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retvenkos · 3 years

Text

within these lines | t.l.

Little Women - Theodore “Laurie” Laurence x Reader, fluff requested by @mywinterbucky - sorry for the wait!

tw: none

word count: 1.6k

prompt: “you still have that?”

A/N: sorry timothee chalamet fans, but the gif is of christian bale’s laurie because sometimes you gotta switch it up, y’know? after all, variety is the spice of life.

Summary: The world had come in between Laurie and (Y/n) five years ago, but neither time nor distance could keep them apart for long.

There’s something elusively romantic about the teenage years. Despite any tragedy that reaches the hearts of the young, there is something infinite in youth that takes such melancholy and spins it into something beautiful beyond recognition.

It was in their teenage years that (Y/n) was torn from Laurie’s embrace - two friends on the cusp of being something more. A “perhaps” that ended in ellipses, each dot like the thousands of miles that separated them. All through their childhood, they had been together, and up until the moment (Y/n) was whisked away to England, they had constantly been at each other’s side. To have known someone so fully and to lose them so completely was a tragedy that often left the soul barren. But they were teenagers at the time, standing at the precipice of adulthood, and their minds preserved a beauty that existed in their youth - something unique and not likely to happen again; gold-spun.

When (Y/n) was plucked out of Laurie’s pocket and ripped from his heart, there wasn’t much else to do than wander. Laurie passed the days on his own and when he wasn’t lost amongst the memories of his youth, he was writing letters to (Y/n) when he ought to have been studying and fashioning poetry when he should have been sleeping. There is something elusively romantic about writing to someone you don’t have the address for - something that lies in the yearning of one’s being and the void that is left behind.

As the years wore on, Laurie grew out of those rose-colored teenage years, but his heart still beat to the rhythm of a sonnet. Across the ocean, (Y/n) was much the same. Although less of a poet, (Y/n) was a dreamer, and when they closed their eyes, they were there in the gardens of their youth, with a boy they had once thought of loving at their side.

It was a muddy, April day when Laurie felt a particular kind of ache settle in his heart. (Y/n) had told him, once, when they were hiding in the study of his grandfather’s house rather than practicing the piano, that muddy, grey mornings were their favorite. He had laughed at them back then, even after (Y/n) insisted that grey mornings had a comforting sort of calm about them - something that made sense to Laurie, despite it all. (Y/n) had insisted on the beauty of drab mornings, and when he told them that loving dull skies was like loving the taste of over-boiled tea, (Y/n) told him that they loved that, too. “After all,” they had said, “that’s how you make it when your grandfather is away, and there’s no one here but us.”

“But it’s not any good.”

“To me it is.” At their statement, Laurie made a face, and (Y/n) laughed like a spring breeze. “As is anything that is made with love.”

Laurie’s cheeks bloomed with a soft red at the mention of something so sacred as love, and he hid his flustered feelings by fiddling with the papers on the study desk. On a few pages, Laurie saw his own messy scrawl, and on a couple of others, he saw (Y/n)’s curled handwriting.

“Why don’t you make a list, then?” Laurie searched for a blank piece of parchment and set one down in front of (Y/n), giving them a quill and inkpot. “Make a list of everything you can think of that’s made with love.”

“Why?” And the curiosity in (Y/n)’s voice was gentle.

“So that I may make a list of my own, and we can learn to love the list of the other.”

(Y/n) smiled.

That had been many years ago, but Laurie could still remember the soft, subdued smile that (Y/n) had given him that day - an expression of contented awe. He had associated that look with muddy, April days a long time ago, and there was something particularly melancholic about a memory so beautiful and so full of love.

And a long time after, Laurie was still in the study, now in his early twenties. Sitting in a newly upholstered seat, he pulled out of a small tin box a stack of old papers filled with curled handwriting. At the bottom of the stack lay the list from so long ago, well-loved and well revised, with additions like “poorly done sketches from the neighbor children,” and “broken seashells from the beach,” written in minuscule letters.

Laurie was reading number twenty-six (“the singing of birds on Sunday mornings”) when a voice spoke from the stillness.

“You still have that?”

Transcending time and distance, Laurie would have known that voice anywhere.

“(Y/n)?”

Laurie's old friend, leaning against the door of the study, giggled from delight, and not a moment later, Laurie had them wrapped in a hug, his years of loneliness only tightening his grip - warm, enveloping, and ferocious, like he would do anything to never lose them again.

“Laurie, you’re going to crush me!”

“Wasn’t that on your list, though?” Laurie pulled away, holding (Y/n) at arm's length, looking into eyes he hadn’t seen in years - bright and strong; beautiful beyond belief. “Number thirty-one: ‘hugs you think will crack your spine.’”

(Y/n) hummed fondly. “And if I remember correctly, your number thirty-one was hiding in the closet during parties, whispering stories by candlelight.”

“You remember?”

“Of course, I do,” (Y/n) said earnestly, their brow creasing slightly, as though they were surprised at his question. “I have it right… here.” (Y/n) reached into the inside pocket of their coat, pulling out an old and fading envelope. They gingerly pulled out a piece of old parchment, reading the first sentence on the page. "Number one: 'the too-small gloves that you made me.' You really should have written my name - had anyone else found the list, they would have been terribly confused."

“You still have it.”

(Y/n) smiled, and the expression was there - that contented sort of awe that never failed to make Laurie feel seen and, perhaps most of all, loved. For a moment, the two just stood there, within arm's length, holding onto each other and marveling at all the other had become. There was something elusively romantic about the moment; something heavenly that had been captured in every poem Laurie had ever written and every dream (Y/n) had ever fathomed.

“I missed you, Laurie.” And those four whispered words held a fragile sort of intimacy that could be shattered with a voice much louder than a sigh.

“And I missed you more than you could ever know.”

(Y/n)’s breath hitched.

Laurie stepped away suddenly as though a spell broke. He turned his back to (Y/n), his cheeks already starting to flare, and scanning the study for another chair - something for (Y/n) to sit in, close to him, at last.

“Ah, here.” Laurie pulled a chair closer to the study desk. “You can sit there and tell me all about your adventures in England. Would you like any tea?”

He turned to face (Y/n) once again, and they had a mischievous smile on their face. “Over-boiled, I’m guessing?”

Laurie chuckled, looking downward to hide the embarrassment that crept up onto his cheeks. “I think you’ll find I’m much improved. I’ve had five years of practice since you were last here.”

“Five years,” (Y/n) mused, walking over to their seat and sitting gently. “It’s funny, it feels like it’s been an eternity since I’ve been in Massachusetts, but it’s only been five years.”

“Five years is a long time,” Laurie supplied. “A lot can change.”

“But a lot can stay the same. Or, at least I hope.”

The two friends looked at each other. For a moment, it felt like the world slowed around them, and they were nothing more than the teenagers they had been five years prior when they were writing silly lists of things that were made with love.

“Well,” (Y/n) started, “I suppose I have stories I could tell, but I want to know about you."

"Well, I want to know about you!"

(Y/n) scoffed and shook their head, an expression that was beautiful, akin to the breaking of a new day.

"Well, this town has been like it's always been." Laurie relented, relaxing in his chair. “The March sisters have been less willing to spend time with me lately, since my mood has gone sour. but you’ll be glad to know that I have plans for getting back in their good graces, soon.”

(Y/n) leaned forward, putting their elbows on the desk and steepling their fingers, as though whatever they were talking about was of great importance. On instinct, Laurie leaned in as well, two conspirators in an empty house. "Well, now we're getting somewhere, Mr. Laurence."

Laurie stifled a chuckle, (Y/n) clearly struggling to do the same. "Indeed we are, (Y/n) (L/n)."

They both broke, and laughter filled the room, the sound echoing through the floorboards, unearthing the past where they had done just the same when they were years younger, but much the same.

Laurie sighed. "How is it that after five years of being apart, nothing has changed?"

"Well, I know you, Teddy, nothing can change that." (Y/n) smiled, gentle but full. Laurie felt a tugging on his heart - something almost painful if it weren't for the care in (Y/n)'s eyes, wrapping him in the most comforting sincerity - a gravity more divine than existing. "Even when we were far from each other, I had your list and my memories; you were the most full thing I ever had."

"I didn't know if you'd remember."

"I always remembered you."

Laurie breathed.

“Well,” (Y/n) began, something in their voice a little unsure, endearing Laurie already, “Now that we know we both remembered and kept the list of the other, I have to ask: did you learn to love my list?”

