#i'm not in love with it but i like to think it's cool so

[fakecrfan]

I know most people on here don't like to go to the gym because you're all gay nerds. I like to go to the gym. For the purpose of understanding this post please try to imagine that you, too, enjoy going to the gym so that you can empathize with my point here.

Anyway, so imagine you are going to the gym. You're pumped about the concept of getting some muscle on you. Plus, the gym has this "lift weights every day!" challenge with a feasible plan to slowly and safely increase the amount of weight you can lift by the end of the month. Cool!

So anyway you go there, and you're having a good time. But then you notice something. Some people are coming in with these guys in shirts that say LIFT FOR HIRE. You're curious, and you notice over time that some people are actually paying these guys to come in and do the lifting challenge for them.

"Huh," you say to your mega hot, muscled gym buddy. "That's so weird. What's in it for the people paying these guys?"

"Dunno," says your friend, mid bicep curl.

"Um, actually!" says the gym owner. "Some people are disabled, so the only way they can lift weights it to pay LIFT FOR HIRE, inc."

"But wait," you say. "They still aren't lifting the weights though? Paying someone else to lift for you doesn't mean you've lifted the weights."

The gym owner gasps. "How could you SAY that?"

"Because... it's true?" you say. "Uh, if you pay guys to lift your weights, that's probably really good for the guys you are paying. But it's not going to develop your ability to lift at all. Your muscles aren't going to grow, you're just going to lose money and get no results."

"That's ABLEIST," they say. "How DARE you! Some people are LITERALLY paralyzed, did you think of that?"

"Well, yeah, some people are, and that means definitionally they can't lift weights," you explain. "And paying someone else doesn't change that. Maybe if they wanted to like, move something in their house it would make total sense to hire these guys! But if you hire them to do your workout you get nothing, because the purpose of a workout is personal development. I'm not morally condemning people who do it, but it seems like a waste of money when this event is, again, about improving one's personal abilities."

"This is absolutely DISGUSTING, CLASSIST rhetoric!" the gym owner roars, and then turns to one of the LIFT FOR HIRE guys, "Pay no attention this disgusting person, dear sponsor, we support your business and we totally want you to keep funding our gym!"

"Sponsor?" says your hot muscled friend who was way too busy actually doing their workout and getting gains to engage in dumb discourse. "Oh, now it makes sense."

"Shut up, you don't understand our love!" says the gym owner, before sloppily making out with a LIFT FOR HIRE guy in front of you.

Anyway, that's what learning about the whole AI nanowrimo controversy was like for me.

[pickingupmymercedes]

A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton

Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

_______________________________________

The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.

Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.

The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.

He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.

“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”

Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.

The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”

Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.

His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”

Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”

The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.

There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.

The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”

His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”

As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.

They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.

The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.

Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.

The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.

“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”

Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”

She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”

Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.

“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”

Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.

“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”

Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.

Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”

For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.

“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”

Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.

She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”

Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.

The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.

“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”

Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”

He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”

The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.

“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.

“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”

“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”

She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.

“Have I ever made you jealous?”

Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”

His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”

Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.

For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”

Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.

“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”

“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.

Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.

“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”

This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”

Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”

For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.

She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”

The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.

“What’s something you wish you did more often?”

Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”

She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”

Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.

“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”

She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”

The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”

“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”

Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”

“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”

Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”

“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”

She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”

Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

“When did you first know that you were in love?”

This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”

She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”

Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.

“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”

Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”

She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”

“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”

“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”

“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”

“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.

“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”

Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”

“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”

For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.

She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”

Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.

The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.

“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”

Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.

Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”

“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”

The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”

His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”

The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”

“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.

Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”

The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”

Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”

And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.

The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.

Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”

She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”

He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.

She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”

She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”

She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”

Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.

Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.

For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.

“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”

“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”

She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”

Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”

She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”

“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”

______________________________________________________________

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[mattslolita]

꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons ( 2 ) !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

꒰ SFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ offer to take bambi home on the first night they ever met — you're skeptical though, because you still live with your parents, and chris wasn't exactly well . . . the type you bring home to mom and dad.

"aw c'mon, can't drop ya off at home? why's that?"

"um...i'm not sure how my parents are gonna react cause y'know...just park down the street!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ sneak through your window all the time, mostly at night after he's gone a deal and wants to just chill with you.

"chris! can you at least text me to let me know you're coming?!"

"s'cute seein' you all scared when i come up, though."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ call you bambi alot when you first start talking, because he enjoys seeing how easily flustered you get from the nickname. he loves the way you clench your thighs and look away with a shy smile.

"hey bambi, don't get all shy on me, sweetheart."

"sorry..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ get scared and confused when bambi randomly begins to cry or tear up — he's not used to you showing so much emotion all the time, so he's actively always wondering if he's done something wrong and figuring out a way to calm you down.

"fuck, why are you cryin'? did i say somethin' wrong? did i do somethin'? talk to me, kid."

"it's just the picture of you and matt...you guys looked so cute when you were younger!"

"for fucks sake, bambi..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ immediately make it known that he's not all for putting labels on anything — you're a little intimidated by him and what he does anyone, so you're thankful for it at first.

"i know we're like fuckin' and whatnot but...y'know i'm not ready to uh, call you my girlfriend or anythin' like that..."

"no i understand! it's cool..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be very hesitant to take bambi on deals with him — he doesn't want to risk your safety, especially this early into you guys'. . .situationship ( ? )

"please, chris? i swear i can help! i'll get whatever bag you need me to get, while you count the money-"

"kid, you don't even know what half this shit is."

"i wanna go with you, now!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ buy bambi small gifts to start off, because he's not exactly sure about what kind of things you like yet.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ ask matt small details about bambi so he could get a feel of how to act around you and what things he should start doing for you — matt knew immediately he was already becoming down bad for you.

"so like uh, what kind of shit is bambi into, bro? like, does she fuck with movies and shit, or what?"

"don't you think that's the kind of thing you should be askin' her yourself?"

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ never do anything bambi would be uncomfortable with doing — believe it or not, you were a virgin when you met him.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ in the beginning, bambi was only comfortable with doing over the clothes things — he'd let you grind on his thigh until you came,

"s'good baby, all fucked out on my thigh...come on angel, cum for me..."

✦ or he would use your vibrator on you, watching you squirm around in his lap when he turned it up and watched your toes curl at the sensation.

"oh fuck chris, please..."

"doin' so good mama, that feel good, huh?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ take it easy with bambi once you tell him you want to try oral sex with him now — which leads to the very first time he's ever eaten you out, at a frat party upstairs,

"wan' hear all those pretty noises when i eat it, hear me?"

✦ and the first time you ever gave him head, whilst your parents were asleep and he came to spend the night at your house.

"f-fuck, jus' like that pretty girl, takin' my cock so well..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be gentle with bambi when you decide you want your first time to be with him — he's constantly reassuring you, and he decides to ease you into it with missionary because you deserved something intimate and special.

( it was also the first time chris realized he might be in love with you. )

( lilly's corner 💌 )

dealer!chris & bambi!reader are literally the cutest things ever when they first met, since technically they were still teenagers😕😕. i hope you guys enjoyed these! send in some prompts in my inbox for early dealer!chris & bambi!reader! love you all so much. 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

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@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous

[martian-astro]

D9/ Navamsa chart observations - Part 6

Moon in 10th gives you a sassy (in a good way) father in law. Also, your spouse can be the best in their field. After marriage, you can be closer to your partner's family than your own. If you don't have a good relationship with your parents, then your partner's family will fill that void. (I know a gay guy with this placement and his husband was disowned by his family when he came out but my friend's family treat him as their own son. They have a really sweet relationship. I love this placement)

Rahu will either take away everything or give the best results related to the things of the house it's in. It really depends on it's dispositor. For ex- if rahu is in 5th, it can either give you a partner who is intelligent, creative, energetic, has a lot of hobbies, or it can give you a partner who drinks a lot, parties a lot, sleeps around, etc. it can also either give you a lot of kids or none at all.

