#(at least most of the daphne's i grew up with were and that's all that matters to me lol)

[kelstey]

invisible string

mattheo riddle x reader

warnings : smut

REQUESTED

italics are flashbacks, each cut off is a different flashback/memory

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

"lights out everyone!" professor dumbledore yelled out. the silent movements of different rooms filled the hallway as everyone turned their lights off, no one was away to sleep - just yet, at least.

the first years had been allowed a trip to paris to celebrate the accomplishments of completing their first year at hogwarts.

a couple minutes passed by, the lock of the teachers' rooms could be heard, soon followed by a flick of the light switch. as if mattheo, theo, lorenzo, draco, and blaise's lives depended on it, they held their breaths as they wandered down the corridor, making their way to the room you were sharing with pansy and daphne.

the teeny, tiniest of knocks echoed through your room, signifying their arrival. the three of you giggled, having the boys sneak over into your room felt super grown up and who wouldn't want their crushes in their room?

you held in a breath as the door silently unlocked, opening the door to reveal the group of boys. "sh!" blaise smacked the back of draco's head as the floorboard underneath him creaked.

the five boys creeped into your shared room, trying their hardest to make as little noise as possible to avoid being screamed at by a professor for not only sneaking out - but sneaking into a room of girls.

you shut and locked the door, going over to your cramped single bed. it wasn't the most comfiest thing on earth but it would do for the meantime.

"hi," mattheo walked over, cramming himself into the bed with you.

"hi," you felt a blush creep up onto your cheeks. thankfully the room was only lit with the tiny glow of daphne and draco's wands.

"i can't wait to go to the eiffel tower tomorrow," draco gushed. he was sat on the floor against the wall, facing all three beds.

"who?" theo asked.

"me-"

"asked."

the seven of you laughed silently, draco buffed and puffed, unimpressed at the 'lame' joke.

"that's not funny."

"it's quite funny," pansy giggled, covering her mouth.

"whatever," draco crossed his arms like an angry toddler.

the room filled with mixed conversations, different duos and trios speaking amongst each other, occasionally joining in with each others conversations.

you leaned back against mattheo's chest, your eyelids growing heavy, fighting off each urge to fall asleep as you wanted to continue speaking with the rest.

he wrapped his arms around your torso, allowing your bead to fall back onto his shoulder. mattheo grew slightly confused when you stopped replying, looking down at you only to realise you were asleep.

he pulled the covers up over both of your bodies, his arms tightening around you secretly hiding from the others. mattheo continued to speak, careful not to be too loud in fear of waking you up.

he was also sure to hush anyone whenever they raised their voice, claiming it was just so no one would get in trouble, but really he didn't want them to wake you up, either.

not even thirty minutes after the boys snuck in did everyone fall asleep. numerous snores falling from mouths, theo's obnoxious one waking you up.

you tried to move but quickly realised the reason you were so restricted was due to mattheo's arms around you. a smile formed on your lips, he was the first ever boy you'd fallen asleep with.

-

"riddle! y/l/n! get back here right now!" snapes voice rang throughout numerous corridors. mattheo grabbed onto your hand tightly, your feet running at a pace that you didn't even realise you could go at.

"we're so fucked," you giggled, continuing to sprint through the corridors, weaving your way past other students, your veins pumped with adrenaline, giving you somewhat of a high.

"that's part of the fun," mattheo turned his face to look at you.

you looked angelic. your hair was being flown back as you ran, the brightest of smiles plastered on your face. mattheo felt flowers blossoming in his stomach, the petals tickling the inner lining.

you were always beautiful to him, but at that moment? it was like he discovered a new part of you. all these years he had known you, and only just then did he truly think he found you. he saw you. and he loved each singular part.

the two of you made a sharp turn, finding yourselves in a vacant corridor. your breathing was sharp, your lungs desperate for as much air as you could possibly receive.

you leaned back against the wall, the smile on your face reforming when you looked up to see mattheo holding back a smirk. your lungs burned, your legs moments away from giving in.

"you're such a little shit," you laughed. you felt a stitch on your side, your hand going up to your abdomen to press on it. the adrenaline was still coursing through your veins.

"stitch?" he took a few steps closer to you.

"hurts like a bitch," you panted. mattheo removed your hands from the area, massaging his hand to try relieve the pain.

"always works when i get one during quidditch," mattheo looked down at you.

he leaned closer, his forehead pressed tightly against yours. the tips of your noses brushed against each other. his warm eyes dilated as they gazed around your face, be opened his mouth to speak but a voice cut him off.

"you two!" the rage of snapes voice, once again, echoed down the hall.

"shit," and the two of you were off, once again.

-

"trust me this stuff will get you baked," the crackle of the lighter lit up the twisted end of the joint. "neville said it's some proper muggle stuff. some sort of cake strain."

"jesus," you spluttered, the smoke going straight to the back of your throat.

"yeah?" mattheo smirked, his tongue poking through the inner of his cheek.

you took a couple more inhales, the weed taking its affect in just a few moments. you passed mattheo over the joint.

"hurry, people are gonna wonder where we've went."

"calm it," mattheo chuckled. he leaned back in the chair, his legs spreading apart and moving his hips up to adjust his position.

"i am calm," you felt your eyelids begin to droop. the truo of you took some more hits, finishing the joint as soon as possible in order to return to the party happening inside.

mattheo took a few more drags, the icy breeze of the wind brushed over you, a chill running down your spine. the hairs on your arms stood up, your hands crossing over to salvage any body warmth you had left from being out on the balcony.

"here," he stubbed out the joint. he took his blazer off, bringing it over your shoulders.

"thank you," you smiled up at him. his eyes twinkled as the light of the moon shone down on him, he was truly gorgeous. "come on now, birthday boy."

the both of you returned back to the party and noticed everyone was already drunk or on the verge of it. you wandered over to a table where pansy, daphne, theo, and lorenzo were seated at.

mattheo followed you closely behind, a dreaded feeling of doom lingering over his head as his paranoia began to settle in. he sat down at the table leaving no space for you.

"you're really gonna make me stand?" you teased, getting between mattheo and pansy.

"mhm," a singular arm wrapped around the back of your legs, his hand resting on your outer thigh, his face nuzzled into your waist, dangerously close to the hem of your already risqué dress.

"it's okay," you muttered, running a hand through his curly brown locks, fingers trailing through his scalp which brought him ease, and he could've fallen asleep then and there. he looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration as he took in your features.

he truly believed you were moulded by the hands of a true goddess.

mattheo spread his thighs apart, pulling you down by your waist to sit perfectly on his groin. "you look beautiful," his lips murmured against the ticklish skin of your neck, the sensation sending a tingle down your back.

"you don't look too bad yourself," you blushed. the others were too far deep in the conversation to notice the two lovebirds - or maybe they were doing it on purpose.

all light sources turned off, the party falling silent with confusion. shortly after, a light illuminated the room. the source coming from a cake being held by tom as be walked into the room, his legs taking strong, confident strides as he made his way over to the table with you and mattheo.

everyone soon gathered, irrupting into the infamous "happy birthday" song you quickly moved off of mattheo's lap before tom got too close, not wanting to raise any suspicions for anyone who didn't already see the two of you already getting a little too handsy.

tom placed the cake atop of the table, clapping once the song ended. mattheo's smile was wide and as bright as ever, his teeth pearly white as the candle light reflected off of them.

mattheo stalled for a second before closing his eyes, a swift blow and the candles were out. he had made his birthday wish.

everyone began to clap, you included. you cheered on, your smile soon faltering when mattheo's girlfriend made her way between you and mattheo, pushing her lips roughly against his.

you could feel your heart drop, your ears muting out the cheers and banter of the guests as they celebrated. your heart broke into a million pieces, his hands holding her close before he moved her onto his lap.

you had just forgotten that the two of you were just friends.

the lights came back on, everyone returning to their conversations, the music continuing to fill the room yet again. "are you okay?" pansy stood up, whispering quietly in your ear.

"i think i need some air," you blinked away the tears, trying to hold back what felt like a waterfall as your waterline filled with a thin lining of tears.

pansy wrapped one of her arms around your back, her head leaning against your shoulder as the two of you made your way out the party. you could feel your lungs gasping for air, a cry escaping your lips as the two of you entered the bathroom.

"it's okay, baby," pansy comforted you. your body just about collapsed onto the floor, though your jagged, distressed breaths for air seemed to be collapsing your lungs as well. you brought your legs up to your chin, allowing the tears to run free. "just breathe."

your mind was fogged, a million thoughts racing non stop as you tried to contain yourself. your eyes were glossy, bloodshot red, looking up at pansy as she rubbed your arm. "i think i love him."

-

the abrasive smoke found it's way to the back of your throat, the paper of the joint crinkling as loud as ever in the dead of the night. you had started to reconsider your clothing decisions as the baltic wind breezed over you, goosebumps arising on your bare legs.

fortunately, you were wearing a cozy hoodie that you would always throw on when you snuck outside in the middle of the night to smoke away, wanting nothing more than to simply escape your thoughts.

you caressed your forehead with one hand, the other holding the joint. you hadn't spoke to mattheo in weeks and it was starting to take its toll on you, you wanted to give him space, not wanting to interfere with his relationship, but it was proving more difficult than you anticipated.

the usual laughter that would be shared in and between classes was now filled with an awkward tension, neither of you wanting to break the silence.

late night wanders turned into late night cries, not longer having your usual companion to accompany you whenever you were finding difficulty sleeping. you mourned the 'loss' of your friendship, wondering what would have happened if maybe you had realised the immense feelings towards him sooner.

your mind was too clouded, distracted by numerous thoughts, too preoccupied to hear the footsteps appear behind you.

"i thought i'd find you here," you nearly froze, anxious at the thought of having been caught by a professor.

"mattheo," vou sighed in relief.

"that's me," he chuckled lightly. he closed the glass door behind him, taking a seat in the chair next to you. "you've been ignoring me."

"i figured you were too busy with your new girlfriend, now," you looked over at him. he looked disheveled, a faint stubble unshaved on his chin and jaw, his eye bags slightly darker than you remember, his eyes not as familiar as they once were.

"just because i have a girlfriend doesn't mean you need to cut me off," mattheo leaned back.

"don't do this to me."

"do what?"

you were brought back to the night of mattheo's eighteenth birthday, reminders of the tears that ran down your face when him and his girlfriend kissed, the way the world went silent around you but for everyone else; they were all happy for him and cheering.

"you know why i can't be your friend," you tilted your head as you looked at him.

"don't be stupid. you know you'll always be my friend."

"i don't want to be your friend, mattheo. that's the problem."

"what?" he was in a state of disbelief, wondering where all of this was suddenly coming from.

"i can't - mattheo...i," you fumbled around with your words, unable to figure out what you even wanted to say. now that it came down to it, every singular thing you wanted to say was suddenly stripped from your memory.

you closed your eyes, resisting the tears. you inhaled a sharp breath, trying to gather yourself as much as possible so you wouldn't break down in front of him.

"i don't want to see you with somebody else," your eyes fluttered open, a stunned mattheo looking back at you. "i can't just sit and pretend that i'm okay with the thought of another girl having you, because i'm not. i love you mattheo, but you're not mine."

you were unable to comprehend the emotion on mattheo's face. his eyes were wide, soft, but wide. his nostrils were flared, his fists tense by his side, his thumb rubbing over his index finger to comfort himself.

"say that again."

"what?" you breathed out, unaware of the deep breath you'd been holding in.

"say you love me."

"mattheo-"

"say it."

"i love you."

his movements were rapid, his hands finding their way to your waist, his lips fitting perfectly against yours. it took you a second to even comprehend what the fuck was going on, but you soon melted into the kiss.

his lips were rough, eager, but passionate as they moved. his hands roamed your body, longing to touch the body he knew so well. each curve, each freckle, each mole, each scar, his fingers traced

over.

an arm hooked around the back of his neck, your hand raking through his satin curls, a feeling you'd been missing for far too long.

mattheo's hands reached the back of your thighs, picking you up, your legs tightening around his waist. it didn't take long for him to find his way to your dorm, fumbling with the handle he finally managed to find his way in without dropping you.

his foot kicked the door shut, the steps he was taking felt like forever. you felt your body being placed against your familiar bedsheets, mattheo's body leaning over you.

it didn't take long for both of your clothing and undergarments to find their way onto the floor, discarded and forgotten about once mattheo's lips made their way back to your lips.

you'd never met someone with such soft lips yet rough kisses, light peppers and sucks as he trailed his lips down your jaw, making his way down to your neck.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he let out an exasperated breath, unable to come to the fact that you were fully real - and in love with him.

a mellow moan fell from your lips, mattheo's mouth falling around your hardened nip, capturing it with the light graze of his teeth. his calloused fingertips gently grazed down your body, one hand perfectly fitting around your other tit, his thumb toying with your other nipple.

you looked down at the boy, his brown eyes tainted with lust that consumed you, a fire igniting all over your body with how badly you needed him.

mattheo's fingers tickled their way down your torso, going right to where you needed him.

"fuck," he groaned, his fingers covered in a layer of your arousal. "so wet for me already."

wet kisses connect onto the sensitive skin of your neck, tilting your neck back to allow more skin for mattheo to mark and make his own. he let out a moan against your flesh, his hand pumping down his dick, lining himself up with you.

a gasp escaped both of your lips as he slowly began to slide into you, your walls stretching out against him. his hands found their way to your hips, his nails digging into your soft skin.

"fuck," he groaned, your nails dragging down the skin of his back, clawing away as he began to move his hips, rolling deeper into you.

he moved a hand from your hip, placing it around your throat. he squeezes around your neck, slowly adding more pressure as you let out even more unholy moans.

"just like that," mattheo grunted, your walls clenching around him with the feeling of his hands around your neck driving you absolutely insane.

"mattheo," you moaned. "god - fuck. please, i need you so fucking bad."

"good girl, tell me how bad you want me," his brows furrowed together, his pace beginning to fasten as he buried his dick further into your aching cunt.

"so bad," you gasped out.

"should've told me sooner," he threw his head back. "look so pretty under me."

you let out a whimper, your hands grasping at the sheets underneath you, twisting them tightly in your hand. mattheo's thrusts came in harder, your legs wrapping around the back of his thighs to get him even further inside of you.

mattheo leaned down, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, choked moans erupting from his mouth.

"my fuckin' god," he continued to roll his hips, unable to get enough of you.

"mattheo-" a whine fell from your lips, your stomach tightening as you felt your orgasm build up.

"fuck- keep doing that, doing so well for me," he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"shit," you bucked your hips up, mattheo's hips slamming down against you, his pace growing sloppier and harder with each second that passed.

"just like that, god, such a good fuckin' girl," your eyes rolled back, stars sparkling before your vision went white, your orgasm crashing down on you like never before.

"fuck," mattheo grunted, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, his cum spilling into you.

you let out a whimper as he pulled out of you, his body rolling into the space on the bed next to you. his hand trailed down your thigh, massaging it gently to calm the nerves that twitched throughout your jelly-like legs.

"i love you," mattheo pressed a kiss onto your shoulder.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

[lydiimae]

The stars, the moon

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI!

Warnings: Talk of drinking, sexist old ideas about women, talk of sex, Anthony being a cutie shhh, oral sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, body worship (f receiving), heavy praise, lovemaking more than hardcore sex oopsies

A.N: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET TO ME ISTG T-T the love on my first two fics is so heartwarming. i'm so very glad you liked them both so much ^-^ Benny and Bridgerton as a whole are both so very important to me so i'm glad i did them both well. anyways my loves, this is an Anthony fic that i hope i can do as well as i did Ben. i was listening to Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine and it gave me this idea! soooo here is an incredibly fluffy, (and smutty hehe) love filled Ant fic hehe<3 enjoy and thank you again <3 p.s that scene the gif is from sends my mind into a spiral CONSTANTLY my roman empire fr p.p.s I FINALLY GOT DIVIDERS, so now my fics will look a little cleaner i hope hehe >_<

Growing up next to the Bridgertons had been fun and eventful, to say the very least. You were there through every trial and tribulation their family had gone through, and them with yours.

You and your three sisters had always gotten along with the seven siblings. Being the youngest and most... rambunctious of them you had gotten along with Eloise and Benedict the most. They had views of marriage and duty that were similar to yours, and when you were younger you and Benedict would spend hours making doodles on the walls of the gardens at your estate.

Your sisters, who were much more of the traditional women you would often find in the ton, tended to be more akin to the eldest Bridgerton brother and sister. Daphne and Anthony, however kind and loving they both were, were always too strict or, in Daphne's case, too proper for your liking.

You had always thought of Anthony as the moon. He thrived in darkness and was often gone before you even noticed he was there. You never knew why he left balls early, or why you spotted him with that opera singer in the deepest corners of gardens or tucked away in libraries.

Until you grew up, that is. The first time you snuck out of the confines of your room was when you were ten and eight, right after the first ball of your first social season. Benedict had insisted on you sneaking out the window of your bedroom so you could tag along with him to a party a fellow artist was throwing, and you, out of pure curiosity, obliged.

You got there and had your first everything while Benedict was painting, or so he claimed, in another room. You kissed the lord, whose name you cannot remember to this day, and then you went beyond that. Sex. It was wonderful, you decided, and from then on you had much more of it.

Anthony was perceptive, he noticed the change in your behavior and one night even decided to ask Benedict about it. Benedict being Benedict told him everything in his usual carefree manner, not thinking twice about it. Anthony reacted quite strangely however, he just... turned on his heel and walked into his study, locking himself in for hours.

He avoided you at all costs from then on. It was strange, but then again, he was the moon. The moon cannot be out forever.

Anthony had always thought of you as the stars, a happy, mischievous young woman who thrived in the dark. You provided a light to every room you walked into that was too great for anyone to look away from. You were intricate, difficult to read and figure out, and yet you were also so intriguing that every man wanted to do just that.

You were also incredibly mischievous, he knew that from the moment you were born. Being eight years older, and a close family friend, Anthony was one of the first who got to meet you. You had always had that sparkle in your eye, like you were in on this grand plan that no one else was.

When you got older, it only got worse. You were constantly getting in trouble, whether that be drawing on your garden's brick walls with his brother or reading books about math or, fittingly, astronomy. Your father always described you as boyish, to which he would have to agree. You got into fencing when you were ten and two and immediately had a knack for it. When you were six and ten, you snuck off with Benedict and got taught how to hunt.

He was never attracted to your sisters as they were too... boring for his taste. They had interests in things like the latest fashion trends, or hairstyles, and he was sure that none of them had ever glanced at a book. It was quite comforting to know, that because of your foolish ways and thinking, he would never be attracted to you either. Or so he thought.

You were wearing a light blue dress when you entered your first ball, your arm tucked snugly with your father's. Your hair was pinned up more elegantly than he had ever seen it, a few of the still unruly, wavy strands fluttering in the breeze that your white fan made. Stunningly gorgeous in every way, and so ladylike. It was strange.

He had almost assured himself that he would never feel this way towards any woman like you, after all, his list of requirements for the next Viscountess was long and specific, to say the least. Yet there you were, walking towards his family, and he was very much sure he was attracted to you.

So when he noticed the jewelry you started using to hide the dark marks on your neck and the silly excuses you would use to leave balls early, it was worrying. He asked Benedict and his worst fears were made a reality, your innocence was gone. You were loose, in his mind. He could not, no would not, be attracted to a woman without her maidenhead. He refused.

The only way he could avoid that attraction was to avoid you at all costs, which is exactly what he did. He excused himself from every room you walked into, and every conversation. On the rare occasion that you somehow managed to worm yourself into a conversation with him, however, he gave short answers and cold glares.

His heart ached when he noticed your light dim after he left, but then again you were the stars. All stars have to burn out someday.

You found his insistence on completely avoiding you to be quite tiresome, after all, you considered him to be like a brother. An annoying, headstrong, arrogant, prick of a brother but a brother nonetheless.

You look over your shoulder to where he is talking to a young debutante, wishing that he would at least glance over. You would never admit it to yourself, but after his company waned you missed it quite a lot. You could talk to Benedict or Eloise, sure, but there was something about annoying Anthony that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

"Miss L/N, are you listening?" The lord, who you were supposed to be listening to, asks. You quickly turn back to him and part your lips to make an excuse, but quickly think better of it. "No, my lord. I apologize, my mind seems to be running from me tonight." You mutter with a soft smile. He nods in turn before continuing to speak about his latest hunting trip, in which you have absolutely no interest.

You excuse yourself when he is done rambling and make your way toward the Viscount, wanting to finally know the real reason why he has made it his life's mission to avoid you. You wish, so desperately, to see the moon again.

He sees you coming and his heart tightens, you look as beautiful as always. You are wearing dark blue, a gorgeous dress he thinks, and your hair is done up just how he likes it. You have on gold jewelry, which sparkles in the low candlelight with every step you take.

He should talk to you, he really should, and yet he cannot bring himself to. You are not the kind of woman he wishes to make the next Viscountess, not even close to checking off any of the boxes he has on his long list for what a woman should be.

So, instead, he settles for leading the young woman he is speaking with to the dance floor. He passes you without a word but falters momentarily when he catches a whiff of your perfume. Your scent, even.

You had always smelled, however strange it might sound, so comforting. Your family's colors were a light purple, the crest having two bunches of lavender flowers on it. You smelled the part, always having some semblance of lavender to you that wafted through the room whenever you entered. It wasn't strong, no, but it was just enough to get his heart racing. It wasn't just lavender that made it so intoxicating, there was something else there. Something that he could only describe as just... you. He smiles to himself at the many fond memories that come with it.

He catches the young woman looking at him in confusion and quickly puts on a straight face, continuing to walk her to the dance floor, but not before noticing the look of despondency on your face. His heart aches, but it must be done. He could not let himself fall for you, no matter how much he longed to see the brightness of the stars again.

