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#moody spurgeon x you
frost-queen · 2 years
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Not yours, but mine (Reader x Moody Spurgeon)
Requested by: anon, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic​, @theletterhart​, @alex--awesome--22​, @elllie-does-the-posts​​, @floatlosers​​, @merlieve​​, @queen-of-books​​, @glimmering-darling-dolly​​, @denkisclown​​, @wildieflower​​, @meyocoko​​, @bubblybrianna​​, @justanothercoco​​ @idkwhatmyusernam​,  @subjecta13-thefangirl
A/n: Gif by me!
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Moody slapped a low hanging twig aside before it could hit him in the face. With him Charlie and Paul. Miss Stacy was marching in the front, leading the group on an excursion. Moody looked over his shoulder, catching your laugh. It made him smile instantly. A silly smile plastered on as he had no idea how foolish he appeared. He noticed another low hanging twig with a full set of leaves. He moved it aside passing by. 
He then kept holding it, to prevent you from running in it. – “Thank you, Moody.” – you said lifting your dress a bit up to step over a root that stuck out. Moody grinned sheepishly gesturing for you to go ahead. You let your hand rest on his shoulder as you passed. You then continued to chat with Diana, laughing at something cute. – “Wow.” – Moody heard say as Charlie and Paul had waited at the side with him. Moody let go of the twig, letting it snap back almost hitting Ruby in the face. 
“Hey!” – she called out, slapping the twig away before it could slap her. – “Sorry.” – Moody called out, joining Paul and Charlie. He caught up with them, tugging his hands in his pocket. – “Y/n truly has a great smile.” – Paul stated. – “She what?” – Moody asked caught off guard. – “I said Y/n has a great smile. Sweet and all.” – he rephrased.
“Oh.” – Moody simply answered. Of course he knew how sweet your smile was. You have been friends since you were little children. Moody lives next door so from a very young age played you together. The friendship only grew when you attended school together. – “She’s really kind.” – Charlie pitched in, wanting to say something as well. – “Not… not that I have dared to talk to her, but she is friendly.” – he spoke, rubbing his neck nervously. 
“She truly is!” – Paul answered. – “She has a great smile, is friendly, and has nice handwriting.” – he added. – “Handwriting?” – Moody called out confused. – “What an absurd thing to say.” – he mumbled to himself. Not sensing how his face twisted into disgust and anger. Charlie laughed loud. – “At least better than mine. I sometimes can’t even read what I wrote.” – Charlie joked out, patting Moody on the back. 
Moody groaned at the touch, feeling himself get agitated, but by what? – “From all the girls I believe Y/n is the best one yet.” – Paul continued, not being able to stop gushing about you. – “Of course she is!” – Moody snapped, kicking a tiny rock forwards. It rolled forwards as his eyes widened. For a second he thought the little rock would find itself a way under your feet and the last thing he wanted was for you to fall.
“Well of course we know you’d know.” – Paul informed, gesturing at Moody. – “You’ve known her your entire life!” – Charlie spoke indulging in the conversation. – “Say Moody, is Y/n a great cook?” – Paul wanted to know. Moody’s eyes widened in shock. He came to a sudden stop. – “Why’d you want to know?” – He asked, no spitted out with a grumble. – “I was just interested.” – Paul spoke up, holding his hands up in defense. 
“No need to get snappy.” – he said in hushed tones, joining the walk again. – “So you would know if she can make you pies?” – Moody answered for himself rudely. – “No…I…I… well maybe… but not perse pies. It can be anything actually.” – Paul replied scratching behind his ear. – “My mother says any girl that can cook good is a good wife!” – Paul recited, using gestures while dictating. Moody clenched his jaw. 
“What do you mean with that!” – he wanted to know, feeling himself get more agitated by the moment. – “I don’t know.” – Paul replied with a shrug. – “Maybe I feel like asking Y/n out.” – he so casually explained. Moody came to a sudden stop. Hands clenched into fists as they trembled with rage. What? Ask you out? Oh he was cooking now.
If it was possible there would be steam coming out of his ears. – “You want to ask Y/n what?” – he called out, turning firmly to Paul. Ruby and Anne casually passing by as they were holding back the rest. – “Ask her out, do… do you think she would say yes?” – Paul asked unknowingly. – “No!” – Moody shouted out, throwing his fist in the air. 
Paul staggered back against a tree bark. – “Moody?” – Charlie called out in shock, gaping at his friend. Moody stormed up to Paul, making him beg for a way out. Paul gasped in shocks when Moody grabbed him by the shirt. He brought the shirt up, knuckles touching his nose. – “Hands off Y/n!” – he shouted, blinded by his own jealousy. – “Mo…Moody…” – Paul whimpered, scared of his friends sudden reaction. – “Hey, Moody, he was just playing around… right?” – Charlie said in an attempt to ease the situation. 
They had fallen behind, the last of the group as everyone else was up ahead. Paul nodded quick, anything to get out of this situation. – “He was joking Moody.” – Charlie spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder. – “It didn’t feel like it!” – Moody answered with a loud huff. – “I swear… I…I… swear.” – Paul brought his hands up, pleading, begging with Moody.
“Don’t ask Y/n out!” – Moody called out loud. – “Don’t even think about it because…” ��� he suddenly widened his eyes, taking a moment to reflect on his actions. Why was he so angered by it. Could it be? Would it be? Moody let go of Paul, stepping back. 
Was it possible that HE was in love with… with you? – “Moody!” – he heard, turning his head. There you stood waiting for him, just a bit further up the path. – “Are you coming? You are falling behind and I don’t want you to get lost.” – you said loud enough for them to hear. Moody’s heart started to beat faster at your presence. – “I am coming Y/n.” – he shouted back. Moody came running over as Paul and Charlie followed. 
You waited for Moody to be by your side. He caught his breath for a second. – “Will you go out with me?” – he asked so bluntly. It made you quirk your eyebrow up curious. – “Of course.” – you answered, taking his hand. Moody sighed out of relief, giving your hand a little squeeze. He felt content, at peace, knowing his affections were reciprocated.
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ooo-yeah-baby · 11 months
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ok awesome thank you :)) could i please request a moody spurgeon x reader from AWAE (s2 era) where he’s lovesick and obsessed with the reader and is sure she’s his future wife? they’re friends, but not super close, and she says she’s not ready for marriage yet because she wants to go to queen’s college. so he forcibly kisses her and someone sees, leading both her and his parents to force them to marry. feel free to change any details if you’d like! thank you so so much ❤️
Lovely
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Yandere Moody Spurgeon x Reader
I only write sfw, feel free to send asks, Yandere themes, forced kiss, forced marriage, vixen shaming, I don't know, it's long. I don't really like it after the Mrs. Linde part, I did season 3 Moody cuz the banjo was convenient. Thank you for the ask!!
You sound lovely!" Y/N spouted as the last string on Moodys banjo rung out. 
"You're lovely- err I mean... thank you." He stuttered, blush running to his cheeks.
He truly thought she was lovely. The way her hair swayed as she moved. The way her laugh sounded as it filled a room. The color of her eyes and the way they sparkled when the light hit them just right. The way she spoke, especially when she was answering a question. 
Y/N laughed a bit at his mess up. 
"Why, thank you, Moody." 
During class Moody would find his eyes wandering over to Y/Ns seat across the room. Sometimes he'd miss whole lessons, whole class days even, just staring at her. 
Moody may not have been the smartest but he had a wild imagination. He'd imagined Y/N in a beautiful wedding dress with a lace veil and a bouquet of wild flowers. Of course, he'd be wearing a hand-me-down suit from his parents. Maybe with something new added, like a small embroidery from his mother, or some cufflinks, who knows? She'd smile at him with a tint of blush on her cheeks as she walked with her father down the isle and he'd feel his heart pump a million beats a second and then- 
The school day would end and he'd have to watch her walk away. 
But during lunch she'd always sit and listen to him play his banjo before going to eat with the other girls. She was practically his during that time. 
"Y/N," Moody began one day while putting his Banjo down. "Would you like to eat with me today?" He asked, fidgeting with his fingers. 
She just smiled and nodded before running off to get her lunch. 
After that she began eating with him a few days out of the week. She'd grab her lunch and sit and listen to him play and laugh and talk with him. Moody felt content for a while. 
Only for a while. 
Then he got the idea that Y/N had fallen for him like he had fallen for her. Why wouldn't she? It just makes sense. They were practically already courting one another in his eyes. 
He thought she stared at him like he was the only boy in the world. He thought she smiled brighter when she was with him. He thought she loved him. 
He needed her to love him. 
Finally, while sitting with Y/N in the school house during lunch, he croaked up the courage to say something. 
"Y/N, will you marry me?" His eyes shut and his hands balled into clenched fists. 
Y/N was just about to take a bite of a 🍐  and stopped in her tracks at his request. Thankfully no one had heard Moodys proposal. 
"What?" Y/N asked, putting the fruit down. 
"W-will you marry me?" He reiterated. Y/N took a moment to reprocess the situation.
After what felt like ages to Moody she finally began to show somewhat of a reaction. Her head began shaking and she began speaking. 
"No. I'm sorry Moody." She looked down at her dress and fiddled with the hem of it. Moodys face flushed with a bright red color. 
"Why not?" He pressed. 
"It's nothing against you, Moody. It's just, well... we haven't even really courted, and Ill be leaving for Queens College soon and-" She thought for a moment, "I suppose I see you as more of a friend too, Moody." Every word she spoke dripped with her discomfort. She looked down and started cleaning up her lunch basket. Moody felt betrayed. What were they doing if not courting one another? And she sees him as more of a friend? Then why does she look at him like that? Being married won't stop her from going to college. Moody would never dream of holding her back. He just wanted to love her and for her to love him. To spend the rest of their lives together and grow old together. "I'm hardly ready for marriage any wa-!" Moodys hand reach behind Y/Ns head and he pulled her face in to his, practically clashing teeth with each other. Y/N pushed against him, moving her hands up to his chest, pressing as hard as she could and finally disconnecting their lips. 
Moody fell back to the floor with heavy breath and Y/N stared down at him furiously. 
This whole fiasco definitely did not go unnoticed by the class. Y/Ns face turned beat red, either from embarrassment, rage, or a mix of both, as she looked around the class at the other students ogling at her. 
She quickly stood up and gave Moody a swift kick in his shin before collecting her things and running out of the school house. 
Moodys hand reached up to one of the desk tables for support as he pulled himself up, noticing the many groups whispering about the incident. He felt a lump grow in his throat that he tried to swallow back while fixing his clothes, then he ran out of the school house, like Y/N had previously. 
If something were to happen in Avonlea the whole town would know about it. Whether from word of mouth or Mrs. Rachel Linde going around spreading the good, bad, and nasty news. Of course Y/Ns parents heard about what had happened from Mrs. Linde who had heard it from a group of students passing by her home. She immediately scurried herself over to the L/N little farm and shared her thoughts on the matter. 
"Well hello, Mrs. Linde." Y/Ns mother said as she opened her front door. Rachel came barging in the second she saw the door move. 
"Mrs. L/N." She greeted, already in the parlor of the white walled house. "I assume you've heard of..." she looked around for somewhere to place her hat and coat, spying the rack by the front door, then continued; "Your daughters little fiasco at the school house." She placed her hat and coat on the rack and moved to sit in one of the chairs in the parlor. 
Mrs. L/N took a seat across from Rachel and pushed out the rinkles of her dress. 
"No, what has she done now?" Her brows furrowed. Her daughter had never been apart of any of Rachel's rumors and it was discontenting to see it happening now. 
"Oh its a doosy." Her finger pointed at Mrs. L/N. "I heard the boys talking. Today, in front of the whole class she caused a spectacle." She had a short huff  before continuing again. "You know I'm not one to gossip, but as your friend I thought you needed to know. If your daughter is truly becoming a vixen then you have every right to know. Knock the devil out of her before it's too late-" 
"Please, just tell me what happened, Mrs. Linde." Your mother pleaded, slightly irked by Rachel's coarse language and accusations at her daughter. 
"Yes, well, I was sitting on my porch moments ago when I heard the Andrews and Sloane boy talking. According to them, your daughter was locking lips with that Moody Spurgeon boy in the middle of class. For everyone to see. Apparently they both ran out of the school house around noon together and haven't been back since. Took their things and all." 
Mrs. L/N was shocked to say the least. 
