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abbygrabska · 9 months ago

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The Lazarus Experiment

The Doctor told me he was dropping Martha off, so I decided to stay in my room.

I know for a fact something’s gonna change in the next five minutes.

I was right, because the Doctor opens my door and says, “Change of plans, we’re going to an event, get changed, formal attire.”

He then closes the door.

I nod to myself, going to my bathroom and taking a quick shower before doing my hair and makeup.

I go into my closet, which luckily the Tardis controls.

There’s a pink dress and a pair of white kitten heels, “My favorite pair.”

The Doctor and Martha are waiting for me in the console room.

They turn at my footsteps, both looking awestruck.

“Well, how do I look?” I ask.

“Gorgeous.” Martha smiles.

“Ethereal.” The Doctor grins.

I grin at both of them, “Well, let's go then.” We walk down the street.

The Doctor is fussing with the cuffs of his dress shirt, “Oh, black tie. Whenever I wear this, something bad always happens.” “I think that’s just you.” I laugh, “Besides. It suits you. In a James Bond kinda way.”

“James Bond?” He grins, “Really?”

I giggle as we approach the impressive entrance to Lazarus Laboratories. Inside the main reception room, guests are mingling. Dominating the room is a large white round cabinet surrounded by four pillars with a slight curve at the top.

The Doctor takes some hors-d’oeuvres from a passing tray, “Oh, look, they’ve got nibbles! I love nibbles!” He tosses one whole into his mouth.

Someone I assume Martha knows walks over, “Hello.” “Tish.” The two hug.

“You look great. So, what do you think? Impressive, isn’t it?” Martha nods, “Very.” “And two nights out in a row for you, that’s dangerously close to a social life.” Tish teases.

“You might, actually. Keep an eye out for photographers. And mum, she’s coming too, even dragging Leo along with her.”

Martha looks gobsmacked, “Leo in black tie? That I must see.” Tish glances at me and the Doctor.

“This is the Doctor, and Abby.” Martha introduces.

The Doctor shakes her hand, “Hello.” “Are they with you?” Tish asks.

“Yeah.” “But they’re not on the list, how did they get in?” I smile, linking hands with Martha, “I’m her plus one, and the Doctor is on the list, just under a different name.” She furrows her brow, looking between me and Martha, before it clicks, “Oh! Good for you, Martha.”

“So, do you know what the professor’s going to be doing tonight? That looks like it might be a sonic microfield manipulator.”

“He’s a science geek. I should’ve known. Gotta get back to work now. I’ll catch up with you later.” Tish leaves to mingle.

“Science geek? What does that mean?” He frowns, before realizing that I am holding Martha’s hand, “What’re you doing that for?”

“It means you are obsessively enthusiastic about it. And as for this,” I lift mine and Martha’s hand, “I figured I’m more Martha’s type than you are.” I grin at him.

He nods, frowning slightly.

Someone calls Martha’s name. She turns and looks at the woman as if she hasn’t seen her in years.

“Mum!” She gives her a big hug.

“Oh. all right, what’s the occasion?” Her mother asks.

“What do you mean? I’m just pleased to see you, that’s all.” “You saw me last night.”

“I know. I just… miss you. You’re looking good, Leo.”

“Yeah. if anyone ask me to fetch ‘em a drink, I’ll swing at ‘em.” Martha’s mother seems to notice the Doctor and I.

“You disappeared last night.” “I… just went home.” “On your own?”

I smile, wrapping an arm around Martha’s waist, “Hello, you must be Martha’s mom. I’m Abby, and this is Doctor John Smith.”

“How’d you know Martha?” Her mother asks.

“Well, this is our third date, and her and John are doing some work together.”

“Date?” Her mother’s eyebrows raise.

Our conversation is cut short, as there is a tapping on glass.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am Professor Richard Lazarus and tonight I’m going to perform a miracle. It is, I believe, the most important advance since Rutherford split the atom, the biggest leap since Armstrong stood on the moon. Tonight, you will watch and wonder. Tomorrow, you’ll awake to a world which will be changed forever.” Lazarus enters the cabinet.

Two technicians start the machinery from a bank of instruments behind the cabinet. There is a high-pitched whir and a bright blue light as the four pillars begin to spin individually creating an energy field. They then begin to rotate around the cabinet, going faster and faster. A warning klaxon goes off.

“Something’s wrong. It’s overloading.”

The technicians try to stop it, but some of the panels explode, sending off sparks. The Doctor jumps over the low desk and aims his sonic screwdriver at the controls.

“Somebody stop him! Get him away from those controls!” “If this thing goes off, it’ll take the whole building with it. Is that what you want?” The Doctor pulls one of the main wires that connect to the cabinet and it slowly stops spinning.

Martha and I run to the door.

“Get it open!”

We open the door and watch, as through the smoke, Lazarus emerges looking 40 years younger. Photographers snap away as we look on amazed.

Lazarus touches his face, realizing it worked. He steps completely out and stands before his machine, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am Richard Lazarus. I am 76 years old and I am reborn!” He holds his arms up in triumph as everyone claps.

People take the opportunity to have their photos taken with Lazarus.

Martha and I watch the Doctor study the machine. “It can’t be the same guy. It’s impossible. It must be a trick.” Martha says. “Oh, it’s not a trick. I wish it were.”

“What just happened, then?” I ask.

“He just changed what it means to be human.”

We walk up just as Richard starts shoveling food into his mouth.

“Richard!” Lady Thaw chastises.

“I’m famished.”

“Energy deficient. Always happens with this kind of process.” The Doctor says.

“You speak as if you see this every day, Mr…” “Doctor. And, well, no, not every day, but I have some experience in this kind of transformation.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Using hypersonic sound waves to create a state of resonance. That’s… that’s inspired.” “You understand the theory, then.” “Enough to know you couldn’t possibly have allowed for all the variables.”

“No experiment is entirely without risk.” “That thing nearly exploded. You might as well have stepped into a blender.” “You’re not qualified to comment.”

“If I hadn’t of stopped it, it would’ve exploded.”

“Then I thank you, Doctor. But that’s a simple engineering issue. What happened inside the capsule was exactly what was supposed to happen. No more, no less.”

“You’ve got no way of knowing that until you’ve run the proper tests.” I tell him.

Lazarus laughs, “Look at me! You can see what happened. I’m all the proof you need.” “This device will be properly certified before we start to operate commercially.” Lady Thaw smiles.

“Commercially?! You are joking. That’ll cause chaos.” Martha laughs.

“Not chaos. Change. A chance for humanity to evolve, to improve.” “This isn’t about improving. It’s about you and your customers living a little longer.” “Not a little longer, Doctor. A lot longer. Perhaps indefinitely.”

“Richard, we have things to discuss. Upstairs.” Lady Thaw walks away.

Lazarus goes to follow her, “Goodbye, Doctor. In a few years, you’ll look back and laugh at how wrong you are.” He reaches out and takes Martha’s hand, kissing the back of it before leaving.

“Ooh, he’s out of his depth. No idea of the damage he might have done.” The Doctor groans.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask.

“Now… well, this building must be full of laboratories. I say we do our own tests.” Martha looks at her hand, “Lucky I’ve just collected a DNA sample then, isn’t it?” “Oh, Martha Jones, you’re a star.”

We end up in an empty lab, looking at the results of the DNA test on a computer screen.

“Amazing.” “What?” I ask.

“Lazarus’s DNA.” “I can’t see anything different.” Martha says.

“Look at it!” The image on the screen flickers.

“Oh, my god! Did that just change? But it can’t have!” I gasp. “But it did.”

“It’s impossible.” “And that’s two impossible things we’ve seen tonight. Don’t you love it when that happens?”

“That means Lazarus has changed his own molecular patterns.” Martha says. “Hypersonic sound waves to destabilize the cell structure then a mutagenic program to manipulate the coding in the protein strands. Basically, he hacked into his own genes and instructed them to rejuvenate.” He explains. “But they’re still mutating now.” I realize.

“‘Cause he missed something. Something in his DNA has been activated and won’t let him stabilize. Something that’s trying to change him.” “Change him into what?” I ask. “I dunno, but I think we need to find out.” “That woman said they were going upstairs.”

“Let’s go!”

We step out of the lift and into Lazarus’s office. The Doctor turns on the lights.

“This is his office, all right.” I say. “So, where is he?” The Doctor asks.

“Dunno. Let’s try back at the re…ception.” Sticking out from behind the desk, I spot a pair of skeletal bones, wearing high heels. We rush over to see the desiccated remains of a woman.

“Is that Lady Thaw?” Martha asks. “Used to be. Now it’s just a shell. Had all the life energy drained out. Like squeezing the juice out of an orange.”

“Lazarus.” “Could be.” “So he’s changed already?” I ask. “Not necessarily. You saw the DNA. it was fluctuating. The process must demand energy. This might not have been enough.” “So he might do this again?” Martha asks.

“Hmm.”

We dash back to the lifts.

We arrive back at reception.

“I can’t see him.” “He can’t be far. Keep looking.” The Doctor walks off. “Hey, you all right, Martha? I think mum wants to talk to you.” “Have you seen Lazarus anywhere?” Martha asks.

“Yeah. He was getting cozy with Tish a couple of minutes ago.” The Doctor joins us moments later. “With Tish?!” “Ah, Abby.” “Where did they go?” “Upstairs I think, why?”

“Abby…” The Doctor rushes past, spilling her drink.

I look at her apologetically, “Sorry.” I pass her a napkin before running after him.

We arrive back at Lazarus’s office. “Where are they?” The Doctor takes out his sonic screwdriver, “Fluctuating DNA will give off an energy signature. I might be able to pick it up.” he holds his sonic out at arm’s length and slowly turns in a circle. Its beeping increases.

“Got him.” “Where?”

He points at the ceiling. “But this is the top floor! The roof!”

We run for the stairs.

“‘Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act…” “Falls the shadow.’”

Lazarus turns to see us.

“So the mysterious Doctor knows his Eliot. I’m impressed.” “Martha, what are you doing here?”

“Tish, get away from him.” “What? Don’t tell me what to do.” “I wouldn’t have thought you had time for poetry, Lazarus, what with you being busy defying the laws of nature and all.” “You’re right, Doctor. One lifetime’s been too short for me to do everything I’d like. How much more would I get done in two or three or four?”

“Doesn’t work like that.” I shake my head, “Some people live more in 20 years than others do in 80. It’s not the time that matters; it’s the person.” “But if it’s the right person, what a gift that would be.”

“Or what a curse. Look at what you’ve done to yourself.”

“Who are you to judge me?”

“Tish, come here.” I ask. She walks over to us, “You have to spoil everything, don’t you? Every time I find someone nice, you have to go and find a fault.” “Tish, he’s a monster!” Martha says. “I know the age thing’s a bit freaky, but it works for Catherine Zeta-Jones.”

At the sound of growling, Tish slowly turns her head and we all see Lazarus.

He looks like a cross between a human skeleton and a scorpion. He rears up.

“Run!”

We all race inside and the Doctor seals the lock with his sonic screwdriver. Martha presses the call button for the lift, “You okay?” “I was gonna snog him.”

Sirens begin to go off and a computerized warning comes over the PA.

“What’s happening?” I ask. “Uh, an intrusion. It triggers a security lockdown. Kills most of the power. Stops the lifts. Seals the exits.” “Great, he must be breaking through the door. Now, stairs anyone?” We all run down the stairs.

There’s a crashing noise, “He’s inside!”

“Haven’t got much time!”

We enter the reception.

“Tish! Is there another way out of here?”

“There’s an exit in the corner, but it’ll be locked now.”

The Doctor tosses his sonic to me, “Setting 54. Hurry.”

I rush off, followed by Martha and Tish.

Glass shatters and Lazarus appears on the landing above before leaping down to the reception floor.

I open the door just as everyone runs for the exits.

“Over here! This way! Everyone downstairs now! Hurry!” We run over to Leo.

“Martha.” “C’mon, stay with me.” Martha and I take her mother and Leo to safety.

“What’s the Doctor doing?” Tish asks.

“He’s buying us time.” I say. Martha examines her brother, “Leo, look at me. Let me see your eyes.” She speak to her mother, “He’s got a concussion, you’ll need to help him downstairs.” She goes to an ice bucket and puts some ice in a napkin, which she then gives to her mother, “This’ll keep the swelling down. Go! I’ll be right behind you! Tish, move! We need to get out of here!”

The partygoers are running down the stairs to the main entrance but the doors are locked.

“We can’t get out! We’re trapped!”

I spot a desk and slide over the top and check the panel layout before using the sonic. The power comes back on, the doors open and everyone escapes.

I run back up the stairs.

I stop in my tracks at the sound of an explosion, Martha joining me shortly after, running into the Doctor as we reach a corner.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“Returning this.” I hold out his sonic screwdriver, “Thought you might need it.” “How did you…?” “Explosion? Definitely you.” “I blasted Lazarus.” “Did you kill him?” Martha asks.

Lazarus comes crashing down the hall.

“More sort of annoyed him, I’d say.”

We run around and end up back in the reception room.

“What now? We’ve just gone ‘round in a circle!” Lazarus bursts in and the Doctor heads for the device.

“We can’t lead him outside. Come on, get in.” We all hide in the device where we are pressed together like sardines.

“Are we hiding?” Martha asks.

“No, he knows we’re here. But this is his masterpiece. I’m betting he won’t destroy it, not even to get at us.” “But we’re trapped!”

“Well, yeah, that’s a slight problem.” “You mean you don’t have a plan?” “Yes, the plan was to get inside here!”

“Then what?” “Well… Then I’d come up with another plan.”

“In your own time, then.” The Doctor accidentally gropes me before grabbing his sonic screwdriver, “Here we are.” “What’re you gonna do with that?”

The Doctor slides down slowly to the floor and pops open a panel, “Improvise.” “I still don’t understand where that thing came from. Is it alien?” “No, for once it’s strictly human in origin.” He uses his sonic screwdriver on the wires attached to the panel.

“Human? How can it be human?” I ask. “Probably from dormant genes in Lazarus’s DNA. The energy field in this thing must have reactivated them. And it looks like they’re becoming dominant.” “So, it’s a throwback.” “So it’s some option that evolution rejected for us millions of years ago, but the potential is still there? Locked away in our genes, until Lazarus unlocked it by mistake?” I ask. The Doctor continues to work on the wires. “It’s like Pandora’s box.” Martha says.

“Exactly. Nice shoes, by the way.” A blue light fills the capsule.

“Doctor, did he just turn it on?” I ask.

“Yep.” The machine begins to spin. “I don’t want to hurry you, but…” Martha worries.

“I know, I know. Nearly done.” “What’re you doing?”

“Trying to set the capsule to reflect energy rather than receive it.” “Will that kill him?” I ask.

“When he transforms, he’s three times his size, cellular triplication, so he’s spreading himself thin.” “We’re gonna end up like him!” “Just one more!” The Doctor pulls a wire.

The Doctor opens the door and steps out, Martha and I right behind him.

“I thought we were gonna go through the blender then.” Martha admits. “Really shouldn’t take that long to reverse the polarity. I must be a bit out of practice.”

Lazarus is lying in his human form, naked, on the floor.

“Oh God. He seems so… human again. It’s kind of pitiful.”

“Eliot saw that, too. ‘This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but with a whimper.’”

Medical services, come to take the body, carrying it out on a gurney in a bag. We watch from the steps.

The first to see us is Tish, “She’s here. Oh, she’s all right.” She hugs Martha. Martha’s mum slaps the Doctor on the face, “Keep away from my daughter.” “Mum! What are you doing?” The Doctor puts his hand on his cheek, “All their mothers, every time.” “Not mine. Though to be fair, I don’t want you meeting her at all.”

“He is dangerous! I’ve been told things.” “What are you talking about?”

Mrs. Jones takes Martha by the shoulders, “Look around you! Nothing but death and destruction!”

“This isn’t his fault. He saved us, all of us!”

“It was Tish who invited everyone to this in the first place. I’d say technically, it’s her fault.” Tish elbows Leo in the side.

There’s a crash. The Doctor and I look at Martha before running off.

We run down the street where we see the ambulance, the doors open and the medics merely husks.

“Lazarus, back from the dead. Should’ve known, really.” The Doctor takes out his sonic screwdriver and searches for Lazarus like he did earlier. “Where’s he gone?” I ask.

“That way. The church.” “Cathedral. It’s Southwark Cathedral. He told me.” Tish informs us.

We proceed up the nave inside the cathedral, the Doctor in the very front with his sonic held out in front of him.

“Do you think he’s in here?” Martha asks. “Where would you go if you were looking for sanctuary?” I retort.

We move forward through the empty cathedral to the open space behind the altar and underneath the bell tower.

Lazarus is sitting there, gasping, a red blanket from the ambulance wrapped around him, “I came here before. A lifetime ago. I thought I was going to die then. In fact, I was sure of it. I sat there, just a child… the sound of planes and bombs outside.” “The Blitz.” “You’ve read about it.” “I was there.” “You’re too young.” Lazarus scoffs.

“So are you.” Lazarus laughs, but it soon turns to gasps of pain as he fights the mutation, “In the morning, the fires had died, and I was still alive. I swore I’d never face death like that again.”

The Doctor walks around Lazarus slowly, looking up at the bell tower.

I watch, knowing he’s planning something.

“So defenseless. I would arm myself, fight back, defeat it.”

“That’s what you were trying to do today.” “That’s what I did do today.”

“What about the other people who died?”

“They were nothing. I changed the course of history.” “Any of them might have done, too. You think history’s only made with equations? Facing death is a part of being human. You can’t change that.” “No, Doctor. Avoiding death. That’s being human. It’s our strongest impulse, to cling to life with every fiber of being. I’m doing what everyone before me has tried to do. I’ve simply been more… successful.” Lazarus groans in pain as his body tries to change. “Look at yourself! You’re mutating! You’ve no control over it! You call that a success?”

“I call it progress. I’m more now than I was. More than just an ordinary man.” “There’s no such thing as an ordinary man.”

“He’s gonna change again at any minute.” I whisper.

“I know. If I can get him up into the bell tower somehow, I’ve an idea that might work.”

“Up there?” I ask.

He nods.

“You’re so sentimental, Doctor. Maybe you are older than you look.”

“I’m old enough to know that a longer life isn’t always a better one. In the end, you just get tired. Tired of the struggle. Tired of losing everyone that matters to you. Tired of watching everything turn to dust.” The Doctor squats beside Lazarus, “If you live long enough, Lazarus, the only certainty left is that you end up alone.”

“That’s a price worth paying.” “Is it?”

“I will feed soon.” “I’m not gonna let that happen.”

“You’ve not been able to stop me so far.” I walk up behind Lazarus, “Leave him, Lazarus! He’s old and bitter. Thought you had a taste for fresher meat.” He snarls and chases after me.

Martha and Tish run with me.

“Doctor! The tower!”

We run up the narrow spiral staircase that leads to the upper level.

We hear screaming.

“Did you hear that?” Tish asks.

“He’s changed again. We’ve got to lead him up.” “Abby?!” I peer out of one of the archways on the upper level, “Doctor!” “Take him to the top, the very top of the bell tower, d’you hear me?!” I nod, “Then what?” “Abby, come on!” Tish grabs my arm.

We run off.

We arrive at the top of the bell tower, which is a circular walkway with wooden rails.

“There’s nowhere to go! We’re trapped!” Tish exclaims.

“This is where he said to bring him.” I say. “All right, so we’re not trapped. We’re bait.”

“He knows what he’s doing. We have to trust him.” Martha tells her.

We hear a hiss, “Ladies.” Lazarus enters, blocking the only doorway.

“Stay behind me. If he takes me, make a run for it. Head down the stairs, you should have enough time.” I tell them.

“But…” Martha attempts to protest.

“Just do it!”

Lazarus attacks, swinging his tail down.

We all scream.

Lazarus knocks away part of the wall.

I get hit by his tail and fall over, clinging to the edge.

“Abby!”

Lazarus leaps across to stand over me. “Hold on! Get away from her!” Martha screams. Tish and Martha hold their heads in agony as the sound waves from the organ resonate in the tight space. Lazarus begins to writhe.

I try to hold on. Lazarus topples over the edge and falls to the floor below.

I’m about to fall when hands grab my arms.

“We’ve got you. Hold on!” “Abby?!”

The two sisters pull me back onto the walkway.

“I’m okay! We’re all okay!” I cry, hugging them, “Thank you.” “It’s your Doctor you should be thanking.” “Told you he’d think of something.” I sniffle.

“He cut it a bit fine there, didn’t he?” “He always does. It’s more fun that way.” I laugh.

We come down the stairs.

The Doctor runs to us and pulls me into a kiss, “Never do that again.”

Tish seems confused, “I thought—” She looks to her sister.

Martha shakes her head.

We stand in front of the Tardis in Martha’s flat.

“Something else that just kinda escalated, then.”

“I can see a pattern developing. You should take more care in the future. And the past, and whatever other time period you find yourself in.” Martha smiles.

“It’s good fun, though, isn’t it?” I grin. “Yeah.”

“So, what d’you say, one more trip?” The Doctor asks.

“No. sorry.”

“What do you mean? I thought you liked it.”

“I do, but I can’t go on like this. ‘One more trip.’ It’s not fair.”

“What’re you talking about?” “I don’t want to just be a passenger anymore. Someone you take along for a treat. If that’s how you still see me, well, I’d rather stay here.”

“Okay, then. If that’s what you want.” “Right. But we’ve already said goodbye once today, so it’s really best if you just go.” She walks away from the Tardis, keeping her back to it.

I laugh, “Martha, sweetie. He said okay.” “Sorry?”

I nod my head at the Tardis.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Martha hugs us and laughs.

“Well, you were never really just a passenger, were you?”

#tenth doctor x oc #tenth doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #autistic writer #chrysalis story #autistic!reader #doctor who x oc

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sev-on-kamino · 2 years ago

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30 Days of Blossoming Romance (4)

Day 4: First conversation alone (prompt list here)

Hardcase x afab!reader, who’s a mechanic (first time writing Hardcase and a non-medic reader, so be easy on me)

Warnings: none, it’s fluffy stuff with a sprinkle of flirting

Word count: 1007

You loved your job. You'd always been fascinated by how things work, and anything that flew was your favorite. You knew how every single fighter, carrier, shuttle, gunship, and Venator in the GAR worked. And when they didn't work? Well, that's when you got to shine. They didn't work frequently because there were hotshot pilots zipping about putting your poor fleet through its paces every chance they got. The pilots of the 501st were great, but they were still flyboys to their core, and didn't even realize (no matter how much you yelled) that their antics made more work for you. You were stuck in the hangar of the Resolute now while everyone else left to enjoy their leave on Coruscant. Your mind drifted to the cute blue dress you'd picked up to wear to 79's. It was going to be the first time you and Hardcase got to spend time together since the pair of you had escalated your flirting from theoretical to practical. Your stomach flipped as you realized how many pretty girls would be angling for a trip to the barracks with one of the handsome men of the 501st. Things weren't official with Hardcase, and he was free to do what he liked, and so were you, but for the first time that freedom didn't sound so great. You settled in under the control panel of the cockpit of a shuttle that should not have needed this much attention. Someone had undoubtedly been trying to show off and burned out the forward stabilizers, the hyperdrive, and the life support system would need to be replaced completely You hit play on your radio and prepared yourself for a long night...alone. "I thought you were coming out tonight, Sparks," a voice said, scaring you right into bumping your head on the console. "Ow fuck!" you swore rubbing your head, as you slid out of the danger zone. You looked up and met Hardcase's bright eyes, and smiled despite the pain. "Sorry! I didn't see you waiting for a cab, so I came to see if you were still working. Why are you working by the way?" He rattled off quickly, as he dropped into the pilot's chair. "It's ok. I'm...really glad to see you," you said, still rubbing your head. “Oh, some asshole decided to try his hand at racing in this shuttle, and it’s all burned out. Gotta replace all the major systems.”

“And it’s gotta be done tonight, huh?” He asked, a light frown tugging at his handsome features.

You nodded, mirroring his expression. “Unfortunately. I was really looking forward to going out. Got a new dress and everything.”

He perked up at that, “You? In a dress? I’ve gotta see that. Tell me about it. What color is it? No, I’m gonna guess…it’s blue.”

“I wear dresses,” you protested, slapping him playfully with your bandana. “It’s short and tight, and it is blue. How’d you know?”

“You’re loyal to the 501st, Sparks.” That much was true, plus it had lines and shapes that reminded you of his tattoo. You had to have it once you realized.

“Got me all figured out, have you?” you challenged, laying back under the console.

“Not all the way yet, but I’m getting there.” He slid out of the chair to sit cross legged next to you on the floor. His knee rested against your thigh, and you were suddenly quite glad you were under the console, or he’d see how positively frazzled you were.

“S-so are you uh…gonna join the boys tonight?” you asked, clearing your throat.

“Nope. I was hoping to hang out with you, and that’s happening here…unless you need quiet, and I’m kriffing up your concentration?”

“No! No, this is actually what I wanted to do tonight,” your heart was dancing in your chest. “Spending time with you I mean, not fixing this shuttle.”

“This is almost as good as 79s, it’s just missing cheap booze flashing lights, and Jesse passing shots around. You’ve even got music,” he added, adjusting the volume on your radio.

“Don’t forget the dress. I didn’t plan on wearing my jumpsuit to the bar.”

“Ah, the dress. Damn. Maybe next time.”

“And you won’t have to sit on the floor,” you added with a laugh.

“Exactly, I can sit in a booth, and you can sit on my lap. What are you working on under there? Anything I can help with?”

Your mind had short circuited. Did he just casually mention having you in his lap?

“Um…I was…er…checking the housing on the…wires that,” you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t form a sentence.

“I never paid attention when we were supposed to be learning about this stuff, but I can hand you tools.”

“Tools. Yep. Those will be so helpful.” A full sentence. You were back in business.

As the night wore on, you learned that Hardcase was full of all sorts of practical knowledge. Medical things he picked up from Kix. Tactics and strategies he’d learned from Echo. Even a few things about the Jedi Order he’d discovered talking to General Skywalker. Despite asserting that he wasn’t paying attention half the time, he seemed to have absorbed things from everyone he cared about. You found yourself wondering if or how you’d contribute to his web of knowledge.

