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#(that's another issue altogether)

duelistkingdom · 7 months

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idk i think in fandom spaces, we do have a duty to keep ai out of it. ai generated fic and ai art and ai edits all contribute to the culture of “artists do not matter” and i do think it reflects your values, even if you aren’t making money off it. you care about being able to Consume The Content over the craft of it all, the storytellers, and artists. it’s brushing aside fandom creators in favor of being able to consume consume consume and suck it dry and abandon it in favor of something new and shiny. i do find it revealing if you insist you should be able to consume limitlessly without caring about who makes the thing.

#it’s not even ai! there’s nothing INTELLIGENT about it #it doesn’t think #and the personification of ai is another issue altogether

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quietwingsinthesky · 8 months

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Ok ok sorry for the length of this and I know this technically doesn’t have anything to do with what you’ve been posting, but I always hated how the show (even in the early 2000s) was trying to go down this holier than thou route of "let’s have dean [tortured haunted man] correct jo [sheltered spoiled little girl] when she’s accusing him of being misogynistic because he’s obviously a rugged warrior who doesn’t care about gender, only strength".

Like they were working so hard to show us how petty and insignificant our uppity gender-equality champagne problems were "in the grand scheme of things", and then they go and make Bobby, who was supposed to be this wholesome uncle kind of character, blatantly say "let’s stop talking about our feelings before we grow lady parts" lol I’m pretty sure that was one of the most explicitly sexist moments of the entire show. like they’re not even implying anything it’s just straight up misogyny disguised as red blooded American male trash talk.

And it’s funny bc that’s literally the kind of strawman shows of the era usually used to spread that weak girlboss message of "Oh you think I’m emotional bc I’m a woman? Well actually I’m cold and much tougher than all of u boys!!", only in that case actually portrayed unironically. This fuckin show man.

Honestly, I have nothing to add here. Yeah. That's it, that's the show. Much like how it occasionally tries to go 'wait maybe hunting... bad???' without ever changing what the main characters do, it can only lightly touch on 'hey sexism is wrong women can be powerful cool hunters too' before going back to its comfortable place of shitting on anything remotely feminine. For a show that loves to talk about free will, it sure hates the idea of ever changing lmao.

#even in the later seasons its like. you only get cool girlboss female characters who are Also Hunters and therefore Tough and Badass #(mary. jody. donna. even claire gets put in here lol despite it making zero sense for her to- you know what? that's another rant altogether #you only get to be a woman (for a little while) in supernatural if you are a hunter and earn a little manhood for yourself.#and even then you DO have to die because ew. cooties.#i do love this show. i do. it has so many issues and problems though.#ask #spn

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isayoldbean · 11 months

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apparently All This Time i hadn't had 'a summer's end--hong kong 1986' on my steam wishlist despite thinking i'd added it back when i first saw the release announcement for it and now i'm paranoid about what else i've forgotten to put on there

#not that it matters since Apparently nobody will hire me so i'll never have any money with which to buy them #oh well lmao that's another issue altogether

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apollos-boyfriend · 2 years

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not to negpost about the whole sam kids thing again. but i'm thinking about how people originally commented about how it's an au, which is why it doesn't fit into canon. which i can get. ofc aus aren't gonna fit to canon, that's not what they're for. but there's something so weird to me about taking boomer, who's flirts with sam pretty much on a daily basis, and thinking "ah yes, an au where these two are father-son would be perfect". you can't tell me that's not kind of weird.

#icarus speaks #fandom neg #it's not even my Main issue with the dynamic #which is the attempt to impose it into canon #but thats another post altogether #like?? that's just so Weird to me. and for lack of a better term. icky.#that's just SUCH a weird though process to have. to see someone flirt with someone else fairly regularly and want to see them as father-son

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hotmalewife · 7 months

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I keep having this happen where other autistic ppl (and me) completely misread other autistic ppl because we r so used to trying to read neurotypical ppl all the time

#Also i have a very flat affect w my voice and my voice is deeper because of t and ppl dont like it which is like another issue altogether #Ppl keep misunderstanding my tone now which wasnt an issue b4 :(

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saph-yells-into-the-void · 8 months

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im still confused at this one tweet talking about how wholesome high school bl animanga is somehow 'controversial'

is it that there's too much? bc maybe there's a lot of wholesome bl manga but fuck there's barely any in anime are you kidding. ppl were praising sasaki to miyano for being an actual wholesome bl and that was in winter 2022.

is it the fact that there's any at all? bc um... I don't want to have to explain why queer wholesome stories are allowed to..y'know...exist??? like??? what are you trying to say here

