#but it's still wonderful to see them as parents now and watch them do their best to impart those values onto their kids

[mental69er]

Okay but the thought of Victoria Neuman falling in love with the reader who is a retired ballerina that teaches lessons but is also Zoe's ballet teacher and favorite ballerina before they retired has been bouncing around in my brain.

content: sfw, ballerina reader, fluff piece, short

You only knew her as Zoe's mother. The put together woman in designer suits that picked up her daughter in a black car with a driver that opened the doors for them.

You didn't bother to inquire about what she did for work. Her face was plastered all over the TVs as elections drew near. A lot of your clients were wealthy or famous, bringing their children to you to learn ballet.

You had been a prodigy in it, learning dance moves before you could even form a proper sentence. Your rise to fame and acclaim had been fast, skyrocketing you into the stratosphere before it all came crashing down. Ballet was not easy on the body, especially not on such a young one that was still developing.

It was why you had to retire professionally, only teaching the occasional ballet class if there were enough clients on the roster. Still, you were quite famous and it wasn't odd that many in the upper echelons knew who you were.

What was odd though, was Victoria's interest in you.

You specifically did not stay and chat with parents, knowing they were busy, or wanting to avoid the general superficiality in which these people operated. Victoria always went out of her way to talk to you after class was over, or if she could catch you alone, before class.

Her questions were kind, polite, and yet her eyes were probbing. Undressing you, trying to dive in your mind and understand you. It wasn't the first time you'd seen hunger like this on another's face, her's was merely better guarded. When you had been younger, less broken, many men had wanted you like their own personal doll.

You had never given in. But it had been years since you'd last felt prized, like you weren't an old discarded toy.

Still, you were wary. Carefully dancing around her flirations and inquisitive nature, waiting her out until Zoe's lessons would end for the semester.

With each gradual passing week, you could see Victoria becoming more and more frustrated by her lack of progress. The woman was hell bent on getting closer to you.

"You know, I used to want to be a ballerina too."

You couldn't help but arch an eyebrow in shock. "Really?"

"I was a bit too rooted in my major in college to suddenly switch to it. But I did wonder what it would be like to move with such grace, with such passion as you did." She said, chuckling warmly to herself. "You move your body so well." The last part was said in a slightly lower tone that had your stomach flipping.

"Zoe ended up watching some of your performances and wanted to try ballet too. I couldn't deny her it the same way I denied myself. And now here we are," Victoria said.

"Here we are, " you repeated.

"You should give Zoe private lessons," she said, and you knew what she was angling for. It was all a cover to have you without the distractions of others.

"I don't do private lessons."

"You should. I pay alot," Victoria said, tone turning serious. Her brown eyes were fixated on you and she stepped in closer. You couldn't find it in you to step back. "Think about it." She took out a card from her inner pocket. You took it and she stepped away, going back to her car where Zoe was waiting for her.

You sighed. This looked to be Victoria's private number on the card. You thumbed it thoughtfully and watched as her car pulled away.

Did you dare indulge in the president elect's whims?

[lemotmo]

911 8x08 thoughts and freak outs!

Okay…

Well…

WOW…

OMG!!!

What do I say about this episode? 😶

Uhm…

Well, my first reaction was this: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! 🤣🤣🤣

And I mean this in a very good way! 😏

I’m just going to start with the thing that made me go AAAAAH! In the first place:

Eddie and Chris! That scene was heartbreaking and when Brad talked to ‘Edmundo’ about his estranged son it was a great moment. Eddie has started to realise he has to act NOW, because he son is growing up without him and he doesn’t want that gap to become any wider. 😭

Side-note: Fuck the Diaz parents big time! They suck! 😠

So Eddie decides to move to Texas, which is so very much the wrong thing to do. But I get why he’s considering it. The right thing to do for him would be to go to Texas, talk to Chris and telling him he needs to come home, back to LA. But I don’t think Eddie is ready for that yet. He’ll need some time to get there, but he’ll get there in the end.

Which leads me to that one scene with Buck. And OMG! In the seven years that I’ve been here, shipping Buddie, I’ve seen a lot scenes between them that suggested something more, but it was never really anything concrete… you know? 🤷‍♀️

This scene? It was like being hit over the head with a sledgehammer. Buck just walks into Eddie’s house and Eddie’s okay with that. He’s teasing him about the tablet and Eddie lets him. They know each other through and through. And Buck’s face when Eddie told him it was in El Paso? That was interesting. And of course he wants to help Eddie. It almost feels like they’re buying a house together for a moment there. But then…

Then when Buck’s sitting on the Diaz couch (yes… hello couch theory, great to see you again! 😂), his face falls and there is something there that wasn’t there before. Guys… we just witnessed the very early beginnings of Buck’s ‘OH’ moment. Eddie making plans to move will help Buck realise just how much he truly cares for Eddie. 🥲🥲🥲

So, this is it. This is THAT scene we’ve all been hoping for.

I feel unwell.

In a good way.

The Buddie-arc has officially begun. 😋🌈😁☀️

So unwell right now.

Still in a good way.

But oh… this is going to be such a good hiatus! That scene alone will inspire so many writers to write excellent fic, it will fuel us for months and ignite the fandom to speculate and theorise. It’ll be epic! 😎

I wonder if there’ll actually be a time-jump or they’ll just pick up where they left off after hiatus. 🤔

On to the rest of the episode:

Where was the Maddie storyline they talked about?

Athena’s storyline was actually nice this time. It is entirely possible that something flew over my head when it comes to her scenes as a police officer. But to my non-American eyes, it was a nice storyline. The cart cop kid was a little naive, but he was likeable I suppose. I don’t really enjoy watching people like that on YouTube, but for the show it was okay.

I unexpectedly really enjoyed the Brad storyline. Granted, him rescuing that woman and risking hurting her? That was iffy, but 911 is like HotShots in that respect, you know? We aren’t supposed to take it all ‘that’ seriously. So I can live with that scene. I love the growth in Brad and how he talked that guy from the ledge. Do we think that scene was based on the fact that Jon Bon Jovi talked someone from the ledge a couple of months ago? I think that’s where Tim got his inspiration for this.

So overall, I really enjoyed this episode and I have to admit that I didn’t really expect too much of it. But it managed to surprise me in a few ways. But mostly that Buddie-moment… it just blew my mind. 🤯

I can happily skip into hiatus now. All is right with my fictional TV-show world again.

😎😎😎

I'm off to read the post interviews now and answer some asks in my inbox. YAY!

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, it's me again, could you write another story about Buddy Wonder Woman's daughter, about her friendship with John and Dhmian, about her misadventures and about her adaptation to the new modern world

Here are some shenanigans the trio have gotten themselves into!

Hope you enjoy!

Wonder Buddy and the Super Sons shenanigans

SFW, Platonic, Slight Familial, Amazonian reader

WONDER FAMILY

Damian, Jon, and Wonder Buddy were often referred to as the New Trinity by the older Leaguers.

Almost spitting images of their parents in looks and personality.

But they had a different bond than their parents had with each other.

They had a deep-rooted friendship that none of their parents would ever have with each other.

It showed in some of their child like shenanigans.

Exhibit A. The Roomba Incident.

