#its truly wonderful and I hope many people see it!

[shadowsingercassia]

Thank you for the tag @anarchiii !! ❤️

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

I haven't posted anything on AO3 and I don't think I have an account either but that's only because I have no idea how to use it 😂

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

25! (If I counted correctly)

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Well I have a series that I stopped updating so that's one (?) and a part 2 to a fic I have so... that makes it 2 (I think...) 🤔

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

So I have two 🙂 (a little bit of rambling):

First is my The Gate To Home series! It was everything for me, I really don't know how I got through it and even if I hadn't prepared it properly so many people loved it and supported it until the end (I love you all smm ❤️)

Second is The Day Hope Died! This fic has a special place in my heart because when I'm having a hard time, I write and this is the only fic of those that I had the courage to post. The feelings there, the angst are a representation and a reflection of my own that day (I'm alright now for anyone wondering!)

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I think that Genuine Poetry is a type of fic that I don't usually write and that is purely because of the poem I put in the fic (I had never written a poem in my life before that)

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

So Masked Christine of the Opera surprised me with its ending, I was not expecting that plot twist to settle into my mind though rereading it, it's not great, but the rest of it is very special to me 💕 another thing I was surprised to see when I finished writing it is that I actually wrote it in third person and I hadn't even realized 🥲

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Again it's Masked Christine of the Opera, I really loved writing it and I'm going to say it, it's a great fic although the ending is a little bad (I really had thought it was good 😭) it just has my heart ❤️

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

I really have a lot of artists that have inspired me to make my own art (even if I'm still a beginner) and for that I want to thank @dawneternal and @freyjas-musings

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

Alright I will yap so bear with me:

@scorpioriesling all your fics are incredible, I absolutely loved Too Hot To Handle and I actually binge-read it in September and I wanted to say I'm obsessed, same for the Invisible String and all your other fics! 🫶

@velarisdusk your fics are... mwah 💋 I don't even know where to begin your writing is amazing and truly I love you so much! This tag game was probably my sign to re-read all your fics 😂

@illyrianbitch I love each and every single thing you write, if I could have them injected into my veins I would do it 💓 (I'm also very glad you're doing well now 🥰)

@azrielslittleslut you quite literally inspired me to write an Azriel x reader fic because of how well you capture his personality 💙

@azrielsdove your fics mean everything to me, I've read each one twice and I'm planning on reading them all again ❤️

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

I've been on Tumblr for a little less than a year I think (me and my alzheimer that I don't actually have) but recently I have discovered @thelov3lybookworm (I know you are not a new author but I'm obsessed with your Lucien week fics and im currently reading all your other fics too!!)

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start

No, I haven't done any

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

In my writing, reading my first and latest fic, I'm proud because I've grown but I'm also proud because I had the courage to start so shoutout to my first fic Stupid Headache (you will always be my baby) 🥰

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Dont take it seriously (like in a way of dont view it as a competition). That's the most important thing I've learned. When I started, which was long before I got Tumblr (like when I was a teenager I wrote my first short story) and I took it so seriously, planning things obsessively, which is the reason I actually lost my passion but now I found it again and I'm very grateful for that 💞

14. What is your advice?

Well, I really don't know any good advice, I mean I'm still learning things everyday but I think my biggest advice is what I previously said, don't take it seriously, it's not a competition

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

I want to try and create an OC and maybe start writing more ships and less x reader but mostly I just want to write, that's my goal, not to give up on writing :)

note: again, thank you @anarchiii for the tag !!

no pressure tags: @really-fanny-longbottom @illyriassweetheart @azrielsdove and anyone else who wants to do this!

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you so much @velarisdusk for the tag! 🫶🏻

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

I don't have anything published on AO3 simply because I still don't know how to use it even though I do have an account. But here on tumblr, it's 92.878

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

49! I've never counted them before and never realized just how many they were omg

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Ongoing only Bound By Secrets. In progress apparently 10? I thought I had 3 WIPs. I completely forgot about the other 7 lol

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

UGH how do I choose one? A Helping Hand has a special place in my heart because it's the first fic I wrote and posted. Night and Days is one of my favorites because I love the banter between Azriel and reader, and I also have to mention Say My Name because omg I loved writing that one and I know I might be biased but I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I'd say the first few things I wrote rather than one in particular for the simple reason that in Italian I tend to write very long sentences because it's normal, but in English sentences are usually shorter so it took a bit to get into that mindset. As for experimental, I'm trying to write a fic from two povs at the same time, sort of like an omniscient narrator. We'll see how it turns out.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

Many fics surprise me while writing because I don't plan them out that much other than a few things I want to happen and then I see where the story leads me. As for reception, Bound by Secrets. I didn't expect so many people asking for a part 2! (I'll write it, I promise)

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

The Path To Healing and on a happier (and smutty) note Alcohol and Giggles. I cried writing the first one and laughed writing the second one.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

I love every single fanart by madschofield and elizianna.the.one!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@writingcroissant was the first author I found on here, the literal reason I created an account was to read her fics, and @illyrianbitch was the second. I love everything they write and it made me want to write again.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@shedoessoshedoes and @duskandcobalt! I'm going to read all of your fics so don't be surprised if you see me in your notifications for the next few weeks 🥰

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start

Nope, no collaborations.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Kinktober! I decided to do it two weeks before it started and didn't think I'd be able to write all 31 one fics but I did it!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

When I started posting, I kept opening tumblr every five minutes to see if there were any new notes/comments/etc. Now I don't do that anymore. I still care about people enjoying my content of course and any kind of feedback is always super appreciated, but I don't need to continuously check to know that my writing is valid and good even if I get only a few likes.

14. What is your advice?

I'm the wrong person to ask this to, but I guess write what you like and what you want to read. I know it's basic, but never before I realized just how true it is. Feedback and appreciation for your work is awesome, but you have to be the first one to like it or it's probably going to turn out bland if you push yourself to write something you don't like or are not interested in.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finish working on all those WIPs apparently lol. And I have an idea for a series that I want to work on as well.

No pressure of course, but if you'd like to @azrielslittleslut @anarchiii @shedoessoshedoes or anyone else who wants to do it!

[creekbed-burial]

Everyday i get on Redfin and pray that the small cute houses i like in the town i wanna move to are still for sale and havent been bought by people wanting an “investment property” and everyday at least one goes away and i die a lil inside

[dazais-crab-addiction]

I will never understand vehemently hating ships for no other reason than you have other ships you prefer. Cuz like, look at these characters we all adore. Look at them all being adorable and happy. Like what.

I only really ship two pairings in bsd, but I reblog so much stuff for other ships because they are cute as hell and they look so happy. You can tell the amount of love people who ship those pairings put into it. And I think thats beautiful.

[aventurineswife]

sunday definitely. more cuz i wanna tease my friend, a huge fanboy for sunday lmao.

-Smooch Anon 💋

Sunday's Voicelines about his S/O

I hope your friend likes this! 🫣🤭

Ratio's ver | Aventurine's ver | Luka's ver

(aisbwksgensus HE'S SO PRETTY?!😭☹️💙)

First Meeting: Fate's Quiet Arrival

I remember the first time I saw them—an unexpected encounter, yet the moment felt... destined. They were different. There was a sense of calm in their presence, a kind of quiet strength. Most people would have been overwhelmed by the world around them, but they simply observed. I couldn't help but be intrigued by their composure. It was like they weren’t afraid to see the world for what it truly was. And yet... I sensed that behind their eyes, there was more. Something beyond what they let others see. It wasn’t long before I knew—our paths were meant to cross.

First Date: A Moment in Time

It was a quiet evening, the world around us so still, so peaceful. We walked together, side by side, as if time itself had paused. Their presence calmed me in ways I never imagined possible. The simplicity of it—a shared moment, no need for grand gestures. It was perfect in its own subtle way.

Thinking About Them: The Pull of the Unseen

I often find myself lost in thoughts of them. How they carry themselves—so composed, so grounded. I wonder if they see the world as I do, or if they have a different vision. Perhaps that’s what draws me to them—how they challenge my thoughts without even trying. They are a quiet strength I can’t quite understand, but I find myself wanting to.

Favourite Times with Them: The Space Between Us

There are so many memories, but perhaps the moments when we can just be, without the weight of the world on our shoulders, are the ones I treasure most. Whether it’s a simple conversation or silence between us, those times are where I feel the most... alive. When it’s just us, I forget about everything else.

