runningwithcoffee

[runningwithcoffee]

"I didn’t know where this road would lead. I didn’t even know what tomorrow looked like, maybe Ben doesn’t even want this but right now, in the golden light of late afternoon, watching my son and his father laugh under a blue sky, I let myself feel it."

I've been reading this but haven't been able to comment due to life getting in the way. I'm loving how beautifully it is written and how realistic it is; you can't just pick up where you left off, and both Ben and Y/N have got a lot of genuine problems to work through. I look forward to more 🥰

Thread of Fate - B.Chilwell ✨ Chapter Four - A Little Too Domestic

Pairing: Ben Chilwell x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Fluff and a teeny bit of angst?

Authors Note: Hi! Here's the fourth chapter! Things are moving along for the two 🤭

Feedback is always appreciated, please do leave some 🫶🏻

This series will include angst, fluff, smut and other themes, under 18s dni.

Chapter Three

The wind was soft, warm, and full of spring. It tangled in Elijah’s hair as he sprinted across the field, his laughter echoing like it belonged here in the open air, in this moment. I sat beside Ben on a worn green bench, its metal sides heated by the sun, he had one ankle resting across his knee, relaxed in a way that was so unlike the version of him I’d seen the other day with all edges and guarded eyes. Now, he looked…here, present, like he was trying, like he wanted to try. 

“Elijah’s fast,” he said, shielding his eyes with one hand as he watched him chase a butterfly and kick a ball at his feet. 

“He gets that from his dad” I murmured “The stubbornness too”

Ben smiled gently, glancing over at me “And the joy? He get that from you?”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t, really. I wasn’t sure joy was something I’d held onto long enough since Ben to pass on, but watching Elijah run like the whole world was his to chase…maybe it didn’t matter, maybe he found it anyway. We sat in silence for a minute, not awkward, just full. The kind of quiet that holds weight and history and the words you’re not sure how to say.

“I missed this” Ben said softly, leaning back fully against the bench “Just being outside. Not worrying that the press will show up and not having to keep an eye out, not having to pretend”

My throat tightened. I didn’t know which part hit me harder, the honesty or the fact that I’d been holding my own breath for so long, I’d forgotten what it felt like to let it go. He looked over at me again, like he could feel the shift in me. He knew me once upon a time and I haven’t changed all that much.

“Hey, what is it?” he asked, and it felt familiar, the same way he used to say it to me, it reminded me of the comfort he once made me feel.

I shook my head, blinking too fast. “Nothing. Just, it’s a lot, sometimes. Seeing him like this, happy, carefree. And you, here. With us, it's weird but it feels nice”

“It scares you” he said, not as a question, as a statement, his blue green eyes staring into mine and god they would be so easy to fall back into. 

“Yeah ” I admitted “It does, it terrifies me”

Because it was too easy to fall into this, to pretend this bench was home and this day was forever. To want things I’d spent years convincing myself I didn’t deserve or couldn’t have. To want things that I made myself stop dreaming about. 

Before he could say more, Elijah’s voice rang out, high and breathless “Ben! Come play football with me!”

Ben turned, grinning. “You sure you’re ready to lose?”

“I’m way faster than you!” Elijah shouted back, already dragging his scuffed football across the grass.

Ben stood, brushing his hands off on his jeans, he glanced back at me “You okay?”

I nodded with a smile “Go, he needs this”

So do you, I thought but didn’t say.

I watched them from the bench, Elijah’s laughter, Ben’s steady footsteps, the way they moved, unsure at first, then in sync, like maybe some things could be relearned. Rebuilt. The ball flew, was chased, missed, kicked again. Shouts and cheers and the kind of connection that felt like it belonged to another life, another version of us, one that hadn’t broken. I felt almost like this is what we were meant to be, Ben and Elijah bonding over their love of football, running around a field with each other. And I felt it, the crack in my chest. Not pain exactly, but a tenderness. a grief for what we lost, of what I stopped us from having, and a longing for what maybe, just maybe, wasn’t lost forever. I didn’t know where this road would lead. I didn’t even know what tomorrow looked like, maybe Ben doesn’t even want this but right now, in the golden light of late afternoon, watching my son and his father laugh under a blue sky, I let myself feel it. I let myself feel hope. 

------~--------

Ben jogged back over to Elijah after another goal, arms raised in mock triumph while Elijah flopped dramatically onto the grass.

“I let you win” Elijah insisted, chest heaving with laughter.

“Sure you did, champ,” Ben replied, ruffling his hair.

I couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. It felt foreign, almost fragile, like something newly grown, not yet rooted, but it was real. It was almost familiar. Then Ben looked over his shoulder at me, and something passed between us. Not just the usual look, no this one felt like an invitation. He cupped his hands around his mouth “Hey! What about you, y/n? You in?”

Elijah’s head popped up immediately. “Yeah! Come play with us mummy!”

I hesitated, instinctively. Like I was more comfortable in the background, safe behind the sidelines but the way they were both looking at me, expectant, hopeful, open, it stirred something in me “Alright,” I called, standing “But don’t go easy on me”

As I walked over, Ben handed me the ball. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

I gave him a look “I’ve had years of chasing Elijah around the house, you’re both in trouble"

That made Elijah giggle, and God, that sound. It felt like a balm to something inside me I didn’t even know needed healing. 

We played, awkwardly at first, I kicked the ball too hard, tripped over my own foot, laughed until I couldn’t breathe. Elijah shrieked every time he got the ball, and Ben…Ben watched me in a way that almost undid me, like I was some kind of miracle just for being there, laughing like that, and I forgot to guard myself. Just for a little while, I let it all go the pain, the past, the fear and when Elijah collapsed in the grass again, breathless and grinning, I lay down beside him, staring at the blue sky overhead, our arms touching.

Ben stood over us, hands on his hips, smiling like we were his whole world. Maybe for a moment, we were. Elijah reached for my hand, pulling it into his.

“Mummy?” he said, voice quiet now “This was the best day, thank you”

I turned my head, meeting his eyes “Yeah, baby. It really was” and when I glanced up at Ben, who was now sitting beside us, knees bent, watching me like he wasn’t quite sure how we’d gotten here but he didn’t want to let it go, I felt the tears sting again but they were good ones this time. I grabbed Ben's hand and gave it a little squeeze. It felt right in that moment, but that’s the thing with moments, they always end. 

The sun was slipping down now, casting everything in gold. We walked back toward my house slowly, shoes scuffing the path, Elijah swinging our hands between us like a pendulum of leftover joy. Ben trailed a little behind, kicking the football gently with each step, like none of us wanted the afternoon to end. Elijah let go of my hand and jogged back to him and I heard the murmur of their voices, low and conspiratorial, and then “Mummy?”

I turned, catching the slight mischief in his grin, the way he looked when he was about to ask something big but the face I can't say no to “Yeah?”

He looked up at Ben for a second, then back to me “Can Ben stay for dinner? Please”

The question hung there, suspended like the breath I forgot to take. Ben stilled, his eyes flicking to mine, unsure. I should’ve answered right away but I didn’t because I felt it, the shift in the air. The way Elijah looked at me with such unfiltered hope and the way Ben waited without expectation, but also with something like longing.

“You said we have spaghetti and Ben likes spaghetti, right?” Elijah looks up at Ben with hopeful eyes. 

Ben smiled softly down at him “I do. A lot, actually”

Elijah looked back at me with a wide smile "see? And we can cook it for you mummy" he offers

I swallowed, my mind tried to think practically, we hadn’t planned for this, the table wasn’t set, everything would feel…loaded, but then I looked at Elijah, t his flushed cheeks, his messy hair, the light in his eyes that hadn’t dimmed all day and I realized I couldn’t say no.

