#Instead of bashing others' things because its not what you want?

[author-main]

I'm still thinking about it, but if you hate a trope so much that you're just waiting to bash it why don't you just make your own shit instead.

[unagrancantidaddepanes]

people be like ugh im sick of people making content/posts of (insert ship) i miss when the fandom didnt have as many ship posts and thus was better but what if i was sick of THESE posts where people talk down to wonderfully made content and silly posts just because they look down on romantic relationships as less superior than other things and literally just complain that people are having fun with something that they dont personally like hmmmm what then 🤔🤔 what if i was sick of people being like i miss when people talked about other characters and would discuss theories as if all of those types of posts and fan content just EVAPORATES and disappears the moment a ship becomes popular like if you want to see owl house theories literally all you have to do is look up owl house theories its not that hard lmao. if you want to see fanart of little my just look up little my its not that hard lmao. just because lumity and snufmin are popular and your probably gonna see a lot of content of them if u just search up ‘the owl house’ or ‘moomin’ doesnt mean you cant just. specifically look up what you want lol, like im sorry your petty the thing YOU like isnt the most popular thing in the fandom, literally all you have to do is look up the thing you want instead of being upset you didnt get what you. didnt search for. like what where you expecting you didnt search for it 😭 im sorry the first result when you searched ‘moomin’  happened to be a snufmin fanart and not a snorkmaiden fanart because statistically there is more snufmin art than snorkmaiden art literally all you needed to do to find what you want is. look up snorkmaiden 💀 BEGGING THESE PEOPLE TO JUST LOOK UP WHAT THEY WANT LMAO and do not even get me started on when people make comments like this, not on public forums or their own posts, BUT DIRECTLY IN THE COMMENTS OF POSTS OR CONTENT PEOPLE HAVE MADE OF WHATEVER SHIP THEIR COMPLANING ABOUT, TO THE PERSON WHO MADE IT

drives me insane tbh, its literally just bashing and looking down on people for having fun and making content for something they like just because its not personally THEIR favourite thing, sometimes DIRECTLY TO THE FACES OF PEOPLE WHO MAKE THE CONTENT, like IMAGINE seeing a cute fanart of (insert ship) and commenting on it ‘god it makes me so sad how much worse this fandom is now because content of (insert ship) is the only thing you see in the fandom anymore’ LIKE???? WHY R U TALKING DOWN TO THIS PERSON ABOUT WHAT THEY WANT TO DRAW LMAO, JUST LOOK UP WHATEVER IT IS YOU WANTED TO SEE IM BEGGING YOU 😭 theres a difference between saying something like ‘!!!! i love theories !!!! i hope people make more theories in this fandom theyre awesome !!!!! :)’ and ‘ugh honestly so annoyed of there being so much lumity content, i miss when the fandom was better because there was less lumity content being made’ also a lovely reminder that here on tumblr there is a ✨block function✨ for tags and blogs that will, miraculously, fliter out whatever content it was that you didnt want to see <3

[imyourbratzdoll]

I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.

hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.

summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.

warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 

You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.

“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)

“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.

“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.

“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”

Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 

It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 

“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 

He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 

You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 

“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”

“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 

Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?

A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 

He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.

“Do you mean…?!”

Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[krypticcafe]

i wanna know how u think 141 + König & Alejandro would react/feel about reader doing this trend with them, ofc reader doesn't upload it or anything they just record it for fun :]

if the link doesn't work the trend is basically a person is putting on lipstick and they "mess up" and their s/o wipes it off for them and the camera pans to their s/o covered in kissmarks

this has been on my mind for a while i think its so sweet 🥲 i lovelovelove ur writing!! its so good lik oml <33

Lipstick trend w/COD:MWII men

rating: teen

character(s): Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound König, Alejandro Vargas / GN!Reader

warning(s): language, suggestiveness

wordcount: ~1.6k

summary: Silly little lipstick trend with your silly little military boyfriend.

a/n: the money I'd pay to kiss these men dizzy.

Gaz

Knew about the trend for a while, was wondering if you'd do it, so it's not much of a surprise when you come to him asking about it.

Honestly, he thinks it's a little cheesy, but he's not so insecure that he doesn't want to do it, he's happy to make you happy.

Literally won't stop teasing you like "You sure you're doing this just for the trend?" when you're smooching him all over his face.

When you're done, you can't but stare for a bit.

"What, too pretty for words, love?"

"Shut up, Garrick."

"Make me."

Now his lips are a bright red to match yours<3

The recording goes pretty smoothly, but by the end of it, Gaz can be seen bursting into giggles which in turn makes you giggle a little until the recording cuts off.

You guys don't post it publicly, but I like to think Gaz posted a screenshot of when the two of you are in frame, looking at each other with goofy smiles.

Price

The last person you'd expect to be up with any trends, but it's alright, you're here to help him!

He's hesitant, only because he's a bit bashful! When it comes to these silly little recordings and any of your playful schemes, he gets a little shy about it.

But if you really bat your eyes, pout a little, maybe even tug on his sleeve...

"Please? Just this once, sweetheart?"

He sucks in a deep breath. He's a captain for Christ's sake, he's resisted things worse than this, and no amount of hellish torture has ever made him crack in the slightes-

"Pretty please? For me, Johnny?"

What was he thinking about again?

He sits there while you practically bounce in your spot while you lather on thick layers of lipstick, wondering if this will haunt him.

But all his bashfulness goes out the window when you cup his face oh-so-gently, smother him with kisses, giggling about how ticklish his facial hair is, how it nearly messes you up, how you smile proudly at your work and at him.

You swear you won't post it because you know he can't risk his reputation as a captain... but you also know nothing is stopping you from bringing it up every now and then to him.

Pulling up the pictures and videos, smugly grinning and ogling them while he groans at how smug you are.

Real proud of that one, aren't you?

Soap

"So basically for the trend I just need to put on some lipstick, kiss yo-"

"Say less."

Literally he doesn't care what he has to do, this man wants his kisses.

He'll be all "You missed a spot" when you're applying the marks on his face.

Your guys' version of the trend is a little different.

Instead, the video starts with you putting on lipstick, Soap takes it, commenting how the shade would look good on him, applying it on his lips before smothering you with kisses in the video, leaving the two of you all covered in lipstick stains.

After you wiped your face off, you notice Soap hasn't.

He's just staring smugly at the mirror, rubbing his chin, talking about how "Y'know, I think this actually looks good on me" and "Think I'll keep it on for today, yeah?"

"Honey, you can't go out like that."

"An' why not? I'm jus' wearin' makeup."

"Don't be a smartass- hey! Get back here MacTavish!"

Every day that man tests your patience, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Ghost

"You won't budge until I say yes?"

You're sitting on his lap on the bed, keeping him still, batting your eyes with faux innocence. He could lift you off if he wanted, but he doesn't, and that alone is enough of an answer for you.

"Nope."

He's trying to pretend so much that he doesn't care too much about it, that he's just letting you do whatever you want. Obviously, he's just playing along.

However, it isn't until you kiss that particular spot of his neck just right under his jaw where the stubble stops that it escalates.

"Oh? Is the lieutenant feeling ticklish?" You coo.

"'m not ticklish-" He's cut off by more kisses peppered around the area and a few extra on his face.

"Mhm, really, because," You're giggling in between your words, "When I kiss you here," He forces the fakest cough he's ever made when you kiss the same spot against, nipping it slightly. All he can do is lean back into the couch, leg bouncing impatiently, trying to bite back a chuckle or two until he finally cracks. The two of you are in a quiet fit of snickers and giggles until you finally let up.

After making the video, you silently gush over it, replaying it over and over. There's a hint of redness on his cheeks, and his eyes seem to flicker from you to the camera, it's the most flustered you've ever seen him be and you got it all on tape, lucky you.

Roach

"That's so dumb, of course I wanna do it."

Roach is all for goofy little couples trends, so it's nothing new if you ask him to do another.

"Babe, stay still would you?" You pout, "I'm gonna have to start over if you keep squirming!"

"Mmm, I think I'd like that."

"Of course you would." Rolling your eyes, you pinch his cheek and he yelps, apologizing and letting you continue. He really can't help it though, it's really ticklish for him.

It takes maybe three tries for you to get the video right, ending with one where Gary messed up your makeup for you by swooping in to give you a sloppy smooch and clumsily wiping it only to further smear it while in a fit of giggles. He claims you were taking too long so he put matters in his own hands.

"So when do I get to do you?"

"What are you talking about, that's all there is- Gary!"

"Nuh-uh, c'mere!"

Hound

He's confused as ever but agrees to it on a whim since he's often entertaining your needs and wants anyways.

As you settle on his lap, his hands rest on your sides and he looks up at you with affectionate eyes. He was looking at you like that when you were putting on your lipstick, too. You almost don't want to ruin his pretty little face, but at the same time, you think it'd look so much prettier with your kisses all over it<3

His eyes close and he stays still while you mark his face all over, even when your lips tickle sensitive spots like his scars. Patient as ever.

When you pull away, he looks like such a doll for you. Your hands cup his face and his lashes flutter open, showing those big brown eyes still giving you the same adoring look, and your chest is basically hammering. He can probably hear it, too. He reaches up to hold your hands and presses his lips against the knuckles. You swear your heart just stopped.

"Everything alright, sugar?"

Oh fuck, what were you supposed to be doing?

"Mhm." You nod frantically, face burning while his thumb brushes over a knuckle, "Y-You know, maybe we can just... tonight... haha... holdmeplease?"

Yeah... you never did quite get your video.

König

"What, with me?" He asks, bewildered.

"Of course?? Who else am I going to do it with? Oh sure, let me call up Horangi, I bet he'll be happy to-"

"Nonono! I want to do it!"

Moments later, he's sitting on the edge of your bed, hood off, fidgeting awkwardly, and watching you quietly. Now you know what he meant when they told him he couldn't stay still for the life of him.

"König, honey, you act like I'm going to hurt you or something." You chuckle, popping your lips as you apply your lipstick in the mirror. He wasn't even this skittish in bed so what had him all jittery?

Setting your hands on his shoulders, you reassure him with a kiss first on the forehead. "Relax, I just want to take a video, that's all."

"Sorry schatz, I'll behave." He hums, easing up at your touch and you smile, planting kisses all over. It seems he just didn't know what exactly he was in for.

You show him how he looks on your phone, "Thoughts?"

"Not bad..." He attempts to wipe off the marks, but you swat his hand away from him.

"You think we're done, mister?"

"Huh?" Practically pouncing on him, you cut him off with a hungry kiss, hovering your body over his. What, he didn't seriously think all you wanted was a video, did he?

Alejandro

He snickers, "If you just wanted my attention, you could've asked."

"I'm serious, Alejandro, it's a thing!" You beam, pointing to the videos on your phone.

He jokingly dismisses your claim and settles onto his office chair, looking at you expectantly. You're confused for a moment, what was he staring at you for?

"Are we going to do this or not? Don't tell me it was actually an excuse now, mi vida."

"No!" You blurt, though now you're debating if you should do this or just leave him waiting with how much he wants to tease you. Then again, you can't pass up this opportunity.

While applying your makeup, you can spot him quietly admiring you in the corner of his eye, and it nearly throws you off your game.

As you kiss him, he keeps his eyes on you, a grin on his lips. Not for a single moment does he tear his attention away from you, instead pointing at a few spots for you to mark.

"I got it, I got it," You huff, mumbling to yourself, "You're certainly enjoying this, colonel..."

Post-production, when you get up to wipe off your lips, he looks at you with offense, "What, that's it?"

"Yes..?"

"Nonono, I think we need to do it again, my way, this time." He snickers, pulling you in by the waist.

"Your way? Alejandro!" You whine without fighting back as he pulls you in for a longer kiss, all your protests forgotten.

a/n: homies i kinda regret writing this so close to valentine's day haha...

[leonw4nter]

Hellooo, may I request reader dating a Spiderman! Leon (I'm such as a sucker for re2 Leon and the thought of him as spiderman) hcs??? He thinks he does a good enough job covering up his superhero identity, but unfortunately for him reader had that figured out for quite a while. He's not as sneaky/careful as he thinks he is hehe

So If You Need A Hero, Just Look In The Mirror!

[Spiderman!RE2!Leon x GN!Reader]

Leon has long been Spiderman before he decided to date you, hiding this aspect of him when he was courting you to let him be your boyfriend. He felt guilty that he had to hide his masked persona from you but he knows that it’s for the best in order to keep everyone close to him safe. An ordinary 21 year-old officer in blues by day, a web-shooting hero swinging from the buildings of Raccoon City by night.

You know that Spiderman exists and you admire him, doodling his mask on the corners of blank papers when the day is slow and idle; what you don’t know is that your boyfriend is Spiderman. Yet even without that knowledge, you consider yourself incredibly lucky to have someone so gentle and kind like he is; not everyone has a boyfriend that is patient and slow to anger.

You both would schedule dates and Leon’s schedule is free when all of a sudden, he has to go somewhere and reschedule the date. He would always appear sheepish and regretful when he had to break the news to you, especially when you were so eager to try out the dishes at the restaurant you two had reserved. You asked about it and he always responded with “it’s complicated” in a bashful and silent voice so you thought that it had something to do with a difficult family situation or a tough work environment. He usually didn’t share about them and you didn’t prod for more information, offering comfort and reassurance instead yet you still wondered what disrupts his evenings like this. You were confused about this habit but not overly suspicious.

You noticed that Leon would frequently come home with small cuts and bruises to the face, arms, hands, and torso.

“Leon, what are they making you do at work?! Why do you always come home battered in bruises?!” You exclaim as you look at the cut in the high point of Leon’s cheek, light pink and still bleeding slightly. His face is on your palms, tilted to the side as you try to get a better look at his injuries.

“You know how crime is now, they’re getting more violent,” Leon explains as he tries to ease your worries. “A few delinquents got me but I’m still in one piece.”

“But still!” You reasoned as worry creased your forehead. “Aren’t there other officers with you too?”

“Yes there are and they’re just as injured as I am,” he responds. He really wants to give you the honest explanation of his wounds– the fact that they’re from fighting crime as a hero named after an arachnid and not because of a rough encounter with some petty criminals– but he can’t; it’ll put you in harm’s way. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I didn’t graduate at the top of my academy for nothing, did I?”

You sigh and nod, but not before you look Leon sternly in the eyes with a pout. “But that doesn’t mean you’re totally invincible, Leon.”

He smiles, listening to you scold him on and on while you dab ointment on his wounds.

Leon often catches things as they fall mid-air and reacts faster than the average person, which both his partner and coworkers notice. The station attributes the replacement of the old bookshelf due to his sharp senses, having informed the station that they had to find a new one to take its place. Leon simply heard a tiny, faint creak of one of the planks holding up dense files which meant that about any time now, if they didn’t take any action, it would collapse and cause a mess. He always explained it with him having a sharp sense of hearing and being agile but in reality, it’s because of his heightened senses that he developed after the bite.

Whenever the news of Spiderman comes in the news, he’s always ready to drop whatever he was doing and see himself on the TV by footage of people who've seen him with the mask and suit. He watches intently, worried that his identity would be leaked and even a single frame of his face would be identified even if he makes sure that his mask always stays on. You chalk up his keen fascination with the hero as admiration and being a fan-boy, chuckling at the sight of seeing his boyfriend look so serious as he watches the friendly neighbourhood hero save the day once again.

You went home early one day, pleased that your boss decided to close up hours ahead of your usual closing time. When you got home, the house was dark save for the small beam of light peeking through the gaps at the bottom of the storage closet’s door. Interested, you walked close and heard some thudding and heavy breathing coming from the closed door. You swiftly turn the knob and walk in to see Leon standing half naked in his boxer shorts and a red something bunched out behind him on the floor. New bruises and scratches adorned his muscular torso, yet to be cleaned and tended to by your boyfriend in front of you.

“Leon?!” You bellowed. “What the fuck were you doing?!”

His hands come up to cover the bruises, looking at you with a terrified expression as a flush blooms in his cheeks and chest.

“Listen, I can explain–”

“Are you cheating on me?! Is that a girl’s dress behind you–”

“No, sweetheart, please– I’m not cheating on you or anything like that! You know I’d never do that to you–”

“I’m giving you 3 minutes to talk, Kennedy. Start. Now.”

Leon fumbles around, trying to find something– anything– to cover up with but he gives up, nearly bare as he tries to survive the crushing pressure of the situation. He starts off by picking up the red something you eyed earlier, holding it out properly so you can truly see that it is not a dress but a bodysuit with details resembling webs.

“I’m… I’m Spiderman.”

“I have a mental facility on speed dial–”

“No!” He turns his wrist to face skyward and shoots a web that aimed for your phone, snatching it out of your grasp. Your cellphone is now in his hand. “Is that enough proof or do I also need to lay eggs like a spider does so you’ll believe me.”

“No!” Now it’s your turn to explain, swatting him on the shoulder as you take the phone back. “Fine, fine. I believe you. But I did have the idea that you’re him for a long time now.”

The color from Leon’s face drained again, heart threatening to burst inside his chest.

“How… how…” he quietly asked as he tried to inspect your expression, trying to name an emotion based on your face.

“I mean… when you’re suddenly gone in the evening when we go on dates, you say you’re going to the RPD but you don’t rush home to get your bag with your permit and badges and stuff. When I get home and you’re still gone, it’s just sitting at the foot of your bed. You also always smell like something burnt or maybe rusty, which you don’t normally smell like when you get home from work. And don’t get me started on your injuries– they’re way too much for a police officer who apprehends petty criminals from time to time.”

The blond is at a loss for words, mouth bobbing up and down but with no words coming out.

“You look like a fish,” you comment. He blinks to ground himself and tries to calm down.

“I thought I did a good job at hiding it,” he softly mutters.

“For a while, I thought you were cheating on me and then I thought you were some gruesome murderer or something.”

“What?! No!” He exclaims, his hands waving to dismiss the idea. “Cheat?! Murder?! No, I’d never!”

“Good. So… you really are Spiderman.”

“Yeah… kind of relieved that this is out now, though I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

You displayed some coldness towards your boyfriend for a little bit, letting him know that hiding things from you isn’t good and that he should’ve been open but you cut him some slack, acknowledging that he did it for your well-being and that it’s also hard on his part too because the weight of his double life can be crushingly heavy.

