#anne and gilbert married

[francesderwent]

completely serious ask game lol

send me a song that I should play as I enter my wedding reception

[jomiddlemarch]

christmas prompt #6, anne/gilbert!

“I’m sorry, Anne, truly,” Gilbert said, his arm warm around her waist, the words dropping as softly as the snow that had begun to fall. 

“I’m not,” Anne replied. She didn’t dare glance up at him. He was tall and sturdily built and it was taking a great deal of determination to serve as his crutch, which she could hardly let him see. He’d be sure to insist she go to fetch someone to help him back, as if she’d leave him sitting beside the frozen pond with only his great-coat and scarlet muffler to keep him from becoming a block of ice. She could also feel her nose turning an unbecoming red in the cold and was vain enough not to want Gilbert to notice.

“You ought to be,” he said, wincing as he made an entirely unsuccessful attempt to bear some of his own weight. Like every doctor she’d ever heard of, he made a poor patient, a fact she intended to share with him just as soon as they were settled safely back at Ingleside, Susan whipping up a delicious pot of her famous vegetable soup, “known to keep body and soul together, Mrs. Doctor, a tonic far tastier than anything the Doctor ever prescribed.”

“Let’s not have any oughts or shoulds,” Anne said. “It was a wonderful idea, an afternoon of skating, just you and I, the way we never did back in Avonlea. I had a lovely time, you thought of everything, the flask of hot tea and those lemon biscuits—”

“And then I nearly crushed you, falling like the greatest oaf, as if I’d never worn a pair of skates before,” Gilbert interrupted. “If you weren’t so quick and graceful, I’d have hurt you badly.”

“That’s quite enough,” Anne said, letting her voice hold the faintest hint of Marilla’s regular asperity. “You didn’t come close to toppling me and the only consequence is your poor sprained ankle. If you’re quite sure it isn’t broken, you’re limping terribly.”

“I’m sure I can diagnose a broken ankle, whether I’m the patient or yet another one of the infinite McPherson clan,” Gilbert said. “It’s just a sprain—”

“A bad one,” Anne said. “I saw how you looked when you tried to stand up, don’t try to convince me otherwise. You shan’t and it will be a waste of your strength.”

“You’re not wrong,” Gilbert said, which she knew was as far as he would go in allowing he was in pain. She made a quick mental inventory of the pillows in the sitting room and decided which ones she’d use to prop up his foot. The squashy green velvet one she sewed just before Walter was born, the one he said made her look like a most industrious nymph, would at the top of the pile. “Why aren’t you sorry, though, Anne-girl? If you’re not sorry the skating ended early, it sounds rather heartless and that’s the last word I’d use to describe you.”

“I’m not sorry because I loved skating with you, Gil,” she said. “It felt like heaven, flying about the ice, and though I’d never want you to be injured, now you’ll have to rest for a few days. You can’t drive the carriage with your bad ankle. I’ll have you all to myself at Ingleside, Dr. Blythe unable to attend clinic or conduct any house-calls. I can’t think of the last time you had to stay at home and let yourself be tended to. You’ll have to let me be the one who takes care of you.”

“It sounds like work,” Gilbert said. “Me, a useless lump stuck on the sofa, Jem and Walter running you ragged—"

“I shan’t tell Susan you said that,” Anne replied. “She’ll reproach you so long and thoroughly you’ll wish you’d sprained both ankles or knocked yourself insensible. The boys will be delighted that Papa is home and happy to read them stories and Susan will be overjoyed to make us all twice as many of her little snacks as usual and when Jem and Walter are napping and Susan is in the kitchen, I’ll have you all to myself—”

“And what will you do with me?” Gilbert asked, his voice low, a little husky, startling to hear outside of their moonlit bedroom.

“That’s quite a good question,” Anne said. She risked a look at his face, the gleam in his hazel eyes obscuring any distress from his ankle or the growing cold. “You’ll be at my mercy, won’t you?”

“I will indeed,” he said. “I’m curious to see what form it will take.”