Plans for the Future: Building a Sanctuary

I think of the future often, but my thoughts are never certain. I want a place where we can both be free, where the world cannot reach us with its cruelty. I want to build something lasting, where pain has no dominion. Perhaps in time, we’ll have that—together. A world where we can escape, yes, but in that escape, I hope we find something pure, something real.

The Instinct to Protect

There’s something about them that makes me want to protect them, yet I know they can protect themselves just fine. It’s not weakness, but rather an instinctive desire to keep them safe. Perhaps it’s the way they make me feel, as if I’ve found something worth holding onto, in a world where everything else is fragile and fleeting.

[pixelatedraindrops]

Oh this is absolutely wonderful!! Thank you for drawing my request! This has to be one of my top favorites for sure! I could say so much about this and now that I have more space on tumblr, I shall go all out!

First of all, I love that you drew it to look as if it takes place in an actual canon event. And of Chapter 3 and their first meeting! Imagine if this was an alternate scene, you connected it so perfectly!! I can see Yuma getting a fever not only from almost drowning, but also the stress of likely losing everyone and everything as well as the exhaustion of everything he’s been through so far! Yes!! You really get what I think here! And I love how you made Yuma pant and collapse. And then Makoto catching him…it’s so good 😭 Just like a real manga or anime scene! 👏

And the second part, Makoto being so considerate and caring of Yuma despite the fact that he likely sees him as an enemy right now. Makoto is a person with a kind heart so even if he feels conflicted about Yuma, he still cares so tenderly for him when he’s not well. I do think that is the kind of person Makoto is. Since he cares for and loves an entire city of people like him, I think he would have the same caring nature towards anyone if they weren’t well, even his original. Sure he could do it for the sake of his plan to continue to guide yuma to the truth and use him to usurp yomi, but no I think deep down, he does genuinely care about him and wants him to get better soon.

I really love that you made Makoto look so surprised/shocked after he discovered Yuma had a fever. It’s such a nice touch to know that he cares deep down for him! 💕 I like that we think similarly about Makoto and Yuma, so I knew you would draw this out so perfectly and with such care and attention to detail. You really do draw these two so well!

Sorry to talk so much and I hope you can understand it. I just want to show my appreciation and that your hard work was all worth it! This is such a lovely manga drawing and I’m sure it will be appreciated and loved by lots of fans of these two. Just a sweet and serene moment between them and I think they need more moments like this 💜

Haha. I would’ve liked to see the consequences of Yuma eating Makoto’s cookies… 😂 He doesn’t know what sick people normally can eat so he just gets the cookies he already made.

Later Yuma feels sick again, with a stomachache

Makoto: Whoops! 😝

Anyway, thank you so much for drawing my request!! It was so worth the wait! And the other drawings are so cute as well!! I love the comic of them sleeping together too, so sweet!! 💕

I will look forward to more cute art you make of these two in the future! 💜

RAINCODE doodles No.5

Only Yuma and Makoto.

Here is a request from my mutual friend on X.

And here is a request from @pixelatedraindrops .

⚠contains raincode SPOILERS⚠

↓↓↓

The rest of the two is just doodles.🤭

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 1.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search. 

I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition. 

Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received. 

I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all. 

Yours truly, 

A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there. 

Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea. 

Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws. 

I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed. 

Yours Truly,

Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.

I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom. 

Yours truly, 

Youngest Princes Y/N Kew 

The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention. 

Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them. 

They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.

But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama. 

In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters. 

“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.” 

“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them. 

Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?” 

Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?” 

“Everything is wrong with that.” 

“Hmm.” 

He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face. 

“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.” 

Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?” 

Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.” 

Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.” 

“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.  

“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said. 

“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.” 

The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud: 

“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered. 

Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her. 

Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.” 

“Piss off.” 

“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms. 

Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.” 

The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell. 

“I don’t want this anymore.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.” 

“Please, just give u—” 

“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.” 

“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.” 

Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”

“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.” 

“I second that.” 

“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.” 

“The princess, no doubt.”

”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything. 

That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?” 

“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.

“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.” 

Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.” 

All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society. 

From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today. 

But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps. 

You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness. 

After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get. 

You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham. 

Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month. 

You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen. 

“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.” 

“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?” 

“Not your room?” 

“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.” 

“You are getting restless.” 

“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?” 

“Oh yes, she’s fine.” 

“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.” 

Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name. 

It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact. 

You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.” 

The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.” 

“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.” 

“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?” 

“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.” 

At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you. 

“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?” 

“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.” 

“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?” 

“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.”  

“And, by the way, I already washed up.” 

“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.” 

You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room. 

Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora. 

“Oh, good. It is just you.” 

“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?” 

You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.” 

“What?” 

“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.” 

“Your Highness.” 

“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.” 

Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.” 

She gasped as you hugged her. 

“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.” 

“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.” 

You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.  

You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination. 

The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?” 

“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it. 

The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs. 

“Is there a problem, Marshall?” 

He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.” 

“WHAT?!” 

The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back. 

You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance. 

Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss. 

“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…” 

“Beckett,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name. 

“Mrs. Beckett?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all. 

“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.” 

“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.” 

You nodded. “Simply Miss Beckett.” 

“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.” 

Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues. 

“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.” 

He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.” 

“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.” 

They all chuckled when you laughed. 

You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.” 

The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you. 

“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?” 

“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.” 

“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?” 

“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time. 

You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.” 

“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.” 

“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.” 

It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.  

Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”

(part 2)

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[lady-ace]

The cities are alive

By now, it's a pretty common fact that the cities — yes, cities are in fact, alive.

They can project a body in their territory, thus showing their presence.

Lady Gotham is a dark mistress. Her wings are black like the fog that covers her whole city — as black as Gotham's night. Her long dress, even though seemingly soft and elegant in first glance, won't ever sway, not even in the harshest winter winds Gotham offers.

Even though she wears a blindfold, she sees all, is all. She sees beyond the surface of what eyes can see; knowing full well the pain and suffering every single Gotham citizen goes through, and bears that burden.

Her whole body seems to be made of pure, dark energy. Some accounts of eye witnesses say that if Lady Gotham wished so, she could easily blend into the shadows, as if she was never there. Ever watching over her people, even though unseen.

Legends say that if you ever feel like you're being watched even though there's nobody there, it's a sign Lady Gotham's spirit has her sights on you.

The person who have her favor, the ones she sees herself the most in, are her royal knights, who fight to keep her city and her people safe, every night.

Metropolis' spirit was very different, in many ways.

Metropolis was sunny and hopeful — a truly carefree soul.

Metropolis was the city that showed himself the most, simply enjoying being able to watch as the civillians go about their day, making the city burst with life.

Metropolis thrives on the energy of its people — that is reflected on the bright, sunny days with no clouds in sight, where the skyline gleams.

Of course, Metropolis' chosen is Superman, the most bright symbol of hope there is. Inspired by him, Metropolis even decided to encorporate a cape in their astral projection, said cape that shines like the sun and gleams like the sky no matter the time.

Everyone knows a city's spirit has at least something in common with their chosen.

Metropolis is the most boyscout city spirit out there. More often than not, the spirit can be found watching the sunrise, flying over the clouds, enjoying the freedom, or simply swinging his legs on a building, looking at everyone down below. The feeling of hope, of a chance of a better tomorrow — that is what Metropolis is looking for. And Superman has more than enough of that.

Even though Lady Gotham is cloaked in shadows, she doesn't wilt, she thrives— Just like her chosen, the Gotham Bats.

No one questions these things, they all make sense, don't they? The dark Lady has her dark Knights, the sunny city and the boyscout...

So imagine the faces of the League members when they find out through casual conversation that Fawcett is an actual child.

──────────────────────────

Green Lantern: “I know i shouldn't be talking about someone being childish, but the spirit that chose him is literally a child.”

Wonder Woman: “Are you certain that is the reason that the spirit chose to reflect a child's body? For his.. mentality?”

Green Lantern: “Yeah, pretty much. I mean, do you know any other reason that Fawcett could have chosen that form?”

Zatanna, who sometimes goes to Fawcett's magical market: “You all know that Fawcett's magical, right? What's more magical than a child's imagination?”

Flash: “If the spirit wanted to reflect something of Marvel's, why choose the mentality? The lightning bolt is right there!”

──────────────────────────

“Uno!” a child made of yellow energy exclaims, grinning devilishly.

Freddy gasps, holding a single card in his hand — having played the second to last one just seconds before. “Oh you did NOT just do that.”

Fawcett giggles like a goblin, watching as Freddy glares at them, pointedly making eye contact as he starts buying cards.

“Well, if you had been just a little faster..” Billy says, playing a reversal card. Freddy looks once at his new cards, then proceeds to sigh in frustration, buying even more cards while glaring murderously at the Champion.

