Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! Riiiii-!

“Shut!” I commanded my morning alarm clock with an iron fist, which daintily slapped the shut up button on top. Under the bedsheets, I felt Dee stirring slightly, almost like something was amiss yet wholly regular.

She stretched and yawned adorably before tucking herself in and curling back into a ball, attempting hopelessly to fall back asleep. But I wouldn’t let her, because I gently rose out of bed to walk towards the window. It was quite dark in my room, but I usually kept the floor tidy; besides, it’s harder to trip and fall when you walk on all fours. Flinging the thick drapes open, I undid the latch and flung the shutters open to let the mid-spring sunlight fill the room.

Her eyes opened slightly, mostly being covered by her tangled mess of a mane. She rose slowly, the blanket falling off her shoulders daintily around her, almost creating a blanket nest. Her face blushed faintly and matched perfectly with her dreamy expression, making her look very smoochable.

“You look like shit.” I said in a soft, joking way. She rolled her eyes, probably too tired to bother answering. Brushing a few errant strands of purple and white mane out of her face, I gently stroked the underside of her chin, making her shiver as we shared spit. Admittedly, both of our mouths reeked from having just woken up, but she was too tired to do anything about it and I just didn’t give a shit.

We pulled apart and shared a nuzzle, just staring dreamily into each other's eyes. Then, with a smug grin, I looked up and sniffed. There was an off scent in the air, somehow reminding one of concentrated sweat and aged cheese- and like cheese, it sent a lot of happy chemicals to my brain, especially hers.

“You’re in heat.” She nodded slowly with a wide grin; this was the time of year when she’d be the most fertile, and thus, the best time to have a baby. While she goes into heat every month, it’s strongest during the spring when food would be fresh and plentiful for neo-thaumaturgic scavenger herds; aka, the pony equivalent of hunter-gatherers, with the time period referring to the first crude proto-magics used by the unicorns.

“... So, I am…” She muttered, forcefully grabbing my shoulders and making my back stiffen up. She had a hungry, almost starved look in her eyes; and to her, I was a six course breakfast. She started pulling me on top of her and the two of us rolled over, putting her menacingly over top of me. My heart pounded, face beet red, as her face dove into my neck and-

Knock Knock Knock!

“Mamma! When’s breakfast? I’m hungry and Gramma said it’s your turn!” We both heard Anastasia yell through the one-way microphone on the other side of my door and sighed in annoyance, pressing the button by the bedside to say,

“Give us a minute, honey!” I yelled desperately, only to be answered by more knocking.

“But Mamma! You said, ‘breakfast is the most important meal of the day!’” I groaned silently to myself, rubbing my face with my palms.

I quietly muttered to myself, wholly annoyed- “That was just an ad campaign to sell fucking cereal, I didn’t mean… Ugh!” Why do I do this to myself? “Just sit in the living room, I gotta shower still!”

“Okay, Mamma!” Upon looking up, I saw my wife giggling into her hoof.

“The joys of motherhood.” She said, climbing off me as I pouted and crossed my arms. “Come on, we’ll take a cold shower. We got stuff to do anyway.” Finally I sighed, shaking my head with a faint smile.

“Yes, honey.” For anyone who plans on getting married: Learn those two words. Trust me, they’ll save your life. When I followed her into the bathroom, she stopped and made me bump into her butt. She lightly slapped me with her raised tail; the seductive look in her eyes told me I had tonight to look forward to, at least.

The cold shower really helped me calm down, and we both made quick time getting each other ready. Not to mention, the standing blow dryer she convinced me to have installed is super convenient, being operated by a simple foot pedal. When you’re covered in thick fur, an old fashioned hair dryer and brush takes time to use. For my wife, a thick cap which she just stuffs her hair up in keeps it wet for more purposeful styling.

My wife did her makeup as I used a wide-tooth comb to slick my feathers back- it was like a regular comb, but with a half-inch gap between the teeth for feathers. She removed her cap and let her soaking wet mane fall loosely around her shoulders, figuring she’d do her hair while breakfast is cooking.

Donning my bathrobe and my wooden leg, it was time to greet the day… I guess… Walking downstairs to the living room, I found Anastasia filling out a colouring book while Trixie sipped coffee and read quietly on the couch.

