#the WILDEST most personal shit EVER in front of the entire school instead of taking that person aside and having a private conversation with

[spacelesscowboy]

adam groff. is The Most Character ever. he makes such bad choices. people try to give him advice and he goes. all right then. what’s the most extreme and insane decision i can make with what u just told me. i’m obsessed w him fr.

[glbertblyth]

Hey guys! Just posted chapter two, this time it’s Gilbert’s pov!! Really hope you enjoy and please don’t be afraid to leave comments and kudos on Ao3!!

By the time Gilbert Blythe had begun to walk the cobbled pathway that lead up to his home, the sun had begun to creep its way below the horizon. The evening country sky was awash with beautiful hues of reds and oranges. Burnt bright and fiery.

It reminded him of Anne.

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. The girl with constellations on her skin and cosmos in her stormy gray eyes. The girl who kissed him and left his mind to spin on its axis. The girl who hated him.

He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, making a poor attempt at banishing the swirling mess of thoughts in his mind.

Anne despised him. Anne despised him and she’d kissed him.

The same phrase had been endlessly looping through his subconsciousness for the better part of an hour now. For all the years he’d known her - for all the times they’d bickered and bantered and fought - never even in his wildest imaginations had he thought he would feel the weight of her lips against his.

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was something of an absolute mystery to him. And it never ceased to amaze him just how frequently he felt caught off-guard around her.

He never returned Anne’s ill affections. Never hated her. Never wished anything of poor luck upon her life (he knew she’d already been through far too much), but sometimes the words that came out of her mouth felt like a knife being held to his throat. Like- if he made any sudden movements the sharpness of her words would tear into him.

And, god help him, it always thrilled him to no end. To be on the receiving end of her cunning wit and look her in the eye felt much like looming over the edge of a very high cliff. Except, instead of enormous crashing waves or deadly spikes being on the opposing side, it was the ever so intriguing face of one fiery red head.

He absolutely delighted in having the ability to rile her up. To push her buttons. To cause her skin to flush angrily and shoulders to tense and pretty face to squash into a scowl. She probably found herself to be intimidating. And she was to a certain extent... but mostly Gilbert only found the whole thing rather adorable.

To put it plainly: where her rivalry with him was based on hatred, his was based on pure amusement and intrigue. And he was always ready to take whatever punches she threw his way.

Until a few hours before. When oddly enough, he had most certainly not been prepared for her attack. An attack that wasn’t an attack on his character or intelligence, but on his consciousness. On where he thought a line was between them. On everything he thought was capable of taking place.

Because while he didn’t hate Anne, he was never stupid enough to believe that they were friends. He was attracted to her, yes, how couldn’t he be? She was intelligent. Passionate. Beautiful in a way that he could really only describe as being... out of the ordinary. Not in a bad way, but in a way that was quiet. In a way that it was obvious she couldn’t tell exactly how many heads she turned. But she had a fire in her soul that roared against him. A vicious tongue that, at times, could be downright degrading. And a wall towered between the two of them because of it.

So why, after she’d used that exact tongue for something he would have never expected from her, did he have the incredibly disorienting and unexplainable urge to run after her and do it again. Kiss her again. Procure the same tilt-a-whirl feeling in his head that the heat of her lips moving against his had caused.

A feeling that he hadn’t even felt with Win-

He tamped those thoughts off right at the start, giving his head a fierce shake. That was a train of thought better left unridden.

Damn it all, how could one moment in time leave his mind reeling with such a mighty force that he felt like he couldn’t make sense of anything?

“Blythe,” an accented voiced reached out from only a few paces away, and it was in that moment that Gilbert had realized he’d stopped completely. Staring blankly at his front door for the last few minutes, wrapped entirely in his own thoughts. “Blythe you moke, is that you?”

Sebastian Lacroix, Gilbert’s roommate (brother really), stood on the wooden porch of their house. Looking at the boy with a bemused expression and shaking his head slowly.

Gilbert had burrowed himself so far into his own head that he hadn’t seen the rusted old truck sitting in the driveway as he pulled in behind it.

“Hey Bash,” Gilbert returned drily as he forced his feet to move. He climbed the creaky old steps of the porch and skirted around the older man.

Bash followed behind him as he passed through the door and into the cozy atmosphere of the small living room. Gilbert removed his shoulder bag and tossed it onto the fluffy couch as he heaved a sigh.

“I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon. Wanted to see if I should order some pizza for dinner,” said Bash as he clapped a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder.

The boy reached into the back pocket of his jeans and was unsurprised to find that his phone was dead. He held the dark screen up to show Bash just as much.

“You really need to start bringin’ a charger with you if you’re gonna be gone studying long enough to drain the life from your phone,” scolded Bash.

Gilbert merely rolled his eyes, “You got it, Dad.” But as soon as the joke left his mouth, he winced.

The relationship between Gilbert and Sebastian was... complicated... to say the least.

They were family, there was no denying that, but the way they came together as roommates - as brothers - was a rather tedious story.

In the simplest of renderings, it went like this: Sebastian Lacroix had been in Gilbert’s life for as long as he could remember. A constant companion and person to lean on.

