#little women fanfiction

[riordanness]

champagne problems — [l.laurence]

wordcount: 3.2K

warnings: angst

requested: no

a/n: i really love this fic, i spent a super long time on it and it took me ages but i love it so i hope you love it too <3

“Thank you,” I tell my dance partner, another nameless, tasteless, personality-less boy I will never see again. I smile and curtsy, and turn away, as I do every time. No one will ever fill the hole in my heart the way that he did.

I spot Amy talking to Fred, and weave my way towards them. I don’t know anyone else by anything more than name, and it’s awkward. It’s stiff, it’s strange, and it’s uncomfortable. Trying to make friends with these men, men who couldn’t care less about my feelings or my ambitions; just my pretty face and my willingness to marry. Once they discovered I didn’t have my heart in that; at least not anymore, they lost all interest in me.

“Hey, y/n,” Amy greets me, offering me a glass of what I think is champagne.

“Thank you,” I tell her, and take a sip.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Fred addresses me.

I shrug, and try to smile. “It is alright.”

Amy has a sympathetic look on her face. She knows me a little bit too well. All the March sisters do, as well as… him. He knew me better than anyone. Or at least that’s what I thought.

“Laurie!” I laughed, giggling so hard I couldn’t even escape him. His arms caught me tightly, poking and tickling my waist. I squirmed, but the pure joy of being with him was almost overwhelming.

“What?” he teased. “What’s wrong, y/n? Hmm?”

“S-Stop!” I gasped for air, playfully hitting him on the arm. Well, it was a pretty hard punch, actually.

“Ow! Y/n!” Laurie released me and winced, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry!” I tried to stop laughing.

He stared at me for a heartbeat, and just as my smile faded, he then grinned. “Gotcha.”

His happiness was infectious. I was smiling again, laughing again, purely and completely content to live forever in this moment.

“Y/n.”

Amy’s voice is a warning, and my brain only hears it a minute after I should. “Hmm?” I ask, glancing up at her. She’s used to my daydreaming, so I assume she’ll just repeat her comment, but Amy isn’t looking at me. She’s staring sternly at the staircase at the entrance of this ballroom.

I turn, and there’s a half moment of anticipation. Who has arrived?

Then, I see him. His wrinkled white shirt, untied bow tie. The glass of alcohol held lazily in his hand. His unruly curls are even more uncombed and unkempt than usual. His eyes are light with mirth and dull from the drink. Two women are fawning over him from either side, and he’s drinking up the attention more eagerly than the champagne.

Laurie.

My breath catches in my throat, and I try to swallow the sudden lump there. “Ah, I see.”

Fred puts a hand on my shoulder, a protective, big-brother gesture. I really appreciate him. No matter how many times I end up basically third-wheeling him and Amy when they go out, he never minds. Amy has told him all about what Laurie did to me, so he decided to step in and try to help fill that hole.

And I love him for it, but no one will ever be capable of making me whole the way Laurie did. And I’m not sure if anyone ever will be able to.

I take a cautious sip of champagne, watching as Laurie drapes himself on a lounge on the opposite side of the room. The girls with him sink to their knees on either side of his body, fawning over the boy.

I don’t care how much expression is visible on my face right now; I can’t do anything but stare in a mix of disgust, disappointment and utter disbelief.

Then, he sees me. His eyes clear a little, they get wide and surprised all of a sudden. He attempts to sit up a little straighter.

I can’t watch anymore. I turn and shove my glass unceremoniously in Fred’s hands, and walk out of the room as quickly as I can manage, heading to the little moonlit garden path I know awaits me outside.

I laugh as Jo tells me about her plans for a new story.

“I want to turn this one into a play,” she adds. “And you should be in it! The main character is just the perfectest part for you to play, y/n.”

I roll my eyes teasingly. “First of all, ‘perfectest’ isn’t a word. And second, you know I don’t act. I’m not going to be any good!”

Jo shrugs. “Won’t know until you’ve tried it.”

I don’t answer, my gaze sliding back to all the dancers on the floor. I wish someone would ask me to dance. But I know no one here other than the March girls. And I can’t exactly dance with Jo. She has a burnt dress and isn’t allowed to dance. Not that she minds; she says she’d rather eat a stick than dance with any of the boys here.

Then, I see a boy with dark curls and pretty eyes staring at me from across the room. I tilt my head, and give a little wave and a half-smile.

He returns it immediately and makes his way over towards us.

“Hello there,” he greets me. “I’m Laurie.”

Jo looks at him. “You’re the Laurence boy. You live near us.”

Laurie nods his head at her. “Miss March.”

“Please. Call me Jo. Everyone does.”

“Jo.”

Laurie then glances at me. “I don’t think I know you.”

I hold my hand out to him. “Y/n, Mr Laurie. I’m friends with the Marches.”

He smiles again, and it’s so pretty my chest hurts. Is this what falling in love is like? Is it supposed to be painful? Supposed to feel like you’re being ripped apart and glued together all at the same time?

I lean myself on the wall outside, my head against the cool stone bricks. My head is pounding, my temples aching.

I didn’t think that seeing him again would have such a strong reaction from me, but apparently even my heart rate still hurts because of him.

I can hear footsteps, but I don’t have the energy to hide my distress from anyone right now. Hopefully whoever it is will just walk by and leave me be.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Laurie’s voice will forever bring me the biggest rush of emotions in the world, but where it used to invite happiness and joy, now entices fear and anxiety and anguish.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Hello Laurie.” I’m surprised at how even my voice sounds. I expected it to come out shaky and distant.

“Hey.” He sounds unsure of what he’s doing. “What’s happening with you?”

My eyes are still closed, and I still have my head against the rocky wall. I shrug one shoulder. “Nothing much, thanks for asking.”

There’s three heartbeats of silence.

Then: “How are you?”

I sigh, open my eyes. “Laurie. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes are unreadable. “Doing what?”

“You know what.”

“Y/n, I…” His voice fades. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I give him a hard look. “Sorry? Laurie, this isn’t about what happened all those years ago. I’m over it; I’m over you.” I was lying through my teeth, but I refused to give him the satisfaction that knowledge would bring.

I sigh. “What are you doing, Laurie?” I wave my hand at him helplessly. “Drinking, probably gambling again? Fawning over random girls? Laurie, you’re better than this. And you know it, too. You’re throwing your life away, and I…” I swallow. “As your friend, I can’t just sit and watch. You need to stop this. Go home, go see your grandfather. Stop destroying the little boy he used to be so proud of.”

I turn, and walk away, leaving Laurie out there in the moonlight.

I don’t breathe until I reach Fred and Amy again. They’re laughing and drinking champagne together, but when they see me, the conversation dies.

“Hey, you okay?” Amy asks.

I try to nod, then tears glisten in my eyes and I have to drop. I shake my head, meeting my friend’s eyes. “I’m gonna go home,” I tell her.

She nods in understanding, her eyes searching mine, desperate for answers.

“I told him what he needed to hear,” I say quickly. “But—he still doesn’t know how much it hurts. And it hurts just to see him. It hurts deep in my soul. I—I can’t—“ I have to force myself to take a deep breath, sobs building in my chest.

I leave, Amy’s hand squeezing mine as I go.

I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling as ‘Aunt’ March chatters about how Fed and Amy are soon to be engaged, so I really must hurry and marry soon.

“Are you even listening to me, y/n?” she asks sharply.

I sit up straight in an instant. “Uh—yes of course, Ms March.”

“How many times must I ask you to call me Aunt,” she sighs. “You’re practically family at this point, my dear.”

I smile. “Alright, Aunt March.”

“Very good. Now, as I was saying…”

I zone back out as she talks, my mind drifting instead to Laurie. I truly had thought I was over him, or at least pretty much so. Rather, the moment I saw him, I thought I might explode. Seeing his smile, his eyes, the way he stands, it made all the memories just come flooding back.

“Laurie—“ I call, walking into his room one pretty Saturday morning. “Get up lazy bones. We’ve got things to do!”

The only response is a groan from underneath Laurie’s covers. I sit on the edge and poke at him.

“Come on!” I beg. “We’re gonna be late, you know.”

Laurie’s curls peep out. “Late for what?” he asks groggily.

I resist the urge to giggle. “Late for our adventures, of course. We have a walk planned, and you promised me you’d teach me fencing this weekend, and you have to keep that promise. It was a pinky promise.”

Laurie groans again. “I don’t want to get up, y/n.”

“What? Even to spend time with me?”

“Yes. Go away.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Theodore Laurence, not until you get—up—“ I poke him in the shoulder twice.

“Y/n!” he whines.

I laugh. “Yes, Laurie?”

He sticks his head fully out now, and looks at me. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, but I am not getting up yet.”

I ignore the flutter in my chest and grab his arm, pulling him hard. “Yes you are! I promised your grandfather I’d force you to exercise while he’s gone, and I intend to keep my promise.”

“Fine,” Laurie relents. He allows me to drag him out of bed, and after he’s dressed, the two of us head off into our favourite trail in the woods.

My heart hurts, and my head hurts, and my eyes hurt. I want to get up, go for a walk or something, but I can’t find it in me to do so. So I simply close my eyes and continue to lay face-up along the foot of my four-poster bed.

It doesn’t seem like long at all before someone is tapping my shoulder.

“Sorry, Amy,” I mumble, eyes still closed. “Did I drift off?”

“It’s… not Amy,” a quiet voice answers.

I sit up straight immediately, and come face to face with none other than Laurie Laurence.

“Hi.” He almost says it like a question.

I frown a little, unsure of the nature of this unexpected visit. “Hello, Laurie.”

He winces a little. “Look, you don’t have to say anything. You said plenty last night.”

“You needed to hear it,” I retort.

“I know.” He lets out his breath. “I’ve been thinking, all night, about what you said. You were right, you were right about all of it. I am wasting my life, I’m ruining everything because of one stupid mistake that unravelled it all. And–and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, in all the ways that I have. You don’t deserve a friend like me; you never did.”

He stands to go, and for a heartbeat, I think about letting him. But then,

“Laurie!”

“Laurie!”

I see him, walking along the street as I pass on the other side. I immediately break away from Jo, who I was escorting to town. “I'll see you later, Jo.”

She smiles knowingly and shoos me off. “Bye, y/n/n.”

“Laurie!” I call again, running to catch up with him.

At the sound of my voice, he half-turns, double-takes, and then his face breaks into a wide grin, the way he always saves just for me. “Y/n!”

I run right until I’m in his arms. “I missed you,” I sigh into his hair. “When did you get back?”

I feel him smiling. “Only just this morning. I was going to surprise you, but you beat me to it, tesoro mio.”

“Laurie, you know I don’t speak Italian,” I laugh, pulling away slightly to look at him. “I’m not the one who just went to Italy for a year. And don’t use it without telling me the meanings; it’s mean! I never know what you’re saying.”

Laurie has a faint smirk on his face. “Sorry, tesoro mio.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me,” he replies easily, and oh, how badly I want to agree with him out loud. Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, I’m head over heels in love with you.

So I do say it. “Yes,” I say, “I do.”

Laurie blinks at me. “What?”

My mouth opens a little, but for a second, nothing comes out. “I do love you,” I say slowly.

Laurie stares at me. “Why?”

“Everything, Laurie,” I sigh. “You’re kind, and beautiful, and you understand me better than even I can. You’re always there to cheer me up when I need that, and when I’m sad, you’re all too happy to give me your shoulder to cry on. You always know exactly what I’m thinking, and feeling, and you always know the right thing to say. You don’t mind my silly ramblings, or fantasies, and you don't care what anyone thinks of you. You’re always the person I want to be around; Laurie, you make me so happy. I love you, Laurie Laurence, and I think I always have.”

There’s silence for a minute, just a heartbeat too long to feel comfortable. All I can hear are the birds in the trees above us, but their songs sound alarming.

Laurie looks away, then at the sky, and finally back at me. His tongue swipes his lower lip in a way that I know is nervous.

“Y/n,” he says, and his tone instantly crushes me. “I—that’s extremely sweet and beautiful and I love you too, but…”

My heart sinks. “But you love Jo.” A part of me had always known, but I’d tried to convince myself otherwise. Clearly, my instinct had been correct.

“I can’t help it!” Laurie tries to justify himself, but he has no reason to. He can’t help who he’s fallen in love with, just as I cannot help falling in love with him. “I love you, y/n, I truly do. You’re my best friend… but the love I feel for Jo, it’s different. And you’re not her. You will never, and can never be her.”

I feel like someone has ripped my heart from my chest, stepped on it, thrown it into a frozen lake, and shoved it back inside of me. All I can manage is a nod.

“You should probably tell her then,” I whisper, and I turn to go. I can’t bear looking at him any longer.

That was the last time I’d seen Laurie for a very long time. I’d left for Europe with Amy, leaving Laurie and Jo to have a life together, if that’s what they wanted. Turns out Jo never saw him in that way, and he was rejected by her later that very same day.

I was still amazing friends with all the March girls, and I still cradled my childhood memories close to my heart.

But my heart has never healed. Every time Laurie Laurence was on my mind, it stung like only yesterday. Any day that a memory of those long walks, the silly fights, the hugs and dances, the inside jokes and dumb decisions came to me, I’d break down and cry.

“Laurie!”

He stops at the sound of my voice, turns, and his green eyes meet mine. He stares, waiting for me to speak.

“Don’t leave,” I say softly. “Please. Don’t make the mistake I did.”

He turns to fully face me now. “What mistake?”

I let out a breath. “Running. When someone needed me most.”