“Sleep well?” I asked my guest, and she flashed me a smile.

“Wonderfully, as usual.” Of course, easy access to medical hash helped that a lot. “Even when Glimmy’s up all night thinking aloud, I sleep like a rock.” She giggled softly, a weary look in her eyes from the early morning grogginess. I just nodded and said,

“Well when you get a minute, let her know I’m starting breakfast down here.” She just nodded plainly while Anastasia gasped, jumping in the air and proclaimed:

“I’ll tell Gramma!” If this was a cartoon, there’d be an Anastasia shaped cloud of dust where she stood before bolting upstairs. I looked at Trixie, and we both just shared an awkward shrug.

“If you need me, you know where to find me.” I admit, Trix can be a bit awkward at times. My wife made good friends with her, but I’ve yet to find a whole lot the two of us shared in common; but I digress.

“Coffee’s in the kitchen.” She said, and I nodded.

Despite having servants and the money to hire the best cooks in the world, I still took great pride and joy in cooking; especially when I’m cooking for others. I’d be making fresh pancakes with a side of bacon and two separate batches of hash browns; one cooked in bacon grease, the other not.

I got the ingredients, all fresh as I could get them, and got to work. The first thing I did was turn the gas burner on and used it to light a cigarette, which I just set in the corner of my mouth to puff away at. I actually almost burned my feathers doing that once, but… Hey? It all worked out. The second thing I did was pour myself a cup of coffee before getting the utensils and shit ready.

My kitchen is fuckin massive; plenty of space to walk around, with a big kitchen island in the middle, with storage drawers on one side and raised chairs on the other, so you could either stand or sit there! My gas range had ten burners and was as wide as two ovens strapped together, and the most burner’s I’ve ever seen used at once on there were six. My freezer is damn near big enough to park your car in, and if you tipped my fridge over you could use it to land a plane!

…

Okay, maybe I exaggerated a bit there.

“Mamma!” My daughter yelled, running into the kitchen. I scooped her up and pulled her in for a hug, her chin resting on my shoulder. Then I lifted her up and set her on one of the tall chairs by the island.

“Watch and learn, kid.” I said, ruffling her feathers with one hand, setting my cigarette in a tray with the other, “You never know when you’re gonna need to cook for other people!” I booped her on the tip of the beak, her adorable giggling making it impossible to frown.

Annie watched as I grabbed some potatoes and washed them, letting them soak in a bowl of water for a moment.

“Why do we wash the potatoes?” She asked innocently, tilting her head. I just smirked and asked,

“What? Do you like dirt on your food?” I asked rhetorically, and she shook her head and made a bleh! sound, sticking out her tongue. “There you go, you answered your own question!”

A heavy hand-cranked peeler made quick work of the potatoes. Shredding them was just as simple of a task; thanks to my hand-cranked grater, I just had to use a metal plunger to push the potatoes into the blade and let the potato shreds fall into a colander.

“If your mother was here, she’d think that it was time to cook the potatoes. That’s why she’s not allowed to cook anymore!” Annie and I shared a private giggle as I went on to explain,

“See, you gotta rinse the hell out of them first thing. Second, spread them out on a towel and remove as much moisture as you can. It makes them nice and crispy!” I explained, putting them into two separate bowls; one being made before the bacon to appease the ponies, and the other batch being cooked in bacon grease. “Now, pancakes!” I declared excitedly, grabbing the milk, eggs, and butter out of the fridge. Only, there was one small problem.

“Aww, for the love of…” I muttered to myself, setting the eggs and butter on the counter. “Anastasia? Can you grab the milk out of the door for me?” I asked, and she nodded.

“Yes, Mamma!” The door in question was the milk-door; a small hatch accessible from the outside where the milkman drops off- “I’m back!” She bolted through the door, and I was surprised about how fast she was. I didn’t even have time to finish my train of thought!

The glass bottles clinked against each other, and we wasted no time stowing the excess bottles in the fridge. Then I grabbed out the flour, salt, sugar, baking powder, and utensils. Putting all the pans I’d need on the range to preheat, I finally grabbed a measuring cup and-

“How come Mommy can’t cook?” She asked innocently, completely knocking me off my mojo. I blinked, continuing to throw ingredients into the bowl as I explained,

“It's not like she can’t cook for herself’, it’s…” I cracked an egg as I gathered my thoughts, “It’s not that she can’t cook. She can cook, but that’s because I tried to teach her.” I explained, mixing the rest of the wet and dry ingredients, reaching under the island for the mixer.

