#awae s1

[enchanted-keys]

❃ Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley Cuthbert in AWAE 1.03 "But what is so headstrong as youth"

[ooo-yeah-baby]

Arranged

Yandere Gilbert Blythe x reader

I only write sfw, feel free to make requests. Forced relationship. Kinda Yan if you squinting idk.

"Gilbert Blythe." You could taste the sourness of his name on your tongue as you spit it out. 

"Y/N L/N." He mocked. His usual smirk plastered his face. 

He was one of the top kids in your class at school and one of the most popular boys. Your friends, Ruby and Anne, were obsessed with him. Ruby was more open about it than Anne, but Anne's feelings were obvious.  

If it weren't for them you might have caught something for him too. Of course it'd be difficult to feel anything but guilt if you were to. That doesn't mean you avoided him though. You often talked and joked with him. You weren't best buds but you weren't strangers(it'd be next to impossible to be in a town like Avonlea).

Besides, you were sure your parents would find a partner for you. Your parents have always wanted you to focus on your studies so they had always reassured you that they'd handle your marriage. You didn't mind it that much. You don't think they'll choose someone small minded, or far away, and you know they wouldn't choose someone who'd interfere with you going to college and living your life the way you want to. 

But this bothered you. This made your stomach turn. 

There he was. Standing on your front porch, with a bouquet of random flowers. 

"Oh, Y/N, let the boy in!" Your mother chattered. She pushed you to the side and opened the door wider for him. "Welcome, Gilbert." She chirped. 

"Thank you, Mrs. L/N." Gilbert stepped inside of your home. He removed his coat and hat and started towards you. "These are for you, Y/N." He handed you the flowers. You could see your mother's glare from behind Gilbert's curly head, urging you to be polite. 

"Thank you, Gilbert." You accepted the flowers and moved to the kitchen to find something to put them in, rolling your eyes when you turn away from him. 

When you came back your mother, father, older brother, and Gilbert were all sitting in the foyer. 

"Y/N, stop standing around." Your mother smiled slyly. "Have a seat next to Gilbert." You looked over to the seat next to Gilbert. There were open seats next to both your mother, and brother. She was clearly up to something. 

Of course it'd be rude to not take the seat after being told to do so, so you sat down next to him. 

As you were fixing your dress to free it of small wrinkles in the skirt your father cleared his throat. 

"Ahem, uh-" he awkwardly sat up. "We have something to tell you." He had a weird but proud smile on his face as he looked at your mother, brother, and then finally, you. His hand gestures over to Gilbert. "Would you like to tell her, Gilbert?" He asked. 

Gilbert's face became flushed. He laughed shyly. He looked down at his hands in his lap then turned to you. 

"Well, Y/N." He grabbed your hands, his thumb rubbing the back of your right hand gently. "Recently, I had asked your parents for your hand in marriage." 

Gilbert was looking in your eyes but yours had gone blank. You were puzzled. Perplexed. You knew your parents were looking for someone, and you knew Gilbert would get an automatic yes from them, but why was Gilbert asking you? Why not Ruby? Or Anne? Or literally anyone else. You couldn't marry him. That'd only be a betrayal against your friends. You had only thought that your mother invited him so he might consider you, but you didn't imagine he would. 

You realized you had been silent for too long when Gilbert was waving his hand in front of your face. Before you could properly think you blurted out;

"No!" Slapping his hand out of your face. Gilbert pulled his hand to his chest. You hadnt hurt him but it was a surprise. You turn to your mother. "You didn't tell him I would marry him, did you?" 

Your mother was shocked, mouth agape and all. 

"Well, of course we did." Your father said, still wide eyed from your reaction. 

You could see your brother trying to hold back his laughter. 

"Oh bite your tongue." Your mother spouted at him. 

Without saying anything, you rose from your seat and began walking up to your room. Closing the door behind you, and falling to the ground. 

You can hear your family in the living room. 

"She's just being dramatic, Gilbert." You heard your brother reassure him. 

"We're terribly sorry Gilbert." Your mother continued after. 

"It's no problem." Gilbert said. "We can try again another day." 

"Yes, I'm sure she'll come around." Your dad chimed in. 

Clearly, they had not gotten the hint that you were unhappy with this situation. Each of them took turns throughout the night knocking on your door and trying to get even an ounce of a reaction. Each try was futile. 

The next day you remained silent. You didn't even eat breakfast. You just walked past your family and out the door. 

When you got to school the message board was surrounded. Diana ran to you as you got to the door. 

"Hello, Diana." You said, exasperatedly. 

"Y/N. What's this about? Are you really marrying Gilbert?" She said. She seemed more concerned than upset. She'd support you no matter what but that doesn't mean she could hold back Ruby or Anne from reacting poorly. Luckily they hadn't gotten to school yet. 

"What?" You dropped your books and ran to the message board. 

After pushing past a group of people you reached the board. There it was. The only note on the board. 

"Gilbert and Y/N are engaged to be married." 

You were fuming! You knew exactly who did this. You tore the note from the board and pushed back out of the group of people as you stormed inside. 

"I'm not marrying you!" You threw the crumpled up note at the back of Gilbert's head. The class members inside turned and watched. 

Gilbert's hands shot up in defense as he turned to face you. 

"Who said I wrote the note?" He smirked. Your face turned red with fury.

"You are so smug and inconsiderate!" You scoffed. 

"And you're beautiful when you're angry." Gilbert nodded at you teasingly.

You couldn't even think of a response besides storming away. The rest of class you could feel Gilbert's eyes shooting at you, along with every other girls, besides Rubys, who still had zero idea of the event that occurred before she got to school.

You were thankful that everyone, including Billy and Josie Pye, were quiet about the incident during lunch. You were also thankful to have a peaceful, Gilbert free lunch in the girls corner. 

But of course your peace could not last forever. 

You had hoped to stick close to Diana and Anne on their walks home but the second Gilbert came up it was like they handed you to him on a silver platter. Anne letting him take you was the most confusing part. 

Gilbert made it painfully obvious that he wanted you to hook arms with him as you walked, making a small triangle that stuck out of his side with his arm. Of course you ignored it and stormed ahead. 

"Would you slow down?" Gilbert piped, chasing after you like a lost puppy. 

