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[nevcrmcre]

welcome  home  .   —  draco .

triggers:  none .

mentioned: hermione granger . narcissa black . lucius malfoy . briefly . 

the  dimly-lit  lamp  is  the  only  source  of  light  that  fills  the  nursery  .  hues  of  green  and  red  cover  the  walls  ,  large  murals  filling  the  corners  of  the  room  .  the  wooden  crib  ,  carved  with  intricate  details  ,  sits  empty  .  the  matching  rocking  chair  ,  creaks  against  the  hardwood  flooring  ,  echoing  against  the  walls  .

his  silver  hair  is  ruffled  ,  out  of  place  from  it’s  usual  styling  .  draco’s  reading  glasses  rest  on  the  bridge  of  his  nose  ,  his  eyes  darting  to  the  clock  .  it’s  a  little  before  3am  ,  the  sky  outside  completely  shadowed  in  darkness  .  it’s  peaceful  .  beautifully  peaceful  .

hermione  resting  in  bed  ,  draco  had  refused  to  let  her  stir  this  early  .  they  had  been  released  only  the  morning  before  ,  and  in  draco’s  eyes  ,  she  had  gone  above  and  beyond  ,  as  hermione  granger  always  did  .  having  showed  strength  that  the  silver-  haired  man  could  only  dream  to  muster  .  he  was  in  awe  of  her  —  as  draco  always  was  .

his  shirt  is  unbuttoned  ,  revealing  his  bare  chest  which  rose  and  fell  with  a  calmed  nature  .  against  it  ,  rests  the  cheek  of  a  tiny  baby  .  his  hand  holds  the  warm  bottle  ,  the  contents  scarce  now  .  a  clean  fresh  diaper  worn  and  a  yawn  that  seemed  to  move  her  whole  body  .  her  doting  father  looks  over  her  ,  a  protective  hand  keeping  her  stable  .

it’s  silent  in  the  room  .  even  the  birds  occupying  the  trees  outside  barely  make  a  hum  ,  and  draco  allows  himself  this  peace  .

a  peace  he  didn’t  deserve  .  or  perhaps  ,  he  believed  he  didn’t  .  refined  ,  reinvented  ,  revived  or  not  .  such  a  peace  was  a  gift  ,  one  for  those  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  pave  the  path  for  one  .

but    there    was    something    .    something    inside    him    .    that    the    small    little    child    in    his    arms    ,    who    he    loved    so    dearly    already    ,    would    be    the    first    being    he’s    loved    that    had    not    known    his    past    .    who’s    vision    would    not    be    tainted    by    the    mistakes    that    plagued    draco’s    conscience    .    it    was    with    this    ,    that    he    felt    hope    .

a  human  .  a  little  girl  .  with  a  muggle-born  mother  .  carrying  the  malfoy  name  .  no  greater  joy  brought  to  draco  ,  in  knowing  that  lucius  malfoy  would  find  himself  repulsed  at  the  very  concept  of  it  .  

ophelia  stirs  ,  allowing  a  large  yawn  to  escape  .  draco  readjusts  her  ,  grey  eyes  absorbing  every  perfect  detail  of  her  .  he  understood  ,  in  the  very  instant  that  she  took  her  first  breath  ,  that  every  single  thing  his  mother  had  done  ,  every  stride  taken  to  protect  him  ,  it  had  all  made  complete  sense  .   ophelia  narcissa  .   even  now  ,  his  eyes  water  —  it  was  a  miracle  to  him  that  it  had  even  lapsed  over  the  course  of  the  last  few  days  .  

“  i’m  sorry  ,  darling  .  i’m  not  always  such  a  mess  ,  i  promise  you  .”  he  mumbles  to  the  sleeping  bundle  ,  pulling  himself  from  the  chair  and  returning  to  the  side  of  the  crib  .

as  he  places  her  down  ,  he  leans  his  elbows  against  the  railing  ,  his  daughter’s  eyes  have  fluttered  open  —  a  rich  brown  ,  just  a  few  shades  lighter  than  her  mother’s  .  they  remain  only  for  merely  a  second  before  slowly  lulling  shut  once  more  . 

