[tw//: mentions of not eating, undefined depression, and anxiety ahead. please read at your own discretion.]
Food pushing was the first sign of distress, so he’s noted.
Lack of appetite always seems to be the reasoning, the simple “I’m not hungry,” can suffice, but for only so long. It carries, the concern, into a day, then heavily when it becomes a little less than a full week.
He can only sit and abide by it for so long, until he’s ready to keel over, watching once more as your fork becomes a stick, picking and poking at dinner.
It’s a frustrating thing to look at, because no matter how much he asks, you never have an answer for him.
His nose twitches in discontent, yet he pushes forth, swallowing the anger that fights its way forward. Anger that he cannot help you. Whatever it is, you’ve made it clear you did not want to talk about it.
“Is it alright if…if I go take a walk? I need to clear my head…”
You ask, still staring down at your full plate. You’re only asking because you know if you just got up and left, Lafayette would be at your heels in a moment, wondering why you’d want to go out in the cold, at a rather late hour.
But somehow, something in that sentence brings a smile to his eyes, and he nods happily, standing from his seat.
“Shall we?”
He’s invited himself, no surprise there, yet, you’d feel like something was missing if you gone without him. You haven’t gotten to do this in a long while, and it would be your mind that would become your enemy if you took this trip alone.
“I know you do not wish to talk about it,”
Lafayette had helped you into your coat, insisting on putting your gloves and scarf on. After, he shrugs his own coat on his broad shoulders, black leather gloves to his hands.
You had begun the walk in silence, yet, Gilbert broke it after a handful of moments.
“And you do not have to. I can talk this entire time, if you would like,”
You barely blink before another sentence leaves his lips.
“However, I am so very troubled by this, y/n. I do not like it that you have not eaten, and that beautiful smile has been gone from your face for too long.”
Your hands come to shove in your coat pockets, when you take notice of Lafayette’s hand, dangling just at the perfect height at your side. It’s a subconscious feeling, and you heed it, taking his hand in yours and giving it a squeeze.
To his surprise, yet, he doesn’t question it. It’s the first move you’ve made on your own, and he would rather die than have you pull your hand away.
“Y’know…when you have those obsessive thoughts. That sometimes everything happens for a reason?”
Your voice is hoarse, unable to find anything to look at besides the sidewalk below.
“Mhm, I do.”
“It’s a mantra that I keep saying over and over, yet, I still don’t know if I believe it. Everything has been thrown in my face, and then some, and I think I’m at my breaking point.”
Gilbert’s heart sinks into his stomach, and he slows his stride just a bit, feet shuffling at your words. It’s the first time you have brought this feeling to him, and many times you have expressed it physically, just by body language, this was the first time you have spoken it, verbally.
“Well, think of it this way,”
You sniffle, eyes watery as they slowly move upwards to catch his gaze. To blatant surprise, he’s staring right at you.
“Sometimes, people walk into your life for a good reason, and walk out of it for a good reason. Same with things, places—you must take the good with the bad,”
He exhales, and a puff of cold air comes as he does so.
“If you are at your breaking point, y/n, then do not hesitate to talk about it. Whatever you need, that is why I am here. A ‘good cry’, as you call it, may suffice as well.”
You nod, pulling his hand tighter so you leaned on the upper part of his arm.
“Promise me we’ll work on that?”
Most people, in times of urgent desperation, would make the decision to allow the other to solve it for themselves, with necessary assistance.
Lafayette says ‘we’. He insists on seeing you through this, together, and it wells something else in your chest as you can’t help the smile that comes to your face.
Still staring at the sidewalk though, you wouldn’t see it, the look Gilbert gives you. His heart actually skips a beat, he thinks, just watching your smile that had disappeared for so long.
It’s a huge relief to see it back, and you have no idea what it does to him.
“Thank you.”
You whisper, picking at your coat buttons with your unoccupied hand. Gilbert shakes his head, and mumbles something about ‘anytime’ before he waves his hand dismissively.
