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kyouka-supremacy · 4 months

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Okay about Beast sskk; because I realized I've got a very definite picture of what the Beast post-canon is like that is only in my mind and I never actually put down, so here we go. Very needed content warning of sickeningly fluff and Beast sskk being disgustingly in love with each other, I suppose.

After Dazai killed himself, Atsushi is reasonably tormented, and can't sleep at night. Roaming across Yokohama late at night, he always ends up at Akutagawa's– instinctively, unconsciously, to an extent even unwillingly. He doesn't choose to, it's more about countless nights unable to sleep spent wandering with no destination and still always finding himself in front of Akutagawa's place for some reason. Akutagawa somehow always knowing when it's going to happen so that he can face him before Atsushi has time to hesitate and run away. How they don't really need words or explanations most of the time, how for Atsushi knowing that there's another person who understands is enough, and everything he needs. How before Atsushi realizes it (and thus keeping him from trying and prevent it), Akutagawa's house has become the only place where he can fall asleep.

That's how they start living together before even being together. They might not even have an actual “getting together” moment, you know? The development of their relationship is so natural and spontaneous, it was meant to end that way from the beginning. Besides, Beast sskk don't really need words between them, so... I suppose an actual confession, albeit nice, would be almost superfluous.

Soon enough they move together to a small apartment near the ada (I'm assuming Atsushi has still enough money saved from his old job). Against popular belief, with time it kind of crystallized in me the idea that Atsushi wouldn't join the ada? His life to that point has constantly been doused by violence and pain and death, he deserves a long break to cope with all the trauma; throwing him right back to another environment where he's constantly pushed to fight and use his ability would not do any good to his mental health; especially when he's got such a conflictual and hating relationship with Byakko, even worse than it is in canon. I wasn't kidding about the house husband thing. Beast Atsushi stays home and chills down and is safe and away from all major sources of stress and triggering environments. Slowly, with time, he goes out more often, gradually relearns what normality is supposed to be like, and bit by bit all his traumatic experiences get more distant, and the nightmares more rare. Akutagawa follows up with his ada job– obviously! There's a whole deal in the end about how important it is for him to keep doing his job and trying to be good. I do believe the ada is the right place for Akutagawa. He returns home to Atsushi who always welcomes him with warmth and joy, and they cuddle a lot.

But I also believe that there would be times when Atsushi is required to go back to action and fight– he's not a member of the ada and he doesn't work for them, but it's obvious that when the ada is in danger and Yokohama is facing serious threats, the guild and the rats and ultimately the doa, the times will call for his intervention. He usually comes to help or rescue Akutagawa, a trump card of sorts. And it's endearing, how Akutagawa is always the one, even among the ada, most contrary on getting Atsushi involved, how he wants to protect him and keep him away, how more than anything he wants him to be safe. As for Atsushi, I really like the concept of this man who retired from action, that spends most of his time at home or chatting with the seniors in the neighborhood, who joins the fight only when the situation is most desperate and reveals himself to be the most powerful and destructive beast to have ever walked on earth. He reluctantly fights, and together with Akutagawa they end up saving the day for everyone, because as Dazai himself said nothing can stop the both of them together.

On the other hand, when the world isn't ending Atsushi solves that very specific role of crime drama protagonist's husband who's very supportive of their partner and listens to them ramble at home about their cases. He often offers useful insights on how criminal organizations work.

Atsushi didn't replace his collar after it broke. They're barely visible under his turtleneck, but he has now wrapped bandages in its place: to hide his scars, to keep the memory of Dazai with him everywhere he goes, to remember what he's lost but also what he's gained.

Ah, and when it comes to the fight against Fukuchi, Atsushi is the one to die for Akutagawa, of course.

Headcanons that directly contradict something stated above but that I still like:

Sskk get together after six months– it's got an ironic taste to it, the timestamp their canon counterparts set to kill each other now being the time they declared their love to each other. It's so soon, but also is it really? They immediately clicked the moment they met each other, and they were always destined to be. At that point, there's no one in the world they need more than they need each other.

In case of Atsushi still wearing the collar for some time after the canon events: sskk had their first kiss when Atsushi took the collar off for the first time. Ever since Dazai died, Atsushi is haunted and unstable; he's throughout scared of taking off the collar, terrified by the idea of hurting someone unintentionally, now that Dazai can't be there to controll him (both through his ability and by the general power he used to have over Atsushi's psyche). Akutagawa sees how much Atsushi is physically hurting, and insists on him taking the collar off; they fight over it for months (verbally, for the most part, except for a couple of times when the fights become physical– but without abilities), before Akutagawa finally manages to convince Atsushi to take it off for a few hours. When they're alone, because after months of being persuaded, Atsushi can trust Akutagawa to be able to defend himself; and also something about “you would never hurt me”. Thing is, when Atsushi finally takes it off, he quickly spirals into a HUGE panic attack, not able to trust himself not to harm the people he cares about; and the only person around is Akutagawa, and he cares about him deeply. The tiger is taking over, and Akutagawa is panicking, and he's desperately looking for a way to quickly ground Atsushi so he just. Kisses him. Which effectively works in the way it immediately distracts Atsushi, as well as causes him to zone out for several minutes. Akutagawa immediately apologizes, and then panics again when Atsushi doesn't answer for a while. It's kinda cute. After that, Atsushi gradually learns to take his collar off more and more often; this time, he can really trust that, if Akutagawa is with him, everything is going to be okay.

#This might as well be the sappiest thing I've ever put down but like. idk did I make it go through that Beast sskk are meant to be #atsushi nakajima #ryūnosuke akutagawa #sskk #shin soukoku #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd beast #mine #15/08/23 #This is ridiculous I never realized how soft I made them until I actually wrote it down.#It's so silly when I'm also the first one ready to make canon sskk suffer #What can I say. They've suffered enough.#“The bandages are barely visible under his turtleneck” I mean that's for when he wears his turtleneck–#and not Akutagawa's striped shirt as he does at home. Which is an awful amount of times but nobody needs to know that.#I'd say this is self-indulgent but it's not like I'm doing it on purpose this is seriously what Beast sskk is like in my mind.#Nothing much I can do about it. That's the realistic Beast outcome for me.#If the author wants to prove me wrong by dropping Beast 2 they're more than welcome but untill then *this* is my canon #kbcu (Kyotag Beast Cinematic Universe)

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haaam-guuuurl · 29 days

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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.