“Why? Didn’t her Mamma teach her how to cook?” Setting the standing mixer up and threading the crank handle back on, I gave her a side-eye glance.

“You know we don’t talk about her.” At first I was stern- but then I thought, “Eh, we’re alone here anyway… No, she never taught Mommy how to cook. Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Wait, whaaaat?” she sounded appalled, and I didn’t blame her. I nodded and continued as the batter mixed,

“That’s because she never knew how to cook, she always just had other people do it for her.” The batter was still full of chunks, so I doubled down on the cranking.

“... Why don’t we do that?” she asked, and I cocked an eyebrow. “Pay someone to cook for us! Think how much time we'd save!” my beak opened briefly to reprimand her for even thinking such a thing… but it is a valid question, to be fair.

“Because I like cooking for you!” I said, ruffling her feathers. “Same reason Gramma likes to cook!” She tilted her head in confusion, and before she could even ask the dreaded why, I elaborated- “An artist spends lots of time and energy using a brush to put their feelings to canvas. A writer spends days doing research to get the smaller details of their story correct, often going unseen behind a pseudony- Okay, these words are a little big. But do you know why the artist spends so much time on their art?” I’d all but abandoned the batter, looking my daughter in the eyes as I taught her this lesson.

She simply shook her head slowly, hopefully thinking about what I said. But I decided to answer-

“It’s so hopefully, their paintings make people feel… something! Anything, really- art can make people feel happy, angry, sad… Whatever!” I said, ruffling her feathers as her eyes widened. “Yeah, it’s hard work. Sometimes the artist gets tired and pay’s another artist to draw something for them; sometimes I get tired and say ‘We’re ordering pizza for dinner, what d’ya want?’” I shrugged, Anastasia giggling softly. I turned back to the mixer, remembering that I had other people waiting for me!

I let out a sigh and continued, “Whenever I put in a bunch of effort cooking something, it gets me nervous sometimes. Like, what if I mess up? What if people don’t like what I’m making?”

“No way!” Annie spoke up, “You’re the best cook in the world!” I gave her a smirk, knowing damn well that wasn’t true… but she’s a kid still, and I’m her mother.

“Maybe. But even I make mistakes sometimes.” I forced myself to focus on the batter and continued, “But then the food gets brought out and all the conversations stop for a minute while everyone tries their first bite, and you see all the contented nods and thankful smiles… it makes it all worth it.” Finally, the batter was done. All that was left was to cut the bacon.

I took the large slab out of the fridge and used a stone to sharpen a large knife, saying to Annie- “Someday, you’ll have a family and kids of your own… then you’ll really know what I mean.” I ruffled her feathers, and the look of awe and realisation never left her face. Cutting the bacon, I instructed; “Now let everyone know I’m starting the pancakes! Tell them if they want chocolate chips or blueberries, now’s the time to ask.”

“Ohh, blueberries, please!” She giggled and hopped off the chair. “I'll be back in a minute, Mamma!” I kissed her forehead before sending her off and finally cooking breakfast. I picked my smoke back up, deciding to just focus on cooking.

When breakfast was finally served, the smiles and gratitude almost made getting clam-jammed worth it… almost. I also noticed two things; First, Anastasia was looking curiously around the table, her eyes widening as she noticed the conversation die down when I walked in the room. While I was glad that she listened, I also noticed something else…

“How’s your writing coming along?” I asked Glimmer with a smug grin. She looked up at me, wholly unamused with a tired look in her eyes. “After breakfast, we’ll talk.” She nodded slowly, a faint smile growing on her lips as I continued with my breakfast.

—

Since my wife was just waiting for one of Emmie’s guy’s to pick her up, I made sure to give her a kiss in case he arrives early. When she came down for breakfast, she was even wearing pants- which was quite a rarity, except during Estrus. She’s been wanting this for a while, and I felt happy for her. Hell, happy for all of us, including the extended family; But as usual, there’s always shit going on.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked Glimmer as she led me into her room. Thankfully, she kept the room tidy… except for the writing desk, covered in a stack of papers, empty coffee cups, and takeout trays. Most glaring of all, however, was the massive stack of crumpled papers next to the desk.

