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amjustagirl · 4 years

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Notes: Title stolen from Song Of The Soul XXII by Khalil Gibran.

Companion piece: In the absence of sound (she hears her heart break)

Wrote this indulgent piece angst and fluff to reset after the very angsty The Astrophile (which took a lot of my own heart). As always, comments are gladly appreciated <3

Summary: Yaku bursts into her life like a hurricane, even whilst Akaashi lingers on like the memory of a summer breeze.

Pairings: Yaku x reader, Akaashi x reader

She runs into Yaku at the New Year’s Party the Japanese embassy in Moscow throws for expatriates (a fancy term to describe birds who’ve flown the coop after finding it unbearably small). He’s in the middle of chattering with a bemused waiter in very broken Russian about the spread when he explodes into a delighted laugh, so loud that she startles and spills her drink all over his shoes.

Pandemonium ensues – the restaurant staff scatter to fetch napkins and she’s trying to pick up the pieces of her broken glass, stammering out apologies (because dear god, her boss is going to have her head for upsetting a guest – especially one so prominent as Yaku Morisuke, the only Japanese volleyball player who broke into the Russian professional league), when his laugh cuts through the noise.

‘This was my favourite pair of shoes’ he tells her when he stops laughing, and she’s about to launch into a litany of apologies when he grins at her cheekily – ‘But you can make it up to me by buying me dinner instead’.

‘Now?’ she gapes at him in shock. ‘I can’t, I’m working’.

‘Whenever’, he answers, stealing her phone from her hands. ‘Look – here’s my number. Call me when you can’.

She’s left in shock, watching him in silence as he bounces off to join another conversation.

She texts him that night (because a deal is a deal, and she always pays her debts) and they arrange to meet the next day at a dumpling place he recommends.

She’s there five minutes early, and he bursts into the restaurant five minutes late, apologizing whilst complaining about goddamned Russian traffic. He orders for the both of them in such an excruciatingly terrible Russian accent that she winces, but he must have been here before because the waiter takes their order without batting an eye. The owner, a wizened old lady with apples in her cheeks swings by to smack kisses on his cheeks noisily.

‘It’s a little strange, but it’s the closest thing I can find to home’, he tells her when the waiter presents them with their dumplings with a flourish. It is indeed strange – the dumpling skin is thicker and doughier than she’s used to with Japanese gyozas, stuffed with varying fillings of beef and pork and cheese, but his eyes are bright when she takes her first bite and gives a hum of appreciation because it is as he says, strange but good.

There is indeed an echo of home in her heart but she clamps it down firmly.

‘It’s good right?’ he asks and she nods mutely, mouth full of dumplings. He talks her ear away, telling her about his time in the Russian league, how he’s just made the first team this week. She learns he can’t remember a time when he doesn’t know the feel of a volleyball in his hands, and how he broke his mother’s heart when he chose to train outside of Japan, six thousand, four hundred and forty-eight miles away from home.

He asks her why she’s in Moscow. She tells him she’s studied Russian as a child – her father, a math professor, believed it necessary for her and her sister to learn Russian, and while she’s never quite had a head for numbers, she takes to languages like a fish to water – and since she was looking for a new adventure, Moscow seemed like a good fit.

(She does not tell him she’s actually on the run from her broken heart)

‘You can teach me Russian then’, his words presumptuous, but there’s mirth and warmth flickering in his eyes that makes her hesitate to tell him off.

‘Maybe’, she responds with a shrug, standing up to pay the bill. To her surprise he lets her pay without a fight - very unlike Akaashi, who had only agreed grudgingly to allow her to split the bill on their first date.

‘It’s my turn to pay when we go out next time’, he tells her when they stand outside the restaurant about to part.

‘Will there be a next time?’ she asks him archly, and he pouts at her with puppy-dog eyes. He texts her less than five minutes after he takes his leave, inviting her to an ice skating rink.

To neither of their surprise, there is indeed, a next time, and a next time after that.

Yaku has an extremely sweet tooth, unlike Akaashi who prefers the bitterness of black coffee.

She tells him to drop in on her apartment after training (only if he’s up to it of course, she’s learnt that lesson from Akaashi after all). He does so without complaint, and she’s removing the pie from the oven when he lets himself in with the key he sweet-talked out of her.

‘Tadaima’, he calls cheerily, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he drops his gloves on the kitchen table. ‘Is that for me?’ he asks, gaping bug-eyed at the steaming pie in her hands.

‘I don’t see anyone else it could be for’, she teases, setting the pie down on the table, cutting him a slice. The fruit seller at the corner of her street had a sale on apples, and she remembers Yaku telling her that he used to buy apple pie on the way to school every week, but would always end up giving it up to Kenma as a bribe to train harder during practice and finish running his laps.

He takes a bite and moans loudly even though he burns his tongue – it’s so good, a flaky, buttery crust hiding a jammy filling of caramelized apple and browned butter. It tastes like home in the fall when the leaves turn golden and red, when his mother brings home apples on discount from the store and he and his little brothers fight over the apples pastries his grandmother makes.

‘I love you’, he declares firmly, as he reaches for a second helping, and he pretends not to notice when she shrinks back and does not respond.

Yaku revels in public displays of affection - unlike Akaashi, who used to shy away from it.

‘I like your hair. Have you always kept it short?’ He asks her one day when they’re feeding ducks in the park near his house.

She laughs at him as he quacks exaggeratedly back at a very greedy duck chasing the bread in his hand and answers without thinking - ‘no, I cut it before I left Japan because I hear it’s what break-ups make you do’. Then she freezes, because this is the first time she’s ever alluded to Keiji to him – it’s a part of her life that she’d very much like to bury in a deep, dark vault and throw the key away.

But the expression on his face is very much like a cat eyeing a rat it’d like very much to trap and she’s right, he’s relentless (she should’ve known that, could’ve seen that from just watching one of his matches). As he walks her home, she finds herself telling him about Keiji - how his lack of affection and inability to step away from his job created a silence so still she heard her heart break.

When she finishes what she self-deprecatingly terms her tale of woe, he pulls her to a stop, ignoring the indignant protests of the people walking behind them. ‘What on earth, Mori’, she squawks, but he ignores her too, choosing instead to wind his hands into the ends of her scarf and tug her face to face with him. She does not want to look at him, does not want to see pity in his eyes – but there is none of that, only a quiet tenderness that warms her to her core.

‘I love you’, he tells her softly, and it’s a wonder she can hear every inflection of his voice through the rush of blood to her ears. ‘I will continue saying it as many times as you need, as loudly as I can until your heart is no longer broken and the silence is gone’.

Then, without an ounce of shame, he kisses her right in the middle of the busy street, completely oblivious to the glares of the people who pass them by.

Yaku is quick to anger, whereas Akaashi is the calm before the storm.

She’s told him again and again not to send her flowers – she swears she’s developed an allergy to them, the memory of Keiji sending her flowers every Friday even after they broke up sends bile up her throat (pink camellias for longing, violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for obvious reasons) – but Yaku doesn’t listen and sends her a bouquet of red roses for her birthday (for love).

So she screams at him when he pops by her flat after training – because why on earth doesn’t he just listen to her, he knows she hates flowers, what on earth would possess him to send her flowers for her birthday, and he screams back that he does, damn it - but he’s not Keiji, he’s spent their entire time together trying to prove that, why can’t she just trust him for once.

Finally, he storms out shouting that he’ll come back when she’s calmed down, when she’s finally ready to forgive him for whatever Keiji has done – even though for the last goddamned time, he’s not bloody Keiji and she sinks to the floor, wondering why she’s allowed the ghost of Keiji to continue haunting her, six thousand, four hundred and forty-eight miles away from home.

He’s right - it isn’t fair to him for her to keep comparing him to Keiji, to keep watching and waiting for him to slip up, not when he’s poured all his love and affection into her – into them . He’s not Keiji, never has been and never will be, and she wonders if this is the point his patience and kindness and love finally runs out.

But she’s not going to let another man she loves walk out of her life without a fight.

So she throws on her coat and climbs down the stairs, determined to march to Yaku’s apartment just a couple of streets away when she slams into him head-first at the corner of her street. ‘I’m sorry’ they both chorus immediately, and despite themselves, they break into a laugh.

‘I’m sorry for not listening’, he says, but she shakes her head, determined to say her piece. ‘You're right, it's my fault for not letting Keiji go. I should have figured this out earlier, but I know you’re not Keiji, you never have been, and I trust you never will be’.

And to drive the point home, thanking her lucky stars he’s not tall, she pulls him close by his collar and presses her lips to his. ‘I love you’, she whispers, when they finally come up for air. He looks at her like she just hung the stars up in the sky.

The next day, she presents him with a literal bushel of red roses, and he laughs at that - loud and clear and bright.

(The sound makes her heart feel whole again)

‘Why don’t you move with me’, Yaku asks her matter of factly through a mouthful of rice, at the end of her tirade about her awful landlord who just tried to stiff her by doubling her rent in less than a year with a month’s notice.

She stills, hand frozen halfway to her mouth. He does not swallow for fear of choking the mix of uncertainty and hope rising in his throat - because sometimes even though he promises to wait for her as long as she needs, he wonders if she’ll ever forget that he’s not her bloody ex – until he senses her relaxing her tense shoulders, and decides to close in for the kill.

‘Come on’, he wheedles. ‘We could even adopt a kitten so you won’t be lonely when I’m away for work’, and he laughs fondly when her face lights up. There we go.

‘You drive a hard bargain, but alright’, she pretends to grouse, but she laughs along with him when he triumphantly presses his lips to her cheek, dodging her swats when she scolds him for leaving grains of rice on her face.

They adopt a black kitten from the shelter and they name him ‘Kuroo’.

Much like its namesake, their cat is a piece of shit and contrary as hell. He doubles over in laughter when he comes home one day to find her chasing Kuroo (the cat, not the middle blocker) around the house, furniture upended everywhere. He later understands through her huffs that she meant to give him a bath.

He sends endless pictures of Kuroo (again, the cat and not the middle blocker) to the Nekoma groupchat and they all fall head over heels in love. Kai sends him advice on how to grow catnip in an apartment. Fukunaga asks to video call the cat more than he texts him. Shibayama and Inouka ship a box of clothes for the cat because they’re worried it won’t survive the Russian winter. The worst offenders are Kenma who sets up social media accounts for it, and bloody international supermodel Lev who pours oil on flames by tagging the damn cat on his own posts. Yaku is alarmed to wake up one day and find that his cat is more popular than him.

Well, all of them save for its namesake, who threatens to retaliate by naming his dog ‘Yaku’.

He gets drafted onto the National Team, and he’s elated until he realizes that he’ll have to spend months away from her.

‘It’s fine’, she reassures him. ‘Kuroo will keep me company while you’re back home’. The little demon licks its ass and looks intolerably smug when he shoots a glare at it behind her back, because he knows damn well the cat is going to take advantage of his absence to take over his side of the bed.

He extracts a promise from her to call him every day (screw the time difference, seriously) and he in turn promises to send her tickets to watch him play. Then he packs his bags and flies back to Tokyo.

It’s nostalgic being back in his childhood home. The posters from his teenage years are still on his bedroom walls (gods – he was such a horny bastard back then), and his mother smothers him with his favourite foods and far too much attention. But he lays awake at night thinking of their little apartment filled with the smell of her baking and the sound of her singing and realizes he misses Kuroo - again, the cat, not the middle blocker, who’d miss him - despite its despicable way of stalking him while he takes a shit and most of all - he misses her.

He figures he has it bad when he starts turning down his grandmother’s apple pastries because they remind him too painfully of the apple pies she makes after either of them have had a hard day at work, and wonders when he started thinking of Moscow and the little apartment he shares with her as home.

But he soldiers on because playing for Japan is his dream (and has been, ever since he first learnt the thrill of keeping the ball in flight with his hands), and gets by on video calls and texts and pictures of Kuroo and the promise of dumplings and apple pies when he comes home.

He makes the mistake of mentioning that he has a girlfriend in Miya Atsumu’s earshot after practice one day.

‘You have a girlfriend?’ the piss-haired setter asks in disbelief. ‘You? Mr bossy - under five foot five – libero-chan managed to land himself a girl that’s willing to tolerate him?’

‘Just because you have an issue keeping girls from running away from you doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t find girlfriends’, Sakusa interjects flatly, face firmly masked up, trusty bottle of sanitizer pointed in Atsumu’s direction.

Yaku is about to claw Atsumu’s eyes out when Hinata prances by and asks to see a picture of said girlfriend. Growling, he whips out his phone, and is mollified when the rest of the team crowds around and pronounces her to be very pretty. Everyone – except Atsumu, who sulks in a corner, sneering that he could do better (no he can’t - he really can’t get a girl to save his life), and Bokuto, who corners him later when he’s about to leave.

‘She used to date Akaashi, you know?’ Bokuto tells him solemnly, a marked departure from his usual jovial self. ‘They broke up on a pretty bad note’.

Yaku does not in fact know, because she’s never mentioned her ex-boyfriend’s last name, always opting to refer to him as ‘Keiji’, a fairly popular name for guys their age. ‘Oh?’ he replies, and tries his best to sound encouraging and not derisive or threatening or whatever it is that Atsumu has accused him of over the past few weeks of training.

‘Yeah. She’s a nice girl, I met her once or twice, but between you and me, I don’t think Akaashi is really over her’.

Too bad for him, he wants to say but doesn’t, because despite whatever Atsumu might say about him, he’s tactful, thank you very much, and knows it’s probably not the best idea to badmouth his teammate’s best friend to his face, especially a teammate he likes as much as Bokuto. Instead, he stuffs his shoes in his bag, shrugging and grunting noncommittally before heading off.

He doesn’t mention this to her during their nightly video calls. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want them to have to talk about him being an old acquaintance with her idiot ex over a call, their time together is too precious to be tainted by any mention of him. But there’s a part of him that wonders if it’s because he’s afraid that she’ll bump into Akaashi when she’s back in Japan and he might convince her to let him sweep her away. Akaashi is tall, dark and handsome, and most definitely smarter and more educated after all - a better match for her than him, an idiot that chases balls for a living.

But then her laughter chimes through his phone’s speakers as he pouts when she carries Kuroo to the screen to ask if he misses his daddy (the traitorous hell spawn refuses to even look at him) and it banishes the shadow of his doubts away. It’s as clear as day that she loves him, ball chasing idiot Yaku Morisuke.

He falls asleep to the sound of her humming his favourite songs.

She flies to Japan with their cat in tow a week before the Olympics and even though he’s moved into the Olympic dorms by then, he sneaks out to meet her for dinner as often as he can. Atsumu catches him once and grumbles something about ‘hypocritical bossy know-it-alls’ - but shuts up when Yaku turns up for practice the next day and is too busy grinning ear to ear to yell at him for flubbing an easy receive as he usually does.

When he finally steps onto the court for his first match, it’s easy to get carried away, because the light bearing down on the court is brighter than any game he’s played in before, and the roar of the home crowd is so loud he swears the tremors in his feet are from the floor - but he doesn’t. Because there’s a girl in the VIP stands shouting his name, and maybe it’s childish of him, but he has something to prove - he wants to make her proud.

And he does, because they win.

The entire team is in the locker room when he hears the clatter of familiar footsteps, then a shrieked ‘Mori’ before she tackles him into a bone-crushing hug. Atsumu barks at her ‘not to break our dear libero-chan’, but neither of them pay him any mind - she doesn’t even care that he’s literally dripping in sweat and snot and tears - because they won, they won, they won -

Then he looks up and sees Akaashi staring at them. Ah. The idiot ex-boyfriend has to ruin their moment.

Just as he’s wondering whether his fist should meet Akaashi’s eye or nose first, Bokuto swings by at the moment to distract her. She’s so excited at seeing a familiar face that she disengages herself from their hug and throws her arms around Bokuto instead. Yaku thinks that Bokuto is probably a lot smarter than most people give him credit for as Akaashi approaches him, his hand outstretched.

‘Take care of her’, Akaashi says with a bittersweet smile on his lips. ‘You’re a lucky man’.

He pauses briefly to glance at her - and gods she’s radiant even as she’s chattering away to Bokuto, her eyes sparkling, the light shining softly on her hair - fuck, Atsumu’s right, he’s whipped - and tries to imagine a world where she slips through his hands. Suddenly, the twisted knot of spite in his chest unravels, and he can only feel the dregs of pity pooling in his belly. He's not blind, he can recognise the look of wistful regret on the taller man’s face, and he's certainly not deaf - he suspects that if he listens hard enough, he can hear Akaashi’s heart break.

I know, I’m lucky to have her - he wants to say but does not because that would mean twisting a knife in an already broken man. Instead, he steps forward to take Akaashi’s hand.

‘Always’, he promises firmly. Akaashi inclines his head in thanks.

Her heart is safe in my hands.

She returns to Russia first, and he follows a few weeks later, after a whirlwind of awards and press interviews.

He breaks into a run when he sees her standing at the arrivals gate with a bouquet of red roses and a cheeky grin on her face. ‘You’re rubbing it in at this point’, he pretends to pout, but rather spoils its effect when he swings her into his arms.

She cooks dumplings for dinner and there’s an apple pie waiting for him in the oven. His jaw drops in surprise when the dumplings taste exactly like his mother’s cooking. ‘I learnt it from your mum while you were at training, in case you already miss home’, she teases.

‘But with you, I am home’, he responds, his voice earnest and low. She flushes pink and blushes bright red when he carries her off to bed.

She is his home now, she and their cat in their little flat in Moscow bursting at its seams with apple pies and dumplings and love .

‘I want this to be my forever’, he tells her later, laying his head in her lap. His heart skips a beat, waiting for her response.

‘So do I’, she finally replies, running her hands through his hair. Her heart hums quietly, finally in safe hands.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu #haikyuu fic rec #haikyuu imagines #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!#yaku morisuke #yaku morisuke x reader #nekoma #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi angst #akaashi imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu romance

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commander-kirschtein · 4 years

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modern!au random quirks headcanons for the 104th

have some rather random headcanons that have been living in my brain for the 104th kiddos - mac

masterlist

eren jaeger:

always talks louder than he needs to. this boy doesn’t understand the concept of inside voice.

he gets caught speaking his internal monologue out loud (pretty much canon.)

If it wasn’t for mikasa and armin, he would be late to everything.

doesn’t have auto correct on and types incredibly fast, so expect 5 messages before you can finally understand what he was trying to say first time around.

argues with jean who the best spider-man is. eren thinks it’s toby maguire, jean is strongly for andrew garfield.

mikasa ackerman:

puts four sugars in her tea. she’s got a sweet tooth.

she will baby talk to animals. only in a whisper though because she doesn’t want anyone to hear her being so adorable.

has an almost photographic memory. super good at remembering appointments and people’s birthdays.

likes scrap-booking! she’ll collect tickets/paper souvenirs/stickers and will print off pictures of friends to stick in it. plus she’s amazing at calligraphy style writing so it looks super pretty.

can’t stand artificial light. her bedroom is lit solely by candles.

armin arlert:

knows all the words to asap science’s periodic table song.

can solve a Rubik's cube in 20 seconds.

knows lots of useless trivia. mainly because he spends so much time reading random wikipedia pages.

can’t fall sleep until he’s checked underneath his bed and inside of his wardrobe at least twice (just in case monsters might actually be real.)

has notifications turned off on his phone because they make him nervous, therefore it might take 3-5 working days before armin gets back to your message.

jean kirschtein:

loves peeling the plastic off brand new things - would buy a new phone just to peel the plastic off the screen.

likes to go for random drives at night with the radio playing. preferably in the passenger seat so he can drift off.

the volume of the tv/his phone always has to be an even number.

goes off on tangents - the topic has to change 5 times before he makes his point.

he snores - tell him and he’ll deny it.

sasha braus:

can’t keep herself still. always fiddling with something and will shift weight from foot to foot when standing around.

likes to eat squirty cream straight from the can.

can’t have her nails painted because she instantly gets the urge to peel it off once they’re dry.

can open bottles with her teeth.

makes the corresponding animal noise when she sees an animal. she sees a dog - she barks. she sees a horse - she neighs (much to jean’s dismay.)

connie springer:

puts milk in before cereal. when people ask why he tells them that it’s his way of bringing chaos to the world.

won’t eat the crust on bread/pizza.

his shoes are always untied.

really good at accent and impressions. it’s his best party trick and it always makes everyone laugh.

has to drink everything through a straw. even bottled drinks and cans.

marco bodt:

really good at wrapping presents. at christmas he’s his friends go to present wrapper.

likes to write nice things to his friends on post-it notes. mainly things like ‘i hope your exam goes well today!’ or ‘hoping you have a wonderful day today!’

refuses to curse. he’s just so pure. jean’s making it his life mission to hear marco say ‘fuck’ at least once.

is super giggly and finds everything funny when he’s tired.

panics when going through airport security even though he knows he’s done nothing illegal.

historia reiss/christa lenz:

refers to her friends with pet names only. most common ones are honey, sweetie and lovely.

that friend who always has everything you could possibly need on her: painkillers, plasters, tampons, lip balm - she has it all.

taps her nails on every surface and says ‘asmr’ when she does it.

wakes up early every morning just to see the sunrise and then will go back to sleep. she just thinks it’s pretty.

ymir:

doesn’t sit on chairs normally. big L from death note vibes when it comes to ymir and chairs.

has a denim jacket covered in pins and badges.

she won’t admit it but she’s extremely ticklish. Don’t tickle her though because the consequences are not worth it.

refers to babies as ‘gremlins.’ and sticks her tongue out at little kids who stare at her.

the queen of eavesdropping. knows everything about everyone. don’t get on the wrong side of ymir cause she’s full of blackmail material.

reiner braun:

terrible at singing - but this doesn’t stop him from singing.

so bad at taking compliments. he can dish them out with ease but dies inside if he’s complimented back (please compliment him he needs love.)

gives an active commentary about every film he watches. Don’t take him to the cinema unless you want people to shush you every 10 minutes.

calls all of his friends ‘kiddos’ despite being the sameish age. He’s just such a dad. Speaking of which - he’s a dad dancer and dad joker.

likes to pick up his friends and throw them over his shoulder or bridal carry them by surprise. even bertholdt. especially bertholdt.

bertholdt hoover:

he can do some card/magic tricks. don’t ask him how, he won’t reveal his secrets.

he has freakishly bendy fingers. can do that thing where he pushes his fingers backwards and they touch his wrist.

starts most of his sentences with ‘umm.’

trips over nothing quite often (it’s those long ass legs - but reiner is always there to catch him ;))

likes to listen to minecraft music to fall asleep (okay but sweden is so nice to fall asleep to.)

annie leonhardt:

still sleeps with stuffed animals (so do i there’s no shame in it folks.)

likes to go out for walks listening to music, pretending she’s the main character in a coming of age movie.

everyone will agree that she has the most amazing smile. but you don’t often see it because whenever she does smile she covers it with her hand.

wears socks to bed. especially fluffy ones.

fascinated by reptiles. she wants to have a lizard and a snake as a pet.

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miserablesme · 3 years

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The Les Miserables Changelog Part 4: 1987 Australian Tour

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. Unlike previous parts, this one is not focused on any official libretto changes affecting all productions of the musical. Rather, it looks at a set of changes applied specifically to the 1987-1991 Australian tour. While the tour mostly followed the normal 1987 libretto discussed in the last part of this blog, it did add a few unique touches that are worth discussing here. Many would never make it outside of this particular production; however, a few would in fact be used in later productions of the musical too. Without further ado, let's get started!

The first change I am aware of is in the prologue. Usually the Bishop tells Valjean, "Now God's blessings be with you". In the Australian tour, he instead states "May God's blessings be with you". Not a big edit, but an edit nonetheless.

The next change comes at the beginning of "Lovely Ladies". While originally a sailor sings that "seven days at sea will make you hungry for a poke", the Australian tour switches this to "seven weeks at sea". I suppose this would be a more realistic timeframe for a sailor at the time to be away, and it also makes him come across as slightly less desperate. Having said that, the original sense of desperation fits the mood of the number perfectly.

The very next scene, "Fantine's Arrest", also has a very slight change. While usually Valjean requests "A moment of your time, Javert, I do believe this woman's tale", the word order is swapped so that he instead asks "Javert, a moment of your time, I do believe this woman's tale" in the Australian tour. Not a huge change, nor do I quite know what it was supposed to accomplish, but interesting nonetheless.

In "Who Am I?" Valjean usually asks regarding his workers, "How will they live if I am not free?" The Australian tour changes this slightly to "How will they fare if I am not free?" This slightly changes the mood from a life-or-death situation to a more subtle question of looking out for others' well-being, though it's not a huge difference.

Then, after "Who Am I?" a bit of spoken dialog is added for this tour. Perhaps in acknowledgement of the "You know where to find me!" used in the West End at the time, Valjean shouts "You will find me at the hospital St. John!" after his high note. Similar in spirit to the mostly-scrapped original declaration, though now he doesn't actually trust Javert to figure out his location (which makes more sense to me than the original).

The preamble to "Master of the House" mixes up the genders regarding the bar crowd's lines. First off is the opener, which usually goes as follows:

(FEMALE PATRON)

C'mon you old pest

(MALE PATRON)

Fetch a bottle of your best

(MALE PATRON)

What's the nectar of the day?

In the Australian tour, this is how it goes:

(MALE PATRON)

C'mon you old pest

(MALE PATRON)

Fetch a bottle of your best

(FEMALE PATRON)

What's the nectar of the day?

Usually this was how a later part went:

(MALE PATRON)

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

(FEMALE PATRON)

Just one more

Or my old man is gonna do me in

The Australian tour swapped the sexes of some of those lines, leading to a slightly different final lyric:

(MALE PATRON)

Landlord over here

Where's the bloody man

One more for the road

(FEMALE PATRON)

One more slug of gin

(MALE PATRON)

Just one more

Or her old man is gonna do her in

The ending to the "Waltz of Treachery" has an interesting lyrical edit. Usually Valjean proclaims the following:

Yes, Cosette

Yes it's true

There's a castle just waiting for you

However, the Australian tour gave him this line instead:

Yes, Cosette

Yes it's true

A world of surprises is waiting for you

This gives a much more general promise to Cosette, and is a less direct response to her "Will there be children and castles to see?" question. I'm not sure which I prefer to be honest.

A very small change occurs during "Look Down"; namely, a line originally sung by the ensemble is now sung by just one person. Originally this is how the sequence goes:

(BEGGARS)

See our children fed

Help us in our shame

Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name

(SOLO BEGGAR)

In the Lord's holy name

(BEGGARS)

In His name, in His name, in His name

However, for the Australian tour, "Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name" is sung by one single beggar woman (who is distinct from the beggar woman who sings "In the Lord's holy name"). This change would be adapted into the official libretto much later to account for a staging change in which the beggar singing the line walks by Marius and Enjolras to ask them specifically for some extra cash (as opposed to asking for help more rhetorically, as was originally the implication). I'm curious as to whether or not the Australian tour used a similar staging difference earlier on, or if there was some other reason to make the line an individual one.