His eyes clear in understanding. I missed this about him, the way he’d always know exactly what I meant by everything. I never had to explain anything, because Laurie knew my heart. He always understood what I was trying to say, no matter what.

“Y/n—“

I hold my hand to stop his words. “Don’t say anything,” I tell

him. “You don’t have to. You have never, and will never, be under any obligation to return the feelings I have for you. That’s not your fault, and it wasn’t back then, and I’m sorry that I dropped you out of my life after that day. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when Jo turned you down, I’m sorry I never replied or even read your letters. I—“

“You never read my letters?” Laurie’s voice sounds broken.

I stop. “No. I—I didn’t.”

Laurie looks down, his forehead scrunching together. “No wonder…” he mutters. “You… you had no idea.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “No idea about what?”

He glances up, his eyes searching mine, for what I don’t know. “I wrote to you, y/n. Dozens of times. I poured my heart out into those letters. I told you how much I missed you, how badly I was hurting over what I’d said to you that day. I—I told you how Jo helped me to realise that it really was you all along. I’ve been in love with you since I first met you, y/n, and I never stopped. I just didn't realise it. But when you never wrote back, I assumed that was your answer.”

“Oh, Laurie,” I whisper, tears in my voice. “I’m so sorry.” A million thoughts are racing through my mind, but one rises above the others.

“Is it still true?”

He hesitates. “That I love you?”

I nod once. “Yeah.”

“It will always be true.”

And for the first time in a long while, I feel at home again.

[feyofmay]

The Oak Door

Laurie x March!Reader (aka "Ducky") Summary: At a gathering in london, hosted by Mister Laurence, Laurie gets drunk & the reader is forced to take care of him. While assisting him, Laurie attempts to propose, & the reader is everything but happy word count: 3.8k Warnings: ANGST, literally that's it just angst, also a lot of self doubt from reader

This story is a snippet from my longer Laurie x reader story, Foolish, Honest Love on ao3. If you want to know what happens next, you'll find out there ;P

Also, I am taking requests for Laurie x reader drabbles/minifics in my asks!!! :)

STORY STARTS UNDER THE PAGE BREAK

To say one’s heart & mind works separately is a lie because the heart is an organ that does not think, nor does it hold any greater understanding of what it is. It has no consciousness, yet is unrightfully given the capability to think & know. Nobody truly thinks with their heart or their throat or their liver or their pancreas. When someone says “thinking with their heart” or “thinking with their mind”, they mean thinking with their intuition or their rationality, or thinking with logic or emotion. They create a great divide in thought that, in all honesty, has & will never exist. A black & white. A right & wrong. A sky & sea. Existing between all of these concepts is a great trench, a lack of understanding, that was dug by the hands of men. 

In thinking with her heart, the middle March finds it best to avoid Laurie, &, in thinking with her head, she agrees with her heart. All of this to say, for the past couple of days, she’s both missed & feared the sight of his face. It’s easy to grow distant from someone when there’s no possible way to close said distance, but, when you’re staying in the same residence per the request of his grandfather, it’s much harder to remain distant, both in a literal & metaphysical sense.

Within the lounge, where she resides now, Miss March distances herself from the greater commotion of the gathering, in the dining hall, without being fully disconnected, like a hand is to the torso. The walls are dressed in a tender maroon wallpaper with an eloquent & detailed moulding of marble & gold, replicating greek columns, which act as a trim that runs across the ceilings. She shares the chaise lounge with other guests as they squeeze next to each other, and their skirts overlap like incoming tides crossing over one another. She’s unsure if she's become overwhelmed by all the stimulus or simply unable to sense anything. The air doesn’t carry any distinct scent. Oddly, the space around her smells of the sound of bustling people & drinks swishing in crystalline glasses. Around her is noise & people, & all of her senses confirm that truth in a monotone wave.  Nursing an empty glass, which she had thrown the contents of into a houseplant & plans to hold for the rest of the evening, she sits within conversation between several men & women, an intellectual hive of people that act more like displays for their attire then beings with bones & blood. For them, knowledge is a sport. It’s a trinket to place on your coffee table to try & impress your inlaws. It’s an accessory to tout & best acknowledge in thoughtful hums & inquisitive gasps. 

A man in a matching set of birdseye patterned, taupe slacks & waist drones on about the recent unification of Germany. While Miss March does find the subject, itself, interesting, she can’t seem to hold intrigue in the conversation. Something about the smoke & the long days warping together in England has led her to misplace the inquisitiveness of the young girl who dreamed of moving to Europe & leaving behind the dreariness of subordinate domesticity. While, with age, she’s gained the emotional intellect necessary to process her emotions beyond simply scraping the shallow tide with her toes, she’s also gained the awareness that, oftentimes, the act of digesting her emotions is tiring. She’s learned that the energy used toward emotions is better spent producing something tangible & of worth. 

Luckily for her, Laurie’s grandfather is a man in the know, which means he knew several associates with daughters of varying ages with varying tastes in clothes who were more than happy to lend a dress to a young lady. Over her crinoline skirt & bodice, a dress in a sweet champagne shade is draped across her. The lacy trim, not wanting to melt into the dress, itself, is a muted purple, almost a grey, that wraps around her puff sleeves & the edges of the champagne tier, with a silk white skirt with a lavender sheen peeks out from underneath. Nothing about the dress is loud. She feels much more at home in the fabric, especially after walking around in the daunting mauve dress like a living, breathing cake topper, a piece of decor for her employer to flaunt. For the first time since leaving New England & Meg & Hannah’s trusted fingers, she’d had her hair done by someone other than her family’s servant. The trusted maid of Mister Laurence had offered & promised to not pull too hard on the March’s hair. As the maid braided & pinned her hair, the middle March almost cried. However, it wasn’t due to any pain inflicted on her scalp, as the maid’s touch was tentative & gentle. It was the simple act of being touched & cared for, a touch Miss March had been subconsciously craving for since leaving her home. A touch she had forgotten until reuniting with Laurie in the crowded foyer. 

Touching her shoulder, a soft hand brushes her & whispers a polite ask for her attention. She flutters her eyelashes, shaking off the weight of the dust that had collected on them, &, with the help of the welcomed touch, swims out of the mental fog she had sunk herself into. Her eyes flitter up & meet with the warm sight of Mister Laurence gazing back at her. Whether the strong scent of candle wax, lingering dust on velvet carpets, & forest breeze eminates from him or the memories of his manor in New England that she spent odd mornings & afternoons in, she’s unsure of. However, it’s another reminder of the young girl she tried to comfort & wish goodbye to before leaving for Lancashire.

“Pardon my forwardness, but, Miss March, I must ask you to join me for a brief moment. I do hate to take away from such wonderful company,” Mister Laurence requests, playing the role of the man wise beyond his years more gracefully than anyone Miss March has ever seen. With a curt nod, not even bothering to bid adieu to the people in the room, she lets curiosity lead her as she rises to her feet & wraps her arms around Mister Laurence’s. Ushering her out of the room at the exact speed that is swift without being suspicious, Mister Laurence guides the young lady to a hallway with no prying eyes or wandering ears. His gaze does not hold the anger of a great man who is weighed down by the hubris of those around him, but in his eyes is something deeply paternal & saddened. Around him, an umber waistcoat & slacks with a herringbone pattern remind her more of a bear then a man of business & wealth. However, her judgement may be heavily clouded from growing up under his watchful eye. While his hair used to be a soft salt & pepper, it has faded to a faint white & grey like the shadow of a tree painted on fresh snow during a cloudy evening. For most, with age comes wrinkles that hide within them their growing envy for the youth that’s being wasted on careless & stupid adolescents. Mister Laurence’s wrinkles are like the rings of a tree, lines that prove that he has lived & seen. They’re a promise that, if one is to ask, he will tell the story preserved in every smile line & crow’s foot. Bending down so his lips hover around her ear, she’s immediately washed in the same sincerity that soaks his demeanour.

“Y/N,” he calls her by her first name, a telltale sign of loyalty & unease from the man, “I do hate to put this upon your shoulders, but my grandson is acting aloof-”.

“In what sense?” she interrupts in the classic March fashion, &, used to this speech pattern, he continues speaking over her. 

“And, while I don’t wish to make you pay for his poor decisions, I have an important associate that I do need to impress,” he explains to her as his hand returns to her shoulder, “And you and I are both well aware that no servant is paid well enough to have to deal with my grandson’s… ”

“Stubbornness?”

“...Tenacity.”

Both finish his sentence at the same time & share a gaze that communicates that neither are completely wrong with their wording. Nodding his head to agree with her, he looks away at the hall ahead. No paternal figure wants to admit their children’s faults. To say a truth is to make it known, but to admit a truth makes it tangible. She can feel the glass ball that rolls up & down his throat, ever so often bobbing at the opening to his stomach. Hiding beneath his heavy wool morning coat, his shoulders tense while trying to protect the rest of his body.

“A servant caught him with several other young women & clearly inebriated,” he reveals to her, & the edges of his lips quiver & twitch as they are tugged by invisible strings into a frown. His words dig a hole into her chest. All that remains is her skin, which caves in & sags where her sternum once was. It leaves a tingling sensation where her muscles & bones used to rest. She feels that Mister Laurence is speaking of a different grandson, which she has never met. What happened to the young boy who would treat her childish fears with utmost sincerity? What happened to the boy who made pinky promises seem like the most honourable pacts a man could make? What monster, what man had stolen the skin from him & now wears it as a costume? 

“I’ll confess. I’m unsure of where I went wrong with him,” Mister Laurence slips out between hushed lips, telling his secret to the wind & Miss March. Pausing to swallow his words, she furrows her brows & purses her lips. Swimming in her mind, she can’t think of any words that can comfort him in this moment of vulnerability. So, rather than speaking, she wraps her arms around the older man & hugs him tightly. Surprise washes him over as she squeezes his ribcage tightly, &, for a moment, he freezes as his eyes dart around to try & catch leering gazes peaking around the corner. But they are hidden in the inky shadows of the hallway. With a long exhale, Mister Laurence allows his tension to escape, & he swallows her in his embrace.. 

“You worry about business, and I’ll worry about Laurie,” she comforts him while pulling away, pausing to fix his bowtie, “He’s very lucky to have a grandfather that’s as kind and loving as you.” Mister Laurence smiles at her reminder as the rosy glow on his cheeks alights the hallway for a moment. Each breath they take in the space that they share feels like it fills each corner of their lungs. Nodding to her, a silent show of gratitude, he leads her to an oak door which lays slightly ajar. Holding the nob, he turns back to her before speaking.

“Thank you for your assistance. He’s in here,” Mister Laurence informs her, & he slowly swings the door open. Immediately, the souring scent of wine hits her face, &, as an instinct, her nose scrunches up & a grimace stains her lips. Splayed out on a couch, dishevelled & basking in his own ruin, she sees more of a strange, unfamiliar man than the boy that she knew. She sees a man that will grow to be discontent with his wife, yet who stays for the kids. A man who never really loved his children but is patiently waiting for the fulfilment that comes from acting in the role that society has told him to. A man who will never be fulfilled. A man that has learned that he must settle for what he has, quietly & miserably. A miniscule part of Miss March relishes at the idea that he’d have to learn how cruel the impartial hand of life can be, but the rest of her is well aware that Laurie will never know “enough”. He’d love his wife, even if she loved another man. He’d work to provide for his kids, &, if the wife was never around, he’d raise them all on his own. He’d move mountains to try to find the better side of “enough”. Laurie will love & love because that is Laurie’s nature. He loves wine & women. He loves trekking through forests & acting a fool, even in public spaces. He loves to engage in conversation while in the company of the March sisters, where no sentence is ever finished & nothing is ever truly said but the quiet “I love you” that rattles around in the pauses between words for a quick draw of breath. Laurie loves Jo. Laurie will continue to love, & love will truly be the cause of his death. Yet, Laurie will find a way to love the silent & cold hand of what lies beyond in a way that no person has ever done before. Miss March cannot even entertain the idea of Laurie living a life that is just “enough” because, to her, his company is more than enough. It is good. It is plenty.

That same man has tossed away his vermillion silk tie & waistcoat, leaving him in a starch white shirt that’s a third of the way unbuttoned & hastily tucked into raven black slacks. Closing the door behind her, the click of the door knob alerts him to her presence. However, his verdant eyes don’t move to meet her as he stares through strands of his messy chocolate hair & up at the silver ring that he often displays on his pointer finger. 

“Are you here to scold me, oh my dear mother?” He asks to the wind, acknowledging her existence. Miss March inhales deeply as the beating of her heart starts to drown out the sound of her breath. Clasping her hands together, she tentatively begins to make her way over to the cobalt ottoman that rests near the matching couch. The room is a demure periwinkle with small etchings of leaves adding a splash of muted emerald to the room.

“No, Laurie. Your grandfather asked me to keep you company,” she tries to ease his nerves as she inches closer.

“No, he told you to keep me away from the guests as I am his greatest failure,” Laurie shoots up at her words, sitting up far too fast for his drunken mind to handle. A warbling groan of pain slips out of his mouth as he rakes his fingers through his hair & clutches his throbbing head. At the sight of his agony, Miss March rushes to him &, readjusting his legs, sits on the edge of the couch cushion, right in front of him. With a tender touch, she gently wraps her fingers around his wrists & rubs small circles with her thumb.