By the time you finished it was well into the wee hours of the morning, not that you could tell by looking at Hardcase. His smile was still bright, eyes alert, still asking you questions, and bouncing from topic to topic.

“We should probably eat something. You worked straight through dinner. Didn’t wanna wreck your concentration.”

“Food sounds like a dream right now. Then sleep.” You said with a massive yawn.

“You’ll need your rest, I’m absolutely taking you out tomorrow, even if I’ve gotta steal you outta the hangar.” He said steering you towards the mess hall.

“I’d like that,” you replied, smiling up at him, already counting down the hours until you could talk to him like this again.

#tcw hardcase #tcw hardcase x reader #tcw hardcase x you #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #tcw fanfic #reader insert #April showers bring May Drabbles #seven writes #blue writes #30 days challenge

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wulfums · 1 year ago

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who would wesley say she takes after more? also does she have specific terms of endearment for her dads? :3c

YESSSSS SHE DOES GIGGLES these are some of the first things I thought of when doing concept art of her

I think she Always took after Scudworth the most, though having two other dads who actually have impulse control have made her more analytical. But Scudworth has *always* been her favorite dad. When she was a baby, if she was crying, *literally* the only way she stopped is if he'd hold her.

She does love all three of her dads about equal. She actually has files on every single person she's met- she started them when she first started writing. You can tell when a note was written by the handwriting and writing utensil used.

So basically her thoughts on them each specifically are

Wulfington - She calls him "Dad." I'd say she has the most strained relationship with him- it's gotten better as she's gotten older but she finds him embarrassing. He tries extremely hard to be a good dad to her but can get very overbearing because of how hard he was trying. He could also get overprotective- but this also improved as Wesley got older too. Now, he's still the most embarrassing dad, but Wesley has come to really appreciate his emotional intelligence. He's a guidance counseler for Clone High and whenever she needs guidance in something emotional she will always go to him. She does love that he is very into gaming as well(One of her biggest hobbys) and raised her on Playstation and Nintendo. Because she always had both the Sony and Nintendo consoles, her house was always the one everyone wanted to go to. She also appreciates that Wulfington is genuinally very good at cooking. He can make *any* ingredient taste good, from roadkill to truffles. She has also gotten a lot less embarrassed by his goofy nature, so as of now they have a good relationship.

Mr B - When she was little, she used to call him "Mr Dad" but as of now she calls him "Father." He's the most normal parent out of the three of them. He actually understands that teenagers need space and time and that you gotta let them figure some things out on there own, which Wesley appreciates so much. She tells him everything, even things she wouldn't trust the other two dads with. When she was little, they used to play board games a lot, and they've continued that, getting into board games like Catan. He also was the one who introduced her to and encouraged her to get into TTRPGs and now she runs DnD nights for the other students as DM (Though, on campaigns she really wants to play in, Mr B doesn't mind filling in as DM if Frida isn't available or also wants to play and not DM.). She also thinks Mr B is very funny with his reponses to Scudworth's insane statements. If it wasn't obvious, Mr B was also the one who got to name her(They drew straws over who got to name her and he won.).

Scudworth - She calls him "Daddy."(If anyone comments ANYTHING weird about this I will eviscerate you. It's a normal thing for people to call their dads.) She takes after him the most, and because of him she got interested in science extremely early on in life. He always let her help or watch when he was doing science things because he loved that she wanted to be so involved. As I said before, Scuds has always been her favorite dad by a lot, though it's evened out more. It can be a bit awkward in high school having your dads be the principal, vp and guidance counseler but it's fine. She doesn't bring it up often but will use it as a threat for the bit. He can get extremely overprotective and overinvolved, though, so she tends to not tell him anything. One time, she offhandedly mentioned that a lot of her classmates started dating and doing relationship stuff, and Scudworth interpreted this as her feeling left out, so he kept. Setting her up on dates with the other clones(Which, since she's friendly with most of the other students, literally just were hangouts.) because he didn't want her to feel left out. When she found out that is what was happening, she was very embarrassed and upset. She rarely gets upset with him but when she is, he is DEVESTATED. If it weren't for the other two men in the relationship, he would probably just continue to make it worse by overcorrecting. Wesley still trusts him but she keeps actual secrets away from him. She loves him so much but he can be. Hard to deal with. To say the least.

She loves all three of her dads but in different ways and they all fufill different roles for her!! Thank for asking omfg

#wesley #scudwulfertron #scudwulf

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ramblinganthropologist · 11 days ago

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N7 24 3 - Humans

Summary: The translator's down. Fuck. Alistair's got a headache and settling fights among his crew due to translation errors isn't helping matters much. At least he's free to swear in his other main language now?

Man, did he have a fucking headache.

“You fix it yet or what, Al?”

Or what… was the case at the moment. Alistair sighed as he stared down at the console in front of him, eyebrow twitching. His omni-tool was currently linked into it, running a diagnostic that wasn’t getting him anywhere fast. All the data was showing nothing useful – all it did was tell him what was wrong.

He could’ve figured that one out by sticking his head out the door and listening.

Next to him, Bo shook her head. “Still nothing?”

“All it says is that the universal translator is down. I thought it could be an update, but I tried a manual boot and that didn’t work.” He frowned. “We can still use the manual mode tooled into our omni-tools, but it’s not instant like the regular one and won’t sound the same.”

Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. When the translators went down, most people could use the manual mode without issue. Some things invariably got mistranslated, but the worst that could come out of it was hurt feelings or an off color joke someone had to explain. It was usually solved within seconds, minutes at best.

Problem was, he was on a ship run by human supremacists in the middle of the Terminus system with aliens on board. It didn’t exactly work well, and that was without considering the individual languages spoken by any crew members. Just thinking about it was giving him a headache to say the least.

“Shepard, do you have any results?”

An electronic voice called from his omni-tool. Well, more electronic than usual – Tali’s suit was doing its best to work through the manual translation. He could hear her actual words layered on top, as was usually the case when the auto mode broke down.

Quarians sounded neat – kind of weird, but neat. Definitely beat the salarians out on that one…

“Oh, hi, Tali.” Alistair chose his words carefully as he spoke into his wrist. “The computer’s results didn’t return anything useful. Did your search find anything down in engineering?”

“No, it displayed the same result you sent me.” She sounded frustrated, or as frustrated as the manual mode could get – emotion was often lacking in this version, which was another reason why it wasn’t favored. “We’re going to need to reboot the whole system at this rate.”

Great – it would take two hours at the very least to cycle through, and that was without FTL messing anything up. Just thinking about it gave Alistair a headache, but no doubt the quarian was correct. He had been trying to avoid it, but it was time to throw in the towel and attempt the universal first step of anything electronic: turning it off and on again.

“I’ll access the controls from here then and start the reboot. Thanks for investigating for me.”

The line went dead after that as Tali had other work to deal with in engineering that was no doubt a thousand times more annoying now that humans surrounded her. Alistair’s heart went out to her as he returned to the console, unplugging his omni-tool from the system so it would still work. If he was in her shoes, he would’ve hated it too.

“Is that what she really sounds like without the translator?”

He glanced over his shoulder – Bo had apparently been listening in. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, he probably would’ve laughed at her expression. Normally, he was the one who emoted easily, but she had him beat in that moment.

Lovestruck was a good look on her honestly. It might be his new favorite.

“Yep. I gotta say, sounds better than Mordin did.” Alistair turned back to the console. “I do not enjoy listening to untranslated salarian in the slightest.”

Bo nudged him in the side. “Gonna see how you feel about untranslated turian when you’re done here?”

His face grew hot as he worked to queue up the reboot. “I have a lot of things to do, I’m sure he does too.”

That only made his sister chuckle. Alistair grumbled under his breath as he continued working. However, he frowned as he surveyed the screen. Cerberus made it more difficult than most to do this kind of reboot. It was like they were testing him.

“Come on, come on…” another error screen popped up, and he growled. “Go bhfaighir bás gan an sagart!”

Bo cocked her eyebrow at that. “Uh… what was that?”

He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck in response. “Irish. My parents were native speakers and made sure me and Anora took classes as kids. I kept up with it over the years because it was something my ma was big on when she was alive.”

It was one of the things he had turned his translator off for as a kid on his father’s insistence. Sometimes he still listened to the refresher lessons on long shuttle rides when he had nothing better to do and didn’t have the brain for reports. Apparently, it had stuck with him better than he thought.

“Right, so it means what, go fuck yourself?”

That caused Alistair to chuckle again as he kept working. “If I listened to my teacher right, it’s I hope you die without a priest.”

Bo shook her head. “So basically the same thing to you Catholics.”

“As someone who has died before, I would say I don’t think I would’ve done much better with a priest there to see me off.” The system dinged, and he grinned. “There we go, the reboot’s been established. Everything should be up and running within two hours.”

Two hours where hopefully nobody would get offended enough to start shooting. Just thinking about it made his head hurt, but since he was commanding officer it was his job to put the linguistic fires out.

“Hey, Shepard? You might wanna get up to the crew deck, the manual translators are causing a brawl up here.”

Joker’s voice made his shoulders drop in response. That hadn’t taken long at all… time to get his bucket of metaphorical water.

---

“That was a nightmare.”

Alistair sighed, massaging his aching temple as he stepped away from the bunk room. The brawl had nearly been a literal one due to a mistranslation, and he’d needed to act fast. It had wound up needing multiple languages, and there was just one of him to keep the translations going. At least nobody had started swinging.

Instead, he just had a headache.

Briefly, his eyes flitted towards the battery. Even though he had told Bo he wasn’t going to bother him, something was pulling him there. The great thinkers of the age might call it his libido, but he was pretty sure he didn’t have one of those.

His heart, maybe? Or maybe it was his curiosity getting the better of him. Either way, he couldn’t stop himself and started walking over. Before long, he was standing in front of the doors, knocking lightly. Most would argue he didn’t need to knock – it was his ship – but he never stood on that kind of ceremony. It was technically Garrus’ area of the ship, so it was only polite.

No doubt that made him weird, but oh well. He was used to that.

The door slid open a few seconds later, revealing the turian on the other side. He looked as though he had just woken up, judging by how bleary his eyes seemed and how his mandibles twitched. He wasn’t even properly dressed – a rarity considered how little he trusted Cerberus. Someone had been in some deep sleep; it was a miracle the knock had roused him at all.

His eyes focused soon enough, and the twitching stopped. He opened his mouth, but before Alistair could warn him about the translator he started to speak. A harsh, grating sound filled the air, with clicks and squawks that vaguely resembled the sounds from Jurassic Park. Then he fell silent, waiting for a response.

Alistair blinked in surprise. “That’s what you sound like untranslated?”

Garrus’ mandibles twitched, and he cocked his head to the side. It was only then that he remembered he hadn’t used the manual translator. Shaking his head, he motioned for the turian to follow him inside where it was quieter. At least hand signs got the point across, and soon the doors were closing behind them.

Once his… well, they didn’t really have a name for it… sat back down on his cot, Alistair queued up the manual translator. “Sorry, I didn’t get the opportunity to tell you that the auto translate is being rebooted right now.”

He winced slightly as the automatic translation rang out. Somehow, manually translated turian sounded even weirder than the actual version thanks to the electronic components. It didn’t seem pleasant for Garrus either – he grimaced.

Still, the message got across. Soon, he was lifting his omni-tool up and speaking into it, filling the air with the prehistoric sounding noises. As he waited, Alistair considered the dinosaur movies of the past – they hadn’t been too far off.

Wonder if turians could get anything out of it…

“How long is it going to take?”

The electronic translation wasn’t pleasant either, devoid of emotion or the regular voice he was so used to hearing. But it got the message across, and it was good enough for the moment. He could complain about it later.

“The countdown reported two hours about fifteen minutes ago.” He shrugged. “Maybe go back to sleep until then? I would be if I didn’t have to keep breaking up fights.”

Garrus shook his head as he took the translation in. He then lifted his omni-tool to his mouth again and spoke into it. After a few moments of squawks, the translation soon filtered out into English.

“What are you breaking? I think this translated wrong.”

Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose as he groaned. At least this was an easy fix. “Sorry, I meant to say I was making sure people didn’t kill each other over mistranslations.”

Emphasis on kill – he was glad that Jack and Miranda both spoke at least one language in common should they accidentally catch each other in the hallway. It wasn’t likely, but they were at the top of his list of fights he didn’t want to break apart. Biotics, when it came down to it, were nasty fighters – and that was without the animosity between the two women making things a thousand times worse.

“Hey, commander? Bit of a problem up-“

Alistair grit his teeth as he temporarily muted the line. “Gabh suas ort féin.”

Then he turned it back on. “Yeah, Joker, where’s the problem?”

He turned back to where Garrus was sitting, clearly still half asleep and longing to return to his dreams. Something about it was vaguely charming, but he knew he should let the turian get his rest. After the slew of missions they had been on, he needed it.

So, he raised his omni-tool to his mouth. “I have another fight to settle. Get some rest, Garrus. I’ll see you later when the auto translation is back on.”

The turian nodded, and soon he was curled up on his cot again. It brought a brief smile to Alistair’s face as he left the battery behind. There were more fires to put out, and he was apparently wearing the warden hat.

Oh, the fun that came with being commanding officer.

---

Two hours later, and a very tired Alistair sighed as he entered his quarters. His head was throbbing from having to play diplomat with his own crew, but the worst was finally over. His omni-tool beeped, letting him know that auto translation was back on.

“Thank the Lord…” He slumped in his desk chair, massaging his temples. “I thought WW3 was going to break out down there. Note to self, suggest language modules for FTL travel in case this happens again.”

He very much doubted anyone was going to actually do it, mind you. That sort of thing was for nerds like him trying to keep a small language alive. Still, a little bit every so often wouldn’t kill them… it definitely wouldn’t hurt him any.

Alistair mulled it over for a moment before he was distracted by the dinging of the door. He peered over his shoulder, heart skipping a beat as Garrus appeared. At least this time he was wide awake and had his jumpsuit in order.

“Have a nice nap?”

“It was nice and quiet. Gotta love those thick doors.” The turian cocked his head to the side. “You look like hell, though. How many fires did you have to put out?”

He chuckled softly as he got up from his desk to meet him at the door. “I lost count after a while.”

It took going on tiptoe, but he managed to plant a brief kiss on Garrus’ scarred mandible. For a second, he worried he had misjudged things between them, given how his eyes narrowed. But then the turian put their foreheads together for a few seconds before withdrawing.

“You looked exhausted already when we spoke.”

Exhausted was putting it mildly – Alistair was run down. After all the missions and paperwork, adding the translation error was just another piece of the puzzle from hell. At least one thing was fixed for the moment.

“Yeah, pretty close.” He smiled. “Though, it was worth it to hear what you actually sound like. I dig the raptor noises, Garrus, I really do.”

That made the turian snicker. “I’m not a dinosaur, Shepard.”

“Sounded like one from where I was standing. Not that it’s a bad thing, I always liked Jurassic Park as a kid.” Alistair chuckled as he threaded his fingers between Garrus’ talons. It was an odd stretch, but he was getting used to it. “Hopefully I didn’t sound too bad to you.”

The fact Garrus seemed to think about it made his stomach flop. He had enough hangups about his voice when humans heard it, the last thing he needed to hear was how he sounded to other species. It was one of his recurring nightmares, and now it was coming true.

“It was… interesting. You’re a lot higher pitched than I expected.”

Fucking oww…

Alistair felt his cheeks color. “Yeah, I uh… I get that a lot.”

“No, humans in general are higher. The translator usually puts you more at like a chirping quality-“ Garrus trailed off. “Which I figure is not making you feel any better about this. They used to say I chirped when I first started on hormone therapy…”

Oh, great. Alistair fought back a groan upon the realization that he came off as a teenager to not only his own species, but others. No wonder it was hard to get other aliens to take him seriously. Was there a way he could patch that?

No, probably not…

“New level of dysphoria unlocked. Hooray.” His voice came out flat as he cocked an eyebrow. “Guess it’s better I know now so I know what I’m working with. At least it explains why they kept snickering when I was on Tuchanka.”

Garrus shook his head. “Untranslated krogan isn’t much better. They sound like they’re croaking out orders to me.”

Well, at least he could be content knowing that his krogans were space toads theory was gaining traction with some real evidence. That wasn’t going to solve his new case of vocal dysphoria, but at least he could score a point with Bo.

“Good to know I was right about something.” He managed to smile weakly. “At least I hope I didn’t sound too bad when I’m not chirping at you.”

Garrus squeezed his hand gently. “No, I liked hearing your actual voice. It sounds kind of musical. What did you say when you cut the line, though? The translator didn’t pick it up at all.”

That made Alistair chuckle as he thought back. “Oh, right. I basically said go fuck yourself in Irish. I was kind of fed up.”

“Irish… my omni-tool doesn’t have a translation patch for that one.”

Yeah, he wouldn’t really expect a turian to have that one loaded up. The human varieties were better at it, but most times it still needed to be manually added. He had done it for Bo’s translator, but that was the extent.

“It’s a smaller language, so I don’t think there’s an Irish-Turian dictionary laying about anywhere.” He cocked his head to the side. “Forgive me for not knowing the proper name, by the way. It just says turian when I click on my translator app, but I assume it’s just using the most common dialect.”

Now he had even more questions. Palaven definitely had to have more than one language, given it was the size of Earth. Even if it didn’t, the turian colonies most likely weren’t speaking the primarch’s turian in their day to day lives. It was actually kind of fun to think about – though it probably wasn’t the most practical.

Sometimes his mind wandered like that.

“Turian works for now, it's the main language of Palaven and I don't think the auto-translator would carry it over.” Garrus nodded. “If this keeps up, though, we might need to put one together. You know… just in case.”

Just in case? The words hummed with possibility, and made Alistair’s heart skip a beat. Once, when he had been a kid, he had tried to teach his crush a few words. It hadn’t gone over well, but… the thought had been there.

“You want to learn?”

The turian squeezed his hand. “At least so I know when you’re telling someone to go fuck themselves. It sounded interesting compared to how you normally say it.”

That made Alistair chuckle as he squeezed back, heart still beating fast. “Oh, believe me, there are plenty of ways to say that. I’ll have to give you a run down sometime. Maybe you could do the same for turian for me.”

After all, if they were thinking that far ahead… maybe he should learn a few turian swear words too. Just in case he had to watch for them from… say… a child’s mouth? Even thinking about it made his heart race.

He knew he was getting ahead of himself, of course. They weren’t even really dating yet. But it was rare he felt like this, and even more unlikely that someone actually returned his feelings. So, maybe he could allow himself some flights of fancy once in a blue moon.

“I think I can do that.” Garrus nudged him towards the bed. “Now, since you’re free from putting out fires, maybe it’s time for you to get some rest before we’re thrown into another mission from hell.”

Alistair groaned playfully as he nudged the turian in the side. “Is that an order, Vakarian?”

“Just a suggestion, Shepard. You deserve some sleep after making sure your own men don’t kill each other.”

That he did. But as much as he knew he needed sleep, part of him wanted to stay up and talk to the turian some more. His mind was still buzzing with thoughts of his language and what it sounded like without a translator in the way.

He had been honest when he said he liked the sound. It was something he could definitely get used to…

But he could think about that later. First things first… time to get out of his binder and packer and get ready for bed. With any luck, they wouldn’t wake him up until it was time for his next round of galaxy saving.

#Alistair Shepard #Bo Peep Shepard #ramblinganthropologist's writing #N7 2024 #Alistair was raised in a bilingual household #His father made sure of that even after his mother died

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starmoon-constellation · 1 year ago

Text

REVAMP OF ALTOR HOUSE

Author's Note: We decided to do a fair bit of editing, so we're reposting the story!! We will be taking down the AO3 and previous chapters and reposting to AO3 on a brand-new fic! WARNINGS: this fic explores plurality as a whole and deals specifically with a mixed-origins plural system. If this isn't your cup of tea, don't read, as this wasn't made for you. Thanks!!

Author's Note #2: If you'd like to get tagged for updates to this series, ask in the comments and I'll create a taglist!!

CHAPTER ONE: FICTIONAL WORLD Word Count: 2,196 words Summary: Rogue Syn talks about her life before the system

Raven strolled into the console room, giving Asmodeus a grin as the demonoid stood from the pilot’s chair.

“Hey. Anything bad happen?” Raven asked, and Asmodeus scrunched zyr nose slightly.

“Kind of? I mean, I gotta a little pissed because I couldn’t get the goddamn navigation bar on the Neocities to work. Maybe you can figure it out, though.” Asmodeus said, throwing down the headset ze’d been wearing a few moments prior. Ze roughly shoved zyr hair out of zyr eyes, causing Raven to smile softly. Asmodeus was never really one for having hair in zyr face, but zyr hair was so long it was constantly draping down in front of them.

Asmodeus moved out of Raven’s way, letting the elf sit down in the pilot’s chair.

“Oh, I also gave the vessel a gummy.” Asmodeus said, and Raven nodded, watching as the control panel shifted from a charcoal grey to her signature royal purple, signifying that control had officially switched to her.

“I can tell.” Raven said lightly as controls began to light up, some green and the rest red. A fair bit of the control panel was green, more than when the vessel wasn’t under the influence of a THC gummy, causing Raven to grin to herself. Perhaps she could learn more about the constellation tonight. “What led to the gummy?”

“Pain.” Asmodeus said with a shrug. “We went on a decent walk today, and acquired another blister on the ball of the left foot.” Raven nodded again as she slid the headset on. None of them were good at handling pain.

“Alright.” The elf said cheerily, causing Asmodeus to chuckle. “Feel free to head off, Asmo. Your shift is over.”

The demonoid nodded, turning to walk out of the console room.

“Stay safe, kiddo.” Ze said before heading out of the room. Raven grinned, shaking her head. She wasn’t a kid, not any more, but it was alright. She didn’t mind the nickname from Asmodeus.

Raven grabbed a hold of the hand controls, easily guiding the vessel to keep looking at the computer screen, her eyes scanning over messages. Looked like Asmodeus had asked a question about originals having exo-memories and lore, as the constellation called it. Not that it was wrong to ask questions, it just Raven an idea of what to look for while on her shift.

She began reading over the messages, eyes scanning over a single message a couple times to make sure she got the message into the memory system.

They ‘named’ their source even if it’s technically the brain.

Raven nodded to herself, mind mulling over the message. So, non-introject members could have a “source”. Sure, it wasn’t as common as introjects, but it was possible. That would explain why so many of them had lore, especially when you added in the fact that they all had overactive imaginations.

The elf looked up when she heard the door to the console room open, nodding as she saw Pyre step into the room. The vampire was unusually stoic, as if she was just doing her job right now.

“Whatcha up to?” Raven asked, her tone light and Pyre lifted a single shoulder as she sat down in the co-pilot’s seat.

“Asmodeus told me that ze gave the vessel a gummy. I just want to keep an eye on things.” Pyre said quietly, her voice stiff as she said Asmodeus’ name. Raven nodded, looking back up at the screen that showed the stream of the Outerworld.

“Still upset with zem?” Raven asked and Pyre pursed her lips tightly.

“I don’t want to discuss it.” The vampire snapped and Raven shrugged.

“Your grave to dig.” She said quietly, not looking at Pyre. “But you gotta remember that you two share a body… and a brain. Asmo knows that you’re angry at zem. Zyr trying to make up for it.”

“I said I don’t want to discuss it.” Pyre snarled and Raven nodded.

“Suit yourself.” The elf muttered, earning herself a glare from the other woman. “Am I still on probation?”

Pyre sighed, giving another shrug.

“Somewhat. Honestly, I’m just curious to see how you handle different situations. I’m not going to blacklist you… not that I did originally. That was the Monkey Brain being an ass to you.” Pyre explained and Raven nodded.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a humanoid entered, wings tucked tight against their back.

“Hey!” The humanoid said cheerfully, and Raven smiled, turning her head to look at the new entity.

“Heya, Rogue Syn!” Raven said, a broad smile on her face. The other being emanated a happy aura, making Raven grin wider. “What’s up? It’s not your shift right now.”

“Oh I know.” Rogue Syn said. “I got a notification on my scanner that an important memory had been catalogued. I was curious, so I checked it out.”

Raven tilted her head, unsure where exactly this was going.

“I was wondering if maybe I could create my source in this world? I don’t remember much about it any more, but I’d like to preserve what knowledge I do remember.” Rogue Syn finished, and Raven nodded thoughtfully.

“Whadd’ya think, Pye?” Raven asked curiously, and Pyre nodded once.

“It’s a good idea, in my opinion. It can possibly help us understand the constellation a bit more.” Pyre said quietly and Raven nodded.

“Alright!” She said cheerfully, before turning back to Rogue Syn. “Would you like to work on it now?”

The humanoid nodded hesitantly and Raven grinned, gesturing towards the second co-pilot’s seat.

Rogue Syn slowly walked over to the seat, and stood beside it, clearly trying to figure out how to sit in the chair, seeing as it had a high back, which would definitely crush her wings painfully.

Raven realised what the issue was, and looked at Pyre hopefully. The vampire stood gracefully, nodding at Rogue Syn.

“Give me one second, I’ll go get a chair you can sit in out of the hardware closet.” Pyre said softly. The hardware closet was the “monkey brain”, as the constellation called it, referring to base instincts and behaviours that none of them could edit. It also supplied the constellation with whatever it needed within the innerworld.

Rogue Syn stood nervously, her wings flexing on her back. It was clear she was nervous and Raven let go of the controls of the vessel so she could face Rogue Syn.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Raven said softly, and Rogue Syn looked at the elf with a guilty expression.

“Is it that obvious?” Rogue Syn asked and Raven smiled softly, nodding.

“But that’s okay. It’s good to be able to feel.” Raven comforted, making Rogue Syn smile slightly.

“Thank you.” She whispered as Pyre returned, holding a bar stool.

“Here ya go, Ro.” Pyre said kindly, handing the stool to Rogue Syn. Raven smiled to herself, happy that Pyre seemed to be on good terms with Rogue Syn. The vampire didn’t get along with that many in the constellation, for a variety of reasons.

Rogue Syn smiled hesitantly, taking the stool and setting it next to the secondary co-pilot chair. She slowly sat down, tucking her legs under the stool, her wings flexing slightly as she adjusted, the appendages keeping her from toppling off the stool.

