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theealbatross · 4 months

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Sebastian x Reader: come one, come all (One Shot)

Plot | Five years after graduating, two kindred spirits are finally getting married and their friends reminisce on their brilliant histories.

or, Lucas Brattleby interviews their friends on their memories and opinions of the future Mr. and Mrs. Sallow as a little gift for the couple.

Tags | None, fluff, overuse of the name Merlin, mentions of slight torture (hexes), lowkey bullying, lowkey codependency if you squint, obsessive behavior (but it's okay cause theyre in love), cursing, Lucas lowkey has a crush on Sebastian lol

[A/N: A line from this story is not made by me, "I would follow him to hell but I wish he wouldn't go there" so to whoever wrote that first just know your quote is the inspiration for this story!!]

“What is this again?”

The brat, Lucas Brattleby, had grown obscenely taller the last time Imelda had seen him, which was about 3 years ago when he was a rookie reporter covering her latest game. She heard he is now a publisher in his own right but didn’t seem to brush off that annoying lint in his voice back when he was still a Gryffindor matching illegal unsanctioned duels in the Clock Tower.

“A small gift of mine for the couple,” he grinned (still as irritating, she’s seen that grin enough times before she got her ass handed to her so forgive her for not being enamored), pushing the pen (recorder?) to her that she reflexively pushed him by his face. “Sorry.”

“And why should I do this?”

“Oh come on, Imelda. It’s just harmless questions to take us back down memory lane. It’ll be played at the reception and I promise I’ll send you everything before I finalize it just so you can make sure –”

“Alright!” She stopped walking, rolling her eyes when Lucas quickly assembled his camera, even quickly conjuring a chair and putting it at the center of the frame. Clearly, he knew she could change her mind at any moment.

“My lady,” he bowed dramatically, pointing a palm to the seat.

“Don’t call me that. You have 10 minutes before warm-ups start.” Lucas raised both of his hands in the air before quickly running behind the camera and clicking the button to start recording.

“I’ll be out of here in 5.” Lucas flipped a paper in front of him. “Let’s start with your name, a little something about yourself and where did you meet them.”

She took a deep breath, putting on the poker face she usually plasters on her face when talking to the media before her many games instinctively. “Imelda Reyes, Vice-Captain of Puddlemere United, and I had the misfortune of being in the same boat as Sebastian Sallow during our first year. She, however, was a little late to the party and wreaked havoc on my life when I was a fifth year.”

Lucas was meticulously writing notes in his fancy notebook.

“What’s the fondest memory you have of the couple?”

She scoffed, not even needing to think about it. “Sebastian? Definitely when he caught a bludger … with his face.” The memory of the cry he emitted pulled a real smile on Imelda’s face. “We almost lost and I would’ve killed him for it but oh was it glorious.”

He remembers this game.

“Didn’t he fall off his broom midair?”

Imelda waved a nonchalant hand in front of her face. “That girlfriend of his caught him with an Arresto Momentum so no harm done – well, except the crooked nose he sported for a week.”

Lucas chuckled with her, “And for the future Mrs. Sallow?”

“Nothing much, most conversation we’ve had was her beating me – beating me in a race, beating me in a duel, Merlin, she even beat me with the class ranking on her first year in Hogwarts. I had a five-year head start how was that possible?!”

Lucas smiled, reading that as bitter her words were she truly held no grudge over it. He was caught off guard, however, when Imelda suddenly had a small, serene smile on her face, her voice when she spoke softer. “She was … it was like I was always chasing after her. We all were, Sebastian always first in the race but … it was fun. I had fun. She made Hogwarts fun. A true competition, yknow? Didn’t have much at that point in my life.”

“Competition?”

“A friend.”

Lucas couldn’t help but be surprised – not everyone can be considered as Imelda Reyes’ friend as picky as she is, though he quickly fixed his face when she shot him a look that told him not to probe. “Did you ever think they would both get married?”

Imelda scoffed out a laugh, crossing her arms. “I knew the only way they wouldn’t get married is if Sallow got assassinated by one of her many admirers and even then I wouldn’t put it past him to somehow turn into an Inferi just so he can still be the one to marry her. I’m honestly surprised he held on for this long, pretty sure he would’ve popped the question the moment we graduated.”

“Technically, he did. They just decided to get married this year.”

That one made her laugh out loud, shaking her head at her old friend’s antics. Of course, she knew those two would get married, basically tied to the hip, always getting in and out of trouble with each other and for each other. Bloody hell, they’d been married since fifth-year and just didn’t know it.

“Typical Sallow,” she caught herself. “Well, Sallows now, Merlin help us all.”

Lucas rechecked everything on his notes, making sure to mark any and all important details of the words his enchanted pen has written for him as he spoke with his former Senior, Garreth Weasley, who was once a thorn on the side of Professor Sharp but was now a renowned Potions Master actively getting scouted by Hogwarts, his blends sought upon by the most respectable wizards and witches all over the world.

“Did I think they would get married? Mate, Sebastian almost bit my head off when I tried to ask her if she would like to be partners for one potion class. One! And we were sitting next to each other! I’m sorry if I thought I was being friendly?!”

Lucas has heard and has unfortunately been a victim of Sebastian’s … tendencies. You, despite being the top duelist in Hogwarts was always, more often than not, partnered with Sebastian in every duel. The one time Lucas had agreed in a quiet solo duel without letting Sebastian know his senior had caught him on his way to his potion's class and nailed him to the wall by his cloak while threatening him to never let it happen again or he will turn him into a pretty outline in the walls of Hogwarts with Bombarda.

He thinks that was the closest thing he had been to peeing his pants.

“Yeah, Sebastian doesn’t have the best track record with friendly males around his girlfriend.”

“They weren’t even courting by then how would I bloody know that –”

“Ready, Poppy?”

Surprisingly, the sweet woman in front of him has been the most difficult to track down. Amongst their mutual friends she was the one he had no idea where to start, especially after his only lead, her grandmother, had no other information to give him aside that the last she heard Sweet Poppy was down South Clagmar Coast ‘doing Merlin knows what’.

Thankfully, the citizens of Cragcroft were a bit more helpful and he was able to send her an owl about his little project.

“Where should we start?”

Lucas made sure she was framed perfectly in the shot before nodding to himself. “Nothing complicated Poppy, just first impressions or any memory you have of the young couple.”

She pursed her lips in thought, nodding to herself, “The two of them have always been terrifyingly intimidating, especially for someone like me. Seemed to just attract attention and trouble on their own – I mean, killing a troll in Hogsmeade on the first day – just a bunch of troublemakers they were. Brilliant troublemakers – which only made them scarier in my eyes.”

Lucas nodded in total agreement but he couldn’t help but squint at her.

“You aren’t exactly innocent, Ms. Hid-a-Hippogriff.”

Her eyes widened, blushing at the accusation. “In my defense, future Mrs. Sallow helped me take care of Highwing.”

Poppy recounted the memories with a smile on her face. Her dainty smile grew bigger as she recapped happy memories she had with her classmates.

“But they’ve always been lovely. Lovely people and an even lovelier couple. Sebastian has always been bright and charming and surprisingly kind for a Slytherin and she … she’s always been unapologetic of who she was. It also meant she never judged anybody for who they are either.”

The woman paused, the smile on her face remained frozen as if she was in deep reflection.

“A true friend – one of the truest I had.”

Lucas was never in their circle, hell, aside from each other and maybe Ominis nobody was truly ever in their innermost circle despite their popularity. At every explosive trouble the two were always caught in he couldn’t help but wonder just what they get up to when they weren’t caught. Even back then he knew he would’ve risked his life and followed them no question asked if it meant his young self got to go to one of their death-defying adventures with them.

But being two years younger was a barrier he could never overcome.

It is refreshing to hear of stories from their friend’s perspective and not in passing in the Central Hall in Hogwarts where it’s all half-true, fabricated, or painfully hyperbolic. Maybe that’s why he had thought to do this, a reporter’s disease of needing to know the truth, the dark side of the coin they hid with their secrets and anonymities passed only in hushed whispers and clandestine meetings with each other.

“Are you excited about the wedding?”

Poppy nodded eagerly. “Oh, I’m extremely happy for my friends! It’s not every day two souls find each other and just not let go. I’m glad they didn’t. After all they’ve been through, they deserve to have each other.”

He couldn’t have agreed more.

“That they do.”

Mr. Lucas Brattleby,

I have received your owl, unfortunately, I will not be able to go back there till the night before the wedding as I still have a business to wrap up here in America. For the questions you sent, I shall send this Howler and you may record it.

I have nothing good to say about Mr. Sebastian Sallow, that boy had done nothing but torment me in my youth. It’s a bloody miracle he had managed to snag the Hero of Hogwarts as his girlfriend – terrible lack of judgment on her part I must say, we all have our flaws – much less agree to be his wife. If there’s one good thing he did do, it was willingly become a lowly servant to such a lovely witch. Least he could do, really.

However, despite their blatant differences and unfortunate similarities I, for one, knew immediately that not even Death could sever such a connection – not if Sebastian Sallow had anything to say about it, and trust me I speak from experience. They’ve fought through detentions, goblins, dark wizards, and a damned troll – I’m sure marriage will be a breeze in a park.

Well, if I’m wrong, then let the future Mrs. Sallow know I would be more than willing to offer a comforting shoulder.

Leander Prewitt Department of International Magical Cooperation

PS. To my darling wife Leonora, light of my life, the last part was a joke and If I somehow disappear it was Sebastian Sallow who did it.

“They give Sebastian too much credit when my dear friend was equally as obsessed about him. Do you remember Allia?”

Lucas snapped his fingers when he finally put a face to the name he hadn’t heard in a while but made sure to look around lest one of the younger students managed to hear such … delicate matters in the DADA classroom. “Didn’t she transfer during your 6th year? Something about personal … complications?”

Natty laughed out loud, doubling over with tears in her eyes. “Oh, that excuse was all thanks to Ominis swinging around his name. Our dear witch hexed poor Allia while she was asleep for trying to poison Sebastian with Amortentia! Sneaked straight into the Ravenclaw tower and cursed her to grow the features of a rat every time she even thought about Sebastian! The only way Ominis could convince our friend to take back the curse and avoid expulsion was at the condition of her transferring and never letting the couple see even her shadow again.”

He never even noticed that his jaw was hanging off his face.

“Oh, if everyone only knew that fights I had prevented if a Junior so much as fluttered their lashes at Sebastian,” she shook her head, still laughing to herself.

Now all the pieces he hadn’t realized were part of the same puzzle clicked on his head. The flat smile on her face that never quite reached her eyes every time they were surrounded by strangers, the grip she always held on Sebastian’s arms no matter where they were going, the ‘promise ring’ Sebastian also wore when traditionally it was just the girl who had it, and the absolute absence of Sebastian’s name when girls talked about boys they fancied in the common room when he was undoubtedly better looking than most students in Hogwarts.

“A jealous witch she was, thinks she’s good at hiding it,” Natty chuckled.

Lucas realized in horror that she had scared off the entire female student body.

“But by the gods was she better at hexes.”

When Lucas had heard that Ominis Gaunt had been working closely with the Minister for Magic and was undoubtedly being groomed to be his successor, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Everyone knew he would be someone important someday so Lucas had damn near lost all hope as he sent an owl to the man.

When he received a reply in a fortnight brought by a regal-looking owl, Lucas thought he must have some soft spot for his fellow alumni. But it would seem the man just had a lot to let out of his chest.

“Oh, the stories I could tell! If I had a knut for every time I had to rescue one of those idiots out of a horrific situation they found themselves in I would be richer than the Blacks!”

He’d never seen his hair this undone in the 7 years they had been on the same campus. Maybe Lucas was just that good of a journalist or maybe it was the half-empty bottle of expensive whiskey that was the reason for his loose lips.

“I mean, Sebastian was bad enough, but once he found someone who would willingly dive with him to whatever dangerous expeditions he found interest in and I was outnumbered it was a bloody nightmare.”

For the first time in his life, he felt pity for the man. It was never really a secret why Sebastian didn’t serve half the detention he deserved nor why neither of them had ever been expelled when a trail of evidence led to the both of them red-handed and always at the scene of the crime. But he has to give it to Ominis … a lesser man would’ve cracked at their mischiefs.

“And Sebastian … everybody knows he would’ve willing let himself be target practice for all sorts of curses if she had asked.”

Lucas can’t even defend his childhood hero. Especially, of the things he had learned from his previous subjects. It would seem even the mightiest of men would always buckle in the face of their true love.

“I-I’m sure they’ve done the same for you,” Lucas winced.

“Oh, they better, with the flaming hoops I had to jump through to make sure we graduated alive,” Ominis waved him off indifferently. “They are my best friends. I would follow them to hell but I just wish they would stop going there for one damn semester.”

Lucas snickered, unfortunately unable to hold it in with just how stressed the memory of the mischiefs his favorite couple got up to has brought Ominis. He was sure the older man would choke him but he just sighed out a laugh until the two of them were laughing to each other.

“I guess they have always been the perfect person for each other.”

Ominis nodded, leaning his head on his fist. “Yeah …”

He threw Lucas a look.

“Do you think they won’t make me their children’s godfather if I begged?”

Lucas bit his lips. “My money is on the eldest getting named after you so …”

Ominis groaned.

Lucas refilled his glass.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc

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t1red-twilight · 5 months

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go ahead and cry

summary: reader and spencer bond over daddy issues.

content/warnings: gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, slight fluff, cursing, trauma, daddy issues on both ends (spence and reader), no use of y/n, mention of self harm, ptsd, dissociation, lmk if i missed anything

notes: i have daddy issues (rip), and i wrote this as a way to cope with that (rip). so, this could be seen as being trauma dumping (do not read if you’re not comfortable with that). i wanted to acknowledge this in a separate section other than just the warnings. otherwise, this fic is very personal to me. i hope you enjoy it! ily!<3

word count: 2k

masterlist

you were driving spencer home from work. the air between the two of you felt tense; it had been this way since the second half of the work day at the office.

he couldn’t remember when you had started acting differently, just that at some point after lunch you started acting more melancholic. you had gotten so good at hiding this aspect of yourself that nobody noticed, or at least nobody that knew you as well as spencer noticed.

the soft hum of the music from the radio filled the silence, but the sadness emanating from you wafted throughout the car. he didn’t know how to address the situation at first, so he just sat and puzzled his mind for any sort of way to talk to you.

you, however, noticed that spencer was stuck in his head. “hey, are you alright?” you glanced over to him quickly then back to the road. you clicked the signal down and changed lanes. the clicking could be heard over the radio.

“uh, yeah? are you okay?” he fiddled with his hands in his lap and looked over at you. the sounds of his rigid breaths thrummed in your ears. you squinted at the lines on the road.

you paused before responding to his question, “yeah! why wouldn’t i be?” your voice was filled with false happiness, and was followed by an even more awkward laugh. this did not go unnoticed by spencer.

you don’t know why you thought you could hide anything from him, but knowing this didn’t stop you from trying to.

“you just seem…off.” he hesitated before continuing. “you’ve felt off for a little while today, actually.”

you hesitated again. “it's not a huge deal, you don’t need to worry about it.” looking over at him, you moved your hand from the wheel to place it in his lap on top of his. you smiled over at him again. he knew it was fake.

the remainder of the car ride went without any speaking. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but the silence felt unwanted on your end at least. spencer’s voice was the only thing keeping you from floating away from the moment.

you were mindlessly driving for the rest of the way home. the world was fuzzy and hazy. muscle memory kicked in and you got home safely despite not being aware of your surroundings or that anything had even occurred.

you were supposed to be going to spencer’s for the night, but you had ended up at your own apartment. “oh shit. sorry, i can drive us back to your place. force of habit, i guess.” you tried to blink off the haze that was cocooning you.

spencer watched you rub your eyes with the tips of your fingers and his brow furrowed. “no, it’s fine, we can stay here tonight. i love your apartment.” he moved his head so that he was looking into your downtrodden stare. he grabbed your hand and squeezed it. the scent emanating off of him was the same clean, linen scent that you had grown to love and gain comfort from.

your hand squeezed his back before you opened your door and grabbed both of your things. you lightly jogged over to his side of the car to open his door, holding out your hand to guide him out of it. once out, you locked the car and you both walked up to the entrance to the lobby.

when you were both in front of the elevator, he turned to you and sighed. “are you sure you’re okay? i don’t want to push you or anything, but you don’t have to feel bad about talking to me. that’s what i’m here for, you know?” the door opened, you copied his sigh.

pushing the button for your floor, you adjusted your hold on your’s and spencer’s things. he kept his head turned looking at you. his big doe eyes were pleading. he just wanted to help you. you had done so much for him, he just wanted an opportunity to return the favor.

he inched his pinky on his right hand over to your left hand. he laced your two pinkies together. your breathing halted before you unlaced your fingers to wipe a solitary tear from your cheek. you took your hand and reunited it with spencer’s, this time you interlocking your hands completely. his pleading seemed to get even more desperate, if possible.

“i just-” you cut yourself off and inhaled deeply. you felt the thin lines of scar tissue underneath your clothes burn. you desperately wanted to itch at them. “my dad called me on my lunch break today.” you stared off into the distance and clicked your fingernails against each other.

it seemed as if both of you stopped breathing for a moment. spencer was about to say something, then the elevator dinged. the walk to your apartment door made room for the silence to temporarily return. the floor creaked as you both approached your apartment.

the click of the your front door shutting prompted spencer to pull you in to a emphatically tight hug. it was the type of hug that filled your soul with warmth and quenched your thirst for closeness. you attempted to choke back your sobs, but when he held you tighter you broke.

you didn’t hug him back from the start, but quickly you dropped the jacket and bags that you had been holding and held him back with an equally powerful squeeze. your emotions took hold and coursed through you wholly.