“Yeah” I say “He can stay"

Elijah cheered and ran ahead, already narrating our dinner plans to the clouds.

Ben’s eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering there "You sure?”

“I’m sure” I said, and it felt truer than I expected "only if you want to?" 

"I would love to"

We walked in silence after that, but it wasn’t empty. It was full of everything we didn’t say, everything that lingered between laughter and grief, between what we used to be as just us two and what we might still become as a family. 

At home, I watched from the door as the pair cooked together, Elijah adding in the ingredients slowly while Ben guided him, like this was normal for them, all while Elijah asked Ben about football and Ben asked him about school. It just felt like something…was healing. 

After we'd eaten dinner, the house was quiet again, except for the low hum of the dishwasher and the occasional creak of floorboards settling. Elijah had finally fallen asleep, curled up under his dinosaur duvet, one arm flung above his head like he was still mid-kick in his dreams. I lingered by his doorway for a moment, just watching his chest rise and fall, the way his lips parted slightly in sleep. When I walked back into the living room, Ben was sitting on the sofa, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely threaded together and he looked up as I entered, offering a tired but genuine smile. “I forgot how much energy kids have” he said with a low chuckle “I think he wore me out more than a full 90 minutes on the pitch"

I smiled faintly, sitting down beside him and tucking one leg underneath me “He liked playing with you, he was still talking about your ‘epic goalie dive’ while brushing his teeth”

Ben grinned, but it faded quickly, replaced by something softer “Thanks for letting me stay for dinner”

“You’re welcome” I said, eyes dropping to the hands in my lap “He didn’t want the day to end”

A beat of quiet settled between us, not heavy, just still, comfortable in a way I didn’t expect “I kept thinking about you, you know” he said finally “the day you left. I didn’t even know you were pregnant. One minute we were good, and then I fucked it up and you were gone, the house has felt so empty the last five years”

I bit the inside of my cheek, guilt welling in my throat “I know. I was angry. I didn’t know what you’d say. What you’d do if I told you and you'd just told me you didn’t love me. We weren’t exactly ready for a kid, Ben”

“We weren’t” he admitted “but you didn’t give me a chance” that landed like a stone. I nodded, slow, swallowing the lump rising behind my ribs.

“I thought I was protecting him and maybe, in a way, I was protecting myself too. I didn’t want him to be the only reason you stayed"

Ben leaned back, running a hand through his hair “He wouldn’t have been, you would've been”

“I know that now”

Another silence passed, outside, a breeze fluttered through the trees, their shadows dancing softly against the window. “He’s amazing, y/n” His voice cracked just slightly. “And I hate that I missed it. His first words. His first steps. His first fall off a bike, probably"

“You would’ve loved that story” I said with a laugh that caught on the edge of a sigh “He rode straight into a bush and at full speed”

Ben smiled again, but his eyes were glassy “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. Do I just show up again? Am I even allowed to?”

I turned toward him, my chest tightening “Ben…I don’t know the perfect way to fix this. But I know Elijah needs you, he already likes you and you were so natural with him today, like it wasn’t even your first time”

He looked down, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life but then he looked at me like I was someone worth looking up to, and…I’d do anything to be that for him”

 I reached out without thinking, placing my hand gently over his “I want that too” I said quietly “I want you in his life, If you’re ready for it”

Ben looked up at me then, eyes searching mine, not angry, not bitter, just open and honest. “I don’t know what this means for us” I added, voice barely above a whisper “but for him… we can try, we have to try”

He nodded, his fingers tightening just slightly around mine “yeah, we do” Ben’s thumb brushed lightly over the back of my hand, slow and uncertain, like he was afraid I’d pull away but I couldn't even if I wanted to “I missed you,” he said softly, like the words had been waiting years to fall from his lips “and not just because of Elijah. I missed you, y/n”

I inhaled shakily, eyes on the way our fingers had somehow threaded together. My voice barely found the strength to answer “I missed you too”

His gaze lingered on me, searching, gentle, full of something deeper than nostalgia, something that felt dangerously close to longing “you still feel like home" he murmured.

My eyes met his then, that familiar flicker in his expression, part hesitation, part hope. It was the same look he used to give me in the earliest hours of morning when we were just laid in bed, lost in each other, when everything was quiet and soft and real. The same look that made me fall for him once.

He leaned in, just slightly, it wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t a question. It was a moment suspended in time, his breath mingling with mine, eyes dipping briefly to my mouth, every inch of space between us charged with history and heartache and the aching possibility of something new.

I closed my eyes and then I pulled away. Not far away but enough “No” I whispered, the word catching in my throat “Ben…we can’t"

His brows pulled together, not in frustration, but confusion, hurt, like he hadn’t prepared himself for the distance I’d just drawn between us, his forehead resting against mine for a moment. 

“I’m sorry” I added quickly, my voice trembling “It’s not that I don’t feel it. God, I do, but we can’t blur the lines, not now, not while we’re in the moment, it wouldn’t be right. We need to focus on Elijah”

He exhaled, looking down, nodding once and pulling away, the hurt didn’t disappear, I saw it, etched into the corners of his mouth, tight in his jaw, but he understood. I could see that he did. 

“We’ve both changed” I said, more to myself than to him “and I need to know we’re not doing this just because we’re scared…or lonely…or in a moment…or trying to hold on to something that isn’t there anymore"

His voice was quiet “and what if it is still there?”

I looked at him then, really looked. The eyes I once fell in love with, looking back at me and maybe it was still there, flickering beneath the wreckage of the years we lost but I wasn’t ready to fan the flame just yet.

“I need time” I said gently “and you need time and space to figure out who you are to Elijah. He has to come first"

Ben nodded, this time slower “Okay” he said, his voice raw but understanding “I understand”

I stood, wrapping my arms around myself as I glanced toward the hallway where Elijah slept just up the stairs and my heart felt like it had been turned inside out, everything exposed, everything trembling.

“I’m not closing the door” I said looking back at him “I’m just not ready to open it yet”

Ben stood too, running a hand through his hair, exhaling hard “I’ll wait, however long it takes.”

And in that moment, I knew he meant it. He kissed my forehead gently, like he used to "Goodnight y/n" he smiled softly down at me, before leaving my house and leaving me stood there with more confusion and questions.

Taglist:

@neverinadream @lovelynikol7 @runningwithcoffee @sunny44 @tyna-19

[runningwithcoffee]

Yesterday my team lost badly. My brain processed this by sending me a dream in which I was 'consoling' the captain.

I should probably get out more (and read less fanfiction) 😉

(he looks like this, if you're interested)

[runningwithcoffee]

Gone to lie down in a dark room.

[runningwithcoffee]

What in the actual devil is going on?

[runningwithcoffee]

If this goes to penalties I'll be hiding behind the sofa.

[runningwithcoffee]

...what in the actual....

[runningwithcoffee]

oh god more penalties

[runningwithcoffee]

The Gospel of Haven, Chapter 3: 'Assimilate', Liveblog Part the First

Continuing my ramblings on @thegospelofhaven. Beware spoilers; if you haven't listened all the way through, you might like to do that first. (I try not to spoil, but it's hard not to when you've listened through the whole series.) These posts are something of a recreation of how I responded to the episodes when they first came out, along with a ton of ramblings on my personal opinions about things, because this is Tumblr and I can. Transcript here: Season 1 Transcripts

"Sometimes, Isiah considered, they really needed to think things through better."

In a better world, Isiah's dry sense of humour would be the highlight of their world, instead of their coping mechanism in a world that doesn't quite want them.

