#i keep coming back and adding things to these tags

[gilbertscurls]

heyyy i love your writing a lot like obssesed but like i have a request where matt and nick talks about how they know from the beginning chris loved the reader even tho he used to deny it all the time

i hope you like it!! <3

obvious — chris sturniolo

Chris always rolled his eyes whenever Matt or Nick would bring it up. For years, they’d been relentless with their teasing, their sly smirks and knowing glances whenever you were around. Chris would always brush them off, claiming they were imagining things. But tonight, sitting on the worn couch in their living room, Matt and Nick weren’t letting it go.

“You’re telling me you never noticed?” Matt asked, leaning forward with a smirk that screamed mischief. “C’mon, Chris, you were so obvious. From day one.”

Chris scoffed, sinking deeper into the couch. “I wasn’t obvious. You guys just love stirring up drama that isn’t there.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, it was there, alright. The way you used to act around her? It was like watching a middle schooler with his first crush. You could barely string a sentence together when she walked into the room.”

Chris crossed his arms defensively. “That’s just because I was caught off guard! She has... an intimidating presence, okay?”

“Intimidating,” Matt repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You mean gorgeous, smart, and the only person who could make you shut up for five seconds.”

Chris rolled his eyes again, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

Nick grinned, sensing victory. “And let’s not forget all the little things you’d do. Like offering to drive her home, even when it was completely out of your way. Or how you’d ‘accidentally’ make too much food just so you could invite her over to eat.”

Chris groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You guys are ridiculous. I was just being nice.”

“Sure,” Matt said with a laugh. “And ‘being nice’ includes learning her favorite coffee order and bringing it to her every other morning?”

Chris opened his mouth to protest but found himself coming up short. Because deep down, he knew they were right.

Nick leaned back, his grin softening. “You might’ve been in denial, but we saw it clear as day. Even when you were pretending she was ‘just a friend,’ the way you looked at her said everything. You were gone for her, man.”

Chris fell silent, his gaze dropping to the floor. For years, he’d convinced himself that his feelings weren’t obvious. That he was being careful, keeping everything under wraps. But maybe he hadn’t been as subtle as he thought.

“She’s not just... anyone,” Chris finally admitted, his voice quiet. “She’s different. She makes me feel... I don’t know, like I want to be better. For her.”

Matt smiled knowingly. “We figured that out a long time ago, bro.”

“And we knew it was only a matter of time before you figured it out too,” Nick added.

Chris sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well... better late than never, right?”

Matt and Nick exchanged a look before Matt clapped Chris on the shoulder. “Exactly. Now go tell her, genius.”

Chris didn’t need to be told twice.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike

[midnight-mourning]

*Taps mic* Heard y'all like Moon around here, you're in luck, this one's for you

massive, MASSIVE thank you to @lunarmoves for beta-reading this chapter!!

She put a lot of time and effort into making my BS readable for y'all and it's greatly appreciated <3 <3 <3

Shay also makes really good dca stuff (also sebastian solace but I know very little about the fish tbh) and you should check her out!

Also, happy 200k+!!! We're only 297k from truly becoming the 500k enemies to lovers slowburn of our dreams lmaoooo

But for real I apologize for such a delay with this one. If you'd like to hear my excuses/reasoning they're below the cut, or you can just go read the chapter whatever suits ya ^-^

Tag list (if you would like added please see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

CW: medical stuff & additionally a bit of unreality mentions

Okay going to try and keep this simple bc I've said parts of it before

So as most of you know, I've been sick for 3 months now

I've now been on two rounds of steroids, and currently on my third round of antibiotics, which are basically keep me fucntional, not improving

besides general discomfort and pain, my memory has been pretty shot at times, I will go through the day and barely remember what I did/what I'm doing/what I need to do

as someone who had brain fog caused by covid a few years ago, this was genuinely a scary experience because ultimately, this has been worse

i've felt out of control of my body, having times where I'm mid thought and then instantly lose it

this is not my normal, I usually pride myself on my memory, so losing it has been incredibly devastating and scary

this was not helped by the fact that the quick care I went to (THREE TIMES for this) basically kind of sort of tried to gaslight me into believing nothing could be done and that it's not an infection

so not only has this entire thing has gotten dragged out so much more, which makes me sad tbh, but I've also felt like I've been going crazy bc it felt like no one was believing me when i said I was sick and not getting any better (including friends, family, coworkers etc, though unintentional on their parts to be fair)

I feel like I've lost three months of my life and coming to terms with that has been, yeah

on top of all that, I'm still in school AND doing grad stuff, and while the school side of things has been okay (thank god), grad's had it's moments, won't get into it but have had multiple issues with my advisor that have been at times just really tough to deal with

Confused spirit got pushed to the back burner, because i quite literally at times could not think, and when it comes to this fic, where there's multiple ongoing plot threads, characterizations, lore, and so on to keep track of, it was just, impossible to me to even consider writing for it

having shorter stuff like promptober, the oneshots and such was great to keep me writing, and also still interact with everyone in the community, plus i had a lot of fun with them so that helped too

this is all to say that I do sincerly apologize for the delay, and at the very least I should've clearly communicated about there being a hiatus, when this all started I thought i'd be down for two weeks max, then as that time kept increasing I just kept putting it off and putting it off because i thought i was going to get better, and then I didn't

I do this for fun and for nothing else, fic writing isn't content (it's engaging with fandom) and i have to remind myself of that sometimes but given that I've been around in some capacity on and off I feel I should've said something in some regard

Having said all that, I'm doing okay now! Still sick, but as long as I'm on meds I'm functional, stuff is getting managable with grad, and hopefully have some fun things coming up irl! Point is, the last three months haven't been the best, but they've been alright, due in part to all the support you all have given me, so thank you for that, can't say it enough :)

Okay, I think that just about covers it, thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you did <3

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between Us: Chapter 9

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Gabby and Glen arrive in Austin, where she gets her first glimpse of his Texas home that perfectly fits him. After a casual tour, they cook dinner together, but a small mishap leaves Gabby with a cut finger. Glen keeps her calm, tending to her with a gentle touch. Later, they settle on the couch to eat, sharing laughter and easy conversation, and Gabby continues to feel like she truly belongs—not just in Glen’s house, but with him.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: Kitchen Knife Cut. Some blood and First Aid.

A/N: Honestly this is just more of our favorite couple being sickeningly sweet and adorable.

I'm so appreciative and grateful for all of the reblogs, comments, and hearts I've received on this story! This story is the first time I've ever written anything with the intention of posting it, and I love reading each and every reblog and comment! Please continue to let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs! Also if you'd like to be tagged please let me know, and I will get you added to the tag list!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado @khouse712

As they stepped off the plane and into the bustline terminal, Glen adjusted his baseball cap and sunglasses, doing his best to remain inconspicuous. Gabby walked beside him, brushing her hair behind her ear as she glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Just as they passed through the gate area, Glen looked over at her, his lips curving into a warm smile. “Welcome to Austin, Gabby.”

She laughed softly, the sound cutting through the din of the crowded terminal. “Thanks,” she replied, matching his pace. “So... are you going to be my personal tour guide while I’m here?”

Glen smirked, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable. “I’ll see if I can fit a tour into our very busy schedule,” he teased, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“Oh, is that right?” Gabby shot back with an arched brow.

“Absolutely. We’ve got important things to do,” Glen said as they approached the baggage claim. “Like introducing you to my mom and sisters. No pressure or anything.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled. “No pressure at all,” she said lightly, though her tone betrayed a hint of nerves.

They waited by the carousel, the familiar hum of luggage belts filling the air. When Gabby’s bright blue suitcase finally came around, Glen stepped forward without hesitation and hefted it off the belt.

“Got it,” he said, balancing it with his carry-on bag and Brisket’s carrier.

Gabby reached out, frowning slightly. “You know, I can carry my own bag.”

Glen gave her a skeptical look as he hoisted the suitcase to test its weight. “Yeah, no. This thing weighs a ton. What’d you pack, bricks?”

“Funny,” she deadpanned, crossing her arms. “Seriously, though, I’ve got it. You’re already carrying enough.” She added as she motioned towards Glen who had Brisket’s carrier and his own carry on bag on his shoulders in addition to now trying to pull her suitcase behind him.

But Glen just shook his head, determined. “Not happening.”

Gabby huffed and then gestured toward his full hands. “Okay, but you’re going to drop something at this rate. Come on, just let me help.”

Pausing mid-step, Glen gave her a considering look, then grinned mischievously. “Alright. You really want to carry something?”

“Yes,” she insisted, rolling her eyes at his exaggerated tone.

Without another word, Glen handed over Brisket’s carrier. “Here you go. You get to carry the most important passenger.”

Gabby stared down at Brisket, who let out a soft, curious bark from inside the carrier. She couldn’t help but laugh as she took it from Glen. 

“You’re such a gentleman,” she teased, holding up the carrier.

“Always,” he replied with a wink before he continued toward the exit, effortlessly rolling her suitcase behind him.

Gabby followed, adjusting the carrier on her arm and shaking her head with a smile.

As they stepped out into the Texas sunshine and headed toward the parking lot, Gabby couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. This trip was about to bring her even closer to Glen’s life, and she wasn’t sure what to expect—but with him by her side, she was ready to take it on.

As they drove out of the airport and into the heart of Austin, Gabby stared out the window, taking in the lively energy of the city. The streets were buzzing with people strolling between colorful shops, food trucks parked along the sidewalks, and music drifting out of open doors. It was a stark contrast to the sprawling chaos and noise of Los Angeles or the familiarity of her old life in Kansas City.

“First impressions?” Glen asked, glancing at her as he navigated the streets with practiced ease.

“It’s charming,” she said with a smile, her gaze catching on a couple of musicians strumming guitars on a street corner. “Lively, but in a different way than L.A.”

Glen nodded, his hands resting casually on the wheel. “It’s got its own vibe, that’s for sure. Just wait until you see the hill country outside the city. That’s my favorite part.”