“I did.”

(Y/n) seemed pleased. “Even muddy, April mornings?”

Laurie chuckled, the feeling warm and pleasant in his chest - like a thunderstorm in June. “They were the first I learned to cherish.”

They smiled at each other once more.

-- taglist: @locke-writes, @brokenandheadoverheels, @coffee--writes, @swanimagines, @amortensie // message me if you want to be added!

#little women #laurie laurence #theodore laurence x reader #theodore laurence #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #laurie imagine #laurie laurence imagine #theodore laurence imagine #x reader #gender neutral reader #imagine #reader insert #fluff #one shot #fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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roguerogerss · 4 years

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sunshine

Pairing: Laurie Laurence x Reader

W/C: 1.7k

Warnings: none!

Plot: Your love life is decided for you by your aunt, but that was never an issue to you until you met Laurie.

A/N: this is so short but it’s at least something? and i think it’s pretty cute. i’m kinda uninspired atm but keep sending in requests and i’ll give them a go! like and reblog if you enjoy please!

————

The sun was bright in the sky when she woke, the clouds that hung above her window looked full and fluffy and white. She'd forgotten to draw the curtains in her state of panic from the night before, and as she thought about what the day was to entail, that same panic slowly settled on her shoulders and she could feel a throbbing behind her eyes.

Wedding Day. Or, rather, arranged marriage day.

Y/N's mother would never have let it happen, but she'd passed when her daughter was only young and her father worked overseas for most of the year. She lived with her aunt in a cushy villa in the countryside, one that resided across from the field in which the March sisters spent most of their time.

That was how Y/N had come to meet Theodore Laurie Laurence.

Her love life had never been a choice that she'd had the right to make, with her aunt deciding who she was allowed to love for her, but that had never been much of an issue until she'd become acquainted with Laurie.

They'd met on the three year anniversary of her mother's passing. She was taking a stroll down by the brook to clear her mind, squinting against the sun after forgetting to bring a hat, and Laurie had gone rushing by and bumped arms with her on his way, knocking her to the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He had helped her to her feet and dusted off her dress for her, smiling all the while. It had occurred to her that in all of the time that she'd known Laurie, she'd never known him to do anything other than smile. He was like a ray of sunshine, always energetic and smiley and glowing. She often wondered how he managed to be so happy in a world that was anything and everything but.

By the time that she'd realised that she should've been out of bed and half ready instead of thinking about Laurie, her aunt was already bustling into the room, white dress in hand and ready to lace Y/N into a corset that felt tight and restricting and wrong. She rambled something about how Y/N should've already had her hair and makeup done, but her niece took no interest and instead watched as the silhouette of a seagull danced against the blinding sun.

Y/N's little concern for things in life that she didn't care for was what had drawn Jo March - and, consequently, her sisters - to her. Jo didn't care for social class or etiquette and paid little mind to the philosophy that women served the singular purpose of marriage, and Y/N was much the same. While her aunt was very much traditional in her views, along with most everyone else in Plumfield, Y/N was the opposite. Her aunt thought it was unladylike to let her hair down and enjoy life as it came, but doing just that had made Y/N the best friends that she had.

"You look beautiful, dear." Y/N's aunt commented, holding her shoulders as they both looked at Y/N's reflection in the mirror in front of them. The dress was cream, with a floor length skirt and circle and long sleeves, complete with small pearl details. It might've been beautiful, but Y/N couldn't shake the fact that she wouldn't be marrying the love of her life, but, instead, he'd be watching as she married someone else.

She remembered the day that she’d announced her engagement to the March sisters. They’d consoled her and allowed her to cry herself out, to the point that, when Laurie arrived, her voice was so thick and face so covered in tears that he’d insisted she lay her head in his lap and let him braid her hair. It was something of a tradition between them, had been from the first moment that they’d realised their mutual feelings and they were sure it would be as they grew old together - the one thing that they were certain of in life was that they would be married and they were more than okay with that.

“Tell me, my love.” Laurie had said. His voice was so soft and gentle and Y/N knew that what she was going to have to say would break him. “What’s going on in that pretty little head?”

She’d opened her mouth to laugh at what he’d said, but an unexpected sob had erupted and she’d soon found herself sat up and wrapped in Laurie’s arms. “My aunt she - I - Laurie -”

The words leaving her lips made no sense and she couldn’t find it in her to make sense of them. It had been hard enough for her to tell Jo, Amy, Beth and Meg, nevermind Laurie. Laurie, the love of her life and the man who she wished more than anything to marry and to love for the rest of both of their lives, and who wished the same. “Slow down. Take your time. I’m listening.”

Deep breath, “It’s Arthur, Laurie. We’re engaged.”

The light in Laurie’s eyes had faded and so too the sun in the sky seemed to as he held Y/N at arms length and watched her with parted lips and a soft pout. “What? You’re engaged?”

“Yes.” She felt so small. The word that she had just uttered was so small but yet it held so much hurt and caused so much hurt that it seemed as though it should’ve been huge. “My aunt...Laurie, she made me-”

She was crying again because she expected Laurie to leave. She expected that he’d pick up and leave her alone on the picnic blanket on the hill and forget about her. But he didn’t, he understood. Because Laurie Laurence seemed to always understand her, it was all of the reason why she loved him so much. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Never apologise for something that isn’t your fault.” Laurie had said. His arms were around her and he used his fingertips to brush lightly through her hair. His words had stuck with her and probably would forever.

Her aunt had left the room to allow Y/N to fix her hair into an updo instead of leaving it in the tangled mess that it had turned into during the night. She watched her reflection in the mirror, and she watched as the door behind her opened and Laurie stepped inside.

“I know I shouldn’t be here.” He said before she could even turn around. Hearing his voice was enough to start her sobs again, his sweet and gentle voice, so much unlike Arthur’s which was cold and hard and unloving and unappreciative of her. “Oh, Y/N.”

Laurie’s eyes were watery and his bottom lip wobbled lightly, the sunshine and light in the world seemed gone because Laurie Laurence was not smiling and Laurie Laurence was always and forever smiling. But he managed to catch Y/N in his arms as she let her shaking body fall into his embrace. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”

“It won’t, Laur. Nothing is okay when we are not together.” The sentence wasn’t something that she had to think about saying, and was almost a surprise when it left her mouth, but it was more true than anything else she’d ever said to Laurie apart from that she loved him. It was all she knew, that she loved Laurie Laurence and that when she couldn’t love him nothing would be okay and the good in life would slowly evaporate until it ceased to exist.

“Then don’t let your aunt break us apart.” Laurie pulled away and cupped Y/N’s cheek in one hand. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes, allowing herself to relish in it, in him, for one more second.

“What do you mean?”

“Stay with me. We can leave right now, she won’t know you’re gone for at least an hour and my father will cover for you. I promise.” Running away from her home life with Laurie was something of a dream to her. It wasn’t often that she did things without seeking a second opinion or taking time to think about the consequences, but her answer came quickly and with seemingly little to no thought in it whatsoever.

“Yes. Okay.” She spoke so quickly after Laurie’s proposition that he furrowed his eyebrows as if asking if she was thinking straight. “Yes, Laurie.”

“Yes?” He hadn’t expected her to say yes. He was asking a lot and he never asked a lot of her, but she seemed to be perfectly okay with it.

“Yes.” She was smiling and so was Laurie. Everything seemed right when Laurie smiled.

“We must go, she’ll notice you’re gone too soon if we don’t.” Laurie held out a hand for Y/N to clasp in her own, a confirmation that this was really happening and that he wasn’t going to lose her, that they really would be able to grow old together like they’d so often spoken and dreamed about while laying together in bed when the stars were out and time seemed to stop because they were alone together and nothing mattered.

“We can go.” She spoke softly, unclipping her hair and letting it hang freely around her shoulders. “Laurie?”

“Yes, my dear?” Laurie reached behind her to loosen the corset of her dress. He knew how much she hated corsets - much the same way she hated being with Arthur and for the same reason - that she hated anything that restricted her and stopped her from being able to do as she pleased.

“I love you. I love you so much.” She could say those words a million times and never be able to convey exactly what they meant to her. She meant that Laurie was her happiness and her muse just as much as he was the bad days and the sadness. He was her perfect match in love and in life and her best friend all in one.

“I love you too, darling.” And the sunshine was back in his eyes.

