maplesyrup-ao3
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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The White Doe, Chapter 4
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Fic Rating: E | Chapter Rating: T | AO3 Link
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As she locked eyes with Gold, the collective around her stilled. He stood at the threshold, casually elegant in dark spectacles and suit, cane in hand.
“Do not let that man in!”
Gold smirked. “It seems as if I’ve interrupted something terribly important,” he mused. “How nice.”
“Maurice, shut the bloody door, this instant!”
Maurice moved forward, hand extended to grab the door, when he suddenly stopped and then backed away quickly. Gold’s smirk deepened as he folded his spectacles, tucking them into his jacket. 
“Please,” he continued, tone dry, “do carry on with your excoriation of this young woman. Don’t let me stand in your way.”
Keep reading
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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When Bev sees Father John covered in blood in the corner, takes a deep breath and just goes, “Okay.”
She’s batshit, but that level of acceptance when we’ve clearly fucked up is something we could all use in our lives, let’s be honest.
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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YEP👀
I FUCKING LOVE FATHER JOHN MICHAEL “MASSIVE COCK” PRUITT WITH MY WHOLE ASS
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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“My jeans split from the crotch to the knee. It was just a reminder of the times we live in. You can do all of your best shots, but it’s one foot in front of the other with a lot of wind blowing where you probably wish it wasn’t.”
— Hamish Linklater on his first day of filming “Midnight Mass”
Father Paul/Monsignor Pruitt + favourite outfit requested by anonymous
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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Hamish Linklater as Dr. Jim Ellis in The Stand (2020)
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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i feel scared and horny, thanks for asking.
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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“But yeah, you’re like making this show and you’re like, yeah, hey, save that person over there next to you, it’s not that hard, remember there’s folks all around that you care about.” - Hamish Linklater,  empathetic king
(clip from Hamish Linklater Source)
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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Remember you are d u s t
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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Midnight Mass 1x02
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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Humans are awesome
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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On Hands And Knees (Midnight Mass AU)
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Rating: E | Chapters 1/2 | AO3 Link to full chapter
Thank you @mareyshelley​ for being the best beta and friend and encouraging my self-indulgent deviancy
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Crockett Island, present day…
John couldn’t stand it any longer.
Confessing to the off-island bishop took the edge off, but not for long. Soon after he left confession, the lightness would be subsumed again by the depth of his sin, his desires so blasphemous, so riotous in his soul, that he would rush from the church, embarrassed heat blistering his face.
He forced himself to stand at the bow of the ferry on both crossings every time, hoping the blasts of cold air would freeze the wickedness inside him, but it was a ridiculous wish. No matter what he did, no matter how great the atonement or long the prayers, the impiety refused to be quelled.
The only time he managed to push the thoughts back was during Mass. The recitation of beloved words from God, allowing the Lord to speak through him to his little congregation in their little church, brought a return of the lightness, the feeling of being a child of his Maker. But Mass couldn’t happen all day, every day. And even if it could, holding Mass just to give himself a reprieve of the darkness inside him was as bad as the darkness itself.
The nights, though. They were the hardest.
He always remembered his dreams. Their vivid, lurid details; the sweet headiness of the acts he committed, acts that were committed on him, acts for which he didn’t even know the names. Every morning he’d wake soaked with his own sweat and...other fluids, and shame would burn anew.
He sullenly wondered if it was a test from God; a trial for his soul only, to see if he was truly worthy of the souls in his charge. It wasn’t for him to understand God’s will, only to obey, but the idea of his suffering as a trial made him sad. Perhaps it was punishment, perhaps he wasn’t the priest he needed to be for the island.
It didn’t help that each morning he was also greeted by the chipper knock of Beverly Keane. He could really do without her chatter so early in the day, and that was another sin to add to the list. He should be grateful she cared, grateful to have someone so devoted to their faith helping him in their parish. But he was mostly annoyed.
The sins kept stacking themselves.
He hadn’t slept particularly well the night before and for the first time he could remember, wasn’t looking forward to giving Mass. Only a few people regularly attended daily Mass, and he normally gave them everything he gave to the Sunday crowd, but the energy reserve he would tap into was sorely depleted. Lack of sleep, lack of solutions to rid himself of the nightly desecrations of his dreams, left him testy.
What was he to do, confess to the small collection of parishioners that his unholy dreams had sapped his will to fulfill his charge? They were his sins to deal with, not theirs.
And yet, he couldn’t help the frustration that leaked into his voice as he stood, gripping the podium until his knuckles turned white, trying like mad to focus and failing miserably.
He could feel the eyes of the handful of people in attendance, feel their concern, and he was both grateful and scornful of it. They were good people, his islanders, his flock, kind and caring, but he didn’t deserve an ounce of their compassion.
After fumbling his way through, the Mass blessedly came to an end. Instead of saying his usual goodbyes at the door of the church, he walked off the stage and back into the vestry, hanging his chasuble up with shaking hands.
“Father?”
He jumped, turning to see who’d addressed him.
Mildred Gunning, in her usual cardigan and modest dress, the sleeves of her sweater rolled high on her forearms on account of the rapidly warming late spring mornings they were experiencing. Cold before mass, but the sun burned through it all by the time they finished, and Millie— Mildred, he corrected himself—was clever to plan for it.
“Miss Gunning.” He closed the closet door with a snick . “What, ah, what can I do for you?”
“It’s just, you seem troubled.” She pointed back towards the door that led into the church. “And you didn’t come for your usual greetings. Is everything all right?”
Her brow furrowed with concern and he wanted to shout at her that he wasn’t worthy of it, he was vile, depraved, disgusting—
“Oh, yes, of course,” he said with a light laugh. “I just didn’t sleep well last night, I’m afraid.”
Mildred stepped deeper into the vestry, the little frown never leaving.
“Are you sure that’s all?” She crossed her arms, tilting her head as she looked at him with a slightly assessing gaze, or so he thought. “Forgive me, but you seem...more troubled than that.” Her eyes dropped. “Your hands are shaking.”
Dropping his own eyes to his hands, he saw she was right, and clenched them into fists, shoving them into the pockets of his slacks.
“I-I—”
“Hey,” she said and he looked up to find her close enough to almost touch. He swallowed down the desire to reach out and run his fingers through her hair, see if it was as soft and silky as it looked.
Sinning endlessly.
Read the rest on AO3!
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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Tumblr insists on keeping me marked as not safe for anyone, so my fic posts will go here. Maplesyrupao3 is still my main.
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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part of the reason john is such a sexy compelling character is he’s a malewife who said he was wrong when he messed up we love a king who takes responsibility
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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monsignor john pruitt being a poor litle (guilty) meow meow with eyeliner
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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don’t be suspicious 👀💦💦💦
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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Hamish Linklater as Father Paul in Midnight Mass (2021)
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maplesyrup-ao3 · 3 years ago
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ADHD be like: I need to do do this task before I go to bed. therefore I’ll stay up all night on my phone because I have no motivation to do the thing but I can’t go to bed unless I do it.
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