is set to depart in merely five minutes.

So they run.

They barely make it aboard before the ship departs, convincing the crew that they’re both American and are in fact brothers. He doesn’t let Race talk at all, as to not give them away. Then they go up to the deck of the ship and wave at the people on the shore, though they have no one to bid farewell. Then they go down to find their room, greeting their roommates who are confused as to who they are. They end up making friends with one of them, who Race calls “Spot” because of a birthmark on his arm.

Katherine is unpacking in her suite, instructing some of the crew to set up some of her paintings around the room. Morris comments that these “mud puddles” were a waste of money, but Katherine insists they’re beautiful. Truth without logic. And she adores them. Katherine is a huge fan of art and has been a collector ever since she’d been a child. Morris assures her that Picasso will never amount to a thing and dismisses the conversation easily.

He’s not a very kind man. Katherine complains about him often, though she knows it’s improper and rude. Her father makes it clear that she must marry this man to save their status as they’ve lost all their money.

Katherine knows this.

That doesn’t mean she’s okay with it.

Jack and Racer are exploring the ship together, much like they would explore a city. It’s gorgeous. They end up at the front of the ship, Jack standing right up on the edge, shouting that he’s the king of the world, to which Race replies they’ll at least be the kings of New York when they arrive in America.

Katherine is stuck inside, having lunch with many important people on the ship, including the ship’s builder, Mr. Hearst and someone Katherine finds amusing and fun to be around, one Miss Medda Larkin. Many around here think her annoying or out of line, but Katherine adores her from the moment she lays eyes on her. It’s mostly because of the color of her skin that folks have issues with her. Medda is the only one that seems to notice how controlling Morris is when it comes to Katherine.

Katherine makes a point to sit beside her until she ultimately leaves the table after her father and fiancé ridicule her for smoking a cigarette.

Finally alone, she explores the ship, ending up on the front deck.

The moment Jack catches sight of her, he knows he wants to meet her. His friends tease him and tell him to let it go. But Jack can’t stop looking at her. Not even when another man comes up from behind her and takes her out of view.

Later that night, Katherine is struggling to keep her cool. She is not content with her life and knows that once she arrives in America, that will be it for her. She’ll have to marry Morris and she goes to dinner and she meets important, rich people. While they’re eating, she presses her fork into her skin, drawing blood.

It’s only then that she realizes what she wants to do.

The moment she can, she runs.

Somehow she ends up at the back of the ship, though she doesn’t manage to get there without drawing attention to herself. Specifically the attention of a teenage artist who happened to be stargazing all alone when she rushed past him in tears, thinking no one else was still up at this hour.

As she swings her legs over the railing of the ship and readies herself to jump, a voice stops her and she gets even more frightened. Jack just talks to her, telling her that hanging off the boat like that’s dangerous as he takes off his coat and socks, explaining that he has to be ready to jump in after her. She tries to tell him the fall will kill him. He tells her that he’s not so much worried about the fall as the freezing cold water. She asks him just how cold.

And they start having a conversation. Jack tells her a story about falling through ice back in Wisconsin after ice skating with his father. He tells her it’s so cold, you can hardly think or breathe.

He promised her even still that if she jumps, he jumps too.

Eventually, she gets scared down and turns back to Jack finding their faces inches from each other.

Just as she’s gonna step back over, she slips.

Jack barely catches her. He promised her he won’t let go and that she needs to grab the railing and pull herself up.

Terrified, she listens, letting Jack pull her back over. She lands beneath him and her dress rips.

What they didn’t know is that when Katherine screamed, people came running.

When security sees Jack hovering over Kath like he was, they naturally assume he was taking advantage of her and he wordlessly let’s them pull him up, knowing his words hold no weight. He lets them out cuffs around his wrists as Morris rushes up to Katherine and helps her up. He then backhands Jack and yells at him for thinking he could touch his fiancé.

And Katherine pushes Morris away, quickly explaining that she had been leaning over the ship too far to see the propellers and had fallen over and Jack caught her just in time.

Morris apologizes to Jack only barely and Jack is released. Morris’s brother, Oscar, tells Morris that surely he must do something to repay Jack so Morris offers Jack twenty bucks. This does not please Katherine. So Morris invites Jack to dinner the next night.

As they’re walking away, Oscar comments that it’s interesting that Katherine fell so suddenly but Jack still had time to remove his coat and socks.

Once they get Katherine back in their room, Morris gives Katherine a very heavy, very expensive necklace to try and cheer her up. It doesn’t work. Morris is just trying to prove his wealth to her. That doesn’t mean she loves him.

The necklace is the heart of the sea. But Katherine doesn’t care.

The next day Katherine finds Jack on the ship, talking with Race who’s trying to woo some girl. They talk and Katherine tries to thank him, but Jack makes it slightly difficult. He’s nice enough but Katherine gets defensive and they bud heads. Jack tells her that if she didn’t like her life, she could change it. She doesn’t have a response. She won’t tell Jack that she doesn’t love Morris. Jack tells her she can leave but she counters him telling him he should leave until eventually she ends up stealing his sketchbook out from beneath his arm, telling him he probably isn’t that good until she sees his drawings that take her breath away.

He tells her that he’s been drawing ever since he could hold a pencil and the pictures he draws are of real life. She asks what was with all the naked women and he’d say he’d been in Paris and a lot of women didn’t mind taking off their clothes for him. He tells her stories about some of them, explaining that the one she called him “infatuated with” was a one legged prostitute.

Katherine comments that he really does see people, to which Jack responds he saw her and knew she wouldn’t have jumped.

Meanwhile Medda was trying to have a nice time with Katherine’s father and other rich folks on the ship who don’t necessarily like her around them. She manages to stick by them anyways as they go for a walk around the ship.

Jack and Katherine continue to talk about their dreams. Katherine always dreamed of being a reporter, chasing a story all on her own. Jack says she wouldn’t last two days as a reporter in New York, living in a crummy apartment with no hot water. She slaps his arms, telling him to stop dismissing her dreams like everyone else. So he does.

Jack promises to take her to Santa Fe and teach her how to ride a horse and then to California where they can ride a rollercoaster. He promises to travel the world with her and show her the seven wonders of the world (can’t wait for eight and nine) and she agrees to all of it, laughing with him, happy for the first time in a long time.

Jack loves hearing her laugh.

Then he takes her hand and they run around the ship. Jack tries to teach Katherine how to spit “like a man”, and she tries.

That it’s, until she hears her father behind her.

She’s pulled away and everyone looks at Jack like he’s got two heads. He’s used to everyone thinking he’s crazy. He’s never minded it.

When Pulitzer takes Katherine away, Medda asks Jack if he knows what the hell he's doing and Jack replies honestly that he has no idea. So Medda would take him and get him a change of clothes.

When she’s done with him, Jack looks like a perfect gentleman.

He goes to dinner, sticking close to Medda who knows how to behave at these sorts of functions whereas he does not.

Jack escorts both Katherine and Medda to dinner (which is honestly freaking adorable).

Throughout the whole dinner, Morris is belittling Jack but Jack ignores him completely, focusing all his energy on trying to make Katherine smile.

Once the dinner’s done, Morris and Pulitzer and the other men at the table excuse themselves, inviting Jack who declines. Morris says it was a good choice as it would be nothing interesting to him anyways. Politics and stuff like that.

Jack has to hold back an eye roll.

He excuses himself, kissing Katherine’s hand and passing her a note to meet him at the clock and make it count.

So she does.

And Jack asks her if she’s ever wondered what a real party looks like.

He takes her to one.

It’s down below. Everyone is drunk. Race has struck up many games of poker and other drinking games and has started everyone off dancing. Jack gets them a drink and is shocked at how well Katherine can hold her liquor. She says it’s nothing.

Jack dances around with a little girl, this sweet little six or seven year old (Smalls) and Katherine asks if she can cut in. Jack promises Smalls that she’s still his best girl and teaches Katherine how to blend in when neither of them know the dance.

Eventually, after mingling a little, Katherine shows men what real pain feels like by going up on point completely barefoot.

They don’t see Oscar catching sight of them all.

Jack walks her back to her part of the ship and Katherine explains to her that everyone in her crowd are so small and Jack tells her she must’ve been mailed to the wrong address.

They see a shooting star. Jack tells Katherine that it’s a soul flying up to heaven.

He tells Katherine to make a wish.

She tells him it’s no use and leaves, though Jack doesn’t want her to.

The next morning, Morris goes off on Katherine, scolding her for behaving at that party as she did. He slaps her and leaves, knocking their breakfast onto the floor. Katherine tries to apologize to the maid and clean up, but the maid assures her it’s alright.

Later, Pulitzer demands Katherine never see Jack again reminding her once again that their money’s gone.

Jack tries to catch Katherine after church, but is sent away, though he tries to explain he was there last night and is a friend of Katherine.

Jack goes back to his friends who tell him to let it go. Race just wants him to remember where they stand in the food chain, but Jack doesn’t care.

He sneaks over to see Katherine anyway, stealing a coat and a hat to fit in and then grabbing Katherine's arm while she’s out for a walk and pulling her into an empty room.

He tells her he can’t leave her alone unless he knows she’ll be alright. So she assures him she will be and that it’s not his job to save her and he agrees, telling her that only she can do that.

She asks Jack to leave her alone and goes to rejoin her group.