#laurie laurence #theodore laurie laurence #laurie laurence x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #little women #jo march #the march sisters #meg march #amy march #beth march #rogue does movies

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capsized-heart · 4 years

Text

Sky Castles

Pairing: Laurie x Reader, Jo x Reader

Summary: Summer has always been your favorite season in Plumfield. Perhaps it’s the lovely, sunny mornings and cool, calm nights, or perhaps it’s the fact that you and Laurie and Jo are practically inseparable in midsummer.

Follows the summers from childhood into young adulthood, with turmoils of the heart along the way.

Word count: 6.1k+

Warnings: fluff!!!!!!!!

A/N: hi, everyone. I hope you’re all staying safe and well! Right off the bat, I want to mention that I’ve pinned a post on both this blog and my main blog @sarapii-peachy about resources for the BLM movement to raise awareness and petitions you can sign to help make a difference on a smaller scale. Everything counts!

i’m back and now with a bachelor’s degree :’) class of 2020 high school and college esketit!!! we did it!!! in this historic pandemic!!! Sorry I’ve been gone for a bit, this fic has been my rocky transition/attempt out of writer’s block after my INSANE last semester of uni and with all the craziness going on in the world. I hope you can channel and take in some of this innocent happiness and childhood glee into your own lives as we navigate the shitshow that is 2020. Saoirse x Timmy x Reader here to cure me of my depression lmao

this title is also based off a chapter in the Little Women book where Laurie, Jo, and the girls go to a park and gaze at the passing clouds and talk about their futures...it’s honestly really sweet. Loosely based off of that!

Comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated on this💛! Not that you guys don’t leave love, but this fic like I mentioned is my attempt at kicking writer’s block in the ass, please let me know how I did! :) talk to me I missed you guys :)

tags: @ravenmoore14 @monikakrasnorada @dangertoozmanykids101 @toozmanykids @adawn1970 @mrchalamet-mrstyles @chavezlikesthings @loveylangdon@daygiowvibe @statisticlytimmy @ceexreverse @bamposworld @lilttletimmy @cindere-llaaa

gif credit to @sheisraging

You love New England for its rich, distinct seasons, how they each paint the countryside in eloquent sweeps of shade and hue. Snow, sun, and breathtaking landscapes of fall color that tinge the treetops throughout the year. You love Plumfield, Massachusetts more for the warmth and love the March sisters have shown you, each alike in personality, nature, to the equinoxes that have shaped your girlhood, each tender memory from your youth synonymous with Meg, Amy, Beth, and Jo.

Autumn. Cozy and comfortable, where motherly Meg showed you how to heat and dip caramel with the apples you’d carefully picked from the orchard for a rare treat, the kitchen swirling with the aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, turmeric, and spices that left you feeling aglow. She’d taught you how to use an embroidery hoop, how to let dough rise, how to bake a proper pie and how to fix any clothing tear with a simple needle and thread, her compliments quick for your ever growing domestic talents.

Winter. Like cool, ambitious Amy with her painting and taste for luxury and pleasure, how she would praise you for being the only subject suitable for her artwork. Laurie would moan and complain about sitting for hours by the fireside, begging to be excused to go play in the snow, but never you. Amy called you her muse, arranging your hair and skirts to her liking, softening your lips and cheeks with a touch of rouge. It was always such fun to make a day out of modeling for Amy’s portraits, talking and laughing as she’d set up her paints.

Spring. Sweet and angelic like little Beth, windows wide open as her piano trills would float on the warm air, curtains ruffling in the breeze. You’d sit beside her on the piano bench and turn her sheet music for her, to which Beth would give you a shy, rosy smile in thanks. She taught you how to play Chopin and Tchaikovsky, duet pieces where you’d accompany her on the keys, harmonizing with chords and your fingers flying easily together.

Summer. Your favorite season, refreshing, bright, where you and Jo would spend balmy days and long, cool evenings tucked beneath the shade of tree trunks and willows as you’d read in the sun, listen to Jo’s carefully crafted stories. Her creativity and imagination never failed to amaze you, how her writing could transport you to the farthest countries, or keep you grounded in whatever fantastical setting she’d constructed for herself. She’d often write about the two of you; two young girls, best friends who’d have all sorts of dazzling adventures exploring the corners of the world, without the taxing responsibilities of chores, or schoolwork, or the foreboding, inevitable reality that one day you will be young adults and childhood would be gone forever. You’d have picnics and excursions to the nearby fields, dozing in the sun and picking wildflowers, splashing and wading through the rivers and creeks when the heat became unbearable. Before Laurie would come and spoil your fun, of course. Then, you and Jo and Laurie would be like three rowdy boys playing in the woods, your laughter echoing off the trees and sparkling waters.

You first meet Theodore Laurence as a young girl in the fields connecting the March’s property and your own. You live just down the road from the March sisters, your house tucked away beyond the bend and you’d make the trek across the meadow and grasses daily to visit your neighbors. Being an only child with your father off fighting for the Union, the March house was like your second home and the girls and Marmee and Hannah always made you feel like part of the family, your own loneliness long forgotten as soon as you’d step through the door and you’d be welcomed back with laughter, squeals, and embraces.

Today, you are seeking the company of your friends as usual, returning a book Jo had lended you with a basketful of scones you’d baked in repayment. A recipe you’d learned from Meg. The autumn air is surprisingly warm against your skin, indian summer, flushed and golden and dappling the plains. It makes you smile softly, your mood pleasant as you gather your skirts in time with your step, adjust your basket.

Then, you see him. A boy making his way in the same direction, dressed smartly in a black woolen coat and matching trousers, a silk scarf tastefully tied around his throat. His curls are windswept and tousled, his gait relaxed. He feels your gaze and looks up, eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth ticks up in a friendly smile. Warmth floods your cheeks. You quickly duck your head.

He looks to be your age, but you’ve read tales of highwaymen and bandits roaming the countryside, how they’d feign kindness, only to strike unsuspecting travelers. Perhaps it was the work of Jo’s overactive and contagious imagination playing at your nerves, but why was he heading towards the March’s? You think of little Beth, how boys and newcomers made her nervous, timid. Your resolve hardens protectively. You have to keep this stranger away from the girls.

Your pulse hammers in your throat as you lift your head to see the boy still looking your way. He waves his hand in greeting.

“Hello!” he cheers.

With your eyes still locked, you pick up your pace and keep your silence. Curiously, the boy finds this amusing, laughing, making it into a game as he too begins to walk briskly towards the house, of who will reach the door first. You narrow your eyes, summoning as much hostility and wickedness to your expression, demeanor as you can muster. The two of you are running now, his grin wide and eager, your own mouth twisted with hard concentration as you race each other.

Your chest is heaving when you brace yourself against the doorframe, blocking his way with your arm, back against the wood. He’s not a second behind you and is already on the stoop when you turn to face him.

“Are you Jo’s friend?” the boy asks you with a breathless, easy smile. “You’re quite fast, even faster than her.” He adds. He’s practically bouncing on his feet, jovial and buzzing with energy. The mention of Jo’s name curbs your distrust further. Bandit may now be off the table, and the thought makes you feel a bit foolish now, but how could Jo befriend such a strange boy without you knowing? How did he already seem to know who you are?

Up close, you notice his eyes are green and mischievous, reflecting back the shimmering plains in flecks of amber as he gazes at you, your pulse fluttering ever so slightly…

You scold yourself internally.

Handsome or not, he was undoubtedly a boy of trouble who had somehow won over Jo’s attention. And no easy feat, might you add. Headstrong and resolute, Jo’s circle of friends was quite small outside of you and her sisters, and you liked it that way. You’d like to keep it that way as well.

You feel a sharp, ugly pang of jealousy curl in your stomach. You stick out your lower lip in a pout, turn up your nose in a way that would certainly earn a scolding from Marmee if she were to see your impoliteness.

“Who are you to ask?” You snap.

Your words do not take the desired effect on him. Instead of hurt, or embarrassment, the boy smirks at you, amused. He cocks his head to one side and leans back on his heels, studying you like you’d just asked him why the sky is blue. His mood is breezy, amiable.

“I’m Laurie. Is that better?” he offers with a comical pout of his own. You wrinkle your nose. This boy was starting to irritate you more and more.

“Surname?”

“Laurence.”

“Laurie Laurence? My, how silly and dull.”

He laughs, a low and pleasant sound that threatens to melt your angry facade. He shakes his head, hands in his pockets.