At age seven, (eleven years prior) a round faced Gilbert had been told by a young social work intern that his father was dying. It hadn’t been his job, he was merely shadowing the case worker assigned to John Blythe (he’d been sick for a long while with no family able to look after him and his young son) but when it was revealed that John was far sicker than anybody originally thought, no-one had wanted to be the one to tell a child he was going to lose his father. The young man’s heart had hurt for the boy, but had the feeling that he was capable of taking a great deal. That he knew more than what he should have for his young years.

That intern had been Bash.

Sebastian always said that the reason he’d decided to take Gilbert under his wing so fiercely was because of pity. Because he’d felt bad for the scrawny little runt who’d just had the world ripped from beneath his feet. But Gilbert knew the truth. He always had.

Only eighteen at the time, Sebastian had been just as lonely as Gilbert had felt. Young, shunned from his home in Trinidad, and lost in a new country, he’d been in just as vulnerable a position. Just as in need of a friend.

So they’d bonded. Gilbert becoming like a shadow at Sebastian’s side.

When seven years later, Gilbert had held his father’s hand as he passed and he’d been officially dubbed an orphan, Bash was there. Holding his other hand as if to tether him to his spot. To earth. An acknowledgment that, even though Gilbert had lost his last blood relative, he was not without family.

And since that moment, Bash had done everything in his power to prove just as much.

Despite the fact that he was mature well beyond his years even at that age, had Bash not come along with the license to be a foster guardian, Gilbert would have been immediately placed with a random family. He’d had no other extended relatives. Nowhere else to go.

So Sebastian had stepped up. Signed on to be his legal guardian. Acted as an older brother. And then, when Gilbert had finally turned eighteen over the past summer and been freed from the system, as an equal partner.

Though the shades of their skin and chapters of their lives varied, they were brothers. Just as close as blood. If not made closer by the things life had thrown at them.

“So... pizza?” Bash said, interrupting his thoughts once more.

“Uh- yeah. Go ahead.”

Gilbert made his way over to the computer desk along the wall and plugged his phone into the charger. He held it in his hand as he waited for it to light up.

“What’s got you all in your head?” asked Bash as he padded over, feet bare against the carpeted floor. His phone was poised in his hand. Prepared to make the call to the pizza place, “Is it Winnie?”

Gilbert’s lips thinned. The sound of his ex’s name still made him feel tender. Vulnerable.

“Nope.”

“So she’s stopped pestering you then?” Bash raised a thick dark brow, forehead crinkling.

The younger man barked a lifeless laugh, “I wish,” then he lifted his hand and waved his brother off, “it doesn’t matter. Call for the pizza, I’m starved.”

Bash shrugged, “Whatever you say, Blythe.”

Winifred Rose, to put it lightly, had broken Gilbert’s heart.

They’d cut things off only a few weeks ago, right before school had started again. It had been a long time coming, her being in the grade above him and all. She’d graduated the previous year and had planned on going to nursing school in the next town over.

At first she’d been adamant on still wanting to be with Gilbert. Promising that being in college wouldn’t change how she felt about him. And it was fine for a bit. Great even. Couples dated while one was in college all the time. But the closer they’d gotten to the fall semester starting... the further she’d been pulling from him.

And one accidental uncovered text message later, he’d found out exactly why that had been the case. She’d been fooling around with a college sophomore.

Suffice to say he’d cut that shit off right then and there. And she hadn’t stop pestering about a second chance with him since.

At least he no longer had to see her at Dr. Wards office. She’d been interning with the family physician alongside him, but the nursing program for her college courses had been far too demanding to stay on.

The moment his phone blinked to life in his clutch, it began buzzing like crazy. A lump gathered in his throat as his eyes skimmed the various messages and twitter notifications.

Gossip certainly spread fast in Avonlea.

 Moody (7:05 pm): dude

Moody (7:05 pm): did i just hear that you and anne kissed outside of red bird

Moody (7:06 pm): holy SHIT

 Winnie (6:32 pm): you can’t ignore me forever gilbert... will you please just talk to me?

Winnie (7:09 pm): why am i seeing that you kissed another girl all over your twitter mentions

 His jaw clenched. Maybe he’d undersold just how desperate Winifred was being... She’d texted him every day without fail. Making excuse after excuse as to why she’d done what she had. That it didn’t change how she felt about him. That she loved him.

It had only pushed him further away.

After sending a quick and elusive reply to his classmate and friend Moody Spurgeon, he clicked open the thread of messages from Winnie. His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

It had been weeks since he’d replied to her. Was he really going to risk interaction just because of a petty accusation? She certainly didn’t deserve any sort of explanation from him. Especially not about being seen kissing another girl. Not after what he’d found in her phone.

But maybe... a small part of him was still hurt enough to rub the kiss in her face. To subject her to the pain he’d gone through. Did that make him a bad guy? Did he care?

He dropped the phone onto the desk and raked a frustrated hand through his mess of curls. He did care. And he knew it wouldn’t be right.

