#yeah I just needed to get this out of my system

[tidalblazex]

Medical doctor, licensed practitioner, who gets to use Dr. And m.d. officially, having spent countless years working to obtain their medical license: so I think this medication would be best according to my countless years of knowledge and experience. Here's the information like side effects and drug interactions to look over, make sure you're OK with all that

Patient, after reading through everything: yeah that looks good, I think that all sounds good

MD: Excellent, I'll get that prescription up and then we can get you on your way to recovery

Patient: Cool, thanks doc

Insurance, bursting through the door, breathlessly: OBJECTION!!!

Patient: Wh who is this guy

MD, sighing and shaking their head: this is insurance. He has to approve all the medication I prescribe, otherwise it costs a bajillion dollars

Patient: Huh why

Ins: My client does not NEED that medicine, and as such we will not pay for it!

Patient: what yeah I do. I need that. I cannot currently function

Ins: nuh uh

Patient: FYM NUH UH

Ins: toodles

MD, looking at patient exhaustedly: So it will cost eight hundred thousand dollars per bottle

Patient: okay so is that insurance guy. Is he like your boss or something

MD, philosophically: in a big-picture kinda way, yeah

Patient: well like. OK so he has a lot more experience with this than you

MD: Actually, he has none.

Patient: but he has a huge library of knowledge on the subject

MD: I don't think he knows what this medication does.

Patient: OK so he's messenger carrying out stuff from his higher ups, and THEY have experience and knowledge RIGHT

MD: actually i think the further into their management you go the less they know about the medical field

Patient: ok so WHY does HE get to MAKE THE DECISIONS when it is MY BODY that is being fixed by AN EXPERIENCED MEDICAL DOCTOR

--- MUCH EARLIER ---

Government: Hey insurance is fucked up. We should draft a bill to like fix that system up. *murmur of agreement*

Insurance CEO, walking in: Hey guys, just wanted to remind you that your check of ten million each is coming in tomorrow. Thanks for keeping insurance policies the exact same as they are right now

Govt, all looking around at each other until Ins CEO leaves: so we're not drafting anything right *murmur of greed agreement*

Coolest guy in the world: OH FUCK that. That CEO is gonna get it

[spiderlilypetals]

a/n: allow me to just self-indulge, thinking about making out with sylus after a couple of drinks. as we all know, consent is so damn hot and maybe i'll indulge some more and write the spicy part another time.

word count: 1,033 (AO3 Link)

cw: mentions of alcohol, thigh-riding, drunk kisses - oh, yeah, not beta read... we die like men.

Yours and Sylus's steps were messy as hell; as messy as the kisses you two were giving to each other, hands roaming along your bodies.

Intoxicated. Not just by the drinks you two shared at that boring business gathering that Sylus couldn't blow off like he wanted to, but by each other's presence.

He could not keep his hands off you, wanting to feel every inch of your body, an annoyed groan escaping in between the heated kisses. You've lost count how many times the two of you stumbled throughout the base and how he had to trap you between his body and the wall every so often just so the two of you can catch some air before you're both kissing each other desperately once more.

His head was spinning, and so was yours, the liquor coursing through your systems only heightened the want and need the both of you had for one another. 

"Stay with me, kitten, you know I won't go any further if you're out of it before we even start." He reminded you, a gentle hand resting against your cheek that you easily nuzzled against.

You almost forget to reply, your eyes half-lidded as you gaze up at him. You nod, digits curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, "Don't... underestimate my alcohol tolerance," you mumbled, easing up on your tiptoes to capture his lips once more. 

An amused chuckle emitted from him, his arms wrapped snug around your waist as he held you close to his body, licking into your mouth with ease, eliciting a delicious moan from you. He lifted his knee up slowly, teasing you before his knee brushed against your clothed core as your dress rode up.

"So pretty, sweetie," he groaned as he eased back, watching as your hips began to roll in a smooth motion, creating that friction your body had been craving.

His hands flitted to your hips, holding onto you and guiding you as your hands rested on his shoulders. You pant as your eyes drifted down to watch your hip movements and how your body desperately needed more than what the friction gave you.

"Sylus—" You gasped and your eyes locked with his; you focused on his right eye, where he could peer into your desires. He knew what you needed and he would give it to you.

If you asked nicely of course. 

"I know your desires, kitten, but..." He paused, trailing tantalizing kisses along your neck, his heavy breath fanning against your sensitive skin, his lips brushing up to  your ear as he whispered into it. "I need to hear you say it." 

It was to gain consent from you and for him to know you truly wanted this. His eyes would gaze into yours, his fingers gently cupping your chin to tilt your gaze up to meet with his. Albeit your eyes were half-lidded, he can tell you were still there with him.

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss down to your clavicle, biting down onto it and causing your breath to catch in your throat. He guided your hips again and you grew even more desperate by the motion. The friction was good, but you always needed more. 

Greedy. You were so fucking greedy. But hey, he told you to be.

"Kitten," his tone gravely, "stay focused."

You blink a few times, as to get rid of some of the haze. Your arms reach up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down so that your lips would brush along the outer shell of his ear. You give it a nip then whisper into it.

"I need you, Sylus." 

Sylus closed his eyes, gripping onto your hips; whether you knew it or not, you had so much power over this powerful N109 Zone ruler and Onychinus's leader. He squeezed your hips and guided them to grind along his thigh more firmly now. 

"Again," he commanded, lifting you up as he wrapped your legs around his waist, pinning you against the wall, his hands curling around your neck, not squeezing but holding you in place. "Say it again, kitten. Just for me." 

You knew very well that Sylus loved the way you sound when you're hot and heavy for him, desperation gleaming in your eyes, your body yearning for more of his touches. And you loved to indulge him. 

"I need you," you repeated without skipping a beat, your fingers finding themselves buried in his soft silver locks, "please, Sylus..." You plead, giving his hair a brief tug.

He sucked in a breath, letting out a breathy chuckle as he pulled you away from the wall, still holding you up in his arms whilst walking into the room. 

He slid the knob of the lights up just enough to keep the room somewhat lit but dimmed, making long strides to his bed as he brought you down onto it, nearly landing on you when you pulled him down upon him easing back, making you think he would pull away. His eyes widened before they softened, the back of his fingers gently caressing your cheek. 