Buddy was very cautious of all the new technology around her, having never seen anything like it on the island.

She had a particular grudge against Roombas after one went rouge (Luthor tech) in the Kent household and she had to fight it.

Lois came back home to a very clean home, a dirty Jon, a new Wayne tech Roomba, and Buddy making apology deserts.

It took forever to get Buddy to stop raising her sword at another Roomba’s.

Damian: “For the last time Buddy this is not going to kill you!” Buddy: “You said that last time and look what happened!” Jon: “Wait!” He flies to the fridge and pulls out a popsicle. Buddy looks at it curiously. Jon: “I’ll give you the popsicle if you put the sword down.” Buddy looks hesitantly before sheathing the sword. Jon chuckles as Buddy has a big smile on her face while eating it. Meanwhile in the Watchtower… Diana: “…Something just happened…” Bruce: “What?” Clark: “Diana?” Diana: “I do not know yet… but something is waiting for me on Earth.”

Which leads to Exhibit B: Sweets.

It surprised both boys how much of a sweet tooth Buddy had.

It was also one of the easiest ways to sway her to their side of an argument.

While she was fair mediator, giving her some of her sweets, she might rethink her previous thoughts.

But they use this power sparingly.

After the Christmas Light Incident, they know better than to let Buddy have too much sugar.

Her inner Amazonian takes the wheel and has enough energy to fight a speedster.

At the Wayne Manor. Daiman: “I told you to watch her! You know she’s still new and gets lost!” Jon: “In my defense, she was right behind me when I last saw her. She couldn’t have gone that far anyways.” A few minutes later… Buddy after 3 plates of cookies and 5 bottles of soda, has her sword out and is swinging maniacally at the test dummies. Buddy: “DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR!” Jon, Damian, Jason, Time, and Steph are behind a table acting as a barrack. Damian: “Which one of you imbeciles thought it was a good idea to give her sugar!” Steph: “To be fair, I’ve always wanted to see what a sugar high Amazon looked like.” Jon peaks over the table. Jon: “She’s still going strong. Dummy number 98 is gone.”

It took a couple hours for her sugar crash to start happening.

All high sugar items in the manor are now heavily guarded.

Even with Buddy’s little hiccups, she is still an extremely loyal friend.

She has gone out of her way to make sure her friends are safe and happy.

Whether it be during missions or as civilians.

The boys wouldn’t give anything up for their friend.

They would stand by her side without hesitation.

Because they knew she would do the same for them.

Jon is trying to talk a bully down. The bully snickers and goes to punch Jon before he notices a girl and boy behind the Kent. Both are glaring at him. If looks could kill, he’d be at the center of the earth by now. The bully leaves. Jon smiles: “I did it guys!” Damian: “Of course.” Buddy: “Didn’t have a single doubt!” Later on patrol… Buddy is carrying Damian in the air. Damian: “I had it handled!” Buddy rolls her eyes. Buddy: “Yes, because nothing says I have it handled than hanging by one’s fingertips with a broken leg.” Damian: “My leg is not broken.” Buddy raises an eyebrow. Buddy: “You want to test that theory?” Damian grumbles in response. Another while later… Some random guy is trying to hit on Buddy at school. Random guy: “How about I show you a good time?” Wonder, oblivious, Buddy: “Oh? What are you planning?” The guy gets closer and slides his arm around her shoulders. Buddy starts to glare at him. His face starts getting closer. THWACK! The guy is now unconscious on the ground. Buddy blinks at the sudden drop. Damian: “Tt.” Jon grabs her hand gently. Jon: “You okay?” Buddy: “I’m fine.” Damian: “How could you let him get so close?” You can easily flick him across the street.” Buddy: “I thought he wanted to be friends.” Damian just groans before grabbing her other hand and starts walking. Damian: “I hate both of you.” Buddy and Jon just laugh as they let their human friend drag them back to the Wayne manor.

[koqabear]

ugh FINE i’ll give you guys another spoiler scene for psycho rich kid beomgyu 😒😒 fine!!!! since literally everyoneeee is asking for it !!!!! (do you guys still remember this fic.)

sfw, unedited

Beomgyu gave you twenty minutes. 

He knows better than to have high expectations for you; it's a foreign, overwhelming experience, with watchful eyes in every corner and reputations at stake. He’s always thought the Huening’s foyer was over the top— tacky, really, an arrogant display of wealth that only serves to intimidate newcomers. 

The catering choices for this year however, have improved. Beomgyu has found that he prefers the palette selected this time around, remembering the foods that had him grimacing and holding back a gag last year— when his mother ushers him to accept a caterer’s offer, he doesn’t feel as apprehensive to obey. It’s a small food that’s easy to pop in his mouth, and Beomgyu takes this moment to sneak a glance at the analog watch on his wrist, much too heavy for his liking. Five minutes have passed. 

Your head must be spinning; your stomach must be tied up into a complex rollercoaster. He allows his mother to place a heavy hand on his shoulder, bringing him into her side as a display of affection. Briefly, he recognizes Mr. and Mrs. Jang, their daughter beaming prettily between them— her eyes have a glassy, empty look to them, ruby lips stretched into a permanent smile. She doesn’t speak once in the conversation that’s all about her. 

Beomgyu’s eyes begin to wander, looking up at the chandeliers and the winding stairs that lead to the second floor; he observes the rest of the patrons around him, dressed in formal gowns and pristine tuxedos— everything is polished to perfection, from the floor beneath him to the pleasant smiles the people around him exchange. Looking at this must be suffocating you. 

Ten minutes. Ten minutes should be enough for you to gather your courage and come to him, right? You must be pacing in circles right now, watching from a distance and unable to cross the boundary that separates you— he thinks of the back entrance the you’ve been taken to, the gaping doorway behind him, and goes to sneak a glance over his shoulder, a quick look just to see if you’re there—

His mother’s nails bite through the thick material of his blazer and dig into his skin, stiletto points that burrow into his tender flesh. Beomgyu masks the wince of his body for a smile that he gives to Mrs. Jang, catching her eyes as he listens to her compliment him, an exchange that goes back and forth between her and his mother. 

Fifteen minutes. What’s going through your mind right now? Have you found complacency in the back tables with mediocre store-bought desserts the employees brought for each other? His parents have wandered off to the dance floor, bumping into the Huenings and talking animatedly, as though they were having the most interesting conversation on earth. He worries that his mothers face might rip open from the strain of her smile— Beomgyu doesn’t remember the last time his father laughed so loudly. 

Twenty minutes. He’s been dumped off with the Jang’s daughter, a robotic girl that can only muster small talk and ask superficial questions, round eyes absorbing the light around them and plump lips stretching to show a perfect, pearly smile. 

Are you enjoying the party so far? 

Beomgyu merely glances at her before he’s back to observing his surroundings, wondering if you’re just lost in the crowd. He looks over at the catering table, with towers of pastries, expecting to find you gawking at the magnificent display. 

It’s empty and untouched. 

“It’d be better if the music they played wasn’t trying to put me to sleep,” he remarks, unsure if he can take another classical piece droning on in the background. 

Her eyes light up and she laughs; a delicate sound, like windchimes moved about by the wind. Beomgyu wonders if he should be endeared by the noise. 