Sometimes he really did hate having a self-conscience. Sometimes... he wished just once in his life he could be sporadic. Free. Make decisions without mulling over them endlessly beforehand.

Kiss somebody without warrant.

He groaned inwardly as he made his way over to the couch and flopped down face first into the mess of plush pillows. His arm dangled off the side and feet over the armrest.

And there he was. Back to square one. Thinking of Anne and how she’d left him there. Breathless and confused and covering it all up with a smirk. Having to confront the boy behind him that she’d left staring.

It had been ridiculously comical when he’d turned to see who it was she was hiding from. He vaguely recognized him from the hallways of Avonlea High, though he’d only begun seeing him around fairly recently. And by the jealousy that had been written all over his face, he obviously hadn’t been around enough to know that Anne and Gilbert would be the very last two people to ever expect kissing each other.

Whatever that boy had done to cause - no force - Anne to kiss Gilbert... Well, it had to be bad. He hadn’t even minded that she’d used him as a way to avoid the boy. Figured it was definitely for good reason. So when he’d opened his mouth to make a remark, Gilbert had merely gave him a thin lipped smile and a nod of his head. Brushing past him and maybe hitting him with his shoulder a little harder than necessary as he did so.

A ding sounded from where his phone lay on the desk, signifying yet another incoming message. At the very same moment, the sound of Bash’s footsteps could be heard as he crossed through the kitchen door. Gilbert tensed momentarily, and then rushed to sit up.

But it was too late, Bash was leaning over and reading the message on the screen.

His eyebrows shot straight up as he glanced over to where Gilbert peered at him over the back of the couch. The smile on his face was one that surely meant trouble.

Gilbert jumped off of the couch and scrambled back over to the desk, not meeting Bash’s eyes as he snatched it out of his line of sight.

“I’m sorry, did I just read a message saying you were seen kissing somebody?”

Another incoming message chimed, and Gilbert’s hand clenched on the phone. This damned town. You’d think they had nothing better to do than to go spouting every detail that seemed to be out of the ordinary for the entire world to hear.

Gilbert shook his head exasperatedly at Bash’s coy expression, “It’s none of your business.”

“Come on! Eleven years I’ve been in this blasted town and nothin’ interestin’ ever happens. Give your brother a break and tell him the gossip will ya?”

Gilbert released a small bout of surprised laughter, “Not a chance.”

Bash narrowed his eyes at him but turned away instead of questioning him further. As he walked back into the kitchen, he grumbled under his breath.

“Worked my ass off with crazy teenagers every day as a CPS worker just ta’ come back home and deal with another one and he ain’t even got the decency to share the town’s gossip. I swear...”

“I can hear you!” Gilbert called after him, shaking his head in amusion. Bash had a dramatic flare that rivaled that of Anne’s.

Dear god stop thinking about her.

“Wasn’t tryna’ to be quiet!” Bash called back as he crossed through the kitchen and into the dining room, “And you’re answering the door when the pizza arrives. I paid for it!”

Gilbert rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

When he pulled his phone from behind his back to check the messages, the smile dropped from his mouth. One was a reply from Moody, but the other was from Winifred.

 Winnie (7:42 pm): is she your girlfriend?

 Before he could stop himself, he’d typed out an answer and hit send.

 Gilbert (7:46 pm): would it even make a difference

 Her response was immediate. And brought a frown to Gilbert’s face.

 Winnie (7:46 pm): is that what it takes for you to answer then?

Winnie (7:46 pm): wait forget i said that. i’m glad you did.

Winnie (7:46 pm): and in answer to your question... yes. it would for me.

 He hesitated a moment before replying again.

 Gilbert (7:47 pm): and what if i said that she is my girlfriend

 The typing bubble appeared. Stayed there for a few seconds.

 Winnie (7:48 pm): then i would respect that

 Gilbert dropped his phone down onto the desk in surprise. Three weeks. Three weeks had she been messaging him nonstop. And this was all it took for her to take a step back?

He didn’t know if he wanted to release a cry of excitement and relief or if he wanted to curl into a ball in the face of the possibility of things actually being a hundred percent over with the girl he’d dated for a full year.

She cheated on you. It doesn’t matter if it was just a fling or not, it still hurt.

His phone dinged again.

 Winnie (7:51 pm): so?

Winnie (7:52 pm): is she your girlfriend or not gilbert. stop messing with me

 He hastily typed out his reply. But his eyes widened as his thumb hovered over the send button.

Oh, Anne would absolutely murder him. An actual verbal massacre would take place in front of god and everybody.

But... she’d also been the one to kiss him. She’d been the one to need an escape from another boy. This couldn’t be that big of a step up right? Maybe... maybe they could use each other. Team up to get the respective unwanted attention off of their backs.

Besides... Green Gables wasn’t too far from his house. Just a mile or so. He could always stop by in the morning before school, explain the situation, and then take the beating while fewer witnesses were around.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t hold his own against her anyway. And what had he said about wanting to be more spontaneous?

With the ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, his thumb made the final movement to hit send.