“It’s a pet name. Jo calls me Teddy, but you may call me whichever you like,” he says. Your jealousy burns brighter, flushing your skin, twisting together with a hint of desire and yearning.

You were once Jo’s everything, her favorite companion. She made this clear with how she’d tell you plainly, how she’d spoil you with compliments and stories and affection. And now, it seemed Jo knew another, this Laurie, well enough to call him Teddy when you had no pet name of your own. She seemed to speak of you, which would explain Laurie’s cordiality, but did she tell him how you were the only one she felt comfortable enough with to critique her writing? How she would encourage your aspirations of becoming a dancer by arranging the foyer into a stage and cheering for you while sitting atop the staircase like an admirer in the box seats? How the two of you could jest and play for hours with nothing but your imagination, crying from laughter until your bellies ached?

You feel a sense of betrayal and heartache at this, an intrusion, a tirade of emotions you can’t quite explain. Did you want Jo all for yourself? Did you want to befriend Laurie as well? Did you just want to be someone’s everything again and to be doted on and loved?

Then, Laurie’s voice tapers into a quiet hum, a touch of softness. You hear the first indication of bashfulness as he looks down at you through full, dark lashes. “I hope the three of us can be good friends. I’d like to know you as well.” He murmurs.

You don’t know what to think of him. Your chest feels tight and your cheeks burn, from anger or passion you can’t quite tell. You’re contemplating leaving your basket on the doorstep and shoving past him to go back home when you suddenly hear a clamor of voices and the turning of the knob and then the door falls open behind you.

Laurie catches you before you can tumble through the entryway, hands finding your waist. Jo, vibrant and chipper as ever, lights up when she sees you and her sky blue eyes shine like glass. She has her cap fitted over her wavy blonde curls, skipping into your arms and for a moment you’re sandwiched between the two of them. You flush scarlet.

“Oh, good! You two have met. Goodbye, Marmee! I’m going out!” Jo calls into the house, her voice overlapping with her sisters’ as they all greet you in a burst of chaos. But before Jo can usher you outside, you feel your childish temper flare and you squirm out of her reach and back through the open door and into the house. You set your basket onto the table, turning to hide your face in Amy’s shoulder with a flutter of your skirts as you feel the hot sting of tears prickle your eyes. You weren’t going to let this Laurie boy see you cry upon your first encounter.

“I’m not coming.” You mumble. Amy’s hand comes to soothingly pet back your hair with a hush of surprise and you sense her look to Jo with a characteristic glare.

“Jo, what have you done?” Amy presses.

“I’ve done nothing!” Jo retorts with a huff. Then, her voice turns gentle, curious as she speaks to you. “Dear, what’s the matter?”

“She wouldn’t be on the verge of tears if you hadn’t done nothing, would she?” Amy replies. You laugh weakly, tightening your arms around her. “See?” Amy says. “You’ve broken her heart, the poor thing.”

“Jo’s made new friends,” you sniffle, embarrassed when Laurie’s eyes meet yours. Amy’s arms around you make you feel comforted and safe, brave enough to voice your true burdens when you say, “I’ve been replaced,” and gaze back at Laurie in defiance, protest. He frowns and shifts his weight, looking genuinely sorry with a guilt that touches his eyes. Good, you think. Let him think twice before stealing away your best companion.

At this, Jo’s expression softens with understanding and warmth as she sees you curl into Amy once more. Jo takes a step into the open doorway, leaving Laurie on the stoop.

“No one could ever replace you, dear,” she says. “I only keep Laurie around for when I’m bored and you aren’t around to play. Look at him,” she gestures in his direction. “He’s aloof and vain, he’s lazy, he doesn’t have an ounce of the imagination you do-”

“Don’t forget arrogant.” Amy pipes up.

Jo nods, wagging a finger at her sister. “Right you are, Amy. We mustn't forget that.”

Laurie starts to puff up with a temper, his lips twisting together and you can see him struggling with whether to speak up and defend himself, or let the girls have their fun for your sake. Jo goes on, saying he was devious and too pretty for his own good, making you and Amy giggle as she rubs soothing circles into your back. It’s rather polite and charming as you watch Laurie suffer silently, biting his tongue as Jo continues to defame his character before she finally turns back to you.

“I should have introduced the two of you properly, and for that, I’m sorry,” says Jo. “You must have had quite the surprise running into him.” Laurie again glances to you with an apologetic softness, wringing his hands together. “So, what do you think, Teddy? Are we ready to start afresh?” Jo asks him, hands on her hips.

This makes you laugh, bubbly, your mood perking up as you finally lift your head from Amy’s shoulder. Of course, Jo would be able to comprehend your grievances and somehow peg Laurie with the blame, how she knew your heart was delicate and tender and so full of devotion that you were quick to hold grudges. Your envy dissipates and you feel a bit sorry seeing Laurie now in such low spirits, his theatrical demeanor now quiet and modest.

“If she’ll have me,” Laurie murmurs, glancing up at you with such a pureness in his glittering eyes that regret starts to settle in your stomach.

“And I’ve written more of that story you enjoyed so much,” Jo holds out a hand to you. “Won’t you come hear what happens next?” she asks. Slowly, like the pull of a magnet, you untangle yourself from Amy’s arms and cross the room to take Jo’s outstretched hand.

“Alright.” You say at last. Jo beams and cradles your face with her other hand, swiping away your tears with her thumb. You let her baby you like she would with Beth, enjoying her touch against your cheek.

“That’s my sweet girl.” She smiles.

You then look to a sheepish Laurie and extend a hand, filled with new courage. You tell him your name and echo back his words that you hope the three of you can indeed become good friends, that you and Jo could do well with another acquaintance. The smile Laurie gives you is genuine, sweet and gentle, the corner of his mouth turning up in crooked delight. He clasps your hand warmly.

“I would want nothing more.” Laurie laughs.

And with that, nestled between Jo and Laurie, you step back outside into the rich and golden light of a warm autumn afternoon, curious, excited for what adventures the day will bring you.

Laurie joins your duo swimmingly and the rest of the year passes in pleasant tranquility as the three of you spend nearly every waking moment by each others’ sides. All Hallow’s Eve finds you dressed in a costume of French royalty, a pompous and comical gown of ballooning fabrics, complete with a powdered wig of pins and curls. You’ve painted your face with overlined lips and the trademark mole below your eye and the March sisters double over with laughter as you enter the foyer, fluttering your paper fan with an aristocratic pout, Laurie saluting your entrance with a roar of, la plus belle fille du monde! Jo is dressed as a fearsome pirate, outfitted in boots, breeches, and a captain’s hat, the wooden sword you and Laurie helped to paint swishing through the air as she parades into the room. Laurie enters last with a bang and a flash of white powder, appearing before your eyes in true magician fashion with a top hat and cane, a false mustache pasted onto his upper lip. All six of you then march across the field to the Laurence residence, now alight with carved pumpkins and lanterns, for your All Hallow’s Eve party of sweets and games.

Christmas brings festivities, flurries, and cheer. Sledding, ice skating, days of cold and winter fun making snow angels and snowmen, decorating the March house with holly, mistletoe, culminating into a hearty turkey dinner as you sit perched next to Laurie. The candlelight is homely, the sound of laughter and clinking silverware washing over you and you catch Laurie’s eye as he lifts his fork to his mouth. The two of you grin, leaning into each other with quiet happiness, heads bowed. You and Laurie both mirror each other in being only children, meaning these times together have been filled with welcome camaraderie. Where your instances of yearning for the companionship of siblings that only those without can understand, you’ve found company in each other, never a dull moment, never lonely.

The thaw of spring keeps you tucked away indoors with torrents of rain pelting against the roof. Jo reads to you aloud from her novel, asking for your thoughts every so often as you and Laurie lounge on the sofa. When you articulate a point of slight critique on Jo’s use of character, Laurie teasingly tugs on a lock of your hair with a smirk.

“How perceptive.” He murmurs, grinning.

You swat his hand away, glaring at him in mock anger.

And as the days grow warmer, so does your heart. You’ve learned to share your affection between Laurie and Jo in a way you think is equally matched and that autumn day where you’d been so sour to both of them seems like ages ago. Soon after that incident, your bravado had quickly morphed into appreciation and Jo had been eager to break the ice between you and Laurie. And like all children, your differences and jealousy had been set aside as you’d discovered he was quite fun to be around. Laurie shared Jo’s quick wit and intelligence, like an androgynous mirror, so much of yourself also reflected in both of them in time and they in you. And yet, Laurie had a certain charm about him; how he could have the two of you in stitches and still maintain the air of sophistication that was so often expected of the Laurence boy. Admittedly, you were thrilled to have them both as your best and favorite playmates.