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he knew .   — 001 . conrad . 

triggers:  cancer , smoking , drinking , panic attacks , anxiety , tsitp spoilers . 

mentioned: belly conklin , susannah fisher , jeremiah fisher , laurel dunne . 

he  knew . it  didn’t  seem  to  matter  what  ,  somehow  conrad  always  knew. he  knew  the  greatest  spots  for  hide  and  seek  ,  exactly  what  to  say  to  avoid  trouble  with  his  mother  ,  how  to  succeed  in  nearly  any  hobby  or  sport  and  conrad  fisher  knew  ,  in  no  uncertain  terms  ,  that  he  would  do  anything  and  everything  isabel  conklin  ever  wanted. he  was  sure  his  mother  knew  that  too. maybe  that’s  where  he  got  it  from.

conrad  had  known  years  ago  ,  the  summers  now  having  melted  together  but  the  details  remained  always  seem  to  have  more  in  common  than  the  last. he  could  admit  the  first  few  times  was  his  own  mother’s  doing  ,  that  her  and  laurel  would  maintain  their  spot  on  the  couch  while  insisting  belly  join  the  boys  on  their  excursion. it  had  extracted  the  same  whine  from  the  three  of  them. conrad  was  ten  ,  steven  not  far  behind  and  jeremiah  had  mastered  riding  his  bike  the  summer  before  —  their  backpacks  were  packed  ,  bikes  prepared  for  the  long  journey  into  the  coastal  town  streets. it  was  somewhere  between  this  summer  and  the  following  that  there  was  a  shift  —  from  steven’s  tattletale  sister  and  the  shadow  of  their  mothers’  to  a  friend.

steven  and  jeremiah  did  not  endorse  this. in  fact  ,  conrad’s  fondness  teetered  on  the  butt  of  a  joke  ,  though  neither  boy  ever  stood  up  against  him  for  it  ,  nothing  more  than  a  snide  remark  here  and  there. it  had  grown  more  difficult  to  tease  her  when  the  leader  of  the  group  rejected  it  —  every  ball  thrown  out  of  her  reach  retrieved  ,  accepted  dance  offers  at  her  request  and  his  eagerness  to  join  her  on  her  own  adventures    —  the  belly  flops  remained  however  ,  but  that  was  tradition.

it  was  a  warm  fondness  ,  one  that  childhood  had  allowed  conrad  to  accept. their  summers  spent  together  were  looked  forward  to  ,  the  calendar  countdowns  in  their  home  to  the  day  laurel  would  arrive  with  the  kids  in  tow.

the  summer  following  his  mother’s  first  stint  in  chemo  had  been  different. though  her  optimism  had  never  faltered  —  it  was  her  nature. that  summer  had  felt  real  ,  it  was  this  summer  that  he  experienced  the  tightening  within  his  chest. like  every  ounce  of  air  had  left  his  lungs  ,  the  aching  for  a  breath  was  painful. it  lasted  a  few  minutes  ,  with  his  hands  shaking  ,  legs  hanging  off  the  foot  of  the  bed  before  the  feeling  dissolved. he  never  thought  about  it  again  ,  and  never  spoke  a  word  of  it. it  was  better  that  way.

it  was  this  summer  ,  faced  with  a  different  perspective  and  with  a  slap  of  reality  that  he  had  questioned  the  nature  of  fondness  towards  belly. having  found  himself  awake  ,  wondering  the  origin  of  it. that  the  object  of  steven’s  complaints  ,  spoken  over  energy  drinks  on  a  make-shift  wooden  raft  had  become  someone  entirely  different.

the  last  summer  spent  in  cousins  had  an  unspoken  finality  to  it. that  he  knew. because  that  year  ,  conrad  had  known  three  things  ,  all  of  which  rested  within  him.

he  knew  that  his  mother  was  sick  again  ,  that  the  cancer  was  back  and  that  her  attempts  for  a  perfect  summer  were  due  to  this  being  her  last  summer.