I'll be honest, I'm actually struggling to write anything about this scene between Isiah and their dad Peter because... what can I write that the author and actors haven't put out there? There are universal human stories. The one that goes "parent has child who just isn't quite what they wanted or expected" has been happening since the Stone Age.

"If the anger had hurt, the hope in his voice hurt more. The tiny glimmer, hoping against hope that they would have an explanation."

Especially sad is that all parties involved genuinely love each other. The roads of Haven are paved with bone. The road to Hell is paved with...

"Uncertain faith leads to uncertain flesh. Surely sacrifices wouldn’t be requested from someone who wasn’t good enough...?"

Oww... I'm an Old Person of Tumblr, and I want to take Isiah by the shoulder and say, you know how you think, if you just figure out the rules and play by them, you can slip under the radar? It doesn't work like that. Haven will make you good enough, because it needs your organs, and the mere existence of someone who lives without sacrifice isn't something it can tolerate.

"They’d seen illustrations in a very old book in their Origins of Haven class of an animal called a hawk. It seemed a monster to them, with strange flat structures like layered leaves instead of hair and piercing eyes that seemed to bore into you, even from the page. The book had explained that hawks could see prey from half a mile away. Nothing could escape the gaze of a hawk."

Oh! And now we're on to my pet project, Figuring Out Haven.

When the series started, there were so many possibilities. Was Haven in space somewhere? Maybe a giant space creature? Were we thousands of years in the future, where humanity learned to live as parasites or symbionts with something else? Who knows? But we (like Isiah!) want to find out.

So, this indicates that we're in a post-apocalyptic world, and if it's not Earth, it's a colony somewhere of Earth origin. Something horrible happened on Earth that led to Haven's creation.

I'm feeling a sudden urge to reread 'The Psalms of Herod', not a sentence I thought I'd write.

Dr. Moore had eyes like that. They knew that if she saw them up close, she’d know. Nothing that happened after that could be as horrible as her knowing.

Ironic given how this story will eventually play out.

"Rebecca couldn’t blame Crane for prioritising their god. But she understood that her duty to her congregation and her duty to her god were one and the same. Crane just hadn’t fully gotten there yet."

Few descriptions sum up Rebecca so well. She really, genuinely, loves her god and her people. She is also utterly blind to the fact that other people don't see the world the same way she does. I don't think it's arrogance that means Rebecca sees the world as "my way is the right way because I am Superior, and everyone else is on a journey to be Me". She really can't conceive of there being people with very different value systems (hello Crane!) which might also work.

I am also using italics a lot here, oh well.

"Crane wasn’t helping. As soon as they’d arrived, they’d made a beeline for the heart chamber."

And also, I do appreciate the subtley of the action here. Rebecca is doing all the normal things, socialising, reassuring her flock, noting the importance of the Ladies Volunteer Group, and Crane is all "there is a rotting heart in the wall".

Man, I would love a conversation between Crane and Isiah some time...

...and I have run out of time. Eh, two-parter. Thank you for tolerating my ramblings, more soon...

[runningwithcoffee]

I can't physically cry, but I got as near as dammit at one point during this episode 😥

Rebecca sinks. Isiah rises.

Our season finale, Chapter 10: Separation. Out now on Patreon, July 18th for everyone.

Isiah Whitlock was played by @sassylich

Rebecca Moore was played by Janine Bower

Written, edited and produced by @stardustshimmers

Sound design by Derrick Valen

Music by Dana Creasman

Theme song by @sealsapocalypticmusic

Art by @kalgalen

Our executive producer is Pacific S. Obadiah.

Script editing by Jack Fulmin and Ash Seguinte.

Special thanks to Kevin Whitlock, Meg Molloy Tuten, and Lou Sutcliffe.

A production of Eelsong Studios and @bdisgusting

If you want to support us, please leave a rating or review on Apple podcasts or Spotify, or donate over on Patreon.

Submit questions for our Q&A-

[runningwithcoffee]

I need to lie down in a dark room now.

[runningwithcoffee]

And a Carhatt jacket for Whiskey @breakerwhiskey

It's podcast girls week, so be sure to leave out a pink milkshake for Faustina Fetamine.

[runningwithcoffee]

The Gospel of Haven, Chapter 2: 'Discovery' - Isiah

Continuing my ramblings on @thegospelofhaven. Beware spoilers; if you haven't listened all the way through, you might like to do that first. (I try not to spoil, but it's hard not to when you've listened through the whole series.) These posts are something of a recreation of how I responded to the episodes when they first came out, along with a ton of ramblings on my personal opinions about things, because this is Tumblr and I can. Transcript here: Season 1 Transcripts

"But today, they’d made the excuse of studying for a test with Leah during their normal service time, counting on the meeting of the Ladies Volunteer Group to keep their mother from accompanying them."

As ever, it's funny how Haven's religious practices are so perfectly normal, with choirs and flowers and volunteer groups and whoops, there's a rotting heart in the wall.

I may be reading too much into a throwaway line (which I do find funny), but I find it interesting that Haven has a Ladies Volunteer Group. These traditionally started in churches as a way of tapping into the energies of well-educated and somewhat bored women who for social reasons couldn't work, to keep the church running. (It is not an accident that many churches and other charities started declining not long after the mass entry of women into the workplace.) Haven, however, doesn't seem to go in for traditional gender roles in anything like the same way as many (though not all) real-world churches, who would throw conniption fits at the idea of the most senior religious leader being a woman. It seems like the duty to breed and obey just lands equally on everyone. Ah yes, that well-known 'we'll tolerate you... as long as you fit in' AKA 'but not too autistic'.

"Isaiah stood straight and moved purposefully. They knew from experience that skulking around drew more attention. Instead, they smiled at those they passed, exchanging a word of greeting with classmates or acquaintances."

I referred to Isiah in an earlier post as 'fellow Aspie', which is the terminology I grew up with (born in the 80s, diagnosed in the 2000s) for people on the spectrum with a certain set of characteristics. My terminology, not Haven's, and perhaps a little old-fashioned these days. I doubt I'm the only one nodding in recognition of Isiah's approach to life; wear the mask well enough and you'll find that most people really aren't paying enough attention to spot that you're doing that. Hmm, we have two characters who both wear masks; Isiah to fit in, and Rebecca because it's a requirement of her role.

"The air felt cleaner than the rest of Haven, less stale. The strong iron tang in the air was preferable to the odor of sweat and closeness in the hallways. The quiet burble of cycling blood in the hanging intestinal bags was soothing, and the lettuces and cucumbers were a soft green unlike the red and white that made up the majority of Haven’s spaces."

Clever use of the reader's senses to give us an idea of what it's really like to live in Haven. Doing this blog gives me a real appreciation of the delicate balance between world-building and plot that the writer has to strike here; we need to know enough about how Haven works to buy that it could exist, but not so much that it slows things down.

"Matthew snorted derisively. 'Yeah, the weird green liquid that’s actively leaking into the blood supply. I’ll just mop that up. Why didn’t I think of that?'

Isiah suppressed a pang of hurt. 'Well, you asked for suggestions.'"

The joy of teenage friendships. And, someone else knows that there's something badly wrong with Haven.

"Matthew couldn’t keep the low buzz of anxiety out of his voice. 'But I don’t want to bother him until he’s, you know, back to himself.'

'Of course not.' Isiah agreed. They could tell that Matthew was thinking the exact same thing they were. If he comes back to himself.

Neither of them would ever speak fear aloud, of course. Neither would acknowledge it. But Isiah took his hand with their unwrapped one and squeezed it for a moment before letting go. Hurriedly, they changed the subject."

