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dinsdjrn · 1 year

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gone, from austin | j. miller | part one

pre-outbreak!Joel x f!reader

18+, a brother's best friend story

summary: Joel Miller: the one that got away; right person, wrong time. Now you’re back in Austin and it hurts just as bad, as if you’d never left five years ago

wc: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, no use of y/n, Sarah is alive and well, female reader, young!joel is an assshole (but not rlly), brothers best friend, ex-lovers to lovers (eventually), f! mc has unresolved trauma, implied cheating (not joel), slow burn, eventual smut, angsty at first, proof-read but i have not a clue what im doing. let me know if i missed anything <3

💌 a/n: not new to fic, but it's been a hot minute so please be kind <3 i am very nervous to post this but i'm posting it for me to share my joy and daydreaming with you. If youd like to be added to a tag list when i update lmk <3

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Part One | April 2002

“I’ve gotta heal myself from all the things I’ve never felt”

Life is disappointing. Accepting that aspirations and dreams aren’t the reality you face, it’s hard. Sometimes it’s even harder to accept that things can fall apart in the blink of an eye; you just have to move on. You are someone who things didn’t work out for and you understood that now. It was painful, numbing, and deserved; where ever you went destruction was sure to follow.

You’ve accepted that in the blink of an eye your life had fallen apart once again. That was a given. What was unexpected was returning to the town that built you up and broke your heart. When you moved to Toronto, you swore you were done with Austin. Yet, here you were, stepping on the escalator at Austin airport your entire life in a few bags waiting at the carousel bay below.

As you descended, the baggage claim came into view so did your twin brother with a massive “Welcome Home!” poster board that had your name on it.

A smile couldn’t help but spread over your features, as defeated as you felt, your brother always knew how to make you smile.

“Hey, I’ve missed you,” you say as your brother wraps you in a massive bear hug.

“I’ve missed you too,” relief present in his voice.

The buzzer on the baggage carousel sounded which pulled you from the hug that you didn’t know you needed.

“I’ll get my bags and then we can be on our way,”

Your bags came a few minutes later, you and your brother each took one.

As you stepped into the car, a silence fell between you, neither really knowing what to say. You hadn’t been home in years and there was a sinking in your chest and darkness dawned on you. The past few days had been a whirlwind of anguish, it was dizzying how rushed you were to leave your life in Toronto. Nothing had time to sink in, until now, until you were back feeling the exact same heartbreak that pushed you to leave. You felt as if you had taken one step forward and three steps back.

The car was quiet, Jake clearly didn’t know what to say, and you clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

“Thanks for letting me stay with you and Kels,” you said after about ten minutes of brutal silence, “I promise it’s temporary, once I’m back on my feet I’ll be out of your hair.”

“No worries, you can stay as long as you’d like, you know,”

Staying was never your plan. Austin may have been home once, but that was was a long time ago. The reasons you left may not outweigh the reason you came back, but this wasn’t long term. Too much pain wrapped your heart like a brick wall to stay for very long. That wall was taken apart piece by piece over the past over the past five years and put back up so quickly in the last thirty-six hours.

“Thanks,” you forced a small smile on your face.

More silence. More time alone with yourself, more time to believe that you deserved this pain, these hardships.

What did I do to make things fall apart? I thought we were happy. I thought I was building my life. You thought to yourself.

“So I should let you know,” Jake started pulling you from your thoughts, “the Stars made it to the playoffs and I’ve invited Tommy, Joel and Sarah over to watch the game tonight.”

Joel. You thought to yourself. You knew he’d be unavoidable, but you didn’t think it would be an immediate turnaround, close proximity, kind of deal. Maybe a wave from the driveway or neighbourhood cookout first, but you guessed wrong.

“Oh.”

“Look I know it’s,” he paused “Complicated for you right now, but being with familiar people might be good for you.”

“Always the therapist,” you scoffed.

It might be good for you to be near Kelsey, Jake, Tommy and Sarah, but Joel. There was so much history there, so many unresolved questions and feelings. Five years had passed, but the flesh wound he had left on your heart was fresh as the day you had left.

“I’d’ve ended things anyway, darlin’! So you may as well just leave, go to Canada, start over!” The words burned into your skull. They had made it so easy to leave and so hard to come back.

You had never explained to Jake what happened between you and Joel, just that things hadn’t worked out. They hadn’t worked out, but their friendship was more important than simply “not working out”. You insisted your breakup wouldn’t affect their friendship and you were leaving anyways, so what would it matter.

Arriving at your brothers place you were greeted by another bear hug from your sister-in-law, Kelsey. She was kind hearted, gentle, and charismatic, just like Jake. They acted like they were made for another, and maybe they were. You weren’t one to be envious normally, but life didn’t work out for you the way it had for them; so a small twinge at your heart wasn’t out of place.

Though you had known this house like the back of your hand years ago, Amy still showed you to your room. This house had belonged toyour parents in the 80’s, and when they decided to move to Florida full-time they had offered it to your brother to start his family. Kelsey and Jake did a full renovation a few years ago bringing the house into the twenty-first century. It was nice, but it lacked the comfort you had once known.

“Thank you Kels, really, I appreciate everything,” You said to Kelsey when she had returned from getting fresh towels for the ensuite.

“Hey, anything you need. That’s what family’s are for.” She smiled softly at you.

“Are you going to come down for dinner and the game? Jake is so excited that you’re here, and Sarah can’t wait to see you!”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’ve been brainwashed to a secret Leaf’s fan?” Kels pointed at you.

You laughed. It surprised you but felt good to laugh things off as if nothing had changed.

“I don’t think I could ever be brainwashed to like hockey, Kels,”

“I hear that sis,” She laughed with you, “I’m just in it for Joel’s wings and the beer honestly.”

“If I remember correctly he makes ‘the best barbecue in Austin’,” you mocked Jake’s tone.

Kelsey leaned on the door and chuckled until you fell into a comfortable silence.

“We’ve all missed you,” She sighed.

“I’ve missed y’all.”

“Y’all!” She exclaimed startling you, “I knew there was still a country girl left in you!”

You rolled your eyes in her direction. You can take the girl out of Texas but you can’t take Texas out of the girl. You’d lost a few of your Texas-isms but there would always be a little twang here and there.

“Join us tonight, please? For me and Jake?” She pressed.

“Oh fine,” you gave in, there were vert few people you could not say no to. Kelsey was one of them, and you’re certain both her and Jake knew that.

“Perfect! Games at 7:30. That gives you about an hour to get settled in.”

Kels then left you to get organized. You had put away some essentials in the bathroom and were going to try and put away some clothes before heading downstairs. Kelsey and Jake had put a new dresser in but had left the knick-knacks and photos you left behind on top. The one that caught your eye was from seven years ago, you and a little girl with the curliest brown hair and biggest smile were sat together on a kayak in the middle of a river. That had been one of the best weekends of your life.

Sarah couldn’t have been more than five years old, she insisted that you come with her and Joel camping. You were exhausted after coming off a string of night shifts at the hospital and fully intended on staying home. You’d told Joel just prior that you would see them as soon as they got back, but how could you say no to Sarah. She had you wrapped around her finger, and she knew it too. So you packed a bag and off you went camping with Sarah and Joel. You were so grateful you had decided to go. Between fun on the lake with Sarah, and stolen midnight kisses by the campfire with Joel, it had been exactly what you needed at the time.

You put the frame face down on the dresser. So much historic pain surrounded your heart being back here in Austin. So much fresh pain surrounded your heart from the events that pushed you back here. It was suffocating, and somehow being alone made it so much worse. You wished that it would subside, leave a dull numbness that was familiar to you. Instead it clenched and twisted in the pit of your stomach, leaving you more nauseated than when you arrived.

You checked the clock and realized that nearly forty-five minutes had passed since you started unpacking. You changed quickly out of your plane clothes into something a little less stale, went to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

“There she is!” Jake exclaimed.

“Feeling better?” Kelsey asked, offering you a Stella.

You accepted the beer with a smile.

“Big time, planes always make me feel like shit,” you laughed.

Just then the doorbell rang and you heard the front door open.

“Put your clothes on kids!” You heard a familiar voice yell.

“Tommy!” Your brother exclaimed and walked out of the kitchen.

“Oh my god!” You heard someone yell, “You’re here!”

You turned around, and the curly haired little girl with the killer smile you once knew, wasn’t so little anymore.

“Hey kiddo!”

She ran up to you throwing her bag next to the island and wrapping her arms around your middle.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here today!”

“It was a bit last minute,” you laughed and squeezed Sarah.

“How long are you here for?” She asked looking up at you.

“We’ll see kiddo. I’ve got a few things to sort out here, so I’ll be around.”

“Oh hey, stranger!” Tommy yelled as he walked into the kitchen carrying a two four of beers.

“Oh hey,” you gave a small wave.

“Nuh-uh Toronto, that’s not how we do thing here. C’mere give me a hug,”

You laughed at and embraced Tommy in a hug. It felt comfortable, like you were with people you had known your whole life at least for the parts that mattered.

You felt like someones eyes were burning into the back of your head when you released Tommy from the friendly embrace. A small cough came from the entrance to the kitchen.

You turned around and felt the wind get knocked out of you. There was Joel in all this glory, he looked older than the last time you had seen him. The lines on his face were a little more prominent and he looked a bit more tired, but god he was attractive. He was tall and lean, but still looked strong and kind. It’s hard to not fall in love with him all over again. But to fall in love with him again, just acts as a reminder that he would leave you so easily again.

“Dad can you believe it?!” Sarah exclaimed, stating she felt like you hadn’t been home in forever.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jake said, “You’ve rendered this jack ass speechless.”

He slapped his best friend across the shoulder only to receive a small shove back.

“Shut up would ya?” Joel said.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m hungry and puck drop is in five minutes,” Kelsey said, promptly changing the subject from you.

Everyone then fell into a comfortable conversation about hockey without you. Tommy and Joel had put out containers of barbecue and everyone was grabbing a plate. You were intensely uncomfortable and felt out a bit out of place.

You insisted everyone grab a plate before you so they didn’t miss out on any of the game. Once everyone had moved to the living room you shakily grabbed a plate of food. Still rattled by the ghosts of your past and events of the past few days you weren’t too hungry, but you knew your brother and he’s be the first to comment you needed to eat something. He was always so worried about you, even when you were thousands of miles away.

You brought your plate to the living room and sat in the only available seat remaining next to Sarah, on the couch.

“So,” Tommy looked at you from the T.V., “is that boyfriend of yours going to be makin’ an appearance?”

Jake shot him a look.

“What?!” He laughed. “Just gotta know when I should avoid coming over is all,” He put his hands up in defense.

“We, uh, we actually broke up not too long ago,” you cleared your throat uncomfortably.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,”

“It’s alright, it was never going to work out anyway. Our lifestyles were too different,” you smiled politely.

Joel refused to even acknowledge the conversation at hand. His eyes were glued to the game and you were grateful for it. After a briefly awkward silence, comfortable conversation fell over the group. You had never felt more at the sidelines, it felt like you were watching these interactions through a window. It was uncomfortable for you, but everyone else, including Joel, was having a great time.

It was getting late when the game had concluded. It had cooled off and gotten dark outside, luckily the Miller’s didn’t have far to go to get home, they were just next door. Joel had bought the house when Sarah was just a baby, he and Jake had hit it off almost immediately. You were still in school at the time, living at home to save money and instantly felt a connection to Joel.

You never acted on you feelings, he had a little kid, you were a broke Med student and he was your brothers best friend. The day things changed was the weekend after your and Jake’s 21st birthday; you all had gone into the city to bar hop, one thing led to another and the Joel Miller had taken you home with him. That night was reckless, it was hot, the line where your individual bodies began and ended had been blurred by intense, drunken, passion for another. There was a danger to your relationship when it started, neither of you wanting Jake to find out, but also neither willing to stop seeing one another.

Eventually, you couldn’t deny your feelings for one another and fell into a very comfortable relationship. You spent five years building a life together. One year dating and getting to know one another. Then, after you had matched in paediatric surgery at St. David’s, you had moved in together. Four more years or figuring out what it meant to date someone with a kid, managing a brutal residency that consisted either nights or 24 hour on call stints. You had thought you were making it work rather well for two people who had no idea what they were doing because at the end of the day at least you knew you loved one another.

Until it all came crashing down. You don’t know what changed, but you were left in the dust with only the shattered pieces of your heart left to pick up after him. It made the decision to move to Canada easy, a no brainer even. It was a fresh start arguably as far away as physically possible from Joel Miller. You thought it would give you time to heal, give you a clean slate. Except, the heart ache never went away, it dulled over the years. There were days it was barely there at all. You had told yourself you moved on countless times. That was until a picture would come to your email of Kelsey and Sarah at the pool, or Jake, Joel, and Tommy at a baseball game, and then it would all come crashing down all over again.

The dull ache was a full on fire in your heart today, you knew it would hurt, seeing them all again. It did hurt, but Jake was right, it was better to be surrounded by others than left alone to wallow in self pity upstairs. The Miller’s started making their goodbyes and you got up to see them out.

“Hey, can we hang out if you’re going to be staying around for a little while? I’ve missed you so much!” Sarah said while giving you a hug goodbye.