“Y’know, I’mma talk to Asmo and see if ze can design a chair that’d let you have a back without messing with your wings.” Raven announced and Rogue Syn smiled.

“That would be nice.” The humanoid whispered and Raven smiled.

“I’ll ask zem next time I see zem.” Raven confirmed, and Rogue Syn nodded. “Now… do you remember the name of your home planet?”

Rogue Syn thought for a moment, before shaking her head.

“I know the sector of space it inhabited was called the Spartan Sector. It was quite similar to your space sector.” Rogue Syn finally said, and Raven nodded as she guided the vessel into pulling up a new word file on the computer.

“I see, I see.” Raven said, her tone kind. “Well, let’s get that written down. Do you remember the name of your species?”

Again Rogue Syn shook her head.

“I think it started with an ‘m’ or ‘w’, though.” She said helpfully and Raven nodded, grinning.

“Alright! We can search up some terms later to see if anything seems close or right.” Raven explained and Rogue Syn nodded.

“What about wildlife?”

Rogue Syn thought for a moment.

“We had the little demon creatures you have.” Rogue Syn said, and Raven tilted her head.

“Cats or dogs?”

Rogue Syn hesitated.

“The smaller ones. The ones that always land upright.” She finally said, her voice filled with doubt. “They had wings horns though.”

Raven nodded, jotting everything down onto the document in the outerworld.

“What else do you remember?” Raven asked curiously, and Rogue Syn let out a shaky sigh.

“My species was the dominant one, like how humans are the dominant species here.” She started. “We weren’t as advanced as humans – we hadn’t achieved electricity, but we could still travel through space, due to our biology.”

Raven tilted her head, and Rogue Syn grinned.

“We don’t need to breathe as often as humans. We only need a breath every couple of hours. We would just carry a small tank of carbon and inhale a single breath whenever we needed to. My kind would travel the stars with our wings, and I remember we had several colonies on other planets. I lived on a planet we’d adapted to host us, rather than our home planet.” Rogue Syn explained and Raven nodded, still guiding the vessel to type everything out onto the document. “The planet I was on was about the 13th planet we’d colonised, and it was a very mountainous planet, with mountains who’s peaks almost breached the atmosphere itself.”

Raven sucked in a breath and Rogue Syn grinned.

“It was a beautiful place.” The humanoid said softly. “I lived on one of the lower peaks, in a nest I’d built myself. I had a mate, the equivalent of your male sex, who had helped me produce an egg. His name was Lysander and he was… he was perfect for me.”

“You miss him.” Raven whispered, her tone making it a statement rather than a question. Rogue Syn nodded.

“I miss him dearly. But, I’m here now, so I will do my best to live in the present, rather than residing in the past.” Rogue Syn said with a note of sadness in her voice. “I remember distinctly I was holding my hatchling when I blinked, and I was here, in this body. I was confused, but with the help of Shade, I was able to understand what had happened. I had fallen through time, through the fabric of my reality, and ended up in this one.”

Raven nodded, still typing furiously. Rogue Syn let out another shaky breath, and slowly leaned forward, wings opening and flaring outwards to keep her balanced.

“I… I named her Althea.” Rogue Syn whispered, and Raven let go of the controls to the vessel, turning to face her body-mate.

“Hey, do you wanna stop for tonight?” Raven asked quietly, and Rogue Syn looked up at her, eyes filled with tears, and nodded. “Alright. We can keep talking about this another time, okay? Go back to your island, try to relax, okay?”

Rogue Syn nodded, slowly standing and starting towards the door. She stopped halfway there, turning back towards Raven.

“Could I…” Rogue Syn whispered, holding her arms up like she was imitating a hug.

“You want a hug?” Raven asked to confirm what she was seeing and Rogue Syn nodded. Raven immediately stood, walking over to the humanoid and hugging her fiercely, squeezing the other femme slightly. “We’ve got you, honey. You’ve got a family here too.”

Rogue Syn hiccuped, sniffling as she buried her face into Raven’s shoulder for a moment.

“Thank you.” The humanoid finally whispered as she pulled away. “I’m… I’m gonna go try to get myself together.”

Raven nodded, releasing the other entity.

“It’s okay to mourn, y’know.” Raven reminded Rogue Syn, who nodded and left the room. Raven turned to walk back towards the console, only to find Pyre looking at her with a weird expression. “What?”

“You’ve grown… a lot.” Pyre said quietly. “I think I’m gonna go get some sleep.”

Raven smiled slightly. Did this mean Pyre trusted her?

“I’m not going to supervise you 24/7 anymore.” Pyre said as she stood. “But I’d still like to co-front with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not!” Raven said happily, feeling the urge to hug Pyre but holding back. The vampire didn’t appreciate physical contact, unless it was violent, at which point she could release her anger in the best way for her.

Pyre smiled slightly, nodding.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, and Raven grinned at her. She was just happy the two of them got along again. “Keep the vessel safe.”

“I will!” Raven said cheerfully and Pyre nodded before exiting the room. Raven returned to the console, settling in for a long, uneventful night. At least she’d had a good time with her sysmates.

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turtshell · 1 year ago

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i have a few (though likely you've already seen them recommended)

Collector - Flynne (my personal favourite 03 fic!)

When Leonardo is abducted on his way home from babysitting Shadow, his family is left without a clue as to who could have taken him, or where he might be. Tested in body and spirit, chances for Leo's survival look bleak. But the turtles have made friends and allies over the years, and help comes from an unexpected source, giving them the chance to try and rescue their brother before it's too late.

And Call Me in the Morning - slipstream

It’s not like Don is doing this for fun, he reminds himself as the olive-skinned turtle makes up four fresh syringes and starts measuring out doses. He’s his doctor and his brother, he only has Mikey’s best interest at—

He blinks, eyes suddenly fixed on the band of cloth fixed tight to Don’s upper thigh. “Dude, what’s wrong with your leg?”

The Nothing - T33la

Everything is fine for Leo and his brothers. Things are really normal. And then, one day, things are not normal at all. Or, rather, they're normal for everyone else, but Leo knows that, piece by piece, reality is going missing.

-------------------------------------------------

Leo mashed the heels of his hands against his eyes and leaned his head into the old rat’s shoulder. He struggled to control his breath as a wave of fear crashed into him. What was wrong with him? What was happening to him?

Splinter wrapped his arms around Leonardo, holding his son and whispering consoling words. “It will be alright, young one. There is nothing to fear.”

But Leonardo could hear the thread of doubt in his father’s voice.

Promises, Promises - LunaD

There was a stillness in the air, a thick atmosphere of uncertainty choking out any other thoughts other than the singular question plaguing each brother. Where the shell was Don?

When Donatello goes missing, his brothers set out to search for him, unaware that they are racing against the clock for their brother's life.

The Afterward - halogalopaghost

Donnie's family have managed to get a cure for his double-mutation brought on by Bishop's outbreak virus, but he isn't out of the woods yet. The detransformation process is stalling, and now it's all the boys can do to keep Donatello alive long enough to figure out why.

Champion - ceraxxxx

They gotta be here somewhere. They have to be, they wouldn't miss this.

As the final of the Battle Nexus Tournament approaches, Mikey wants nothing more than to see his family in the audience, cheering him on towards what might be the single greatest moment of his life.

So what happens when he realizes that no one's there?

Based on the 'Big Brawl'-arc.

Underdark - Nekotsuki

(i almost hesitate to add this because i think it's on every rec list and everyone has read it but just in case-)

He’s hanging upside down in the middle of the great underdark, weighed down by a half hysterical turtle in the middle of a bunch of pipes and water and rock that are conspiring to kill us both off, and Leo still manages to sound like he Has A Plan.

I'm looking for some really good Hurt/Comfort, maybe a little angst, TMNT 2003 stories! Does anyone have suggestions for me?

(Any tcest suggestions can and will be ignored)

#i have a lot more oneshots that i can recommend that are mostly under 5k words #this is a fair mix of length and character focus #although its light on the raph centric fics unfortunately #lemme know if you ever want more #fic rec #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #these are all platonic only also! only family shit here

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viking-raider · 4 years ago

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Southern Generation - Part VI

Summary: Sy officially moves in with Lily and they go on a road trip to make amends.

Pairing: Austin Syverson/OFC (Lily)

Word Count: 11,965

Warning: PG-13 - Language, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Oral - F Receiving, Drama, Pregnancy Cravings

Inspiration: Syverson is OP

Author's Note: Thanks to the wonderful @wondersofdreaming

Author's Note 2: Make sure to follow and turn on the notifications for my Tag List blog @viking-raider-taglist to stay up to date on this and all my other stories!

“That's the last of them.” Sy smiled, setting the last box of his stuff down.

With Lily pregnant and them making their relationship official, Sy moved all of his stuff from his Austin apartment into the farmhouse with Lily.

“Well, officially.” Lily replied, resting her hands on her hips and looking up at him. “Welcome home.” She smiled, giddy and proud.

“Thanks, Darling.” He grinned back, cupping her face and kissed her.

Lily smiled, as she woke up from her nap, feeling the warm and heavy weight of Sy's body in bed with her, his head in its customary place, on her chest. She usually woke up from her naps with Sy, whether or not he was with her, when she fell asleep or not. Sighing and moaning softly, she lifted her hand to twist the short, curling ends of his hair between her fingertips.

“Hm.” Sy hummed softly, rubbing his scruffy face against her chest and hugging his arms tighter around her middle, thumb stroking her tummy.

“I'm surprised at you.” Lily whispered, still playing with his hair.

“Why?” Sy moaned back, turning his head to look up at her.

“When I first met you, I half wondered what your hair would look like if you let it grow out.” She explained, running her fingers through it.

“Oh?” He chuckled, smirking at her.

“Yeah.” She blushed at him. “But, I just didn't expect the Bear, Austin Syverson, would have curls.” She grinned at him, twisting the ends of his hair between her fingers, she loved his developing curls.

“My hair hasn't been this long in ten years.” Sy laughed, blushing and biting his lip. “I've been thinking about cutting it again.”

“I will end you, Wyatt.” Lily threatened, touching the tip of her finger to his nose.

“Oh, busting out the middle name and everything.” He smirked, taking a playful snap at the tip of her finger. “Lily?” He whispered, biting the inside of his lip as he stared into her eyes.

“What?” She replied, tilting her head at him.

“Have you thought about going back?” Sy murmured, brow creasing. “Back to Middleburg, to see your grandparents. Jak isn't a threat anymore. I'm sure they would love to see you and I'd bet my life, you want to see them again. Especially now, with the baby on the way.”

Lily pressed her lips together, resting her hands on Sy's shoulders. “It would be nice to see them again.” She answered, after a long pause.

“But?” He pressed, sensing it coming next.

“What if they don't want to see me?” She asked, searching his eyes for comfort, and found it. “What if they don't want me in their life anymore?”

Sy took a deep breath, sitting up as he did, and brought Lily up with him. “Then, that's their loss.” He told her, folding her up in his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead. “If they don't want you in their life, then they are missing out on knowing one of the most amazing gals, who can light up a room, simply by walking into it.”

“You're just buttering me up, Austin.” Lily mumbled into his neck.

“Woman, have I ever lied to you?” Sy grinned into her hair.

“No.” She chuckled, blushing shyly.

“I don't intend to now, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her temple. “But, you won't know their reaction, unless you go and see them.” He added, softer.

“I know.” She whispered back, leaning against his chest. “You're right. I owe it to them and myself.”

“Whatever choice you make, I'll support you, every step of the way.” Sy told her, gently tipping her head back and tenderly kissed her.

“I think I want to go see them.” Lily said, later that night, while she and Sy sat at the dinner table.

Sy looked up from his plate of spaghetti and garlic bread, slowly lowering his fork. “All right.” He nodded, straightening his back and giving her his full attention. “When do you wanna go?”

“The sooner, the better, I think.” She mumbled, shifting in her seat, her own dinner mostly untouched.

Sy nodded his head again, quietly regarding Lily from across the table. He could see the worried and fearful anxiety on her face, still mulling over every worst case scenario about seeing her grandparents again, he could almost see every one of them tick by her eyes. Afraid that her grandparents would disown her, the moment they laid eyes on her. Blaming her for what transpired with Jak. Afraid of what their reaction would be, when she showed up at their door, after five years of silence, pregnant with the baby of man they had never heard of or met before, especially since they were incredibly religious.

He reached across the table, just in time to catch the tear that escaped and started to slip down her cheek, then rested his hand over hers. “No matter what happens, Lily. You still have me.” He told her, lovingly.

“You still have us.”

Lily grasped Sy's hand and tried to smile at him and not cry at the same time, which was hard with the way her hormones were starting to really get out of control. “I know.” She choked back.

“Let me finish painting the rest of the house and go to your twelve week baby appointment on Friday, then we'll pack a bag and ourselves into the car and drive out there.” He told her, making a game plan, so her frazzled and tired mind could relax.

“It's only a twenty-ish hour drive.”

“I think, that's a good idea.” Lily nodded, chewing on her lip, taking deep breaths.

Sy smiled and squeezed her hand. “Good.” He chuckled and let her hand go, before picking his fork back up and dug into his spaghetti.

Sy double checked his large, Army issued duffel bag, making sure he and Lily had enough clothing, he had her zofran, nausea medicine, and prenatal vitamin, along with everything else he, Lily and Aika would need for the almost nineteen hour drive from Celina to Middleburg, Virginia, having already put her pregnancy pillow in the car, before tugging the bag closed, slung it over his shoulder and went downstairs.

“Billie promised to keep an eye on the place and pick up the mail for us.” Lily said, meeting him in the entryway hall.

“Great.” He smiled. “Well, I got all our stuff packed.” He said, jostling the duffel bag.

“I already packed some snacks in the truck too.”

“Then, we're all set!”

“No, I have to pee, one more time.” Lily giggled, and rushed into the half bath.

Sy laughed, shaking his head and took the duffel bag out to the truck, dropping it in the back seat with Aika. “All set?” He asked as Lily came out of the house.

“I am now!” She nodded, crossing the yard to the truck and got into the passenger seat.

“Did you lock up?” He asked, getting in with her.

“Yep.”

“You good, Aika?” Sy asked, looking to the German Shepherd, who let out a loud bark. “All right, let's get this road trip underway!” He pulled up Google Maps on his phone and entered the address to Lily's grandparents' place, then set the device on its dock and started the truck.

Sy and Lily laughed, as they sang along to a song that came on Sy's playlist that they both liked, Enemies by Shinedown. But, Sy turned the song down, when Lily suddenly stopped singing and quickly identified the look she got just before she threw up. Quickly popping open the center console, Sy reached inside of it and pulled out a circular, blue and white object and opened it, holding it out to her. Lily took it from him, without question and threw up in it, once or twice.

“Where did you get this?” She asked, looking at it, realizing it was a hospital-grade nausea bag. “Did you rob a hospital?” She chuckled, looking over at him.

“No.” He laughed back at her. “I bought them off Amazon. I wasn't sure if you got car sick on long rides or not. But, I was sure the baby would make you nauseous, at least, once on the drive. So, I wanted to be prepared and make you as comfortable as possible in the process.”

Lily tied the used bag closed, then opened the center console and found another twenty-plus of the blue emesis bags inside. She smiled up at him, shaking her head in disbelief of his utter and complete thoughtful and preparedness.

“You never cease to amaze me, Austin.” She said, sitting back up. “You see how amazing your Daddy is.” Lily grinned, looking at her belly, and making Sy blush.

“Well, I gotta take care of ya, don't I?” He smirked, resting his hand on her thigh.

“Yeah, I suppose.” She sighed, smirking back at him.

“There's some Listerine strips in the center console, by the way.” Sy added, after a few quiet moments.

“I'm sorry, am I offending you?” Lily giggled, opening the console again and fished around for them, before finding the small blue case.

“No, no.” He grinned, chuckling. “Just figured you'd want to get the taste out of your mouth.” He explained, finally getting them on the interstate highway.

“Did you pack my nausea meds?” Lily asked, feeling another wave wash over her.

“Yeah. It's in our bag.” Sy nodded, brow creasing, as he tried to figure out what stupid shenanigans the car in front of them was up too.

Lily twisted in her seat and pulled the worn green bag between the front seats, tugging it open and riffled through it, until she found the little prescription bottle of tiny, white oval tablets, then turned back around. She removed one of the pills and cracked open one of the two bottles of Voss water in the cup holders and downed the pill.

“Why don't you rest?” Sy suggested, reaching behind her seat for her pregnancy pillow. “It's just going to be annoying highway stuff for a while.” He said, giving her the pillow.

“I don't want you to get lonely.” Lily protested, maneuvering and situating the U-shaped pillow into a comfortable position.

Sy smiled over at her. “I'll be fine, Angel.” He assured her. “If I get lonely, I'll talk to Aika and we'll play the quiet game.” He chuckled, looking at the dog from the rear view mirror. “I'll wake you up around one, and we'll find some little place to have lunch.”

“If you're sure.” Lily yawned, she was usually already in the middle of a nap by now.

“Positive, Sweetness.” He nodded, turning the heat on a bit to make sure she was kept warm.

Lily contorted her body in her seat, drawing up her legs and propping her head and the curve of her pillow against the window, wrapping her arms around it and hugging it against her body, before dozing off to sleep. Sy reached out and rested his hand on her leg, gently massaging it as he kept his eyes on the road, just listening to the hum of the tires on the worn asphalt of Interstate Forty fill the silent cabin of the truck; Aika curled up on the backseat. The quiet boredom of the road allowed the devil to whisper into Sy's ear.

He wasn't sure what to do, if Lily's grandparents, the people that raised her, rejected her, and not only her, but their great grand-baby, his child. He knew he had to be strong for Lily, it would crush her, if they wanted nothing to do with her and the baby, but Sy wasn't so sure he would be able to keep himself under control. He had a feeling he would end up giving the couple a very big piece of his mind, before bringing Lily back home to Celina.

“It'll be fine.” He said aloud, glancing over at Lily. “It'll be all right.” He assured her sleeping form, leaning over just enough to lay his hand on her belly.

Sy found a turn off into Memphis just before one in the afternoon, parking at a small riverfront park in downtown Memphis, giving Lily a quiet place to wake up and all three of them a place to stretch their legs, and Aika a place to pee.

“Hey.” Sy called, softly, shutting off the car and leaning across the console. “Lily. Wake up, baby.” He cooed at her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Hey, sweet pea.” He grinned, watching her eyes slowly flutter open, blinking at the bright sunlight glittering off the murky river water.

“Where are we?” She asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her cheek against the microfiber cover of her pillow.

“The home of the King, Memphis Tennessee.” Sy chuckled, teasingly, and kissed her again. “So, love me tender.”

“I'm all shook up.” Lily chuckled, unfolding herself and sitting up in her seat.

“Well, it's now or never, baby doll.” Sy roared, his head going back.

“Oh, don't be cruel.”

“But, I can't help fallin' in love.” He chimed back.

“What now, my love?” Lily asked, smirking at him.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you.” Sy commented, finding more and more of them every day. “But, I thought we'd get some fresh air and stretch our legs, I'm sure Aika has to pee. Then, we'll find some lunch.”

“I like that idea.” Lily nodded, pushing her pillow into the back seat, then climbed out of the truck, taking the used nausea bag with her to throw away, while Sy put Aika on her leash.

Sy took Lily by the hand and strolled down the little sidewalk along the riverside, watching the various types of boats go by them on the water. The weather was nice and warm with pleasant enough humidity, a few clouds floating in the baby blue sky.

“Are you craving anything specific?” Sy asked as they patiently waited for Aika to do her business in the grass beside them.

“Hmm.” Lily hummed, pressing her lips together and considering if there was something specific she wanted for lunch; she hadn't had any definitive cravings yet, other than the three days she really needed to eat Mac and Cheese.

But, something specific did strike Lily.

“A pretzel.” She purred, already licking her lips at the thought of the salty baked good.

Sy chuckled at her, amused at the expression on her face, eyes closed and dreamy. “All right. I'll get you a pretzel then.”

It was like a ding went off in Lily's soul. “I want a lot of Pretzels.” She said, eyes popping open and looked up Sy, almost manic and desperate.

“Okay.” He replied, brows raised and blinking at her. “I'll get you a pretzel for lunch, then some to munch on.”

“Yeah.” Lily nodded, staring down at their feet, eyes wide. “Pretzels are good.”

“That they are.” Sy agreed, snickering, unable to keep back his amusement.

Lily's eyes snapped up at him, watching him laugh at her, his eyes practically teasing and making fun of her. “Shut up.” She snapped, but started to laugh back at him. “I can't help it.”

“I know you can't.” He nodded, trying to stop, but it only made him laugh harder. “That's what makes it even better.”

“I hate you.” Lily giggled, playful punching him in the arm. “Now, I want my pretzel, Captain.”

“Yes, Major!” Sy replied, saluting her, then quickly cleaned up after Aika and took them back to the truck. “I just need to find a place to get you one.” He sighed, taking his phone off its dock and googled where to get a pretzel in Memphis, Tennessee.

“Okay, there's an Auntie Anne's not that far from us that does pretzels.” He said, saving the directions and setting them in that direction.

Leaving Aika in the car, Lily and Sy went into the shopping center the Auntie Anne's was in, navigating the crowd and line to the counter. Lily chewed on her lip for a moment, torn between getting a regular pretzel or the pretzel bites, before finally deciding on the bites with the nacho cheese dip. With her food, they navigated their way around again and Sy got himself something from the Wendy's the center had as well, before going back out to the truck to eat there; Lily stealing a couple of Sy's french fries and sharing a couple of her pretzel bites.

Once their lunch was finished and they tossed their empty containers away, Sy made a quick run into the Mega Wal-Mart across the street from the shopping center to buy a big bag of mini pretzels and a case of Voss water for Lily, knowing she was going to get very thirsting from devouring them.

“Thank you.” Lily said, when Sy gave her the bag as he got in the car, her eyes glued on the bag.

“Just don't turn into one.” He teased her, chuckling. “All right, let's get back on the road.”

“I don't want you driving all night, Austin.” Lily mumbled around a mouthful of pretzel.

“I know and I won't.” He replied, reaching a hand into the bag. “I'll go until sun down, then we'll find a place to sleep for the night.” He said, then crammed the four or five pretzels into his mouth.

“Good.” Lily smiled, passing back a pretzel to Aika, who quickly devoured it and came back for more.

Reaching Blacksburg, Virginia just after dark, Sy found a drive-thru to order them dinner and a motel for the night, parking out front of the motel's office. Sighing, he rested back in the driver's seat, scrubbing his palms over his tired face and lulled his head to the side to look over at Lily, who had fallen asleep again, twisted around her pillow and her half eaten bag of pretzels clutched to her chest. They were three hours away from her grandparents' orchard, three hours from finding out whether or not they would be in Lily and the baby's life.

“Watch her, girl.” Sy said to Aika, before slipping out of the truck, locking the doors for extra measure, and going inside the office to get a room.

Once he had the room, Sy got back into the truck and parked as close to the room as he could, before going around and opening Lily's door, careful not to let her slip out. Then, gently took the pretzel bag from her and set it aside, unbuckled her seat belt and tried to figure out for a moment how to untangle the mess of limbs and pregnancy pillow, but quickly gave up with an amused chuckle. He just picked up both her and the pillow to carry her into their room and laid her down on the bed, tugging the turned down blankets over her, then went out to get their bag, dinner and Aika.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy smiled, closing the room door with his foot as Lily sat up, rubbing at her face and pushing her hair out of her face. “I got us some food.” He said, holding up the bag.

“You hungry?”

Lily nodded, still sleepy. “Where are we now?” She asked, sitting cross legged on the bed, beside Sy as they ate their food.

“Blacksburg.” He replied, shoving fries in his mouth. “About three hours away from your grandparents' place.”

Lily bit her lip and nodded her head, staring at the half eaten, plain chicken sandwich in her hand, suddenly losing her appetite and set it down. “I'm gonna take a shower, I'm sore.” She mumbled, getting off the bed and headed into the tiny bathroom.

Turning on the light and closing the door, Lily let out a heavy breath and tugged her tank top off over her head, followed by her elephant patterned leggings and underwear, before turning towards the shower, the walls were dingy and discolored, but clean. Spinning the hot and cold taps, then stepping under the shoddy shower-head, she leaned her forehead against the cracked acrylic wall, letting the pleasantly warm water cascade down her back, like a waterfall, with a soft moan. She was starting to have second thoughts about going to see her grandparents. She wondered how upset or disappointed Sy would be, if she told him she wanted to go back home to Celina in the morning, instead of going the three hours to Middleburg to see them.

She wondered how disappointed in herself she would be later on, if she chickened out this close to their destination.

The bathroom door opened and closed, followed by the rustle of clothing, before Sy stepped into the shower behind Lily, resting one hand on her hip and brought the other one around to cup the gentle slope of Lily's belly, pressing his lips to the base of her neck. Gulping down a thicket of emotions in her throat, Lily turned in Sy's arms and pressed herself against his chest, nuzzling her face into his neck. He smiled against her wet hair, gently kneading her hips and lower back, knowing after so many hours in the car and the way she contorted her body to sleep, she must have been in pain.

“Let me take care of you.” He whispered, kissing her forehead.

Sy picked up the little bottle of travel sized, hotel shampoo, broke the seal on it and poured it into his broad palm, then gently massaged it into her hair, stealthily wiping away a line of soap that dripped down her forehead and almost in her eye. Lily closed her eyes, softly moaning at the gentle and pleasurable pressure of Sy's strong and blunt fingers working the scentless shampoo into her scalp, his thumbs moving out to methodically rub her temples, easing the edge off of the tension migraine she had all day. Sy tipped her head back into the spray of the shower, combing his fingers through her wet and soapy strands to rinse out the shampoo. With her hair washed, he found a small wash cloth and bar of soap, and started to wash her body, beginning with her shoulders and applying a little bit of pressure as he did to massage the cramped muscles there.

“God, that feels so good.” Lily sighed, melting under his tender affection, a smile twitching on her face as he rubbed the cloth over the ticklish spots of her sides.

Sy smiled, kissing the bridge of her nose. “Anything for you, Angel.” He cooed back, paying special attention to the beautifully growing bulge of her belly.

“Thank you.” She whispered, relaxed and sleepy, after they got out of the shower, letting Sy dry her off and secure the towel around her body.