“Oh, shush, you’re as much of a failure as I am a dancer,” She teases him with a sympathetic smile. At her words, a small & raspy chuckle escapes his lips &, tilting his head, his celadon eyes, in which the fields of Elysium hide, gaze up at her. Hiding beneath a smoke of anger, she’s able to see the young boy that she grew up with. The young boy that she once fell in love with. He’s scared & small & all the things a child is never allowed to be. 

In this moment, as much as she despises it, she knows she must admit her faults to him & ask for forgiveness. She was cruel & unjust for bringing up Jo with the intent of spitting in his face. She hurt him with the intention of leaving a mark, & she succeeded in doing so. If he doesn’t ever forgive her, she’ll grow to understand. It won’t be an easy process, but loving Laurie has never been anything close to easy. Taking a deep breath, she shoves the racing thoughts out of her vision & looks him in the eyes.

“I apologise for what I said in the alley, concerning your feelings for Jo. I shouldn’t’ve ever used them to hurt you,” she apologises quickly, &, after speaking, immediately purses her lips together & stares at him. She waits for him to scream. To yell at her to get out. To say he hates her & never wants to see her again. To tell her he always hated her. That he only tolerated her for Jo. To say she’s stupid. She’s vile. She’s not worth Jo or Meg or Beth or Amy’s time. She waits for him to tell her the truth she’s been too scared to say to herself aloud. She waits & waits until, finally, his lips part, & he draws a quick breath.

“It’s alright. I was being mean too, and I, truly, do owe you many apologies, as well, ” he replies with a thin smile, replaying the events in his head. Ducky’s stomach squeezes as relief floods her system, & she sharply inhales while attempting to keep some kind of composure. A tight smile graces her features, slipping past her facade of propriety & decorum. 

“I’ve been spending this past year, & some odd months, wallowing in my own melancholy, but,” Laurie pauses for a moment, slouching forward so his eyes are level with Ducky’s, “but I cannot waste away my life being miserable. If money is truly of the highest concern, then marry me.” His words grab her by the neck, shove their long, spindly fingers down her throat, wrench the breath from her lungs, & pry the air out of her. Her mouth falls agape as she struggles to comb through & fully understand what he’s said.

“Laurie, I refuse-”

“You won’t have to work, nor do you have to love me, & your family will be provided for: Beth, Amy, Marmee, everyone,” he prattles on, afraid of the nearing rejection that comes when he stops to breathe. Ducky can’t hear anything other than her own heartbeat & what, to her, sounds like the faint whisper of Laurie’s voice. She can’t even hear herself think.

“You’ll be happy, I promise. Everyday I will spend in honest devotion to your happiness,” he’s breathless as he finishes his speech, &, feeling the walls begin to collapse in on her, Ducky jumps to her feet. Rushing back & forth, in front of her very eyes, are countless memories of Jo & Laurie, of the way it’s always been. Jo loves her work. Laurie loves Jo. Ducky was left to love the footprints Laurie had left while chasing after Jo. 

“Laurie, I, as a woman, must either enter a marriage for security or for love,” she whispers out as her arms wrap around her waist, squeezing her sides tightly, “while you can marry for any reason under the sun, and I will not be an accomplice in allowing you to waste that privilege.” The room grows smaller, the air between them thinner. It’s hard to breathe & her vision becomes a swirl of blues & greens with a spotty pillar of white & black wiggling around in the centre. Laurie stops, & Ducky stops. Neither move. Neither speak. Neither breathe. The walls stop moving, & everything around them fades into their shadows. They are a boy & a girl. A lady & a man, all grown up & yet the exact same as they were the day that they met. While his previous proclamations were loud & steady, the words he speaks next are a promise meant only for his lips & the spirits that hide in peoples’ breaths. 

“But I can give you both, love and security, if you’d allow me. I’ll inherit my grandfather’s wealth, and we could be happy, all of us.”

Clear on his face is the same sincerity that he’s gifted to her in every moment of embarrassment & shame. His eyes stay glued to hers. After waiting for years for him to say these words to her, she can’t help but feel his admittance is fake. That maybe his words are meant for someone smarter, braver, older, & better then she is. His words are meant for Jo.

“No, no, you don’t get to, this isn’t right,” she bites back, walking backwards & grasping for the door knob yet only finding the air between her fingers, “Stop it, Laurie, please.”. He follows her, &, in his drunken state, collides with the furniture, sending his body awry. 

“Yes, yes I can, and we both know it to be true,” he tries to correct her as he raises his hands to grip her forearms. Her shoulders immediately tense at his touch. His fingers crinkle the poofy champagne fabric that delicately floats around her skin.

“You’re acting a fool, Laurie-”

“I can, I swear on my life Y/N, I am able and I am willing and, and content to do so.”

 “-I won’t allow it, I simply cannot,” she continues to ramble on, & her finger tips brush against the cool metal of the doorknob. Laurie opens his mouth to rebuke her statement, but, before he can, her palm flies up & presses against his lips. Covering his mouth with her hand, she shakes her head as her eyes gleam with tears.

“Please, stop. It hurts, Laurie. Please, Laurie, you’re hurting me,” she pleads to him as her fingers curl around the door knob, “I cannot do it. You broke my heart once already. Is that not enough for you?” 

To watch the boy she admires fall in love with her sister, who she’s loved since the dawn of time, was a constant, real ache that left her sobbing into Beth’s chest as she begged Meg to help her & relieve her of the pain, which was an impossible task. After the middle March had left for Europe & caught word of Jo’s rejection in a letter from Beth, she had a heavy heart knowing that the two people who were connected at the hip for all of her adolescence had now grown cold & distant. It was as if she’d heard that the moon no longer followed the sun, leaving the night cold & bleak. All she has done her entire life is labour & hurt for those she loves without question or complaint. However, she cannot look Laurie in the eyes as he slurs out ideas that would’ve sent her younger self spinning & giggling with a maddening joy. She cannot withstand that pain for him. She doesn’t feel happy or sad. Nor is she angry or scared. All that she can feel is the heavy pounding of her heart & a dull ache emanating through her. The pain swallows her mind, &, while her body still remains, Ducky has clearly fled far from the room. She’s racing down the streets in her dress, seeing how far her legs will take her. 

She yanks the door open just before he can reply & heaves her body through, slamming the door shut after her. Leaning her weight against the slab of carved & varnished oak, a few tears trickle down her cheek as she chokes back a sob, not wanting to alert any guests nearby. In her mind, she’s already ran all the way back to New England. There, back in her home, she lies, hiding her tears in Beth’s dress, as her sisters practically cocoon her, protecting her & the fire from the harsh reality of the world that waits outside their loving embrace & on the other side of the oak door. 

i told you it's literally & only just angst... sorry. please like & repost :)

[lunatiqez]

“INTO THE NEW YEAR” — Theodore “Laurie” x March Sister!Reader

IN WHICH . . . you and laurie have a mutual pining, but it is unknown to one another until he invites you to a walk on New Year’s Eve.

NOTES . . . i need to get back into writing, so what better way to do it than my hyperfixation ?! i love timothee and i love laurie sm. anyways, you can defffff see my meg bias in this fic. she deserves the world. happy new years!!!! heres to a great one 🍾.

WORDCOUNT . . . 1.9k

THANK YOU TO MY LOVES @lu-vin-it & @lemkay-luminary FOR PROOFREADING!!!! I LOVE MY BEST FRIENDS SO MUCH!!

“No one ever loved anything quite as much as you do,” Marmee would say as she caressed your cheekbone, lulling you to sleep. You were 7 then, and you had just got done crying because you weren’t allowed to keep a baby bunny you had found in the garden.

Everyone had always called you ‘peach,’ reminiscent of the fact that peaches were sweet and soft— just like you. You were pretty sure your childhood friend, Laurie, was the one to start it, but Amy claims it was her idea. You were the only March sister with a nickname that isn’t some variant of your real name.

“Peach!” Marmee called from the kitchen. You buried your head under your pillow, as you were too tired to respond to your mother.

“Peach!” she called again. You still didn’t respond.

“Y/N March!” finally shouted the woman, sounding irritated. You shot up and groaned.

“Coming!” You yelled back, the sudden use of your voice making your head hurt. You grumbled some more as you tossed the covers aside and dragged yourself down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“What?” You asked, yawning, “Why call me down so early?”

“It’s nearly 10, Peach, we let you sleep in.” Meg responded, as she chuckled to herself. You whined and sat down beside Meg. Marmee placed your plate in front of you and you all began eating. As you all conversed and enjoyed your breakfast, there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” Amy said as she practically jumped out of her chair and sped to the door. She opened it with a smile. You all wondered who it was until Amy spoke again.

“Laurie!” your sister cheered, giggling as a familiar voice greeted her.

“Hey, Amy! How are you?” Laurie asked her, bringing her into a hug and as he kissed her cheek kindly. You smiled at the boy’s presence. Truth be told, you had the slightest—no, biggest— crush on him. Not that you had ever told anyone.

“Oh, I’m great Laurie! How are you? It’s almost New Year’s!” Amy bombarded Laurie with words as he chuckled and responded to her chats. Then, she turned back to the dinner table.

“Marmee, can Laurie come in? Please?? We’re almost done eating anyhow!”

“I suppose, but only if you girls help clean the house afterwards.” Marmee agreed as she cut into a piece of sausage on her plate. Amy grabbed Laurie by his hand and led him into the living room.

The two of you shared a grin as you stood up to greet him and brought him into a hug. He held you tight against him, making you both snicker. He smelt of a musky, cedar-like scent that drew you in. It made you stick your face into the crook of his neck.

“Let’s go on a walk tonight, huh Peach? For the New Year?” he suggested. You pulled out of the hug, your hands still rested on the boy’s shoulders. You looked towards Marmee for her approval. She thought for a moment and nodded slightly.

“Can I come??” Asked Amy, Jo answered with a quick ‘no,’ saving you the trouble of having to reject your younger sister. Amy stared at you as she pouted. All you did was shrug.

“Sorry, Amy. Maybe next time?” You gave her a half-hearted smile as she slouched. Then, you turned your attention back to Laurie.

“11 tonight?” You nodded.

Laurence then stayed for a while longer, he talked to all the girls until around noon. When the boy left, you all went upstairs to your room. Amy and Jo began their usual passive-aggressive arguments and Meg sat on your bed and crossed her legs. She rested her hands on her knee and gave you a certain look. A look that she would only give you if she knew something was up.

“What?” you asked her innocently.

“You know what,” she said, elongating the “o” in “know”.

“No, I don’t know what. What are you looking at me for?” You repeated yourself. Meg rolled her eyes and smirked.

“Laurie? A walk? On New Year’s Eve?”

“..Yeah? So what?”

“So, it’s clear that he likes you!” By this time, the other girls had stopped bickering and were listening to the conversation.

You furrowed your brow. “No, no. Laurie sees us as friends, and friends only. That’s all. Just friends. Nothing more.”

“Oh come on, Y/N! Did you see the way he looked at you?” Meg exclaimed, you looked around to your other sisters for support.

“It did seem a little romantic,” Beth chimed in. “Even Marmee thought so.”

“Unfortunately, I have to agree with Beth.” Jo said, as she placed her hands on her hips and leaned her weight onto one foot. “It was— interesting. Seeing you two interact. There was definitely some tension.”

“But—“

“I don’t see it.” Amy interrupted, her arms crossed.

“Please, Amy,” Meg said, getting her to stop before she even started. Amy rolled her eyes and walked around the room, now uninterested.

“Y/N, he likes you! A lot!” Beth said.You continued to shake your head.

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed you, either. We know you like him too.” Jo sat down beside Meg and leaned towards you.

“What?!” You exclaimed, as you tried not to be so obvious.

“Mhm, we saw that hug. Don’t even attempt to deny it!”

“I—“ You started, but you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Have I really been that obvious?” You asked. Your sisters shared a look that made your mouth gape.

“Really?! I thought I was being discreet!”

“It’s not that big of a problem, Peach,” Meg assured you. “I mean, it’s about time you find a man that interests you..” She said with a slightly cheeky smile.

The five of you talked for a few hours more and went on with your day, until it was 10PM and Meg decided you needed to get ready.

She brought out your nicest evening dress, as she took her time to iron it carefully. Jo insisted on fixing your hair, but you refused due to the ‘Meg Incident’ in which Jo fried Meg’s hair clean off in an attempt to curl it. 10 minutes before a soirée.

Finally, by the time you were done, it was 10:45 and you sat on the couch, anxious as you waited for the arrival of Laurie. It was another 10 minutes before he knocked on the door. You looked at Meg and she nodded reassuringly. Then, you stood up and walked to the door. You opened it and there was Laurie, looking as handsome as ever. He handed you a bouquet of gorgeous flowers, consisting of your daisies, petunias, daffodils, and other bright colored flowers

“Oh, Laurie!” You gasped at the beautiful assortment. “Thank you! I love them!” You brought him into a hug, smiling widely.

“I knew you would. I remembered how you said that you liked these.” He chuckled nervously. You looked back at Meg, who gave you an “I told you so” look.

“Well, we should get going.” Laurie said. The two of you said your goodbyes and walked out the door.

When you got outside, you looked at each other and giggled like children. You walked in silence for a while, too nervous to say anything. You had a volcano of butterflies in your stomach ready to erupt at any moment.

Laurie led you to a quiet, peaceful spot and the two of you sat down by a small stream surrounded by gorgeous willow trees. Laurie laid on his back in the middle of the trees, a perfect view of the sky showed. You laid next to him and placed the flowers delicately aside. The two of you talked before silence fell again. It wasn’t awkward, though. It was a nice, comforting silence.

“It’s clear out tonight,” said Laurie, as he looked up at the bright stars. You followed his gaze towards the sky.