"Well, I suppose I'll have to have a word with my daughter. Thank you for informing me, Mrs. Linde." She stood up and ushers for Rachel to do so as well, which Rachel did oblige but she couldn't help herself from shoving her opinion in the mix, again. 
"You know, with how many people saw this fiasco, you might as well marry her off to that boy. It's the only chance she'll have at finding a husband under the circumstances. Word travels fast and no one is going to want a girl who's been throwing herself at men left and right." 
"Of course, Rachel." Mrs. L/N sighed. "I suppose that's our only option." Her hand moved to her temple and attempted to rub out her forming migraine. 
"Well. Keep me in on the loop." Rachel added before grabbing her things and leaving, more than likely to go spread the word to every end of Avonlea. 
About an hour after Mrs. Linde left Y/N, returned home. Mrs. L/N had already discussed the incident and what they needed to do with Mr. L/N and the two were waiting for their lovely, possibly a vixen, daughter to return home. The second y/n walked in the door they dragged her back out and ventured to the Spurgeon home. 
"I don't know what happened, Y/N, but this is unacceptable. No doubt Rachel's gone and told all of Avonlea by now." Her mother chattered. 
"It's not my fault!" 
Mrs. L/N scoffed in response. 
"Well, there isn't much we can do about it now. Your fault or not, it happened. And now you're becoming a laughing stock. We'll have to fix this somehow, with the Spurgeon family." 
They arrived at the house, Y/N begrudgingly stepping up to the porch with her family. They were invited in and the parents went to discuss matters. 
Y/N remained standing by the door as Moody stared at her, eyes filled with guilt. 
"I'm sorry, Y/N" he mumbled. He wasnt actually sorry but he didnt exactly know what else to say. 
"Sorry wont fix this, Moody. You were supposed to be my friend. Now my reputation is ruined. I'll have to leave the island to get married with the way Mrs. Linde has been reacting." Y/N huffed in response. 
Meanwhile, in the other room;
"My son kissed your daughter. He told us everything. He will take responsibility. Whatever you think is best." Mrs. Spurgeon assured. 
"Well I'd like to believe my daughter had no hand but I was her age once too." Mrs. L/N shook her head. "I suggest we give the two what they want and settle it that way. It's easier on us and easier on them." 
Mrs. Spurgeon nodded in response and the two treked back to the front room. 
"You two will marry." Mrs. L/N said, an unwarranted smile plastered her face. 
"What?" The two kids said in unison, one clearly more excited about it than the other. 
"It makes the most sense." Mrs. Spurgeon added.
"Makes the most sense?" Y/N stepped up. "How does that make any sense?" 
"Bite your tongue, dear." Her mother warned. "It's not likely that you'll he able to find anyone else now is it?" Her mother continued to press. "Clearly you must enjoy Moodys presence in some capacity or you wouldn't have been near him to begin with. This is our final decision." 
"But Queens College!" Y/N huffed. "I'm taking the entrance exam soon!" 
"You can still go!" Moody chimed in. A scowl crept to Y/Ns' face but Moody pressed on, taking a step forward to continue his soon to be ramble. "I-I would never hold you back. You can go to Queens College and Ill go to college too and then we can be married after we both graduate."
"Very good, Moody." His mother congratulated. "That's what we'll do." 
And with that, the two were engaged. It was all over Avonlea. Y/N had her reputation back and Moody had her, although Y/N tried tirelessly to break the engagement.
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duckflyfly · 4 years
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Gilbert “bold of you to talk shit about my precious wife” Blythe
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weirwolves · 5 years
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Moody looked in my direction and you missed it! 
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oddinaryverse · 4 years
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moody: *pushing on a door that clearly says ‘Pull’*
charlie, looking at him while laughing: just push harder
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lxstdreams · 4 years
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would you be so kind — ruby x moody
Ruby ran through the forest as fast as her legs allowed her to. She had waited until her house had fallen in a peaceful silence before going out in her bare feet. The girl knew what her mother would do if she were to find out about her little night adventure. But it was worth it. Definitely worth it.
She arrived at her destination fifteen minutes later. Her feet were absolutely sore and yet she felt so alive. Ruby picked up a little stone and threw at the window. Or tried. It hit the wall right besides it.
“Moody!” It was a whisper, she didn't want to wake up his entire family. And so she picked another stone and threw it. Unfortunately, the poor guy had just opened the window and it hit him in the forehead.
“Are you trying to murder me, Ruby Gillis?” He was half asleep and a little cut could be seen in the exact same spot that the stone had hit him. Regardless of it all, a bright smile was plastered on his lips.
Ruby laughed and shaked her head. Never in a million years would she had try that. A motion of her hand indicated him to come down to meet her and the boy rushed downstairs.
“You do know it's well past midnight, right?” It was a whisper, they were way too close to the house to risk speaking any louder.
“I know but... I wanted... I needed to see you” she scrunched her nose, there was something that she just needed to tell him “I've been thinking about Anne's article. About how us women are whole since the day we were born. About how no one can dictate our thoughts or actions. Our minds are just ours, we own them. But... but that doesn't mean we can't share them. It does not mean we can't share our thoughts, and ideas, and dreams... And... And I want to share mine. I want to share them with you. I want you to know what bothers me and what makes me happy and what's my take on the world. And I want to know your opinion. I want us to share the highs and lows of what's left of our teen years. And I want all of this because I deeply care about you and I really want us to be equals.”
To say that Moody was shocked would be an understatement. No one in his seventeen years of life had ever told him anything even remotely similar. Ruby wasn't talking about a bland courtship or a planned engagement. No. She was talking of a relationship that implied not only love or infatuation, but trust, respect and vulnerability. And he was all in.
“There's nothing that would make me happier than to be your equal, Ruby Gillis. Maybe a new banjo...” at the joke, she rolled her eyes and laughed. She felt so good, so free. And most importantly she wasn't feeling like she was giving her heart away for someone to crush it. No. She felt like she was giving as much as she was receiving. And there was no feeling more wonderful than that.
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derit-s · 4 years
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Ruby and Moody are really cute and all but how about instead of making them look adorable in the background forever we also get to hear them being cute and adorable, how about that
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stargazing-imagines · 2 years
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Anne With an E Masterlist
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Gilbert Blythe
What dating Gilbert Blythe would consist of
Runaway with me
Billy Andrews
Stone Cold (WIP)
Charlie Sloane
Imagines coming soon
Moody Spurgeon
Awae Rewrite
You are new to Avonlea, but what would it be like if you weren’t the target like Anne was in the first 2 season?
Pairing : Gilbert x Reader, Billy x Reader
Seasons: 3
Season one out now!
Updated — 07/18/23
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plentyoffandoms · 3 years
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You Had Me at Hello
Billy Andrews x f/Reader
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Gifs & photos do not belong to me.
Main Masterlist ♡ Anne With an "E" Masterlist ♡ You Had Me at Hello Masterlist ♡ Billy Andrews Masterlist
Summary: Billy meets F/Reader on a train never thinking he would see her again. He was wrong and he became more than just a friend, he became her saviour.
Billy Andrew's POV:
My family and I are returning to Avonlea from visiting my Mother's sister in St. Peters. The journey was long but it was nice to leave Avonlea, even if it was just for the Summer.
My Father stayed behind as he needed to work, but I am sure it is just because he could not stand my Aunt. They did not like each other.
My Mother, Sisters and I were just on the last part of journey home. We got on the train to Avonlea from Charlottetown and I got comfy in my seat in the First Class part of the train.
After some time, I pulled out my pocket watch and noticed that we have been on the train for some time now. I decided to go and grab something to eat.
I asked my family if they would like anything and the only one who said they did was Jane.
I got up and headed towards the dining-car where I could get the food. All I asked for was for two apples as I did not want to ruin our dinners.
I felt someone stand next to me and I paid them no mind until I heard them talk.
"May I have one biscuit please?"
I looked over and my breath felt like it got caught in my throat. I tried to say 'Hello' but nothing came out.
She noticed me staring and gave me a soft smile. "Hello." Was all she said to me and I was done for.
I tried to speak but the food attendant handed me the two apples and the biscuit to the woman whose name I have not asked for.
"Well, Goodbye." She said to me.
I was going to go after her when I saw my Mother walking towards me, probably wondering what is taking me so long.
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"Come now Billy, we are almost at our stop." My mother said as she grabbed my arm and basically pulled me behind her.
I looked back and the woman who talked to me just gave me a wave. I waved meekly back at her.
My father was waiting on the platform for us, trying to show that he was a loving Father and Husband, even though he is neither of those things.
My family and I got home and dinner was waiting for us. I have missed the food here at home.
My Father asked about our trip and my Mother kept it brief as she knew he did not care.
"There is a new family that has just moved in. Their home was just finished being built not long after you all left. They have a daughter your age Billy and will be joining you and Jane at school when you start on Monday."
I nodded my head as my father spoke.
"Make her feel welcomed you two." The only reason why he would say that is because her family must come from money. I wanted to roll my eyes at him but all I could say was, 'yes sir.'
The weekend went by fast and now Jane and I are walking to the school house. Jane hadn't stopped talking since we left home. I knew she was excited to see her friends.
Speaking of her friends, Josie Pye and Tillie Boulter were walking towards us. Josie smiled when she saw me.
I was really hoping her crush on me would be done by now, but I guess not. Jane ran towards her friends and I met up Moody Spurgeon.
He told me what he did over the summer and I told him what I did. We heard the bell that Miss Stacy was ringing and headed on into the school house. It is my last year at this school.
"Everyone take your seats and settle down."
We did as we were told, even though Miss Stacy had to ask us to quiet down a few times.
"Welcome back everyone, I hope you all had a good vacation. Now, we have a new student joining us all the way from Toronto, Ontario. Please give a heartfelt welcome to Y/N L/N."
And the woman from the train walked out of the side room and stood next to Miss Stacy. I clapped my hands along with my classmates.
"Would you be so kind to tell us about yourself Y/N." Miss Stacy asked.
"Hmm, my family and I moved from Toronto at the beginning of July. I am an only child. My father was appointed Chief of Police for Avonlea."
I raised my hand to ask her a question. "Yes Billy?" Miss Stacy asked.
"Do you remember me?" Not the question I wanted to ask but that is what flew out of my mouth.
My classmates looked between me and Y/N.
"Yes I do remember you....Billy." I could of died right then and there and would of been happy because she said my name.
Miss Stacy pointed to the empty seat next to Diana Barry and my eyes followed Y/N as she sat down and our first lesson of the year finally started.
It was finally our first break. I joined Moody and Charlie outside to play some baseball, but they had other plans.
"Where did you meet Y/N Billy?" Moody asked.
"On the train coming home." Was all I said. The other guys came around to continue asking such nonsense questions.
Y/N's POV:
Seeing that young man from the train made my whole body heat up. I tried not to stare at him when I walked into the room but when he asked if I remembered him, I felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest.
How could I not remember him? He is gorgeous.
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As I followed the students outside, I was surrounded by some of the girls closer to my age. I made quick friends with Anne and Diana, as well as Jane and Tillie.
One kept glaring at me and I had no clue why so I asked Anne.
"Ohh that is Josie Pye. She has a crush on Billy."
I still don't understand why she doesn't like me. All Billy did was ask if I remembered him.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around and Josie was standing very close to me.
"I don't care who your father is, stay away from Billy. Him and I are ment to be together."
"Jessie, I hardly know Billy and besides you don't own him, so if I want to talk to him I will."
Her face went red because I purposely said the wrong name.
I watched as she stomped her foot and walked away. I turned back around and continued my conversation with Anne.
But Anne and Diana were just staring at me.
"Yes? Do I have something on my face?"
"You stood up to Josie Pye." Diana said.
"And?" I am very confused. Was she supposed to be scary?
"And? And? Y/N, she is the meanest girl in all of Avonlea." Anne said.
"Girls, I come from a big city where the girls would eat someone like Josie Pye for breakfast. She isn't that mean or scary. She just thinks she is better than all of us."
And that is how it was for the first few weeks with Josie. Josie would always try to say something mean to me but I never took it to heart, especially when I met her mother.
Her mother was a mean, rude woman who looked down on everyone. I purposely went out of my way to be kinder to Josie and she became kind to me as well.
She was slowly working on building a friendship between herself and Anne.
My own friendships with everyone in the school house grew as well and by the first week of October, I was friends with everyone.
Billy and I became good friends but I didn't like how he was a bully to people and I mentioned that in passing during one of our many talks.
