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[the-oblivious-writer]

Luck Runs Out |Part 1|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: Drugs, Guns, Violence

Word Count: 2.4k

Note: This is what happens when hyperfixations converge

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

“Cut the line!” You screamed over the raging storm and grinding machine.

“No!” Your captain yelled. “We can’t let the product go!”

“We have to!” you turned to face the captain.

“We have too much money riding on this drop.”

You watched as your fellow crewman continued to push the lever, trying to raise the net with product. You lifted thousands of pounds of fish almost daily so drugs shouldn’t be any different. It wasn’t usually different. The thing about machines though, no matter how many times you’ve used them, no matter how reliable they were in the past, they could still break.

The machine continued to groan, the wire grinding and struggling to raise the net. It was a bigger drop than usual, but it wasn’t anything you and the crew couldn’t handle. The thing that didn’t help though was that there was a major storm, the waves crashing around the boat, swaying it violently back and forth as your crew tried to raise the drugs. Most fishermen would have held out in leaving the dock when they heard the storm would be rolling in, just wait for it to pass and leave in the morning to get their catches. Your crew had a time limit though, you were told about the drop and drug dealers didn’t care about a ‘little storm’ in their words. Your job was just to get the drugs and bring them in.

“We have to cut the line!” You shouted, begging your captain to see reason.

“No!” He screamed back. “We get this line up or being out of a job will be the least of our worries.”

The grinding got louder, you looked to see the device to lift the net now smoking. Any other captain would have told them to cut the line, it would have sucked, but any other fishermen would have just taken the loss of the catch, the risk wasn’t worth it. You weren’t just any other fishermen though; you were the best. Your crew brought in some of the biggest catches, you were on one of the nicest fishing boats in the harbor, for fishermen the whole crew were well off not just the captain. You were also drug smugglers, you moved more drugs than fish, that’s where the real money came from.

“Screw it!” You said, watching as your crew mate struggled with the lever, losing his grip and as he slipped from a large wave that crashed onto the deck. The lever went down, the cord holding the product started to drop back into the ocean. Your crew mate quickly recovered and grabbed the lever, pushing it up as he caught the product, the cargo swinging from the sudden change.

You rushed forward, moving to push your crew mate out of the way when the cocking of a gun stopped you in your tracks. You heard it clearly, as if there weren’t crashing waves and thunder surrounding you.

“I said no,” your captain repeated.

You slowly turned to see your captain aiming a revolver at your head. You stared down the barrel of the gun, looking over it to see no hesitation in your captains’ eyes. You took a step away from the machine, refusing to back down from your captain's gaze. He was your captain, this was his ship, what he said was law, if he asked the men to throw you overboard, they would. A crew was supposed to be like family, fishing was dangerous, and the ocean was unforgiving, if you couldn’t rely on your crew, you might as well be dead. Everyone had a job and you needed to trust everyone would do their job, if you couldn’t trust them, then there was risk, everything could go wrong, and on the ocean, if something goes wrong it can not only cost you your life but your entire crews.

There was a groan then a loud snap, breaking the tense moment. Your eyes left the gun pointed at you and went to where the drugs were being lifted. One of the cables had snapped, the other was straining itself to hold the load. With the crew distracted you ran forwards, hitting the button to release the load. The net of drugs instantly dropped; the boat harshly swayed at the change in weight, sending you flying back into the side of the boat, nearly going over the edge.

You held onto the edge, trying to keep yourself upright. You turned around just as a shot rang out. An incredible force hit your shoulder, flipping you over the side of the boat. The cord that had broken free of the machine lifting the drugs entered the water, wrapping around your ankle as it trailed after the net it was connected to, the drugs you tried so hard to cut loose to save everyone was now dragging you to the bottom of the ocean. You weren’t a good person, you’d made a lot of bad choices in life, whatever the reason for those choices ultimately led you to where you were now. You always knew getting involved with this life was most likely a death sentence. Maybe the god of the sea would take mercy on you, maybe remake you into a shark or something cool. You weren’t that lucky though; the sea god was just as ruthless and merciless as the ocean he ruled. You were in his domain; you didn’t deserve his mercy.

