#ALSO while recounting every care bear cousins there are I just found out that the panda twins AREN’T?????

[withmytailtotheworld]

okay, I gotta ask everybody and anybody, EVERYBODY AND ANYBODY. even if you’re not a Care Bears fan or don’t know anything about it that well;

[whiskeyswriting]

Show Me The Meaning of Being Lonely

Black. Red. White.

Trumpets and guns.

Aviators saluted her.

A folded flag was handed to her grandpa.

Alana runs towards the caskets as they are being lowered. “Mama! Papa!” Her little voice and sobs break the hearts of those who remained at the cemetery.

Mike had to run after her to hold tightly onto her. “I know, Princess. I miss them too. I don’t want to say goodbye to them.” 

One of his previous Top Gun students comes to Mike’s side. “Sir. I can watch her for a few moments.” Viper turns to see Beau Simpson at his side.

Alana spots Beau and she opens her arms to hug him. “Uncle Beau,” she sobs out. He takes her in his arms and hugs her tightly. “My little Lana.” 

Mike lets his wife, Cindy, break down in his arms as their son and daughter-in-law are laid in their final resting place. It was now their responsibility to care for and raise their granddaughter, Alana. 

They love her, but starting over was not in their plans. All their lives have changed forever. As the days pass and they find their rhythm, Mike is thankful the Torres family lives in town, as they provide a lot of help. 

Soon, it’s one year later. Mike takes Alana to the cemetery. Lana runs to the headstones and hugs them as she cries. Then she starts talking a mile a minute about all she’s learned in school and everything her Not-Real-Uncle-But-Favorite-Uncle Cyclone has taught her.

Mike observes her and lets her get it all out of her system. He helps her place the flowers and stuffed bear against the headstones. Mike and Cindy talk to them for a few minutes too. Before they leave, Alana goes to kiss the stuffed bears. “I get lonely without you, mama… Can you come back?” Her voice wavers and, soon, the tears start to flow.

The years soon start passing, but their tradition remains the same. Every year, Alana continues to visit her parents on the anniversary of their death. Soon, she’s ten and telling them how much she had learned from Viper and Cyclone, after visiting them on base. 

“I still get lonely without you, but when I’m in the skies I see you… Uncle Beau also lets me tell his students they’re dumb.” Alana continues talking about her trip to Mexico with the Torres;  how Jacqueline and she would apply to the Naval Academy once they graduate high school. 

Eventually, Alana not only comes to the cemetery on the anniversary. Sometimes, she’ll come to see her parents to vent her frustrations, despairs, and celebrations. 

“Hi… Mama. By now I’m sure you found cousin Jax…”

“Papa. Mama… I’m engaged…”

“You’re going to be grandparents… I’m having twins!”

“I’m having a girl now… Mama. I’m naming her after you: Olivia Catherine Seresin.”

But not every visit is a sad and lonely one. Her favorite one? When she brought Baylie and Grace to celebrate her mom’s 50th birthday. All three were a tipsy, giggling mess recounting stories of their friendship and how they terrorize their men. Alana could feel her dad rolling his eyes affectionately at them, and, just as much, she also felt her mom drinking and giggling with them.

While the pain never truly went away, Alana knew that, despite the loneliness she felt, she was never truly alone.

--

Lovelies 🏷 List: @dragon-kazansky @cycbaby @callsignscupcake @bayisdying @askmarinaandothers @altierirose @breadsquash @callsignthirsty @callmemana @gracespicybradshaw

[the-other-art-blog]

Little Men thoughts part 8: The Brookes

This is such a sad post.

John Brooke

John dies and it’s the most heartbreaking thing that happens to the family after Beth’s passing. I just would have like to see more of him in this book. Although, Louisa had a hard time writing about the people who were gone so I understand why she couldn’t include him more.

Fritz does say he lost his best friend.

Mr. Bhaer went hastily away quite bowed with grief, for in John Brooke he had lost both friend and brother, and there was no one left to take his place.

I would have also liked some words from Laurie. He wasn’t the best student and yet John had to bear it cause he needed the money. But he also played a part in making a man out of Laurie. And both Fritz and Laurie learned a lot from John’s parenting. I would have liked seeing the men interacting more.