Your heart breaks when he walks past you with nothing but a faint semblance of a smile, and for whatever reason, you feel yourself tear up. You wonder if you had done something wrong, or said something in a passing conversation that had rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps even entertained a man he had trouble with. Whatever it was, you did not like the unfamiliar feeling his avoidance brought.

Something that you had always hidden from everyone, including yourself, was your feelings. You felt no need to be a woman who expressed love openly, nor a woman who got teary at the slightest inconvenience. It is why you liked the parties you went to, sex and alcohol were wonderful to drown out feelings that you would rather not feel. Something else you had always hidden or shoved down, was your feelings for Anthony.

He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, what with his grey eyes and his thick brown hair. The things that you didn't like, such as his ignorant views of women, or his want to always be the best, were often drowned out by the fact that the man was extremely loving and protective of those he cared about. Not only that, but he was like you in that he was truly sensitive when he did not try and shove it down. He made you want to sing his praises from every balcony in London, to profess your love in front of all of the ton so everyone could see that he was yours.

You realize you have been standing in the same spot for what has to be at least five minutes now, and that a tear that had escaped in your reminiscing has now made it down your cheek. You quickly walk out to a balcony and lean on the railing, and for once, you allow yourself to cry.

He finds you after his dance with the incredibly boring debutante he decided to occupy himself with. He didn't want to find you, but his feet automatically found themselves to you. As if something deep inside him was naturally drawn to you and your stupid free-spirited nature.

He crowds around your back. "Is everything alright?" He whispers and is completely taken aback when he sees your face. You look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. It was surprising to say the very least as he cannot remember the last time he saw you cry. "My God, Y/N, what happened?" He asks, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"Why do you hate me?" You whisper back, and he is even more surprised than before. Hate? God he could never hate you, sure he avoided you, but he could never truly hate anything about you. No matter how much he tried.

He was just standing there like he had not been avoiding you for the past two months. Like he had not ignored your every attempt to speak with him, like he had not completely shattered your soul. It made you so angry that you could not stop the foolish words slipping past your lips.

"It is as if I have committed a cardinal sin, as if I am some heathen you cannot stand to be around and not a woman you grew up with." You say, taking a deep breath as heartbreak shifts to anger. "It is not fair. I have wracked every corner of my memory trying to figure out what I have done wrong and still, I turn up with nothing. I..." You falter and turn to look up at the stars. "You are so distant. I find myself aching without you, Anthony. Like a piece of my soul has broken off with your disappearance and is with you for eternity." You whisper, closing your eyes briefly before turning back to him.

"I ask you again, why do you hate me? What have I done?" You plead, searching his eyes for any semblance of his old self. His eyes widen in response and he takes one of your hands. "I do not hate you. God Y/N, how could I ever hate you?" He breathes and your heart flutters at the look in his eyes. As if you are the only woman on earth. He has returned back to you. The moon has risen again.

"I... I have tried to hate you, yes, but every time you are near something in me longs to touch you in ways that would make any lady blush. I hate that you make me feel this way, so foolishly in love that I can barely form a coherent thought, that the Viscount I am becomes but a memory, but I could never hate you." He confesses, bringing his hands to your waist.

Your eyes water as he continues. "You are a loose woman, or so I so foolishly tried to make myself believe. I ignorantly put that label upon you so I could have a reason to not profess from every rooftop in London how much I adore you and I can never forgive myself for it." He whispers, wiping the tears that have somehow escaped your eyes without your knowledge. "I will never be able to profess how sorry I am, but I can hope that in time you can forgive me for how foolish I have been." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How long?" Is all you can manage to croak out in return to his beautiful confession, resting your hands atop his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. "Since I was a young man, darling. Far too long I have kept it from you." He whispers back as your heart flutters at the title he has given you. "I have loved you since I was a girl." You whisper back. "So I suppose we are both fools." You grin.

He chuckles at that, his hands rubbing small patterns into the small of your back. "Always the witty one, hm? You are truly as bright and as mischievous as the stars, my love." Your heart hammers in the stars, at the way he calls you his love but even more than that, he thinks you to be the stars. "You and I have similar minds, Ant. I always thought you were like the moon, so serious and so attuned to darkness. Yet, so beautiful." You confess, opening your eyes to look into his own. Your cheeks flush at the sight that lies before you.

He is grinning, as if you had just given him the world. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, to which you eagerly return as your eyes close and one of your gloved hands cups his cheeks. He pulls away after a moment. "The moon is nothing without the stars." He whispers, and you smile softly. "I shall ask your father for your hand come tomorrow if you let me." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your brow.

Your heart flutters and you cup his cheeks. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Anthony Bridgerton." You whisper and he grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss is more intense than the first, more confident as he knows that you are now officially his. You wish for nothing more than to melt into him, become his both body and mind for the rest of your days. The thought sends shivers down your spine, making your core heat up at the thought of finally sharing your most intimate self with the man who has plagued your thoughts for years.

As if reading your mind he pulls back, but only just. "Might I invite you back to my bedroom, my star?" He whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling and nod eagerly. "Please do." You whisper back and he grins, straightening back up and grabbing your hand before pulling you out to where the carriages are. Not before muttering something to Benedict, who smirks playfully and winks at the two of you in return.

One carriage ride full of open-mouthed kisses and love marks later and you are getting lifted out of the carriage and carried into the Bridgerton estate. You had so many fond memories here, you are elated that you would have the privilege of raising a family in the big estate. The thought of a family with Anthony makes your chest feel tight with emotion and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to calm yourself.

He notices the change of emotion as he carries you through the front door, ignoring the many questioning glances the both of you receive from the servants who still linger in the hallways, and kisses the top of your head. "What is it, darling?" He murmurs in your ear as he walks up the stairs, toward his bedroom.

"I am only being sensitive as I envision our future that I have for so long ached for." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his neck to assure him that nothing is truly wrong. He groans a bit and smiles down at you as he ducks into his bedroom and places you on the bed. "It shall be a grand one. One filled with happiness and light, I assure you." He hums as he locks the door before climbing over you and peppering your face with kisses, which makes you giggle softly.

He moves his hands to your hair, taking out all of the intricately placed pins so he can see it in the state he loves the most, untamed and unruly, just like you. He runs his hands through your hair once he has it down, pressing kisses down your neck and to your collarbone which he bites. You whine softly at the feeling, but more so at the fact that you know he is going to leave marks. The thought of parading around a ball with his lovebites on your skin makes your cunt dampen and your thighs rub together in an attempt to relieve the ache that settles in your core.

He feels the movements of your body below him and groans as your knee brushes against his clothed cock accidentally, making him harden further than he already has. He continues to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands move under you. He pulls you up to a sitting position and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the soft noises he draws from you as his hands move to your back to work on the buttons that hold your dress up.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he lets out a groan as he exposes your bare back, the choice you made to forgo any undergarments becoming the smartest one you made all day. He makes quick work of your dress, parting from your lips as he throws it across the room. "Christ." He growls when he sits back and gazes at your naked body.

Your nipples are peaked from both the cold air of the room and the arousal caused by the way he is gazing down at you. The look of pure desire in his eyes makes you flood down your thighs, which he picks up on instantly. He grins, almost a cocky grin, before removing his clothes from the upper half of his body.

He bends down when he is bare-chested and kisses from your collarbone, down to your right breast. He sucks on the soft skin just to the side of your hardened nipple, making your hips cant up and into his, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckles deeply and moves a hand to yours, so you can have something to hang onto, the other moving to hold your hip down.

He pulls up briefly and rests his chin on your chest, gazing up at you adoringly. "You are perfect, Y/N. Every mark, every blemish, every imperfection is so gorgeous. So perfect for me." He murmurs and you flush, squeezing his hand in yours as a silent thank you as you are unsure if you could even form a sentence now. "Mine." He murmurs with a soft smile before returning his attention to your breasts.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you cry out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the bud. You squeeze his hand and your back arches up into him, making him groan. He pushes you back down, all while his mouth sucks and swirls at your sensitive nipple, and rubs soothing circles on your hip with his thumb.

After a moment, he moves to your other breast, giving that one just as much attention. You whine as he bites down softly before pulling up and beginning to mark each of your breasts. He lets go of your hip and smears his hand down your thigh, gently parting your legs as he kisses down your stomach.

You gasp as he gives a kiss to your naval and look down just as he flashes a cheeky grin. He continues his trail of kisses right down to your patch of hair, your free hand grasping at the sheets while the other squeezes his. You cry out when he licks a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing onto your swollen clit.

He takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it slowly, his hand moving back to your hips when you whine and try to grind against him. You roll your head back, pressing it into the pillow. You get a whiff of his scent and it sends a zing of pleasure to your abused clit just as he moves his mouth down to your swollen hole to drink from you like a man starved.

You moan into his pillow, taking the fabric into your mouth and sucking as pleasure ripples through your entire body. He moves his mouth back to your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your body, groaning at how tight you are. You cry out, the sound still muffled by his pillow, at the feeling of his finger and the vibrations his noises send through your body.

He adds another finger and begins to curl them into your walls, hitting that spongey spot that makes you scream. Your toes curl as he pumps his fingers in and out of your body in tune with the swirling of his tongue against your clit. You finally take your face out of his pillow. "Close... Fuck please please please, Anthony." You babble as you begin to see stars. You come screaming his name, his fingers gripping your hip so hard you're sure you will be marked there too.

He cleans you up with his tongue before returning to your lips and giving you a swift, but sweet, kiss on your lips. He sits up and slowly rids himself of his trousers, his cock standing proud against his stomach. The sight makes you mewl and spread your legs even wider in anticipation of him filling you until his tip meets your womb.

He settles between your legs and takes both of your hands in his, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you, Y/N." He murmurs. "I love you, Anthony." You return, and his lips are on yours. He slowly pushes his cock into your body, groaning into your mouth as you moan into his. He bottoms out and lets you adjust, kissing down your neck to your shoulder.

You gently push your hips down as a signal that he can move, and he grins against your skin. He begins to slowly rock in and out of your body, groaning at the noises he draws from your cunt. "Faster, Ant. Please." You gust into his hair, squeezing his hands tight in your own.

He does not need to be told twice. He begins to slam into your body, making your toes curl as you scream out. He continues his brutal pace, the sound of body meeting body filling the bedroom. He presses his forehead to yours just as your eyes shut. "Look at me." He whispers, stalling for a moment. "I want to see how good I make you feel. I've waited far too long for you to hide, my love." He breathes, and you open your eyes.

He gives that stupid arrogant smirk before beginning to thrust into you just as hard as before as if he never stopped. Your mouth hangs ajar, your mind too focused on the feeling of his cock to even try and stop the moans that flow freely from your mouth.

He moves a hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and circling to the rhythm of his thrusts. He growls when you clench around his length and moan his name. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck. "Come with me." He whispers, biting down on the skin.

The action sends you over the edge. You come for the second time, screaming his name and he follows soon after, painting your insides with his seed. He works you through your orgasm before pulling out and nuzzling your neck.

After a moment he climbs off of you and saunters to his bathroom, leaving you dazed on the bed. You turn your head and press your face into his pillow once more, letting his scent calm you down. He returns a moment later and laughs warmly at the sight. You blush at the noise and look up at him. "Funny that," He says, gesturing to his pillow as he cleans your thighs with the washcloth he brought out. "I did the same thing today." He grins.

"Mmm. When was that, hm? Did you sneak into my bedroom?" You tease and he grins, shaking his head as he places the washcloth on the bedside and crawls into bed. "No, though I am flattered you would think I would be so bold." He hums, pulling you under the covers with him and taking you into his arms.

You smile softly and bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes. "I did it when I walked past you at the ball. The young woman I was talking to thought I went mad. I had to stop and think of all of the fond memories I have of you." He murmurs as he rests his head atop yours, kissing it softly before closing his eyes as well.

You smile softly at the thought of him stopping mid-step just to think of you. It warms your soul. "I love you." You whisper, slowly nodding off to the sound of his heartbeat.

"And I love you, my star." He whispers before following you into a deep slumber.

The moon truly cannot thrive without the stars.

[fiction-is-life]

Calling Out to You

Summary: You reconnect with an old friend during the Season, but the young Viscount is not the same as the boy you grew up with.  Requested by @junevoidzombie​

Warnings: Description of injuries, minor character death, period misogyny, Anthony being difficult

~

“Help!” you called, starting to panic as the evening air grew cooler and the forest grew dimmer.  You sniffled and wiped your nose on the sleeve of your dress; your mama was going to be so angry, but the dress was ruined now anyways.  “Is anybody out here?” you cried.

You heard a twig snapping in the distance, and your head snapped up.  You let out a pitiful hiccup, but you finally stopped your incessant blubbering.  You waited a few more moments, hoping the sound would come closer, but it didn’t.  It must have been an animal, you thought.  

“Who’s there?” a voice called.  It didn’t sound particularly friendly, but any help was better than staying out here.  

“My name is (Y/N)!” you called back.  “I tripped and now I fear I have sprained my ankle.”

“Hold on.  I shall be there in a moment, miss,” the voice called back, this time slightly closer.  

In less than a minute, a figure started to take form in the growing darkness.  As he grew closer, you realized that he was younger than you were expecting - perhaps only three years older than yourself.  He had the most beautiful dark hair and eyes, though, and you became conscious of the horrible disarray you were currently in. 

He knelt beside you.  “I know you said your ankle is injured; is there any way you think you can stand on it, with my assistance?”

You shook your head.  “I have already tried, sir.”

“Anthony,” he interrupted.  He cleared his throat.  “You must call me Anthony, miss.”

Your face lit up with a smile.  “Then you must call me (Y/N), Anthony.  My family just moved here from Hertfordshire.  We now live at Turring Manor, and I was exploring the country when I fell.”

He smiled back shyly.  “Well, it would most likely be easier to carry you to my family’s home.  It is much closer than Turring Manor, and the sun is already setting.”

“That would be most appreciated, Anthony.  Thank you!” you replied eagerly.  

The next thing you knew, Anthony was lifting you off of the ground, being extra careful to not jostle your hurt leg too much.  Once you were off of the ground, however, Anthony looked at you while a blush crept across his cheeks.  “Um, it might be easier to walk if you put your arms around me as well.  I wouldn’t want your leg to pain you more than necessary,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.  

“Very well,” you whispered.  You couldn’t help your own blush as you did as he asked you.  Once that was done, he set off in the direction he had come from.

~

“Anthony, there you are darling!  Wherever have you been?”  A very beautiful woman came down the steps as you approached the very impressive home.  It must be Anthony’s mother; the resemblance was uncanny.  

“I am sorry I am late, mother, but our new neighbor fell in our woods and could not walk home,” Anthony explained. 

The lady’s eyes finally fell on you and concern filled them.  “Oh, you poor thing,” she cried.  “Anthony, bring her up to the yellow bedchamber.  I shall have the maids draw a bath and bring her something to eat.”  

Anthony’s mother sprung into action, and before you knew it, you were being laid upon a soft bed and Anthony was being shooed out of the room.  After a luxurious bath, you were given a silk nightgown borrowed from one of Anthony’s sisters.  

Said sisters (at least two of them - you had heard there was at least one more) came to keep you company before it was time to go to bed.  You could tell you all would become fast friends although the two girls were as different as could be.  Daphne was content to stay and practice piano while Eloise was always ready for an adventure.  Life would certainly not be dull living so close to Aubrey Hall.

“So Anthony really carried you all the way from the woods because you fell?” Daphne questioned as you explained what had happened that day.

“Yes, he did.  I couldn’t be more grateful; my parents would have been worried sick if they had not heard from me,” you said.

Daphne sighed, a dreamy look taking over her features.  “That is so romantic.  Like a knight rescuing the princess in the stories papa tells us.  Right, Eloise?” Daphne gushed.

Eloise rolled her eyes at her older sister’s antics.  “Anthony is hardly a knight in shining armor, Daphne.  You are being silly,” Eloise retorted.

Seeing how a fight was about to break out, you said, “He may not be a knight of olde but he certainly rescued me today.”

Eloise and Daphne looked at each other, slow smiles growing on each of their faces, making you nervous.  “Do you love our brother, (Y/N)?” they squealed in unison.

“What?  Of course not!  We just met!” you protested, but the butterflies flying in your stomach told a different story.

~

“Anthony!  You and Benedict - and Colin if he can behave himself and not eat all the biscuits - must come to my tea party this afternoon,” Daphne decreed at the breakfast table.  Her proclamation was met with several groans and one small protest of “Hey!”

Anthony scowled at his younger sister.  “Tea parties are for girls, Daphne.  Besides, I have a shooting lesson this afternoon,” he said.

Daphne beamed despite the implied insult.  “No you don’t!  I already asked papa, and he has rescheduled your lesson.  He hopes to join us for a bit after his meeting with Lord Aberly,” she said primly.  Her eyes glimmered with a spark of mischief.  “(Y/N) shall also be there,” she added in a sing-song voice.

“Fine, we shall attend your tea party.”

“Oh, come on, Anthony!  Why did you have to accept for the both of us?”

~

“Are you excited for the new baby, Ant?” you asked as you strolled in Aubrey Hall’s garden.  

He shrugged, making his broadening shoulders fill his jacket even more.  He had changed so much in the year he had been away at university, but he was still the same Anthony, thank goodness.  “I suppose.  It is always nice to welcome a new sibling, but the novelty has worn off.  Each baby is just like the last,” he chuckled.

You slapped his arm playfully, giggling as well.  “How could you say that, Anthony?” you scolded.  “Are you going to think that of your own children as well?”

You thought you saw his eyes flicker over your form with a strange expression in them, but it must have been a trick of the light for when his eyes returned to yours they were his normal welcoming brown.  

“No, I shall probably become as tender-hearted as my father when each babe is welcomed.  And dote on my wife for bringing such a miracle into the world,” he replied, that funny trick of the light occurring again and making your stomach inexplicably flip.

~

His father knelt to gather flowers for his mother, prompting Anthony to do the same.  “I shall gather some for (Y/N).  She was just admiring these daffodils the other day,” he spoke as he used his pocket knife to cut the loveliest blooms.  “I believe I will do as you suggested and ask her -”  

A thump behind him interrupted him.  

“Father?  Father!”

~

“Papa has inherited a piece of land in Scotland.  We are leaving within the week to go there.”  You stood in the door of what was now Anthony’s study.  He looked so small and lost sitting there, his late father’s portrait above him.

He nodded his head briefly before looking back down at the papers before him that required his attention.  “I shall see you when you return then.  Safe travels,” he spoke in a clipped tone.

“You don’t understand.  We are renting out Turring Manor and moving to Scotland.”

His head snapped up at this, but his eyes were distant and cold, his jaw set.  There was a pregnant pause before he spoke, “Then I wish you all the best, Miss (Y/L/N).  May God be with you.”

His terse farewell cut you like a knife.  You swallowed the lump in your throat.  “And with you, Lord Bridgerton.”

  You fled the house before anyone could see your tears fall.

~

Anthony was in the middle of his set with Miss Sherwood when there was a commotion at the entrance to the ballroom.  He looked to see a family enter, but they were blocked from his seeing their faces.  Accepting defeat, he tipped the corners of his lips up in what Miss Sherwood would know as a fond smile as he resumed their dance, forgetting the interruption entirely as the dance came to an end. 

“Brother!  How was your dance with the lovely Miss Sherwood?” Benedict clapped him on the back and handed him a glass of punch as he joined him near the terrace doors.  

He sighed, letting his austere Viscount visage fade just enough for Benedict to see how tired his brother was.  “She is well-spoken and graceful.”  He looked away from his brother and out towards the crowd.  “She shall make a wonderful Viscountess.”

Benedict’s eyes softened but Anthony refused to look at him.  “Will that be enough for you, Brother?  A wife and a mother to your children?”

Anthony fixed a glare on Benedict that would have made a lesser man shrink back and admit defeat.  “Isn’t that the point of the institution?  I shall gain an heir and somebody to take care of my households while I provide her with a name and protection from material poverty.”

“Some might add love into that mission statement,” Benedict said with a hint of sarcasm.

Anthony paused, but his mind was more made up than ever.  “I gave that notion up a long time ago, Brother.  Love brings nothing but heartache,” he spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion.

The brother’s staring contest was broken by a familiar voice.  “Lord Bridgerton, Mr. Bridgerton.”

The tall, dark haired men bowed.  “Lady Danbury, how do you do?”  Benedict took on the lion’s share of the social niceties as Anthony still had that far off look in his eyes.  He was not attending to the conversation at all, but Lady Danbury did not grow offended at his slight.

“Very well, Mr. Bridgerton.  I wanted to introduce you both to someone.  Her family has just moved back from Scotland - just in time for the season,” Lady Danbury continued, bringing you forward.

“(Y/N)!” Benedict cried, grabbing your hand to place a kiss onto your glove.

Lady Danbury raised an eyebrow in surprise, but her eyes were calculating.  “So you two know each other?”

“Miss (Y/L/N)’s family used to be our neighbors.  We spent many a day together before they moved away,” Benedict explained.  You were glad for it as your tongue was tied.  

“That is wonderful.  Then you two can help me introduce Miss (Y/L/N) to some other members of the Ton,” Lady Danbury smiled but fixed her eagle gaze on Anthony who had broken out of his stupor enough to gaze open-mouthed at you.  “Her family would like to see her settled.”

Benedict’s easy smile flashed.  “That will not be so hard a task for one as lovely as you, Miss (Y/L/N).”

You smiled wryly.  “It may become a little more challenging when people hear this is by no means my first season out,” you spoke, with that familiar teasing lilt to your voice.

“Nonsense.”  Your head snapped up at the almost angry outburst from the Viscount.  He cleared his throat.  “Many men will find you to be all the more acceptable for your age,” he said.