“So, this is my manifesto.” She deadpanned, using her magic to straighten the stack out. “How the fuck do I structure this?” her hoarse horse voice sounded like she was at her wits end, with the bluntness in her tone I found to be kinda funny. But flipping through the pages, I could tell why; rather than being structured with a beginning and an end, it was basically an infodump with ramblings mixed in; various definitions of market terms, random pro-worker speech snippets, and most tellingly of all was a small dossier on Neighsay.

She really, really didn’t like that guy.

“A manifesto needs to be short, concise, and explain to the reader your thought processes behind your proposed changes and reforms. This is the complete opposite of that.” I set the stack down, rubbing my chin in thought. “These loose snippets of ugly truths mixed with proposed radical reform… Hmmm…”

A loud gasp startled me a little, making me jump.

“Sorry…” Glimmer said with a sheepish grin- I just waved her off. “But… snippets of ugly truths, it gives me an idea!” She grabbed a blank sheet of paper and started writing a rough draft, rather than using the typewriter.

“Did you know! This… ceo or whatever… did something cartoonishly dickish!” She said theatrically, pen scribbling large print across the paper. “Ask him about it! He’s at… address, and can be contacted via… whatever, you get it!” I slowly nodded my head, liking this whistleblower pamphlet idea.

“Pamphlets, huh... I like it!” I said, eyes filling up with possibilities. “Imagine, ponies all across major cities waking up one day to find these bright, hard to miss pamphlets in their mailboxes; Try keeping your head in the sand then!” Whipping out more paper, we both decided it was time to brainstorm.

While nothing has been set in motion and word has yet to be put to paper, we had a pretty good idea of what we wanted to do. Neighsay appears to be at the top of her shit list, so we figured, why not? Guy’s a piece of shit anyway, if what Glimmer has to say about him is true.

We were trying to get him arrested for extortion and accepting bribes from foreign entities. Let me explain: When Twilight first opened her school, Neighsay was being an utter ball-breaker about letting the school open because of shitty bureaucratic nonsense. However, Glimmer has reason to believe that the whole thing was a charade to squeeze money out of the ambassador-representatives of the other races.

“But… I technically don’t have any proof.” She said annoyed, and I just chuckled.

“Let me make a phone call.” I said, wasting no time pulling the brass receiver off the wall. “Hey Jos! Look, I’d love it if this was a social call but… Bah, don’t give me that!” Glimmer just awkwardly twiddled her hooves and minded her own business as I spoke, “I know you’re busting my balls, shush! I got something important, if you don’t mind.” I laughed and rolled my eyes.

I cupped my hand over the receiver and asked Glimmer, “What’d you say that prick's name was again?” She seemed confused and I clarified, “The griffon ambassador!”

“Oh! Oh, uh…” She stuttered, glancing off to the side. “Eustace… Gruff! Eustace Gruff, that was his name!” I nodded, scribbling that down on a piece of paper myself. Using my shoulder to press the phone to my ear, I said-

“You ready? I need you to find a guy named Eustace Gruff. He was some ambassador-representative for Twilight’s school when it first opened, you know, the one out by Ponyville. I want a background check, financial records included, and see if we can get in contact. Thanks! Ask for guest room four when you call back.”

Click!

I sat back down on the comfy chair and said- “Let’s go on assuming we know 100 percent for certain.” I said with a faint smile that matched hers.

Duke Neighsayer got his position as Chancellor of Education through any means except for merit, and we were gonna use that fact to our advantage. From what she can tell, he was juiced-in to the position because he has powerful family members. How will the Equestrian public react when they realise that the single pony in charge of overseeing the nation’s education is totally unqualified?

Another interesting factoid that she showed me was that on average, Equestrian high-school and college GPA averages have been on a downward trend. The problem though, is the fact that this would be difficult to confirm. A lot of records like that are closely guarded for obvious reasons; the usual quote-unquote, ‘THINK ABOUT NATIONAL SECURITY!’ fear mongering nonsense that bootlickers eat right up.

That last bit was a direct quote of hers- something tells me that she really didn’t like the Equestrian establishment.

“Hold on, back up a second.” I held a hand up and continued, “How do you know all this?” She just looked at me with a smug grin.

