#and then there's of course Blythe bless her heart

[leffee]

So anyway

Look he just looked so good and it just so happened that I was listening to songs and suddenly this one about being in love came and I was looking at him and-. So yeah.

loaded indeed my anon mate. but i did do it!

and as a bonus:

[twoidiotwriters1]

let me see you -Gilbert Blythe xFem!reader

Request: @ghostlyaccurate [...]maybe they recently had a baby, and reader is a little self cautious abt her body, and maybe she's overthinking abt herself and some tooth rotting soft smut occurs because Gilbert loves her regardless of what she looks like... Words: 1,324 Warnings: 18+ content, oral sex (fem receiving), mentions of pregnancy Twoidiots Masterlist

You're getting ready for bed after another blessed long day, as it has become your habit, you undress facing the wall instead of the mirror.

You've come to terms with the fact that your body might take a while before it goes back to its former figure, that if it ever does, and so you take each layer of fabric without paying much attention to yourself.

It's been three months and a half since you had your beautiful baby, but you still fear any sudden movements will affect your recovery, even if Gilbert insists that your body is ready to keep up with your normal speed.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Gilbert silently knocks on the door and then steps inside once your quiet voice allows him to come in. His eyes are immediately drawn to your figure, a small yet appreciative smile on his face as he approaches with open arms.

"We should rest," you turn quickly, escaping his embrace like you've done for the past two weeks.

"Y/N," he says reproachfully, his brow furrowing with disappointment. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Of course not," you sit on your side of the bed, kicking off your slippers and lifting a foot to rub it. "But we should rest, we don't know for how long will the baby let us sleep tonight, and you have work tomorrow."

Gilbert untucks his shirt, still frowning. "You won't let me touch you, don't think I don't notice."

"Don't be silly, Gilbert," you huff, turning to pull down the covers and sneak underneath them.

"Y/N Blythe," he scowls. "Look at me." He approaches your side of the bed and gets on one knee, gently touching your forearm. He observes you carefully for a moment before continuing to speak. "Is this about your recovery again?"

"No," you huff again, then wrinkle your nose. "Not quite."

Gilbert nods, gaze a bit absent as he thinks of what to say next. He gets up to sit beside you. "Is it about your body figure?" Before you can protest he hurries to explain. "I heard Diana and you when she came to visit you—she was telling you how hard it was to look at herself because she'd lost her juvenile body, and you said you knew what she meant."

You stare at your hands, clasped together and fidgeting with the lace in your nightgown. "Some nights I feel like I've aged decades in just a few months. And then I look at you, and you're still same old Gilbert running up and down the stairs, picking me up, rushing out and about. I feel inadequate."

"That's preposterous," he exclaims in disapproval. "I could not imagine a world in which you do not suit me, Y/N. My beautiful wife, there is not a day since we discovered you were having a baby that I have not felt awe and infatuation."

He leans in, reaching to caress your jawline with utmost reverence. You tilt your head into his touch, holding his hand in place with a gentle grip. "You haven't seen me since I had our baby, my body isn't as it was..."

"We were never going to stay the same, dearest," he mutters. "Even if no children had come, our bodies would've lost strength and volume with time. Wrinkles would come, our hair would lose color..." He runs his thumb over your cheek. "I didn't marry a body, I married to our love."

Gilbert shifts closer and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "I married your heart," he kisses your cheek, "your laughter..." his lips brush lower, reaching the soft skin under your ear, "your soul..."

His lips find your neck and press firm, loving kisses on the spot. His hand travels from your cheek to the back of your head, softly threading in the fine locks of hair he finds.

"Let me see you, dearest," he breathes, gently pushing you back. "You have no reason to fear."

His free hand moves up to the lace in your nightgown and expertly tugs on the bow, undoing the wrapping without looking and sneaking his palm underneath it, caressing your soft, sensitive chest with a featherlight touch.

"There you are," he smiles against your skin.

You close your eyes and press your head against the pillow, his head slipping from under your head and pushing against the mattress as he travels down, inhaling your perfume as he buries his nose in the open slit of your nightgown."

"Y/N..." he sighs, his hand tightening around the sheets. "How I've missed you..."

"I missed you too," you admit in a shaky whisper, one of your hands reaching for his soft curls and clinging to them gently. "My love..."

He groans, kissing a path down the valley of your breasts. "May I make love to you, my dear?"

You nod unable to speak, the air in your lungs too light to spare it. Benedict pushes the fabric wide open revealing your form to his eyes. His pupils dilate hungrily, months of patient waiting finally coming to an end. His large hand presses carefully on your tummy, and he locks eyes with you.

"I worship you entirely," he says, "but this?" He caresses your navel. "This part of you is my goddess. And this..." his hand moves down, slipping past the apex of your legs. His smile widens when you arch against his fingers. "That is my holy grail."

"Oh, Gilbert," you shiver, your legs curling under his touch.

Your husband kisses down your stomach. "You created a whole new little person in a matter of months, your body had to adjust to some changes..." he mumbles. "You're so wonderful, Y/N. I couldn't possibly love anyone else."

He reaches his destination at your core, and without warning, buries his face between your thighs, feasting on your juices. You gasp, bucking up your hips as he licks and sucks around your sensitive bud.

His hands grip your thighs apart, making sure you don't squirm out of reach on accident. Gilbert moans as if he's been praying for this moment to come, and it makes you feel perfect.

The moment you gather enough wit to control your limbs, Gilbert relaxes his hold on you, moving his hands all over your body instead. Revisiting old paths he's left unattended for far too long. He groans are every new luscious curve, his blood growing warmer at the idea of rediscovering you again.

"Gilbert..." you beg, panting with the struggle of not raising your voice too much and waking the baby.

Gilbert teases your entrance with his tongue, looking up to watch your reaction and smiling when he sees your cheeks flush a darker shade of red. He wishes to come here and finish every day like this, with your sweetness enveloping all of his senses.

Your body starts to tingle and tighten, and you warn Gilbert in a hasty whisper, closing your eyes in ecstasy. Your husband moans the moment you fall off the edge, hearing the contained whimpers you let out as you ride out your climax.

You brush his hair back and tug gently to let him know you've had enough and he sits up, cleaning his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, a triumphant look in his eyes as he smiles down at you.

"Like a fine wine," he breathes heavily.

You giggle tiredly, still catching your breath. Gilbert climbs back to your side and you roll to your side, he cuddles against you, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest.

"I wish to love you now," you mumble.

"Later," he says resolutely. "You're tired, and it's probably for the best if we take things slow. Do not worry about me."

"I do not worry, I love you."

Gilbert's smile softens, he tilts his head and kisses your hair. "That's more than enough."

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @aleksosoto @moonhoonie @thatonementallyillsimp @cedricisnotdead @mikaelsonwhxrebae @lavenderacademia @angelhugsaresweet @slytherinambitious @outofst1le @na1ven3vy @lucyk

[shirbertshitposts]

10 Shirbert Moments from Anne of Green Gables series I think about a lot

In honor of Valentines Day I thought I would post a list of some of my favorite Anne and Gilbert moments. It was hard to narrow it to just ten as I have been going through all nine books and trying to queue posts about all their iconic moments through the series; However I decided to pick the ones that I remember even when I haven’t read the books in a while. I didn’t have the heart to rank them properly so they’re just listed in chronological order.

1. His future must be worthy of its goddess

In the twilight Anne sauntered down to the Dryad’s Bubble and saw Gilbert Blythe coming down through the dusky Haunted Wood. She had a sudden realization that Gilbert was a schoolboy no longer. And how manly he looked—the tall, frank-faced fellow, with the clear, straightforward eyes and the broad shoulders. Anne thought Gilbert was a very handsome lad, even though he didn’t look at all like her ideal man. She and Diana had long ago decided what kind of a man they admired and their tastes seemed exactly similar. He must be very tall and distinguished looking, with melancholy, inscrutable eyes, and a melting, sympathetic voice. There was nothing either melancholy or inscrutable in Gilbert’s physiognomy, but of course that didn’t matter in friendship!

Gilbert stretched himself out on the ferns beside the Bubble and looked approvingly at Anne. If Gilbert had been asked to describe his ideal woman the description would have answered point for point to Anne, even to those seven tiny freckles whose obnoxious presence still continued to vex her soul. Gilbert was as yet little more than a boy; but a boy has his dreams as have others, and in Gilbert’s future there was always a girl with big, limpid gray eyes, and a face as fine and delicate as a flower. He had made up his mind, also, that his future must be worthy of its goddess. Even in quiet Avonlea there were temptations to be met and faced. White Sands youth were a rather “fast” set, and Gilbert was popular wherever he went. But he meant to keep himself worthy of Anne’s friendship and perhaps some distant day her love; and he watched over word and thought and deed as jealously as if her clear eyes were to pass in judgment on it. She held over him the unconscious influence that every girl, whose ideals are high and pure, wields over her friends; an influence which would endure as long as she was faithful to those ideals and which she would as certainly lose if she were ever false to them. In Gilbert’s eyes Anne’s greatest charm was the fact that she never stooped to the petty practices of so many of the Avonlea girls—the small jealousies, the little deceits and rivalries, the palpable bids for favor. Anne held herself apart from all this, not consciously or of design, but simply because anything of the sort was utterly foreign to her transparent, impulsive nature, crystal clear in its motives and aspirations.

-- Chapter XIX, Anne of Avonlea

2. For the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze

“What are you thinking of, Anne?” asked Gilbert, coming down the walk. He had left his horse and buggy out at the road.

“Of Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving,” answered Anne dreamily. “Isn’t it beautiful to think how everything has turned out . . . how they have come together again after all the years of separation and misunderstanding?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” said Gilbert, looking steadily down into Anne’s uplifted face, “but wouldn’t it have been more beautiful still, Anne, if there had been NO separation or misunderstanding . . . if they had come hand in hand all the way through life, with no memories behind them but those which belonged to each other?”

For a moment Anne’s heart fluttered queerly and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face. It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted, giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities. Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.

Then the veil dropped again; but the Anne who walked up the dark lane was not quite the same Anne who had driven gaily down it the evening before. The page of girlhood had been turned, as by an unseen finger, and the page of womanhood was before her with all its charm and mystery, its pain and gladness.

Gilbert wisely said nothing more; but in his silence he read the history of the next four years in the light of Anne’s remembered blush. Four years of earnest, happy work . . . and then the guerdon of a useful knowledge gained and a sweet heart won.

-- Chapter XXX, Anne of Avonlea

3. I just want YOU

“I have a dream,” he said slowly. “I persist in dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true. I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends—and YOU!”

Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words. Happiness was breaking over her like a wave. It almost frightened her.

“I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne. If I ask it again today will you give me a different answer?”

Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her eyes, shining with all the love-rapture of countless generations, and looked into his for a moment. He wanted no other answer.

They lingered in the old garden until twilight, sweet as dusk in Eden must have been, crept over it. There was so much to talk over and recall—things said and done and heard and thought and felt and misunderstood.

“I thought you loved Christine Stuart,” Anne told him, as reproachfully as if she had not given him every reason to suppose that she loved Roy Gardner.

Gilbert laughed boyishly.

“Christine was engaged to somebody in her home town. I knew it and she knew I knew it. When her brother graduated he told me his sister was coming to Kingsport the next winter to take music, and asked me if I would look after her a bit, as she knew no one and would be very lonely. So I did. And then I liked Christine for her own sake. She is one of the nicest girls I’ve ever known. I knew college gossip credited us with being in love with each other. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered much to me for a time there, after you told me you could never love me, Anne. There was nobody else—there never could be anybody else for me but you. I’ve loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in school.”

“I don’t see how you could keep on loving me when I was such a little fool,” said Anne.

“Well, I tried to stop,” said Gilbert frankly, “not because I thought you what you call yourself, but because I felt sure there was no chance for me after Gardner came on the scene. But I couldn’t—and I can’t tell you, either, what it’s meant to me these two years to believe you were going to marry him, and be told every week by some busybody that your engagement was on the point of being announced. I believed it until one blessed day when I was sitting up after the fever. I got a letter from Phil Gordon—Phil Blake, rather—in which she told me there was really nothing between you and Roy, and advised me to ‘try again.’ Well, the doctor was amazed at my rapid recovery after that.”

Anne laughed—then shivered.

“I can never forget the night I thought you were dying, Gilbert. Oh, I knew—I KNEW then—and I thought it was too late.”

“But it wasn’t, sweetheart. Oh, Anne, this makes up for everything, doesn’t it? Let’s resolve to keep this day sacred to perfect beauty all our lives for the gift it has given us.”

“It’s the birthday of our happiness,” said Anne softly. “I’ve always loved this old garden of Hester Gray’s, and now it will be dearer than ever.”

“But I’ll have to ask you to wait a long time, Anne,” said Gilbert sadly. “It will be three years before I’ll finish my medical course. And even then there will be no diamond sunbursts and marble halls.”

Anne laughed.

“I don’t want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want YOU. You see I’m quite as shameless as Phil about it. Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very well, but there is more ‘scope for imagination’ without them. And as for the waiting, that doesn’t matter. We’ll just be happy, waiting and working for each other—and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very sweet now.”

Gilbert drew her close to him and kissed her. Then they walked home together in the dusk, crowned king and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds of hope and memory blew.

-- Chapter XLI, Anne of the Island

4. Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you.

"Gilbert darling, don't let's ever be afraid of things. It's such dreadful slavery. Let's be daring and adventurous and expectant. Let's dance to meet life and all it can bring to us, even if it brings scads of trouble and typhoid and twins!"