You smiled and Anthony made the mistake of looking at you - really looking at you - this time.  “You are right, my lord.  Many bachelors will be looking to find a wife before they themselves enter their dotage,” you teased, making Benedict laugh.

Anthony could not recover himself fast enough  - perhaps tell you that were more beautiful than the day you left - before Benedict was offering you his hand and leading you towards the dance floor.

~

“Miss (Y/L/N), may I have your next set?” Anthony intercepted you the moment Benedict led you off the dance floor.  He was spinning his signet ring on his pinkie finger.

“Of course, my lord,” you spoke even as he was already grasping your hand and leading you back onto the floor.

You spent half of the set in silence.  You could tell even after all these years when Anthony needed time to think.  You focused on the steps of the waltz and actively tried to ignore how it felt to be in his arms.

“How was Scotland?” Anthony finally broke the silence.

You blinked, startled.  “It is a most beautiful country, my lord,” you replied.

He nodded.  “Were there no eligible gentlemen there?”

Your brow furrowed.  “Of course there were many,” you sputtered.

“Why did you not wed then?”  The interrogation continued.

Your nostrils flared with your temper.  “I do not believe that is any of your business, my lord,” you stated, a hint of anger behind your words.  “I could say the same for you.”

“Yes, but I am a man; it is different.”

You scoffed, drawing the attention of some onlookers.  “Yes, I suppose it is.  I am but a woman.  Therefore my only purpose is to wed and have babies.”  You stopped dancing and broke out of his grasp.  You stood with your fists clenched at your sides.  “I heard you when you were near the terrace, my lord.  I cannot countenance how much you have changed.”

He watched in equal parts anger and despair as you walked away from him and out the doors.

~

“Mama, what are these?”  You fingered the petals of the daffodils that had been arranged in a beautiful bouquet.

“They must be from a potential suitor who saw how gracefully you danced with Benedict last night,” she replied, still not daring to mention the scene you had caused when you had stormed away from Anthony.  “There is most likely a card in them, peach.”

There was indeed.  You opened it to find a familiar neat hand.

I remembered these were your favourites, is all it read.

You closed the card and slipped it into your pocket.  “They are just from Lord Bridgerton.  An apology for our row.”

You purposely did not meet your mother’s eye so as not to see the look of disappointment that overtook her features.

~

“Who is that walking with Lady Danbury?”

“That is Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict quickly informed the fair-haired earl he and Anthony had been walking with along with Miss Sherwood.  “Would you like me to introduce you both?  She is an old friend of our family.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Bridgerton, that would be delightful!” Miss Sherwood cried.  “Wouldn’t it be, Lord Bridgerton?”

Anthony nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line.  “Most delightful.”

You and Lady Danbury had already come upon the group, and you paused.  “Miss (Y/L/N), you must allow me to introduce my good friend Lord James Thatcher, the Earl of Wembey and Miss Sherwood of Bath.”

You curtsied politely to the both of them.  “It is a pleasure to meet you both,” you said smoothly, years of good breeding taking over as your mind reeled.  So this was the Miss Sherwood that he had spoken of.  

“Miss (Y/L/N), would you care to join me on a small boat ride on the lake?  It is the perfect weather for it,” Lord Wembey addressed you directly, startling you.  You could feel Lady Danbury’s gaze on you.

“That would be most lovely, my lord,” you spoke as you took his proffered arm.

~

“Lord Wembey has invited us to attend the theater tonight with him in his box.  Is that not lovely, my dear?” your mama crowed.  This would not be the first time the handsome earl had singled you out in his attentions.  They had become quite marked indeed.

“That is wonderful, mama,” you replied, not looking up from your needlework.  “Shall I wear the yellow silk, do you think?”  And the conversation turned back to fashion plates and fripperies.

~

The pall mall ball soared into the air - straight into the woods and definitely nowhere near the intended target.  You were never good at pall mall, but what you lacked in talent you made up for in enthusiasm.  And the annual tournament was no exception - especially since it was your first after returning.

“I suppose (Y/N) must return to the woods,” Eloise teased.  “Hopefully you do not need to rescue her this time, Anthony.”

“Rescue her?  Whatever do you mean, Miss Bridgerton?” Miss Sherwood asked.  

You and Anthony both opened your mouths to explain, but Benedict beat you to it.  “Many years ago, Miss (Y/L/N) was walking in our woods when she injured herself.  Luckily for her, though, Anthony was there to help her home.”

“Oh, how wonderful!  It was like fate brought you together,” Miss Sherwood gushed, just as Daphne had all those years ago.

Anthony cleared his throat and brushed his free hand down his pant leg, trying to dislodge an imaginary piece of lint.  “Yes, well, it was a very long time ago, and I am sure the memory has been distorted until it seems much loftier than it is,” he spoke, more harshly than he meant in his flustered state.  “Shall we play on?  I believe it was your turn, Miss Sherwood.”

~

“I have noticed Lord Wembey and (Y/N) are spending a great deal of time together, Brother,” Daphne spoke as she entered Anthony’s study.  

“Have they?  I have not really noticed,” Anthony spoke with a clenched jaw, his pen arrested in mid air where it dropped a rogue dot of ink on the otherwise pristine page.

Daphne tilted her head and pursed her lips - a look she had perfected from childhood.  “I find that hard to believe, Brother.  Everyone expects him to propose - perhaps even tonight at mama’s ball,” she said.  She huffed lightly as Anthony still did not look up from his work.  “And people are also wondering why you have not proposed to Miss Sherwood yet.”

Anthony finally set down his pen and looked at her.  “How are those two connected, Sister?” he ground out.

Daphne did not break eye contact.  “Some people are saying that you have not proposed to Miss Sherwood because you hold a tendre for (Y/N),” she explained.

“Why would I care about the words of gossips?”  Anthony growled.

Daphne leaned forward, her face set just as hard as his.  “You may not care, but if you do not fix this, you could inadvertently tarnish (Y/N)’s reputation and ruin her chances at an excellent match.”  

Daphne made her way back towards the corridor.  “Maybe think about that, Brother,” she said before she shut the door behind her.

~

You rode fast and hard, uncaring of anything but getting away.  You did not even care that the skies looked as if they would open up at any second and flood the ground beneath you.  It would only be too fitting for your mood.

Another one.

You had rejected another perfectly suitable gentleman.  

What was wrong with you?  Lord Wembey was everything you were looking for in a husband.  He was young, titled, wealthy beyond measure, kind hearted, well-read.  He could do with some darker hair, but that was beyond his control.

You drew your horse up short at that thought.  Were you seriously comparing Lord Wembey to Anthony - yes, for he was still Anthony in your thoughts - and finding Lord Wembey wanting?

You breathed heavily as that thought washed over you, and you wanted to scream.

As if your thoughts had summoned him, Anthony appeared on horseback.  He cut an even more impressive figure than he used to, but that was no wonder.  His eyes locked on you, and he turned his horse to meet yours.

And you fled.

You could feel him following you, his better knowledge of the ground and larger steed allowing him to gain ground rapidly.  You could feel the promised rain start to pummel your back, but you pushed your horse faster.  Eating up ground faster than you could see it as your vision was blurred with rain and tears.  

“(Y/N), watch out!” were the last words you heard before your body slammed into the ground.

~

You opened your eyes to see it was already light in your bedroom.  Your mother sat beside you.  “Mama?” you rasped, wincing at how it made your head ache.

The lines on your mother’s face smoothed as she looked at you, before promptly starting to sob.  “Oh, you are awake!  We thought we had lost you forever!”

You scrunched your forehead as you tried to sit up.  You were immediately assisted by two maids.  “What happened, mama?”

“Oh, you would have been lost without him!  Going out for a ride in horrific weather, what were you thinking?” your mother was working up into one of her fits of hysteria.

“Mama!” you broke her off.  “Lost without whom?”

“Oh, Anthony, of course!  He saw you get thrown from your horse, and he carried you all the way back on his.  He personally saw that the doctor was fetched, too, wonderful boy,” she gushed.

You fiddled with the comforter, unsure of what to say.  

There was a knock on the door. You turned your head to see Anthony standing there, fidgeting with his signet ring just as he did in the days immediately following his father’s death.

“I shall leave you two to have a moment of privacy,” your mother whispered as she stood.

You attempted to reach out to her, stop her, but she was too quick.  She beckoned the two maids to follow her but left the door open for propriety’s sake.  

Anthony did not move from his position near the door even after your mother vacated the room.  The air felt heavy, and you were finding it hard to breathe.  You smoothed the bedcovers although they were practically perfect.

“I am so relieved you are awake,” Anthony croaked, his voice raspy with disuse.

You steadfastly continued your study of the linens.  “I am told I have you to thank for that, my lord.”  You congratulated yourself on keeping your tone even.

“Will you stop that?” Anthony’s tone was sharp, and you finally looked at him fully.  His face was drawn, and it was clear he had not shaved in a few days.

“Stop what, my lord?” you asked, genuinely confused.

He walked towards your bed, his face red.  “Calling me that,” he practically spat.  

You scoffed, not believing he was truly acting so childish.  “Well, it is your title.  It would be improper for me not to -”

“Marry me, then.”

You must have hit your head harder than you thought for you were certainly hearing things.  “What?” you breathed.

Anthony knelt at your side and took your hand tenderly in his.  “Marry me, (Y/N), please,” he implored.  He shook his head.  “I should have asked you ten years ago, but I thought I could prevent my heart from breaking by not letting it be touched.”  His gaze fell on your joined hands.  He cleared his throat.  “I was a fool.  I disregarded the fact that it had already been stolen from me.”

His warm brown orbs found yours, and you felt your heart climb into your throat.  You took a rattling breath as your eyes stung with tears.

“Anthony…” you breathed.

No further words were needed as your lips joined in the kiss you had always been waiting for.

~

My Masterlist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

My IRL ex who lives abroad now is dating my online friend who also lives there and I am deceiving them, AITA?

All of us are Asian, 29. Fake names are used.

My ex (Fred) was my childhood best friend, we grew up together in the same conservative society, people expected to see us marry since we were kids, all that jazz. At 18, we both moved away and kept up LDR. Moving meant big changes of course, I was in a huge city and I had internet access for the first time. I became a BTS fan in 2013, I started creating and reading a lot. I joined tumblr, made friends from all over the world. I was being radicalized rapidly, and I figured out I was bi too. My world was suddenly a million times bigger.

He however, didn't change much. He was scientific minded unlike most people here and his friends were all STEM kids but they were still functionally right leaning. He was racist when it came to BTS or East Asians in general. He was ignorant and happy to ignore queer existence, he used to say things like queer people needed to be shown the right path. We were turning out to be quite the opposites. Eventually we broke up. He was heartbroken, he tried to drag me back in many times and I avoided him like plague. I managed to ditch him completely when we were about 23. He left for USA to study.

Around the same time I befriended one of my closest online friends, Daphne. We lived in the same state but she was always traveling so we never got to meet. We're both hellsite veterans and keep our identities under lock & key so we don't know our real names or exact place of work, but we know each other's deepest kinks and childhood traumas, and stories about our exes. We both had the same kind of interests, politics, and fandoms, we're both bisexual. I've also come out as a trans man a few years ago and I go by a masculine name online, can't transition IRL. Daphne's known me since my girl era. Daphne left for USA last year for her Masters.

Now the wild part, by some twist of fate, Daphne met Fred who's also working on his Masters in an adjacent field. It is by no means a niche subject and USA is the fourth largest country, they still found each other. He sang in our first language at some party, he's very hot, and... he's into BTS like her. Wild. So they're now dating.

They started following each other on twitter and he followed a bunch of her friends including Me! We have exchanged pleasantries and while on his account he has his real name and location, mine is a mixed bag account with my fake name and my (sfw) queer creations all over it.

I know who He is but he doesn't know who I am, he thinks I'm just one of Daphne's dudes, and Daphne doesn't know that she's dating my ex who she had promised to drop into the Challenger's Deep (joke). My reasoning for hiding the truth is-- It's still not safe for me to be out IRL and he can mess it up. I remember his bigotry, I hate him, I have every right to avoid him and here that means not revealing my identity. But it's been years so maybe he has changed, and Daphne is my friend. So, I feel like a massive ahole for not telling her at least. At the same time she really did hate my racist homophobic right leaning ex a lot, so knowing the truth will make things awkward and I don't want to lose my friend.

So, there you have it. AITA?

BTW, no I'm not into BTS ships or reader insert fantasies, that's not what I create. I know someone would ask about it so there. I'm also Not attracted to Daphne, if I was I'd have asked her out straight away, I don't play around about my crushes.

What are these acronyms?

[thescoobyscholar]

The History of Zoinks (Essay)

Includes an etymological and cultural analysis of the usage of "jeepers," "jinkies," and "zoinks." Another post will include the follow-up study.

If you grew up watching Scooby-Doo, it may be easy to assume that groovy green tees, ascots, and vans painted with flowers were all standard 60s fare. However, recall that these teens were not written by teens; when the first episode aired, character designer Iwao Takamoto was 41, main writer Bill Lutz was 47, and creators Joe Ruby and Ken Spears were 36 and 31, respectively. Were they already out of touch? As put by Paul Dini, writer on Scooby-Doo! Abracadabra-Doo: “When you look at those characters, they are characters frozen in time. They’re not really what hippies or hipsters or cool kids were like. They’re what 50-year olds thought cool kids were like” (“Scooby Doo! The Whole World Loves You”).

The most iconic quantifiers of how close these characters were to the “cool kids” is their catchphrases: “jeepers,” “jinkies,” and “zoinks!” When we hear the cartoon’s catchphrases, which claim to characterize this era, we must ask: Did people really say these things? Even though these terms are almost exclusively associated with the franchise today, these words were not born for marketing. The writers were pulling from memories, trends, and histories which, if we trace backwards, may glean some evidence as to their cultural accuracy.

Daphne’s classic “jeepers” is said to have been first penned in 1928 by cartoonist Billy DeBeck, whose popular Barney Google strips coined similar terms as “heebie-jeebies” and “holy moly” (Chakraborty and Dosad 117). The true origin of the word is likely several decades earlier, as Google’s catchphrase “Horsefeathers!” was already coming out of fashion among the construction workers that used it when DeBeck revived it in his parody of Appalachian colloquialisms (Funk and Funk ix-x). At the time DeBeck picked up “jeepers,” it was used as a euphemism for “Jesus!” (Harper, “Etymology of jeepers”).

However, the Scooby-Doo writers were more likely to be familiar with Al Donahue’s song “Jeepers Creepers” (as in, “Jeepers creepers, where’d you get those peepers?”). The song jumped high enough in America’s popular music charts in 1939 that it was covered by Louis Armstrong, Larry Clinton, and later Frank Sinatra (Whitburn 533). As an alteration of “Jesus Christ,” the flexible phrase was perfect for bouncy love ballads (“Oh, those weepers, how they hypnotize!”) and as a horror movie motif in Jeepers Creepers. The fact that the film was released in 2001 speaks to the staying power of “jeepers.”

As for Velma’s catchphrase, “jinkies,” it may be a variation of a number of old Scots terms dating around the 18th-19th century, so you may as well pick your favorite: a synonym for “jauntily” (as “jink,” to dodge or flee; nowadays “to juke” may be applicable), a nonsense word in nursery rhymes (e.g., “Eetum, peetum, penny pie / Cock a lory, jinky jye”), or a child’s nightgown (Dictionary of the Scots Language); a type of knitted fingerless glove (see Kate Davies Designs); or yet, as a derivation of “high jinks,” a drinking game that dates back to at least the 17th century (Harper, “Etymology of jinkies”).

The term was first recorded as exclamation “By jinkies!” in the newspaper strip “Ella Cinders” in 1936. The first recorded use of the term by a human (assuming comic characters can’t mail in letters to the local paper) was in a 1938 edition of the Northern-Courier in the sports section. Ray writes: “By jinkies, on my next pass day I will surely stop and see that 178 foot wheelbase, fire truck. If I can’t make it in one day maybe I can get an extension. Some truck.” (How many feet is the Mystery Machine’s wheelbase, I wonder…?) Again, “jinkies” is preceded by “by,” which Velma, as we all know, would choose to omit. By Scooby’s birthday, the term was popular among college students and “overly earnest” speakers (Iseli), fitting for the youngest of the gang who is always piping up with a clue to prove her intellectual merit.

Unlike “jeepers” and “jinkies,” which have decent pedigrees preceding Scooby-Doo, neither “zoinks” nor “zoink” directly appear in any written work before 1969, although they have a number of distant cousins. The closest approximation comes from television: a famous bit in 1958’s “Robin Hood Daffy” where Daffy swings from tree to tree, calling, “Zoiks, and away!” with each jump, only to crash face-first into a tree every time. His iconic lisp makes it difficult to parse whether he’s saying “zoiks” or “yoiks.” The latter would seem more likely, as “yoiks” and its sister “hoiks” have a long history as hunting words. On a bright and early morning in 1843, Sir Godfrey calls for his friend to hurry and saddle up: “Hoik, 'squire! . . . hoik, hoik! High wind him! Drag on him, yoiks, tally-ho!" (Mills 125). On the tail of a fox chase in 1774, a hunter in pursuit exclaims, “Yoiks, hark forward!” (Kelly 6). Contextually, neither sound too far from the modernized “Zoinks, let’s scram, Scoob!” The first “zoiks” was penned around 1584, in a sonnet of all things: “With mightie maters mynd I not to mell, / As copping Courts, or Comonwelthis, or Kings / Quhais craig zoiks fastest, let tham sey thame sell; / My thoght culd nevir think vpon sik things” (Montgomery 1–4). I can’t claim a clue about what the rest means, but “zoiks fastest” leads me to think this is a “jink”/”juke” situation; in “zoiking”, the narrator is fleeing from the cowersome courts, commonwealths, and kings. Coincidentally, “mynd I not to mell” sounds almost adjacent to “meddle,” another word popularized by Scooby-Doo. All of the “zoinks” family are employed as interjections preceding movement.*

In sum, while “jinkies” appears to have had some relevance at the time of Scooby-Doo’s inception, “jeepers” is a bit dated in comparison, and “zoinks” has a vast etymological tree but no direct precursors. The advantage to having a cast of characters who are, in the words of Paul Dini, “frozen in time,” is that they are living time capsules. We can choose any point within 50 years and see unique perceptions of culture, politics, music, style, and our focus: vocabulary. But how well do these perceptions line up with reality?

*All, that is, except one. “Yoiks” may also be used to refer to egg yolks, as in a cookbook from 1762: “Take a large Fowl, or a Pound of Veal, as much grated Bread, half a Pound of Sewet . . . Mace, two Cloves, half a Nutmeg grated, about a large Tea Spoonful of Lemon-peel, and the Yoiks of two Eggs” (Glasse 38). Add an olive toothpick on top and you have a Shaggy sandwich!

References

Chakraborty, Pritesh, and Anuradha Dosad. “Comic Monthly 1922: Exploring Form and Themes.” Department of English, Vidyasagar University, vol. 15, 2022, pp. 112–125.

“Ella Cinders.” Montana Standard, 29 Sept. 1936, p. 11.

Funk, Charles Earle, and Charles Earle Funk. “Foreword.” Horsefeathers, and Other Curious Words, Harper & Row, New York, 1958, pp. Ix–x.

Glasse, Hannah. “Made-Dishes.” The New Art of Cookery, Made Plain and Easy, John Exshaw, 1762, pp. 38–39.

Harper, Douglas. “Etymology of jink.” Online Etymology Dictionary, 28 Sept. 2017, https://www.etymonline.com/word/jink.

Iseli, Marcel. “Jinkies! You’ll Never Believe What Velma’s Catchphrase Means.” Linguablog, Iseli International Commerce, 18 Sept. 2022, linguaholic.com/linguablog/jinkies-scooby-doo/.

"Jinkie." Dictionary of the Scots Language, Scottish Language Dictionaries Ltd, 2004, http://www.dsl.ac.uk/entry/snd/jinkie_adj

Kate Davies Designs. “Jinkies Pattern.” Ravelry, SARK, Nov. 2021, www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/jinkies.

Kelly, Hugh. “Epilogue.” The Romance of an Hour: A Comedy of Two Acts in Prose. G. Kearsley, 1774, line 6.

Mills, John. “A Meet of the Olden Time.” Ainsworth’s Magazine, edited by William Harrison Ainsworth, vol. 4, Chapman and Hall, London, 1843, p. 125.

Montgomery, Alexander. “To R. Hudsone (Sonnet 2).” The Poems of Alexander Montgomery, edited by David Irving, James Ballantyne and Company, 1821, pp. 76.

Szymborska, Wislawa. “Moment.” Monologue of a Dog. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2005, pp.11-13.

Ray. “Diamond Dust.” The Courier-Northerner, 29 July 1938, p. 8.

"Scooby Doo! The Whole World Loves You." Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! The Complete 1st and 2nd Seasons, produced by Hanna-Barbera and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc, 2010. DVD.Whitburn, Joel. “The Songs.” Joel Whitburn’s Pop Memories 1890 - 1954: The History of American Popular Music, Record Research Inc, Menomonee Falls, WI, 1986, p. 533.

[dreamyfanfix]

Chapter 5: Long Gone But Not Moved On

Sorry, I know this is late but I was writing and kept writing and then I had 15K words. I eventually found a stoppage point but it required me to write a bit around some things especially because this chapter and the next are a bit miserable for the pair. It will get better though...

--

Present:

It had been a couple of days since Kate had a near miss with Anthony in the hospital. Learning about how much of a bad time he had been having since they were forced to see each other again was not something she took lightly. Kate barely remembered what happened after her breakup with Anthony. All she remembered was deep pain and then almost being lucid again 5 months later with a puppy named Newton and an urge to do better.