 Gilbert (7:52 pm): yes. she’s my girlfriend

+ + +

“Why, Gilbert Blythe! It’s been a long time. What brings you here so early in the morning?”

When the elder woman had opened the front door of her house to find Gilbert standing there, arms nervously crossed behind his back, the surprised smile that had broken across her face was radiant.

“Hello Miss Cuthbert,” Gilbert greeted politely. His hands were ringing themselves, fidgeting where he’d hidden them from her sight, “Sorry to intrude-“

“Oh nonsense, young man. It’s always a pleasure to see an old friendly face,” Marilla interrupted him, “Please. Come in. I have a fresh batch of plum puffs I made just last night.”

He made to interject- to say he only needed to be there a few moments so that he may speak with her daughter- but the older woman was far stronger than she looked. And she’d yanked him in and shut the door behind him before he knew it.

He ran a hand through his mess of curls awkwardly and shifted his weight from one foot the other.

“Miss Cuthbert,” he began as he watched her flit about the tiny area. She’d grabbed a plate from the kitchen and a pan of pastries from a bar just inside the dining room, her long shawl unraveling from around her shoulders in her haste, “I came here so that I might possibly speak with Anne before we head to school?”

Marilla paused in her escapade, glancing over at where Gilbert stood in the doorway, “Yes of course. I believe she’s still in her bedroom getting ready,” she pointed toward a hallway that was just through the dining room entryway and across the living room, “the very last door.”

Gilbert nodded politely, already beginning to move in the direction she’d pointed, “Thank you Miss Cuthbert. This should only take a moment. I’ll grab one of your plum puffs on my way out if that’s alright.”

“Yes yes, of course. And for heaven’s sake child. You’ve known Matthew and I nearly your entire life. Call me Marilla.”

He flashed her a charming smile just as he was about to disappear into the hallway leading to Anne’s bedroom, “Marilla,” he echoed.

When he reached Anne’s door, he hesitated. He could hear the faint sound of music playing from a phone speaker and her quiet voice happily humming along. And from the looks of how the shadow he could see through the crack in the door was swaying around, she was dancing.

A quiet smile graced his lips before he lightly rapped his knuckles against the worn wood.

The humming stopped and the music paused. When he heard her moving toward the door, he took a slight step backward, “I’m almost ready Marilla. I’ll be out for breakfast in just a-“

The moment the door was open and her gray eyes met his, she stopped abruptly. Mouth snapping shut and face turning the same fiery red as the hair on top of her head.

Her eyes promised his death.

Gilbert grinned at her, “What’s up, Carrots?”

The next thing he knew, her hand was on his arm and he was being jerked into her bedroom.

He found himself intrigued as he glanced around. It was a cute little area with a twin bed in the middle, a vanity along the side wall, and several pieces of art framed and hung all around. No doubt drawn by her friend Cole.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she seethed, pulling his roaming gaze away from the small space.

“You Cuthbert ladies sure have a thing for yanking people into rooms,” he replied cheekily, ignoring the acidic tone in the red-heads voice.

He studied her a moment. Her hands balled into fists at her sides and an angry flush coloring clear down into the neck of her pretty floral patterned dress. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, framing her freckled face.

She was as beautiful as always. As fierce as ever.

And her blue eyes blazed with the same hatred for him that he always knew he could find there.

In the face of it, he couldn’t help when his smile widened crookedly.

She took a deep breath. As if trying to calm herself, “Listen if you came here about what happened yesterday, I-“

“It’s not about that,” he cut her off, “Okay- well yeah. It is. But I highly doubt I’ll be saying anything you expect.”

A repulsed expression marred her pretty features, “I hope you don’t suddenly think I’m going to do it again.”

A small burst of laughter escaped from him, “Trust me. Neither of us want that.”

Liar liar, he thought. Gilbert hadn’t been able to get the feel of her soft lips out of his head from the moment it happened. But he didn’t even want to admit that to himself let alone to her.

Her lips thinned. “What do you want?” she asked warily.

He leaned back casually against her closed bedroom door and stuffed his hands into his pockets, “Who was that boy you were hiding from yesterday?”

Her eyes narrowed, “Diana will be here in twenty minutes to pick me up and Marilla will have my head if I don’t eat breakfast with her and Matthew before I leave so if all you came here to do was interrogate me about-“

“Carrots relax.”

“Stop calling me that!” she snapped shrilly.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and held them up in defense. “Alright alright, I’m sorry,” he said, “There’s a point to me asking this. I promise.”

Anne released a huff. Crossed her arms and jutted her hip out to the side.

“Forgive me if I don’t take any of your promises to heart,” she retorted indignantly.

“Fair enough,” he replied, “But humor me. Please.”

At the last word, he’d looked up at her from his relaxed position on the door through his dark eyelashes. It was a move he knew worked on nearly every female in Avonlea. Except for Anne. The first time he’d tried it on her back when they’d met, he’d been awarded with a very hard textbook to the face. It was the first time it hadn’t worked. Hadn’t charmed the girl into a fit of embarrassed giggles or brought a pink flush to her cheeks.