In turn, they had done the same, showering you with loving attention and teasing, keeping you entertained with their bickering, quarreling over how they both wanted to occupy your time with their respective ideas for sport. Fighting over you. The thought of it makes you blush furiously. Yet, you feel cared for, like the most precious thing in their lives.You’ve also selfishly enjoyed being the apple of their eye and all the privileges that has bestowed; Jo writing you into her stories, featuring you as a beautiful sugar plum fairy, and Laurie promising to write you a French ballet, to someday whisk you off to Europe to experience high art and culture.

At last, spring turns to summer and the three of you are back to mischief and horseplay in the great outdoors. The days are lush, agreeable, bright and pleasant with flashing sunshine and lofty clouds. You’re again reminded why summer to you is synonymous with Jo as you run together through the waving fields bursting with flowers, Laurie right on your heels as he too gives chase.

“Jo! We were only kidding about the toads!” Laurie calls out from behind you. “It’s not like I have one in my pocket this very moment who’s squirming to get free and might have bitten me earlier when I caught him by the river and-”

He gives a shout of surprise and you hear his footfalls pause in the grasses. You and Jo both turn, breathless, already laughing when you see Laurie hopping about like hot coals are burning beneath his feet.

A small pond frog wiggles out of his pocket seam with a croak and then disappears into the meadow, waddling with great speed. With out-turned pockets and wrinkled trousers, Laurie stands there with his hands on his hips, confidence and humor masking his faults as always.

“My, they grow up so fast, don’t they?” Laurie says as he looks out over the crest of the hill with a humorous glint in his eyes, like a mother watching her child leave for the vast, cruel world. You and Jo collapse into a fit of giggles, holding each other upright by the shoulders and gasping for air.

Eternal summer and sun, a tender paradise. And as midsummer arrives, so does the heat. It’s stifling, heavy, the kind that suffocates and forbids any excessive movement or play, when being idle is perfectly acceptable, a rarity for you three young adventurers. Today, even nature herself seems to be drowsy from the stifling weather. Sunflowers droop from the weight of honeybees as they float lazily over the fields. Birds chortle from the treetops, as if too tired to fly, their song intertwining with the rustling grasses, tousled by the rare cool breeze. The sky burns a dome of brilliant blue above you, filled with towering, cotton white cumulus clouds. You watch as they drift slowly over the horizon. Like colossal ships at sea.

You rest your head on Laurie’s chest and he toys with your hair. Jo dozes with her arms pillowed across your stomach and the three of you are a sleepy dog-pile of limbs. The feel of Laurie’s fingers makes you relaxed, drowsy. You hear Jo then give a soft snore and you chuckle.

“What is it?” Laurie asks. You can already hear the smile in his voice, how just your laughter is enough to amuse him too. You shake your head against his chest and the movement makes you giggle again. Laurie joins you, flopping out his legs, the heat making you both delirious and loopy.

You reach up blindly and give him a firm nudge, your hand landing just under his chin.

“Stop it, you’ll wake her.” You scold him with as much seriousness as you can muster and failing miserably.

“Ow,” Laurie groans. He grasps your wrist, moving your hand to place it against his cheek and he puckers out his lower lip. “You’ve hurt me, I’m unwell.”

“Oh...Laurie, I didn’t mean it..” you sit up and coo, caressing his skin. Laurie looks pleased, a flash of playfulness in the green of his eyes as you lean towards him. “Let me take a closer-”

You cuff him on the ear ever so lightly, catching him by complete surprise and Jo wakes, cackling, throwing her arms around you.

Later, the three of you gaze up at the passing clouds, a comfortable silence settling over you all as you enjoy the afternoon.

“If we could fly up into those clouds and there was a castle with anything your heart desired, what would it be?” Jo asks. “Where do you two see your lives leading you?” Her tone is pensive, romantic. You and Laurie both hum in thought.

“You first, Laurie.” You murmur.

Laurie turns to look back at the bright blue sky, to the billowy clouds that look like spun sugar candy.

“I want to live abroad in Europe and be surrounded by music, my music. I want to compose, I want to be renowned for my operas.” He declares with a proud puff of his chest. Jo nods, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“That sounds very much like you, Teddy,” Jo says. “A bachelor making art in Europe, how capital.”

He makes a face, then winks at you out of the corner of his eye. You stick out your tongue.

“You can do it if you stay focused,” you add. “No more billiards, for a start.”

Laurie wrinkles his nose. “And what is it that you want, prima donna?” he asks you in challenge.

You turn away with a roll of your eyes, gaze to the heavens. The thought comes to you easily as you listen to the birds, feel the breeze tickling your skin, drinking in the sky.

“I want to be a ballet dancer in a prestigious company. I want to tour the world.” You say softly. Before, you would have felt embarrassment to share such an ambitious dream. But something about this moment, of being with Laurie and Jo makes you feel brave and safe enough to speak your mind, to put your words into the universe and have it come to fruition. Like a magic spell of sorts. With them here with you, you feel like any dream is possible.

Another chorus of hums and Jo looks pleased at your response. Laurie smirks up at the horizon.

“No fair if it’s likely to happen,” he laughs. “That’s cheating.”

“Oh, hush,” Jo chides with a rather hard sock to Laurie’s arm. She ignores his whines as he recoils and grumbles dramatically. “You’re well on your way, dear,” Jo tells you. “Now that you’ll be in that New York production next summer, I’m sure your opportunities will be plentiful.”

You hope she’s right. You’d secured a role as an ensemble dancer in an upcoming production of Romeo and Juliet, your most prestigious show as of yet in your young and budding career. Jo’s warm praise makes you blush like the flowers surrounding you, pink and full. Laurie’s quick eyes catch this, envious, and he changes the subject, a muscle ticking ever so slightly in his jaw.

“And you, Jo?” He asks tightly.

Jo exhales, crossing her arms behind her head. “Being a writer, of course. A great one. I don’t want to settle for less.”

“Doubtful,” snides Laurie. “I don’t see it.”

You and Laurie look to each other with a quiet smile.

“No, not with all the prizes you’ve won,” you add. “Impossible.”

Jo shoots upright, too quickly for the heat. She slugs Laurie again.

“Ow...Jo, it’s too hot for your beatings,” he moans. “Don’t be a poor sport.”

She doesn’t answer him, only gives him a final push and hunkers back down onto the grass, turning her back to him with a huff.

“Why am I the only one that ever gets hit?” Laurie grumbles, opening his shirt to cool himself off and throws his forearm across his eyes for shade, frowning. You giggle, curling up beside her.

“I believe in your abilities, Jo.” You whisper to her. She takes your hand.

It’s not long before the three of you are fast asleep in the sun.

And as the seasons and summers roll on and the fruits of childhood begin to slowly ripen with the passing years, you find your companionship with Laurie and Jo changing and growing like never before. Your friendship starts to blossom into fondness, adoration. Indeed, you’ve loved them as playmates and companions since the three of you were children, but as you flourish amidst that quaint, strange, and budding pocket of time when young men and women come of age, where you and Laurie and Jo are now struck with bashfulness and an awareness of being alone with each other, your love for them arches and glows like summer sunset.

This makes you acutely conscious of your appearance and dress, your posture, how you carry yourself, your mannerisms. How did your hair look? Did you laugh too loudly? Would Jo think your comments about her writing were too harsh? Why did you feel such warmth in your chest every time you saw her? And why were you starting to anticipate Laurie’s company? Why did you always have a sharp hope that he would come around with every visit of yours to the March residence? The constant whir of thoughts and worries was enough to make your head turn with heaviness, make you collapse from the pressures of simply existing.

“You’re acting odd,” Laurie tells you one day.

The two of you lay in a meadow with summer buzzing all around you, resting beneath the drooping leaves of a willow tree. Jo had been unable to join you as she had Beth’s lessons to teach that afternoon, much to her own disappointment and promising to make it up to you soon with an affectionate pinch to your cheek. You’d considered going home then. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone with Laurie, that familiar crush in your chest, an inkling of dread coupled with a shortness of breath, fear and excitement. You were terrified. But when he’d taken your hand and asked you so sweetly to accompany him to the meadow’s waters, how could you possibly refuse?