Twenty-five minutes. Thirty. Forty. 

Beomgyu feels a pressure behind his eyes, incessant and just as uncomfortable as the stiff suit that’s beginning to drive him mad— it’s stuffy in this corner he’s found himself in, the Jang’s daughter— Wonyoung, he remembers— continuing to cling to him despite his insistence that she doesn’t have to. Three failed attempts to shake her off and she’s still glued to his side. 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he murmurs, looking around the vast foyer and to the back entrance, where you must still be— when he takes a step back, Wonyoung takes one forward. 

“I’ll go with you,” she smiles, her voice sweet and song-like. Beomgyu shakes his head at her offer, pressing his lips together before he finds the right words to say.

“It’s alright. Really,” he reassures, glimpsing over at his parents, still distracted by the Huenings, then scanning the room for the Jang’s— when he confirms that both have been consumed by other matters, he turns around to send Wonyoung a stern look. “Neither of our parents are paying us any mind now.

“Please excuse me,” he says, uncaring of the way Wonyoung tries to open her mouth to speak, “I have more important things to tend to.”

His steps hasten the further he gets from her— ducking his head to ensure he doesn’t make eye-contact with anyone, his parents least of all. It’s only when he’s escaped the public and stepped into the back hall that he finds a weight slipping off his body. 

He stands at the doorway, a blank expression on his face as he begins to scan his surroundings; it’s a quiet, dull place, with workers and cooks coming and going from various places, carrying dirty dishes or a new pretty plate with delicacies to hand out— he watches the commotion from a distance, scanning through bodies in search of your anxious face. A cook, a maid, a caterer that stares down at their dirtied shirt with disdain and quiet curses— but no you. 

If anyone spots the boy amidst all the chaos, wandering around places he shouldn’t be, no one bothers to point it out— they’d rather not cause any potential problems, anyways. Beomgyu can feel the glances spared to him, the confusion in their eyes before they’re going back to work; he peeks his head curiously in every room he can, opening every door he finds. 

When he realizes you’re nowhere to be found, a strange sensation begins to bubble inside him. 

It starts in his stomach; a heavy pang, a sinking sensation that ebbs into the rest of his torso, speeding his heart rate and pumping adrenaline into his veins. His hands begin to tremble, and he finds himself oddly haste to check any room he hasn’t yet, or double check any he has— his legs feel like jelly, his hurried steps reminiscent of a deer learning to walk; he thinks he might just trip over his own feet if he isn’t careful enough. 

Where have you gone? Where could you have possibly gone? Beomgyu has triple checked the employee area— you’re not there. Not in the closets, not in the bathrooms, not in the corners in the back of the rooms. 

He steps out to the hall, and turns to the only option left; the hallway is far from the main event and strictly off limits to anyone that’s not the Huenings. You wouldn’t, he thinks to himself, eyes narrowing at the portraits that seem to glare down at him, you’d never. 

From the distance, he sees someone approaching: a boy seemingly younger than him, with dark hair and bangs that have been neatly swept away from his face— his face is twisted into a stressed expression, eyes darting back and forth as though in search of something; it is only when he’s a few feet away from Beomgyu that the boy seems to spot him.

A myriad of emotions seems to flash through his eyes— panic, concern, worry— only to settle on a curiosity that swims in the deep, brown irises, like honey that threatens to trap Beomgyu in. He watches as the younger wrings his hands absentmindedly, hidden beneath the sleeves of his suit— Beomgyu remembers him as Hueningkai.

“You’re… son of the Choi family,” he begins, gulping nervously and scanning the said boy’s appearance, “right?”

“Choi Beomgyu.” is all he cares to respond, too impatient to deal with any distractions.

Looking over the younger’s shoulder, he continues to gaze down the hall, as though searching for any movement. Hueningkai hesitates before he speaks again. 

“Choi Beomgyu…” Hueningkai murmurs, the formality of his tone causing Beomgyu’s gaze to snap back down to him.

“I need your help.”

[chocosea]

Article Title: プリキュアの“恋愛描写”は20年間でどう変わった？　「彼氏」すら表現できなかったプリキュアがわんぷりで「カップル誕生」を描けるまでに至った理由

What has changed in 20 years of Precure's depictions of romance? Reasons behind the change from seasons that couldn't include boyfriends to the birth of a couple in Wonderful Precure

Some basic summary of this post written by Kasumi, the guy who keeps track of Precure sales and makes handy graphs and whatnot.

The beginning of this article is summary of Wonderful Precure's Satoiro developments.

Later in the article, there's some quotes from Narita. Summarized: After the first few seasons, the response they got from parents was that they would prefer not to have romance because the girls watching this were like 3, 4 years old. So it was a taboo to write about romantic relationships.

The first few seasons were about falling in love with older boys shoujo manga-style, then we have Fresh's whole "I'm not telling you my answer" ending.

In Happiness Charge Narita was uncertain about whether they should do romance as one of the main themes but Nagamine wanted to go for it. So they did a love triangle as one of the main writing setups. Narita still asked multiple times if it was okay to write what she was writing. When Megumi lost in love at the end of the series it became a big topic.

After Happiness Charge they took a step back again and romance barely features besides crushes that don't go anywhere.

This changed in Hugtto when Homare gets turned down by Harry, and Hana's whole thing with George (aka her future schrodinger's evil husband).

None of these depictions are like focused on romance as something that actually leads to a mutual, intentional relationship.

Tropirouge was made specifically to have 0 romance

Black Pepper was created with the idea that he was supposed to work with the girls to save each other rather than just saving them from a pinch. His feelings were only written in to add a bit of spice to the show. But he signals a shift from possible love interests being a prince you admire to a partner that fights with you.

Every season that has served as a turning point in Precure's depiction of romance has had Narita in charge of series composition (Happiness Charge, Otona, and Wonderful).

Article mentions that while before it was unthinkable for idols and actors to have romantic partners, in the 2020 era it's become more normal for actors and TV talent to declare that they're dating and for idols to continue their idol work while being married.

プリキュアでも、かつては「コクる」「彼氏」という言葉1つだけでも保護者から大ブーイングだった時代がありました。

In Precure as well, there was an era where the words "confession" or "boyfriend" were met with loud booing from guardians.

But the times and mindsets have changed so now we have a married Precure and a Precure with a boyfriend.

梅澤　実は大ブーイングでした。「コクる」「彼氏」というセリフも評判が悪かったです。中学生だから、必然性があるから、大丈夫というわけじゃない。両親が観せたくない��品になっては『プリキュア』じゃない、と痛感しました。 ぴあ『プリキュアぴあ』（P87）

This quote is basically what was just summarized above. In addition to the booing thing, Umezawa (producer for Fresh, Heartcatch, Suite) says that he realized that if they wrote things that parents wouldn't want to show their kids then it wouldn't be Precure

So I guess parent opposition is indeed a big reason why they've been avoiding romance. But nowadays:

Satoiro has been massively popular with elementary school girls.

The target range for Precure has risen now also with the cosmetics and the like, ranging from elementary schoolers to young women.

We should expect to see more depictions of romantic love in Precure in the future.

"Change is Precure's strong point."