A few changes are made to "The Robbery". First off, Thenardier tells Valjean "God rewards all the things that you do" as opposed to the normal line, "God rewards all the good that you do". I slightly prefer the original, though it's not a huge difference.

Finally, Eponine's "It's the p'lice, disappear, run for it, it's Javert!" is bizarrely changed to the rather repetitive "It's the p'lice, disappear, it's the p'lice, it's Javert!" I have no clue what this was supposed to accomplish, because it makes the line far messier than it was before. Perhaps this was the intention, in order to highlight Eponine's unrefined self? Though that doesn't seem particularly relevant to the scene... who knows.

Some significant changes occur during "Stars". Not long after the song's start, Javert's declaration is changed from its original:

A fugitive running

Fallen from grace, fallen from grace

Into the less repetitive:

A fugitive running

Fallen from God, fallen from grace

Personally, I have a soft spot for the original repetition, but i do understand why some would prefer the Lord's name being used instead of the vaguer concept of grace.

Soon afterwards, a few conjunctions are removed. Originally Javert declares:

He knows his way in the dark

But mine is the way of the Lord

And those who follow the path of the righteous will have their reward

However, the Australian production (and the London production not long afterwards) simplified the sequence to:

He knows his way in the dark

Mine is the way of the Lord

Those who follow the path of the righteous will have their reward

I suppose the conjunction-free variant is likely to be easier to sing, since the lyrics are a little less rushed. This variant also separates the lines so that they come across as separate sentences, instead of one long run-on one. However, it does slightly bug me that the later line "And each in its season returns..." maintains its conjunction while the opening verse does not. That strikes me as somewhat inconsistent.

By far my favorite change to "Stars" happens towards the end. Originally, Javert sings:

And so it has been

And so it is written

On the doorway to paradise...

However, the Australian production changes the first line in the sequence:

And so it must be

For so it is written

On the doorway to paradise...

The revised line is much more dramatic and forceful, and makes Javert's final promise all the more powerful. It also sounds less passive, which seems more appropriate for Javert's character.

Philip Quast, who originated the role of Javert in Australia and later returned in 1991, changed the line "We'll be ready for these schoolboys" into "I will join these little schoolboys" during "One Day More". This line arguably makes his intentions a bit clearer, though it carries less threatening implications than the original lyric. Interestingly, however, Quast's replacements in the tour revert to the original line.

A very slight change occurs in "Drink with Me". Instead of Grantaire's "Can it be your death means nothing at all?" he asks "Could it be your death means nothing at all?"

Something weird happens during "Dog Eats Dog". For whatever reason, instead of the usual musical interlude that plays as Valjean carries Marius through the sewers, a similar but slightly different (and in my opinion inferior) variant plays instead. It sounds quite messy in my opinion. I wonder whether or not there was some difference in staging to inspire this different version of the music, or if someone inexplicably just thought it sounded better?

Similarly, the usual music that plays as the Thenardiers awkwardly feign sophistication during the wedding scene is given another in my opinion less polished edit. Nothing much to say here that I haven't said in the context of the last change.

One of the more impactful changes in the long run comes in the epilogue. Originally Fantine and Eponine sung the following line together:

Take my hand

And lead me to salvation

However, the Australian tour gave them the following line instead:

Take my hand

I'll lead you to salvation

This makes a lot more sense, since they have been dead for years and only now is Valjean joining them. Some have argued that because Valjean has become the epitome of good, an almost Christ-like figure, it ends up that he continues to save people even after they have passed away, hence the original lyric. I personally don't buy this at all. I think Fantine and Eponine were clearly good people doing the best they could, and if they still need an outside influence to be considered worthy of salvation that speaks quite poorly of whatever God may exist! The revised line is far better in my opinion, and fortunately it would become the standard worldwide in a few years.

And that just about sums this part up! (Man, it feels good to make such a short, easy post after the hours that went into the last one!) If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

#les mis #the les miserables changelog #les miserables #valjean #javert #changelog #1989 #australian tour #fantine #marius #cosette #eponine #enjolras #thenardier #gavroche #musical

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deniigi · 4 years

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i have been sick in bed with a stomach bug and re-reading a bunch of your series and these questions have plagued me so pls, for the sake of your fellow samuel chung lover, if sammy was in the Selkie verse, would he be a fae? if so, what kind? ALSO, what would his interactions with jack be like (either in the selkie verse or in the lying by omission verse)? pls and thanks <3

hi!

I’ll answer asks in a bit, but for this one I have a fic that explore a What If Jack Lived/Mike existed scenario with Sam in the Inimitable verse? I know it’s now what you asked for, but it is like 4k already written so that might be smth--an LBO Sam would be tricky because Sam would be itty bitty and Matt wouldn’t have the same kind of relationship with him.

As for selkie-verse Sam? I would have to do more research on Chinese spirts/fae/folklore, but for now, he’s not fae, just human 💖He’s like 12 and can make himself invisible though, which would be very confusing for Sue if she ever bumped into him

(Sue: baby boggart??? come here I love you I will look after you.)

(Sam: please stay exactly 5037 feet away from me! Thank you and I’m calling my mom!)

Here is the What If Jack and Mike thing from the Inimitable Verse.

Jack Murdock was the size of a house. He made Matt look dainty. He made Kirsten look like a kids’ mannequin. And he made Foggy laugh until he wept.

Sam could not understand a goddamn thing he said. Nor could he understand the guy he’d brought with him, who appeared to have had some serious plastic surgery to look exactly like Matt.

Sam could take an unintelligible giant. What he couldn’t take was an unintelligible Matt, and before him, somehow, in this ring of ginger, he’d been presented with two unintellible Matts.

His head was spinning.

Kirsten patted at him sympathetically.

“I’m from New York,” Sam told her mournfully.

“I know, hon.”

“How is this even possible? You’re from New York. How are they—what are they saying?”

Kirsten shook her head.

“Only Foggy knows,” she said. “It’s okay, he’ll translate when he gets back up.”

Mr. Murdock, the tallest of the gingers, might have been a good three to four inches taller than his boys, and he might have had the biggest hands that Sam had ever had the opportunity to touch in his life, but he was really nothing but a big, shaggy sheep dog.

The reasons Sam couldn’t understand a single fucking word he said came threefold.

1) Mr. Murdock had grown up in mid-century Hell’s Kitchen. That was just how accents from those parts used to sound. They’d lightened with time.

2) He had an extra layer of what Matt called a ‘brogue.’ He was first-generation American. Both his folks had immigrated from Ireland. He talked halfway between the way they talked and the way that the kids in his neighborhood growing up had.

And 3) The man had a lisp?

It wasn’t super noticeable. Sam sure as shit couldn’t hear it among the other layers of stuff going on, but Foggy said it was there.

Apparently, it came out more when he was anxious.

Apparently, he was anxious a lot.

Foggy told Sam to just give it an hour and he’d understand.

“So your name is Sam?” Mr. Murdock asked him while Sam tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

Matt was holding his facial-copy-cat against the wall by his lapels. The copy-cat had started making kissy noises at him. He egged Matt on to punch him right in the face.

No one was stopping them.

Kirsten cleared her throat and brought Sam back down to earth.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam. Mr., uh—”

“Call me Jack.”

Never.

“Matty hasn’t said much about you, sorry to say.” Mr. Murdock explained. The more he spoke directly to Sam, the more Sam found, to his relief, that he could understand him. “He don’t like sharin’ things his brother can get ahold of and take from ‘im.”

Sam looked from him to the ‘brother.’

“There’s two of them?” he asked.

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“God help us, every one,” he huffed.

You can say that again.

“How long has there been two?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Mm? Oh, uh. Christ with the math,” Mr. Murdock said, “Michael—Michael—boy, you knock that off; that’s how you lose teeth—how old are you now?”

Nevermind. Sam didn’t need to know.

“I’m ageless, Pops, remember?” ‘Michael’ said, grinning at Matt’s sneer in his face, “Everlasting, never dying. Immortal. Timeless. I’m—” Dude got the wind knocked out his sails from Matt aiming for his solar plexus instead of his face.

“Maitiú,” Mr. Murdock said sharply. “He’s your brother.”

“He earned it,” Matt snapped back at his dad. “You said ‘no teeth,’ I ain’t even touched his goddamn teeth.”

“No, you coward, you wouldn’t, would you?” Michael threw back at Matt with no sense in his head. “You scared of gettin’ stuck on all that metal, huh?”

“I ain’t got my tetanus booster,” Matt deadpanned.

“Oh, get the yellow fever one next time, it’s a hoot—”

“I’m mailing you back to Thailand in a crate.”

“Oh mail me, why don’t you?”

“I’m gonna.”

“Boys,” Mr. Murdock said, exasperated. “Knock it off. You love each other. We get it.”

Kirsten shook with giggles.

“I’d drown you in the open ocean and then kill myself,” Matt said through gritted teeth. His nose was maybe an inch from his brother’s.

Michael just beamed.

“Aw, babe. You’d do that for me?” he gushed.

“HHhhh—”

“Maitiú.”

Sam had never heard someone said ‘Matthew’ this way. It was delightful. It made Matt’s shoulders go stiff as a board and then squirm in barely contained fury.

“Thank you,” Mr. Murdock said. “Drop ‘im.”

Matt didn’t want to, but he released his grip on his sibling. Michael slipped down and then caught himself and straightened himself out.

“Well, I’ll never,” he said. “We come all this way to visit you on your deathbed and—”

“I’m not dying,” Matt said.

“—you worry Dad sick for months on end. Don’t call. Don’t write. He thought the Californians had eaten you—"

“—I told him that it was a dislocation and I’m fine—”

“—and of course I told him, ‘no Dad, there ain’t any more cannibals in California than there are in New York’ but who listens to Mike, huh?”

Mr. Murdock had only been in the house for 15 minutes and he already looked exhausted.

“Where are the dogs?” he asked Foggy.

---

This was the weirdest time-out session Sam had ever experienced and he’d decided that he was living for it. Mr. Murdock went out onto the deck and locked himself out there with the dogs. Matt and his brother had never been more guilty.

Quickly the arguing turned towards scheming, which turned towards climbing out a window, which turned towards getting stuck on the roof and pleading with the Father to lend a hand.

Mr. Murdock observed Matt sobbing with laughter over Mike’s sudden anxiety of stepping from the roof to the deck’s arm railing with only hollowness.

“Mike’s not very super,” Sam pointed out to Kirsten.

“Nope,” she said brightly. “He is refreshingly normal,” she said. “Even the conman part.”

The what?

---

Matt climbed off the roof with ease and took the opportunity to finally give his old man a hug, which Mr. Murdock seemed to appreciate. He smoothed a giant mitt of a hand through Matt’s hair tenderly, like he was a baby.

It was kind of cute.

Mike scowled at them both and announced that he was pretty fine, by the way. He’d just stay there on the roof until the vultures got him.

“Matt’s the younger twin,” Foggy told Sam cheerfully. “He can do no wrong.”

Sam felt like he could suddenly see the forest for the trees.

“And Mike?” he asked.

Foggy snickered.

“He and Jack live together to keep each other in good cardiac shape,” he said. “They drive each other nuts.”

“But they still live together?” Sam clarified.

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Mike’s what happens when you give a used-car salesman ever so slightly too much brain. He travels all over. Gets shot at and held hostage a lot. He’ll do just about anything for a couple bucks, no matter how hard Jack’s tried to get him to go straight over the years.”

“And Mr. Murdock? He doesn’t mind his son living with him?” Sam asked.

Kirsten and Foggy softened.

“Matt used to check on him more when we lived back home,” Foggy said. “Without him and Mike, Jack’s by himself. He’s got friends and work, yeah, but you know. If it weren’t for Mike, he’d come home to an empty apartment every night. Man’s got too much head trauma for that to be any kind of good. Mike looks after him—probably more than he lets anyone else. He’s too stubborn to let Matt try to help him.”

Aw, cute.

“Be prepared, Sammy,” Foggy said. “Jack’s already adopted you.”

Say what now?

---

Mr. Murdock didn’t outright say that Sam was puny and he was going to fix it, but Sam could see it in his disappointed gaze.

“Don’t like bread?” he asked as Sam chewed his way through an Uncrustable at the kitchen table. Sam froze with the sandwich in hand. He stared at it.

It was bread.

Surely, this was bread.

Right?

“Uh?” he tried.

“Don’t like the crusts?” Mr. Murdock asked him more gently.

Oh.

“I don’t mind them, these are premade though. You know, convenient,” Sam explained.

He got a stare impossible to read.

“Stay there,” Mr. Murdock decided.

It took too long for Sam’s brain to work out what had just happened, and by the time it had, it was too late. Matt stuck his head in the room and asked Sam why he’d told his dad that Matt was starving him.

Sam floundered and tried to explain the sandwiches. Matt absorbed this and rolled his whole head.

“Well, now he’s makin’ a week’s worth for you,” he sighed. “Wants you to eat the crust.”

Dude.

“It’s easier not to question it,” Matt sighed. “What kind of jelly do you want?”

---

Matt didn’t interrogate his father, but Mike did. Unrepentantly. He walked in as Sam was emphasizing that he didn’t want any kind of jelly and he’d make his own sandwiches and understood the entire situation faster than Sam could have possibly explained it.

“FATHER,” he roared. “Leave the boy alone, he’s not starvin’, he’s just short.”

Flattering. Thanks, asshole.

There was no response from the kitchen. Matt told Mike to ease off. Mr. Murdock was trying to be nice.

“There’s nice and then there’s rude,” Mike said.

“And you’re rude?” Matt offered.

There was a pause.

A warm hand found the space in between Sam’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry about both of ‘em, kid, they got rocks for brains, it ain’t their fault. Our grandfather was a caveman, you know how it is,” Mike said kindly.

Matt was not amused.

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeated. “I’ll eat ‘em if Sam doesn’t want ‘em.”

“And subject yourself to peanut butter hell for multiple days in a row, Maitiú?” Mike asked, scandalized.

Matt glared in the direction of the stairs.

“Some of us enjoy nut protein,” he said.

Sam blinked in shock as big hands slapped themselves over his ears.

“There are children present,” Mike hissed.

Sam found the guy’s middle fingers and yanked. Mike swore. Matt chuckled.

“He ain’t a baby,” he said fondly. “Sam’s a tough cookie.”

You’re damn right he was.

“Charming,” Mike grumbled as Matt abandoned them for the kitchen again. He scowled down at Sam. “What’s your gimmick then?” he asked.

Sam wondered if he could make his contacts come out by blinking slowly enough. It would be cool as fuck. It definitely wasn’t happening.

“I control typhoons,” he said.

Mike winced.

“Fuckin’ vigilantes,” he said.

---

Mr. Murdock gave Sam a second sandwich. He’d cut it into quarters.

“Matt says you don’t like jelly,” he said. “Bananas are better?”

Sam couldn’t help but like him.

“Yeah. I don’t eat much bread generally,” he said. “My family has always been more about rice.”

Mr. Murdock analyzed him.

“I can do rice,” he said.

Bless. It was okay, really.

“Do you like spicy things, Mr. Murdock?” Sam asked.

“Jack.”

Nice try.

“Spicy?” Sam repeated.

Mr. Murdock considered it.

“Not sure,” he said. “You mean like hot sauce? I ain’t fuck with that ghost pepper shit.”

Sam hummed.

“Before you leave, I’ll cook for you in return,” he said. “I won’t make it too spicy, cross my heart.”

Mr. Murdock considered this and then got a look in his eye that made Sam’s cheeks start to ache a little.

---

Matt told Sam to play nice. Matt told his father to play nice.

There was to be no hiding chilis in Mike’s pasta.

They were caught and scolded.

“Not to worry,” Mr. Murdock told Sam fondly, “There are other ways.”

---

Sam had never seen such outrage over a knot in a shoelace. Matt crossed his arms over his chest, seconds away from tapping his own foot.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded Mike for the fourth time.

“I know what I said,” Mike snapped at him. He’d dug through all the kitchen drawers to procure a metal skewer to apply to this situation.

“We’re going to be late,” Matt said. “I wait for my guide, she doesn’t wait for me.”

“Well she’s waitin’ today,” Mike said. “I swear to god—”

Mr. Murdock stroked the top of Tuesday’s head and asked Mike if he’d tried putting baby powder on it. Mike spat at him to mind his own business and went back to the knot. He managed it get it untangled and the shoe half on just in time to find the second one stuck in the third hole down.

He just about vibrated with fury.

Matt sighed loudly.

“Borrow mine already,” he said.

“Never.”

“Mike.”

“They’re blue. This outfit tolerates only warm colors, Matthew. ONLY warms.”

“We’re late.”

“Style waits for no man.”

“Well, clearly that ain’t the case, is it?”

Mike stood up sharply.

“I’m going to change,” he said. “And whatever elf tied these will rue the day. Mark my words.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll tell the elf—oh, my bad, the clown, Mike. It’s you. Get your life together. We’re late.”

Hilarious.

---

“Why don’t you move out here?” Sam asked Mr. Murdock as he watched Sam sand away at his latest secret project in Matt’s absence.

“Sun’ll kill me,” Mr. Murdock deadpanned.

“I thought so too, but it’s not so bad,” Sam said. “I miss the snow sometimes.”

Mr. Murdock cocked his head and then knelt down to take the sanding block out of Sam’s hands. He gestured for Sam to give him the hunk of wood in his hands, too.

“Matty says you don’t got papers,” he said.

Sam was surprised. Matt usually kept that secret locked tight. But Mr. Murdock didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction to it.

“No,” Sam admitted. “My mom brought me here when I was really little. I didn’t know what it meant to overstay a visa.”

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“Makes flying tricky,” he said.

Yeah.

“Bus, not too bad, though?”

Mm. Bus was better, yes.

“Train?”

Depended on the train.

“Hm. Well, if you get homesick or need busfare, you just give a shout, ya hear? You’re always welcome to stay with us.”

Aww.

“Or if you really hate yourself, I’m sure Mike would love to come pick you up.”

Oh god.

“He can drive?” Sam asked.

Mr. Murdock paused and held his face in his dusty palm.

“The day he got his license was the worst day of my life,” he said.

Sam snickered.

“Did you guys drive all the way here?” he asked.

“No, thank god.”

“Can you drive?”

“Son.”

Sam looked up from the block of wood into Mr. Murdock’s hazel eyes.

“I take two steps out of New York and I’m gone, that’s me dead. No, I don’t drive. Why the hell would I drive? Where the hell am I goin’?”

Wow, mood.

“I tried to drive once,” Sam said. “Reversed into a fire hydrant. Matt laughed so hard he cried.”

Mr. Murdock handed back the woodblock. It was much smoother than it had been. Sam was chocking that up to the muscles and the practice.

---

Matt and Mike got home and Mike announced that he was disowning that ‘putrid being’ that was the Swamp Monster beside him. Matt told Mr. Murdock that Mike didn’t approve of the swimming part of triathlon.

Mr. Murdock picked leaves out of his hair with supreme patience.

---

“So Dad’s officially decided that you’re his grandson,” Mike informed Sam out of nowhere that Sunday. “He prayed for you at church today.”

Sam almost dropped his wrench. That was so endearing his teeth hurt.

“It’s ‘cause I do woodwork,” he said. “He can smell the handyman on me.”

Mike cocked his head to the side. His eyes were blue like Matt’s. Their mom must have had blue eyes—or maybe hazel like Mr. Murdock’s.

“No,” Mike said. “It’s ‘cause he’s also been a grocery bagger, a janitor, and a contractor.”

He what now?

“He wants to know why you aren’t in college.”

Oh. well—

“Matt tried to explain, but you know, it ain’t clickin’. He don’t get the politics part of things sometimes. Gets confused why people make such a big deal when there’s obvious solutions in front of ‘em. It’s not all his fault, he barely got a highschool diploma back when ‘critical thinking’ wasn’t even a testing category. Anyways, he wants you to go to college. Thinks you’re too smart to be pushin’ paper.”

Sam was going to cry.

“I think he sees a lot of Matt in you,” Mike said with a squint. “So just as a warning, he’s unbearable. Always—well, no. More like 95% of the year. He’s alright around New Years when he’s tired. You can tell him to fuck off at any time, though.”

No, no. It was okay. It was nice to have…more family. That’s what it was.

“I hope you know what this means, Samuel,” Mike said.

Mmm no?

Mike’s hand clasped his shoulder.

“You can call me ‘uncle,’” he said.

Ah.

No, thanks.

---

Foggy and Kirsten couldn’t look at Sam without bursting into merciless laughter, which Sam had realized was a result of Mike’s vocal distress at his rejected offer of uncle-dom. Sam didn’t know what to tell him.

Mr. Murdock was nice. Enormous, yes, but very well meaning and gentle. His and Sam’s priorities and experience in life aligned neatly and Sam was slightly charmed by the way that he expressed himself verbally only to Matt and Mike.

Sam also didn’t hate Mike. He just didn’t want him to have uncle privileges. He didn’t see what was difficult about this.

“Mike’s got a history of rejection,” Foggy said. “And by that, I mean that every woman on the eastern seaboard has rejected him and he tries anyways.”

---

Matt came downstairs and told Sam to ignore everything Mike said to him all day. He also said that they were going out that night, so don’t burn fingers on the soldering iron.

Sam saluted in acknowledgement.

Forty minutes later there was a rap at his door followed by Mike saying through it that he wanted to show Sam something.

Sam did not open the door.

He heard Matt’s name being cursed on the other side.

---

Twenty minutes later there was another knock, this time with Mike saying that Mr. Murdock wanted to bond with Sam.

Sam nudged open his curtains and squinted hard into the backyard where he could see the vague shape of Matt chatting to his dad on the deck stairs, both apparently having a beer and shooting the shit.

This was a scam.

Sam would not be scammed.

He went back to the suit.

There was more cursing outside the door.

---

About half an hour later, there was a knock, followed by Mr. Murdock’s voice this time, asking Sam if his shoes were supposed to be on the front porch.

They were not.

This was playing dirty.

Sam ventured out to go right this wrong and ended up outside on the front porch with the conman himself. Mike closed the door after him triumphantly and proceeded to get them both locked out.

“Are you supposed to be a good conman or?” Sam asked.

Mike gaped at him.

“The best conman,” he said. “Don’t worry, kid, I’ve broken into a thousand houses and won two horses. I’ve got this.”

That was not comforting. Sam was not comforted.

“First, we gotta test all the windows, and, failing that, we get a rock or a gun,” Mike told him with a knowing finger.

Sam blinked at it and then up at Mike. The man’s shoulders twitched.

“Uh?” Mike said.

Ah. The eyes. No contacts today.

“Do you like them? They’re Prada,” Sam said to absolute silence.

“A brick,” Mike announced abruptly. “A brick works too. Like a rock but bigger.”

Okay, so they weren’t talking about it, gotcha. Look, a whole family’s worth of repression styles. Sam was glad that they had a full set of methods.

---

Sam broke into his own bedroom through the window. Mike clapped for him outside. Sam opted to leave him there.

---

He was sort of sad to see the Murdocks go, especially after seeing the effect that the most senior of them had on Matt.

Sam hadn’t seen him this chilled out. He visibly relaxed under his dad’s hand on the back of his neck. He tolerated the fussing and constant hair fixing and the fingers brushing at his cheeks and elbows. Mr. Murdock guided him with the same practiced ease that Foggy and Kirsten did, but his guiding was accompanied by a quiet, ongoing commentary about the street around them, which Sam hadn’t actually heard Foggy do in the same kind of way.

It was like Mr. Murdock was telling Matt a story everywhere they went.

He told him when there were flags hanging up a story above, waving in the wind. He told him about the hanging wire baskets of flowers that Sam forgot about. He huffed a bit while he talked about lines of traffic in the street and a vast lack of color in the group due to the absence of so many yellow cabs.

Mr. Murdock of course, had been Matt’s first ever guide. It only made sense that he had a specialized style of it, just for Matt.

And for Matt’s sake, Sam didn’t want him to go, but alas, New Yorkers, man. The city called them back to the coast like a siren.

“You take it easy, y’hear, kiddo?” Mr. Murdock told him at the airport.

Sam smiled and said that he’d try.

“Take care of yourself. I mean that. Out at night too.”

Copy that, big guy.

“Give us a hug.”

Oh??? A hug??? Sam loved hugs. Hugs were great. He was—er. Leaving this one with double the ribs from the cracks apparently.

Mr. Murdock released him to go break Matt in half and then Foggy and then Kirsten. Mike told him that he couldn’t avoid flying again by hugging people. He also warned Kirsten that he’d see her soon and that then, she was sure to fall for his charms.

Kirsten said that she would be waiting with bated breath, and then that was it. Three Murdocks again whittled down to one.

“God, I should have married your dad,” Foggy moaned.

Matt laughed at him.

“He’s plenty busy avoiding the gaze of every person over sixty in his building. Let him live,” he said. “Sam? Not too traumatized, I hope?”

Mm. Not so bad.

“Are you sure Mike’s your brother?” he asked.

“Unfortunately.”

Too bad.

“It’s fine, if we ever need a guy to distract the police, we’ve got him on retainer.”

That was true.

“They’ll come back?” Sam asked.

Matt paused before feeling for his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or we’ll go to them. I think you’d enjoy watching them in their natural environment.”

-----------

Hope that’s something for you anon!! I also hope you feel better!