“If it’s alright with you,”
You start warily, eyes finally able to move off the ground.
“I’d like to go back, I’d hate to waste dinner,”
He sends you that award-winning smile, nodding happily as you begin to walk back home.
Brian Wiles has a YouTube now!!! It’s only been up a few months, there aren’t many videos, and it’s all about Egyptian Arabic, but I thought TURN fandom would be interested and overused the tags.
Every other movement or so, the rusted chains would rattle, and the hinges would creak above you. The saddle seat was extremely uncomfortable, yet, you couldn’t stop your own feet from dragging across the mulch, propelling you forwards, then backwards.
A notion crosses your mind that you probably should start heading back home, the grey clouds rolling overhead, just across the newly darkened horizon.
After a few good deep breaths, you go to stand, when a set of hands overlap yours, engulfing them and forcing them to the cold chain. You gasp, ready to scream, when you catch glimpse of the man above you, teary eyes blinking wildly as your heart finally stops beating so fast.
“I figured I would find you here.”
You heartbeat slows considerably.
“But, I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay, I was just about to head home. I didn’t intend to be out here for so long.”
Gilbert’s hands are warm, and you suddenly realize just how much your own were shaking in his hold.
“Do you mind if I join you? Just for a few moments.”
You pull your gaze away, now fixated on the ground, mumbling a ‘yes’, before the man pulls away, and moves to sit on the swing next to you.
He looks a bit ridiculous, making your lips twitch into a ghost of a smile. Lafayette finally settles on the seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he crosses his ankles.
“I was worried about you, y/n.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I really did lose track of time,“
He sighs.
“None of this is good for you.”
“What’s not good for me?”
“Wanting to be alone when you feel like this.”
“I’m used to it.”
Lafayette sighs once more, a hand coming to pull the sleeve of his jacket down just a bit.
“I am here now. I hope you know that I would listen for hours if you needed it.”
“I do know. Thank you.”
There’s a moment of silence, the only sound is your feet running back over the mulch, and the creaking hinges of the old swing set above you.
“How often do you do this?”
“What, come here?”
“Yes. That, and want to be alone.”
“I come here every so often.”
The chain becomes cold again, losing the warmth that you once held on to. Instead, a shiver ran straight down your spine, but your shoulders shake out the feeling in place.
“Wanting to be alone, that’s…that’s whenever I need to be.”
You sniffle.
“This is my first time being out here with you.”
When you look up, he’s looking straight ahead, gloved hands back holding the chains on either side of him, swinging in place just ever-so-slightly.
“Yeah. Usually you wait for me at the end of the street.”
“I thought maybe this time, you needed more than just someone to walk you home.”
Your eyes blink, once, then twice, pleading with the tears to stop.
“I didn’t mean to hide from you.”
The back of your hand smacks against your cheek as you furiously wipe away tears, silently begging Gilbert to just leave you be. You hated for him to see you in such a state, let alone a mess of tears.
“Don’t cry, y/n.”
As always, it makes you cry harder, now resorting to jumping off the swing and facing away from him. You stand just at the edge of the wooden box, right where the mulch ends and the grass begins.
“I just want to see you happy.”
Suddenly, he’s in front of you, a warmth returning to your cheeks as his hands now hold your cheeks, smushing them together slightly as his thumbs run along your temples.
“I am, I am!”
You insist, hands coming to grab at his arms, just so he stood at arms length.
“That’ll convince nobody. Whom are you trying to? Me, or yourself?”
Lafayette tries once more to hold you, and once more you push him away.
“You think it is easier to do it alone, when that is not true,”
You gulp for air, taking a step back, one that he matches with one forward. Back and forth you both go until you hit the swing with a gentle rattle, collapsing into the seat as Gilbert crouches down in front of you.
“Please, y/n. Let me help.”
He’s begging, pleading with you behind those blue eyes, and you watch as he doesn’t relent, even as your tears begin to cease.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay. I’ll let you help.”
