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#modern!laszlo
shrutithemisfit · 11 months
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MY HAPPY PILLS
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morguevampire · 6 months
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Daniel Brühl for Festival Lumière 2023 ©️ Olivier Chassignole
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lorna-d-m · 5 months
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Gingerbread
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Word Count: 4,870
Rating: E
Warning: wine drinking, swearing, breast play, some dry humping
Author's Note: happy thanksgiving! Now that it's passed I can officially say: Merry Christmas y'all! Timeline wise, this takes place between chapters six and seven.
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Alice missed the days of elementary school when the last day before winter break was reserved for nostalgic movies, hot chocolate, and wearing your pajamas to school. Instead, students completed their end-of-term exams. Instead of relaxing, kicking up her feet and putting on a movie, she graded first periods’ exams during second, and so on and so on. Those who finished before the end of the period could read or study for another exam. 
Stevie approached her desk, and she looked up assuming he had a question about the exam. Instead, he handed her a small envelope and whispered so quietly she could hardly hear him, “Merry Christmas, Ms. Greene”. Stevie turned on his heels and returned to his desk.
Curiosity piqued, Alice examined the envelope. She would recognize Stevie’s handwriting, so she assumed it must be Laszlo who scrawled her name on the front of the envelope. Alice noted the fancy stationery: the thick off-white envelope with a red wax seal. 
It was a simple but elegant Christmas card depicting a winter scene. Before she read it, she looked at the gift card tucked inside. It was for her favorite coffee chain and $15, plenty for two drinks or a drink and a snack. Inside the card, Laszlo wrote a brief thank you, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays. He signed, as well as Stevie. 
Stevie watched her open the card. Not wanting to distract any students or draw too much attention, Alice mouthed thank you to him. She wondered if any other of Stevie’s teachers received a card. When she checked her phone at lunch, Bits answered her question. 
Nice Christmas gifts from the good doc 🎄🎁 I’m assuming you’ll get more than a card from him? 😏😉
Alice chuckled, knowing all the innuendos Bitsy meant with a simple wink and smirk emoji combination. They made plans for Saturday when Stevie was supposed to be hanging out at a friend’s house.
Oh hush you 🤫A lady doesn’t kiss and tell
She went back to grading, worrying if the gifts she bought him were enough. Saying he was difficult to shop for felt like a lame excuse, but Alice couldn’t think of anything else to get him. Unless… well she supposed it was more of a purchase for her, but he would certainly appreciate it.
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Laszlo deliberated for two days about what to cook for dinner. It was not his first time cooking for Alice, but it was his first time in his kitchen amongst all his tools and familiarity. The expectations were higher. He wanted to do something delicious for her, showing her how much he cared for her. Once decided, he went to the markets in the morning. It was his guilty pleasure. Laszlo enjoyed carefully perusing all his options and leisurely strolling around. He could never stick to a list; he always bought things he didn’t need but decided at the moment he wanted. 
He returned, carefully holding a brown paper grocery bag to his chest. Stevie stood over the stove, cooking a late-morning breakfast of eggs and toast. Laszlo had to tease him as he slipped into a winter break sleep schedule. 
“Good morning. Any later and I would tell you good afternoon.” 
“Ha ha,” Stevie laughed dryly. “I’ve never heard that one before.” 
Laszlo unpacked his groceries and handed a party-size bag of chips to Stevie. “For tonight,” Laszlo thought it rude to go to someone’s house emptyhanded. “Do you need a ride or is Jake picking you up?”
“He said he’d pick me up at like four, and then…” Stevie trailed off, but Laszlo waited expectedly. “I was going to ask you how late I could stay.”
Curfew was, Laszlo didn’t like to call it a debate, but a matter of discussion. On school nights Laszlo stuck to 9:30, wanting Stevie home at a reasonable time. On weekends, however, he was more flexible. So long as Stevie was transparent about his plans, telling him where he wanted to go and who he would be with, Laszlo was willing to adjust the time. 
Laszlo trusted Stevie and he had yet to disappoint him, but for emergencies and peace of mind, they had each other’s location shared on their phones. It went both ways, Laszlo could see if Stevie was at school, home, or a friend’s house, and Stevie could see if he was at the university, the Institute, the police station, or the courts. As a show of faith, Laszlo told him he would only check if he had a legitimate concern or cause. He had yet to check, knock on wood. 
And of course, if Laszlo coincidentally had plans with Alice the same night, then perhaps Stevie could stay with his friends a bit longer.
“That depends,” Laszlo huffed a sigh in thought, “Will he be dropping you off, or will I pick you up?” 
Stevie didn’t bother to plate his food or sit at the table. He stood at the counter, scooping the scrambled eggs onto a piece of sourdough toast with his wooden spoon. At least he didn’t create many dishes… Stevie answered with a mouthful, “He can drop me off.” 
Perfect. “How does eleven sound then? Take it as an early Christmas present.” Then Laszlo could enjoy more time with Alice. “And text me when you’re on your way back.” That way they had a reminder when she needed to leave. 
“Thanks!” Stevie was a quick eater, a result of his childhood, and already he finished his breakfast. After cleaning the few dishes he used, he went back to his room.
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Alice pressed her lips into a thin line in focus. It was an unconscious habit as she piped details on gingerbread cookies in royal icing: delicate buttons to the little men, twinkling lights on the trees, and fine lines on the snowflakes. Flour and icing smeared her cheek and dusted her clothes, and she was sweating from the residual heat of the oven. 
The timer on her phone startled her, making her smear the line of the snowflake. She cursed and set the cookie aside. Alice didn’t want to give Laszlo an ugly cookie. And, she sighed while brushing away an errant lock of hair, she didn’t want to look like an ugly cookie either. The timer reminded her to step back and start getting ready.
After hearing Laszlo had no Christmas plans, other than little celebrations with Stevie since John and Sara were on a much-needed vacation, Alice wanted to make sure their night was perfect. She debated what to wear, settling on a red low-cut sweater and a tight skirt. Classic, but enticing, and she could show off one of her gifts for Laszlo.
***
Alice parked on the street and waited in her toasty car. It was her first time visiting Laszlo’s house. She pulled out her phone, and rather than text Laszlo that she arrived, she typed a message for Bitsy.