Later she gets out of tea with her father by accidentally spilling some on herself and she finds Race who tells her that Jack is up at the front of the ship.

When she gets to him, Jack acts like nothing ever happening to begin with. He tells her to step up on the railing and close her eyes, promising that he’s got her. He wraps his arms around her waist and tells her to leg go and open her eyes, so she does.

She’s flying.

Jack holds her tight and let’s her fly. And he sings to her.

They stay there till the sunsets and then Jack and Katherine walk around the ship, just talking and having fun until Jack asks what’s up with her necklace and she tells him she wants him to draw her like one of his French girls wearing it.

And nothing else.

He just grins.

They run back to Katherine’s room and get to work after she pays him a dime for his work. She lays out on the couch and Jack admires her as he draws her perfectly. Katherine notes that he’s blushing and he just chuckles.

When he’s done, he dates and signs it and she puts the picture and her necklace in her safe with a note for Morris telling him that now he can keep them both locked in his safe and just as she and Jack might move further into their romance, someone unlocks the door. Oscar.

Katherine and Jack are then on the run.

Jack doesn’t let go of Katherine’s hand the whole time.

Eventually, they end up down at the bottom of the ship in someone else’s car and they definitely have sex whole half the ship is up searching for Katherine. They don’t find her. At least, not for a while.

When Jack and Kath eventually make it back to the deck, they catch the attention of the lookouts who realize moments later the whole ship is headed straight towards an iceberg. Katherine promises Jack that she’ll be getting off the ship with him and they can run away together.

When the ship hits, Katherine and Jack were dancing under the stars. Jack has to pull Kath away to avoid getting hit by the ice.

Everyone thinks it’s just a close call.

Eventually, after realizing the damage is worse than they thought, Jack and Katherine go to see Pulitzer and Morris, hand in hand and prepared to come clean, only for Morris to insist that he’d been robbed as Oscar plants The Heart of the Ocean in Jack’s pocket.

Jack screams for Katherine to believe him as they drag him away, calling him a criminal and she can’t speak, not knowing what to do.

They take him down further beneath the ship and Oscar handcuffs him to some of the pipes. Jack knows he can’t get out.

When the ship starts sinking, he starts to panic.

Everyone in first class is told to get their life straps on and climb up to the deck. They do. Women and children are told to get on the lifeboats. Katherine recalls that there aren’t enough boats to get half the passengers off safety. Without thinking anymore, she goes to find Jack.

She runs into Hearst who tells her the ship’s going to sink and then tells her how to get to Jack.

When she finds Jack, Jack is alone, screaming for help because the water is rising and he can’t get out and he just doesn’t want to drown. He hears Katherine calling for him. She finds him and kisses him and tells him how sorry she is.

Then he tells her to get help because he needs the cuffs off. No one is willing to help them, so Katherine grabs an ax and runs back to Jack. After some not so promising test swings they manage to break the cuffs and run, finding their way to Race and Spot whoa really arguing with the man who has the entire lower class on the ship locked behind a gate, not allowing them to get to the surface.

Spot is trying to argue, saying there are women and children down here too but no one’s listening.

Morris goes back for the necklace which he puts in his pocket before trying to find a ship that will let him board. He bribes a crewman for passage on a lifeboat and is about to board the thing when Oscar tells him he found Katherine and she’s with Jack. Morris is torn, but rushes to find Katherine.

Jack and his friends try to find another way out, resorting to grabbing a small bench and ramming it into the locked doors and letting the lower class people out so they’d have a chance.

Jack tries to get Katherine on a boat, only convincing her when Morris finds them and helps Jack lie about having bribed someone on the other side of the ship after giving Katherine his coat. Jack goes along with it, trying to keep Katherine safe. But she jumps back on board after they begin to lower the boat.

He jumps, she jumps.

When Jack rushes down to her they run and Morris realizes he left the necklace in his coat which Katherine now wears. Morris sends Oscar after them with a gun.

Oscar tries to kill them. Eventually, Jack gets the upper hand. But Morris grabs the gun and chases them.

Jack and Katherine are forced to run down where they once again get trapped behind a gate. The man with the key to their release throws it into the water and Jack only manages to find the things and unlock the door just in the nick of time.

Race and Spot are trying to fight for their right to live with nervous security who end up accidentally shooting Spot. He dies in Race’s arms. Race takes his life vest and kisses him on the head as he goes.

Morris finds an abandoned child and uses her to get a seat on a lifeboat, abandoning Katherine and Jack and Oscar all at the same time.

Oscar jumps overboard and dies on impact. Race gets crushed by part of the ship. Hearst resigns himself to dying in the grand entrance of the first class cabins.

But Jack and Katherine keep going. Jack says they have to stay on the ship for as long as possible. So they do. He holds her hand the whole time.

The ship is sideways. They’ve climbed to the top and are on the other side of the railing. Katherine comments that this is where they first met and Jack kisses her deeply before explaining to her what they have to do once the ship goes under. Kick for the surface. Hold her breath and kick for the surface.

Katherine emerges but Jack doesn’t. Not right away. Someone grabs at her, nearly dragging her under until Jack finds her and fights the guy off, helping Katherine swim over to the wreckage and helping her up on a piece of the boat that’s still floating.

(Okay, look guys… they both could have survived that day, alright? But it makes for a much less dramatic ending and even though myth busters proved it could’ve worked, were sticking to the script here)

There’s only room for one of them.

So Jack floats beside her and holds her hand, shivering but talking nonetheless.

Jack tries to tell Katherine that the boats will come back for them, though they both know it’s a lie. Katherine tells Jack that she loves him and he tries to tell her not to say her goodbyes. But he ends up telling her he loves her too.

Jack makes Katherine promise him that she’ll survive. That she’ll grow old. That she’ll make it.

And she does.

He asks her to promise that she’ll never let him go.

And she does.

Hours later, Katherine is delirious. She’s still gripping at Jack’s freezing hand, laying on her back and watching the sky.

A shooting star crosses it.

That’s when she hears someone calling for survivors. She calls for Jack, telling him they’d made it. He doesn’t respond.

No matter how hopeless she was, she had made him a promise. Even though it pained her through and through, she did what she had to, turning to the boy… the man that her heart and soul would forever belong to, and telling him that she’d never let go, as she lets his body fall beneath the surface of the ocean. She sobs as she watches him go.

But she swims over to a dead body nearby, grabbing a whistle and blowing it as loud as she can.

And they come back for her.

In 1996, the entire crew is staring at her in shock, including Crutchie who has never heard this whole story. Katherine explains that she saw Morris one more time but did not make contact and last she heard, he’d taken his own life when the depression hit America.

After that, she’d lost Jack. she began to introduce herself as Katherine Kelly, believing Jack was now her guardian angel, which he was.

She made contact with Medda who grieved with her for a boy they’d never get to see again.

Katherine explains to Albert and his crew that Jack Kelly had no records. So no one knew he existed. He lived only in her memory until Medda had brought her a picture one day.

A sketch of one Jack Kelly, done by a professional.

Then, the old woman reaches into her purse, the one she’d always carried, and she pulls out an old piece of paper, showing her great grandson and Albert the smiling face of her guardian angel, the one that was watching over them at that very moment. She’d tell them that every time she felt an ocean breeze pass her by, she knew it was just Jack laughing.

Jack had saved her in every way a person could be saved.

Katherine went on to live a great life. She’d met her husband, Specs, she’d ridden a rollercoaster, a horse, she’d explored New York and even published a few articles herself. And all of it was because of Jack.

Crutchie takes Katherine back to her room that night.

And Katherine wakes up hours later, walking barefoot to the back of the ship, admiring a shiny blue necklace. The Heart of The Ocean. And then she drops it in, smoking as she watches it leave.

The next night, warm in her bed, Katherine’s heart gives out. Charlie watches a shooting star cross the sky.

Jack is waiting for Katherine when she opens her eyes. He’s waiting for her by the clock. And Katherine meets him right on time, suddenly seventeen again. Forever and eternity.

And she’s with Jack again.

And everything’s okay.

For more Mood Boards and AUs, check out my list

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xmalereader · 5 years ago

Text

Tommy Shelby X Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

@faire-semblant-dange

Request: pls pls pls can we get a tommy shelby and male reader fic?? hes like a huge comfort character for me and ive been having like some super bad depression recently. it would mean so much to have a comforting tommy fic to read or smth, but pls dont stress if you cant do it ;; i rlly look forward to hearing your response !

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, slight kissing

The weeks have been colder and winter was slowly approaching. Y/n had been spending his time taking care of Charlie while tommy was out doing some business with some other mobs or with his brothers. He usually stayed out of sight since none of Tommy’s family know that they are together. Yes, they know who he is but they don’t know that they have been dating this whole time.

After being together for almost three years and in secret, y/n has been a second father to Charlie and had been visiting more often to the point that tommy had offered him a room of his own. He knew that y/n wanted to take there relationship slow since he wasn’t used to the whole guy on guy thing quiet yet. They took there time together but as the years went by he was able to share a bed with tommy now.

Y/n knew the dangerous things that tommy did and he didn’t mind it. He couldn’t force tommy to stop doing something that he sort of liked doing. He wasn’t like that, he’s usually staying out of tommy’s way when he’s up to something dangerous.