He did it now adays just to see Anne’s scowl deepen. Apparently he’d grown a liking to flirting with death.

She rolled her eyes at him. Making a small noise of disgust that allowed for an amused smile to play on Gilbert’s lips.

“Fine. Whatever,” she started, “The guy was Royal Gardner. He’s Diana’s cousin. You probably noticed he just started at Avonlea High? He’s in the same grade as us and an absolute pain in my ass.”

Gilbert cocked an eyebrow, “I thought I was the only pain in your ass.”

“Don’t be vain. A lot of boys are pains in my ass.”

His lips twitched. “Is that so?” he asked before he could stop himself.

The punch she threw at his arm was very well deserved.

“You have a death wish Gilbert Blythe. I swear you do.”

Gilbert snorted. It was a bit of an understatement, if you asked him. He sort of felt like he’d traipsed right into a lion’s den.

He cleared his throat, “So if so many boys are already a pain in your ass... Why was this one a cause for you to kiss me?”

Anne looked down shyly. And if Gilbert hadn’t known any better, he might have said that the slight pink that colored her cheeks was from embarrassment and not anger.

It was gone in a flash though. She straightened. Head held high and stormy eyes meeting his in defiance.

“He’d asked me out the day before. Wouldn’t take no for an answer,” she glanced away from him, “I uh, had to tell him I was seeing somebody in order to get him to leave me alone. I wasn’t expecting to see him at Red Bird. And you were there... so I panicked. Seized the opportunity that had revealed itself.”

Gilbert nodded thoughtfully, fighting to hide the smirk that threatened his lips. So, this Royal guy thought he might be dating Anne? The situation was far more perfect than he’d originally thought.

 “I was a pawn,” he replied casually.

Anne rolled her eyes at him. Probably for the millionth time in the span of the five minutes they’d been talking.

“You-“

He pushed on, “Do you remember Winnie?”

Her eyebrows scrunched together, “Your ex-girlfriend? What about her.”

Gilbert paused a moment, steeling himself. When the girl across from him placed a hand on her hip and raised an annoyed eyebrow, he released a breath.

“She maybe, sort of, thinks that we’re dating too. As well. Like- uh. Yeah.”

Anne swore quietly and looked down at her hands where they were fisted in the loose skirt of her dress.

“Why would she possibly think that?”

“Anne. You kissed me. In public. You know how this town is... I’m sure everybody thinks we’re together now.”

She harrumphed at that, and Gilbert couldn’t help but find it a little bit adorable.

Her eyes met his again, “It’s 2019, a kiss does not insinuate dating.”

Gilbert took a single step closer to her and was relieved to find that she didn’t back up. “Did you miss the part where we live in a small town in rural Maine or...”

“That doesn’t mean-“

“What if we let them think it.”

A surprised laugh burst from Anne as soon as the words had left his mouth. But when she looked at him again and saw that he hadn’t been joking, the smile dropped from her face.

“Wait you’re being serious?” she asked.

Gilbert swallowed. Nodded.

She began to shake her head furiously, “No way. No fucking way. I don’t even like you! You don’t like me!”

She stepped away from him and started to frantically tidy up the space around her as if to busy herself. She scrambled to her bed and grabbed the blankets there to fold across the mattress. She fluffed her pillow unnecessarily, causing Gilbert’s lip to twitch in amusement as she watched.

Anne’s voice was an octave higher than normal as she continued to rant and busy herself with the sheets of her bed.

Gilbert stepped forward, not even trying to hide the amusement that was sure to be written all across his face.

“Anne,” he said, “Anne calm down a second and listen to me, will you?”

She spun on her heal to face him, eyes bright with a mixture of panic and anger. Hands clutching viciously to the throw blanket in her grasp.  

“Do not tell me to calm down Gilbert Blythe,” she snapped at him. There it was, the knife to his throat, “You come here to- to suggest what? That we suddenly start dating? I can’t even- We never- I can barely stand to be around you, let alone-“

It was a good thing the knife had never intimidated him before. And it certainly wasn’t now.

“We wouldn’t really be dating, Anne.” He interrupted her with a laugh.

She blinked, “What the hell are you talking about?”

He walked up to her slowly. Grabbed the blanket that dangled from her hands and then set it on her bed. Their bodies were inches apart and it was as if he could feel her there. Feel the heat radiating off of her.

He met her harsh gaze, “What if we just made everybody think we were dating. What if we made Royal think we were dating.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and straightened her stance. But she didn’t back away. Didn’t take a step back like he would have expected her to.

“What’s in it for you?” she asked, voice laced with poison and skepticism.

He shrugged, “I’ve needed Winifred to get off my back for a while. Call it an even exchange.”

“Nobody will believe it. We’ve been at each other’s throats since we met.”

On the contrary, she’d been at his throat. He didn’t have a doubt in his mind that they’d be perfect friends if only she’d let him in instead of wielding her words against him like a mighty sword.

He leaned in a fraction, relishing in the way he heard her breath catch in her throat, “They’ll believe what we make them believe.”