“go ahead. you can cry, i don’t mind.” you pressed your cheek against his chest and sobbed. the wetness of your tears dampened his shirt. he placed one hand on the back of your head and held it close to the side of his neck. it was a precise movement, but it was not forceful in any way.

“do you want to talk about it?”

“what he said isn’t important. it just made me feel shitty. I can’t think about him without remembering everything- without feeling everything that he did.” you picked at the folds of fabric on the back of spencer’s shirt. the way that he was rubbing circles into your back provided grounding so that you didn’ float away again like you did in the car.

he made his breathing more pronounced and you understood what he was communicating. it wasn’t overly dramatic or mocking at all. your breathing began to match his. he pulled away and looked at you. “do you want me to distract you?”

“if it’s okay, i think i want to talk it out a little bit.” he offered a soft smile, one that you did not have the energy to return. he removed one arm from you back to reach behind him and take off his shoes. you pulled away from him completely and took off your shoes and your sweater you were wearing over your button down.

he motioned towards the couch. you sat next to him on it, and he grabbed your legs and swung them over his lap. you scooted closer to him so that you could lean on him but still look at his face. to an onlooker, this position might have looked awkward and maybe even a little strained and strange. you and spencer often found yourselves sitting like this. it provided everything necessary: a closeness that wasn’t smothering but gave the comfort that you two loved.

he took his left arm rested it around your waist while his right hand sat on your knee. “i know that he’s just trying to be a dad, but he isn’t my dad. he never was; he lost that privilege. he always finds a way to make me feel bad about something, or say something fucked up.” you paused.

“i know you don’t want me to say that i’m sorry, but i am. i’m sorry that you aren’t able to have that relationship with him that i know you once craved.” he took a breath, thinking about what to say. “i do think, however, that it is fantastic that you’re dating me. one, because i love knowing you and knowing that you feel the same way; seeing as you’re beautiful, smart, and incredibly well spoken. two, because i have felt similar things in the past. i don’t know many people that come from broken families and have inoperable paternal relationships.” he tapped his nose on yours. when you looked at him, he gave you a small, wistful smile.

“how do you do it?” you asked him. he hummed in response. “how do you not let him control your life? i mean, how does he not affect you?” he rubbed your knee. you could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“he does,” he said matter-of-factly. “well, i mean, the things that he did and said are instilled into who i am and have permanently impacted how i react and perceive things.” he took a deep breath, he was staring at the footrest at his feet. he looked back up at you. “i’m not perfect. some days are better than others. but, in the end we’re just children longing for the affection we were never given.”

the silence that surrounded you both as you thought of a way to respond was different than the one that held you both in the car. it was a silence that you were familiar with, it was saturated with the trust that you felt for him.

you laid your head down on his shoulder. the fabric of his button-down was stiff, but it was soft (once you had complained that spencer needed to invest in a better clothing softener. he abided).

spencer and his aura imbued your senses. he smelled and felt of comfort. you were acutely aware of how he gently and faintly rubbed his cheek against the top of your head.

“even though i can’t get back the childhood he took from me, i don’t ever stop wanting it.” your voice shook minutely. “i don’t have any faith that my father is a good person, or that he will ever change to become one. i don’t think i’ve ever looked at him and not seen the horrible ways he changed me. but i don’t ever stop wanting him to be better. he won’t be, and i know that to be a fact. but i know that he once had the potential to be something great, and i guess that gives me the faint underlying of hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll do something to make up for what he did to me.”

spencer kissed the top of your head. you swore that you felt him crying but did nothing to question him on it. there was no need for him to respond that time; you just listened to his heartbeat. you payed attention to your breathing and tried to steady it.

after a few minutes, he said something. “i love you, and i’m sorry.” the simplicity filled the void in you, even though you knew that it was nonpermanent. you would eventually long for his comfort and repeat this dance again and again.

your voice was almost reduced to a whisper. “i’m sorry that sometimes i’m a mess-” he tried to cut you off but you spoke over him. “i’m sorry that i can’t ask for help when i need it- but i won’t stop needing you. i love you. please don’t leave me. i have no clue what i would do or who i would be if you weren’t with me.”

“i was trying to say that you aren’t a mess,” you could hear the watery smile in his tone, “you aren’t a mess. and i’m not going to leave. i could never do that to you. i am going to stay as long as you’ll have me stay. okay? as long as you’ll have me, i’ll be here. with you.”

and so, you sat like that. and for a moment, while spencer held you, you existed as one. the line blurred between you. you were two broken children finding solace in each other.

#spencer reid has daddy issues and so do i #lee’s writing <3 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #hurt/comfort #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #fanfic #x reader

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daydreamtofiction · 1 month

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Thou Shalt Not Covet // 19: Spirit

Contents | Prev Part | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) A year and a half has passed and Ellis has moved on, but the universe never seems to let her forget her past.

Word Count: 8.3K (It's another hefty one lol oops)

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, adult & sexual themes, alcohol consumption, smut incl: penetrative sex, 'quickie', rough, no aftercare. Readers must be 18+

The world never stops turning, no matter how unfair it may seem. We crash our cars yet the radio still plays, traffic lights keep changing as we sit in the wreck, red then amber then green, and back again. Daffodils bloom as dreams wilt away, and the sky still glitters with fireworks at the end of the worst year of someone's life. We are passengers on a train with no stops, and the options are limited; embrace the journey or get dragged along behind it.

Eighteen months had passed since you'd let the light back in. A year and a half of laughter and growth, of new friends and milestones. Granted, you still couldn't drive. Still had terrible posture and a knack for saying the wrong things. But those that loved you didn't care, and you were finding it easier to love yourself because of that.

You were four hours from home, sitting in the passenger seat of Rav's car as he drove you through the most quaint, scenic town you'd ever seen. It was like an illustration; thatched roofs and Tudor cladding, ivy on brick and winding cobblestone lanes. There was a milkman driving a float in front of you, an old lady setting up tables outside a café as a policeman strolled down the street, smiling and waving at passers by.

You turned to Rav. "Did you ever watch Midsomer Murders?"

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, smirking like he knew what you were about to say.

"This place is just too idillic," you said. "Feels like Jessica Fletcher's somewhere investigating a suspicious death."

"That was Murder She Wrote."

"Oh. Well, still..."

He laughed, craning his head to see around the milk float in front. "Fucking hell, first the tractor, now this."

"It looks like he's going that way."

"Woohoo!" he cheered, speeding up as the float turned the corner.

You rolled your eyes. "Alright, Lewis Hamilton, slow down."

"Oh, I'm sorry, for a second there it sounded like you were criticising my driving. You, Ellis Weiss, the woman whose name alone strikes fear into the hearts of driving instructors everywhere."

You hit him on the arm.

He laughed, before squinting to read the road sign ahead. "I'm not seeing any directions for this place yet, are you?"

"No. And I still don't have any signal so I can't Google Maps it. Why don't you pull over and we can ask someone for directions?"

He gave a reluctant hum and kept driving.

"Rav, just pull over and ask."

"Hang on a second, let me see-"

"Why are men so opposed to getting directions?"

"I'm not opposed, I just-"

You reached a dead end. He rolled to a stop as you glared at him.

"Y'know what, it's fine," he said facetiously. "Who needs marriage anyway? This isn't the 1920's, we're a progressive society."

You laughed. "May I remind you, you were the one who proposed."

He pressed his mouth into a straight line, jokingly rolling his eyes before turning the car around and driving back the way you came.

You drove a little while longer, finally spotting a spire in the distance; the tall, stone point peeking over a row of houses.

"Is that the one?" asked Rav.

"I think it is."

He got closer, turning onto the street where a large church stood proudly at the bottom. Perfectly kept grass bordered the beautiful stone building, winding paths and an elaborate sign near the entrance.

"St Joseph's," Rav read. "Yeah, this is it. Thank fuck for that."

He pulled into the carpark and you felt a strange wave of discomfort ripple through your stomach. It didn't seem to matter how many churches you visited, how much time passed; the memories were like a scar, healed but never fully gone.

You climbed out into the cool, spring breeze, drying your sweaty palms on your trousers.

"Here we go, church number three," said Rav. "Third time's a charm, right?"

"Well this isn't falling apart like the last one, so we're off to a good start," you replied.

You walked together down a long path, climbing the steps and pushing through the doors into the foyer. It smelled musky, smoky; frankincense and myrrh, wood and incense, rose and beeswax. There was a man pinning signs to a noticeboard, his back to you as he whistled happily to himself.

"Excuse me," said Rav. "Are you the priest?"

The man turned. "Hm? Oh no, I'm just a volunteer."

"Oh sorry. We were hoping we might be able to talk to the priest about possibly having a wedding here. I don't know if you might be able to... Erm..."

"Ah, well I think he's in his office. I'll go and grab him for you." He smiled kindly. "You can come in and have a look around if you like? I'll only be a minute."

"That's great, thank you."

The man hurried away, disappearing through a nearby door that led to a long corridor. You walked with Rav, tentatively stepping into the chapel and looking around at the bright, vast space.

He turned to you with an excited grin. "This is nice, isn't it."

"It is," you said, looking up at the windows, the artwork on the walls.

"Look." He walked down the aisle, pointing to the pews either side of him as he went. "Flowers here, right?"

You nodded, watching as he jogged the rest of the way to stand at the altar.

He held his hands out, gesturing to the space around him. "Yeah, this is nice. I can picture myself standing here. What do you think? Is the aisle long enough? Quick, Ellis, go there and walk down, see if you can picture it."

You laughed and waved your hand at him, wandering over to a display of flowers instead, touching the petals gently to see if they were real and leaning forward to smell them.

"Hi there, sorry to keep you," a voice echoed through the chapel.

It sent a chill down your spine; the deep, rich tone seeping straight into your bones. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening in shock as the priest walked right past you, the sight of him leaving you frozen, staring at him as he met Rav in the middle of the aisle and reached for a handshake.

There was a moment where you thought you were imagining it. The tall frame, dark curls and pale skin nothing more than a ghost, a mirage, a sign you needed to get some sleep. Then he introduced himself, I'm Father Benedict, and you knew he was real.

"Rav, nice to meet you." He gestured over to you. "And this is Ellis."

He turned to look at you; his smile lines melting, lips parting in a stunned silence that seemed to last an eternity. But it couldn't have been more than a few seconds before he cleared his throat, forcing a smile and making his way over to you.

"H-hi..." he said breathlessly, reaching out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

You glanced down at his trembling fingers, conceding after a moment with a weak handshake.

Rav began to talk, but his voice was nothing more than a muffled buzz in your ears. Your eyes glazed over, losing focus as Father Benedict walked back over to him.

"Yeah, I apologise for showing up like this," Rav said. "I know it's a shot in the dark that you'll have an opening at such short notice. But the church we were supposed to be having the wedding at burned down." He laughed in disbelief. "Like literally burned down to the ground. Talk about a bad omen."

Father Benedict chuckled. But the sound was shallow, half-hearted, his eyes flitting over to you every few moments.

"Yeah I can- I can have a look. What's er, what's the date you're after?" he asked. "I'll check my... erm... my... calendar- book- diary. Diary, that's the word."

"June..." Rav hesitated, looking over at you.

"Seventh," you said.

"Seventh, right."

You rolled your eyes.

"Okay," Father Benedict nodded. "Okay, let me just go and erm... Have a- Let me check."

He walked out of the chapel, and it felt like you'd been holding your breath the entire time. You blew out a soft, shaking exhale as Rav walked over to you.

"He's alright, isn't he," he said. "Better than the priest this morning who kept staring at your tits."

"What? No, I liked him. Made me feel wanted."

"Fuck off," he laughed, immediately covering his mouth in regret.

You gave a weak smile.

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You seem a bit... I don't know."

"No I'm... It's just... I think I might be getting a cold or something. Bit headache-y."

He gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Father Benedict returned, his eyes focusing immediately on Rav's hand on your shoulder. He fell silent for a moment before snapping out of it, shaking his head and looking down at the diary in his hands.

"S-sorry, could you just remind me of the date you wanted again?"

Rav nodded. "It's June..."

"Seventh," you said again.

"Okay, right, er..." Father Benedict cleared his throat, flicking through the pages. "So I do already have a wedding on the seventh. But Friday the sixth is open, or if you really want a Saturday, the following week is a possibility; the fourteenth?"

Rav looked at you, then down at the ground as he thought about it. "Yeah, no either of those should work. We know the owners of the venue so we should be able to swap the dates around. Could I... Can we get back to you?"

"Yes, yes no problem." He closed the diary. "I er, I have somewhere to be, shortly, but if you want to come back tomorrow morning, we could sit and go through everything. Usually we'd need six months notice but, with the... fire and what not, I'm sure we can work something out; squeeze in your preparation, Saturday day, talk about costs and everything."

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you." Rav looked at you, as though seeking approval.

You gave another weak smile.

"No problem," Father Benedict replied, glancing at you again.

You began walking towards the exit, and you couldn't quite believe that was it; a quick conversation, a handshake, a 'nice to meet you' as though you were nothing but strangers. You weren't sure what the alternative would have been; a hug, tears, a blazing row? Perhaps it was best to leave it like this, to run without another word, just like he'd done to you.

But all of a sudden, there was a rush of white noise above you, growing louder until it was deafening. You looked up at the ceiling in confusion, then over to the windows as rain began to stream down the glass.

"Oh my god," you muttered.

"You can't say that in a church," said Rav.

You groaned. "We parked so far away."

"Tell you what, you wait here and I'll go and get the car. I'll drive it right up to the door."

"What? No it's fine. It's just rain-"

"Don't be stupid. Wait there, I'll be two seconds."

He ran off before you could protest any further. You huffed and crossed your arms, hovering in the archway between the chapel and the foyer. You could hear Father Benedict moving around behind you, but you refused to turn around, as though not looking at him meant he wasn't actually there.

You felt like a stroppy child, balled up, head turned, teeth clenched. When he first left, you'd have done anything to see him again, to hear his voice, smell his aftershave. But there was something painful about finally knowing where he'd been; knowing that for eighteen months he'd been just four hours away, starting anew like you were just an old VHS he could tape right over.

"Ellis...?" he said softly, tentatively.

You exhaled through your nose and turned slowly, looking up at him with a heavy brow and glassy eyes.

"Hi," he breathed, like he didn't know what else to say.

"Hi," you replied bluntly, turning away again.

He paused for a while, but you could hear him getting closer, feet shuffling tentatively across the floor. "H... How are you?"

You turned back and glared up at him in disbelief.

He sighed, dropping his head. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't," you interrupted. "Just don't."

He seemed reluctant to give in, standing there staring down at you, anxiously biting his lip as he deliberated with himself. But finally, he yielded, turning in defeat and beginning to walk away.

You watched him leave, your breath quickening, lungs bubbling with anger and confusion, sadness and grief.

"You just... Left," you blurted out.

He stopped, turning back to look at you. "I know."

"No word, no explanation. You just..." You struggled to find the words, eyes darting around the chapel as they welled with tears, before finally giving up. "Why?" you whispered.

He took a long pause, head stooped. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, forcing himself to look back up at you. "Because I was falling in love with you," he said simply, his voice nothing more than a breath.

You stared at him, the blue of his eyes so vibrant against the red in his waterline.

"And..." he continued, taking a step towards you. "I know without a doubt that if I'd stayed, I would have just continued to fall more in love with you. And I would have loved you... more than... anything. More than..." He gestured to the church around you before shaking his head, his lip quivering. "I couldn't. I just- I couldn't..."

"I wouldn't have ever asked you to."

"I know that. But it wouldn't have stopped it from happening."

You pressed your mouth into a straight line, sniffing sharply and steadying your voice. "I was falling in love with you too."

He nodded, like he already knew.

You swallowed the urge to cry, taking a deep breath and shrugging. "Well there you go. What can you do."

He dropped his head, closing his eyes like your words hurt.

You turned away, leaning against the frame of the archway as you waited for the beep of a car horn.

"You're going to make a beautiful bride, Ellis," he said solemnly.

Your stomach tightened. Then you looked at him again. "I'm not the bride."

His brow furrowed in confusion.

"Bridesmaid," you said, pointing to yourself.

"Oh..." he whispered.

"Rav's fiancé had a dress fitting so she couldn't make it. Asked me to come with him instead because she didn't trust him to find a new church on his own."

He exhaled a shaking breath, the corner of his mouth twitching with a relieved smile. "So you're- So you're not... Seeing anyone?"

You shook your head. "No one's been worthy of me yet..."

He gave a subtle smile, but your face remained stony.

There was a loud beep and you turned to see Rav's car waiting near the door. You glanced back over your shoulder. "Good to see you, Father."

You rushed outside without waiting for a reply. The rain was warm, falling so hard it hurt as it pelted your skin. You tried to keep your breaths even as you hurried towards the car, a painful lump lodged in your throat.

"Ellis! Ellis, hold on!"

You stopped at the passenger door, turning to see Father Benedict running down the church steps after you. He halted at the bottom, chest heaving, eyes wide.

You stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I..." he stammered. "I felt the urge to chase you but I didn't actually think through what I'd say once I got here..."

You blinked at him.

"D-do... Do you- could we maybe talk? I've got some work this afternoon but-" He pointed to a pub across the road. "We could get a drink, maybe? This evening? If you're not busy...?"

You looked at the pub, then back to him.