“You’d have to ask your Dad, kiddo. I’d be happy to, but it’s up to him,”

Sarah turned to face Joel and pleaded him for a sleepover this coming weekend.

“I, uh, I don’t know darlin’…” He sighed, “You’ve got a lot on the go between school and soccer.”

“Dad, please! We haven’t seen each other since I was little. It’s been so long, just this once?” The teenager pleaded again.

“Alright, alright,” Joel put his hands up in defeat.

Sarah let out a little squeal and hugged her dad.

“Okay, kiddo… I’ll text your dad about it once I’ve gotten settled in this week,” you smiled.

You could tell both you and Joel were uncomfortable with the situation. That didn’t matter at the end of the day because you’d both do anything to make sure Sarah was happy. Even after five years you could tell Joel knew that.

The Miller’s said their goodbyes and you excused yourself upstairs. A sleepover with Sarah meant a whole night at Joel’s. You hadn’t realized the gravity of your actions until you were sitting alone in a bed that no longer belonged to you, in a place that somehow felt different, yet exactly the same. It dawned on you that you may never get over Joel, but he sure as hell had moved on from you. It was clear in the way he avoided you, acted as if you didn’t even exist.

Who knows how long you’d stay in Austin and you already knew it would only end in more pain than which it began. Tomorrow you’d start looking for a way out again, before too much damage could be done. You had built your walls even higher than they had been before you left and you were determined to make it out unscathed.

“About time that I face the hard times I’ve let go. If love was just an ocean I’d drown before I float”

To be continued.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller x f!reader #meg writes things

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floydsmuse · 10 months

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Meggy dearest, ask and ye shall receive for the brain is an endless pantry full of thoughts/thots and just know that if ever you want me to actually write anything for you, the ask box is always open, I don't bite unless somebody else tried to bite first (lol).

We've seen work life with Cal x wifey!reader, but what about at home?? I don't think we've really looked at that much (lol).

Of course you and Cal have been married for a while and as a result you've gotten to know his family really well......maybe a little too well (lol).

Calvin and his baby brother, John, were adopted as babies from an orphanage (I kinda feel like it was a situation similar to J. R.R Tolkien where they were under the temporary care of a priest). His adopted father, Henry Evans Jr., was a Marine who had served in World War I and later in Nicaragua under Chesty Puller, while his adopted mom, Patricia had been a World War I combat nurse at Belleau Wood. Both of them were really, really young when all that was going on and had a few older children before adopting Cal and John when they were little. Even in his adult years, Calvin remained close with Father McDowell and asked him if he wouldn't mind marrying you two when the time came.

Everything you learned about the kitchen came from Patricia. You swore up and down from the day you met her, that this woman was a kitchen witch in disguise. She had an entire cabinet full of recipes that were handed down from her family members, including one that she complied herself and that you both jokingly refer to as "the grimoire". She's also got a ton of home remedies that work like a charm. One time, Cal came down with a bone cracking bout of bronchitis at the beginning of winter and as soon as he came through the door, hacking his brains out, Patricia beckoned you into the kitchen, told you to boil some water and to throw a bunch of blood oranges and mulling spices into the pot (star anise, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, allspice and black peppercorns). As soon as that was all boiled down, she made Cal drink it and oh did it clear him the fuck up!! (lol).

Dad on the other hand was a bit of a different story (lol).

Henry has the sickest sense of humor you have ever seen, like this man has absolutely no filter whatsoever but you and Cal absolutely LOVE IT!!! He was the one who taught Cal not only how to fix the car, the furnace etc. but he also fed Cal's love of chemistry (hell, any kind of science if I'm being honest). The one thing that Patricia probably could've done without though was Henry teaching their son to swear in six different languages (lol).

"Henry, if you teach any of the grandbabies those filthy, dirty words that you taught our kids, I'll send you running from that garage!"

"Pat I used to blow shit up in the jungle for a living, nothing you say or do could possibly scare me any more!"

Because of her nursing background, you often ask Patricia if she wouldn't mind coming to help with lectures down at the college. She's always happy to be a part of it no matter what and the girls absolutely LOVE HER!!!! One time however, she put a snobby admin in their place and the way she spoke had even Six-Thirty sitting up a little straighter and crossing his paws (lol).

"Young man, I had to earn my stripes in the middle of a shelled out church in France, rearraigning men's guts day after day while everywhere else was having the living daylights pounded out of them," she said. "So until you yourself have been there, I suggest you sit up a little straighter, keep your legs crossed, shut your mouth and mind your own business." (lol).

And of course there's Six-Thirty, your husband and father-in-law's favorite companion. When you and Cal found out you were expecting your first child together, that dog became soooooo protective of you it wasn't even funny. If anybody on campus even remotely looked at you the wrong way, Six-Thirty would go from sweetest dog in the world to one nasty son of a bitch in a snap. He, like Cal, especially hated D'Nadi after the slimeball tried to have you fired for being pregnant but thankfully, partially due to the stinkbomb incident, the college president (who was raising his own grandchildren) fired D'Nadi and anybody else who was spreading the petty bullshit around. Truth be told too, he never minded Six-Thirty wandering into his office to deliver important papers and memos (lol).

*BOUNUS!*

Six-Thirty is a seriously gentle giant with your baby. She cries in the middle of the night? He's waking you and Cal before anybody else has a chance. Weird noises flying around the house? He's guarding her crib like her life depends on it, even if it's just the house settling in the frigid, winter weather. She'll hug his whole face with her little body if she can which makes Cal laugh like an idiot, but oh God when she starts sitting up on her own, Six-Thirty plays this weird game with her where he'll drag her through the house on her blanket. It actually got to the point where you and Cal had no choice but to put up a baby gate near the stairs that went upstairs and in front of the basement entrance in the kitchen (lol).

Meggy I was expecting only to make an appetizer and instead I gave you a whole meal (lol).

Mary my darling! i seriously am living for all of your thoughts/thots & i absolutely love reading them 🥰 i’m sorry it took me a few days to get back to you. i’ve just been a bit busy & didn’t have the time to really sit down to dive into this, but i’m here & ready to read what amazing things you’ve come up with!

~ oooh! i love that you’ve decided to add Calvin’s family into the mix :) just wanna say on a side note, that i love that you mentioned J.R.R. Tolkien in regards to Calvin’s younger brothers. i am a huge lotr nerd & love the world of Tolkien! anyways… Calvin’s adoptive father being a marine & adoptive mother being a nurse just makes so much sense to me!

~ i like the idea of wifey learning how to cook from Cal’s mom! calling her a “kitchen witch” is just so funny to me😂 but i love it! & i love that she has been able to make up & create these home remedies that help with different sicknesses. i have a feeling that Calvin would also use these remedies when you fall sick or are not feeling the best. i also believe that he would use them with yours & Cal’s children. your babies would call Calvin, “the magic doctor”🥹 because once he whips up one of these “potions” (remedies) & they have a taste, they would feel better instantly & with such ease :,) ugh just the idea of Calvin with kids is making me all 🫠🥰😍

~ i love the idea of Calvin’s dad having a good sense of humor! i love a good laugh & i know people who also don’t have a filter, which can certainly be a trip! okay but i love how you said that his dad was the one who helped fuel his love for chemistry🥹 that’s so sweet! & omg haha. the whole part about Pat warning Henry not to curse in front of the grand babies & also teaching Cal how to curse in 6 different languages is sooo funny! it just seems like such a dad thing to do.

~ aww! momma Evans going into the college to help out with wifeys lectures & the students loving her is just awesome! i love it. ooh! & it seems like momma has got some fire in her, telling up that admin! as she should!! 😌

~ Six-Thirty is the best companion anyone could ask for & i completely agree that he would be super protective of wifey! he would be glued to your feet & would even sleep with his head gently lying on your belly during bedtime. he would even experience the moments where the baby would kick & he’d feel it🥹 making him perk up & look at you! he’d also protect your babies & be like an almost “bodyguard” to them :,) this is making me so soft !! oof damn D’Nadi! 😤 always causing unnecessary disrupt! i can’t stand him! but i’m glad wifey could still keep her job, thanks to the college president stepping in.

~ STOP IT RN. im actually going to sob, MARY !!! you are so right! Six-Thirty would be like the ultimate protector for your little baby. he would so alert Calvin & Wifey, as soon as the baby even starts to fuss. he would definitely guard the baby’s crib & wouldn’t leave their side no matter what. okay but Six-Thirty dragging baby around on a blanket in the house is such an interesting thing to imagine😅 but you know he’d be so gentle & baby would be letting out a fit of little squeals & giggles🥹 UGH I NEED A FIC WITH CAL, WIFEY, BABY & PROTECTOR SIX-THIRTY! i BEG PLSSS🥹😭💗

i can’t with all of this. your brain, Mary! these thoughts were just everything! thank you soo much for sharing them with me!! i seriously get such a kick out of reading them ! you have so many amazing ideas :,) i’m loving it all <3 ty again for this my darling! mwah😘

#calvin evans #calvin thoughts/thots <3 #lessons in chemistry #calvin evans x reader

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daisychains111 · 5 months

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live "tweet" books with me (via the Goodreads progress bar) pt. 4 and 4.5 The ACOTAR series by Sarah J. Maas

(I didn't do the entire book for acotar or acomaf so I'm putting them both here, I'm also putting Frost and Starlight here bc it's so short. I did all of Wings and Ruin so it will be a whole other post)

A Court of Thornes and Roses

I'm reading this book again and praying it will keep me out of a reading slump

Feyre saying she hates the smell of books is WIIILLLLDDD...the disrespect smh

I know that Tamlin turns out to be the scum of the earth but I can't remember if we still like Lucian...I hope we do bc I love him and Fayre's bestie vibes

RHYSAND IS THAT YOU!!! BESTIIEE

GAG

Lucian really said "I'm getting THE FUCK outta here" he has zero patience for their bs

bribery for a kiss is gross...boo Tamlin

Rhys is the high lord of night court, right...like he's the one leaving heads in gardens? cause like if so SLAY

Rhys don't be a snitch, it isn't a good look

Nesta's important later isn't she? cause her following fayre is not nothing

The way that this is like millimeters from being a standalone book will never not be hilarious.

A Court of Mist and Fury

Rhys crashing her wedding is annoying (kinda bc she clearly didn't want to get married) but also so slay of him

I love it when characters throw shoes...a very underrated form of micro mirco mirco troup

you are saying a lot of names...all of them slightly familiar...I've very excited"

live laugh love....Lucian siding with Feyre bc I love him and I hope he stays on her side

referring to themselves as males and females is a little too omagaverse for my liking

ngl yall I miss Lucian...like fuck tamlin he's a bitch but Lucian has never done anything wrong in his life

giggling blushing kicking my feet

I didn't know Tamlin was gonna side with the evil king guy...but I KNEW and I'm not at all suprised

I wish I had read this years and years ago when I started it the first time because OH MY GOD

(See part 5 for Wings and Ruin)

A Court of Frost and Starlight

Feyre using "older than Rhys" as a measurement of time is my new favorite thing

period positivity or whatever but I HATE HATE HATE when it's talked about in books...makes me uncomfy

Az is so sweet trying to not get invested in Elain but seriously dude, kick Lucian out of there

Sweet Azrial...if you don't get Elain a gift I'll throttle you

HAHAHAHAHAHAAAHHAHA Cassian can tell when Nesta is reading smut

every Cassian chapter is just him angsting after nesta...just kiss her already

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST SAY MAN...I love these books but every time I read the word male I want to throw them all over a cliff

hehe drunk Cassian and Feyre: the best siblings-in-law ever

a court of Frost and Shadows: 232 pages of everyone and their mothers cockblocking Rhys and Feyre

Lucian...I love you, go away

Rhys, Cassian, and Azrial having a snowball fight every year on Solstice for 500 years is the cutest thing I've ever read...I love it when grown men do cutie-pie things

these people are hundreds of years old but istg they act like their 10

YES CASS GO GET YOUR GIRL

Nesta grow the fuck up

RHYS IS GIVING FEYRE HIS MOMS DRESSES STOP IM SOBBING

I love Rhys and feyre, I do....but I'm dying for Nesta and Cassian content pls

I'm gonna be honest...this had almost zero plot...got to see all the cuties doing cutie things tho...so that's a plus

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of fey and flowers #feyre archeron #rhysand #morrigan #azriel #goodreads #live tweet #fuck tamlin #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #feyre x rhysand #elain x azriel #elain acotar #amren acotar

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frodothefair · 1 year

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꧁ The Flowers of Mordor ꧂

Chapter 1 - The Compromise

READ ON AO3

SUMMARY : Sam knows he cannot tear himself in two, but Frodo's struggles after the quest are worsening. Marigold Gamgee gets a job at Bag End, and grows close to its enigmatic master. J. R. R. Tolkien meets Jane Austen. PAIRING : Frodo/Marigold Gamgee, Frodo/Sam secondary GENRES : hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn romance, slice of life, girl next door WARNINGS: PTSD, depression, panic attacks, eating disorder, eventual spicy scenes RATING: M CHAPTER SUMMARY: After the quest, Sam has a job in mind for his sister. Marigold recalls when she first met Frodo.

PREVIEW:

“Let’s get you home.”

