#Cleaning Out the Vineyard House

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Fic: Cleaning Out the Vineyard House (Poll Results 2nd)

This list was inspired by this poll-- 1st part here~.

(**Note**: I'll edit out errors later when no one's looking.)

Loose chronological order below~ 

raspberrycoffeecake's Vineyard-Haven

""But he turns back toward the sea, retracts his arms, and wraps them around his knees, closing in on himself.

“I came out here once the year after Samantha disappeared,” he says in an even tone. He’s still looking out at the waves, and she wonders if he’s talking to her or to himself. “It was just a normal summer morning. My father was upstairs in his office, writing letters, making phone calls, ignoring us like he always did. My mother made me a sandwich to take with me to the baseball field, as if there had always been just one child to make sandwiches for. As if Sam was just a dream I had, as if she had never existed. And I finally decided that I couldn’t stand the denial. I couldn’t keep pretending anymore.""

Post Paper Hearts Mulder whisks Scully to Martha's Vineyard. She supports him as he processes his memories; and insists they start a relationship when it won't be based in trauma.

@syntax6's (Gossamer, FFN, Omni) Mulder 1998

""He opened his eyes and looked at her over the flames. "They say the ocean has no memory."

She licked her thumb and scanned the paltry breaking surf. "I guess I can see that. The tide comes in, sweeps everything away and washes out again, only to reappear a few hours later. It makes the ocean seem immutable, as though no outside force can change it."

"And change equals memory?"

"Sure. Every memory changes you.""

Pre-Triangle Mulder sells his father's Vineyard house because of the expenses wracked up during FTF. He and Scully share their beach disappointments; and they compare his height to the former scratches on his childhood wall.

Chimerical1975's Regular People

""Grocery shopping with Mulder was something of an experience. It turned out that he was a creature of immense habit with definite likes and dislikes. Since she'd barged in on him, she offered to cook whatever he liked and he put up surprisingly little resistance to the offer. In fact, he revealed that macaroni and cheese was his favorite thing in the world. But only homemade--he had to be close to starving to eat the stuff that came in the blue box. She was amused that such simple comfort food was something he craved, not to mention greatly relieved because it was something that she actually knew how to make. If he'd wanted ratatouille, she would have been in big trouble.""

AU-- TGTSC Scully's California flight was canceled; so she surprises Mulder at the Vineyard where he is cleaning out his father's house. They whack down yard weeds, move each other with respect and admissions on both their parts-- romantically and not living a normal life together-- and conclude their unresolved romantic tensions.

Folieadeux's Cyclone

""Closing the door behind him, he slid off his jacket and laid it on the hall bench.He'd promised himself that he would not take too much time doing this,that he would be quick and efficient, without unnecessary emotions. Just like she'd do it, like she had done it when it had been her turn.

// He sat in the hallway, his back propped against the wall, watching her. It was late spring and the yearly housecleaning was in full force. The scene was misleading in its normalcy. A woman in an apron and a freshly washed house dress ripping sheets from a little girl's twin bed, shaking puffs of dust in the air that floated in the sunshine before disappearing to wherever those particles went. Her jaw was set tight and her face was determined. Only twin paths of tears betrayed her calm exterior.

He kept silent, a skill he was beginning to hone as the weeks wore on and his sister didn't return. Every day the house grew more and more silent while they all pretended. What they were pretending was something he had yet to figure out. //""

Post Closure Mulder somberly packs up the Vineyard, apologizing to the house while battling morbid memories. He always felt he had to protect his mother: the woman who kept travel books but never traveled.

LuvTheBeez’s (mulderscreek) Packing

""Every object, every possession left in the house had been carefully wrapped and packed away only to spend the rest of its days in a dank storage room somewhere. These boxes contained once precious objects that no longer mattered to anyone, all of them things he'd looked at a million times but had never really seen. Things that had been carefully maintained, fastidiously dusted and polished, each holding a memory that was solely hers, that he could not share.""

Post Closure Mulder packs up Tena's house, frustrated that there were no more answers to be found. Scully drops in with comfort food; and both are glad she hadn't listened to his earlier denials and mild mandates.

OKayVal's 155 Words - Santa Claus, North Pole

""Dear Santa, I have been good. Please bring me a talking Crissy doll. And please bring my brother Fox a model rocket so he will be too busy to tease me. Thank you. Love Samantha Mulder.""

Post Closure Mulder soldiers on, cleaning out Tena's house. Samantha's "Dear Santa" letter guts him with guilt.

xraelynn’s (Gossamer) Illumination

""It’s good to see you, Mulder,” she said softly, taking a sip of her coffee. The smile in his eyes dimmed as he looked away.

“I, uh...I didn’t mean to run out of town on you,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed down on his coffee. “I just thought I...needed some time.”

Mulder’s face was smooth and calm now, but for days she hadn’t stopped seeing his expression of devastation and betrayal whenever she looked at him.

It turned out that she had needed some time too.""

Post Closure Mulder invites Scully out to the Vineyard, needing her company while he processes his losses and revelations.

@bohoartist's (Ao3) Unnamed Prompt

""Let me see!” she pleads, reaching for it, but he extends his arm just out of her reach.

“Oh not at all, Scully, this is way too incriminating.”

She sits back and pouts, sticking out her plump bottom lip and looking up at him through her lashes before quickly changing tactics and lunging at him.""  

Post Closure Scully rescues a picture of little toddler Mulder before her partner can destroy all of his family mementos.

Pattie's Sailor Spooky

""Besides, I wouldn't want to spoil your free time away from me."

His heart sank. He sat on the couch. After a long pause he told her the truth. "I just don't want to be alone, okay?"

Scully stopped filling the coffee maker and approached her partner.""

Post Closure Mulder doesn't want to be alone. Scully assures him he doesn't have to prove anything-- including making himself seasick by trying to bond with her.

@o6666666's (Ao3)

Untitled

""Martha’s Vineyard, he’d said, this weekend, and she’s already teased him that he ever thought it might be a hard sell. His Scully is made for the beach. Not least because her body is pink and freckled and cut from stone, but mostly because the ocean recognizes her at once—a Scully, one of its own—and she opens her heart to it like she does to her mother and small children, allowing her wild laugh and squeaky voice and a sort of space-taking that seems fundamentally opposite to the space-taking she does at work, with clipped tones, and where the littler she speaks, the more powerful she seems.

(By contrast: When he woke up this morning she had all the covers, and her arms were spread out like wings across the whole bed. “You cozy?” he’d whispered, sidling closer. She’d tucked him right in with her with a kiss to his nose. And doing the breakfast dishes together, he’d heard it—this dry little fart. She’d turned to him with wide, guilty eyes and he’d rat-tailed her, lightly, with the dish towel and whistled: “Scul-ly!”)""

Post Closure? Mulder takes Scully on a boating trip to the Vineyard-- and she boats, happily, like a crazy person.

Untitled

""Mulder, I can’t sail.”

He grinned. “Sure you can.” He was sure Scully knew the methodology of sailing. Perhaps Scully could sail like she could drive. When she was a little girl she could sail, and when she was six she accidentally hit Captain Scully in the head with the boom.

AU-- S9 Mulder bought Scully a boat for her 40th. The two go sailing while Maggie watches their son.

@scapegrace74-blog/scapegrace74's Pandora's Box

""He’s been at loose ends since his mother passed away, and she draws an invisible line around him, daring anyone else to cross it and touch his tender heart.  There are a million daily reminders of loss: calls from the family attorney, paperwork to sign, a father’s voice rising from a tour group outside the Hoover Building, “don’t wander too far away, Sam!”

So when he asks her to run this simple errand, she leaps at the chance to help."" 

Post Closure Scully finds an engagement ring in Mulder's things; and the two realize their weaknesses-- fear to take it to the next step for fear of guilt-tripping the other-- pale in comparison to their strengths.

@alienbaby-babymama/ABBM515‘s Potential

""Even though it had only been a few weeks since their partnership became an “official” partnership, Dana Scully would never have to be asked twice to spend a weekend by the water.

Mulder had mentioned in passing that he wanted to get his mother’s house prepared for sale. The place was big, required maintenance, and the memories engrained in the walls and floorboards of the house was not something he wanted to deal with. The property deserved love again. He just wasn’t sure he was the one to give it.""

Mulder and Scully-- still not dating post Closure-- sort out how to use Martha's Vineyard: a rental property so they can subsidize their IVF treatments.

@gabby-msr/ScullytoyourMulder/scullytoyourmulder993's

A Love Captured

""That night was special. In high school, I was the kid whose sister had gone missing. I guess it was some kind of curse. I was a bit of a pariah. Even on the baseball team,” he said, and he saw her frown in disapprobation.  

“But that night, it didn’t matter. We stayed on the diamond celebrating well into the night, the team and other people, too. Some people drank. I didn’t, I still had to drive myself home. People congratulated me.”

"I’m glad,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “I’m glad baseball brought you some happiness.”

“It did,” he said, but there was something sad about the way he said it.

“What is it?”

“My parents - they’ve never seen me play,” he admitted."" 

S8 Monica is trying to understand the late Agent Mulder. While snooping through his office, she finds memorabilia from his and Scully's vacation to the Vineyard post-Je Souhaite. Their trip was about him rediscovering and reinvigorating his past-- all of it: Samantha, his parents, Diana, and everything else-- with a newer, fresher start.

FatCat's Scully Pride

""Where's the car your mom rented? What did she get us, a convertible?" I grinned.

"Uh, no, it's not a convertible. It's over there." Scully pointed up the street toward a Toyota Corolla.

"Scully? A Corolla? I can't fit into a car that small comfortably."

"Uh, no, Mulder. Not the Corolla, the... erm... one in front of it."

I looked again and whistled. "A Cadillac Escalade? Your mom rented a Escalade for us?"

"She said something about it being handy to have with so many guests around." She couldn't meet my eyes. I knew she was embarrassed.

"Scully," I leaned down to force her to look at me. "Your mom told me about your Aunt Maeve. It's okay. I had some relatives just like her so I do understand.""

AU-- Mulder offers the Vineyard to Maggie's snobby relatives, good-naturedly hosting their get-together. The love bomb and a proposal is dropped; and Charlie fights Scully over her initial refusal.

WordsSpillFromMyOpenVeins_89's Weekend At Martha's Vineyard

""Less then ten minutes later, William was fast asleep on the floor and snoring with Ishy next to him.

Mulder pat the back of William's head, ran his hand down is back, feeling the rise and fall of his tiny chest.

"Oof. Don't know how much longer I'll be able to do this, bud. You're growing up", Mulder whispered against his floppy auburn hair.

Mulder reached out his right arm, to brace against the wall before taking the last two steps up to the second level of the Hamptons Style Bungalow.

Mulder carried William up to his bedroom, unlaced his converse sneakers and placed them on the floor, at the foot of the bed. Carefully covering William with the Van Gogh Starry Starry Night bedspread and tucking the edges under him, to keep him warm.""

AU-- S9 Mulder, Scully, Will, and their dog all vacation at Martha's Vineyard. While there, Mulder proposes; and all is chummy and famfic-y.

Enjoy!

[morgana-larkin]

May I have a Chessy x reader slow burn then against the wall smut? I'm a sucker for both to be quite honest.

Hi Anon! Thank you for the prompt and I hope I delivered on the slow burn and the smut enough for you! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I got another Chessy prompt yesterday so I'll see if I'm able to finish it before the New Year! Also I didn't specifically describe this about reader but I pictured her being taller than Chessy. I am not taller than Lisa, I'm 5'1, which is why I usually make reader shorter.

A Vineyard Crush

Warnings: Smut, Angst

Words: 9.1K (Enjoy)

You just got hired as a gardener at the Parker’s ranch and Nick Parker himself is giving you a tour of the ranch. 

“So once the grapes are picked then they go down here where they get inspected again and then turned into wine.” Nick says as he shows you the basement. “So that’s the places you’ll need to know for work, any questions?” He asks as you walk back to the field. You’re about to shake your head when you see a woman appear at the front door and you can’t help but stare a bit.

“Who’s that?” You ask and point to her, Nick looks to where you’re pointing.

“Oh that’s Chessy, she’s the live-in nanny that helps me raise my daughter and keeps the house running.

“You have a daughter?” You ask and he nods.

“Ya but she just left for camp yesterday and won’t be back for a month.” He tells you and you nod.

“Ok, when do I start?” You ask him and he smiles.

“Right now.” He says and he calls someone over. A man walks towards you both and looks at Nick. “Kyle, this is Y/n. I just hired her and she needs someone to show her how things are done.” He tells him and Kyle nods before Nick walks to the house.

“Ok, so come with me and I’ll show you everything we have to do.” He tells you and you follow him to the grapes. On your way there, you stare at Chessy again and can’t help but be entranced by her.

The next day you’re checking the grapes while Kyle watches and you see Chessy walk out and you turn slightly to glance at her.

“Do you need a break?” You hear and you snap out of your staring and look at Kyle.

“What?” You ask him.

“Do you need a break? I’m guessing you’re not used to working in the heat all day.” He says and you nod.

“Ya a small break would actually be nice.” You tell him and you go get your water bottle from the cooler. “What do you know about her? I think Nick said her name was Chessy.” You ask him and he looks at her.

“I don’t know much actually. She doesn’t go outside much unless it’s to walk Sammy and she doesn’t talk a lot.” He says.

“Who’s Sammy?”

“Their golden retriever, he’s a sweetheart of a dog.” He tells you. “All I know is she takes care of Hallie, Nick’s daughter, and she’s also the cook and she cleans the house.” He says to you and you look at Chessy. 

The following day you’re picking grapes when you hear barking and then you see Sammy running up to you. He stops in front of you and then you give him a few pets and then you hear someone calling him and you look up to see her running towards you.

“Sammy!” She yells and Sammy ignores her and demands more pets from you. “Sorry about that, he usually doesn’t run up to people like this.” She says to you with a smile and you smile back at her.

“Oh it’s not a problem, he’s so sweet and cute.” You tell her and Sammy wags his tail.

“He’s sweet until he runs to total strangers to get away from the bath.” She jokes and you laugh. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.” She asks you and you nod.

“Ya, it’s only my third day.” You tell her as you stand up straight to look at her.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, I’m Chessy.” She says and holds out a hand to shake, you immediately shake her hand and you feel her incredibly soft hands.

“I’m Y/n. Sorry but your hands are so soft, what’s your skin routine?” You ask and then mentally facepalm for asking a stupid question but then you hear her laugh.

“Well thank you and I actually don’t have any routine other than using body lotion every night before bed.” She says with a smile and you stare at her the entire time until Sammy barks. “Well I gotta get this mister into the bath so he has time to dry off before the sun goes down.” She says and holds on to Sammy’s collar. “I’ll see you around.” She tells you.

“Ya, well I work here so I guess you will.” You joke and she smiles before walking Sammy back into the house.

The two of you didn’t speak again until a week later when you and Kyle were working on a grapevine when you noticed something strange about the bottom of the plant.

“Kyle, does it look like the plant is molding?” You ask him and he quickly goes on his knees to inspect it.

“Go get Nick, he’s in the house.” Kyle tells you and you run to the house. You walk inside as they left the doors open and you see Chessy in the kitchen, cooking something.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” She asks as she sees you.

“Where’s Nick? It’s important.” You ask her.

“NICK!!!” She yells and he jogs into the room a few seconds later.

“What’s up Chessy? Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Can you come with me? I think something is wrong with one of the grapevines.” You tell him and he follows you outside. 

“If it’s molding then we should pull it out and save as much grapes on it as possible.” Kyle tells Nick and he looks at it.

“Yes, you should pull it out and save all the grapes.” Nick says and you and Kyle get to work.

An hour later Chessy comes out and reaches you just as you turn around and bump right into her.

“Oohh! Oh Chessy, I’m sorry.” You tell her and she waves you off.

“It’s no one’s fault, wrong timing is all. I was just wondering if the problem got fixed. The one that you had to get Nick to help solve.” She asks and you smile.