Leon’s become more comfortable, sometimes cracking a spider-related joke or two with you. Of course, he made you swear that you’ll be the only one to know who Spiderman really is and you promised– for the safety of everyone involved with Leon. Now with this information, sometimes you buy little spider-related trinkets or some Spiderman merchandise that stores sell to fluster him.

He’s decided to take it upon himself to teach you some self-defense moves in case a villain decides to use you to their evil plans in order to taunt Leon, a situation both of you hope will never happen.

One day, you asked Leon to wear the suit for you in your shared apartment. After locking all doors and shutting all blinds, he walks out of the storage closet he keeps his costume in and appears in front of you. He poses first and climbs to the ceiling, hanging upside down as he looks at you. Feeling a little daring that day, you ask if you can lift his mask up to the bridge of his nose and place a careful kiss on his lips as he’s still upside down, planning to ask you if you two can have upside down kisses more often after this one.

NOTE - Hi y'all! I'm back again (for now mwahaha) :D Thank you to graveyardgrrrrrl for requesting, hope you like this one 🤩 I'm so happy that I got to finish one request already, this one has been marinating in my doc for about a month now so I hope the wait is worth it! Thankful to the 4 hour free period I have to be able to cook this up >:) I've been up to a lot of things-- adjusting to a new school with a system different from my old school (I already lost aura multiple times...) and reading so I've been quite busy as I tried to come up with ideas for fics. I hope everyone's doing well, you got this and I believe in you :)) Anyway, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I <333333333333 UUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The blue web divider is made by @adornedwithlight , the images are from Pinterest.

[barcaatthemoon]

denying || sydney lohmann x reader ||

you and sydney try to deny your feelings for each other in order to save your friendship.

you felt comfortable laying in sydney's arms. the two of you had opted to share one of the chairs for movie night with the team. most of the girls were either on the couch or floor, but you felt like you were in your own little world with sydney. the rest of the team ignored the two of you aside from the occasional teasing remark.

it had been this way since you and sydney were children. she was like comfort personified to you. there was nobody in the world you'd rather spend time with than sydney. sometimes your teammates liked to think that there was more to your friendship than what you let on. truthfully, you liked the idea of dating sydney, but you knew it'd never happen.

"are you okay?" sydney asked as she shifted around you. you moved to lay a little bit more on top of her, cuddling closer to her body.

"perfect, you make for a nice pillow," you said. sydney blushed at your compliment, just like she always did. sydney had always been sort of bashful in your eyes, even if a few of your teammates insisted that it was only because of you. "are you enjoying the movie?"

"not really. it's very confusing. i don't get why you and tuva like it so much," sydney huffed. you pouted, and for a moment, you thought sydney was going to kiss you. instead, she just shoved you away a little with a nervous chuckle. you frowned at this, but hid it well as you buried your face into the side of sydney's neck. "comfortable?"

"always with you," you told her. it was a lot more honest and vulnerable than you meant it to be, but sydney didn't seem to pick up on it. you knew why. you knew that there was no way that sydney would ever give up what she had with laura for you. there was nothing in the world that you could give sydney that you didn't also believe laura could.

…

there was something comforting about the anonimity of the club dance floor. between the music so loud that you couldn't form a thought, the alcohol buzzing its way through your veins, and the dim lighting, you had just enough excuses to pretend it wasn't sydney behind you. you could pretend that it was anybody else holding onto your waist and grinding your ass against themselves.

you hated that you recognized the feeling of sydney's hands immediately. she made your head spin as she moved against you. her breath was hot against the back of your neck as she sang along to the song. there was almost no way that sydney didn't know it was you. however, you let you convince yourself that it was an honest mistake on her part.

you kept your back turned to sydney as the two of you danced together for multiple songs. not once did her hands move away from your body. they occasionally drifted a little higher or lower, but sydney kept her hands on you for what felt like forever. when she finally did leave you on the dance floor, you felt an immediate longing for sydney to come back.

if any of your teammates had seen the two of you, they didn't mention it. sydney seemingly disappeared out of thin air, and within a few minutes, you made your exit from the club as well. the cold air did little to clear your head. it was somehow harder to ignore your feelings for sydney when you were stuck with just your own thoughts.

it didn't seem fair to want her as badly as you did without getting her. sydney's friendship was important to you, so you wouldn't push things. just like you weren't going to read into all of the little extra touches that sydney had been giving you during your dances earlier.

…

"i am so fucked," sydney groaned as she watched you from across the pitch. you were placed on different teams for the scrimmage, and while sydney knew that she should have been paying attention to the tactic brief, she couldn't take her eyes off of you. you were trying to cool off a bit, fanning yourself with the bottom of your shirt.

"no, i don't think you'd be this desperate if you were getting some," tuva teased. sydney turned and punched her teammate in the arm as hard as she could. everybody was distracted by their little shoving match, which sydney only stopped when she met your eyes. you were giving her an amused smile, and despite that, still shaking your head in disapproval.

"she's so whipped," pernille whispered as she pulled you into your position. you tried to brush it off, but you couldn't. pernille had a point. all of your teammates did whenever they teased the two of you. the more you struggled to contain your feelings, the more you started to catch onto the idea that sydney might like you back.

during the game, none of that mattered. sydney didn't let you get past her without a fight. you knew better than to try and run right up to a player like her. sydney was bigger and stronger than you, so you worked around her. it was obvious to everybody that you had learned a lot in the few months that you'd been playing regularly.

"that was a good goal," sydney said as she followed you into the locker room. she stayed back as you got your shower stuff. you had a tendency to take longer than her, so sydney normally mingled a bit before she took her shower. the two of you weren't leaving together, but you'd definitely hang out after practice.

"come over here, i need to talk to you," magda said as she grabbed sydney's shoulder. "what are you so afraid of with (y/n)? why haven't you asked that poor girl out yet?"

"why would i ask (y/n) out? she's my friend." sydney tried to play dumb, but the not-so-gentle squeeze from the defender on her shoulder warned her against it. "what if she doesn't want me? sometimes i think that maybe there's a chance, but it's not forever. she's already my friend, i can't expect to be lucky enough for her to want to be with me that way."

"idiots, both of you. go clean yourself up and do something about whatever the hell you two are doing!" magda ordered. sydney took a bit more time in her shower to think, finishing up around the same time that you were done getting dressed.

"sorry to keep you waiting," sydney apologized as she grabbed your backpack.

"syd, i'm driving myself. i can take my own bag," you tried telling her. sydney didn't listen to a word that you said. she carried your things for you out to your car before she opened up the driver's door for you as well. "are you okay? you've been awful quiet sydney."

"just thinking, that's all. magda said something in the locker room, and it's been sitting with me. don't worry about it," sydney said. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head and promised to meet you at your place.

you were in your head when you arrived back at your place. sydney followed you up, once again insisting on carrying up your backpack. she put your things away as if she lived there. sometimes you thought about inviting sydney to move in with you. she spent most of her time at your place anyway, you doubted that she had seen her roommates much outside of practice in a while.

"are you okay?" sydney asked as she pulled you to sit on her lap. you had been quiet as you made something to eat for the two of you. sydney had been over enough to know your routine. there was usually music being blasted while you busied yourself in the kitchen. today, things had been silent, and sydney couldn't help but feel like it was her fault. "what's on your mind?"

"i don't think that i can keep on like this," you sighed. sydney frowned as she squeezed you a little tighter. "sydney, i really like you. it's stupid because we're just friends, but i think i'm in love with you. i've tried to keep it to myself, but i can't."

"oh thank god, you just made my life so much easier." sydney pulled you back further into her arms as she laid back against your couch. "i'm pretty sure magda was gonna beat me up if i didn't tell you how i feel."

"how you feel?" you asked her. sydney nodded as she grabbed your face and turned it torwards her. "and how do you feel, sydney?"

"i feel warm and safe around you, like i'm being wrapped in a big, fluffy blanket after a night out. i feel like kissing you sometimes, but i'm never sure if that's okay. i feel good about myself when i'm holding you or when i make you smile. i've got a lot of feelings, and you bring out my favorite ones," sydney said. you bit your bottom lip as you took it all in. "can i kiss you?"

"i'd like that." sydney moved up to press her lips against yours. as far as first kisses went, you thought sydney was your favorite. she kissed you better than you could have imagined. you wanted to stay there with her all night, but eventually things like your hunger took over, forcing the two of you apart. still, sydney didn't let you get far, keeping you in her lap as the two of you ate lunch together. you didn't know what this meant for your relationship, but you knew that you'd be happy with sydney.

[burntb4bydoll]

I need so bad some Tokio Hotel member with a shy reader frrr, like she being shy and they being sweet, that's some hot shit.

Im actually pretty shy myself irl🤞dont be in my comments calling this cringe either, i think its so annoying when people shit on other people for wanting shy reader fics. it literally makes no sense to me because if you dont like it then dont read it🥰

Tokio Hotel with a shy s/o headcanons (slightly NSFW)

Bill kaulitz

•he can be a little shy himself, but for the most part hes pretty extroverted

•definitely makes sure that the attention is on him instead of you. He’ll make a fool out of himself if he needs to

•thinks its so damn cute when you get all shy and flustered when he compliments you. The shy smile on your face is his favorite thing in the world

•he will totally tease you about it too. The way you hide your face in his shirt makes him smirk so hard

• “aww its okay, sweetheart. No need to get all shy.” And he says that in the most teasing voice ever while stroking your hair

•loves when you can barely look him in the eyes, he thinks the way you get so nervous just because hes looking at you is very endearing

•makes you look into his eyes while he gives you head😇 if you look away, he slaps your thigh lightly and raises his eyebrow at you until you can hold eye contact with him

Tom Kaulitz

•omg hes such a little tease about it

•he always brings up when you get flustered or embarrassed

• “whats wrong, baby? You getting all shy on me?” LIKE STFU YES I AM

•hes a big attention grabber when you go out in public due to being famous and also being a attractive guy with good fashion sense, but he tries to distract you so that you dont get uncomfortable

•points out random things and just talks about random things to make you stop thinking about all the eyes on you

•will fight anyone who makes you feel bad about being shy. It’s completely normal and okay to be shy and he won’t let anyone tell you otherwise

•you get so embarrassed cuz you get all teary and needy when he fucks you. So he makes sure you know how good you’re doing 🤭

“It’s alright, you’re doing such a good job for me baby. My pretty little slut, hm?”

Georg Listing

•lord he is THRIVING

•strong believer that he would love a shy s/o

•he finds your bashfulness extremely refreshing and adorable. I think overly confident people would kinda annoy him so he likes that you’re humble and keep to yourself

•loves to give you random compliments just to see your eyes go wide and your hands come up to cover your face

•he pulls your hands away and tilts his head at you, trying to get you to look at him

“What’s wrong, babydoll? All I did was call you pretty. It that too much for you?”

• if you get too nervous to talk to workers or order your own food, he 100% does it for you

•he will make you use your words if you want something, because he knows how embarrassed you get and he thinks its so hot.

“Come on, you know you gotta use your words if you want something. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” So you gotta tell him when you want him to fuck you or else he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know what you want cuz hes an asshole🙄

Gustav Schäfer

•tbh he doesn’t really know how to help you at the beginning of your relationship

•he sees you getting embarrassed and just awkwardly rubs your back😭 HES CONFUSED LEAVE HIM ALONE

•but once he gets more comfortable, he knows what to do to help you feel better

•likes when you hide in his side or hide your face in his arm, it makes him feel important😇

•doesn’t even ask if you want him to order your food for you, he does it on his own. He’ll ask you what you want before its time to order so that he doesn’t have to ask you mid order

•HATES when people laugh at you for being shy. A lot of jealous fans like to make fun of you but he always makes sure to tell them off. No one talks bad about his s/o, he doesn’t care if they’re “fans” or not.

•he’ll always make sure you’re comfortable during sex, he would hate if you felt like you couldn’t tell him what you do and dont want

“Is this okay? I know you get shy, but I need to know what you want, honey. You want my fingers? Thank you for telling me, such a good girl/boy/baby.”

[cameronspecial]

The First Son And The First Spare

Pairing: FSOTUS!Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader

Warnings:  Panic Attack, Swearing, Mentions of An Attempted Murder, and SMUT.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 10.1K

Summary: Just because they are the children of world leaders, it doesn't mean that Y/N and Rafe have to like each other. But what happens when they have to get along with each other for the sake of their countries?

A/N: This is inspired by Red, White, and Royal Blue.

Masterlist

The traditional wedding march plays as Y/N watches her soon-to-be sister-in-law walk down the aisle. However, Y/N’s eyes can only see one person. She narrows in on the rude, egotistical, pain in her ass, who also happens to be the First Son of the United States. What she wouldn’t do to bash his head in with her bouquet? Unfortunately, it would be unbecoming of the Princess of England. Fiona finally makes it in front of Y/N’s brother, Prince George. The ceremony begins and Y/N feels as though time slows down. The only thing that can keep her sane is the hateful glares she sends Rafe. She prays no cameras to capture her un-Princess-like scowl. After an hour and fifteen minutes, George and Fiona kiss and leave the chapel. Y/N follows her siblings into the open air, catching Rafe’s gaze as she passes his pew. 

———

Greeting guests is one of Y/N’s duties for today as well as maintaining her family's reputation. While the newlyweds enjoy a moment in private, Princesses Y/N and Amelia exchange pleasantries with all the arriving guests. “I may not be into men, but I get why girls desperately fawn over him,” Amelia whispers to her sister while waiting for the Canadian Prime Minister and his wife to approach. Y/N addresses the foreign leader with a shake of her head before addressing her sister, “Thank you for coming, Prime Minister. Who are you talking about, Lia?” The younger girl’s flicks her eyes over to the next people in line. Y/N follows Amelia’s eyeline to Rafe. She lets out a low scoff, “You have to be insane to say that.” 

“Right, I forgot you have this irrational feud with him.” 

“It is not irrational. It is not my fault that he likes to bother me like a schoolboy. He is immature and a playboy.”

“Y/N/N, it’s called flirting. How can you not understand that he is delicious? I mean look at those ocean-blue eyes.”

“Being annoying is not flirting. I really do not understand the attraction of him. My Phelan is handsome and gentlemanly. That is attractive. Not whatever Rafe is.” 

Y/N shouldn’t lie to her sister, but she would rather be stuck in a room with her most conservative relatives than admit to finding Rafe hot. Little do the two royals know two children of a president are also having a similar conversation. “What did I do to Dad to make him send me here? He knows I hate England. Wheezie would kill to be here with you,” he mumbles to Sarah. She gives him a teasing smile, “You don’t hate this country. You hate the fact that one of its Princesses would rather be anywhere but near you.” “Please, I could care less about where Y/N wants to be,” he huffs, chancing a glance at the mentioned princess. “Funny how I didn’t need to mention her name for you to know who I was talking about. And before you try to argue, even if she likes girls, Amelia is a Princess, who can be places.” Sarah skips ahead of her brother without waiting for him to answer. He rushes after his sister to stand in front of the sisters of the groom.

“Sarah, it is lovely to see you again. Thank you for coming,” Y/N greets the First Daughter and sends her to Amelia. She turns to who is next in line, internally groaning once she sees him, “Rafe… Thank you for coming.” “What? It’s not lovely to see me, Princess?” Rafe taunts, feeling her fingers grip him tighter than necessary. She holds her head high and away from him, “You are meant to address me as Your Royal Highness.” She doesn’t say anything else; instead, she has her eyes set on the next people in line. Rafe walks toward the ballroom where the reception is being held. “How can someone so pretty have such a huge stick up her ass?” he grumbles under his breath. He thinks it goes unnoticed by everyone, yet Ms. Stick Up Her Ass hears it all. 

———

Y/N’s hands rest on Phelan’s shoulder and hand. They twirl around the room in time with the music, oblivious to Rafe’s stare. The lip of the glass meets his as he takes a sip of his drink. The rum burns his throat. He doesn’t get what she sees in Duke Phelan. The pompous ass looks like a massive buzzkill. Rafe doesn’t care though. Why would he? There is no care in him for the woman in Phelan’s arms. He must admit, when he first saw Y/N, fifteen-year-old him couldn’t believe she was as beautiful as her pictures. It was the first event he had to go to with his new presidential father and she was the only person there around his age. He was in anticipation of meeting her throughout the opening. Their meeting didn’t go how Rafe planned. He had no idea what he did to set Y/N off because he was only met with an icy gaze. It was nothing like the warm glow he saw her give other teens on television or even the adults today at the Olympics. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she quips quickly. The words were polite; the tone was not. It differed greatly from how she addressed the others. From that day on, it left Rafe with so many questions and the only ability to return her behaviour. 

The song comes to an end and Phelan breaks away from her with a kiss on the cheek. “I must use the lavatory. I will be right back, Darling,” he informs her. She spends the time searching for a flute of champagne, heading to examine the cake her brother spent an exorbitant amount of pounds on once she found her drink. The flute is placed on the cake table. She doesn’t notice the other person waiting near the cake. “You looked so serious dancing up there. Do you ever have fun with that snooze,” Rafe comments, not turning in her direction. She rolls her eyes at him, allowing herself to go against decorum for him, “For your information, I have plenty of fun with Duke Phelan. Although, it is none of your business, sir.” He can detect her lies easily. He knows her tell. Her lies are given away by the slight tucking of her inner lip between her teeth. The minuscule tell keeps up with her royal appearance and is recognizable solely by people who know how to look for it. 

This is the longest they have gone without sarcasm dripping from their voices, so Rafe takes it as an opportunity to have a decent conversation with her. “Do you ever think about getting married?” he asks, giving her his attention for the first time since they started talking. She gives him a soft smile, “I do. I’ve always wanted a smaller wedding, even though it is virtually impossible because I am a royal. I imagine something more intimate, exchanging vows with the person whom I love. I could pretend for once that my whole country does not place me on a pedestal.” He doesn’t mock her for her dreams like she expected, which surprises her. Maybe, they can be civil with each other. She spots Phelan in the crowd and starts to make her way toward him. Rafe spots her champagne and gently places his hand on her shoulder to point it out to her. He overestimates his strength, causing her to stumble backwards from his pull. She slips on her dress and backpedals into Rafe, sending both of them flying into the giant white cake. The buttercream and sponge of the cake paint their skin and turn them into an abstract painting. Rafe tries to get out from under her. He slips on some icing and this causes him to fall on top of Y/N. She groans at his sudden weight hitting her ribs, placing her hands on his shoulder to push him off of her. He plops to his side at the same time that Phelan comes running to her.

