#Laurence doesn’t do anything

[loadingbones]

Skin/hair colour refs for myself

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 28 (Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)

CW: None. For real, none. Well, no- that's a lie. The warning is sand.

Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi

The soft sand shifted under your feet as you walked, arm looped around Alastor’s, bodies just brushing against one another as you walked. Above head, seagulls called and swooped through the air, living their lives as if there was nothing that could go wrong in the world. Late afternoon sunlight glittered against the waves as they lapped at the shore, reaching out toward you from the endless expanse of water. 

You walked barefooted, each step so close to Alastor’s bare feet. He had the legs of his pants rolled up, exposing his tan ankles and calves. Your shoes, tied to his laces, swung from your hands in time with each step you took. The ocean breeze cooled the warm air, ruffling your hair as it kissed your skin. 

Dinner was far from extravagant. Alastor had been right; there were little food carts and stands dotting the boardwalk. You had a meat pie in your hands, gravy rich and thick, surrounded in a flaky crust. It was simple, delicious and a perfect dinner shared while walking along the beach. 

Alastor chuckled as he wiped gravy from your cheek. “Enjoying it?” 

“Yes,” you dabbed at your face with the napkin, knowing it was a lost cause, Alastor had already wiped away the smear of gravy. “Laurence wouldn’t let me eat something as rich as this.” 

“Good thing he isn’t here,” Alastor said, slowing to a stop in front of a trashcan to toss his trash in. You did the same, only to be wrapped in his arms as soon as your hands were empty. “This weekend is for us, not him. He can’t touch us here. He isn’t here. It’s just you, me, and the ocean.” 

“I know,” you sighed, leaning into him. “I’m just- I don’t know how to do this, Alastor.”

“Just follow your heart,” Alastor said, kissing you softly when you turned to look up at him. “That’s all we’re doing. It doesn’t have to be anything more complicated than that, not right now.” 

“Okay,” you whispered, not knowing how to argue with him when he looked at you with those warm brown eyes. It wasn’t fair how he could stop your brain from thinking and send your heart beating too fast in your chest with something as simple as a look. 

“Good,” he said, kissing you again before tugging you down to the sandy beach, shoes swinging and bouncing between you. 

“I’ve never been to the beach.” You confessed as you kicked at the sand, sending it flying through the air as he lead you along. The soft sound of your laugh rang out when a seashell sailed along the wave of sand. 

“Never ever?” Alastor asked, kicking his own foot, sending more sand flying in front of you both. “Does that mean you’ve never built a sandcastle?” 

“Nope.” You giggled, feeling for the first time in a very long time like the young girl you had been before you were married. He began tugging you along as the walk became a jog, your skirt bunching over your knees as the pace quickened, sand kicking out from around both of your feet.

He pulled you closer to the water, soft dry sand giving way to heavier waterlogged sand. Then the splashing of water, the hem of your skirt and his pant legs soaked with the spray as you both continued running, freely. You only slowed as you came upon some trash, paper cups half burred in the sand. 

Alastor’s hand left yours, leaving you instantly wanting for the warmth of it again. Too soon, you wouldn’t be able to casually indulge in the feeling of his hand in yours. For what short time you had, you wanted to soak it up as much as you could. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as Alastor bent down, grabbing the wax coated cup in the best condition and examining it.

“Let’s make a sandcastle?” He held out the cup to you as if it was a prize. “Have another first with me?” 

“Alright,” you couldn’t help the laugh in your voice as he snagged the second cup, much worse for wear, and led you up higher along the beach, just out of the reach of the waves. 

“Here’s good,” Alastor said, tugging you down as he knelt in the sand. His large hand made quick work of smoothing the sand out. You struggled to pay attention to what he was doing, far more captivated by the boyish smile on his face.

Was that what he looked like as a young man? How lucky you would have been to have had the honor of knowing him before the weight of the world had really weighed on his shoulders. 

“Are you going to help?” 

Of course,” you answered quickly as you knelt in the sand. 

The grains clung to your damp skirt and wet feet as you scooped sand in your cup. When you turned the cup over, trying to stack the sand in a neat tower, you were faced with disappointment as ran freely off the pile. You pouted before trying again, refusing to be defeated by the simple task children would surely know how to do.

“Let me show you,” Alastor spoke softly, smiling as he stood. 

Sand clung to his pants just as it did yours. He didn’t spare it a thought as he jogged down to the water’s edge, filling the cup with water. You watched as he dumped it into the sand in front of you before reaching down, showing how it clumped in his hand. “Add a little water and it holds together.” Water splashed as he poured water into his hand. “Too much, and it runs freely again.”

Together, you and he stacked cupfuls of wet sand atop one another, sometimes squishing it down with your hands to form something wider for a base. Fingers brushed fingers in innocent, comfortable touches. Laughter carried on the ocean air as you took turns, running to the waves to collect more water. As towers came to life, tilted though they were, you couldn’t help but admit you were having the time of your life. 

With finger tips and seashells, you etched details into the wet sand and decorated the castle. At times, you or he ran off, searching through the sand for the perfect shell for a doorway or a window as Alastor sat in the sand, watching you.

The castle didn’t look good. It didn’t even look like a castle, really. But it was something you had built with your hands. It was something you created with Alastor and you loved it. 

There wasn’t much you could say was built during this thing you shared with Alastor. There was a bond, there was a stack of letters tucked into a slit in the bottom of your bag that you knew you really needed to burn, and now there was a rather terrible looking sandcastle. 

How little you had with him brought bitter tears to your eyes that you blinked away. What little you had with him was beautiful, a hidden gem that only you and he could see. You’d treasure it for as long as you could, the price it would cost you be damned. 

“What’s wrong?” Alastor asked, fingers working around your hand sitting on the sand. 

“Thank you,” you whispered to Alastor as you looked up from the creation, crumbling as it dried. 

“For what?” He asked, “I haven’t done anything.” 

“This weekend.” Looking down, you ran your fingers over the damp sand. “For being with me on my first trip to the coast.”

“I am honored to be your first anything,” Alastor said, leaning in and placing a soft, chaste kiss against your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as waves lapped at your toes with the rising tide. It was a matter of time before the waves swept away your creation. 

His hands rested on your hips as one kiss began melted into another. You breathed eachother’s air, and you tasted eachother’s lips as he pulled you closer. A gasp slipped out of you as he settled you into his lap. Alastor’s soft warm tongue slipped between parted lips after he nipped at your full lower lip. 

Strong hands ran up and down your back, taking in the feel of the zipper along your spine and the seams of the dress. You soaked in the feeling of his hands moving over you, braved doing the same with your own hands on his body. It felt like your heart would beat out of your chest as his lips left yours to trail kisses down your jaw. 

This was wrong, you knew that. It was indecent. It’s not how ladies carried themselves in public. It certainly wasn’t how a married woman should act. None of that mattered enough to you at the moment to ask him to stop. 

His lips worked along your neck, leaving fire burning under your skin. Careful nips that left a trail of pink that Alastor knew wouldn’t develop into any lasting marks that would raise questions littered your skin. You couldn’t help but tilt your head, giving him more space to work as your fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt. 

“This isn’t proper,” you whispered, gasping for air as his tongue ran along the straining tendon along your throat, up again to kiss under your ear. 

“There’s no one to see,” Alastor whispered. “And this is a town for lovers. We’re far from the first to neck on the beach.”

Letting your fingers relax, you ran your palm up his chest, around his shoulders. Everything about him felt so strong under your hand. There was no give, nothing but hot steel. It made you feel safe, secure in his arms. 

Cold water splashed over your back, soaking your hair and washing over your head. Icy water poured over your shoulders, splashing onto Alastor’s shirt. He jerked back from the sudden cold so harshly that he fell back against the sand. 

You fell forward with him, hair dripping down around you as the shocked look on his face bloomed into a smile and a roaring laugh. You couldn’t help but be pulled into it, laughing as his hands rested on your lower back. His chest jerked, vibrating with the joy of his laugh. 

“You’re soaked,” he whispered as he finally settled again. 

“So are you.” You marveled at how warm his chest felt under your hand. 

Leaning down, you hesitated, wanting to feel his lips on yours again. The idea of initiating a kiss when you were already in such a compromised position left you feeling shy, timid. This was something that happened in books, in movies, in daydreams. It wasn’t something anyone got to have in real life.

But you were here, laying atop Alastor, a man you loved. His warmth radiated up into you. The sounds of the beach were all around and yet what you could hear most of all was his breathing. 

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” Alastor whispered, head resting against the sand, wet hair giving way to curls.

Leaning down, you shut him up. Sighing into him, you melted as his hands ran up your wet back. Waves caressed up your legs, fighting for your attention while his hand tangled in your wet hair. 

This was right where you belonged. He was where you belonged. 

It felt good to lie atop him, the warmth of his body contrasting with the cold ocean water lapping higher along Alastor’s side and your legs with each wave. Water rushed up your skirt, sending sand along your legs, but you were far from eager to move. 

Alastor kissed you as if he would find salvation in your mouth and you let him. It was terrible, indecent. It was something you should have felt shame for, and yet there was nothing you wanted more than to feel him against you for every second you could. 

Alastor rolled his torso slightly, dumping you off of him and onto the sand. In a heartbeat, he was atop you, kissing you deeper still as his chest settled against yours, pushing you deeper into the sand.

It was on your sides now that the water lapped at but you didn’t care. This was your chance to wrap your arms around him, to touch his back and feel the way the muscles flexed under your touch. You were greedy with the opportunity, feeling the way his body warmed the wet shirt he wore. 

The warmth of his skin soaked into her hands. You couldn’t stop yourself from bunching the fabric under your fingers as you pulled him closer. The feeling of his lips again on your neck was driving you mad, leaving you a gasping mess, uncaring for the sand that your wet hair was surely collecting. 

You struggled to think. Had you known kissing someone could feel that good? That being kissed could feel as good as this. 

Alastor’s hand gripped your ribs as his lips worked along your collar, taking in the breathy gasps that slipped past your lips. 

He couldn’t help but wonder how much more you would let him push. The warmth of his hand spread as he caressed higher, gripping softly before moving on, always giving you a chance to stop him until his hand caressed the swell of your breast. 

There was nothing painful or taking in the way he touched you. Every caress left you gasping, begging, wanting more. Never had you wanted to be touched in such a way. 

You didn’t know it could feel good to be touched like this either. It left you wanting more of his touches. That fire in your belly was burning again, the need sending your hands on a greedy mission to take in the feeling of his torso, the muscles of his chest and arms. 

“We should get back,” Alastor said, lips moving against your neck, just above the collar of your dress as he spoke. “The sun is setting. Tide is coming in. We’ll be under water soon if we keep doing this here.” 

As if to reinforce Alastor’s words, a larger wave washed over your bodies, drenching your dress and Alastor’s pants. 

He pulled back, sitting up and helping you to do the same. You couldn’t help leaning into him, kissing him hard again, wrapping your arms around his neck before untangling again. 

The feeling of him was intoxicating. It was like his touch chased away every bit of pain from your life. He erased it all, leaving behind just the woman you could have been. You never wanted to leave this beach, this place where you could just be a girl in love. 

Alastor pulled you to your feet, chuckling at the sand in your hair and coating both of your clothes. 

“Let me rinse the sand out of your hair.” Alastor knelt down, grabbing the cup before filling it with ocean water. He then used to rinse the sand out, covering you in fresh water. 

You shook your head, flinging water and san everywhere. Holding his hands up, alastor laughed before doing the same. With the water in his hair, it had returned to the wild curls you had so rarely gotten to see. 

“What?” He caught you looking at him, face flushed. He looked as young as you felt in the moment. 

“Your hair looks good with the curls,” you whispered. 

“You say that now, it looks alright wet.” Alastor brushed off the compliment. 

“Will I get to see it dry?” You asked as he rinsed the sand from his own hair, shaking the water out again. 

“I suppose so,” he said after a moment, reaching out for your hand. “I don’t usually straighten it until after coffee.” 

“I look forward to seeing it,” you admitted blushing, walking hand in hand with Alastor as if you hadn’t just been taking in the feel of him in public. 

“I’ll get to see you with your wild morning hair as well,” Alastor pointed out, “It’s only a fair trade. Are you sure you still want to make this deal?” 

“I do,” you said after a moment of thought. “It’s a part of spending the weekend together, isn’t it?” 

Alastor rounded on you, snagging your chin between his fingers and pulling your face up to look at him. “It is,” he said, after placing a longing kiss on your lips. “As is continuing to act like young lovers.” 

“What does that mean?” You asked as his smile grew wider. 

“It means, let’s race.” 

Alastor’s laugh was all that was left of him as he tore off ahead of you. After blinking twice, you ran after him. Laughter spilled out from you as you ran as fast as your legs would carry you. 

Ahead of you, Alastor tripped, stumbling to catch himself as you closed the distance, heart hammering in your chest. Then his foot slipped out from under him and you overtook him, kicking up sand behind you. It shouldn’t have been possible, with the way your heavy wet skirt tangled between your legs.

The door was so close now. The rush of having Alastor hot on your tail pushed you forward. The cobble stones bit at your feet but you didn’t care. Faster, faster! 

You reached the door with a crash, turning to rest your back against only to be met with Alastor crashing into the door, pinning you between him and it. Both he and you were breathing hard, gasping for air. 

“I won,” you said, chest heaving with each gulping breath. He let you win, you knew that. He had a foot of height on you. With legs so much longer than yours and clearly being fit, you knew you had no chance to beat him in an actual foot race. 

“You did,” he whispered. 

You felt brazen, bold, as adrenaline still pumped through you and asked, “What’s my prize?” 

Alastor kissed you rather than answer, holding you firm between his body and the door. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers running through the damp curls at the back of his head as he worked his knee between yours. 

You gasped as he pressed his thigh into your core carefully. This was everything you had wanted, craved, and were too terrified to ask for. It was what you dreamed about, alone sitting in the tub as your hand ghosted over flesh you were still too scared to explore. 

Alastor held your hip tightly in his hand as he reached for the doorknob, working the door open. You giggled, floating on a cloud of elation as he pulled your lip between his teeth. There was a hint of pain as his teeth grazed over where your lip was still healing from the blows your husband had dealt. 

The pain should have made you cringe away but instead, you leaned into it. It felt like his teeth were scraping away the memory of what had been done to the lip, replacing it with a passion filled ache. 

“I love you, Alastor,” you whispered as his lips moved to your neck. “I shouldn’t, but I do.” 

“I love you too,” Alastor said and you couldn’t remember if he had ever said it to you before. Your mind was floating away as he replaced everything you knew. You wanted to hear him say it as many times as you could. 

Alastor wrapped his hand around behind the small of your back, grabbing ahold of you and pulling you tighter against his body as he twisted the knob. The door fell away from behind you and Alastor controlled the clumsy stumble into the villa, holding you tightly as he kicked the door closed behind him. 

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[crownomancer]

Today I’m thinking about William Laurence and about how strongly he believes in the foundational lies of English ideology, and how fascinating that is.

Because he learned that in England, honor stands above all else, that they are built on a system of reason and justice and progress. And we all know that as a colonialist state, these are the lies they tell to try and justify the atrocities they commit. England doesn’t really follow them. But William Laurence has buried these ideologies so deeply in his being that at first, he can’t believe England would ever be anything else. Then as he learns, he holds onto those ideologies so hard, actually attempts to uphold them, and it puts him in direct conflict with what England is actually doing.

Anyway, England hand cultivated this giant pain in the ass themselves, and that’s part of what makes Laurence’s story so tragic, but also so ridiculously funny.

[queenjunothegreat]

HELLO EVERYONE GUESS WHO'S BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (•̤̀ᗜ•̤́๑) I've got another @pjo-equinox-solstice-exchange fic for you, this time for the darling @lavndvrr who asked for Valgrace, so OBVIOUSLY that's what I went with. We also got a wee lil bit of hurt/comfort in there for some spice. I hope you like it!

The title comes from Paul Laurence Dunbar's poem "Good-Night" because I am clinging to my title of Most Pretentious Bitch In This City with pride.

And with that, here is And ease thy soul with slumber bright.

Piper chewed her bottom lip while she studied him. Eventually, she spoke. “Leo… doesn’t like sleeping.” “I’ve gathered that much,” Jason confessed. “Is there any reason for that? Any way I can help?” “I dunno.” Piper’s gaze drifted over to where Leo was still sitting, enjoying the breeze Jason had called for him. “He doesn’t like being exposed. There’s not really anything you can do, other than wait for him to feel okay around you.” She hiked a challenging eyebrow at him. “You willing to do that? You ready to wait?” For Leo? Anything. Jason shrugged. “Yeah, of course.” *-*-* Leo's not sleeping, and Jason is concerned. Unfortunately, there's only one thing Jason can do to help, and that's to simply love him.

Jason would freely admit that he was more than a little concerned about Leo. Beyond the usual levels of “mother henning” that Leo and Piper liked to accuse him of, that is. And it was all because he’d been in the middle of a really boring meeting, eyelids heavy, when he realized something unsettling.

Leo didn’t sleep. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He did sleep. Obviously he slept, even if he made it abundantly clear that he would give just about anything to avoid it. But he didn’t do it often, always the first one on the ship awake in the morning and the last one up at night, and Jason could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Leo asleep, and they were all during the quest to save Juno when they’d been stuck together on the back of a giant metal dragon together with nowhere to hide. Since that realization, Jason hadn’t been able to focus on anything but that, and now he was just sitting there staring at Leo with a crease across the middle of his forehead while Leo sat with his legs dangling over the side of the boat, tinkering with some complicated bits of bronze and wires. 

“Are you, like, actually gonna talk to me, or should I go hang out with Hazel instead? She said she could teach me how to paint my nails without making a massive mess. Because as much as I hate painting my nails, it would be better than this.”

Jason blinked in shock and turned to see Piper looking at him with her eyebrows up near her hairline and a half-smirk on her lips. He chuckled softly and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was, uh, distracted.”

“You don’t say.” She cocked her head to the side. “What are you thinking about?”

“Leo.”

“Well, you are breathing, so I had assumed that much.”

Jason felt his cheeks flame and he scowled at her. “Shut up.”

Piper didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. “So, what, specifically, are you thinking about Leo?”