"I'm not going anywhere, sweetie. I promise," he dipped down to kiss you softly, his hand gliding down your thigh to the back of your knee as he cupped it, lifting it slightly as his lips brushed against the skin.

The kisses he gave you were like a stamp of his reassurance. Your hands didn't grip his shoulders or arms in fear he would leave anytime soon. Instead, they held onto him tightly, pulling him closer as if it were anymore possible than he already was. And he seemed to sense it, kissing up your thigh, moving into the inner parts as he bit into the supple flesh. 

He gazed at you for a moment, "look at me, kitten."

And you do, your chest heaving as your fingers card through his hair, your eyes locked on him. 

"Do you want it?" He asked one last time.

You shook your head and you can see the shock on his face, even more so when you pull him back up to you, whispering against his lips. 

"No, Sylus, I need it."

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭 C.Kent

author's note: im going to start put warnings on my posts!

warnings: 18+, smut

the fortress of solitude felt colder than usual, though clark wasn’t sure if it was the endless arctic winds or the icy glares you’d been shooting his way since he brought you here. your normally warm, witty demeanor was gone, replaced by a biting edge that he didn’t recognize and definitely didn’t appreciate.

“this is the best you’ve got, boy scout?” you sneered, your arms crossed over your chest. “you fly me to your crystal igloo because what—your big alien brain couldn’t figure out how to handle this on your own?”

clark sighed, his patience wearing thin. “you’re not yourself,” he said, his voice measured but firm. “whatever infected you is messing with your emotions. i’m trying to help you, but you’re making it pretty damn difficult.”

“oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “you don’t like that i’m not worshipping you like the rest of metropolis? guess what, superman—you’re not as perfect as you think you are.”

the venom in your words stung, but clark kept his composure. he’d seen you infected before—by kryptonite, mind control, even magic—but this was different. you weren’t just angry. you were downright mean, and it was getting under his skin in a way that made him both frustrated and... unsettled.

his gaze flicked over your body, searching for any physical signs of the infection. your skin glowed faintly, a sheen of sweat catching the fortress’s cool light. the labored rise and fall of your chest was rhythmic but heavy, as if your body was fighting itself from the inside out.

“i need to run a scan,” clark said, his voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“oh, do you?” you snapped, stepping closer, your lips curling into a smirk. “go ahead, scan away, mr. perfect. maybe you’ll find out i’m too much woman for you to handle.”

his jaw tightened, but he forced himself to ignore your taunts. he guided you toward the kryptonian scanner, his large hands surprisingly gentle despite the tension. you didn’t resist, but you made it clear you weren’t going to make things easy.

“you know,” you said, your voice low and sultry, “maybe i don’t want to be cured. maybe i like feeling this free, this... wild. ever think of that, farm boy?”

clark stepped back, trying to ignore the way your tone sent an unexpected jolt through him. his fingers moved over the console as the scanner activated, its blue light bathing you in an otherworldly glow.

“there,” he muttered, his brow furrowing as the screen displayed the results. a foreign substance, glowing faintly red, was coursing through your bloodstream. it wasn’t kryptonite, but it was definitely kryptonian in origin.

“whatever it is, it’s amplifying your emotions,” clark said, his voice calm but firm. “we need to purge it from your system.”

“oh, yeah? and how exactly do you plan to do that?” you challenged, stepping closer, your breath brushing against his cheek. “gonna lecture it out of me? because that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? being a self-righteous boy scout?”

his patience snapped, but instead of retreating, he leaned in, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “you want to know how i’m going to get it out of you?” his voice dropped, his usual warmth replaced by something darker, more commanding. “i’m going to use every bit of strength i have to break its hold on you. and when i’m done, you’re going to remember exactly who you are.”

your smirk faltered, but only for a moment. “big talk for someone who can’t handle a little attitude,” you shot back, though your voice wavered.

clark didn’t respond. instead, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against one of the fortress’s crystalline walls. his touch was firm but not rough, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke.

“this isn’t you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “but if this is what it takes to bring you back, then so be it.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, your defiance faltering for the first time. before you could muster another snarky remark, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, and relentless. he kissed you like he was trying to break the infection’s hold with sheer force, his tongue parting your lips to claim you completely.

you gasped into his mouth, the fiery anger in your veins starting to twist, morph, into something just as hot but far more desperate. his hands moved with purpose, sliding down your body to grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly against the wall.

“clark—” your voice wavered, caught between a plea and a growl.

“trust me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, almost commanding.

his hands slid between your thighs, spreading them wide as his fingers found the slick heat pooling there. he didn’t hesitate, his touch firm and deliberate, his fingers stroking over your clit with a precision that made your head fall back against the crystal wall.

your body betrayed you, hips bucking against his hand as his touch grew more insistent. his thumb circled your clit while his fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside with maddening skill.

“you’re fighting it,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers curled inside you, pressing against a spot that sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body. “don’t. let go.”

your hands clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his suit as he worked you with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. his fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, the rhythm of his movements building a pressure inside you that felt impossible to contain.

“clark, i—” your voice broke, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“let it out,” he commanded, his voice steady, unwavering. “all of it.”

and then it happened. the pressure inside you shattered, a blinding wave of release that ripped through your body, leaving you trembling in his arms. your vision blurred, your cries echoing through the fortress as your body convulsed, slick heat spilling onto his hand as he coaxed every last drop from you.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost soothing. his fingers slowed, drawing out your release until you were spent, your body sagging against him.

the red glow in your eyes faded, replaced by the warmth and softness he knew so well. as you came back to yourself, clark held you close, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“you’re okay,” he said, his voice filled with relief. “i’ve got you.”

you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed, your lips trembling. “clark... i—”

“don’t,” he interrupted, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “you’ve been through enough. just let me take care of you.”

and for once, you did.

[satellite-evans]

Can't pay the bills

A/N : a blurb that came out of nowhere lol enjoy

word count : 600 words ( she's cute)

Harry was sprawled out on the couch, a book in one hand and a cup of tea resting precariously on the coffee table. His oversized sweater and reading glasses made him look like the coziest man alive, completely at peace in your shared home.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, your phone secretly set up to record. The idea for this prank had come to you last night, and you couldn’t resist giving it a go. Harry was so doting, so protective—it was bound to be hilarious.