#samuel chung #jack murdock #matt murdock #mike murdock #inimitable verse #fic #ficlet

103 notes · View notes

waifstarion · 3 years

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I don’t think there is any harm in the baby Jack posts as he is in canon a baby, we only ever see him from age 0-3, it’s his 4th birthday next month. Never in canon has it stated Jack is autistic or coded as such, those quirks we see are canon as an angel not fitting in on earth, Castiel does it all the time. I believe it’s only really Gabriel who doesn’t have this issue as he’s been on earth for a very long time. I have quite a few traits in common with Jack from another condition that is not autism but overlaps, along with others (my condition sadly is very hard to diagnose for this reason, so a lot of people are often misdiagnosed as something else) I don’t post how angry that makes me as people are appropriating my condition and babying my traits (even if I do need help sometimes dressing myself right) If people are happy making Jack a baby then they should be allowed to post that. Jack only aged himself up after Kelly told him the world was unsafe, now Chuck has gone there’s no reason why Jack wouldn’t deage himself back to a toddler to finally experience playing on swings, slides and all the fun things with Castiel and Amara by his side. In a way too, the baby Jack is also a coping mechanism, in canon Jack left and Sam and Dean never seen him again, Sam lived at least 40 years without seeing Jack ever again and even in heaven, Jack wasn’t there 😭😭😭 so to draw or headcanon a small child who may need Sam to cut off the crust on his bread sandwiches, or Dean to read him a story and it be Game of Thrones or something... then that’s how that fan is coping with the true sad ending of Jack’s arc. We know he is with Castiel, he’s happy but Sam and Dean never learned that until after they died.

we would consider him a baby age-wise, as he is never older than three. however, seeing as he was born in a body roughly the age of eighteen, give or take a couple years (based on sam giving 2000 as his fake birth year when he was in the hospital and the cut line from 13x06). jack is never mentally an infant. he may have had the mentality of a younger child in his early episodes, but it doesn’t take too long for him to reach the mindset of a teenager. even at the end of the show, his mental age is probably around late adolescence or early adulthood (though that is up for interpretation). while he may be a baby in a very literal sense of the word (ie age-wise), he is not a baby in his mental state or appearance, which is what truly matters.

jack’s autism coding is all up to interpretation, however, i very intentionally use the term coding due to the fact that it is never outright stated in canon. coding typically isn’t confirmed within the actual show, otherwise i would have simply called it canon. another prominent character with autism coding (which was confirmed by ben edlund in the s6 commentary) is castiel, who just so happens to be a strong basis for jack’s character. many of the other angels are seen exhibiting neurotypical behaviours. angels such as naomi, balthazar, metatron, and many more do not display the traits that cas does. significantly, misha has said in numerous interviews that while his initial intention was to portray cas as something unhuman and unaware of human customs, not a single other actor did the same. as a result, this left cas as the odd one out, firmly establishing that this behaviour is just cas being himself, not an inherent side effect of being an angel. furthermore, the angels frequently make comments about cas being an outlier who doesn’t fit in, and make comments about it being a fundamental difference (eg. coming off the line with a crack in his chassis) rather than a learned behaviour. circling back to the autistic coding of cas and jack, it is never outright stated that either one is autistic, however there are traits that lead people to believe they are. this post does a good job of illustrating some potential autistic coding in jack. while it may not be intentional, it is certainly there, and a very prevalent interpretation within fandom. i'm sorry to hear that people infantilize your condition. i respect the fact that you make the personal decision not to make angry posts about it, as that is your prerogative. however, it is also mine to make a post about a pattern of behaviour i (and others) have noticed in fandom. the intention of my post is to encourage people to notice such patterns, and to draw their attention to it as there could be many people who never considered it from this point of view.

i never said they aren’t allowed to post it. on the contrary, i reblog posts about it on a semi-frequent basis. that being said, i find that there is a difference between sometimes posting about it versus exclusively portraying him as a baby and never talking about him as a person. in my post, i very clearly stated that it was about people posting it constantly and exclusively portraying him as an infant, which was my phrasing verbatim. it can be fun to portray characters in different ways, but in my opinion it becomes a problem when you constantly erase his character and backstory just to be a prop for a ship or your favourite character.

as for him wanting to deage himself, he has never indicated that. quite the contrary, he has been bothered when he is not taken seriously or seen as incapable. he wants to be capable and independent. it doesn’t make sense for him to want to limit himself mentally and physically so he becomes entirely reliant on those around him. he would lose essentially all of his autonomy, and i doubt that would be enjoyable for him. if he wants to go on a swing or a slide, no one’s stopping him in his current state. he can do plenty of the typical fun things while still being in his current form.

as it is, i don’t think that jack would be yearning for the stereotypical ideal childhood. no one jack has been around has had a normal, stable childhood. the bros, cas, rowena, etc all had abnormal and unstable childhoods. he was very briefly in his mother’s childhood heaven and that’s about the extent of it. even then, her heaven just consisted of her house with her dog. jack had a house and a pet, which he could easily view it as similar. even the tv shows we know he watches (clone wars, the walking dead, and riverdale) all seem to deal with people who do not get to experience real childhoods. he may not even be aware of the extent he is missing out on. even if he is aware, he may be perfectly fine with that and content with the memories he has already.

citing sam and dean’s preferences in and of itself is endemic to the issue of the constant baby jack posting. to be blunt, i don’t really care about what sam and dean want him to present himself as. they made little to no attempt to care for him as it was, so why should jack sacrifice his autonomy just so they can get some enjoyment out of it? in the finale, they barely even noticed his absence. you mention sam living forty years without him, yet he couldn’t be bothered to include a single photo of him in his house. jack shouldn’t have to change himself to make people happy. he should be himself, with complete autonomy, and loved for that. there is no true sad ending of jack’s arc. he’s happy with cas, just as you said. cas loved him unconditionally and was the only one who believed in him the entire time. cas wasn’t fazed when jack was an adult instead of the baby he had anticipated. he was happy to be with his son, regardless of what form that took.

the way cas and jack operate heaven is also left largely up to interpretation. all we know is that sam and dean are now there in the same place of them. it can easily be interpreted that they are all spending time together if that’s what you so please. it could very well be amara, cas, or another character that runs heaven. we don’t even know if there is anyone who needs to be in charge. it may run autonomously at this point and allow for jack to go off on whatever little hijinks he pleases

there are ways to write about tfw and jack post finale without erasing his personality and turning him into a prop. the entire issue is the fact that jack keeps getting used as a prop, and his tag consists almost exclusively of content where he is used as an accessory for other characters. all i’m asking is for people to stop constantly infantilizing him and to take the time to portray him as a fleshed out character sometimes.

#this ask has literally been taking up my brain’s real estate since i woke up #the market is already very oversaturated i can’t dwell on things too long #anyway i tried answering this earlier but i only typed three words before tombstone script dropped so yknow #jack kline #anonymous #i prefer the word trusting. less dumb. less ask.

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lizacstuff · 4 years

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Sen Çal Kapımı / Edser Asks

After the fragman, I got a few anons this afternoon, my answer are under the cut.

(Also my initial reactions are in this post.)

Anonymous said: In the spirit of optimism- when Eda broke up with Serkan in 25, everyone freaked out but by the end of the next episode, she proposed LOL. Maybe just maybe they won’t do the “everyone pretends Selin and Serkan are a thing for medical reasons for multiple episodes” route and someone gets her kicked to the curb in 29. I wonder how much of the 2.5 hrs will be before he comes back and how much is after.

LOL, I certainly would like Selin to be back for only one episode. I hope my speculation is right (this post,)and her narrative purpose is to make Serkan distrust Eda from the start and once she’s done that she can exit stage right.

As for the theory you mention, which I have seen on twitter, I don’t see people pretending they’re together for medical reasons. That makes zero sense to me (not that medical diagnosis on a silly romantic dramedy dizi would be accurate, lol) why would that be necessary? Why would anyone go along with that? Especially when all he would need to do is google himself to find out about his relationship with Eda. They were all over the tabloids and on the cover of a magazine. Plus it seems like he knows about Eda, Selin tells him "she turned you into someone you’re not and dragged you into a different world.” He has to know they were in a relationship.

There is a lot of knee-jerk hysteria over there right now which is leading to completely neurosis-induced, nonsensical, worst-case scenario speculation. I recommend avoiding for awhile if anyone is easily upset by that type of thing.

As for the timeline of the ep, great question. I am hoping that the walk into ArtLife is not the end of the episode. We’re going to need to see Serkan and Eda meeting face to face before this episode is up in order to survive! We know almost the full cast (including Hande and Kerem) were shooting at a cafe yesterday, and the cast looked dressed up. Most thought it was for 1x28, so that seems like there are scenes with Serkan and the full cast in this ep.

Though, the show has a lot of questions to answer. How in God’s name did he end up in that cabin? Did he get on the plane or not? Was he held captive and got dropped in the woods with only Selin’s phone number? Has he been in a coma? Was there foul play involved? Was there a brain injury or did Babaanne arrange his kidnapping and give him some experimental drug to wipe out his memories of Eda?

Not sure if this Deniz is a law enforcement official or some sort of private detective, but there would have been some sort of official inquiry and search when he went missing. So he can’t just be lazing around for 2 months, easily findable. And Selin can’t have been with him for anything length of time without the others knowing he’s alive, because that would pretty much be kidnapping. So what HAPPENED?

Anonymous said: I hope we get good Eda and Aydan moments. She didn’t get married but she is still Aydan’s daughter now. He’s going to come back and find that this woman has his mother, his company, his dog, his car, his friends.....there’s no way that he doesn’t just know that Selin has been a snake.

Yes, please! I’m sure we will get Eda and Aydan moments, it looks from the first trailer that they will lean on each other while he’s missing. Which they should, they’ll be the two that will hold out hope and give one another comfort.

I am LOVING that Eda is driving his car and taking care of his dog. As she should, they were hours away from being married! And yes, you’re correct, he’s going to find Eda so deeply embedded in everything he remembers (except Selin) that it’s going to drive him crazy. Who is this woman and how did she ensorcell him so thoroughly? Can’t wait for him to find out.

You know what I’m most looking forward to in regards to Aydan? Serkan’s shock that his mother has conquered her agoraphobia. Can’t wait for him to find out that Eda was instrumental in helping her do that.

She is going to hit him like an emotional freight train. A second time.

Anonymous said: i know most of the fandom has already accepted it as fact bc they can't wait for the actual ep to make conclusions, but i'm less inclined to believe he's been in that cabin w/ selin for 2 months.. idk HOW he gets there, or how selin ends up there.. but for some reason i think they find him first, and he takes off by himself for a bit as he's overwhelmed with the whole situation.. and then selin enters. idk, we'll have to see it, but i think, like all trailers, it's confusing on purpose.

This theory is definitely possible. That he’s found and freaks out and goes to the cabin. Perhaps the last he remembers he was still with Selin so he reaches out to her for answer about what’s going on. That would make sense why he accepts her comfort, and she gives it, but can’t help herself from trying to do everything in her power to make him distrust Eda. Even if she doesn’t have hope of reconciliation, just to cause chaos because she doesn’t want them to find happiness together. She’s said it more than once, she didn’t want him happy, while she was not.

Anonymous said: I am not emotionally prepared to watch the look on Eda’s face when Serkan walks in holding hands with Selin after being missing for the last two months....😭😭😭. Also even if Serkan & Selin are purely platonic watching their scenes together are going to be brutal. I am prepared to cry ( both tears of joy & sadness) & be very mad at various points in this episode. It will be an rollercoaster of emotions for sure.

Yep, pretty much all of this! I don’t think I’m going to enjoy watching this episode at all. However, my hope is that I will really enjoy watching the storyline that it sets up where we get to watch Serkan fall in love with Eda all over again. Think of all the delicious, UST-y, sexy, funny, fiery, passionate scenes that are in store for us!

Off the top of my head, things I want:

Serkan opening Madonna in a Fur Coat and finding their photo

Serkan’s deep-seated memory kicking in and mindlessly tearing the crusts off bread for her without realizing it or knowing why

Finding out his computer password and what it means

Seeing photos of them from their matchmaking party. Looking so in love and surrounded by friends and family and everyone looks so happy

One of the friends, Engin or Piril snapping and telling him the big change Eda brought about in him was just that he was happy

Serkan seeing media clippings of them and their relationship

Eda handcuffing him so they have to spend time together while trying to jog his memory

After being suspicious and trying to keep her at arms length, Serkan finally breaking down and asking her questions about their relationship

Serkan being mistrustful of her, but still unable to say no to her

Anonymous said: So I get that SCK is going through a reset and now we will get to watch Eda & Serkan fall in love again but seriously they brought Selin back like that...WTF? Now she is even worse than Balca. Plus the entire world thinks Serkan is dead but somehow Selin found him and never bothered to tell anyone else...that should send up some red flags for sure. Regardless of the explanation, this situation is going to crush Eda. And it seems like a lot to go through to have him immediately get his memories back so we could be stuck with this storyline for a while.

Yes, poor Eda is going to be crushed no matter what. However, I know that people have been theorizing that the memory loss would be short, but I never thought it would be. What’s the point of this reset unless they’re going to follow through with it and milk it for as many episode as possible. They’re trying to find ways to keep this show going and this is their big swing.

The entire point is to recreate the magic of Eda and Serkan falling in love, and, honestly, I'm not sure why anyone would want that to be over in 2 episodes. I don’t see it as being stuck with the amnesia story, I’m excited for all the parallels, watching Serkan get struck by lightning a second time when he first sees her. Watching him be suspicious of her, of her motives of her abilities, but then finding out all the same things that he found out the first time, that she’s fierce, kind-hearted, loyal and talented. And just a bright shining light for him.

My heart melts just thinking about it. We just have to get rid of that opportunistic, malevolent, bitter hag.

Anonymous said: one complaint that i've seen in regards to sck is that characters aren't sent off properly.. but outside of maybe fifi (which we don't know how they'll explain her leaving) am i the only one that doesn't... really care? everyone that's left has been unsubstantial or in a villain role, and personally whatever way they leave i'm fine with lol.. i know when selin left ppl were mad bc they wanted a redemption story arc for her.. but not every character NEEDS that by default, if that makes sense.

For context, this ask was sent before the fragman. I agree with you, no side character needs redemption by default. I’ve said it many times, but on this specific show, really only two characters matter: Eda and Serkan. This is their story. Their love story. Everyone else is supporting in the truest sense of the word. They all exist to prop up the A story. So for most of them their journey doesn’t matter unless it directly affects Eda or Serkan. (Aydan’s growth and redemption has directly impacted Eda and Serkan and that’s why time has been spent on it). Selin is a tool. She’s behaved erratically at time because she only exists for the writers to use her to antagonize the protagonists. Her story in and of itself does not matter.

I laughed hysterically when some on twitter were thinking Serkan might really be dead and Kerem was leaving the show.

Seriously? You think they would try to keep this show going without Edser? That anyone would pay money for it, without them? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! If one of them were to leave, the show would be over. Dead. Cancelled. There is NO reason for this show to keep going other than for more Edser. Everything else is an after thought, filler, or characters that prop up Eda and Serkan either literally or symbolically or thematically. Nothing else stands on it’s own.

They devised this storyline in order to go back to the magic of these two people falling in love. Full stop. That’s why we’re seeing this reset. Because no other characters or their storylines are compelling enough to carry the show. I applaud the writers for creating a situation where we could watch Serkan fall in love with Eda one more time. (just get rid of Selin, please, so I can enjoy it... and do it quickly.)

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen Cal Kapimi #edser #sck speculation #sck spoilers #sckask #sck 1x29 #asklizac #anonymous

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

based on the prompt: “when I was five, I was hunting shark teeth on Miami Beach and just kept finding tooth after tooth with my little plastic sleuce. I was so proud of my collection. Only 20 years later did I find out that my mom’s boyfriend had bought a bag of shark teeth at the gift shop and scattered them around while I was distracted.”

@shireness-says is the queen of finding posts and then having me write words based off of them, even more so if I can somehow make those words involve some captain cobra and then, of course, my favorite thing: all of the banter and romance ❤️

This little thing is also fully my way to give a little bit of happiness since I know 70% of you are mad at me for the last few chapters of What a Wicked Game . it gets better very soon.

found on ao3 | here | ; rating: for everyone ; ~4400 words

-/-

Emma’s forgetting something.

She knows that she is. She’s practically always forgetting something, and since she’s making the effort to drive across town to the beach with Henry, she just knows that there’s something that she’s going to forget. Then she’ll have to go into one of those tourist shops and spend fifty bucks on the smallest bottle of sunscreen known to mankind all because she forgot the sunscreen.

Did she pack the sunscreen?

She had to have done that. That was in the top five things she needed to pack.

Towels, extra clothes, food, water, sunscreen.

And then beach toys, medicine, a comb, band-aids for when Henry inevitably figures out a way to get a cut…oh, an umbrella. She needs an umbrella.

Wait, Killian was in charge of getting that, wasn’t he?

Shit. She doesn’t remember what exactly she told Killian to bring, and she definitely should have paid more attention to that.

She has to be more put together than this, doesn’t she? She usually is, she swears, but this whole Henry spending the day with Killian is freaking her out more than it should. They’ve met, several times actually, and it’s always gone well. Henry’s six. He doesn’t really get the whole concept of his mom dating someone because he’s never really seen it before. There was almost that time with Walsh, but Emma chickened out at the last minute. Then Walsh got pissed that she wouldn’t let him meet her kid, like she owed him something, and that was the end of that.

But they’ve met. It went well.

Why is she freaking out?

“Because you really like him, you idiot,” she whispers to herself, which kind of makes her even more of an idiot.

That’s all just par for the course right now.

“Who are you talking to?” Henry asks as he walks into the kitchen. The kid is wearing a pair of jeans, no shirt, one sock, and a hat that she knows isn’t hers and is far too big for his head.

“No one,” Emma tells him. “What are you wearing, kid?”

“You told me to get dressed for the beach.”

“Why do you think jeans are what you’re supposed to wear to the beach? Is that what you wear to the pool?”

“No, but the beach has sand.”

“So you have to wear jeans?”

“Yep.” He climbs up onto the kitchen stool and sits down, wide, toothy grin on his face. “So, can we go? I packed all of my toys.”

What an adorable kid. How did she get so lucky for him to be hers?

…wait. All of his toys?

“Henry Swan,” Emma sighs, “go to your room and put every toy that is not allowed in the shower back, and take those jeans off and put on your swimsuit with the anchors on it. Also, ditch the socks.”

“Do I have to?”

“Unless you want to smell like a wet dog, yes.”

“I like dogs.”

Emma huffs and shakes her before pointing her finger down the hall. “Go. We’ve still got to make our sandwiches.”

Henry grumbles something that she probably doesn’t want to hear, but then he’s climbing down off the stool and walking down the hallway. She has no faith in him to actually manage to put on the right clothes and not bring everything he owns, but she’ll let that be the last thing she does so that way he doesn’t manage to change everything up before they leave.

There’s a knock on the apartment door, and Emma glances toward it, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

This is not a big deal, she reminds herself. This is not a big deal at all.

Swallowing her nerves, she puts down the knife she was going to use to cut bread up and heads toward the door. Emma takes a deep breath, her stomach fluttering, but that’s not unfamiliar as of late. It’s aching familiar, actually, and she’s not sure if she loves it or hates it.

Hates it because she’s not that kind of girl.

Loves it because maybe she wants to be.

“Hey,” she says in greeting as she opens the door to Killian.

He, unlike Henry, was able to dress himself in a pair of black trunks that are maybe a little too tight on his thighs for public and a gray t-shirt, baseball cap that actually fits his head pulled down low so that she can’t see the wisps of long hair that usually fall on his forehead. When they met, he had short hair that was nearly cropped to his scalp, but now that he’s retired from the Navy, he’s letting it grow out. She likes it. It falls off his forehead and over the nape of his neck in a slight wave, but she does kind of miss when it was short but long enough for him to style with gel. It’d all come undone when she’d run her hands through it, and she has this vivid memory of one piece falling on his forehead and making him look so young that she could scarcely believe it.

“Hello, love,” he greets before dipping his head down and pressing his lips against hers. It’s dirty but surprisingly quick, and she knows that’s just because he’s aware that Henry is around. When she meets him at his place, he kisses her differently, and really, she shouldn’t be noticing these things and categorizing them into her little boxes. “Am I allowed to say that I am very interested in what you have underneath this shirt of yours or are there young ears listening?”

Emma rolls her eyes and presses up on her toes to kiss him again, much slower this time so she can savor the hint of coffee on his lips. “He’s getting dressed again.”

“Again?”

“He was wearing jeans, no shirt, and a hat that I think must be yours.”

“Was it a Pirates cap?”

“It was.”

“Damn, I knew I’d left that somewhere.”

Emma chuckles and backs away from him, trailing her hand down his arm. “You’re not even from Pittsburg. Why are you a Pirates fan?”

“Because my best mate was when we were kids, and it stuck.”

“And your loyalties are too deep now?”

“Absolutely.” Killian closes the door behind him and saunters – and she’s not exaggerating when she uses that word – over to her small kitchen and picks up the knife she was using. “Do you need help making lunch?”

“No, I can do it.”

“Turkey, lettuce, cheese for the boy,” Killian hums as he starts placing slices of turkey on a piece of bread, “and no crust, aye? You want the same thing but with tomatoes, and do you want any condiments? I don’t think they’ll travel well. Maybe we can bring them separately.”

“Killian, seriously. I can make us lunch.”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” He waves her away with a flash of his teeth. “Go see if Henry needs help getting dressed. I feel like he should be finished by now.”

“I’m sure he’s destroying his room.”

Killian winks. “That’s why you need to go and check, Swan.”

Henry isn’t destroying his room, surprisingly. He’s dressed in exactly what he’s supposed to be dressed in, and he’s sitting on the floor surrounded by all of his toys that he must have emptied out of his bag. Emma walks into his room and settles down beside him. “What are we thinking about, kid?”

“If I want to find buried treasure, I need one of those coin things.”

“Coin things?”

“Yeah, those things that Mrs. Klein uses to look for coins and it makes all that noise like when you set food on fire.”

Emma laughs and pushes her shoulder into Henry. “A metal detector?”

“Yeah!” he says excitedly, “but all I have are my shovels, and how am I supposed to find shark teeth with those?”

“Wait. I thought we were looking for buried treasure. When did we switch to shark teeth?”

“Avery found a shark tooth, and I want one.”

She sighs and nods before leaning forward and grabbing Henry’s plastic shovels and sandcastle molds and putting them in his bag. “You know, Killian used to look for hidden things with his job.” It’s only a half truth, but Henry doesn’t need to know the intricacies. “I bet he’d be really good at looking for buried treasure and shark teeth with you.”

“Why can’t you help?”

“Oh, I can, kid. I just thought maybe you’d like Killian to help you.”

He shrugs and then wraps his arms around Emma’s middle, squeezing her so tightly she’s not sure if her ribs are still in place. “I want you.”

“Of course,” she whispers, brushing her hand over Henry’s back before kissing his forehead. She doesn’t know what just came over him, but she doesn’t like it. She also has no idea how she’s supposed to be approaching this. “Henry, do you not want Killian to come with us today?”

He shakes his head into her stomach. “I don’t like it when you kiss him.”

Emma has to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.

Okay, maybe this isn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be.

Shit could still hit the fan, but that’s one crisis averted.

“If I promise not to let him kiss me, can he come with us to the beach?”

“You promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

Emma nudges Henry off of her and holds out his pinky. He wraps his own smaller one around it, and she has a vivid flashback of his tiny hand grabbing onto her pinky right after he was born. It’s a reflex. She’s fully aware of that, but it’s also what made her decide to keep him instead of put him up for adoption.

Pinky promises are a big deal.

“Pinky promise I won’t kiss Killian.” He smiles, and Emma takes the opportunity to lean forward and press her lips against Henry’s cheek once, twice, three times. She keeps kissing him as he giggles and squirms and falls back. “But I never promised not to kiss you.”

“M-mom,” he laughs, “s-stop.”

“Nope, not gonna stop.”

“You have cooties.”

“No such thing, kid,” she mumbles before finally pulling back. Henry’s cheeks are flushed red, and she lets out a contented sigh. He’s happy and healthy. That’s all that matters. “Now, come on, the beach is waiting for us.”

-/-

Emma can’t find the sunscreen.

Like, she legitimately cannot find it, and she knows that she packed it. She freaking triple-checked, had Killian check, and it’s nowhere to be found in her bag or in the bug. Now she has to spend a ridiculous amount of money on a brand she probably won’t even like.

“I’ll go, love,” Killian tells her when he finishes setting up the big umbrella they’ve got stationed in the sand. “You stay with the lad and help him build the sand fortress he’s already started on. Do we need anything else?”

“I’ll text you if I think of anything.”

He salutes and then leans down, and Emma has to swerve away at the last minute as Henry gives them some kind of side-eye that she knows he got from her.

“Something the matter, Swan?”

She tilts her head to the side and then gets up off her towel, grabbing Killian’s hand and tugging him a few feet away from Henry. He looks highly amused, eyebrows raised to his hairline, and she just knows he’s going to love this.

“You can’t kiss me today.”

His eyebrows somehow go higher. “What now?”

“Henry is upset about us kissing, and I pinky promised that we wouldn’t.”

She hears a small laugh, and he’s trying to keep a straight face. She can tell. But the corners of his lips are poking up, and she knows he can’t resist it.

“A pinky promise, huh?”

“It’s the most serious of promises.”

Killian reaches his hand forward, holding out his pinky. She takes it and wonders how every part of him is so impossibly warm. “I pinky promise that you will not kiss me today.”

“Killian.”

“What?”

“I see your loophole, and that is not going to fly.”

“I won’t kiss you, darling,” he whispers, leaning in so close that she thinks he just might be cocky enough to do it. “That’s a pinky promise.”

And then he’s pulling away and walking up toward the overpriced beach shack that must make a killing here every day for the amount of people that are always flocking to the beach. At least it’s kind of quiet today, but it’s still early enough that most people won’t be here for a few hours.

“Alright, kid,” Emma sighs, “let’s build a sandcastle.”

-/-

Emma has a thing about being in the ocean.

She knows how to swim. There was a foster parent who was a swimming coach at the local high school, and she made sure all of the kids knew how. The thing is that she also let them all watch Jaws, and while logically Emma knows the likelihood of her getting eaten by a shark is low, she’s not really fond of going into any kind of water that isn’t extremely clear.

The beaches of Storybrooke are not so clear that she can see the ground, so she’s definitely staying just at the edge where the waves crest and wash over her feet. Killian and Henry, however, are chest deep, and Emma’s not nervous watching them.

Nope.

Not at all.

“Swan,” Killian calls out, “you chase bad guys for a living. The ocean isn’t going to bring you down.”

“The bad guys stay above water.”

“Mom,” Henry whines, “come on!”

“Nope. You have to stay out there with Killian. I’m not coming in.”

Henry flops back into the water, and she just knows he’s groaning. Why is he so dramatic?

But then he’s coming back up to the surface, and she sees Killian’s lips move before he holds his hand up to cover his mouth so she can’t see what he’s saying. Henry nods along, a smile carving itself a place, and Emma leans back into the sand and sighs. That’s good. They’re getting along, and she can worry about that a little, tiny bit less.

She really, desperately wants Henry to like Killian.

Because she really, desperately likes Killian, and it’s been a long time since she felt like she could have something besides Henry be good.

Emma draws her hand through the damp sand, picking up small broken pieces of shells, and when she looks up, she sees both Henry and Killian swimming to the shore. They’re in a public place and she’s around her kid, so she tries not to be distracted by the sight of Killian coming up out of the water. She’s only a woman though, and there’s only so much she can do.

“Hey, love,” Killian says as he stands above her, holding his hand out, “can I talk to you for a second?”

“I’m listening.”

He cocks his head. “In private.”

She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

“Because I have to share a secret.”

“Okay,” Emma laughs, taking his hand and letting him pull her up. He drags her a few feet over as Henry stands right in her eye-line, and she’s not sure which of them she’s supposed to keep her eye on. “What kind of secret do you have?”