"I know I don't deserve it," he said, wiping the rain out of his eyes. "But if you could give me... an hour of your time..."

You sighed and shook your head. "Yeah," you finally said. "Yeah, okay."

He let out a relieved sigh, nodding with a slight smile. "Okay. Okay, erm... I can be over there for eight?"

"Okay."

You pulled the handle and got into the car, slicking your wet hair back with your hands.

"What was that about?" asked Rav.

"Oh, nothing, he erm... he just needed me to remind him of the dates again."

He began to drive and you sat in silence, shocked, shivering. The church grew smaller in the wing mirror until you could no longer see it all, the rain easing, a double rainbow emerging in the sky above you.

Rav glanced over at you. "Are you alright?"

You nodded, staring out of the window, the quaint town looking entirely different to you now.

The Poplar and Dove. Why did pubs always have such odd names? What did trees and birds have to do with beer, fruit machines and sticky carpets?

You stood under the awning of the pub, wringing your hands nervously as you waited for 8pm to come. You'd gotten there earlier than you'd meant to, and though you could have just gone inside, you couldn't bring yourself to seem eager.

You wished you'd packed nicer clothes than the t-shirt, long denim skirt and trainers you were wearing. But as a man stumbled out onto the street in oil-covered overalls and work boots, you almost felt overdressed.

It was 8:01 when you finally drew in a deep, anxious breath and went inside, the smell of beer hitting you like a boozy cloud as you pushed through the doors. It was quieter than you'd expected; a low hum of conversation as a television played quietly above the bar, an old song drifting from a jukebox in the corner. You slipped through a group of men, their hands and faces smattered with motor oil like the one you'd seen outside.

You tried to not make it obvious you were looking around, standing at the bar as you scanned the room quickly. What if he didn't come? What if he'd changed his mind at the last minute and stood you up? You'd have no one to blame but yourself; already dreading telling your sister you'd agreed to this at all.

"Ellis!"

You turned to see him in the corner, pointing to a drink on the table in front of him and waving you over. You couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, pushing through another group of people to get to him.

"Rum and Coke," he said as you sat down opposite him. "I hope that's still...?"

"Yeah, yes. That's great. Thanks." You hooked your bag onto the back of the chair and took a sip - the rum was spiced, your favourite kind.

He was even more beautiful than you remembered, and it annoyed you greatly. His casual shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled up to the elbow as he clasped his long fingers together in front of him. His curls were fluffy, falling slightly over his brow and framing his eyes.

Those eyes. God. You took an extra sip of your drink.

"Thank you for showing up," he said.

You gave a halfhearted smile.

"I know I don't deserve it..."

There was a lull; an awkward pause as you both shifted in your seats. There'd never been an uncomfortable silence between you before. Even in the moments no one spoke, it was always pleasant, content.

"So, what's it like around here?" you asked.

His eyes rounded for a moment, like he was taken aback, not expecting you to make small talk. You weren't expecting yourself to make small talk either.

"It's, er, It's- Nice," he said. "The parish is a lot bigger, so more work. But the town itself is... It's quiet."

You nodded.

"Why did your friends choose it for their wedding?" he asked.

"Camilla - the bride - grew up here."

"No way," he laughed softly. "How did you meet her?"

"Through a work thing. And Rav's my downstairs neighbour. I introduced them."

"Ah, so you're basically Cupid."

"I expect they'll be naming their first born Ellis," you said, unable to resist a smile.

You'd planned to walk into that pub with fire in your belly, venom on your tongue. You'd gone over the things you wanted to say in the shower, practiced arguing with him in the mirror as you got ready. Yet there was something about him, like a sedative, that made it impossible to do anything but talk.

"So Camilla's a photographer?" he asked between sips of his drink. "Editor?"

"Oh, erm, no. I don't work at the studio anymore," you replied. "I'm a freelance book cover designer now; met her at a publishing thing."

He smiled proudly. "You always wanted to do that."

"I did."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks." you said shyly, bringing the glass to your lips.

"Is that a tattoo?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah." You lifted the sleeve of your t-shirt to reveal a small, fine ink design on the inside of your upper arm.

He leaned forward slightly, squinting to look at it more closely.

"Why?" you asked. "Is it like... A cardinal sin or something?"

"No, I just couldn't see what it was." He laughed and relaxed back into his seat. "I like it."

"Thanks. I've got another one as well, but if I tried to show you that we'd probably get kicked out."

There was a subtle glint in his eye, making you realise what you'd said.

"I didn't mean for that to sound so..." You shook your head. "Sorry."

He chuckled quietly. "There's a guy in my congregation; biggest, buffest guy you've ever seen. Bald head, covered, and I mean covered in tattoos. And when I tell you he is the sweetest, gentlest most devoutly catholic man I've ever met, it's incredible."

"I bet he gives really good hugs."

"Oh absolutely."

You clinked your nails against the side of your glass, filling another awkward silence, letting the last of the nervous energy out through your fingertips.

"How's your sister?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, she's good," you replied. "She actually just had another baby."

"She did? Oh that's wonderful."

"Mhm, a few months ago. Another girl."

"What's her name?"

You glared at him, pressing your lips together reluctantly.

"Oh come on, it can't possibly be more out there than Soleil," he laughed.

"Eulalie."

"You-lay-what?"

You giggled. "Eulalie. It's French as well, apparently."

"Well, they certainly love a unique name, don't they."

"I know. I'm going to have to call my kid Keith or something, just to restore the balance."

"Ah, little baby Keith."

You lifted your glass, speaking before taking another sip. "What's the worst name you've ever baptised?"

"I'm sure we've had this exact conversation before."

"I don't think so."

"We have. The woman with the twins?"

You shook your head, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to think back.

"I definitely told you. Don't you remember? We were lying in bed one night and..." he faltered suddenly, losing his train of thought and pressing his fingers to his mouth to disguise it.

You wondered if the memory of you in his bed was too painful, or perhaps it was just embarrassing, an uncomfortable reminder of how close you once were.

"Were they called something like Paco and Rabanne?" you asked.

He laughed, his shoulders relaxing again. "Dolce and Gabbana."

"That's it. Yes, I do remember. Those poor children."

He smiled before shifting in his seat, reaching into the back pocket of his trousers and pulling out his wallet and keys. He placed the keys on the table and opened the wallet, sifting for money.

"Are you still driving the old car?" you asked, gesturing to the keys.

"Nope." He grinned. "And this new bad boy I've got has - get this - a working passenger door and air-con that actually blows cold air."

You gave a sarcastic, impressed whistle. "Living the dream."

"I know. It's funny, when I bought it my first thought was 'Ellis would love this'."

"Why?"

"Because it's an automatic so you wouldn't be able to stall it."

You rolled your eyes. "Well actually, I have my license now, and I drive a Lamborghini, so..."

"Really?"

"Obviously not."

"Fuck sake." He burst into laughter. "Do you want another drink?"

You looked down at your rum and coke, surprised to see how much you'd already drank. You promised yourself you'd only stay for one. Yet there you were, nodding and watching him walk up to the bar to buy you another.

It was hard to connect him to the man who'd left you broken and confused eighteen months ago. Hard to accept that as he laughed at your jokes and asked about your family, there was a part of him that was capable of such carelessness and cruelty.

"Here you go," he said, placing a new drink in front of you.

You looked down at it for a moment, then up to him. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

His face softened, the smile he'd sat down with falling away.

"Come on, you knew I was going to ask at some point." You shrugged.

He remained quiet, rubbing his mouth in deliberation. "I..." He inhaled through his nose, letting it out again slowly. "I didn't decide to leave until that last night. I know that doesn't make it any better, but I swear to you it wasn't some big, thought-out departure I'd planned ages in advance. I just... I got scared."

"Scared of what?"

He paused. "There was a moment that night when we were sitting together; I told you there was nowhere else I'd rather be than with you. And suddenly it dawned on me; Fuck, I am falling in love with this woman. I've made a vow of clerical celibacy, a vow to devote myself to the church and to God and to put that before anything else in my life. Yet here I am, wanting to be nowhere else but with her..."

You stayed quiet, watching him fidget with his hands as he spoke.

"I knew then that I couldn't stay." He lowered his voice. "So I did the terribly selfish thing of giving myself one last night with you. I made love to you, I kissed you before I left the next morning, and I suppose in a way I convinced myself that that was the goodbye."

You swallowed. "If I hadn't randomly turned up here today, you'd have let me live the rest of my life not knowing any of that..."

"I know. And trust me, Ellis, not a day has gone by where I haven't hated myself for it. But the way I would have loved you.... I have no doubt it would've eclipsed everything." He tilted his head to catch your gaze with his own. "I had to get away."

You wrapped your hands around the glass in front of you, straightening your spine and clearing your throat. His words were like whiskey; his confession a painful burn, the truth a soothing warmth. Your only fault had been that you were loved, and you couldn't help but wonder how much easier it would have been to know that; perhaps you wouldn't have spent so long sitting alone in the dark.

"Do you not think I deserved to know that?" you asked.

"Of course. But would it have made it any easier?"

"Well... I'm not sure there's any easy of way of hearing someone say they'd rather be celibate than with you."

He shook his head, chewing his lip to hold back a smirk. "That's not fair."

"I have a year and a half of pent up anger inside me. Let me make jokes."

"Fair enough."

You scanned his face, finishing off your first drink before moving swiftly to the second. "Are you happy with the decision you made?"

He opened his mouth to speak when a sudden, roaring cheer erupted through the pub. You looked over your shoulder, watching the group of men celebrating a goal on TV. They bounced around, throwing their arms around each other as lager splashed over the rims of their glasses.

When you turned back to Father Benedict, he was smiling at them, laughing softly as he watched their roistering from across the room. But there was something melancholic about his expression; no lines in his cheeks, no crinkle between his brows or at the corners of his eyes.

He returned his attention to you, realising you'd been watching him. "Not as happy as that," he said.

You exhaled a laugh.

"Ellis, I... I can't tell you how many times I've thought about what I'd say to you if I ever saw you again. The truth of the matter is, I don't know. I don't know if I'm dedicating my life to a God that doesn't exist. I don't know if any of it's real, I have no proof. But I really fucking hope it is. And what I do know is that I chose to become a priest because it allows me to help people, and inspire and encourage and share that hope with them, every single day." He paused. "I just never predicted I'd meet you."

You picked up your glass, swirling the ice around, making the liquid bubble and fizz. Then you sighed, meeting his gaze again. "I get it," you said. "I do, I get it. One of us would always have had to give up a part of themselves to be with the other. Either you would've had to leave clergy, or I'd have had to concede to being someone's secret lover for the rest of my life. And let's face it, neither of us would've expected that of the other."

He looked sad, brows curved upwards over glistening eyes.

"Right person, wrong... everything else." You shrugged. "Our paths just crossed too late."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes never leaving you.

"I just hope you know that the collar you wear isn't what makes you a good person," you said. "You gave me hope when I really needed it. And that had nothing to do with God or church or sermons... It was you."

He smiled, before dropping his head and clearing his throat. "You're being far more gracious to me than I deserve."

"I know."

The TV above the bar was muted, the jukebox switched off. A strong smell of lemon disinfectant drifted through the air as a barmaid pushed around a mop bucket, another collecting glasses and wiping down surfaces. There was no one left, the lights raised to full brightness, chairs stacked on tables around you like the battlement walls of a castle.

You'd talked through the end of the football match, through the noise of drunken punters and the bell for last orders. You'd talked as the crowds dwindled away, as the sky turned black beyond the windows and your glasses emptied to dregs of melted ice.

It was like no time had passed since he left. You'd never understood that expression before; how could absence not change things? How could a river erode with time and water still flow the same way? But you got it now. With every joke he laughed at, every facial expression he understood and insignificant detail he remembered, it was clear your bond had never severed. It had just been frozen, lying in wait until something came to thaw it out.

He was covering his face as you spoke, shoulders shaking as he laughed into his hands.

"It's true!" you said. "They called the police and everything."

"They did not call the police!" His laugh grew heartier, tears forming in his eyes.

"They did! I had to sit and explain to two uniformed officers that I hadn't meant to walk out of the shop with the coat on."

"Why were you even wearing it?"

"I tried it on as a joke because it was so fucking ugly. Then Soleil decided to turn into Usain bloody Bolt and run outside at full speed into the busy street."

A tear spilled onto his cheek. He wiped it away, still chuckling to himself.

"I told Mara she was nuts for trusting me with her child," you said.

"Maybe next time try a soft play centre or a park, y'know, instead of a high end clothing shop."

"Well you just have all the answers, don't you."

He smiled, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair. "Just giving you some advice so you don't go losing Keith in a Selfridges one day."

You laughed. "Keith will be kept on one of those baby leashes until he's eighteen."

You could feel a hair on the side of your nose, rubbing your finger over it a few times. He began speaking, but you couldn't concentrate, the itch on your skin too distracting. You tried to wipe it away again.

"Because then I went-" He stopped. "What's the matter?"

"There's something on my face, it's driving me mad."

He sat forward, gesturing for you to lean over the table to him. You did as he instructed, watching as he brought his face close to yours, examining the side of your nose for a moment before seeming to lose focus, his eyes softening as they trailed slowly from your eyes to your lips then back again.

"Father," you said. "I'm going to say something you used to say to me all the time."

"What's that?"

"You need to stop looking at me like that..."

He dropped his head and breathed out a laugh. "I apologise," he said, gently pressing the tip of his finger to the side of your nose, holding it up to show you a small black wisp. "Eyelash."

"Thanks," you replied, sitting back down.

"You know you can just call me Ben, by the way," he said.

"I know, but, I don't-" You shrugged shyly. "I only ever really called you that when we were..."

"Ah."

"Yeah..."

"Excuse me, guys," said one of the barmaids as she approached your table. "We're going to be locking up in a few minutes."

Father Benedict glanced around the deserted pub, the wet floors and stacked chairs. "Oh, god, sorry. We didn't even realise-"

"It's okay," she replied kindly. "You looked like you were having a nice time, we didn't want to disturb you."

"Thank you, we'll get out of your way."

You stood up, grabbing your bag and hooking it over your shoulder as Father Benedict lifted his chair onto the table, making his way around to yours and doing the same. The women behind the bar smiled appreciatively as one of them unlocked the door to let you out. You almost felt embarrassed that you'd let yourself get so carried away, talking so far past closing time, your conversation the only sound inside the empty pub.

You stepped out into the dark, chilly night, light rain falling in a mist that glittered under the streetlights. You crossed your arms over your chest to hide your nipples, suddenly very aware of how thin your t-shirt was. The street was quiet, the church nothing but a dark, imposing silhouette on the other side of the road.

"Where are you staying?" asked Father Benedict. "I only had a couple of drinks so I can drive you wherever you need to go."

"Oh, no, don't worry. My Airbnb's not far from here so I'm just going to walk."

He furrowed his brow. "They have Airbnbs around here?"

You laughed. "Yeah, it's just a little cottage, nothing fancy."

"Well I'll walk you."

"Are you sure? You really don't have to."

"Of course I'm sure, come on."

You walked most of the way in silence, your impending separation like a thick cloud in the air between you. Were you to simply say goodbye? No hard feelings? See you in June for the wedding?

The cobbled roads glistened like oil in the gentle rain, the houses quiet, as though the entire town had gone to sleep. You kept your arms crossed over your chest, your eyes straight ahead. When the road was on your left, he would walk on your left, and when it was on the right, he would move again, always keeping you on the inside despite there not being a single car.

You pointed to a row of small terraced cottages at the bottom of a steep lane. "That's me down there."

"Which one?"

"Hanging baskets, right at the end."

"Wow, you weren't joking when you said it was small."

You exhaled a short laugh. "It's all I need. Only staying two nights."

When you arrived at the cottage, you stopped at the gate, placing a hand on it and turning to look up at him.

"Well this was... weird," you said.

"Very," he replied. "But also really great."

"Yeah." You paused. "Thank you for the drinks, and for walking me home."

He smiled, but the expression quickly grew forlorn as he stared down at you. You kept your hand on the gate as you waited for him to speak, a part of you willing yourself to just go inside, while another needed to know what he was thinking.

"What?" you asked. "Do I have another eyelash on my face?"

He shook his head with a quiet laugh. "I've missed you," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

You sighed. "You can't say that."

"Why?"

"Because it's not fair. You've known where to find me... This whole time, you've known exactly where..." Your voice trailed off.

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath through his nose. "I told you why I couldn't come back-"

"And I said I understand. I do. But you made a choice. So you... You don't get to tell me you've missed me." You remained gentle, calm. "You can't act like something's been keeping us apart when the thing keeping us apart is you."

"The thing keeping us apart is my vow."

"And so go and live by your vow, Father. Go and live your pious, solitary life. I am truly sorry I ever jeopardised that for you."

He scoffed slightly. "There's no need to be sarcastic."

"Wh-? I'm not. I'm really not." You pulled the gate shut again, turning to face him fully. "But surely you understand how much it hurts to know you see loving me and worshipping God as some kind of contradiction?"

"I see loving you as the most easy thing I could've ever done." His voice was harsh yet quiet, frustration laced in a whisper. "But choosing to leave the clergy, to break the promises I made when I was ordained; that would've been the consequence of it."

"And I've already told you I wouldn't have expected you to do that. I understand your decision-"

"But you don't, Ellis. Not if you can stand there and tell me I don't get to say I miss you."

You slowed your breathing, calming yourself before looking up at him. "If you truly missed me, it wouldn't have taken me randomly turning up here today for you to realise it."