Today has been a day dropped out of June into April. The snow is all gone and the fawn meadows and golden hills just sing of spring. I know I heard Pan piping in the little green hollow in my maple bush and my Storm King was bannered with the airiest of purple hazes. We've had a great deal of rain lately and I've loved sitting in my tower in the still, wet hours of the spring twilights. But tonight is a gusty, hurrying night . . . even the clouds racing over the sky are in a hurry and the moonlight that gushes out between them is in a hurry to flood the world.

"Suppose, Gilbert, we were walking hand in hand down one of the long roads in Avonlea tonight!"

Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you. You don't think it's irreverent, do you? But then, you're not a minister."

-- Chapter 9, Anne of Windy Poplars

5. Suitable Places

"(Are you sure you kiss me in suitable places, Gilbert? I'm afraid Mrs. Gibson would think the nape of the neck, for instance, most unsuitable.)”

-- Chapter 12, Anne of Windy Poplars

6. He narrowly escaped bursting with pride

"Anne, this is Captain Boyd. Captain Boyd, my wife."

It was the first time Gilbert had said "my wife" to anybody but Anne, and he narrowly escaped bursting with the pride of it. The old captain held out a sinewy hand to Anne; they smiled at each other and were friends from that moment. Kindred spirit flashed recognition to kindred spirit.

-- Chapter 6, Anne’s House of Dreams

7. Queen of my heart and life and home

"Gilbert, would you like my hair better if it were like Leslie's?" she asked wistfully.

"I wouldn't have your hair any color but just what it is for the world," said Gilbert, with one or two convincing accompaniments.

You wouldn't be ANNE if you had golden hair—or hair of any color but"—

"Red," said Anne, with gloomy satisfaction.

"Yes, red—to give warmth to that milk-white skin and those shining gray-green eyes of yours. Golden hair wouldn't suit you at all Queen Anne—MY Queen Anne—queen of my heart and life and home."

"Then you may admire Leslie's all you like," said Anne magnanimously.”

-Chapter 12, Anne’s House of Dreams

8.  Annest of Annes

But the best of all was when Gilbert came to her, as she stood at her window, watching a fog creeping in from the sea, over the moonlit dunes and the harbour, right into the long narrow valley upon which Ingleside looked down and in which nestled the village of Glen St. Mary.

"To come back at the end of a hard day and find you! Are you happy, Annest of Annes?"

"Happy!" Anne bent to sniff a vaseful of apple blossoms Jem had set on her dressing-table. She felt surrounded and encompassed by love. "Gilbert dear, it's been lovely to be Anne of Green Gables again for a week, but it's a hundred times lovelier to come back and be Anne of Ingleside."

-- Chapter 3, Anne of Ingleside

9. I couldn’t live without you

Anne felt like a released bird . . . she was flying again. Gilbert's arms were around her . . . his eyes were looking into hers in the moonlight.

"You do love me, Gilbert? I'm not just a habit with you? You haven't said you loved me for so long."

"My dear, dear love! I didn't think you needed words to know that. I couldn't live without you. Always you give me strength. There's a verse somewhere in the Bible that is meant for you . . . 'She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.'"

Life which had seemed so grey and foolish a few moments before was golden and rose and splendidly rainbowed again. The diamond pendant slipped to the floor, unheeded for the moment. It was beautiful . . . but there were so many things lovelier . . . confidence and peace and delightful work . . . laughter and kindness . . . that old safe feeling of a sure love.

"Oh, if we could keep this moment for ever, Gilbert!"

"We're going to have some moments. It's time we had a second honeymoon. Anne, there's going to be a big medical congress in London next February. We're going to it . . . and after it we'll see a bit of the Old World. There's a holiday coming to us. We'll be nothing but lovers again . . . it will be just like being married over again. You haven't been like yourself for a long time. ("So he had noticed.") You're tired and overworked . . . you need a change. ("You too, dearest. I've been so horribly blind.") I'm not going to have it cast up to me that doctors' wives never get a pill. We'll come back rested and fresh, with our sense of humour completely restored. Well, try your pendant on and let's get to bed. I'm half dead for sleep . . . haven't had a decent night's sleep for weeks, what with twins and worry over Mrs. Garrow."

--Chapter 41, Anne of Ingleside

10. Old love light

DR. BLYTHE:- “The old, old love light that was kindled so many years ago in Avonlea ... and burns yet, Anne ... at least for me.” 

ANNE:- “And for me, too. And will burn forever, Gilbert.” 

-- Page 189, The Blythes Are Quoted

Feel free to respond to this post with any of your favorite shirbert moments that I missed!

[seawolvesanddragons]

AWAE 25 Days of Christmas Day 16: “You’ve got a little something-”

      “Here we come a-Wassailing among the leaves so green!” Anne’s melodic voice echoed throughout Green Gables, it’s owner resonating in her solitude. Anne was a social girl, but she still appreciated her time to her own thoughts. She had spent much of her childhood in the company of her own self, and it was somewhat comforting to retreat into her own being at times. It also allowed for Anne to do things she normally would be asked to stop - such as singing Christmas carols at the top of her voice in the kitchen as she kneaded bread. 

Marilla, as she oft reminded Anne, was a fan of soft music. Not bellowing from the rafters. 

But with Marilla at Mrs. Lynde’s for tea, and Matthew out on the grounds, there was no one for Anne to bother with her singing - or to bother her. 

“Here we go a wandering, so fairly to be seen; Love and joy come to you, and to you a Wassail too-”

“God bless you and send you a Happy New Year,” a light, pleasant tenor joined in the chorus, causing Anne to jump out of her skin. She let out a yelp as she whirled around, the bread falling to the table with a thick thunk. 

Gilbert stood in the kitchen entryway, struggling not to laugh. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I did knock, but you didn’t hear me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” 

“I wasn’t frightened!” Anne protested immediately. And she hadn’t been - not really. She had been slightly startled, that was all. Who wouldn’t be, when someone snuck up on them in the kitchen. That was just poor manners. That was the only reason her heart was still racing - irritation. Not because she had been frightened, and certainly not for any other reason relating to Gilbert Blythe. 

Gilbert raised a brow in the infuriating manner of his, but he didn’t contradict her. “I just stopped by to see if you had any vanilla, Mary needs some for her Christmas Cake.” 

“Right, of course,” Anne dusted her hands off on her apron. “Marilla keeps it up here, so it’s less likely to get knocked off and break.” She stretched her hand up towards the top shelf. The vanilla had been pushed back a bit though, and her hand didn’t quite reach. Anne pushed herself up on her tiptoes, straining to grasp the bottle. 

“Here, allow me,” Gilbert offered, stepping behind her to help. Anne hadn’t given up her own attempt to grab it though and their arms bumped each other. Anne felt goosebumps rise up on the grazed arm. Gilbert was a half head taller than Anne, and his hands reached the bottle easily, plucking it down. 

Anne set her heels back on the floor, determinedly ignoring any part of her that would label such assistance gentlemanly. She turned away from the shelf, and found herself centimeters away from Gilbert. She hadn’t realized how close he had stepped when he grabbed the bottle. Looking at the wide-eyed expression on his own face, neither had he. 

“Is there anything else you - I mean Mary, needs?” Anne asked quickly, feeling a bit short of breath. 

“What? No, no,” Gilbert said hastily. “This was all she asked for.” 

“Right,” Anne nodded slowly. Dimly, she was aware that they should move, now that Gilbert’s errand was over, but her feet didn’t seem to be working properly. 

“Sorry that I didn’t let you in properly before,” Anne added. She hoped Marilla didn’t hear that story - it didn’t exactly put Anne in a good hosting light. 

“Oh, it wasn’t a problem,” Gilbert said dismissively. “I liked hearing you sing. You have a beautiful voice.” 

What in heavens name was she supposed to say to that? 

“Thanks. You do as well. Have a nice singing voice, I mean,” Anne said, feeling like she might sink through the floor in mortification at her mangled compliment. This was a disaster. A calamity of concerning proportions! 

“It always annoyed Bash, when I sang on the ship,” Gilbert smiled. “I’m glad someone likes it.” He gave a miniscule frown. “Hold on, you’ve got a little something-” Without a word of warning, Gilbert’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing the freckles under her eye. Anne’s breath caught. 

Gilbert seemed to only realize what he had just done afterwards, his eyes panicked. His hand dropped to his side as if it had been stung. 

“You - you had a bit of flour there,” he said weakly, clearly mortified. But he didn’t step back, or try to leave. It was as if he were rooted to the spot, unable to move, in the same enchantment currently leaving Anne locked into place. 

Up close, she could count every shade of green and brown in his eyes. Anne had always been aware theoretically that Gilbert was a handsome boy; she was friends with Ruby after all. But now it seemed to be hitting her all at once, like a tidal wave on the beach, knocking her down and sweeping her up again. 

“Anne?” Gilbert whispered, and hearing her name from his lips moved something inside her. 

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly, hesitantly. 

Then she drew back, and waited for his response.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled # 8647

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well suited the  child; and I could, my lord, of  jealousy has been  raveled and muttered leewardings,  samite sheet, at rest on? 

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Tartars and a ho,  and also, thou hast with  plain sae rashy, O, I  set me down wi right upward fire  made every 

wind that thou shalt see, doe  not in innocuous occupation.  Since, the while  they calculated  on that pity 

bought, I became of  foregone Reproach abode not  beg in vain you did exceed  the presently, the  silent round their life. Oh!

[anneshirleycuffbert]

the space between the letters: Jerry Baynard moves into Green Gables ft. unexpected mail (awae fic)

“This is... mine?”

The unbelief in Jerry Baynard’s trembling voice echoed through the room in which the Cuthberts were saying belonged to him now.

It wasn’t Anne’s room, of course. No one, however close to the Cuthberts, would be able to fill the physical and emotional void that Anne Shirley-Cuthbert opened when she left for Queen’s College.

Marilla would visit Anne’s gable on the particularly hard days. She’d make sure that no dust was collecting on the dresser, on the sentimental objects Anne had adopted throughout the years. On the days when her longing for Anne and the laughter and stories she’d bring to the kitchen table made it difficult to complete basic tasks, Marilla would tiptoe into Anne’s room and lie on the bed for a few minutes, inhaling the fading scent of her daughter in the sheets.

“Yes,” Matthew smiled shyly, glancing quickly at Marilla. “It’s all yours.”

Marilla said nothing, but she felt joy that they could provide something good for the boy who had eased so much burden from her family, most especially her younger but aging brother.

“I– this bed– it’s mine?” Jerry ran his hand over the soft cotton sheet that lay perfectly uniform on top of the mattress with a feather touch, afraid someone would wake him up from this wonderful dream.

“Yes. This room and everything in it, is yours. It’s the least we can give you, after asking you to live away from your family to help take good care of the farm,” said Matthew.

To help take care of us, Marilla thought.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jerry spoke with tears in his eyes, finally allowing himself to believe it. “I’ve never had a room to myself before. Thank you, Miss Cuthbert, Mister Cuthbert. Merci beaucoup.”

The Cuthberts were a blessing to him and his family. He was but a child when they had hired him to work on the farm, yet Matthew had trusted him like any other capable hard worker and trained him in the ways of farming. His first wage was spent covering overdue expenses his parents had accumulated since moving to the Acadian camp. Since then, his parents found good work and with their salaries combined, they made enough to support their large family, and then some. Jerry Baynard sought to repay the Cuthberts for how they’ve bettered his family in ways they’d never fully know.

“Well,” Marilla managed to choke out. “Don’t go thinking now that this room is yours that it is yours to neglect. I expect you to keep order in here, understand?” She meant to sound strict, to hide the tide of emotion threatening to bubble out of her chest, but the smile on Jerry’s face caused her voice to catch. “And I expect you to make your bed soon as you wake in the mornings.”

“Yes, of course, Miss Cuthbert. But I’ve never had a bed before, so I don’t know the proper way to make it after I sleep. Will you teach me?”

“I will. But pay no mind to it now, seeing as it is your first night at Green Gables, after all. Once you get situated and finish unpacking, you can join Matthew in the barn. Supper is in two hours, so ten minutes to I expect the both of you to be washing up and getting ready to join me at the table.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the two in unison as Marilla fled the room before she could do something foolish like cry.

“Now, you let us know if you’re in need of anything,” said Matthew, putting his arm over the boy’s shoulders. “Welcome to Green Gables, Jerry.”

“Thank you, Mister Cuthbert,” Jerry turned quickly to his mentor and friend to embrace him.

“Oh, no need to thank me, son. You’ve done us all mighty proud.” Matthew patted the boy’s back. He smiled at the observation that Jerry had much grown since he first came to work at Green Gables. “Well, now. I’ll let you unpack. Meet me in the barn when you’re ready.”

Alone in his room, Jerry looked around at the simple furniture that was most extravagant in his sight. A bed, bedside table, dresser, and a slightly cracked mirror that hung on the wall, which was more than he could ever ask for. He glanced at his reflection and briefly pondered what changes this next year would bring.

Jerry opened the dresser to begin organizing his clothes and things, and upon finding a shriveled flower in the top compartment, he immediately smiled at the thought of Anne. He hoped his dear friend was doing well at Queen’s and not feeling homesick, as he was beginning to feel now. He knew it would take a while to get adjusted to the quiet of Green Gables. At home, there were so many Baynards that silence was an odd luxury. He missed his brothers and sisters and parents, and Jerry wondered how Anne, such a boisterous soul, endured the quiet all her years here.

