#to be fair i did it with a lot more self awareness and i realized it was not the right thing for me

[lucky-clover-gazette]

the idea of any kind of cbiuc follow up is kinda absurd bc i just spent like 6 months trying to be in a normal m/f relationship out of gay despair which is exactly what i wrote passionately against vio doing in that fic

[meanbossart]

Did Astarion kill DU Drow or did DU Drow pass the checks? (Or did that interaction not happen?)

Cause you’ve basically described DU Drow’s type as THAT Bitch™️ which I respect. But if THAT Bitch™️ killed him too?

Of course this could be me projecting, cause my Durge failed the checks and he came before he went 🫡.

Pretty face, legs for days, a mean streak, AND held a knife to his throat within five minutes of meeting, Astarion had already grabbed his attention, top that off with the fact Astarion actually killed him? My murder man was munted, the Bhaal boy was barking, slaughter son was salivating…

You get the idea

God damn it you're right, his type is just the conceptual archetype of That Bitch isn't it LOL

THAT BEING SAID you are actually mistaken! He may not like suck-ups, but he likes strangers putting knives to his throat even less.

Not to mention: Astarion's immediate order of business after that is to try and desperately get on your good side. In other words, doing the very thing that puts DU drow off. He didn't care for Astarion or his attempts at seduction at all, held him at arms' length, and was just a dismissive asshole to him throughout the majority of Act 1 (he was an asshole to everyone at that stage though, to be fair.)

It was only at the tiefling party when Astarion, completely unprompted, implied that the very idea of having sex with him disgusted him that DU drow became interested and started pursuing him. In the narrative I made up for this course of events, I like to think Astarion realized that his usual strategy wouldn't work here and that he was dealing with a man who only wants what he can't have. DU drow is a contrarian at heart, and for as long as Astarion was throwing himself at him he was going to be turned down.

Astarion only bit him after they started having sex, and at that point he had already told DU drow about his vampirism through normal dialogue ("Well, Obviously."). This is sincerely the only way he got away without being staked when that scene triggers (and it was honestly really cool to experience it in that order because it felt a lot more strategic from my POV as the player).

The bite was definitely a turning point in the relationship (DU drow enjoys being hurt by people he values under a controlled environment, but isn't fully aware of it due to his missing memory -> now his object of carnal desire puts that very concept on the table on a habitual basis, making it pretty much a pillar of the relationship -> DU drow begins to see Astarion as someone who actually has something to offer him, instead of just being a pretty conquest that he can show off.) However he still attempted and passed the first check to break free from it. They weren't close enough for DU drow to completely let go of his sense of self-preservation, nor did he come to trust Astarion entirely for a long time even after that. At that stage, if Astarion had sucked him dry (and then revived him, I guess) DU would have most definitely killed him.

(And If you're wondering how this translates to my actual gameplay - I wasn't taking the game seriously because I don't usually like fantasy as a genre, so I made a guy, named him Drow, and proceeded to be a huge dick to everyone until they all ultimately wormed their way into my heart while I kicked and screamed.)

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, but there's a little bit of progress. Tommy is the hero in this chapter. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!

Chapter Three | Main Masterlist

Sleep evaded Joel Saturday night, his mind unable to shut down and rest. He spent half the night searching for words to fit what he was experiencing. The right one didn’t occur to him until nearly five o’clock in the morning.

Turmoil.

That was the perfect word to describe the utter confusion and uncertainty boiling inside him.

His date went about as well as could be expected when one wasn’t particularly interested in the other person. There was conversation, but it mostly revolved around Annica and her interests. She asked a few polite questions about Joel but didn’t seem too interested in his responses. To be fair, they were short and rather ineloquent, but he barely had the chance to talk about Sarah before the woman changed the subject. She was also very much not his type.

She wasn’t you.

That’s the part which caused the most turmoil.

Joel didn’t realize how quickly he was falling for you until he was on a date with someone else. It somehow felt like a betrayal toward you, even though you and Joel weren’t together. Even though you didn’t even know that he liked you, more than liked you.

This entire thing was eating him up inside, all your interactions since Friday, but especially the way you bolted from him last night. He didn’t understand what happened until he checked out his face in the mirror, your parting comment finally making sense.

Annica had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off. He knew she wanted more, at least a real kiss, but he offered nothing other than a loose hug and brief thanks for joining him. So, she pressed her painted lips to his cheek for several moments too long, subtly trying to turn his face toward hers, before he finally stepped back and walked away. He didn’t even wait for her to get into her house safely.

To his dismay, she left a clear and distinct reminder of her on his cheek that he was not aware of until you mentioned it. His face burned with the feeling of being marked like territory, and the worst part was you saw it. Who the fuck knew what you thought of him now.

Joel needed advice, someone to talk this all through with. If the situation didn’t involve you, he would have gone to you for advice. You were so easy to talk to and he opened up more easily with you than he had with anyone else in his entire life. But that was out of the question for… obvious reasons.

Your dad was equally as easy to talk to, a quality you must have inherited from him. But he couldn’t turn to JB about this for the same obvious reasons.

That left his brother. Tommy would give Joel a good ribbing about all this. Joel wasn’t ashamed to admit that his brother had more practical experience with dating and complicated relationships, especially recently, than he did. It was time to capitalize on all of Tommy’s shenanigans.

Dangerously under-caffeinated and bleary-eyed, Joel made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for the usual Sunday morning family breakfast. Tommy joined them a little after nine o’clock and helped himself to the spread. He knew better than to ask Joel about his date in front of Sarah, so the younger brother made quiet conversation with Sarah as Joel sipped at his coffee. She told him all about her adventure to the movies with you and how much she loved hanging out with you, how smart you were, and how pretty.

A stupid grin spread over Joel’s face as his daughter spoke about you. He could feel Tommy’s narrowed gaze burning into the side of his head, which he ignored until Sarah finished her food and ran off to play a video game in the living room.

“You gonna make me ask?” Tommy grinned at Joel as he cleared the table. Joel merely quirked a brow and focused on washing the dishes. “Fine, ya ol’ grumpy ass. How was the date?”

“Was alright. She talked, a lot,” Joel emphasized, “and mostly about herself. We don’t have much in common other than we like to eat. The movie she picked to see was God awful. I’d rather have seen the other movie with Sarah.���

“Really?” Tommy placed the last of the dirty flatware next to the sink, watching as Joel scrubbed each item before rinsing it off. “Annica texted me that she had a wonderful time and hoped there’d be a second date. Asked if I could put in a good word for her. Guess that’s not happenin’.”

“There’d be no point. She’s not who I’m interested in.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, and he cringed when Tommy latched right on them.

“Ohhhh, and who might you be interested in, dear brother?” The shit-eating grin on the younger brother’s face let Joel know that Tommy already had an idea on who piqued his interest. “Couldn’t be JB’s hot little daughter, could it? You going cradle robbin’ now?”

Punching his brother in the arm, hard, Joel growled. “I ain’t robbin’ any cradles, asshole. She’s only about nine years younger than me.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tommy teased, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting.

“Don’t get me started on how you almost got busted for statutory rape last year, dickhead.”

“Hey now, I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.” Tommy surrendered, adding a grumbled, “And you know damn well that wasn’t on purpose. That girl looked 25! She sure had me fooled.”

Joel nodded, heading out to the back patio with another cup of coffee. Tommy followed, stopping briefly to grab a can of soda from the fridge. The pair sat quietly listening to the sound of songbirds singing the songs of their people before Joel finally spoke.

“I feel like an idiot asking this, but how do you tell if a woman is into you?”

Tommy nearly spilled soda all down the front of himself, the question caught him so off-guard. “Whadda ya mean?” he spluttered, trying not to choke on the carbonated liquid.

Rolling his big brown eyes with a huff, Joel glared at his brother. “I mean just what I said. I’m so outta practice with this. I keep second guessin’ everything. I just don’t know…”

Taking pity on his older brother, Tommy refrained from razzing him further. He was intrigued by this version of his brother who lacked self-confidence, so different from the over-confident man Joel used to be, at least when it came to women.

“Just so I understand, do you want to know how to tell if any woman is into you or a specific woman?”

Brows pulling together, Joel stared at Tommy blankly for a moment. “Does it make a difference?”

Tommy’s lips spread into a wide grin, deep brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “It sure as hell does, brother. There are few key ways to tell with most women, but if it’s a specific woman you’re curious about, I may have some intel.”

The struggle to hide his overwhelming curiosity on the ‘intel’ his brother had was a losing game, and Joel relented, his cheeks growing hot as he uttered the words. “Fine. It’s JB’s daughter.”

The room stilled as the brothers stared at each other, the grin on Tommy’s face growing impossibly wider until nearly all his pearly whites were on display. “I knew it! You dirty dog.”

��Tommy,” Joel growled, drawing out the two syllables until his brother sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, no razzin’.” Tommy grumbled. He waited a few beats until Joel grew even more uncomfortable. “She’s into you, too.”

Joel perked up at that. “That’s your intel? How do you know?”

Looking around the backyard, Tommy thought of all the times he’d been around and caught you ogling his brother when you thought no one was watching, but none rivaled that time in the kitchen when you stared as Joel pulled his tee shirt off to put in on right side out. Tallying it all up in his mind, Tommy was certain that you had a thing for his brother. And now, it seemed he had a thing for you, too.

The question Tommy had now was, would either of you do anything about it?

With recent history as proof, he had his doubts.

Perhaps it was time to give you each a little nudge.

“It’s in the way she looks at you, all wide-eyed with wonder, like she’s imagining what it’d be like to be with you. I flirted with her for nearly an hour one day and she never looked at me like that once.” Tommy smirked at the glassy look that overcame his brother’s eyes. “Well, that and the drool dripping down her chin every time she sees you.”

“Yeah… wait, what?” It took a moment for Joel to catch on. “Fuckin’ asshole, I swear. She doesn’t drool when she looks at me.”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Tommy’s chest. “She might as well do with as into you as she is. I’m telling you, pay attention to how she is around you and you’ll see.”

The brothers fell silent again with Joel’s thoughts drowning in you. If what Tommy said was true, then you must be hurting over the fact that he went on a date with someone else, more so since you also saw him on that date. Already feeling like such a dick, worry over you weighed more heavily on him this morning. He had to fix this, but how?

Part of Joel wanted to rush over to JB’s and check on you, but the other part was terrified of how that would work out, especially if your dad was home and wanted to know why his best friend was frantic to see his daughter.

Shit. JB. Joel still needed to figure out how to navigate that part of this entire situation. The two of you could like each other all day long, but how would JB react?

Joel envisioned several scenarios that ended with him getting his nose bashed in by your old man. He wasn’t looking forward to that.

“What about JB?” Joel finally broke the silence, looking once again to his younger brother for guidance. “If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”

Placing his empty bottle on the patio table between them, Tommy nodded. “Ok. Let’s think about this. Do you always check with a chick’s dad before askin’ her out?”

“’Course not, but this is different.”

“I get that but hear me out. What if you try before you buy?” Tommy asked.

Joel immediately stiffened. “I’m not gonna just fuck her before asking her on a date. Jesus, Tommy.” Not that he didn’t want to fuck you… he most certainly did, but Joel wanted to do this right. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted something meaningful, and he suspected you would as well.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole. Ya can quit clutchin’ your pearls like you ain’t banged a chick before the first date before.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled again. Little brothers were the worst no matter what age they were.

“Jeez, alright, fine. You’re really into her, I get it. I’m not sayin’ sleep with her first. I’m suggestin’ you ask her out and see where this is goin’ before you go to JB with your tail between your legs, is all.” Tommy explained, already getting fed up with how easily Joel got his feathers ruffled.

Considering the advice, and ignoring his brother’s snippy tone, Joel bobbed his head in a nod. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I’m full of good ideas, sometimes. I got another one, actually. Get your grumpy ass to the store and buy some new shirts. Everything you own is at least ten years old and worn down. You need to dress better if you’re gonna date a younger woman.”

Another point to Tommy. He sure was racking them up.

“Fine. I fuckin’ hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Joel grumbled, looking down at the tee shirt he was wearing. It used to be black and faded to a cloudy gray from years of wearing and washing. “You mind watchin’ Sarah for a while so I can run to the mall?”

“Not at all, brother. I was hoping to watch the game on your flat screen anyway.” Tommy led the way back inside the house.

Emily: Sounds like you need some retail therapy, asap.

