#3 piece sectional living room set

[sdupholstery]

Custom-Made Furniture In Canada By SD Upholstery

Explore our wide range of custom furniture including sofas, sectionals, beds, and more at SD Upholstery, your premier furniture store in Mississauga, Canada

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steels his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

Hood stands, making his way across the room casually. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.

[em1e]

ᶻz feat. draken + mikey + ran !!

tokyo revengers && haircare

☓ they let u touch their hair !! ran's is a lil suggestive :3

ᶻz・ken ryuguji ‘draken’

⠀ ⬤ and helping upkeep his dark dye job.

“your roots are coming in.” you hum out with a tap to his forehead. 

draken swats your hand away with a grimace, standing from his kneeling position in front of the bike he was fixing while wiping his hands on the rag he keeps in his belt loop, “yeah? ‘ve been meaning to get some dye.” 

you smile, “can i do it?” 

“you gotta dying degree?, his eyes narrow to slits, quick to ask. 

“cosmetology degree,” you correct, unwavering, “and how hard can it be? you seem to do just fine.” 

“i’ve been doing it for a couple years.” he rolls his eyes, “and it’s so dark, i dunno how good of a job you’ll do.” 

“tomato, tomato.” you wave off, “what brand do you get? i’ll stop by the store and grab a box before you’re home.”  

he doesn’t have it in him to argue - not when you’re giving him such a big grin and those puppy-dog eyes - he can’t say no. 

“revlon,” he relents, “but if you mess up you’re never doin’ it again.” 

“aye aye captain.” you giggle, standing on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips before you’re practically skipping out of the garage.

when he comes back to your shared home, you’re sitting in the living room, a towel in the middle of the floor with one of the dining room chairs set in the center of it. he raises an eyebrow at it, and you hold up the box with a smile. 

“ready?”

draken changes from his work clothes while you mix the bowl of dye. he ends up sitting in the chair while you drape an old hand towel around his neck and press a kiss to his nose when you’re satisfied with the placement. 

“try not to get it in my scalp, yeah?” he grimaces at how dark the color is, suddenly very aware of each stroke you put onto his head despite you being mindful of each part you section off before moving to the next. it takes you maybe thirty minutes before you’re satisfied, making sure to use what dye remains to blend it in with the rest of his hair. you give another kiss to his forehead when you’re finished, and grimace when your nose presses into the still very wet dye. 

draken wipes away the little dot smeared on the tip of your nose with the corner of the hand towel, smiling at how you perk up at such a little interaction. 

“‘kay, it has to stay on for 25 minutes and then you can rinse it out.” 

“i know,” he laughs, “i do this like once a month.” 

you pinch his shoulder with a huff, “i was just reminding you.” 

draken stays in the chair as the 25 minutes pass, worried about dripping dye on your brand new carpet, and lets you help him wash it out when the time comes, leaning over the edge of the bathtub while you run water and shampoo and conditioner over his hair. 

you towel it try while he sits on the toilet, pressing a kiss to his forehead when you’re finished and smiling at how well of a job you’ve done. 

“none on your scalp.” you hum out, stepping back when he stands to look at himself in the mirror. you adore him like this, hair down and falling over his shoulders. he runs a hand through the still slightly damp hair, examining with the critique of a college professor.

then he gives you a toothy grin, brushing some fallen pieces out of his face, “you did good. might have to make this a habit.” 

ᶻz・manjiro sano ‘mikey’ 

⠀ ⬤ and letting you put his hair into different styles.

mikey was practically purring while you ran your fingers through his messy blond hair. 

the sensation of your fingertips against his scalp was magical, leaving him to bonelessly slumping against you while you part and section as you please, and despite you tapping his shoulder multiple times and mumble something about him needing to stay sitting up straight so you can properly fix his hair, he always ends up in the same position. 

it makes your job twenty times harder, tying up his pretty locks at an awkward angle and having to redo it multiple times when it’s uneven, and part of you suspects maybe he’s doing it on purpose - the need to have your fingers in his hair ever present with the sighs that fall from his lips. 

still, you do as well as you can, and press a soft kiss to the top of his head when you’re finished. 

he doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know you’ve done a good job. his body goes even limper to lean his full weight against you, sighing softly as you wrap your arms around his waist and hook your head over his shoulder. 

“how’s it look?” he asks more out of courtesy, since you did just spend the last twenty minutes doing whatever it is you’ve decided to do to his head. 

“cute.” you answer with a smile, “wanna see?” 

he hums, eyes closing when the warmth that radiates from you seeps into his back. he really doesn’t want to move.

and it’s as if you can see into the future - having already brought over a small hand mirror for him to look into when you grabbed the various hair ties and clips that are currently in his hair. you offer it to him gently, and he takes it with one eye open, head tilting as he takes in his new style. 

it is cute, he can admit. small colorful butterfly clips sat mixed into the usual half-up hairdo he normally wears. 

“you did good.” he turns his head slightly to give you a small peck on the cheek, smiling when he sees the blush that flares from the spot as if he’s burned you. 

“thanks.” your voice is quiet, but giddy. happy he’s happy. 

he sets the mirror face down onto his stomach, closing his eyes and letting himself relax in your embrace. some stray clips poke into the back of his head, but he can’t really find it in himself to care when the air around you brings such peace. 

he thinks he could stay like this forever, laying with whatever silly decorations in his hair if it means you’ll stay there, too. 

ᶻz・ran haitani

⠀ ⬤ and braiding his stupidly dyed hair.

“you are so annoying,” you groan out, undoing the entirety of the braid you’ve just done when ran turns his head to face you with a grin. 

“what?” he asks innocently, as if he hasn’t been the reason you’ve spent thirty minutes on his hair and still haven’t gotten a single braid finished. 

you replace the hair tie on your wrist, twisting him to face forward by his cheeks to restart, “we were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. rindou is gonna kill me if we’re late to this stupid dinner.” 

his grin falters at the mention of his brother’s name, turning to face you fully despite your protests, “who cares ‘bout him. you ‘nd i can have plenty of fun without goin’ to that dinner with him.”

the look you set him with would send any normal person running, but ran haitani has seen it all. death doesn’t scare him as much as it probably should, and neither does the way your eyes are scanning over his face. 

“it’s his birthday.” you settle for instead, forcing him to turn back around so you can start over with a frustrated sigh. 

“he ‘nd i already celebrated.” he says dismissively, turning back around despite you clicking your tongue and dropping your hands into your lap with another sigh. 

your aggravation is palpable, clear with the crease in your brows, “ran, i’m serious. i still need to get dressed and the reservation is five minutes from now and the place is almost fifteen if we speed-” 

he shuts you up with a kiss, pulling you towards him with a desperation that has your eyes fluttering closed and returning it as if it’s something as natural as breathing. your hands come up to tangle in his hair, fingertips meeting the hair tie still separating the half of it from the rest, and you pull. far harder than necessary, and it has him pulling away from you with a groan. 

it’s enough to tug the hair tie out completely, and you’re satisfied with the way his mixed colors fall over his shoulders and frame his face. 

the grin he gives you is sharp, all teeth and teasing, and your eyebrows raise with a pointed finger, “no ran. you are going to this dinner with your hair down and i am going to get dressed.” you slide out from behind him as quickly as your body will allow, already in the process of stripping off your shirt to put on the clothes you’ve set out previously. 

“c’mon babe, we’re already gonna be late.” his arms wrap around your bare torso, teeth pressing into your shoulder from how hard he’s grinning, “what’s a few extra minutes? s’not like he’ll be alone, izana ‘nd the others’ll be there to keep him company.” 

“ran.” your voice is warning, but you’re letting him pull you towards the bed and your resolve falters with each second he’s holding you. you are already late anyways. what’s twenty more minutes?

[cupidsdolll]

Hey! 17 & 28 if possible please!!! x

Valentine’s Gifts and Surprises

hii here you go ! <3

talk to me • masterlist • request a valentine's prompt

- - - -

17- roses

28 - ribbons

- - - - 

Y/N’s never been on the giving side of all of Valentine's activities. She’s always been the one receiving the flowers, chocolates and cards from her past lovers. But this year, she wants to do something different, step outside of her comfort zones and do something nice. She stares at the variety of flowers lining the shelves and walls of the flower shop she stands in. They’ve never discussed their favorite flowers and how they want to celebrate Valentine’s, it’s not that they don’t want to celebrate it, it’s just not that big of a deal for the two of them. 

But she wants to do something for Harry, to try to show just how much she appreciates him. So here she is, standing in the flower shop trying to figure out which flower to get him. Her eyes scan over the walls until she comes across a beautiful bouquet of red and blue tulips and immediately she knows that these are the perfect ones for him. She doesn’t want to be basic and give him roses, although she did think about it simply because she knows he’ll be over the moon anyway. She quickly walks over to where they’re sitting and grabs them and not long after she’s heading to the checkout section and buying them. Y/N smiles as she thanks the lady and walks out. The flowers were the last thing she needed to complete his gift. 

She didn’t want to go all out for him, she knows he’s not that kind of person. He wants something intimate whenever it’s a holiday or something for the two of them. She had intended on spending the day at home, to share their love and just be with each other. He’s never been one to indulge in all of the big public displays of affection, he prefers moments to be shared privately. So she knew he’d prefer to keep their love just between them, no cameras or loud noises, crowded spaces and no awkwardness. 

She drives to their shared apartment and sits in the parking lot, sending a quick text message to let him know that she’s home and not to come outside so she can put his present together (she left his present part out but she’s almost positive that he knows what she’s been out doing.) Almost immediately she gets a text back with a thumbs up and him saying he’s glad she’s made it home safe and that he can’t wait to see her. She smiles to herself before she begins to assemble it. She places the medium sized wooden basket on her lap and sets the small red shaved pieces inside of them of the basket and begins to set his gifts inside.She sets the folded sweatshirt that has a picture of them together on the front in first, then she sets the heart shaped box of chocolates in, then a couple bottles of his favorite drink and then sprinkles some other snacks in as well. After all that is set, she puts a couple face masks in and the valentine’s card she’s written for him. 

She admires it for a couple of minutes before she sends him another text saying she’s coming in, she grabs the basket and gets out of the car; she makes sure to close and lock the doors before she begins to make her way to their apartment. She quickly unlocks the door and she immediately gasps at what she sees. There’s rose petals scattered all over the floor and ribbons in her favorite colors tied around their smaller chairs and hanging from the ceiling. There’s soft jazz coming from the speaker in the living room and candles lit everywhere. The whole scenery is directly from her pinterest board, something she wouldn’t tell Harry about because she knew he’d try his best on recreating it and she just wants him to do whatever he wants.

She can’t help but to smile lovingly at the effort he’s put into this. She makes her way inside and follows the trail of rose petal leaves on the floor, leading her into their bedroom. The door is opened and allows her to see the inside, more rose petals leading up to the bed and stops in the shape of a big  heart and Harry stands beside it. He’s holding a bouquet of roses, all of them in different colors, with several pink ribbons wrapped around them and a bright smile on his face. He’s dressed handsomely, a white button down shirt with the first three buttons undone to showcase a bit of his chest and his swallow tattoos, a pair of black pants and his hair beautifully styled. 

“Hi, my love.” He says and she smiles at him, soft and lovingly. 

“Hi, baby. What’s all this?” She asks and he shrugs. 

“It’s Valentine’s. Did you think I wouldn’t do anything for my girl?” He says as he walks over to her. She can’t help the heat that runs to her cheeks as she watches him. He softly takes the basket from her hands and kisses her forehead softly. 

“What’s this?” He asks and she smiles shyly. 

“Your valentine’s day gift.” She says and he shakes his head as he continues to smile brightly.

“Thank you, baby, but you didn’t have to. I appreciate you thinking of me, but you will always be my present for every holiday. You’re all I need.”

[heybrine]

Jessie Livin' Pack - Part I

Hiii everyone! This is my first ever CC Pack that I made myself from zero, and I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

So this is the first part of this pack, which focuses on the living room. This set is the base of the living room and has everything you need, from sofa to fireplace with 22 items.

In a few weeks I'll be finishing the Part II of this pack focused in clutter/decor items.

Items include:

Sectional Sofa (all pieces)

Sectional Lounge Chair

3 Curtains for All Wall Height (Left, Right and Middle)

Curtain Rod (from EA)

Round Coffee Table (normal and smaller size)

Console Table

Circular End Table

Round Ottoman

Stucco Fireplace

Stucco Wall with baseboard

2 Bookshelves (Left and Right)

Ceiling Light

Early Access Now Available On Patreon

Public Release: 13th February 2023

[t34-mt]

maanul colony, a rough idea of how the build against the cliff parts looks like, the rest of the village is on top of the cliff. These are flexible plant fiber that creates platforms/structures, and there are also tunnel systems. also, black sand! More text and information under ->

this is a western colony (maak'thao), other colonies have that same similar structure but have regional differences in architecture/ the way of making certain things. This is just one side, id imagines it expanding widely on the side cliffs. Maybe kilometers long for the largest colony of each wind? (west, north, south, and East all have a "main colony" which is just the biggest of the region. Cardinal directions are called "the 4 winds" for maanuls.)

while a portion is on the side of the cliff, build against roots or just on the top of the cliffs as regular houses, a part of the structures is hidden. And is directly carved into the rock, as tunnel systems to access some specific parts easier. Carved storage rooms, small gathering places, rooms for religious practices like wall painting, and so on. this is roughly how the tunnel stuff would look like ->

id also imagine some tunnels being decorated with shells, sadly the examples I found are not the exact color I imagined because i think they would pick stupidly colorful ones since they are very fond of shiny things with color(like a magpie!). And once they start losing their color for x reason they would repaint the shells. A main tunnel leading to an important place would be highly decorated, while smaller narrow tunnels would have just a little bit of shells on the sides if none.

now with specific details id like to point out from the bottom part!

First, the statues (in yellow). The statues are placed all around in front of the habitations, they are deeply set in-ground and are lightly carved in, enough to tell a specific shape but still retain a square figure. here's a closer look at them, with additional text!

Now onto the roots (red) and the bottom platforms (white), these root-like structures are actually a sort of tree that grows down to the cliffs, not every colony has that these are mostly found in west and south. Colonies that don't have these growing around will have bottom platforms made out of wood and will be raised up from the sand floor.

The bottom platforms here are also made out of somewhat flexible but strong plant fiber. These large platforms are not made to live but more for some community gatherings. like for example teaching young ones about sea navigation! Down there is used to store some fishing equipment and boats. And when I say boats you should think of canoe-like ones, used for fishing.

And last is that large fish-net decoration in blue, that thing is used to attach many things, like sand down glass pieces that with the light give a fun colorful reflection effect around. But that fishnet thing can also be used to mourn. By that, I mean in the West if they lost a loved one to the ocean they can take a personal shiny belonging and attach it there. So they will always be remembered by everyone even if they didn't have a body and couldn't do the usual way of mourning.

now for the middle section, starting with these "flags"

the enormous "flag", takes decades to make and are a thing you find in each "main colony" of the 4 winds, the immense rope will harbor at least 3 of those and the things represented in it can sometimes be related to a local folkloric tale, symbolic drawings that each bring a good thing to the colony. Like for example one drawing of fish and waves to bring good luck to fishermen! these are much more like tapestries than flags.

extra images about the nest-like structures, id think of them being made out of leather, various plant fiber, and a bit of wood for support.

and a bit about the top layer, which extends much more but on this drawing you only see the beginning of it.

now with the high tide, there it does not get high enough to swim but still enough to take off to the sea with a canoe, id say it arrives at waist level for an adult maanul. Not every village/large colony have the tide flooding around like this, sometimes it might stops where the statues are placed. since altuyur has 2 moons (maanuls and kyhuines say 3 moons but in really the third, or also called "the infant" is an asteroid caught in the first moon, also called "night mother") i was thinking it would affect the tide cycle tho im not sure yet how it does that since im not that good at astrology.

thank you for reading!

[beenjen]

1// set up more of a plant section in a workout area. Used the table I was working on for my mom before she passed and set my grandmothers ceramic Christmas tree in with the other greenery. It feels right and it is peaceful.

2// C and I revamped my home office - it had become a catch all as I wasn’t working any from the house. I now have a standing desk and changed out my art for a piece mom painted me. I love the progress and am working on a piece to go behind me for video calls. I’m painting a plant/book stand, then maybe mount all my diplomas/certificates?

3// hung the blue painting from my grandmothers. I always loved it, it is only shades of blue and always spoke to me. She gifted it to me when I got my first place and I’ve lovingly tugged it along with me everywhere since 💚

4// hung art in the hall upstairs, only took 12 years hahaha

5// took a leaf out of the dining room table and we are playing with some ideas to split the living room and have some swivel chairs. We had a bench and now it’s all chairs. If is starting to feel more cozy and that’s what we want and what serves us at this time.

6// rearranged some shelves in the living room. I’m feeling more thinning to come, it feels lighter though and that’s a start.

ALSO, I found Js birth certificate and ss card. Then I found Ls ss card, not her birth certificate. I know it’s somewhere, probably stuck to something, however, I just ordered one because I can and it wasn’t as hard as I thought.

We’ve decided to change the kids school this coming year. We had the best of hopes when we started the school we are at, and the principle when we signed up was amazing and progressive. Since he left, it’s not been the same and just isn’t meeting the priorities we have set and the special things the kids have interest in. Too, the rhetoric that is coming to light isn’t lining up with our values. It’s a good change I feel. J is gifted in mechanics/electronics, and that program was cut, plus Lils wants to be in theater, which they only perform one Christmas show a year… we will be best served elsewhere and instead of dread, I feel excitement, so I know it’s the right choice.

Today I gathered all the goodies for the kids valentines, and this will be the last ‘first’ without my mom. Over the weekend I felt almost a crippling sensation of coming out of my skin. I am choosing to look it as growth, and how a snake sheds its skin, I’m becoming a new version of myself? I cleansed the house and opened all the windows. So much forward momentum and positivity is coming and with us, that I can’t help but feel a settled stillness. That life will continue to go on and I will carry her with me, even though she is not here, she’s in everything I do and feel. She’s here even though she’s not.

Peace and happy valentines my lovelies. So much love and prosperity for us this coming year xx

[allgeek-sims]

MEGA PACK MÓVEIS CONTEUDO PERSONALIZADO

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INFANTIL https://www.patreon.com/posts/little-whiners-80677372 https://simsationaldesigns.blogspot.com/2023/09/tasteful-tots-infant-set-with-27-items.html https://simsationaldesigns.blogspot.com/2023/03/over-rainbow-child-and-toddler-bedroom.html https://legacy.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/coastal-collection-part-5 https://www.patreon.com/posts/bble-infant-room-90662844 https://www.patreon.com/posts/crib-infant-room-81372969 https://www.patreon.com/posts/lullaby-nursery-80869728 https://www.patreon.com/posts/freja-crib-and-80065937 https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/tiny-playrooms-kitchen-and-music https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/stylish-wood-dreamy-nursery https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/boho-baby-bedroom https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/functional-baby-diaper-changer-table https://www.patreon.com/posts/teeny-weeny-81561105 https://www.patreon.com/posts/baby-set-part-1-84456646 https://peacemaker-ic.tumblr.com/post/176620685469/roarsome-kids-bedroom-30-new-items-for-toddlers https://www.patreon.com/posts/woodenland-add-78507384 https://www.patreon.com/posts/woodenland-set-77953186 https://www.patreon.com/posts/wooden-clutter-76461997 https://legacy.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/fairylicious https://www.patreon.com/posts/sweet-kids-room-87689952 https://s4cc.syboulette.fr/candy-nursery-cc-sims-4/ https://s4cc.syboulette.fr/little-dino-kid-bedroom-cc-sims-4/ https://s4cc.syboulette.fr/kids-alphabet-cc-sims-4/ https://s4cc.syboulette.fr/dreamy-toddler-set/ https://s4cc.syboulette.fr/morgane-kid-bedroom-set/ https://sims4.aroundthesims3.com/objects/room_kids_24.shtml https://s4cc.syboulette.fr/enchanted-dreams-kid-bedroom-cc-sims-4/ https://www.patreon.com/posts/cozy-nursery-81048135 https://www.patreon.com/posts/cozy-nursery-ii-82358052 https://www.patreon.com/posts/contemporary-91659937

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EXTERIOR https://s4cc.syboulette.fr/playa-beach-cc-sims-4/ https://www.patreon.com/posts/summer-party-set-70809782 https://ravasheen.com/download/slide-into-your-mods/ https://www.patreon.com/posts/cozy-backyard-60391457 https://simsationaldesigns.blogspot.com/2023/04/kallah-seating-outdoor-sectional-and.html https://simsationaldesigns.blogspot.com/2022/11/creta-indoor-outdoor-kitchen.html https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/the-coastal-collection-part-two https://www.patreon.com/posts/download-rope-57228737 https://www.patreon.com/posts/midsummer-eve-67096308 https://www.patreon.com/posts/garden-stories-55242020 https://www.patreon.com/posts/garden-stories-7-54826400 https://www.patreon.com/posts/winter-garden-60953790 https://www.patreon.com/posts/grove-part1-62895335 https://s4cc.syboulette.fr/serenity-hottub-cc-sims-4/

[gojo-enthusiast]

Chapter Three: New Home

mlist<3

My Serial Killer — Suguru Geto Series

It had been 2 months since you moved into Geto’s estate, despite the both of you sharing a bedroom, which also meant you both shared his king size bed, he had not taken advantage of you. He would graze his hands around your waist when he passed by you, or when he went to grab something that you were standing in front of, at those times you would mutter; "Do you have to stand so close?" With a scoff. You were natrually shy, but the tall broad man was calloused, and sweet in speech, yet you would ask yourself— “why would he deserve such pretty words and a timid attitude from me?” Despite all the time and little grazes, he did not touch you more than that.

"Don't be so sour." He growled into your ear. "Ah! Get out of my ear." You waved him off. You heard him chuckle to himself, as he grabbed a cup and walked away. "Fucking asshole." You thought to yourself, rolling your eyes. You began to see this silly side of him, he would come home covered in blood, or his face would look disgusted, or tired. Yet when you appeared in front of him, he would smile, and jokingly play with you, like as if you had become comfortable with him.

You were not.

Later on the day you were sitting on his big sectional, watching some tv show, eating ice cream. You spent a lot of your days doing that, all these shows you never had time to watch, you zombied yourself to the couch. "Hey pretty girl." One of Suguru’s new followers said to you. He was not allowed in the living room, you knew that for sure. "You're not allowed in here." You said plainly, but your hands began to shake. "I had to come see the nice piece of ass Sensai picked up. Are you as innocent as you look?" He smirks. "Please leave me be." You said standing up, to leave the room. "Hey hey hey, it's just me and you. I can take you away from here, let me just taste that pretty pus-" The man said, but was cut off by Geto slamming him down to the ground. "You like messing with what's mine? You know what I did to the last guy who touched my bride?" He growled. "I slit his throat, cut off his dick, and stuffed it into his mouth as he was chocking on his own blood." Geto muttered into his ear. "Now should I cut your tongue out, or cut your hands and feet off? You won't be able to take her anywhere with no feet and hands" Geto questioned. "Please no, I won't mess with her." The man cried. "Choose." He hissed. The man cried, and begged for mercy.