“I love stars, they’re so beautiful.” you said with a dreamy sigh. Laurie looked at you with a fond glint in his eye and smiled.

“Kind of like you.” He tried to say confidently, the darkness of the night thankfully masking his pink cheeks. You felt the butterflies finally explode as you tried to find something to say.

“The stars? Like me?” is all you could utter out, and it sounded more rude out loud than it did in your head. “I mean— thank you, Laurie. That’s really nice.” You kept your eyes glued to the sky, as you avoided any sort of contact.

“Of course.” Laurie said. He sounded slightly defeated, as if he hoped to hear something more out of you.

“Laurie, what time is it?” You asked him. He pulled a pocket watch from his vest pocket and squinted, letting his eyes adjust in the darkness.

“11:56,” He replied. “Almost New Year’s.”

“Really? It’s been that long already?” You asked him, as you sat up. He sat up with you. The two of you were parallel to each other with your knees tucked into your chests.

“Y/N, what are your plans for the future?” He asked you.

“Um, well..” You thought for a moment. “I want to move to the East Coast. Where it rains a lot. I want to raise a family and have a little cottage with a horse or three. Maybe a dog. I just want a family, I think. What about you? What do you want for your future?” Laurie paused.

“I don’t care where I am in my future. As long as…” He stopped, confusing you. You rested your chin on your knees and waited for him to continue. “As long as I’m with you, Y/N.”

“What?” You asked quietly, feeling your cheeks and ears burned in delightful shock.

“I said I want you in my future. All I want is you. All I’ve wanted is you, Peach.”

“Laurie.. I—“ He unintentionally cut you off.

“It’s killing me how bad I’ve wanted to tell you this.” He reaches for your hand and holds it. “I love you so much Y/N. I waited and I never complained because— because I want you to love me, Y/N. We can live out your future and I’ll do anything and everything in my power to make sure we live happy, and we can have the family you want, and I’ll get your horses and your dog and—“

“Laurie! Laurie..” You stopped him from rambling on, making sure he paid attention to you. “Laurie, I love you, too. I’ve loved you for a long, long, long time. I just— I thought you saw me as a friend. I thought you saw me like you did Meg— I never thought you could ever love me.”

Laurie sighed in relief and cupped your face in one hand. “I have always loved you, Y/N.”

Your eyes found each other in the dark and you pressed your foreheads together before you kissed each other gently. The kiss slowly got more passionate, more longing. When you pulled away, Laurie checked his watch again. It was 12:00AM.

He chuckled and squeezed your hand. “It’s 12. We kissed into the New Year.” You laughed as you squeezed his hand back.

“Did you really mean what you said? About the horses and the dog?” You asked Laurie with a smile.

“I guess I need to keep that promise, now, huh?”

“You definitely have to keep that promise now.”

[anxiouswriter0]

i don't care | Laurie Laurence

════════════════════════════════════════════

Inside one of the rooms of the march residence lay the feverish body of one of the sisters, to be specific, (y/n) March.

the girl might have contracted an illness due to the strain she had been under in recent days. for a moment, her sisters and mother were terrified that perhaps (y/n) had contracted scarlet fever, but luckily that wasn't the case. although she was taken care of by everyone, (y/n) didn't agree with being looked after. it's not that she was stubborn (or maybe she was), she just didn't want her sisters to stop attending to their activities to take care of her.

lying on the bed with both arms behind her head, resting on the pillow, and with a thick blanket covering her from the waist down.

trying to rest for the umpteenth time. but this time (y/n) managed to close her eyes completely.

but suddenly, soft knocks sounded behind the door. (y/n) reluctantly turned her head towards the door. as no one entered or even asked, she rolled her eyes, closed them again, but... the knocks sounded again.

—Jo, if it's you, don't worry, I'm fine, okay? —(y/n) spoke hoarsely.

no one responded.

—Jo? —(y/n) asked without even looking, as she didn't even have her eyes open due to the exhaustion she was feeling.

the sound of the door being opened, along with the echo of boots resonating on the wooden floorboards, filled the room. the small "creak" of the door closing gently was all that could be heard, as if the person entering the room wanted to make as little noise as possible, but the sound of their boots on the wood gave them away. (y/n), who still had her eyes closed, could hear every step, softly echoing in the room, approaching. Until at one moment, they stopped, and (y/n) felt the weight of someone sitting down beside her bed.

opening her eyes slightly and trying to visualize who it was, although at first everything seemed blurry, (y/n) gradually began to recognize the facial features of that person.

—Laurie? —she asked, astonished, as the person smiled gently.

—What are you doing here? —she asked, confused, but with a noticeable discreet smile.

—Jo told me you were in bed, so since everyone had their turn to visit you, I felt like now it was my turn to do so, —Laurie joked, eliciting a small smile from (y/n).

—But putting that aside, how are you feeling? —he asked, changing the subject.

—Do you really want to know? —(y/n) asked, as Laurie nodded in response.

—Terribly indebted to them, —(y/n) blurted out, making Laurie laugh. —You should have seen them coming in and out of the room. I couldn't sleep with the sound of their shoes echoing on the floor, the door opening and closing, and please don't make me remember the sound of their desperate voices. for a moment, I felt like I was dying, —(h/c) laughed, while feeling Laurie rub her hand over the arm that was extended behind (y/n)'s head..

—But amidst all the chaos you're telling me, I see that you're doing well, —he said, rested her hand on the other end of the bed, beside the girl's body.

—Tell my sisters, —said (y/n), placing her arm over her eyes.

at that moment, a small silence filled the room, but oddly enough, it wasn't uncomfortable as some might have expected.

however, that silence and atmosphere were interrupted when (y/n) felt fingers glide over her cheek, the thumb tracing her cheekbone delicately. this caught (y/n)'s attention, causing her to remove her arm from her eyes.

—What are you doing?— she asked

—I'm looking at you, —Laurie joked.

—How silly, —(y/n) murmured, although she regretted it a bit when she noticed Laurie's sudden serious expression, with his head pointing towards the ground. With some effort, she managed to sit up at least, placing her hand on Laurie's shoulder to get his attention. —I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...—

—Don't worry, —Laurie interrupted, —it's not that —he murmured softly at the end.

—Then what is it? —(y/n) asked, confused.

with that, Laurie let out a long sigh that (y/n) could hear. she watched as he turned his gaze towards her. suddenly, Laurie shifted on the bed and slowly extended his hands, taking (y/n)'s hands in his. this gesture made (y/n) nervous due to Laurie's sudden actions.

—(y/n)...— he began, but the realization dawned on (y/n) about what Laurie might say.

—Laurie, no... don't do it, —interrupted with a disappointed voice, pulling her hands away from his.

—What? Why? —Laurie murmured, trying to take (y/n)'s hands again, but she kept them out of his reach.

—Because I know you love Jo, —(y/n) affirmed, noticing Laurie's surprised expression. —I know, —she murmured at the end.

(y/n) turned her gaze away, avoiding Laurie's eyes, while all he did was take the girl's hand again.

—Please, (y/n), please listen —Laurie murmured as he gently caressed her hand. —You're right, I love Jo... but the love I feel for you is different, —he affirmed with determination. With his other hand, he gently held (y/n)'s chin, turning it so their gazes met.

laurie noticed how tiny tears streamed down (y/n)'s cheek. tenderly, he slid his thumb over her eyes, wiping away every trace of sadness he found.

—I mean it, —he murmured. —Why don't you believe me?—

(y/n) shook her head.

—I don't know, —she said between sobs.

—then let me show you. Let me show you that I'm serious, —he murmured, moving closer to she, their faces just inches apart.

laurie, being so close, could feel the warmth emanating from her. he could have joked that perhaps was embarrassed by the moment, but he chose to remain silent, not wanting to ruin the moment.

laurie tenderly held (y/n)'s face in his hands and began to kiss her gently. he started on her cheek, then moved up to her temple and placed another kiss, moving on to her forehead and then to the other cheek. as he did so, he noticed (y/n) starting to giggle. emboldened by the joy of the moment, laurie ventured to give her a sudden kiss on the tip of her nose, eliciting even more laughter and a warm feeling in his heart.

however, at one point, laurie stopped, fixing his gaze on a place he hadn't kissed yet.

(y/n) noticed and warned him.

—If you get sick, Laurie, I'm not going to take care of you —she said, staying just inches away from him.

laurie could only smile as he let his lips meet hers. In that moment, it didn't matter if he couldn't get up tomorrow. All that mattered to him in that moment was what they were sharing.

they both pulled away in search of air, although they kept their foreheads together. In that small space between them, the rapid beating of their hearts resonate like a shared echo of intense emotions.

—i don't care —murmured laurie.

════════════════════════════════════════════

↳ Note: I made this little one-shot a long time ago and I never could finish it, I always had it as a draft. Also, I saw that the theme of the 'little women' had already gone out of style. So, I didn't want to upload it.now i want to cry ↳ p.s: I just noticed that this has a lot of (y/n) and a lot of Laurie. :D I'll try to improve and not to put so much (y/n).

[cauliflowertree]

laurie laurence—all i want to say is i love you.

laurie laurence x fem!march!reader

summary: romance novel confessions.

word count: 1.1k

fanfic no. 043.

laurie laurence always had a pleasant time with the march sisters—he considered them family, if he could so bold as to say so. but as he grew older, the other sisters began to notice a slight show of favouritism for the third sister, y/n. soft but lively in temperament, she seemed his perfect match. and they didn’t mind so much, for laurie was still very attentive to them, and they observed they would make a very fine couple should they choose to be.

he hadn’t thought he was quite so obvious with his silent affections, but he could not deny his countenance greatly altered when with her, though often he did not realise unless it was teasingly pointed out by someone else who had observed this alteration. let them tease, he thought, it mattered not to him.

he had quietly pined after the favourited sister for many months now, elongated, he felt, by the winter season which seemed to last many weeks longer than usual, which often forced him back home in the early evenings where his lack of company was greatly felt by y/n and the other march sisters.

but when summer finally absorbed spring’s showers, he was greeted with the adoring sight of y/n reading novels in her garden once more. from his window he could see her quite clearly, often getting distracted from his studies which could infuriate poor mr. brooke. laurie was never the most attentive nor obedient student, which was only exacerbated by this consuming infatuation he could not shake, nor did he want to.

as much as his love for y/n tormented him, it was the reason he found himself so eager to greet the day in the early mornings, the cause many of his smiles and happy moments. but as much as this was true, she was also the cause of many sleepless nights, reprimands from his tutor and grandfather for not paying attention and confusion in his life.

despite this uncertainly imposed upon him, as soon as his classes had ended for the day, he headed to the march household—he could wait no longer to tell y/n the truth about how he felt; the uncertainty must come to an end.

meanwhile, oblivious to the plan laurie was hatching, you basked in the soft sunlight while reading a romance novel you’d bought from town with all the money you’d saved up recently. it was a delightful read, though you were nearing the end already, having only started reading it a day or so ago.

“you pierce my soul. i am half agony, half hope,” you read aloud, feeling your heart pound in your chest, wondering what those words would sound like coming from laurie’s lips.

theodore laurence had a hold of your heart from the day you’d met, and thus far, he had not relinquished his grip for a moment. you were a little too shy to admit your fondness for the boy, but would accept in a heartbeat if he were to confess he felt the same way first. it was a difficult predicament, for the dread came in knowing there was a chance you would never know if you did not ask.

“‘would you, in short, have renewed the engagement then?’ — ‘would i!’ was all her answer; but the accent was decisive enough,’” you continued to read, feeling the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you the confession upon the pages unravelled.

“‘good god!’ he cried. ‘you would!’”

so enraptured in your novel, you hadn’t noticed laurie creeping up on you from your garden gate, smiling gently as he watched and listened to you read another novel from your extensive collection.

“what are you reading this time?” asked laurie when he was close enough.

“oh! laurie, you startled me,” you laughed, clutching your chest.

“i apologise, fair maiden,” he bowed in jest. “is it shakespeare’s sonnets again?” he asked, nodding to the book in your hand.

“not this time, the author is a woman from england,” you replied, elated with the knowledge it was a woman’s words you were devouring page by page.

“is it a novel?”

“yes, a romance novel,” you sighed happily. “it is fast becoming one of my favourites. oh, laurie, it’s utterly splendid!”

laurie sat beside you in the grass, fiddling with the green blades beside his feet. he listened to you talk fondly of this new novel you had fallen in love with, talking endlessly of some anne elliot and a captain wentworth.

“what is it?” you asked suddenly, feeling very self conscious of the intense stare from laurie’s eyes and his boundless silence.

“i’m in love with you,” he whispered without hesitation through a smile, almost in disbelief that the words had left his lips so boldly.

“what?” you scoffed, for such a declaration was not easily comprehended in the circumstances in which he had revealed it to you.

“all the while i have known you, i have been in love with you,” replied laurie, feeding off the courage he had unwittingly found. “i do not care that you talk too much, nor that you stay up too late reading by the dwindling candle light. i love that your hair is unkempt and that as soon as someone pays you a compliment you become bashful. i could not think of someone better to love. truly, i could love no one else but you.”

it was as if you were in a romance novel of your own, and the protagonist’s love interest was finally admitting his feelings in the last chapter of the book, letting its readers breathe a sigh of relief alongside their protagonist who had been waiting just as long to hear the words finally spoken.

“have i upset you?” asked laurie when you did not respond.

“no!” you cried. “you have only surprised me,” you laughed. “do you truly mean it, laurie!?”