The pair of you spent the past hour texting about Joel’s date the night before. Emily’s emoji reactions were priceless as you recounted seeing them together at the movie theater and she was pissed on your behalf when you told her about the lipstick mark on his cheek. The conversation came full circle before Emily suggested the retail therapy.

You: Omg do I ever. Mall?

Emily: I can’t ☹ Ed wants my help with the garden. Again. I swear, I hate this fucking garden.

You: Booo. How dare you pick your husband over me

Emily: I gotta go with the one who has the bigger dick. Ur girl has needs u know that 😉

You: Yeah yeah. Chat later?

Emily: You bet. Have fun. Buy lots!

An hour later, you walked through Barton Creek Square, window shopping with a chocolate smoothie clutched in your hand. Not sure exactly what you were in the mood for, you started with clothing. This mall was a bit upscale for your budget, but you always enjoyed perusing the department store discount racks. Tossing your empty cup into the garbage can, you entered the large store.

Somehow, you found yourself searching through flannel shirts in the men’s department. Stopping for a moment once you realized what you were doing, you sighed. There was no escaping thoughts of Joel Miller, even subconsciously, it seemed. Huffing in frustration, you turned to walk back to the women’s section where you’d find things you actually needed when you heard your name.

Joel stood on the other side of the rack, eyes wide with surprise at the sight of you. His cheek was clean, no lipstick mark in sight, you noted. Just the normal, totally endearing patchy scruff. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” you stated the obvious with a shrug, delighted at the pink tinge creeping up his cheeks.

“Me, too. Obviously.” Joel nodded, rolling his eyes – at you or himself, you weren’t sure. “I could use your help, actually.”

You weren’t expecting that. He looked at you with such open hope in his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. “Ok, shoot.” Your heart nearly exploded at the smile that spread across his face, putting his dimple on full display.

“I can’t decide which of these to go with,” Joel replied, holding up several flannels. After a moment, he put those across the top of the discount rack and held up a pile of tee shirts. “Or these.”

Eyes taking in the details of each selection – he had good taste; you could picture each option on him – you hummed. “Have you tried any of them on?” Joel shook his head, the mop of curls swaying deliciously with the movement. “Ok. Go try them on. That’s usually how I decide.”

Turning toward the fitting room with a nod, Joel paused and turned back around. “Come with me? I need your honest opinion on each one.”

Brow furrowed, you followed behind him wordlessly, eyes straying to his backside of their own accord. He wore the same dark, fitted jeans as last night and you swore beneath your breath at yet another reminder of his date. No amount of staring at his nice ass could pull that jealous feeling from your gut. He went on a date with someone and for all you knew, it could have been the best damn date of his entire damn life.

Leaning back against the wall opposite the fitting room Joel chose, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and wondered what the hell you were doing. You came to the mall for a distraction, to treat yourself and get your mind off the man on the other side of the fitting room door. Now you were… what? His wardrobe consultant?

Helping Joel pick out new clothes seemed like the job of a girlfriend, not his daughter’s babysitter. Let’s face it, you thought, that’s all you were to him. Mood growing sourer by the second, you startled as the door ripped open in front of you.

“What do you think?”

The universe was a fickle bitch. It wasn’t fair that Joel stood there looking like the man of your dreams and you didn’t get to call him yours.

The first shirt Joel tried on fit like a glove, like the factory made it with his frame as the model in mind. The material had just the right amount of stretch across the breadth of his chest and shoulders, while hanging on for dear life around his biceps.

After ogling him for far too long, your eyes finally met Joel’s. “Looks good,” you said, the cadence of your voice not giving away the riotous flutter of desire flaring to life deep in your lower belly. “Let’s see the next one.”

Chocolate eyes sparkled with delight at your response as Joel slipped back into the fitting room. What you wouldn’t give to follow him in there. Already picturing it in your mind, you would slip to your knees in front of him, fingers undoing his belt and the button of his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. You’d wind one hand inside his pants to trace the curve of his cock through his boxer briefs before slipping the length of him out of the little secret pocket. Joel would be trying on his shirts as your lips—

“How about this one?”

“Jesus fucking nutcracker!” you exclaimed, Joel’s voice jolting you right out of that wonderful little daydream. So deep into the fantasy, you hadn’t heard the fitting room door open.

Concerned, Joel reached out a hand, his calloused fingertips and palm running over the bare skin of your forearm as you steadied yourself. “Do, uh… do you have Tourette’s or something?”

Bemused, you blinked up at him, head thumping back against the wall. “What? No, no. I was just lost in thought, and you startled me.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with having Tourette’s, you know.” Joel tripped over himself to make sure you didn’t think he was making fun of the disorder.

You waved him off. “Of course not.” Clearing your throat, eyes closing to recenter yourself, you counted to ten. The heat of Joel’s gaze like a burn on your skin, you opened your eyes and assessed his shirt. It was nice, a deep burgundy color, but the fit differed from the last one. You hated it. “I like the way the other one fit you better.”

The pattern continued until Joel tried on every shirt in his pile. You managed to keep your mind from straying again by making conversation.

“How did your date go last night?” You dreaded the answer but needed to know.

“It was… I’ve had better dates. She talked a lot,” he said through the fitting room door. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over, honestly. I just wanted to be home.”

“So, no second date then?” you confirmed, butterflies beginning to take flight in your belly.

“Hell no.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the conviction in Joel’s voice, but you tried not to let it show on your face or in your voice as he stepped through the door. “That’s too bad. You deserve to find someone great, Joel.”

He looked at you for a long time, his eyes penetrating like he was trying to tell you something without using words. You just had no idea what. You were about to bid him farewell as he paid for the shirts you chose – the bluish gray tee shirt that fit him so well and a flannel with similar hues, and two more just like them – when he stopped you.

“Uh, would you have lunch with me?” he asked shyly, eyes brimming with such eager hopefulness you nearly melted.

Part of you wanted to turn him down over hurt feelings he wasn’t even aware of, but you couldn’t. Not after what he just told you about his date. The other part of you screamed not to read too much into it, that he wasn’t asking you on a date. It would just be lunch with your boss. But the final part of you, the hopeless romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve and just helped the man pick out clothes like a girlfriend would, screamed that this could be your chance to get closer, that it could be a date if you made it one.

Fearing you stayed silent too long arguing with yourself, you rushed out a quick, “Sure.” Joel’s face lit up like you’d never seen before. He didn’t look anywhere near this happy when he left for his dinner date the night before.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part IX (act I)

Word count: 11,504 Warnings: Blood/injury, violence, death, animal death, temporary dismemberment, dissociation, self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, fictional racism/xenophobia, panic attacks Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?

A/N: This took a ridiculously long time to write and got way longer than I’d originally intended so uhhh happy belated holidays? There’s a lot in this one that I’m excited to show y’all so I really hope u enjoy it, pls reblog/comment if u do, it means a lot.

Also this chapter has been split into two parts bc Tumblr is a hoe with a paragraph limit, link to the second half at the end. And as always, this is part of a series, so the previous chapters can be found on my au directory here. - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part IX (act I) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony

~*~

Somewhere in Double Life, a player kneels in a bloody wheat field.

Jimmy’s senses are flooded with iron. He’s regenerated enough health that his nose isn’t actively bleeding anymore, but he’s sure it’s still all over his face. As he finally pulls away from Tango, he realizes he’s smeared plenty of it on Tango’s shoulder. The blood on Tango’s chin and claws hasn’t fully dried yet, either. And through his slightly parted mouth, Jimmy can see it’s stained his teeth.

(Did you see what he did back there?)

(He was like an animal.)

(How long do you think he’s been keeping that in?)

Jimmy pushes the thoughts away. Focus on the here and now.

To be fair, though, the ‘here and now’ is a horrible place. The ranch is burning behind them. His eyes are burning from the tears and the smoke in the air. His throat feels tight and scratchy. He’s physically and emotionally exhausted, the weight of it dragging him down, sinking into the trampled soil beneath him. The singed edges of his wings are still stinging, but it’s an easily forgotten pain among everything else.

Jimmy hates crying. Especially in public. Really, nothing makes him feel more useless and pathetic than crying. But he has to admit, he’s at least a little calmer and more clear-headed. Now that he’s cried himself out, his awareness is gradually returning to the conversation going on around him.

“What in’a world was that about?!” Bdubs cries out, sounding absolutely flabbergasted.

“Yeah, who were those guys, anyway?” Etho asks, knitting his brows together. “How’d they get here?”

Joel makes a distressed noise. “They shouldn’t be able to open a portal here, this is a private world!”

“I know, I know, okay,” Grian gripes, “I’m workin’ on it. Hang on-”

“And what was all that nonsense about doggelpangers?” Scar pauses. “Uh, dop- doppabang-”

“Doppelgängers?” Cleo calls over wryly.

Scar hangs his head. “Dang it. Yes, that.”

“I dunno, but what if they come back?” Joel asks nervously. “What should we do?”

Isn’t that the question?

Jimmy takes quick stock of his surroundings. Grian is standing a little way’s off from Jimmy’s huddle, head bent down as he furiously scrolls through his communicator, the screen reflecting in his tinted glasses. Scar is hovering next to Grian, peering keenly over his shoulder, his bow held limply at his side. Both of them look a little roughed up from the battle, but alright for the time being.

Etho, still crouched at the spot where Bravo died, is searching through the dropped items. Joel is pacing in front of the broken portal frame and casting anxious glances at it, one hand gripping his sword while the other rakes through his hair, antennae twitching with agitation. There are a few scrapes and gashes between them- mostly superficial and likely to heal on their own.

Pearl’s wolf pack has been considerably thinned out- something Jimmy notes with a pang of guilt- but there’s still plenty of them milling about the place. With blood-matted fur and tucked tails, it’s clear they took a beating. Pearl herself must’ve gone, from the way they sniff and look around aimlessly, giving plaintive yips and whines. Scott is conspicuously absent as well, another hint as to the bonded pair’s fate. Jimmy’s sure they’ll be along soon.

Bigb and Ren are also nowhere to be seen- likely more casualties of the battle. Ren makes for a rather large target when in wolf mode; he probably drew a lot of enemy fire. And of course, Bigb would’ve gone with him. Box is quite a way from the ranch, Jimmy recalls, so it’ll take them a few minutes to get back.

Martyn is busy mining up the rest of the portal frame, seeming none the worse for wear. Cleo sits a couple yards away, one leg stretched out in front of her. The other one has been chopped clean off at the knee, and is clenched in their hand- but wait, it does that sometimes, Jimmy reminds himself before he can panic. The detached limb isn’t even bleeding, and she’s already pulling some string from her inventory to stitch it back on, seeming more inconvenienced than anything else.

Bdubs, across the field, looks no more beat-up than he always does. He’s fussing over his horse, snatching up stray bits of wheat to heal as it struggles to get its legs under it. Impulse’s horse, devoid of rider, has wandered off towards the barn- perhaps hearing the other horses inside. Impulse himself is crouched beside Jimmy and Tango, his golden eyes intently studying the collar that’s been locked around Tango’s neck.

Tango is still completely silent. He doesn’t move or give any indication that he’s at all mentally present, just kneeling idly in the dirt, expression blank, eyes distant. Nothing but static through their soul bond. He doesn’t seem to be seriously injured- most of the blood stains aren’t his. That realization isn’t as relieving as Jimmy wants it to be.

Grian clears his throat. “Right. First thing’s first, are we all still here?” he asks, scanning his communicator. “No one went through the portal?”

“Nah, all good,” Martyn calls over his shoulder as the final obsidian block pops onto the ground.

Etho has his communicator pulled up too. “Yeah, uh, just looks like Scott and Pearl got killed,” he reports. “Ren and Bigb, too. I’ll shoot ‘em a message, see if they’re alright.”

“Right, okay.” Grian chews his lip, wings ruffling. “And all the other fellas are gone?”

Etho nods. “Yep.”

“Okay-”

“G,” Scar cuts in, tugging on Grian’s sleeve, “you gotta respawn before that injury sets in.”

Grian shrugs him off. Only now does Jimmy realize he’s holding one of his wings closer to his body than the others, the one that took an arrow during the fight. “Gimme a second-”

”Um, guys?” Martyn says suddenly, pointing at the ranch. “Fire tick is on, yeah?”

