#but Whit doesn't even have that

[demodraws0606]

I'm making the prediction here that the reason why DRDTdev has been so reserved about Whit to the point where he hasn't had a singular sprite looking more than just a little upset makes me think they're just gonna pull a 180 on us in a very specific moment just to jumpscare us.

[dykedvonte]

Do you have anything you've been thinking on but just haven't made a post about it yet? Also I'm really enjoying your fic!

I have a few things but it's likely mostly headcanons that I consider somewhat disconnected from my analysis.

Curly's parents had him old, only child, died shortly after he graduated and got the pony express position. It was the last big thing they saw him do which is a reason he stayed for so long.

Doesn't admit how much their death affected him

Jimmy has a largish family. One of the cases of too many kids to keep tract of, parent never really noticed any of them nor their behaviors

Anya lived in a lot of houses growing up, regular supportive family that just struggled to support themselves.

Became a nurse largely to avoid their financial struggles but mostly because she felt too many people weren't being cared for and advocated for in the world properly

Swansea likes high top sneakers most. Likes how snug they fit and how they shield his ankles at work

Curly has a bit of a caffeine problem since he can’t sleep. Can occasionally be found wandering the ship at “night” when he had some too late or just couldn’t sleep.

Daisuke knows a little about a lot of things. Starts conversations with “did you know” a lot but please don’t ask him deeper questions

Curly has known Jimmy longer but has worked with Anya and Swansea longer, met them during his middle years, met Jimmy shortly before college.

Swansea rents a house, Daisuke’s family lives in a big nice apartment, Curly has a condo, Anya live in a small one bedroom apartment and Jimmy has a studio.

Curly's home is very disconcerting. It's too normal to a like uncanny degree.

Anya is ambidextrous but prefers her left.

Anya and Curly are both not native English speakers so occasionally they forget words and bond over the mutual mocking they get from the rest of the crew. Daisuke knows some Japanese but is still learning, never picked it up as a kid

Only Swansea and Daisuke know how to drive, Earth in my mind is very post capitalist so only older people and like the extremely wealthy can afford cars.

It's also like walkable just due to how many businesses are in your face. Probably strict living vs shopping districts

I have more but the way that I headcanon about them is like too long.

[mystiquedrops]

Hear me out chat.

Charwhit FTE, but IF the Akitoya punch scene :3

(Charles Akito and Whit Toya in this case)

I was discussing with my friend about this, and I came to this WHAT-IF.

[slightlytoastedbagel]

also Levi was who I thought the culprit was (like many others did) but. after that?? would he go out of his way to say that if he did it??

[beloveds-embrace]

Hello, I really liked your Dukedome au, and I imagine how reader would when Jhon told her about his boys and she was okay with it, but maybe, unconsciously, she doesn't want the guys to misunderstood her relationship whit Jhon, so she star treating them in a very distant/formal way(probably she doesn't even notice either, its not like she is upset or something)

Like, no more cute nicknames for them or cute giggles, she stop looking out for them as often and they notice.

I just like angst I'm sorry 😭

They would notice immediately because ever since your mind subconsciously accepted that no one here would chastise or correct you, you've basically turned the nickname into a part of their name, always said so gently. Or when you'd seek their company out yourself, simply happy to spend time with them.

But then you convince yourself that perhaps you are making them uncomfortable, that maybe you are getting between them and John especially, so you decide it'd be best to just stop. No more nicknames, no more purposely going to spend time with them, just a very calm and respectful camaraderie. It should be fine, shouldn't it? No doubt they'd even be happy, having more privacy without you encroaching on their space.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. First day, they notice that you aren't calling them with those dearly beloved nicknames in that sweet tone of yours, but they assume it might just be something distracting you. They are sure it'll get better.

Second day, they realize you haven't gone to any of them. Haven't had breakfast sitting with Johnny, haven't visited John in his office, haven't taken your walk with Kyle or checked the library to read with Simon. Going over the conversations each and everyone of them has had with you, trying to see if they’d hurt or upset you in any way only to come up empty-handed.

Third day is the last day. There’s genuine fear they might havr royally fucked up. But it doesn’t explain why you are still calm and gentle as ever, greeting them if you happen to run into them but no more cute nicknames or lingering to speak to them. It hurts more because they do hear you still use them for others, but not them.

Fourth day is the last straw. Kyle is there first thing in the morning, greeting you awake with a big bouquet from John and Simon and a tray of so much it’s surprising it even fit on the tray- made by Johnny and Kyle both.

“My lady,” he smiles at you, setting it down on the coffee table a little away. It takes effort not to frown when you just mumble a confused “Kyle?” With no nicknames like love or honey.

“My lady,” he repeats, voice soft and apologetic- almost desperate. “Whatever I’ve done- whatever we’ve done, we truly apologize for it.” He starts. And then asks for your forgiveness again, apologies falling out.

Meanwhile, you are just confused as fuck. And still in your nightgown. What is he- what are all of them even apologizing for, anyways?

[ohmygraves]

ghost who eloped with his spouse, who moved into a small house for about a month before he had to fly out on a missions outside of england. hell, the place was pretty bare and he couldn't even manage to put in some nice furniture before price told him to get his arse into a plane to russia for a five month long mission. didn't even get to enjoy some honeymoon before his job fucked him over.

safe to say, he hadn't established a routine at his new home yet ever since he moved out of his barracks room at the base. he was only at home for a little while, it only makes sense that he doesn't know where everything goes sometimes. and of course, he somehow misplaced himself.

at the end of the deployment, he was too tired to even care. his eyes were so heavy and tired that he made his way back to his old barracks room, kicking the door down and throwing his bags to the side (and scaring poor soap who was asleep on the bed, since of course he's the one who took ghost's old room back at the base).

his eyes met the scot, a little confused as to why he sees someone on his bed.

"whit the hell!? lt!? did the missus kick ye out?" soap groaned, scared shitless as he tries to calm his heart.

the question took him off guard, and he stood by the doorway quietly, just processing it.

"... i have a spouse."

"ye eedjit." soap shook his head, telling him to leave soon or else an angry spouse will buzz off his mohawk.

poor ghost, rushed out of the base in the middle of the night trying to get back home. he's got a lot of apologizing to do. hopefully his spouse was asleep and didn't realize that he practically drove twice over the speed limit and possibly ran over someone just to get to his spouse's arms.

[danveration]

Questionable Interests

Parings: Art x Reader

Summary: You fall asleep next to Art while riding the subway, and then he walks you home

Warnings: Mention of blood/killings/serial killers, talk of drunk men, talk of drugs, a mean male subway driver

Word count: 1203

A/N: tehehehehfkbdfk i hope u like ittt🙈🙈 it’s not the besssttt. i did this in one sitting within like 10 minutes HAHHA. i will do better stuff in the near future but Yes!woooo

Art was the talk of the town. “The killer clown is back again!” “Art the serial killer clown was spotted?” “5 killings that all lead to a killer clown. People have seen a black and white clown with blood all over him. They thought it was fake blood but they’re having second thoughts.” Art the clown.

You obviously heard of him. You’ve always had an odd obsession with serial killers and true crime documentaries. It’s a.. passion, some would say. You wondered if Art had any motive, or if he just killed whoever he thought of killing. Did he kill people because they were mean to him? Judging? Or did he just kill anyone, even if they didn’t pay him any mind at all. Did he feel anything when he killed? Did he feel anything at all?

You wished you could see him in real life. What can you say? Your have questionable interests.

You’re currently on the subway, sitting down with your headphones in. You’ve had a long day today. It’s about 8pm and all you want to do is get home and sleep.

The subway isn’t very busy. There’s only about 5 or 6 people on it at the moment. Your mind begins to wonder about random things as your eyes threaten to close. The subway makes a stop, you pay no mind. You’re too out of it to notice who gets on and who sits where. Little did you know, Art stumbles into the subway, bloody and carrying a black bag. Everyone looks scared and soft murmurs begin to start as people look him up and down. He sees you and doesn’t think anything. He see's that you're the only one who doesn't really acknowledges him and so he sits next to you and tosses his black garbage bag on the other seat beside him. You don't hear nor see the worried whispers and worried eyes of the others on the subway.

Your eyes begin to close and your head slowly drops onto Art’s shoulder. Art is taken aback, his eyes go wide for a moment before looking down at you slowly. He stiffens and then goes back to staring in front of him at the empty seat. He doesn’t particularly think anything of it. He just stays still and let’s you rest on him.

10 minutes later, he notices the subway is about to stop at the stop that he plans to get off. Though he doesn’t get off. He just sits there.

After a while, it’s time for subway to “close” aka just stop until the morning. Everyone is off except for you and Art. The driver gets up, and yells, “Hey! It’s time to go, come on. Get up!”

Art stars daggers at the man and just stays sitting down.

The subway driver rolls his eyes and hits the metal pole close to you. “Come on!”

With that, you suddenly wake up and whimper. Looking up to where the sound was made, you come to realization and your eyes go wide. “O-oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. Where are-“

He cuts you off, “You’re at the subway center on Marshall Street.”

Luckily that was not far from where you lived. You could walk, though you’re a bit scared to considering your watch says 2:50am. There are so many weirdos out there at this time. Drunk men stumbling out of bars, drug users, and even murderers! Like Art the clown. But honestly, you’d feel more safe with him than any other man. Which sounds horrible but at least you know he could protect you and he isn’t afraid of killing someone if it came to that. But why on earth would he protect you? He would probably just kill you. You don’t know what morals he has, if any.

You’re about to get up but you realize that you were actually laying your head on something when you were sleeping. There was not a wall next you so..

You turn to where you were sleeping and you notice something black and white out of the corner of your eyes. Looking up, you see..

What? You have to be dreaming.

Art or someone who is dressed as Art is sitting there staring at you with a neutral expression. You just stare with wide eyes as he stares back without blinking. Looking straight at him, you can definitely confirm it's the Art. Blood & all.

“Hey!! I said scram. Both of you!” The subway driver yells and motions for you both to leave.

You go to walk off the subway as Art reaches for his black bag and gets up to following you off, giving the subway driver a nasty look as he walks off.

Once you are off the subway, you look over to Art as he stares down at you. You don’t feel scared, necessarily. He doesn’t look mad or anything. But still, you feel the need to apologize for sleeping on his shoulder.

“H-hey. I’m real sorry about falling asleep on you. It-it’s just been a long day.” You stutter out.

He looks at you and motions for you to walk.

“W-what?” You ask in confusion.

He makes a finger person with his hands and motions them walking.

“Walk? Walk where?”

He attempts to draw a house with his finger and points at you and back at the house.

You take it that he wants you to walk to your house. Does he want to follow you there? You really are starting to feel intuitive with the way you just thought of this not even a little while ago.

“Walk to my house?” You ask him.

He eagerly nods and gives you a thumbs up as he smiles.

Art the killer clown wants to walk you home? You smile to yourself at the situation you’re in right now. Most people would be running away but you’re literally happy right now. You are kind of a fan girl of Art, so it’s crazy that he’s actually here and not.. Killing you. He actually seems sweet. Maybe he does have morals left.

“O-okay.” You say.

You start to walk and he walks beside you, slugging along his black garbage bag. You two walk in silence. You want to ask him questions but you’re not sure if too much at once is a good idea. Maybe asking him questions will set him off in a way, you’re not sure. So you decide to just stay quiet and soak in the moment.

You’re walking on the side of the sidewalk, until you hit a street. Your street. You take a turn and he follows, smiling to himself and looking around to take in the neighbourhood (Totally not to memorize where you live). You walk for a few minutes until you get to your house.

“This is me” You say as you awkwardly chuckle and motion towards your house.

He motions for you to walk up all the way to your door, at which you do. He follows you all the way until you open your door. Then, he waves goodbye with a smile and closes the door for you.

You stand on the other end, in disbelief of what just happened.

[ghostsandguns]

While some men might dread that time of the month with their partner, John is anything but that.

He can always tell when your period is approaching because, in the days leading up to it, you become extremely horny, almost like an animal in heat.

This is when his military training truly comes in handy, as John has to stay on high alert every second of the day, knowing you’re always ready to jump him.

Just yesterday, you caught him off guard during his workout session. He'd been laying on a weight bench, taking a break in between sets, when you sat down on his lap. Taking you less than a minute to get him hard and sink down onto his fat cock.

John had refused to move as a form of punishment, but that didn't matter because you were so on edge that it only took you a couple of thrusts before you reached your orgasm.

Afterwards, he had turned you over to smack your ass cheeks a few times until they were red and stinging.

You, however, hadn’t learned your lesson.

When John was in an online meeting with the squad, you quietly slipped into the room and crawled under his desk.

This led to your current situation, sitting between his legs and reaching for his zipper. When you hear him clear his throat as a subtle warning, you pause your movements for a second.

"You alright there, sir?" Kyle asks over the screen, putting whatever they were discussing on hold.

"Just an itchy throat"

You feel his hand resting on top of your head, slowly threading through your hair as you continue your antics and pull out his cock.

Simon's talking in the background sounds like white noise to you, as you can only focus on the target in front of you. The hormones in your system going haywire, as you almost start drooling at the sight of his hardening member.