Note the contrast with Rebecca - and again, as a person on the spectrum, I so empathise with how Isiah has a couple of close friends who get them. Will we see the mysterious Leah some time? Isiah might be wearing a mask a lot of the time, but they do have one person who they're actually honest and vulnerable with, and who genuinely cares for them just as they are without trying to improve or change them. Rebeccca, it seems, does not. One of my headcanons for her is that she's an only child and that Haven's pressure to have lots of kids (which, given the undoubted need to keep the population size within what Haven's closed ecosystem can sustain, says nothing good about how many people really survive after making sacrifice) meant she felt an extra urge to compensate for her parents' "failure" by being the perfect, dutiful, devout, child. Albeit if her sibling shows up in the next episode, I'll accept I'm wrong 😄

'Isiah gave another helpless shrug. "Somebody has to know about it. If it’s interfering with growth..."'

Yet again, Isiah's commitment to truth just won't let them fit in. Another parallel; Isiah's devotion to finding the truth and speaking it is on a par with Rebecca's devotion to Haven.

"Their heart sunk when they realized just how deeply they’d screwed up. They’d been caught."

Oh, dear.

[runningwithcoffee]

The Gospel of Haven, Chapter 2: 'Discovery'

Continuing my ramblings on @thegospelofhaven. Beware spoilers; if you haven't listened all the way through, you might like to do that first. (I try not to spoil, but it's hard not to when you've listened through the whole series.) Transcript here: Season 1 Transcripts

"But the founders of Haven had decreed that nothing was to be spared when the glory of their god was concerned. The surgeon Naomi herself had laid the first panels on which the pulpit rested."

Oh, interesting. The followers of Haven know that their god is a human creation? Does that make Naomi Herself the Creator, or does their founding myth state that she received divine guidance, that God wished her to make a body for Them to inhabit? (Hmm... God in human flesh?) Also giving us something of a clue about the setting; if Haven was created by humans, it's far in advance of any technology humanity currently possesses.

"As a toddler, she’d begged her father to repeat the stories again and again, fascinated by the tales of David the Grower, Esther the Selfless, Simon the Learned."

Given Haven's proclivities, I'm not sure I want to know the details of Esther's story.

"It was her duty and her joy to keep her god and her community healthy and thriving, and she put her all into it every day. What she couldn’t understand was why it wasn’t working."

Ouch. Few things in life are so painful as to commit yourself utterly to a cause you serve with all your soul and to have that cause fail. I feel a lot for Rebecca, misguided as she often appears to be. Also, presumably, why she and Crane keep falling out; Crane doesn't seem to be a True Believer, and is thus much more on board with the notion "it's a living organism; it can get sick and die". Gods aren't supposed to die.

"The scent of Haven and its congregation filled her nose. Iron, sweat, salt. The air was wet and thick as always, but she thought she might be able to detect the sour-sweet tang of sickness."

This world really fills the senses, doesn't it? Between this and the incredibly cramped living spaces, it's no wonder Haven needs its religion to give life meaning, otherwise everyone would be going insane. I wonder if that's why Haven's founders started their church...

"Rebecca shook her head in irritation, then instantly regretted it as her carefully arranged bun loosened slightly. It wouldn’t do at all to appear ruffled. She had to appear calm. If she was calm, her congregation would be calm."

Yes. This, and that little exchange with Harriet, below? That's exactly how being a religious leader, and indeed the leader of any large organisation works. People do take direction from their leaders - I can vouch for the fact that the first thing anyone does when they walk into a church is look around to see 'who's in charge'. As the leader of my own Worship Studies Foundation Course put it, "They want to see that you're human, but they don't want to see you bleed". And yet...

"People were simple. They took direction from those they trusted. She relied on that."

This is one of the biggest traps any leader can fall into, religious or otherwise. Never, ever, think that people can't or won't form their own opinions about you and act on them. You can either reach out to their capacity for independent thought and work with them, or overrule it, but it's always, always there.

"The Heart’s Own Beat was not one of her favorite songs. She found the message obvious and verging on tasteless."

I feel you, Rebecca. If I have to sit through another rendition of 'Let It Be A Dance We Do', I'll... sit there at the front and smile, because the congregation love it, but truly, unsatisfactory hymns and poor singing are one of the banes of a worship leader's life. (Although I'm morbidly curious about the lyrics.)

"She wanted to reach out and place a hand on their shoulder, to reassure them that all was forgiven. But she resisted the urge. At times like these, she could not relinquish any of her authority. She couldn’t share her uncertainty with anyone, even her closest allies. She could not show an ounce of weakness. The position of surgeon-priest was a lonely one, but this was a sacrifice she made and kept making."

Oh Rebecca, you've built the trap you're about to fall into with your own two hands. Keep up the public facade of calm, sure, but a true leader needs to work with a team, not be a dictator. Crane's doubt is what you need to understand this situation, and if you really think you can't manage without them, you might want to tell them that.

Did Ezra Moore ever tell his daughter it was okay to doubt?

Isiah next!

[runningwithcoffee]

In a break from the usual sports-related lunacy, I will be posting my unasked-for commentary on each episode of @thegospelofhaven podcast, because I can. Why this has not taken off yet like Magnus Archives I do not know, but there is still time. There will be total spoilers throughout, read at own risk.

Chapter 1: Incubation

"The heart in the wall was leaking again."

It's always good to start with a mighty opening line that establishes both something fundamental about your world, and hints that there is something desperately wrong about it.

(This line really wouldn't work if it was a pancreas, would it?)

"To reject a replacement would be to reject the very flesh of Haven itself, and that would be unthinkable."

Ah. We're already getting to the Things You Do Not Say.

"Isiah had never been... popular among their peers. They asked too many questions, stared too much, were direct to the point of bluntness."

Hello, fellow Aspie. Also, why do I already have a strong feeling that this is not a survival trait in this world?

"JUDITH: 'You can laze about with your friends AFTER the chores are done, and not before.'"

P J O'Rourke once observed that for horror to work, there has to be an element of the familiar about it, so that the horror stands out. As he put it "it has to be Mom eating snakes in the rec room".

"To sacrifice a part of one’s body for the good of the community was an act of outstanding service. It was selfless. Moreover; it was natural. Every citizen in Haven would be expected to do it at some time in their life. The especially pious or favored might sacrifice several times. It was the highest of honors.

It horrified Isiah."

I'm getting distinct vibes of Silverthorn's Warren.

"But they still walked briskly, frozen smile plastered on their face, in the vain hopes that a little distance from the flags would buy them time to escape the knife entirely."

Alas, Isiah, you're the protagonist in a horror fiction, so I don't have high hopes for you on that strategy working out well.

"Rebecca approved of Gerald. He did his work well, provided Haven with a fine set of children, and submitted to the knife without complaint and with a minimum of whimpering. A model citizen, in her opinion. No wonder he was chosen to be blessed by her scalpel this many times. Gerald had given a lung, a liver, and now his pancreas to their god."

Wait, Haven carries out major organ removals with seemingly no form of restraint or anaesthesia? I find this requires considerable suspension of belief; even the truly devout would surely find it nearly impossible to hold still whilst having your HEART cut out, although it maybe wouldn't fit with Haven's religious 'this is an honour' belief system to be getting out the holy full-body restraints every time they need a sacrifice. Emotionally, though? It makes TOTAL sense.

"The soma lay motionless."

Soma is, famously, the opiate-like drug in Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. How apropos.

"The soma writhed, wriggling and stretching, until it settled into place. Once it was impossible to tell where flesh ended and substitute began, Rebecca took her hand away."

Hmm, so the somas function as substitute organs. Why, then, remove the originals? One assumes, because they don't work quite as well as the actual organs... and if those who have sacrified often die a bit sooner, why, that's surely a sign of divine favour, that they've been chosen to be united with their God!