But of course, Laurie was quick to notice your nerves.

“The heat is getting to your head,” you say evenly with eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. “Besides, that’s rather rude.”

You hear him move and feel his presence directly in front of you, as if leaning in.

“It is a bit hot, do you feel up for a swim?”

This makes your eyes snap open. Following Jo’s mannerisms, you give him a shove in the chest. “You’re vile,” you grin.

To your surprise, Laurie’s teasing, playful demeanor is nowhere to be found. His gaze is instead thoughtful, holding your own like you are all he sees. Immediately, you feel your pulse kick up in the side of your throat.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he continues with a shake of his head. “You don’t seem like yourself. I thought a change in our routine could be refreshing.”

You give a light shrug of your shoulders. “I feel fine,” you say.

He brushes the back of his hand against your forehead. He hums, then curls his fingers down along the planes of your face to rest on your cheek.

“You’re flushed,” he murmurs.

Time seems to slow. The roar of blood deafens your ears and the fragrance of the sweet waters and blooms around you is overwhelming, sunlight refracting like prismed rainbow. Laurie kisses you then, a gentle touch of his lips, tilting your chin up to meet him. A sweetheart’s kiss, one that tastes of summer secrets as you’re shaded by vines and mist. When you break apart, he keeps his hand cradled against your cheek, his thumb circling the corner of your mouth.

You don’t know what to say. You’re speechless, your chest rising and falling softly, staring back at him with wide, surprised eyes. Laurie looks reflective, emerald irises half-lidded.

“What am I to tell Jo?” you whisper to him. Heat diffuses through your body like desert wind. You feel elated, cherished, frightened, embarrassed. Guilty. Laurie’s eyes flicker once more to your lips, his dark lashes fluttering with the movement. His smile is melancholy, yet knowing.

“You love her, too.” Laurie hums. It’s a statement, a confirmation of your feelings for both of them. The fact that the boy you’ve adored for so long has uttered your very thoughts out loud should have you completely mortified, yet there’s a small sense of comfort knowing he’d understand. Laurie knows this because he himself feels the same way, knows you or Jo or himself could never bring themselves to choose.

Laurie’s smile prompts you to lace your fingers together in the grasses and you give him a light peck on the cheek. He brightens up, raking a hand through his black curls.

“You love me.” Laurie beams.

When you tell Jo about the kiss, she’s dancing with you on the porch in the evening light. Inside, you can see Marmee and the girls entertaining themselves through the windows as you practice your pirouettes. Jo is dressed in her writing jacket and trousers, keeping you balanced as she plays the part of the male dancer, perfectly competent.

“What an impish boy,” Jo says of Laurie. You laugh and the two of you continue your steps, running through the dance number in a private rehearsal. Laurie is due to rehearse with you the week before your performance and the thought itself is enough to make butterflies explode in your stomach. Jo is a strong, leading dancer, while Laurie is graceful and firm, both capable of making the palms of your hands sweat with nerves. You know in your heart if you could rehearse with them, you’d have no fear on opening night. You’d already be invincible.

“Again from the top, please, kind sir,” you curtsey to Jo. Her smile is giddy and she gives a click of her heels before returning to her starting position.

“Of course,” she responds. Taking your hand, she guides you through the steps once more, your heart soft and temperate like the evening around you.

The sound of applause is warm and full, washing over you as you take your bows. You feel weightless, aglow, eyes brimming with tears. You think you see Laurie and Jo leap to their feet in the audience, but the stage lights are too bright and you cannot see clearly and you think you may faint from happiness.

In the auditorium, you’re still in your costume of Venetian silks and flowers when you’re swept off your feet by a boisterous Laurie and he twirls you around in his arms, his riding cloak billowing out behind him.

“There’s our Capulet! You were phenomenal!”

“I’m so proud of you, dear!” Jo practically shouts with excitement, tackling you next in a bearish hug when Laurie finally sets you down. Their praise is boundless, endless, showering you in so much adoration that your heart feels close to bursting. You gather them close, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

“Thank you both for everything,” you choke out, squeezing them tight.

Over Jo’s shoulder, you spot Marmee, Meg, Amy, even shy little Beth with a bouquet of flowers and then you let the tears fall when you run to them and you thank your stars for the luck and love you’ve been blessed with.

Another year, another summer soon arrives. You and Jo and Laurie are back in the fields cloud-gazing, a lazy afternoon of heat and leisurely time well spent. Things feel familiar, recognizable between the three of you, yet there’s a sense of distance between now and when Jo had first asked about your castles in the sky all those summers ago.

Jo was now making a name for herself in the writer’s world, having won another prize in a New York newspaper. She’d been gaining the attention of devoted readers and critics alike and was now working on a proper novel, her longest project as of yet. She tells you not to worry, that she’ll be sure to feature you as a central character in the same way she’d done as a child, nostalgic tales of pirates and adventure and love.

“My sweet sugar plum fairy,” she’d gruffed, pulling you into another powerful hug.

Laurie had finished his opera, now with aspirations of pulling funds together and opening a production in Europe. He was still in the midst of planning and conversing with his grandfather about finances and departure dates, but it seemed like Laurie’s promise of spiriting you away to Europe could now become a reality. And with the possibility of your very own French stage debut!

Thus, you three souls were being tugged into three far corners of the globe, to your respective callings. The realization scares you, to know that this may be one of the few times you have left together. But underneath it all, there was a sense of excitement to see the world and make it your own. You were satisfied, proud knowing that the three of you had come so far with your aspirations and you had no doubt you would find success in your art.

In the comfortable silence, serenaded by the hum of cicadas and birdsong, you gaze up to the clouds gliding over Plumfield, Massachusetts. You feel an aching longing for those childhood days of carefree play, the countless rose-tinted memories of Laurie and Jo by your side, yet looking up at the sky, you know these memories of summers past will always be with you.

And there would be better and more to come.

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elysiians · 3 years

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✿ wanted writing opposites ✿

{ bolded my muses! }

sav bhandari x holly j sinclair

jonah haak x frankie hollingsworth

becky baker x imogen moreno

frankie hollingsworth x zoe rivas

jt yorke x manny santos

zig novak x tori santamaria

beck oliver x tori vega

beck oliver x jade west

cedric diggory x cho chang

theodore ‘laurie’ laurence x amy march

jess mariano x rory gilmore

#﹙ ✿ ﹚ ⋯ ❛ wanted opposite .#degrassi rp #degrassi indie #gilmore girls rp

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gothwives · 1 year

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i have no business starting new threads with the amount of drafts i have but.... i need more dark/horror based things so consider this a starter call for that. available muses are listed under the cut but feel free to request someone else off my full muse list!!

jonah darke (b.ill s.karsgard)- he/him, 24, guitarist/graffiti artist

arwyn darke (s.ophie t.hatcher)- she/they, 21, documentarian

buffy bloom (m.ia g.oth)- she/her, 26, adult film star

esme cortez (a.lexa d.emie)- she/her, 28, man eating demon/exotic dancer/nail tech

frenchie horowitz (r.achel s.ennott)- she/her, 25, escort/podcast host

lux laurie (m.ia g.oth)- she/her, 27, socialite/heiress/psychopath

juniper sanchez (a.ubrey p.laza)- she/her, 38, surgeon

yvonne lopez (l.izeth s.elene)- they/them, 24, drummer/satanist

marnie babbitt (t.aylor r.ussell)- she/they, 27, doppelgänger/taxidermist

julian “jules” hicks (t.imothee c.halamet)- he/him, 25, bassist/record shop employee

juliette jackson (a.lisha b.oe)- she/her, 25, witch/apothecary owner

theodore “teddy” bianchi (a.dam d.imarco)- he/him, 30, english teacher

eden rockwell (l.aura h.arrier)- she/her, 30, investigative reporter

ash goldmann (f.red h.echinger)- he/him, 22, pizza delivery guy

devyn de silva (j.enna o.rtega)- she/her, 20, student/thief

blossom pines (z.oe c.olletti)- she/her, 20, camp counselor/babysitter

#indie rp #{ starter call }#indie horror rp #indie smut rp #i am trash and i have accepted it

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lovelylaurie · 4 years

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Chronology - Part 3

Growing Up Laurie x (March) Reader Words: 3524 Request: @psychshawnjuleshanluke A series where each part follows reader and Laurie’s relationship over time. Part 1 | 2 | 3

Winter, long awaited, wasted no time in cloaking the world under a shroud of chill and ice. The boughs of sturdy oaks hung heavy under the weight of snow. The forests and fields, once so full of adventure, were now treacherous, impassable landscapes. But you were not without consolation. Books offered a welcome escape, and you frequently visited Mr. Laurence to borrow more. And Laurie was making good on his promise to write letters. The first came barely a week after he had left, and every one since was an incredible boost to your spirits. You responded to each and every one, no matter how short or inconsequential. And thus your lengthy correspondence grew to be an immense comfort and joy.