“Harry,” you called out, your voice tinged with just enough worry to catch his attention.

His head snapped up immediately, the book falling shut in his lap. “What’s wrong, love?”

You wrung your hands for dramatic effect, sighing as you stepped into the living room. “I need to talk to you. It’s… important.”

Harry straightened, sliding his glasses off and setting them on the coffee table. His green eyes searched your face, a flicker of concern crossing his features. “Alright, what is it?”

Taking a deep breath, you sat beside him, biting your lip. “I can’t pay the bills this month.”

There was a beat of silence. Harry blinked at you, visibly confused. “What?”

“I… overspent. Like, really overspent,” you explained, avoiding his gaze. “And now, I don’t have enough to cover the bills.”

Harry tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “Darling, you don’t pay the bills.”

You paused, thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He chuckled lightly, though his confusion was apparent. “You’ve never paid the bills. That’s my thing. Always has been.”

You tried to salvage the prank, pressing on. “Well, yeah, but I was trying to be responsible this month! Take some of the load off you, you know? And now I’ve failed.”

Harry gave you a look, one eyebrow raised. “You’re telling me you suddenly decided to take over paying the bills, which I’ve always handled, without telling me… and somehow ran out of money?”

You nodded solemnly, trying to keep a straight face.

He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms. “Alright, let me get this straight. You’ve managed to spend more than what’s in your account, on top of what I’ve already set aside for everything? Love, what did you buy? A yacht?”

At that, you snorted, quickly covering your mouth. Harry’s lips twitched, and you could tell he was holding back a laugh.

“You’re not upset?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“I’m baffled, not upset,” he replied, shaking his head. “I mean, I’d be thrilled if you wanted to be more involved, but you don’t have to. You know I love taking care of you, yeah?”

That did it. The guilt of pranking him—and the tenderness in his voice—made you burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, Harry, it’s a prank!” you admitted, clutching your stomach as you leaned forward.

Harry stared at you for a moment before a slow grin spread across his face. “A prank, huh? You think it’s funny to make me think my wife suddenly decided to ruin my perfectly balanced system?”

You were laughing too hard to reply, especially as Harry reached over to tickle your sides mercilessly.

“That’s what you get,” he teased, his voice filled with mock indignation. “Prank me, will you?”

“Harry, stop!” you cried, wriggling away as he pulled you into his arms, still grinning.

When you finally caught your breath, you looked up at him, his face close to yours. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“Sweet, am I?” he said, his voice softening. “You’re lucky I adore you, or I’d make you pay me back by doing the washing up for a week.”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, love,” he whispered, kissing you gently.

[shabbytigers]

literally not trying to fight here, to be clear.

i don’t use siri or alexa or voice controlled remotes either but that’s mostly because i intensely dislike doing anything via voice. i don’t listen to podcasts, avoid videos where a text alternative exists. idk about robovacuums, are those voice controlled too? but in any case i never really saw the point of those one way or another. i am however considering using claude (at some point when i get it together to formulate a question and figure out how prompts work); you can have conversations with claude via typing, and its sophistication is starting to be interesting to me in a way earlier robots like siri haven’t been. i don’t have some deep fundamental rage or fear about robots. idk.

the real-feeling-to-me fears around data are two things

1. classic identity theft, credit card spoofing or whatever. at this point that feels a lot like major weather events: basic weatherproofing makes sense but i’m not structuring my day to day life around precautions. worst case, there’s a situation and i deal with it. i’ve had two incidents in this last year plus, they didn’t actually get any of my money, there were some unpleasant nuisance phone calls etc but worse things happen in war.

i don’t think that google or facebook or apple or even x is running a literal identity theft mob at scale. so for me this doesn’t connect directly to the question of turning off the ai setting on the iphone photos app y/n. the issue is, will they have a data leak that allows a third party mob to do the thing. but at that point we’re back to ambient systemic risk: yeah, weather events are gonna happen, somewhere

2. hostile government surveillance, as @thatiswhy pointed out, is the other concern.

not sure how much to worry about this irl. if i were trans in texas or florida, lots. in new york or berlin … meh, but with one twitchy eye open? normal [sic] governments, not in the throes of full-blown theocratic fascism, have neither the inclination nor the capacity for this shit. given the state of the u.s. it may become a federal level risk imminently, but granular surveillance at scale in a country of 330 million people is a lot and state capacity has been, is, and will continue to be in the toilet. overcoming the sludge in the way of getting anything done isn’t just a question of tech. it will require extraordinarily motivated, focused, willful villainy and a paucity or dereliction of opposition.

once more, however, i have a lot of just very fundamental difficulty causally connecting the toggle on my photos app to the state coming after me to deliberately and malevolently fuck me up. are there plausible scenarios where the state would actually do that? unfortunately yes. will my photo app toggle make any difference? they don’t need my data in particular, they need tons and tons of aggregate data. clearly they’re going to get tons and tons of aggregate data. furthermore, they’re going to get my data. because there are obviously uncountable other things on a well functioning current-day smartphone and in any ordinary human being’s digital life just generally that can be mined in this manner.

again, we’re now talking about something highly pervasive, systematic and infrastructural. the risk is baked into the system. like, i am not going to kill my online presence everywhere, go full black bloc, take myself right tf off the digital grid, due to this vast nebulous inchoate concern. that would be like spending every hour of every day weatherproofing, never going outside, etc, etc. i’m sure it’s worth it to a person with a highly specific and confirmed reason to worry. i do not think it makes sense for everyone or should be recommended on general principles.

also … see, i actually really like the internet? i don’t think phones or social media are a society-destroying plague? i don’t think it’s terrible or unhealthy or whatever to spend a lot of time on the phone, assuming you do also have other shit going on, etc? i feel like there are pervasive and rising anti-phone attitudes that foster a preexisting inclination to point to the phone as the fons et origo of all evil futures, and it’s maybe coloring risk assessment around this. it’s got that dubious-public-health virtue-and-moral panic feel

also also, it’s all a bit beyond my pay grade, but if you’re looking for something to worry about wrt AI, i gather there’s more interesting/concerning issues available than the question of immediate-term data mining inputs and use cases. vaguely offensive, nuisancey shit like this is just the scurf of capitalism, don’t let it get you down, save some reserves for like real problems imho

Oh _lovely_. Everyone go turn this off:

Enhanced Visual Search in Photos allows you to search for photos using landmarks or points of interest. Your device privately matches places in your photos to a global index Apple maintains on our servers. We apply homomorphic encryption and differential privacy, and use an OHTTP relay that hides [your] IP address. This prevents Apple from learning about the information in your photos. You can turn off Enhanced Visual Search at any time on your iOS or iPadOS device by going to Settings > Apps > Photos. On Mac, open Photos and go to Settings > General.