I found in an article about Alf Whitman this extract from a letter that John Pratt (real life John Brooke) wrote about his marriage:

Our life together has been so beneficial, so satisfying, so peaceful so pure & happy that it seems to me almost as if we were designed by Providence for one another, & the hopes and wishes I used to recount to you have far more than been realized, so much so that there is nothing left for me to ask for, our life is one long day of sunshine.

The boys called him “the best” and he certainly was. Meg won the lottery by marrying him. He was such a hard working man and he really gave Meg everything she needed, even leaving her free of debts. I suppose he always knew he would die soon.

Meg

That letter, previously quoted, was supposed to be sent by Anna (real life Meg), but since she did it late, she added,

John and I plod along happily in our little home, daily finding how very little is necessary when one has plenty of love in the cupboard. My dear old man grows gooder & handsomer & happier every day and I really can’t see that we have much left to desire in this world.

When you have someone like that, losing them must be unbearable.

Meg is such a strong woman. Honestly, I hate every time people say she (and Amy) contended herself with a domestic life. In reality she got everything she wanted. Not every woman wants to participate in a revolution and that’s ok! Some dream of a cozy home to share with a partner and kids. It doesn’t make their lives any less relevant.

Most people pay attention to either Amy&Laurie or Jo&Fritz. I know I did, but after reading those letter I won’t make the same mistake. Meg and John’s story is equally important and epic!

I suppose that just as John was a model for Fritz and Laurie, Meg was a model for her younger sisters. They also had Marmee but a sister is a different kind of connection.

Meg became a widow at 30 years old (maybe 31 or 32) with three kids, one of which will barely have memories of him. And I’m sure she’s dying inside and at times she wants to actually die.

When John died, Anna wrote to Alf,

All looks dark to me, and at times I feel that I cannot live.

But the way she composed herself during the funeral was remarkable.

"Dear Jo, the love that has blest me for ten happy years supports me still. It could not die, and John is more my own than ever,"

In my experience, funerals are the moment when you’re numb. The loss has just happened and there’s so much happening. There’s preparation to be made and you have be polite to the attendants (and then the mass and the rosaries in Catholic tradition), and everything just moves so fast. It’s the days that follow that are horrible. It’s when you actually feel there’s someone missing.

It’s in moments like this where religion really helps people and why it’s never going to go away. That belief that they’re going to be separated for a while, but they’ll meet again must have help Meg to accept his death and find comfort in her kids and family.

Daisy and Josie

I already talked about Daisy in Part 2, and I repeat I would have liked to see her grieving, but I understand why the focus in on Demi. There’s an episode in Modern Family where Alex’s boyfriend confesses that his biggest worry is to not be as good as Phil, cause he is such a wonderful man and dad. Oh boy, John really set the bar incredibly high for Nat and Josie’s future husband.

Josie is really only mentioned here, thought she must be a year younger that Bess, so like 3 years old. So, to correct my post from a few weeks ago. The March women were pregnant in  consecutive years!!! Can you imagine that?! First Amy, then Meg and lastly Jo. Jesus, those poor men haha.

Demi

In Little Women Chapter 45 it is stated that the twins are advanced. Demi became a bookworm, sure her aunt Jo is super proud. Plus, he definitely uses Sherlock’s technique of a ‘mind palace’! And he bonded with his grandfather because of this.

All the times where he mispronounces something is so cute and reminded me so much of Amy in LW.

“a sackerryfice”

“an arrygory”

It’s really fun. Honestly, not just him, but every time a kid mispronounces something :3

There this idea of “the man of the house”. So John’s death really forces him to grow up, especially when he has a mother and two sisters to take care of. There’s no brother who might help him. He has cousins and uncles but it’s not the same. It breaks my heart when Jo finds him crying at night.

Part 1: Jo and Fritz,

Part 2: the girls at Plumfield

Part 3: Nat Blake

Part 4: Laurie

Part 5: Jo and Laurie

Part 6: Bess Laurence

Part 7: Amy Laurence

[chestnut-b]

Himawari Chapter 7

“Do you think I could become strong too? Like you and Kakashi-sensei?” 

Iruka couldn’t help but smile. 

To see with the eyes of a child again.

He pressed his forehead to the boy’s own. 

“Stronger than anyone else, for sure.”

Chapter 7 of a Demon Slayer AU.

Two days after he’d left the forest, Kakashi made the admittedly, equally convoluted journey to the slayer headquarters. On his arrival, he was ushered in by the waiting attendants, and was soon joined by another. Before they could exchange words, a pair of young girls dressed in deep purple kimono announced their presence. 