She bit her lip, eyes expressing clear contemplation in the swirling grays and blues of her irises. But then she stiffened, and the shutters slammed shut against him. She moved forward, pushing past and around. Causing him to stumble backward slightly despite her small frame.

He turned to find her paused in front of the doorway with her back to him, fists clenched at her sides and back stiff straight.

“No.” Her voice was flat.

He took a step toward her, “Anne-“

“I said no. It’s a stupid idea,” she placed her hand on the doorknob and twisted. Pulled it open and then stepped aside to make way for him to pass through. She looked over at the place where he stood, a solid resolve in her eyes. “I think you should leave. Diana will be here any minute and now I have to rush my breakfast.”

Gilbert deflated. He was disappointed, but he wouldn’t force her to do something she didn’t want to. Still, he’d already told Winnie... Been so determined he’d be able to convince Anne to take part in his plan.

As he walked through her doorway and past her, he paused a moment. Leaned down slightly so that their faces were closer together.

“Just a few months. We get Royal and Winnie off our backs. And then we never have to deal with each other outside of class again,” he said quietly. He could see his breath move the auburn locks against her face. His eyes flit to lock with hers, “Think about it.”

When her lips thinned and she refused to respond, Gilbert gave a curt nod. Then walked down the hallway, out into the living room and back into the kitchen.

He quickly brandished a wide smile and farewell to Marilla as he grabbed one of her pastries and left through the door. All the while knowing Anne watched through the window as he climbed into his car and backed out of the Cuthbert’s long driveway.

The entire way to Avonlea High, a smile curved at his lips.

[nadjaofstatenisland]

Keeping Up With the Coopers

Wrote something about Alice showing up at the SoDale event last night and accidentally erased it because I’m an idiot, so lets try this again. (apologizing in advanced because I’m sure someone else has used this title before.)

Oh, Alice. As I ask of my favorite character every week what is your game? 

Let me start by stating the obvious: Alice is insecure. “Did you tell Dad everything when you started dating?” “I sure did, and he used it against me.” Betty and Alice exchange this in 1x10 when Betty is unsure of trusting Jughead with dark!Betty. And by this point we already saw Hal use Alice’s insecurities against her in 1x08 when she kicks him out. “Oh, no Alice. What will everyone think?” I’ve talked to a few people who viewed this exchange as Hal not wanting the town to find out they don’t have a perfect family, but I disagree. Hal says this in such a condescending tone, I can only read this as him using her insecurities against her. Hal grew up in the Northside, founding family of Riverdale, and probably had a very similar childhood to the one they gave Betty and Polly. The Coopers already have an established imagine and Hal could care less of it, it’s been there his whole life and little can tarnish it now. It’s Southside Alice, the girl from the wrong side of the track with the bad reputation. She is the one who cares about her family’s reputation. Possibly because she finally has a “good” reputation to uphold, unlike her past. 

Which brings me to 2x05. Betty gets sent this article of her mom being arrested as a teen (conveniently right after the Lodge’s discuss what a pain her articles have been. hmm.) and posts it under the Black Hood’s direction. Now, this is a small town. All the older crowd already knows Alice from her past and knows she’s formerly from the Southside, yet the only person who ever brings this up is FP. Even then, FP brings this up in private, although it would have been so easy to toss into that dinner conversation in front of Betty and Jughead in 1x11. Do people ignore this as a polite courtesy? Strange since all Alice ever seems to do it shit stir.

So this article pops up. Alice claims all public records of it are gone, but what’s sent to Betty is a picture of the paper. An original copy implies that someone’s been saving this paper for 25 years just to eventually hold something over Alice’s head. And in retrospect… who makes a big deal about this? We see groups of kids snickering about it at Pops. Pop’s himself tells Alice he’s not judging her. Hiram kind of nods along with it when Hal says Alice is shook. Is it such a big deal…?

Yes, because if there is anyone Alice has been trying to erase her past from, it’s her own children. How was there not a scene of Betty actually confronting Alice about this? (and i know her and Jug where pressed for time, but they hardly touch on this. please Jug, ask an older Serpent what they know about Alice, for my sake.) The scene we get is so short and basically Betty just saying she did this for justice. “Shit talk the Southside and I’ll expose your sketchy past.” But what about, “Mom, you were a Serpent and have a record, yet instead of telling me and my boyfriend about this as maybe a cautionary tale, you just post articles about how the place you come from is ruining Riverdale?” 

And what about the older Serpents? Do they just roll their eyes and go, “Oh, silly Alice, running her mouth as always,” and shake it off? Does Tall Boy know Alice? And why is it this group of misfit Serpent teens who want to attack the Register? (btw Jug, great job not telling anyone about their stupid plan. I know you have a complicated relationship with Alice, but leaving a pipebomb in some’s business is a serious deal. and do they ever even say they’re not going to do it? uhhh…)

So this brings us to the SoDale Open House. Hal tells Hiram they decided together that Alice shouldn’t come after the article. “Alice, you’ve really been stirring the pot lately. Lets put crazy on the backburner and you sit this one out?” “Oh sure.” At which point, Alice ran out to Greendale Mall and brought that bomb ass outfit that I couldn’t pull off in my wildest fantasy. (fyi my wildest fantasy may or may not include Madchen in that outfit.) And a snake necklace. And she shows up in total Cheryl Blossom fashion and makes a scene, yanks a drink out of her husband’s hand… and then what? Takes three steps back and asks him what she’s missed so far? She’s standing next to him minutes later when Hiram makes his speech.