Seeing Anthony again was not easy for her either but unlike Kate, Anthony had moved on and so even though it hurt her to see him with Siena and hear about his dalliances from gossipers, Kate kept her head down and tried to be a good ex-girlfriend.

Kate had gotten messages and missed calls from Daphne and Simon. Kate knew that avoiding Simon would be too difficult hence why she found herself in Agatha Danbury's office this early morning.

Kate had just handed Agatha her notice and Agatha was surprised and irritated, to say the least.

"I thought we agreed you would give me more time to discuss with the shareholders about promoting you," Agatha said sternly.

"We did but things changed. I think it would be best if I moved on," Kate said with what she hoped was finality.

"If this is what that Bridgerton boy said to you at my godson's baby shower then you must know that I gave him and his mother a stern talking to,"

"I don't doubt it but you know I wanted to move more into family law. Do not get me wrong I think we have done a good job rattling the feathers of the elite but now I think it's time I get to work on fighting with the less fortunate," Kate said.

"You are making me regret investing in your friend's firm," Agatha chuckled.

"You won't regret it. Sophie is more determined than me when it comes to this stuff and it will be a challenge but I have always done my best as a solicitor when I was the underdog," Kate said chuckling a bit.

"I guess I have to understand that thought myself," Agatha continued "I accept your notice, Kate," Agatha stood up to shake Kate's hand and Kate stood up to take it.

"Thank you. You have been an incredible mentor all these years," Kate said emotionally.

"Hush now child, you will shine just fine on your own. And if not there will always be a place for you here at Danbury Law," Agatha said.

"Thank you again," Kate said and made to leave but not before asking the question she has had on her mind since she first started at Danbury Law "Why is the firm called Danbury Law?" Agatha turned to face Kate again and looked at her with an arched brow "Why not name it Agatha Law or Soma Law after your maiden name?"

Agatha sighed and then said "You must know I am a proud West African woman but my relationship with my past is not that positive I'm afraid," Agatha took a breath and continued "I grew up in a small village in Sierra Leone, my family did not have much of money, prospects or connections. When I was 8 years old I was attending church with my parents when a man came to town, he was from a village over but he got adopted by a British family and was visiting his country of birth. He took one look at me and proclaimed me the most beautiful girl in the world. Naturally, this is not an uncommon thing I had heard when I was younger but he was hyper-fixated on me, he made me laugh and promised my parents he would come back to marry me... My parents were thrilled," Agatha paused to take a seat behind her desk "From then onwards I was raised to be his wife, he would send letters with his interests, likes and dislikes and my parents would make sure I would know all of these things and submit to his lead. After the death of his benefactors slash parents, of which he received a hefty inheritance, he came back to Sierra Leone and married me, exactly like he promised he would,"

Kate slowly walked back into the room and took a seat opposite Agatha's desk "That seems like a fairytale,"

Agatha smirked "That's what all the society women would say when we came back husband and wife, Lord and Lady Danbury," Agatha sighed and continued "You see back in the eighties people were not that particular about age gaps. I was a 19-year-old girl married to a 42-year-old man. To society I was just indicative of how men crave young flesh and young women are opportunists. They didn't see the possible terrible dynamic I was in... See I was dependent on my husband, Sierra Leone was not exactly the most stable political environment and despite my decrepit husband, and I hope you don't mind my candour here, constant copulating his young wife, I liked England. I liked the freedom that I had and what hindered me because of my race, my new wealth and my title would sort out no problem. I did my duty, I gave him 4 children, 2 sons and 2 daughters, who wished for nothing and lived their lives well-off,"

"So it was a mutually beneficial relationship? Not quite unheard of, especially in my culture, although not as romantic as one might think. I guess your loyalty to your married life is why you keep the name Danbury Law," Kate said.

"Oh no. I may hate my family for pawning off on an old man but I despised the late Lord Danbury," Agatha held her hand up to stop Kate from interrupting her and continued "I loathed the late Lord Danbury, so I use my wealth and influence to fund all things he would have hated when he was alive. My husband was one of those Black people who enjoyed being the only one in the room and hated the idea of educating women and desegregating the classes as well as spent his time fighting AGAINST well-rounded immigration policies particularly people from former colonies which was incredibly awful considering Sierra Leone was one itself,"

Kate took a calming breath while Agatha looked off into the distance "I still don't understand why you would then want anything to do with him,"

"It's not enough to fund movements and bills that would help dismantle everything my husband held dear, no, I have to do it using his name so he will always be associated with it. Most people, like yourself, live their life to honour their families, and make them proud and in a lot of ways I am doing the same. I do what I am doing because it's important to me that wherever Herman is he rots and whatever kind of legacy he thought he was building gets overshadowed by the work I am doing. I want to make sure that future generations including my children, will think of me when they think of Danbury and all the work I have done to dismantle this terrible inequitable society,"

"I think that's an honourable vision," Kate said, feeling emotional and proud at the same time. Lady Agatha Danbury was a badass, it is just a shame that she had to go through so much to be that way.

----

Past:

Anthony was on cloud nine. Kate and Anthony had been together for 5 months and they would be making their first public appearance as a couple, at a benefit being held by Bridgerton Investment Group, and he couldn't be more happy. He looked at himself one more time in the mirror and then checked his watch for the time. He and Kate would be late if he did not check on her soon. She was not good with time but that is why he usually got her going early to get ready because he had timed her preparation times and averaged them out to understand how long she generally needed to get ready.

It was super analytical but he also knew that Kate appreciated being a bit more on time to things so he felt secure in his efforts.

As Anthony made his way to his bathroom, Kate came over to get ready as he was nervous she would back out and she was nervous that they would not look good together.

Anthony was not nervous about this event, he had been to millions of events like these but he knew Kate was feeling nervous because she had never really interacted with wealthy people unless they were on the opposite side of the courtroom. Kate was close friends with Simon but Simon had a way of keeping things close to the chest so there was no way of knowing if she knew the full extent of these events.

He knocked on the door to his master bathroom and entered. Kate was busy with her makeup but Anthony could not focus, she looked incredible. She was wearing a light pink dress that hugged her curves as well showing off her cleavage.

"Uhmmm babe you're staring," Kate said, he had not even noticed she was looking at him through the mirror and slightly blushed.

Anthony walked up behind her and kissed her neck "I was just thinking about how stunning you look," Anthony said nipping at her neck. He took a whiff of her neck and she stopped, he could see the goosebumps travel up her neck and he felt full of himself for a moment.

"If you continue like that we are going to be late," she said trying to sound stern but it came out breathless Anthony chuckled but backed out of the room.

--

The benefit was a success at least Anthony thought it was. He was currently having a drink with his friends, no cigars because Kate hated the smell, and his friends were ribbing him about the fact.

When he and Kate first arrived there seemed to be hesitation in their reception but as they went around the room and said their hellos, many people seemed to relax and commented on how well they complemented each other so he relaxed and eventually he felt confident enough to leave Kate to her mingling and went to catch up with some old friends of his.

Simon finally put out his cigar and Anthony took a breath, even though he was not smoking himself, he knew the smoke in the room could linger on him "So Bridgerton, you and Sharma doing good?" Simon asked.

"Yeah Bridgerton, you seem to be taken completely out of commission these days," Marcus Fife commented.

"What can I say, gents? I'm happy," Anthony stated trying not to blush and shrug.

"Well, then it makes sense curry is the national dish, then? I might get me one of those," Conrad Pemberton remarked.

"Excuse me?" Anthony said as his blood turned to ice.

"Pemberton, Chicken Tikka Masala is the national dish you idiot," Fife exclaimed.

"Okay, so how do I get me one of those Tikka Masala's Bridgerton?" Pemberton said with a chuckle.

Pemberton stopped talking the minute Anthony got in his face, he was angry beyond belief and was shocked at how much his old friends could be so cavalier with their racism "Pemberton speak about my girlfriend or any Indian like that again and I will pummel you just like in sixth form,"

Fife came between the two men and said "Relax Bridge, I know you are going through your Prince Harry phase but eventually, you got to do your duty like the rest of us heirs and marry yourself a Kate Middleton," 

Simon who had left the room to go to the bathroom was back and asked "You all know Kate Middleton is already married, right?"

Anthony was trying and failing at calming himself down and Anthony thought Simon could see his distress but did not comment on it "I was just telling Bridgerton that eventually he's gotta settle down, right?" Pemberton said with a bit of smugness that Anthony did not like and he narrowed his eyes.

Simon looked between Anthony to Pemberton and asked "Is that not what you are doing with Kate? Settling down?"

Anthony knew Simon cared deeply for Kate so he was probably asking more for himself than Pemberton "Of course I am. I would not bring her as my date if I was not serious about her,"

Simon nodded his head "Oh come off it Bridge, this has to be a piss-take. You are a man of a particular taste," Fife said

Anthony was now full-blown seething but asked "What the hell does that even mean?"

"I don't know but we definitely haven't seen you eat an Indian meal before mate so colour us curious," Fife said with his hands up.

"Anthony goes for the women he finds attractive, he does not date based on race," Simon said trying to de-escalate the situation "Maybe, we should change topics?" he suggested.

"Okay fine, but mate let me know if Kate has any friends or a sister, I would love to have a taste of the national dish," Pemberton said chuckling.

Anthony was not sure what happened next but Anthony had to be hoisted off of Pemberton by Simon. Pemberton's face and Anthony's knuckles were bloody and Fife was laughing in the corner.

Simon dragged Anthony into a separate room and left him to cool off, at least that is what he thought until he returned with Kate and his mother.

"Anthony darling, are you alright?" Violet asked "We heard there was a tussle that occurred,"

While his mother stayed close to the door and looked at him curiously Kate came closer to him to inspect him, touching his face and Anthony felt better but also sick with guilt at the same time.

"Well I'm not sure if it was a tussle or more like a one-sided beatdown," Simon remarked.

"Well you don't look injured, so who did you hit?" Kate asked but Anthony did not reply, he could not reply. He just is not sure how he would explain to Kate how his ex-friends spoke about her and women of her race. He was disgusted with himself so he remained silent.

Simon who thought this was a conversation that should not be in public suggested "Maybe we should leave the benefit,"

"We can't leave they have not even gotten around to announcing how much money was raised tonight," Violet said seeming concerned.

"Violet, by now everyone knows what happened so I don't think there will be more or less gossip if Anthony just leaves a bit earlier," Simon said smoothly.

"Anthony, what happened?" Kate asked so gently that Anthony's heart broke all over again.

"It was just some old form mates saying some dumb stuff, Anthony's had a few drinks so he just lost his temper," Simon said trying to help Anthony so he did not have to have this conversation in a room at a public benefit that was still ongoing.

"Well, what did he say, Anthony? What could he have possibly said to excuse your deplorable behaviour?" Violet asked and Anthony stiffened, he knew that tone coming from his mother, it was dripping with disapproval.

"There were some things I did not agree with so I got mad," Anthony said softly.

"Anthony most of the gentlemen here have been your chums for decades, what could they have possibly said that angered you so?" Violet asked.

Anthony stayed silent but then Kate asked "They said something about me didn't they?"

Anthony's head turned to her and she was looking in his eyes not with judgement but with like resolved and sad eyes. Anthony swallowed and nodded his head.

"Well, Anthony boys will be boys. I've heard you and your brothers say some appalling things about women but I do not resort to roughness to correct you," Violet said.

"Well maybe you should have," Kate said in a soft voice but she knew that his mother probably heard her. She remained looking at her hands.

"It wasn't just some misogynistic comments Mother, of which I have aged out of making," Anthony said the last part looking at Kate and imploring her to look up at him but she never did so he continued "There was also a racial aspect to their comments,"

Anthony could feel Kate stiffen beside him and he held his breath. There was silence in the room but just when it felt like Anthony would scream just so someone would say something Kate stood up and said "Good then. It's sorted,"

"I'm sorry. What do you mean it's sorted? Anthony has to apologise to the guests and to the gentleman he hurt," Violet said looking at Kate confused.

"Look Violet, Anthony can make the rounds on his way to apologise for causing a commotion but he does not owe a racist misogynist any apology," Kate said.

"Kate, I know you don't know how these things work but in our society, it's very important that a level of politeness and manners are maintained," Violet said.

"So he gets to make racist comments about his friend's girlfriend but when said friend stands up for his girlfriend, the friend is the one deemed the ill-mannered and rude one?" Kate asked using her solicitor's voice, normally Anthony would be turned on by it but now he felt his mother might not be able to stand against Kate and he was nervous "Violet we are all in the same society just because you choose to interact with only certain members of it does not mean that we are not meant to be held to the same standard. Just like with Mayfair Girls,"

Violet scoffed "This isn't a high school. This is real life and this is just how things are done,"

"Maybe that's the problem," Kate remarked.

"That's enough," Anthony finally said and stood up "Simon, I know you hate these types of things but if you could please find my secretary Freddy and get the numbers for the benefit and give them to Benedict so he can announce them," Simon nodded and left the room "Mother don't worry I will send an apology to Conrad Pemberton and make sure that I will cover any medical and dry cleaning expenses," His mother looked satisfied "Kate, I think we should make a quiet exit out of the back the entrance," He went to grab her hand but she looked at him funny and walked to the door.

Anthony sighed and followed her but before he made it to the open door, his mother spoke "Anthony, I will make sure Freddy gets your jackets and gets the car to come around for you," Anthony nodded his head at his mother and went to follow Kate.

The car ride back to his home was silent but if Anthony was honest, it was a silence he needed. He was busy writing emails and texts. As much as it pained him he had written apologies to Pemberton as well as the board and planners of the benefit for any disruptions and made promises to make it up to them and behave better in the future. It was generic and so insincere but he knew it had to be done.

When they finally got back to his place, Kate got out of the car before Robert could come around to open it and Anthony jumped out to follow her in. Kate's long legs carried her into his place and when he entered a while after her she was already out of her dress and packing her things.

Anthony asked, "Babe, what are you doing?"

"Don't babe me Anthony. Not after tonight," Kate said and she continued to aggressively pack things into her bag.

"I understand why you are mad," Anthony said, he knew the idea of being associated with someone like Fife and Pemberton might decrease her level of respect for him but he hoped she had known him better by now.

"I don't think you do, but humour me. Tell me why you think I am mad at you," Kate said turning to him and folding her arms.

Anthony sighed "Look what Fife and Pemberton were saying tonight is not actually what I think or a reflection of who I am. I barely see those guys I wouldn't even call them friends,"

Kate scoffed "Anthony, let's just say I was able to get over you ordering me about. What about me makes you think I would be okay with you apologising to a racist?"

Anthony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache was forming "Kate, you don't understand,"

"Actually, I think I understand better than you. It wasn't racist comments made about you or your family so it's fine then?"

"I didn't say it was fine but I should not have lost my temper," Anthony exclaimed. Why did she not understand?

"You lost your temper because you care for me and I hoped that you cared about shutting down racists!"

"I do care!"

"Then why did you spend so much effort and time sending apologies to those racists after the fact?"

"It's important to maintain a level of politeness with important people in society," Anthony said a bit more level-headed.

"More important than defending me and people that look like me?" Kate asked and Anthony noted the tears in her eyes. He tried to approach her but she took a step back "Standing up to your enemies is easy but it takes greater courage to stand up to your friends. Before you sent off your little apologetic emails, everyone at the benefit would have known where you stood on racism, where you stood on us,"

Anthony felt like things were spiralling and he was struggling to keep up, Kate looked hurt and it hurt him "Kate I am against racism. I did stand up for us,"

"For 30 minutes, then you were apologising as if a person being a racist is a minor inconvenience and not something morally wrong,"

Anthony was panicking now, Kate sounded so sad then "It's not like hitting him was going to change the world,"

"But it would have changed my world, Anthony. I'm not a fool I see how people look at us sometimes but at least I thought I was in this with someone who had my back, that we were a team... And now, I just need time to think about what we are as a couple,"

Anthony could barely breathe but as Kate continued packing Anthony went to stop her hands "Kate, please stop. Just wait a minute here. I'm still the same guy, the man who loves you. What can I do to make this right?" The question he asked came out with a broken voice that even he could hear.

"It's alright Anthony, I think I just need time to resolve the kind of guy you are with the one I had in my head," She was full-blown crying now and Anthony sniffed his tears away.

"Okay okay. I will give you some space just... Please know that I do love you, and that... I'm sorry," Anthony said in a small voice.

Kate had her back turned to him and all he could see was her nodding her head as she continued to pack.

Kate called her mother, Mary, to tell her she would be coming home, so she called an Uber. Anthony tried to change her mind but then she told him her mother wanted to track her trip considering the time of night. They sat in silence for 5 minutes waiting for the Uber and Anthony could not stop taking glances at Kate. Her tears eventually dried and she looked resolute and then she was gone out of his home.

The minute Anthony turned around after seeing Kate to her Uber, he looked at his empty apartment and felt hollow. Anthony was used to apologising to keep the peace whether that was at work, with his mother, his siblings or with women. This was the first time keeping the peace seemed foolish. 

--

"Edwina would you give me back my shoe, I'm gonna be late to meet Anthony," Kate shouted at her sister's door while knocking on it.

Even though it was muffled Kate heard her sister yell on the other side of the door "No! Anthony is a dickhead! I don't want you to go to lunch with him and forgive him!"

"Edwina language!" Mary shouted from the living room.

"It's true mama! He let his friends say horrible things about Kate and all Indian women,"

"Edwina you need to stop eavesdropping on the conversations Kate and I are having," Mary said walking into the hallway until she stood side-by-side with Kate.

"Bon, he didn't let anyone say anything he beat him up remember?" Kate said, feeling the need to defend Anthony. It was important to keep her emotions focused on the things he did and not contort the past with negative emotions.

"Yeah, but he apologised to that racist ars- egghead. Relationships should not be so hard," Edwina said.

Kate sighed, she did not want to disillusion her sister "Bon, life is not like those romance books you read, they are hard and require understanding from both sides,"

Mary sighed "Your sister is right, my love. If I steered clear of hard relationships I would not have married your father and had 19 years of wedded bliss,"

Edwina unlocked her door and opened it slightly "I guess you're right," she handed Kate her shoe but before Kate could thank her the doorbell rang.

Edwina immediately sprinted to the front of the house, Kate tried to run after her but one of her shoes was not put on right so she had to stop.

By the time Kate and Mary got to the front door, Anthony was bouncing while holding his foot, like he was in pain. "Edwina, what did you do?" Kate asked.

"Why do you assume I did anything? Did I hurt you, Anthony?" Edwina asked with a fake sweet voice.

"No, and even if she did it's not like I didn't deserve it," Anthony said standing properly.

"As long as we are on the same page," Edwina said as she walked back to her room.

Mary sighed and followed her "I'm sorry Anthony. I'll talk to her," she said before she left.

Kate turned to Anthony and for the first time noticed the flowers in his hands "Are those for me?"

Anthony jumped and handed her the flowers "Yes, although I feel I should have brought some for your sister and your mother," he looked self-conscious for a moment.

Kate took the flowers and sniffed them before making to leave "It's good that you didn't. Edwina is allergic. I usually keep flowers in my room. At first, it was cause it reminded me of India but then it was to keep Edwina out of my room and now it just makes me feel better to see and smell them,"

"You never told me that," he said as they made their way down the stairs.

"It's not a big deal," Kate said as she shrugged. She was feeling nervous as this was the first time she had been alone with Anthony since their fight.

Kate had been a bit withdrawn when she got back from the benefit, Mary knew not to ask questions when she got back and just helped her change and go to sleep. It wasn't until she had gotten angry at Edwina unnecessarily that Mary sat her down to talk. She cried as Mary held her and they spoke about that night and about racism. Mary knew better than anyone what people thought about mixed-race couples as she was the offspring of one but Mary said she felt like Anthony was special. Mary told Kate it was more important that his first instinct was to defend Kate. It might seem like he went back on it later but societal pressure is immense and it can even make it so that the best of people make bad decisions. Mary made Kate giggle when she said Kate came out of the womb with a backbone of steel but others are not as lucky and that it is always important to lead with understanding and grace especially when the other person is trying.

6 days later Kate was still working on it but she finally texted Anthony back. 

As they made their way to the pathway, Kate turned to walk down the street but Anthony looked like he wanted to get to his car. "Oh, I thought we could get a quick coffee at this cafe nearby. It's usually quiet around this time, so I thought we could talk," Kate said.

Anthony looked hesitant "Oh sure,"

"Unless you already had a place in mind," Kate said nervously.

"No, we can go to the cafe. I want you to be comfortable," Anthony said.

Kate nodded and she led him to the cafe. 

Kate was right the place was quiet, mostly because the owners: The Gunningworths were not the most friendly people. Richard Gunningworth was a renowned lawyer who had 3 daughters. The only biological daughter he had was Sophie, a friend of Kate's. When Kate spoke to Sophie about finding neutral ground for her and Anthony to talk Sophie suggested they meet when Sophie was working her shift.

Kate and Anthony spoke. It was stilted at first but when Anthony blurted out that he did not want to break up, Kate was taken aback.

"Anthony I'm not going to break up with you," Anthony nodded and Kate could see his body visibly relax and she felt guilty. Communication with her partners was not something she was great at but she hoped she would be better because she loved Anthony more than any other man she had been with. Kate took his hands and said "I just wanted to discuss why I was so hurt that night," Anthony nodded and she continued "I've spent the last 10 years of my life fighting for a better society for people like me and other minorities. It's not an easy job and even though I know I'm morally and ethically in the right people still treat me like I'm a pariah. Like I'm the bad guy for trying to make the world fair... Even you did at first," Kate put her hand up to stop him before he spoke "I'm not trying to take a shot at you, I'm just trying to be honest. Being right is a lonely place and I have often hidden behind the fact that despite being alone I was right but it doesn't keep you warm at night,"

"You have me. You are not alone. I can keep you warm," Anthony said softly.