“of course i mean it, dear y/n,” came his gentle response, which elicited a bright grin stretching across your lips as you tossed your novel to the ground, throwing yourself against laurie.

“i have been in love with you all this time too,” you revealed, hovering over his lips and revelling in the sensation of his arms snaking around your waist and over your back.

laurie could not speak, only match your joyous smile as he let the words you had spoken sink into his heart, down to the very bottom where he endeavoured to hold them forever.

he wetted his lips, lifting his chin up cautiously, to which you matched his actions before pressing your lips to his delicately—a chaste first kiss that neither of you wished would end. but you had all the time in the world for the number to grow and grow beyond count.

requested by anonymous.

🏷 @sw34terw34ther @imabee-oralizard @mad-elia @velvetcloxds @natashxromanovf @ell0ra-br3kk3r @uwiuwi @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @krishavania @innerloverpainter @locke-writes

[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 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 since then, as well as basically everything that happened over Christmas, 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 into 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.

[iridescentprose]

A Year—Laurie Laurence x fem! reader

summary; in which you return to your hometown after a year and run into Laurie at a social event; no warnings—just dramatic fluff.

The sea of flowing dresses and men in buttoned down shirts started to make you feel nauseous. But the wave of adrenaline that coursed through your veins as the music swelled was enough to keep you on the dance floor. You had missed this about your hometown—the people, the nightly dance socials, and the constant feeling of adventure. It was certainly a contrast to [your out of town place of work].

Suddenly, the flurry of people suddenly cheered as the entire dancefloor switched partners.

Your excitement rose, then fell, as you were swept into the arms of the man you had been avoiding ever since you arrived back in town. He grasped your hand gently, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to his chest.

You rolled your eyes.

"Well, well, well," Laurie said. "Look who's running back into my arms. I told you that I'm irresistible, didn't I?"

"Laurie—"

"You didn't tell me you were back in town."

"That was intentional," you said, glancing off to the side at your potential partner who met your gaze with a disappointed expression. Had it not been for Laurie disrupting the dance routine, you would've ended up dancing with a man who looked wise beyond his years—the local blacksmith with a nonexistent hairline.

You were relieved yet highly annoyed.

Oblivious to the passing man's deadly glare, Laurie pouted at you. "It's been a year. Are you still angry at me?"

He spun you around—a little too quickly for your liking—but the dizziness stopped abruptly when you were back in his arms. You stiffened as your fingers dug into the fabric of his shoulder.

"That's putting it lightly, but yes, I am still angry at you," You said, your foot accidentally scraping his shoe as he waltzed backwards, pulling you along with him. He pretended not to notice as you carried on with the conversation. "I could've gotten hurt!"

"But that was years ago!" A few nearby couples glanced in your direction at his sudden exclamation that rose above the music. Laurie used a finger to guide your chin back to him. "The pond was shallow—"

You swiped his hand away playfully, resisting the smile that tugged at your mouth, before resuming the dance. "My dress was in ruins. And need I remind you the tadpole that nearly swam in my ear?"

He did nothing to stifle his laughter and all you could do was stand there and bite the inside of your jaw. Suddenly, the music changed and the audience switched partners again. As someone skipped towards you to grasp your arm, Laurie spun you and you were once again stolen away from a new suitor.

"It's been a year—"

"You said that already," you pointed out, impatience lacing your tone as you tried catching up with everyone else.

"And you keep avoiding the obvious question."

You two were circling each other now, palms touching, fingers pressed together in a parallel fashion.

"It just didn't work out," You said with a shrug, before you both circled each other in the opposite direction. "I missed home too much."

Laurie beamed. "By home, you mean me?"

"I mean, everything but you, Theodore Laurence."

His footsteps stalled, temporarily putting you both off beat. It took a moment before you two got steady again, switching hands and walking forwards and backwards in time with the music.

"What are you saying?" His voice conveyed a sense of hurt that you hoped to never hear again. You almost felt bad for coming on a little too harsh with your words.

"What I'm saying is...it's a little hard to miss someone who you feel is always with you." In the pocket of your overflowing skirt, you pulled out a smooth stone.

His eyes widened. "You kept it?" He inquired, his steps slowing again. You ran your thumb over the stone that had been eroded countless times into a smooth pebble. Laurie had given it to you as an apology for pushing you into the lake. You thought the gesture was stupid—if not a desperate attempt to get you to surrender your silence.

He swore he found it by the shallow end of the lake, but you were certain he had been holding it in his pocket after he found it by the shores of the beach—your least favorite place due to all the annoyingly rough sand.

"I carried it around with me every so often," You said, before slipping it back into your pocket. It was the only physically small object you could carry in your pocket. Your parents worrisome letters weren't small enough to stash away in your pocket.

Stunned by this revelation, he smirked. His eyebrows quirked upwards in curiosity.

"So you thought of me the entire time you were in [insert out of state place of work]?"

"I didn't say that—"

"You did, actually" he said, matter-of-factly. "And to that, I say I missed you, too, [your name]."

Unwilling to let this moment pass, he took a step forward to close the gap between you two. The cheek kiss was quick, miniscule— though all you could ever dream about since you left home.

He pulled back slowly, however, his smile was slightly diminished. "That still doesn't explain why didn't you come find me the moment you got back."

You felt your cheeks grow warm, the temperature in room starting to rise. Your eyes darted around you, but there was no room for escape. The dancefloor was too crowded and Laurie's grip on your hands, though gentle, was firm and unrelenting.

You had left home to pursue your dreams of being a [insert dream job] and without so much as letter of warning to him. It was for the sake of your guilt and the fact that if you had told him person (or given him your new address) you would've been hesitant to leave.

Laurie, as of now, had no plans of letting you leave him like that again.

You swallowed any lies resting on your tongue. "Because I didn't want to come back and find out that you moved on without me."

It was a reasonable admission—a rational fear of yours since you stepped out on faith to follow your dreams outside Massachusetts. But it was no excuse. There was no way you could return home and ignore the years of friendship—and dare you say, more—with the person in front of you.

He grinned, though it was devoid of arrogance and laced with understanding. You smiled subtly, though the guilt didn't melt away until he tilted your chin towards him, leaving a quick, breathless kiss on your lips. No further words were needed as he stepped back and offered his arm. Gingerly you took it with a humble curtsy and the both of you skipped and jumped around.

The two of you danced for hours, not bothering to switch partners while doing so.

[mirclealignr]

autumn leaves | laurie laurence.

laurie had never understood your partiality for the autumn months, with their bitter weather, prolonged nights and early sunsets, which left your candles burning longer than was typical, and suddenly you found yourself in town buying wax candles several more times a month than earlier in the year. it was extortionate and very inconvenient, and he found it easy to lay blame on the inhospitable season you adored so much.

oh, but how you tried to persuade him, to convince him of the opposite. 'just look at the trees' you'd tell him, and while he could not deny their beauty in autumn, changing slowly from green to orange, red and brown, he could not forget that he was admiring a beautiful death rather than a beautiful life.

"come for a walk with me, laurie? i think some fresh air will do us good," you suggested, having been cooped up inside all day, laurie focussing on his studies more intently than usual.

he barely looked up at the sound of your voice, and simply hummed in response as he continued to scribble mindlessly. sighing softly, you slung your outside coat on and pulled your wooly hat down over your ears to protect them from the chill. even as you tied your laces, laurie had not noticed any movement in the room or your change of appearance, too engrossed in his studies.

"laurie?" you called softly, but he gave no reply, "laurie!" you said more urgently this time.

"what?" he asked without looking up.

huffing, you stole the quill from between his fingers and discarded it on the desk, taking his hands in yours to force him to look your way without so much as a single distraction.

"you need a break, put your shoes on," you ordered.

"but-"

"i will not hear your ifs nor buts," you shook your head.

laurie hesitated for a moment before sighing softly, keeping his head down as he walked toward the hall where his shoes and coat were waiting to be worn. his legs were stiff from sitting so long in the same position, hardly thinking of his own well-being. today, that task had befallen you, though he hadn't intended for you to acquire such a burden.

"i do not understand your love for autumn," laurie reiterated as the cool air pierced his skin through his woolen garments.

"i know," you laughed, skipping ahead to crunch a pile of fallen leaves beneath your boots.

"do not leave me behind!" called laurie, fighting to catch up with you, only to have you run away again when he got close, "where are you going?"

you didn't reply, for you knew that with or without a response, laurie would follow you anywhere. running through the vast empty field, the expanse of green becoming a blur the faster you pushed yourself, you kept your eyes fixed to the towering oak tree. it was dwindling as summer and autumn shared their last embrace, laying out its life surrounding its home.

you stopped abruptly and laurie, who was racing behind you, thought something was amiss. he called out to you, only to have his voice washed away in the wind and distance. you crawled onto the floor, laying on your back beneath the almost leafless tree which was greeting its hibernation fondly, spreading your arms and legs out amongst the fallen drops of red, orange and brown.

laurie was utterly out of breath when he finally reached you, panting and grasping for breath that would not burn his throat. "what are you doing?" he asked weakly.

"making a leaf angel," you giggled, movie your arms and legs up and down and from side to side as you would in the snow.

laurie scoffed, laughing at himself for being so concerned for a brief moment in time. he dropped to the floor in exhaustion, no doubt exacerbated by his panic, and found himself mimicking your movements. you turned to him for a fleeting moment—he was smiling—before hauling yourself up from the ground.

"how does it look?" laurie asked, sitting up and climbing to his feet.

"perfect," you whispered, looking at the two little angels you had created in the colours, speckles of green poking through the thin layer of leaves where you and laurie had been lying.

"looks like they're holding hands," laurie obersved.

you hummed, "yes, it does," you looked down to your gloved hands, reaching out for laurie's rather daringly.

he foolishly tried to hide the blush that blossomed over his cheeks, leaving the two of you smiling and clutching each other's fingers tighter in quiet reassurance.

"come on, it looks as if it will rain," he nodded towards the darkening skies.

you pouted slightly, but you knew he was right, and you let him turn you away and begin to stroll back to the house.

"we'll come again tomorrow," he promised, kissing your temple softly.

library account; @mirclesjournal

[timmymyluv]

Still Want You

dad!laurie

laurie laurence x pregnant march!sister reader

my masterlist

warnings: pregnancy sex, mutual masterbation, oral (m/f receiving), mentions of sexist victorian etiquette/rules, fingering

summary: laurie laurence adores you even at your most vulnerable, heavily pregnant with his first born and not feeling your best. 

word count: 2.0k words

notes: surprise! this was not on my wip or even on my radar when i posted that wip update but this was meant to just be a writing exercise from a random prompt but i’m in love with this! really glad to be writing again and do what makes my soul sing. again please enjoy this, reblog and comment. 

taglist: @blackqueenstarseed1 @softhecreator @ohmysw33 @imnotoverlyobsessive @mondieumat @chanotel @starberry-cake @timotheel0ver @chalametsimp @hellomadamebutterfly @themonsterheloved @chal-latte @s-we-e-t-t-ea @zelleriz @strawberriescherrieskiwi @fangirl125reader @xoxoloverb @us3rd1stort1on @thebetawolfgirl @chelseamendes99 @yomidebby @esmaada @princessandtheflea @thestarsaregivenonceonly @meetmyothersouls @simp4timmy @davidxhollander @n0r1k0 @peachymetimmy @fadingpieclodalien @gatoenlaciudad @tchalamet13​ @twoforonee @ailee-celeste @livlovelaughh @iuwjwdhq222 @rmiswift @beautifulblack0920 

“Did the baby just kick you?” You squeaked excitedly as Laurie stared at you in surprise with wide eyes, his warm palms never leaving your abdomen.

Swollen ankles, sore limbs dominated your days as life blossomed within you. To your darling husband however, you were glowing more strikingly than ever.

Ever since you have become husband and wife, you have transformed into a completely innocent, oblivious stranger to the entanglements of the flesh with your caring spouse more than willing to indulge in you wholly and selflessly.

Introducing you to pleasures and sensations that you could only dream of, it was only sooner or later before the inevitable of a child growing in your belly was to become reality.

With his ostensibly perpetual trust fund and inheritance allowing him every whim and freedom, your planned two-week honeymoon extended into a few months across Europe without any responsibilities calling him back home to the American continent.

By the time you had returned to New England, having left in the dawn of summer and returning in the late spring, your symptoms of lightheadedness, nausea were confirmed by a head doctor from the capital that Laurie’s grandfather insisted that his granddaughter-in-law only deserved the best.

If you felt that you were looking and feeling your worst, the love of your life would tirelessly, eagerly complement you and give in to your every whim and desire.  

“I have swelled like a whale, Laurie. How could you want me still when I look like this?” You pout, wiping the sweat off your brow as you sat down clumsily with a hand over your belly.

“That is nonsense, my dear wife. On the contrary, I desire you more than ever. If you will ever let me show you that-” Laurie shakes his head with a teasing smile, his eyes shining with a blend of lust and adoration, raising his brow suggestively, before you jokingly push him away by the shoulder.

You wanted nothing more than to give in to his temptation, the feeling of his lush lips against where your neck meets your shoulders, an electrifying jolt down your spine of want and desire that numbs the discomfort and pain pregnancy has given you over the past few months.

You squeak weakly as you press your palms on his chest for support, his wandering hands fluttering from the curves of your side, your breasts and hips that have grown and flourished much to his delight, and reeling in the enhanced softness of your flesh that was only brought upon by the child growing in your bosom.