Nine months later, the form was apparent: twins, Di her mother’s image and Nan just as fair, with his own dark curls and eyes. He’d laughingly suggested they name Diana Mercy, but Anne, tired but indomitable, had only shaken her head and cuddled the swaddled babies a little closer.

[cupcakeblake]

okay so im watching the last few ep and anne and gilbert are so FRUSTRATING

[thebirdandhersong]

Deeply obsessed with the way Nikolai looks at Alina actually

[kittlyns]

I want what Anne and Diana had....... pre-marriages ofc. Let me frolick in fields of wildflowers with my kindred spirit bestie while dramatically reading romantic poetry and weaving flowers into each other's hair and bullying the local shithead boy together ❤️

[hildyj]

I’m about one hundred pages into “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall” and every other page has me going

and I don’t even know what her obviously torrid backstory is yet, just leave Helen Graham to her son, her painting, and her dilapidated, Gothic manorhouse

[stargazing-imagines]

Run away with me! — Gilbert Blythe x fem!reader

Description — you and Gilbert are dating, but he asks you to run away with him after finding out that you are to be married to a middle aged man

Warnings — age gap mentioned, bad writing, if there’s anything let me know!

Fandom — Anne with an E

A/n— sorry it’s short, I haven’t written for awae in a while so I may be a little scratchy but I hope you enjoy!

You ran up the stairs towards your room, you just heard the news that your father has arranged you a marriage with a middle aged man in Charlottetown. To you this was horrible news.

You were walking towards Gilbert’s house, you stood on the porch for a second before knocking. When you did Bash answered the door

“Y/n! what brings you by?”

You wipe your cheeks, rubbing your hands together before speaking

“Hi, may I see Gilbert?” You asked, bash looked at you before nodding.

“Of course, want to come in or-“

“No, I really can’t stay long.”

——

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“It’s horrible, my parents made plans for me to get married to a middle aged man that I don’t even know an-“

“Wait, how old is this man?” Asked Gilbert as he had worry laced in his voice

“45…”

“Y/n! That is twice your age.” Said Gilbert “why would your parents do that? You are old enough to be his daughter.”

“Do you think my father cares?” You asked “no, all he wants is money.”

“Run away with me…” blurted out Gilbert “I’ll get a job in Toronto and we’ll get married at the courthouse-“

“You would do that for me?” You asked as you smiled

“Of course I would, I love you y/n.”

“Well, let’s do it!” You said as you smiled “let’s run away together.”

——

Anne with an E masterlist

[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. 

[cringe-but-proud]

Hey! Can I request a Willy Wonka x reader? I don’t know if you’ve ever read the Anne of green gables series but there’s a dialogue where Anne tells Gilbert “I don't want sunbursts or marble halls, I just want you.” and if you can, can you put that in with fem reader saying this to Wonka when he’s worried he won’t be able to make it big from just starting out and providing for them with all his setbacks and of course it’s all fluff and soft?

"Yes anon." The fanfic writers all say in unison.

Willy Wonka x gn!Reader (Wonka 2023)

A/n: Since Valentine's day is coming up, I sort of made this post themed around that. My requests are open 🤠

Willy had been very self conscious lately. Which was not something he was very used to feeling.

It all started one day when he'd overheard a couple men having a conversation on the street. They were talking about the lavish gifts they planned to give their wives for Valentine's day. Diamond rings, expensive dinners, personalized portraits, on and on.

Before then, he'd had no problem with his plan of giving you flowers, chocolate, and a card. But, now? That felt like nothing compared to what other guys were doing for their significant others.

His insecurity grew from there. His chocolate business had only just started out, but he felt like he wasn't making enough money. That's why he couldn't get you a fancy gift. And if he couldn't get you a fancy gift then how would he ever be able to even support you? You'd never want to marry him if he couldn't support you.

His insecurities snowballed until he was absolutely dreading February 14.

The day arrived and saying Willy was nervous to see you was an understatement.