"I didn't have to realise it, because it's never not been the case." He took a step closer, speaking with more passion, intensity in his eyes. "Not a single day has gone by where I haven't thought of you. Where I haven't questioned if I made the right decision. You asked me earlier if I was happy with the choice I made, and the truth is... I don't know. Because my resolve has wavered so much more over the past eighteen months than it ever did before I left."

"And what changes now that I know that?" you replied. "Nothing. You're still going to go back to that church and I'm still going to go home on Friday. Alone."

"I don't- I don't know, I just... When I saw you there today in my church, there were ten or so minutes where I really, honestly thought you were marrying someone else," he shook his head. "And I wasn't happy for you, Ellis. I was... devastated."

"And when you realised I was actually single, how did you feel then?"

He blinked a few times, brows coming together, forming a crinkle at the bridge of his nose. "I felt..."

"You felt...?"

"Ellis you know that's not fair to ask-"

"But everything you've said to me in the last five minutes is fair?"

You were getting angry now. The rage you'd planned to unload on him in the pub bubbling in the base of your chest. He ran away from you. Tore you apart and left you strewn across the rectory flowerbed in pieces. Now you'd finally bloomed again, and here he was, plucking at your petals.

"Do you know what, I don't want to do this anymore," you said as you opened the gate and stepped through. "I knew meeting you tonight was a bad idea."

"Because I told you I've missed you?" he called out behind you.

You stopped and spun around. "Because everything you're saying is for your own benefit, not mine! To- to- to make yourself feel better, to unload how you feel onto me even though you know it doesn't change your decision."

"So what would you prefer I do, Ellis? Not say anything? Walk you home and leave without another word?"

"I'd prefer you to just fuck off," you snapped, taking in a sharp breath, stunned by your own words.

"You want me to fuck off..." he replied in dry disbelief, taking a few steps down the path towards you.

"Yes. Fuck off. Go away." Your voice quivered. You waved your hand at him dismissively and walked to the front door. "Just... Let me forget about you."

You fished through your bag with shaking hands, finding the key and struggling to push it into the lock. His eyes were on you, you could feel them, like a hand around the back of your neck. You unlocked the door and pushed it open before looking over your shoulder at him.

"There's a reason you haven't walked away yet," you said, stepping into the cottage and turning around, placing your hand on the door and preparing to close it. "You want permission. You want to hear me ask you to choose me. But that's never going to happen. I have too much respect for myself to ever do that."

You took a step back and swung the door shut, but there was a hard thump as it hit something on the other side, stopping it from fully closing. You pulled it back to see him standing there, palm planted against it, foot halfway over the threshold. His chest was heaving, nostrils flaring with heavy breaths.

You stared up at him, unable to resist giving an insolent shrug, a brattish shake of your head. It seemed to annoy him even more, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth.

"Wh-"

He interrupted you with a sudden kiss, his hand gripping the back of your head as his lips pressed firmly against yours. You lost yourself for a moment, swept away in the passion of the unexpected rush. Your mouth began to move in time with his, hot breath and sweeping tongues, but then you stopped, placing your hands on his chest and gently pushing him away.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to quell the anger rising up your throat, before glaring at him through your lashes. His face was still close, lips parted, eyes glassy. You wanted to push him away, but you couldn't; any sense of logic you possessed clouded by impulse.

You gave in, letting your body take over, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and pulling him down into a fevered, forceful kiss. He curled his fingers into your hair, holding it in fistfuls as you stumbled back into the cottage. You slammed the front door, grabbing him by the shirt as you moved in a mess of teeth and tongues, fingernails and clumsy missteps through the small, open living space.

Your backside made contact with a dining table first. He gripped your hips and lifted you onto it as you continued to kiss with unwavering ferocity. You began pulling at your skirt, working impatiently to drag the heavy, stiff material up your legs as he used one hand to unbutton his trousers, the other helping to push the skirt over your thighs. His breaths were heavy, laboured, pouring into your open mouth as he freed himself from his underwear, like he'd been aching, desperate for release.

You reached down and slid your fingers into your underwear, the thin cotton so wet it gave little resistance as you moved it to one side, parting your legs wider to let him stand between them. His lips broke away from yours, just long enough to spit into his hand, coating the head of his cock before sweeping you back into another kiss.

He slid the tip along the seam of your pussy, using his hand to guide it inside you. You gasped at the stretch, the dull burn and intense pressure. You'd only slept with a couple of people since he'd been gone; a one night stand, and a short-lived fling that fizzled out after a few dates. Neither of them matched up to him. Not in size, nor skill. So much so that you'd almost convinced yourself he wasn't as good as you remembered.

You dug your nails into the back of his neck as he sank his full length into you, the walls of your pussy moulding to the shape of him, softening, lubricating to welcome the intrusion. His throat rumbled with a groan, a hum falling from his lips as he kissed you, fucking you with a hard, steady rhythm. You whimpered into his mouth, sliding your hands down to grip his backside, encouraging him to thrust harder, deeper. He planted a palm on the table beside you to steady himself, pressing his chest against yours as he moved with more force, each snap of his hips sending a jolt through your core, making the table rock and creak beneath you.

Your mind was blank, clouded and hazy as your body welled with pleasure; a tingling in your clit and a deep, intense pulsing in your core. You were going to be swollen after this, bruised, sensitive. But you didn't care; there was an anger inside you that you had to extinguish, and with each slam of his body against yours, you were getting closer to putting it out.

Your body began to tense and tighten, each slide of his cock met with a growing resistance, making him breathe quickly as he worked harder to maintain his thrusts. Your thighs came together, squeezing his hips as waves of electricity began to thrash in your pelvis. He growled and grabbed your legs, forcing them apart again, and you let out a heavy moan as he sank deeper, hitting the spots that sent you floating on the precipice between pleasure and pain.

Your back arched, and with another brush of his cock, you fell apart. He hid his face in the crook of your neck as he buried himself completely, giving in to his own orgasm as you came around him. You were shaking, your bottom lip chattering like you'd been caught in a blizzard. Every time he shifted or twitched, the echoes of your climax would ring through you, making you shudder, goosebumps pricking your arms.

The room was suddenly so quiet in the clarity, only the rushing of your breaths and the pulse pounding in your ears filling the silence. He lifted his head and carefully pulled out of you, your centre immediately feeling tender and raw in his absence. You glanced up at him, but he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye, and you suddenly felt nauseous.

You slid off the edge of the table onto your feet, readjusting your underwear and pulling your skirt back down. He stayed beside you, buttoning his trousers as he kept his head down, staring at the table and pensively biting his lip. You looked at him again, and when he finally looked back, you knew; the same remorseful expression you'd seen so many times before. A face full of regret, shame, disappointment in his own lack of restraint. You sighed and shook your head, walking off into the next room, trying to ignore your shaking legs and the lump in your throat.

You stood in the small sitting room, looking out the window into the dark back garden. You felt a tear fall down your cheek, the droplet tickling your skin as it clung to the edge of your jaw. Your lip wobbled, but you bit it to keep it still, sniffing sharply.

"Ellis...?" His voice was so soft and gentle, his footsteps light as he entered the room behind you.

"Just go, Ben," you replied weakly, too numb to even try to turn around.

He paused at the sound of his name on your lips. Then he took another few tentative steps towards you.

"Please, just..." You sighed. "You... broke me. Not just when you left, but every time you treated me like a mistake."

"You're not a mistake. You were never a mistake."

"Was that a mistake?" You turned around, nodding towards the other room.

He hesitated.

"Exactly," you said. "Getting over you was the hardest thing I have ever done. And all it took was one day for me to end up right back where I started."

"It wasn't a mistake," he whispered. "I just... I suppose I wish I'd been more... forbearing. Made it mean something, y'know. I don't regret what just happened. I regret the way it happened."

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to cry. But another single tear betrayed you.

"Please don't cry," he said softly. "I can't- I never wanted to-" He sighed, walking over and wrapping his arms around you.

You resisted at first, but you quickly yielded, letting your head fall on his chest, your arms tucked in the space between your bodies. He cradled you in his large embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"I love you, Ellis."

You closed your eyes, his words stinging as much they soothed.

"Right person, wrong everything else," he said.

*Tags: @evelynrosestuff @thealleydog @lexlexigogh @allie131313 @simpingbestie @ironstrange1991 @witchoftheages @hiddendiary @swds @jyessaminereads @withalittlehoney @hunterofshadows04 @slytherindoctorsat221b @diabaroxa @phoebe221 @hai-kbai @downtownshabby @dara-of-qui-zi @unfilteredmoonchild @classicrebound @bigratbitchsworld @aphroditesdilemma @bloodyxsaint @ployavengersog1 @spectaclebitch @paola-carter @gordorio @shjl15 @thedaredevilsgirl @howardtonypotts @ceccille @wllsfer @thelostsmiles @vi0letdaze @stanfanfiction @king-kongbebe-blog @sof38 @doctorscarletwitch @rmoonstoner @intrappolatatrairicordi @ehuether @dragonqueen89 @estheticwh0re @Lfp10836 @kanyewestest @star-girl-05 @theothersideofthescreen @battledress @chaosdorito @vlqueen @erratica47 @happybunnyclumsyduck @bloggerbatch @bimrwolf @chaand-sitara @dude-where-s-my-tardis @run-clever-boy @j3mj3rrica

*If you would like to be tagged in the next part, please comment below, or feel free to add yourself to the tag list here

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invisibleicewands · 7 months

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Bringing revolution to Port Talbot - by Michael Sheen

On a recent February morning, I woke up to find I was wrong. Not a particularly uncommon experience in itself, but unusual to discover that on this occasion I was being publicly accused of it by the Secretary of State for Business and Trade. “Michael Sheen has said that ‘the people of Port Talbot have been let down’,” Kemi Badenoch wrote in the Daily Mail. “But he is wrong.”

It was a big day. I spent all of last year directing a three-part drama series for the BBC called The Way, which was to air that night. It begins in my hometown of Port Talbot, where a strike at the local steelworks becomes the spark that ignites a violent descent into national chaos. Clearly, Ms Badenoch had been given a sneak peek of the series before forming quite a strong opinion on it. But no: reading her article, Ms Badenoch admits that she hadn’t watched it at all. Why let a total lack of information prevent a full-throated denouncement, eh? Presumably, she also assumes that we managed to write, film and edit the entire series after Tata Steel announced the imminent loss of some 2,500 jobs at the steelworks mere weeks ago.

While the winds of change have only been blowing in one direction for many years, the events in our story were dreamed up some years ago and act as a fictional catalyst for all that follows. Surely even Tory ministers understand there is no VIP fast lane for making a TV series. This isn’t a PPE contract, after all…

Nothing to see here

After that episode aired, it occurred to me that such shenanigans in the right-wing press could have been about a couple of things. Since the ITV drama about the Post Office scandal, Mr Bates vs The Post Office, caused public outrage, I imagine the government has a new fear of the impact a TV show can have. A pre-emptive strike against a series it perceives to be criticising its actions around the steel industry must have seemed a useful tactic. And, having seen Breathtaking – based on Rachel Clarke’s memoir of how the Covid crisis unfolded in the NHS, which aired on ITV the same night as The Way – I wonder if her piece was an attempt to distract attention away from more dangerous territory.

It gave Ms Badenoch a chance to trot out her line about how the people of Port Talbot should be grateful for all that the government is doing to save the steel industry, not moaning about the impact job losses will have on their community. But the people of Port Talbot have been let down, no matter what Ms Badenoch wants us to think. Not by any single entity, but by years of neglect. That she immediately assumed my comments referred to her and her government tells its own story. In the words of a much older drama than mine: the lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Then and Nye

“This crisis is a privateering racket with your friends lining their pockets!” No, not an accusation against Boris Johnson, but something I currently say to Winston Churchill every night. We opened a new play called Nye at the National Theatre this week. I play Aneurin (“Nye”) Bevan, who attacks the prime minister for turning a wartime crisis into a money-making scheme for him and his cronies. It’s one of many moments in the play that seem to speak to past and present at the same time.

The entanglement of “now” and “then” is heightened by the fact that I am wearing pyjamas. Nye is lying unconscious in his hospital bed at the end of his life, and we follow him through a dream of his past. He wanders from childhood memories of overcoming his stutter in Tredegar library to his meteoric rise through local politics, to becoming the youngest member of Clement Attlee’s pioneering postwar cabinet. And, of course, as minister for health, his tumultuous birthing of the NHS on 5 July 1948. It’s an extraordinary, surprising and moving experience telling this story on stage each night. That shared space between actors and audience, where all is felt but unseen, crackles with electricity.

Once more, with feeling

It seems that exploring the motives of politicians, the uses and abuses of political power, and the quest for justice that saw the creation of the NHS taps into deep wells of emotion. Like the pockets of gas that miners feared within the coal seam, their release brings risk and reward. At a recent show, we had three instances of people needing to be helped out of the theatre, the final one forcing us to pause the show moments from its end. Thankfully, it was nothing more serious than someone fainting. But emotions are running high.

I’m more than happy to invite Ms Badenoch to a performance. But I realise, of course, there’s no guarantee she would make it to the end.

#Michael Sheen #The Way #Port Talbot #politics #Nye #the man knows how to write

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thebramblewood · 9 months

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Caleb finally eats some good food and hears some hard truths. Now shall we join him on a trip down memory lane? 👀

Previous / Next

Grace: Stop snacking! You’ll ruin your appetite.

Caleb: Oh, how I wish that were true.

Grace: I don’t know how you can stand to eat those things raw.

Caleb: By necessity. I’m afraid I still lack any culinary finesse.

Grace: They’re certainly a finicky fruit. Nothing that can’t be fixed with a sprinkling of magic, though.

Caleb: Exquisite as usual, Grace.

Grace: I’ll trust your taste. Even cooked, I don’t quite have the constitution for the stuff.

Caleb: And for that you should be grateful.

Now, I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to lately.

Caleb: Well… [heaves weary sigh] How much time do you have?

Grace: So let me get this straight. You turned her, you passed her off as dead, you dumped her unconscious body in a graveyard, and you haven’t spoken to her since?

Caleb: [mutters weakly] I wrote her a letter.

Grace: Caleb, no! You’re even more dramatic in writing. You probably scared the poor girl to death. And now she’s out there all alone!

Caleb: [defensively] I’d never done it before, and there was no time to plan. I left her some things…

Grace: You know the literature frontwards and backwards! The sire/newborn relationship is vital to the development-

Caleb: It seemed more important to protect her from Lilith.

Grace: [softly] The best way to protect her would be to leave Lilith in the dust. You managed it once.

Caleb: Which ended so well.

Grace: What happened to Morgyn wasn’t your fault, but you used it to justify going back. You deserve better.

Caleb: The difference between us, Grace, is I’m not sure I deserve anything at all.

Grace: God, you and your eternal self-loathing! You’ve risen above what she tried to turn you into. You have more humanity than almost anyone I know. Why can’t you extend a little compassion to yourself?

Caleb: Because I failed to protect the person I loved when it mattered most! Yet I was able to save this girl I barely know. It doesn’t make sense.

Grace: Some things are just senseless, Caleb. There was nothing anyone could have done. I hate how they went out as much as you do. But the Sages had been staving off death for decades. They were vulnerable despite their power, and the universe was eager to take them. This girl is young, full of potential. Frankly, I’m not sure you have moral ground to stand on with your sister or anyone else if you don’t help her.

Grace: You aren’t upset with me, are you?

Caleb: Of course not. You never mince words, and I never take your advice lightly.

Grace: I hope you’ll come by again soon. Emilia and Tomax would love to see you.

Caleb: [noncommittal shrug] They were always more Morgyn’s friends than mine.

Grace: That may have been true at first, but we all grew quite fond of you. I know we didn’t come up with much before, but we could always start looking into cures again if-

Caleb: That’s a conversation for another time. Good night, Grace.

Grace: [crestfallen] Good night.

#ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #ts4 story #simblr #story: hzid #caleb vatore #grace anansi #grace is all of us being deeply (but affectionately) judgmental of caleb's decision making

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pearlparty · 5 months

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Distraction

Note to self: never ask for a spot ever again. Just die like a woman when you drop the bar.

Pairing: Austin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Summary: Austin teases you at the gym and you get distracted from your workout.

Warnings: Language, innuendo, flirting, established relationship

Word Count: 2075 ish

Note: Breaking another impromptu indefinite hiatus to post lol. Based on this post/reblog to cure writer’s block. Lol I wrote this in like a day and a half and in an airport so take that for what you will. I just really like men sweating and grunting I’m sorry. Feedback is a writer’s life blood, so please tell me what sucks about this so I can improve!!

Austin had always gone to the gym with you. You’d go together, but usually stayed in your own lanes doing your own workouts, and then leave together. The routine allowed some space to breathe and work individually—do things separately together. It happened organically for one reason: different desired routines. And that’s how it stayed for weeks, leaving each of you satisfied at the end of the hour and a half.

Today provided another reason for why separate workout routines proved more effective than working together.

You’d walked in with the intention of setting a personal record on the squat rack. You’d been working your way up for weeks. Maybe you truly felt prepared to lift it, or perhaps it was the extra zing that the pre-workout put in your step, but either way you stepped up to the rack prepared to put your legs to the test. The cute dark blue crop and legging combo probably gave you an extra boost, too. It did make your ass look good, after all, and that little “I’m sexy and I know it” boost worked like magic for motivation.

Unfortunately, you didn’t see the way Austin’s eyes lingered a little too long when you put your jacket and bag into the locker. Maybe if you’d seen his eyes darken, you’d have caught onto his little game instead of being taken by surprise.