Phelan hands her his handkerchief to wipe her hands off prior to him helping her up. Rafe wants to laugh at the ridiculous notion of getting her to clean up before she can be aided. If required to get her standing, he would’ve picked her up by her waist without a care for the cake getting on his suit. The handkerchief is handed to a waiter and Phelan brings Y/N to her feet. Rafe stands up with no help, going over to apologize to Y/N. “This is all your fault,” she grits through her teeth. She and Phelan make their exit for her to return to her spotless manner. 

———

“This is an absolute disaster, Y/N. We are supposed to be presenting a united relationship with the United States because of the upcoming deal the Prime Minister has with President Cameron,” her mother criticizes, showing the multiple headlines of the cake incident on the screen. Y/N’s head bows, “I am sorry, Mother. I will make a public apology to George and the public for wasting the money by destroying the cake.” “That will be added to the list of damage control. Nevertheless, that is not the main focus of this meeting. I called you here to inform you that you will be heading to America tomorrow,” Queen Isabel states, rounding her desk to sit in her chair. Y/N leans forward, “I am not sure I heard you correctly, Mother. Did you say that I am to be in America tomorrow?” “Yes, Y/N. You and Rafe shall pretend that you are actually the best of friends. You will appear at events and hold interviews together,” Isabel begins. “I do not care how much you both hate each other, you will act as if you love each other. Did I make myself clear?” Y/N nods at her mother’s warning, “Yes, Mother.” 

———

Y/N always prefers to fly commercial flights. Her mother rarely approves of such flights, except because this flight is not in the original travel budget for the year, a commercial flight was needed to stay within budget. It allowed Y/N to feel normal for once. She could people-watch without the stares of other people, not being recognized because of her coppery-brown wig. The different hair causes people to hesitate if they think she is her and they eventually chalk her up to being a look alike. The copper colour was chosen because it stood out but not too much. She spent her flight people-watching and reading over the dossier on Rafe. It doesn’t surprise her that he is studying Business at UNC-Chapel Hill, Ward after all comes from a business background. Even with the insistence of helping her from her bodyguards and assistant, Y/N persists in getting her bags herself. 

During the car ride, Drew, her bodyguard, quizzes her on Rafe for the upcoming interviews. “Where did he grow up?” Drew questions. Y/N doesn’t bat an eye, “Outer Banks, North Carolina. His father was from the Cut, which is the working-class side of the island, but with his developmental firm, he bought a house on Figure Eight, which is the wealthy side.” “You didn’t have to go through that whole backstory. You had it correct after the first sentence,” he notes. She gives him a knowing look, “You know I like to be thorough. Next question, we are almost at the White House.” “Right, who are his best friends?” Drew continues. She thinks about the question for a second, “Topper Thornton. Son of Dr. Cynthia Thornton and Cyrus Thornton, a lawyer. As well as Kelce Smith. Son of Linda Smith, CEO of Smith Enterprises, and Scott Smith, an investment banker.” “A very detailed answer as always,” he is about to come up with another question when the limo comes to a halt. “Your Royal Highness, we are here,” the chauffeur calls out from the front.

The car door swings open and Drew shuffles out of the car, holding out his hand for her. She brings her knees together and shifts her legs to hang out of the car. She looks around the North lawn to find it void of a certain presidential son. “You would think he would be here to greet his own guest,” she snarks when a fancy dark green car comes drifting dangerously close to her. Rafe exits the car with a smirk, “Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to be without my presence for very long.” She ignores his remark and pursues the Deputy Chief of Staff, Zahra, to where the interviews are being held. 

Y/N sits on the sofa with her back straight, which contrasts Rafe’s slouched position. The first interviewer arrives with a notepad and camera. “It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness and Mr. Cameron. I’m Esther Sparks from British Times,” Esther salutes, shaking both of their hands. “It is lovely to meet you,” Y/N returns with a smile. Rafe mocks her, “It IS lovely to meet you, Ms. Sparks.” He sends a devious smirk and she brings her eyelids close together. They answer generic questions about each other by different interviewers until they each ask one question that they both use to take turns to embarrass each other. “Tell us about the cake incident,” they would each press. 

“He very much wanted to try the cake.”

“She was so distracted by my beauty that she didn’t notice where she was walking.”

“He was very inebriated and he fell into the cake.”

“She was so jealous about her brother getting all of the attention.” 

Each answer received a laugh from the interviewers. During the final recording, the man behind the camera actually had a different eye-widening query. He lays out pictures from the wedding. “In all of these pictures, there is a fire within both of your eyes. Is there something more than a friendship that you have been hiding?” Rafe’s water spews all over the coffee table. Y/N hides her disgust whilst responding, “That is certainly incorrect. I am in a very happy relationship with Duke Phelan. Anything you have interpreted is not based on facts.” Only the camera captures the slight waiver of Rafe’s mouth into a frown as he processes her answer. Even he won’t admit it happened. 

———

Rafe waits by her bedroom door while she gets ready as ordered by Zahra. He didn’t want to escort the princess to the car, but Zahra argued that it would look good optics-wise if they went out to the car together. Right at twelve-forty-five, her door creaks to reveal the most laid-back outfit he has seen her in. She is wearing jeans with a plain pastel pink T-shirt. He has only ever seen her in formal pants, skirts or dresses. The most casual she has been in pictures is semi-formal. “Are you finished staring? We have somewhere to be,” she quips, leaving him to watch as her hair swishes from side to side. He chases after her and holds the door open to get brownie points with the media for being a gentleman. Once he catches up to her, he clarifies his reason for his earlier gaze. “I was staring because I didn’t know you owned jeans.” 

“I didn’t know you kept up with my wardrobe.”

“I… I don’t. You just always dress like you are going to a wedding or something.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t always dress like I just rolled out of bed. I, for one, have to maintain my appearance.”

He chuckles at her retort, “Damn, look who finally got some good bite to her bark.” Her eyes form a circle and she has to stop the small stutter in her step when he opens each door they pass for her. He has to admit he really does like her new style. She looks more relaxed and comfortable. They both slide into the car, waiting patiently to arrive at the hospital. 

———

How can someone so rude be so good with children? They all sit in front of Rafe, listening to him read from the storybook. He would change his voice for different characters and the hand not holding the book would gesture wildly. The moment would be interrupted if she tried to join in on the reading, so she silently observed the scene. He really does enjoy entertaining the children. They feed off of his relaxed demeanour and return it back to him. A toddler waddles up to her, leaning back against her knees. She hasn’t exactly interacted with a lot of children, so she doesn’t know what to do with him. At this time, Rafe finishes his book and glances at the uncomfortable look on her face. He leans in, letting his lips meet the shell of her ear. “He wants to sit on your lap. Pick him up by the waist and put him on your lap.” She gives him a hesitant look, doing as he instructs. She struggles a little and Rafe helps her by gently pushing the boy onto her lap. The young child is satisfied with the result. He turns into her hold, sucking his thumb with his head in her neck.

A thought pops into Rafe’s mind that makes him reevaluate his life. Y/N holding the toddler brings up the image of her doing the same with their own children. To have those thoughts, he would have to like her and that can’t be right. He can’t have feelings for Y/N. He doesn’t even know her last name. She speaks like an old person all the time and she can’t stand him. This must be a mistake. A trick of his brain. Because there is no way that he is falling for her.

———

After a successful afternoon of spending time with children in the pediatric unit, Y/N and Rafe are heading back to the car. A pop sounds throughout the room and Y/N docks for cover in a panic. Rafe reacts on instinct, using his body to shield the crouching Y/N. Drew rushes the two public figures into a storage closet and orders them to stay there until he comes to get them. Her breathing starts to quicken, feeling like she can’t get enough air into her lungs. He hears the gasps she lets out and he grows concerned. She must be having a panic attack, yet he doesn’t know what to do. He hesitates in bringing her head to his chest and he demonstrates his controlled breathing. “In. Out. In. Out,” he mumbles, cupping her ear to muffle the commotion outside. She mimics his pattern. Her feet take a step back, “Thank you.” “No problem. I didn’t know you got panic attacks triggered by loud noises. It’s not in your file,” he voices. She shrugs, “I do not desire it to be public knowledge. It does not uphold a royal’s controlled behaviour.” “Did… did you want to talk about it?” he offers, sitting against the shelving unit.

“During my first royal tour, I was five, a gunman tried shooting my mother. In the chaos, I was knocked to the floor whilst everyone around me tried moving away,” she begins to recount. “I remember how much it hurt to feel the toes of everyone’s shoes hit against my skin. I was so scared I was not going to be found. However, I was more terrified of going back to a family that no longer had a mother. I had no idea what happened to her.” Tiny globs of water form in the corner of her eyes and he pulls her in for a hug. “Since then, loud sounds remind me of that day,” she explains. The mood in the closet holds a dark cloud over both of them. Their arms fall to the ground and their fingers gently brush against each other. He can’t think of a way of cheering her up; therefore, he tries to cheer her up by moving the conversation along.

“Why do you always sound like you have a stick up your ass?”

She chokes a little on a laugh, “What is it with you and sticks up my arse?”

“It’s always funny to get a princess to say ass.”

“That is very immature. And to answer your question, I may be the second born but I am still the first spare. If god forbid something happens to my brother or he chooses not to have a baby. I would be up to bat. No one wants a normal queen. They want an exceptional one.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“It is but it is the pressure I was born to handle.” 

There is strength within her, except he can see how this expectation is chipping away at her. His pinky reaches for hers to provide comfort, “You may be born into the pressure, but it doesn’t mean you should have to deal with it by yourself.” Before she can answer, the door opens and the both of them jump apart. Drew’s eyebrows almost met his hairline at the sight of the pair. “The scene has been assessed and it is safe, Your Royal Highness. It was a child who brought a firework for his friend. No plans of harming you or Rafe,” Drew shares, holding his hand out for Y/N to take. The connection of her hand with another man’s causes jealousy to burn in Rafe’s stomach. 

———

Rafe felt victorious once he finally got Y/N to use a contraction. It was over text, but it still counted. Ever since the day at the hospital, they have been texting each other. He had asked Zahra for the princess’ number because he missed being snarky with her after she left for home. He hates how his heart tickles upon seeing her contact name pop up in a notification. Princess. His hand reaches for his phone, not being able to hold his smile in. If this photographer tells me to smile bigger one more time, then I’m going to cut my lips off and staple them to his camera. Rafe chuckles at her gruesomeness. It was surprising to him when Y/N divulged her love of gruesome movies. He couldn’t believe the prim and proper princess of England enjoyed the sight of bloody murders. It wasn’t just any kind of horror movie though. It was slasher movies that she fancied the most. She said it relaxes her, which only slightly concerned him. Come on, Princess. All he wants to do is see your pretty smile. 

She sees the flash of her lock screen with a notification. She can’t respond because the photographer snaps his fingers to catch her attention. Rafe is going to have to wait. After the photoshoot is over, Y/N gets changed into her sweatpants and jumper. She remembers she has to respond to his text, so she calls him instead. “Are my ears deceiving me? Is Princess Y/N actually calling me?” he teases, lying back down in his bed. He was about to get ready for the day; this was better. She shakes her head, “I am. Not because I want to talk to you, I need to work on my American accent. I’m planning on running for President. You know so I can actually be the ruler of a country.” 

“I’m hurt, Princess. And here I thought you liked me.” 

“There are a lot of words I would use to describe you, Rafe. Bring liked by me is not one of them.”

“I beg to differ. If you didn’t like me, then why are we talking right now?” 

“Because I am bored and for some reason, I keep getting texts from you.” 

A knock comes at his door before it is opened by Wheezie. “Dad needs to see you,” she relays the message. His head flicks up to acknowledge her and he moves his phone away from his mouth, “Okay, I’ll be down in a second.” A pout forms on Y/N’s mouth. “Aww, you have to go. But we literally just started talking.” “I know. I’m sorry, Princess. I think it is a good thing though. The more you talk to me, the more and more you sound like a commoner,” he jokes. She huffs, “Haha, I’m sorry that I no longer sound like I have a stick up my arse. I bet it’s disappointing for you.” “You really are getting better at sounding more human. I’m proud, Princess,” he lets out a disappointed sigh. “I have to go now. Bye.” With no other choice, he hangs up the call to go talk to his dad. 

———

After months of texting and calling, Y/N and Rafe are going to be in the same room again. Rafe is hosting his annual New Year's Eve party. All the most prominent children in the world are going to be in attendance, so, of course, Y/N would be in attendance as well. Rafe and she are on familiar terms with each other; nonetheless, she is dreading the party. The holiday season involves being cattled to different events to boost the family name and Y/N is exhausted. Any other year, New Year's Eve would be the pause in the season she needs. This year is different because of the cake incident. To make matters worse, she obviously misinterpreted the type of event this is because she is very overdressed. Her black and white plaid knee-length polyester skirt matches her blazer and with her long-sleeve button-up, she is burning up. Rafe can spot her easily in the crowd. Her outfit makes her stand out more and he loves it. He likes being able to quickly locate her. 

The dancing people part to create an easy path for him. He reaches her with a smile. “I’m glad you came, Princess. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” he taunts, kissing her cheek as a welcome. A whirlpool stirs in her stomach. Her hand grips her forearm, “Yep. I’m sorry I’m late. There was a delay on my flight. I also overestimated the dress code and now, I feel silly.” His head moves from side to side with a comforting look. “Don’t feel silly, you look beautiful. And hey, you’re using contractions so you fit right in,” he promises, a warm hand resting on hers. 

He can see through the smile she offers. It doesn’t reach her eyes, which are slightly glazed over with bags just peeking through her concealer. His mood matches hers because suddenly his happiness depends on how she is feeling. “You look tired, Princess. Is everything alright?” he presses, stepping closer so his mouth is near her ear. Her head darts up, “Yeah, I’m peachy. A little jet lagged though.” He catches the way her bottom lip appears to be microscopically pitched between her teeth. “Come on, Princess. I don’t like it when you lie to me. So please tell me what’s wrong,” he implores. She exhales, “No offence, I really don’t want to be here. New Year’s Eve is the time that I get a break from being paraded around like a float. I can settle down in my room by myself in comfy clothes and as many movies as I want.” The corner of her lips droop downwards. “Why don’t we do that then?” he suggests, holding his hand out. Her breath hitches at his proposal, “You can’t leave your own party, Rafe.” “Ehh, it’s dead anyway. Let’s go,” he insists, tugging her out of the tent and into the White House.

His room is exactly as she imagined, although with fewer Playboy posters than she thought he would have. The sheets of his bed are crisply made and a peek in his walk-in closet shows clothes hanging at an equal distance from one another. Everything is pristine and in place, which isn’t surprising for the man she got to learn more about. He guides her onto the bed and leaves a pillow-width distance between them. The click of the remote causes the screen to light and he pulls up Scream. As the clock tickets toward midnight, the pair watch one slasher film from the franchise after the other. “Okay, I get why she stays in America in the second movie. No one expects to get chased after a serial killer again. But if it were to happen to me a second time, you bet your ass that I would be moving to a remote island somewhere after the second time,” Y/N fills the silence. 

He chortles, “I’m with you on that. How many times does Sidney need to get chased by a Ghostface killer before she leaves civilization? What would you bring to your remote island?” “Horror movies, a Swiss army knife and you,” she rattles off mindlessly. His head swivels toward her, “Me? What about your amazing boyfriend?” “I love him. I do. He just isn’t great with survival skills. I would die immediately if we were deserted,” she clarifies, reaching for the popcorn they popped earlier tonight. He nods, “Right. I’m from the Outer Banks, so I can fish and shit.” “Yes, you can. Ooh, look. It’s almost midnight. Change it to the countdown please,” she implores, accidentally pressing her breasts against his chest to grab the remote for him. He takes the remote out of her hand; their warm hands brush each other to make both of their breaths hitch. She pulls away as he switches the TV to display the New York Countdown. The crowd of people on the screen starts to count, watching as the ball descends. 

Rafe observes how the glow of the screen lights up her face. Her voice fills in with the partygoers. He is drawn to the way her lips move. They are stained a reddish mauve that makes him wonder what it would look like smeared on the skin around his mouth. The colour makes her lips even more kissable. He has to remind himself they don’t belong to him, yet he needs to know what they feel like on his. Fireworks go off at midnight and Rafe has to take this chance while he has the excuse of a midnight kiss. The pads of his digits face her head toward him. He leans forward and their lips meet. His mind searches for signs that she doesn’t want this. A push of his chest. A shake of her head. A yell of no. They don’t come. Instead, her lips move against his. The peck he was going to give her is reworked into something deeper.

She can’t be mad at him kissing her without any warning. She saw him leaning in for the kiss and had ample time to turn him away. He would definitely respect if she said it wasn’t what she wanted. This is wrong; she has a boyfriend. Nevertheless, her brain screams that it wants to know if his lips are as rough as she thinks they are. The contact of their mouths causes her to part her two petals. He matches her actions and slots his kisser against hers. The roughness isn’t what she expected; it’s less than she imagined. His hands maneuver to her hips to shift her onto his lap. She twines her hand in the field of his hair. Even if she isn’t pressing hard, she can feel the rock forming in his pants against the growing wetness of her pussy. The moment they are sharing creates a fire within her, akin to the one he normally builds. The difference with this one is that it is fueled by passion. Her head is woozy and she believes she needs this feeling to breathe. Being with Phelan isn’t like this. What she has with her boyfriend is soft like a cool breeze. It doesn’t spark this desire for more. It doesn’t have her chasing after it.

This makes her realize how wrong this is. She isn’t with Rafe. She shouldn’t sense the urge to be consumed by him, so she has to pull away. The tint of her lipstick coats his pale skin and he is wearing it with pride. The corners of his piehole droop like a wet towel. Her head wavers from side to side, “I should go. I’m really tired.” She swings off of him and gathers her things before dashing out the door. Leaving Rafe to wonder if he has ruined everything they had and possibly could have. 