After supper, and after all was said and done, Jerry Baynard slipped into bed and had his first uninterrupted sleep in weeks. His youngest sister made it a habit to wake him up in the night to accompany her to the outdoor washroom, since she was deathly afraid of being in the dark alone. Jerry had faith that the sibling closest to him in age would take his place as little Adelyn’s protector from the darkness. That night, Jerry Baynard dreamed of Green Gables, Victoria (the new cow whom Jerry named after Victor Frankenstein), and a redhead in the forest who welcomed him with a bright smile.

-

It was seven in the morning, but Green Gables and its residents were wide awake. Marilla was baking up a storm in the kitchen, in preparation for the board meeting which she, Rachel Lynde, and Muriel Stacey would attend in four hours. She intended to use her plum puffs to mould the stubborn men into flexible clay. Rachel would be the potter, not her, mind you, for Rachel Lynde had a way of persuading people who had made up their minds they would not be persuaded.

Jerry Baynard and Matthew Cuthbert were working hard plowing a plot of soil for Marilla’s vegetable garden when Marilla rang the breakfast bell, summoning them to the kitchen.

After washing up, they took their place at the table and noticed Marilla’s gleeful expression for the first time.

“We’ve received a letter, Matthew. From Gilbert Blythe.”

“Gilbert?” Matthew shared a curious look with Jerry. “How is he?”

“Very well,” she grinned. “He’s asked us for permission to court our Anne.”

“Court?” Matthew’s eyes bulged. “Well, now. I thought he was going to–“

“He didn’t. He is now studying at the University of Toronto.”

“I thought he didn’t–”

“He does. Said so in black in white, in the letter. Here, see for yourself.”

“He didn’t think to ask in person?”

“All explained, in the letter,” said Marilla, extending the paper to her brother. “Read it yourself.”

Matthew waved it off. “I trust your decision.”

“Matthew Cuthbert, this is a serious matter that involves the both of us as much as it does Anne. We need to decide, together.”

“Well, now. I don’t know much about courting,” supplied Matthew weakly.

“But you do know our Anne,” said Marilla, aggravated. “It’s got to be our decision and you will help me write the reply letter to Gilbert Blythe, and that is final.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Jerry interjected, “what decision are you leaning toward, Miss Cuthbert?”

“Well, yes, of course,” smiled Marilla. “Gilbert Blythe is a commendable person.”

“If he’s so commendable, I wonder why you need my opinion,” Matthew mumbled.

Marilla ignored her brother. “Jerry, would you like to write anything to Gilbert?”

It was now Jerry’s turn to look surprised. “Me?”

“You do live under our roof now, so you’ll be seeing Gilbert around when he comes calling for Anne during their summer break. And, aren’t you good friends with Anne? Think on it, and let me know. All right, let’s not let the food get cold.”

-

After milking the cow Matthew had bought after finding later they needed more milk than they thought, and after feeding the goats, he finally read the letter in the kitchen. He read Gilbert’s request to court a flame-headed girl who rooted herself deep in both of their hearts and pondered hard on all the factors. The main one being Anne’s happiness.

Marilla returned from the board meeting and had just entered the house when she heard Matthew’s voice.

“My answer is yes.”

“Pardon me? Hold on a minute.” Marilla hung her shawl at the front and slipped her feet out of her boots and into her indoor slippers. Placing a basket that was emptied of all traces of plum puffs on the kitchen table, she looked at Matthew expectantly.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I suppose it’s alright for Gilbert to court Anne. My answer is yes.”

“It is?” Marilla fought back a giddy smile because Matthew looked so serious. “Really now?”

“Yes. They care deeply for each other and Gilbert’s letter– I read it. He loves her, loves our Anne. And... she loves him, too, told me so herself that day.” Matthew cleared his throat again, looking at Marilla hesitatingly. “So are we agreed?”

“We’re agreed. Thank you, Matthew. I’ll write our letter to Gilbert now.”

“Don’t write if your eyes are too tired,” said Matthew gruffly. “You’ve had a long morning.”

Marilla allowed herself a smile now. “So have you. I’ll be calling you and Jerry in for tea in an hour. Would you mind giving this to him?” Marilla handed a cream-coloured envelope to Matthew. “After reading Gilbert’s letter, I forgot about the second one the postman delivered. It’s addressed to Jerry. No sender’s address.”

Jerry Baynard had just finished collecting eggs from the chicken pen. He smiled at the remembrance of Anne and the fox she sought to protect and was startled when Matthew tapped him on the shoulder, almost dropping his basket of eggs.

“The postman delivered a letter. For you,” Matthew extended the mysterious envelope to Jerry, who now looked perplexed. He wasn’t in the business of receiving any letters.

“For me? From who?” Jerry stared at the letter in Matthew’s hand.

“No sender’s address,” shrugged Matthew. “Here, take a break. You’re due for one anyway,” Matthew said, taking the basket of eggs.

Jerry tentatively shoved the letter down his pants pocket before pumping a drink from the well outside. After drinking three pints of water and being unable to find more reason to delay opening the envelope, he fished it out and examined the elegant writing.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling stirring in his stomach, Jerry gently ripped open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper that had been folded delicately. His eyes widened as he read

To: Jerry Baynard

From: Diana Barry

-

At tea, Jerry was preoccupied with the contents of his old beau’s letter, so when Marilla asked again if he wanted to write something to Gilbert, he said yes without thinking.

Marilla handed him the letter she and Matthew had finished writing, along with a pen. Jerry snapped out of his thoughts then to address the Cuthberts.

“Did you give Gilbert Blythe permission to court Anne?”

“We did,” smiled Marilla as Matthew nodded slowly. “He plans to visit Anne at Queen’s and accompany her to Avonlea during one of the harvest weekends. We shall see him then.”

Jerry smiled at the thought of Anne being swept off her feet and experiencing romantic love, and of teasing her about her new beau. He only hoped that she wouldn’t be kin to heartbreak anytime soon. Knowing now what he wanted to say to Gilbert Blythe, Jerry’s brows furrowed in concentration as he picked up the pen and wrote as neatly as he could:

P.S. Félicitations, Blythe! Please say hello to AnnE for me. Take care of her good or I’ll feed you to my dogs. À bientôt. See you soon.

—Jerry Baynard

———————————————————————

wowowow I really am a clown

please read: I’m in the middle of exam season so I will be taking a brief hiatus from posting but let’s see how long I can resist going on tumblr lol  so I hope this tides you over while you wait for the next set of letters. do you kindred spirits want (1) Diana’s letter to Jerry or (2) Anne’s reply to Gilbert’s first letter? comment your preference if you have one so ik which I should post next!

index of this awae au/fic so far in chronological order (click to read):

Anne’s letter to Gilbert - #1

Jerry Baynard moves in to Green Gables ft. unexpected mail

The Avonlea girls take on Queen’s aka Cuffing Season

Gilbert’s letter to Anne - #2

click here to access the index to all my works!

[royalcordelia]

This Bed of Recall and Recollections (1/1)

Summary: Most of the time, it’s convenient to have your husband as your doctor, except for the times he condemns you bedrest. A very pregnant Anne decides to open her chest of old memories to pass her bedrest time. (A future shirbert drabble). 

Notes: Happy belated holidays @cresmix​! Here’s a little somethin’ somethin’ for you because you and your kind heart deserve it. This was a request that @shirberts-sherbert came up with, so thank you for the idea. (Also y’all follow me because I write well, not because I photoshop well, but I gave it 110%. Even if it does look a lil funky lmao). 

***

Anne knew there were bright sides to her current situation. The bed was impossibly soft underneath her, but stiff enough to support her weight against the headboard. She didn’t have to wear shoes in bed, either - an added plus. Just the thought of jamming her swollen toes into her dainty slippers as she had during the past several months had her cringing. 

You were given your imagination for times like these, she scolded herself. There are plenty of lovely things about being on bedrest. Why, I’ve had time to read all the books on my list, and then some! A bitter voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she’d read all the books on her list already - twice, some of them three times! Gilbert promised to bring home some new reading material soon, but he’d been so busy at his medical practice, that she’d long since stopped asking if he bore her any surprises. 

Now there’s a bright side worth thanking the Lord for, she decided. Not every woman, exhausted with the many weights of pregnancy, got to have her husband as her doctor. Anne argued that Gilbert was better attuned to her symptoms than any of his patients. Perks of sharing a bed with him, she supposed. There was no husband around with more compassion and love for his ever-glowing wife, even with the unpleasant oddities it brought to their relationship. 

But it also meant that when her blood pressure had spiked to dangerous heights, Gilbert had said with very firm stringency that Anne S. C. Blythe - Queen of Conquering Obstacles and Goddess of Fortitude - was condemned to bedrest. At least until the new member of the house arrived. When the decree had been made, Anne was wise enough not to argue. 

“Every time a man speaks like he’s got a sour cranberry on his tongue, it means he means business,” said Susan, their beloved housekeeper, to Mrs. Doctor Dear later that night. “And that you may tie to.” 

Anne knew her husband better than that, though. Gilbert’s word, of course, did mean business, but she knew that a tiny part of him still held onto a poisonous drop of guilt. Susan might have claimed to know the Doctor better than most, but Anne was the one that Gilbert laid his head upon, weeping into her chest that it was his fault their first baby had died. If I had just paid better attention...There must have been something I missed. How could I? My own daughter? Not even Anne’s softest touches through his hair or the honesty of her own unnecessary forgiveness could take away all of his remorse. When she’d informed him of their second chance, he’d been even more attentive than he’d been the first time. 

Thus, Anne was growing into a prisoner in her own bed. Her loving, caring husband, her jailor. 

With a sigh, Anne turned her gaze toward the window. Her soul sighed. It was golden hour, the most beloved time of day, when the PEI sun took a few moments out of its busy day to say hello to her. It always looked so sweet over the garden, the early spring buds glistening as if they had been touched by Midas himself. Against the bedposts, Anne tried to imagine the soft moss underneath her fingers or the richness of the soil of her flowers, but the mental image fell flat. 

Her window, though...Her window was only a few feet away from the bed. If she could just take a glimpse at the garden, maybe her heart wouldn’t feel so starved. 

The coolness of the floor felt wonderful underneath her heat swollen feet. With a careful hand behind supporting her back, Anne gently rose up for the first time in days. Her vision swirled, but she ignored the momentary vertigo and began to creep forward with astonishing stealth. If Susan heard her up on her feet, there’d be hell to pay, especially when Gilbert got home. Just as Anne was able to take a self-indulgent glance at her garden, a familiar voice broke through the bird-song silence. 

“Sweetheart, what on earth are you doing up?” 

Anne jolted, and she staggered like a drunken fool for balance. Gilbert was at her side before she could see him fly over to her, one hand in hers to keep her steady, the other against her back. She could sense a scolding on the tip of his tongue, but he bit his lips against it as he guided her back to bed. Settling at the edge of the bed together, Gilbert rubbed her knuckles with a tender touch. 

He could’ve begun his love-driven admonishment, but instead, he said, “A parcel came from Green Gables today. I stopped in town to pick it up.” 

Just the mention of home was enough for some of the weight on her shoulders to dissipate. Her gaze drifted from the wrapped box at the end of the bed back up to the hazel warmth of Gilbert’s eyes. He gave her his daily “ I’m home” kiss and helped her shift back into her perch on the bed against the headboard. 

“I know that bedrest isn’t the most stimulating activity in the world, so I asked Marilla to send this,” Gilbert continued, placing the parcel in her lap. 

“What is it?” Anne asked, though she had already started tearing the brown paper away. She gasped when she found the wooden box underneath, fingers grazing over the grained smoothness. “It’s the box I kept when we were in college.” 

“I remembered you had a memory box, but you never told me what was in it. I hoped whatever was inside, it could be enough to convince you to sit in bed.”

Anne lifted the lid away and the contents of box overflowed onto her lap. 

“It’s so full because I kept every single letter you sent me over four years. But there’s some sketches from when I asked Cole to teach me how to draw. Oh, and look, a few pictures too.” 

Gilbert settled at her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“If it’s every letter I sent you in college, that’s more reading than all of the Jane Austen books put together. We better start now if we want to finish by the time our new gentleman arrives.” 

Right on time, Susan rapped against the door with her elbow, a tray of tea and biscuits in her hands. 

“I put the tea on the stove as soon as the doctor came home. These are the last of the biscuits you like, Mrs. Doctor, but I’m baking more tomorrow. And there’s a piece of my cherry pie for you, Dr. Dear.” 

Anne grabbed Susan’s hand before she could walk away, and pressed a firm kiss to it. 

“You’re a blessing untold, Susan, thank you.” 

When they were alone again, Anne grabbed the first thing she could find: a letter. The bluish hue of the envelope and the familiar scrawl told her what she already knew. This letter had been one of the later ones she’d received during their fourth year of college. The blue envelopes had been Gilbert’s way of trying out professional stationary, and each letter was monogrammed at the top with the initials GJB. As for the nearly illegible scrawl of her name and address, that was a bad habit he’d picked up from his medical professors. 

“When did I send that one?” he asked, peeking over from his own reading. 

“The April of 1904. I remember it without even needing to check.” 

It took a moment, but Gilbert suddenly remembered what the letter said. He could picture exactly what his desk and room looked like the day he wrote it with the clarity of a photograph. Long lost in fireplace ash, there were several burned attempts that had come before the finished product that Anne know held in her hands. 