Mercury in 9th gives you an intelligent spouse, they can also be a multilingual person. If you're a woman then your partner can have a little, teeny tiny tendency to mansplain, it's honestly like, they're so proud of their knowledge that they just wanna show how much they know, it can be a little annoying sometimes but nothing too serious. (I know a guy with this and his wife is so cute, she looks like a child every time she talks about her interests, you can tell how much she enjoys sharing her experiences and knowledge, it's kinda cute actually)

Venus in 7th is that placement that completely changes you after marriage, especially your fashion sense. it's because it aspects your 1st house, so definitely a huge change in personality, you can also get a glow up after marriage. Also, it can give a rich partner, kinda like a crazy rich Asians type situation. (I know a girl with this placement and she was so innocent before marriage, she wouldn't even wear revealing clothes and stuff but then after marriage, her mother in law basically threw out all her old clothes and got her new ones, I met her recently and BRO, she looked so different, so beautiful and she was wearing clothes that actually suit her body type and skin color. Also her mother in law is COOL AS FUCK, every time I look at her, I'm like, yeah, this is who I aspire to be like in the future) last point, you'll have a very loving marriage

Jupiter in 2nd is THAT placement. so many celebrities who are married to rich business men have this. I feel like this is one of the placements that just makes you very materialistic, like money is very important for you all, so you should marry someone who is just as materialistic. (I know people with this placement who don't get lonely or offended even when their spouses are workaholics, both you and your spouse think that money should take priority over any other matter) I'll be honest, your married life can be a little dry, but not if Jupiter is in a good sign

Sun in 9th is OFC another good placement. I haven't really seen this mentioned anywhere but this is like THE foreign spouse placement. all the people I know who have this, married someone who was not from their country. You'll also travel a lot after marriage. It gives you a really charming partner, like they can charm the pants off you. Also, the sexual tension is HIGH, Especially if sun is in Aries. There's also a high chance that you're an introvert but your spouse is not, so they can help you get out of your comfort zone

Saturn in 3rd can be such a calm and mature placement, it's like, you know how many men don't talk about the problems they face in a relationship, and then they start acting shitty and wait for the woman to break up. With this placement you get a responsible partner, someone who is willing to talk and meet halfway but you have got to match their energy yk. if you have a weak Mercury in d1, then this placement is not nice, cuz your communication skills are shit and they are TOO mature, so the moment you play games with them, they'll leave you. So work on yourself, is what I would say.

For ketu also, if the dispositor is well placed then you achieve balance in that area, but if not, then you feel detached. ( I know 2 people with ketu in 7th, one is so against marriage and she has extremely high standards, which tbh, are not even practical but the other one has high achievable standards. The funny thing is that the first one has always dated guys who were not good to her and the other has had zero dating experience cuz she's waiting for the right guy. So the detachment sometimes refers to "wrong attachment".

You all are not gonna like this but Jupiter in 7th is one of the STRONGEST indicators of getting married a lot of times. Jupiter in 1st as well, it's not that strong but chances are high. (Halley berrey, Jennifer Lopez, angelina jolie and Scarlett Johansson have it)

To end it on a good note, if you have mars in 5th, just know I'm jealous of you, cuz if there's one thing that you're not gonna lack in your marriage, it's sex. You guys will be those parents who kiss each other even you've been married for 35 years, you do that and then your kids go "ewww, you guys are so cringy" and run away. (Just make sure that mars is not conjunct or aspected by Saturn or rahu, Saturn gives no sex, rahu gives painful sex)

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[sunnymainecoonx]

And errr whatever this guy is

[sceletaflores]

any nasty down bad breeding kink art musings love of my life?

viciously yanked me out of my mini challengers rut with this one because yes. yes i do have some thoughts on that.

for some reason the first thing that came to mind was virgin!art....in a universe where he somehow didn't get laid before stanford lol

like auurgggghhh virgin!art and his deep seated breeding kink. it's literally ingrained in him even before he has sex for the first time.

you're his first real girlfriend, met when you needed a tutor in accounting and art's professor suggested him.

the two of you have been dating for two months and he already knows that he loves you despite what patrick says about "playing the field a little man, you're not married to the chick."

but the thing is that art would marry you. he'd up and marry you tomorrow if that's what you wanted. he doesn’t care how crazy it sounds.

he loves you and he wants you to be his first.

maybe he wasn't entirely expecting it when you laid on your back on the mattress of his dorm, peering up at him through your lashes as you announced that you were "ready to take our relationship to the next level..."

he was hard before you finished talking.

art could barely think straight, his body reacting faster than his mind. he swallowed hard, trying to steady his hands, which had started trembling the moment you laid back on the navy blue comforter of his bed.

“are you...are you sure?" his voice came out more breathless than he intended, his brain scrambling to keep up despite all the blood rushing to his dick.

your gentle nod, paired with a soft smile that made his heart stutter in his chest was all it took for him to lose any lingering doubts.

he crawled up the mattress, leaning down to kiss you with more tenderness than urgency, his heart thudding against his ribcage like it was trying to escape his chest.

he fumbled his way through fingering you, his hands shaking with nerves even though you've done this part countless times.

it wasn't until the two of you shed all clothes, art settling himself between your legs before you were speaking, thighs twitching to close around his hips.

"you'll have to pull out, i'm off the pill."

fuck.

art's heard of that before, pulling out. usually the punchline of some jokes the guys like to tell in the locker room, or from patrick recapping his own hook-up stories.

the dirtiness of it makes his cheeks burn, and he hopes to god you can't see the embarrassing red blush he knows is there.

he takes a deep breath, steeling his resolve as he presses the leaking head of his dick to your slick hole.

"okay." his voice sounded pained, his hold on your hip probably a little too tight as he held his throbbing dick steady and nudged his hips forward until just the tip slipped inside your fluttering hole.

"oh fuck."

art’s brain short-circuits for a moment, his entire body freezing as the tight heat of you grips the head of his dick. he sucks in a shaky breath, trying to keep his cool, but every nerve in his body is screaming at him to move, to take more. to bury himself so deep he wouldn’t know where he ends and you begin.

he lets out a low groan, fingers digging into your skin, knuckles turning white with it. he wasn’t prepared for how overwhelming it would feel, like his entire life had been leading up to this exact moment.

"jesus...you're so—" he can’t even finish the sentence, his voice breaking.

"art," your hips shift beneath him, making him jolt forward, sinking just a little deeper inside you. his mind goes blank, a vast space of nothingness but the tight heat wrapped around his dick.

there's only you, your soft skin, your quiet gasps, the feeling of being wrapped in the most sinful warmth.

for a while art gets lost in the feeling. in the way you pant into his open mouth, to overwhelmed to kiss him properly. in the way your hands grip his shoulders harder with every inch he gives you. in the way you pussy shakes around him like it can hardly wait any longer.

but soon enough, art knows he's getting close, that he probably needs to pull out soon. but you're just so soft and you smell so good and your pussy is sucking his dick in so wet and warm like it never wants him to leave again.

"i can't," he grits out against your collarbone, shaking his head frantically. "i can't do it."

"don't stop," you whine, manicured nails digging into the toned muscle of his shoulders, "don't stop, baby. fuck, give it to me harder, harder please-ah!"

art screws his eyes shut as tightly as he can, brows pinched together as he presses his forehead against the sweaty skin of your shoulder. to ground himself. his hips speed up to punch out more high whines of his name from your slick lips.

there's an odd feeling working it's way through his body as he ponders his options, a wrongness flashing in the back of his mind each time he reminds himself of pulling out to spill over your stomach.

despite the fact that he's never done this before, his gut tells him no.

you deserve his come inside you, painted along your insides as he claims you for the first time.

"i can't pull out," he whines through clenched teeth, big hands tightening their hold on your waist. his voice is pinched and high in a way it's never been before, desperation leaking through his tone.

your lips fall open on a gasp, your head shaking back and forth dazedly, but he feels the way you clench around him. the way your pussy tightens up like it's trying to milk the load directly out of his aching balls.

"fuck! please don't make me baby," he begs, self restraint snapping in two as he buries his face in your neck. "lemme come in you, it'll be okay. we'll be fine, nothing gonna happen if it's only this once."

"no..." you moan, "art don't, gotta pull out..." but your hips start rising of the bed to meet his thrusts, the dirty smack of skin on skin filling his tiny single. you're dripping around him, coating his dick with a slick layer of shiny wetness.

"i can't," art repeats breathlessly, dick twitching inside you warningly.

"i need it…need you, need to come in you so fucking bad," his voice is strained and cracking, hips trembling with the effort, but you’re so tight around him, every squeeze pulling him deeper.

it's too much and not enough all at once—the heat, the wetness, the overwhelming need. it has pure kerosene burning in his veins.

"art," your legs stay wrapped snug around his hips, ankles locked over his lower back. "m'close, gonna come, fuck! i'm coming—!"

so is art. the added squeeze of you're pussy coming around shattering the last of his resolve and sending him careening him over the edge.