Jason sighed and let his eyes trail back over to Leo, who had put away his little project, and was now just staring out over the sea, the sun beaming down on his cheeks. Without thinking about it too hard, Jason called a tiny little breeze to blow over Leo, the wind gently tugging at his curls and making him smile in easy contentment. Jason shook his head and turned back to Piper. “You roomed with Leo at Wilderness, right?”

Piper’s brow puckered, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh, yeah. For, like, three months. Why?”

“Did you ever see him sleep?”

Immediately, Piper stiffened, and she bristled up defensively. It was a stance Jason was more than familiar with, seeing as both Piper and Leo fell into it the instant someone asked a question that touched a little too close to those sensitive parts of their pasts. Jason had learned by now that the best way to handle these moments was to just sit back and let them scowl at him suspiciously. He couldn’t get his feelings hurt and push at them or try to desperately backtrack what he said, he just had to sit there and wait until their hackles went down and they approached him like a hesitant alley cat of their own volition.

As expected, Piper’s shoulders relaxed and her brow smoothed out and she instead went to chewing her bottom lip while she studied him. Eventually, she spoke. “Leo… doesn’t like sleeping.”

“I’ve gathered that much,” Jason confessed. “Is there any reason for that? Any way I can help?”

“I dunno.” Piper’s gaze drifted over to where Leo was still sitting, enjoying the breeze Jason had called for him. “He doesn’t like being exposed. There’s not really anything you can do, other than wait for him to feel okay around you.” She hiked a challenging eyebrow at him. “You willing to do that? You ready to wait?”

For Leo? Anything. Jason shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure?” Piper asked. “It took, like, two months for him to get comfortable with me and we literally lived together.”

That was a startling revelation. The idea that there had ever been a point in history when Leo didn’t implicitly trust Piper was almost ridiculous. Still, he just shrugged in easy acceptance again. “Yeah, sure. He can take however long he needs. I’m not going anywhere.”

Piper gave him a beaming smile, and Jason knew he’d said the right thing. “You really aren’t, are you?”

Jason quirked his mouth up in a smile, and let his gaze settle comfortably on Leo again. This time, though, Leo glanced over, his eyes bright and his lips curled up lazily. Jason gave a little tiny wave and Leo tipped his head back with a laugh that Jason couldn’t hear, but still made his heart thump heavily in his chest. 

Yeah, I’m not going anywhere.

*-*-*

After that conversation, Jason had somewhat forgotten his observation. Piper had told him to wait for Leo to come to him, and he was more than willing to do just that. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Leo would eventually turn around and see Jason standing there with arms outstretched and allow himself to be wrapped up and squeezed tight. Metaphorically, that is. Literally, Leo was already more than comfortable with Jason’s proclivity for physical contact and his love of proximity, which Jason was glad for. If he hadn’t been allowed to fold his favorite people tight to his chest and give them gentle headbuts and rub their cheeks together, he’s pretty sure he would have started ripping his hair out. 

Piper didn’t exactly love all of Jason’s physical affection. She was happy to receive hugs and she’d hold his hand or press kisses to his cheeks, but she liked to keep it brief. She didn’t like being tangled up and held in place so Jason could show her just how much he appreciated her existence, and that was just fine with him. She still gave him those blinding smiles and spoke to him in that kind tone and would sit in silence at his side for hours at a time. Jason knew Piper loved him, she just needed room to breathe while she loved him.

Leo was an entirely different story, though. For as much as Jason wanted to tuck Leo into that little spot behind his ribs and beside his heart where he knew Leo would be safe forever, Leo seemed just as eager to crawl right under Jason’s skin and live there. There wasn’t a moment where Jason and Leo were relaxing together when Leo wasn’t all but plastering himself to Jason’s side. Not that Jason made it all that easy for him to do anything else, seeing as he was immediately reaching for Leo with grabby hands the moment he’d made himself comfortable on the couch. Piper liked to laugh at them, but Leo would always scoff and accuse her of jealousy from the comfort of his and Jason’s cuddle pile.

They were in the middle of one of those cuddle sessions when Jason was forcibly reminded of his conversation with Piper. The whole crew was piled up in the living room, having a Percy-mandated movie night. Annabeth had pulled the short straw (Jason wasn’t about to accuse anyone of cheating, but he highly suspected it) and she’d chosen Wizard of Oz of all things. Percy had gone completely red and bashful at her choice, which Jason didn’t understand until Piper leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper and told him and Leo that Wizard of Oz was the first movie Annabeth had ever seen, and it was a movie Percy had watched with her. Leo had snickered, but Jason confessed he found the gesture very sweet and more than a little romantic. Leo accused him of being a sap, his gaze soft and his smile fond.

Unfortunately, for as romantic a gesture as the choice was, the movie itself wasn’t exactly entertaining. Percy and Annabeth were obviously enthralled, and Hazel was still fascinated with any and all color film, but Frank was zoned out and playing with a Chinese finger trap, and Piper was actively snoring from her place on the floor in front of Jason and Leo. 

Beside him, Jason heard Leo huff and felt him burrow even closer to Jason’s side. He smiled softly and tugged Leo impossibly closer. “Tired?”

“Bored,” Leo corrected. He shifted around until he could grumpily squish his cheek up against Jason’s chest. “This movie is a snooze fest. Can’t believe this is how Percy introduced Annabeth to cinema. I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

Jason chuckled and rested his chin in Leo’s dark curls. “Don’t worry about it. If you do fall asleep, I’ll wake you up, if you want.”

Leo went stiff as a board, and Jason cursed himself, furious that he’d gone and drawn attention to the matter. Still, he deliberately kept his breathing slow and even, like he hadn’t said anything at all. Leo didn’t speak, but his fingers were tapping out Morse code messages on Jason’s chest so fast a professional decoder would have trouble keeping up, and Jason was half-certain Leo was going to hop to his feet and flee. 

Yet he remained still. 

“You’ll wake me up?” Leo asked softly. 

“Of course,” Jason promised without a second’s hesitation. “I’ll keep an eye out, make sure nothing interesting happens.”

Leo chuckled and settled back against Jason’s chest. “I’ll hold you to that, Superman.”

Leo never did fall asleep for the rest of the movie, or even the one they put on after. But he remained at Jason’s side, and his breathing was slow and even and his eyes drooped heavily. A sharp tension that Jason had never noticed before was suddenly absent from Leo’s shoulders, and Jason realized that for the first time ever, Leo was completely and totally relaxed. Leo wasn’t asleep, they hadn’t gotten there yet, but this felt important. 

Jason couldn’t help but press his giddy smile into Leo’s curls. Take as long as you need. I’ll be here. 

*-*-*

Jason was on night watch the next time he thought about Leo’s sleep issues. In all honesty, he liked the night watch, especially when the Argo II  was in the air, rather than the water. He liked prowling around the deck, empty other than himself, and getting lost in tracking the way the air flowed around the ship, keeping it aloft with a breathtaking combination of engineering and magic. Leo’s work in bringing the ship to life from nothing but a twelve-year-old crayon drawing had always impressed Jason, but there was something about getting to actually feel the way Leo’s work cut through his element that left him near breathless in wonder. 

Plus, if he was on the night watch, that meant none of his crew members were, and there was a little part of his brain that insisted he take care of them that he couldn’t ignore. If he was on night watch, that meant that all of his friends were safe and asleep in their beds, resting easy with the knowledge that Jason was awake to protect them.

Well, most of his friends were asleep.

“Leo?” Jason called softly. “What are you doing up here?”

Leo jerked upright with a sharp gasp, and he whipped his head around, eyes wide. When he saw that it was Jason looking at him, he sagged in relief and let his eyes slide back shut. “Hey, Jason.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Jason accused, keeping his tone gentle. He lightly stepped into the crow’s nest from where he’d been flying moments before, and took a seat at Leo’s side. He snaked his arm around Leo’s waist and tried not to feel too pleased when Leo slumped into his side and thunked his head down on Jason’s shoulder. “What are you doing up here?”

Instead of answering, Leo fiddled with the hem of Jason’s shirt for a moment. “What are you doing up here?”

“Feeling the air flow,” Jason answered easily. “I can sense it when I’m grounded, but it’s easier up here. If I focus, I can almost see the air currents and the wind moving around the ship.”

“Huh,” Leo said softly. “That’s neat.”

“It is,” Jason confirmed. He smiled over at Leo then. “I know I’ve said it before, but you really did a good job making this thing, Leo.”

Leo shrugged half-heartedly. “It’s not that great. Besides, it’s not like I built it by myself.”

Jason was shaking his head before Leo could even finish speaking. “No, it’s more than that. This ship is yours. Even if other people helped build it, you’re the one who made it, and everyone except you would agree. And it really is that great. I told you I was feeling the air, right? Do you know why I like doing that?”

“I figured it was some Sky Boy thing.”

“It’s not.” Jason closed his eyes and smiled softly, losing himself in the airflow again. “I like it because it lets me feel the ship in a way no one else can. I can feel the way you made it all work. I can feel the way the engine manipulates the air, I can feel the magic that it uses.” He chuckled quietly. “It’s all very Leo.”

“That’s, um–” Jason heard Leo swallow heavily. “That’s neat.”

“It’s amazing,” Jason corrected. “The work you did is amazing, Leo. You’re amazing.” He opened his eyes to see that Leo was already staring at him, cheeks vermilion, and he smiled. “This ship? It’s beautiful, Leo.”

“I-” Leo cut himself off with a choked noise and tucked his face into Jason’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Jason huffed out a quiet laugh and pinched out a few of the tiny flames that had sparked to life in Leo’s curls. “You’re welcome. I mean every word.”

Leo swallowed heavily enough for Jason to hear again. “I know you do.”

Jason hummed, content with Leo’s response and started combing his fingers through Leo’s hair. He curled each lock around his finger before pulling it taught and releasing it to watch it bounce back in place. Every now and then another little fire would spark to life, but he’d smother it just as quickly as it formed, delighting in the way the flame would dance over his fingers for just a moment.

Then, Leo broke the silence. “Do you still wanna know why I’m up here?”

Jason hummed softly, considering. “If you wanna tell me, yeah. If not, I’ll live with not knowing.”

“Okay.” Leo was back to tugging on Jason’s shirt hem, picking at the loose threads with his bitten-off fingernails. Jason said nothing, and just waited until Leo cleared his throat. “I, um, had a nightmare.”

Jason’s attention immediately piqued and he frowned. He wanted to ask so many questions. Was it a nightmare about the quest? Was it a message from a god? Or was it a nightmare not related to any demigod stuff at all? Was he dreaming about his past, or was it a classic teenage nightmare like showing up to school in his underwear? Did he want to talk about it? Was there anything Jason could do to help? Would he be content to sit back and let Jason fix everything that was wrong in his life or would that be too much to ask? 

Instead of any of that, he just nodded in sympathy. “So you come up to the crow’s nest after nightmares? Can’t sleep?”

“Don’t want to, more like,” Leo muttered. “I just– I hate that moment when you wake up, you know? That moment when you’re not in the dream any more, but you realize that you’re still in danger because you were just asleep. Makes me sick. So I come up here to get as far away from everyone as possible.”

Jason didn’t understand that feeling. Not fully, at least, but he doubted Leo expected him to. So, he just hummed softly. “I get it, man. You want some company, or do you wanna be alone?”

Leo’s fingers fisted in Jason’s shirt like he was worried Jason would leave, but his tone was light and teasing when he said, “You know I’ll never say no to your company, Superman.”

“Alright then,” Jason agreed easily, feeling like his chest was going to burst from pride. “You’ve got it for as long as you want it.”

They fell into silence after that, neither of them speaking a word until the sun rose up over the horizon and Piper called them down for breakfast. Leo just stayed curled up next to Jason, playing with his shirt hem and tracing patterns on his chest and tapping out messages Jason had no hope of deciphering. He didn’t sleep, but he did rest, and Jason was more than content to keep watch over him as he did so. 

*-*-*

Jason hadn’t been sleeping well. Not since Percy and Annabeth– Not since Rome. Every night he laid in bed, perfectly still like he’d been called to attention, and with a few practiced deep breaths, he was asleep, just like he’d been trained. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how many hours of sleep he got, he woke up the next morning just as exhausted as he had when he’d gone to bed. Every day he woke up and gritted his teeth through whatever the gods threw their way, before collapsing into bed and falling asleep so he could do it all again the next day.

But that wasn’t happening tonight. For some reason, Jason couldn’t sleep. He’d done everything he knew how to do, but there was something keeping him awake. Something gnawing at his consciousness that told him he couldn’t sleep. Something that said he had to stay awake. That there was something he needed to do. 

He growled softly and threw himself out of bed, storming (almost literally) down the silent halls. Coach hadn’t been enforcing the curfew recently, and even if he tried, Jason wasn’t in the mood to listen. He was at the end of his rope. He needed to get rid of this energy. He needed to find one of the training dummies and slash and hack at the thing until it was nothing but a sad pile of straw and Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. He needed to–

He froze suddenly, all the tension and aggression draining from his body in an instant. 

He wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten there, but he realized he was outside of the engine room door, and he heard something that he couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t the sound of tears, but it was careful, even breathing, each inhale and exhale counted and measured out. It wasn’t the sound of tears, but instead the sound of fragile refusal of them. Considering where he was, there was only one person who could be on the other side of that door. 

Jason crept into the engine room, and as expected, Leo was there. He had his back to the door, his forehead pressed to the superheated metal of the main boiler, and he was breathing deeply, counting softly in Spanish with every breath. His hands were clenched in tight fists on either side of his face, and Jason could see the way he was visibly trembling from head to toe. Jason bit his lower lip for a moment before he called out in a hushed whisper, “Leo?”

Leo gave a full-body flinch and spun on his heel, eyes bright with fury. “What the heck, Jason?” he snapped. He roughly scrubbed one of his hands over his face to get rid of his scowl. “Don’t you know not to scare stressed-out demigods? Very good way to get skewered.”

“You don’t carry a weapon.”

“Charbroiled, then.”

Jason didn’t respond, he just furrowed his brow in concern. “Are you okay?”

Leo gave him a look. “Just peachy, dude.”

Jason sucked his teeth for a moment before he spoke. “I know Nico’s been spending a lot of time in the crow’s nest. Is this where you’ve started going after nightmares?”

Leo snorted derisively. “No nightmares here. In fact, I’m the least likely person on this ship to get nightmares.” When Jason made a questioning noise, he got a rueful grin in response. “You gotta sleep to have nightmares.”

Jason’s brow furrowed, and he swallowed around a lump in his throat. He looked at Leo a little closer and realized that the ever-present bags under his eyes were even darker and puffier than usual. “I’m a little scared to ask, but when was the last time you slept?”

Leo shrugged casually. “Rome.”

“Leo,” Jason breathed. He felt sick. “Leo, that was almost two weeks ago. How are you even still alive?”

“So long as I have a project to work on, I physically don’t need sleep,” Leo explained like he was walking Jason through another simple math problem. “It’s a gift from dear old dad.”

Jason squeezed his eyes shut and took in a few deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shout or cry, but he knew both would only make things worse. “Why?”

“Hm? Oh, I dunno. I guess since he’s the god of making stuff we get, like, super hyperfocus. I bet you the Athena kids can–”

“No. I mean, why are you doing this?”

Leo’s teeth clicked shut and he looked away from Jason. “Someone’s gotta keep this ship running.”

“You didn’t have to do this before.”

“Things are different now.”

Jason clenched his fists at his sides. “Leo, you need sleep.”

“Don’t you get it? I can’t,” Leo snapped, his fury from before returning. “I can’t sleep, Jason! I can try all I want and I’m never going to! It’s just never going to happen! At least this way I’m not being useless! I told you, I don’t need sleep.”

“You said you don’t physically need sleep,” Jason corrected. “Sleep is more than just physical. Everybody needs sleep to function. Good sleep.”

“I bet Percy and Annabeth are getting some really good sleep down in Tartarus.”

The air went tense between them and Jason couldn’t breathe. “Is that what this is about?”

Leo jerked his head away again. “No.”

“Liar,” Jason accused immediately. He stepped forward and gently took one of Leo’s hands in both his own. “Do you… Do you think you don’t deserve sleep? Because of that?”

Leo still wouldn’t meet his eye, but his hand twitched in Jason’s hold until he had his fingers wrapped around Jason’s pinky and he squeezed. “I– No, that’s ridiculous. I just wanna make sure the ship stays in one piece so we can rescue them. That’s all.”

Jason ignored him and stepped closer, staring at Leo’s face as hard as he could to make his point clear. “It wasn’t your fault, Leo.”

Leo squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes, it was.”

“It wasn’t,” Jason insisted. “I don’t care what you say. You’ve told me about the cookie already. You did that to save Frank and Hazel. Percy and Annabeth wasn’t your fault any more than it was mine or Piper’s or Nico’s or anyone’s. If it had anything to do with that fortune cookie, then it would be Nemesis's fault. Not yours, Leo. Never yours.”

Leo was shaking like a leaf in winter now, and when he looked up at Jason his eyes were wet with tears. “Jace?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired.”

Jason felt his heart shatter right into a million pieces. He dropped Leo’s hand, but only so he could hold open his arms in invitation. “Then sleep, Leo.” Leo stumbled forward the few steps between them before he crumpled into Jason’s chest with a sob. Jason squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped Leo up in a hug so tight it made his shoulders ache. He slowly lowered them both to the ground until he was leaning against a wall, and Leo was curled up against his chest in his lap. He pressed his trembling lips to Leo’s forehead. “Just sleep, Leo. I’ll take care of you.”

It took a long time for Leo’s tears to run dry, but eventually they did and his gut-wrenching sobs trailed off into the softest, gentlest snores Jason had ever heard in his life. Jason didn’t sleep at all that night. He stayed awake, arms wrapped securely around Leo and eyes boring holes in the door, daring anyone to come in and disturb the fragile peace that had fallen between them. Jason didn’t sleep that night, but Leo did, and that was all that mattered. 