“One of my correspondents, Sunburst. He and I go way back. And as the Court Wizard of Crystalia, he has certain privileges that most are privy to.” I leaned back, giving her an impressed smirk. “Since the Crystalian administration is completely owned by the crown, high officials are given near unrestricted access.”

It was a beautiful system the two had set up; because of the thousand-or-so year gap in history, the puppet officials in Crystalia are able to peruse the Canterlot archives on behalf of the people.

“It’s super simple. All Sunburst has to do is write to Canterlot saying he’s looking for a copy of some old spell tome from fuck knows when and who cares about what for.” She explained, “Sunburst is a trusted friend of the Princesses, they don’t even bother patting him down!” I couldn’t help but chuckle at how fucking brilliant that is!

“Evidently, I should’ve made friends with the Crystalians instead of the Changelings!” Glimmer snorted and rolled her eyes,

“Trust me, Cadence would never work for you…” she looked at me with an apologetic smile and admitted, “They don’t think very highly of you, despite not having met you before.”

Personally? I had to laugh. “Honey, I don’t worry about people that talk behind my back; they’re behind me for a reason.” I gave her a dark grin and said, “If you don’t take any other advice from me, take that. Aside from PR, who cares what others think?”

“True, I suppose.” She nodded slowly, “Though… I might be able to get Sunburst onto our side.”

…

“Our side?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow with a smug grin. “You’re not even made and you’re acting like part of my crew.” I gave her a playful punch on the shoulder, and she seemed confused, almost a little hurt.

“But… I thought we were friends?” I nodded my head and shrugged.

“Oh, absolutely. I’m honoured to call you a friend, and I’m honoured to be your friend. But being a friend is different from being part of my crew. This… this thing of ours is a bit different.” She still seemed a little hurt so I continued- “There’s a lot of responsibility involved, and I don’t mean paperwork.”

“I… still don’t fully understand. What… are there certain things you’re not telling me?” I steepled my hands, trying to figure out how to put this.

“Well… In your case, you’re a guest in my house. You don’t have a lot of sway in business decisions, but that’s because my friends don’t know a whole lot about you. There are also future plans in motion that’ll happen whether you want it or not- nothing bad for you, I assure you.” I bit my lip, then sighed. “But if you’re made? That means you’re one of us. It means we trust you with our lives, as long as you trust us. No one aside from us can tell you no; it’s like a licence to steal, practically! If you have any problems with anyone outside of us, let us handle it!”

“What’s the caveat?” She asked, which I thought to be wise. I just gave her a smug grin.

“Tell you what; if this idea with Sunburst works out, I’ll tell you everything about Our Thing, start to finish. And if you’re interested?” I shrugged and said, “I’ll open the books for you. An ally like him would prove to be invaluable.” I said, holding a hand out.

“I’ll… consider it.” We shook, and we were back to scheming!

The rest of the day, the two of us spent gathering all the info we could find. While I was sending and receiving phone calls, Glimmer was coming up with a plan to get Sunburst on board. Simply put, she’d be visiting Crystalia in disguise to have a private conversation with her friend, which would’ve been set up via letter.

There was a small problem that Glimmer realized-

“How are we gonna send the pamphlets to Equestria without getting found out?” Well, that was a simple answer.

“Equestrians hate meat… but we’re gonna love it!” I said to her utter confusion. “We ship tonnes of meat to Equestria every year! We produce it so cheap, we were able to undercut the government-subsidised pony ranchers. While major shipping is still banned, Equestria relaxed its laws on food import since industrial agriculture has made food here so cheap.” While we haven’t stooped to using corn syrup yet, motorised harvesters are here to stay. “The pony customs guards hate poking around raw carcasses, and only inspect the first couple in a shipment before hiding in the smoke trailer to let the union jagoffs unload the boat.”

“It’s almost like ponies are unloyal when you don’t pay them enough.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Makes ‘em easier to bribe that way.” I said with a shrug, “But when the workers unload the shipment and get them squared away into the right trucks, inside the hollow carcasses will be the parts needed to assemble a printing press.” Or drugs, guns, whatever you may need to clandestinely ship across the ocean. “Then…”

“You’ll need a front?” I stopped briefly. Then I locked eyes and smiled.