"You know Billy. You are 17 years old turning 18 next month, do you think it is time for you to grow up and stop being a bully to people?" I said to him as we were sitting far away from our classmates.
"I have been trying because I know how horrible I have been to people. I have been trying to change myself because I want to court this beautiful woman and she is kind to everyone who she meets."
My heart broke when he said that. Of course he had a woman who he wants to court.
"Whoever she is I hope she says yes to the courtship and you two will be very happy together." I said to him as I quickly stood up and grabbed my lunch box and ran towards the school house. Completely ignoring Billy as he called my name.
Billy Andrew's POV:
I was hoping Y/N would catch on to who I was talking about but that just didn't seem to happen as I watched her run into the school house.
"Why not just tell her?" I looked over at Moody as he stood next to me.
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"What if she doesn't like me back?"
"Then you would just have to take that chance. You know the Annual Thanksgiving fair is coming up. Ask her to it. See what she says."
I thought about it. I could ask her. "Good idea Moody." Now just to figure out how and when to ask her.
It had to be soon because it will be happening this weekend. Maybe pass a note? No, I may get caught by Miss Stacy.
I went back to school house and thought about how I could ask her. I heard her say to Josie that she had to talk to Miss Stacy after school.
I will wait for her outside and ask her then. I didn't have long to wait until school was over. I told Moody and Charlie that I was going to walk Y/N home. Moody wished me luck and walked away with Charlie.
I didn't have to wait for long when Y/N came out the front door and I saw she was crying.
"Y/N." I called out her name and she looked at me, then looked away and tried to get rid of the tears streaming down her face.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I caught up to her.
"No I am not Billy. After I left you this afternoon, I noticed there was a note in my lunchbox from my Mother."
"What did it say to make you so upset?" I asked her as I grabbed her hands in mine.
"That my parents picked my future husband and his father would like for us to get married as soon as he comes back from his work trip."
I felt my body go cold. "Can you not just say no Y/N?"
"I will try once I get home but I know it will be no use. I don't even know his name." Y/N started to cry once more and I pulled her into my arms.
"There must be another way Y/N. We will figure something out."
"We will Billy?"
"Y/N, I have been in love with you since the first time you said 'hello' to me on the train. I will not give you up with out a fight."
Part 2
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professionalfixator · 4 years
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The Complicated Relationship of Gilbert and Moody
An Analysis That No One Asked For But Got Anyway 
By G.H. Tehrani, Psychology Student
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The relationship of Gilbert Blythe and Moody Spurgeon is complicated to say the least. It is also complicated to analyze, given that the amount of screentime of them is extremely limited, ranging anywhere from a few seconds to a minute. But from this little screentime showrunner Moira Walley-Beckett gave us, there is a lot to break down. While you may think this is an unimportant relationship to break down (why not Moody and Charlie, or Gilbert and Billy?), Gilbert and Moody could actually have a large role in future seasons and can say something really interesting about the state of society - but more on those later.  First, we have to take it back to the beginning. 
Where It All Started: Season 1 
As you all know, because we are watching from Anne’s perspective, we meet the schoolkids after they have all known each other for years. We don’t know exactly how long they have known each other, but since it’s a small town, I’m going to guess it’s been since they were little kids. 
In episode 3, Gilbert walks into the schoolhouse and we instantly know his social role. He’s the tall, smart, popular guy with the dark eyes that all the girls love. Interestingly enough, the first person to call out Gilbert’s name when he returns to school is Moody, who immediately pulls him away to ask him all about his travelling adventures. 
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Moody is, simply put, the opposite of Gilbert in Season 1. He’s shorter than the other boys, chubby and jolly. It’s not a far cry to say that Moody admired Gilbert, and aspired to be like him, especially since Gilbert is a year older. Most of the boys did. Moody most likely always wished that he could have the same kind of attention that Gilbert gets from the girls, instead of just being called “ridiculous” (as Diana delightfully put it). No one would ever call Gilbert ridiculous...he’s Gilbert! 
We can tell by their interactions that Gilbert is at least vaguely friends with Moody and the other boys. He jokes around with them, goofs off in class, and generally seems to be having a good time with them. 
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But when Gilbert’s father dies in Season 1 Episode 6, we see a drastic change in Gilbert’s personality, and this lends itself to changes within his relationships as well. 
Gilbert’s Crisis: Season 1 to Season 2
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After Mr. Blythe’s death at the end of Season 1, we see a much more emotionally disturbed version of Gilbert. He’s grieving, and not taking it well. He pushes everyone away, including Anne, and punches Billy in the face when he calls him his “bud”. Although we don’t see Moody in any of this, we do get a look inside Gilbert’s head. The insensitivity of his classmates puts him off and for the first time, he sees the gap between him and them. They’re still kids and don’t understand the weight of what he’s going through. This most likely factored into his decision to leave town and travel the world.
When he meets Bash, it seems like Bash gets through to him, helping him heal from his father’s death. He sings, writes letters to Anne, and seems like he’s having the time of his life (who wouldn’t be, travelling is awesome). He also discovers his passion for medicine when he gives birth to a baby in Trinidad. 
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Growing Up: Season 2
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While Gilbert was travelling the world, Moody was having some firsts of his own. He has his - presumably - first kiss in Season 2 Episode 5, when he’s forced to kiss Diana during spin the bottle. But overall, it seems like he was still the same character he was in Season 1, just a little older, but that could be because we hardly get to see him this season, at least in the first 5 or so episodes. 
But it seems that travelling did Gilbert a world of good, because when he returns to Avonlea with Bash, we see him chatting with his schoolmates. 
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He seems perfectly fine here, almost like his old sociable self, but there’s a distance there. Things can’t quite be the same. He agrees to help with the pantomime, but stays off to the side, not interacting with any of his schoolmates. He actually never interacts with his schoolmates after that brief shot in Episode 6 of Season 2, except for going to help Cole when he breaks his wrist (thanks, Billy), but that doesn't entirely count, since he was in Doctor Blythe mode. In every schoolhouse scene, Gilbert is sitting by himself studying for his vocation. We really don't see any kind of Gilbert-schoolmate relationship, nevermind Gilbert and Moody. The only times we see them in the same scene or frame was:
1. When Moody is backstage during the pantomime and Gilbert is manning the rig, however we don't see them speak to each other,
And 2. When Moody is about to lick the lightbulb and Gilbert, Anne and literally everyone else in the room yell at him not to.
So, this leaves us with Season 3, where most of Gilbert and Moody's interactions occur, and where we can really closely study their relationship.
At Odds: Season 3
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At the start of Season 3, we're put at a bit of disadvantage. We have no idea what happened in the last 2 years since Season 2, but we can assume that it followed the same pattern, the schoolkids growing up and having new experiences, while Gilbert drifted away into adulthood.
At the beginning of Season 3, we see him playing hockey with the boys, so he isn't completely detached (yet). Gilbert is still ignoring Ruby (more on that later) and Moody is flirting with Diana. 
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Again they don't interact. Now, just because we don't SEE them interact doesn't mean that they never do, but it's safe to say that outside of the canon scenes, they don't either. Case in point: the 3x01 classroom scene. Gilbert is sitting in a corner reading a book, and Moody is on the other end of the room talking with some other boys. No interaction.
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Gilbert is playing with them, yes, but that doesn't mean he is ONE of them, not anymore anyway. (Note: It is mentioned that he leaves often to go to Charlottetown for his apprenticeship with Dr. Ward.) The boys probably view him as less of a peer and more of this distant figure who is sometimes there and sometimes isn't.
But! Remember what we mentioned early on in this essay: "It’s not a far cry to say that Moody admired Gilbert, and aspired to be like him, especially since Gilbert is a year older. [...] Moody most likely always wished that he could have the same kind of attention that Gilbert gets from the girls."
Things have changed now, Moody is older. Slimmer and taller, but that doesn't mean he's not still insecure. He still respects Gilbert and his opinion. The evidence for this? 
1. In 3x05, when Moody is injured and the Indigenous healer offers him the leaf of a weeping tree, he initially refuses, only accepting because it was Gilbert who told him it was okay to eat it, 
2. Also in 3x05, Moody asks Dr. Gilbert if it’s okay to dance, but Gilbert says no, so he doesn’t dance, 
3. And in 3x07, when Moody rightfully criticizes Anne for her article, the moment Gilbert claps back at him in her defence, he immediately shuts up and looks almost sheepish - showing us that he really values Gilbert’s opinion, even though earlier on they are clearly seen arguing - only interrupted by Miss Stacy’s paper airplane. 
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These are all moments that show us that Moody respects Gilbert, because he’s older and is studying to be a doctor. However, he is the only one that thinks that way. By this point, most of the Avonlea boys don’t want to be friends with Gilbert anymore (this is made clear by the fact that none of the boys are seen talking to him ever). Gilbert has pushed them away enough times for them to stay away. But Moody is the only one who still wants to be friends with Gilbert. This is evidenced by: 
1. In 3x08, Moody actively attempts to make conversation with Gilbert at Miss Stacy’s house. He asks him about Winifred and invites him to the ruins (possibly hopeful that he would actually show up), 
2. Also in 3x08, Moody hyperventilates and yells, “Where is Gilbert!?” - either because of Gilbert’s doctor status or because he wanted him to be there for moral support, 
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3. In 3x09, when they’re rebuilding the school, Moody AGAIN tries to make conversation with Gilbert, asking him about Winnie and what he’s going to do after he’s married, but Gilbert blows him off and walks away in the middle of their conversation, 
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4. and finally, in 3x10, when they get their exam results, Moody congratulates Gilbert by calling him PEI’s finest.  
More than once we see Moody try to be Gilbert’s friend, supportive of him, and time and time again Gilbert blows him off or treats him like he’s less than. Because in Gilbert’s mind, he is. Moody could never understand him. We can tell by his responses to Moody’s advances. Blank stare, eyebrows, “That’s not how it works”, “I know what you meant Moody” or just not showing up. He doesn’t show up to the ruins, the only reason he went there was to talk to Anne. He treats Moody like he’s below him or just one of his patients - like in 3x05. 
Not to mention that he purposefully humiliated him in 3x07 in front of Ruby. Moody was right about Anne’s article, and he was in the right to voice his opinion, and Gilbert arguably crossed a line by putting him down, exposing Moody’s feelings for Ruby to the class (don’t think Gilbert chose a random person for his demonstration). 
But, I’m not going to get too ahead of myself, because we haven’t even talked about Ruby yet. 
Gilbert, Moody and Ruby: Season 1 to Season 3
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Ruby genuinely loved Gilbert. 
That’s a bold statement, but it is arguably true. She cared for him, about as much as a 10 to 16-year-old could given their less developed prefrontal cortex. Sure, it was a little obsessive, but you can’t tell me there wasn’t some actual feeling in there. In 1x03, Josie tells us Ruby has liked Gilbert for three years, and by the time we get to Season 3, six years. 
S i x y e a r s. For Ruby to be able to like Gilbert for six years, she must have seen something in him other than looks (though she mentions it the most). In Season 1, Gilbert is handsome, kind, charismatic, and smart. I could see where she’s coming from. He was a good guy. 
But here’s the thing, for all of Ruby’s love and adoration, Gilbert never gave her a single thing back. (Yes, he lifted her off the ground, but that was because Anne was there.) 
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Not once did Gilbert ever do anything nice for Ruby because he actually wanted to. No matter what Ruby would do, how obvious she made her feelings, Gilbert ignored her and liked Anne - her best friend(!) instead. The gentlemanly thing to do would have been to tell Ruby he wasn’t interested in her, but that never happened. I don’t know if that makes Gilbert an oblivious boy or a jerk. But he couldn’t have been that oblivious since he’s an observant guy. 
The only explanation would be that he didn’t see Ruby an important person to clear things up with. Again, we see Gilbert deeming people less than because of his own cognitive bias toward thinking he is superior to everyone else in maturity because of his life experience. The only reason he paid any attention to Anne in the first place, was because he deemed her as an equal to his superior maturity, which she was. 
Given all this, where does Moody fit in? 
Moody was always a good friend to Ruby. We don’t see it very much, but they were in the same school together, and Moody helped her and Anne save Miss Stacy. 
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But that also means, being Ruby’s acquaintance/friend, he watched her cry over Gilbert for six years. 