'I’m not focusing entirely on the bad. There’s so much bad that I can’t think of much good to talk about,' Crane replied, waspish and stiff.

Ah, apparently Isiah isn't the only one spotting that the Emperor has a distinct lack of clothes.

'She wouldn’t be able to induce obedience by appealing to faith alone.'

Oh, Rebecca. Had you but remembered this extremely accurate fact throughout the rest of the subsequent events, things would have worked out quite a lot better.

[runningwithcoffee]

Aww, this is so cute and I love it. (Although I do wonder how Ben will cope when Elijah turns into a tiny ball of rage and tears, as four-year-olds are wont to do from time to time 😉)

Thank you for tagging me!

Thread of Fate - B.Chilwell ✨ Chapter Five - Ice Cream Runs

Pairing: Ben Chilwell x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: cute ice cream runs and some awkward questions.

Authors Note: Hi! Here's the fifth chapter! sorry for the wait! 🤭

Feedback is always appreciated, please do leave some 🫶🏻

This series will include angst, fluff, smut and other themes, under 18s dni.

Chapter Four

3 weeks later 

Ben’s POV:

The bell above the coffee shop door jingled, and Elijah didn’t even look up from his colouring page before a wide smile spread across his face.

“Ben!” he shouted, hopping off his stool so fast he nearly knocked over his juice box. This was a common thing now, I’ve been either coming to the shop after school or going with y/n to the school pick up for the last three weeks now. Elijah and I have formed a small bond that I love, it fills my heart with pride. However, me and y/n still haven’t talked about that night…the night of the almost kiss, the night I told her I’d wait. It’s just been stolen glances and casual conversation and it’s killing me. 

Y/N turned from the espresso machine making my heart doing that weird little flutter thing it always did lately as I send her a small smile. 

“Hey, buddy” I said, crouching to Elijah’s level “that a new drawing?”

“It’s a dragon castle” Elijah said, holding it up proudly “this one breathes strawberry fire, that’s the strongest kind.”

I laughed “obviously, strawberry fire melts everything”

The shop was starting to hum with noise, the grinder whirring, the steamer hissing, the shuffle of customers taking their seats and scanning menus. I’d gotten used to the rhythms here, the way y/n handled it all like she was holding the whole place together with nothing but grit and grace.

Elijah was leaning against the counter, holding his drawing on the counter, his small hands folded over the edge. He was trying to be patient, trying not to whine, but I could see it in his face, that tight little expression of disappointment he hadn’t learned to hide yet.

“Mummy?” he asked, his voice soft.

“yeah baby?” she replied, still moving.

“Can we go get ice cream? The machine is broken”

y/n paused, looked at him with tired eyes and a soft smile that already held an apology. “Sweetheart, I promise we will, but not right now, okay? It’s about to get really busy in here”

He nodded, brave as anything, but his shoulders sagged and he turned away, dragging himself back toward the stool in the corner like it took real effort and my chest tightened a little. I didn’t even think about it, not really. I just moved and crossed the space between us and lowered my voice so only she could hear me.

“I’ll take him”

She blinked, eyes narrowing a touch “what?”

“I’ll take him to get ice cream, it's just down the road, right? We’ll be back in an hour, tops”

She hesitated, that same guarded look I used to know so well. The kind that said she wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, even though she wanted to believe it was “I don’t know…”

“y/n,” I said gently “he’s not asking for much, and you’ve got your hands full. Let me do this, for him”

Her eyes shifted to Elijah, who was now gently swinging his legs, pretending not to care and then she nodded, slowly “just an hour and don't come crying to me when you realise the ice cream shop is like a children's playground, they run around everywhere!"

A small smile tugged at my mouth “I wont, we'll be back in an hour”

I walked over to Elijah and crouched beside him “hey, little man” I said “want to go on an ice cream run with me?”

His whole face lit up, that sadness gone in an instant “yes!”

He jumped down and grabbed my hand without hesitation, like he’d always known it belonged there. We turned toward the door, and I glanced back once, y/n stood behind the counter, watching us go, a look in her eyes I couldn’t quite name, but I knew it meant something was shifting and for the first time in a long time, it felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

-------

Elijah’s hand was small but firm in mine, swinging slightly as we walked down the pavement toward the ice cream shop. The sun was just starting to dip, casting that honey-gold light over the tops of buildings, the buzz of the street faded into the background and all I really heard was his voice.

“I think if I was a dinosaur, I’d be a velociraptor” he announced suddenly.

I looked down at him, grinning “a velociraptor? why’s that?”

“Because they’re fast and clever,” he said proudly “and they work in a team, like me and my friends when we play tag”

I laughed under my breath “can’t argue with that, you’d make a pretty good raptor”

He puffed his chest out a bit, clearly pleased “what about you?” he asked, tilting his head to look up at me.

“What kind of dinosaur would I be?” He nodded  “Hmm… I think I’d be a triceratops” I said thoughtfully.

“Why?”

“Strong. Protective. Bit stubborn, maybe” I added with a chuckle “and always watching out for the little ones"

Elijah’s smile widened, and then he paused, frowning like he was trying to remember something “you said there were dinosaurs in London…” he said.

“There are” I nodded “in a big park called Crystal Palace. They’ve got life-size dinosaur statues, ones that look just like the real thing, you’d love it”

His eyes lit up like I’d told him we were going to space “can we go?”

“Absolutely” I said, no hesitation “one day soon, we’ll go together”

He was quiet for a beat, then said quietly “I’ve never been to London”

I looked down at him, feeling the weight of everything he didn’t say in those few words. The smallness of his world, the things he hadn’t had the chance to do, the chances I’d missed being part of until now.

“Well” I said softly “maybe it’s time you had an adventure”

He grinned again, and we kept walking, the shop just up ahead and even though we were only going for ice cream, it felt like the beginning of something so much bigger. The ice cream shop was cool and bright, a sweet contrast to the summer warmth still hanging outside. The smell of sugar and waffle cones filled the air, and behind the glass counter, rows of colourful flavours stretched out like a treasure map. And just like y/n said, children everywhere.

Elijah pressed his hands to the glass, eyes wide “whoa”

I smiled, stepping up beside him “pick anything you want, the sky’s the limit”

He turned to me slowly, whispering like it was a sacred secret “even two scoops?”

I leaned down “two scoops, extra sprinkles, and maybe even one of those tiny chocolate dinosaurs if they’ve got ‘em"

His grin could’ve lit up the entire shop and after a few minutes of careful, serious deliberation, he settled on bubble-gum and mint choc chip, a questionable combo, but I didn’t dare challenge his confidence. We took a seat in a booth by the window, his legs swinging happily beneath the table as he tackled his tower of sugar. I got a plain vanilla and he gave me a look like I was the most boring person on earth, which is fair.

“Did you really play football on TV?” he asked suddenly, licking a drip before it reached his fingers.

“I did” I nodded “still do, kind of, sometimes"

He tilted his head “do you like it?”

I thought for a second “I do, I love it”

“This is the best day ever,” he declared, legs swinging.

“Yeah?” I said, smiling “because of the ice cream?”

He nodded “and because you took me” he added, without even looking up.

That one hit me square in the chest, he was just being honest. He had no idea what those words meant to me, no idea how long I’d wished for this, just something small, something normal.

“You’re way cooler than most of mummy's friends” he said around a mouthful of cone.

I laughed once “that so?”

He nodded vigorously “you’re like… a superhero, but with football boots instead of a cape”

That pulled a real smile out of me “I’ll take it”

And then, out of nowhere, Elijah said “do you think we’ll go for ice cream in London?”