The hobbit’s chest was clad in soft linen. His body was warm and smelled clean, mixed with the smell of pipeweed and of something else nice: not tree bark or leather, but a softer cousin of the two. She looked up, and through the white pain that clouded her vision, she saw a pair of blue eyes, dark hair, and a tall, well-etched nose and cheeks. She wondered if the creature who had found her was a hobbit after all, or perhaps an elf from Mr. Bilbo’s stories.

Marigold Gamgee had always done everything exceptionally well. To be good, thorough and useful – that was the best path to take for the youngest child of a large and hardly well-to-do family, or so she had gathered early on. From her days as a wee lass tending to the bumps and scrapes of her family, a role she had assumed entirely on her own and that had earned her the pet name “our little healer,” to folding the napkins for her father’s luncheon as the only child, at 35, who had not yet married or gone off – as Samwise had – to parts unknown, there was nothing in the world that Marigold did half way. In fact, in her life she had given up on just one thing.

When it happened, the midwife, Mrs. Bracegirdle, lost no time in telling the Gaffer – in the middle of market, and within earshot of half of Hobbiton – that her last apprentice, Marigold Gamgee, had been the biggest disappointment she had ever known, and if all he did was marry her off, consigning her to a life of cooking and wet nappies, he would be the biggest idiot in all the four farthings. The Gaffer had scratched his head and likely forgot her words just as soon, except to complain to the other gaffers at the pub of ungrateful daughters and the time it took to educate a healer – all gone to the dogs. But Sam, once he had gotten back from his adventure and heard the news, had set the gears in his mind to turning.

In fact, Sam could not help but notice that Marigold still did her work with speed and efficiency: nimble fingers pressing gauze onto wounds and spoonfuls up to lips as she tended the wounded in the Scouring of the Shire – and this with her being fresh out of the Lockholes herself, a fact that made Sam want to resurrect Lotho Sackville-Baggins so he could kill him all over again. She was more subdued than usual, certainly, but still the same old Marigold, particularly as she ate and gained back her charms. So the fact that she staunchly refused to work for Mrs. Bracegirdle – or for Dr. Boffin, who had called upon her personally and offered to teach her a different healing art – seemed to her brother passing strange.

Sam had always been shy around lasses, even his own sisters, so Marigold could tell that he was wrestling with how to ask her what went wrong. But in the end they had settled on a wordless understanding that she would tell him when the time was right. And then Mr. Frodo had offered for Sam and Rosie to come live with him, to which Sam and Rosie had replied that they couldn’t possibly accept such an honor, and then the three hobbits had gone back and forth like the passing of a cup of tea between them until it all turned to steam. In the end, a compromise was reached. That compromise was Marigold.

“You’re a right capable lass, Mari,” Sam had said as she cleared up after supper, the two of them staying back as the rest of the family, a rambunctious group, had scattered to perform their evening ablutions. This was a routine they had settled into after Sam’s return. “I know it didn’t turn out as planned, that midwife work of yours, but there’s still a lot you can do with yourself…”

Bit by bit, Sam had explained what had happened to him and Frodo in their travels, and what would now be expected of her. And Marigold had acquiesced easily. Perhaps too easily. She ought to have been put out that the whole thing was essentially planned already, except for the little matter of her consent, but she was not.

She had “met” Frodo Baggins when she was but a wee lass, some time after he had moved to Hobbiton to live with Mr. Bilbo from a place called “Buck-Land.” She had known of him before, of course, but tied to her mother’s apron-strings and occupied with Sam in learning her letters by drawing them in the sand, she at first had paid little mind to the new young master.

One day, though, as she had strayed from her playfellows, a little older by then and allowed to go farther from home, she had taken it into her head that it would be nice to climb a tree and see all the way to Eastfarthing, and perhaps even beyond. For Sam had been coming back more and more from his lessons with odd words on his tongue - place-names that weren’t easy to pronounce or remember, but whispered like the wind and danced like fireflies on a midsummer evening.

It was, as she recalled, a linden tree that she had climbed.

She had climbed nearly to the top, singing a song about the love of a Tookland lad - a cautionary tale of the places he’d take your heart, learned from her sisters - when all of a sudden the branch under her went “snap” and the leaves around her began to move, all upward. Before she knew it she had hit the ground with a heavy thud, a white-hot pain slicing through her leg. Her vision went white as well.

When she came to, her leg still hurt, and so did her head. But she was being lifted up from the forest floor by a pair of strong arms, though they were not her Gaffer’s or her brothers’.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” The voice was not immediately familiar, though not wholly strange. She had heard it in the past, in polite greetings and kind comments on a fun game, a pretty dress, or ball returned to the snot-nosed bairns of Bagshot Row. The accent was strange — more rolling languor than most hobbits she knew, but also a deliberation to every word.

He spoke to her like she was his own.

“Let’s get you home.”

Ever since that day, Frodo would visit the Gamgees often. Marigold, too, would go from time to time to Bag End to bring her father and Sam their luncheons. They all became good neighbors and friends, and soon the story of how Mari met Mr. Frodo by falling out of a tree became a jolly good joke to both families.

In retrospect, as Marigold had learned about the hobbit body, it struck her as strange that in a moment of pain she could remember such details so clearly. She had thought back to that moment many times over the years, as others spoke of Mr. Frodo as odd, fey, and much too given to reading books and wandering far from home. At times, when such talk came up she even felt compelled to defend him, but being by nature shy and accustomed to fading into the background of her large and boisterous family, she often could not find the words.

She thought of it even now, as she stood outside of Bag End, having arrived some minutes early as was her custom. She liked to catch her breath before starting a task. But it would not do to dream too much when there was a job to be done, so she squared her shoulders, adjusted her bag, put on a bright smile and knocked on the round green door.

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cntarella · 1 year

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Tagged by @domokunrainbowkinz haven't actually done one of these in a while.

Rules: in a text post, list ten books that have stayed with you in some way. Don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard — they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you.

Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux — Read this when I was 7 and it became my entire personality for 20+ years, I don't know who I'd be without this book because it so profoundly shaped my aesthetic and literary taste.

Paradise Lost by John Milton — I'm just saying that if I were one of those pretty penitent Catholic school girls who first got to see the installation of la genie du mal, I too would've wanted to fuck the devil. Paradise Lost has the same effect on me.

Trouble the Saints by Alaya Dawn Johnson — To me, such, such an underrated author and book. I know it won the World Fantasy Award but I think people should be talking about this book more!!!! putting aside the incredible setting (1940s new york mafia assassin with superpowers handed down from the trauma of their ancestors), ADJ is a superb writer who manages to gut you and gut you and gut you scene after scene. The ending of this book has one of the most scream-worthy letters I've seen since Amberlough and Persuasion (WHEN WE RETURN TO THE WHEEL OF LIFE YOU AND I, WE WILL FIND EACH OTHER AGAIN SEVEN LIFETIMES AND SEVEN LIFETIMES MORE. im literally taking a knife and eviserating myself rn thinking about it)

His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman — cheating, cause this is a series but i'll allow it cause it is a series of all time. Also one of the few authors I've found to ever create a non-annoying animal companion to go with you on a quest. Lyra and Pantalaimon, you will forever be famous.

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov — love of my life fire of my loins my sweet beloved who is constantly misrepresented on here, the illiteracy website. I wish I could take back everyone's reading experience of this until we've had a discussion about authorial intent. Aside from that, Nabokov is one of my favorite writers of all time; his word choice is inspired and decadent, and one of the more digestible Russians to grace my bookshelf lmao (sorry doestoevsky and tolstoy, i love you but sometimes...)

Pictures of the Floating World by Amy Lowell — A hiss of gold/ Blooming out of darkness,/ Rockets exploded,/ And died in a soft dripping of colored stars. J U S T how do words how do poetry. i love you amy lowell lesbian icon i want to eat all of your poems up in one bite

The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wollheben — one of the few nonfictions I recommend to everyone. I think we could all benefit a little more from learning about trees, and especially trees not just as part of the ecosystem but as individuals who form a community. This book really opened my eyes to how connected every single living thing is in this world, and how everything speaks to each other :))) trees i love you trees i'd die for you

The Doloriad by Missouri Williams — Now here is a fucked up book. I wish all the incest girlies of tumblr would read this and talk to me about it. I haven't been able to stop thinking abt this book since I read it, and Missouri Williams' writing is honestly top-tier, super slippery and well crafted

Prince's Gambit by CS Pacat — enjoyed this whole series but this middle book is simply top tier, which is honestly amazing cause second books generally tend to be the worst. I want to dissect Pacat's brain to figure out how they manage to make the pay off that delicious. Laurent my original little meow meow you've done nothing wrong in your life

Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente — i know the tumblrinas have gotten this one out of their system in like, 2015-2017, but i think we should talk about this more!!!!! who is doing it like Valente.

Idk who to tag, but feel free to do this if you would so like and tag me in it. I love hearing about ppl's formative books.

#about me #literature #books #literally impossible for me not to over think about this list #i have so many Opinions™ about books i am the most annoying person in a literature seminar

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twilightguardian · 2 years

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You do not lose Blake as a character if you take out the white fang. She’s not a character with the white fang. If you take out the white fang then Blake has more of a reason to join beacon than… some weird sense of trying to make up for nothing. Have her want to be a huntsmen because there is racism and she wants to prove a point or make a point. The white fang doesn’t have to exist if racism exists, because them existing did absolutely nothing for Blake as s character or the story. In fact, it only made her worse. For someone trying to fix the story, there’s a real lack of imagination going on.

Further, putting Adam in the white fang makes the white fang bad. It does not matter if it’s a rogue section, it’s still part of the white fang and makes them wrong. Making Adam want to commit genocide isn’t fixing his character or the white fang, it’s just make him even worse, and the white fang even dumber, because instead of taking the idea that Adam was forced into working with cinder and fixing that, instead you make Adam even worse with no fix to it. He’s just bad because he’s bad. There is no justifying anything he does. He does not have a point. You just made him evil to be evil.

You do not lose Blake as a character if you take out the white fang. She’s not a character with the white fang.

She was a character whose entire life was about the White Fang for the purposes of equality. Blake left because the White Fang no longer aligned with her ideals but she still got defensive whenever someone (Weiss) slagged off the organization because even though she left, she still considered herself White Fang. They were family to her.

Have her want to be a huntsmen because there is racism and she wants to prove a point or make a point.

You’re one of those people who liked Amazon Cinderella, aren’t you...

What point would be made?

Beacon, and the profession of huntsmen to a larger extent does not discriminate against faunus. Faunus are allowed to attend the schooling, obtain their licenses and become huntsmen. So what point would be made? That she can attend, as a faunus, a school that already allows faunus? Congratulations?

In the same sense that Amazella was tedious because it hamfisted a message as though it was some revolutionary concept (and as though better, stronger, more badass Cinderellas didn’t exist. Watch Ever After); this would also feel like a message that is several decades out of date.

The world of Remnant in Fixing is a place that still has racial issues. But places like Vale and Vacuo, both in Fixing and canon, are not places for grand statements like that and it would come off as empty. If you’re suggesting that Vale should just arbitrarily be made more racist so that you can get this moment in, why? And wouldn’t that make more of a reason for the White Fang to exist?

Blake in Fixing didn’t go to Beacon to make up for something. She went to find herself and think about her role and her place in the world. A different setting with doing unrelated things can put things into perspective.

The white fang doesn’t have to exist if racism exists, because them existing did absolutely nothing for Blake as s character or the story. In fact, it only made her worse. For someone trying to fix the story, there’s a real lack of imagination going on.

It really baffles me that no one seems to understand the concept of wanting to stick to canon as closely as possible.

Like think of it this way... Raymond is refurbishing a car. It’s a junker, but it’s about 60 years old and it will look cool when it’s done. The point of many people who do restorations is to do their best to keep the thing with its original parts as much as possible. Sometimes a part is so damaged that it needs to be switched out, there’s no helping it. But if something at all can be done to save it, it will be done.

You just say scrap anything that looks very rusted or damaged and replace it. That’s not restoration that’s refurbishing.

Refurbishing is not bad, it’s just not what Raymond’s goal is.

And a movement meant to advocate for less racism doesn’t need to exist if racism exists? Then... what do you think the White Fang is for, exactly? What do you think its purpose is? We know the writers butchered it by making them Team Rocket Gunts but that’s their utilization in the story, not their intended goals. The point is that if the White Fang was handled so poorly that it did nothing for Blake’s character, it gets polished up until it does.

For someone who accuses another of lack of imagination, there’s sure a lack of brainpower going on to understand this difference, which imagination also requires.

Further, putting Adam in the white fang makes the white fang bad.

No it does not.

It does not matter if it’s a rogue section, it’s still part of the white fang and makes them wrong.

Your uncle commits grand theft auto we’re going to arrest you as well because the entire Surname family must be bad.

That’s the logic you’re working with here. Guilt By Association.

Making Adam want to commit genocide isn’t fixing his character or the white fang, it’s just make him even worse, and the white fang even dumber, because instead of taking the idea that Adam was forced into working with cinder and fixing that, instead you make Adam even worse with no fix to it.

Define ‘worse’.

The issue with responding to this ask is that I don’t have any understanding of where you’re coming from other than some vague notion that you don’t like what Fixing has done to Adam. I don’t know what ‘worse’ is because I don’t have any grounds for what ‘better’ is. These are meaningless terms until you define the ballpark of what they mean outside of some foggy, arbitrary idea of good and bad.