Oh shit. He’s rich rich 💰
Bitsy responded quickly. oh??? 👀👀That’s good because you need to marry rich you’re a teacher
She took a picture of the front of the brownstone house and sent it. That should tell Bitsy all she needed to know. Then, she texted Laszlo that she had arrived. Taking a deep breath in, she left the coziness of her car and braved the cold night air. 
The front door was off street level; it was up a set of stairs. Alice was careful, her hand gliding over the railing as she ascended them. The last thing she wanted was to slip on icy steps: embarrassing herself and ruining her hard work that afternoon or Laszlo’s gifts. Before she could knock on the old brass knocker or ring the decorative doorbell, Laszlo opened the door. 
He radiated warmth, and not just because of the heat escaping the house. Laszlo wore a white apron over his clothes, a lock of hair fell across his forehead, his sleeve was rolled up, and he smelled like the delicious food he cooked. It made Alice’s stomach growl and her heart flutter. 
“Please, come in. You can put your coat there,” he gestured to a coat rack in the corner of the vestibule and took the platter of cookies from her hands, “and I can take these to the kitchen.”
He had a vestibule and a foyer beyond that. Alice knew he had money, but she did not realize how much until she saw his home. She shed her coat, and she caught Laszlo’s eyes appreciating the neckline of her sweater just as she intended. 
“I’m afraid I haven’t quite finished, but please, feel free to wait in the parlor and nibble on the cheese board while I return downstairs.”
“Your kitchen is downstairs?” Alice almost asked “you have a parlor?” but that was a less pressing matter.
Laszlo chuckled. “Yes, it’s an old house, so the garage, kitchen, and ironically Stevie’s room are all street level. I promise I won’t be long.”
“Good,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’m hungry and I’ll miss you.” 
His cheeks flushed, and he kissed her properly. “Then I won’t keep you waiting.” He disappeared down the stairs, readjusting the apron tied around his waist. Alice admired his ass as he left. 
Alice did as Laszlo suggested and wandered to the parlor. She nibbled on a cracker with brie and thinly sliced apple while she surveyed the room. A heavy, ornate fireplace warmed the room, and she relished its heat. Her sweater and skirt did little to keep her warm. Alice noticed there were no pictures on the mantle, just a television mounted on the wall. It was one of the fancy ones disguised as a landscape painting, complete with a gilded frame. 
Two bookshelves bookended the fireplace, and Alice skimmed through the titles. Some she recognized, like classic novels, whereas the psychological essays and journals were far from her realm of familiarity. Where did he find the time to read, she mused. A record player nestled in the corner, made to look like a vintage gramophone, filled the room with traditional Christmas music. Alice hummed along to the familiar song. Laszlo was a maximalist, filling his home with as much as he could in his eclectic style.
Alice heard footsteps coming up the stairs, so she went to the formal dining room. As she wondered how often Laszlo and Stevie ate there, he answered her silent question.
“We rarely use it, but I wanted tonight to be special.” 
“Please, let me help you,” she offered. Laszlo held a heavy tray laden with plates and bowls with one hand.
“There’s no need,” he insisted, setting it on the table.  “It’s part of why we don’t use the dining room very often.”
“I can imagine, but it looks lovely, Laszlo.” He dressed up the space with formal dinnerware and linens. He lit a candelabra on the table, and pitchers of water and bottles of wine waited to be poured. 
“Thank you.” He blushed again, clearly unused to praise. Alice wanted to make the tinge of pink darker. 
“You’ve put in so much effort, and I appreciate it. You’ve made tonight special and memorable, and we’ve barely begun.” 
Laszlo returned downstairs for the rest of the meal, and Alice stole a glance at what he brought up already. A basket of dinner rolls, small bowls of soup, and salads. This was meant to be the appetizer, and she wondered eagerly what the main course could be. With perfect timing, he brought the entrée: roasted vegetables, seared duck breast with a red wine sauce, and creamy mashed potatoes. 
Once everything was settled on the table, Laszlo could settle himself. He removed his apron revealing a white button-up and a Christmas-themed waistcoat: dark green with white detailing and gold buttons. Laszlo pulled out her seat for her, and then he poured them both a glass of water and a glass of red wine.  
“Please, enjoy. There’s plenty.” He offered her the basket of warm dinner rolls glistening with butter.
Laszlo was an excellent cook, and she was excited to try it. He waited until she tasted it and smiled before he ate anything.  
Over dinner, they reminisced on past Christmases: best presents, worst presents, family drama, vacations. Alice thought long and hard about the best present she ever received and decided it must have been when she got a Barbie dreamhouse. She knew what it was as soon as she saw the gigantic wrapped box by the tree, but her parents made her wait until the end to unwrap it. Laszlo smiled saying he had something similar happen when his parents bought the baby grand piano for the parlor.
“Do you play?” She noticed it, but the keys were covered and the music books were nowhere in sight. If he did, he left no clues. 
“No,” he frowned, “not since I was a young boy.”
Alice didn’t want to upset him, so she did not press it. She found it odd since he was the one who mentioned the piano, to begin with, but this was a happy night. From then on, Laszlo was more inclined to listen to her than share his memories. 
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Alice insisted upon helping him clean up after the meal, and Laszlo found it hard to refuse her. He enjoyed simply being near her, and he admitted it was easier with an extra set of hands. Laszlo rinsed the dishes from dinner while Alice unloaded the dishwasher. 
“I wasn’t sure about making Christmas cookies,” Alice confessed.
Laszlo raised an eyebrow in playful alarm. “Why ever not? Your cookies are delectable.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m a one trick pony. You’ve had my cookies before at open house and the conferences, so I thought I should show you something new.”
“But they’re delicious, and I presume gingerbread to fit the season. I’ve not tasted those.”
“Which is why I went with it. You can really only do gingerbread this time of year. But I think next time, I’ll make something totally different.”
“I look forward to it.” Since his hands were covered with soapy water, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Speaking of dessert, do you want it now or do you want to wait?”
Alice smirked. “Well, if dessert is a real kiss, I want it now.” 