Killian’s brows waggle in that way they do, and he dips his head down before wrapping his other arm around Emma’s back and tugging her closer so that the front of her suit gets wet.

“I need you to distract Henry.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he mentioned wanting to find shark teeth, and I found a bag of them at the shack. I need to scatter them around while he’s not looking.”

A lump collects in Emma’s throat, and she tries to swallow it down. She really does, but she can’t quite get it to go away. She needs air, though, and for the stinging of tears behind her eyes to go away because she’s not going to cry. She doesn’t cry. Nope. Not at all.

(She is a liar. She cries all of the time.)

But she doesn’t want to cry about this because that would be ridiculous.

“You bought him shark teeth?”

“What? Is that not okay? I figured it’d be fun for him and I – ”

“If I hadn’t made a pinky promise, I would kiss you right now.”

Killian chuckles, his eyes crinkling, and he leans that much closer in. “Later. I have other plans for you right now.”

“Really?”

Emma quickly glances over at Henry, and he’s biting his bottom lip, obviously trying to hide a smile. He gets that from her. And that’s when she gets what’s happening. That’s also when she feels her feet lift off the ground so that she’s half hanging over Killian’s shoulder.

“Jones,” she warns as he turns and slowly starts walking toward the ocean, “I can do horrible things to you.”

“That sounds like a promise and not a threat.”

“I’m serious,” she says, her heart rate ticking up as the water keeps getting deeper. It’s to Killian’s knees now, and she can feel it ghost over the bottom of her feet.

“You and I both know that if you wanted down, you could get down.”

“You’ve got a pretty tight grip.”

“And if I didn’t want to scar your boy for life, that grip would be on your ass.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Most definitely, but this was also Henry’s idea.”

“What?” Emma laughs, suddenly not so irritated with Killian. “It was not.”

“Oh, no, it most definitely was.” Killian shifts her around until her legs are wrapping around his waist and her shoulders are hanging onto his neck. She can feel the way he breathes, the steadiness of it, and for a moment she’s distracted by that and the way the background of the ocean brings out the blue in his eyes. “Look at him and see.”

Sure enough, when she twists around to look back at the beach, Henry is standing there bouncing on his toes, watching them with rapt, excited attention.

“That little mastermind.”

“He’s certainly something else.” Killian’s hands adjust underneath her, this time landing on her ass, but she knows he’ll claim it’s only for support. She definitely doesn’t mind. “I won’t let your feet touch the ground, love, and you’ll never leave my arms. I’m simply going to make it a show for Henry.”

“For Henry,” she repeats back while taking a deep breath to try to calm her nerves.

“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “For Henry. Now, on the count of three. One, two – ”

And then Killian is very literally tossing her up before pulling her down with him. She closes her eyes out of instinct, nerves bubbling back up and making her heart race, but even under the shock of the cold salty water, she can feel Killian’s arms around her, holding her up when she should be totally submerged. He didn’t lie. Her feet never touch the ground. They stay suspended in the water before wrapping around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck. Being submerged isn’t all that bad, but it’s because she knows she doesn’t have to touch the ground and that if something is going to come and attack them, it might get Killian instead of her.

She’s a fantastic girlfriend, obviously.

When she finally adjusts to being under the water, she can feel Killian moving, and then they’re above water and she’s gasping for air and opening her eyes to see Killian still right in front of her. She’s distracted by the way that water trickles down his face and how his hair is pushed back off his forehead except for these few strands are dangling forward. His smile is bright and wide, and the feel of him pressed up against her body feels as warm as the sun shining down on her back.

And really, she nearly forgets about her pinky promise and leans forward to slide her lips over his until she hears Henry’s raucous laughter back on the shore.

“Careful, love,” Killian whispers, “wouldn’t want to spoil the kid’s mood.”

“Later,” Emma promises, echoing their words from earlier, “now let’s get me back to dry land so I can distract him and let you hide those shark teeth.”

“I’ll try to make it as natural as possible.”

“He’s six. I don’t think he’ll notice.”

“But he’s a smart lad, Swan. Wouldn’t want him to catch onto our devious plans.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

She and Killian quickly get back to the shore, and Henry is still laughing, all of his teeth showing and his eyes nearly closed from how he can’t seem to stop. Emma immediately chases after him, wrapping him in a hug and swaying him back and forth as she jokingly gets onto him for conspiring with Killian to throw her in the water. He apologizes, but Emma’s not mad, not at this.

Looking over her shoulder, she can see Killian shuffling through the tote bag, and Emma turns back to Henry with her own bright smile.

“Race you down to that pink umbrella?”

“What do I win?”

“Who says you’re going to win, kid?”

And then she’s sprinting away, and Henry is sprinting after her. She can easily beat him, even with the magical energy and speed that a six-year-old has, but since that would take the joy out of everything, she keeps managing to trip up or slow down until Henry is running past her and beating her to the pink umbrella.

When she joins him, she fakes being tired, resting her hands on her knees and exaggerating her breathing. “When did you get so fast?”

“Since I got my new shoes.”

“You’re not even wearing any shoes.”

He shrugs. “I guess they still make me fast.”

Emma laughs and leans down to kiss Henry’s cheek. “C’mon, we need to go put more sunscreen back on you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to.

Henry mumbles and grumbles the entire walk back, and Emma leads him back to their own umbrella, where she dries him off before reapplying his sunscreen. He continuously squirms, but she eventually gets him all covered to the point where she sends him off to go get Killian, who is casually sitting in the sand running his hand over the same place.

Smooth.

She watches as Killian waits for Henry to get near him. Henry plops down next to him, and they talk for a minute or two before Killian pulls something up from the sand and shows it to Henry, who is more excited than she thinks anyone should be to find a shark tooth. But this is what he wanted, even if Killian had to fudge the truth a little to get there, and Emma’s not going to question it as they keep walking around with Henry’s little plastic shovel discovering more and more teeth.

Emma grabs her phone and takes a picture of the two of them examining one they found, and she tries not to examine it too much as her heart beats a little faster and her cheeks heat. It has absolutely nothing to do with the sunshine.

This is good.

This is really damn good, and she lets herself hope that maybe this is going to be the time where it all works out.

-/-

Killian pulls into her apartment complex and puts the car in park before turning the key. He looks back before patting her leg. “He’s asleep.”

“He was out the moment we got in the car. He had a long day.”

“Well, should I let you two go? I – ”

“Do you want to come inside?” Emma interrupts. “It won’t take me long to put him to bed and then we can see what’s on Netflix.”

He nods, and smiles, almost shy. She likes when his smile is tentative like that, likes that he cares not to overstep with her. “I’d love that, Swan.”

Emma gets out of the car and opens the back door to get Henry as Killian gets all of their bags from the trunk. She’s thankful now that she made him get in the outdoor shower at the pier and change clothes after dinner, so now she doesn’t have to worry about getting him in the bath before bed. She picks him up and lets him wrap himself around her, and then they walk upstairs, careful to stay quiet so that he doesn’t wake.

She thinks she’s in the clear when she’s got him in bed, but then his eyes flutter open.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, kid.”

He nods and opens his eyes a little wider. “Mom?”

“Yeah?” she asks, smoothing his hair over his forehead.

“I like Killian.”

Emma swallows and then nods, trying to hold in her smile. “Me too.”

“You can kiss him now, but only a little.”

Emma laughs and leans down to press her lips against Henry’s forehead. “Goodnight, Henry. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed again.

She waits until she knows that he’s asleep, and then she stands from his bed and walks out of Henry’s bedroom. Killian’s sitting on the couch when she gets to the living room, their bags all put away and the mess in the kitchen cleaned, and Emma walks toward him until she’s sitting down next to him and curling into his side, resting her elbow on his shoulder as his arm wraps around her. waits

“Hey.”

“Hey, beautiful.”

Emma ducks her head and smiles before looking back up at him. “I have some good news for you.”

His brow arches. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. You’ve gotten the Henry Swan seal of approval. He said you could kiss me…but only a little.”

“Oh, well, if the lad insists, I guess I have to listen.” His mouth lingers over hers, tantalizingly close and tempting, “but only a little.”

And then he kisses her, and Emma melts into it and him and how damn good this day was.

Mostly, though, she’s happy that there’s going to be more of them.

#pinky promises #cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan

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fdd700 · 4 years

Text

Words: a lot idk (2,930) Characters: Logan, Roman, Patton, Virgil, Janus, Remus Pairings: Patton and Virgil are brothers (pat is older), the creative twins are, you guessed it, twins with Logan as their older brother, platonic and romantic dukexiety and roceit Trigger warnings: curses (minor), pain, pineapple on pizza (yes, disgusting, ik)

Virgil felt it the second his brain was connected, the dull ache in his right hip. He barely managed to let out a groan, trying to shift off his bad hip and onto his back. He let out a sharp breath as he hit his back. It was one of those days.

He hated those days.

The days when he was all but reduced to his bed before the sharp pain in his hip refused to be quelled. He knows he should get up, to try and stretch it out, but the very thought makes him nauseous.

“Kiddo?” He groans. “You okay?” Patton opens the door slowly, peeking in at the boy. “Bad day?” Virgil nodded and he’d never been so glad to have a brother like Patton. Patton, of course, was aware of these bad days. When Virgil was 10, he got diagnosed with a rare bone condition that affected his bones and left him in so much pain, to the degree that he was basically immobile for a year. He got over the condition fine with a lot of medicine but with lack of mobility for a crucial year in his growth, his muscle weakened and got inflamed a lot, meaning he was constantly on new exercise regimes to re-stretch and re-work the muscles into submission. His right hip muscles, the ones joining his two bones, was currently inflamed and was sticking his bones (Though this confused Patton, wasn’t that what connective muscles were supposed to do?)

“I really just want to sleep all day,” Virgil said.

“We both know I don’t want to give you The Speech,” Patton said, causing Virgil to groan loudly.

“Please, not the speech.” Patton chuckled.

“How about a compromise?”

“No,” Virgil whined. “Your compromises suck! it's like ‘do these tiresome, painfully stretches for like an hour and then I’ll give you an extra five minutes for a nap’. I would rather The Speech.”

“In that case-”

“No! I was joking, not The Speech,” Virgil said. ‘The Speech’ was an inside joke among the two. When their parents passed away, Virgil was barely 17, so 20-year-old Patton had to help Virgil navigate all his pain alone, with only Logan, Patton’s boyfriend, as a supporter. On one of Virgil’s bad days, he had tried to rouse Virgil to get through his exercise by saying anything and everything off the top of his head. When he was about ten minutes in, Virgil had snapped, saying; “Fine! I’ll do the exercise, just please, Pat, for the love of God, shut up!”. Since then, ‘The Speech’ had been the threat to get Virgil out of bed. Virgil sighed, bringing Patton back to the moments.

“Okay then, smarty-pants, how about I help you through your exercises and then we can chill for the day, I’ll even call off work.” Virgil looked like he battling himself. One side of him wanted to be selfish and spend the day with his brother, but he also knew that his brother didn’t get a lot of days off. Patton seemed to sense this. “Or, I can sit in my office all day and spam you with texts, getting no work done.” Virgil smiled before extending his hands. Patton helped him sit up, carefully and slowly, making sure not to bother the hip too much. He helped Virgil lie down on the floor (the bed was too soft and would mould to his back, meaning he wouldn’t be able to accurately do a lot of the exercises). He placed a pillow under his head, stuck on a playlist, and started the exercises.

“I hate this, I want to stop.” Patton continued to hold Virgil’s leg in place (his right ankle was placed on his left knee, and his legs were drawn up, forcing his right hip to rotate.)

“10 more seconds,” Patton said. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1, ″ Slowly, his leg was lowered back down. Virgil let out a large breath. “Only four more exercises to go.” Virgil shook his head, tears springing to his eyes.

“pat please, I can’t do five more.” Patton gently took his brother's face in his hands.

“You’ve done the hard ones, Virge, and you’ve done so well. C’mon, you only have to do three reps of thirty seconds for each one.�� Virgil let out a shaky breath, a few tears escaping his eyes, which were quickly wiped away by Patton’s thumbs. “Come on, we can do this.” Virgil snorted slightly.

“This isn’t a ‘we’ situation, Pat, I don’t see you crying from pain,” he joked. Patton would be offended, he’s tempted to pretend to be, but he knows Virgil hates feeling vulnerable and uses humour to cope.

“Well, I don’t see you having to threaten your baby sibling to do his exercises,” Patton said, helping Virgil through the next exercise (place his right thigh over his left, and angling his knee at ninety degrees to stretch the muscle).

“’m not a baby,” Virgil said.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over your baby speak,” Patton said, letting go of Virgil’s leg to stretch it between exercises.

“I’m a man,” Virgil said, making his voice deep to hear his brother laugh. Patton shook his head, re-positioning his leg for him.

“Sure, you are. I’m sure big bad men have to have their crusts cut off their sandwiches.”

“No one wants to eat hard bread, Patton,” Virgil said.

“Is that so, Virgil?” Virgil nodded before he flopped his leg out of his brothers’ hands.

“Why are you positioning my leg for me, I’m not paralysed.”

“I don’t trust you to not give up early,” Patton said immediately. Virgil let out a scandalised gasp.

“Oi! You’re right, but hey!” Patton laughed, picking back up his brother's leg and finished the last exercise on his back.

“Okay, turn over. You’re gonna have to hold these yourself,” Patton said.

“I thought you said you’d help me!” Virgil whined.

“I basically just did your exercises for you!”

“Basically and literally are not the same thing,” Virgil said. “You’re dating Logan, you should know this!”

“Hush you, and finish up, I’m hungry.”

“And I’m not?” Patton gave Virgil ‘The Look’. Virgil sighed. “I’m sorry for taking my frustrations out on you, that isn’t fair.”

“Thank you. And I’m sorry if I’m making you feel rushed.” Virgil sighed.

“It's fine. And hey, only two more to do.” Patton nodded. The hardest, by far, was the first one. it was an awkward position, making it hard to take deep breaths, and it hurt the most. Patton coached him through his last two before Virgil sighed, flopping down onto the ground. “That sucked.”

“Pancakes?”

“Uh, yes. With blueberries?”

“And maple syrup.” Virgil hollered before slowly standing up. He walked (hobbled) down the stairs and into the kitchen. “So, coffee?” Virgil nodded using a chair to lift himself onto the counter, not trusting his arms or hip. Patton grabbed a glass and a pain pill before handing both to his brother. “30 minutes before your meal please.” Virgil rolled his eyes but took the pill and swallowed it down. Patton began on the batter, getting all the ingredients into the bowl before handing it to his brother. “I’m gonna call work on the landline.”

“What excuse you gonna use.”

“I’m deciding between ‘I’m sick’ or ‘fuck you and your contract hours, I got more important shit to do’. Which is more convincing?” Virgil laughed.

“That’s two dollars in the swear jar.”

“How many times have I forgiven you curses?”

“Me? Curse? I’m an angel.”

“No, you’re a pain in the behind.”

“Pattooooooon!” Patton shook his head and grabbed the landline.

“Mix,” he instructed before dialling the number and leaving the room. Virgil stuck his tongue out at his brother but began mixing.

“Alexa, play Patton’s breakfast tunes at volume 4 please.”

“Playing ‘Patton’s breakfast tunes’ on Spotify now,” The machine replied. ‘Dog Days Are Over’ by Florence + the machine began to play through the kitchen speakers. Virgil had just about combined the ingredients by the time Patton came back.

“Any troubles?”

“Nope, Jessie answered the phone, and he’s chill with anything. He said he'd called Katie and she could take my shift, I just had to take her shift next Tuesday but I definitely needed to be in tomorrow - something about a big meeting, ah well.” Patton said. “This looks nearly ready. Finish that off, imma just get the pan.” Patton walked away before noticing the clock. “Later than I thought,” He mumbled. Virgil looked at the clock. It was about half one.

“How long did I sleep for?”

“I went to wake you at like half twelve, so I guess the timing does make sense.” Virgil nodded, handing the mixed batter to his brother. The two silently made breakfast - well, Patton made breakfast, humming alone to his playlist, while Virgil watched before getting up and setting the table. He yawned again, the pain in his hip moving from a stabbing pain to a dull ache. He plopped down on his chair - the only chair with a cushion for times like these. Patton smiled, handing him his plate as the two tucked into their lunch. Virgil had tried to offer to clean up, but Patton insisted he stayed sitting.

“It hurts whether I stand, lay or sit,” Virgil said. “I might as well help.”

“It's okay, I can handle this.” Virgil sighed but moved to the sitting room, setting up Disney+ on the TV. “What are we watching?” Patton asked, returning to the sitting room.

“Princess and the Frog?” Patton giggled.

“You just wanna stare at Prince Naveen,” Patton teased, handing Virgil an ice pack.

“Well, duh,” Virgil said. “Also, the songs are awesome.”

“Can’t argue there.”

-x-

The credits rolled around 4 pm and Patton was napping on Virgil’s shoulder as Virgil had switched off the current move for Black Cauldron. Patton stirred awake slowly at around 5 pm.

“Oh shoot, what time is it?” Virgil looked up at the clock beside him.

“About 5 past 5.” Patton nodded before sitting up and stretching. “What has you so tired?”

“Stayed up watching Parks and Rec,” Patton said.

“Haven’t you memorised that show by now?”

“Just about-” The doorbell rang, causing Patton to pause. Confusion took over his face before he cursed.

“Damn it, I forgot I asked Logan to come over yesterday for dinner,” Patton said and this was followed by more intense doorbell ringing. Virgil groaned.

“And I was supposed to go to the movies with the twins and Janus!” They both looked at each other, debating whether to open the door before a key turned in the lock. “Logan has a key?!”

“No!” Patton said. “I just, uh, told him where the spare key was.” Virgil shook his head but soon the house filled with Janus, Remus and Roman, screaming and Virgil for not responding to their texts and Logan asking Patton if he was ready to go to dinner. The group entered the room, noticing the two boys' guilty faces.

“Uh, Lo, about tonight-”

“No Pat, you go, I can, uh, just watch a movie and order pizza,” Virgil said.

“Virge-”

“It’s fine pat, I’ll take another pill and-”

“Oh, is your hip acting up again?” Logan asked and Virgil’s face burned. He kinda maybe hadn’t told the others about his hip issues. In his defence, he hadn’t had a bad blow out in months and it usually only lasted for two to three months maybe twice a year. He was also good and hiding bad days but today was too bad to hide.

“Your... hip?” Roman asked, looking down to the melted ice pack. Patton looked at Virgil and quickly realised he hasn’t told them.

“Yeah, he’s got a bad bruise there!” Patton said, trying to cover for him.

“Oh, okay,” Roman said. Logan shook his head.

“No, this is the muscle issues caused by his childhood condition. Why are you lying Patton?” Logan asked. Virgil wanted to bury himself further into his hoodie but he couldn’t because that would involve moving his hips.

“Logan,” Patton said softly, taking the boys arm. “let’s go to the kitchen?”

“Oh no, I said something-”

“No, sweetheart, it's okay.” Patton took the melted ice pack, gave Virgil a look that said ‘call me if you get scared’, and gently guided Logan into the kitchen. There was silence in the room.

“So,” Janus said.

“What did Logan mean?”

“Funny story actually, so uh, I had this like... bone thing when I was and it meant I was in a lot of pain so I didn’t really walk, like, at all for a year. It went away which is good, but it means that because of that, my muscles are weak and just like, throw up a fuss a lot, so it’s sort of a bitch and there’s nothing I can do a lot of the time. On bad days, I just have to stay put and not move for as long as possible.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Janus asked and Virgil couldn’t meet his eyes, he just couldn’t.

“Uh well, with Patton, it just sometimes feels like it’s all we talk about and with you guys-” he gestures to where he thinks they’re standing "- It’s different. Because you didn’t know, you weren’t always asking me and while I love it when Pat does it, it makes me feel overwhelmed and like the only thing people see is this ‘poor kid’. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s all I’ve got.”

“Well, if I’m honest, I’m not mad. I’m a little upset you didn’t trust us-”

“It’s not about trust. I trust you all with my life, but it’s... it’s different. I know you all wouldn’t see me differently but... I don’t know how to explain it, it’s like, I know, logically, it wouldn’t change anything, but there are days like these where I am not fun to be around and am in bad moods, and people take that personal. Or people think I’m lying because I could go nearly a year without my muscles getting inflamed. It’s not a constant pain, it’s more of a recurring problem with my muscles that gives me pain.” There was silence,

“I know you’re very anxious right now, but I hope you know you’re a dumbass,” Remus said. “What?! He is sometimes.”

“What Remus is trying to say-”

“I know what I said Jan,” Remus pointed out.

“Shut up, you loch ness monster,” Roman said.

“Okay, Prince Charming from Shrek,” Remus said.

“Very specific insult must’ve taken you months due to a lack of brain cells,” Roman quipped back.

“At least I haven’t got your face!”

“We’re twins-”

“I have a moustache-”

“I will kill you-”

“I’d like to see you try-”

“GUYS!” Janus said, shouting over the pair. “Ignore those two dumbasses, we know this is a scary thing so we’re - well, I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t say anything.”

“It’s like, the less I talk about it, the less I’m worried about it,” Virgil explained.

“Okay, now that I get,” Remus said.

“You’re a dunce,” Roman said, shaking his head. “But yes, hot topic, we’re not mad. Also, the movie we were going to see what awful, why did you let Janus pick?”

“Because it was my turn.”

“Well, who wants to watch a movie about cults?”

“For the love of god Remus, a ‘cult classic’ doesn’t mean an actual cult,” Janus said, holding his head in frustration.

“Sounds fake, but okay,” Remus said, trying to get a rouse out of the other two, who were staring at him dumbfounded. he winked at Virgil causing the boy to laugh.

“You are a dunce,” Virgil said.

“Noooo, don’t say that you have to love me!” Remus said, throwing himself (somewhat carefully) onto the emo.

“Get off me,” Virgil said, laughing. Patton reappeared with cups and soft drinks at that moment.

“Okay, since Logi-bear-” the twins giggled at the nickname, but were met with Logan’s glare behind Patton’s back “-was your ride, we figured we’d order pizza and watch movies here.”

“Sounds good,” they all said.

“As long as Virgil and Remus share a pizza. Virgil will want peppers and Remus will want pineapple and I was that kind of neggies vibes AWAY from me,” Roman said dramatically. Both boys giggled.

“That’s okay with us, princy.”

-x-

It was an hour later by the time their four pizzas arrived - Logan and Patton’s vegetarian, Janus and Roman with a chicken, pepperoni and mushrooms and finally with Virgil and Remus’ Hawaiian pizza with chicken and peppers. It wasn’t until they were all curled up (Logan resting his head on Patton’s shoulder, their hands intertwined, Roman with his head on Janus’ lap as the boy played with his hair and Virgil on Remus’ lap) and safe that Virgil let the relief and love that surrounded the room.

Yeah, he hated those days, but he loved his friends. He loved Patton, and Logan, because they had always felt like his parents. He loved Janus, who always knew the right thing to say, and Roman, who always knew the right thing to get Virgil out of his head, and Remus, who knew how to make him laugh so hard he forgets to breathe.

“Why have you got that dumb face?” Remus asked.

“My face isn’t dumb,” Virgil whispered back. Remus rolled his eyes. Virgil only smiled, letting the sleepiness catch up as he fell asleep.

Today wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

Uh,, so this was my rant post and also a lil’ one shot i had. It’s based on personal experience, so if it’s confusing, sorry. I spend like a week on this lol, so enjoy!

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mayve-hems · 4 years

Text

Old Me | Ashton Irwin x OC

Type: IMAGINE | ONE SHOT | MULTI CHAPTER

Summary: It all started with a lie. One that tore the two Ashtons apart from each other the day before graduation. Five years later, Ashton and Kalypso are showing up to Calum Hood’s wedding, prepared only a little for what is about to come. Ashton is determined to prove to his ex girlfriend that he never has, and never will, stop loving her.

Word Count: 14.7k

Note: I love my friend Anna because she helped me so much with this and she will forever have my heart.

Warnings: selling/use of weed, drinking, lots and lots of cussing

Normal

Flashback

Kalypso ducks her head underneath a bathtub of water. Her chocolate brown hair billows around her like she’s a sea creature or a mermaid goddess watching over Mount Olympus. If she were a few years younger, she would’ve stained the rim of the bathtub with a hair dye concoction straight from a box.

Resurfacing, she scrubs paint from her fingers, arms, legs, and face. Stuffed deep under her nail beds, she reaches for Paris Pink paint. She hisses, separating her skin and nail, but admires how nice they look. Plain, long-stained black, and mostly healthy. Making a mental note to look up nail salons for a much needed acrylic manicure, she hears a pawing at the bathroom door.

Even though she’s single and lives alone, she knows there’s no privacy in her small apartment. Magik, a black cat she found in a dumpster, is clingier than Kalypso’s little sister, Stella. She has three seconds to stand and pull a towel around her body before she sees her hallway through a newly opened door and a quiet mew enters the bathroom. Magik is too smart for her own good.

“I’m glad it’s only you,” Kalypso sighs and steps onto a blue bath mat right out of the clawfoot tub. The linoleum is cold underneath her toes from her air conditioning, so right out of the bathtub, she never stands directly on the bathroom floor without something there. Kalypso forgets her slippers once again so she maneuvers a leap from the bathmat, through the semi-opened door, and onto her pretty white carpet. “Thought I’d have to deal with Stella,” She smiles once she’s on the carpet.

“Heard that!” Stella, Kalypso’s younger sister, says over her shoulder in the kitchen. Her hands busy themselves with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway, with the kitchen having a sharp pivot to the left when you enter the living room, meaning that if she talks loud enough, Stella can hear everything Kalypso may say about her. “I was giving you time not to smell.”

“I hate you,” Kalypso sighs and turns left into her bedroom. A dream bedroom-- one with 70s rock and 80s pop -scratched- record glued to her ceiling, and blankets covering her bed. Hung LED lights and paint pretending to melt from the walls where the ceiling attaches and the aroma of vanilla incense. “Do you ever go home?”

She’s filled milk crates with vinyls that are used, right next to her bed, underneath the table holding the record player. To the left of her bed is an enormous window showing her a view of the city laid out in color and sunlight. Along her floor, she’s left clothes and other things out instead of cleaning them up.

Pulling her closet door open, two empty canvases tumble from beside her dresser. She picks them up, shoves them back into their designated place, and drops her towel to the floor. Kalypso isn’t worried about the windows on the top floor or her sister inside of her apartment.

Her fingers brush the sleeves of colorful shirts, over her dresser, and pays no attention to the art supplies she’s included inside. Above her hanging clothes are packing supplies and canvases she still needs to send out.