You move in and give the head a small teasing lick, testing the waters. When John doesn't make any move to stop you, you take it as a sign to continue, giving it sloppy kisses to get him fully hard.

John is not small down there by any means, and you always see it as a challenge to try and swallow as much of him as you can.

The hairs at his groin tickle your face while you greedily suck him off, trying to be as quiet as possible. You can almost imagine him trying to keep his face calm, but the hand tightening in your hair says otherwise.

When you slip your hand into your panties, you silent thank yourself for wearing a skirt, granting easy access to your cunt. Swiping through your folds, you're not surprised to feel how wet you are.

Quickly gathering some of your slick on your fingers, you insert two fingers into yourself, thrusting at a steady pace.

It doesn't take long before you feel your orgasm approaching, accidentally letting his cock slip from your mouth when you release a high-pitched moan.

It isn't until a few moments later, when you've come to your senses again, that you realise the room has fallen silent.

"Sir, wis tha whit aye think it wis?" you hear Johnny mumble, before John suddenly pulls you out from under the desk and onto his lap. This new situation making your face turn red as you're now facing his squad members on the screen.

"This one can't seem to behave," John grumbles. "Have to punish her, am I right, boys?"

You see Simon, the traitor, give a firm nod in response to his question as you attempt to make a quick escape—only to have John pull down your underwear and spreading your legs.

"Ye gone an' done it noo, ye cheeky wee besom," Johnny chuckles.

With your pussy on full display, you try to look away, but John holds your face and whispers in your ear, "Don't look away from the camera, love. Or you'll get another spanking"

The faces of his subordinates turn serious as their eyes roam over your body. You're pretty sure you see Johnny move his hand towards his crotch, and you should be embarassed, but instead, you find yourself even more turned on.

John softly smacks your cunt a few times to grab your attention. "Please, John..." you softly moan, but he doesn't seem pleased with that response.

"Hmm? That’s not the proper way to address me, is it?"

You make a mental note to pull his ear later for the situation he's putting you in. Yet in this moment, your desire to get a good fucking wins, so you reluctantly give in.

"Please... Daddy"

That seems to do the trick, as he lets out a satisfied grunt, grabbing his cock and pumping it a few times before aligning it with your entrance.

He doesn't give you a warning before he pushes in and bottoms out. Your walls tight and clenching down on him, almost as if you're afraid he might run away.

At the beginning of your relationship, it had taken a lot of patience and practice to get used to his size.

Even though you and John have fucked many times before, you've never been able to get used to the sensation of being completely filled. You could get addicted to it, if you're not already.

You're pulled back to reality, as he gives a few slow thrusts before suddenly setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard. John makes sure you stay put, holding both of your arms to pull you down with each thrust.

You swear you can almost make out the shape of his cock from the bulge that's forming on your stomach. And by now, you're shamelessly moaning out loud as he pounds into you.

Catching a glimpse of the screen, you see the three men shamelessly jerking off, and the image of it sends you into a frenzy. Behind you, John is groaning whilst hitting that soft, raised spot in you that makes you see stars.

You're so lost in the pleasure that you don't even notice him putting his hand on your lower abdomen, until he starts pressing down. The pressure of his hand and the pounding into your g-spot make you feel like you need to pee.

''Ohmygod, ohmygod, John'' you gasp out, grabbing his arm. ''I can't hold it in—it's going to gush out, John!''

He ignores your pleas, not slowing down as you're unable to hold it in and start squirting all over his desk.

At the same time, Johnny's moans grow louder in the background, as he reaches his own orgasm ''Achh, just like tha lassie''

And it's the combination of both of your desperate noises that seem to set John off, thrusting a couple more times, before he stops moving.

His cock throbs and pulses as it fills you with his release until your cunt is overflowing—the semen leaking out and dripping down the sides of his member.

As you begin to lose consciousness, you think you faintly hear John speaking to his men ''You lads coming over for a second round?''

[arc-misadventures]

What Are You Doing Here?

A thin. twig of a man was walking the streets of, Mantle. A grey hood covered his head as he tried to remain unseen. He was here on a mission, a very important mission. One that if he was caught would cause untold amount of suffering, and damage. But, he would be willing to fight to complete his mission. And, nothing was going to stop him!

Except for a six foot six, blond hair specialist grabbing him by the back of his hoodie holding him aloft as he hopelessly kicked his feet in the air.

: GRAHH?! Let go of me go!

: Only if you explain what you're doing here?

: I-It doesn't concern you, Jaune!

Jaune Arc, on another one of his patrols in, Mantle after the ballot boxes were delivered to another community halls for the upcoming vote. But, his patrol was brought to an abrupt detour when he stumbled upon a most unexpected sight.

The sole male heir of the, Schnee family. Whitely Schnee out on a leisurely stroll.

Jaune: Doesn't concern me?! Oh yeah, Winter's gonna love the fact I told her: 'Hey, Winter I saw your little brother down in, Mantle! I don't know what he was doing, I just left him alone!'

Jaune: Do you have any idea what she would do to me if I told her that, Whit?!

Whitely: Then don't tell her!

Jaune: Are you trying to get me killed?!

Whitely: This doesn't concern you! Let me go!

Jaune: Whitely... Tell me what's happening, or I'll tell, Willow you're down here...

Whitely stopped struggling in, Jaune's grasp, his whole body going limp as he comprehended his threat.

Whitely: Okay... Okay, I'll tell you why I'm here. But, please... don't tell my mom...

Jaune: Smart lad.

Jaune dropped, Whitely who straightened out his clothes before turning to face, Jaune keeping his hoodie over his head to hid his identity, and his highly recognizable heir from any passers by.

Whitely: I'm here, because I am going to a rally that's being held today.

Jaune: A rally? One of the political rallies?

Whitely: Y-Yeah...

Jaune: Who's rally? The election is in a two days, there's five rally's happening right now. Who are you making your way to, Whit?

Whitely: ...

Whitely: I'm... I'm heading to, Robyn Hill's rally...

Jaune: Robyn Hill?! Why the hell are you going there?

Whitely: I-I have my reasons...

Jaune: You better tell me, because seriously, Whit... I can think of many reasons for why you wouldn't go there, but I can't think of a single reason why you would want to go there.

Whitely: Oh yeah?! What reasons could you think of!

Jaune: You're, Jacques Schnee's son, you're the heir to the Schnee Dust Company, and it's fortune. You're part of the uppermost class of the, Atlasian Elite, so why are you of all people, even associating with the 'lower class.'

Whitely: You know I'm nothing like my father! And, while the others are true... B-But, I don't think I'm better than everyone else!

Jaune: Just richer than them?

Whitely: Okay... t-that's... that's a fact. You can't use that against me!

Jaune: Yes, I can, and will.

Whitely: Okay, I know it may seem that I don't care for the 'common folk,' but Mom, and I are trying to make things better for people. Higher wages, better medical, dental, family, and a slew of other benefits! We're becoming less of a monopoly! We're doing so many things that is helping all of, Atlas, and Mantle!

Jaune: Yes, you told me that when I was over for dinner with you, and Willow the other day. And, that's all well, and good, but why are you going to one of, Robyn's Hill's rally?

Whitely: I'm not going to tell you anything!

Whitely stared defiantly at, Jaune. His stance solid, and defiant to the world, and the threat a seasoned, Specialist could offer to an auraless civilian. But, Jaune would teach him the futility of his defiance.

Jaune pulled out his scroll, and hit a few buttons, and hold it in front of, Whitely, his finger hovering over a button.

Jaune: You tell me why you're going to a rally for, Robyn Hill right now, or I swear I'll call your sister here right now.

Whitely: You think I'm scared of, Weiss?!

Jaune: Who said I was going to call, Weiss?

Whitely: ...?!

Whitely: Y-You wouldn't... You wouldn't dare...?

Jaune: Whit... the question you should be asking isn't whether, or not I'll do it. But, how fast, Winter will get down here to pick you up.

Whitely's eyes bugged out as he dry swallowed as he took in the essence of, Jaune's threat.

Whitely: ...

Whitely: I-I... I'm... I'm going to...

Jaune: Going to what?

Whitely: I'mgoingto,RobynHill'srallytoseemycrush!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Beg pardon?

Whitely: I'm going to, Robyn Hill's rally to see my crush...

Jaune: You're crush... You have a crush...?

Jaune: It better not be, Robyn Hill, because she's claimed me...

Whitely: What, no It's not her...? Wait, I thought, Winter claimed you?

Jaune: I'm stuck between a love triangle that the two of them will fight tooth, and nail over who gets to have me.

Whitely: Okay...?

Jaune: If it's not, Robyn then who is it?

Whitely: I-I'll tell you who it is... but, only if you take me there to see her!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Okay... but we're going to get you a took first. You look like a hoodlum looking like that.

Whitely: I'm not a hoodlum!

Jaune: That's a shame, you'd have more personality if you were...

Whitely: Hey!

~~~

Now the pair were at, Robyn Hill's rally the last one being held before the election. Whitely now had a nice burnt red took on his head, hiding his easily identifiable snow white hair.

Jaune was keeping his eye's on, Whitely, waiting for him to react to anything, or more importantly who was the one, Whitely had a crush on. And, the way he watched, Whitely's body stiffen, and his breath left him, and the way his cheeks became red. He knew who ever they were had appeared. And, he was most surprised for who it was,

Jaune: Wait... Fiona... Fiona Thyme?! That's your secret crush?!

Whitely: SHHHH! Don't say that out loud!

Jaune: Okay... I have so many questions... But, first off... she's twenty four, Fiona's at lease a decade older than you.

Whitely: What? I'm not fourteen, I'm seventeen years old, Jaune!

Jaune: ...

Jaune's eyes blink in bewilderment as he looked at, Whitely. Jaune proceed to grab, Whitely by the scuff of, Whitely's hoodie, and lifted him up into the air with one hand. Jaune held out his arm straight, and shook, Whitely in the air, watching his feet dangle effortlessly in the air before setting him down.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Okay... We're changing your diet: More meats, and more protein, as well as getting you on a exercise regime. We need to put more meat on you, cause otherwise people will think you're a legal shouta.

Whitely: ...

Whitely: Okay...

Whitely: But, what about you! Winter's twenty five years old! And, you're...

Jaune: Nineteen.

Whitely: Nineteen! That's a six year difference!

Jaune: Compared to a seven year difference... No... Okay, look... It's not that bad, but it's not that good either. I just thought you were younger then you actually are. Seriously, we need to put some meat on your chicken legs.

Whitely: Shut up...

Jaune: But, why do you like her? I mean... You like, Fiona? I thought you didn't like faunas, she's a sheep faunas.

Whitely: I didn't... N-Not anymore... That was just my father's influence, I'm not like that anymore. I just saw her from a distance, and... I just fell for her... I think she's beautiful.

Jaune: Love at first sight...?

Whitely: Y-Yeah... you could say that...

Jaune: Oh gods...

Jaune: Have you talked to her?

Whitely: N-No... She's a, Huntress, a Happy Huntress, and a faunas. And, I'm...

Jaune: Whitely Schnee... son of the enemy of all faunas... Jacques Schnee...?

Whitely: Yeah...

Jaune: Damn... The decks already stacked against you, and you're not even at the table...

Whitely: She'd probably spit in my face just walking over to her.

Jaune: Give her some credit, Whit. Fiona's not like that, if you were an ass she'd punch you in the face. She's too classy to spit in your face.

Whitely: H-How do you know that... H-Have you talked to her?!

Jaune: A few times.

Whitely: Can you introduce me to her?!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Haaa...

Jaune: Please don't make me regret doing this, Whit...

Whitely: Yes! Thank you big bro!

Jaune: Don't you call me that!

Whitely: Sorry...

~~~

Robyn: Hello, Specialist Arc... What brings you here this day, General Ironwood send you to complain about my running for election again.

Jaune: Drop the act, Robyn. Whit knows that I'm the prize in your competition thingy against, Winter.

Robyn: Oh... wait, who is that, Whit fellow?

Jaune: Just a friend I'm wingmanning for...

Robyn: Okay...? And, this, Whit fellow... has a thing for, Fiona...?

Jaune: Yeah, it's a love of first sight, kind of thing...

Robyn: Seriously...?

Jaune: It's also the first crush for the kid... teenager...Give him some slack, okay?

Robyn: Why are you doing this?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I'm a romantic?

Robyn: You don't sound so sure about that...

Jaune: I've somehow managed to snagged three extremely hot badass warrior babes by being myself; I'm not sure about a lot of things!

Robyn: Three... Is there another woman I should be worried about?

Jaune: No. She's dead...

Robyn: Oh... I-I'm sorry, Jaune. I didn't mean...

Jaune: Stop, I would prefer not to talk about it. Let's just watch, Whit, and see how he'll do.

Robyn: O-Okay...

~~~

Walking up to, Fiona Thyme, Whitely was having a panic attack in his head. He was a seventeen year old kid, talking with his first crush, who happened to by a, Happy Huntress, and a faunas. He was the enemy of everything she no doubt stood for, because of his fathering was, Jacques Schnee.

But, like, Jaune told him: "You'll regret not telling her more than you will be for putting your foot in your mouth."

He just hopped he wouldn't put his foot so deep in his mouth.