“The master has arrived.” They said in unison, before retreating further back into the room.

The newly arrived figure took a seat before them, and with a calm, warm smile, began to speak.

“Welcome back, Anko. It pleases me to have you with us again after your long journey.”

“You honor me, Oyakata-sama.”

“And you, Kakashi, it’s been more than half a year since you’ve set foot here. I pray you’ve been well. We’re grateful for all your efforts.”

“Thank you, Oyakata-sama.”

As usual, our leader has a way with words, Kakashi mused silently. Lifting his head from his bow, he took in the sight of the man before him. 

Senju Hashirama, head of the clan and current leader of the Demon Slayer Corp. He wasn’t lying when he told Iruka that they shared a striking resemblance, the teacher could have easily passed as a younger doppelgänger, though he lacked the aura and mannerisms of one raised in a great household from birth. 

“It seems we’ve got great weather today. Is that so, Hinata?”

The girl in the back let out a surprised squeak before replying meekly “Y-yes! The sky is a deep, beautiful blue today.” The younger girl beside her stoically confirmed her observations. With their clear-white gazes, the Hyuuga attendants could have easily been mistaken as the unsighted ones here.

His condition’s gotten worse since the last time I was here, Kakashi noted. The Hashira’s thoughts flickered for a moment to a pair of similar, smiling dark eyes, but he quashed it before the unease could settle in his chest. 

“Anko, if you would.”

The woman in question nodded before sitting up at attention. She began to recount the last month of her reconnaissance with Jiraiya. Kakashi gave her a once over in the corner of his eye, and was met with a red, beady-eyed stare, and a flicking, forked tongue peaking out from under the collar of her coat.

For a person who survived the trauma of Orochimaru’s enslavement and subsequent decimation of her clan, Anko was surprisingly fond of snakes, he thought wryly.

“The skin we found was estimated to be about a month old. We also engaged two members of the Lower-Moons in battle on our journey back. The samples have been sent to the medical quarters, as requested.” She concluded.

That caught Kakashi’s attention. It had been a few years since any slayer had encountered even a Lower-Moon ranked demon. The Hashira who’d engaged one had been instructed to collect blood samples. What they were doing with those samples, Kakashi wasn’t privy to. 

The medical quarters were located in the Snail Estate and functioned as a hospital. He knew it used to have a leader, but for as long as he’d been a slayer, that seat had been left empty.

“Thank you, Anko. You’ve done well. Please get some rest before your next assignment.”

“As you wish.” Taking it as her cue to leave, she bowed, turned to wink at Kakashi and, if he knew her at all, left for the nearest dango stand, presumably.

“Kakashi, it’s about time for my walk. Would you care to join me?”

------------------------------------

They moved, between the seemingly endless lines of grave markers, in silence.

Every member who had perished in service to the corp had a place here. Even those who’d failed the selection. Their predecessors; the ones that had lain here for over a hundred years still saw fresh flowers being placed before them, even now.

Among these, his father’s, Obito’s, Rin’s. 

They stopped in front of one bearing the name ‘Namikaze Minato’. The one beside it bore Kushina’s name.

“Is he growing well, Kakashi?” 

For a moment he wasn’t sure who had asked the question.

“Yes. It’s still too early to judge his strength, but I was able to observe his reaction to the wisteria, it’s promising. He should have no issue participating in the selections, should he choose to take it.” Kakashi turned to his sensei’s marker; there were bright yellow chrysanthemums laid before it. 

“He’s energetic, loud, as much a troublemaker as any other child his age, but also brave.” 

He remembered Iruka gently touching Naruto’s cheek.

“Naruto’s been well taken care of.” Perhaps his sensei would find it reassuring. 

The man beside him smiled somberly.  

“How much time do you think we have?” 

“Patterns indicate five years, if we’re lucky.” 

“Too short.” The older man lamented.

They continued walking for a while, and eventually reached another marker, differentiated from the others only by the wisteria flowers carved into the stone.

Tenzou.

The Senju are famously short lived you know.

He knew. 

Kakashi had been promoted to Hashira merely two years after he’d received the sharingan. The first person he’d addressed as ‘Oyakata-sama’ was not the man standing beside him now, but a boy, not many years younger than he was.

He would have been the same age as Iruka, had he lived.