Kalypso owns her own ‘company’ called AKM_arts. AKM, after her initials, and arts because that’s always been her passion. Drawing, coloring, painting, crafting something into the way she’s feeling and letting the world see her so raw. She began as an instagram artist, Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, but quickly started selling custom pieces.

“You’re so pale,” Stella says, watching Kalypso pull a pair of jean shorts up her legs. Her plan for the day was to purchase more circle canvases when the shops finally opened. She needed to start more tie-dye nameplates. A man requested one for his daughter, Auzilynn, which Kalypso couldn’t seem to pronounce. “How are you Australian?”

Kalypso loves showing off her tattoos to the world; her mother's initials tattooed on the inside of her right shisn, a koi fish down her thigh, a single bee painfully placed behind her knee, a feather falling from hip to thigh, and several things in between. Her body is a canvas for anybody that deems themselves good enough.

“You’re two years younger than me, why do we look like twins?” Kalypso pulls a black shirt over her head that leaves the word ANGEL tattooed on her clavicle. “Is this cute?”

“You always looks tupid,” Stella replies, rolling her eyes. “But you’re still pale.”

“We’ve established this,”

“I got your mail for you,” Stella takes a bite from her sandwich, tearing the crust from the rest of the bread. Kalypso and Stella look a lot alike, besides their hair color. Kalypso always opted for a darker, more vibrant color like her natural dark brown. Stella, blonde, preferred pastels when they were in school.

Kalypso snatches the letter from her younger sister’s hand. Addressed for Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, apartment 607B. Stamped with a dog photo, and sealed with red wax. “It’s from Calum Hood.”

“Yeah, I got the same one,” Stella smiles at her sister. Kalypso and Calum’s friend group were close at one point, so Stella hung around as much as she could. The nuisance in the same grade as Calum and Luke that joined everything they did with Kalypso. “He’s getting married.”

“Married?”

“Yeah, his fiance is beautiful,”

Kalypso rips open the packaging. The location, the date and time, and a picture of Calum and his future-wife standing together in front of a brick wall. Stella’s right, Calum’s fiance is beautiful; curly brown hair, a hand placed over Calum’s chest, and a perfect smile. “Cool,” Kalypso tosses the invitation and the envelope in the trash. “Hope he has a good wedding.”

“You’re not going?”

“I love Calum and all, but I don’t want to see Ashton,”

“It’s been five years, Kal, get over it,” Stella brushes her blonde locks from her long face. “Please? I want to talk to Luke.”

“It’s been five years, Stel, get over it,” Kalypso bends down to look into her paint drawers unit for a certain color. Auzilynn’s name plate requires a rainbow painted into a tie-dye pattern. Kalypso isn’t sure if she has the correct shade of blue. “What would I do with my cat?” Opening the drawer dedicated the blue paints, she has more than enough.

“Alexander could watch Magik,” Stella replies, thinking about the guy just down the hall she’s trying to date. They’re in the flirting stage so far, and she hopes they’ll progress further eventually. “And I’m not trying to hook up with Hemmings. I’m trying to get my laptop back from him. It’s been way too long.”

She’s a year younger than her sister. She graduated with Luke Hemmings and Calum Hood. At the end of the day, she was a part of their friend group, including her sister Kalypso, Kalypso’s childhood best friend Michael Clifford, and Kalypso’s boyfriend, Ashton Irwin. WhenKalypso graduated from school, she was ready to take off and leave Sydney, never look back at the place that reminded her of her entire high school career. Stella was permitted to graduate halfway through her last year of school and they moved into the same apartment.

“He probably doesn’t have it anymore. It’s been five years,”

“Ashton probably doesn’t have feelings for you anymore, Ashton Kalypso. It’s been five years,”

Since they’re sisters, it didn’t take long for Stella to finally reach her limit and move into the apartment next door. They enter each other's homes whenever they want.

Kalypso rolls her eyes. “Do you ever stop?”

“Are you going to go?”

“Hell no,” Kalypso lets out a loud chuckle. “You’re hilarious,”

Returning from the store, Magik greets Kalypso at the door. Dropping four reusable bags on the floor, she greets her loud cat with pets and kisses. Canvases, paint, stickers, glitter, paintbrushes, all equaling way too much money from Kalypso’s wallet covers the entrance of her apartment. After greeting the cat, she gets started on cleaning her room and putting things away.

She throws the bags on her bed to straighten out the messy place. Clothes are folded or thrown into a laundry basket, blankets are folded or placed on her bed, canvases that turned out bad are put in a repaint pile where she turns them black and makes galaxies, and the craft massacre in her closet becomes properly organized. She puts canvases into an organizer with different sizes for different canvases and anything involving paint bottles or paint brushes directly is thrown into the messy paint drawers. She’s got way too many bottles of the same shade of blue that she needs for the rainbow tie-dye, but adds another into the drawer.

Quickly, though, she has to get to painting. Swirls of orange and red chase each other around an oval canvas. Swirling inward then out, mirroring each other. She goes in order of the rainbow, leaving one strip of purple on the narrow inside of the swirl. Tie-dye on a canvas. After it dries, she free hands the same. The person that ordered it chose basic cursive writing, which is easy with the help of muscle memory. Auzilynn, weird, but interesting.

She prints a label for the canvas and gets the packaging supplies ready so she can slip it inside and put it into the pile of canvases that need to be shipped off. She has eighteen wrapped canvases to go out of Australia, but only a few are staying inside. One, Auzilynn’s, isn’t going farther than the apartment complex a few blocks away. If Kalypso makes it in time, she can get Auzilynn’s out by 11 AM and have it delivered within a day.

Kalypso has over 100 orders to do, and only a few days until they need to be shipped off. She can’t take a few days off for a stupid wedding, it’d be worthless.

Although, she could use the break.

No! That’s stupider than anything else she’s thought of. At the same time, she could show off her glow-up and amazing life. Painting all day and night, scheduling her working hours, deciding what she gets to do. She has things to get done. Her paintbrushes need to be cleaned, canvases need to be organized and shipped, and her apartment is a disaster.

Taking a break from painting, Kalypso pours wet cat food into Magik’s bowl next to the refrigerator . The cat digs into her md-morning breakfast as if she’d never eaten before.

Across from the refrigerator, Kalypso pours a sink of hot water from the tap. Her paintbrushes are already in the sink, waiting to be cleaned. Browns, pinks, and blues explode from between the bristles. Galaxies dropped onto the stainless steel bottom like a picture.

She was thinking long and hard about going or staying. The one thing blowing her mind was Ashton Irwin and how he would have progressed. Was he still tall and handsome? Curly hair and eyes the color dewy grass? Married? Single? Still toying with the bad boy scene? She’d changed after moving away- rebellious tones and sassy remarks blossomed into doing whatever the hell she wanted to, but without so much hatred toward everyone. Weekly-dyed hair turned into natural brown on pale skin. Nobody could stay the same, so would Ashton still love her?

They broke up the day before graduating, Kalypso initiating the conversation, Ashton entirely speechless when she said the words. Kalypso had heard that he slept with a girl named Sage Miller, who was in their grade, the night before while at a party, from Luke. A cut-and-dry breakup where Kalypso blocked her ex boyfriend from her life. At graduation, Kalypso smiled, but every time she looked away from the cameras shoved in her face, broken pieces cut themselves along her throat.

She didn’t want to hear Ashton’s excuse when she broke up with him, she didn’t want to hear what he might have tried to come up with or how it wasn’t his fault. Kalypso, a girl that still knows her worth, realized that sometimes you don't need a guy to be happy.

Kalypso dials her sister for a video call. Continuous rinsing and scrubbing from her paintbrushes, laying them on the counter that wrapped from the sink to the fridge. She heard the dial tone end and her little sister picked up the call. Stella could only see a white ceiling.

“What do you want, Kal?”

“How long do you think Alex will watch Magik for?”

Ashton Irwin could still be single.

For Ashton Irwin, he's known about Calum's wedding since he proposed to the woman, but still put off packing until the day before he left. One suitcase full of men's clothes for a week's stay, and one smaller bag of his four-year-old daughter's clothes.

"She's not going to go," Luke remarks, looking at his fingernails. Painted orange with a highlighter by Ashton's daughter. He has a soft spot for his favorite four-year-old, but she likes destroying Luke's nails. "She hasn't even RSVPed yet and weddings in a week."

"You don't know that," Ashton replies. "She could just be Stella's plus-one."

"She's Kalypso, she's not the type to dwell on the past and wait around for peoples weddings,"

"You're kidding me," Ashton throws a dress at Luke. "She dragged me to thirty weddings in four years." Their flight leaves in only a few hours, and Ashton's slowly falling more and more behind on what he needs to get done. He needs to dress himself and his daughter, get a carry on bag ready for her, and manage to get to the airport. Luke's attention was diverted to grabby hands and a soft mewing, his name toward him. "She could've changed and now she's more sentimental or some shit. I did."

"Yeah, and how exactly are you going to explain Auzzie?" Luke lifts her from the floor, sitting her on his lap. They both stare at Ashton from the toddler bed. "Sorry that Sage Miller told you that I cheated on you because she kissed me at a party and you broke up with me. It didn't actually happen and I was so heartbroken I made myself believe her and hey, this kid came out of it. She died two years ago but it's okay because she was a drug addict and had nothing to do with Auzilynn. You want to get married?"

"Yeah, actually," Ashton moves across his room to get into Auzzie's dresser, searching for more than the few clothes he can find. Her toys are thrown everywhere and her clothes are torn from their drawers. He didn't have time to clean it up. "Is that so bad?" He starts pulling shirts and pants sets from the piles of clean clothes and a dress that she wore almost every day.

"What do you think, Auzzie?" Luke asks, shifting to pull her higher up. She looks just like Ashton, with a small mixture of her mother. Curly blonde hair in space buns, eyes that sparkle like glass, a crooked smile that could get her out of trouble. "Is daddy being ridiculous?"

Auzilynn nods her head. Her fingers toy with the part of her white tank top that's rolling up. "I want Doritos."

"You want Doritos?" Ashton asks. He decides he has enough outfits on his arm and in the somewhat packed back that he should start folding everything together. As long as it fits, he'll be happy.

"And fruit snacks!"

"Auzilynn Marie, you're not going to ruin your dinner," Ashton demands. "We're going to be at grandma's house in a few hours, can you wait until then?"

Auzilynn shakes her head then cups her fingers around Luke's ear. "Are we still growing fruit snacks?" She says in a hot-breathed whisper.

"Are we still growing fruit snacks?" Luke asks Ashton, wondering what he should answer. "Are they still growing?"

"Yes," Ashton groans. He ran out of fruit snacks three days beforehand and every place seemed to be out of the special type that Auzilynn liked. He told her they had to grow, and he was so happy children were susceptible. "They're still growing."

"Have you ever been to Sydney Auzzie?" Luke asks. His fingers search under her arms and around her neck for ticklish spots that cause her to giggle the most. Her body tenses up playfully. "Are you going to play with Uncle Mike tonight?"

"Yeah!" Auzilynn replies. Michael's still back in Sydney but visited often. He's probably Auzilynn's favorite.

"Back to Kal," Luke says. "How do you think it's such a good idea to talk to her."

"Because I know for sure that Stella's going." All he's wanted for the past five years is to tell Kalypso what happened that night, not some messed up version Sage had created. He plans to use Calum's wedding as a way to talk to Kalypso. A two-for-one deal; see Calum again and get back on good terms with his high school girlfriend. "If I can talk to Stella, she'll at least let Kalypso know that we conversed."

"How do you know? She could just lie and say you didn't show up,"

"They're sisters. They tell each other everything,"

Ashton has only been told stories about what happened to Kalypso after they graduated. She stopped hanging out with Calum, Luke, and occasionally messaged Michael. Stella became her best friend and her sister in one, and they moved several hours away.

Ashton had once been her drug and suffocated her when they broke up. The butterflies he had created turned into caterpillars that filled her lungs with goo and half-eaten flowers. Rumors told Ashton that she nursed herself with whiskey and sleepless nights from graduation on. He would see her driving around with Stella in the middle of the night, hoodie and messy bun-- when she looked the best.

"Stella probably won't listen to you either,"

Ashton and Sage pulled up to a stoplight in the middle of the night, returning from a party, almost a year after Ashton and Kalypso broke up. Kalypso pulled up right next to them, right before the light turned green, and rolled down her window. She screamed, "fuck you!" at the top of her lungs with a stern middle finger pointing straight at Ashton. She sped off when the light turned green. Something that irked Ashtons somewhat-of-a-girlfriend at the time, but to Ashton, that was a Kalypso thing to do.

"Can't you be positive?" Ashton folds another one of Auzilynn's dresses and sets it lightly in the suitcase. He's prepared for anything to happen, including several changes of clothes. "Can you fold the rest of those while I-" A ding runs through the room. Ashton's phone at full volume vibrates Luke's leg. He grabs it quickly to check who it is. Pleasantly surprised, he swipes the notification away. "That was fast."

"What was fast?"

"For Auzzie's birthday, I ordered this painting thing with her name on it," He clicks on the pattern he chose and flips his phone for Luke to see. "They shipped it already and I ordered it last night."

"Watch it be shitty," Luke laughs.

"I paid $50 for that thing," Ashton shakes his head. He prays that he didn't just waste his money entirely and that hopefully, the creator spelled his daughters' name right. "It better be good."

“I guess I can’t say the joke anymore,” Kalypso sasses, looking the large white house up and down. A porch that wraps all the way to the back door, into an over spacious backyard. She tilts her head to one side to comb all of her hair over her right shoulder. “Can’t really fuck your wife, Cal,” Calum glances up from his cement table and leans back in an outdoors chair. He looks like an older version of himself, rather than a completely different person. “Sorry, Mike told me to come up to the front.”

“Kalypso?” Calum asks. Brown hair thicker than life itself, large eyes that sparkle underneath any light, and a hoop through her right nostril. Somehow, she isn’t as intimidating as her high school self had been, but at the same time, she is worse.

Kalypso crosses her arms. In Calum’s high school eyes, there’s no way that the woman standing on his porch is his friend Kalypso. As an adult, he questions how she could’ve changed too much but remained the same. “Are we calling me Ashton again?”

“Huh?” Calum wonders. He is just amazed that she was coming after not returning her invite. She must be Stella’s plus one.

“You said Kalypso as if you are trying to get me to start going by Ashtonn again,”

“No!” Calum stammers. Kalypso used to be an avid member of not wanting to go to formal events. She skipped her own prom to go on a boat with Ashton, still in a prom dress. She barely showed up for her own graduation, and she’s voluntarily going to Calum’s wedding? She must really care about him. “I’m just surprised you showed up. Two days early.”

No hair dye, no lip piercing, no eyebrow slits, and she isn’t wearing a full face of makeup anymore. Gauged ears, a white shirt tied in a knot above the band of a black skater skirt, and tons of freckles.

“Was I really that bad of a friend?” Kalypso wearily asks. “If I was, then I’m sorry.”

“No,” Calum shakes his head and finally decides to stand up. He’s several inches taller than Kalypso still. “We’re going to Melbourne to see my sister next month and I was going to have a little celebration there. I didn’t expect you to come to the wedding.”

“Should I go home then?”

“No!” Calum sighs. “I’m just thinking of you from high school. You didn’t go to shit so I just thought you wouldn’t sit through a wedding.”

“I’ve changed,”

“Yes! I see that,” Calum smiles and gestures to her clothes. She wasn’t the biggest fan of skirts when they were teenagers. She’s gone through a tedious development of her character. “You look nice.”

“It’s Stella. If I had my way, I’d be wearing thigh highs,”

“There’s my Kaly!” Calum holds his arms out for an overly-zealous hug. Kalypso has never been near his height, nor all of his friends, so bear hugs are always expected. His heart beats in his chest like a rhythmic song. “What’s new? I haven’t heard from you in forever,”

"I gave birth to seven children and I'm married to John Mulaney," She looks around the porch, wanting to see what Calum's like now. There's a garden off to the side of the house, vegetables on the right side, fruit on the left.

Calum pulls a chair out for Kalypso to sit down in. He moves the documents on his table to the side so he can focus on her. "Really, huh?" They both chuckle and smile brightly. "Our group finished the kids bet."

"The kids bet?"

"Remember when we had a bet on who would have children first? We all tried to bet on you and Ashton,"

"Did I win? Who was my bid?"

"Michael's won," Calum answers. Michael guessed Ashton in general, Calum guessed Kalypso, Luke guessed Michael, and Ashton guessed Luke. "You bet me."

"Then who has the kid? Luke or Ashton?"

"Not important!" Luke says, clapping a hand on Kalypso's shoulder. She turns in the seat, excitedly. She almost tackles him to the cement out of excitement. How did she think that she couldn't go to the wedding? "Children are sticky and that's gross." She's gone five years without hanging out with her group every day of the week. Kalypso feels like a teenager again.

"Liar," Calum says. "You love Auzzie."

Kalypso laughs harder. Who names their kid Auzzie? "You and Michael babysat my brothers for years, and you enjoyed it."

"Kal, I don't need your opinion," Luke shakes his head. Michael and Luke were suckers for the Montgomery boys. A pair of twins seven years younger than Kalypso. "So, seven kids, huh?"

"Yeah," Kalypso starts to count off her fingers "Pride, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, Greed, and Wrath,"

"Some people I could get along with," Luke smiles. He too is surprised by Kalypso's personality shirt. She was a classic skater girl with weed bags and a scale in her car. How did she turn into a perfect art freak? "But for real, husband? Wife? Any babies from them?"

"I've got a house, a cat, and my little sister,"

"Really?" Luke gasps.

"Just not that social anymore," She was once a sociable person, which is concerning to the boys. Ashton has had that big of an impact on her. "So, um, Michael or you got wives, Lu?"

"We're Auzzie's favorite single uncles," Luke smiles. "I mean if you're trying to give me your phone number I wouldn't-"

"-I'll give you my phone number in a friendly way. I'm not getting into your pants, Hems," Kalypso smiles and grabs his phone out of his hand. She unlocks it with the same password he's used since he was twelve. "So do I get to meet Auzzie? I feel left out."

"She's inside with Mike and Ash. If you want to concur that battles," Calum answers. He points to the screen door next to the table. Just inside, Kalypso can see two figures standing tall, shadowed onto a nice hardwood floor.

Kalypso is the leader of the broken-up group, even after five years of going solo. So badass, so intimidating that people didn't want to mess with her. With the five-year glow-up on her shoulders, she's a soft intimidating person. She still falls for hugs and attention, wrapping her arms around Luke's middle. He's grown at least three inches in five years.

"How's your mom? I was going to see if I could visit before I go back to Melbourne," Luke asks, letting go. Kalypso's torn from smiling and feeling depressed. She lives in Melbourne too, the irony of it all.

"She died," Kalypso folds both of her ears over to show the boys white ribbons. Pretty tattoos, but hidden. "Lung cancer got her a couple of years ago." Kalypso and Luke finally sit down in chairs.

"Oh," Luke's face falls. He wasn't that close to Kalypso's family like Ashton or Michael were, but he was still welcomed at any point in time. How did he not know that Mackenzie Montgomery died? "I'm sorry . . . I had no idea."

"It was just family at the funeral. Jasper almost didn't go," Kalypso was close to her mom her entire life. Kalypso, Stella, Jasper, and James' father left and never came back after the twins were born. Growing up from a seven-year-old, Kalypso made her mom into one of her best friends. They did almost everything together.

"Your brother Jasper?"

"That's the one,"

When Ashton and Kalypso broke up, Mackenzie and Michael were Kalypso's main support. A lot of times Stella or Luke were involved, and occasionally a couple of jokes from Calum, but Mackenzie never let her daughter feel alone. A beautiful woman, taken too soon.

"Why?"

"Too hard for him to face,"

Mackenzie called Kalypso and Stella every night after they moved to Melbourne. They'd talk about everything underneath the sun, except for the disease that was ruining Mackenzie's body. She never told anybody about that.

Kalypso clears her throat. "So did you guys ever make a band?"

Luke's face lights up. "We didn't start a band, but I have an apprenticeship at a recording studio."

"Really!?" Kalypso smiles. Luke's second choice in life was to become a music producer, even if he couldn't make it into a band. "I'm so happy for you." She claps her hand into Luke's for an achievement. "What about Michael. Any big breaks?"

"He streams video games,"

"Hey, at least he gets to do something he likes,"

"Are you talking trash on me!?" Michael screams, finally walking out of the house. "Holy shit it's Kalypso." Kalypso pivots in her chair to stare down the blond man. He looks just like he did in high school. "Ashton and I had a bet that you wouldn't come because he's here."

Kalypso's head drops. "Of course. Was I really just that bad of a friend?" Inside, she feels terrible, like she messed up as a person that not even her friends expected her to show up to Calum's wedding. She didn't think she was that bad at socializing."

"No, it's just . . . he's here so we thought you wouldn't want to come."

"I'm an adult, Michael, I can get over things."

"I'm not trying to be rude, 'Lypso, I just- you still go by Kalypso, right?" Michael asks. He hasn't heard either Calum nor Luke say Kalypso, because he wasn't listening. Ashton or Kalypso, he knows her by both names. Kalypso nods her head. "Good. I don't know if I can go back to calling you Ashton."

"Somebody say my name?" A thick Australian accent asks, following behind Michael. Kalypso wants to curl up into a ball, scared of Ashton. Ashton, the boy she was and still is in love with. Ashton, the man that cheated on her two days before they graduated. In his arms, a little girl with flowy brown hair smiles. Kalypso's heart fractures. "Oh,"

Luke reaches his arms out to grab Auzilynn from Ashton. Auzilynn practically jumps from Ashton's arms, but he's too distracted staring at Kalypso. She can't bring herself to look at him. Calum and Luke share uncomfortable looks. The tension can't be cut with a knife.

"Auzzie, can you say 'hi' to Kalypso?" Luke asks, setting her on his lap. Auzilynn is a mini-me to Ashton beside her darker, grown out hair, and softer versions of his features. Kalypso has no idea who her mom may be.

Auzilynn looks toward Kalypso. A wide, toothy smile forces a small smile from Kalypso. She has to admit that the two-year-old is pretty cute. "Hi, K'lyso!"

"Kalypso, babe," Ashton corrects. "Kuh-lip-so."

"K'lyso!"

"It's fine, Ashton," Kalypso says. "Hi, uh, Auzzie." She hesitates. She looks to Calum for an answer about Auzilynn's name. "Is it short for something, or-"

"Auzilynn," Luke informs her. "Auzilynn Marie Rose Irwin."

Kalypso looks back at Ashton, questioning the child's name. Normal middle names with an off-the-wall first name. Ashton smiles a closed-mouth smile, dimples showing and obvious frustration in his face.

"Sage named her," says Ashton. Kalypso feels herself falling apart even more. Suddenly, she can see Sage in Auzilynn. The way her eyes shaped like almonds, her bottom lip tucks underneath her teeth the smallest bit when she smiles, her nose looks as if she were a Who in How The Grinch Stole Christmas. With Ashton mixed inside of her, she manages to be adorable still. "I wanted to name her Marie Adair, but Sage said we were going to move to America when Auzzie was a year old and it would tell everyone she's Australian."

"Are you guys visiting from America?" Kalypso asks. She just wants to know if Sage is in the picture, if Ashton's moved on so much. He has a kid, meaning that he's opened up his heart enough for another woman to enter his life. Knowing her luck, Kalypso wonders if there would even be a place for her anymore.

"We've never even left the country,"

"Then where's Sage?"

"Hopefully the cemetery," Ashton replies. "She died when Auzzie was only a few months old. Drug overdose. Never even met Auzzie after signing the birth certificate."

"Oh, I'm so sorry,"

Feeling guilty, Kalypso finds it sort of funny that Sage was the one Ashton cheated with but Kalypso was more successful than her. Karma is a bitch.

"Are you talking shit on me?" Fourteen-year-old Ashton Kalypso Mongtomery asks Ashton Irwin. She slides down the end of the leather couch in the school atrium to sit closer to him. He smells like cedarwood and bonfire smoke. "Afraid of a little competition?"

"What are you talking about?" Ashton Irwin asks. The Ashtons have heard of each other, but never talked directly. All they know is that they're both friends with Michael Clifford, but not the same friend group. Ashton Montgomery spends more time with her sister in the year below than with Luke Hemmings or Calum Hood. "I don't even know you."

"Bull!" Ashton Montgomery snarls. Ashton Irwin watches the ball in her lip move to the side when she gets sassy. He swears she didn't have that yesterday during English. "Stop talking shit, or we're going to have beef."

"We can't have beef if I don't know you!"

Ashton Montgomery's tongue rolls over the fresh piercing in her lip. "Watch your mouth." She disappears into a messy hallway, blue hair dye lost in a sea of students, as quickly as she'd shown up.

Ashton Irwin was held back a year, while Luke and Calum skipped one. All of them -Michael, Luke, Calum, and both Ashtons- were in the same grade. Ashton Montgomery stays strictly with her sister Stella or Michael, with the occasional visit with Luke, while Ashton Irwin is known as the new kid Luke, Calum, and Michael adopted.

"So was she hot?" Calum excitedly asks. He's not very well acquainted with Ashton Montgomery. Michael forbade him to try and date her when he first expressed feelings, and the rule still stands.

Stella and Luke are dating and have been for two years, crossing the groups over just enough for Ashton Irwin to be the only one not knowing about Ashton Montgomery. Surprisingly, though, the whole school knows of Ashton Montgomery and her intriguing reputation, so how does he not?

"Who?" Ashton Irwin questions. He lays his hand next to him on the couch, trying to draw a boundary line from Calum to him. Calum still edges closer on the blue fabric. "Can you get me some tape?" He asks Luke. Luke, sitting in the chair next to the couch, grabs a roll of duct tape out of a drawer. "Calum, if you don't back off, I'll tape you to a wall." He rips a piece of tape off loudly.

"I'm talking about Montgomery!"

"Who?"

"Ashton!"

If Calum or Luke had to pick one person to be afraid of, Ashton Montgomery would be in the top slot. She's five-foot-nothing, full of pure sass and piercings. Ashton Irwin has seen his name twin in the hallway a few times and wants to learn about the abyss of Ashton Montgomery.

"Wait, you talked to Ash today? Tap some ass?" Luke asks. He thinks maybe, just maybe, Ashton conquered his fear of ripped skinny jeans, a grey tank top, and a red flannel. Ashton groans. "What? You're the one that wants her.

"And so does Calum,"

"Yeah, but they don't share a name," Luke smirks.

Ashton rolls his eyes. "When is the guy supposed to be here? I need to smoke so I can no longer hear you."

"Ask Mike," Luke answers, shrugging. He's no help. "He's the one that knows him."

"But he's showering,"

"Looks like you'll have to wait a little while then,"

Ashton is ready to kick some thirteen-year-old ass.