#it gets me soo pissed when I see dislike for wholesome queer stories just for existing #if you are trying to say we need more variety just *say* that instead of putting down wholesome shit altogether #'theres too much of this type of queer rep' holy shit do you realize how stupid you sound #there can never be *too* much of one kind of queer rel #your issue is that there isn't enough of another- just fucking say that it's not hard

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denkies · 1 year

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🐈 clan-confessions Follow

i'll never say this publicly but honestly i think tigerstar had some valid ideas about having one big clan. obviously he was super wrong with all the violence and force, but one big clan could solve a lot of issues. No more border patrol fighting, more food for everyone during leaf-bare season, no drama involving cross-clan mates, etc etc. a lot of deaths could be avoided if we all took care of one another instead of fighting all the time

🌠 fishluvr76 Follow

ok are we all going to ignore that anon is siding with a literal DICTATOR??? :/

🌸 sweet-tooth Follow

That's not what they meant and you KNOW it. They brought up some valid points about preserving lives, and denounced Tigerstar's actions as much too violent. Starclan above, no cat can have an opinion these days...

🌒 singlequeen7 Follow

Honestly I don't know how I feel about this... each Clan is beautifully unique and has their own traditions, which would fade away if Clans were desolved altogether. But OP makes a valid point about less violence and food scarcity. I hate the idea of sending my kits off to become Warriors, only for them to die during a stupid argument about Sunningrocks. A pile of rocks is NEVER worth a cat's life, whether they are in your Clan or not. And we have lost lives like that before.

🍄 medicinepawz Follow

I agree! Traditions are important, but every medicine cat knows that working together saves lives. Sharing herbs can stop the spread of greencough, and sharing prey stops kits from crying from hunger. We really need a better system, because I can't cry myself to sleep another night, blaming myself for not having enough cobwebs to stop a kit from bleeding out in front of me.

🐅 lonelywarrior5346-deactivated

leave it to a woman and a medicine cat to emotionally manipulate proud warriors into giving up our PURECLAN bloodlines and Clan patriotism lolol

🍄 medicinepawz Follow

HELLO?????

🐛 bug-enjoyer Follow

> complains about "emotional manipulation" (it wasn't?)

> proceeds to be misogynystic AND racist in the same sentence???

> we get it babygirl, you want to fuck Tigerstar. weird ass mf.

🐈‍⬛ moondrops Follow

"Lonelywarrior5346" is Flintstep from Riverclan btw

🌸 sweet-tooth Follow

LMFAOOOOWAGWHQAKDHOA

🫐 berrycloud Follow

GET HIS ASS

🌌 dorkstar Follow

nah bc which one of you killed this dude yesterday lmfao 😭💀

🌸 sweet-tooth follow

NO ARE YOU FR

🐛 bug-enjoyer Follow

@ dorkstar say sike right now 😭😭

🌌 dorkstar Follow

border patrol found him dead in a ravine 😭 yall play too much

🫐 berrycloud Follow

when i said get his ass i did not mean like this

#completely inspired by @starclanz 's post #thought it was so fucking funny i had to make one #warrior cats #warriors #wc #thunderclan #riverclan #windclan #shadowclan #a.txt

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textmel8r · 8 days

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[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex

୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!

Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?

And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.

But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”

The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?

“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.

“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.

Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.

You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.

Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.

Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”

He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.

His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.

"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."

He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.

The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"

Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?

“Sure.”

“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”

Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”

You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.

“I take it you come here often?”

The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”

The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."

"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."

He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.

"Nanami, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."

It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.

Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.

You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.

“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.

Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”

“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.

Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”

The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.

“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”

“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be.

You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.

The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”

“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it did.”

“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”

“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”

You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”

He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.

“Why go through the trouble?”

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”

A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”

Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”

“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”

Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”

“Good. You look fun-deprived.”

Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”

“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”

He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”

Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

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maxtermind · 9 days

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Request for lewis. Maybe after a terrible race weekend he comes home. and his wife thinks he would be so disappointed but when he comes home he's just so...... unserious (like look how giddy he is even when the results r not that good). like maybe he comes home and just starts kissing her and their son.

until i found you

★ : feat :: lewis hamilton x wife!reader ★ : genre :: fluff; hurt/comfort ★ : word count :: 1k+ ★ : a/n :: domestic lewis is food for the soul

It was so frustrating for you to sit at home alongside your son and watch Lewis have another horrible weekend that you decided to just skip watching the race altogether. Given that last time, your son cried so much that he threw up.