Gabby looked at him, noticing how the tension he seemed to carry in Los Angeles had already started to dissolve. His shoulders weren’t quite so stiff, and even his voice seemed lighter.

“You’re different here,” she said softly, almost to herself.

He shot her a quick look, one brow raised. “Different how?”

She smiled, shrugging. “I don’t know… more relaxed, I guess. You’re not even home yet technically, but you seem... lighter.”

He chuckled at that, a low, warm sound that filled the car. “Yeah, well, I guess this place does that to me. It’s where I grew up, where my roots are. There’s just something about being back here that makes everything else feel... simpler.”

As the downtown skyline began to fade into the distance, replaced by quiet neighborhoods and stretches of open space, Gabby could see what he meant. The roads became less crowded, lined with towering oak trees and wildflowers dotting the ditches.

“You ever miss it?” she asked, her voice curious. “Living here full-time, I mean.”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “L.A. has its perks, don’t get me wrong. And it makes sense for me to be there for work. That’s why I still have my place out there. But this…” He gestured out the window toward the rolling hills that were starting to peek through the horizon. “This is home. It’s where I can just be me, you know? No cameras, no noise, no chaos. Just Glen.”

Gabby’s heart softened at his words, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I like just Glen,” she said, her voice sincere.

He glanced at her again, this time with a small, genuine smile. “Yeah? Well, he likes you too.”

The quiet intimacy of the moment settled between them as they continued their drive. Gabby couldn’t help but admire how at ease Glen seemed here, his hand resting comfortably on the gear shift, the sunlight catching the curve of his jawline.

By the time they turned onto a winding road leading out toward the countryside, the view opened up into sprawling stretches of land. Gabby leaned closer to the window, her eyes widening.

“Wow,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful out here.”

“You ain’t seen anything yet,” Glen said, his voice tinged with pride. “Wait until we get to the house.”

She turned to him, her curiosity piqued. “Alright, tour guide, you’ve got me intrigued.”

He grinned but didn’t say more, letting the Texas landscape do all the talking. The further they drove, the more Gabby found herself relaxing too, swept up in the calm that seemed to radiate from both Glen and the place he called home.

As Glen rolls up to the start of the driveway, Gabby notices the wrought iron gate looming ahead, guarding the property. Glen rolls down the window of the truck and punches in a code on the keypad. The gate opens with a soft hum, and they continue down the long gravel driveway, the crunch of tires beneath them the only sound breaking the stillness of the land.

Nestled among the towering oak trees, the home appears to rise from the earth, its pale walls glowing softly in the late afternoon sun. The roofline is low and sleek, dark metal panels contrasting with the rustic stone, giving it a subtle modern touch. A stone path leads up to the front door, flanked by neatly manicured landscaping—grasses and flowers swaying gently in the breeze. The scene is nothing like she expected, yet it feels impossibly fitting for the man she’s come to know over the past month.

“Wow,” she breathes, her eyes wide, not just at the house but the land that stretches out around it, open and expansive. “This is your house?” She asks, voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Like ALL of this?"

Glen smirks, a glint of pride in his eyes as he nods. "Bought it last year. Been eyeing this area for a while. When it came up for sale, it just felt right. This is where I come when I need to get away from everything.” His gaze sweeps over the land around them, an unspoken connection to the place that only he seems to understand.

He steps out of the truck and gestures toward the house. "Come on, let me give you the tour."

Gabby follows him, her boots crunching on the gravel as they make their way toward the front door. The door opens with a soft creak, and the moment she steps inside, the shift in atmosphere is immediate. The space is expansive, airy, and yet warm, with a perfect blend of rugged charm and understated modern luxury.

The living room was a warm, inviting space that struck the perfect balance between rustic charm and modern elegance. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which framed lush green trees and a serene view of the water beyond. The walls, made of creamy stone, complemented the rich, honey-toned wood beams that ran across the vaulted ceiling, adding a natural warmth to the room.

At the center of the space was a grand fireplace, its tapered design drawing the eye upward. Above it hung an intricately woven rug in warm red and earthy tones, giving the room a personal and artistic touch. Plush seating was arranged around a low, solid coffee table—two sleek leather chairs with soft, neutral cushions, a sofa in a deep, rust-colored fabric, and a matching wooden-framed couch with cozy taupe pillows.

A woven area rug tied the seating area together, while textured throw pillows and a soft blanket added layers of comfort. On the far side of the room, a vintage console table, adorned with carefully chosen decor and a hint of greenery, completed the look.

They move to the kitchen, where the dark black cupboards and glossy marble countertops create a striking contrast against the white walls. Stainless steel appliances reflect the natural light pouring in through the windows, while exposed beams in natural oak add a rustic charm to the otherwise sleek and modern space. It’s a space for someone who appreciates both design and functionality, and Gabby can’t help but be impressed by the seamless integration of the two.

Glen leads her down a hallway towards the bedroom. He points out the guest room on the right. It’s a quet and serene room with beige walls and carpeted floors. The bed has a white comforter and some green throw pillows that add a touch of color but still look cozy and inviting.

“You’re welcome to stay in here if you don’t feel comfortable staying in my room.” He says softly, his voice a little softer now. She can tell he’s hoping she stays with him in his room, but doesn’t want to push or pressure her.

Gabby smiles softly, touched by his thoughtfulness. “It looks cozy in here,” she says, stepping inside to take in the space a little more. It feels welcoming, just like the rest of the house.

Next, they continue down the hallway. Glen points out the main bathroom and then opens the door to the left. He leads her into the master bedroom, and Gabby immediately stops in her tracks. It wasn’t at all what she expected. Which in hindsight, she wasn’t sure quite what she expected from a 35 year old bachelor. But it wasn’t this.

The room was both strikingly modern and somehow also seemed almost personal, a reflection of a man with layered tastes. The walls were painted a deep charcoal gray, creating a cozy yet bold atmosphere that drew her in. The centerpiece of the room was a king-sized bed with a headboard made of reclaimed wood, its warm tones breaking up the darkness of the walls. The bedding was a mix of textures—soft white sheets layered with a dark gray comforter, patterned throw pillows, and a luxurious fur blanket draped across the foot. A low bench of smooth, solid wood sat at the end of the bed, simple yet elegant in its design.

Above the bed hung a large abstract painting, its earthy tones of bronze and black blending seamlessly into the space. It was lit by two pendant lights suspended on either side of the bed, their glass shades casting a warm, ambient glow over the nightstands beneath them. The nightstands themselves were sleek and minimal, adorned with a few thoughtful touches—a small sculpture, a stack of books, and what looked like a vintage alarm clock.

The floor was made of rich, polished wood, partially covered by a large, intricately patterned rug in shades of cream, black, and brown. Gabby’s eyes were drawn to the tall windows that dominated one wall, their black frames perfectly complementing the dark color palette. Beyond the glass was a private deck and a view of the snowy landscape outside, the natural light softening the room’s bold edges.

She couldn’t help but smile, caught off guard by how perfectly this space encapsulated Glen. It was masculine without being overbearing, stylish without being pretentious, and just comfortable enough to hint at the quiet thoughtfulness he often hid behind his teasing. It was the kind of room you wanted to linger in, much like the man who owned it.

Turning to look at him, Gabby raised an eyebrow. “This is... unexpected,” she said, her voice soft with wonder.

Glen smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Unexpected good or unexpected bad?”

“Unexpected perfect,” she admitted, letting her gaze wander over the room once more. “It’s so... you.”

“It’s kind of a mix of styles,” Glen admits, almost sheepish as he watches her reaction. "I wanted it to feel kind of both modern and... comfortable, you know? This is where I spend a lot of my time when I’m home. I come in here and read scripts or respond to emails a lot in here.”

Gabby nods, absorbing the energy of the space. "I can see why," she says softly. "It’s really... perfect."

Glen gives a small chuckle. “Glad you think so. I hope you’ll be comfortable here this week.”

He stood a few steps behind her, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his jeans. There was something almost vulnerable in the way he glanced between her and the room, as if her opinion mattered more than he cared to admit.

She turned to face him, her chest tightening with a sudden wave of emotion. It was only then that it struck her—this wasn’t just any place. This wasn’t like his rental in Los Angeles. This was his home, his real home. The ranch, with its wide-open space and weathered charm, was his pride and joy. Every detail, every corner of this house, felt steeped in him: grounded, steady, and quietly intentional.

But bringing her here, to the place that clearly meant so much to him, felt huge for their very new relationship. He wanted her here. He wanted her to see this side of him, the side that wasn’t shaped by movie sets and red carpets but by something far more authentic. And somehow, knowing that made her fall for him just a little more.

“It’s perfect,” she said softly, her fingers brushing over the edge of the wooden bedframe as she turned her gaze back to the room. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He shrugged one shoulder, trying to play it off, but the faint curve of his lips betrayed him. “Figured it was time to show you where I come from.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile. “Well, it’s definitely not L.A.”

“Nope. It’s better.” His tone was light, but there was an undeniable sincerity in his words.

She nodded, looking out at the sun-drenched fields again. She could feel it now, too—the sense of peace that seemed to hum through the air, the way the ranch felt like an anchor to something truer and simpler.

After giving her a moment to take in the master bedroom, Glen guides her through the house again, back toward the kitchen. The space opens up into a large deck, a smooth wooden surface that stretches out from the house, offering a sweeping view of the massive backyard. The sun is beginning to dip lower, casting a golden hue across the landscape. Gabby’s gaze follows the expansive lawn, where a firepit sits surrounded by stone seating. Beyond that, the green of the land rolls on, stretching out until it reaches a distant body of water—either a river or lake—glimmering faintly in the fading light. In the far distance, a barn stands, old but sturdy, its white paint peeking out from behind a cluster of trees.

Glen notices her eyes linger on the barn and grins. 

“That’s the party barn,” he says with a wink, leaning against the railing beside her. “Not much happening there right now, but when I’ve got some time off, that’s where the guys and I go.”