You watched as the light from the boat slowly faded. You weren’t sure if they were leaving you, they probably were, or if you were too deep for light to reach, also probable, or made you were starting to blackout from whatever hit you, also highly likely. You deserved this, sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor, alone in the dark with nothing to do but rot. You deserved this.

Your eyes snapped open, the saltwater stinging them. You might have deserved to die like this but that didn’t mean you were going to make it easy. You were a fighter to the very end and there was no way you were going to sit back and just let the ocean take you. You swam up, trying to kick your foot loose from the cord it was tangled in. the cord seemed to only get more tangled, the pallet of drugs only pulling you deeper by the second. You felt around, searching your body for the knife you always kept on you. You let out an internal sigh of relief when your finger brushed the metal, your hand quickly gripping the rubber handle.

You freed your knife and swam down, the cord that was around your ankle was too thick to cut through, you were going to need to cut the net the drugs were in. You swam further down, black spots dancing in the corner of your eyes. You felt around, finally feeling the net, following the path of the net until you found where the cord around your leg connected to the net. You quickly dug the knife into the rope, sawing back and forth until the cord broke free. You didn’t waste a second, quickly swimming back to the surface.

You broke through the water, gasping for air, trying to keep your head above the water as the waves crashed over you. The storm was still raging, you looked around, seeing nothing but the glint of your knife in the moonlight. A few seconds after floating on the water, trying to reserve your energy since you didn’t know right from left in the ocean. If you just started swimming you could end up going further out to sea. You needed to find a piece of driftwood or something just to keep yourself afloat as the current guided you back to shore.

You sheathed the knife back at your side, not removing your hand until you knew it was secure. You reached down, bringing your leg up as you tried to detangle the cord from your ankle, while also keeping your head above the water. The cord was thick and heavy, it kept trying to drag you down but eventually you got it around your foot, kicking your foot to untangle the rest of it until you were finally free.

Something else broke the surface, making you jump but when you got closer you saw it, three tightly sealed packs of drugs. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, the drugs that seemed to be your downfall might be the thing that saved you. You swam to them, pushing them as close as you could together, holding them in place as they kept you afloat.

You pulled out your necklace that you always kept tucked under your shirt, giving it a kiss, silently thanking Poseidon or any other sea god that might exist. You didn’t necessarily believe in the Greek gods, but you grew up hearing those stories, fascinated by the mythology of it all. When you got into fishing your mother gifted you a little trident necklace and ever since you had never taken it off. You knew it was kind of stupid and your crew always made fun of you for it, but you always kissed it before going out to sea and held onto it during difficult times. You didn’t believe in it but on the off chance that the gods were real you wanted to show your support in some way, besides, representing the god of the sea and showing him respect didn’t hurt anything. It gave you comfort, believing in a god, believing that when you went out to sea you’d be protected and if the worse came, then you’d have somewhere to go, that your soul might be protected in the afterlife.

Or maybe Poseidon saved you only to let you die a far harsher death. Sinking to the bottom of the ocean isn’t ideal but it would have been quicker than your current predicament. Now you were floating in the middle of the ocean, a couple bags of drugs the only think keeping you from exhausting yourself and sending you back down to your demise. No one knew where you were, no one would come for you, your crew would lie about what happened and everyone would write you off as dead. You were soaked down to your bones, the top half of your body shivering in the moonlight, you had no food, no water. Your only hope of rescue was being close enough to shore that the tide would carry you in before you died from dehydration, which you knew wasn’t likely. Otherwise, your fate lied in the coast guard stumbling upon you or some unsuspecting fisherman catching sight of you as they set out for their catch.