———

Going back to no contact absolutely destroys Rafe. The kiss clarified everything for him. He loves her and maybe his crush on her from when he was fifteen never went away in the first place. After running his fingers through his hair in frustration for not following her out, he took a picture of the way her lipstick was practically tattooed onto his skin. This vision deserves to be remembered forever. The flowery scent of her perfume is imprinted in his memory. He flicks through the pictures as he listens to Zahra go over the different events he needs to attend in the following month. In the most non-creepy way, he wishes he had more candid pictures of Y/N. The only ones he has of her are the professional photos that show none of her personality. She looks so poised and stiff, which doesn’t show the whole of her. “Rafe, Rafe. Are you listening to me?” Zahra criticizes. He slams the phone down on the counter; nothing would be more embarrassing than getting caught looking at a picture of himself. 

He has no idea how to hide his lack of attention, “Uhh, you were talking about… How I need to go to LA?” “Stop looking at naked girls on your phone. I was talking about how you are going to go to the UK again for Prince George’s Charity Polo Match,” the Chief exasperates. His interests are piqued and he scrambles out of the meeting with Zahra calling after him. He is furiously typing on his phone. Hey, I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be at your brother’s Polo Match, so hopefully we can talk. He hits the arrow to send the text and listens to the whoosh it lets out. It doesn’t take long for the sent under the bubble to change into read. It disappoints him that no bubbles follow the change. He doesn’t know why he thought she would respond.

———

Phelan sits beside Y/N in the Royal box with his fingers laced between hers. Thousands of eyes are probably on her, yet she can only feel one burning into her skin. She glimpses at him and their orbs encounter each other. “I need to talk to you,” he mouths to her. She disregards his attempt to speak to her and faces her boyfriend. Her lips plant on Phelan’s cheeks and his cheeks redden like a cherry. She moves to the shell of his ear, “Maybe you can meet me in the equipment shed in a few minutes. I have the urge to engage in coitus.” Phelan and Y/N are never spontaneous or lustful with their sexual intercourse. Phelan prefers the privacy of one of their beds and to be the one on top. While his slow pace is sweet, it can lead to Y/N feeling a little unfulfilled by the experience and makes her wonder what more is out there. She thought that maybe this could be the opportunity for that. Phelan leans away from her with a taken-aback look on his face. “We most certainly must not do so. We are in public and it would be inappropriate,” he scolds like she is a child. The hope on her face drops and she decides she needs to get some air. She excuses herself from her sits, heading to the equipment shed as she had originally planned. 

The hut is empty and smells of the hay tracked in by the riders, who were returning their equipment. Peace fills her soul. Finally, a moment without the stares of everyone on her. The rolls of the wheels cause her to turn toward the door. Is Phelan surprising her? Her teeth flash to the entering figure; they hide once she sees who it is. “What are you doing here?” she murmurs to him, not connecting their gaze. He closes the door and remains where he is standing. He fears she will feel trapped by him. “We haven’t talked since New Year’s Eve,” he expresses. She acknowledges his statement, “I am aware of that fact.” She keeps her sentences short. “I know I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry,” he apologizes with his hand on the back of his neck. 

Her head bobs up and down, “Okay, I accept.” He waits to see if she will add anything. Her silence lasts. “So that’s it. I make one mistake and we can’t be friends. I get that I made it uncomfortable and I’m not trying to say it is your fault, but you kissed me back too,” he points out, taking a step forward. She stares at him, “I should not have done that. I did not enjoy it.” A longing look fills his eyes and his head dips to be close to her ear. “Then why did you grip my hair so tightly.” Her eyes flit to his lips and she can’t contain herself. She throws her arms around his neck, pulling his face to hers. He groans at finally being able to feel her against him again. His hands bring her flush against him by the waist. He asks for permission to enter her mouth with a swipe of his tongue along her bottom lip. She allows him in with a slight moan. Their feet glide on the floor and she presses him up against the door. Being in control of this situation built a fire inside of her that she didn’t know could exist. No matter how hard or how much their lips are together, she feels like it will never be enough. A loud shout from outside snaps her back to reality and she can’t believe she did this against. Once again, she leaves him alone. 

However, this time, he isn’t going to let her run off again without talking about what happened. He chases after her, losing her in the crowd. When he finds her again, he can’t manage to get her alone. As the event comes to an end, she is rushing off back to Kensington Palace with her sister. 

———

He couldn’t let her go another time, especially since he was already in England. It was pretty easy to get into Kensington Palace when Amelia was such a big fan of him. “Let him through, Conrad. I like him,” she orders, beckoning Rafe into the palace grounds once the guard at the gate moves out of the way. “Thanks,” he says as they walk inside. She flashes him a smile, “You’re welcome. I’m secretly hoping you and Y/N get together. I already know you guys have kissed so we are almost there.” “Your sister told you about that?” he inquires with hope. If Y/N told her sister about the moment, then she is at least acknowledging it happened. Amelia shakes her head, “No, I can just tell though. She’s my sister. I have to go, but good luck!” She heads in the other direction, leaving Rafe to search for Y/N’s room. 

He finds it and knocks gently on the door. She calls out for him to enter. Her room is exactly as he expected. It is completely void of her amazing personality. The pristine appearance fits perfectly with the aesthetic that the royal employees push onto her. He wishes she would be allowed to plaster horror movie posters around the room. He wishes he could help her litter the room with pictures. Maybe they could’ve been of them on dates or kissing or being in each other's company. The political books on the shelves should be of the smutty romance books he has caught her reading when they were first getting to know each other. The room definitely needs more colour. 

She is sitting at her desk, staring him down. “Why are you here?” He walks over to her, “I’m tired. Tired of you always running off after we kiss, so we can’t talk to each other.” “Both times were a mistake. I have Phelan and I am perfectly happy. I do not want to see you anymore, so please leave,” she argues. His head moves from side to side, “No. Because we need to talk about it. I know we both felt that spark and we can’t just ignore it.”

“There was no spark. And even if there was, then why would it matter?”

“Why does the spark matter? It matters because we love each other and we deserve to give us a chance.”

“I am in love with Phelan.”

Rafe chuckles, “Really?” He towers over her; his breath hitting her neck as he brings his lips to ghost the skin of it. “So he satisfies you? With his kisses? With his touches? With his dick?” He kisses down her neck with each question and she knows she should move away, except she doesn’t. She craves the feeling of his lips and wonders the type of pleasure he can bring her. “We can’t be together,” she informs, thinking about what her mother wants for her future. A future that features marrying Duke Phelan. He disagrees, “Why not? Give me one good reason.”

“My mother says I have to marry Phelan.”

“I said give me a good reason. Aren’t you tired of doing what everyone else wants? If you had to be selfish about one thing, shouldn’t it be with who gets your heart?” 

“And what would you do with my heart?” 

“I would help you kindle the fire that burns in it. I would show you that you deserve to be treated as more than just a spare. Because you are your own person, Princess, and that merits the freedom of choosing who you marry.”

His tone drips with care and it squeezes at her heart. Beside her sister, he is the only person who can see past her royal side. “And who should I choose to marry? You?” she teases, placing a hand on his chest to steady her slightly dizzy head. His shoulders rise to his ears, “Maybe. I mean if you want to. Not know though. In the distant, distant future.” His cheeks redden at the thought and he rubs the back of his neck. “You’re right. I want to give you my heart,” she mutters to him. “I also really want to kiss you.” He takes this as an invitation to lean in. She stops him with a finger to his lips. “We can’t do that again until I break up with Phelan. It isn’t fair to him,” she tells him. He nods, “Right, right. I’ll text you the hotel I’m staying at. Come over when you do what you have to do.” 

“Okay, I’ll be over as soon as I can.” 

“Sounds good. Also, don’t think that I haven’t noticed you started using contractions again. But you know what would sound even better?” 

She giggles, “Get your ass out of here so I can go break up with Phelan.” 

———

Breaking up with Phelan felt like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders. He didn’t understand why she wanted to call it quits on them but eventually came around to the idea. She left him alone to cry into his pillow and went to Rafe’s hotel. She had one stop to go to first. She leaves the store wearing her newly acquired purchase and bounces in her seat while she is being driven to Rafe. She practically falls out of the car and rushes to the elevator. As soon as he opens the door, she attacks him with a kiss. Their lips separate with a grin and they laugh at her lipstick smudge on him. “In case, it isn’t clear. I want to be with you because you make me feel the most alive I ever have before. Like I can be myself with you and I won’t disappoint you,” she murmurs against his lips. Rafe grips her into his arms and drags her into his room, “You could never disappoint me. You are the most amazing person I have ever met.” They continue the kiss as he falls back onto the bed with her on top of him. 

Her hands go to the buttons on his shirt and start popping them out of their holes. She tugs his shirt off of him, not breaking their kiss to do so. His arms rest at the hem of her shirt and he breaks the kiss. “We don’t have to do this. I know it might be a little early. We can just watch a movie or get something to eat,” he offers. She shakes her head, “I need you, Rafe. Please, make me feel good.” His dick strains against his pants at her pleas. He loves the neediness in her voice. “Your wish is my command, Princess.” He rids her of her shirt and he almost drools at the sight before him. 

Her breasts are barely contained by the dark red lace cupping it. The material barely kisses the top of her nipples. Y/N was nervous about buying this for Rafe; however, with the way he was staring at her, she determined she chose correctly. This set makes her feel confident and sexy, which contrasts with what Phelan prefers for her to wear. It was always soft pink and covered her assets completely. Very feminine and cute. She prefers this feeling over that. She gets up off of his lap to slide off her pants and he takes off his. She has to stop herself from drooling at the size of his length. Even though she has never done it before, she wants to know what he feels like in her mouth. She drops to her knees and hesitantly reaches out for his cock. He can sense her doubt, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, Princess.” “No! I want to. I just never done this before,” she reveals, dropping her hand down to her side. His eyes widen, “You’ve never had sex? You should’ve told me this was your first time, Princess. I would’ve made it more special.” “I’ve had sex. It’s just… Phelan’s idea of foreplay is running a finger through my folds and then squirting lube on his dick before he pushes into me, missionary style,” she explains. 

He gives her a soft smile, “I’m sorry he never made you feel as good as he should’ve. I’ll make sure you get to experience everything you want to. But that is going to be the last time you think about him because the only man you are allowed to think of is me.” He joins her on the floor and guides her onto the bed. He looks up at her, “I want to show you how good foreplay feels and then I can show you how to give me a blow job. Is that okay?” She bobs her head and butterflies fill her stomach. He takes off her matching lacey thong and her legs spread for him. She can’t wait to fill his lips against her pussy, so she eagerly shoves his face into her heat. His chuckles send vibrations through her core and she throws her head back at the feeling. He sucks on her clit, flicking his tongue at it whilst he does so. 

She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, so she threads them through his hair. After a few more sucks, he moves his tongue into her hole. He laps at it like she is his final meal. “Do you like how this feels, Princess? Am I making you feel good?” he seeks her assurance as if her moans and pulls aren’t enough of an answer. She brings him back to her, “So good. More, please, Rafe.” He continues his assault on her pussy and goes back to devouring her. She screams at the feeling, grinding against his face. His hands find her hips and hold her down against the mattress. He presses his face further into her. He can fill her walls trying to grip onto his tongue, so he gives her a finger to cling to. She tightens around him as he moves his finger in and out of her, using his mouth to stimulate her clit. She adjusts to the finger and he uses another finger to stretch her out some more. This is when she starts to contract around him and a knot starts to build in her stomach. Her back arches as she pulls his hair, “I’m going to come.” Her words motivate Rafe more and he speeds up his motion to bring her to her high. Her walls relax against him and he pulls out of her. “Look at my princess all wet for me. I’m so proud of you. You want to know what you taste like because you taste fantastic,” he praises. Wonder fills her and she moves his head to hers. She can taste herself on his lips. 

He comes to stand between her legs as they make out and she can feel his hard length against her pussy. She parts their lips, looking down at his hips. His dick stands tall against the bottom of his stomach. “Can I suck you off now?” she asks in a small voice. He twitches at the thought of her mouth around him, “Of course, you can, Princess. You start off doing what you think is right and I’ll tell you what I like.” He helps her stand, grabbing a pillow off of his bed for her to kneel on. Her knees rest against the soft cushion. She gently takes him into her hand and examines every inch of him. The veins running up and down his cock call to her. Her tongue sticks out from the cavern of her mouth and she traces along them. She moves from the base of his penis up to his tip. 

The tiny slit on the tip is oozing with pre-cum and she kisses it. Salt fills her mouth. She peppers it with another kiss before trying to take him into her mouth completely. He hits the back of her throat and she has to pull away with a cough. Rafe lets out a low laugh. He cups her cheek and keeps her off of him for a second. “Look at my eager princess, who just wants to make me feel good with her mouth. You need to sle help you.” His hands go to theow down a little. Don’t want you hurting yourself. Here, let m back of her head and slowly direct her back onto him. With the more controlled movement, she can get a better hold of her breathing. “See, there you go. You are doing so much better. Breath through your nose, Princess,” he advises. She follows his instructions and this helps her get farther down his cock without the need to come out for air. She isn’t able to take his full size, so he continues to aid her in handling what she can fit. His dick starts to spasm inside of her mouth and he tries to remove himself from her mouth. She doesn’t let him. She grips his wrists to stop his attempt and her head continues to bobble against him until ropes of his cum release into her mouth. She swallows the salty substance and drops him out of her mouth. 

She licks her lips to gather whatever is pooled around her mouth. He yanks her to his feet and brings her lips to his again. He unhooks her bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. He kisses down her neck to her nipple and starts playing with the bud with his tongue. She moans at the feeling. He uses a hand to give attention to the other nipple. The manipulation grows wetness in between her legs again. Her hand goes to try and relieve the tension. His grip halts her movement, “Nuh-uh. The next time you come again is going to be on my cock, Princess.” He spins them around, so he can flop onto the bed. “Come ride me, Princess. Take what you want.” Lava must be running through her veins because she has never been more turned on by something. 

She straddles his waist and her hand goes between their bodies. The tip of his dick finds her entrance thanks to her help. She sinks onto his girth with her head thrown back. She can feel every single inch of him thanks to the position and he is hitting places within her she didn’t know existed. She anchors to his hilt, staying still so she can adjust to the feeling. “God, how can you feel this good?” she questions as she starts to raise her hips. Rafe chortles, “Because you are doing so well for me, Princess.” His tip remains inside of her before she slams herself back down of her. This is so much more different than she is used to and she loves it. She gets to set the pace. She gets to determine how hard it is. She knows Rafe doesn’t want her to think about Phelan, but she can’t help but curse him for never letting her experience this. He can tell she is driving pleasure from the harsh piercing of his cock, so he decides to show her how much better it can get. His hand grips her waist and he keeps her still. His hips buck up into her with all of his force. She lets out a pleasured scream as she jerks forward. Her hand lands on his bare chest and her nails start digging crescents into his skin. 

“God, Rafe. Keep going,” she begs between moans. Rafe grins up at her, “You like that, Princess? You like it when my dick drills into you? What do you think the people of England would say if they saw their beloved princess likes to be fucked like a dirty whore?” “I love it so much, Rafe. Please, let me move,” she requests. Rafe’s grasp on her loosens a little and he helps lead her down his shaft. The combination of both their movements gets him to hit her G-spot repeatedly. She starts to constrict and a bud of pressure starts to form in her stomach. Rafe’s thumb presses onto her clit, moving in a circular motion to intensify her enjoyment. 

The tension of her walls around him causes him to spasm inside of her. She senses that his end is near; regardless, she doesn’t get him to pull out. She wants to experience everything that he has to offer. He is brought over the edge before her and he doesn’t think about removing himself from her as he does so. She can feel his seeds seeping into her, continuing her descent onto him to come too. His pace doesn’t let up and his thumb presses harder into her clit. “You can do it, Princess. Come for me. Show me how tight you can get for me,” he demands. The bud inside of her finally blooms into a flower and she comes undone around him. She drops so their chests are pressed against each other. Their drive doesn’t stop, just slows down until they have both finished coming down from their high. They clutch to each other like a baby koala to a mother koala. He smoothes her sweaty hair back with a kiss on her forehead. “You did so good,” he whispers his applause. “I am so proud of you. You made me feel so good. Did you like it, Princess?” She nods in his hold and kisses his collarbone, “I loved it. I’ve never felt like that during sex before.” “Well, that’s a damn shame. Whoever left you unsatisfied didn’t deserve you,” he notes.

The couple hold each other for a few minutes, taking in the serenity of being together at last. He slips out of her and they both feel the rush of their fluid out of her. She monitors as he moves around the room. She can hear the bathtub begin to run and he returns to place her into the warm water. Y/N scoots forward to let him in behind her. He rests her back against his chest and interweaves their fingers. The silence is good for their voices after all the noise they make during sex. “Why did you hate me before we even said a word to each other?” he ponders out loud. 

She shifts in his hold and rests the back of her head on his shoulder. Her shoulders meet her ears, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She can feel the outburst in his chest as laughter emits from his mouth. “Don’t play stupid with me, Princess. I’m talking about how I almost got frostbite when you first set eyes on me.” 

“Right, that. You are going to think I was a little ridiculous or hate me for what I tell you.” 

“I promise I won’t. I just want to know what triggered our four-year feud. You know so that I don’t make the same mistake with the next princess I meet and I can bed her faster than four years.”

She giggles and slaps the arm wrapped under her armpits. Her mood changes at the remembrance of the topic she is about to disclose. “I hated you because you had a dad,” she speaks out into the world. His arm close in around her some more to provide her with comfort. He kisses her cheek, “Princess, everyone, at least biologically, has a dad.” “I know. Except, you had a dad when I just lost mine. I didn’t want to go to the Olympics that year. It would’ve been filled with too many memories of the person I lost because my dad used to take me,” she clarifies. “And I was right. Everything reminded me of my dad. It hurt too much to be there. However, I had to maintain my composure because the world was watching and when I saw that you were there with your dad treating you like how my dad used to treat me, I envied what you had.” He nods to show that he is still listening. “It was a stupid thing to get upset at. It’s not like you had any control over it. Then, you reciprocated my attitude and I guess we got into a vicious cycle.” He plays with her fingers, “I see, I’m sorry that you felt that way and that I didn’t give you a chance before being rude to you too. I knew you lost your father and I didn’t think about that. “You don’t need to apologize. I guess this whole thing is just a miscommunication,” she makes it out to be what it truly is. Rafe’s chin digs and lets up from her head, “Yeah, I’m just glad we cleared everything up. I love you.” “Me too. I love you too,” she concurs. 