"fuck," your name falls from his lips in a tight groan as he unloads inside of you. flooding your pussy with warm come as his hips keep up the punishing pace he set.

art doesn't stop thrusting even as he comes so hard his vision whites out. he can't stop, like you've got some sort of magnetic field that keeps pulling him in over and over and over.

your too-loud moans and cries dissolving into sharp keens and gasps as he fucks you into over-stimulation, his hips pumping in in in as the image of his come getting fucked deeper and deeper inside of you plays on a loop in his mind.

when his arms finally give out and he collapses on top of you in a sweaty heap of limbs, your arms immediately come up to wrap around his shoulders. a pleased hum rumbling through your chest as you scratch your nails along his scalp soothingly, smug smile hidden in the sweaty halo of his hair.

art's out like a light in five minutes, falls asleep right there with his head resting on your bare-chest and his dick kept safe inside you.

patrick buys a plan-b for art the next morning when he's too nervous to face the cashier at walgreens.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! Congrats on 7K, and happy late birthday!

I would love to req an apple pie with Spencer (the way you write him is soooOOO cute) and ²⁸⁾ dark lipstick smeared on a cheek, possibly also along with ¹⁴⁾ laddered tights if it makes sense to you, but just the first one is ofc totally cool <3

Thank you for all the fics, the way you write is so so gorgeous and gives me a lot of comfort

Thank you angel!! I'm glad to have you here :)

cw: mention (implied mention?) of alcohol

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 578 words

Spencer finds you on the floor below his. You’re standing dejectedly outside a closed door with your arms folded across your chest. 

“Hi,” he says. 

You turn, your mouth falling open in surprise and glee. “Spence!” You start walking to meet him. “I was just talking to you on the phone!” 

“I know you were.” He accepts the hug you offer him. You smell like the lotion you use before going out, and it overpowers the smell of bar. “You were upset I wasn’t coming to the door.” 

“Yeah, because you weren’t.” You seem to remember your upset now, pulling away so you can frown at him. 

Spencer tucks away his smile. “I don’t live here, honey. I’m one floor up.” 

Your gaze moves away from his face, your brows furrowing. “Oh.” 

“But I can take you back there now,” he offers. 

Any trace of a frown vanishes. You’re simpering up at him. “Spencer Reid,” you say in a voice like honey, “you wanna take me back to your place?” 

“I—uh, isn’t that why you came here?” 

“No, it is.” You bite your lip, trying and failing to tamp down your grin. “It just sounds extra fun when you say it.” 

“If you say so.” Spencer laughs, and it comes out sounding more awkward than he would’ve liked. 

Your smile softens. You put your hand in his, letting him lead you back to the elevator. Your touch feels warm and sure. 

“Did you have a good time out?” he asks, pressing the button for his floor with a knuckle and then using his thumb to wipe at a bit of lipstick that’s smeared onto your cheek. Clearly at some point during your night out you’d forgotten you were wearing makeup. There’s also a long tear stretching up from the knee of your tights. 

“Yeah,” you reply, your cheek dimpling under his touch. Spencer lowers his hand, and you watch it go. “I missed you, though.” 

“I’m glad you came over. Did someone give you a ride here?” 

“No, I walked.” You’re still watching his hand. Spencer thinks about putting it back on your face, even though he has no excuse to anymore. Maybe you need two points of contact. 

“I would have come and gotten you,” he says. 

“I like walking. The air felt nice. It’s getting cooler out at night.” 

“Yeah, it is nice.” You’re close enough that he can reach down and lightly graze your laddered tights with his fingers. It’s a chaste tough, just above your knee, but still you shiver as if the chill outside has followed you in. 

The elevator dings. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you say as he lets you into his apartment. He didn’t lock the door for the short trip downstairs, though he knows several members of his team would have something to say about it if they knew. “Maybe tomorrow we can go for coffee or something. Let me get you a hot drink to celebrate the cool weather, and to say thank you.” 

“You can stay here anytime,” Spencer says, just to know that you’ve heard him say it. It’s not the first time he has. He watches you go straight for the bedroom, for the drawer in his closet where your pajamas are kept. “But coffee would be good, yeah, if—if you still want to tomorrow.” 

You laugh, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Of course I’ll still want to. I always want to.”

[hnbka]

shows don't have to be marketed as queer. in fact, please surprise me

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Is it just me, or is the way WoF presents disability... actually not that bad? Don't get me wrong, it is FAR from perfect, and I would love to see better representation as the series continues! However, I'll make my case:

I think the thing people criticize the most is when Turtle mentions that he and Anemone were working on a spell to restore Starflight and Tamarin's sight. This is definitely alarming; it plays into the tired idea of disabled people needing to be "fixed." But I think people forget that Turtle and Anemone are two young children with a limited view on the world. Their mother is extremely judgemental and believes in genetic superiority 😭 They might not understand that there is nothing wrong with being disabled, and that you can happily live with a disability. We also don't know if Tamarin or Starflight even consented to the spell, so it may have never been realized anyways. I would like to see Tui properly address this in future books, though. (And if it wasn't clear, I'm not justifying Turtle and Anemone's actions; just saying that there's context here that most people don't consider).

I'm also aware that the series villainizes some of its disabled characters (Queen Scarlet, Chameleon, Queen Battlewinner, etc.) Disabled people have a long history of being villainized, so it is understandable to feel uncomfortable about this! But it's not like WoF lacks ANY positive representation. Tau, Clay, Tamarin, and Starflight are all characters who I think are really cool!! And I like Mayfly and Osprey too (even though they're minor characters). I think even Peril could count...? And a lot of her character arc is about learning to live with her firescales.

And yes, there's stuff like The Weirdling Tower... but that is EXPLICITLY treated as a bad and gross thing, so I don't get why some people use that as proof that Tui hates disabled people. Same goes for ableist characters like Burn and Scarlet (who are also EXPLICITLY presented as horrible and evil).

My biggest criticism for the way Tui writes disability is that most of her disabled characters that are considered positive representation don't play a huge role in the books. We have Starflight and Clay, but when they get their disabilities, the arc that focuses on them is close to over. It would be nice to see more disabled characters that are more involved in the story.

.

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 19: Lil' Beethoven (Ride 'Em Cowboy)

First of all, let this very important fact be known: the love I have for all three albums in the Lil' Beethoven trilogy cannot be overstated. I think I can safely call them my favourite pieces of art ever made. You know, when you look forward to something and it not only lives up to all your expectations but it's also just SO SO much more? Something about this neoclassical / dada / deconstruction of pop music / whatever-you-should-even-call-it approach is absolutely PERFECTLY suited for my tastes, and I didn't even know I was looking for something EXACTLY like this until I found it.

I think the circumstances of my first hearing of this album are pretty funny and something I got pretty lucky with actually (I often think about this with Sparks in general, as much as I wish I've known about them sooner I also do feel like they appeared in my life when I needed that the most. But anyway.) I was very eagerly looking forward to hearing it and finally seeing for myself what the genius of this album is all about. But I insisted that I can only do it through a physical format because yesss, let's make it even more *special*! The moment I've been waiting for! So yeah let's gooo, I need to wait until my CD arrives in the mail (that was one of the longest weeks of my life). And then I started to wonder, well, maybe I actually won't like it that much. To hype myself up to this extent and then be severly dissapointed - would have sucked!

Well, I was NOT dissapointed. Instead I was perplexed, confused, but also very intrigued and quite, ok not just quite, *completely* amazed already. That was the initial reaction and I think it's a rare but very beautiful moment when this happens - no need to *fully* grasp it right away, but enough to be all like "oh that was SOMETHING. I need more." As I said after that first listen (and I actually have my whole LIVE reaction to hearing LB written down lmao, that's how much of a big deal this was for me), I felt like it actually has to grow on me a bit still, gradually but surely with each next listen, rather than the 1st listen being THE prime listening experience. And that was very true! But it wasn't even gradual, it was very fast, seriously. And something very important that stood out to me right away too were the melodies - something about them, and that continues into HYL and ECOTD too. It's this classic feeling of: this always existed, or at least it feels like I've known it for years already. And as I listen more and become more familiar with them the magic still grows.

It's of course no coincidence to me that an album that relies so much on extreme levels of repetition is so addicting, even hypnotising. And once upon a time I thought that I couldn't like something that's too repetitive and therefore could be considered monotonous or "predictable". But nothing is predictable about LB actually. (Besides... ok, I'll get to that one bit later). But yeah, it's good for the brain. And it's been said before by others but this music definitely has this certain neurodivergent appeal thanks to all this, and, well, I love that aspect of it so much and I definitely relate to it on some level that goes even deeper than just song topics and instrumentation choices. It's in the structure and the fundaments of it all too.