[dizzrespect]

🎀 Carrying Stu Machers Child 🎀

warnings; mentions of birth, mentions of smut

this man just loved to breed you. And to be fair, you loved it too. So it wasn’t really a surprise that your period was lacking for over a month now.

When you bought the pregnancy tests you were nervous at first. You didn’t tell Stu, because you were a little anxious about what he‘ll say. You‘re still both in high school and it wasn’t really the goal for both of you to drop out as teenie parents.

When you took the test you were at his place. You’re always at his place since you found out that his parents just kind of abandoned him there.

You were just checking the result window when your boyfriend chimes into the bathroom. It’s a bad habit of his, he never minds if you’re currently pooping or just washing your hands in there. If he wants to be with you, he does.

He doesn’t even realize what’s going on at first, bragging about something Randy told him. When he finally sees the little white pen looking thing in your hands, he stops mid sentence.

"What do you have there, angel?"

When you silently show him the pregnancy test he snatches it from you, checking the result window with a frown.

"You‘re pregnant?", he whispers, looking at you with a baffled expression.

You just nod quietly, suddenly feeling a little ashamed.

The next moment you‘re scooped up into his arms. He spins you around like a little whirlwind and chuckles happily.

"I‘m going to be a dad!", he cheers, smile brighter than ever.

while you’re pregnant

Stu is still the goofy, lighthearted guy you fell in love with

but now he carries all your books and your school bag in school… well, he’s constantly carrying something for you

constantly talking to your belly like an idiot

he always makes sure that you‘ve eaten enough and that you’re hydrated

he even cooks for you

he‘s more protective than ever, always one arm around you or touching you in other little ways

pregnancy sex? yes. of course.

but there’s no position where you don’t face him anymore. he mostly fucks you in missionary, now.

deep and slow with intertwined fingers, pressing your hands into the sheets while he‘s constantly kissing some part of your pretty face or neck

"Is it safe for the baby?", because this idiot thinks his dick is big enough to poke his mini me inside the warmth of your womb

the birth

this idiot somehow managed to come with you into labour

he holds your hand and supports you

little forehead kisses

he eyes the midwifes, ready to fight them if necessary (it’s not necessary, he’s just overprotective)

he offers you water every now and then

when you struggle the first time a sly grin appears on his lips

"damn, angel, I did a great job, huh?"

he shut his mouth after you yelled at him and called him offending names like "stupid idiot"

he doesn’t mind, though. and he stays by your side nonetheless cuz he is, in fact, a stupid idiot sometimes and he appreciates that you still choose to stay with him, to have his child

when the midwives inform him that the little head peaks out he steps closer to have a look

did you thought he would faint? yes.

but he just stands there in awe, eyes sparkling as he watches how you press out the little being you both created

the midwives take the baby and wrap it up in a soft towel, handing it carefully to Stu, who smiles in awe at his little daughter

he steps to you and carefully hands you the little girl

"I want another one", he says which makes you glare at him, holding the little wonder in your arms

[fictioninmyblood]

King Consort pt. 3

Summary: ‘Queen of the Damned’ esq, Terry’s disciplined restraint awakens a queen of the damned. Maha, daughter of Akasha, is awoken on a half moon night when the sun kisses the moon in the light of day. After surviving the bloodshed and corruption of Shelby Springs without shedding the blood he wanted, Terry finds himself under the gaze of a goddess whose thirst for balance in all things can suddenly only be quenched by his company. How did he get here? Does he ever really wanna leave?

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, the snowball is starting to go downhill and outta my control, smut, this man is haunting my dreams.

A/N: Sorry yawl, this was supposed to be a short thing but the story is taking me on a journey now. Part 4 otw.

Terry made sure that Maha leaned against him with her back against his chest, staying silent until he felt her relax all the way. He had a feeling that she had only been showing him the tender care that she’d been missing for who knows how long. He was more than happy to soothe the hardness in him by gently cupping the softness of one of her breasts in one hand and her plush belly in the other. As she rested in his embrace, head reclined into the crook of his neck and her eyes closed, he watched as the furrow in her brow completely disappeared. He didn’t know why that was what finally got him to relax himself, but he was grateful for the ease that seemed to grace both of their souls. This intimacy was just what the doctor had ordered for them both. So they basked in it for a long while, lost to time moving forward for it felt that they had frozen it just to enjoy this moment.

“You know,” Terry said as he moved his hand from gently squishing her breast to grasping her throat to tilt her head up at him his other hand still resting against her womb, “I should know the name of the goddess that’s brought me all this way.”

“Maha, my king,” she rasped out, voice filled with yearning and lust as her eyes fluttered open to hold his gaze mirroring the emotions swirling within her.

He lifted the left side of his mouth in a half smirk, wondering what she had been imagining to sound like that.

“What does it mean love?”

Maha cleared her throat a little and tried to look away to gather herself unsuccessfully when Terry tightened his grip ever so slightly. “My parents named me after Ma’at, in a time when many new languages were arriving to Kemet. Arabic and Sanskrit had been popular at the time so my mother chose Maha which means half moon in one language and mighty in the other. She always told me that Ma’at was the epitome of a half moon, capable of simultaneously showing and hiding her might, as soft and unyielding as the water the moon controlled.” Maha gulped at the look in Terry’s eyes, she didn’t know how this explanation had riled him, but it added to the yearning that pulsed through her body.

“I don’t think they could’ve chosen a better name. You hold the keys to both heaven and hell, don’t you?”

Maha shrugged her way out of his arms, suddenly feeling on fire with the way he seemed to look through her, see her past without fear but fascination, and stood to try and regain the composure that seemed to constantly flee under his gaze, “I have my moments.” She chewed on her bottom lip and tried to think of how to get out of this intense moment, but wasn’t given much time to be able to. Terry followed her easily, holding her against him in the same way, one hand against where her womb lie and the other gently grasping her throat to lift her face to meet his own.

“No my queen, you do. I could tell with that first dream that you had been sent from the other side blessed by the natural balance of this universe. Then upon my arrival you washed me in that very balance, somehow rousing and appeasing both the restrained man I am and the beast I have struggled to keep under lock and key my entire life. You’ve already made living with this beast more bearable than anything or anyone I’ve tried until this point, wrapping us in all that you are so that we have come to a state of what I daresay is collective peace. I feel at home lil mama, something that has eluded me for far too long. I am blessed to be in your presence, let alone have the opportunity to bring you great pleasure, peace, and love - maybe one day even to become your protector.”

Her breath had quickened at his words. No man had ever saw her so clearly before, had welcomed the pleasure she could produce and the hell she could raise with such clarity and disregard for their own well-being. All she had told him was her name and he seemed to read the pages of her life and longing with just that. Everything this man did and said made her believe more and more that she had truly found her king. That realization terrified her for the first time in her life she thought, true fear was not a known emotion, she had walked in the pits of night before she was ever gifted immortality. It took entirely too long for her to identify this emotion of hopeful fear twisting its way through her veins, but once she had it became nearly unbearable.