They get out of the water and wrap themselves in the fluffiest robes. Their hands are connected as they head back into the bedroom. They flop down onto the bed and he loses himself in his thought. She rests her head against his chest, “What are you thinking about?” “I hate your room,” he articulates. She lifts her face to look at him, “Why?” “Because it doesn’t have any of your beautiful personality. I mean where were your smutty books? Where were your Scream posters? Where were the other colours of the rainbow?” he justifies. Her head falls back onto his chest, “Apparently all of those things don’t match the palace’s aesthetic.” “That’s stupid. I’m going to help you add some life into your room and we can start with some of my sweaters. I want to leave you with some piece of me when I go back home,” he informs. Her eyes find the bright blue sweater hanging in his open closet. Her heart skips a beat at his offer. “I like the sound of that. I have a feeling you are going to get me in so much trouble,” she thinks out loud. “I am. I’m going to turn you into such my rebellious princess.” 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @tv3verett

[astrophileous]

hi! is there any chance you could write a scenario for spencer with a plus sized reader? love your writing! congrats on the milestone and happy birthday month 💕

tyyy so much anon 🥺❤️ I hope you're happy with how this turned out 💞

Warning(s): fem!plus-sized!reader; I legit think there's no warning for this. not even swearing. but pls lmk???

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer looked down when he felt you shuffle against him. "Cold?"

The two of you were lounging on the couch with Spencer sitting on one of its end and your head leaning on his chest. Your legs were curled up on the cushion underneath a tiny blanket, the flimsy material barely doing anything as you pressed yourself even closer towards your boyfriend, trying to chase the warmth from his body heat to combat the chill running down your spine. Spencer noticed what you were trying to do and instantly tugged at the other blanket on his lap, laying the material gently around you and smiling when he heard you sigh in appreciation.

"What about you, Spence?"

"I'll be fine. I run hot."

"Mmh. Can't argue with that."

Spencer squeezed your thigh in response to your cheeky remark, your whole body shaking in laughter before you focused your attention back on the TV screen ahead.

It was a rarity for Spencer to find himself home safely at 8 o'clock on a Friday night, not to mention to have you home at the same time as him instead of at the ER tending to patients. On nights like this, Spencer made sure to always cherish the time with you in whatever way you liked, even if it meant he had to sit through nearly five hours of a Hallmark movie marathon after stuffing his stomach full with greasy Chinese takeouts.

The man was head over heels in love with you, and he would do just about anything to keep that mesmerizing smile permanently on your face.

"That's adorable," you said breathlessly after a few minutes of silence.

Spencer didn't want to admit that he had just spent the last ten minutes getting absolutely gobsmacked by your beauty, so he quickly tore his gaze away and directed it back towards the TV screen. His confusion only tripled in size when he saw that nothing particularly stood out from the scene. It was just another shot of the two main characters having yet another one of their silly little arguments as a cheesy jingle played in the background.

"What is happening?" Spencer asked at last.

You glanced at his question and scoffed. "You weren't paying attention again, were you?"

Spencer had the audacity to grin, and it was pretty lucky of him to have been blessed with such a pretty face that could melt even the hardest ice around your heart.

"Okay, handsome. Listen carefully. So, what happened is, the girl—"

"Bess?"

"Yes, Bess. Well, she and Aidan decided to meet for lunch to talk about the deed to the land, right? But that talk didn't really lead anywhere as they ended up fighting, again, and Bess walked away from the restaurant. Aidan ran after her and they fought again on the sidewalk, but then they got interrupted by the rain."

"Of course. The rain. How original."

You hid your bemused smile before continuing, "The two of them ran for cover in this little bookstore after that. Bess was shivering because she was wearing this little black thing, and Aidan noticed. So like the gentleman he is, he took off his suit jacket and gave it to Bess. They both ended up spending a couple of hours in that little bookstore waiting for the rain to stop, and Bess wore Aidan's jacket for the rest of the day. She didn't notice she still had it until she went home in the evening."

Spencer nodded along as he waited for your recount to finish, expecting to find clarity by the end of it only to be met with an even bigger confusion than before.

"I still don't get it. You thought that it was adorable that... they got caught in the rain?"

"And they call you a genius?" you teased, shrieking when Spencer lunged forward to tickle your sides. "No, silly. Not the rain. The jacket."

"The jacket?"

"Yeah. I think it's nice." You smiled, your eyes crinkling as you turned back towards the TV. "I've always loved that. When the guy gives something of his for the girl to wear. His T-shirt, his jacket, his sweater. Anything. The girl would wear his clothes and they'd usually look too big on her and it all just feels so... domestic. There's a sense of belonging in the gesture itself, sort of a non-verbal way of him claiming the girl as his. A little territorial, perhaps. But I personally find the whole thing adorable."

After he was done hearing your explanation, Spencer found himself at loss for words. "I didn't know that. That's actually a thing?"

"It's a pretty common trope in romance books and movies. One of my favorites, too."

"And you like that? Having your boyfriend lend you his clothes to wear?"

"Well, I don't know. I, uh, I actually never tried it myself." You suddenly grew bashful as you started playing with the hem of your pajamas top. "Everyone I've dated has always been smaller than me, so I never got the chance to experience any of that."

"Sweetheart—"

"Relax, Spencer. It's fine," you assured him. "I'm not sad about it. Do I feel like missing out sometimes? Yes, maybe, but it's not like it's the end of the world. I'll survive just fine. Promise."

You resumed watching the rest of the movie after that, the short conversation being shoved to the back of your mind as you relished in the final scene of the movie where the guy, finally and inevitably, managed to win over the girl with an arduous chase through the airport concluded by a romantic confession in front of gate 4E.

After movie night on Friday, the following week unraveled in a hectic frenzy for you. The ER where you worked saw a full house nearly every single night, forcing you to take not only one, not two, but three extra shifts in a single week. By the time the next Friday rolled around, you were exhausted beyond belief, collapsing face first into bed as soon as you arrived home without even waiting for Spencer to get back from his week-long case in Idaho.

The following morning, you woke up to a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. You followed the scent in your sleepy haze until you came face to face with your boyfriend standing behind the stove, unruly curls and a handsome smile as he glanced up at the sound of your footsteps. You couldn't even imagine how dishelved you looked in that moment—with dried drool around your lips and pillow imprints on your cheek—but the way Spencer assessed you from the distance, it made you feel as though you were meant to be sculpted as a flawless copy of Aphrodite herself.

"Good morning, gorgeous," your boyfriend greeted as he pushed a plate of pancakes across the counter. "Breakfast?"

The two of you spent the entirety of breakfast telling each other about your respective week while enjoying Spencer's pancakes that, surprisingly, tasted even better than they smelled. After the dishes were washed, Spencer grabbed your hand and started leading you back towards your shared bedroom.

"Come with me for a moment. I wanna show you something," he said.

You trailed after Spencer in curiosity, compliantly fulfilling his order to sit on the bed as he vanished into the ensuite. Three minutes later, Spencer reappeared in front of you, donning a grin so enormous that it nearly distracted you from the foreign pair of clothes he had changed himself into.

"What do you think?" Spencer asked enthusiastically.

"What do I think?"

"Yeah!"

"It's cute, Spencer. Is it new?" Spencer nodded eagerly, confirming your suspicion. "I see. It's kinda... too big for you, don't you think?"

The hoodie Spencer was wearing came in your favorite color, but it hung on his lanky frame almost like a poncho. Spencer still looked good in it, though. You admired his talent to still appear attractive even when he was wearing something that didn't fit him properly.

"I picked out a bigger size on purpose," Spencer revealed, taking off the hoodie before extending it towards you. "Here, try it. I went two sizes above your usual so it should feel roomy."

Your perplexed stare zeroed in on the clothing in Spencer's hand. "Wait. I don't understand. Did you buy this for me?"

"Um, no? Well, technically yes." Spencer rubbed his neck, suddenly turning sheepish as his gaze found your eyes. "Remember last week when you told me about girls borrowing their boyfriends' clothes? And how you never got to experience that? Well, I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I went ahead and ordered this hoodie for myself but in a larger size. That way, you can steal it from me from time to time. Have something of mine you can wear when you want to."

Silence descended into the room in the wake of Spencer's declaration.

His heart was a sonorous thumping inside his chest. Spencer waited for you to say something, but your voice never came. It wasn't until the first sob broke through the quietude did Spencer realize that you were actually crying.

"Sweetheart? Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?"

The man knelt in front of you in no time, his palm clenching at the side as if he was ready to go into battle to fight whatever or whoever caused the shed tears in your eyes. You lifted your head just enough to see him, smiling shakily when you saw the taut lines above the bridge of his nose.

"I can't believe you bought this hoodie for me," you muttered once your sobs had subsided.

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's why you cried? Because I bought you a hoodie?"

"It's not just because of a hoodie, Spence. It's the fact that you cared. You listened to my silly thoughts and you remembered." You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, feeling him melt against the touch. "This is the nicest, most considerate thing anyone has ever done for me."

"That just breaks my heart, gorgeous. You deserve so much more. I'm literally doing the bare minimum."

"No, you're not. You're doing so much. You're doing everything, Spencer."

You kissed him, then. Urgently and vehemently; trying to convey just how intensely your heart felt for him. When you pulled away, Spencer was wearing a big smile undoubtedly identical to your own.

"I love you so much, Spencer. You know that, right?"

Spencer's smile blossomed. In his heart, he sketched the way your face looked in that moment to burn your beauty into the depth of his mind.

"Not as much as I love you, sweetheart."

[cowboyfromh3ll]

how about for arthur, john, and charles: your hcs on how each would react to a shyer (not naive) reader who has a crush on him and keeps needing his “help” for various things so she can get his attention, and eventually working up the nerve to be more forward and hopefully pique his interest. who would catch on the fastest? would any of them realize before or after she becomes more forward and how would they react from there? smut absolutely welcome 🙏🏻

HC for Shy!Reader ft. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Charles Smith

HCs are so easy and fun to write

Warnings: smut

Arthur Morgan

Arthur did not allow you much time to go and ask for help given his repeated and lengthy absences from camp

But when he was around to help, he put his all into it

No matter how mundane or small it may be, he always made sure to help you until satisfaction. Similar to the way he helps random people around the map, he helps you in the same way. 

But the level at which you asked for help was quite baffling to Arthur, but he never made a comment on it. He would never want to make you feel as though you were somehow less competent at doing things than the average person

He liked the way you would try to strike up conversation with him whenever he was helping you, recounting his travels to you in detail upon request

Part of him wondered why the two of you didn’t just talk more often outside of his time helping you. What he didn’t know is that you were unable to come up with a decent, not-too-forthcoming, excuse as to why the two of you should spend more time together alone 

He probably wouldn’t catch onto that fact too quickly, instead thinking you were just a person who wasn’t afraid of asking for help

He’d definitely think something was up when he realizes he’s the only one you ask

Maybe he’s just a dependable guy? He thinks to himself

But when you ask him to help you go fishing, come to find out you didn’t even have a rod, it was too late to back out as the two of you were already alone down the lake at Clemens point

He felt quite touched when you told him you really just wanted to spend time together, and that you weren’t sure how else to ask

Insisted you be more forward with him to establish a level of comfort between you two, but he still found it quite cute when you would shyly ask him for help

Eventually led to you two becoming very close, noticeably sweet on each other. Even the gang was able to catch on.

NSFW

Even though the two of you had been in an established relationship, your bashfulness did not end.

Asking for help for sexual matters was something you subtly hinted at or wordlessly requested, rather than outright saying it

Arthur himself was a man who needed clear permission, and your hints would be met with crudely sexual questions asking for confirmation

“You wanna have sex? Is that what you’re saying? Or am I understanding this all wrong.” 

His forwardness would have you burying your burning face in your shared cot as you nodded

Arthur was a very perceptive man, so when asking if he was rubbing your clit just right or if he needed to slow his thrusts down, you’d squeak out an embarrassed response

When you wanted him to touch you in a certain place, you’d nudge him in the direction, yank on his hand or hair, or simply just bashfully point wordlessly

Makes sure to constantly ask questions because he knows you’re not very vocal when it comes to self advocacy

Extremely tender and very patient with you, just wants to make you feel comfortable in the end to be able to vocalize your needs

John Marston (my pookie)

This man is as dense and stupid as a bag of rocks

The man himself doesn’t even know what he wants, so figuring out what you want is mental gymnastics on its own

He’s around pretty often helping around camp, and he doesn’t mind taking on the brunt of your chores as well

Doesn’t realize what you’re trying to do so sometimes he turns you down, saying he’s too busy

“Are you really that helpless?” 

He’d stand there confused as you stormed off angrily, only to have him follow you around camp begging for forgiveness

“I ain’t mean that, I’m happy to help you. I’m a fool, honest.”

You’d forgive him eventually

If it’s a more tedious task you need help with, he would get into the zone. Honing in all his attention while trying to fulfill his efforts in helping you as competently as he can

Focuses so much, that sometimes if you try to strike up a conversation about his day, he’ll either shut you down, or be so concentrated he won't even register your question

“Hold on, can you stop talking for a sec? I’m tryna concentrate.”

Would be equally as confused when you huff angrily and turn away while crossing your arms

You realize yourself that John isn’t picking up any hints, so you offer your own help as a form of “repayment” for everything he’s done for you

Is also dense about that 

“I appreciate the help, little lady. Though I don’t see why you’d willingly offer to help to fix a wagon wheel.”

Kinda laughable how oblivious he is

Eventually you have to muster up all the courage possible to ask him on a date to town

Emphasize the word date. Or else he’ll think you just want help with errands or something

Will accept, but won’t shut up the whole time about how sudden this is and how he would’ve never seen it coming

NSFW

Would get very excited if you even hint at something sexual

Much like Arthur, he’d ask for confirmation, but much more enthusiastically

“So you wanna fuck right? Right?!” 

Kinda desperate but who can blame him, you’re equally as horny

Get so caught up in excitement he gets straight to it, has to be reminded to ask questions and check up on you

The one time where you actually feel compelled to tell him things straight up instead of just hinting at it

“For the love of god, slow down Marston!”

He would for a few minutes, then get back to it

Would still be shy with asking, but you get so frustrated with how dense he is you’re kinda forced to

His excitement rubs off on you, so he doesn’t mind at all when you just shove his face between your thighs, that does all the speaking for you

Says shit like “You like that, don’t you?” without actually waiting for a response

Gets very embarrassed when you say no and ask him to do it another way

Charles Smith

This man's love language is literally acts of service

He’d probably end up falling for you in the process of helping you out so often

Will be more than happy to take you up on every request for help

Not only does it make you happy, but it makes him feel good for being able to help someone

Literally thrives off of it

He would be the one to pick up on it the fastest, but he wouldn’t make a comment. He doesn’t want to scare you off by being too forward and therefore curtailing your requests for help

Would be very intimate while helping you

“Hey, come closer to take a look at how I do it.”

You would lean in incredibly close, so much so that you’d be able to hear his breathing

Would sometimes take your hands and make you do it as well

Hands would linger far longer than necessary while helping you

And you aren’t naive! You knew what he was doing! He was flirting with you!

From an outside perspective, it appeared as though the two of you were just sitting around together and flirting rather than doing something to help you

“Like this?” You’d ask, which was followed by a giggle

It was pure self indulgence

He would often approach you himself and ask if you needed help on anything

Other times, he’d ask if you wanted to learn something new, showing you how to make weapons or how to identify certain plants from one another

Some tasks would be found mundane by others, but it was the most entertaining thing in the world as long as Charles was teaching you

You would feel most comfortable with him with asking him out, your question sounding more like a mutual profession of love from one another

NSFW

So so gentle

Much like in your relationship, you’d feel far more comfortable expressing your wants and desires to him

But you still struggle to maintain eye contact while saying it

If you turn your face away during sex he’ll gently cup your cheek and move your head to face him

Can pick up on your body language if you don’t feel too vocal

Will slow down or pick up the pace based on how your body reacts

Your moans are also a good indicator for him to know

Will also ask you questions before and after sex, like your some sort of food critic and you’re giving him feedback on his dish

You guys will probably sit down and have whole talks about your sex life, as embarrassed as it makes you, but he finds it necessary

Guy is a huge giver, in no time, he’ll know your body and what you do and don’t like like the back of his hand

[longing-for-rain]

I don’t even understand the character Sokka stans are stanning. It’s not even Sokka. It is like they are taking the big strong tough guy Sokka thinks he is and acting like that is his actual character when it isn’t. I know not all of them are z*kkas but it does seem like atla renaissance and z*kka popularity added to this trend of taking Katara traits and giving them to Sokka instead

Me neither? I honestly don’t dislike Sokka as a character. I never particularly related to him like I do with other characters, but what frustrates me is how the fandom treats him in relation to other characters, especially Katara.

I definitely agree with you that there was a noticeable shift with the ATLA renaissance in 2020. I was in the fandom long before then and the biggest shift I saw was character bashing taking a faux-progressive spin. For example, Mai bashing used to involve calling her ugly and abusive, but shifted into shoving her into sapphic side ships for the aesthetic instead (while still making jabs at her appearance and demeanor, of course, because people can’t be normal about lesbians). As for Katara, it’s even worse. I’ll get into that.

I remember that historically, Katara has been one of the most bashed and hated on characters in the fandom. People would call her bossy and self important, say she was too emotional, that she was too rude, that she didn’t care about other people’s problems, etc. It was blatant back then, but I honestly see the same trends now, just more covertly. People acting like Katara is not as mature as Sokka, not “mom friend,” or otherwise downplaying the responsibilities she had to take on, fundamentally, are operating on the same logic. They do it in a very jokey way a lot of the time or even act like they’re “letting her be a kid” but really it’s just erasing the nuance of her character in the same way overtly misogynistic fans once did.

Because here’s the thing. We can all recognize Katara was forced into a parental role at an early age and that wasn’t fair to her. But acting like that was something that randomly happened on its own is not addressing the problem. But these fans refuse to address the problem by answering the question of why Katara constantly has to take this role…because that would require them to hold Sokka and Aang accountable for their actions and these people will not do that.