*-*-*

Jason groaned as he shuffled down the hall, trying desperately to stretch out the ache in his back. He’d slept a little funny the night before, which meant, of course, that his whole body was going to be in pain all day. He once again found himself cursing sixteen-year-old Jason for doing, well, everything that he’d done, leaving thirty-year-old Jason to deal with the mess. Sixteen-year-old Jason may have been the one getting attacked by monsters and nearly dying on a bi-weekly basis, but thirty-year-old Jason was the one with a job, a caffeine addiction, and semi-chronic back pain, so who really had it worse, hmm? 

But for as much as some parts of getting older sucked, Jason couldn’t, and more importantly wouldn’t, say he hated it. He loved getting older, and he was keenly looking forward to every ache and pain and discomfort that came with getting to live the years ahead of him. Getting older meant sorting through junk mail and paying bills and long, frustrating phone calls with his internet service provider, but it also meant home. It meant deep breaths, knowing he was allowed to just be. It meant a house he’d helped pick out and a mattress that needed to be replaced after years of use and a coffee pot given to him for his birthday that was too fancy for him to properly use but still made a fantastic pot every morning. It meant knowing he was safe and happy and loved and that nothing was going to change that. 

It also meant a much more rigorous shaving routine, he thought to himself, scratching at the prickly fuzz on his cheek. He’d have to go to the bathroom and shave as soon as his coffee got started, otherwise he wasn’t going to get kissed.

He was suddenly interrupted by a very sharp nose being pressed hard in between his shoulder blades and thin arms being wrapped around his waist. He chuckled softly and squeezed the hands laced in front of him. “Good morning, Leo.”

“I was sleeping,” Leo complained in his sleep-thick slur, pressing even closer to Jason’s back like he was trying to fuse with his spine. “Woke me up.”

“I did not,” Jason protested. “I was very careful. You stayed asleep the whole time I was getting out of bed. How is this my fault?”

“You left,” Leo said simply. Jason turned around in Leo’s arms and Leo thumped his cheek down on Jason’s chest to scowl up at him. His hair was a mussed up mess, and his eyes were puffy and a little crusty with sleep, and his face was all smooshed up and covered in crease marks from their sheets, and his brow was furrowed in a furious pout. 

He was the single most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen.

“I’m sorry I left you,” Jason teased, stooping over to press their foreheads together. “I promise I was planning on coming back.”

“You better,” Leo mumbled. Jason leaned forward just a bit more to press their lips together and Leo let out a soft sigh of contentment. Then he lifted his hands to cup Jason’s cheeks like he always did, and he suddenly recoiled, flapping his hands around like he’d stuck them in something disgusting. “Bleh! Gross! Go shave your face!”

Jason laughed before he used his hold on Leo’s waist to drag him closer, and he started rubbing his hairy jaw all over Leo’s neck, just to hear him squeal. Once Leo resorted to smacking, Jason relented and just pressed their foreheads together again with a grin, delighting in the blotchy red beard-burn that was already starting to form. “I love you.”

 “Yeah, well, I actually hate you,” Leo informed him with a huff. To prove his point, he pressed a kiss to the tip of Jason’s nose. “Now, come on. I wanna go back to sleep.”

“Oh?” Jason’s eyebrows flew up near his hairline. “Am I allowed back in your bed? I thought you hated me.”

“I’ve decided that I love sleep more than I hate you,” Leo informed him. 

“And you can’t sleep without me?”

“Duh. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Jason chuckled softly, love blooming bright and warm in his chest. He pressed a kiss to Leo’s forehead, ignoring Leo’s gagging at the feel of his stubble. “Okay, I’ll be there. For as long as you want me, yeah?”

Leo grinned then and hugged Jason, eyes shining as he looked up at him. “Get ready for a very long day in bed then, Mr. Valdez.”

“I think I can live with that,” Jason smiled back, running his fingers through Leo’s curls. “You go back to bed and I’ll be there as soon as I get my coffee.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Leo groaned like the most put-upon man on Earth as he slumped out of the kitchen. When he was out of sight, he shouted down the hall, “And get that gross stuff off your face before you come back!”

Jason laughed then, loud and bright and filling the home he’d made with Leo. Still, he dutifully made his way to the bathroom to shave, though he did deliberately miss a tiny little patch under his jaw for Leo to pet and complain about later. Then he filled up his biggest coffee thermos, knowing he wouldn’t be given permission to leave the bed for several hours, and made his way to the bedroom, where he was welcomed in with lazy smiles and jaw-cracking yawns and luxurious, cat-like stretches. 

As always, Leo curled right up against Jason’s chest with a contented sigh. He didn’t fall asleep immediately, but he did completely melt, fiddling with the buttons on Jason’s shirt and tapping out I love you on Jason’s chest, which he returned each time with a kiss to Leo’s hair. But then he did fall asleep, right there in Jason’s arms, pressed right to Jason’s heart. In his sleep, he snored, the sound loud and grating like a chainsaw in need of a tune-up, and he drooled, and his face twisted up in weird expressions, and he managed to pin Jason’s arm in a way that kept him from drinking his coffee and almost immediately made it go numb. 

And he was beautiful. 

[erroryeswifi]

Yay! Thank you for responding to my last ask :) I absolutely love the family (Steve, Larry and Rob) Can I know your Mr. Small or Robert headcanons too?

Oughh This one’s pretty long, so once again putting it under a cut ⬇️

(Like last time, if u don’t care abt me yapping there’s some drawings down there too haha)

• Mr Small likes anime and cosplay.

The biggest reason for this is his cosplay of Sailor Moon in “The Ghouls” episode. But along with cosplay I feel like he just likes to dress up in general. He has a surprisingly large amount of outfits throughout the series like: The honesty bear (The sock), Criminal Bozo fit (The allergie), Classic Hippie fit (The Silence), The Small hours music video fits (The Singing) and a couple more that he wears frequently like his rollerblading fit and his meditation fit. And those are just the ones that come to my head first, there’s definitely more in the show I think. He also has a bunch of outfits in the comics but I haven’t read those (yet. I really want them)

Similarly Larry does the same thing actually. Although, it makes more sense for him since he does it specifically for work reasons (And we see him so much more often). The thing is about Larry’s outfits is that I think are especially cute is that he dresses up for his role (specifically as a stereotypical worker you’d expect to see in whichever store he’s in) even if there isn’t a specific uniform. I’ve made a post about this before right here. Basically something I noticed is that he puts on temporary tattoos for a few of his jobs, not to mention he literally put on a fake gotee for his barber outfit. I like to think Larry is too busy to have his own hobbies but he accidentally adopted dressing up and he thoroughly enjoys it, even if he’s not exactly aware that he’s doing it.

• Rob takes both of Larry and Steve’s last names after being adopted.

I’ve thought for a long time which last name was gonna be their family last name but I was sooo hung up about it cuz both Larry and Mr Small’s last names are pretty important to their work. Larry is known all over town for being “Larry Needlemeyer” so it would be a pain to get that changed for him and be bad for his publicity as a well known worker. As for Mr Small he’s literally a teacher, everyone at his workspace adresses him by last name so it would be strange for him to change names as well. Basically what I’ve settled with for now is that they would share a hyphenated last name. So Mr Small’s would be “Steven Needlemeyer-Small” and Larry’s would be “Laurence Needlemeyer-Small”. This same thing would apply for Rob with him being “Rob Needlemeyer-Small”. I feel like this would be the best way for them to share a family name while staying consistent and least confusing. Plus it won’t affect neither Steve’s or Larry’s jobs all that much.

• Rob has a million nicknames

We all know the gag about Rob being called different names. I think it would be fun if when Larry and/or Steve calls for him (whether they need help or he’s in trouble) they call him by different variations of “Rob” like: Robert, Robbie, Roberto etc… I think his legal name would be still be just “Rob” tho, there’s really no reason for it to be anything else as that’s the name he remembers after getting out of the void.

• Mr Small is really bad at relationships

The thing about Mr Small his the he is one of the few middle aged adults in the show without a spouse or family members at all. Almost all of the middle aged adults in the show are the same age, we know this because they all went to school together but most importantly because they all went to prom together. My point is, almost all of the people he went to school with are either married, dating someone or have children of their own. Meanwhile he is single, no known family and doesn’t seem to have many friends outside of work. We even see him talking to Mr Corneille about his struggles online dating (The Wish), admittedly he wasn’t on a dating website but rather a pizza delivery app but that even further shows how he’s not super good with social queues and close relationships as he couldn’t tell the difference.

To contrast Mr Small, Larry is super good with people interactions. Obviously, with his work he needs to be. But as far as romantic relationship go, I think he’d be a very stereotypical good boyfriend type. Where he’d take his dates to nice restaurants, buy them flowers or go for walks. He likes things simple and classic.

• Rob likes video games

Idk I don’t really have a reason for this one. I think he’d constantly play Super Smash Bros on a Nintendo switch he was gifted for Christmas or smth lmaoo. The idea of him ragging online is very funny to me, especially if it’s stupid simple kids games where there isn’t much brain power to do them. He’d stream “Playing Fireboy and Water girl by myself!” if Larry let him.

Okay that’s already too much writing for one post, but if you wanna know more feel free to ask for it! ❤️

(I may not answer right away, but I appreciate the asks really!)

[cypheroo]

Morning Confessions | Laurence Zvhal

"Hi can I request a fic with Laurance complementing the reader but she doesn’t believe him and he tries to prove that he serious?"

Word count : 774

Tw : none?

AN : SO, I tried to follow the request :) AND I have two more Laurence ficss coming soon (a siren x Laurence one and an angsty Laurence one both of which are long asf), so I wanted to get this one written!

Laurence was so handsome…he had such a charm to him, and gosh even just a light graze of his touch would send Shivers up your spine. And he knew this, he knew because he looked at you a lot more now than before. His ‘accidental’ touches seemed to happen more now.

Some people would say he might be feeling the same way you do, but his eyes were for lord aphmau, not for you. And those thoughts alone kept you from asking him if he felt the same. He was just teasing you at this point, toying with you the way a flirt would with anyone, you and him being friends didn't make much of a difference either.

And this morning was no different, Laurence and you were both sitting in the town square, both sipping your respective drinks, chatting the early morning away. It was so nice, being able to meet with Laurence like this, sure you wished you'd be able to call this a date…but it was ok! You were content.

“Really! Come on, how long do you think Brendon will really be into kawaii-chan?” Laurence questioned, “I dunno? The real question is when another person will catch His eye” you answered jokingly. “True. I'm surprised he hasn't tried his hand at aphmau” Laurence joked before he took another sip of his drink. You Shrugged and Looked back out at the main square looking around, no one was really out this early, most still being inside asleep. It was quiet for a moment before you felt Laurence's eyes on you, you held still trying to act like you didn't notice, “your eyes look really pretty against the morning light, has anyone ever told you that?” Laurence asked, his voice a tad bit more serious this time.

You felt your stomach get butterflies over his words…his tone, and the idea that it Was directed to you? You turned your head to him and laughed softly, “and who are you trying to impress Mr?” You asked as you shook your head, “you're just being nice” you cleared your throat trying not to sound too shaken up by his words. “No, I'm being serious. your eyes are absolutely beautiful, if you don't mind” as the last Few words of his sentence left his mouth he set his drink on the floor and slowly cupped your cheeks, forcing you to face him, “let me get a closer look, honey” the pet name rolling off his tongue easily. His eyes narrowed as he focused on your eyes.

You felt your face get warm, hell you felt your whole body get warm as the man in front of you studied your face, “your eyes are stunning” he moved his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head.

You couldn't take it as you pulled away and stood up, “oh wow, haha. Funny joke Laurence you can quit it now” you waved him off and faced away from him, trying to calm yourself down.

“joke?” Laurence joined you in standing up. “I'm not kidding. seriously” he insisted. Before you looked back at him with some fake unimpressed look. “Laurence you gotta stop testing out your little pick up lines on me” you said with a small smile and furrowed brows. Your look was matched with laurences confused look, “testing? You think I'm testing them on you?” He asked, almost flabbergasted. “yeah? For lord aphmau, you know full well she'd never let you cup her face like that” you continued with a small hum.

Laurence was quiet for a while, he was absolutely surprised you'd even bring lord aphmau into this when he had been trying to hint at you for months about his feelings about you.

“none of anything I've said to you has been for testing, not for lord aphmau or anyone else.” He stated, his eyes slightly more assured, “to put it quite frankly you're the only one I've used these ‘pick up lines’ on. His words were very self assured which made you confused, “wait so…everything you've said- no way laurence” you couldn't even fathom it. “No way? No way I'm looking at you with hearts in my eyes?” Laurence joked as he crossed his arms. “No way I say these things to get you flustered?” He continued, “no way I say what I mean?” He whispered close to your ear.

You shook your head, “no that'd mean-” you started as Laurence nodded, “that I've fallen for you?” Laurence finished. He nodded with a laugh. His hand slowly grazing your shoulder as he moved in front of you, "Baby, im in love with you. And eyes don't lie. It's clear you feel the same, " he purred as he moved closer to you. "So understand my words are made for only you to hear," he continued. "So please... take my compliment?" He asked with that stupid smirk you hated to love. It was when your eyes met his once more that you slowly smiled and nodded.

Tags :

[sillyteenagegirlinlovewithblocks]

All my head cannons for aphmau characters.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Zvahl family. 

Laurence is Italian. 

He’s 5’11

Laurence is a charmer. flowers, dinner dates , stay in dates, anything romantic he gots it. 

He’s very bi and is constantly confused. ( me to laur) 

Laurence was a highlighter kid.

He has really bad Separate anxiety especially from partner. 

He has an iPhone 8 and will keep that thing until he dies or it is dust. I mean like the screen is falling off a little it’s cracked and laggy. 

He can’t do math or tell time on an actual clock. 

He’s dyslexic. ( same same) 

Because he grew up on a farm imma say he’s helped multiple animals give birth. 

Never really had a crush on aphmau he thought he did but he was just jealous that garroth was putting his attention into her and not him. 

Ro’Meave family.

garroth switched rooms with vlyd to have the room the laurances window faces. 

I like to think garrote and Laurence are next door neighbors. 

Non of the ro’Meave children were allowed animals growing up but that didn’t stop Zane from having a pet spider that his parents didn’t find out about until it died but it escaping and garte killing it since he thought a random tarantula just entered there house.( not that he wouldn’t kill it anyways if he knew it was a pet) 

Zenix is one of the ro’mave brothers but he has a different mom and doesn’t live with them. That’s why he hates them sm. ( fuck garte and his cheating ass ) also Zenix looks a lot like garte but he dyes his hair and does makeup to make himself not look it. 

        (That’s also means Zenix is secretly a blonde. ) 

Zianna has forced all the boys to join an activity since they were 3. 

Garroth joined a bunch of different sports but then baseball stuck for him.

Zane joined cooking.

Vylad did cooking, pottery, painting, soccer, ice skating but ultimately he ended up staying in fencing. 

Garroth is the tallest out of everyone and gene is second tallest. 

Garroth 6’2 

Rodriguez family. 

Genes real name is Eugene.

Gene and Dante don’t have the same dad. 

Genes dad was abusive and left when he was 4. 

Dante’s dad died before he was born in the military. 

Gene is super cuddly in his sleep and he often cuddles Zenix in his sleep. 

Sasha has a whole album of them cuddling together. 

Dante and gene have there mothers last name. 

Gene 6’0 

Valkrum family.

Travis is German. ( me to buddy) 

Travis and his dad are best friends and talk about everything together. 

Shalashaska family. 

In Mcd after aphamu I become Irene or got her relic a lot of people were upset with her due to previous prayers unanswered. 

Gelula family. 

Zenix and gene sleep fight due to there childhoods. 

Zenix has a staring problem.

He lives with his mom.

Ashida family. 

So I ignore the nickname Kawaii Chan and just call her nana so that’s how I am referr to her. 

She has 15 siblings. 

10 Boys and 5 girls. 

She's a glass child. 

She a middle child.

So I can't really think of more but maybe ill update if I do but for my last one Imma say Garroth got cadenza a fashion designing job because he’s rich and has friends in high places he just pestered all of them until someone was willing to take a look at her work and actually loved it. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

[corvusblackk]

remus in my dr

(i already shared these but i really miss him rn so i wanted to make a post on all the things i cherish about him.)

first, his personality. he’s very similar to how he’s represented in All the young dudes, he’s imperfect just like that, not soft but truly real and unique. he’s independent, honest and straightforward, mature and chill but he can be funny when he wants to, intimidating lol, he’s really protective over his loved ones, but he also has many flaws that make him so real and beautiful, really. he’s very complex. he’s not really sweet contrary to what people present him in those scenarios, he’s laid back but he sometimes can’t contain his anger with people who go against us, he’s unbothered if they mess with him and reacts only when it’s about his closed ones, and with us he’s very straightforward and surely lets us know if we get on his nerves lol.

he’s not a touchy type of person, but he often would brush his pinky over my hand when we’re close. he did this even before we got together, it’s just something that he does, could be also unconscious i’m not sure. when we became a couple he wasn’t too afraid to hold my hand sometimes, he doesn’t mind if people are judgemental (which is often what we encounter) and that’s probably because he can be scary lmao, he just doesn’t care, but he would make sure i want it and am comfortable with it (also bc i wasn’t the first times).

he’s tired all the time and would sleep at any occasion if he could. he sleeps like a baby, he breaths deeply and makes little noises. sometimes he would slip in my bed at my dorm and lay over me (he’s freaking tall therefore is heavy and would basically crush me but that’s fine) and put his head on my stomach so i would caress his hair and he would just knock out. he’s a deep sleeper too, like not even a scream in his ear would wake him up (exaggerating rn).

um, he kisses very well. one day we decided to meet at night in the slytherin common room and there is a muggle radio always turned on, so we were sitting quietly on the sofa next to the fireplace that was slowly falling out and then he kissed me (i sound calm but i am not), and there was the song “cover me in roses” by golden laurence and i know this song in this reality but it never had a meaning, now it does, so yes this is our song now i don’t make the rules.

as far as I’ve seen for the some months we got in a relationship, he’s very caring but he doesn’t really show it, he’s not sweet almost at all but just because that’s how his personality is like. his love language is like he’s always available for me and takes time to pass some time with me and talk about anything, even if he doesn’t talk much generally, he’s more of a listener.

when i go to therapy, both here and in my dr, i always feel so drained and tired to the point that i’m annoyed by anything and can’t even talk and can’t do shit for the whole day (yeah that’s how much it affects me idc). so when i’m in cr i just go to my room or the garden at my house to simply do nothing, hoping that no one will talk to me cause i would just reply with zero patience or sometimes i would just straight up sleep. but when i’m in dr, yeah i do the same, but there’s him and he’s always available when i need him, so i would just secretly crawl in his bed at the gryffindor’s and he would caress my hair and not speak a word, cause he just knows what i need.