How could he refuse? Laszlo kissed her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Alice pinned him against the counter, and since her hands were dry she ran them through his hair and rested them at the back of his neck. Laszlo leaned into her touch.
Abruptly, Alice ended their kiss. She stayed close to him, pressed to him. “But if dessert is the cookies, they can wait until we’re watching a movie on the couch.” Laszlo hardly understood what she said. He was too distracted by the way Alice kissed him. She giggled, clearly amused by his love-drunk expression, and smiled. “Come on,” she teased, “let’s finish this up.” Laszlo did not need any more encouragement. 
***
They set out all their gifts on the coffee table along with the platter of cookies and two mugs of hot chocolate. Laszlo insisted on preparing it for them, his recipe using dark chocolate and rich milk to create the most decadent drink. Stevie preferred the instant Swiss Miss powder, no doubt due to his unrefined palette, and Alice surprised Laszlo by asking for a sprinkle of cinnamon and nutmeg. Curious, he had to try it for himself.
Alice shivered once on the couch, so Laszlo found the red knit blanket he kept in the living room and draped it over her shoulders. She looked comfortable like she belonged there.
“Can I go first?” Alice volunteered, “My gifts for you require a little bit of explanation.”
“Well now you must. You’ve piqued my curiosity.”
She handed him one slim box, one wrapped present that could only be a book by its shape and size, and a flat, rectangular box. All were wrapped in delicate blue and white snowflake wrapping paper and finished with silver bows. Laszlo reached for the smallest box first. He tore the paper at the tape and lifted the lid from the box. It was a black and gold fountain pen, weighted in his hand.
“It’s supposed to be smear proof. All the reviews said it was left hand certified.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.” He reached for the book next, sliding his thumb under the edge of the wrapping paper. It was a well-read, well-loved paperback copy of her favorite book. Laszlo glanced at her before skimming through the pages. 
“We talked about books before, and how a person’s favorite book can tell you a lot about them, so I thought I would give you my favorite filled with all my thoughts and annotations.” It was a deeply personable gift. Laszlo was shocked, and he immediately tried to give it back to her. “I already bought myself another copy, please, keep it.”
The final present was a rich golden-colored cable knit sweater. Laszlo held it up, modeling what it would look like, and he saw her eyes light up. He would have to wear more gold…
“I had to guess your size, so I put the receipt in the box in case you need to return it or exchange it. But I thought the gold would suit you, and I see I was right.”
“Thank you, darling.” He kissed her cheek again. Laszlo enjoyed seeing her cheeks flush whenever he did. “It’s all so thoughtful.”
“Technically,” Alice said with a sly grin, “there’s one more gift, but you’ll have to wait to unwrap it.”
“Oh?” Laszlo checked the coffee table wondering how he missed it. Alice nodded, removed the blanket from her shoulders, and sat up straight, pushing her plentiful chest out. “Oh!”
Intentionally, her sweater slipped off her shoulder exposing a touch of lace. His eyes followed the movement. “It’s more of an investment, I think, but mutually beneficial.”
“Certainly,” he agreed, unconsciously licking his lips. 
“But not yet.” Alice fixed her sweater and re-wrapped the blanket. Laszlo blinked twice, refocusing on the moment. She knew how to tease him, draw him in, and turn his head all around. It was maddening and enthralling. He thought carefully about the order in which to give his gifts to her. Start small.
“The poinsettias on the table are yours to keep, so long as you keep them away from Georgie. I read they’re not good for cats, so put them somewhere high and out of reach for him.”
“They’re gorgeous, Laszlo, and I appreciate the research. All the other flowers you’ve given me have been Georgie safe, so I’ll have to find somewhere special for these.”
Next was a little gift bag filled with imported German chocolates, the best in his opinion, and cat treats for Georgie. Treats for both of them, he explained, with a sheepish smile at the pun. These were all small gifts, trivial really, but they all brought a smile to her face. It was time to step it up. He handed her a slim, unmarked envelope with two tickets to the Nutcracker, on Christmas Eve no less. 
Alice’s eyes glittered. “I thought this had been sold out for months! How did you get these?”
“I have a box, so I get the first pick of any tickets…” he trailed off. He always bought at least two tickets. In years past, he would take John, Stevie, or John and Sara and play the third wheel. This year, Laszlo would have a date. 
“Fuck off,” Alice said indelicately, but still alluringly to him. “You have a box?”
“I do,” he snickered, “It was my family’s before it became mine.”
“That’s incredible.” She still held the tickets in her hand, looking them over and over. His eyes met hers, a silent question. What are you thinking? “Honestly, I’m trying to think if I have an outfit worthy of this.”
“Whatever you wear, I’m sure it will be divine, and I hope you pair it with this.” He slid his final present over to her: a small jewelry box. 
Tentatively, she set the tickets down and picked up the box. It wasn’t wrapped; Laszlo thought the black velvet spoke for itself. Now he feared it was too much too soon. Jewelry set certain expectations. It announced intention. 
“Oh, Laszlo.” Her thumb rubbed along the edge of the box, and she tilted the necklace and earrings toward the light. “It’s- I don’t know what to say other than thank you.” Alice’s wide eyes met his, and he thought he saw the shadow of a tear.
“Darling, what’s wrong?” The troublesome tear slipped down her cheek when he asked, and more threatened to follow. Given the nature of his work, Laszlo was accustomed to tears, but he did not know what to do when Alice cried.
“You’ve done so much and given me such wonderful gifts,” she tried to steady her voice but was unsuccessful, “and I’m worried I didn’t do enough.”
“Don’t say that,” he rushed to assure her. In the unspoken silence, Laszlo sensed her true fear was that she wasn’t enough. He struggled for words, so he took her hand in his and squeezed it. “You have given me plenty.”
Alice smiled, tears still in her eyes, and nodded to herself. “Thank you, Laszlo, just-” she paused again, registering her hand in his, “Thank you.”
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After Alice dried her tears, embarrassed she cried but comforted by Laszlo’s words, they dimmed the lights and turned on a movie. All playful bickering about what to watch stopped when Alice spotted an old stop-motion classic about the year without Santa Claus. She had not seen it in years, but she vividly remembered the song with heat miser and snow miser. Laszlo chuckled and indulged her, selecting the movie and letting the opening credits play. 