There are many ways to going about ‘fixing’ a character up, and many people have different ideas on how to do it, and many different ways to tackle the problem from.

For Adam, some people might want to focus on restoring him to their initial idea of him as some morally gray mild antagonist who still fights for what he believes in. Some other people might focus less on the justice aspect and focus purely on him being an abusive ex. The former is what Raymond does.

But even then there are so many routes one can take with him. Make him a heroic figure who gets in the main characters’ way. Or a misguided character who ultimately still wants to do the right thing. What Raymond is doing is balancing out all of Adam’s disparate traits and came up with a solution to try and make him as coherent as possible while still retaining everything about him in canon. That he’s an extremist who wants results regardless of the cost, and his anger and sadness and feelings of loss and betrayal for things that he holds so dearly slowly degrade his mental soundness.

He’s just bad because he’s bad.

If you think he’s bad for the sake of it in Fixing, then you haven’t paid attention and that isn’t anyone’s fault but your own.

There is no justifying anything he does.

No. There is no justifying acts of terrorism and violence. These are not justifiable acts. No one is justifying Adam’s actions. They’re explanations to his motivations and whether you can see the road his thought process goes down is what should be discussed. Not that he should go down a different road, or you don’t like the road. Note that understanding isn’t the same as agreeing with it. It’s comprehending the actions that led up to his decision-making and whether or not it makes sense.

You just kinda repeat yourself at the end there, as though repetition of a meaningless point makes it more correct.

I’m not saying your interpretation of things isn’t valid. But if you’re going to judge something, then there should be an understanding of that thing.

There was a guy a couple of years ago in the server who said he hated Squid Game. He said it was shallow and didn’t do a good job of conveying the themes of Human Condition in the show and it boiled down instead to ‘Rich people bad’. People pointed out that, well, no shit it didn’t have much to say on the human condition because the theme was Capitalism Bad. Rich people and capitalism aren’t synonymous, but they are bedfellows.

If you’re going to make a judgement on something outside of personal like or dislike, and not be dismissed, the judgement has to be made on whether what the media was trying to do succeeded or failed. You could say that, broadly, not understanding the themes and character arcs can be a criticism, though it’s impossible for everyone around the world to universally understand something. There’s always going to be someone who doesn’t get it, and that’s fine.

The argument with the guy was a long one, and I wasn’t really involved, but it was an interesting one nonetheless. Because if you’re talking with someone who fundamentally doesn’t understand the themes, but is adamant that the themes are something else, you’re not going to have a productive conversation. If he saw Squid Game as a commentary on capitalism, or switched gears after being corrected, he could discuss how well or poorly the show accomplished its goal of capitalism commentary.

I hope this is a good example of why I’m a bit dismissive of the idea that Adam is just ‘bad’ in Fixing. You can still understand what Raymond is trying to do with him and still dislike it, and that’s fine. But I think ignoring what is there to blanket the discussion helps no one.

#rwde #rwby #fixing rwby #frwby #anonymous #sorry this took a while

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waitingawhile · 3 months

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ive been trying to look into dsmp lore more and since i lost interest in december 2021 ive been trying to read the wiki. but the issue is that the wiki only goes until december 2021 (tommys does at least) so i already know everything said. what happened in the last year of the dsmp lore wise? sorry this might seem like a big ask.

lore what lore nothing happened on the dsmp after December 2021 smiles 😁😁😁/j

I can’t tell if this ask is serious because I am incredibly under-qualified to answer this question for several reasons but I am so very autistic so I will take it seriously and do my best ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ☆彡

So Tommy’s wiki goes up to around the Prison break which sets off a few events that happen in the next year. I will start there.

When Techno investigates Ranboo death and his final message being an Underscore Beloved family photo, it leads him to Snowchester where he Tubbo and Eret go on a side quest to avenge Ranboo and save Michael:

Revengers settle on punishing Sam by leaving him prisoner alone in his own prison. Sam in prison arc is one of my personal favorite as a c!Sam girl. While he’s stuck in there alone he soon finds out c!Dream has actually made the prison his base ever since the server abandoned it after the Breakout. So we get about 3 streams of role reversal between Dream and Sam in the Prison where Sam in imprisoned in the one man cell and Dream visits him and they have weird fucked up little conversations together/pos. Details of this arc under the sub-header “Imprisonment” on Sam’s wiki.

After this, or rather meanwhile, Hitting On 16 is released, which serves as an answer to the question “Why did Ranboo just permanently die? I thought he was only on his second canon life?” and serves as a retroactive dubiously canon gay interlude

C!Wilbur then goes on a spree of self-reflection and decides to find everyone he has done wrong to and atone by apologizing and creating a new good memory for them with them (I have so many thoughts on these streams but we are killing nuance for brevity’s sake). His time spent apologizing to Eret, Tubbo, Niki, Fundy, etc also acts as a narrative tease for the fact that cwilbur doesn’t seem to have even thought about the apology he owes cTommy, who he drags along as talks about these plans. Eventually, he does get around to just spending some time with Tommy which results in Tommy revealing all that happened to him while CWilbur was gone (read: exile). The stream ends with them hashing out Inconsolable Differences and bullying Dream.

The cwilbur redemption tour culminates in what is absolutely a metaphor for his suicide, in which he “returns to his home town in Utah” and leaves the server for good.

In the same year we got the lore stream wrapping up Las Nevadas Which this thread summarizes.

After cWilbur’s and Las Nevadas’ finale, we get a long period of low activity regarding main plot line on the server, until eventually cTommy makes his debut once more in a conversation with Tubbo that begins the unfolding of the entire rest of the DiscDuo/DSMP main plot line which is explained pretty well by this commenter on the wiki. <-includes clingyduo team up against Dream, Dream’s revival, the Nuke, and the server Reset

TLDR: I am actually someone who was not a huge cTommy fan while the series was coming out (throw what stones you will everyone /lh) so I feel like I would miss several “main” plot storylines and instead would dip my toes into the streams of my favorite plotlines or characters. In my whole time as a fan I only saw about 5 lore streams live (tho I was a vod watcher other times) so my knowledge is patchy and selective to my own fan experiences and preferences. Either way I hope the links can at least get you to places with better summaries or if you were looking for info on arcs on other characters/things I neglected to mention feel free to send another ask and we can keep this miserable train going /lhj. I lost steam and direction while writing this post but I’d love to talk about lore and characters and opinions in general even in the year of 2024 I’m just out of practice so no worries and please feel free to send/ask more or even shoot me a dm 😻 peace and love on planet earth

#bout to find out anon is a wiki contributor undercover who got tired of summarizing and is looking to outsource the labor via tumblr asks /j #asks #aiden.txt #tumblrite gives worlds worst summary of dsmp lore. asked to leave the fandom.

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rainy-weather-supremacy · 4 months

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*I show up with a crate full of guns on your front porch* Aye wots this then

Character who would survive literally everything

Funniest name you ever gave a character

Who has the most disturbing lore?

What can stop Tara? Nothing? Anything?

Do the eldritch patrons exist because they are the fears we humans have or are they something entirely else?

Character you think your audience would hit with the bbg beam

Character that likes to fight

Who is the most „civilized?“

Why is Daniel the most stylish? Explain, now

Anyways I need yer help we needa throw these bloody bastards into the river lets go

Y A W O T M A T E ? ? ! ?

George, on account of probably being adapted to pretty much anything, and Ozan because he would probably survive no matter how much his body gets fucked up. It's just meat. Meat can grow back. Meat will go back. That is not a promise, that's a threat.

The Hat Man is probably pretty funny? He's also just a silly character in general.

Technically, Ozan. Whatever happened with him is probably really fucked up. Thankfully, the knowledge will not keep me up at night because I don't have it yet.

Coming from their powers, someone who has done no or very little wrong in their life would not be affected by their powers (nor would Tara want them to be) and could therefore stop them. Similarily, someone with the same/similar powers to them could stop them as, through bringing out justice, they have also made themselves injust through killing people. Also, they are still mortal and can be affected by spells, so technically someone could also curse them or something. (Why are you asking?? 👁️ 👁️)

Yeah, they manifest out of the fears that any creature has, including animals- Which is why the Flesh, which most prominently is about being eaten, exists.

Jamie. I feel like she just has the mannerisms and stuff to be babygirlyfied.

Mary. Girl cannot stop picking fights. BESTIE EVEN IF YOU WIN IT'S NOT GOOD FOR YOU-

Daniel. He often interacts with other people, doesn't have a weird appearance, he's just generaly an expert at being accepted and liked. Which totally doesn't come from any childhood trauma, nuh uh.

Um. He pretty much always wears formal attire, like suit and tie, he likes his hair to be perfect and stuff like that? Why does that question feel like I'm being held at gunpoint /j

Anyways what did you say you needed help with? I was distracted looking at these fine gentlemen with the sirens on their vehicles approaching.

#Asks #rain talks #ocs #the glass family #thank you <333

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dfroza · 1 year

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those who stand for truth are standing against the direction of the world

because truth starts with our Creator and many things in this world defy the existence and moral truth of Love (Love is God)

and since it is quite obvious that this world is no heavenly world, a far cry from Heaven, and this due to the curse of sin and death that fell through deceptive means, we have to be here doing what we do to keep hope alive, that of the eternal Kingdom that is and is to come, and of eternal life, which requires a new body.

the world has gone insane in many ways.

but the Spirit is here within the Body (children of Light) to illuminate and to invite others to see. this is why it is brave to “believe…” because some people don’t agree with the “narrow path” of life. when people want to be their own ‘god’ they want to do whatever is right in their own eyes. and this is certainly happening.

but this world that we now see is actually a temporal place to be. it will all come to an end. people may not think about the return of Heaven’s King but it is soon approaching. this should spark a sense of reverence in the heart, to think about the way we live and how we view things. when this world is all that a person can see or believe in, there isn’t much hope that endures, especially beyond death.

and we are still to “dream” and to follow those dreams that are inspired by the good within, to become what we are individually made to be. people fulfill all different kinds of roles here on planet earth. for some, it is the hard work of raising children. and not many get compensated for it. but we’re all called to some form of work. and time to rest as well.

without any kind of vision for life people lose hope to be alive.

but life itself, and each breath, is by the grace of our Creator who is good and pure. and even though this world is not pure, but there is still good here. and we know that things will be healed. all the wrongs done will be made right. tears will be wiped away in A grand end of time.

eventually there will be no more death or violence. no more corruption or deception.

the Creation will be fully restored. and we are given the choice to take part in it, or to fall into spiritual death.

Son Light is the only True path.

we need True illumination.

in this life we have to choose who our king will be, either self or the One True God and King. surely, there are earthly kings & queens but the eternal King is King of all kings & queens. in the absence of humility pride blinds the heart from truly seeing.

we need (Clarity)

[Anam Cara Ministries]

As if the resurrection wasn’t weird enough, here we are on Ascension Day. Forty days after Easter—days that have been filled with (and mysteriously empty of, in some cases) appearances of Jesus alive after his death—he ascends. A cloud takes him from their sight, and there are no more appearances. Jesus has prepared them for this, telling them to head back to their gathering place in Jerusalem to wait for the Spirit to be poured out. But really, nothing could have prepared them for this. The last few weeks, they have seen Jesus here, there, everywhere—appearing in locked rooms, disappearing from their tables—but this is clearly the final disappearance. The gospel accounts picture him as ascending into the sky, which would have fit with their cosmology—heaven was “up there”, and that’s where God was. Jesus was joining his Father—and, in some sense, leaving them behind.

But as we’ve been sitting with the weirdness and confusion—and unbelievable new possibilities!—of the Resurrection, what if here, too, is something entirely new? Jesus’ body leaves their sight, and now we become his body on earth. As if his leaving the visual plane of earth and our understanding of how things work opened up more than we could ever imagine—us embodying Christ in the world.

What comes up for you as you consider the Ascension—and its repercussions for us living out Christ in the world, even two millennia later? Is it all joy and wonder? Is there confusion—and even fear—in the mix? This Ascension Day, consider with God what it is to have Christ’s body “absent” from the physical world—and yet so, so present. Where do you experience Christ’s body today, this week? What is it like to consider yourself a part of that in the world?