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For six years, he has seen Ruby try and fail to get Gilbert’s attention and be disappointed when it doesn’t work out. A never-ending cycle of tears and hurt, that Moody could do nothing to help because he was just her guy friend. We know Moody wants to help people -  that’s why he’s going to become a minister - so for him to be unable to help Ruby is just painful. 
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In Season 3, Moody has experienced a similar situation with Diana (Diana deems people less than because of her superior social status and wealth), so now he knows how Ruby feels and he’s even more empathetic toward her.
Does Moody harbor resentment toward Gilbert for his treatment of Ruby? Maybe. 
In 3x03, when Ruby is crying over Gilbert’s absence (again) and accidentally wrote his name in the newspaper. Everyone laughs but Moody looks on sympathetically, showing this is upsetting him more than it is amusing him. 
When Ruby says, “Gilbert was so heroic”, Moody gives her his handkerchief, which in that time period was a very heroic thing to do. It’s an act of romance and the first nice thing a boy has ever done for Ruby...which is kind of sad if you think about it. Moody is conveying in that moment that Gilbert isn’t the only heroic boy in Avonlea (he is too). 
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This means so much to her, that she ends up getting over Gilbert and falling for Moody instead, which is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen on TV. 
The Future of Gilbert and Moody: Season 4 and Beyond
Even though Anne with an E was sadly cancelled in November 2019, due to an ongoing dispute between Netflix and CBC, that doesn’t mean we can’t theorize about the content of a future Season 4 and 5. 
We know Moody is going to be going to Queens withe rest of his classmates and Gilbert is going to University of Toronto. However, Moody’s time at Queens is probably temporary. In the books, he becomes a minister, so I searched up Bible Colleges in Canada to see where he would be able to train as one. I discovered that a new college had just opened in the late 1890s: Toronto Bible College, which trained common-folk as missionaries and ministers. 
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The cool part? Toronto Bible College was down the street from University of Toronto. 
Moody and Gilbert would be going to school together, maybe even rooming together, for the next 3 years. 
How would their relationship in Seasons 1 - 3 factor in to their experience as roommates? It would be interesting to see Moody confront Gilbert for what he did to Ruby. This would give Gilbert an opportunity to redeem himself and be likable again. 
Some Controversial Conclusions on Gilbert Blythe 
I started this essay in early January, but it is now late March and I have left the Anne with an E fandom. One of the reasons I left was the growing toxicity and idealization of Gilbert. All the time I would see tweets and posts claiming that, “Gilbert is my dream man”, “I wish I had a guy like Gilbert”, “The only good guys are fictional (Gilbert)”. It ticked me off because it’s just not true. Gilbert is not a good guy. He is a jerk with a superiority complex. 
In every version of Anne, Gilbert completely worships Anne. He adores her, writes poems for her, almost dies without her. He is very needy and clingy, and we view that as romantic, because we want to be worshiped. 
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Dating Gilbert would include him being unable to survive without you, constantly fearing you’re going to fall out of love with him, needing constant reiteration of your feelings, showering you with affection and flowery words, and possibly not allowing you to have any male friends. That isn’t romantic. 
Being true equals in a secure relationship would be understanding that you love each other - and being secure in that - and being able to let them be free to do the things they want to do without constantly needing validation. I’m not saying Gilbert in AWAE is toxic, but he has severe communication issues that no girl should have to put up with. 
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Note: I’m not saying that Gilbert is a bad person through and through. He is a gentle soul, we see it in his interactions with Bash, Mary and Delphine. A lot of his negative actions may have subconscious causes. But we’re not slaves to our subconscious. Even if we are implicitly being a jerk, there are still conscious ways to change our behavior and become better people.  
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anneshirlxy · 4 years
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Sorting the awae characters into Hogwarts Houses
Because I’m trash and I have opinions
❤️Gryffindor❤️
Anne Shirley Cuthburt- Anne is a Gryffindor! She’s brave and and chivalrous. She fights for whats right! I see a lot of people putting her in Ravenclaw, and yes she is very smart. However Anne is very much someone who acts before she thinks, which is definitely more Gryffindor.
Minnie May Berry- this child went up to a criminal and kicked him! I also feel like she’s going to end up being a rebellious teenager (even more so then Diana because she won’t lie about it) as she has no care for propriety. Big Gryffindor vibes
Moody Spurgeon- I feel like Moody’s a Neville Longbottom type character. It’s doesn’t seem like he would be a Gryffindor, hes a bit of an underdog and expected to be In Hufflepuff, but the sorting hat (in this case me) sees how brave he is.
Philippa Gordon- she may not be in awae, but she’s still one of my favorite characters in the series (kinda mad she won’t be brought to screen). I feel like if you’ve read the books you understand why I put her here.
Mary Lacroix- she is just so strong and powerful! Like she raised a child on her own, I mean really can’t get more brave then that. Also look at how she treated bash when she first met him, she takes no shit!
💙Ravenclaw💙
Winifred Rose- women of her financial status often didn’t work. Winifred was obviously very smart and academically focused (I imagine her family life was a bit like Diana’s and she had to fight for her position at Dr. Wards)
Diana Berry- look at my bby girl! Fighting for her education! She just wants to learn! Also blue is her color.
Ka’kwet- another icon who just wanted to go to school. I mean because people are awful it didn’t work out, but she is such a bright girl.
Murial Stacy- I don’t think I have to explain this one.
John Blythe- we don’t really know that much about him but he was reading Walt Whitman on hes death bed.
💛Hufflepuff💛
Gilbert Blythe- I feel like Gilbert could have been a Slytherin or a Ravenclaw, but I put him in Hufflepuff for 3 reasons. 1. He is definitely honest and loyal. He defends his friends and family constantly. 2. He is very hardworking. I think that he had a Slytherin momment when he considered going the easy way by marrying Winifred for his ambitions, but he ended up going agianst it for his heart (a Hufflepuff move) 3. I’m a Hufflepuff and I’m selfish. He would look so cute in yellow though!
Cole Mackenzie- Hufflepuff artist boy, need I say more
Mathew Cuthbert- I mean i think it’s obvious...
Marilla Cuthbert- she values loyalty and hard work a lot. Also I think the Cuthberts were probably a majority Hufflepuff family.
Ruby Gillis- literal baby. Agian, no explanation needed
Bash Lacroix- he loves his family so much! He’s got such a big heart and works so hard!
Thomas Lynde- we don’t really know much about him, but he seems nice and really just lets Rachel do all the talking. (Also Rachel’s a Slytherin and Hufflepuff x Slytherin is really hecking cute)
💚Slytherin💚
Josephine Barry- I have this theory that the Barry’s are an old Slytherin family. Everyone in the family has been sorted into sytherin untill Diana and Minnie May. Ms. Barry is definitely a queen and I think she’s very ambitious. She really takes no shit.
Mr&Mrs Andrews- I think the Andrews are another old Slytherin family where everyone’s been put in that house for generations.
Billy Andrews- 1. He’s an Andrews 2. He’s cunning, ambitious and a little bitch (also he is very mean, but we don’t support negative Slytherin stereotypes in this household.)
Prissy Andrews- ok I was so close to putting this queen in Ravenclaw. However in the first two seasons she did bend to the will of her family. I think she would be someone who asked to be in Slytherin even though the hat saw her Ravenclaw potential. Also her standing up to her father and asking for her dowery? I could definitely see a Slytherin doing that. (Although once she marries Winnie and they raise 2 kids who are both put into Ravenclaw. She disowns herself from Slytherin and only supports 1 quidditch team)
Eliza Barry- very into whats proper and whats not. Probably came from an old family and met her future husband at school
William Barry- man definitely gives of Slytherin vibes. Also is a Barry.
Rachel Lynde- I don’t think this one needs an explanation
Josie Pye- I mean just look at her motives for doing things and I think you can understand (agian I’m not trying to put the villains in Slytherin because of negative stereotypes. I just do think she’s a Slytherin)
Jane Andrews- she may be a lesbian, but she is also an Andrews and therefore a sytherin
Nathanial- this guy was in Slytherin before he was kicked out of hogwarts.
💜Squib💜
Mr. Phillips-I don’t know how to explain that he gives off squib vibes
Mr. Dunlop- my theory here is that Nathaniel kinda manipulated him into doing his evil plan. They both kinda bonded over the fact that the wizarding world had disowned them.
The end! (Ignore all the spelling and grammar errors)
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ooo-yeah-baby · 8 months
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hello again! 🫶🏻 i keep rereading parts 1 & 2 of lovely because they’re SO amazing and i was wondering if i could request a part 3? it would probably be the last part, but i was thinking it could be a flash-forward a few years to Moody and reader being back in Avonlea after college, Moody working and reader being a housewife, (reluctantly, but now realizing she has to accept her fate.) maybe they have a couple kids already and she’s already pregnant with another, Moody is overjoyed and the lifestyle is slowly growing on her, too. stockholm syndrome is setting in. honestly feel free to write whatever you’d like and change any details! you can make it however dark you’d like (but still sfw of course!) thank you so so much! ❤️
Lovely, pt3
Yandere Moody Spurgeon x reader
I only do sfw, feel free to send requests, I did not proof read at all and it's kinda short. I hope you enjoy !!
"MOTHER!" Y/N could hear her daughter cry from the porch. Quickly, she ran through the house and pushed open the door to see the little girl stuck in the flower bush that lined the porch. Her legs were kicking abover her head. 
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"Calm down." Y/N sighed, pulling the girl up and out of the bush. She was the spitting image of her father. Brown hair framing her round face and long eyelashes framing blue eyes. She had her mother's nose but that was pretty much it. 
Y/N cradled her child in her arms, checking hers for any cuts, thankfully she was okay, but her dress was dirty. 
"Be more careful, okay?" After putting her back down, she kissed her forehead and lead her inside to change clothes, no way she could let her run around covered in filth. "You look like you've been playing in a pig pen. Where were you?" 
"I was with Rilla. We decided to take the long way home. I'm sorry, mother."
"That's fine, sweet heart." Y/N said, pulling her dress off of her and throwing it to the bed, then she turned to get a new dress from one of the assortment of drawers. "Do you know where your brother is?" 
"He said he was staying late for extra lessons." 
Y/N's son on the other hand looked more like herself. Not a trace of Moody, her husband, lingered on him. 
Of course this in no way affected the way she felt about her children. They were the lights in her life. 
She became pregnant for the first time shortly after moving back to Avonlea from Queens College. Moody had begged and pleaded for the last few months of their school careers for children and with the added pressure from the families Y/N finally caved. 
But she enjoyed motherhood and even though she hates to admit it, she enjoys the days where she can spend time with her family. 
"Well let's hope he's home in time for dinner this time." Y/N pulled out a little dress and slipped it over her daughter's frame, brushing the hair from her face once it was fully on.
Later that night, after everyone had arrived back home, the family joined hands in prayer. Before, maybe towards the beginning of the marriage, Y/N would pray to herself that she might wake up in her childhood home, her mother and father would be just down the hall if she needed them and she could sit and listen to Moody play his music during break before joining the other girls. Although now she looks back on those moments fondly, she doesn't pray to wake up. It's almost as if she had become happy with her life. 
After dinner, Moody and Y/N went up to tuck their kids in together. It was nice spending those short moments together. Moody would stand in the doorway, watching as Y/N pulled the blanket over each of the children's shoulders and kissed their foreheads. After all these years he still loved her and as time went on the guilt he felt about the entirety of their relationship faded. 
Although he secretly prayed every night that she'd forgive him. Although she seemed happy now he couldn't ever be sure. She didn't pull away from him but was that just because she felt like she had to? She stopped avoiding him but then again it'd be difficult even if she wanted to. 
He was ridden with doubt about their relationship. 
Once they finished tucking in their children the two went to their own bedroom to sleep for the night. Moody wrapped hisarms around Y/N which she reciprocated sweetly, then began to drift off to sleep. 
"Moody?" Y/N called his name, waking him, his heart skipping a beat. 
"Yes Y/N," His voice was shakey and his grip on her became tighter. Usually they'd quietly come into the bedroom and fall asleep together. Why was she speaking? What did she have to say? 
"You don't play very often anymore, do you? Your banjo, I mean." It struck him. He hadnt played in a while. 
"Do you want me to start again?" 
"Yeah. You were good. I miss it." She snuggled closer to him. 
Wow. 
"Y/N?" Moody spoke. 
"Yes, Moody?" 
"Can we have another?"
"Another what?" 
"Kid?" Moody held his breath. Y/N was silent for a moment.