"Y/n, you get to choose. Tongue or limbs?" Geto peered up at you. You stood there frozen, you were not going to influence this behavior, you understood why he did what he did, but taking it to this extreme was beyond wrong. "Let him go. Please Suguru." You huffed out, trying control your tears. "Let's make a compromise, he touched your shoulder with his index finger. I get to cut it off, and the tip of his tongue." Geto eyed you. "Please please let me go!" The man cried out. Suguru stuck the knife into his mouth. "Shut the fuck up!" He hissed. "What about it y/n?" He asked again. You stood there frozen, you couldn't be apart of this. "Please just let him go." You looked away, trying to hide the fear. Geto stiffened up, the last thing he wanted was for you to fear him. Removing the knife from the mans mouth, he lifted the man up from his shirt. "Quit your crying, if it weren't for y/n kindness, I would have gutted you. Today you will walk out here with 9 toes and 9 fingers." Geto scoffed as he drug him out the living room, and disappearing to god knows where.

"Why won't he just be mean to me so I can hate him." You thought to yourself. You felt yourself become soft overtime for the man. By month 5, when everyone thought you were dead, and stopped looking for you. You became used to living at the estate. You loved gardening, so Geto built you a green house, and helped you set up different pots, and beds for your growing plants and foods. You baked like you did back when you ran the bakery. You cooked new things, enjoying having a huge kitchen to move around and cook foreign foods. "Try this." You held the spoon with a homemade sauce you made. Suguru opened his mouth, letting the sauce sit on his tongue. "Good, spicy." He swallowed, and smiling softly. You could see the way he was softer around you, and kept his violent ways, away from your sight. One day especially, one of the guards had started a fight with the other, over money to be exact. And Suguru snapped his neck the moment you were out of sight. You heard a yelp, then silence. You didn't ask, he didn't tell.

"What are you making?" He questioned. "Hehe." You giggled. "Ramen." You chuckled. "Ramen?" He questioned. "Yep, it's my comfort food." You smiled. You were making it the way your mom made it. "My mom used to make it for me when I was living at home. Anytime I had a long day, or just not feeling my best, she would make me this receipe and it cheered me up." You smiled from the thought of your mom. "You wanna see her?" He questioned. You perked up, "What do you mean?" You asked. "Do you... Want to... See Her, your mom?” He chuckled from his emphasizing. "I mean of course." You said. "Okay." He said plainly. That was the end of that conversation and you both sat there, eating ramen in silence, but you were convinced your heart was beating so loud that Suguru had to hear it. You felt the pulsating in your eyes, you were growing soft and drawn to this criminal, yet he seemed to love you in a way that made you feel like you would always be safe.

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

On the Shoreline

Hitsuhina Week: Day 6 - Something beautiful / Waves

Prompts: Waves, stars, vacation together

Rating: K/General but with mild themes

Setting: some time after the No Breaths From Hell oneshot

Synopsis: Upon Momo’s suggestion, Toshiro joins her and a group for a break at a seaside town. However, with his mind is heavy with recent revelations, he wonders why they are all there.

AN: Once again, I’m writing something for both @yearoftheotpevent's challenge and Hitsuhina Week.

This really started as one thing and completely transformed into something else! I was intending to do a short piece about Toshiro and Momo taking some time to relax at a beach, but nope, the angst had to get in there and not only make this fic longer, but change the whole story.

Do I think the Shinigami would actual do this after the events of the No Breaths From Hell one shot? Nope, but I wanted to try it out anyway.

In terms of music while listening I can recommend (in no particular order): Recollection 1-3 , World #07 Blues, going home, and compassion by Shiro Sagisu from the BLEACH osts, And She Translated into Sky by Levi Patel (Spotify or YT) , and Skel and Andra by Sigur Ros (Spotify or YT). If I had to recommend when to listen to these songs, I only three I feel strongly about are listening to And She Translated into Sky, Skel, and Andra in the last section of the fic, where Toshiro and Momo are walking on the beach ;)

Hope you all enjoy it!

__________________________________

Toshiro watches the heat sizzle on the horizon. Despite the sweat dripping down his temple, he doesn’t wave the uchiwa with any vigor. Eventually, he glares at the few clouds in the sky, all too far away to block the sun.

“Why did they have to pick a damn beach of all places?” he grumbles.

He tries to ignore the commotion going on inside, where everyone is trying to decide who is going to stay in which room. He should be in there, but it’ll only irritate him further, and for once it wouldn't just be from everyone’s usual antics and pointless arguing.

It had been a two months, but how can they all be acting like this after what happened?

He tilts his head down and waves his fan faster. He knows everyone has their ways of coping with things, but he'd have thought there would still be some discussion about what happened, even if it was only in passing. Why does it feel like he's the only one stuck on the revelations that came?

The door slides open and Rangiku pokes her head out, looking to the left, and then meeting his gaze when she swivels her head to the right. “There you are! What’re you doing out here?”

Toshiro pushes himself off the wall. “Are you all done in there?” he asks dryly.

“Yeah, everything is sorted.” She grins as if all the arguing hadn’t just occurred. “You know it’s cooler inside, right? When did you leave?”

“Doesn’t matter. Which room am I in?”

Rangiku huffs and steps out of the foyer, closing the door behind her. “I get that it’s hot, Captain, but you really need to relax.”

“I only came because they needed someone to supervise all of you.” That’s not entirely true, and she knows it. It had been Momo who invited him, Rangiku and Granny who encouraged him to accept, and Shunsui who had assigned him and Rukia with watching over everyone – all the while grinning and lamenting that it had been over a decade since Toshiro had a proper holiday in the World of the Living.

“It’s lucky we came at the very beginning of summer, there’s more rooms and not a whole lot of people on the beaches around here. You’ll be able to use Hyourinmaru to your heart’s content.”

“For all of you, you mean.”

“Oh, Captain, don’t be so cruel, I know you’ll use it more for yourself than anyone else!” He goes to rebut while she rummages through her short’s pocket, but he stops when pulls out a key and hands it to him. “Besides, I did a good thing for you! Like you requested, you’ll have a room to yourself with aircon.”

Oh, thank goodness.

“It’s between Madarame and Yumichika’s room and Abarai and Kuchiki’s rooms.”

He wilts. As if the heat isn't bad enough.

_________________________________

Walking into the First Division's main hall, he’s reminded of the days during and after the Quincy invasion. Most of the captains had arrived, but the usual chatter and carrying on is absent.

Iba, who stands closest to the entrance, is the only one who acknowledges his arrival. “Captain Hitsugaya,” he says with a nod.

Toshiro does the same in return as he walks past. "Iba"

Kensei, his arms folded tightly over his chest, leans against a wall next to Shinji, who’s gaze is off to the side, lost in thought. Sui Feng paces from one corner of the room to the other, each time passing Isane, who looks flatly at the ground. Lisa stands in another corner, reading one of her books, her face hidden from view.

Kenpachi, surprisingly on time for once, stands near the meeting hall’s closed doors, his back turned. As Toshiro approaches though, he shifts to look down at him. He grunts in greeting, and looks away. It’s somehow both like him and uncharacteristic of him to act in such a way.

Byakuya and Rukia both arrive, and the quiet discussion they’d been having before dies as soon as they enter the hall. Like him, they’re only greeted by Iba and try to find a place to stand. Byakuya glances at Toshiro and gives a nod. He returns the gesture, and watches as Byakuya and Rukia choose stand next to Isane, who barely manages a smile to Rukia. Both look like they want to say something, but neither speaks.

Toshiro chooses his place, standing near the meeting hall’s entrance but away from Kenpachi. He folds his arms into his sleeves and keeps his gaze on the main hall’s entrance.

The air is tense, and the silence quietly rings in Toshiro’s ears. It’s only broken when Rose and then Mayuri arrive.

The latter starts to speak – what he says Toshiro doesn’t pay attention to but it's enough to make Sui Feng stop and say somethign back to him. Their impending argument is interrupted when the meeting hall’s doors finally open.

Shunsui stands on the other side, his usual smile and casual air nowhere to be seen. Everyone files in and takes their place in the hall. Despite the solemnness of their movements, Toshiro can feel the urgency among them.

They need to discuss what happened. They need answers. How do they stop this? How many of their own had they sent to Hell over these centuries? When would their new enemy next strike? What can they do to defend themselves?

What if this conflict doesn't end like the others? What if they die? What is they have to face their own?

_________________________________

“Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Toshiro blinks out of his revere and lifts his head from his propped-up hand. Momo stands beside the table, smiling and holding a straw hat. He hadn’t even sensed her coming into the lobby.

When the small table fan propels back in his direction, sending a welcomed gust of cold air over his face, he remembers to speak. “Aren’t you going shopping with Matsumoto?”

“Yes, but you should come along too. We can grab some ice cream before we go.”

He scoffs. “Forget it.”

Momo puts her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Hitsugaya-kun, you haven’t left this inn once since we got here!”

“We’ve only been here for a day, dummy.”

“Even so! Don’t you want to see what it’s like around here? It’s been a long time since any of us have been to a new location in the World of the Living.” At his blank stare, she sighs and drops the hand holding her hat to her side while the other points to the left. “At least come out and get some ice cream then. There’s a stall down just down the street.” Then, with a rueful smile. “Besides, you know how long it can take Rangiku-san to get ready.”

He almost lets a chuckle out. He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. Even when not looking at her, he can sense Momo’s persistence. She’s always been stubborn, and he’ll never understand why it always came out whenever it involved getting him to go to places he's never been.

He exhales, making a sound between a groan and a sigh. “Fine.”

To his surprise, Momo doesn’t reach out and grab him to drag him outside and down the street. She puts her hat on, waits for him to stand and leads the way out, patient with his slower and sluggish movements. Before leaving the table, Toshiro grabs his uchiwa.

As soon as they step outside, he considers turning back. It’s hotter than this morning, and there isn’t a cloud in sight to cover the sun.

Momo senses his hesitation and gestures towards a stall a short distance away. “It’s just down there.”

Logically, he knows it’s less than a two minute walk to the stall, but did he really want to make the journey?

“I’m pretty sure they have a peppermint flavor.”

That doesn’t really sell him, but he’ll pretend it does. With more irritation than he intends, he grouses, “Let’s just go.”

Thankfully, Momo doesn’t take it personally and giggles. “You really like peppermint, huh?”

“It’s one of the few good flavors for ice cream.”

“Mango and strawberry are good too.”

He only grunts.

Their shoes clack against the pavement, and where possible they stick to the shade of trees and awnings of shops. Save for the few passing cars, the singing of the cicada, and the distant crashing waves, it’s quiet. There are only a few others outside, going about their daily lives.

He fans himself as they walk, but it doesn’t cool him down much. Heat radiates from pavement through to the soles of his shoes, and a sweat is building on his brow. The humans and Momo walk around as if nothing is wrong. How can they stand this heat?

The gust of warm wind certainly doesn’t help matters. It does, however, make him aware of Momo’s hat. On one side of the hat’s band, there’s a cluster of small flowers, coloured different shades of pink and cream, and two short cords a sparkling bead on each end sway to and fro across the brim. It looks like something she would personally pick out, she always had an inclination towards clothes with floral designs on them.

He had picked some of his clothes the week before the trip, but the rest were chosen by Rangiku. He always had an inclination towards darker colours – like the navy blue tank top and grey shorts he wears now - while she always seemed to find the right balance in brighter colours for him. For all of her faults when it came to going nuts on clothes shopping, she always knows what fashionable clothes to buy.

“The others want to go to the beach later,” Momo says. “Are you going to come along? Or is it too hot for you?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Is Kuchiki going?"

"Yes."

"Then I’ll stay back, she can supervise."

He almost goes back on his word at her saddened frown. “Well, it’s supposed to cooler tomorrow," she says. "You’ll come then, right?”

He can't say 'no'. “Sure.”

Once they’re at the stall, he relishes the chill emanating from the glass display and the cool wind of the fan whirling behind the counter. There’s not too many flavours to choose from, mostly just the popular ones.

Momo pouts. “Ah, it’s a shame they ran out of strawberry.”

He points to the mango flavour. “You could just get that.”

She shrugs. “Maybe, but I like to have two different flavous when I can. What do you think would go well with mango?”

Toshiro considers, perusing each flavour. Eventually, he points to the best one he can think of.

Momo snorts, her fingers pressing over lips in an attempt to suppress a giggle. She fails miserably at his incredulous look.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…Peach?”

“It’s sweet, so is the mango.”

“But…did you pick it because of that reason or because it reminds you of -- ?” She starts giggling again.

Why are his cheeks burning? No, this won’t do. He’d honestly picked it because he thought the two would work together. “As if I’d picked it for that reason! We’re not children anymore!”

Realising the commotion they’re causing, and sensing the growing queue behind them, Toshiro is quick to order his two scoops of peppermint ice cream in a cup and storms off to the side, waiting for Momo under the shadow of a table’s umbrella.

Trying to ignore the stares of a few of the humans, he takes the small plastic spoon and digs in. He’s pleasantly surprised; it’s one of the better ice creams he’s had, and it’s quite cold. Gradually, with each spoonful, it has the effect of both cooling him and his annoyance down.

Did she really think he chose peach because of her name? Did it remind her of when they were kids and he’d only remember to buy peaches when she was there? That hadn’t happened since they were very young.

Momo joins him almost a minute later, and they set off back to the inn. She takes a spoonful of each scoop, and he’s about to grumble about the fact she went for his suggestion in the end until she cringes.

Her whole face scrunches up and she makes a sounds between a yelp and a gasp. For a second, he fears she’s hurt. "Wha--?"

"It’s really cold!"

Now it’s his turn to hold in a chuckle. He too fails, and he doesn’t do anything to stop it, even as she complains.

“Oooh! You knew, didn’t you?”

 “Yeah,” he chortles.

“Just because you have a tolerance for the cold!”

“You’re being childish, Hinamori.”

“I could say the same for you, Shiro-chan. You could’ve warned me!”

“That’s ‘Captain Hitsugaya’, Hinamori.”

Feeling he got the last word in, he smirks and slowly eats his ice cream right in front of her. She half glares at him. It’s not long before she lets out a huff, and what little irritation she had leaves her. "It's not a big deal, I'll just have to take smaller bites, and at least it tastes good.”

They continue on the pavement. Despite her bravado before, she still hestiates when she scoops up smaller bits of ice cream and eats them. He smirks, but otherwise doesn't tease her like before.

For the first time since he got here, he feels himself easing a little, and he looks to the source. Momo always has this effect on him at certain moments, where it was just the two of them and no one would be interrupting them. Maybe it’s seeing her this relaxed and content, it makes him want to be the same. Even as they were at the stall and browsing the ice cream flavours, he didn’t feel the usual apprehension to interacting with the person behind the counter – an old habit from his day in Junrinan, he’d realized years ago – because she was there with him.

It's not enough to lighten his mind of the thoughts that weigh him down, but they don’t churn in his head like waves in a stormy sea. He could put into words what has been bothering him. He could tell her right now, and maybe he’d be lighter. Maybe she’d already know and understand, because maybe she is still thinking about these things too.

“Hinamori…” He trails off when she looks over her shoulder at him. Momo walks in front of him in bright and colourful clothes, nothing like the uniform she takes pride in. She cradles the cup of mango and peach ice cream that’s already starting to melt. Her cheeks are flushed – or sunburned, he dreads – and up until now she’d been smiling. The little flowers and cord on her hat flutter in the wind, small and strangely fragile.

He walks past her. “Forget about it.”

She quickly comes in front of him and asks, “What is it?”

It’s rare for her to prod. Had he detected a hint of desperation in her voice? Had she noticed something in him and had been wanting to ask? He wouldn’t put it past her, she and Rangiku both have that uncanny ability to sense when he’s off kilter even when he doesn’t show it.

But now is not the time to tell her.

“Just make sure Matsumoto doesn’t spend too much, she could end up using Division funds.”

He maintains a stoic exterior in the face of her small, unconvincing smile. “Of course.”

_________________________________

A stick of incense had already been lit; someone else had visited Jushiro's gave before him. It won’t be long before it’s completely burnt out.

Toshiro makes his prays while the incense still burns, putting his hands together, closing his eyes, and bowing his head.

But what can he say? No words or sentiments come to mind. Not even hopes or wishes.

He does, however, recall a few memories of Jushiro. The first of when he first met the older captain; his long, white hair was tied back and he looked less pale than when Toshiro last saw him. He remembers the bags under his eyes getting progressively more prominent, and his absence from meetings becoming more frequent. At some point, the hair tie disappeared. His smile and optimism though, that only vanished in dire situations, but they always returned with as much mirth and sincerity as soon as the problem has been resolved.

How sharply those two things stood in contrast to what had transpired at this very spot.

Toshiro recalls with a repressed shiver the Jigoku no Rinki that had floated in the air around the grave just a week ago. A sign that the balance had been tipped, that Hell held enough power to break the peace. And they gave them that power. It was the price they all paid for becoming as strong as they did. This was the price they paid for allowing Aizen to grow as powerful as he did, and for imprisoning him when he was one of the beings keeping the balance from tipping. The irony sickens him.

He opens his eyes. Why is he here? Could Jushiro even hear prayers from where he is?

To think Souls like Jushiro are ending up there, fighting against all of it’s creatures and victims. He had no way of warning them of what they’ve been doing all of these centuries. What had he endured?

He can't keep the other possibility from turning over in his mind, and it makes his stomach churn. What if he isn't fighting against the creatures of Hell, but had become one of them?

Ichigo had told the captains what he'd seen who he'd fought against. Amongst his recollections was Sogyo no Kotowari, but the description he gave was not like the bankai Toshiro knew. It sounded warped and elongated to the point of being unnatural. He’s certain Hell had altered the former captain in more than just his bankai. How much has his appearance changed? Would he recognize Jushiro if saw him?

And not for the first time, Toshiro wonders if he will have to cross blades with him.

_________________________________

“Goodnight, sir,” Rangiku says while leaning on Momo and Hisagi. “Call if you need anything.”

Toshiro, his back turned to her, rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “We’re back at the inn, Matsumoto. Why would I need to call you?”

Rangiku giggles. “I didn’t mean on the phone!”

Momo laughs nervously. “But then he’d wake up everyone else, Rangiku-san.”

Rangiku considers for a moment, her head swaying from one side to the other. “…Oh yeah.”

“You sure drank a lot, huh?” Hisagi says.

“Hey, you drank too!” Rangiku retorts.

He chuckles. “Yeah, but not as much as you!”

Even in the dark, Toshiro can see the flush in his lieutenant and the Ninth Division's cheeks. He knows for Rangiku it's the sake, but for Hisagi it's a guess between the alcohol or from being that close to Rangiku.

Why am I even paying attention to this? Toshiro wonders.

Mercifully, they reach Momo and Rangiku’s room.

“Thank you again for paying for dinner, Captain Hitsugaya,” Hisagi says with a bow of his head.

Momo smiles at Toshiro. “Yes, thank you Hitsu – Captain Hitsugaya.” She waves her free hand. “Goodnight, and sleep well.”

Toshiro gives her a half-hearted wave back and half turns away.

Hisagi opens their door and helps Momo get Rangiku into the room as she groans about having drank too much. He comes out a few seconds later, closing the door behind him and walking into the room just opposite.

Toshiro remains in the hallway after Hisagi shuts his door. Save for a few shuffles in Momo and Rangiku’s room, the faint snoring from Ikkaku and Yumichika’s room down the hall, and the waves crashing in the distance, it’s dead quiet.

He should go to bed, but goes back the way he came, coming down to the ground floor and then out into the back courtyard. There are tables and chairs scattered throughout, some with umbrellas and others not. Beyond them, a railing lines a wooden deck that extends out to give a view of the main beach in the distance. Beneath him, only the streetlights, outdoor lanterns, and neon signs of bars, restaurants, and a convenience store illuminate the town.

He goes to the railing and rests his forearms along the top. The moon is a crescent, and he can still make out the tide crashing and receding. For the first time since he got here, it’s quiet. He’d longed for a moment like this, by himself and in cooler conditions. He thought it would be what he needed, but as he looks out over the town, it doesn’t take long for his mind to wonder. None of the humans here - or anywhere for that matter - truly know what is happening. If they did, how would they react?

His mind recalls the few times he was sent on a mission to the World of the Living, believing he was saving their world and keeping the balance. His subordinates would've felt the same, he imagines. Are they working on the reports he and Rangiku left behind right now? Are the captains and lieutenants still working to try and find out more about Hell? What if Hell is planning an attack? What if he -- ?

He shakes his head, then lets it fall to rest on his arms.

He pivots his mind to what had happened just a few hours ago. With the exception of Rukia and Ichika, they’d all gone to a shokudo for dinner. Rangiku had gotten started early on the sake, encouraging Hisagi, Ikkaku, and Renji to join her. It didn’t take long for the four of them to be carrying on, quibbling one minute then laughing together the next. He sat next to Rindou, who signed to him and the others about the food and what he had done today at the beach and in the town. Opposite them, Momo sat between Nanao and Kiyone, but every now and then she would glance in his direction. When he caught her, she’d either smile and return her focus to either Nanao or Kiyone, or she’d ask him something: ‘What did you order to drink?’, ‘How’s your dinner?’, and ‘Do you need extra ice?’.

It was a light-hearted atmosphere, but far removed from how he felt. Again, he wonders how they can act like this after everything they’d seen and heard. he almost had the urge to scream at them. Why weren't they discussing what they'd learnt? Why weren't they back at the Soul Society doing something about this?

But more than that, as he’d stared into his dinner, and as he glares at his feet now, he wonders why he can’t be like them. He can carry on professionally, continuing with paperwork and scheduling and leading his division, but outside of that…

He’d struggled in a similar way with the peace, always hypervigilant of a new threat that could appear after the war against the Quincy. He wishes he’d never lost that feeling, then maybe he wouldn’t feel as though he were struggling to stay afloat.

With a sigh through his nose, he straightens and walks back to his room. He doesn't plan to go to sleep, he knows he'll just be staring at the ceiling. He'll take Hyourinmaru, go somewhere secluded, and train.

_________________________________

“Why do you persist in coming here every week?”

Toshiro stays placid in the face of Mayuri’s irritation. The Twelfth Division captain hasn’t looked over at him, too focused on the readings a console produces.

Around them, there’s six division members busily doing the same, but two whisper their findings to each other and note them down on clipboards. However, every now and then, each officer glances over in the direction of the two captains. The only Soul who doesn’t is Nemu, who sits next to Akon and watches him as he types things into the system and explains to her what he's doing.

While being led to see Mayuri by Akon just a few minutes ago, Toshiro noticed in other lab rooms how frantic the officers were. They spoke in clipped whispers, and were quick to turn their backs when they realized he was passing by. By comparison, this lab is calm.

Toshiro folds his arms into his sleeves. “Perhaps it would be best if we speak in your office, Kurotsuchi.”

“And why should we do that?”

With a final glance to the others in the room, he says, “I’m checking for any updates on the de-zombification side effects.”

Now Mayuri whips around to him, his headpiece almost hitting the back of Akon’s head; neither his lieutenant or Nemu flinch. “And it’s as I’ve said: we’re still investigating all avenues.” The Twelfth Division Captain thrusts a hand to his console. “As is, we have more urgent matters at hand. Hell has made itself known, and we have been tasked with investigating how the Jigoku no Rinki was able to appear here, among other things. As a captain of Gotei Thirteen, you must say this take precedence, correct?”

Toshiro withholds a glare, because of course Mayuri is right. He should leave it there, just thank him for his time and go, but he’s lost his patience. “It’s been over ten years,” he whispers.

“And you rarely asked me about progress in those years,” Mayuri retorts, choosing to not lower his voice in return. “Suddenly, you’re in here every week and disrupting our work as a result.”

“It’s not my intention, Kurotsuchi.”

“Then explain yourself, if you would be so kind.” His voice is almost venomous, but Toshiro doesn’t back down.