“Batson, if i were you, i'd sleep with one eye open tonight.”

Billy can't contain his giggles anymore and bursts out laughing, Fawcett following suit.

[springtyme]

Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.

So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.

I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!

Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡

Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!

Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.

Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”

Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.

You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”

You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.

Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”

“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.

Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.

“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.

“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.

He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.

As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.

Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.

It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.

“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.

Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.

“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”

Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.

“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.

Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”

“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.

Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.

“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.

You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.

Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.

“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.

You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”

“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.

You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.

You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.

Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.

And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.

As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move

“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.

Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.

“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.

“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”

You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.

As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.

[mikoluvsblondes]

hey babe !! was wondering if you would make a fic emily engstler x pregnant! reader and them being like youtubers and they are just vlogging a day in their life

Blueberry Pancakes

Emily Engstler x reader

im sorry it's short. I hope you like it.

warnings: throw up/nausea(not in detail)

You woke up with a nauseous feeling bubbling in your chest. You ran into the bathroom quickly while trying your best not to disturb your sleeping girlfriend in bed next to you.

Now, you were standing by the kitchen counter facing a camera towards yourself, retelling the events that took place before you began recording: dealing with your nausea and showering.

"I'm pretty sure Emily is still asleep" you smile at the sound of her name "...I tried my best not to wake her." you're tone became slightly nervous.

"Usually, she'd be up with me, but I figured that shes tired from her game last night. Did you guys watch it?" you had a feeling many of your viewers most likely watched it online or in-person since a lot of them were subscribed to see more into Emily's life. "She did really good. I'm so proud of her."

You tap your chin thinking of what to make for breakfast before the idea came to you with a raise of your eyebrows. "I think I'm gonna make blueberry pancakes for us!" you say excitedly "Right baby?" you ask while smiling down at your stomach and rubbing it.

You pick out all of your ingredients(the blueberries being your favorite) and walk back to the camera to show each one. When you finish, you start mixing your ingredients in a bowl.

Just as you grab the pan to cook your pancakes, two sneaky hands creep around your waist to caress your stomach causing you to jump with a squeak. She lets out a breathy laugh, the lowness in her voice peaking through.

"Good morning, baby" her voice tickles in your ear.

"Good morning, Em" you giggled.

"Not you, my other baby." she jokes, looking over your shoulder at your pregnant belly before kissing her hand and pressing it to your stomach.

You turn around acting as if you were offended, but truly you felt happy knowing that Emily loves this baby as much as you do. "How dare you!" she kisses your cheeks with a laugh that influences you into laughing as well.

"What you making? Let me help." she follows behind you as you face the camera af the stove.

"Blueberry pancakes, but its really okay. I can do it myself. Its just a little reward for doing so good last night."

"Being around you and taking care of you are the best rewards I could ask for. Let me help. Please." she turned your head to give a sincere and loving look into your eyes and you smile at her. She then wrapped her arms around you from behind and you gladly reciprocate her affection by leaning into her and rubbing her forearms.

These romantic moments were the kind that many of your viewers watched your vlogs for. Usually they would leave sweet and supportive comments with the occasional 'i wish that was me'.

"They're being fed today." you say, referring to the viewers. You could already see the edits or the posts on a 'couple goals' account.

"I can already see the edits coming." she half-jokes, knowing that people would start making edits as soon as you posted the vlog.

[cvnt4him]

“diety! Izuku x nymph! rea-” alr candie pack it up.

Izuku midoriya, the man that he was. A god, a highly praised and well worshipped super natural being. He was such a luminescent creature, to describe this angelic being would be to say quite a divine nature. His presence was calming and his power was unlike any other. Despite being such a thing he always finds himself doing quite... unrighteous things. For example, stalking a nymph he accidentally came across. Well, not stalking. He certainly wouldn't call it that, just admiring. All the time. He'd first seen you when he traveled into the woods for a breath of fresh air, admiring the beautiful sound of nature the way the breeze of air flowed more freely butterflies and dragonflies flying together in perfect harmony, the flowers coming many different colors yet clashing together so amazingly. The beautiful blue water, it was all so pleasing to be able to witness. Izuku scoffed in pleasant disbelief at this rare find, still looking deeper into the woods he heard singing from not too far, he had assumed he was alone but the further he reached the louder it got. And there you were, such an interesting and illuminating creature... You were free spirited and nothing short of stunning. You were beautiful being living freely without a care. He wanted to move closer...but his footsteps were soon noticed by you causing you to instantly stop and advert your gaze in the direction he was in. His green hair helped him blend in well with the bushes, however he wasnt exactly invisible. He blinked once, and you were gone. He was saddened by your disappearance but graced by your presence. He was glad he saw such a unique free spirited thing... With a sigh he expected to turn around and walk back to his home, however upon turning around he sees you wide eyes and staring directly at him. He screeched and fell back onto the grass, the flowers seemingly wrapping around his hands and up his arms as if they were holding him down. You got closer to examine such a glowing being, his breath hitched at how close you had gotten also getting on your knees to get such a close view of him. He was nothing short of gorgeous, those adorable freckles and wide emerald kaleidoscope eyes of his. He couldn't help the warmth reaching to his face, his cheeks reddening within an instant.

“ hello.”

Was all you said to him, you batted your lashes at him repeatedly awaiting his response. He gulped down unable to speak, you were so beautiful and different, so captivating and delightful he'd wished he'd spoken to you when he had the chance. Alas just as he was about to you both heard people calling it for him,

“ my lord! where have you gone!”

You gasp and instantly run into the trees behind izuku, his gaze follows you as he stammers in his words. He felt the flowers around his arms deep back into the ground allowing him to stumblingly get onto his feet as he attempted to chase you with a meer

„ wait!”

But you were gone. Vanished into the beautiful woods. The sun was so bright in the direction you ran in as if it absorbed you completely. He sighed, as people arrived bursting his bubble. The people were so fascinated with this divine space they insisted it be local, but izuku declined. There was a reason you, an astonishing creature was alone in such a peaceful place he'd never seen before. He'd wondered if it would disappear by morning.

The next day izuku was quick to sneak away to find you, trying his best to remember which way he went to find your beautiful voice. You weren't singing like you were the other day. It was quite hard to find you but he managed to. You were silent, petting a deer as it laid its head on your lap, butterflies fluttering around your hair. You were truly nothing he'd ever seen before.

He wanted to speak to you, to touch you but he couldn't...he was afraid to scare you off. It was clear you hadn't liked people so ... would you like him?

this is NOTHING I've ever written b4, I hope it's good.... @candiiee

[stardancerluv]

What the Emperor Wants

Part Ten

Summary: Out in the country, feelings are revealed.

Notes/Warnings: 18+ mentions of arousal, dated beliefs in god/s, dated beliefs between men & women. Art/photos of sculptures used in collage are to display & give an example of some possible moments that take place in the chapter.

❤️s, comments, feedback, reblogs are all welcome and appreciated. It’s a longer chapter, but didn’t want to interrupt some of its flow. Thank you for reading! ❤️

There were so many people at the Villa, you were taken aback. So you were grateful for Aelia, at least you knew her. She showed you around while Geta tended to some matters.

Feeling terribly flustered, you found yourself outside. You smiled, spotting a small pond. Gathering your clothes, you sat down beside it. The sun was warm and the grass was soft. Seeing little fish swimming made you smile.

Leaning closer to get a better look at them, you saw your own reflection. You gasped. You had not realized how much of a lady you had become. You wondered, if your mother would recognize you. Did being around the emperor truly do this to you?

“There is the sweetest blossom of Rome. She is near fresh water. Neptune, I pray does not see you and fall in love.”

You blushed and glancing back at the clear, water smiling as a fishes swished by.

“Geta, such honey like words. Be careful we should not upset the gods.”

“I merely hope he realizes my gratitude to have such a blossom such as you.”

Your cheeks remained aflame with his words

“You are in touch with them more than I. Surely, they are aware of your true emotions.”

“I certainly hope so.”

With a soft sound, pushed himself away from the tall tree that had given you shade and he drew close; his clothes brushed you as he knelt near you.

“I already feel the good humors for being here.”

“It is the same for me. Though, I fear I may lose my way in those hallways at least once while we are here.”

You shyly looked away. A chuckle from Geta made your cheeks feel warmer.

“I had to reorient myself as well.”

Your eyes grew as you looked back at him. “Truly?”

He nodded. “Yes, I have some new furniture, works of art that have acquired since I was last here. Accommodations were also made for you.”