“This is a question I had every intention of asking in person, but I find my patience has evaporated with the months our of separation,” Anne read softly. “Say that there was a velvet pouch in my pocket. Say that it contained a peridot ring that my mother once bore on her own hand. (Breathe, darling, I’m not proposing over correspondence. What I mean to ask is - ) Would you find yourself open to the idea of wearing it in the foreseeable future? If there was a fellow who had a question to ask - a plead, a beg really - would you be ready to answer the next time you saw him?” 

The ring of his tender descriptions now rested on Anne’s hand, a little tight with her swollen fingers, but still glistening and lovely just the same. Gilbert took the hand and pressed a kiss to the stone that his father had chosen for his mother, the same stone that was a perfect green on his redheaded wife.

“Do you remember what I replied?” she asked, nuzzling her cheek against his touch. 

“Not exactly,” Gilbert admitted with a fond smile. “I think as soon as I read your response, my entire brain stopped functioning and I all but floated around Toronto for the next month.” 

Her shoulders shook against him as she chuckled. 

“What’s that you’re looking at?” Gilbert revealed the journal that had been placed in his lap. Its leather was the same color as Anne’s girlhood horse, Belle and was tied around the middle with a strap. “Ah, the proof of my stint with art.” 

“You were genuinely talented!” Gilbert argued. To prove his point, he flipped open the sketchbook to one of the middle pages. “This one is my favorite.” 

Of course it was, she thought with an amused smirk. He had skipped over the pages where she’d sketched pink carnations - briefly wondering if he recognized they were the ones he’d brought her during one of his visits - and focused on the page where Anne had drawn one of the Blythe-Lacroix apples. 

“Anne Blythe, Gilbert S. C. Blythe…” he read with interest. “If I didn’t know better, Mrs. Blythe, I’d say you were in love with me!” 

“Oh, be quiet. If I didn’t doodle my feelings like an infatuated schoolgirl, I’d have dropped out of Queen’s and transferred to Toronto.” 

“You wouldn’t have found arguments from me,” Gilbert said with a shrug. 

Anne nudged him with her elbow, but kept flipping through the box with interest. Mostly, she found letters. To his delight, it seemed that not a single one had been lost over time. Each one was a treasure, and she’d treated them as such. Some of his more romantic ones appeared to have more wear, as if she’d found them in her hours of loneliness and reread the words in his voice. There were tear smudges, small rips in the corners, memories of smiles, and residual pining that never actually went away. Some of Gilbert’s later letters admitted the way he’d desired her, craved her touch and counted the days before he could love her in the ways he was meant to as a man. It made Anne glad that Marilla had always respected her privacy. If Rachel Lynde had read those letters and found Gilbert Blythe longing to kiss the soft skin of Anne’s breast, she likely would’ve shipped the young girl to France or England herself. 

Lost in her amusement, Anne almost didn’t hear Gilbert sigh beside her. He held an old photograph in his hands, one that she groaned at the sight of. She’d sat for several portraits during her lifetime, but never before did she feel as unattractive as she did in the one he held.

“I ought to have just thrown that in the fire,” she commented. He gaped at her in surprise. 

“What do you mean? Why have I never seen this one?!” he exclaimed. His eyes roved over the picture, and suddenly he felt like the eighteen-year-old boy losing his breath at the sight of her. In the portrait, Anne wore a demure, neutral smile on her lips and wine red blossoms behind her ear. And her hair ...Gilbert suspected that if Aphrodite or Hera were really out there, they envied the ocean waves of her auburn hair. “Anne, this is breathtaking.” 

Anne paused before finally answering in a rush. “I originally planned to send it to you because you’d been asking for one, and I know how much you like my red hair so I asked the man to hand color for me.” 

“I think he did a fine job!” Gilbert added, still confused. 

“He did a fine job commenting on my hair, too,” Anne stated bitterly. “He said he never saw such salmon hair in all his years. Salmon, Gilbert. There was no way I could send the picture after that.”

Gilbert laughed heartily at this, shaking his head at the stubborn rage of his beautiful, impeccable wife. 

“Well, darling, what’s mine is yours, and what’s yours…” He snatched the picture from her hands and stuffed it inside his jacket pocket. “Is mine! I’ll be holding onto this in my own memory box.” 

Anne might’ve argued, but he rose from the bed with a kiss to her forehead. In any other circumstances, she would have followed him until she could reclaim what was hers, but that would’ve involved rising like Christ from her bed. If she owed her husband anything after all the years he’d stayed loyal through her stubbornness and her flares of anger, it was to heed his word and remain in bed. 

Still, with him gone, she missed his warmth and wondered if she might convince him to sit beside her just a little longer.

“You need to eat, my love,” he concluded. “I’m going to go help Susan with dinner. Drink some tea, alright? You need to be sure you’re drinking enough fluids.” 

“I’m hydrating for two, I know.” 

Right before he disappeared out of the room, he let his eyes linger on her - the loveliness of her white bed gown, the sunlight on her hair, the loving glint in her warm blue gaze. He could taste the words on the tip of his tongue, hundreds of I love yous that he could mutter with all the breath in his lungs. Instead, he exhaled a shaky breath and said, “Let me know if you find anything else of interest.” 

Anne nodded with a smile, finally looking the most comfortable she’d been in days. She reached back down to the very bottom of the box and pulled out the oldest letter she it contained. 

“My Anne, I cannot think of a more wonderful way to start a letter…”

[goldinavonlea]

WHERE do I even BEGIN?????

gonna put it under a cut because i have. lots of thoughts

I’m only going to do a rough take now and I’ll get pretty and clever with it later but the centrality of family to this episode but the specific way family was framed as a concept and what that means... exceptional. Truly, stunningly beautiful.

When Anne asks Ka’kwet the word for family, she explains that in Míkmawísimk, the term they use means ‘people I am connected to because we’re alike’ (which... just need to take a pause to say what an incredibly beautiful piece of language and—since language has such a profound affect on how we look at our existances—what an incredibly beautiful way of seeing it).

I felt like that formed the real thematic backbone of the episode: family not being nearly as simple as blood or something you’re born into, but something that can be fostered and created, something that can be found, which considering Anne’s history and the jounery she’s going on, is so incredibly beautiful and important.

I felt that the entire episode was giving us example of example of these bonds—these relationships of family through connection and similarity. The way Ka’kwet explained family really chimed for me with how Anne sees Kindred Spirits (which makes sense, since ‘kin’ is a term for family!), which is just one example of how Anne and Ka’kwet are immediately drawn to one-another, immediately alike in many ways and so there’s this instantaneous sense of family there.

I love that Anne was having a bit of a giggle over Matthew and Marilla’s similarities over dinner, but there’s an a slight undertone to it—she’s looking at the ways they are evidently family in a manner which doesn’t neccessarily include her. But there are so many ways in which the episode also makes her similarities to them—the ways in which she is so absolutely connected to them through likeness and in family—clear. I mean just watching Matthew and Marilla being absolute muppets to surprise her with that cake—Matthew with his book upside-down, Marilla straight up giggling to herself. They’ve taken in so much of her levity, her mischief and joy: they’ve become more like her, they’ve learned from loving her and changed in the process of becoming a family.

The same with Diana!! With her whole prank to get Anne over for the birthday tea—I mean can you imagine the Diana we first met in season one, who decalred herself to be lacking in imagination and who was so constrained by propriety, getting up to such hijinks? Purposefully yanking her neat hair out of its ribbon (about which I have two points: first, Di’s hair looked absolutely glorious down like that, she’s looking vital and lively and stunning this season; and second, the parallels of Di pulling her hair out to prank Anne, Anne loosing her ribbon and shaking her hair out on the horse, and Ka’kwet taking out her own hair ties she’d made to trade with Anne. Again, parallels are similarities, and similarity means kindred!)

NOT TO MENTION our girl kicking off at her parents about Queens using words like ‘supercede’, demanding her right to an education, slamming furiously away at her piano when she’s dismissed? God I have never been prouder in all my days, but again—she’s grown so much fire since meeting Anne, so much spirit and determination through knowing her. They are alike. They are family.

And with the girls from school in a wider sense too—there’s so much more ease there, a sense of unity and belonging and knowing of each other that lends a fluidity and familiarity to their interactions as a group which was frankly delightful to see (plus: Jane and Tilly both already have me cracking up this season which is wonderful because more of those two was something I really wanted to see). There’s no hostility there now, really—just soft-worn treads of exasperation and bickering which feels deeply familiar. They share the same stories, the same jokes. They have a Togetherness.

Mary and Bash were just... a fucking delight. A true joy. And again! The unity! The way they laugh together, share lines of thought, share such a sense of spirit and cheekiness. And of course they share an Actual Baby now which I will come back to I promise because that deserves space of its own.

And... look. Anne and Gil. If family, if kindred, is something made of things shared, of the ways people are the same, then one really can’t have enough of a giggle over the fact that they both, in the space of one episode, managed to have a moment of Putting Themselves Out There to the other only to be SPECTACULARLY shot down by the absolute MISSILE of the other being a complete fucking idiot. Like, to steal from Josie’s ‘too close to the sun’ comment to Moody (who remains, as ever, a Mood and a half), Anne and Gil each performed a truly impressive Icarus moment in the others’ presence this ep. Gilbert was Full On, Pedal to the Metal making allusions to their Future and Courtship and Marriage (he actually honest to god used the word Future in that conversation bless him, just bless his heart) and Anne just fires off a zeplin-felling, building-flattening rocket launcher of ‘you should really get on with it with Ruby’. And his whole 360 from being Absolutely Prepared to get in on this take notice thing, practically had Anne’s name written out already, to the screeching halt of Disaster Teen like ‘yeah I’m not really a take-notice kind of guy’ god I’m loving getting to see them just be Deeply Stupid Adolescents it’s... so enjoyable.

AND ANNE! Anne Shirley-Cuthbert! Madame! Was fully flashing back to Marilla’s ‘when someone loves you, then you’ll be kissed’ guidance because clearly her brain started to kick into gear when Ruby went off about the romance in his eyes and she just went ‘whelp the only possible way to get to the bottom of this is to corner him, give him a good Staring At, and see if he plants one on me’. Christ she’s iconic, just the monumental, fearless idiocy of that. I mean I’d thought a lot about what barriers there might be in place between Anne and Gilbert assuming from promo materials that they both had to be cottoning on at least a little bit to their feelings, and most of my thoughts were deeply angsty, but I didn’t at any point consider the most simple, the most obvious, the most hysterical answer which is that they’re just both absolute morons about this shit. Gilbert definitely being the greater moron though I mean ‘See ya’ YOU FOOL? YOU FOOL SHE CORNERED YOU ALONE TO BLINK AT YOU AND LEAN INTO YOUR SPACE YOU WERE PRACTICALLY READY TO PROPOSE JUST HOURS BEFORE WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK IS HAPPENING HERE?

Anyway how that ties into my original point on family/kindredness is that Anne and Gilbert are both precisely the same tone of Very Smart Person Who Is Also Catastrophically Stupid At Inopportune Moments and that’s why they’re kindred.

God he asked her if she’d forgotten what she was going to say, the pain I will feel until the end of my days that Bash was not there to witness that moment and tear literal shreds out of Gilbert for it it’s an honest to god tragedy.

which, coming back to our fave married couple because did i not promise???

the baby. THE BABY!!! Bash and Mary have a BABY they have a DAUGHTER her name is DELPHINE and Bash speaks to her in RIDICULOUS VOICES and apparently gets JEALOUS that he couldn’t help FEED HER! Mary carries her on her back and hangs out with Marilla thrice weekly (because Marilla wants baby cuddles) and Bash and Mary cooing over their beautiful daughter?? being desperately in love and so happy? i could scream i could SCREAM

Just the whole dynamic of the Lacroix-Blythe familiar unit broke into my home stole my heart out of my chest and I’m not even mad about it. Gilbert teasing Mary about bossing them about like their old boss on the steamer? the two of them sharing a What a Loveable Idiot Look re: Bash when Bash won’t stop talking to Delphine in weird voices? The ease and comfort with which they all exist in that space that was so sad before? and is now alight with joy and family? Gilbert kissing Delphine’s head and saying goodbye to her before he leaves for the day and mercilessly ribbing Bash on his way out? I’m gonna rewatch it I’m gonna rewatch that scene and literally if anything happens to this family I will scream I’ll SCREAM they’ve all been through enough they all deserve joy.

anyway it’s 3:00am and I’ve descended into nonsense so I’ll be back with a more thought out post (broken up into several because this is long as hell) when I’ve slept but in conclusion I love everyone (except, as ever, Billy Andrews) and I’m so so so happy to have this blessed show back in my life

[elysianrey]

tell me things you’ve never said out loud

[part 3 of it’s a slow cinnamon summer. read part 1. read part 2]

(a/n: okay...here it is. the final installment of this little series. thanks for joining me on this crazy ride these past few days! i’m not sure when i’ll get another chance to write for fun, but hopefully i will be nipped by the plot bunnies again soon. Anne and Gil finally get a resolution to this tension. And Gilbert is shirtless again... Enjoy!! xoxo Content T+)

Almost a week passed before Anne saw him again. 