“Oh that, ya. We had to pull one of the vines out as it was dying from the root.” You tell her and she nods. “Did you come just to check on me?” You ask her and she rolls her eyes. 

“No.” She simply says and you tilt your head. “Ok maybe.” She changes her answer to.

“Well I’m flattered, I heard you don’t talk to the workers much.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, have you asked about me?” 

“Of course.” You say to her with a smile.

“I don’t talk much to people because I’m busy.” She tells you as you get back to work.

“And yet you took time out of your busy schedule to come talk to me.” You tell her and smirk.

“Don’t get cocky, I have to go back to work now, but I’ll see you around.” She says softly and you nod.

“You can come out and see me any time during the day.” You tell her and she smiles before she walks back to the house.

The next day she goes to walk Sammy and passes by you. She smiles and waves when she sees you before she continues with the walk. When she finishes the walk, she lets Sammy off the leash and then he starts running back to the house. He ends up taking a slight detour and runs to you. You turn around when you hear him barking and you get on your knees and start petting him. Chessy eventually catches up and walks up to you both.

“What horrible thing were you going to do to him now?” You joke with her and she snorts.

“Nothing this time, I just took him off the leash.” She tells you. “And I guess he ran to his new friend.” She adds and you smile as you continue petting him.

“Well, aren't you sweet?” You say to Sammy and then he runs off. “And I guess he’s had enough.” You say out loud as you stand up. “By the way, did you hear that this publicist is coming to take pictures tomorrow?” You ask her and she nods.

“Ya Nick told me, apparently this girl named Meredith Blake.” She says. “I gotta go finish cleaning the house in case she wants pictures of it as well.” She tells you and you nod before she leaves.

“So you and Chessy are getting along.” Kyle says to you and you turn to look at him.

“I guess.” You tell him and shrug your shoulders.

“I won’t tell anyone about your crush on her.” He says to you and you whip your head towards him.

“I don’t have a crush on her.” You tell him sternly.

“Alright, whatever you say. But you were staring at her as she walked away.” He tells you and then he gets back to work.

The next day a car pulls up and Nick walks out to greet them. You think that it must be the publicist. You see her walk out of the car and you widen your eyes as you see a beautiful young woman step out and greet Nick. You watch them walk around as he gives her a tour and you go back to work. About half an hour later they walk up to where you are and Nick greets you.

“Hey Y/n, this is Meredith Blake, the publicist I told you all about.” He introduces her to you and you nod then shake her hand. You see Nick’s hand is on her back the entire time. “Do you mind if she takes a couple pictures of you working and of the grapes?” He asks you.

“No not at all, go for it.” You tell him and then get back to work. About 10 minutes later they move on to the other areas and you just shake your head at Nick being smitten with her. “If she was my type I might be all over her as well.” You mutter to yourself. “Thankfully she’s not my type.”

“Who is your type then?” You hear behind you and you turn around quickly and see Chessy there with a smile.

“Oh, Chessy. I didn’t even notice or hear you coming.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Sorry to scare you, maybe I’ll wear a bell next time.” She jokes with you and you snort.

“Well that might actually help, that way I’ll know to run away.” You say with a smile and she laughs.

“I saw you met Meredith.” She tells you and you nod. “Apparently they already met a couple times and Nick apparently asked her out and she said yes.” She tells you. “I noticed you eyeing his hand.” She adds on.

“Were you watching me?” You ask her.

“Watching her actually, I want to know what’s going on.” She tells you and you nod. “You didn’t answer my question earlier, what’s your type?” She asks and you slightly blush.

“Oh that’s not important.” You say, trying to not answer the question.

“Come on, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” 

“I’m actually ok not knowing what kind of man catches your eye.” You say as you look at a couple grapes before picking them out and putting them in a basket.

“Man or woman.” She says and you look at her. “I’m attracted to both genders.” She tells you and you stare at her for a couple seconds. 

“I’m attracted to women.” You tell her and she nods. “Attracted to one's a bit older than me and brunettes the most.” You say, keeping it a bit short but then realised you described her.

“Hm, interesting. Well I’m attracted to both genders and it’s not really anything physical that really attracts me, it’s more personality. Like kind, confident and romantic.” She says to you and you nod.

“That’s a good list to have. I wasted a small amount of time on a girl who wasn’t nice.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well you can use my list as a reference then.” She says and then both of you say bye before she leaves to the house.

“I just don’t know what he sees in her.” Chessy tells you a few days later as she holds the basket full of grapes for you.

“Well she’s pretty and good at selling.” You tell her as you place a grape in the basket.

“She’s barely selling the wine.” She says and you look at her.

“I didn’t say it was the wine that she’s good at selling.” You tell her and she snorts. “You seem a bit jealous.” You add and she shakes her head.

“Not jealous, more concerned.” She tells you. “Nick and Hal are family to me, and I don’t think Hal is going to like this.” She says as you place another grape in the basket.

“When is she coming back?” You ask her. 

“In 15 days.” She tells you.

“Well we can’t be too surprised that Nick is dating, he is a single man.” You say to her.

“I guess, it did take him a while to get over his ex-wife.” She says and you hum.

“Well there’s nothing we can do, so how about you focus on keeping the house going until Hallie comes back?” You tell her and she nods.

“Good point, it’s not like anything serious will happen at least until Hal meets her.” She says and you nod.

“Exactly.” You tell her as you put another grape in the basket. She then hands the basket back to you.

“I gotta go make some lunch.” She says and you nod at her.

“Have fun.” You tell her and she smiles before walking to the house.

“I don’t have a crush on her.” You hear Kyle as he imitates you.

“We can be acquaintances.” You tell him.

“She might be acquaintances with you but you got a crush on her.” He says and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t, she’s just an interesting person.” You tell him and then he looks unimpressed and gets back to work.

The next day you have your raincoat on as it’s raining out and then you all hear thunder coming and then see lightning that’s pretty close.

“Come on, we got to take shelter.” Kyle tells you and you grab the basket and then run to cover. 

You, Kyle and a couple others take shelter at the front porch of the house and wait out the storm while others take shelter in the horse shelter.

“Is everyone ok?” You hear and turn to see Chessy there.

“Ya everyone is good, just saw lightning really close by.” You basically shout over the rain and she nods.

The following week she stops by to say hi to you.

“Hey you.” She says softly and you look at her.

“Where’s your bell?” You joke with her and she laughs.

“I knew I forgot something.” She says and you giggle.

“I guess you’re excited about Hallie coming back in 7 days.” You tell her and she nods.

“Yep, but it’s looking serious between Nick and Meredith. I saw them making out the other day by the pool.” 

“Ew.” You say and she laughs.

“It’s even worse if you catch them.” She says and you smile.

“You must be traumatised.” You say dramatically and she laughs again.

“I most definitely am.” 

“So what brings you by? Came to rant again?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“Nope, just came to say hi to my friend as I have some free time.” She tells you and you smile.

“Already at friends?” You ask her shyly and she nods.

“Well we shared our attractions so I think friends is acceptable.” She says and you laugh. 

“It definitely is.” You say as you pull out a couple weeds around one of the grapevines.

For the rest of the week, Chessy comes to talk to you everyday and then on Thursday she comes out running to you.

“Y/n!” She yells and you turn to look at her.

“What is it?” 

“They’re engaged.” She says to you and you look at her confused. “Nick just proposed to Meredith and she said yes.” She tells you and you widen your eyes.

“That’s quick.” You say and she nods.

“Hal doesn’t even know her father is dating someone, and now he’s engaged.” She says. “She’s coming back in 2 days.” She exclaims and you rub her arm to comfort her.

“Just relax, maybe Hallie might like it.” You tell her and she looks at you unimpressed.

“I’m calm, but I know Hal won’t like it.” She tells you. “Are you working on Saturday?” She asks and you nod.

“Ya I work everyday over the summer.” You tell her.

“I might rant to you over the weekend.” She tells you and you nod.

“You can come rant to me anytime.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Thank you.” She says and you smile at her.

The next day you see Chessy frantically getting things ready for Hallie’s arrival, as well as going shopping to pick up everything for meals.

On Saturday morning you see Nick’s car pulling up and you see a ginger haired girl getting out as well as Chessy running out, screaming excitedly and you snort.

“She’s such a dork.” You mutter and then you look to see Kyle looking at you amused. “Still not a crush.” You tell him and he shrugs his shoulders and gets back to work. 

You then hear barking and you see Sammy barking at Hallie and avoiding her. That’s odd. Chessy told you that Sammy adores Hallie.

You then see Hallie go inside and Chessy pets Sammy before following her. You see Meredith walking around in a white dress with a hat on and you shake your head. You wonder when Chessy will come out and rant to you.

You see her coming out about an hour later and you pretend that you don’t see her, to make sure that Kyle sees you don’t have a crush on her.

“Hey Y/n.” She says and you look at her with a smile.

“Hey Chessy, come out to rant already?” You ask her and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Not only is Hal meeting Meredith right now, she also seems different. It seems she changed a lot at camp.” She tells you and you nod.

“Well she’s almost 12, don’t they tend to do that at that age?” You ask her amused and she nods.

“They do but she barely touched the chili I made even though it’s her favourite thing in the world.” She says. “Not to mention that Sammy is avoiding her.” She adds on.

“Ya, I saw that, I did think that was weird.” You tell her and she nods. “Just give it a couple days and I’m sure once she settles in then she’ll be begging you to make that chili again.” You tell her and she smiles.

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” She asks and you blush a little.

“I guess I can be a woman of words.” You tell her and she laughs. The both of you chat a bit until she has to go start on dinner. 

“You guys spend a lot of time together.” Kyle tells you when Chessy is out of ear shot.

“Well we’re friends and we don’t spend a whole lot of time together, I mean we only talk while I work.” You tell him.

“You mean you don’t spend time together outside of working hours?” He asks and you shake your head. “Are you really friends if you don’t spend time together outside of work? It sounds like you’re work friends.” He tells you and you frown.

“Maybe.” You tell him and go on your knees to pull out a weed.

The next day you see Nick and Hallie take off on their horses and then Chessy comes out with Sammy. Sammy remains off leash and he chooses to run up to you.

“Hey Sammy!” You exclaim and go to pet him.

“He definitely likes you. He might have a little crush on you.” Chessy tells you when she catches up.

“I bet he likes everyone.” You tell her.

“Except for Hal, he’s still avoiding her.” She tells you and you look at her. “And she’s still acting strange.” She adds.

“Strange how?” You ask and she sighs.

“She barely touched breakfast, she took a bite out of a piece of toast and then took off. She normally loves to eat a lot at breakfast. She’s also gotten incredibly proper which is unusual and she forgot how to open the door to go outside.” She tells you.

“So she’s acting a bit different, but she’s still Hallie. I mean there’s not someone else who looks exactly like her.” You joke and she looks like she’s thinking about something. “Right?” You ask her and she snaps out of her thoughts and looks at you.

“Right, exactly.” She tells you.

“I’ve got a lot to do today.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“You don’t want to talk with a friend like we did yesterday?” She asks and she tilts her head.

“Well work friends don’t always talk to each other for an hour or two everyday.” You tell her and she frowns.

“Work friends?” She asks.

“Ya, I mean we only talk to each other while at work. Isn’t that work friends?”

“Oh, right, I guess so.” She tells you with disappointment in her voice.

“Everything alright?” You ask her and she smiles and nods.

“Yep, just remembered something I have to do.” She tells you and heads inside, and Sammy follows her. You get back to work and you see Kyle looking at you strangely.

Chessy heads inside and finishes cleaning the kitchen before she gets her glasses out and goes to read in the chair. Her mind goes to wander to you and you saying that her and you are just work friends and that kinda stung. She thought you two were real friends but then thinks you have a point, you don’t hang out outside of work. That didn’t stop her from developing a crush on you though. She’s suddenly snapped out of her thoughts when Hallie barges in all anxious.

Chessy is in the kitchen 30 minutes later making food for Annie when she catches sight of you working on the grapes. She looks out of the window just to watch you working and gets lost in thought. She doesn’t know how much time has passed when Annie walks into the kitchen. 

“What are you staring at?” She asks Chessy and Chessy slightly jumps and turns around.

“Nothing! Nobody.” She says and Annie looks unconvinced.

“You were staring at someone?” She asks and Chessy shakes her head.

“Of course not, why would you ask that?” Chessy says with a slight blush and Annie smiles.

“Well I just came to tell you that Hallie is telling our mother tomorrow morning and then we’re going to be switched back.” She tells Chessy.

“Well I guess that’s what’s bound to happen when you switch places with your secret twin.” Chessy tells her amused and Annie laughs.

“Why didn’t they tell us that we’re a twin? I mean you knew.” Annie asks her and Chessy looks at a lost for words.

10 minutes later you’re on a ladder getting some grapes up top while Kyle is holding on. 

“Hey Y/n.” Chessy tells you and you look down and see Chessy and Hallie there.

“Hey Chessy, just a moment.” You tell her.

“Kyle, none of these grapes are ready.” You tell him.

“I guess they’re growing slower on this one. We’ll just check again tomorrow.” He tells you and you nod then get down. Kyle takes the ladder and walks away to put it away.

“So Chessy, what’s up.” You ask her as you take your gloves off.

“Well I wanted to introduce you to someone.” She says.

“Oh, well hello Hallie.” You tell her and shake her hand. “Chessy has told me quite a bit about you.” 

“Well actually this isn’t Hallie.” Chessy says and Annie looks at her in shock. “You can trust her.” Chessy says and you look confused.

“I’m actually Annie, Hallie’s twin.” Annie says with her British accent and you look at Chessy and she confirms with a nod. 

“Well it’s nice to meet you Annie, and I see you’re from the UK.” You tell her and she nods.

“From London. Chessy wanted me to meet you before I get switched back with Hallie.” She says and you nod. 

The 3 of you talk for a little bit before Annie and Chessy had to go back inside to eat and you had to get ready to leave.

The next day Chessy comes up to you and takes a breath before speaking.

“We’re all leaving tomorrow morning to go to the Stafford hotel.” She tells you and you look at her.

“Well hello to you too.” You tell her with a smile and she chuckles.

“Hey Y/n, we’re switching the twins back as Hallie told their mom.” She tells you and you nod.

“Well at least you’ll get to see Hallie again.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Ya, but I’m going to miss Annie. I saw both of them when they came home from the hospital and then a year later Elizabeth takes off with Annie.” She tells you and you grab her hand.

“I’m sure it’ll all work out as the twins will want to see each other again as well as see their parents again.” You tell her and Chessy looks at your hand in hers and nods.

“You’re right, I’m excited to see Hal again and I’ll see Annie again.” She says and you smile at her before you let go of her hand.

“How long are you going to be gone for?” You ask her. 

“Nick reserved a couple bedrooms for a couple nights.” She tells you and you nod.

“Well I’ll see you when you get back, and I can’t wait to meet Hallie.” You tell her and she smiles at you before she goes to pack. 

You do your work for a couple days and then you see them come back home, only this time there’s 2 cars coming back. You watch as 2 ginger-haired girls get out of the car, as well as Nick, Chessy, Meredith and Sammy, as well as a couple other people you don’t know. 

You watch Chessy for the whole day and see her and this guy being really close with each other. You feel a sting in your heart at seeing them spending time together and being all giggles. You start feeling jealousy at seeing her with someone else and you work and mope until Chessy walks over to you.

“Y/n!” She exclaims as she comes over with that guy and the twins. “I wanted to introduce you to the twins and also Martin. We don’t know which one is which as they won’t tell us. And Martin is Elizabeth and Annie’s butler.” She tells you with a smile.

“Well nice to meet you Martin and Hallie.” You say and look directly at her.

“How’d you know which one was who?” Hallie exclaims and you smile.

“You just told me.” You say and they pout before you hear Chessy giggle. Martin then gets called by Elizabeth and he goes to help her.

“Isn’t he great?” Chessy asks you and the twins look at her and then at you.

“I don’t know him.” You tell her, harsher than you thought and she looks at you confused due to her tone.