A gentle soul who loved gardening and plants, who looked at him less like a subordinate and more like an older brother. A boy who stood steadfast as he issued orders to the older Hashira, but cried only in front of Kakashi when the crows delivered news of more losses.

He’d succumbed to his curse before he’d had the chance to have a family.

“It’s a pity. I’m sure Tenzou would have very much liked to meet his cousin.”

He knows I know. Kakashi should have been surprised, but he wasn’t. Instead, he found himself in silent agreement.

You would like him, Tenzou.

“If I may ask, why haven’t you called for him?” 

“Iruka knows he’d be welcomed if he chose to return. I do not wish to trample upon Kohari’s wishes by insisting otherwise.”

Iruka, stubborn as usual.

“‘I’ve heard he’s performing duties as a slayer, Kakashi?”

“To the best of his abilities, Oyakata-sama.”

The elder Senju smiled. “It’s been decades since any of our family have been able to take up a sword. He does us all a great honor. I have to send Hiruzen my thanks.”

Kakashi looked upon the figure before him with a hooded eye.

An anomaly in every sense of the word. When Tenzou had passed, he’d expected another young Senju to replace him as leader. Instead, a man who looked well into his forties had appeared before them. He’d seen that face only once before; among the portraits of clan leaders that hung in the estate, his was amongst the first. The space beside his, that would have normally been reserved for a sibling, was left ominously empty. 

This man, by any calculation, should be well over two hundred years old. 

Jiraiya and Sarutobi had served under him as former Hashira. By now, he should have been just one of the markers amongst hundreds in this garden.

Perhaps there are stranger things than Orochimaru still walking this land.

“I hope you’ll continue to be friends with him.”

The Hyuuga retainers soon appeared before them, and led the man back to the Estate, leaving Kakashi to greet his friends and father before he eventually left the compound.

------------------------------------

He found Guruko whining pitifully at Anko at a roadside dango house. The hound busied herself staring down the snake that was coiled around Anko’s neck.

“You better not have fed her any dango, Anko. It could kill her.”

“As if I’d give up any for one of your mutts, idiot.” She muttered in between chews. The bandages that normally covered the bottom of her face were nowhere to be seen, leaving the scars that stretched across her mouth as plain as day. 

Kakashi ordered a cup of tea. He’d been feeling strangely deprived. He delved into his pouch for a stick of dried meat, and tossed it to the hound who started gnawing on it gleefully. 

“The old man’s dropping by the Forest Of Death before heading west. Isn’t that where you came from? Something particularly interesting I don’t know about?” 

“I left the manuscript for his new book there.”

Anko rolled her eyes before starting on another stick. 

“Five years huh. The Lower-Moons we fought weren’t exactly pushovers, but they’ll be replaced eventually. Something needs to change, or we’ll just be repeating this over and and over again.”

Kakashi made a nonchalant sound before starting on his tea. Not quite the way he’d become used to liking it, but it would have to do. 

His thoughts turned to Naruto and his guardian. Naruto would be eleven, maybe twelve by the time Orochimaru would prepare for another takeover. If he ever knew about the boy’s immunity to sunlight, it would only fire his determination. 

It was a grim thought. 

“I’ll be heading up north to see if I can pick up a trail.” 

“Well, try not to die. It would be a pain to have to cover for you.” She muttered, with all the concern she could muster. 

Kakashi sighed, looking into his cup, he wondered if Iruka was having tea by himself today. 

------------------------------------

Iruka looked at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced. 

He only remembered pieces of what had happened the previous night, and was ready to dismiss it as another terrible nightmare, but as soon as he was upright he was struck with pain in his upper body. Parting his yukata, he grew increasingly disturbed to see red patches spread across his arms and chest where he’d held the boy. Not quite burns, but they radiated heat and stung painfully with any extraneous movement. 

Training was going to be more unpleasant than usual.

Steeling himself for another day, he quickly dressed himself and made his way to the main courtyard, where Naruto already stood before his classmates, rambling excitedly.

“Iruka-sensei was soooo cool! The demon was gonna get us but he chopped off his legs in one hit!” With his wooden sword in hand, he slashed the air. 

Iruka cursed inwardly. 

The boy was so caught up in his retelling, he’d failed to realise half his audience was slowly descending into hysterics. Lee was panicking; Sakura looked just about ready to cry. Further in the distance, Mizuki stared coldly.

“NARUTO!” He’d grabbed the arm holding the sword, harder than he would have liked. Combined with the unusual harshness of his voice, it was enough to silence the boy immediately. 