She cuddled up next to Laszlo, his arm across her shoulders, and she shared her blanket with him. Alice leaned her head on his chest, and he rested his chin at the top of her head. She was comforted by his slow and steady breathing. Laszlo was a rock: steady and reliable under her. 
Both their hands wandered, appreciative and lingering touches, until the movie was forgotten and Laszlo encouraged her to sit on his lap. Alice hesitated, biting her tongue at a quip about being more than he could handle, but he was insistent and unflinching. She straddled his lap, her already short skirt rising up even further, teasing him with the tops of her thighs. 
“There you are,” Laszlo crooned. He looked less perfect and more like a person. Toussled hair, pink cheeks, sly smile. Alice adored him like this. His hand circled her waist and pulled her closer, eliminating any space between them. His kiss tasted of their drink, rich chocolate with a touch of spice. Alice melted into his touch. Laszlo panted, whining into her mouth as he felt her chest pressing against him.
His hand slipped under the knit of her red sweater and traced the skin underneath. His fingers danced over the clasp of her new bra, her gift just for him to unwrap, asking her permission before advancing any further. She broke their kiss and nodded, a quiet “I want this” escaping her lips. Laszlo needed no more encouragement, and he deftly undid the clasp. She pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Her nipples pebbled in the sudden chill, and Laszlo was quick to latch himself to her. 
He took one into his mouth, lavishing it with attention, while he cupped her other breast with his hand. Laszlo did not want it to feel unappreciated as he nipped, licked, and pinched. Alice moaned his name and wriggled her hips against him, craving more in the heady heat of the moment. “I want to see you,” she huffed. 
Laszlo paused and drew back. A trail of saliva connected them, and Alice brushed it away with her thumb. “I’m all yours,” he murmured.
Alice hastily unfastened the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt, cursing him for wearing so many layers, but grateful for them too. Laszlo looked good in his layers, coordinated and well-put-together, but she wanted to see underneath his careful clothing choices.  Alice feasted her eyes on a broad chest, dusted with coarse hair and fine freckles, leading down to his soft stomach. Laszlo tipped his head back and groaned when she trailed her hand down his chest.
“Much better.” Pleased, Alice touched Laszlo’s chin and brought his attention back. His eyes were hazy, as if he’d drunk more than a glass of wine, as he studied her form. Laszlo ran an appreciative hand across her body: cupping her breast, holding her waist, and resting on her ass. He kissed her again, his lips wandering from her lips to her jaw, and her collarbone. 
“Laszlo, I-” His phone, forgotten on the coffee table, rang and interrupted her. She turned, glancing at the caller ID, and handed it to him. “It’s Stevie, he’s probably on his way home.”
Laszlo answered and held the phone to his ear. Alice was somewhat relieved he called. She wasn’t sure how much further they were going to go, and she was nervous to broach the topic. This was a natural end to the evening. When she went to move off his lap, he held her there with his right hand. Not firmly, but the surprising and warm touch was enough to keep her there. She slipped her hand over his.
Alice waited until he hung up to speak. “I think it’s time for me to go, Las.” 
“Please, darling, five more minutes.” His hips ground against hers, and his voice was as enticingly sweet as honey. 
“Five minutes, my final Christmas present for you,” she teased.
His lips reattached to hers, and his hand groped her breast. Her hips continued above him, and Laszlo followed every one of her movements. 
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Hindered by Laszlo’s request, but hastened by his assistance to redress, Alice left without issue. She promised to text him when she arrived home safe and sound, and he reminded her what time they would leave for the Nutcracker. Laszlo waited for Stevie to return in the kitchen, hoping to ask about his evening before locking the front door and going to bed. 
“Hey,” Stevie entered through the more hidden ground-level door that connected through the garage. He preferred the direct access rather than messing with the front door. It was part of why he chose to live downstairs.
“How was it?” 
“Good,” he shrugged, “Caleb got a new game for us to play, so it took a while to figure out the rules, but it was fun.”
“Did they enjoy the chips?”
“Yeah, yeah, they did.” Stevie glanced at the sink, empty apart from two mugs of hot chocolate. “How was your evening?” 
One mug was still smeared with lipstick, and panic shot through Laszlo. Did he have any of her lipstick on his face? He wished he checked a mirror instead of presuming he looked okay. Laszlo flustered, thinking on the spot.
“Fine. Some people from the psychology department came over for dinner, part of a new tradition they’re trying to start.”
Stevie poured himself a glass of water and stood in front of the fridge. “That’s cool. Any leftovers? ”
“What? They didn’t feed you over there?” Laszlo chuckled, relieved by the change in subject.
“They did, but I’m still hungry. Growing boy and all.” Stevie ate a dinner roll without bothering to microwave it. 
Laszlo rolled his eyes. Ah, the youth. “Goodnight, and don’t forget to lock up.”
“Already did.”
Laszlo meant it when he said, “Good kid.”
***
Two days later, Laszlo picked Alice up from her apartment with a bouquet of pale pink roses. She wore a simple, elegant black dress and shawl. Underneath her silver shawl, Laszlo spotted the simple necklace he gave her and more than one purple hickey. He felt a sense of satisfaction seeing his work.
They arrived early to the theater and worked slowly through the crowds. People acknowledged him — former clients or students — and he stopped for a moment to chat with some of them. His chest puffed up with pride, talking to them with a woman as wonderful as Alice on his arm. She shimmered under the chandeliers.
Finally, Laszlo brought her to his box on the upper level. Alice whispered in his ear she always wondered what the view from the boxes was like rather than general admission. Laszlo promised to take her to more shows in the coming year. They enjoyed the show, her hand clasped in his, and her shawl slipping off her shoulders.
Laszlo asked if she was hungry, too, when they left the theater. Sheepishly, Alice confessed she was. He swung by a fast-food joint, one of the only things open at the late hour on Christmas Eve, and ordered fries and milkshakes. After their midnight snack, they made out like teenagers in the front seat. It was a complete contrast to the formality of their evening, but it was the perfect way to end the night.
taglist: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @hardlyinteresting @sapphiredreamer26 @aedeluca @alycu1 @linkpk88 @rachreads @fandom-princess-forevermore @groovyponypatrollamp @to-fat-to-give-a-crap @kateris-world @eli-the-thinker
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eternalwyrm · 2 years
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of all things. of all things so far that they could’ve made baby colin robinson. they made him a fucking theatre kid.