~~~

Whitely: H-Hi!

Fiona stopped to looked at the kid standing before her, an inch smaller than her. He wore a a grey hoodie, and grey blue jeans, black sneakers, and a burnt red took. Fiona thought this... civilian looked nice, her certainly had nice icy blue eyes, but why is he talking to her, Robyn was right there after all?

Fiona: Hello...?

Whitely: Hi! Uhhh...? M-My name is...

Whitely's eyes darted around nervously, if he introduced himself as who he pretending to be, Whit, she'd probably ignore him. But, if he suddenly popped it on her that he was actually, Whitely Schnee, like he was embarrassed to be seen with her, because who he was. Fiona would probably, rightfully so, deck him in the face.

Whitely: My name is, Whitely... Whitely Schnee...

Whitely pulled off his burnt red took, showing off his snow white hair. He gave, Fiona a nervous smile, meanwhile, Fiona was staring at him wild eyed. Fiona's voice escaped her as her mind struggled to comprehend what it was standing before her.

Robyn: Wait, hold on...?! That's, Whitely Schnee?!

Jaune: Yes, and quiet!

Fiona: Whitely Schnee... Son of, Jacques Schnee...?

Whitely: Y-Yeah... That's me...

Fiona: Okay... W-What are you doing down here...?

Whitely: Down here in, Mantle? Did you not expect someone like me to be here?

Fiona: Uhh... yeah... For several reasons that.

Whitely: W-What reasons?

Fiona: You're, Whitely Schnee, son of, Jacques Schnee...

Whitely: That I am......

Fiona: What's a rich boy doing down her in the slums?

Whitely: This...? There are no slums in, Mantle?

Fiona: And, why are you an, faunas racist talking to a faunas?

Whitely: ...

Jaune: Oh shit...

Robyn: Wait... you said, wingmanning... Does, Whitely...?!

Whitely: I... I may have had such opinions... But, they weren't solely baseless, and my idea...

Fiona: Baseless? What do you mean by that?

Whitely: My father was the enemy of all faunas... And, he made faunas his enemy, blamed them for a lot of his problems, and he even forced a lot of these problems he caused on them. So, I can understand their hate for me, and my father. And, I can understand why they all think that I'm a carbon copy of my father. But, I'm not my father!

Fiona: And, why do you say that?

Whitely: I did agree with my father, and his opinions of faunas. Not all faunas, just those of the, White Fang...

Fiona: The White Fang?

Whitely: You probably heard how they were 'freedom fighters,' fighting for faunas rights... You tell me to believe that is the truth when your mother's shielding your eyes so you don't see the dismembered body of your cousin. You didn't see your father absolutely loose it when one of the dust shipments got attacked by the, White Fang, and he took out his anger on your mother...

Whitely: I don't hate the faunas, Fiona. I hate the, White Fang, because of what they did to me, and my family... My father... Jacques would hate you for being a faunas. Me...? I'm... I'm not my father. Like he would ever have a crush on a cute sheep faunas anyway...

Fiona looked at, Whitely. She was feeling down, she was judging him based on his linage, often something others did to her because she was a faunas. He couldn't control being, Jacques Schnee's son, but he did control who he choose to become. Besides, it's like he said: It's not like, Jacques Schnee would ever have a crush on a cute sheep...?!

Fiona: W-W-Wait?! 'A crush on a cute sheep faunas?!' Do you have a crush on me?!

Whitely: AHH?! Oh shit... I didn't mean to tell you that?!

Robyn: Holy shit?!

May: The, Schnee kid has a crush on, Fiona?!

Joanna: And, is, Fiona blushing?!

Jaune: Well this isn't how you'd want things to go... but, I did worse, so...?

Fiona: YOU DO?!

Whitely: I snuck into one of, Robyn Hill's political rallies, and saw you! And, I fell for you the moment I laid my eyes upon you!

Fiona: Love at first sight?!

Jaune: Going for broke eh, Whit?

Robyn: Somebody please tell me you're recording this?!

Joanna: From the moment I came here!

May: I've been taking photos!

Whitely: S-So, Fiona Thyme! Will you please go out with me?!

Fiona: O-O-Oh... W-Well... I'm too old for you... I mean, a thirteen year old going out with a twenty three year old... That's...?

Whitely: Seventeen!

Fiona: W-What?

Whitely: I'm seventeen years old... Jaune's going to put me on an excursive regium, and a new diet to bulk up so I stop looking like... like a kid... S-So, it's just a six year difference... So, c-could we...?

Fiona: ...

Fiona: D-Do you want to go on a date now...? Cause... I'm going to be busy the next few days... election stuff... So, I don't know if I'll be able to...

Whitely: Yes!

Fiona: Eep?!

Whitely: Sorry, I meant to say, yes.

Fiona: That's great!

Whitely: But, uhh... I don't know any of the restaurants around here... How about you take us to a nice one, where we can chat, and get to know one another better. My treat.

Fiona: I'd like that. Come on, Whitely.

Whitely: J-Just call me, Whit. Otherwise people might...

Fiona: Okay, Whit.

Fiona waited by the door as, Whitely put on his took, and ran up to, Fiona. the pair had matching smiles, and small blushes on their faces as they left on their date.

From the distance the group of, Huntresses, and the Specialist all cooed from the corner as they watched them leave together.

Robyn: Wow... out of all the things I expected today... Whitely Schnee asking, Fiona on a date, and her accepting it is the last thing I'd ever expected.

May: But, they look so cute together! Especially with, Fiona being just one inch taller than him!

Jaune: May, I'm going to need those photos, and that video, Joanna. Evidence for... for things...

Joanna: You got it!

Jaune: Hahaha! Willow's gonna love this!

Robyn: Hey, Jaune? How come you've never taken me out on a date before?

Jaune: Because, I'm too busy to go on a date with any of you! Winter's too busy going on a date with, because she's busy being a, Specialist. You're too busy being a politician to go on a date, Robyn. And, I'm too busy being playing both sides to get you elected, and manipulating, General Ironwood to get what needs to be done! Which is dragging everyone away from his stupid project, that if he finds out what I've done, he'll probably shoot me for treason!

May: Y-Your kidding, right...?

Jaune: No. No I am not.

Robyn, and her, Happy Huntresses all looked at, Jaune, and took in the dead seriousness in his eyes. Robyn placed her hand on him, activating her semblance showing it off in a vibrant green hue.

Joanna: Holy shit, he's telling the truth...

Jaune: Oi?!

(Slap!)

Robyn: Ow!

Jaune: None of that!

Robyn: How mean... How could you do that to such a delicate maiden~?

Jaune: If you used your semblances on yourself it would be as red as blood for saying that.

Robyn: Hey!

Jaune: Alright, I need to go back, my shift is almost over, and I need to file in a report. I'll see you later ladies.

May: Bye, Jaune.

Joanna: See you later, Jaune.

Jaune: Oh, before I go... Robyn?

Robyn: Yea... MPHH?!

Jaune grabbed, Robyn's chin, and pulled her in for a kiss. He pushed his lips upon her, causing, Robyn to moan deeply within her throat, causing her to gasp for air as he broke their kiss.

Jaune: Consider that an IOU for a real date.

Robyn: O-Okay...

Jaune: Well then, till later then, my Lady.

Jaune turned, and left the, Happy Huntresses 'secret' base. Leaving a panting, and blush stricken, Robyn with a hand upon her chest as she watched her, Knight leave.

Robyn: Oh gods~!

May: Oh shit... she's got it bad...

Joanna: She's got it really bad!

May: It's fucking adorable.