he  knew  his  father  had  cheated  ,  that  his  mother  knew  and  that  their  separation  was  coming. the  heroic  idol  shattered  within  months  ,  filled  with  a  newfound  hatred  for  the  man  that  he  once  molded  his  entire  being  to  impress. conrad  held  no  hesitation  in  this  ,  he  would  take  his  mother’s  side  ,  always.

he  knew  the  fondness  was  more. he  knew  it  was  love  and  had  been  developed  over  the  many  sunsets  shared  throughout  the  summer. conrad  had  purchased  a  necklace  that  may  ,  the  symbol  of  infinity  tucked  within  a  small  black  bag. it  was  for  her  birthday  ,  a  special  meaning  between  the  pair.

the  third  ,  unfortunately  ,  was  swept  over  by  the  first  two. the  drastic  change  only  manageable  with  the  numbness  of  weed  ,  alcohol  and  of  ending  his  nights  alone. all  three  things  were  secrets  ,  ones  that  needed  to  remain  unspoken. his  mother  had  wanted  a  perfect  summer  ,  and  he  would  do  everything  in  his  power  to  ensure  her  wish  was  met.

belly’s  arrival  had  forced  a  very  different  route  —  and  conrad  couldn’t  exactly  understand  why  he  had  underestimated  it. she  simply  had  that  effect  on  people. that  summer  had  caused  an  entirely  new  set  of  challenges  ,  conrad  even  attempted  to  tell  belly  about  his  parents  —  hoping  that  it  would  make  things  easier  ,  to  have  someone  to  speak  to  ,  having  refused  to  place  it  on  jeremiah. it  seemed  that  every  moment  was  cut  short  ,  which  only  seemed  to  make  it  worse.

it  was  the  hardest  summer  ,  conrad  would  admit. the  brief  moments  of  himself  brought  out  only  in  her  presence  ,  the  very  idea  of  her  reviving  him.

the  final  moment  ,  spent  on  cleveland’s  boat  had  seemed  to  be  closure  needed. he  wanted  belly  ,  but  it  was  selfish. the  very  idea  that  his  actions  could  cause  any  hurt  towards  her  was  enough  for  him  to  back  away  ,  to  force  the  distance  needed  to  ensure  that  it  was  best  for  her. he  needed  to  work  on  himself  to  be  what  she  wanted  ,  and  he  would  ,  in  time.

the  pain  in  her  eyes  had  haunted  him  since  then. although  it  had  been  the  final  push  he  needed  ,  and  her  birthday  crept  up  faster  than  expected. it  always  seemed  to. their  family  dinner  ,  missing  jeremiah  and  steven  had  left  conrad  quickly  scarfing  down  every  last  bit  of  food  on  his  plate. he  had  texted  her  just  after  leaving  the  table  ,  to  meet  in  one  hour  ,  7pm  at  the  deck.

his  mother's  conversation  ,  scheduled  for  after  the  dinner  had  as  many  tears  shed  as  expected  ,  with  conrad  ,  tearfully  explaining  to  her  that  he  knew. he  knew  it  all. begging  her  for  treatment. his  fingers  listing  off  the  reasons  he  needed  her  ,  how  they  all  needed  her. it  was  wrapped  in  his  mother's  arms  that  he  explained  the  necklace  ,  as  it  sits  in  the  pockets  of  his  beige  shorts. and  why  he  was  giving  it  to  belly.

she  knew.

and  he  knew  that  too.

with  his  face  still  blotchy  ,  conrad  opted  for  a  quick  shower. his  brown  hair  darkened  ,  a  few  pieces  held  together  as  they  fell  over  his  face. 6:45pm.

7pm  ,  and  the  sound  of  footsteps . his  chest  is  tightening  but  this  reason  is  not  unknown. it  was  her  effect  ,  one  of  comfort. of  a  thrill  he  never  could  explain. he's  placed  the  necklace  into  her  hand  ,  a  connie  smile  having  completely  taken  over  his  features. "  i'm  sorry  it's  a  little  late. i  had  some  things  to  figure  out. but  --  i  would  never  forget  your  birthday. you  probably  know  that. "  nervous. his  cheeks  are  flushed  ,  and  it's  almost  like  he's  been  transported  to  the  glasses-sporting  connie  in  the  living  room  ,  counting  out  their  steps  as  he  teaches  her  to  dance.