The two of you had agreed to meet at your house. He knocked on the door, his heart racing and his hands feeling a bit sweaty. When you opened the door he swallowed nervously.

You smiled at him sweetly. "Hi, Willy!" You wrapped your arms around him in a hug and he relaxed a bit. "Happy Valentine's day!"

"Yeah, happy Valentine's day."

You pulled back from the hug and led him inside. "Can I give you your gift first?" You asked excitedly.

"Uh- Sure. Yeah." He sat at your kitchen table and watched as you left the room, seemingly to retrieve the gift.

"Close your eyes." You instructed. He did as you asked. After a moment he felt your presence behind him as you put your arms over his shoulders to hold something in front of him.

"Now open."

He opened his eyes.

In front of him was a framed picture. It was his favorite picture of the two of you. When it had been taken, Willy insisted that you kept it.

"I made the frame myself." You said with a proud smile. "Turn it around." He flipped the frame to see a heartfelt love poem on the back.

"This is amazing." He gushed, smiling as you sat next to him at the table. "Thank you." He pecked your cheek and you giggled.

The sweet moment was soured a bit when he realized he had to give you your gift now.

He handed you the bag your gift was in mumbling a quick "It's not much." as you eagerly looked inside.

First, you pulled out the chocolates. They were in a heart shaped box with a card attached.

You read the card before opening the box of chocolate.

"About half of them are your favorites, and the other half are ones I think you'd really enjoy." He says as you popped one into your mouth and let out a satisfied hum.

"I'm sure I'll love them all." You said as you reached into the bag and pulled out the bouquet he'd gotten you.

"I grew those for you."

"You grew these for me?" You repeated, astonished he'd put in that much work for you. "Willy, I love them!"

"You don't have to say that." He shakes his head.

You tilt your head, confused. You gently put the flowers on the table with your chocolates. "What do you mean?"

"You don't have to pretend you love the gift." He shrugged. "I know you've probably gotten flowers and chocolate dozens of times before, and I know it's not extravagant or-"

"Willy." You say his name softly. He gives his attention to you. "Why would I not love this gift? You made me my favorite chocolate! You grew me flowers! That's so romantic!"

"But..." He trailed off, looking away nervously.

"But, what?" You asked.

He paused. "It's not expensive, or fancy, or... Any of that stuff."

"Why would I care about that?"

"Because-" He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. "Because if I can't even give you a nice gift how am I supposed to buy you a wedding ring, or a house, or pay rent? How am I supposed to take care of you?"

You blinked. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You'd never heard him be this distressed over anything.

After a moment, you gently cup his cheek with your hand. He gazes at you with his big, brown eyes that are wet with tears and it breaks your heart a bit. "Willy... I don't want sunbursts," you say. "I don't want marble halls," you continue. "I don't want diamonds, or pearls, or any of that!" You pause. "I just want you."

Willy's speechless. He stares at you for a moment and then his lips crash into yours.

The two of you share a sweet kiss for a long moment until you break away. "I love you, okay?" You assure him softly.

He nods, a small smile on his lips. "Okay." He says. "I love you too."

[gogandmagog]

Reflecting today on the simplicity of the name ‘Ingleside’ for a house, compared to a good many other homes-with-names in Maud’s catalogue. Ingleside, together with the Disappointed House and the House of Dreams, are rare examples of the very special Montgomery houses… in that are actually given names by the characters in her books, as most houses that we meet in the series have already had their names decided, long ago.  In Anne of Ingleside, Anne says:  “We [she and Gilbert] had quite a time deciding on a name. We tried out several but they didn't seem to belong. But when we thought of Ingleside we knew it was the right one.”   Justaposing this against the importance of names and homes to Lucy Maud, Ingleside seems so schematic. Even if you double-up this thought with how choosy Anne is about places and their names.

Ingleside. Ingleside.

Ingle.

Side.

So then I thought I’d google what an Ingle is, or what it means:

And like... a ha.