There’s a full minute of pure silence, then the sky opens up and rain begins to pour in buckets full.
“I think it waited for you, y/n.”
“Waited for what?”
You warble, looking up at the sky miserably.
“Waited for you to finally accept that you cannot fight this alone.”
A knuckle runs along your rosy cheek.
“I couldn’t watch a moment longer. I wasn’t leaving until you let me in.”
You gently put your hand over his, feeling that warmth for a third time, yet, it settles right in your chest, alongside your heart.
“Thank you.”
You mouth, the sound of the rain drowning you out.
9: when it's hard for them to contain a smile, so they grin so wide it lights up your world >>>
TURN!Marquis de Lafayette x reader
[a/n: glitchhhh of course 💕💕]
Across the room, it’s difficult to keep your eyes on the book in front of you. Every time you look up, he’s staring right back at you, much to the annoyance of those around him. They were trying to work on something, to which the group effort would be explained, but all he keeps mumbling on about has nothing relevant to add.
He can’t help it, especially sitting in such a seat with a perfect line of vision to you.
Tapping the exterior cover of your book, you look down once more, a smile yourself brewing on your lips. It’s hard to not, with the way he looks at you so lovingly, and the more you look away, the harder it becomes to resist the urge to take another sparing glance.
Someone in his group taps him, asking him if he’s alright, to which the Frenchman nods eagerly, finally tearing his gaze from you to shuffle the stack of papers in his grasp.
“…lover boy.”
You hear one of them say, to which you’re caught once more staring at him. As he looks at his own information in front of him, talking, arguing with his group, you are free to watch the passion that comes across his rosy cheeks.
You stifle a laugh, knuckles coming to your lips as someone mentions how they were on a completely unrelated topic.
“Oh? Oh, my apologies, I just wanted to add—“
The giggle you emit does little to help his recovering brain, and when he looks up to meet your eyes, he finds it extremely hard to contain his smile. You even see his teeth come to bite his bottom lip, attempting to suffocate the laugh back into his throat.
It’s futile, so the effort seems, as you watch once more the way the smile breaks over his entire face, and your heart thrums wildly in your chest.
He seemingly recovers, beginning to talk about something relevant, much to his groups satisfaction. Yet he never looses sight of your smile, and your book suddenly doesn’t seem so interesting any more.
The look he gives you, speaks more than any words could.
One more minute, then I am all yours.
You nod, fingers fiddling with a page, yet you never flip it.
When not a minute more passes, his group stands, shaking hands, agreeing on one last thing before departing.
Hurriedly, you turn back to your book, watching their shoes as they leave, counting them and their voices until all that remains is a pair of shoes standing directly in front of you, stealing your heart with a simple set of words.
“All finished. Let us go home, my love.”
His hand comes out, and you close your book, taking his hand as he pulls you to stand.
Nothing could make your day like that smile of his, especially when it was reserved just for you.
Can I have some Turn! Lafayette fluff/angst where reader is sad and he gives them cuddles, when you have the chance to write it? <3
turnstiles
TURN!Lafayette x reader
[a/n: hi anon! sure you can, I hope this is what you were looking for! 💕]
There’s a stagnant, silent demand that calls you, though you do little to move to its inquiry. It’s almost…safer to not be so sure, unwilling to open up to a company that has been attempting to reach you for days.
The guilt was there, it was very much real and raw, and you couldn’t do a single thing to close that wound up, even if you tried.
He had made it past the first barrier, it was easy enough to enter the front door when you had a spare that you had so kindly given.
It’s bitter tasting that you trusted him so much to give him that key, and you couldn’t trust yourself to give some of this burden away.
“y/n, open it, now, or I break it.”
It’s pounding, his hand must be bruised, yet, you can’t bring yourself out of this hole you’ve crawled so deeply into.
Lafayette’s voice, it’s muffled by the second barrier, then the third.