Maha tried again to move out of Terry’s grasp, but his hold tightened the longer she not-so-subtly fought to remove herself from his embrace. Terry scrutinized her face as she continued this futile attempt to stop the moment they’d been having with no problems until she started obviously overthinking and was surprised to see tears being held at bay. What had he done in these last moments to have gotten his goddess so afraid all of sudden? Terry held her closer, tighter, moving his hand so that his entire arm wrapped around her torso. He enveloped her in him and he prayed that whatever he was made of could help this woman heal and trust that she could hope for a better forever. She could trust that he was the right man to hope for those dreams again with. 

Her parents had given her the ultimate princess’ dream of life, even in the afterlife she was given choices and time to see that their love for each other survived. Blood spilled aside, they were a unit and that is the picture of her future she drew from as she finally accepted joining them. It had been the one thing she hoped to find for herself and she envied about her parents until her mother murdered him for some white boy and here this fine ass black man was making the nearly forgotten little girl awaken within. She always wanted a black prince, just like her baba and here the universe had brought a black king. Trying to escape the best way she knew how, she wondered if he could make his way up a tree to get her down just as her dad had done so many times.

Terry got out to put a towel around his waist and held one open for Maha as she got out, wrapping her up like a burrito with her arms tucked by her side. He easily scooped her into his arms and walked them into the bedroom, gently laying Maha onto the bed so he could grab the oil he seen her with earlier. Maha was trying to gently wiggle her way out of the towel to no avail when Terry came back into the room shouting a quick ‘aht aht’ that instantly stilled her movements, but quickened the heart rate in her pussy even more. God this man was making a mess of her and it was always when he wasn’t really doing anything. Maha didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

“Let me take care of you for a little bit mamas. No moving.” Terry said as he sat on the bed, dipping her body closer to him from the shift in weight.

“But you need to be taken care of more than me. You’re the human and I’m supposed to be doing that!” Maha whined. He was destroying all the plans she had of catering to him and getting him to really relax enough to give her the opportunity to see more of him than he’d usually show. Yes she wanted his beast but she had no idea how effective the subtle softness of how they were wrapped together to urge her towards submission was at producing results she’d never experienced. The more and more he drew her in with those fucking eyes that stormed like a hurricane in the bayous that had arrived from the islands the harder it was for her to try to even stop complying.

“This is you taking care of me,” Terry said with a smirk as he moved Maha with ease, somehow getting the towel from around her and turning her onto her stomach, all while keeping the towel tucked under her. He leaned in to peck the scrunch in between her eyebrows and said, “relax, please my queen, let me take care of you the way we want to.”

Maha’s pout quickly turned into a bite of her lip as Terry held eye contact leaning on one arm while he rubbed her butt with the other one. She started to look away but Terry was quick to catch her face and bring her eyes back to his.

“You know I got you, right?” he asked, maintaining that position, holding her face and rubbing that same asscheek.

They held that moment for what seemed like forever to Maha, she felt as if he was filling in a picture of what the rest of the universe that she hadn’t seen yet looked like, just by being the one to have her here, like this, as a human. A unique and well match indeed if she’d yet to exchange any kind of offerings and they had only just started. Just as the rest of her thoughts were helping her run away from her body and how he seemed to have her locked in a spell, Terry lifted his hand and popped her hard as hell. The glazed look she once had locked back into the moment and refocused on those fucking eyes and it took all the millenia she had survived to control her body from cumming. By the time she opened her eyes again, not remembering that she had even closed them, Terry had a self-satisfied smirk that did not bode well for her future. Where the fuck has this man been all her life?

Terry calmly went back to massaging that same cheek as he continued on like he didn’t just probably leave a bruise and almost make her cum without using all of his strength but still more than he’s probably used on anyone else. “That’s okay my goddess,” he kissed the spot that was still tingling, “I’m a different kind of man,” his voice turned almost unrecognizably gruff, “and I have a different kind of a beast.” He pulled away and said, “now you just lay right there and let me work mama.”

As he stood holding eye contact and grasped his towel with an, “I mean it mama,” Maha gulped and nodded. She was not prepared for the growth that Terry seemed to have had since last she got a close look at his crown jewels. Everything about him seemed… 

“I’m just gonna get myself first.”

“But-”

“Aht, you got me earlier, it’s my turn now,” Terry continued as he oiled his body and stretched a little while he watched Maha as she looked at him and got a gradually thirstier and thirstier by the look in her eyes.

“But my king, I still need to feed you the food I prepared!” Maha whined a little more earning a hard glare and internal promise to himself to add to her punishments for the evening.

“You will be feeding me everything you prepared for me.”

Maha gulped again at the way he emphasized ‘everything’ while maintaining eye contact and oiling his very full and definitely throbbing dick and balls. She wanted him to empty everything into her, to take his seed and keep it and him warm. Now! But As she stared him and that beautiful body down from head to toe, he was going to make her wait for both.

“Yes my king.”

Terry was pleased with his handiwork but he was scared too. He never lets Shadow out of his cage unless it’s absolutely necessary but Shadow was urging him to, she was worth it, she was necessary. It seemed too easy to him, especially since it was so hard to keep his cape buffalo side, a gift from his father, pleased enough to accept any woman. He’d had a short, albeit wild history considering that he was half were and not usually accepted by other supernatural beings. They always underestimated him, she didn’t though he thought as he looked at her with his arms folded and his eyes doing everything they could to pierce her soul.

“My king? May I ask a question.” Maha asked externally while internally, she was wondering what the hell happened to her voice. It was all whispery and meek, like she could be crushed beneath this mere man. Was he a man?

“Oh, now you want to ask me for permission. My goddess, I am happy to cater to you and I am truly glad that you’re already self-correcting, but tonight we’re going to have a conversation about boundaries and permission.”

“Yes my king, but may I still ask?” She looked up at him with this heartbreakingly sweet and soft look combined with a voice that was making him leak from his tip and a piece of his heart leak through the cracks in his beast.

He growled out, “fine,” but it was her responding bright smile and ‘thank you’ that nearly made the man completely buckle and worship at her feet.

“Is there a reason you’re getting bigger my king? I wasn’t sure of it earlier, but something is definitely different and your blood was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted or been able to be sustained from. I hadn’t realized it since it’s been so long.”

He smiled at her observations. “I was wondering if you would notice. Have you come across any weres in your time?”

She smiled and nodded.

“I’m only half were so it presents especially when I’m ready to mate and other special occasions,” he said eyeing the entirety of her being. Usually I’d be afraid to let Shadow out like this but I have a feeling you’ve been waiting for him as much as me.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she answered with a tone and twin smoldering look that nearly lit his restraint on fire.

Fed up with her teasing tugs on control of what happened next, Terry moved to her otherside and gave her left asscheek the same treatment as the right. He was pleased that she held herself together cause that smack came with a little more Shadow than the last one. 

“I’m glad to see you were listening to the lesson. We’ll do very well little one if you keep up this good girl behaviour.”

Terry got on top of Maha, letting his dick slide between her cheeks and transfer some of the oil from him onto her, half holding himself up with one hand in a one-handed pushup while he held her throat tightly, squeezing the sides and asserting the right pressure to have her eyes go rolling.

“But you keep testing the boundaries anymore, keep pushing my limits, keep poking the beast, you gon’ fuck around and find out. But when I give it to you so good you can’t speak, I don’t wanna hear or feel nothing other than you taking it, I make myself clear?” Terry finished with one lick up the side of her face and a bite to her jaw.