Gabby laughs softly, picturing him with his friends, all of them hanging out in a place like this, enjoying the solitude of the land. “You guys must have some fun stories out there,” she says, her voice light. 

She leans forward, resting her elbows on the railing, taking in the scenery with a relaxed sigh. The quiet beauty of the place settles over her, the peace of the land wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

Glen steps closer, his presence radiating behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist, his body pressing against hers as he rests his chin gently on her shoulder. The warmth of his breath near her ear sends a shiver down her spine.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and sincere. The words settle in her chest like something precious.

Gabby’s heart flutters at the unexpected intimacy of the moment, the weight of the words not lost on her. She turns her head just enough to meet his eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips. He presses a gentle kiss to her cheek, the contact brief but tender. It lingers on her skin, sending a rush of warmth through her. 

“I’m going to grab our bags from the truck,” he says, stepping back slightly, though his hands remain on her. “Feel free to keep enjoying the view. I’ll be right back.”

Gabby watches him walk away, her mind still caught in the gentle comfort of his touch. As he disappears back inside, she leans over the railing again, letting herself relax completely. The quiet of the evening, the distant sound of wind rustling through the trees, and the sight of the water shimmering in the fading light all blend together, and for the first time since arriving, Gabby feels at peace. It’s a feeling she’s getting used to the more time she spends with Glen.

Meanwhile, Glen walks back into the house with their bags, he pauses and takes a moment to glance at Gabby, still leaning over the railing as she takes in the view. The soft evening light seemed to glow around her, making her look even more at ease than when they'd arrived. He smiles quietly to himself before walking back into the house.

He takes the bags down the hall, his mind lingering on the thought of her staying in the guest room. It’s a comfortable space, perfectly fine for her, but the idea of having her close to him, in his own room, is hard to shake. Of course, he’ll be okay with whatever she chooses. If she’s more comfortable in the guest room, than that’s okay. He shakes the thought away as he sets her bag down on the bed in the guest room and straightens up, trying to focus on the evening ahead.

When he returns to the living room, Gabby is already inside, taking in the kitchen.. Glen leans against the doorway for a moment, watching her as she surveys the space, almost like she’s settling in for a moment of peace.

“You hungry?” Glen asks, his voice casual but laced with an underlying warmth.

Gabby looks over at him, nodding with a smile. “Yeah, actually, I am.”

“I had my mom run out for some groceries before we got here,” he admits, stepping into the kitchen. “There should be plenty of stuff to work with. What do you feel like?”

Gabby shrugs, glancing over at the fridge. “Something quick and easy sounds good,” she says, her smile widening. “We don’t have to go all out.”

Glen laughs, relieved. “Definitely not. I was thinking something simple. Maybe stir-fry? Or tacos?”

She grins, the light in her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tacos sound perfect.”

They both get to work, the easy rhythm of being in the kitchen together settling around them. Glen pulls out a few chicken breasts from the fridge and starts prepping the protein, slicing it into strips with quick, practiced motions. Gabby, meanwhile, moves toward the counter to start chopping vegetables—peppers, onions, and a handful of fresh cilantro. The space between them feels comfortable like they’ve done this together a hundred times before.

As they work, Glen glances at her now and then, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. There’s something about the way she’s so at ease in the kitchen, moving with a natural grace. She’s focused, but there’s a lightness to her that makes everything seem effortless.

“I’m impressed,” he says as she arranges the vegetables, wiping her hands on the towel. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”

Gabby raises an eyebrow, shooting him a playful glance. “You didn’t think I’d be any good at this?”

Glen chuckles, shaking his head. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I’m glad I’m not the only one who knows how to cook around here.”

“Maybe you would’ve known sooner if you ever let me cook.” She quips back.

He just laughs as he looks over at her.

As they continue preparing dinner, the easy rhythm between them persists. Gabby’s focused on chopping vegetables, gliding the knife smoothly through the peppers and onions. The kitchen is filled with the hum of sizzling chicken and the soft sound of the knife hitting the cutting board.

Then, with a slight misstep, Gabby's hand jerks just as she cuts into a pepper. The blade catches her skin, and a sharp sting runs through her finger. She immediately stops, setting the knife down and cursing under her breath as she glances down.

“Damn it,” she mutters to herself, her finger now starting to redden with blood. 

Glen doesn’t notice at first, still busy with the chicken. Gabby shakes her hand, hoping it’ll stop, but when she looks at it again, the blood starts to pool around the cut then begins to run down her finger.

"Uh, Glen..." Gabby's voice cracks a little, the panic starting to creep in.

“Gabby?” His boots thudded against the wooden floor as he made his way to her. “What happened?”

“I—” she stammered, her face pale as she held up her trembling hand. “I—I cut myself. Glen, it’s bleeding a lot. Oh God, I think I’m going to—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Glen stepped in, his voice calm and steady, grounding her. He reached for her wrist, his fingers warm and grounding as he gently pulled her hand closer. “Let me see.”

She reluctantly let him examine the wound, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. Her free hand braced against the counter as her knees wobbled.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Glen said after a beat, his tone calm and reassuring. “It’s a clean cut, nothing too deep. You’re gonna be fine.”

Gabby didn’t feel fine. Her vision swam, and her chest felt tight. “Are you sure? What if I need stitches? What if we have to go to the hospital? What if—”

“Gabby.” His voice softened, and she dared to look up at him. His green eyes were steady, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. “You’re not dying. I promise.”

“I’m not good with blood,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I noticed,” he said, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he guided her toward the sink.

She stumbled after him, her hand throbbing, her heart racing. The sight of the blood smeared across her palm made her stomach twist again, and she squeezed her eyes shut as Glen turned on the faucet.

“Deep breath,” he said, his hand firm but gentle as he held hers under the cool water. “You’re tougher than this. I’ve seen you handle way worse.”

“That’s debatable,” she muttered, wincing as the water stung.

“Nope. I’ve got evidence. Like that time I made you watch a scary movie with me and you left nail marks on my arm.”

Gabby cracked an eye open to glare at him. “This is not the same as a scary movie.”

“Fair point,” he teased, his grin widening as he turned off the tap and reached for a clean dish towel. “The slasher in the move was way scarier.”

Despite herself, she let out a shaky laugh. “You’re the worst.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Glen said lightly as he patted her hand dry. But his teasing faded as he inspected the cut again, his focus sharpening. “Hold still,” he murmured, turning to open a drawer and then pull out a first aid kit inside.

Gabby stayed rooted in place, her pulse still pounding in her ears but slowing under the calm efficiency of Glen’s movements. His hands were steady, his touch sure as he opened the kit and pulled out antiseptic and bandages.

“This might sting a little,” he warned, dabbing at the cut with a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic.

She hissed, her fingers twitching in his grasp. “A little?”

“Okay, maybe a lot,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But you’re doing great.”

Gabby bit her lip, her eyes fixed on his face instead of the wound. He was so calm, as if patching her up was just another chore on the ranch. For all his teasing, he took the task seriously, his brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully wrapped a bandage around her hand.

“There,” he said after a moment, stepping back to admire his work. “Good as new.”

Gabby glanced down at the neatly wrapped bandage and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The bleeding had stopped, and the throbbing was already fading to a dull ache. “I... guess it’s not that bad,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Told you,” Glen said with a wink, leaning back against the counter. “You just needed a cowboy-slash-surgeon to handle it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic,” he shot back, his grin playful.

But as she looked at him, standing there with that easy confidence and those steady hands that had just taken care of her without a second thought, her heart did a little flip. There was something about the way he’d stepped in, so calm and capable, that made her feel... safe.

“Thanks, Glen,” she said softly, her voice catching slightly.

His teasing smirk softened into something warmer. “Anytime, Gabby.”

Gabby lingered there, cradling her bandaged hand against her chest as she watched Glen. He had gone back to tidying up the counter, wiping away the faint smear of blood as if patching her up had been no big deal. But to her, it had been a very big deal. He’d been calm when she wasn’t, steady when she was spiraling. She bit her bottom lip, her heart doing a funny little flip in her chest.

This man—this steady, confident, infuriatingly charming man—was becoming so much more to her than she’d anticipated. It wasn’t just the way he’d taken care of her tonight. It was everything about him—the way he teased her, the way he made her laugh, the way he somehow always seemed to know exactly what to say to settle her nerves. She realized then, with startling clarity, that she didn’t just like Glen. She really liked him. She maybe even loved him.

And that thought scared her. Because if this didn’t work out—if she let herself fall for him completely and it all went wrong—she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pick up the pieces.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice him turn back to her until his voice broke through.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, his tone soft, his hazel eyes glinting with curiosity. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She blinked, realizing she’d been staring, and felt heat rush to her cheeks. Before she could come up with a quick excuse, Glen stepped closer, his hands finding their way to her waist. He pulled her gently toward him, the warmth of his touch grounding her in a way that made her heart thud even harder.

“Well?” he prompted, tilting his head as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “What’s on your mind, Gabby?”

She smiled up at him, her fingers brushing lightly against the front of his shirt, where she could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath the fabric. “I think…” She hesitated, her smile softening as her eyes met his. “I think I’m in trouble.”

Glen’s brows furrowed, and the humor faded from his expression, replaced by something more serious. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice quieter now, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Gabby bit her lip again, her gaze flicking down to her hand resting on his chest. Her thumb moved absently over the fabric as she searched for the right words. “I mean… I like you, Glen,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like, really like you. And that scares me, because if this doesn’t work out…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t think I’ll walk away unscathed.”

For a moment, Glen didn’t say anything. He just looked at her, his eyes searching hers, his hands steady on her waist. Then, his grip tightened just slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirked into a small, reassuring smile.

“Well,” he said, his voice low and warm, “then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on letting this not work out.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, the fear she’d been holding onto melted away under the weight of his words and the way he was looking at her—like she was the only thing in the room that mattered.

And maybe, just maybe, falling for Glen wasn’t as scary as it seemed.