Joanna: So adorable.

~~~

One of the back doors to the, Schnee manor slowly opened, and closed as a skinny twig snuck it's way inside. It stealthily made it's way to a room in the house. As it reached the door to the room, it quietly opened the door, before slowly shutting it behind him. A tired sigh with a hint of joy escaped his lips. He turned on the lights to the room, turned around, and screamed.

: AHHHHHH?!?!

: Hello, Whitely...

Whitely: M-Mom?! What are you doing in my room?!

Willow: The better question is; Why are you home so late?

Whitely: Wha... I'm not late...

Willow: It's, 3:32 am...

Whitely: T-That's not so late...

Willow: Whitely you've complained that it's too late, and you need to head to bed at 9 pm. You have never once stay out so late before. So, where were you?

Whitely: I-I-I was out... w-with friends...

Willow: You don't have any friends.

Whitely: I just recently met them...

Willow: And, you were hanging out with these friends of yours... so late because...?

Whitely: W-We were just having so much fun we lost track of time...

Willow: And, did you have 'fun' with this friend?

Whitely: We just talked, we didn't do anything... uncouth...

Willow: But, would you have if you could?

Whitely: It was a first date, you don't do anything like that until the third...

Willow: So it was a date~?

Whitely: Grkk?!

Willow: So tell me, who was it that you were on this date with?

Whitely: I-I don't have to tell you anything!

Willow: Whitely... I am your mother, you will tell me about this sheep girl you were seeing...

Whitely: Wha... how did you know she was a sheep faunas?!

Willow: Because, Jaune told me.

Whitely: That traitor! Why did he tell you?!

Willow: Because you took so long, and for the record, Jaune didn't actually tell me.

Whitely: He didn't, then who did?

: I did.

Whitely: AHHHH?!

The chair to, Whitely's desk turned around to show a very irate Winter Schnee staring back at him.

Whitely: W-W-Winter?! When did you get here?!

Winter: Oh, a while after mother told me you weren't home. And, a few minutes after I interrogated, Jaune about who you were with. So, tell me, Whitely... Why were you on a date with, Fiona Thyme. A member of the, Happy Huntresses?

Whitely: I-I-I...?! I can explain!

Willow: I always knew you liked lamb, but to like it in such a manner~?

Whitely: I-I don't like it in that manner... Well, Fiona is...I don't mean!

Winter: Start talking, Whitely...

Willow: Yes, mother want's to hear everything about your little date~!

Whitely: Ohhhhh...!

Whitely: Shit...

[laneywrld]

Oh Baby | part three

third and final part.

word count: 8.6k

Warnings: tame(er) smut. Pregnancy sex. childbirth.

progress is made, all thanks to your hormone gremlins.

It's safe to say everyone's favorite duo was back like they never left,  just with a lingering air of sexual tension and babies in the oven. 

You were never good at holding water, which is why you told your family and friends about it the very same night. Your friends were the most excited you'd ever seen them, and that was before you even mentioned who the father was. 

When Miles questioned who the father was with a meek voice interrupting said celebrations, Lewis stepped forward with a cocky smirk and a pep in his step that made you want to kick the back of his legs in. 

Instead, you gently motioned to Lewis with your arm thrown out. 

You'll never forget your friend's reactions like a scene from a telenovela; they all gasped dramatically and clutched their pearls. "Oh, I'm going to beat everybody's ass; why didn't we know y'all were together?"

"We are NOT together." You interrupt.

"So fucking?" Miles pipes up, and you feel like you are on stage with a literal spotlight directed at you, with the way they are all intently observing you, including Lewis.

"Not fucking either." You deny, slapping Lewis' arm as to say, help me out here. He shakes his head at you, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It was a one-time thing that we both agreed would never happen again. This is the consequence of our actions that night." You put your hands on your pudgier stomach. "Yay!" you cheer quietly.

Whit stands first, and with tears in her eyes, she throws her arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a hug. Mori stands after already having been emotional since the initial announcement. She saunters over with a coo of "Aww, mama bear," joining in on the embrace. 

Lewis' boys stand up, Miles put his hand out to Lewis for a dap and ends up pulling him into a hug. "One step closer." He chuckles gripping Lewis' shoulder as he steps back. 

Daniel grins, approaching Lewis with his arms open and ready, "I'm proud of you, brother." He congratulates them through his own wide grin. 

You turn to Lewis with your bottom lip poked out as your friends kneel around your tiny belly. It doesn't even really look like there's a child in there, but that doesn't halt your friends from gently caressing it.

You wipe away an unsuspecting tear as Miles coos gently to your stomach, "Hope you don't get your dad's forehead, lil man."

"She's a girl!" Whit scowls, mushing his face away from your belly.

"We don't know what it is, actually." Daniel returns Whit's actions, mushing her to the right as he emerges front and center.

Lewis, who had stood off to the side watching your friend's love on you and your unborn baby, steps to your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. He leaves a lingering kiss on your hairline before knocking Daniel over with his foot. 

"Don't call my child an it."

-

Your parents, on the other hand, were a completely different story.

Your full government name is shouted by your mother as she holds onto your dad for support. They both look like they've been shot, and the greater betrayal was that you were the one who pulled the trigger. "Oh, Lord in heaven, please!"

"Ma." You whine, "Don't look like that, guys."

Lewis parents are sat beside your own, his mom is eyeing you up and down a interested look dawning her face. When your dad wipes the suprise from his face he looks like he is beginning the five stages of grief. 

"My baby- I can't."

Lewis' mother slaps her ex-husband's thigh, motioning to the anxious look adorning their son's face. 

"Lewis," His mom all but shouts, "Are you the father?" It comes out in a squeal, one that has your parents pausing their dramatics and leaning forward in sync.

Lewis looks like a thief caught red-handed. And just as you looked to him for support earlier, he does the same to you. You shrug at him, throwing your hands into your pockets.

How does it feel to be thrown to the sharks?

He stutters for a while, so he avoids eye contact with your dad. When his father speaks up, his voice is demanding. "Be a man, Lewis, answer."

You almost feel bad watching as your guys' parents sit literally on the edge of their seats. Lewis has never felt more nervous in his life. Deciding to put an end to his misery, you close the distance between you two and intertwine your hands.

"The baby is mine," Lewis announces, and your family jumps up like they've won the lotto.

Unlike your friends, they don't rush to you guys; they rush to each other. Your mom and Lewis' mom bounce up and down as they hug, and like the annoying men your fathers are, they point at each other with wide grins on their faces before they are in each other's embrace as well.

You and Lewis face each other in perplexity.

He clears his throat, and you call out, "Umm, hello?"

"Aww, my baby," your mom cries, rushing to you with her arms held high. You still stare back at Lewis, and your face is set in bafflement as she presses her lips to your cheeks and then cups your belly. Your dad comes barreling through, quite literally pushing your mom out of the way, and he is enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.

Your mom shouts your dad's name, whacking the back of his head, "The girl is pregnant. Be gentle."

He eases back and holds your face in his hands, eyes staring into you with such adoration that it makes you emotional all over again. "My baby is having a baby."

Choked up you see Lewis' parents loving on him in the same manner, you catch Anthony's eyes and he is unraveling himself from his son and pulling you into him. "I couldn't be any more happier, my girl." He talks quietly into your ear as he hugs you. 

As you talk to Lewis' mom, you see your dad and mom embracing Lewis, and you chuckle as he happily accepts their graces.

As time went on they just barely settled down.

"Oh please," you taunt. "You literally looked like you guys were ready to kill me." 

You watch on in puzzlement as they begin writing Facebook posts. 

"Yes, my darling." Your mother hums. 

"Before we found out Lewis was the father." His mom adds with a cheeky smile.

"So?" your dad motions between the two of you, relaxing comfortably on the loveseat. "How long has this been a thing?"

At your words, the grin is wiped from his face, "It's not."

"Have you defiled my daughter Lewis Carl Dav-"

"Dad!" you shout, groaning again as he turns to Anthony with an incredulity like no other. 

"So, maybe let's not do Facebook?" You suggest.

Lewis raises from beside you sauntering over to the dad couch, he sits on the arm of the chair beside your dad and talks lowly to them. You cannot hear what he says but by the way a grin covers the faces of the entire couch you know he's used his classic Hamilton charm on them.

He watches you as he speaks and shoots you a wink when he sees you trying to read his lips. 

"I think we're going to head back to our wing of the house." He announces and that's your cue to start lifting from the couch. 

You say your goodbyes, giving everyone smooches and welcoming the last of their congratulations. Lewis saunters over to you after doing the same and reaches for your hand. You graciously accept, waving one final time before he pulls you from the secondary house. 

"So how are we going to go about this?" You question as the two of you walk hand in hand.

"However you want."

"I don't like how you just agree with everything I say; give me some input; this is your child, too." You ensure, "I'm open to what you want as well."

"I want you to be close to me during the pregnancy. It'd make me feel better for sure." He hums.

"Can I ask how that'd work? You're going to be traveling for the season. I want to keep my job for as long as I can."

"I want you to be stress free, I meant what I said, I'll take care of anything you need. Please just- you don't have to quit forever; just let me take care of you while you're pregnant, at least."

He looks so concerned with the idea of you working that it has you reaching up to physically push the frown from his face. You stop in front of him and poke your finger on his face by the corner of his mouth.

"Stop pouting," you instruct, "I work for my dad, after all. I think he'll understand."

He breathes a sigh of relief, grabbing your hand again as you start walking ahead of him.

"I also want everyone to know the baby's mine." He adds. "Unless you planned on keeping them out of the light, which I get-"

"Done." You cheese. "I'll let the world know you knocked me up, Sir Hamilton. More requests?"

"Move in with me."

You don't say anything as you turn to face him. The moon creates a glow around the two of you as you glance up at him. 

"C'mon, I purchased the house because you liked it anyway," he shrugs. "You're there more than me during the season; Roscoe loves having you there; I love having you there. Plus, you love it there."

You stare up at him with an admiration like no other. It has him turning his blushing face to the side.

"I did say it'd be the perfect home for a kid one day, huh?" You squeal, wrapping yourself around him, "I'm so excited!"

He lifts you with one arm like you weigh nothing, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

"I'm excited, too." He hums as he walks you into the primary home. The lights are all off as he carries you up the stairs and into your room. He plops you down onto the bed, crouching down to pull your slippers from your feet. 

"I can do that myself, you know? I'm not that pregnant yet." You huff.

"What kind of man would I be if I had my baby mama doing anything?" He smirks up at you.

"All it took was me carrying your child for you to be awfully sweet to me, would've fucked you sooner."

"Always sweet to you," Lewis smiles up at you, "gotta stop talking like that to me if you don't want me to get the wrong idea."

"Mhmm." You fall back into the bed.

Lewis crawls onto the bed beside you, laying his head against your stomach; he pokes you, making you jump.

"Stop it, I'm ticklish." You warn; he only smiles, nestling further into you. "There's a baby in here." His voice is so low you almost miss it. 

"Thank you." You express gently, rubbing your fingers through his braids. 

"For what?" utters Lewis as his palm rubs in circular motions against your belly. 

"For giving me everything I've ever wanted."

"I always will."

-

Whoever came up with the saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder was truly right. Although it was less than ideal, you and Lewis were back as if it had never happened. In fact, it's like the time you had away from each other forced you into the beautiful dynamic the two of you have now. Neither of you wanted to be without the other again.

It had been three months since your beautiful discovery, so that put you at a whopping five months pregnant.

Your belly was now noticeably bigger and rounder, much bigger than it would've been if Lewis' family didn't have a history of twins. And it was most definitely getting in the way of things, literally. 

You huff as you struggle to squat down low enough to lift the box of blankets you packed. Just as you feel yourself get a good enough grip on the box and you begin to lift Lewis is by your side wearing a disapproving scowl.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to carry stuff out of here."

"Lewis," you huff, "It's literally just blankets."

"I don't care, sit down." He orders.

You stomp away from him, plopping down on the couch. He walks out of the front door and returns only moments later, waltzing into your kitchen.

He appears again with a plate full of orange slices, and you sigh as he approaches you.

"Lewis, there's only so many orange slices I can take in a day, buddy."

"The doctor said oranges are a good snack for month five," he pouts, "my kids need vitamin C."  

"Trust me, belly's fine."

Almost like they can sense the presence of food, they kick at you, and you, still not used to the sensation, cup your stomach in a gasp.

"Mhhm," Lewis disapproves, "feed my babies." He is setting the plate of fruit in your lap, bending quickly to peck your stomach. "I have a few more boxes to help them load and then I'll be taking you home, okay."

You can only offer him a puffy smile, your cheeks filled with fruit. He chuckles leaning over to ruffle your hair and he's pulling your forehead to his lips pressing a chaste kiss there before he's walking towards the stack of boxes.

You dreamily sigh, watching his glistening tatted back contract as he lifts the heavy mass. 

These fucking babies were turning you into a horny mess. 

It was the second week of June. A week later than the deadline, you promised Lewis that you'd move into his home. Well, your home now, too.

It was safe to say that Lewis meant business. You had spent the last few months bouncing from country to country, attending every race with him and basking in the free time with each other, which he had before and after races. 

When you opted to skip the Canadian Grand Prix under the pretense that you would go home to oversee the movers, he hesitantly drove you to the airport the day before qualifying. 

But when you got home and your preganacy brain got to you, you realized you scheduled your movers for the wrong saturday. You could've sworn Lewis was having a panic attack with the way he was in hysterics over the facetime call as you explained your situation.

He had booked himself a very late flight after his race and appeared at your doorstep with an armful of plant-based treats and a carton of strawberry fro-yo. "It's good for the babies." He smiled sheepishly as he rushed in. 

And here you were now, big and bored, spread across the couch as Roscoe snuggled into your side. You don't remember falling asleep next to your furry friend, but as Lewis gently shakes you awake with an adorable twinkle in his eyes you can't even be bothered to be irritated.

"Hey, mama," he coos. "You ready to head out?"

You nod, still groggy, swinging your legs over the couch and preparing to stand. Lewis catches you off guard as he swoops you into his arms, carrying you bridal style with ease. He calls for Roscoe as he slips through the front door. 

He opens the passenger side door of his car and sits you down softly, reaching over you to grab the seatbelt. And he's so close to you that it has your heart hammering when his hand swipes against your chest to pull at the belt. 

"I'll be back in a second, going to lock up here."

He smirks as he closes the door and you see him taking his precious time to make it back into your former home. 

You were no fool; truthfully, you were fully aware of the sexual tension that hung between you and Lewis since the night of his birthday. 

There were lingering touches and gazes that you were sure were sexually charged. You've even noticed Lewis' impure reactions to you, and it made your brain race with questions.

The driver's side door opening drew you from your thoughts as Lewis appeared this time covered in a white tee. You will away your disappointment and reach for his phone to play some music. When you do you see a message from a saved contact.