You sighed, closing your eyes, yeah, the sea god was pissed at you. You couldn’t blame him; you did taint his ocean with drugs after all. You deserved everything that was coming to you. At least the rain stopped, maybe you were being shown mercy after all, maybe Poseidon wasn’t going to allow you to die alone, in the ocean, in the freezing rain. To most that wouldn’t seem like a kindness but for a god that was about as merciful as it got. You were lucky the waves weren’t still crashing over you, refusing to allow you to break through to the surface, fighting your way up and the surface just constantly being out of reach. If you were to die by simple dehydration, then you were lucky.

You had one arm stretched out over the packs of drugs to help keep them together, your fingertips dipping into the water with each movement of the waves. You rested your head against the packs, your eyelids becoming heavy despite your desire to keep them open. The last thing you saw was the moonlight before you finally lost consciousness.

Your eyes slowly fluttered, squinting as you tried to look around but quickly dropped your head back down when you didn’t have the strength to lift it. You groaned, as you reached over, touching your shoulder, gritting your teeth at the pain that shot through your entire body at the lightest touch. When you pulled your hand away, resting it in front of your face as you opened your eyes just a bit more to see your fingers coated red. With that your eyes slowly closed again.

You drifted in and out of consciousness, not able to open your eyes again. The sun beating down on you as you swayed with the waves. You weren’t sure where they were taking you, to shore, or further out into the ocean, inching closer to your demise with each wave.

The waves got rougher, making you regain consciousness for a second. It sounded like people were talking, you nodded thinking you finally succumbed to delusions and now you were hearing things. Certainly, it was only a matter of time before the ocean took you again, dragging you back down to your watery tomb.

Death never came though, you were gripped by the shoulders and hoisted upward, gently being placed back down on a hard surface. You tried to open your eyes, squinting as you saw a handful of silhouettes standing over you. One of them stood taller than the other, looking down at you as he pointed to the others, seeming to give them orders. When he turned, the sunlight hitting him just right, you could see he had a beard, he also smelled oddly like fish, maybe Poseidon was real after all, or maybe you smelled like fish, you were on a fishing boat the night before and had been in the ocean since then.

“Holy shit,” someone whispered, the first thing you could properly hear but your eyes wanted to remain closed as you tried to turn toward the voice.

“Let’s get back to shore!” someone ordered.

“We need to get them to a hospital,” another voice said. This voice was closer to you, and you felt pressure go to your injured shoulder, causing you to let out a cry, your body jolting from the pain but quickly flopping back down again.

“No,” you rasped out. “No hospital.” You tried to raise your hand to wave them off, but you didn’t think your hand ever left the ground. “No,” you breathed out before finally fully losing consciousness again.

[the-oblivious-writer]

[the-oblivious-writer]

I just had to share this

“Just kiddingg! …But maybe actually”

[the-oblivious-writer]

missin my goth gf...

[the-oblivious-writer]

[the-oblivious-writer]

[the-oblivious-writer]

Eid Mubarak to all of you who are celebrating. I know it's hard to get in the spirit this year as so many Palestinians spend their Eid starving and in tents but I hope your Eid is full of peace and love. May we see a free Palestine by next Eid.

[the-oblivious-writer]

this is how you lose the time war quotes that make me go balls to the wall insane + stick meme gore

[the-oblivious-writer]

The update was immaculate bestie, can’t wait to see what you have in store for us in the future. I literally reread it all just for that update, NO REGRETS.

R is the most oblivious mf on the planet, I mean come on Tara was a mess after that jenga game and practically ran out blushing- ALL THE SIGNS ARE THERE.

But then again I’m assuming R’s in the dark about it because of that angry drunken confession about ruining Tara’s peace. Was Tara blackout drunk? Maybe I’m an alcoholic but 5 beers is the right amount of drunk for me, as in I won’t have to ask my friends to recall the night for me. But I don’t think Tara would brush over a conversation like that if she did remember it, because homie was dying of guilt over that one argument she had with R where she blew up.

ALSOOOO DID TARA THINK CHAD WAS R AT THAT ONE PARTY? (Orrr?!?!)

We haven’t seen drunk R but I’m having a lot of fun imagine what that would be like. That liquid courage turning R into someone who’s loud, talkative and anything but shy.