Grian looks up at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Hoo boy. Yeah, we need’ta get a ditch around the ranch, okay, or else the whole forest’ll go.” He casts a sidelong look at Jimmy, expression apologetic. “Tim, do you mind…?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “No,” he says hoarsely, “no, no, by all means. Whatever you need to… oh gosh, it’s all gonna go. It’s gone, isn’t it? It’s-” His voice breaks, and he quickly looks away, fresh tears welling in his eyes.

It wasn’t much, the ranch.

Only two floors- three counting the basement- and a bit tight on space. It wasn’t the most impressive build, not by a long shot. Certainly not when compared to the other builds on this world. It was something that would’ve taken two actually competent builders nothing more than a dedicated afternoon to put together. Plainly decorated, and comprised mostly of wood and stone variants. Nothing that’s particularly hard to obtain. And in all honesty, it was just a starter base; they were going to outgrow it sooner or later, anyways.

But it was theirs. 

It was the scorch marks in the wood from Tango’s blaze rods, in the moments where his emotions got away from him. It was the rocking chair where Jimmy liked to do his embroidery, when he needed to unwind after a busy day. It was the auto-sorting storage room that Tango spent weeks fine-tuning. It was the small but cozy living room that Jimmy decorated with potted flowers. It was the kitchen that always smelled faintly of charcoal, and the wool rug in the foyer that came from their own sheep, and the bedroom that they shared with an east-facing window to let them watch the sunrise together, on the rare days when Tango was awake early enough to see it.

The ranch is burning, and there’s nothing Jimmy can do about it.

(Great. Gonna start crying again, are you?)

(What exactly is that going to accomplish?)

(Man up! Don’t be so pathetic.)

A gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder makes him look up. Martyn is there, sympathy glimmering in his eye. “We’ll save what we can,” he promises.

Jimmy manages a grateful smile, blinking away his tears. “Thanks.”

Martyn nods before straightening back up. “Etho, Joel, you got water buckets on ya?”

“Oh, yeah.” Etho puts his communicator away as he and Joel start toward the ranch, buckets in hand. “Yeah, here, let’s make an infinite source..”

“Right. I’ll get the ditch started, then,” Cleo chimes in, rising to their feet now that both legs are once again intact.

Grian makes an appreciative noise, still tapping away at his communicator. “Okay, so that’s done-”

“Grian,” Scar says again, more insistently. “You gotta-”

“Hang on!” Grian huffs. He looks up to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “Okay, so uh, I can’t ban them… but what I’m gonna do is lock the world down,” he explains, taking a few steps over. “No one goes in or out… not even through a backdoor portal. This is just a temporary solution, but it should do the trick for now.”

Relief washes over Jimmy. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

(Good thing Grian is here to clean up your mess, huh?)

“Hey, guys?” Impulse speaks up, making Jimmy startle. “Um, Tango… he’s not lookin’ so good.”

That’s putting it kindly. Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Right. We should prob’ly get him inside, um…” He trails off as he instinctively looks at the ranch, which is on fire.

Right.

Impulse gives him a comforting look. “C’mon, you guys can crash at our place.” He rises to his feet, calling out, “Bdubs, would you bring the horses over?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec,” Bdubs shouts back. He’s finally gotten his horse standing again, glancing around for Impulse’s. “C’mere, stupid- hey! No, don’t wander off…”

“You finished, Grian?” Scar asks impatiently, notching an arrow.

“Okay, okay, hang on…” Grian presses a couple more buttons before putting his communicator away. “There, it’s done. Now, I’m gonna do some diggin’ and see what I can find out about this. But, um…” His gaze sweeps over Tango, expression pinched. “As soon as Tango is up for it… we all need to have a serious chat, okay?”

The wording immediately puts Jimmy off. He can feel his feathers bristling, his wings flaring out almost unconsciously to block Tango from view. “Wh- hey, this wasn’t his fault!” he protests.

Grian holds his hands up. “Ey, I know, I know,” he says lightly. His lower wings sweep out and flatten into a sort of fan as he crouches; an appeasing gesture. “None of us think that, okay? But clearly those guys came here for him, so we need’ta figure out why and how if we’re gonna figure out how to stop it from happenin’ again. Alright?”

Jimmy takes a breath, letting his feathers smooth over again. “Right. You’re right, sorry,” he mumbles.

(Wow, so defensive.)

(Like you could protect him, anyways.)

(Have you no faith in your own friends?)

Grian glances at Impulse. “You got them, Impulse?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Impulse assures him.

Scar draws back his bow. “Any day now, Grian…”

“Okay.” Grian turns around with an exasperated sigh. “Alright, Scar-”

He disappears in a puff of respawn smoke. Scar immediately follows him, his bow clattering to the ground amidst the shower of other items.

Impulse exhales in what might’ve been a laugh, if he didn’t sound so tired. He turns to Jimmy. “Can you stand?” he asks, holding out his hand.

(Look, they all think you’re weak, too!)

Jimmy feels himself flush. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, his tone short. Ignoring Impulse’s hand, he struggles to his feet unaided, wings flapping about to help keep his balance.

And then he feels incredibly silly about it. These are his friends, for goodness sakes.

“Thanks,” Jimmy adds, to soften it. “But Tango, I dunno if he… I mean, normally I’d carry him, but right now, I think- I think I’d drop him,” he confesses. Already, the effort of just standing on his own is starting to fatigue him.

Impulse just nods, a knowing look in his eye. “Yeah, no problem.” Slowly, he crouches down next to Tango again. “Hey, Tango, buddy?” he calls softly. “Can you hear me? It’s Impulse. I’m gonna pick you up now, if that’s okay?”

Tango doesn’t respond. Carefully, Impulse gathers Tango into his arms in a cradle hold- which Tango doesn’t react to besides curling in on himself a little more. His breathing quickens for a few seconds before he settles down again.

“Sorry,” Impulse whispers.

Jimmy swallows. He’s never known Tango to be so quiet, so still. It’s incredibly disturbing to see. And gosh, he knows Tango’s pale, but right now he looks about as white as quartz.

The events of this afternoon were a lot for anyone to handle. Jimmy’s still only working with bits and pieces, of course. He knows that Tango originally came from a terrible world called Hels, escaped from that creepy scientist guy Dr. Atlas, and has been hiding out on Hermitcraft ever since. So it’s not surprising that Tango got a nasty shock when his past suddenly came knocking at his door- literally, in Bravo’s case.

But Jimmy also knows that Tango is quite tough. He’s not the type to shut down in the face of hardship- in fact, he’ll often go the opposite direction, with manic bursts of frantic energy. So for a reaction this extreme… either that collar they put on him is having a more drastic effect than Jimmy realized, or there’s something more to the story he isn’t aware of.

Before the collar dampened their soul bond, the fear Jimmy felt from Tango had been damn near overwhelming. What could those Hels players have done to him to elicit such a strong reaction? Jimmy dreads to think of it.

The sound of hoofbeats pulls Jimmy out of his musings.

“Here I am!” Bdubs announces loudly, leading a horse by each hand. “Got the hawsies all ready t’go- oh, hey, waugh- what happened to him?” he gasps, his horrified gaze falling on Tango, wide eyes going even wider. “Wha’ th- is he okay?!”

Impulse gives him a tired smile. “Bdubs, I know we’re outside right now, but indoor voice, please? I’ll explain later.”

“Oh, okay!” Bdubs immediately drops into a stage whisper, ducking his head sheepishly. “Right, right, right, right, right, sorry.” He eyes Tango nervously for another moment. “Jeeze, they really… okay, okay, okay, right. Let’s go.”

With an appreciative look, Impulse moves beside one of the horses. Shifting his hold on Tango, he hikes one foot up into the stirrup and swings onto the horse’s back, forked tail lashing through the air.

Bdubs follows suit, climbing onto his own horse before glancing down at Jimmy. “Uh- you wanna ride wi’ me, Jimmy?” he asks, still whispering.

“That’d be great, thanks,” Jimmy says gratefully. Just the thought of walking or flying to their base makes him feel like all his bones have turned to slime.

His own attempt to get on the horse doesn’t go anywhere near as smoothly. With someone else already in the saddle, it’s a clumsy maneuver, his flailing wings more of a hindrance than anything. In the end, Bdubs grabs the back of Jimmy’s shirt and helps haul him up. That only makes Jimmy feel worse. Bdubs is so much smaller than him, how did he manage that?

“Okay…” Bdubs glances over his shoulder as Jimmy gets settled. “You alright back there?”

“Yep, yep, I’m good,” Jimmy says quickly. He clears his throat. “Can we- can we get goin’?” He’s anxious to leave this depressing scene behind and get Tango someplace calmer.

Bdubs nods. “Okay. Uh- hang on tight, and you’d better keep those wings folded or else you- you’ll be blown right off’a this thing!” He turns to Impulse. “We go now!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Impulse urges his horse forward, and Bdubs swiftly follows.

The horses gallop away from the ranch.

Jimmy does as he’s told, leaning forward to put his arms around Bdubs’s shoulders and tucking his wings tightly against his back. The jostling of the horse’s stride isn’t kind to his aching muscles and bones, but he’s not about to complain. Right now he feels completely out of sorts- like a stranger in his own skin.

As exhausted as his body is, his mind is absolutely racing. He can’t stop thinking about what Bravo said, that Tango was to blame for his being in Hels. And Tango hadn’t really denied it.

From what Jimmy can recall from today’s chaotic events, Tango used to be in Hels, and then a portal appeared. He went through it to Hermitcraft, and somehow, that got Bravo sent to Hels. That seems to be the conclusion they’ve come to. And Tango didn’t know about it at first, but he’s known about it for a couple years at this point, and said nothing.

(How selfish of him.)

But it wasn’t Tango’s fault! He didn’t intentionally send Bravo there, and he only kept his knowledge secret because he was afraid he’d get sent back himself if he revealed the truth. That’s… really upsetting. If Tango didn’t trust the Hermits enough to tell them, after spending nearly a decade getting to know them, it’s no wonder he didn’t tell Jimmy.

Has Tango spent this whole time feeling like a fugitive in his own home?

And what is Hels, really? What kind of world doesn’t allow portal travel in and out? The way they’d spoken about it, it almost seemed like a prison. But created by who? And why?

What exactly is a Hels player? What does a ‘doppelgänger’ entail, exactly? Because if Tango is supposed to be an evil version of Bravo, Jimmy is clearly missing something, ‘cause he doesn’t buy that for a second.

Do all players have a Hels counterpart? Does Jimmy? Oh, now there’s a disturbing thought. Is there another Jimmy running around in a prison world somewhere, locked away from the rest of the universe?

Now that he’s aware of the possibility, he isn’t sure this is something he can just forget about.

But he knows his questions will have to wait. Tango is hardly in the condition to be discussing any of this- getting him recovered from his shock is Jimmy’s first priority. He’s about to ask how far away they are when two figures appear in the distance.

It’s Scott and Pearl, on the way back from their respawns. Pearl is preoccupied, intensely scanning her communicator as she walks. But Scott spots them immediately, nudging Pearl with his elbow and lifting a hand to wave them over.

Impulse glances over his shoulder at Bdubs and Jimmy. “Guess we’d better go see what they want,” he says as he steers his horse towards the pair, Bdubs following suit.

Pearl looks up at their approach. Her respawn must’ve taken care of any injuries she sustained from the battle, because she seems like her usual red-eyed self. But there’s an unmistakable air of anxiety about her- one that Scott seems to share, based on his terse expression.

“Impulse!” Pearl shouts, as soon as she’s within proximity hearing range. “You seen Tilly ‘round?”

Impulse eases his horse to a stop. “Oh, uh- she’s the one with the dyed collar, right?” he asks, knitting his brows together. “Yeah, yeah I’m pretty sure she was back at the wheat field.” 

Pearl exhales heavily. “Oh, thank goodness. I- I lost so many dogs, I wasn’t sure…” She puts her communicator away, looking them up and down. “So uh, is everyone alright? Are… you guys alright?” she asks uncertainly, quirking a brow.

“We’re fine,” Impulse assures her easily. He jerks his head back in the direction they came from. “The others are dealing with the ranch right now, it’s uh… it’s a pretty big fire, I’m sure they’d appreciate some help.”

Pearl follows his gaze, eyes widening at the plume of smoke still visible above the trees. “Oh gosh, yeah, we’d better get goin’, then.”

“You alright, Timmy?” Scott speaks up suddenly. 