Marie

Isn't it about time for you to come see me again?

"You've got a message." You tell him nonchalantly even though your heart aches.

"From who?"

You try to hand him the phone, but he waves it off, reversing the car. "Can you read it to me?"

"Marie, she says, and I quote, Isn't it about that time for you to come see me again? You late to a link, Lew?" You laugh even though there isn't shit funny to you.

"You can block her." He declares casually. 

"Huh?"

"Block her for me." He orders, but he still hasn't turned to look at you. "She was just someone I saw when I was in Canada."

"Lewis, you don't have to end your fun on my account; I'm the pregnant one. You do know that you don't have to."

"Yeah." He pushes out hoarsely. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. In a way, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Life with Lewis has felt so extra domestic lately. It was almost like the two of you were in a relationship, minus the physical affection. And even then, that physicality was there; you two just never kissed or, well, had sex.

You wondered if he felt it the same way you had.

But then the thought lingers in the back of your head: did he see her when you left to come home?

The way he was acting oddly uncomfortable with the conversation gave you your answer, and in the end, you couldn't fault him for it.

You do as he instructs, clicking Marie's contact and blocking her number, and then you continue on with your initial mission and scroll through Lewis' Spotify until you find music to your liking.

The rest of the drive is silent except for the soft melodies escaping his speakers.

When you pull into Lewis' driveway, he parks, turns off the car, and hurries to your side, opening the door before you even have the chance to do so. He opens the backdoor and holds onto your hand. "Roscoe, c'mon boy."

He leads you into the home like you haven't passed through the very same doors a million times before. 

"Which room did they move me into?" You question making your way upstairs.

"Oh," Lewis pauses, "I figured you'd be with me, in mine."

"Oh, okay."

You walk past him and further up the stairs as he trails behind you.

When you enter his room you beeline straight into his closet, well you guys' closet and sure enough there are more of your belongings taking up space. 

You stand on your tiptoes to reach for one of his tee shirts. He is behind you in an instant, one hand holding your hip firmly and forcing your feet back onto the ground. The other reaches up and grasps the shirt you had been aiming for. 

When you turn to take the shirt from him, he once again gives you the same disapproving gaze he'd given you earlier.

"Oh God, Lewis. I can't even get on my tiptoes anymore?" You question, pulling the shirt from his grasp.

"You could've tipped over." He argues, following you out of the closet. "You want a bath or a shower tonight?" He queries, already heading into the bathroom.

"A bath, please; my body is killing me." 

"Put this on," he orders, tossing you your robe. 

You strip from your shorts and tee-shirt throwing the robe on and waiting patiently for Lewis to emerge from the bathroom. 

When he does, he's shirtless, and the sweats are hanging low.

"I've got your bath running. Sit down," he orders, pointing to the bed. 

"Why?" you question, but you're already moving to the bed and plopping down. 

"Why do you question everything?" He chuckles. And he is slipping behind you in an instant, his hands instantly moving up to knead at your shoulders.

You can't help the moan you let out. "Fuck, that feels great. Thank you."

"It's the least I can do, letting my youngsters beat you up all day."

You can only chortle as his hands move along your back. 

"Gonna come out feisty, like you."

"I am not," you argue.

"yeah, okay." He whispers, his hands traveling lower and lower. His hands are gripping your sides firmly as his thumbs massage masterfully into your back.

"Fuck, Lewis." You mewl.

"Feels good?"

"Yeah." 

You almost cry as you feel him lifting behind you, but when he pushes you onto your back gently and cradles your legs, the whine in your throat is replaced with a nervous gulp. 

His hands caress your thighs, moving up and down expertly, and you bask in the comfort.

"I didn't sleep with her in Canada, never even saw her this year."

"Oh," you murmur with your eyes closed. On the outside, you were calm, but mentally, you were shrieking tears of joy. 

"Haven't been sleeping around." He announces again. 

When you say nothing, he persists, "Haven't been with anyone since you."

You know Lewis so well that you can predict his face even before you open your eyes.

His voice sounds a bit gravelly and shaky, and you know he's peering up at you through his perfect lashes, waiting to gauge your reaction. 

So when you open your eyes and see him hovering over your legs exactly as you imagined, you can only shoot him a purposeful smile.

"I figured. You've spent all of your time with me." You shrug. He nods relief washing over him. In all honesty he was happy that you recognized the switch in him. Recognized that all of his focus was soley on you and your unborn babies, who you've nicknamed belly. 

"Five months is a long time to go without sex." You declare, and he bobs his head to the side, 

"Not really, not for me. What about you?" 

He feels his heart leap with joy at your next words.

"I haven't slept with anyone else since you either. I've gone longer without sex, so five months would've been easier if I wasn't lugging around two hormone gremlins." 

You both share a laugh as you motion to your round belly. 

"You're suffering then?"

"Suffering like a motherfucker." You huff.

"I can fix that."

You sit up, coming face to face with him; he stares at you intensely. It was your idea, not to mention the night you two had shared, as well as your doing, to solidify the fact that you two would never sleep together again.

However, your emotions were running, and your hormones were at an all-time high, so could anyone really even blame you for pulling his mouth to yours in a searing kiss?

Like the time before, it's like Lewis is ready for you. He pushes you back down, his legs still holding him above you. This time, Lewis takes the initiative, spreading your mouth open and entering like it's home. One of his elbows is being used as leverage to hold him above your bump. His other hand has your jaw in a tight grip, holding you in place.

Your hands are exploring his body. Traveling the expanse of his chest to his back, anything you can reach. 

He disconnects his mouth from yours, his head turning towards the bathroom. "Shit, sorry."

He stands, shooting you a sorrowful look as he beelines into the washroom.

When he appears again, he is looking at you with hungry eyes, but his words are so domestic that you are ready to jump his bones.

"Made your bath too hot. Got time to let that cool down."

You smirk at him, beckoning him over. You're both sitting angled towards each other and just as you move forward to touch his lips with your own he is moving his head to the side forcing you to peck the corner of his mouth.

You lean back with furrowed brows. "What was that?"

"I want to clarify something first, this time. So we won't have a repeat of last time."

Damn, you scream to yourself. You were already extremely horny, and now you'd have to sit and listen to him declare that this was a means of pleasure only. Which in return would most likely turn you off. So yay, no life-altering dick for you tonight.

"Go on then." You wave your hand, and Lewis laughs.

"Patience, you horny beast." 

You gasp, thumping his head.

"But really, I, um, wanted to let you know this for a while. It's been on my mind even heavier since my birthday."

"Okay," 

"I love you." He blurts, "and not in the conventional friendship way, you're my best friend but I love you more than that. And I have for as long as I could remember."

You feel like you've been freed from hell's gates; everything in you feels so much lighter, so much more merrier. 

Like always, when Lewis tries to find the words to say, his head is tilted downwards to the side as he works through what to say. His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he can't find it in him to look at you quite yet. He has to say how he feels now, or he'll never say it.

"I'm the man I am today because of you. You've been with me every step of the way. You've never turned your back on me or gotten sick of me; you've been everything I've ever wanted from the beginning. I've tried to fill the void of not having you with other... distractions, should I say. And it never made me forget about you, never made me want you any less, always made me want you even more."

You choke up at his words. This was all you've ever wanted to hear spoken to you.

"I love you and I feel like I have ever since I've been able to have complex emotions. You are my childhood dream. Over the racing and the luxury lifestyle, over anything. I've always wanted you more than anything. I meant every word I said to you on my birthday, and I'm taking accountability now for the argument. I wanted to hear you say that you meant the words you said to me, like I meant the words I said to you. I should have just admitted it. But I didn't, and I was a fool; I regret it every day. But I love you all the same."

He peers up at you through his lashes and through his own teary eyes he can see the tears bubbling over the surface as you poke out your bottom lip in your classic pout.

"Oh, Lew," you whine, wrapping him in such a tender embrace. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words."

He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, and you can feel wetness glide down your collar.

You grasp his head in your hands, cupping his cheeks so that you can see him eye to eye.

"I love you," you state. "More than the entire world, I've always told you that, and I've always meant it."

His lips twitch, and his eyes soften. Finally, he breaks into a smile. "How much I love you is unexplainable, Lew. I've been fighting myself forever about it, frustrated that I'd never see anyone like I see you. I've been settling because I thought I couldn't have you. You're all I've ever wanted. And I meant what I said that night, too. I was made for you and only you, always only ever been yours. No one has had my heart but you."

This time, the kiss is passionate and slow. You taste saltiness as you succumb to each other. You separate with a gasp, hand coming down to soothe your stomach. "They're beating me up again." You whisper, watching as their tiny feet nudge against your stomach.

Lewis bends down, pressing pecks to your bulging belly, "Think they're just celebrating."

You watch from above with a loving smile on your face. "My little family." You coo, bringing your hand up to rest in Lewis' hair.

"I'm going to marry you, you know that, right?" Lewis peers up at you. 

"I sure would hope so." And you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

"They're not stopping." He announces, his hand covering your own on your belly.

"They always get excited when you're close to me." You admit. 

His eyes crinkle at your words, and his mouth spreads into a grin.

"I'm happy to be with you guys, too," he coos to your gut, "but we have to let Mama relax, okay." At his words, the thumps from inside of you come to a halt, and you and Lewis marvel at each other.

"Wow," you whisper.

"Come on." He is standing from the bed, holding his hand out for you. 

He helps you stand from the bed, gently pulling you into the bathroom.

When you're inside, he faces you towards the mirror. He unclasps the necklace sitting it onto the bathroom counter and slowly his hands travel to your front to untie your robe. It falls off of your shoulders and he proceeds to drag it down your arms and from your body.

You stare at him through the mirror with no shame as he trails his eyes along your body.

"Most beautiful woman in the world." He hums. You're standing in front of him naked as he reaches past you to drop your now discarded robe beside your necklace.

As he does so, he presses lingering kisses to your neck. 

He steps back, holding out his arm to direct you into the bathtub.

"Get in with me?" You suggest as you notice him standing off to the side. 

Lewis curses himself for feeling like a shy virgin around you every time you even remotely flutter your eyes at him. 

"Please." You add submerging yourself into the warm water.

Lewis slips from his sweats, easing into the tub at the other end.

"Remember when we used to have baths together as kids?" You reminisce, blowing a pile of bubbles at him.

Lewis leans back, his arms dangling over the edge. "Simple times."

"You remember when you pooped?" You tease, leaning forward.

Lewis splashes you a tiny bit, bubbles landing on your face. "That was you," he denied.

"Big fat liar." you cackled. 

Lewis sees you inching towards him like a tiger on the prowl. You're in his lap before he knows it, your arms locked around his neck. He wraps his own around your waist.

No more words are spoken between you two. You lift your soapy hand and tilt his head up to you, pressing your mouth to his.

Lewis groans into your mouth as you settle over him.

"Want you so bad." You confess, your lips trailing from his mouth to his jaw and down into the crevice of his neck.

Your hand reaches down between the two of you, and you smile against his skin as you grip him.

So hard already.

Lewis throws his head back against the porcelain as you wrap your hand around him in a snug grasp. 

You're in his ear saying some of the most obscene words he's ever heard as you sit on top of him, tugging him. He can feel your belly rubbing against his, and it's driving him mad.

"Want to make love? Can we do that, Lewis? Make it even better than the last time."

Lewis gasps out his words as you sit back on his legs and use both of your hands to twist and tug on him. He bites on his bottom lip and grips you tighter. "Fuck, yes. Please"

You can only smile at him as you observe his resolve crumbling. You don't stop even as he begins to spasm and continually moan out your name. He grunts one last time before it transforms into a fit of masculine whimpers. He literally falls apart in your hands as you massage him through his release. 

"Got another one in you?" You ask, already positioning yourself over him.

He opens his eyes, pupils blown and wild. And then his bitten and swollen lips spread into a dopey smile.

You give him a peck; widening said smile before you line him up at your entrance. The smile is wiped from his face as his facade once again contorts to one of pure pleasure.

You can only gasp and move your grip to his shoulders as you sink onto him inch by inch until you feel him nestled tightly into you.

"Fuck." He groans.

You ease your body up and down over him slowly, he's so fucking big.

You moan as you continue your slow pace. You want to take your time with him. But it was getting increasingly hard feeling that delicious stretch every time you lifted over him.

Lewis hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sank down onto him. He is staring at you like you hung the sun, moon, and the stars yourself.

He uses both of his hands to pull your mouth towards his, "I love you." He breathes into you, pressing passionate pecks onto your lips. He holds your face close to his, maintaining eye contact as you roll over him. 

Your mouth drops open as you feel him lift his hips over and over. Between his eyes piercing into you and the slow, languid strokes he's giving you, you weren't sure what would throw you over the edge first. 

You moan quietly as you feel the blaze building in your belly. He's so big that it feels like he's entering you for the first time all over again.

You feel inebriated by him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He's still just as vocal as he was the first time, and it's putting you in overdrive.

Lewis is thrusting up into you with a force that has the breath leaving your lips in sharp pants with every re-entry.  

Your foreheads fall against each other, both of you watching your bodies drive against the water.

Lewis is lifting you from his lap like you weigh nothing. He turns you around to face the opposite way. You gasp as he pulls your arms up and directs you to hold onto the end of the tub in front of you. You're on your knees, arms holding your upper body out of the water. You feel his knees slide in between your spread legs, and his hands caress up and down your wet back. 

One hand settles on your shoulder, the other on your waist, and then he is sliding into you slowly. You hang your head, letting out a deep breath, "fuck." you cry out as he strokes at such a deliberately slow momentum.

As he pushes into you, his grip on your shoulders forces you back at the same time. He's going so slow but getting so deep that it has you tightening your grip. 

When he hits your spot, you lurch forward.

He pulls you back onto him, his hand tightening against your waist.

"Don't run. Stay with me." He orders, his voice is deep and raspy. "This what you wanted, remember?"

You nod your head, eyes closing shut as your thighs quiver. "Oh god."

"Want to make you feel better." He moans. "I was waiting for you to let me see this pretty pussy again." He hums, and you feel his hands spread you apart.

"So fucking pretty, so tight."

It was like he was tormenting you, giving you an inch and then taking a mile every time he pushed into you slowly just to have you wallowing for more when he pulled himself out.