“I-Iruka-sensei?” 

He was looking at Iruka with confused, wide eyes. It was with relief that Iruka saw they were still the sky-blue eyes he loved, but somewhere deep down, it hurt.

“Enough. You’re scaring them.” 

It prompted the boy to look at his classmates. Sakura broke into tears, and it made some of the others do the same. A few were staring at him angrily. He looked back to Iruka with a disquieted, questioning look. 

“We’ll talk later, Naruto.”

He let go of the boy’s arm, and walked towards the distressed children, kneeling before them. 

“It’s all right. The demon was defeated.” He wiped the tears from Sakura’s cheek with the edge of his sleeve. “All of us are here to protect you. Don’t give in to fear.”

His words seemed to help calm things down. It took a while, but with some encouragement, the class finally started, and they were back to practicing their forms. Iruka looked at his children.

Orphans, every single one of them. All because of demons, in one way or the other. How many of them had survived nearly being eaten by their own loved ones? How many of them had their last memories of their family tainted in blood?

They would have all carried those memories here with them. 

Naruto didn’t know that pain, and Iruka was selfishly grateful for it, but it would always be a wall between him and his friends. 

Every year, they took in more children, and every year, they sent off children with sparks on their backs.

Every year, the crows would deliver a short list of names who survived the selections.

Iruka gripped his sword tighter, ignoring the wave of heat that ran down his arm.

Something had to change. 

------------------------------------

It was night. Under the light of a full moon, they were sitting across each other on their futons. In Iruka’s shadow were two tiny glass vials of freshly drawn blood. A monthly ritual.

He had the boy’s small wrist in his hand, the same one he’d grabbed earlier in the day. With the ball of his thumb, he applied a gentle pressure.

“Do you understand what I just said, Naruto?”

The boy nodded slowly with a somber expression on his face. 

“You’ve also experienced loss, but...not in the same way. Demons used to be people too, and for your friends, they may have been people they loved. It’s hard to imagine, I know. But I hope you’ll see why they reacted that way to you earlier.”

“My mom and dad, weren’t they killed by demons?”

“Yes.” 

“So I should hate them too, right?”

Iruka paused. He had to pick his next words carefully.

“Naruto, most of them didn’t turn by choice, and many of them don’t have free will, but...I think they’re probably suffering, deep inside. They can’t walk under the sun, they can’t appreciate delicious food. They’ll never be able to hold their loved ones again.”

It was hard to admit, but it had taken years for Iruka to reach that conclusion. Even though his mother had tried explaining it to him since he was a child. 

He’d spent years debating this with himself. 

Was compassion going to be a strength or his weakness? Even as the words left his lips, he didn’t know if he was making the right choice.

Iruka placed his free hand on the boy’s head. 

“Not everyone sees it that way, but I think the least we can do, is try to end their suffering. Everyone here who wants to be a slayer, it’s not just to become strong for the sake of it. They don’t want others to feel the same pain they did.”

“Do you think I could become strong too? Like you and Kakashi-sensei?” 

Iruka couldn’t help but smile. 

To see with the eyes of a child again.

He pressed his forehead to the boy’s own. 

“Stronger than anyone else, for sure.”

------------------------------------

This time it wasn’t Kakashi sitting across him drinking tea, but one retired Hashira.

Jiraiya let out a perplexed sigh as Iruka buttoned his shirt. 

“I’ve never heard anything about this from Kushina. Has it happened again since?”

Iruka shook his head. “It was like a dream. But his eyes...I certainly felt the Kyuubi’s presence.” 

It had been years, but he couldn’t never forget it even if he tried.

“Could be a reaction to meeting a demon for the first time. The old blood’s stirring. I’ll head to Sarutobi’s to see if he knows anything about it.” 

“Please send my regards to him and Konohamaru-kun, Jiraiya-sama.”

Iruka placed a book before the older man. A vulgar, bright orange. It had been Kakashi’s last request of him, annoyingly enough. 

But before it could be taken, a box was placed atop it. Curious, Jiraiya removed its lid.

“This is more than the usual isn’t it. Two of them aren’t even Naruto’s. What’s going on?” He asked, making eye contact with the youth before him.

“I have a request.” he stated simply.

“Hmm?”

“I’d like to speak to Tsunade-sama. Please keep this from Kakashi-san, too.”