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kaydenunderthesea · 8 months
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/LOUD SOBBING
GUYS…I DID IT
I FINALLY FUCKING DID IT
I MET TOM KENNY TODAY
SOMEONE GAVE HIM A JAR OF CROCHET PICKLES AND OMG HE LOVED IT SO MUCH
“No Patrick the lid” HE SAID IN SPONGEBOBS VOICE
HE DID A COUPLE OF VOICES LIKE ICE KING AND HEFFER AND I REQUESTED SLAPPY VOICE AND
I-
I CAN FINALLY DIE HAPPY NOW
/note
Please excuse my shirt casually hanging out of my hoodie and my fat ass in advance lmao
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spongebob-connoisseur · 8 months
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i truly and honestly admire your dedication to slappy laszlo from spongebob it's like nothing ive seen before (positive) it has given me motivation to watch the newer seasons of sb and watch the patrick star show
AHHHH!✨ NEW FOLLOWER FOR THE SLAPPY CULT‼‼‼‼💕💕💕💕
Welcome! There will be bugs! Beetle juice! and live executions!
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Also here's a little something something for ya <3
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shawolsos · 2 months
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Every BL/GL ship has a government assigned sitcom couple variant, sorry, I don’t make the rules, it is just the way of the multiverse
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the-cricket-chirps · 9 months
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Fotogram, untitled
László Moholy-Nagy
Bauhaus Dessau
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twwcs · 2 years
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via chefharoldquitiann | instagram
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f1yogurt · 2 years
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Ok but the amount that I need a disheveled modern Laszlo looking up at me like this
original gifs
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I miss S01 Nadja when her looks were more... I don't know? Subtle? I liked the simpler hair with the occasional little horns. I feel like now it's a little too over the top
I still think she's perfect and her dresses are always so, so beautiful, but I liked when she was more gothic-like
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thegeekyartist · 2 years
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About to start researching some old paintings to make even more intro-worthy art of our favorite vampires.
A BIGGER question would be: what kind of art would be made of vampire Guillermo?
Would he get a Chuck Close style portrait? Jenny Saville? Would he get a bright and saturated portrait in the style of the Instagram painters? Would he be made into a pop surrealist lowbrow piece? I HAVE to know.
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lorna-d-m · 6 months
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Chapter Six: Communication
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Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!OC (Alice Greene)
Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a workaholic. Between teaching university courses, running the Kreizler Institute, and minding Stevie -his ward-, he does not have time for relationships. That is until he meets Ms. Greene, Stevie's English teacher, at open house. Can he open his heart to the possibility of love?
Word Count: 4,060
W: mentions of bullying/hazing, sexually suggestive content
A/N: I have been enduring unending struggle after struggle this semester, so I'm sorry this took a while.
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Golden light filtered through Laszlo’s office window. One of Rachmaninov’s symphonies played softly over his computer speaker, and he graded student essays with a fine-tipped red pen. A soft knock on the door broke him from his focus which he did not mind given the poor quality of the writing. Alice stood in the doorway, two coffees in hand, and a smile a mile wide. 
“What a surprise.” He pushed the stack of papers away and leaned back in his chair. 
She shut the heavy door. Her hips shimmied in a way Laszlo knew was meant to entice him. It worked. “I thought you could use a little afternoon pick-me-up.” 
“From you? Always.”
Alice handed Laszlo his coffee, no cream or sugar, and sat on his desk. She crossed her legs, her skirt riding up her thighs, and took a sip from her drink. Laszlo looked up at her, admiring everything he saw, and set his coffee to the side. He didn’t need it when he had her. 
His hand ran along her calf prompting her to re-cross her legs. Laszlo’s eyes flicked back and forth, torn between the mischievous glint in her eye and her plush thighs. Alice leaned down, her chest eye level with him, and cupped one of his cheeks with her hand. Her fingers played with his beard, and he nuzzled into her touch. He took a deep breath smelling her floral perfume, his forgotten coffee, and the old books in his office. Divine.  
She kissed his forehead, and then she leaned back on the old oak desk. Entranced, Laszlo stood. He was a sunflower yearning for the sun. She spread her legs, and he stood between her thighs clasping her waist. Standing, he was a touch taller than her, changing the angle between them. He kissed her, tasting the cinnamon sweetness on her tongue, and searching for more. 
“Oh, Laszlo,” she pulled away from his kiss, but her hand laid on his chest over his heart. “Are you sure? Anyone could come into your office, and I would hate for us to be interrupted.” Alice played coy, but Laszlo knew better. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“Darling, you’ll be the only one coming in my office today. I promise.”
Laszlo pushed down the turtleneck of her sweater and kissed her neck. Impulsively, he wanted to leave a mark she would need to hide with another sweater. He cupped her breast, feeling the faint outline of lace under the knit, and he tugged on her sweater. It came loose from being tucked into her skirt, and he moved his hand under it. His thumb grazed the delicate lace, and he let out an appreciative chuckle.
“Please, Laszlo” she whispered in his ear, “more.”  
He clicked his tongue. “Greedy girl, aren’t you? Patience, and I will give you more.” Laszlo sank to his knees, and he guided her glorious thighs over his shoulders. He tugged at her lace underwear, and he wondered if it matched her bra. Alice giggled above him and wove her fingers into his hair, pulling him ever closer, not that he needed any encouragement. He lazily kissed each of her thighs, intent on leaving marks there too—
Laszlo woke with a start. Sweat clung to his flushed skin and shirt despite the late fall chill in his room. He was sticky with precome and tangled in the sheets. Laszlo groaned and ran a hand through his bedraggled hair. He didn’t need a doctorate in psychology to know the meaning of a sex dream. 
A cool breeze blew the long linen curtains, and a pale morning light filled the room. Glancing at his alarm clock, because he preferred the old-fashioned alarm clock to his phone, he knew he had a few minutes. For a moment, he thought about finishing the fantasy. Laszlo could easily imagine the ending, lapping at her until his beard was soaked with her, but he hesitated. 