And like, if it weren’t for the fact that Ingle is a even a Scottish word (Maud was very proud of her Scottish heritage, and very pleased to marry a Scottish man too, not even mentioning all the Scotchy surnames for her characters in all her books), I might’ve brushed this off as stretching. But now when I look at the word Ingleside, or DOMESTIC FIREside, I think of this name as a preservation or sequel of the name House of Dreams, because it points to the fruition and continuation of that dream that Gilbert had and the castle-in-air that Anne always inexplicably saw Gilbert in, despite herself, back in Anne of Avonlea. “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...” 

Gilbert’s final proposal, Anne of the Island by Lucy Maud Montgomery

[philippagordon]

“If you had married Roy Gardner, now,” continued Gilbert mercilessly, “you could have been ‘a leader in social and intellectual circles far away from Four Winds.’“

“Gilbert Blythe!”

“You know you were in love with him at one time, Anne.”

“Gilbert, that’s mean— ‘pisen mean, just like all the men,’ as Miss Cornelia says. I never was in love with him. I only imagined I was. You know that. You know I’d rather be your wife in our house of dreams and fulfillment than a queen in a palace.”

Anne’s House of Dreams, Chapter 14 “November Days”

[jomiddlemarch]

gingerbread

5. “I’m home,” Gilbert called out. He didn’t have to raise his voice much since the cottage wasn’t very large, but there was a certain pleasure in it he hadn’t had since Susan Baker had come to work for them and expected a reliable degree of decorum from Dr. Blythe and Mrs. Dr. that Gilbert and Anne felt obliged to satisfy, though there were nights they reminisced about the scrapes and nonsense they’d gotten up to growing up in Avonlea which would be bound to horrify Susan if she knew.

“I’m here,” she answered, her tone as glum as when she’d once dyed her red hair green. “In the kitchen, Gil.”

“Why, Anne, what in heaven’s name?” he said. She couldn’t blame him for his surprise, wouldn’t blame him if there had been some disapproval or judgment, for she was sitting on the floor in her stocking feet, streaked in flour, the striped cotton smock Miss Cornelia had made for her straining over her positively enormous belly.

“You’re home early,” she said.

“Old Josiah Simpson took a turn for the better, told me to go fishing or bring home my pretty missus some flowers,” he explained, a charming posy of wildflowers loosely grasped in his left hand. He laid them down on the table and knelt beside her.

“Sweetheart, what’s happened? Are you ill? Hurt?” he asked. “Is it the baby?”

“A fine mother I’d be blaming it on the baby, but I admit, it’s tempting,” Anne said, trying to wriggle into a more appropriate position, as if there could be one on the scrubbed kitchen floor.

“It’s nothing terrible, you don’t need to worry, it’s only embarrassing and frustrating and thank goodness Susan isn’t here to see it!”

“Why don’t I help you up and get you settled, then you can tell me all about it?” He reached over and took her hands, then managed to help her stand up and kept a hand at the small of her back as she lumbered over to the rocking chair in the sunny corner of the kitchen where Susan was wont to sit and knit if she ever managed a moment of quiet. Gilbert dragged over one of the kitchen chairs and sat before her, waiting patiently.

“I suppose it is the baby,” she began. “I’ve never had such a craving for sweets before and you can see by the size of me, it seems impossible to satisfy.”

“You know that’s completely normal and healthy,” Gil said. “I count us both blessed that you want something so unobjectionable. Mrs. Tom Taylor had to have stewed eel with strawberry compote and Mrs. Fred Walker wanted nothing but clams for weeks, I have it on good authority from Miss Cornelia, though I could always smell the clams before I even stepped a foot over the threshold.”

“Yes, that’s as may be. I wanted something sweet and so, I ate the last of the apple tart Susan left and tried a few of the sugar cookies in the jar, but none of it was right and I was still hungry and then I knew what I wanted. What your child was demanding,” Anne said.

“What?”