You nearly scoffed at the thought of his face, after he’d surely kick the door in. He’d look stupefied, blue eyes scouring the room until they’d come to the bathroom.
This was the furthest you could go.
There’s the sickening crack as the heel of his boot meets the lock, and you can hear the door swing open with enough force that it crashes into the opposite wall.
You pale, a palm coming up to wipe away the steady stream of tears.
“Where are you?”
There it was, and you can do nothing but listen as the pillows and blankets are shuffled, the sound of your closet door opening then closing, and a light floods the room as it peaks under the bathroom door.
“Don’t think I won’t…”
His forehead is against the door, and as your back reclines against the wood, you wonder if he’d do it, for real.
“Please, please, I just want to be alone—“
“You’ve been alone for days, I sincerely doubt that anymore time will make anything better.”
His eyes move to the floor, where he can tell you’re sat on the ground, right in front of the door. The shadow gives it away, and his entire plan of action slips away from him just as he finalizes it.
There’s a silence, one that’s intense and hardly interrupted.
You begin to wonder how long this stalemate will last, then the handle on the door moves.
You didn’t lock it. You didn’t…lock it?
You didn’t lock it?!
Slowly, you’re pushed away from the facing wall, more into the bathroom.
There’s something, something that yanks your heart straight from your chest as you dare to peer up at him, just watching as he looks down at you, hurt, scared—
Fearful.
“I’m…I’m so sorry—“
It’s instantaneous, something breaks, something gives, and you know it’s just all going downhill from here.
Lafayette had every right to shut that door and walk out.
Walk away.
But he didn’t. He joined you on that cold tiled floor, holding you close, arms squeezing the pain out of you as much as they could.
His hand ran up and down your back, the other cradled your head to his shoulder.
There was no force in the entire world that could have pulled you from his arms in that very moment.
Hey Sul! I hope you're doing well💜💜 Could I get an angsty Lafayette fic if you get the time?
hush
TURN!Lafayette x reader
[a/n: hi glitch! Of course, I hope you are good as well! 💕]
He’s sat in the kitchen, lights off, and his knee can’t stop shaking. Hands clasped in his lap, all he does is stare directly at the clock in front of him, counting the minutes that have passed since you left.
In his mind, he’s decided that he’s giving you until quarter past until he’s going out to look for you. Angry or not, he is not about to let you go and walk around unsafely at two in the morning.
When he’s just about had it, her hears the door knob turn, and the hinges squeak as sniffling sounds come into earshot. Terrified, he stands abruptly, enough that the chair slides back across the floor, slamming into the wall behind him.
“y/n?”
Try as he might, he cannot get that tremble out of his voice.
You, stop dead in your tracks. You were hoping he would have just went to bed, and you could table this for another day, but it seems that it wasn’t going to happen like that.
“I am in the kitchen, i…I wish to talk, if that is possible.”
Blinking away fresh tears, you set your bag down and make your way down the hall to the kitchen. It’s dark, nothing is illuminated, and it’s hard to bite back anything anymore.
You both stand in the kitchen, facing each other, but none willing to speak first.
“I…I owe you an apology.”
Lafayette finally says, and watches your dimly lit features by the window for any chance of an acceptance.
“I was too scared of what you might say, that I did not tell you. Now, I understand how harmful that was, and I now know that you were right.”
“Right about what, exactly?”
Okay, you’ll bite. If he can tell you, then maybe there’s some middle ground to be found here.
“Right about the false intentions, right about the lying—“
“I’m not here to be the bad guy, Laf. I’m not even expecting you to tell me that I was right, because I was far from it. We both were.”
His eyes jump wide, and he waits patiently for your next breath.
“I just…I don’t think this is working. I can’t imagine how much saying sorry and moving on will rectify the deeper issue.”
“What does that mean, y/n?”
When you don’t answer, and begin to turn away, Lafayette takes a brave step forward, breath hitching on his words.
“What does that mean?”