“Well him and I are going on a picnic date tomorrow while everyone else is away camping.” She says and you go back to picking grapes.

“Cool.” You say, completely uninterested in the conversation. The twins look between the two of you before looking at each other and then leaving. Chessy watches them leave and then steps closer to you.

“Are you ok? Did something happen while we were away?” She asks with concern and puts her hand on your shoulder but you shrug her off.

“I’m fine, I just have work to do, as you can see.” You tell her with a snap to your voice and she looks at you surprised.

“If something is bothering you then you know you can tell me.” She says and you look at her without any emotion.

“Why would I tell you? We’re just work friends, remember?” You say and she nods.

“I guess you just need some space right now, I’ll leave you be.” She tells you and walks away.

You let out a breath when she’s out of earshot and Kyle comes up to you.

“Still denying that you have feelings for her?” He asks and you glare at him before you soften your features.

“I know I like her, but she obviously likes that Martin guy instead of me.” 

“So what are you going to do? You can brush her off like that everytime she comes to talk to you.” He tells you and you sigh.

“I can’t talk to her without being jealous about her and Martin.” You tell him.

“So you are going to brush her off every time?” He asks and you nod. “Doesn’t she come to talk to you a few times per week?” He asks you and you nod.

“I have to start distancing myself as I have a major crush on her. At this point it’s not even a crush, I have feelings for her, real feelings for her.” You tell him and he rubs your back before going back to work. 

“So your plan is to get her to not like you anymore?” He asks and you nod.

“It’ll make her stop coming to talk to me.” You say and then you go back to work.

You watch Chessy and Martin kiss under an umbrella as Annie, Elizabeth and Martin head back to London. It’s been 2 days since you started distancing yourself from Chessy and you still feel a sting in your heart at her spending a lot of time with Martin, especially since you heard that she spent a whole day and a night with him. 

The next day you see Chessy walking around the yard with Sammy and then Sammy runs up to you and demands pets from you. You couldn’t keep yourself from ignoring him as he’s too sweet and cute, so you obviously start petting him.

“So you refuse to spend time with me but not him?” Chessy asks as she comes up to you both.

“Didn’t think you’d notice?” You tell her and she looks at you confused. “You were spending every minute with Martin.” You tell her and she frowns.

“Yes but he’s back in London now.” She tells you.

“And didn’t Nick and Hallie not go after them?” You ask her and she nods. “So he’s going to come back and you’ll be able to spend all the time you want with him.” You snap at her.

“What’s been going on with you lately? Ever since we came back from San Francisco, you’ve been acting different.” She says and you roll your eyes. You go to walk to a different grapevine but she grabs your wrist. “Y/n, please talk to me.” She says and you glare at her.

“Why do you care if I talk to you or not?” You ask her and she looks hurt by your words. Before she speaks again, Kyle comes up to you both and looks at Chessy.

“Sorry to interrupt but I need Y/n’s help with something.” He says and Chessy lets go of you.

“Of course, I’ll talk to you later then Y/n.” She says to you and you watch her walk away and then turn to Kyle.

“Thank you.” You tell him after taking a breath.

“You’re welcome. But I can’t save you all the time, you should come up with an excuse as to why you don’t want to see her ever again or tell her the truth.” He tells you and you sigh.

“Obviously I’m gonna lie, I just have to come up with a reason why.” You tell him. 

“I don’t understand why you never told her that you have feelings for her.”

“Because I’m not her type.” You tell him.

“What did she say her type was again?”

“Kind, confident and romantic.” You say and he looks at you.

“So you don’t want to be nice to her anymore cause that would just turn her off?”

“I was never trying to turn her on, and besides she has Martin now.” You tell him. “And he seems like her type.” You say, unknown to you, Chessy was watching you and Kyle talk from a window inside the house.

Chessy takes a deep breath and places her hands on the counter to steady herself. She likes Martin but she also likes you. She thinks how Martin is her type, he’s nice to her, he’s confident with what he wants and he took her out on a romantic picnic. But during the picnic she remembers thinking about you. But you seem to be pushing her away and she doesn’t know why. 

She would rather be with you as she likes you more, but you have no romantic interest in her, and it seems that you have no platonic interest in her anymore as well. She slumps down on the ground and Sammy walks up and sits next to her, providing comfort. If you want nothing to do with her then she’ll just have to respect your wishes and stay away, besides she has Martin now and there’s a good chance he’s coming back.

A couple days later you see Nick and Hallie pull up and get out of the car with smiles on their faces, and you’re guessing that it’s all going to work out for them.

Nick and Hallie tell Chessy that the whole James household is moving in with them, including Martin. She’s excited at first but then it sinks in for her that Martin is going to be around the entire time and each day she stares at you from a window. 

A week later the James household and Martin come to the ranch with some essentials before the rest of their stuff comes from London.

The whole first week of them being there, you try to ignore Chessy and Martin being close to each other. Chessy hasn’t tried to talk to you since you snapped at her and you can’t blame her. 

The day after the first week of everyone moving in, you come to the ranch and Hallie and Annie come up to you.

“What can I do for you two?” You ask them.

“Why are you and Chessy not talking to each other?” Annie asks you and you look at her.

“We were acquaintances but we’re not anymore.” You simply tell her.

“But why?” She pushes and you sigh.

“The reason doesn’t matter.” You tell her as you get back to work.

“Is it because of Martin? You snapped at her when she introduced you to Martin.” She asks and you got to give her credit for catching on to that.

“What would anything have to do with him?” You ask her.

“Because you like her.” Hallie simply says and you wipe your head at them.

“Is there a reason for this questioning?” You ask them as calmly as possible.

“Chessy likes you as well.” Annie says and Hallie agrees.

“And why would you say that?” You ask them.

“Because when I was here, she spent a lot of time with you, spoke highly of you and I caught her staring out the window at you.” Annie says and you sigh.

“I still don’t see the reason for you two talking to me.” 

“Well don’t you see? You like her and she likes you, you should be together.” Hallie says.

“Annie, have you forgotten that your butler is with her?” You ask her and she thinks about that for a moment.

“We can break them up.” Annie says.

“No, I’m not going to ruin a happy relationship because of feelings that Chessy might have had for me at some point.” 

“She still likes you.” Hallie says and you look at them. “We see her staring out the window every day. The window that just so happens to be in the spot to see you perfectly.” She adds and you go back to work.

“Annie and Hallie, I’m only going to say this once. Chessy is happy with Martin and her and I are no longer acquaintances or friends or whatever we were. So please just drop it, ok?” You tell them and they look at you.

“If we dropped it with our parents then they wouldn’t be together.” Annie says and Hallie nods.

“Chessy and I aren’t your parents.” You tell them and then they seem to get an idea and run away.

Back at the house, Chessy is sitting on the living room couch with Martin when the twins walk in.

“Chessy, can we talk to you?” Hallie says as they go up to her.

“What’s up Hal?” She asks and then they take her hands and drag her up to their room. “Guys, what is going on?” She asks them once they close the door.

“It’s about Y/n.” Hallie says.

“What about Y/n? Is she ok?” Chessy asks.

“Physically yes, emotionally not so much.” Annie says and Hallie nods.

“What?” 

“Why aren’t you two friends anymore?” Annie asks. “When I was here, you spoke highly of her and a lot.” 

“Well Y/n didn’t want me in her life anymore.” Chessy tells them honestly. “I tried talking to her and she snapped at me twice. That’s what happened.” 

“But why did she snap at you?” Hallie asks.

“I don’t know, you’d have to ask her.” 

“We did, she didn’t give us a direct answer but we have a good idea why.” Annie says and Chessy looks at them in confusion.

“And why do you think Y/n snapped at me?” Chessy asks them.

“Because she likes you, as in, has feelings for you.” Hallie tells her and Chessy looks at them, at a lost for words.

“Did she specifically tell you that?” She asks them carefully.

“No, but she didn’t deny it.” Hallie says.

“She started snapping at you after you introduced her to Martin, Chessy she was jealous.” Annie says to her.

“We’ve been talking all summer, she never said anything.” Chessy says.

“We don’t know the reason for that, but she could be scared.” Hallie says.

“Why are you telling me this?” Chessy asks them.

“Because you deserve to know, we know you have feelings for her.” Annie says.

“But I’m with Martin now.” Chessy says.

“Well it all depends on who you’d rather be with.” Hallie tells her. 

“You can stay with Martin or you can tell Y/n the truth.” Annie adds. 

Chessy is looking out the window at you working and Martin comes up to her.

“Why do you stare out that window everyday?” He asks her and she turns around.

“No important reason.” She says and he looks out of it.

“Oh, I can see the vineyard from here, I guess it’s a nice view.” He says. “Oh and there’s your friend Y/n.” He says to her.

“She’s not my friend anymore.” She says to him.

“Why not?” 

“Because she doesn’t want me in her life anymore.”

“Did she say why?” 

“No, she didn’t, and it hurts.” She says and Martin hugs her.

“Why don’t we go ask her together? Demand an answer from her.” 

“I don’t think she’ll say anything with you there, it took a while before she started opening up to me.” Chessy tells him.

“It’s that why you look out the window everyday? Cause you’re looking at Y/n.” Martin asks and Chessy nods. “Are you staring at her because you’re longing to be her friend or for a different reason?” Martin asks and Chessy looks at him.

“Different reason.” She tells him and Martin looks disappointed before looking at her.

“Is the reason that you’d rather be with her?” He asks and she nods. “I understand.” He says and goes to walk away. “You can’t choose who to love, the heart chooses for you, no matter what.” He says and a few tears fall down Chessy’s face.

“You’re really sweet and romantic but I can’t stop thinking about her.” Chessy says and Martin nods.

“Then you should go tell her.” Martin says and Chessy nods before leaving.

You see Chessy walking out and then walking towards you but you pretend that you don’t see her. You notice her coming closer to you and you start to walk away but she catches up with you and she grabs your wrist.

“Come with me.” She says sternly and you look at her.

“I’m working.” You tell her and you see a fire in her eyes.

“Nick won’t care, come with me.” She says and you let her pull you away. She pulls you until you’re alone in the garden and you look at her in confusion.

“What’s all this about? I thought we weren’t talking to each other anymore.” You say to her.

“Did you get jealous?” She asks you and you look at her.

“What?”

“The reason you snapped at me, is it because I was with Martin and you were jealous?” She asks you and you widen your eyes.

“Of course I’m not jealous.” You tell her but she grabs your shoulders.

“You’re lying.” She tells you plainly and you look at her in shock. “Martin and I aren’t together anymore.” She tells you.

“Why?” You ask her and she softens her features.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.” She says and you widen your eyes.

“What?”

“I look out a window where I can see you perfectly everyday, when I’m talking to Martin or kissing him then I think about you when I shouldn’t be. I think about you constantly throughout the day. Y/n, I like Martin, he’s nice.” She says and takes a deep breath before speaking again but you interrupt her.

“Then go be with him and leave me alone.” You say and try to walk away but she grabs your arm and looks at you.

“I like him but I’m falling for you.” She says and you stop breathing for a second. “I want to be with you.” She adds.

“Is this some sort of trick? Payback for snapping at you?” You ask her and she shakes her head. 

“You snapping at me broke my heart. When you asked me why I care about you, it broke me.” She tells you and you stare at her. You then lunge forward and kiss her, Chessy is shocked by the suddenness but then kisses you back immediately. You pull away once you realise what you did and you stare at her in shock.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start to say but she cuts you off by pulling you back into a kiss.

“Don’t apologise, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a month now.” She tells you after pulling back.

“But you’re with Martin.” You tell her and she shakes her head.

“He figured out that I liked you and I told him I’d rather be with you.” She says. “But I need to know if you want to be with me.” She says. “I know you kissed me but I need words.” She adds and you smile.

“I do want to be with you, I didn’t tell you because I thought you didn’t like me that way and then you got with Martin.” You tell her and she smiles. “I did get jealous, I’m sorry I snapped at you.” You say to her and she strokes your cheek.

“I forgave you for that pretty much right after you snapped at me. I just wanted you to talk to me but I stayed away as I thought you wanted me out of your life.” 

“I did, but only because I didn’t want to have to fake a smile every time you talk to me about Martin.” You tell her and she runs her fingers through your hair.

“Well you don’t have to worry about him, I’m not with him anymore.” She says softly.

“When did you break up with him? The twins talked to me today and it seemed like you were still with him.” You ask her.

“We broke up right before I came to talk to you.” She says and you tilt your head.

“I hope I’m not some rebound.” 

“You’re not, you’re the one I’d rather be with.” She says and you lean into her touch. “You know the twins came to talk to me earlier as well. Told me that you have feelings for me, I almost couldn’t believe it.” She says and you hum.

“They just love setting people up don’t they?” You ask her and she laughs.

“I guess so, first their parents and now us.” She says and you nod. “I’m gonna get them such a great birthday gift for their meddling.” She tells you and you laugh.

“I have one question for you.” You tell her and she looks at you and nods. “Did you sleep with Martin?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“No, I was going to but I couldn’t because I thought about you instead of him.” 

“Hmm, you must have a lot of pent up sexual energy then.” You tell her as you wrap your arms around her.

“Yes and you’re just feeding into it right now.” She tells you and you smile. “Do you live alone?” She asks and you nod.

“Well how about I tell them I’m going out for the night and you take me home with you after you’re done work? I’ll even bring supper for us to have.” She says and you smile.

“Sounds good.” You tell her and you squeeze her ass before walking away.

“You’ll pay for that later.” She tells you and you turn around to face her.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You tell her and you wink at her before you continue walking away.

“So did you talk to her?” Hallie asks Chessy as she makes supper.

“I did.” Chessy says and then they look at her.

“And?” Annie asks.

“Well thanks to you two meddlers, she and I talked and she kissed me after I confessed.” She tells them and they smile.

“So you two are together now?” Hallie asks and Chessy nods.

“She’s bringing me to her place after she’s done work.” She tells them. “I already told Nick that I’ll be gone for the night.” 

“Well good, it’s about time. Ever since you introduced me to her I saw sparks.” Annie says to her.

“Well you’ll be getting a really nice birthday gift this year.

“And that’s in 6 weeks.” Hallie says and Annie smiles.

“Yep, October 11.” Chessy says to them and then continues making supper. 

After you’re done work, Chessy walks out with a container in her hand and meets you at your car.

“Hey you.” Chessy says and kisses you.

“Ready to go?” You ask her and she nods.

You drive to your place and then you go and unlocks the door and she follows you inside.

“Nice place.” She says.

“It’s not much but it’s home.” You tell her and she smiles.

“I think it’s perfect.” She says and then goes to the kitchen and places the food on plates before handing you one.

“Thank you.” You tell her and then you go to the kitchen table with her. “Why did we never hang out outside of work?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“Didn’t think you’d want to.” She says and you tilt your head at her. “Especially after that work friends comment you made.” She says and you frown.

“That was me wanting to hang out with you outside of work.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well we are now so quit complaining.” She says and you give a salute.

“Yes ma’am.” You say and she snorts. 

You put the dishes in the sink after you’re both done and as soon as you turn around she kisses you. 

“And what were you wanting to do?” You ask her and she hums.

“Well we can kiss, talk or something more than kissing.” She says and you stare at her.

“You mean sex?” You ask her and she nods. “I lost count over how many times I’ve masturbated while thinking about you.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Same.” She tells you and you smile. 

“My bedroom is just down the hall.” You tell her and then bring her there. She closes the door and then you trap her between the door and you. You immediately kiss her and place your hands on her waist to bring her closer to you. You trail down to her neck and she moves her head to give you more space and you start sucking. She gasps as you leave hickeys all over her neck and you feel her legs give way so you hoist her up and lean her on the wall while her legs are wrapped around your waist. You then take her shirt off and you stare at the sight of her breasts in the bra. “I knew you had a bigger chest but wow.” You tell her and she smiles.