“Huh?” Jimmy startles at being addressed. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Mmm.” Scott doesn’t look convinced, his sharp eyes studying Jimmy’s face before flicking over to Tango. “Is Tango alright? Where’d tha’ thing on his neck come from?”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “Um…” He isn’t sure how much he should be sharing with the others, while Tango’s incapacitated like this.

Luckily for him, Impulse cuts in. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, “we’ve got it covered. You guys go check in with the others, okay?”

It’s not a very subtle hint, but Scott allows it. “Alriiiight,” he drawls, holding his hands up. “Just remember you’ve got help if y’want it.”

“I appreciate it,” Impulse hums, but Jimmy catches the flash of relief in his eyes as he turns his horse away.

“Yeah, ‘preciate ya!” Bdubs echoes as they ride off.

They ride in silence for a few moments, until they’re out of proximity range, before Impulse clears his throat. “I just think Tango would appreciate some privacy right now,” he explains quietly. “You know everyone else- they’d all want to help and see if he’s okay, but a big group would probably freak him out.”

“Ah.” Jimmy nods. “Good thinkin’.”

(Gee, Impulse is really taking charge, huh?)

(You’re basically useless.)

(He would’ve been a way better soulmate for Tango than you.)

The thoughts make Jimmy flinch. He hasn’t often felt insecure in his relationship with Tango, despite having known him for a much shorter time than the Hermits. But right now, his general lack of knowledge and experience in how best to help Tango has become glaringly obvious.

Thankfully, before he can spend any more time feeling sorry for himself, Impulse and Bdubs’s house finally comes into view.

They’ve added another floor since Jimmy was last here. Floor-to-ceiling windows made of light gray panes curl around one side of the building, continuing with the sleek mid-century modern design. The front yard has received some landscaping as well; a wide, circular path that frames a small cluster of custom trees and shrubbery before leading to the dark oak door, framed by neat flower beds on either side.

As they come up on the house, Impulse and Bdubs turn their horses along a branch of path that veers off from the main circle, taking them towards a small structure built against the house’s side. Made only out of diorite wall posts and a flat, deepslate tiled roof, it creates sort of an overhang, divided into two compartments with warped stem fence posts. Its purpose quickly becomes obvious as Bdubs hops off his horse and pulls a lead from his inventory, leashing his horse to one of the posts.

Jimmy swings his leg around to slide off the horse, dropping onto the ground with an ungraceful grunt. In the stall beside them, Impulse has carefully dismounted from his own steed, still cradling Tango in his arms.

The longer Jimmy looks, the more his chest aches with longing. So he looks away.

“Alright, let’s get inside.” Impulse’s voice is soft. He turns back towards the front of the house. “This way.”

Bdubs finishes hitching the other horse to its post. “Right behind ya!” he chirps. He pats Jimmy on the arm as he passes- an encouraging, or perhaps comforting, gesture.

Either way, Jimmy appreciates it. He knows Bdubs tends to diffuse tense situations with humor, or by maintaining an energetic demeanor. It might be mistaken as inconsiderate, in some situations, but he seems to know where the line is. Genuinely, Jimmy thinks he’d feel worse if Bdubs was suddenly walking on eggshells around him.

Pity is a suitor that won’t take a hint, no matter how many times Jimmy turns it away.

He follows Impulse and Bdubs around the front of the house. Bdubs has already scrambled ahead to open the door for Impulse, whose arms are, of course, full of Tango. He ushers Jimmy in after them with a wide sweep of his arm.

They’ve moved their bedroom upstairs at some point, it seems. The main floor is now a dedicated living space with a modest kitchen in the back, overlooked by a loft from the second floor. An L-shaped lounge made of quartz stairs is built into the conversation pit occupying the center of the room, surrounding a small fireplace. The glass panes encasing it go all the way up to the ceiling, but the sight of fire makes Jimmy flinch anyways- which he immediately kicks himself for.

(Jeeze, man, get a grip! What if Tango saw that?)

If Impulse and Bdubs noticed, they don’t comment on it. Impulse silently leads the way up a spiral quartz slab staircase, which opens up into the loft. Bdubs’s interior work is clearly showing here, with cozy seating nestled beside a custom bookshelf-console unit. Straight ahead past the loft is a short hallway with a couple doors on either side.

Impulse stops at the first one on the right. “We got a spare room here,” he says, nodding his head at the door.

“Not finished yet!” Bdubs adds hastily, though still making an effort to keep his voice low. “Or uh, heugh- furnished. I’m gonna- I was gonna do the interior, I swear.”

Somehow, the fact that Bdubs is concerned Jimmy will judge his lackluster interior decoration- despite everything else going on right now- makes Jimmy crack a smile. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers, ey?” he jokes.

“Oh, very freaking funny!” Bdubs huffs, but he’s grinning, too. He opens the door for them, and Jimmy lets Impulse carry Tango inside before following.

The room is, as expected, fairly bare bones. Quartz walls and a dark oak floor carry over the mid-century modern theme from the exterior, but there’s no furniture other than a double-wide cyan bed against the wall. A couple of haphazardly-placed torches on the walls provide the room’s only lighting.

“No windows yet, either,” Bdubs mutters, clicking his tongue as his critical gaze sweeps over the room. “I need ta- I- I still gotta figure out how to place ‘em, with the exterior wall and stuff.”

“It’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. Windows would make him feel a bit too exposed right now, if he’s being honest.

Impulse carefully sets Tango down on the bed. “Okay, Tango, here we are.” He straightens up, running a hand through his hair as he exhales heavily.

Bdubs crosses quickly-but-quietly over to Impulse, wrapping him in a hug. “You okay, sweetie?” he asks softly.

Impulse smiles down at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” Bdubs goes up on his toes to kiss Impulse’s cheek- and even so, he barely makes it. “I’m gonna go check on our boys, then, and see if the others need help with th- with the uh, the ranch. D’you- is there anything you want me to tell ‘em?”

“Yeah,” Impulse says thoughtfully, “maybe just let them know that we’d like to give Tango and Jimmy some privacy right now? We’ll let them know if we need anything, and we’ll chat more once everything’s calmed down.”

“Right, okay.” Bdubs glances at Jimmy. “That- is that good? For you?”

Jimmy is taken aback by the amount of consideration he’s being given. “Oh yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Alright.” Bdubs casts one final look at Tango, trying but failing to hide his worry from those big eyes of his. “Alright, I- I’ll be back in a little.” 

He slips out the door, leaving them alone.

Before an awkward silence can descend, Impulse clears his throat. “So uh, looks like someone got you pretty good,” he says, gesturing to his face.

“Huh?” Confused, Jimmy brings a hand to his face- only to jerk away as his fingers brush against his nose. Now that he’s actually paying attention, there’s a dull ache of pain radiating down the bridge of his nose, and underneath the still-sticky blood, he can feel a prominent bump where there wasn’t one before.

“Oh, right,” he murmurs. “Forgot about that.”

“Yeah, looks broken,” Impulse says sympathetically. “Need a respawn?”

Jimmy pauses. It’s difficult to tell when an injury will result in lasting damage- no one’s really cracked that particular scientific riddle yet. But generally, it’s understood that the sooner the respawn, the better the outcome. That’s why things like creeper explosions hardly ever leave a mark, since the death is usually instant.

More so, superficial wounds tend to be less likely to scar than deeper, more structural wounds. A simple gash will almost always go away after respawning- if it hasn’t already healed on its own- but things like broken bones can linger in the form of scars, joint deformities, and chronic pain. If he’s being smart, he really should get a quick respawn in, just to be sure.

But they’re on the Double Life world, and right now, his life isn’t just his own.

Jimmy looks Tango over. None of his wounds are serious enough to warrant a respawn, he only got a little scuffed up in the initial attack. In his current state, it’d probably do more harm than good.

“No,” Jimmy decides, “I… I can’t do that to him, not right now. He’s disoriented as it is.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Besides, I think it’s just the cartilage. Either it’ll heal on my next respawn, or it won’t, and it’ll just match the rest of my face.”

Impulse doesn’t laugh at the self-deprecating joke, simply offering a sad smile. “Alright. I’ll see if Martyn can bring some healing potions by once they finish up at the ranch, I’m pretty sure he’s got a brewing set-up.”

Jimmy’s throat tightens. “Right, thanks…” He smoothes a hand over the bed’s cover, setting his spawn anyways, before he eases himself onto the mattress. “Tango…?” he ventures. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

Tango has yet to move at all from where Impulse deposited him, back against the wall with his knees tucked to his chest, arms limp at his sides. He doesn’t acknowledge Jimmy at all- which isn’t anything malicious on his part, of course, but god does it hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy tries again. “Hey, Tango? It’s me, it’s Jimmy.” He puts a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder, watching him all the while for any sign that he’ll startle or panic. “It’s over, you’re safe now. Are- are you hurt anywhere? Do you need anythin’?”

Still nothing. Somewhere behind Jimmy, Impulse makes a noncommittal noise. “Jimmy, buddy, I don’t think that’s gonna work right now…”

Jimmy ignores him. “Please, Tango,” he pleads, feeling his eyes sting, “can you just…” Idly, he lifts his other hand to wipe some of the blood off Tango’s chin. “Can you look at me?”

Unexpectedly, that gets Tango’s attention. He lifts his face almost robotically to look at Jimmy, eyes and expression still devastatingly blank.

The sudden movement startles Jimmy, his hand jerking back. And as it does, Tango lets his head drop back down.

An image flashes in Jimmy’s mind; Atlas, the doctor with the blood red gloves, grabbing Tango by the chin and tilting his head up.

(Oh, that’s messed up.)

(You’ve really done it, now.)

(Brilliant, just brilliant.)

Jimmy’s stomach turns. He scrambles back, away from Tango, his heart starting to pound. “Sorry,” he whispers, even though Tango gives no indication that he’s hearing it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

A hand lands on his shoulder, making him jump. Impulse gives him an understanding look. “I… think he just needs some time to come out of it,” he says quietly. “Y’know, alone. When he shuts down like this, there’s really nothing to do but wait.”

Jimmy finds his voice again. “Wait, you’ve seen it before?” he asks, creasing his brows together.

Impulse winces. “A couple times, yeah.”

“Oh.�� Jimmy swallows, glancing back at Tango. “I dunno, I- I don’t wanna just leave him like this…”

“We can stay right outside,” Impulse says reassuringly, folding his arms. “It’s just… when he gets like this, I’m not sure he’s fully processing what’s going on. It’s like a defense mechanism. So he’s not gonna come out of it until he feels safe, and um… well…”

It’s not hard to catch his meaning. Jimmy bristles. “What, are you- are you sayin’ he doesn’t feel safe with me?” he snaps, which is so unfair because Impulse has been so helpful and so kind and he’s actually sort of right, but Jimmy can’t help it.

Impulse holds his gaze. “Not if he doesn’t recognize you.”

That sobers Jimmy a little, his wings sagging. “Oh. Oh, yeah, good point. You’re right.” Ducking his head, he swings his legs off the side of the bed and rises to his feet. “I guess he’ll be okay in here,” he relents. “But um, can we- would you mind if we put out the lights? It’s just…”

“Tango feels safer in the dark,” Impulse finishes, realization dawning in his eyes. “Good call.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy fidgets with his hands as Impulse collects the torches.

(Wow, he really knows Tango, huh?)

(Thank god someone knows what to do.)

(What exactly are you even here for?)

With the room now sufficiently darkened, Impulse holds the door open for Jimmy. Jimmy gives Tango a final look-over, his blank face now lit by the dim glow of his dampened blaze rods.

“We’ll be right outside if you need us, Tango,” Jimmy says in parting.

Tango remains silent as Impulse closes the door behind them.

As soon as they’re back in the hallway, all of Jimmy’s fatigue seems to hit him at once. He sways where he stands, shoulder bumping against the wall- the dull pain is easily ignored in favor of the black spots dancing across his vision. He squeezes his eyes shut, biting back a groan.

Fortunately, Impulse is there to steady him. “Woah, easy there.” He quickly guides Jimmy over to the loft to sit down. “Just breathe, okay?”

Jimmy takes a few slow, deep breaths- in through the nose, out through the mouth. When he opens his eyes again, the room is no longer spinning around him, so that’s a plus.

“Here,” Impulse presses something into Jimmy’s hand, “you must’ve worked up some hunger.”