[iminmywritersdungeon]

things I’m going to put in my mcd rewrite when I finally have the time and energy to actually write it

(This is mostly so I have my notes in one place, I don’t feel like making a google doc)

List under cut bc it got really long. Might add more the more I think about this.

Aph being seven feet tall and really really buff, but she doesn’t realize how strong she is. Everyone else does, however, and before they realize she’s a complete sweetheart they are terrified of her after watching her accidentally throw Garroth across a room.

She feels very much like a deity to anyone that isn’t her. Very…human and a little to the left, yknow? Sometimes in the dark her body gives off a little light, she hardly needs sleep, she can do incredible amounts of labor in really short amounts of time.

Because of her memory loss, it takes her a while to really connect with the villagers. She starts fixing up the village not because she wants things to be nice, but because they keep inconveniencing her. The roads are splintered, so she brings stones from the river to pave it. She pulls the weeds because they make her legs itch. When people start praising her for helping them out, she realizes how good it feels, and keeps doing it.

One of the things I’ve always wondered about since I first watched mcd was “why does no one complain about Aph always walking into their homes and starting conversation?” And then I thought “oh, she just. Doesn’t register those boundaries. She wouldn’t mind if anyone came into her house whenever they felt like it, so she does the same. The townspeople think it’s a fair trade, to have a kind lord that cares deeply, sacrificing a little privacy now and then” it goes back to her not really getting other humans on a very specific level. She connects with them emotionally very easily and she’s very empathetic and helpful, but concepts like rest and privacy just don’t make much sense to her, so she throws them out whenever necessary

Aphmau is still called aphmau because I think it’s a nice name. No shade to to people that rename her, I do get it, but I like Aphmau

She does however, pick the name from one of emmalyn’s romance novels.

Speaking of emmalyn! She’s the only one currently with a spare room and a roof that doesn’t leak, so they have Aphmau placed with her. Aph being basically nocturnal and a little overbearing causes em to hate her right off the bat. Aphmau struggles with reading quite a bit once she’s in her new time period (I think it’s believable that the language might stay similar enough in a place like Ru’aun that she wouldn’t need to relearn how to speak, but I think the written language would have shifted enough that she can only recognize about half the letters) so emmalyn decides to teach her to read out of spite

Garrance. because I feel like it. And I like them

Scene where Garroth is treating Laurence’s wounds after the nether and they’re very tender and soft

Zane being completely surprised his brother managed to pull anyone let alone this hottie but he can’t say anything about it because it would ruin his mystique so he’s just occasionally questioning things about their relationship

Katemau because I think it could be fascinating and if I end up making Katelyn really devout then I could also do a healthy dose of sacrelige

Kawaii~Chan x Lucinda. Ship name? Fuck if I know. I don’t care for MyStreet very much but I know her name is Nana so I think it would be interesting to have Kawaii~Chan be the persona she’s developed for her maid cafe, and when she comes to Phoenix Drop and sees things turn dire, she feels a pressure to keep up that persona, because they need someone to be cheerful sometimes. Enter Lucinda, who gives no shits, and hates when people mask themselves because it just forces them to not be straightforward. They clash and then they kiss it’s that simple.

Meowki is there he is aphmaus demon cat that hates literally everyone including her, but she loves him so much

Thorgi is also there, he’s a stray that Aph found and took care of. In general, animals tend to flock to her, and she’s really good with them, although she tends to leave it to Kiki

Aphmau feels something…wrong every time she looks at the Irene statue. Like she’s missing a part of herself

Big weird memory spell that’s making everyone forget the old lord in kind of a haze, until Aph finds his cabin and his journal and knows something is off. Still, there’s nothing she can do.

Chicken shaman

Aaron and Travis are kind of dating, kind of fuckbuddies. Both of them need a way to let off some steam and eventually they get sort of feelings. Ask either of them to explain what they are they’ll shrug and go beat each other up

No I don’t know how this would all play out with the timeskip. It’s fine shut up

Aph gets a giant sword and it drags on the ground but never dulls or tarnishes, somehow. It intimidates the fuck out of everyone she meets

Sylvia and Kimberly. Real ones remember Sylvia and Kimberly

Lord Burt just ending up in a random prison in the ground that’s staying I think it’s funny as fuck

Laurence and Garroth had to sleep in the same sleeping bag to conserve body heat in the snow wink wink nudge nudge

Malachi connects a lot to Levin as a brother, and Laurence as a father, that much I want very clear, but he also just latches onto Garroth for no reason and refuses to let go at all. Garroth doesn’t mind but he does think it’s weird

DONNA I FORGOT ABOUT DONNA. The water villages are less villages and more like settlements. Donna’s dad was from there and she moved to get away from her mom. Still, she hates it but doesn’t have the knowledge or resources to go anywhere better. Enter Aphmau, who is exploring to her heart’s content and finds a water settlement and helps Donna from getting stuck. They get to talking and Aph invites Donna back to Phoenix drop. They live together while Aphmau builds Babe House, aka house for women to stay together because their homes are falling apart. After seeing Aph go above and beyond for her village, Donna decides to learn medicine to try and help out, since this is before Zoey and Garroth would be the only one with healing knowledge

Aph likes to set people up because she has zero filter. She sees Corey and Emma making eyes at each other and drags them into the same corner and says “talk” and leaves them alone

Ok I think that’s it for now.

Oh god what have I done

[haaam-guuuurl]

Little Women Amy x Laurie Fake Dating Modern AU

Theodore Laurence and Amy March run into each other in France, after years of not speaking.

The not speaking thing wasn’t their fault, though, not really. But Laurie and Amy’s sister Jo, who’d been his best friend, had a big falling out a couple of years before, after he told her he loved her and she told him she didn’t. Consequently, Laurie took upon himself a March embargo, determined to completely forget about Jo and anything that could remind him of her, which included her family.

Which is a shame, since he’d been quite close with the March sisters, and came to regret not keeping in touch with Meg and her husband, his good friend John, and their new babies, as well as not being there as Beth got sick, and no longer seeing Amy, whom he’d started to be real friends with as well.

So, the contrast of denying himself their presence and suddenly being completely surrounded by Amy almost overwhelms Laurie, but as it turns out, he’s nothing but happy upon seeing her, as well as relieved.

Amy March is as bubbly as he remembers, even though she’s older, and accordingly more mature. She’s not as dramatic, he thinks, and seems to be more careful of what she says and how she moves. For a second, he reflects on how the innocence and freedom of childhood is truly gone, if Amy, the youngest among them, is now a grown woman, but mostly he marvels at the adult she’s become.

Amy, for one, is ecstatic at seeing Laurie again – he’d been severely missed in the March household, and while Jo had been annoyingly vague about what had happened between them, they got the gist of it, and gave them the room they needed to process it all.

Amy always thought it was unfair, though. That just because he and Jo had a fight, that no one else could be in contact with him either. Sure, they’d been best friends (which they’d never missed a chance to remind the others of, always going off on their own lone adventures), but Laurie had at least been friends with them, too. But they weren’t allowed to say anything, and Laurie became a ghost, vaguely somewhere across Europe, but as good as dead for Jo March, and so as well for the rest of them.

Finding him in France, though, leaves no room for Amy’s grievances, or her insecurities. They were friends, it’s clear now. They are friends. They can have their own relationship, independent of Jo, and she’s so happy to have her friend back, to have back a piece of home that’d been missing for long.

They become almost lifelines for each other in the foreign country. Laurie has his contacts, and Amy has made friends in the art course she’s taking there, but the two quickly become inseparable, almost as if making up for all the time they lost not talking - she fills him in in all things March; he regales her with tales of his gap year misadventures. And a misplaced piece of the universe rights itself a little bit.

So, when Amy needs an reason to refuse a date with Fred Vaugh – an old acquaintance, here on business, whom yes, she’s admittedly been flirting with for the past few weeks, but whom she can’t, in good conscience, actually go out with, because while he’s perfectly nice and respectable, he doesn’t actually do anything for her romantically, and wouldn’t that be leading him on? – Laurie’s is the first name to pop into her head, and is, she thinks, a perfectly valid excuse. Well, valid, with a few tweaks. Namely, saying that he’s her boyfriend, as opposed to the far truer, yet less usable, boy friend.

When she explains the situation, Laurie finds it weird. Then funny. Then, given the opportunity to act out the role at a party she knows Fred will be at, downright hilarious. Amy would be furious at him for making fun of her situation, if he didn’t manage to, at the same time, make a convincing enough showing that Fred leaves her alone. And, she has to admit, it is pretty funny.

It hadn’t been anything more than that, really. Shortly after, Fred went back to London, and the whole thing was simply a lark between the two friends, notable only because Laurie starts referring to Amy as a heartbreaker.

It only becomes a thing a couple of months later.

Amy has since returned home, her summer course over, and spends the first weeks of Autumn in Massachusetts, prepping for her final school year, looking after Beth as she waits for test results about her remission, babysitting the twins for Meg, and avoiding telling Jo about her summer, since she’s not quite sure how her stance on Laurie has shifted (or not) in the past few years.

This becomes apparent when Laurie calls her, a few weeks into the semester, to cash in.

Apparently, Amy has inspired him, and Laurie is returning to the US as well. Seeing her has made him realize he misses home, and, admittedly, his grandfather has been on him about what is an acceptable amount of time for a gap year. This decision prompted him to reach out to Jo. They talked, for a bit, and mostly everything was fine. Great even, and signs pointed to them being able to return to their friendship after all! Until Laurie had the brilliant idea to tell her he’s dating her sister.

Amy, which she feels he deserves, promptly laughs in his face when he tells her.

He says he’s completely and totally over Jo, he is! (Amy maintains a healthy skepticism about this, but lets him go on) It seems that Jo had been looking forward to seeing him again, but adamant that her feelings hadn’t changed, and hoped he’d finally moved on. He’d made assurance after assurance, but the only way he could think of to truly prove it was to tell her he was seeing someone – which isn’t completely a lie, as he had dated other people in the meantime – only to then pop out Amy’s name when Jo asked about it – which is completely a lie.

Here is where Amy questions his reasoning, since he could have said literally any other name beyond Jo’s baby sister’s, and how could he think she’d take that well, and Jo was going to think she’d kept it from her, Laurie, did he have any idea how furious she will be when she sees her at Christmas??

But Laurie maintains that Amy owes him for Fred Vaughn – which has her rolling her eyes every time he mentions it, because c’mon, that was nothing like this – and that she’d been the first person he’d thought of – which does warm her heart a little – and who else could he rope into a fake relationship who could understand the whole thing with Jo?

“Fake relationship” stops Amy in her tracks.

Apparently, Laurie has a plan. A whole plan.

Amy tries to explain that all her lie had demanded of him was going to cool party. Laurie doesn’t see the relevance. Amy wants to yell at him through the phone.

Laurie will be arriving in Massachusetts shortly before Amy’s winter break, giving him only a while to face Jo on his own (and hopefully mend some bridges), at which point Amy will return home, spend her break cuddling with him by the fire – “Is that really so bad, Ames?” – convincingly enough that Jo sees he has completely moved on. Come the New Year, Amy will return to school, and eventually they’ll break the news of their uncoupling, stating how they’re better as friends, and everything will go back to normal.

It’s so easy!

Sure.

It starts off not easy at all, when the very next call Amy receives is from Jo, demanding to know every single detail of her relationship with Laurie.

For all intents and purposes, Amy is pretty proud of her performance, actually, given how little time she had to prepare. She thinks she manages to sound convincing yet apologetic, explaining how they’d gotten close in Paris and had been keeping it low-key because they weren’t sure where it was going yet, plus the long-distance while Amy went back to the States and Laurie stayed in Europe, not to mention his previously chilly relationship with the rest of the family (a not-intentional, but also not-untrue dig at Jo, there, which Amy isn’t sure she gets or not). She talks about how she totally intended on telling her when they knew it was serious, but Laurie totally blindsided her by telling Jo so soon. The best lies, Amy finds, have a little bit of the truth.

“So it’s serious?” Jo asks, and Amy hesitates for a second. A serious relationship. With Laurie. Faking a serious relationship with Laurie.

Her heart does a weird little twist she isn’t sure comes from lying to her sister, the anticipation of the scale of the performance she’ll have to give when they’re all together, or something else entirely.

“I guess.” she settles on, and promptly puts it out of her mind. There’s no point in spiraling for the intervening weeks, she tells herself, even if she does get progressively more stressed out as the semester ends.

When she does get home, though, it’s all so familiar, her anxiety just vanishes.

She’s missed her family. As close as they’ve always been, it’s always been tough being away from them all for months at a time. As soon as she walks through the door, it’s all hugs and smiles, and she feels nothing but welcomed.

And, admittedly, despite everything else, she’s missed Laurie, too. He’s already there when she arrives, like he’d told her he’d be, and Amy doesn’t even think about it before hugging him tightly when she sees him. It’s been ages since they’ve been together in person, after all, and this after months of spending every day together. No matter what else is going on, she just missed him.

It’s only when Jo chides at them to “break it off, lovebirds” that Amy remembers, and hopes her resulting awkward smile/grimace is seen as embarrassment for being with her “boyfriend” in front of her family, instead of regret over her every decision of the past few months.

Other than that, though, it ends up being not too bad. As much as Amy is loath to admit it, Laurie wasn’t too far off in his plan. They don’t have to act that lovey-dovey, just sit together at gatherings, hold hands once in a while, talk amongst themselves for a bit. It’s actually remarkably similar to how they’d behaved nearly every day in Paris. Amy hadn’t even thought of it as romantic, though, not until now, when the contrast of how they used to be, in their childhoods, is so apparent.

Her family’s reactions aren’t so bad either. Dad makes a joke about Laurie having to watch himself from now on, but since it’s been well established how much he loves him and the Laurences, it’s never meant as nor taken seriously. Marmee attempts to have a talk with her about their relationship, but Amy manages to abort that pretty quickly. Meg looks at them like she wants to say something, but doesn’t ever actually do it. Beth, bless her, just tells her she’s happy for them. And Jo makes a few comments here and there, which almost get to Amy, until she reminds herself that the whole purpose of this thing was for Jo and Laurie to get their friendship back.

And it even seems to be working. Since she’s been home, Amy’s watched Jo and Laurie joke around, argue and play off each other almost exactly like they did when they were kids. She can’t bring herself to talk about it with Laurie, but he hasn’t said anything to indicate otherwise, either, not that it was going poorly between them, nor that it was going in any other direction at all.

She’ll admit she was skeptical, when Laurie explained his plan to her, and that a large part of it was because she wasn’t ever truly sure if Laurie was really over her sister, as he claimed. He’d seemed so in love with her, before. And he’d been so heartbroken, when she’d rejected him. A small part of Amy wondered if he wasn’t just saying all of this for show, and if, once he saw Jo again, his feelings wouldn’t come rushing back. Amy does hope not. Even if she had her doubts, she wants for Laurie to be over Jo, really. She never did think they be very good together, is all. And she doesn’t want them to go through that heartbreak again.

If she watches them closely, just to try and see if there’s anything in Laurie’s eyes beyond friendly affection… Well, she’s just looking out for him, isn’t she? For both of them, really, or even for all of them, because everyone’s been excited to have the March and Laurence families together again, and another big emotional fight is the last thing they need.

And if she’s a little relieved every time Laurie notices her there and comes over, slinging his arm over her shoulders, or giving her a peck on the cheek… Well, that’s not really anyone’s business, is it?

It all goes fine, though. Jo and Laurie are perfectly friendly, not a hint of romantic drama nor icy coolness between them, and everyone’s happy through the holidays, and no one’s seemed suspicious of Amy and Laurie at all.

Amy’s all but forgotten about the plan and her anxieties over it, until it becomes all too real right on top of her.

Literally.

On Christmas morning, after they’ve opened their presents, and once Laurie and his grandfather have joined them for breakfast, Amy’s just greeting him, like she’s done every day, when Beth pipes up.

Amy hadn’t realized. She hadn’t been there when they decorated the house this year, even though their decorations haven’t changed in years.

As it always has been, right in the middle of the archway that separates the kitchen from the dining room, and right on top of where Amy and Laurie are standing, is a sprig of mistletoe.

It’s not even a big deal. Beth is the only one who noticed, and then Jo, who turned to look at them when she said it, but everyone else is busy, no one is really paying attention to them.

Yet, in Amy’s mind, this is maybe the worst thing that could’ve happen.

Mistletoe. Of course there’s mistletoe. How could she not have remembered the mistletoe?

Laurie seems as dumbstruck as she is, but he recovers quickly. They’re supposed to be a couple, after all. Couples aren’t supposed to be completely terrified by the mere notion that they kiss.

Amy only has time to register that it’s happening before it happens. Laurie inches his face closer to hers, and Amy doesn’t move away, doesn’t say anything. She meets him when he reaches her, and they kiss.

Laurie only intended it to be a chaste kiss, anyways. Something tangible enough for the others to not get suspicious, but light enough as to not make things uncomfortable, threading the needle to slip under the guise of them not wanting to kiss in front of their families.

It was supposed to be a chaste kiss.

It’s not that.

It’s something else entirely.

Before he knows it, not only has Laurie stepped closer into Amy’s space, but his hands have come up to her cheeks, and Amy has responded by placing hers on his waist. His eyes are closed, yes, he can’t see the room surrounding them, but all of a sudden he isn’t even aware of it. The only thing he’s aware of is Amy.

It’s so familiar. She’s Amy. He’s known her almost all their lives. They’ve been close for most of that time, have seen each other in all sorts of ways, have touched each other numerous times, they’ve shared friendly kisses and teasing ones, they’ve even kissed under the mistletoe before, a simple kiss on the cheek, when they were very little, after which Amy had blushed furiously, and Jo mercilessly made fun of them for the rest of the day.