[damianwaynephd]

i actually wanna write out my headcanons for all of the batfam’s drugs of choice so here

bruce is an old school functioning alcoholic . i think it was normalized for him growing up at galas/gotham academy and on top of that he naturally has a pretty high tolerance.. he’s sober on-and-off until jason dies and then he spirals p bad . doesn’t really deal with his underlying issues until .. dealer’s choice either when tim becomes robin or post jason resurrection. i think if he can’t/doesn’t get sober until jay comes back it adds to tim’s inferiority complex bc he’s like “well b never got sober for me 😐”

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: cokehead dick grayson ❤️ BUT this fic is so fucking good that it made me see him getting into downers as a real possibility (extra points if he does them with roy). i think he doesn’t get into hard drugs until college either way and it’s part of his rebellion against bruce, but its also just bc he’s a fun guy and likes to have a good time! i don’t see it becoming A Problem until [insert Big Nightwing Trauma here] and even then i think he manages to quit without Too Much trouble (i.e he doesn’t have to go to rehab) basically bc i don’t think he at heart has an addictive personality

i don’t rly think jason would do drugs like. ever BUUUUUUT if he did become dependent on anything i think it would be alcohol. i hc willis and bruce are/were both alcoholics so ~generational trauma~ and i think he can delude himself into being like “it’s not drugs so it’s fine.” he would enjoy the buffer it gives him to everyday life/crimefighting. same w cigs! when he decides to quit everyone encourages him to go to rehab but he thinks it would be too triggering for him + he has a weird complex where he’s like “i’m strong enough to climb out of the bottle myself motherfucker” so he tries to do it on his own which … whether or not that works is. a toss-up. either way i think he’d find AA really helpfully for his own addiction + dealing w his childhood trauma

tim is one hundo percent an uppers guy. i lowkey hate when fics give him outright caffeine addiction but then don’t deal with it at all lollll. but yeah i think he’d be ur typical adderall snorter (“snorting it doesn’t make me a junkie it’s just the most efficient delivery method to the central nervous system. it’s science”) and he’d really only get into pills bc as long as it’s prescription it’s not illicit in his mind.. so he’d prob use addy in combination w xans or other benzos to come down/get to sleep when he needed to. he absolutely has to do the whole rehab stint (maybe multiple) to unlearn his preconceptions about addiction/addicts and his deep rooted belief that he only has worth when he’s productive lol.

damian is straightedge like this kid will not take tylenol. he doesn’t drink caffeine either and gets like really into herbal tea and supplements when he’s older

[vaguely-concerned]

it's so important in every one of my rye playthroughs that lucanis does not come along for taash' recruitment mission (my headcanon is that the crows need him for something that day, part of the out of universe reason is that I want to introduce harding to bae as soon as possible, I like her big 'whoa....' eyes when she sees taash breathe fire for the first time fjksda, and also I want to recreate the effect of my first playthrough)

to convey the vibe going on through the whole thing, please imagine rook standing there reading mel's note about mel and top getting separated when the wardens left rivain with badly hidden tears in his eyes as he clears his throat like

"hey uh. harding?"

"yes, rook?"

"do you ever... miss people. when they're not there."

"I mean -- sometimes, rook, yeah."

"like one specific person. maybe. and you think it would be very sad if they weren't there every day anymore for whatever reason."

"that makes a lot of sense, rook."

"...I miss lucanis."

"*very kindly* yeah rook. I know."

"I miss lucanis a lot when he isn't here."

to really drive home the point of how pathetic and hilarious this is, it's the first time in like a month they haven't been able to go out on a mission together and it's been a day max since they saw each other. this isn't even particularly romance flavoured yet it's just 'new surprise best friend withdrawal :'( where is my little guy we have a buddy system going in this world now. omg. what if he moves to another school some day. I hadn't even thought about that. if a mel and tops situation happens here I'm going to throw myself into the ocean'. their little corner of the lighthouse dinner table has good excited vibes rarely seen outside of surprise middle school new best friend found elation. lucanis is an insomniac abomination with ptsd and rye is walking around everywhere in a haze of immense and unspeakable grief he can't place and won't talk about and doesn't understand. but at least they get to sit together during lunch and for just that half hour everything is briefly :D omg you're here too hi!

[justjesse116]

Can I pester you for your thoughts on Dabi and Hawks' respective canon endings (if you haven't posted em somewhere already and I've just missed it)

Oh yeah, I did say I'd touch on that and sure never did huh. I got so fed up that I just ignored the ending and didn't feel like acknowledging it with a post anymore.

But I do have an answer for you. It's gonna be a long one, buckle up buttercup.

As for Dabi's 'end'.

Ah yes, fantastic message Horikoshi, if you're not a perfect victim and don't shrink away and make yourself small and hide away from your abuse/abuser - if you get mad and lash out then you should just fucking die. Your ABUSER gets a second chance, but you can just go fuck yourself.

(For a better understanding on how I feel about Dabi's story as a whole I got, what, 2 sentences in and had to pause because I'm sick as hell right now and a little fucked up on cold medicine, and I got so mad my hands started shaking and my heart tried to do it's best impression of a wildebeest stampede in my chest. (Emotional regulation who?))

Dabi is my ride or die, because I came from a home where my sperm donor terrorized me my whole life for the crime of being alive and having the gall to take after my mother. I have an unfortunately personal understanding of how he feels, at least in part, and his end in the story is what bothers me most, and will continue to do so.