“Is it not wrong for a pregnant wife for me to engage in such frivolity when she is already with child? Will we not be frowned upon that you give such attention to the pleasures of the flesh not only to yours, but always satisfy mine? Is this not only meant for an act of procreation-” Laurie’s face drops in concern and worry, pausing his escapes in worshiping your body to frame your face, cupping your cheeks with calloused hands as he looks you right in the eye.

“My rose, who has planted such ridiculous things into your mind like so? Yes, that is what proper society demands of man and wife, but we are not like them, remember? It pains me for you to believe that you deserve paltry, baseline treatment when I want to adore you, cherish you, worship you like the goddess you are. “ Peppering kisses from your forehead down to your nose, the apples of your cheeks as tears start to fall from your eyes, he manages to appease at least a giggle from your form.

“There you go, my girl. If you allow me, I want to make a temple of your body just like I always have. The mere fact that our love making has resulted in a child, a wonderful blessing from God who is half you and half me only makes me want you more.” His fingers hovered over the lace of your corset, fortunately much looser than typical fashion expected in order to make room for your growing belly, and waited for a willing nod from you.

You reach forward for a passionate kiss on his lips as far as your belly can allow your torsos to touch, sliding off his obsidian coat of his slender arms and leaving him in the fine, pure white chemise you always adored on him.

Desperate moans from him only urge you further, smirking in how drunk he is in his lust, his want and desperation for you. Reaching and digging into you like a distant treasure he seeks but cannot find, yet he is always yours and you are always for him for the taking.

The laces of the corset are set loose and falls down the ground unceremoniously, in which you step out of and kick away carelessly, too consumed by dragging your tongue around his neck and collarbones.

The buttons of his dress shirt pop open with your joint effort, as you both lean towards the plush mattress of your joint bedroom. He carefully undresses your fine dress he had personally tailored for you by one of the top designers in Europe, remembering how much you adored this colour on your skin tone and wanted to save it for the future.

Left only in your undergarments, he pulls down his trousers and leaving himself bare for you to revere before raising the translucent cream undergarment that left nothing to the imagination as you lift your arms to assist him.

Laurie steps away to drink in your figure with hunger, licking his lips and his eyes exploring around you wildly as your heart thumps so loud you can hear your heartbeat, brushing your thighs together to satisfy the warmth growing underneath.

“Look at you, my darling. Pregnancy agrees with you, look how our love has created a life. How your body has transformed to make room for our child, how your breasts have grown and already produce milk, your hips widened, your limbs filled in, your skin glowing - I must have you and I cannot believe I am so lucky to have you.” He reaches down trailing kisses around your neck before leaning in feverishly to suck on your nipples while fondling the other breast with kneading hands, eliciting a pitched whine from you.

Giving the same attention to the other breast, you tangle your fingers into his curls. He sucks delicately to your under breast and down your sternum before pressing his ear curiously to your belly, smiling warmly before he gently pushes you down the mattress with so much care like you were made of glass and going to break easily.

He ravishes you into another all-consuming kiss in which you battle your tongue with his feverishly, opening your legs wide and playing with your clit and mound between your legs that radiates a delicious moan from your husband, eyes rolling behind his eyes in intoxication.

“I want you to play with yourself, my dove.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, please.”

Teddy admires you with adoring eyes, before reaching down to toy with his shaft, using the precum already settling from his tip and base, crying your name captivatingly like a prayer. You plunge another finger in your head and cannot control the squeals that come from your mouth has you increase your speed.

Suddenly, he joins your fingers in your heat and moan so loudly as the wave of dizziness overcomes you, so entrenched in the lush haze he has brought you into without warning. Leaning forward to pinch your clit before he sucks it in with his own mouth and teeth, he licks and indulges in your mound like a starved man.

From your head to your toes, you feel the string in your belly pull apart and yanked, a dream like state that has you flying and splattering all the stars in the sky as it becomes all haziness and bright lights in your vision.

Your fingers joined with his and his mouth erupts into your orgasm, releasing into his mouth and all over both your fingers. Laurie kisses your clit once more before he smouches you, your metallic taste on his tongue causing you to moan once more.

Panting and catching your breath from your orgasm, he smooths your hair and pecks your forehead before he moves down to line up with your core, but you stop him with a grasp on his wrist.

“Do you not want to go on, my love? I can stop at any time if you are uncomfortable or hurting the baby?”

“No, no - I want you in my mouth.”

“Darling, it would only strain you for you to get on your knees. What if it injures our child?”

Sliding your head down towards the edge of the bed, he watches you curiously as you tuck a pillow underneath your head and wait patiently with an open mouth.

“You can take me like this, hovering over me while I lie down.” He swears lustily as he climbs towards you, knees between your head and brushing against your ears, earning a chuckle from you as it slightly tickles you.

Reaching forward with shaky, impatient hands as you stroke his length, earning a sharp inhale from him as he lines up against your mouth, feeling your warm cavern and your lips, inch by inch until your nose hits his pubic bone and you moan in delight.

The salty taste of his shaft as he slowly rises above you, relenting in a regimented, reluctant pace. Muttering and groaning in vulgar phrases, Laurie picks up a pace with tightly shut eyes and warm, rosy cheeks as his thrusting turns quick and frenzied. As you join your fingers around his cock and massage his lower abdomen before he floods your mouth with his warm, viscous release.

Gathering his breath with his forehead resting against the headboard, he pulls out from your mouth and smothers his palms all over your spent body. Tracing a line down your arms, pinching your nipples between his fingers, slurping and licking your belly button, he takes another pillow and puts it gently underneath your lower back.

“Is this comfortable, my angel?”

“Mmm.” You purr dreamily, supporting your belly as you spread your knees as wide as possible.

His large hands clenching your ankles, Laurie convulsed deftly into you, earning a piquant wail from your shaking form. He groans as he watches where you meet, joined into one without any thought of the outside world. You only felt him in your veins, in your joints, in your soul, merged together. He was the only thing you could see, feel, taste, touch - you wanted nothing more than this. If there was ever a heaven, you found it.

He releases into you ,holding your legs up to your chest, spread wide to not squish your protruding stomach. Laurie rests his head against your belly, embracing your bump and hands circled around your waist as he relishes in skin to skin contact with his wife and unborn child.

“I never thought you could become even more beautiful than ever, my dear. Yet you have, you always do, day by day. No words can do it justice. How you create this life with such grace, such strength. I cannot love and thank you enough.”

Beaming with so much joy you feel you cannot smile any wider, you massage his scalp and tug on his curls in a manner only you know he adores, he relish in the physical touch that brings fire to your loins, brings you more life than you ever have felt before.

Your child, will they have his eyes? Or your temperament? What about his curls? None of that mattered when they were all so close to you, skin to skin, feeling the warmth of his flesh against yours, breathing so slowly, as if a reminder he was real and fully alive in front of you.

“And I adore you too, Theodore Laurence. You have been the most wonderful husband, and you will be just as marvelous as a father.”

[hanafarook]

Little Women ff -pt1

Choi Do Il and Oh In joo - The story continues!

For everyone (including me) who wished they could see them ending up together in the show. Special mention @choidoilgirl I hope you like this

(The fanfic takes place after the sisters receive their share of money, Inkyung is in US and In Joo is in Seoul.)

It had been some time since the three sisters received their share of money courtesy of Choi Do il's meticulous planning; To think that the initial shock and surprise would finally settle down in In Joo   but it's been a while and something in her refused to settled down - strange sense of feeling that she couldn't quite name. 

"Wow, when did you finally find time to video call your older sister? Huh Inkyung? And all for gossip… I expected better from you" Joo said, as if offended. "I'm more offended with your choices in men, lately" Inkyung was half laughing, after listening to In joo talk in detail about how her recent blind date went. 

It was somewhere way beyond midnight, when Inkyung had rung up In joo. Under the dim lights of the tiny dining room, the sisters were catching up on details of each other's lives. 

"So you're saying that not only did the guy asked you to pay for dinner at a fancy restaurant but also tried to sell his gym's membership? Like that was not bad?" Inkyung hadn't stopped laughing. 

"ehhh it wasn't that bad" In joo protested, embarrassed, avoiding eye contact.

"yeah.. Maybe…a little" she added, massaging her temple. 

"Seriously sister, have you learned nothing from the time you married that Asshole ?well… on the other hand you do seem to attract conmen all the time" Inkyung commented, though in a joking manner but her tone had a hint of reproach.

"Me and attract con men? Nonsense" In joo, dismissed her sister's claim.

"However, there's actually one I'll approve of," stated Inkyung, casually. 

"Is my sister actually approving of a con man for me? Nice …I'm actually curious who that might be?"  InJoo asked impassively. 

"He's quite the money laundering expert, saved your life and drove a German car while he was at it".

"Can you just be serious? I don't even know who you're talking about" In joo scolded Inkyung.  

Inkyung paused, her face was a mix of disappointment and disbelief. "Are you for real? You're telling me you don't remember Choi Do Il?"

"tsk tsk", Inkyung clicked her tongue in disapproval. 

"Why are we even talking about him all of a sudden?" In joo said with a small laugh. 

Whenever In Joo was embarrassed, she would do this thing where she would laugh abruptly and quietly avoiding eye contact as if it would brush something under the rug. 

A Distraction.

Inkyung of course knew that very well of her older sister, she also felt to some extent slightly guilty about leaving In Joo all alone in Seoul. 

"Well, I'm just saying…you know? If you had to really date someone…you could date someone who always had your best interests at heart, while going to hell and back…..in a nice german car of course - a plus point." Inkyung's voice was very matter of factly but with an edge. 

InJoo made a noise that sounded as if she was coughing. 

"Anyways…I gotta go, I have class and I have to meet Jongho before class begins"

"Great to know you've replaced me with Jongho… who you literally see everyday" said In joo jokingly. "tell him, I said hi"

Inkyung laughed, "well nobody's stopping you from going all out to replace me either, preferably with a guy who drives a German car, I would be the happiest"

"Wow, would you look at that…you've turned more American than I would have liked" 

"HMMM, yes and you're still single. Please do something about that. I'm going now… take care?"

"yeah yeah… I will. Eat well, stay warm and healthy since it's going to winter soon"

Inkyung waved goodbye and the screen of injoo's phone went back to her kakao's chatbox. 

Although this was any other conversation at any given day of the month, It left in joo feeling more unsettled than before. Why did she feel a sudden ache in her body? She felt something similar when Choi Do Il was at the airport, leaving for Greece; the feeling was much lighter then. Today it felt heavier than before, like there was something unfolding in her chest. 

Inkyung, as soon as the video call  disconnected stared at the phone for a moment, she knew there were times when In joo pushed her and Jongho together probably more subtly, she couldn't help but worry about her older sister. 

Without her and Inhye and definitely not counting her parents. In joo was more lonely - a thought that often crossed inkyung's mind, except for a once in a month conversation, they didn't have time to speak to each other often. 

InJoo looked happy in the video calls but Inkyung knew better than anyone that her sister was quite lonely. 

Her sister deserved the money but she deserved happiness and someone who would make a fantastic partner and because Inkyung did not trust people, let alone In Joo's choice in men. 

"I really… for your sake, hope you go after love this time" Inkyung whispered to the blank screen .

(Note: I still haven't come up with a title once I do, I will update this.)

[imkittyjustkitty]

💤 — Fluffuly #4

— prompt : the one and only @fluffuly2022

— pairings : Amy March x Reader

Amy rests on your chest, her head rising and falling as you breath. One of your arms are wrapped around her torso, holding her close as you lie together, while the other gently cards through her soft hair.

Your voices are soft as you talk about whatever comes to mind, the conversation dancing across topics such as Amy's family, your favourite time of day, her favourite colours (which are any of the ones you tend to wear frequently), or your favourite memories (you stand by the fact that it's the day you met her, and hers is one when she was equal and loved in the eyes of her sisters).

Eventually, the conversation seems to drift to heavier topics, from the time Amy fell in the lake, and how it terrified her to the bone, to your shared fear of the outside world. For now, there's still an air of comfort in the air, no matter the past, you and Amy are lying together in each-others arms.

But the energy in the room shifts, and you can tell Amy is thinking about something that upsets her, in a way you have only caught glimpses of in the past.

"Y/N," Her eyes peer up at your face, "If... if there were someone prettier, smarter, more successful than I, someone braver than I, would you choose them over me?"

Your face falls into a frown, your hand halting it's actions in Amy's hair as you look down at her face, which holds an unreadable expression.

"What do you mean, Amy?"

Amy sighs, burying her head in the crook of your neck to avoid eye contact.

"What I mean is, there's plenty others girls... ones with far more success than I."

Your heart breaks a little as you finally catch on to what Amy's getting at.

"Hey, no," Your hands go back to playing with her hair and rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her, "I would never choose anyone over you."

You feel Amy nod, followed by the sound of her sniffling and the feeling of teardrops dropping onto your chest.

You try not to cry with her as you hold her impossibly closer, whispering softly to her about everything you love about her, lulling her into sleep, and it's not long until you fall asleep too, to only the sounds of Amy's soft breaths and rising and falling chest against yours.

It crosses your mind that this conversation clearly isn't over and that Amy will need more reassurances, but for now, you lay in eachother's arms, calm and in love.

You take a deep breath as tendrils of tiredness tempt you closer and closer to sleep. Before your let yourself fall into slumber, you whisper one last thing to your love.

“I could never settle for anyone else, Amy, you’re my one and only.”