Maha nodded and tried not to wiggle or cum or even breath too hard. This was a certainly a well match.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I hate when I get into these phases when once I process through one thing causing me anxiety there's another thing right behind it

[musette22]

Hellooo, it's me, I'm alive! Sorry for disappearing again this weekend, I hope everyone had a great one! 💛 Mine was really really wonderful, so, time to overshare because I'm feeling all mushy and tired but happy. These past few days made me realize once again how lucky I am to have so many incredible people in my life 💕 I love them SO much and I'm so grateful they love me too, which sounds cheesy but it's true 😅

I don't think anyone particularly needs these, but I still want to share some of the stuff my friends and family have said and done this weekend just because they're pretty amazing and I kind of wanted to write it down to remember it (I'll put most of it under the cut though, because it got longer than I anticipated. whoops, who's surprised, not me either)

So my friend's little boy, who is three, got a little confused about pronouns while he was chatting away, and accidentally called me a 'he'. His mom gently corrected him like, "No honey, auntie Minnie is a she." And when he asked why, she said "Because Minnie feels like a she. What do you feel like?" And he gave it some thought and said "I think I feel like a he", so she said, "Well, there you go, we'll call you a he then! But if you feel like a she later on, or auntie Minnie feels like a he, then that's also okay. Does that make sense?" And he looked thoughtful for a second, said "Yep", and carried on playing.

Later that day my other friend picked up her almost one year old, looked at his little face and said "I'm pretty sure he's either going to be a construction worker or a drag queen. Maybe both." And then kissed his nose and told him she'd love him regardless of what he'd become.

I was talking to the husband of one of my friends (who is my friend too, but I knew her first), and out of the blue he asked me, "What kind of music do you like to listen to? I know you like Arctic Monkeys, but what else do you like?" So I told him I listen to a lot of 40s and 50s music, among other things, and then the conversation carried on. And then later that night, Billie Holiday suddenly came on, followed by Chet Baker, and it turned out he'd actually made a whole playlist of 40s music because he realised he'd been playing a lot of recent popular music during the getaway so far, and he wanted me to hear something I liked too

At some point I was talking to the husband of my other friend, and when he asked me whether I'd been seeing anyone lately, I kind of shrugged and told him that it isn't really a priority for me right now, that I'm not excluding the possiblity of dating or starting a family, but I'm not actively looking for it either. He just clinked his beer bottle with mine and said, "Cool, that makes a lot of sense. We don't all have to follow the same path in life to be happy, right?" And I was already grateful that he got it, but then he was quiet for a minute and said, "Shit, I'm sorry, I bet you're fed up with people asking you about dating and kids. It's literally no one's business but yours and I'm sure that if you ever want to talk about it, you'll let us know. I won't ask again."

At some point, my friend suddenly dropped down onto the couch next to me, put her arm around me and said "My god, I feel like we've only talked about kids all weekend, sorry about that." So I assured her I didn't mind at all (I adore those kids, I really do), and she was like, "Still, tell me about what you're reading right now, and while you're at it, please show me the cutest picture of Chris you saw this week," and then she spent a while cooing over my boys with me in return.

I was sitting next to my other friends' three year old little girl in the car on put way back from visiting a nearby castle, and she was super impressed and a little overwhelmed in that way kids have sometimes. She kept wondering aloud whether 'the princess' had been at home, and whether, if she'd ever meet her, the princess would want to be her friend. So I told her that of course the princess would want to be her friend, probably even best friends, and then she laughed and said "No silly, you're my best friend" and hugged me, and I kind of melted into a puddle

During brunch today, I was telling a story about how when I was jogging recently, I thought I was being followed by a guy on a scooter, and that I'd stopped to send my mom my location because I was genuinely a little scared. As it turned out, the guy just wanted directions, so I laughed it off and told the story as a joke, but then my brother frowned and said, "No, but it's not okay that you can't even go on a run without feeling scared just because you're a woman", and then told me he read an article recently about the precautions many women necessarily have to take whenever they go out or go on a date, like location sharing, or faking phonecalls, or bringing pepper spray, because we often fear for our safety in a way that men rarely have to. And then he said he'd never realised that before, apologised to me, his girlfriend and my mom on behalf of men in general, and said he wished we'd never have to deal with any of that

I was talking to my mom while we were on a walk, and she told me about an old friend she'd run into recently. So I asked her how they knew each other, and she proceeded to tell me a story about how in the 80s, they used to do sit-ins together to demonstrate for immigrants' and unemployed people's rights. When I asked her if she'd never been worried about getting arrested or anything like that, she just shrugged and said "Not really, because I knew that we were doing it for the right reasons and that was what mattered most."

Anyway, I know they're all little things and they should all be normal things, but I'm aware that they aren't always, or everywhere, or for everyone. And they just made me stop and marvel at how wonderful these people all are, big and small, how comfortable and at ease I feel around all of them, and how amazing it is that they not only exist and work to make the world a better place, but they also care about me in return. Like, not to sound like a hippie, but whoa, I'm feeling a lot of love and gratitude right now ❤️

[astral-catastrophe]

Shoutout to all the eldest daughters who had to basically raise their siblings. You’ve done the best you can, and I’m proud of you

[inannasdream]

its been almost a year and i still haven't watched the last episode matpat hosted for game theory. i just couldn't and still can't bring myself to watch a video that shows with no room for misinterpretation that that part of my life is far in the past. i hadn't even been watching more than like a handful of gt vids a year for years at that point and i still couldn't watch that last episode. i want to at least watch the final live stream he hosted for gtlive this week but i also can't bring myself to even click on it. like i watched a bit of the first episode ash hosted on their own and i still haven't watched the aforementioned stream. instead i have been rewatching the vods from the first couple eras of gtlive bc those are the ones that really stuck with me ever since i started watching gtlive in like 2016. thanks matt and steph for making me not want to kill myself. jason and chris you guys were there too.

[birdantlers]

A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

another childhood friends to lovers believer???? YES YES YES!!!! can i please request bakugou and reader moving in together, and reader shows him a memory box she's kept since they were kids...like photos, random trinkets he got her, pressed flowers, birthday cards...and he's like one second away from bursting into tears, because this is 2 decades worth of love (and many more to come) 😭🥹💗 thank you, mwah x 💖

memory box !

you take a trip down memory lane..

a/n : OH. MY GOD. I literally Had to write this this is genuinely adorable anon you are SMACKING. i lub this

cw: literally all fluff, CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TORAGAHAHEHG, katsuki gets emotional quickly and i live by this, lmk if i missed sum !

“oi !” katsuki calls out from behind you “do i throw this out or not ?”

you look back, only to see a little red box in his hands. your little red box.

you shoot up, dropping the clothes you were stacking in your shared dresser. “no, don’t!” you reach out and hold your arms up, katsuki looks even more confused, eyebrows furrowing harder.

he shakes your box around, bringing his ear to it to hear the rattling and clinking of the objects inside. “what the hell is in this thing ?”

“don’t shake it around like that !” you shriek, ripping the box out of your boyfriend hands and leaving him shocked. you smile to yourself, slowly sitting down on the wooden floors of your new apartment. your new apartment with katsuki.