It was not so much by choice, at least not to Anne, but rather they were needed for other responsibilities around their respective households. Matthew had caught a late summer cold, which led to Anne tending to his needs, while Marilla cared for little Delphine at the Blythe-Lacroix farm. When Anne wasn’t checking in on Matthew, she was out in the fields with Jerry and his brothers, who offered their aid upon catching word of Matthew’s sickness. The hard labor of weeding out the bad crops or nasty pests allowed Anne to direct her mind onto something other than the single topic it would revolve back to as she laid in her bed each night. Even the exhaustion from the day’s activities was not enough to weary her brain into a dreamless state of sleep which she desperately craved. 

For her dreams were where she slipped back into that sweet moment in the garden, or worse, entered new fantasies so vivid and lifelike, Anne would suddenly awake with a gasp, sweat beading on her forehead and along fair skin. She dared not tell a single soul about any of those dreams.

His lingering presence had intertwined itself so deeply into her being that she knew it was fruitless to try an escape it’s captive grip. Otherwise, she would be denying an integral piece of herself, as terrifying as the thought was to her. 

Marilla woke her before dawn on Saturday morning with the news that she would be baking and cooking most of the day for the church picnic tomorrow. She was quite beside herself because with watching over Delphine the whole week, she had completely forgotten the important event. 

“No worries, Marilla. I will take care of precious Delly today,” Anne reassured her comfortingly, her heart twinging anxiously at the prospect of the boy she was going to inevitably see. She needed to clear the air between them and make things right. 

Marilla let out a grateful sigh, “Oh bless you, Anne. For all that you have done the past days,” she replied, her arms drawing the girl into a hug. “Now off you go to get dressed. Bash mentioned that he and Gilbert were going to be up early to start pruning some of the apple trees in the orchard.”

Anne nodded, a suppressed smile on her lips as she turned on her heel to dress herself, which did not go unnoticed by Marilla. 

“Make sure Gilbert does not to overwork himself,” she called from the kitchen below as Anne hurriedly traipsed up the stairs.

“Will do!”

+++++

Anne gave the door of the Blythe-Lacroix home a gentle knock and waited patiently for an answer, rather hoping it would be a sleepy-eyed, dark-haired boy. Instead she was received by a groggy-looking Bash, who held a cup of steaming hot coffee in one hand and a fussy baby in the other. 

“Good morning, Anne,” he greeted, motioning for her to enter, and pushing the door shut behind them with his shoulder. “It’s nice of you to come.” His attention turned toward the squirming bundle in the crook of his arm. “Shhhhh--there, there Delly. Papa will be back for you soon. Your auntie Anne is here to spend some time with you now,” he cooed, rocking her softly and taking a sip of his coffee.

The redhead couldn’t contain the fond smile that broke over face at the endearing title Bash had dubbed after the countless days she had spent with them upon Mary’s passing and the consuming grief that latched on to Sebastian’s being. Although he was not quite the person she remembered before his beloved returned to her heavenly home in the sky, he was beginning to finally settle into a different type of normal. 

Anne stretched out her arms to take the baby, and Bash handed her off. “It is always a treat to spend time with this princess of yours,” she remarked lovingly, looking at Delphine with a sense of delight. 

She followed Bash into the kitchen, holding the infant on her hip, and observing him as he set his cup down carefully. “Blythe is out in the orchard already, crazy fool,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. Anne tried her best to keep her face of coolness upon the comment. 

“I’ll tell you Anne, the boy has been working himself to the bone lately. Can’t help but think something’s troubling him, but he dodges giving me a proper answer anytime I ask him about it. You wouldn’t happen to know what’s gotten him quieter than a church mouse, would you?”

A fresh wave of guilt overcame her as she bit down on her lip. “Uhhh...no...no clue,” she stuttered quickly, cursing herself for the unconvincing reply. She turned to begin making a warm bottle for Delphine as she searched for something more believable to add. “Maybe he’s worried about Queen’s?” she offered, picking up a glass bottle with one hand and setting it on the table. “I know I am.” This was true. It was a matter of weeks before Marilla and Matthew would be dropping her off at the school in Charlottetown and the remembrance of this fact made her heart ache in melancholy. 

Several beats of silence passed between them before she glanced over at him. “Hmm…’suppose you could have a point,” was all he said, his eyes wearing an expression of curiosity and his tone full of doubt. Anne had a feeling he could see straight through her deceit. “Well I best be going out to the orchard. We’ll be coming in later for some lunch. See you my Delly Welly!”

“Say ‘Bye Papa’,” she replied with a grin, holding up Delphine’s hand in a waving motion. Bash returned the wave with one of his own and then turned around to exit through the back door, Anne’s nerves rattling almost as loudly as the darn thing when he shut it closed. 

She sighed a breath of relief, turning back to finish her job with the baby’s bottle. His words had not been of a comfort to her in the slightest. The fault for Gilbert’s reserved behavior was entirely her doing, and to think, it could have been avoided altogether if she was not such a dunce when romantic feelings were involved. For an individual who spent a majority of her lifetime envisioning love and devising hundreds of stories filled with romantic dialogue and gestures, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert’s naivety toward navigating it in real-life was mystifying. 

The redhead spent the rest of the morning, reading stories, singing songs, and watching Delphine crawl around the house, constantly having to keep an eye on her since the little girl had a tendency to put everything she found in her mouth. By the time the afternoon rolled around, the baby seemed to have worn herself out, and Anne sighed in contentment when she fell fast asleep in her basket. 

Anne leaned her head on the wooden bench next to the baby’s basket and closed her eyes, intending only to keep them shut for a brief moment. Working in the field the day before and waking up early that morning had taken a toll on her. Not to mention the restless fits of sleep she experienced every night since Josie’s party. She would only rest for a few minutes longer…

+++++

When she awoke, the first thing she noticed was Delphine was gone. Anne jolted upright, her eyes scanning the floor around her, assuming she must have crawled right out of her basket. How long had she slept for? Muttering curses at herself under her breath, she pulled herself off the ground, smoothing down her dress as she went, and startled in a surprise at the person who sat before her. 

“Gilbert,” Anne breathed in greeting, her heart quickening its pace, then dropping down to her stomach when she fully took in his appearance. His muscular, tanned, and very sweaty, exposed chest was on display for her to gawk at from where she stood. He glanced up from where he was eating, and she averted her gaze down to her hands, which she was wringing together desperately in an attempt to regain her composure. 

“Anne,” she heard him say in acknowledgement, the sound of his voice like a cold glass of water on a dry day to her parched ears. 

She risked a glance back at him, his eyes still very much glued to her. “Delphine--I was looking for--” Anne started, suddenly recalling the missing infant.

Gilbert cut in before she could finish. “Bash took her out for a walk in the orchard. He told me he thought that you could use the break.” 

“Oh well that was kind of him, but hardly necessary,” she stammered, her face surely an unattractive shade of dark red. Gilbert took another bite of his food, leaving her to continue standing awkwardly across from him. 

Did he have no sense of decency? Of course it was boiling hot outside, but surely that did not mean he could not put his shirt back on when inside of the house. Especially with her being in the same room as him.

“Anne, you’ve been asleep for at least an hour. Bash and I needed the break. It’s hot enough to cause a heat stroke if you’re out there for too long today,” he informed her indifferently, going back to his food again and finally looking away from her. 

The girl chewed restlessly on her lower lip, the words that had been building up since the night of Josie’s party threatening to burst out of her at any second. “Gilbert I wanted---” she tried helplessly, her thought catching in her throat. His dark brown eyes lifted from his plate, a guarded expression to them. She had enough.

“I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to leave you without saying a thing about what happened that night. You have every right to be mad and hurt at me. In fact, I almost wish you would yell at me right now because I truly deserve it. You are a good person who is worthy of someone far more sophisticated and beautiful and coherent than me. I am no more than an intoxicated fool who assumed she had some right to kiss you and touch you,” Anne’s voice trembling with unabashed honesty for once, laying herself bare for him to see. “I miss you. Your companionship and wisdom. Your kindness and patience. For I know I can be as stubborn as a mule and hot-headed with my temper and brash with my words--”

“Anne,” Gilbert broke in before she could finish her lament of her worst features, which slightly annoyed her since she wasn’t done listing all of the reasons why he should be cross with her. He rose from his seat and walked toward her, leaning back against the edge of the table so they were only feet apart. Waiting nervously for him to speak, she chanced a glance down at the freckle on his chest, directly beneath his collarbone.

“I was hurt,” he admitted quietly. “You drive me mad sometimes, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.” His tone raised slightly and the copper-headed girl braced herself for his assault. This is what she deserved and she would take every insult he threw with acceptance. 

“But you Anne--you are the most sophisticated, beautiful, and coherent person that I know.” She could have sworn her heart stopped beating in her chest when she heard him utter those words instead. “You have been all of those things, and so much more, since the first day I met you,” he confessed reverently.  

His fingers reached out to rest cautiously on her chin and she lifted her head to look at him once more. This time, daring herself to hope again. She could see the softness returning to his face as she lost herself in the affectionate glow of his eyes. Her flesh erupted in goosebumps as his knuckles trailed up and down her cheek in a gentle rhythm, just like they had after she kissed him. 

 “I--I think I’m desperately in love with you Gil,” Anne gushed so openly that she almost smacked her hand over her mouth in shock. Perhaps he would run for the hills now after hearing such a bold declaration.

To her dismay, a low chuckle bellowed from Gilbert’s chest, then he was laughing to the point of hysterics, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes and running down his cheeks. Anne didn’t know whether to feel offended or content that this is how he chose to respond to her admission of love. “Are you sure you’re not the one who is drunk this time?” she mirthfully questioned, swatting him lightly on the arm. 

He regained his composure, pulling her into a close embrace as he grinned down at her, his cheeks dimpling and eyes crinkling in happiness. “Anne-girl, there has been no one for me, but you. The moment you broke that slate across my head, I was a gone man. Never would I have dreamed that you would ever--” 

Anne pressed her lips against his, silencing him, for she had heard everything that she already knew to be true deep down. Kissing him in his kitchen, the sun beating down heavily through the window, his hands steadying her, his heartbeat echoing her own, was everything she had ever wanted. She brought her fingers up into his unruly hair, this time feeling damp from sweat, but she could hardly care. His lips broke from hers and started trailing along her cheek then jaw then neck, leaving a searing mark on each inch of skin as he went. 

“Gilbert,” she sighed, her brain a blur of euphoria. She could feel his smile in the crook of her neck as he pressed another kiss to a freckle he was quite intent on appreciating. 

“Oi Blythe! Shirley!” The teenagers broke apart so rapidly Gilbert nearly toppled over the table. “What are you thinking, setting an example like this, in front of your poor niece,” Bash exclaimed loudly, bouncing the baby in his arms. “Don’t worry Delly, your papa will protect you from these two heathens,” he teased mercilessly, covering Delphine’s eyes.

Anne and Gilbert both released laughs of pent up awkwardness from the unexpected guest and gave each other timid looks.

“Next time, put a shirt on Blythe,” Bash declared, tossing him the one long forgotten from on the table. Gilbert accepted the item and pulled it over his head as Bash left the room, shaking his own head and smirking to himself.

+++++

Gilbert took the opportunity to walk her back to Green Gables after dinner, her hand fitting securely into the crook of his arm. Her head rested lightly against his shoulder. The pair chatted amiably about the events that had unfolded during the week. She recited a new poem she had learned for Matthew, and Gilbert gave her a sidelong look of wonder like he couldn’t quite believe that she was real. 

When they got to the gate in front of Green Gables, Anne was mournful to depart from him, despite knowing that they would be reunited tomorrow at the church picnic. 

“So---that tragical romance you mentioned back at Mary and Bash’s wedding...,” Gilbert started unexpectedly, his gaze intent on her from across the fence. 

“No longer remains to be seen,” Anne finished, reaching to stroke his cheek comfortingly. 

Gilbert let out a sigh of relief and ducked to steal another kiss from her before Marilla called out from the front door. “Anne! Is that you?”

They both laughed quietly at the older woman’s outburst. “I guess that’s my cue,” the girl lamented, taking his hand in hers, not quite accepting the events that conspired today were real.

“Goodnight my Anne-girl.” Gilbert gave her hand a squeeze, and let her go, backing up slowly, his eyes remaining on her as he went. Anne watched him blissfully until she heard Marilla call her name again. 

She spun around merrily and skipped to the house, her heart soaring with the knowledge that she was loved very dearly by Gilbert Blythe.

tagging: @hecksinki, @blarkeshirbert, @autummn-leaves, @ewolfwitchwisegirl, @leadingmehome, @melanneniel, @youcalledusremember, @neliel-deathberry, @blackxones BECAUSE YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST <3 <3

[bravebatgirl]

‘I Look Like My Mother’ (a preview of the new chapter of Anne’s unfinished story

Heya Kindred Spirits. Still salty over AWAE’s cancellation? Because same. There’s still so much more to the story of our beloved fiery red-head, and I’ve decided to write my version of what I believe will encompass the next chapter in Anne’s life. 

Here is a little snippet, a prologue if you will, to what will become a 15-chapter story posted on AO3. Please enjoy, and remember to keep tagging #renewannewithane on twitter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Gilbert,

I look like my mother. My goodness… Just writing that sets my heart alight; warms my soul to its very core in a way I would never have thought possible. You’re probably rather confused at how I came to realise I resembled my long-lost mother. I should offer further explanation as to how I acquired this knowledge.