“The Blythe gingerbread,” Anne said and Gilbert grinned. “I thought it wouldn’t be too difficult, your mother had left a receipt when she visited, but it was impossible—I couldn’t reach anything with this,” she gestured to the curve of her belly, “getting in between me and the shelves, the kitchen table and the mixing bowls, and trying to open the oven door might as well have been Hercules’s thirteenth labor. I’ve made a mess of the kitchen and myself and worried you and I don’t even have one bite of gingerbread to show for it!”

Gilbert chuckled, a wonderful warm sound that had become ever more precious since they’d lost little Joy, and Anne rested one hand atop the apex of her belly, feeling the baby within respond with a reassuring kick.

“Well, that’s easily solved,” he said. “I guess those flowers I brought home weren’t the ones you needed. You just sit here and rest and let me make up a batch of the gingerbread.”

“That’s not fair, Gil, you worked all day and now you’re going to muck around in the kitchen because I can’t manage to make some biscuits,” Anne said.

“This isn’t work and I’ll have you know, I don’t muck around in any kitchen, let alone Susan Baker’s,” Gilbert said, standing up, taking off his coat, and putting Susan’s voluminous pinafore apron on over his waistcoat and trousers, rolling up his sleeves for good measure. It did seem to only be a few minutes before he’d gotten a big crockery bowl full of all the ingredients, his hands as deft in mixing up the dough as they were treating his patients or seeing to her delight in the privacy of their room, a thought which made Anne blush. Within an hour, he was setting before her a plate of freshly made gingerbread, cut into cunning little blossoms exactly like the ones in the bouquet he’d brought home. She took a bite and sighed as she tasted the spices, the rich sweetness of the molasses, the extra little crunch of the castor sugar he’d sprinkled on top.

“I have to tell you, you could never had made it, Anne-girl,” he said, sitting beside her again, the apron and rolled-up sleeves somehow making him look more manly and heart-stoppingly handsome, the touch of flour at his right temple a glimpse of their future. “My mother never includes all the ingredients or instructions in a receipt. She never wants anyone else to make her food as well as she does.”

“That’s iniquitous!” Anne exclaimed, but her mouth was still full of gingerbread.

“It doesn’t signify,” he said. “I know the receipt by heart, in every detail.”

[leaves-lilies-and-esther]

Anne with an E didn't invent feminism in the Anne of Green Gables series

I just saw a post on tumblr about how AWAE has feminism (as opposed to the original series, which apparently doesn't???) and my reply went past the word count, so here it is:

Firstly, I think that Anne is an incredibly well-done feminist character in her own right, and that's what offers her enduring popularity. She literally smacks a slate over the head of a boy who comments on her looks, publishes stories, is the first girl from Avonlea to go to Redmond, succeeds wildly at Queen's, is principal of a school, refuses to marry at all unless it's for love, etc. Moreover, she does all of this while being interested in fashion and typical 'girly' things, as well as remaining a flawed character who still feels completely real. She doesn't reject femininity, but she does as she pleases.

It's not like the books push sexism under the rug, either. The mathematics professor at Redmond "detested coeds, and had bitterly opposed their admission to Redmond". The older women of Avonlea don't particularly approve, either- Anne gets plenty of discouragement that Gilbert and Charlie Sloane never receive, and some even admit that they don't find it particularly proper for a girl to receive so much higher education. Specifically, she's told that she's only going to get married. Later in the books people inform her that she will never be married because she's "too particular" (Mrs. Harmon or Jane's mom), and that she should just settle as soon as she can. This is only in Anne of The Island alone, btw. In either the first or second book I think she even voices support for women being ministers, which isn't even a position to be taken for granted today.

There are loads of things I love about AWAE- Ka'kwet's storyline was amazing and added so smoothly, the casting is superb, etc. But they didn't introduce feminism to the series. In effect, I've also heard the argument that AWAE is less feminist. They take out so many of Anne's accomplishments at Redmond, as principal, actually getting published, etc. They remove her conviction on marrying for love. They end her story when she kisses Gilbert as if that's the end of all things lovable and Anne-related (although I know that's more the fault of Netflix than the directors). We never see the town's canonical reaction to going to Redmond, staying a single pringle for as long as she did, etc. In fact, quite the opposite, because the show kind of rushed Anne and Gilbert together, and as a result missed huge chunks of their friendship and romance. Again, not the fault of the directors, but I can only react to what we actually got... which is the removal of everything feminist about the original series. Yes, they added other points, but still...