I saw someone mention something about R falling asleep on Tara- what if Tara is taking care of drunk R for a change and R mindlessly pulls her in to cuddle her. Tara can’t do anything about it because R’s grip is strong and they’re already knocked tf out.

Love this AU so much, hope you have an amazing day!

Thank you ssm!! I really appreciate it, I love that you guys enjoy it enough to be able to go back and reread it

R truly is the most oblivious mf on the planet. She's the type of person who has no idea when she's being flirted with, no matter how blatant it may be, or how much the people around her try to spell it out

Still, you're not wrong about some of that obliviousness rooting in R being in the dark due to that night at Tara's place. What was R's excuse before that? Beats me. As for them not discussing the argument, it's definitely a mixture of her memory and crappy communication between the two of them (but let's be real, mainly the latter). It's one of those things where R doesn't bring it up because Tara didn't so R thinks that she doesn't wanna talk about it, and vice versa with Tara. Neither of them wanna bring it up unless the other does. Originally, in a previous draft, I was gonna go into this but I ended up scrapping that along with the whole thing cause it just wasn't flowing right. I may go into it in the next chapter though, I just wanna find a way to slide it in without it seeming forced. That argument they had previously (chapter five) is kind of like a mellowed out version of this one in a way, yk. And I think it's something to note that Tara was in fact sober for the first one, hungover, but sober. As for the last one, she was intoxicated at the time

Did Tara think Chad was R?? Hmm 🤔 Well, what I will say is that there's only one person Tara's been having dreams about kissing 👀

I can totally see drunk!R turning into someone more confident/outgoing

R and physical touch is gonna be an interesting thing to write. Let's just say, mf does not know how to react to a hug 😭 (real.)

I'm glad you love this AU, I love it too! Hope you have an amazing day also

[the-oblivious-writer]

"Famine is a useful word when you do not wish to use words like 'genocide' and 'extermination'."

- Frank O'Connor, Irish author.

[the-oblivious-writer]

GLOBAL STRIKE ON APRIL 15

"The terrorist Israeli occupation, after half a year, is still insisting on entering Rafah, which is the last city that still contains most of the population of the Gaza Strip.

80% of the Gaza Strip is destroyed and suffers from continuous military invasions, the movement of the Israeli army, besieging hospitals, commit massacres, destroy and blow up residential neighborhoods. And besieging the population and starving them.

The terrorist occupation is committing these crimes in front of the world, and is trying to have more time to destroy the hopes of the displaced to return and kill them with hunger and disease, and make the world get used to what is happening in Gaza and reduce media coverage and solidarity with Palestine, in addition to causing more destruction and strengthening the presence of the Israeli terrorists in Gaza in preparation for stealing the land.

Be smarter than them, and do not leave us to be killed and forgotten. *April 15 is a day of global strike*.. No schools, no movement, no work, no electronic payment, no gas stations. Make more noise and disturb the peace of terrorist politicians in America and IsraHell.

In the picture, me after half a year of documenting the genocide and surviving it daily without being sure of surviving the next day, and I will not stop until this genocide ends and I sit in the middle of my city feeling safe while I help my people rebuild Gaza."

Here's what to do:

Don't go to school or work (if you can)

Protest (if you can)

Do not shop anywhere

Do not use your credit card or use any money

Wear green, red, white and black clothes to show solidarity. Wear a badge, a keffiyeh, or anything that signifies your solidarity

Boost posts about Palestine, flood the media

Boycott!

[the-oblivious-writer]

I know I don’t have a large following. I know this post will get lost in the sea of other posts. I know I don’t come on here often, and when I do I try to keep my page free from death and other serious topics. Yet, I think this is imperative to say, especially since I myself am of indigenous descent. I ask all of you to join me in solidarity.

Cole Brings Plenty, actor, model, and most importantly activist was found dead. He was assaulted in a club in Lawrence, Kansas. He was killed and his braids; a symbol of his heritage, of his Lakota decent, and a sacred symbol across many an indigenous nation, were forcibly cut.