It’s a golden carrot. “Thanks,” Jimmy murmurs, immediately starting to nibble on it. He probably does have food on him, somewhere in his inventory- cooked steak, most likely- but the extra saturation helps.

Seemingly satisfied that Jimmy isn’t going to pass out, Impulse sits down in the chair next to him. “How you feelin’?”

“Better, thanks,” Jimmy murmurs, shifting to fold his wings a bit more comfortably. He feels awkward and just… so out of place here. And Impulse is a nice guy, sure, but it’s a little embarrassing to have to be taken care of like a child. If it weren’t for Tango’s sake, he probably wouldn’t have accepted Impulse’s offer of help in the first place.

“Good.” Impulse looks him up and down, brows pinching together. “Jeeze, they really did a number on you. I’m sorry we weren’t there sooner, chat was chaos and we thought they’d be at spawn ‘til we saw your SOS.”

That comforts Jimmy a little. At least he managed to do something right. “It’s alright, not your fault,” he assures Impulse. “I mean, if you guys hadn’t come when you did…”

“Yeah.” Impulse nods solemnly. “That, uh… would’ve been pretty bad.”

Jimmy studies Impulse for a moment. Now that they have a second, there’s a question that’s been nagging at him. “So…” he starts, “how much did you hear, of what Bravo said?”

“Eh, bits and pieces.” Impulse shrugs. “Something about Tango being an evil doppelgänger from Hels.”

He says it so casually, like he’s talking about the weather. Jimmy’s stomach cinches. “Impulse…” he says carefully. “Did you… did you know?”

“What?” Impulse looks at him in surprise. “Oh, that Tango was from Hels? No. No, I never knew anything about before he came to Hermitcraft. But you know, I always kinda knew there was something… not great in his past. I mean, there were signs. I just figured he’d come from an anarchy server or something.” He knits his brows together. “I guess you… never saw what he was like, when he was still new, huh?”

Jimmy frowns. “Wha’d’you mean?”

Impulse makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s not my place to get into all that. But let’s just say… he’s come a long way since then. So um, looking back, it kinda makes sense.”

“So then…” Jimmy hesitates. “D’you believe what Bravo was saying? About what Hels are like?”

Impulse actually laughs- though not unkindly. “Oh, no, not by a long shot,” he assures Jimmy. “Don’t worry about that. I mean, there are players who think non-humans are bad, right? Like, there are still public servers out there that’ll ban Cleo soon as she joins, just for being a zombie.” He shrugs a shoulder, his forked tail idly flicking through the air. “Or me, for being a demon.”

“Oh.” Jimmy blinks, feeling stupid. “Right. It’s… so easy to forget, sometimes, that some folks still feel that way.”

Impulse tilts his head. “Well, not when you have to live it,” he says lightly.

“Oh. Oh!” Jimmy smacks his forehead. “No, no, right, of course,” he adds hastily, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it’s easy for you specifically to forget. Just, in general, I guess. ‘Cause most players don’t have that problem with avians- I mean, sometimes they think some of our traits are weird, sure, but uh- but it’s not the same thing, cause we aren’t hostile mob hybrids. Obviously. And- and none of my friends feel that way, either, so I just…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m not makin’ a lotta sense.”

Impulse gives him a gracious smile. “It’s okay, I know what you mean.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. “I’ve gotten so used to Hermitcraft, sometimes it catches me by surprise when I travel to public servers and people act scared, or… distrustful of me. And that’s without even seeing me in ‘full demon’ mode. So uh, even though I don’t know anything about this Hels world, I don’t believe that just being from there would automatically make someone evil. I know Tango better than that.”

Jimmy’s throat tightens. “Right…”

Now it’s Impulse’s turn to give him a sideways look. “... you don’t believe what Bravo said, do you?” he asks, voice low.

“What?” Jimmy blanches. Despite himself, he feels his wings puff up with indignation. “Gosh no, no, that’s- not in a million years, mate, it’s utter nonsense!”

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Impulse chuckles, holding his hands up. “I didn’t think you would. But you know, I just had to make sure.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy sighs, letting his feathers smooth down again. “You’re a good friend, Impulse,” he says, glancing away. “Seems like you know what to do, here. He’s gonna need that.”

“He’s gonna need you.” 

That makes Jimmy look up. “What?” 

Impulse’s expression softens. “I’ve known Tango a while, now, and even though there’s been plenty of fun and good times over the years… this is the first time I’ve seen him truly content. Like, he just seems at peace in a way I’ve never seen before. You do more for him than you’ll ever know- probably ‘cause he’s too scared to tell you.” There’s a knowing glint in his golden eyes. “Emotional vulnerability, uh, isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

A bittersweet smile tugs at Jimmy’s mouth. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Impulse claps him on the shoulder. “We’re gonna figure it out, okay? You guys aren’t alone in this.”

Warmth blooms in Jimmy’s chest. “Thank you, Impulse,” he says softly, “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Impulse returns his smile before sitting back in his chair. “Now, how about you get some rest?”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “Wh- no, wait,” he protests, “I’m not gonna leave-”

“You can stay right here!” Impulse assures him easily. “Just close your eyes and rest a bit. I’ll keep an eye out, and wake you up as soon as Tango comes to, okay? But right now, frankly, you look exhausted. And I’m sure you’ll wanna be well-rested for whenever Tango’s ready to talk about stuff.”

“Ah…” Chewing his lip, Jimmy glances over at the door to the spare room- mere steps away.

Since he forewent a respawn, he has to admit some shut-eye would be quite welcome at the moment. The immediate danger has passed. And right now, there’s nothing he can do to help Tango but give him some time. Might as well spend that time resting.

“I… suppose you’re right,” he relents finally. “But you gotta promise you’ll wake me if anythin’ happens, alright?”

Impulse nods. “I promise.”

“Right, then.” Jimmy settles into his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He fights back a yawn. “Thanks again. I- I mean it though… any little thing…”

“I know, I know.” Impulse waves him off. “Don’t worry.”

“Famous last words,” Jimmy quips, closing his eyes.

Impulse huffs a laugh but says nothing else.

Silence settles over the room, filled only by Impulse’s steady breathing and the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of him typing away on his communicator. He’s probably updating the others on the situation, so Jimmy can rest easy. He’s considerate like that.

Jimmy would’ve thought it’d be hard to fall asleep. This chair isn’t exactly built for it, and as lovely as Impulse and Bdubs’s home is, it’s not the ranch.

The loss is still fresh. He already knows it’s gonna hit him even harder in the coming days. But for right now, the post-adrenaline exhaustion is finally sinking in, and before he knows it, he’s drifted off into the inky blackness.

~*~

A gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder startles him awake.

“Jimmy,” Impulse whispers, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness, “wake up.”

It must’ve been quite a deep, dreamless sleep, because while it seems to Jimmy that he only just closed his eyes, he can clearly see through the window that it’s been at least several hours. The sun has long since set; a half moon is rising in the night sky. That’s alright with Jimmy- he was afraid he’d have nightmares.

Rubbing his eyes, Jimmy squints at Impulse. “What’s goin’ on? Everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Impulse scratches the back of his head. “I uh, I just heard a thud in Tango’s room so I went to check on him and- he’s fine, don’t worry!” he adds quickly, as Jimmy bolts upright. “He’s fine, he’s up, but he still seems kinda disoriented? Like, he’s conscious, but when I tried to go in… I guess I look a bit too intimidating,” he taps one of the curved horns poking out from his hair, “‘cause he growled at me.”

“Growled?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.

(Well, that’s promising.)

(Round two!)

(Here we go…)

“Yeah.” Impulse gives a sad smile. “So um, I think you should go try and talk to him, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh.” Jimmy blinks. “Oh, right, of course.” He rises to his feet, shaking off residual soreness from his awkward sleeping position.

Impulse pulls a lantern from his inventory and holds it out to Jimmy. “Give a shout if you need anything.”

Jimmy takes the lantern. “Right, thanks.” Steeling himself, he creeps over to the spare room, knocking lightly on the door- which is slightly ajar. “Tango…?” he calls softly, poking his head into the room. “You okay?”

The bed is empty, covers strewn in disarray. Tango is crouched in the corner farthest from the door, his back pressed against the wall. Hunched over and breathing hard, he stares at Jimmy, his blood-stained face lit by the faint glow of his blaze rods. His pupils are dilated again, lips curled back to show his teeth. There’s no recognition in his expression at all.

(You cannot sleep, there are monsters nearby.)

Jimmy swallows. His heart starts to pound. “Tango,” he starts tentatively, holding the lantern up so his face is clearly illuminated as he steps forward, “it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Tango makes a blaze noise deep in his throat; a haunting, hollow sort of growl. It’s unmistakably a warning.

Jimmy hesitates, wings shuffling uncertainly. How to get through to him? General reassurances don’t seem to be working. He needs to remind Tango of where he is, to convince him that he’s safe- in a way that only Jimmy would know.

He takes a breath. “Hey, rancher.”

Tango falls silent. Surprise flickers across his features, mouth parting, gaze sharpening. For a moment he just stares, motionless. Then he squints.

“... Jimmy?”

Oh, Jimmy could cry. “Yes, there we go!” he says encouragingly. “It’s me, it’s Jimmy. You okay, Tango?”

Tango’s breath hitches. He takes a single, careful step forward- then he halfs runs, half stumbles towards Jimmy.

Jimmy rushes to meet him, catching Tango before he falls. “Oh jeeze, okay…” Setting the lantern down on the bed, he lowers them to the floor, shifting so he can wrap Tango in his arms. “It’s alright, it’s alright…”

“Jimmy, thank god.” Tango clings to him just as tightly, face buried in Jimmy’s shirt. His claws dig into Jimmy’s skin just shy of being painful. “I- I woke up,” he gasps, “and the quartz- I thought I was…” He pulls away enough to scan Jimmy’s face, eyes wide and frightened. “Where are we? What- how long has it been?”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “Uh- we’re at Impulse and Bdubs’s place, and it’s been… several hours, I think? Half a day?”

“God.” A shudder runs through Tango. “That- that really happened, didn’t it?” He starts to breathe faster, his voice straining into that faint upper pitch that Jimmy’s come to associate with panic. “Oh god, I- I- I don’t- hhh, I c- can’t…”

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Jimmy soothes, rubbing circles on Tango’s back. “I’m here, you’re safe. It’s over. Just breathe.”

They stay like that for a while, Tango curled against Jimmy as he rides out the worst of it. He shakes violently, eyes squeezed shut, breath hitching as he tries to get control of it again. Jimmy’s heart aches for him- he wishes there was something more he could do to help.

But he knows from experience that just being here is enough.

It’s not terribly infrequent for Tango to have nightmares. Sometimes he simply startles awake at night, apologizes for waking Jimmy up, and goes back to sleep. If Jimmy asks about it the next morning, he brushes it off as nothing; just silly nonsense nightmares, the kind that are terrifying at the time but seem utterly ridiculous in the light of day. Nothing more than that.

And all this time, Jimmy believed him.

(What a fool.)

Jimmy’s only ever seen a couple nightmares cause a reaction as severe as this. The shaking, the shortness of breath, the panic. What helped in the past was simply holding Tango- offering a few reassurances, but mostly silent comfort. And of course, Tango never wanted to talk about those nightmares, and Jimmy didn’t want to push too hard. He’d figured that Tango would talk to him about it when he was ready.

(Fool me once, shame on you…)

Gradually, Tango calms down. His tremors cease, and his breathing starts to grow deeper. He’s still holding onto Jimmy, but it’s less desperate, now. More familiar. Jimmy curls his wings around them, as if providing another barrier, another layer of security.

After Tango’s been still and quiet for a few moments, Jimmy softly breaks the silence. “How much d’you remember?”

Tango takes a shaky breath. “All of it,” he whispers. “E- everything, I was- it was like I- I was watching everything happen to someone else, like I was outside my body…” He looks up to meet Jimmy’s gaze, eyes brimming with tears. “Jimmy, I- I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Jimmy frowns. “Tango, what on earth are you apologizing for?”

Abruptly, Tango pulls away. “I burned you,” he grits out.

“No, you-” Jimmy almost grabs him by the arm, but then thinks better of it. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Tango stares at him incredulously. “Wha’ th- what do you mean? Of course it was!” He rakes his claws through his hair. “I- I lost control, I set the ranch on fire, and you got burned.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Jimmy argues. “You didn’t do it on purpose, you were just defending yourself.”