Idk, I adore both but it still irks me when people say "if Anne was alive today/written more recently she'd be a huge feminist!!!". Yes, but she already was... in her own time. Anne-girl was a rebel from the start!

All hail Queen Anne 👑

[the-moral-of-the-rose]

If anybody wanted to write a crossover between L.M. Montgomery's books, here is a little help with the ages of the characters (@no-where-near-hero maybe it will be a tiny help for your fanfic):

Anne Shirley - born on 5th of March 1865

Gilbert Blythe - born in 1862 or 1863

James Matthew "Jem" Blythe - born in July 1893

Walter Cuthbert Blythe - born in 1894

Anne "Nan" and Diana "Di" Blythe - born in 1896

Shirley Blythe - born in 1888*

Bertha Marilla "Rilla" Blythe - born in 1900*

Gerald "Jerry" Meredith - born 1894

Faith Meredith - born 1895

Una Meredith - born 1896

Thomas Carlyle "Carl" Meredith - born 1897

Jims Anderson - born in August of 1914

Emily Byrd Starr - born on 19th of May 1888

Ilse Burnley - born in 1888 (probably)

Perry Miller - born in 1887

Frederick "Teddy" Kent - 1887 or 1888

Dean Priest - born in 1865

Patricia "Pat" Gardiner - born in 1913

Rachel "Rue" Gardiner - born in 1919

Winnifred "Winnie" Gardiner - born in 1910

Sidney "Sid" Gardiner - born in 1912

Joseph"Joe" Gardiner - born in 1908

Hilary Gordon - born in 1911

Elizabeth "Bets" Wilcox - born in 1913

David Kirk - born around 1893

Jane Stuart - born in May 1918 or 1919

Valancy Stirling* - born 1883**

Barney Snaith - born 1877**

Cecilia "Cissy" - born 1886**

Olive Stirling - born 1884**

Gay Penhallow - born in 1904***

Nan Penhallow - born in 1904***

Roger Dark - born in 1890***

Donna Dark - born between 1894 and 1896***

Virginia Powell - born between 1894 and 1896***

Peter Penhallow - born between 1888 and 1890***

Margaret Penhallow - born 1872***

Brian Dark - born 1916***

Hugh Dark - born in 1887***

Joscelyn Penhallow: born between 1889-1892***

*In both Anne of Ingleside and Rainbow Valley Shirley is two years older than Rilla. But in Rilla of Ingleside, he turns eighteen few months before Rilla... it is pure chaos. Rilla was supposed to be nearly fourteen, according to the RV, in 1914, but she is nearly fifteen in RoI. So I apologize, but I had a lot of trouble here...

**The Blue Castle is the most difficult to place in time. It is set several years before it was published, and in my own opinion: before Tangled Web and Pat of Silver Bush. Why? Because of this reference: "This was before the day of bobs and was regarded as a wild, unheard-of proceeding—unless you had typhoid." (The Blue Castle). Bobs were already "in fashion" at the beginning of Pat of Silver Bush (so, in 1919, when Pat was six years old: it was said that Winnie wanted to have her hair bobbed) and in Tangled Web (which is set in 1922). Yet, the cars, motorboats and movie theaters were a rather common occurence in The Blue Castle's times. But... there might be an explanation. Valancy doesn't live on PEI, which might have been a little "behind" the rest of Canada, as far as modern technology went. It is my own personal opinion, but I think that it might be set just before the war, at the same time as the end Emily's Quest. I know that the clothes seem more "modern" in TBC, but Emily wore "a little sport suit" and dress that was described as followed "there was so little of it". Teddy and Perry both had cars, as sone of Ilse's cousins. I would say that the Blue Castle book might be set around 1912-1913. Still, the timeline is extremely elusive. Please, let me know, dear Blue Castle Book Club's members, what is your opinion? I think I have read some amazing discussion about TBC's timeline a long time ago, but if I remember correctly, everyone was certain that this novel was set post WWI (me included, until this very moment when I tried to place Pat and Tangled Web and remembered the "bob" quote). So I choose 1912 as the beginning of TBC, when Valancy was twenty-nine.