“There's a lot to suck on and touch.” She tells you and you reach behind her and unclip her bra. You throw it across the room and immediately attach your mouth to a nipple. She moans out as soon as you attach your mouth and she puts her hands in your hair and tugs slightly. You switch to her other nipple and you trail your hand down and undo her khakis. You get her off of you and then you immediately take her pants and underwear off. You go to kiss her again but she stops you and then she takes your shirt off. “If I’m completely naked then you have to be as well.” She says as she takes off all of your clothes. 

You go on your knees and then quickly find her clit with your tongue and you start sucking and licking. Chessy places her hand on the wall, while placing her other hand in your hand and closes her eyes and has her mouth open.

“Oh god, I forgot how good women are with their mouths.” She says and you smirk. She then yanks your hair to push your mouth off of her and she gets you on your feet. “I don’t want a mouth on me though, I want fingers inside of me. I want to feel you inside of me until I come around your fingers.” She says and you push her up against the wall while she wraps her legs around your waist. You then make sure her entrance is nice and wet before pushing a finger in and she gasps. “Insert another one.” She tells you once you start pumping and you then quickly insert a second finger and it slides in easily.

“You’re so wet Chess.” You tell her and she whimpers. “Is this what you imagined me doing to you?” You ask her and her eyes are shut again. She nods quickly and you smirk. You continue pumping in and out her and you pick up the pace when you feel her legs around you start to shake. “Are you close Chess?” You ask her and she nods again. Moans and gasps are spilling out of her mouth and you just love getting these sounds out of her. “Take your time and come when you need to.” You tell her and you feel her body tense up and she squeezes around your fingers before she comes with a gasp. 

You bring her over to your bed and cuddle her as she calms down and then she turns to you with a smile. “My god, you’re good with your tongue and your fingers.” She says with a chuckle and you smile.

“Women know what feels good on other women as they have the same body.” You tell her and she hums. She then reaches over and easily finds your clit and begins rubbing it. You buck your hips and gasp and she smirks at your actions.

“Something specific you want? Tongue or fingers?” She asks you. 

“Please stick your fingers inside of me, as well as get on top of me so I can feel your boobs on me.” You manage to get out and she giggles but does as you ask. She gets on top of you and then inserts two fingers inside of you and you moan out. It doesn’t take long until your whole body tenses and then you come on her fingers. She takes her fingers out of you, licks your juices off of her and moans at your taste. 

“Next time I’m gonna use my tongue on you if you taste this sweet.” She says with a smile and you chuckle.

The next morning you bring her to the ranch and she brings you into the kitchen with her and immediately goes to kiss you. You two make out in the kitchen until you hear someone clear their throat. She pushes you off of her and you both turn to see everyone watching you. The twins run outside with Martin and Elizabeth speaks up first.

“Have a nice night?” She asks you both.

“Yep.” Chessy says and lays her head on your chest.

“It looks like it, might want to cover up your hickeys.” Elizabeth says and Chessy looks at you.

“How many did you leave on me?” She asks you and you shrug your shoulders.

“Do you want me to count?” You ask her with a smile and she slaps your head playfully.

“Come on, since you put them on me then you’re gonna help me cover them up.” She tells you as she drags you to her room.

“So you’re not bringing me to your room to make more?” You ask her and she rolls her eyes.

“I hate you.” She tells you and you laugh.

“That’s not what you said last night.”

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[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER EIGHT: VEAL

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink, implied child abuse, self harm

This is chronologically the eighth chapter in the series. Apologies for the reupload, the first was the incorrect version.

---

You lie in Hannibal’s bed like a bird fallen dead through a window, the back of your hand across your brow, to its fevered heat. The muted rush of the shower sifts under the bathroom door, or perhaps it is only the rain, or both at once, a sonic symmetry.

You feel something of yourself washed away in it, a dune left dry in your defeat. Almost in apathy you turn on your side, thighs closed over the moisture between.

Hannibal returns to the bed in pyjama bottoms, his hair damp, and smelling expensively clean. Rather than meet his eyes, you look at the pictures over the bed— Japanese woodblock prints, you think, the figures rendered indistinguishable by the hearth-lit dark.

“Why did you break into my house?” you ask, as Dr Lecter climbs in under the sheets, beside you.

“I curate all things in my life with ambition to procure their highest quality,” he says. “Frequently this entails a thorough knowledge and familiarity with their origins. I had to be quite certain of yours before I began our therapy.”

You envision him, in the market of life, touching your name in the letter your parents had sent to him for the synaesthesic taste of you.

“Like going to a vineyard to look at the grapes,” you say.

Hannibal smiles, charmed by the observation.

“Quite so. I believe you would make a most excellent wine.”

“Spit me out,” you mutter. “Pour me away. I’ll spoil.”

“Or age into magnificence. You dismiss your latent potential.”

You feel one of Hannibal’s deft hands tracing your back as comfortably as a paramour of ten years’ intimacy, a subtle exertion of dominance. Each stroke is a statement: I am king here, and you will kneel with your lips to my shoe.

You shrug from his touch, carving a gully of mattress between you.

“What makes what you’re doing to me any different from the Silicone Lover?” you ask. “To me, you’re one and the same. What makes you any better than he is?”

There is a practised caution as Hannibal answers.

“An elevated craftsmanship. There is little artistry in his dolls.”

The weather makes an ocarina of the windowpane, so like a scream as to be a cipher of dread.

“You’d murdered people, haven’t you?” you ask, softly. “I can feel it.”

Silence, then, densely impenetrable. You dare not glance over your shoulder, nor take even a breath in the certainty that you have smelled death on this man like a fox.

“You are tired, little one,” says Hannibal. “Go to sleep.”

He speaks almost blandly, the deflection more terrible than an answer.

“You’re not going to... do it with me again?” you ask.

Hannibal looks up at you from his pillow, his eyes a gelid null. To prise his face, lid-like, from its cistern of penumbra— you would give your heart to do it, eager to part with so useless an object in the trade.

“In the morning, perhaps,” says Dr Lecter. “Not now. Rest.”

As though by the conjuration of some fell magician you do, lying as far from the man as you’re able without tumbling from the edge of the bed.

You dream again of the forest, dirt-drowned and blood-mired in the October deep. The stag-horned man has his spade to your throat, one foot on the blade; only a second figure, a streak of night, coaxes the digger from his mortal blow.

“No,” he says, in Will Graham’s voice. “I want to keep her.”

The nightmare closes on the stag-man’s answer.

“Then, for your sake, she lives tonight.”

*

The light is the blue of Neptune’s morning as you choke awake in Hannibal’s room. Your dream hangs upon you like a mantle of lead. You wait for it to lift, and it doesn’t, for the stag lies beside you, his face made gentle by sleep.

As you lean over to extract yourself from the quilt his hands are at your wrists with an oily quickness, holding them above your head against the pillows. Fear thickens your throat, stoppering the cartilage of all ensuing sound— yet Hannibal is smiling, as he peers down at you, quite playful, a laddish glee about him.

“It’s early,” he says. “Are you so eager to leave my bed already?”

“Yes,” you say. “Obviously.”

Dr Lecter draws back the sheet to look at your body, a hand following his gaze until you are wet around his fore and middle fingers.

“Not so obvious. You welcome me.”

The head of his cock meets its slick mark, and you pull at the fist that restrains you, shamed and flushing against your delicacy in his arms.

You’re as supple as leather against him, the slow wax of his cock in your channel unfairly pleasant.

“I don’t want it,” you whimper even as you ache to ribbon your legs about his hips to lead him in. “Dr Lecter—”

He takes your jaw in his hand, the cup of his thumb against your windpipe recalling his deathly potentiality. You feel his pulse through it, and wonder that such a man can be alive, is not merely a vampiric creature stepped from some crumbled ruin, bloodless, wanting.

“Are you going to murder me, one day?” you ask him, in a child’s plaintive whimper. “If you do, don’t just throw my body away, like the Lover. Send me home to my family. Say it was my fault. An accident. Just let them bury me.”

Hannibal releases your throat, opening his hand, instead, against your heart as though he may rejoin its broken halves with its warmth, a soft, red, clay.

“You must trust that your life is precious to me,” he tells you. “It becomes more so with each day that you are here.”

Were you free of him you’d recoil, but now can only wince and utter your rejection of what is surely a saccharine lie.

Hannibal’s grip tightens on your wrist, and as he thrusts into you again you shut your eyes against the Lyrid shower of orgasm. You sense him leaning over you, pleased that you’re fawning when you could fight.

The Silicone Lover’s victims didn’t resist, and they died for it, floating, forgotten, through the lichenous entrails of the riverbed. You think of your dream, relieved from your grave by the man that first fucked you, and you realise yourself on the cusp of some epiphany, though its nature eludes you in the midst of ministrations.

A telephone rings, shrill in the sapphire room.

Dr Lecter presses an apologetic kiss to your brow and withdraws, still hard, pulling his pyjama shirt around him.

“Excuse me, my dear.”

He picks up the telephone receiver and leaves the room with it, noiseless as a spectre on bare feet.

You lie, prone, hearing your heart thump against your temporal membrane in a tinnitus that returns in times of particular agitation. As a child you’d imagined it as boot steps along some grimy underpass, the approach of some villain without a face you now know to have come.

Hannibal reappears, his expression guarded.

“It seems we are to receive another visitor today. My colleague, Alana Bloom, would like to speak to you.”

You climb out of bed, sucking a breath through your teeth at the cold.

“Really?” you ask. “How come?”

“Jack’s taken a liking to you. He has asked Alana to act as a neutral third party throughout your treatment.”

Though as cordial as ever, you discern a particular coolness to Hannibal’s tone you take as disapproval.

“You know I didn’t really tell Jack anything, right?” you ask, following Hannibal into the bathroom. “He doesn’t know what you’ve done to me. He has no idea.”

“No,” says Hannibal, taking his toothbrush from a cabinet by the sink. “But you’ve given him cause to believe you’d fare better in a specialised unit, amongst your peers. That’s not the impression you’ve given me.”

You think of the competition of inpatient treatment, amongst the women, the ferocity with which you’d starve yourself to shame their ranks with your commitment.

“My doctors used to threaten to send me to Forest Ranch or Six Stream,” you say. “They were like bogeymen for me. Now I... I don’t know. I heard they don’t let you out until you’re weight restored.”

Dr Lecter watches you plucking at your body in the mirror, an unconscious motion you withdraw from as you catch his eye.

“That’s not what I seek to accomplish,” he says. “It would be a predictable outcome in which relapse would be imminent. Here, I only expect flexibility from you, an open mind. Belief in my guidance.”

He pauses to brush his teeth, even this menial act carried out with a dignified grace.

“But Dr Lecter,” you protest. “If someone did what you’ve done here to Will, you’d want him to try and get away, right? You can’t be mad at me for trying.”

Hannibal spits into the sink, and it occurs to you that you’ve witnessed something quite intimate, an act unimaginable of such a sophisticated man.

“Any action that threatens my liberty to act and live as I please will be penalised,” he says. “I value my freedom above all things.”

Except Will, you think.

Aloud, you say, “I value my freedom, too.”

Reaching politely across you to the hand towel, Hannibal comments, “Yet it is hunger you kneel to as your God.”

Stung, you sit down hard on the rim of the bath.

“What would you have me worship instead?” you demand. “You?”

“A dangerous question. Priestesses in many cultures have been known to abstain from sustenance in servitude to higher powers. Likewise, some saints historically starved themselves to imitate the suffering of Christ, or else to demonstrate a miracle.”

Hannibal touches your chin, smoothing its obstinate edge.

“Were you to survive on manna alone would you think yourself relieved of what crosses you bear? Or is it that in evading sustenance you are purifying yourself in order to be worthy of an immaculate God?”

There is something in his words you relate to, though you’d lie on a bed of nails before expressing this to Hannibal Lecter.

“Come downstairs,” he says, into your silence. “I’ll make breakfast. Don’t misbehave, when Alana arrives. I wouldn’t want to be ashamed of you.”

*

There is something in the avocado toast, or else the accompanying orange juice, a medicinal venom. You think of past nights you’d drank yourself into a mirage of vertigo, each ending, moaning, on a bathroom floor as though the liquor had changed you back to the child you’d been in Jekyllian fashion.

You are like that now, gawky and uncoordinated, walking flat-footed in Hannibal’s wake as he makes order of the living room in preparation for Alana’s arrival.

Overfull, you wear your body like an ill-fitting dress, its clinging garments a mile from the outsize sweaters you yourself would have chosen. Shapeless, smothering, warm were your selections, in swatches of Nyx, lacquered nails and canvas shoes to match.

The colour of your dress is of suitable darkness, if not the style of it. Your teenage years remain indelible upon your sense of taste, time seeming to have broken down like an ancient engine in the decade your starving manifesto began.

Today you feel even younger still, a state contrived by Dr Lecter to tighten his control upon you in company, and make an obedient daughter of his embittered victim.

With scarce hope of turning any friend of Hannibal’s against him, you conform to his rigid will. Curling up with your head on the arm of the sofa, you count out seconds into minutes, another childhood habit.

Hannibal turns to you, appraising your ennui with a dry amusement.

“You’ll like Alana, my darling,” he says. “Just as you liked Jack.”

“Would they like you if they knew what kind of man you are, Dad?” you ask, cuttingly.

“They would not. That is why there are many faces I wear, and with them I choose only the most pleasant mask.”

Dr Lecter glances at another of his favoured woodblock prints on the wall, a depiction of kabuki actors in varying guises, and you see with a cold vein of shock that he has, across the house, hung up his soul for all to see, if only they knew it.

“You, too, take pains to manufacture appearance,” says Hannibal. “You play the part of the embittered introvert well, but there is a quarter of darkness, even a malice that is beginning to ascend the oubliette you have built to keep it in.”

Snorting, you shove your face under one arm.

“Wonder why.”

“I saw it in my office. It long precedes Will and I.”

There comes a jaunty little knock on the front door, the sound of a guest entering the foyer.

Dr Lecter smooths his manner into one of welcoming warmth, an alarming opposition to the man that fucked and restrained you to the tragedy of climax but two hours past.

Footsteps tread lightly through the house, with the click of low-heeled boots.

Alana Bloom appears, her hair smoke dark, her narrow eyes the blue of an enchantment, and of Hannibal’s room. Something of winter, in her beauty, pale skin whiter still against a suit of fitted darkness.

As with all women you meet, you analyse Alana, helplessly, finding her slim in the way that suggests health, but not restriction; you would know it at once from the shape of the bones in her hand or shoulder blade, a bloodlessness of the lips, a slow death in her gaze, the fairy-tale of hunger.

Some disorders of eating are invisible even to your eye, of course, thinness being no requirement for the trickster king of starving, but it is one guise it wears, when close to the edge, and the most familiar. Alana, however, is rosy with an undeniable vigour, having the face of a woman that adds sugar, unthinking, to her coffee, and enjoys a beer after a long afternoon.

She is the unachievable: beautiful, and well. You are suddenly, sourly jealous.

As Hannibal casts a mild glance towards Alana you see that there is a comfortable and entirely mutual attraction between them. This woman does not know the depths of Hannibal’s carnality, imagines him an affable eccentric, a sometime lover, nothing more. She returns his look with a crooked smile, and again there is that sanguine pulse of envy through you, turning you almost against her.

“I’ll leave you alone, for a moment,” says Dr Lecter, lightly. “I’m sure you’ll find Jack’s concerns largely unwarranted.”

“We’ll see,” says Alana, then, addressing you, she adds, “Hello. It’s lovely to meet you.”

You watch Hannibal dissipate into the shadows of the doorway, doubting he goes much further than the wall beyond.

“Hi,” you say, at last, quite listlessly.

Your mouth is loose around the word. You’ve never wanted less to speak.

“You know who I am, and why I’m here to see you today?” Alana ventures.

Her voice is soft, level, the tones of therapists the world over. Perhaps she hopes to incur a bond between you, to pierce your ice with a pick of female sensitivity.

“I know about you,” you say. “Dr Lecter told me.”

“Okay. That’s good.”

You see the tension in Alana’s forehead, an attempt to read the glaze in your eyes and coiled skink of your posture.