He closes the gap between them and keeps his voice quiet. “The last progress you made was over three years ago, and it got shelved when the last solution failed to produce any results. As far as I’m aware, you haven’t explored any other options since, or if you have, you have not made me or Matsumoto aware of them.”

“Are you questioning my rigor? Are you not grateful anymore that I saved you and your lieutenant?”

“You know I am. If not for you, we would’ve died there and then. I am simply asking why you haven’t --”

“Then leave it be! How dare you make demands when I have done that much for you!”

“Matsumoto doesn’t have much longer left to live!”

Mayuri’s annoyance alleviates somewhat, his frown deepening and turning into one of confusion. After a pause, he speaks more quietly. “It’s not her you’re concerned for though, is it, Captain?”

That catches Toshiro off guard, and he grunts in surprise. Of course he’s concerned for Rangiku, and up until now he’d had little regard for his own life being shortened. He’d willingly take the price it paid, for better or worse.

Since Hell had made itself known, however, he’d been on edge. He’d let the anxiety he kept pushing down and simmering away get the better of him. If he dies in combat now, the Soul Society would have no choice but to perform a Konso Reisai twelve years after his passing. Could they find a way to return the balance by then? He would've once unequivocally said ‘yes’, but after everything that happened, from betrayals in their own ranks to the return of the Quincy, he didn’t know anymore. If they had given Hell so much power without realizing all of these years, just how long would it take to restore the balance between all the worlds?

He has no doubt Mayuri is investigating all of this, trying to determine the best course of action for Shunsui and the rest of the Gotei Thirteen. But when would it happen? What if it took too long? What will become of him and Rangiku?

“Master Mayuri.”

Both captains look towards Nemu. The young Soul appears as neutral as her voice had been, but her hand is fisted into the sleeve of Akon’s uniform.  The Twelfth Division lieutenant’s attention had also been diverted away from the console, and he looks between his captain and Toshiro, waiting for someone to speak.

Mayuri huffs, his anger cooling a fraction. “By my estimates, you and Lieutenant Matsumoto have well over a hundred and fifty years left. We have time to find a remedy and restore your lost lifespan.” He levels Toshiro with a hardened gaze. “If you continue to come here for any reason other than findings towards any of our research on Hell, I will have no choice but to report this to the Captain-Commander. Are we clear?”

To Toshiro’s bewilderment, he actually waits for his answer. He has no choice, and withholding a cringe, he nods.

Satisfied, Mayuri turns away and waves a hand towards the lab’s entrance. “Akon, escort him out of the division.”

“Yes, sir.”

Toshiro remains rooted to the spot for a moment longer. It’s useless, he knows, but he somehow hopes Mayuri will change his mind, will give him even an inkling into anything he’s found.

After a beat, he follows Akon out. Neither say anything as they walk down the corridors.

It’s not her you’re concerned for though, is it, Captain?

How had he known? Did Mayuri have the same fears? That he will perish sooner rather than later, and he too could be forced into Hell if they do not find a solution to restoring the balance between all the worlds? It’s hard to imagine someone like him worrying about such things.

But then, he did have Nemu, and for all of his faults and failings, he was treating this Nemu better than the last.

Toshiro shakes his head. Everything seems wrong. Because if Mayuri Kurotsuchi of all people can understand what he’s going through, then the world has surely gone mad.

He knows as soon as he leaves here, he’ll go train. It’s the best way to deal with the pent-up emotions. It's the only way he can think of deal with their current predicament when they lack any answers.

_________________________________

Ichika’s laughter comes through the walls. Despite the fact it was the reason for his rude awakening, Toshiro’s oddly relieved to hear it. He’d seen her in the aftermath of Hell’s invasion of the World of Living; she was pale and quiet, clinging to Renji so tight her knuckles were white. She also hadn’t bothered him with spontaneous visits to the Tenth Division office since the incident.

Regardless, after two weeks, she was running around and causing mischief like always – at least according to Ikkaku and Renji. Children have that ability to bounce back, even in times of uncertainty. He remembers when he could do it, but it is a trait that has slowly faded over time.

Toshiro groans as he sits up. A tiny sliver of daylight piercing his room through the curtains. He checks his denreishikai; it’s just after eight in the morning. He’s usually up with the sun, but being on this holiday in this God forsaken heat continues to make him sluggish.

He rises from his bed and goes to the wind to draw the curtains back. At least the clouds are back today. He has a view of the biggest beach in the area, and judging from the gleam one person’s head gives off, he guesses it’s Ikkaku doing laps in the ocean; Yumichika probably isn’t far from him, likely being one of the people sitting under a beach umbrella.

If they’re already there, then the others are likely not far behind. As if on cue, he hears Renji and Ichika leaving their room, excitedly chattering about going down to the beach. As they pass his room, Rukia comments on her husband’s clothing – “Did you pick that shirt? And what does ‘Sun’s out, guns out’ mean?” – but Toshiro doesn’t hear the rest over Ichika’s laughter.

He glances at the bag Hyourinmaru is hidden away in. He briefly recalls his training from last night - not that he was able to do much without drawing unwanted attention from locals. He'd practiced his zanjutsu in a forested area on the other side of town, and had returned to inn in the early hours of the morning. At least it had tired him out enough to make him fall asleep.

With a long exhale, he focuses back on today. If he’s going to use his zanpakuto while at the beach, he’ll have to be discreet about it; and he has no doubt the others will be clamoring for him to make shaved-ice.

He goes to the bathroom, which is several degrees warmer than his room. After showering and getting changed into a shirt and a pair of board shorts, there’s a knock on his door.

“Captain, are you awake yet?” Rangiku asks in a singsong tone.

Toshiro sighs. All of this cheerfulness is too much after just waking up. “Yeah.”

She opens the door, but she’s not alone.

“We’ve got your breakfast here, Hitsugaya-kun.” Momo holds out a plastic bag and takeaway coffee cup. “I just chose what I thought you’d might like, I hope that’s okay.”

Rangiku enters his room, but stops only a few steps in. “Captain, it’s freezing in here!” she complains, rubbing her bare arms. “How do you stand it?”

“It’s hot,” is all he says as comes over to them. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

“We figured you could do with a sleep in,” Rangiku says. “It’s so rare that it happens, and you’re on a break, you’re supposed to do things like that.”

“I’m supposed to be supervising over all of you.”

“Supervising,” Rangiku says under breath with a sigh. “Honestly, Captain.”

“So is Captain Kuchiki,” Momo says at the same time. “Honestly, Hitsugaya-kun, it’s okay to relax even when you’ve been assigned to watch over us.”

He shakes his head. “In any event, what’s happening today? I assume you’re all going down to the beach?”

_________________________________

Toshiro watches Granny hanging the washing. He’d tried to help her, but she’d waved him off and told him to go rest inside.

“You hardly ever get a break these days,” she said. “You’re such a hard worker, but you should rest more often.”

He'd made a pot of tea, and by the time she’s done it’ll be cool enough for her to drink. He'd also set up a bowl of amanatto and placed it next to the clay cups on the tray.

As he waits, he fiddles with one of his old spinning tops. He’d dug it out from the closet, buried behind futon mattresses and other things from his childhood. He still doesn’t understand why Granny keeps most of it, she’s always been a practical person who hates clutter.

He slowly wraps the cord around the top of the toy, but never releases it. He holds it loosely in his fingers, but his gaze remains on Granny. She bends down to her basket and pulls out another sheet to hang. In isolation, it's a peaceful image.

Her life rarely changes. She still goes to the same stalls and shops for food and household supplies. She still drinks the same tea blends, washes the same clothes and linens, and wakes up and goes to sleep at the same times every day.

Her life is simpe and despite it’s repetitiveness, it’s unplanned. Things are just the way they are, and they work for her.

For the first time in decades, he wishes he could return to that life. Even with all the negatives that came with it, compared to life he leads now, it’s peaceful and far less complicated.

He planned things to a fault, he should’ve known it would be his downfall one day; or at least, lead to disappointment when something came and ruined everything. Of course the peace couldn’t last, something had to disrupt it. Life is never the same, it's never consistent. How long had he expected it to go on for?

But that was the thing. He never made plans for the peace, he had simply lived in it. It was almost like his life before he became a captain, only with more responsibilities he could handle.

Granny turns to him after hanging up the last of the washing. Her smile widens when she spots the teapot and bowl of amanatto. He can’t help but smile back despite the growing heaviness within him.

He doesn't plan to tell her about Hell yet. He won’t break this peace for her.

_________________________________

It’s far too hot, even under the shade.

Toshiro lies his head and torso over the picnic table, a cup half filled with melting shaved ice in one hand and a spoon in the other. The shelter above and around him is made of wood and obstructs the view of onlookers that weren’t on the beach. Combined with having so few humans around, it allows him to discreetly use his zanpakuto to make shaved ice in one of it's corner.

Rangiku had gone out and bought bottles of syrup, paper cups, and wooden spoons from a nearby convenience store. All of it is stored in a freezer bag along with a bucket of the ice he’d conjured up five minutes ago. Hyournmaru lies out of sight in his own bag, but the cold flowing form the blade brushes along the floor of the shelter, cooling his feet and ankles. He considered himself a glorified placeholder for the table, and so long as he is here, no humans would come along and accidentally spot his weapon.

With some effort, he raises himself to take another spoonful of slushy ice and munches on it. He watches the group on the beach, all doing various things. Ikkaku and Hisagi race each other, doing several laps in the ocean. If it weren’t for the heat bearing down on him above and the hot sand between the shade and the ocean, he’d be doing laps himself.

He slides his gaze over to Kazui and Ichigo, both wading into the water while Orihime collected seashells along the shoreline ; they’d taken the train to come down for the day. Orihime finds a shell that makes her grin and she jogs to the Abarai family. Ichika makes a sandcastle with Rukia, giggling when Renji comes up behind her with a wreath of seaweed and tickles her with it before draping it over one of the walls. It’s then Orihime gets their attention and hands them a few seashells to decorate another wall.

Further up the beach, Nanao walks up to Rangiku, who sunbathes on a towel. She lectures Rangiku about something -- likely the fact she's sunbathing in the first place -- and his lieutenant squints up at her in response. Yumichika, relaxing under an umbrella, makes a comment which makes Rangiku snap at him and Nanao wearily rolls her head to one side.

Rindo, Momo and Kiyone had gone for a walk up the beach to the rockpools. Toshiro spots them as specks in the distance, and the footprints they'd left behind are gradually washed away every time the waves surge in.

He takes another spoonful of shaved ice, then eases back down to the table and begins to doze off. There’s only the darkness beneath his eyelids, the crashing of waves, the hot breeze that blows through, Hyourinmaru's cold circling around his ankles and the distant voices of the Shinigami and humans. He can’t relax, ending up in a state between being awake and on the verge of napping.

It’s twenty minutes later when he’s startled by a call of his name. He opens his eyes and turns his head just in time to see Kazui and Ichika racing towards him. He lets go of his completely melted shaved ice to raise himself up.

“Captain Hitsugaya!” Kazui calls out again, grinning.

“He heard you the first time, dummy!” Ichika chastises.

He thinks to lecture her about calling Kazui a dummy -- it seems like the responsible thing to do -- but someone beats him to it.

“Don’t call Kazui-chan bad names, Ichika-chan!” Momo calls out from behind. She pants and tries to keep her hat on as she rushes to catch up to them.

Ichika blushes slightly in shame, but otherwise doesn’t respond. Kazui isn't phased, his grin still in place.

With as much energy as he can muster, Toshiro lazily waves his hand in greeting before the children come to a stop in the shelter. “Babysitting?” he says to Momo.

She shakes her head. “They just happened to be on their way to see you too.”

He returns his attention to Kazui and Ichika. “You two looking for some shaved ice?”

They both nod eagerly.

“Papa said you make the best shaved ice ever,” Ichika says.

I’m the only one here who can, he thinks. He only grunts as he twists around to the freezer bag. The ice had gotten more slushy, but it's still usable. “Which flavours do you want?”

“Watermelon!” they say in unison.

Toshiro smirks. “Good choice.”

He takes out the syrup and puts it on the table, then scoops two cups into the ice and sticks a spoon in each. He hands them over to the children. “It’s all yours.”

As expected, they go crazy with the syrup, completely dying the ice red. Momo intervenes before it can get too messy, making sure most of the flavoring stays in the cups.

“You two should eat that under the shade,” she says, pointing at the umbrellas Yumichika and Nanao rest under. “And make sure you bring the empty cups back here, okay?”

Toshiro withholds a chuckle. Since when is she their mother?

Ichika and Kazui both nod to Momo, then turn back to Toshiro.

“Thank you, Captain Hitsugaya,” Kazui says with a quick bow of his head.

Ichika does likewise. “Thank you!”

He waves a hand. "Enjoy, I guess."

They take that as their cue to run off. They go to Yumichika and Rangiku, who both cease their argument when the children arrive and make room for them under the umbrellas.

He turns to Momo, but she’s still watching Ichika and Kazui. She's flushed across her cheeks and shoulders, and sand dusts her shins and sandaled feet. Strangely, he senses hesitation from her, as though she is nervous about turning to face him. It’s in her posture, which though looking relaxed to most, has the signs she’s trying to hide. Her arms are loosely braced over her midsection, and her shoulders are a few inches higher than normal.

“You want one too?” he asks, getting her attention.

Momo shakes her head, smiling. “Oh, no, I was just coming to see how you were doing.”

He ignores the small, warm flutter her concern sends through his chest and takes an empty cup out of the bag. “You might as well have one.”

She considers for a moment. “…Well, it is getting hotter.”

“Orange, lime, or watermelon? Matsumoto didn’t buy mango and the strawberry is empty.”

 “You remembered?”

He hides his embarrassment by saying nothing and stooping lower than necessary to fill up the cup with ice.

From behind, she giggles. “In that case, orange please.”

He fishes out the syrup and a spoon before he twists back around and hands everything to her.

“I’m sure everyone appreciates you doing this,” she says while pouring the syrup.

“Feels like that the main reason I’m here,” he mutters drily.

“That’s not true!”

“I didn’t mean it, dummy.”

She makes a sound between a sigh and a chuckle. “Now who’s calling people bad names.”

He rests back down on the table, watching as she takes a spoonful of orange ice and chomps down on it. She gives an appreciative hum and her smile turns into a grin. “Thank you, Shiro-chan.”

And despite her old habit, he’s certain if he were in a better mood he’d give her a small smile in return. “Captain Hitsugaya.”

She continues to eat as if she hadn’t heard him.

It feels like this is where their interaction should end, that she should walk off back to the others. She stays rooted to the spot, and it’s unnatural to him.

“You didn’t have to come check on me,” he says.

She pauses, staring down into the shaved ice. “I know.”

Why did it sound like she’d taken his comment as a jab? His frown deepens. “Weren’t you going to the rockpools before?”

“Yeah, but Rindou-kun and Kotetsu-san wanted to go out further than I intended.” She raises a foot and wriggles her toes. “I wasn’t wearing the right shoes to go with them.”

She isn’t lying, but he senses there’s more to it. As he considers whether to prod any further, she suddenly stops eating, sticking the spoon into the ice. “Have you just been lying here all day?”

He shrugs. “More or less.”

“But that’s no good. You should have something to do here!” She shakes her head. “The majority voted for a beach, but...maybe we should’ve gone somewhere else.”

“Why do you…?” Why does that strike a nerve within him? Why did she feel the need to make sure he is having a good time here? She didn’t belong under the shade, she loves the sun and places like this; most Shinigami did.

Why is he even here?

He gives a frustrated grunt. “Just go back to the others already.”

At her widened, alarmed eyes, he realizes he’d said it with the irritation he'd been trying to hide and with more strictness than he’d intended. Damn this heat! No, he can’t blame it on the weather. He’d let the heaviness in his mind get the better of him, and the uncertainty about why they are here.

He forces himself back up, ignoring the strain in his arms. After a beat, he begins to apologise. “I didn’t mean --”

She lays a hand on his. She curls her fingers loosely around his wrist, a silent way of saying he can remove himself from her grasp. Her hand is colder than usual, thanks to the shaved ice. But had they always been this small? How had he only just noticed it?

“I get it. I know the heat gets to you,” Momo says. She looks out to the sea for a pause before continuing. “I-I know it’s not much, but in the evening, it’ll be cooler. If you want to and you’re up for it, we can come back here and walk along the beach after dinner.”

“Why do you want to do that?”

“Because you deserve to enjoy the beach too.”

I don’t even like beaches, is what he’d say aloud, but he won’t.

"And…" She purses her lips, and her cheeks become a shade darker. "We're friends, aren't we? I want to spend some time with my friends. Don't you want to do the same?"

There’s that look, the one she always had when she tried to help others. He’ll never tell her how much it meant to him to see she was still capable of showing that gaze after everything she went through.

At his lack of a response, her gaze flutters to the ground. “I mean, if you’d rather be alone, then that’s okay too. Just so long as you’re able to enjoy yourself.”

“No.” He gentle extracts his hand from her grasp. She raises her head, confused.

It’s then he feels how tired he is. It’s not lethargy from the heat, it’s something deeper. Something that was the result of holding back too much, and maybe, as she waits for him to elaborate, it’s time she knew about it. “We’ll go together.”

His heart clenches at the stunned softness in her eyes. Eventually, she smiles. “Okay.”

“Oi, Hinamori-san!”

Both turn to look in the direction of Hisagi, who waves to her. “We’re doing the race now!”

“I’ll be there!” she calls back. Then to Toshiro. “I promised them I’d be the time keeper for a race they’re doing.”

Toshiro watches Hisagi, Ikkaku, Renji, Ichigo, Kazui, and Ichika all gather together on the sand. Nanao stands off to the side a small towel in her hand – probably the as a flag to signal for them to start. Rangiku uses the end of an umbrella to draw a long line in the sand.

Toshiro doesn’t see the point of racing on a beach, especially in this heat and with all of their abilities, so all he has to offer is, “Whatever keeps them entertained.”

Momo backs out of the shelter, and with the spoon still in her mouth, says something to the effect of, “I’ll see you later.”

He watches on as Momo rushes down and takes her place next to Nanao, who hands her a stop watch.

 Kazui quickly eats the rest of his shaved ice, while it seems Ichika had passed hers to Rukia. She and Renji are amping each other up, but Ichika bursts into laughter.

I want to spend some time with my friends. Don't you want to do the same?

They've never been a normal group, but this seems in character for all of them. For the first time since coming here , Toshiro has a fleeting sentiment that he's glad they can act like they always do despite what looms over them.

_________________________________

He’s rarely wondered about the future. He always did schedules for division-related activities, and would keep appointments made in mind when planning his week or month. But he never thought of any of these things beyond what was necessary. He never considered what his own future held.

There were only four instances he can think of when he pondered on what lay ahead for him: the first was when he had to leave Granny to go to the Academy, the second was when he'd been appointed captain of the Tenth Division, the third was while he recovered from his injuries after Aizen’s defeat, and the fourth was in first few months after the war against the Quincy ended.

He’s always considered himself someone who lives in the present, who only plans for the future if the present shows him he needs to. Even then, he only went as far as he needed to, never going beyond into the 'what ifs' that weren't related to the task at hand.

Lately, he wonders how the buildings around him will change as the years go by. Will they need repairs from unprecedented weather events? Will they be renovated to look different? Will the Tenth Division get another barracks as it’s forces grow in numbers?

He wonders how tall the trees in his division will grow, and if any of them will have to be cut down.

He also wonders what beings he has yet to meet. Unless Ichigo and Orihime plan to have another child, he doubts there will be more than three humans he'll ever have to introduce himself to. He keeps away from the Arrancar where possible, but he's certain there's Souls still out there he will cross paths with more than once. What new recruits will have to introduce himself to? Will any of the captains retire and be replaced?

He wonders when Hyourinmaru’s Completed form will become his true bankai, where he will no longer have to wait for the petals to fall. He wonders if the transformation will ever be less painful or strainious.

He wonders when Hell will make it’s next move. In the next year? Or month? Or week? Or tomorrow? He can see Jushiro's bankai elongating out of Hell's gates, a grotesque distortion of what they were all once familiar with. How did the rest of him look? Would he remember who any of them were? And if he did, would he resent them for what they unknowingly did?

He wonders how much longer Granny and Rangiku have to live.

He wonders how much longer he has left.

Prior to the completed form, he could never picture how he’d looked as an adult. In a strange way, it’s as if the world has told him he won’t make it, that he will only transform into that age but not live to experience it. He can’t picture Rangiku as being older than she is, or any of the his fellow Shinigami for that matter.

That of course included Momo, who sits in front of him, talking while putting paperwork in front of him. He hasn’t heard a word she’s said. Even though he can’t picture her as an adult, he’s mostly certain she has a future as one. One where she smiles often, and still calls him ‘Shiro-chan’ because old habits die hard. She still sees Renji and Izuru for the occasional meet up, and goes with Rangiku to bars and carries her back to the Tenth Division barracks. She starts a bigger literature club, where members will talk about the books they’ve read and she will make sure everyone gets a chance to talk. He can see her taking up painting on top of the drawing she already does, and her room will have the faint smell of paints and drawing charcoal.

Maybe there would’ve been a time he could see himself there too, but that window seems to get narrower and narrower the heavier these thoughts make him feel.

“Are you all right?”

Toshiro tries to keep his reaction muted, but a startled gasp still leaves him when her hand comes over his forearm. He’s about to come up with some excuse, but her concern softens him.

“You weren’t here, were you?” she says.

He looks at the paperwork, unable to deny it.

She glances down her hand, and appears surprised she touched him. She's quick to lean back, but her hand slides off his arm and remains close by. “What’s on your mind?”

The top line of the document in front of him reads ‘Agenda for joint training session 34’. He takes a stab at what she was saying before. “It’s nothing to worry about, just trying to figure out schedules for the next three months. If we try to do a joint training session next month, it will have to be in the first week.”

Her brow twitches, trying to not frown. Her eyes search his, but again he looks down at the paperwork.

“Yes, of course.”

It’s as she says this that he realizes the document has nothing to do with a joint training session for his division. It was for one with Third Division; she likely showed him as an example of what they could do next time for a kido training session.

He bites the inside of his cheek, ashamed. He's supposed to be a captain, where was his focus?

He waits for her to correct him. Then she’ll try to pry it all out of him, because she always wants to knows what’s on his mind. He doesn’t want to snap at her, would never do such a thing under any circumstances. But this weight, these thoughts, they were beginning to take up more space within him. He doesn’t know how he’ll react to her trying to navigate through them with him.

“Captain,” she says, surprising him enough to make him look up. Her smile is small and unsure, but she persists. “Actually, I didn’t just come here to discuss training sessions. The Women’s Association is looking to fund a vacation to the World of the Living. It’s a chance for everyone to have a break from work, we haven’t had a proper one in over ten years, right?”

“Why are you bringing this up?”

Her smile almost wobbles away, but she finds the strength to not only keep it in place, but to widen it too. “I’m inviting you to come along.”

________________________________

Compared to the afternoon, the sand is cooler under Toshiro’s feet. He strolls down to the sea, hands in his pockets and head bowed. Momo is behind him, but she pauses every now and then pick up seashells.

He doesn’t stop until he reaches the shoreline. The last sliver of the sun disappears over the horizon, colouring the sky dark blues and purples. A lone boat travels across the waves to a nearby dock. Behind him, a few cars whizz by and people go out for the night to bars and restaurants. Rangiku and a few of the others are among them, going to a izakaya tonight for dinner and drinks. He can already imagine how silly they’ll be acting by the time he and Momo rejoin them later tonight on the way back to the inn.

