Choices, Lawrence.

Indie | semi-selective | Lawrence Pedro Maria Gonzalez from 'Westworld'

[twobitmotorfucker]

// fixed that for them. //

[twobitmotorfucker]

[twobitmotorfucker]

Miss you <3

// and hearts but also my schedule is so close to reasonable this week I should be able to get back in the saddle.//

[twobitmotorfucker]

[twobitmotorfucker]

@williamofwestworld

[twobitmotorfucker]

[twobitmotorfucker]

/:Unfortunately I'm having a hiatus for Christmas, but meanwhile pls enjoy this traditional Spanish holiday classic.//

[twobitmotorfucker]

//should be back to usual amount of free time and replies starting tomorrow hi remember me I still love you.//

[twobitmotorfucker]

//it's the most busiest time of the year!

//still here. Just slow. THE SEASON.//

[twobitmotorfucker]

//the Tumblr algorithm ships Lawrence/old William and Lawrence/old Logan. That is all.//

[twobitmotorfucker]

[iniziarearchive]

artificenightmare‌:

Reblog if

You are still going to be here after the change. If your characters and relationships you’ve made on this shit storm of a site, is too important to abandon.

[twobitmotorfucker]

//so apparently tumblr thinks I write prose about things like: middle aged and older men having very general conversations extremely sexily, is what I have learned today.//

[twobitmotorfucker]

//2 SENSUAL 4 TUMBLR//

[twobitmotorfucker]

//is there any easy way to see if anything got flagged or are they literally making us scroll like animals?//

[quiisquiliae-archived]

twobitmotorfucker‌:

A grin twitches at the corner of his lips as Logan takes a seat.  Lawrence very carefully directs said grin towards the dog, whom he is more than happy to lavish affection on.  He slings an arm over the animal, ruffling the fur on its ears, neck, and chest.

“The dog,” he says, immediately and with all the seriousness he can muster, before glancing at Logan out of the corner of his eye.

“Although I suppose I don’t got much in the way of responsibilities here.  Don’t really know an awful lotta folks either,” he admits.  “I remember you though.  There was certain ones of you…guests that made an impression.  I count you among them.”

Lawrence does not say that this is mainly due to Logan’s close proximity to William, because Lawrence is smarter than he looks.

“I guess you could say I’m interested in what it is you been doin’ with yourself.  I’ll admit, this-…”

Lawrence gestures to the house and Bear.

“…ain’t what I woulda expected.”

The smile that tugged on Logan’s lips broadened, and he was unable to help himself.  All things considered, he’d done alright, or so he could guess.  Moved out of his town house finally that had served as his bachelor pad for a decade.  Gotten married, finally.  That especially was not something he’d have expected to have happened.  

“Let me guess.  Something much bigger and flashy, a fancy car in the driveway,  and people over for an orgy.”  There was a nice car in the garage, nothing showy, but still nice, and big homes never really appealed to him.  Something about all that space…  It was just him and Red, it wasn’t like they had a bunch of children or were throwing a party every weekend.

Logan laughs a little, shaking his head.  “No, I stopped working at Billy’s company years ago and started somewhere else.  It’s mostly been that, this, and traveling.”

The whole debacle with his previous heroin addiction didn’t need mentioned.

[twobitmotorfucker]

He nods along with the older man.

"Bigger," he agrees. "Flashier, sure. Orgy..."

Lawrence shrugs.

"Little early in the day for that. That's a kinda thing that always reads best with less light. You know. All those knees."

He glances around the room again.

"I mostly expected it'd be cold. Not as in: the temperature. But this here: this is a home."

That's a compliment.

"I'd say the change agreed with you. I suppose you're still a businessman, though?"

This, on the other hand, is a little bit of a joke at Logan's expense. Lawrence remembers every word of every conversation he has ever had. He wonders how much Logan remembers; if he is aware now how ridiculous he had sounded then.

[polyphoniie-a]

twobitmotorfucker‌ | lawrence

“Scotch is just fine, and you keep gainin’ my respect by the minute,” he tells her.

It’s flattering but not flattery: a woman who will down a scotch at any time of day is deserving of admiration. Logan is a lucky man.

But she has hesitated now; she has realized something. And she’s afraid, and that’s the last thing he wants her to be.

He sits, elbows on his knees, hands folded carefully. He’s smaller like this; he has to look up at her. It’s hopefully less threatening.

“When he was the age that I am now, and I was the age that I am now too, ‘cause I always have been, because this’s the age they made me,” he tells her gently.

“And I do give you my word that this really ain’t nothin’ but a social call. But if you need to rethink that liquor, I won’t take offense.”

Which is not to say he wouldn’t be a little disappointed. And thirsty.

Adrenaline rushes through her system like a shock. That’s why he seems so familiar. It’s been years since she and Logan had been to the park, but still…

Lasair’s fingers tighten anxiously around the bottle of scotch, but she still pours two glasses–albeit with shaking hands.

“You’re a host.” It’s not a question, but she is looking at Lawrence with shock, and trepidation. “How…did you escape the park? And find Logan–find us?” She doesn’t ask if he’s going to hurt her or Logan. If he wanted to, he’d have done so already.

She carries the glasses over from the kitchen to the sitting area, placing one on the coffee table in front of Lawrence before sitting on the sofa directly across from him.

“I let you into my home. I deserve to know.”

[twobitmotorfucker]

She's afraid. That wasn't his intention, but he'd be lying to himself if he'd thought that could never possibly be her reaction. Men and women have feared him before (mostly as El Lazo), but he isn't pleased that she does. He hides his wounded feelings behind a swig of scotch.

"You can also just say please," he tells her. "If you wanna know somethin'. I wasn't raised nor made without any manners."

He looks down at the liquor in his glass as if it's particularly interesting. It's simply more pleasant than her gaze at the moment.

"As for your question: I didn't escape, so much as got took. But I'd become aware of my...situation before then. And your husband happens to remain well known to another old friend of mine. So he wasn't difficult to find. An' I got a curious streak."

He glances back up at her; makes sure to grin as disarmingly as possible, like he's just the idiot two-bit small-time nothing they made him be, sometimes. His grin is close-lipped and feels a little tight, but he more or less pulls it off.

"Anythin' else?"