It was a mutual decision yet you were shocked to see that you were feeling worse than Lewis did when you guys talked about it. His only reply was,”You know I can’t even drive knowing he’s crying at home because of me, right?”

As you watched Lewis trudge through the front door, a heavy weight seemed to hang on his shoulders. His steps lacked their usual bounce, and his usually bright eyes were dull with disappointment. You could practically feel the tension radiating off him as he entered the room.

”Hey, Lewis,” you greeted him softly, trying to gauge his mood.

He offered you a weak smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. ”Hey, baby” he replied, leaning forward to kiss you as his hands sneaked around your shoulder.

You moved closer, concern etched into your features. ”How… how are you?” you asked tentatively, dreading the answer.

Your husband let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping further. ”It was… rough,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. ”Nothing seemed to go right. Mechanical issues, a pit stop mishap… you name it.”

Your heart sank at his words, knowing how much he had been preparing for this race. ”I'm so sorry, Lewis,” you murmured, reaching out to gently squeeze his shoulder. ”That sounds incredibly tough.”

”Yeah, it was,” he admitted quietly. ”But hey, that's racing, right? You win some, you lose some.”

You could sense the underlying disappointment in his words, the frustration of coming so close to success only to have it slip through his fingers. Your heart ached for him, wishing there was something you could do to ease his pain.

Before you could say anything else, your son's voice rang out from the other room. ”Daddy's home!” he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

Lewis's face lit up at the sound, a hint of his usual brightness returning. ”Hey there, champ!” he called out, his voice infused with warmth.

Your son came bounding into the room, his eyes wide with excitement. ”Did you win, Daddy?” he asked eagerly.

Lewis hesitated for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing his features before he managed a small smile. ”Not this time, buddy,” he replied gently. ”But I gave it my best shot.”

Your son nodded understandingly, his disappointment fleeting as he threw himself into his father's arms. ”That's okay, Daddy,” he declared. ”You'll get 'em next time!”

Lewis's smile widened at his words, a genuine sense of pride shining through. ”Thanks, buddy,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. ”I'll definitely give it my all.”

As Lewis hugged your little bundle of joy to his chest, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and admiration for the man standing before you. Despite the disappointment he faced, he remained determined and resilient, his love for his family shining through even in the darkest of times.

It was just another instance where you realized how you would never be as strong as your husband.

You approached them slowly, your heart heavy with empathy. ”Lewis,” you began softly, ”I'm so proud of you. You gave it your all out there, darling.”

He turned to you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. ”Thanks, love,” he murmured, his voice tinged with gratitude. ”It means a lot to hear you say that.”

You reached out, tracing a gentle finger along his cheek. ”I know it's tough right now, but remember, you're more than just a race car driver. You're an amazing father and an.. alright husband.”

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of the familiar spark returning to his eyes as he threw his head back and let out a laugh. ”You always know how to lift my spirits,” he admitted, pulling you into a warm embrace.

”I don’t think it matters, anyway. Wish there was a way to skip this season altogether.”

He said it so nonchalantly that you were left blinking your eyes as Lewis tickled your son and left kisses all over his face. It took you a minute to process but you were glad he wasn’t letting it get to him.

Five years ago Lewis would’ve probably lost it but the Lewis who was the father of your child wasn’t a sore loser.

You joined them for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of the day slowly lifting from your shoulders. At that moment, it didn't matter that the race hadn't gone as planned. What mattered was the love and support you shared as a family.

As the day wore on, you gathered around the dinner table, sharing stories and laughter as a family. Lewis's infectious energy lifted your spirits, turning what could have been a somber evening into a celebration of togetherness.

”He really colored his camel green?” Lewis snorted, engaging in the conversation smoothly.

”Yes, daddy!” Your son snickered loudly. ”And then he cried when the teacher asked if it was a crocodile.” Your son ranted away, finally having another person to share the tales from his day with, his laughter filling the room with joy.

And as Lewis caught your eye from across the table, his gaze filled with love and gratitude, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, you would always find a reason to smile.

Later that evening, as you tucked your son into bed, you couldn't help but marvel at the resilience of the man beside you. Despite the disappointments of the day, Lewis had remained steadfast in his optimism, his unwavering love for your family being the pillar he leaned on.

”I bet you’re tired,” you whispered as Lewis closed the door to your son’s room, mindful to keep your voice low.

”I know a way you could help me relax then.” He said right back before hoisting you up his shoulders. A loud yelp leaving your mouth that made him chuckle as he walked you both into the master bedroom.

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