“You learn fast… Hay-Mart. My father in law owns it and all its assets as an unofficial subsidiary.” Hay-Mart is kind of like a K-Mart, and now that I think about it, even their names sound similar. As usual, the real story was different from the public story. As far as the general public is concerned, Rich sold Bargains off to his competitor because it was getting difficult to manage both branches overseas.

“You wanna know what really happened?” I lit up a cigarette and explained, “The current CEO, Hay Maker, is our squeaky-clean front man. His stores were dying out when we first got in contact, and he barely had enough money to pay the cabbie to pick up his paycheck! But basically, we made him an offer he couldn’t refuse; sign whatever the fuck we asked him to, and he gets to keep his position. He has no power, and whatever Rich says goes; the guy’s basically a talking head.

“On paper, Hay-Mart owns Barnyard Bargains as a bougier version of Hay-Mart. Hay Maker is the hero of the people, providing goods and sales and yadda yadda. In reality, we use his warehouses as a front for whatever we need. Rich still profits and runs Bargains from across the ocean, any excess is either laundered, put into physical assets, or used to support Hay-Mart. While the great discounts and sales have helped the company’s popularity tremendously, we have to change a lot of numbers to hide the fact that much of it is sold as a straight loss… As far as the crown’s concerned, though? Totally legit.”

“... How deep does this rabbit hole of conspiracy go?” She asked apprehensively, and I just laughed.

“Eh, I dunno. But I will tell you one thing: at first, Hay refused our kind offer, before he got the final offer.” I took a deep drag of my cigarette, saying- “when it comes to Our Thing, there’s one thing you have to be prepared to do; that is, send a message.” I looked at her, and she remained silent so I could continue, “When we want something, we will get it. For instance- when Hay Maker refused, do you know what we did?”

I saw a smile curl up in the corner of her mouth, and I laughed as I explained- “First, we sent in Fin. She broke into his house in the middle of the night, walked into his bedroom, and started whaling on him with a belt in front of his wife. Fucker was crying in the corner and everything!” A hoof covering her mouth did nothing to hide the creeping mirth in her eyes. “Then when we talked to him again we told him- ‘Sign these papers, or you WILL lose your company and everything you own and love!’ And then we told him, ‘Then when you’re broke and homeless, we’ll break your kneecaps and leave you with the bill, you fuck!”

An ungraceful snort followed by a peal of laughter from Glimmer made me smile.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s… in front of his wife?” I rolled my eyes and said,

“You wanna know the best part?” I leaned in and half-whispered, “His wife left him because he couldn’t get it up anymore after that!”

—

What started as a serious bout of planning turned into aimless gossip as we both shared stories and complained about Equestria.

Later that night, Dee broke the news- her unicorn doctor confirmed that the egg took, and we were all happy as could be. Anastasia was excited to have a kid brother or sister, Mamma was excited on principal, Dee was just plain excited… and me? I was excited for the future, but for different reasons.

Obviously because I’ve made more progress with Glimmer… but it was mostly because of what my wife had planned for me after dinner.

After we put Anastasia to bed and we were sure she was sleeping, we made sure our door was locked.

“You’re gonna be getting bigger. I hope you’re prepared for it.” She was always self-conscious about her weight and I loved busting her balls- naturally, she scoffed at me.

“Oh, am I, huh?” She asked sarcastically, slapping a riding crop against the bedframe, making me… quite excited. She grabbed my wrists, pinning me to the bed. “I’m gonna make you pregnant, bitch!” She whispered in my ear, sending a chill down my spine.

“B-but… how?” My mind was turning to static, and that was all I could utter… but the large strap on between her legs gave me a hint as to how she was gonna try.

—

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

“GET PREGNANT! GET FUCKING PREGNANT, YOU DIRTY FUCKING LOOSE CUNT!-” The soundproof walls were nice, since my wife could be as loud as she wanted.

Thwap! Riding crop. Of course.

“Owwww! I’m tryiiiiiiiiing!” I whined and begged, barely able to catch my breath. “Try going h-harderrr!”

GOD I love this woman.

I have a discord server for this fic out now!! It'd be real cool if u joined :333

If you think about it, the Mafia is kind of like a cult...

As always, thanks so much for reading! Likes and comments are greatly appreciated :3