"Why should I? You've got long legs. You should certainly be able to keep up." You tried to pick up your pace but honestly it was getting tiring and you could feel your own breath getting ragged.

Gilbert's hand reached up and caught yours, clasping his fingers around yours, stopping you in your tracks. 

"Because chasing you makes me seem like some kind of monster and walking together is far more enjoyable." He pulled your hand up and kissed your knuckles. 

"Perhaps it's enjoyable for you, Mr. Blythe, but currently, I do see you as a monster." You pulled your hand from his face but did not break free from the hand hold.

"And what makes me a monster?" He began walking again, at a very slow pace as you followed alongside him. 

"This whole marriage business for one;" You began. "I didn't think you were the type to force a girl to marry you, Mr. Blythe." 

"Would you have said yes if I had asked?" He was nervous for your answer. His jaw clenched and his left brow quirked up.

"No, but I am not saying yes now either." Gilbert looked a little disappointed but shook it off before you could notice. "I think I've made it clear that I don't wish to marry you, Mr. Blythe." 

"You know when we get married you won't be able to call me Mr. Blythe anymore, right?" He teased, trying to change the topic. You just gave him a sour look and no reply. Gilbert cleared his throat then tried again. "I was thinking we could have the ceremony in spring. Would you like that?" 

"Hypothetically, I'd prefer an early fall wedding." You replied, half heartedly. 

"Then that's what we'll have. A nice, fall wedding." Gilbert gently squeezed your hand and stepped closer. 

As the weeks passed you slowly noticed changes in your friends, especially Ruby. Her already dwindling gaze towards Gilbert had shifted in full throttle towards Moody and she repeatedly made small hints at giving you her blessing with the engagement. You tried to tell her that there was nothing between you and Gilbert but she just kept giving you little thumbs up as you would leave with him each day. 

Anne also began acting strangely. Despite your persistent denial she insisted that she supported you. 

It was like all of Avonlea was on Gilbert's side; rooting for him; rooting against you. 

Sure, the guilt would be gone now, seeing as your friends no longer hold feelings for him, but now there was a whole new reason. 

You didn't have a choice. You couldn't oppose the marriage and you couldn't consent. Gilbert was nice but he wasn't nice enough to break off the engagement.

After a while of begging you got an idea. It was a horrible and inconvenient idea. Even the thought of it made you feel like a vixen. But it had to be done. The engagement had been finalized and this was the only way to break it off. 

Your plan wasn't that hard to come up with either. Tell the girls you have feelings for one of the other boys, don't say who, and ruin your own reputation. If you were known to be someone who wishes to be with other while already "taken" then there would be no reason to continue with the marriage. 

Then, during college, once everything blows over and you're free again, you can find someone you truly love. 

When lunch came around you made your grand confession and all of the girls looked at you as if you had just told them the most shocking news ever. By the end of the day most of the girls had told their parents, friends, siblings, etc. 

By the time word had gotten back to Gilbert he was bewildered and, though he would hate to admit it, angry. 

You felt proud walking out of your house the next morning after having been chewed out by your whole family. 

"Now it'll be impossible to find a good Avonlea boy for you."

"You really screwed that one up." 

"Why won't you just accept Gilbert?" 

If gossip was good somewhere, it was Avonlea. 

You felt proud, that is, until you made it down the steps of your porch, seeing Gilbert smelling the flowers that lined the railing. When we noticed you he stood up and snaked his arm around yours. 

"Good morning dear." He's greeted as he started walking. 

"Good morning Mr. Blythe." Why was he here. He should be at school for his morning classes or anywhere but in front of your home. 

"Gilbert." He said. "It's been a while since you called me Gilbert." 

You rolled your eyes at that, although you were still quite nervous. 

"Gilbert, why are you here so early?" You asked. 

"I have no plans of canceling the engagement." This stopped you in your tracks, stopping Gilbert along with you.

"Why not?" 

"I know you made it up." His free hand went to your face, cupping your cheek. "I love you Y/N. I don't care how many people tell me to cancel it. I need you." 

This wouldve been a sweet confession if it all hadn't been forced upon you. Instead, it felt like you had only dug yourself further into the ground. Of course Gilbert would know you lied, he's the smartest in the class, and of course he wouldn't care what others thought of you, that's how he is. 

You felt stupid. 

Stupid and trapped. 

[calummss]

i don’t care what anyone says, diana barry is a lesbian. her face when she realised aunt jo and gertrude weren’t just friends? her mind conflicted by the fact it’s morally wrong? diana saw herself in aunt jo and realised that maybe it wasn’t wrong to begin with. her messing with jerry? yeah that’s comphet

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Part 5 of my Anne With An E memes: season 1 episode 3

Everyone when Anne was reading that poem:

Anne, when Gilbert tried talking to her while the girls were watching:

Mathew going to Rachel:

Mathew being the only one to still view anne as a child:

Marilla when she went to Mrs. Andrews:

Me reasling Jerry probably wishes he could go to school too:

Ruby watching Gilbert try to talk to Anne:

OG fans when Gilbert pulled Anne's hair & called her carrots:

Everyone in the class when Anne broke her board on Gilbert's face:

Anne, after getting humiliated by the teacher:

[waoyflouis]

the way they look at each other

[keonemei]

“Golden hour” 🌞 I started this piece few weeks ago while listening to Golden Hour by Jvke and I immediately thought of Anne with an E. If you’ve been following me for a while you may already know that she’s one of my favorite characters ever, a childhood friend and a role model of tenderness, kindness ✨

Hope you like this illustration and show lots of love! Thank you for sticking with me, once again🧡 Find me on instagram & cara.app as keonemei

[sm0lgreml1n]

Gilbert Blythe checking out Anne Shirley-Cuthbert across S1 + S2

[couldtheyescortelliewilliams]

Do you want to submit a potential protector for Ellie? Click here if you do!

[lovelykikill]

Whispers of Avonlea

Chapter 1: Blooms in the Garden of Imagination, where they weave their dreams

1892 in Prince Edward Island, Canada. More specifically Avonlea, the small little town that was called home by its no more than 200 loyal residents. Avonlea had its charm, there was no denying it, although small in size and population it was very pretty, the sea bathing the coast beautifully, the houses nicely built many meters apart from one another, the farms kept neatly from the outside perspective, the people seemingly regular and sympathetic to newcomers, nice weather and everything else someone could expect from a small town such as Avonlea. Prince Edward Island by itself was possibly the prettiest little Island Canada had to offer.