You sat, now, in the living room of your house. The fire crackled and sputtered happily, providing some heat to combat the cold winter night outside. Laurie’s most recent letter was tucked into a book beside you.

Dearest (y/n), How could you think I would spend Christmas anywhere but home? I may have some friendly acquaintances here, but I would never miss an opportunity to see you for their sake, and I still need to fulfill my promise to return at every chance I get. “The companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain,” as Victor Frankenstein says. You would love it here, (y/n), there are so many libraries and bookstores and places to explore that I wish you were here with me to see them. And you will be. Soon, I hope, if you can come in the Spring as promised. But in the meantime, I have so many wonderful things to tell you next week. I will see you soon. Farewell and forever yours, Laurie

Around you sat your sisters, as Meg had come to visit, talking and chatting, and musing on what name she would choose for the baby, because she was now pregnant and we did not yet know that it would be twins. Though humbled by domestic life, Meg was as starry-eyed as ever about Mr. Brooke, “I’m just so excited for my first Christmas with John. And with a baby by next summer! Everything’s happened so fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she beamed blissfully. “I can’t wait for the ice skating and snowball fights and all the fun we’ll have,” said Jo. Beth, who was leaning against her, simply smiled. “I’m looking forward to drawing the snow, it’ll be great practice,” proclaimed Amy “What about you, (y/n)?” asked Jo, who was now looking at you expectantly. “Laurie,” you confessed. “We’ll have great fun, I can’t wait until he gets here.” “You and Laurie have grown very close…” Meg said, sounding awfully self-assured. “We’ve always been. He’s my closest friend and companion.” “Partner in crime, more like,” she interjected. You pretended not to hear her, “I loathe this separation.” Amy smiled playfully and teased, “Is that really all it is?” “Huh?” Jo leaned over to hit her, “No, Amy, don’t! Meg’s already gone off-” “I’m still here, Jo.” “-and I couldn’t bear to have any more of us drawn away,” she protested hotly. Everyone turned to look at you. “Well, I don’t really see what you’re all getting at. We’ve always been this way, Laurie and I.” “How do you feel about him, (y/n)?” Meg asked softly. Jo tried to reach over and hit her, too, but she was brushed off. You were beginning to feel quite oblivious, not clued into something that seemed so obvious to everyone else. But then, through all the compiled worry, the longing, aching for his presence, it dawned on you. The rush you feel when he looks at you, when he smiles, the flutter in your chest when he laughs, the flush of your cheeks when he grabs your hand. And when he kissed you… It seemed so obvious now, so clear, you were astonished that you hadn’t realized it before. Love. “Oh...” Meg looked pleased, “And she’s realized.” “Meg,” Jo whined, glaring at her sister, “how could you?” Their bickering faded as waves of realization washed over you and everything fell into place. In the midst of this cacophony, Beth leaned over, quietly and tenderly, and whispered to you with excitement twinkling in her eye, “You love him?” “Yes,” you breathed, with a smile forming at the corner of your lips.

The following morning, you were seated at the table, slowly picking through your breakfast with marked disinterest. Now more than ever you couldn’t wait for Laurie to arrive. Though holly and tinsel hung from everywhere, and Beth began to play Christmas carols throughout the day, it didn’t feel like the festivities could really start until he was here. But you had no idea when- Jo jumped up suddenly, “The Laurence’s carriage! It’s outside!” You sprang to your feet and ran to look. There it was, coming down the path. And in the window, you could just barely see, was Laurie. “It’s Laurie!” you shrieked as you threw on boots and a coat as fast as you could. Then you flew out of the house and down the path, barely stopping to close the door or notice the snow soaking the hem of your dress and toes of your socks. It didn’t matter. For him, it didn’t matter. “Laurie!” you called as the carriage came to a stop, “LAURIE!” The door burst open and he jumped out with a huge smile spread across his face. You engulfed him in an enormous hug, “Theodore Laurence, what took you so long?” His arms wrapped around you and his face nuzzled into your hair as you leaned your head on his shoulder, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Then his voice dropped and he held you tighter, “I have missed you so much, (y/n).” You remained in each other’s embrace until Mr. Laurence stepped out of the carriage as well, at which point you both pulled away and a blush crept onto your face. Laurie insisted that you get inside, after seeing that you had only a thin coat on, and no scarf, hat, or gloves. When you got to the house, he was embraced again by Jo and Marmee and everyone else. His return was as sweet as his departure was bitter. Your whole life suddenly seemed a little brighter, and you were surprised to find yourself not remotely worried about his leaving once again in only a few weeks. His presence now was so precious, so wonderful, it overshadowed all those concerns. One afternoon, to get away from the prying eyes of your sisters, you had suggested a walk, on a path well-trodden over the years that started close to your house, looped through the forest, and then doubled back on itself. It was comforting and calming to be alone with Laurie, surrounded by the sparkling snow and featureless white of a winter sky. The conversation was jovial and friendly, flitting between Laurie’s life at University and yours back home. “Out of all of us, I believe Meg has changed the most,” Laurie posited. “She’s the only one to have really changed at all.” He paused a while before continuing, “Do you ever think about the future, (y/n)?” There was a sudden change and drop in his tone that frightened you and ignited a feeling of disquietude deep in your mind. He sounded incredibly trepidatious, and you wondered, uneasily, at the cause. “I rather enjoy the here and now,” you responded shakily. “But we have so much to consider.” It was unlike Laurie to be this, so serious and deliberate. What was he hinting at? What was he trying to say? He had long held a special place in your heart, one you had recently put a name to. Meg’s future, marrying for love, was one you were just beginning to see for yourself. With Laurie. Possibly. But his hesitancy approaching this same subject was unsettling, and you began to think that he didn’t have the same plans. “I just want to enjoy a walk with you, Laurie, and not have to think about things that make me worried.” He was silent, and a nagging thought began to worm its way into your mind. Perhaps college had changed him during the past few months. Perhaps it had made him more realistic about his obligations and prospects. He couldn’t marry you. The crisp sound of snowy footfalls ceased as Laurie came to a stop beside you. Turning to face him, now a few steps ahead, you saw the way he seemed to lean ever so slightly more on one foot than the other. His hands were stuck in the pockets of his coat, unbuttoned despite the cold. “Can’t we talk, (y/n)?” He was somber, pleading, and incredibly tense. “Why?” it came out almost as a whisper, as a plea for him to stop and allow you to ignore it for a little while longer. “Why?” he repeated, “You know why.” Laurie’s face always had a special look when tense. His eyebrows didn’t knot, he didn’t frown, his expression suspended by a stoic serenity. He gazed at you, with eyes half-lidded, conveying an intense depth of emotion that pulled at the pit of your stomach. You shook your head. “No. No, Laurie, you’re being mean.” Something in him broke. “I know I’m not fit for high society. I’m not like Amy, I was never supposed to marry rich. And- and I just- you can’t, so-” you could only speak in fragments as your thoughts devolved. He took more steps towards you, “But (y/n), It’s always been us, it’s always been you and me.” “What?” He held out his arms, “You’re my whole future, you always have been. That’s why I’m doing this. Everything, all of it, is for you.” Whatever had broken in him fell apart as his voice cracked, “And I realize I’m not this great man, but… I figured you’d have me, (y/n).” That took your breath. “Oh, Laurie, of course-” you stumbled towards him and he pulled you in a longing embrace. In his arms, the full weight of your admission crashed down on you. He is your future, just as you are his. You thought he couldn’t have you, and he thought you wouldn’t, and the very idea of that sickened you. Because losing Laurie would be losing a part of your life, your soul. He felt so warm, so real, as he held you close. “I love you,” you whispered. A smile, a twinge of glee, played behind his eyes and at the corners of his lips. He held your cheek in his hand, “I have loved you ever since I’ve known you, (y/n).” Then he leaned down, catching your lips in a needful and tender kiss. You felt like you were about to explode, about to burst with emotion and passion. Whatever doubts, whatever fears and worries you had floated away as you melted into him. It was perfect.