Kate smiled even though she was a bit emotional "I want to know that. I want to believe it with every bone in my body but I'm just not sure. You have a set of rules you live your life by and I don't think it's always going to align with the way I live mine but I'm willing to compromise some,"

Anthony's eyes widened "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Just that even though you did apologise to your friends-"

"They are not my friends," Anthony interjected almost growling "Sorry,"

Kate sighed and continued "Even though you did apologise to those guys after defending me, I have to give you grace because your first instinct was to defend me. I just hope it was not just because I was your girlfriend but because what they said was just wrong,"

Anthony sighed and looked down "Kate... I don't- I don't know. I wish I could say it was but I'm not sure... I'm sorry,"

"It's okay. There is no way of knowing anyway. I love you and as long as your first instincts are to protect me then I can't be that mad, can I?"

"I don't want you to feel like you are giving up being a good person to be with me. Not when your strength of character is one of the main reasons I love you in the first place," Anthony said squeezing her hands.

"I know. I'm not. I am just going to adjust to the way things are done in your world," Kate said squeezing his hands back and Anthony nodded.

Anthony smiled "How did you get so well adjusted?"

"My parents and a good therapist. I can recommend one if you like not the one I see but someone who would be next on the list if I ever break up with my current one. Therapy does wonders," Kate suggested.

"I think I'm going to take you up on that offer. I think it will be good for us," Anthony said.

"It will be good for you, and that's what is important," Kate said smiling.

It wasn't this big declaration of extreme devotion and love that most people would expect from romantic comedies but Kate loved Anthony and she was happy to adjust certain aspects of her thoughts and reactions especially because Anthony was always changing for and because of her. In relationships, it was important to meet halfway and Kate was happily back with Anthony so what was the big deal? He was going to go to therapy and work on himself and in the meantime, Kate would give him grace.

---

For the last month and a half, things between Kate and Anthony returned to relative normalcy. Kate had noticed she was still not invited to brunch with Anthony's family but she tried not to take too much offence considering Anthony wanted her there but his mother was in charge of organising it every month. That being said every time she would bump into one of his siblings and they asked her why he did not attend or what she missed out on, she wondered if her and Anthony's relationship was seen as a serious thing to his mother, yet.

Before Kate could bring it up though, Anthony invited her to an event held by his grandmother, his mother's mother, Dowager Lady Ledger. This was a big deal because every one of the Bridgertons and Ledgers was going to be there and Kate would finally meet all of Anthony's family.

It was only fair, right? Anthony had met all of Kate's family. All 2 of them. Kat often thought about what her father would think of Anthony, would he see him as a random rich guy or would he see the caring guy underneath? Kate tried not to get too deep in her What Ifs because they just made her sad.

Kate smoothed down her dress. It was an afternoon event but Kate was still nervous. Luckily Daphne was available for shopping since she had to take a reluctant Eloise, so she tagged along and got herself a very nice dress. A very expensive dress but Daphne said that Anthony was fitting the bill, which did not sit well with her Kate knew there was no way she could borrow a dress like she did at the last big event especially when it was so important she made a good impression. 

So Kate settled on a colour-blocking Versace almost-mini dress. She looked great but also daring. The colours suited her skin tone and showed off her best asset: her legs.

Kate knew Anthony was nervous about this event. She hoped they could avoid drama but she knew that could not control everything. Even when Kate left home, Mary looked on edge.

Kate smoothed her dress while she sat at the back of the car, driven by Robert.

Anthony grabbed her hand and said "The dress looks stunning. You look stunning. Don't worry,"

"Sorry. It's just that today is an important day," Kate said looking at him.

"It's just a party like any other babe," he said.

Kate tried to calm down but before she could reply, Robert informed them that they had arrived.

Getting into the event was relatively more smooth and casual than the benefit and Kate quickly found a group of women to talk to. Some of them were rich and/or titled but the two that Kate bonded with were a doctor and a florist. Jennifer and Rebecca were married and partnered respectively with Fife and another guy named Michael Stirling. Rebecca was by far the youngest and she looked incredibly uncomfortable whereas Jennifer who despite having a similar background to Kate fit in because she was well-respected as a doctor.

Kate spent a lot of time talking with the two women and when Jennifer went off to use the loo, Jennifer leaned in and said "She's not gonna last,"

Kate who was sipping her drink at the time almost choked and asked "Why do you say that? I mean I know they are young but they look cute,"

"They are always cute but Michael does not stay with them for long," Jennifer said.

"Oh that's a shame," Kate said.

"Not really, she does not exactly know what she is getting herself into with these kinds of people," Jennifer said and Kate hummed her agreement. There was a lot of money and prestige flying around the room and even though Kate was not a part of it she had years of experience holding her own around people like this "You look like you got the memo though,"

Kate looked at Jennifer surprised and chuckled "I mean I guess. I don't have to do much,"

"Yeah, but that's good. At the benefit, you were wind up tight and Anthony was the same. Hence all the unpleasantness," Jennifer said casually.

Kate was confused by the remark. She was not sure what she knew "As long as people keep their racism to themselves I'm sure we will all be fine,"

"I mean to be fair my husband and Conrad were complimenting you,"

Kate's blood ran cold "Excuse me?"

"Look I've been there myself when I first married my husband but I realised that you have got to let them be themselves and do what they want so your relationship can be strong,"

Kate stood up and made her face stoic "Just because you are okay with being disrespected by your husband and his mates does not mean that is something I am okay with,"

"You say that as if they are not Anthony's mates as well. My husband, Conrad and Anthony go back years. It only makes sense that they would make up over a little disagreement," Jennifer said smiling and Kate could finally see how arrogant it looked, it leaned more into a sneer.

"Anthony being forced to make civilities with them does not mean he condones their behaviour," Kate said straightening her back to defend her boyfriend.

"My dear, I guess Rebecca is not the only one who is unaware. Anthony did not seem to have issues with My husband or Conrad at last week's polo match or a month ago at the Smythe-Smith musicale," Jennifer took out her phone and showed Kate pictures of the group of men smiling and laughing and Kate's stomach churned.

Kate walked away briskly until she made it to the loo and threw up the contents of her stomach, which unfortunately because food had not been served yet, was not much.

Kate cleaned herself up and looked at herself in the mirror. Anthony had lied to her? Well he had not lied, he merely omitted what he had done. What did it matter anyways Kate, knew Anthony had to make amends with those arses, she just did not know Anthony was having such a good time doing so. She felt like she had been sucker punched. She felt foolish and mostly sad, Anthony had to keep a part of his life from her maybe because he was ashamed but maybe because he did not want to be judged by her. She tried to find the grace she promised to give to him and was resolute to bring it up to him at a later date. Today was about impressing the Bridgertons and the Ledgers so she focused on that.

Kate spent the rest of the night schmoozing and putting on her best personality traits. Eventually, the woman of the hour showed up: Dowager Lady Ledger. Kate could not help but note how she looked old but not frail, stern and a little unfriendly. Kate wondered if it was wrong of her to notice the fact that her smile mirrored a lot of the women in the room: insincere.

Anthony introduced Kate to his grandmother and she remarked "Wow, you are beautiful,"

Kate smiled "Thank you. Of course, the only beauty people have their eyes on today is you,"

"Well thank you for flattering an old lady like myself, dear," she said.

"Is it flattery when it's the truth?" Anthony said and all the women laughed.

Lady Ledger took her hand and put it on his face "What a handsome charmer,"

"Thank you, grandmother," Anthony said "I love you,"

Lady Ledger smiled sweetly and was escorted around the rest of the room by Anthony's mother and brother, Colin.

Kate felt like she could take a breath "That went well didn't it?" Anthony said.

"Yeah, I'm glad she at least thinks I'm pretty," Kate said.

"Babe, you are the most beautiful woman ever. Now I would never say that to her because I fear her but you know that," Anthony said as he kissed the side of her head and Kate felt giddy.

All of a sudden the idea of what had happened with Jennifer earlier seemed like a dream and what she had with Anthony was the reality she needed to focus on.

--

Later as the party winded down and the little sun they had gotten dwindled to dark greys, Kate was happily dancing with Benedict when Anthony cut in.

"Are you having a good time?" Anthony asked as they swayed together to the music.

"Surprisingly, yes. Your siblings are hilarious and I like them," Kate said laying her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," Anthony said.

"For what?" Kate asked.

"For accepting all of this. My family. Me. I know it's not exactly the best example of how to use wealth but it's important to me to maintain our family's name. I hope it's not too much,"

"Anthony, of course. I love you. The rest is just noise," Kate said.

Anthony kissed Kate softly. She could hear some camera's going off but she didn't care for once.

It was then that Violet tapped Anthony on the shoulder "Can the both of you come with me?" she asked and Kate felt dread.

[shylittlefrogg]

Because for some reason Winx Club haunted me again so Bloom And Tecna Design sheet

+ a bunch of headcanons because I really have a lot for this show

Bloom

•Because she is from Domino, one of the most magic-rich planets, you would think that she is tall like all of her relatives (Daphne is easily 2 meters) but since she grew up on earth, a place without much magic, she is only tall 1'60 (5'2). Smoll bean that she will commit arson-

•On earth, she felt very hot because of the human clothing that trapped heat, partly because of her physiognomy, like because of the dragon's flame. Because of all the heat she feels in her clothes, at least her pants are breathable, but it's still a lot.

•Once in Alfea, she is known to steal Stella and Tecna's clothes. The first because Solaria's clothes are specialized for heat/fire fairies and the second because Zenith's clothes are made for cooling

•Bloom has more dragon characteristics in her base form (very hidden ones that only start to show up in Alfea) than anything else, which really makes everyone wonder how she spent so much time thinking she was human.

•She likes to wear flip-flops, not only because of the heat, but also because she like hear Stella decry how she's committing a fashionable crime. (&lt;3)

Tecna

•like everyone on Zenith is definitely part Cyborg, if Tecna is part Cyborg here and her hands were replaced with robotic parts after an accident as a child (hence the red area on her hands).

•She is short, 1'63 (5'3) to be exact, which is a standard height for Zenith. If Tecna hadn't researched before she joined the school, she would be overwhelmed by the rest of the much taller fairies.

•Tecna wanted to connect with her roommates in the first few weeks, so she downloaded a bunch of memes from all the planets (including earth) into her head. Everyone laugh every time Tecna quoted something out of place.

"I'm pretty sure that size of your plant is not natural"

"Don't tell him it's not natural, just let him have his Big Natural"

*cut to Musa and Bloom dying of laughter*

•As Cyborg, there is a certain part of her that requires charging to function. In her base form, she doesn't use much energy/magic so she just uses her shoes to charge. But in her fairy form she needs a lot of energy, which is supplied by the green gems implanted throughout her outfit.

•She's fucking gay to Musa, then she and Musa saw Flora and said 'oh... Pretty girl' /hj

[alphashley14]

One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev Next>

Chapter 16

Endlessly

“Do not be afraid.” 

Those were Mystery’s first words, after the stunned silence dragged on at such a pace that it grew to be unbearable. 

Thus far, this wasn’t the worst reaction he’d ever gotten to revealing his true form. At least no one had screamed, run, or thrown a spear at him yet. 

Mystery drooped his ears, lowered his tails, and lowered his head submissively, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. 

I’m like Lewis, Mystery told himself, no matter how much he knew it was a lie. Please realize I’m like Lewis. I’m your friend. I’m a good boy. I’m just as you’ve always known me. Please. 

Vivi walked up to Mystery helpfully and gave him a scratch behind the ears. 

“Sooo… yeah. We decided to save the best for last,” she joked. But her actions said something else: See? I’m petting him. It’s safe. He’s a friend. 

But alas, fear was wafting through the air, curling deliciously into Mystery’s nostrils. It was almost enough to make his mouth water. In another life, he would have done all he could to chase that feeling. But coming from them, his Children of Nibiru, the kids he was supposed to protect… it just felt wrong.

“I was born this way, and this is how I shall die,” Mystery said, laying down with his paws stretched out in front of him, seven tails curling around his body. “I am what is known as a kitsune - a type of yokai descended from Annunaki. My kind are gifted shape-shifters. So like Lewis, I assume an acceptable form so that I may walk among humankind. I’m sure you know very well that dogs are much more acceptable human companions than foxes - a fitting form for the guardian spirit of the Yukino family.” 

“So l-like um… this definitely explains a lot.” Shaggy said with his signature nervous laugh. 

“You’re a kitsune?” Velma asked slowly, visibly pale. 

Oh no. Which of the legends has she heard? “I am,” Mystery said gently with a nod. 

“Uhm… what kind?” 

“Leave it to you to know the old tales,” Mystery chuckled. 

“Just answer the question,” She said quickly.

“I am the son of a yama and a tengoku. As for me, I am a mori-”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Velma said accusingly. 

“Why does it matter, Velma?” Daphne asked. 

“Because he may or may not be capable and likely to kill us all!” 

“K-k-kill us?” Scooby trembled. 

“‘Capable’ and ‘willing’ are two entirely different things, Velma.” Mystery said gently. “Scooby’s teeth and claws are perfectly capable of ruining flesh. Fred could kill too if he wished, with his multitude of traps and weapons. Or Lewis or Vivi, with their powers. But they never would, because we are friends. Yes - I am a nogitsune. But I consider each of you to be friends and allies, and have placed you under my protection. So yes - I could kill you all, Velma. But that would be extremely unlikely. I would sooner die.”

“Hold on. Just- hold on,” Fred said, standing up and nervously rubbing his neck. “Let’s pretend for a second that most of us here aren’t familiar with Japanese folklore and start from the beginning. Please.”

Mystery sighed. “I am a kitsune - a fox spirit and a yokai, which is a japanese subclass of demon. What most people don’t know however, is that my people were originally animal descendants of the Annunaki. But not like Scooby and Professor Pericles. When Annunaki breed with mortal animals, the first few generations of descendants retain some of their ancestors’ traits and abilities. Usually, these disappear as the Anunnaki blood is watered down through generations of mating with regular animals. But some of their earliest descendants, my ancestors included, did not want this to happen. Sooo…” 

“Sweet home Alabama?” Velma guessed. 

“Precisely,” he sighed. “But not just that. Our bloodline also intersected with the native Yokai who already lived in Japan and we became adept with the magic of this world. The result was a new species: the kitsune. A creature part-mortal and part-god, descended from the wild foxes of Japan, the gods of Japan’s spirit world, and the gods of another. This is how I fit and diverge from the pattern. I can talk, and I am a descendant of the Annunaki. But biologically, I am a much closer descendant than Scooby or any of the others, and my blood is intermixed with that of other gods.” 

“We know it’s a bit much. Everyone following along?” Lewis asked. 

“So far, yeah. But what did Velma mean by different types?” Fred asked. 

“And what’s that got to do with killing us?” Ricky asked. 

“All kitsune are essentially divided into two diametrically opposed… camps. The zenko, and the nogitsune. Zenko, also sometimes called Inari Foxes, are benevolent to mankind and serve the god Inari. They serve the gods, perform good deeds, and are physically incapable of ever harming a human. Then there are nogitsune, also called the yako. We are… more complicated.” 

“By ‘more complicated’, you mean ‘evil’. And you’re one of them.” Velma said. 

Mystery nearly growled at her, but he stopped himself. Still, everyone flinched at his slightly bared fangs. Mystery took a step back, took a deep breath, and explained himself. 

“All that you know is what you have read in your books. Against what many of the old stories say, and what many of the so-called ‘good spirits’ spread around… the world is much more complicated than good and evil. Yes - I confess. I am a nogitsune. My mother was one, and my father abandoned his place in kitsune society and became one to run into the wilds with her. Really, it was quite the scandal. But they weren’t evil, and neither am I. However…  They were mischievous. And they hurt people… and there was a very long period in my life where I did too. 

“But then, I met Mushi. She could have killed me. Maybe she should have. But instead she showed me mercy and treated me with respect. I bound myself to her and her family, and before I knew it… I fell in love. With her and her family, then with all of mankind. So yes. I am a nogitsune. But that does not make me evil. Rather (just like humans, really) I have the freedom to choose the sort of fox I want to be. I can be good. I could be evil… and when necessary, I can walk the gray areas to protect those who are worth dying and killing for. 

“The time of the samurai and the onna-musha is over. I may be among the last, but I am not the first of my kind to ally myself with a warrior or to grant them my power. Think about it. As pure as they are, an Inari Fox would be of little help in battle. They are incapable of causing harm to humans. You need a yako for that - like me.” 

Quietness settled over the conservatory as the kids processed what they’d been told and made up their minds about what they thought about it. 

“I think… I get it,” Scooby said. And he walked over to sit beside Mystery. The dog giggled, looking up at the kitsune. “Wow, you really are big.” 

And that was certainly true. The tips of Scooby’s ears didn’t even come up to Mystery’s shoulder. 

“Like, if Scoob’s cool with it, then so am I. Like, so long as you don’t like, kill us.” Shaggy gulped. 

“Nonsense - I find each of you uniquely delightful. And I see no reason why we should ever become enemies.” Mystery said, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles, tails thumping against the floor.

“Alright. You’ve been good to Vivi, Lewis, and Arthur for this long. So I guess I don’t have much choice but to believe you. But I still can’t say I trust you. Not completely,” Velma said. 

“I expect no less,” Mystery said fondly. 

“Well then gang, I guess we’re friends with a kitsune, now.” Said Fred. 

“Yeah…” Ricky mumbled. “Friends…” 

“So then,” Velma said, “You’re a nogitsune. But which of the thirteen types did you say you were again?” 

“And uh… go over it like most of us don’t know much about Japanese mythology,” Daphne reminded him. 

“There are thirteen different kinds of kitsune that each correlate with a different chakra,” Mystery explained. “I won’t go into all of them, but I am what would be known as a Mori - a kitsune of the forest. I have the same powers as most of my kind, but I have some abilities that correspond to plants, trees, moss, fungi, earth, animals, etc. that the other 12 types don’t have.” 

Fred prompted, “And those powers would be…?”

“Shapeshifting, obviously.” Mystery said, and in a flash he changed back into the little dog they’d all gotten to know. “As I said before, I usually take on this form because dogs fit well as companions alongside a human society. You should know from experience Ricky, that something more exotic-” and they gasped as he transformed into a large white moluccan cockatoo, then flew over their heads to land on the back of the sofa behind Ricky. “- Tends to attract a bit more attention.” 

He fluffed up his red and black mohawk, then stretched out his wings to show off his black wingtips. “Don’t get me wrong though, the form I would be most comfortable in aside from my own is a fox,” and the bird became a normal-sized, one-tailed fox stretched across the back headrest. “But alas, thanks to your fairytales and legends, people don’t tend to find those too trustworthy-” and the fox hopped down onto the seat, then onto the floor and turned back into a dog. “-So a dog suits me just fine.” 

Then Mystery walked back over to where he’d been sitting originally and resumed his true form. “Apart from shapeshifting, there’s my foxfire of course,” he continued. He raised his paw, and conjured a magnificent ball of crimson flame, smirking smugly at the awestruck expressions of his audience. “Fire is as dual as we are. It’s only fitting that we kitsune be so well-adapted to it. Capable of providing warmth or pain. Fostering life or destruction. Leading men to salvation, or luring them to their deaths. That is the purpose of foxfire.” And with a flex of his claws, he extinguished it. 

“As Shaggy has already observed, I am also capable of observing and manipulating auras and energies. Let’s see… I can also cast magic spells and have knowledge of runes and potions. There’s also the casting of illusions, the manipulation of dreams, possession, manipulation - though that one is more of a learned skill,” he said with a teeny bit of pride, “- and not one that I would use on any of you,” he paused to assure them. “And… without going into all of the little things I can do with those basic abilities, that’s it.” 

And that’s when Ricky finally snapped. “That’s it? That’s IT, he says!” Mr. E roared, and he shot to his feet and stormed past Mystery. 

Lewis made a move to stop him as he passed, but Mystery stopped him, “Let him go.” 

And he watched sadly as Mr. E flung open the ornate back doors and stomped into the gardens. 

“Rut’s up with him?” Scooby asked.

“Like, no kidding. Did I miss something?” Shaggy asked. 

“Yeah. What was that about?” Said Velma.

“I was afraid of this,” Mystery groaned with drooped ears. 

“What do you mean by that? I mean, he was fine with Lewis being a ghost. Whatever happened to ‘at least they were honest about being dishonest’?” Asked Daphne.

“Emotions often contradict each other. Emotions and logic contradict each other even more often. Though in this case, not trusting me is actually the logical thing to do,” Mystery said with a shake of his head. “Don’t forget: the pain that followed the last time a talking animal - specifically one whom he considered a friend - lied to Ricky about his true nature.” 

Mystery Incorporated looked at each other, then cringed in unison with a chorus of “Yeeeah…” “Yikes,” “Ouch,” and “Oooohhh…”  

“Poor Mr. E,” Daphne said thoughtfully. “I didn’t think of it that way.” 

“Most wouldn’t,” Mystery said. “But I’ve had about a thousand years to observe humans and learn their ways. I won’t be so arrogant as to say that I’m usually right, but if I didn't acquire some level of emotional intelligence after all of this time, then what kind of trickster spirit would I be?” 

“You need to talk to him,” Lewis said.

“I think not. At least not now,” Mystery said. “Give him a bit to himself to process. Children, one of you,” Mystery said, turning to Mystery Incorporated, “If you wouldn’t mind…” 

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Through his anger, Ricky was in fact aware that he was being stupid. 

Fuck, why did I storm out? He groaned to himself, absentmindedly petting the head of the purring Dead Beat in his lap. Three of them had come out after him a minute or two after his dramatic exit - courtesy of Lewis, he imagined. 