He had just come back from a long travel with his sickly father just a week or two ago, John had wanted to see the mountains before dying, Gilbert hated it when he said such things, dying, made him feel uneasy, he was just a boy, what was he supposed to do if his father died? He has no mother, how would he live alone? How would he deal with it? It made him overthink so he would scold his father whenever he mentioned his passage. In the week or so he came back, he met a new girl “Anne, with an E” as she asks to be called, she is an orphan that had been adopted by the Cuthberts, the girl had an intriguing appearance as well as personality, fiery red hair, freckles all over her face and hands, the bluest big eyes possible, pale, thin and short, short temper from what he saw, very expressive and imaginative, he hadn’t had the chance to talk with her yet as it seemed the girls pulled her away from him whenever they could.

Anne Shirley had arrived in Avonlea around a week before Gilbert came back from his trip, she had a hard time in the town but found a kindred spirit in Diana Barry, although finding Diana made her life easier, the disappointment she felt when the reality didn’t quite suit her imagination was very difficult for her, she quickly found that her personality would have to be a bit diluted to be liked and fit in with the other people of Avonlea, she knew that was what she had to do, she mustered up the will to do it around specific settings, such as during lessons and around other girls, Mr. Philips didn’t exactly appreciate her expressive reading or loud voice, as for the girls, they didn’t appreciate her stories from when she was in other families.

Gilbert had tried to befriend her however she learned that that would be an awful idea, when Gilbert was trying to talk to her while entering the schoolhouse she was met with a crying Ruby Ghillis surrounded by angry girls, Josie Pye explained quickly that Ruby had ‘dibs’ on Gilbert as she had liked him since they were little and if she didn’t stay away from him she would be ignored by the girls.

Anne liked to be optimistic, but she couldn’t deny Josie Pye was mean, and so were Billy Andrews and his friends. It was frustrating and not what she had imagined, but Anne just figured she would try to not get attention around Josie and try to keep away from Billy Andrews.

Billy and his friends tended to be the first ones to leave the small classroom when dismissed by Mr. Philips so Anne made it a point to take longer to leave, that particular day Diana had to leave early as her parents had arranged a meeting she had to attend, so Anne had to go back the way to Green Gables by herself, not that she’d mind, her imagination was enough to keep her entertained for longer than she could count.

She got up from her wooden chair once she thought Billy was far enough from the schoolhouse; grabbing her plain pencil box Matthew made for her: her slate: and books. Moving over to the cloakroom, she placed her items in her basket, decorated with the flowers, leaves, and sticks she had found on the path to school like she did every day, she dressed her coat, put on her hat, and laid her plain gray scarf loosely around her neck, it was Autumn and thankfully not cold enough for her to need to put it on properly. Leaving the classroom once she was sure she had everything, remembering the day she had gone home without her milk bottle and Marilla scolded her endlessly. When she checked the mental checklist and was satisfied with the results she left the white schoolhouse.

The air was crisp, and a gentle breeze whispered secrets through the branches, encouraging Anne’s mind to wander to her favorite daydreams. Today, she found herself thinking of Princess Cordelia, a tragic figure she had conjured up in her mind. Cordelia was beautiful, of course, with long, flowing hair as dark as the deepest night and eyes that sparkled with a pearl of wisdom and sadness far beyond her years.

“Oh, Cordelia,” Anne murmured, her voice soft and dreamy, “how terrible it must have been to live in a castle filled with such splendor yet feel so utterly alone.”

Anne could almost see Cordelia now, standing on a balcony high above the kingdom, looking out over the vast lands that were hers to rule, yet feeling a profound loneliness in her heart. The princess’s gown, a beautiful pink that caught the light of a thousand stars, and of course, the puff sleeves flowed around her like water, elegant and ethereal, nothing she, herself felt she could ever wear, she thought of herself as too plain, ugly, homely, and most of all her fiery hair didn't allow her to wear such colors.

“She had everything,” Anne continued, her eyes distant and filled with the sorrow she felt for her imaginary friend. “Jewels and silks, beauty, intelligence, the adoration of her subjects, and yet, she longed for the one thing she could not have: true love.”

The path twisted and turned, leading Anne deeper into the woods. She twirled a bit of her auburn hair around her finger, lost in her thoughts. In her mind’s eye, Cordelia was wandering through a moonlit garden, the scent of night-blooming flowers heavy in the air. Despite the beauty surrounding her, the princess’s heart was heavy with unspoken pain.

“And so, Cordelia roamed the gardens, night after night, hoping to find solace in the whispers of the wind,” Anne said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But the wind could only tell her stories of what was and what could never be.”

Anne stopped for a moment, looking up at the canopy of leaves above her. The sunlight filtered through, casting dappled shadows on her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, imagining the cool, crisp air was the very breath of the enchanted forest where Cordelia lived.

“It was then, on one such lonely night, that Cordelia found a small, hidden gate at the edge of the garden,” Anne said, her eyes snapping open with excitement. “A gate she had never seen before. With a heart full of hope and a touch of fear, she pushed it open and stepped into the unknown.”

Anne’s steps quickened as she moved deeper into her story. She imagined Cordelia stepping into a mystical forest, much like the one she now wandered. It was a place of magic and mystery, where the trees seemed to whisper secrets and the air shimmered with possibilities.

“And in that magical forest,” Anne said, her voice full of wonder, “Cordelia found something she had never expected: a kindred spirit. Someone who saw her not just as a princess, but as a person with hopes and dreams, with fears and longings.”

With a sigh of contentment, Anne continued her walk, knowing that as long as she had her imagination, she would never truly be alone.

“Oh, how I wish I could be as brave as Princess Cordelia,” Anne mused aloud, her voice echoing softly among the trees. “She faced so many trials with such grace and fortitude.”

She pictured Cordelia, her long, flowing gown trailing behind her as she wandered through a similar forest, her heart heavy with the weight of loneliness. The princess’s deep dark eyes were filled with unshed tears, and her raven hair cascaded down her back like a dark waterfall.