Who was this stand against? Hal? This entire fandom gives Hal so much shit and I hear so many people calling him abusive. To who? Does Alice strike anyone as the type who takes shit from anyone? Listen to Hal when he tells her not to do something? The only time we see him remotely talk back to Alice is the scene I mentioned in 1x08, which of course still results in him getting kicked out. Hal and Alice were high school sweethearts (more on that). He knows her past and still married her in spite of it. That article hurt her, not him. So even if he told her to stay home, he must have known there was little chance of it happening, so please, someone tell me why they think Hal is such a villain. I’d love to have a legit discussion on this, not just, “He’s awful, end of story.”

(and before we get into the Polly debate, I’ll say this. I’m pro-choice. as far as we know, Hal offered to pay for Polly to get an abortion, which is the same thing he did to Alice back when they were in high school. he didn’t force either of them to do this since, obviously, neither got an abortion. the most important thing is what Polly said. “He didn’t even ask me what I want.” which yes, i agree with. it’s 100% Polly’s choice, but since she didn’t get an abortion, she wasn’t forced into one. what she was forced into was going to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. but please, I’m not here to get into a pro-choice/pro-life debate if that’s where anyone’s going, thanks.)

So this is a stand against the town? “I am Alice, here me slither.” Anyone Alice’s age already knows has a shady past. And they knew you were Southside, but did people know you were a Serpent? If anything, this article is just a reminder of that time she got arrested and that snake necklace is maybe suppsed to be a reveal. But we don’t even know for sure because there is no follow up on this scene. Alice, no one in this town cares who you were 25 years ago. You care who you were 25 years ago. Are you trying to say you’re not embarrassed anymore? Are you done wearing pastels? (a shame, because they really suit you.) Who forced you into a J Crew catalog? Everyone in town knows you dress your damn husband. 

Please writers, let us not just ignore this. Alice didn’t do all this just for it not to be mentioned again. Don’t let me down. Is Alice now going to be pro Southside? Stop trying to pin them as the bad guys? I highly doubt this, but why the snake necklace then?

So while I’m coming off the high of going for a run and drinking three cups of coffee, let me get into a topic I see come up every so often but am normally too lazy to comment on. Alice and Hal’s relationship.

“They’re so different.” “Why are they still married?” “How did they ever get together in the first place?”

Look, my husband and I are polar opposites. My sister and her husband too. My parents were, my grandparents… Who marries someone just like them? My husband is loud, outgoing, hotheaded, never afraid to talk up or speak his mind. I’m quite, sarcastic, levelheaded, and will eat the wrong meal if a waitress got my order wrong because I hate confrontation. We balance each other, as couples should. (i’m in no way saying you can’t be with someone with a similar personality, I just often see it the other way around.) 

Alice and FP being too similar is the exact reason I can never see them working out. 

So okay, I love getting into the inner workings of Alice and Hal’s relationship, as many know. I find it fascinating. Alice was this bad girl in high school. Southside, most likely a Serpent, arrested at least once. Yet she dated this preppy Northside boy. They’re referred to as high school sweethearts and Alice got pregnant (we can assume) a bit before senior year started. To me that implies they dated for a chunk of high school, as I doubt they’d be popular enough to win something like homecoming court if they just got together. 

So yes, they must have been popular if they could win homecoming court. Who were they up against? Hermione and Fred? Hermione and Hal’s apparent buddy Hiram? (oh god, give me a double date of Hermione, Hiram, Alice, and Hal at Pops, please please please.) And that’s just it. I can totally see the school rooting for this mismatched couple to stay together. I can see them gaining their popularity off of each other. 

Ah, but at some point in high school Alice was arrested (assuming before senior year since she spent half of that at the sisters). And who else but the Riverdale Register posts her mugshot. We see a lot of family businesses in Riverdale, so it won’t surprise me that the same goes for the Register. Probably started by Hal’s grandmother to “expose the truth of Riverdale and those maple syrup stealing Blossom’s” after her husband was murdered. So Hal’s parents published that article on Alice. Was she already dating their son at that time and this was their way of embarrassing her to break them up? Or was Hal drawn to her after this, discovering his kink for bad girls?

Okay, this is an unedited mess I need to cut short to go to work. 

[hollyholstein]

Kill Yourself: The Death of a  Wallflower

Desire. It can motivate us to achieve our wildest dreams, and it can cripple us with the fear of failure to attain those dreams. We all have desires. How we go about achieving them is what separates the truly great from the masses. 