Did he go about it the best way? No, I'm not a fan of the murder (arson I couldn't give 2 fucks about, destroy that government property babey) but I can't blame him for turning out the way he did. He went through literal hell and came out the other side torn apart physically and mentally. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't fantasize about killing my sperm donor for all the ways he fucked me up every once in a while, so I can't blame him for that either. I think it's a natural reaction to want to eliminate a perceived threat, especially one as traumatizing as one of the people who are supposed to be guaranteed to love you turning on you the way Endeavor did.

But anyway, I'm rambling at this point so in a nutshell; FUCK Horikoshi and his wishy washy writing and bitchass cop out. The end to Dabi's story is insulting at best and harmful at worst. It's very obvious that he was over My Hero, since he bulldozed over anything that would resemble a satisfying ending in regards to multiple parts of the story, but his handling of Dabi as a character is the most egregious in my opinion. I have well and truly had enough of this man (derogatory).

So now I shall move on to the man, the myth, the legend, the love of my life - you get it. Hawks. And if I'm being honest I'm not very keen on his ending either.

First of all, what ever happened to giving heroes more time to kill?

Ahem. Excuse me, getting a little heated.

Fucking give me that man, he needs to be sat down in a plush fucking armchair, with a mug of actual coffee, not that canned shit, bundled in the softest blanket money can buy, just relaxing and reading or watching a show. LET THAT MAN REST. HIS ASS HAS NO BUSINESS BEING THE PRESIDENT OF AN ORGANIZATION THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABOLISHED AT THE END. THAT'S WHAT IT FELT LIKE HORIKOSHI WAS HINTING TOWARDS THE WHOLE TIME. GET RID OF THE HERO SYSTEM. BUT NOOOOO.

To be a little more coherent (hopefully) about it. It's not to say I don't think he could do it, I just think it was one fuck of a leap. That was some Olympic level stretching, at least in my opinion. I just think that man deserves to rest. He belongs in a quiet little house in the countryside and he has a part time job at like, a local farm or something and in his spare time he volunteers all over town and preferably Dabi is there as well 🙄. Give him peace and quiet, let him rest.

I honestly don't know what would have satisfied me canon wise for his ending, but HPSC president just ain't it. Again, I feel like it was Horikoshi catching the cooties for his own work; he just wanted to be done with it so he slapped together what he thought was the most likely of scenarios and just left it at that. In a word; disappointing.

I see a lot of people saying he should have died, because out of everyone of the heroes his death would have made the most sense and had the most meaning or whatever, and I can agree with that, but I'm still glad he's not dead. It absolutely is fucked up how disproportionate the deaths were when it comes to heroes vs villains, no one can deny that. But dammit I need a win, I need a fave who ain't dead.

I think that about wraps up my thoughts without me writing a god damn dissertation. Thanks for the ask, it was a nice distraction.

[twink-woman]

I’m kind of confused as to why we’re even drawing a distinction between people who self-identify as trans women/fems and people who self-identify as femboys (but notably not trans women/fems) in the first place, because, like… Yeah, if you’re a transfeminized person, you’re going to be TMA, regardless of what you call yourself.

But the way that I’ve always understood the process of transfeminization (how individuals’ identities* become transmisogyny-confined) is that it necessitates a rejection (at least to a certain extent) of one’s assigned maleness and a simultaneous transition towards femininity/womanhood, even if one doesn’t specifically label themselves as a woman or fem.

*(Btw, I’m not trying to play idpol here, I’m just using the word “identity” to mean “the category into which a stratified society places you based on certain characteristics like gender”)

It’s both of these things in tandem that creates the intersection between oppositional and traditional sexism that we know as transmisogyny: transitioning toward womanhood invalidates the idea that “man” and “woman” are distinct, unchanging categories, and rejecting male assignment invalidates the idea that manhood is inherently superior to womanhood.

So, with that said… Are GNC cis men TMA? Are they only TMA if they specifically call themselves femboys or sissies?

They’re certainly discriminated against, in the same way that femininity is always viewed as lesser, no matter who embodies it. But proximity to transfemininity, being mistaken for a trans woman, does not a transmisogyny-confined identity make.

To put it another way: I’ve seen trans men call themselves femboys before, and I think we can all agree that they are not TMA, but they are still feminine men. It’s just that transfemininity, the way it’s defined by and marginalized within a transmisogynistic society, is not treated the same as being a feminine man (see: the third-gendering/degendering of trans women), and I do believe it’s because of that rejection of male assignment that it’s not.

I don’t think whether or not someone calls themself a femboy or a sissy is entirely irrelevant to whether or not they’re TMA, of course not. But I also don’t think the two are inherently interlinked. I don’t think these identities are inherently transfeminized because, at the end of the day, they’re just words that some people call themselves, rather vague identity labels, and what you call yourself is not what makes you TMA, as you said.

Does that mean femboys or sissies aren’t/can’t be TMA? Of course not. But I also don’t think that GNC cis men (regardless of what specific labels they use for themselves) being interpersonally discriminated against for their proximity to transfemininity makes them TMA — makes their identities inherently confined by the entire system of oppression that is transmisogyny — anymore than TME trans people’s proximity to trans women makes them TMA.

So, I guess my real question is just: What exactly is this post about? Because if it’s not about GNC cis men who call themselves femboys and sisses, if it’s only about femboys and sissies who are neither cis nor transfem… Then, again I have to ask, why does a line need to be drawn when the only distinction between these two groups of TMA people, transfems and non-transfem femboys/sissies, is the particular words they choose to label themselves with?

And I really want to stress, I’m not asking this to be inflammatory or contrarian or anything, I am genuinely curious because I feel like I’ve missed out on some crucial context here.

I have seen TME people time and time again insist that “actually everybody is TMA,” and then use this talking point as a subtle ploy to just get transfems to shut up about transmisogyny. So I will fully admit that I reflexively dismiss arguments about how “GNC men are TMA” or “all intersex people are TMA” or “[whoever else they decide to tokenize this week] are TMA” when I see them because of that prior experience. But I don’t want to do that with this post since I don’t feel at all like that’s what it’s advocating.