“Tragic Cordelia, separated from society by cruel fate,” Anne continued, her voice trembling with emotion. “How she longed to find someone, yet duty and honor kept her apart. Each day, she wandered through this very forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone, to hear a voice carried in the wind.”

Anne paused for a moment, her eyes scanning the forest as if expecting to see Cordelia’s ghostly figure appear among the trees. She sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the princess’s sorrow in her own heart.

As Anne wandered deeper into the forest, the sound of the leaves crunching beneath her feet was accompanied by the gentle hum of the autumn breeze. She turned a corner, and there, standing in a sun-dappled clearing was a vision that made her heart leap into her throat.

At first, Anne thought it was just another figment of her imagination, but the figure remained steadfast as if conjured from her very thoughts. It was Princess Cordelia—or at least, it seemed to be. The girl had long, flowing hair as dark as the deepest night, cascading down her back in waves. A delicate, silver bow adorned her hair, catching the sunlight and sparkling as if encrusted with tiny diamonds.

Her gown shimmered in the afternoon light, a cascade of silken fabric in a hue of pink that seemed almost otherworldly. She was tall, with a slender, graceful frame, a year or two older than herself, and her skin was as pale and flawless as porcelain. Anne’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight, unable to believe her eyes.

“Cordelia?” Anne whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of excitement and disbelief.

The girl turned, her dark eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the forest around them holding its breath. Then, a soft, hesitant smile curved the girl’s lips, and Anne’s heart swelled with the possibility that her daydream had somehow, miraculously, come to life.

“Hello,” the girl said, her voice as soft and melodic as Anne had always imagined Cordelia would be.

Anne stepped closer, pinching her own arm to make sure her brain wasn’t deceiving her own eyes, attention never leaving the girl’s face. “I—I’m sorry. You just... you look so much like someone I know. Or rather, someone I imagined.”

The girl’s smile grew, and she tilted her head slightly, a gesture so familiar that it sent shivers down Anne’s spine. “My name is Chiara Everhart,” she said gently. “I just moved here from Montreal and thought I’d explore a bit.”

Anne blinked, her mind racing. “Chiara Everhart,” she repeated, tasting the name on her tongue, Anne’s eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands together, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Chiara Everhart! What an utterly enchanting name! It’s like a melody, so lyrical and beautiful. It sounds as if it belongs to a princess in a far-off, magical land, or perhaps the heroine of a grand, sweeping romance! Oh, how fortunate you are to possess such a name! You look just like... well, just like Princess Cordelia from my stories.”

Chiara chuckled softly, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Thank you. You’re very kind.” Chiara’s eyes sparkled with curiosity and understanding. “Really? That’s quite a coincidence. I’ve always loved the idea of being a character in a story.”

Anne’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful! Imagine, Princess Cordelia finally stepping out of the pages of my imagination and into the real world!”

Chiara laughed softly, a sound that was both musical and comforting. “I’d love to hear more about her,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. “Perhaps you could tell me as we walk? May I ask your name?”

Anne’s exuberance faded slightly as she sighed, casting her gaze downward. “I’m Anne. Just Anne. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Such a plain, unremarkable name, devoid of any poetry or grandeur. But please make sure to spell it with an E, Anne with an E sounds much more romantic than Ann with no E, still nothing like magnificent Chiara Everhart.”

Chiara shook her head gently, her eyes filled with warmth. “Oh, Anne, your name is wonderful. It’s full of grace and character, just like you. And you, Anne, are anything but plain. You look like you’ve been kissed by the sun himself with those freckles. Your hair is like fiery autumn leaves, and your eyes shine with the color of the brightest water or sky.”

Anne’s face lit up, her eyes wide with wonder and disbelief, Chiara did seem to use big words romantically, and she even complimented Anne. “Do you truly think so? Oh, Chiara, how marvelous! I have always wished to be thought of as special, to have a name and a presence that captures the imagination.”

“I do,” Chiara affirmed, sincerity in her voice. “You are a rare and beautiful soul, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, with a name as lovely as the person who bears it.”

Anne’s heart soared as she took Chiara’s arm, feeling the warmth of her presence.

Anne struggled to keep pace with Chiara, whose long strides and graceful movements seemed to make her glide over the uneven forest floor. Despite the height difference, Anne’s enthusiasm and energy propelled her forward, determined not to let her new companion out of sight.

“Oh, Chiara,” Anne exclaimed breathlessly, “you walk like a queen through her enchanted realm! I imagine you’re exploring your vast kingdom, seeking out hidden secrets and lost treasures.”

Chiara turned her head slightly, a smile playing on her lips. “Do I? I’m just trying to find my way around these woods.”

Anne’s eyes sparkled as she continued, hardly pausing for breath. “And here, beneath the ancient oaks, you discover a hidden glade where the fairies dance by moonlight, their delicate wings shimmering like the stars. You’re their beloved princess, the one they’ve waited for all these centuries.”

Chiara chuckled softly, clearly amused by Anne’s vivid imagination. “That sounds wonderful, Anne. What happens next?”

Anne’s face lit up with excitement as she weaved her tale, momentarily forgetting that Chiara was not just a character in her story. “Next, you find an ancient, forgotten well. It’s said that whoever looks into its depths can see the face of their true love. You lean over the edge, and—”

Chiara gently interrupted, her voice warm with amusement. “Anne, you have the most amazing imagination. Do you often create stories like this?”

Anne blushed, realizing how carried away she had become. “Oh, yes! I can’t help it. Every person I meet, every place I go, there’s always a story waiting to be told. And you, you’re like a character straight out of a fairy tale.”

Chiara smiled, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Thank you, Anne. It’s quite a compliment to be part of one of your stories.”

Anne’s cheeks flushed with pride and embarrassment. “I just can’t help but admire you. Your elegance, your poise, it’s all so enchanting. You’re like Princess Cordelia brought to life, walking here beside me.”

Chiara’s pace slowed slightly, making it easier for Anne to keep up. “Well, if I’m Princess Cordelia, then what shall we do next in our enchanted forest?”

Anne’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh, we must prepare for the grand ball in the fairy court! You’ll need a crown of flowers, of course, and a magic wand to grant wishes.”