My whole life I’ve struggled with great aspirations and also that crippling fear that my entire world would crumble should I fall short of my goals. I was still in college at Arizona State University when I seeded my secret desire to be an actress. But I was afraid to tell even my closest friends because I would be humiliated if I proclaimed this as my future and didn’t to lived up to their and my expectations. So I finished school with a degree in French and no desire to use it toward any sort of career. After graduation, I packed up my car and moved to Orange County to live with my father “just until I made it big.” I took a catering gig in Los Angeles 6o miles (or 1-2.5 hours by freeway) away. I researched acting schools and agents and headshot photographers. I hunkered down for what my mind knew to be a long career path, but for what my heart wasn’t quite ready to accept.

And once the headshots were submitted and the classes were underway I waited. 

And there was silence.

I languished in beginning and intermediate acting classes for three years before finally fighting my way to the master class. My coaches notes were always that I  was too quiet. Don’t give up in a scene. Don’t shy away from a character. I made it through class largely unnoticed. But I made it. The agents weren’t biting, so I thought I’d try casting workshops to sharpen my auditioning skills. After all, I had scene study down by now. I was ready, right?

Wrong.

My first casting workshop was for a television casting associate. They assist the assistants to the casting director. I had no idea what this meant at the time, though, so to me this was my only in. I was so nervous when it came my turn to read that my neck seized up as stiff as a board and I could hardly move. My words were like whispers choking out of my tense lips. I couldn’t remember the dialogue I had rehearsed for days beforehand. It was utter failure. The associate was bored and nearly done with her chicken wrap, and thanked me without so much as a second glance. She probably felt as awkward for me as I felt for myself. I walked out the door, got in my car, and proceeded to rerun the scene the way I had rehearsed it over and over for the entire two hour drive back to Orange County. 

Room after room. Audition after audition. I tripped and fumbled and sweated profusely through every agent and casting director meeting I had. I got better. Then I got worse. And I was in agony the entire time. Why could I deliver pages of dialogue alone in my home and yet every time I got in front of someone with any ability to help me succeed I crashed and burned?

Desire.

I wanted it so bad. And yet I wasn’t hungry enough. I had a comfortable roof over my head. I had dinner waiting every night. Part of me was satisfied being that wallflower that watched the action from the sidelines and still get a participation trophy at the end of the game. Because I tried, didn’t I? I did those things that the movie gods recommend I do to succeed. If I wasn’t good enough, then maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

No.

That’s fear talking. It’s telling me I tried but it's behind the wheel the whole time, guiding me straight into the thing I fear most.

Failure. 

I was afraid people wouldn’t like me. They would see that I was a fraud. They would see through the character I created to the timid girl inside. That girl was so fragile and I was protecting her. But why? 

I would have to kill that girl. Kill the girl and I’d have nothing left to lose. And it took years. She had been inside me so long that I didn’t know anything else. I moved to LA. I had a seasonal job as a stand-in on a television show. I wasn’t sure I could pay the bills once the show ended, but I knew that driving 120 miles a day wasn’t going to cut it. 

I looked in the mirror and told myself that I was powerful. That I could do anything I put my mind to. That people aspired to be me. I lied to myself. Over and over. I lied to myself until I began to feel it was true. 

I networked my ass off. The wallflower clung for dear life here. She told me I didn’t know what to say without sounding like a weirdo. She told me my approach would look unnatural and people would see right through me. So I choked that girl out. I gave myself goals. Get the business cards of five different people in whatever crowd I was in. Sometimes the goals were silly. Talk to at least one bald person, one woman, and one Asian person. It made no sense, but it was something tangible that I could accomplish. Ask your boss for a recommendation. Talk to the powers that be at work. I had nothing left to lose.

I put myself through improv classes. Another fear. I knew that I would mess up. You have to think quickly in improv. You are guaranteed to mess up at some point. It taught me that failure isn’t the end of the world. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and continue the game. 

I came out of the closet to my family. To my friends. To anyone who would listen. I am queer and I never thought I had to tell people until not telling them felt like keeping part of myself a secret. I present as more feminine, so it wasn’t as obvious to everyone else as it was to me. But once I stopped being afraid of what people were going to think of my sexuality I extinguished the last dying breath of that wallflower that I had been holding on to. 

Now I was an entirely new person.

The auditions were nothing for me now. They didn’t matter in the scheme of things. Because I was a valuable commodity. I bring more to the table than agents, managers, casting directors bring me. The more I worked in the industry the more I learned that 90% of the time it didn’t even matter what I said in the audition. It was over when I walked in the room. Either I looked the part or I didn’t. Or they already had someone else in mind. Or the producer was going to cast his girlfriend anyway. Or a hundred other reasons that had nothing to do with me. So it didn’t matter. 

Now I’m writing. I get feedback every day. Some of it is good. Some people think my work is shit. Honestly, sometimes it is shit. But it doesn’t matter. I rewrite. Or I trust my own judgment. I work on myself and my work speaks for itself instead of worrying about what others think and what others can do for me. 

I no longer give my power over to others because they may be more recognized or in a position to change my career or my life. 

The girl that did that is dead. I buried her in the garden, may she rest in peace. Not once have I ever missed her. I’m too busy moving forward and taking over the world.