The cold winter days are usually spent with him indoors with Charlie and and visiting the stables, he helps charlie feed the horses and make sure that they have enough water and food before tommy sent them off to the races. He would sometimes stay longer and clean up their areas so that they had would have a clean space, he cared a lot for the horses that he would do anything for them.

Charlie smiles softly as he watched y/n clean the horses pelt with a brush as he hums a song to himself. “Y/n, you sing very nicely.” Charlie blurts out from his spot that he was standing on. Y/n froze and blushed under his coat as he turns to Charlie and smiled. “Thank you Charlie but I’m not a good singer, I just like to hum to music that I like.” He answers back as he shoveled up the mud that was created inside the stables and dumps it into a bucket and wipes his sweat. Charlie only tilts his head in questioning, “But I’ve heard you sing to father once, I think he was feeling ill that day and you went into his office to cheer him up with a song.”

Y/n knows what Charlie was talking about.

That day, tommy came home all beaten up that he could even breath. Y/n remembers dragging tommy to his office and closing the door as he lied him down on the couch. He would check his wounds and place some bandages on him as he tried to fix him up but tommy kept fusing and moving around. Saying, how he didn’t have time to get fixed up but y/n could only glare and shout at him to hold still and to let him place the bandages on him.

Tommy did’t refuse after that, not when y/n had yelled at him that harshly and he knew not to mess with y/n when he’s helping.

Y/n would rub the blood off his scars and sing to tommy, he knew that it was a girly thing to do but his own mother would always sing to him when he was either upset or ill so y/n did the same thing for tommy when he would go through a hard time. He would sing a soft song in German.

Once y/n had finished with bandages he noticed how tommy had fallen asleep to the tone of his voice.

That was a month ago.

“It’s a lullaby that I like to sing.” Y/n answers to Charlie as he smiled and hears the sound of a car approaching their home. He looks up with a frown to see Tommy stumbling out of the car and slamming the door. He looked frightened and pale. y/n took this as a bad sign and hands Charlie the shovel. “Charlie think you can finish cleaning up for me? I’m going to go check up on your father.” He takes his gloves off and leaves charlie to finish up as he heads back home.

“Y/N?!”

He hears shouting from inside the house as he enters the place with a frown, he hears his yelling and shouting as one of the maids tries to calm him down. “Mr. Shelby!” The maid says out in shock as she watched him slam doors, searching for y/n.

“What’s going on?” Y/n asks as they maid gasps in shock and lets out a breath of relief. “Mr. Shelby is looking for you sir, and it doesn’t look quiet happy.” She responds as y/n frowns. “Don’t worry I can handle this, do me a favor and check up on Charlie, he’s outside in the stables and taking care of the horses.” He instructs as he watched her scurry off. Y/n turns back to face the stairway only to see Tommy at the top, panting as he grips the railing. “Tommy, what has gotten into you? The maids are frightened what happened?” He asks as he walks up the stairs to face tommy.

“They know...” he breaths out as y/n stops.

“Know what?”

“My family, my brothers, aunt Polly, they know about us.”

Y/n’s eyes widen as he stared at tommy, not because he was afraid but because he knew that this was Tommy’s biggest fear. He knew that tommy feared about his family finding out about them since he was considered the leader of the family and they looked up to him, he’s seen it with his own eyes. He’s seen the way that everyone looks at tommy; compasssion, leadership, a man with a plan.

But today tommy didn’t have a plan.

He was scared and feared of losing y/n forever, for the first time in his life he’s been happy. He was happy to come home to see y/n with a bright smile on his face and together with charlie. He always brightened his day.

“Y/n what...what do I do..?” He pants out as y/n steps up to wrap him in a hug, he could only hold tommy close as he whispered soft words in his ear. He pulls him down to the floor where he could hold him better. He gently ran his fingers through his hair and sighs. “tommy breath...” He instructs as he kissed the top if his head, “you need to calm down, don’t worry...” he continued to whisper as he allowed tommy to relax against him and hold his free hand.

“Tommy...look at me.” Y/n lifts tommy’s head up but he refused to look at his partner. “Thomas look at me.” He uses his full name this time as Thomas finally looks up come face to face with y/n. “Now you listen to me.” He begins to say.

“No matter what happens or what they say, I am always going to stick with you. It doesn’t matter if they look down to me. But reamember this, you, Thomas Shelby, will always be the man that I know. You have done so much for me tommy, you’ve given me a home, a family, happiness and love.” He continues on as tommy lets out a shuddering breath. “I will stick with you tommy because from what I know, you would do the same for me.”

Tommy could only chuckle softly as he was finally relaxing. “Remember when I was going through a hard time too? I was lonely and depressed, didn’t have the energy to even work and kept myself Locked up in my room.” He began to remind him as he leans back against the wall with tommys back against his chest. “You came to me and forced me out of bed and forced me to at least eat something...After that you remained in bed with me for the whole day and even if something important came up you would send Arthur to do the job for you. I really appreciated that, and in return I want to do the same thing.”

Y/n smiled at he looks down at Thomas to see him looking back at him. Y/n could only giggle as he leans down to kiss him on the lips. Smiling against them as he softly mumbles. “Guess its time to meet the family properly correct?” He asks as tommy smiled back. “To hell with what they say, even if they are me family. I am willing to do anything for you.” He mumbled back against his lips.

Y/n nods, I’d do the same thing for you.”

The two stayed leaning against each other for the rest of the night, talking softly and exchanging encouraging words. They even had the maid bring there food to the stairway as they ate in happiness and quietly.

(( I just noticed that it was suppposed to be the reader getting comfort from tommy and instead wrote it the other way around so I’m sorry if it’s something that you didn’t ask for! ))

#male reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x male reader #thomas shelby #male x male #peaky blinders x male reader #imagine

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raywritesthings · 5 years ago

Text

Out of the Dark

My Writing Fandom: Arrow, The Flash Characters: Laurel Lance, Barry Allen, Oliver Queen, Sara Lance, Adam Donner, Thea Queen, Felicity Smoak, John Diggle Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: On his way to the train station out of Starling City, Barry Allen comes across a Laurel Lance who has reached her breaking point. An offer of friendship changes the course of events in unexpected ways. Notes: WARNING - Suicide Attempt and Discussion of Suicide. If you or someone you know is feeling suicidal, especially as the holidays approach, please don’t hesitate to reach out, whether to a friend or a professional or an organization. The International Bipolar Foundation, for instance, contains a list of suicide hotlines for a number of different countries on their website. *Can be read on my AO3 and FFN, links are in my bio*

A small commotion near the entrance of the offices caused Laurel to look up, the first time she’d done so since arriving that day and most of the preceding week. Keeping your head down after losing a huge case was standard protocol, after all.

“Adam! Good to see you!”

“On your feet already?”

“This is just a visit,” said Adam Donner, her immediate superior. “I wanted to let you all know I was doing fine before the holidays.”

The holidays? It was really that time already, wasn’t it? She’d completely forgotten. Not that it mattered much; she had no plans.

Laurel stood, smoothing down her skirt as she went to join the small crowd of her coworkers. As awkward as things had turned the previous month with the dinner they had shared, she didn’t want him to think she was upset to see him recovered from the Count’s attack. “Adam, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks, Laurel. Hey, uh, good try on the case.”

Her attempt at a smile turned to a grimace. Every time she thought of Moira Queen’s trial it brought a queasy mix of emotions. Frustration, guilt, relief and even confusion.

“It was open and shut,” a voice near the back of the crowd muttered and a titter of laughter went around the room. There was the shame in that mix, too.

Of all the things she had left to hang onto, it was her skill at her job. And she had let an accomplice to the murder of 503 people walk. It didn’t matter that a part of her was glad; the law had required her to do her job and she had failed. They all knew it.

“I hear Queen’s having a big party for his mother tonight. Figures they’d want to gloat,” said another coworker.

“It’s not to gloat, it’s just their holiday tradition,” Laurel couldn’t help disputing. Oliver would never do something that brazen, at least, not the Oliver who had come back the previous year from that island.

“Yeah? Guessing you didn’t get an invite this year.”

Another round of laughter went up.

“Alright people,” Kate Spencer’s voice announced her arrival. “Adam, thanks for coming in. My office, we’ll talk about the next assignments coming through.” Their boss walked away, not even sparing Laurel a glance. Kate had never liked her, even back when Laurel had been at CNRI.

She returned to her own desk, trying to shut out the whispers that followed, that had been following her the last several days. Why had the Count chosen Adam of all people to attack? Why couldn’t he have been the one to question Moira on the stand, to help shoulder some of this failure?

Or maybe he wouldn’t have failed. That thought seized her heart in an icy grip. Then Oliver and Thea would be planning a memorial service instead of a party. Neither of which she would ever be welcome at again.

She understood. How could either of the siblings want anything to do with her after what had happened in the courtroom? Even if Oliver had checked on her after, that was probably just out of courtesy. They’d promised to stay in each other’s lives — he’d promised to never leave even when that was all he ever did — but it couldn’t stand something like what she’d done. It was better that he just give up now. She’d rather just get it over with.

Laurel worked until it was dark. It was mostly just moving folders around and filing notes. She hadn’t been given anything serious to do since the Queen case, and she doubted she would be for some time. She’d joined the DA’s office because she’d seen it as her best way forward after losing CNRI, but each day it grew harder to get out of bed in the morning. Once the people who shared the open floor in her office had all signed out and left for the night, she got out the bottle she kept in her desk. It was easier to just have it on hand, especially since her father had been snooping into her business and was on a first name basis with almost any bartender in Starling City. Even if he was conveniently forgetting why that was in his pursuit to police his own daughter.