Chiara laughed, clearly enjoying the play. “A crown of flowers, you say? Then we should gather the most beautiful blossoms we can find!”

They darted around the forest, picking wildflowers and weaving them into a delicate crown for Chiara. Anne’s nimble fingers worked quickly, and soon enough, she placed the floral creation atop Chiara’s head, admiring her handiwork.

“You look absolutely regal,” Anne declared. “Now, with this wand”—she handed Chiara a stick adorned with a few flowers and leaves—“you can grant three wishes to anyone you choose.”

Chiara took the makeshift wand with a graceful nod. “Very well, Lady Anne. What is your first wish?”

Anne’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I wish for…a grand feast under the stars, with all our friends and magical creatures in attendance!”

Chiara waved the wand dramatically. “Granted! And for your second wish?”

Anne pondered for a moment, her imagination running wild. “I wish for a magical adventure, one that takes us to far-off lands and mysterious places.”

Chiara waved the wand again. “Granted! And your third wish, my dear Lady Anne?”

Anne’s face softened, her voice filled with sincere admiration. “I wish for our friendship to grow ever stronger, just like in the stories.”

Chiara’s eyes softened as well, and she waved the wand one last time. “Granted, Lady Anne, with all my heart.”

They laughed and continued their game, creating elaborate stories and pretending to be characters from Anne’s vivid imagination. The forest around them seemed to come alive with their words, the colors of autumn painting their path with hues of magic and possibility.

As Anne and Chiara continued their playful journey through the forest, Anne’s mind suddenly sparked with a vivid memory. She recalled the special friendship ritual she had once performed with Diana, a ritual that had bonded them as kindred spirits for all time. Anne knew that she must share this cherished tradition with Chiara to seal their new bond.

“Oh, Chiara!” Anne exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement. “I just remembered something very important. We must perform a friendship ritual to ensure we remain kindred spirits forever!”

Chiara’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “A friendship ritual? That sounds wonderful! How do we do it?”

Anne’s face flushed with excitement as she began to explain. “It’s very simple but incredibly meaningful. First, we need to find a special place, a secret spot where only the truest of friends can meet. Then, we must each bring a token, something that represents our friendship.”

Chiara nodded eagerly, clearly enchanted by the idea. “Where shall we find this special place?”

Anne looked around, her eyes scanning the forest until she found a secluded clearing surrounded by ancient trees. Sunlight streamed through the canopy, casting a magical glow over the area.

“Over there!” Anne pointed. “That clearing looks perfect. It’s as if it’s waiting just for us.”

They made their way to the clearing, the air around them humming with anticipation. Anne reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, worn ribbon, a keepsake from one of her many imaginative adventures.

“This ribbon represents all the stories we’ll share,” Anne said, holding it out with reverence.

Chiara rummaged in her satchel and produced a delicate, silver bracelet. “And this bracelet represents the bond of friendship that grows stronger every day.”

Anne took the ribbon and tied it around the bracelet, binding their tokens together. Then she looked at Chiara, holding her pinky finger up for them to lock it together, her eyes brimming with sincerity.

“Now, we must recite the pledge,” Anne instructed. “I’ll say the first part, and you can repeat after me.”

Chiara nodded, her face glowing with excitement.

Anne took a deep breath and began, her voice clear and full of emotion. “I, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, pledge to be your kindred spirit and friend, to share in your joys and sorrows, and to stand by you through all of life’s adventures.”

Chiara repeated the words with equal sincerity, “I, Chiara Everhart, pledge to be your kindred spirit and friend, to share in your joys and sorrows, and to stand by you through all of life’s adventures.”

Anne continued, “With this token, we seal our friendship, and promise to keep it sacred, now and forevermore.”

Chiara echoed, “With this token, we seal our friendship, and promise to keep it sacred, now and forevermore.”

They placed the ribbon-wrapped bracelet in the center of the clearing, a symbol of their new bond. Anne looked at Chiara, her heart swelling with happiness.

“Now, we are officially kindred spirits,” Anne declared, her eyes shining.

Chiara beamed, her dark eyes sparkling with joy.

Anne took Chiara’s hands in hers, feeling the warmth and connection between them. “We’re kindred spirits, and that’s the most magical thing of all.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the forest, Anne and Chiara realized it was time to part ways. The sky shifted from the golden hues of late afternoon to the deep purples and blues of twilight, signaling the end of their magical day together.

“I guess we should head home before it gets too dark,” Anne said, a tinge of reluctance in her voice.

Chiara nodded, her expression mirroring Anne’s wistfulness. “Yes, but I’m so glad we spent this time together, Anne. I’ll cherish our friendship ritual.”

“So will I, Chiara. It’s the beginning of something truly special,” Anne replied, giving her new friend a warm hug.

As the two friends bid each other farewell, they promised to reunite soon before making their way to their respective homes. Anne increased her pace as she realized Marilla and Matthew would be eagerly awaiting her return.

Upon finally reaching the familiar Green Gables, it stood as a tranquil sanctuary under the night sky, its charming farmhouse silhouette framed by the delicate glow of moonlight. From Anne's perspective, the house was a comforting beacon of warmth and safety amidst the cool, crisp night air. The familiar gabled roof and quaint dormer windows seemed to glow softly, reflecting the gentle light of the stars that twinkled above.

The yard, usually alive with the colors and sounds of day, was now a serene expanse, bathed in silvery luminescence. The ancient trees cast long, gentle shadows across the lawn, their branches swaying softly in the late evening breeze, whispering secrets to one another. The garden, a riot of blossoms during the day, now going to slumber peacefully, its fragrances mingling with the cool night air, creating a soothing and almost magical ambiance.

Inside, the soft amber light spilling from the windows hinted at the coziness within. The kitchen, always the heart of Green Gables, emitted a warm, inviting glow. Anne could almost hear the crackling of the hearth fire and the quiet hum of Marilla’s evening tasks, creating a lullaby of domestic contentment. The aroma of freshly baked bread and a hint of Marilla’s lavender sachets mingled in the air, a sensory tapestry that spoke of home and love.

The parlor, with its polished wooden furniture and carefully arranged knick-knacks, held an air of timeless elegance. Anne imagined the soft ticking of the grandfather clock, the gentle rustle of the curtains, and the occasional creak of the floorboards, all adding to the symphony of nighttime sounds that made Green Gables so unique.