“Doesn’t matter!” Tango throws his hands up. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten burned, true or false?”

(True!)

(He’s got a point…)

(Why are you arguing this?)

Jimmy doesn’t answer. “Look,” he says instead, “honestly, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine!”

“Well, you don’t look fine!” Tango says bluntly. Distress flashes across his face as he looks Jimmy up and down. “Your poor wings- and oh, your face! What, did- we didn’t respawn?”

Jimmy ducks his head. “I didn’t wanna put you through that,” he explains, wincing.

He can actually see the guilt in Tango’s eyes intensify. “Ohhh no,” he breathes, dismayed. “You- why did you…” Shaking his head, he fixes Jimmy with a firm look. “Okay, you- you need to respawn, now.”

“It’s not important,” Jimmy replies, just as stubbornly. He holds a hand out, beseeching. “Tango, please, I- I’ve been worried outta my mind about you. So much happened- ”

“I’m fine,” Tango says shortly.

“No, you’re not,” Jimmy insists, working hard not to raise his voice. “I mean, honestly, I- I don’t even know what that thing ‘round your neck is doin’!”

Tango shuts his mouth with a sharp click and glances away. 

That sobers Jimmy instantly. Tentatively, he scooches a bit closer to Tango. His eyes trace the collar- it’s so deceptively simple, so innocuous at first glance. Just a ring of smooth, flat iron. But clearly, there’s a lot more going on; a single red light above the keyhole hints at a mechanism hidden within.

“Do you… know what it is?” Jimmy ventures, giving Tango a searching look.

Tango’s jaw tightens. “It’s wither rose.”

Jimmy blinks, taken aback. “What? But… we aren’t withering, we aren’t takin’ damage-”

“It’s not…” Tango makes a noncommittal noise, waving a hand in an aborted gesture. “They’ve modified it, somehow, I dunno. It- it’s not the full effect. All it’s doin’ is dampening my fire.”

“And our soulbond,” Jimmy realizes, his stomach sinking. “After he put it on you, I- I couldn’t feel your emotions anymore. It’s just… numb.”

Tango’s face is grim. “That’s what wither rose does,” he says lowly.

The certainty in his voice is… somewhat concerning. Sure, any player who’s been ‘round the block will have learned what it feels like to be withered, at some point or another. But due to the tedious and somewhat risky nature of obtaining the roses by way of a wither farm, most players don’t regularly encounter them. And as far as aesthetics are concerned, they aren’t the most appealing flower, so when they are farmed, they’re mostly used for mass-producing black dye or as the killing method in a mob farm. Not as decor or landscaping, where a player might actually touch the rose and be subjected to the wither effect.

Personally, Jimmy can’t remember the last time he touched a wither rose, as a player who doesn’t make a habit of farming withers or even taking on the boss fight. But the tone of Tango’s voice right now is the tone of someone who is horribly familiar with the sensation.

“Tango…?” Jimmy prompts quietly. “Is there… somethin’ I should know?”

Tango swallows. He’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “I… I don’t wanna talk about it,” he whispers hoarsely. “Not right now?”

It’s almost a plea, and Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Okay. That’s okay,” he says gently, forcing down his disappointment; this isn’t about him. He rises to his feet, holding out his hand to Tango. “Here, come on, let’s… let’s get up on the bed, alright? It’s late, you need some proper rest.”

Tango hesitates, though he accepts Jimmy’s offered hand to help him up. “You need to respawn…”

“It can wait,” Jimmy says easily. He tries for a grin. “Honestly, I- I already knew I wasn’t exactly easy on the eyes, but I didn’t think it was that bad…”

“No,” Tango says quickly, “no, you’re not-” He makes a frustrated noise. “Your wings.”

Jimmy softens. “They’re just feathers. They’ll grow back.”

Sure, it might take a while if his follicles have been badly damaged, and his wings won’t be a pretty sight once all the burned feathers fall out. But most of his flight feathers are still intact, so in terms of places to get burned, it could’ve been much worse.

Tango huffs a breath, clearly still upset with himself. But he doesn’t protest further as Jimmy eases onto the bed, gently pulling Tango with him. After collecting the lantern so the room is properly dark again, Jimmy nestles under the covers, sweeping a wing out to lightly gather Tango beside him.

Tango settles against him, and it’s then that Jimmy realizes he isn’t as warm as he used to be.

He’s not cold, not by any means. But Tango has always run a bit hotter than the average player- a blaze hybrid trait that Jimmy’s quite fond of. It was the whole reason they first shared a bed, back in the early days of the world, and inadvertently plunged their relationship into new, terrifying depths. If it wasn’t for that moment, they likely would’ve danced around the issue for far longer, and been robbed of many precious days of happiness together. So even on warm nights, Jimmy will still cuddle up beside Tango. Even if he has to kick all the blankets off.

But with the collar dampening Tango’s fire, he’s been robbed of that, as well.

Jimmy swallows the lump in his throat and puts an arm around Tango, who curls into his side, head resting on his shoulder. Having Tango so close is immediately comforting. God, to think of how close he came to losing this, to never holding Tango again… 

It’s scary. It’s incredibly scary. There are few things in the universe that can really, truly cause lasting harm to a player. Injuries can heal upon respawn, death isn’t permanent- except for worlds where it is, then they just respawn on a different world and start again. But if those Hels people had succeeded in taking Tango through that hacked portal, into some isolated prison world that Jimmy has no way of finding… he’s afraid that would’ve destroyed him.

Jimmy turns his head to press a kiss onto Tango’s forehead, right between the dimmed blaze rods hovering around his temples. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Tango whispers back.

The room grows silent. Jimmy stares up at the dark ceiling. His earlier tiredness has up and left him, his mind racing, plagued by thoughts of what might’ve been. It’s all he can do to reassure himself that it’s over, that Tango’s safe and still here with him.

That for once, he was lucky.

(For how long, though?)

He isn’t trying to stay awake. And he isn’t pretending to be asleep, either, just laying quietly with his thoughts. But at some point Tango must think he’s nodded off, because only then does he start to cry.

It’s a quiet sound. Just the sharp inhale and exhale of breath. Jimmy might not have even known he was crying if it wasn’t for the way his shoulders shake, and the sudden dampness seeping into Jimmy’s shirt. 

It takes all of Jimmy’s willpower not to console Tango, to hold him tighter and offer hushed reassurances. There’s a reason Tango waited until he thought Jimmy was asleep- he’s very much the kind of person who prefers to show emotion on his own terms. If he knew Jimmy was awake to witness this, he’d completely shut down again. And he needs this.

So Jimmy pushes down his own emotions and does nothing as his soulmate cries, trying not to move or start crying himself as the guilt for being so useless eats him alive.

(Sweet dreams…)

~*~

Morning comes, eventually.

At least, as far as Jimmy can tell by his internal clock. The room he wakes up to is still fairly dark- just a slim beam of light coming in from the hallway through the cracked door. Impulse must’ve done that to better keep an ear out for them overnight. Thoughtful guy. Tango is sleeping deeply next to Jimmy, and the sight is quite comforting.

It seems they’ve kept with their usual sleeping habits, even without a sunrise to greet them.

Carefully, without jostling Tango, Jimmy pulls up his inventory to grab his communicator. He can’t recall hearing it go off, but he wants to make sure there isn’t anything that urgently requires his attention. He’s surprised, however, to find a potion of healing; Impulse must’ve slipped it to him while he was sleeping.

A smile tugs at Jimmy’s lips. He’s long since regenerated his health, but the potion ought to help with his lingering injury. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the cloyingly sweet note of melon. It doesn’t take long for a cooling sensation to settle over his broken nose. When he gently probes at it, he can feel it’s still a little crooked, but at least the pain is gone.

Putting the empty bottle away, Jimmy digs out his communicator, squinting against the blue light. No one’s used chat lately or sent him any whispers- it seems they’re taking the request for privacy quite seriously. But there is the backlog from yesterday waiting for him. It takes him a minute just to scroll back to where it all began.

Bravo joined the game.

<Grian> ey??

AtlasSyn joined the game.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

Phantonym joined the game.

<Grian> EYY????

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

<PearlescentMoon> Ummm?

<Renthedog> What the heck??

CRIMETIME joined the game.

t3rr0r_b1te joined the game.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

baddomen666 joined the game.

<InTheLittleWood> WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!?

staluggmite joined the game.

PwrPlayz joined the game.

<PearlescentMoon> Hello??

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

ApexGamer98 joined the game.

<Smajor1995> wait how is this happening

<PearlescentMoon> Raid?? D:

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels joined the game.

<Grian> i don;t know??

Jaffu joined the game.

<Grian> theres no one at spawn???

<Etho> woah!

<SolidarityGaming> SOS RSNCH

<Smajor1995> oh no

<Renthedog> What??

<Smallishbeans> rsnch lol

<GoodTimeWithScar> G come pick me up

Tyrannicide was slain by Tango.

staluggmite was slain by Tango.

Phantonym was slain by Tango.

<InTheLittleWood> Wait WHAT?!?!?!?!?!

<Smallishbeans> NO WAY

<BdoubleO100> OHHHHHHH

<Grian> EVERYONE TO RANCH

<ZombieCleo> what is happening???

staluggmite joined the game.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

<Smajor1995> omw cleo

Phantonym joined the game.

<impulseSV> Etho, Joel, our place?

<Renthedog> BigB where you at??

<bigbst4tz2> coming

SheHelsSeaHels was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

EbonyHelmentia was shot by Smajor1995.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by impulseSV.

CRIMETIME was slain by Wolf.

t3rr0r_b1t3 was slain by Renthedog.

Jaffu was doomed to fall by ZombieCleo.

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

Tyrannicide was slain by Renthedog.

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

CRIMETIME joined the game.

Phantonym was slain by Etho.

t3rr0r_b1t3 joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels joined the game.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by Wolf.

Jaffu joined the game.

Helfyre_004 was slain by Renthedog.

Vexed2theMax was slain by bigbst4tz2.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

Jaffu was slain by Renthedog.

SheHelsSeaHels was slain by Wolf.

bigbst4tz2 was shot by AtlasSyn.

Renthedog died.

Phantonym joined the game.

baddomen666 was slain by Wolf.

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

Jaffu joined the game.

PwrPlayz was slain by InTheLittleWood.

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

staluggmite was slain by Smallishbeans.

Helfyre_004 was shot by Smajor1995.

EbonyHelmentia was slain by Wolf.

PwrPlayz joined the game.

ApexGamer98 was slain by PearlescentMoon.

baddomen666 joined the game.

PwrPlayz was slain by Wolf.

Jaffu was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 was shot by Smajor1995.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

Vexed2theMax was slain by InTheLittleWood.

PearlescentMoon was shot by AtlasSyn.

Smajor1995 died.

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

ApexGamer98 joined the game.

SheHelsSeaHels was slain by Wolf.

ne’er_do_hels was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

Helfyre_004 was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 was slain by impulseSV.

CRIMETIME was slain by Smallishbeans.

Phantonym was slain by Wolf.

Vexed2theMax was slain by Wolf.

t3rr0r_b1t3 was slain by Wolf.

ApexGamer98 was slain by BdoubleO100.

Tyrannicide was slain by Wolf.

EbonyHelmentia was slain by Wolf.

AtlasSyn left the game.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by Wolf.

Bravo was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

GoodTimeWithScar died.

Jimmy doesn’t know how long he spends looking at chat, reading it over and over again as he tries to make sense of it. All those Hels players came here with the express purpose of kidnapping Tango. But why? Dr. Atlas had said something about ‘getting back to work’ and a farm design, but what does that even mean? 

Speaking of that doctor fella, he seems to have been the only one to get kills on the Double Lifers- the rest of them must’ve been preoccupied with Pearl’s wolves. Gosh, to think what her chat must look like…

But that’s something worth noting. Atlas didn’t waste his time with wolves, he went for Pearl and Bigb. He must’ve realized the wolves were Pearl’s and targeted her because of it. And the fact he went for Bigb instead of Ren, who was racking up the most kills... that means he was able to put together that they were soulbound, and he used that to get rid of the threat more easily.

Out of these Hels players, Atlas is clearly the one to watch out for.

Well, him and Bravo, of course. Though Bravo technically isn’t a Hels, if Jimmy’s understood it properly. But he’s certainly just as cruel and bloodthirsty as those other guys were, and he’s got it out for Tango the most. Jimmy can’t recall the last time he saw such hate in a player’s eyes, for any reason. And this is the guy claiming he should’ve been Jimmy’s soulmate? Unbelievable.