“I hope I wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

He shook his head. “Not at all.”

********

He swallowed, the good humors filled him to brim when he was around you. It made him restless. Made him want to do a great many things.

He slipped his hand into the folds of his clothing. His fingers easily found the small pocket that had been sewn into several of his garments. Usually he carried with him a small leaf, that he would urge Caracalla to chew on when he had one of his fits or just fretted.

Now, it held something different. A little trinket. A bracelet. He had been looking at the jewelry that he had debated wearing at the villa. It was the least he could give you for saving his life.

“Geta, are you alright?”

He rose his eyebrows. “Yes? What? Why do you ask?”

As he glanced at you he could see concern splashed on it.

“You appeared to be elsewhere, you had grown silent.”

“I am good. Very good.” He nodded. He let his fingers brush against the small treasure a final time.

“I have a gift for you.” Geta said softly.

Glancing around, he did not know why, it was not as if he cared for the words or thoughts of others. Drawing closer to you, where you sat by the pond.

“It is not everyday when one takes an active hand in saving my life. I found this treasure.”

He took his closed hand from the folds of his clothes. He opened it. The sun rays happy danced on its accents. It was lovely, gentle like you were. Not has bold as some of the pieces him or Caracalla would wear.

“Oh, Geta. I…I don’t know what to say. Such finery for me.” Your voice shook.

It caused him to inwardly tremble.

“Do you like it?”

“I do. It’s just, by the gods I never even wished.”

“That is why your emperor has bestowed it upon you, not them.”

“Yes. You have.”

“Allow me then to slip it on you.”

You nodded. “Please. I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

Easily he moved the metals as they should. He grazed his thumb over the bracelet.

“I like it. I chose wisely.” He placed your hand back into your lap.

“Oh, it is wonderful.” You brought your hand to your shoulder.

“Very fitting for one who saved me.” He smiled.

He watched as your eyes twinkled, your face became as brilliant as the sun above. His heart raced he wanted to kiss you. He would.

You trembled at the suddenness of it. But then he felt as you melted against him. Your lips responded to his.

Easily, moving just the right way he hung over you as you easily laid back. Your hair became even richer in color as the loose strands from the ribbons laid in abandon against the soft green grass. His heart beat harder as he hung over you, he anchored one of his hands in the soft earth.

Breaking the kiss so he may take a breath and allow you one as well, he smiled as you reached up and your fingers nestled in his hair.

Drawing close to you once more, his nose, his lips grazed your cheek. “You are as lovely as any nymph lucky enough to have caught the eye of a god.” He whispered in your ear. “But tell me dear nymph you will give chase and make me chase you?”

He pulled back so he could look at you as you spoke.

“Only if he wishes it.”

He smiled. “Good. Right now, I do not. I do not wish to live the tale of the mighty Apollo and Daphne.”

As he spoke those words he saw your eyes become watery.

“You know of their story.”

You nodded.

He swallowed. The words came and knot that had been tightening unbeknownst to him loosen ceased to be.

“My dear blossom.” He whispered in your ear. “I have come to care. Perhaps, my elation, my tenderness is from all that transpired. But, I promise to take care of you and devote my affections solely to you. Please do not wither into a tree where all I can do is only admire from afar.”

A tear slipped from one of your eyes. “No, I promise, as long as we can share a tenderness I will not take root and become a mere tree.”

His lips met yours.

********

You felt wonderfully rejuvenated. He had ordered a bath for the two of you. Any of the knots that had held over from the carriage ride were now gone. Now, candles flickered making shadows dance as the two of you lounged and ate.

Occasionally, you couldn’t resist looking at your wrist where the bracelet twinkled. You would not worry about what may or may not happen when you would be seen wearing it.

“How long will we be here at the villa?”

Geta, shrugged. “A few days at the very least. I already feel much better and it’s only been a day.”

You nodded and happily nibbled on the fish that was on your plate. It was fresh, mich fresher than what was served at the Domus in the city. It reminded you of the fresh fish your mother would serve your family.

“It is very different than the city. I had forgotten one can hear bird calls floating on the breeze.”

“They sound different than in the city.”

You nodded once again. “There they only know of their cages.”

“Beautiful cages, I had an artist craft a lovely one.”

“They were lovely and safe in it.”

A rich chuckle came from Geta, you glanced at him.

“Dondas, is also not harassing any of them here.”

You giggled. “Dondas is cute.”

Geta rose an eyebrow. “He’s a menace.”

“At least he makes Caracalla happy.”

“That is true.” He took a sip from his wine. “Speaking of animals, have you ever ridden on a horse?”

You looked off as if you could see the moment. “Only once.”

You still could remember the feel of the animal, how your mother had controlled the straps of rope used to control the animal.

“Oh?”

“The day, I learned how to treat a wound. My mother had snatched me up when she went to retrieve what was needed. I was small enough to ride with her and hold the items.”

“You need to have a real ride.” A pleased look came over him.

You watched as he pressed his lips together, while glancing at his arm. “Should you look at it again?”

“Yes. We don’t want darkness to seep in.”

“I will have them fetch whatever you need.”

*******

“Aelia?” You glanced at the woman who stood by the door. “Do you wish to watch me check on our Sire’s arm?”

“Oh? Yes. This is very fascinating. Never seen anything like it.”

He slipped from the top of his robe. The soft fabric pooled around his waist. His chest, resembling some of the carved statues you had seen in the gardens.

“It may still sting.” You said softly as you met his eyes.

He nodded.

Gently, you peeled back the cloth. It looked good. Not dark. Soon you poured some of the vinegar and clear oil on it to clean it.

Geta hissed.

You glanced at him under your lashes. “It doesn’t hurt too much does it?”

“I do not like it. I will be fine.”

******

You reached up to the broach that was the cause for all of this. Your finger traced the edge of it.

Geta’s and Aelia’s voice were only murmurs to you has you stood by window that led to balcony. Should you undo the clasp that held the fabrics of your clothes together, you wondered.

He had not dismissed you. Did he need you? A flutter excitement filled you. How he had wanted to be you before the party had stolen your breath. Apart of you should be scandalized, you were no harlot despite being his but it had felt so good. you enjoyed being joined with him.

You gasped as a warm hand settled on your stomach and you were pulled close. You’d know his strong frame now anywhere.

“My sire.”

An admonishing sound came from him. He was so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Geta, my emperor you wish to be this close?”

You turned your head just enough to see the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips.

“I do.”

You felt as he held you tighter against him. A gasp came from you as his arousal pressed against you. Your heart squeezed. Not in fear but in anticipation.

A soft, low chuckle came from him. “You feel what you have done to me.”

You nodded.

“You have entranced my loins.”

“I have?” You managed. “You have quickened my heart.”

“Oh? Have I?” His voice grew deeper.

You felt as his hand drifted up your torso, which made it beat harder.

“My emperor?” You breathed.

“I want to feel.” His hand then laid where it beat. A soft sound came from him. “I enjoy causing this response in you.”

You trembled as his hand then slipped under the soft fabric that had been wrapped around and draped from you. It was even warmer and softer feeling as it laid against your skin. His rings were a cool contrast.

Lightning then streaked across the ebony sky, and thunder crashed as if drums from all over were struck. Without a thought, a cry of surprise came from within you and turning you nestled against Geta. You easily found his throat and hid your face there. He smelled of honey, fruits. It was very pleasing, it felt right.

You felt as his hand rubbed your back. “My little blossom. Jupiter is just sharing his pleasure with us. From his perch in the sky above, he saw and heard us. He gave us his blessing.”

You didn’t move you. “Even though, I am just a girl who was blessed that you made me yours.” You whispered.

Despite the twinges of worry that prickled you, deep inside the desire to press your lips to his throat grew.

He chuckled. “Jupiter is very pleased. I saw you and made you mine, just as he goes after what he wants.”

The sky once again brightened as lightning streaked across once again, thunder rumbled not long after.

Hearing his words, you felt reassured. Making Jupiter happy was above all. Geta followed close to the mighty Jupiter. You felt such a great honor in all of this.

Following your urges, you pressed your lips to his throat.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @laura-naruto-fan1998 @helsa3942

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

[nickmarini]

Hi! I absolutely loved you in Downfall and it was incredible to see the rp chemistry you have with Brennan. I’m sure his long running home game that you’re a player in is very special and I was wondering if there are any standout moments that you’d be willing to share!

Huge fan, hope to see you in the d20 dome some day!

Thank you so much! Brens home game is so special and has been a massive part of my life. There are some truly insane moments, one of my last roles was maybe the most epic roll I have ever made but that would require an essay to explain lol. I think it’s deserving of a fireside telling.