I really do think this is tied in with zukka too. I will say that I’m not a zukka anti. I actually really enjoy some zukka content because it can give a refreshing perspective. But I do see a lot of characterizations that are deeply annoying because they really seem like they’re trying to replace Katara. They want the Zutara dynamic but want slash. And I know these characterizations are no longer unique to zukka, but I would agree they were popularized by it.

Just off the top of my head:

The character who is the first of the group to trust Zuko? That was Katara. Sokka was the one in favor of leaving him to die whereas Katara trusted him twice during Book 2.

The character who emotionally connects with Zuko? That’s Katara.

The character who Zuko feels safest letting his guard down around? That’s Katara.

The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma? That’s Katara.

The character known for showing the most compassion to others? That’s Katara.

The character who primarily bears the burden of having to step up into a parental role? That’s Katara.

The character who represses their emotions to be strong for others? That’s Katara.

And yet, for some reason, there is this new wave of fans who take all of these traits central to Katara and give them to Sokka instead. It’s just frustrating. Sokka is his own character. He’s different. I really just think this is a new brand of misogyny where we take traits like these for granted in female characters but overemphasize them in male characters.

[indigos-stardust]

Violet, Blue, And Bruised All Over: MOOOOM VIO BIT MEEEE-

ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ ᵛᶦᵒˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵛᶦᵒˡᵉⁿᵗ, ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ˢᵉˡˡ ʰᶦᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᶦᵐᵃˡ ˢʰᵉˡᵗᵉʳ

sorry for being so late lol, reblogs and comments appreciated <3 I like hearing y'all's thoughts

Part 1/ Part 2 / Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5

The two boys sit bruised and scratched. They had to remove their shirts to let Green "assess the damage."

Red's returned with their home medical kit. Quickly apologizing for taking so long, Red quickly excuses himself to get some ice to aid the swelling as soon as his bumbling fingers lay out the basic bandages and disinfectant by Greens spot on the coffee table.

Blue feels his heart sink lower. He really just left. Red left. He doesn't blame him. Red hates conflict, especially when its between them. Before Red went upstairs, the boy had shot him one last look, before scurrying up. He was disappointed. Deeply hurt by Blue. That after all the conversations and love and care he'd been given, he'd just callously screwed it up or something. It was stupid and it made Blue want to bash his head into the floor.

Vio starts to stand, seemingly to leave entirely, it carries that same air of being better than everyone else and- Well, as much as Blue has always hated it, it shows self control over the situation. He isn't cowed and he isn't some child that's going to be rightly chastised like Blue is.

Green roughly snatched Vio's arm, so fast it was almost a slap, and yanks him back down. Vio sits.

Red, from his view watching from above the stairs, would have genuinely had a lot more anxiety over the tension and fighting if he didn't want to do the same towards both of them. And it was Green doing it to, not just some school teacher or superior knight. There would be no escape for the broken and the bruised.

Vio can feel Green's eyes searing into him. He refuses to meet them. Green's hands move and turn parts of him to check the worst of it. He tsks at the inflammation at the base of his ear where Blue had yanked it. Grumbles at the long bleeding scratches from glass that's still in his skin. The cleaning alcohol burns. He endures it.

At some point Blue reaches out to the medical kit, likely to start taking care of himself instead of quietly waiting for Green to finish tending to Vio's. Or maybe to save himself from the aggressive cleaning process that even Vio struggles to restrain his winces of pain to.

His hand is smacked just as quickly. Both Blue and Vio know what the other knows. And that is that Green is becoming more tense. Blue hates this. Green's finished up with Vio and grimly begins accessing Blue in the same cold cut manner. Shock colors his face, until its replaced with a dark scowl. A touch of disbelief still resides though. He must've found the bite mark. Because Vio bit him like a fcking animal.

Eventually the hard stings and pressure resides, as the last of the gashes and cuts are firmly bandaged. Green's not the best at this sort of thing, Blue has always been better, the ties and bandages will probably come undone before its ready. Blue doesn't dare mention it.

Green slumps over, so much tension leaving all at once. It almost shocks Blue for a moment, thinking Green had fallen. Green's head hands low, his messy bangs covered his face, ears hanging low. One of his hands covers his face, seemingly too exhausted to know what to do anymore.

"I'm going to give you both one chance to explain."

Green rises, staring at the ceiling as he dips backwards, resting hs body weight on his arms behind him, "I don't know what Vio said or why Blue felt the need to punch in response but-"

OH HE KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN- Blue always gets blamed for everything!

"He's the one who PUNCHED ME?!" Blue can't help it- Clenched first raise to his heart and anger has started up again- He can't just sit there a single moment more he can't he can't he can't-

Green's head snaps up, posture upright once more. With slightly raised shoulders and cautious look he briskly locks eyes with Blue. Red gasps, halfway down the stairs in the distance. Blue can hear the relief, and immediately his heart rests, even if just a bit. Red believed him.

Red shares a growing confused look with Green.

Ever so slowly, Green's eyes trail towards the silently stoic and stubborn blonde that hadn't spoken a single word. Vio stares ahead, drilling a hole into the wall, with that quiet intensity that has always unsettled him.

The moment of uncertainty makes Blue's head buzz, heart pumping full of adrenaline for some unknown reason. The moment before battle, when you wait for your enemy's first move.

"I did."

Green jaw drops. Red squeaks out a strangled noise of shock.

"Vio," Green starts, "Wha- Why? WHY??"

"He deserved it."

The icy phrase spears through his gut, twisting cruelly. The burning nearly doubled within seconds. An icy blast tears through his insides and spreading- If he doesn't move now he'll be consumed before he even processes anything.

"I DIDN'T do anything wrong!" It's nearly spit out, his face in an ugly death stare. Blue forces himself to not say more or burst out in loud yells or punches. That's how he always wins.

A swift uncaring response as Vio begins studying his nails, "Except exist apparently."

OH LISTEN YOU LITTLE FU-"

But before Blue can strangle him, Green grips their shoulders and forces them apart. Blue's chest is heaving and Vio is grimacing as he tries to pry off or at least ease the tight grip Green has them in. It is. Very, very tight.

Two seconds pass and it's clear they've both shut up. Not without giving each other dirty looks of course.

So they're bandaged up. Vio probably doesn't have a concussion. His wrist could use some work though. Blue is probably hopefully not going to get rabies and his nose doesn't seem.. too broken. Neither get a full potion. The deeper cuts become more shallow, but the potion only takes care of the worst. Their bruises are even more inflammed now with the passage of time, red turning to dark purples and blues. Green would love the irony if he wasn't still fuming.

Green tells them both to head to bed.

But before anyone can do anything Red appears, ever the peacemaker, "Hahaha- OKAY, uhm so-."

It's clear Red is trying to make his way into the situation and try to do some damage control. One hand a soft pressure on Green's shoulder, and the other holding his hand as he anxiously looks between all of them.

"No ones even eaten dinner yet! So, you know, we should probably make some food and could we please just take a break and talk about how everyone feels-"

Green cuts him off, softly this time, deflated but not defeated, "We can make something quick for ourselves. They need to go right now."

There's something about the tone, maybe the exhaustion, the pain? But there is a gentleness and understanding with compassion for Red. And a silent plea.

Red is visibly dispirited and disheartened but seems to accept it, nodding mutely.

Green embraces Red.

Green blankly hands them their bloodied tunics and shirts, before tilting his head towards the stairs to gesture they leave.

Vio leaves before Blue does, so before Vio makes it beyond halfway up the stairs, Green calls his attention for a moment.

Why out of all people was Vio the one who started it? Why would he ever do that?

Vio's response is the same. "He deserved it."

Blue somberly mutters something about how he was just saying about how Vio could lift his weight on chores for once.

Vio is gone. Red is conflicted and hurt. Blue only just starts to say sorry, but Green is already telling him to just g o.

Blue does.

Slow heavy steps echo through the house as they head upstairs and to their separate rooms.

Red hates fighting. It was too late, there was nothing to say anymore.

He still cries though.

He tries to be strong.

Green needs him tonight.

[veninorchid]

Bridgerton S3 Review

Dearest gentle reader, I am disappointed, sadly.

And as I respect your opinion, so too, shall you respect mine. I'm not here to bash on #Polin fans and the fact that they enjoyed it, but what -was- season 3 of Bridgerton truly?

I love the Mondriches, but do they really need so much screen-time? What did their own ball add to the story exactly? Had the same feeling about the Dankworth-Finch ball at the end, but at least that one proved its necessity as -the reveal all- ball. Because there was of course no Duke of Hastings (Simon) to host it, so they improvised.

This season had too many stories going on at the same time which were all fighting for the spotlight when it should've focused on #Polin, cause that is what was advertised/hyped. It did not deliver…

Season 1 - Daphne and Simon They had the most screen-time and all other stories got a little bit of shine. But even then some of those had either Daphne or Simon in the picture/background. (Marina-Colin, with Daphne as chaperone is one of the examples) None of the other stories distracted from the main focus.

Season 2 - Kanthony Same here. While there was a lot going on in this season with Anthony courting Edwina and going all the way to the alter with her (creative license, since it didn't happen in the book) and then on the other hand we were seeing the other side with his having the thickest desire and longing for Kate. You could cut that shit with a knife, I tell you. But no side stories were overpowering. It was 90% lead character -stuff. Season 3 - Benedict---, I mean #Polin -minus the actual #Polin Were their (the directors/screenwriters) initial thoughts that we've been seeing them for 2 seasons, so we don't have to pay that much attention to the leads? Wrong! That was friendship, this is love, longing and passion. So much new ground to explore for these two. Little scenes like dancing in the church, stealing loving glances is cute and all, but we got nothing more than that. Nothing memorable.

No wait, we got carriage frolicking in part 1 and a mirror first time in part 2. You're right, I apologize. Anything else? Name any other thing you remember from this whole season. I'll wait, seriously.

Did maybe the night scene come up in your memories? Where they had an angry make out and he once again let his hand venture below? I felt the anger/passion in the coming together and pushing her against the shop, sure. The quick flash of him reaching between her thighs was more of a recycled scene from episode 4 or even from S03 Kanthony. I mean honestly. Was there really even a chance he'd take her in the streets? It felt unnecessary and forced. The dialogue was good and would've been better at their home where it's believable they could enter an intimate scene that -could- be finished if they so wanted it. Or not if his anger won over his desire. Did I mention they were both drinking before they met? I didn't say drunk, I said drinking.

I guess they improvised the whole Mme Delacroix scene (before the angry make out) with her offering advice and booze just to give Pen a reason to drink and coincidentally be in Colin's path for the scene? Wasted screen-time. Do I also need a drink to feel the -love- this season?

First part, Colin helping and chasing Pen. Second part, let's ignore and distance myself from her. They really stretched out Colin's pulling back from her because of the whole Whistledown thing, when they could've done fast forwards, saying things like 'Colin, it's been weeks. Or it's been so long, can we get passed this' just to show the time frame. But instead we get long minutes of silence and ignoring each other. Filming Colin from the back, zooming in. Then from the front zooming in. Then him watching her leave the house, slowly getting up from sleeping on the sofa, walking towards his desk. Lifting and opening and reading her old letters. Do you have any idea how long that feels? When she exited the bedroom and delivered her dialogue he could've already been behind his desk. Did we see Simon (S01E02) walk into the room, open his father's desk, take out the unopened letters etc.? No, the flashback ends with him already seated and holding the letters. Same thing could've been done here.

Oh, let's not forget side character-stuff. Let's talk more about that.

Again, I cannot stress it enough. Mondriches. Duke of Kent stuff and moving up, is fine. Seeing them struggle constantly onscreen is not. Wasted screen-time. You can easily have us hear about that in conversation. How miserable and sad he is because he had to close the bar when he became part of the ton. So many ways to handle that. Moving to part 2. Why did we have to get the whole preparation for their ball? What did it add to the story exactly? Just let everyone arrive at the ball and let that be the first we all see of the decorations. Did we see Lady Danbury prepare for the huge conservatory ball in S2? Lady Trowbridge's ball in S1? All of Her Majesty's balls? No, so it was wasted screen-time.

Francesca's story was sweet, bless her, but also unnecessary detailed. Was it the autism angle they were trying to push forward? I'm all for it, but only when you have a series with more than 8 episodes. (God, I miss 22 episode series) Because she is still a side character in #Polin's book, no matter which way you turn it. At Francesca's wedding we had the whole vows scene and everything and the two LEADS!!!! were stealing glances at each other while standing behind the whole ass family. You're the leads, act like it! It felt like S1 and S2 with them being in the background.

We all know Bridgerton's known for taking liberties with the wardrobe. The tailored waists for Pen enhance her body beautifully, but Cressida's wardrobe is bordering… scratch that! has taken a 250 MPH free-fall, into ridiculousness. I also absolutely did not care for -seeing- the reasons behind Cressida claiming to be Whistledown. Should've just kept her as a bitch. That's what we enjoyed about her. Fine, you decided on that development for her character, so here's an idea. She was so chummy with Eloise. Could've just had her tell Eloise that she was being pressured by her parents to marry and then being send to the country to live with a horrid aunt. Wasted screen-time. You only have 8 episodes to work with for crying out loud.

And then there's the side character of all side-characters. Benedict. Didn't they make the very -deliberate- decision to push back Benedict and Sophie's story in favor of #Polin as S3? To then give me so much useless Bentilly sexy time; Time that could've easily been given to #Polin things. If you can make up stories about him being confused as to his sexuality, you can just as easily come up with new, none book, stories for the actual leads. Could've left everything they forced on us about Benedict for his actual season. What's gonna be left for his own season? Wasted screen-time. Should've made him absent, continue the art-school in the background, anything. I mean, an extended honeymoon for Kanthony instead of a forced story to have them onscreen. Do the bloody same for Benedict and focus on #Polin. Every time we saw Benedict, he was playing twister with Tilly and later with what's his name (don't even care) It's not relevant, it's wasted screen-time.

I'm gonna end my review (rant!) with one last thing.

Shallow kisses. Heck it's acting, so you don't have to shove your tongue down your co-actor's throat, but keep your lips open and hollow out your mouth to at least make us think you're playing tongue-twister. As soon as their lips touched, they closed their mouths and it became a fervent peck-fest. Like kissing air and practicing in front of a mirror. Yes, they look good kissing each other, but the kissing itself was bleh.

First kiss in part 1 was going the right direction and was pretty believable, but after that… shallow as f*ck. And to think they were supposed to be increasing in passion after that first kiss. All of them were closed-mouth pecks, I'm sorry. Was it the height-difference that didn't allow them to actually suck each other's face off? ---------------

I will not do a TL;DR, because if you skip this review/rant, you will not have missed anything. Have a great day people.

Yours truly, Venin Orchid (aka Lady Regency-nerd) PS: did anyone notice the nice touch at the end? The Whistledown Silhouetted lady on the top of the page had been changed to look more like Penelope. You're welcome <3

[lyssala]

I was trying to figure out They are stuck in my mind at all times and when I was thinking, I realized oh OH they're the same picture. So really I apparently just have a trope hierarchy to which if you resemble Roy/Riza in anyway you skyrocket to the top of my list.

Some ramblings about Clorinde/Wriothesley under the cut because I have no where else to do it. I'm sorry to all the people who've been my followers for years and I literally just come here once a year to drop a ship fixation LOL Here's my big dose of copium I guess 🤣

(For the record, I have nothing against the popular pairings for either of them; I multiship just fine. There isn't an ounce of ship bashing in this because 1. that's rude lol 2. discrediting canonical relationships because they threaten the chances of my pair being on top defeats the purpose of analyzing characters)

(Updated: 8/25 just to acknowledge a few other various things before the end of the Fontaine era)

Roy & Wriothesley: fight using their hands (in different ways but still; fire and ice though); masks their true goals behind a facade (whether staged like Roy or Wriothesley just letting people believe what they want about him); most people don't know their true personality/history; hold a position of power in what most people assume is ambition but really they just want to do good to those who need it.

Riza & Clorinde: observant/quiet personality; the world's best shot; the best poker face; straight faced humor; tough as nails; sass and teasing is a love language; recognized as the top of their respective fields and respected by many.

It's uncanny right??

1. Familiar With One Another

It's so clear they have history together. This is not their first mission, first interaction. They can read the lines between what is being said to understand something more, that is the definition of knowing and understanding how someone operates. It means some kind of history.

Between her greeting upon walking in the room (Clorinde: What's that look on your face? I thought I made good time on the way back.) and her knowing how he is about tea (Wriothesley: Want some tea? Clorinde: Not particularly. If you want to drink some that badly, just say so.) Those are not things you would know/say if you don't know a person. She knows he's giving her a weird look, or a look she wasn't expecting. He offers tea, and instead of saying no thank you, she's just no, but I know you do and you don't need me as an excuse 🤣

Even when he clarifies for her that he does want tea, he asks her again, maybe knowing she does actually like it but only if he's already making it - which I do all the time to Ren LOL (Wriothesley: Fine, I'd like to get some tea. Want me to get you a cup too, since I've already made it?) and that time she agrees (Clorinde: Eh, might as well then, I suppose.)

Idk like these are people who know each other. They know their quirks and their mannerisms. They talk to each other as equals (he doesn't question when she's telling the Duke wtf are you looking at me like that I'm right on time, and he's just like I know you're right on time you always are) I just think that's a big deal??

During the wrap-up of the main story quest, when talking to Charlotte when Clorinde is dodging interview attempts and Charlotte guesses how Clorinde knew Charlotte had an interview at Meropide (Clorinde: In truth, all Monsieur Neuvillette asked me was "When did the Fortress become so friendly towards the media?" I told him that it was best not to speak too soon — there's no guarantee that Wriothesley will make a personal appearance). It's likely that Clorinde was in the room when Neuvillette spoke the question aloud, but I also like him going up to her just to ask her like she'd know the answer to what Wriothesley was doing. I mean, she did still know the answer: that just because Charlotte had an interview, Wriothesley probably wouldn't show up. She knows he hates publicity as much as Clorinde does - I do have to imagine its because they've talked about it, they're friends.