As if Jimmy would ever go for such a dense, hateful, entitled piece of-

“Honey,” Tango says suddenly, sitting up on his elbows, “you okay?”

Jimmy jolts in surprise; he must’ve been looking quite cross with his communicator. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he assures Tango softly, offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry if I woke you.”

It’s difficult to make out details in the scarce light from the hallway, but Tango looks much improved from yesterday. Even underneath the dried blood, the warmth has returned to his skin, replacing that sickly, pale pallor. His red eyes are sharp and alert- that’s a huge relief, as well.

“No, no, you’re good!” Tango says brightly. He leans over to press a kiss to Jimmy’s cheek. “Sleep alright?”

His tone throws Jimmy for a moment. Someone’s feeling better. Blinking, Jimmy puts his comm away. “I did, yeah,” he answers uncertainly. “You?”

“Yep!” Tango smiles at him; it seems a bit forced. “I uh- I’m all rest-ificated and ready to start the day. So, what I- well, I- I guess our first order of business, we should go take a look at the ranch, right, see what the damage is? Then we can do some resource gathering and start rebuilding, so we aren’t crashing at Impulse and Bdubs’s place forever.”

Jimmy pauses for a moment to process the words. “Umm… are you sure?” he asks tentatively. “I mean, we can go look at it if you want, but uh, are you- we should really focus on getting that collar off you first, don’t you think?”

Tango shrugs. He isn’t quite meeting Jimmy’s eyes. “Doesn’t bother me. Besides, we don’t have the key.”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “So what, we just... let it alone? Move on?”

Tango huffs a laugh- it sounds a bit faint. “Yeah, yeah exactly.” 

(What an abrupt change of character!)

(Lying again, it seems…)

(How suspicious.)

Okay, this is definitely strange behavior. Considering everything that happened yesterday, Jimmy would���ve expected Tango to still be physically and emotionally wrecked. But instead, he seems rather keen to just move on, like everything’s normal- 

Ah. Of course. Jimmy doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

“Tango...” he starts, “I don’t think-”

“Good morning!” Impulse hums as he pokes his head through the cracked door. “How we doin’, guys?”

Curse his timing. Tango, of course, immediately takes advantage of the distraction.

“Oh, hey Impy!” he says cheerfully. “Hey uh, sorry about earlier. You know, I uh, I was a little confused, and uh… you know...” He pulls a face; overdramatized. He’s trying to make light of it.

Impulse seems to share the same realization as Jimmy. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says easily, though he keeps his tone in a lower register- more serious. Not feeding into the fake energy. “No hard feelings. Here, I brought some food.”

Tango takes the offered food without even a second of hesitation; a stack of golden carrots. “Of course. Thank you, thank you.” He quickly starts crunching on one, conveniently busying himself so he doesn’t have to say anything else.

Oh well, at least he’s eating. Jimmy gives Impulse a tired smile. “Hey, Impulse. Thanks again for lettin’ us crash here.”

Impulse returns his smile. “Yeah, of course, no problem. So um, I’ve just got a bit of an update for you guys.” He sits down at the end of the bed, expression sobering. “The ranch situation is under control, they managed to get the fire out before it spread to anything else nearby. So your pastures, barns, and fields are safe. All your animals, too.”

It’s easy enough to pick up on what he’s left out. “But the ranch itself is gone, isn’t it?” Jimmy says quietly.

Impulse nods. “I’m sorry. Most of what’s left is just the stone. I think the basement is pretty intact, too, but everything else…”

“Yep.” Tango, finished with his carrot, shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, I figured. That’s what we get for building with wood, even though I’m super flammable and stuff.”

Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. “It’ll be okay-”

“So,” Tango interrupts, avoiding Jimmy’s gaze as he gives Impulse an intent look, “uh- anything else?”

(Ouch! Testy…)

Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Grian wants to know if you guys are up for a chat. Nothing bad,” he adds quickly, “he’s just trying to figure out a solution and we’re just a little in the dark about everything. You can stick to the basics; if there’s something you aren’t comfortable telling us, that’s fine-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tango assures him. Despite his grin, there’s a hard edge to his voice. “Let’s do it. Call everyone up, we’ll have a nice chat at spawn or something. Let’s- let’s get goin’.”

Impulse pauses. “Well, if you want, we can have just Grian come over...”

Tango huffs. “No, why- let’s just get everyone on the same page, okay? Get it all over with at once.” He spreads his hands. “No point in delaying, or- or having to explain the same thing over and over again, right? I mean, everyone’s stuck here ‘til Grian lifts the lockdown, I- I’m sure they’ll wanna know why.”

Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse. “I… I suppose,” he says hesitantly. “But are you sure you’re-”

“Yeah,” Tango says, “yeah, it’s fine.” 

Impulse purses his lips, clearly fighting not to let his frustration show. 

The sentiment is one that Jimmy shares. It’s obvious Tango is trying to downplay everything- and if that’s his way of coping, fine. But it really throws a wrench into the works when moving forward requires actually addressing what happened, and having an in-depth conversation about it. And this doesn’t bode well for long-term; they can’t just pretend everything’s normal, no matter how much Tango might wish it. 

“Okay, I’ll let him know.” Impulse rises to his feet. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hallway if you guys wanted to wash up.”

Tango actually makes a face at that, dropping the facade for a moment. He really doesn’t like water. “Wash up..?”

Impulse winces. “You’re um. Still covered in dried blood.”

(I was wondering when he’d realize that…)

Tango blinks. “Oh. Oh, right, of course.” Absently, he reaches a hand up to scratch at his chin. “I should probably wash that off, yeah. I mean, everyone knows I’m a vicious monster but I don’t have to look it, right?” he laughs.

Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Hey, Tango…”

“No,” Impulse protests, “that’s not-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tango says shortly. “Thanks, Impulse.”

“Alright.” Impulse lets the matter drop, turning to leave. “Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

As soon as Impulse is gone, Jimmy turns to Tango. “Hey, so-”

But Tango has already hopped out of bed and crossed to the door, calling, “Hang on, be right back!” over his shoulder.

Down the hall, Jimmy hears the bathroom door open and close. He sighs.

This is gonna be a fun conversation.

~*~

CONTINUED IN PART IX, ACT II

[glendasguidance]

🫖 pick a picture ☕️🧣🍪

Full Moon in Cancer

₊˚ʚᗢ₊˚✧ﾟhow to pick // disclaimers ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

Here are some messages for you this full moon <3

spread: Biddy Tarot Full Moon spread // decks: Rider Waite tarot, Find Your Purpose by Jess Sanders

Pile 1 / Pile 2 / Pile 3

Inhale, exhale 3x, pick

★ personal readings ★ support me ★ other readings ★

★ check out this reading! → USA Post-Election (2024): How can you support yourself, your community, and Earth in the present moment and in the years to come? (for US citizens and non-US citizens - for every Earthling <3) ★

Pile 1

What have you created and manifested since the new moon?

Ace of Swords - You've been realizing how much you don't allow yourself to think certain thoughts and speak your mind to the people around you. You've started speaking to yourself in an encouraging way, and that has been allowing you to gain clarity on your worth and value as a person, grow instead of hide yourself away, live in the present moment, communicate much better, create the life you want. This is new to you, so you kinda have Bambi legs right now, but that's okay. Don't be discouraged by your mistakes or anxieties, the more you consider your own opinions and use your voice, the more confident you will feel. Also, be smart about speaking truth to power. People who have power over others often do not operate with fairness and justice in mind, and will punish people that question it or their choices. Which isn't fair. And I'm not going to enable that behavior by telling you "that's just how the world works" - what I'm telling you is to think before you act on an impulse. If you realize it's not safe to act on your first desire, what is a way you can still achieve the same goal while protecting yourself? If you feel it's right to be confrontational, be prepared to handle reaction and backlash. Like the imagery on the card, think of these moments like sword fights - these are moments to be a samurai, not a novice. Let your friends help you.

Where are you now?

Judgement reversed - I believe there's been malicious gossip going around about you, and you've been sensing it. You probably realized when the people you get along with the best have been distancing themselves from you, and not acting as friendly with you as they normally do. I'm sensing more strongly with this pile that you may be receiving a lot of blame from a group you're in (family, a friend group, work, volunteer group, etc). And that it's a reaction to you attempting to hold someone accountable for hurting you or others, or enforce the agreed upon guidelines. Whatever it is, it's unfair. You feel astonished by this wake up call. But, the shock of the ice cold truth of what these people's true colors are is giving you an opportunity to have something you've needed for a long time. A choice to make for yourself. I sense you've usually gone with what other people decide, feeling too anxious to make decisions or believing your role in life is to follow what the leaders (or men in general) tell you to do. Baby girl you are NOT a plastic bag drifting through the wind. What is in your own best interest? Following that isn't selfish, it's self preservation.

What is coming into your conscious awareness?

9 of Swords reversed - You've realized you've gotta let go of a lot of stress and stressful people. You can't live like this anymore. It's been hurting you. You were putting a looot on your plate that wasn't for you to take care of - it was other peoples' responsibility. You probably had kind intentions and just wanted to help, and it was very kind you did that. People took advantage of your innocence. You'll have a "fuck it, I'm done attitude. This is good because there's nothing for you to feel guilt or burdened by. Moving forward as you heal, reevaluate your needs, wants, and values in relationships. Don't list things that make relationships functional as the top things you're looking for. Trust, honesty, kindness, patience, etc aren't "high standards" (a bullshit phrase imo), they're foundational to every healthy relationship. First, learn or review how to recognize basic green flags in people, and then learn what traits you like and appreciate (humor, spontaneity vs planners, night owls vs morning birds, club goers or book worms, outdoorsy vs indoorsy, etc). Accept help and support from others at this time, you might be surprised at who helps you / is a safe person.

Quote Ask yourself what is really important and then have the courage to build your life around your answer. - Lee L. Jampolsky Affirmation I am guided by what I value most. Journal What are my top five values?

🦢 ♥︎ much love - Glenda ♥︎ 🦢

★☮︎★ support people affected by Jan 2025 LA wildfires ★☮︎★ support incarcerated firefighters ★☮︎★

Pile 2

What have you created and manifested since the new moon?

6 of Pentacles - Did you know that life can be good again? Probably not for a while. You've recently spent time around children or saw children playing and helping each other. This hit you with some sweet nostalgia, making you remember playing, being silly, and having fun - and how you could make any mundane moment playful, silly, and fun. You've realized you can still do that right now. Fun is always here, we just have to make it. And isn't it fun to make it? And yes, the world can be kind.

Where are you now?

3 of Cups - You're fuckin' live laugh loving your life - go you!! You're partying and being silly with your friends, going on adventures, and being a goofy goober. You're connecting with new friends, and making new friends along the way. If you don't currently have friends, this is your time to make them. You won't connect with everyone you meet, and that okay. The kind, safe, loving, fun friends you haven't met yet are waiting for you to come say hi.

What is coming into your conscious awareness?

Queen of Wands - This is how you become a badass, a boss ass bitch, slay queen pussy boss boots house down serving cunt. Just like with self love, how we learn we are lovable by being loved by others and accepting their affections, the same goes for confidence. I guess they’re one in the same really. When you have fun, and then others positively respond and have fun with you, it reinforces with you that you are good as you are and how wonderful your light is. It gives you protection from people who try to dim it - they can’t make you believe you should. So go make friends, and call up the ones you have. Making your own fun is empowering you to make your own life, and you’re growing into yourself. How exciting it is to find out what you’ll do, what you’ll make, and learn more about yourself. How magical it is to constantly discover goodness and kindness and love everywhere again. You are ever expansive and love is infinite. 🌌

Quote Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong. - Ella Fitzgerald Affirmation I will experience challenges, but I will never let them stop me from doing what I love. Journal How have I been able to overcome challenges in the past?

🦢 ♥︎ much love - Glenda ♥︎ 🦢 ★☮︎★ support people affected by Jan 2025 LA wildfires ★☮︎★ support incarcerated firefighters ★☮︎★

Pile 3

What have you created and manifested since the new moon?