"You're being greedy, mama." He chuckles as you push yourself back onto him. "take what you want then."

At his words, you begin to swivel your hips back at a much quicker pace, feeling his pelvis brush against your ass with every motion.

"C'mon, take it." he grunts. "that's right, want it so bad."

You pull yourself forward, only to spiral back into him repeatedly. Lewis is a mess behind you, his hands reaching up to hold his braids from his face. He kneels there and allows you to use his body in any way you please. 

He takes in an unsteady breath when you tighten around him. As you drag your pussy over him, he feels himself being tugged with you. "So tight." he moans, "don't even wanna let me go."

He pulls you up by your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, and begins hammering into you over and over. One hand travels to your throat, and his grip is temperate. 

"All you needed, huh? Feel better already?"

You nod your head, yes, head falling back onto his shoulder. He pummels into you stroke after stroke until he feels it. You constrict around him, hands coming to grip his arm, and you moan his name over and over. 

He doesn't show you any mercy. He keeps up his fast pace as you writhe in his arms. His head falls, and as he feels himself come undone, he bites down on your shoulder with a growl that lights your body on fire all over again. You feel him spurt into you, and you whine as he nestles himself into your core further. 

After a while, Lewis pulls himself from your gut with a hiss. He reaches down and unplugs the drain. He sits, spreading his legs and pulling you in between them. When you're nestled against his chest, he sighs, once again placing his hand on your neck to angle your face towards his. He places a sensual kiss on your lips before letting you go with a smile.

"Should I run us a bath, or do you want to hop in the shower for a quick wash?"

You turn to the left, observing the standing shower, and you scoff. "you've ruined my legs, Lew; I couldn't stand in there if I wanted."

"Bath it is." He grins, already reaching for the knobs.

"Plus, I want to sit with you like this for a while. Bask in this."

"I love you," he expresses, "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

_

Spoiler alert: he never did. As the days went on and turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months, and Lewis never changed his affections. You two were in a constant honeymoon phase, which you were sure was permanent.

You two were perfect for each other in every sense and made each other whole. 

The dynamics that made you two the perfect friends bled over into your relationship, and things were flawless, to say the least.

Until, you felt a popping feeling and then a gush of water fall between your legs. Lewis was on his way home from the airport having left to race in Singapore he was relieved that he'd be back three days before your expected due date.

But when he gets a call from his best friend and hears your cranky voice in the background, his heart hammers with nerves. 

"Miles, I swear to fucking god," he hears you groan. "if he doesn't have his high yellow ass to the hospital before I push these goddamn babies out of me, I will kill him. Tell him I will kill him."

"You heard her, man," Miles stammers. He hears commotion over the phone, and he gives up his useless attempts to grab either of your attention.

"Oi Miles!" He hears a slap in the background. "Oh my fucking god," you cry out. "Where is Whit? I don't want your help, fucking men."

Miles reappears on the screen; he looks disheveled and like he's just been in a cat fight, "Hey, brother." he pants. "I'm trying here, just how far are you?" 

"Lewis leans forward, seeing his ETA on his driver's screen. "Only ten minutes. Is she okay?" His voice is full of concern, and Miles squawks.

"Brother, ten minutes is too long. She just absolutely beat my ass for putting the wrong treats in the bag. There are a million gummies in here. How am I sup-"

"Gushers, Miles. On the top shelf of the pantry behind the rice cakes."

"Why the hell are there gushers behind rice cakes?" He cries out, rushing to the pantry. Lewis sees you in the background as Miles breezes by.

You stand in the middle of the living room face set in a pout one hand grasping the a bag of organic gummies and the other holding your phone to your ear. 

"Whit!" He hears you cry out, "I'm about to have these fucking babies alone with fucking Miles! Fucking Miles! And he gives me fucking Annes organic fruit snacks, Whitney! Why the fuck would I want organic candy? And Lew hid the gushers, and he's not going to be here in time, and I don't know where he put them."

Miles drops his jaw, halting his reach for the treats. "Hey, I'm trying my best! I want the best for you and my godchildren. I'm trying here!"

"Your trying isn't enough; obviously, I need the god mom. Whit! Fucking men, can't even find my fucking candy." You call out again. 

"Ugh- did she just stomp away from me." 

The call disconnects, and Lewis lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls into his neighborhood. He rushes out of the car, running up the steps of you guys' home. When he enters the foyer, he rushes to where he saw you last on the phone. Only you're not standing in the living room in distress. It's Miles slumped onto the couch with a family pack of gushers in his lap. He notices the two gusher wrappers beside his friend, and he storms up to him, snatching the box and slapping the side of his head.

"Where's my baby?" 

"Upstairs, y'all are going to learn how to appreciate me one day. I'm the godfather to your children-"

Lewis smacks his teeth, rushing up the stairs and into your bedroom. He sees you lugging your baby bag onto the bed, and he rushes over to you, pulling it from your grasp. 

"Hey bunny, I'm here." 

Your lip wobbles as you look up at him, and you let out a relieved cry. Lewis opens his arms to embrace you, and you quickly pull the box from his hands, stuffing it into your bag. 

"I was looking for these." You cried.

Lewis, used to your pregnant shenanigans, allows you to cry tears of relief for the sudden appearance of your after-labor treat. It's all you'd been asking for for weeks, but your doctor had you on a strict diet.

"Bunny," he persists, his arms open. You sniffle, stepping into his embrace.

"How are you feeling?"

"My vagina hurts, and I was scared you weren't going to make it." 

He chuckles, holding you close to him, "always going to make it when it comes to you guys."

It's safe to say your mood didn't get any better when you made it to the hospital. 

Lewis was by your side as you held onto his hand for dear life.

"Baby," he coos, "you're doing great."

"Oh my god," you wince, pulling your hand from his as you clutch the sheets. "Get the fuck away from me."

He looks baffled as you curse up a storm.

Lewis takes a step back only to be nudged forward again by the doctor. "Trust me, she'll murder you if you get away from her."

He holds onto your hand again, using the towel to wipe the sweat from your hairline.

Even now as you take in deep breaths and hang your head like you're about to die, Lewis think you are beautiful. You're glistening with sweat and throwing out words that would make a pastor faint but you're still beautiful with your freshly done birthing braids and bewildered face.

"Oh fuck this! Count the shit, measure the shit, whatever, and check again. I don't care if I'm not dilated enough; make it enough! Get these babies out of me."

You were regretting your decision to go all-natural as another contraction rippled through you. You let go of the sheet and grasp Lewis' hand again.

You look up to him, and he is staring at you in pure adoration. "I promise, you've got this." He encourages.

You feel tears of relief pool as your doctor let's out a direct order. "And we're there, when I get to three you push, okay."

You only nod as Lewis crouches down, "Push like hell, bunny."

You don't count how many times you hear him count to three or how many agonizing pushes you give until you hear the first cry. You're momentarily distracted as you watch them hold your baby into the air. 

"Come on, Mom, got to keep going," your doctor orders. 

You exhale, taking another deep breath as you push again. Lewis remains by your side, holding your hand and coaxing you through the pain.

"You're doing so great, bunny. So proud of you. We're about to meet our babies; we just have to push a little bit more." 

His words are all you need to get through another insufferable ninety seconds before you hear an even louder cry. 

Lewis kisses the top of your head as you fall back in exhaustion. "So proud of you, baby, hmm. I love you."

You're no longer the angry woman you were twenty minutes ago. You're looking up at Lewis with tired eyes that still glow with love and excitement.

"Baby boy came first." Your doctor hums settling him on one side of your chest, Another nurse comes forward settling your second baby on the oposite side. "And his sister came to stake her territory after."

You cry out, but it comes out in the form of a laugh. Your hands come up to hold both of your babies against your chest. Lewis crouches down, eyeing you three in amazement.

"My beautiful family." 

He places a kiss atop each head, watching as they instantly settle down amongst your warm body. 

You've never felt so much love in your life. You think back to all of the times you felt you were destined to be alone, all of the times you craved for someone to love you unconditionally. You gave up hope that you'd find it in a partner, so a baby was all you craved. But here you were with a man who loved you more than it was possible for love to exist. Here you were with two products of that love. 

You order the nurse to remove one of the railings so the Lewis can nestle in beside you. The doctor suggest for him to remove his shirt and he does so quickly, gently sliding beside you. You motion for him to grab the babygirl and he eases her onto his chest with ease. You peck his head as you watch the tears glide down his face. 

"I just love you all so much." he cries. 

And you know exactly how he feels as you two bask in the moment.

You think back to the moment that made this all possible, laying in Lewis' bed as the words leave his mouth, "It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you."

Looking at your two babies, you could tell they each were going to represent a part of both of you. As your daughter lets out constant noises, Lewis turns to you with knowing eyes, "Just like her mama." Your son's eyes pop open at the sound of his sister, and you coo, "Brother bear."

"Do we have names ready?" The doctor hums.

-

y/u/n

liked by fencer, champagnepapi, and 2,786,901 others

y/u/n I want to share this love I found with everyone. you deserve to meet my happy family after all of this time. Of all of the things that I wanted to be, being a mother was always my true calling. It's not easy, but it's worth it. To my babies, mommy loves you always; when the world is cruel, and your heart makes you feel like a fool, know that I will be there always. To LJ, my daring little boy, I see your father in everything you do; you will always be my baby bear, so strong and courageous, but with a mind so strong and a heart so big, you're forever unstoppable. My baby, Giana, Gigi girl, you came into the world demanding to be heard. You're fierce and bold in all of the best ways. Already, I admire the way you think and the things I know you will do. You heal a part of me I didn't know needed healing. You're my favorite girls girl, I love listening to you yap puppy, I love that you love talking to me. Always stand your ground, girly; never dull your light or lower your voice for anyone or anything. If no one listens, know I will. And to the love of my life, who has given me everything I could've ever wanted, plus more. You've outdone yourself, Lew; there aren't enough words to articulate how much I love you. Still my best friend, soon to be my husband, forever and always, the love of my life <3

view all comments

lewishamiton I can never think you enough for all that you've given to me. I love you more than life bunny. ❤️

user okay but the family of crochet animals. PUPPY? BEAR? CHEETAH? BUNNYYYY? 🥲

whitwhit still so proud of you mama ❤️

y/u/n the best god mommy in the world! I love you.

landonorris Mother🤰🏽Literally. Beautiful souls, even more beautiful children.

y/u/n love love love you Lando

user i always knew they'd get together one day, my happy heart!

lewishamilton

liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamg, and 7,796,801 others

lewishamilton Thank you will never be enough for all that has been given to me. I love you, bunny, and every time I think it's impossible to feel more than that, you prove me wrong. To the rest of our lives together, to our children, and to the life I've had with you. We're in this together, forever. Daddy loves you, LJ, and Gigi, forever here, forever loving you.

charles_leclerc So happy for you man!

sebastianvettel never have you been happier man, congratulations.

user you mean to tell me that all of this time we thought he was uncle lew and whole time HE'S THE PAPPYYYY

lewishamilton like these are my kids, that my son. I was so bothered by that ngl. THEY LOOK JUST LIKE ME.

user you tell us not to assume and then when we don't assume you want us to assume what do you want from us sir?!?!

so this is the end that's not the end, I'll most likely make blurbs for their future 🌚

hope you enjoyed it.

not proofread sorry for any mistakes I was rushing honey

@barcelonaloverf1life @mitruscity

[cosmic-walkers]

I spoke about this on twitter, so I will speak about it here as well. I've had issues with making Rhaena and Baela (and Laena) black because I felt that the show very much underutilized them as characters and essentially made the plot devices for Daemon and Rhaenyra without giving them agency outside of those two. In general, their presences are heavily reduced to make them building blocks for the whit characters.

So this issue with Nettles’s arc being given to Rhaena is even more unsettling because these two are both Black women, who deserve their own separate narratives. This thing where they make characters Black only to reduce their plot importance is already insulting enough, but ruining storylines for two Black women is just lazy and disrespectful.

Rhaena deserves her own narrative. She deserves to be the last Targ woman who was able to hatch a dragon egg before Daenerys, her connection to Daenerys is supposed to be prophetical, so let it be. Let her have her own character and her own arc. They are both the mother of dragons, so let's not suddenly forget that. And having a Black woman as the predecessor to that title is important.

Nettles deserves to exist. Don’t erase a Black woman’s whole existence just to lazily slap it on another one who has an established arc. It's important to showcase a non-targ able to actually ride a dragon and tame one and to also show her importance to the Dance. She is a player even if she doesn't have Valaryian blood in her. And she is Black! That is important too.

Black characters shouldn’t be interchangeable, and making a character Black shouldn’t come at the expense of completely ruining the plot or taking away their agency in a narrative sense. 

[in-a-bucket]

the idea of the mastermind being one in the same with whoever is saying that hidden text is super interesting, but then it gives me the question of how this all started to begin with. since that hidden text implies that said person hated seeing their friends suffer and they hated witnessing it over and over again, and that it took them a while before they started to become bored and if veronika’s story really is foreshadowing then that means this person became terrified at the fact that they were becoming bored. so if the mastermind cares about their friends and didn’t want them to get hurt, why would they start this killing game? 

maybe everyone being trapped in whatever building they’re in was for a different purpose and then it was hijacked and this person even knowing all that they knew couldn’t find a way to stop the KG and eventually just gave up trying, effectively making them the mastermind even if they didn’t start out that way?

with all this extra hidden lore it really makes figuring put the mystery behind the KG and why everyone is there super fun. whether whit turns out to be the mastermind or not, i’m very curious to see how this all fits together in the end

Why I am a die-hard believer that Whit is the mastermind

You know I was going to make an entire structured theory thread about it but Tumblr decided to be a little bitch and remove all my writing so I'll just kinda throw a messy list of evidence here.

Notice how Veronika's summary of Forever Dead is suspiciously similar to the secret dialogue

Notice how the main character's gender is pointed out

It's also interesting how the mysterious dialogue in the beginning who seems to be related to the hidden text (the idea of not being able to remember anymore link those two) seem to often mention the fact that they're grieving the loss of someone.

That someone most likely being Mai who seems to have suffered a tragic fate due to Teruko, which can explain the mastermind's hatred of her.

Guess who's character is linked with grief ?

(I know this is most likely about his mother but there is nothing contradicting the fact that he could be idolizing multiple dead people)

Wow it's interesting how these secret texts about Mai seem to be really idolizing her.