5.18.23 • Facebook

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catilinas · 2 years

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Do you support Catilina in the catiline conspiracy? Like, team Cicero or team Catiline bc honestly Catiline is so #problematic :// #OTemporaOMores

Hopeful regards, a Cicero stan

i think cicero and catilina should kiss actually

#/j #hashtag lucius sergius catilina has done nothing wrong in his life ever #also treason is sexy so even if he did. yeah #AND YET i do love cicero as a historical figure! and YET you are sending this ask to me tumblr user Catilinas. like.#serious answer is actually that i dont think the catilinarian conspiracy was actually real :/#or not in the way cicero claims it was. the 'catilinarian' 'conspiracy'#there was a whole bunch of things going on. general unrest. gaius manlius vibing in etruria w sullan veterans #but also stuff was still going on unresolved from the social war! and also the debt crisis! various vaguely related things #happening all over italy and cicero was like Well Obviously This Is All Because Of That One Guy Who Has Failed To Be Elected Like Three #Entire Times By Now #honestly i think catilina had no idea what he was doing. like what was his plan. get elected but also burn down rome?#abolish debt...... in the city he was allegedly going to burn down??????#the wild thing is that in like. the first catilinarian. cicero compares him to e.g. tiberius gracchus and saturninus as would-be destroyers #of the republic. but the gracchi / saturninus / drusus also had like. coherent plans. they Knew what they wanted to do w rome #catilina seemed to have had zero Actual Longterm Plans other than like. abolish debt + maybe get a sexy proconsular province #and the wildest thing is like. if he really wanted debt relief legislation. why the fuck did he not just bribe a tribune #catiline is SO weird to me as a rare 'popularis' who had absolutely nothing to do w the tribunate Ever #dare i say sullacore??????#anyway. off topic but if you had not guessed. he is my blorbo. but yea catiline did nothing wrong hashtag team catilina #horrible horrible catiline. wow!#beeps

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mvttsvn · 4 years

Text

Good Little, Liar

Literal sadist😳Toji Fushiguro x bratty fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, ABSOLUTE FILTH, cussing, reader is a masochist, dacryphilia, manhandling, choking, pain kink, daddy kink, impact play, degrading pet names “whore, slut”, use of “princess”, Toji threatens to kill you like once👩🏻‍🦯, no prep, mentions of blood, stomach bulge, size kink, mind break, dumbification, no aftercare :/, angsty at the end.

authors note: 2k words, UNEDITED holy fuck this was supposed to be a short drabble but I got carried away. this is completely self indulgent, it so nasty literally how did I even think of this??? I cannot get this shitty ass dad out of my head... literally just ib this one pic🤒

You convinced him alright. Convinced him so much that he whole heartedly believed he picked up and took home a totally different person tonight. You and Toji and been together a couple of times prior, nothing too serious, went out for a drink, maybe kissed, probably rode him in his backseat. Each and every time you put on your good girl façade, always so sweet, and submissive. Following his each every command. Taking exactly what he gives and thanking him for it every time.

He thought you were sent from the gods, how could he have found someone like you, who fit just perfect under his thumb, so willing to do anything just for his attention. Yet here you were, same pretty little girl, same pretty little face, telling him “no” ???.

You were straddling his lap, on his rough leather couch, the tv lowly played a old movie which by now has left both of your minds. The dim light from the kitchen buzzing due to the bulbs starting to burn out, which completely unfazed Toji, but left you slightly annoyed.

“No?” He scoffed.

You adjusted your hands to fit onto his built shoulders had his began gripping you hips tighter and tighter.

“Nope, I don’t want my jaw to hurt in the morning” you gave him a coy smile, while tilting your head down to stare at him through your lashes.

His right hand came up and roughly gripping your jaw. “Does it look like I fucking care?” He practically growled in your face. In all honesty he was more confused than pissed, of course he was going to immediately put you in your place, but you had him genuinely concerned, we’re you always like this? Did he do something wrong?? You tried to shake you head but due to his grip you could only move so far.

“Now, on. your. knees.” He released his grip only for his hand to move to the back of you neck waiting for you to comply. You slowly leaned in kissing the scar on his lip to kiss down to his jaw then leaning back up to whisper two little words that could make or break your night, probably both.

“Make me”

the millisecond your breathy whisper hit his ear it was over, you were done for. Say goodbye to you legs you’re probably never walking again.

The force in which he pulled you hair made you shriek. He stood up tossing you over his shoulder furiously stomping into the bedroom. He threw you onto his mattress, you couldn’t help but giggle, this is exactly what you wanted it only added to his rage. He threw off his shirt, then gripped your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed. He was immediately on top of you, his knees digging into your calves holding down your legs, has one hand gripped both of your wrists and the other tightly around your throat. You were already breathing hard due to anticipation but now he practically had you life in his hands.

“What the fuck did you do with my good little girl hmm?” His voice darkened by lust.

“I don’t know who your talking about” you laughed again, his grip tightening around your throat.

Before you could make another comment his knee was pushed up between your thighs has the hand holding your wrist bunched your shirt up exposing your bra. He ripped the right strap off making you choke out a gasp, then he slid the rest of garment out from under you to throw it across the room. Toji mouth immediately on your breast teasing you to no avail.

“M..m..more” you choked out, you were in no right to be making demands but you really wanted to see how angry you could make him. His only reply was catching you nipple on a canine and biting down hard. You almost screamed, you thought he probably wanted to see you bleed.

He continued his teasing, you wanted to keep this game up for longer but your vision was starting to get hazy from the lack of oxygen. You started pawing at his shoulders, while wrapping you legs around his waist, quietly pleading, “I’m.. I’m sorry... T...oji..I’m...” the hand on your throat let go to harshly slap your thigh making you yelp in pain once again.

“That’s not my name. C’mon what is it?”... you met his harsh gaze, maybe just a little longer... “Toj-“ he slapped you across the face. You didn’t make a single sound but the tears pricking your eyes said enough. Lucky for you, Toji’s into that.

He met your lips in a sloppy kiss shoving his tongue down your throat. You tapped his collar bone silently signaling you needed to breathe, once he moved away he removed his pants and helped you wiggled out of yours.

“Who knew you’re such a fucking brat” he slapped your thigh again watching you squirm. His hand hovered over your already drenched cunt, as he starred right into your eyes. The flush on your chest started moving to you face. Why were suddenly getting all worked up now??

“Are you gonna give in already?, gonna be my good little whore again?”, you wanted to answer no again because he looked so hot when he was angry. The words got caught in your throat and all you could do was nod.

He lightly slapped your clit “Hmm need to hear it little girl, tell me who owns you?”

“you do....daddy” you admitted, you tilted your down, you couldn’t meet his eyes.

His calloused palm came up and caressed your jaw leaning in closer. “Are you sorry? Tell daddy your sorry for being such a brat.” He mocked making a fake pout. “M’sorry daddy, j..just wanted to make you angry.”

“I know you did princess...” He reeled his hand back to full on slap your cunt, squirming up the bed you let out a pathetic whine.

He slapped three, four more times now, and the tears started running down your face. He moved to tuck his face in the nape of your neck, leaving deep red bruises as he moved down your torso.

The muscles in his back rippled as he held himself up but the palms of his hands. God he looked so..big... not sure if he would ever explicitly admit the he liked how he overpowered you in almost every single way...but you liked it too.

There was no way you could’ve played you act for any longer, he would’ve choked you out. And would’ve done it with ease since his hand was bigger than your actual face. You knew how dangerous this was, yet still tilled wanted to play fire, but alas here you were once again, bowing to his every command.

“D..d..ddaddy..p..please..”

“Aw there she is” he lifted his face from you chest giving you one of his sickening grins. “I thought he wanted to play the little bitchy brat huh? What happened?” His voice dripping with mockery.

“N..need..you”

“How princess, you know daddy can’t help if you don-“

“please, PLEASE! need daddy’s cock! ….” you were getting impatient now, was this the most he was going to? you expected at lea-.

The scream ripped from you chest was silenced by the strong hand around your throat in a death like grip. He shoved his whole cock inside your tight little cunt, there was no prep not even when you were on the couch, he didn’t he stuff his fingers in your little cunt to stretch you out. You knew he was big, since the time he shoved his entire cock down your throat but feeling it twitch inside you making you feel like your being absolutely split open on Toji’s cock.

He gave a deep throaty chuckle, you knew how much he was enjoying this. New tears pricked from your eyes, wetting your cheeks, he moved his free hand pinching your clit between his fore finger and thumb, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. The hand on your throat gripped your hair moving so his face was flushed with yours, spatting in your ear, “You don’t cum until I say, understand?” All you could do was whine in response.

“I give you rules for a reason break them and I’ll kill you where you lay.” A threat, empty of not, it had you clenching hard around his dick. You glanced down to where you were connect, to be met with a indescribable bulge in your lower stomach.

Dear god, bless your poor cervix, he hasn’t even started moving yet and you could feel the intrusion all the same. He started rocking his hips slight against yours, at least he was giving you sometime to adjust, all while staring two lust filled hole into your head as you writhed and whimpered underneath him. He pulled his hips back to pull out but when he’s met with the slightest sign of blood mixed with the milky white arousal coating his dick, he could’ve came right there.

He gripped your hips sinking right back into you making you scream once again. “DA-DADDY..fuck..shit..” the tears running down you face only egged him on.

“So god damn tight, maybe I should never prep you again, if you’re gonna feel like this every time” he groaned. “Such dirty little words, I would’ve punished you if you didn’t already dig yourself a grave”.

The pained moans falling from your lips were music to ears. Profanities fell from his as he continued a rough pace, your tits bouncing with every thrust. He had fucked you completely and utterly dumb, no coherent thought where making their way to you consciousness. Only daddy, Toji, and cock.

You have gotten numb to the pain but right now you were putting all you effort into not focusing on the way his dick was bruising you cervix, trying so hard not to come just from the way his pelvic bone catches your clit. You didn’t realize he was speaking to you till he lightly slapped your cheek. “Aw look at you, you’ve gone all stupid. Too bad, if you played nice I would’ve let you cum by now.” The malice in his voice made you clench around his cock, squeezing more of your arousal on his thighs. “ at least you’re taking me so well.” His breath hitched as his thrust stared getting sloppy.

“Holy fuck, keep squeezing just like that-“ you saw his abs clench, “remember you don’t cum till I say” his eyes flicked right back into yours you nodded, more like messily rolled your head around. “Holy fuck princess...” he was practically already using your cunt like a toy. With a last few harsh thrust he filled you cunt to the brim with hot, thick cum.

The groans falling from his mouth sounded almost angelic. All you could let out was a low whine met with heavy breathing. The sweat dripping down his toned chest shone from the dim light of the lamp on the corner the side table. He pulled out watching his cum drip out of you down to your asshole and onto his dark sheets.

Your body laid motionless barely opening your eyes to see him move away from edge and walk to his discarded pants. Your brain couldn’t even process this as you licked you’re tongue to wet your now dry lips.

Then it dawned that he didn’t let you cum... that fucker. You couldn’t do a single thing about it.

Because here you were unsatisfied, speechless, practically crippled, staring blankly at the ceiling. As he sat and lit a cigarette on the opposite end of the bed.

Notes: I am so sorry. There’s just something about Toji Fushiguro that I just forget how to function correctly. Um I hope you enjoyed! And that I didn’t rot ur brain too much<3

ps: ppp..ppart 2??? fluff???😏

#I am ashamed #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut #fushiguro toji x you #jjk smut #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fic.🔪#jjksmut

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tippedbykreider · 3 years

Text

it’s all coming back to me | c. kreider (i)

Word Count: 8.2k Warnings: Slow burn, exes to friends to lovers, relationship breakdown, swearing, alcohol mention. Author’s Note: So many of you have been requesting for this to be brought back! The consensus was that you’d rather have it in smaller chunks so I’ll be posting each new part weekly and they’ll come in between 6 & 9k per chapter. Not only is it more manageable for you guys but it also gives me chance to keep writing new content for it 💖 There is a playlist for this fic which I posted separately, it gives a chronological feel for their relationship and their story. This has been a tonne of fun to write so far and I can’t wait to tell the rest of their story. Summary: Chris Kreider x Reader Insert. They say that all good things come to an end, that you can never have too much of a good thing, but when Chris decided to end your relationship you wondered how anything could ever be good again. A chance meeting 9 years later drags up all those feelings you both thought you were done with. Can you work through your hurt and pain to see what it is that Chris is trying to show you? Or are some things better left forgotten? Tagging: @danglesnipecelly - this girl deserves a writing credit on this thing because she’s pushed me to keep going with this and her input and advice has been invaluable. Thank you for all the support on this one, K 💖

*Italics indicates a flashback*

The notion of fresh starts is often something that is associated with the arrival of the New Year. People use the turning of the calendar to turn over a new leaf, to learn a new skill, to challenge themselves to be better than the year before and to let go of all that was and focus on all that will be. There’s something inherently magical about a new beginning, a fresh start; sometimes it’s the excitement of what might lie ahead and other times it’s the comfort in knowing that you can seize the opportunity be whoever you want to be and to reinvent yourself. It’s the line in the sand and the final full stop at the end of the chapter and it’s the anticipation of picking up the pen and writing those first few words on the new page.

For Chris Kreider this feeling wasn’t one that was brought about by the strike of the clock at midnight on New Year’s Eve because while the date on the calendar changed and while he still spent the next couple of weeks dating things with the wrong year just like everybody else, it still often felt like nothing really changed for him. Chris could only feel like the year was truly coming to an end when the first petals of spring exploded like fireworks in a symphony of technicolour blooms and he found himself giving the locker-room clearout interview. That was the end of the year, the full stop, the line and the warmer days and the balmy nights would give him the opportunity to decompress ready for the turning of the page come September when his focus would once again turn back to hockey.

Chris loved New York; that much was undeniably true. He loved the vibrancy of the city but he also loved the way that he could melt into the background or enjoy the feeling of quiet solace his apartment gave him. It was oftentimes a bolthole, an oasis of peace during an otherwise hectic few months between September and May but the end of the hockey season and the arrival of summer had him seeking the cry of gulls on the breath of a gentle breeze and that crisp, purifying sea air that always managed to fill his lungs differently. Rowayton wasn’t far, a little over an hour on a good day but with its coastal Connecticut charm, slower pace and pretty houses, especially the ones that overlooked the water, it was a world away from NYC and exactly what Chris needed to reset and recharge.