With a shake of his head, he turns his attention to the waves lapping at his toes. The next surge sends a wave over his feet. The froth of the sea spins around his ankles and the cold of the water tingles across his skin before receding away, only to return seconds later. It’s oddly relaxing, and he’s entranced by the motions of the waves. They come and go, come and go, never ceasing. It’s been like this for millions of years, since before he or anyone he knows were ever born. It has a beginning but no ending in sight.

It’s the first time he’s been at peace since the revelations about Hell came to light. Even so, the unease threatens to bubble up from the pit of his stomach. For even if there is no end in sight he can see, the ocean will vanish one day, whether it be Hell being strong enough to destroy this world, or a more natural end much further down the line.

So caught up in this, he doesn’t register Momo approaching until she’s by his side, and flinches when she speaks.

“There’s already so many stars out,” she marvels.

Thankfully, her is gaze on the dusk sky. Gone is her hat and hair ties, allowing the breeze lightly tussles her hair around her shoulders and back. She wears a shirt rolled up to the sleeves, and a bright orange summer dress beneath it. In one hand she holds her sandals, and shells in the other.

Indeed, stars glimmer down at them. Being this far away from the lights of the town, there’s more of them then he usually accustomed to in the World of the Living, and constellations he’s never seen before.

“I can see the pear.” Momo points to a cluster of stars on the right. “Remember that one?”

One of the many silly constellations they made up as children. “If that’s somehow it, it still doesn’t look like a pear.”

“Yeah it does! There’s the stem, and there’s the rest!” As she says this, she traces her finger over each star to map it out for him. “Its just upside down.”

He shakes his head. “You always had a strange imagination.”

She scoffs. “It’s called being creative.” After a moment, she tilts her head to one side. “I didn’t think it would show up in the World of the Living.”

“Our sky isn’t much different from there’s.”

“I guess not.”

The mood has lightened slightly, but the silence that follows is filled with the crashing of waves. They can remain like this, but like earlier today, it doesn’t feel natural. He turns to her, but she still has her eyes on the stars. He can leave her to be like this, oblivious to what is going on beneath the surface.

“Hinamori.” He has her attention now. He unknowingly takes in a deep breath as his stomach clenches, but he can’t stand not knowing anymore. “Why did you invite me to this?”

The question doesn’t catch her off guard like he expected it to. Instead, she tucks the shells she’d collected into one of her shirt pockets and glides her foot through the water. “It’s a shame we all couldn’t be here, and I know what happened is still on all of our minds, but it’s good to see those who did are relaxing a little. The last few months have been tough, and we all deserve to have a break from it. To step away for a little while.” She smiles wistfully. “That’s why I invited you to come. Even though it’s at a beach, and even though it’s only for a few days, I thought it would be good to spend time with you, Rangiku-san, Nanao-san, Abarai-kun, and the others away from what’s been bothering us.”

He thought hearing her say he wasn’t the only one thinking about the revelations about Hell would reassure him, but it only serves to annoy him. He’s no fool, he knows the others hadn’t forgotten about what happened, but why use their time here of all places? They can’t have moved on, this was too insurmountable to move on from.

“Aren’t we just running away?” He hadn’t meant to voice the question aloud, and it makes Momo's brow furrow.

His voice rises as he continues. “Shouldn’t we be using this time to plan for Hell’s next attack? We know nothing about their strategy. They’ve done nothing since Ukitake’s Konso Reisai, andKurotsuchi keeps investigating, but nothing ever comes up. We’re just here, doing nothing about it.” He throws his hands out to the sides. “We didn’t even know what we’ve been doing to our former captains this whole time!”

Momo shakes her head and braces her arm across her torso, her hand holding her opposite elbow. “We couldn’t have known.”

“But now we do! And what now? We’ll go to battle, that’s for certain, but what if this battle doesn’t end like the others?”

“That we’ll lose?”

“No, not even that. That we’ll be fighting Hell for decades. The first war against the Quincy lasted years, Hinamori. What if this battle is the same? What if we lose more captains, and we’ll have no choice but to perform Konso Reisai for all of them?”

“You…really think the conflict would last that long?”

“I don’t know, and that’s…” He let’s out an exasperated breath. He’s never like this, shouting and venting his thoughts, and that only frustrates him even more. “We need something concrete! We need direction, and we won’t get that unless we’re working on it back in the Soul Society. Hell must be doing this deliberately, it's a psychological tactic to weaken us."

She looks at him in confusion and worry, an expression that would normally cool his anger and makes him reassess what he'd said. But he's in too far now, he won't stop.

“You saw Sogyo no Kotowari.”

She frowns, likely wondering where this is going. “Only at a glance. Kurosaki-san saw it up close.”

“But his description fit what you saw, yes?”

She nods solemnly. “I thought I was seeing things, but when I got back to the Soul Society and found out what was happening with the Konso Reisai, it suddenly made sense.”

“Ukitake impaled that Espada, but we don’t know for what reason. We don’t know if he is on our side or not. If he isn’t, if everyone we have sent to Hell this whole time isn’t, we’re going to have to face them.”

The grip on her arm tightens. “I know.”

“I won't to become like Ukitake,” he says fiercely, bordering on a growl. “I won't become warped. If I have to fight him and the others, then so be it. But I won't to become like them. I don’t want to…”

“What makes you think you’ll die before the conflict is over?” she asks.

He doesn't answer, can't answer as his throat tightens.

Her hand drops back to her side as she leans forward. “You won’t die, Shiro-chan.”

“How can you know that?” he struggles to get out.

“Because you’re one of the strongest Shinigami I know, in skill, in your bond with your zanpakuto, and in fortitude.” Her eyes become glassy and her voice gets increasingly louder. “Someone like you doesn’t die so easily. I know you’ll keep fighting, no matter you are faced with!  You lived through so much, and survived wounds that would kill so many! You don’t give up, you’ve never given up, it’s a quality you embody above everything else! There’s no way you can die, don’t even think about it! And don't push everyone away!”

She pants for breath and bites her lip, trying to prevent tears. He’s at a loss for words. Had she too been bottling something up? Was it anxiety about Hell, or was it about him?

A wave hits the back of his shins. They both look down. When had the water gotten this high? Is the tide already coming in, or had they waded further into the sea? Wordless, he walks back to the shore, and after a moment, she follows. He halts once he’s back at the shoreline, but she takes a few steps away from it.

As her breathing quietens, Momo’s gaze searches for something in him. Her eyes are so wide, alarmed and still on the verge of tearing up. “I-I didn’t understand why you were becoming so distant, I thought getting away from the Soul Society would help, but now I think I know. Are you…?” She’s conflicted, her lips opening to continuing her question, only to close seconds later and becoming a taut, pressed line.

He’d wanted to tell her what was on his mind, but not like this. To his own ear, he’s ended up sounding both paranoid and like a child complaining about something not going his way. He ended up upsetting her. Toshiro sighs, suddenly more tired than before. “What is it?”

She still hesitates, her focus on the waves circling his ankles. Eventually, she raises her head and steps closer. “Are you scared?”

It hits him in the chest like a stone thrown into glass. For a second, his blood runs tight and cold in his limbs. His heart skips a beat, then clenches. He can feel hairline fractures running through him, threatening to break apart. Momo hadn’t hit the nail on the head, but she knows one facet of what is going on within him.

The impact she made must show, because her expression softens further. “It’s okay if you are, I think we all are. I think it’s why we’re all here. In this time of uncertainty, the only thing we can do right now is to be here with our friends. We can’t let the uncertainty of the future stop us from living in the present with those we care about.”

Or we could be planning. Somehow, the thought sounds strange, as if the sentiment behind it weren’t quite right anymore.

Momo closes the gap between them, their hands almost brushing. “If you really feel we shouldn’t be here, then why did you come?” It’s not an accusation, only a gentle question.

Because you wanted me to. She still isn’t aware of the hold she has over him, but how would she react if she knew? But her invite hadn’t been the only reason, nor had it just been Rangiku and Granny’s encouragement, or Shunsui appointing him as one of the supervisors.

We can’t let the uncertainty of the future stop us from living in the present with those we care about.

Maybe if the mood were different, he would tease her for picking up on his philosophy. In her own way, she had describe what would be his usual way of thinking. He slides his gaze to the horizon, watching the waves form, build, then curl in and crash in on themselves. It reminds him the fireworks, how they rise and flare into existence, only to scatter and fade away after they’ve exploded in the sky.

What happened to him? Why is he like this?

No, he already knows why. He swallows thickly and closes his eyes, but it does nothing to help. If he looks at the source of all of this now, the fractures might get bigger, but if he doesn't, they'll only run deeper.

And so, he opens his eyes to the stars.

“Before Hell, Kurotsuchi was working on a cure for the de-zombification process for Matsumoto and I,” he begins, his voice rougher. “That included returning the years of our life taken by the procedure, or at least, extending out lifespans to something greater than what they currently are. I expected slow progress, but when Hell revealed itself to us, of course work into a cure had ceased all together. It’s the right thing to do. We lay our lives down for the Soul Society.” His gaze fixes on her. “For our friends.”

Momo lets out a long, silent breath, her shoulders falling lower. She waits, always patient and willing to listen to him, but there's an urgency beneath it.

With some effort, he continues. “Knowing what will happen once those who obtained bankai die, knowing we can become so warped, that we can fight against our former officers, our friends. If I die before the conflict ends, that's what I'll become. I don't want that. I never want to hurt anyone on our side." I never want to hurt you again. "I didn't want..." I didn't want the peace to end."I don't..." I don't want to die.

Something drops into the sand behind them. Then, her arms around him, pulling him into side ways hug. His widened eyes stare straight ahead, unblinking and unfocused. The last time they had hugged was when the war against the Quincy had ended. Why is it they only hug when they're sad? But the feel of her arms around his shoulders, to know she's here with him, it makes him shudder, verging of a sob. He holds it back, believing it would do neither of them any good, but he turns in her arms and wraps his own around her.

“Without knowing what’s ahead, I can’t just relax like everyone else,” he admits.

“I know,” she whispers, voice tight. "With all of that on your mind, how could anyone?"

"And knowing I don't have much longer to live…"

A minute passes, and there's only the waves, which now coming up to their mid shines. The tide is definitely coming in, it wont be long before it gets higher.

Toshiro thinks to pull away, but Momo's arms tighten around him. "There's still time for Captain Kurotsuchi to find a cure for you and Rangiku-san, I know he won't give up on it. We don't know what we're up against, but that's nothing new for us, isn't it?" and he feels her smile against his temple. “In times of uncertainty and without answers, we only have each other, " she says "You look out for others, and become stronger for others. It’s why one of the reasons you’re worried about the future, right? It’s not just about fearing an early death, isn’t it? You care about everyone, you want to know what you can do to protect them for what’s to come. You want to live with everyone, right?”

His heart quivers. He’d seen everyone’s confusion and dourness for more than a month, and it did nothing to alleviate the emotions that slowly took hold of him. The peace had softened him, had made him so accustomed to seeing everyone in higher spirits. He missed it, longed for it after what they had learned about Hell. He especially missed seeing Momo that way, after everything she went through, by Aizen's hand and unintentionally his own.

He recalls how fragile the flowers in her hat looked, how small her hands seemed. He hadn't had to think about protecting anyone in years, hadn't had to be vigilant or on guard at all times, but they'd slowly been bubbling back to the surface in the recent months. When Hell comes, those feelings will come back in full force. He would never let anything harm her, not when he now has the powers to protect her.

As the seconds pass, a strange grief takes hold. He mourns for an uncertain future, for a future that will likely not be his. She has been a part of his life for so many years, and there was a time he was certain she would still be there with him in the future, but now, even if he makes it out of this alive, who's to say of she or Rangiku will be there? It's always been a possibility, ever since any of them became Shinigami, but with Hell now posing as a threat - one that has broken the peace they'd enjoyed for over ten years - it only exacerbates the chances of it happening. He mourns for the peace that is broken, because at some point without realising, he had seen that as their future. They would all go on happily, performing their duties with only the occasional hitch, but nothing that would threaten their everyday lives, the very existence of all the worlds.

The peace was too good to last; but it had happened, and he had enjoyed it with everyone else. It's the way of all the worlds; the good can only last for so long, but it never completely vanishes. It finds it's way back in smaller ways.

With a new wave smacking particularly hard into the backs his legs, he pulls away. He takes her hand, ignoring the surprised look she gives him, and leads her out of the water. “Come on, we should head back, the tide is starting to come in.”

Along the way, she stoops down and picks up the sandals she’s thrown aside to hug him. They walk up the beach and up the mounds and stairs in silence.

What they'd talked about isn't really an answer or a solution to his worries. He’ll feel this unease about the future for as long as Hell is a threat. But the waves, they ebb and flow. The stars burn until there’s nothing left; they shine brightly until they fade away. The worlds go on, with or without beings who have left them. It's both a disconcerting and calming thought.

As they near the road a few minutes later, Momo she gives his hand a squeeze. "Thank you, Hitsugaya-kun."

"Huh?"

"For telling me everything. I know it couldn't have been easy for you." Then, ruefully, "I'm sorry that this all happened at a beach."

Toshiro could almost laugh, but he manages to withhold it. "It was a majority vote for the location, there was no changing that."

He doesn't looks back at her until they stop on the side of the road. The streetlight next to them casts half of her face in white-yellow light, while the sign of a nearby restaurant casts the other in pink and red.

"You've always been like this. Willing to listen to others, to let them speak their minds." He gives her a small smile. "I should be thanking you."

She gives a embarrassed shrug. "I'm not always like that."

He could argue with her until they're both deaf about her modesty, but he refrains. "Maybe you're right. It's good to...be away for a while, even if it's somewhere like here."

"Even if you can't stop thinking about what happened? Or what's to come?"

It's not her intention, but it almost feels like a test from the universe, to see if he has taken what she'd said to heart. He steps closer, gaze intent. "It's like you said, there was no way we could stop completely thinking about what happened. I can't let these thoughts go, I can't be like everyone else . I won't stop thinking about what happened, not until we can predict Hell's next moves." He bows his head. "I'm sorry for how I've been on this trip."

She shakes her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I'm sorry for trying to force you to relax. I should've just come out and said I was concerned."

"With how I was, I can understand why you went about things the way you did. Besides, the ice cream wasn't bad. Dinner was good too, and the beach wasn't...terrible."

That gets a huff of a chuckle out of her.

"Still, I should've been upfront before we came."

She offers a sympathetic smile. "In the end, you were. We only have a day left, but please spend it however you want to." After he nods, she drops her sandals to the ground. "I should put these on before we go back to the others."

She lets go his hand to slide and clip her sandals back on.

His hand hovers in the air, and he knows he should put it back to his side. He'd done what he'd had to to lead them away from the sea. He's also never been one for physical contact beyond what was necessary in battle. But he didn't want to let go just yet.

With both of her shoes on, Momo straightens. "Do think they are at the bar by now?"

"Chances are."

He looks out to the road, lit by streetlights and lined with restaurants, bars, and closed shops. The weight within him is still there, but lighter. For the first time since he arrived, he thinks of somewhere he wants to go.

"I think I saw a takoyaki stall down there," he says, jerking his chin to the right. "Want to go eat before we join everyone else?"

Momo raises both eyebrows, but before he can ask why she reacted this way, she beams and takes his hand again. "Yeah, let's go."

[cherichli]

A Draft of a HXH fanfic I wanted to accomplish when I was at my lowest

,,, THE stench of isopropyl mixed with all kinds of medicine sprouted through the air. An abnormal combination of life and death; Of sickness and recovering. Neophytes like yourself scamper to and fro, following the instructors orders as newly-fledged nurses. Hurrying their pens akin to the construction of a symphony, constituted one by one to file the piece of artistic value; a piece deemed important for years to uphold. From the composer’s heartache, ready to define themselves– to the world– as an archetypal musician, the change of a generation’s harmony.

Or in this case… to file the pieces of notable knowledge for future usage. For the future of lives, saved by your hands. A fruitful thought. One that makes you smile despite the stoicness you present. You and the assiduous bunch listened attentively, adorned with dark bags under their eye lids, foretold the signs of diligence throughout the four-years of training. To the passage of your licensure exam.

As a fledged nurse, you were able to obtain employment– along with some classmates– to practice professionally in a healthcare setting. (Name) carried their notes, a sense of solitude against the stressful environment. Touring the place, the instructor went into details about each work room, storage, and nurses that can help neophytes when necessary.

“No blood thinners, right?” A snippet of life. “Nope. He’s fine– “ A patient no more than 40, lays on the rustled sheets of white. A cannula for the nose, and an IV bag to maintain blood pressure.

Phew, I remembered.

“Now everyone–” Gaining your attention, you shift your gaze upfront. The instructor, a man with a bright smile. A comforting warmth. “Never give up, no matter the hardships you face.” his voice laced with a tinge of longing… an emotion you can’t decipher.

Desperation perhaps?

"Good luck." He hands out papers, filled with schedules and tips. As you come forward, his expression—in a breezing second — seemed pitiful. Why?

Through silence, (Name) realized his pity look. You were gonna regret this, huh?

"... Should've gone for pharmacist..." You murmur, a vow to the unknown.

I never got to finish it because of my self-confidence and just kept it in my unpublished section for 2-3 ish years.

I don't know how the fuck I got to write like I was possessed by a shakesperean puppet writing a self-insert between me and an overly-white, hot, ahh vampire.

But I ain't complaining

[m-jelly]

I wouldn't change my life for anything in the world.

@kenkopanda-art

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: Modern AU, time skips, adoption, fluff, romance, Levi being a dad, pregnancy, money troubles at first, becoming a CEO, cute.

Concept: As Levi is finishing university at 22, he gets a call about his 12-year-old cousin, Mikasa, losing both her parents and might be moved into the fostering system. Levi doesn't have much money due to being in uni, but he doesn't want Mikasa to be separated from her friends and she's family. Levi looks after her and raises her until she's old enough to go to university. During the years of financial struggle, Levi eventually works for Erwin and becomes CEO of the business. When she's ready to go, Levi meets you and starts happily dating you but is nervous about letting you know about Mikasa. You click with Mikasa and love her to pieces. You help her with lady and romance issues during uni. She becomes a wonderful big sister to yours and Levi's baby as well.

Note: This was a wonderful idea that was born from @ladycheesington amazing mind. We chatted and developed a few points together. I hope she loves what I've done with the idea <3 This post will contain sections of important parts that happen in both Levi's and Mikasa's lives.

In the beginning.

Levi carried Mikasa's bags into his very small apartment. He put the bags down in his room. "I uh, I'm sorry it's so small. You can have my room and I'll sleep on the sofa."

Mikasa looked around the small living room before walking into the bedroom. "Mm."

"I made the bed and it's all clean. I don't have a girlfriend, so it'll just be me and you." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry it's not as nice as your parent's place. We'll get a better place, I promise. It will take a few years, but I'll do my best."

He watched Mikasa walk around the room. She opened the balcony door and walked out to see a busy street. She wiggled the railing a bit and turned to look at Levi. She walked back in and sat on the bed and bounced a bit.

Levi gulped hard as he felt nervous. "I-If it's not okay, I can try and get you something better. You'll have to give me a few months to save up the money."

Levi put her suitcase on the bed, then moved the rest of her bags into the room and saw she'd started unpacking her things. He felt a little relieved that she was settling in.

He grabbed a present and handed it over to her. "It's a welcome gift."

Mikasa unwrapped it and opened the box to see a cheap mobile phone inside. She stared at it and turned it on. She stared at the background picture set as her parents.

Levi ruffled his hair as his heart throbbed in his chest, he had no clue if he was doing the right thing. "I know it's not the latest thing, but I made sure to get you a good tariff. I set your phone up for you as well. I hope you don't mind."

Mikasa welled up as she looked at the phone. She rubbed her tears away and sniffed a little.

Levi went white. "Sh...I mean...I'm sorry."

Mikasa got up and hugged Levi. "Thank you."

Levi hugged her back. "I know this isn't the best and I don't have much money, but I'll do everything I can to get you what you need. There's a great school here and Armin goes to it. You'll be with one od your friends at school and out of school."

"Thank you."

He gulped. "Do you want pizza?"

"Sure."

He led her to the living room and ordered the pizza over the house phone. He sat with her and watched some TV as they ate together. The first night was terrible. He heard Mikasa crying. He comforted her because he understood her pain. The crying got less over the days, but then she had nightmares about her parents being killed. He stayed with her and barely slept.

Levi was trying to run a business with his uni friend Erwin, but it was only starting off and costing them both a lot. Levi had to get two other jobs to pay his way and to support Mikasa. He bought her all she needed for school and sacrificed things for himself. Mikasa ate well and slept the right amount of hours, but Levi barely ate a thing and only slept three hours each day.

Levi came home exhausted to see his apartment was spotless and Mikasa was gripping the mop. "Mikasa?"

She looked around and blushed. "I thought I would clean. You've been working so much and you give me a lot. I wanted to do something for you." She put the mop away and hurried to the kitchen. "I umm cooked dinner. You haven't been eating much and it worries me. You'll all I have left."

Levi smiled at Mikasa and walked over to her. He hugged her before wiping her tears away. "Thank you. I'll take care of myself more, okay?"

"Promise."

He hummed a laugh. "I promise."

She grabbed the dinner and put it on the coffee table because there was no room for a dining table. "I followed the notebook recipe you have."

Levi smiled. "That's my mother's." He made two cups of tea and sat with her on the floor. "Thank you for the meal."

She smiled with pride. "Enjoy!"

Being 16

Mikasa walked through the city on her way home and kept thinking about how hard Levi was working. She knew he was making more money now, but it wasn't enough to move out of the apartment. She knew very well he was sacrificing things for himself so she could have things. She had a newer phone and a laptop, but it meant Levi couldn't get a car. The apartment had been updated with nicer things for Mikasa, but Levi had to buy a lot of the things secondhand for himself.

She stopped when she saw a sign asking for a part-timer. She slipped into the bakery and talked to them. She proved she was sixteen and talked about her school hours and they nicely worked it around her school. She worked there as often as she could and got a bit of money for her work.

Mikasa wasn't sure what to do with her money. She knew it wasn't much, but knew it could help a little. She didn't think she could help with the bills, but there was a chance she could possibly buy some food. She changed her mind about getting food because if she did, Levi would know she was working and would be upset.

Levi wanted Mikasa to focus on school and he would deal with money and troubles like that. So, she wanted to do something so he knew how much she appreciated him taking her in, giving her everything she needed and more. She knew Levi was a saint and she saw him as a hero.

She came across something she knew would show her appreciation.

A teacup.

She saved up all her money and walked into the shop with pride. She handed the money over that she worked really hard to earn. She paid a bit extra for it to be wrapped up nicely. She was so nervous about giving it to Levi that she kept it for a few days hidden in her room.

Until Levi found it while cleaing.

Levi frowned as he swept under the bed. He frowned at the wrapped-up box and pulled it out. "Mikasa?" He stood up. "Mikasa!"

Mikasa stopped cleaning the living room and joined Levi. "Yes?"

He showed her the box. "You got something to tell me?"

She blushed. "It um...it's not what you think."

He walked closer. "You are far too young for this kind of thing."

She frowned a little. "Thing? What thing?"

Levi blushed a little. "Oh...nothing."

She smiled and pointed. "It's for you."

He sat down on her bed and carefully pulled the wrapping off. He opened the box to reveal a teacup inside. He picked it up and fought tears. "Where did you get the money for this?"