Christmas day dawned quietly as the dim light cast sweeping shadows across the sleepy room. But any semblance of serenity was soon broken as your sisters awoke. First Amy, then Jo, and finally Beth. They rushed at you and pulled you out of bed with shrieks and giggles. Marmee peered in with a kind and maternal smile, “Merry Christmas, girls.” “Merry Christmas!” was the instant reply. Amy and Jo sprinted past her down the stairs as you and Beth shuffled slowly after them. Presents were piled modestly beneath the tree and the table was heaped with plenty of breakfast treats. But as the gifts were doled out and began to be unwrapped, you noticed something was missing… Amy exclaimed fervently, “Laurie’s presents this year are spectacular, what did you get, (y/n)? I’m dying to know.” He had given Meg some small domestic trinket, a picture frame which she immediately loved. Jo got some new pen nibs, because a recent writing frenzy had bent all of hers, as well as a dapper pocket watch. She had shrieked upon opening the box and now couldn’t stop pulling it out of her pocket every few minutes. Amy got a beautiful and tasteful pair of earrings that sparkled and glittered with her every movement. Beth got a new book of music, full of pieces she had somehow never learned before. It was quite a find. She flipped through the pages, running her fingers slowly across the bars and measures as the music played in her head. But for you… “Nothing.” They stared at you dumbly. “But we’ve agreed to meet later, so I’m sure he’s just waiting until then.” Sensing the tension, Beth proposed trying to play one of her new pieces, which everyone jumped up to hear. You were incredibly grateful. Touching her hand discreetly, you mouthed ‘thank you,’ which she understood and returned with a smile. You eventually lost track of time listening to Beth work out and piece together phrases and melodies. Laurie had promised to meet you at ten, but it was already five past and there was no sign of him, no figure approaching down the path, no footsteps in the snow outside. So, confused and concerned, you elected to go to the Laurence house yourself. Though the sun was by now shining clear and bright, the morning air was utterly devoid of heat. You would have waited outside, but the biting cold and your growing sense of unease drew you in. A servant showed you to the study, where you began to wait. You gazed off at the window, lost in anxious thought. Five minutes passed. And then ten. And fifteen. Finally, Laurie greeted you with an unexpected kiss on the cheek and a quiet, “Merry Christmas, (y/n).” “Laurie!” you jumped up in surprise and immediately hugged him. Oddly, nothing seemed wrong. He wasn’t distant or unhappy. He clutched you close, perhaps tighter than normal, and you pulled away quickly. “You have some explaining to do. First, no present. Meg gets the picture frame, Jo the pen nibs and watch, Amy the earrings, and Beth the music. Even Marmee gets a matching scarf and glove set, and Hannah got cinnamon and saffron spices. Oh! And you gave Father those books on philosophy. Then there was no sign of you, and I’ve been here waiting, and you’re incredibly late-” you stopped speaking because he was looking at you so intently, so lovingly, his eyes brimming with a passionate, but quiet, intensity. He spoke evenly and softly, “That’s because I’ve been talking with my grandfather. And if you’ll have me, then-” he reached into his pocket, but you hardly noticed because you were so breathlessly, stunningly speechless. What he was telling you, asking you, was everything you had hoped for and everything you could ever want. It wasn’t a pair of earrings or a book, it was a life and a future full of love and happiness. “I have this for you,” he pressed something small into your hand and you had to tear your eyes away from him to look at it. It was a ring, with a gold band, delicately filigreed, and an elegantly small, but still sparkling, diamond set into it. His smile glowed. Your heart practically beat through your chest. You could barely speak but still managed to murmur, “Yes. Yes, Laurie, of course.” He beamed, “You will, you’ll marry me?” “Yes!” you exclaimed, and he kissed you, passionately and fervently. His relief and elation were clear, unquestionable, as he gazed at you after pulling away. You kissed him again, and he kissed back feverishly. It was a heated, exhilarating moment, and you found it nigh impossible to tear your eyes off the brilliant, beautiful boy in front of you. As you left to tell your family, you found Mr. Laurence outside in the hall. Letting go of Laurie’s hand, you rushed to his grandfather, “Oh, Mr. Laurence, thank you! Thank you so much, I don’t have the words. I- I know Laurie can do so, so much better than me and that this is probably never what you had planned, but I can’t thank you enough.” Your eyes began to water, brimming with excitement and gratitude. “I think you know him as well as I do, Ms. March, if not better. He loves you, and no match could ever be better for him.” Laurie was practically bursting with emotion, a deep and affectionate ardor. You rejoined him and it warmed your heart to see the way he gazed at you. You could scarcely believe that you would get to spend the rest of your life with him. You were so young, so new to the real world. It was probably wiser to wait, until you were a little older, until Laurie graduated. But you couldn’t care less. You felt like running to your house, like running everywhere, anywhere, your limbs felt jittery, electrified. Instead, you walked slowly, with Laurie’s arm draped lovingly around your shoulders and a buoyant spring in his step. Somehow, you didn’t feel remotely cold. And neither did he, apparently, for as you approached the door, he leaned down and said softly, “I’ll wait out here.” You rushed through the door and burst into the front room excitedly. Meg looked up “(y/n)! You’re back!” Jo ran in from the kitchen, a pastry in hand, “What did you get?” You stumbled over your words, unable to express your complete and utter joy, “I- and Laurie-” you stopped with a dumb grin stuck on your face, glancing from your sisters to your parents and back again. Then Amy burst into a smile almost bigger than yours and shrieked before pointing at your hand and screaming, “A RING!!” commotion erupted and everyone rushed forward to look at it, talking over each other with questions and congratulations. Then finally Marmee found you. “I know I should have asked you first, as Meg did, but I couldn’t. This is just- it’s everything.” “I understand, (y/n), of course,” she smiled warmly and lovingly, pulling you into a comforting hug. As the chaos began to die down, Jo looked at you intently, “Where’s Laurie?” “He’s outside.” Meg gasped, “What, in the cold?!” They all rushed over and he could barely utter a ‘hello’ before he was pulled inside and everything erupted all over again. But once he could, the first thing Laurie did was turn to your father, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you, Mr. March, I know I should have.” “You’re practically family, Laurie, this just puts it down on paper.” You were inseparable for the rest of the day. Laurie was unable to go just a few minutes without holding your hand or putting his arm around you. As twilight approached, early in the evening, you settled on the couch together. You sat sideways in his lap with a book in hand. He wrapped his arms around you and twirled your hair in his fingers, reading lazily over your shoulder. The weight of the day’s events hung heavy on your eyelids and pulled them down. Drifting off every once in a while, you leaned closer and closer to Laurie until your eyes opened and you found yourself resting against his chest. He chuckled as you awoke and mumbled an incoherent “Wha?” “You fell asleep.” “Oh,” you replaced your bookmark and set the book down. “Keep me talking, I want to stay awake a little while longer.” “Alright, then.” He cleared his throat. “How did you enjoy your Christmas present?” “It was perfect.” You gave him a small kiss before continuing, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything.” You fidgeted with the fabric of your dress. It had been bugging you slightly, all day, that you had been unable to find or afford anything while he had literally proposed. “That’s nothing,” he murmured, “you’re all I need.” You reached out to hold his hand, “That’s sweet, Laurie.” “It’s true.” He tapped your hand with his thumb nervously, “I was worried you might say no.” “How come?” “We’re far too young, I’ve barely begun university, I’m being reckless and going too fast, I didn’t consult your parents.” His words didn’t sound entirely his own, as if he had been told them. “Is that what you discussed with your grandfather?” He nodded, and you could see his distinct look of blank, stoic tension begin to build in his now half-lidded eyes. “I’m not worried,” you assured him softly, leaning your head back down on his chest. He held you closer. “No?” His tone was incredibly earnest. “Why’s that?” You paused, for a while, to consider exactly how to express the depth of your feelings for him, your complete certainty that everything would be fine. “Laurie…” He grasped your hand. “You’re a part of me, of my very soul. I don’t think we could be apart if we tried.” He said nothing, allowing a dreamy silence to surround you. So entwined in his arms, you surrendered to the lull of sleep.

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#fic #laurie #Laurie Laurence #theodore laurence #laurie little women #laurie little women 2019 #laurie x reader #theodore laurence x reader #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence little women #laurie laurence little women 2019 #little women #little women 2019 #Teddy Laurence #teddy little women #teddy x reader

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