In that same scene, Clorinde says to Navia that she seems interested in the Fortress, and Navia says duh, but that man gave me a headache (Navia: Of course! Ugh, that Wriothesley... I still remember going down to the Fortress to grill him for information on my father's case. Boy, did he take me for a ride... without telling me anything, of course). Clorinde then is like, yeah, but he invited you to tea, and it was good, right? (Clorinde: But he did invite you to tea, didn't he? Navia: Two large pots of it, in fact — it was good tea, though. Clorinde: I have to agree. The tea there is very good). My girl, how much time do you spend down there to know he'll habitually ask and that it's always good. Also, lol, the fact that she gave him such a hard time saying no, I don't want any tea, but if you want it, I'll have it, but then to Navia, Clorinde is much more straightforward about how good his tea is because she isn't teasing Navia.

Then of course their bets. (Wriothesley: I win this bet. You owe me a present. Clorinde: Very well, it was indeed just as you said.) This is a thing they do and apparently have done before. She literally talks about how much he gets into it, implying she's learned to go along with it because she knows he enjoys it.

My girl MY GIRL how do you know what kind of gifts he likes, or that he enjoys it all if you haven't done this a million times (Clorinde: Wriothesley gets really invested in that sort of thing. But he couldn't care less about what he wins in the end. Clorinde: You could give him mint plants that you plucked from the side of the road, and he wouldn't even mind). I also have to wonder if the reason he doesn't set a stipulation on what he wants, is because he likes to see what she comes up with, what reminds her of him and that's why he's so happy with anything - that's a little too me with the ship colored glasses on but still (the only other time we see him given a gift he's appreciative, but poor sweet Neuvillette has to explain it first so I can't judge Wriothesley's reaction in comparison).

A smaller thing is Navia always complaining about how hard it is to talk to Wriothesley while Clorinde just bubbles about calling the Duke by his first name and how he likes making bet and loves gifts 🤣 (Navia: If only he was that easygoing when it came to talking business...) I know it's because Wriothesley intentionally avoids Navia due to whatever promise he made with her father. Still, the image of Navia's best friend being super chill with the Duke of Meropide while Navia is exhausted by the thought of talking to him is so superb. Chefs kiss on that dynamic, Hoyo (also can we talk about how the trio of Wrio, Clorinde, and Navia doesn't get nearly enough love and I'm genuinely saddened over that).

I guess one last thing for this section because I don't know where else to fit it, with Wriothesley, to everyone else Clorinde is Miss Clorinde, including to her when they're in public but when Wriothesley is talking to Neuvillette when he's delivering all the gifts, she's just Clorinde (Wriothesley: I have to hand it to Clorinde. Just a simple gift delivery, and she has the great and mighty Iudex at her beck and call.) possibly because Neuvillette would be one of the few people to know they have a relationship outside of work? Though Clorinde is just like oh yeah Wriothesley is just like that in front of a whole slew of people LOL so maybe it's an on work time/off work time thing 🤣 I don't necessarily have a clear analysis but I 💯 noticed it still.

2. Familiar With The Fortress

Moreso for Clorinde since obviously Wriothesley is familiar with it. I think the most clear indication there is for Clorinde spending time down there is through Sigewinne. The official livestream announcement image being a lovely example.

Okay, I know it's because her and Sigewinne were the two new characters and like I said Sigewinne doesn't leave Meropide all too often. Still there were plenty ways to promote them: in the infirmary, in Neuvillette's office (like they did later for her demo/trailer), at the dining hall in Meropide, streets of Fontaine, even no place at all. A choice was made to have them sitting in Wriothesley's office.

I mean Clorinde has to spend a decent amount of time down there??Sigewinne has her drink meaning either Clorinde was comfortable enough to brew Wriothesley's tea or he brewed it for her/them. It's his teas set that sits in his office in game. Again these were choices that were made LOL Clorinde is reading so she's clearly not there for business, just hanging out in his office with Sigewinne.

Also, Clorinde's little smile 🥹 Another is the dolphin (whale? looks dolphin to me) sticker on her book, meaning that Sigewinne made a sticker of Clorinde (like she did with Wriothesley and Neuvillette). Most of all implying that Clorinde is close enough to Sigewinne to get that honor and the fact it's on Clorinde's book, that she spends enough time in Meropide that Sigewinne also likes to stick stickers on Clorinde's things like Sigewinne does to Wriothesley.

Another small thing, was Clorinde in Sigewinne's character trailer. Navia was about to guzzle that tea when Clorinde stopped her like, no, girl, wait. She's 100% had Sigewinne's drink creations before there would be no reason for Clorinde to otherwise stop Navia. And even Clorinde's little cough compare to Navia's big wide eyes of shock lol Clorinde has been through it.

One last thing with Sigewinne is her voiceline about Clorinde and that she's been around Clorinde enough to try to learn how to read her (Sigewinne: Miss Clorinde doesn't make a lot of facial expressions when she talks. It's pretty difficult to tell what mood she's in from what her face is doing...She used the lipstick I gave her? Really? Hee-hee, I'm so glad she likes it! I knew that color would go great on her!). But, Sigewinne also knows her enough to give her gifts - and vice versa (Clorinde: And some tea-flavored hard candies. They're for Sigewinne) - because they're also friends. That can literally only happen if Clorinde has spent time there longer than what we've seen/were told.

Another thing I found so cute about Clorinde's connection to Meropide, was in Clorinde's story quest, when they went to the Meropide set (Clorinde: I admire the work put into the set. Still, it's obvious the script writer has never paid a visit to the Fortress of Meropide). Yes, yes, we know, you're apparently so familiar with it you can tell when details are missing, okay, girl.

A little more of a stretch with some ship goggles on but I can't help but laugh at the image of Clorinde smiling at the prospect of getting to throw her players in Meropide and as GM getting to play Wriothesley's job (Furina: So this set... is going to be a part of the script? Clorinde: Unfortunately, that is something I can neither confirm nor deny. Paimon: Um, anyone think Clorinde's smile is starting to look kinda scary...?). Still sort of unrelated but also Paimon's line in that scene was adorable too - if only there were snacks in prison...oh, there are if the Duke likes you LOL (Paimon: If only there were desserts and tea in real prison... Oh, wait, guess that's kind of how the Fortress of Meropide works if you're lucky.)

3. Same Sense of Humor

Their humor too omg they have like the same brand of humor and it's fantastic and because it's so dry; poor Neuvillette is always just like and you what now? LOL (Clorinde: He already has tons of tea in his office. I'm thinking about a set of legal codices. Wriothesley: That wouldn't happen to be a dig at my lack of legal awareness, would it... Clorinde: I'm sure His Grace doesn't consider the Fortress to be outside the law.)

Which she brings up again in her voiceline (Clorinde: I highly suspect that he keeps quiet about some of the methods he uses, but there's no way we can know) teasing again that he operates outside the law. The other thing about this line (though I don't put it very high, it could be a translation thing) but that she switches from I highly suspect to no way we can know. Why she didn't just say no way I can know, is probably because she does know or she knows she could know if she asked LOL

One of my favorite examples is from his character stories because omg I feel like it's the definition of their humor and it makes me laugh so much ("Why does it feel like you have even more free time than me? Your title wasn’t bought, was it?"

"One moment, please."

So saying, Wriothesley rifled through three drawers before producing several thick documents with a flourish. "Now, let me see... 'excellent management'... 'leading tax contributor'... 'specially granted this title...' Well, what do you know? Good guess, that's pretty much what happened after all.") I just feel like she's not afraid to challenge him with jabs as jokes and he's perfectly fine to take it. But I also think that's saying something because who else knows that they can poke fun at him like that, she knows because she knows him.

4. Work Life Together

I just wish Hoyo would tell us more about it 😩 like is it just because he hires her to do stuff for him? How did that start? Why? Even in the character story above, it's said it was over a business transaction what does that meaaaan? There's no way he, woke up one way and went, you know what time to hire this one Champion Duelist (she's the best but she's still not the only one) to do some secret missions.

When asked, he said it's because she's an independent party (Wriothesley: As a Champion Duelist, Miss Clorinde can be considered to be an independent party. I needed to find an exceptionally capable person to help me get through the impending crisis) but I mean she works for the court idk how that makes her independent? He does say "crisis" so it's likely she knew about a lot of the things going on ahead of time but I don't think he would have ever just hired someone just because of their station. Mainly because in doing so, he trusted her to be in his inner circle of the plan with Sigewinne - who Clorinde also has a relationship with as I went through already - and Neuvillette, two people we know Wriothesley does have canonical history with.

I saw someone say that Clorinde was already staying down there at the time already working with Wriothesley on the mission, so it was easy for her to get Freminet, but I couldn't ever find what in canon pointed to that. She was staying after at least, she was eating dinner there but they weren't expecting the gate to blow that night. You'd assume she'd leave after she told him everything he needed to know. But no it's like middle of the night/early morning and she's right down there with him. So part of the crisis he referred to is letting her in on one of the biggest secrets of Meropide because she knew exactly what to do and was ready and willing to do it.

I also really love Navia's voice line about him because it says that Clorinde knows what the arraignment he had with Callas was otherwise she wouldn't have told Navia it was okay (Navia: Trying to discuss anything with that guy is an exhausting process. Clorinde says I needn't have any reservations about collaborating with him in the scope of our preexisting agreement, but I still shouldn't trust everything that comes out of his mouth.) I imagine Clorinde bullying it out of him to make sure if was a safe arraignment for Navia (and maybe upon learning what it was and how it came about could've been the early steps in how Clorinde learned to trust him too because it's mutual - she's not a mercenary, she takes jobs with him because she also trusts him and what he does). But I also imagine that bit about not trusting a word that comes from his mouth (since Wriothesley hasn't ever lied that I recall, he hides things very well and doesn't clarify to make things appear certain ways, but I don't recall him flat out being deceitful) is either 1. Clorinde teasing him to Navia without her even knowing but it gives Clorinde a little amusement 2. She knows that man is gonna run his mouth one day to tease her and she's laying the foundations now so Navia won't listen to him 🤣

Or Clorinde is helping him keep his mysterious and bad boy persona because she knows he's actually a big softie - all wins to me lol because I genuinely can't see her believing he's untrustworthy; she literally risked her life to stay with him while they waited for Neuvillette, that doesn't sound like a person you didn't trust. Because again as far as I know a Champion Duelist is still not a mercenary.

5. Battle Couple

Which leads me back into my original Roy and Riza comparison, the way they fight together (Wriothesley: Clorinde is the best Champion Duelist you can find. Her combat prowess is already the stuff of legend. I've never fought her myself, but that's because there's never been a need for it.) I saw someone point out how does he know this when he'd likely have to make a special trip just to see her fight. I imagine some is word of mouth considering the phrasing of stuff of legend. Regardless of how he knew initially, he knows now because they've fought together before. He's never fought her, like he said, but they're fought side by side.

They had to. I'm sorry, this is not the delulu brain worms, you cannot tell me they didn't.

They likely had some sort of plan otherwise idk how she would know to shoot the door controls, but she's watching him from a distance, sees his signal of a simple nod and proceeds (she nods back to him but I couldn't find a gif that included it). I say because they didn't know what was going to happen; the plan was probably if it looks bad, shoot the controls I don't care where I am. I don't think it was as specific as I'll just give you a nod it's fine. He could've shouted, made a bigger motion, lots of things really - he didn't because he was literally running for his life and he knew she was watching, she'd see him and know what to do that's why I bring it up. That's why I refuse to believe they've never fought/worked side by side before, you don't just read people like that; you don't just trust people like that, especially two people who it's in their job description to be sus and careful with who you trust. You read faces, eyes, subtle signals from people you know and trust.

It reminded me so much of Roy and Riza in this scene when she can't speak from her injury and he is about to lose his mind and all she needs to do is move her eyes and he gets it.

(I mean, Roy and Riza have literally a lifetime of history, experience, and love for one another, I don't think Wriothesley and Clorinde have known each other as long or have that rich a history, but all I'm saying is I keep seeing them in each other, okay? Okay).

6. Similarities in Story and Interests

I threw this one down at the bottom because I’m not sure if they’re aware of their own similarities. It’s more meta in the sense I see the similarities without having canon to tell me that they know how similar they are. The first being the most obvious in that they were both orphaned as babies, and then were raised with foster parents/guardians until Clorinde was 10 and Wriothesley was a teen (Clorinde at least getting the better deal in that her Master who took her in was unconventional but seemingly cared for Clorinde unlike Wriothesley who had the rug ripped out from under him to see the truth of his family). Clorinde then presumably was looked after by Callas and Wriothesley grew up in Meropide. Both don’t talk about their personal lives often, but in both they’re story quests, they talk about their past pretty openly. So its possible they know, but because Hoyo is too afraid to put them in the same room again, I can’t say.

They also both hate newspapers and paparazzi. Clorinde talks about why she likes Charlotte by alluding to what other journalists put Clorinde through (Clorinde: Unlike some, [Charlotte] doesn't ambush me with her Kamera on my way to work, or follow me to the coffee shop to report on what I'm drinking today... And most commendably of all, she is well aware that I do not do interviews and doesn't nag me about it continuously). Wriothesley we know also turns down interviews frequently (Charlotte: And that's exactly why I'd like you to come conduct interviews with me. You're the best incubators of news, if you haven't noticed — and also, with you around, I'm sure I'll get to see that Duke. Paimon: Are you sure? Hasn't he turned you down several times already?). I imagine its because both have been victims of the journalists turning on them for a front page story (I’m sure everything with Callas was sensationalized, same with Wriothesley when he was a teen and also probably just how criminals are depicted in journalism to begin with).

The last bit comes from the Fontaine Tour Group video since so far the only two playable characters who have displayed knowledge on Remuria. Wriothesley both in the Archon Quests and his Friendship stories (Wriothesley: Then maybe you haven't heard of the story of ancient Remuria. To give you a quick rundown, Fontaine used to be ruled by the Remurian Dynasty) and Clorinde in the Fontaine Tour Group video (Clorinde: …oh, they have a Conch Harp here? Navia: Something wrong? Clorinde: It’s nothing. Probably dates back to the days of Remuria, that’s all). In the video, Navia clearly had listened to Clorinde talk about it because she remembered the connection but she also couldn’t even remember the name after Clorinde just said it, so it’s clearly not common knowledge. I imagine Clorinde was taught about it with her Master due to the ties to the Marechaussee Hunters and Clorinde’s clear love of history. But I also can’t imagine that Clorinde and Wriothesley never discussed both having interests/knowledge in the same niche era of Fontaine’s history. We know that she knew about the splice gate, so I also imagine she knew about the Winglet and therefore they absolutely would’ve talked about Fontaine history and folklore together.

And So

One thing I've seen a lot in this fandom, when others are trying to discredit a ship they try to give proof of pairs that are "more canon" and I didn't do this to try and say they have more canon standing. They aren't seen together all that often, and sometimes we just have to pull the crumbs out of our own analysis and that's okay. I don't like the phrase "more canon" because its canon or its not lol Being in more scenes together doesn't make a pairing more canon unless they're in the scene confessing their love verbally or physically. It just means they have a relationship, whether that's friendship, familial or romantic. How you see a relationship is up to you and you aren't wrong (because there is no right answer - n o s h i p i s c a n o n).

When it comes to Clorinde and Wriothesley, I don't know if Hoyo will ever put them in the same room together again (though they gave me enough crumbs that I need to now clarify pictured/interacting in the same room lol). They're just gonna give us a Character like Wriothesley and just leave him down there to never interact with people 😭 Clorinde's story quest didn't even touch on her being a Champion Duelist. I still have so many questions.

I’m a little peeved with Hoyo to be honest which is a whole other conversation I’ll have on how we went from some of the best storytelling and some of the best characters into some of the blandest storytelling and complete wasted potential. Nothing will make me stop loving what I loved about Fontaine, but it’s incredibly frustrating also feeling like I was lied to my face only because Hoyo caved to fanservice (which is how it looks), completely erasing character stories and relationships they established in the first place.

ALAS, with the new region on the horizon, maybe we’ll finally see some peace as the fandom moves on to a new region. We’ll just have to speculate and answer the questions for ourselves <3

In any regard, I wrote up all this to (cope because I adore them and I run out of content to satisfy my intake on a daily basis) hopefully make someone else also feel better that no, no one was crazy for thinking these two had that good fucking chemistry, because it radiated off the goddamn screen. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise 💙 Also, oh my fucking god I thought that after being in with Genshin since version 1.3 I already had my hyperfixation period back in Liyue nope the fucking prison warden and trial by combat champion decided to ruin my life.

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 16 Prompt: Library & Curious a/n: This one might be my favorite one I've written yet! It's set at the start of season 2! read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Edde Month series

Eddie’s well aware there are a lot of stupid classes that Hawkins High requires its student body to take. Algebra (there’s no reason for the alphabet and numbers to mix, except in very rare cases, like D20 type cases), Physics (what more do they need to know beyond what goes up, must come down), French (as if anyone from Bumfuck, Indiana could afford to go to France — okay maybe some can, but Eddie’s certainly not one of them that’s for damn sure), goddamn Physical Education (only way he’s running is if someone is chasing him, thank you very much). But the stupidest class of all has to be Study Hall.

An entire class dedicated to doing work for other classes? What kind of idiot dreamed this one up? Instead of letting them out an hour early, some guy, probably in a suit because all bad ideas come from guys in suits, decided to hold them hostage to do more work. It’s ridiculous. Not to mention, it’s one of the few times, outside of lunch, that the grades get to mingle with each other. Sure, lots of studying goes on in between freshmen drooling over seniors and sophomores paying juniors for last year’s test answers.

The only time Eddie actually liked study hall was during his sophomore year when he had it first period and could do all the homework he neglected to do the night before. It’s the only time it actually made sense. And the only time, thus far in his high school career, that Eddie actually turned in more assignments than not.

But now, he’s a senior stuck with study hall as his last class of the day, and he wants to die. Okay, maybe not die die. But die in the sense that he’d rather risk bodily harm escaping the hellscape that is the Hawkins library during 6th-period study hall than sit here. His freedom is so close — nothing but a few windows and a brick wall separating him from the brisk late-October air. Eddie can’t risk it, though. He’s already reached his detention quote for the semester, and if he wants to keep using the drama room for Hellfire meetings, he has to sit in this damn library seat and at least pretend to get some work done.

Which, honestly, isn’t the worst thing in the world. At least it gives him time to work on his latest Hellfire campaign without the prying eyes of Jeff and Gareth or the unnecessary questions from Freak. Sure, he’s supposed to be working on an essay for English Lit, but he doesn’t think Ms. Washington is going to appreciate his take on Frankenstein, so he’ll worry about coming up with a dumbed-down idea another day.