Glen’s gaze softened as he searched her face, his hands tightening slightly at her waist, pulling her just a little closer. The air between them felt heavier, charged with a warmth that made Gabby’s chest ache in the best way. Then, without another word, he leaned down and kissed her.

It was soft at first, almost tentative, as if he was testing the waters. But when her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and she kissed him back, he deepened it, his hands sliding from her waist to cradle her face. Time seemed to stand still as the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of them in the quiet hum of the kitchen.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his lips curling into a smile. “For the record,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I really, really like you too.”

Gabby laughed softly, her hands still fisted in his shirt as her cheeks flushed. “You better,” she teased, her voice light despite the nervous flutter in her chest.

Glen kissed her again, quick and firm, before stepping back and brushing his thumb against her jaw. “Alright,” he said, his tone returning to that easy confidence she knew so well, “you should probably take it easy after that serious injury of yours. I’ll finish up dinner.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she tilted her head at him. “It’s a cut, Glen. I’m not a war hero coming home from battle.”

“Uh-huh,” he said with a smirk, wiping his hands on a towel. “And yet, you looked ready to pass out ten minutes ago.”

“I did not,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes.

Glen chuckled, stepping closer again. “Sure, tough girl. Go sit down in the living room before I have to carry you there myself.”

Gabby raised a brow, her lips quirking into a challenge. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His smirk widened. “Wouldn’t I?”

Before she could retort, Glen moved fast, his arms wrapping around her as he effortlessly hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Glen!” she shrieked, laughing despite herself as she kicked her legs in protest. “Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully, his tone utterly unapologetic as he carried her toward the living room. “You had your chance to go willingly.”

“This isn’t fair!” she exclaimed, her fists playfully hitting his back as she squirmed. “I can’t fight back when you’re manhandling me like this!”

“That’s the idea,” he said with a laugh, adjusting her weight slightly as if she weighed nothing. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.”

“Next time? Oh, you’re dreaming, cowboy,” she shot back, kicking her feet again for good measure.

Glen only laughed harder as he reached the couch. With a careful yet exaggerated flourish, he set her down, smirking down at her as she fixed him with a mock glare.

“Comfortable?” he asked innocently, crossing his arms and leaning slightly to one side as if daring her to challenge him again.

Gabby folded her arms and leaned back against the cushions with an exaggerated huff, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn,” Glen shot back, his grin as smug as ever. “Now stay there while I finish dinner. Doctor’s orders.”

Gabby rolled her eyes again, but this time it was accompanied by a laugh as she watched him head back toward the kitchen. 

“You’re not a doctor! Have you ever even played one?” She teased. But as much as she hated to admit it, being taken care of by Glen—and teased in the process—felt a little too good.

About fifteen minutes later, Gabby was curled up on the couch, idly scrolling through her phone as the sound of clinking dishes and the occasional hum of Glen’s voice drifted in from the kitchen. The scent of seasoned chicken and warm tortillas filled the air, making her stomach growl in anticipation.

When Glen finally appeared, he was carrying two plates balanced perfectly in his large hands. The sight of him—a little more relaxed now, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and that easy grin on his face—made her heart do an annoyingly giddy flip.

“Dinner is served,” he said, setting one plate down in front of her before placing his own on the coffee table.

Gabby smiled, sitting up a little straighter and taking the plate. “Thank you, Chef Glen. Smells amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his grin widening as he straightened up. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You want anything?”

She hesitated for a moment, looking down at her plate, then back up at him. “Sure. Surprise me.”

“Alright,” he said with a wink, heading back toward the kitchen.

A minute later, he returned with two glasses—one filled with iced tea for her and the other with what looked like a cold beer for himself. He set hers down on the coffee table next to her plate before sinking onto the couch beside her, the cushions dipping under his weight.

“There you go,” he said, nodding toward the glass. “Extra ice, just how you like it.”

Gabby raised a brow at him, her lips tugging into a smile. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “I’ve got a good memory when it comes to important things.”

Her smile softened as she picked up the glass, the cold condensation pressing against her fingers. “Thank you,” she said quietly, looking over at him as her heart did that fluttery thing again.

He glanced at her, his brow furrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For…” She paused, taking a sip of the tea before setting it down and shrugging. “For taking care of me. For being you, I guess.”

Glen’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned back against the couch, one arm resting along the back as his eyes stayed on her. “Well, I like taking care of you,” he said simply.

Gabby laughed softly, shaking her head as she picked up her taco. The two of them settled into a comfortable rhythm, sharing bites of food and bits of conversation between mouthfuls. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the living room, blending with the soft hum of the evening.

And as Gabby sat there beside him, eating chicken tacos on the couch like they’d done it a hundred times before, she couldn’t help but feel like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

As the last of their tacos disappeared, Gabby leaned back into the couch, setting her empty plate on the coffee table with a satisfied sigh. Glen did the same, stretching his legs out in front of him, his socked feet brushing against hers.

“Okay,” she said, wiping her hands on a napkin. “I’ll admit it—those tacos were amazing. You’ve officially ruined takeout for me.”

Glen smirked, leaning his head back against the couch. “High praise. I’ll take it.”

She gave him a playful nudge with her foot, which he caught with his, trapping it gently between his. For a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint creak of the house settling and the soft clinking of their glasses on the table.

Then, Glen tilted his head toward her, his expression thoughtful. “What do you say we change into something more comfortable? Get cozy for the rest of the night?”

Gabby arched a brow, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Are you trying to call it a night already? It’s barely past eight, old man.”

“Nah,” he said with an easy grin. “Not saying we need to sleep. Just thought we could ditch the jeans and get into some pajamas or sweats. You know—real comfort.”

He pushed off the couch, offering her a hand to help her up. “Go ahead and get changed and I’ll met you in my room in ten.”

Gabby took his hand but didn’t move right away, giving him an exaggeratedly confused look. “Your room? I thought we were sleeping separately tonight. Wasn’t I supposed to take the guest room?”

For a moment, Glen’s entire face fell. His hand remained in hers, but his shoulders sagged as he stared at her, completely speechless—a rare thing for him.

Her grin widened as she shoved his chest lightly and stood. “Relax, cowboy,” she said with a laugh. “I’m joking. You should’ve seen your face, though!”

He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips twitching like he was fighting a grin. “You’re real funny, you know that?”

“Yeah,” she said, still chuckling as she headed toward her overnight bag by the door. “But you like it.”

“Mm-hm,” he called after her, his voice laced with amusement. “You better sleep with one eye open tonight.”

Gabby just laughed, already thinking about how his expression would probably replay in her head for the rest of the evening.

Gabby smirked over her shoulder, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Ooh, I’m so scared of you,” she teased, winking before turning on her heel and heading toward the hallway.

She could practically hear him smirking behind her. “You should be,” Glen’s voice followed, playful but low. He was already on her tail, footsteps steady but quick, matching her pace.

Before she could even make it halfway down the hall, she felt his hands slip around her waist, his strong arms locking around her like a vice. With an effortless move, Glen lifted her off the ground, spinning her around so that she was facing him, her feet dangling slightly.

“What the—? Glen!” Gabby let out a surprised laugh, her hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders to steady herself. She playfully kicked her legs, trying to wiggle free.

He grinned, his voice a teasing whisper. “Told you to sleep with one eye open.”

Her legs kicked out in mock protest, and she gave his chest a soft shove, but she wasn’t really trying to escape. “It’s not fair,” she muttered, pretending to glare up at him, “that you can manhandle me like this.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You love it.”

“I do not,” she shot back quickly, even though the warmth blooming in her chest said otherwise.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed as he slowly lowered her back to her feet, but kept his arms around her. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

Gabby bit her lip to stop herself from grinning too wide, but it didn’t work. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but there was no malice in the words—just affection.

“You’ve got that right.” His grin softened, and he leaned in to kiss her temple, a quick, tender moment before he nudged her toward the hallway again. “Now, go get changed. I’ll be in my room.”

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  7 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: things have just heated up, but the weather is getting colder. the early winter breeze brings in someone you really would prefer not to see.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6 | chapter 7

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Corinthians 13:4-7: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

The act had cracked open his heart or perhaps created more tender spots. 

Father Sylus generally perceived his life rationally, involving humility over pride. 

She had finally let him lay his hands on her, and maybe that was the most selfish thought he had ever had - thinking that she was made for him. After everything played out, her nervous glances and the embarrassment she showed. And yet, with the first real touch they could have, she dove into it with less hesitation, allowing for the most physical of interactions. The way the desire ignited in her gaze, like her body knew exactly what she wanted. It had consumed him, and he had given in right there, held at her mercy. This was something real that had taken place. 

Something almost sacred. 

It took the word ‘faith’ and made it physical and tangible. What was faith, really, but trusting in something greater than yourself and so much deeper than just being optimistic? 

For the first time, he realized there may be more meaning for him in the world, something beyond faith and what he had set in motion for himself. There was a shift in his path, and it would end in…well, he wasn’t entirely sure. The promise he had made to God was what brought him to this town in the first place. The first pangs of lust rose unintentionally and unwantedly. It was the feelings he didn’t expect. When she came to him - so nervous, so desperate, and the offer was laid bare, the absolute rawest version of her standing before him… 

Whether it was part of the Lord's plan or not, the outcome truly mattered. The details and circumstances were insignificant in comparison, and that was perhaps the most perplexing aspect of the entire experience.

“Father, are you listening?” Talia’s words interrupted his thoughts. 

Father Sylus blinked and raised his gaze, locking eyes with the woman sitting across from him in the small diner. Her intense blue eyes were firm and kind as she tightly held a cup of coffee. "I apologize, Talia. Could you repeat the question?"

“Something’s got you distracted.” She said, studying him. Her eyes squinted, leaving him to wonder exactly how perceptive she was.

To say she was perceptive would be an understatement; she was downright nosy.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the quiet, but usually you pay better attention. Everything okay? Are you getting another migraine? Need more Tylenol? Here, I have some right in here.” Her hand searched for the bottle in her bag resting on the seat beside her. 