But it’s also so new. He’s never been this close to Amy. Has never touched her like this, has never known what her lips tasted like before now. Peach chapstick. It should all be so simple and familiar, and Laurie should just let go and pretend it was nothing, but it isn’t and he can’t.

He has no idea how long they’ve been kissing, when Meg and John’s twins barge into the kitchen, crashing into Amy and Laurie and sending them almost flying apart. Jo “oooh”s at them teasingly, but it’s quickly forgotten about, in the bustle of the twins’ arrival, and the adults trying to get everyone to sit down and have breakfast.

Except that Laurie can’t forget about it. He can’t stop thinking about it, in fact. He can’t even make sense of it. He tries to catch Amy’s eye, to try and see how she’s feeling, but she won’t meet his. Is she being glib? Did it really mean nothing to her at all, just a fake kiss for their fake courtship? Or is she totally weirded out, unable to meet his eye? Could she be just as lost as he is?

The rest of the day passes by quickly, almost in a blur, and before he knows it, goodbyes are being exchanged, everyone headed back home for the night.

Amy’s barely looked at him since the kiss, but he tries one more time to talk to her before they leave.

And though she does look at him, this time, and smiles, gives him a quick hug goodbye, even, she’s gone before he can barely say anything.

She clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, then, so Laurie decides to try his best at putting it out of his mind. It was a kiss. So what? A great kiss, yes, but that was that. It was part of a plan. His plan. A plan that went great, even. Him and Jo are friends again, the Marches don’t hate him, and all they have left to do is explain they decided to break it off, in a few weeks. That they tried, but determined they were better of as friends. Him and Amy. Friends. Because that’s what they are.

Except that friends don’t think about each other for as long as Laurie starts finding himself thinking about Amy that week. Friends don’t wonder what it would have been like if they’d kissed any other time in the past couple of days, or if they’d been alone when they had, or wondering about any scenario where Laurie could have kissed Amy again, or for longer. And friends probably take each other’s calls, too. Which Amy hasn’t done since Christmas Day.

While Laurie understands she could perfectly well be busy, which would be a logic assumption from her curt text responses saying just that, Laurie also knows how it feels like to be brushed off, and it quickly becomes obvious she’s just avoiding him.

He wants nothing more than to talk to her, be near her again, something in the back of his mind desperate to be with her. It’s like seeing her in Paris after all those years set something off in him that can’t be satisfied, and it was only made stronger by that goddamn kiss.

But he won’t push her. He hopes she isn’t mad at him for the whole scheme, it is possible it was more taxing than he’d anticipated, after all. She’s probably weirded out by the kiss and needs some space. Okay. Space. He can do that. He won’t push.

He does count down the days until he sees her again, though.

Namely, at the Laurence’s New Year’s party, a week later.

Though Amy hasn’t explicitly stated she’ll come, the Marches have all been attending for years, and while there have been exceptions granted for illness, or work, Laurie sees (hopes for) no reason for Amy not to attend.

He’s already planned out what he wants to say, how he’s sorry for the whole thing, how he understands if she feels put off by him, how he just wants the two of them to be okay, and they never have to mention anything about the whole mess ever again.

Of course, though, as soon as he sees her, walking through the door after her sisters, the first thought that comes into his mind is how he wants to kiss her again.

Instead, he turns right back around and gets a drink.

He spends the next hour telling himself to get it together, that it’s just Amy, and he’s being ridiculous, and only then goes to talk to her.

Amy is reticent about being alone with Laurie, but also knows she’s avoided it for as long as she can, and they really should talk.

It’s not like anything will happen, right? Just because they’re alone, and Amy’s been thinking about the kiss, as well as basically everything that happened over Christmas ever since then, it doesn’t mean anything will happen when she actually talks to Laurie, other than just that. Talking.

Aware she’s trying way too hard to convince herself of this, Amy follows Laurie, becoming determined to push all of her internal doubts and bubbling feelings to the side and just have a talk with her friend. They’ll clear the air, he’ll tell her how the kiss meant nothing and will never happen again, and they’ll be back to normal. Friends. As it should be. And anything Amy might be feeling that’s clearly been brought on by the nostalgia of being home and not having been in a relationship in a while and not at all by this new-found closeness with Laurie and inability to pay attention to anything else when he’s near, it will all just fade away.

When they’re alone, he does apologize for his scheme and how maybe it went too far. He thanks her for going along with it, but that he never meant to make her uncomfortable, and he probably didn’t think it through as he should have, and if she wants, they can just come clean to their families right now.

Something in Amy melts a little. She’s not mad at him, not really. The fake relationship thing was weird, sure, but in the end, she gets it, and if things can be good between all of them in the end, then it was worth it. It was all maybe a bit more than she’d bargained for, but that doesn’t really matter does it? It’ll all just go away.

She also predicts that telling everyone they were lying now will just make things worse and more confusing, so Amy tells him she appreciates it, but there’s no need, they’ll just lay low and stick to the original timeline.

They both leave the room feeling better for having hashed it out, but still a little disappointed. It’s been agreed. They’ll just let the next few weeks go by, and that’ll be that. Back to normal, and no possibility for anything else. Great.

The rest of the party goes well, as light and fun as it can be. And if Amy and Laurie barely leave the other’s side during it, well, to anyone else, they’re supposed to be in a relationship, right? That’s normal. Beyond even that, they’re friends, it’s totally okay! Just like before, Amy squashes any feelings, even part of her is telling herself to enjoy it while it lasts.

Either way, when Mr. Laurence announces to the party that it’s only a couple of minutes till midnight, of course Amy and Laurie find themselves next to each other.

The panic from their first kiss is gone, and a certain inevitability remains over them. Well, of course this would happen. Of course, as a couple they’ll be expected to kiss at the stroke of midnight. When they turn to each other, Amy’s prepared to shrug it off like just something else they’ll have to do – she does not want to be caught off guard again – but finds Laurie already looking at her, a slight smile on his lips, and she can’t help but mirror him.

When the clock strikes midnight, cheers go up around them, but Amy and Laurie are oblivious. This one doesn’t even start as a peck. For all her distancing herself from it, Amy leans into the kiss fully intending to savor it this time. And for all his denial over it, Laurie does the same.

Before long, Amy’s hands are reaching up into Laurie’s hair, and his arms are circling her waist. One kiss turns into two, then three, as they slowly disentangle themselves to get some air.

Amy feels lightheaded, her body against Laurie’s, their foreheads pressed together and her eyes still closed. She can’t push it away this time. She wants to do that again. She wants to kiss Laurie forever, if that’s even possible. She just wants Laurie.

She doesn’t feel able to say anything right now, but Laurie beats her to it.

He says he’s been wanting to do that again since the last time, and Amy can’t help but agree.

She opens her eyes, sees Laurie, looking at her like he’s just had some revelation of his own, and Amy wonders just how long they’ve been headed here without realizing it. Before Christmas? Since Paris? Maybe even before that? Either way, standing here now, it feels inevitable. Her and Laurie, it’s just… It’s fitting. She doesn’t want to let go.

Amy drops the pretense.

“What are we doing, Laurie?” she asks, softly,

“I don’t know” he answers. “Do you want to stop?”

She shakes her head no, and he smiles.

“Can you just…” Amy adds. She needs to make sure. “This isn’t… It’s not the plan, right? It feels, different, at least for me, so just tell me, Laurie, is this still about that? Is it still about Jo, about getting things back to how they were?”

Laurie shakes his head, already interjecting as soon as Amy finishes speaking “No! No, it’s different for me too. It’s not… It’s certainly not about Jo. Amy, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you in days. Actually, probably years. I don’t want things to go back to how they were. Not if they can be better.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Amy can’t help but smile brightly. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either. This feels… I don’t know what it is, but… Better, yeah. Better’s good.”

Laurie’s grinning right along with her, and he has, frankly, waited long enough, and dips his head to kiss her again.

When they finally separate, Amy asks “So, you still think we should go tell our families we’ve broken up?”

Laurie laughs, the whole plan he’d concocted feeling like a lifetime ago. “Well, maybe not right now. Or in the next few weeks. Or years. I don’t know, how about we just see where this goes?”

Amy grins. “That sounds good, yes.”

The two kiss one more time, blissfully unaware of the party going on around them, the Marches and Laurences and other guests toasting, and celebrating, and awaiting the New Year unfolding in front of them all.

[tenofmuses]

Hello! i just discovered your account. I read the same chapter in the North American Folk Magic book and felt connected to it through my french canadian ancestors. I’m having trouble locating books or really anything about these folk traditions. Do you have any to recommend? thank you so much <3

Hello! :)

I’m so sorry this has taken me months to reply to—I’ve had a reply half-written in my drafts for ages, but the end of the year was crazy so I wasn’t able to finish writing it until now. Hopefully this is still helpful!

I’m going to start off by saying that I’m by no means an expert on this topic (I’m fairly new to reconnecting to these practices), so I’m probably missing some key sources. My French is very poor, so I’m unable to read a lot of the sources that are out there—especially Quebec-specific sources, which are often written in French.

Unfortunately, there aren’t any French Canadian folk magic 101 books (at least not that I know of!) out there, so we have to get a bit creative when it comes to sources.

First, I highly recommend checking out the website Courir le loup-garou (link)! They have a lot of articles about different aspects of Acadian and French Canadian witchcraft (sorcellerie). All of their articles are bilingual, and it’s an excellent, accessible resource to get you started. They also have a page on there with sources they’ve used (books, articles, etc.), so it might be helpful to take a look at those.

I’ll also direct you to @lesorciercanadien, who is a practitioner with excellent informational posts, as well as sources cited that you can comb through.

There is a podcast episode of Three Witches and a Druid, interviewing Laurence Cote, who is a French Canadian folk practitioner, about the subject. Link (goes to the Apple podcast app) here.

Another thing to do is to look at the living culture of your family members or people you know. Personally, my Acadian side of the family are very Christian and have no ties to any sort of magic or animistic beliefs—they don’t even pray to saints, which is a common aspect of French folk practices. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing for me to work with! Just means I have to be creative. For example, my Acadian family members use summer savoury in a lot of traditional recipes (meat pies, chicken fricot, stuffing on Christmas), so that’s an herb that I incorporate into my craft a lot of the time.

Food is an excellent and accessible form of culture that you can utilize in your own practice. By looking at common ingredients and working with the spirits of those plants and herbs, for example, or by practicing kitchen witchcraft as you try different recipes. I’ve found this a great way of connecting with my ancestors—following family recipes or even looking up Acadian recipes online and devoting that time spent cooking to those ancestors. It always makes me feel closer to them.

Similarly, I find that listening to traditional music is a great way of connecting to these ancestors. I’m unsure if it’s the same for general French Canadians, but I grew up listening to my Acadian family from New Brunswick playing folk music—specifically fiddles and mandolins and banjos. Sometimes I listen to this music as a way of reconnecting to that side of the family.

Another way to find sources is academic journals, and these will usually be articles about folklore, history, or religion. Use Google Scholar/JSTOR/etc. and search terms like the following ones: "province name"/"quebec"/“acadian”/“french canadian”/"city name" AND "witchcraft"/"folklore"/"magic"/"folk healer." Etc. These aren't always exciting reads, and sometimes the research goes nowhere, but I've found some amazing info this way.

Another type of source to look out for is folklore books—specifically ones related to French Canadian folklore. I was going to insert the name of an old one I read a while ago here, but unfortunately I’ve misplaced the name. I’ll include it here if I find it.

The story of Evangeline is one that is incredibly important in Acadian folklore, and the epic poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is worth a read. Evangeline is a folk hero to many, and is honoured by some folk practitioners.

I’ll also note that there tend to be a lot of awful racist stereotypes related to Indigenous people in some of the older articles and books about witchcraft in Canada, so that’s something to keep in mind as you do research.

Many of the mentions of Indigenous peoples within the particular papers I have read are due to the close ties some Acadian and Mi’kmaq peoples had with each other historically, which led to cross-cultural communication, trade, kinship, and the sharing of beliefs and knowledge. For example, the northern lights have shared folkloric beliefs for both cultures, which shows the cross-cultural communication that took place between them.

Until someone writes a comprehensive French Canadian or Acadian folk magic book, this is what we’ve got—unless there is a wonderful source out there that I haven’t come across yet! It’s a lot of work to dig through all of these sources to piece together your own folk practice, but I find it very rewarding. Putting in all that work just makes you feel all the more connected to the practices you’re doing, and it’s very worthwhile, at least to me!

Again, sorry this took so long, and I hope it helps! Happy new year :)

[endious]

CHAPTER TWO.

FEATURING 、JEFF THE KILLER X F!READER

WARNINGS 、FOUL LANGUAGE, PERVERTED THOUGHTS, MENTIONS OF WEED, THREATS OF VIOLENCE

NAVIGATION 、THE SMELL OF IRON AND 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘.

The next day was full of moving furniture into the house and unpacking the boxes piled up in the living room. It was tiring and Jeff could feel a sting of pain in his shoulder as he lifted up a box that had his name scribbled onto it and walked up the stairs towards the bedroom on the left. Liu claimed the ordinary looking bedroom with the gross stain but Jeff already had his eyes set on taking the darker and “scarier” (Liu’s words not his) looking room. 

He lets out a soft huff as he sets the box down by the bed, his bed is half made as the blanket drags down onto the floor and as gravity makes it slip completely off the mattress silently Jeff narrows his eyes at it before turning and walking out of the bedroom, closing the door behind himself before heading for the stairs again.

He stops for a moment when he sees that rabbit out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head and stops walking, hand on the railing as he raises a brow at the small white animal at Liu’s bedroom doorway, the door completely open and allowing Jeff to look into it and at what Liu had done to change it and morph it into a room that fit him.

Jeff scowls at the bunny. What was its name again? He didn’t really give a fuck. He took long strides towards it and picked the poor thing up before walking into Liu’s bedroom and spotting the small animal pin with the small door swung open. He scoffs with an eye roll as he walks towards it and shoves the rabbit into the pin before closing the small gate with a small click.

”What are you doing with Sully?” The sound of his brother makes him turn, an unamused look on his face as he stares at his younger brother standing rather awkwardly in the doorway.

He gives Liu a weird look before pushing his hands onto his knees and standing up. “It was just runnin’ around in the hall.” Liu seems surprised by his brother’s words and his eyes flick down to the rabbit before looking back up at Jeff. Jeff stalks towards him, silent and damn near menacing and it makes Liu shrink in on himself subconsciously as Jeff looms over him. “You’re welcome.” He huffs before storming past Liu and down the stairs like he had originally planned on doing in the first place.

He walks straight down into the living room where he sees both his parents discussing some topic he didn’t care to listen in on. He gives his dad a blank look and glances over at his mom that looks like she’s stressed out and it’s only 3pm.

She sees Jeff but doesn’t say anything to him. He just wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible. He slowly moved closer to the front door, each step calculated and silent as he inches closer and closer.

He makes a beeline for the wooden portal, walking in quick strides and as he grabs and twists the handle he hears the annoying voice of his father.

”Where do you think you’re goin’?” He says, nose turned upward and an expression of cockiness on his face that makes him look punchable in Jeff’s eyes.

”Outside.” Jeff replied, short n’ sweet. Laurence didn’t like that too much so Jeff fights back an eye roll as he turns halfway facing his father. “Gonna walk around the neighborhood, see if there’s anything happening. Y’know, like you’d expect me to.” The last sentence comes out in a hissed tone, an underlying cut to his voice as his brows furrow and he glares at his dad.

The man doesn’t say anything, an uncertain glint in his eyes as his posture grows rather uncomfortable and he clears his throat before looking over at his oldest son with a slight hint of concern, but not for Jeff. “Don’t stay out there too long… and don’t get into trouble.” Jeff scoffs and opens the door and leaves, walking down the creaky steps and down the small gravel trail.

He turns and heads left down the sidewalk, curiously looking at the house beside his. It looked rather normal, basic even. Nothing noteworthy about it so he turns his attention to the road and keeps walking, tugging something crumbled up in his front pocket out and flipping it open. He pulls a cigarette out from the wrinkled up small box and then shoves it back into it’s pocket before pulling a lighter from his other pocket.

He holds them in his hand, not too worried about lighting the deadly stick at the moment as he takes long and rather confident looking strides down the sidewalk. He reaches a four-way stop that leads off into three other directions but he turns and walks towards the right because he’d seen a gas station near the entrance of the neighborhood and wanted to just sneak something for himself. Stealing was bad but so what? He didn’t give two shits.

He sighs through his nose, looking down at the cigarette in his hand and lights it a second later, shoving the lighter into his pocket and taking a puff off the cig as he relaxes his shoulders. He blinks slowly, an unreadable expression on his face before he sees a figure off in the distance. He narrows his eyes trying to decipher who it was as he nears the person until they turn their head and look in his direction and he recognizes those wide doe eyes.

He bites back a grin and walks just the slightest bit faster toward her as he takes another inhale off the cigarette before blowing the cloud of smoke out.

She gives him a confused look as he stops beside her until he sees the sparkle or realization in her eyes. “You’re that guy…” She says barely above a whisper. Jeff chuckles and takes another drag off the cigarette.

”Who?” He grins and she blinks rapidly, stuttering and struggling to form words to which he laughs at as he throws his head back. “Relax, ‘m just messin’ with ya.”

She hums in acknowledgement, bashful as she stares down at the sidewalk and bites her lip. Did she realize how mesmerizing she was? Did she realize how badly he wanted to—

“Oh… You, uhm…” She’s too nervous to speak up and finish her sentence but her eyes flicker over the lit cigarette in his hand as she seems to shrink in on herself. Out of shyness? He hoped so. He liked making her feel like that and he’d only just met her.

He grins widely, corners of his eyes crinkling as he holds the cigarette loosely between his digits. “You don’t like smokin’?” He teases and the girl seems to become increasingly embarrassed the more he spoke to her and kept his eyes on her. Those pretty hands balled into fists by her sides as she stares in every direction but his.