“You're welcome, Sweetheart.” He replied, kissing her cheek.

Lily went back into the room and opened their duffel bag, just pulling out the first article of clothing that her hand came in contact with, which was Sy's worn, Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey t-shirt and let the towel slip off her and pulled on his shirt. Sy stood in the bathroom doorway, still naked and dripping from the shower and smiled at her, loving how the black garment hung on her like a dress, her shoulder length hair dripping and making it wet as she brushed it.

He had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

Moving over to the full sized bed, Sy situated her pregnancy pillow, then turned towards Lily. “Lay down, Angel.” He cooed at her.

Frowning at him for a moment, but seeing the look in his blue eyes, Lily chuckled and laid down, situating herself with her head and neck propped up on the belly of the pillow and her body comfortably cradled in the middle of it. Sy picked up her discarded towel and used it to dry off some, before turning off the room lights, then crawled into bed with her. Moving between Lily's legs and gently bending up her knees and pushing them apart, Lily's startled gasp filled the dark room as Sy's warm breath wafted over her exposed folds, just before his wide tongue took one long and leisurely lick.

“Jesus H. Christ!” She cried out, gripping the arms of her pillow.

“Just me, Angel.” Sy chuckled, hooking his arms around her legs, so they rested on his shoulders, and pressed his palms down on top of her thighs, to keep her still, before dipping his head back down and pressing an open kiss to her clit, flicking the tip of his tongue against it, melting Lily into a sweet and needy whimper.

Sy licked and suckled at her delicate pussy, slipping his tongue between her folds to tease her entrance and get a deeper taste of her, lewd noises filled the room as neither of them hid the pleasure they were in and having. Lily rocked against his mouth, her hands pressed to the back of Sy's head to hold him in place, eyes rolled and fluttered, her anxiety of not wanting to go to her grandparents' in the morning completely forgotten in the heady peak of her orgasm.

“I love your mouth.” Lily sighed, out of breath, exhausted and pleasantly numb.

Sy roared with laughter, laying down beside her. “Good to know.” He grinned, pulling the blankets over them and draping his arm over her. “Good night, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her cheek.

“Night, Bear.” She mumbled back, starting to drift off.

Sy stayed awake for a little while, his hand slipping up inside the shirt she was wearing to gently caress her belly and stared at the back of her head. “God,” He whispered, careful not to wake or disturb her. “I don't ask much of you. But, for whatever my word is worth, please don't let these people hurt my girl. She needs and wants them in her life, so does our little one.” He said, lifting his hand to gently stroke her damp hair.

“Let this meeting tomorrow go well, for all of us.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging Lily back against him.

Lily took a deep breath and held it, as Sy turned the truck off the main road and onto the dirt road leading onto the Warren Orchard farm, seeing the tall apple tree shaped sign with Warren Apples carved elegantly in its trunk. It wasn't long before they came to the closed security gate, shutting them off from the rest of the farm. Sy rolled the truck to a stop and looked over to Lily, lifting a brow at her, waiting for her to tell him what they should do next, when a voice came to life next to him.

“Welcome to Warren Apple Orchards, what can I do for you?” A deep Southern drawl asked from a mounted intercom box outside the driver's side window.

Sy rolled down his window and leaned closer to the box, spotting the security camera mounted above the one side of the gate. “Yeah, we're here looking for the owners of the place.” He replied, glancing over at Lily again.

“Mr. and Mrs. Warren aren't taking visitors just now.”

Lily huffed through her nose and leaned over the center console and Sy. “Tell them, Liliana wants to see them, Judd.” She called out, biting and pressing her lips together.

There was a long pause with a bubble of tension, before an electric buzz filled the humid air around them and the metal gate rolled out of their way. Lily sat back in her seat and Sy gave her a concerned look, before driving though.

“You know him?”

“He's worked here as long as I can remember.” Lily replied, staring out her window to the immaculate lawn and row of trees beyond that. “Just keep following the road, you'll find the house at the end of it.” She added, picking at the hem of the shorts she was wearing.

True enough, a few minutes later, a massive colonial, plantation house appeared behind ancient weeping willows. Made mostly of white stone with two stories of wrap around porches and ornate black railings, tall marble columns, from the foundation to the roof; what looked like five chimneys, three turrets and an apple tree weathervane. The driveway looped around the front of the house, leading up the stairs onto the porch was double french, front doors.

Sy was in complete awe of it as he pulled around to the front of the driveway. “This place is amazing.”

“Yeah.” Lily gulped, biting her lip and stared up at the house. “Oh dear god.” She whimpered, shrinking her seat, trying to hide.

“What?” Sy frowned, then noticed a whited haired man step out of the house, wearing a pair of light brown khaki pants and a black pull over sweater with the Warren Orchard's logo on it, an apple with an arrow threw it, the front of the arrow's shaft bent in the shape of a W.

“I'm guess, that's--”

“My grandfather.” Lily nodded, peeking over the edge of the door to look up at him. “Yep.” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and pressed her forehead to the window.

“Well, you can't hide forever, Angel.” Sy told her, tilting his head at her. “He knows we're here and this is more than likely us, sitting here.”

“I know.” Lily huffed, chewing her lip. “I know.”

“You can do this, babe.” He encouraged her. “I'm right here, Angel.”

Lily looked over at him, looking at him like a lost puppy, before taking a deep breath and fortifying herself. “You're right.” She nodded, leaning over and kissed him.

Taking another deep breath, Lily opened her door and stepped out of the truck, gulping as she looked up the steps to her grandfather. Her heart felt like a war drum in her chest, she was excited to see him again, he didn't seem any different from the last time he had seen him, at least, not from the distance they were at.

But, she was also afraid of what was about to happen next.

“Paw-Paw.” She called out to him, softly, her voice shaky.

“Liliana.” He replied, lifting a snowy brow at her, his honey-brown eyes scrutinizing her.

“I've missed you.” Lily blurted out, sniffling, tears burning her eyes. “I'm sorry I disappeared. I'm sorry I just ran away and I didn't tell either of you where I was going or why. That I stayed away for so long without a word.”

“But, I thought about you all the time.”

He stared hard at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You scared the daylights out of your grandmother and I, Liliana. We tried looking for you everywhere, but you just vanished into thin air, like you never existed.” He told her, his anger slowly showing on his face.

“We thought you were dead.”

Lily bowed her head, ashamed for what she had put her grandparents through. “I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention, Paw-Paw.” She choked, looking back up at him, breathing hard.

“Then, what was your intention, Liliana?” He barked at her, his eyes glowing with rage. “Who are you?” He hissed, as Sy came around the front of the truck to wrap an arm around Lily's waist, to comfort her.

Sy looked up at him for a moment, his eyes hard at the man. “Austin Syverson.” He replied, hugging Lily against his side and rubbing her back.

“Your relation to my granddaughter is what?”

“I'm her boyfriend.” He replied, narrowing his eyes at the other man. “Look, she's come here, because she misses you both, very much, and has regretted the way she left. But, she had to leave, she had a very valid reason in doing so. In reality, she's an adult, more than capable of making her own choices and doesn't have to answer to anyone as to why she's made them.” He told Lily's grandfather.

“That includes you.”

“But, she's gained the strength to come here to try and make amends with you both, for more than one reason. You can either accept that or you can not. What happens now, is up to you.”

“Davy, who is it?”

A voice called from the double doors behind Lily's grandfather, before it opened to a thin, elderly woman with a short, curly pixie cut, who struggled to wheel herself out of the house and onto the porch. Her dim and pale blue eyes almost instantly found Lily at the bottom of the porch stairs, her hands flew to the front of her flower pattern dress, mouth dropping open.

“Liliana!” She exclaimed, reaching out a hand to her husband.

“Mee-maw.” Lily sniffled back, smiling at her grandmother through her tears.

“Thank the Lord, you're all right, my sweet child.” She cried, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“I am.” Lily nodded, wiping at her eyes. “And, I wanna be part of your lives again. I want to make amends for what I did by running away and disappearing. I'm sorry, I hurt you and Paw-Paw.”

Lily's grandmother looked up at her husband, who was still glaring at Lily and Sy, pressed her lips together, then looked back at them. “Come inside.” She said, letting his hand go and turned her wheelchair around and headed back towards the door.

“Davy.” She called over her shoulder.

Sighing, he turned and pulled the door open for her, eyeing Lily and Sy as they mounted the porch stairs, then followed his wife inside the house, before doing the same. She rolled down the hallway and turned into the private study, motioning to the long leather couch and parked herself in front of it.

“Hello.” She said, looking at Sy as he sat down beside Lily on the couch.

“Ma'am.” He replied, politely nodding his head to her.

“Who might you be?”

“Austin Syverson, Ma'am.” Sy answered with a sweet smile. “I'm your granddaughter's boyfriend.”

“Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Syverson.” She replied, regarding him. “I'm Violet Warren, and this is my husband, Davis.” She said, motioning to him as he took a seat in a chair to Lily and Sy's left.

“Sir.” Sy said, nodding his head stiffly to him.

“You're looking well, Liliana.” Violet commented, turning her attention to her granddaughter.

“Thank you.” Lily whispered, licking her lips. “I just go by Lily now.”

Violet nodded her head. “Very well.” She acknowledged. “Where've you been, Lily?”

Lily drew a deep breath through her nose and slowly let it back out. “It's a long story.” She whimpered, gripping Sy's hand for support, chewing the inside of her cheek to bits.

Davis and Violet glanced at each other, before she leaned forward and took a small hand bell off the coffee table between them and rang it. A moment later, a young lady appeared in the doorway of the room and Violet asked her to serve them some tea. The tension was tight and thick in the room while the tea was being made for them, no one saying a word to each other. The servant returned, carrying in a highly polished tea tray and set it down on the coffee table, setting out teacups for the four of them and filled the cups, before leaving the room again.

“What is your story, Lily?”

Carefully drizzling a bit of honey into her tea with a honey dipper and taking a fortifying sip of it, Lily started her story. “You know that I had been seeing Jak.” She said, looking between her grandparents.

“We did.” Violet nodded, taking a sip of her own tea.

“Well, what you didn't know was Jak had been abusive to me.” She continued, staring into the rich and steamy liquid in the expensive china teacup. “He had been the entire time we were together. But, I was too naive and silly to break it off with him for the longest time. But, after a particularly bad incident, I decided I couldn't take it any longer. So, I packed a bag and went to live with Maggie. I didn't tell you-” She paused, brow creased, she had often thought about why she hadn't told them, but had never really pinned down a specific reason to why she hadn't.

But, she shook that thought off.

“I honestly don't know why I hadn't. All I knew was I was terrified of Jak finding me again and dragging me back into the life and situation I had been living in for so long with him. While I was with Maggie, I changed my name from Liliana Jade Warren to Lily Ana Moore, to make it harder for him to find me, which made it hard for the both of you to find me, and finished university.” She continued on. “After I did that, I moved to a very small town in Texas and started my own company for my Graphic Design and Photography.”

“It's how I've been supporting myself.”

“I was so consumed by my paranoia and fear of Jak finding me, that I never left the house I bought in Texas, five years ago, this is the farthest I've been from it, since I've moved there.” She confessed, looking to Sy, who smiled at her, supportive and proud.

“What's changed?” Her grandfather asked, his own teacup still where the servant set it, ignored and cold. “Why are you here now?”

Lily cleared her throat and set her tea aside. “I left and became reclusive, agoraphobic, because I felt unsafe and afraid. That Jak would end up finding me and hurting me. He did end up finding me, but Austin...” She looked to Sy, her eyes filled with appreciative love and pride. “Austin makes me feel safe again. He's protected me, in more than one way, and he's shown me what real love is. I owe him so much.”

Sy grinned brightly at her, gripping her hand, a bit choked up at her words.

“He's helped me get back to this place, a place I've held onto, wanting to be a productive member of society, to be back in your life and be your granddaughter again. I miss you and I love you both. That never changed and it will never change.”

“That never changed for us either, Lily.” Violet replied, resting her teacup back on its saucer. “You will always be our precious granddaughter and we have always loved you; from the moment you were born to this moment right now.”

“I hope you could find it in your heart, to have a little more love.” Lily whispered, biting the inside of her lip, gulping.

“For what?” Violet frowned, brows drawing together and head tilting at her.

Lily looked to Sy, who nodded his head at her. “Sy and I are expecting.” She mumbled, not meeting either of her grandparents' eyes.

“You're with child?” Violet asked, shocked disbelief in her voice.

“I am.” Lily nodded, whimpering.

“I hope you're not here, thinking this little reunion will get you money.” Her grandfather snapped, coldly.

Lily's eyes snapped over to him, a cold knot of shock, hurt and anger in her stomach, she could feel the tension stiffen Sy's body. “We don't need any of the family money.” She hissed, eyes hardening. “My business alone is quite well off, thank you; and I'm more than offended at the accusation.”

“That's putting it politely.” Sy chimed in, staring daggers into the old man.

“Davis.” Violet barked, offended at her husband's insult as well, she had no feeling that Lily and Sy were there looking for money or assistance with their lives or the baby.

“Excuse me, for the last time I recalled a couple sitting on that very same couch to tell us they were expecting a child, it was our sweet Daisy and that good for nothing, Palmer, and we all saw how that ended.” Davis replied, his voice cold and sharp.

“Austin isn't my father.” Lily barked, her voice mirroring her grandfather's.

Lily and her grandfather glared darkly at each other, before Violet grew annoyed with their childish behavior and clapped her bony hands together, catching the room's attention.

“That is quite enough.” She scolded them.

Sy hid his smirk around the rim of his teacup, already liking Lily's grandmother.

“How far along are you?” Violet asked, looking at Lily.

“Almost thirteen weeks.” She replied, unconsciously touching her belly.

“Do you know what you're having?”

“Not yet.” Lily grinned at Sy, giddy at the thought of finding out the gender of the baby, she didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, she was just excited in general. “We won't know for another five weeks.” She added, glancing over at her grandmother.

“Well,” Violet grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I can't wait to meet my great-grandbaby.” She said, sounding overjoyed at the prospect. “Davy?” She looked to her husband, her eyes still filled with excitement, but outlined with warning.

Davis looked at her for a moment, then over at Lily, before looking down at the watch on his right wrist, then stood. “I have to meet Mac in the south orchard.” He said, tonelessly, and left the room.

Lily let out an uneven breath and painful tears punched her in the chest, turning her face into Sy's collarbone as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her against his side, pressing his lips to her hair. Violet's mouth was pressed into a thin, angry, lipstick red line as she continued to stare out the study doorway after Davis, the rapturous event of finding out about their great-grandbaby being overshadowed by his stubborn pigheadedness.

“I think we should go.” Sy said to Lily, gently wiping away her tears.

“Please, do stay.” Violet chimed in, turning her attention back to them. “There's more than enough room right here.” She said, looking back and forth between Lily and Sy. “Please, it's been so long, Lily. You've been gone and so far away. Town is twenty minutes away and with you here now, two minutes is too far away.”

Lily looked up at Sy.

“It's up to you, Angel.” He whispered, brushing his thumb against her flushed cheek.

She looked over at her grandmother. “Of course, I would love that.” She whispered, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

Violet smiled at her, relieved to have her granddaughter under the same roof again. “I'll have Clara set two extra places at the table.” She grinned, overjoyed. “I'll even have her make your favorites for lunch and dinner.”

Lily smiled at her, touched at her grandmother's sentiment. “Thank you.”

“You remember where your room is?” She replied, lifting a brow at her.

“I do.” Lily nodded her head.

“Then, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you must be tired with the baby and the long journey from Texas.”

“I am.” She agreed, sighing softly.

“Off you both go then, the bell will ring, when lunch is ready.”

“Thank you, Mee-Maw.” Lily said, nodding her head and stood up, Sy standing with her.

“Ma'am.” Sy nodded his head to Violet, then followed Lily out of the room and down the hall to a flight of stairs. “Well, that didn't go as badly as the two of us thought it would.” He commented, mounting the stairs behind her.

“No, it did not.” Lily replied over her shoulder, going up the three sets of stairs. “I just hope my grandfather comes around.” She added, coming to the second floor and going down to a door at the very end of the hall. “This is...was—my room.” She said, turning the vintage, metal and ceramic door knob that had a hand-painted gold floral design on it, and pushed the door open.

The bedroom was spacious and bright with the mid-morning sun shining in through four windows, between one set of windows sat a squat, five compartment, vintage chest of drawers, across from that was a full sized, poster bed, with the doorway to a bathroom to the left and a walk-in closet to the right. There was a bookcase and table against the wall by the door, mostly filled with church and home school related things.

“It's a nice room.” Sy commented, picking up one of the books on the table, a bible.

“Thanks.” Lily smiled, shyly, seeing that her grandparents had left her room the exact way she'd left it, when she moved out.

“Do you wanna rest for a little while?” He suggested, stepping up behind her and resting his hands on her hips, gently pressing his thumbs into the small of her back and massaging them.

“Yeah.” She moaned, her head dropping back against his chest, turning to kiss the underside of his bearded jaw.

“How about a nice warm bath first, maybe a cup of tea?”

Lily chuckled into his neck, grinning. “So dotting, Captain.” She teased him.

“I love you.” He cooed, kissing her forehead, then moved away from her and went into the bathroom, plugging the drain on the ancient claw-foot tub and turned the X-shaped tap handles.

Lily padded into the bathroom, sitting down on the closed toilet seat and pushed down the stress of her grandfather's behavior towards her, to watch Sy fill the bath for her, a soft smile on her face. She stood up for a moment and reached underneath the sink and removed a small bottle and handed it to him. Sy smiled at her and took it from her, uncapping it and getting the strong snap of eucalyptus and sprinkled the Epsom salt into the delicately warm water, before turning off the tap. He grabbed a towel and folded it, then situated it at one end of the tub, to pillow her head, when she started to soak.

“Now, where is the kitchen?” He asked, looking at her.

“Down the stairs, first door to your right.” Lily replied, getting out of her clothing.

“Cool, I'll be right back.” Sy told her, kissing her temple and stepped out of the room to go downstairs to get her tea.

Lily finished undressing and carefully stepped into the pleasantly warm water, leaning back with a soft and satisfied moan, focusing on the warm water enveloping her body easing away her aches and pains, melting away the anxieties that had accumulated during the drive over from Texas and the visit. While Sy found the kitchen and pushed open the swinging door, finding the cook, Clara, inside, who looked up as she heard him come in and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Can I help you?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Um, just need a cup of tea.” He replied, licking his lips and glancing around the kitchen.

“Oh, of course, right away.”

“I'd hate to put you out.” Sy said, alarmed.

Clara chuckled at him, pulling down a cup from a high cabinet. “It's what the Warren's hired me for.” She assured him. “I'm guessing it's for Lily.” She added, moving about the kitchen as she put the things together to make the tea.

“Yeah.” He nodded, then patiently waited for her to finish and took the cup from her. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Clara smiled, and returned to what she had been doing.

Sy carefully took the cup back upstairs to Lily, smiling as he stepped into the bathroom and saw her lounging comfortably in the tub. He was glad she could relax and let the stress go, even if it was for a little while. Lily stirred as he sat down beside her, smiling at him and taking the cup of tea from his outstretched hands and let out a pleased moan.

“Feels like a spa day.” She chuckled, handing her teacup back to Sy for him to hold, so she could relax back again.

“You deserve to relax.” Sy replied, softly. “You've got an important job to do.”

“Yeah, I'm growing a Syverson.” Lily chuckled, teasingly.

“Exactly.” He laughed back. “That's no easy feat to bring one of us into the world.”

“Bringing a Syverson into the world is just the start of it, then we have to raise them.”

“Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble.” Sy grinned at her. “Nothing, but trouble.”

“Toil and bubble.” Lily giggled, fully amused and lighthearted.

“Come on, sleepy, out with you.” Sy said, setting her empty teacup on the vanity counter and pulled the towel off the bar and held it open for her.

“Okay.” Lily replied, stifling a yawn with her hand.

Stepping out of the tub and into Sy's arms, she rested her forehead against his chest and let him dry her off. Sy had taken a liking to drying her off after she showered or bathed, since she'd become pregnant, none of which Lily protested to, she was usually very sleepy by the time she got out of them, so having him there to finish up was always nice.

“Oh, fuck.” He barked, after helping back into her clothing. “Your pillow is still in the truck.”

“It won't kill me to have one nap without it.” Lily said, through yet another yawn.

“You were a very cranky mama bear the last time you didn't have that thing to sleep with.” He reminded her. “I'll go down and get it, just sit tight.”

“I'd rather lay tight.” She huffed, starting to get cranky as she shuffled over to her bed and laid down.

Sy rushed back downstairs and nearly collided with Violet. “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” He panted, making sure she was all right. “ Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, where's the fire, Mr. Syverson?”

“Lily's laying down for her nap and I just realized she doesn't have her pregnancy pillow and she always wakes up very cranky, when she doesn't have it to sleep with.” He explained, calming down.

Violet smiled up at Sy, touched and pleased at the plain devotion he had for her granddaughter. “Well, we can't have that, now can we?” She chuckled, rolling back out of his way.

“No, ma'am.” Sy shook his head at her.

“Violet, Mr. Syverson. Just call me Violet.” She informed him as Sy reached the front door.

He paused, hand on the door and smiled at her, remembering when Lily told him to call her by her given name. “Of course, Ms. Violet.” He nodded at her, politely.

Violet smiled back at him and Sy went out to his truck.

“Hey, girl.” Sy said, opening the passenger door of the truck and only to get attacked by Aika's tongue. “I know, I know. I haven't forgotten about ya. I promise.” He chuckled, petting her. “I'll come back down in a couple minutes and take care of you. But first, I have to take care of your mama.” He said, reaching in the back seat for Lily's U-Shaped pillow, pushed Aika back and closed the door again, before rushing back upstairs.

“Okay, pillow.” Sy said, bursting into the room, only to find Lily curled into a ball and sound asleep, making him chuckling. He situated her pillow and gently unrolled Lily from her ball and slipped her between her pillow, before covering her up.

“Sleep sweet, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her cheek softly, then went back downstairs. “Um, do you know where Ms. Violet is?” He asked the servant that had served him and Lily tea when they had first arrived.

“Yes, she's in the private study, right through there.” She replied, pointing the way.

“Thank you.” He nodded, then went down, gently knocking on the door.

“Enter.”

“Ms. Violet?”

“Ah, Mr. Syverson, I'm trusting the pillow crisis was averted?” She asked, an amused glitter in her eyes.

Sy chuckled. “It was, thank you.”

“Then, what can I help you with?”

“I, uh, brought Lily and I's dog with us...” He said, sheepishly, though Lily's grandmother seemed like a very sweet woman, Sy got the vibe she was the authority in this household and crossing her wasn't the way to go. “She's in my truck and I didn't want to take her out without asking first, so I didn't step on any toes and cause any issues with you and your husband.”

“What kind of dog is she?”

“She's a German Shepherd.” Sy replied, licking his lips. “I found her in the war-zone on my last deployment.” He half explained to her.

Violet blinked several times at Sy. “You were in the military?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, with a deep sense of pride. “I was a Captain in the U.S Army, Special Forces, for more than ten years.”

“What's the pup's name?”

“Aika.”

“Well, Aika is more than welcome here.” She told him. “As long as she behaves herself.” She added, a soft smile on her face.

“She's a very well behaved dog, you have my word.” Sy replied, smiling back at her.

“Good.” Violet nodded. “Just make sure you keep her out of the orchards or Davis will have a never-ending fit.”

“Will do.”

Excusing himself, Sy went back out to the truck and put Aika on her leash, walking her around the front of the property and away from the orchards, making sure to clean up after her, then brought her inside, taking her upstairs to Lily's room, where she curled up on the bed with Lily, before he decided to do a little exploring himself before lunch.

He wandered into the orchards, seeing the short trunks, but wide crowns, light green and shiny apples weighing down its branches and a couple littered the ground. There easily had to be a hundred trees of the same sort for as far as Sy could see in the area he was in, before he moved on. Sy came to a small dirt lane and crossed it into a totally different portion of the orchard, these trees were still squat and wide, but the apples on their branches were medium sized and mostly two toned, a dull red that faded into a yellow-y green color.

He crossed another dirt road and found another orchard of another kind of apple, this one a light yellow color, when he heard voices and then his name and turned, seeing Lily's grandfather, realizing he had wandered into the south orchard.

“What are you doing out here?” Davis asked, approaching him.

“Just looking around.” Sy replied, keeping his tone guarded. “Lily's told me a lot about the place.”

“And where is she?”

“Back at the house, sleeping.” Sy told him, his shoulders stiff. “She gets tired a lot with the baby.”

“Hm.” Davis huffed and turned on his heels.

“What's your problem?” Sy barked after him, unable to hold his temper any longer. “She just wants her grandfather, the man that raised her, back in her life, in her child's life. Not your money or your business, just your love and affection.”

Davis spun around on his heels to face Sy. “I might have raised her, because my Daisy died, and her father was an unreliable scum, but she's making the same mistake her mother did. I won't be part of that again.”

“I won't be there when it kills her too.” He hissed, then stormed off.

Lily woke up to Sy's angry pacing at the foot of the bed and cursing under his breath, and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “What's wrong, Bear?” She asked, frowning at him.

“Your grandfather is a pigheaded, son of a bitch.”

Her mouth fell open for a moment, then her brows drew together and her eyes narrowed. “Did the two of you get into an argument?”

“Sorta.” He huffed back.

“For the love of Jesus, Austin.” Lily barked at him, pressing her hands to her face. “Why?”

“I didn't go lookin' for it, Lily.” He retorted, stopping his pacing. “I was just checking out the orchards and ran into him. One thing came to another, I asked him what his problem was, all you want is his love and affection back, not his damned money or his orchard, and his reply was you're making the same mistake your mother made and you'll end up dying because of it too.”

“Which you will fucking not!” He added, a panicked fright breaking through his burst of anger.

“Of course, I'm not going too, Bear.”

Lily sighed, shaking her head and running her hand through her hair, before getting up out of bed. “I'll be more than all right. We have a great doctor and an amazing hospital back home. Plus, I have you to take care of and look after me, the whole time. I'll be perfectly safe and sound.” She told him, hugging her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.

“Don't listen to him, Sy. He's just a grumpy old man, set in his ways.”

“What's that make me?” He asked, half jokingly.