She walked over. "I've been working in a bakery part-time. Don't worry, I haven't let it change the way I've been studying. My grades haven't changed at all. I like it there and I want to help with getting food. I was worried you'd tell me to quit because of that." She hugged herself. "I want to show you that I appreciate you. I know we don't have much money. I know you work two jobs and it used to be three. I know you restrict things for yourself and give me a lot. I wanted to give back."

Levi gripped the cup as his vision went foggy. He sniffed and wiped his tears away. He cleared his throat and smiled at Mikasa. "Thank you."

"Do I have to quit my job?"

He put his arm around his cousin and tugged her close. "No, no you can keep it. You really want to help out with the food shopping?"

"Please."

He sighed. "Alright, you can help out a little."

Business is booming

Levi had a smile on his face as he drove his new car to Mikasa's school. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he turned up to pick her up. She was turning 17 soon and things were looking up for the Ackermans.

Levi had managed to get a big partner to sign a deal with Erwin's company. Once that happened, more people signed up and it was an avalanche of business coming in. Levi and Erwin were now earning a lot more, employing more people and were becoming well off people. Levi had kept his eye on it over the past months and as things got better, he was able to get a new car and an apartment.

He had spent the whole day moving out of the old single apartment to a new one with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining room too. He knew Mikasa was going to love having her own space and being happy. He knew it'd be hard at first to accept there was money now, but now he could send her off to university with no worries.

He pulled up to her school and stood outside the car and waited. He narrowed his eyes at Eren hanging around Mikasa as they left school. He could see the little blush on Mikasa's cheeks as she laughed at Eren. "Tch, Eren. Damn mutt."

Armin spotted Levi and gasped. "Mr Ackerman? Is that car yours?"

Levi nodded. "Yeah."

Mikasa stopped walking and stared at the car and took in Levi's suit. "Levi? What's happening?"

He waited for her to walk over. "You know that deal I mention to you? The big one?"

She gasped as the realisation hit her. "You did it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, a few months ago. I didn't tell you because I wanted to make sure that it was going to go well. It has. We are representing so many people and helping out a lot of companies. Soon, almost everyone in this city will be reaching out to us to design their brands and create business models for them." He blushed. "Sorry, I'm boring you."

She shook her head. "No, no you're not. I saw your work and I knew you'd do it. So, what does this mean?"

He held her upper arms. "It means we don't have money troubles anymore. We have a car."

She looked it over. "Second hand?"

"New."

She smiled. "Really?"

He nodded. "I also have something else to show you." He opened the car door. "Hop in."

She climbed into the car and waved to her friends. "Where are we going?"

He glanced over at her. "It's a surprise."

She looked out the window and watched the city go by and noticed the nice part. "Levi?"

He pulled into a parking spot under the building and led her to the lift. He pressed a button and sighed. "Trust me."

She hummed. "Okay..."

He stepped out of the lift and waved her closer. "Come on."

She walked over to him and stopped at a door. "Levi?"

He unlocked the door and opened it. "Come on in."

She moved into the room and saw a wonderful kitchen, a living room and a dining area. "It's really nice."

He hurried ahead. "This way!" He ran to a door and opened it. "In here."

She entered the bedroom and saw a double bed and lots of places to put clothes. "Wow." Her eyes widened when she saw her things in the room. "Wait..."

Levi opened a door in the room. "There's a bathroom too."

She looked inside and saw more of her things. "Wait, wait, wait...Levi?"

He waved her closer. "Come with me."

She hurried after him. "Levi, I'm confused."

He pushed some presents towards her. "Open the small one first."

She carefully opened the wrapping, something she learned from Levi. She frowned at a little box before opening it to see a key was inside. "A key?"

Levi nodded. "Yeah, to our new apartment."

She looked up at Levi as her eyes widened. "Wait...wait...this is our place?"

"It's all ours."

She welled up. "It's ours!"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you have a bedroom?"

Levi felt his heart swell. He couldn't believe she cared more about Levi than herself. "I do. I have my own bathroom too. I'm over there through that door."

She smiled. "You have your own bedroom! No more sofa! I'm so happy!" She ran over to Levi's room and looked it over. "You deserve this, Levi. No more depriving yourself, please."

He sighed. "But you deserve a lot more."

"Levi."

He ruffled his hair and let out a long sigh. "Alright, no more depriving myself of things." He cleared his throat. "There's an issue with your job though, you're too far from the bakery but I heard there's a nice tea, herb and spice shop nearby that will hire you. The doorman said the lady who runs it is nice."

Mikasa smiled. "You're letting me work still?"

"Yeah, you like it, so go for it." He pointed to the door. "I'll get you the application papers, okay? You stay here and enjoy yourself." He pointed at a present. "Open that one."

Mikasa opened it as Levi walked away. "A new phone!?"

"Keep opening the gifts!"

He rode the lift down and walked down the road to a cute shop that looked so warm and welcoming. He slipped inside and saw everything was varnished food, there were plants everywhere, the place smelt incredible. He felt at home. He looked around and turned when her heard a sweet voice.

"Hi! Welcome!"

Levi turned around and felt his cheeks burn and his heart flutter in his chest when he locked eyes with you. He couldn't get over your cute dungarees, sweet boots and charming smile. He felt the world around him pause as you walked over.

You giggled. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yes, s-sorry umm...hi."

You hummed a laugh. "Hi. Can I help you?"

He cleared his throat. "Le-Levi. I'm Levi."

You shook his hand and said your name. "Lovely to meet you." You blushed and felt your heart skip a beat. "You're new here."

He nodded. "Recently moved here. I-I um..."

You smiled. "Things looking up? I know that look. I had nothing for a while too and nothing went my way." You let out a long sigh. "Took so long for this place to take off." You hummed in thought. You jumped when you realised you'd taken over the conversation. "I'm so sorry! I'm taking over the conversation."

He walked closer. "Don't be sorry, keep talking."

"Oh, I was told I talk to much..."

He shook his head. "I like listening. So, you worked hard for this place?"

You nodded. "Yeah! I umm struggled a lot in life and I ah never got much in life. I have fantastic parents, but I always had bad luck. I worked my ass off and things never went my way."

Levi felt like he'd found his soulmate. "Me too! I started a business with my friend and it was like making a fucking wall out of chocolate in the hot summer sun."

You laughed. "That's so true!"

He laughed a little before blushing. "I ah...so..."

You lightly touched under Levi's eyes making him close them. He hummed and relaxed into your touch. He opened them again and marvelled at the colour that was your eyes. He looked at every speckle in them and shine. He scanned your face and felt himself falling for you.

You blushed a little as you enjoyed Levi's handsome features. "Do...do you get much sleep?"

"No."

You walked over to your tea collection and grabbed a few. "As a welcome to the area, I have some tea for you."

He walked over to the counter. "How much?"

You handed two small tins over. "On the house." You smiled. "This one will help you sleep and this one lets you relax."

He smiled as he looked at the cute tins. "Thank you. Oh, I was told you're looking for help. My cousin is 17 and she wants to help out around here. Do you have an application?"

You leaned on the counter. "Send her here whenever."

"What about an application?"

You hummed a laugh. "She's a young lady that wants to work. You know the struggles of life and I can imagine she does. I'm all for helping out a young lady."

He nodded and held back a smile. "Great." He stumbled a little near the door. "Great..."

You nibbled your lip. "So, would you like to go out for a drink or lunch sometime?" You blushed and traced patterns on the counter. "I mean, you're new around here and I'm sure you would like a friend."

He ran over to the counter and grabbed a paper and yanked his pen out of his pocket. "I would love to. Here is my number." He cleared his throat as he stared at you. "Umm..." He grabbed his things and ran. "Bye!"

You giggled as he fell out of your shop and ran off. "So cute."

Introductions

Levi cleared his throat as he felt nervous as you both had lunch together. He'd been dating you for almost two months now and he wanted to tell you he loved you. He had told you about Mikasa being his cousin, but you didn't know he was acting like a father to her and she was living with him. Levi always went over to yours.

He reached over and held your hand. "I love you."

You squeezed Levi's hand as you blushed. "I love you too."

He lifted your hand up and kissed it. "I love you so much."

You hummed a laugh. "Everything okay?"

He shifted in his seat a little. "So, umm...about Mikasa..."

You locked eyes with Levi. "Yeah?"

"She umm...she's more than a cousin." He saw you pull back. "N-not like that! Shit, I worded that badly." He huffed. "Her parents died when she was 12 and uh I got the call when I was finishing uni. I took her in and raised her as my own. So, when I say she's more than a cousin, I mean she's like a daughter to me."

You welled up. "She lives with you?"

Levi panicked. "Ah, don't cry! I'm sorry I lied!"

You sat next to him and hugged him tightly. "You're incredible! You took her in and looked after her. It must have been so hard for her and you. Poor Mikasa." You smiled at Levi. "Did you think this would upset me?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well I kind of have a 17 year old kid who lives with me."

You kissed Levi making him blush. "I think it's wonderful. I adore Mikasa and we get in so well when she works with me." You gasped. "Are you going to officially introduce us?"

He blushed bright red. "Yes."

"So, I'm meeting your family?"

He pouted a little. "Yes."

You giggled and hugged his arm. "This is amazing." You nuzzled the crook of his neck. "Sorry, I'm just blushing so hard right now. I'm so happy."

He smiled. "Me too. I want you to be part of my family so badly." He got up and pulled you to your feet. "Come on. We'll go meet her."

You gasped and went white. "Wait! I need to get changed and get her a gift!" You shot up to your feet. "I need to make her dinner...I have so much to plan..."

Levi blushed at you being cute. He hummed a laugh. "You don't need to."

You cupped his face. "I must! I want her to like me."

"She already likes you."

You gathered your things. "But that's as a boss!"

Levi grabbed you and pulled you close. "Stop, breathe, okay? We'll go shopping together and you can cook at my place. You can see where I live and meet Mikasa when she comes home from school."

You nibbled your lip. "Okay...okay...I can do this..."

Levi followed you to the nearest food shop. "Honey, you're okay." He held your hand. "Everything is okay."

You hummed. "I gotta cook her something good. What does she like? Does she like spicy or does she hate that kind of thing? Does she eat meat or not? I love ramen and I could make some for her, but I need to know if she likes meat!"

He cupped your face. "Ramen is perfect and she likes meat."

"Okay!" You grabbed a trolly. "Let's go!"

Levi took it from you. "I'm buying and I'll push this."

Levi watched fondly as you ran around the shop grabbing things for ramen, nice drinks and a dessert. He drove you to his place and carried all the bags. He smiled as you busied yourself in his kitchen. He thought you fitted into his life just perfectly. He knew it was just two months in, but he wanted you for life.

You offered Levi a spoonful of the broth for the ramen. "Check please."

He sipped and hummed. "It's delicious."

You smiled. "Will she like it?"

"Yes."

"Great." You checked everything over and made sure the cake was cool. You started decorating and putting it together so it was a perfect strawberry and cream cake. "I think that's it."

Levi put his arm around you and kissed the side of your head. "She'll love it and you." He growled at you and started nipping and kissing your neck.

Mikasa walked in as she texted Eren on her phone. She noticed a pair of shoes that weren't hers. She looked up to see you in an apron with Levi's arm around you and him nibbling your neck. "Cute."

Levi pulled away. "Mikasa!"

You gasped and hurried over with a boba drink you made. You bowed to her. "Welcome home!" You offered her the drink. "I-I made this for you."

She took it and hummed. "Thanks. So, you two finally admitting your dating to me?"

Levi walked over. "I never told her you're like a daughter to me and you live with me. So, umm...I wanted her to meet you officially like a dad would introduce his kid to his girlfriend."

She smiled. "Cool. You're perfect for each other." She looked over the food. "Did you make all this?"

You nodded. "Yeah because I want you to like me and I thought it'd be a nice hello meal."

She hummed a laugh. "I like you though. Can I help you set up the dining table."

You welled up. "Please."

She grabbed a few things and walked with you. "So, how long have you two been dating? Has it been since we moved here?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

"That's really cool." She frowned. "Does that mean I have to sign something at work to say we're going to be related or something?"

You blushed. "Related?"

She sat down and giggled. "Well, he's not dated anyone since I came into his life. So, he's very serious about you."

"Really?"

Levi carried the food over as he blushed. "She's right."

"Wow...umm...that makes me so happy." You gasped and put together everyone's ramen. "Here you go. Enjoy everyone."

Mikasa smiled. "Thank you for the meal."

You ate together and joked around as if you were one big happy family. You slipped into their lives easily. You felt like you belonged. Mikasa was gushing to you about a lot and was treating you like her mother. Levi had his arm around you when you all sat back and just had drinks.

Mikasa helped Levi clean before turning to you. "Do you wanna play some video games with me?"

You gasped. "Please!"

Levi frowned. "What about me?"

Mikasa snorted a laugh. "You can drink your tea and read your books. Old man."

"I'm not old!"

You giggled. "Mikasa? I'm only a bit younger than Levi, by like two years."

She stared at you. "Yeah, but he's old in the mind." She hugged your arm. "We're going to my room...bye."

You and Mikasa

You and Levi had been together for over a year and Mikasa was in university. You and she were in contact a lot and you helped her a lot with her girl troubles. She was secretly dating Eren and both were deeply in love, but she knew Levi would kill Eren if he knew. So, you were her everything.

You were sitting on the sofa cuddling Levi as you looked at holiday locations for you, him and Mikasa. "I think this might be nice."

Levi kissed the top of your head. "Yeah. We'll get our own room and Mikasa can have her own."

Mikasa walked into the living room on her summer break. "Hey, mum? Can I borrow you?" She stared at you and Levi as you both stared at her in shock. "What?"

"You called her mum."

You welled up. "You see me as mum?"

Mikasa blushed hard. "Maybe...can I borrow you?"

You jumped up and hurried over. "Yes! Of course."

She cleared her throat. "We need to go out."

You nodded. "Sure. I'll grab my purse. Levi? Do you want anything?"

Levi pouted. "No...just hurry home."

"We will." You walked with Mikasa and took her to her favourite cafe. You paid for drinks and sat with her. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

She nibbled her lip. "It's about Eren."

"Okay."

She let out a long sigh. "We want to start...you know?" She shrugged a little. "And well...Levi wants me to never ever sleep with a guy. You've helped me out so much already. You're a woman and I know you and Levi have a lot of...you know."

You blushed. "You haven't heard us, have you?"

She laughed. "No, no, it's just Levi has a spring in his step and I've seen the lovebites. Your skin is glowing too."

"Great, cause I would be mortified if you'd heard us."

"Never heard you."

You relaxed. "Good. So, you want help about starting."

She nodded. "Yes...does it hurt?"

You hummed a bit. "Well, I mean...a bit? But! It'll be okay. It's all about preparation, okay?"

You talked to Mikasa and made her feel relaxed about it all. You told her how it would be and to make sure they both talked. You took her to the shop and showed her different things to help them both. You bought some for her and then went to Eren's place.

Eren spent the whole time blushing as you talked. He kept looking at your legs and chest. Mikasa and Eren were both 18, so they were young and in both their eyes you were an adult. So, you had the body of an older woman. You clapped your hands to stop both from staring at you. You talked a bit longer and both seemed very comfortable by the end.

You sighed. "Great! I'm so glad we're good, just Levi doesn't know about you two being active." You stood up. "Come with me."

Eren panicked. "I can't face Levi."

You slapped your hands on his cheeks and looked him in the eyes. "If you can't face Levi, then you don't deserve Miki." You let him go. "Miki is my world and she means a lot to me and Levi. You need to get on with him. If you both keep lying to him about this, it'll hurt him. The longer you take, the more hurt he'll be. We won't tell him about you two sleeping together, but we need to tell him about you two being a couple."

Mikasa hugged herself. "But he doesn't like Eren."

"He doesn't like anyone who gets close to his cousin who he's been treating as his daughter."

"He...he sees me as his daughter?"

You nodded. "Of course. You're his kid to him. He wants to protect you. He's a man, Mikasa, he's a man. So, he knows what men can be like."

She hugged herself and smiled. "I understand...I want to tell him." She turned to Eren. "We're telling him together and if you refuse, we're over. Levi is...Levi is my dad."

Eren smiled. "I want him to like me because I love you. I'm coming, I just hope he doesn't murder me."

You led them to the apartment. "I'll tame him, don't you worry!" You slipped into the room to see Levi still on the sofa looking at holidays. "Levi!"

Levi perked up and called your name. "Welcome back." He saw Eren and instantly looked angry. "Tch, what's he doing here?"

You hurried over and kissed Levi. "I love you."

He smiled. "Love you too, but why is Eren here?"

Mikasa held Eren's hand and pulled him over to you and Levi. "Mum? Dad?"

Levi welled up. "Dad?"

She smiled at Eren. "This is my boyfriend Eren. We love each other, he's respectful and if he isn't I will tell you so you can murder him."

Levi walked up to Eren. "Tch, you love her?"

Eren nodded. "Y-Yes."

"You in university?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Grades?"

Mikasa hugged Eren's arm. "He's getting great grades. He's not the top, but close. He gets in the 80s out of 100."

Levi watched the cold sweat roll down the side of Eren's face, then him take a bit nervous gulp. "That so?"

Eren shivered. "Sir, I really love her and I'm working hard to get great grades. I w-want to have a g-good future with her. She deserves the world. I want to give that to her. Oh, but if Mikasa wants to earn the money and make me stay at home, then I will! I will do anything for her."

You rubbed Levi's back. "Sweetheart?" You kissed his cheek and whispered to him. "Miki adores Eren and Eren has been nothing but respectful to her and me."

Levi frowned. "You've known about them?"

You pulled him to the bedroom. "Wait there you two." You closed the door. "Levi, she didn't tell you for a long time because she values your opinion. She thinks you're her dad, okay? She knows how much you've done for her, so having your respect and approval means the world to her. She didn't tell you because she knows you don't like any guy that gets close to her. Plus, Eren was a little shit as a kid, but he's better now. They love each other and you have to admit, my love, you can be really scary sometimes."

He sat down on the bed. "You're right."

You walked up to him and hugged his head into your boobs. "You've done so much for her and she loves you for that, but it's time to let her make her own choices now. You can't protect her forever, okay? She's an adult now. All we can do is be there for her."

He sighed. "You're right." He looked up at you and smiled softly. "What would I do without you?"

You knelt in front of him. "I love you. I deeply love you." You held his hands. "I know this is hard and Eren was a shithead, but he has changed, he means well now and he's trying so hard." You leaned up and kissed him. "Give him a chance, for her."

He sighed. "Okay, okay." He smiled softly. "For her." He walked with you out of the bedroom. "Eren? Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Eren blushed. "I would, sir, thank you."

You and Levi

You sat across Levi's back as you placed one hand on his cheek as you kissed his other. You smiled against his cheek as he hummed in happiness. "I love you."

Levi massaged the inside of your thigh. "I love you too."

You followed Levi's gaze to see he was glaring at Eren and Mikasa. You and Mikasa had convinced Levi to invite Eren on holiday, but Levi had become pissed off when he saw Eren touching Mikasa and kissing her.

You nuzzled the crook of his neck. "Stop glaring at Eren and pay attention to me."

Levi pulled his gaze from Eren and looked at you. "Hi." He smiled. "Hi, beautiful."

You kissed him. "That's better." You gasped. "We have our date tonight."

He hummed. "I'm not happy leaving them two alone."

"Levi, they have their own room."

"I know, but they have a whole night together and dinner."

You pulled back from Levi. "I know she's like a daughter to you, but she's an adult."

"Tch, I just don't want her being touched."

You pouted a little. "I get it, darling, but you're leaving me with no choice. If you're that worried about her and Eren, then you can stay with them tonight and I will go to dinner alone."

He watched you get up and pull on your beach dress. "Wait."

You stopped and looked down at him on the sunbed. "Yes?"

"I want dinner with you."

You smiled. "Great!"

He stood up. "I'll get Eren and Mikasa so come too."

You let out a long sigh. "You know what? Forget it."

Levi chased after you. "Honey! Wait! What's wrong?"

You turned to him. "Mikasa is my world too and I know you've had her longer and you two have been through a lot together, but you can't keep babying her. If you keep this up, she'll think you don't trust her and you'll push her away." You huffed. "I love you so much and she loves you, but you have to drop this. Trust her. I'll go to our booking and if you turn up, wonderful, if you decide to stay with her and watch over here then that's okay too."

Levi hummed in thought. He walked over to Mikasa and Eren. "Oi? I need a word with you both. Look, I've been on your asses for a month since I've known about you being a couple." He gulped hard. "I have been suffocating you, Mikasa and neglecting my own relationship in the process. You're not a baby anymore, you're an adult."

Mikasa hugged Levi. "Dad, mum needs you." She pulled back. "I know this is scary that I've grown up, but I'm okay, I'm safe. You don't need to do everything for me anymore. I'm okay. Focus on your girlfriend and for god's sake, ask her to marry you!"

Levi blushed. "Yeah, you're right. Okay...okay...you two? Go on a date and enjoy your night." He clenched his jaw and pointed at Eren. "Wear a condom and if you don't, I'll cut your fucking dick off and make you eat it. Got it!?"

Eren went white and nodded. "Y-Yes, sir."

Levi let out a long sigh. "Right...right...okay...enjoy your night and I love you, Mikasa."

She giggled and waved. "Love you too."

Levi ran to his room to see you'd already left. He changed into a nice white smart shirt, tight trousers and smart shoes. He grabbed the ring box and ran to the restaurant to see you sitting on the balcony looking out at the sea with a cocktail in hand.

He stood by the table and said your name. "Hi."

You looked up at Levi and smiled. "Hey. So um...I'm sorry about how I acted and spoke. I had no right and she's a daughter to you and I've slipped into your life, but she's been with you since she was 12." You welled up and rubbed your tears away. "I'm so sorry. I have no right to be here with you."

Levi yanked his chair over to next to you and sat. "Hey, hey, hey." He wiped your tears away. "Don't be sorry, okay? You were right. Mikasa backed you up as well. I need to accept she's an adult now and my time raising her is over, but I can be there for her when she needs me. I have another family that needs more of my attention." He smiled at you. "You and me. I love you with all my heart and soul." He pulled out the ring box and opened it. "You're my everything. Marry me."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, yes Levi."

He slipped the ring on your hand before he kissed you. "You've made me so happy." He smiled and laughed a little. "We should move house and let Mikasa have her own place."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I don't think she wants me watching over her all the time." He cleared his throat. "Plus, I umm...I want to have a family with you."

You smiled. "Me too."

Big sister

You held your baby girl, Kuchel, in your arms as you chatted to Mikasa. You couldn't believe Mikasa had finished university and was working hard in her job at a security and bodyguard company created by her. You and Levi supported her and Eren had done really well too and helped out at her company.

You and Levi had indulged in your relationship. You had a beautiful wedding, got a new place with a big garden. After time, you and Levi had a little surprise, which was your daughter. She wasn't planned, but a baby had been talked about. Kuchel was a blessing to you all and you all loved her deeply.

Mikasa was so in love with Kuchel, that she treated your daughter as if she was her sister. She would come over a lot just to see Kuchel and play with her. She was around you a lot when you were pregnant and kept hanging out. Mikasa and Levi bought a lot of baby things. Both melted when Kuchel was born and were so happy when she progressed and grew up a little.

You smiled at Mikasa as you both sat outside in the back garden. You laughed a little as your six-month-old girl threw her toy. "Oh my, you fed up with that toy?"

Mikasa picked it up. "I bought you this one."

You giggled. "She does like to throw things though." You saw her wiggle and whine. "I think she wants something to eat. I'm going to get her baby food." You lifted Kuchel and handed her over to Mikasa. "Miki? Could you look after your sister for me."

Mikasa hugged Kuchel. "Promise."