It was a Saturday morning in mid-July and for the first time in a long time, longer than Chris could recall, he allowed himself to sleep in. His bedroom window had been open all night and the welcome breeze snaked through the slats in the blinds and carried on it the faintest smell of salt and sunshine. Chris stretched his muscles in big pulls around the bed before he settled on his back and inhaled deeply, the fresh air clearing his mind and filling his body as the last remnants of sleep slipped away on the exhale of breath. Imbued with energy, he climbed out of bed and pulled the blinds all the way up, flooding the bedroom with beautiful incandescence born out of a cloudless sky. He didn’t make his bed though, not yet, because while he had left his room and was padding down the stairs, he had every intention of returning to the still warm sheets to read a chapter or two of the book on his nightstand with a fresh cup of coffee, a cinnamon and raisin bagel, that invigorating coastal air and the oceanscape outside as the soundtrack.

One chapter turned into two and two became three and before Chris knew it, the sun was high in the sky and lunchtime beckoned. It was shaping up to be a beautiful summer day in Rowayton and Chris thought it would be a crying shame to spend his time at home, even if the page-turner he’d held in his hands moments ago seemed incredibly appealing out on the back deck overlooking the water. It was then he decided to take advantage of that gorgeous sunshine, take in the scenery and stretch his legs by going for a walk into town to pick up a few essentials at Rowayton Market. For all it was a small, it contained everything he would need to keep him going for a few more days until he’d finally need to drive into Norwalk to do a more substantial grocery shop, something that he’d admittedly been putting off. The Market also had some of the best baked goods and fresh coffee in the village and if you asked Chris it would be pretty rude to not take advantage – it was right there, after all, and Chris never could say no to a still-warm Danish and Americano.

He walked slower than he usually would, a conscious effort on his part due to the fact that his legs seemed to want to go into an auto-pilot primed for life in New York City. He was in no rush though, he never was whenever he came here and even though it was a route he’d walked hundreds of times before, and one he would walk hundreds more, Chris still wanted to soak in all the pretty trees and shrubs that were nestled in amongst those classical New England style homes, all shingled exteriors and white, gridded windows in soft muted colours that mirrored the coastal landscape of the village. It was a world away from the brick and the concrete and the bright lights of the city and while Chris loved all of those things about New York and loved wandering through the streets of Tribeca and Soho, getting lost in bookstores and hole-in-the-wall cafes, he also loved the sand, shale and stars and those were things that he just couldn’t find in the city that never slept.

There were quite a few people out and about, Chris noted, most of them he recognised as being residents with their friendly smiles and waved greetings, but there were a handful of tourists too; there always was on weekends during the summer. Not that Chris minded, of course, because for all the village was a popular escape for those seeking a break from the metropolitan life of the nearby hub of cities, it never succumbed to the all-too-often inevitability of commercialisation and still managed to hold on to its peaceful charm, despite it not quite being the quaint fishing village it once was back in the days before the Civil War.

It was one of the reasons why Chris found himself retreating here in the summer and not making the trip back home to spend the off-season in Massachusetts. He would go back to Boxford for a couple of weeks, naturally, because family was something that had always been important to Chris and he would never miss an opportunity to spend time with his parents and sister, but if he had the choice between spending his entire summer being bitten to death by mosquitoes back home (his father always did say that they were the town bird, after all) or feeling the gentle kiss of the ocean breeze against his skin, there was no real contest. Rowayton would always win.

The main street through town was busier, which wasn’t exactly unexpected and if anything it only seemed to add to the charm of the village. Chris decided to head straight to the market to pick up his groceries, if only to facilitate the Danish eating in a more timely-fashion. He picked up a basket as he entered and proceeded to add only the essentials he’d need to get him through the next couple of days. He’d pay for his shopping before going to the coffee bar, because trying to pack his reusable grocery bag with a full takeout cup was a mistake he’d made once before and was sure to never repeat again.

With his groceries purchased and bags packed in such a way that the couple of bottles of wine he’d picked up wouldn’t clink together when he walked (it was three to be exact but after seeing the selection of cured meats, cheeses and olives available he thought it’d be a crime if they didn’t find their way into his basket to come home with him, and if there was cheese there had to be wine), Chris made his way to the coffee counter situated near the Market entrance.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d taken a trip away without the company of anyone else but the last couple of months at work had been incredibly stressful, with projects seemingly coming out of your ears and while you knew your mother had been worried by your suggestion of taking off somewhere alone for the weekend, she also knew better than to fight you on something you’d quite clearly already set your mind to. If you were being completely honest, your plans for the first full weekend you’d had off in months would have consisted of not setting foot outside of your apartment or engaging in any kind of unnecessary conversation had you decided to stay home in Hartford, at least this way you’d be getting some fresh air and the sun on your face.

It was just shy of a two hour drive down to Rowayton, which had the dual benefit of being close enough to home that it didn’t feel like a huge trek just to get there, but also being far enough away that you would be a complete stranger in this town and could take the time to decompress and recharge while blending into the background, and the place was pretty to boot. You’d found a little studio Airbnb not too far away in South Norwalk, figuring that you’d only be using it as somewhere to sleep as you’d planned on spending as much of your time as possible being right by that ocean with the wind in your hair and the warm sun on your skin.

That’s how you’d planned on spending your Saturday afternoon, sat on the sand of Bayley Beach with a good book and a cup of coffee. It was set to be a balmy day, with temperatures sitting in the mid-eighties and the last thing you wanted to be doing in the heat was any amount of excessive walking. So with that in mind, you’d spent your morning exploring the village and taking in the sights and sounds. The gentle protest of your stomach told you it was lunchtime before you’d even taken the opportunity to glance down at your watch and a quick Google search pointed you in the direction of somewhere to get that all important cup of coffee and a small bite to eat.

Rowayton Market didn’t look like much from the outside in the sense that it was a little on the petite side, but the reviews were great and the coffee was allegedly some of the best in the village and that was good enough for you. You were greeted with the smell of freshly baked goods and ground coffee, which was welcoming enough before you even saw the bright smile of the girl behind the counter. Your eyes drifted over the selection of pastries, each one more delicious looking than the last and you knew that you were going to have a hard time choosing just one. You knew you’d have to make a decision, though, suddenly aware of the small line that had seemingly materialised right out of thin air behind you and while you were sure that these people were more accustomed to a slower pace of life, the city girl in you, who was so used to living life in the fast lane, didn’t want to keep these good people waiting while you deliberated. You’d go with your usual and that would be that.

Chris’s attention was fixed out of the large glass windows at the front of the shop, watching as people milled in the street and went about their daily business. It was something he quite often did, whether he was here or back home in New York. There was something oddly soothing about watching the world go by, he thought, and occasionally he’d catch something that would quirk his lips up into a smile, like the sight before him now of a rather large gull in the process of committing larceny against what he could only assume was an unsuspecting tourist. Their sandwich was held high above their head while their free hand attempted to shoo the bird away with little success. He chuckled quietly to himself then, not least because the gulls seemed to get more brazen with each year that passed and he was sure that one of these days he’d see someone’s lunch get snatched right out of their hand by the feathered menaces.

Chris had no reason at all to believe as he stood in that line that everything was about to change. Why would he? The day had started like any other. He’d picked up his groceries in this store more times than he could count, he’d waited in a line just like this one for his coffee and Danish and yet, in that moment, something as innocuous as a woman’s voice would bring feelings that he thought he was done with, and memories he thought had strayed out of his mind for good, flooding back to the surface. But it wasn’t just any woman’s voice, no, it wasn’t as detached and neutral as that. It was your voice; a voice he hadn’t heard in nine years and it was something as simple as a coffee order, an order that he now knew to have remained the same since the day you’d first met at Boston College all those years ago, that blew the dam wide open and every word the two of you had ever spoken, from day one to the last thing you ever said to him, came rushing back.

The sound of Chris’s voice calling your name was something you never thought you’d hear out loud again. It was a voice you’d only heard in your dreams for many years after he walked out of your life, but even that had faded beyond memory to where you weren’t a hundred percent certain that you’d be able to remember what it sounded like anymore. And yet, in the middle of a tiny supermarket in Rowayton, you heard him clear as day with his tongue rolling around the syllables of your name with the same fondness, even after all this time and it was like you’d never forgotten the sound at all.

Autumn was beginning to make her presence felt in Boston. The palette on campus had shifted from a spectrum of vivid greens to shades of deep russet, amber, ochre and vermillion; but even above the changing leaves, the turning of the calendar brought a slight chill to the air that had you reaching for your jacket on a morning as you left your dorm.

Today was no different. The temperature had dropped again overnight as November creeped ever closer and it was chilly enough that you had to draw your coat tighter around you as you walked across campus towards class. Your brisk pace had bought you enough time to make a stop at the coffee stand just outside of Campion where your first class of the day was being held. There was a decent selection on offer, but it wasn’t enough to sway you from ordering your usual.

You rooted around your backpack for your wallet while the barista prepared your coffee and grabbed you your cinnamon roll, unaware of the new presence to your right, before handing over the money and taking the coffee and pastry bag from the young man’s hands.

“Coffee and cinnamon roll, eh? Now that’s the breakfast of champions.”

You turned your head towards the source of the voice, lips quirking into a small smile at the sight of the stranger beside you who looked to be not much older than you were, incredibly tall and broad for his apparent age but not for his height. He was grinning at you with a fullness that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and gave him a unique kind of softness.

“My mom would disagree,” you replied with a smirk. “If she found out I was having this for breakfast she’d be in her car so fast and dragging my ass back to Hartford.”

He laughed at that, loud and bright with his head tipped back slightly before running a hand through his dark brown hair that was shorter on the sides but had the faintest hint of a curl at the longer strands on top.

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not telling her,” you grinned as you swung your backpack over one shoulder. “So looks like you’re sworn to secrecy.”

You studied him for a brief moment, with the way he was still grinning at you and his eyes that seemed to sparkle behind his dark lashes before your brain gently reminded you that you, in fact, had somewhere you needed to be. “Well, I hate to impose a vow of silence on you like some sort of mafia boss and then immediately split but I uh I gotta head to class.”

“No problem at all and hey, your secret is safe with me. In fact, I’ve forgotten already. What were we talking about?”

There it was again, that smile of his that made you want to stay rooted right where you were standing and look at it all day, but class beckoned and so you gave an awkward wave of your hand and a soft laugh before you turned and headed into the building behind you without another glance back. If you had you’d have seen the stranger from the coffee stand watch until you’d disappeared from view, with that smile still on his face.

This little routine of yours would continue over the course of the next few weeks. Every Tuesday morning, at around 8:45am, you’d find yourself stood at that coffee stand outside of Campion to get your coffee and cinnamon roll, and every Tuesday morning, at around 8:46am, the tall stranger would appear beside you with his kind eyes and his bright smile. You’d exchange a ‘hello’ and a friendly grin and you’d laugh more often than not too while you made pleasant small talk before you both said your goodbyes and went to your respective classes, though you would always leave first and he would watch you go until you’d disappeared into the building.

It was mid-November, now, and the campus of Boston College was firmly in autumn’s frigid grasp. The temperatures continued to drop, seemingly overnight, which had you bundled up in your hat and scarf and the trees had shed their branches of leaves, crunching underfoot with the slight frost as you made your way towards Campion. Your hands were shoved deep into your coat pockets to ward off the gnawing chill and you were looking forward to being able to warm them around your coffee cup.

You approached the stand as normal, rooting through your backpack for your wallet ready to order.

“Hey!”

You looked up, your features fixed in a state of mild confusion while you looked for the source of the voice you recognised but couldn’t quite place. It was then you saw him though, all bright eyed and bushy tailed with a medium coffee and pastry bag held up in one of his large hands as if on display. He was grinning at you and cocked his head, beckoning you over with the wordless gesture.

“Hey, yourself,” you smiled as you approached. “What’s this then?” You tilted your head slightly at the items in his hand as he offered them to you.

“Breakfast of champions.”

Your eyebrow quirked as you took the coffee from him before taking a tentative sip, smiling while the warm liquid slid down your throat.

“You got my coffee order right.”

“It wasn’t hard,” he smirked. “You order the same thing every week and if you open that little paper bag I think you’ll find a cinnamon roll in there.”

Sure enough, as you opened the bag you were greeted with the sight of a perfectly formed cinnamon roll and you couldn’t help the grin that sparked at your lips and spread the full width of your face.

“I don’t order the same thing every week.”

“You do,” he replied with a laugh. “Every Tuesday for the last 5 weeks you’ve come to this coffee stand and ordered a medium Americano with half and half and a cinnamon roll and every Tuesday for the last 5 weeks I’ve been meaning to ask you your name.”

Your face flushed warm at that, not only at his words but at the sure little smile he was giving you and the way his eyes were sparkling. In fact, now that you were really looking at him properly, you were knocked back a bit by the perpetual kindness that seemed to rest in them and you couldn’t help but notice how they really were the perfect shade of hazel, like a forest with a deep bark heart surrounded by leaves that were every shade of green. You’d been quiet a little too long though and so you took a settling sip of coffee to give you enough time to find your voice again and tell him your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled as he offered you his hand, which was large and warm as you shook it.