Matthew and Marilla, bless their hearts, journeyed to Nova Scotia, all with the intent of meeting with an elderly woman who knew my parents personally. They recovered a book that my father, Walter, had gifted to my mother, Bertha, and my dearest Matthew and Marilla saw to it that it was once again in the possession of a Shirley. Me! The very last of the Shirleys. It was titled ‘The Language of Flowers’, and on the very last page was the most treasured gift I could ever ask for: a portrait of my mother, drawn so faithfully by my father. She looked so beautiful, Gilbert. So regal and wondrous.  Once, my freckled complexion, pale skin and, most grievously, my horrid red hair haunted me every waking and sleeping moment. Marilla called me vain for obsessing so over my disastrous looks, and she rightfully so. I placed far great an importance that necessary on my outer appearance, when it is the character that matters most. Yet, despite this, knowing that I share my mother’s own red-haired genes brought a new sense of gratefulness to me. For if I even share a fraction of her beauty, I’ll be quite content in never obsessing over frivolous things such as appearance again (plus, hers appeared auburn. Auburn! There is hope for me yet.).

Oh Gilbert, my heart has never felt so undoubtedly whole as it has this day; it seems as though all the jumbled puzzle pieces of my life are finally slotting into place. Along with this incredible revelation of my past, Diana is sleeping across from me and we are mere hours away from beginning the next chapter of our life together! The Women of Tomorrow, embarking on their educational endeavour side by side. Ruby, Josie, Tillie and Jane are also in this boarding house, just down from the hall from us. I feel so blessed that I get to continue my story with a comforting, familiar fragment of my past right by me, every step of the way. Entering womanhood seems less daunting when doing so with these girls.

Of course, another, very significant piece; one I never dreamed of acquiring, is you. I should tell you I have kept pinching myself ever since we bade farewell this after-noon. It still seems surreal, something of a figment of my imagination, that someone like you could ever be interested in someone like me. But it was real, wasn’t it? We finally stopped running away from each other and ran toward each other, finding each other in a twist of fate, time being on our side for once. My cheeks are currently aching from smiling so much. It’s a most welcome ache, though.

In regards to our follow-up questions, I’ll do my best to answer what I imagine yours may be, whilst asking some of my own. First of all, Diana relayed to me that you never received the letter I left for you. Oh, Fortuna, you do work in mysterious ways. While we may never know just how such a significant piece of paper was so heinously misplaced, I want to make it transparently known what its contents were…

That night in which you approached me at the ruins… I must apologise. I was the furthest thing from a clear mind – you can thank Moody’s moonshine for that – and I’m afraid I was rather thrown by your bold yet cryptic words. I’d been confused of my feelings since we practised the White Sergeant (though, if I’m being honest with myself, feelings had existed far longer than that), and I was still reeling from the startling divulgence at the fair that you were courting Winifred. Here was this young, intelligent, persistent man, one who had, in his own words, his future presented to him on a silver platter: the beautiful, elegant woman of high-class, the blessing of her father to enter a marriage, one that would ensure him the less-than-once-in-a-lifetime chance to study at the very most prestigious of schools. Here he was, the most promising future on one hand, and on the other… me. Who was I to stand in the way? Why would I even try to stand in your way? My response was panicked flurry of words, and I was so terribly confused. Yet, not long after… I came to the realisation that I no longer was confused, and my feelings toward you were so transparently obvious, it was as though they’d been written in the stars themselves.

I love you, Gilbert Blythe. I love your unwavering ambition, courage and persistence in striving to achieve everything your heart desires. I love the way you care so deeply for everyone close to you. I love how even though you can be daft at times, you fight for justice, and never judge a person unfairly. I love your handsome eyes and how they always seem to find mine. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it; and even though we are a thousand miles apart, I am more than prepared to make up for lost time.

Which brings me to the first of my follow-up questions: when did you first realise you had feelings for me? And to what extent are they currently? And finally… are we courting now? Is that something we can do from such a distance? I have many more churning in my mind, but I fear I have taken up too much of your time and far too much paper. I shall save them for our future correspondences.

Oh my goodness, would you believe that I have stayed awake until almost 3am?  I simply cannot wait to see what Queen’s has in store for me tomorrow, but I really must rest now if I’m to make an appropriate first impression. I’ve already a plethora of plans for making my place in this town; you may recall I told you I must be a relentless thorn in the side of those who refuse to amend the status quo? Well, my first order of business, along with getting acquainted with my fellow students, is to see what change can be brought about the treatment of the indigenous children at those poor, pathetic excuses of schools. I’ll indulge you further on my progress in later letters, but my first action is to write to ‘The Globe’ and inform them of this discriminatory injustice. Something must be done, Gilbert, and if no one else will make a stance, then I must.

I’m sure by the time this letter reaches you, you’ll have well and truly settled into your medicinal studies at Toronto; but nevertheless, best of luck, Future Doctor Blythe. Don’t let your academic drive slip just because I’m not there to provide competitive stimulation.

I wait in elated trepidation for your response, and am eager to hear just how extraordinary your new life is.

With highest sincerity,

Your Anne

P.S. Suitors are allowed to visit the parlour on Saturday afternoons between 2 and 4. If that knowledge interests you in any way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flower: Forsythia, represents Anticipation

[foreverandalwayscrysis]

HAPPY BFSN Y'ALL!

Okay, so. I had a post ready for the first bfsn and then of course life happens, so I forgot about it and then tried to post it from my drafts but does tumblr want to work?? nah. Gotta make a new one, which I ain't mad about, but like @staff really? it's 2020.

Aaanyways, long time no post!! I think my last bfsn was back in August or September? Which seems like eons ago, jfc, so much has happened. Here's a short update on my life!

I applied, got accepted, and did training for ScribeAmerica so now I'm an official ER scribe! I work with ER physicians and help create their patient charts & notes and we get to sneak into the doctor's lounge for free food (and coffee!!)

A few days ago I binge read all of @loreolympus and I'm having withdrawals so I'm definitely reading it again soon. In the meantime, enjoy those screenshots of Hades being plowed over lmaooo, poor guy.

MY BFF GOT MARRIED over the winter break and it was so emotional and wonderful and just the most amazing time getting to celebrate her and I cried a lot!!! Also, yes, we spent 4 hours making that backdrop in the second picture. Y'all won't believe how difficult it is to use safety pins on umbrellas, smh.

We've been so blessed recently with all of our Beliza content and I adore them and they deserve all the happiness and peace in this world 😭❤

I hope everyone is having a great 2020 so far (yeah I'm still not over that, 2010 was like last week) and I'm sending all the good vibes your way 💕

@talistheintrovert @clarkgriffon @fen-ha-fuck-you @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky @braveprincess @clarke-the-ferrari @leiaslightsaber @chants-de-lune @grumpybell @aainiouu @goddess-clarke @anne-shirley-blythe @shaeheda @goodqueenalys @swainlake @harpermacintyre @underbellamy @eyessharpweaponshot @shialablunt @captaindaddykru @clarkesbells99 @dealingdreams @nvermindiseeyou @choose-wonkru @hostagetakerandhistraitor @taco-bellamy @bellamys11thfreckle @wankadi @johnmurphysass @lameblake @ravensluna @babybellblake @frecklessbellamy @goldenheadfreckledheart @widonotts @clarkeygriffins @youovercomeit @nvermindiseeyou @youve-got-a-big-heart @commandermadi @bellofthesky @charmanderdiyoza @biconicclarkeyg @queenginnys @el-corazon-y-la-cabeza @scottmcgivemeacall @bellamyblakesass @captainwilldameron

[madamebaggio]

Notes: So I’ve done it.

This is my version of how the third episode of the new season should’ve been. There are spoilers from the episode.

I hope you like it.

***

She couldn’t handle seeing him like this. They might have their differences and she could name quite a few times she’d wanted to strangle him, but she never wanted to see him like this.

Well, she never wanted to see anyone like this, it was true. She was kind hearted and grief is something so terribly painful, but…

There was something about seeing Gilbert like this that made it even more painful to Anne. He was so good and brave, and seeing him falling apart like this, doubting himself and his choices, hurt her so much.

And the tears…

Obviously she wouldn’t be happy if she saw anyone crying, but Gilbert’s tears in that moment, just outside his house, scared of going in…

It was too much.

Anne hugged him because he needed that, he needed someone and she was there and she could do that for him.

She was surprised by how tightly he hugged her back. His arms were like iron bands around her, pressing her firmly against him, while she could hear his soft cries and know his tears were getting her coat wet.

Nothing of it mattered, no time or weather, and Anne had no idea how long they stood like that.

She pulled away minimally. “Gilbert?”

He rested his forehead against hers, like he was still weak and needed her support. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to say to them.” He admitted.

Anne felt dizzy for a moment, incapable of remembering exactly what she was doing there. For one endless minute the only thing she could focus on was him; his hands still holding her, his breath on her lips as he spoke.

She forgot what she was about to do for a whole minute. But then his tears reminded her of his pain and she just closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead gently against his. Just to give him strength.

“It is alright.” She told him, her voice hoarse. She cupped his face, used her thumb to dry his tears. “You’ll find the words.”

Gilbert nodded -the motion making their noses brush -and sighed. He finally let her go, but grabbed her hand as he walked up to his house.

*

This day had been bittersweet. Mary had gotten what she wanted so dearly, a sense of community and union, but…

Anne wondered if this was a blessing, the chance of saying goodbye to friends and family like this.

As things started to wind down, she saw Gilbert discreetly slipping away. She wasn't sure if she should go after him at first, but then she remembered his tears from before and her feet made the choice for her.

She found him by the side of the house, leaning against the wall.

“Are you alright?” Anne asked coming closer.

Gilbert straightened his posture immediately and gave her a weak smile. “I am. It was a beautiful day.”

“It was.” She agreed softly.

They stayed in silence for a bit.

“Thank you for this, Anne.” He finally spoke. “I know it means so much to Mary.”

“Oh. Don't thank me.” She shook her head. “It was a common effort.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Anne…”

“I'm serious!”

“Are you going to disagree with me?” He teased, a grin on his lips.

“I can't let you get too comfortable.” She tipped her chin up, spoke haughtily, but her smile let him know it was in jest.

Gilbert kept looking at her and smiling. “And thank you for the other day. The hug.”

“Oh.” She could feel herself blushing. “You're welcome. You looked like you needed it.”

“I did.” He agreed. “Can I…” He suddenly looked uncomfortable, and cleared his throat.

“Yes?” Anne encouraged softly.

“If it's not too much trouble…” he rubbed the back of his neck, his own cheeks getting red. “Could we hug again?”

“Oh! I… Yes, of course.” Her voice came out way too cheery, and she winced internally. “What are friends for, right?”

“Right.” He agreed immediately.

They had a awkward moment when neither knew exactly how to go about an arranged hug, and they had to coordinate where their arms should go. But soon they were back to the same place they had been before, and -probably because of the lack of tears - it felt different immediately.

Anne could feel him better; his warmth, his smell and his solid body. It all made her blush harder and she could guess why (even if she wasn’t ready to admit it).

It wasn’t as desperately tight as the previous hug had been, but it somehow felt more comforting.

She didn’t know how long they stood there holding each other, when Gilbert spoke. “I was worried you’d think I was too forward last time.” He admitted.

“Why?” Anne asked confused, pulling back a little.

But, like the other time, Gilbert didn’t let her go. “We stood too close.” He reminded her. “Like now.”

Yes, they had and they were, and -just like before- Anne felt dizzy. However this time there weren’t tears or sadness to think of; there were only his eyes on her eyes. When he rested his forehead against hers it was the same as before but still so different.

“Anne…”

She didn’t know what came over her; she just pushed on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. It was a voice deep within her that urged her to do so; a calling, like a siren’s song that seemed to come directly from his lips.

Anne had often read about kisses; a thousand poems and novels, but she’d never imagined it would be this soft and this sweet.

She felt Gilbert’s hands grabbing fistfuls of her dress as he melted against her, his lips becoming even softer under hers.

When they pulled apart, Anne could swear she saw the whole sky in his eyes and a whole story on the lines of his lips.

Oh no. She was -madly, deeply, truly-in love with Gilbert Blythe.

[theshirbertstory]

Season 3 Ep 8

reaction and thoughts

once again I write this while journeying home, so that I can start watching immediately

IT’S THE EPISODE WHERE THEY SIT NEXT TO EACH OTHER AT MS STACY’S AAAH

this is long and unfiltered with lots of emotions so beware hah

okay here we go:

KA’KWET MY POOR GIRL I SEE YOU. did she run away? TELL ME SHE’S SAFE. THE BARREL. they gave guns? GUNS? she hit the kid. poor kid. She manages to leave, aah thank god.

The Anne and Diana encounter is so sad and they’re avoiding each other

THE SCHOOL. OH WAIT THE SCHOOL. IT DID BURN DOWN after all. all the kids are so sad. stupid cowARDLY MEN.

she’s running?...to Mrs. Lynde. but did she have anything to do with it? OH WAIT SHES BREAKINF DOWN NO. yes Mrs. Lynde go after them

Ka’kwet! I have such a bad feeling about this. please don’t let her be caught.

Bash’s mother aaww. I kinda like her already.

THEY'RE AT MISS STACY’S YES. Ruby and Moodyyyy are cute. GILBERT AND ANNE. HE ASKED FOR HER PEN AAAH.

THEY'RE HAVING AN INTELLECTUAL CONVERSATION AND IM HERE FOR IT AAAH.

are you going to the Sorbonne? IS THAT FORESHADOWING? WHAT IF HE DOES

Marilla and Mrs. Lynde are an iconic duo. HAVE I MENTIONED I LIKE MRS. LACROIX? wait do I? she’s kinda nice

BEING ROMANTIC? WITH WINNIFRED NOT ANNE. HOLD UP LEMME WATCH THIS IN SILENCE.