I beg of thee and I plead with thee, spread the word. Do your part, however big or little, to bring light to this situation. Whether it be by reblogging this post or others alike, or by going out and making a stand. Do it.

Shed light on the situation. This goes beyond the death of one man. It is about the abuse and the destruction of natives and their communities. Of the killing of many an innocent soul. Of the brutalization of many First Nations.

We have seen time and time again, many indigenous people die by similar means. We need to bring light on the deaths of any and all indigenous individuals dead, missing or at risk. It is an epidemic, an assault, and a silent cleansing of many a nation.

Whether it be the estimated 6,000 dead at the hands of Canadian residential schools, the murdered and missing indigenous women and children, or the killing of an actor and activist, you cannot deny the sheer abhorrence of this problem. The problem of many Native American people dying, going missing and being abused, at an alarming rate. At a level unprecedented and unparalleled, at a level of which should not be kept silent.

Cole Brings Plenty, actor, model, activist.

Look at him and spread awareness for him and for many others befallen by the same fate.

Remember him. Remember all of the others. Let nobody else befall the same fate again.

[the-oblivious-writer]

I don't even know what to say anymore. What more do I need to say? They bombed aid trucks. Bombed them. Aid trucks. Healthcare workers have to wear civilian clothing because wearing scrubs puts a target on their backs. Really, what else can I say to get people to understand how completely fucked everything is?

So the occupation bombs UNRWA, the Palestinian food aid lifeline in Gaza, then it tells the outraged world that World Central Kitchen will be allowed to help, then it bombs them as well. World Central Kitchen has now suspended operations and ceases distributing food. So now what is the message to any foreign aid worker who wants to enter and help Gaza?

[the-oblivious-writer]

I just have a quick question about R, are you going to give a back story on R and not just Dewey and stuff but like other stuff like in that chapter where her dad mentioned her getting into trouble in the past, I was just wondering if you were going to end up elaborating on that?

10000000% I'm going to do that. R's backstory is gonna be one of those things you get more of as we get farther along in the story. It's fun dropping hints/details regarding her past. It's definitely a flawed and complicated one which makes it even better in my eyes

[the-oblivious-writer]

hey! i love “let the light in”🫶. your writing is fantastic and i was wondering if u will update “daylight”?

i remember reading the blurb and loving the synopsis so i just wanna know how’s the wringing going for that, totally okay if u don’t wanna answer this btw! once again, i love your writing bro you’re so amazing

Thank you so much, and yes! At some point I'll be updating Daylight - just not 100% sure when. So far I have about half of the first chapter done so I just have to finish that up. I'm really glad you enjoyed the blurb, I hope the first chapter is also something you'll enjoy

[the-oblivious-writer]

day three waiting for the next chapter of let the light in..

Come back in 5-7 business days...

[the-oblivious-writer]

were amber and r friends? i could see them being friends and tara being constantly annoyed at readers presence whenever amber brings them around or whenever she was over at ambers house for a party or movie night or something. i could also see them being complete enemies and amber seeing thru the tension tara and r have and being territorial (if tara and amber did date in your universe) or even like a casual fling where tara hated r and always chalked it up to r being out of ambers league. i’m just wondering. i have such a buzz for your fic

Amber and R definitely had a hostile relationship, Tara being the unsaid reason. Amber and Tara were in fact dating in this universe so that added to Amber's behavior. When Tara and R's whole "enemies" dynamic started, Amber took notice pretty quickly; how on edge Tara was around you, how she noticed every little thing you did, how you and her always ended up in the same room, how she complained constantly about you - which meant she was also talking about you constantly. All little and not so little things that built up

Amber and R never outwardly spoke to each other though, much like how R didn't really talk to the rest of the friend group as mentioned in one of the previous chapters. But it would be subtle things; passive aggressive comments, dirty looks, Amber growing more possessive over Tara around R, things like that

Now take allll this in and remember that Amber killed the man R considered to be a dad above her own father