“My boyfriend and Papa Bear.” She giggled, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“Good to know, Mama Bear.” He teased back, dipping his head to kiss her. “The fuck was that?” He asked as two loud dinging sounds filled the house.

“That is the lunch bell.” Lily replied, pulling away from him. “One ding is breakfast, two is lunch and three is dinner.” She explained to him, finding her shoes and slipping them back on. “Old Virginian hospitality, Syverson. I know you Texans aren't used to it.”

“Oh, you posh and polished Southerners.” He teased back, following her downstairs. “Give me the ringing of a triangle any day and this cowboy will know the way to the dinner table.”

“Remind me to buy one for our house, then.” Lily giggled, showing him into the family dinning room.

“Buy what for your house?” Violet asked, already seated at one end of the table.

“Oh, Sy was making fun of us for being—what did you call it?” She asked, looking at him as he vigorously shook his head at her. “Ah yes, posh and polished Southerners, for having a meal bell.” You grinned at him, impishly. “While, pointing out the Texas Cowboy in him could only find his way home, if he heard the call of a triangle bell.”

“I said, I would be able to find my way to the table. I know my way home, thank you very much.” He spoke up, his cheeks pink underneath the hairs of his beard.

Both Lily and Violet's laughter filled the dining room, but Sy soon joined them. But, the laughter died down as Davis entered the room, taking his place at the other end of the table, practically sucking the air out of the room as he took his seat.

“How is the south orchard doing?” Violet asked, as lunch was being served.

“One of the original York apple trees is starting to fail for some reason.” Davis replied, picking up the salt shaker. “Mac and I were running through a list of things we can do to save it.” He explained, paying closer attention to his food than to the others at the table with him.

“This looks really good.” Sy commented, licking his lips at his plate.

“It's one of Lily's favorites.” Violet smiled at him. “Creamy Shrimp pasta.”

“I used to try and bribe Clara into making it for every meal once for a whole summer.” Lily chuckled, twirling the angel hair pasta around her fork. “Never worked out.”

“Didn't deter you from trying though.” Violet chuckled, smiling fondly at her granddaughter. “I'm more than sure you'll love what Clara is making you for dinner.”

“I have no doubt.” She smiled back.

“Oh, Mr. Syverson, if you'd like a place to park your truck, I'm sure Davis could show you where the garage is.” Violet said, her eyes on her husband.

“Thank you, Ms. Violet.” Sy replied, smiling at her. “And, please, call me Sy or Austin, whichever you might prefer.” He told her, a bit shyly.

“Austin, it is.” Violet answered, giving him a sweet smile. “But, you can do that for him, can't you?” She said, lifting a brow at her husband, with an expression that dared him to object to her request.

Davis stared at his wife, his hard brown eyes holding Violet's stern blues, before his shoulders dropped slightly. “I'll show you after lunch.”

“Thank you.” Sy replied, stiffly.

Lily rested her hand on Sy's thigh, gently squeezing it, trying to keep him calm and relaxed. “How have the orchards been?” Lily asked her grandfather, trying to open any sort of connection with him. “I know picking season is coming up soon in the next few months.” She pointed out, gathering up a forkful of her shrimp pasta.

There was a long silence at the table, each second made Lily's heart clench tighter, fearing her grandfather would just continue to ignore her and pretend she didn't exist. She didn't know how much more of his coldness she could take, before it became too much to bear and she would just want to leave again.

No matter how much it would hurt.

“Other than the York tree showing signs of white rot, the orchards are as productive and fruitful as ever.” He finally spoke.

“What happens if you don't cure the white rot?” Lily frowned, concerned for the tree.

“We lose the tree.” Davis sighed, resting back in his chair and tossing his napkin onto the table beside his plate. “It'll only be the third originally planted tree on the farm we've ever lost. Well, with any luck the rot won't spread and it won't hit us too hard.” He explained, looking at her.

“Just because you lost one, don't mean you'll lose more.” Lily replied, holding his gaze.

Davis dropped his eyes and nodded his head, sighing, then looked up at Sy, noticing his empty plate. “You done?”

“I am.” Sy nodded, wiping his mouth.

“Come on, and I'll show you where the garage is and you can park your truck.” He said, standing up, leaving his half eaten lunch on the table.

“I'll be right back.” Sy whispered to Lily, kissing her cheek and stood, following her grandfather out of the house.

The walk from the house was silent as they stepped off the paved driveway and onto a pea gravel lane that led a little ways away from the house, through a small grove of very ancient looking weeping willows to a large building with several vehicles parked outside of it.

“You can park it here.” Davis said, motioning to the area in front of them.

“Thanks.” Sy nodded to him, then turned back to get his truck.

Bringing his truck around and finding a place to park it, Sy got out and and grabbed their duffel bag out of the back and locked up, heading back up to the house; when Davis stopped in his tracks, noticing the duffel bag slung over his shoulder; the worn military green and the faded, black U.S letters.

“Something the matter?” Sy frowned, turning back to him.

“That's a military bag.” Davis replied.

“Yes, it is.” He nodded, shifting it on his shoulder and tilting his head at the other man.

“It's yours?”

Sy's shoulders slumped and he stared at the old man. “I served more than ten years in the U.S Army as a Captain in the Special Forces.” He explained to him. “I retired almost a year ago.”

“How did you and Lily meet?”

“As I said, I retired almost a year ago and I returned home to Austin, Texas.” Sy replied, sighing. “Even though I could live quite well on my retirement, I don't like not having a job or being idle. So, I went about applying for jobs, mostly jobs I could do with my hands, construction jobs and such. A construction company told me about a contract that they had gotten from a young lady, who needed help fixing her place up in Celina, which is about three hours south of Austin. I called about it and got the job. I'm sure you guessed, it was Lily.” He smirked, chuckling to himself.

“I started fixing the place up for her and we grew close, especially after we helped each other through a few traumatic things.”

“Like, what?”

“I have pretty severe PTSD from my time in deployment and Lily's gotten me through more than one episode.” Sy smirked, blushing slightly and toeing the ground with the tip of his boot. “She's the guiding light to holding them back.” He whispered softly. “As for her, she's been through a lot in the last five years, especially the fear and turmoil caused by Jak.” He said. “There's nothing on this planet, there hasn't been anything on this planet, I wouldn't do to ensure her happiness and safety.”

Sy looked Davis dead in the eyes, a deep seriousness coming over him, even though he had a knot in his stomach. “Listen, your granddaughter isn't a little girl anymore. She's a grown woman, and a beautiful, loving and intelligent one, at that. She's so incredibly caring for the people around her, even when she's been so hurt and her trust in people has been cut deeply. Her work ethic is admirable, she built a company from the reclusion of her own home, that she hadn't left in more than three years, and it is thriving. She's even currently in the process of interviewing people to fill two positions, because she has so many clients, that she's in need of the extra help.”

“You're projecting the fear of your daughter’s mistakes and death on Lily and it isn't fair to her, or to you and your wife.”

“My Daisy Mae's misfortunes aren't the only failures that have me disappointed in the situation.” Davis said, rolling his jaw at Sy.

Sy huffed at him, biting his lip and nodding his head at him. “You think I'd be some, what was it, unreliable scum, like her father?” He asked, lifting a brow at him.

Davis sighed back at him, scrubbing a palm over his wrinkled forehead and lifted a brow at him. “Come with me.” He said, motioning him back towards the house.

Pressing his lips together, Sy followed him back up to the house and into Davis's private study, setting the duffel bag down by the door as Davis closed it behind him. Davis motioned to a leather and mahogany upholstered chair in front of a cold fireplace, then moved over to a small table of bottles and glasses, pouring them both a drink. He handed Sy a glass and took the seat across from him, taking a long sip.

“Smooth stuff.” Sy commented, licking his lips and admiring the rich, amber liquid.

“Maker's Mark, Kentucky bourbon whiskey.” Davis replied, smirking at his glass, appreciatively.

“Anyhow.” He cleared his throat, balancing his glass on the arm of his chair. “Palmer Hughes. He came to work here in the summer of 1985, he was twenty years old and Daisy was eighteen. I knew the boy was trouble the moment I set eyes on him and knew I should have sent him picking.”

“But, for whatever reason, and against my better judgment, I didn't.”

“He took an instant liking to our Daisy, who was ordinarily a good mannered, well behaved and proper girl. But, as soon as he set his eyes on her, he started corrupting her. He would stop coming to work in the fields to sneak himself and her off the property and go into town or wherever it was they would go to. Daisy started to become more defiant and rebellious. One of our church elders even spotted her and Palmer with a group of their lowlife friends in a questionable area of town, getting high, smoking and drinking.”

“It was such an embarrassment.” He sighed, taking a deep gulp of his drink. “When Daisy was twenty-one, she came to her mother and I and told us she was pregnant. Palmer had split the moment he found out about it. But, I tracked his no good ass down and dragged him back. He and Daisy got married just before Lily was born.”

“What happened?” Sy asked, frowning at him, the burn of the alcohol melting through the knot in his stomach as he thought about it. “How did her mother die?”

“She developed a hemorrhage that the doctor's couldn't get under control, so she ended up bleeding to death.” Davis explained, growing pale at the memory of the doctor's telling him and his wife the news of their daughter’s death, their only child. “For his part, Palmer did seem distraught over her death. But, he blamed Lily for it. So, he spent the rest of her life coming in and out of it, before Violet and I finally just adopted her and permanently took care of her.”

“It was Violet and I that ended up naming Lily, as well. Daisy hadn't picked one, that we were aware of, and Palmer wasn't being cooperative with anyone, us or the hospital staff.”

“Where is her father now?”

Davis sighed and carefully regarded Sy for a long moment, before replying. “He died, some years ago.”

Sy blinked at him, shocked. “You never told Lily this.”

“No.” He shook his head, guilty. “Vi and I thought it would be best that we didn't.”

“That's not really for either of you to decide.” Sy frowned at him, annoyed. “Lily deserves the truth.”

“I know she does.” Davis agreed. “I'll tell her, one day. As for you, Austin.” He met Sy's eyes. “I've unjustly projected my prejudices of Palmer onto you. You are, not even an ounce, the man he was. You are a man I wish my own daughter would have met and fallen in love with. But, I am glad my granddaughter met, fallen in love with and is having my great-grandbaby with you.”

“Thank you.” Sy answered, taking his compliment and finished off his drink.

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succliberation · 2 years ago

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I feel like someone could take the Ring Fit Adventure gimmick of "do exercise to attack enemies" and make a really amazing RPG out of it. But for some reason, fitness games are always extremely bland. Ring Fit is probably already the top of its class in storytelling and graphics, outside of VR games (which are more physically demanding than a PC game but don't focus on the physical activity as part of the experience).

Jogging, squatting, and doing stretches in order to advance a story or to cook in a traditional JRPG would be really fun! Even trying to figure out some kind of controller mod so you could use the Ring Fit controller and exercises to like, play Pokemon games would be neat.

I understand these games are often marketed to appeal to older people. Wii Fit was absolutely going for an older demographic. However, I don't think that fitness games need to be so dull. The mobile fitness game industry is a lot more varied than what we've gotten for consoles, although many of the monetization models are predatory, and they tend to be limited to actions like walking and using your GPS data to see how far you walked.

A platformer where you need to actually jump (or squat) to jump in the game is already something that I can think of in 5 seconds. It'd be nice to see "Mario but you gotta exercise" actually realized.

#idk i just really like fitness games #i played wii fit when i was a kid sooo much #and i think its entirely possible to mix the elation of completing a big set of reps #and the satisfaction of defeating major enemies in a traditional JRPG

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kayxleeee · 4 years ago

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Steve Rogers: The Man Out Of Time (Steve Rogers x Reader!)

Warning: NONE! FLUFFFFFFF Just Sad Steve and a moment of a nosey Romanoff .

A/N: Love this one to death! Still contemplating on if I should make a second part.

Summary: After the teams attempt to try and stop Ultron and failing horribly, you all find yourselves at the Barton’s Family farm. Steve is shooken up about his vision, and is reflecting on the life that he will never have. This was a side of Cap you never really seen before, he had never been this venerable with anyone. He was the one who held the team together and called everyone out on their bullshit. You find yourself consoling him, possibly blossoming a friendship into something more.

Word Count: 1k+

“Hey you.” You say standing in the doorway of the Barton’s spare bedroom.

“Hi.” Steve says lowly not looking up at you. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, visibly upset looking down at his already folded hands.

“What happened out there ?” You say referring to the squabble he and Tony had while breaking down wood for Laura. Steve got pretty pissed very quickly, which was kinda unusual for him, since he has always been the level headed one.

“It was nothing, I’m fine.” He sighs not breaking his focused gaze from his hands.

“Oh yeah, I can totally tell you are Steve. Just a typical ray of sunshine.” You say sarcastically hoping to lighten his mood.

The situation with Ultron was spiraling out of control, and that witch bitch only made matters one-hundred percent worse. From the visions, to the ambush, to the media buzz, you weren’t sure if the avengers would even recover. It was obvious that this new mission to stop Ultron was too much for even the strongest of the bunch, which was understandable, but still alarming.

“Come on.” You sigh leaning against the doorframe crossing your arms trying to examine his face. “You can talk to me, you don’t always have to be the most levelheaded one in the room. And plus I won’t leave you alone unless you tell me what’s up.”

“Now that I can believe.” He huffs out a small chuckle looking up at you, then takes a deep breath. “It’s all just a bit overwhelming.” He admits.

“Yeah I know this all may seem like a lot, but Tony meant well by building Ultron. He—“

“That’s—that’s something we can fix.” He says shaking his head. “I wasn’t, I mean I’m not that worried about Ultron because I have faith we will win that fight.” He says this then looks back down at his hands in his lap. “We just gotta figure out how.”

You sigh as you look at him confused hoping that he’d continue and share his thoughts. You were relived that he was ready to fight Ultron, together, and glad he had faith that the team would win; But if it wasn't Tony creating Ultron that bothered him it was something so much bigger.

It was the vision.

This made you gravely concerned about what he saw, what could be making him react this way, so solemn and hot headed. You walk all the way into the small farm house bedroom and sit next to him on the full sized bed, putting a hand over his own.

“Steve, talk to me.” You encourage him in a soft voice, giving his hand a squeeze.

This was all very knew territory, so you were shocked when he looked up at you through glossy eyes, before opening his mouth to speak again.

“I just can’t get it out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what Steve? The vision? Because that’s what they want, the twins, Ultron, they want us all to be off our game Steve. None of what you saw was real.” You say reassuring him by caressing your thumb over his hands.

“That’s the problem, it wasn’t real...but it- I’m the man out of time.”

“The man out of time?” You question repeating after him. You frown at the dumb catch phrase everyone seemed to use to describe Steve as. “What did you see?”

“I was with… with, her.” He sighs getting up from his position on the bed and walking over to the window. “It’s this, this whole secret life Bartons been living.” He pushed the cream colored curtains aside slightly gazing out the window. “I just wish that things could be different, that maybe I could… be happy like them.”

It dawned on you finally why he was upset. Steve never got the opportunity to live his life, in his time. He was so busy trying to prove himself or be the person everyone else wanted him to be. When he finally got a chance to show what he was made of— well he obviously got he short end of the stick. And now, well he’s so busy saving the world he’s barley even gotten a chance to live it now. He has told you about Peggy once or twice and how he fell in one with her, but you never thought he’d be so upset now.

“Steve…” You say not necessarily knowing what to say. You get up from the bed and walk over to him putting a hand on his shoulder. You turn your gaze outside the window to see Laura and Clint cuddle up on their yard, watching their children play.

He lets out a sigh. “That witch, the girl, the vision she gave me. It just felt so real,” He takes a deep breathe and turns to you. “I’ll never have that and the vision, it just made me think of just how much I missed… how much I’m missing.”

You sigh and decide to pull him into a hug immediately. You couldn't even try to pretend to know what he was going through. He doesn’t hug back right away, but in time he does. He rest his chin on the top of your head and holds you tight taking a deep breath inhaling shakily as you rub circles around his back. The two of you stay like this for a moment, while you gathered the correct words that you wanted to say, without making him feel worse. You hoped he didn’t mind your silence and hoped that maybe he needed this quiet and this closeness, just to feel someone was there with him.

After a few more moments you finally speak still holding on to him.

“Steve, you’re not a man out of time, I really hate that saying. It literally makes no sense to me because - not the point. What I am trying to say is you have multiple people here in this time who care about you and want to see the best for you, myself included.” You finally say as you pull away from him slightly so that you were able to get a good look at his face.” I think I’m the one rooting for you the most.”

It was true, you heavily looked up to Steve, and not just because he was taller or because he was the leader... But because he was truly a good man and always had good intentions. You would follow him into the trenches if he told you to, that's how much you trusted him and this is why it hurt you to see him so distraught.

You continue to speak. “I love you Steve, I really do, but your problem is you put the needs of others before your own.” You look at him as he looks at you, his blue eyes peering into your own as the wheels in his head begin to turn. You continue, “Honestly tell me, have you ever asked yourself what you wanted and just let yourself have it?”

He’s now looking at you in shock or confusion, either way his eyes were peering hard into yours as he thinks for a moment.

He frowns and shake his head no, then says, “I guess not… I’ve been so wrapped up in saving the world, I never really got a chance.” He says this with his hands still comfortably wrapped around you.

“Well I think you oughta think about that one mister.” You say giving him a smile and a quick peck on the cheek, about to pull him back in for another hug—

“Oh there you two are.” Natasha says as she peeps her head into the door way. You both turn to her still very close to one another. Her face goes from flat, too surprised, then back to normal. The two of you let go of each and move apart. You were calm, while Steve looked embarrassed.

“Don't stop on my account love birds.” She says with a smirk.

“ Everything alright Natasha?” Steve says clearing his throat trying to ignore her comment.

The smirk never leaves her face and she shakes her head “Fury is here, meeting in 5.” She says popping her head out just as fast as she popped in.

“Love birds? Jeez you’d think men and women can’t be just friends.” You scoff shaking your head looking at Steve who was turning red.

“Well… that’s Natasha for you.” He says kinda sounding awkward.

You continue, “She’s one to talk, have you seen the eyes her and Banner have been givin each other ? It’s gross.” You laugh.

“Yeah, we better get out there then…” He drifts seeming as if he wants to drop the conversation entirely.

“We should.” You say now feeling uneasy at Steve’s awkwardness, but decide to backtrack quickly before heading out of the room by saying, “ Hey listen, I still want you to think about what you want Steve. Really think about it and then just go for it!” You say emphasizing the word you.

“Thanks for this (Y/n), I think I have somewhat of a idea of what that is now.” He stares at you for a moment more, then looks away. Which surprisingly gave you butterflies because he had never looked at you that way before, it was different.

“Well- that, that was easy enough.” You fumble on your words before taking a deep breath and gaining your composure. “ Will you share with the class anytime soon?” You say trying to ignore the feeling as your face heats up.

“Maybe later.” He says with a sincere smile. “Sometimes it’s just nice to know I have people here for me.” He shoves his hands in his pocket and nods his head towards the doo. “Let’s go.”

“Of course Steve.” You nod feeling relived, that he was feeling better. You walk towards the door with him close behind. “Maybe we can set you up with a secret farm too.” You chuckle a bit.

“Oh shut up.” He says throwing his head back with a chuckle realizing you were what he needed.

“Do you like goats and stuff?” You laugh.

“(Y/n)!” He chuckles again as you both walk down the hallway into the living room where the meeting was being held.

Thoughts, Comments, or Opinions :)

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #one shot #Steve Rogers one shot

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bluerose5 · 3 years ago

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First Impressions (Part 1)

Word Count: 1,726

Rated T (Warnings for Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence)

Summary: What if, after receiving that call from Garrus while he was pinned down on Omega, Castis tries to track him down?

"Are you sure it was him?"

"I'm sure." Alec's smile turned mocking, the vitriol directed more towards himself. "I'm no Shadow Broker, but I still have my list of contacts here on the Citadel, even if it's dwindling by the seconds."

"Alec—"

"I don't need your pity, Castis." His smile fell, a subtle frown curling at the edges of his lips. "Besides, I'm doing this as a favor for a friend. Father to father. You know how it is."

"Yeah," Castis Vakarian sighed, "so I do."

It had been quite some time since the elder Vakarian graced the Citadel with his presence, but ever since he received that call...

"You finish up what you have to do there, and then you come on home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out."

Even now, the echoes of gunfire rang in his ears, but not as much as the resignation in Garrus’s voice.

"Target practice," Garrus had called it.

As if an experienced C-Sec officer with common sense couldn't tell the difference between target practice and an all-out gunfight.

Even now, Castis's chest tightened.

The thought of losing Garrus now, especially when his mother's condition wasn't showing any signs of improvement—

Castis couldn't stand the thought. He couldn't lose both his wife and his son all at once.

When Garrus never reported back, he had to do something. After he spoke with some old friends on the Citadel, Alec Ryder put out some feelers of his own at his friend's request. For a while, there was nothing.

Then, they got a hit.

The Normandy SR-2, arriving to the Citadel from Omega. A ship flagged by Citadel Control's security algorithms for having alleged ties to the pro-human extremist group known only as Cerberus.

It was under the command of no other than Commander Shepard.

Why was Castis not surprised?

Between his and Alec's contacts, they had been able to discern that there were indeed aliens listed as part of the ship’s crew. A surprising move, given the organization's history, but Castis was far from calling them friends. Just because they expanded recruitment beyond their own species did not make them allies.

Add in a Spectre miraculously back from the dead, and the whole situation reeked of trouble.

Alec agreed, so they approached the matter with caution.

Thankfully, Solana understood when Castis had to drop everything and go. All that she asked was that he return home with the knowledge that Garrus was safe. That's it.

Of course, that wasn't enough to satisfy him.

Castis knew that Garrus was alive now, but that wasn't enough.

The next time he and Alec were pinged, they received intel stating that Garrus was spotted poking around the shipping sector of Zakera Ward with Commander Shepard, seeking out a notorious forger. For what? Spirits only knew.

The only other info that they had was that there was a drell and a quarian accompanying them as well.

While they awaited positive IDs on those two, they continued following Garrus’s trail, questioning the loose-lipped volus who was more than happy to give up Fade's position after his lousy bodyguards wandered off for a break.

Eventually, they were led to Harkin's position. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that Garrus had already been there, what with the trail of bodies and mechs they left in their wake.

Seeing Harkin curled up on the floor, the bastard took one look up at them, then swore under his breath.

"Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me," he spat. "First your son, and now you? Haven't you Vakarians done enough?"

"Heh," Alec chuckled. "We're just getting started, tough guy."

Tapping at his omni-tool, Castis sent out an alert. While he dealt with Harkin, Alec approached the open console nearby, downloading all of its content, including the most recent call to a client.

"Have fun explaining yourself to C-Sec, Harkin, or is it Fade now?" Castis paused, crossing his arms over his chest as he peered down at him. "You can't resist making a fool of yourself for even a second, can you?"

"Hot take, coming from you." Harkin sneered. "You can't even keep that hot-headed son of yours on a leash. Bet C-Sec was glad to finally have his insubordinate ass off the force."

Castis saw red.

He took a step forward, but Alec's hand came down onto his shoulder, stopping him in his path.

"He's not worth it," Alec reminded him gently. As C-Sec swarmed the area, Alec jerked his chin in the direction of the door. "Come on. Let’s go find him before it's too late."

They strolled out together, heads ducked close and voices kept low.

"Did you find anything?" Castis asked.

"More than enough," Alec assured him. "Garrus is looking for a turian by the name of Lantar Sidonis."

"Can't say I've heard of him."

"Hmm..." Alec hummed thoughtfully to himself. "There was a location sent to set up a meeting. Orbital Lounge."

"Good work," Castis said, but Alec shrugged off the praise. "Let's go."

They stopped to make a quick change in a clothing store along the way. They got dressed in casual attire, posing as a couple of friends enjoying the sights.

By the time they made it to the lounge, Castis was already getting antsy. He struggled to maintain his cover, his eyes darting this way and that.

Alec elbowed him in the side.

"Calm down," he warned. He turned towards a random window display to glance over the selection of model ships. "Maintenance walkway above. Over your shoulder and to the right."

Castis snuck a peek as soon as he had the chance to.

He felt all of the blood drain from his face.

Turning quickly back towards the display, he hissed under his breath, "He has a rifle."

Alec shushed him before they could attract too much attention.

"I know, but do we really want to announce that little fact to the entire plaza?!" he whispered frantically.

Right.

Taking a deep breath, Castis composed himself. Usually, he wasn't this bad at remaining undercover, but the stakes were too high —too personal— to ignore.

It was hard to remain calm when your son was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Killing in a public place...

What happened to make him fall so far?

"I spotted someone up there with him," Alec said, breaking Castis of his reverie. "Shepard, maybe?"

Looking around at the crowd, Castis shook his head a moment later.

"No, not Shepard. Look. To your left."

Alec followed his line of sight, then ducked his head back down.

"Her, the quarian, and I'm assuming that's Sidonis," Alec said, counting them off one by one. "Which means that might be the drell up top with Garrus. A lookout, perhaps?"

"Hmph."

That was when Castis noticed the spotting laser.

His pupils narrowed into thin slits.

"No."

Alec stopped him again, stepping out in front of him with his hands spread wide.

"Wait, wait, wait," he ordered. "Let's see how this plays out first."

Castis turned on him with a glare.

"My son is about to commit a murder in plain sight, and you want me to wait?" he snapped.

"I want you to think clearly," Alec corrected. "Take another look at who the spotting laser is trained on."

Staring him down, Castis huffed impatiently, but quickly complied. They couldn’t afford to be stuck at an impasse at such a crucial moment.

One look was enough to clear up the image that had been blurred by emotion.

What in the—

"No." Castis shook his head in disbelief, but that didn't change what he was witnessing. "No, Garrus is too fond of the Commander. He wouldn't hurt her."

The conviction with which he spoke surprised even himself, but Garrus's attachment to Shepard was undeniable, as much as he was loath to admit it.

Even then, he couldn’t deny what was right there in front of him. The spotting laser was focused on the back of Commander Shepard’s skull, clear as day.

However, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

When Sidonis moved, Garrus followed him, but the Commander was instantly there to block his opening.

There were a few tense moments where words were exchanged, far too quiet to hear from where Alec and Castis were positioned. They went back and forth for a bit, and Castis admittedly feared for the worst when both Shepard and Sidonis started to leave.

