Laurel, of course, had been following the story for months. She'd interviewed both of the astronauts on the flight. Captain Alex Toomey had been... difficult. Ted Lockwood was kind. They got along well; her heart had swelled at something that felt like a genuine connection, probably the first she'd has in some time. Damn, she'd been consumed in her work. She thought they were something, before the almost three months away. ...there had been a lot of time off the record for it to not be something. But maybe it was something casual. God, she never knew. And maybe that's why she was still single at forty. But still, she knew she was in love with him.
As the broadcast aired, declaring the mission has met with aliens, they went to type notes on their phone, excited to see what was a historical event that someone she cared about was a part of. What they saw was something completely different. It was him, screams of pain almost inhuman, and she could feel a tightness in her own chest, watching his concave. "No... No." She whispered to herself, before screaming at the bloody combustion, fear and agony rolling into one. She could hardly hear she screams that the world would soon end, their own moon on a collision course. What choice did she have but to wait helplessly, praying to a possibly nonexistent god that the afterlife would be kinder to her and Ted.
🪞 - your muse catches on to the fact that my muse has no reflection (reversed)
- From Ted to Laurel
(goranginumber7)
Laurel hadn’t even thought as she stopped at the shop window on her walk with Ted to their normal diner. The antiques were beautiful, some of the ones easily seen reminding her very much of the old family house in Louisiana, where her mother had taken everything she’d had the ability to, finding herself a black woman in the 1880s owning a former plantation all by herself and staring a vineyard for her troubles. The family was reclusive now due to the years they all should’ve been dead, but their vineyard was incredibly successful. …and Laurel was beginning to miss home. So, she had been so entranced that she hadn’t even noticed the mirror in the window that confirmed the storefront window’s reflection. She bore no reflection.
Feeling the warmth at her side as Ted got closer, she turned. “Something striking your fancy? …I’m sorry for the delay. I have a soft spot for antiques like these,” she admitted, not realizing the reason for his shock.
Laurel smiled at the purr against her ear, cupping Ted’s face in her hands and positioning him to look at her again after he spoke. “And you can be as naughty as you want to with me, my love.” As much as she could, she was trying not to be smug about being able to more or less break the one track mind the gorangi ambassador kept for himself. On all his years in earth, he’d never had sex with a human, and now he was overcome in his lust for her. “Though I would’ve figured between Alex and I, you would have your work cut out for you. Here I was, thinking you must be overworked from out libidos combined,” she laughed, pulling him closer to her.
🍸Laurel, did you ever see any signs of chemistry between Ted and Alex before the Ocula mission?
Laurel laughed to herself. “Considering Alex always looked like he wanted to get on his knees and suck Ted’s cock? Absolutely. The biggest thing was just that I never thought Alex would ever own up to it. I thought the poor boy was going to be in the closet forever, even if Ted seemed to be reciprocating the feelings in his weird, gentle way.”
Laurel's nails gently raked down Ted's stomach; she was taking her time with him, her lipstick now smudged across both their mouths and clothes scattered across the floor, save only their underclothes. Her slip was rucked up from his hands exploring her thighs, but she had only somewhat realized, as her eyes were zeroed in on her prize, a hand moving to cup his cock. "I know, sweetheart. I know that's where you want to be touched," she purred softly, slipping that hand into his underwear, beginning to stroke him to life. "How do you like it done?"
Gender: cis woman, though she'd toying with demi-girl as a label (she/they pronouns)
Sexuality: pansexual
Conditions: anxiety
FC: Troian Bellisario
Laurel Dmitrović was the only daughter of a Serbian immigrant and his Creole wife. As odd of a pair those two would seem, they were the best parents a young girl could ask for, raising her securely in the Jewish faith. Beyond that, they also were very set on making sure Laurel was secure in herself before anything else and be able to provide for herself rather than rely on anyone else. It was hard for them to say with any certainty that their daughter would be truly safe in the world they lived in, and so she needed to be reliant on herself, but know that good things happened because of good people, and while she needed to protect herself, being a good person and standing up for those who needed it was the most notable thing she could ever do.
Perhaps that was why she wanted to be a reporter from a young age. What she dreamed of doing was to showcase what was wrong to let the public know what needed to be done. As a young woman, she went to Dartmouth for her undergraduate in journalism before going to Emerson for her masters. While it looked impressive on paperwork, getting a job was hard as still few people wanted to take her seriously with what were still rather idealistic and even radical views. All the same, she had found a jobs eventually, though she shifted several times before finding a good paying job that also allowed to take the "risks" she wished to.
Her mother died when she was 25, and while her father still worked and was able to take care of himself, Laurel then made it her duty that her father would have a good life, after he worked his ass off her entire childhood to give her everything she needed. She often sent money back home, even if that meant making budget cuts for herself. It was worth it. ...of course, what she really wanted and needed was a promotion for all her hard work and years at the paper. She was hoping for an editor position, to allow for more ethical journalism practices and to influence the owners and CEOs to lessen the pay gap between its male and female workers, but also its black and white workers. Many people didn't see all she was attempting to do once she got to her goal, and because of that, she as often seen as a hard and too ambitious woman. In an age where it seemed men still wanted a homemaker, she wasn't exactly any man's first pick. So, she passed through her thirties without many serious relationships, still clawing her way up the ladder to finally put in motion all her plans, both for her family and the journalistic team that became like a second family.
It seemed like a test when she was given what could've been the biggest story of the century, one she'd be following and continuously writing about for months. ...granted, Laurel knew very little about science, so writing about the logistics of a space mission and the newly invented and perfected Gravity Wave was... a lot to take in. She felt a little lost, honestly, but put her best foot forward for what would likely be two years in Houston, mostly interviewing with those as mission control, but being able to meet the two man crew of the Ocula before launch and occasionally speak with them over technologies not often allowed to the public once they were in space. She found herself indifferent about Alex Toomey, the young man whose father had been the first man on Mars. He was a little off-putting, though she could tell it wasn't thinking himself above her, so much as it was some sort of facade. All the same, she couldn't get much deeper than an interview with him. ...Ted Lockwood, the man who invented the Gravity Wave, though, was kind. He was down to earth and understated in a way few important people she ever interviewed were. There came to be a lot of meetings off the record before launch, something she was looking forward to when they did plan to meet. Not only was she amazed by his humble attitude, but she felt close to him. Closer than she'd felt to anyone in a long time. Perhaps it was something. ...but maybe she was reading too much into it.
Laurel's story seemed like something out of someone's cliche romance movies, and she acknowledged that. However, there were clues pointing somewhere else that she never picked up at all.
This wasn't a romantic comedy. Oh no. Laurel was in the middle of a science fiction thriller, and that was something she'd learn when her world quite literally ended.
laurel isn’t sure about much in life. but one thing she’s sure of is that she’s head over heels in love with nora west-allen and has been for as far back as she can remember. the decision to come back to the past wasn’t an EASY one. but with nora at her side she felt almost INVINCIBLE. the two of them were sprawled out upon a bed in the West Allen house with the doors locked. the daxtonian began by puckering kisses against her fiancee’s neck and now she was sucking gently on the other woman’s collarbone. her hands ran along nora’s bare thighs. “ just wait till I go down on you, “ she teased, “ try not to scream I don’t want to give your grandparents heart attacks.”