“And who should I thank for the coffee?” you asked.

His smile grew into a grin then, the kind that you’d noticed over the course of the last few weeks that made his eyes crinkle and happiness radiate from him, before simply replying:

“Chris.”

“Chris?”

It was as if time had stood still in that little Market in Rowayton, where your surroundings become a still-frame and there’s nothing but static in your ears. You’d often thought about what it would have been like to see him again. Those first couple of years after he’d left Boston College had you imagining all kinds of scenarios, much like the one you were in right now where you’d bump into each other in a supermarket or a pharmacy, anywhere really, but now that you were living it, seeing it, breathing it, there was nothing you could have conjured up in your imagination that would have prepared you for what it would really feel like to see him again. If you were to be completely honest, you were glad that your coffee and cinnamon roll were still on the top of the counter because you were certain that they would have fallen right out of your hands and onto the Market floor.

He abandoned his position in the line then, as if you speaking his name was a call to him, and maybe it was, on some level, but the truth and simplicity of it was that you were suspended in a state of pure disbelief and even in the short time it took for him to close the distance between you both, you were still yet to move and fix your features to something more neutral.

“Hey.”

It was a simple greeting that he gave you and logically you knew that there wasn’t really any tangible meaning behind that single word he spoke and yet there was something about the look in his eyes and the warmth in the smile he gave you.

“It’s been a while.”

“It has,” you replied, finally finding your voice. “You look, you look good.”

It wasn’t a lie either, he did look good. The tall college boy you remembered, who was just a little too slight for his height, had filled out; you could tell that just from the way the fabric of his t-shirt stretched across the broad plains of his chest and strained around his biceps, and he was no longer clean shaven, which was something that had always made him look quite baby-faced. Instead he was sporting a neatly trimmed goatee and while he had kept his hair short on the sides, just like you’d remembered it, it was longer on the top than it had been in college and the curls were sweeping in a way that reminded you of the waves just beyond the Market door. He looked older, yes, which is exactly what you would have expected in the nine years since you’d last seen him but his eyes were still exactly the same, sparkling and full of mischief , yet still soft, perhaps even softer than before on account of the faint lines around them drawn by time’s fair hand.

“So do you,” he grinned. “You cut your hair.”

“I did,” you looked down as your face flushed with warmth, unsure exactly what you were supposed to say to him.

It was something you’d thought about during those imagined scenarios where you’d magically bump into each other again and you’d thought about all of the things that you would say to him. You would tell him about how much you’d cried when he left you behind to live out his boyhood dream and how angry you were that he didn’t want you to be a part of that, how it felt like all the plans you’d ever talked about were nothing more than empty words and how hurt that had made you feel. You felt like you at least deserved that, especially given that it was never just a casual fling between you both. After all, you’d been practically inseparable for two years. You’d been inseparable ever since he’d said those three words that mean so much. But now that he was here in front of you, all those words that had swirled around in your head and in your chest like a hurricane for so long, dissipated into nothing and you found yourself clutching at straws to find something, anything, to say.

Chris could sense this though. Of course he could because he was Chris and he had always been so in tune with you and your emotions and the fact that he was still able to read you so well was both a comfort and a knife in your chest, and while he internally grimaced at the fact he was having to fall back on using small talk between you both, he felt like it was what you needed in the moment. He wouldn’t expect things to go back to how they were after all this time, he couldn’t, and so he started with something simple, something he knew you would be able give him an answer to.

“So, what brings you to sunny Rowayton?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you replied.

“Ah,” Chris grinned, trying to keep the mood light. “See I asked you first and also, I live here so therefore the ‘question answering’ responsibility falls back to you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, at both his words and the silly little expression he was wearing and despite all the years that sat between you both like a void and all of your hurt that was held within it, it all seemed to briefly melt away and in that moment it was like you were back at that little coffee stand outside of Campion.

“I didn’t realise this was an interrogation. Wait is this one of those little weird cult towns? Should I be worried?”

Chris knew by the little smirk you were wearing that you meant no malice behind your words and so he responded by sucking in air through his teeth before speaking again with one of those smiles that went all the way up to his eyes.

“Watch it, Pickle.”

Your stomach fell right into your shoes in that moment, that name he used only for you slipped from his lips like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do, like he’d never stopped calling you it and like it hadn’t been nine years since you’d last spoke a word to one another. Chris knew all this of course and he didn’t need to rely on intuition either because he could see every emotion written all over your face.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly on the exhale of a breath. “I um.. Force of habit, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. “Although not exactly ‘habit’, it’s been how long?”

Chris winced at that, the reality of how he left things between you both slapping him in the face and he was filled with the guilt that he’d spent almost a decade pushing out of his chest and shoving into the darkest corner of his memory where he would hope it would rest undisturbed. He knew that you were angry at him for leaving things the way he did, how could you not be? After all, he was the one who had broken your heart and left you in Boston, but it was never as simple as that, even back then there was so much he should have said but that was something he wouldn’t realise until much later when it was too late to repair the damage. The thinly veiled hurt in your eyes and the way your mouth was downturned was demonstrative of that fact.

“I know,” he all but whispered. “It just-“

“It’s fine, Chris. Can we just forget about it? Please?”

He nodded, watching with a quiet kind of sadness on his features as you turned to finally pick your coffee and cinnamon roll up off the counter before he cleared his throat softly to continue speaking.

“You never did say what brought you into town.”

You took a sip of coffee to give yourself long enough to settle the thundering in your chest before answering him, because for all your heart felt like it was about to burst from all the hurt you’d managed to hide away up until now, there was also a weird sense of nostalgia that came with seeing him and hearing his voice again, and even though he’d shattered your heart completely when he decided he no longer wanted you in his life, your mother had raised you right and you knew the proper thing to do was to indulge him in a little small talk, even if for nothing more than old time’s sake.

“Just here for the weekend,” you replied. “Work has been nuts lately and I needed some time away from home.”

Chris shuffled on his feet for a moment as you spoke while his eyes darted between you and the door that would lead to the outside world and the possibility of the two of you parting once more. It was an unexpected pull that he felt in his chest at that thought, you reappearing in his life out of the blue only to slip out of it just as suddenly by doing something as simple as walking out of that supermarket back out into the wide world. For nine years he’d thought about where you were, what you were doing, if you were okay, if you were happy and with each year that passed without seeing your face or hearing your voice, he’d resigned himself to the fact that you were lost to him, drifting out there in the seas of life never to see you again. He didn’t know why you’d suddenly come back to him now, whether by some stroke of luck or twist of fate, although Chris couldn’t have cared less which one it was. All he cared about was the fact that you were here at all and it was an opportunity that he was sure he wasn’t going to waste. He didn’t even know for certain that you would want to give him any of your time after what had happened when he left Boston, but he wanted to at least give you what he should have all those years ago and that was an explanation and an opportunity for you to tell him how his actions had made you feel.

“Hey, what are you up to this afternoon?”

“Not much,” you shrugged. “I was just going to sit on Bayley Beach and enjoy the nice weather.”

“Would you mind some company? No pressure, of course, I understand if you… I understand if you’d rather not want to spend any time with me.”

You exhaled then and Chris’s shoulders visibly sagged, bracing himself for your polite refusal, but your response was not one that he was expecting and truthfully, it wasn’t one that you had expected either.

“Honestly?” you started, getting swept up in the nostalgia of seeing him again before the rational part of your brain could catch up. “That would be nice.”

“Great,” he smiled in what you could see was pure relief. “Do you mind if I grab a coffee before we head out?”

“Sure,” you replied. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

You headed out the door and were sure to stand where Chris could see you, knowing him well enough to realise that he’d be worrying, at least on some level, that you’d slip off into the crowd. You’d never do that to him, of course, even after everything, because while he had broken your heart, he was also the first person you’d ever truly loved and when you’d put the pieces back together, you couldn’t help but keep a part of him wrapped up amongst the tape and string holding those pieces together while you healed. It was in doing that that you understood that he would always have a special place in your heart and honestly? You were kind of okay with that because while the ending hadn’t exactly been perfect, the two years you’d spent together were and you wouldn’t have changed that time for anything.

You weren’t sure what exactly had possessed you to let Chris talk you into venturing off campus and out in the early-February snow to get burgers at Eagle’s Deli but you were cursing those sparkling eyes and that roguish grin of his for wearing down your sensibilities as you righted yourself after what felt like the hundredth near-fall. It was slushy underfoot, the kind that’s a twisted ankle or sprained knee waiting to happen and while you’d dressed weather appropriately in your winter boots and heavy parka, you were still very newborn lamb-like in your movements which was amusing Chris to no end.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he called from up ahead as he grinned at you over his shoulder.

“Not all of us can be hockey prodigies and thrive in this kind of inclement weather,” you grumbled, shuffling slowly so as not to slip.

Chris laughed as he came back towards you with confident and purposeful steps, surprising you when he offered his arm for you to loop yours through.

“Now, I’m no expert in geography or meteorology but it snows in Hartford, no?”

He was grinning at you, the kind of grin that you had to fight with every fibre of your being not to reciprocate because you’d already committed to your grumpy act and you couldn’t have him thinking he’d cracked you already, even if he, in fact, had.

“Yes,” you stressed. “But I don’t make a habit of going out in it to get burgers like a crazy person.”

The cackle you received from him in reply was loud and a little wild and you couldn’t help but be completely captivated by the way his cheeks were ruddy from the cold and the snowflakes clinging to the curls on top of his head and long eyelashes. Tuesday morning coffees with him outside of Campion before class had turned into coffees in actual cafes during free periods and getting lunch together. It was even dragging your body out into the cold to the Alumni Stadium with your blanket and your thermos to watch Chris play with the BC Eagles because you couldn’t say no to that damn smile and those damn eyes and even now, as you looked at him taking in the scenery along the Chestnut Hill Reservoir pathway, you knew that they were going to be the death of you.

“It’s really pretty along here,” he spoke, more quietly than before; softer too. “You wouldn’t think we were in the middle of Boston.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice walk,” you agreed before shooting him a smirk and a look. “Would be nice in the spring sunshine too.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Little Miss Chilly.”

“I don’t know what you have against being warm, Kreider. Warm is good, warm is nice-“

You shrieked as your feet went out from under you, courtesy of a patch of black ice hidden under slushy snow and you squeezed your eyes shut in preparation for the impact of your ass hitting the cold, hard ground. But it never came.

“It’s okay,” Chris spoke reassuringly, one hand tight around your bicep while his other arm was curled around your waist, holding you upright. “I’ve got you.”

You opened your eyes then to be met with Chris’s looking right at you, all moss and bark and warm. He was smiling at you but it was different to the easy grin he usually wore around you, this was softer somehow and all rational thought was replaced by one of those monkeys playing the cymbals. For the briefest of seconds, and for reasons completely unknown to you, the monkey tried to take the wheel and the idea of kissing him right there, in the middle of the pathway that had made an attempt on your life, flashed into your head.

Maybe it was the snow and how perfect and picturesque the scene around you felt? Maybe it was the fact he’d just saved you from slipping? But the reality of it was that those eyes and that smile held some sort of power over you that you couldn’t yet fully understand. You shook your head quickly, if only to take back control of the situation before you did something more embarrassing than almost falling on your ass.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you regained your composure. “This damn pathway.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Chris grinned as he turned so his back was to you and stooped slightly. “Hop on.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I never joke about piggy-backs,” he replied in a faux solemn tone with the face to match. “Come on, we’ll get you to the Deli in one piece one way or another.”

And that was how you ended up with your arms looped around Chris’s shoulders and his strong hands holding the backs of your legs as he carried you on his back to Eagle’s Deli.

Not twenty minutes later, the pair of you were shuffling into a booth as you shed your coats, gloves and scarves, Chris grinning at you while you blew on your fingers in an attempt to restore warmth into them.

“See, told you I’d get you here in one piece.”

You scoffed at him and shot a playful glance across the table separating you both.

“You’re not human, that is the only explanation for how you’re able to walk in that,” you nodded towards the window where the snow was still falling to illustrate your point before continuing, “and not fall flat on your face.”

“Or my ass,” he added with a grin.

“Hey, that never actually happened!”

Chris’s face split into an even bigger smile at your little protest and the pout that had formed on your lips and while the gentle teasing between you was simply a part of the dynamic of your friendship, Chris would have been lying if he didn’t admit that the reason he did it so often was because you always looked so adorable trying to rebut him.

“No, you’re right. It didn’t,” he mused with a smirk, not needing to remind you that it was him who had come to your rescue judging from the unimpressed look you were throwing his way.

“All I’m saying is that we could’ve just gone to Hillside for lunch.”

“But the burgers here are superior,” he countered, smiling at you. “And you got to enjoy a beautiful walk in the snow with me so who’s the real winner he- mmpf!”

Chris was cut off by your damp mitten hitting his face, brows knitting into a slight frown before laughing at the proud grin you wore at the accuracy of your throw.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said with mock hurt.

“Maybe I’m not a very nice person.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” he replied, but there was no teasing in his tone this time, only the kind of sincerity that had your face flushing warm and had you reaching for the menu to hide behind under the pretence of looking at the choices available.

He couldn’t help but smile at the awkwardness with which you were trying and failing to hide from him but soon joined you in picking up a menu and perusing it, despite already knowing what he was going to order.