With a groan that Stevie would certainly tease and call “an old man’s groan”, Laszlo left his comfortable bed. He rummaged through his bedside drawer for the pack of cigarettes he unsuccessfully hid from himself and shrugged on his warm robe. Laszlo didn’t have sex, but he still craved a cigarette. Only one, he promised himself, then he would shower and dress for the day. 
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“Cheers!” Bitsy and Alice clinked their glasses together. Adorable, tiny rubber ducks floated in their mimosas, and despite the restaurant’s warning about a dollar charge for taking the ducklings, both women fully intended to slip them into their purses before leaving. 
“It feels like forever since I saw you! How was your trip?” Alice set her phone to the side and clasped her hands in front of her. A few weeks back during one of their planning periods, Bitsy booked the excursion. Alice joked she was planning, just not lessons or teaching. Over the three-day fall break, Bitsy and Lucius went upstate to a bed and breakfast, with the best reviews and amenities. 
“Amazing,” she sighed dramatically. “I’m so glad we did it. You know how everyone talks about going somewhere to see the leaves change colors and go apple picking?”
Alice grinned, imagining the leisurely autumnal weekend. “Yes, of course.”
Bitsy spilled all the details while they waited for their food. They took a gorgeous vintage-styled train upstate much to Lucius’s delight. She showed pictures and videos of the views and laughed recounting their apple-picking and cider-making misadventures. Apparently, both were more difficult than they seemed. Their bed and breakfast was a quaint cottage with a main hall for meals, and a precious elderly couple hosting. She raved about the cider donuts Linda made and passed the recipe along to Alice. 
“And you? How are things with the doctor? Or does he prefer the professor?”
“Please, you know I call him Laszlo.”
“Uh-huh, I just like to tease you, and by default him. So, how are things with you and Laszlo?” The waitress brought over their food, so Alice waited until they were settled to answer. 
“Well, without getting my hopes up,” Bitsy rolled her eyes, “it’s wonderful.” Alice blushed and not because of the mimosa. 
On their first date, he picked her up from her apartment with a bouquet of camellias. As soon as she commented they were cat-safe flowers, meaning she could place them on the coffee table without worrying about Georgie eating them, Laszlo produced a bag of cat treats from his coat pocket. He didn’t want Georgie to feel left out, he explained. Alice noted his thoughtfulness and attention to detail. 
Laszlo took her to dinner, as he promised at the conference, at Delmonico’s. Alice had never been, but Laszlo assured her it was his favorite restaurant. She could tell when the owner and the waitstaff greeted him by name, asking if he wanted his usual table, and bringing a complimentary bottle of wine. Alice was prepared to pay for her meal, but Laszlo insisted saying he should since he invited her.
Alice gently moved her drink from side to side to see the rubber duck move. “It feels silly to say, but I think we’re courting rather than dating.” 
“I guess that’s what happens when you date an older man,” Bitsy giggled, taking another sip of her drink.
“Shut up,” Alice couldn’t hold back a laugh either, “you know I have a type, but I’m serious. He’s been such a gentleman. Like he always brings me flowers or chocolates or coffee or something. And he brings something for Georgie too, I swear he has more toys and treats than I’ve ever bought him.”
“So how has he topped your first date?”
 Alice responded when she finished chewing her latest bite. Her sandwich was almost too good to put down, but she wanted to answer. “We’ve done a few more dinners, some after an event or some just because that’s what we could schedule. You know that cute little art museum a few blocks from here? We did that and had lunch last weekend, and he wants to go to the history museum soon too.”
“Wow, the history museum. Sexy.”
“You’re laughing, but it’s so sexy when he reads the little placards and stands there analyzing it, rubbing his beard in thought. Then he asks me what I think and we talk about it before moving on. And, Bits, museums mean he always dresses nice, too, like suits or sweaters.”
“Listen babe, I tease you, but you seem genuinely so happy. Better than I’ve seen you in months, easily. It sounds like he treats you well, and he should continue to do so if he knows what’s good for him.”
“He does, he really does. Did I tell you what happened when we left the art museum?”
“No, what?”
“Well, I stupidly didn’t check the weather that morning when I got ready, but obviously he did because he brought this giant umbrella. Laszlo left it in the lobby while we walked around, and of course when we went to leave it was an absolute downpour. The restaurant we wanted to try was only two blocks away, so we planned to walk.”
“Of course,” Bitsy commented between bites.
“So he gets out his umbrella, and it’s big enough for the both of us. Laszlo held it, and we walked arm in arm down the street in the rain. I felt like I was in an old Hollywood movie and we should start singing in the rain.”
“Adorable, and you should have.”
“Well,” Alice demurred, “we were so close together, arm in arm so you know we were kinda pressed against each other. I could smell his cologne, and Bits, I swear to God it felt like pheremones to me. We made out under that umbrella until the rain stopped.”
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Laszlo knew he sounded like a technology-hating curmudgeon, but he preferred calling to texting. Of course, with their busy and ever-changing schedules, texting was far more convenient. However, Laszlo savored anytime Alice called him and he could hear her voice.
Typically, they talked after he ate dinner with Stevie and while she cooked her meal. Laszlo chided her for eating so late, but the timing was convenient. He could slip into his room or his office when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket without arousing undue suspicion. 
“What are you cooking tonight?” Laszlo heard the steady hum of a stovetop ventilation fan and a beeping timer. 
That was another advantage of the phone, or even better, FaceTime. There was so much more ambiance when he could hear or see. Sometimes he could spot Georgie or hear him meowing in the background. Laszlo felt he was there, despite the distance, and he could get a glimpse of her evening. It was almost domestic. 
“Pasta, hence the fan, and some chicken in the oven. I think it’s almost done, but I want to give it a few more minutes to be sure.”  
“Be careful,” he cautioned, “I know you’re worried about undercooking it, but you don’t want dry chicken either.”
“Yes chef,” she teased. “What about you? When are you going to cook for me instead of giving me advice?”
Laszlo leaned against the balcony railing and hummed in thought. He wondered that himself, but he didn’t have an easy answer. “I’m not sure, with Stevie, I-”
“-It’s okay. I would love to have you cook for me sometime, but I know with Stevie it’s more complicated. We can take our time.” 