Why couldn’t he understand what she was going through? If anyone should, it would be him. She hadn’t seen him since that bizarre visit he had made to her apartment going on about her becoming a parent some day. Laurel snorted before finishing her glass. Like that was happening anytime soon. Or ever.

Kate’s door opened and Laurel hastily stashed the bottle away, almost fumbling the cap. Adam was the only one who emerged, and he blinked in surprise at her.

“Burning the midnight oil? It’s nearly Christmas.”

“Crime never sleeps.”

“Yeah, but you should. Come on, you can walk me out.”

With little room to say no, Laurel stood, hesitating when he held out her coat for her to step into. She couldn’t exactly snatch it from his hands, however, so she let him help her with it.

“There should be a taxi waiting for me. Doctors say I should wait a few more days before operating heavy machinery,” he told her. “Do you need a lift?”

“No, thank you.” Laurel hadn’t brought her car — after being stopped by that cop, she was a little leery of driving — but she did not want to confine herself to small quarters with Adam.

He favored her with an understanding smile. “Hey, we all have our early losses. It’ll all blow over. We’ll find something new to work on.”

Laurel nodded with a tight smile. A taxi pulled up to the curb.

“This is me.” He leaned to the side of her then, and she jerked back just as his lips barely brushed her cheek.

“Sorry.” Why was she apologizing?

“No, that’s alright. I didn’t mean — well, it’s the holidays. Merry Christmas, Laurel.”

She couldn’t answer him, her mind stuck on a Christmas only a year ago where a different man had kissed her cheek and wished her well for the holidays. It didn’t feel like a year ago; it felt like an age.

The taxi honked, and Adam got inside. It pulled away, leaving her out in the cold.

Laurel started walking, though not back to her apartment. She didn’t feel like going back there right away, disgusted as she was with herself. How many times had she represented women who felt uncomfortable in their workplace because of coworkers or superiors, and now here she was stuck in the same trap? Too scared to say anything for fear of losing the only purpose she had left. Assuming she would ever be given anything of purpose again. Her mind was chasing itself around in circles.

She didn’t want Mrs. Queen to be dead, but she wanted the city to feel that justice had been done. She wanted justice for Tommy.

But then, Moira Queen hadn’t helped to kill Tommy. Tommy was only gone because of her. Even her father hadn’t disagreed with her about that. He hadn’t said a word.

Laurel sagged against the railing she’d been using off and on to support herself. It was only now that she realized she was on the footpath of one of their bridges, heading towards the Glades. Maybe she could sneak into the Verdant for a drink while Thea and Oliver were both celebrating with their family and friends. Her father probably wouldn’t find out if she’d been there.

Was this what her life was now? Skirting around the corners of the people she knew and cared for? Stuck on the outside while they moved on with their lives? They wanted her to be happy like them, but she just couldn’t be. What was wrong with her?

Her hands found a little latch, and she stared at it for a moment. Someone had hitched a lock onto part of the railing. There were a few of them, actually. One was painted with a fading heart.

Oh. She remembered hearing about these. Love locks. She studied each one intently. Some were plain, some had pairs of initials written or painted on them. Little mementos to love that these people had.

She thought of Tommy, his declaration and the suitcase he’d packed anyway. She thought, too, of a tear-stained letter sitting in a drawer at her apartment. Never doubt my love for you. Oh, but she did.

Oliver had called her a hero, but he could see now she wasn’t. When had she ever really saved anyone? It was always someone else coming in, having to help her. The Hood, who probably hated her; her father, who was disappointed in her; Tommy, who had died because of her.

“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” she whispered to no one. Her head rested on the rail and she stared for a while at the water rushing by below. There was something almost hypnotic about it, knowing where it flowed out into the bay and joined the ocean, to the same water that had swallowed up Sara. The daughter who had died while she was the daughter who lived.

Lived instead of Sara, lived instead of Tommy. And for what? It would’ve been better for her to perish in the quake, or maybe at the prison riot or when the Triad had attacked her home, so she wouldn’t have broken Tommy’s heart. Maybe she should have been the one on that boat so her mother wouldn’t have felt so guilty and left, so her dad would still have his baby girl and not felt such a need to drink, so she wouldn’t be carrying this terrible guilt and loneliness within her heart.

She’d been drowning all these years anyway in those swirling dark depths.

Laurel lifted her head from the rail. The night air was whipping her hair around her face, but it was as if the chill couldn’t touch her now. Could she really just…?

What else did she have to lose? She swallowed, the film of alcohol feeling thick on her tongue. What left was there? She could wait around and let herself be shunned out of the DA’s office by Kate Spencer and her disapproving looks or by Adam when she turned him down one too many times. She could wait for her father’s mood to turn sour towards her again, as it always did ever since the Gambit had sunk. She could wait until Oliver felt like trying to talk to her again, those quick little bursts in between days or weeks of nothing, like she was a pot on the stove he checked every once in a while to make sure it didn’t boil over.

She was tired of waiting for things. Tired of everything. Laurel couldn’t see any other way forward, not on this cold December night.

It didn’t even enter her mind to leave a note. No one would find it for days, probably. And they just wouldn’t understand. Oliver had fought all those years to survive and come home. There was something I wanted more. He didn’t want her anymore. No one did. How would he understand her choice?

They could all pretend she had just slipped away quietly from the city. No body, no need for her dad to pay the funeral expenses. He was making less on a beat cop’s salary. Better for him not to have to buy the land for another empty grave. Better for everyone. It was her Christmas present to them all; not to have to deal with her anymore.

She stepped onto the lower half of the rail, her left heel getting caught in the spokes. Growling under her breath, she wriggled her foot around, trying to free it. She couldn’t take the shoe off: evidence.

Her hands gripped the rail, pulling herself up. The water was a roar in her ears drowning out everything. Even a distant shout.

“Hey!”

Laurel closed her eyes.

And then she was abruptly seized from behind.

—-

Barry was running late, as always.

After Captain Singh’s rather pointed phone call, he had left Felicity behind at Queen Consolidated to try and catch a train out to Central. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to make it, especially since he’d so far failed at flagging down the few taxis he’d spotted. Hardly anyone was out tonight, and why would they be? It was late, dark and cold, and the holidays were nearly upon them.

Barry was forced to revise his statement as he drew up to an intersection leading to a bridge. There was someone else out tonight besides him after all. A woman, standing at the railing and looking out at the water. Actually, she was very close to the rail. Almost too close.

She put her foot up onto it, and it clicked in his brain.

“Oh no,” Barry said to himself, and then he started running, his suitcase forgotten.

“Hey!”

The woman didn’t even startle at his shout. She was half leaned over the rail already.

With a burst of speed he hadn’t thought himself capable of and a stitch developing in his side, Barry cleared the footpath and raced down to the middle of the bridge. He did the first thing he could think of, which was to throw his arms around her middle.

It was maybe the wrong move.

Immediately she tried throwing him off her with a surprising amount of strength for someone so thin. It was all he could do to hold on so as to keep her from toppling over.

“Let go!”

“Sorry, really don’t want to do that!”

An elbow smashed into his face, narrowly missing his nose where it no doubt would have broken it. Barry staggered back but managed to keep his grip on the woman, with which his leverage was able to do the rest. She came off the rail, falling in a heap on top of him as he landed on his back in the footpath.

Her head lifted, eyes bleary and bloodshot. “What? Who- who are you?”

“Are you okay?” Barry asked once he got his breath back. He struggled to sit up. “Well, no, you’re not. But I meant, you’re not hurt?”

Her head shook slowly. Her breath smelled of alcohol, and he could tell now looking at her facial structure that she really was too thin.

“Can you tell me your name? I’m Barry,” he added, figuring it was best he went first.

“Laurel,” she answered.

“Laurel,” he repeated, “hi. Can you, um, tell me what you were doing out here? I mean why you wanted to…” Barry cringed at his own inability to say it, but her eyes followed his to the bridge railing.

“I, um. I was just…”

Like a switch went off in her brain, she was suddenly clinging to him desperately.

“I don’t know what I was— I don’t want to die, oh God!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he did his best to reassure her. Truthfully he felt incredibly relieved she’d come to that decision on her own.

“I don’t want to die, I just- I just wanted everything to stop,” she cried into his coat. Barry rubbed at her back and tried to think of something more meaningful to say.

“I’m sorry things are — well, you’re clearly having a rough time. Can I get you to somewhere? A family member or, or maybe the hospital?”

“No.” She shook her head and clutched onto him tighter. “I can’t— if my job found out, they’d put me on leave or suspend me. And I can’t put this on my father, I can’t.”

“Okay,” he agreed, hoping to calm her. “We don’t have to go anywhere.” She was shivering in his arms, though. “Maybe just somewhere to sit down? Come on.”

Barry helped her up and kept their arms linked as they walked off the bridge and back to the intersection. His suitcase had fallen onto its side, so he righted it and started wheeling it along behind them.

“Don’t you need to find a hotel?” She asked quietly, her voice sounding thick but her tears at last subsiding.

“No. Actually, I was on my way home.”

She looked back in the direction of the train station. “But you’ll miss the last one.”