Luke stands up from the porch table, bored of painting on a canvas. Capturing her attention, Kalypso looks up to make sure nothing is wrong. He's got all 10 fingers, no paint is spilled, and his section isn't complete. "Calum can paint this himself," he says, stretching backward.

Kalypso looks down at their progress. Hood is written in fancy cursive and half painted silver with black outlining. "What time is it?" She asks, throwing her paintbrush into a cup of water. The canvas Calum chose is bigger than the table and one of the most agitating, simple paintings Kalypsos ever made.

"It's quarter till nine,"

"Oh shit," Kalypso jumps up to look at her phone. "I was supposed to call Stella." She quickly dials up her sister.

Luke focuses on the painting instead of Stella Montgomery's voice. So sweet, so soft, so silky smooth and calming like lavender perfume she uses every day. Secretly, Luke missed Stella and everything about her; the way she smiles over the stupidest things, her singing voice, how she whispers his name right before falling asleep.

When Kalypso ends the call, he has to distract himself. Quickly, before he falls in love with teal blue bedroom walls and indie songs. "Are you going to Calum's bachelor party?"

"Isn't that for . . . Guys?"

"Yeah, but you're like, one of the guys so it counts."

"Is there a stripper?"

"It's just Cal, Mike, Ash, and a few other guys. If you want to strip-"

"-I'm good. No worries,"

"So do you want to go?" Luke asks again. He pounds the bristles of a cheap paint brush into the bottom of a plastic cup to remove silver paint. Pounding, pounding harder and harder until he's afraid of destroying the brush. "It's just a sit around and drink beer type of night,"

"Yeah, I guess," Kalypso starts typing. "Let me tell Stella."

The paint water is dark grey, diluted with tons and tons of silver and only a few bristles of black. How does Kalypso spend hours just painting? Luke's back feels terrible and they haven't cleaned up yet. She must be a trooper to be able to do this all day every day, he thinks.

"Ready?" Kalypso asks.

"Yeah,"

"Ashton, answer the door," Michael commands. His eyes are glued to the TV, trying to beat Luke at Mario Kart. There's no way he's going to lose.

"It's your house,"

"It's your weed,"

"He's two hours late, it's probably shit too. Answer your door,"

"Pussy," Michael murmurs. He pauses the game while Luke whines about stopping, and stands up. A door leads right into the basement of Michaels's house from the outside, which is lucky because even though Michaels's parents love her, it's easier for Ashton Montgomery to walk into the house that way.

Michaels's hand rests gracefully on the door handle. His heels rise to check the peephole to make sure it is Ashton Montgomery. Unlike all of his friends and everyone else in his grade, a ground-breaking growth spurt still hasn't happened. His right leg is a hair shorter than his left, so he's anticipating it soon.

Michael opens the door to warm air and the smell of honey and vanilla shampoo. His childhood best friend claps her right hand into his. They move into a Bro Hug and let go when she reaches for the baggie in her hoodie pocket with her left hand. The price falls from her lips.

“Got it,” Michael slips the money carefully into her hand. “Hangout for a few?”

Ashton Montgomery nods and walks into the pathway Michael has opened up. She finds a spot on the couch, opposite to the spot Ashton Irwin has taken over.

"So you're still talking shit on me, Irwin?" She asks, pulling her feet into the couch too so she can sit in the fetal position. Michael sits on the floor to play Mario Kart again but turns around to hand her a sugar cookie his mom had made. "My time is not good enough for you?" Her initials are frosted in blue on a white background.

"Wait, so you're the-"

"-plug? Yeah." She slips the corner of the square cookie into her mouth. It tastes delicious. "I heard you're trying to compete."

"I'm not trying to compete, I'm just-"

"Selling? I don't need helpers." Another piece into her mouth, but this time, it's a straight bite from the cookie. Ashton Irwin looks her over, remembering that she's Michaels friend. She's not some stranger Michael invited inside. His mom made her a cookie.

"Will you let me-" Ashton Irwin starts. Ashton Montgomery opens her mouth to interrupt, but a stern finger in her face shuts her up. "-talk. You can't take up the whole neighborhood. You're 14."

"Fifteen," She corrects. "I turned 15 three days ago."

"Yes, of course," He rolls his eyes. "15 and a drug dealer. How could I have thought any different?" Ashton Montgomery takes a larger bite of her cookie, trying to fit the rest into her mouth. A tiny corner remains. "Let me guess, your favorite alcohol is straight vodka, your favorite movie is American Pie, you overcharge on eighths, and you're the baby of your family.

Michael glances back at Ashton Montgomery to see what she has to say. She swallows hard and dusts her hands on her black sweatpants. She doesn't have to prove herself to someone that doesn't need an answer, but she's sassy.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars,"

"Cars?" Ashton Irwin repeats back.

"Mack is under-appreciated and needs more love despite his mistakes. He didn't mean to leave McQueen behind. McQueen made him drive all night and-"

It was Ashton Irwin's turn to interrupt. "-I've never even seen Cars."

Ashton Montgomery takes her finger and points at him angrily. The rest of her cookie goes into her mouth with her other hand. "You're missing out." Her hands move to push back falling hairs from the messy bun underneath her hood.

"You only like Mack because your dad used to call you Mini Mack," Michael pauses the game of Mario Kart again to turn and face the Ashtons. Luke unpauses the game and waits for Michael to realize.

"Mini Mack?"

"My moms' name is Mackenzie-"

"-and she looks just like her. Mini Mackenzie," Michael finishes.

"Can we not talk about this?" Ashton Montgomery covers her face with her hoodie sleeves, wanting to just crawl into a hole and shy away from everyone.

"Is it like a sore subject of something?"

She jumps up from the couch. Sweaty palms dry themselves on her sweatpants. "We're oversharing." She shoves her hands into her pockets. "Don't get too close to your d*g dealer." She turns to leave.

"I'll walk you out," Ashton Irwin stands up off the couch too. Lucky for him, he's hit a growth spurt. He's taller than her by almost a foot. "Did you walk here?" Ashton Irwin is barefoot and not wanting to go far in pajama pants and a shirt.

"I live next door," He watches her piercing move as she sasses him. Just the smallest movement to the side. "I can walk myself home safely."

"I'm being gentleman-ly,"

"I'm being independent,"

"If you're going to be like that, then I'm just trying to ask for your phone number, Ashton,"

"Well you suck at it," Ashton Montgomery pulls her phone from her sweatpants pocket and smiles. A wad of twenties fell back into her pocket. "Here."

"I think this is the most confusing encounter we've had in a long time," Luke says, trying to figure out how to talk about the two without having to say full names. Ashton One and Ashton Two?

"Yeah," Ashton Montgomery accepts her phone back from him. He'd texted himself and inserted his last name into his contact information on her phone. "Still 'wanna walk me home?"

"Of course," he reaches his hand for hers.

Luke pops the top off a bottle of beer and hands it to Kalypso. She takes two large gulps from it and grimaces when she remembers she hates beer. It goes down sticky and leaves an aftertaste she's not fond of.

"Oh shit," Luke says after retiring into a lawn chair with his beer. "I forgot how much you hate beer." He takes a large drink to indulge in the tension.

"Bro, I could've told you that," Ashton laughs and sits across from Kalypso. There's a bonfire raging in between them, screaming in flames and burning sticks. Kalypso wants to jump into the fire so she can burn alive. She wants to disappear from Ashton's view.

Without thinking about the gross taste, the way it feels when it hits her stomach, the way too much too quickly twists her light-weight head. She downs the rest of it and throws the bottle into a bucket of glass far away. Ashton sassily looks away as if he were cursing Kalypso out in his mind and sips. He's not much of a drinker either.

Kalypso stands up from her chair and sets off to find Calum. If she can get away from Ashton, she'll be okay.

"Where are you going?" Like asks, getting ready to stand up too. Calum's backyard is spacious, equipped with a pool, a deck with a hot tub insert, and tons of play area for his dogs. Kalypso would be the one to get lost.

"I'm giving Calum his wedding present," Kalypso replies. The chairs they're gathered in aren't far from the door, tucked into a barren area you wouldn't see without a roaring fire, so if she turns the corner the spotlight should illuminate Calum. "Leave me alone."

She walks a few steps to the corner and notices everything. She's only walked from the laundry room door to the fire pit, instead of the glass door to the wholesome part. "Aye! Cal!" Kalypso calls to gather his attention to her.

The dark-haired man looks up from his phone, obviously distracted from walking to the fire. He waves her over with a smile. "'S up?"

She pulls her right hand out to clasp into his and he feels something burn into his palm. He pulls his hand away to examine what it is. Green nuggets inside of a baggie.

"No fucking way, 'Lypso," he grins wide and starts to open the baggie.

"Should be about five grams, maybe a bit more,"

"Oh my god I've never loved you more than I do right now," he pulls her into a close hug, pressing Kalypso uncomfortably into his chest. Calum hugs, as everyone calls them. He forgets about how small people can be, and sometimes just squishes them.

"Good to know that I'm only good for weed,"

"You're good for so much more than that," Calum rocks them both back and forth in the hug, wobbling on his feet. An extreme Calum Hug. "So much more."

"Like making Ashton Irwin uncomfortable,"

Calum squeezes tighter. Kalypso can barely breathe. "That's the highlight of my year, bitch. I've never seen one man so on edge by a tiny woman."

"Calum you're killing me,"

"Oh shit," Calum finally lets go. Kalypso's insides fall from their squeezed positions back to their regular programming. "weed mans still got weed, huh?"

"What type of person would I be if I didn't?"

Calum high fives her. Right hand to left. "Why do you always dap up with your right, but you're left-handed?"

Kalypso smiles. Calum surprisingly smells beer on her. "You see," she says, running and pulling him to the fire. "Because you're right-handed, and he's right-handed, and he's right-handed, and he's right-handed." She points one by one to Michael, Luke, and Ashton. "You just learn how to."

"I guess so," Calum answers. "So since you don't drink, you want something else? I can load a bowl if you want?"

"Sure," Kalypso smiles. She hasn't smoked with close friends in years. Before walking into their graduation, Kalypso, Michael, Luke, and Calum all smoked a joint in the parking lot. None of them remember graduating. That was the last time they all hung out.

"Ashton!" Mackenzie Montgomery yells when she enters their homey kitchen from the garage. Jasper and James, Ashton's twin little brothers, enter in behind her. "What's for di-" Mackenzie stops to survey the scene. Both Ashtons dressed in matching band shirts at the dining room table, enjoying some type of dinner. Two scented candles burn in between them. "I didn't realize you were having friends over. You're supposed to tell me."

Ashton Montgomery wipes her mouth with a paper towel. "You weren't answering your phone. I thought it would be okay." She picks up a shrimp from her bowl of Alfredo and pasta to put into Jasper's mouth.

"This is Iron Man," James holds up an action figure missing both legs. Ashton Irwin nods his head and takes another bite of pasta. "Who's your favorite superhero?"

"I'm sorry, I was just really busy," Mackenzie sighs. "Sorry for my disheveled state, sweetheart, I just got off the ICU floor so I'm done for." Mackenzie sets her belongings on the counter a few feet behind the wooden table. "Boys, leave Ashton and her friend alone for once please."

The twins are identical, including their need for glasses. Jasper's wispy brown hair falls in his face and into his black frame glasses while he munches on the shrimp his sister gave him. He's the so-called 'nicer' twin.

"You look like you like Superman," James tells Ashton Irwin. Ashton smiles at the young boy.

James is the outgoing of the two. He swoops his hair to the side to free up his tiny forehead, unlike Jasper. He's more sociable, open, and willing to meet new people. The Stella of the boys. He flirts, he makes friends with, and charms most girls he runs into. Including Calum's sister.

"Where's Stel?" Mackenzie asks, moving from the counter to the sink. "Ashton Kalypso, I'm going to beat you if you don't learn to put things into the dishwasher." She picks Tupperware the shrimp Alfredo had been in and rinses it out. The dishwasher opens, and clean dishes shine. "Ashton!"

Ashton Montgomery rolls her eyes and slides her food to Jasper. James steps away from Ashton Irwin to start eating out of his sisters' bowl. Neither of them uses a fork, causing Mackenzie to groan.

"It's not my fault when Stella doesn't empty the dishwasher," Ashton Montgomery sasses. The lip piercing moves with her lip, and every time it does, Ashton Irwin just wants to stare. Sass is her biggest quality, the thing she's the best at. "Like, ever!"

"She's twelve, give her a break,"

"She's actually thirteen, Mother, but if you say so,"

"Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, can you please not be so sassy all the time? Do you know how to be normal?" Mackenzie turns from the dishwasher and remembers that there's a guest in the house. "I promise I'm not bullying my child, I'm just joking around." She takes a deep breath. "I'm Mackenzie, Ash's mom, but Michael just calls me mom like every other damn person I run into."

"If you're hungry, help yourself, blah blah blah," Ashton Montgomery slumps back in her chair. "I already gave him the rundown."

"So if you make a mess?" Mackenzie asks.

"You clean it up," Ashton Irwin answers.

"Ah! I like you already!" Mackenzie says. She pulls her black hair from her face and into a ponytail. And Ashton Irwin can see the resemblance entirely. "I'm going to go get freshened up. Don't give the boys any dessert, please. And, oh! I never got your name."

Ashton Irwin stands up to shake Mackenzie's hand. She's taller than her daughter, but Ashton Montgomery is an exact carbon copy of her mother. "I'm Ashton." He holds his hand out.

Mackenzie takes it. "Ashton?" She looks at her flushed-faced daughter slumping further into her chair. Mackenzie's eyes go wide. "Oh! I've heard about you."

"Is it bad?"

"Not my place to tell,"

Ashton looks over at Ashton at the table. "Really, huh?"

Taking in a breath full of smoke from the end of a pipe, Kalypso leans backward in the lawn chair. Calum's got those expensive lawn chairs with cushions, and a fire pit built into a table. Kalypso's body is warm from the fire and the guys surrounding it. Calum to her left, Luke to her right, Michael on the other side of Luke, Ashton between him and Calum. Laid out in front of her, past Ashton's head, she can see the city she grew up in. Lights that never seem to turn off. Cars and people that will never know it's her sitting on top of the hill, her back facing an expensive house.

She lets go of the smoke in her lungs, a cloud falling from her mouth. So thick and warm it blends in with the smoke from the fire. Luke snaps his finger in her direction, garnering her attention from the pretty lights in front of her. She blows the remains of the smoke in his face, turning toward him. He's chewing on the edge of a cinnamon-flavored graham cracker.

"Truth or dare?" he nods his head toward her. He leans his head back to take the last of his graham cracker. Luke's hands rubbed themselves together to get rid of crumbs and he finally rests them in his lap.

"I'm twenty-three, Luke, not twelve," Kalypso answers. She's not interested in the game.

"Just pick,"

"Fine," she presses the opening of her pipe back to her mouth, ready to ignite her personal flames again. The fires of her drug reflect in the eyes of Ashton's, and he dreads the flick of her thumb on a blue lighter. "Truth."

"Wimp," Luke smiles at her and her lighter ignites. Ashton can't help but watch her, ignoring Michael and Calum's conversation. "Where do you work?"

She breathes in deeply and pulls away from the glass. "I paint custom canvases for people." She lets go of the smoke, turning her head to her right shoulder so she doesn't hit Luke in the face with it. "Follow me on Instagram, a-k-m-underscore-arts."

"Wait," Ashton pauses. He waves his hand in the air to cut her off. "I think I just ordered a canvas from you for Auzzie. Auzilynn, A-u-z-i-l-y-n-n,"

Of course, Kalypso thinks. "Yeah, I think you did," She doesn't want to talk to Ashton. She wants to forget he exists. Kalypso wants the broken gems inside of her to fuse back together, but she can't do that. She doesn't know why. "Uh . . . Mike, truth or dare?"

Michael glances at Kalypso. "Dare?"

Kalypso blinks quickly, forgetting the feeling of a spinning world from her low tolerance. Her eyes close for a few seconds when she balances herself and sets the pipe down on the table surrounding the fire. "Go jump in the pool fully clothed."

"Now you're the one acting twelve," Michael laughs. "But bet. It's hot out here anyway."

“Look at the moon," Ashton points a steady finger to the glowing globe in the sky, lighting their way down the bumpy sidewalks. Eventually, Ashton hopes he'll have a car, and when he and Kalypso hang out, they won't have to skate back to either house. "It's so pretty,"

"Not prettier than you," Kalypso blows a kiss toward him, just a few feet ahead. Her skateboard is smaller than his, but the bottom is scratched up and doesn't have as much paint as it used to. Emblems from Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Sublime, AC/DC, and Nirvana's smiley face were once painted over a pink sunset. Scratches from skatepark equipment are starting to fade the emblems.

Ashton catches the kiss in a hand and releases it to the sky until a horrific scream brings him back. Lying on the cement a few feet away from a crack in the cement, Kalypso's lying on the ground. Ashton stop's his skateboard and discards it in the grass. The moon illuminates her clear left cheek.

"Are you okay?" He slides to the ground next to her and grabs her left arm to shift her to her right side. Somewhat of a rash on her right cheek, her wrist cocked oddly, and she just giggles. "'Lypso, are you okay?"

She continues giggling, her chest bubbling from the ground and bouncing her curled hair. "It hurts like a bitch," Kalypso giggles when she's hurt, Ashton realizes. "You should kiss it and make it feel better." An odd coping mechanism, but at least she's not crying.

"Kiss what?"

"My broken fucking hand,"

Ashton presses his lips to her hand. Soft buttons of pink kiss lightly. "Better?"

"Oh second thought, I think I busted my lip open too," Kalypso smiles. Burning, stinging is flowing through her wrist and she winces when she tries to move her fingers. "It needs a kiss." It would be impossible to explain to Mackenzie, to tell her that Kalypso wrecked her skateboard and still manage to ride when she heals. Mackenzie will want to ban skateboards from Kalypso, Stella, and the boys.

Ashton doesn't think, he just does what she asked. As humans ruin everything they touch, Ashton and Kalypso ruin each other in ways that make growth. Like destroying the ground to plant a blooming tree or trimming long hair so it will grow longer and healthier. Ashton's lips ruin watermelon lip balm on Kalypso's, and Kalypso ruins Ashton's wonder of what it tasted like.

A fire ignited between the two, leaving them both breathless after a two-second kiss. Flowers grew from both of them, sprouting beautiful things. They can't believe themselves.

Ashton, the brunette boy that was a year older than everyone else in his grade, kissed the girl he thinks of first every morning until unconsciousness brings him to dreams of marriage and spending the rest of his life with her. The girl that smiles and makes him photograph the way butterflies land and stick to her hair, the way Ashton looks happiest on rainy days with clouds looming in the sky, and everything she never wants to forget.

"I win," Kalypso smiles, even though her entire body is shaking. Ashton sits up and wraps arms underneath her back and knees. Kalypso's pulled from the ground and she kicks until her feet are planted. "I bet Luke you'd do it tonight."

"Do what tonight?"

"Kiss me."

"So you're telling me you broke your hand intentionally,"

Kalypso sighs. "Nope," she looks at her already-swollen hand. It's terrifying. "Go hard or go home, right?"

"Truth or dare?" Michael laughs, his shirt gone, and hair wild. "Ashton." he sips a beer, feeling some type of buzz plaguing his mind.

"Truth," Ashton answers. He's holding his beer more than the rest of them. With Kalypso present, he physically cannot become intoxicated. He doesn't know how, but he knows that no matter what she's to be protected. After years of going out drinking with her in high school, he made sure she was safe before he was.

"C'mon man, all you pick is truth,"

"I don't want to go into the pool,"

Michael scoffs. "Fine. What happened two days before graduation, Irwin?"

Kalypso looks up from the ground. She can't breathe. The flowers inside of her started to choke her airways until she knew that Ashton was watching her. Act normal. Act normal. She pretends to be unbothered. Everyone can see through it.

"What happened?" She whispers and takes Luke's glass of whiskey. She drinks all of it at once and hands the ice back to his protesting whines. "I'd like to hear this."

"I didn't do anything, actually,"

"Really, because-"

"-I went to a party," Ashton leans forward to set his beer down. Elbows on knees, hands clasped together. "And I drank something that Sage had given me. I woke up three hours later to Luke screaming at me. Sage told him I cheated on you."

The first time he'd been able to say it directly, out loud, in the presence of anybody else. The first time Kalypso felt she could talk about it too.

"Really? I heard-"

"-Where's your fucking evidence, Ashton?"

Kalypso's eyes went wide. She hadn't been called that name in forever. Her family, her friends, everyone around her adjusted to her new name. She stands up from her chair. She no longer cares what happens, she no longer cares if she's ever around him again. "Where's your evidence that you didn't, Ashton?" The ache in her heart tells her that she still loves him as she did five years ago.

"Video evidence dating that the entire time I was asleep in my bedroom, she was at the diner on George Street telling everyone she was going to prank us with that,"

"Bullshit,"

"Why would I lie? Five years, five fucking years, 'Lypso! Why would I lie about that?"

Kalypso blinks hard, frustrated, and stares at Calum. "I'm going back to my hotel. I'll see you in the morning." She looks back at Ashton. "You can go fuck yourself."

"Eight, nine, ten, eleven-" A road of thunder interrupts Kalypso. Lightening lights the setting sky. "It's eleven miles away."

"Really? The radar says it's already storming," Ashton replies, smiling. Kalypso pushes his phone from his hands. Being overdramatic, Ashton falls from his side into a soft thump on his back. "Look, you're so rough you knocked me over!"

"Liar!" Kalypso giggles. Her right hand, jailed in a blue cast, clenches her blanket when she lightly pressed into his chest with her left. "I think you're perfectly fine."

After breaking her wrist, Mackenzie put her daughter on house arrest. Ashton, Michael, and any other friends can visit, but Kalypso can't go see them until she's healed.

"Dinner!" Mackenzie yells from the bottom of their carpeted stairwell. Kalypso stands up from the comfy bed and grabs her phone off the charger.

When Kalypso was old enough to decorate her own bedroom, she took advantage of the design. She was given two closets, one with sliding doors, and one that has a single door leading to a room of shelves. Years prior her uncle helped her remove the sliding doors and shove her full-sized mattress into the space. Pillows along the back of the closet, where the widest part of her bed is. She has a perfect view of her TV and the windows.

"Ashton, dinner," Kalypso laughs. Her hand ruffles his messy curls and giggles at his bandana choice. The same color as her hair- cherry red. "C'mon, I'm hungry!"

"You're going to have to force me, Hungry, I'm comfy,"

"Oh yeah?" Off of her nightstand, she grabs a disposable camera and snaps a photo of Ashton, his stubborn self, and all of his glory. "One day, we're going to be twenty-something, and you're going to look at these photos and say 'thank goodness I'm not that stubborn anymore'."

"And you're going to wonder why you have always been dramatic and use disposable cameras."

"It's easier to print and hang up,"

"I think you're a little bit obsessed with my face," Ashton points to the wall surrounding the bed. Photos of Ashton and Kalypso, some with Michael and the guys, or Stella and Kalypso the few times they've gotten along. She changes the switch of her fairy lights to illuminate the area. She never needed an overhead light with floor-to-ceiling windows scattered around.

"I am not!" Kalypso smiles. Her hair is messy, wavy, and poofy in different directions. She tucks as much as she can behind her ear. Ashton grabs the camera to snap a photo of her reaching for him. "Please! I'm hungry!"

"What'd your mom make for dinner?"

"Grilled salmon,"

"You hate fish,"

"But you don't!" She tugs harder on his hand. "I'm hungry!"

"What are you going to eat?"

"Grandma is making Jasper and I chicken strips," Calypso falls backward onto her hardwood floor when Ashton stands up. He catches her when her butt grazes the ground and pulls her into him. "C'mon!"

"So you get chicken strips and I get fish?"

"Yes!" Kalypso continues pulling Ashton out of her room, down the stairs. Stella and the boys have already made it to the bottom. "It's your favorite. Last night we had my favorite, and tomorrow we get James' favorite."

"You just had to include me, huh?" Ashton asks while he descends from the top floor. Kalypso's two stairs ahead of him.

She shakes her head. "Actually, I requested shrimp alfredo for dinner but no. Mom wanted me to have something you like," She lies.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh!" They end up at the bottom of the stairs and round the left corner to the kitchen. "You're here every day. Might as well include you."

James groans, looking at his sisters' boyfriend. "Do you ever go home?" With Ashton in the picture, James didn't get to spend as much time with Kalypso.

"James Samuel!" Mackenzie calls. "That's not very nice."

Pre-Ashton, James, and Jasper could fall asleep in Calypso's bed with her. When Ashton and Kalypso started dating, Ashton started sticking around until she falls asleep and goes home when he knows she is officially out for the night. The times Ashton stays with the guys, he calls her to talk when she feels drowsy. It's their routine.

Mackenzie sets a tray of chicken strips on the table for the non-fish-liking children. "Ash, can you- My Ashton," She smiles, uncomfortable. "Ashton Kalypso, can you get the tea from the outside fridge?"

"I vow we call her 'Lypso!" Jasper says, already stealing chicken strips. His dark hair falls over his auburn eyes.

"No!" James answers. "Ashton One and Ashton Two."

"Or," Kalypso holds a finger in the air. "Ditch Ashton entirely and become Fletcher and Kalypso." Ashton gives her a side-eye glare. "What?"

"I'm not going by Fletcher,"

"Noob,"

"Kalypso, tea!" Mackenzie demands and points to the garage door. Kalypso disappears inside.

"We should just sell Ashton Kalypso on eBay!"

"James, we aren't selling your sister," Mackenzie shakes her head. She sits on the first chair to the right, and across from Jasper. Ashton and Kalypso always sit next to each other on the other side of the boys.

"But she's a girl," He grimaces. "And she talks a lot now."

"I would rather her talk a lot than be silent again," Mackenzie says. "Ashton, you're a real blessing to her. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?"

"Until last year she never really talked to anyone but Michael and Stella," Mackenzie starts. Ashton couldn't believe that at one point, Kalypso was so shy she couldn't talk. "I swear she talked for an hour straight the day she met you."

"Mom," Kalypso groans, closing the garage door behind her. A pitcher of sun tea half mixed with lemonade in her hands. The only thing the boys will drink besides soda. "There are some things you don't have to share."

Three shots down, as many as it takes to go. Kalypso, even hating alcohol, wants to forget his name. She wants to forget that he exists in the real world and that he's so close, but so far away. All she can do is scream his name and wonder why she wasn't good enough. They were too young to know about love, and if they weren't they were too dumb to think that it could last forever.

Kalypso forgot the massive bar and hangout area Michael had in his basement. When the five, and sometimes Stella, became known and interested in alcohol, Michael's was the house to get it from. Easy access, nobody realized anything was touched. Either there, or stealing food from Kalypso's refrigerator, you could find any of them.