You hurried inside the house and grabbed drinks, food and things for Kuchel. You returned to both ladies and giggled at the two of them wearing matching sunglasses. "Look at you two! Two peas in a pod."

Mikasa smiled. "We're twins."

"You are." You moved her drink over before opening the food pot. You scooped up some and offered it to Kuchel. "Good girl." You giggled and kept feeding her as she wiggled her arms. "You really like this food, don't you?"

Mikasa cleaned Kuchel's face. "Messy sister." She looked at you. "Hey, mum?"

"Mm?"

She blushed a little. "Can I get more brothers and sisters?"

You put the empty pot on the side. "I would love to. I don't need to have a chat with Levi about more kids, he's already said he wants more. We'll wait for Kuchel to grow up a bit."

"Okay, I can wait."

"Wait?" You both looked at Levi. He frowned. "Wait for what?"

Mikasa smiled. "More babies."

He looked down at Kuchel with her little sunglasses on. "I would love more kids." He picked up Kuchel. "Hey, my baby." He kissed her chubby cheek. "Who's my cute little muffin? You are!" He hummed a laugh and bounced his baby on his hip. "My sweet little girl." He looked over to Mikasa. "I can't wait to have more kids."

You gave Mikasa her drink and snack. "Eat up, Miki."

She smiled at you. "Thank you." She blushed a little. "I'm glad you came into our lives."

You blushed. "Oh, bless you. I'm glad I'm here too." You held her hand and kissed it. "Love you, both of you."

Levi smiled. "We love you too. We wouldn't change any of this for the world." He laughed when Kuchel squealed with laughter and wiggled. "Kuchel agrees."

You giggled. "You three are the best."

[teethflavoured]

"Hey. I got something for Spyke. A lil prezzy. Sicne I heard he liked meat andall."

*holds out a massive, raw, dripping chunk of bright-red steak, supported from underneath with both hands like a large heavy box. Its place of origin within the cow (or whatever the Splatoon equivalent of cattle is) is dubious, but probably passable as human-tier (or Urchin-tier) food if cooked, assuming it's even beef. Whatever it is, it's fresh, the kind of oversaturated red typically relegated to edgy Undertale OCs clashing against the soft, milky white of a thick outer ring of fat. A cross-section of bone sits firmly in the middle, a shallow divot of pinkish marrow visible within the larger, skateboard wheel sized circle of white. The thing resembles a live-action Flintstones prop, or the kind of cartoonishly exaggerated steak drawn by someone prompted to doodle the word "meat" in 30 seconds.*

"I found this thing and thuoght he might like it. Please give it to him!! <3"

*eyes the nearby table, a small and flimsy ordeal constructed from cheaply-veneered chipboard. Sloppily painted with translucent woodstain in a warmish mud brown, rubbery brushstrokes visible and edges left streaky and bare, the thing looks absolutely pathetic, almost pitiable. The entire table is pocked and marred with dents, scratches and cigarette burns, the legs held in by bulky Allen screws, one of them being propped up with several stacked chunks of torn cardboard. It looks wobbly, the kind of thing you wouldn't place a coffee on, and it better befits a suburban curb or a pondscum-choked roadside ditch than the room we stand in. Not worth repairing, not even worth burning due to the chemicals in the stain. Just a cumbersome piece of trash that would only be employed by the truly desperate, its one purpose better served by a stack of sturdy boxes.*

"I'll just set it down over there, okey? Thanksies!!"

*without waiting for a reply, I begin approaching the sorry excuse for a table, shuffling along straight-kneed like a penguin, my back and arms tensed and straining, yet just barely managing to support the weight of the printer sized hunk of meat, weighing similarly to a portly toddler, the kind usually seen holding a melty soft-serve in a Costco parking lot (or perhaps a MakoMart). My posture resembles a parody of a Buckingham Palace guard, but I maintain a strained, pressed-lips white person smile as I scooch over to the wobbly wooden affair, face red and jaw clenched but determined to not look like a wimp.*

*SCHLAP!!*

*in a swift and gleeful motion, relieved of my meaty burden, I drop the steak straight down upon the table, removing my hands from underneath it and allowing gravity to do the rest. Unsurprisingly, about a second after the slab of flesh makes contact with wood, slamming down upon a tabletop barely large enough to contain it, the table snaps in half, sharply bowing inwards as the top breaks clean in two, then being smashed flat again as it hits the floor, the legs shooting off with corners still attached. The table has been crushed. Bits and splinters of wood lay strewn about like a beaver just finished filming a mukbang, the blast radius of wooden confetti spanning about a metre. The steak, far more durable than the table, sits fully intact upon the now-legless tabletop halves, a dappling of reddish juices and milky fat droplets upon the floor the only indicator that a fall has even occured. After a momentary flinch, hands reflexively held up in the Thriller pose, I quickly take a breath, regain composure and turn to face you once more, my cheerful grin returning in an instant as if a mental light switch was flicked back on.*

"Oops! Sorry!~"

*After a few awkward moments of silence, I skitter away excitedly with a tumblrina giggle-squee combo, leaving you alone with the floor-steak and the splintery aftermath of a slasher film written by a pine tree, no trace of my presence remaining in the room but the mess, the smell of a dingy Claire's, and a distant ruckus of barking dogs (or whatever the Splatoon equivalent of a dog is) stirred up by the ear-piercing Krakatoa of roughly 45 lbs of raw meat slamming into a hardwood floor like an apocalyptic meteor.*

oh my fucinkg GOD.

this is the 2nd 'fanfic' i got in my askbox this week. when are you guys gonna start uploading to ao3?

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 2: The Inevitable

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Spencer knows what's about to happen. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean he's prepared to deal with it

Read chapter 2 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3

Chapter 1 link

There was no sunlight. No clocks on the wall. They had been stripped of their watches and phones. They had no way of being certain how long they’d been trapped.

Spencer had a pretty good idea, though. Cool air flowed in from the small vent in the roof but sweat beaded on his brow.

They were all sat leaned against various sections of wall. The room was big enough that they had to raise their voices slightly to ensure they were heard from the opposite wall.

“Are you doing alright, Spence?” asked JJ, then rolled her eyes at herself for the asinine question, given their current situation. “I mean, relatively speaking, obviously. You look a little pale.”

“Just exhausted,” he said.

Please please please someone break the door down and let them out.

They had spent a long time analyzing the note and had come to the conclusion that whoever wrote and delivered the note was a woman. The hand size, the passive language, the fixation on teaching them a lesson. The apparent belief that she was helping them, justifying her cruelty with compassion. All of it added up to a female Unsub.

They had debated heavily if she might have an accomplice. It would have taken a significant degree of physical strength to subdue them all. Even intravenous drugs don’t knock someone out instantaneously. In addition, the site of injection was incredibly precise and nearly identical on each of them. This would only be possible by holding them very still, likely with a headlock from behind.

An accomplice certainly seemed possible, but at this stage they had no hard evidence to support it.

Everyone looked to Spencer to compile a mental list of all female Unsubs they dealt with while the team was in this particular configuration. Nobody quite fit the profile.

Antonia Slade was intelligent enough and had a history of taking her victims in to care for them before she killed them, but she wouldn’t hide behind a door. She would gloat. He wouldn’t put it past Lindsey Vaughn. She was resourceful. It’s not her MO, but she’d been known to be adaptable when a good opportunity to fuck with them presented itself. But that didn’t explain why she’d gone after them but not Luke and Tara, who she’d also dealt with.

Spencer pointed out to the team he kept tabs on Vaughn in prison, given everything that happened in Mexico. She could theoretically operate via proxy, but he was pretty confident she wasn’t their Unsub.

Truthfully, there were no good candidates. Whoever was doing this was going to need to give them something more to go off if they wanted a chance of piecing it together.

The fluorescent lights buzzed.

Once again he was living under the looming threat of violence and death but all he could think about was how terrified he was to be seen by the people he loved.

There were too many people in too small a space. He had his arms crossed tightly over his midriff to hide the fact his hands were shaking.

Everyone agreed there was no merit to speculating on what secrets she was referencing. For all they knew that was her plan. Get them to reveal information she could use against them, or get them fighting amongst themselves.

There was an invisible ticking clock. Spencer could hear it like it was real. Each second that ticked by was one closer to the moment where his most pressing secret revealed itself anyway thanks to his uncooperative body.

Nobody had spoken for a long time when Rossi piped up, “When do you think dinner is?”

They all stared at him. Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Feeling peckish?”

“If she wants to keep us imprisoned for the duration, surely she plans to feed us.” He looked up at the camera on the roof and raised his voice. “If you’re taking orders, I would love osso buco and a glass of the ’95 Chateaux Latour!”

JJ laughed. “Could you throw in a carbonara for me?”

“And a carbonara!” he demanded from the camera. “Real egg, none of that cream shit.” He looked around the room. “Any other orders? I hear the food here is excellent.”

“Ribeye on the bone, medium rare, a side of fries with a Bearnaise sauce,” said Derek, closing his eyes and giving a satisfied sigh.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” said JJ.

“Yeah, I’ll have what he’s having,” said Emily. “Throw in a pinot for me.”

“What vintage?” asked Rossi.

“Whatever one tastes best chugged straight from the bottle.”

Spencer smiled at them. Truthfully the thought of food was making his stomach turn violently, but he played anyway. “I’ll take a cheeseburger from Bernard's Burgers,” he said simply.

The others hummed in approval. They all cast their eyes to Hotch. He hesitated. Eventually, he said, “There’s a seafood restaurant a couple of blocks from where I live that has the best lobster you’ll ever try. You wouldn’t expect it from a landlocked state, but there’s nothing like it.”

Everyone nodded, satisfied with their imaginary feast.

“Not to keep bugging you, kid, but are you sure you’re alright?” asked Derek. “You’re not looking so hot.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been kind of off the last couple of days. I might be coming down with something. Sorry if you all catch it,” he said with his best impression of sincerity.

Derek made an ‘oof’ noise. “How’s that for timing?” he asked lightheartedly, though his eyes lingered longer than was entirely comfortable.

After another moment Rossi spoke again. “How long do you think we’ve been in here?”

“14 hours since we woke up,” said Spencer without missing a beat.

They all stared at him. “How the hell do you do that?” said Rossi, impressed.

He shrugged. Truthfully, he didn’t have the best internal clock. It was very easy for him to get lost in thought and lose track of time. The piercing headache and rising nausea were making him acutely aware of every passing minute.

That was how it went with this sort of thing. You had to develop a routine, especially if you wanted to function. He knew exactly how long he could go before he started getting sick. He scheduled his entire life around it.

The Unsub had clearly figured out their routines. Even if she hadn’t, the evidence of Spencer’s habits were strew across the bedside table in the room he was taken from.

He dug his nails into his arms through his sleeves. Time was running out. It was all getting away from him.

As if the Unsub had been reading his mind, the chamber on the door opened.

Derek was faster this time, managing to get his face right up to the chamber while the external hatch was still wide open.

“Talk to us!” he yelled. “We know you’re trying to teach us a lesson,” he said, an empathetic lilt pasted onto his voice. “We just want to know more. We want you to help us understand.”

A gloved hand deposited an unmarked brown paper shopping bag. The external hatch closed. The internal one released. Derek bowed his head as their captor left with no response. “She must be positioning herself to the side of the door. I still couldn’t see anything more than a hand. She’s careful, but we knew that already.”

Derek took the bag out and they all crowded around it cautiously.

It was packed full of fruit. Emily picked up an apple, turning it over in her hand.

With all eyes focused on her, she carefully took a bite.

She chewed, then swallowed.

“It tastes normal,” she assured them. “Give it half an hour to an hour to see if it has any effects on me, but I don’t think poisoning the food fits this woman’s MO.”

“I agree,” said Hotch, taking a pear. He followed Emily’s lead and cautiously bit into it. He nodded at the others.

The first rule of being held captive was to always take your food and water where you could get it. You never knew when your supply could be cut off.

They all reached in and took a piece of fruit, including Spencer. He had no desire to eat, but he knew he had to keep his strength up and get what he could down while it was still possible.

As he took his orange, he uncovered a note at the bottom of the bag. JJ saw it too, reaching in and grabbing it before he could.

They all watched her expectantly.

“Your room must always be clean. After you eat, put the food scraps in the bag and the bag in the chamber. There are consequences for breaking rules. Now, as a reward for good behavior, I will take away the burden of lies that weighs one of you down. If Dr Reid-”

She paused, reading further down the note, furrowing her brow.

They all stared at him. He tugged at his sleeves nervously.

“Keep going,” said Emily to JJ, though her eyes were fixed firmly on him.

JJ looked at him apologetically. He looked at the floor. She continued, “If Dr Reid is sick, it is only because he is missing his medicine. I gave you all a taste of it to get you here. I hope you don’t catch his disease.”

She dropped the note like it was radioactive. She mouthed the word 'sorry' at him, knowing as well as he did the shit show that was about to errupt. Derek immediately picked the note up. He looked over it himself like he didn’t want to believe JJ had read it accurately.

He looked back at Spencer.

They were all staring at him.

Instinct told him to run, but there was nowhere for him to go. Instead he stood and waited for the concrete beneath his feet to turn to liquid and encase him.

They were waiting for him to talk first.

He couldn’t.

“What’s she talking about, pretty boy?” asked Derek, finally taking pity on him and breaking the silence.

He took a few steps back, suddenly acutely aware of how close they were after gathering around the bag of fruit. “I have no idea,” he said petulantly, cringing at himself for it.

“It’s alright, kid,” said Rossi sympathetically. “Nobody is upset, just talk to us.”

Spencer’s brain sprinted in circles. Why did the lights have to be so bright?

He tried desperately to think of some clever way to talk himself out of it even though he’d figured out hours ago that this was going to happen. This Unsub’s plan was technically impressive, but it wasn’t exactly psychologically sophisticated. She wanted to out their secrets. This one was going to out itself pretty soon anyway, so of course she'd want to get to it first.

“Spencer,” said Emily, “How sick are you going to get?”

No is it true? Or does this mean what I think it means? Straight to believing it. They didn’t even look surprised. They looked like this was only confirming what they already knew. They looked sad.

Horribly, infuriatingly sad.

He ran a hand through his hair.

“The others are going to find us,” he insisted. “It doesn’t matter.”

He wished he could believe it, but he wished they could believe it even more.

“This is why you woke up before the rest of us,” said JJ softly. “Why you weren’t as affected. It’s because your tolerance is up.”

“You guys can see what she’s doing. She’s trying to pit us against each other,” he accused, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and taking another step back. "We're just playing into her fantasy."

“Don’t think about her right now,” said Emily. “If you’re going into withdrawal then we need to know exactly what to expect. Mind games can’t take precedence over your physical safety.”

“I’ll be fine. Opioid withdrawal has a statistically low mortality rate, with only 2% of the-”

“So it is opioid withdrawal?” She tilted her head. “Look at you, Spencer. You’re shaking, your skin is clammy. You said yourself, we’ve only been in here 14 hours! If it’s this bad already, how much worse is it going to get?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped. “Yes, fine, I’m going to get sick! What do you want me to say?”

“Easy, pretty boy,” said Derek gently. “This isn't an attack. The fact is, we’re all locked in here together and this is happening whether we like it or not. We just need you to tell us exactly how bad this is going to get.”

“I don’t know,” he said shortly.

“Yes, you do,” countered Emily. “You cold give us a detailed breakdown of the symptoms, timeline, and risk factors of an opioid detox based on frequency and duration of usage. You just don’t want to admit how much and for how long you’ve been using because it’s bad, right?” she said. Typical Emily, so pragmatic. There would be plenty of time for sentiment once she had a plan, but no sooner. “This isn’t just a slip, is it? You’re shooting up again and have been for a while.”

Spencer flinched. So did everyone else.

All eyes were on him, but for some reason it was Hotch’s gaze he caught. The man hadn’t said anything the entire exchange. Just stood at the back of the group and watched carefully.

When their eyes met, Hotch gave him a tight, sympathetic smile.

Spencer looked at a spot just behind Emily’s head and spoke quietly. “I… I’ll be fine, Emily. I’ll get sick but I’ll get better. It’s not the first time. I don’t need your help.”

“Roll up your sleeves,” she demanded.

He sputtered, “What? No!”

“Emily,” said Rossi placatingly. “Take a beat.”

She ignored him. “If you won’t tell us what to expect then show us. Spencer, I know this is fucking awful and believe me this is not the way I would like to have this conversation,” she said, gesturing to the oppressive room. “I am so sorry for not seeing what was happening and helping you sooner,” she said sincerely. “The least I can do is make sure you get through this safely.”

Even as he said it, he could feel himself regretting it, but before he could stop himself, “Fuck off Emily,” had slipped out his mouth.

JJ gasped and Derek interjected with a stern “Hey! I know this sucks but do not speak to her that way.”

“It’s fine,” said Emily. “I’m not trying to be condescending, Spencer. I’m just scared. I want to help.”

She sounded excruciatingly sincere. It made his blood boil.

“No,” he snapped, stepping back again until he felt the wall hit him. “None of you were there the other times I had to do this, and now you want me to defer to your expertise? What the hell do you know? What do any of you actually know? If you wanted to do an intervention you should have done it after Tobias Hankle, but none of you said anything and I don’t need you like that anymore,” he spat.

Emily’s eyes were wide with shock.

Spencer's words surprised himself just as much as the rest of them.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taken aback. “You’re right. I should have said something back then.”

Guilt twisted its way through the panic and rage, settling into his chest.

They were all trapped down there together and here he was punishing Emily for caring. He tried his best to hold onto the anger. To wrap himself in it. He could feel it slipping away.

Hotch stepped forward. Spencer had almost forgotten he was there.

“I was team leader at the time of the Hankle case. I’m the one who decided not to intervene,” he said firmly. “Emily brought her concerns to me and I shut them down because I was afraid if word got out you would lose your job, making your situation worse. I trusted that you were strong enough to recover. And you were. But you never should have done so without proper support. I regret that, Reid, and I always will.”

Maybe it was the stark inevitability catching up with him that there was simply no way to avoid going through withdrawal in front of them. Maybe it was the way his eyes kept searching for an exit he knew didn't exist. Maybe it was thinking about Tobias Hankle. All these years and all the other traumas, and a part of him was still stuck in that cabin in Georgia. A part of him always would be. Whatever it was, the fight left him.

He was still pressed up against the wall, and he slid down it until he was sitting on the cold concrete floor. The others sat too.

“I don’t know why I said that. I’m not angry about it anymore. Or, at least… I’m not angry at any of you,” he said, chancing an apologetic glance at Emily. “Maybe at Gideon, still. But what’s the point in that?”

“When someone who hurt you is gone it doesn’t take away the scars,” said Rossi. “I loved Gideon, but he made mistakes. It’s okay to be pissed about it.”

“Do you guys really want to hear all this?” asked Spencer skeptically.

They might say that’s what they want, but the subject of his addiction had never felt particularly welcome. They had always flinched away from it, just as they had only a minute ago when Emily referenced him shooting up.

He certainly didn’t want their pity or concern.

“Of course we do,” said Emily, with the others nodding emphatically.

He hesitated. They already knew, he reminded himself. They were asking because they care about him and because the secret was already out. He couldn't put it back.

“2 years. Or 1 year, 11 months, and 3 days, to be precise.”

Silence. He wanted to say stunned silence? But it could have as easily been disgust. He couldn’t tell.

“How is that possible?” asked Derek, deceptively calm.

“We couldn’t miss the signs for that long,” said JJ disbelievingly.

“It’s been on and off,” he clarified. “I was only using in between cases when I was last working with the BAU.” Then, sheepishly, “Mostly." There were some cases... well. He'd done his best. "You would be surprised how easy it is to miss substance abuse in people close to you. One study showed that up to 60% of heroin users are what we call ‘functional addicts,’ meaning they can hold down fulltime employment, social lives, and sometimes even have their addiction go unnoticed by intimate partners for months or years at a time,” he rattled off, before catching the look in his friends’ eyes and stopping. “It isn’t your fault,” he said simply. “I’ve been avoiding you on purpose. Not to mention you base your warning signs on how I behaved when I first became addicted, expecting me to be volatile and disorganized. But I’m not 25 and in the immediate aftermath of a traumatic event anymore. I have more control. It’s not a problem like it was back then,” he assured them.

“Feels like a pretty big problem right now,” said Rossi.

“Functional addicts don’t stay functional forever, pretty boy,” said Derek. “I’m sure you know the other side of those statistics.”

“I don’t have a large enough dataset to offer credible statistics on the amount of opioid addicts who get kidnapped and forced to detox in bunkers. In retrospect, I should have realized that I am an outlier who should have expected something like this to happen,” he deadpanned.

“Well, we’re all outliers vis a vis kidnappings,” replied Emily dryly. "I'm sure that makes you feel better."

“I hate doing this while we’re being watched,” he said. “It feels like we’re encouraging her. This is exactly the outcome she was hoping for. It’s why she dosed you all with opioids instead of using pure sedatives. Just to taunt me.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” said Hotch. “What matters is that we get you through withdrawal. We need accurate information to ensure we know what to do.”

“I know,” he admitted reluctantly. He took a long, slow breath. “Ask me whatever you need to,” he said, directing it to Emily.

He wished he was high right now. He’d give anything for a hit.

Emily nodded; sentiment once again pushed down the line to when the job was done. “Dilaudid?”

“It’s whatever is easiest to get.”

“So, heroin,” she clarified.

He looked at his lap. “It doesn't make a difference to the withdrawal process. It’s all derivatives of the same compound.”

“It makes a difference to your risk of overdose,” she clarified, “but you’re right, that’s not an immediate concern,” she agreed. “Needles?”

He nodded, not looking at them.

“It’s okay, kid,” said Rossi. “We’re not judging.”

He didn’t really believe that, so he didn’t respond to it.

“Every day? If so, how many times a day?” Emily asked.

“It was previously more intermittent, as I said, but for the past 8 months or so It has been twice a day at a minimum.” A beat. "Usually more."

“Okay. Thank you for telling us all that. I know this isn’t easy,” she said. “I just have one more question for now. Is there any risk that you have an infection?”

“All intravenously administered drugs come with a statistically significant risk of infection,” he said, ready to ramble about it before she threw up a hand to preemptively cut him off. “I always use sterile equipment and alcohol wipes. I’m fine.”

“You are anything but fine, pretty boy,” said Derek, shaking his head. “But we’ll get you through this.”

“That would be more comforting if we weren’t locked in a bunker by a serial killer.”

“Minor problem,” Derek joked. “Consider it a study on innovative approaches to running a rehabilitation facility.”

Spencer didn't laugh. Neither did anyone else. JJ placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

He caught Hotch's eye again, briefly.

Had any of them ever really had a shot at escaping their pasts or was this all inevitable? He wasn't getting clean by choice. Hotch wasn't there in the bunker to reconnect with them. Spencer was struck by the reality that proximity did not always mean closeness.

He was already thinking about the moment he could get out of here and get high again. Was Hotch just counting the seconds until he could disappear from their lives forever?

Assuming they didn't all just die, of course.

Maybe that's what he should be focusing on now. Just don't die. Figure out the rest later.

He leaned into JJ, letting her put an arm around him. The red light from the camera blinked down at them.

[id-element0]

Jungle Canopy Wall Mural with Matching Wall

This is the first of my small series of wall murals with a matching wall. One of my fondest memories is the wall mural we had in our living room when I was a kid. So I love the kitschy vibe of wall murals and I need more of them in my game. Then I wanted to add a plain wall with matching baseboard because I had trouble matching the existing murals with other walls.