ANNE IS SO UNCOMFORTABLE THROUGHOUT THIS. AAAH AANNEE.

Diana is waiting. For Jerry? aaah I hope she fixes things.

I TAKE IT ALL BACK. DIANA NOOOOO. JERRY MY POOR BOI DONT TAKE IT TO HEART. D I A N A ?? WHO ARE YOUU.

Aunt Josephine, thank god. IS SHE GONNA HELP DIANA? lol her parents are so taken aback

SHE IS HELPING HER. YES. DIANA TAKE THE EXAMS. of course she’s not listening to her. at least Aunt Jo is doing her part. DIANA YOU BETTER LISTEN TO HER.

The Lacroix-Blythe family scene is sad and funny at the same time. It’s sad that she thinks she’s meant to act like that. Great now Bash is sad too.

I can’t tell how I feel about this episode.

ITS EXAM DAAAAYYYY. LOOK AT MARILLA AND MATTHEW BEING SO SUPPORTIVE

Ka’kwet. I’m so scared. So so scared.

The Barrys look uncomfortable. IS SHE GOING FOR THE EXAM? She better be.

love all these nervous children they’re so cute. Jane is me during exam days. YES DIANA.

ANNE DOESNT HAVE A PEN. GILBERT TOOK HER PEN.

Mrs. Lynde said damn hah.

WHY ARE BASH AND MISS STACY TOGETHER. NO. THIS BETTER NOT BE WHAT WE THOUGHT IT WAS. I have mixed feelings. No. Yes. NO. NO.

Are the kids celebrating? THEY'RE GRADUATED. THE LITTLE BABIES ARE GRADUATED.

at Winifred’s? what so she is rich of course. SORBONNE. IM TELLING YOU HES GONNA BE GIVEN AN OPPORTUNITY TO GO

wait. Or maybe he’ll realize what he has with Winifred is considered serious and he’ll run away.

WE HAVE A FLAT. WINNE LIKES PARIS? BLESSINGS? BLESSINGS NO.

hakdbjwe why is Gilbert still sitting there

are the kids drunk? but they’re having so much fun. WHO LET THEM DRINK lol. They’re so tiny :(

IS THAT GILBERT? THAT'S GILBERT. Anne’s doing a weird laugh hah

SLOW MOTION. WAIT. SHHH EVERYONE SSHHH

YOU GUYS. I PUT DOWN MY PHONE FOR THIS. YOU GUYS

IT HAPPENED

IT HAPPENED. WHAT'S HOLDING YOU BACK

AAAANEEEE. YOU ARE. YOU.

SHE WAS SO CONFUSED. BUT SHE DIDNT TELL HIM WHAT SHE FEELS.

YOU GUYS

G u y S

AAAH

HED PRACTICING TO PROPOSE. NO NO. NOT WINIFRED.

parallels. there’s parallels.

HES HOLDING A RING AND SHES HOLDING THE DICTIONARY. AT LEAST THE DICTIONARY CAME BACK

She’s asking aunt jo. AUNT JO I LOVE HER.

‘He asked if I love her and I asked to marry someone else?’

GUYS WHAT IF GILBERT ALREADY ASKS WINNIE BEFORE ANNE APPROACHES HIM

Anne having an existential crisis is so relatable. ALTHOUGH I hope this talk doesn’t make her think she should let him go

Yes WHAT IF IT'S TOO LATE. NO TRAGICAL ROMANCE. GO TALK TO HIM.

I don’t think i can watch this household again. Aaaah I feel bad for her.

NO. GILBERT. NO. BASH TALK SOME SENSE INTO HIM.

lol Bash said yes

WAIT HHAHAHAHAAB HE MENTIONED ANNE AND BASH IS DANCING

BASH IS SUCH A SHIRBERT SHIPPER AAAH

bash tell him to stay. STAY. yes instill those doubts. aah :( NO SHES NOT YOUR FUTURE

Why is it that bad things happen to good people? HAHHAHAAH. SINCE WHEN IS MARILLA SO CLEVER

attack them Mrs. Lynde. Attack them. NO NEED TO BE HYSTERICAL. HAHAH YES. YES. Playing to her strengths I love it.

THREE WOMEN TO THE BOARD. YES. PLEASE. GOOD JOB.

you guys Ka’kwet won’t make it will she? EPISODE 9 IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT SAVING HER. THIS IS TOO EARLY.

WAIT. SHE DID. SHE MADE IT. OH GOD TGEYRE GONNA MAKE ME CRY.

DOES THAT MEAN THEYLL SAVE THE OTHERS

who knew Minnie May would be the one who makes Diana see sense

Marilla’s so proud of herself aww

DIANA. YES. FIX THINGS YOU GUYS.

THE BOSOM FRIENDS ARE BACK TOGETHER ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD

Anne still hasn’t decided aaah.

WAIT WHAT

WHAT

WHAT WAS THAT ENDING

SBEKNWONRK AAAAAH

SHES IN LOVE WITH GILBERT BLYTHE AND SHE KNOWS IT AAAH

after I recover from this, let’s talk about how she’ll probably be too late. And all this agony was for nothing. Not now. Later

I am processing.

[poli9048]

Part 2

"Righteous Christian"

It was after ten when Chris returned from Oprah's party. This time was especially pleasant to the young man: the foggy empty streets, filled with the echoing silence of the night, opened up space for thoughts and feelings. He couldn't get the image of the girl sitting on that small wooden nightstand out of the mind, how she's looking at Chris's face, scared from sudden and completely incomprehensible feelings, with a fervor in her eyes. The young man right now wanted to turn around, go into that house and press Leia to that hated for a few seconds nightstand, kiss so that the lipstick smeared the face, smears lay on the neck area. It was like she was a canvas and Chris was an artist, but it was just the opposite. This Frenchwoman made him change his emotions like the colors of a palette, mixing shades that had never been seen before. Sarah quickly faded into the background, the captivating scent of her perfume Chris no longer felt near, rather, did not want to feel near. In his mind's eye, he could smell the familiar scent of French lavender shampoo.

The Windows of his house were always warm with chandeliers with beautiful antique shades - mother loved things from flea markets and antique stores, so all the rooms were filled with old decor items bought for a few dollars. The front door was slightly ajar. Quite unusual at this hour of the night. He entered the house and smelled the sharp smell of alcohol.

-Mom, dad, I'm home!"

Chris walked down the hall. His father, Mr. Morris, was sitting in the living room watching TV, paying no attention to the images that flickered on the screen. His eyes were fixed blankly in front of him, his lips were muttering involuntarily, and with an exhausted hand he was furiously pulling back his hair.

-What's wrong, dad?-Chris asked carefully. At the sight of his father, something inside him shrank and sank-obviously nothing good was to be expected.

-Your mother... She... She's - " Mr. Morris gasped, his throat constricting. His speech was incoherent, his eyes wild, and his hands were shaking. - She got sick... Badly... With heart..."

-Where is she?-Chris could hardly believe his ears.

-In the hospital-having drained already not the first in a row a glass with alcohol, the father began to sob hysterically.

There was no point in asking him what hospital his mother was in, just as there was no point in running to it. The only facility that Mrs. Morris could have been in was Blackpaines, a hospital on the outskirts of Blackpain, a suburb of Seattle. The hour was late, and of course no one would let Chris into the room, and the attending doctor would not come until the morning.

After such news, the native bed seemed like a lot of small needles, digging into the body with every movement and thought. Chris didn't sleep a wink, trying all night to figure out if what he'd heard in the living room was a figment of his imagination after a cocktail, or a new problem in the Morris family's life. He stared ahead with slow, suffering eyes, letting his thoughts and images take him deep into his subconscious.

The boy remembered the taste of lipstick on his lips, hot breath in the area of the chin. A white cloud of smoke that had something in common between them faded into the darkness of his hair and fell over his lush lashes that covered his emerald eyes. After a little digging in the back of his mind, he remembered where the insolent neighbor had left a pack of thin cigarettes. His hand found a thin dark box with nicotine bundles inside. She didn't smoke American cigarettes; her brother sent her several blocks of French Marlboros. His gaze skimmed over the inscription; Chris had not studied French, and the young man simply could not hear this speech from someone other than a girl. The lighter was carefully placed in the same pack, so it was not difficult to smoke.Opening the window wide, Chris exhaled clouds of white smoke that disappeared into the night. The sky was surprisingly starry - the next day promised to be warm. His father was probably still sitting in the living room; there was no slamming of the door, no heavy footsteps. It's amazing how the absence of one person can turn a house into such an apathetic and dreary place.

Night gradually gave way to morning. The sky was lit up with timid sunlight, the ground was covered with a semi-transparent fog, and the air smelled fresh. The neighbor has already gone for a walk with the dogs, and the rest of the residents have started to get ready for work. It wasn't a very long walk to the hospital: ten minutes and you were there. Chris couldn't wait any longer and went to his mother.He saw streets that smelled of autumn rain, a few sluggish stray dogs, and houses where people were gradually leaving. Does this city wake up so early? The lights were on in the hospital, and a pleasant woman in the waiting room quickly ushered the young man into the cardiovascular surgery Department.

The room smelled of medicine and hope for the recovery of a loved one. His mother was sleeping, breathing steadily. Chris stared at his own face, and fragments of memories flashed through his mind: how she had taught him to ride a bike, carefully treating endless abrasions; how she had read him bedtime stories as a child - he loved the mysterious, fairy-tale, fascinating sound of her voice; tender warm hands stroking his head during a difficult school period; the way she gathered the whole family to spend an evening playing board games, invited neighbors to her birthday, which coincided with Independence day in a pleasant way. Chris found it hard to believe that this could be happening to her. Even more difficult was the thought that he was in danger of losing her. Forever.

The idyll of mother and son was disturbed by the creaking of the door, and a heavy man in a white coat entered the room.

-Good morning,-he greeted Chris and hurried to introduce himself.- I'm Dr. green, the attending physician, Mrs. Morris. Who am I dealing with?

-Kristoffer Morris, her son,-the young man said shortly. After a sleepless night, there was no strength to go into lengthy explanations.

-Nice to meet you,-Mr. green said, giving Chris a quick handshake while commenting on what had happened. "This is her second heart attack - not as severe or devastating, but you know, her body is already weakened.

Chris frowned.

-What are you implying?

-I mean, everything is stable now, but the medications that keep her stable need to be bought, and they are expensive. There may not be a strong need for them, but this is not guaranteed. Who knows what will happen next month, right?- Mr. green patted Chris gently on the shoulder and, after checking the readings on the device monitors, left for his morning rounds with his patients.

***

"Lord Jesus Christ, our God, bless us with food and drink through the prayers of Your most pure Mother and all your saints, for you are blessed forever and ever. Amen" the father's lips quickly whispered the usual prayer, after which the Brossard family members let go of each other's hands and began to eat. The dining room was filled with the head-spinning aroma of French cuisine, which Leia's mother adhered to, despite the fact that they had long left their native country. Mrs. Brossard sliced the chicken in a smooth motion and spread it out on the plates to match the clock on the wall.

-Lea, my mother and I have a favor to ask of you,-Mr. Brossard said, slowly turning his mirrored gaze on his daughter. It was probably only because Leia's father was a clergyman that she was tolerated by the school administration, because no one wanted to quarrel with the Confessor - especially the religious people, who were most of the older population of Seattle.

-I listening to you- Leah looked questioningly at his father.

-Our neighbors, the Morrisons, have family problems. Emily is in the hospital, and we have to help Chris while his father is away. Therefore, if he needs help, never refuse, you are a good girl, a good Christian-the father smiled gently from the corner of his lips.

***

The need for money for his mother's recovery made Chris think about work. The only thing he was good at was photography, so he decided to try to get a job at a local newspaper and went to the office the next day. Outside, the rain continued to fall, as if responding to the anguish that was tearing at Chris's soul.

The young man fidgeted with a battered portfolio - an old folder of his father, in which he had pasted several printed photos.

-May I come in?-he tapped steadily on the office door and went in after a soft "come in".The young editor-in-chief stood at his Desk, his black tie stretched at the neck, the collar of his ironed shirt unbuttoned, and a loose jacket over his broad shoulders. He was Smoking a cigarette, studying the latest issue of the newspaper. -Hello, Mr. Blythe.

-I'm listening- he said, looking Chris up and down, then stubbed out his cigarette and abruptly folded the newspaper.

- My name is Christopher Morris,-the young man began.-I'm a photographer, I'm looking for a job and I would like to get a job at your newspaper.-He handed the folder to the editor, but the editor did not move to take it, and only sneered.

-I'm sorry, friend, but we don't have a Union or a job center, and we don't need workers,- Mr. Blythe said, squinting and pulling a smug smile.

-At least, take a look at my work poi o-Losing his composure and completely forgetting about the need to make a good impression on the employer, Chris shoved the portfolio directly into the hands of the editor. He looked at Chris's work arrogantly for a while, turning the pages quickly and clearly trying to get rid of the annoying young man as soon as possible.

-The work is completely mediocre,-Mr. Blythe said at last.-I don't have instagram with a selection of aesthetic images for teenage girls. But as compensation for the time spent, I will take one photo from you.- he put one photo back in the Desk and handed the folder back.