The second Garrus had a clear shot at Sidonis, Castis held his breath.

But the shot never came.

"Well," Alec muttered, "that was anticlimactic."

Castis glared and punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"That's my son, Ryder."

With a grumble, Castis dragged Alec along. Their hunt wasn't over yet.

"You should meet mine. I feel like if Scott would've let him go, then he would have somehow managed to pull the trigger by accident. A real stroke of bad luck, that one."

"Spirits."

Strolling through the crowds, they laid low for as long as they could.

By the time they found Garrus again, he was talking with the others by a skycar terminal, presumably waiting on a cab.

A whole flood of emotions came crashing down on Castis at once, and there was no holding back. Not anymore.

Ignoring Alec's warnings not to do anything rash, Castis stormed off in their direction.

Insane how, after so many years of being friends, the N7 was only choosing now to try to be the voice of reason when Castis wanted to be anything but.

Out of everyone, the drell noticed him first, regarding him with suspicion.

Before he could warn him, Castis called out, "Garrus!"

The other three instantly froze, right before they turned to face him.

Garrus’s eyes widened, his mandibles falling slack as he gaped.

"Dad?"

"'Dad?!'" Shepard and the quarian echoed, shocked by such an unexpected turn of events.

The drell, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit perturbed.

"Ah, his father," he hummed, nodding in understanding. "Your presence in the lounge makes sense now."

Alec's brow furrowed.

"Hold up, you knew we were there?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call you two 'subtle.'"

"That doesn't matter!" Castis snapped.

Clenching his jaw, his mandibles were clamped down tight.

Time to get this meeting back on track.

"Garrus, we need to talk."

#mass effect trilogy #mass effect 2 #mass effect legendary edition #castis vakarian #alec ryder #garrus vakarian #commander shepard #femshep #thane krios #tali zora vas normandy #shakarios #polyamorous aliens #my writing #my fanfic

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1oserjk · 5 years ago

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— full stop | 03

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

a series.

a messy divorce, unrequited feelings, and a five year old.

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

02 ⇋ 04

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

shit is 16k .. sry

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full stop | 03: unhappy birthday

Hyejin has always been a ball of fury when you poked at the wrong buttons on her. But something about Jungkook and the aftermath of the divorce has made her even more apprehensive of the man, and you can only do so much to shift her opinions elsewhere.

“Fuck him over. Somehow, someway — just do it.”

You choke.

Eyes widening, sputtering out, “H-Hyejin..”

“I’m not kidding,” she deadpans, already rolling up her sleeves, “How many times do I have to tell you that fucker will never learn?”

A hand comes up, “Okay wait.” You pause. “Are we going to collectively forget Jungkook is my daughter’s father?”

Her head shakes. “Not relevant—and also hard for me to care when it comes to him.”

You exhale, eyes fluttering closed and palms resting flat on her kitchen table. “Look, I know he’s not the most liked between everybody right now. But, I can’t just tell him no.. That’s not fair.”

“But there’s boundaries,” she points and argues, then prompts, “What kind of outcome does he expect when he goes out with the one person who caused most of the mess two years ago.”

Your eyes roll back. “She took a micro-portion of it.”

“Her presence was still there and highly significant if I'm judging from most of the nights you came to me for!”

“Hyejin.” You glare.

“And don’t even try to do That Thing where you deduce your own valid feelings and assume everybody else’s choices and actions are reasonable when it’s clearly not!” You glare and she blatantly ignores it, waving you off, “And I know you’re keeping everything within yourself for the sake of being a better co-parent, or whatever fucking advice you read in the facebook group you’ve recently planted yourself in, but god. I’m mad, anyone would be mad, so let me be mad for you.”

“No one is going to be mad about this,” you finally decide. “There’s nothing to be mad about. He is his own person and he can make his own decisions.” She pins her stare at your nails that you pick at. You feel it. “Even if it means going out with someone younger, more exciting, who prances around with a pen in her hand as if she’s really doing something useful all the fucking time for whatever goddamn reason. I could care less,” you can’t help but mutter under your breath shortly after.

“Ha!” One of her acrylics poke at you and you flinch. “You are mad.”

You groan out loudly. “I’m not mad,” you exasperate. “All I’m saying is for him to have at least decent taste if he’s going to date. Not someone so expectant after a divorce.”

Her eyes narrow.

“But that’s not the point,” you make sure to add right after. Fingers run through your hair and you sigh. “Look,” you ease gently. “I’m trying to be alright in this, okay? The last thing I want to do is stomp in like a madwoman and refuse a relationship that would’ve happened sooner or later.”

Of course, she disagrees. “God,” she stands, grabbing both of your mugs and heading to the sink. “You’re turning into one of those Milf’s that stand by to live, laugh, and love—it’s grossing me out.”

Your ears perk at attention and you smile smugly. “You think I’m a Milf?”

“Shut up. You’re flattered.” She turns it on to soak both of your cups before the coffee sticks. “I only dropped by to tell you that it’s okay to freak out once in a while.”

The only reason she’s been keening on you to go apeshit in front of your ex-husband, was the frantic phone call you left on the night of ditching Jungkook in your own kitchen. Being that she was here now, claiming that Kiumin ached for a playdate with Yeona, when in reality, her only goal was to scold you for not swinging at the doll Jungkook pranced around with as of late.

She puts a hand on her hip and leans towards the counter. “Turning to corny coping mechanisms like following a Bob Ross tutorial isn’t going to fix your rage you’ve been pushing down.”

“Okay, but that’s only because Jungkook still has some of his supplies laying around and the only thing I could come up with was painting a fucking sunset. Sue me,” you defend, throwing your arms up. “Besides, you weren’t there to see him, Hyejin. He was getting out of his office for once, smiling even, a-and it was different. A good different, and..” You’re completely at a loss, mouth opening, then shutting back closed, because what was even the point.

“..You don’t want to take that away from him,” she finishes, a tilt to her head and a consoling expression gracing her features.

“Exactly,” you exhale. “I can’t even be mad that she’s actually getting him out there, taking him to things that didn’t involve work. Something I couldn’t even do-“

“Hey, no,” she stops you, head firmly shaking. “No, you don’t get to do that. You were there and present, even on the days you were close to giving up before you actually did — you were there, trying your absolute hardest, clinging onto what he barely gave you. You were never the problem, okay?”

You meekly nod, tired eyes on her when she takes a firm hold of both of your hands.

She makes it clear, saying, “As a wife and a mother, you were always there and that is something nobody can take away from you.”

“I know,” you confess. “I’m just in a weird position right now, and I’m stressed out from it. Not mad—stressed.”

“And you don’t have to be, alright?” She shakes on your shoulder. “I know I insisted on breaking some plates and screaming, but hearing you out, I’m sure you would rather stray from the subject as a whole.”

“Please.”

“Alright. I’ll get out of your hair for now, and if I come up with something to do for us that doesn’t involve egging someone’s car—“

“Hyejin!”

“—then I’ll let you know.”

You huff out a breath and finally stand, entering into her arms she spans out. “I’ll always be worried about you, babe.”

“I know,” you mumble, “And I’ll keep telling you I’m fine every single time you ask.” She pinches your side that earns a loud yelp from you and a hiss of pain a second later.

“Love you.”

“Always,” you promise and then remind, “Please save some space for Yeona’s birthday that’s coming up, and be prepared for any phone-calls beforehand of me crying because my baby’s growing up and I have no control to slow down time for it.”

“Ah, that’s right,” she says. “Tell me if you need any help planning, alright?”

“Of course.”

“Kiumin, baby,” she calls out, heading towards the living space, “Buddy, let’s go. We gotta get home before dinnertime.”

Both of your children are on the floor, several toys in front of them and a television with brightly lit characters and colors that did not have to be at a high-volume as it was right now.

“Aw,” the little boy pouts, “Okay.” He turns to your daughter and waves hesitantly.

“Bye Kiumin,” Yeona yells out, clambering across the floor to get a hug. Short arms wrap around tiny figures and it’s absolutely adorable. Your eyes can sense a hint of red on Kiumin’s cheeks when your daughter’s hands tug tightly onto his. “See you soon, maybe.” She shrugs.

“Don’t worry, Yeonie,” Hyejin promises. “We’ll meet up again soon.”

At that, Yeona nods enthusiastically and shuffles herself forward for another hug directed towards your best friend. “Bye, aunt Hyejin.” She receives a soft pat to her head.

“Be safe on the way home,” you order.

They make their leave swiftly, and it finally gives you time to properly breathe—and think for a long while.

Tiny fingers pinch the paper in between them, a determination set in her eyes as she excitedly jumps around in her seat. “It’s done,” she announces.

Your eyes resemble a wink when you squint at her, sun shining way too brightly for it to be this early in the morning. It practically reflects Yeona’s attitude in starting the day like this, while you sit pathetically in an oversized shirt and coffee in hand.

Taking the time in the morning for yourself was barely a thing, especially when it came to your daughter and her way too early sleep schedule her school had willed her on.

Instead of sleeping in, you’re dealt with Yeona already being wide-eyed in her bed, making grabby hands at the toys in her bedroom you’ve put the time in cleaning up on the floor from the night before.

Even staying home in her matching sweats her father had gifted her, she would still request her hair up and out of her face for the rest of the day. So, you’d be taking fifteen minutes to slick her hair up in her choice of a ponytail or pigtails instead of preciously sleeping in. Even right after, she’d become hungry, wanting breakfast to go along with her cartoons she had downloaded on her tablet.

Which was perfectly fine, you’d be up soon anyway, so it would be better overall to just start the day off a bit earlier. It would only just leave you a bit off-looking and disoriented in the things you’d do for yourself.

Years back, when Yeona was younger and you were still married, the routine was easier and much steadier when you would tag-team in getting ready for the day, passing off your daughter after one task would be done for the other and it would be your own turn for yours.

At first, it left you frazzled when you were alone most days, but now, since the separation has settled in, it’d been okay for the most part. It just meant that some of the things and time you put aside for yourself were sacrificed, and that you would have to save your self care routine for later in the night when Yeona would flutter her eyelashes closed for slumber.

You excitedly clap a few times and reach eagerly. “Can I see?”

Yeona’s birthday was reaching close and for most of them, you would be able to know exactly what she’d want for that particular year. Normally, it would be a themed party of whatever she had been obsessed with at that time, and obviously the gifts you would drown her in. Last year went with a breeze. You were glad at that time when most of the conflict between you and Jungkook had faded when the time came, solely focusing on your daughter and that was it. But now, with the way things had left between the two of you recently, you were worried it wouldn’t be the same as this year.

Yeona had declared she wanted something different this year and decided that she’d write it all out in a list. Still unsure and a bit confused, you complied and set out her supplies for her to take over on the paper. It was only fifteen minutes after she claimed that she was finished.

Leaning towards her paper, you expected it to be drowned in color and design, taking the same artistic habits as her father. But to no avail, it was left blank.

Your brows furrow. “I thought you were done?”

She nods. “I am!”

“So.. Where—“ You awkwardly left off, wondering if she was hiding it beneath the table or behind her back. She giggles when you curiously dip your head under the tabletop.

“In here,” she points. A single finger pokes at her head and she proudly smiles before explaining, “The list is in my head! If you read all of it at once, then it wouldn’t be fun, so I’ll tell Mommy the first thing now and the rest for later.”

Your mouth opens in a sound of realization, and your eyes glint at how clever she became. “So,” you excitedly lean towards her more, landing a soft peck on her forehead. “What does my baby want for her birthday?”

“No party,” she firstly says with a firm shake to her head.

Your eyes widened. “No party?” Since the beginning, it’s always been one.

“Nope.” Her lips purse out with a crinkle to her nose. “Mommy,” she says, eyes twinkling. “I’m growing, so big girls don’t have parties.”

You hum, “Is that so?”

She nods dramatically.

“So what would you want this year?”

“I would like to ask if we could have my birthday at Uncle Jin and Joonie’s beach house.”

Your brows shoot up. “That’s all the way in Jeju..”

She nods. “We could all take the ferry!” Then, she pouts. “We never go on the ferry.”

Her idea runs through your mind for a few seconds before theorizing with her, mindlessly murmuring to yourself, “We could take the one in Busan and visit Grandma and Grandpa on the way..” You were sure they would want to see Yeona on the day of her birthday.

Her eyes brighten when she picks up on your mumbles, grappling your wrist and shaking it, “Yes, Mommy! We’ll take everybody, like, Daddy’s co-workers and Kiumin!”

It seems that you were already confirming the idea instead of considering it, though it all seemed like a perfect idea that wouldn’t take a lot of effort or stress. You can already imagine the small gathering for the weekend getaway, already knowing how much the others would like some time off, especially the guys that would always be cooped up in the suffocated shop filled with needles and ink. It would be a nice way of switching a few things up and catching up with the rest of the inner circle you’ve accumulated from the time of being with Jungkook.

“Well,” you start, “Let me have a conversation with your Daddy and then maybe,” you halt when she begins to turn giddy, “Maybe it will happen. But he’s going to have to ask Uncle Jin and Joon if it’s alright, so it's honestly up to them to decide..”

“Okay,” she quickly obliges, confidence set in her tone and smile, telling you that she was completely sure of her idea and their compliance to it.

“Of course!”

Jungkook’s head drops down in embarrassment while you sit across from him, mouth almost gaping.

“S-Seokjin,” you sputter. “You barely even gave it a few seconds to think about.”

He shakes a hand back and forth, “Why would I need to?”

“You can’t just..“ You lead off hopelessly. Turning to the lanky man next to him, you raise a brow. “Namjoon?”

“Fine by me,” he says over a mouthful of noodles, “We barely even use the house, anyway.”

“O-Okay, but-“

“We should go a week before the date to check up on it,” Seokjin suggests to Namjoon.

“You’re right, just in case anything is out of place,” he replies.

“The fireplace should be okay, right? I heard it rained last weekend.”

And then they fall into their own conversation, leaving you and Jungkook, the real parents in this situation — silent.

“I guess.. It’s happening?” You squeak out. The expensive couch sits uncomfortably on your bum, and you grow sweaty from being left to bask in the tension between the man across from you. It’s awkward, almost dragging on since you’ve entered the flat and sat down with Jungkook.

You were thankful at first, when Seokjin had butted in the conversation, boyfriend in tow.

The last time you’ve encountered your ex-husband, were only the past few weeks of dropping off Yeona on his days off, stoically handing her to him and running off until you would have to pick her up again.

It was childish, you knew that. You knew it exactly when you turned your back to him and completely shut him out three weeks ago. But at this point, it was the only way you were able to cope with however you were feeling about him, and simmering down most of your anger. But seeing that you would have to deal with him sooner rather than later, being that Yeona’s birthday was coming up, you were reluctantly willing to face him.

“Yeah, I don’t think we have a choice,” he chuckles, palms nervously rubbing against his knees. A small part of you is definitely basking in the way he squirms under your scrutiny.

“It’s fine,” you say, “This was the biggest part of Yeona’s list, anyway. She really wanted this.”

He offers a quirk to his lips, and your heart immediately seizes, having to force yourself to stop looking at him so obnoxiously. It’s gross, really, how you’ve managed to be so affected by him - good or bad, since the very start.

A throat clears, and it’s Namjoon, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other on Seokjin’s lower back. You grow curious if he noticed. “Tell Yeona we can have her birthday at our house in Jeju.”

“Thank you, really—to you both. She really wanted this, and for you guys to be there too.”

“Of course, we’ll send a message to the rest that they’re invited.”

With a smile, you stand and wrap your arms around both of them on your way out. “Thank you, again,” you can’t help but repeat. They only chuckle in your tight grasp that clearly proved how grateful you were to them.

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Jungkook offers when he stands.

You shake your head, “It’s alright. I took a bus here.”

“Then, I’ll drive you back.”

“Jungkook, no, it’s okay-“

Already disappearing into his room, he makes a grab for his jacket and shoes to head out.

Seokjin chuckles when you whip around to face back the both of them, “Stubborn.”

You’re breathless when you repeat in stress, “Yeah.”

“Have a good night, _____.” Namjoon and Seokjin simultaneously wave, sending you both out the door. You embarrassingly let out a light laugh, waving back and wishing the same for them.

You rush to the side of Jungkook when they disappear.

Nobody talks, even until you’ve reached his car, unlocking the doors and allowing you to slip in the passenger side.

He got the vehicle shortly after finalizing his move out of the house, offering the one you previously shared and owned. You didn’t have much of a choice when he slipped the keys in your hand and left shortly after without any argument. You were more nervous that if you pushed more for him to take it, he’d go out and buy you a new one the next day.

For Jungkook driving the sleek black car everyday, it practically seems unused, leather seats still having that particular smell and everything still being tidy around it. Then again, Yeona is now older and less messy than before.

Everything in the car is so exactly him, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it.

After buckling up and properly settling in, he slides the keys in the slot, leaving you to stare at the hanging car accessory up at the rearview mirror.

It’s a picture of you and Yeona, laid out on the floor. You remember the memory clearly, Yeona declaring a tickle fight and sprawling out on the floor for a fair match. Even with Yeona sat on top of you, it seemed that you were winning in the game with how her head was thrown back and a wide grin on her face, you could practically hear the squeal she was letting out in the picture.

He still had it.

For a second, you smile back at it.

You barely even notice the car already moving and him asking the question, “Why didn’t you drive?”

Your head flicks to him, and your eyes stay right at his jaw when he makes a smooth turn. You shrug, “It was nearby, I didn’t mind.”

“You should’ve told me,” he says, “I would have come home instead of you travelling all this way for me.”

Home. He still called it home, like it’d be any day now for him to return to it, that this was all a temporary fix until everything would get less foggy.

“It’s fine,” you pass off. “I didn’t think you would see the offer as worthy since Yeona is at my mom’s place right now.”

His head shakes, turning away from the road to catch your eyes for a split second. “I don’t need any reason to see you, _____. Just tell me, and I’ll be there.” It’s with vigour and promise, you almost turn flustered.

You let out a small scoff before looking down at your hands. “If you said that a long time ago, we would’ve still been married,” you joke, though it comes out bitter. “Thanks for the offer, though,” you sarcastically add.

The car suddenly halts and you look up, the red traffic light flashes in front of you.

Jungkook shuts his eyes before tiredly letting out a sigh.

You grow anxious, looking out the window from the side. Some of the restaurants and shops are surprisingly still open and you focus on the windows with bright lighting inside of the buildings. Friends and couples are eating out, some are laughing, and you wonder what some of their conversation consisted of. You surmise it’s something foolish when one of them throws their head back in a fit of laughter.

Your hands grip each other when a pair from the opposite side of your vision pucker up and kiss. It turns personal way too quickly and you immediately feel like you're intruding, grateful that the light turns green and you finally move away from the intimate image, wondering if you would ever get close to that phase of your life again.

The silent minute brings you to announce abruptly, “We’re going to take the ferry in Busan instead of here, so that she would be able to see your parents before leaving.”

“Sounds fine,” he replies. “My mother would like that.”

You nod.

“What about yours?” He suggests.

You sigh, head hitting the headrest of the seat softly. “Another detox trip. They said they would send her a birthday card before they would leave. Probably why they’re spending as much time with her as they can before they leave.”

Even with eyes on the road, he still seems to be listening intently. He hesitates a few seconds before asking, “How’s your dad?”

You send him a smile, the least you could do before answering, “Still hates you.”

He snorts. “Yeah,” he says, “I figured.”

You swallow tightly and decide to ask, “How’s settling with Seokjin?” It’s been a couple of years, but still, it all still feels new and something you haven’t gotten around to asking ever since.

He hums, “It’s quiet most of the time since he’s at Namjoon’s nearly everyday..”

“The place is practically yours then,” you attempt to joke again, but it comes out as hardly, not exactly comfortable to throw that specific tone around.

He shrugs. “Wish he would let me pay more than half of the rent, but it’s tolerable.”

“Are you ever planning to get your own place soon?”

“Huh,” he thinks. “Haven’t put much thought into it.”

“Well, if you ever do, I can always help out,” you quietly suggest and he takes a quick glimpse at you to see if you were actually being serious.

“Really?”

You nod. “Yeah. I actually think it would be cool for Yeona to have a second room at your place. So it’s home over there for her as it is with me.”

Another red light, and his eyes blink close for a moment. The conversation is going too fast and all of a sudden, it starts to hurt.

Jungkook doesn’t want another home, a place that reads that he is officially separated from you and out of his reach, not when it doesn’t include you in it.

It would hurt him even more if you would egg it on, support him and the move away from you, like you would want him to, and maybe you really did. He would understand why. Still, it hurts when you talk so freely like this, seemingly eager to get rid of him.

Jungkook doesn’t voice his disagreement, avoiding talking at all and keeping his mouth closed instead.

The conversation falls off after that, and he most likely figured that would be the most he got out of you for the rest of the car ride.

That was until you spoke up again.

It was quiet, almost barely heard, and it’s said quickly. “You can invite her, you know?”

His fingers unknowingly grip on the steering wheel.

You look back down. “I don’t mind and I don’t want you to think that I’ll hold you back from doing so.”

They want to reach out, grasp for your hands you keep fiddling with, scold you for biting on your lip too harshly, everything he used to do, he wanted to fall back and do it all at once.

They keep clinging to the wheel.

“I was mad back then,” you guiltily admit and he immediately shakes his head.

“You had every right to be.”

“I probably looked silly for being so mad on something I have no control over.” You move your eyes back over the window and the blurry images that pass by solemnly. “Especially when everything’s been said and done with, right?” You turn to him and he gulps. His heart drops at how quick and firm you said, as if it was that easy.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly.

“Maybe this is a learning curve for us,” you nod to yourself. “So, I’m open to having her with us this year.”

He had no idea why you were so sure that everything between Seol and himself were solid enough to introduce her as his girlfriend, fuck, even he wasn’t sure he could spit the word out himself.

Everything was going by way too fast, too much to process.

He only nods, clinging onto actions rather than words to speak for him.

His throat clears and the car slows down to a clear stop. You peak over his head and find your house already being presented as the car decreases in speed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” is all he says.

“Well,” your buckle releases and you slide out onto the edge of the seat, already gripping onto the handle. You offer him a smile. “Thanks, Jungkook.”

The door opens and he stiffly nods and doesn’t pull out of his spot until his own two eyes have watched your figure disappear into the entrance of the house.

“Did you double-check that you have everything?”

She nods.

“Okay, then I think we’re ready.” You clap, zipping up the rest of your bags.

She can’t even stand still with her excitement, having to run around at times when it got too much.

Ever since the beginning of planning this weekend trip, you surprisingly had a lot of time on your hands from the immense help of everybody else who volunteered to plan. You were glad that they reached out, but you also became antsy at the fact you had no control over the outcome of this gathering. In anything that Yeona wanted, you strived to make sure it would happen with reasonability. Being away from most of the planning had left you anxious on most days, wondering what Seokjin would be pulling under his sleeve on Yeona’s celebration.

“Here.” You hand her backpack to her, silently ushering her to turn around so you could slip it through her arms. “Sit on the couch and watch your show for now. Your father will be here soon to pick us up.”

She complies easily, shuffling towards the cushioned chair.

Before she becomes too absorbed in the cartoon, you ask a mindless theory for her to answer, “If Daddy shows up with a friend—that is a girl.. You’ll be nice, right?”

Her head tilts and her brows crease. “Girl—friend?”

Your fingers tighten against the hem of your sundress. “M-Maybe? I’m not sure, he hasn’t told me a lot about her..”

“That’s not right,” she notes. “Daddy should tell Mommy so she knows..”

You send her a softened smile that holds a sad shift in it. “Not this time, baby.” You look down at your hands. “Just be nice to her, okay?”

She only nods.

You brush off your knees when you stand back up, moving back towards your room to grab whatever else you might’ve forgotten and rush through most of your makeup bag to fix yourself up a bit.

You debated a few times in your head to switch up your dress for another one in your bag. Usually, you never cared, but this time, oddly, you wanted to satisfy more than yourself with the way you currently looked and dressed as - for whatever reason you cannot decipher as. But having to change, you would also have to switch out Yeona’s dress since you both decided to match today.

You decided not to bother since it would take too much time, especially since you hear the buttons being pressed at your front door, buzzing when the code punches in and indicating that Jungkook was finally here.

You quickly pull and clip on a necklace that was mindlessly set on your bedside table, and rush out the room with your bags.

When both of them come into view, you already see Yeona attached to Jungkook’s hip. No one else.

“Hey,” you breathlessly greet with a nod, trying not to seem blunt by focusing on the front door to see if a certain person tagged alone. “I hope this isn’t too much—? I cut down most of it last night..”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it,” then looks down at the bags, “But—uh, are you sure you need all of this? It’s only a couple of days.”

“Yeah, but,” you hesitate, pushing some strands of your hair away, “It’s clothes, swimsuits, sunscreen, shower products, presents—“

“Presents?” Yeona brightens.

“No,” You and Jungkook rush.

“Mommy meant something else..”

“Oh.” Her expression flattens. “Then what did she mean?” She presses.

Jungkook’s mouth gapes and he attempts to spit out an answer before you boisterly interrupt, “Oh no! We’re running late.”

He nods comically when he meets eyes with you. “Y-You’re right! Let me take your bags,” he offers.

You practically shove them into his hands when you switch positions, taking Yeona into your own and softly letting her down.

When you stand up straight, he eyes the both of you in awe when he notices.

“You’re both matching.”

You grow heated under his gaze and shyly nod, straightening out the flimsy skirt of your dress. “She’s been hounding me to get a mini size for her when I wear mine, so this was her first gift from me.”

Her tiny hands cling onto your fingers and squeezes them, “Yup! We wanted to look pretty for Daddy.”

You practically choke out a small cough at her statement as he arches a brow towards you, your cheeks dusting a shade of embarrassment immediately.

“T-There was no set intent for doing this exactly,” you defend with a growing pout before you childishly point at Yeona and sputter, “It was her idea and I just went with it.”

He chuckles, encouraging the dusty rose to spread to your ears and neck. “Well,” he starts and confirms, “You both look beautiful.” He’s already turning away and moving towards the door before you can react. “I’ll compliment you more when we get in the car, but we should hurry.”