Luke sets down a box in front of her at the bar. "Ashton says this is for you." He slides it closer to her. Her palm stops it.

She doesn't want anything to do with Ashton. His stupid box, his stupid face, his stupid mistakes. She was rejecting his presence and everything that comes with it. "Shove it up his ass" She put another shot into her mouth and swallowed. Four in. So many more to go.

"Kal, can you please just take it?"

She slams her glass down onto the marble counter. "What's in it?" If it's stupid, there was no point in opening it.

"No idea,"

Kalypso tucks her pink thumbnail at the paper tape. She is just a slice, just barely a poke, away from whatever Ashton is up to.

"Probably just giving things back,"

"Five years later?"

"You never know." Luke grabs a knife from the other side of the bar and slices the top open quickly. Flaps fly open, revealing several things inside. Michael adjusts off a barstool to get a closer look.

Papers, indented and worn by ballpoint pens of all colors. Stuffed animals, jewelry, familiar things Ashton has given to Kalypso and she returned. Off the top, Luke lays a stuffed stingray on the bar. Kalypso loved that stingray, named it Dionysius, and kept it amongst her pillows for years.

A necklace with Ashton engraved in a silver plate, two stuffed bears his mom had made, and rocks they'd painted together. Movie ticket stubs from every date, and the millions of photos they'd taken together. She glued them to the inside when she gave him the brown box. She gave him the box that way and he never changed it. Maybe they weren't too naive to know what love is.

"Look," Michael says and grabs a photo from the box, pulling it off easily. "You were so small." He gives it to Kalypso to see.

Wide-eyed, a mouth full of braces, and wearing Ashton's clothes, Kalypso was sitting in Ashton's lap. Her hand blocking most of her face, leaving only Ashton and a thirteen-year-old Luke to be seen. Her hand was in a cast-- the photo was from when they first started dating.

Kalypso grabs another photo from the box. Sitting in the front, she was the smallest and not looking in the mirror like everyone else was. Kalypso's bedroom-- her mirror covered in plastic flowers, the boys and Stella posing with her. Calum to her left, Stella to her right, Ashton behind her, Luke behind Calum, Michael behind Stella. Stella had taken the photo. Kalypso was at least seventeen.

On the bottom of the box was a photo printed on regular printer paper of the fire she used to engulf his belongings. A jersey she had with IRWIN on the back for all of his football games, his clothes, and the rest of their photos.

"He kept this for five years?" She shakes her head. "Now, who can't get over who?"

Luke reads a paper in the box. "You should look at this." A giant blue #1 shone at the top of it.

' 'Lypso, I tried to talk to you and your mom yesterday to explain what happened and the whole story. You wouldn't give me the time of day. I wouldn't either, to be honest. '

She reads it aloud. The letter continues, explaining the box. Everything inside was the same and he didn't want it. Another paper, labeled #2, had a list.

1.I've written coordinates down. These are all the places where I knew I couldn't live without you. Something significant happened at each one and I remember them all perfectly. Plug it into google and remember, for me.

2. You can go there. If you want to pretend you're in a fanfiction of a young adult movie where we'll end up together. If you do, I have something there to remind you of it all.

3. You don't have to forgive me or take me back. I just want you to know how much I still love you.

4. They're not in order.

Coordinates:

"Either of you have Google Earth?" Kalypso asks. Luke pulls his phone out. She enters the first set and waits. "Literally we're right here." Kalypso looks for answers in the men.

"How about you go look in the downstairs living room," Luke hints. "That's where-"

"-That's where he asked for my number,"

"And you still have an interrupting problem."

Kalypso rolls her eyes, but can't seem to get downstairs fast enough. A photo is waiting for her where Ashton sat that night. She grabs the paper; it has something else to say.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars." "Cars?" "Mack is under-appreciated and deserves more love despite his mistakes,"

I swear that was the most eye-opening and Kalypso thing I'd heard, Mini Mack

"I remember that night," Kalypso can see it.

"15 and a drug dealer. How could I have thought any different?" Ashton Montgomery takes a larger bite of her cookie, trying to fit the rest into her mouth. A tiny corner remains. "Let me guess, your favorite alcohol is straight vodka, your favorite movie is American Pie, you overcharge on eighths, and you're the baby of your family."

"First night Ashton had bought from me personally," Kalypso felt the warmth through her entire body. Ashton remembered.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars,"

"Cars?" Ashton Irwin repeats back.

"Mack is under-appreciated and needs more love despite his mistakes. He didn't mean to leave McQueen behind. McQueen made him drive all night and-"

It was Ashton Irwin's turn to interrupt. "-I've never even seen Cars."

He remembered one of the most insignificant things about her.

"You only like Mack because your dad used to call you Mini Mack," Michael pauses the game of Mario Kart again to turn and face the Ashtons. Luke unpauses the game and waits for Michael to realize.

"Mini Mack?"

"My moms' name is Mackenzie-"

"-and she looks just like her. Mini Mackenzie," Michael finishes.

The next coordinate was where she wrecked her skateboard. Taped to a broken stick is a photo of Kalypso laying on Ashton's bed with him. It was a few days after when everyone finally caught up with decorating her cast, and Mackenzie didn't realize Kalypso had left the house. She wore a white tank top, one strap falling off her arm. Right hand bandaged up, lays in Ashton's next to her. Kalypso was surprised by the camera Ashton's sister randomly ran up to them with. She caught a photo while standing on top of Ashton's bed.

"You should kiss it and make it feel better."

She still has the scar from the wreck on her wrist. A reminder of that night for the rest of her life. The feeling of Ashton's lips on hers. Warm cement painful under her palms.

"Kiss what?"

"My broken fucking hand,"

Ashton presses his lips to her hand. Soft buttons of pink kiss lightly. "Better?"

"Oh second thought, I think I busted my lip open too," Kalypso smiles. Burning, stinging is flowing through her wrist and she winces when she tries to move her fingers. "It needs a kiss."

He remembered eating dinner at Kalypso's house every night for eight weeks straight. The day her cast was removed, they went on their first date.

Makenzie made them do an uncomfortable photoshoot before their showing of Cars. A dress, a bowtie that clipped on, and uncomfortable shoes. Teaching Kalypso how to drive, laughing when she screamed while merging on the freeway. Video games, arcades, records. Their one-year dinner catered by Michael and Calum, listening to 2000s rap the whole time. Kalypso surprised Ashton with the jersey. One time Kalypso fell asleep on Ashton at Michael's house. Kalypso showing off her license when she got the guts to get it. A bonfire at the beach for Ashton's birthday, even though they couldn't swim.

They stargazed every night of the summer until the sun rose or sleep overcame them. Where they met for a concert, where Ashton parked his car at a drive-in date, Ashton getting a bunch of a facemask mixture stuck in his curls.

Their last year together. Driving around for hours on end, listening to AC/DC, and laughing. They always bought slushies beforehand. An entire day on a boat in the lake. Bikinis, tanning lotion, and seven of Kalypso's cousins. All he could see was her. Kalypso got her first tattoo at 18-- a dinosaur encased in a glass jar. A 50s themed Disney Movie marathon Luke, Calum, and Stella helped Ashton plan. The day before they broke up.

The day before they broke up.

'I'll always love you. -Ashton'

She drops the last thing into the box. Does Ashton still love her? Impossible to think about. He has a daughter, probably a girlfriend, probably an entire life she would be imploding on. She puts the box in front of her waist. Kalypso feels bare and like nothing before. "Can you take me to the hotel?" Ashton knew Kalypso better than he knew himself.

Luke nods his head and motions for her to walk with him to Michael's car. On the back window, there's a penis drawn in the dirt.

It's easier for Kalypso to be in the dark, wiping falling tears like nothing. Headlights illuminating the road, not her. Luke pats her hand on the armrest. She was once hard, a badass around everyone but Ashton, and now the only scary part about her is her quick wit.

Stella set up the hotel room. Toiletries in the bathroom, pajamas on the bed. The sisters decided to share a suitcase for their two-day trip. They'll fly back tomorrow night-- they'll go back to their apartments after picking Magik up from Jaspers, and Kalypso will spend all night trying to catch up on painting orders.

"What's that?" Stella asks, folding a shirt over her hands. She's getting ready for a shower. Instead of replying, Kalypso sets the box on Stella's bed. Her legs buckle underneath and her sister has to catch her before she shatters into the carpet.

Muttered words. Teas. Stella opens the overly stuffed box that they couldn't close. She is amazed, reading everything Ashton had to say about Kalypso. The photographs, the concert tickets to Blink-182 and some country singers. A stapled-together packet of Kalypso's favorite of everything. Songs, movies, food, drinks, even her favorite names. The joke she always made about naming their kids Asher and Ashley. Her favorite colors and the book she constantly read over and over again and became surprised at the outcome every time.

Ashton knew everything about her when they dated. Things she never realized herself. She knew him as he knew her. The day before graduation, though, he had made his decision.

Kalypso applied a white shimmer to her tear ducts. Dabbing opposite of a red smokey eye. Practicing her graduation makeup one last time and trying to get Ashton's opinion about it.

"How many of my bandanas are you going to steal?" Ashton asks, throwing another bandana toward his girlfriend. She wipes the glitter off her middle finger onto her blue jeans.

"We both can wear one," She folds the bandana up into a strap and hands it back to Ashton. "Put it on. You'd look cute."

"Cute? I'm supposed to be intimidating." Ashton giggles, but reluctantly folds the strip over his forehead and ties it at the base of his neck. "Now we look alike."

"Is that a bad thing?" Kalypso asks.

"Nope," Ashton stands up from Kalypso's bed to stand behind her. All he can think about is how much he loves her, how beautiful she always has been. Freshly dyed, cherry red hair chopped at her shoulders, curly from braids. "Are we still going to the beach after graduation?" She had tied a bandana in her hair to hold her hair back too. Black and white, like Ashton's.

"Yeah, but after the graduation party,"

Ashton grimaces. He has a surprise for her at the beach. A stupid party will get in the way.

"C'mon, Ash, your mom is throwing it for all of us,"

"She's such a cock block,"

"Ashton!"

"I'm kidding," Ashton giggles again.

"Now, what do you think of this look?"

"I think that you look beautiful no matter what," Ashton smiles. Her lipstick matches her hair and looks like it would stain his lips. "With or without makeup."

Calypso sighs. "You always say that," She grabs her phone from the floor. A text to Stella asking where she is.

"And?"

"You have to say that,"

If Ashton never said it, he'd be a liar. She is his princess, more goddess-like than anyone had ever seen. "Do you want me to tell you if you look ugly."

"Yes,"

"If I only ever told you when you looked ugly, I'd be mute,"

Kalypso rolls her eyes. "Of course you would say that."

Ashton's head reaches over her right shoulder to press a kiss on her cheek. "You look like the moon and every star in the galaxy."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I can spend three summers straight watching you every time you're around and still get excited for the next one,"

Kalypso blushes. "You're so cheesy."

"I know," A ding from his phone distracts Ashton from his girlfriend. "Luke wants to know if he can come back with Stella."

"Sure,"

Ashton types quickly. The text sends. Luke's on his way with Stella. "Are you excited to be done with school?"

"Yes," Kalypso smiles. Braces removed, teeth are pearly white and straight. "We can hang out so much more than before. We don't have to worry about curfews or my brothers."

"Still dreaming about an apartment with a clawfoot bathtub and large windows everywhere?"

"With high ceilings and at least one cat? Of course,"

"We'll move to Melbourn and live happily ever after,"

"Melbourn? You've never said anything about Melbourn before?"

"I may be trying to pull a few strings,"

"Ash!" Kalypso gasps.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to go or-"

"-Stella entering the room! Please redress!" Stella announces, pushing Kalypso's bedroom door open. "What's the tea?"

"We'll talk about this later, okay?" Kalypso assures.

"Of course," Ashton hopes she's okay with it.

"He tried so hard on all of this, oh my, . . . wow," Stella's still pulling things from the box, looking over everything included. Her finger catches on a CD. "What's on this?" Kalypso has no clue but grabs her laptop out of her suitcase.

Her finger shakily presses play and a screen of dark lighting and an ugly girl sitting in a diner booth shows up. It's Sage.

Long, black hair pulled into an overly large messy bun that outweighed her entire head. A square-shaped face and a pig nose permanently turned upward.

Sage shoves a french fry into her mouth while smiling. The person behind the camera asks what Sage was so happy about. She shoves another fry into her mouth. "I came up with a genius idea. Prank the high school sweethearts. There's no way that shit can last forever."

"How'd you do it?" A boy sitting next to her asks.

"I put Nyquil in Ashton's drinks. Knocked him out cold. I'll tell him that he got super drunk and we had sex. The worst thing that'll happen is they'll break up." Sage giggles, covering her mouth. Her fingers are manicured with long acrylics and red nail polish. "I have to show this to like Stella or something so Kalypso isn't that depressed."

"Don't you want them to break up so you can date Ashton though?"

"Ew!" Sage shoves her friend next to her. "I could never. Not into weirdos."

Stella pulls her sister into her arms. The biggest hug she could offer to her best friend. Kalypso partly crawls into her lap, feeling like shit.

"I'm an idiot,"

"You didn't know,"

"Did you ever see this?"

"Not once. I haven't even talked to her since I was like sixteen,"

"I should've believed him." He probably has a wife, another kid on the way, a whole life with no room for Kalypso.

Stella grabs the box and turns it upside down. "He kept all of this for so long." All of the contents spill out onto the floor. "What's that?" She points to a tiny velvet box on the carpet. It only reminds Kalypso of one thing.

"No way," Stella passes the box to Kalypso. "Is this-" She cracks the box open and a gold ring with two silver diamonds on top stares at her. "Oh my God."

Stella picks up the ring. "I . . . I remember this. You and I have the same sized fingers so he made me go with him while you were at work one day,"

"You knew?" Tingles flow through Kalypso's body.

"He was going to propose on the beach. After you graduated. He was trying so hard to get his mom to cancel the party so you'd make it for the sunset."

Kalypso cries even harder, thinking about her past.

Kalypso ducks her head underneath the water of her hotel bathtub. Chocolate brown locks billow around her like she's some magical creature or a mermaid. She remembers when she was younger and would've stained the bathtub with different hair dye concoctions. The happiest moments in her life included colored hair -- and Ashton. Chocolate brown, like a symbolistic feature telling her she's not living to her fullest potential.

Her Last dye was that cherry red before graduation. Ashton brought out everything she loved about herself. Quickly, she resurfaced, gasping for breath. She couldn't live without Ashton. Stella threw her clean clothes and watched her run to the passenger door of Michael's car. They sped off, driving way faster than they should have.

Michael stopped in front of Ashton's moms' house, watching Kalypso knock on Ashton's door. Her hair is still dripping wet and staining the back of her shirt. Michael's anticipating someone answering the door. It's just Ashton, Auzilynn, and his mom. Someone will answer that knows Kalypso.

Ashton's the one to open the door. He can't even speak before her.

"You say you fell in love with me in the basement and you remembered that I'm Mini Mack. You stayed with me for eight weeks from the time school got out until I fell asleep when I broke my hand. You set up dates for me and you with Michael, Luke, Calum, or Stella creating stupid pasta dishes with mystery meat because we never had money because we were teenagers. You taught me how to drive. You put up with my constant pictures and annoying comments.

You spent summers with me on a trampoline looking at the sky because I told you that seeing the stars made me happy. You gave me one of your football jerseys when you would wear the other so we would match. You called me beautiful all the time, every single day, and never once let me forget it. You made me feel emotions I didn't know I had. I drowned in you, but yet," Kalypso finally looks up from the ground to lock eyes with Ashton. Her blue orbs lock with brown ones. "I believed someone with a fake tan and an ugly nose over you."

"It was because everyone else did," Ashton says. He's stone-faced, afraid that if he shows emotion he'll crumble. She's his drug, even after five years of straight hatred. "Luke, Michael, Calum, Stella," He looks away. Ashton can't stand to look at her anymore without turning into the high school boy in love with her. He spent five angry years going to sleep without knowing she was safe and secure with a pillow, a blanket, and that stupid stingray. "They all believed her because I couldn't remember."

"Yeah, but I should've trusted you," Kalypso starts tearing up. Her voice can paint pictures of nature scenes you only see in dreams, but her tears could destroy villages and towns. Ashton holds a hand out to her, wanting to bring her inside. "I was so stupid."

"You didn't know," Kalypso takes his hand for the warmth of a home again. One she spent a lot of time during her adolescence. The carpet is still warm and white, the couch with a strain on the armrest from when Ashton spilled something on it. His bedroom upstairs, where they made out one too many times. Her home away from home.

"You wanted to go to the beach," Kalypso whispers. "You . . . you wanted to go to the beach, and right before, I ruined it. I ruined it all. And now you have Auzzie and a maybe wife and I'm never going to be worth anything in your life but just right now I want you to consider, do you still love me? Right here, right now, that's all I need to know and I'll leave you alone."

Ashton pulls Kalypso close to his body for a hug. He smells the same, feels the same, and radiates the same energy he had for several years. "Ashton Kalypso," Ashton softly smiles, trying to lighten the mood. "You overthink way too much."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I could never stop loving you,"

33 notes · View notes

ancientwastedlores · 4 years

Text

The Support System (Ch: 4)

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: Find this chapter on AO3 here. Links to the first three chapters are below. Let me know if you want to be tagged when I post new chapters, and also my ask is open for fic requests :) I might take some time to get to them, but I WILL get to them!

AO3: The Support System Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Chapter: 4/? Warnings: N/A Audience: general.

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CHAPTER 4:

The next morning, you wake up with Loki’s arm and leg draped over you. You get out from under it and peer at the TV. It’s paused on the fourth episode. Maybe Loki saw you had fallen asleep, or maybe it was the other way around... you don’t remember. You leave him to sleep and go to brush your teeth, amazed at how completely normal you’re treating this to be.

For whatever reason, you’ve seen Tony Stark get drunk, but never seen him hungover. The man is a miracle worker. Bruce is holding his head in his hand, and no one else wants to talk, but Tony is practically bouncing off the walls. He must have 15 cups of coffee in him, you think to yourself.

You sit down at the table with the Avengers, who all lift their heads to look at you.

‘What?’ you ask. ‘It’s your turn to make the breakfast, didn’t you remember?’ Tony asked.

You shoot up, having completely forgotten that the cook doesn’t come in on weekends and the responsibility for breakfast and dinner falls on one Avenger a week.

‘Sorry sorry sorry, I’ll get right to it, give me a few minutes’. ‘No worries, we’re still working on our coffees. We haven’t been up long’ Nat reassures you.

You smile at her and then run frantically run get your ingredients together.

‘Good morning’ Thor walks in, all smiles. Everyone else groans at the noise. Another man you’ve never seen hungover, but it would make sense for a god, wouldn’t it?

Bruce turns to look at Thor, then narrows his eyes. ‘Did I… Did I cry last night?’

‘Yeah, you cried because that child over there…’ Tony points at you, ‘lifted Thor’s hammer’ ‘I’m not a child, I’m 22 years old’ you protest. ‘Yeah, okay kid’ Tony says. ‘Hello’ Loki greets and another round of groans greet him.

You quickly jump to defend that to him, ‘They’re just terribly hungover, Loki’.

He smiles at you and walks over. ‘Can I help you?’ ‘You actually can. Tell me you know how to make poached eggs?’ ‘I wish I could’ ‘Can you toss some tomatoes around in a pan?’ ‘Never done that before, I could try?’ ‘Can you slice the bread?’ ‘Yes, that I can do for you’.

You hand him a large bread knife and a loaf of uncut brown bread, and instruct him to cut the slices thick.

Tony’s eyes widen at you handing Loki a knife that large, but says nothing. You notice, and badly wish to make a show of it, but decide not to.

You turn to the stove to make your poached eggs, while the crust of the bread cracking under the knife act as music to your ears. You don’t cook much, but when you do, you love to smell and touch and hear everything. Loki cuts the slices as instructed, and after toasting them, and places them all on plates, ready for you to lay the eggs on them. You add tomatoes and mashed potatoes to the plate as well, and wash your hands quickly to cut some fruit.

Loki leans over as you cut an apple. ‘Can I show you something?’ he asks. You look up from your task without stopping it, ‘Of course’

He creates five clones of himself, which each take two plates and walk to set them down on the dining table. You laugh. ‘That’s amazing!’

Everyone else is sceptical, but hearing your laughter, they stay put. They still glare at all the Lokis setting their plates of food down, but the clones promptly vanish after the task.

‘You could cook us an entire meal and not lift a damn finger’ you tell Loki.

He looks genuinely glad you enjoyed the show. He takes the one remaining plate that’s yours and waits for you to bring the fruits over. You finish up, wash your hands again, and sit at the dining table with the rest. You notice Loki has shifted from his usual seat to one right across from you. You steal glances at him while you eat, recounting the previous night when you watched Doctor Who together. However, it’s the episode you keep recounting, not actually sitting next to Loki watching it.

‘What plans today?’ you hear Tony ask. ‘Pep and I are going down to Clint’s, he said he needs help fixing up some farm equipment’. ‘Can Bruce and I join?’ Natasha asks, to which Tony says yes.

Everyone else has plans outside; Rhodey has a camping trip planned with his friends, since it’s a three-day weekend. Vision and Wanda are moving out of the tower to a nearby apartment, and want to set that up, and Thor wants to take Jane to Asgard.

After everyone has ticked off their plans, they ask you what you plan to do. Normally, you join in on whatever Tony is doing, other times you meet with your friends from back in S.H.I.E.L.D, but you see that Loki has no plans, and no one has included him in theirs either. You look across and notice him picking at his food, trying to not think about it.

‘Oh, I’m staying in the Tower with Loki and marathoning Doctor Who again’ you say.

You feel Tony’s gaze burn into you, while the others silently continue to eat.

‘Have fun’ you hear Bruce say. It sounds forced. ‘You too’ you still say.

You walk into the lab to pick up a few papers and see Bruce and Tony.

‘Aren’t you guys leaving?’ ‘Yeah, in a second, we just needed to put the stone back. Can’t leave it open for an entire weekend’ Tony says. ‘Hm, fair enough’ you go to your table and pick up another set of papers Strange sent over. He certainly has you doing a lot of reading!

‘Do you want one of us to stay back?’ Tony asks. ‘Whatever for?’ ‘You KNOW what for, you can’t be alone with him in the Tower’. ‘I’m NOT alone, the tower is full of security and staff... although why the Avengers Tower needs security, I don't know'. ‘You know what I mean’. ‘No, I really don’t’ you’re getting a little annoyed now. ‘Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have preferred ONE person being on your side vouching for you, being there for you, when you thought the worst of yourself a few years ago?’

Silence.

‘Well, why does it have to be you?’ Tony asks.

‘Because... it’s no one else’ you sigh. ‘Because I’ve been here for a whole year, he has been here longer, and in all that time, it’s been no one else. And I know what that’s like. YOU know what it’s like, how can you let anyone feel that way when you personally know how terrible it feels?’

‘He just wants you to be safe’ Bruce says. ‘I know’ you place your hand on Tony’s shoulder. ‘Tony, the burden of the world doesn’t fall upon you. You don’t have to be responsible for every single thing’.

He looks at you, his face inscrutable. He finally shrugs and pulls you into a hug. ‘You be safe, okay? If there’s literally anything, you call me. I don’t care if it’s 4 AM and you’re dead, you call me’.

You laugh. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, assuming the after world has good phone reception’.

‘If you’re carrying the phones I issued, they'll work anywhere’ he lets go and winks at you. ‘Now get outta here, go watch your time travel show’.

You walk into your room, expecting Loki to already be waiting there with the remote in hand, but he isn’t. You wonder if he’s playing a prank on you and call out his name. Setting the papers down, you look behind the curtains, open up your closet, and check the washroom. Nothing.

Where is he?

Figuring he’ll appear when he wants to, you start on the pages Strange sent you.

About an hour later, the door to your room opens. You look up see it’s Loki.

‘Hey, where have you been!?’ ‘Where have I been!? Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for an hour’ he says. ‘Aren’t we watching it here?’ ‘No, I told you, since we’re alone, I thought we’d watch it in Stark’s theatre’.

Oh right. Stark also has a theatre in the residential wing for movie nights. He mostly screens horror films, much to your annoyance, so you rarely ever go there. But you never considered watching your favourite TV shows on there.

‘That’s an amazing idea, why did I never think of that!?’ you push your notes and papers aside and get up. ‘I also got the staff to get us some traditional movie snacks’ he informs you.

You squeal and clutch his wrist, and pull him out the room as you do so before letting go quickly. You don’t know it, but you just sent tingles up and down his body, and he is now smiling the biggest smile walking behind you.

You sit at the back of the theatre, the seats next to yours and his full of snacks. Popcorn, cookies, nachos, chips, even hot dogs. You wonder how the conversation went between Loki and the staff member he asked to fetch all of this on a Saturday for just two people.

The marathon begins.

Tuesday morning, the rest of the Avengers come in to work. You’re already awake, and decide to greet them all at the reception.

Rhodey trudges in first with his rucksack, stinking to high heaven. You gasp and try to push him away as he tries to hug you. ‘You took Stark’s jet, it has a freaking shower, Rhodes!’ ‘I thought it would be more fun to hug you like this, what’s wrong, don’t you like it?’ he asks innocently. ‘Shut up, go take a shower, oh my god my eyes are burning’.

He laughs and drags his rucksack along.

Tony and company come next, carrying their bags. Clint is on the phone, most probably with his wife. You greet them, and Tony asks how your weekend was.

‘Excellent, I may have put on a little weight with all the snacks I ate, so I have to work extra hard this week’ you joke. Natasha hugs you, and lovingly pokes your stomach. ‘You’re back on training right after breakfast'. ‘Yes ma’am’ you give her a small salute.

The rest of the company moves along and Bruce stays back. ‘Are you good? Tony was worried’.

‘Yeah, I had a great time. We literally just watched the show and ate’. ‘Okay…’ Bruce sighs from relief. ‘Good to hear. I’ll see you in the lab’.

Thor comes in next. You greet him too, and he wordlessly walks up to you and envelopes you in a giant hug.

‘What’s happening’ you ask. ‘Heimdall saw you’. ‘That’s the watcher dude?’ He laughs, still holding you. ‘Yes, the watcher dude. The watcher dude says Loki hasn’t been this happy in ages, and I think you’re doing a good job’.

You weren’t trying to do anything, but you're glad to learn Loki is in fact enjoying your company. ‘It’s no trouble. He’s fun to spend time with, we enjoy a lot of the same things’. ‘Like what!?’

You wish you hadn’t said that, because what you’ve spent the weekend talking to Loki about is the Infinity Stones. Not the sentience, because you knew that would be a bit much, but certainly about its powers, the previous owners, the seventh that was destroyed by Adam Warlock, its place in the cosmos, and much, much more.