“Just what are you hoping for, Iruka?” His gaze suddenly narrowed, but Iruka’s didn’t falter.

For a few long moments, there was only silence between them, but that was soon broken.

“Fine, but I hope you don’t live to regret this.”

Iruka smiled.

Rest assured, I certainly don’t intend to.

------------------------------------

End of Chapter 7

Author’s Notes:

Thanks for reading! This chapter was another interesting but challenging one to write. :D Do let me know what you think of it! The mystery of the missing portrait, think you can figure it out? (If you read what we know about the character and the thing’s he’s done in Naruto’s canon, it shouldn’t be hard to figure out his role in this story!).

I wanted to try a more ink style for this chapter’s artwork. Hope you like it!

[carrotsofavonlea]

Hi! I love your stories! Is it possible to send you a prompt? I love the situation of Gilbert being the first to fall for Anne and her realizing about her feelings in season 3 on the show but what if it was the other way around? What if it was Anne the one gone for Gilbert since the first moment and him only realizing his feelings during season 3 like Anne in AWAE (maybe because she starts courting? or because of any other reason) I'd make me so happy! Big thanks and hugs^^

Thank you for waiting, this took longer than planned and the word count just kept increasing!

(for the purposes of the story lets just pretend Roy is Diana’s cousin ok?)

///

You can't talk to Gilbert Blythe, you can't even look at him. 

Anne didn't want to, but she couldn't help it. Josie's warning all those years ago had never held much weight in Anne's mind. She knew Ruby was helplessly in love with Gilbert, and she respected that. But whenever Gilbert spoke to her she couldn't help but feel her heart rate increase, butterflies formed in her stomach whenever their hands accidentally touched as they worked on the school paper together, passing papers between themselves.

Anne couldn't lie to herself. She was also crushing on Gilbert. How could she not? There was no denying he was the most handsome boy in their class, he had such a splendid chin. Even the moment they met had been like something out of a fairy tale, with Gilbert stepping out of the woods to save her from Billy. Of course she wasn't some helpless damsel, but it had felt nice for once to be cared about. Here she was, a strange girl in the woods but instead of joining in with his classmate, Gilbert had stood up for her. 

Of course he had shown his true colours when he pulled her hair, subsequently pulling her out of whatever prince charming spell he’d had over her. But over the next few months he had slowly won her back, showing that he truly was sorry and now she supposed they’d been friends ever since. It was only when he left for months that she realised she had fallen for his charms again.

For three years she had been helplessly in love with Gilbert Blythe, but there was nothing she could do about it. He had settled into the role of her friend and there was no changing that. Besides, why would he want her - some red-headed orphan - when he could have literally any girl in Avonlea? There were moments she thought maybe he felt it too, when their eyes met across the room, but other times he would take a tone with her and they would start arguing. 

It seemed futile that anything would happen with Gilbert, so when Anne met Diana’s cousin Roy (and he actually showed an active interest in her), how could she say no?

Roy was tall, dark, and handsome. It had started off quite simple. Anne had met him when she visited Aunt Josephine’s as part of her quest to find out more about her family. But he seemed to be there every time she turned up, until eventually Cole suggested they both go out to tea - and soon it became a weekly affair. 

She’d managed to keep it hidden from her friends - other than Diana of course - but especially Gilbert. It wasn’t anything wrong, but somehow she couldn’t bear it if Gilbert ever found out. She was supposed to be over him, but here she was trying to avoid them ever meeting. 

It had been going well until Roy turned up at the county fair. The two worlds were meeting, but Anne had done everything to make sure she avoided Gilbert at the fair, until the dancing began...

“Does he remind you of someone?” Ruby said, tilting her head as she stared at Roy while he was talking to Anne.

“He’s related to Diana, Ruby.” Josie rolled her eyes.

“No, that’s not it...his hair is...and his eyes…” she turned her head, catching a glimpse of Gilbert stood on the other side of the dance hall, talking to Moody. And then it hit her. “Gilbert. He looks like Gilbert!”

The other girls all immediately turned around to stare at Gilbert, giggling when he awkwardly caught their eyes. 

“Perhaps we should...introduce them.” Josie smirked, walking towards Gilbert before the other girls could stop her.

Josie linked her arm through Gilbert’s, dragging him across the hall and tapping Roy on the shoulder, Anne’s face falling when she realised what was happening.

“Gilbert, this is Roy. Anne’s -”

“Friend.” Anne cut off Josie before she could spin some kind of web that would leave everyone uncomfortable. 