I looked over at him, heart clenching at how much weight he put into that simple question “we’ll go for ice cream” I promised “we’ll see dinosaurs, and we’ll do everything together, if that’s what you want”

He nodded slowly, solemn “I really want to do that”

A silence passed between us again, but it wasn’t empty, it was full of something real, maybe even the start of something whole.

------

The sun was lower now, casting long shadows across the pavement as we made our way back to the shop. Elijah walked beside me, the remnants of his bubblegum-and-mint masterpiece smeared a little on his chin, one hand grasping a bunch of napkins from the shop and the other still holding mine. He was quiet at first, the kind of thoughtful quiet kids get when their minds are working overtime.

Then, softly he asked “do you have a dad?”

I glanced down at him, his gaze was fixed ahead, swinging our joined hands gently between us “I do” I said “he passed away though”

“Oh” he said, and I could hear the careful sadness in his voice, the kind only children offer when they don’t fully understand grief but still feel the shape of it “was he nice?”

“He was” I nodded “he was kind, funny, too. He always knew how to make you feel better, even when things were rough and he always supported me in everything”

Elijah nodded slowly, processing “I don’t know my dad” he said after a moment “mummy says he loves me very much but I’ve never met him”

I stopped walking, Elijah did too, looking up at me with those wide, serious eyes, so open, so trusting, the double of mine and my heart dropped into my stomach and my voice felt thick in my throat “She’s right kid, he does love you, more than anything”

He tilted his head "do you know who he is?”

I crouched down in front of him, holding his gaze “I do” I said quietly "and if he could be here, he would"

He nodded, slowly, like he understood more than he let on. Then, without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my neck. I held him for a long moment, the noise of the street far away, his little heartbeat pressed to mine. We started walking again, his hand finding mine once more, tighter this time and as the shop came back into view, I knew the moment I stepped through that door, everything would change. We entered the shop, Elijah had rainbow sprinkles on his cheek and a satisfied slump to his shoulders, he ran straight over to the table after saying hello to y/n and pulled his drawing equipment out of his backpack. 

y/n wiped down the counter again even though it looked clean already “so" she said as she looked at me “are you just gonna keep showing up like this, or is there a day you’re planning to disappear?”

I blinked, then leaned my elbows on the counter “that’s a fair question”

She waited “I don’t know what I’m doing here, exactly” I said after a beat “I didn’t plan to stay this long but then I kept thinking about the way Elijah lights up when he sees me and the way you don’t run me off with a broom"

“I could get a broom” she offered.

I smiled “I’ll risk it”

A pause stretched between us, not awkward, but not entirely comfortable, either.

I cleared my throat, swallowing the fear “what if I asked you to dinner?”

Her eyebrows shot up “like a date?”

“No,” I said quickly “I mean, not that that would be terrible, but I meant…as friends. Just two adults who may or may not have shared ice cream duties and one very energetic kid"

Y/N looked at me, her expression unreadable. Then she reached for a napkin and started wiping the counter again, even though it still wasn’t dirty “friends” she said slowly “I’ll think about it”

"good enough for me" I smiled at her, catching the small smile on her face when her eyes met mine. 

Elijah bounced toward us from his table, his voice bright “Oh mummy! we got two scoops! and I told Ben all about dinosaurs!”

She smiled at him, brushing a hand through his hair as he ran around the counter to hug her waist “did you now?”

He nodded, then leaned up to whisper something in her ear. I couldn’t hear it, but I saw the way her hand paused briefly on his back, a flash of something uncertain in her eyes as she looked up at me. I needed to tell her, I cleared my throat lightly and stepped closer to the counter “Y/N…do you have a minute? I need to tell you something”

She studied me for a beat, then glanced at the line of customers forming behind her “can you watch the front?” she called to her assistant, who nodded and slid behind the espresso machine. She wiped her hands on a towel and motioned toward the hallway that led to the small office at the back. I followed her through, the soft hush of the hallway a stark contrast to the busy café behind us. She shut the office door quietly.

“What is it?” she asked, folding her arms. Not cold, just wary, like she was bracing herself.

I rubbed the back of my neck “Elijah asked me some questions on the way back, about dads”

Her face changed instantly, softening with worry “what did he say?”

“He asked if I had a dad. I told him mine passed a few years ago, then…” I hesitated, feeling that strange pressure in my chest again “he told me he doesn’t know his and that you’ve told him his dad loves him, but he’s never met him and then, he asked if I knew who his dad is"

Her eyes dropped to the floor, a flicker of guilt flashing over her features. She didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, hands tightening slightly at her sides. 

“I didn’t know what to say” I continued gently. 

She exhaled slowly and looked up, pain swimming just beneath the surface of her expression “he asked me the same thing” she admitted, voice low “when we got home last week. I didn’t think he’d ask again so soon”

“Y/N…” I stepped a little closer “we have to tell him. He deserves to know and not through overheard conversations or guesses”

She nodded slowly, but there was something unresolved in her eyes, like a weight she hadn’t yet decided to put down and the silence stretched between us. Neither of us said it, but we both knew: the moment was coming and when it did, there’d be no going back.

Taglist:

@neverinadream @lovelynikol7 @runningwithcoffee @sunny44 @tyna-19

[runningwithcoffee]

We will all miss him, but he deserves a bit of a rest.

I was in a bar in Turkey a week ago with my Manchester United- supporting cousin (she can't help it, at least she wasn't born in Sunderland), and the conversation went:

ME: Tough season huh?

HER: Can it be over? Good season yeh?

ME: Yep ::leans in:: also we have Eddie Howe.

HER: OHMIGOD HOTTEST MANAGER IN THE LEAGUE!

ME: Those pretty blue eyes!

HER: ::wistful sigh::

😄

Oh god I'm gonna miss him. August 16th 😭 I'll be 35 by then. Jesus Mary and Joseph

[runningwithcoffee]

Loved this, it is perfect. I was sniffling a bit throughout it...

Thread of Fate - B.Chilwell Chapter Three ✨

Pairing: Ben Chilwell x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Angst, deep talks, slight reconciliation

Authors Note: Hi! Here's the third chapter…and it’s Ben’s POV! This was longer but I had to cut it in half so the next chapter is half ready! Unless you guys like longer chapters? Let me know in the asks! This does move quick to start with but just be warned, there’s a lot in store for these two!

Feedback is always appreciated, please do leave some 🫶🏻

This series will include angst, fluff, smut and other themes, under 18s dni.

Chapter Two |

Ben's POV:

I don’t remember walking home. I just remember the noise in my head. The kid. His face. Those eyes…my eyes. His voice ringing through the shop like a gunshot. Mummy! The way she responded, calm, warm, familiar, and then he called her that again, right before she said I love you. She didn’t deny it, she didn’t explain but she didn’t have to, the maths did itself the moment he told me his age. Four and a bit, nearly five. My stomach churns and my hands feel like they’re buzzing. As soon as I got home, I came straight up to my room, I need a minute. I sit on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor like it might offer answers. Why didn’t she tell me? Wait, maybe she did, that voicemail…the one I never listened to. Shit. I lean back, looking at the ceiling and dragging my hands through my hair as guilt coils in my chest like a fist. I left. I walked away from her.

“Ben, is everything okay?" My mums voice rings from the other side of the door and the click of the door opening indicates she's now in the room.

"I have a son" is all I can say as I stare at the ceiling.

I feel the bed shift slightly and she sighs "I know"

I sit up immediately, what does she mean she knows? “You knew? Mum, you knew he existed and you never told me?”