"If you promise to play your banjo every morning, then yes." 
He wondered if Y/N could feel his heart beating out of his chest. 
"I promise, Y/N." A smile grew on his face as he pulled her closer. 
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crescentcampbell · 4 years
Text
I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings
Gilbert Blythe was finally going to propose to his longtime girlfriend, Winnie Rose. They’d been together since freshman year, when they’d met in class after he’d borrowed a pen from her. The trouble was, he couldn’t find the ring that he’d gotten anywhere.
“Spurgeon!” Gilbert called out for his roommate.
They lived in an off-campus apartment the two of them shared. Both going to med school, the two had decided they wanted some place away from the booze and bongs on campus. When Gilbert’s Dad had passed away sophomore year, it had left him with the money to do it. The only good thing to come of an unfortunate situation.
“What?” Moody groaned from his bedroom.
Gilbert stormed in, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’s the ring, man?”
Moody grinned. “What ring? You mean the engagement ring that you’ve been hiding all month?”
He frowned. “Yes, that ring Spurgeon. Where is it?”
Moody sat up in bed and shrugged innocently. “No idea. Ruby, love, you got any idea where Gilberts ring is?” x
Ruby Gillis, Moody’s long-time girlfriend, groaned from where she was asleep next to him. Thankfully wearing pink stripped pajamas. Gilbert had accidentally walked in on them canoodaling more times then he cared to admit.
“Oh, Winnie’s ring?” she said.
“Yes,” said Gilbert frowning, “it was in my dresser drawer, and I’ve got no idea where it is now.”
“Bad place to hide a ring, Gil,” she said with mischief in her eyes, “but no, I haven’t seen it anywhere. You should call Anne to look for it. She’s good at this sort of thing.”
At the mention of his best friend Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, Gilbert glared at Ruby. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew very well how Moody and Ruby both felt about Winnie. They liked her well enough, but in their minds, he was still that moody love-struck boy from Avonlea who had been in love with Anne most of his life.
But what they didn’t understand was, it was Anne who had encouraged him to date Winnie in the first place. It was Anne who had helped him pick out the ring. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert had a mind of her own, one that had never thought of Gilbert as anything other than a friend and would never think of him as anything else.
Gilbert glowered at Ruby. “Ruby Gillis, if I find out you took that ring, I will personally donate all of those expensive purses you have to Good Will in the middle of the night.”
Ruby gasped. The fashion major looked slightly horrified. “You wouldn’t.”
“Including the Prada,” he threatened.
She had lived with them for the better part of last year, and Gilbert knew how much she adored those purses. They were her prized collection.
Huffing, Ruby reluctantly crawled over Moody and got up out of bed. She went to the bathroom, rummaged through what appeared to be her makeup bag, and pulled out a blue, velvet box with his Mother’s ring in it. Sulking, she walked over and handed to him.
“You’re making a mistake,” she said, putting it into Gilbert’s outstretched hand.
“Well, it’s mine to make,” he said firmly.  “Besides, you guys are both wrong. There’s nothing between Anne and me. We’ve always just been friends, and it took a really, long time for us to get there. So please, don’t ruin this by making it weird, alright? I’m marrying Winnie. Besides, Anne’s happy with Roy. You like Roy. We all like Roy.”
Moody and Ruby exchanged glances with each other, something that made Gilbert falter a little.
“We do still all like Roy, right?” he said, his voice getting hard. “Did that pretentious frat boy do something to Anne?”
Moody coughed. “Ruby, come on. She told us not to tell.”
“But it’s Anne!” Ruby insisted, pouting a little.
Gilbert placed both hands on her shoulders and made her face him. “Come on Ruby don’t forget. I know where the Prada lives. Tell me what happened with Anne and Roy, or else the purses get it!”
The rich girl frowned. “You said you wouldn’t if I gave you the ring back!”
“Now I’m changing things,” he said.
“They broke up!” Ruby blurted.
Gilbert stared, certain that he’d heard wrong. “They broke up?”
Ruby nodded helplessly.
“Are you sure?”
Ruby went over to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. She showed him the text messages from Anne.
Ruby: Hey! Missed you in class. Where were you?
Anne: Broke up w Roy.:(
Ruby: Oh no! What happened?
Anne: Had a talk about the future. Two different directions.  Not feeling up to class. See you at party.
Gilbert stared at the phone, in shock. Anne was friendly, smart, with freckles and beautiful red hair. In high school, they’d been rivals, always competing academically for something and they hadn’t really become friends until their senior year.  
But Anne was single.
She was single, and she didn’t hate his guts, which was the really, really important thing. He gripped the ring in his hand. It suddenly felt extremely heavy.
“Alright there, Gil?” Moody asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah…. I’m fine. Completely fine.” He took the ring back with him. It didn’t mean anything.  They had one more week left of school, then they’d graduate. He was going to New York for med school. Columbia. He’d already gotten in.
As far as he knew, Anne had gotten in for their journalism grad school. They’d be in New York together, and she’d be single.
Gilbert suddenly found himself uncertain about absolutely everything, and that wasn’t something that normally happened for him.
“Excuse me,” he said, and he went off to his room.
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futurewriter2000 · 5 years
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Heyy! I saw your post about writing for Anne With An E and I’m super happy! I had no idea you liked it too! I’d love a Moody Spurgeon x Reader about literarily anything, but something about when they’re in the woods and he falls or she helps him would be awesome! Thank you so much!
YES! I LOVE MOODY! Bc hes so clubsy and innocent and good and just dorky 💜 you gotta love that boy.
Now i gotta watch the new episode
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thejoydaily-blog · 6 years
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Charles Spurgeon: Preaching Through Adversity
Charles Spurgeon: Preaching Through Adversity1995 Bethlehem Conference for Pastors
Resource by John Piper
Topics: Depression, Biography
A Personal Introduction
My topic this year is “Preaching through Adversity,” and the man I focus on is Charles Haddon Spurgeon, who died on this day 103 years ago at the age of 57 after preaching for 38 years at the Metropolitan Tabernacle in London. There are very personal reasons why I chose this topic and this man for this year’s biographical study. Everyone faces adversity and must find ways to persevere through the oppressing moments of life. Everyone must get up and make breakfast, and wash clothes, and go to work, and pay bills, and discipline children and generally keep life going when the heart is breaking.
But it’s different with pastors — not totally different, but different. The heart is the instrument of our vocation. Spurgeon said, “Ours is more than mental work — it is heart work, the labour of our inmost soul” (Spurgeon, Lectures to My Students, [Zondervan Publishing House, 1972], 156). So when our heart is breaking we must labor with a broken instrument. Preaching is our main work. And preaching is heart work, not just mental work. So the question for us is not just How you keep on living when the marriage is blank, and a child has run away, and the finances don’t reach, and pews are bare and friends have forsaken you; the question for us is more than, How do you keep on living?It’s, How do you keep on preaching? It’s one thing to survive adversity; it is something very different to keep on preaching, Sunday after Sunday, month after month when the heart is overwhelmed.
Spurgeon said to the students of his pastors’ college, “One crushing stroke has sometimes laid the minister very low. The brother most relied upon becomes a traitor ... Ten years of toil do not take so much life out of us as we lose in a few hours by Ahithophel the traitor, or Demas the apostate” (Ibid., 16). The question for us is not, How do you live through unremitting criticism and distrust and accusation and abandonment; for us the question is also, How do you preach through it? How do you do heart work when the heart is under siege and ready to fall?
For just over a year now that has been perhaps the uppermost question of my life. And, if I am not mistaken, I believe it is now, or will be, uppermost for many of you as well. Just last Sunday night I spent a half-hour on the phone with the wife of a pastor who would love to be here. He is under so much criticism and accusation that she found it hard to go to church and marveled that he could preach last Sunday morning — and I know this is a pure and faithful servant whose church I would gladly attend for the sake of my soul.
Preaching great and glorious truth in an atmosphere that is not great and glorious is an immense difficulty. To be reminded week in and week out that many people regard your preaching of the glory of the grace of God as hypocrisy pushes a preacher not just into the hills of introspection, but sometimes to the precipice of self-extinction.
I don’t mean suicide. I mean something more complex. I mean the deranging inability to know any longer who you are. What begins as a searching introspection for the sake of holiness, and humility gradually becomes, for various reasons, a carnival of mirrors in your soul: you look in one and you’re short and fat; you look in another and you’re tall and skinny; you look in another and you’re upside down. And the horrible feeling begins to break over you that you don’t know who you are any more. The center is not holding. And if the center doesn’t hold — if there is no fixed and solid “I” able to relate to the fixed and solid “Thou,” namely, God, then who will preach next Sunday?
When the apostle Paul said in 1 Corinthians 15:10, “By the grace of God, I am what I am,” he was saying something utterly essential for the survival of preachers in adversity. If, by grace, the identity of the “I” — the “I” created by Christ and united to Christ, but still a human “I” — if that center doesn’t hold, there will be no more authentic preaching, for there will be no more authentic preacher, but a collection of echoes.
Oh how fortunate we are, brothers of the pulpit, that we are not the first to face these things! I thank God for the healing history of the power of God in the lives of saints. I urge you for the sake of your own survival: live in other centuries and other saints.
Why Spurgeon?
I have turned to Charles Spurgeon in these days, and I have been helped. And that’s what I want to share with you this afternoon. My aim is to give you strength to keep on preaching through adversity.
1. Charles Spurgeon was a preacher.
He preached over 600 times before he was twenty years old. His sermons sold about 20,000 copies a week and were translated into twenty languages. The collected sermons fill 63 volumes equivalent to the 27 volume ninth edition of Encyclopedia Britannica, and “stands” as the largest set of books by a single author in the history of Christianity” (Eric Hayden, “Did You Know?” in Christian History, Issue 29, Volume X, No. 1, 2).
Even if his son Charles was biased his assessment is close enough to the truth, “There was no one who could preach like my father. In inexhaustible variety, witty wisdom, vigorous proclamation, loving entreaty, and lucid teaching, with a multitude of other qualities, he must, at least in my opinion, ever be regarded as the prince of preachers” (Spurgeon: Autobiography, vol. 2, [The Banner of Truth Trust, 1973), 278]. Spurgeon was a preacher.
2. He was a truth-driven preacher.
I am not interested in how preachers deal with adversity if they are not first and foremost guardians and givers of unchanging Biblical truth. If they find their way through adversity by other means than faithfulness to truth, I turn away.
Spurgeon defined the work of the preacher like this: “To know truth as it should be known, to love it as it should be loved, and then to proclaim it in the right spirit, and in its proper proportions” (Spurgeon, An All Round Ministry, [The Banner of Truth Trust, 1960], 8). He said to his students, “To be effective preachers you must be sound theologians” (Ibid., 8). He warned that “those who do away with Christian doctrine are, whether they are aware of it or not, the worst enemies of Christian living ... [because] the coals of orthodoxy are necessary to the fire of piety” (Erroll Hulse and David Kingdon, eds., A Marvelous Ministry: How the All-round Ministry of Charles Haddon Spurgeon Speaks to us Today, [Soli Deo Gloria Publications, 1993], 128).
Two years before he died he said,
Some excellent brethren seem to think more of the life than of the truth; for when I warn them that the enemy has poisoned the children’s bread, they answer “Dear brother, we are sorry to hear it; and, to counteract the evil, we will open the window, and give the children fresh air.” Yes, open the window, and give them fresh air, by all means ... But, at the same time, this ought you to have done, and not to have left the other undone. Arrest the poisoners, and open the windows, too. While men go on preaching false doctrine, you may talk as much as you will about deepening their spiritual life, but you will fail in it.” (An All Round Ministry, 374)
Doctrinal truth was at the foundation and superstructure of all Spurgeon’s labors.
3. He was a Bible-believing preacher.
The truth that drove his preaching ministry was Biblical truth, which he believed to be God’s truth. He held up his Bible and said,
These words are God’s . . . Thou book of vast authority, thou art a proclamation from the Emperor of Heaven; far be it from me to exercise my reason in contradicting thee . . . This is the book untainted by any error; but it is pure unalloyed, perfect truth. Why? Because God wrote it. (A Marvelous Ministry, 47)
What a difference where this allegiance holds sway in the hearts of preachers and people. I had lunch with a man recently who bemoaned the atmosphere of his Sunday school class. He characterized it like this: if a person raises a question to discuss, and another reads a relevant Bible verse, the class communicates, “Now we have heard what Jesus thinks, what do you think?”