“i never actually showed you this, huh.. ?” you watch as he follows you after a moment of looking at you like you’ve grown a second head, crouching down next to you with eyes fixed on your little shoe box. you remove the lid and immediately a sense of nostalgia shoots through you, you hadn’t looked at this for a while now.

“this is my memory box, i’ve had it for years.. i think since i was..what, seven ?” you wonder out loud, you’d definitely had it for a long, long time. katsuki sits next to you silently while you excitedly look through it.

“oh yeah, definitely seven—look this is the friendship bracelet i made for us !” you exclaim excitedly. it’s definitely more than a bit worn, that was the main reason you put it in this box, it was the first item you’d put in there.

you’d made one for you and one for katsuki, using your precious loom band box set you’d gotten for christmas. you’d used up all of your orange and black for it and worn yours until it started fraying. you almost cried when one of the bands snapped and you’d gotten too big for it, or it had just gotten too little for you. you refused to throw it away and found a random empty shoe box to put it in, and the rest was history.

“oh, and these are left over tickets from when we went to the fair, my keychain you got me from the aquarium—i remember you begged your mom for it.” you laugh, begged was an understatement. you remember how mitsuki pulled him away because he was causing a scene, you didn’t understand why he was so insistent on getting a souvenir, you had a good day as you all walked around looking at fish and katsuki dragging you around by the hand like he built the place himself. you remember how excited he got when you got to the shark exhibit.

you didn’t get it, until he stopped you when you were ready to leave with your own parents, grabbing you by the back of your shirt and avoiding your gaze as he stretched his little arms out and wordlessly offered you a little penguin keychain, mumbling something about how you looked happy when you saw them, ears pink while his mom smirked behind him, his father smiled down at you both kindly.

that was the first present he’d ever bought for you. with his mom’s money of course, you giggle at your own thoughts. but he’d still gotten it for you because he thought it’d make you happy. it was your treasure and you wore it on your bag for years until it started getting dirty, and you’d hid it in your shoebox to keep it safe.

you suddenly realize your boyfriend’s been awfully unlike himself for the past few minutes, silently blinking at the contents of your box and now at your little keychain.

you suddenly feel a bit self conscious, maybe he thought it was weird..

you blink in surprise when he reaches for your penguin chain and you offer it to him. it’s a bit brownish now, having lost its shine over the years. he runs his thumb over the fuzzy faux fur.

“thought you forgot about this..” he mumbles to himself.

your eyes shoot wide. “wha—no way ?!”

“ya stopped wearing it on your bag so i thought you got rid of it.” he doesn’t look angry, simply observing the chain, letting it dangle in the air.

“i just didn’t want it to get any dirtier than it clearly already is” you joked. you’re in deep now, shuffling around for more items in your box. katsuki joins you this time, pulling out an old picture.

“holy shit.” he breathes. you catch a peek at what he’s looking at only to see the both of you.

“woah, we were so small !” you giggle. it was a picture of your grade school entrance ceremony. you remember katsuki stubbornly refusing to take it and it took his mom about ten minutes to get him to stay put and take the shot. you’re all smiles, waving at the camera like you’d been instructed to and gripping katsuki’s hand. said little boy had an angry, angry frown on his face, sticking his tongue out at the camera.

“you’re cheeks were huge.” you laugh, katsuki sits down properly to nudge your shoulder with a huff. “shaddup,” he says, though there was no real bite to his words. “you weren’t any better than me.” you laugh some more and continue to pull things out. “where’d you even get this ?” he asks.

“your mom gave me a copy.”

“fuckin—of course she did.”

there’s a blurry picture you’d managed to take of katsuki when you’d gotten your first polaroid camera, and some pictures from when you’d convinced him to get in a photo-booth from your first date at the fair. dozens of birthday cards he’d written for you, you’re tempted to read them all right now but you worry katsuki might get embarrassed and actually throw the box out, so you’ll do that later.

the flowers he’d plucked out of the ground one random afternoon at his house, a rock he'd given you because it looked cool, a couple of seashells you found at the beach together, a dried up four leaf clover he claimed would bring you good luck, the container of the lip balm you were wearing when he kissed you for the first time. years worth of memories all in your little shoebox.

“fuck, you really kept all this stuff..” you hear katsuki mutter. you turn to see him still with that elementary school picture in hand, staring at it thoughtfully.

“course i did.” you hum, leaning against his side. “i spent all of my childhood with you suki, that’s unforgettable to me. i wanted to make sure i wouldn’t ever forget how much you mean to me.” katsuki’s eyes fix yours as you continue talking. and you realize how they slowly turn glossier. he realizes when you do and quickly ducks his head, scoffing to himself but a sniffle slips out.

“hey..” he shakes his head, you don’t continue, only reaching to hold him in your palms. he shoves his cheek against one, chuckling to himself.

“shush.” he mutters, voice cracking, his eyes remain shut to not let anything slip. he presses a kiss to your skin, grabbing at your wrist. "you're gonna be the fuckin' end of me, y'know ?" you laugh, rubbing your thumb against his skin, you feel him sigh against your palm.

"love you."

you smile "i love you too" you whisper back. "so, you still wanna throw it out ?" you joke, katsuki's eyebrows furrow.

"fuck, no." he asserts "it's staying here, an' i'll give you more shit to fill it up with."

and you truly couldn't be more excited, starting a new chapter of your life with the boy that had shared it all with you. you want your shoe box to be filled to the brim with more and more memories of you both, all of them just as close to your heart as the last.

"hmm," you hum "can't wait."

taglist :

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

[evilminji]

"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy

He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.

Paulie's parents were PISSED.

Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.

And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.

So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.

But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?

Entranced.

In AWE.

Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.

But still, he's about to say "no", when?

Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.

SOLD!

It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?

Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?

Not even as Ghosts, man.

They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.

Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!

So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!

The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!

What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?

Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!

DO BETTER!

And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.

And it's one hell of Fake Hero!

A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!

Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...

The Town website?

Weirdly? Sanitized.

Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....

Wait...

Hey, guuuuys?

Are you finding ANYTHING?

And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.

All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.

But how about thousands?

Hundreds of thousands?

From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.

Not a meme.

Very real.

Not a joke.

The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!

Phantom is REAL!

And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.

Here to help.

A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.

A... a once living star.

And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.

And now? The weather!

@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[fastandcarlos]

The Perfect Ride : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: you can't help but wonder what you were thinking putting heels on, but as the pain nags away at you, luckily you've got lando there to offer his services

Lando struggled to hold back his laughter as he glanced back again, watching as you tentatively walked, holding onto anything around you for support. In theory, wearing heels to dinner at his parents was a great idea, but now you were suffering and walking each step full of regret. 

“Please tell me we’ve not got that much longer to go,” you sighed as Lando walked towards you and closed the distance between you both. “I can’t believe you let me leave the house in heels.” 

Finally a chuckle escaped from Lando, having asked you several times before you left the house whether you were sure you wanted to wear them. You were confident that things would be fine, brushing Lando aside despite how vocal he was with his concerns for you. 

“I told you so,” he shrugged, allowing you to rest your hand against his shoulder to steady yourself. “I was serious when I said you should’ve left the house in your crocs.” 