*** the ages of characters in Tangled Web:

"They were first cousins, who were born the same day and married the same day,--Donna to her own second cousin, Barry Dark, and Virginia to Edmond Powell--two weeks before they had left for Valcartier. Edmond Powell had died of pneumonia in the training camp, but Barry Dark had his crowded hour of glorious life somewhere in France." (Tangled Web).

"Virginia Powell, whose husband had been dead eight years and who was young and tolerably beautiful" (Tangled Web).

"Valcartier, Quebec was the primary training base for the First Canadian Contingent in 1914."

- from: https://www.warmuseum.ca/firstworldwar/history/going-to-war/canada-enters-the-war/training-at-valcartier/

So, from this I assumed that Virginia's husband died in 1914 (so Tangled Web is set in 1922-23). Gay is 18 at the beginning, so she would be born in 1904. If Donna and Virginia were 18-20 when they got married, they would be 26-28 (so still "young"). at the beginning. Peter was 14 when Donna was 8, so he'd be 32-34 at the beginning of the book (same age or a bit older than Roger). Hugh was 35 at the beginning. I guess Joscelyn was a bit younger- most of LMM's heroines are at least two years younger than their love interest. I'd say she might have been 20-23 when she got married, so she'd be around 30-33 at the beginning of the book. I would say Brian is about six years old - he doesn't seem to attend school yet, but is big enough to be sent to the harbour. Margaret Penhallow was about fifty at the beginning of the book.

So sorry that this post was rather long, but it was a great fun to write (even if it took me A LOT of time). Thank you for reading. Please, let me know if you agree. Any feedback will be very welcome!

[philtstone]

16 (nose kisses), Anne/Gilbert!

The unspoken laws and loyalties of bosom friendship notwithstanding, Anne has been inching nearer and nearer to the edge of her patience with every subsequent Post-Date Diana who enters their humble apartment.

"Oh, Anne," she says the first time, admittedly Diana-ish in the rosy, stalwart flush of her cheeks. "I just had the best time. We got spaghetti, and he held my purse, and I think I laughed all night long."

Fred Wright is nowhere near funny enough for Anne to believe this a sustainable laughter, but Diana is happy, and if one isn't expecting a date to go anywhere -- which Anne is not -- the best outcome of the whole thing would be an enjoyable old time. Anne says, "A grand old success, then," while Diana goes, smiling, to the bathroom to get unready, and that is that.

So Anne thinks, anyhow.

"Anne," says Diana after the second date. "Oh, I keep thinking about him. He's got such nice eyes, and such lovely hair --" (It's so very flat and straight, which Anne has never found alluring, but she holds her tongue) "-- and gosh, Anne, all I could think of was how desperately I wanted to kiss his nose. I felt like a heroine from a romance, Anne, I really did!"

This is less like the Di Anne knows, but she allows that years of being exposed to Anne might have predicted such behaviour -- his nose, really! No one has so alluring a nose that you'd want to kiss it, let alone Fred's flat and snub one -- Diana's is so much more aristocratic -- but Anne manages to smile and nod. She has twelve readings due tomorrow, so she decides -- whilst on a semi-regular video call with recent chum Gil Blythe -- that she'll deal with it later.

"Diana's sensible," Anne tells him, stoutly, while she braids her hair for bed and he squints at his Anatomy 412 flashcards by the sink with a toothbrush in his mouth. "Not like I am, Gil -- she'll grow out of this Fred thing. I mean, she has dreams, for God's sake, and Fred is so -- so -- Fred."