Still, before you parted ways at the locker, you couldn’t help but admire the curves of his bare shoulders beneath his muscle tee. Such fond memories of those shoulders and the weights they occasionally carried: your niece when you went to the park weeks ago, the heavy cement bag for your parents’ backyard, your thighs—

You shook the thought from your head, and moved to the track to warm up. You’d moved closer to the weight section to do some warm up Bulgarian Split Squats when Austin called you over to his spot at one of the benches.

“Babe,” he called out, “can I get a spot real quick?” The question fazed you a moment; he rarely asked for a spot, but you supposed that the empty gym deprived him of many other options.

“Yeah,” you chirped as you rose from the mat. “Yeah, sure.”

Austin positioned himself on the bench and prepped for his heavy set. You couldn't help but admire the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, the determination etched on his face as he focused on the task at hand. The veins in his hands and forearms seemed to pulse as he gripped the bar, and a small part of you wished they were wrapped around your neck—

"Ready, babe?" His voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you quickly positioned herself at the end of the bench, ready to spot him. You cleared your throat.

"Ready," you replied as you braced yourself for the weight that was about to come crashing down. He grinned but didn’t say anything.

As Austin began his set, your eyes were drawn to the flex of his muscles, the strain evident in every movement. You couldn't tear your gaze away, mesmerized by the raw power and intensity he exuded with each repetition.

With each huff and grunt that escaped Austin’s lips, you felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. You tried to focus on the task at hand, on keeping him safe as he pushed himself to his limits, but you couldn't shake the feeling of arousal that pulsed through your veins.

As Austin finished his set and racked the bar, he flashed you a grin, his chest heaving with exertion. He rose from the bench breathing heavy, sweat dotting his brow.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured with a breath, voice low and husky as he gently pinched your chin between his thumb and knuckle.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, mind filled with images of his sweaty body entwined in passion with yours. You swallowed hard, trying to push aside the thoughts that threatened to consume your mind you helped Austin re-rack the weights.

"Anytime," you replied, voice barely convincing nonchalance as you tried to quell the desire that burned within your chest—a desire slowly spreading throughout your extremities and to your lower belly. "Anytime."

Walking back to your mat, your mind swirled with overwhelming amounts of filthy thoughts, and the reps got increasingly hard to count (which ended up being fine because working to failure is good for growth, but still). Those damn grunts? Every huff and breath of exertion? The small whimper that escaped his lips when he struggled momentarily to get the bar up on the last rep? All played on a continuous, horny loop in your head as you spent the next few minutes finishing the exercises before your squats.

His damn blue muscle tee, his damn cap that couldn’t cover his pretty curls at the back of his head, his damn gray joggers, his damn water dripping down his chin as he chugged from his water bottle after a couple of sets on the lat pulldown machine that made his damn muscles flex and sweat collect on his damn collarbones. Damn him damn him damn him.

A trip the the gym had supposed to clear your mind, not fill it with insufferable horny thoughts. How were you supposed to focus on the movements properly when he walked around looking like that?

And now you needed him to spot you during your squats. Lovely.

His gaze wandered to you in the mirror as he took another gulp of water. You waved him over.

He adjusted his earbuds and wiped his chin with the collar of his shirt as he approached you. “Hey, gorgeous. Need a spot?” Was his voice always so deep? I must be ovulating because this is not normal.

“If you’re not busy? I wanna beat my record from a couple weeks ago,” you answered.

“New PR, baby!” he whooped, clapping his hands together once to try to hype you up. He likely mistook your distraction for nerves. Hell, you wished it was, not an aching need that pulled your attention away from your workout.

A nervous laugh left your chest, suddenly rather timid at the prospect of him being so close while you were trying to lift something seriously heavy. You turned to face the mirror behind the rack—turn away from him directly but still see him behind you in the reflection. Had you seriously never appreciated how he dwarfed you before?

Okay, enough, focus on the damn lift you horny simpleton, the sane part of your mind berated. You pushed the thoughts aside and stepped under the bar.

“Ready?” you tossed over your shoulder to him as he stood a few feet back.

“You got this,” he affirmed. You took a breath and lifted the bar off the rack and stepped back. Austin put a close but reasonable distance between the two of you and looped his arms under yours, prepared to pull you back if you were to fall forward.

Another breath, and then you went down. Austin followed your movements and you let out a puff of air as you tried to push yourself back to the top.

“C’mon, you got it,” he gently coaxed from behind you. It wasn’t the typical motivating voice he used in the gym. No, it was much softer, teetering on the edge of something—well, you weren’t sure you wanted to find out or you’d surely drop the bar and hurt both you and him. If you hadn’t been balancing over 200lbs on your shoulders, you might have shot him a wide eyed look. You came to the top of the position. “Alright, that’s one. Just seven more.” His voice seemed to have some extra smoke in it today.

A flush of warmth spread through your torso, tingling in your extremities that had no connection to the exertion of the second rep. His words lit a fire, spurring you on as you sank into the third.

“Doin’ so good,” Austin murmured, his hot breath fanning down your neck. “Just like that.”

Fuck off fuck off fuck off you hot bastard. He was doing it on purpose. Whether it was to get a rise out of you or provide some extra motivation, you didn’t know.

Down. Up. Four. Focus. Five.

“You’re killing it. Just focus on that form.” You could have sworn his hand brushed the side of your waist.

Six. A breath. Seven. The burn in your quads nearly made you question whether you could do another rep. You hissed out a sharp breath and braced yourself, legs wavering at the top of the rep for only a second.

“Nearly there,” Austin continued, the same salacious insinuation lining his words. “Can ya gimme one more, baby?”

A thrill shot down your spine, and your breath caught in your throat. Damn him.

You finished the set, legs trembling slightly as you stepped back to re-rack the bar with a huff. You set your hands on your hips to suck in a well deserved breath. A stupid smile graced your lips as you realized that you’d accomplished your goal despite Austin’s distracting encouragement. The burn in your legs slowly turned to a sweet jelly-like sensation.

Austin approached the rack, going around to meet you toward the front, a smirk lining his perfect lips. “Feeling good?”

You nearly rolled your eyes at his double-entendre. “Yeah,” you snorted, as you stepped around to meet him. “Feelin’ grea—“ You stumbled, the jelly in your legs making your knees fold momentarily.

Right into his strong arms.

“Woah, now,” he chuckled, pulling you back up with his hands firmly on your back and ribs. “Careful there, Bambi.” That time, you did roll your eyes with a laugh as you steadied yourself once more, but not pulling away from him yet. “Don't hurt yourself.”

“Oh please,” you flicked the brim of his hat, “I’m canceling my membership; you are too damn distracting.” You giggled as you pushed him away to walk to the equipment spray, throwing a little extra sway in your hips as you strutted away. The jig was up; no sense in trying to focus on something when it would all be for naught. You wanted to play this out.

“Is that right?” He cocked an eyebrow, that permanent smirk etched onto his face. “So you didn’t like my extra motivation, hm?” He gripped the brim of his cap and flipped it around, giving you a more than adequate view of his triceps and biceps as he pressed it down in the back. You sucked in a breath. He knew how much you liked it when he put his hat on backwards.

“I blame the endorphins. I’m taking my business elsewhere so I can actually focus,” you quipped. You stepped to the rack, deliberately putting it between you and him as you sprayed down the bar.

“Hm. That’s fair, I guess.” He moved in closer, placing his hands on either side of the rack and leaning over the bar, his voice low and suggestive, “Guess we’ll just have to find other ways to work out together then.”

You cocked an eyebrow, allowing yourself a moment to shamelessly look him up and down as the tip of your tongue wet your bottom lip before you pulled it between your teeth. Your delicate fingers curled around the bar as you rested your chin on it. The smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne and nearly made your knees weak again. You tapped your right toe behind your left heel, enjoying his proximity and the innuendo in the air.

You hummed as the tension crackled between the two of you. “Whatayasay we cut this strength session short and go home for some cardio?”

His eyebrows raised and he chewed the inside of his cheek, glancing dangerously down to your lips. A low hum resonated in his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

He shortened the distance between you, tantalizing movements to tempt you closer to his lips. And then, “Meet ya by the treadmills, baby,” he teased with a wink and then pulled away.

—

And that’s how you figured out that if you worked out with Austin, you’d end up horny and skip the workout for another sweaty activity.

tag: @mrsniallhoran505

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formulakatya · 11 months

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I CARE | TAA

“ooh, i care, i care, i care, like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots, you got the one thing that i want”

summary: where jealousy gets the best of you, you can’t help but put yourself down and trent can’t stand to watch you do that to yourself

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x f1 driver!reader

notes: ferrari are back to their winning ways in this story and based off lacy by olivia rodrigo :) sorry i just love writing to songs. also wrote this because it’s 5am and i can’t go back to sleep so excuse the terrible writing.

warnings: none i can think off, unedited work

—

“OH MY GOD! oh my god! my first win in formula one!” you screamed over the radio, excited over the impressive feat after having seen the chequered flag first. “WE DID IT!”

“congratulations, (yn)!” your engineer laughed over the radio. “i’ll see you at the number one board!”

“you bet you will,” you smiled underneath your helmet as you pulled into the pit lane, the roars of your team being able to be heard as you stopped your car, climbing out to celebrate properly.

seeing them cheer and celebrate for you was a core memory you’d have forever, you were sure of that. seeing the ferrari crew clapping for you and cheering your name, you felt tears of joy form as you jumped off your car, running to them as they engulfed you in hugs.

taking off your helmet, you smiled as you received a pat on your back from your engineer. “couldn’t have done it without you, marco,” you smiled, “thank you.”

“it was all you, (yn),” he responded, “what a race.”

nodding, you looked in the background to see the rest of the ferrari crew cheering in their garage as they ran out to give each other hugs. confused, you looked at marco as you tilted your head, trying to figure out why the crew on charles’ end of the garage was celebrating in such a fashion when he had only finished in p6. “what’s going on?”

“oh charles just took the championship lead,” he replied, looking at your smile which slowly faded seeing how everyone had forgotten about your first win all of a sudden. “hey, don’t let that overshadow your first win. you did incredibly well and nothing can take that away from you.”

nodding, you laughed at how well your engineer knew you, reading your expression like an open book. “thank you, marco.”

walking away with your helmet and hans device in your hand, you took your weight on the scale, smiling at the fia official who congratulated you before waiting for your turn to get interviewed.

“and now, our winner here today, (yn) (ln)!”

chuckling as you heard loud roars and cheers coming from your pit crew and engineer, you smiled at oscar who handed the microphone to you.

“incredible job today, (yn), congratulations on your win! how does it feel getting your first win and how special does it feel being able to achieve that here in monza?”

“thank you,” you smiled, pausing for a while to come up with a good response. “obviously it always feels special coming to monza as it’s ferrari’s home race but being able to also achieve my first win here feels extra special. i’ve always dreamed of this day since i was young— taking my first win in formula one and it just feels incredible. and to take it in monza in front of all the tifosi makes this moment feels extra sweet.”

“and your teammate, charles, also just took the championship lead, how special does that feel for you knowing that ferrari are now leading the constructors’ championship?”

of course he had to bring charles up.

pausing for a while, you hesitated before speaking again. “yeah, it feels incredible knowing that we’re now leading, i mean the team has done an amazing job and they all deserve it. charles also deserves it especially after the season he has had so far so big congratulations to him as well.”

“right, thank you (yn)!”

—

sighing, you made your way to your hotel room tiredly, the sun now setting after having taken a long time with media and the team debrief, trophy in hand.

staring at the silverware, you couldn’t help but let out a deep breath.

you had made such an incredible achievement that day— taking your first victory in front of the home crowd in monza as a rookie in the sport, and yet all the chatter in the paddock was about charles.

to you, it felt unfair.

why was it always charles? why was it always him?

every single thing you did so far in this season had always been overshadowed by his accomplishments; when you had scored your first points in australia, when you had scored your first podium in silverstone. all of it had been upstaged by charles— be it him scoring a win or him simply scoring points.

you were frustrated, and rightly so.

the moment you had always dreamed of had been ruined and now it didn’t even feel remotely special. and you hated how you were jealous of the one person that had done nothing but treat you like family ever since you entered the team.

opening the door, you smiled upon seeing trent sitting on the edge of the bed scrolling on his phone. “hey,” you smiled.

“there you are!” he smiled, bringing you into a hug the minute you were within distance, “my formula one race winner.”

“yeah,” you forced a chuckle. at least there was one person who cared.

“hey,” he spoke, looking at you. “what’s wrong?”

“what do you mean?”

letting out a sigh, he shook his head as he watched you put your trophy next to your luggage. “i know you well, (yn), and i know for a fact something is wrong.”

“i just—“ you spoke, only to be cut off by your shaky breath. “why is everything i do never good enough to feel special?”

“hey, come here,” he motioned, bringing you into a comforting embrace. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, everything i do, no matter how big it feels is never special enough. at least i doesn’t feel special enough. it’s always overshadowed by something else and it’s just…” you choked on your tears that were threatening to spill out. “it’s just frustrating because no matter how hard i try it’s never enough. it’s just upsetting because no matter what it feels like i’m always second.”

silence filled the room apart from your shaky breaths as you rested your chin on trent’s shoulder as he took a while to think of something to say.

“i’m sorry,” he spoke, “i mean, i won’t say i know how it feels but i can imagine how bad it must feel but no one can ever take your achievements away from you.”

“maybe it’s just meant to be that way for me,” you sighed.

“love, don’t say that.” trent couldn’t help but feel for you as you sobbed silently in his arms, finally giving way to your emotions. “i get that it feels like your second always and everything you do is overshadowed but the truth is that there’s so many people that recognise your achievements and just how significant they are. maybe not ferrari, but i know for a fact the other drivers and teams do. and you’re good enough, more than enough, and if they don’t realise it, they’re a bunch of idiots. it’s frustrating to have your most special moments to be overshadowed by your teammate out of everyone, for sure, but that doesn’t mean what you’ve done isn’t any less significant.”

he paused, “no one can ever take it away from you— how special and talented you are and your achievements.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

330 notes · View notes

junnieverse · 1 year

Text

BEST PART ➳ P. JONGSEONG

➙ synopsis: undoubtedly jay was the perfect boyfriend in your eyes and stumbling across an old box of yours, it becomes a trip down memory lane when you read through all the different notes jay wrote for you when you were together.

pairing: jay park x afab!reader (but it's pretty gender neutral imo)

genre: a mixture of angst and fluff, friends to lovers to exes au

word count: 1.0k

request: " jay who gives you a box full of papers that mention all the little things you do that would go unnoticed by most “y/n who cries when she laughs too hard” “y/n who loves the smell of vanilla” and on the last paper it says “y/n, jay’s everything” "

warnings: not proofread

a/n: this was such a cute and sentimental request anon, tysm I loved it, I did change it up a bit with the angst but I still hope you enjoy this too :))

a/n (2) : hi everyone, there's officially a part two [ here ] to anyone interested in seeing jay and (y/n) having their happy ending

"I'll be down with you in a minute, I just have one more box to get!" you yell to your roommate before rushing upstairs to your bedroom.

You had been living overseas for your studies for over 2 years now and you were finally packing to go back home.

It was a bitter sweet moment to say the least. Leaving home and everyone you loved behind was hard but you also made some wonderful friends in this new country and now it was all coming to an end.

Walking into your cleared room, you find the last box which seemed unfamiliar at first until you opened it to see what was inside.

Taking a seat at the edge of your bed, you felt choked up a little.

Inside the box was a neatly folded oversized navy hoodie, a handmade bracelet, a vinyl and another tiny box containing a bunch of notes and letters.

This was your box of memories with your now ex boyfriend Jay Park.

Your relationship with Jay felt like it came straight out of a movie, never a dull moment with each other.

"Jay, why do you love me?" you ask out of the blue as you both sat on the hood of his car watching the sunset.

"There's alot of reasons to love you, I could go on forever listing those." he tells you as you had not noticed he was already admiring you as you watched the scenery.

From that day on, Jay made it his life's mission to give you a reason why he loved you every single day.

This would range from small notes he would leave on your desk to full handwritten letters he would send to you.

'Day 05: I love to see the joy on your face as you wipe away your tears from laughing too hard.'

Jay was an observant boyfriend, he noticed all the little details about you that you hadn't thought he would but he did.

He always reminded you how happy he was whenever he heard you laugh because that was you in your purest state of positivity.

'Day 17: I love how free you become whenever you listen to music.'

You could recall a vivid moment back to when you were both on a date and decided to visit his favourite music shop.

You had been looking for a new vinyl to add to your collection and that's when you came across Daniel Caesar's Freudian album. Jay knew how much you loved his song Best Part with H.E.R from the album and decided to suprise you with the vinyl.

The song soon became a part of your relationship and you would listen to the song together.

'Day 23: I love vanilla scents all because you do too.'

He knew how this simple fragrance always calmed you and that's when he started using vanilla scented perfumes.

He loved whenever you would hug him just a bit longer because you just loved how good he smelt.

Jay would playfully complain about his hoodies always going missing but who could blame you for taking them.

You would wrap yourself in his oversized hoodie on colder nights and the vanilla scent would instantly help you sleep better.

'Day 25: I love the little moments between us.'

It could be the most mundane of things but Jay treasured every moment with you and you did too with him.

You both had a free weekend and decided to make friendship bracelets for each other.

They obviously weren't the best but it didn't matter to you, you were just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.

Despite how badly done the bracelet he made was, you wore it everyday and he proudly showed off yours too.