"  you  are  everything  that  i  want. everything  i  need. "  the  sound  of  blood  is  rushing  through  his  ears  ,  he's  ignoring  it  ,  as  best  he  can. "  i  love  you  ,  i've  always  loved  you. "  one  hand  has  moved  to  her  face  ,  a  thumb  against  her  sun-kissed  cheek . his  eyes  are  on  her  ,  her  alone . as  they  always  seemed  to  be . they  gravitated  toward  her  ,  even  when  he  couldn't  help  it . "  i  will  infinitely,  i  know  that. "

[nevcrmcre]

red , white and blue .  — 001 . steve . 

triggers:  n/a

mentioned:  tony stark,  morgan  stark , peter parker .

the suit was a symbol . steve had once embraced it , just as he did the silver star so prominent on his shield . it stood for strength , resilience and a destiny of freedom . but not of his own .

no . steve had been destined for a far different future , treated — programmed — like a machine , seeking for justice — and little else . these things were easy , when it’s all someone has known , there had been no desire for anything else .

his life here had displayed a different path — more so , the ability to take it . a winding road of family , a different form of teamwork and the strange familiar flutter of a heart that he had never been able to act on . until now .

his life here had brought a domestic piece that even steve himself had not known he needed . his time spent with morgan and peter , living in the blissful moments brought with them and with tony . the pair had fought in union — and against each other . though steve would admit , he favoured the arguments over the need of sleep — to the hazy mornings before a run through the park , sliding the sheets back over the sleeping stark . these had become treasured for him .

even now , their plans had changed . the quiet morning taking in the activities of the beach , traded for a few civilian rescues . the storm had torn apart much of the surrounding outskirts areas , trees ripped apart to the roots and the land was completely saturated in some areas . it’s a rumble , with steve ushering a crowd into a secure location further down through the tree line , he realizes he’s lost sight of him .

having dipped back into the area , steve follows his voice — easily locating his boyfriend ( with a soft relieved sigh ) , a flash of white perfect teeth . this smile vanishes as he catches the panic in tony’s voice , having removed his own mask as he attempts to inspect for injuries . tony’s grasp on him is tightened , and steve tries to get his own arms around the large suit , reassuring . “ i’m okay — hey , tony . look . i’m fine . i was jus— “ mm . huh ? it’s a wash of confusion , mixed with some certain shock — but steve leans in , both of his hands finding tony’s face as he crashes his lips against his .

[nevcrmcre]

KORI .  # all of our ships 

ABRA   &   DYLAN

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone:   abracadabra.                  -   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:   

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone:   abracadabra   -   steve   miller   band   .   

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse:   DYLAN: “ on   google   again   ? “

BECK   &   CARLISLE

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone:   becks. ❤️   

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone:  default ringtone. ( he’s 400 years old. )  

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse:  CARLISLE:  “ i'll   pick   up   a   bottle   of   wine. “

BOBBY   &   WEDNESDAY

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone:   mr. married man. 

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone:  halloween - main theme - john carpenter . 

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse: WEDNESDAY: “ you're   a   fucking   idiot  . “

CORA   &   STILES

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone:   cora ( scary )

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone:  princess leia’s theme. ( star wars )

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse: STILES: “ I   HAVE   A   FLAT   TIRE   .  “

NELL  &  DEAN 

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone:  nellie

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone: fool in the rain - led zeppelin

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse: DEAN: “ charlie said i should grow out my hair because i look ugly with short hair. “

PADME & ANAKIN

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone:  my angel . 