One of the funniest moments of tormenting Bren was when in a fight against a bunch of fairies, one of them cast globe of invulnerability. In 3.5 tiny creatures get a large penalty to grappling. My character rides a huge sized gryphon. Huge creatures get an conversely large bonus to grapple.My gryphon simply flew over and grappled the fairy by attempting to eat it. I then flew around the battle fighting a bunch of sorcerers with a mobile globe of invulnerability emanating from its mouth. Bren was not happy about it.

One time we were attacking this evil wizard/sorcerers tower in the middle of the ocean and when we arrived cast a bunch of buff spells to get ready to fight. Bren then described that where we entered was a long staircase and 10+ min later we were still climbing and all our buffs had expired 😂🤣 it was a dastardly piece of architecture by a wizard who knew his durations.

But honestly so many of the truly standout moments came from being with my best friends of 15 years sitting around a table playing a game. Crying over losing an npc or jumping for joy over a much needed win. As much as I love mechanics and some good dice rolling nothing beats telling a story with your friends and loved ones, or walking into the apartment where you’re going to play for the first time in 6 months and seeing people you love. We tell stories because stories help build community and those communities are what will always stand out most to me.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Boyfriend!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : established relationship ; reader and Seungmin have only been dating for like 3 months ; Seungmin is a sweetie ; slight angst but mainly fluff ; Word Count : 1.7k Request : L ☆ : I was wondering if you could pleaseee do something fluff and sweet (just like him) with seungmin idk if you want to throw some angst in there, is up to you. thank u very much. A/N : slowly but surely making my way through requests! I got an offer for a job interview (at the time that I was writing this, I'm sure that I'll post about it before this comes out though) I'm so excited though!!

“I want to take you on a date…” Seungmin muttered through the phone, his voice quiet as if he were trying to hide it from the other guys that he was the sweetest, cutest, softest boyfriend in the whole world. “I’ll pick you up tonight. Make sure you bring a jacket, it’s cold.” He finished the call rather swiftly, and you were used to calls going like this, it made it easier for you, especially since you couldn’t get enough of his voice and your mind would always go fuzzy whenever you listened to him. 

As soon as you were sure that the call had ended and the line was disconnected, you allowed yourself a moment to let out a squeal of excitement, clutching your phone to your chest and jumping around in the center of your apartment. Some people would say that you were overly excited considering he and you had been dating for 3 months already, but you on the other hand found no issue in feeling like every date was like the first date. It just meant that you liked him, and you hoped that he felt the same way. 

///

“Dinner was nice, thank you.” You whispered as you walked beside Seungmin. The sidewalks were busy, lined with other couples who had the same idea. You kept close to him though, your fingers practically brushing along one anothers, but they never latched together. 

“Mmhm…” He hummed back, glancing down at you and then straight forward once again. Sometimes it felt like he was getting tired or bored, but you’d calm that thought just as fast as it appeared, reminding yourself constantly that he chose you, and if he didn’t truly enjoy being with you he could leave whenever he wanted. “Are you cold?” He asked when he felt your body shiver, a particularly strong gust of wind making its way through the fabric of your coat. “We can get hot cocoa?” 

“Mm… I’d like that.” You smiled sweetly up at him, unaware that he had been looking down at you again until your eyes met, and you saw the blush on his cheeks darken, although you were sure he’d blame it on the chill.

Seungmin nodded, leading the way to the cafe, making sure to still stay close to you though as the streets seemed to become more and more crowded. “Do you want to sit inside?” He asked when you both finally got to the small building, which hadn’t been that far, but in the sea of people it seemed to take forever to get there. 

“Yes, please.” Your voice was so soft, he had to lean in closer just to hear you, the proximity had you both heating up and Seungmin quickly pulling away as he obviously tried to hide the smile that was pulling at the corners of his lips. “I can order the drinks while you find a table?” You offered, but he shook his head, sending you a knowing smile.

“I invited you on this date, I’m paying for the drinks. Go find the table.” He motioned towards the empty booth at the back of the cafe, and if there was one thing you knew, it was to not try to argue against him, you’d never win. It wasn’t from personal experience, but the other guys had filled your ears with many stories. So you made your way over, shimmying out of your coat and playing it beside you before sliding into the booth and watching Seungmin make his way up to the counter. 

As he made his way over to the table, you could see that his eyes weren’t on you, not that you minded, you didn’t want him staring at you, but it’s like his focus was on something else completely. When you followed the direction of his gaze, you saw that it was perfectly pointed at a girl at the table that was right beside yours. She was gorgeous, and while you weren’t usually the type to be self conscious, you couldn’t help but feel that way when you looked at her. She was there with her boyfriend, but Seungmin was definitely one of the most attractive guys you had found yourself lucky to date. That and he was an idol, you were sure that if given the opportunity, any woman would jump at the chance to be with him. 

“Be careful… It’s hot…” He said a little too quietly, it was more like a mumble, like his mind was stuck in some faraway land while his body was unfortunately at the table in this cafe with you. It felt like he was uninterested, he might as well just pull out his eyes and place them at the table with the other girl since he couldn’t seem to look away from her. 

“I can go…” You mumbled, your head lowering to try to hide the embarrassment that you knew was clearly written across your face. Truthfully, you didn’t want it to be a suggestion, you wanted to leave. There was no one in their right mind that would enjoy sitting across the table from their significant other who couldn’t keep their eyes off someone else. Maybe this was his way of telling you that he wanted to see other people, he was just doing it in the most literal way possible. 

“Huh?” He slowly turned to look at you, his head tilted to the side and his eyebrow’s furrowing. “Why?” The fact that he could still act so clueless, like he didn’t know the exact reason for you wanting to leave, was just a little bit agitating. “Do you want to go? I can walk you back to your place… I just thought that you’d want to spend a little longer together.” His eyes were now burning into the top of your head that had been lowered with embarrassment. 

“I… I don’t want to spend time with someone who just wants to look at other women.” Your voice was quiet, far too quiet, and you wondered if Seungmin had even heard you over the music that was playing over the speakers. “If that’s what you want to do, fine… But… Don’t invite me out on a date and do it.” You hated how weak you sounded when you called him out, it definitely didn’t sound as strong as you wanted it to. You probably sounded just as pathetic as you felt right now. 

There was a silence that filled the small bubble that seemed to surround the table that you both were sitting at. It was tension filled, and you felt queasy just from being in it a little bit too long. “What are you talking about?” He asked, trying to keep his voice as quiet as yours was, but his worrying had his voice cracking and rising in pitch, causing him to be louder than he wanted to be. “I’m… God, this is stupid…” He muttered, running his hand through his hair as he leaned back in his chair, his head tilted back far enough to stare up at the ceiling. 

“It is stupid…” You agreed, grabbing your coat and folding it over your elbow as you got up from the table, unbothered by the nighttime chill that you knew would be just outside the cafe doors. You were already heated enough, you felt like you were sweating. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Seungmin.” You gave him the parting words, trying to sound unfazed, but the lump in your throat was building and it felt like your air was being choked off. 

Seungmin wasn’t one to make a scene, and that’s the only reason he didn’t get up and grab your hand to pull you back. He wasn’t into PDA, he wasn’t one to really outwardly show his emotions in general, but watching you walk away had him panicking. “Dammit!” He hissed, grabbing both cups of hot cocoa and rushing out the door after you, trying his best not to spill them in the process. “Can you listen to me, please?” 

He had caught up with you, it didn’t even take him long, he was far better at navigating through large groups of people than you were. Sadly, he had caught you at a moment when it had been just long enough for you to have started crying. “I don’t want to hear about how pretty she was. I know how pretty she was. I know that I can’t be her, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you have to be seen with me and not someone as gorgeous and perfect as she was.” 

His eyes were blinking rapidly as he stared at you, his mouth agape, sharp breaths coming out in little tufts of smoke in the cold winter air. “Oh… No… No! That’s… You’re wrong.” He said, his head shaking as the words rushed out of his mouth. “I’m stupid… And I didn’t want to tell you because it’s embarrassing… I wanted you to think I was cool and… And I… I was looking because I wanted to know what to do.” Now it was your turn to be confused, your eyebrows lowering as you waited for him to explain further what the hell it was that he meant by that. “I’m not… good. I’m not good at dates, I’m not good at this…” He motioned between the two of you, sighing dejectedly, his entire body seeming to hunch forward with shame. “I just wanted to do it right… I thought if I watched them I could figure out how to make you smile and laugh and be happy the way she was with her boyfriend.” 