It didn't matter how it looked to you, it was the bonding experience and memories the bracelet held that mattered.

'Day 32: I love how you aren't afraid to chase after your dreams.'

You had gotten the news that you were awarded the scholarship to your dream college that you had been waiting for.

You were hesitant to leave at first but ofcourse Jay was a supportive boyfriend and he wanted you to go follow after what you've been working so hard towards.

He would never want to 'hold you back'.

Everything in this moment was hitting you and you physically felt your heart breaking.

All of the messages and memories were hard to relive but the hardest part of it all was having to accept that you no longer had Jay with you.

After moving it became hard having to juggle not only a new school but a now long distance relationship.

You both tried to constantly communicate and make things work but it was clear that your relationship was slowly falling apart to the both of you.

Less texts, less phone calls and it all became harder not being physically with each other.

Soon you both mutually agreed to break up.

'Day 41: I love alot of things about you, but everyday I find myself falling for you more and more.'

To simply love and to be in love were two completely different things to Jay and you knew that.

It was never a simple "love you" from him, he always made sure to say "I love you" with the most sincerity and eye contact and he wanted you to feel all those emotions through his words.

Simply loving you was different to how deeply he was in love with you and it was beautiful.

Going through each letter brought you so many emotions.

He wrote you a reason as to why he loved you for 50 days straight...

"Wait, where's day 50?" you ask yourself looking for the note but not finding it anywhere or in the box.

Sighing you look at the hoodie once more as the faint scent of vanilla hit hit your nose and it was just a whiff of nostalgia.

"Hey (Y/n), you okay?" you were pulled out of your thoughts as your roommate stands by your door seemingly concerned.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, I'm perfectly fine." you sniffle softly displaying a weak smile as you wiped your tears.

You quickly pack everything into the box before shutting it.

"You dropped something." your roommate says handing you a little note that fell from the vinyl case.

'Day 50: I love you because in every moment of my day, you're the best part. Thank you for being my everything.'

262 notes · View notes

coffeegnomee · 5 days

Text

I wanted to write about how far Zam has come with his character for like a week now and now he’s acknowledged it himself so I finally grabbed all the quotes.

Let’s go down memory lane shall we?

DAY 1

24:00 “There’s a ghost that haunts my dreams [...] I see him in my sleep. He tells me to kill people. But I don’t want to kill anyone”

“I have to hold it in.. [...] I wish I had like horror sound effects to play and images of every lifesteal member dead and I could flash them across the screen” does that.

ZAM: “*lights armadillo on fire* “give it a slow, painful death” PENTAR: “for someone against the whole idea of killing, you seem to have a gruesome way around killing things.” ZAM “I’m still me” [armadillo dies.] “I can only resist the urges so much [evil giggle]”

10:07:00 after Pentar kills him “It’s not about being above anyone by not killing people, I would just prefer not to. Because last season I feel like I was.. Something else. And I don’t want to do that again. I don’t want to be that again. You know?”

“Because it’s not supposed to be some morality, ‘I’m better than you’ kind of thing, you know? I don’t want to be on some like high horse. It’s more of like, I just don’t wanna let the demon out, you know, that type of thing”

Reflecting on the first two days, I wrote this about Zam: This season looks like an internal battle of his personal desire to complete a minecraft challenge™ (no kills) vs his desire to do lore and change his character multiple times. And I just don’t think the challenge wins long term. A challenge isn’t what makes him love lifesteal, it’s the lore.

Day 4 7/9/24

1:01:05 “‘zam has no enemies’ no, it’s not that I have no enemies, it’s just that if I kill people, I’m going to become like a monster. Like way worse than anyone else on the server. You know? And I like don’t want that reputation if I’m like just peacefully building. [...] ‘oh bro’s scared to hurt others then?’ yup! [...] ‘bad things will happen…. (meep)’ yea last time I hurt someone, last time i tried to hurt someone, bad things happened. And i just… can’t do that again, you know?”

1:21:40 killing bogged in trial chamber. “It feels nice cutting things down, I don’t think I’ve been doing enough of this. [...] I’m going to kill all of you, I’m going to kill every single one of you. [...] is it weird to say that I’ve missed this? Even though ‘this’ is just cutting down a bunch of skeletons, just jumping up and down and left clicking [...] [evil giggles (and not to anything in chat)] [...] my sword might say “im so sorry’ but I’m not sorry, I’m not even a little sorry right now”

2:19:05 “”also Zam is emo’ (chips) “no i’m not! I’m so happy! I’m the happiest i've been in a long time. That’s why I have my nipple out. That’s not true why did i say that”

4:04:50 Wemmbu killed Spoke. ZAM: “[opens statistics] it still says zero. It still says zero. It still says zero it still says zero. So I’m fine. I’m fine. Cause it still says zero.. [walks around base] I’m fine. It’s perfectly fine. ‘0 plants potted’ (arch) okay actually that’s what I got the clay for so.. Thank you for saying that actually, very convenient timing. [goes to shed to smelt] [blows out breath] I’m just gonna chop down trees. I’m just gonna chop down trees and I’m just gonna leave this group and I’m gonna chop down trees and I’m gonna have a fun time and nothing bad’s gonna happen. And everything’s gonna be a-okay [hannah logged on] I thought Mapicc logged on I cannot lie. Okay maybe I’m scared. [Mapicc logs on] [gasp, crouches] motherfucker. Motherfucker [under breath]”

Dies to Mapicc three times.

5:26:00 is thinking about how he’s doing a character nobody else on lifesteal has done before. Puts on a lore song. “‘If there’s one thing you’ve been consistent in the last two seasons, it’s been steady in your morals until the end’ (chips) yea. But here’s the thing though [giggle] does it matter? Or like, what’s it called. Am I restricting myself? Do you guys think? Most definitely, right. And it’s like. I dunno, a big part of me feels like it would be nice to like, let go, and just like, join in on all the violence, and everything, and all that stuff. You know? Like it would be nice. It would be nice, I think. Maybe. Maybe not, I don't know… [evil giggle] ahhh. [long pause, arch in chat said ‘once you do it you can’t go back though’ he doesn’t read it out] [lore music cuts out] [very seriously] no that’s stupid. No. I’m not gonna. I’m not gonna. [blows breath] I’m not gonna let myself go as far as I did last season. I’m not gonna let myself do anything like that again [tehe giggle] [huffs out breath]”

5:28:18 “‘it was fun tho’ (chips) it was, but it was fun at the expense of others. It was fun… but it was damaging to the server.. It was. I dunno. I don’t think it’s who I want to be. I don’t think I was born to be…That. you know? I don’t know. I feel like that’s not who I am. I feel like that was never who I was.”

7/13/24 end fight day

~2:38:00 ZAM: “‘its not ok to kill people but it's ok to ask people really nicely to kill people you don't like’ I’m allowed to persuade people’s opinions, I think, and I can only do that when I’m really really mad. [...] But i dunno. [sigh] I’ve messaged both opposing teams so i dunno, I don’t care enough though. Whatever. This is beyond me."

“Joker zam went back into his closet’ (meep) that’s true. I was possessed for a second there. [messages MC chat saying that] ‘my evil self wishes for me to kill everyone. I won’t tho.'

7/14/24 day he kills planet

Hour and half of Pangi messing with him while he gets more and more frustrated at the shulker farm.

1:28:50 Zam flies after Pangi and crits him out, but he stops. “I can’t crit him out like that, I’m gonna get my first player kill and it’s gonna ruin all my lore”

1:40:00 pangi is still singing, Zam bows him, then tries fishing rodding him. He comes up the farm PANGI: “hey PrinceZam, do you need therapy?” ZAM: “shut up you always got some noise to make, shut up. [...] I bet you’re my first kill this season” PANGI: “BAHAHAA” ZAM: “just kidding I won’t kill anyone. Just kidding. Just kidding just kidding. That was a joke. That was a joke. I won’t kill anyone. [blows out breath]” PANGI: “okay PrinceZam.”

1:47:00 ZAM: “what the fuck just happened to me. Dude, I need to stop. He keeps, he keeps trying to get me to get my first kill, bro. He’s trying to get me to get my first kill. I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. It’s getting harder and harder, with each and every day, to hold back [sigh] oooh kay. ‘Why aren’t you killing anybody’ because as soon as I kill one person, I go down a dark dark path. And you don’t want to see that dark dark path. ‘WE DO’ I don’t. K fine, maybe you do. I don’t. A great darkness lurks within me. A great darkness lurks within me. It’s consumed me, ever since, ever since I was young. ‘Your dark side is banging on the door, let the poor guy in’ no. noo. I’m gonna build a closet in my house. ‘PLEASE DO IT’ where could I even, oh I know where I could actually build a closet right now, let’s do that right now actually hold on. Unironically lets do that right now”

6:24:44 zam goes to bacon in his base, “Whenever I sleep, he comes to me. So i try not to sleep in that bed anymore” BACON: “[baffled] how did that even start. Like how did you even, what, how did this even become a thing in your head” ZAM: “[ignoring] there’s a demon in my closet, any time, any time I die he comes closer to possessing me.” BACON: “okay what is the demon trying to get you to do.” ZAM: “kill everyone” BACON: “oooohhh. Oh I like that. Okay okay” `

Then there’s the fated Bacon stream

2:39:00 bacon and planet meme around about the build battle rules and Zam snaps, “if you want to be a bitch about it you don’t have to fucking play, goddamm. Dumbass fucking planetlord and baconnwaffles. I hate both of you. Fuck you guys. I’m going back into the house… i’m going into my closet”

They clean up spawn a bit, he comes back out swinging at them. Then goes on top of the lighthouse and starts shooting them from a distance.

Planet takes off all his armor and pops like a grape.

Then on Spep’s stream he stalks Spep around to the End islands, generally just looks really threatening. Says he won’t remember this when he wakes up, but Spep will.

7/15/24

~14:00 ZAM: “[strained] dude, pangi I killed planet” PANGI: “[strained too]I know. Hey, it wasn’t your fault” ZAM: “i shouldn’t have even had a bow”

He builds the tree and writes his first oath

In the first draft he wrote “I cannot do anything that goes against the interest of the entire server”

he changed “entire server” to “majority of players” to “most players”

And changed “attack any player” because chat went crazy about him not being able to punch anyone, to “kill any other players”

7/18/24

Flame and mapicc start fighting

22:40 ZAM: “dude I did give mapicc a heads up there, I can’t lie. [realizing] I’ve been playing all sides, I can’t lie. This is interesting. I’m just chummy with everyone, I dunno, i don't do it intentionally. I do it a little intentionally, i can’t lie, but not like, intentionally”

33:20 ZAM: “I really don’t like the idea of playing both sides, but like, like- I’m trying my hardest not to, [...] Like if you shove 100 dollars in my face like I’m probably gonna take it right? Like like [giggling], it’s just like, ugh, it’s so stupid [laughing] i don’t like this. I don't know, I’m opportunist I guess. I’m just an opportunist I guess because I'm pacifist and I don't wanna die." So. But like also I really just don’t like the idea of being someone who plays both sides, it’s so awkward” while watching the fight from a distance. "

7/20/24

From 2:43:00 to 3:15:00 hops between group chats and instinctively gets information and relays it to everyone else. Actually just leaks every word he hears lol.

4:51:10 “imagine flame goes on a killing spree just so he can pay you to make more builds lol’ (citrus) dude. Is the blood on my hands then? That’s something I was wondering, what if this becomes bad. To where they’re like murdering people just for the sake of like, whats it called, paying me. ‘Yes you're evil then’ (sin) aw shit. It’s my fault. I mean I guess it depends on how bad it gets. I felt really bad when they killed jepex for me. I can’t lie, in the moment I thought it was really funny but looking back, it’s literally the same as like. Like I think me asking them to kill someone is the same as me killing them myself, it lowkey does not matter. So I’m lowkey like having another moral dilemma right there, on that one. ”

“I’m gonna stop asking people to fucking kill people for me that’s stupid, i don’t want to do that anymore”

This is so interesting, because day 1 he just wanted the statistic, and it was okay for him to do traps or gaslight people and all that. Then it was no traps, no violence. Then it was it’s okay to influence the opinions of people who already want to kill the people I want dead. Now it’s like, even that is not okay.

7/21/24 building Flame’s volcano in one day

45:00 [unprompted] “do you know something I was thinking of, which like, i just feel like it would be so easy to turn like, any tree, at spawn, into a trap. It would be so easy right? [...] I’m not gonna do it! Just like a fun idea. [..] [starts making the trap] but then it would make it real. I shouldn’t do this actually. I- i shouldn’t do this. This isn’t a good idea. Nevermind. Nevermind. [rubs face] Ooh my god, back to building back to building. I’m building I’m just building. [puffs out breath] I’m just building. I’m building a castle. I’m not why would I - why would i even make a [giggles] why did I even do that in the first place.”

2:43:00 breaking the bedrock of the end fountain to make a concrete duper “i feel really good at this. Like too good at this. It’s just holding down q, it’s not that special. But fuck. ‘It’s in your blood’ I don't want to be the guy that left behind, that broke all that bedrock, you know? I don’t want that to be my legacy, I don't want that to be my reputation. I don’t want that to be what I leave behind. Aw geeze. [breaks last bedrock] oh my god. [frustrated] That was effortless”

7:31:30 “‘it’s ok you can blame all your blunders on the demon’ (seri) [lore] what if there was no demon. [not lore] new headcanon. Just me trying to justify my acts. [soft giggle] waittt.. [pause] thank goodness the demon is real, so. the demon is real. Only i can see him”

8:23:00 crashout over not being “able” to defend himself. “‘its okay zam we saw how you are at the end of every single season’ (citrus) yea, you guys have. The deep darkness that’s within me, [giggle] ugh. ‘They’ll see… one day’ (mer) I don’t want them to see, no, that’s the thing, i don’t want them to see. [..] It’s just like, like I Could fight, it’s just such a hassle, to like, get into it, and then not, you know. Cause like, okay, okay, here here, let’s envision it, lets say I do want to fight people, right? theoretically, but, I don’t want to let out the evil evil darkness that’s within me, right? How the hell am I gonna do that when I’m constantly taking fights, constantly losing, constantly getting overly attached, overly invested in conflict, like how am i gonna, how am I gonna contain the demon within, if I, what’s it called, if I, if I’m constantly getting myself into fights? You know? ‘Getting good’ (chips) no but like I’m being dead serious, like cause, what’s it called, eventually they’re gonna hit me in a way that is gonna make me want to go full force, there’s no point in trying to fight if I’m not gonna go 100% all in, you know? So. I dunno. Maybe if I get better at my self control and discipline”

So there’s two things. One, “it’s a hassle” is classic burnout. And you just have to wait for burnout to leave. And two, he is very self aware that someone will do something that will make him get invested. But he won’t flip that switch until that happens because there is no point. Which is very valid and wise.

It’s such an interesting conversation, because it’s the first time he hasn’t made breaking his oath into a silly lore moment. It’s really settling into being a real part of him. He’s being honest about what fighting would actually do.

10:36:00 talks to jumper about his pacifism and their parallels. He tells her about how he knows he’ll get too invested and he wont want to hold back. As opposed to being unable.

7/24/24

53:10 Zam goes to the trial chambers again “dude wait these slimes have strength, are they gonna kill me? Dude I wanted to feel something but now I’m just not feeling anything actually. I was, I was, I was expecting more of a challenge”

7/25/24 day 1 peace trials

16:30 “do you think SB737 is going to kill me if he finds me? His layer’s off, I think he ran away from spawn after that one. I could see him trying though. I’ve lowkey, dude, lowkey i've been wishing someone would kill me, unfortunately I did starve to death, so now I don’t wish someone would kill me anymore. But like, it’s just been sooo peaceful, building these past few days you know? Like i haven’t ran into any kind of metal peril in soooo long like that’s crazy you know. It’s been a hot minute.”

First time he talks about wanting to be chased.

37:00 annoyed about SB butting him in D teir for how easy he would be killed. “‘zam is the most aggressive pacifist’ yea! Cause I mean how else am I supposed to let my anger out other than with my words. I still have emotions. They're still there”

7/29/24

1:07:24 still ignoring Bacon “If I’m gonna be a pacifist and not kill people, I should be able to hold a grudge somehow” “my only fighting method”

Plotting the shift in zam’s mindset is like making a color spectrum and it’s just ever so slightly gradient-ed and before you know it it’s just all red.

8/17/24

58:00 MANE: “but think about how many hearts I’ve given you before Zam” ASH: “WAIT. ZAm is accepting hearts from people That Kill? That’s not very peaceful of you zam. That goes against your oath. You’re just accepting heart that has, that puts blood on your hands. I’m not even joking about this” ZAM: “I-, I don’t. I don’t think it does.” ASH: “You’re benefiting from the spoils of the death that you claim to be so against” Zam jumps away from the conversation at the same time. nervously?