We can also add how the person who wrote the note to Xavier is very clearly the mastermind and how Whit's tool is a Stationery (it's spelled Stationary but i believe its a typo) which is commonly known as writing and other office materials.

Which includes paper, pens, ink, highlighters and other tools for writing

It's even made worse by the fact that the note seems to be written by a specific type of blue pen that we haven't seen anywhere in the series.

And even worse is that Charles, who knows Whit's handwriting, couldn't point out the writing is his as he couldn't access the scene of the crime due to his trauma therefore he couldn't see the note's handwriting.

It's really really interesting how the hidden text points out how they can predict everyone's behavior in a killing game and Whit's intuition is highlighted three times in this game.

Another suspicious thing is how the mastermind of the game talks about how they basically can predict anything that can happen. It's almost like how Whit jokingly predicted Arei's death.

Along with how Whit is the only one who has directly talked to the audience (him showing the papers) or how he's nudged the killing game into more interesting directions/avoided it from going off the rails.

Other exemples would be him defending Teruko/Charles in the first trial, him not revealing David's secret until the last minute (as well as the note that suspiciously pointed to Eden), him not trying to help with the fight in episode 4, him insisting that Charles and Teruko talk about their family life (aka nudging them to talk about their backstory which would entertain the audience) and other stuff i don't feel like adding.

It's also important add that Mono-TV and Whit also have similar personalities. They both don't take anything seriously and make constant jokes about the killing games, Mono-TV and Whit also act constantly incompetent and like they're a lot dumber than they actually are.

Another thing is that it's interesting how Whit opens up about his secret so easily, even though almost everyone's secrets are something they're at least flustered about and at worst completely ashamed by. If he was the mastermind, it would make sense that his secret wouldn't be anything that could ruin his character and that he could just admit easily.

Also another point, the mastermind character talks about a time when they cared so much about people and how it hurt them so much when they died. Which you can see that caring nature shine through a lot with Whit as it's possible that Whit's personnality is not actually a lie but more so a reflection of how he used to be before he went through all this alledged horrible stuff.

We can also note how the mastermind has to be one of the students and how there is an extreme likelyhood that Mono-TV saying it isn't bait because it's not actually told to the students but to us. Why would Mono-TV tell it to us and not to the students if it was a lie meant to make the game more interesting, wouldn't it be more entertaining to reveal to the students of a fake mastermind among them to get them to kill one another more easily. It's why I have no doubt someone in this class has to be the mastermind behind it.

Mono-TV also seems to not have any contact with the person controlling him which would make sense if it was someone in the killing game as they would have a hard time communicating without being caught.

(It's a stretch but it would make more sense if Mono-TV didn't know if the mastermind was one of them as if the mastermind was behind the scenes there would be no reason why it wouldn't interact with Mono-TV, although take this with a grain of salt as he could be lying)

And just really there aren't a lot of other options for the mastermind that would be compelling unless they introduce a mysterious new character.

It could be the mysterious red haired girl but everything hints towards her being dead or hurt and it being the cause for the killing game rather than her being the one behind it. There is some decent evidence that it could be her but I genuinely don't think so considering it again feels a little too obvious and doesn't work with how the story/secrets present her.

(It's just not very compelling to make your ONE mystery character the mastermind and again it would be weird considering Mono-TV telling the audience the mastermind is in cast doesn't make sense logically as he would have no reason to try and trick the audience)

Not a lot of characters in this cast can be really put into the mastermind category as they are either too obvious (teruko, veronika) or too farfetched (eden, hu etc...).

I honestly am a die hard believer that Whit is the mastermind however what's interesting to me is not If Whit is the mastermind but more so the Why ?

Which honestly might be a question for another time...

But yeah this is why I 95 pourcent believe Whit is the mastermind

If anyone has anything more to add I would be really interesting in seeing what other people have in terms of evidence.

[lisafication]

For those who might happen across this, I'm an administrator for the forum 'Sufficient Velocity', a large old-school forum oriented around Creative Writing. I originally posted this on there (and any reference to 'here' will mean the forum), but I felt I might as well throw it up here, as well, even if I don't actually have any followers.

This week, I've been reading fanfiction on Archive of Our Own (AO3), a site run by the Organisation for Transformative Works (OTW), a non-profit. This isn't particularly exceptional, in and of itself — like many others on the site, I read a lot of fanfiction, both on Sufficient Velocity (SV) and elsewhere — however what was bizarre to me was encountering a new prefix on certain works, that of 'End OTW Racism'. While I'm sure a number of people were already familiar with this, I was not, so I looked into it.

What I found... wasn't great. And I don't think anyone involved realises that.

To summarise the details, the #EndOTWRacism campaign, of which you may find their manifesto here, is a campaign oriented towards seeing hateful or discriminatory works removed from AO3 — and believe me, there is a lot of it. To whit, they want the OTW to moderate them. A laudable goal, on the face of it — certainly, we do something similar on Sufficient Velocity with Rule 2 and, to be clear, nothing I say here is a critique of Rule 2 (or, indeed, Rule 6) on SV.

But it's not that simple, not when you're the size of Archive of Our Own. So, let's talk about the vagaries and little-known pitfalls of content moderation, particularly as it applies to digital fiction and at scale. Let's dig into some of the details — as far as credentials go, I have, unfortunately, been in moderation and/or administration on SV for about six years and this is something we have to grapple with regularly, so I would like to say I can speak with some degree of expertise on the subject.

So, what are the problems with moderating bad works from a site? Let's start with discovery— that is to say, how you find rule-breaching works in the first place. There are more-or-less two different ways to approach manual content moderation of open submissions on a digital platform: review-based and report-based (you could also call them curation-based and flag-based), with various combinations of the two. Automated content moderation isn't something I'm going to cover here — I feel I can safely assume I'm preaching to the choir when I say it's a bad idea, and if I'm not, I'll just note that the least absurd outcome we had when simulating AI moderation (mostly for the sake of an academic exercise) on SV was banning all the staff.

In a review-based system, you check someone's work and approve it to the site upon verifying that it doesn't breach your content rules. Generally pretty simple, we used to do something like it on request. Unfortunately, if you do that, it can void your safe harbour protections in the US per Myeress vs. Buzzfeed Inc. This case, if you weren't aware, is why we stopped offering content review on SV. Suffice to say, it's not really a realistic option for anyone large enough for the courts to notice, and extremely clunky and unpleasant for the users, to boot.

Report-based systems, on the other hand, are something we use today — users find works they think are in breach and alert the moderation team to their presence with a report. On SV, this works pretty well — a user or users flag a work as potentially troublesome, moderation investigate it and either action it or reject the report. Unfortunately, AO3 is not SV. I'll get into the details of that dreadful beast known as scaling later, but thankfully we do have a much better comparison point — fanfiction.net (FFN).

FFN has had two great purges over the years, with a... mixed amount of content moderation applied in between: one in 2002 when the NC-17 rating was removed, and one in 2012. Both, ostensibly, were targeted at adult content. In practice, many fics that wouldn't raise an eye on Spacebattles today or Sufficient Velocity prior to 2018 were also removed; a number of reports suggest that something as simple as having a swearword in your title or summary was enough to get you hit, even if you were a 'T' rated work. Most disturbingly of all, there are a number of — impossible to substantiate — accounts of groups such as the infamous Critics United 'mass reporting' works to trigger a strike to get them removed. I would suggest reading further on places like Fanlore if you are unfamiliar and want to know more.

Despite its flaws however, report-based moderation is more-or-less the only option, and this segues neatly into the next piece of the puzzle that is content moderation, that is to say, the rubric. How do you decide what is, and what isn't against the rules of your site?

Anyone who's complained to the staff about how vague the rules are on SV may have had this explained to them, but as that is likely not many of you, I'll summarise: the more precise and clear-cut your chosen rubric is, the more it will inevitably need to resemble a legal document — and the less readable it is to the layman. We'll return to SV for an example here: many newer users will not be aware of this, but SV used to have a much more 'line by line, clearly delineated' set of rules and... people kind of hated it! An infraction would reference 'Community Compact III.15.5' rather than Rule 3, because it was more or less written in the same manner as the Terms of Service (sans the legal terms of art). While it was a more legible rubric from a certain perspective, from the perspective of communicating expectations to the users it was inferior to our current set of rules  — even less of them read it,  and we don't have great uptake right now.

And it still wasn't really an improvement over our current set-up when it comes to 'moderation consistency'. Even without getting into the nuts and bolts of "how do you define a racist work in a way that does not, at any point, say words to the effect of 'I know it when I see it'" — which is itself very, very difficult don't get me wrong I'm not dismissing this — you are stuck with finding an appropriate footing between a spectrum of 'the US penal code' and 'don't be a dick' as your rubric. Going for the penal code side doesn't help nearly as much as you might expect with moderation consistency, either — no matter what, you will never have a 100% correct call rate. You have the impossible task of writing a rubric that is easy for users to comprehend, extremely clear for moderation and capable of cleanly defining what is and what isn't racist without relying on moderator judgement, something which you cannot trust when operating at scale.

Speaking of scale, it's time to move on to the third prong — and the last covered in this ramble, which is more of a brief overview than anything truly in-depth — which is resources. Moderation is not a magic wand, you can't conjure it out of nowhere: you need to spend an enormous amount of time, effort and money on building, training and equipping a moderation staff, even a volunteer one, and it is far, far from an instant process. Our most recent tranche of moderators spent several months in training and it will likely be some months more before they're fully comfortable in the role — and that's with a relatively robust bureaucracy and a number of highly experienced mentors supporting them, something that is not going to be available to a new moderation branch with little to no experience. Beyond that, there's the matter of sheer numbers.

Combining both moderation and arbitration — because for volunteer staff, pure moderation is in actuality less efficient in my eyes, for a variety of reasons beyond the scope of this post, but we'll treat it as if they're both just 'moderators' — SV presently has 34 dedicated moderation volunteers. SV hosts ~785 million words of creative writing.

AO3 hosts ~32 billion.

These are some very rough and simplified figures, but if you completely ignore all the usual problems of scaling manpower in a business (or pseudo-business), such as (but not limited to) geometrically increasing bureaucratic complexity and administrative burden, along with all the particular issues of volunteer moderation... AO3 would still need well over one thousand volunteer moderators to be able to match SV's moderator-to-creative-wordcount ratio.

Paid moderation, of course, you can get away with less — my estimate is that you could fully moderate SV with, at best, ~8 full-time moderators, still ignoring administrative burden above the level of team leader. This leaves AO3 only needing a much more modest ~350 moderators. At the US minimum wage of ~$15k p.a. — which is, in my eyes, deeply unethical to pay moderators as full-time moderation is an intensely gruelling role with extremely high rates of PTSD and other stress-related conditions — that is approximately ~$5.25m p.a. costs on moderator wages. Their average annual budget is a bit over $500k.

So, that's obviously not on the table, and we return to volunteer staffing. Which... let's examine that scenario and the questions it leaves us with, as our conclusion.

Let's say, through some miracle, AO3 succeeds in finding those hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of volunteer moderators. We'll even say none of them are malicious actors or sufficiently incompetent as to be indistinguishable, and that they manage to replicate something on the level of or superior to our moderation tooling near-instantly at no cost. We still have several questions to be answered:

How are you maintaining consistency? Have you managed to define racism to the point that moderator judgment no longer enters the equation? And to be clear, you cannot allow moderator judgment to be a significant decision maker at this scale, or you will end with absurd results.

How are you handling staff mental health? Some reading on the matter, to save me a lengthy and unrelated explanation of some of the steps involved in ensuring mental health for commercial-scale content moderators.

How are you handling your failures? No moderation in the world has ever succeeded in a 100% accuracy rate, what are you doing about that?

Using report-based discovery, how are you preventing 'report brigading', such as the theories surrounding Critics United mentioned above? It is a natural human response to take into account the amount and severity of feedback. While SV moderators are well trained on the matter, the rare times something is receiving enough reports to potentially be classified as a 'brigade' on that scale will nearly always be escalated to administration, something completely infeasible at (you're learning to hate this word, I'm sure) scale.

How are you communicating expectations to your user base? If you're relying on a flag-based system, your users' understanding of the rules is a critical facet of your moderation system — how have you managed to make them legible to a layman while still managing to somehow 'truly' define racism?

How are you managing over one thousand moderators? Like even beyond all the concerns with consistency, how are you keeping track of that many moving parts as a volunteer organisation without dozens or even hundreds of professional managers? I've ignored the scaling administrative burden up until now, but it has to be addressed in reality.

What are you doing to sweep through your archives? SV is more-or-less on-top of 'old' works as far as rule-breaking goes, with the occasional forgotten tidbit popping up every 18 months or so — and that's what we're extrapolating from. These thousand-plus moderators are mostly going to be addressing current or near-current content, are you going to spin up that many again to comb through the 32 billion words already posted?

I could go on for a fair bit here, but this has already stretched out to over two thousand words.

I think the people behind this movement have their hearts in the right place and the sentiment is laudable, but in practice it is simply 'won't someone think of the children' in a funny hat. It cannot be done.

Even if you could somehow meet the bare minimum thresholds, you are simply not going to manage a ruleset of sufficient clarity so as to prevent a much-worse repeat of the 2012 FF.net massacre, you are not going to be able to manage a moderation staff of that size and you are not going to be able to ensure a coherent understanding among all your users (we haven't managed that after nearly ten years and a much smaller and more engaged userbase). There's a serious number of other issues I haven't covered here as well, as this really is just an attempt at giving some insight into the sheer number of moving parts behind content moderation:  the movement wants off-site content to be policed which isn't so much its own barrel of fish as it is its own barrel of Cthulhu; AO3 is far from English-only and would in actuality need moderators for almost every language it supports — and most damning of all,  if Section 230 is wiped out by the Supreme Court  it is not unlikely that engaging in content moderation at all could simply see AO3 shut down.