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone: angel eyes - jeff healey

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse: ANAKIN: “ join me in the bath , my love ? “

REBEKAH & PETER 

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone:  bekah  😍

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone: you and me - lifehouse

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse: PETER: “ i’m gonna DIE you’re so pretty . “

SHAGGY & DAPHNE

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone:  my shaggy  👻

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone: daylight - taylor swift

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse: DAPH: “ come kiss meeeee . “

VERONICA & SODAPOP

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone: my wife 🤤

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone: cheek to cheek - fred astaire

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse: SODA: “ kisses INCOMING! “

PERCY & JULIET

-   what   your   muse’s   name   is   in   mine’s   phone: fave weasley  😊

-   what   your   muse’s   picture   is   in   mine’s   phone:  contact picture.

-   what   your   muse’s   ringtone   is   in   mine’s   phone: fearless - taylor swift

-   my   muse’s   last   text   to   your   muse: JULIET: “ i’m just a little lonely, i guess.  “

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cell phone headcanons

send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including:                              - what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone                              - what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone                              - what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone                              - my muse’s last text to your muse

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* talk about your muse!

send 🍯 for a food headcanon

send🥛for a drink headcanon

send 🐢 for a mental health headcanon

send 🦄 for a physical health headcanon

send ⌛for a sleep headcanon

send 💕 for a love headcanon

send 💣 for a stress headcanon

send 😵 for a sickness headcanon

send 🤲 for a religious headcanon

send 🏡 for a home headcanon

send 🍬 for a family headcanon

send 💼 for a work headcanon

send ⛈️ for a sadness headcanon

send 😡 for an anger headcanon

send 💩 for a ridiculous headcanon

send 🌼 for a happiness headcanon

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anne shirley - cuthbert  /  001 .

o ’ christmas tree . 

triggers: none.

mentioned: diana barry , gilbert blythe . 

with   a   dripping   nose   and   the   overwhelming   urge   to   brush   her   sleeve   against   it,   anne’s   eyes   remained   casting   forward,   darting   amongst   the   nearby   trees.   crunch,   crunch,   crunch.   her   boots   smash   through   the   icy   layer   brought   on   from   the   frigid   overnight   temperatures,   as   more   begins   to   fall,   snowflakes   powdering   over   the   area.   this   dusting   of   fresh   snow   included   the   bright-eyed   redhead   and   her   amusingly   eager   companion.   her   voice   had   not   flattered   from   the   moment   they   began   their   venture,   with   anne   having   covered   every   topic   from   subjects,   to   students,   to   an   important   geographic   fact   pertaining   to   the   town.   nothing   seemed   to   have   been   left   unspoken.   it   had   fallen   back   to   her   students,   mostly   due   to   the   overwhelming   anxiousness   she   seemed   to   feel   over   the   concert   the   following   evening.  

“   –   and   then   i   had   to   fish   him   out   of   the   make-shift   boat.   can   you   imagine?   fishing   the   baby   jesus   out   of   the   frozen   river?   marilla   would   have   dropped   at   the   very   sight   of   it.”   her   tone   is   exasperated,   but   with   a   still   evident   fondness.  

the   sound   of   her   voice,   mixed   with   the   harmonious   sound   of   the   wooden   sleigh   towed   by   gilbert   against   the   snow   had   made   their   hour   and   a   half   search   bearable   but   even   anne’s   fingers   had   grown   uncomfortably   numb   and   she   longed   to   conclude   this   portion   of   the   adventure.   not   once   to   settle,   they   had   neared   the   two   hour   mark   when   anne   spotted   her.  

a   mighty   evergreen,   it’s   branches   wide   and   full   –   looking   as   though   it   had   been   taken   straight   from   a   christmas   card.   taking   as   large   steps   as   her   legs   could   manage,   anne   had   inspected   the   tree   closely,   pulling   the   small   snow-soaked   strings   of   her   knit   cap   tighter   under   her   chin.  

“this   is   the   one.   i   will   call   her   evangeline.”   she   states,   a   look   of   triumph   present   even   in   the   presence   of   her   wind-burned   freckled   cheeks.  