I legally can't finish this without a dedicated paragraph to the 2004 Live In Stockholm performance because HOLY SHIT. Feeling so lucky again that all three of these albums got this treatment and we have recordings of these half-concert-half-performance-art pieces that we can now marvel at. I will say that like, a pretty big part of the sum of the appeal that LB has as an album is stored in this show and its visual and narrative elaboration on its themes. And also it's just so fun to watch! Sometimes I thought about how this might be an even better introduction to LB / this era of Sparks / Sparks in general than the actual album but well, never had a chance to test that and you know. Maybe shouldn't recommend Sparks with one of the most leftfield things there is to be found from them. Either way, very good, very important, felt like experiencing the power of LB for the first time all over again.

So now, please hear my exact reasonings for why I so deeply love (almost) every single one of these songs......

The Rhythm Thief

NO song made such a big impression on me the first time I heard it as this. I might have gotten more used to it after all this time but man, The Rhythm Thief, you will always be the realest one to me. This is what made me look forward to the whole album so much and convinced me that it would be like nothing else I've heard before. And that turned out to be so very beautifully true!

How Do I Get To Carnegie Hall?

I could listen to this one a hundred times in a row over and over and not get sick of it one bit. That's it, idk what else to add, beautiful and ethereal in every way

What Are All These Bands So Angry About?

Mostly I just want to direct everyone's attention to the bridge section, at the 2:26-2:52 time mark, which as far as I can say is the most heavenly piece of music ever made. Feeling like that Winnie The Pooh soul leaving his body gif each time I hear this

I Married Myself

Aromantic anthem, to me. Not that much to say actually but it's just, a very sweet and pretty song even when it might be taken as just this sort of ironic piece, I think it's this situation where a song can be taken more or less literally and it doesn't lose anything, rather the sincerity takes on a new sort of meaning? Because yes, maybe this hyperbolic situation (marrying yourself) COULD be the solution to the heartbreak of failed relationships. Ever thought about that??? Ok, stopping right here and leaving my I Married Myself analysis for another day

Ride 'Em Cowboy

My mind is blank on this one suddenly. But it's so good believe me. I love it a lot. It just has this LB spirit that makes it very addicting to listen to

My Baby's Taking Me Home

This was sort of the first Sparks song I've ever heard, or maybe that I quote-unquote purposefully listened to, and I think that's pretty important considering that it was the moment that ultimately lead to... all this. This song has always been incredibly beautiful and powerful to me, but lately it just makes me emotional to an extent that makes it hard to listen to most of the time. I WOULD sell all my material possessions for even one chance to experience this song live by the way

Your Call Is Very Important To Us. Please Hold

Earns soooo much as a live version, but even without that I think it's genius in the same way as The Rhythm Thief, and maybe the most disquieting piece here overall... If we ignore the next one maybe

Ugly Guys With Beautiful Girls

Sitting there hearing the intro of this song all like "huh, this is so chill and calm... too calm..." and then being hit with, well, everything that's going on in this song afterwards was truly THE MOMENT back in the day (and re: the predictability thing. idk though, it's not like, really an issue). Later on I decided that this sort of narrative nature of the song makes it have less replayability value than the rest (???) but I abandoned that opinion soon enough, thank god. I love it how long it took me to realize that this song and the ending of MBTMH are the only times when drums appear on this entire album (I mean no, I'm not very proud of that fact actually, as the self-proclaimed biggest LB fan in my area. And The Rhythm Thief literally saying "say goodbye to the beat"... come on man). So yes, sometimes less is more! I adore this song now it's such a treat I would gladly terrorize my neighbours with it

Suburban Homeboy

Ok, I'm sorry Suburban Homeboy fans but this is the only song here that I'm not a HUGE fan of. I still think it's brilliant and an incredibly fitting ending for the whole thing - the mood whiplash is amazing as this is the only "vaguely happy sounding" song on here, per my words from months back. And what's better than yelling WE ARE THE SUBURBAN HOMEBOYS! (I'm actually awaiting today's Sparks karaoke rating reveal very impatiently lol the reveal happened before I posted this and I'm very happy about it)

One more actually, a quick word on Wunderbar because it gave us two things that we might have not been able to do without: 1) this whole album actually (the fact that LB exists because of Wunderbar giving the Maels the idea to continue meddling with this style. Up there as one of my fav pieces of Sparks trivia) 2) anddddd the 21×21 performance of it of course

[originalwinnerfanfish]

And here is the last part

Predaking - Oh, my fiery boy! I have so much to say about him…

He was probably the main reason I got into the Transformers fandom when I was a kid. My thoughts were like: It's a dragon! And a robot at the same time!? And he turns into a hot looking man!?! *mind blown*

Of course, over time I realized that behind the beautiful cover, he was a rather naive and very foolish character with a storyline too much like Dreadwing's. But despite all this, I still love him. Predaking is a real gem of the third season, and perhaps the coolest character in the entire series, and you can’t deny it!

In the WOF version, he is a resurrected dragon from the extinct skywing tribe. Being the largest dragons in this AU, their tribe was the most powerful on the continent until it completely died out due to a wave of cataclysms.

So, Predaking is a real giant compared to other characters. And, in the final addition, he is firescales! Because it’s BADASS!🔥

(and actually, because he gives me pretty strong Peril vibes)

Unfortunately I couldn't give him a bright color, so his firescales nature is shown through glowing areas on his body, creating the effect that he is literally burning from the inside. I also just noticed that his face looks very much like a skull, and I tried to pay attention to this in the design by giving him dark spots around the eye sockets and nostrils

Hardshell - I don’t wanna draw some random insecticon, so I chose this guy. Here I will be short. He’s appears in only two episodes and died almost immediately. He’s more of a plot tool than a real character

His stripes look cool, but drawing them wasn’t easy at all (I hate floating shapes). I wanted to make him look more like his beetle form, adding a big front horn and green plates on his neck. I also think that insecticons should be more different in coloring in this version

Skyquake - Same story - appeared in one episode - died in the same episode. Most of the fandom remembers him only as a zombie from the shadow dimension, and it's kind of sad. I believe he had potential. I always imagined Skyquake as the "brawn" in a duet with his brother, while Dreadwing was more of the "brain". And it would be great if we were shown this contrast, giving Skyquake a chance to prove himself in at least a couple of episodes

His design is, as expected, almost the same as his brother, but I still decided to add some small differences in details to make it more interesting

Vehicons - STEEEEEEVES!

I like these silly dudes)

I didn't want to make them actual clones or something, so here they're just regular nightwings and icewings, but they may look the same because of the iron masks that hide their faces. Like many other dragons, they are victims of a war they may not have wanted to participate in. Actually, in that case their deaths don’t seems so meaningless and even give the autobots actions a darker subtext (although I believe in the theory that they could simply pretend to be dead on the battlefield (I really want to believe in that))

I know there are still a few possible undrawn characters left, like Skylynx and Darksteel or Unicron, but that's probably enough for me. I'm happy with my closed gestalt)

[ihopesocomic]

That "everything My Pride got wrong about lions" list you mentioned in one of previous asks? Would love to actually see that 👀

We don't have an exact "list" per se but here's the main things that spring to mind that are shown in MP that are factually incorrect:

Prides are led by a single male and no other male may have control of the pride: incorrect. Prides can and will consist of more than one male and males will sometimes team up to run out the resident male or males.

Lions can bite through a rival's mane: a lion's mane is like thick, fluffy armour that protects the throat and it absolutely cannot be penetrated in the manner like Quick did with Starmane. This is why lions actually opt to attack the face, the back, or the hips.

Lionesses do not defend their cubs from rogue males: lionesses absolutely do defend their cubs from males, including those that are related to them by blood, such as the father. They're very protective mothers. There's even reports of lionesses running their cubs away from the pride and hiding them so the rogue male cannot find them.

Lions are active during the day: lions are actually crepuscular and more active at dawn, dusk and at night for the African nights are cooler and present better hunting opportunities. They tend to rest during the day. I know there are instances where this isn't the case, but that just comes with being opportunistic hunters. They will also hunt during storms, uilitising the weather to their advantage. Hence why Travellers have names related to the weather. We just thought it was a cool fact.

Lions have slit pupils: lions, like all big cats, have round pupils. There are theories as to why this is, but at the end of the day, only domestic cats have slit pupils.

Male lions are called manes: Yes, we know that this is a xenofiction thing and MP has every right to adopt their own vocabulary, but people literally think that male lions in a pride are called "manes" and male lions not in a pride are called "no-manes". So apparently it needs to be said that male lions are simply called lions, and females are lionesses.