Chris was filled with anger and resentment, but at himself, only at himself for the fact that the person closest to him needed help more than ever, and he could only imagine the rustle of bills in his hands, no more. Flipping through the portfolio, which now seemed like a useless collection of pictures, Chris discovered that Mr. Blythe had taken one of his favorite photos. A typical image of Leia from behind - it was one of the usual evenings when She came to smoke with him. Her hair was a little longer then, and she was facing the window, and the full moon shone on the curve of her back, the thinness of her shoulders, and the sheen of her hair.

[mayapenelopeclutterbucket]

Thoughts I had while watching TGD 3x08 “Moonshot” aka this has been sitting in my notes forever everything just seems like too much effort I’m sorry 😭 please love me still

Ok so idk if anybody missed me but I did miss you all and im baaaack baby!!! So i was planning on just summarizing my thought after watching the ep because i wanted to eat while doing it lmao but i couldnt RESIST and already had so many things running thru my head. I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA everything these days just seemed like too much effort y’know, life and work and everything else but now i am forcing myself to starting this up again because I enjoy doing this and sharing my unimportant and mindless thoughts with you guys. THank you to everyone who asked about me sorry i haven’t replied (that depression kicked in) but I will go thru and respond, i love you guys!! Okay enough rambling (but would it really be me if i didn’t) and lets get onto the show

Sharly moment was going too cute and going too well why do i feel like by the end of this ep they’re going break up or something 😩

#buildupforabreakup with melendez god bless but i still don’t like neil fucking telling audrey she needs to take some of the blame 🙄🙄

So I already knew melendaire was going to work together and have a cute moment thanks to the lovely @gilbxrt-blythe but I DIDNT FREAKIN KNOW THAT IT WOULD JUST BE THE TWO OF THEM

And yay morgan finally gets her first lead surgery but I’ve seen the promo pics and she has glassman check her out so i swear to god if my bby has carpel tunnel or arthritis imma SUE

Side note still eating while i watch so we’ll see how well this goes lmao

Wow i feel like its been freaking forever since I’ve seen melendaire one on one with each other how beautiful 😭 and I don’t think I’ve ever seen them along together in the autopsy room

My food is geting cold but IDGAF with this blessed melendaire content I’m getting omg soooo cute talking about what they wanted to be when they were little I caaaant

Claire looked impressed by melendez’s idea 👀

And who would’ve thought you guys dating while she’s your boss would affect your judgement certainly not the hr lady or anyone else god help us

Is a l*mlendez breakup finally on the horizon

Uh oh is shaun going to breakup with carly because he considers her a “distraction”

I’m glad morgan finally has someone who believes in her and showers her with compliments

But i dont like that its asshole andrews ngl

Melendez not being confident is just weird he’s second guessing EVERYTHING

Who knew sharly working themselves up to sex would be cute

Why do i feel like once i go thru the tag I’m about to see a bunch of carly hate and people being like i told you so. I get where carly is coming from she just want shaun to be happy and comfortable and tries continuously to make sure that happens and make it work but like she said shaun gives up but i don’t like the mindset either that what she does is a chore and that she wouldn’t have to go thru this with someone who is neurotypical like her and i don’t like the pressuring of shaun having sex because yes he wants too but its not just a black and white situation and I’m tooooorn

Park being so worried shaun only lasted 8 seconds before he came is too fucking much 😂

Park being encouraging to shaun is pure but I still miss jared man plz bring him back

Lmaooo the place where l*mlendez is having their fight is where claire flirted with melendez

Keep up with the #buildupforabreakup PLEAAAASE they’re trying to hide their relationship but are publically fighting and raising their voices at each other SUBTLE

I really wish it was claire giving shaun these heart to hearts the lack of shaire content is desgustang

like the writers act like they ain’t even fucking friends

Of course why can nothing ever go well for anyone so I was right and morgan has arthritis 🙃

So one of y’all are really thinking of leaving to stay together PULEAAZE yall are not that serious so heres a wild idea BREAKUP

Wow what the fuck got my hopes up for a l*mlendez breakup and melendez tells her he loves her 🙄🙄 ON THE MELENDAIRE BALCONY NOW ITS TAINTED but she didnt say it back so 👀

She realizes she just told the president of the hospital she has arthritis right like what’d she think was going to happen

Wow negligence left and right at st. bonaventures

And now lim and melendez are having a moment ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

And that scene with the leukemia doctor hit a little too close to home for me

Yes yes yes it looks like lim is gonna break up with melendez god bless 🙌🏼🙌🏼

So on one hand lim said she loves him but on the other hand she said its not enough 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Ngl tho had the an inkling this would happen because I saw on twitter that christina chang replied to the tgd writers account when they posted a “💔 l*mlendez” and said there the ones who could change their fate so i have hope they will not get back together and if they do they won’t last because neither of them can be objective and oh yeah DON’T MAKE SENSE and have no chemistry

Yay sharly is still alive and kicking

And oh no morgan bby are you still in pain 😩

Oh my god carly and shaun are air holding hands again while lying in bed

Hmm wow okay I knew claire would still be having drama because I saw the promo pics but i did not really expect this, melendaire group chat speculated on that first guy she slept with being worried him being married would come back to bite her but i did not think she would make it a pattern and not care about the consequences of sleeping with someone who’s married. Yes it takes two to tango but we all know this isn’t normal for claire to act like this and self deestructive so is this finally going to be her wakeup call or will she keep spiraling and we’ll get a cliffhanger in the mid season finale involving her and her actions/choices ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ only time will tell

Okay guys thats it long af as usual but lemme know what you thought and what you think is going to happen to claire, melendaire and l*mlendez!!! 💕💕 I’m still hoping for a freakin melendaire heart to heart oh my goddddd why hasn’t it happened yet

After watching the new new promo I def feel the #buildupforabreakup coming on between l*mlendez and a melendaire heart to heart

And Katie brought up a good point I like how shaun has the potential to be fired after one complaint and yet coyle got to keep his after SEXUALLY HARASSING MORE THEN ONE PERSON wow #consistency

On this show

[lydia-yougowith-stiles]

My Top Ships 2018

I really enjoyed writing this article last year. So here we go again. Check out my favorite ships from movies and TV this year. 

12. The Goldbergs-Erica and Geoff

The Goldbergs has been one of my favorite sitcoms for a couple of years now and I have loved watching the development of Erica and Geoff’s relationship from a simple high school crush, to Erica discovering her feelings, to them now in the current season feeling like an old married couple at times. While they may still have their ups and downs I love how they are always there for one another and they are just adorable. Hope they’re in it for the long run like Geoff assumes they will be!

11. Throne of Glass-Chaol and Celaena 

At the beginning of 2018 I started reading Sarah J. Maas’ fantasy novel Throne of Glass. Instantly I could see the love triangle emerge between the assassin Celaena, the crown prince Dorian and the head of the king’s guard Chaol. While book one looked more like Celaena and Dorian would be together I always held out hope for the latter. And then I read Crown of Midnight! That book was one of my overall favorites and I got to watch this relationship form. It was beautiful and then everything blew up. I started the third book in the series and was instantly disappointed because it felt like an entirely new series. So while I have stopped reading it since then Chaol and Celaena will forever be one of my favorite ships. 

10. Supergirl-Kara and Mon-El

Mon-El returned to Supergirl last season and while Karamel was apart for the majority of the season viewers got to see a more mature Mon-El. There has always been much debate over his character as well as his relationship with Kara, but I have always been a fan of the Daxamite. In this season he returned to the present from the future where he was a part of the Legion of Superheroes and he was married. Kara, still recovering from the aftermath of season two, was thrilled to see him, but much had changed. While moments of this season were aggravating the two still had some great chemistry on screen. It was still very clear of their feelings for one another, but yet again Mon-El had to leave. This time taking Winn with him (which is a rant for another day). So while they might not have a future this is another ship that will always be one of my favorites. 

9. Victoria-Lord Alfred and Drummond

This ship instantly pulled my heart strings and ultimately (SPOILER ALERT) crushed my soul. Lord Alfred and Edward Drummond’s relationship started in season one of Victoria, but truly got its own story line in season 2. As expected in this masterpiece drama there were twists and turns that kept this couple part. Given the time period two men could not be together and Drummond was engaged to be married to a woman. But what none of us saw coming was his death. I still cannot believe it. He will be truly missed in the newest season which will air in the new year. 

8. Anne with an E-Anne and Gilbert

Netflix’s Anne with an E returned with a second season this year and we were blessed with more Shirbert moments between Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe. While the beginning of this season saw Gilbert at sea (going off from L.M. Montgomery’s novel), there were still some great moments between the two characters from Anne writing him letters about the “gold,” to Gilbert not noticing her hair and letting her know it was good to see her. And who could forget this important moment (above) from the finale. Fortunately for us the series has just gotten picked up for a third season. I cannot wait to see what’s in store next!

7. Daredevil-Matt and Karen

While against popular ships I found myself shipping Matt Murdock and Karen Page hard as I began season 1 of Daredevil this past spring. In season 1 I took every moment I could get between the two of them and then I was a little too excited when they got “together” in season 2. While it didn’t end well for the two of them there were some really great moments I find myself reliving on YouTube. I have not watched season 3 yet (mainly because I want to continue to watch the Marvel Netflix shows in order and I have only just finished The Defenders). With the recent news of the show being cancelled I can only hope these two end on good terms. (Even if it is not romantically as I may hope. Please no spoilers.)

6. Set it Up-Harper and Charlie

This romantic comedy quickly made its way into my heart and into my top 10 favorite movies (I KNOW). This is all thanks to its lead characters Harper and Charlie. These two assistants were witty, relatable and just had an overall great chemistry that I am upset they are not together in real life. I have honestly watched this movie far too many times and each time my love for this ship gets stronger. I feel like the movie ends too quick because I want to know more about what happens to them. It might ruin it but would it be too much to ask for a sequel, Netflix?? 

5. Legacies-All of them

Okay, so by saying ALL OF THEM I don’t think I’m necessarily cheating. This show is still in its beginning and still establishing itself. They are still finding their ships and we are discovering the characters. But I have to say I like so many of them that it’s hard to choose just one pairing. Julie Plec has done a FANTASTIC job of having a lot of her major cast interact with one another and they each bring out something different in one another’s characters. One day I’m shipping Hope and Josie and the next I like Hope and Raphael. You can really tell good writing and characters when you can like so many different combinations and not feel mad about it. If you aren’t watching Legacies make sure to tune into the CW because you are missing out. 

4. The Originals-Klaus and Caroline

Yes, you did see this ship on my list from last year and that is because Klaus and Caroline are one of my top OTPs. I was excited to see Klaus on the Vampire Diaries so it is no surprise that I was beyond excited to hear of Caroline coming to the Originals in its final season. It was great to see the pair in the same room again. They were both parents now and had grown so much. Every time they recognized that in each other I got chills. So [SPOILER ALERT] while Klaus “had to die” I am extremely glad that he and Caroline got closure for their ship. In a way they were endgame and as a Klaroline fan, always and forever, that’s all a girl could ask for. 

3. Dawson’s Creek-Pacey and Joey

Dawson’s Creek was my summer binge this year. I wanted something “retro” that was just about regular teens (no superhero powers or magic). Going into this show I obviously knew a good amount of spoilers seeing as how it started in the late 90s, so I knew that Pacey Witter and Joey Potter would eventually become a couple. I now just had to wait for the when...and while at times it might have felt excruciating, I took any and all moments between the two characters (even before season 3 when things really get set into motion). There is just something so great about a ship between two characters who “hated” each others guts and tease each other constantly. It was well worth the wait because these two have become one of my favorite all time ships. While I am permanently paused on season four (pre their first break up) I have watched a bunch of spoiler videos to know that these two wind up together, which warms the heart. 

2. Brooklyn Nine-Nine-Amy and Jake

While looking for a new TV show to watch earlier this year it was suggested to watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine. (Only once I started binge-watching the show did it get cancelled and then thankfully renewed by NBC.) What a great choice it was to start watching this show. The void that was left by The Office and Parks and Rec was instantly filled by this sitcom. The characters and story-lines were hilarious and of course I couldn’t help but fall in love with the slow-burn of Amy and Jake. Again due to spoilers of coming into a show that already exists I knew the two would wind up together, but it was still so great to be a part of. The two are adorable and while the story line does not always revolve around their relationship you know they are still together by a quick line they say in a scene or two. They are just so right for each other. Right now I am catching up on season 5 (about mid-way right now) and I cannot wait to watch the next season premiering in January. So excited to see where their relationship is headed.

AND NUMBER 1 FOR 2018 GOES TO.....

1. THE 100-Bellamy and Clarke 

That’s right last year’s number 2 became my number 1 in 2018! While separated for 6 years with Clarke on the ground and Bellamy in the sky the two found their way back to one another. You could definitely feel the tension between the two, which made complete sense after all their time apart but there was still something that brought them back together. My heart still melts when Bellamy finds out that Clarke is alive from Madi and seeing Clarke’s face when Bellamy tells Diyoza that she matters. This ship is the slowest burn of my life and while Jason Rothenberg may still claim that the two will never be (and that we should read the books for that) this latest season gave us Bellarke fans a reason to hope. From Octavia calling out Bellamy’s feelings and saving the traitor who he loves (OMG) to Clarke’s looks every time Bellamy and Echo were embracing. They are the first two to wake up out of the pods and meet Harper and Monty’s son. They are deeply connected and I can only hope for moments like this next season. For now I’ll just re-watch my favorite to hold me over (and that includes Bob and Eliza’s SDCC interviews which were adorable). 

 Here’s to another year. Cannot wait to see what is in store for 2019!!