Besides, even focusing on his new campaign is hard enough with the idle chatter going on that the librarian is either pretending not to hear or is too tired of shushing them for.

It’s the usual sort of study hall gossip. Who’s screwing who. What teacher is going to pull a pop quiz tomorrow and become the biggest asshole at Hawkins High. The occasional nervous whispers of the geeks actually studying.

It’s all mindless chatter that drifts into the background when the topic of Tina’s Halloween Bash comes up. That’s the real gossip of the night. Who got the keg, and what other alcohol is being provided? Who is going to be the best dressed? What couple is going to get caught screwing in Tina’s parent’s bed? Are there going to be any good fights or breakups?

Eddie rolls his eyes. Jesus H. Christ, can’t anybody be original around here?

Unfortunately for Eddie, there’s no escaping Tina’s Halloween Bash since he’s been summoned to provide some extra party favors, as the “cool” kids like to call them. Eddie, never one to back down from being a thorn in a “cool” kid’s side, always responds with the same spiel: “Drugs. What you want is drugs, right? Or should I go raid Melvald’s for you?”

Whatever. Money is money, and Eddie can take all the money he can get his grubby hands on if he wants to get out of this shit-hole town when he graduates in June.

Glancing at his watch, he tips his head back in a silent groan of annoyance. Only ten minutes have passed since he slunk into the uncomfortable library seat. Christ, why does time move so slow, sometimes? Eddie tries to focus on his Hellfire notes in front of him, and he’s successful for all of thirty seconds before something catches his attention in the corner of his eye.

Nancy Wheeler and the former Hawkins High King, Steve Harrington, are whispering to each other by the pencil sharpener. He rolls his eyes. Of course, no one else in the library is paying them any mind. And why would they? Harrington fell from grace last year, and Wheeler isn’t exactly the “look at me” type. Still, Eddie finds them morbidly interesting in a way he finds all the tragic heterosexual couples in this stupid small town interesting.

Before Eddie has a chance to fall deeper into his cynical outlook on this stupid Hawkins High couple, Wheeler starts tugging Harrington toward the private study room in the back of the library. It’s a move that shocks Eddie to his core. Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard all bout Harrington’s little trysts in that very room over the years (thank you gossip mill for the very cheap porn), but he never would have assumed Wheeler would be the one tugging him toward it.

It’s that detour from who she’s supposed to be that has Eddie peeling himself off his chair.  At least, that’s what he tells himself as he saunters toward the stack of books in the back of the library closest to the private room. If he hears moaning or anything remotely sounding like they’re hooking up, he promises himself he’ll leave. He’s a freak in many ways, but a creep, he is not.

Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie can see the two of them in the small room. They’re close but not close enough to be doing anything beyond talking. From the look on her face, doing anything of that sort isn’t even on her mind.

Interesting.

Eddie creeps closer.

“Barbara. It’s like nobody cares. Except her parents. And now they’re selling their house.”

“Nance—“

Wheeler rants about something, but he misses most of it. Only catching the very end.

“It’s destroying them.”

No shit, Eddie thinks with another dramatic eye roll. Of course, losing their only daughter is destroying them. The Hollands are one of the few families around here that actually have a heart. At least they did before Barbara tore it from them by running away. Or so the story goes. Eddie’s always been a bit suspicious of Holland’s disappearance. He knows the runaway type, and a straight-A girl, with a well-off family who loves them like Holland had doesn’t fit the bill.

“I know. Okay? I get it,” Harrington says, glancing away from Wheeler to peer out the window. Eddie grabs the first book on the shelf and buries his face in it. It must fool Steve because he starts talking again. “But listen, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah, we could tell them the truth.”

“This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out that we told any…” He trails off again, and Eddie reaches for another book.

Eyes peering over the pages, Eddie watches as he shuts the blinds before presumably returning to Wheeler. With the blinds shut and their voices even lower, he can no longer hear what they’re talking about. Which is a damn shame because Eddie’s never been more curious about what the disgraced King was about to say than right now. 

+ + +

“M’telling you guys. It was weird,” Eddie says through a mouthful of Doritos.

They’re hanging out in Gareth’s garage. Jeff sits in the old recliner while Gareth stays perched behind his drum kit. Freak is running late, as usual, though Eddie’s not too pressed about it today. Too distracted filling the boys in on what he overheard in the library.

“I don’t know man; it sounds like she was just concerned about her best friend,” Gareth says, lightly tapping his drumsticks on his snare.

“Yeah, those two were inseparable, remember.”

“All the more reason why it’s weird she’s been mopping around lately. Obviously, she knows where Holland is. Or what happened to her.”

“Not this again,” Jeff groans, sinking further into the recliner.

“Yes, this again,” Eddie retorts, throwing Jeff an intense glare. “This town is weird as shit. If the Byers kid can come back from the dead—“

“I thought they proved it wasn’t actually Byers they found in the quarry,” The Freak says, finally joining them in the garage. 

“They did, but Eddie still thinks—“

“Shut up!” Eddie shouts, taking a moment to throw a Dorito at all of their heads. “Let me level with you for a second, okay? Yeah, sure, they said that kid wasn’t Byers, but they never said whose kid it was, which is weird. And then right after that, they “find” Holland’s car? It’s too coincidental, man. You know a story isn’t right when it’s too easy.”

“This isn’t one of our campaigns,” Gareth sighs. “Sometimes things really are just accidental coincidences.”

Eddie shakes his head, running his Dorito-stained fingers over his face. “Nah, man, m’not buying it this time. Harrington and Wheeler know what really happened to Holland. And I think they’re responsible for it.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “You think they made her disappear or something.”

“Maybe Harrington got Holland knocked up, and his family gave her money to leave.”

“See!” Eddie shouts, slapping his hands together as he jumps on the balls of his feet. “Freak gets it! That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“Okay, but if Harrington knocked Wheeler’s best friend up, why would she still be dating him?” Jeff asks.

“And why would they both be hiding her from her parents?” Gareth adds.

Okay, so maybe these are valid questions, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate the doubts they’re throwing at him. “I don’t appreciate you doubting me,” he says plainly. “You’ll see. M’gonna figure this out.”

“Right, just like you figured out that Ms. O’Donnell was actually failing you for a reason and not because she had some vendetta against Wayne for not dating her.”

“Hey. That was a good theory, okay. One I still think is true, by the way.” Turning his back on the boys, Eddie crosses the room and tosses the empty bag of Doritos into the trash bin before heading towards his badly parked van.

“I thought we were practicing!” Gareth shouts after him.

“Just let him go,” Jeff sighs. “He’s impossible to work with when he’s in conspiracy theory mode.”

Eddie flips Jeff off, climbing into the van. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”

+ + +

Eddie’s been at Tina’s party for an entire hour and a half, and there’s still no sign of Harrington or Wheeler. Not that he’s actively searching them out, of course. He’s just had some downtime in between upselling Hagan for the world’s shittiest pot he could get his hands on, and explaining to some cheerleader how Special K hits differently if you snort it. Plus, his supply ran out about ten minutes ago, so he’s just buying time before someone notices him lingering and kicks his ass to the curb.

He’s about to save himself and whatever jock gets thrown his way the trouble, when he spots Harrington and Wheeler arguing by the punch bowl. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has less to do with the conversation he heard in the library and more to do with Wheeler’s drunken state. Case in point: the red liquid she just spilled all over her blouse.

Chasing after her, Harrington cuts through the crowd and makes his way toward one of the bathrooms. Eddie waits a minute before following them down the crowded hallway. Thankfully, no one is in line for this bathroom — still too early in the night for the alcohol to have hit their bladders — so he’s first in the unofficial bathroom line. Leaning casually against the wall, Eddie angles his ear closer to the door so he can hear inside.

It takes a minute for his ears to tune out the music and nonsense chatter, but when they do, he can clearly hear Wheeler slurring her words.

“You’re pretending like everything’s okay. You know, like we didn’t… like we didn’t kill Barb.”

Eddie’s never experienced shock before, at least, he doesn’t think he has; the early days of his life are a little hazy around the edges, but that’s the only word he thinks fits what he’s experiencing right now. Part of him wants to shove his ear closer to the door to continue listing, while the other part of him wants to run for the hills, screaming in victory. And if he’s straight with himself, maybe screaming in fear a little, too. Harrington and Wheeler murderers? Who knew?

He knew, that’s who!

He knew there was something shady going on between those two.

Pressing his ear closer, he can hear Wheeler slurring more words, though he’s not exactly sure what she’s saying. Honestly, he doesn’t really care what she’s saying. He’s listening for Harrington’s response right now. What does the mighty King have to say about the bomb she’s just dropped?

“This is bullshit,” she slurs.

“Like we’re in love?” Steve asks.

Huh, clearly, Eddie missed a step or two in his shocked state.  He’s not exactly sure how the conversation strayed from them killing Holland to their, clearly, toxic relationship, but the fact it did is all the proof Eddie needs. If they didn’t kill her, Harrington would have been vehemently denying her claim. And yet, he sounds like a kicked puppy dog right now because she doesn’t love him.

Join the club, Harrington.

The doorknob starts to jiggle, and Eddie bolts. It’s not that he’s afraid about coming face-to-face with the two who apparently killed Holland. It’s just that, well, he needs a minute to think about the information he’s just learned.

+ + +

With Gareth and Freak both busy supervising their siblings around Hawkins and Jeff on candy duty for his family’s house, Eddie has no one to share the good bad news with. RIP Holland and all that, but he’s sitting on some serious dirt right now.

The good part of Eddie’s brain knows he should head straight for the police station. Pull good ole’ Chief Hopper aside and gloat about how he did his job for him. But Eddie’s spent enough time at the stuffy station to know no one is going to believe him especially not against Harrington and Wheeler. He’d have better luck marching in there and turning himself in for her murder. Not that he’s going to do that.

He supposes he could tell Wayne about it, but he doesn’t need to be dragging his uncle into any more of his messes. And since Eddie has no proof beyond overhearing a drunken confession, a mess it’ll surely turn into.

So, he opts for the third option and heads out to Skull Rock to do some thinking.

Maybe Freak is right, and it was some sort of jealous rage brought on by a Holland-Harrington pregnancy. Or maybe Holland saw something she shouldn’t have; the possibilities are endless, and Eddie’s imagination is limitless.

Eventually, he circles back to what he’s supposed to do with this information. Should he turn them in? Maybe not Wheeler; she seems like she’s experienced enough guilt as it and the girl has a bright future or whatever it is the teachers are always talking about. Harrington, though? Harrington, he should turn in, right? I mean, he didn’t even seem phased when Wheeler brought up the murder. Eddie’s watched enough horror movies to know that’s psychopath behavior right there. Besides, it would be nice to see the King behind bars. But then again, he hasn’t been the King in a while. And Harrington’s never really done anything to Eddie beyond standing idle while Hagan threw slurs at him. But he’s not hanging out with Hagan anymore, so maybe he should cut him some slack.

Though they did murder someone.

Jesus H. Christ.

Maybe this is why they say curiosity killed the cat — Eddie’s head is throbbing. He’s about to take another hit from his joint when he hears leaves crunching in the distance.

Shit.

Someone’s coming.

Snubbing out his joint against the rock, Eddie tries his best to make it seem like he’s just here, escaping the busy Halloween night. Which, like, he definitely is, but he can’t be too safe. Especially not when there are two teenage murderers on the loose.

“She thinks m’bullshit? She’s bullshit! Bullshit.”

The voice is unmistakable.

Jesus H. Christ could tonight get any weirder.

Eddie’s only escape is to run deeper into the forest, and he’s not about to do that so he makes himself comfortable on top of Skull Rock like a fucking sitting duck. Searching the pockets of his vest, he yanks out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Neither of which he was looking for. Of course, he left his pocket knife in his van. Stupid. So stupid!

There’s a moment of silence before Harrington emerges from the clearing. The moon is bright above them, making Steve’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes glow in the otherwise dark forest.

Maybe he is feeling guilty after all.

“Ah, fuck,” Harrington groans, stumbling to the ground.

Eddie watches as he rolls around for a moment, struggling to find his footing. If Eddie were a mean person, he might let Harrington suffer. But something about his behavior reminds him of a wounded animal, and Eddie’s always had a soft spot for bruised and broken things.

“Shit, Harrington, you okay?” Eddie asks, jumping down.

Eddie’s boots crunch against the leaves, startling Harrington. He manages to pull himself into a seated position and brandishes a near empty beer bottle in Eddie’s direction. “Stay back!”

“Woah, man,” Eddie yelps, hands raised in surrender in front of him. “Don’t kill me.”

“Oh, s’you,” Steve says, slumping against the tree behind him. He tosses the beer bottle aside and runs both his hands over his face. “Jesus. Why does everyone think I would kill s-someone?”

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, glancing around. Now’s his chance to make a break for it. Put those hours of physical education to good use and sprint to the van before Harrington has a chance to make him his next victim. But there’s something in Steve’s sad eyes and dejected voice that makes Eddie stay. “‘Cause you have killed someone before?”

“Man, what the hell are you talking about?” Harrington snaps, fumbling to get out of his jacket. “I’ve n-never killed anyone.”

“So, you didn’t kill Barbara Holland, then?”

“No! Jesus, ‘course not. Barb was… Barb was nice. She was good. Like Nance. Better than Nance, maybe. I don’t know,” Harrington whines, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Barb she’s… yeah, man, she’s dead. But I didn’t have anything to do with that. N-not in the way you think I did, at least.”

Harrington’s not making a lot of sense, which only spurs Eddie’s curiosity on more. Closing the distance between them, Eddie hops to a squat in front of him. “But you did have something to do with what happened to her?”

“Shit, man,” Harrington groans, words slurring more more. “S’complicated, okay. I can’t talk about it with you or her parents or anyone. Or else they’ll come for me or Nance or our families and then we’ll all be toast like Barb. And that… that thing that came out of the Byers’ wall.”

Complicated? Jesus H. Christ, Eddie’s never heard anything more complicated than the jumble of words that just left Harrington’s mouth. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the realization that they’re alone in the woods talking about something someone doesn’t want Harrington talking about.

“What?” Eddie says more to himself than to Steve. “Harrington, what thing in the Byers wall? You’re not making any sense!”

“The thing. You know, the… the,” Steve hiccups. “The thing we can’t talk ‘bout, else they’ll come for us next.”

Someone will come for him and his family if he reveals what happened to Barb? And the thing in the Byers wall? He wants to ask who would come. What would happen? Is he being blackmailed? There are so many questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, but none of them win the war.

“Harrington, man,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Are you in trouble? Do you, like, need help or something?”

Finally, freeing himself from his jacket, Harrington lifts his head and looks up. There’s a moment where Eddie’s life flashes before his eyes, but then the sad replay of his life is interrupted by Harrington’s hand on his cheek. A dopey-looking grin on his face as he squints up at Eddie.

“You have pretty eyes, M-m-munson. Anyone ever tell you that?” Steve slurs before promptly passing out against the tree.

What the hell has Eddie gotten himself into?

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

silly question time, those marks on the sides of Drifter's face, are they tatoos, scars, or just like, weird wrinkles? In-game the shading makes them look like scars, but they are perfectly symmetrical. Is it like a Dregen thing? Result of some blood ritual, maybe?

They're scars. We can see them especially clearly in Gambit openings that focus on his face.

As far as I know (and I have searched pretty extensively through the Ishtar Collective and the Destiny Lore Vault) there is no current in-game explanation for the Drifter's facial scars.

We do have some interesting tidbits, though. One is from Cayde in his post-death message to the Drifter.

He says "back when you were still handsome." Implying the Drifter is less-so now. I'm going to put aside the obvious inaccurate concept that scars make someone less beautiful but use this as an example that the Drifter may have been different, physically, in the past.

(There is a strong counter-argument here, that Cayde's definition of 'handsome' may not be entirely physical. It's highly congruent with the Drifter's character for him to alter his appearance and behavioural patterns to make himself less appealing when he wants to be left alone. And Cayde could also just be being a little shit. All of these are possible and potentially simultaneously true.)

The Drifter also has a pretty antagonistic relationship with his ghost and has refused its help in the past so it would not be out of character for him to not allow it to heal him and instead want to heal any wounds he's sustained 'naturally.'

So there's basically three main possiblities: Either he was risen with the scars, has somehow chosen to keep them between resurrections (I'm unsure if this is even possible in D2 lore, but it's a popular fan theory), or he hasn't died since he got them (and refuses to allow his ghost to heal them with Light).

While your theory of a Dredgen/blood ritual is possible, to me it seems far more likely the scars are so symmetrical because they're from an explosion near his face. Such as in the concept art below:

He's also got several voice lines in his Gambit preamble, and elsewhere discussing his many adventures in kit-bashing and engineering which have involved considerable personal danger to himself. The Drifter has never been one for OSHA compliance.

This is in addition to his brutal past detailed in A Man With No Name and elsewhere, which involved quite a lot of shrapnel, explosions, buildings collapsing, fire, and other unpleasantness.

It's also plausible that, rather than shrapnel, they're tooth or claw marks from the creatures he encountered in the Ancient Apocalypse armour lore where he, once again, murdered his entire crew to survive, as shown in this concept art:

One of the (many, many, many) things I love about the Drifter is that he is just so full of stories. The scars on his face are just yet more stories. The details of his physical portrayal all speak to so many different narrative tidbits. Everything about him is story-rich.

He's a fascinating creature, filled with contradictions and sorrow.

I went combing through D2 concept art for this post and it took me so long to answer specifically because I was trying to find an image that I remember seeing where the Drifter is pulling off some eye protection after an explosion and the scars on his face are where the eye-protection wasn't covering. It stuck in my memory because the Drifter actually using eye protection at all seemed very noteworthy to me at the time. However, I haven't been able to find this image anywhere and this makes me think perhaps it was fan art and not concept art. I asked a bunch of people about this, but no one I've talked with knows wtf I'm talking about. It is also possible I may have imagined it. At this point, I have, sadly, given up on ever locating it again (if it ever existed in the first place).

On the off-chance anyone does know what image I'm talking about, though, here is my desperate plea for a link to it.

That is all.