Tsavo lions are a subspecies of lions that do not develop full manes: So, this appears to be a misconception that some MP fans have walked away with and I just want to correct the record on this. Tsavo lions are not a subspecies of the African lion. They are named after the geographical location where maneless lions are more apparent, because geography and environment seems to have an effect on how a lion's mane forms. Lions are sensitive to heat, so the hotter a region is, the less likely a mane is to form. The Tsavo region is known to be hot and dry and this is why lions there have problems developing a full mane. Genetics is also theorised to play a role. Such a thing has also been observed in West African regions and Ancient Egyptian art has also depicted maneless lions. It's also worth noting that Asiatic lions also have smaller manes than their African counterparts due to Asia having a hotter climate. This is why some of our characters like Fade and Larkspur do not have full manes. Both of them have either been raised in a desert region or a region adjacent to a desert and the heat has affected them developing a full mane. So, Moonstrike being described as a Tsavo lion was completely pointless and confusing. I can only assume it was Tribble trying to flex her lion knowledge but she also didn't even bother to explore why exactly Tsavo has a connection to maneless lions, thus fans assuming that the lack of a mane is down to Moonstrike being part of some sort of subspecies. I'm probably missing some things out but this is what I have so far. - RJ

[redroomreflections]

Guide Me

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Gentle Hands One Shot

Summary: Natasha is going away on a mission and she wants R to think of her while she's away.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI

note: I wrote this entirely for myself. There's fluff in here too.

w/c: 3.6k

Natasha sat quietly on the couch, her eyes drawn to the scene unfolding in front of her. You were kneeling in front of her, your arms stretched out, your eyes and face reflecting the huge smile you had as you encouraged Brynn to walk.

"Come on, Bubs, come to me," You said. "Come to Mommy."

Brynn was clinging tightly to Natasha's knees, her own tiny, chubby legs wobbling. She gave a little squeal of excitement, almost as if to say "I'm nervous", her determination both endearing and fierce.

"Go to your Mommy," Natasha coaxed, "you can do it, kotik."

Brynn seemed to be encouraged by Natasha's voice, patting her leg before reaching out a hand towards you. Your excitement was palpable, Natasha could feel it radiating off of you, and she was sure Brynn could sense it, too.

"Yeah, that's it, Brynnie," You continued. "I'm right here. I'll catch you."

And then Brynn took her first, tiny, tentative step, the biggest smile on her face.

"Nat," You whispered, looking up at her. "She's walking."

Natasha laughed, her heart filling with happiness, the moment seemingly frozen in time. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, as Brynn navigated the cool hardwood floors. You were only a few feet away from her.

And then Brynn wobbled and fell forward into your arms. There was a moment of quiet cheering as you hugged her to you.

"Good job, baby," You praised. "Kaia, guess what? Your sister just walked to me." You informed your almost three-year-old of her baby sister's milestone.

Kaia giggled, clapping her hands together in delight. "Yay, Brynnie."

Natasha chuckled. Kaia was so like you in many ways. Almost a mini clone. Even down to the dance you two performed in celebration of Brynn's first steps. The baby giggled loudly as you twirled her, blowing raspberries on whatever body part of hers you could reach, as you danced around the living room.

"My turn," Natasha said. "I want to dance with my baby." She stood, holding out her arms in anticipation.

You carefully passed Brynn over, who clung to Natasha.

"Mama," She said.

"Hi, my love." Natasha smiled widely. "I'm so proud of you."

Brynn grinned, reaching for Natasha's hair, and tugging on it gently.

"Ouch, kotik, " Natasha laughed. "That hurts."

Brynn looked concerned, pulling back to look at Natasha.

"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart." Natasha smiled softly, bouncing the baby on her hip. "Just a little tug. But never mind that, you walked." She leaned in, giving Brynn a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek.

Brynn giggled, squirming in Natasha's arms, before laying her head on her shoulder.

"I think she's tired," You said as you scooped Kaia into your arms to twirl her around. "It is almost bedtime." Natasha's heart warmed at the sight. She couldn't believe you were the woman she had once only wanted to protect—a woman who had been through so much, who had needed space to heal. Back then, Natasha hadn't imagined your friendship could turn into anything more. She hadn't let herself imagine it. Sure, she'd found you beautiful—who wouldn't? There had always been a quiet strength in the way you carried yourself, even on the days when your world felt like it was crumbling around you.

But this? A life with you, with Brynn and Kaia? That had seemed like a dream she didn’t know she was allowed to have. And now, Natasha had it. She had all of you.

"You should get them ready for bed, Nat," You said, as Kaia wrapped her arms around your neck, clinging like she always did when bedtime rolled around.

"But, Mama, I want to play with Brynn," Kaia whined, her voice laced with the beginnings of a pout.

"I'm sorry, Solnyshko, but you need to sleep. Come on, kiss Mama goodnight," Natasha said, and Kaia sighed but pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to your cheek. "We'll play tomorrow. You have school, remember?"

"I hate school," Kaia grumbled.

"No, you don't," Natasha chuckled.

"Do so."

"Kaia," You warned, and Kaia stuck out her bottom lip.

"Fine," she grumbled, though there was a softness in her voice now. "But you have to promise two songs before bed." Her eyes gleamed as she stared over at Natasha, knowing exactly how to tug at her heartstrings.

Natasha feigned reluctance, though the smile on her face betrayed her. She held out her pinkie finger to Kaia. "I promise," she said, locking their pinkies together with a gentle squeeze.

"And you have to sing them, not play the music."

"Kaia," You sighed.

"Okay, fine." Natasha laughed.

"You're the best, Mama," Kaia cheered, stretching in your arms to kiss Natasha's cheek and then leaning over to give Brynn one, too.

"How sweet," You murmured, watching them with a smile. Kaia’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced with a satisfied grin as she slipped out of your arms and shuffled toward the bedroom. "I'll catch up on dishes while you handle these two." You offered.

"You've done enough already," Natasha insisted. "I can wash the dishes."

"It's alright, I'll get them," You replied, brushing off her protest. "Besides, I want us to have tonight together before bed."

"I'll put Brynn to bed, and then I'll meet you in the bedroom," Natasha decided, and you nodded, making your way into the kitchen. Natasha watched you go, unable to help the smile that came to her lips. God, she loved you.

By the time Natasha stepped out of Brynn’s nursery, the house was quiet—save for the soft clinking of dishes being washed in the kitchen. She had promised herself she would come to bed after putting the kids down, but when she saw you moving around the house, still tidying up, she paused in the hallway. You had already done so much—cleaning up the toys in the living room, starting another load of laundry, and now finishing up the dishes that she had insisted on taking care of herself.

Natasha leaned against the doorframe, watching you for a moment. There was something peaceful about the way you moved, even in the mundane tasks. She loved how you always wanted to keep the home you had together running smoothly, even when you were tired. But it also made her heart ache a little. You did so much, often more than you needed to, always giving, always caring.

Quietly, Natasha made her way over to you, her footsteps soft on the kitchen floor. You didn’t hear her at first, too focused on rinsing the last of the plates, but the warmth of her presence behind you made you pause.

"You’ve done enough for tonight," Natasha murmured, slipping her arms around your waist from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. "I thought we agreed we'd have time together."

"I was just cleaning up." You shrugged, letting the water from the faucet run over your hands for a moment. "You were busy with the kids. It's fine."

"It's not fine," Natasha said gently. "You do so much, and I appreciate everything, but I want you to relax."

"I'm used to taking care of things, Nat."

"I know," Natasha replied. "And I love that you are."

"I don't mind," You said, turning off the water and leaning back against her.

"But I do," Natasha replied. "Let me take care of you for once."

"Natasha," You sighed, but Natasha was already tugging you away from the sink. You turned into her arms, closing your eyes in pure delight when she kissed your lips. Her kiss was soft and slow, making your heart race. When you pulled away, your smile was wide, your cheeks a bit flushed, and Natasha thought you looked absolutely beautiful.

"I love you," She whispered, pulling you closer and brushing her nose against yours. "You mean so much to me. I wish I could show you how much."

"You do, Nat. More than you know." You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her again, a little harder this time, your teeth grazing her bottom lip. "Though I do love how affectionate you're being, why do I get the sense you're about to tell me bad news?"

"I don't think it's bad, necessarily." Natasha shrugged even as her hands continued to roam your waist. Lovingly, of course, no ulterior motives there. "It's just, I got an assignment."

"Oh," You said, your expression falling.