Father Sylus coughed out a sharp, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s fine. I’m alright, honestly. Just a bit tired today, I guess.” 

It wasn’t completely a lie. It had been two days since he’d seen Y/N, and she’d been filling every moment of unoccupied thought with the memory of her scent, the sight of her. She hadn’t appeared after that evening, which was fine. Perhaps she was making time for her feelings, and it wouldn’t have been right for him to question her on it.

“Rafayel. I was talking about Rafayel.” 

At that, he straightened, pressing his palms to the cool laminate table top. “Yes, absolutely. Go ahead.” 

Of course. When was the woman not talking about her nephew, who had been giving her hell by simply existing in a world that wasn’t made for him?

Despite listening to her for months, he held back from saying what he really wanted to tell her: "What if the path you're urging him to take isn't actually what's best for him?" He couldn't help but think that someone as devoted as Talia should know not to force their religion onto others. The words were sitting on his tongue, but the need to come out and say it wasn’t there. He had no intention of being unkind or causing any unnecessary pain, especially to an older woman who was only doing her best.

Father Sylus parted his lips, “He’ll figure it out eventually. Just give him some room.” 

But the woman shook her head, sighing deeply. “Well, the last time we gave him “room, “he ran off to Europe and—” her mouth pressed into a thin line, deep in thought and deliberation. She obviously held some amount of disappointment or perhaps empathy about her nephew's situation. Somehow, at that moment, Father Sylus imagined the poor woman feared the worst.

“At least Y/N knows what she wants out of life, right?” Talia asked. “Still young, but a good head on her shoulders. Rafayel should be more like her, dontcha think?” 

The corners of his mouth curved up, unable to help it. Y/N was rather amazing , wasn’t she? He took a sip of coffee and said nothing. 

“Something funny?” Talia leaned forward.

He made a non-committal motion with his hand. “Just…how aware you seem to be of my parishioners' lives.” 

“Yeah,” the woman chuckled, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Well, you know as well as anyone, or perhaps better, that nothing is a secret around this town. Besides, Y/N is one of the sweetest girls around; everyone’s always going on about her.” 

“Why do you say that?” He needed more input. As much information as he could get, his pulse spiked in anticipation. It was like being thirteen and asking a neighbor about the girl down the street. 

Talia frowned. “Aren’t you familiar with her?” His expression must’ve given him away as her eyes brightened, and she laughed. “You really aren’t much on the gossip.” 

Again, he had no retort. She wasn’t exactly wrong. 

“She’s just a lovely person,” Talia concluded. “Always generous, though stubborn as an ox sometimes. Headstrong. But a good, gentle girl. Devout? Well, not really. But generous and kind.” 

Just another affirmation.

“Anyway,” she shook her head, smiling as she checked her watch. “I actually should run, I forgot I’m having company over.” She adjusted in the plastic chair, putting the bottle of Tylenol back in the bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. 

“You know, Father, you should really see about getting the boiler in the church fixed before it gets colder out. Something is wrong with that thing, It never gets fully warm .” 

Father Sylus gave her a gentle smile as he stood, waving her off. “Bless you, Talia.” 

“Do you think a blessing makes my prediction not true? Just because I was cursed with a smart mouth doesn’t mean your holy presence can stop it.” 

He laughed again, a sound that felt too loud. Talia crossed her arms in return, gesturing with her chin out of the window they had been sitting next to. “You know,” she told him, “Xavier is pretty good at that. Fixing things.”

With furrowed brows, the priest looked out the window at the hardware across the street - the one Y/N now stepped out of. He squinted, feeling lightheaded at the sudden jolt of his heart. Immediately, images of her beneath him resurfaced. The feeling of her skin on his, the overwhelming surge of bliss, as vivid as a splash of sunlight. 

She was removing one of the signs from the door, replacing it with a new one, most likely advertising a sale. 

“That is a good idea,” Father Sylus murmured, words tumbling from his mouth on their own. Eyes remained fixated on her as if she might disappear if he looked away. 

“Thanks. I have them sometimes.” Talia’s voice said somewhere in the background. 

“Well,” he nearly sighed. “Have a great day, then.” His brain became fuzzy, and some odd internal pull brought him away from the table. Had him paying and grabbing his jacket on autopilot. He pushed back the door and stepped out into the afternoon, stepping off the curb and right in front of a car. Brakes squealing, it stopped only a few feet from him. The driver shot him a glare as he stepped back onto the sidewalk, both hands held up in apology. 

“Hey! You alright, Father?” Y/N called, watching with wide eyes from the entrance of the store. 

“Just fine!” He returned a bright, albeit shaky smile, and hurried across the street before he could cause any road-related casualties. 

Something bright rose in Y/Ns expression, like something from a terrible romance movie. All the anxiety and tension fled as she motioned him towards her, resting her weight against the brick wall near the door. The corners of her lips curled up, “It’s good to see you.” 

Father Sylus opened his mouth, but his brain was short-circuiting. The way she looked at him made him weak. Why now, of all times, did he notice his internal struggle? 

“Yeah,” his voice cracked. Clearing his throat and straightening his jacket, he tried again. “Good to see you too, Y/N.” He took a step closer and let his focus brush over her cheeks, down her neck, resting for a moment on those lips. The ones that had been flush against his own a few days before. Searing and consuming kisses and a passionate embrace that had left him a little mindless for a good half hour afterward. 

“Listen,” he started, still a little dumstruck and distracted. 

She looked up at him expectantly, then tilted her head slightly, raising a brow. It was quite possibly the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed and all he could focus on as he tried to find the strength to continue. 

“Y/N, uh…” 

The door to the shop opened, and Xavier stepped out, causing them to take a noticeable step back.  

“The boiler.” Father Sylus blurted like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He winced internally. “The boiler at the church needs to be looked at.” 

The young man looked over, crossing his arms. “Does it make a banging sound when it heats up?” 

“Uh...” the priest glanced at the girl briefly, eyes pleading and lips twisting into a sheepish smile. “Yes? I don’t know much about it, though. How would we go about fixing it?” 

“Depends on what’s causing the problem.” Xavier shrugged. He wasn’t purposefully being unhelpful; he was just probably not looking to explain any unnecessary details. 

A gust of wind caught Y/N’s attention, and she shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Xavier can do it; he’s a genius at anything like that. Aren’t you, Xavier?” 

Xavier didn’t look that impressed at the praise. “Sure.” 

“It wouldn’t be hard, no more than a few hours,” she continued. “Right?” 

Xavier gave her a nod, “Maybe less. I can take a look before this weekend. Tell your dad I went home when he gets back, okay?” The young man nodded to each of them before disappearing down the sidewalk.

Y/N turned to face Father Sylus directly. She gazed up with a mixture of happiness and wariness. It seemed to him that she was nervous about something, maybe struggling to find the right words. 

“Thank you,” Father Sylus found the gratitude he had been searching for earlier. “Thank you for the other day. I wasn’t sure if I said it before…” 

At that, Y/N smiled the softest of grins. “My pleasure, Father.” Her hand reached out, palm brushing against the back of his hand, thumb stroking lightly. His breath hitched at the simple touch. Gravity was pulling them closer together, and he followed that urge by wrapping a hand around hers, squeezing. A quick and surreptitious move. Even the most casual touches were intoxicating, thickening his blood with longing. 

“So,” she breathed softly, voice low, “other than the boiler, you’re good? Feeling okay? No more ‘migraines’?” There was no hesitancy, though she did smirk when asking. It was as if she was seeking the feelings and sensations, not hiding from them as she once might’ve. Or maybe he was too transparent. Either way, the words managed to settle some of the deep-rooted tension he’d been building. 

He returned her question with an exhale. “No, everything’s okay.” His hand slipped free, and a funny thought ran through his brain that now wasn’t the best place to try and talk. Out here, in the open. He nodded, straightening. “And you?” 

“Me?” She blinked, taking a step closer. “I’m great.” 

“That’s - that’s great.” 

“That’s great.” Y/N agreed, sounding a bit breathless. Her hand reached up, hovering over his bicep, then pulling back as if she caught herself before doing something she ought not to out in the open. “Well,” she said, her gaze trailing down his chest, then quickly back to his eyes. “Hope you’ll let me pay you back someday.” 

There was an unspoken question as if somehow she wanted to test whether he would cross that line again or if she would, and what they were expected to do if that was their direction. How something like this could work long term, or at all, without the world getting involved.  

More than anything, he wished to know how to avoid her getting hurt, as she had to deal with that recently. For her, he’d do his best. He had never seen someone so delicate and yet had the innate ability to break him in the same instant. 

Father Sylus took a step back, his heart pounding. Words alone were not going to resolve this situation. At least, not yet. “I’ve got to get going.” 

“Do you?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry.” 

She looked at him, contemplating before tearing herself away. “Then, I’ll see you later.” She raised a hand, reaching for the door handle, then looked back at him while chewing her lip. After the longest minute, Father Sylus gave her a nod and moved, finally turning his back, glancing over his shoulder once. That heavy pull tugged in his chest, heat twisting in his gut, begging to be acknowledged. 

One minute at a time, that was the only way to do this. There would be no future as a priest with her, yet - they were bound by a strange connection now. By unexplained forces that made the situation unique, and a lot he still needed to work through. Work through what made this feel like …prophecy, of all things.

“Father, wait.” 

He turned. 

Y/N pulled her cardigan tighter around her and let out a breath. Then she motioned to the store, looking at him. With a nod of understanding, he followed her inside. Not a word since it wasn’t needed.

Without warning or anything particularly romantic, she touched his shoulder, fingers stretching and trailing. Biting her lip as if fighting back a smile, she approached closer. His feet were nearly pressed against the toes of his shoes. She reached up, her fingers tracing along his jaw, eyes following the same path. Once, and then again, slowly, as if unable to break the wonder that she had. 

It was far too much and not enough. His hands grasped her hips, trying to memorize the way she leaned into him.  She raised her gaze back to his, chin tilted up. Her whole face lit up. 