—

“it   was   a   fluke.”   her   arms   are   crossed,   rivaling   that   of   a   child’s   tantrum.   evangeline,   strapped   comfortably   onto   the   sleigh,   with   a   kiss   on   each   knot   for   luck   –   given   to   her   by   anne.   her   arms   ache,   though   her   admittance   of   this   would   not   come.   gilbert’s   impressive   –   if   you   would   call   it   that   –   swing   had   overshadowed   her   struggle   to   even   lift   the   heavy   axe   but   she   believed   even   her   measly   attempt   had   somehow   made   it   easier   for   him.  

she   trails   along   with   him,   her   nose   a   heightened   shade   of   rose   and   sniffling.   there   is   no   hiding   her   relief   as   the   chimney   of   her   home   is   visible   past   the   sloping   hills,   her   eyes   had   moved   from   this   comforting   image   to   gilbert   beside   her.   gilbert,   who   seemed   unphased   by   the   cool   situation,   and   who   tugged   the   sleigh   with   ease.   an   internal   pause.   her   glance   remains,   an   expression   of   amusement   flickering   across   her   face.  

— in avonlea . 

the   fortress   is   steady,   well-built   and   the   packed   snow   has   been   smoothed   to   form   the   perfect   snow   fort.   anne   sits   inside,   awaiting   diana.   but   at   the   very   moment,   she   is   protecting   her   fortress   from   a   dragon.   a   large   icicle   for   a   sword,   anne’s   imagination   had   depicted   a   bright   red   dragon,   with   flames   ignited   from   it’s   nostrils.   lady   princess   cordelia   of   green   gables,   the   mightiest   warrior   known   to   man.   beautiful   but   powerful.   queen   worthy.   now,   she   defended   her   village   from   attack,   bravely   serving   seven   as   the   dragon   had   wiped   out   her   entire   army.   she   stood   alone.   the   dragon   had   charged,   and   lady   princess   cordelia   had   held   her   sword   high,   until   her   day   dream   had   been   shattered.   a   boy’s   face   had   appeared   from   what   felt   like   thin   air,   destroying   her   illusion.   dark   curls   tucked   under   a   cap,   he   rested   his   arms   and   chin   on   the   ledge   of   the   fortress.   it   was   the   smirk,   essentially,   that   had   set   her   off.  

“can   i   help   you,   gilbert   blythe?”   her   voice   is   sharp   and   raw,   angry.  

the   day   had   ended   with   anne   storming   from   the   fortress   shortly   after,   kicking   it   until   it   collapsed.   in   her   rage,   she   had   pushed   past   him,   refusing   to   even   look   at   his   face.   it   was   handsome   and   she   was   in   no   mood   to   find   herself   flushed   over   it.   he   was   the   worst.  

“i   don’t   need   a   knight   in   shining   armor.   i   am   a   knight   and   i   was   doing   just   fine   until   you   ruined   it.”  

—

even   her   dislike   then   had   been   from   her   own   bubbling   grudge   that   had   hovered   over   gilbert   for   much   of   her   adolescence   .   anne   struggled   when   it   came   to   succumbing   to   her   own   anger   .   now   ,   she   looked   on   him   with   a   fondness   that   had   been   buried   beneath   it   .   love   ,   she   knew   this   for   certain   . the   redhead   slides   her   arm   under   his,   hooking   it   as   she   walks   in   mirrored   pace   with   him.   her   knit-gloved   hand   then   slides   into   the   pocket   of   her   jacket,   eyes   leaving   him   and   returning   straight   ahead.   .  

—  

“left..   no,   wait.   right.   left.   left.”   gilbert’s   arms   are   locked   around   anne’s   waist,   her   feet   dangle   off   the   ground   and   both   arms   are   upwards   with   a   golden   star   in   her   hands.   a   crackle   of   the   fireplace   illuminating   the   living   room   area,   and   allowing   heat   to   fill   the   home.   anne   was   readjusting   the   final   decoration,   and   although   it   had   taken   nearly   five   times   to   get   it   into   the   correct   position.   the   star   was   finally   placed   in   the   center.   her   hands   leave   the   ornament,   resting   on   gilbert’s   forearms   before   she   taps   them   and   requests   to   be   brought   to   the   ground.   once   her   feet   had   touched   the   ground,   anne   had   smoothed   her   skirts,   taking   a   step   back   to   admire   their   progress.  

as   if   sensing   it’s   completion,   the   kettle   had   whistled,   and   anne   had   removed   it   from   the   stove   before   pouring   their   mugs   with   the   tea.   her   return   to   the   living   room   was   prompted,   but   she   did   not   hand   the   mug   to   gilbert.   not   yet.   instead,   she   had   approached   her   china   cabinet,   taking   a   small   box   into   both   of   her   hands   and   covering   it   from   his   view.  