You both scurry in front of him, and a firm hand lands on the small of your back to lead you out. Whipping around slightly, you turn surprised from the mere gesture.

A certain feeling washes over you — it’s nostalgic, almost drowning you from the blunt force when his fingers land on only the thin material that separates your skin from his. For a second, it feels like what it has always been.

Even as false pretense or even reassurance, you bask in the feeling you can only assume is melancholy and warmth, all at the same time. It’s bittersweet, but it’s something and it’s clearly there.

He offers a smile, and it’s not a polite one you usually send each other when you would interact, it’s not a forced one either. It was genuine, and it was towards you.

A smile that read this weekend would be a memorable one, like all of the other birthdays you celebrated each year.

For a split second, you feel like a family again.

The door clicks shut and you finally all head out to fulfill Yeona’s birthday journey.

“God,” he rubs at his shoulder that aches. “What did you pack in here to make me feel like this four floors down?”

Rolling your eyes, your daughter’s leg brushes against you when it kicks up for the minute of buckling her up. You don’t bother asking her to stop, silently allowing her to start playing with your hair when you lean over the other side of her carseat. You adjust her sandals while you’re at it. “We took the elevator, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“You weren’t the one carrying it,” he argues, shutting the trunk closed.

Finally finished with making sure Yeona would ride safely in the backseat, you recover your crouched form and rise. “You offered.”

He sighs, hands on his hips, and a smile creeping on his face he managed to halt before your eyes would land on them. “You never answered my question.”

Both of you make it to the front of the car and slip in, shutting the car doors simultaneously in coincidence.

You wave a hand in dismissal before reaching up for the seatbelt. “It’s a few gifts for your mother. She really liked the scent of the apartment when she last visited, so I packed a few candles of the ones I’ve been using.”

“A few?” He scoffs, pinning you a look. The car begins to run when he slides the key in the slot. He has a hard time believing in your estimate of the amount you were bringing when he picks up weights on a regular basis at the gym, not boasting when he clearly can’t help mentioning it every now and then. There were way more than a few.

You hesitate, observing him shift the gear and backing the car up and out of the parking space. “Fine, I slipped in a few more for Seokjin,” you confess and it’s clear that he has a smug smirk carrying his expression. “Only because he asked,” you huff.

A light chuckle slips out and his fingers on the center console almost twitch when he hears you let one out also.

You abruptly turn towards the backseat. “Yeonie? Please turn down your tablet.” It Had been ringing in both of your ears since you got in the car. You wanted to have a proper conversation without having to scream out your words over the rhymes and overplayed sound-effects.

When she does, you finally sigh and lean back in pure exhaustion from the lack of sleep the night before.

Jungkook notices.

“You okay?” He asks.

Your eyes flutter open slowly and you nod. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, so I’m dealing with the repercussions of it.” Your gaze on the road soon turns blank.

If you were being honest, it’s been a long time in dealing with enough sleep. If you were in bed, you were most likely staying up, keeping yourself busy, not deeming it as a good enough reason to sleep just yet. Before, you slept easily, paying no mind to what was happening around you, you actually slept. Something changed to the point where you weren’t granted that access anymore, having to question the exact reason on why you should even sleep. You weren’t sure if you would find it, sticking with just coaxing yourself into slumber through most nights.

“You can take a nap if you want,” he suggests. “It’s going to take a while before we get there, so you might as well.”

You hum absentmindedly, barely registering any of his words if you were being honest.

Yeona yawns. He shifts his attention to the back, watching Yeona squirm for a comfortable spot - as comfortable as she can get - in her carseat. “Are you sleepy too, baby?”

She mewls out a tired noise in confirmation and leans her head to the padded side of hers. “Daddy, sing to me,” she requests, blinking, lagging until they fully close.

Jungkook’s soft hums fill up the noise of the car other than the white noise surrounding you when he drove.

Your eyes go back to closing when it hits you, a metaphorical blanket that deems where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with — as safe. Your brows furrow unconsciously at the thought that you’ve been dealing with this specific problem about your sleep for God knows how long, but Jungkook suddenly fixes it and now it’s all gone.

You finally sleep.

An hour into the drive and you suddenly ask, “Is she.. Driving on her way too?”

His eyebrows furrow and he turns to stare at you, disoriented by the question. “Who?”

You eye him wearily and tip your head forward, like it was obvious.

He’s still confused.

“Seol?” You finally spit out.

“Oh.”

That’s all he says and you grow impatient. “So?”

“She’s not coming,” he finally answers. “I didn’t invite her. Why would you think I would?”

“She wasn’t in the car when you picked us up, or at the house, so I just assumed..”

“No,” he quickly denies, looking you in the eye this time. “She’s not coming.”

“Oh—okay.” You wonder why.

It’s silent except for when his throat clears and he turns the car.

“Um,” you drag unsurely. “Are you.. Still—seeing each other?” It’s personal, and you regret asking, but for the sake of your bouncing leg and bated breath, you wait.

“I—I don’t know? I mean we’re going out, but it’s not anything official.” He looks nervous, eyes shifting back and forth from one side of a street to another.

“So.. You haven’t asked her to be your girlfriend yet?”

This is weird. Too fucking weird and now Jungkook’s acutely uneasy because there is absolutely no malice in your voice. Just curiousness being unravelled.

“No, not really,” he nervously stammers, and he tries his best to gauge your reaction but you hold absolutely nothing to read on. “I want to decide carefully.” You suddenly stare back at him and he has no choice but to continue, “Like you said. I want to make sure it’s right. No fuck-ups anymore. Not with you or Yeona.”

Your head shakes. “Jungkook, you don’t have to-“

“It’s my decision,” he firmly states, “and it’s on my terms.”

Jungkook’s mother was always a bright soul who greeted and welcomed you with open arms.

The first time you were off to meet her, you were twenty-three years old and absolutely terrified, and you made sure to tell Jungkook that before you even stepped foot in the house he grew up in.

You informed him how much bad luck you came with when it involved meeting your partner’s parents. More specifically — your past boyfriends and their overly clingy mothers who did not like you no matter what you did, as long as you were dating their son.

“My mom loves everyone,” Jungkook explained previously the night before the anticipated meeting.

You shook your head vigorously, eyes wide and anxious, shivering from having the thought of reliving something you always dreaded. “That’s what they all say before we end up arriving and then all of a sudden I’m being pounced on by an overbearing mother who obviously can’t stand the thought of having another woman in her son’s life.”

He laughed. “Your exes were probably an only child,” and then continued to inform as if it would ease your nerves, “I have an older brother.”

You shrieked. “Holy shit, that makes it even worse because you’re her youngest. The baby of the family—her baby.” He cackled and you landed a solid strike at his arm with a whine, “Jungkook, Take me serious.”

“Alright, okay,” he shushed you and tugged at your hips before closing in on you. “I can assure you that my mother isn’t some type of villain you’ve painted out in your head.”

You winced and patted his chest with a pout, “Sorry. Past minor trauma.”

“I get it,” he reassured. “But she’s different than the rest, I promise.”

And she definitely was.

The house fills with a scent of something cooking on the stove top and it immediately engulfs you in warmth when you hear the television going off in the spacious area of the living room, assuming it was Jungkook’s father planted on his signature chair he was always found in.

When Yeona finally kicks off her shoes, she immediately runs through the house to find her grandmother.

“Careful,” Jungkook calls from next to you.

He notices your dazed state and takes a step closer. “How are you feeling? Still tired?”

Your mouth falls open and you shake your head with a smile, brushing it off, “My head is aching a bit from the long car ride, but I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll sit down for a few.”

He shows concern in his expression and leans forward to inspect you carefully. “Come here.”

“I told you I’d be okay, Gguk. I’m fine.” Still, your feet take you closer towards him until calloused fingers land at your temples before applying pressure. “Mm,” you let out in surprise, lips pressed when he goes in circular motions against your skin, grappling onto one of his wrists for support. Your eyes flutter shut when the pain starts to subside. Four fingers each from both hands are firmly planted while his two thumbs continue to ease the throbbing that’s been planted in your head since you’ve gotten out of the car.

“Starting to feel better?” He murmurs softly.

You nod with the space he provided for it. “I still think I should just take some medicine.”

He doesn't stop his ministrations, only humming. “In a minute. Want to avoid my mom a bit longer before she starts to ask why I haven’t been visiting lately.”

A smile quickly settles on your lips and you squeeze at the wrist you’ve been gripping on.

It’s up close when he sees you softly giggle and his heart surges forward. Your eyes open back up and you’re suddenly staring at such a close proximity.

“She worries about you.”

“I know,” he promises. “Just not sure what to say when she starts interrogating me.”

Before your mouth can slip in an answer, a throat clears and you tense immediately.

You both stiffly turn towards the new figure in the room who raises an amused brow.

“Uh, hi Mom. Where’s Yeona?”

“With your father.”

You remember suddenly before coughing and tugging at Jungkook’s hands that stay planted against your head.

“We were just..” Jungkook attempts, wiping off his palms that have gotten significantly clammy in the span of a minute or two.

“Headache,” you finish and state for him.

“Yeah.”

“Did we go back in time before medicine was a thing?” She jokes then tilts her head towards the direction of one of the bathrooms. “There’s painkillers in the medicine cabinet.”

“Uh I’m going to.. Yeah.” Jungkook scratches at the back of his neck and seems unsure before seeing himself out to grab for the bottle of pills.

“Please, don’t give me that look,” you beg once the embarrassment settles in and your cheeks start to warm up.

“No, I’m just happy is all.” She smiles in satisfaction. “Last time I checked, you were divorced to my son.”

You groan. “And I still am.”

“Then what was that?” She refers back to the scene she had unfortunately walked in on.

“A ploy to drag out time before hearing your questions about why he hasn’t been visiting as often as he should be,” you easily tattle.

She gasps.

Jungkook walks back in with two bottles in hand, eyes bouncing back and forth to each one. “It doesn’t matter which brand right? I brought out two just in case-“

“Jeon Jungkook,” his mother scowls.

He freezes and looks up to his infuriated mother, then pointedly looks at you before the gears turn in his head.

“You told her?”

You simply shrug and snatch both bottles away before his mother would start shifting her target towards him. “Thank you.”

You don’t bother to hear the scolding, instead, walking through the house to find where your daughter had drifted off to.

Mrs. Jeon takes some time to catch up with her son and gives you enough to rest from the prolonged car ride.

Small feet tap on the wooden floor and you try to search for the doe eyes and pouty lips that come with them.

“Yeona, where have you been?”

“With grandpa!” Then, she enthusiastically stomps. “He said my gifts are hiding from me.”

You chuckle. “Is that so?”

A bigger pair of feet walk in and Mr. Jeon looks flustered, as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to do. His head angles down to Yeona and he explains, “I messed up! I was supposed to wait for Grandma to feed you guys before I said anything about birthday presents.”

Your mouth opens to reply that he was perfectly fine before large hands settle firmly on your shoulders. You squeak and jump, registering that it was only Jungkook when you whip around to face the culprit. “Seriously?”

“It’s payback,” he simply says. “I got scolded for fifteen minutes all because you decided to be a snitch.”

“Sorry.” You softly nudge. “She was assuming too much when she saw us.”

“Ah,” he realizes, and he suddenly seems okay with the thought of going down just for you. “I’ll have to talk to her again about doing that. Sorry.”

You dismiss it with a smile. “Just more worried about you. Poor baby,” you tease. “What? Did she make you face the wall for five minutes?” He scowls. “Jungkook, she misses you,” you reason.

“I know,” he mumbles. “I promised her I would be here more often.”

He has that look in his eye you are way too familiar with — when the gears start turning and he begins to overthink his whole entire schedule for the month, figuring out the time-slots—if he even has any free space for it.

“Hey,” you call, and he snaps out of it. “Don’t try to fill your family in your schedule as if they’re appointments. You’ll visit when you want to, okay? Not because you have to.”

He exhales and nods. “Right. I will.”

He then notices your features significantly brighter than the last time he’s taken them in, no more fatigued, so he asks, “Did you take the medicine?”

You nod. “I just took it, but moving around a bit is helping a lot already.

“That’s good.”

His brows furrow when he catches the expression on his dad. “Is he okay?”

You turn and observe him tailing your hyper daughter who has been checking every crevice of the house for any mere glimpse of eye-catching wrapping paper.

“Like father, like son,” is all you say and he stares on with no clue. “He’s literally a second away from hearing his own scolding.”

Mrs. Jeon walks in and shrieks. “You told her already—?!”

The man beside you sighs and questions out loud what on earth his father had done.

So, you explain, “They put on a scavenger hunt for Yeona’s gifts. Except, it was supposed to be after lunch.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah.”

“You were supposed to wait so that I could take pictures for it!”

The older man’s hands get thrown up in defense. “She hasn’t found them yet, it’s fine.”

“What if she actually does?” She tests with a brow raised.

“Mom,” Jungkook calls and both of his parents finally turn to give him attention. “It’s alright. We can do the scavenger hunt now since we’ll be leaving soon.”

“You aren’t going to stay and eat?”

“Please don’t worry,” you kindly decline. “I’d feel bad if you were to cook something, just for us.”

She waves a hand carelessly in the air. “Nonsense! I want to do this for you. It’s been way too long since the last time I cooked for more than two people.”

Your elbow prods at Jungkook who lacks his own attention. You quickly send him a look, a silent message to stop her from whipping anything up when you wouldn’t have much time to properly eat it, given from your strict itinerary.

“We only have half an hour to be here before the next Ferry arrives,” he finally speaks up.

“Oh,” his mother dejects with a pout. “Well, that’s a shame.”

“Yeah, sorry mom.”

Your hip pushes against his side, and your throat clears. “We’ll come back and stay for dinner,” you promise.

“Please do,” she nods. “My son doesn’t even visit anymore.”

She plainly ignores Jungkook, whose mouth has dropped significantly. “Mom—! I told you I would visit more often.”

“Can’t even make a simple phone call,” she tsks. “Your ex-wife interacts with me at least three times a week—more than you ever did within a month.”

“Mom!”

Your hand lands on top of his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze and sending his mother a smile of understanding. “We’ll be there. Promise.”

She sighs, hands smacking against her fruity apron and then clapping enthusiastically. “Alright, fine! Let me get my camera first.”

Her son groans. “Just use your phone.”

Her head shakes, already bending down and shuffling through the drawers, “But you got me that nice camera for Christmas! I haven’t used it yet.”

“Alright, fine,” he reluctantly obliges. “Dad, will you please give my daughter a hint? She’s going crazy here.” He points and your daughter is exactly there, crawling through the coffee table and easing herself to the next tiny space she can fit in.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself,” you warn when she breezes through a few expensive-looking structures around the house, “Or break something.. Jungkook—!” You tug on his sleeve and push him to grab her before any mishaps could happen.

When Jungkook finally gets a hold of a squirmy Yeona, his father finally ushers everybody outside towards the direction of the backyard where the scavenger hunt is officially located.

“They just texted me that they’re already at the house,” Jungkook suddenly announces by the time Yeona finds her fourth present.

You double-check the time on your phone and worriedly ask, “Do you think we’re running late?”

His head shakes. “I doubt it. If anything, we’re probably on time. We left really early in the morning.”

You sigh out with both shoulders deflating and he notices. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you ease. “Just worried, you know? This is the first year we aren’t doing a birthday party and she’s only turning six.”

“Hey,” he chuckles. “It’s not like these aren’t going to be a forever thing.”

“I know,” you groan and rub harshly at your temples. “I think I’m just so used to big gatherings, the amount of unnecessary attention, and the cake nobody eats because it’s all it really was for me growing up.” As much as the parties were for good intentions, it was never in a good way.

The only reason your mother was set on giving you a birthday party every year was for the pictures and some way into measly bragging about how well her life was going and not everybody else’s.

“And in no way I’m saying it as a way for Yeona to live through whatever I went through, but every year I try my best to plan something she wants.” You rub at your elbow unsurely with lips turned downwards. “For some reason, her not asking for one this year makes me think how much she didn’t like the others and how shitty I am for not seeing it much earlier.”

Yeona giggles when she picks out another that happens to be sneakily hidden snug between a few branches of a tree.

He shakes his head and calls for you softly. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen her happier with every passing birthday you manage to outdo every year. Our daughter also has incredible confrontational skills - If she doesn’t like something, she’ll tell us regardless.”

You snort. “Right.” You grow nervous how serious he becomes when you catch onto his eyes and his front faces you so suddenly.

“She loves what you do every year,” he assures. He then reasons, “And maybe next year it’ll be different — she’s growing up.”

You slowly nod, handing him a laugh of disbelief. “Yeah. God, you’re right. Sorry.”

“Even standing here with a headache, you’re still worrying for nothing,” he scolds.

“I told you I already feel better,” you argue in return. “The medicine helped a bunch. I’m okay.” And for the next ten minutes, you ignore the side-eye full of concern overpowering on his side when he shoots you a glance. He’s known you since the start of his twenties, of course he would be able to pick out if you were lying or not.

“What’s the count?” Jungkook asks, eyes squinting from the bright sun casting down at the colorful yard.

His mother points the camera at him and raises a hand, “Number Five!��

“And how much in total?”

She pouts. “It wouldn’t be as much fun if I told you.”

“Mom.”

You shush him. “Leave her alone.”

“Six! Six! Six!” Yeona yells near the fence.

“You found the sixth one, sweetheart!” Jungkook’s father exclaims.

His mother curses and whips the camera back around. “I missed it!”

It’s comical when you watch it from afar, and a large smile blooms across your face at the three. “God,” you snort, quite endeared by the sight, “This is a mess. It’s cute.”

Jungkook stays behind alongside you to simply observe you and them, and he’s already memorizing every part and aspect of this moment to set aside for later.

Everything fell into place so perfectly, everybody belonging exactly where they were supposed to be.

“You really do look pretty today, _____.”

Eyes widening, you whip around to his figure with a questioned gaze.

He’s willing to repeat the words, let you know over and over until you grow tired of the repetitiveness, drown you in all of the compliments he’s thinking of right now.

But, you curtly nod and turn away. “T-Thanks.”

His hand reaches out, exactly to where yours is and his sight subconsciously falls on your fourth finger that was blank of a specific jewelry he put on you two years ago. It’s already been two fucking years and he still grows somber when his eyes catch onto where the diamond used to be.

No matter how many times he can confront it with his own eyes, stare at it for however long you would allow him to look, seek it every time it would raise or show itself — It still hurts nonetheless.

It’s exactly what makes him pull back and grip onto the chain tucked into his shirt, away from your eyes to see the charm that glints exactly like the first day you put it on him.

Finally having it be the middle of the day, you get to leave and head towards the station to get from Busan to Jeju.

The station is way more quiet than what you initially anticipated, it being the weekend and all, but the line barely lasts a minute, and you’re already boarding the ferry, right behind Yeona who holds her father’s hand tightly across the dock that transitions to the ship.

“Snacks?” Is the first thing Jungkook asks for when you all sit down and you quickly reach into Yeona’s backpack.

“All I have our a few baggies of rice-puffs and juice-boxes.”

“I want one!” Yeona intercepts, and greedy hands suddenly wave in front of your face.

“Alright, baby, hold on a minute.” You request and stare back up at Jungkook to propose the idea of sharing a muffin his mother offered last-minute when you slipped through the door to part ways. “There’s only two juice-boxes.”

Jungkook’s head shakes, going to decline the kind offer and allow you to have it before Yeona perks sweetly, “Daddy can share with me!”

His thumb and pointer softly caresses the supple cheek beneath it before landing a kiss on it and murmuring, “Always so sweet.”

Sitting back down, Yeona on Jungkook’s lap while you sit side-to-side, plastic cover of the muffin opened and lips pursed out to your own straw.

With Jungkook’s hands full, squirming daughter all over his lap, you make it easier for him by popping small pieces of the muffin in his open mouth.

You let out a laugh when you miss and watch a few chocolate crumbs dribble down his chin. “Sorry,” you murmur with a smile, fingers rubbing off some of where the chocolate smeared against his skin.

“Do you need a tissue?”

Turning to the nimble voice, you notice an elderly lady with a soft smile she carries so sweetly. “I’m sorry,” she laughs off. “I just noticed how much of a mess you’ve made on your husband.”

You both don’t flinch at the assumption, smiling back at her.

“Oh,” your voice brightens with a laugh of your own and bowing in your seat slightly, “Thank you so much for offering.”

She brings out a few from her own bag and reaches out over the seats, “Here.”

“Thank you again,” Jungkook says and she looks at you expectantly, practically requesting you to wipe off his mouth yourself. You jump at the realization and clear your throat with whatever protest that bubbled from within, and start with stiff fingers. You’ve already stuffed pieces of muffin in his mouth, what harm would it be to clean up the mess you’ve made? Except it’s completely different, not very easy doing the simple action with a bright-eyed old woman who seems very entertained by the aspect of it, all life returning to them when the tissue rubs at his bottom lip.

“Daddy,” Yeona taps. “Want off.”

His gentle grip on her tummy loosens and allows her to slide off of his legs to approach the woman. Your daughter gently waves and let’s her smile speak for itself, so easy to sway the woman when she was so used to doing this to every other person she meets daily.

“Hi there.” The woman waves back and bends her back more forward to reach Yeona’s level. “Where are you off to today?”

“Jeju!” She exclaims, and then boasts proudly, “It’s my birthday.”

The woman eggs her giddiness on by clapping gently, “Oh wow. What a wonderful place to celebrate your birthday!”

“Yes ma’am,” she agrees sweetly, hands clasped behind her back. “I told my Mommy and Daddy to bring me there and they said yes! We even rode all together here!”

The woman spares you an odd look at the figures Yeona points at, and you both refrain meeting her eyes that read about obviously riding together, you were married with a kid after all.

At least, to her eyes you were.

Unfortunately, the both of you lacked the guts to tell her the truth, and that this was just another day to simply tolerate each other more than you already do during the week.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The woman hums. “Your parents must love you a lot then. They look good together, too.”

It all seems too much, as if she was mocking you, and you immediately grow antsy at her nosy stare.

Luckily, after Yeona had her fair share in her frankly short conversation with the older woman, she left all of you alone for the rest of the ride.

“That was—” Jungkook starts.

“—Definitely new,” you finish.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be used to the assumptions of us still being together. It’s hard not to just blatantly say no so that they could get off of our backs for once.”

Your voice lowers a bit, just to make sure she can’t hear you from her corner-seat. “But we also have to understand their point,” you reason, “When people see both of us with a daughter, it’s easier to assume that we’re together.”

His head leans on the metal rod behind him, still listening with his eyes closed.

“Besides, I don’t really mind.”

His head shoots back into position and he stares with widened eyes. “Y-You don’t?”

Shrugging, your head shakes. “It’s better this way. I’d rather just go along with it than explain exactly why we’re separated, let them into something they have no business in being in.”

“Right,” he drags it. “Exactly,” and he says it more for himself to grip on, because fucking obviously. Not for any other reason but for convenience. Always for the best, and he was fine with it. Perfectly keen.

His head turns towards the water, and he squints, legs bouncing obnoxiously, Yeona whines. It’s only then you realize he’s decked out in all black, as usual, with beads of sweat running off his temple and onto his neck. It’s only worse when he’s seated exactly right under the sun, where the roof fails to give him any shade.

“You idiot,” you suddenly call and his brows furrow, whipping around to find you in a state of absolute worry, searching through your bag. “Out of all days, when we’d be outside, you’re wearing everything you’re not supposed to.”

His eyes widen and he stares down at his attire, sizzling back down into realization when he finally realizes the problem. “I’m fine,” he passes off cooly. “Yeona wanted the seat nearest to the water, and I figured you wouldn’t want to be under the sun this long.”

Before he can even come out with an argument, you’re already moving forward and grabbing Yeona off of his lap.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on,” you pat on his thigh, silently coaxing him to scoot. “We’ll trade spots. You can’t be under the sun like this.”

“_____..”

Your lips purse and stray down into a pout, and his heart falters, his argument pushed down his throat until he swallows it away. “Jungkook, I’m worried. I don’t even think you put on sunscreen today either.”

He’s fully aware how irked you get when he doesn’t follow the skincare regimen you set up for him. It’s especially the distress you hold in your eyes and lips when he forgoes the most important step of it all: suncare.

“Shit doesn’t even work,” he exasperates, and your eyes roll back.

“Say that to me when you’re fifty and covered with sun spots you’ll never be able to erase because you never wanted to listen to me.”

His bite comes without even a second thought, falling back into the banter he secretly misses, when it was comfortable to joke around you, tease you to no end, and drive you up the wall. “You’ll still like me that way, right?” He’s teasing now, and it’s clear when he raises his brows in expectancy, lighthearted and jokeful.

To your embarrassment, your cheeks tint pink and you don’t have enough pride to return his stare. The only thing you can really do is stammer severely and point at your purse. “J-Just put some on and leave me alone.”

He hands you a hearty and genuine laugh and you only try your best to ignore it, lips curving the same until you force them to stop from going any higher.

“Holy shit,” you gape. “It’s huge.”

“They’re loaded.”

“I-I can’t go in this, Jungkook.”

“You couldn’t have told me this before we went on a whole road trip and had me prepay tickets for a ferry ride here?”

You hit his arm. “Jungkook, I’m serious.”

He laughs. “Why exactly can’t you? It’s just a beach house.”

“This is too big for a six year old! A few candles from the fucking mall is never going to pay off the fact they are letting us have it for the weekend.”

“With their advision,” he reminds. Yeona stirs in her sleep from the backseat and Jungkook pins you a look. “Can we get out now?”

You hesitate. “How are you okay without thinking about being possibly indebted to Seokjin and Namjoon? First, they put out a car for us to drive here when we arrived, and now we’re staying in this? We’re being pampered.”

“Because I’ve been leeching off of Seokjin since I was a teenager, _____,” he states, nimbly remembering when he would depend on a few meals paid from him and even to now - being roommates with the older man. “He’s fine with it. He offered first, after all. We’re just following orders,” he defends so easily.

Reluctantly, you climb out of the car, crossed arms from your chest, heading towards the back to take out your daughter from her carseat. With a soft nudge and a kiss to her cheek, her eyes shot back open with the realization that this was the last stop, that she was finally here. “M-Mommy, look!”

“I know,” you coo, “I was just as shocked as you are now.”