“I appreciate it. Maybe I could cook for you in your apartment? We could have a nice night in.”
“I’d like that.” 
By now they had a routine. Laszlo would tell her about his day while she ate, and once she finished she would tell him about hers. They laughed at the similarities between her high school freshman and his college freshman. 
“Do you know what I heard today?” His students always assumed he couldn’t hear them, a fallacy of their youth. 
He could hear her setting her dishes in the sink. “What?”
“One of them said I must have ‘gotten laid recently because there wasn’t as much of a stick up my ass’.” Alice snorted, trying not to laugh. “It’s okay; it’s funny. You can laugh.”
“Mine told me something similar, but not like that. They said I must be in ‘looooove’ because I’m smiling more.” 
Laszlo rocked on his heels. “What do you think?”
“I-” she hesitated, and Laszlo instantly regretted his question. He was known for prying and pushing, and he feared it was too soon. 
“-You don’t have to answer that. I shouldn’t have asked-” Laszlo pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyebrows. 
“It’s okay, Laszlo. You didn’t push me too much.” He breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “I wouldn’t say I’m in love, yet, but I know I’m happier. What about you?”
“I feel the same.” Laszlo was glad she couldn’t see his cheesy smile.
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November was chilly, even with a proper jacket. Stevie shivered and waited outside by the car line for Laszlo. Being late was unusual, so after fifteen minutes Stevie texted him. No response. At half an hour, Stevie called him.
On the last ring before going to voicemail, Laszlo picked up the phone. He immediately apologized, saying he didn’t realize what time it was and he was in the middle of an important meeting. 
“Will you be here soon?” Stevie glanced at the already fading sunlight and emptying parking lot. Laszlo paused, and from that alone Stevie knew the truth. “If you can’t, can you send Mr. Moore or Ms. Howard?”
“I need to get back to my meeting. Try Moore first, and again, I’m sorry.” Laszlo hung up quickly, barely giving Stevie time to think. He huffed a sigh and pulled up Moore’s contact information. Stevie decided to text him first: Doc’s in a meeting. Can you pick me up?
As Stevie waited for a response, he rubbed up and down his arm to warm up. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he eagerly checked. I can, but it could be half an hour to forty-five minutes. Is that okay?
Stevie thought it was better than nothing. He texted back that it was alright, and he thanked him. Since there were still cars in the parking lot, Stevie bet there were still teachers or other staff inside the warm building. He wandered down the main hallway, wondering if he should sit right there, in the library, or find an empty classroom. As he debated this, someone called out his name. His head flicked up, trying to find them. 
Ms. Greene stood at the door of the teacher work room with a stack of papers in hand. Stevie relaxed, knowing she wouldn’t get onto him about loitering around the school like some of his other teachers would. 
“What are you still doing here?” She gestured to him with her pack of copy paper. 
“Waiting to be picked up. Doc’s in a meeting so…” Stevie trailed off, not wanting to admit he had been forgotten.
She nodded once, understanding what he said between the lines. “Why don’t you hang out in my room?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you if you were about to head out or anything.”
“Please,” she scoffed, “there’s always something I can be working on. Don’t worry about it.”
Ms. Greene set her stack of papers on her desk and sat at her desk. Stevie slung his backpack off and put it by his desk. He looked around thinking how rarely he saw the room empty. It was normally packed with people, every desk was taken, and Ms. Greene would have to dodge backpacks and lunchboxes to walk around the room. By the end of the day, the desks were crooked and out of place, so Stevie started straightening them up.
“When you finish, do you want to clean them?” Stevie froze, not realizing she was paying attention to him. “There’s Clorox wipes in that cabinet.” 
“Sure, yeah.” Stevie was used to tidying up at the Institue when he was bored or restless, so he continued in her classroom. They talked while he worked making the time pass quicker. She asked about school and what other assignments he was working on in the week. He had a history paper coming up, and they were supposed to do another lab soon in biology. Stevie wasn’t worried about the paper, Laszlo taught him how to write an essay over the summer, but he was nervous about the lab. Biology wasn’t his strongest subject, but he liked Ms. Sussman’s class. 
Stevie crouched to pick up an errant highlighter, and when he heard Coach Connor’s voice cut the momentary silence he stayed where he was. In the corner, behind a group of desks, he wasn’t immediately spotted. He moved so he could see between a crack in the desks and watched.
Ms. Green recoiled, almost retreating into her desk corner. Stevie recognized her discomfort as she crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. Her eyes flicked to where he hid and back to Coach Connor. “What are you doing here?” she questioned.
“I saw your car was still in the parking lot.” What is he stalking her? She stayed quiet prompting him to keep speaking. “I wanted to see if you’d changed your mind since the conferences.”
She sighed, clearly at her wit’s end with him, “Patrick, I said no, and I meant it.”
“Are you sure-”
“-I’m sure. I have a boyfriend now, and I don’t appreciate your insistence. It is not professional or appropriate, especially while at the school.” 
Boyfriend? Stevie wondered if it was Doc. They certainly seemed to hit it off at the open house, and it would explain his weird behavior and change in mood. He would keep observing.
Coach Connor’s face flushed red, he grumbled an apology under his breath, and he turned on his heels. Once assured he was gone, Stevie sheepishly stood up from behind the desks. 
Ms. Greene’s face was in her hands. “I am so sorry about that. I don’t even know what to say…” 
“Don’t worry about it,” Stevie shrugged. “Clearly, you didn’t want him here either.
“I noticed you stayed hidden there. Has he been bothering you, too?”
Stevie sat on the desk, fiddling with the highlighter in his hand. “Yeah, kind of. He’s harder on me in P.E., that kind of thing.” He was quick to reassure her. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Are you sure? He shouldn’t be treating you like that, and I know you don’t want to be a snitch or anything, but it’s important to speak up.”
Stevie knew he should, but he didn’t want to create any problems. Doc was happier, possibly because of Ms. Greene, but this afternoon was a reminder of how much he juggled. Stevie would feel guilty adding anything else. 
In the meantime, he could deal with Coach Connor yelling at him or making him run more laps. He could stomach the football players' stupid jokes and isolation, done on Coach Connor’s orders, no doubt. 