He reaffirms, trying to get your attention.
“Maybe we should just…stop.”
You don’t have the heart to say it, but if he’d catch on, you could save yourself the tears.
“You are not willing to work this out?”
You wouldn’t notice it now, but looking back, Lafayette was silently begging you to stay.
“No. It’s happened before, and times before then. I’m tired of it—“
“Let it go for tonight, we can discuss it further in the morning.”
Lafayette walks past you and into the foyer, no doubt heading straight for the couch.
Neither of you had the heart to say it, but one of you was going to have to.
Bestie, I need more Lafayette in my life. Would you be willing to do something along the lines of how he developed a crush and what he acts like with one?
Time
TURN!Marquis de Lafayette x reader
[a/n; bestie, I gotcha always 💕AND IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO BE POSTED.]
When he’s told he’s drooling, he actually swipes his hand under his mouth, because he’s inclined to believe he is.
It’s one of those instantaneous things, where he catches you out of the corner of his eye. Maybe your both always in the library at the same time, always seeming to bump into each other but not in the right way. If he wasn’t such a goofball, he’d walk right over and introduce himself.
But something tells him this time to wait. That maybe it’ll sort itself out, or maybe you’re already seeing someone. He’s not going to pounce on you like some kind of animal.
Lafayette is content with admiring from afar for a while. He doesn’t stare at you, but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t pick his seat strategically among the bookcases. He likes his privacy, so the secluded corner of the library is no surprise when Hamilton asks where he is.
“They’re in my history class,”
A yelp, luckily soft enough that it garnered no unwanted glares. Lafayette gulps and sheepishly tries to play it off, admitting that he’s zoned out, but Hamilton knows him better than that. He knows that Lafayette is knee-deep in this crush, and he offers to introduce him.
“No, no! Thank you, but please, I’m happy right now.”
“By being a creep?”
“It’s not—“
“They’re really kind. You two would get along great, and that’s coming from me. I think it’s worth a really great shot if you just, went over and said hi.”
That’s the thing, he definitely would have by now. But there’s something about them that ties his stomach in a knot and he can’t find any words.
He’s hoped you haven’t picked up on how many times he’s walked past your table just to turn around and walk back towards his.
Lafayette realizes that the more time he spends drooling over you in the back corner of the library, the less time that he actually stands a chance at nabbing your heart.
So with a small rush of adrenaline, and a big push from Hamilton, he ends up finding you in a different spot than he normally would.
“Do you need help?”
It’s such a silly question to ask, he knows that you need it—but a flush of nervousness caught him to drop the question without as much as a thought.
It’s also rather hard to not find the situation amusing, because right now, to you, it’s not. And he’d rather not get on your bad side, if he’s hoping to be something a little more than a friend.
Although the thought of being stubborn and saying no crossed your mind, you knew you’d regret it the moment he walked away.
“Maybe a little,”
You admit sheepishly, staring down at your mess of papers scattered across the floor. With a twinge of red blooming on your cheeks, you sputter a thank you as the boy crouches to help you on the ground.
“It’s no problem!”
He seems…enthusiastic, but kind, and minding your manners you don’t stare at him for a second too long. A folder of important papers, carefully alphabetized, now long out of any sort of order.
Set back a good two hours, if you were lucky.
“Ah, I believe my friend is in this class. He’s mentioned about how these timelines are…”
Lafayette finds himself babbling, because he can’t pick up the papers slow enough. He wants this moment to last a little bit longer, because it’s the only time he’s gathered the nerve to talk to you.
“Then I’m sure he knows what a mess this is!”
You laugh, and in turn lower your head to pick up a paper that was one of the last few. You miss the way his eyes light up at the sound of your laugh.
“I’m y/n, by the way.”
Feeling better now that all of the papers were in your possession, you hug them close to your chest.
“Thank you so much…?”
It’s a beat off, he isn’t registering you’re asking for his name.
So he stutters it, stumbling over the easiest question in the world.