It was a few moments before the waitress came over and while neither of you spoke the silence between you both wasn’t exactly awkward even though Chris knew there was something about his last words that had had some kind of effect on you. He was right, of course, because despite the fact that you’d had hold of this menu for a good couple of minutes already, you hadn’t actually looked at a single thing on it even though you’d made such a show of doing just that and now that Chris had ordered, a cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake, the waitress was looking at you expectantly. Unable to form any kind of rational thought under that kind of pressure, you found yourself simply saying “same” and soon enough it was just you and Chris at the table once more.

Chris was looking at you like he had something he wanted to say and the unreadable expression on his face had you feeling somewhat uneasy for reasons you hadn’t quite ascertained but probably understood on some level if you let yourself think about it for more than a second. He could feel the nervous energy radiating from you though and so rather than pursue his current train of thought, he picked a topic of conversation that was much safer and knew you’d be comfortable with: school.

You talked about your classes and upcoming assignments while he listened intently and you returned the favour while he spoke earnestly about hockey and his own academic workload. It was so easy to settle into a natural rhythm with Chris whenever you talked, as if you’d been having conversations like these for years when in fact it had only been a few months of knowing him and a few weeks of meeting up like this. None of that seemed to really matter though, not when the conversation was good and the chemistry felt right and especially not when it was clear that you were both on the same page when it came to your friendship. There was something else there though, something that was beyond being purely platonic, that much was becoming crystal clear and yet despite the ease in which it was to talk to him about literally anything else, there was something that had you stumbling over the thought of bringing it up.

You were saved from falling down that particular rabbit hole by the reappearance of the waitress, two burgers that were big enough to have your eyes popping out of your head in her hands. Chris chuckled from behind his milkshake at the look of disbelief on your face as your burger was set down in front of you before he reached for the bottle of ketchup between you both. You took the top of your burger bun off, nose immediately wrinkling at the sight of four pickle slices resting on top of the lettuce and tomato.

“Ugh, I forgot to ask for no pickles.”

Chris looked up from where he was squirting ketchup onto his bun, his eyes meeting yours briefly as his face split into a grin.

“You’re not one of those people, are you?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled as you began to pick the offensive green menaces off your food and set them at the edge of your plate. “I like what I like.”

Chris reached across and began to transfer the pickles from your plate to his burger, smiling widely at you as he did so.

“Well, I might have found a solution to this particular pickle you find yourself in,” he chuckled at the exaggerated groan and roll of your eyes at the expense of his joke. “You see, I love pickles.”

“You love anything,” you countered. “You’re like a human dumpster.”

“Hurtful,” he replied as he clutched at his chest. “But also true so I’ll allow it.”

You picked up a fry from your plate and threw it at him, immediately filled with equal parts surprise and a strange sense of awe as he reflexively moved and caught it in his mouth.

“You really are a dumpster,” you grinned as you shook your head at the proud little smile he was giving you.

“I am, so how about you don’t ask for no pickles on your burgers and you just give ‘em to me instead?”

It was easy to agree to his proposal, not least because his logic actually made a lot of sense when you thought about it, but mostly because of the way his eyes were sparkling and the way his smile made you feel warm all over, like the falling snow and freezing air outside didn’t exist, like your fingers and toes hadn’t been numbed by the biting cold during your walk here, like there had only ever been sunshine. It was also why you’d agreed to let him carry you back through the snow to your dorm, his large hands hooked around the backs of your thighs and your arms draped over his shoulders much like during the walk to the diner. You’d protested initially, of course, not wanting to burden Chris or put you both at risk of an injury due to the slippery conditions, but he wasn’t about to be convinced otherwise and remained unperturbed by the weather, gently reminding you that he had in fact got you to the diner in one piece in the first instance at your objections.

Truthfully, despite the mild embarrassment you felt at your complete ineptitude when it came to walking on ice, you couldn’t help but be more than a little impressed at Chris’s sheer strength. You wondered then, about how hard he must work in the gym to develop such a strong core because while you knew from first-hand experience how slippery it was underfoot, he didn’t falter once throughout the entire walk home and with the way he was talking amiably about his favourite places in the city he called home, and how his hands were holding your legs so surely and securely, you felt safe as houses with your chest pressed into his back – even with your thick coats and layers of winter clothing between you.

He walked with you on his back right up to the entrance of your dorm, setting you down carefully on the pathway that looked to have been newly shovelled before he turned to face you, his cheeks once again ruddy from the cold and your walk home.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ twice in one day,” he grinned, sucking air in through his teeth and shaking his head slightly. “But didn’t I say that I’d get you home safely?”

“So what if you were right twice?” you rebutted with a playful nudge. “It’s not like it’s ever gonna happen again.”

“Watch it, Pickle. I’ll have you know that I’m right about a lot of things.”

“Pickle?” you barked out a laugh, watching as Chris walked slowly backwards down the path away from you with that smile still on his face. “What kind of a name is that? I don’t even like pickles.”

“I know,” he called out into the growing distance between you both. “But I do, remember?”

You shook your head at him, chuckling to yourself with a smile on your lips that mirrored his as you watched him.

“See ya Tuesday then, Trash Can!” you hollered.

His raucous cackle cut through the silent flurry as he continued to walk slowly backwards, his grin clear as day even through the falling snowflakes.

“Trash Can! Fucking, Trash Can! Man, you got some serious chirps, Pickle. Can you throw hands too? I mean, I know you suck at keeping your balance on the ice but we could use an enforcer! I could push you around?”

“Anytime, anywhere!” you laughed, watching him with a grin until he had waved his goodbye and turned away before he retreated into the heavy snow.

Part ii

#it's all coming back to me fic #my writing #chris kreider #chris kreider fic #chris kreider x reader #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey writing

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cherryobx · 3 years

Text

She'll come around

request: "Can you do a jj imagine where kie really doesn’t like you. I know you did that a bit in the kook one but I really loved that and I love to see more!!!❤️

summary: JJ introduces you to the pogues but Kie doesn't really like you.

warnings: language, angst, happy ending tho

WC: 1,7k

(Not my gif, creds to the owner!)

If you knew JJ you knew that he was never the type of guy to settle down. To be in a long-term relationship. Or even just commit. He loved to party, meet new girls and take a different one home every time. It was just who he was.

That’s all he ever knew his entire life. Why would he want to settle down and just be with one person? He had been hurt by the people closest to him. His dad, for example. Even if he didn’t admit it to himself, he didn’t want to get hurt. He didn’t want to feel any kind of pain that came with a relationship, physical neither emotional.

But when he met you, he was willing to throw all of that out of the window. He met you at one party and talked to you the whole night because you were sitting alone by the fire. You talked the whole night. JJ actually really enjoyed talking to you. You two became friends after that. Few weeks later he found out that he didn’t like when you were talking to other guys. Or even worse, when they would touch you. He realized he had fallen for you.

He told you about the way he was feeling. At first, he wanted to talk to his friends about it but then after some thinking he knew that you were the one he should be talking to. After his confession, you told him that you liked him too.

You were hesitant at first though. You were afraid that you would just be another notch on his bedpost. But as time went on, you saw that it wasn’t like that. He actually wanted to talk to you and spend time with you. You were the first person he had felt the need to cuddle with. And that already proved that he actually wanted to commit.

After dating for a few months, he asked if you wanted to meet his friends. After all they were the closest thing he had to an actual family. Hell, he really wanted you to meet them. It took him a while to convince you because you weren’t so keen on the idea.

“I don’t know, JJ…”

“I’m not asking you to become friends or start hanging out with them. I just want you to meet them. That’s all.” He took your hands in his, pressing a light kiss on both of them.

“Please, Y/N.”

So, you finally gave in. “Fine.”

Hearing that made JJ happy. Like really happy. He was bouncing around with excitement. He just couldn’t wait for you to meet his friends. His partners in crime. Literally.

The next day, he picked you up on his motorcycle and took you to John B’s house. Or as they liked to call it, the Chateau. The ride there was too short for you to prepare for what was coming. You grew more nervous with every passing second.

Before entering the chateau, you stopped JJ so you could look him in the eyes. “What if they don’t like me?”

“What’s not to like about you? You’re literally perfect, Y/N. Stop stressing.”

“But what if they hate me?”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and leaned forward a bit so he was looking straight into your eyes. “Stop it right now. You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure they’ll like you.”

“I really hope so.” Your gut was telling you that this was not going to end well. And your gut was rarely wrong. You were praying it would be one of those times. Luckily for you, your gut was only partly right.

As soon as you stepped into the chateau after JJ, everyone’s eyes were on you. You only recognized Sarah Cameron since she was pretty popular in Kildare. The others were not familiar to you, although you felt like you had seen them running around somewhere before.

“Guys, I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Y/N, my girlfriend.” JJ then let go of your hand that he had been holding when you walked in.

“I’m gonna go get some water. Introduce yourselves to her,” JJ said.

“JJ do not leave me here-“ You tried to grab him but he was already jogging towards the kitchen, leaving you standing in the middle of the room with a few strangers.

The brunette boy with a bandana around his neck was the first one to speak up. “Hi. I’m John B.”

Then the boy next to him introduced himself as Pope. Sarah introduced herself as well. They all seemed very nice so far. You were waiting on the brunette girl to talk but she stayed quiet, sitting sideways on the couch and staring out of the window.

When his friends realized that she was not going to speak, they introduced her to you. “That is Kiara.”

You gave them all an awkward wave. You let out the breath you were holding when JJ was finally back at your side, handing you a cold bottle of water. “Thank you,” you said, taking off the lid and pouring some of the cold liquid down your throat.

“So, now he’s your personal assistant?” Kiara finally turned her head to look at you. Her eyes scanned you up and down, almost like judging you. No, she was definitely judging you.

“What?” you asked.

“He doesn’t have to do shit for you. Stop treating him like he’s nothing.”

You were actually taken aback by her words. You hadn’t even done or said anything to her. Why was she talking to you like that? It actually kind of hurt your feelings. You were not going to let her step on you like that. She had no right to talk to you like that. So, you dug up some courage and defended yourself.

“Excuse me? First of all, I didn’t even ask him to bring me the water. And second, I’m not treating him like some assistant. We’re in a relationship, we do things for each other all the time.”

Kiara stood up and walked up to you. She stopped right in front of you. She was almost to close for your comfort. Crossing her arms on her chest and leaning her weight on one of her legs, she looked straight into your eyes.

“You’re probably just using him. I know girls like you. You act all nice in the beginning and then break their heart the second you get a chance. That’s just how it is and has always been.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“So? I’m not planning on becoming friends with you. Like ever. So, you might as well get lost right now before you break JJ’s heart and leave it for us to fix. You’re no good.”

You felt so hurt and frustrated at the same time. The voice in your head said “ha, I told you so!”. You wanted to cry so badly at that moment but held back your tears. She was already mean enough, she didn’t need to see you break down. You had to stay strong.

Everyone else was just watching the interaction, holding their breath, too scared to say anything. The tension in the room was almost unbearable.

“What is your problem? I haven’t even done anything to you. Hell, I don’t even know you. Today’s the first time I’m seeing you. I came here with good intentions. I just wanted you to like me because I know how much it means to JJ. How much YOU mean to him. And you’re treating me like shit. This is so unfair. You make all these assumptions about me. None of them are true. Why are you pushing me away like that? Tell me, what have I don to you that you hate me so much?”

The room was even quieter than before your outburst. The only thing heard was the birds chirping outside and the summer breeze outside.

When Kiara said nothing, you took it as a sign and started walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” JJ ran after you.

You slammed the door in his face and started walking away from this place. JJ caught up to you though. “Y/N, stop!” He grabbed your hand and spun you so now you were facing him.

“I’m clearly not wanted there. I told you that it was going to happen.”

“It’s okay. Hey, look at me! I’m going to talk to Kie. It’ll be alright.”

“No, it will not. It’s going to be like this every fucking time I’m around her. She hates me.”

You sighed as JJ pulled you into hug. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on against his shoulder.

“Let me handle her. She’ll come around.”

“Okay.”

You stood there in silece for a few minutes and you were just gathering your thoughts. “Do you want me to take you home?” JJ asked, breaking the silence. You nodded.

“You wait here then. I’ll go talk to Kie and then I’ll take you.” He made his way to the chateau. So you leaned against his motorcycle and waited for him to come back.

About 15 minutes passed when you saw the door open. But JJ wasn’t coming alone. Kiara was following him close behind, eyes fixated on the ground. When they reached you, you raised an eyebrow at JJ. He just nodded towards Kiara who had just raised her head to look you in the eyes.

“I came to apologize. You were right. I had no right to talk to you like that. I’m just really protective of my friends and I didn’t want JJ to get hurt. But I realized that I can’t control their lives or prevent them from making their mistakes. I should give you a chance. You actually seem really nice. I’m deeply sorry about what I said earlier. What about a fresh start, huh?”

“Sure,” you said, giving her a small smile.

“Good, I’ll see you around then.” She waved at the both of you as she walked back to the others who were inside the house.

“I told you she’d come around,” JJ smirked.

You lightly smacked his chest with your hand before taking a helmet and putting it on. “Just take me home, smart-ass.”

"You love my ass."

"Shut up or I'm not letting you sneak into my room tonight."

"Yes ma'am."

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