Damn it. How was he going to go face everyone after walking out like some overly dramatic soap opera character? 

Well, it’s long-since gotten dark and all of the yard lights are on… 

“I’m going to have to go back in eventually, aren’t I?” He groaned. The three Dead Beats around him made noises of agreement and nodded. 

Or I could just stay out here and let the darkness swallow me, he considered.

The latter seemed less daunting than the former at this point.

Just then, he heard a distinct squeeeak as the back door opened. The Dead Beats made a couple happy noises at the newcomer and one of them zipped over to say hello.

Crap. 

“Uh, hey? Mr. E? Or um… Ricky? Sorry - still getting used to that. How’re you doing?” 

“I’m uh… I’m fine, Daphne.” He said, glancing back but not looking at her. He heard the click of her heels as she crossed the stone patio, then she sat down in the chair beside him, holding the third Dead Beat like a cat in her arms. They didn’t talk for about a minute, and Ricky stubbornly looked out over the illuminated gardens to avoid looking at her. Out of shame, not her own wrongdoing. He hoped she knew that. 

“Hey guys,” Daphne said to the Dead Beats, “I uh… kind of want to have a word in private for a minute so no offense but could you…?”

The Dead Beats chirped affirmingly, then zipped back into the conservatory. 

And then they were alone. And it was quiet.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Daphne finally asked.

“Nope,” Ricky replied way too merrily. “I’ve just gotten so good at pretending otherwise that at this point it’s just easier. Next question please.” 

“Are you mad?” 

“Furious, but not at you. Or Fred, Velma, Shaggy, or Scooby. Or even the Mystery Skulls. It’s fine though. I’ve been angry for over 20 years. Why stop now?” He sighed, resting his chin on his palm.

“So… you’re mad at Professor Pericles?” 

“You’re surprised that I’m mad at Professor Pericles?” 

“Not really. Out of everyone angry with Professor Pericles, you definitely have the most reason to. I was actually fishing for whether or not you’re mad at Mystery.” 

“Did he put you up to this?” 

“He wants to talk to you, but gets why you’d be upset with him. So he asked one of us to talk to you first on his behalf. He’s worried about you. But… he’s not the only one worried. I’d be checking on you even if he didn’t.”

“Well… thanks.” 

“So are you mad at him?”

“No. Maybe…? No. Just-” He scoffed with frustration. She’s going to think I’m so fucking stupid, he thought. 

“He reminds me of Professor Pericles.” 

“Oh,” said Daphne. “So… you’re upset because he reminds you of Pericles? And you hate Pericles?” 

“Not exaaactly. But- Kind of? Will you judge me if I tell you?” 

“I don’t know,” Daphne said. “I think that the big problem between us- that is, between you and my friends and I, is that we haven’t talked. It’s been over a year since you started sending us your clues. But we never said anything. And things have gotten so much better in just a day because we finally actually said something. So… whatever you have to say, I want things to keep getting better. So I’m listening.” 

Ricky sighed, “Thanks Daphne. So… I guess I’ll say something, then.” He looked up at the starry indigo sky, bouncing one knee, composing his thoughts before he began. “Mystery has reminded me of Pericles from pretty much the moment I met him. But… in all of the best ways. He’s… wise, patient, supportive, and just- always seems to know exactly what to say. In other words, he reminds me of the Pericles I used to think I knew.”

“Oh. So… like the way he was when you were a kid?” 

“Yeah. But… without all of the bullshit that I know I should have recognized as red flags. And now that I know what he is, it makes sense as to why he reminds me of Pericles. Only now, I also see all of the worst ways he reminds me of Pericles.”

“Liiike…?”

“First off: his age. I told you all earlier today how much older than the rest of us Professor Pericles was. But Mystery? From my limited knowledge of kitsune, he is hundreds of years old, Daphne. Do you have any idea what the implications of that are? How much he’s seen and done? The skills he’s perfected? The things he’s had time to learn and experience? He’s so much smarter, wiser, and more powerful than any of us. I didn’t know to be afraid of that when I was a kid. But I do now… it’s scary.” 

“I… can definitely get that,” Daphne shuddered. 

“And beyond that,” Ricky said, “A kitsune is a trickster spirit, Daphne. By definition. How am I to know what’s real when it comes to him?” 

“I get it. Pericles revealed that he’d been using you all along, and he chose the treasure over you. So now you don’t know if you can trust Mystery.” 

“In a nutshell… basically.” 

“Well… Mystery decided to show you his real self without betraying you first. He’s trying to be honest. That says a lot, doesn't it?” 

“Uuugh, and I know that, but just- it was all so overwhelming, learning all of that. All those thoughts at once. So of course it only occurred to me after I stormed out. Which is why I haven’t come back in… because I know how stupid I was.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid.” 

Ricky jumped out of his skin and whirled around. “Chhheese and crackers, Fred! Make some noise when you move! You gave me a heart attack! Wait a minute- how long have you all been standing there?” 

All four other members of Mystery Incorporated were standing behind them. 

“Long enough,” Velma said. “And Fred’s right: it’s not stupid. Those are perfectly valid concerns to have, all things considered.” 

Scooby padded over and sat beside him. “So uh… what are you going to do?” He asked. 

Ricky sighed, reaching over to give the dog a pat. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know how I feel about all this or if I trust him, so I really don’t know what I should do next. Or how I’m going to show my face indoors again.” 

“Like if it helps man, like Mystery is just as stressed about what he’s going to say to you,” said Shaggy. 

“Really? Why?” 

“He feels really bad about turning into a bird. Something about ‘his mischievous side came out too much’,” said Fred. 

“No shit,” Velma added under her breath.

“That’s probably true,” Ricky shrugged. 

“So… it’s dark out. And it’s getting colder. Ready to go back in?” Daphne asked. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Ricky sighed. 

Walking back into the conservatory, Ricky realized that he’d missed just how grand it was. The sun had gone to bed and where one world was now sleeping, another was waking up. And the house of the dead was as alive as ever. Three chandeliers in the same style as the room’s metal frame hung from the ceiling, sconces attached to the walls and every other vertical frame held floating mystical lights, and the ghost fish in the koi pond and the artificial brook shimmered so bright it was as if the water itself was aglow. 

Seeing the lights shining through the dark, it made Ricky wonder how he’d ever failed to see the magic. 

“You okay?” 

Ricky jumped, looked around for the source of the voice, then looked up.

“Okay. Lewis, I’m still getting used to the whole ‘ghost’ thing as it is, but you doing that is not helping.” 

“... Sorry,” the ghost apologized, floating back down to eye-level in his true form. “Seriously though, is everything good?” 

“No, but… it never was. As for us though, yeah. We’re good. Mystery though… ehhh… I need to talk to him.”

“He figured as much,” Lewis sighed. “This way, he’s waiting for you.” 

Vivi spared Ricky an encouraging smile before leading Mystery Inc. back into the manor. And Ricky followed Lewis deeper into the conservatory. Wordlessly, the ghost pointed down a lit, dense green path, where ahead on an unseen radio, a song was quietly playing. He patted Ricky on the shoulder, then disappeared into thin air. 

Ricky gulped, and stepped into the brush. 

“Tears that I cried... I've been hol-din’ on…”

He came to realize after a few steps that he was walking into a sort of indoor natural area, complete with big, twisting Japanese maples and cherry trees. 

“… I've been hold-in’ on~…”

Fallen crimson leaves and pink petals covered the ground atop trodden mossy cobblestones like a multicolored carpet. 

“… I've been hol-din’ ooo-on~…”

Finally, he moved a large fern leaf out of the way, and before him was a hidden oasis within the conservatory - a small clearing among the trees and bushes, at the center of which was a rather curious bonsai tree. 

“I~ won't let them take you away from me! My love~”

Notably, the tree was dead. Or at least very close to it. With a couple of rather pitiful orange petals hanging limply on the edge of each branch that may very well have once been pink. And the bark- Ricky may have been mistaken but he could have sworn it was green. 

“I'll be your protection, and I'll fight for you endlessly!”

And yet in spite of this, the pitiful plant was the most revered thing Ricky had seen in the whole conservatory. It was planted directly into the ground with the richest, darkest soil and a ring of pink, orange, and white stones lovingly placed around it. And there were three giant pink necklaces placed around it with candles, burning incense, and Japanese blessings inscribed upon paper. 

“I~ won't let them take you away from me!"

"(Won’t let them take youu!)”

Ricky tilted his head, curious. 

“I'll be your protection, and I'll fight for you endlessly!”

But where was- 

“I worried you wouldn’t come.” 

Ricky jumped and inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Oooookay then. This is just going to be a regular thing now? You people talking out of nowhere and scaring me out of my skin?” Ricky asked, looking up at the source of the voice. 

Mystery was draped like a leopard across a large, thick tree branch. His head rested upon his crossed paws and his seven tails hung down, swaying gracefully yet playfully to and fro. 

As he stood, the kitsune laughed in a way that was not quite human; animal-like, high-pitched and a little silly, like a hyena- no. Like a fox. Then he bounded down to a lower branch and bounced to the ground to stand beside Ricky.

“Apologies. It’s been a while since I last revealed my true form to a human,” Mystery said with a dip of his head. “I suppose I need to get used to ‘easing people into it’ again. My manners aside… I really am glad you came.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“You are upset with me,” the creature said sadly, ears drooping. “If you had wished to avoid me for a while, I would have understood.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ricky sighed, rubbing his temples. “Yes - I’m surprised. But I understand why you kept this from us. Really, it’s me. Not you.”

“Still. I should have been more mindful of your… experiences.” 

“If you’re referring to you turning into a bird, yeah - that might have been crossing a line,” Ricky grumbled. 

“Believe it or not, I do realize how much I have in common with Pericles,” The kitsune growled, baring his teeth. “And I hate it. But let me assure you… my hatred for him runs deep. And I’ll die before I make the same mistake he did.” 

And there it was again - that intuition. Just like Pericles. Or perhaps he’d just been alive long enough that he could guess. Dealing with basically immortal beings was kind of a new thing to Ricky.

“What mistake?” Ricky asked, clearing his throat.

“Isn’t it obvious? You. Or rather - what he did to you. And your friends.” 

“No offense, Mystery. But…” It then occurred to Ricky that Mystery may find what he was about to say extremely offensive. 

“But?” 

“In my miiiind~

“Nothing.” 

“I thought it was just an illusion.”

“Do not be concerned with my feelings,”

“I wished for something like thiiis,”

“-Whatever you have to say, I am ready and willing to talk about it.” 

“Now I just can’t run.”

Ricky sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just- you’re a kitsune, Mystery."

“I~ won't let them take you away from me! My love~”

"I’m not… deeply familiar with Japanese mythology, but I know enough to know that your kind are tricksters. Agents of chaos. I’m probably being ignorant,” he apologized, running a hand through his hair.

“I'll be your protection, and I'll fight for you endlessly!”

“How am I to know which of the stories are true? But from what do I know, I guess, shouldn’t you sort of… respect what he did?” Ricky asked, hugging himself. 

“I~ won't let them take you away from me!"

"(Won’t let them take youu!)”

“I mean to me (and to most people really) it was horrible. But at the end of the day, he took what he needed from his pawns, used them up, took a calculated risk, and got what he wanted. I was a naive, trusting, meddling, stupid kid.”

“I'll be your protection, and I'll fight for you endlessly!”

“I mean, heh- if you look at it from a tactician’s standpoint, I was almost asking to get hurt-”

“DO NOT BE SO HARD ON YOURSELF!” 

The kitsune surged forward so fast it made Ricky stumble back and fall upon the soft moss. 

“I~ won't let them take you away from me! My love~”

The change had been jarringly abrupt. When speaking of Mystery’s own kind in such a way, the kitsune had been fine. But the moment Ricky had started talking about himself, an animalistic sort of rage had crept in. And now, Mystery stood before Ricky as every bit the beast he was. Tails lashing, hackles raised, eyes glowing red, ears flat against his skull, teeth bared inches in front of Ricky’s face. 

“Do not be ashamed that your fate was put into the talons of a FOOL, Ricky Owens!” The kitsune barked.

“I'll be your protection, and I'll fight for you endlessly!”

“HE was supposed to look after you. You were a CHILD, and the one who should have protected you fffailed!"

“I~ won't let them take you away from me!”

“He grew so distracted by something as frivolously human as GOLD that he failed to see the value in what he already had!”

As Mystery got the words out, the fur laid flat on his back and his eyes ceased their glow. 

“I'll be your protection, and I'll fight for you endlessly!”

“I will not make the same mistake, boy. Unlike him, as your elder I see fit to look after you. Upon my tails, I swear it.” 

Mystery darted back, pacing agitated to and fro between the walls of fauna. 

And as the music came to an end, Ricky took deep breaths to slow the racing of his heart, processing what had been said. 

I see fit to look after you…

“You and your friends were more precious than any treasure,” Mystery said, his voice losing that deep echo as he calmed down. “You and Cassidy still are. He is the one who should be ashamed for failing to see that.” 

There was a moment of tense silence when Mystery was done talking, broken only by the babbling of the brook. Ricky opened and closed his mouth fruitlessly searching for words. “I- um- thank you?” 

“I need you to say it, Ricky.” 

“Say what?” 

“You were a child.” 

Ricky scoffed, “I was a kid yeah, but I was seventeen. Hardly-”

“A child,” The Kitsune repeated, eyes flashing. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Ricky,” he said with forced calmness, “I think we can both agree that… Fred, Daphne, Velma, and Shaggy are children.”

“Of course. What’s that got to do with-” 

“Shaggy is the second-oldest, and he only recently turned seventeen,” Mystery said pointedly, pausing to let that sink in. “They are children. And they are no older than you were. So. You were…” 

“... a child,” Ricky admitted quietly. 

“You were a good kid, Ricky.” 

“I- I was a g-good kid…” Damn it, why was his throat closing? 

“-And he took advantage of that.”

He knew all of this already! So why were his eyes filling with- “... and he took advantage of that.” 

They didn’t speak for several minutes. To his credit, Ricky didn’t sob. But he did cry, tears falling silently with the occasional gasp, shudder, or sniffle. Mystery just laid there and let Ricky get through it, leaning against the kitsune’s large shoulder. And when there was a sizable wet spot in Mystery’s white fur, Ricky sniffed and moved away, trying to get ahold of himself. “S-sorry,” He croaked, hoarse from the effort of holding his sobs in. “Heh, I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” He chuckled, trying to laugh it off.

“That’s because there is nothing wrong with you,” the kitsune said gently, pulling Ricky back in and enveloping him in his warm, soft tails. “I learned a rather fun fact about you humans recently,” he said, licking the tears from one of Ricky’s cheeks. “Did you know… that human beings have three different kinds of tears? Basal tears form the wet coating of your eye and reflex tears flush things out. Like say, having a bug fly into your eye.” And he swatted Ricky playfully in the face with one of his tails. 

“Hey…” Ricky said in mock-warning, rubbing his watering eyes.

The kitsune chuckled. “And then… There are tears of emotion. That’s what these are,” Mystery said, collecting a tear from Ricky’s cheek with the tip of one long claw. “These are the ones I find interesting. You see, aside from magical creatures, human beings are the only species on Earth who burst into tears when they’re in pain. Whether that pain be external or in here,” he said, gesturing to Ricky’s heart with his nose. “But there’s more than just water in these tears. They purposefully have proteins in them that make them fall slower, dry slower, and stick to your face.”

“What’s your point?” 

“That these tears were never meant to be hidden. When you cry - when these tears fall… they were meant to be seen. Humans are such social creatures. Don’t you see? You evolved this way because you were never meant to carry your burdens alone.” 

“How would you know?” Ricky grumbled bitterly, resting his forehead on his knees. “If only humans have them, then how many tears have you shed?”

“I have cried a thousand lifetimes worth,” the kitsune murmured. “Descendants of the Annunaki have the gift of humanity. Which means that just like humans… we are corruptible. But we are capable of growth and change at all stages of our lives as well.” 

“So what’s your point? That Pericles can cry too? That I should try to change him?” 

“No.” The kitsune snarled. “If a miracle happens and he changes his stars, it shall be his own doing. You are not responsible for fixing Professor Pericles, nor do I think anyone could. The point I was trying to make… was actually about myself. You see- there is a reason I have such a deep hatred for that bird. Why I am so disgusted and angry at what he has done. It’s because-” And reluctantly he admitted, “In another life… I may have been the same. And you would have been right about me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I meant what I said before. I wasn’t always a good boy, Ricky. In fact, there was a time when I was just as bad as Professor Pericles. Probably worse, even.” 

Ricky gulped. “Oh yeah? Is that so?” 

“It is so,” the kitsune said sadly. 

“Then… if you want me to trust you, then why would you tell me that?” 

“That is a rather curious thing to do, isn’t it?” The kitsune chuckled. “It’s certainly contradictory to my goal. Hardly the tactical thing to do. I suppose that it is because most of the relationships I’ve built throughout my life have been founded upon lies - at least at first. And from now on I wish to begin with honesty when I can. So, before you and the kids, I wish to lay my sins bare.” 

“Is this… why you seemed so keen to give me a chance?” Ricky asked. “Because you also changed your ways once?” 

“Partly,” the kitsune shrugged. “But even at your worst Ricky Owens, I have seen evil. And you’re not it.” 

“Then, if I may ask… what changed? For you, I mean?” 

“Mushi,” Mystery said sadly yet fondly. “But that is a long story, and one I wish to repeat only once. And as it happens, this place is a rather good place to begin. Come. There’s someone I would like you to meet.”

The kitsune stood and walked over to the dead bonsai in the center of the oasis. Ricky wiped his eyes on his sleeve and crawled over a few feet on his hands and knees to watch. 

“I assume you noticed this when you walked in,” Mystery said. 

“Yeah,” Ricky gulped to clear his throat. “What is the deal with that tree? It’s dead, isn’t it?” 

“Seemingly. Apparently… Probably. But hopefully not completely.” 

And then the kitsune dug with one massive paw around the base of the tree, disturbing as little as possible. And when he had uncovered the roots, he beckoned Ricky over with a gesture of paw and tail. “Come, and look upon a consequence of my past.” 

Crouching, Ricky came forward and was so surprised by what he saw that he recoiled. 

Mystery hadn’t uncovered the tree’s roots. Rather, the tree was attached to the top of a wooden head. And his digging had uncovered a sad, dead face with empty, soulless eye sockets and tear-mark cracks down each side. 

“What is that?” Ricky asked, wrinkling his nose. 

“This is my daughter,” Mystery replied sadly, unbothered by Ricky’s reaction. “Her name was Shiomori.”  

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Nearing 10:00 at night was not the most opportune time the plane could have touched down on California soil. And it was nearly 11 by the time she left the airport.

But as antsy as she was to rush, stealth - not speed - was the goal, here. If Professor Pericles knew she was coming- if he even realized she was alive, then it would cost her a huge advantage that he’d already proven could cost her life. 

And if she could help it, Cassidy Williams would like to go a lifetime without ever coming that close to dying again. 

Weirdly enough, it wasn’t all bad. In a lot of ways Angel was grateful for the experience. It had reminded her just how much she loved being not-dead. More importantly than the little things though… seeing her reflection in the reaper’s scythe had rather annoyingly put some things in perspective for Cassidy that she’d been denying hard for over fifteen years. 

Namely: She was in love with Ricky Owens. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, she was in love with Ricky Owens. 

She used to ask herself why. She used to try to convince herself that she didn’t love him anymore. That the asshole who’d put her heart through the ringer wasn’t the same person as the adorable, awkward boy she’d fallen for. She used to try reasoning with herself that she could move on if she just forced herself to start over with someone else, no matter how many dates ended and relationships failed because no matter how nice they were they just were. Not. Him. 

... Why did she only stop doing that the moment she realized she had to die? 

There would have been a sort of purpose to Angel’s death: giving up her life to save those wonderful, stupid, meddling kids of hers. But as the Kriegstaffebots closed in and the clock neared zero, one regret stabbed at her heart like a thorn. 

Ricky. 

It’s true what they say. About your life flashing before your eyes. Most of Cassidy’s life had come to her in flashes of color and memory. But he struck her mind like a bullet train, and in what would have been- should have been her final moments, she fell in love with him and had her heart broken into a thousand little pieces all over again. 

Except… those weren’t her final moments. 

Cassidy still wasn’t exactly sure how she’d survived. Everything after Moby disappearing under the waves got kind of blurry and she couldn’t string together even a semblance of how she’d gotten from point A to point B. What she did know was that for all intents and purposes, she should be dead. It honestly didn’t make a lick of sense that she wasn’t. Cassidy still didn’t have an explanation for it. 

Neither had the Mystery Skulls, before she had sent them to Crystal Cove. She would have come with them, but the attempt on her life had left her battered and bruised and with a badly dislocated shoulder. Even after popping it back into place it had taken weeks for the swelling to go down. In her condition at the time she would have just been a burden. 

But that was a mystery Cassidy wasn’t the slightest bit worried about at the moment. She was all healed up now and all that mattered was that Professor Pericles had tried to kill her, but she’d survived and now she was back in California and on her way to kick some tail! Woo-hoo baby!

…And she was in love with Mr. E. 

There was that, too. 

Cassidy didn’t know why that seemed so damn important, but no matter how hard she tried to think about the kids, the planispheric disk, the Mystery Skulls, or about Pericles, Brad, and Judy, all she could seem to think about was her last phone call with Vivi. 

Ricky’s in trouble. 

Those words kept ringing through her ears on loop and she hadn’t been able to relax since she’d heard them. 

Cassidy had thought once, that if there was one person whom Pericles might have a soft spot for, who was off-limits and may actually be safe with him, it would be Ricky. 

Wow, she’d been naive. But then again, Pericles loved to surpass her expectations of how rotten he was. If she had a nickel for every time he’d proven her wrong, she’d be able to rebuild K-Ghoul. 