"I leave in two days," She explained.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Three weeks."

"And you won't tell me where?" You guessed.

"I can't," Natasha said. "It's a matter of national security."

"I understand." You nodded.

"But," Natasha added, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. "When I get back, I'm not leaving the country for a long time."

"Is that a promise?" You teased, even though your chest was heavy with worry.

"That's a promise," Natasha replied, leaning in to kiss you again.

"How are you going to break it to the girls?" You asked. "You know Kaia has hard drop-offs at school whenever you leave."

"I have some ideas," Natasha said, "I'll have Wanda and Pepper take turns visiting. They can keep Kaia and Brynn distracted."

"Okay," You replied.

"Hey," Natasha whispered, her eyes searching yours with that intensity she always had when she needed you to feel her presence, her sincerity. Her thumb gently stroked your cheek as she leaned in closer. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I hate leaving you and the girls. But I'll come back. Always."

You swallowed, your heart feeling heavier despite her soft reassurances. It wasn’t just about her leaving for the mission—it was the way Kaia would cry at drop-offs, the way Brynn would ask for “Mama” with big, confused eyes, not understanding why Natasha wasn’t there. And as much as you tried to be strong for them, there was always a part of you that felt empty when she was gone.

"I know you will," you whispered, forcing a small smile. "It's just... three weeks is a long time."

Natasha pressed her forehead against yours, before her lips brush your temple. "I’ll make it up to you," she murmured, her voice low, comforting. "To all of you. When I get back, it’s just us. I’ll take a break—no missions, no assignments. We'll do whatever you want. I’ll even take Kaia to her soccer shots classes every week."

You laughed softly at the last part, shaking your head. "She loves those."

"I know," Natasha smirked. "But she's getting a little better at kicking the ball, and I'd like to see it."

You could hear the truth in her voice, feel it in the way she held you like she never wanted to let go. But the reality of her job was always there, lurking in the background, pulling her away when you needed her most. Still, you nodded, trying to push the worry aside, even if only for tonight.

"Okay," you said softly, resting your head against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. "But you’re the one telling Kaia in the morning. I’m not dealing with that meltdown alone."

Natasha chuckled, holding you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Deal."

You held her tightly, breathing her in, committing this moment to memory, knowing that no matter how much she assured you that she'd be back, there would always be a part of you that was worried she wouldn't.

"I'm going to miss you," Natasha began, her voice soft and laced with sincerity. She kissed your lips again. An apology.

"I'm going to miss you too," you replied, your heart aching at the thought of her being away. "More than you know."

"I'll call every day," she promised, her hands tracking your back under your shirt. "Or as much as I can."

"I'd like that," you replied, kissing her once more.

"It'll go by fast," Natasha said. "Before you know it, I'll be back home with you, and we'll finally have a few weeks to ourselves."

"It's hard for me when you leave," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your side of the bed gets cold. I don't have anyone there to hold me. To kiss me." You're laying it on thick. "It's hard not having someone there to—"

"Stop it," Natasha said, and you smirked, pulling back slightly to look at her.

"Stop what?" You asked, playing innocent.

"You're not being very subtle. If you're trying to make me change my mind about leaving, it won't work. But the other part..." Natasha grinned. "You have ways to care for yourself while I'm gone."

"I know," you said, your tone softening, a smile creeping onto your lips. "but..."

"But what?" Natasha inquired. "Hmm?"

"I've never actually done that,"

"Wait. Really? You've never touched yourself before?"

You shook your head. "Never needed to."

"So you're telling me you're a virgin in that department." Natasha smiled. "This is news to me."

"Nat, don't tease." You pushed her away gently.

"Come here." Natasha pulled you back in. "I'll show you what to do," She promised. "I'll make sure you feel good. Better than good. Amazing. The best orgasm of your life."

"You make big promises," You raised a brow.

"You've had better?" She scoffed.

"No," You shook your head. "I've just never felt the need or the desire to do it."

"So you have no idea what to do?" Natasha questioned, and you nodded, a little shyly. "What is it, baby?" She asked, tipping your chin up gently, so you were looking into her eyes. "Don't be shy."

"I just—I've always been a little repressed with sex," You explained, avoiding her gaze. "I mean we've talked about it before. I'm a woman with two kids. I'm no virgin Mary. There's still so much I haven't explored and I can't help but think how inexperienced I am."

"Hey, look at me," Natasha said softly, cupping your cheek. "There's no rush to explore everything at once, but I'll be more than happy to guide you. In fact, I'm honored."

"You're sweet," You whispered, and Natasha smiled.

"Come on," She said, pulling you towards the bedroom. She closed the door behind th both of you and got to work setting up pillows and a small area in front of the six-foot mirror you'd insisted on having in here.

"Now, I'm not saying it's going to happen right away," Natasha began, pulling you into her arms and peppering kisses on your neck. "But if you'd like me to teach you the ropes, I'd be more than happy to."

"I'd say yes to anything you offer," You whispered to her as you sat in front of her. She instructed you to take your pants off while she did the busy work of unbuttoning your blouse.

"Are you comfortable?" She asked and you nodded, pulling her closer, craving her body heat and the comfort her touch offered.

"Tell me if you want to stop," Natasha began. She gently coaxed your legs open, admiring the wet spot already forming, as she leaned her head against yours. "You don't know how sexy you are like this."

"In a nursing bra and Wednesday panties even though it's Friday?" You joked.

"Especially in that," Natasha murmured. "You always look so good to me, baby." Natasha kissed your neck.

"Touch me," You whispered.

"We're getting there, beautiful," She promised, her hand sliding up and down your thigh. You sighed, closing your eyes. You knew Natasha would make you feel good, and would make this experience pleasurable and enjoyable. "But tonight you're doing all the work. Just follow my voice." She instructed as she trailed her hands along your body.

"Take off your panties," Natasha whispered, and you obeyed. Your hand hovered over the waistband of your panties, hesitating. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," You admitted, taking a deep breath.

"You're gorgeous, Y/n."

"You make me feel that way."

"Good. Because it's true." She replied, pulling her hands away. "Take your time."

You slowly slid the underwear down your legs, biting your lip nervously.

"I'll start, and then you can take over," Natasha said.

"What are you going to do?" You asked.

"You'll see." She replied. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," You said, nodding, feeling a rush of anticipation run through your body.

She began by stroking your belly, moving to cup your breasts and toy with your nipples.

"Do you like that?"

"Yeah," You nodded.

"How about this?" She murmured, her hands running over your hips. You moaned, arching into her touch.

"Mhmm," You cursed, feeling yourself get wetter.

"What else would you like me to do?"

"Just talk to me, please."

"Talk to you about what, baby?" She whispered, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"Anything. I just want to hear your voice," You whimpered.

"I can do that."

Natasha's hands trailed along your inner thighs, her fingertips teasing your folds."I want you to use your fingers, just one," She began. "Feel around for that spot that feels good."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling shy.

"It's okay," Natasha whispered. "I'm right here. Do whatever feels good, baby."

You slid your fingers down between your legs, tentatively over your slit, before you pressed it between your lips. You were familiar with your own anatomy enough to find your clit. Your eyes widened slightly at the pleasure, the intensity, as you rubbed it gently.

You bit your lip, closing your eyes at the immediate pleasure, as you leaned your head back against her shoulder. Having her there as a source of support felt even better.

"Open your eyes, baby," Natasha instructed. "Look in the mirror."

You obeyed, your eyes meeting her's in the reflection.

"That's it, Y/n," Natasha murmured. "See how beautiful you look like this? With your legs spread open for me, your pussy soaking wet and waiting for me. You're perfect, Y/n."

"I want to go inside," You whispered. "Can I?"

"Of course," Natasha whispered. "Put one finger in."

You slowly eased a finger into yourself, whimpering at the sensation.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," You gasped. "But I don't know if it's enough."

"Try adding another," She instructed, and you obliged.

"Ah, fuck," You moaned, arching up into your hand.

"That's it, baby. Feel yourself, feel what you do to yourself," She whispered, her hands still stroking your inner thighs.

"Feels so good," You panted. Natasha used her hand to slow you down.

"Not yet," She kissed the side of your head. "I want you to enjoy this. I want you to think about me. How good I make you feel. Imagine your fingers are mine. Fucking you."

You groaned, the pleasure overwhelming, as you moved slower, taking your fingers in and out.

"Natasha," You whispered.

"Shh," She kissed the side of your head.

"I'm close," You whined.

"I know," She smiled. "But you have to wait."

"But why," You whimpered.