You can’t tell Thor this, of course, because it would be interpreted differently.

‘Just, you know. Time travel. And other planets. He told me about Asgard’. This wasn’t a lie. ‘That’s nice’ he smiles warmly at you. ‘Well, I have some work in Asgard, I only came to drop Jane off and thank you. Goodbye’. ‘Bye’ you say. You hear a thud, the Tower shakes, and Thor disappears.

Finally, Wanda and Vision walk in and greet you. You aren’t that close with them, but you're always nice to each other.

You go for breakfast, and things go on as usual.

There’s a week left for the extraction mission, and Tony informs you that he expects it to take about a week, five days if he were coming, but he isn’t, causing Natasha to roll her eyes.

A group of arms dealers are expected to be in New York next week. Your mission is to infiltrate the warehouse in Queens, where they are working. Tony has found out they will be getting a new shipment of weapons in a week, and bit by bit, your team is to break down their networks in Hong Kong and Dubai.

You’ve been on field assignments before, but never this long, nor this big. Nervousness isn’t even a word in your dictionary, you’ve been preparing for this so long, you feel like you could kill it in a single day. Tony senses your fire and has been “subtly” trying to direct that energy into training.

‘I know what you’re doing, I’ll be fine’ you protest. ‘I just don’t want you bouncing off the walls during the mission. I know how excited you get’.

Even Bruce wants you out of the lab after a point because you won’t stop talking and walking around, being a total distraction. Bored, and having trained and training new S.H.I.E.L.D recruits, you decide to see what Loki is up to.

You walk in on him reading in the living room.

The living room is huge, furnished in white with subtle gold embellishments. Tony considered asking every Avenger giving their personal touches here and there, and decided it wouldn't work, because Thor wanted red, Natasha wanted black, and Vision thought minimalism was a good idea, while Rhodey disagreed and asked for a water feature. So Tony listened to no one and just did what he wanted.

‘What are you reading?’ you ask, walking in.

Loki shows you the cover. American Gods.

‘Why are you reading that?’ ‘I think it’s amusing how the writer has painted Odin’.

You smile, remembering that in the story, Odin is a fallen god.

‘I leave in a week’ you say. ‘Yes, I know’ Loki says, without looking up from his book.

You wait for any sort of acknowledgement that he’ll miss you, or at least to be safe. When you get nothing, you shrug and sit down across from him.

‘I’m bored’. ‘Uhuh’. ‘Do you wanna fight me?’ you ask, quite casually. ‘What!?’

You grin at him. ‘I’m bored, and also excited about the mission, and I don’t know what to do with all this energy’. Not having sparred in ages himself, Loki puts his book aside and stands up. ‘Where?’ ‘Training room’.

#loki #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fanfic #marvel fan fiction #avengers fandom #tom hiddleston #twhiddleston #tom hiddlston x you #marvel fandom

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wolfpawn · 5 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 93

Chapter Summary - Tom leaves for the Kong: Skull Island tour and Danielle is filling her life with time with her friends and work in his absence.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom kissed Danielle passionately. “Are you sure you want to bring me, I could get a…” She silenced him with another kiss.

“I won’t go back to sleep regardless, so I may as well give you a lift, a few last minutes with you. After all, when you come back, we are going to be at risk of being seen, and for that, we should enjoy this. No one is going to know when you are going and who is dropping you, so we get to relax with this.” She smiled.

“You ramble when you’re tired.” “Shut up, get a shower, I am going to get us some breakfast and you are going to add your phone and wallet to your bags.”

“Speaking of which, where are they?” Tom looked to the corner where he had placed the bags the night before.

“By the front door.” “Elle! They were heavy.” He reprimanded. “You know that as a paramedic you have to at least be able to lift heavy objects, trust me, those were not heavy.” She grinned, “Now get ready, you have a long day ahead of you, you need a good meal before you go.” “You are such a mother.” Danielle stared at him with a raised brow. “Just the way you insist on having a big breakfast and everything.” He wrapped his arms around her. “You are anything but the Hollywood norm and I love that about you.” He kissed her again.

“I am trying really hard not to allow this go further,” She groaned, squeezing his ass cheeks for a moment before stepping back. “Well, I will now, I could not resist that.” She added.

Tom chuckled. “I’ll be about fifteen minutes.”

“Tick Tock.”

* “Hey.” Tom’s voice was tired as he heard Danielle pick up on the other side. “When did the plane land?” “I am in the car to the hotel now.” He answered. “How are you?” “Good, Mac and I had a good day here, we just hoovered the whole sitting room, including in the couch.” “Elle?” “Fine, I hoovered, Mac just sat there shedding as I did it to give me more to do. I…Seriously, I groomed you fifteen minutes ago, where did that come from?” Tom laughed as Danielle sounded exasperated at the dog’s further shedding at the other end of the phone. “That’s it, I’m shaving him.” “I am sure he would love that, can you shave him?” “Can you, yes, should you, no. it ruins their fur apparently. I don’t know exactly how, but it is just not recommended. But I am tempted.” She sighed. “How was your flight?” “Long, but fine, it was a private jet, so we are all rested.” “Good, no transfers and waiting with the plebs that way,” she joked. As Tom laughed, she heard something, or more to the point someone in the background. “You’re not alone in that car, are you?”

“No, Brie is here too,” Tom admitted.

“She heard me, didn’t she?” “Yes, and before you ask, yes, she is laughing.” “I hate you right now, a little warning would have been nice.” She hissed in a low voice.

“She knows that you are mad, I told her about you already,” Tom stated jestfully.

“Oh well, that’s alright if she is forewarned.” Danielle’s tone lightened again. “So, what are the plans?” “Hotel, shower, something to eat and premiere.” “I am not going to lie, I am not the least bit jealous, that sounds exhausting.” “It is. What about you?” “Well, it is eleven at night here. I am meeting Emma tomorrow for lunch and we are thinking about going to see something in the cinema this weekend.” “I recommend Skull Island,” There was a distinctive hint of a smile on Tom’s as he spoke. “I cannot say I am surprised by the recommendation,” Danielle laughed back. “I better let you go, for now, I have to bring this fella out to the bathroom before we head to bed. He misses you by the way.”

“I miss both of you.”

“You should see the guilty look on his face, actually, I am going to take a photo of this and show it to you, it is too funny.” “I actually have a photo I forgot to show you when you went to Ireland, he made a mess on the floor with his water and tried to hide it, he looked so guilty, I will send it on. Goodnight Elle, I will ring you when it is morning here.” “Don’t put yourself out, give me a text after the movie to let me know how you are getting on and talk to you when you get a chance, Night Tom.” She sighed, her exhaustion blatant.

“Did you go back to bed this morning?” “Never got a chance, I got a phone call from Nacelle about a great project she is working on that she found out would be a couple days’ work for me in Suffolk, so I had to update my CV and send it on, then got caught in a Skype interview, walk Mac, the usual.” “Why didn’t you say that when I asked what you did today?” Tom asked, confused.

“Because I don’t want to talk work when I don’t have much time talking with you, I actually was going to tell you in the morning.”

“How far is it from yours and Mum’s?” “Half an hour.” “That’s perfect.” “Starts Monday.” “Brilliant.”

“Yep, so I am getting this place sorted before I go, Mac and I are moving out Sunday morning. Your mum is delighted, I think Nacelle is too, she hates the people she is supposed to be sharing an apartment with, so she is going to crash with us.”

“Excellent, you’ll have company.” There was no response. “This isn’t a good thing?” “She has sworn to ‘declutter’ my wardrobe.” “What will that entail?” Tom chuckled.

“Me hiding my favourite clothes in your mum’s until after she leaves.” Tom laughed. “No seriously, I fear for my clothes.” Tom laughed more. “I am glad you take pleasure in my torment.” “Sorry darling, but it is a funny image to have, you fleeing with your clothes to my mum’s, her staring at you in confusion.” “Thanks.” Her tone was deadpan. “If I was on talking terms with your car mate, I would ask her to give you a clip from me for that.” “What’s a clip?” Bree asked.

“A smack across the head…ouch!”

“Ha ha, thank you.” Danielle laughed, “Serves you right.” She yawned again. “Get some rest darling, you sound exhausted.” “I am, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Elle.” Tom took the phone down from his ear. “Was the necessary?” “What, you were mocking her, I did her a favour, woman to woman.” Brie shrugged as the car drove to the hotel. “You have never met Danielle.” “No, but you don’t stop smiling when you get a text from her, you only say nice things about her and she seems really funny, so I feel some sort of honour towards her.”

“She is great, how did you not meet her after the film in London?” “I am not sure, I didn’t realise she was there.” “She came with my sister.” “It’s great your family get on so well with her, Alex’s sister doesn’t really like me.” “That’s a pity, Elle was Emma’s friend before we started going out.” “Did that not cause conflict?” “For a few days, it’s my sister she is meeting tomorrow.”

“I am jealous, you really were lucky in the end with how things worked out for you Tom.”

He could only agree.

* “So, what’ll we watch?”

“I was thinking.” Danielle eyed Emma carefully, usually when her friend suggested such words, it resulted in them drinking and her feeling like death the next day. “It’ll be fun.” “I am too old for the fun I know you are suggesting.” “I haven’t even suggested it yet.” “Fine,” Danielle conceded. “What is it?” “You, me and a show.” “What show?”

“It’s one my friend Susan is in, remember her?” “She wore that gorgeous dress to your wedding, the one with one shoulder.” “That one, she is in it, it is being done by an Irish guy, something about moving over here and the difficulties it caused after everything that happened pre 90’s.”

“Okay, sounds good. What time?” “Six.” “I am not dressed for it.” Danielle pointed out.

“We’ll head to yours…Toms…God, it is weird saying that.” Emma admitted.

Danielle gave her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry.” “No, not bad, just weird. My friend and my brother. It is going to be so interesting when people realise that.” “I am sure I will be the worse friend ever, only using you to get to him, hell I probably even chose the house next to your mums pre-empting him becoming a huge movie star and her ex-boyfriend to get myself ahead.” Emma snorted. “Ten pounds says that is exactly what some rag is going to say.”

“We both know it.” Danielle laughed.

“Are you okay with it all now?” Emma questioned as the waiter brought their food.

“I am aware of what it entails, and though I am not overly welcoming it, I am not going to let it bother me, it was fucking things up between us, so I needed to either accept it or go, because it was not fair on Tom, or myself for that matter, I was losing sleep with it.”

“At least it won’t be as mad as with her. A few days of harassment then the occasional sightings.” “I am just looking forward to it getting boring and getting on with life.”

“You are incredibly boring, the two of you.” Emma jested, laughing as she dodged a small crust of bread Danielle threw at her.

Danielle – Hey handsome, I am just back from watching a show in the West End with your sister, we had a great time, I hope you are doing well there and catching up on sleep, though I doubt it. I can’t remember did you say LA or NY next, but best of luck, I will talk to you tomorrow. xx

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 93 #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

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lady-divine-writes · 6 years

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Kurtbastian one-shot - “An Egg-cellent Disaster” (Rated PG13)

Sebastian suffers a bout of PTSD when Isabelle invites Kurt and their family to an upscale egg hunt. (3308 words)

Notes: This isn't a re-write, but I wrote one similar for K*laine.

Part 38 of Daddies.

Read on AO3.

“Ugh. Can you get PTSD from an Easter egg hunt? I’m asking for a friend,” Sebastian says, glancing over his shoulder as he leads his husband, his son, and his son’s service dog towards the swankiest gathering of New York’s elite that he’s seen in a long time. This isn’t normally how they spend Easter, and if it were up to him, they would have done what they always do – color eggs and hide them around their house, bake Kurt’s mom’s special braided Easter bread, sit on the sofa and watch their little boy eat too many jelly beans until he vibrates into another dimension. They’d run him around the yard until he passed out from exhaustion, then lock themselves in their bedroom and have some adult fun with the ears and tail of an old bunny costume Kurt’s parents sent them one year. But ever since Kurt got his promotion at Vogue, they’ve been attending more events like this over the holidays – outlandish affairs that required them to dress in more-expensive-than-usual attire and rub elbows with the upper crust.

It’s how Sebastian spent a good portion of his own childhood, so it should be old hat to him by now. But the older he gets, the more he values his quiet life. And things like this, which Kurt handles with the grace and energy of a professional socialite, have begun to wear on him.

He can’t blame Kurt for this one. He didn’t choose this. He didn’t even know egg hunts of this caliber existed.

It was his boss Isabelle’s idea.

Sebastian loves Isabelle. Kurt owes her a ton for giving him his big break right after he graduated high school, when he’d moved to New York with no other plan than to survive, which means Sebastian owes her, too.

After this, though, Sebastian might consider declaring them even.

“Having flashbacks?” Kurt teases, taking his hand as they pick their way through the grass over to a roped off area. From what he can see, it’s roughly about the size of two football fields end to end, which Kurt finds astounding since half of the children here look barely old enough to walk yet.

How are they going to cover the length of one football field, not to mention two? They’ll be huddled in one corner, whining over a dozen plastic eggs, leaving an entire section of grass completely unexplored.

“You can say that,” Sebastian says, stopping when Thomas chooses a spot and plops down in the grass. “My parents took me and my brother to one of these stupid hunts every single year. You’d think it would be fun. I mean, it was at the country club, there were other kids, eventual chocolate. But it was never fun.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t just getting together with our friends and looking for eggs. It was a competition. Our parents were pitting their kids against each other to see whose family was better. But by the end, the other kids didn’t matter. For my parents, it became me against my brother.” Sebastian stops the story there, stops short of telling Kurt exactly how far his parents’ disappointment in him went. He’ll tell Kurt one of these days. But now is not the time. Not in front of Thomas. “It was kind of traumatizing.”

Kurt puts a hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Oh, Sebastian. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me? We could have found a way to bow out.”

“Because you always get so excited when Isabelle invites you to these things. I didn’t want you to miss it. It’s important to you.”

“Yeah, but you’re more important. One of the most important.”

“You can make it up to me later,” Sebastian suggests, leaning in close so Thomas won’t hear. “You know … nakedly?”

Kurt rolls his eyes, but he didn’t expect anything less. “Look, Isabelle hasn’t seen us yet. Maybe we can …”

“Kurt! Sebastian! Oh, thank goodness you could make it! I was scared you’d get caught in the holiday traffic!”

Kurt sighs. He had always referred to Isabelle as his ‘fairy godmother’ in part because of the dreams she’d been able to help him realize, but also because of her impeccable timing.

It was close to occult.

Kurt mouths sorry to his husband for getting his hopes up while his boss is too far away to notice.

“Isabelle! We wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Kurt feels his husband grimace as he greets his boss with a hug and a kiss on each cheek. “We actually came up yesterday and rented a room not too far from here to make sure we’d get here on time.”

“Fabulous!” she says, kissing Kurt and then moving on to Sebastian. “Make sure you send me the bill!”

“You know I will.” Kurt watches Isabelle move on to Thomas and Hepburn. Thomas may not like being kissed, but he loves Isabelle as much as his parents do, so he sits still and lets her fuss over him, coo about how cute and grown up he looks, so much like his fathers in his smart grey slacks and navy blue button down. “So, what are the rules here?” Kurt asks, searching the grounds for a sign, a poster, a handout, something. “Is there a time limit? Are the kids separated by athletic ability? Or age?”

Kurt isn’t a huge fan of things like Easter egg hunts or baby races. He doesn’t have the patience to handle large congregations of kids and parents. Being a member of the PTA at his son’s school is the farthest he’ll stretch. And even though he wanted to come today, he was hoping to constrict their revelry to family members only, so if they can find their own section of the park to conduct their Easter biz without having to socialize, even with the elite, that would suit him fine.

“You’re making this too complicated!” Isabelle laughs under the assumption that Kurt is joking. “It’s just an Easter egg hunt, Kurt!”

“We usually confine our egg hunting to our house, maybe the front porch,” Sebastian says.

“Yeah. Besides, tromping through the grass in search of hard boiled eggs isn’t the way my father and I spent Easter.”

“How did you spend Easter?” Isabelle asks, realizing that after knowing Kurt for over a decade, she has no clue.

“The way many a well-rounded, musical theater inclined child did. I watched Brigadoon on AMC.”

Sebastian side-eyes his husband with a scowl that makes Isabelle snicker. “How in the hell did you and I ever get together?”

“You decided to stop being a royal idiot about pretty much everything in your life and do something smart for once.”

Isabelle guffaws so loudly at that, Hepburn’s ears prick up.

“Wow …” Sebastian says, mouth agape. “I … don’t know how to respond to that.”

“A simple you’re absolutely right, love of my life, I will never doubt your incredible wisdom in all things again will suffice.”

“Not the direction I was going to go, but okay. As long as it gets me some ass after this is over with.”

Kurt elbows his husband.

Isabelle snorts. “Come on, guys! Let’s enjoy ourselves! It’s a beautiful day! The sun is shining, the sky is blue, and I think the Easter bunny just arrived!”

“The Easter bunny!?” Thomas pipes up from his seat in the grass. “Where?”

Sebastian, Kurt, and Thomas take a gander at the festivities around them heralding the soon-to-be start of the egg hunt. Indeed, the Easter bunny had arrived. But this was not your average, human-sized, department store cottontail dressed in a pastel vest and straw top hat, carrying a basket of colorful, candy-filled plastic eggs. This Easter bunny is easily seven feet tall, dressed in what could only be described as a vintage suit of aubergine brocade with matching purple top hat; a tall, white plume tucked inside the olive green hat band; a gold monocle over his left eye; carrying a hand-carved mahogany walking stick in one hand, and a Moses basket in the other, filled to bursting with eggs, jelly beans, foil-wrapped chocolates, and trinkets and tidbits that catch the light and twinkle like gemstones. He’s surrounded by an entourage of handlers, each wearing an outfit to complement the bunny’s own and carrying baskets of the same treats to hand out to the kids. The bunny and his team walk the perimeter of the field, and a parade forms behind him – adorable little boys and girls bedecked in their Sunday best, dresses and suits that Kurt saw advertised in Vogue for close to four figures. But some of them are dressed in honest to God athletic wear.

Those boys and girls look downright intimidating.

“I don’t know.” Kurt eyes five children dressed in matching track suits and running shoes. “Some of the people here look awfully competitive.”

“That’s an understatement,” Sebastian adds. Back in his day, the kids and parents were competitive as fuck. But this – this is on a whole other level.

“Of course they are! The prizes here are outstanding! Last year, they hid a $10,000 Tiffany engagement ring in one of the eggs!”

Kurt’s eyebrows shoot up so far, they disappear somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline. “Really?”

“Sounds about right,” Sebastian mutters, shivering with the memory of having his hand stepped on by no less than three pairs of dress shoes in an effort to reach a particularly difficult to get at egg. All the kids knew that the farther the lie, the better the prize. That was something the organizers of the egg hunt used to sing as they released the children, like hounds, to sniff out the treats.

He suddenly feels queasy, stomach acids sloshing left to right as he shoves that little ditty aside. But even with it pushed out of the way, he can’t help feeling sick.

Why were they there again?

“They go all out - luxury vacations, spa packages, theater tickets … but don’t worry,” Isabelle says when she notices how pale Sebastian has become. “The emphasis here is on fun.”

“Do they know that?” Kurt asks, motioning with his chin towards a nearby family dressed entirely in Under Armour from The Rock’s latest collection – mother, father, and their five-year-old daughter staring down Thomas like a lion stares down an easy meal.

Under Armour – proud sponsor of Easter and good-natured family fun, Kurt thinks spitefully. He wonders if Isabelle has the same thought as she quickly pulls out her iPhone and starts snapping some pics.

Their attentions are directed upward by the sound of a helicopter arriving, circling the area above their heads.

“Okay, why is that here?” Kurt asks. It’d be easy to assume it’s paparazzi, but there isn’t supposed to be any here. That’s part of the appeal. There are guards posted everywhere to ensure the privacy of the families participating. But they can’t be everywhere at once. It’s possible one or two might get through.

“It’s here to drop more eggs from above! Those are the ones people really go for. Some of them are made out of solid gold!” Isabelle explains, nearly drooling after the words solid gold.

“What the---? That’s insane! Even my parents’ country club never went that far!” Sebastian envisions something the size of a chicken egg made of gold plummeting from the sky and smacking him on the head. That would definitely leave a dent in his skull, at the very least.

Could he survive that impact?

“Ouch!” Kurt kneels beside his son and covers his head protectively while keeping an eye on the sky. “Isn’t this a little excessive? I mean, we have the money to go to whatever spa we want. That’s one of the perks of being rich.”

“That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen!” Sebastian says, pointing towards the sky. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember signing a waiver!” He joins his husband, son, and Hepburn, hovering over them in an effort to protect them all when he swears he hears the copter swoop down. “What kid needs a Tiffany engagement ring anyway? This sounds like it’s going to turn into a blood bath!” He meets Kurt’s gaze, his husband’s eyes wide, unsure what to do about this, about this mess he’s gotten them into. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“No!” Isabelle pleads. “Just … give it a few minutes! Please? An hour at the most? I promise we’ll have fun! I’ve been looking forward to getting you out here for this Easter egg hunt ever since I found out you’d adopted Thomas!”

Kurt shakes his head slowly. He is here for work, but that shouldn’t include putting his life, and the lives of his family, in danger! Isabelle is his friend. She won’t make him stay if they’re uncomfortable, especially considering Thomas’s history of anxiety. But there’s a look in her eyes he hasn’t seen before. Not crazy, per se, but slightly unhinged? But not in a bad way? “I don’t know …”

“We’re at a big, private park. There’s a playground and a lake not too far from here. If you don’t like the Easter egg hunt, we can go over there and Thomas can play. But can we give this a try first? Please?”

Kurt looks from a worried Sebastian, awkwardly shielding their heads, to Hepburn, instinctively on alert, back to Isabelle, and sighs. Isabelle means well. She’s from a wealthy family in Columbus, so she probably went to egg hunts like this one, same as Sebastian. Perhaps her experiences were better. With no kids of her own, she probably tries to strong arm all the employees with kids to come to this thing so she can relive her childhood.

Looking at the expression on her face, she seems nothing if not sincere.

In the end, for Kurt, it’s all about Thomas. And his son - playing in the grass, singing a song about the Easter bunny that he learned in school, without a care in the world - seems to be enjoying himself so far.

They’re already here. They drove for hours to get here. And it is a stunning location. They can stick it out for a while, collect a few eggs, dodge the helicopter, grab some punch and cookies over at the refreshment table, and then retire to the playground. They brought Hepburn’s toys with them. They can tire Thomas and his dog out in one fell swoop. It’ll be fine. It might even be fun.

If anything, the pictures will be precious.

“Alright,” Kurt says, feeling the weight of his husband deflating a bit in defeat. He knows that Sebastian was hoping this was their out, and on any given day, falling solid gold projectiles would be. But Kurt is in the unfortunate position of having to juggle the feelings of multiple people that he loves. “We’ll give it an hour.”

“Yay!” Isabelle says. “That’s all I ask.”

“But after that …”

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen! Lads and lasses! Step right up to the starting line! The 53rd Annual Hampton Bay Easter Egg Hunt is about to begin!”

“Starting line?” Sebastian repeats, looking left and right. “What starting line?”

Kurt looks around, too, in confusion. Starting line? He doesn’t remember seeing anything marked starting line. There was only the rope boundary and …

Uh oh …

While they’d been discussing staying or going, they hadn’t noticed that the parade of kids and parents following the Easter bunny had circled round and stopped about a hundred feet away … right where the rope Kurt, Sebastian, Thomas, and Hepburn passed to get in had been set up. There they stood – a mob of adults and children lined up in starting positions, brows furrowed in deep concentration, ready to charge, like a re-enactment of The Hunger Games if the eccentrically dressed inhabitants of the Capitol City were the ones on the attack.

Sebastian, Kurt, Thomas, and Isabelle didn’t know.

Nobody told them.

Nobody warned them.

Nobody seemed to care that they were sitting in the grass, dead center, in the way.

“On your marks …”

“Daddy …” Thomas grabs his father’s hand in both of his and squeezes tight.

“… get set …”

“No, no, no, no …” Sebastian springs to his feet, gearing up to drag the lot of them off the field before the announcer can get to Go!

But he never does.

And not because he’s waiting for them to vacate the field. (Who knows if the man even sees them?) But because the start of the hunt is proclaimed by a gun shot.

The sharp pop hits the air.

After that, the roar of hundreds of feet hitting the ground, along with the frantic screaming of children, is deafening. At the same time, the helicopter above releases its bounty. Plastic eggs rain down around them, exploding on contact, spreading chocolate shrapnel within a foot of where they land. One hits Sebastian on the top of his head.

“Ow! God!” he wails, rubbing an already forming bump with his fingers. He doesn’t know what the heck was inside that thing, but his head begins to throb.

No way is he going to stay there if something made of solid gold is headed his way.

“Run!” Sebastian says, pulling his husband to his feet and getting pelted by another plastic egg in the process. He sees this one where it lands, spraying jelly beans left and right, and he starts laughing.

“Sebastian!” Kurt cries. Hepburn barks once in warning and yanks Thomas the shortest distance across the field. Kurt covers the boy’s head with his jacket and bolts, leaving Sebastian behind in a mad dash for their car. “Sebastian! For God’s sake! Hurry up!”

Sebastian runs to catch up, but three steps in, a featureless gold blur hits the ground hard, and his foot gets caught in the hole it makes. He falls to his knees, laughing hysterically at the absurdity of it all. Spoiled little rich kid with daddy issues. That’s what Kurt had called him once back in high school – back when they hated one another. Little did Kurt know how close to the mark that comment hit, or how deeply the already scarred over wounds went. But the reason Kurt didn’t know, not for a long time, is because Sebastian had worked so hard to hide them, run away from them. He was going to grow up better than his upbringing. He was going to become a successful person, a successful parent, whether his own parents were proud of him or not. But all the things they did to break him down - Sebastian didn’t find a way to get rid of them. He simply carried them with him. And here he was – a husband and a father, scared of an Easter egg hunt! Granted, he was in very real danger of ending up with a concussion, but fuck the rest!

Isabelle was right! It’s a beautiful day! And regardless of the greedy horde about to trample him into the dirt, he was going to have the best day ever because he’s surrounded by people he loves!

People who will mourn him when he’s gone.

“Raise our son well, Kurt!” he chokes out over the howl of the raging onslaught. “And remember, I always loved you! Well, ninety-three percent of the time!”

Kurt turns to see his husband, red-faced with laughter, swallowed by the crowd, and despite being concerned for his safety, he can’t help laughing, too. He knows that in a few minutes the crowd will pass, and Sebastian will emerge the way he always does – cocky as hell, obnoxiously triumphant, and probably with a dozen of those golden eggs Isabelle was fiending over. “You’re a good man, Sebastian Smythe! You shall be missed!”

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #frankie writes

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