“I probably already did. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

He walked them around in circles a few times before finding a tiny cafe with their ‘open’ sign still lit up. Barry ushered her inside and to a table. He ordered a black coffee for her and a latte for himself, figuring she needed about as much caffeine as possible to fully sober up. She didn’t complain when he passed it to her, at the least, just cupped her hands around it and stared into the dark liquid.

“How much was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She frowned didn’t argue. He must have been firm enough, or maybe she was just too overwhelmed with the choice she’d almost made. The latter sounded more believable.

Barry sat and sipped at his latte, watching for her to do the same with her coffee. She grimaced as it went down.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not the worst cup I’ve had,” she remarked. Then her lip trembled and she grabbed a napkin to wipe at her eyes with. “God, you must think I’m a basket case. You really don’t have to stay with me.”

“Well, I think someone should,” he told her honestly. “And you won’t go to your family, so it may as well be a friend.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to be my friend.”

“I feel like there’s gotta be someone in your life who would tell you that’s not true.”

She placed her coffee down and rubbed her hands over both temples. “The people in my life...they come and go when they feel like it. Or, um, when they need something. And I finally got sick of it, so I just pushed them all away. It’s not really their fault,” she added when he opened his mouth. “I’m not an easy person to be around, I guess. I’m emotional, clingy, stubborn. I take on more than I can handle, and then I need rescuing.”

“Have they said that?”

“Not in that many words. But I know there’s something wrong with me.” She said it so matter-of-factly it stunned him. Then, past the shock there was pain. How could someone have become so convinced of something like that?

“Would you still believe that once you’re sober?”

She exhaled on a shaky laugh. “I wish I could say no. I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done, well, that either. But I have a problem. I do, I can’t just ignore it anymore.”

“You said you wanted everything to stop,” Barry reminded her. “Is there a lot going on in your life right now?”

“Yes and no,” she sighed. “I, um, lost someone. Last spring in the Glades.”

“I’m sorry.” Barry had watched the news coverage. So had everyone. It had been hard to conceptualize that much destruction but now he was faced with the aftermath on an intensely personal level.

“It was...it could have been avoided.” Her gaze was back on her coffee cup. “And afterwards, I thought maybe I could keep going. I had, um, well I thought I had something with an old friend. But he left, and when he finally came back I just pushed him away. I pushed everyone away. And I don’t know how to fix that.”

“Well, maybe you should take some time off. I know you’re worried about your job, but it’s around the holidays anyway. You could take a couple days and just figure things out. Maybe visit somebody.”

She shook her head. A smile that was bitter twisted her lips. “I don’t have anyone to visit.”

“No extended family? College friends?” Barry wasn’t ready to give up trying.

“Just a mom who lives in Central.”

He face lit up with a smile. “Hey, that’s my city!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And it’s great there, especially around the holidays. They put a big tree up and the streets are all lined with lights. There’s a lot to do.”

“You work for the tourism board or something?”

He grinned. If she wanted to make jokes at his expense, that was fine. Joking was much better than the defeated tone she’d had before. “Nope. People from out of town say we’re all like this. Have you been to your mom’s?”

She shook her head.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I only found out she was staying there less than a year ago,” she told him. “It’s a long story.”

“You seem to have a lot of those.”

She let out a watery chuckle, wiping at her eyes. “Yeah.” Her hands came away stained with mascara. “Do you mind if I go to the ladies’ for a second?” She stood up, but paused at the table. “I promise I’m not gonna do anything stupid.”

“Okay,” Barry agreed slowly. He wasn’t an expert in this, but he thought he ought to show her some trust. She stood up on much steadier legs and went down the little hallway in the back. Barry hunched over and placed his head in his hands. Breathing in and out helped to bring down the stress he’d barely been hiding.

He knew, of course, this sort of thing happened. Especially around the holidays. Officers at the precinct trained for it, how to de-escalate the situation and keep the person from doing harm to themselves. He had no idea if he was following the right protocol, and despite the late hour he badly wanted to call Joe for some advice.

Barry checked his watch as the barista went into the back storeroom for something. It had been a few minutes. Should he check on her? Listen at the door? Was that wrong?

His worrying abruptly cut off when, out of nowhere, a dart embedded itself into his neck and he lost consciousness.

Barry awoke in a chair in a darkened room, Felicity Smoak swimming into view in front of him. “Wha—?”

His head jerked around. There was Oliver Queen’s bodyguard and something on a table. Rows and rows of green-tipped arrows. The Vigilante. This had to be his base.

But where— what had happened to Laurel? How long had he been out? Had anyone checked on her? Oh God—

“Barry.” Felicity had stepped forward and forcefully took hold of his hands to redirect his focus. “Please save my friend.”

Her friend, as it turned out, was Oliver Queen. Oliver Queen, as it turned out, was also the vigilante.

The next several minutes were a blur. Oliver was close to death, and the only treatment available was risky at best. The rat poison got him to stop flailing, thankfully, and after a while his vitals came back stable.

“Okay. Keep monitoring him,” Barry told Felicity and Diggle. “I just have to go back—”

“Back where?” Felicity cried. “Barry, we found you in a cafe instead of the train station. Would have taken us forever by the way if I hadn’t pinged your phone.”

“You pinged my phone?” Barry blinked. That wasn’t important right now. “Okay, well there’s sort of an important—”

“This is important. This is Oliver’s life we’re talking about here!”

“What if he starts seizing again while you’re gone?” Diggle pointed out with a frown.

Barry deflated. He didn’t want to have to choose between two people, but the likelihood Laurel was even still at the cafe was probably slim. And he couldn’t exactly explain to the other two the situation; they clearly hadn’t seen her and might not even believe him. To their eyes, it probably looked like he was trying to sneak away so he could tell the authorities about all of this.

So he slumped back into his chair.

Oliver eventually woke up and was remarkably rude for someone who’s life Barry had just saved. Then he and the others still needed help tracking down Cyrus Gold. When Barry did finally have a quiet moment to himself, he jogged back to the little cafe. There were other patrons there now, but no Laurel. He jogged over to the bridge and didn’t find anything of note there either, though if she had come back here hours ago...his insides squirmed.

Barry was called back to administer a test on Oliver’s blood to see if anything was still in his system. He worried over both problems for a time, occupying his hands with molding a mask out of tripolymer fabric for Oliver.

There was nothing in Oliver’s blood but he still had to go face Cyrus Gold a final time. Barry’s phone had been going off with calls and texts from first Joe and then Iris, which he couldn’t really ignore forever. He finally left Felicity and Diggle in their base and got on the train, getting out his Harrison Wells biography to try and clear his mind.

Had he done enough? Did Laurel really believe there were things or people in her life worth going on for? What if he’d failed?

These worries plagued him through the whole day. He couldn’t come up with anything substantial to tell Iris about his trip. He couldn’t stop the guy who stole her purse and got hit in the face for his trouble. He could barely concentrate on the coverage of the particle accelerator on the news in his lab.

Instead, he took out his phone and dialed Felicity to let her know he’d made it back and to inform her about the gift he’d left behind for Oliver. Though as he thought about the vigilante, an idea came to him.

“Actually, if I could ask Oliver a favor?”

“What kind of favor?”

“It’s a personal one.” He didn’t exactly feel comfortable relating something so sensitive through a game of telephone. “Could you give him the phone?”

“Okay,” Felicity said after a short pause. He heard her calling to Oliver, slightly muffled.

A few moments later, he heard the man’s voice. “The favor?”

Right to the chase, okay. “Um, yeah. I was hoping you could — I mean, I know it’s not really your area of what you normally do with your night job and it might be a little hopeless—”

“Barry,” Oliver said, indicating he was meant to wrap it up.

“When Felicity and Diggle went to get me, I was in a cafe.”

“They told me.”

“Right, well I was there instead of waiting for a train because I- I met somebody. Somebody who was having kind of a rough time. And I’m worried about her.”

There was a pause. “Barry, I’m not really sure what you’re asking me to do here.”

He dragged a hand through his hair in frustration. This was a lot harder to just come out and say than he’d thought. “I’m asking you to find out if she’s okay, because when I met her she was trying to go over the bridge, Oliver.”

“Oh.” It was more a soft exhalation than the word itself. “I’m sorry they pulled you away from that.”

“Yeah, well, you did need medical attention. I just didn’t know how to find her after, and I guess I’m hoping you can.” Maybe the Arrow wasn’t most people’s first choice to run wellness checks, but Barry felt Oliver did truly care about the citizens of his city. Even if he hid that under a hood.

“Did you have her address? A family contact?” Oliver asked only moments later, proving Barry right.

He shook his head, then realized that wasn’t very productive. “No, she was pretty adamant not to involve her family. Her father, she said that specifically,” he remembered. “I wish I’d been able to get a picture of her for you or something, but I only have the name she gave me: Laurel.”

The line went dead silent on the other end for a long moment, long enough that Barry lifted the phone away from his ear to check if the call was still going. It was. “Oliver?”

“You—” Oliver had to pause and try again; his voice had cracked. “You’re sure she said Laurel?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I have to go.” There was a sound on the other end, some kind of muffled thump and then Felicity’s voice rather close calling Oliver’s name — he must have passed the phone back to her.

“Barry, what’s going on? Why did Oliver say Laurel’s name?”