It was easy to forget the world that stood beyond her. Easy to wish to drop the sense of duty and feel her warmth. But he would have to settle for her reaching up to kiss him. Soft. Chaste. A gentle and hesitant attempt, more or less. From her, that felt extraordinary. She was soft, and her movements were careful, trailing kisses along his jaw, leaving a fire trail in her wake. His nerves lit up like lightning, caught in the web she’d weaved. 

Pushing aside the momentary madness, he tilted his head to find her mouth waiting.

The second kiss was equally as breathtaking. Slower, but harder. A kiss that brought awareness, and she let out the softest moan. 

Father Sylus pulled back, looking at her with amusement. “Be careful,” he found himself saying. “I could get used to that.” 

Her eyebrow raised, and she smirked. “Then get used to it.”

“Thanks again for driving me out to the mall.” You told Rafayel, sinking lower into the seat and fidgeting with your scarf you hadn’t forgotten that morning. With your phone somewhere out in the woods, your friend had offered to take you on the half-hour drive for a new one. Now, you two had arrived back in town just in time for the first real cold snap of the season to settle in. 

“Oh no, don’t thank me. I’d do almost anything to escape Aunt Talia and her preachy gossip hour.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but the look he shot over at you as he parked along the main street told you not to bother. If there was one thing Rafayel was good at, it was bringing out the stubbornness in everyone. Being around him again made you realize he was still the most childish person you knew in a playful, endearing way. You pulled your new phone from your pocket as you exited the car, pulling your coat tighter around you. In the time that you were out, it had dropped a few degrees, and the biting cold set in.

Rafayel joined you on the sidewalk and opened the door of the coffee shop, holding it for you.

"What will you ever do if I'm not here to chauffeur you?" He asked, playfully bumping into you.

You returned the gesture, chuckling. "Walk."

"How dull ."

"Right? It'll be impossible to survive without you here saving me." You quipped.

"You're a doll for making sure that I still feel wanted."

His words made you remember something, and for a moment, you put your weight against the wall near the counter and simply studied his face. The man who had always been such a welcome presence, even as a teenager. His self-centered quirks almost faded when he smiled at you, replaced by a look you had difficulty placing. The look of someone who had a hard out in the world, and there was an unspoken understanding between you two that you hadn't fully acknowledged until that moment. You shifted a bit and tucked your hands into your pockets, opening your mouth to speak.

"Seriously, though, I know how difficult this must be for you. Moving back home, settling after your little...adventure."

Rafayel didn't respond immediately; instead, he focused on handing his credit card to the barista and ordering the drinks. He pulled out his phone, and the girl behind the counter handed you your orders. You thought maybe he wouldn't speak until he looked up at you.

"It has a lot of perks. Being so close to Talia is certainly not one of them, but it's as if I've gotten to start over. And this time, I want to do it right. I'm older now, and I can understand what kind of person I can be. More like you."

You stopped mid-sip and blinked. What did he mean, 'more like you'? What did he know about you? Licking the cream off your lips, you gave him a puzzled look.

"I'm going to stop being such a pompous ass." He said.

You laughed nervously, sputtering a bit and then clearing your throat as you set the drink down. "No offense, because you're pretty clever when you want to be, but please, for the love of - do not follow my example."

Rafayel snorted in response and rubbed at his jaw, "Who said anything about 'following your example'? Just thought it would be nice to be more mindful." He reached out to hold the door open for you again, a sign of your return to the outside.

Cold air spread through your jacket, and your heart flitted as a memory sparked.

Father Sylus gave you a little smile, dimples and all, and you fell. Backward, it seemed. There was a flicker in the vision. A dazed high that you knew would stay forever and ever in your core. That evening. The briefest moment of letting go, just for a bit, just to have the pleasure of feeling hands.

Of feeling more.

Pinpricks traveled from your neck, cascading through your chest. Glancing down at your phone, you collided with another form, someone solid who caught you by the elbows, pulling you upright. As your coffee cup flew to the ground and your phone nearly slipped from your hand, you looked up to give whoever it was who nearly caused your stumble a piece of your mind.

You were met by a pair of hazel eyes framed in silver-rimmed glasses and a look of intense surprise on his face.

It took a moment, too long, but as soon as it registered, you froze, the rest of the world shutting down.

"Zayne. Hi," your voice cracked.

He gawked, grip tightening a bit on your elbows, brow wrinkling before he released you.

"Y/N," the whisper of your name carried so many mixed emotions. His expression broke, revealing a look of shock before quickly fixing it, shifting back to one of control and neutrality. It was much too practiced and not enough to really fool you. "It's you."

Something deep resonated, and you inhaled sharply, taking a step back. There was no fucking way this was happening. No fucking way this day was going like this. No fucking way this man was standing in front of you. Your mind blanked, any clear idea darting around and disappearing in its wake. You suddenly wanted to cry, to scream, to puke all over his shoes.

"What are you doing here?" You heard yourself ask. An automated response.

You watched as Zayne cautiously glanced toward Rafayel, standing next to you with wide eyes, lips parted, and ready to fight. Zayne's hands rose slightly in defense, recognizing he'd set off a land mine.

"Y/N." His face fell, and again, a genuine relief. Sad. Guilty. Something. "You weren't answering my calls. I -" another glance toward your friend, and his lips pressed into a line. Zayne inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, eyes landing back on you. And suddenly, you were reminded of what drew you to him in the first place: those eyes. The kindness and the truth there. But now...

"What the fuck , Zayne." It was half whine and half plea.

Suddenly, Rafayel grabbed your arm, gently tugging you closer. His arm is locked around your shoulders, glaring glacial. "If it isn't the Prince of Parcheesi."

The 'Prince' straightened his posture. "Excuse me?"

You pointed an accusatory finger, "I asked you a question. What the hell are you doing here? "

You knew Zayne was a man of great patience, but even he couldn't have enough to deal with the two of you. "I was just wondering if I could...talk to you, Y/N."

"You flew across the country to talk to me?!"

"Drove, actually, and no." He flinched as the words left his lips and looked as if he hadn't thought through this plan until just then. A blush crept up his cheeks, and his hand adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. Was that cute or obnoxious? Either way, the sight was irritating and endearing, all in a nauseous mix. "Maybe."

You felt something weird, like a light pull, drawing a magnetism. It was easy to slip into what you felt for him , regardless of everything. It was always there. Mixed with disgust and anger.

"Well, you can't, so, uh, fuck off," Rafayel said.

Then there was the shame. Pure and unfiltered shame , along with a sort of helplessness that stuck and settled. The feeling resurfaced in the back of your throat. And with Zayne staring at you with that damned broken expression, sadness and hurt over losing something close. Your breath came out unintended. Eyes stinging. Why did he have to show up again now ? Hadn't you dealt with enough already? Weren't you due for a fucking break already?

"Alright," Zayne answered quietly. "That's okay, I understand, and I hope-"

"Hey, dumbass."

"Excuse me?"

Despite the emotional crisis, Rafayel stood as a pillar, and suddenly, despite the heaviness and suffocation that came with so much unwanted stimulation, he seemed to really be the key to holding it all together. Thank God for him. As much of an idiot and a wild child as he was, he managed to bring you back to the right here and the right now.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Zayne was shocked to silence, blinking his hazel eyes, "Do I - do I know you ?"

"Exactly why, pray tell, is a self-important prick like you anywhere near our neck of the woods?"

"I'm getting divorced." Clearly, this was something Zayne wanted to tell you in private. You could tell by the way his voice practically faded out, and you went completely numb. It was like the phrase dropped into a stormy sea, drowning out into the water, getting pulled under and lost to the depth.

You imagined Rafayel had heard it based on his sharp exhale. Perhaps he even felt a little bad for his colorful choice of words. For a moment, you stayed rigid, your hand sliding down and grabbing hold of Rafayel's hand, which was tight and uncertain. Just to hold onto something, even if it felt silly.

"You don't owe him shit," Rafayel leaned and whispered. The reminder was appreciated, if needed, and loud enough for the other man to hear. This had nothing to do with you or what happened. Or maybe it did. Fuck. None of that mattered, did it? Because nothing could ever happen between you and him again. Whatever relationship there was could never, should never, would never. Even if the whole divorce was due to the hurt you'd caused.

God, you had done that.

There wasn't a way to focus anymore; your brain simply fizzled. Out and empty. Almost like the second, you knew Zayne was there, a huge barrier just came down, releasing every little ache and desire you still held onto for him. All the suppressed 'what ifs' and the hope of healing. And happiness.

Yet there was a heaviness, too, knowing he couldn't be yours because he was never free in the first place.

It had to sink, but you could feel a rage slowly taking over, along with a hollow agony that had haunted you.

"I can't breathe." You felt yourself take a staggered breath and another, pain catching in the back of your throat.

Without a second thought, you decided you had to leave. Quickly. As quickly as possible. That part, at least, was clear in the madness.

Zayne stepped closer, leaning forward in alarm and worry. "Y/N, I'm so sor -"

"Don't," was your only response. You sniffed, tears in the corner of your eyes. Rafayel was quick, giving the bespectacled fool the nastiest glare known to man as he wrapped his arm around you again and turned you toward the car.

"Y/N, will you please-" Of all the times for the doctor to be persistent.

"No."

"I can explain, I swear, I- please."

"Fuck off."

There was nothing else to say, however, because that second, you were confident that this was, in fact, your old hometown, and this was the man you'd let consume all your fantasies and wishes not that long ago. Your voice was loud enough to grab the attention of the others who dared to be on the sidewalk. Not that they bothered to do anything more than gawk.

Your hands shook, your heart pounding right out of your throat and chest as you got into the passenger seat. As soon as the door closed, Rafayel went around to the driver's side, the slam of the door jolting you.

"Damn," Rafayel muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror as he put the car in gear.

Tears were slipping down your cheeks, hot and sticky and just fucking uncomfortable. Disappointment did that, no matter how well-deserving the end result was.