She looks away, guilt already painting her face. “Yes”

“Why?” my hands run through my hair, my eyes searching for something, closure maybe? “How the hell could you keep something like that from me? He’s my son. You let me go on and live my life for five years, while my child was here.”

She sighs, taking my hand in hers “I was trying to protect you.”

I pull my hand back “Protect me? From what? From being a dad?”

“No,” she snaps, suddenly sharp. “From more pain.” I stare at her dumbfounded “You were shattered when you left her” she continues, her voice shaking now. “You’d just blown up your whole life because you thought you needed something bigger, because your agents and Chelsea wanted you to be single. You left y/n, and she didn’t chase you. And when I saw that little boy in that shop when he was just a few months old, I knew he was yours, I didn’t say anything to her to save her the pain and you'd already made your choice to bow down to their commands, which I am not blaming you for, you needed to do it for yourself and your career at the time” her eyes fill with tears.

“And you didn’t think I deserved to make a different choice?” my voice cracks. “You didn’t think I’d want to come home if I’d known? You didn’t think I’d want to know my son or try fix things with her had I known?”

“I didn’t know what to do, Ben!” she shouts, years of weight in her voice. “She never told me herself so I assumed she wouldn’t want you to know either, yes maybe it was a misjudgement on my part but I was angry with you, I’ll admit it. You hurt her and yourself in the process, and I thought… maybe it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. You’d built this big life, you were playing consistently at Chelsea, you were out having fun and living your life. I didn’t think you’d want to come back just to be told you’d missed everything.”

I can feel my eyes get glassy, my throat works around words I can’t seem to find.

“I was wrong,” she whispers “I know that. I’ve been carrying it around with me every single day”

I sink into the bed, laying back like the weight of everything just hit my chest at once. The pain in my chest is tight, its constricting “I missed five years of my son’s life.”

“You can still be in his life, Ben. If you want to”

“I don’t know how” I admit “I don’t know if she’ll even let me near him”

“Then start small,” she says. “Start with her, you should tell her the truth, about what happened and why you left"

I sit back up, looking at her "I can't mum, she'll hate me even more if I tell her the truth"

She places a calming hand on my arm "She deserves the truth at least Ben, you hurt her that much that she didn’t tell you this big thing, it’s the least you can do" she sends me a reassuring smile before leaving the room.

That night, I don’t sleep. I sit on my chair, phone in hand, typing and deleting message after message. Every version of I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I want to be there sounds like too little, too late.

In the end, I decide I'm going to go to the shop tomorrow to talk to her, we need to clear some stuff up and I want to get to know her again, I also want to get to know my son.

The Next Day

The bell above the coffee shop door rings as I push it open, the familiar chime echoing louder than I remember. It smells like cinnamon and vanilla in here, the same way it always did in our home whenever she was baking…I miss that smell.

Y/N’s behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine with a cloth in hand. Her shoulders tense the second she looks up and sees me.

“I’m not here to argue” I say, my voice soft. “I just… need to talk”

She hesitates, eyes scanning my face like she’s trying to figure out if I’m going to break her all over again. After a beat, she nods toward the corner booth “Sit”

I do. My palms are clammy. My heart's in my throat. I used to feel like a king walking into a room, but right now, I’m just a man with five years of regret sitting heavy on his chest.

Y/N sits across from me, placing a cup of coffee in front of me and one in front of her, arms crossed, eyes unreadable. There’s a wall between us now, not one of anger, but of protection. She’s holding herself together so tightly, I’m scared she might crack. “What do you want to talk about?” she says flatly.

I take a breath “About what happened when I left five years ago, about you, about Elijah if you'll let me?”

She thinks for a moment, I can see the hesitation in her eyes but she nods for me to continue “Five years ago, I panicked okay? That’s the truth of it. I had the career, the pressure, the spotlight but I also had you. And that scared the hell out of me” Her brows draw together, her jaw tight “I loved you so much, y/n, too much, maybe. And when Chelsea offered me that contract there was one stipulation, I had to be single, they wanted the boy that the girls wanted, the guy that would make more women come to games and they said me having a girlfriend was also a distraction and it was stupid at the time but everyone told me it was once-in-a-lifetime. My agent, my teammates, they all said I’d regret staying for love” I laugh bitterly. “Turns out the only regret I have is leaving you”

She blinks, looking away. “You didn’t just leave me though, Ben, you left us. I was pregnant.”

“I didn’t know,” I say quickly. “I swear to you, if I had—”

“I know.” Her voice is small now. “I believe you, you would have stayed”

I sit back, breathing a little easier. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N sighs, and for the first time, she looks vulnerable. She rubs her temple, like the memory is physically painful and it still is till this day, the way I told her I didn’t love her “You made it clear that nothing I said would change your mind that day, you also made it clear that you didn’t want kids yet, we'd only spoke about it a few days prior. You walked away, and I let you because I didn’t want to be the woman who begged a man to stay and I definitely didn’t want to raise my child with someone who only showed up out of guilt, because at the time, it would have been guilt. But you also hurt me massively and as nice as it is to get the truth, it stings just a little more that you chose that life, the lie, over me and that might sound selfish because you deserved that contract, but I never thought you'd give up something you love for it" her voice wavers, but she stays composed. “I left a voicemail, once, but you never called back.”

I wince. “I never listened to it, I couldn’t bring myself to. I still have it in my voicemails”

She gives a dry laugh “Well, that explains why you never called”

There’s a long silence between us. The sun filters through the window, catching in the deep blue of her eyes. She looks exhausted but beautiful and stronger than I remember.

“I missed everything,” I whisper “His first steps, his first words… I missed all of it”

“You did,” she says, voice sharp. “You missed a lot, but that was also on me”

I nod. “I want to be there now, if you'll let me” it felt like I was begging and I guess in a way I was, I was begging for a chance with my son, and maybe a second chance with her but one thing at a time.

She raises a brow. “I don’t know Ben…" she trails off.

"Look y/n, I don’t deserve a place in his life just because I share his blood, I know that but I’m here because I want to be in his life, because I need to be and because the moment I found out about him, everything shifted. My heart wants to know him and I know that it will take time, but its never been more clear to me that I want to be a part of his life because I know that he will be such an important part of it and not just him but you too. You always were an important part of my life and I've never stopped thinking about you" I take a breath, my heart starting to hurt from pounding so hard against my chest. "I know I let you down and I know I hurt you beyond repair, I can’t undo that but if there’s even a sliver of a chance that you will let me be in yours and Elijah's life, I’ll fight for it. I’ll prove to you, every single day, that I can be the man you both deserve. Just… please don’t shut the door on me completely, let me try to be his father, let me show you I’ve changed" I plead, the little voice in my brain telling me I sound pathetic but my heart telling me that it's okay and this is what we need to do.

Y/N doesn’t say anything for a moment, the cogs in her brain turning "so you want to walk in and suddenly be ‘dad’?”

“No,” I say quickly. “I know I don’t get that, not right away or maybe not ever, if that’s what he wants. I just… I want a chance, I want to show up, I want him to know that I’m not going anywhere”

She watches me carefully “If you really mean that, then you’ll follow our lead. Mine and Elijah’s. You don’t get to decide what this looks like okay? You don’t get to waltz back in and rewrite the script”

“I understand,” I say and I mean it. Every single word.

“This is his life,” she continues, voice firmer now “I spent five years protecting him from pain I couldn’t control, I won’t let you come back just to hurt him”

“I won’t,” I promise, leaning forward, elbows on the table “I swear on everything, I won’t. I’ll be whatever he needs me to be even if that’s just some guy that his mum is friends with and who cheers him on from the sidelines for now”

She doesn’t reply at first, just looks at me with a mix of heartbreak and fierce love in her eyes. Then, she nods once, slowly “You can be around, but on our terms. You earn this, Ben, one day at a time”

The weight in my chest shifts slightly. It’s not gone, not by a long shot but there’s space now, space to breathe…to rebuild. “Thank you” I whisper.