“You’ve made quite a friend in Jack already,” she says. “Usually he wouldn’t get involved with any of Hannibal’s work outside the FBI, so him asking me to see you means a lot. I want you to understand that. I’d also like you to know that while we’re both close to Dr Lecter, if this situation truly isn’t right for you, we’ll express that.”

Unmoved, you pluck at the edge of a couch cushion, letting Alana wade through the quiet alone.

“I have to admit that I was shocked to hear that you were staying here with him,” she says. “It’s... unusual. I’m still trying to figure out that decision.”

With Hannibal listening, an omnipotent threat, you only blink, rubbing your socked foot against the carpet.

“But,” Alana continues, sitting down beside you, “Hannibal has explained to me that he thinks you’d be unhappy in a facility.”

You edge away from her, trying not to look at her slender wrists, the small, lacquered fingers.

“Well,” you mutter. “I’m not happy here.”

“You weren’t happy at home either, so I’m told,” says Alana, softly. “So where would you be happy?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t felt it in a while, I guess.”

Misery overcomes you, and you begin to shiver, which Alana, with seamless tact, elects to ignore.

“When was the last time you were happy that you remember?” she asks, and you shake your head.

“You won’t like the answer.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Rubbing your eyes with the side of one hand, you say, “It was at my lowest weight. I felt so light, full of, you know, good cheer and kindness towards people because it was just easy to be nice when I felt good about myself. I knew I looked sort of scary, but I thought I looked sort of amazing, too.

“It’s weird. How I hated how sick I was. I hated myself, and I cried all the time, and yet I loved it. I felt like I belonged somewhere— there was this community for people like me, and I fit in. I was one of the best. Then the doctors said I had to gain weight, and it was all ruined. I lost my place, and I was back to feeling awful every minute of the day.”

You take a breath, cursing the childishness of your every mannerism, that you are so much less of a woman than the being beside you.

“Here, Dr Lecter controls everything,” you say. “Not one single thing is my choice, or what I’d do. I don’t even have a TV in my room. Everything I ask, he says no. I don’t have a future. Everything feels grey and pointless, and I wish he’d just leave me alone.”

Something pushes against one of your fists: a subtle square of tissue.

“I agree that there needs to be quite a few changes around here,” says Alana. “Maybe we can start by asking Dr Lecter to set you some short-term goals. Has he discussed any with you yet?”

“He wants me to finish a book,” you say, reluctantly. “The Idiot. Dostoevsky.”

Alana’s low brows rise.

“Wow. That sounds a little intimidating.”

The statement could easily be patronising, but isn’t. Like Jack, Alana has her reservations, and does not conceal them.

“So far it’s actually pretty good,” you say. “Sad, though. It’s about this poor guy who’s sort of in frail health, and seems kind of strange, so everybody is horrible to him. Every chapter you hope somebody will understand him or treat him right, and nobody ever does.”

“I see,” says Alana. “Maybe Hannibal is trying to make you be a little kinder to yourself. You’re an intelligent, creative young woman with a future ahead of you. I think Dr Lecter sees that in you, wouldn’t you agree?”

The affection in her eyes is so sure, so wrongly led, that it breaks you like antique glass.

“Alana,” you say. “What if I told you that Hannibal was—”

You remember his presence, suddenly, eavesdropping as you yourself have often done.

Alana frowns, her folded hands stilling in her lap.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

Don’t answer, you think, but your tongue unlatches of its solitary accord to speak.

“I don’t feel safe around Will and Hannibal. I don’t really like... men. There are things that have happened to me. I— I feel dirty all the time. When they look at me, touch me, it’s exactly like that.”

“I promise you that Will and Hannibal are not like that at all,” Alana says, firmly.

“You don’t know that,” you snap. “You don’t. They could lie to you.”

Alana looks at you for a long time before she answers, treading a pinched line between sympathy and duty.

“If something happened to you, I can help you report it. Even if it was a long time ago. Historic cases are a lot harder to prove in court, but it might benefit you to have it on record.”

“And if it was recently?” you ask, with daring abandon.

“Depending how recently, there’s a process you’d follow,” says Alana. “For instance, you could go to a hospital and have a rape kit taken. They’d document the evidence, take photographs, and your statement. It would be thorough and difficult, but it would help you find justice. Is that something that would be helpful right now?”

Forthright and serious, she nevertheless does not—cannot—believe that Will and Hannibal are your injurers, looking back through the tunnel of past at some assailant yet unnamed.

“I was just wondering,” you mumble, and Alana withdraws, realising she cannot get through to you.

“Alright,” she says. “I’m going to have a talk with Hannibal. See if he’s willing to make some adjustments for your comfort. I’ll come and see you again in a week or so to check in on you. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“Yeah,” you say. “It will. Bye, Alana.”

You look down, seeing the tissue ripped into dehydrated snowflakes in your hand.

Quietly, sensitively, the woman leaves.

It is half an hour before Hannibal renters the room, danger lying, flat-bellied, beneath his affable smile.

“I overheard your conversation, with Alana,” he says, plainly. “The thread of some notion of leaving with her. Of alerting the police. Let it go. I will never leave a trace of myself within you when guests are expected, little one.”

He pauses, seeming to search your face for a response that is not there.

“You don’t expect to see justice.”

You allow the pieces of tissue to fall from your hand, picking off the last damp shreds with the border of one bitten fingernail.

“No.”

“Then your attempts to escape are entirely self-harming,” says Hannibal, in genuine disappointment. “All your life you’ve been looking for someone to take responsibility for the acts that you must do to survive. To be caged, to you, is liberty, for behind such bars you’ll no longer be culpable for shame or failure. Why do you spurn what I would gladly give?”

“It wasn’t given,” you say. “It was forced.”

“By necessity, yes. For you to consent, you would have been made to acknowledge your own sin, and you’re not capable of that, are you, little one?”

Hannibal leans down and kisses a tear from your cheekbone.

“Soon, you will attend a therapy session with me. You will tell me what you were on the verge of offering to Alana.”

*

In the early evening, Will Graham arrives; you see him crossing the driveway from a window, pulling a leaf from one wayward curl with a grimace. Since Alana’s visit you’ve been on the couch in a drugged malaise, but upon hearing him stamp dirt from his shoes on the welcome mat you are taken up by the senseless notion to go to him.

He is not Hannibal. He is the man that saved you from the earth, in your dreams. A beast, but one you may learn to ride, being that, in his rudderless madness, he seeks companionship in the dark.

Certainly, you are not yourself, to think this, are exhausted to the point of insensibility by Hannibal’s slow cruciation of the mind.

Orphaned from logic, you run to Will, catching him as he strolls through the foyer. You behold a startled look of horror before you leap into his arms, unable to articulate yourself beyond a howl of sobbing hurt. He stands, ossified against you, an indurate oblong of disgust.

Then, with the suddenness of resignation, he sags into a nearby chair with you in his lap and rocks you there until you quiet.

His heart is quick under his shirt, his hands at your back quaking, dismayed. Glancing up, you see his mouth is a near lipless line, but then it breaks, and he hushes you, more as though you are a pet than human.

“An unexpected sight,” says Hannibal, looking into the foyer. “I didn’t think you had much liking for our girl.”

Will grinds his teeth.

“I don’t. But I do pity her. I’m afraid that by the time we’re done with this experiment she’ll be dissolved by our cruelty.”

“Like the little mermaid by the sea,” Hannibal comments. “Condemned by love’s rejection. Will you continue to rebuff her, after this?”

“I’ve been participating since the beginning.”

“And so you see that cruelty is often a necessary force. A common occurrence in nature, and in the culinary world. Veal is a biblical evil, for example, infanticide for the selfishness lusts of men.”

“We’re selfish, alright,” says Will, adjusting your weight in his arms. “Besides, doesn’t cruelty affect the flavour of the meat?”

Hannibal laughs indulgently.

“Are you intending to eat her, Will?”

The younger man lifts his chin.

“Are you?”

“Not in the traditional sense,” Dr Lecter replies, with a wicked merriment. “But in the other, we’ve both sampled her, and have no regrets. Do we?"

[xf-cases-solved]

i wrote a fic inspired by this post i made, about how william should have been a girl named samantha and how i will die on that hill with honor. see below, or click this link to be directed to my ao3, if you so desire

Title: the bitter and the sweet

Rating: Gen

Word Count: ~2400

Back on the vineyard, before Samantha had been taken and the four of them had approximated something approaching a family unit, Mulder's mother would make homemade bread on Sunday afternoons.

The process had always fascinated him—the way she could parse out units of flour, sugar, water, and yeast and combine them together into something that, only hours later, would have the whole house smelling of an artisanal bakery, the atmosphere somehow made warm and inviting by the wafting scent of baking bread. When he was really little—when the biggest unexplained phenomenon to him was the Tooth Fairy—baking seemed like magic to him, and his mother was its wielder. 

How else, he'd figured, could she be able to take all those separate ingredients—banal and basic on their own—and turn them into something incredible?

Tonight, Mulder's feeling a little like how he did when his mother would make bread, only on a much, much grander scale. 

He's finding himself believing in magic, and this time, Scully is its wielder. It's no great surprise to him that she's powerful—he's known that from the start—but it wasn't until he'd found her drenched in sweat, tear tracks down her cheeks, blood staining the insides of her thighs, and a tiny child cradled protectively against her heaving chest that he'd learned that she was a magician, too. 

Out of two ingredients, Dana Scully has made a person.

Mulder has seen things in his lifetime that go far beyond the laws of nature. He's seen ghosts and ghouls; monsters, both bestial and human alike; he's seen proof of life outside this planet time and time again; he has died, his body buried six feet beneath the ground for months, and he's come back to life.

And yet, somehow none of that compares to witnessing the miracle of the most basic, fundamental tenet of existence: Reproduction. Something so innate—the instinctive need to replicate oneself so that one's lineage may live on in perpetuity. Hundreds of thousands of human babies are born a day; if he had known, like really known, how remarkable that is, maybe he would have decided that anything beyond it was simply above his pay grade and given up trying to understand the Universe long ago.

He hears the front door click shut as the Gunmen show themselves out, and yet he doesn't move just yet. He has to take a breath first—has to give himself a moment to shake his head in awe. On the other side of this doorway is his brand new life, and it's daunting to know you're about to walk into a fresh existence.

But no amount of anxiety can outmatch his need to see her. To see them. 

He'd had such little time with them before, and there had been so much chaos going on around them that he hadn't been able to appreciate what he did get, and he's trying not to feel resentful about it. The baby's healthy, Scully's healthy, and in the end, that's what matters most, but still, he can't help but feel robbed on Scully's behalf. On his own behalf, too, if he's being honest. 

After everything she has gone through—after the multitudes of hellfires she's walked through since the day she first stepped into his office—Scully deserved a beautiful pregnancy, with an equally beautiful birth. After everything he's gone through—after every chance he's lost to show the breadth of his love to the people who own his heart—he deserved to care for her, from week one to week forty, and to be by her side as she performed magic in a clean delivery room, with freshly laundered receiving blankets on hand, and the reassurance of trained professionals nearby should something go wrong. Something so precious should have never been shrouded in so much trauma.

It should have been different. They had earned different. 

But he's not going to dwell on it, at least not right now. Maybe in a quiet moment, when his family (his family!) is asleep and peaceful, he'll grant himself the space to feel the bitter in this sweet. 

But that's for later. 

Right now, he has to go to them; he can feel their thrall like the arrow of a compass being pulled north by the Earth's magnetic core, and this hallway suddenly feels a lightyear away from where he's meant to be, the space between them and himself a wormhole, where on his end there's the life he's led until now, and on the other side lies a brand new world he can't even begin to fathom the extent of just yet.

So he walks through the doorway, bending time, stepping out of one reality and into the next. He doesn't mourn what he's left behind���everything that matters now exists inside this room.

"How's everybody doing?" he asks, and if she can hear the thread of anxiety rumbling through his words like a shockwave beneath a tectonic plate, she doesn't mention it—merely smiles widely at him, the corners of her tired eyes crinkling. She's already so tiny, but the giant swaddling of blankets and baby in her arms covers half her torso, making her look even smaller. 

Small, but so incredibly, incredibly strong.

"We're doin' just fine," she says, standing up from the edge of the bed, a hand gently patting the baby's back through the cushion of blankets. As she approaches, he knows his face must look ridiculous—his head shaking in disbelief, his mouth slightly ajar, even as his lips are turned up into a smile, and eyes laser focused on them as though if he so much as blinks they'll disappear—but he can't help it. He's witnessing magic; of course he's awed. 

The baby snuffles grumpily at being jostled, as Scully moves the whole bundle into his expectant arms.

"Hey now," he mutters to the child. "None of that."

He gets the baby's head settled into the crook of his elbow, and the amount of protectiveness that swells within him is so sudden and intense that it almost takes his breath away. 

Words fail him; there isn't a language, on this planet or the next, that could ever properly convey the weight of his thoughts, so he just smiles at Scully and breaths a shaky, "Hi," before turning back to the baby, his body rocking to-and-fro gently on its own accord, and that's something, isn't it? That he instinctively knows how to soothe.

He surveys the baby's face with the focus one would use to parse out a magic-eye poster. He's searching for familiar features, and memorizing all the shapes and slopes and colors that have come together to create the breathtaking picture before him. A long time ago, he remembers calling his eidetic memory a curse, and at the time it had felt true, because in his line of work he saw so many horrible, wretched things, and it would have been a mercy to be able to forget them.

He doesn't consider it a curse now. He thinks that, maybe, he was actually bestowed a blessing, and he just hadn't realized it because it had always been meant for this exact moment in time.

This is... this is a lot. 

A lot, a lot, a lot.

Mulder has always known that he has a tendency to love at a magnitude so severe it is almost to his detriment; he knows that his heart has always been his biggest strength and biggest weakness in equal measure. Once, not long after a bullet had cracked his skull, he had found his way to Antarctica, armed with a vial of antidote, an unreliable compass, and a decent coat, and through the force of his love, he had brought Scully home with a clean bill of health, say for a bit of freezer burn on her cheeks. His love is so mighty, it is almost a type of magic in itself.

But he has never felt love like this before.

He's not even sure if it is love, the feeling so foreign and all-consuming.

He wants to cry with the might of it—feels so full of emotion that he could stand in the center of a field and scream it at the sky until his voice goes hoarse, and even then the precarious glass of his heart would still be dangerously close to overflowing. For all the things he's believed in his life, the hardest thing for him to wrap his head around is the idea that he is capable of loving this big.

"What are you going to call her?" he finds the words to ask. 

Her.

Somehow, the simple use of a pronoun tilts the world on its axis. He thinks it has to do with abstractions. Since he returned from the dead, they've only spoken about her in the abstract. "The baby." "This child." A nameless, faceless, sexless concept that they knew would come into existence one day, but they couldn't quite understand what that existence would mean. 

But she exists now, and she's a she. 

Boy, girl, both, neither—he'd had no preferences nor expectations, but the concreteness of the identifier has his pulse thudding wildly. Scully—the magician and, until very, very recently, the greatest love of his life—has done the impossible and created a person and that person is his... well, they haven't discussed that yet, have they? What he's entitled to referring to her as.

But then she says, "With your blessing"—she's quiet and shy about this, but still meets his eyes with her usual amount of confidence—"I wanted to name her Samantha." 

In some magazine a million years ago, Mulder had read about the art of human suspension. It originates as a spiritual practice that is thousands of years old, wherein people suspend themselves in the air by hooks embedded beneath their skin, and at the time he had been, of course, open and respectful of the concept, but did not particularly see the appeal. While he understood it in theory, without experiencing it, he couldn't quite see how one could endure such intense pain and be grateful for it. To feel revived by it. To feel complete. 

There are no hooks in his skin—he's not hanging from any banisters, trying to reach enlightenment—but he definitely has a better grasp on the practice now. In six words, Scully has taught him how to feel honored by pain. 

This is, he thinks, the utter definition of bittersweet, because god, it's so bitter, but god, nothing has ever been so sweet.