As she gazed at her beloved home, Anne’s heart swelled with a profound sense of belonging and gratitude. Every corner of Green Gables, every shadow and flicker of light, held a story, a memory. From the adventures and dreams she had woven into its very fabric to the quiet moments of reflection, the farmhouse was not just a structure but a living, breathing entity filled with love, dreams, and endless possibilities.

Under the canopy of the star-studded sky, Green Gables stood as a testament to all that Anne cherished—her sanctuary, her muse, her home.

Anne noticed a warm glow emanating from the windows. The amber light spilling out into the dusk signaled that Marilla and Matthew were patiently awaiting her return. Eager to escape the cool evening air, she hastened inside, her heart quickening with anticipation and relief.

In the cozy kitchen, Marilla was engaged in a worried conversation with Matthew about Anne not being home yet. The comforting aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering stew filled the air, mingling with the crackling of the hearth. As Anne entered, Marilla's sharp eyes immediately detected her, a hint of concern in her expression.

"Anne, where have you been? It's getting late, and you know how worried I get," Marilla scolded gently, her voice tinged with apprehension but softened by her undeniable affection for the girl.

Matthew, with his gentle demeanor and kind eyes, raised his gaze from his seat, mirroring Marilla's worry. "Did you have a good time, Anne?" he asked, his voice a soothing balm to Anne's slightly frazzled nerves.

Anne nodded enthusiastically, her face aglow with the exhilaration of the day's adventures. "Oh, yes, Matthew! I met the most extraordinary girl, Chiara Everhart. We had such a magical time exploring the woods, spinning tales of wonder and make-believe."

Marilla's stern expression softened slightly at Anne's unbridled joy, but her discerning eyes quickly scanned Anne's appearance for any signs of trouble. "Anne, where's your basket?" she asked, noticing its absence.

Anne's eyes widened in realization, her heart sinking. "Oh no! I must have left it in the forest while Chiara and I were lost in our stories. I got so caught up in the adventures that I completely forgot about it."

Marilla released a sigh, a mix of exasperation and empathy coloring her features. "Anne, you must be more careful. That basket contained important items," she chided, though her voice was gentle.

"I'm terribly sorry, Marilla. I didn't mean to leave it behind," Anne apologized, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a touch of guilt.

Matthew stood up, his comforting presence a steadying force. He placed a reassuring hand on Anne's shoulder. "It's alright, Anne. We can go retrieve the basket tomorrow. For now, let's have dinner. You must be famished after your adventure."

Anne looked gratefully at Matthew, the weight of her earlier mistake lifting slightly. "Thank you, Matthew. I promise to be more attentive in the future."

Marilla nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite her earlier sternness. "Just make sure you do, Anne. Now, freshen up and join us at the table."

As Anne washed her hands and prepared for supper, her mind drifted back to the enchanting afternoon spent with Chiara. The memories of their laughter and shared stories warmed her heart, a reminder of the magic and wonder that could be found even in the simplest of moments.

Meanwhile, Chiara made her way back to Everhart Manor, the day’s adventure still vivid in her mind. The dim light of the setting sun cast long shadows along the path, illuminating her way home in a serene and ethereal glow. The air was cool and crisp, filled with the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the distant chirping of crickets.

As she strolled through the twilight, her thoughts danced between the enchanting stories she and Anne had spun that afternoon. It was then, among the scattered leaves and the gentle rustle of the wind, that she noticed a familiar basket lying near the edge of the woods.

Chiara bent down, her fingers brushing against the worn wicker. “This must be Anne’s,” she murmured, a soft smile playing on her lips as she recalled their joyful time together. She decided to take it home, intending to find a way to return it to Anne the next day.

Upon reaching Everhart Manor, Chiara’s new home, stood grand and imposing against the lush backdrop of Avonlea’s countryside. The stately white mansion exuded an air of timeless elegance and sophistication, its pristine facade gleaming under the golden rays of the setting sun. Tall, fluted columns framed the entrance, supporting a balcony that overlooked the sprawling, manicured grounds. The architecture, a blend of classical and colonial styles, spoke of an era of grace and grandeur, every detail meticulously crafted to convey a sense of opulence and refinement.

As Chiara approached the manor, the wide gravel driveway crunched softly underfoot, flanked by meticulously trimmed hedges and vibrant flower beds that added splashes of color to the pristine white surroundings. Majestic oak trees stood sentinel around the property, their branches forming a natural canopy that provided both shade and a sense of seclusion.

The double doors painted a deep, welcoming blue, opened into a vast foyer bathed in soft light from a grand crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. The polished marble floors gleamed underfoot, and an intricately carved staircase wound gracefully to the upper floors, its banisters adorned with delicate wrought-iron designs. Elegant sconces cast a warm glow along the walls, highlighting portraits of generations of Everharts, their dignified gazes watching over the house.

Each room within the manor spoke of luxury and careful attention to detail. The parlor, with its plush velvet furnishings and richly patterned rugs, guests to linger and converse. An ornate fireplace, its mantle adorned with fine porcelain and silver candelabras, crackled softly, adding warmth and a sense of homeliness to the otherwise grand space.

The dining room, dominated by a long mahogany table polished to a mirror-like finish, was ready to host lavish gatherings. Crystal glassware and fine china gleamed in the soft light of another chandelier, while tall windows draped with heavy silk curtains offered views of the expansive gardens beyond.

Chiara’s room, a sanctuary within this grand abode, was a haven of tranquility. Soft, pastel hues adorned the walls, and the large windows framed by billowing lace curtains allowed natural light to flood the space during the day. A canopy bed, its posts intricately carved and draped with sheer fabric, stood as the room’s centerpiece. A writing desk, cluttered with journals and sketchbooks, sat near the window, offering Chiara a perfect spot to capture her thoughts and inspirations.

Chiara walked through the grand entrance, the basket swinging gently in her hand. The manor’s stately presence loomed against the evening sky, its windows glowing warmly. Inside, the house was filled with the comforting aroma of dinner being prepared, and the flickering lantern light cast a golden hue across the elegantly furnished rooms.