"Fuck, fuck," you hissed, rubbing at your cheek to try and wipe the wetness away. It didn't work. The car started moving, and you gripped the handle above you, trying to straighten your back, trying to focus on literally anything to get your damn thoughts to come back together.

Rafayel didn't ask, make any guesses, or make any more offhanded comments. Once the speed increased and his grip on the steering wheel loosened, he focused on driving instead. But knowing how confused he was for you didn't take a psychic.

Inhaling sharply, you held it and then released, shuddering again. "I need a Xanax."

"Just try to keep it together a while longer, okay?"

"He just had to fucking show up like that and ruin it."

"I know."

"That's...what..." you stopped. Your mind is fuzzed; everything is going through, flashing at different speeds and scenes of your relationship. It was everything and nothing. Emptiness, followed by the familiar weight of regret. Pain. Worry. The fear you'd been dealing with for months, but the one thing that broke, sinking in finally after forcing it so far down, was the loss of the possibility. Zayne was married, and he was getting divorced, and all those missed phone calls might've been him trying to share that. Run back to you, just to have something. You'd always seen him as someone who could truly never belong to himself.

You couldn't find the energy to wipe away any more of your tears, so you left them to slowly dry against your jawline and into the lining of your scarf.

"He said he drove," you told Rafayel. "That means he's not leaving anytime soon, which means-"

"It's all going to suck."

After about ten minutes of quiet and blank, empty thought, the car moved slowly through the neighborhood. When it pulled into your driveway, it was a surprising relief.

"Will you be okay alone?" Rafayel asked.

"Probably not, but I want to be."

"Okay, well, your mopey mug has seen enough action for today. You're heading inside to take a little day nap, and when you wake up, you will feel better, and everything will look less confusing, yeah?" He reached into the back of the car, pulled out his messenger bag, and dug into it. You wiped one eye with your sleeve, cringing and taking a deep breath as you did the same with the other. Then there was a bottle of pills in his hand. "And take a fuckin' Xanax."

You held your hand out and looked down at the blue pill pressed into your palm. You didn't hesitate to pop it in, mouth dry and sticky as you managed to force it down without water. "God bless you, you crazy sonofabitch."

Rafayel shrugged, shaking the bottle before shoving it back in the bag, "Anything for my friend, Y/N."

"Mm." Somehow, a smile made it to your lips, your face a bit numb. You stared blankly at the center console for a moment before turning to Rafayel. His expression was determined, and his lips twisted, looking a touch less than steady. It took a few seconds for the message to click until you realized he meant it. He'd been honest.

You nodded, closing your eyes.

"Anything, Y/N. Call if you need me."

"I fucked Father Sylus." You blurted out, unable to bear the confusion. His eyebrows raised.

"What the actual fuck? Of all things, why would you say that ?"

"Because I think I really like him."

"Jesus Christ. You really did it, huh?"

Then you were all out bawling, and you thought that perhaps it was Lindsey who cursed Stevie in the first place.

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

A/N: I found this tiktok the other day and it made me LOL and actually gave me the motivation to edit this chapter and post it. If you find any relatable tiktoks, please send them. I beg you.

[wosowffc]

New gunner

Part 2

I woke up early as usual and began my moring routine, but to day katrina was up and getting ready first. I gently nod at her as she says good morning and I make my way to the bathroom.

After a bit of getting ready and packing my last things for tonight I start getting shoes on when she speaks up.

"Imma come with you on your walk" she says trying her own shoes. I don't even get a chance to say no before she's waiting at the door.

We walk towards the beach as the sun starts to rise and I sit on my usual rock slightly uncomfortable, I know she's nice to me but I don't know what to say and worse I don't know why she wants to be here or what she wants to say.

"So yesterday got tense, I understand your trying I do but, your making it really really hard to see" she says truthfully looking into the ocean like I am.

"I've never been good to people, people haven't been good to me kat." I answer back this is the most honest and open I've ever been.

"I'm dropping myself from the mitildas, I'm not playing for country anymore" she turn to face me eyes with a sad look.

"Take a break if your finding it hard but please , please don't quit your too good for that." She says which makes me start to think about it more.

We sit for another half an hour before she has to go back to get back home, my flight isn't for a bit yet so I have a little bit more time here.

I've just landed off the second plane into Heathrow quickly getting my things and driving back to my apartment. Settling down with some subway take out and a movie on I make the mistake of going onto my phone. I see the comments coming in, tags, stories and so much more. I'm not weak. Sure ok I'll keep telling my self that so I swap the food out with wiskey as I scroll throught. I'm not weak.

The next few days seem to blur together a mix of drink and spirits for breakfast lunch and dinner and now it's time to go back to club. Great.

From the minute i enter the grounds I just know I want out already, I won't show that though. I walk through getting looks from every single person, as I arrive in the dressing room there's a few girls slot of the England girls their conversation dying as soon as I come in.

After a min of silence and me putting my boots in the cubicle Lucy speaks up " what u did was fucking disgraceful" not this early Lucy, I take a drink of my water (Malibu) and turn to her.

"Mabey if Leah wasn't doing shit the whole game then pulling that stunt on my she wouldn't have got hurt" I retaliate with a calm face.

"Ur a fucking bastard" she spat back leaving the room to catch up with the group she was talking to.

I continue training not showing that I'm annoyed by anythign that was said. I get the normal pushing and dirty takles but it's ok, training goes on like this for the next 3 days but each day is getting worse than I've experienced before like on Tuesday I was tripped down the stairs by Sam and busted my nose or when I was out on the pitch and Millie tackled me putting studs in my head.

Today was probably going to be the same and I most likely have a concussion but whiskey and beer is holding back them symptoms. I make my way into the canteen to grab a cereal bar before the gym when people started saying shit I can't even make out what it is through drunken haze but I just walk away adding "can u all just fuck off"

I make my way to the car taking soem breaths and gettign my water bottle. The next thing I know I'm on the phone to katrina hoping she will answer.

"Hey, how are you" she answers cheerfully I can hear harper in the back watching some cartoon.

"Umm yeah normal, I wanted to ask if mabey, and it's ok if not I'd understand. Could you help me find a new club?" You know cause of everything this last week alone with you being you in general she mightn't want to help.

"Of course , has something happened you've been at chlease for a good few years?"

"It's time for a change." I answer short and sweet.

"Listen I'll contact my agent and get him to look around for h and let you know ok, I'll get back to u soon byeee" she hangs up and I start to drive not even thinking about coming back to this place im done here my cubbie doesn't have anything in it anyway that I need to come back for as my boots are in the boot of the car.

[anti-marauders]

Its funny remembering that in a way Mulciber and Avery are more respectful than The Marauders.

Cause The Marauders bully Lily's ex best friend Severus, despite James being in love with Lily and them claiming to be the good guys. Like bro if you want the girl befriend her best friend, damn.

And Mulciber and Avery, who are friends or acquaintances with Severus which is said by Lily, apparently don't do shit to Lily cause when she tries to get Severus to see how bad they are she only brings up the shit Mulciber did to Mary, someone Severus doesn't even know. Avery & Mulciber are clearly blood purists so they would obviously talk shit and I really think they'd talk shit about Lily wether they were friends with Severus or not cause she's a muggleborn and a gryffindor.

Yet Severus still hangs out with them and has no other issues with them especially cause he'd throw a fit if they talked shit about Lily. And if he did they'd clearly hex him cause they won't take shit from a half blood. Like wether they left Lily alone in an effort to keep Severus on their side to recruit him or not, they seemed smarter then the marauders. Cause while they didn't try to befriend her obviously, they knew if they wanted Severus on their side they didn't target the one person he truly cares about.

Now wether Mulciber and Avery were really close to Severus or not they still didn't target Lily or say shit cause I feel like they would considering how much James goes after her so they'd hear a lot about her. I feel like they'd attack her out of annoyance or berate her incase they thought she believed she was all that but apparently not cause Lily doesn't bring anything up and I know damn well she would have. Severus probably would have left them if they did.

[megumi-fm]

.

[dawntheduckrb]

I love how you can purposely cater you internet experience to block most politics so you can mentally detox since your media consumption was becoming unhealthy, and still have a whole week of attempting to regain your hope in humanity become completely undone by wanting to eat lunch with your mom (ramble in tags, feel free to ignore; take care of yourselves first <3)

[luitennentsunshine]

I think it's absolutely RIDICULOUS that the show is trying to make the whole thing a team green vs team black situation. Even though the whole point of the dance of the dragons and the whole point of George rr Martin's books is that nothing is black and white. There is no "this side is good and this side is bad". BOTH the blacks and the greens were shades of grey. Both sides had complex characters and Rhaenyra was power hungry and killed to get what she wanted and Alicent wanted to protect her children and make Aegon king because she know it was his birthright. Nothing was an "accident" and no one sought the throne because of a misunderstanding or wanting to express the wishes of a king. All characters did what they wanted out of survival.

Erm, hi? I usually reblog shit and I don’t rlly get asks so I’ll just give u my counter opinion (or am I agreeing with u? Little bit of both)

I totally agree with you that all the characters are shades of grey and complex characters in their own rights. I DO however believe that Rhaenyra was the proper heir, her father had named her such and the only opposition to her claim was the PRECEDENT that your heir must be a son. In this- I believe it was her birthright not her brothers.

I do believe that by the end of the war Rhaenyra had gone half mad and Aegon was also pretty useless and shitty. All in all I think- from an objective standpoint- they both were pretty bad leaders when all was said and done, they plunged the realm into chaos and death and destruction etc etc for the sake of their own greed and self entitlement.

I personally enjoy the character of Rhaenyra more, and I dislike members of team green (alicent, aemond, aegon, etc). I don’t believe either of them were saints however by any means. Again I believe they were both pretty shitty people that tore apart their own house and country during the Dance for nothing since they both pretty much lost in the end.