”Sweet girl,” He takes a step towards her, flicking a bit of ash off his cigarette with a tap of his finger against the deadly stick before bringing it to his lips once more and taking a long drag. He leans down nearly eye level with her now and she finally, finally stares back at him, those pretty doe eyes focused on him and he feels a weird churning sensation in his gut that he chooses to ignore. He blows the smoke into her face, slowly so as to not completely suffocate her. Her face contorts in disgust, nose scrunching up as her hands wave at the air in front of her face with a small cough. When her eyes look back at his shortly after, brows furrowed in frustration as she opens her mouth to speak she falls silent when his nose brushes against hers. There was something in those blue eyes of his that dragged her deeper than she should’ve gone. He chuckles slightly as he stares at her with half lidded eyes. “you really shouldn’t be around me.”

She opens her mouth once more, a sound coming from her but she’s stopped once more by the sound of a car rolling to a stop on the road beside them. She turns her head slightly to look and it’s amusing how she seems to become shades lighter at the sight of the vehicle. The passenger window is rolled down and there was a face of a very disappointed woman in the driver’s seat staring back at the girl.

”Get in.” Is all the lady says and Jeff has half the mind to stand in the way and he thinks he’s probably already moving to do so without much thought when he feels a soft hand on his sleeved forearm, tugging on the white material. He glances down at her and she shakes her head slightly, just barely noticeable but he sees it and with reluctance he sighs and backs off, flicking more ash off the half used cigarette in his hand.

The girl scampers into the passenger seat, not even sparing Jeff a glance but the look of dread and embarrassment on her face makes him consider the possibility that it was her mother in that car and not some random bitch. He corrects himself and his thoughts as the car drives off and the woman gives him a suspicious look that makes him want to smash her skull into that steering wheel her pathetic hands were gripping tightly. Control yourself you dumb fuck, he thinks as he watches the car grow smaller in the distance.

He hums quietly to himself almost in defeat as he relaxes his shoulders and looks up at the sky as he takes another drag off the cigarette before throwing it off to the curb and walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction the car had gone and towards the entrance of the neighborhood.

He crosses the road without a care of getting there any faster. He can imagine that girl hurrying over the road, holding her skirt to keep down as she scampered across to the other side. He can also imagine taking her to the back of this gas station and… Best not to think about that thought or else he’d have a problem to deal with when he got out of this cramped building.

The door swings open as he pulls it, a small ding sounding out from a speaker somewhere in the gas station as he walks in and talks a look around the place. There’s typical things like snacks, candy, random weird ass fidget toys for children and an assortment of drinks on the back wall of the place. It smelled like gasoline and weed and Jeff scrunches his nose up in disgust as he walks through the small aisles until he hears a snicker off to his left and glances over.

It’s in one of the corners of the store, three guys huddled near each other and that’s where the stench is so strong. Two of them look high as hell while the third glares over at Jeff as if he’s looking to get into a fight but Jeff looks down at the candy bars, trying to ignore the way his hands ball up into tight fists.

”Hey, weirdo.” One of them calls out and Jeff can feel his mood souring by the second. Footsteps get closer, only one person.. he could win if he had to fight whoever the punk was, hell, he could beat all of their asses if he wanted to.

”I’m talkin’ to you.” That irritating voice says again in an orderly tone and Jeff turns his head just enough to glare over at the individual. It was that dumb ass that was looking at him.

”What do you want, prick?” Jeff snaps in a low voice, there’s a violent edge to his tone as he glares up at the boy probably the same age as him. The guy only seems to take this as a sign to get more obnoxious and takes another step towards Jeff with a defiant look in his eyes, pupils blown wide and Jeff scoffs.

”You got a staring problem, huh? Freak?” The boy spats and Jeff stands up slowly, quiet as ever as he practically towers over the guy. His black hair is curtained over the death glare he gives and he contemplates whether he should punch his face in now or wait til they all walk out of the gas station.

Jeff leans down just a bit, brows furrowed and an enraged fire in his blue eyes as he grabs the boy by his navy colored jacket and jerks it up making the boy flinch.

”If you talk to me again, I will knock your fuckin’ teeth out. Got it?” Jeff says in a low whisper so no one else could hear. The high male seems to be in a daze though and so Jeff jerks him again and prepares his free hand to get ready to throw a few blows to the boy’s face. “Answer me, dipshit, or you’re gonna be in a lot of pain and your fuckin’ goons will hafta clean up the mess.” He threatens with a clenched jaw and the guy seems to come to his senses at that.

”A-alright dude! Chill, chill!” He stammers with his hands raised defensively in the air and Jeff lets him go after another angry huff. The boy wipes his jacket where Jeff had grabbed him and gives Jeff a dirty look before turning and mumbling something under his breath as he wobbles over to his friends that watched with confused looks.

Jeff glares over at them as he snatches a Twix off the shelf and shoves it into his hoodie pocket before walking back to the entrance and circling the shoplifting detectors while the cashier was distracted and walks out the door as it dings once more and he steps outside as a cool breeze passes.

He walks back into the neighborhood, holding an object in his hoodie pocket but it wasn’t the wrapper of the Twix that bumped against his left hand that held something much more deadly.

He doesn’t do anything with the object, just holds on to it, grips it tight in his hand as if it were a habit as he walks down the quiet sidewalk and back to the spot he’d seen the girl earlier. He grins like a creep to himself as he thinks about the outfit she was wearing. Fluffy sweater, hanging off one shoulder to show the bare skin there that he wanted to sink his teeth into. The frilly skirt she wore that didn’t do much to help her with the weather that seemed to get colder as the days passed. Those cute and pink converse she wore that had a few pins on them as if that was how she added her own artistic taste to the shoes. He’s so busy thinking about this little obsession— he thinks is normal— until it’s ripped from him and he sees a flash of black like a bomb went off in front of him. He groans quietly, right hand flying up to his head and clutching it tightly, gripping his hair and tugging slightly as pain pulses through his head and seeps down into his chest. He can’t see very well and he’s unsure if what he’s seeing is even real.

There’s a lot of red, the color is everywhere and he thinks he’s lost his mind when he hears a horrific scream somewhere to his left. He turns slightly, face scrunching up and relaxing every few seconds as the throb continues like a steady downpour throughout his entire body. What the fuck? He blinks a few times, squinting his eyes as he looks at a blurry figure in the distance that gets bigger and bigger until he realizes the thing was coming towards him.

”Oh, shit—“ “HELP ME!” The voice of a girl screams out as the figure gets closer and he feels his blood run cold at the familiar voice. He feels adrenaline the second and stumbles a bit on his feet as he suddenly feels lightheaded. He feels angry, confused and a newfound feeling of fear but it only lasts for a second and when she had screamed out. He blinks a few times and it feels like his body has been hit by lightning, his ears ringing so loud he feels like his eardrums were going to burst any second and he takes a deep inhale as he opens his eyes again and sees white for a few seconds until his eyes adjust to the bright light the sun above casts. 

He looks around utterly confused. Everything looks normal again and he feels a rapid thumb in his chest, pressing his hand to it only to realize it’s his own heart doing that. He feels like he can't breathe properly as he inhales and exhales through his mouth a few times like he ran a marathon until he forces himself to take slow breaths through his nose. He calms down in record time, shoulders relaxed and it’s now he realizes he’s on the ground and no longer standing as he sits up and stares down at the sidewalk. He looks up and straight ahead where he’d seen the girl running from and he sees the street he lives on. He makes a weird face, a brow raised as he examines the area for anything suspicious. There’s nothing and so he stands to his feet with rather wobbly legs at first and sighs through his nose.

What a weird fuckin’ experience. He thinks and he hears something hollow drop to his right. He turns his head and looks over only to see a small child with his mouth hung open and wide eyes. His arms are out in front of himself and a small plastic bucket rolls on the sidewalk in front of him.

”You’re weird.” The child blurts out, eyes still wide and mouth open as he stares up at Jeff. It’s silent and neither of them move nor do they look away from each other as if they're in an unspoken staring contest.

The kid suddenly picks up the bucket and turns on his heel, nearly falling over and running back into the yard of the house he was beside and up to the front door and opens it before going inside. Jeff shrugs the weird interaction off and walks back down the street to his house with an odd sense of paranoia hanging in the air above him.

It’s only midday and he’s experiencing such an odd event. He laughs at himself and shakes his head as he walks up the steps of his house and grabs the doorknob.

“It’s probably nothin’.” He says to himself before opening the door and walking in, feeling a static-like noise in his head that he’s quick to drown out with a playlist that consists of all his favorite nu metal bands as he shoves earbuds into his ears.

[theteasetwrites]

The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon | S1E1 Thoughts

Okay I am gonna list all my positive and negative thoughts regarding each episode (I know no one asked but I feel like this is the only thing I am somewhat “qualified” to talk about ad nauseam on here).

⚠️ SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️ do not read below the cut unless you’re okay with spoilers

Positive Thoughts

Norman’s acting is so good like?? Listen we all know he’s not Laurence Olivier and he doesn’t claim to be but goddamnit he nails the subtleties of Daryl’s expressions and conveys his emotions really well I think! I’m very impressed

Daryl hot

Obviously the cinematography, setting, and aesthetics are really cool. It’s both gritty but pretty!! I love the gothic architecture and how OLD everything looks, which is only exacerbated by the apocalyptic feel

Everyone in the cast is so good in terms of acting (well, I mean… Laurent is certainly there but he’s a child so we’ll be lenient)

Daryl hot

The walkers are great as usual. I love the burners. Really interesting! I’m kind of wondering if the “experiments” the people on the ship refer to relate to the burners? Maybe they’re making them like that idk.

I love the religious imagery. We have had cults and stuff in TWDU before but I don’t think we’ve had this Catholic vibe going on. I’m a sucker for anything nun related because I have a weird infatuation with them, so I’m all for it.

DARYL BATHTUB SCENE??? They put that in for the girls and the gays and we are LIVING for it

Daryl hot

Daryl is so reminiscent of early seasons TWD era with his witty lines and snark remarks. I feel like we don’t get to see this side of Daryl very often anymore, but now that he has his own show and is THE main character, we get to see those sides that have been neglected again. I also love how much he sort of scoffs at the nuns and their religion. Atheist Daryl we love to see it

It’s cool seeing people in France dealing with the same things our characters have dealt with since the beginning. It’s interesting to see these new parts of the world in this universe for sure

Daryl hot

I honestly just love thinking about how when Daryl gets home he is gonna have such a crazy ass story to tell everyone! It’s gonna be so cute to see him telling all the kids about how heroic he is and ugh yessss

Daryl deserves his own show. He deserves to be THE main character. People who said he can’t lead a show? Nah. Reconsider

I also love that Daryl MIGHT potentially save the world. Cool asf. And if anyone from the original series should save the world, I think it’s him.

Daryl hot

Negative Thoughts:

Okay. I have some very petty/subjective critiques. I realize a lot of you guys probably disagree with me but that’s okay! Don’t read my negative thoughts if you aren’t prepared to be annoyed with me lol. Once again, a lot of these are super petty/nitpicky

First thing that bothers me is that Daryl says he is from the Commonwealth. No. He is from Alexandria, thank you very much. Well, at least he should be. He should’ve been living at Alexandria imo but the finale didn’t really make it explicitly clear where he was living in that year time jump. Basically I just hate the Commonwealth because I have zero attachment to it and it’s just a stupid ass place that I wanna forget about

Daryl seeing Carol in his haze 🙄 … just annoys me solely because Carol annoys me. They could’ve just shown Judith because that would’ve made more sense to me. But don’t get me started, I don’t even want Carol in season 2. Anyway.

Laurent isn’t terrible but he’s kind of annoying in that “I’m so smart I know everything” way. Just very annoying smart kid at school who everyone hated vibes. Plus I just don’t think it’s realistic that he would be THAT smart just from being raised in a convent of nuns

I also fail to understand what they’re doing with Laurent. Is he just some kid that the nuns think is the messiah or is he ACTUALLY the messiah? Like are they gonna throw in a whole other supernatural religious element? Because Laurent conveniently knows Judith’s line from the finale “you deserve a happy ending too.” Right down to the letter. I find it cheesy as hell because I’m so tired of these blatant in your face parallels that are trying to be clever, which always involve children too like we get it children are basically the duck tape of TWDU. Don’t know what to do for this plot? Throw some kids in there!

Neither Positive nor Negative Thoughts:

I don’t trust the nuns. I think they’re gonna use Daryl to get what they want and they don’t really care about getting him home. Worse, I think it could be possible that Isabelle won’t let him get home. She already tried to keep him from using the radio. I’m not saying I hate her character or anything (I actually like her so far… as long as she stays friendly and not… overly friendly), I just think she’s way too invested in this “messiah” stuff to actually care about Daryl so I fear she will take advantage of him. We shall see.

Ok, those are pretty much all of my thoughts!

[m--rtyr]

Okay, but is it weird to anyone else that as soon as Garroth back from Irene’s Realm that he faced no real consequences for his actions. Garroth didn’t confess to Aph until season 2, so in season 1 when he saw Laurance kissing her or well a fake he didn’t have any right to get upset. Garroth hadn’t said anything so why be so mad ? So he betrays everybody causing Aph, Laurence, Emmy, Kenmur, and even Aaron to miss out on 15 years of overworld time. 15 entire years because he was jealous of a woman he didn’t even confess to. Aph missed her sons grow up, her dogs lives, several close friends lives or flat out died, growing and maintaining her village. Laurance missed seeing his sister take lord ship, his adoptive father/Hayden after joe’s death, protecting his new village and friends. Kenmur missed Cadazen taking lord ship, his rival/mentor Hayden’s death, and whatever the hell happened to Gale who raised him after his parents died. Emmy missed all her friends in her home village and whatever family or other friends all either died or moved on. Aaron lost everyone but 15 years is a long time he could have found some sort of healing in that time. After all that Garroth comes back guilt ridden but everybody just lets it go. Like okay you just betrayed everybody for a horrible reason just to be accepted back care free. Sorry, for the rant I wonder how you’re going to handle it in your rewrite.

I think I’ve brought this up before, so I am very passionate about this clearly

Yeah it’s weird. Like sure he shows remorse but that’s not… that doesn’t fix anything. He’s still caused that harm.

If it was a situation of ‘oh Aph didn’t do anything straight away bc she was grieving and pregnant, she’d need her entire support system’ I guess I’d accept that answer. But I don’t like it.

Because

He deserves to be held accountable for stealing a girl’s WHOLE life over a KISS

[munsonsmixtapes]

If We Have Each Other

Theodore "Laurie" Laurence x fem!reader

cw: mention of death and grief, hurt/no comfort

This idea is brought to you by the lovely @lillypad910 who suggested that I write this while we were watching Little Women (2019) together!

The clouds above looked particularly gray as you stood by the casket, your eyes brimming with tears. You almost felt as if you had been hallucinating because of how unreal everything had felt. And maybe that was just because of your lack of sleep. When was the last time you had gotten a full night’s worth? You looked around at the sea of black, looking for the familiar face of the friend you had grown to love. You spotted Amy immediately and she made a beeline for you. 

She took your hands and you could see that her eyes were also misty, that light that filled them no longer there. What had happened was so horrible and you were almost refusing to accept that it was actually real. That had made you feel better despite how unhealthy it had been to do so.

You avoided Amy’s eye contact, knowing that if you saw her cry, you would as well. But he was quick to hand you her handkerchief, but watching your hands shake as you reached for it, she took it upon herself to help. She lifted your veil ever so slightly as she dabbed at your cheeks. This was the worst she had ever seen you and hated that it had to be this way. She knew that losing a husband wasn’t the same as losing a sister, but she knew that they were very similar on the pain scale. 

“Come here,” she urged and you threw yourself into her arms, burying your face into her shoulder as sobs raked through you. Her hands moved up and down your back as she whispered to you, reminding you that you were allowed to cry as much as you wanted. Because in her eyes, it didn’t matter that you didn’t love Jaques romantically. He was still your husband and the closest thing you had ever had to a lover. 

You looked over her shoulder to see Fred standing a few feet away, giving the two of you some space, but you waved him over. The three of you had gotten so close since you had moved to Paris and he had been so good to Jaques. You liked him for Amy and were looking forward to them finally tying the knot. And you were just glad that she had finally moved on from-

“If there’s anything I can do please let me know,” She said once you had pulled away, looping her arm through Fred’s. Amy had already done so much to help you through your hard time and you felt like you couldn’t possibly ask her to do anything else. Well, the only other thing you would have asked her to do was talk to- 

“You’ve already done so much,” you told her, pulling her in for a tight hug. “I mean, you helped me arrange this whole thing.” She had taken it upon herself to help you with your ever growing list when you couldn’t even get yourself to get out of bed. She had helped you change and everything since you had refused help from the people who had worked in the house. 

“And it was the least I could do considering the circumstances.” You felt a tear run down your cheek and she was quick to wipe it away with the pad of her thumb. It was as if it was all settling in. Finally. Yes, you had cried in your bed for days, but being there…at the funeral…it was like a punch to the gut. 

“I just wish-“ you cut yourself, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from speaking. You couldn’t even utter his name because of how upset you were. Amy’s eyes widened as she stared back at you. She had known that the two of you had a small falling out, but that was years ago. You had been inseparable your whole lives and now you weren’t speaking? Something clearly had been wrong. 

“So he doesn’t-“ She paused, not wanting to finish her thought. She didn’t need to. You knew what she was getting at and she could tell that you didn’t want to speak about it. And she didn’t feel like it was the right time to ask anyway considering the circumstances. 

“No,” you shook your head. “He doesn’t. And he won’t as long as I have anything to say about it.” 

“Y/n,” she gave you a pointed look. “We’re talking about-”

Before- Age Sixteen

“Laurie!” You called up the stairs and he appeared at the banister, looking down at you with his signature boyish smile. 

“You called?” He asked as he slid down the railing of the staircase and you rolled your eyes. He was always doing things without another thought and you were always afraid of him getting hurt. He was just too impulsive for his own good, rushing to do things that he hadn’t thought heavily about and you thought that one of those days, it would come back and bite him. And you kind of hoped it would because then maybe he would use his brain for more than a nanosecond. 

“I’ve been waiting for you for twenty minutes,” you told him, crossing your arms over your chest and tapping your foot against the hardwood floor. 

Mr. Brooke was going to be there any second and you wanted to be ready, writing some poetry to keep your mind occupied. You quickly hurried into the room and pulled your book over to sit on the desk in front of you and flipped it open to the page you had bookmarked. 