"Fred's a nice enough guy," Gilbert says, muffled around his toothbrush. He spits. "Accounting's got steady income. And, you know, Diana's mom's got to like him -- not like the last few guys."

It's true, of course, that Fred Wright goes to the same Korean Church the Barrys have patronized for years, but Anne sees this as immaterial to Diana's dreams of becoming a self-made creative marketing director in the modern age of womankind.

"We've got exams in a week," Anne says with confidence. "I'm sure she'll be back to herself in no time."

The third date comes and goes, and Diana admits -- after a whole two days of secretive private sighing -- to a make-out session of the most agreeable kind. There was over the clothes action. Anne howls with such violent shock that her prized 2014 MacBook almost flies across the room.

"And it took you two days to tell me?" she shrieks.

Diana is only a very little bit repentant.

Anne becomes convinced. She is losing her closest friend in the world -- to a man.

To Fred Wright. And his perfectly average nose!

Oh, calamity!

"Anne," says Gilbert, for the tenth time, a week after Diana's gone on her fifth date. Well -- they're not really dates anymore. Anne's been informed that her best friend is in a whole relationship with the dreaded Fred. After three days of a stiff upper lip (she had two papers due for women's studies) she has broken down in tears in Gilbert's dorm. Thank God Josie and Moody left an hour ago, because Anne doesn't think she could've borne the humiliation of Losing It in front of them.

Gilbert, somehow, is different.

"Anne," he says once more, gently. She can feel his hands rubbing carefully against her back, and it is helping, really. She hiccups a few times.

"I'm just -- we had these dreams together, Gil. What if she goes off and gets married before me and never becomes duchess of digital marketing, and I'm left alone and friendless and -- and -- alone -- and, oh, I haven't even started my third term paper. Alone!"

At this, Gilbert sighs fully and pulls her into a hug. Anne hiccups weepily for a while longer against his chest, which is surprisingly solid. She supposes she ought to have expected this -- just as she ought to have expected Diana's romantic escapades -- because, as evidenced by the old football jersey he's currently wearing, Gilbert the pre-med student was until very recently something of an athlete. Anne tripped over her own feet the last time she tried running, and so has long since given up the stuff. This noted contrast is suddenly and inconveniently allowing a queer feeling to enter her stomach.

"Anne," Gilbert says a third time, somewhere around the vicinity of her forehead. "You're not alone. You goose. As if Diana would ever forget about you."

"But things might change," Anne says.

It comes out in a far smaller voice than she intends it to. And then, as if inspired, she looks up.

She doesn't mean to, and perhaps she is compelled by some greater force; in that moment, she comes the closest she ever has to Gilbert's own nose. It is far nicer than Fred Wright's, Anne's mind manages to notice. Long and straight and brown, and -- well, there is a freckle or two there, from the sun, but they're much sweeter than Anne's own and something about their proximity is making her stomach flip. His arm is warm against her side.

She could kiss his nose, pops the thought into her head, so very unwanted.

"Not all change is a bad thing, Anne," Gilbert says, his low voice scattering that awful intrusion to the four winds. He is as quiet as she had been, but more steady, somehow. Gilbert is often steady, these days, and steadiness is something Anne has never thought, actively, to crave before, but she has -- well, she has.

Anne takes a deep, querulous breath and pretends her head isn't spinning. Gilbert's expression shifts; she stops staring at his nose. A very small part of her, perceptive in spite of herself, thinks that he is about to take pity on her.

He does.

"C'mon," Gil says, untangling them and helping Anne to her feet with a decidedly chummy arm up. "You've got your paper and I've got this bellringer. I'll put on some tea, we'll focus, and then I can come with you tomorrow to stage a Diana Intervention."

And it won't really be that -- Anne loves Diana too much to want anything but the best and happiest for her -- but she is comforted, all the same.

[squeliy]

Gilbert dying but immediately getting better when he finds out Anne loves him and Anne realizing she loves him but she thinks it’s too late cause he’s dying but he’s not and then they fall in love and get married and live happily ever after