In Shadows

You may have noticed I’ve been MIA. Honestly, my fiance has cancer. it’s not terminal, and thank fuck it’s very treatable, but we’ve been undergoing fertility treatments because of it and I’ve been mad busy

I won’t be stopping this, in fact - I have a bunch of replies ready to go across my accounts

I’m posting this here to reblog on my other pages, to be raw Louis is my most active muse stm so you’ll be seeing a lot of him when I’m back with my laptop (travelling for treatment is a fuck)

love yall, if we have a thread don’t give up on me

I do have discord if anyone wants to have a more casual thread or even just hang - it’s

A study in; 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 & 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 RP blog for 𝐋𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐮 𝐋𝐚𝐜 from 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 | Est 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | 𝐔𝐊 - 𝐆𝐌𝐓 | Penned by 𝐋𝐮𝐱𝐞

But, not yet.

William smiled. For once, a real, warm smile. This is the time. This time, this possible last extra shot, he decided to connect, and remain something Michael could be proud of. He's aware of his track record, branching even beyond his own deeds- but allowing certain people to stay around his boy, and allowing certain events and incidents to fester in his, at the time, frail, youthful, confused mind. He regrets shutting down after that birthday party. He regrets shutting down after that lost ice-cream cone. He regrets taking it out on him. Taking time to heal on his own while leaving his child to the wolves, to the nightmares, to handle it all on his own.

He regrets leaving any of them alone to begin with.

Michael rolled his eyes slightly as his father spoke, wondering when the feelings he had for his father - the ones that were not pure 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝- became so riddled with embarrasment. He stopped himself from making a snide comment - something about how his father wasn't hip or cool and should really stop trying. Things were going well, and he didn't want to ruin it with his usual self. ❛That's the thing❜ - he thought - ❛if this fucks up, it's going to be on me.❜ These days, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 was his fault - a point that had been so often drummed into him by the very man who had extended the metaphorical olive branch when he knocked on his sons door. Michael struggled with it mentally; the way that these two sides, these borderine different men, were able to form his father. He wished he'd seen more of this side of him, but perhaps he had pushed his father away too. Michaels mind was a constant battle between I could have tried harder and I was a child - your child.