She ascended the grand staircase to her room, the plush carpet muffling her footsteps. Once inside, she placed the basket on her writing desk. The soft glow of the lantern light illuminated her room, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere over her personal sanctuary filled with books, sketches, and delicate trinkets.

Curiosity piqued, Chiara examined the contents of the basket. She carefully lifted out each item, recognizing the various belongings that must have been important to Anne. School books, a slate, a small very well-made pencil box, a glass bottle stained with milk on the inside, and a handkerchief —each piece told a story of Anne’s lively spirit and imaginative mind. Chiara’s heart warmed at the thought of her new friend.

“I suppose I’ll have to return it to her tomorrow at school,” she mused aloud. “If she’s not there, surely someone will know where Anne lives.”

Settling into bed that night, Chiara felt a deep sense of contentment. The memories of the day’s adventures with Anne, the shared laughter, and the budding friendship filled her with serene happiness.

[helloimamistake]

Idk why but everytime im scrolling through a social media and see anne with an e related stuff

I immediately starts tearing because i lowkey missed the series like for real 😭😭

Is that a normal behavior?

[mahatheshortiereads]

Does anyone have any Shirbert fanfic recommendations? (non modern)

[enchanted-keys]

❀ Anne Shirley Cuthbert in AWAE 1.02 "I Am No Bird, and No Net Ensnares Me"

[ooo-yeah-baby]

ok awesome thank you :)) could i please request a moody spurgeon x reader from AWAE (s2 era) where he’s lovesick and obsessed with the reader and is sure she’s his future wife? they’re friends, but not super close, and she says she’s not ready for marriage yet because she wants to go to queen’s college. so he forcibly kisses her and someone sees, leading both her and his parents to force them to marry. feel free to change any details if you’d like! thank you so so much ❤️

Lovely

Yandere Moody Spurgeon x Reader

I only write sfw, feel free to send asks, Yandere themes, forced kiss, forced marriage, vixen shaming, I don't know, it's long. I don't really like it after the Mrs. Linde part, I did season 3 Moody cuz the banjo was convenient. Thank you for the ask!!

You sound lovely!" Y/N spouted as the last string on Moodys banjo rung out. 

"You're lovely- err I mean... thank you." He stuttered, blush running to his cheeks.

He truly thought she was lovely. The way her hair swayed as she moved. The way her laugh sounded as it filled a room. The color of her eyes and the way they sparkled when the light hit them just right. The way she spoke, especially when she was answering a question. 

Y/N laughed a bit at his mess up. 

"Why, thank you, Moody." 

During class Moody would find his eyes wandering over to Y/Ns seat across the room. Sometimes he'd miss whole lessons, whole class days even, just staring at her. 

Moody may not have been the smartest but he had a wild imagination. He'd imagined Y/N in a beautiful wedding dress with a lace veil and a bouquet of wild flowers. Of course, he'd be wearing a hand-me-down suit from his parents. Maybe with something new added, like a small embroidery from his mother, or some cufflinks, who knows? She'd smile at him with a tint of blush on her cheeks as she walked with her father down the isle and he'd feel his heart pump a million beats a second and then- 

The school day would end and he'd have to watch her walk away. 

But during lunch she'd always sit and listen to him play his banjo before going to eat with the other girls. She was practically his during that time. 

"Y/N," Moody began one day while putting his Banjo down. "Would you like to eat with me today?" He asked, fidgeting with his fingers. 

She just smiled and nodded before running off to get her lunch. 

After that she began eating with him a few days out of the week. She'd grab her lunch and sit and listen to him play and laugh and talk with him. Moody felt content for a while. 

Only for a while. 

Then he got the idea that Y/N had fallen for him like he had fallen for her. Why wouldn't she? It just makes sense. They were practically already courting one another in his eyes. 

He thought she stared at him like he was the only boy in the world. He thought she smiled brighter when she was with him. He thought she loved him. 

He needed her to love him. 

Finally, while sitting with Y/N in the school house during lunch, he croaked up the courage to say something. 

"Y/N, will you marry me?" His eyes shut and his hands balled into clenched fists. 

Y/N was just about to take a bite of a 🍐  and stopped in her tracks at his request. Thankfully no one had heard Moodys proposal. 

"What?" Y/N asked, putting the fruit down. 

"W-will you marry me?" He reiterated. Y/N took a moment to reprocess the situation.

After what felt like ages to Moody she finally began to show somewhat of a reaction. Her head began shaking and she began speaking. 

"No. I'm sorry Moody." She looked down at her dress and fiddled with the hem of it. Moodys face flushed with a bright red color. 

"Why not?" He pressed. 

"It's nothing against you, Moody. It's just, well... we haven't even really courted, and Ill be leaving for Queens College soon and-" She thought for a moment, "I suppose I see you as more of a friend too, Moody." Every word she spoke dripped with her discomfort. She looked down and started cleaning up her lunch basket. Moody felt betrayed. What were they doing if not courting one another? And she sees him as more of a friend? Then why does she look at him like that? Being married won't stop her from going to college. Moody would never dream of holding her back. He just wanted to love her and for her to love him. To spend the rest of their lives together and grow old together. "I'm hardly ready for marriage any wa-!" Moodys hand reach behind Y/Ns head and he pulled her face in to his, practically clashing teeth with each other. Y/N pushed against him, moving her hands up to his chest, pressing as hard as she could and finally disconnecting their lips. 

Moody fell back to the floor with heavy breath and Y/N stared down at him furiously. 

This whole fiasco definitely did not go unnoticed by the class. Y/Ns face turned beat red, either from embarrassment, rage, or a mix of both, as she looked around the class at the other students ogling at her. 

She quickly stood up and gave Moody a swift kick in his shin before collecting her things and running out of the school house. 

Moodys hand reached up to one of the desk tables for support as he pulled himself up, noticing the many groups whispering about the incident. He felt a lump grow in his throat that he tried to swallow back while fixing his clothes, then he ran out of the school house, like Y/N had previously. 

If something were to happen in Avonlea the whole town would know about it. Whether from word of mouth or Mrs. Rachel Linde going around spreading the good, bad, and nasty news. Of course Y/Ns parents heard about what had happened from Mrs. Linde who had heard it from a group of students passing by her home. She immediately scurried herself over to the L/N little farm and shared her thoughts on the matter. 