His instinct is to make a joke, because that's what he does when he gets overwhelmed. Maybe make a quip about seeing some of Walter Skinner in this little girl's face, is there something she wants to tell him...? But, unfortunately, it seems that his throat is closing up, so no jokes today, he supposes. Nothing to cover the rawness of his emotion as he blinks the tears out of his vision so that he can see his daughter clearly.

Because that's what she is—Scully just said as much. This is his daughter, named after an aunt she'll never get to meet, but whose memory will live on through her. 

"She deserved so much better than the short time she got," Scully is saying, and although he wants to look at her, he can't because that would mean looking away from his daughter, and that's not possible at the moment. "Mulder, every step we've taken that has gotten us to this point has been because of your love for her. Your search, your passion—everything that brought us together—it's because of her. And through you, I've grown to love her, too. She had no choice in making her sacrifice, but I want to acknowledge it anyway. I want... Mulder, I want our daughter to carry a name that symbolizes enduring strength, and unimaginable bravery, and, more than anything else, infallible, everlasting love." Her hand comes to rest on his wrist. "But only with your blessing, Mulder."

Mulder closes his eyes, a teardrop or two escaping and sliding down the bridge of his nose as he leans forward and presses his forehead gently against his daughter's. He breathes in deep, centering himself and righting his world with the scent of baby powder. Scully waits patiently, her thumb tracing small circles around the circumference of his wrist joint. Finally, he straightens himself out and looks at her.

Once again, language leaves him wanting. 

He settles on a whispered, shaky, "Thank you," that cracks his voice. 

He's thanking her for the in memoriam, certainly, but for so much more than that as well. 

Thank you, he means, for your magic that brought her into this world.

Thank you, for granting me entry into your body so that I could help you make this child, as much as I could.

Thank you, for saving my life, again and again and again and again, so that I can be here to experience true bliss for the first time.

Thank you, for stepping into my office the better part of a decade ago and, against all good judgment and reason, staying by my side ever since.

Thank you, for letting me love you.

Thank you, for loving me in return.

Scully gives a half smile and a nod; he has no doubt that she hears everything he doesn't say, because while all other languages are limited, they have long since created their own mode of communication that only the two of them speak.

There are conversations they need to have. The trauma of Samantha's birth is still shrouded in mystery; the fact that she wasn't taken from them has created more questions than it has provided answers, and that needs to be acknowledged. 

They have to talk about what happens next. What are their roles now? To the world. To their daughter. To each other.

That can all be discussed later, though, when language doesn't feel so useless, and his heart does feel so bruised and battered from all the bitter and all the sweet.

He does the only thing he could possibly do in this moment, and that's lean down and press his lips to hers. She kisses back, one hand holding him by the elbow, Samantha bracketed by their bodies, keeping her safe.

Since he was twelve years old, Samantha has been his driving force.

Today, she still is, but in a different form. A different life.

Mulder loves his baby sister.

Mulder loves his baby daughter.

He thinks he might go into the kitchen tomorrow, and bake Scully a loaf of bread.

[elcor-thespian]

The rule is for every hour I clean my house, I can spend one hour yapping about my digital children. SO:

I'm doing Rook and partner questions for each of my Rooks. One question at a time.

6) What are their favorite things to do together? Do they share any hobbies? Do they teach each other their hobbies?

Here are the couples:

Nephele Mercar (human rogue) - Lucanis

Nasreen Aldwir (elf mage) - Emmrich

Aleksei Laidir (elf rogue) - Bellara

Brenna Thorne (human warrior) - Davrin

Elspeth de Riva (dwarf warrior) - Harding

Konstantin Ingellvar (Qunari warrior) - Neve

Paloma (Qunari mage) - Taash

Nephele and Lucanis both cook, although she doesn't let him know that until they are officially together. Nephele is from Rivain and her cooking style reflects that, so they spend a lot of time experimenting in the kitchen together showing each other different recipes and techniques. Nephele has never been a good baker however, so Lucanis is trying to help her get better (it's not going well). But Nephele also sews, and she's trying to teach him and that's not going well either. She get's bored when trying to learn to knit and it doesn't make sense anyway because they live in Antiva WHEN are they going to wear all of these scarves and sweaters. Lucanis points out that she doesn't need to make her own clothes anymore either because they can pay someone to do it.

Nasreen because a rabid reader when she meets Emmrich. She's never felt one way or the other about reading, she just hasn't had consistent access to books. But she starts burning through his library and WHAT DO YOU MEAN that this isn't your full library? There's more?? As she's reading she's coming to him with questions which turn into long conversations and eventually (as she learns more) debates. What do you mean debating isn't a hobby? It is if you're doing it right. Also they both have an interest in plants, although Emmrich prefers flowers and she prefers poisonous and carnivorous plants. Nasreen also plays guitar and sings. Emmrich doesn't have any musical ability but he loves listening to her.

Aleksei is functionally illiterate which initially made him feel pretty out of his depth with Bellara. But he's not a quitter so he used it as a way to get closer to her and now they're working on hie reading and writing by writing stories together. He is however, naturally gifted in alchemy and chemistry, which is a fancy way of saying he can make shit that explodes. He also tinkers around with mechanical things. How did you think we got the gun for the Saboteur specialization? Bellara and Aleksei's first date.

Brenna and Davrin are that annoying ass couple that work out together and hike. I mean good for them. Just can't relate.

NEVER forget that Lace Harding was an official member of the Sing-quisition. NEVER. Can Elspeth sing? Not in the slightest. NEITHER of these idiots can cook, so most of the time they go out to eat and try new food in whatever city they've ended up in. Elspeth is really in to wine hand has a share in the Dellamorte Vineyards post-Veilguard (Lucanis was like, of sick, you want to take some of this responsibility off of me? Done.). She's not good at gardening (they are fighting for their life trying to keep a single succulent alive, so Lace helps with that aspect.

Konstantin is a talented charcoal artist and poet, but he absolutely does not share this. Neve finds out eventually, and shows him her doodles in her notes (you know the ones). Once he is officially assisting her detective work (He is her Watson and is THRILLED about it), he does composite drawings of suspects, sketches of crime scenes, etc. He also does a lot of reading (mostly history), and will read to Neve to help her relax.

Paloma and Taash is hard because they really are opposite people and I haven't played through the romance yet, and Paloma is the character I've played the least. Paloma and Taash do meditate together (for different reasons and with different results). I think Paloma does also get into the dragon stuff. I think it would be really hard to date Taash and not be in to dragons.

[johnwickb1tsch]

andar conmigo ~ part 11

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: don John STILL being himself an asshole, nsfw chapter map

You scream, certain in the span of a blink that he will land on his neck and you will be a widow before you ever got the chance to actually marry the man. 

Paul hits the dirt hard–and your heart with it–but he rolls with the impact, and somehow ends the disaster standing on his feet, looking utterly flabbergasted that he emerged unscathed. His smile is like the breaking of sunshine from behind an ominous cloud. The horse shies to the far end of the pen, stomping indignantly, and the crowd erupts with shouts and whistles for him. Everyone is delighted–except for don Juan, of course, who looks on with the expression of a man who bit into a particularly wretched lemon. 

That is when you are certain Juan cinched the saddle badly–if at all–and deliberately tried to hurt Paul with this escapade. Vibrating with rage, you march over to him, poking him hard in that solid chest of his. “How dare you?” you hiss. 

“Cálmate,” he sneers, batting your hand away. Calm yourself. 

But you have never been so angry in your life, rage filling you like a howling forest fire, and you wind up to slap him. He catches your wrist at the last moment, jerking you close with that iron-hard strength that always takes you by surprise. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he says low in your ear, before releasing you to stalk back into the pen. No one paid any attention to your exchange, all fawning over Paul, who has thankfully had the good sense to exit the corral and leave the horse-breaking to the professionals. 

It takes a good five minutes for you to reclaim your temporary husband, everyone crowding around Paul to clap him on the shoulder and rib him for falling off like a circus monkey. You are still trembling by the time he sidles over to you, his joy dampening as he sees you are on the verge of a breakdown. 

“Hey now. I’m fine.”

He is covered in dust, and there’s a scrape on his cheek. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, masking the maelstrom inside you with low words. It doesn’t fool Paul for a second. 

“Hey,” he says again, drawing you into the circle of his arms. “It’s alright. Please don’t cry?”

“I’m going to cry,” you inform him, your facade cracking a little with your voice, “And I’d like to not do it here. Will you take me inside?” 

When you frame it this way he slings his arm over your shoulders, leading you towards the house. You notice as you walk together that he’s developed a slight limp. 

Estupido. 

This idiotic, loveable, absolute puppy dog of a man. 

If he’d been seriously hurt…you would have done a lot more than tried to slap don Juan.

“Is anything broken?” 

“No,” he insists, but makes a sound through his teeth as he puts weight on his ankle.

“Lean on me,” you insist quietly, and once you round the wall of the courtyard, he does. 

Once you have him safely bundled in your room and seated in a chair he pays you a sheepish smile that makes you want to forgive him everything. “Guess you’re going to say ‘I told you so,’ huh?”

You give him a look that only makes him grin wider, the scamp. “Do I really have to?”

“Hmm. Well…I think my cowboy days are behind me now.”

Thank God.

“That’s a relief.” You dab at his chin with a wet rag, getting the dirt out of the scrape as gently as you can. “Though…you did very well, considering.” 

His dark eyes sparkle for your reluctant praise. 

“I had some good last-minute advice.” You narrow your eyes down at him, but your annoyance just seems to bounce off this man like rubber. Stranger yet, he seems to enjoy it. “You were pretty worried about me, huh?” 

“Of course I was. Have you ever seen a man turned into a vegetable from a kick to the head?” You shudder, remembering an incident with one of your older cousins when you were a girl. The memory of his dead, staring eyes will always haunt you. By some mercy he only lingered a month, before succumbing in his bed.  

“I’ve seen plenty of terrible things, honey,” Paul gently reminds you, looking down at his hands.  

You freeze, feeling stupid in that moment. He’s seen that and worse, you’re suddenly sure. But then…you are angry all over again. Because he survived all that, just to nearly die for the sake of riding a horse? 

“Then why risk it?” you snipe. “What for? To prove you are a man? To who? To them? To Juan? To me? I already know you’re braver and truer than anyone!”

He looks up at you with those liquid brown eyes, and you feel yourself melt all over again. “Are you saying…I've got something to live for?” he asks hopefully.  

“I should hope so! You have your whole life ahead of you!”

“That’s not what I mean.” 

You make a small, exasperated sound in your throat that causes his lips to twist, trying not to smile. 

“Tell me why you were so worried.” 

“You know why.” 

“Not sure I do…” He pulls you in closer between his spread legs, looking up at you with that pleading dark gaze. You have to close your eyes against the strength of the emotion that fills you at that moment, another round of tremors quaking through your bones. 

This man. 

“You know I care about you.”  

“Uh huh.” He rests his chin upon your breastbone, still looking up at you expectantly. 

“I told you that you’re precious to me.” 

“Yeah.”  

His hands have made it to your waist, spanning your back, holding you to him. It makes you dizzy all over again–you are finding it harder and harder, to imagine life without those hands on you, holding you, comforting you, making you go to pieces…

“Paul…” you whine, begging for mercy he might not be in the mood to grant right now. You’re not really sure how you end up straddling his lap. He pulled you, maybe, or…you just melted into him. More and more, it seems like that is how things have been going. You are helpless as a magnet seeking iron with this man, the one thing you are meant to hold on to. His strong arms wrap around you, holding you to him, and you stay like that together for a long time, your head on his shoulder. 

“You have to promise me to be careful with Juan,” you whisper. “He meant to hurt you today.” 

“Oh. Maybe he hoped, but it was just one of his mean little games.” You marvel that even now, this man can’t imagine that off the battlefield, someone truly meant him serious harm. 

“No, Paul. He cinched the saddle too loose. I’m certain of it. He hoped the horse would kill you for him.” Paul is quiet in your arms as he digests this, not dismissing your accusation again. “Maybe…we should go, before something terrible happens. I can take you back to San Francisco.” 

His powerful body shudders with laughter beneath you. “You’re gonna escort me home, huh?” 

You sigh, knowing it sounds ridiculous when he puts it like that. You just…can’t shake the need to protect him, when it seems for some reason no one else in the world ever has. 

He kisses your temple. “Sweetheart, you are my home right now. I’m not leaving you.”  

You lift your head to brush his lips with yours. “I’m scared,” you admit. You wish the two of you could just steal off into the night, much like the first time you fled this place. 

He nods, and it means the world to you, that he doesn’t outright dismiss your fear. He’s the only man in the world you know who has actually listened to you. You comb your fingers through his hair at his temples, looking at him from so close, your heart so full you think it might explode. You almost feel as though you are watching from outside your body, as you gather your breath and gird your loins, ready to tell him how you really feel. “Paul…I lo–” 

There is a knock on the door. The interruption makes you jump as though you’ve been caught. “Y/n?”

You get to your feet, reluctantly answering the door when you recognize Esmerelda, the head housekeeper’s voice. “Sí, Esme?” 

You crack the door to find the older woman looking despondent on your threshold. “You need to come quickly. Your father…has taken a turn.” 

You shoot an apologetic look back at Paul, who nods with understanding even though you know for all the world he wants to hear the rest of the words you’d had for him, right on the tip of your tongue. “I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you, Esme.” 

With a sudden feeling of dread in your heart, you close the door behind you, and you run. 

[milkywayan]

As I rewatch all the historical farm docus again (i looove them so this is not a critique of hate but of love), there is something I think I have to point out, especially for people who are not as obsessed with this stuff as I am

They are talking about the british perspective.

Many things they say are correct for their geographical area, but not true for the rest of europe. and i have to say, sometimes they do get stuff about the rest of europe wrong (e.g. Ruth talks about the possibility of a woman having her own business in medieval england, saying that was not the case in the rest of europe, which is factually wrong as we, for example, have sources of women inheriting and running their own business in medieval vienna, and having important positions in guilds)

Also, they also once state that wine was expensive and a luxory, not adding 'in britain' and stating it as a fact, while this is of course not the case for a lot of regions with a lot of vinyards. going with the vienna example again, which is in a basin surrounded by low hills which are covered in vineyards since probably roman times (they still are today). there was even a ban of brewing beer comercially within the city to have people drink wine. it was generally not expensive

they also state people in the medieval times did not wash... which is also wrong. idk about england, i am not an expert, but we have a lot of german sources of paintings showing people in baths (not only nobles), there were loads of communal bath houses in medieval cities that show up in documents and in archaeological finds, there are references in literature (e.g. Parzival from the late 12th century, he is taught that he should wash every time after taking off his armour and he is full body washing himself regularly). They were not as cleanly as we are today, sure, but they knew with dirt came disease, they thought that bad smells carried disease, so why on earth would they not clean themselves?

so yea, i am of course speaking from a different geographical area, i focus on central europe/german sources and idk a lot about britain. but it is important to not just lump 'medieval europe' into one big pot

[fantasy-relax]

Ineffable plan

Part 4

In order to collect information, you needed to approach the women who decided to stay in the castle despite having finished the time stipulated in the contract, understandably they were also the ones who had higher-ranking positions in the castle.

Greta, 58 years old the head maid and Lady Dimitrescu's personal maid, in the months you have been there you have known her as a serious, severe and strict woman. However, her efficiency was undeniable, the castle was enormous and it was her duty to keep it clean and impeccable, you admired her ability to coordinate a tremendous amount of staff and carry out the matriarch's orders.

Jenica, 37 years old, was in charge of the vineyard and just as Greta lived under a lot of stress, she was always locked in Lady Dimitrescu's office or with Lady Bela.

Why stay here when they had more than enough money to retire without problems in the town? Furthermore, the responsibility was enormous as well as the stress, you had seen women of their respective ages with less gray hair than them.