I may be way off the mark here, but I figured I’d just ask, ‘cause it’s an interesting discussion either way.

it’s low-key kind of crazy when people say “femboys aren’t TMA and if you need proof just see how little people care about XYZ femboy since she came out as transfem” because this is literally just the same “closeted/stealth transfems can’t be transmisogyny affected” argument all over again. like explain to me how y’all can agree that closeted/stealth trans women aren’t transmisogyny exempt but femboys/sissies are? it isn’t a privilege to have to sexualise yourself and present your identity a certain way to get work or recognition. just because any person assigned male at birth asserting their identity as a woman specifically results in a specific kind of transmisogyny doesn’t mean that people assigned male at birth who present femininely but don’t identify as women aren’t transmisogyny affected. and just because some femboys/sissies only present femininely because of a kink doesn’t mean they wouldn’t lose their jobs, homes, families, friends & partners if somebody found out. transmisogyny is not determined by our personal identities for fucks sake that’s why we can’t identify out of it. we need to quit the idpol shit for real.

[amaya-143]

hello. part two of me ranting about the fear of memory loss in isat. is it that obvious i have autism?

part one was about the kings fear of forgetting. Go read. *clicks my fingers like a cat* go.

disclaimer not a psychiatrist blahh blahhhh u get the idea :p king rant was long, this will be longer. maybe one singular person is as normal as i am about this game and will enjoy. otherwise at least its out of my system and into words

So yeah, the king is afraid of forgetting. Siffrin, however, is afraid of being forgotten.

Siffrin, is late 20s, and just like the king lost the majority of their memories to the island.The people they loved, all that jazz i don't need to write the cinematics again. They too end up in an unfamiliar place, however they end up a rouge. They travel from city to city, never staying anywhere solid, never making any real connections for years (at least as far as we know.) To him, he is just a guy* who lost everything that they knew, and that's that. No point if it'll just happen again. In fact im not even sure if they're aware they're from that island, since I'm pretty sure he learns it ingame. He just exists. Thats it. Their life doesn't matter, doesn't impact anyone. He is forgettable

But then, they meet Mira, Odile, and Isa. Then Bonnie, and when things couldn't get more confusing, he loses an eye for them. The party loves Siffrin, even if they never say it pregame. They appreciate him. And even if Frin doesn't think it directly, they definitely subconsciously believe it pregame. Otherwise, it wouldn't be such a shock when odile says they're colleagues at best. So how can Siffrin go back to his old life? A life on the go, with no connections, nothing but the millisecond bumps into strangers and polite conversations with the clerk at the hotel desk. Nobody to come home to, no one to ask how their day was.

Its like trying chocolate after eating coco beans all your life. Maybe you can tolerate going back to coco beans for a bit, but you'll never forget the chocolate. It'll be something you think about all the time, your thought before sleep takes you, as tiktok would say your 'roman empire'.

So Siffrin cannot let them go back home. He wishes to stay with them. and thus, the loops happen.But after a bit he, quote, 'understands the king more than he'd like to'

He refuses to be forgotten, to have to go back to that life. They've lived the span of their memories being so blindingly forgettable, now someone, some people see them and its so close in his grasp. Isabeau is so close to confessing to him. Mirabelle is so close to her full potential as a housemaiden. Odile is accepting she's more than her roots. And Bonnie, the kid he lost an eye for, disabling him permentantly, HUGGED them. a massive deal for a fella whos been living off small talk and avoiding eye contact for the last 10 years. Just one more loop, if they do it all right then just maybe..

Not here to talk abt the loops. moving on.

After all these people who love him, they don't wanna be forgotten. Trauma isn't just a factor in disorders. Trauma can, and often does create its own reactions. For a real world example, Children who grow up with absent parents often react with avoiding and distancing tendencies, where as children with emotionally unstable parents tend to grow to be anxiously attached to those they love. These aren't disorders, but they are a reaction to the trauma faced and ingraned. Frin's fear of being forgotten is just as much a trauma response as it is a result of the way he lives. Who knows how many people Siffrin forgot in the island. What's stopping him from being like them? What's stopping him from being so forgettable.

Side note, act 5 is next to the Sunny vs Basil fight as my favorite two scenes in games, especially when it comes to imagining/reading about them in other characters povs other than the mains. And bigfrin is my absolute joy in the world. not sorry.

But after loops n loops of trying to prevent it, hearing off handed comments about how bonnie hates them, and how isa will say i love you to anyone except him, Sif's self worth is at an all-time low. They just don't have it in them anymore. They cant do it. we're looking at months of living the same two days over and over. Same lines. Same people. Same events. Years, if you're an insane person who does like 500+ loops. I think most people did like 70-150 though. Siffrin has been reliving this for so long he's begun to find comfort in it. It feels safe. Its boring, its insufferable, yes, but its SAFE. After suffering all those months, they're leaving anyway. They are going home. They will go home and forget Sif and it will all be for nothing. When Odile stops them from looping back, they strike. Either at themselves, or those they love. They would literally rather attack those they've gone through months of suffering just to spend more time with, or attack themselves time after time till it kills them. They'd rather it than risk them all leaving and forgetting him. I don't really have much more to say i guess i just ugh

i love act 5 i love bigfrin and if theres any writers reading this write some act 5 from other party members pov and you will get the juciest kiss.

if you read all this way, congrats!! i diagnose you with autism 💜

*guy is used as a unisex. i know the correct term for siffrin is fella. i went to gender school.

[nkogneatho]

personal

i am having such a hard time to bounce back and recover. i am trying to manifest the physical strength to start working again (i took a two weeks leave) but i am just so exhausted. i am holding onto that mental rope so tight so that i don't fall back. in these times relapsing urges are so heightened but i have been well for 7 months and nicotine will only bring me disappointment at this point. i just want to be able to be all cheery and hardworking again. tired of wanting to do so many things but not being able to both physically and mentally.

i am so sorry for being so negative but i just needed to get this out of my system. i don't have anyone irl who i can share these things with so yeah this is my only option.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Embrace Me

(1-1)

Short story # 26

Gif NOT mine.

Paring - Commander Mills X Plussize!Reader

Summary - Your simply trying to relax after a grueling day of hiking, across the tundra of an unknown planet. And Commander Mills is absolutely determined to relax with you, his copilot and long time crush.