“  i   spent   most   of   the   last   few   weeks   going   over   what   i   would   say.”   anne   begins,   one   of   her   hands   had   reached   for   his,   taking   it   tenderly   as   her   speech   continued.   “i   needed   it   to   be   perfect,   one   can   say   so   much   of   nothing   but   i   had   to   make   sure   each   word   was   carefully   picked   and   processed.   i   had   not   wished   to   make   it   too   long.   though   i   could,   there   is   no   lack   of   things   to   say.   ”   her   throat   has   cleared,   her   strong   voice   burning   with   the   passion   it   so   often   did.

“  your   patience   is   something   that   i   admire,   i   do   not   know   whether   i   would   have   the   resilience   you   did   in   this   situation.   i   know   i   have   made   you   wait   a   very   long   time,   i   had   grown   worried   that   maybe   your   feelings   had   faded.   you   have   made   it   more   than   known   that   they   have   not.   you   have   asked   nothing   of   me   but   to   love   you   and   allow   you   to   love   me,   and   though   i   had   forced   barriers   on   the   second,   let   me   assure   you   that   the   first   has   always   been   present   for   me.   those   barriers   will   be   lifted,   as   much   as   i   can   possibly   lift   them   to   allow   you   the   freedom   to   love   me   as   you   have   wanted   to.   whether   i   was   willing   to   admit   it   or   not,   the   love   i   have   harbored   for   you   has   always   been   evident.   i   have   loved   you   dearly,   and   i   will   continue   to   do   so.   i   believe   i   will   forevermore,   if   i   may   be   so   candid   to   say  .”  

anne   has   dropped   onto   one   knee,   her   skirt   pinned   down   by   the   opposite   knee,   which   rested   on   the   floor.   her   hand   still   holds   onto   one   of   his,   the   free   hand   holding   up   the   box   and   opening   to   reveal   the   diamond   studded   band.   bright   eyes   are   wide,   one   of   her   most   distinguished   features,   and   hopeful   as   she   fixated   on   him.

“ i   want   to   spend   the   rest   of   my   life   with   you,   it   has   and   will   always   be   you.   i   will   love   you   until   my   very   last   breath,   and   i   will   never   allow   you   to   go   a   day   not   knowing   that.   i   ask   you   to   please,   marry   me,   gilbert   blythe.   you   will   be   mine   forever,   and   i   will   be   yours. ”  

she   concludes,   her   grip   on   his   hand   a   bit   tighter,   the   anxiousness   undeniable.   his   face   brightens,   anne   watches   a   brilliant   smile,   his   beautiful   smile,   take   its   place.   an   answer,   she   eagerly   awaits,   soon   sounds.   a   held   breath   releasing.  

“  no.  ”  

he’s   smiling   still,   as   anne   clambers   to   her   feet.   her   cheeks   are   hot,   heat   licking   against   them   as   if   to   burn   them,   turning   them   as   harshly   red   they   almost   melted   into   the   freckles   so   prominent   on   her   cheeks.   she   stares,   tears   almost   threatening   but   her   stunned   exterior   did   not   allow   them   to   fall.   had   she   been   wrong ?

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SCREAM (1996) dir. Wes Craven

Billy Loomis: ( ͝סּ ͜ʖ͡סּ)

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A Dinner Date With Barbara Palvin & Dylan Sprouse | British Vogue

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24/7

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The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 2 (2012)

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THE GREAT | 1x02 “The Beard”

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tarot reader: now I will show you your fortune

me: cool I guess

tarot reader: why is every card death, what the fuck, I don’t even have that many death cards

me: figures

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LOVE, VICTOR (2020— ) Season 2, Episode 6