She shakes her head “Don’t thank me. Thank Elijah. Before him I would've told you to fuck yourself” a small smile…she hides it quickly but I saw it.

I laugh slightly "I don’t doubt that you would and I would've deserved it" a silence sits comfortably between us “I’m proud of you by the way, for everything you’ve done for him and for yourself” For a second, her guard drops and her eyes shimmer.

"Thank you" she says and stands, starting to walk back to the counter and she’s halfway there when the words slip out of me, soft but too heavy to keep inside.

“Can you tell me about him?”

Y/N pauses mid-step, her back still to me. I see her shoulders rise and fall with a long breath. She doesn’t turn around.

“I just…” I continue, standing now, taking a careful step toward her. “I don’t know anything about him, y/n and I’m not asking to make this about me, but if I’m going to be in his life, I want to know him, not just see him, not just visit but to know what makes him tick, what makes him laugh, what he’s scared of and what he loves.”

She slowly turns, arms crossed, face unreadable “I don’t know where to start” she says

“Anywhere,” I say quietly “Whatever you’re willing to give me”

She studies me for a long time, like she’s trying to decide if she trusts me with this part of her heart because that’s what it is, Elijah is everything to her and anyone can see it in every line on her face, in every protective edge of her voice. Finally, she walks back over, sits across from me again. She leans back in the booth, arms still folded tightly but she does starts talking.

“He hates crusts on sandwiches like you do” she says. “he always has. I tried to sneak them in once, and he acted like I’d betrayed him, had a full meltdown" I smile, the image already forming in my mind and a hint of pride that he's somewhat like me.

“He loves dinosaurs like, obsessively, he can pronounce all their names and will correct you if you say one wrong. He also loves cars and space. He's just recently started to play football at school and he's actually really good” the proud look on her face is beautiful to see but it does hurt to know I missed all this.

“Smart kid,” I say gently.

“Oh the smartest,” she agrees, a soft pride sneaking into her tone “He is usually shy around new people, but once he warms up, he won’t stop talking. He talks in his sleep sometimes, loves to sing in the car. He hates the dark, spiders and bats. He calls my dad ‘Grumps’ because he couldn’t say ‘Granddad' when he was little”

I laugh under my breath. “Grumps? That’s perfect”

She lets out a small laugh too, but it fades quickly as her gaze drifts to the window, distant.

“He does ask about his dad,” she says, voice thinner now “Not all the time but when he sees kids with their dads, or when Father’s Day comes around… he always asks"

A lump forms in my throat. “What do you say?”

“That you’re far away, that sometimes life is complicated and that sometimes mummies and daddies just don’t work out but I make sure to tell him that he is so, so loved.”

“God,” I whisper, my chest tightening. “I’m sorry, y/n, for putting you in that position.”

She shakes her head, biting her lip. “It’s not just your fault Ben, I should've told you but it's not about apologies anymore, it’s about what you do now.”

“I want to earn his trust and yours too, if that’s even possible”

There’s a long pause before she says “It’ll take time.”

I nod, fully understanding “I’ve got time.”

For the first time since I walked in, her expression softens, just barely, but enough to notice. She glances toward the counter. “You want to see a photo?”

“Yes,” I say, too quickly. She pulls out her phone, scrolls for a second, then turns the screen toward me. It’s Elijah, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of cereal and a toy T-Rex clutched in one hand. He’s laughing so hard his eyes are squinted shut and just like that, I feel it. Something deep, something old and new at the same time "That’s him" I whisper "That’s my son"

She doesn’t respond, but when I look up, there’s a flicker in her eyes, something warm, but wary.

“I’d like to learn more” I say, still holding her gaze “When you’re ready”

She gives a small nod and stands "I’ll think about it" That’s all I need. "I need to get back to work but do you want a cinnamon roll? I've baked a batch earlier and I've never had anyone try them and since you always loved them, it might be nice to get your opinion? You were always honest" she offered.

"I’d like that thank you" I smile up at her, feeling a hit in the chest when she sends me a genuine but small smile back.

A few hours later…

I'm wiping my hands on a napkin after finishing the last of the fourth pastry y/n insisted I try when her voice cuts through my thoughts “Would you…wanna come with me to pick him up from school?”

I look up from the empty plate, surprised but trying not to seem too eager “Yeah, I’d love to”

She nods once, casual, but not really. Her fingers are fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. This isn’t casual for her, It’s a door cracked open and I can feel how much it costs her to do it, so I treat it with the care it deserves. We head out into the early afternoon sun, walking side by side along the pavement. There’s a breeze that tugs at her hair, and for a while, the silence is light and unspoken.

“I always forget how quiet this place is” I say, glancing around at the sleepy town streets. “It feels untouched” I do love the way the town is so small though, it’s easy to get everywhere by foot and no one bothers me here, people aren’t asking for autographs or pictures every two minutes, it’s just me, and the people I grew up around.

“Sometimes that’s a good thing. Sometimes it just feels small” she replies, her tone unreadable.

I don’t know why I say it but my mouth is moving before I can think “Was it hard? Coming back here?”

She pauses, then shrugs “Yeah, for a while. I think I hated it at first, felt like everyone was watching, judging, like they had some secret scoreboard for how many times I went out with the pram, if I looked too tired, if I still wore my old jeans" I glance at her, and for the first time, I hear the exhaustion underneath her calm exterior ad the weight she’s carried on her own.

“I wish I’d been there” I say softly

“You weren’t” she replies but there was no anger, just fact “But my dad and Ethan were and I had Ashley and a few others"

“I’m glad” I murmur “that you had them"

She nods, keeping her eyes ahead. Then she adds, almost too casually “I dated someone for a few months, nothing serious”

It punches through me with jealousy or regret, I’m not sure but I keep it from my face “Yeah?”

“Yeah, he was…kind and he tried but it wasn’t right. It’s mostly just been me and Elijah”

“Is that by choice?”

She finally glances at me, and there’s a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes “At first, no. Then…maybe” We fall into silence again. But this one is different, not uncomfortable, just full of things we’re not saying yet. The school comes into view, a low brick building with a playground fence where a few parents are already waiting. She stops just short of the gate, crossing her arms.

“This is weird” she murmurs “Bringing you here”

“You don’t have to explain anything to him. I’m just…here” She looks at me, her jaw clenched for a beat before she relaxes. “No, I think I do. He’s smart” And before I can say anything else, the bell rings.

The doors open and the flood of children spill out like a tide. A few shout goodbyes, others race to waiting arms. And then I see him, Elijah, backpack bouncing, his hair a mess of wind-blown curls, scanning the crowd for the familiar face he knows. He spots her and comes running, the biggest grin on his face but when his eyes land on me, he stops in his tracks, eyebrows bunching in confusion.

“Why is the footballer here?”

Y/N looks down at him, biting the inside of her cheek for a second before kneeling beside him “He’s…a friend of mine,” she says carefully. There’s a hesitation in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed, Elijah squints at her, clearly not fully convinced but accepting it for now. “We were going to head to the park” she continues. “If you’re okay with that?”

His face lights up again “Okay!” he spins around, already talking a mile a minute about something that happened at lunch and how someone dropped their jelly and it made a splat that looked like a dinosaur foot, making sure to specify the exact dinosaur. Y/N glances up at me, an unreadable look in her eyes, a silent warning, maybe, or just a moment of panic.

I nod once, quietly promising that I’ll follow her lead.

One step at a time.

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