Rating - SFW (It gets a bit spicy, but nothing occurs.)

Reading time (roughly) - 12 minutes

Year posted - 2025

"Can we please rest for the night? I feel like I've got blisters on my blisters." (Y/n) whined at her Commander, who was walking a short distance ahead of her. He sighed heavily through his nose, glancing back at his copilot over his shoulder. "We should find shelter first, it's going to storm tonight." He argued. (Y/n) groaned in response, her feet were killing her, and her gear grew heavier and heavier with each step. "Why did we have to crash on such a miserable planet." She complained, as she adjusted the strap of her plasma rifle higher onto her shoulder. Mills chuckled softly at her words, silently agreeing with her assessment of this uncharted planet. "I would offer to carry you." Mills said as he glanced back, smirking at how quick (Y/n) perked up. "But you're awfully heavy." He teased playfully, laughing when he felt her throw a handful of berries at his back. "That's not nice." She huffed at him, feeling a tad bit insecure, despite knowing he was only joking. Mills turned to observe her expression, and before he could see the look of insecurity on her face, (Y/n) pulled up a mask of playful bitterness. Even going as far as to childishly stick her tongue out at him. Again he simply chuckled and turned back to continue leading the way.

Almost an hour later they finally found a suitable place for shelter, and in the nick of time. As soon as they'd sat their packs down within the cave, it was as if the heavens had simply opened up, and a downpour of rain fell from the darkening sky. "Finally." (Y/n) sighed as she plopped down onto the ground, carefully pulling her boots off with a hiss of discomfort. While Mills on the other hand began setting up a perimeter defense, or rather a security system. The rhythmic hum of the security devices was soothing in a way, knowing that as long as they remind humming this calm tone, then they were completely safe. "Here." Mills offered (Y/n) his canteen of fresh water. "Thanks." She excepted it gratefully, taking a generous sip before pushing it back towards him. "I'm okay, drink up, you need it." He assured her, and though she knew it wasn't, it felt like another jab at her weight. "Okay." She muttered softly, her eyes unable to hide her sadness, as she looked down at the canteen in her hand. "Hey are you okay?" Mills asked, instantly picking up on her sudden shift in mood. (Y/n) willed herself to perk up a bit, a false smile stretching across her face smoothly. "Yeah just tired is all." She lied through her teeth, and while Mills looked like he wanted to say something, he simply nodded his head, and turned his attention to rummaging through his pack.

(Y/n) took a few more generous sips of the water, and as she sealed the lid, Mills held his hand out to her. "You should eat something." He said as he opened his palm to her, inside his hand lay a chocolate bar, her personal favorite chocolate at that. A nagging voice in the back of her mind taunted her, echoing that he chose chocolate specifically because of her weight. "I'm not really all that hungry, just wanna rest is all." She lied again, ignoring the hungry twist in her gut. "We've been walking all day, you need to keep up your energy." Mills insisted, placing the chocolate into her and, and closing her fingers around it. "Sure." She muttered softly, wishing the ground would just open up beneath her, and swallow her whole. Mills smiled at her, pleased that he had been able to snag a few of her favorite chocolate bars, before they left the tattered ships kitchen behind. (Y/n) had peeled back the wrapper, and was taking tentative bites of her chocolate. Her eyes following Mills as he refilled the canteen with rain water, and then retrieved a snack for himself. A preserved granola, high in protein, low in fat... And sugar. She felt the urge to throw up, but swallowed the knot of bile building in her throat. Unable to take it anymore she shoved the rest of the chocolate bar into her pack, and lay back against the hard dirt covered ground. Her eyes swirled with insecurities and sadness, as she stared at the roof of the cave.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mills asked suddenly, observing her with concerned eyes. He'd never seen her act like this, and while it wasn't everyday they crash landed on an uncharted planet, he worried that there was something else bothering her. "I'm perfectly fine." (Y/n) insisted as she closed her eyes. "You know..." He started as he sat aside the rest of his food. "It's okay to be scared right now." (Y/n) took a deep breath through her nose, and crossed her ankles. "I'm pretty shaken up myself." He admitted in a soft reassuring voice, watching as she simply laced her fingers together on top of her soft belly. Mills swallowed thickly as he observed her, wandering if she felt as soft and cozy as she looked. "I'm just tired okay." She insisted with a bit of a bite at the end. "Okay." Was all Mills could bring himself to say, and for a moment his attention was drawn outside, as a crack of thunder rumbled menacingly in the darkness. When his eyes cast back to (Y/n) he noticed how she shivered slightly when a gust of wind blew through the cave. He smiled faintly at the sight of her, noticing how peaceful she appeared to be in this moment. Without thinking Mills crossed the distance to kneel at her feet. She didn't seem to notice his proximity, or she simply chose to ignore it all together. However when he gently grasped her ankles, and uncrossed her legs she reacted. "What are you doing?" Was all she said, her eyes still closed.

"You're cold." Mills stated as a matter of fact, before pushing her legs up until her knees bent. As he slotted himself between her legs, and pressed himself as close to her as he could, she opened her eyes. "That doesn't answer my question, what the hell are you doing?" She asked and though her tone sounded annoyed, her eyes betrayed her and bared her curiosity to him. "Keeping you warm." Mills stated casually as he hooked (Y/n)'s legs to rest comfortably around his waist. Afterwards he took ahold of her wrists, and pulled her arms up to lay beside her head, his hands engulfing her own, and keeping her locked in place. "A blanket would have sufficed." (Y/n) uttered as their noses brushed from their close proximity. "I was cold too, and we only have the one blanket. You know after you lost yours yesterday." He teased her with a grin on his face. "You're so annoying sometimes, you know that?" (Y/n) huffed as she tried wiggling free, only to freeze with a squeak, when she felt just how much of him was pressed against her. Mills hummed at the feeling and nuzzled his face into her neck, inhaling her natural musk after sweating most of the day. (Y/n) wanted to wiggle away, feeling insecure about how she smelled. "You're so soft." Mills muttered against her ear, his plush lips brushing against her skin. (Y/n) wasn't sure what to say, and despite herself, she felt herself relaxing beneath him.