ZAM: “[calmly] if kills have already happened what am I supposed to do to stop it. I only care about myself not killing people” [parkouring over to the roof of the house] ASH: “You literally” ZAM: “not other people. The server can do whatever the fuck it wants. I don’t care” PANGI” aaahhhhh” ASH: “That’s the most. That’s the most selfish view”

ZAM: “I learned from you! The best side to play is all sides, right? That’s what you said [...] hypocrytical as fuck” ASH: “I mean, I’m not claiming to be any good person, I’m just saying your whole oath and code of honor is” ZAM: “I’m not either. I’m trying to be a good person but, hey” PANGI: “You’re doing a really bad job I can tell you that, Zam” ZAM: “yea. [swings around to look at pangi] coming from you is crazy”

1:03:00 “‘you’ve only done build commissions for incredibly violent people huh’ (arch) that is something to consider huh, am I [sharp breath in] let me put on the lore music hold on. Am I. and I, I don’t think I’m the worst person to- okay. No. you know what? It doesn’t matter. Because there are worse people on this server. So I’m not that bad by comparison [...] You know I’m doing better than I did last season [...] So I’m okay. I’m happy with my choices I feel like. I dunno. I mean like gaining, gaining hearts is not the worst thing in the world, it’s kind of like the point of the server is it not? I dunno. Hmmm ‘i mean violent people are the ones who have the hearts’ (citrus) exactly! Yea, my only, the only people I CAN do business with is the violent people”

“But by taking hearts from them am I not encouraging them to kill more? Yea, that’s something to consider as well, you know? Cause, but it’s like. Ugggghhh let me read through the oath again. ‘Are they killing other violent people or innocents’ (arch) that’s true! I mean. They kill innocents when they feel like killing innocents it depends on the person i’m dealing with. [...] I can’t control what other people do. It’s not selfish [heavy emphasis. Meaning ashsawg’s comment] it’s just like, me controlling what I can control. You can only control, you should only worry about what you can control, and what I can control is limiting myself.”

“I mean shit. What do I even want these hearts for”

“‘you got one kill’ ‘you killed planet’ okay okay okay you killed planet okay. I hate how many people are talking about that. [..] ‘YOU CANNOT DENY IT ZAM’ yes I fucking can! Yes I fucking can! Because I shot at him as a fucking like bit, because was obviously never to kill him, and he took off all his fucking armor. I’ve been over it! I have been over it like a million times it’s insane! I gave back the heart too like what. [opens statistics] Like it doesn’t even count. [closes statistics] It does not count. ‘You’re still killing’ [mocking] you're still killing. Okay actual like bot opinion. Bot take. Actual bot take is what this is. Insane. Like actually insane. The fact that people are still on this is craaaazy like actually crazy. ‘PANGI HASN’T’ oohhhh that’s what this is about. That’s what this is about. That’s what this is about, it’s about pangi, and and pangi being better than me okay.”

“That’s what this is about. It means nothing to me. Means nothing to me. I don’t care. PANGI LITERALLY- okay. Okay. okay. Okay. okay. Okay. okay. Okay. [giggle laugh] pangi is a pacifist because he wants to be. But that’s like. Dude, woogie 1 for 1 took my thing. Dude, it’s crazy how many people are pacifist why did everyone like take my thing I mean like the whole point is proof of concept is prove that it’s possible, right, but like heh heh. It’s also lame that other people are taking my thing. [more deranged leaning giggles] ‘everybody wants to be princezam.’ (mer) oh my god. “

8/19/24

~1:11:00 found Mapicc in his base. MAPICC: “and i just like, when are you gonna kill people” ZAM: “pppffff [mocking/flabberghasted] ‘when are you going to kill people?’ [reduced to laughter] MAPCIC: ”mmhmm” ZAM: “I’m not!” MAPICC: “see that's so weird.” [...] ZAM: “you start critting me out I don’t fight back” MAPICC: “actually?” ZAM: “no like genuinely, yea” MPAICC: “wait. Okay [pots up and takes all armor off but helmet and boots]”

1:34:00 “a little terrifying i can’t lie. it’s weird. I feel like after an encounter like that I’d have a teammate to go talk to about this. But there really isn't anyone like that this time around”

8/22/24

3:30 about the mapicc infestation “It was a very interesting fight. Honestly one of my favorite fights of the season”

19:40 “ohh ‘kaboodle the pacifist’ (evi4) Wait kaboodle the pacifist? Are we fucking serious. Yo. okay. Okay. i’m not even going to say nothing bro. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m not. I’m not even [starting to laugh] going to say nothing, bro [deep breath in and out] how come the one season. Like the one season, that i do it and it’s like interesting, everyone else decides to do it. In season 4 no one copied subz. Everyone made fun of him. But now, but now i do it and everyone wants to fucking be me okay. Okay. no okay. No okay. No like. Bro. [so sad] [...] ‘Everyone is just scared of the big pvp-ers’ (arch) that’s true. It’s not even. It’s not even like me. Oh my god. It’s not even because i’m cool. No it’s not even because of me, it’s just they don’t want to get killed”

27:00 kab asks if she can talk to zam and get advice “oh bet. Oh i love giving advice to my fellow pacifists. My favorite thing to do ever” /sarcastic

31:40 Woogie drops in “Zam is amazing at making people peaceful”

34:00 “if your goal is pacifism, then yea, he’s passing, but if your goal is to not get murdered by people then you probably shouldn’t be destroying other people’s builds, you know. That’s how you start wars” about pangi’s pacifism.

Which is ALSO interesting. Because zam cares about not starting wars because he doesn't want to get emotionally pulled into a fight.

ZAM: “its like i’m in a skit. And like, as soon as i start questioning one character, and another character comes out and is like “ooh i’m also a remake of you!” what the fuck is happening”

“You know what’s keeping me going is that i’ll probably outlast them”

42:40 “is this a bad thing? Am i bad for not wanting them to be a, [laugh] to be peaceful like me? Is that a bad thing? I mean like, i feel like, uhg. But it’s like, they- [sharp breath in] what is- what have THEY gone through? To want this change”

“Like kaboodle is doing it to save her skin. Woogie is doing it to save his skin, like. It’s very different i feel like. It’s just very different. I [whispers] oh my god. [spins around] what did. What do they know! What do they know. Oh my god. Fuck damn. I think that’s why i’m upset. It’s not that like, [long pause] bruh.”

“How can i rise about the rest. That's what i want to do now. That’s what I wanna do now. I want to rise above the rest. That’s what i’m thinking about right now, i’ll be honest. How do I [sharp breath in] [blows air out] like. This is-. [grumble] this is stupid. This is dumb. I shouldn't even think about this. You know what this is dumb."

48:00 “it’s not like a fun thing to do. Like. I- being a pacifist has been like, it’s it’s had its moments i guess. I dunno though. Definitely, i’ll admit it, not the most.. fun. But uh. Thats. that’s besides the point. That’s okay. That’s.. that’s fine [deep breath in and out]”

“‘being a pacifist isn't for everyone, you have to truly believe in the rules and know your own limits so you can be pacifist’ (hexlarry) but like that’s the thing, do i even like, fully believe in it? Cause now i’m starting to question myself. I mean I did it not so that i could save my own skin. I did it so that i could, i dunno, just avoid repeating prior mistakes. And things like that. Sooo. because getting myself into fights would probably lead me down a very very dark path and i don't want to [sharp breath] i don't wanna do all that so by avoiding conflict at all costs I, I can, what’s it called, hmmm [spins around] fuck [princezam distress noises] [...] ‘has something changed’ i dunno. I’d hope not”

“‘it feels like they’re mocking you a little’ (evu) a little bit! I guess so. That’s kind of true as well honestly. I dunno. Hmmm, it’s very. Very interesting. Very interesting turn of events. I dunno. It’s not that i feel like it’s my thing. I feel like everyone should be allowed to do it, it just feels like the way that they’re doing it kind of is like, i guess it is, i dunno. It’s a little bit like.. Hmm yea ‘it’s an easy way out to them’ (arch) to them, to them it doesn't have any of the same significance it does to me. They're doing it because they want to live longer, they want to hold onto their hearts longer, i’m doing it because I like- i essentially need to- ugh. I dunno. I’m doing it- hrmmm. No, i’m doing it because… Because i want to. Because I want to. I want to. It’s my decision. I want to do it. I dunno [jumps around thinking for a while]”

The last part is said in the same tone he used during the Abyss arc when his team wasn't logging on to help him.

“It’s not about what other people have done though. It’s about me upholding an oath i guess. Me.. avoiding [giggle] repeating mistakes and stuff. Umm. i dunno ‘it’s a conflict with myself’ (mer) exactly. It’s entirely. Entirely within me. And that was a situation that, admittedly, I had control over. I could have just not shot my bow at him. It’s a lesson learned i guess. But. I dunno. I- I just hate it. I hate it so much because that was not meant to happen at all. Like. it’s ridiculous. Its just ridiculous i feel like. I dunno. ‘Bro is still talking about this’ yea because I care about it.”

8/23/24

5:38:00 WEMMBU: “you’re profiting off the economy of people being murdered” ZAM: “I don’t know if that’s true at all even. That’s just. [trying to talk while wemmbu is talking over him] Anyone who lives on this server is profiting off the economy bro. I don't know what you’re talking about. [...] That that’s like breathing air on this server is benefitting form the economy bro” WEMMBU: “and you’re the one that’s saying you’re and innocent soul bruh” ZAM: “i’m, somewhat innocent. I’m innocent to the point where I won’t lure someone to spawn so you guys can kill them. That's how innocent I am” WEMMBU: “wah wahh wah”

And he leaves the group

ZAM: “Get me the fuck out of here. I simply participate in society. All i do is live and breathe air and try to live an honest to god living.”

~5:51:00 “‘Oh so you agree you’d be responsible in that scenario’ (arch) yea! If he’s going out of his way to kill people For That [the build he wanted to commission], like to pay For That, I feel like yea, I feel like then I’m definitely responsible. [...] But mane, flame, mapicc, they already have the hearts, I know they withdrew them from their hotbar, they did in front of me, it did the sound. So, yea. And flame just had a heart bank that he went and grabbed. So. yea no, those hearts were already acquired. They were, like, those kills happened, it’s over. It’s good.”

8/24/24

2:13:00 “that was interesting. What a day. I almost hopped into a fight. Probably wont do it again, that was a one time offer. But. i dunno. I was willing to die for a cause. I wasn’t going to hit him.”

“Maybe i faltered. Did I falter? By willing to fight? I wouldn’t hit him. I don’t think. Maybe I’d hit him. I don’t- [scoff] would it be fine as long as i don't kill him?” “it’s my rules”

“Yea mapicc did get really excited when i mentioned pvp. That was really interesting. That was cool. I do have no critting yea. Hmmm. i dunno. I did just want to support my friend flame ‘you're just helping out a friend i think thats in the servers best interests’ (arch) that’s true. Yea. if i, i dunno, cause like the main goal is to just work in the server’s best interests. And i guess in that situation that, specific, little situation, fighting flame was actually in everyone, everyone who’s online’s best interests. Ironically. So yea. Despite it normally being the wrong answer, violence was kind of the answer to fixing that problem there. ”

2:18:00 “I’m worried though. Like I feel like the lack of violence encourages me to like, i dunno”

“I think people should be more violent, i think that’s fair, that’s what this server is about. I haven't changed my stance on that, the server is about killing people. It’s not about [giggle] the atrocities I’ve committed, that’s for sure”

“‘That’s not very pacifist I mean’ like that’s whatever, it’s princezam then. It doesn’t matter. Pacifist is just the moniker I chose, but if it’s not fitting it’s not fitting. I’m doing whatever I believe”

“‘the blowing up builds and killing weaklings was your more problem. not your violence inherently’ (arch) exactly. And unfortunately I feel like with any sort of violence [tsht] unfortunately all paths lead to that road. You know? Everything will just eventually get me there. I think it’s better to swear it off, you know. It’s just, It’s just for the better”

Flame blows up spawn.

2:52:00 “And my heart count too. I was trying to get to 20 but like - what does that even do, what is that even good for, if i can't do anythin- if i’m powerless to stuff like this, if i’m powerless to this. This. Like what’s the point, even like what’s-... I feel like everything I’ve done is just like actually completely futile now. Like, none of it matters. NONE of it matters, not even a little, if other people are just going to take up the mantle. What like, what’s the POINT?... I don't get it. I mean holding out, not giving in, despite all of this, would prove me as a way stronger player than him, but WHAT GOOD DOES THAT ACCOMPLISH. SO WHAT?! Like, he’s just going to do this again, like why does it matter? Why does it even matter? What the- what does moral highground get me? What does moral high ground even get me. Why did i think this was even a good idea even a little bit, [so loud] OH MY GOD. [pause] ‘It doesn't even mean anything to anyone but me’ (arch) exactly. This. oh my god. It’s not just to myself though (arch) it’s ahhh Fuck. It’s supposed to make up for everything I did- For just everything I did in general really. That’s what it’s supposed to be, but, like ah, does anyone care really? Does anyone care? Other than me? At this point I don't think so. There’s bigger problems. ‘Spawn looked the best this season’ it did. It really did. It really really did. It really did. [tabs out for a long time, just silent] i can't’ believe this. I can’t believe this. [sigh] oh my god. [leaning head back] Dude. and like. Oh my god. Yea no one is going to do anything that’s true. The fact of the matter is [laughing as talking] no one is going to do anything about this. Because no one cares. And that’s what he’s going to realize. [...] That’s all fine to me, it doesn't matter. It doesn’t matter. This is definitely the furthest I’ve wavered, on this path of mine. Dear god. [blows out breath] and i was the only one here to do anything about it oh my god [silence] ‘they did call me ground zero’ [puts head in hands while reading it] is it my fault? Is it my- wait you’re right. [breathing heavily] it kind of in a, in a weird, fucked up twisted way, it kind of is my fault. Because my stupid pacifism stuff it it spiraled out of control and got to woogie, got to pangi, it’s it’s like [grrr grumble] (all of chat is screaming that it isn't his fault.) I, oh my god. Oh my god. Dude like. I actually feel so dumb. I feel like I’ve wasted the past month or two. I’ve actually just feel like I’ve been wasting my time. Like, like none of that matters. Actually none of that matters, I feel like, anymore. And like, because I did all that, everyone else copied me. Everyone copied me, they were right! No, they were right. That’s the messed up part of this, is that they’re Right. And that they probably will get a fight out of this, that’s the Fucked up part of this”

3:04:00 “If I fight them I give them exactly what they want. It’s so fucked up. There’s no, there's no winning option here. There’s nothing I can do to win”

Realizes he can just rebuild. Rejuvenated in one second flat.

“Do I just keep rebuilding it over and over? [...] But I don’t care! I’m not giving up. I don't care, I don't care!” “this is literally what I do. What am I tripping for? This is literally what I do”

3:35:30 “I feel like most people would not have the mental fortitude to experience what I just experienced and then Not Fight. Like that is an absurd thing to do. But it’s a me thing to do. So”

3:37:00 “i know i don't have all of my screws together, but i definitely, i think i could win a battle of mental fortitude if I wanted”

Talks to everyone and forms Gaia’s Hand

5:46:00 wrapping up stream along “dude I know like, i’m real confident and real happy and shit, but I , I am terrified. I am terrified [stares into a big cave thinking] i dunno. I'm not gonna second guess myself but. It’s just- it’s a scary battle. It’s a very scary battle. I dunno”

“Mean, I’m not alone. That's true. That definitely helps [...] I feel like the last time I spent a lot of time repairing spawn it didn't end too well. Lowkey that’s when everything went horribly wrong, actually. i feel like it’s just been downhill since there.”

“I am doing this to spite flame, but at the same time the thing I care about the most is just having the server where spawn can't just get destroyed. I dunno. That’s what I care about the most”

5:53:40 “‘you and your attachments to spawn’ (seri) [wistful] it’s, it’s the heart of the server. It’s the heart of the server. And, i dunno, I can’t, i can’t help myself but protect it. In every way that I can. I dunno. It’s just in my nature. Which is ironic, considering the atrocities I’ve committed.”

8/29/24

44:30 “support the people trying to ban them and the builds won’t get destroyed anymore’ (chips) that’s true. But do the ends justify the means? Like sure I will get spawn builds being safe, but I’m, I also am taking some part in someone getting banned off the server. which, i dunno. I feel like i don't want to be a part of”

45:00 “Is it for the greater good, or it for my greater good. It has to be objective, it can’t be a skewed biased point of view”

1:05:20 “i can only control myself, and only the small few who have joined me�� “kaboodle and woogie” “Ironically they’re truly the only ones who are part of gaia’s hand”

Week long break for MMCR

9/9/24

11:40 ZAM: “I’ve kind of realigned my look on the server [...] Everyone’s goal goes back to, like, killing. So I feel like if I help anyone I’m like sort of contributing to the violence on the server, which is something I- which I can’t prevent obviously but it’s not also something I’d like to contribute to. The whole point is I don't want to contribute to violence and you know, kill people I guess. I dunno”

How far princezam has come. It was never about actual pacifism… except now it is. He truly is a pacifist now. He used to be a bad pacifist and now he’s just a pacifist for real. How interesting.

19:00 “That’s just the spite and hatred in my heart. I’m full of hatred recently, that’s something i’ve noticed as well. Definitely something i’ve noticed”

44:00 “I feel like nothing accomplishes anything. I feel like anything I would do would just make things worse. I dunno. Maybe that’s just me though. Maybe that's just me and the way I feel. I dunno”

“I just want to win. You know? But how do I go about that even? There’s nothing to win against."

~1:27:00 “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” “interesting phrase considering the circumstance I’m in. [...] yea i mean violence is good to those who love it. I’m just unfortunately not one of those people. At least at the moment. [pause] Well I wouldn't say at the moment actually. I would say I’m not one of those people. For sure. Used to be. Not anymore.”

1:53:00 “when i think of goals, the first thing that comes to mind is like, laying in a field of flowers. That’s what I want to do. That’s what I want to do. I dunno”

9/11/24

~40:00 “it makes me question what my path is, cause i’m not, i’m not i’m not i’m not i’m not a killer or anything at least i don't want to kill anyone, i don't want to be doing that. Soo where does that leave me? What am I gonna do, what am I princezam gonna do.”