“Sure, I’m your parents would’ve loved me showing up in my crocs, are you actually insane Lan?” 

With Lando holding onto you, you started walking again, wincing every single time your foot hit the floor. You were keen to make a good impression, having only met Lando’s parents a handful of times, but now you knew that impressing them was not as important as being comfortable. 

Lando’s arm snaked around your waist as he walked at your pace, encouraging you to keep moving, trying his best to distract you from the pain in your feet. 

“Sorry that I’m taking so long,” you told Lando, glancing across and meeting his eyes. “We probably could’ve been home by now if I wasn’t wearing these stupid things. This is ridiculous.” 

Lando offered you a sympathetic smile, “it’s pretty nice weather tonight, I’m quite happy being out here and admiring the beautiful sunset, I don’t mind.” 

“Nice try trying to make me feel a little less guilty.” 

“I’m being serious,” Lando tried his best to assure you, “when was the last time we got to take a slow walk and just soak in our surroundings for a little while?” 

You stopped again, letting go of a deep breath. “It would be nice to be able to do that without feeling like I want to get a saw and chop both of my feet off.” 

Your confession had Lando giggling, as much as he sympathised with how you were feeling, he was struggling to keep himself composed and supportive amongst all of your dramatics.  

Despite how nice you wanted to look, Lando never wanted you to make the effort at a cost. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to suffer just for him, to look good for him, he wouldn’t have cared if you showed up in your pyjamas, just having you there with his family was more than enough for him.  

“We might still be here to see the sunrise too if we carry on like this,” Lando smiled, trying his best to bring a smile back to your face. 

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re starting to enjoy this?” You challenged, narrowing your eyes in Lando’s direction. “I might just bin them and walk bare foot for the rest of the way home instead.” 

Lando’s head shook, picking you up as soon as you bent down to undo the buckle of your shoe. “You can’t do that, it’s not safe baby. I’ve got a different idea that might be able to solve your problem though?” 

You watched as Lando stood in front of you, tapping against his back, inviting you to jump up. “Are you being serious?” You laughed, watching as he looked over his shoulder at you, nodding his head. “You think you can piggyback me home?” 

“I do actually want to get home at some point tonight.” 

Lando tapped his back again, feeling your hands hold onto his shoulders. You counted down before jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his hands go underneath your knees to lift you up and keep you secure as your arms draped in front of Lando’s chest. 

“See,” he smiled, immediately starting to walk with you comfortably resting against him. “It doesn’t even feel like I’m carrying anything on my back you’re so light.” 

“You are such a liar Lando Norris.” 

“I’m serious,” he chuckled, walking at a much quicker pace than he had done whilst you were on your feet too. “All you need to do is relax and enjoy the ride and let me worry about making sure you get home in one piece tonight.” 

Your head nodded as you took a look around the street, figuring out whereabouts you were. “Have I ever told you how much of a hero you are? Always saving the day for me.” 

“That’s just what boyfriends are for, right?” Lando laughed in response. 

Sure, in a relationship you were supposed to be looked after, but Lando always seemed to find a way to go above and beyond. If you were ever stuck, he was always there to help you with the right answer to fix things.  

Your smile was wide as Lando continued walking, it was surprisingly comfortable up on his back, making the most of not having to worry about the ache in your feet for a little while. 

“I hope you know how important you are to receive treatment like this, I don’t offer a piggyback to anyone you know,” Lando smirked, breaking the silence between you both. 

You hummed back at him, finding yourself beginning to get sleepy. Lando could feel your head beginning to weigh down on top of his own, hearing your breaths get a little heavier as you struggled to keep your eyes open. A smile crept onto Lando’s face, relieved to feel and hear how comfortable you were. 

“Don’t be falling asleep on me up there,” he teased, “I can’t walk the rest of the way home talking to myself, people will think I’m weird if they hear that.” 

“I’m awake, I promise,” you assured him, fighting the urge to close your eyes, trying your best to focus on something to stay awake. 

Lando glanced up questionably back at you, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would hear you falling asleep, knowing when he got home it would be his job to get you tucked into bed and try not to wake you up.  

“Are we almost home?” You asked Lando, not quite sure how much longer you could hold on for, feeling sleep getting closer with every second that passed. 

“Don’t worry about that, close your eyes if you want to love,” Lando smiled, “I don’t mind if you do, I’ll just sing to myself for the rest of the way home. 

You nodded in reply to Lando, “thank you for always being there for me and helping me, I really do appreciate it Lando.” 

“I know you do,” Lando whispered, “but you never have to thank me, I love being the one that gets to take care of you.” 

“And you do such a good job of it too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[madamtrashbat]

When I was ten, we lived on a rice farm with a lot of big buildings in the middle of nowhere. One of the shitty employees of the rice farm decided that, because we had barn cats on the premises, it was perfectly fine to dump a litter of very small kittens into one of the barns.

(I hate her I hate her I hate her)

The kittens were not old enough to be on their own, and despite one of the barn cats looking after them, the majority of them did not make it. All except for one, a little tuxedo that let my dad pick it up.

He brought it into the house, and I decided I was going to nurse it back to health. He was mostly black with a white chin, little white toes, and a white belly. He was so small. I fell in love with him.

I named him Pookie.

He would curl up in the crook of my neck and sleep on my shoulder, where it was warm. He was eating the cat food I mushed up with water, and for three days I thought he might make it.

Then, inexplicably, our dog Fancy, a heeler/shepherd mix, attacked him in the laundry room. She had never done anything like that before and never did anything like that afterwards. I never knew why she did what she did.

I begged my parents to take him to the vet. Please, see if there's anything we can do. I want to save him so badly.

But we had very little money at the time, and my mom couldn't justify an enormous vet bill for a cat we'd had for less than a week that there was surely nothing to do for.

I put him in his basket that night with food and water and many blankets. He had no external injuries besides a nosebleed, so I hoped it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

He didn't see the morning. My dad buried him in the flowerbed without much ado.

I cried for two days into the arms of an unsympathetic mother who didn't understand why I felt so strongly over a cat we'd had for three days, bombarded with criticism from a judgmental sister who severely disliked cats. My dad did his best to try and comfort me, but he's not the best with emotions and didn't know what to say.

It has stuck with me for 20 years. I wonder, from time to time, if I did enough. If I'd kept him in my room instead of the laundry room, if I'd looked up how to care for him, if I'd kept closer watch on him and kept the dog away from him, would he have lived. Would he still have been my cat. Would he have known a life of love and warm fireplaces and full bellies and cuddling into my shoulders until he was too big to fit.

I'll never know.

I told Sawyer about this recently, in a moment of emotional upheaval where I was just spewing out a list of things that had happened in my past that I'd never really gotten over. The conviction of my sadness apparently struck a deep chord with Sawyer, who decided to make me a memorial for Pookie to keep his memory close.

No one else had taken my emotions regarding Pookie seriously. Not until now. And not only did Sawyer take it seriously, the emotional vomit of an adult woman still crying over a cat she had for three days in fifth grade, but Sawyer thought it important enough that it should never be forgotten.

It's nice, sometimes, to know the person you've chosen to go through life with is the best person in the world for you.