“Time got away from me,” he replied as he shut the door. “And he’s not even here yet,” he said and sat in the chair next to yours. He scooted it closer so that the arm of it was right against yours. He always wanted to be close to you. So close that you were touching, loving to feel your warm skin against his. It didn’t matter the body part, but he favored your hands, loving that there was always a marking from your pencil that had always rubbed off on him and the callouses from where you held your pencil or quill. 

Laurie was always the first person you wanted to read your poetry. You’d race down the hall no matter the hour and burst into his room with that adorable smile on your face. You’d stand in front of his bed and read it out to him as he’d look at you like you had hung the moon. 

And he would listen intently, soaking up every single word, always there to applaud you once you were done or give some constructive criticism where you needed it. He would try to convince you to make a career out of it, maybe selling some of your work, but you always shut him down. You told him that you didn’t have time to do such a thing even though you had nothing but. Because if you were being honest, you just wanted to keep it all to yourself. It was all personal, very self-reflective and you weren’t sure you wanted to share that kind of information with strangers. 

You felt Laurie rest his chin on your shoulder as he read along with you, something that the two of you often did together. He would sometimes make you read to him as he enjoyed the stories and also just loved hearing your voice. It comforted him and made him feel at ease as he often fell asleep before you had even finished the chapter. 

“When’s Mr. Brooke supposed to be here?” He asked as he reached up to turn the page before letting his hand rest on top of yours. Your skin was suddenly buzzing as you were very aware of it. It was soft and warm and you hated how much you felt like you were going to swoon just from his touch. 

“Any minute now,” you replied, trying to focus on the words on the page, but how could you when he was touching you like that? 

You felt a little pathetic for being in love with someone who didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but it was hard not to. Laurie was so sweet and caring and really the only person who truly knew you. And he had cared for you so much as had his grandfather since he had been your primary caretaker. 

Together, they had given you more than you could have ever asked for, treating you like one of their own. Even though he hadn’t been around much, Mr. Laurence had still been like a father figure to you. Anytime he had traveled, he had always brought you back the same thing, a journal for your poetry.

“For your excellent words,” he’d say, holding the thing out to you. And you’d take it gratefully every time, accompanied by a tight hug before racing up to your room to write the thought that had been in your head all morning. 

“What are you thinking about?” Laurie asked, turning to look at the concentrated look on your face. He could just tell that you weren’t actually reading, but in your head about something. 

“Nothing,” You waved him off and he squeezed your hand, making your thoughts even more painful. You couldn’t possibly tell him the truth, not now, not ever. It was much too painful to think about what could have been and what wouldn’t happen because there was absolutely no way that he could have felt the same…right? 

“Could it be about this?” He asked, slipping your poem out from underneath the book. A look of horror flashed across your face but you hid it well, trying to conceal the fact that your world could have possibly crashed down as soon as he read the words. There was no way you could recover as soon as he saw what-or who-it was about. 

“A suitor perhaps?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief just like always. He was unknowingly being so cruel, teasing you about your crush on him. But at the same time, you wondered how he couldn’t have seen it, how it wasn’t so obvious. You knew how you looked at him and he had either been more stupid than you thought or was just simply ignoring it. And you didn’t know which one was worse.

“There’s no suitor,” you told him as you reached for the paper, but he still held it out of your grasp, reading directly from the page and you had never wished to disappear more than in that moment. 

“No suitor?” He asked with a dramatic gasp. “Then who has the green eyes?” 

You, you wanted to tell him. It’s you, Laurie and I cannot stand another moment without knowing if you feel the same. That was what you would have told him if you had even a sliver of the confidence he had. That was the only instance where you had been envious of him. 

You tried to reach for the page again, but he had raced out of the room in the blink of an eye. You could hear his laughter echoing down the hall and you felt your stomach ache thinking about him laughing at your poem, telling you how silly it was for you to have a crush on him and that he most certainly did not feel the same way. It was your worst nightmare. That very thing had woken you up more times than you could count which was one of the main reasons why you had been so quiet about the whole thing. 

As soon as you stepped out into the hall, you could see him at the end by the stairs, reading it aloud as soon as he saw you. You tried to stop him, but it was too late. It was as if your nightmare had come to life and you were covering your ears to stop it. You could see his lips moving, but nothing was coming out. Good. Because maybe if you hadn’t heard it, it wasn’t actually happening. You shut your eyes tight to act as if you weren’t there.

But then you felt his hand, moving it away from your ear while his own rested on your cheek, the other holding your poem. They were cool against your warm cheeks, but you still refused to look at him. You couldn’t. 

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, but you wouldn’t listen, shutting them even tighter and your heart leapt as his laughter rang throughout the hallway. “Please look at me.” Now he was pleading and you couldn’t help but obey, slowly opening your eyes to see him smiling at you. A wide grin spread across his cheeks. 

“There she is,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Is this about me?” He asked, holding up the page as his eyes searched yours as if the answer had been there instead of on your lips. 

You refused to answer. Even though there was no malicious intent behind those eyes, you couldn’t get yourself to tell him the truth, that you had been in love with the boy your whole life just hoping that he felt the same. You watched him chase after multiple girls over the years while he only saw you as a friend and that broke you. But seeing the look on his face, you were beginning to think that maybe, just maybe you were wrong. 

“So what if it is?” You whispered, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about what he had to say, but god, did you. You cared more about that than anything else, just wanting to get it all over with. 

“Then I would-I would ask if I could kiss you.” Your eyes widened at his words, your mouth agape. You never thought he’d ever utter those words so you had to hold onto him just to prove to yourself that you weren’t dreaming. 

You watched him leaning closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies as he shuffled closer, the two of you coming toe to toe. Your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth was so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face. His other hand rested against your back which you were grateful for as your legs felt like jelly, weakening by the second. 

But then the front door opened and Mr. Brooke stepped inside, causing the two of you to jump away from each other. Laurie turned to greet the tutor, knowing he needed to be polite and when he turned back to you, you were gone, the door to the study slamming shut in the distance. 

After

Laurie’s heart beat rapidly in his chest as he knocked on the door in front of him. He wasn’t normally nervous about things, but he had to admit that he felt like he was going to throw up. He never just showed up at someone’s home unannounced, but this was the only circumstance that he thought it was okay. 

Once about a minute passed, he turned to leave only for the door to be ripped open. He whipped around to see a little boy, certainly no older than three and a woman who was rushing after him. He figured he must have had the wrong house. Maybe Fred had written the address down incorrectly.

“William Theodore,” she scolded and his stomach fell as his ears picked up on the middle name and the bright green eyes staring back at him. Certainly he couldn’t have been-no. It just wasn’t possible…right? 

The woman scooped the boy into her arms and as soon as Laurie got a glimpse of her face, it all clicked in his brain. God, you were stunning. You were a woman now and he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from you. His gaze caught the ring on your marriage finger and he honestly thought he was going to be sick. 

He had been at the wedding, but the whole thing had been fuzzy as he had thrown back glasses of wine as if they were water. And he honestly only really remembered what Meg had said to him as she had pulled him aside. Those words swirled around in his head more often than he would have liked and he hated that he had been so selfish as to ruin what was supposed to be the best day of your life.

It could have been you that voice whispered in his ear and he didn’t even want to think about it. For once, he was going to think about someone who wasn’t himself. He was trying to be there for you, to help you through your hard time. He kind of wished that he had heard the news from you, though and not Amy. 

But he didn’t think he should have been allowed to choose that as he had been the one to destroy your friendship. He had let you slip through his fingers and he was the one who was upset? He didn’t think he had the right to be. The only person he should have been upset with was himself. 

He had been blaming you the whole time because he didn’t want to accept that he was the one at fault. He was never good at accepting responsibility and this was no exception. Even when you had called him out on it, he was still in denial, throwing insults your way, not even looking you in the eyes because he couldn’t stand to see you cry. 

As soon as you caught sight of him, a lump formed in your throat. The years had been kind to him as he looked like he hadn’t aged a day. The only difference was that he looked a little taller and tired. His hair was a mess and the obvious bags under his eyes signified that he hadn’t gotten much sleep. 

You set the boy onto his feet and crouched down to his height, whispering something to him before he ran off, leaving you alone with the boy-or you supposed man-who had once been your everything, your world. And now you didn’t know a damn thing about him. Apparently he didn’t want you to know considering the fact that he had never gotten your letters and his own seemed to come to a complete stop. 

“I’m so sorry about Jaques,” he apologized, his hands moving to rest behind his back. The sorrow on his face showed you that he meant it and not just saying it because he felt like he had to like everyone else. “Oh,” he said before reaching into the inside of his coat before retrieving an envelope with your name scrawled on top of it. 

You hesitantly took it, feeling what was inside and handed it back. You didn’t need his pity. Between the loss of your parents and husband, you had had enough of that to last a lifetime and you didn’t think you could possibly take anymore, especially not from Theodore Laurence.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity, y/n,” he shook his head. “I just figured that you could use it.”

“You really think you can just show up on my doorstep after years of not speaking to me and expect me to forgive you because you gave me some money.” You were really angry now, a fire in your eyes that he never expected to be on the receiving end of. You looked like you could have exploded any second and if he had had any sense, he would have left you alone.

“It’s not-”

“Then what is it, Laurie?” You spit, your voice getting louder as you waved your hands around. “Why are you here?” He thought it was obvious, but he knew that wasn’t what you were meaning. You were really asking him why he was there right then. 

“I wanted to be here for you.” His voice was now small and you almost felt bad for him. Almost. But the man didn’t need you to feel sorry for him as he had already done that himself. Throwing himself a pity party the only way Laurie knew how. 

“Amy already has that covered since you didn’t seem to want to stay in contact with me considering you never responded to my letters.” The words were filled with venom and Laurie didn’t think that was very fair. How was he supposed to read your letters when they had been sent to his home address? 

“I was in London,” he responded as he furrowed his eyebrows. He thought you had known that and had been upset with him for some reason. He really missed seeing the envelopes with your return address on them, his name in the pretty, loopy letters. 

“That would have been nice to know. You’ve been acting so strange since-” Now you were getting upset, the years of bottled up anger towards him exploding right before his eyes. And he was going to stand there and take it, not wanting to be a coward anymore. 

“You’re the one who’s been acting strange, y/n,” he pointed at you, his voice getting a little loud for your liking. “You left me with no warning. Just fled to Paris without a single word with your new husband.” The way he said “husband” like it was a curse word boiled your blood. He had no right to be jealous and you refused to feel pity for him. 

“Laurie…” you tried to think of how you could tell him the truth without completely revealing everything. You could imagine Jaques standing right beside, giving your hand a squeeze, telling you that it was okay. “It was-” you paused. “I married him so he could be with his lover without raising suspicion.”

“His lover? What are you talking about?” He was utterly dumbfounded. Since when had Jaques had a lover that wasn’t you? That man had looked at you, well-the way you looked at Laurie. How was it possible that he didn’t love you? You were the most amazing person he had ever met and now you had someone else, mourning him in fact. And Laurie was there to do what, exactly? To tell you that he loved you too? That he had finally decided that you were worth his time? He was afraid that ship had already sailed.

“Before Jaques passed away…he and William were in a romantic relationship.” The way you had said the words caused him to assume that he should have already known that fact. And maybe he should have, but he supposed it was too late now. He just stared at you, completely blindsided by the information, blinking multiple times to let it really sink in. 

“So you weren’t-and he’s not-” he pointed to the room where Liam had been and you just shook your head, feeling a lump forming in your throat as you thought about that night. 

“No,” you shook your head, afraid to look him in the eye, but he stepped forward, taking your hands in his. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked and just from his tone, the question sounded pained, his voice so soft that you almost didn’t hear him. No, you weren’t going to feel bad for him. He had brought all of that upon himself.

“Because it’s none of your business.” He clearly didn’t like what you had to say because he was so close now that you could feel his breath on your face. If you had just leaned in- No. You had to physically restrain yourself from reaching out to him. 

You wanted him to hold you, to pull you in for a kiss. Despite your anger towards him, you always found yourself melting at the sight of him. He could just simply say “I’m sorry,” and there you were, throwing yourself into his arms with a tight hug, everything completely forgiven. But not this time. You were stronger now, suddenly feeling nothing for the man in front of you. At this point, you didn’t even recognize him because he was not the boy you had grown up with. Whoever that person was had been long gone. 

“None of my business?” He asked, his voice full of offense. “He has my eyes!” And that was the most painful part of it all, looking in your son’s eyes and seeing the color of the irises you wanted to stare into forever. It was almost like a cruel joke that had been played on you that Liam had the eyes of his father, the man who you had been in love with. A constant reminder of him and the fall out between the two of you. That he wasn’t the one who you had married and built a life with.

“And your name. I at least gave you that even though you don’t deserve it.” And Laurie didn’t think he deserved it. From the way he treated you, he didn’t think he deserved anything. Especially not from you. He was honestly surprised you had even let him in and that just showed how much better you were than him. 

Because if the roles had been reversed, Laurie would have slammed the door in your face, not even wanting to look you in the eye. He was a coward to his core and he knew it. If you were the one begging for forgiveness, he would have just run in the opposite direction because he didn’t want to hear what you had to say. Because in his head, he was always right, but now, standing in front of you, he was finally admitting to himself that he was wrong. Admitting to you that he was wrong. 

“Now I think it’s best if you go,” you told him as you heard Liam begin to cry. “You’ve already overstayed your welcome.” Out of all the horrible things you had said to him over the years, that might have been the worst of all. You had always begged him to stay the night in your room when you couldn’t sleep, always asking him to stay with you at the parties you had accompanied him to…and now you were asking him to go. Permanently. You might as well have just stabbed him in the chest as it would have hurt a lot less. 

Without a word, Laurie headed towards the door, actually feeling the bile burn his throat this time. His eyes were brimming with tears as he turned back one last time as he opened the door, watching you gather his son in your arms as his cries stopped instantly. He always knew you would have been a good mother and seeing you with Liam, it was confirmed. 

So he was off without another word, feeling like his heart had just been ripped out and he supposed it was just what he had deserved as he had made you feel the same more times than he could count. Perhaps Meg had been right in telling him that he had missed his chance. Perhaps he should have just given up altogether since you had finally given up on him. 

Before- Age Fifteen

“I promise I’m okay, Theo,” you assured the boy who kneeled at your bedside. Laurie’s hands were holding yours and he was looking at you softly. It was just a cold, but he insisted on staying by your side until you had gotten better. 

“Believe me, I want you to go more than anyone else, but the doctor said you have to stay in bed.” He removed one of his hands from yours and reached up to wipe some sweat away from your warm forehead. It made his heart ache seeing you like that, but he could tell that you were closer to getting better. In the morning, he was certain that you would be good as new.

“So I had that beautiful dress made for nothing?” You averted your gaze to the dress that was hanging in your wardrobe. It was an extravagant blue thing that Mr. Laurence had insisted on spending a little extra on just to make you happy. And it was just going to sit there and collect dust.

“There will be plenty more parties,” he reminded you as his hand slid down your cheek. Why did he have to be so sweet? It just made it that much easier to fall in love with him. 

“But who will you dance with?” You asked, trying your best to sit up, but your arms were too weak. 

“Easy,” he said as he stood, lifting you with ease to help you sit up. “And I won’t dance with anyone,” he shook his head. “I’ll just sulk in the corner.” You didn’t like hearing that. You wanted him to have fun even if it was without you. Even if it hurt your feelings more than you would have ever admitted. 

“No, you shouldn’t do that,” you assured him as you reached for his hands again, wanting to feel his warmth. “Dance with whoever you like. I promise I don’t mind.” But you did mind. You didn’t want him to dance with anyone else, feeling nothing but jealousy coursing through you just thinking about it. 

“But they won’t be as good as you.” You just laughed at that and it was music to Laurie’s ears. He always loved hearing it, especially in times like those when you weren’t feeling your best. He loved being the little light in your darkness. 

“Theo, we both know I’m a terrible dancer. You don’t have to lie.” 

“Oh, I’d never lie,” he replied, bringing your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to them. “I’ll be home early to read to you.” He finally stood as Mr. Laurence informed him that the carriage was ready for him. “I promise.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and he was off. 

Laurie had been right in thinking that the party was dull without you. Many women had wanted to talk to him, wanted to dance, even, but he had turned them all down, taking sips of wine when no one was looking then hurried off behind one of the curtains that had concealed a room. He had made himself at home, hoping that no one would bother him, realizing that you were the one who had even made those social events bearable. 

All he wanted to do was go straight home and pull you to his chest as he hummed the songs from the party that he promised he would remember for you. That was always one of your favorite parts and Laurie had refused to let you miss it just because you weren’t there. 

Just as he was considering sneaking out before anyone could catch him, someone had backed into the room, causing him to stand up as they bumped into the chair where he had been sitting.  The stranger turned around and he had been taken aback by her beauty. 

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized, putting her hand up. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

“Not at all,” Laurie replied, taking her in. He had recognized her as one of the March girls, but had no idea which one she was as there were four of them. “S-stay if you like.” 

“I won’t disturb you?” She asked and he could see that she was feeling unsure. He wanted to have company and she seemed nice enough. He just wanted to stop thinking about you for once. Even when you weren’t around, you had invaded the boy’s thoughts, always worrying about you or wondering what you were up to.

“No. I didn’t know anyone here. I felt rather strange.” He felt strange because you weren’t there. You weren’t there to dance with him and he hated that he was forced to be alone. But he thought that perhaps he wasn’t lonely now thanks to the March girl.

“So do I.”

“Miss March, isn’t it?” He asked, finally looking her in the eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Laurence,” she replied as she put her hand out for him to shake and he took it. “But I am only Jo.” Jo. He thought the name suited her despite not actually knowing her. She seemed so different from the girls he had met, so unapologetically herself. She reminded him of you and he decided that he had to have the two of you meet.

“And I’m not Mr. Laurence,” he said as he shook her hand with a smile. “I am only Laurie.” 

“Where’s the girl?” she asked and the boy felt his cheeks blush, realizing how obvious he seemed about his pouting. 

“Girl?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to figure out who she could have been referring to. His brain seemed to empty as soon as she had stepped into the room. 

“The one I always see through the window in your house when I pass by it.” She was talking about you. Of course! What other girl could she have possibly been talking about?