"Well hello, Mrs. Linde." Y/Ns mother said as she opened her front door. Rachel came barging in the second she saw the door move. 

"Mrs. L/N." She greeted, already in the parlor of the white walled house. "I assume you've heard of..." she looked around for somewhere to place her hat and coat, spying the rack by the front door, then continued; "Your daughters little fiasco at the school house." She placed her hat and coat on the rack and moved to sit in one of the chairs in the parlor. 

Mrs. L/N took a seat across from Rachel and pushed out the rinkles of her dress. 

"No, what has she done now?" Her brows furrowed. Her daughter had never been apart of any of Rachel's rumors and it was discontenting to see it happening now. 

"Oh its a doosy." Her finger pointed at Mrs. L/N. "I heard the boys talking. Today, in front of the whole class she caused a spectacle." She had a short huff  before continuing again. "You know I'm not one to gossip, but as your friend I thought you needed to know. If your daughter is truly becoming a vixen then you have every right to know. Knock the devil out of her before it's too late-" 

"Please, just tell me what happened, Mrs. Linde." Your mother pleaded, slightly irked by Rachel's coarse language and accusations at her daughter. 

"Yes, well, I was sitting on my porch moments ago when I heard the Andrews and Sloane boy talking. According to them, your daughter was locking lips with that Moody Spurgeon boy in the middle of class. For everyone to see. Apparently they both ran out of the school house around noon together and haven't been back since. Took their things and all." 

Mrs. L/N was shocked to say the least. 

"Well, I suppose I'll have to have a word with my daughter. Thank you for informing me, Mrs. Linde." She stood up and ushers for Rachel to do so as well, which Rachel did oblige but she couldn't help herself from shoving her opinion in the mix, again. 

"You know, with how many people saw this fiasco, you might as well marry her off to that boy. It's the only chance she'll have at finding a husband under the circumstances. Word travels fast and no one is going to want a girl who's been throwing herself at men left and right." 

"Of course, Rachel." Mrs. L/N sighed. "I suppose that's our only option." Her hand moved to her temple and attempted to rub out her forming migraine. 

"Well. Keep me in on the loop." Rachel added before grabbing her things and leaving, more than likely to go spread the word to every end of Avonlea. 

About an hour after Mrs. Linde left Y/N, returned home. Mrs. L/N had already discussed the incident and what they needed to do with Mr. L/N and the two were waiting for their lovely, possibly a vixen, daughter to return home. The second y/n walked in the door they dragged her back out and ventured to the Spurgeon home. 

"I don't know what happened, Y/N, but this is unacceptable. No doubt Rachel's gone and told all of Avonlea by now." Her mother chattered. 

"It's not my fault!" 

Mrs. L/N scoffed in response. 

"Well, there isn't much we can do about it now. Your fault or not, it happened. And now you're becoming a laughing stock. We'll have to fix this somehow, with the Spurgeon family." 

They arrived at the house, Y/N begrudgingly stepping up to the porch with her family. They were invited in and the parents went to discuss matters. 

Y/N remained standing by the door as Moody stared at her, eyes filled with guilt. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N" he mumbled. He wasnt actually sorry but he didnt exactly know what else to say. 

"Sorry wont fix this, Moody. You were supposed to be my friend. Now my reputation is ruined. I'll have to leave the island to get married with the way Mrs. Linde has been reacting." Y/N huffed in response. 

Meanwhile, in the other room;

"My son kissed your daughter. He told us everything. He will take responsibility. Whatever you think is best." Mrs. Spurgeon assured. 

"Well I'd like to believe my daughter had no hand but I was her age once too." Mrs. L/N shook her head. "I suggest we give the two what they want and settle it that way. It's easier on us and easier on them." 

Mrs. Spurgeon nodded in response and the two treked back to the front room. 

"You two will marry." Mrs. L/N said, an unwarranted smile plastered her face. 

"What?" The two kids said in unison, one clearly more excited about it than the other. 

"It makes the most sense." Mrs. Spurgeon added.

"Makes the most sense?" Y/N stepped up. "How does that make any sense?" 

"Bite your tongue, dear." Her mother warned. "It's not likely that you'll he able to find anyone else now is it?" Her mother continued to press. "Clearly you must enjoy Moodys presence in some capacity or you wouldn't have been near him to begin with. This is our final decision." 

"But Queens College!" Y/N huffed. "I'm taking the entrance exam soon!" 

"You can still go!" Moody chimed in. A scowl crept to Y/Ns' face but Moody pressed on, taking a step forward to continue his soon to be ramble. "I-I would never hold you back. You can go to Queens College and Ill go to college too and then we can be married after we both graduate."

"Very good, Moody." His mother congratulated. "That's what we'll do." 

And with that, the two were engaged. It was all over Avonlea. Y/N had her reputation back and Moody had her, although Y/N tried tirelessly to break the engagement.

[melancholic-tragedies]

Matthew Cuthbert appreciation post just because 🫶🫶

Minor spoilers? (If you haven’t watched season 1)

I love Matthew so much. He really is, as Anne said, a kindred spirit. I was about to cry when he got a heart attack towards the end of the first season, I seriously I’d not need him to die. And it broke my heart that he really thought of committing suicide so that Anne and Marilla could benefit from the insurance money they would receive from his death. I was really glad he didn’t go through with it. Or I would have been a sobbing mess.

He was the first person who accepted Anne for who she was. He’s genuinely one of the sweetest and most wholesome characters, anyone would want him as a father figure. He’s just the character that you grow to love so much. He traveled land and sea, far and wide to get Anne back 😩

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Part 3 of my Anne With An E memes: Season 1 episode 4

When that machine broke:

Me when Anne made it out of the house:

Ruby finding out she's going to be rooming with Anne:

Anne: The cherry tree by my room is ever so friendly

Ruby internally:

Anne: just think about pretty dresses

Ruby:

The minister: This is heavy work

Me:

Me when Ruby started crying again:

Me when Billy was running his mouth:

Gilbert: is polite

Ruby:

Anne had that minister like:

[crowwithacomputer]

rewatching Anne with an E and the first episode oh my god she's so autistic I love her with all my heart