Dorotthea, the 49 years old Chef and person in charge of the kitchen area, almost as strict as Greta, you didn't blame her, the kitchen team was the smallest in the castle, however the one that was most watched by the Dimitrescu. The kitchen helpers not only suffered from severe training to enter, they were also disowned by the other maids because the food prepared for the lady of the house and her daughters was made of human flesh that in many cases came from colleagues who broke the rules on too many occasions or were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In her case you could understand why she would stay, the rumors fly, you doubted that she could have a peaceful life after handing over her neighbors on a silver platter (literally).

Relia, the 47 years old master carpenter, relaxed with everything except her work, her passion for her craft was so much that she also was in charge of instructing the lumberjacks and checking the wood that was delivered. If it did not meet her standards, she did not hesitate to return it something the perfectionist Lady Dimitrescu let her do.

While she would face some disdain for being a woman, her experience would be very useful in the village as it needed serious improvements to increase the quality of life, the creation of fences and more resistant houses was a matter of life and death, they had to accept her help.

Alana the 35 year old gardener was... peculiar she was always mumbling while she ate, while she drank while she walked she was always whispering about the plants in the garden or the vineyard. She wasn't rude or anything, but it was hard to strike up a conversation with her that didn't involve plants.

She was intelligent, but her eccentricities would cause her problems in the town.

Soreana, the 38 years old stable manager, she was gentle but it was easy to see how she preferred being with animals to being with people. You didn't understand why you had seen the beasts that were called horses that carried Lady Dimitrescu's carriage, they terrified you as much as the lycans.

How could you approach them so you can ask their reasons?

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

“Do you wish to work as a specialized maid?” Miss Greta's voice showed a hint of curiosity.

“Yes, but I can't decide in which area in particular, you see, I have done various jobs in the village, I have had my hands stained with ink and dirt, so it is a bit difficult for me to decide where to go” You used the merchant skills that you had acquired after so many meetings and business with the Duke. “So I wanted to know if it was possible to spend a day in each area to experiment and see which one suits me best.”

The woman seemed to think about it before speaking with a tired tone. “There is a lack of personnel in all areas, the workers in recent years have been problematic and consequently have been... discarded.”

You swallowed, knowing well what she meant by that.

“I'm going to see what I can do, for today follow your normal schedule.”

You nodded, afraid and curious about what awaited you.

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

The next day while you were getting ready for work you heard someone knock on the bedroom door, something strange since to avoid conflicts due to your peculiar biology you woke up much earlier to be able to use the bathroom with privacy.

You opened the door only to be met with an irritated Greta.

“Already in uniform? Perfect, follow me” the woman didn´t wait for a response, walking quickly, almost stumbling, you closed the door and followed her.

“Excuse me, ma'am, but what happened for you to come pick me up so early?”

With a voice full of annoyance, she answered you. “A group of maids destroyed the window and part of the wall of the Hall of Joy” How?! “I still have to investigate where they got the explosives from” Again, how? “Lady Dimitrescu wants it fixed today” Daniela surely had something to do with that request “You said you knew about carpentry, right? “

“Yes ma'am, I also know a little about construction.”

Your response made the woman stop and grab your shoulders with a look that you can only describe as manic even if her voice was even as always. “Did you work with bricklayers?”

“A friend of my father is, sometimes he took me with him when they had work together” Maybe your father considered you a phenomenon, but if you could be useful to him, he was capable of taking you to hell.

“That will be helpful, Relia is the only one who knows anything about masonry, so your support would be more than good for her.”

So your research has begun.

[cloggedarteri]

♡imagine the auditore kids sitting around the villa bored out of their minds unable to come to an agreement on what to do with their day. there are sure to be chores around the house — cupboards that need organizing, bookcases and shelves that need dusting, floors that need cleaning — but neither of the siblings is particularly interested in doing that kind of work. despite their boredom, they aren't particularly interested in doing anything and, as the kids watch their father stroll along the vineyard the two try to throw out ideas, "wanna throw some rocks," marcello suggests. "see how far we can skip em, maybe." "lake is too far," flavia says. "don't feel like carrying you when you get tired" "could find some glasses...see who has the better aim"  "no...we already got in trouble for hitting bottles"  "you got in trouble for hitting a window" "but it was your fault for putting the bottle so close so you're partly to blame" "not my fault you're blind" "i hate you"

♡the auditore kids who silently despair the eventual loss of their free day before being drawn to the screeching of an eagle perched on their villa roof...now thats an idea. "you see what im seeing sorella?" "yea...GO!"

♡the auditore kids who take their competitions incredibly seriously. these two are willing to trip and scratch and pull at one another as needed to win but have come to the agreement that anything is fair game as long as they don't kill each other. the two siblings scramble to the barrels, to the windowsill and shutters, to the handing flower pots, trying to grab onto anything that could give them purchase. the two are so incredibly close but flavia manages to be a second faster than her brother and once atop the roof the siblings see that where there used to be the eagle lays a single feather.

♡the auditore kids who upon getting closer to the feather hear a resonating hum and once pocketed are met with the vast and peaceful view of the Tuscan countryside. imagine this is the kid's first "synchronize" moment and the two just get lost in it all. but most mesmerizing of all was the sky.  ♡the auditore kids who are taken out of their daydreaming when they hear their father's voice calling out for them, the volume steadily growing more agitated the longer they do not answer his call. the two scurry to the edge of the roof and call back.  "WE'RE UP HERE PAPÀ!"  "WHY—HOW DID YOU TWO GET UP THERE?!"  "umm...WE CLIMBED?" "IS THAT A QUESTION?" "umm..." 

♡the auditore kids who move away from the roof's edge to coordinate their stories but when they take a quick glance back at ezio, he's long since moved from his still position next to the field and is instead found climbing his way up the roof. a fierce rush of panic flows through the two siblings, enough panic for them to forget that the man they're worried will fall off the house is the same that'd been bathed in the blood of numerous templar conspirators for 3 decades and is all too familiar with climbing. "NO PAPÀ GET DOWN!/YOU'RE GONNA FALL PAPÀ!" "i'll be fine. this is nothing"

♡ezio who finally makes it up to the roof with little (ok maybe a little) effort and takes a seat between his two children. now that panic has calmed it's time for answers, "why'd i catch you two up here?" "race!/feather!" "so you raced to the roof to catch a feather?" wordlessly the two nod in acknowledgment. "it's special!" "special...may I?"

♡ezio who handed this "special" feather and realized admittedly it was nothing special. its looked about the same as any other feather he'd picked up during his travels but as a dedicated father he's unwilling to kill the joy of his children so, yes. this is a special feather. and as he rolls the stem of the feather between his thumb and index finger he beginnings to reminisce. how could he ever forget the lengths he'd gone to collect these very same feathers to comfort his catatonic mother after the murder of half her family and even years after her recovery. how could he forget the lone chest that held the remaining feather he and claudia had shared between them in remembrance of their mother? yes, these feathers were special indeed.

♡the auditore kids who watch their fathers longing stare at the feather he twirls in his hand. "you could keep it if you want papà" offers flavia. "we can collect more for you" marcello says.

♡ezio who brings his children into his arms and smothers them with hugs and kisses because he has such intuitive, empathetic, kind kids and truly he wonders where he'd be without the family he'd made. they have no idea how sweet of a gesture it was to part with their feather. marcello tries to push away from him but as he keeps his hold on them they both sink into his body. "you two ready to go back inside? "can we watch the clouds a little longer? " of course...of course"

♡ezio who by the end of the day is complaining about a sore back because he knew damn well he shouldnt be climbing and jumping around but he refused to be shown up by his kids and now sophia has to listen to him complain (🥺i love ezio so much imma make him live forever)

[byenycfm]

March 20th;

After leaving the Wexley in search of his sister two weeks ago, Roman Drake eventually reunited with her and the pair ventured to one of the city's previously guarded check-points in the North. Investigating further the siblings discovered that no one was guarding the check-point from the outside either. They found abandoned cars and empty houses, likely ordered to evacuate sometime near the beginning of the outbreak. Driven by a need to understand what was happening in the outside world the pair continued forward through the Bronx, Yonkers, New Heaven.

What they saw was reminiscent of the city they'd left behind, signs of life few and far between. The dead likely had little interest in the area with the living having pushed further inland.

Now outside of the signals that had been preventing communication with the outside world Roman and Birdie managed to contact their family and gather some information.

The United States has fallen.

What is left of the government and military have taken refuge and control in a vast swatch of The American Rocky mountains, last reported to be taking in immune survivors.

After the initial outbreak in New York City, pockets of outbreaks started to break out all over the country within the following hours and days.

Planes landing or crashing full of fresh chompers, Greyhound buses spilling their new bite hungry innards into the country side, etc.

Those that had escaped New York unwittingly carried with them a delayed response and the virus actively infectious in their saliva, spreading it outwards from the city like spittle.

Canada was last rumoured to be fairing better due to it's sparsely populated nature. Mexico had been doing it's best to hold out at the borders, and there were small town pockets all over the country rumoured to be holding out aided by their desolate locations.

Government updates stopped altogether nationwide on January 1st, 2024 leaving only local wavelengths open.

Rumour has it the Canadians are taking in immune refugees but this is unconfirmed and there are conflicting reports that the Canadian border patrol is shooting any and everyone on sight that even gets close.

They also learned that Roman's ex wife and daughter were stuck on the coast, floating aimlessly in the ocean after the ship they'd taken from Martha's Vineyard had run out of gas. Any attempt to dock was a death sentence as there was a band of raiders waiting to strip them of the supplies they still carried, sadly, none of which were food.

Roman and Birdie were able to coordinate with a small group of survivors and get them to shore in a raft, while the boat continued to sit in the ocean with its treasure of supplies and a handful of survivors. Birdie was tasked with taking the survivors from the raft back to the Wexley and informing them of the situation. Roman's hoping someone will be up to the task and willing to deal with the raiders. He's remained near the coast preparing for what may come.

This event will begin on Thursday 10/10/24.

Please note in the replies which, if any, of your characters are interested in assisting the survivors/supplies back to the Wexley and dealing with the raiders. We will group them and do discord threads as per the previous supply run event.

New neighbors will be joining us in the Wexley. Several NPCs from the ship will be listed on the directory; suites who belonged to characters who have passed or gone missing will be cleaned out and reused (unless asked not to).

NPC suggestions are welcomed and appreciated! Do you think one of them is a world renowned neurosurgeon? Sure, that could be helpful! Maybe one of them is a bee keeper and will be providing us with fresh honey.

Characters who remain at the Wexley will be dealing with their own surprise; something nasty has found its way into the building through the destroyed lobby, lured in by the still buried dead bodies decomposing there.

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Fic Niches and Polls

My favorite niches ranked by the people, all in one place.

Poll Results Fic: 1st Place- Injured but In-Charge Scully

Poll Results Fic: 2nd Place- Cleaning Out the Vineyard House

Poll Results Fic: 3rd Place– Tithonus Mother Hen Mulder

Poll Results Fic: 3rd Place– IVF Successes 

Poll Results Fic: 3rd Place– IVF Success, Addendum

Poll Results Fic: 4th Place– Requiem AUs– No Pregnancy, Finding Out Before Requiem, and Bad Endings

Poll Results Fic: 4th Place– Requiem AUs– Mulder Didn’t Leave

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

wallflower 36

Warnings: age gap, creepin’, slow burn, stepdad-adjacent, possible noncon/dubcon, abuse, violence, self-harm, manipulation, panic attack, dissociation, gaslighting.

Character: silverfox!Thor

Your mother meets a new man, but he doesn’t seem very interested in her.

Note: <3 Another erratic drabble series. Appreciate any and all feedback. Love you all. And I didn’t expect this chapter to go this way or to be a bit longer than usual.

Thrud is glowing, her cheeks rosy, her eyes vibrant, her hair lustrous and full. You feel like a shadow next to her. In awe of her beauty as she takes a crystal glass and pours dark wine into its depths.

She fills a second and clunks down the bottle heavily on the round table at the centre of the room. A room surrounded by several others in a small villa outside the main house of the vineyard. She hands one to you and eagerly draws from the brim. You sip daintily, the taste acrid as it singes your tongue.

You swallow, nearly choking as she takes her phone and thumbs at it carelessly, tossing it back on the table as she sticks her tongue out, "boys."

"Uh, yeah," you laugh nervously and pick at your dry lip, stopping yourself as her eyes catch the movement. "Sorry."

"Oh, hon, you don't have to be sorry," she shrugs as she sits on cushioned divan, "why don't you chill out, girl?"

You tiptoe to her and sit carefully with your glass, hers sloshing obliviously as she angles it to her mouth again. She slurps with zeal and pops her lips as she pulls it away. You look around anxiously, uncertain. She's so nice. Well, so is Thor so you guess you shouldn't be surprised.

"You ever been to Spain before?"

You shake your head and make yourself drink the wine. It's sweeter the more you sip. You cradle the glass gently and look at her again. She's gorgeous. You wish you were like her.

"Oh, wonderful, I'll have to show you around. There's a pool... indoors. It's a bit too cold out to be that wild!" She giggles, "oh, and the cellar! You can have your choice of any bottle. I'm my uncle's favourite so you don't need to worry about that."

"That's nice," you look down into the dark wine, "I don't drink much, though."

"Quiet thing like you, of course not, but you've got a friend now. You don't have to be stingy for these old men."

"Um," you give a goofy smile, not sure how to reply.

"Relax, I mean it. You're much better company than my dumb brothers. They always end up breaking something. Oh! There's this club near here, I used to sneak away in high school, don't mention it to daddy, but it's so nice and the men. They'll buy you a drink just for a smile. They like foreigners."

"Men?" You utter and shake your head, "I don't..."

"I'll do the talking. Ah, oh," she covers her mouth, "I'm terrible for it. I gab away and no one gets a word in elsewise. Well, please, I want you to tell me everything."

"Everything?"

"About you!"

"Me? Well, I'm not interesting."

"You must be if you're here."

"I... I dunno, my mom... it was just me and her and then---"

You gasp as the glass slips from your hand. You squeak and stand as it spills across the wood and you touch your cheeks. You don't know what you were doing, not paying attention. God, if your mother was there she'd holler and howl until you cleaned it up. You stare down at the puddle and sway, searching for anything to wipe it up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sniffle, "I'll clean it up. I don't know how-- I didn't mean to," you babble, "please don't be mad."

"Relax," she rises breezily and puts her empty glass aside, sweeping across the room and through a doorway. She returns with a towel but ignores your reach. She squats to mop up the mess, "it's not very much."

She sops it up and even gets a few drops from your feet. You step back shyly and hug yourself, "I'm so clumsy--"

"Hey, the glass didn't even break," she says cheerily as she lifts it, "no harm, no foul. It's all good." She smiles and goes to the table, "just means we need to get you a nice clean glass."

"Maybe I've had enough," you suggest.

"Enough, you just need to loosen up," she trills and stops, "but if you really don't want anymore, you don't have to."

You look her in the face. She makes you feel easy, like the world might not be that scary. You don't even know her but she feels familiar.

"Thank you," you try to smile, "I'm sorry. I just... don't have any friends."

"You don't have any friends?" She says without a hint of sarcasm, "well, I'd love for you to be mine so... wine or water, hon?"

You chew your lip and real curve takes over your lips, "I'll try some more wine, if that's okay."

🌻

You feel fuzzy and bubbly. Like you could float or even fly. Music pulses in the air, beats you've never heard before, a melody that has you twirling around. Thrud dances around with you in the space of the villa, her laughter mingling with yours.

You've never felt like this, free. It's as if all your troubles are gone, as if you're not you, as if you were never sad or mad or anything else.

You stumble over your own feet and she catches your arm before you can tip over. You giggle again as both of you nearly collide with the table.

"You are wild," she growls at you, "who knew the little mouse had it in her?"

You roll your eyes at her, "I always wanted to be fun."

"You are!" She slurs, "trust me."

"No one lets me be fun!" You pout and turn away from her, reach for the bottle. It's empty as you tip it up. "God. Fuck!" You cover your mouth guiltily and let the bottle roll across the table, "oh my."

She laughs and you can't help but join in, ripping your hand away from your mouth, "fuck, shit!"

"Oh god, stop it," she clenches her sides.