“Minnie…” You whispered out the little pet name that always flustered him when you used it, and this time was no different, his cheeks once again turning a light shade of pink when you said it. “You don’t have to study how other couples are on their dates. You don’t have to be like other guys… If I wanted you to be like them, I would just be with them. I like being with you though, because you do make me happy and you make me laugh and you make me smile. You’re perfect… That’s why I was so worried… I don’t want to lose you…” 

“And you won’t… You’re not.” He reassured you quickly, like his entire life depended on those words leaving his mouth and being heard by you. “I’m sorry I made you worry… I’m sorry I was so stupid… Can we continue our date now? I really wanted to spend more time with you… If you’d like. It’s up to you though.” 

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[thesiltverses]

Hello! Writing first to thank you for such an extraordinary creation - as a piece of writing and even more so in performance. Every episode manages to somehow build on and outdo the last; you navigated that transition from a smaller scale story of grisly mysteries and personal crises of faith to a grand scale of war, revolution and political satire with absolute aplomb, and never lost that throughline of exceptional characterisation and sharp writing, always steering to the most interesting conflicts. You are always very humble in your public comments, but I hope you allow yourself a little pride, because this is absolutely top notch stuff.

I was struck by Paige's final words, that she hopes what they left would be found 'flawed, inadequate, yearning'. As the show went on, I was surprised - in a good way - that the show's politics gradually crystalised into a full-on nihilist anarchism, something perhaps even along the lines of Monsieur Dupont. (Muna used the 'a' word in one of the Q&As but it was pretty evident even before that). Taking these gods as a metaphor for ideologies and social systems, the scope of it becomes pretty universal - and unsparing. And, equally, hard to answer.

I wondered when the Many Below/Wound Tree was introduced what answers they would find: what political movement could truly resist cooption or becoming its own horrible self-sustaining egregore. And in the end the answer you express I suppose is a negative one: that even Paige's god of victims is a tool, one that must eventually be discarded to go into some unknown place beyond it all (to walk away from Omelas), towards something that narrative fiction - as a form of the 'endless words' that are derided so much in the third season - can no longer address. Which I respect - to pose the question is vital, even if the tools can't reach any answers if they even exist.

I think this struggle exists in many stories that address themes of making a break from the rapacious society that created them (and take it seriously) - your Baru Cormorants and Mononoke-himes. We can describe the problem vividly, but since we do not have a counterexample to hand, any story we tell about ~what is to be done~ and what it will look like when it is feels like it will be just as hollow as the spins and angles and parasitic fantasies that so many characters advance in the Silt Verses. (How could there possibly be a time where it finally works out, after we have seen all this? But then, what are we living for?)

To try to make this a question and not a ramble, I wanted to ask - what do you see as the role of fiction in addressing the horrible machinery of this world? Is it enough to pose the question particularly sharply, skewer the bad and inadequate answers, and leave the readers/listeners to figure out how to make the killing of gods concrete? How do we punch through the bounds of it all being Content, another product to be bought and sold? What does it mean to sit here and fantasise about people making that revolutionary break when there is no revolution to be had?

I don't know what answer I'm hoping for here, but given the themes of the show, I feel like this must be a kind of thing you've thought about, and probably have a far more developed line of thought than I do. And if this is a bit too much to drop in your inbox on a Saturday morning, I will say again thank you for writing this story and all the actors for making it so strikingly concrete - it truly means a lot, and I will treasure it.

Hi, and thank you for listening and for a beautifully written and thoughtful ask! ('Horrible machinery of the world' stopped me dead in my tracks.) And I am very proud, genuinely.

I don't have a good enough answer to your questions, and for me a lot of TSV is very much about trying to figure those answers out, but let me try and sum up my perspective bit by bit.

Is it enough for fiction to pose the question, without also proposing the answer?

I don't think it's enough for fiction as a collective body of work.

I'd argue there's probably a tendency towards open-endedness and irresolution in these individual narratives simply because it feels like a more honest acknowledgement that in real life, the foe has yet to take a real body blow and will not go down easy; that the foe, in fact, is the marketplace for the work itself and ironically profits from the popularity of stories with easy heroic victories over villains who represent capitalism. That these stories inevitably become a pleasant consumable that serves our complacency within the belly of the beast, a kind of daily tonic to reassure us that good always triumphs and regular people always come out on top.

I also think that the sheer scale and scope of the topic creates its own challenges; you probably can't engage thoroughly enough with both the dystopian question and your ideas for a utopian answer all in a single story, without ultimately turning the latter into that false reassurance, a quick handwave of a happy ending.

You mention Omelas, and I think we could illustrate the problem by looking at how LeGuin handles her two successive masterpieces:

The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, which gives us the titular resource-rich u(dys)topia built on invisible suffering, and the dissidents who turn their backs on that world and walk out into the inhospitable wilderness in search of something better.

The Dispossessed, which as its premise gives us Anarres, an imperfect but sympathetic anarchist society whose adherents turned their backs on a neighbouring world of capitalist plenty to live out in the inhospitable wilderness in search of something better.

Anarres can very reasonably be viewed as LeGuin's direct answer to the question posed by Omelas, and she would have likely had it in her mind already as she wrote Omelas. But if the short story had ended with 'I hear that against all odds, the ones who walk away have successfully founded an anarchist utopia where hardship is everywhere but it's shared as equitably as possible. THE END', the amount of lazy shorthand and empty comfort involved in that happier ending would inevitably make it a dishonest and unserious offering.

Instead, Anarres is a starting premise to be interrogated at length over the course of a separate story, rather than a happy ending to simply reassure the reader that better things are possible - and even at the end of the novel LeGuin's unresolved questions are still very similar to the ones that we're left with in Omelas (and the same questions that I feel like we were knocking about in The Silt Verses, and which I guess you could argue are all lingering concerns at the end of Mononoke, as well): how and where can we find space to create and sustain a genuine alternative when the narrative environment of capitalism is so powerfully all-subsuming and constantly growing to fill the space? Do we need to disconnect entirely, vanishing as if dead? If we disconnect, how can we possibly survive and what inhumanities or ethical compromises will be required of us? If we do survive, is our isolationism a dereliction of human responsibility to those left behind?

All of which is to say that I think present-day fiction absolutely can make the attempt to meaningfully explore potential alternative-utopian solutions in more depth and with far more tangibility than we attempted with TSV - but that dystopian fiction like ours which concludes with the unexplored promise of a revolutionary utopia and the vague reassurance that the irrepressible human spirit will figure things out from here on out (Chewbacca gets a medal, everyone's in the streets wearing a Guy Fawkes mask) doesn't do much more than dramatically undermine its own goal of disrupting the audience's comfort.

That said, one of my big regrets this season was that we didn't succeed in more engagingly exploring and articulating the Woundtree camp's development into a flawed but functioning society in Dispossessed fashion ahead of the ending. That was my intention, but what quickly became clear was that in a dramatic format, with a limited cast, it was just endless static meeting-room scenes with Paige and Elgin discussing difficult responses to impossible challenges, while everyone else was out having dynamic and exciting adventures with lots of fun and exciting gods. Dystopias remain too entertaining for utopias' own good.

What do you see as the role of fiction in addressing the horrible machinery of this world?

I believe that absurdist horror fiction specifically, founded on the principle of 'people in a world that makes no sense, deluding themselves that it definitely does make sense' can play a very powerful role in that stated purpose.

Many horror traditions carry the baggage of inbuilt or inadvertent conservatism - the concept of a peaceable, passive, safe, middle-class Normality which is then disrupted by a terrifying outside threat (alien, ultra-foreign, ultra-low-class, underworldly, wild, etc). But absurdist horror very directly identifies Normality as the true source of our terror and very directly confronts our human response to it. It creates the right environment for us to ask all of the good questions. Isn't this an unsustainable nightmare we're living in? Why are we expending so much energy pretending it isn't? How do we get out and what do we do if we can't?

Probably the only listener reaction that's genuinely frustrated me about both of our shows is the folks who come away turning their noses up at the bluntness of that approach and acting like they've Solved The Art simply for figuring out where our broad sympathies lie. "Hm, just listened to The Silt Verses and I understood it at once; it's clearly trying to say that capitalism is bad. A little heavy-handed in its messaging for my liking, hm-hm!"

Not to go full Garth Marenghi, but for me the directness of the provocation and the obvious outrageousness of the nightmare is the point; it then allows us to go to places that other genres (or more understated critiques) generally can't.

How do we punch through the bounds of it all being Content, another product to be bought and sold? What does it mean to sit here and fantasise about people making that revolutionary break when there is no revolution to be had?