"Because it's better when I say so," She explained. She raised her hand, gently rubbing your breasts, careful not to be too rough. Though you do think about how much you would like it. "You're such a good girl for me."

"Nat," You whined, thrusting faster, as she held you closer.

"You're close, baby," She whispered, her fingers finding your nipples, gently tugging them.

"Please, Natasha, I'm so close."

"Tell me what you want," She demanded.

"Bite me," You tilted your neck for easier access. "Mark me. Please."

Natasha growled as she sunk her teeth into your neck, the pain and pleasure mingling together and making you moan. She sucked on the mark she had made, her hands roaming your body. You could feel your pussy clench around your fingertips.

"Fuck," You cried, your back arching.

"Cum, baby. Come for me," She commanded, and you obeyed, moaning loudly, as your orgasm crashed through your body, your muscles contracting.

"That's it," She soothed, holding you tightly, her hands caressing your sides. "Such a good girl for me."

You collapsed back into her embrace, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin.

"I don't know how you do that to me." You panted, your voice low and sated.

"Because I love you." She replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I love you too," You sighed, leaning back into her arms, as she stroked your hair. "Thank you."

"Of course, baby," She whispered, smiling at the sleepy expression on your face. "I want you to feel good when I'm not home. I want you to make yourself feel good."

"Thank you," You mumbled.

"You haven't taken your fingers out," Natasha pointed out.

"I haven't," You nodded.

"Is it good?"

"Yes."

"Are you ready to go again?"

"Not right now," You shook your head, closing your eyes. "I like being filled."

"Alright," Natasha chuckled.

"Can we just cuddle?"

"We can do whatever you want," Natasha replied. "Though we need to talk about the comment you just made."

"About being filled?" You questioned.

"Yeah," Natasha replied.

"Well, I like the feeling. And I'd like to feel more."

"Oh really," Natasha smirked. "How much more?"

"However much more you're willing to give." You kissed the part of her chin you could reach. "I do not doubt that if possible, I'd be pregnant by now."

"I'd love that," Natasha murmured. "Filling you with my cum and watching it leak out of you. Stretching you."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" You smiled.

"Very much so," Natasha kissed the top of your head.

"Would you want to be on top or should I?" You asked, opening your eyes.

"You can." Natasha offered.

"But I don't know what I'm doing," You protested.

"Trust me. I'll walk you through it."

"You always do," You sighed. "I'm so glad I met you. The way you love me."

"Me too, baby," Natasha said. "You make me so happy."

"And you make me happy."

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I'm just curious since I absolutely adore all your trans Ed fics, what made you read Ed as being trans? Is it more of a personal headcanon since we tend to see ourselves in fictional characters, or did you notice some tiny detail on the show that made you think so?

Oh my friend, I'm so glad you ask.

The cool thing about reading Ed as trans, I think, is that you do not even have to squint to do it. Literally you need to change exactly nothing, and this read suddenly adds a lot of nuance and additional juicy layers to his story and his journey with masculinity.

Ed's whole deal with masculinity, precisely exactly all of it, makes him feel so much like a trans guy who never outgrew the "I need to be hypermasculine so I pass" phase, fitting that read so precisely that given there are trans writers on the OFMD team I would be absolutely SHOCKED if at least some of it wasn't intentional. Every single trans guy I know has been through a version of this, where you come out and you know you're a man but you need everyone else to know, too, and so you lean very hard into masculinity to make damn sure you pass. And not just pass, but pass perfectly. Ed is forcing himself into such a heavy ideal of masculinity that it feels artificial; he needs to make sure everyone sees him as this perfect ideal of a masculine man that he cannot possibly live up to because no one could.

Certainly, parts of Ed's hyper-masculine presentation seem to be things that genuinely make him happy and bring him joy. That's important. Ed's happy to be a man, the problem is that he's trying to force himself into such a narrow idea of masculinity that it's stifling him. It's preventing him from enjoying more ""feminine"" things that he genuinely loves, because he's terrified of being seen as less of a man for it, and people like Izzy reinforce the idea that if Ed fucks up in his performance of masculinity, he's going to be in danger because of that. It's very real, and the added juiciness from reading Ed as trans adds so much to the great story that's already there, I think. There's this additional element of Ed knowing he's a man but needing to make sure everyone else could never doubt it, there's an additional perceived danger to slipping up, there's a sort of jealous admiration for guys like Stede who seem, at least on the surface, so much more comfortable with a different type of masculinity that Ed wishes he could have more of.

And on top of that, there's just a lot of other little additional things, like:

Ed making his beard his whole brand, it just screams beard dysphoria and "no one could ever claim I'm not a man because the beard is my whole THING."

Something about his relationship with his name, and how hard he has to try to get people like Izzy to call him by his name in front of others

The way Ed is dehumanized when he dares to step outside a very safe, masculine gender presentation - it's why Izzy saying "this thing you've become" when Ed is wearing a robe and painted nails hits so hard for me, I think

Okay. okay. listen. You know the scene where Ed makes CJ whip him in the balls. Listen. Ed baby. It just SCREAMS "people here don't know I'm trans and I don't know how much getting hit in the balls should ACTUALLY hurt so I'm gonna lay it on really really thick just to be safe"

There's a lot to be said about Ed and his clothing in a lot of directions, but I'm gonna leave it at how he's really figured out a safe set of clothing that works for him and consistently allows him to be read as this super masculine guy, and he's scared to step away from that. Also, I really like imagining the full-fingered gloves at the end of s1 as a way to cover up the nail polish on his fingernails until it wears off.

I think it's very sweet that Ed tends to be very private when talking about his personal and sex life with others, but a very, very easy explanation for how that got started is he just doesn't want to go around sharing personal details about his body with people!

Yeah. A trans read of Ed is so shockingly easy, fits so well, and adds so much to his journey, frankly I'm amazed it's not more common.

[icarusredwings]

This post may not be suitable for littles or people who get uncomfy with mentions of baby making stuff. IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK THO I SWEAR!!!!

Wade:

Thinking about how much Wade loves babies when he's small.

He's holding Logan's hand down the street as they're running errands, and he's being so good, like SUPER good. Not running away, litsening to instructions, using his words in a way Kitty can understand.

He doesn't even have Fluffy with him either, so he's doing all of this with minimal emotional support, just his chewy star necklace and one of Logans big hoodies. He's in some colorful leggings, though, and in his pocket is nothing but a snack. Not even his cup.

Bro is raw dogging the adult outdoors as his small self with practically nothing. He's still wearing his dog tags, though, just in case he gets lost, they're used as a source of identification.

Ealier, when Wade wanted to pet a stray cat instead of just running off, he gasped and pointed to it. "Kitty!" Which is obviously code for "Look! A cool thing!" So when Logan looked, he saw how polite Wade was behaving.

"Be gentle, okay? Sometimes, they don't like humans." He tells him, carefully walking him over in which Wade just squats down to pet the cat very nicely. You would think 'yeah no duh he wouldn't hurt it,' and you would be correct, though sometimes he pets them too rough or moves too quickly so they get scared and scratch him.

Right now, he's bored, leaning on his shoulder and starting to get fussy because paying bills is boring, and he wants to go home. Chewing on his star, he stops, and his eyes light up, seeing a stoller.

Wade loves strollers. Because where there is a pram- Theres a babe. And babies were great. (Unless they were screaming, and then they were not)

He tugs a bit on Logan, but he's ignored because he's trying to ask the internet service people why they charged them 15 extra this month when nothing changed. "Kitty!" He points, looking at him for consent to go see the baby. Frustrated, confused, and not looking, Logan assumes that he sees another cat and waves a hand. "Yeah, sure. Be gentle."

So, being given the okay, Wade practically skips over to the stroller and crouches down to see a chunky cheeked baby boy. His mum is busy on the phone, so she doesn't even notice a grown man cooing over the child.

Giggling to the baby, he lets him grab his finger and nibble on it. Tickling his cheeks and stuff, you know. Baby stuff. So when he takes off his hood to let the baby play with his necklace, the baby gets upset and starts to cry.

I think we would all cry if we saw a glowy yellow eyed man smiling at us like that with such unfarmiliar skin. You have to remember, babies only know what they're shown, and I doubt it's ever seen anything like this before.

Of course, it cries. And the crying alerts the mom. "Ooh shh, Steven, you're al- Ahh!! Who are you! Get away from my baby, you freak!"

Getting shooed away, he whines, unsure of what he did wrong. Was it bad to play with babies? His head said No.

"What is wrong with you!?"