The mural consists of 3 pieces, §15 each and is in the wall sets section of the wall categories. The matching wall is in the paint section and costs §3. 2 channels. I did them months ago and apparently I used an EP2 pattern on the baseboard, so I don't know what happens when you don't have the EP. Also, I guess for convenience, I happened to merge the files so it's one package.

Note that the mural is not seamless so you can't use it to create an endless wall of jungle. It's mainly for a 3-piece wall niche. If you encounter any problems with it just let me know so I can fix it. Happy simming.

- Credits -

Art by Bill Jackson Font: Ubuntu Condensed

Made with GIMP, s3oc, s3pe and Texture Tweaker 3

@katsujiiccfinds @pis3update @mspoodleccfinds

- DOWNLOAD -

:: MEDIAFIRE | SFS ::

[wardenparker]

Starting Over - Chapter 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

Recently arrived in Texas and only slightly removed from his divorce, Marcus finds himself smitten with the women at the housewares store that is helping him furnish his new Austin condo. It becomes a more complicated situation than he could have expected, but Marcus has never been one to shy away from a challenge when love is on the line. ✨This fic takes place *before* the events of The Mentalist.✨  

Rating: Teen Word Count: 10.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this fic will include divorce, past abusive relationships, deceased mothers, father issues/family trauma, unplanned pregnancy.* Cursing and food mentions, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader, Marcus being shamelessly flirted with, *Lisbon Alert*, fluff everywhere,  Summary: Everything’s coming up roses in the wake of Amanda’s departure from your lives, and a trip to the farm comes with a sweet surprise. Notes: We’ve finally caught up with the plot of the Mentalist in the very last chapter! Marcus deserved better than the way Teresa Lisbon treated him, and hopefully the epilogue will show that he’s gotten it. 💗✨🥰

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

“Pike!” Section Chief Russell is a generally upbeat man, or at least relatively upbeat for a lifetime member of the law enforcement occupation, and when Special Agent Marcus Pike walks into his office on Monday morning his expression is downright jovial. “Sit down, son. I’m glad to see you.”

“Sir.” Marcus nods respectfully, nervous even though he knows he’s innocent. The accusations have been withdrawn but it could still leave a mark on his service record. Sometimes people were nicest before they delivered a crushing blow.

“I’m sure you’ve had a hell of a week, so I won’t poke the bear, but is everything all right at home now?” Russell’s own office is probably not far off from what Pike’s will look like in thirty years: photos of his family set in frames given to him by his wife and pieces of art by his grandkids displayed with honor. If he’s honest, that’s probably where his soft spot for Marcus Pike comes from. The younger agent is like a glimpse into his own past. Although Pike might have more good sense about him, which is one of the reasons that this whole domestic violence nonsense had seemed to come from so far out in left field.

There’s a small sigh of relief, shifting in the fore-mentioned chair to get comfortable. “Yes sir, fortunately, after retracting her slanderous allegations, my soon to be ex-wife signed the divorce papers and there will be no mistakes by the lawyers this time.”

“Good.” Russell picks up his coffee mug, draining the last of his second morning cup. “The new Mrs. Pike is well? Baby’s good?” The full explanation of everything that was going on at home was something Pike had given privately when news of the pregnancy came down the pipe, and Russell had been a little gobsmacked but shrugged his shoulders. To each their own, he always says. And Pike had plenty of his own.

“Very good.” Marcus nods, unable to stop himself from giving a soft smile. Even though Andrew had stayed until this morning, the spare room was officially starting to look like a nursery. No traces of Amanda were left anywhere in sight.

“Good.” Leaning back in his chair, Russell surveys his young agent with an appraising eye, seeming to take one last look before he decides to go ahead and say what he planned on saying this morning. “I’m sorry you were out of the office for a few days, but a few people wanted to nose through your business, and I wanted to make sure that there wasn’t a drop of ink out of place while they did.” The older man’s face betrays a wider smile, and an unmistakable expression of pride. “You’ve been on a short list in Washington for a few months now, and as of this morning, you’re at the top of it.”

He knows the shock on his face is clear, eyes widening, as he takes in the older man’s words. He’s looked up to him as a mentor over the short time he’s been here. “Sir— I, thank you for the consideration.” He gushes slightly. “It’s an honor.”

“Marcus,” Russell chuckles, a little charmed by the earnestness on Pike’s face. “I haven’t even told you what the short list is for. It could be Archives for all you know.” Not that it ever would be. Pike has an excellent arrest record and a high conviction rate. He’s as good in court as he is on the street.

He flushes slightly, aware that he might have jumped the gun. “I would take it if that was what was offered.” He tells him honestly. “My fiancée would love nothing more than to move back to D.C. She attended college there and it’s where we are planning to get married there.”

“You would hate the Archives.” Russell’s amusement turns into a full laugh, and he nods as he leans forward in his chair again. “There’s a task force being assembled to have our Art Crimes division collaborate with Interpol and Scotland Yard. It would be a lot of desk work and a lot of travel. But?” He waves one hand as though indicating a world of possibilities. “Do well and it becomes a promotional fast track.”

Marcus’s brows raise and he nods, aware that it’s essentially being groomed for a Director role. “I understand.” He tells him. “A task force could revitalize the close of Art Crimes cases.”

“I’ve already put in my recommendation.” And he stands by it, using the time that Pike was out of the office on the outlandish domestic charges to pull up the young agent’s record and make sure everything is spotless. “I don’t know what role you might be offered, or how soon, but I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”

Understanding that he’s being dismissed, Marcus stands and holds his hand out to his boss. “Thank you for your guidance and leadership.” He tells him. “I have learned a great deal about being an agent from you during this time.”

“It’s been my pleasure.” Russell isn’t looking forward to losing his best agent, but he is proud to see Pike doing well and stands to shake his hand. “One more thing,” he remembers, wondering how this was a thing he forgot. “They’re doing a little renovation on our bullpen for the next week or two, so we’re sharing office downstairs. We’ll be using the conference room for interviews, so you can set up in there.”

“Yes sir.” Marcus nods and turns to walk out of the office, nearly floating on air he’s so excited. The idea of going back to D.C. had been a distant dream and he’s thrilled he can possibly make it a reality sooner than he ever believed possible.

******

The kitchenette downstairs is full to bursting, four other agents all bustling around making coffee and grabbing muffins including another member of his team. Isabel Cortez is making small talk with three women Marcus barely recognizes when he walks in. “Pike!” She calls his name, relieved to see him after a couple of days of no word from Russell’s office. “You came back to us!”

“I’m back!” He grins at her, always happy to see the cheerful agent. “What’s been going on?”

“We’ve got the interview for the gallery shooting in a half hour.” That’s not the good news, but it’s the work news, so Cortez makes sure she mentions it first. “And we have lovely new floor mates.” This is the good news, and she introduces the other agents easily. “Fisher, Wylie, and Lisbon. They have accepted our peace offering of muffins this morning, so now we’re all friends.”

“Nice to meet you.” Marcus smiles at each one. “Marcus Pike.”

“Nice to meet you.” The agent named Fisher puts her hand out to shake Marcus’s, and Lisbon gives him an extremely unsubtle once over before stepping forward to shake his hand as well. “I don’t recall having run into you before.” She says, offering him a small, flirtatious smile.

“I’ve been out of the office on personal business.” He offers, not elaborating on things beyond that. “But I’m here now.”

“You certainly are.”

“Ladies,” Cortez laughs, barely managing not to roll her eyes. “He’s engaged with a baby on the way, let’s let the man get back to work, huh?”

Marcus bites his lip to keep from chuckling at the disappointed expressions on their faces while the agent called Wylie looks oblivious. You would find that funny, although you will also tell him that they have every reason to be disappointed. “Speaking of working….” He glances around. “Where are we setting up?”

“Grab your coffee,” Cortez nods to the counter behind agents Fisher and Lisbon. “And I’ll show you the conference room.”

“Ladies. Gentleman.” Marcus nods and skirts around them to get to the coffee pot. He’s stopped making coffee at the house out of consideration for you.

“That’s a damn shame.” Lisbon mutters to her colleague on their way down the hall to the bullpen a few minutes later. “I’d climb that tree in a heartbeat.”

Fisher chuckles, agreeing with her. “He’s attractive and he seems nice.”

“You’re so polite about it.” Teresa laughs it off as they walk down the hall together, putting Agent Pike on the unattainable but fun to look at shelf in her mind and moving on.

******

Greater Rochester International Airport is just big enough to feel busy, but as you and Marcus step out into the sunlight of the parking lot of the car rental company to get into the little Ford Focus that you’ll be using for the weekend, it is abundantly obvious that the folks around here move at about the third of the pace of Austin. The twenty-year old snapping her bubble gum at your hands the keys to Marcus with a smile even though the reservation was under your name, and you roll your eyes in amusement as he hands them directly over to you. “It’s not too far,” you tell him as you climb behind the wheel. “Twenty-five minutes of country roads and we’ll be right as rain.” The visit to see your father is fast on the heels of Amanda’s departure from your lives and you honestly can’t remember the last time you felt so relaxed. The only worry is how your father will react to you already being pregnant, but since the ring is already on your finger you figure even a traditionalist like him will have to concede.

Marcus nods and shuffles the bags in his hand. “Are you happy or nervous to see your dad?” Marcus has his own reservations about meeting the man who he had both asked to marry him without getting permission and knocked up. Your father might have some strong feelings about it. “Hopefully he likes the gifts we’ve brought.”

“He’ll love them.” The collection of barbecue dry rubs and packets of various pickling spices that you and Marcus had put together will be right up his alley. You just wish you could have brought him a bottle of Texas whiskey as well. “I have to admit, I’m happy to be home for a couple of days. I know but the time we’re ready to leave I’ll be more than happy to retire from farm life again, but this will be nice.”

Laughing, he opens the trunk of the car and starts loading bags in. The two of you hadn’t traveled heavy, but there was plenty between you. “I’m interested in seeing home.”

“The cute little farmhouse that begot your cute little fiancée?” You joke, once he’s situated in the passenger seat beside you. “The best part of the whole place is my mother’s garden.”

“I take it your father cares for it religiously?” Marcus had a house plant once. It died a pitiful death, and he’s never tried again so he has no clue how to care for a garden.

"He does his best, and I check in on it whenever I'm home." You nod, turning over the rental car's engine and heading for the highway. "I always...I put out a vase of flowers every morning while I'm there. Like Mom used to."

“That’s good.” Marcus smiles and reaches over to rest his hand on your thigh. “I can’t wait to see that.”

The drive is quick, passing easily as you point out various landmarks or the sites of old memories to him along the way. Twenty-five minutes later exactly, you're pulling up in front of an old-fashioned farmhouse at the end of a long gravel driveway. Its white paint is chipped and worn but the shutters are the same warm red as the roof and door making the whole place look picturesque and inviting. "Home sweet home," you grin at Marcus when you park the car.

Marcus frowns at the two trucks in the yard. “Eric?” He asks, nodding towards them. “You said he still works for your dad?”

"Yeah." The bumper sticker of an angry red-and-blue-striped cartoon bee emblazoned with an M on its chest is faded but proud in the back window beside a sticker for the Buffalo Bills and one that reads Support Your Local Farmer in bold white lettering. "James Monroe High Redjackets." You explain, pointing out the first sticker. "I don't know who made that up but it's the weirdest fuckin' mascot."

“I’ve heard of Yellowjackets, but never a Redjacket.” He jokes, feeling a little nervous about meeting the dad and the ex in one go, but he owes you after the shit you put up with from Amanda. “I love you.” He murmurs suddenly, reaching for your hand to squeeze. “Your dad is going to love me by the end of this visit. I promise.”

"I have absolutely no doubts about that." And you don't, really. Your father may be a little bristly with new people but the only people he actually actively dislikes are the rude and ignorant. Marcus is neither of those things. Slipping your hand into his, you bring his knuckles up to your lips and dust a few kisses across them. "You ready to do this?"

“Of course.” Scoffing, Marcus shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “I’ve been in a standoff with a murderer, how hard can meeting your dad be?” He asks and then widens his eyes dramatically. “Shit, but I had a gun then.” He jokes.

"Yeaaah," you pat Marcus's leg with your other hand, smirking until it turns into an all-out laugh. "This time Dad has a gun, but you have the ultimate shield. You're giving him grandbabies."

“Very true.” Marcus concedes. “Plus…maybe the fact that I’m rich will help?” He is still getting used to that fact, the idea of using the trust fund, but it doesn’t bother him like it used to. He will use it to make sure that he gives you the best life possible. “Maybe I’ll buy him a tractor. Farmers love tractors.”

"I have a feeling that that factoid might piss off Eric more than it would help with my Dad." The two of you climb out of the car and you huff slightly, soothing your belly automatically with one hand as you straight up. "Just be yourself, baby. That's all you need to do and I promise everything will be fine."

“I just don’t want your relationship with him to suffer.” That’s what Marcus worries about the most. If his father-in-law didn’t care for him, he could live with that. He’s a grown man and knows sometimes people just don’t like each other. But the last thing he wants is to affect your relationship.

"I think you're worrying more than you need to." You try to reach for your own bag but get a dirty look from Marcus for the brazen audacity of thinking he would ever let you handle your own carryon. "Come on," you laugh, shaking your head at him. "We should be just in time for lunch."

“Okay.” Marcus makes sure the only bag you are holding is the one containing the gifts. That is fine. “You should be hungry. You haven’t eaten in two whole hours.”

"Har har har." Rolling your eyes at him as you climb the two steps to the porch, you stick out your tongue like the very mature adult that you are. "Go ahead and tease the pregnant lady about her snacking habits and then see if you get any tonight. I dare you."

“Wait.” Marcus comes to a dead stop. “You mean that’s on the table here?” He asks in wide eyed wonder. He had expected to be told hands off under your dad’s roof.

"I mean we should probably keep the volume down to be respectful, but yeah. I don't see why not." It's not like you and Eric hadn't lived technically in sin in this house for almost an entire year. There isn't any reason you can think of why you shouldn't be able to indulge with your fiancé over the weekend.

“Shit.” Marcus shakes his head. “I’m sorry baby. I know I’m starving.” He shoots you a grin and a wink.

"Well I can't have you starving for affection." You pull him close for a quick kiss - alright, two - before knocking loudly on the front door and barging directly inside. "Dad! We're home!"

Marcus follows you inside, shuffling bags and setting them out of the way as he hears footsteps coming from the kitchen. Wanting this to go as well as he possibly can, he turns towards the sounds and watches as your father moves into view.

“Sunny?” You hear him before you see him, your father’s deep voice ringing through the house easily, and grin when he strides through the kitchen doorway. “Well I’ll be damned girl, look at you.” He huffs, and anyone who didn’t know him would think he was annoyed. But that’s just how he sounds. “You look happy, Sunshine. Give your old man a hug.” It’s about the easiest request you can think of, even if your father is a full foot taller than you and it still makes you feel like a little kid to have to reach up to him in tip toes. At least, for now, you chose loose enough clothes that your belly isn’t immediately on display. He would have said something. “Dad,” you pull back from your father and turn to smile at your fiancé. “This is Marcus.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Marcus offers his hand, immediately taken in a very firm grip. Part of him thinks that it might be a test of strength but another part of him thinks that it’s just your father’s handshake. “She has been looking forward to this trip.”

“She doesn’t get home often enough.” Your father contends, surveying Marcus carefully before letting his hand go. “I guess I have you to thank for getting her back. Come on in, kids, we were just making lunch.”

Deciding that leaving the luggage in the entryway is the best course of action, Marcus follows you as you follow your father through the hall. Glancing at pictures on the wall that he will want to study when he has the chance. It’s obvious that they are pictures from when you are younger and he can’t wait to see them.

“Look at what the cat dragged in.” There is a younger man standing in the kitchen, tan and blonde with bright blue eyes and broad shoulders, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. There is a pot of soup on the stove and a cutting board laden with the ingredients for grilled cheese on the counter behind him, as he is obviously ensconced in everyday life here. “Hi Eric.” You’ll be civil, friendly even, because if what your ex means to your father in terms of the family farm - but any feelings you had for this man beyond passing cordiality have long since dried up. “Um— Eric, this is Marcus. My fiancé.”

Eric's eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hadn't actually expected the fiancé to be real if he was honest with himself. Your father had said something about a man, but he hadn't thought it was as serious as you had said. Recovering, he wipes his hand on his jeans and holds his hand out to Marcus. "Eric. Ex-fiancé." He chuckles.

"Except this time there's a date and a venue that doesn't involve milking cows between the ceremony and reception." You mumble, shaking your head. "So what is it that you do, son?" Your father has gone to retrieve a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator and two more glasses. "Sunny here didn't give out too many details. Was it...law enforcement?"

Marcus lets go of Eric's hand and nods, shuffling slightly. "Yes sir, I'm with the FBI." He explains, wondering if they will be uncomfortable at the mention of federal law enforcement. Sometimes people are wary of any of the alphabet agencies.

"FBI?" Handing off two glasses of tea to you and Marcus, your father raises an eyebrow at you. "You really couldn't stand small-time anything, could you, Sunny?" "It was a coincidence," you take the glass easily, nudging Marcus toward the kitchen table so you're not all just standing around awkwardly. "He came into my store to buy furniture after he moved to the city, and I helped him pick some things out."

"She was a lifesaver." Marcus corrects with a small laugh. "Everything in my condo she helped pick out, beyond a few paintings."

"I'm kinda wishing I had talked you out of the leather sectional now that I'm living there," you joke, poking at Marcus a little as you sit down at the table. "I end up sticking to it whenever I fall asleep in the living room."

"We will be glad we can just wipe it off." He reminds you, smiling slightly at the upcoming mess and destruction of furniture that all kids seem to bring with them.

"She's a fairly tidy girl, I think you'll be alright." Eric is back to the business of making sandwiches, adding then one by one to a large pan. "No...uh..." Shaking your head, you reach over to thread your fingers through Marcus's and sit back in your chair. You definitely hadn't planned on doing this in front of Eric, but maybe it's worth it to get around what would otherwise be a gossip storm. "We have, uh...we have one more thing we wanted to announce. And then you can resume the interrogation."

Marcus squeezes your hand in reassurance. He had told you that he would tell your father, but you had insisted you wanted to be the one. “We are really excited.” He adds, wanting him to know that he is happy for the baby.

“More announcement than that you’re getting married?” Your father raises an eyebrow as he sets bowls of soup down at the table. “You kids running off to Vegas for this wedding or something? You can’t be in any kind of trouble with an FBI fiancé, right?” “Nobody’s in trouble, Dad.” You hang on to Marcus’s hand to steady yourself, but the fact is you’re so happy about everything finally going well that you know you’re beaming. “I’m pregnant.”

Marcus watches at Eric’s interested face falls -obviously not happy with the the news - turning to watch the cogs in your father’s head turn as his frown furrows his brow. Not the most enthusiastic response, but he knows it’s a surprise to him.

“But you said that you got engaged two weeks ago, Sunshine.” Watching your father put the pieces together is making your stomach flip - and it’s not the baby moving around that making you green around the gills. His frown is fully formed as he eyes your oversized shirt, and his gaze is disapproving where you were so sure he would be excited. “H-how…how far along are you?” “Twenty-two weeks. I’m due in December.” Gently smoothing one hand over your loose clothing reveals your noticeable bump, and the smile on your face is watery with happy tears. “We—we just found out last week. We’re having a boy.”

"I am fully aware that this is a shock and seemingly sudden." Marcus adds. "But I want to assure you that we have been nothing but thrilled to be preparing for the baby and expanding our family." He levels a look at your father - man to man. "I understand that you might be upset at me, and I deserve it. But I love your daughter and I want nothing more than to provide for and spoil her and our coming children."

“Sudden’s sort of an understatement.” Rubbing at the back of his neck, your father leans forward in his chair and surveys the pair of you carefully. “You know you don’t have to marry this man just because he gave you a baby, Sunny,” he reminds you slowly. “You can come home and I’ll take care of you and my grandson myself. Things ain’t like they used to be.” “Daddy.” It’s your turn to frown, but you understand that it’s coming from a place of care and concern even though it might not sound like it. “I love Marcus so much. I would have said yes to marrying him even without the baby, and we’re excited to be parents. We’re going to have a big family and bring your grandbabies up to visit as much as we possibly can. This is a good thing. All of it. I promise.”

This isn't going so hot. Marcus squirms, only comforted by the fact that this is what you want. "If she had chosen to not be with me, I still would have made sure that both your daughter and my child never wanted for anything." He promises, knowing that it would have broken his heart, but he would have done it.

That seems to mollify the older man slightly, and your father looks back at you with a slightly softened expression. “You’re happy?”

“Yes.”

“Excited?”

“Yes.”

“You love this man and you trust him?”

“More than anything.”

“Well shit.” One fist pounds the kitchen table exuberantly as your father leans back on his chair with a wide smile on his face. “I guess we’re having a party then.”

Thank God. Marcus blows out a silent breath of relief. Eric is still frowning, and he knows the man had hopes that you would come to your senses and come back home - to him. Marcus had just ruined that plan for him. He hates it for him, but you weren't going to ever give him that fantasy anyway.

“Barn party?” You grin at your father, knowing exactly what he’s thinking and he nods. “Mom used to throw barn parties with her friends.” Squeezing Marcus’s hand, you can give him sort of a quick outline of the kind of thing your father is talking about. “It kind of became town tradition. Anytime somebody has some good news they want to share, they call around and invite everybody over to eat and drink all night in whoever’s barn is hosting. We play music and the kids bring games. Everybody brings food. They’re a very casual way to have a lot of fun.”

A potluck in a barn." His brow raises, but he's not judging it. "I think that would be fun." He offers, smiling at you. I'll help in whatever way you need me to."

“You want to show him around town, Sunny?” Now that you’re father has decided that he accepts the situation, he’s all in - only regretting the fact that your mother isn’t here to celebrate with you, too. “I’ll make you a list of things to pick up for tonight and you can spread the word?” Of course he’ll make some calls as well and start setting up, but he needs to be at the farm to do the work in between chatting. “Congratulations.” Eric murmurs, not meaning it for a second as he puts the plate of sandwiches down in the middle of the table. “Jim, I’m gonna go and check on that bit of fencing in the east end of the pasture. I’ll meet you for the afternoon milking.”

Marcus frowns slightly at the man quickly walks to the door and opens it. Turning to you and sighing softly. He wonders if he should go talk to the man, or if it would make things even more difficult.

“Let him adjust.” You squeeze Marcus’s hand gently before turning to the food in front of you. The baby is basically keeping you in a constant of hunger lately and you’re not going to lie - your dad’s vegetable soup is comfort food. “He’s had a bomb dropped on him…I’ll go and talk to him before the party tonight.”

"Okay." Marcus doesn't like it, but there is nothing he can do. You and Eric have history and he respects that. "Your soup smells wonderful." He compliments your father. "She's been looking forward to some comfort food. The baby's been giving her a bit of a time with foods that don't agree with her."

“Her mother had a world of trouble.” It had been a part of her decision to only have one child, ultimately. That your mother’s pregnancy had been so difficult. “I swear by the time she was six months along there were only about five things she could eat without having trouble.”

“Oh good, so this is hereditary.” Despite rolling your eyes, you shoot Marcus a grin. Any difficulties you might be having are well worth it as long as the baby is healthy.

“As hereditary as your hair and eyes and smile.” Your father nods. He always liked to point out how much like your mother you look and since her passing it’s made you feel just a little bit closer to her memory. “So Marcus,” he doles out sandwiches and takes a sip of his tea. “What sort of work do you do for the FBI?”