Where that atmosphere begins to take over the pulpit and the church, defection from truth and weakness in holiness are not far behind.
4. He was a soul-winning preacher.
There was not a week that went by in his mature ministry that souls were not saved through his written sermons (Arnold Dallimore, Spurgeon, [Moody Press, 1984], 198). He and his elders were always on the “watch for souls” in the great congregation. “One brother,” he said, “has earned for himself the title of my hunting dog, for he is always ready to pick up the wounded birds” (Autobiography, vol. 2, 76).
Spurgeon was not exaggerating when he said,
I remember, when I have preached at different times in the country, and sometimes here, that my whole soul has agonized over men, every nerve of my body has been strained and I could have wept my very being out of my eyes and carried my whole frame away in a flood of tears, if I could but win souls.” (A Marvelous Ministry, 49–50)
He was consumed with the glory of God and the salvation of men.
5. He was a Calvinistic preacher.
He was my kind of Calvinist. Let me give you a flavor of why his Calvinismdrew 5,000 people a week to his church rather than driving them away. He said,
To me, Calvinism means the placing of the eternal God at the head of all things. I look at everything through its relation to God’s glory. I see God first, and man far down in the list . . . Brethren, if we live in sympathy with God, we delight to hear Him say, ‘I am God, and there is none else.’ (An All Round Ministry, 337)
For Spurgeon “Puritanism, Protestantism, Calvinism [were simply] ... poor names which the world has given to our great and glorious faith, — the doctrine of Paul the apostle, the gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ” (Ibid., 160).
But he did make distinctions between the full system, which he did embrace, and some central, evangelical doctrines shared by others that bound him together with them — like his favorite, the doctrine of the substitution of Christ for sinners. He said, “Far be it for me to imagine that Zion contains none but Calvinistic Christians within her walls, or that there are none saved who do not hold our views” (A Marvelous Ministry, 65).
He said, “I am not an outrageous Protestant generally, and I rejoice to confess that I feel sure there are some of God’s people even in the Romish Church” (Autobiography, vol. 2, 21). He chose a paedobaptist to be the first head of his pastor’s college, and did not make that issue a barrier to who preached in his pulpit. His communion was open to all Christians, but he said he “would rather give up his pastorate than admit any man to the church who was not obedient to his Lord’s command [of baptism]” (A Marvelous Ministry, 43).
His first words in the Metropolitan Tabernacle, the place he built to preach in for thirty years:
I would propose that the subject of the ministry in this house, as long as this platform shall stand and as long as this house shall be frequented by worshippers, shall be the person of Jesus Christ. I am never ashamed to avow myself a Calvinist; I do not hesitate to take the name of Baptist; but if I am asked what is my creed, I reply, “It is Jesus Christ.” (Bob Ross, A Pictorial Biography of C.H. Spurgeon, [Pilgrim Publications, 1974], 66)
But he believed that Calvinism honored that Christ most fully because it was most true. And he preached it explicitly, and tried to work it into the minds of his people, because he said, “Calvinism has in it a conservative force which helps to hold men to vital truth” (A Marvelous Ministry, 121).
Therefore he was open and unashamed: “People come to me for one thing ... I preach to them a Calvinist creed and a Puritan morality. That is what they want and that is what they get. If they want anything else they must go elsewhere” (Ibid., 38).
6. He was a hard-working preacher.
I do not look to soft and leisurely men to instruct me how to endure adversity. If the main answer is, “Take it easy,” I look for another teacher. Take a glimpse of this man’s capacity for work:
No one living knows the toil and care I have to bear . . . I have to look after the Orphanage, have charge of a church with four thousand members, sometimes there are marriages and burials to be undertaken, there is the weekly sermon to be revised, The Sword and the Trowel to be edited, and besides all that, a weekly average of five hundred letters to be answered. This, however, is only half my duty, for there are innumerable churches established by friends, with the affairs of which I am closely connected, to say nothing of the cases of difficulty which are constantly being referred to me.” (Autobiography, vol. 2,192)
At his fiftieth birthday a list of 66 organizations was read that he founded and conducted. Lord Shaftesbury was there and said, “This list of associations, instituted by his genius, and superintended by his care, were more than enough to occupy the minds and hearts of fifty ordinary men” (Dallimore, Spurgeon, 173).
He typically read six substantial books a week and could remember what he read and where to find it (“Did You Know?”, 2). He produced more than 140 books of his own — books like The Treasury of David, which was twenty years in the making, and Morning and Evening, and Commenting on Commentaries, and John Ploughman’s Talk, and Our Own Hymnbook (Dallimore, Spurgeon, 195).
He often worked eighteen hours in a day. The missionary David Livingstone, asked him once, “How do you manage to do two men’s work in a single day? Spurgeon replied, “You have forgotten there are two of us” (“Did You Know?”, 3). I think he meant the presence of Christ’s energizing power that we read about in Colossians 1:29. Paul says, “I labor, striving according to His power, which mightily works within me.” “There are two of us.”
Spurgeon’s attitude toward sacrificial labor would not be acceptable today where the primacy of “wellness” seems to hold sway. He said,
If by excessive labour, we die before reaching the average age of man, worn out in the Master’s service, then glory be to God, we shall have so much less of earth and so much more of Heaven!” (An All Round Ministry, 126–127).
It is our duty and our privilege to exhaust our lives for Jesus. We are not to be living specimens of men in fine preservation, but living sacrifices, whose lot is to be consumed.” (Spurgeon, Lectures to My Students,157)
Behind this radical viewpoint were some deep Biblical convictions that come through the apostle Paul’s teaching. One of these convictions Spurgeon expressed like this:
We can only produce life in others by the wear and tear of our own being. This is a natural and spiritual law, — that fruit can only come to the seed by its spending and be spent even to self-exhaustion.” (An All Round Ministry, 177)
The apostle Paul said, “If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation” (2 Corinthians 1:6). “Death works in us, but life in you” (2 Corinthians 4:12). And he said that his own sufferings were the completion of Christ’s sufferings for the sake of the church (Colossians 1:24).
Another Biblical conviction behind Spurgeon’s radical view of pastoral zeal is expressed like this:
Satisfaction with results will be the [death] knell of progress. No man is good who thinks that he cannot be better. He has no holiness who thinks that he is holy enough.” (Ibid., 352)
In other words he was driven with a passion never to be satisfied with the measure of his holiness or the extent of his service (see also Philippians 3:12). The year he turned forty he delivered a message to his pastors’ conference with the one-word title, “Forward!” (Ibid., 32–58). In it he said,
In every minister’s life there should be traces of stern labour. Brethren, do something; do something; DO SOMETHING. While Committees waste their time over resolutions, do something. While Societies and Unions are making constitutions, let us win souls. Too often we discuss, and discuss, and discuss, while Satan only laughs in his sleeve . . . Get to work and quit yourselves like men.” (Ibid., 55)
I think the word “indefatigable” was created for people like Charles Spurgeon.
7. He was a maligned and suffering preacher.
He knew the whole range of adversity that most preachers suffer — and a lot more.
He knew the everyday, homegrown variety of frustration and disappointment from lukewarm members.
You know what one coldhearted man can do, if he gets at you on Sunday morning with a lump of ice, and freezes you with the information that Mrs. Smith and all her family are offended, and their pew is vacant. You did not want to know of that Lady’s protest just before entering the pulpit, and it does not help you. (Ibid., 358)
Or perhaps even worse, after the service it can happen.
What terrible blankets some professors are! Their remarks after a sermon are enough to stagger you ... You have been pleading as for life or death and they have been calculating how many seconds the sermon occupied, and grudging you the odd five minutes beyond the usual hour. (Students, 310) It’s even worse he says if the calculating observer is one of your deacons.
Thou shalt not yoke the ox and the ass together was a merciful precept: but when a laborious, ox-like minister comes to be yoked to a deacon who is not another ox, it becomes hard work to plough. (Ibid., 311)
He also knew the extraordinary calamities that befall us once in a lifetime.
On October 19, 1856 he preached for the first time in the Music Hall of the Royal Surrey Gardens because his own church would not hold the people. The 10,000 seating capacity was far exceeded as the crowds pressed in. Someone shouted, “Fire!” and there was great panic in parts of the building. Seven people were killed in the stampede and scores were injured.
Spurgeon was twenty-two years old and was overcome by this calamity. He said later, “Perhaps never soul went so near the burning furnace of insanity, and yet came away unharmed.” But not all agreed he was unharmed. The specter so brooked over him for years, and one close friend and biographer said, “I cannot but think, from what I saw, that his comparatively early death might be in some measure due to the furnace of mental suffering he endured on and after that fearful night” (Darrel Amundsen, “The Anguish and Agonies of Charles Spurgeon,” in: Christian History, Issue 29, Volume X, No. 1, 23).
Spurgeon also knew the adversity of family pain.
He had married Susannah Thomson January 8 in the same year of the calamity at Surrey Gardens. His only two children, twin sons were born the day after the calamity on October 20. Susannah was never able to have more children. In 1865 (nine years later), when she was 33 years old she became a virtual invalid and seldom heard her husband preach for the next 27 years till his death. Some kind of rare cervical operations was attempted in 1869 by James Simpson, the father of modern gynecology, but to no avail (A Marvelous Ministry, 38–39). So to Spurgeon’s other burdens was added a sickly wife and the inability to have more children, though his own mother had given birth to seventeen children.
Spurgeon knew unbelievable physical suffering.
He suffered from gout, rheumatism and Bright’s disease (inflammation of the kidneys). His first attack of gout came in 1869 at the age of 35. It became progressively worse so that “approximately one third of the last twenty-two years of his ministry was spent out of the Tabernacle pulpit, either suffering, or convalescing, or taking precautions against the return of illness” (Iain Murray, Letters of Charles Haddon Spurgeon, [The Banner of Truth Trust, 1992],166). In a letter to a friend he wrote, “Lucian says, ‘I thought a cobra had bitten me, and filled my veins with poison; but it was worse, — it was gout.’ That was written from experience, I know” (Ibid., 165).
So for over half his ministry Spurgeon dealt with ever increasingly recurrent pain [such as in] his joints that cut him down from the pulpit and from his labors again and again, until the diseases took his life at age 57 where he was convalescing in Mentone, France.
On top of the physical suffering, Spurgeon had to endure a lifetime of public ridicule and slander, sometimes of the most vicious kind.
In April, 1855 the Essex Standard carried an article with these words:
His style is that of the vulgar colloquial, varied by rant ... All the most solemn mysteries of our holy religion are by him rudely, roughly and impiously handled. Common sense is outraged and decency disgusted. His rantings are interspersed with coarse anecdotes.” (Ministry, 35)
The Sheffield and Rotherham Independent said,
He is a nine days’ wonder — a comet that has suddenly shot across the religious atmosphere. He has gone up like a rocket and ere long will come down like a stick.” (Ibid)
His wife kept a bulging scrapbook of such criticisms from the years 1855-1856. Some of it was easy to brush off. Most of it wasn’t. In 1857 he wrote:
Down on my knees have I often fallen, with the hot sweat rising from my brow under some fresh slander poured upon me; in an agony of grief my heart has been well-nigh broken.” (“The Anguish and Agonies of Charles Spurgeon,” 23)
His fellow ministers criticized from the right and from the left. Across town from the left Joseph Parker wrote,
Mr. Spurgeon was absolutely destitute of intellectual benevolence. If men saw as he did they were orthodox; if they saw things in some other way they were heterodox, pestilent and unfit to lead the minds of students or inquirers. Mr. Spurgeon’s was a superlative egotism; not the shilly-shallying, timid, half-disguised egotism that cuts off its own head, but the full-grown, over-powering, sublime egotism that takes the chief seat as if by right. The only colors which Mr. Spurgeon recognized were black and white.” (Ministry, 69)
And from the right James Wells, the hyper-Calvinist, wrote, “I have — most solemnly have — my doubts as the Divine reality of his conversion” (Ibid., 35).
All the embattlements of his life came to climax in the Downgrade Controversy as Spurgeon fought unsuccessfully for the doctrinal integrity of the Baptist Union. In October 1887 he withdrew from the Union. And the following January he was officially and publicly censured by a vote of the Union for his manner of protest (Ibid., 126).