"I-i... but.." he dosn't know what to say, tries to explain that he didn't do anything bad and that he was sorry but she dosn't seem to care about his words. This is New York afterall. Kids are stolen all the time here.

The yelling, of course, makes Logan think "Great some idiot made the baby cry," only to pause and wonder where Wade went. "OH SHIT that's MY idiot." He thinks and instantly becomes protective, growling as he gives in and throws the extra money at the tiller. Coming outside, he steps in front of Wade. Sure, Wade is a weirdo, but he wouldn't do anything to the baby. Right??

"What's your deal lady!?"

"He tried to take my son!!" She says, assuming the worst.

Logan gives a glance to Wade, who's already crying and shakes his head, unable to get any words out, but "I'm good!" Seeing as various times today, Logan has praised him for behaving. "You're being so good today, kid."

"No he didn't! Now take your ugly pup and get!"

A bit more of arguing, and she finally goes on her way, complaining about New York Weirdos.

After that, he starts asking Wade why he was touching a random baby and honestly just running his mouth that he knows better and shouldn't do that, etc.

Almost instantly, it stops, though, because he's already crying. He lets out this huge sigh. "Fine... Im sorry.. I know you like babies. How about I give you a baby. Would you like that?"

Logan doesn't mean it in the way Wade thinks, obviously, as his eyes widden, sniffling. "You're gonna give me a baby!?"

"Yeah, sure-"

"We're gonna have a baby!!!??"

"WAIT- No! Not like that!"

He squeals and excitedly flaps his hands, continuing to go on about how 'Mommy tried to give him a baby, but it didn't work'

Slapping his hand over his face, he's so embarrassed, blushing all the way down his neck and up his ears. He shakes his head and growls. "SHHH!!! That's not what I meant!! We can't even have a baby moron!" I mean, who wouldn't be embarrassed about their partner OPENLY talking about their past relations in public?

So- He does what every person does when their partner is obsessed with babies by can't have any.

He takes him to the thrift store to pick one out.

[lk0727]

I'm crying because I love the idea of correspondence between the students leaving next year and I'd love to see more of it. The white day cards are so cute that I just want to elaborate (hc) on handwriting and maybe even writing quirks. Just Malleus (for now...)

Malleus would be really interested in how his partner writes, it's all so fascinating to him and he's a pattern noticer. The noticerrrr. And he sees so much that he even finds himself compiling all the repetitive actions you take when writing -not just what you're writing, and brings them to you to discuss further. The way you slant letters, when your pen lets up, if you type then the frequency of paragraph breaking, how you insert images, etc. I think it'd be something like "Did you know you tend to smudge the paper when you reach the furthest margin, are you perhaps left-handed? Oya, you are? I knew that to be the case." He says with a slight smile and downturned gaze because he knows he ate that. Sherlock Horns.

He would get overzealous about the fact that you're only a word away and would immediately call you with his archaic phone and pester you until you receive it. His Correspondence wouldn't actually be a surprise because you are usually visited by a heavy knock on your door and fae appropriate fanfare when it arrives, that's just etiquette when writing royalty. But, he always calls you the day he receives it so that you know he shall be returning post haste and he intends to dazzle you. In fact, you'll spend so long speaking to each other about what was written to him, that when you finally get his response, it's more or less just recapping what you spoke of two days prior. He can't hide his giddyness, even if he keeps a cool baritone while on the phone. Because you're a kind person, you pretend that his tail happily thumping against the ground is inaudible, because you know he can't help it.

He is going to surprise you by the emojis he uses because WHO taught you that!?!? He learned these from Cater and Lilia, but he doesn't change the way he speaks. It's "Good evening, How have you've been? The summer season of Briar Valley is particularly exhausting and hot💧, I am very bothered by the heat of it all.🥵🥵" and when Lilia intercepts it, he's like "that's a perfect sentence, go ahead and send it. Actually, one note, send more sweating emojis, it's really hot this summer, right?"

Your messages go through a diverse array of moderators and middle men. Those people being his Grandmother, who reminds him that he's a prince, Lilia and Silver (the two who initially opened the letter, and finally his transcriber and narrator, Sebek who scoffs at the quality of the smut you're peddling his young master, who shouldn't even be hearing this, but he'll read on against his better judgement. (It's literally benign, the furthest thing from smut, Malleus argues). His letters would look a little like this:

21.09.19XX Child, It's been nice knowing you.😌 Why do I say that? Since we've met, it seems as if Briar Valley has taken a lead in comedy and our collective temperament could not be more jovial. Your humorous description of your familiar, Grim child, was very well received by my Grandmother, as I was awoken early enough to the sounds of insects humming and birds chirping well into the night to read it aloud to me, guffawing as she spoke. (I apologize, I cannot stop her from opening my mail, but we're working on her problematic behavior, that's a fact.😉) She in particular has asked if she may keep it, you know how older individuals are with their chucklesome cat stories. 🙄 There's this understanding of the world that I just don't possess when it comes to what grabs the attention of the people's comedy, it continues to evade me. For instance, what is the humor of "surprise hot dog 🌭" and why must it be a surprise to be enjoyed? The children of Briar Valley seemingly shout this and end their sentences with it, and I am surprised and annoyed every time. It seems like you have an understanding in the matters of humor, so you are welcome to explain it to me. But I digress, If I sat down and listed to you all the things that escaped me, well, you might find yourself as old as I am by the time we've finished! 🤣The trees and wind must sense the happiness in our friendly union, and have planned accordingly to block out bad weather🌧️ and unforgiving spirits. The weather is nice enough that (forgive me I've overstretched my hand) planned your visit for sooner rather than later. Next time we meet in person, this shall be us ->🕺💃, as I've already made arrangements for a night in a cabaret club in the Capitol for us to partake in. It's a culture so far from the realm of possibility of establishing itself in our quiet little country, that I was astounded when I stumbled across its zoning request permits one day and I rushed to see it in person, paperwork be damned. The smaller fae who perform insist it to be a "cheeky, yet inoffensive showcase of the arts", and after witnessing it for myself, I knew it would be the type of entertainment you'd enjoy.🤫 Even now, it doesn't feel natural to write, like an odd mouth feel that doesn't change as I turn it over and over. A cabaret in Briar Valley, a music club in a quiet kingdom... it's as I've mentioned earlier, Briar Valley has surprisingly given itself wholly to the Joviality of life. Sincerely yours; Malleus Draconia, Heir to Briar Valley p.s Surprise hot dog 🌭

On the other hand, as confident as he is in your responses, he's always a little embarrassed to send something back. It's not fear of his ability, but rather, if you'll care to hear about the day to day of a crown prince who's routine is very boring and full of nothingburger drama. He doesn't understand that his 18 page assessment of his life is literally replacing the cable you can't afford, and when he describes the way the lion prince attacked him during a diplomatic meeting, the colorful language of his response makes you laugh, and then cry, and even gag because "how did he get close enough to gash you!?" You can see the face he's making as he writes this, pouty and angry and even chuckling when he describes the punishment that followed. Just like in his real life, Malleus has a hard time concealing his emotions. He's not shy about who he is as a person, and his writing is not either. The way it flows is a little different from traditional correspondence, if anything, he's sending you disjointed journal entries and prose while also clipping what you send him to respond directly. Your 2 page crapped out response filled with emojis and memes and inside jokes is returned in full by 20 pages of thoughtful dialogue, assessments of politics and fondness of your life, and even sketches of the things around him (okay... just gargoyles and Sebek, but those are things in all fairness.) He has a real zest that he doesn't try to contain, and even his handwriting gives it away. When he's in a good mood, it's very pristine, heavily slanted cursive that his heavy hand oppresses by not dotting his i's or crossing his t's. It's just understood between you two what he means. Likewise, when he's angry or melancholic it's surprisingly very light, almost inelligeble as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. He must be getting up and pacing, because of course he is. When upset or recounting something terrible, his handwriting is unusually neat, funnily enough the sentences are much shorter, as if he's hiding something or thinking long about what should be said next. He's a very wistful person, after all.

Malleus enjoys fine art that seeks to appease the senses and refine beauty, so attached to his letters will often be trinkets like necklaces, earrings, watches, and pocket squares that he found in shops in Briar Valley, or a ticket to a play or music shows that dazzled him. The heavier packages (these tend to come at random) are filled with small desserts, books on the anthropological history of different fae species, woven pieces from more aesthetically competent fae and their fashion, and of course, fragmented pieces of ancient gargoyles he found hiding in deserted rooms of the castle. <- He'll know if you've thrown it away, so hold on to the heavy, weird rock fragment, please.