#lifesteal #princezam #gnome rambles

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avelera · 3 months

Note

Vibrating over Daniel’s ending.

I’d love your thoughts on what it means for next season?

(And any other thoughts you have about the finale are so welcome 🙏)

Heya! I actually wrote up my thoughts here.

But, short Daniel-specific version:

I think we'll get Louis-as-Lestat's-agent inviting Daniel to interview Rockstar Lestat for his next book and Daniel salivating at the chance to do so.

(Very different tonally from what I was expecting, btw. No joke, I thought the falling books were going to be Lestat crashing through the ceiling to kidnap Daniel for an interview so he could tell HIS version of the story lol, but I can see why they went for a tearful Loustat reunion instead and how kidnapping Daniel wouldn't have worked with that, funny as it is in my head).

The good news is that I believe we'll get Daniel's snark throughout Lestat's book since that's been the framing device of the show so far (though, there's less of a "mystery" to unravel in Lestat's narrative than in Louis's so... who knows, maybe they will break the format since you don't need an investigative reporter with Lestat to drag secrets out, Lestat literally can't shut up). Honestly, I am SALIVATING to hear Daniel tear Lestat's narrative limb from limb lol.

The bad news is that I think, sadly, that if we dive right into 1-2 seasons of The Vampire Lestat, we won't be getting the space to explore Armand/Daniel and why that happened and if Devil's Minion happened in the past until a theoretical Season 5, if we follow the books and leave the end of TVL to go into Queen of the Damned, where that beat takes place.

IF we do that, sadly, it means we'll have to wait on the full explanation of Daniel/Armand.

HOWEVER, I also wouldn't put it past the show to actually do more interweaving of past and present than that. Have some modern stuff like Daniel/Armand/Devil's Minion in the present day while we're ducking in and out of Lestat's trip down memory lane to 18th century France.

GENUINELY, even as a writer, I don't know how they'll tackle the order of events given that means it'll be a LONG time before we get an explanation for stuff they set up in this season like Daniel's turning and part of me thinks they won't wait THAT long because the eagerness to learn this info is here now, and might not be there in a couple years, people might have forgotten by then.

That said, they also introduced Raglan James, the villain of Vampire Chronicles Book 4, the Body Thief, so that actually signals that they're willing to seed things very early before the pay-off, UNLESS they remix the order of the books significantly and Akasha gets pushed back.

It actually would kinda make sense to push Akasha back she is an EXCELLENT final boss and Body Thief is a bit of a come-down after her so I wouldn't totally blame them for swapping those two books in terms of the order we see their events in. But maybe not! They've been surprisingly faithful in a lot of ways. Regardless, I trust their discretion.

And finally, my hope when we DO finally get Devil's Minion, we're going to have the modern Daniel/Armand juxtaposed with the 1970s one, ending in Armand refusing to turn him in the 1970s, wiping his memory (perhaps knowing that vampirism would drive young Daniel mad, as it canonically did in the books, but old Daniel is made of sterner stuff now) and then we flash forward to the present and old man vampire Daniel and Armand and whatever THEY'VE got going on (hopefully: Daniel domming the shit out of Armand the way he always wanted).

So ok, I lied, I had more thoughts, lol!

#iwtv #iwtv spoilers #devil's minion #the devil's minion #daniel molloy

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takenbypeter · 3 months

Text

A Letter From the Heart

Ben Poindexter x reader

Words: 911

You hadn’t meant to find that letter. You didn’t even know it existed. It was honestly all by chance that you found that neatly folded piece of paper.

You were hanging out with Dex that afternoon, (just as you’ve done so many times before), and in knowing you’d be arriving soon he decided to clean himself up with a shower after an…intense work day, so that’s where he was when you had entered his apartment.

“Dex, I’m here!” You shouted, stepping near to the bathroom, while he shouted back a, “hello,” back followed by a, “be out soon!”

You gave a single nod to yourself before setting your bag down in the spot Dex had designated for you.

You had been left alone in Dex’s place many times before, he trusted you. In the whole fourteen months that you’ve been together, he had no reason to doubt you.

The only difference compared to the other times was that right now your phone was boring you. There was nothing to do and you were bored of the few games that you had on your phone so you just glanced around a little.

With your hands held together behind your back as if you were at a museum you walked around briefly looking at the pictures he had of the two of you along the walls.

While you strolled down memory lane you came to a stop, as a frame that hung across the room caught your eye.

You tilt your head to one side then the other before coming to a conclusion. The frame was crooked, (which was very unlike Dex).

Swiftly making your way to the picture you notice something white sticking out from behind the frame.

Shifting the frame some more you realize it’s a letter. Of course you then lift the frame off and once you do you realize your name is actually on the letter.

Taking the piece of tape off from the frame you take the letter and set the picture down before opening the paper.

You didn’t know what to expect from this letter.

Why did it have your name? Why was it hidden away? Why was there even a letter like this?

Your questions slowly became answered as you began to read the letter.

On the first line was your name plus the date, (which was listed a short time after you two started dating.)

Hi.

My new therapist says it’s important to write any strong feelings down so that’s what I’m doing now.

Okay, here we go.

I have strong—intense feelings for you and I’ve never had them before, not like this.

I constantly have you on my mind and I don’t know what to do about it.

When I’m not with you I feel dull and empty.

I don’t like it; feeling angry and scared all the time, it’s exhausting.

When I’m with you though I feel light.

I feel like I’m who I’m supposed to be.

I hated who I was before you and I’m scared of reverting back to that person.

I’m scared that one day, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.

Scared of what I’ll become if that happens.

I know I’m too much.

Too intense.

Too rigid.

I just hope you can see past that and one day love me for me.

I will always love you for you even if I end up scaring you off.

Hopefully one day I’ll be strong enough to tell you this to your face.

Love, Benjamin Poindexter

You stared at the letter, eyes reading it again, almost as if the first time wasn’t enough. You’re so enthralled by his words you almost didn’t notice Dex stepping into the room. Almost.

When Dex came into the room he immediately spotted your hands. From seeing your name sprawled across the outside material he knew exactly what was on that piece of paper.

What he didn’t know was what you thought about it. Even with all the time you’ve been together he still found himself wondering, were his emotions too much? Did you find the letter weird? Had his words scared you off? He knew it was a bad idea to listen to that quack of a therapist.

“You wrote this?” You asked, despite already knowing that he did.

Dex could feel his mouth dry as your eyes seemed to bore into him, waiting for him to say something—anything. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think long though.

“Dex, this is really sweet.”

Your words seem to hit Dex, “…sweet? You don’t think it’s…extreme?” He lets out a single yet embarrassed laugh at that word. “I mean I wrote this after three weeks of being together, doesn’t that ring sort of weird?”

He knew the answer was yes, it had to be yes.

But all you did was shake your head at his questions…before nodding it, “I guess it may seem a little rushed but I think it’s nice.” You glance back down to the letter, a smile unconsciously being drawn to your lips, “Or maybe I’m just weird and I think it’s sweet because I’ve never gotten a letter like this before.”

The same smile that you wore appeared on Dex’s face as he watched in fondness. One, because he could easily see how much this meant to you, and two, because he’d gladly write you a hundred letters if he knew how happy that’d make you.

But for now just one was enough.

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rippeanuts1950-2000 · 6 days

Text

i hate u i love u

Chapter 3)

He never flirted with her first.

Oh sure, Corey flirted with her on a daily basis but that was when she was winning an argument, not because she was just minding her own business. What is his deal? Is he trying to get her to let her guard down? Well tough luck, he lost that privilege three years ago.

These are the thoughts running through Laney’s head as she does stock check in the back. Remind her again why she took this job? It is a miracle enough that she got hired, considering her history with Corey but a part of her wonders why she still took it even though she doesn’t hang out with Corey anymore.

Mostly she knows it was for nostalgia. This shop was where she got her first bass. She remembers how six year old her held Corey’s hand as they tried to find the perfect instrument for her. Mr Riffin was so patient with them, especially Corey because he kept pointing out instruments that he thought looked cool to Laney.

(“We have to find you the coolest instrument, Lanes.” He had said. “Why Core?” Laney had asked. “Because you’re the coolest person I know!” Corey had answered. She’s pretty sure that after that moment she gained her crush on Corey.)

Laney shakes her head of the memory. It’s weird to think about it, the time before Grojband. Before they stopped being friends. The inner child in her misses it.

Whatever, what’s done is done.

Speaking of things being done, she’s almost done noting down stock which means she’s gonna have to face Corey again. Sometimes she wonders what would happen if she quit.

*****

“That was fast.” Corey says when she steps out to the front. “We don’t have much stuff in the back.” Laney responds, refusing to look at him. “Did you finish what I asked you to do?” Corey nervously scratches the back of his neck. “So the funny thing is, I didn’t do that. Instead I wrote more lyrics to my song.” He answers. Laney scoffs. Well at least he didn’t try to lie to her.

“So the one time I need you to NOT write lyrics, you end up writing lyrics.” She snaps. Corey throws his hands up in a “so sue me” kind of way. “The words started flowing and my inspiration was going wild!” He argues. For some reason, his words make Laney want to yell at him more. “But you couldn’t have that when I was still part of the band?” She says bitterly. Honestly this sort of thing shouldn’t affect her as much as it does. But the fact that he started taking writing lyrics seriously and actually stopped relying on the diary after she left has always left a bad taste in her mouth.

Corey glares at her. “Oh this again? For the last time, I didn’t have inspiration back then! I was thirteen, stupid, and wanted our band to get big so that I could share our music with the world!” He exclaims.

Laney slams her hands down on the register counter. “And what changed? Cause last I checked you did have inspiration from Trina’s diary entries. How do you have inspiration now all of a sudden?” She’s screaming at Corey at this point but honestly she doesn’t care. “I just do okay!” Corey says, crossing his arms. “Oh my god, could you give me an actual reason instead of that? You do this everytime I ask!” She snaps. Corey stomps over to the register, looking ready to yell at her like a mad man. Good, cause Laney will yell right back. “Did it ever occur to you that you leaving might have been my inspiration? Now that I don’t have you breathing down my neck about lyrics every five seconds, I know how to write lyrics without the diary.” He answers, and even though he’s not yelling Laney can sense the anger in his voice.

Laney shoves him away from her. At some point since he got over to the cash register he had somehow managed to get in her face. “I only lectured you so much about lyrics because you never tried hard enough to write GOOD lyrics on your own and you ALWAYS relied on Trina’s diary. And then like two minutes before we had to perform, you always made us drop everything to steal the stupid diary despite the fact I always told you to do it ahead of time. If anything, I was the reason we got anything done.” She growls, jabbing a finger against his chest. Corey scowls. “You held us back!” He yells. Laney freezes.

Did he just?

Oh this dumbass.

“I held the band back? Riffin, that is the biggest load of bull shit that has ever come out of your mouth. I’m the reason why Grojband fucking exists. I was the one who told you we should start a band. I was the one who asked Kin and Kon to join because you were scared they would say no despite the fact that we had been taking music classes with them since we were seven. I was the one who booked us our first gig. I was the one who helped you come up with the name! What did you do? Write bad lyrics and criticize me when I had valid objections. Held the band back, my ass. If anything, that was you!” Laney screams. Thank god Mr Riffin wasn’t in the shop that moment, she would have been fired for sure.

“Lanes, I-” Corey tries to say something but Laney cuts him off. “Shut up, I don’t want to hear it. And you lost the right to call me Lanes three years ago.” She says, ducking down and pulling her headphones and her lyrics folder out her backpack. She crams the headphones over her head, turns on Paramore, and pulls out the lyrics for i hate u, i love u. It’s been way too long since she last worked on it.

Out of the corner of her eye Laney can see Corey watching her as she writes, an apologetic look on his face. He sees her looking at him apparently, because after a few seconds of subtly glancing at him, he mouths “I’m sorry.” at her.

Whatever, what’s done is done and she’s gonna make sure the Newmans win the Battle Of The Bands.

*****

“What did you do?”

Corey glances haphazardly at Kin who is currently trying to play god with fusing genes or something at his little office space in Corey’s garage. Honestly Corey’s not even sure he cares to know what he’s doing after how he acted yesterday. “A lot of things.” Corey mumbles, rolling over on the couch. Kon, who is chilling on the floor in front of the couch eating cheese and chips for some reason, hands him a bag of chips. “Did Laney reject the Battle Of The Bands bet?” He asks. Corey takes the bag unceremoniously. “Nope, she said yes.” Corey says.

Kin lifts up his goggles and swivels his chair towards him. “How'd you mess up with her this time?” He asks, pulling out a notepad and a pen, ready to take notes on his friend’s issue. Sometimes Corey thinks Kin is convinced he’s a mad scientist/licensed therapist. Only one of those things is true. Unfortunately for Corey, he can not afford a real therapist so Kin is all he’s got.

“Let’s see, not only did I flirt with her unprompted, the next thing I did after flirting with her was get into an argument with her. And what does my brilliant brain decide to say when I’m losing the argument? That she held the band back.” Corey lists off. Kon starts gagging on a piece of cheese he had been eating while Kin’s pen explodes because he’s gripping it too tightly.

“YOU TOLD HER WHAT?!?” The twins scream at him. Kin grabs Corey by the shoulders and starts shaking him. “Corey, you idiot! Laney was the original heart and soul of Grojband! Without her we almost fell apart, don’t you remember?” Kin rants. If Corey wasn’t being manhandled by him, he would have yelled at Kin.

Of course he remembers, he almost broke the band up because of it. Making music without Lanes sucked. He never thought he would miss her constant reminders to start writing lyrics soon or they were gonna be in deep trouble, but he did. Kin and Kon were great but he had known Laney since they were in kindergarten. She was the first person to believe in him outside of his dad and Trina(back when she was Katrina and not Trina). If it hadn’t been for Kin and Kon telling him that they should at least try and make music without Lanes did he realize that breaking the band up was a stupid idea. Now the band is as strong as it was before, just missing a bass player. Both in reality and in their hearts.

“I know, it was stupid and dumb and I regret every word I said. Except for the flirting, that I stand by.” Corey says, once Kin has stopped shaking him. Kon groans. “Corey, that’s not the point. You still said it and that probably lowered her opinion of us, again.” He says, shaking his head in disappointment. “If you love her, why do you act like this?”

Corey opens his mouth to argue but then closes it. “I…I don’t know.” He admits. This snaps Kin back from his quiet ramblings about blue haired idiots. He picks up his notepad and gets a new pen from out of his pocket. “Let’s dig deeper into that, shall we? Now I understand you and Miss Penn had been friends for years before the incident in 9th grade.” He says, tapping the pen on his pad. “Yes, Kin, we were. Why are you acting like this is something you don’t know?” Corey grouses.

“Restating it allows me to understand your mind a bit more which will make it easier for me to excavate it. Anyway, before the incident in 9th grade did you realize your feelings about Ms Penn?” Kin asks, waving Corey off. “No, it wasn’t until after she left did I even start to think about feeling that way towards her.” Corey says, picking at his nails. He really needs to repaint them. “Good, good. So when she left the band and stopped being your best friend, did it feel like a break up?” Kin continues. “Dude, you know he felt like it was a break up. We had to drag Corey out of his room because of how bad it got.” Kon cuts in. “Ugh, Kon you just ruined my dramatic ‘this is why you act this way’ speech! Thanks a lot.” Kin replies tersely.

“Your what now?” Corey tries to ask before Kin shushes him. “What I was going to ask after the break up question was going to be some questions about the Ewmans and how you felt after she made friends with them. But since that’s ruined, I’ll just get straight to the point. Corey, you subconsciously want Laney to hurt the way you did when she stopped being your best friend. In order to do that you hurt her verbally in hopes that she’ll feel the way you felt back then.” Kin explains.

Corey blinks. That explains so much. “So how do I stop acting like this?” He asks. Kin shrugs. “I don’t know, unfortunately. I could figure it out by doing some brain scans. And possibly going into your mind and switching around a few things.” He suggests. Corey immediately shields his head. “No we’re not doing that!” He exclaims.

“Calm down, it was just a suggestion.” Kin says, as if Corey’s reaction is unjustified. Corey lets out a sigh. “Kon, what do you think I should do?” He asks. Kon raises an eyebrow. “I think it’s pretty obvious. Stop being a dick and stop flirting with her when she’s clearly not into you anymore.” He says. “But flirting with her is so fun!” Corey whines. “Well stop doing it because you always do it after you’ve been a dick to her.” Kon says, rolling his eyes. “It’s not rocket science, Corey.”

“So I should just leave her be until the Battle Of The Bands?” Corey asks. “I mean that wasn’t what I was suggesting but that does kind of sound somewhat of a good idea.” Kon says. “He’s right, it’ll probably make Laney feel better about having to leave the Ewmans for a month to hang out with us. Which will increase the odds of her joining us permanently.” Kin says, scribbling down some complicated math equation that apparently connects with Laney. “And that’s what I want to happen.” Corey murmurs. Kin and Kon pat him on the back. “That’s what we all want to happen buddy.” Kin says quietly. “So don’t mess it up for us.” Kon teases.

Corey grins. “I’ll do my best. Now let’s get practicing, we can’t get Laney back if we’re not good enough. ”

WE ARE SO BACK! So sorry about how late this is and that it’s short and probably not my best work. I’ve started writing the next chapter so hopefully the next wait won’t be so long. Let me know what you think and as always my asks open if you’re confused about something! I’ll see you next time, bye for now!

#grojband #corey riffin #grojband au #laney penn #corney #kin kujira #kon kujira #corey x laney

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