I do agree that it’s ridiculous to see it as team green vs team black with one of the sides winning because it’s clear from reading the book that they both lost. Almost everyone died, and while Aegon was acknowledged as king and Rhaenyra as a traitor in the history books, it was Rhaenyras blood in the end that would sit the iron throne for years to come. Does it really matter at the end of the day? They both lost everything and died in horrible ways themselves.

[spiritcc]

at this point I don't even know if tag fragmentation in the general russian holmes space is worth addressing. a few years ago I successfully kept the ancient customs intact because I wrote a post so deranged and pretentious it displeased people into doing what I wanted but nowadays what's the point in making a grand return of being terminally online if yall kinda right

[thecoolerbrother]

i think something moonage daydream was really good at doing was capturing a vibe

[midnight-mourning]

❄️MIDNIGHT'S DCA DECEMBER❄️

Hello! I've decided to have a little bit of fun this December and will be opening up requests for the month! Please see below for more details (With subheadings!):

Requests Overall

I will have 31 slots available for requests, first come, first serve. Each piece will range from 1000-2000 words in length and may (MAY) include a little doodle made by me.

Requests can be anything! They just have to be winter/holdiay themed (do NOT have to be releated to Christmas) and DCA-related

Winter/holiday themed means movies/stories too! Ex: i am a BIG fan of The Nutcracker (went insane when I saw @/robinette-green's au for the Barbie version lmao)

As most know I am an X reader writer, but as long as my general request rules are followed, I don't mind writing for ocs, canon, etc. 

For those who don't know my rules, no nsfw (suggestive is FINE), and if you want something specific, be specific. Besides that, it's fair game, request what you want

Potential Issues & Schedule

If there is overlap between request ideas, they will be combined in some manner of speaking (if possible). If needed, I will reach out to you about adjusting ideas or the likes, though I don't forsee this happening. This would occur if for example, someone wants gift shopping with Sun with their oc, and someone else wants the same thing with a reader-insert. Whoever requested second would be who I reach out to. 

I will be posting these throughout December, ending on the 31st

In order to have enough time to write, I will be starting these as soon as I get the first request. To speed things up a little, requests will be open from 11/29 to 12/13 OR until I receive 31 unique requests. So that's maximum two weeks to think of an idea and share it with me. 

If I don't get enough overall or get anything prior to Dec. 1 I'll probably come up with some ideas of my own, but only if that happens! Additionally, if I don't get enough, I may open it up for people to request multiple times, again only if I don't get enough or run out of ideas (genuinely don't know how many I should expect so just trying to cover my bases lol)

To keep things organized, please request in the comments of this post. This also helps to potentially keep from overlap in requests, as you'll be able to see what else has already been requested. If you request in my ask box or such it'll make things a bit more difficult, so please avoid that.

HOWEVER, there is one exception to the above, which is if you wish to request anonymously, which is completely fine to do! But please only request in my ask box if you want to be anonymous. If overlap happens in that case, then y'all may just get two responses with similar vibes on the same day (essentially a bonus lol)

Confused Spirit

For those who may be concerned (as I was before making this post lmao) Confused Spirit's schedule will not be affected by this! Now that it's back I'd like it to stay back lol. We may stick to an every two weeks schedule for a bit, or may go back to weekly, it will depend on life stuff, not on other writing things. I promise ^_^

Having little things like these also help prevent writers block, and thus stay more consistent with updates

Sharing & More

Please feel free to share this post around, and request if you want to! Once I hit 31 unique ones I'll reblog this post with the announcement that requests are closed, so make sure to double check they aren't closed already prior to requesting!

I'll also post updates every couple of days regarding the status of total requests as well ^_^

Unrelated but similar, @/quilteddreams is working on a DCA Advent Calendar for December that's also really cool! (I'm helping out with beta reading :D) Highly reccommend you check it out once it starts posting! 

Everything related to this will be under the tag #MM dca December, just in case there's another similar tag out there and I'm not just taking it for myself

Alright, that's all for now, excited to see what you guys ask for!

Adding the tag list to this since y'all enjoy my writing lol:

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai

[elegyofthemoon]

While reading the relic story for Fleet of the Ageless, I ran into some mention of the "Three Sufferings":

Yet, just like the shifting of the sun and moon, what once prospered was fated to decline and what once brought elation must eventually induce agony. It was not until the arrival of the Three Sufferings, when people were tormented to near extinction, that the Xianzhou people finally came to understand the true nature of this so-called miracle, which was nothing but harrowing calamity. (The Xianzhou Luofu's Celestial Ark)

And I'm not really sure if they mention it elsewhere on the Luofu (I'm very slowly going through everything. Except I keep getting sucked into reading Belobog stuff >_>), but what it did make me think about however is that in Buddhism, there is something called the "three marks of existence", which refers to the three sources of suffering in the world. So I wanted to mostly write this up as a comparison between what's going on in the Luofu vs. Buddhist belief! (And a very big warning: I might be skimming over important details about the religion. I was born into a culture that is very heavily influenced by Buddhism and have grown up with some understanding of it while having to study it on my own, so I'm sure I'll get a lot of details wrong. So if I get anything wrong, you're always welcome to chime in!)

At least in my memory, I remembered that there was a suffering because of attachment to objects, to self, and to others -- all with the concept that all things do not last, so I had to search up these names properly.

anicca (impermanence): This is the core concept in which nothing lasts in this world. The inability to recognize the impermanence of life will then lead to grief -- suffering -- that humans face, as a result. You can actually see this with the Sanctus Medicus's desire for eternal life with Dan Shu who grieved the loss of her friend Yufei via the diaries that you could pick up

It's this idea of attachment to something bound to end some way or another that will inevitably lead to suffering/pain when that loss comes.

dukkha (suffering): The idea behind this mark is that the truth is that life cannot be satisfied. If there isn't suffering, there are moments of joy, but as all things in life, even the joy is brief.

I wouldn't exactly be able to pinpoint how this gets carried out on the Luofu. I would have said something about how the Luofu had once sought out eternal life which then led to the implanting of the Ambrosial Arbor by Yaoshi, but now are unsatisfied by their gift of eternal life to them. I could also say that at least with the longer lives that the Xianzhou natives have, they eventually lose interest in life itself because they've had the chance to sought out anything they could with their many years, which is better described in Yukong's third character story:

and for the final mark of existence: anatta (not self): If suffering comes from attachment, then an attachment to an image of one's self too can lead to a source of suffering. With time, everyone is bound to change and grow, so any attempts in trying to hold onto one specific image could lead to a source of pain.

I think the best way to display this concept is actually through Yaoshi's acts and why the Alliance condemns them and their "abominations" (themselves included :'D). To rid of the suffering that comes with death, Yaoshi hopes to grant the gift of eternal life, but it seems that coming back from the dead doesn't mean returning to one's old self, which I feel can be seen at least with Blade's case with his revival and no longer being Yingxing. These undead are what the Alliance hopes to get rid of. I think it can also be seen through Bailu's story quest with the girl who slowly becomes marastruck who panics the moment the armor and her skin becomes melded into each other, no longer able to retain her former image before meeting and reuniting with her lover, in which case the idea of "self" is an attachment to a physical form rather than something more abstract instead, and that leading to her own suffering in the end.

I'm sure that a lot of Hoyo's writing with weaving in Buddhism with the Luofu lore isn't coincidental (looks at Dan Heng) , and I'm sure that there's bound to be better show of each of these principles, but I think this is what Hoyo might be referring to when they write about the "Three Sufferings" in the relic. Maybe I'll come back to this post later if I find better evidence BUT I thought worth noting at least for now :) ty for reading if you made it this far

[thundertide]

It's blog update time y'all~! <3

Two new muses have been added! Kyros, a Fatuus under the command of both Kagota and Childe ( @yoroiis ) who has some heavy ties to @waltzofphoenix's Diluc and Kaeya, and Rosalee, a frequently ill Fontanian girl with a particular fascination for magic and the things it could do to change her world.

Rules have been updated to add notes about Rosalee and Kyros to the triggers section, as well as recieved some minor tweaks here and there, like noting that while I'm caught up on the current plot, I like to take the game slowly and there's still much I don't know, having started playing only a year ago. I can't even consider myself a newbie anymore so time that changed-

Saiki's about has gotten a tiny update while it's in line for its major one: Her mother now has the name Adria, and is a woman who has heavy ties to a lot of things waiting in the wings for upcoming plots, much to Saiki's dismay and Adria's pure delight-

Kagota's about is now deemed an ongoing Work In Progress. It's been updated to reflect current plots, upcoming things, and general plotting going on, including her promotion to Operative shortly before the Fontaine chapter's start as well as her gaining a cryo delusion alongside it, her working with Childe under the Tartaglia name, carrying his vision rather than the Traveler, and the addition of a family section in her about to list out the members of her massive family, be they adopted, found family, in-laws, or blood, and her pregnancy during the Fontaine chapter with their firstborns. However, because of her closeness to Childe and how incredibly intertwined they are, something @yoroiis and I are constantly discussing and working with, and my outright refusal to step on the toes of canon if I can avoid doing so, she's also heavily impacted by the current archon quest events and with said quests as their own ongoing thing right now, I'm leaving her about as a WIP and will be tweaking and updating it as updates come in game, which also will leave her as very much still pregnant with her twins for the time being for anything set in the current point of the game's storyline due to an inability to pinpoint when their births occur. Please pardon the dust as things change and work themselves out over time regarding Fontaine, as future blog update posts like this will likely have more information on them regarding this.

Information on Kagota's abilities and fighting style with her cryo delusion will be added in future tweaks as a result of the previous point. I want to take this slow and think it out in full carefully, and use everything the game gives to work this out.

I think that's everything for this update round - I am still working heavily on things behind the scenes and there's a lot still upcoming being plotted and decided on pretty much every day, but I also don't like updating things without making posts like this to make them known, either! Even if it IS mentioning how much is staying as a WIP because agh, I have one mighty FONTAINE WHY waiting in the background for a LOT of the lore we're getting! XD

~Pom

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

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[kuiinncedes]

bro