Angel wished that Vivi had just come out and told her whatever-the-hell was going on. But Vivi had given her an abbreviated, vague, and clearly cushioned version in an attempt to keep her from worrying. And in doing so had done just the opposite, because in a haze of ambiguity, it seemed like now all Angel could do was worry. 

He wasn’t hurt. He was safe. Vivi had said that, right? Nope. She’d said he was sort of safe, and that he was kind of not hurt. 

Cassidy wanted to scream. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!

If he wasn’t hurt, then why couldn’t she get visions of every possible way he could be hurt out of her head? Was he in the hospital? Had he been shot? Poisoned? In an accident? God, there were any number of things that feathery lunatic could have done to him. 

And it was all so frustrating because even though she loved him so much she thought her heart might cave in from the weight of it, Mr. E had made it abundantly clear that he didn't love her anymore. Not to mention Angel wasn’t sure whether he had anything to do with her assassination attempts. Had her Ricky… really tried to kill her? She just couldn’t see it. Or maybe she just hoped not so much that it was blinding her. Still, the factory hadn’t been Destroido property.

So maybe Ricky hadn’t had anything to do with it. 

Both Pericles and the kids thought she was dead, now. 

Did Ricky think so too?

Maybe he had been… sad to learn of her death. 

Maybe he didn’t even know. 

Maybe he was even looking for her. 

She was so fucking scared of the answer to those questions. And she was so fucking angry that if Ricky’s stupid, handsome, scowling face was in front of her right now, she didn’t know if she’d tackle him in a hug, kiss him, or smack the shit outta him. 

Whatever the truth was, and whatever was happening back in Crystal Cove, Ricky wasn’t with their old group anymore. He was with the Mystery Skulls and the new Mystery Incorporated.

The question was… what had happened to drive him there? It would have taken something big to snap Ricky out of his codependency. And it scared her to imagine what that could have been. 

She wouldn’t be so naive as to wonder (or hope) if it had happened over her. 

But on the other hand, she didn’t know what she’d do if it had happened because Pericles had… hurt Ricky in some way. 

Wait- no. That isn’t true, Angel realized as she flung a leg over her new motorcycle - courtesy of Kingsmen Mechanics. It didn’t matter if Ricky didn’t love her. If Pericles had harmed so much as a single hair on Ricky’s head, she was going to pluck, baste, and boil that bird alive. 

As for uh… them, Cassidy really didn’t know what she was going to say to Ricky, but she supposed it largely depended on what he had to say to her. And she had a whole night to figure out the possibilities. 

But as uncertain as the road ahead was, as she revved up her engine there was one thing Cassidy Williams knew for sure. 

She loved Ricky Owens. She was done denying it or fighting it. And even though he’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t love her back, (and shit, did that hurt) Angel knew her heart wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to him. 

This time, she was going to protect him.

She would fight for him. For them. Endlessly.

Hehehehe. At LAST, I am soon to arrive at the point where I can ACTUALLY WRITE RICKIDY! 😍✍️ Oooh, the chapter song for this one turned out to be so much more meaningful and on-the-nose than I thought it was! I've never written alongside music before but now I see why people do it. Mystery and Ricky's conversation flowed so well because it was written in time with the song. Seriously, in the future I'm going to make an entire post about my song choice for Endlessly, because there are some things about it that I can't say without spoiling parts of my master plan. So, this chapter turned out to be mostly about Mystery, which is good because as a character I kind of felt like I haven't done as much with him as I could at this point, so finally it's starting to hint at how important to this story he's going to be. Makes sense tho that he'd make his true debut late - what sort of sneaky trickster spirit would he be otherwise? Lol Speaking of sneaky, Shiomori managed to burrow her way in here. Tbh I wasn't expecting that. She wasn't on the original guest list for this fic but now that I've thought of how to include her, I can't NOT do it. I think Mystery must have invited her. She didn't exactly RSVP but ya know what? Happy to have her. Will she have a major role in the fic? Or is she a tool used to tell Mystery's backstory and make references to the events of the msa music videos? Only time will tell. Who knows what my brain will be doing by the time I get to that point? I sure don't. And lastly of course, her return is long overdue but Angel, the QUEEN 👑, has made her debut!!! I’ve been SO EXCITED to write that part it’s not even funny. And I’ve had the vision of what’ll happen next time we see her in my head since some of the earliest imaginings of this fic. GOD, I cannot WAIT to show it to you!!! 🤩

I would like to give a huge thank you to @lesbian-duck-lord for helping me out with this chapter. I got super stuck on how the conversation at the beginning went and I swear the writer's block looked like the walls from Attack on Titan. But talking to that magnificent person was a HUGE help. Seriously they are so good at characterization. Busted a hole in that wall like the colossal titan. (Yes my brain works in references. Why do you think I write crossovers so much?!) And with this shout out, now you're tagged in this post. So you'll know immediately that Chapter 16 is out!!! Thanks again, Duck!

I would also like to take this moment to congratulate whoever the like, ONE person was who guessed the next chapter song correctly on my recent poll. Because only like two people voted for it, and the other one was me. (I had to put a vote down in order to see the votes as they came in.)

22% of you thought the next song would be Fake (which IS a great song, and I DO have a very specific plan for that one), and Hellbent, Every Note, and Freaking Out tied for second place. Funnily enough, I do also have plans for both Hellbent and Every Note. And joke's on you - I already used Freaking Out! You fell right into my trap! Ha!

I jest of course. It actually rather delights me that only one of you guessed right. How I do love hitting you all with a curveball. 😏

Chapters 1-15 of One of Us are presently posted on Archive of Our Own.

Chapter 16 should make it to Ao3 sometime in the next two days or so. Probably tomorrow tho. Because I'm impatient.

[elliepassmore]

A Dark and Drowning Tide review

5/5 stars Recommended if you like: dark academia, light fantasy, Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia, rivals to lovers

Big thanks to Netgalley, Del Rey, and the author for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!

I really liked the vibe of this book, especially once the characters are all introduced. It definitely gave me the feel of setting up a murder mystery game/party, which I enjoyed. We know that someone is a murderer, and so we're side-eyeing everyone except our narrator, Lorelei, from the get-go. Later on, the book takes on Emily Wilde vibes, which I also love and I enjoy the rather obsessive nature of the various expedition members.

The setting for this book is a fantasized Germany (or perhaps Austria, but since the language is German and the history is vaguely German, I'm going with that) shortly after unification. The characters are in the capital city for the first handful of chapters, and you definitely get that cobblestone-city feel while there. After the first couple of chapters, the characters are on the expedition and are in a variety of places and I enjoyed getting to see the different elements of culture.

In terms of culture, while all the characters are Brunnisch, the majority of them come from different ducal states, which previous to unification were their own countries (I think?), and so have their own cultural nuances that we get to see through the characters. Lorelei is from Brunnestaad's capital city, Ruhigberg, though she grew up, and still frequently visits, in the city's Yevanverte, or the quarter for Yevanis (i.e., fantasy Jews) and thus has a mix of Brunnisch and Yevani culture. Similarly, her mentor, Ziegler, was also Brunnisch but lived most of her life in Javenor before being called back to her birth country, and so she brings a blend of cultures to the table as well.

Lorelei is prickly but pragmatic, and she has something to prove. She keeps pretty much everyone at a distance and tries to use logic and reasoning to guide her through life. She does this in part because it makes the most sense and is easiest for her, but also in part because that means things are explainable, even when they feel as though they are not. I liked how focused Lorelei could be on her work and how that dedication also lends itself to a strong sense of loyalty toward the people she does decide to let in. On top of that, Lorelei also has somewhat of a chip on her shoulder, though admittedly it's founded in experience and reason.

Sylvia, on the other hand, is pretty much the exact opposite and is bright and bubbly and almost never unhappy, at least not for long. She is also wildly determined, but in a more spontaneous, empathetic way, and she seems to make friends with everyone, and everything, she meets. I can definitely see why Sylvia might be annoying, but I enjoyed the lightness she brought to the book and I think she balances out Lorelei's outlook and way of doing things well. Being both nobility and acceptably Brunnisch, Sylvia does have some naivete to her about how things work for other people, but it's also clear she's willing to learn and that she does care for the common folk.

Lorelei and Sylvia are rivals for most of the book, though their relationship does start trending toward being friendlier and more understanding. It's a situation where they take two steps forward and then Lorelei takes a step or two back. I think their dynamic works pretty well and when they're working in conjunction with one another, they're very adept at reaching their goals. I've heard Daphne Press picked this book up for UK publication in a two-book deal, so I'm wondering if that means we'll get a sequel, which, if so, I really want to see Sylvia and Lorelei on a new expedition now that they're both on the same page (mostly).

As mentioned, I liked the murder mystery vibe and trying to figure out who did it. Lorelei tries to keep her investigation on the down low, so there is a weird gap where she immediately tries to figure it out, then gets side-tracked with expedition stuff, and then finally goes back to the murder. At the beginning I had a suspicion on who it was, then revised my guess to someone else, then had to revise it again about 50-60% of the way through, and I have to say I was surprised at who it turned out to be. I will say though that I'm not sure we ever get a satisfactory answer to who got the alpdrücke involved.

Overall I enjoyed this story and think it's a bit like a dark academia, sapphic Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia. I definitely recommend it if you're looking for a blend of light fantasy adventure and a mystery.

[charmixpower]

Winx Children headcannons?

I'm writing this in my notes app because I lost the answer to this ask >:(!!!! Multiple paragraphs!!!! Gone!!!

I don't have any fan kids Oc's but I do have some ideas about kids (written with next gen au's in mind, so for the purposes of this response, they all want kids)

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🐉Bloom: I think Bloom was very happy as an only child, Mike and Vanessa supremacy, and would probably want to just remake her childhood for her children. She has thought a lot about two kids however, bc she loves Daphne and likes the idea of her kid having a sibling bc Daphne. She's not completely set on anything

🤴Sky: he'd definitely want two kids. Sky was a very lonely and unhappy child who's parents were distant and cold, especially with Sky being Royal and needing to keep up appreances? Yeah he was isolated as a kid. He really doesn't want his kids to grow up having no one around they can talk freely too, so two kids. Anymore sounds nerve wracking tho

👑Skloom: they end up having two out of worry that being the crown heir to the Domino throne, with connections to Eraylon, would be very isolating in a "everyone wants to use me" kind of way. One of their kids has to be the witch/fairy of the dragon fire, and the other one is probably non-magical/a specialist

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🌘Stella: She wants a big family. Like, none of these kids will ever be fucking alone ever, levels of big. She grew up incredibly lonely and emotionally neglected and Chimera being adopted into her family is the best familial thing that has ever happened to her. Chimera is the only member of her family she's close with, and Stella refuses to deprive her future children of having siblings

🛡️Brandon: Brandon comes off as a family man to me. Just observe how he manages all of his idiots, this man is an amazing babysitter. I think he'd want multiple kids just bc he likes kids, it's not very deep lol

✨Brella: Stella will at least have four kids (her family is slightly larger than Flora's). Many powers ideas; the witch/fairy of the second Sun of Solaria/shining Sun, the witch/fairy of celestial lights, the witch fairy of colors, the witch/fairy of eclipses, and the witch/fairy of the night. Of course they'd have non-magical kids as well

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💐Flora: she's motherly, she loves kids, she comes from a big family (cannon is wrong, Flora has multiple siblings. It's the vibes, can't explain). Local woman wants multiple kids, and that's it

🖋️Helia: has no preference, has no opnion. He'd be perfectly happy childless, as he'd be perfectly happy with a big family. He likes kids, but also likes his space and freedom. He has no stance

🧙‍♀️Mirta: I think she'd want to err on the smaller side, simply because she's anxious as fuck and worried she'd be unable to handle that many kids. But if the kids are spaced out enough her worries would be completely assuaged

🏞️Florelia/Mirora: Flora will always end up with least three kids. Helia is a transman and Mirta is a woman, so I don't think bio kids are in the cards here. Like theoretically with shape shifting and other types of magic it could be possible but I'm imagining that's still a new frontier and Flora wouldn't want to take the risk, especially when she can just adopt. Especially because she (and the rest of her siblings) are adopted. The magical core of a planet affects the way a child's magical core will develop (see me and @/mu5a making headcanons based on eachothers headcanons based on—) so any fairy they happen to adopt will have nature powers if they're from Lymphea. Most of the kids would likely be nonmagical (as magical children are rare) but Flora/Mirta might be able to sense magical children and adopt them so they can be raised in a family that can help them deal with their growing in powers. Ideas include; the fairy/witch of flowers, the fairy/witch of mushrooms, the fairy/witch of growth/life. Ya know. Nature stuff. Lympha

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🧑‍💻Tenca: if Tecna is going to have a child, she is going to have exactly one. Multiple children is stressful and time consuming, and pregnancy is completely awful. She's adopting one child, her little data byte, and not dealing with all that horrible crimes to her body thank you

🔫Timmy: he wants kids but he doesn't exactly know how many he wants. He comes from a big family so he tends to think on the bigger side but he'd be worried about being overwhelmed

📑Tecmy: They have one child. I'm thinking like; the fairy/witch of information/data (which was what Tecna's magic would of been if it was allowed to develop naturally), the fairy/witch of electricity, or the fairy/witch precision

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🎧Musa: She had a very happy and good childhood right up until her mother died, then she became incredibly lonely as a child, so I think she'd just concentrate all of her emotional energy into one child and giving them all the love she can muster, like her mom did for her. She wouldn't actually mind having more than one child at all, it's just that one is what she's use to so she's more comfortable with the idea

⚔️Riven: I also think he'd want just one kid. Most of his childhood problems stemmed from having parents that didn't give a shit about him, so having one kid to focus on seems like the obvious choice to him. Tho he is a bit worried about having kids, and he and Musa take a lot of parenting classes before he feels comfortable having them. He's always wanted a family, he's also eternally worried he will fuck it up. (He secretly wants more than one, Riven I think would of been family oriented if he had a family he could orient himself around, but hes definitely worried about not being able to handle it. One child would be easier to deal with, so one child is the more senseical choice)

🎙️Rivusa: I think they'd have one fairy child and one witch child in non identical twins. (Yes, I am implying they planned for one kid and ended up with twins) Ideas include; the fairy/witch of waves, the fairy/witch of emotions, or the fairy witch of performance. I like performance and emotions the best, based on that one line form the movie about music hearing the songs in people's hearts and how music often comes with preforming...these kids would be a nightmare to deal with, not for Rivusa who raised them, but like everyone else

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🌊Aisha: I think Aisha definitely wants a family but doesn't exactly know what she wants. I think she'd settle on one kid however, she was one of two and that really didn't do her any good growing up repressed and lonely. Growing up lonely and depressed was more of a consequence of her parents, so she wants to put all her enegry into one kid

⚕️Nabu: much like Aisha he doesn't have a strong opinion. He tends to think a small number like 2ish, because he grew up quite lonely but he isn't settled till they start taking about it and they both settle on one

🤽Naisha (???) (Do they have a ship name?): okay my favorite idea is the fairy of refraction, which I think perfectly mixes Aisha and Nabu's fairy powers, but I have more ideas. The fairy/witch of mist, the fairy/witch mirage, or the fairy/witch of pressure (like you go deeper in the ocean more pressure)

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[camillasgirl]

‘I could fill a book with my cooking disasters’ - My life in food by HRH The Duchess of Cornwall

I grew up in a very happy home, with good food at its heart. I still just about remember rationing, but we grew everything from tomatoes and melons to peas, beans, carrots and new potatoes. One of my earliest memories is podding those peas and beans with my mother, an accomplished cook.

We always had to finish what was on our plate before we ate pudding. That wasn’t such a problem when it was rice pudding as I hated the stuff.

At my first school, Dumbrells in Ditchling, East Sussex, the food was, surprisingly, excellent. Lots of steamed puddings and we were allowed to help the cook once a week in getting lunch ready. I still dream of their potato and cheese cake.

Every year, we went on holiday to the island of Ischia, just off Naples. There were endless lunches of vitello al limone [veal escalope with lemon], fried zucchini, lots of fresh fish and pasta. It instilled a lifelong passion for Italian food.

On Friday nights, at home, we were allowed to choose our dinner. I always went for Findus frozen chicken pie, much to my mother’s despair. Food at my grandmother’s house was more formal French, which was very much the smart thing in those days. What I remembered most there, though, was the brown bread ice cream.

When it came to restaurants, there wasn’t as much choice in 60s London as there is now. But at the time, we didn’t know any better. I always preferred the food at home anyway. But I remember how excited I was when I first ate prawn and avocado, at Alexander’s in Chelsea. The combination seemed impossibly exotic. I’d eaten avocados at home and hated them at first. But I now eat them most days. Daphne’s was another favourite, along with La Poule au Pot in Pimlico, which is still about. Best of all was The Causerie at Claridge’s, where there was a great round table with the most incredible buffet. Everyone dressed up and it seemed very glamorous.

I always cooked for the children growing up, and they were good eaters, but I was never the most adventurous of cooks. I was sent on a cooking course in Sussex when I was young but, really, I learnt from my mother. I’ve never followed a recipe in my life.

My cooking is about good ingredients. Nothing too mucked about, or fussy or fiddly. Lots of tarragon chicken, scrambled eggs and bacon, and chicken casserole. There were always roasts on Sunday – pork and lamb chops, roast chicken. The children ate a lot of cheese on toast. We had a kitchen garden and lots of chickens, for the eggs, so we ate seasonally before it became en vogue. Because that’s just what you did in the country back then. We used Love & Sons, the butchers, in Chippenham, Wiltshire. There was also a very good fishmonger but that’s long gone, which is sad. Britain has so much incredible produce, and our farmers do a magnificent job. We should always support them.

When Sainsbury’s opened in Chippenham at the start of the 80s, it was rather exciting. So much choice. We ate a lot of chicken kievs.

I could fill a book with all my cooking disasters. I’m not a natural baker, to say the least. As for baked potatoes… many a poor, incinerated specimen has been found in the bottom of the Aga, put in, then forgotten about.

I do still cook for myself when at home. Simple things like fish en papillote with butter and herbs. And vegetables from the garden: kale, purple sprouting broccoli, carrots, courgettes, and lots of peas and beans because they freeze so well. I love the vegetable garden, and summer in particular. I’m very proud of my white peaches. My husband is an excellent gardener, and we’re quite competitive about our fruit and vegetables.

These days, restaurants are a way to see my children. They pick the restaurants, I pay the bill. I don’t like too much noise but we tend to go to the same places.

One of my favourite foods is baked beans on toast. Always Heinz. And freshly cooked fish and chips, wrapped in paper. That smell. You cannot beat proper fish and chips.I can’t bear peppers, raw or cooked. I’m not a fan of offal either, aside from very good liver. And I avoid chilli and garlic too, unlike my son.My last supper would probably involve my own asparagus, with lots of butter. Angela Hartnett’s risotto. I love her cooking. Dover sole meunière, with ratte potatoes and fresh broad beans and peas from the garden. Some bitter chocolate ice cream. Plus strawberries and raspberries and lots of clotted cream. Along with a really good glass of red claret. And, seeing it’s my last supper, probably two.

[arbitraryreveries]

My Ranking of the Bridgerton NOVELS

From someone who read all but the last two. I can't read the last two yet. But this is the first six.

The Official Reading Order Is:

The Duke & I

The Viscount Who Loved Me

An Offer from a Gentleman

Romancing Mr. Bridgerton

To Sir Phillip, With Love

When He Was Wicked

But I Read Them:

The Duke & I (after I watched the show)

When He Was Wicked (because everyone said it was sexy)

The Viscount Who Loved Me (after I watched the show)

Romancing Mr. Bridgerton (because everyone likes Polin so much)

To Sir Phillip, With Love (because I was curious)

An Offer from a Gentleman (because I was at last willing to have Benedict ruined for me since everyone said he was a jerk in the books)

Now, here's my list IN ORDER OF ENJOYMENT from LEAST to MOST (discounting all factors such as the amount of sexism and quality of plot and writing, etc., because there are some wild things in these books, BUT for the sake of the ranking, this is just HOW MUCH I LIKED THEM with no other factors involved):

Romancing Mr. Bridgerton

The Duke & I

To Sir Phillip, With Love

The Viscount Who Loved Me

An Offer from a Gentleman

When He Was Wicked

I didn't actively HATE any of these, though there were moments in most of them that I hated.

And here's why they are in that order.

Romancing Mr. Bridgerton - #6

I think the thing that destroyed this for me was expectations. Y'all love Polin so much, but I just felt like their relationship wasn't developed AT ALL? Like, the story relies on them being "friends" to lovers, but I never felt the friendship. It felt like Penelope had a silly crush on him, Colin suddenly found her hot after she "grew up" (got skinnier, even?), and they started wanting to bone. Further, it wasn't that sexy, and y'all have been acting like it's SO SEXY. But even things like the mirror scene are just ... a fantasy Colin has but never actually does?? Like, that's so lame? And what they do do is off screen or not very hot, with the exception of the carriage scene which is kind of weird/creepy in the first place. Plus, Colin is a jerk, and Penelope is not much better if only because she refuses to communicate in a helpful manner.

The Duke & I - #5

They really did soften that non-con in the show, didn't they? Like, in the show, I really do think Daphne had NO IDEA what she was doing. She wasn't taught consent. In the book, she feels very much in control, and that's gross. That said, I get that in the era ... like, I know it's wrong, but I get it. Anyways, all this to say, it was kind of vanilla, and not super charming, and Daphne really is "not like other girls." I did like the sibling interactions, though.