“Uh…” He wasn’t sure what to say in the face of evidence that Oliver and his team knew a Laurel. Was she the same one Barry had met? The same lonely, desperate woman who didn’t seem to think her loved ones would have missed her much or cared? What did that say?

“It’s probably best he tells you,” Barry eventually decided. It wasn’t his place. At the least, Oliver knew exactly how to find Laurel and could make certain she was alright. That eased some of his worry. “I should get off the phone.” He was waiting on Joe’s call for a ride from the precinct, after all. “Goodbye, Felicity.”

She said her goodbye as well, and Barry put away his phone. Maybe now his conscience would be eased, especially if Oliver let him know what he found out.

Of course, Barry would end up having to wait a very long time for that.

—-

Oliver changed and left the base without opening Barry’s gift or answering either of his team member’s questions. There was only one thought in his mind: she was trying to go over the bridge, Oliver.

His heart was in his throat as he reached apartment 305 and knocked on the door. “Laurel? Please, if you’re at home, can you open the door?”

He couldn’t hear anything. Oliver took out his phone, noticing one missed call from Felicity already. He ignored the notification and instead called Laurel’s cell phone.

After a few rings, it sent him to her voicemail. “Hi, this is Laurel. I’m either at work or otherwise unavailable. Leave your name and number with a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Laurel, it’s Oliver. Please call me.” He didn’t bother with his number. He knew she had it.

When a second round of knocking at her door produced no response, he went to the outside of the building and it’s fire escape. This was the first time he’d ever entered this way without his vigilante suit on, but he’d explain himself after he saw her.

Except Laurel wasn’t home. He couldn’t find anything out of place. There wasn’t any food sitting out abandoned or something big and obvious missing. It just looked like she had stepped out for some indeterminate amount of time.

Like forever.

He was dialing her number again before he realized, and it rang and rang. Ringing was good. It meant her phone was on and working. It wasn’t broken in a fall or dead in the water.

“Still Oliver. Just, whenever you can, Laurel, please.”

He took his bike over to the DA’s office, but it was clear at this time of night, no one was there. All the lights were off. He still slipped inside to have a look. Her desk was tidy. It didn’t look like anything was wrong.

But Laurel didn’t normally have a tidy desk. It was covered in papers and post it notes and pens, some of which bore bite marks on the lid. A tidy desk looked normal on the outside, but it spoke of something wrong to someone who really knew her.

Just like Laurel’s behavior had been the last two months. He’d tried to push his worries about it aside when she pushed back. He’d told himself he it wasn’t his place. Lord, what had he done?

His phone rang, and he scrambled to pick it up. “Laurel?”

“No, Felicity. You know, the girl you left behind in the base along with John without any kind of explanation?”

Oliver grit his teeth as he walked back out to his bike. “I don’t have time.”

“We’re your team, we’re supposed to help you when you don’t have time. So what’s this about Laurel? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted in a small voice. “I can’t — can you trace her phone? I have one more lead I can follow.”

“Okay,” Felicity agreed, though he could hear her frustration at not being given the answers she’d wanted. He just couldn’t say it out loud, he wasn’t ready to put the words out there. To possibly make them real.

Oliver parked his bike outside of Starling General, sneaking his way past the front desk to head up to Lance’s room. He already knew the location, having visited him as the Arrow only hours ago. Hours that could have been crucial to someone they both cared for. Hours they hadn’t realized they were taking for granted.

Whatever guilt he felt about possibly waking the man up dissipated when Quentin Lance immediately blinked his eyes open at his entrance. His injuries were likely making sleep hard to come by. The guilt returned tenfold.

“...Queen? What’re you doing here?” There was confusion more than anything in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Officer Lance. I just was wondering if you’d seen Laurel in—” his heart dropped as he realized just how long it had been since he’d seen her himself. “—the last week or so? I wanted to see how she was doing. I know the holidays have been, uh, hard for you both.”

Lance snorted, or tried to. “Yeah, this one’s not looking to be any better. They called her after I was checked in. She’s my contact. They said she was having trouble getting here. Something about a train.”

“A train?” Oliver couldn’t help the sharpness in his voice. What would Laurel have been around a train for, unless—?

“Yeah, they said something about it...you alright?”

“I— yes, I’m fine. Thank you, Officer Lance.”

“Yeah, well, never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad she’s got you looking out for her.”

Oliver could only offer a tight, closed-lipped smile that probably barely passed muster before fleeing the room.

He hadn’t done enough to look after her. And he could blame her anti-Hood stance or the court case against his mother all he wanted, but in the end he’d asked Laurel to be in his life without really offering her the same. He’d been a coward, too afraid she might judge him for the mistakes he’d made since coming back from the island. With each mission he took on at night, each secret he kept, it became easier to just hold her at arm’s length. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d left her all alone.

Had he left her to drown?

Oliver stopped outside the hospital, leaning against the wall and sliding down to sit, his head in his hands. He couldn’t bare the idea of checking, of calling it in. What it would do to her family and to him. He couldn’t lose her like this, God. He wasn’t sure if he was pleading or praying.

His phone rang twice before he had the presence of mind to pick it up. “...hello?”

“Oliver, you sound terrible. What is happening?” Felicity demanded.

“Did you find something?” He asked, wiping furiously at his cheeks wet with tears.

“I did. I’m just not sure — her phone says she’s at the Central City train station.”

It took a moment to process. “Central?”

“Yes.”

The nurses had told Lance something about a train, that she was having trouble getting to the hospital because of it. Ticket trouble. Or scheduling. Something gloriously mundane.

Just as his heart started to beat normally again, Felicity continued. “But it’s not a good place to be right now. I checked the news. Oliver, the particle accelerator that launched tonight exploded.”

“Exploded?”

“The whole city’s lost power. I- I can’t reach Barry,” Felicity added in a trembling voice. “He’s just not answering.”

The same way Laurel wasn’t.

Oliver took a deep breath and pushed up onto his feet. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Oliver—”

“I’m going there.” If Laurel was there, then that was where he needed to be. He hung up, neither ready nor willing to participate in a drawn out argument.

Barry had talked Laurel out of it, that much was clear. For that, he would always be grateful to the scientist, no matter what had become of him in this explosion.

But Laurel’s fate may still have been cruelly decided. A chill that had nothing to do with the December air went through him at the thought, sinking into his very bones.

He had to get to her. Do whatever he could. Try, completely this time. He might never get the chance again.

—-

Laurel groaned as she sat up, trying to shake the ringing in her ears. It nearly covered up the sound of approaching sirens, but then as those got louder they blended together making everything hurt worse.

She had to laugh at herself. She really did have the worst ideas. The laugh turned into a cough as she rubbed at her throat. Ugh, why did that have to hurt, too? She must have really shouted when that train…

“Never listen to a Jiminy Cricket before Christmas,” she managed to grumble to herself.

At least, that’s what she’d decided the tall, lanky man named Barry had been. A figment of a Good Samaritan she’s made up for herself, who had disappeared the minute she had turned her back with only a half-drunk latte to prove he might have once been there. It could have been anyone’s, really. She’d been half-drunk when they’d stumbled into the little shop.

Laurel had chosen to take Barry’s advice and get out of her normal routine for a couple of days. She hadn’t said anything to anyone before packing; in the sober light of day, she was ashamed and terrified of what she had almost done and knew the others would feel the same with a healthy dash of disappointment. She just had to keep moving, even if nothing ever got better.

Laurel had packed an overnight bag and boarded an early train to Central by the time Thea’s text had come through asking if she could stop by the house to help her and her friends with something. Laurel had felt a pang of regret but written back that she wasn’t able to for a couple of days. Thea had said that was fine and wished her a happy holiday. Laurel had been glad no one she knew was around to see her eyes water at that simple sentiment. Thea probably hadn’t known just how much that meant to her.

She’d arrived in Central in daylight, so the strings of lights down the streets had not been lit. Still, for a city, it held the feel of a small town somehow, everyone smiling and happy. She’d found herself able to breathe easier because of it. At least until it had started to get dark and she’d known she needed to either find or hotel or head to her mother’s.

Laurel had the address written down on a scrap of paper from one of the last times they’d talked. If she’d gone there, would she have been able to tell her mother what had almost happened?

It hadn’t come to it. She had gotten a call.

“May I speak to Dinah Lance?”

“This is her daughter,” Laurel had responded automatically, her mind having still been on her mother.

“We have a Dinah L. Lance listed as the emergency contact for Officer Quentin Lance?”

“Oh! Yes, that’s me. You — is this the hospital?”

“Yes. Your father was admitted early this evening due to sustaining injuries in a raid. He’s in surgery.”

Laurel’s hand had gone over her mouth. “Will he be alright?”

“He came in in better condition than some of the other members of the unit,” the desk nurse had told her. “The doctors will know more later. You’re welcome to come wait to speak to them.”

Laurel had looked around herself, feeling totally helpless as she’d admitted. “I’m six-hundred miles away. I- I took a trip.”

Why did every decision she made end up hurting someone she cared about?

“That’s alright. We’ll let him know.”

“No, tell him I’m on my way back. I’ll be on the next train, I promise.”

She’d hurried back to the train station, finding it full of last-minute travelers for the holidays. After standing in line for what had felt an age, it had finally been her turn.

“I need a one-way ticket for the first train that gets to Starling.”

“You missed the previous one by fifteen minutes,” the person at the booth had informed her, and Laurel had barely held in a curse. “Next one comes in an hour.”