God, I don't know.

Maybe it means nothing; maybe we can't punch through; maybe there is no story unruly enough to be truly unco-optable, and therefore even the most radical fiction ultimately serves as a distraction, a placebo, a reassurance (that we are not alone, that better things are possible) which will impact the wider world more by keeping us subscribed to the Kindle app than by any action we might feel inspired to take.

Amazon is paying Boots Riley to make TV shows. Disney won much praise for delivering a revolutionary fantasy in a Star Wars shell. Apple is funding excellent, discomfiting and furious corporate satires about how we happily ignore invisible worker abuses for the sake of our own lifestyles, but they also cannot be considered accountable for the deaths of Congolese child-labourers in the global cobalt supply chain. The Dispossessed is in development as a limited series and the LeGuin estate are closely involved.

The master doesn't just own the tools, he's been buying up the guillotines as well.

What if, as with the unknowable nothingness outside of Omelas, the only art that cannot be reduced to product in net service of the status quo is the art that's so invisible and inaccessible and disconnected as to not exist at all? Does being relatively small and ramshackle really lend us any ideological purity, any genuine detachment? You can listen to The Silt Verses on Apple and Spotify and Amazon Music. Brought to you by Acast.

Chapter 36 with Dev and Seb was to a large extent intended as an articulation of that worry. To what extent can we still trust in the integrity of a sincere love story (one that we want to believe in) it if takes place in an insincere and predatory environment? Can any meaningful story be told honestly within such a space?

This stuff really worries me. I think it's probably right to worry. I don't know the answer. I do know that there are some folks for whom the show has made a tangible difference in terms of their life's direction, and that's a huge comfort to me.

There was someone who said it helped them find their faith, strangely and wonderfully. Someone else who said it contributed to their decision not to go down a more lucrative career path within what they view as an exploitative industry. (I hope they don't regret that decision; I hope it makes them happy.)

So there's something there. Maybe.

[pressureplus]

Hey!!

Love you writing, and say your ask box was open!

Was wondering if you could do headcannons for Seb with a partner(who’s also an experiment) who’s extremely scared of physical contact, basically helping them recover and learn to find comfort with each other?

Just thought it was a cute idea and would love to see some headcannons for it!!

keep up the awesome work!!

Hi! Thank you, we have a lot of fun writing things for you all, and we adore this fish as much as everyone here💕 I LOVE these kind of Headcannons, comfort is one of my personal favorite kinds of things to write for! Hope you like it! 💕💕💕

(Also, I didn't know if you wanted romantic or not, so I pinpointed where the platonic stuff stops and the romance begins for y'all)

Sebastian Solace x Experiment Reader Headcannons

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, Mentions of Violence, Injury, Blood, Trauma, and Touch Related Issues

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

• You only really met because you needed his help

• Had you not found yourself wounded, hungry, and on the brink of death, you'd never have trusted any creature that could take Pandemonium in a fight

• But, as you may have guessed, the stars aligned in your favor and you gained a friend

• The things that had made you the thing you are today gave you a less than ideal relationship with the idea of being touched

• Your old cell, a less so opinion of being in confined, cornering spaces

• Sebastian had been pissed when you writhed and shrieked and fought him when he was trying to tend your wounds

• Almost gave up on you immediately and turned you out, grabbing you by the shoulders and nearly heaving you back into the vent you'd drug yourself through in the first place

• It was the fear in your eyes that changed his mind, something that was familiar to him in a way that ran deep

• it was his own looking back at him

• You had to tend all your own injuries, but he did make a point to slide you the med kits instead of wrestling you or throwing them

• Was surprised when you pulled through, honestly, and even more surprised when you returned that night after your first outing in weeks to sleep in the space he'd give you to recover in

• By this point, he'd grown fond of having the company, finding his own comfort in the familiarity and shared experiences you two had

• The Expendables don't understand what it's like to be in this place the way it was, they don't understand getting experimented on like this, being conditioned a certain unnatural way, being mistreated and seen like monsters

• The researchers and scientists and actually valued UrbanShade Personnel could never understand either, finding some sort of honor or privelege in getting to aid such a massive, self-justified name like the one this god forsaken company holds over its own head

• Not even the other creatures here could relate to him, unable to speak, many of them truly mindless and animalistic- if not those things than things people were afraid to disrespect for fear it would lash out, a luxury that Sebastian and Yourself never got to know on account of the fact they all knew you to be prisoners and knew you to be weak to one thing or another

• Painter was close, but never human. The only one willing to speak to him like a person... Still yet unable to connect with for not knowing what it is to have been human and to have it taken

• But you understand him.

• You two were treated alike, coming from similar backgrounds, coming from places that would never prepare you for this

• You both need that connection, and he knows that when you pull yourself into his shop. The same way you know this when he slides your food forward for you to have in the evenings

• Touch isn't natural to you anymore, nor is it to him, so no matter how much you both want it, you stay distant

• Your voice suffices for a long while, finding the bond you grow to share in old stories from the world that was taken from you and in time spent helping him run his shop and in dreams to feel the sunlight on your new scales

• This new skin has never known sunlight, but it is starting to know kindness, isn't it?

• "Would it be too far for me to hold your hand? Would it be strange?"

• The first hurdle you have to jump on your recovery is still at distance, hesitantly and awkwardly pushing your hand against his own, sitting stiffly on opposite ends of a desk and refusing to look at one another

• It's not comfortable, but it gets the job done, right? A good step in the right direction!

• God the road to recovery is long =_=

• The first time it happens on its own seems to surprise you both, it's a hand on your back when he leans around you to grab for some of the data on the table in front of you for sorting

• Both of you were a little stiff about it, but it was quick and had a purpose, so it wasn't torture

• A neutral experience, but not bad!

• After this, it eases into being natural

• Brushing hands, correcting a strand of hair for him, patting you on the shoulder- even playful little hip bumps when you two get comfortable enough

• Like ice, the wall between you melts away as you fall into rhythm with your shared life

• It starts to feel nice when he gives you attention like that

• Those big clawed hands stop being scary, and you can no longer imagine why you were very frightened when he reaches forward to boop your nose and call you a stupid little idiot for dropping something

• Is never going to be completely nice to you, did you forget the man you decided to marry harass is mean?

• If you don't feel anything for him further than things that are platonic this is where your life together mellows and settles, into a comfortable spot where you two take care of each other and support one another, everything one another has

• If you feel more?

• It's laughing and joking, and all at once you break through the surface tension in ways you never thought you were ever going to have again

• You share a kiss.

• It's hard to tell who leaned in first, but before you can even think about it, your lips are warm and your mind is buzzing

• It's slow and steady and light, hands coming up to cup your face so softly and gently

• Any place your hands rest on him, he leans into, purring and kissing at you as long as he can get away with

• His fins? Fluttering. His tail? Wagging. . . His heart is damn near stopped with how many skips it's taking

• Heart may as well be playing hopscotch, you better pull away before he hits the ground

• After this, you get to enjoy time cuddling and kissing and basking in what it feels like to be loved again

• He could never be more content than he is to be pressed against you

• Even in the bodies you're stuck in now, he could never be happier than this ❤️

[lady-griffin]

I'm curious, what are some of your favorite Timebomb headcanons?

I’m so sorry for this beyond late response; I really don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry.

I know my answer isn’t going to be “worth the wait,” but I still hope you (and others) find it interesting. Please bear with me and my somewhat incoherent thoughts as my love for these two has destroyed my brain.

Also, my answer is beyond long, but that shouldn't be a surprise to anyone.

My Favorite Timebomb Headcanons

They’re both bi.

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They’re always touching one another. Not so much in an inappropriate way (though they can get too handsy in public); this is more holding hands, cuddling, using each other as a cushion, etc.

When they’re bored or preoccupied, they'll start “fidgeting” - Ekko plays with Jinx’s hair, while Jinx plays with Ekko's hands.

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Jinx doodles on Ekko pretty much all the time, while Ekko straight up writes on Jinx - specifically notes and reminders to himself.

Basically, Ekko will already be in bed and suddenly he'll get idea for a project but doesn’t want to get up or he suddenly wakes up in the middle of the night and has to immediately write down his thoughts before he forgets them and well, Jinx is right there.

Jinx honestly only minds this when Ekko won’t let her wash off because he needs to figure out what he meant when he wrote down “hextech cheese sandwich solution to dogs” at 3am and obviously it being on her left shoulder is essential to figuring it all out.