To Sir Phillip, With Love - #4

I think because y'all like Eloise in the show, you have villainized this one, but it's actually pretty solid. There are some iffy bits, and like every single hero in this series, Phillip can be ... yeah. Wildly sexist and obviously dealing with issues that are never resolved. BUT that said ... I didn't think it was half-bad? I think it could have been adapted well, but show Eloise is more a jerk who feels like discount Hyacinth (I adore Hyacinth, but she's likable). So I was pleasantly surprised with this one as I expected it to be far, far worse, especially as I don't like show Eloise. But this Eloise is fine, if she does need a little more personality!

The Viscount Who Loved Me - #3

Not actually that good of a book, but I LOVE Simone and Jonathan, so that's why this is up to high. Since I watched it after watching season 2, I JUST. I CAN'T. HELP. MYSELF. Their chemistry has made the book better. Also, the book removes the annoying subplot with Edwina and all the wedding drama and just ... it makes it better. I wish they'd found a way to work it out without the pain that was that one really bad part of season 2 (where they carried on with the wedding with Edwina) while also giving Kate and Anthony the ability to choose each other/not have an arranged marriage. Like, surely there must have been a way!

An Offer from a Gentleman - #2

The only reason this is #2 is because my expectations were on the GROUND. I read this last because I just KNEW I was going to come out DETESTING Benedict, and I didn't want to. He's like my favorite character in the show (other than Kate who is absolute perfection ... oh, and Lady Danbury, though she's a much more minor character ... and Simon, I actually really like show Simon), and like, I wasn't ready to have my baby Benedict destroyed. But again, I dreamt worse than was true! I inserted more sexism and bullying and evil in the book in my head than was true! So because my expectations were so low, I really enjoyed it, and I thought Sophie was the SWEETEST (other than Kate and Francesca, she is my favorite book heroine - they're all tied for 1st place) and ... like, I even liked her so much that I went back to Eloise's book to reread her scenes because I LOVE HER. Benedict wasn't fantastic, but their sex was sexy, and I think Sophie deserves all the world. She is a gem. Protect my baby forever. <3

When He Was Wicked - #1

I LOVE THIS BOOK. Why don't you talk about it more? Francesca and Michael are GREAT. I can't wait to see the Fran/John/Michael trio in the show (I hope!!!). The chemistry, the sex, the tragedy and heartbreak, the angst, the longing for a child ... all of it touched me in a deep place. I also think it was better written than some of the other stories, though beauty may be in the eye of the beholder. Sure, there are some typical-of-the-books weird moments (Michael at times can be really sexist/angry/borderline playing with non-con in an unhealthy way when it comes to his "seducing", but it was less creepy than some of the other ones because Fran is always so into it, and it was clear that her regrets were entirely due to John, not because she felt violated or used by Michael, which is what really would have been disturbing). That said, I felt like I was sighing and suspending my disbelief less with this novel? And really, it almost made me cry several times, sometimes even during the sexy scenes, because I just FELT FOR THEM. Like, truly, I don't know if it's because I'm dealin' with some baby issues or because it hits my sexsy times tastes so well, but like, I was INVESTED. Anyways, I just thought this book was great (for a Bridgerton novel).

I know there are some unpopular opinions here, so I may get beat up, but hey, guys, they're just books! And a TV show! Let's not be mean to each other about tastes, okay? Even though I was snarky here a bit lol so I deserve it. OKAY have at me! BULLY AWAY. I'm sorrrrrryyyy.

[lorelylantana]

Savageries of the Heart Chapter 10; Reminiscence

First-Previous-Next

Ao3

Chapter Rating: G Overall Rating: E

Impa shut off the feed with a sigh of irritation, sending word to the guards to transport Nohansen to a facility in Hateno so Zelda could deal with him at her leisure. After a few seconds passed in silence, Zelda decided to speak up.

“Right, with that settled, I propose that we extend this council meeting so we may begin any discussions that were,” Zelda cleared her throat, cheeks flushed, “postponed.”

It was quiet for a moment longer, and Zelda had worried she’d overstepped, but the Rito Warden on the opposite side of the table shrugged his shoulders. 

“We’re all gathered here anyway. Might as well make it worth the trip.”

The others nodded in a consensus, and Zelda caught a gleam of pride in Urbosa’s eye.

Impa swept a finger across the map, adjusting the point of view to settle above the entire continent. 

“In recent years it has come to our attention that the upper echelons of Hyrule’s ruling class have been infiltrated by Yiga clansmen in an attempt to sabotage not just the Kingdom, but the entire continent.”

“Why would a threat to the Kingdom of Hyrule affect the Zonai?” Zelda asked, brow raised, “forgive me for saying so, but my time in the Dragonlands has made it very clear that my Uncle has catastrophically underestimated you,”

“Us,” Link cut in, gently nudging her elbow.

“Us,” Zelda corrected, warmth fluttering in her chest, “the point stands, Hyrule’s isolationist policies have kept them out of international politics for as long as I . . .” Zelda trailed off, thinking back to the maps her uncle had pinned in her study, how he’d pored over them, paranoid at a threat that lurked across every border. 

“War,” Zelda breathed, shocked to her core. When her uncle had informed her of her upcoming marriage, she hadn't taken the necessity for Zonai military support seriously. It’d been peaceful since the Calamity, and Hyrule field didn’t provide any resources the other territories didn’t possess themselves, so she saw no strategic motivation. If what Impa said rang true, and someone was whispering in the regent turned king’s ear, that was another tale entirely. “They intend to instigate a war.”

“That’s the least of our problems,” Urbosa said, pressing a button to highlight all of the border outposts and the bridges surrounding the Kingdom. “Hylia river makes holding back any forces they send our way child’s play. Daphnes likely believes us to be more reliant on passage through your territory, and would likely build his strategy on the assumption that we’d want to avoid damaging any major thoroughfares. Depending on whatever narrative the Yiga fed him with, he might even think he can cross the borders without us noticing. Since the Railway’s completion, we’ve been able to bypass Hyrule Field in its entirety. In the event of an all out war with Hyrule, we’d blow all of the bridges and make sure they stay that way.”

“It would be simple enough to manage, even in the long term,” Mipha confirmed. Link nodded, but his brow was creased with worry.

“What worries us isn’t the possibility of conflict, but the timing. The Zonai have been unified for centuries, but there was a time when the territories were still separate. If conquest was the goal, the time for it passed generations ago. What the Yiga most likely want is division. They want to keep us from negotiating with the people of Hyrule, and more specifically, the royal family.”

“Negotiating for what?” Zelda asked. This time it was Impa who took the lead, waving in two Sheikah carrying some mechanism in their hands. They placed it on the table, and its six legs rolled aimlessly. Zelda gave it a closer look. It had the shape of an upturned pot, and she noticed what almost looked like an eye.

“As you know, Hyrule’s king grew paranoid after the Calamity, he was afraid our technology was too powerful, so he demanded that we destroy it. Instead we decided to retreat to Kakariko, and when he attempted to take military action against us, the Zonai intervened. We were able to keep some of our knowledge thanks to the protection they provided, but the majority of it was lost due to our main database’s location underneath Hyrule Castle. The Princess Zelda of the time helped wherever she could, but the king destroyed any scrap he could get his hands on. The best she could do was hide away the biggest cache of data with a seal of her own making, keeping her father’s hands off it. 

“For thousands of years, that seemed to be the end of it. We were able to regain most of our knowledge and we went on with our lives. It wasn’t until years ago, with the death of your parents, that we began to suspect things weren’t right.”

Impa gave Link a look, ceding the floor, he nodded and spoke, “My predecessor, Rhiannon, felt herself grow weak shortly before your parent’s deaths reached our ears. She didn’t like the look of it, how they both died on the same day and how she was fading in a way none of the doctors or monks could explain. She consulted with Lanayru at the Spring of Wisdom for guidance. They said she only had a few years left, and she needed to find her successor before Calamity rose again. She found me,” he drifted off, taking her hand.

For the first time since becoming Mother of the Dragonlands, Zelda felt ice pour down her veins. Chilled to the core. She’d heard whispers of Calamity's return, of course, she’d paid it no mind, thinking it was another one of her uncle’s games.

“I’ll admit all this techno stuff is a few steps out of my quarry, but what I do know is the Calamity is returning, the army we built against it hasn’t moved in an age, and they won’t be unless we get our hands on that data,” Daruk muttered. He was large, even for a Goron, and this room clearly wasn’t built for him, so the mere act of scratching the back of his head almost sent Link into the ceiling. Despite the gravity of the situation growing heavier, Zelda found herself grateful for her husband’s reflexes. Across the table, Urbosa nodded, looking Zelda in the eye.

“A princess created that seal, a princess can destroy it. But first, we need to take back Hyrule Castle”

It was a strange thing, to stand atop an ice capped mountain without so much as a shiver. It wasn’t natural, or maybe it was, and Zelda’s understanding of the world was simply wrong.

So, so wrong. 

Zelda wasn’t used to taking power for granted, yet here she was, looking out over her dominion as the sky brightened, one shade of blue at a time. After a moment’s hesitation, she stepped into the spring, waters warm and soothing as it caressed the skin of her ankles and seeped the fringes of her cerulean wrap skirt.

The first time she’d stepped into a sacred spring, she had faced the goddess like an adversary. An obstacle to overcome before she could at long last hold her head high with the assurance that she deserved a place in Hyrule Castle. 

What an insidious ploy, drafting Zelda to fight a war against herself.

Zelda shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She didn’t come here to wallow in past miseries. She came here to brace herself. Walking through the spring up to the statue, she pulled herself onto the shelf and let her feet dangle into the water. Perhaps she should have been more hesitant to sit on what could very well be an altar, but she couldn’t bring herself to worry. Something in the back of her mind told her that the Spring of Wisdom was hers and she could use it as she pleased. It seemed all the continent’s hopes were placed on her shoulders, and she had no idea how to carry them. It would be one thing if her mother still lived.

 No.

It would be one thing if even a single text written by the women who came before her survived. But they were gone, and Zelda had to stumble blindly forward. Looking to preserve their future by grasping at a past that was ripped from her hands more than a decade ago.

Alone in a sacred spring atop an ice capped mountain, Zelda prayed. In the light of the rising sun, she desperately hoped for just one hint of wisdom from her ancestors. Not the histories written and corrupted by paranoid kings, but the princesses of legend that faced, and brought down, the evils threatening the land with their own hands.

Outside of the Spring of Wisdom, Link’s footsteps crunched into the snow. Zelda opened her eyes to watch him step into the water. 

“How are you?” he asked, coming to kneel before her, chin resting lightly on her knee. She took a breath, searching for words before answering.

“I feel set adrift and pinned down all at once,” she mused, “It is clear to me that Hyrule is corrupted, and I haven’t the faintest idea how to fix it.” Link’s hand curled over her knee, fingertips drifting over her skin.

“I’m the youngest Warden in Zonai history,” he said, a musical tilt coming into his voice when Zelda began running her fingers through his hair, “I was terrified stepping off the boat after Rhiannon’s funeral, because there were patrols to be organize and warriors to train and I hadn’t the faintest idea where to start. Maybe I would have felt better if I was from a different region, but being Warden of the Dragonlands means being Keeper of the entire continent, and that’s what suffocated me. It would be one thing to mount a defense here, where I know each forest, shore, and river like the back of my hand, but everywhere else? I knew next to nothing about them other than the short trips I’d taken. 

“I just panicked, so I ran. After a Warden dies, there's supposed to be three months of grace for their successor to take down a great beast before their claim can be challenged. I ended up tracking a Lynel into the mountains that very evening.”

He paused, and Zelda could feel him swallow against her leg. She scratched his head gently, trying to soothe him in whatever way she could. He took a shuddering breath, then began again. “I spent hours looking at its corpse, waiting for it to change me, somehow. I thought that completing the Rite to Ascend as Warden would make me feel calmer, more ready, but it didn’t. I was the same as I ever was.” He looked up at her then, and Zelda could see the calm, steady look in his eyes. “But I was enough Zelda. I was ready, even when I felt anything but. I think we need a little blind faith in ourselves when dealing with new things. There’s never been a Hyrulean Queen among the Zonai before you, so the challenges before you are unique.” Link gave her a grin that warmed her chest and put a small smile on her own face. “Just because there’s no one to guide you down this path doesn’t mean you aren’t ready for it. Follow your instinct, and the answer will come when the time is right.”

Zelda leaned back against the statue as she mulled his words over. It was a new concept, that she could be naturally suited for anything, but Zelda couldn’t shake the confidence she found in his warm gaze. Besides, she handled her duties as Mother of the Dragonlands well enough, could saving Hyrule really be beyond her reach? 

Link didn’t say anything more, just soaking in the warmth of the dawn with her, but she was content to fill the silence herself by humming a quiet tune as she used the serenity of the moment to pull herself together. Her hands moved out of his hair and skimmed down his neck, fingers tapping imaginary notes into Link's shoulder. The song behind her closed lips shifted, transitioning from her childhood lullaby into a song that struck her as familiar yet indescribably ancient.

Time passes, people move

Like a river’s flow, it never ends.

A childish mind will turn to noble ambition.

Young love will become deep affection.

The water’s clear surface reflects growth.

The final note had not left the confines of her throat when Zelda’s husband disappeared into thin air.

[triviareads]

May I ask wouldn’t every debutante be taught atleast in theory how to manage a household? Like Daphne and Eloise and Francesca would have been taught this. I see many people acknowledging that Kate would know how to run a household because she was kind of thrust into that that role but surely she would have been taught how to before growing up. Even Edwina would know how to run a household in the sense doing all the budgets etc. I thought this was a big part in debutante training. I mean the show does make it seem like they do nothing but plan balls but weren’t noble ladies taught budgeting, hiring maids etc.

Yup, all of them would have been taught this. I've seen some incredibly stupid takes about why Kate makes a better wife than Edwina because Kate knows how to manage finances and stuff and all Edwina knows is how to speak Greek and play the harp, but that's not true in the least. I think regardless of the culture, upper-class women have always been taught how to manage a household and servants. I'm sure the specifics vary by culture (my great-grandparents were mostly landowners so I've heard a little about how they spent their days), so I'll tell you what I know about regency upper-class women:

They were probably taught basic math and budgeting probably before their debut, so you wouldn't see them discussing it once they're out. They were also taught how to manage household servants and work with the housekeepers to ensure their duties were being fulfilled, and set menus and order household items (which would require keeping track of expenses). Another part of a lady's duties would be tenant visits and just being a leader of local society and looking after the welfare of "the people" in that noblesse oblige sort of way. A lot of this was taught from a young age simply by shadowing their mothers or female relatives, and I imagine once they grew older, they'd help female relatives entertain to get the gist of it. For example, I've read stories where the girl is not yet out, but close, so she practices ordering a meal and entertaining for the night on close family. Once they had their own household to manage, they were also in charge of hiring most servants (even though the man was paying their salaries).

Obviously, the extent to which they were involved depended on their interest as well as the size and amount of their properties. If they had multiple properties, they might be more hands-off and rely on housekeepers than if they had a single, smaller household where they had a lot more responsibility and less time for leisure.

But managing a household was an important skill to have, and based on research, a decent amount of women found themselves in that position without even marrying and serving as mistress of the house and hostess for a relative because men couldn't handle this stuff themselves (for some reason all English examples escape me and I'm now thinking about bachelor or widowed presidents like Jefferson who had other women like Dolley Madison step up and entertain with him), and a woman in the house was a valuable resource.

[paiths]

headcanons / metas for 5 random muses go!

oh thank youuuuu for sending this in <3 but i will be breaking the rules and do 4 muses, the mystery gang! hope that's okay :p anyway, let's talk money and their upbringing, shall we? they're all what you'd call..... uhhhhhh...... pretty privileged kids. the kind that would say they were "comfortable", yknow? from upper-middle to downright multimillionaire families, let's go one by one:

fred's family are behind the most well-known escape room company in the country, even having some establishments all throughout the world. they aren't the uber rich, but they're quite above middle class. he's not an only kid, so the succession of the company was left to his older siblings while he goes around the world doing his shit.

daphne comes from just the oldest money. her family has state across the world, they own shares of different companies, and she was even offered the opening of a fashion brand to herself if she'd like it. she decided to go and make her own way on the world, but... she knows anything is just one phone call away, from 10k on her name to a hitman if she needs it.

velma isn't crazy rich; her parents themselves didn't grow up in the best of positions, but eventually managed to climb to academia, and were able to give their daughter a better life and more opportunities than they themselves had. they had two cars, had trips at least once a year, and could even afford private tutors when she wanted to try piano and painting.

shaggy had the most humble childhood out of the four. with a handful of siblings, his mom had to stay home, so resources were spread out thin. still, he grew up in a good, suburban neighborhood, and got his private computer at age fifteen (that poor pc, so much hardcore porn and pirated videogames). eventually he moved out, which led to him living on a month-to-month basis, but he knew he had his parents help if he ever really needed it.

[click-to-tweet]

Flower pics before spring ends

1-Syringa vulgaris

2- Prunus sp. (likely Prunus domestica)

3- Prunus sp. (likely Prunus domestica L.)

4- Serpias sp.

5- Prunus sp. (likely Prunus amygdalus var. dulcis)

6- thats a bee (Apis mellifica)

7- Malvae sylvesteis

8- Prunus amygdalus (var. dulcis)

Coolest thing university has given me is the ability to identify plants and i feel like a witch each time i look at a plant and go "Oh yes, Malva sylvestris!"

All these plants are common around where I live. They have been embedded into our culture, idioms, cusine, they have created our idea of beauty, what we can create with these plants we have considered delicious, the soil these flowers bloomed we have considered sacred, we have given them names and then named our children after them. We made up stories about them and believed in those stories. They happened our lives, and our lives revolved around them, us, as a tiny society in the seaside, became one with those plants. They were our food and we were theirs.

They have taught us of love and we have lived up to that. We tried to live up to that.

They have taught us how to live, in harsh conditions, starving of food, love, thirsty and unwelcome, they have taught us of how to love and strive. They became our food when we had none. Our shade when we were burning, our fire when we were freezing, our stories when we were bored.

They were how we learned not to fall or to get up, how we learned sharing, wisdom, patience. They were our greatest, most selfless teachers. Their scent filled up forests, pastures, even cities. They were there during the most important times of our lives, the scent of flowers was there for our birth and death, and when we graduated and married and laughed and cried. My city, it smells of lilacs.

Malvae Sylvestris was "İlmik" for me, when i was growing up. It grew during the rainy season, it made delicious börek filling and also was great with a side of youghurt. It is "ebegümeci" for some people still, which derives from "ebe gömeci (midwife's burier)", for its use in abortions before healthcare was as easy to reach. To some, this is medicine for the stinging nettle, or burns.

Prunus amygdalus is, well, almond, it is food to say the least. Almonds, "çağla" before almonds mature, and if fruits did not exist we would gnaw on the dried liquid dripping from the bark. The inedible variation, Prunus amygdalus var. amaratus, contains some amount of arsenic. The scent reminds me of thr bitter almond cookies, delicious really, to Gabriel Garcia Marquez it apparently inevitably reminded of thr fate of unrequited love. "Love in the Times of Cholera" smells like bitter almonds, the story, the whole story does.

Not a picture of them here, but here, stories about Morus nigra and Laurus nobilis and Rosa damascena and Galanthus sp.

You must know Apollon and Daphne, and how the poor girl was absolutely hating this god because of Apollo's cockiness and ego, how she begged the gods to be forgiven for a fault she did not commit. How, just as she was about to give up, she was turned into a tree, a laurel. How her body, still alive, now as a tree, had not found peace as Apollo made crowns out of her leaves, oh just because he loved her so much. This is a warped, horrible story about love, and about how we can sometimes do nothing or anything can be forgiven when they are out of love, no matter how badly we hurt others. This is glorifying being blind- as was Apollo. A beautiful story regardless.

Rosa damascena is again from greek mythology, and is a prettier, kinder, more gentle story- or as pretty and kind and gentle as Greek mythology goes. This is how Aphrodite's blood colored the all white roses red, as she was rushing to reach her dying lover. This is what she did for the one she truly loved, she was hurt and she did not care. This is what we think of true love. The lover died regardless. Red roses smell like blood to me, since then.

And do you want to hear yet another story? This is a regional story for snowdrop. Legend says that snowdrop was a delicate flower. So delicate yet so brave, so brave yet so in love. It was in love with the sun itself, and each day as it waited under the soil to bloom, the more the longing in its heart grew. The flower, in cold weather, imagined the gentle rays of the sun, pretty days of the spring. Each time it tried to repress its longing, it grew inside of the flower a little bit more. Each time the flower dreamt of beautiful, warm days of the spring, the cold felt colder. The snowdrop, being the brave little soul it is, then decided to bloom right that moment. The poor flower though, was gentle. Other flowers shouted, and the wind whispered to the seed, "do not bloom." "If you bloom now, the cold will kill you. If you bloom now, the snow will freeze you." It kniewz the snowdrop knew very well that the cold would kill it, and the snow would freeze it. One day, the flower waited for the snow to melt. Two days, for the air to get warm. Three days, the snowdrop was impatient. It longed for the sun more strongly than anyone had ever wished for something. The snowdrop turned its head away from other plants waiting under the soil, and started growing. It grew, grew, grew... But it was impatient, and the snow was still resting on the soil. The snowdrop did not care, and reached up, until it could finally see the sun. The already delicate flower was weakened already, and the cold was too much for it. Yet soon, the morning came and the sun was up. The sun rays were as warm and as gentle as the snowdrop had imagined, and the light was as beautiful. The sun smiled upon the snowdrop, and the snowdrop had seen the sun which it had missed for so long. It had touched the light for as much as it could... But the cold, the cold and the snow was too much, and the snowdrop was the only flower around. There died the poor flower, right that night, having seen the sun at the expense of its own life.

And yeah, mulberry. Would love to tell the story myself, but no. Just read, directly, from the source.