“Pleasure. Anne’s told me all about her classmates but she failed to tell me about you.” Roy smiled a bright smile as he held out his hand to Gilbert, but there was something in his eyes that Anne couldn’t read.

“Likewise.” Gilbert returned the handshake with similar politeness, but like Roy there seemed to be a stiffness about the pleasantries, a tension between the two boys.

Roy subtly glanced Gilbert up and down, mentally comparing himself. Gilbert was similar in height to him, perhaps broader in the shoulders as evidence of his life in farmwork. But Roy’s suit was smarter, his cufflinks pure silver, given as a gift for his eighteenth birthday. Roy’s hair was parted neater, his shoes not scuffed but polished so that his reflection was almost visible. He was almost a mirror of what Gilbert could have been had he been born into a wealthy family. 

After a moment’s silence, Gilbert nodded to Anne, stepping away and back into the crowd, an unreadable expression on his face. Was he jealous? No, Gilbert Blythe didn’t get jealous. He was far above that. Or was he?

////

Gilbert walked home in a daze, staring up at the moon. Anne...had a beau? She was courting someone. He’d never considered it before, not that Anne wasn’t courting material, any man would be lucky to be her husband. But he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Maybe he had had a crush on her once, but she’d quickly made her feelings known so he just never pursued anything. 

He just never imagined she’d find someone. Logically he knew it was bound to happen, but it still shocked him. They’d been friends for years, he hadn’t imagined one day she wouldn’t be in his life. Why did he care? He should be happy for his friend. And yet, there was a burning feeling in his chest when he thought of Anne with another boy. Another boy who looked exactly like him. It was just a coincidence. Right?

“I don’t know Gilbert, it sounds like maybe you’re in love with Anne.” Bash was bouncing Dellie up and down as he paced, listening to Gilbert recount the events of the fair. 

“I’m, she’s, we’re not...I am just curious about this Roy character.” 

Bash tilted his head, “Sure. Just curious like you were when you got her letter on the boat and wouldn’t stop talking about her.”

“She’s my friend. I just don’t think this Roy is a right fit for her.” Gilbert hung his jacket on the back of the kitchen chair, leaning his two hands on the back as he thought. “You should have seen the way he looked at me. Like I was irrelevant, beneath him.”

“I can imagine.”

Gilbert straightened up, realising what that must sound like to Bash. Of course he knows what it’s like to be looked at like you were nothing. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“It’s alright.” Bash shook his head.

Gilbert began pacing, gesticulating to emphasise his points. “But my point was that Anne shouldn’t be with someone like that. She’s too good for him. He’s the type who just wants a pretty wife to sit around his house and cook for him, but that’s not Anne. She has a mind, and spirit. She deserves someone who can see that. Who knows what it’s like to have to work for something. Someone who will let her follow her dreams. Someone...someone like…”

“Someone like you?” 

Gilbert stood still, hands falling to his sides. He imagined it, him and Anne. It didn’t scare him, but rather it made it all clear. He was in love with Anne. He was in love with Anne Shirley Cuthbert. But she was with someone else…

“She loves him. Not me…” 

Bash put Dellie down and grasped Gilbert by the shoulders. “You don’t know it’s love. He’s a nice fellow who showed interest. How do you know if you didn’t tell her how you feel that she’d return those feelings. You’ve shown no interest, she probably thinks you don’t care for her. You said it yourself he looks just like you. Is that not a sign? You have to tell her, you have to give her a choice at least.”

Gilbert nodded slowly, letting Bash’s words sink in. “I...I have to tell her. I have to tell her that I love her. And if she rejects me then I’ll have to accept it. But like you said, I have to give her a choice.”

Gilbert fled from the house, running through the night towards Green Gables.

////

“This is all so...sudden.” Anne stood on the porch of Green Gables, one hand on her chest, the other being held by Roy who was on his knees. 

“Anne, I’ve asked Marilla and Matthew and they say it falls to you. So what do you say?”

“I…” she hadn’t imagined her marriage proposal to be so...unromantic.

Roy had been talking about his father’s business and that he was soon to come into money, and before she knew what was happening he was on his knees asking if she would be his wife. They’d barely been…(were they even courting?) for a few weeks. She’d imagined a far more romantic speech, and she’d expected to actually feel like she was in love. Roy was lovely, and he was pleasant to be around, but she didn’t know if she could be around him forever. When she thought of her life...Roy wasn’t there. Her mind couldn’t conjure up the image of them together, sitting by the fire reading, holding hands in their matching chairs.