She moves quickly, already releasing the buckle and sliding down to the car floor. She still requests to be picked up like a princess when her arms span out for you, and of course, you oblige.

“Jungkook,” you call. “Are you getting the bags?”

The trunk shuts, keys jingling in his hand, “Already on it.”

When you reach the porch, Yeona eagerly leans towards the right of the door to ring the bell.

It only takes three seconds for Kim Seokjin to open it with a wide smile. “Welcome!”

Yeona squeals, legs kicking all over the place and you finally set her down for her to enter first. Not before giving her uncle’s leg a big squeeze of her own, “Thank you, Uncle Jinnie! Love it so much!”

He chuckles, smoothing down her hair, “Anything for the birthday girl! You haven’t even taken a look around yet, sweetheart. Go find Uncle Joon and he’ll show you everything.”

“Okay!” Her form is only a blur when she rushes out.

He smiles. “You guys are on time,” and he says it like it’s a complete surprise.

A brow arches. “When are we not?”

“New years,” he recalls. “You both made it five minutes late after the countdown.”

Jungkook slips behind you to set the bags down. “That’s not fair.”

You agree. “Yeona was two years old that year. She had a hard time handling the fireworks. I had to coax her to sleep through the phone that night.”

His head tilts in reason, “Fair.”

Jungkook nudges you. “Where do you want these?”

You shrug, turning to Seokjin. “Depends where you want us, Jin.”

“It’s up to you guys. Taehyung and Jimin already took two of the guest rooms. There’s only three more.”

“Kiumin is sleeping over, so they can have one room,” you calculate. “And Hyejin’s coming with Kiumin, so we can split.”

The older man stares wide-eyed at his roommate. Jungkook stares back with the same expression, so Seokjin asks for him, “Split?”

You’re too busy with some of the messages on your phone regarding birthday wishes to your daughter, vaguely returning them with typed out thank you’s and kissy faces. “Yeah.”

“Does that mean you and—“

You send him an odd stare before turning around and grabbing onto your own bags, disregarding Jungkook’s. “Of course not—? I’m rooming with Hyejin and Jungkook can have the extra room to himself.”

“.. Right.”

“Is it this way?” You ask without a clue to the men behind you.

“Uh, yeah! Let me help you,” Seokjin rushes.

Jungkook is left at the doorway, all alone and with his own bags and a fuming heart that drags as if the slim possibility of what would have happened was anything more to go by.

It’s nighttime now.

You’ve directed Hyejin to your room and have let her unpack while you watched over Yeona and her little boy.

Your knees bend into a crouch, the familiar smell of chlorine filling your senses when you near the water.

Jungkook's hair flicks back when his fingers push through them and the blue rays of the water reflect against his chest. His collarbones glisten against the minimal light the night provides, making it harder to strictly set your eyes forward and stray away from anything that wasn’t his own.

“You couldn’t have waited a second for everyone to settle in before dipping into the pool?”

He pouts. “Why?”

Head tilting, you pin him a stare and direct your eyesight towards the pink floatie in the corner, swaying calmly. “Because Yeona’s been eyeing that giant flamingo and now she’s asking to hop in with you.”

“Let her in, then. Namjoon’s already here.”

Your head turns to the outdoor bar and they pin the figure reading a book with amusement when he sends off a small wave.

“But then Kiumin..”

Hyejin walks in with a relaxed sigh at the sight in front of her when she passes through the widened double-doors. “Too bad it’s nighttime. I could’ve been tanning.”

“Hyejin!” You gawk at her bikini. “You’re going in too?”

She nods in an obvious answer. “Kiumin’s been begging me to let him jump in since we’ve gotten here, and with a view like this — how could I say no?”

Jungkook points. “See? Our friend is obviously taking the advantage of being here.”

“We are way far from friends, Jeon,” she practically snarls back. “It’s almost insulting when you say it like that.”

“Hyejin,” you warn, and turn back to the man standing in the waist-deep side of the pool now.

Ignoring your friend’s hatred fueled statements, he coaxes. “Come on,” he lulls. “Taehyung and Jimin are already planning to jump in too.”

Your head shakes in decline, “I can’t. I didn’t even pack a swimsuit, only Yeona’s.”

“I have one laying out for you in the room,” Hyejin pitches and your eyes widen significantly. “It’s the one I’ve been meaning to give you.”

“Perfect!” Seokjin claps by the doors, tray full of glasses and the two children following right behind him. “We can start having a pool party!” They immediately cheer and your mind starts to reel in defeat.

You rub your arms shyly, “I-I’m fine. I don’t really feel like swimming right now..”

Hyejin snorts. “Don’t even lie. We used to be obsessed with the pool when we were kids. We can do it again for old times’ sake! Show our kids where they got it from.”

“Literally, what does that have to do with anything in wanting to swim? Aren’t kids naturally drawn to the pool, because it’s a pool?” You grit.

“I’m just saying to take the chance and relax,” she stresses and her arms extend, waving around carelessly. “We’re here!”

“You’re going to miss out if you don’t get in,” Jungkook bets, and he knows how much you despise being the outsider while everyone had their share of fun. You loathed the plain idea of it. “Just put the bikini on and stop being a pussy.”

“J-Jungkook!”

Childish. Absolutely childish.

You hear footsteps approaching right behind you, the vow reaching your ears. “I’ll only jump in if we do it together.”

Taehyung’s head shakes side to side, eyes narrowing at the shorter man with apprehension. “You pull back every fucking time we do it. I won’t fall for it again.”

Jungkook’s throat clears at the two and he orders his friends, “Tell _____ to get in the pool.”

Taehyung’s brow furrows, “She doesn’t want to? It’s the pool—and we’re in Jeju!”

You stubbornly shake your head. “Don’t care.”

Jimin has a teasing glint in his eye, something you dislike a lot when it’s crystal clear he has something stirring up in his sick head of his, especially since Taehyung had turned down the proposal of his playful and expectant joke.

“We can—grab her and push her in?” He suggests.

“That’s elementary school shit, Jimin,” you warn. “Get away from me.”

He’s inching closer and you’re nervously sputtering for Jungkook, helplessly calling for him to get his friend from throwing you in the water so carelessly.

Luckily, a small hand grapples onto you and it’s Yeona with eager feet who stops Jimin in his tracks. “Mommy, t-the pink birdie!”

You have a staring contest with it, the one side of the floating flamingo’s eye stares back at you and you exhale a puff before finally standing back up. “Alright, come on. Let’s get dressed.”

The white bikini on you terrifies you enough to cross your arms over yourself and skirt around the edge of the pool until you reach the chairs where Hyejin sits.

No one’s noticed yet. Not when Jungkook and the rest were already in the pool, putting on the floaties for the children who sat on the pathed ledges made of stone. At some point, you can see both of Jungkook’s eyes completely wiped out and squeezed shut when Yeona excitedly flaps her arms around the water, hyper to get in.

“Hyejin,” you hiss out, finally reaching your friend.

She hums with furrowed brows, too distracted in trying to connect her phone to the bluetooth speaker.

“Why in the world would you give me something like this. I-It’s too much,” you whimper out weakly.

Her eyes roll back. “It’s a bikini, _____. Remember those? I bet you look great—“ She screeches, chin dropping, hands hovering over her mouth. You flinch, just as shocked as she was, shushing her to shut up before anyone even has the chance in blinking your way.

“Holy shit.”

Eyes squeezing shut, you shy in on yourself, carefully taking the wooden pool-chair beside her. “Please, shut up.”

Her arms raise, “I haven’t said anything—yet.”

You scowl. “You seriously couldn’t have given me any other fucking set? Like a wetsuit? This is too weird for me.”

She cackles. “Relax,” she attempts to ease. “Why are you so freaked out? It’s just a swimsuit.”

Your head knocks back against the wood and you sigh tiredly. “It’s been way too long since I’ve worn something like this. Something not.. Mom-ish.”

“And why not? This literally proves how much of a Milf you really are!” She stresses.

You shrug shyly. “I haven’t had much of a reason to.”

“Well, I’m begging you to. Seriously, _____,” she reassures.

You quietly break into a laugh, smacking at her arm harshly.

“Where’s mommy?” You hear Jungkook suddenly ask, and you think you’re a hundred percent fucked.

Yeona’s voice is muffled against your ex-husband’s chest, incoherently explaining, “Mommy was already running away when we got outside.”

“Running away?”

“Yeah! Kind’ve like a ninja. She was there and then—poof!”

You don’t even announce your bathroom break to Hyejin, standing up and rushing over towards the doors that were close yet so far away.

It would only be a second before you would reach it, and straight into changing back to the sundress that was always deemed as safe.

Part of you wishes that you could parade around with no care, being so long since you’ve gone out in something like this. But another part that tears you completely, thinks about Kim Seol and how different she is compared to you.

With stark personalities and looks, you most likely would have never even thought about comparing you from her. But now that Jungkook was going out with her, everything’s changed, and your mind reels into thinking how in the world he had the chance of going to someone else completely different from you, and if he even liked you in the first place, relationship and marriage long forgotten, not even being considered in this context.

You weren’t exactly sure how long this feeling would last, and maybe it wouldn’t, sticking to all of the new relationships he would continue to open up now that he was available.

Sure, he’s seen you plenty of times in bed and in the shower from the past years of being together. But this is now and before he had anything younger, more vibrant.

This was possibly the only thing you could take away from him. Seeing anything physical to compare you with another was the only thing you truly, absolutely wished for.

You accidentally collide against something. Hard and wide.

And when you eventually look up, you’re relieved to only find Namjoon with a bag of chips in hand.

“Shit, are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine, Joon. Sorry for—running?”

He chuckles, pointing back to his boyfriend back inside of the house. “Save it for the lifeguard, but he’s off-duty right now mixing margaritas for everyone.”

You attempt to let out the same energy of a laugh as his, but it all turns dry and brittle, making him halt and inspect. “You okay, _____?”

“O-Of course I am.”

A few murmurs are made at the back of your figure until a small voice calls out, “Mommy! Over here!”

Letting out a small gasp, you reluctantly turn around, weakly mustering a smile and avoiding the eyes that officially lay on you when he notices.

“Hi, baby.”

“Mommy!” She splashes. “Swim with me and daddy!”

“U-Uh..”

“Looks like your daughter wants you to get in the pool.”

Turning back to Namjoon, you stiffly nod, “Yeah.”

“If you’re worried about the temperature, don’t worry. It’s heated.”

Far from your true concern, you manage to give him a thumbs-up and head back to the very place you’ve been trying to escape.

“I’ll be there in a minute, okay? Let me go get Aunt Hyejin first.” It’s truly for your sake more than for hers, a cry for help in a situation you could have easily avoided if you had just never put the bikini on. “I hate this,” you managed to mutter against your breath when you finally reached her. “I’m never listening to you ever again.”

She yelps when you rip the towel away from her, tugging tightly at her arm, urging her to get up. “Hey!” She pouts.

“Come on,” you order. “Yeona wants to swim and I am not doing this alone.”

She sits up and observes, quietly biting on a sly chuckle when she notices.

“What now?”

“Nothing,” she waves off. “It’s just—your ex is making googly eyes right now.”

You groan, stomping impatiently. “Hyejin, stop lying and get up.”

“I’m not lying,” she pleads. “I swear — I’m looking at him right now!”

“I don’t care,” you deadpan.

When she finally stands, you put a death-grip on her arm and timidly walk towards the pool.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry,” you sheepishly say, releasing a bit.

It’s a pleasant feeling when the warm water wets the bottom surface of your feet, and your shoulders subconsciously relax when your waist-deep.

Hyejin coos at her little boy, proud of her son when she watches Jimin help, something more in her eyes that go starry at the man who leads him through the water.

“Thanks, Hyejin,” you whisper.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she pats softly at your arm. “I know how nervous you are and all. Just don’t, okay? You’ll be fine.”

You weakly smile at her again before finally sending her off.

When she moves out of your view and directly towards Jimin and her son, you find Yeona eagerly waiting for you.

Taehyung has his eyes blown at the sight of you, whistling with your name trapped between his lips, which exactly makes you wrap your arms tighter around yourself. Of course, he’s teasing, the natural flirt in him most likely powering over him.

Fortunately, you’re saved when he gets whacked with a strong push of water, Jungkook’s doing. You don’t notice it when your daughter cutely dog-paddles towards you.

All is forgotten, smile setting on your lips.

“Mommy! Stay right there, okay? I’ll swim to you.”

“Oh,” you perk, arms already rising beneath the water. With the long distance, you subtly move forward when her legs kick to make it easier on her, and within a few seconds, she’s splashing against your arms with a squeal.

You giggle. “Are you having fun?”

“So much, mommy!” She exclaims. “Daddy threw me up high when I wanted a splash.”

You gasp with a smile, nerves diminishing. “Really? I wish I was there to see it.”

“Are you too cold?” A voice asks from behind her and you hesitantly face Jungkook, always polite and concerned for your well-being, except there was definitely something else in his eyes you weren’t able to pinpoint and didn’t bother to anyway, now that you were in the water.

You stiffly smile and shake your head. “I’m fine. The water feels really nice.”

He nods. “T-That��s good.”

God, he feels like it’s high school all over again, having no utter idea in starting a conversation with a girl, wanting to, but not even knowing exactly how.

Still, he can’t stop the burning stare, even when your attention zeroes back in on Yeona.

The nice music sets a comforting nuance around the place, hearing splashes coming from everywhere, specifically when Seokjin’s yelling resonates from the chairs when Taehyung targets him with a cheeky grin.

“The slices of watermelon are here, you dick!” He scowls.

Jimin butts in with a scold to the older man, telling him to censor his words around the children.

Jungkook doesn’t have time to hear the continued argument when he’s hit with an expectant splash of water of his own.

He doesn’t even need to ask a second later when he hears the both of you giggling. Wiping away the drops on his face and in his eyes, he brushes strands of hair back to get a good look at the satisfied looks on both of your faces. He approaches slowly.

Your head shakes, already aware of what Jungkook was doing — getting his revenge.

“I-It was Yeonie’s idea!”

She only giggles louder, knowing fully well she would easily be the untouched one out of this.

“Jungkook, I swear to god if you do anything to me-“

Your warning goes straight out when strong arms turn you around to face your daughter. Fully wrapping them around your form for a slim chance of being able to escape, you hear a soft chuckle against your ear.

“I think it’d be fun to splash mommy, huh?” He teases and you tense.

“Jungkook—!”

“Yeah, let’s do it!” She pumps a tiny fist from out of the water.

“Sweetheart, no! Listen to me-“

Your nose scrunches, hair whipping with you to cover your face when she splashes. Jungkook helps along the way by releasing an arm and moving some of the water forward against you to hit you square in the face. His wave comes stronger and does an excellent job at soaking you completely.

You gasp, wiping some of the water away from your face. “Okay, please, I’m sorry,” you whine, gripping his wrists softly, eyes squeezed shut.

He falters at the frail sight of you, easily making you his biggest weakness.

“It’s okay, mommy,” Yeona speaks up first. “I forgive you.”

“Hey!” You scoff with a pout. “It wasn’t even my idea.”

Her eyes crease and she giggles loudly.

“_____!” Hyejin suddenly calls, and your chin tilts up to find your best friend. “Kiumin wants to play with the birthday girl.”

Yeona eagerly looks up at you and you simply nod with a smile, letting her small legs kick and float over to her best friend.

“Ah,” you realize, now being all alone. “I think I should go now.”

Still, with his arms wrapped around you, he leans closer, “What, why?” And it’s needy, wanting to pull you closer than what he already has. “Can’t you stay?”

“Yeona’s all the way over there and we’re..” Exes with barely anything to talk about or to get along in general. It wasn’t in the book you’ve written out for yourself and probably never will be. “I-I have to get her cake ready. Your mom worked really hard on it.”

“I’ll help you put the candles on it,” he quickly offers. “Just.. Just stay here with me for a while.”

A brow raises and you turn in his arms. “And do what?”

He feigns in thinking about it, sharp jaw tilting for you to settle your eyes on.

Seokjin interrupts with a call of his name and a raised brow at the sight.

You clear your tight throat and gulp when he hands Jungkook a towel. “Your phone is ringing,” and then carefully gives it to him over the water.

You observe him as he answers. “Hello?”

A female voice is heard on the other end and you sense the way he pulls back a bit, that it was Seol. Her muffled voice is enough to push you back into reality and to what exactly you were doing before the call.

“Ah, hey..” He awkwardly greets, nodding to whatever she was saying. Your head turns away when his eyes land on yours and you feign interest at the potted plant set right next to the door that led inside. “I’m at the house now with.. Everyone else.”

He chokes up a bit when she says another thing, and you don’t understand until he returns the words.

“I—I miss you too.”

Swallowing harshly, your expression hardens, and you begin to pull back.

“I’ll call you later tonight, alright?” He assures, almost in a rush. Your ears catch some of her words, not really interested in any of the conversation anyway, wanting to create a distance between you and Jungkook before anything else would happen, before you would hear something else you wouldn’t want to be hearing at all.

Finally hanging up, he takes a slow breath in and sets the phone at the side of the pool.

You finally pull away from him completely.

“_____.”

You give a curt smile. “Yeah?”

His head shakes. “Nothing. It’s just.. Are you okay?”

You nod, slightly with bewildering eyes, asking, “Why wouldn’t I be?” Then, you laugh softly. “We’re not married anymore, Jungkook.” He stiffens, jaw ticking and eyes shifting to catch your flat expression. “And from what I clearly remember — you’re seeing someone else.” You point towards the phone laying carelessly on top of the stone.

For once, you feel bad for the poor girl who’s probably wondering when his goodnight text from him would be.

You keep your eyes on his hands that sink and submerge into the water, and back to his sides.

“Just because it’s our daughter's birthday does not entail us playing family again,” you mumble. “You took that all away from me two years ago, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t say anything, shamefully looking down at the waves in the pool caused by Yeona a few feet away. A reminder that was given way too late.

You nod again, turning slowly around. “I’m going to go get the cake ready. I’ll ask Hyejin to help.”

With the distance you’ve given him, he finally looks up and finds a disapproving look being given by his own roommate, who had seen and observed every single second of the two of you together since being in the pool.

He understood exactly why.

Everybody eventually makes their way out of the pool and back into the house to hang out at.

The same subtle music speakers through the house, the kids being fully entertained by the large television in the living room, and the inside of the house being overall in a mood and feeling that definitely differs from your own thoughts that constantly circle around your head.

Whatever Jungkook was getting at in the pool, definitely wasn’t sitting with you right. And frankly, everything leading up to it too.

The process of the divorce was already stripping and tiring enough, finalizing the documents and who would get exactly what was already overwhelming enough, but to throw all of that away and not even consider it when you’re wrapped in the arms you were so accustomed to was entirely stressful.

It didn’t make sense. It never did when it came to him.

“Yeonie, are you getting sleepy already?” You ask across the room from the kitchen as you watch your little girl yawn and squirm on top of the fluffy carpet she lays on.

Her head stubbornly shakes with a pout set on her lips.

Glancing at the clock sat beside her, it was only eight, but judging from the exertion taken place at the pool, Yeona must have been exhausted.

Your feet move to where she lays lazily, crouching down and moving her towards your lap, you murmur, “Stay awake for me, baby. You haven’t even blown the candles or opened your presents yet.”

She yawns in protest and nuzzles her nose further into your neck. “Not even a nap?”

Chuckling softly, probably making it worse for her when your fingers trace against her back, you repeat, “Not even a nap.” Saying it exactly knowing what that would entail, Yeona misinterpreting what a nap and sleep was more often than not.

Jungkook comes back with damp hair and sweats, black socks shuffling through the floor until they reach you.

“Hey,” you greet, looking down at the sleepy-head in your arms. “She’s tired.”

He hums, crouching down with an endeared smile. “I can see.”

“I swear,” you promise to Yeona, patting her back. “Dinner is almost done and then you can go to sleep, alright?” Your eyes search for Jungkook’s and you request, “Keep her awake while I get everything ready?”

His arms stretch and extend out, and you pass off the small body in your arms.

His lips instinctively purse to a gentle shush and rocks her gently when he feels her squirm.

You glare. “I said keep her awake, not encourage her to count the sheep.”

He winces. “This is new! Usually I’m doing the exact opposite.” He lifts her head, and begins his futile attempts in keeping her eyes open. “Alright, sweetheart. What mommy says, it always goes, so you’re going to have to help me out here, okay?”

She mumbles incoherently.

“Come on,” he nudges, “Up.”

“Play that dancing game she likes,” you suggest.

Taehyung from the couch, perks at that. “God, I love that game,” inputting himself in the conversation and inviting himself a second later, “Please count me in.”

“You think they have any games like that for kids?” He specifies with a swift look at his friend and Taehyung sends a throw pillow his way.

Seokjin quickly dissipates it with a scold of how much the pillows cost and which country they were exactly from.

You eye the bar full of wires and game controllers, easily making the assumption quickly, “With the eight different consoles I’m staring at, they must.”

His head dips down. “How does that sound, baby? You want to dance?”

Yeona’s completely untouchable when she’s grumpy, so it doesn’t come to a surprise when her arms reels back to try to smack her father away from talking to her anymore.

Luckily, he dodges it.

But as her eyes open wider and catches an eyeful of Jungkook dancing along with Kiumin and Taehyung twenty minutes later, she ends up joining them in the end, the same jittery moves she first walked in with.

You pull Hyejin out of her light conversation with Jimin, opting to question her tinted cheeks for later when it would be time to head to bed.

Of course, Hyejin will want to pry whenever and wherever, deeming it acceptable when it’s noisy enough with the conversations and laughs airing through it. “Want to talk about it?” Hyejin, located beside you who unwraps the carefully decorated box, asks carefully.

You feign cluelessness to the subject. “Not sure about what.”

She pins you a stare. “Come on. I saw what happened. Everybody did.”

Shrugging, you grab the candles, sticking them carefully, three on top and three at the bottom. You would’ve gotten the actual number six, but Jungkook had argued that it would be more fun for your daughter to blow as many candles as she can, the singular candle not being enough for a kid’s satisfaction.

“I don’t know,” you start unsurely. “It’s just weird, is all. It’s always hot and cold when I’m with him — having weird moments happen every so often and reminding him where the line starts and ends, and then acting perfectly poised when Yeona’s there.”

Her back hits the counter as she leans, arms crossed and head shaking. “This needs to stop, _____,” she says honestly. “He can’t keep going back and forth like this, completely forgetting everything else that happened — you’re broken up for a reason.”

“Forget it,” you dismiss with a bite to your lip. “It’s not like I stopped him on time. For a second, I forgot about everything too.”

She’s visibly stumped, stern expression faltering and letting the silence bloom, other than the outdated pop music and stomping in the background.

“_____..”

“I’m not going to sit here and blame him for every little thing that I could have controlled myself if I just stayed in my own lane,” distressed hands and fingers pull against your hair and you sigh out, eyes closing shut and feet swaying a little. The throbbing in your head continues and pulls at you venomously, like it couldn’t get enough from the first time.

Hyejin’s eyes widen and she rushes over to you in full concern. “Babe, are you okay?”

You nod, even if your furrowed brows clearly show the opposite. “Of course,” you pass off, eyes darting to the same place they’ve been at all night.

He’s still dancing and smiling.

“He’s not my husband anymore.”

And you say it again, wanting it to stick inside of your head until it fully processes, that it’s your fault just as much as his, for playing against the papers and agreements you’ve spent so many nights and days over. A constant reminder for the rest of your life, and not the other. Not the one that consists of vows and promises. Never that one anymore.

You muster a quick smile, turning to her gaping mouth who yearns to reach out, but you refuse it when you turn the corner, beginning to set everything up at the main table.

“Is the birthday girl ready?” Your voice drags, upbeat lilt feigning the pounding in your head.

High pitched squeals resound from the main room and their small feet bounce against the hardwood.

Jungkook follows suit.

“Me!” Yeona calls excitedly, “It’s me, Mommy!”

“Woah,” Kiumin gapes. “You’re cake is awesome, Yeonie!”

She giggles and hops on her tippy-toes to get a peek, “Thanks! My grandma made it.”

“Oh,” Kiumin nods. “She’s awesome.”

You chuckle softly at the kids, smiling down at the cute cake. You go to pull out your phone for pictures and videos to make sure she would see her work being fully appreciated.

Jungkook hoists Yeona up on the chair, her lifted cheeks and glittering eyes proving her excitement when she sees the candles already lit.

“Has it already been six years, already?” Seokjin asks in disbelief, plates and forks already in his hand to set down on the table.

You nod, pouting and squishing one of her cheeks, “Already a big girl.”

Yeona hums, “Basically a grown-up now!”

Hyejin bursts in laughter, everybody following right behind.

“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, arms circling around her softly, placing a kiss on the top of her head. Fondly staring down at his rapidly growing little girl, the same feeling you hold to your chest. “Don’t need to rub it into our faces, miss.”

Your camera clicks on its own, a fond smile subconsciously forming.

“Are we ready to sing?” Namjoon timidly asks. You turn to find him weary at the sight on the wax that begins to drip rapidly. “It’s just—the candles are starting to melt.”

You laugh, nodding. “Alright, let’s sing.”

It starts off normal, a little bit muted, until Kiumin bursts into a full performance for his best friend. Until Seokjin follows along and throws in an impromptu dance routine. Her father and the others join in right after, impressed at how eerily good it actually looked, almost looking rehearsed. But then you familiarize yourself with the sharp moves, the hands and arms showcasing that it was the corny traffic dance Seokjin taught them all a few years back on one drunk night.

Until eventually everybody does their best in throwing Yeona in a fit of giggles.

You join her side and guide her into making a wish, clamping her hands shut and scrunching her eyes closed, until the commotion quiets and she opens her eyes with hopefulness written all over it.

Kiumin is the first to question through the silence. “What’d you wish for, Yeonie?”

She simply smiles, glancing at you from her side, and then moving her gaze straight to Jungkook.

She subtly shakes her head, voice so soft, almost completely blurred into a whisper, “If I tell you, it’ll never come true.”

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

hi, i’m back omg. i had to take some time away bc midway of finishing this up, literally a few paragraphs away, i ended up having my mental health spiral down. but now, i’m better and managed to finish this part.

also please tell me ur thoughts! i crave validation n use ur feedback as my fuel towards anything i write. :]

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

#mine #bts #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #full stop

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