“I’m sure,” he answered.
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While Alice tweaked her slides for the week, Stevie worked on his homework. He sat at his desk for class which she chuckled at. A classroom of empty desks and students will naturally pick their own desks. Alice enjoyed having Stevie there and providing a safe space for him to wait for his ride, but she also wanted to go home. She was tired and slightly cold, and she wanted to change into a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. 
“Hello hello.” Alice looked up from her laptop. A tall, well-dressed man with dark hair paused in the doorway. “John Schuyler Moore, and you must be Ms. Greene if the sign outside your door is correct.” He extended his hand for her to shake, and she took it. 
“Yes, I am. You must be here for Stevie.”
“I am, and hopefully he hasn’t given you too much trouble,” John winked. 
“No, he’s been wonderful-”
“-Oh, you thought I meant Stevie, no, no, I meant Laszlo.” He laughed, and she bit her tongue to keep from doing the same. “You’re the one who has to deal with him as a concerned parent.”
Alice smiled. “He’s been wonderful, too. Very communicative.” 
Stevie packed up his bag slowly, keeping an eye and an ear on their conversation. Alice was conscientious that everything she said was being analyzed. 
“It was so polite of you to let him sit in your classroom. You could’ve gone home an hour ago, enjoyed your evening, and yet here you are.”
Alice didn’t miss the way he said enjoy your evening. It was a clear innuendo that she glossed over. “It was no trouble at all. Stevie’s a good kid, and you’re a good friend to come pick Stevie up.”
“I would do anything for a friend like Laszlo. I’ve known him for almost twenty years, and I know he would do anything for me in return. He’s like that, you know,” John shrugged, “he seems tough, but he would give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it.”
“I’m sure he would.” Heat rushed to her cheeks, briefly imagining Laszlo without a shirt and the dark chest hair she would find there, and she cleared her throat. “Stevie, please, don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. And Mr. Moore, have a good afternoon.”
***
At around nine, Alice got a text from Laszlo. She had just laid down in bed, ready to get warm and comfy for the evening, with a book and a mug of tea. She set her book aside on her nightstand and checked her phone. 
Darling, I am sorry for being so inattentive today, and I want to thank you for letting Stevie stay in your room. I appreciate it. 
Alice’s thumb hesitated over the Facetime button. She hoped Laszlo would pick up and that he didn’t text her and immediately set his phone aside. She didn’t look her best, her hair was pulled back in a messy bun and her face was still red from washing it, but she wanted to see him. 
“Hey Laz,” she smiled at him, but she was concerned. He sat at his desk, dark circles under his eyes, and creases deep in his forehead. She could see a stack of papers spread out in front of him, and he held a fountain pen in his hand. 
Laszlo smiled back at her, and it made her heart skip a beat. “I missed you today,” he drawled. “An emergency case came up, and they needed me at the courthouse and at the juvenile facility, and I have to read all this paperwork for tomorrow morning… But I needed to hear your voice and see your face.”
“Aww,” she blushed, but she knew her face was already red and he probably couldn’t tell. “Thank you, baby. It’s okay to be busy and do what you need to do.” He took a sip of what she assumed was coffee. “I just appreciate a heads up or something if you’re going to be unavailable. I could even plan to keep Stevie for a while or something if you let me know.” 
“That’s very generous of you.”
“But I must say, it was nice to finally meet one of your friends.” Laszlo groaned in embarrassment, and Alice giggled. “He was very complimentary of you.”
Laszlo set down his pen and ran his fingers through his hair. It was nice to see him relax and not think about work for a moment. “What did he say? You know he’s never going to tell me.”
Alice mocked offense. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you either?” He huffed a sigh and chuckled. “It’s admirable, really, the way he spoke about you. He would make a good wingman if you weren’t already taken.”
“John means well, obviously, he just doesn’t know everything yet.” Yet. She wondered when she would meet his friends officially, and he would meet hers. They were still in the beginning of their relationship, but she assumed since she told Bitsy, Laszlo must have told his friends something. Soon, she thought, but hopefully not too soon. Alice liked existing in their secret little bubble.
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trickstercaptain · 11 months
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@shadowcovcn sent a meme: sounds like you two make a happy couple. - laszlo @ jack in a voice dripping in sarcasm
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       He needed a cigarette, or a spliff, or fucking something. A blow to the head, maybe. Something that could sedate him or at least pull him out of this agitated state, pacing up and down outside the dingy London bar that had become their go-to place to either celebrate or hole up, depending on the success of their latest job. The sound of Christophe screaming at him was still ringing in his ears, even though it had been at least an hour and he didn't even know where the man was anymore. He could guess where the man was, though. He could guess that he was still having sex with the two guys he'd caught him with in the room above the bar an hour ago — the precise moment he'd been screamed at, in a voice that had been so loud it had almost certainly carried downstairs to everyone else minding their own business inside.
       Jack had said some not so kind things in return, though as the argument had continued all he'd ultimately wanted was to get away from it. The cold, night air definitely helped, but Christophe's words were still playing on a loop in his brain and he didn't have any cigarettes to hand and he didn't have any money on him because Christophe or one of his cronies usually controlled the purse strings while on one of their operations so it wasn't as if he could even hail a cab and just go home...
       The sound of Laszlo's voice managed to cut through all of the noise in his head — though Jack wasn't sure whether he was really happier to hear it. This wasn't the first time that his friend — and newest initiate to this fabled club of delinquents — had poured scorn all over Christophe, and he was sure that this display wasn't going to help. And besides, Jack really didn't want to talk about it.
       As he turned around to face him, Jack quickly wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. A moment or two followed in silence as he held Laszlo's gaze. His voice, when he did speak, came out quieter than he anticipated. “ I just... I just need to go home. ”
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myassbrokethefall · 2 years
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I am OUTRAGED!!! (slash delighted) that WWDITS ripped off my Mulder & Scully House Hunters concept.
5 min in and DYING, although maybe not as much as Toby (#getwellsoontoby)
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spongebob-connoisseur · 7 months
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I would give Slappy liver failure just so I can give him my own liver and then I can take his deseased failing liver and keep it as a lil treasure <3
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