"I've always wanted to be this close to you." He admitted in a soft whisper, his words making (Y/n)'s heart flutter. "Close? Mills you're more than just close. You're invading, suffocating, practically swallowing me." (Y/n) said as she made a mental note of how much his body was caging her entire body against the ground, how easily he covered her as if she was just a small thing. Mills pulled back a little, just enough to look at her face. "I can move." He said as he shifted to get off of her, however before he could move far, (Y/n) locked her legs around his hips, keeping him in place. "Don't you dare." She huffed at him in warning. With a smile he relaxed, and nuzzled his face into her neck again. "There is something you can do for me Commander." Mills shuttered at the use of his title. "Anything." He promised. "Let me feel all of you, crush me under your weight. Please." (Y/n) said in a breathless tone, finding herself desperate to feel him everywhere. Mills huffed against her neck finding desire flowing through his body, at the thought of truly laying on her. And without needing to be told twice he relaxed further, and little by little he dropped his full weight onto her. (Y/n)'s breathing became a bit shallow at the new weight on her ribs, but the moan that passed her lips was divine music to his ears. "Holy fuck that feels amazing." She breathed out, her fingers flexing and unflexing around his much larger ones.

"Keep making sounds like that, and we aren't going to get much rest." Mills murmured against her skin, moving so the bridge of his nose ran along the length of her jaw. "Fuck resting." (Y/n) huffed as she rocked her hips up, and moaning at the feeling of the curve of his cock nestled firmly against her. "You're going to be the death of me." Mills uttered as he pushed his groin against her, a groan bubbling in his throat when he felt just how much warmer she was there. (Y/n)'s breathing had become a bit more shallow, and sensing her body couldn't handle the extra weight, Mills pulled up just enough to ease the pressure off of her. (Y/n) grunted in annoyance however, and pushed her chest up to meet his. "Lay against me." She begged. "I don't want to hurt you." Mills argued before planting a feather light kiss against her forehead. "I don't care, I want you to crush me." She admitted before pushing forward to kiss him. Mills melted into the kiss, and slowly eased his weight onto her once more, greedily swallowing the moan that she gave to him. As the kiss deepened Mills began to slowly rock against (Y/n)'s clothed heat, offering them both some relief, and yet making them both crave more. "I want you to ride me." He admitted then they parted for air. "I thought I was too heavy." (Y/n) said, with a twinge of sadness in her voice. Understanding now the mistake he'd made earlier, Mills finally realized why she had been acting odd.

"Bullshit." He argued, and before she could say anything else. He hoisted them both up off of the ground, holding (Y/n) up by the fat of her thighs as if she weighed nothing at all. She had gasped in surprise and the sudden movement, and squeezed herself closer to him, afraid he would drop her. "You're so fucking perfect." Mills murmured as he rest his forehead against hers, allowing her body to lower just enough to keep his cock snug against her clothed sex. "Oh my god." (Y/n) panted almost breathlessly, as fear and desire coursed through her veins. Without thought she grinded down against him, her arms tightening around his shoulders, and her eyes squeezed shut. "So beautiful." Mills breathed out before kissing her once more, teeth and tongue clashing in a desperate symphony of love and desire. His large hands squeezed at her plush thighs, making him groan at how soft and squishy she felt. "I love you, fuck I love you." Mills declared against her lips, as he continued to grind against her. "Please let me show you how much I love you." He panted heavily, her moan going right to his core. "Please please please please." He rambled over and over, desperately wanting to make her feel good, and show her just how much he loves her. "Y-yes." (Y/n) nodded her head vigorously in agreement. "S-show me how m-much you love me Commander." She stammered over her words, her entire body buzzing with desire. "Thank you thank you thank you." Mills babbled as he began pulling at her clothes, desperate to see all of her body, and to finally get to worship every inch of her skin, and her very soul.

God I loved this movie... I mean sure it had some plot holes, but I could care less. The amount of grunting and heavy breathing we get to hear Adam make is divine... When I first watched this movie, I was wearing headphones, and oh my god he was killing me with those sounds. Anyhow I hope you enjoyed this one.

[ankles-be-bitten]

No, yeah, you're completely right. I actually deleted a further response because it was flirting too much with the implication that poor people anywhere are actively participating in the systemic oppression of the global south outside of, as you said, their voting habits.

honestly their argument falls apart even further, because it would then technically still be an admission that tmascs--assuming they have it easier, which is not a fair or true generalization to make--are not the people tfems need to be worried about, generally speaking. the privilege of, like, water that doesn't have cholera in it and walmart and cheap junky fast food being available to some people more so than others is not at all the same as, say, someone owning an emerald mine in apartheid south africa. but that's still an incredibly bad faith take on the experiences of trans men, and a comparison so utterly ignorant it's barely worth engaging with to start (yet here i am).

idk. it's really hard to map the human experience onto a black and white scale of "bad" to "good" even with really basic things. i don't want to dig super far into that because i am capital W White, from the US, and poor but not even close to living on the streets poor. like, we've had to downsize a lot and we struggle to buy gas and groceries sometimes but it's never that we can't make ends meet, and both my parents have had their own parents to fall back on for financial aid when things get super dire. so I'm personally familiar with neither experience of poverty.

the point of my original post was just to point out the absurdity of the comparison, but yeah. i definitely could have worded it better from the get-go. we live and learn 🤙

i honestly think that anyone who earnestly compares transandrophobia/anti transmasculinity/tme/a discourse to racism/global imperialism needs to shut the fuck up forever. no, tme/tma discourse is not "like poor people from the imperial core refusing to accept that they are more privileged than poor people from the global south." do you understand how stupid you sound? you're doing "trans women are the black people of the trans community" and acting like that's not widely understood to be obscenely offensive.

trans men do not hold any real, tangible, material privilege over trans women the way people from western imperialist countries have power over the countries they COLONIZED FOR CENTURIES. YOU SOUND FUCKING STUPID!!

[quadrupleangst]

FOUND OUT SOMETHING ABOUT MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER THAT MADE ME NOT LIKE THEM ANYMORE

[vole-mon-amour]

In all timelines, in all possibilities... only YOU can show me this.

[viveela]

It must be weird to live so long that an integral part of himself is now accepted, he'll need more time to get there too