“Okay, fine, that one. Please.”

She’d stood on the platform with a handful of others, her arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. A television mounted in one corner near the ceiling had displayed a news woman in what had appeared to be a growing storm outside.

“Wait, we're now being told to evacuate the facility. The storm may have caused a malfunction to the primary cooling system. Officials are now trying to shut down the particle accelerator, but so far, have been unable to regain control of the system—”

Abruptly, the TV and then the lights had cut out. Yelps of surprise and alarm had gone up throughout the building.

There’s been a tremendous boom from outside, and Laurel’s hair had stood up on the back of her neck.

The horn of the approaching train had been a loud blare as it had turned the corner into the station, driving blind in the total dark. Laurel had been jostled as people had pushed at each other in a blind panic to move as far back as possible. She’d tripped and cried out as a strange, translucent ripple of something had knocked into her, throwing her off her feet, and then—

She’d woken up on the same train platform.

“Alright, folks, the generator should kick in in a minute,” a voice called out. Flashlight beams danced over them all. Then there was a flicker and a hum, and Laurel was blinking back spots in her vision from the sudden flood of light.

“Any more injuries?” The same voice asked next.

Laurel looked herself over. Aside from the soreness and the ringing that was slowly fading away, she didn’t think she needed a hospital. One leg of her pantyhose had scraped in the fall; they resembled fishnets more than anything else.

Laurel heard a new ringing, this time coming from her pocket. She took out her phone, surprised to see the notification that she had four missed calls already and two messages. The fifth call was still was still ringing: Ollie.

Laurel hit the accept button and cleared her throat. “Hello?”

“Laurel!” It was a shout, but not one of anger or frustration. She wasn’t sure the last time she’d heard Oliver sound so relieved and overjoyed at once. “Oh, thank God.”

“Ollie?”

“Are you still at the train station?”

“I — how did you know that?”

“Laurel, where are you?”

“Yes, I’m at the station. In Central City,” she added, though for some reason he seemed to already know that.

Her suspicion was confirmed when he said, “I’ll be there in eight and a half hours.”

“Why?”

There was a pause. “Laurel, there was an explosion.”

“I know that. I just—” It didn’t make sense, how intensely he cared and then the distance he would immediately put up after. “I’m okay. I just had a fall.”

And her throat felt funny, but that was likely a cold more than anything.

“Get checked out at the hospital.”

“Oliver—”

“Please? I’ll cover anything your insurance doesn’t.” He really was pleading, she realized. He was borderline hysterical.

“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly.

“Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I — please stay safe.”

He hung up. Laurel sat there, blinking at her phone, until a man in a paramedic’s uniform came over to her.

“You alright, miss?”

“I think so? My, uh, friend thinks I should head to the hospital. I fell when the power went out.”

He nodded. “Alright, we’ll make sure you get checked out.”

Laurel was taken over to Central City General along with a number of others. A small clinic-style area had been set up to one side where a nurse shined a light in her eyes and had her follow her finger around.

“Any headache or nausea?”

“Not really. Just a sore throat.”

“Hm.” The nurse got out a tongue depressor and looked in her mouth with a flashlight, then felt around her throat. The nurse stepped away after that, leaving Laurel a clipboard with which to fill out her information. She did so, pausing at the spot where an emergency contact was meant to be filled in. Her whole life, she’d put down her father’s information, but with him already in the hospital it made little sense. She thought of putting her mother, but the poor woman didn’t even realize Laurel was in the same city right now.

In the end, she wrote down Oliver’s name and number, glancing around furtively as though someone was about to pop up and judge her for it. He already knew she was here, had insisted on it himself.

The nurse came back after a time with a harried-looking doctor. Laurel had to wonder how busy they all were and why they were bothering with her at all.

“You came in here with a sore throat you say you weren’t experiencing before the explosion?” He asked her with no preamble. Laurel nodded. He took his own turn examining the inside of her mouth and feeling around her neck. “Could be strep. You might have gotten it before and only noticed the symptoms now. Vocal nodes is unlikely, but we’re perhaps not quite able to rule it out—”

“Vocal nodes?” Asked an unfamiliar voice. Laurel turned her head to see a man in a wheelchair roll closer to her cot. He had rather piercing eyes behind his glasses. “A very interesting theory and result if true.”

Her doctor gave an uncomfortable cough. “Dr. Wells, you really shouldn’t be up so soon.”

Dr. Wells tipped his head in acknowledgment of that. “Forgive me. I couldn’t lie still in bed knowing what my mistake has cost so many people. I thought if I might be able to make myself useful…”

“That’s quite alright,” Laurel’s doctor said with a fair amount of force. “I’m very sure it’s strep.”

“All the same.” Dr. Wells took a card out of his pocket and set it on the end of Laurel’s cot. “If you find yourself in need of any assistance, Miss- ah—”

“Lance,” Laurel filled in for him.

“Of course.” A smile curved his lips and his eyes practically seemed to glint. “Miss Lance. My lab would be happy to do whatever we can.”

“Thank you.” Laurel picked up the card. She’d surmised as much, but the STAR Labs logo beside his name confirmed this was the scientist who had set off this whole disaster. Laurel pocketed the card, internally making a note to stay about as far away from someone that crazy as possible.

With another smile, he moved on towards the ICU, judging by the signage on the wall.

Her doctor shook his head. “I suggest you see a primary care physician about prescribing you an antibiotic for strep.”

Laurel nodded. “Am I free to go?”

“If you aren’t experiencing any other trouble, yes.”

Laurel slid off her cot and took her bag with her out to the waiting room, sitting amongst worried family members and friends of the patients still being treated. The mood was somber, with some being shown to rooms and others leaving in tears as the hours passed.

Late in the night or perhaps early in the morning, she saw an older officer enter and head to the desk, visibly distressed.

“I’m looking for Barry Allen.”

“Barry,” Laurel muttered to herself. Not the most common name, and a Barry in Central City? She started to stand.

“Laurel!”

Laurel jumped, turning back to the doors. “Oliver!”

He’d said eight and a half hours. It had been seven. She had no idea how fast he must have been going to shave down that travel time, or how he’d avoided getting ticketed at all. Oliver was in front of her in the next instant, pulling her into a hug so tight she forgot to breath for a moment.

“Thank God,” she heard him murmur again into her hair. Then his lips pressed to the top of her head.

“Ollie, I- I’m really fine.” She pulled back to look at him, surprised to see tears in his eyes. “Are you fine?”

He swallowed, shaking his head. “Am I— I’m sorry. So sorry. I knew you weren’t okay, and I should have done more. God, what could have happened.”

Laurel’s heart dropped. The way he was talking, it was almost like he knew. “Ollie, how…?”

“Barry told me.”

Her jaw dropped. About a million questions occurred to her in that instant. How had Barry figured out who she was? Why had he contacted Oliver? How had he contacted Oliver? Barry was even real?

“I could have lost you,” Oliver was saying.

Laurel’s throat felt like it was burning, but she knew it had little to do with any illness. “Please, not here.”

He looked around the waiting room, as if noticing all the other people for the first time. Some of them were staring while others were still lost in their own troubles. Oliver collected himself and then nodded, leading her by the hand out of the hospital.

It had stopped raining, at least, and wasn’t as cold as she might have thought. Or maybe that was the heat in her cheeks as she cast a glance at him. “I told him not to tell anybody.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough that he heard her.

“He didn’t know we knew each other,” he said.

Laurel raised an eyebrow. “Then why tell you at all? How would you have even met him?”

Oliver sighed. “That’s...that’s a long story. One I should have told you a long time ago. I’m so sorry.”

Her hands curled into fists so that her nails dug into the palms. “Why are you apologizing? This was my fault. Nobody told me to- to climb up onto a bridge railing and almost — how can you even look at me knowing I almost did that?” He was supposed to be furious with her. Not this. She didn’t know how to deal with this.

“I’m not going to judge you, Laurel. I would never judge you for this.”

“Shouldn’t you? It was so stupid.” Her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m- I’m a mess or broken or something. I have to be.”

“I nearly killed myself on the island,” he stated, point-blank.

She looked back around at him, a sharp pain in her chest. “What—”

“One of the people that tortured me,” he told her quietly, never breaking eye contact. “He left me in a cell with a gun. I was drugged and in pain, and I couldn’t see a way out of it or how coming home would be of benefit to any of my loved ones. I thought I would only ruin them. And I picked up the gun.”

He’d told her once there’d been times he had wanted to die. To know he’d come so close to acting on it...Laurel took a step closer. “What stopped you?”

“You,” he answered simply to her shock. “I saw you. A few times, actually, over those years. But you spoke to me. You told me that if I ended it there, then the people we both cared about who had already died, it would have been for nothing. And that you and my mother and Thea needed me to come home.”

Laurel’s eyes were stinging. It hadn’t been real, of course. They both knew that. But to know that she had mattered that much to him, that the semblance of her presence could pull someone back from the brink, it was almost too much.

“You’ve been through so much. So much more than me.”

He shook his head. “You’ve been through more than people realize. My pain, it’s easy for people to see. They see the scars, they know about my time away. I was on an island and, for the most part, so alone. But you...Laurel, you’ve been surrounded by people and yet you’ve been just as alone as I was.”

“Some of that was my fault,” she insisted. “I could have reached out or listened. I do have a problem, you and my father were right.”