“Oh.” His face lit up at the mere mention of you. He loved talking about you any chance he got. “That’s my friend, y/n. She was supposed to be here, but she’s sick.” Jo watched the way his face changed when he talked about you, admiring the way his eyes lit up. 

“That’s a shame,” she shook her head. “I would have loved to meet her.” Even though she had only just met the boy, she decided that any friend of Laurie’s must be a friend of hers. And she wanted to know what you had been writing as she always saw you scribbling something down on a piece of paper when she looked through your bedroom window. 

“I’ll have to introduce you,” he said with a smile and Jo felt the urge to pinch his cheeks in a teasing manner. 

“You like her,” she smiled and Laurie just shook his head with a chuckle to hide how shy he was becoming. 

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He knew it, but had no idea about how obvious he had been about the whole thing. Did that mean that you knew? He hoped not. He wasn’t sure that you felt the same way and there was no way he was telling you as much just to ruin your friendship. He couldn’t have stood to lose you. You were the most important person in his life. The one thing that made it even worth living.

“You like her,” Jo repeated, her eyes lighting up. She thought it was cute seeing him blush when talking about you and hoped that you knew how much love he had for you.

“I do not,” he waved her off. “Should we dance?” He asked, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible. He wasn’t going to talk to a stranger about his complicated feelings for you. That was something that he kept to himself, only letting the words tumble out in whispers as his head hit the pillow every night. Maybe eventually he would give you the letters he had written to you when he couldn’t sleep.

-

You had been watching the window since Laurie had left, just hoping that he would have come back even though you knew it was selfish. You wanted him to have a good time, but you couldn’t stand thinking about him spending time with anyone but you. You were just jealous and hated that you were feeling that way. He was allowed to have friends that weren’t you. Hell, he was even allowed to court another woman if he wished as the two of you were not together. You just wanted to be. But you would have never admitted that, taking that secret to your grave as it was far too embarrassing to admit.

The familiar carriage rolled through the snow, but instead of turning towards your house, you watched it move towards the one that was across the street. You remembered that the March family had lived there. Lovely girls from what you had seen and you hoped to befriend them someday. Even though meeting new people terrified you. You should have had a lot of friends considering your status, but you liked to keep your circle small as Laurie was your only actual friend. And that was the way you liked it, the boy being more than enough for you. But perhaps now it was time to open your circle.

You stood there, watching two of the sisters exit the carriage holding onto each other as one of them was hobbling as they headed towards the door. Laurie was not far behind them and the three of them quickly disappeared into the house and you didn’t know why your heart was aching. 

You stayed like that for a while, refusing to move from the window until Laurie fled the house. And you were quick to get back into your bed, closing your eyes as you heard his footsteps on the stairs. Your door creaked loudly as it opened and closed, Laurie wincing at how loud it was. 

He kneeled by your bed and was quick to bring the back of his hand to your forehead, letting out a sigh of relief as he felt that it wasn’t warm anymore. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw that boyish grin appear on his face as his eyes locked on yours. His hand moved to the top of your head, stroking your hair as he looked down at you, wondering how someone could look so beautiful after being so sick. 

“Hello, sleepyhead,” he greeted in a whisper and your smile mimicked his, not able to keep it off your face. 

“Hello,” you replied as you scooted over, patting the spot where you had been previously. Laurie removed his shoes then got under the covers with you, pulling you to his chest like he always did. “Did you have a good time?” 

“I did,” he nodded. “But not as much as I would have if you had been there.” And that was true. As much fun as he had with his new friend, he still couldn’t stop thinking about you and how you were doing. But that was just what was always on Laurie’s mind: you. 

“Right,” you laughed. “We both know I’m just a bore.” 

“Not true,” he argued, pulling you closer. “You never bore me,” he said before climbing out of the bed, holding his hand out to you. “Now dance with me, y/n. Before I forget the song I remembered for you.” 

You hesitantly took his hand and he helped you from the bed, letting you hold him since your legs felt a bit like jello,  but that only meant that he could be closer to you. This wasn’t the usual kind of dance you participated in, though. Laurie had you lay your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around each other as he began to sway back and forth as he hummed the song to the best of his ability. 

You believed that this was the moment that you truly fell in love with the boy. Because how many people would have memorized a song from a party then come home and sing it to you while he danced with you? And you could tell that he was tired so it meant even more to you that he was insisting on creating a special moment for you. 

You stayed like that for a while, being wrapped up each other’s arms, swaying next to the fire place to keep warm and then once you decided to go to sleep, Laurie just curled up in your bed with you, pulling you into his arms, whispering that you were his best friend before pressing a kiss to your forehead and falling asleep.

After

The door was ajar when Laurie got to it. He peeked inside and there she was, looking as beautiful as ever as she cleaned off her paint brushes. He hadn’t seen Amy in so long and the years had been kind to her. She looked like a woman now, so much older than the little girl she had always seemed to be in his mind. 

He crept through the door with his bags on his shoulders, completely unaware of how one of them had hit the table, causing Amy to whip around at the noise. A gasp escaped her mouth as she took in who it was. She hadn’t been expecting him at all, and if she was being honest, she had only sent the letter to him for your sake. She hadn’t wanted to see him after what he had done to you. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, turning back around to finish drying off her brushes. Her question wasn’t so much accusatory as it was genuine and Laurie was very confused by it. Hadn’t she asked him to come? 

“You asked me to come in your letter.”

“Oh, so you still get those?” Her tone was nothing but bitter and Laurie hated seeing this side of her. 

“You’re mad,” he said as he pursed his lips, knowing that he couldn’t use his smile or flirty tone to get out of this one. 

“Oh, mad doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Amy replied, throwing her brushes down onto the counter before turning to fully face the boy, well, now man. “I’m furious.”

“Furious,” Laurie couldn’t help but laugh a bit at seeing his little Amy so upset, even though it was no laughing matter. He couldn’t practically see the smoke coming out of her ears and was trying his hardest to remain serious.

“This isn’t funny, Laurie. I have stood by and watched you string along that poor girl and I won’t do it anymore.” He furrowed his eyebrows, not liking what she had been implying. He didn’t think that what he had been doing with you would have been considering stringing along. It seemed like a harsh description even though he was aware that it wasn’t particularly right.

“String along?” He barked out another laugh and Amy was growing very frustrated, realizing that even though he had grown older, the boyish behavior was very much still there.

“Be serious!” Amy tossed her brushes onto the table in front of her and turned around to face Laurie, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You know what you’re doing and the thing is, you don’t even care. You spent years pining for Jo and when she rejected your proposal, you just ran back to y/n because you were lonely and desperate for attention.”

“But-”

“And guess what, Laurie? You don’t deserve her. She’s too good for you and I’m tired of watching you hurt her so that ends now. I only asked you here because she wouldn’t. And even though she won’t admit it, she wants your support. She wants you to be here for her through her tough time and you’re going to do it with a smile on your face. Because for once, it’s not about you.” 

Laurie let his bags fall to his feet as her words sank in. He didn’t appreciate what she was saying even though he knew that she was right. All his life, no one had quite called him out like that. And perhaps that was because he was such an important person in society and they didn’t want to upset him. And maybe it hurt even more because Amy knew him. She saw him for exactly what he was and wasn’t afraid to call him out when necessary. 

“Okay, maybe I don’t deserve her and yes, maybe she’s too good for me, but that’s not why I’m here. And who said anything about it being about me?” 

“Nobody did,” she shook her head. “I just-I-don’t understand why you always go after what you can’t have.” The truth was that Laurie just liked the thrill of the chase and because of his status, it was abnormal for women to not want him, so when Jo had rejected his proposal, he was utterly confused. Because he thought that she had loved him in the way that he loved her, but clearly he had been wrong. 

But you loved him in the way that he wanted Jo. So he went to you for a shoulder to cry on and things escalated very quickly and before he knew it, you were both naked in your bed. He hadn’t regretted that night, no. That night had been nothing but special to him, but he hated the way he went about it. How he had only been there for comfort and nothing else. He hadn’t meant to sleep with you, but seeing you there, looking so beautiful, he just couldn’t help himself. 

After that night, things were different for the better, but he still felt himself holding you out at arms length just like always. Because as much as you had loved him, he was afraid to let you in, afraid to start something romantic with you because he was scared of losing you. Scared that everything that you had together would slip through his fingers and he would have been left with nothing. 

But that was where he was at that moment. All his friends had sided with you, and rightfully so. He should have been lucky that at least the March sisters were there for him, even though all they had done since your friendship had ended was tell him how badly he had screwed up. 

He didn’t need them to tell him that, though. He had been the first to see it and no one had been as mean to him about it as he had to himself. Because deep down, Laurie was his own worst enemy. 

“You know what, maybe I should just go.”

“Maybe you should. Because we were all much happier when you were in London.” The words stunned Laurie into silence. He couldn’t believe that you had something like that, and worse, that you had meant it.

“I’m gonna go see Fred.” He just needed to get away from the hostility and surround himself with someone who always took his side. 

“He’s in the study. And do not ask him about y/n,” she pointed at him with a warning, and as afraid of Amy Laurie was, he was still going to ask Fred. He was sure that the man would give him answers that Amy wouldn’t. 

Laurie fled the studio and hurried towards the house, hauling his bag along with him. He was muttering under his breath as he walked, wondering how the hell he had gotten himself into such a fucking mess. 

If he hadn’t behaved like such an idiot then maybe you would have married Jacques instead of him. If he had stopped chasing after Jo when she made it clear that she didn’t want him, if he had been home to answer your letters, then maybe everything would have panned out the way he wanted them to. 

Laurie got into the house and the housemaid took his bag up to the guest room while he made a beeline for the study. He knocks on the door and it opens not long after, his face lighting up to match Fred’s but it quickly fell when Fred’s did, the man’s eyes narrowing into slits as he went to slam the door in Laurie’s face, but he quickly pushed his hand against it, pushing it open as he stepped inside.

“What do you want, Theodore?” Fred asked, his voice dripping with venom. Jesus, Fred too? Just how badly did Laurie fuck up? He knew, but he was afraid to actually ask.

“I wanted to see my old friend,” Laurie tried with a smile as his hand moved up to pat Fred’s shoulder. 

“We’re not friends, Laurie,” Fred tells him and now Laurie’s heart breaks even more, now officially in half as he realized that he didn’t have anyone anymore. And to add insult to injury, it was all his fault. He fucked everything up and now he supposes he deserves it all even though he’ll try to convince himself that he doesn’t just to make himself better. 

“You lost the privilege to call me that when you toyed with y/n’s emotions. You weren’t here, Laurie,” Fred said as he turned to face his desk then turned back, pointing at the man standing in front of him. “But you know what? I wish you were because then you would have seen just how evil and vile you really are. You hurt that girl, Laurie. Broke her down so much that she lost a part of herself, a part that you now have and I hope you know just how lowly we all think of you now. Now I suggest you leave right now before she sees you because that would be really selfish of you to do so. Well, you’re going to do it anyway because that’s exactly what you are. And I guess, if the shoe fits, wear it, right?” He asked then turned back to his desk, only turning back once he had heard the door close as Laurie fled. 

Laurie felt a sob rake through him as he hurried out of the house, completely abandoning his things as he ran to his carriage, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. He couldn’t stand being there when he was unwanted. He couldn’t believe that all of his friends were turning against him because of you. They didn’t even know the full story and were siding with you when he had known them first. God, everything was just so fucked up.  He cried in the carriage all the way to the destination and barely remembers uttering and he only stopped the tears when the carriage stopped at a house. Your house. He feels like nothing but a fool as he stumbles out into the snow, slowly moving towards your front door and hoped that his red, tears stained face will just look like a product of the cold weather as he raises a shaky hand to knock on the door.

[callooopie]

₊ ⊹ // Dull Abstracts, Duller Hearts \\ Micolash, Host of the Nightmare

“How essential to me, you have become.” - Sackville-West to Woolf

What’s Micolash to do, when his academic rival comes to sit by him to comfort him?

—

a/n: Have never written fanfic, only read it. This is really just a blurb I had to get out of my head is all. And for the most deranged and unhinged Bloodborne character at that 😵‍💫. So this is nothing too crazy, enjoy?

Warnings: allusions to gore(ish), metaphorical masochism(??), rushed ending(☹️), written on phone(format might be ugly and idk how to format in general)

Word Count: unknown

It wasn’t your fault you got that scholar all worked up over nothing. Well- to you it was nothing, to him it was everything. Once again your work, your research, was praised and accolades were given to you by master Willem. And once again, Micolash is left in the academic dust.

You find the man skulking by the lake, glittering in the moonlight. Dirtied boots kick at the dirt as you walk over to him from the entrance of Byrgenwerth.

“Moping again?”

You call out as you walk.

“Hardly- actually I am not moping. Quite the opposite, on the contrary.. yada yada..”

He replies grumpily, throwing another pebble into the lake. A mere drop that ripples across the surface. Either he’s actually being sarcastic and funny, or he is fully trying to convince you he is not moping. Whatever his motives, he only serves to look like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Well. Wrong. I can tell you’re moping.”

You reply back with the tiniest bit of smugness, sitting down beside him on the banks of the lake. Leaning back against your hands, your eyes slowly settle on the lake.

You let the comfortable silence overtake you both like the waters of that moonlit lagoon. Perhaps you have nothing to say, or maybe you’re just waiting for Micolash to crack, to begrudgingly start to complain or vent or do anything to voice his frustration. What you’re doing is condescending, it’s annoying, it’s comforting. And maybe there’s a sick part inside of him that revels in this comfort you give him, even under the guise of academic rivalry.

Micolash scoffs at your words, but doesn’t say anything. He’s not upset at you; he can’t be. You’re not making fun of him, you’re actually doing quite the opposite. You and him could go back and forth like the ebb and flow of tides.

It’s a bothersome notion to him, that just like how ocean waves can’t push and pull without the moon; he can’t imagine his life without you. Now the scholar’s just being dumb and romantic about someone who sees him as a rival, someone to beat out in studies and scholarly research. How vexing he thinks to himself. It’s enough to make him nauseous.

“I’m just looking at the lake.”

Micolash grumbles with annoyance plain in his voice. If only he had a cigarette, and if only he didn’t give his last one to Laurence. Damnable prick.

You say nothing, merely flashing a tiny smile as you continue to stare out onto the lake. Your head falls back as you lean against your hands behind you, lounging with the cool breeze that comes off the waters.

“I actually quite liked your study.”

You admit nonchalantly into the air.

“Perhaps master Willem and the others simply didn’t understand it.”

You suggest coolly as you tilt your head side to side slowly in a meandering motion. A highly unlikely scenario, however the idea is oddly comforting to Micolash. As much as he dislikes said idea. Was it a rule now that academic papers had to be understandable??

“I did though.”

You add on after a beat of silence, finally turning to look at Micolash fully. That look of yours; so curious, understanding, sympathetic- fucking gentle; everything that Micolash believes he shouldn’t be looked at with.

Something in your words strike him. Or actually- your words do strike him. Hard. Like a lightning bolt, like Cupid’s arrow. Like a quicksilver bullet from a pistol, all in a good way of course. Oh, you understood his essay? Obviously you did, you’re smart, terribly and beautifully smart. But you complimented him..through his work- ..which technically still counts as a compliment to him.

Micolash feels as if he could throw up any second.

“.. you did?”

He asks quickly with that turned up half-grin. He’s trying to be normal about it. Trying to hide his emotions that are whirling around inside like storms.

“Of course I did. Although- it was more like ramblings than a thought-out and planned dissertation.”

You say, eyes shifting to look up at the stars that hung overhead.

“However it was ..beautifully written. Much better than Laurence’s dull abstracts and compositions on blood.”

It was.. a backhanded compliment for sure, you were known for those. But Micolash found himself wanting more of it. Gods, you could slap him around all you want. Backhand him with your words or your touch, either way he’d soak it up and give you his very soul in return.

Hell- you could even gouge out his eyes, crack open his chest like they did with cadavers and corpse heads. Bury your hands in him and search for anything and everything. Split him open on the table and peer inside him long enough to know that you infect every bone and cell and crevice.

However you do it, any touch you offer him is a prayer he’ll hold fast.

“Easy to understand hm?”

Is all Micolash hums in reply. Very normal.

“Oh yes... You know, ..-I like to think that we think alike.”

You comment with a beaming smile, moving your focus from the stars and lake to the scholar right next to you. Oh gods, Micolash is fearing this is going in a direction he isn’t sure he’s good at, stepping into territory he’s unfamiliar in.

He never did like the idea of courting, especially other scholars at Byrgenwerth. After all why go through something where he might get hurt? Where he’ll be made a fool of so easily? He’s strange, his reputation is least desirable. Workaholic, annoying voice (according to some- or most), uncanny at times. He can’t woo a man or woman to save his life.

Micolash could visit any lady of the night, pay the price for whatever bleak and quick pleasure he wanted. But to actively pursue you? An angel that’s out of his league some twenty thousand times? Out of the damn question and a fate that’s out of his hands and control.

“..Alike? We?- you and I…- ah- yes. We… do share similarities in our… thoughts.”

Terrible. He stammers like an idiot. Micolash wonders if he could just slip into the lake out of embarrassment. Surely you wouldn’t care right? Oh what does it matter. As he stares at the surface of the lake, watching it wrinkle faintly in the light of the moon. He likes the moonlight, he likes you in the moonlight. Is it possible to be as beautiful as a celestial body? Obviously it is, you exist. Ugh, he could just desperately grasp at you with need and want and yearning. Like the tides reaching up for the moon and heavens, he too would reach up toward you.

Perhaps you’ll never love him, or you’ll never know he loves you. Well.. what’s actually stopping him from outright confessing to you? From attempting some shoddy confession at least? Why can he not just look at you, open his mouth, and go I love.. I love, I love- please oh I love-

“You coming along back inside? It’s getting cold now- certainly don’t want you ill if you’re to best me at our next research proposals.”

You’re standing over him now, a gentle smile donned on your face as you wait for Micolash. Oh fuck, how long exactly was he just staring dead at the water with thoughts of you. Micolash blinks at you before briskly nodding awkwardly and standing up. The ever tall and lanky scholar dusting off his uniform as he looks at you, as normally as he can possibly muster.

He won’t confess and be made the fool. Not this time.

“Lead the way.”