“What about college? I haven’t even started yet.”

Roy stood up, smiling, “Yes but if we were married you wouldn’t even need to go to college. Isn’t that great? I’d support us so you needn't work a day in your life.”

Anne shook her head, “But I want to be a teacher. It’s not about money. It’s about dreams.”

“You’ll have new dreams.” He held one of her hands, holding a ring in the other. She pulled her hand from his.

“I don’t want new dreams. You’re asking me to give up my life. I can’t do that.”

“But everyone expects it.”

Anne shook her head. “Roy, I can’t marry you. I can’t be expected to give up my dreams and settle down as some house wife. That isn’t who I am. I can’t be that person for you. I’m sorry, but goodbye Roy.”

“Anne?”

“I can’t.” 

“Is there someone else? It's that Blythe boy isn’t it? That we met at the fair?” 

At the mention of Gilbert her heart sank. She had been in love with him for years, tried to move on with Roy but that hadn’t worked. It always came back to Gilbert. But it was true when she pictured a future with Roy, it didn’t seem right. But when she thought of a future without Gilbert in it...she just couldn’t. 

“He doesn’t love me back. But that isn’t why I can’t marry you. We don’t work. I’m sorry Roy.”

Roy bowed his head solemnly, “He is a fool for not loving you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps one day we can be friends, and laugh about this nonsense?”

Anne laughed, “I hope so.”

“Then, farewell Anne.” Roy politely bowed, taking his leave from Anne for perhaps the last time.

She sat on the porch after he’d left, letting the moonlight light up the fields before her. A part of her thought she had made a mistake, but another part of her knew there was no use trying to pretend that she was not still hopelessly in love with Gilbert. Marrying Roy would only end in unhappiness for the both of them, but at least she figure it out sooner rather than later.

As she hugged her knees tighter to herself she mumbled, “Unreciprocated love is far more tragical anyway…”

She looked up as she heard footsteps approaching, a dishevelled looking Gilbert breathing heavily stood before her. Had he run all the way here?

“Mind if I join you?” he gestured to the empty space on the porch step, and Anne shuffled over to make room.

“Anne...I have to tell you something. And I know you’re with Roy and he’s a very lucky man but…”

“I’m not with Roy.” She whispered, looking down at the ground. “He asked me to marry him and I said no…”

“Oh…” Gilbert forgot what he was going to say and instead followed up with, “Why did you refuse him?”

She sighed, “We want different things. He’s not right for me. I want someone who will support my dreams, not prevent them. I can’t be the perfect little house wife that he expects. But also,” she finally met Gilbert’s eyes. “because I realise I’m still in love with someone else.”

“Oh...well, that’s unfortunate.” Gilbert awkwardly cleared his throat, unsure what to say.

“What was it you came here to tell me?” she perked up a little, a small smile tugging at her lips.

He couldn’t back down now, “That...that I love you. And I know I can’t offer the marbled halls that Roy can, but I promise you, my heart is and always has belonged to you. I should have told you earlier, but in all truth I didn’t even know myself. All I knew was that you were always going to be in my future, I just didn’t know how. But now I do. I’m not asking for your favour, I just couldn’t let you marry him without knowing how I felt.”

Anne leaned forward, cupping both his cheeks with her hands as she kissed him. When she pulled back, she was surprised at herself for acting so boldly. But when Gilbert’s face broke into a huge smile, she knew all was well. 

“Do you truly love me too?” he said, almost pinching himself to check it was all real. 

“I always have. You just took too long to notice.”

“Forgive me.” he laughed, brushing the hair from her face as he leaned in to kiss her this time.

“But this isn’t a marriage proposal?” she suddenly stopped, holding up a hand.

“No.” Gilbert’s eyes grew wide. “Were you expecting one?”

“No.”

He took one of her hands, “How about we make a promise. That one day, it will be a proposal. One day when we’re done with school and college. But for now, we’ll just...be.”

“I like the sound of that.”

He lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I should probably go before Marilla shouts at me for this indecent display.”

“Perhaps.” Anne laughed, letting him help her up. “Goodnight, Gilbert.”

He grabbed her waist, kissing her quickly once again just because he could. “Goodnight, my Anne with an E.”