[feyofmay]

The Righthand Man

Laurie x March!Reader Summary: Assisting in making the costumes for Jo's upcoming show, Y/N, who is love with Laurie, is forced to spend time with Laurie, who is in love with Jo. Angst ensues. word count: 2.8k Warnings: Fluffffffffff, all platonic, angst, reader gets called "Ducky"

This story is a snippet from my longer Laurie x reader story, Foolish, Honest Love on ao3.

Also, I am taking requests for Laurie x reader drabbles/minifics in my asks!!! :)

STORY STARTS UNDER THE PAGE BREAK

A trickle of syrupy scarlet begins to pool and form a bubble on the tip of the young girl’s finger. However, the sight of blood does not squeeze even a squeal out of her. Rather, all she does is sigh and place the finger between her lips. Between her lips, a row of pins rest beside her finger like a line of spiked fences, a warning to wandering souls. With her free hand, she guides the loose fabric to curl around her waist. 

“I must be the prettiest. I am the princess,” her younger sister declares like true royalty as she remains still under the middle March’s touch. Humming in agreement, she pulls her finger from her lips and leads the needle down a familiar trail. Although the house is always a little bit of a mess, in the most recent days it has grown into a beast of its own. Pieces of fabric are strung about everywhere, and loose pages of noted and edited scripts cover the floor as a gray and white layer of snow in autumn. A sheen of dust and the stink of old paper and musty fabric smothers in the autumn air. Without a knock, a boy enters, carrying the autumn breeze on the edges of his footsteps. Lost in her work, the middle March doesn’t pay any mind to anything outside of the glimmer of her needle as she works to avoid the wrath of her younger sister. If the needle is to even brush against her skin, the younger March will inform the whole neighborhood of the atrocity her sister has committed. Adorning a heather gray wool skirt, of which some other sisters have surely worn in seasons past, her heather purple bolero pinches around her collar and floats over her white collar shirt and black bodice. 

“I’m sure you will-” She begins, speaking around the pins in her mouth.

“Ducky, how’s the costume coming along?”

“- be. Just don’t paint the fabric without asking me first again,” Ducky continues while their older sister speaks around her. Like a knight in battle, the eldest of the three forces through the chaos of their home.

“Jo, you better have removed the part where I have to kiss a toad!” the youngest of the present sisters yells out to Jo. Ducky places her palm against the youngest’s stomach as a way to calm her and tell her to refrain from moving.

“Amy, you have to stay still, or I’ll poke you,” Ducky reminds her before returning to sewing the draping robin blue fabric. All of their conversation overlaps and forms a symphony of dissonant harmonies.

“I’m nearly finished with Amy’s, and all I have of Meg’s is final fittings, she’s putting hers on right now -” Ducky begins as she begins looping the thread into itself, forming a knot. 

“Perfect, we’re just behind schedule!” Jo continues her own tangent while she stations herself besides Ducky and begins to digest Amy's appearance.

“- and then all I have left is to make your jacket, and figure out Laurie’s ensemble, and I’m unsure what you want for me, regarding ‘my part’ in the show, itself,” Ducky trails off as she picks up her scissors and frees her needle from the taut thread caught in the knot of Amy’s dress. A heap of  tulle the color of a robin’s egg and a mellow baby blue silk cascade from underneath her beaded white bodice like a waterfall. Hours and hours have been spent on beading the bodice, alone, and, with sweat, time, and a minimal amount of blood, the middle March has managed to piece together the costumes for Jo’s newest and best show. 

“You’re going to be the wise old witch who lives in the forest -” Jo starts to fall into her tangent as she waves her hands. In her right hand, the newest version of her script resides.

“I’m only acting because Marmee’s done getting involved in your shows,” Ducky confirms.

“- Well, yes, but that doesn’t make your role any less important,” Jo reminds her as Ducky rises to her feet and brushes off her skirt. Blood rushes into her legs and feeling finally slips back into her feet after sitting for hours on the rickety wooden stool. As the teen boy discards his jacket, Jo is alerted of his presence and her attention shoots over to him. Rushing over to him, her arms shoot out to greet him. 

“Teddy!” Jo shouts when she’s engulfed in a hug. The two prattle on in a quick back and forth of banter and quips, and Amy waddles off to the mirror so she can properly admire herself. Leaving Ducky all by her lonesome, she sets down the pins between her lips and straightens up her makeshift sewing station. As she collects the spools of thread that had attempted to escape the nest of odd bobbins and spools of an assortment of colors of thread, she can't prevent her eyes from glancing over at the teen boy who’s attempting to swallow Jo in a hug. While she’s too young to wade deeper into her own emotions, she’s perturbed by the small pest named Envy that nips at the walls of heart. She’s not mad, not angry at either her sister or the boy, but she wants to be hugged like that. She wants to be seen & touched with the same feeling of “I feel you, and, therefore, I know you”. For a brief moment, the stories of far fetched courtship and romance are a faint taste on the tip of her tongue, real and tangy. Seeing her younger sister and being old enough to swim in the depths of her own feelings, the eldest March strolls over as a wreath of wisdom hangs around her head. With a knowing gaze and sturdy smile, she bends down so her lips are the same height as Ducky’s ear.

“Do you think he’s handsome?” she whispers to her younger sister as her words bubble up into a giggle. Ducky’s head shoots around to look at her older sister. A similar shade of red to the wound on her finger soaks into her entire face. Her nails dig into her palms, and her chest shutters from the pounding of her heart.

“Shut it, Meg!” she mutters out while gathering the last bobbins and placing them back into the small heap of thread. Laughing over the embarrassment of a young lover, Meg presses a hand against Ducky’s shoulder before gliding over to assist in admiring Amy’s dress by the mirror.

“Ducky, what have you planned for the right hand man to the hero, the protagonist, of my tale?” Jo enthuses as she rushes over to the younger sister’s station. Scooping up a pile of concepts and measurements all messily scrawled across different sheets of paper in looping, unfocused handwriting, the middle March digs through the loose scraps of paper until pulling out several ideas all scribbled on with a stick of graphite and colored pencils. Jo leans over to peer at the drawn figures, and the teen boy mirrors her movements. Sketched onto the paper in coagulating shapes, a drawing of a man clad in a puffy nectarine orange jacket in gold trim and forest green waistcoat dawns the garments over a pair of orange slacks in a matching shade and white high collar shirt with a forest green and orange striped cravat. 

“Perhaps the costume will make up for the fact that you can’t act,” Jo quips out as the two gaze at the young girl’s sketches. Teddy whips his head around to glare at the elder sister as she begins to leap away. Never does Jo simply “walk”, rather, her spirits carry the heels of her weathered leather boots just an inch above the physical Earth. To Ducky, Jo is beyond what any human can promise to be. After all, no mere human of flesh and blood could survive carrying the weight of tenacity and creativity like her sister does. Jo flings her body around and contorts it like a hanging rag left to dry in the wind, and the taupe skirt of her dress wrings her as she flips around to face Teddy.

“You wound me so,” he replies with a filling smile. Jo’s hand flies up to smack Teddy’s forearm. 

“Good, make use of that anguish in scene fourteen,” Jo quickly snips back as she starts to float away with the spirit of genius, her true paramore, “Now, stand here and do whatever Ducky tells you to do without any complaint.”

“What if she stabs me?” Laurie whines while he finds his place where Amy had recently stood before him. 

“I don’t want to hear any of it! You most likely deserve it, anyways,” Jo declares before rushing away to join her two other sisters by the mirror. A squeal of delight leaves Amy’s lips as she scampers away, chasing a distant thought that rattles around in her head.

“I’ll paint my shoes to match!” Amy giggles as she rushes off, leaving the two other sisters to follow her in quick pursuit. With a small smile, Ducky attempts to silently apologize for her sisters’ behaviors.

“Never a dull moment, eh?” Teddy eases her with a knowing glance, and she shares the look while flipping to a blank page in her notepad. Grabbing her measuring tape from around her neck, the middle March brushes back a few strands of hair that had escaped from her makeshift updo, kept together only by a single piece of loose, pale pink ribbon. Lightly gripping his forearms, her fingers sink into the billowing fabric of his watery gray shirt. 

“I’ll need to take your measurements. If I touch you in any way that’s discomforting, let me know,” she explains to him as she guides his arms up to extend out like a child’s when they’re pretending to be an airplane. The tips of his fingers brush against the fading cream and pink flowers that orner the sage green background of the wallpaper that, over the past years, has been dented and scraped from calloused yet tender fingers of youth. Nodding in reply, he stands stalk still as she wraps the measuring tape around his arm before jotting down the measurements in her small notebook. 

“Jo told me that you're some sort of expert seamstress,” Laurie informs her, speaking to try and swallow the silence that the two of them are sinking in. As the tips of her fingers brush against his, a pursed smile tucks itself into her lips. 

“I’m nothing close to that, but I do sew,” Ducky corrects him while she slips the tape around his neck, continuing her work. 

“Is that your big dream? Jo will be a writer, Meg will act, Amy will paint and Beth plays, and you’ll sew?” he asks with a sense of genuine inquisitiveness, tilting his head back as she leans in to better see the faded numbers, leaving about a hand’s width of space between his face and hers. However, as she’s consumed by her work, she isn’t sent awry by the lack of distance between the two. Whispering the measurement to herself, she ushers back to her notepad and copies down the digits, pausing from the conversation to focus on her craft. 

“No, no, that’s Jo’s dream for me,” she admits while shuffling to loop the tape around his bust. 

“Well then, what will you be?” Laurie continues as he raises his hands above his head to allow Ducky to reach around him comfortably. She pauses for a moment, both engulfed in her work and unsure how to answer his question. Tendrils of sunlight begin poking through the window as the sky starts to fade to a rusty hue. 

“I’m not quite sure,” she begins as she turns to copy more digits before adjusting the tape to next measure his hips, “Far. Free, not depending on any man to live how I want to.” Listing off her floating aspirations, Teddy gazes down and watches her precise fingers whisper a secret against the rippling powder blue, silk fabric of his waistcoat.

“What about you? What’s your dream?” she swings the question back to him, and he’s slightly taken aback by her forwardness. Often entranced by Jo and her wild acclaims of the future, he’s yet to think about what it is that he wants. Pursing his lips, the boy considers several archived visions of an ideal future that he’s contemplated in the past. 

“Well, I want to marry a woman. I want to spend my days free from tutoring, content to do whatever I please whenever I’d please. Maybe I’d settle down and put my musical talents to some use, as they’re the only talents my grandfather thinks has worth,” Teddy admits, and, as he discusses his aspirations for his future, a dull ache washes over Ducky, and she’s faced with an answer that’s unfamiliar to her. When her sisters are faced with the question “what do you dream?” every single one of them has a secret truth that is inlaid in the very foundation of their mind. They dream of safety. Of a home that is good enough, and a husband that is kind enough. Of a life that is fulfilling enough. They dream of the brink of enough, of simply a little more than bearable. A man can dream of happiness, but a woman only hopes for enough. Only has Jo honestly strayed from this path, as even Amy, with age, begins to share the three other March’s mindset. Jo continues to strive for greatness, and Ducky can do nothing but admire her for it.

“I sincerely pray for a safe and speedy recovery to any woman who falls for your ‘charms’,” Ducky retorts, and, for a second, her own tone reminds her greatly of Meg. The eldest sister always spoke with a sense of grace and intellect that Ducky found surreal. How could one speak like a bubbling brook flows? For a moment, as the words dribble out from her lips, Ducky is filled with the same rush of ease that she often feels when Meg is teasing Jo. As if called on by a greater divinity, just as Ducky finishes her measurements, Jo and Meg rush back over, with Meg sporting a new, oily black mustache painted onto her face. 

“Teddy, come quickly,” Jo commands to her companion, snatching his arm and dragging him along before he has time to digest her words. There’s no goodbye or reply as he follows behind Jo like a puppy on her heel. As he’s hurried away, Ducky’s eyes linger on his stumbling frame as the timid smile from her lips falls. The middle March begins to curl into herself as the eldest ushers across the dining, over to her sister. Meg rests her cheek against the side of Ducky’s head as, with her embrace, she shields Ducky from the world’s eye. 

“Ducky, tell me plainly and you mustn't lie. Do you fancy him, Teddy?” she asks her younger sister, but both of them already know the answer without speaking. Closing her notepad, Ducky doesn’t even glance up at her sister as she presses her weight into her older sister’s frame. The younger March curls up into her sister’s embrace and folds herself into the young girl that used to hide in Meg’s nightgowns as shrieking thunderstorms raged through the night.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. He’s already in love with Jo,” she mutters into her sister’s chest as she wallows and wades in her own misery. Of course he loves Jo, who couldn’t fall in love with Jo? When she’s basking in the light of her own flowing talent and erudition, everyone falls in love with her. Jo is everything every mother never wants her daughter to be, and, in that right, she is what every mother prays her daughter becomes. She has never changed and, yet, is constantly born anew with each day. Never a lady, but yet an adult, wise yet naive to the weight of the world, everybody is in love with Jo, and this love holds no romantic intention. Rather, it is a deep well of devotion to a person that fills a lover’s stomach and renders one completely whole. To love someone entirely is to find peace within yourself and be content with one’s nature when in the presence of the one you love. So, in this manner, Ducky is entirely in love with Jo.

“It matters a great deal to me how you feel,” her older sister reminds her while strands of Ducky’s hair begin to curl around and hug Meg’s finger, “I’ll always want to hear about your feelings, no matter how large or pointless they may seem.” Silently, the two of them bask in each other’s embrace, and, without a word, Ducky knows her older sister understands her emotions inside & out. In her arms, she feels protected from everything, come snow or hail. In her arms, she is safe to be a young, scared girl.