Marcus sets the sandwich down and gives his full attention to his future father-in-law. “I work in Art Crimes.” He explains. “Stolen, copied or plagiarized famous works. Mainly working with museums to recover works from the black market.”

“So no drug dealers or gun runners or anything that’s going to make my daughter a young widow.” Jim nods his head. “Good. Not that I don’t have respect for those people, but my concern is for Sunny.”

“I won’t lie and tell you that there is no danger with my job.” Marcus tells him honestly. “But I will do everything in my power to come home to her everyday.” He promises. “And, while it’s a small consolation, if something happens to me, she will not be a bereft widow.” Before his father had left, he had the attorney’s draw up a will that would be iron clad and provided for you and any and all future Pike-ettes. Everything he had would go to you and there was no way anyone could contest it. Not even his father.

“Planning for the future important.” Jim nods solemnly, face momentarily drawn. “Everyday I had with her mother was precious. Lizzie was barely ever sick a day in her life besides being pregnant and getting cancer. You just…you never know what can happen.”

“I am very sorry that I never got a chance to meet her.” Marcus murmurs softly. “My own mother died when I was 17 from cancer and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through in my life, I can’t imagine if it was the woman I love.” His hand grips yours tightly wanting to suddenly demand that you go to every doctor’s screening available without fail.

“And we’re not imagining that now.” Holding onto Marcus, you squeeze his hand back reassuringly. “I’m fine, the baby is fine, everybody is good and we’re not worried.” In fact, since Amanda left, the only dark spot in your days has really been work. Even your morning sickness is starting to let up a little.

He smiles, picking up your joined hands and kissing the back of it softly. “All I want.” He promises you, not worried about showing affection around your father. He won’t grope you in front of the man who had helped create you, but he wasn’t going to hide his feelings for you.

“So,” he smiles, glad to see a bit of natural affection between you. There should be, between spouses. “When’s the wedding?”

“October 11th.” You brighten at what is easily one of your two favourite topics of conversation. “It’s a Saturday, and a long weekend, and Marcus and I will make sure that you have your own room at the hotel for as long as you want to stay. I know you don’t like to be away from the farm for too long, but we’ll take care of everything. All you have to do is show up and walk me down the aisle.”

He knows you will be heartbroken if your father claims that he can’t leave. He hopes that he won’t, but he also wants to make sure it doesn’t happen. “If necessary, I’ll be happy to hire workers to make sure that everything is running smoothly while you are gone.” He offers.

“Eric can mind the place for a few days. He and Ginny can hold down the fort.” He looks to you with a tilt of his head. “Long as you don’t mind your cousin missing your wedding in favor of your old man being there?”

“Ginny? Seriously?” Though you sound incredulous, you do nod. “I didn’t think any of Aunt Corinne’s kids ever went in for the farm life. That’s great, though. I’m glad you have good hands to help out and not just the seasonal guys.” Soup spoon back in hand, you lend your bewildered fiancé a grin. “Aunt Corinne is my mom’s sister. She and Uncle Rob own a cheese shop in town, and I thought all of their kids worked there too, but I guess not.”

Marcus hums, intrigued by the idea of a cheese shop. “I can see not wanting to work for the family business.” He quips, thinking about himself.

Your father catches Marcus’s tone and looks over at him. “What business did you leave behind to fight crime, then?”

“My father runs a technology company.” He tells your dad nonchalantly, as if it’s not a big deal.

“Hmm.” Though he doesn’t know why, that wasn’t the answer Jim was expecting, so he just nods. “Not everybody’s cut out for the same things are their parents,” he acknowledges, pointing at you. “My girl did everything we asked of her, but she just wasn’t happy on the farm.”

“I completely understand.” Marcus nods, not going into why he didn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. “Running HP wasn’t my idea of a future. So I made my own path.”

The company name doesn’t register in your father’s mind, and he nods as he pushes his clean plate away on the table. “And the two of you together?” He asks instead. “You have a path together?”

“I think we do.” Marcus smiles and kisses your hand again. “I have told your Sunny that I will fully support anything she wishes to do, even if she would like to be a stay-at-home mom. Or become a powerhouse in the hospitality business.”

“Good.” When Jim nods this time, he pushes back from the table and picks up a notebook and pen from the sideboard nearby. A few moments of silence gives him a chance to jot a few things down, and after briefly reviewing the items he hands it over to you. “You kids head into town and pick up some supplies,” he tells you, digging into his back pocket for his wallet to get you a credit card which you immediately refuse to take. “Invite whoever you want while you’re in town, I’ll make a few phone calls myself. Tell ‘em 6:30.”

Marcus watches as your father kisses your cheek and then heads out the same door that Eric had left through. “Well that went okay, I think this means that he approves?” He asks, gesturing to the list of items to get for the barn party.

“I thought he’d be thrilled immediately and even I didn’t expect a party.” You haul yourself up from the table and give Marcus a kiss before you start to gather empty plates and glasses from the table. “Want to help me load the dishwasher before we go? Downtown isn’t big but I’ll get to show you all my old haunts.”

“Baby, you sit down.” He huffs. “You can point to where things go.” He knows you can do things for yourself, but he also knows you might get a little sick after eating so he wants you to let your food settle.

With Marcus following your direction, the kitchen is quickly cleaned up and you’re grabbing your purse from the entryway where you left it before you head back out to the rental car. “So, is it as quaint as you were expecting, so far?”

“I think that it’s charming.” Marcus looks over at you and grins. “I can see our kids running around out here.”

“Soon enough.” One hand on your belly makes you hum and return his smile. “First stop is Aunt Corinne and Uncle Rob’s shop. She’ll riot if she’s not the first to know about the party.”

“I can understand that.” Marcus grins at you and reaches over to cover your hand with his. “Family needs to be told first. And I’m curious about this cheese shop.”

******

“You looked at me like I was crazy when I went off on cheese knives and graters the day we met, but I come by it honestly.” The drive into town isn’t too bad, just average country roads that you’ve seen a million times but Marcus can’t enough of. The hand-painted East Rochester Cheese Co. sign above the retro-looking shop front on the corner of Main and Elm is an East Rochester institution since Uncle Rob’s father opened the place in the early 60s. Now they proudly sell cheeses made on your family’s dairy farm from freshly milked cows that get pampered more than any pageant queen. Aunt Corinne works the front counter while Uncle Rob handles the deliveries and stock, and puts his accounting degree to work on the books, and their sons do every job in between. It’s a full family operation, right down to your cousin’s kids colouring at a table in the corner when you walk in.

“Wow.” Marcus whispers as he walks into what he can only describe as a cheese haven. Every kind of tool and cheese board is stocked on the shelves and there are cheeses he’s never even heard of written on a board as a specialty.

“Saying the cheese course of our wedding dinner will be the most important plate was not an exaggeration.” Being back in such a familiar space with Marcus by your side is so relaxing that you actually sigh happily, right before a screech of “Sunny!” goes up from the doorway behind the counter and the blur of a short woman all in blue and white bolts out from around the counter to squeeze you in a crushing hug. “Careful!” You laugh, prying your aunt off you. “You can’t squeeze as hard as you want to right now.” With a grin at Marcus, you add: “Baby on board.”

To say that Corinne’s mouth drops open would be an understatement. Pulling back quickly and glancing from your stomach to your face and then finally over at Marcus. “Oh my God, what did your father say?” She breathes out in shock.

“He said ‘party at 6:30’.” You grin, reaching for Marcus’s hand. “Aunty, this is my fiancé, Marcus.”

"Fiancé." She hums in approval, looking Marcus up and down and the small grin grows wider. "You landed yourself a good looking man, Sunny." She tells you with glee. "You look natural together, unlike the last one you were with." She's not certain if you've told Marcus who you were with and she won't try to rock the boat by speaking out of turn.

“Aunt Corinne was never a fan of Eric’s.” You explain, offering Marcus a shrug that barely contains an accompanying smirk. “Clearly.”

She huffs and rolls her eyes. "Yeah and I hope to hell he doesn't turn his eyes on Ginny."

“Just because he wasn’t right for me doesn’t mean he can’t be right for someone else.” Pulling your father’s list from your purse gives you a little bit of focus and you squeeze Marcus’s hand again reassuringly. “We wanted to tell dad about the baby in person, and it was a good excuse to show Marcus where I grew up.”

“Of course.” She smiles at Marcus. “He should know where you get your crazy from.” She winks with her joke and looks over the list. “I’ll bring the cheese board of course.” She insists. “No need to put in an order. We will make sure it’s spectacular. A welcome to the family thing.”

“Can I talk you into putting an extra block of dill Havarti in with whatever you bring over?” You’re practically salivating looking through the case and Marcus grins at your enthusiasm. “It’s Marcus’s favourite and the baby is very into herbs.”

“I was actually thinking about bringing a fondue fountain.” Corinne shoots you a grin. “I have a new model I want to test out. How does that in dill Havarti sound?”

You nearly groan, realizing you’re salivating at the thought only a second later. “You’re a genius, aunty,” you promise her, with all the sincerity you can possibly muster.

“Anything for my favorite niece.” She gives you another wink, not mentioning that you are her only niece, and her eyes slide down to your stomach again. “How far along are you, hun?”

“Twenty-two weeks. Due in December.” With Marcus beside you at the counter, you’re suddenly wishing you had blocked out an entire day of this trip just to sit and eat cheese and see your family. It’s so much nicer to visit when there’s something happy to celebrate and right now you have double the happiness. “I’m just hoping he’s not late, so he doesn’t lose his birthday to the holiday season, ya know?”

"I'm sure you would never let that happen, even if he was a holiday baby." She doesn't miss the reference to it being a boy and she's practically shaking in giddy happiness. "You let me know what you are doing for a baby shower and I'll either be there or we will throw you one here."

“We’re not planning on doing anything big.” Having talked it over, you and Marcus had decided that getting everyone together for the wedding was more important than trying to do an additional shower, especially with that being busy time for you at work and everything. “But the wedding is going to be in October, and that’s really what’s more important to us.”

“You’re going to be a beautiful bride.” Corinne suddenly gets a little watery eyed and leans in for another hug. “I wish your mother could have seen it. Happy looks good on you.”

“Thanks, aunty.” You squeeze her shoulders tight, appreciating how easy it is for your family to see that you truly are happy. The ease with which they’re accepting Marcus makes everything more exciting on a level you hadn’t anticipated. “I’m, um…I’m going to wear her jewelry in the day. There are a few things in my jewelry box that were hers and I thought it would be a nice way to have her there.”

“I have her veil.” Corinne announces. “She - it had a small rip in it, from when you used to play with it as a little girl. Then she got sick and it became unimportant.” Her sigh is heavy and laced with the sorrow of a sister who had lost her best friend. “But I did fix it and packed it away for you. If you want it.”

“Hmm.” Your lips twist and you raise an eyebrow at your aunt in amusement. “Weird how that offer never happened when I was engaged to Eric.” Even Marcus has to laugh at that, although he politely stifles his while you and Aunt Corinne have an all-out giggle. “I would love that, aunty. Thank you. Any way we can have our mothers with us, we want to. That is, um…Marcus lost his mother as well. Younger than I did. So we’re trying to find ways to carry them with us that day.”

“I’m so sorry.” Corinne turns to Marcus and reaches out to hug him fiercely. “I know that there is nothing I can say, but I am sorry.”

“Aunty, we should get going on this list.” More hugs all around, and you reach for Marcus’s hand again. “We’ll see you tonight?”

“Of course.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t want an angry pregnant lady because I didn’t bring the fondue.”

******

Nothing is forgotten that night, and it seems like the entire town has turned up to meet the man who managed to tie down the wandering farmer’s daughter and see if the rumoured baby bump is for real. Gossip spreads fast in small towns and everybody on Main Street today caught at least a glimpse of you and Marcus walking hand in hand between stores. The barn has overflowed out into the nearest pasture and every table has been piled up with food and drink. A few people came with gifts or morsels of long-standing family advice, and your cousins even showed up with sound equipment to be able to play music that’s far better than what happens when Stuart and Eddie from the hardware store have one too many and decide to reminisce about their high school band. Citronella torches keep the bugs at bay and the kids have been playing games for hours while their parents and older siblings dance and eat. It’s…well, it’s the most perfect engagement party you could ever ask for.

“Wow.” Marcus can’t believe this is the same barn he had walked into hours ago. “They manage to put together a party quickly.”

“It helps when everybody is allowed to pitch in,” you tease, seeing as Marcus hadn’t wanted you to overdue anything and wanted you to take it easy during setup. You had compromised by staying just in the barn while he brought you everything that needed to be set up on the tables.

“This is what you wanted.” He realizes this now that he sees how much you love it. You hadn’t wanted to be married here, but you wanted this. Your community celebrating your happiness.

“I feel like we’ve been haunted for months.” It’s silly to admit, and probably sounds stupid to have it said out loud, but as you sway with Marcus on the makeshift dance floor it makes perfect sense. “We can finally breathe. Breathe and laugh and be excited about the future without having to look over our shoulders. And that is cause for celebration.”

“Yes it is.” Marcus decides that right now is the perfect moment to tell you. “The lawyers called while you were in the house peeing.” He grins at the fact that you go to the bathroom every twenty minutes like clockwork now and strokes your back to soothe you when you tense up at the mention of the lawyers. “The court date has been moved up to next week. So the divorce will be final sooner than we hoped.”

“Oh, thank god.” The sigh that escapes you is audible, like air leaving a balloon. “It’ll all be over…”

“I know.” His lips brush over your cheek and find your lips. “I can’t wait to marry you.” He promises.

"It feels like it's taken forever to get here even though it's only been a few months." You don't let him get far, stealing another kiss before he straightens his back again. "Bet you weren't expecting to be married again and be a father within a year of moving to Texas."

“Not at all.” He shakes his head and gives you a smile while reaching up to cup your cheek. “I came to Texas believing I was starting over.” He murmurs softly. “But what I really did was find the life I am supposed to have, the woman I’m to spend the rest of my life with.”

"I love you, Marcus Pike." Turning your head ever so slightly lets you kiss his palm, and you smile again the warmth of his skin. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

******

You may have gone a little overboard. A lot overboard. In the weeks since Amanda had invaded your workplace, even Marcus’s reinstatement, the trip to the farm, and the divorce and haven’t been able to smooth over the cracks in the rose-tinted glow of how you used to look at your job. Maybe it’s your second trimester talking, but long days standing on cement floors getting yelled at by entitled people who no sense of humanity or manners just isn’t something you can take anymore. It used to be something you took with a grain of salt, but the fact is – you never intended to be in retail for the rest of your life, and working for a corporation that gives you no room to accommodate or stand up to customers as the situation calls for it has finally run its toll on you.

Which is why, as you hustle around the kitchen at the end of Marcus’s workday, the entire place smells like Thanksgiving. It’s Marcus’s favourite meal in the whole world and since you’re basically going to tell him tonight that you want to quit your job, you thought he deserved his favourite foods. Hopefully you won’t be unemployed for long, but for now? For now, this is sort of your peace offering for telling him you might be a housewife for a while.

Marcus pulls up at the house, grinning to himself when he sees your car. Reaching over into the passenger seat to pick up the flower bouquet he had stopped to pick up on the way home from work. “Babe...” Marcus groans when he opens the door and smells the mouthwatering scent of dinner. “I’m home and it smells delicious in here.” He drops his keys on the table in the entry way and shuts the door behind him.

“Turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cornbread and sausage stuffing, green bean casserole, and Brussels sprouts with bacon and pearl onions.” When you pop out from around the corner wearing an apron over your oversized t-shirt and leggings, you offer him a proud smile. “Everything is homemade except the apple pie. I suck at baking pies.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Marcus protests because he feels like he should, not because he’s not appreciative. “But I am going to make sure that I rub your feet tonight longer than normal.” He walks over and drops a kiss on your lips before he offers you the flowers. “These are for you.”

“I wanted to. And they’re beautiful,” you hum, barely letting him pull away before you’re stealing another kiss. “What’s the occasion?” There are decorative vases in certain favourite spots in the house, but only recently have you actually been able to put flowers in them. You never did before for certainty that Amanda would destroy any buds outside your bedroom.

“Well, we closed our case today and I also have some other news that we need to celebrate.” Marcus murmurs, not wanting to give it away too quickly. “We can talk about it during dinner.”

“Everything’s pretty much ready, I just have to get the sprouts out of the pan.” Nodding toward the kitchen, Marcus followers you and – as you expected – immediately starts bringing things to the table. “We’re going to be eating leftovers for days, but I didn’t think you would mind.”

“My favorite kind of meal.” He loves when you can make enough to have leftovers for a few days. Some of them had made him extremely popular in the break room when he heats them up.

“There might be more of it to come soon.” There’s just no way to know, and you hope that he really meant those times when he assured you that he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay home with the kids.

“That sounds great, babe.” He murmurs, reaching into the fridges to grab the bottle of sparkling water so he can mix it with the raspberry lemonade. “But don’t overwork yourself.”

“I won’t.” That, you can promise him. In just a minute more you’ve fully loaded the dining room table with the traditional feast and you’re handing Marcus a plate to load up while you pour drinks. “So. Case closed?”

“Case closed.” Marcus shakes his head. “Jane was right, as much as I hate to admit it.” He hadn’t particularly cared for the consultant, even though everyone had sung his praises. He seemed like he would be a good con man - which he apparently was for years.

“Do you have to work with them again?” You don’t so much mind that apparently some of the female agents thought Marcus was attractive – because obviously you agree – but you know he didn’t care much for their consultant.

“I can tell you with certainty that I’ve worked my only case with them.” Marcus hums happily, a little pleased smirk on his face.

“Is your floor done already? That was fast.” It’s only been a bit over two weeks – you expected it to take a lot longer than that with how long he says the government contractors always take. “That’s exciting. You get your desk back.”

“Actually….” Reaching over, Marcus takes your hand. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“You look excited.” Carefully putting down your fork, you reach over and close your other hand over his. “Did you get something big? I mean I’m not hoping somebody got hurt or anything, but you’ve had a couple of long cases. Did you get a break in something?”

“I found out today that I’ve been selected to lead a task force that will work with Interpol and Scotland Yard on Art Crimes.” Marcus tells you. “In D.C.”

“No!!” Squeezing his hand in excitement, you’re practically propelled out of your chair and throwing your arms around him, babbling incessantly in between kisses to his cheeks and lips. “Baby, that’s— that’s amazing! That’s huge, and it’s so fast! I’m so, so so proud of you, Marcus. You work so hard, baby.”

He soaks up your affection like a sponge, happy that this has happened. Kissing you back and caressing the now very obvious baby belly that has grown over the past few months. “The only thing is…they need me there in a month. Five weeks at most.” He sighs and looks up at you. “If you want to take your time, I can go out there ahead of you.”

“No way in hell.” The proud tears in your eyes are threatening to spill over, and you sniffle them back with one more kiss before pulling back a little to look him in the eyes. “Work never got better even after the Wicked Witch left, honey. I’m still dreading every shift and coming home in tears, and it’s not because of the hormones. I— um, honestly? I was going to talk to you about wanting to give notice. I want to get back into hotels. So…this is actually perfect timing for a move.”

“Quit.” Marcus tells you immediately. “Give notice, walk out, whatever you need to do baby.” He reaches out to take your hand. “You know I will support whatever you want to do however I can.”

“I have the perfect excuse without needing to get into things now.” More than anything, you had dreaded knowing you would feel compelled to explain yourself. To give a reason why you no longer enjoyed your job. “But my amazing fiancé getting a huge promotion is all the reason in the world. I’m so proud of you, baby. Your own task force? That’s enormous.”

“I know.” He blows out a breath and looks nervous for the first time since he’s been given the news. “It will be a lot of work, especially at the beginning.”

“And you’re going to be incredible.” You have nothing but the utmost faith in him and you know it’s well founded. “I’ll tell them two weeks when I go in tomorrow and then we can be in DC as soon as you need.” The idea of that far-off, theoretical DC move suddenly being imminent is nothing but exciting for you.

“I’ll need to call my father so he can give the tenants notice.” Marcus tells you, before he gives a grin. “He showed me the house. You’re going to love it.”

“What’s it like?” So far all you knew was that it was a Victorian, but past that it could be absolutely anything.

“Dad sent me a link.” He pulls out his phone. “Apparently the trust has a page dedicated to the contents of the trust. They updated photos after doing some minor repairs.”

You scoot your chair closer to his at the table as Marcus punches in a password, so the two of you can look together. “Oh wow…” As soon as you look at the view from the front gate, it’s like it was built just for the two of you. The all-brick construction was probably intended to keep the house cooler in DC’s warm weather, but now it combines with the shoulder-height wrought iron gate surrounding the property to create an impressive historical facade. The garden seems to extend all the way around the sides, too, and includes a few fruit trees from the look of it. But it’s the dogwoods framing the entrance to the driveway that you really love. “I don’t even care what the inside looks like,” you joke as Marcus scrolls through the pictures. “It’s gorgeous.”

“I don’t think my father has ever owned an ugly house.” He admits, remembering how nice his house with his mom had been. He had wondered for years why he had obviously spent so much money, but had always written it off as guilt. “It will be modernized as much as design will allow too.”

“Holy crap, it has six bedrooms?” Glancing through the facts listed alongside the photos, you see a construction date of 1893, six beds, eight baths, and that central air was somehow installed in the historical home in the time since that became possible. “If it has a library I’m going to cry,” you tell him, starting in on your dinner with a laugh.

“Baby….” Marcus shakes his head and looks at you in delightful exasperation. “There’s a study – which is basically a library.” He flicks his thumb and takes the photos to the large study with build in bookshelves.

“If you ever can’t find me,” you look him in the eye very seriously. “I am either in the garden, or in my library. Goddamn, it’s sexy just saying it.”

“We will have to get very comfortable lounge chairs for you to curl up in.” Marcus muses with a grin. “And make sure we’ve got plenty of books to read on those rainy or snowy days.”

“I hope the fireplace is functional.” The ornate fireplace built into one wall of the study just cries out for a snowy day family cuddle pile featuring all four Pike-ettes. “Six bedrooms means each of the kids has their own room and we still have a guest room for when one of their grandfathers comes to visit.”

“That works even better than I ever could have imagined.” Marcus admits, knowing housing prices are outrageous for larger homes. He had anticipated children sharing a room at the least.

“We got lucky.” And you know exactly who to thank for it, considering Andrew explicitly put his childhood home aside for Marcus years ago. “I just hope the tenants that are there now are really okay with us moving in. I know Andrew said they had been looking for someplace smaller now that their kids are moved out, but this is short notice.”

“If they need longer, we can always stay in a hotel until they are ready.” Marcus smirks at you. “I don’t mind having you pampered for a little bit with room service and maybe spa treatments.”

“I guess we won’t have to worry about flying to DC for anything before the wedding.” Dinner is great, but now everything is great along with it and you feel like you’re buzzing in your seat. “But I think we should scale back the honeymoon. I doubt you’ll be able to get two whole weeks off with a brand-new task force.”

Marcus shakes his head. “I’ve already been assured that all my leave that already has been approved is rolling over.” He assures you. “I asked when I was told.”

“Well damn.” The smile on your face couldn’t possibly get any bigger, or it would just split you in two. “Got any other good news for me, while you’re at it? Did you go out and get a puppy on the way home and you’re just hiding it in your jacket?”

“No, I thought we would pick out a puppy when we get to D.C.” Marcus winks at you. “After the honeymoon so we don’t give the pup separation anxiety.”

“I’m never going to sleep again.” And yet? That doesn’t sound bad at all. Not when it comes on the heels of a happy family and a brand-new life that’s everything you ever wanted.

______

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