"I never, I never swear," you whisper, "it's... so cool."

She laughs again and shakes her head, "I won't stop you. Jeez, sounds like you've been living in a convent."

"My mother," you hiccup, "she's an old nun. Never let me swear or... wear anything pretty... or-- or--" you feel it all brewing to a boil. You fall onto a chair and clutch your head, "she didn't love me. She doesn't love me."

It goes silent as you hunch over and hold your head. Thrud comes to you, her hand resting softly on your shoulder as she coos at you, "I'm sorry, hon, please don't think about it now. Not like this."

"I'm sorry," you sit up and swipe your fingers over your lashes, "I'm stupid."

"No, no," she gets to her knees beside you and rubs your arm, "you've been hurt. That's all, baby."

"I'm grown, I just needa suck it up."

She scoffs, "suck it up? I hope that's not what my uncle's been telling you."

"No, no, no, he's so nice. He... he listens to me," you wiggle your nose, fighting the tide of tears, "he's too nice to me. He's..." you smile a little, "he's a good doctor."

"Good," she says, "that's very good."

"It's Thor," you eke out and quickly swallow up your voice.

"Thor? Dad?" She wonders, "what do you mean?"

You blink, long and hard, then look at her. You want to say it all. He's scary, he's confusing, he's suffocating. But she's his daughter and she loves him. And he loves her. You can't say it because it might not even be true.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"He saved me," you shrug, "from mom."

"Oh," her hands brushes down your arm, "that's good."

A sudden pounding comes at the door and you feel it in your chest. You whimper and knot your fingers over your chest, letting out a high-pitched squeal. Thrud looks up, her eyes smoky as she stands and wobbles around the chair.

She crosses the villa and grabs the iron hand, pulling open the heavy wood door. Her father waits on the other side, as if summoned by your mention. You cower and refuse to look at him.

"You two, it's late--" he stops short, "Thrud, is she..."

"She's okay, daddy, we're just having fun."

"How much have you given her?"

"Daddy, get out, we're young, we're just--"

"Thrud, you don't understand, she can't drink that much on her meds."

"Oh, uh, I didn't know--"

"You didn't give me time to explain, did you?" He snaps.

"Alright, you don't have to be so rude," she whines drunkenly.

"I should take her to her villa, look at her--"

"She can stay here, I'll keep an eye on her--"

"You're drunk too."

"Daddy, I said get out," she stomps her foot and latches onto his arm as you finally glance over.

"You don't underst--"

"I understand, just fine. I can take care of my friend," she insists, "hon," she inserts herself between you and Thor, "do you wanna go or do you wanna stay?"

You look between them. Thrud sways slightly, cheeks flushed, and lashes drooping, but Thor stands with a dimple in his cheek and a tick in his jaw. That same anger that lingers just under the surface. You hang your head and sniff, "I wanna stay."

"See, daddy, now good night!" Thrud says, "ugh, you always spoil the fun."

"K--" Thor begins and stops himself, "alright, fine. Just... no more. And go to bed."

"Nightttttt," Thrud sings as she ushers him to the door, snapping it shut at his exit, "I hate when he does that."

[nycnomad]

We went to California for my work trip, and it really was great leaving from our little airport with its 7 gates down here in Florida. (I didn't get groped by TSA!) We spent 4 days in Napa, visiting the vineyards where we're members, drinking so much great wine, and eating so much great food, then my work event went great, and then we went back home to NYC for two weeks for Thanksgiving with my husband's family and to see all of our friends.

It was a little peek into what our life might be like if we lived in Florida full-time and just went back to NYC now and then. We went to our usual bar trivia and some movies at our favorite theater, but then I also went to a 2 Michelin star $700pp tasting menu with one of my co-workers (work paid, don't worry!) and we went to one of the holiday markets with my husband's sister who was in town from Poland. So, partly everyday things and partly NYC-specific things! I'm a little jealous of our friends back there hanging out without us, but I'm also very happy right now to not have any social responsibilities and to be able to eat a little lighter and focus a little on my YouTube channel (that's been growing!).

Anyway, I was inspired to post because I woke up this morning and the sun was shining in through the balcony doors, and I stood in front of them and watched the ocean waves hit the beach as I put on some pajama pants. And I love waking up in my NYC apartment, too, but there's something special about walking around with no pants with my wide open windows and knowing that no one can see me! 🙂

Also, we bought our first-ever air fryer, and because my husband loves a gadget, he's almost exclusively been the one to use it. And because it keeps setting off our smoke alarm, he's been obsessively cleaning it. He does a ton around our house in NYC, but cooking and washing the dishes is usually my domain! It's been a nice break for me.

And one more thing: I need to renew my passport, so yesterday we took my photo and then went to Walmart to get a money order to send with my application, and then we went to Office Depot to print out my application, and then we went to CVS to print out the photo, and then we went to the post office to mail everything. And everywhere we went, people were SO NICE. Employees went out of their way to help us at every store, like they were just INTERESTED in us and doing their jobs. People said hello to us when we walked into the stores. There are of course amazing employees in some NYC stores, but a lot of people act like saying hello to you even when you're literally standing in front of them at their register is just out of the realm of possibility. I don't know if people outside of NYC just have better manners or are just less tired because they don't have to deal with as many customers, but it is REFRESHING.

Okay, enough of my blathering, off to read your posts!

[trulybetty]

oct' 15 x first wine

Prompt: first wine Pairing: sequins!joel miller x gn!reader Word Count: 885 Warnings: questionable outfit choices, lost luggage, wine drinking, joel being his sequins self (slightly ooc? who knows this is no outbreak joel) unbeta'd here and barely read through, playing fast and loose with actual season dates of wine production - mistakes are my own. Summary: first of all thanks to @rhoorl for inspiring this with this picture - so imagine that being your Joel on vacation in Tuscany, exploring wineries in celebration of Vino Novello

x. masterlist

The hotel suite was lush, two bedrooms and a spacious living room area with floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. The Ponte Vecchio was framed through the windows so that when the sun hit the water in the late afternoon it framed the old brick bridge and the tourists that flock to it in a soft glow. You’d spent the night before on the balcony with a glass of wine, a blanket pulled from the bed wrapped around you as read your book, everyone else sleeping off jet lag. 

The historic hotel had an air of old worldly charm with modern amenities.

“Look, I love you. You know that right?” You bit your lip, “But I’d promise to do whatever it takes for you not to wear all of this ensemble all at once.” you pleased.

Joel held his arms out and looked down at his outfit, “What’s wrong with it?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“What’s right with it?” Sarah shouted from where she lay across the plush sofa where she was scrolling through her phone.

You had warned him several times to pack an outfit in the carryon, just in case you’d told him. It’ll be fine he replied, what could go wrong? Well somewhere between the stop over in New York and the flight to Rome, his suitcase had gone AWOL. Not the start you’d anticipated for this family vacation, an invitation to celebrate your parents anniversary alongside them.

At the airport dressed only in the t-shirt and sweats he’d travelled in for almost twenty hours you’d left him to his own devices to navigate the airports stores to see if he could find any clothes that would make do while you navigated putting a claim in for the missing luggage.

You hadn’t been prepared for what he’d brought back.

Joel gave a playful glare in Sarah's direction, adjusting the rim of his hat slightly. The ensemble, consisting of a plain white t-shirt (the concierge had arranged for a fast turnaround on the dry cleaning of the clothes he’d arrived in), vibrant green and blue patterned shorts, paired colourful striped socks (a gift from the past fathers day from Sarah) and the white runners he left the house in the day before.

“Dad, you look like a dad. Like, the epitome of a dad on vacation,” Sarah teased, her head now poking over the back of the sofa as she suppressed her laughter, hands over her mouth.

Joel mockingly pouted, “Well, I am a dad. And I am on vacation, so…”

The first wine of the season celebrations were underway. Harvest season started in August, and followed through until October. In Italy crowned as Vino Novello, it marked the end of the harvest and translated as young wine. Grapes that had been picked at the start of the harvest and fermented for twenty days before being bottled and sold, young wine.

Your parents had insisted that Sarah spend the day with them taking in as many tourist attractions as they could, and would be with them throughout the night, per their eager request. As snowbirds living much further away than Austin, they wanted to spend as much time as possible with their only grandchild, and Sarah was equally enthusiastic.

You’d barely been able to take in the vastness of the winery and its stone villas before a glass of wine had been offered. Both you and Joel had accepted, and with your arm in his, you meandered through the vineyard, feeling the soft earth beneath your shoes and the warmth of the Tuscan sun on your face.

By evening, the both of you were slightly tipsy, having tasted some of the finest wines the region had to offer. Somewhere through the afternoon, you had procured Joel’s hat which was now perched atop your head, slightly askew. The Tuscan sun painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and deep purples as it began its descent, casting long shadows over the rolling hills.

Joel leaned in, his arm across the back of your chair, his breath hot on your ear and you could smell the sweetness of the white wine from dinner.

“I think I recall you saying something about doing whatever it takes for me not to wear this outfit again.”

You giggled, feeling light and carefree. “Did I say that?” You leaned into him, basking in the warmth of his presence.

Joel chuckled, his fingers trailing down your arm, “You did indeed promise darlin’.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, despite only having yourself to blame for the predicament you were presented with. However you laughed, taking another sip of your wine. It was a fruity red, and it left a warm sensation in your chest.

“How about this,” his voice husky in your ear, your knees feeling weak and thankful for being sat down, “I’ll take off one offending item for whatever it is it’ll take to get it off of me.”

You raised an eyebrow, while your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, “Is that your final offer Miller?”

He picked up his wine glass and settled back into his seat. His eyes darkened, and he leaned back in to make an amendment to cashing in on your promise. “Shorts will be the last to go.”

[ratsoh-writes]

Kas giggles and leans into the kisses.

Kas: Hmm, I have to say I am rightfully seduced~

Kas proceeds to lean forward and kisses his cheek.

Kas: You wanna stop here or do you plan to seduce me further~

Kas wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t being forced to do anything and they can stop if he wants.

Cider: WANNA TAKE THIS TO MY ROOM?~

At your eager nod, cider stands up, placing his hands under your bum so he can walk with you still wrapped around his waist.

The house thankfully seems empty as he walks down the hall, finally stopping at a dark wooden door. Cider lives in the family compound on the vineyard. A series of houses line the road leading into the grape fields, all quite large. His room is on the first floor of this home.

He does regretfully have to put you down so he can have a hand free to open the door. Ciders room is simple but cozy. The walls are cream with a wooden trim matching the floors and doors of the house. The bed has a dark blue comforter. In the middle of the room is a circular table with the boxes of the board games he loves along with one still out and open

Cider looks a little shy now

Cider: UH I SHOULD’VE CLEANED A BIT MORE, I HOPE ITS OKAY-

There is a pair of jeans on the floor, and his work boots aren’t put away, but aside from that and the board game boxes, it really isn’t that messy

[con-gee]

heavy eyes, shimmering lights | robert fischer x reader

summary: "i had all and then most of you, some and now, none of you." (1k)

tags/warnings: song fic ish, canon-divergent, ambigious plot about reader, ehh pretty angsty, there's definitely some yearning, dreaming, pretty boy rich boy robert fischer from the movie inception (2010), half proofread, i havent been writing this is pretty rusty a/n: shoutout to chris nolan and his college years lucid dreaming

The nights are longer than the days, surprisingly for Robert.

In the office, it's all just consistent frigid conference rooms with tepid conversations about a stakeholder's status. A dry joke accompanied by dry laughs. Leaving fingerprints on the glass table. Reading the same corporate vocabulary on screens and prints. Drinking the same brew of coffee on the same mug. The same headache at around 3 o'clock.

Maybe it changes once in a while, Uncle Peter coming in and opening the whiskey that's only ever touched by Uncle Peter. Robert gives in and drinks what's poured in his glass, he leans back on his chair, he watches and listens to his uncle on the apparently ergonomic sofa. Something about the investment on earth elements.

Robert gets one last cup of coffee for the day, but this time on a to-go cup, and leaves the building as the sun sets. His driver greets him and he greets back. He arrives at his penthouse's building. Robert thanks and bids the driver goodbye for the day.

There's not much he does once he's home for the day. He lives alone, he doesn't have a pet, he doesn't have anyone to call nor to come over. It's quiet and empty.

Robert changes into softer clothes, much softer in comparison to the thousand dollar, special tailored suits. He cooks himself dinner. He eats the said dinner on his nice couch and turns on the grand television. He stops flicking through the channels when he stumbles upon the National Geographic, an episode about domesticated cats, it seems. Robert likes cats, he thinks, he's pretty sure he isn't allergic. He should maybe get a cat.

He forgets that he almost did get a cat, once.

The dishes are clean, the kitchen is kept tidy, he disregards the bottle of wine that's sitting on the counter he recently got as a gift from a distant aunt. Something about a dream vineyard and Maurice.

He stays in the living room and grabs one of the books on the coffee table. That coffee table with a few books scattered on it is one of the only unwinded parts in his house, anywhere else you look you'd think it's a new purchase from a real estate magazine. Robert attempts to read a few more after his third page, but his eyes are growing heavier and heavier.

Next thing he knows, he's in the shower.

The water runs through his body but he's aware of the steam clouding the bathroom. The glass walls are fogged, and his hair is thoroughly rinsed. Robert turns off the shower and steps on the rug, reaching for his towel. He messily dried off his hair as he heard a voice from outside the bathroom door.

"Bobby! The popcorn's ready, come on!"

The towel is wrapped around his waist as he goes on to step outside the bathroom, flicking the lightswitch off on his way. He calls out, "Coming, sweetie!" as he quickly put the clothes that were laid out on the bed. Robert smiled to himself.

He makes his way down to the living room. The only light sources were from the city beyond the glass walls and the big television. Robert sees you on the couch, bundled up in the adorned fleece blanket with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. You lift the blanket up for the space right next to you, beckoning him to sit exactly right there.

"Missed you, cuddlebug." You say. He smiles.

"Missed you more, darling." It slips out so naturally from his lips, the sweet pet names. He feels his chest narrow, for some reason.

Robert takes the space beside you, his hips and thighs touching yours. He crosses his legs under the blanket and puts his arm behind your back, his hand reaching your right shoulder. You rest your head by his collarbone as you press play on the remote. He naturally presses a kiss on your forehead.

"You smell nice." You cozy up to him, eyes set on the screen. The colors illuminate against your faces, and Robert can imagine how your eyes would glimmer in the brightness.

"Used your soap." He hummed as he heard the crunch of popcorn. You only let out a sound of amusement as you continued watching the movie.

Robert looks down and reaches for your free right hand. He caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. The softness made him warm all of a sudden.

An ambulance's red and blue lights were bright enough to catch Robert's eye. He follows it through his vision as it traverses to a farther place. A sudden movement against his lap takes his attention back to what's in front of him.

You set the bowl of popcorn on your side as the white cat stretches across his thigh and yours, and you coo. "Hello, sweet baby." You pet the back of its ears. Robert then also pets the cat on its back, feeling its soft, white fur.

"You have me, don't you Robert?" You say without looking at him, continuing to give the cat your attention.

It catches Robert off guard, furrowing his brows. "What was that?"

"I mean," The white cat curls up on your lap and closes its eyes. "You have some of me." You turn your head to your left, though not meeting his eyes and kiss the side of his neck. He didn't feel tickled, he's surprised.

"What?" He's confused and looks at you, meeting your eyes. They're looking right back.

"Do you have me, Robert?" He first thought that it felt weird that you were calling him Robert.

"Robert?" You put your hand on his cheek—

His eyes open and feels an abnormal pulse on his chest. There's sweat on the back of his neck and goosebumps against his soft sweater. The sky is still dark and the lights of the city shimmer against his eyes. They still feel heavy.

The book rests by his abdomen, leaving some pages creased. He picks it up, correcting the pages to normal and closes the book.

A small white paper sticks out from the edge.

"You have me, Robert. I love you." It has written.

He had you, he remembers. But now, it seems that he doesn't anymore.