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Jinx bites. Not so much in a sexy, bedroom kind of way (though yes, obviously that too); she just sees Ekko and has to go chomp.

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Ekko is slightly insecure about his height, which makes zero sense to Jinx. Seriously, what is he even talking about? Ekko is the perfect height – he’s within reach of her kisses (and bites).

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Jinx really, really, really loves Ekko’s arms and hands.

His whole everything does it for her; but boy, oh boy, does she have a thing for his arms and hands, especially his hands. The amount of self-control Jinx has when it comes to Ekko’s hands is truly something to behold.

-

Jinx runs cold while Ekko runs hot.

Jinx always wants to cuddle with Ekko in the winter because he’s her personal space heater and Ekko always wants to cuddle with Jinx in the summer because she’s a living ice cube. The two of them like to complain, but they're not fooling anyone; they love every second of the other clinging on to them.

OR

Jinx runs hot while Ekko runs cold.

Jinx gets uncomfortably warm, so she really enjoys being cold. Unfortunately, that’s quite rare for her nowadays due to her body producing its own shimmer; her body temperature is now basically someone with a deadly fever.

Ekko on the other hand easily gets cold and he absolutely hates it; so, he's not exactly mad at Jinx becoming a living furnace.

I’m honestly torn between these two versions and the vibes vs. 'evidence' backing them up. But does it really matter? At the end of the day one of them runs cold while the other runs hot and they balance each other out perfectly.

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The Firelight’s truly love Ekko; they're beyond thankful to him and everything he's done for them. So, despite the fact that many of them hate Jinx and want nothing more than for her to be gone (dead), they are willing to accept her because Ekko loves her.

Some of them will never forgive nor make peace with Jinx, but they’re willing to coexist with her; while others are willing to get to know her and even befriend her.

It’s not easy for any of them but for Ekko, they'll do it and as time goes on it becomes less of a struggle to accept Jinx.

I’m a huge fan of Jinx being accepted by the Firelights not because they actually accept her (at least at first) nor because they’re such wonderful, good people, but because they love Ekko. He’s their savior and guiding light and they want him to be happy and Jinx makes him happy - so, of course they'll do it.

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Jinx absolutely has a praise kink; she adores being praised and complimented in bed and Ekko has no problem indulging her.

I don’t have a single doubt about this. This is just fact.

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Despite being so gone for each other, they both have a lot of insecurities, particularly when it comes to the others’ feelings and commitment to the relationship.

Ekko is scared he’s just a convenience for Jinx and she’ll easily abandon him again; while Jinx is scared Ekko’s going to realize he doesn’t actually want to be with her, because why would he?

To make things a bit more heartbreaking, Jinx sometimes wonders if Ekko is only with her because she’s the closest thing to “Powder” he can be with.

They have a lot of issues and it took them many years to work through them; but those issues and insecurities still make an appearance from time for time.

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Ekko isn’t always great at taking care of himself; he’s always putting others first and he’s easily consumed by his projects and responsibilities.

But taking care of Jinx forces him to take care of himself.

He can’t argue she should go to bed at a reasonable hour, when he’s up at the same godforsaken hour she is nor can he complain about her eating unhealthily, when he’s eating the exact same thing or something worse.

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Ekko is always running late; while Jinx (to many people’s surprise) is either on time or very early. When the two of them arrive late together, it’s because Jinx didn’t want to go to the thing and she succeeded in distracting Ekko (usually with sex).

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Being together was one of the easiest things for them as they’re two pieces who fit perfectly together; at the exact same time though it was also the most difficult thing for them, due to their history.

Ekko has struggled with his feelings of guilt because it was so easy for him to be with Jinx and love her; he feels like he’s betraying his fallen friends and people. Jinx is responsible for many of their deaths and even when she wasn’t directly responsible, she still benefited as Silco’s daughter.  

Jinx has struggled with feeling like she’s betraying Silco and rejecting their bond as she doesn't talk about him for the sake of her relationship with Ekko. She can’t talk about Silco with Ekko at all, because anything negative about him (no matter how small) only confirms to Ekko she was abused and brainwashed; while anything positive or even neutral is like "attacking" Ekko and everything he's gone through.

Silco was the reason Jinx was happy and able to thrive over the years and he's the reason why Ekko suffered and struggled to survive during those same years.

While they never truly come to terms about Silco, they still try and make an effort to respect the other’s feelings for him.

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Gift giving is a huge part of how Jinx shows her love. She doesn't need a special occasion or reason to give Ekko gifts and she likes leaving them where he can come across them randomly. Her presents can be anything - from a cool rock she found to a specific piece of machinery Ekko wanted.

Oh and of course, a beyond valuable item she stole from some elitist Piltovan or vicious Chem-Baron who is more than willing to start a war over their stolen property.

Ekko knows she means well (at least he thinks she does); but he would appreciate it if she didn’t bring him and the Firelights more trouble with her gifts.

Which Jinx doesn’t fully understand.

It’s not that she doesn’t understand the value of things; but a cool looking rock and some wealthy Piltovan’s prized heirloom have the exact same value to her – she thought Ekko would like it, so why wouldn't she get it for him?

-

These two can be so beyond competitive it’s not even funny and nothing brings out their unhinged competitiveness than when they’re up against each other.

But they’re having fun and that’s all that matters in the end... ignore all the property damage and fires.

-

Sometimes when things get heated between them, Jinx gets a red blotchiness on her neck and chest; which she's more than embarrassed by. Ekko on the other hand tries to see if he can make her even redder and he’s more than smug when he can.

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Ekko wasn’t always a great boyfriend to his previous partners, not because he was an uncaring asshole or anything but because he never opened up to them. He never shared his problems nor did he let them take care of him; he was always the caretaker. It also didn’t help that he put his responsibilities as leader and other people before his relationships.

However, this isn’t a problem with Jinx. Ekko is quite selfish when it comes to their relationship. He’s not willing to put others’ first. Not this time. Not if it costs him Jinx.

Jinx also knows him far better than his previous partners did, she sees past the front he puts up for others and is more than willing to call him out on his bullshit. Plus, Jinx is in no way shy when it comes to her wants.

Ekko has also learned that if he doesn't rely on her, then she has no reason to rely on him. If he doesn't trust her, then she doesn't trust him.

Finally, Jinx tries to get Ekko to be more selfish, while this is for her own benefit (obviously), she genuinely wants Ekko to put himself first; she’s even willing to put herself second (at times), if that’s what it takes.

-

Over the years they balance each other out – Jinx makes Ekko more selfish and gives him the freedom to put himself first without feeling guilty, while Ekko makes Jinx less selfish and he's a good starting point for her to become more considerate to others.

Of course, Ekko will never be a selfish bastard who turns his back on his people and Jinx will never be a living saint who sacrifices herself for the greater good.

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Ekko usually takes the lead in the bedroom. He loves riling Jinx up and embarrassing her in bed; he’s particularly obsessed with getting her to beg him to keep going,

However, it doesn’t take much for Jinx to ‘turn the tables' on him; her ‘begging him' is a sure-fire way to get Ekko to unravel quickly, which Jinx is more than willing to exploit for her own fun and pleasure.

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Ekko accidently taught their kid(s) how to curse.

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They’re packrats.

These two are very attached to their things and look they might need that random useless thing one day, you don’t know, they obviously can’t throw it out.

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Jinx is very honest with their kid(s).

She doesn’t lie nor try to hide who she is nor who she was and what she’s done. Silco was always forthright with her; Jinx knew exactly who Silco was and loved him all the same and she wants the same for herself (Silco wouldn’t have accepted anything less for her).

She doesn’t want her child(ren) to love a fake version of herself; she wants them to know and love the real Jinx – monster and all.

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I honestly don’t think a threesome would be possible for these two; they’re way too jealous and obsessed with each other to let a third party involved. Especially Jinx.

Let’s be real, she would absolutely kill someone for touching her Ekko or if Ekko touched them she would 100% have the logic of “they can’t steal my Ekko if they’re dead.”

Now Ekko will never be as bad as Jinx (very few people can reach our girl’s levels) but I easily see him being like “No. Go Away. My Jinx.”

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I’m torn between Ekko being concerned by how much he finds Jinx’s unhinged jealousy, possessiveness, and intense (creepy) expressions of love to be charming and beyond endearing; or if he honestly doesn’t understand why people are weirded out and concern for his safety when Jinx says she wants to rip out his heart and feast upon it.

I hope you all enjoyed this insanely long list and maybe even accept a few of these headcanons as your own.

Thank you for reading this and thank you for the ask @nerdasaurus1200 and again, I'm so sorry for the years long wait.