Eight years earlier he had said,
Men cannot say anything worse of me than they have said. I have been belied from head to foot, and misrepresented to the last degree. My good looks are gone, and none can damage me much now.” (An All Round Ministry, 159)
He gives an example of the kinds of distortions and misrepresentations that were typical in the Downgrade controversy:
The doctrine of eternal punishment has been scarcely raised by me in this controversy; but the ‘modern thought’ advocates continue to hold it up on all occasions, all the while turning the wrong side of it outwards.” (Ibid., 288)
But even though he usually sounded rough and ready, the pain was overwhelming and deadly. In May of 1891 eight months before he died he said to a friend, “Good-bye; you will never see me again. This fight is killing me” (“The Anguish and Agonies of Charles Spurgeon,” 25).
The final adversity I mention is the result of the others — Spurgeon’s recurrent battles with depression.
It is not easy to imagine the omni-competent, eloquent, brilliant, full-of-energy Spurgeon weeping like a baby for no reason that he could think of. In 1858, at age twenty-four it happened for the first time. He said, “My spirits were sunken so low that I could weep by the hour like a child, and yet I knew not what I wept for (Ibid., 24).
Causeless depression cannot be reasoned with, nor can David’s harp charm it away by sweet discoursings. As well fight with the mist as with this shapeless, undefinable, yet all-beclouding hopelessness ... The iron bolt which so mysteriously fastens the door of hope and holds our spirits in gloomy prison, needs a heavenly hand to push it back. (Students, 163)
He saw his depression as his “worst feature.” “Despondency,” he said, “is not a virtue; I believe it is a vice. I am heartily ashamed of myself for falling into it, but I am sure there is no remedy for it like a holy faith in God” (“The Anguish and Agonies of Charles Spurgeon,” 24).
In spite of all these sufferings and persecutions Spurgeon endured to the end, and was able to preach mightily until his last sermon at the Tabernacle on June 7, 1891. So the question I have asked in reading this man’s life and work is,
How Did He Persevere and Preach Through This Adversity?
Oh, how many strategies of grace abound in the life of Spurgeon. My choices are very limited and personal. The scope of this man’s warfare, and the wisdom of his strategies were immense. Our time is short and we must be very selective. I begin with the issue of despondency and depression. If this one can be conquered, all the other forms of adversity that feet into it, will be nullified in their killing effect.
1. Spurgeon saw his depression as the design of God for the good of his ministry and the glory of Christ.
What comes through again and again is Spurgeon’s unwavering belief in the sovereignty of God in all his afflictions. More than anything else it seems, this kept him from caving in to the adversities of his life. He said,
It would be a very sharp and trying experience to me to think that I have an affliction which God never sent me, that the bitter cup was never filled by his hand, that my trials were never measured out by him, nor sent to me by his arrangement of their weight and quantity.” (Ibid., 25)
This is exactly the opposite strategy of modern thought, even much evangelical thought, that recoils from the implications of infinity. If God is God he not only knows what is coming, but he knows it because he designs it. For Spurgeon this view of God was not first argument for debate, it was a means of survival.
Our afflictions are the health regimen of an infinitely wise Physician. He told his students,
I dare say the greatest earthly blessing that God can give to any of us is health, with the exception of sickness . . . If some men, that I know of could only be favoured with a month of rheumatism, it would, by God’s grace mellow them marvelously.” (An All Round Ministry, 384)
He meant this mainly for himself. Though he dreaded suffering and would willingly avoid it, he said,
I am afraid that all the grace that I have got of my comfortable and easy times and happy hours, might almost lie on a penny. But the good that I have received from my sorrows, and pains, and griefs, is altogether incalculable ... Affliction is the best bit of furniture in my house. It is the best book in a minister’s library. (“The Anguish and Agonies of Charles Spurgeon,” 25)
He saw three specific purposes of God in his struggle with depression. The first is that it functioned like the apostle Paul’s thorn to keep him humble lest he be lifted up in himself. He said the Lord’s work is summed up in these words:
‘Not by might nor by power but by my Spirit, saith the Lord.’ Instruments shall be used, but their intrinsic weakness shall be clearly manifested; there shall be no division of the glory, no diminishing of the honor due to the Great Worker ... Those who are honoured of their Lord in public have usually to endure a secret chastening, or to carry a peculiar cross, lest by any means they exalt themselves, and fall into the snare of the devil.” (Ibid., 163–164)
The second purpose of God in his despondency was the unexpected power it gave to his ministry:
One Sabbath morning, I preached from the text, ‘My God, My God, why has Thou forsaken Me?’ and though I did not say so, yet I preached my own experience. I heard my own chains clank while I tried to preach to my fellow-prisoners in the dark; but I could not tell why I was brought into such an awful horror of darkness, for which I condemned myself. On the following Monday evening, a man came to see me who bore all the marks of despair upon his countenance. His hair seemed to stand up right, and his eyes were ready to start from their sockets. He said to me, after a little parleying, ‘I never before, in my life, heard any man speak who seemed to know my heart. Mine is a terrible case; but on Sunday morning you painted me to the life, and preached as if you had been inside my soul.’ By God’s grace I saved that man from suicide, and led him into gospel light and liberty; but I know I could not have done it if I had not myself been confined in the dungeon in which he lay. I tell you the story, brethren, because you sometimes may not understand your own experience, and the perfect people may condemn you for having it; but what know they of God’s servants? You and I have to suffer much for the sake of the people of our charge ... You may be in Egyptian darkness, and you may wonder why such a horror chills your marrow; but you may be altogether in the pursuit of your calling, and be led of the Spirit to a position of sympathy with desponding minds. (An All Round Ministry, 221–222)
The third design of his depression was what he called a prophetic signal for the future. This has given me much encouragement in my own situation.
This depression comes over me whenever the Lord is preparing a larger blessing for my ministry; the cloud is black before it breaks, and overshadows before it yields its deluge of mercy. Depression has now become to me as a prophet in rough clothing, a John the Baptist, heralding the nearer coming of my Lord’s richer benison. (Students, 160)
I would say with Spurgeon that in the darkest hours it is the sovereign goodness of God that has given me the strength to go on — the granite promise that he rules over my circumstances and means it for good no matter what anyone else means.
2. Very practically Spurgeon supplements his theological survival strategy with God’s natural means of survival – his use of rest and nature.
For all his talk about spending and being spent, he counsels us to rest and take a day off and open ourselves to the healing powers God has put in the world of nature.
“Our Sabbath is our day of toil,” he said, “and if we do not rest upon some other day we shall break down” (Ibid.). Eric Hayden reminds us that Spurgeon “kept, when possible, Wednesday as his day of rest” (Hayden, Highlights in the life of C.H. Spurgeon, [Pilgrim Publications, 1990], 103). More than that Spurgeon said to his students,
It is wisdom to take occasional furlough. In the long run, we shall do more by sometimes doing less. On, on, on for ever, without recreation may suit spirits emancipated from this ‘heavy clay’, but while we are in this tabernacle, we must every now and then cry halt, and serve the Lord by holy inaction and consecrated leisure. Let no tender conscience doubt the lawfulness of going out of harness for a while. (Students, 161)
I can testify that the four extra weeks that the church gave me last summer were crucial weeks in breathing a different spiritual air.
And when we take time away from the press of duty, Spurgeon recommends that we breathe country air and let the beauty of nature do its appointed work. He confesses that “sedentary habits have tendency to create despondency ... especially in the months of fog.” And then counsels, “A mouthful of sea air, or a stiff walk in the wind’s face would not give grace to the soul, but it would yield oxygen to the body, which is next best” (Ibid., 158).
A personal word to you younger men. I am finishing my fifteenth year at Bethlehem and I just celebrated my 49th birthday. I have watched my body and my soul with some care over these years and noticed some changes. They are partly owing to changing circumstances, but much is owning to a changing constitution. One, I cannot eat as much without gaining unhelpful weight. My body does not metabolize the same way it used to.
Another is that I am emotionally less resilient when I lose sleep. There were early days when I would work without regard to sleep and feel energized and motivated. In the last seven or eight years my threshold for despondency is much lower. For me, adequate sleep is not a matter of staying healthy. It is a matter of staying in the ministry. It is irrational that my future should look bleaker when I get four or five hours sleep several nights in a row. But that is irrelevant. Those are the facts. And I must live within the limits of facts. I commend sufficient sleep to you, for the sake of your proper assessment of God and his promises.
Spurgeon was right when he said,
The condition of your body must be attended to ... a little more ... common sense would be a great gain to some who are ultra spiritual, and attribute all their moods of feeling to some supernatural cause when the real reason lies far nearer to hand. Has it not often happened that dyspepsia has been mistaken for backsliding, and bad digestion has been set down as a hard heart?” (Ibid., 312)
3. Spurgeon consistently nourished his soul by communion with Christ through prayer and meditation.
It was a great mercy to me as I entered this past year that I had just prepared the lecture on John Owen for this conference and had discovered his book Communion with God. Perhaps more than any other, that book nourished me again and again the soul asked, “Can God spread a table in the wilderness?”
Spurgeon warned his students,
Never neglect your spiritual meals, or you will lack stamina and your spirits will sink. Live on the substantial doctrines of grace, and you will outlive and out-work those who delight in the pastry and syllabubs of ‘modern thought.’ (Ibid., 310)
I think one of the reasons Spurgeon was so rich in language and full in doctrinal substance and strong in the spirit, in spite of his despondency and his physical oppression and his embattlements, is that he was always immersed in a great book — six a week. We cannot match that number. But we can always be walking with some great “see-er” of God. I walked with Owen most of the year on and off little by little and felt myself strengthened by a great grasp of God’s reality.
And Spurgeon came in along side this reading, saying and showing the same thing, namely, that the key in all good reading of theology is utterly real fellowship with Christ.
Above all, feed the flame with intimate fellowship with Christ. No man was every cold in heart who lived with Jesus on such terms as John and Mary did of old ... I never met with a half-hearted preacher who was much in communion with the Lord Jesus. (Ibid., 315)
In many ways Spurgeon was a child in his communion with God. He did not speak in complex terms about anything too strange or mystical. In fact his prayer life seems more business-like than contemplative.
When I pray, I like to go to God just as I go to a bank clerk when I have cheque to be cashed. I walk in, put the cheque down on the counter, and the clerk gives me my money, I take it up, and go about my business. I do not know that I ever stopped in a bank five minutes to talk with the clerks; when I have received my change I go away and attend to other matters. That is how I like to pray; but there is a way of praying that seems like lounging near the mercy seat as though one had no particular reason for being found there. (Ministry, 46–47)
This may not be entirely exemplary. It may dishonor the Lord to treat him like a bank clerk rather than like a mountain spring. But we would make a mistake if we thought that Spurgeon’s business-like praying was anything other than childlike communion with his Father. The most touching description I have read of his communion with God comes from 1871 when he was in terrible pain with gout.
When I was racked some months ago with pain, to an extreme degree, so that I could no longer bear it without crying out, I asked all to go from the room, and leave me alone; and then I had nothing I could say to God but this, ‘Thou are my Father, and I am thy child; and thou, as a Father art tender and full of mercy. I could not bear to see my child suffer as thou makest me suffer, and if I saw him tormented as I am now, I would do what I could to help him, and put my arms under him to sustain him. Wilt thou hide thy face from me, my Father? Wilt thou still lay on a heavy hand, and not give me a smile from thy countenance?’ ... So I pleaded, and I ventured to say, when I was quiet, and they came back who watched me: ‘I shall never have such pain again from this moment, for God has heard my prayer.’ I bless God that ease came and the racking pain never returned. (“The Anguish and Agonies of Charles Spurgeon,” 24)
If we are going to preach through adversity, we will have to live in communion with God on such intimate terms — speaking to him our needs and our pain, and feeding on the grace of his promises and the revelations of God’s glory.
4. Spurgeon rekindled the zeal and passion to preach by fixing his eyes on eternity rather than the immediate price of faithfulness.
The apostle Paul saw that the outer nature was wasting away. And what kept him going was the abiding assurance that this momentary affliction is working for him an eternal weight of glory. And so he looked to the things that are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:16–18). So did Spurgeon.