“But we didn’t reach you. That’s the thing. In my darkest moments, you’ve been there for me. And I haven’t been there for you.” His gaze was shame-filled now. “I left you on your island, and I went back to my own.”

“I haven’t really been there, Ollie. You imagined me. The real me, I’m—”

“Damaged. We both are,” he agreed. “But maybe we can finally help each other for real.”

He seemed so earnest and sure. She wanted with all her heart to believe him, but the doubts still nagged at her. “You really mean that?”

“I do.” Oliver took her hands. “I know you have every reason not to trust me. That’s okay. I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove it to you. Just promise me if you ever feel the way you did that night, if you ever start thinking that way again, you talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be to me. Just someone.” His eyes were practically begging her. “We all care so much about you, Laurel. I couldn’t imagine it if we lost you.”

There was a lump in her throat now that she swallowed down. The pain she’d been feeling there seemed to be lessening as well, or maybe she just was feeling too much right now to really pay it any mind. “I promise. The same goes for you.”

Oliver let go of her hands, only to cup her face and kiss her forehead. Laurel stood there, loosely gripping his forearms and letting the moment simply hang in the air between them.

“I promise,” he echoed.

She nodded and finally stepped back. “I was trying to get home to see my father. He’s in the hospital.”

“I’ve seen him. He’s stable, but it’s going to take some recovery,” he told her, a frown pulling his lips down. Some of that shame was back in his eyes. “We’ll take the first plane out of here so we can get you there.”

Laurel accepted his arm but kept hold of her bag as they started walking away from the hospital. “You’re not paying for my ticket.”

“I’m insisting that I do. Please? I lost track of the time and couldn’t really get gifts for anyone this year.”

The corner of her mouth turned up. “Well, then I’m buying your ticket since I forgot presents this year too.” They didn’t really touch on why; that for one terrible night she’d thought she wouldn’t be around to give them.

“Actually, I’m asking for your company at the Verdant for my Christmas gift. No drinks, I promise,” he added.

“Then why?”

“There’s a lot I want to tell you. And show you, if you’ll let me.” The completely serious look to his face and tone of his voice let her know this was absolutely not some kind of come on. A part of her was relieved; she was not in the right frame of mind for that kind of thing. “I think it should help us both.”

“Okay, then. I’ll be there,” she agreed after a moment. Then Laurel hugged his arm. “Merry Christmas, Ollie.”

He smiled for her, not the playboy smirk or CEO grin. Just Oliver. “Merry Christmas, Laurel.”

If she’d known a year ago at that party with Tommy just where he life would have ended up a year from then, she would have never believed it. A part of her still didn’t. But there was no going back; only forward. Whatever it took, she and Oliver would do it together.

—-

Nine months later

Barry had a lot to process upon waking up from a coma that had lasted the better part of a year. STAR Labs and Dr. Wells were in disgrace, Iris had a boyfriend and only just when he’d finally gotten abs. Even if the reason why was almost impossible to believe.

But the impossible was exactly what he’d been looking for.

Barry had been disappointed when Dr. Wells shot down his idea to help protect the city from the emerging metahuman threat as Cisco and Caitlin had helpfully explained to him the term was. On top of that, Joe was angry at him for insisting Clyde Mardon was still alive and had weather-controlling powers. So he’d decided to seek out another source for advice.

He hadn’t really known what Oliver would say when he’d called him up, but the man had directed him to meet him on top of a roof in his home city of Starling. With his new powers, Barry had actually made it there just ahead of the archer, who came to stand there in his suit and the mask Barry had made for him.

He then explained his situation as best he could without getting bogged down in the details. “I know it sounds crazy,” he admitted, even if the one case he’d helped Oliver on had involved an out of the ordinary situation of its own.

“Not as crazy as you might think,” Oliver replied. The cryptic response had Barry raising his eyebrows. “I know you’re right about the explosion causing people to exhibit abilities. The man who was making the Mirakuru found that out the hard way when he tried to abduct Laurel.”

“Laurel!” Barry blurted. It all came back to him in that moment, the bridge and the cafe. He felt incredible guilt for not thinking to ask before. “You found her? She’s okay?”

“Yeah. She’s doing a lot better,” Oliver told him, and his face lit up with a smile Barry had never really seen on the archer’s face before.

“So, you do know her?” It had seemed that way based on the vigilante’s reaction during that phone call they’d had all those months ago. Barry could only be glad he’d chosen the right thing to do.

“Yeah, we’ve known each other a long time. Actually, we, uh, we made things official last month. Again,” the archer muttered. If Barry wasn’t mistaken, there was a redness under his scruff.

He was too busy beaming to care. “That’s great! I’m so glad to hear that.” Nine months really could change things! Barry was happy to finally hear about something that had decidedly changed for the better.

“Yeah. She wanted to meet you up here, too, when you called, but her sister’s in town. They’re probably about fifty rooftops that way,” Oliver said, pointing out across the city.

“That’s great,” Barry repeated, still grinning. He’d known there had to be people in her life who cared! Something Oliver had said occurred to him, though. “Wait, Laurel has powers?”

Oliver nodded. “We think so. She took your advice about a trip to Central and was there when the particle accelerator exploded.” Barry winced, but Oliver continued, “It might have ended up saving her life. We’ve been testing it on our own for a while.”

“In the field?”

Oliver nodded. “That’s why I know you’re cut out for this life, Barry. With your powers, you and Laurel can do things I could never hope to. You can be better than me, for your city. Watching over it like a guardian angel, making a difference. Saving people in a flash.”

Barry left the rooftop in much higher spirits than when he’d arrived. For the heck of it, he sped over in the direction Oliver had indicated Laurel might be in; a part of him wanted to see how she was doing for himself.

As Barry ran, he noticed a couple odd things happening ahead of him. There were two people on a rooftop. Two women in fact, but neither Barry recognized. One was a blonde in black leather. The other was younger and had dark hair hidden under a hood and a quiver of arrows. In slow motion, he watched her fire off three in quick succession towards the blonde woman, who stood there defenseless.

The lightning he was only just starting to really understand flickered behind his eyes, and Barry raced forward, pushing the blonde out of the path of the arrows. He turned back and faced the brunette, who immediately took a swipe at him with her bow, her eyes hazy and unfocused.

Barry didn’t quite dodge her swing and he landed hard on the roof’s surface, the wind knocked out of him. “Come on, come on,” he wheezed, trying to figure out how to access his powers once again.

“What the hell!” The blonde exclaimed. She rolled onto her feet first, charging the brunette who had nearly aimed an arrow at Barry in the meantime. He watched as they exchanged a series of punches and kicks, seemingly evenly matched. “Thea, why are you doing this?”

“Sara!” A voice called in the distance, one he thought he recognized. Hurried footsteps clanged on metal. A fire escape, he realized dimly. “Get back!”

A high-pitched scream the likes of which he’d never heard pierced the air, as over Barry’s head the air seemed to ripple in waves with the sound. The blonde had leapt back out of the way, leaving the brunette — Thea? — to get knocked onto her back by the force of it. Barry looked back towards the source just as the sound cut off.

He was met with the sight of a far different Laurel than the woman he had met. Her hair was a much lighter shade, for one thing. She wore a jean jacket, flannel shirt and dark pants rather than the more formal pantsuit and coat combo she’d had on the last time. Her face had a healthy fullness to it and there was strength in her stance.

The woman he had met hadn’t known how to go on living; this woman was very much alive.

She ran to who was obviously her sister. “Sara! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thanks for the help. And thanks to that guy, even if I have no idea where the hell he came from.”

Laurel looked around at him and her eyes widened. “Barry!”

“Hey. Just wanted to say hi while I was in the neighborhood.” He accepted her hand to help get back onto his feet. “Wasn’t really expecting a fight.”

“Well, I’m glad you found it,” she remarked. Her gaze landed on the attacker next. “Thea...I don’t understand.”

The sisters stood over the unconscious woman — closer to a girl, really, with her small build and delicate features. Barry came over and crouched down, lifting one of the girl’s eyelids. “She’s been drugged. Did you see? She was totally out of it.”

“I thought she was sober,” said Sara.

“She is. Or she’s supposed to be,” Laurel answered. “Oliver hasn’t heard from her in a bit since everything with Moira…”

The sisters exchanged a solemn look. Then Sara’s expression darkened further.

“It’s gotta be Merlyn.”

“Malcolm?” Laurel asked in surprise.

“That’s why I’m here. The League received intelligence he survived the Undertaking, and Ra’s wants proof. I’m supposed to find him so he can be brought back to answer to his violations of the League’s code.” Sara looked over at him. “I think you saved me from some kind of setup.”

Barry’s posture straightened slightly. Maybe slightly on accident, he’d already started to prove Oliver right.

“We need to get Thea to her brother,” Laurel decided, scooping the girl up into her arms. Sara took possession of the bow and quiver of arrows Thea had been carrying. Then Laurel cast him an apologetic smile. “I wish we had more time to talk.”

“That’s okay. We can catch up later,” Barry told her. “You have enough going on. And I have to be getting back.”

They shared a nod, each knowing what wasn’t being said. That there would be time to talk. Much more time.

Barry left Laurel standing on a rooftop, no longer worried about his new friend. She’d found her way out of the dark.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #barry allen #oliver queen #arrow #the flash #green arrow #black canary #my writing

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