Please comment & repost, & check out the whole fic :)). If you want me to add u to a taglist, lmk, & please send any laurie x reader drabble/fic requests my way!! I'd love to hear y'alls ideas! Have a lovely rest of your day, friends! <3

[apolloanddaphnis]

I have such an idea for a Little Women fanfic omgomfomfgggg

[amnesique]

she's not you — amy march & laurie laurence

(modern au)

pairing : amy march x laurie laurence

summary : after a few good years after breaking up with his ex-girlfriend (amy), laurie comes face to face with the past when he sees her at a table in the cafe where he was having lunch during his lunch break.

maybe marrying one of his employees, after inheriting the family company, was not the best choice that theodore 'laurie' laurence ever made in his life. because now, after barely three years of being married with her, they were on the verge of a divorce because of his wife's excessive jealousy, and he had enough of seeing her at home and hearing her yell at him. there was no need to also see her or hear at his workplace. and he would have given her days off, but the woman would have realized and his situation would have worsened.

so he ended up having his lunch at the cafe, the only place where he would have some peace.

what he didn't know is that his peace would not last very long because behind him, a few tables away, was amy, his ex-girlfriend and his first love.

the girl he once knew, because she was still very young when they had been together, had become a strong woman and a fantastic painter. the latter being due to her husband, fred vaughn, who was a very well-known businessman who had helped her become known in the field. not that it mattered much now. what mattered was that she was there, in the same room with him, with a sketchbook in her arms, making a quick portrait of laurie, without having recognized him.

after hastening to finish the portrait as quickly as she could, because she feared that he would leave and the portrait would remain unfinished, she got up from the table and headed towards his table. when she arrived at his table and recognized his face, she thought she would die of happiness.

laurie was not only the first boy he loved, but he was also a very present person from her childhood. because they used to be neighbors and thanks to him being friends with her older sister, amy saw him very often. he always made her feel happy.

"laurie!" she called his name excitedly, not too loudly though, so as not to draw too much attention to them.

being amazed at how quickly he recognized her voice, he looked up at her and when he saw her, a smile spread across his face. "amy!" he answered her in the same way, making her smile even harder.

still excited, amy let her sketchbook on the table and sat on the seat in front of him.

"tell me, what else is new in your life?" she put a hand under her chin and her eyes shone when she looked at him.

he shrugged, feeling his joy disappear when she mentioned his life, but not to spoil her mood, he changed the subject when his eyes fell on the portrait. "is that me?"

she laughed a little awkwardly and wanted to cover the sketch with her hand but he was faster and took her sketchbook from the table, analyzing it.

he pretended to analyze her technique, although he didn't know much about painting or drawing in general. "is it just me or has your technique improved considerably?" he asked her, tracing with his finger the lines she had drawn, when in fact he was remembering the other portraits he had received from her. but he couldn't tell her that. he would have felt guilty for bringing up the past and would not want to confuse her from the path she had, even if he did not know it. they no longer kept in touch as they had done before.

"i guess you could say so." she replied, fiddling with the wedding ring on her finger, as usual.

as he dropped the portrait, his eyes fell on the wedding ring. was she married? why didn't he know that?

"who's the lucky guy?" he couldn't help but ask her, trying to look nonchalant as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and his gaze darting up and down. at her face. at her wedding ring. and so on.

she smiled. he didn't think it would affect him. only a few years had passed. years in which she had heard that he had married, although, now that she had also glanced at the ring finger, she had not noticed any wedding ring.

was he divorced?

"actually, it's really ironic." she said, gesturing with her hands in the air and reaching across the table to recover her sketchbook. he looked at her perplexed, raising an eyebrow, so she continued. "it's fred vaughn. he used to be your friend." she smiled, but he clenched his jaw just barely perceptibly. "actually, as far as i remember you were the one who introduced them to us. am i right?"

she was referring to the picnic she, her sisters, laurie and fred's siblings had a few years ago. and he knew it. only that he preferred to pretend that he didn't.

"it is very possible. however, i do not remember." he could have been an actor because he could lie shamelessly. "a few years ago we had a dispute between our families and since then we haven't kept in touch, but i suppose you know that, don't you?" he challenged her, still looking at her. this time he didn't lie.

"um, yes, he had mentioned something about that." she answered simply, continuing to twirl the wedding ring on her finger. "but you?" now it was her turn to be attentive to him. "i heard that you are married. how is your wife?"

she's not you, he wished he could say. but no matter how much he regretted the day he had introduced her to fred, amy seemed happy with the choices she had made. in the end, that's what matters. isn't that right?

"um," he cleared his throat and dropped his arms by his side, shifting his position in the chair. "we're about to get divorced."

her mood had changed. she felt guilty for asking such a question. she shouldn't have interfered in his life. they were not so close anymore.

"sorry. i didn't know." she hurried to apologize and to seemed preoccupied with the sketchbook, to close it.

"it's ok, you had nowhere to hear that." he replied, giving her a weak smile. "now if you'll excuse me," he began as he stood up and arranged his suit on himself. "i should probably go back to work."

she also got up and put her things back in her bag, at which point he allowed himself to analyze her body, until her gaze landed on him. "no, no, you're right. i should go too." she said, looking anywhere but him. she still felt guilty.

he noticed that she felt guilty, and taking advantage of the fact that he wanted to touch her, he took her hand in his and planted a kiss on her. a simple gesture of politeness that could have gone unnoticed by those around and even by her. "don't feel bad amy, you didn't ask anything wrong." he let go of her hand with difficulty, but he made sure that his facial expression was sincere.

"i'm so glad that i got to see you again." she told him dreamily.

he knew that she didn't mean it in the same way that he meant it, but he couldn't refrain from still saying it. "me too. you have no idea."

she approved with a smile, and arranging her bag on her shoulder and heading for the door to leave, she addressed him for the last time that day. "i'll see you another time, laurie."

she had walked through the door until he answered her, continuing to look in her direction, with a stab in his soul. "i'll see you another time, amy."

he knew what he had to do.

so he turned on his phone as he went back into his car. and once he got to the car and the phone was back on, he called his wife.

"hi, gina, we have to talk. i'll be back at the office in a few minutes."

and with that, until she starts contradicting him again, he hung up and started the car.

there was no point in staying in a marriage if the feelings no longer existed. not that they could exist and be stronger than the ones he had for amy. that was clearly impossible.

in a short time he would be single and he would regret it for the rest of his life that he lost the only woman he ever loved. he lost her to fred.

fred vaughn, ladies and gentlemen!

[cauliflowertree]

jo march—we fell in love in october.

summary: jo only finds comfort in you.

word count: 0.4k

fanfic no. 007

“i hate pumpkins,” remarked jo, in particularly low spirits this autumn day.

“it is not as if you have to eat them,” you scoffed, scanning the small selection your town provided.

“they are so obnoxiously orange,” jo scowled, turning her nose up at the innocent vegetables.

“now jo,” you laughed, “what has you so cast down?” you asked her, knowing it was not the pumpkins offending her this much.

jo would not answer you, only hugged her winter coat tighter around her waist and played with the stray pieces of wool on her gloves. you accepted her silence more willingly than she would have liked, but refused to relent even if she was being ignored, which she so detested.

“what about this one?” you asked, picking up a hefty pumpkin amongst its brothers and sisters.

“looks like the rest,” she shrugged, turning to look at the passing carriages after giving her answer.

“has your publisher said something to upset you again?”

jo turned to you in alarm—was she really so predictable? timidly, she twirled her unkempt hair and glanced at you abashedly, knowing now she was caught and could not lie or avoid your questioning stare so easily.

“he wanted to change so much,” jo explained with a sigh, “and i know it is because he knows what will sell, but i wish what i wrote would sell just the same.”

you could not relate to her on this specific feeling, one you were unlikely ever to experience, but you offered your counsel and comfort nonetheless.

“oh, i am sorry, jo. maybe when you are established enough, you’ll be able to publish whatever you like, and you will not have to change for anyone,” you clasped her hands in yours, “i know i like your stories just as they are,” you consoled the girl.

“perhaps you are right,” she gave you a half hearted smile and then began to look over your shoulder, “i like that pumpkin,” she said after a moment, pointing to the stall behind you.

“which one? this one?” you asked.

“yes.”

“what’s so special about this one?” you asked her, dipping into your pockets for the money jo’s mother had given the two of you for this very adventure.

“it looks like it would make a good face,” jo explained with a lopsided grin, bending down to pick it up and cradle it.

“whatever you say jo, dear,” you laughed, paying special attention to the blush that crept up on her cheeks from the endearment that slipped past your lips.

[haaam-guuuurl]

Little Women Amy x Laurie Ballet Modern AU

The March sisters grew up tripping over dance bags and discarded ballet slippers. Piano music and counts of eight were the soundtrack of their childhoods, ever since Meg first joined the ballet class at their local dance studio, every sister following her soon after. Careful Meg, spirited Jo, delicate Beth, and artful Amy all found their place along that barre, different tempers and styles united by effort and a love of dance.

Ballet brought them closer, brought them friends - most notably Theodore Laurence, Jo's partner and best friend - and even brought them their futures. All of them incredibly talented and dedicated, it was no surprise when the four sisters each found their way in the world of ballet.

Meg surprised everyone when, though gifted enough to pursue a profissional dancing career, she settled into a teaching position at the studio they'd all attended, happy to instead pursue what had captured her heart from the very beginning. None shocked more than Jo, however, who got as far as being offered a contract from a prestigious ballet company, but turned it down and turned away from dancing all together, pivoting into academics and other passions, seeking to make her own mark in the world. Beth remained in the studio, but fell in love with the music instead of the steps, finding an inclination for the piano in the corner of the room, and a talent for it unmatched among her artistic possibilities. It was only the youngest, Amy, who'd dreamed of becoming a prima ballerina since first stepping foot in a ballet class, that followed those dreams all the way to her place at a professional ballet company.

Though they'd all loved it, Amy was the one who'd wanted it, wanted it all, had ambition for it beyond the passion. She didn't only want to dance - she wanted to be great. That ambition carried her through her apprenticeship, through the corps, through being one of many and feeling like she'd never be good enough to stand out, all the way through to one of the coveted soloist positions. At last, a chance to be seen, to be exceptional! A chance she wasn't going to give up that easily, not even when she was cast opposite Theodore Laurence for the company's production of Firebird.

Laurie had been the closest friend of the March sisters, once. And though he'd cared for them all, Jo was definitely his favorite. She was his partner, his best friend, his beloved. And when she'd abandoned dance, she'd left him too. He'd envisioned them working side by side forever, spending their lives together. But that wasn't what Jo saw. It wasn't what she wanted. Though they'd always fit together so well, they couldn't understand each other in this, not really. So, Jo went on, and Laurie did too, signing with the furthest company that would have him, determined to forget all about Jo, and about their childhood.

Amy and Laurie had not seen each other for years. They'd gone on to different companies, in different cities, and only now, by chance, did they find themselves in the same place, Amy just promoted, and Laurie just hired. Though she was still new and eager to prove herself, he'd been a soloist at his previous company for some time, had grown comfortable and complacent in his position. The two had been pleased to see each other again after so long, if not also surprised, and it could've been fair to assume they would've worked perfectly well together, if not for that difference in their careers and dispositions.

Dancing Katerina, Amy was working hard every day to be great, yet also constantly feeling the sting of second best. Laurie's attitude was no help, either. As Ivan, he had a principal role and every advantage and talent one could have, but he seemed intent on wasting it, going through the motions every rehearsal and putting in only the bare minimum in his performance. He had lost his passion for dancing, carrying on mostly out of habit and duty, but he hadn't felt the same ever since Jo left. And Amy, in his arms, couldn't help but feel like a poor substitute.

The pair had been friends for years, before. Even clashing during rehearsals, they did get along well now, managed to become closer than before and have fun together. But this wasn't something they could move past. Amy finally had enough of it. She couldn't bear to see Laurie waste it all like this, throw away everything he had, while she was fighting for every opportunity. He wouldn't work with her, and he wouldn't work for himself. She came very close to quitting the production.

Amy had always been powered by her ambitions, but deterred by the knowledge of how hard it was to succeed in this business. If there was something she couldn't get past, if this was the best she'd ever get, if she'd only reach second tier, only ever good enough, and never great, then what was the point?

Surprisingly, however, Laurie heard her. Amy made him see what he'd been avoiding for years. He knew what he was doing. He knew he was wrong. He just didn't want to face his own pain, didn't want to change, to grow up, to truly leave it behind. But he also knew he had to. If he wanted to keep going, he couldn't be dragged back by the past.

And then there was her. He and Amy had become so close through the course of rehearsals. She had been the one to wake him up, and to see there's a future beyond Jo, to make him start to love dancing again. He desperately didn't want her to quit the show, to quit him. He wanted to be there, to be better for her, wanted to dance with her, wanted to be the partner she deserved.

Laurie committed. He showed up, for Amy, every rehearsal and every show after that. More than that, he worked hard on it, not just for her, but because he'd begun to feel passionate about dancing again. And in his revival, he made Amy feel it too. Though she'd never abandon her dreams, seeing Laurie like this made her remember why she loved dancing in the first place. Not just to be a prima, not just to be great, but to be an artist.

The two of them, dancing together, managed to get past complacency, past ambition, past insecurities. They managed to dance, to create something beautiful, to fall in love with it all over again. They managed to fall in love.

Amy and Laurie made each other better. They inspired each other, captured one another's hearts. They danced together, and together they shined.