As sucky as it seems, the current status quo really is the best situation possible. Sorry about that.

[ccrisntok]

Your Masterminds, Whit Young, and Ace Markey! (mm! whace au)

(Spoilers lol)

what normal fellas ahahahahaha (I have poured my entire soul into these two there is nothing left of me)

A basic summary of their relationship:

Whit has spent like, over a year manipulating Ace into being complacent in his plans. In his own eyes, Ace is a sorta-stupid lacky, who he's constantly love-bombing to keep obedient. Although, he is a bit glad for the company... it was sorta empty when Ace was "dead" and they couldn't really talk. And maybe Ace almost dying from his fake execution was a bit disturbing. But he's sure its nothing! (He fell in love with him like a moron.)

Ace has fully fallen in love with Whit. He's not happy about it, but it happened. As a result, he's basically ruined any semblance of his own morality, just so he doesn't lose Whit, or the affection he knows is mostly performative. He's more than happy to kill his fuck-face classmates, after a... bit of prodding, and honestly, he'd do anything Whit asked at this point, even die. He'll still complain about it, though.

i tried to be as original as humanly possible, but I'm def giving credit to @talkativeanonymous, @acethehorseishere, and @a-blog-for-kat all for inspiring these two in one way or another (esp. a-blog-for-kat lol).

anyway there's the art, here's the promised lore. warning for like a million words. I'm serious. It's 1,400 words. you can stop here i don't blame you.

also sorry for the odd looking bullet points, didn't realize you couldn't have gaps lol!

This au operates on a probably un-canon assumption that I pulled out of my ass. That is that Mai Akasaki is both a student in the class of 27, and that she is the "time loop" student. She is usually a part of the killing game, but she isn't this time, for reasons I'll explain in a sec.

This specific loop, Mai is attempting to dissuade the (usual) mastermind from wanting to start a killing game in the first place. That mastermind is Whit Young.

She goes about this by trying to curb Whit's main reason for his descent into despair, his resounding loneliness, by giving him championship. Charles hasn't softened up to the others in any regard yet. But that wasn't the main reason, unbenouced to Mai.

In this loop, and this loop alone, Mai sets Whit and Ace up to be friends. She hopes they can help each other, since they usually end up more or less alone in their school life.

Surprisingly, it works. They get along decently well, although a codependency starts to develop on Ace's side.

Around this time, Whit takes up an internship at XF Future, which Mai doesn't realize. He innocently wants to explore other job options, "Matchmaking" not really being a stable career forever.

Obviously FX Future isn't a normal Tech Company. Whit starts to change, in a barely noticeable fashion, the longer he works there.

Ace notices Whit's contacts start looking a lot more vibrant after Whit takes a couple weeks off school for a "company trip." He thinks it's... sort of pretty.

(Whit's time at XF Future showed him a side of humanity he didn't realize existed. Insane levels of greed, using the concepts of "ultimates" to guide a stupid pubic where the Government wanted them, generally a dystopia. It feeds into his existing detachment from humanity, until he hits a breaking point, setting his sights on ending the "Ultimates" concept by killing the newest class in the public eye, including himself.)

(XF Future develops a new sort of technology, prosthetic "eyes" that basically turn you into a living remote control, able to connect to an entire building if its connected via a computer system. Security cameras, doors, fucking air conditioning- everything.

(Whit offers himself as the test dummy, and it goes perfectly.)

Anyway, Mai decides to talk to Ace, since she's starting to realize he's becoming a bit... softer after hanging out with Whit so much? And hopes like, for once, he'll actually accept help for his mountain of problems.

He doesn't take this conversation very well.

Mai, with knowledge from dozens of loops, accidentally brings up an extremely traumatic event, simply mentioning the name "Tyler" once.

In a blinding mix of rage and horror at Mai's knowledge of the event, that Ace has literally never even spoken about in this timeline, Ace shoves her away from him.

She falls backwards, and splits her head on a desk, killing her instantly.

Ace, in a horrified frenzy, calls Whit, literally his only friend.

Whit shows up. Ace expects him to freak the fuck out, call the cops, or something like that... But he doesn't.

Whit simply tells him they were going to hide the body together, not even remotely caring about Mai's death.

yeah that's a little fucking weird, and its terrifying, but going to jail is scarier sooo Ace goes along with it!

After this, Whit wraps Ace into uncharacteristically cruel pranks against some of their classmates and others at Hopes Peak, oftentimes resulting in physical injury.

He acts like these are completely normal and funny, while Ace is both freaked out by it, and sort of enjoys enacting pain on people he didn't like.

Along the way, Whit notices Ace starting to fall for him. Horrible news for Ace, since Whit plays into those emotions by becoming much more physically and emotionally affectionate. Which he doesn't enjoy, like, at all... not a bit...

Whit convinces Ace to assist him in greater and greater acts of violence until Whit just straight up kills someone (not a classmate, a stranger.)

Ace is of course tied into everything way too deep to stop now, and after all this... he doesn't really want to. So he stays as Whit's accomplice for months, up until Whit's weirdo behavior arrives at the idea of the killing game. He references the "First Killing Game", which Ace had never heard of.

The idea is a bit intense for Ace, but at that point, he didn't have anything beyond Whit. If it took this to stay with him... He'd do it. Even if in the end, they both were going to die.

So they get to work!

Ace had been taking engineering classes at Hope's Peak in hopes of getting out of jockeying, and he'd helped his family build sheds and shit since he was a kid, so he focused on the construction and executions.

Whit wired the building an all-encompassing computer system he could control, as well as stealing "Mono-TV" from XF Future, a robot he can fully control to be the "host" of the game.

He also steals the "mind wiping" technology from XF Future. It's weirdly easy to steal stuff from this company, hm? It's almost like they aren't protecting it...

Whit also uses another piece of experimental biological technology... on Ace.

A screen connected to his brain, a lottt less invasive than Whit's eye surgery. It doesn't impact Ace mentally, it just gives him the ability to produce visible projections for easy construction, communicate with Whit remotely, (and give Whit a way to always know what Ace's condition.)

The screen is unclipped when the game starts, but the brain implant is still connected to Whit, so he can detect Ace's condition.

After kidnapping the class of 27 and wiping their memories... It all starts. A killing game, streamed live to the entire nation.

Whit and Ace start off as a part of the class, interacting with the others like normal, a pretty decent show. Things go roughly as planned, putting everyone in the positions Whit wanted them. Untilll... chapter 2.

Ace gets his ass jumped, and almost dies prematurely. This is fine, Whit privately makes sure the wounds properly cleaned, but it does fill Whit with an... ominous feeling.

Ace still kills Arei, a part of the plan, and gets "executed", so he can more easily upkeep the executions and such behind the scenes.

After the screen playing the fake execution turns off, Whit checks to make sure Ace didn't get injured in his running around... but can't detect anything.

At all.

Ace's heart wasn't beating.

He actually, seriously, had a fucking heart attack.

(Ace's heart attack was for a combination of reasons. Firstly, his heart was actually in pretty bad condition as a result of his eating disorder, something Whit had figured was "over" by now. It wasn't!)

(Second, in that moment, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Whit could have been double-crossing him came to Ace. What if Whit loaded the guns? What if Ace's use was done, and Whit was finally getting rid of him? It was terrifying because he could die, and terrifying because... It'd make sense. It was all that ever happened to him.)

So he had a heart attackkk lameeeeee

This makes Whit tweak the fuck out, internally. (lol pretend his spooky ass sprite happens AFTER the execution, not before. shh its all made up its all pretend)

After Levi gets taken to the infirmary, Whit drops Charles off at his room as quickly as he can, then fucking BOLTS IT to a hidden passageway in his room to the like... Mastermind area, with the execution chamber.

Whit manages to resuscitate Ace in time, barely. And even after that, he's in pretty bad condition. But he's conscious and mobile.

Whit gets him as comfortable as he can, and after spending the night, he sort of... has to leave. He does some tweaks to Ace's brain screen thing, creating a functional heart monitor that Ace (and he) can watch.

As often as he can, Whit sneaks off to the Mastermind area at night to make sure Ace doesn't fucking die in his sleep. But Ace gets... decently better quickly, and returns to his duties overseeing the killing game.

Whit still visits almost every night to make sure Ace wakes up, which he can't really explain to himself. Ace was... supposed to be disposable anyway. Why would it matter if he died?

Anyway yeah the rest of the game happens. No clue there.

In the end, Whit and Ace come out as masterminds (happy pride).

I have a comic planned for how the end goes, soooo... that's it!

holy fuck! my fingers! hi the whole 2 people who made it down this far... uh... did you like my lore.....? do you want me dead now for having you read 1,400 words of two evil homsexuals...? 😅 love you thank you im sorry.

[girllookingoutwindow]

This is an analysis about Colin's reaction to the annulment moment:

Before of it, Pen and Colin are talking about Violet and the letter Pen sent to her. Even when I really believe Violet is proud of her, and he's impressed because of it. He's proud too and this is where he's going whit his words.

Then, she says she would accept an annulment.

People asked me about his reaction many times, and I do understand. Because his face reacts, more than his words. Actually, his words are answering what she says after. The part of hurting his family. In part, because he doesn't understand why she's going with it, better saying he doesn't want to. He's like No, this is not going to happen. Don't say another word about this.

If you look at his eyes, it's very obvious that the idea pains him. The simple idea about it crush his soul. He doesn't want that. Specially because he married her knowing the truth and he didn't care. He was hurt and angry, but not marrying her was never an option. It wasn't like he figured out after the marriage either.

Even then , it wouldn't mean anything. He would choose a life with her whatever that life would be. When she asked him about how this marriage would be?... before the weeding he didn't want to think about it. Because whatever would be, it would be better that a life without her. He's not able to think about it. He didn't wanted to do it before, he doesn't want to do it, now.

Truth is he chose her before his family. She's his family, really.

He was married to her in the moment he went to the dance and followed her carriage. That's what he wanted to do. That was his way of thinking after: 'our Bridgerton name', He knew the risks and he took them anyway. The queen's accepting is the only one thing he cared about. Because he was scared for her, for the life they could have, and he felt guilty to be with her, even he couldn't do otherwise, even that could be the ruin of his family. The queen's acceptance was their freedom. The key to have a happy life, to not have secrets and from shame.

But now, how his family or her are going to be hurt, if the queen has accepted her? He's saying that's not a legal reason to an annulment. But in truth he's saying that's not a reason to want one either. He's giving her an excuse to be together. Like he did before. But he's saying we can be happy now. We're free to be together without the anxiety, the fears, and the sorrows.

And then she says this. The 'many who will not soon forget '. And yes, she's talking about possible risks and vengeance after the truth coming out for her. But, we know the queen will always protect her. But she's not talking about others, she's talking about him. He's who is not forgetting her. Whistledown is still between them. She's making them apart because he can't forget.

And he sees it there. So, then he opens himself to explain he doesn't care anymore. That he know she's Whistledown and that her wasn't never there to make them apart. She was there to make them close, stronger, not only to herself to be brave, to make the bond between them being more deep, and know each other better. The truth self, like in a mirror.

[normanssurvivalsite]

Ace

(Alastor x male reader)

Explain to Alastor what Ace means

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/N)?" Called out Alastor to you

"Yes?" You answered not looking up from what you were reading.

"Would you like to go, get some coffee with me, in, what your generation calls, a date?"

Now to this you looked up.

"What?" You answered very confused

"In a...romantic way?" He tried explaining it to you thinking thats the part you didn't understand.

"I mean...I would love to but you dont have to push yourself if it would make you feel uncomfortable" you answered while you put your book down slowly on the coffee table.

"Uncomfortable? Why would it make me uncomfortable we are close are we not?"

Now he got confused as well.

"Well because...your ace and/or aro?"

"What is with that word, Rosie said it as well and the meaning of it still avoids me" he answered starting to get annoyed by his lack of understanding.

"What- ohhhh what did you say when did you die?"

"1933, however its quite rude to ask someone that." He answered looking at you in a scolding way.

"I'm sorry but because you lived back than thats why you don't know that word, please sit let me explain"

He sat down on the couch in front of you.

"Ok, so when we say 'ace' we refer to someone who has little to no sexual attraction and aromantic or aro is someone who has little to no romantic attraction. Of course there is much more to this subject but this kind of sums it up."

Alastor just stared at you.

Him? Not being interested in romantic relationships or sex??

Thats...true. He never felt the need to sleep with anyone he was doing totally fine without it. Romance...was another category completely however, and he didn't know if it was something he was interested in it or not.

He asked you out in the first place because he felt very good in your presence. He felt comfortable and content. Was that not romance?

"Alastor?" He has been staring at you for a while and it was quite creepy.

"Listen I understand thats a lot of information to process especially if you just realized some things about yourself so I can leave if you like-"

"No" Answered Alastor a bit fast. He has made up his mind. He might not be interested in a sexual relationship however he really wanted to kiss you right now.

"It might be true that I have not known this so far in my life or death, and you did make me realize some things about myself, but even so my offer still stands."

"Oh? Are you sure because I only want to if it doesn't make you uncom-"

You couldn't get the rest of your sentence out due to a pair of lips on yours.

Alastor kissed you.

You were stunned for a second but after you realized what was happening you kissed back immediately.

His lips were surprisingly soft, not to mention he did pretty good looking at the fact that it was his first kiss.

"Trust me, dear, If something would make me uncomfortable I wouldn't do it." He said grinning and holding your chin after you two parted.

You were a blushing mess.

You've never thought about Alastor that way, since you thought he was aromantic. But now that you did, fucking god, you like him.

Whit that thought in mind you kissed him again.

This time you stood up and he put his hands on your waist while yours were on his neck.

It wasn't a heated kiss and it will never be very likely you didn't want to step over his boundaries.

"...So my dear, would you like to get that coffee now?" He asked smiling while offering you his arm.

"I would love to" you smiled back at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guys I have a serious problem Im literally shitting words I have never written this many fanfics in one go🥹

BUT YK WHAT WORTH IT CUZ I LOVE EM

I literally love almost all characters in hazbin hotel so much I JUST CANNOT STOP💀

Thank you sm for the correction @whyarewehere103 😎🙏🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies,gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