O brethren, (he said to his pastors’ conference) we shall soon have to die! We look each other in the face to-day in health, but there will come a day when others will look down upon our pallid countenances as we lie in our coffins ... It will matter little to us who shall gaze upon us then, but it will matter eternally how we have discharged our work during our lifetime. (An All Round Ministry, 76)
When our hearts grow faint and our zeal wavers for the task of preaching he calls us to,
Meditate with deep solemnity upon the fate of the lost sinner ... Shun all views of future punishment which would make it appear less terrible, and so take off the edge of your anxiety to save immortals from the quenchless flame ... Think much also of the bliss of the sinner saved, and like holy Baxter derive rich arguments from ‘the saints’ everlasting rest.’ ... There will be no fear of your being lethargic if you are continually familiar with eternal realities.” (Students, 315)
Short of eternity he took the long view when it came to his own persecution. In the Downgrade controversy he said,
Posterity must be considered. I do not look so much at what is to happen to-day, for these things relate to eternity. For my part, I am quite willing to be eaten of dogs for the next fifty years; but the more distant future shall vindicate me. I have dealt honestly before the living God. My brother, do the same. (An All Round Ministry, 360–361)
To keep on preaching in storm of adversity, you must look well beyond the crisis and feelings of the hour. You must look to what history will make of your faithfulness and most of all what God will make of it at the last day.
5. For Spurgeon a key to his perseverance in preaching through adversity was that he had settled who he was and would not be paralyzed with external criticism or internal second-guessing.
One of the great perils of living under continual criticism is that this is a constant call for you to be other than what you are. And, in fact, a humble saint always wants to be a better person than he is. But there is a great danger here of losing your bearings in sea of self-doubt. Not knowing who you are. Not being able to say with Paul, “By the grace of God I am what I am” (1 Corinthians 15:10). Spurgeon felt this danger keenly.
In comparing one ministerial identity with another he reminded other pastors that at the last supper there was a chalice for drinking the wine and there was a basin for washing feet. Then he said,
I protest that I have no choice whether to be the chalice or the basin. Fain would I be whichever the Lord wills so long as He will but use me ... So you, my brother, you may be the cup, and I will be the basin; but let the cup be a cup, and the basin a basin, and each one of us just what he is fitted to be. Be yourself, dear brother, for, if you are not yourself, you cannot be anybody else; and so, you see, you must be nobody ... Do not be a mere copyist, a borrower, a spoiler of other men’s notes. Say what God has said to you, and say it in your own way; and when it is so said, plead personally for the Lord’s blessing upon it. (Ibid., 73–74)
And I would add, plead personally the Lord’s purifying blood upon it too, because none of our best labors is untainted. But the danger is to let the truth paralyze you with fear of man and doubt of self.
Eleven years later in 1886 he struck the same anvil again:
Friend, be true to your own destiny! One man would make a splendid preacher of downright hard-hitting Saxon; why must he ruin himself by cultivating an ornate style? ... Apollos has the gift of eloquence; why must he copy blunt Cephas? Every man in his own order. (Ibid., 232–233)
Spurgeon illustrates with his own struggle to be responsive to criticism during the Downgrade controversy. For a season he tried to adapt his language to the critics. But there came a time when he had to be what he was.
I have found it utterly impossible to please, let me say or do what I will. One becomes somewhat indifferent when dealing with those whom every word offends. I notice that, when I have measured my words, and weight my sentences most carefully, I have then offended most; while some of my stronger utterances have passed unnoticed. Therefore, I am comparatively careless as to how my expressions may be received, and only anxious that they may be in themselves just and true. (Ibid., 282–283)
If we are to survive and go on preaching in an atmosphere of controversy, there comes a point where you have done your best to weight the claims of your critics and take them to heart and must now say, “By the grace of God, I am what I am.” And bring an end to the deranging second-guessing that threatens to destroy the very soul.
6. But in the end, the strength to go on preaching in the midst of adversity and setbacks came for Spurgeon from the assured sovereign triumph of Christ.
Near the end of his life (1890) in (I believe) his last address to his pastors’ conference he compares adversity and the ebb of truth to the ebbing tide.
You never met an old salt, down by the sea, who was in trouble because the tide had been ebbing out for hours. No! He waits confidently for the turn of the tide, and it comes in due time. Yonder rock has been uncovered during the last half-hour, and if the sea continues to ebb out for weeks, there will be no water in the English Channel, and the French will walk over from Cherbourg. Nobody talks in that childish way, for such an ebb will never come. Nor will we speak as though the gospel would be routed, and eternal truth driven out of the land. We serve an almighty Master ... If our Lord does but stamp His foot, He can win for Himself all the nations of the earth against heathenism, and Mohammedanism, and Agnosticism, and Modern-though, and every other foul error. Who is he that can harm us if we follow Jesus? How can His cause be defeated? At His will, converts will flock to His truth as numerous as the sands of the sea ... Wherefore be of good courage, and go on your way singing [and preaching!]:
The winds of hell have blown The world its hate hath shown, Yet it is not o’erthrown. Hallelujah for the Cross! It shall never suffer loss! The Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge. (Ibid., 395–396)
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ooo-yeah-baby · 11 months
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hello again! <3 i was hoping to request a part 2 for Lovely :) perhaps reader and Moody get married before leaving Avonlea and they both go to Queen’s College together and share a bedroom at the boardinghouse. perhaps Moody really wants to start building their family and tries to convince reader to, but she’s insisting on waiting. he’s always all over her (forced kissing, touching, cuddling, etc) and she gets annoyed but remembers they’re married for life so she’ll have to get used to it, and warms up to him. honestly you can write whatever you’d like! i absolutely LOVE the first part and it gets better every time i re-read it :) thanks again!
Lovely, pt 2
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Yandere Moody Spurgeon x Reader
I only write sfw, feel free to send requests!! Noncon touching, kissing, etc. long, forced marriage, probably more I should add but literally what? Thank you for the request!! I stole the picture from Pinterest, gifs weren't loading lol
The wedding ceremony was just as Moody had expected it, almost. Although Y/Ns dress was simpler than the one from his vision, and there was no tint of blush covering her cheeks, his own were beat red, she still looked as beautiful as he had imagined.  
Actually, more beautiful. He couldn't've possibly imagined the way his breath would hitch as she approached him. 
He could tell she was forcing her smile as family and friends waved her down the aisle. And it would have been impossible for him to not notice the way her lips struggled not to frown when she was asked if she would take him. 
And the kiss felt less than ideal to Moody. It was completely one sided. He brought her near, closing his eyes and leaning in, pressing his lips against one's pressed straight. 
The ceremony was planned to be the week before the two moved to the Queens College dormitory. It was usually forbidden for ladies to share rooms with gentlemen but with the two being wed and the parents pressure they allowed the two to board together. 
The first night in the small room together was awkward and an explosion of emotions. The two sat on the edges of their two different beds, quietly, until Moody finally croaked up something. 
"I'm sorry, Y/N." 
"Are you really, Moody?" Y/N asked, crossing her leg over the other and folding her arms. "It doesn't seem like you're sorry. It seems like you're enjoying this." 
Moody sighed.
"No... I'm not sorry. But what else am I supposed to say?" He stood and stepped over to Y/N, kneeling down to her. "I don't want you to hate me." His hands reached for hers but she pulled them back. 
"Then you should have stopped this from happening!" She pushed her legs onto the bed and scooted back from Moody, curling them to her chest. "I had no choice! You had the power to stop it; I know you did." A tear fell from Y/Ns eye and before she could wipe it away herself Moody had swiped it with his thumb. Y/N looked back at him, seeing the worry on his face. "I do not hate you Moody, but I do not want to live like this." Her head fell to her knees. 
While Moody was worried for Y/N, his heart and mind couldn't help but linger on the what was almost the last thing she said. She did not hate him. 
Hate was hard to come back from but being just outside of hate could be an easy fix. He could still catch her eye and make her love him as he loved her. 
Moody moved to sit on the bed and wrapped his arms around the crying woman in hopes to comfort her, and even though Y/N wanted him as far as possible, his embrace did aid in making her calm down. 
The next few weeks were quiet between the two. Y/N would come back to the dorm late, having spent much of her day avoiding going back to the dorm. She'd spend her days in the library or at the girls dorm house, trying so hard to avoid her husband. 
When she would come home, Moody would welcome her with a kiss to the cheek. As much as he wanted to kiss her on the lips, she would push him away if he tried. Kissing her cheek was far easier for him, and she allowed it. 
Since he was unable to see Y/N during the day Moody thought he'd surprise her when she got home by pushing the beds together. Obviously it was more for him than for her but in his excited haste he forgot that Y/N had completely different feelings compared to him. 
She came home to see his smirking face standing outside the door. 
"Welcome home, my love." He pulled her in close and planted a kiss to her cheek, then another, then another, confusing his already tired wife. He moved and held the door open for her, presenting the newly enlarged bed in the center of the farthest wall, with the bedside table placed on the side that had been where Y/N had once slept. 
She stood in the middle of the room, mouth agape. 
"Moody, what is this?" 
"It's our bed. Married couples should share a bed." He grabbed her hand as he approached her from behind, wrapping his other arm around her waist in a back hug. 
"Moody, please-"
"I'm not putting it back the way it was." His voice was stern and his grip around her waist got just a little bit tighter. "You can spend all day avoiding me but when you come home at least pretend like you want to be near me."
"Moody I-" She tried to speak but he cut her off again. 
"You said you don't hate me so please act like it." He buried his head into the curve between her shoulder and neck. 
Instead of trying to respond this time Y/N just moved her free hand to pat Moodys hair. 
To Moodys liking, Y/N was becoming more and more complacent. 
She no longer cringed at his forced affections and as long as she was asleep she would allow him to cuddle into her as they slept. 
Moody began finding her after classes instead of waiting for her to come home. To his surprise she wouldn't hide from him. 
As the two reached their 3rd year in Queens College Moody began to think of their life after school. The next step in a marriage should be children, and Moody had always wanted a family. A big one too. Moody was good with children, having a younger sister of his own. He wanted to have little Moody and Y/Ns running around the home they build together. 
Little boys with Y/Ns hair and Moodys eyes, busy helping with the labor. Little girls with Moodys hair and Y/Ns nose baking treats alongside their mother. And Moody would teach all of them to play the Banjo, and Y/N would hum them to bed each night. There would be rambunctious dinners as a family. Moody would try to get hus children to become best friends with Charlie's and of course they'd also become best friends with Diane's and Anne's and all of Y/Ns friends children. Y/N and Moody would have short weekends to themselves while the children stayed at their grandparents, ending in some kind of warm welcoming back at the weekends end. And of course he hoped they could be taught by Ms. Stacy as he and Y/N had been. 
He fell in love with the idea of having children. It was only right. He had conjured such a vivid image of a happy life with them. He needed them, just as he had needed Y/N. 
But how could he simply bring it up? He didn't want to push her, who had still be standoff-ish. She still treated him as more of a friend than a husband and of course it bugged him but he couldn't bare to go back to the way things were at the beginning. At least she had began to smile at him. 
So Moody tried to give her simple little hints. Maybe he could subliminally trick her into wanting them as much as he wanted them, although that'd be very difficult. He'd mention reading something about children, learning something abt children in class, seeing children, asking her friends to bring it up, anything he could. He would even try whispering his daydream into her ear when he was sure she was asleep, in hopes to make her dream of having them. 
Of course his efforts worked somewhat but not in any way he intended or could notice. Y/N had of course began thinking of the idea, but in a more adversed way. 
She didn't want children. She still didn't want the marriage she was apart of so why would she want children? 
But when Moody came to her with his new wish she knew the world, the gods, everything was working against her. 
"Y/N. I would like to have children." Her kneeled by her feet as she sat on the bed. "Not now, seeing as we are still in school, but I want to have them someday." He held her hands in her lap and layed his chin on her knee. 
"Moody." Y/N sighed, trying to sound stern. "I don't want children." 
"Please!" He whined. "Just think about it!" He squeezed her hands gently. "Theres still a year and a half until we move home again and you can never speak for what the future holds." He kissed her knuckles than looked up into her eyes. "I promise you won't have to lift a finger and I will take care of everything! I love you Y/N! Just.. please." 
Y/N, becoming weak to Moodys wants and begging, nodded her head. 
"I suppose I can think it over, Moody." She said. 
Moody jumped up in joy. He thought it'd take all year, probably more to convince her but it was so much easier. He felt as light as air. It wasn't a yes, but it was not a no. 
Y/N on the other hand felt sick. After all these years Moody still hadn't given up on the marriage. Y/N had to start giving in eventually. She knew he wasn't going to give up in winning her over. Perhaps it was best to just give in at this point. Perhaps she could become happy in this state, in this life; as his wife. 
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