Chariot reversed and 3 of Swords - You finally got the care you’ve needed, but it also comes with a significant life change, and that involves grief. I believe most of you got a new mobility aid. If not, then there’s something about a car, bike, or public transit. Because I got an image of a wheelchair very strongly in my head, I’m going to focus on mobility aids and disability moving forward in the reading. I’m sure all you’ve been wishing for has been freedom of movement. You seemed to have had a specific wish though, like for your disability to be gone. Instead, you got a mobility aid. To you, this feels like limitation and restriction. I’m not saying “you’re handicapable!” or that other “inspirational” crap able-bodied people say. What I am saying is that this mobility aid is your freedom of movement - maybe for sometimes, maybe forever. It is a blessing to have one at all. Think of all the kind inventors making stuff so people can be independent and live! How wonderful is that? But I’m know it’s hard to shift to gratitude when you’re grieving. Let yourself cry and be angry and feel it all. It’s hard realizing how vulnerable you are and how much care you need, especially if you’ve been neglected most of your life or created an identity around being hyper-individualistic. Do you have a fear that people won’t help you? That’s very real, many disabled people are treated like garbage, the world can be pretty inaccessible, and right now barely anyone gets a Ms. Rona booster (the least one can do if they refuse to wear a mask). So feel and write and paint and express all your feelings about it. It’s all real and valid. Other people could be dealing with receiving a mobility aid they were excited for, but it’s not working, and it’s difficult to get repairs or replacements. Others felt excited to finally get one, but are grieving an unexpected feeling of loss of freedom because of the change. Maybe your home isn’t accessible for you now. My advice is still the same.

Where are you now?

10 of Pentacles - You’ve started to get connected with disability support groups and disability justice groups. You’ve been learning how to use your mobility aid, how to do repairs, how to make your home accessible or find a place that is accessible, how to raise money and get financial support, how to get around town, and overall do what you need to do. You’re making connections with new wonderful people who make your life better than it was before. You’re learning what community is and what it means to have one. I feel like someone has shown you how to decorate your mobility aid so it’s more fun and ✨you✨. Get crafty! 🧶🎨🪡 You’re humbled by all the love you’re receiving just because you exist, that you don’t have to “earn” it. That’s how love has always worked, you just didn’t know yet.

What is coming into your conscious awareness?

5 of Swords reversed - You’re no longer engaging in battles that make 0 progress for your relationships, and only make you feel hurt and exhausted from the stress. You’re letting go of eugenist believes you’ve been taught to have, and drawing strict boundaries with eugenists / people with eugenist & ableist beliefs. You’re analyzing what you have have time for, what you have spoons for, and frankly you feel good cutting all that harmful crap out. You’re learning how precious your peace is, and that it’s worthy of protection, respect, and regard.

Quote Your purpose or passion or "thing" doesn't have to become your work. It doesn't have to be something you make money from. Sometimes the things we love doing need space to be what they are without having to make them into something formalized. - Dr. Rebecca Ray Affirmation I don't have to make money for it to matter. Journal What did I love doing as a child that I no longer make time for?

🦢 ♥︎ much love - Glenda ♥︎ 🦢 ★☮︎★ support people affected by Jan 2025 LA wildfires ★☮︎★ support incarcerated firefighters ★☮︎★

header image: click here // footer image: Jan Brett's book The Mitten // pngs: click here // dividers: click here // I do not consent to my writing, blog’s likeness, or anything associated with my work, to be used to teach any machine learning software and artificial intelligence for any purpose.

[cravingpepsimax]

Headcannons for teen stancest? I see it as more fluff then smut but I’m curious on what others think

teen stancest is something i find interesting, but not in the way most people do.

i think teen stancest is a lot of unknowing pining. i think stancest is like that in general, but especially as teens. they’re already terrible at dealing with emotions as senior citizens — imagine having to deal with gay incestuous feelings during the 60s-70s without having a fully developed frontal lobe. yikes!

i don’t think either of them would realize how they feel for the other at this age, but if either of them did, it’d be stan who realizes, not ford. ford has poor emotional self-awareness as a grown man — have you ever met a teenager with good emotional self-awareness? plus, teen ford has zero play. teen ford would absolutely take any weird feelings about stan entirely at face-value because the thought of him feeling that way about a man, much less his BROTHER, is unthinkable. yeah, sure, he might get butterflies in his stomach around stan, but that’s just because he wants to impress his cool brother. sure, ford might feel weirdly upset whenever stan talks about his newest girlfriend (god forbid ford sees them), but that’s just because he wants to make sure she treats his brother right! any actually romantic thoughts ford has are immediately surpressed and justified as his overactive brain throwing weird thoughts at him.

stan, on the other hand? i don’t think he’d realize either, but if either of them do at this point, it’d be stan. stan is very familiar with what attraction feels like. on the one-off chance he doesn’t immediately shut down any gay incest thoughts with a “nope not supposed to do that ❌❌❌❌”, i could actually see him realizing, and then promptly freaking the fuck out because oh my god how do you even address this. being attracted to a man is bad enough, but your BROTHER? i could see stan responding by going the complete opposite direction and trying his damndest to get ford a girlfriend so that stan couldn’t even imagine he has a chance. stan would probably get even more into the dating scene to distract himself, too. he doesn’t want to spend less time with ford by any means, but he has to get rid of these thoughts. not even for society at large, for ford’s sake — he’d believe ford wouldn’t reciprocate, and even if he did, ford gets bullied enough for being a six-fingered nerd, dating his own brother would make that even worse if anyone ever found out! stan is protective over his family, especially ford, and he wouldn’t want to risk anything.

if stan did confess, ford probably would freak out. be taken aback at best. again, this is ford we’re talking about. as a teenager. i don’t think he’d start hating stan or whatever, but i do think he’d reject stan and just pretend nothing ever happened (while also wondering if he should’ve said yes because he does love stan, but also would panic thinking he can’t, there’s no way he ever could. ford thinks he’s logical, but when he feels strong feelings, he justifies acting on them as if they were logical. ford’s really scared of ruining his relationship with stan, scared of being treated as even more of a pariah, but he justifies acting on these fears by lying to himself — he’s not paralyzed by fear, it’s just the Rational Thing To Do).

and then the science fair incident happens and oh god does the pining get worse especially if stan confesses. goddamn

so. yeah. unfortunately the exact opposite of fluff then smut lmao, this is very much an angsty pining mess for me. this is one of those instances where their complete lack of emotional self-awareness is a positive because i cannot for the life of me imagining either of them dealing with it well at this age

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 29

ISAT/Two Hats spoilers below the break! CW: Mentions of Murder/Suicide, Mental Spiraling

Friendly reminder of the character perspective/voice brackets, as they may be needed for this chapter c:

Isabeau: |"Text"| Odile: ="Text"= Mirabelle: -"Text"- Bonnie: <"Text"> Nille: {"Text"}

(You can't tell when sleep gives way to the lightless void of your dream, but your awareness suddenly snaps to attention as you hear footsteps echoing behind you. You don't turn to look. Your heart begins to race and you shut your eye tight.)

"No... not now... please..." (You beg in a soft whisper. The footsteps stop close behind you. You can feel it just standing there... staring.)

"Not tonight... please just not tonight." (You can't handle this right now, you can't go through more of this blinding nightmare.)

{"But they killed you, Frin..."}

"... Adding Nille to the mix now, huh?..." (You think aloud, hearing her worried voice echoing around you. You keep your eye shut. It won't trick you this time.)

="No wonder they're so on edge."= (You roll your eye behind your eyelid. It's gonna have to try a lot harder than that...)

["If they don't accept me, you'd be okay looping back again, right? You wouldn't want to decide between me or them."] (You freeze for a moment, hearing Vale's desperate voice... You would, wouldn't you?... Without hesitation, if there was no other way... You would...)

<"BUT YOU CRABBING PROMISED!!!"> (You clench your fist, then slowly release it... it won't come to that, you won't let it.)

="Why would we let them near you again after what they did? We can't risk them hurting you again. Or worse."=

"... It's my choice to make." (You state in a stern voice, trying to keep your composure.)

-"Not when it affects us too! If they keep making you loop, how are we supposed to live our lives? How are we supposed to change?"-

"They're not going to! Now shut up and leave me alone!"

|"Sif... Is that fair to us? We agreed to help you, to stay with you... but you're making us deal with their problems too. That's a lot to dump on sometime."|

"... And what if they were me, huh? What then?"

="Oh, Siffrin..."= (You feel its hand placed on your shoulder, causing you to flinch.)

="One of you is the most anyone could take."= (You quickly pull away from it's grasp.)

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" (You shout, having turned to look at it before you realized what you were doing. You see your shadow in front of you once more. The sadness welling up within you. You can't look away as it opens it's mouth to let the other voices through.)

<"They hurt you, Frin! Don't you hate them?! I HATE THEM!!!">

"You don't understand! You don't know what they went through!!"

<"I DON'T CARE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE THEM AGAIN!! They hurt you, stupidfrin!! Shouldn't you hate them too?!">

"WELL WHY DON'T I HAVE A SAY IN THIS?! THEY HURT ME, AND I'M FINE! WHY DOES EVERYONE ELSE HAVE TO CARE FOR ME?!"

-"Y-You say that like it doesn't hurt us too! They killed you! That hurts us to think about, we don't want it to happen to you again!"-

="It's for your own good, Siffrin."=

"IT WON'T! THEY WON'T DO IT AGAIN! AND YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S BEST FOR ME!!"

{"What if they lashed out at someone else? Someone who wouldn't be fine?..."}

"SHUT UP! THEY WON'T! THEY WOULDN'T!!! THEY ONLY DID IT CAUSE THEY KNEW I'D LOOP! IT'S NOT THE SAME!!"

="Here's a philosophical conundrum for you, Siffrin. If you loop, and everything resets with you, then we can *all* be looped back. We're all valid targets by that logic."=

"... You don't know them like I do..."

|"Sif, if they're anything like you, we'll just get manipulated into liking them..."| (... Something in you snaps. You suddenly tackle into it, pinning your negative shaded self to the ground and wrapping your hands around its throat, trying to strangle the nonexistent life out of it. It's mouth remains open as voices continue to flow out, unimpeded.)

|"You'll both just keep looping until we have the perfect opinion of them and everything goes smoothly..."|

-"If we said no to keeping them around, you'd loop back. How does that give us any choice in the matter?"-

"I DON'T CARE!!!" (You scream, tightening your grip on its throat.)

"I DON'T CARE! I DON'T CARE! I-... I don't... I can't... I-I..." (Your grip slowly loosens, tears flowing down your face and onto its own.)

"I... I can't do this all again... I can't just live my whole life again... not without them..." (You feel its hand lightly placed on your own, still loosely around its throat.)

="Then you'll have to consider if you can live it all over again without us."= (You choke out a sob, pulling your hands away and hugging yourself tightly.)

"It's not fair... it's not fair! Why do I keep having to lose everyone and everything?! When will it stop?!"

["The universe leads, Stardust... We can only follow."]

"I'm so sick of following..." (You whimper out through your heavy sobbing.)

["You'll have to choose some day, Stardust. You'll have to be okay with that."]

(You stop responding, just crying as you hold yourself in that endless void.)

|"Sif... Hey Sif?... Sif!!"|

(You jolt awake as you feel a pair of large hands shake you lightly. You look around frantically only to find Isa holding you. You feel your face is soaked, you must have been crying in your sleep for real. He looks down at you, his face looked worried and... hesitant?)

"Isa? Wh... What's going on?"

"You were crying a lot in your sleep Sif... Are you okay?" (You glance drifts away from them and towards the ground... the look on your face likely answers the question better than words could.)

"Sif... We gotta talk. It's about Vale."

(No... please, no...)

So... surprise! @Tacticaly-Shrubbery helped with this one too, kept this one a secret from the server to really catch everyone off guard~ >:3c. As always thanks so much Shrub, this one hurt! A lot!

[californiannostalgia]

Processing identity as a child abuse survivor

Recently I had a huge revelation. Come with me on this childhood trauma realization journey (if you want).

This post was written for those wavering on the 'was it abuse' question.

Fair warning, each of these revelations were a whammy. I recommend you keep in mind that these revelations will transform the way you see yourself and the world. This took me out of commission for hours at a time.

Revelation 1: Was I Abused?

Read this Tumblr post. Go down the list. Check the 'yes'es and 'maybe's.

'Was I abused' is a yes or no question. I need you to really think about this if your answer is 'kind of'. If you could be truly honest with yourself, what would your answer be?

For years I've gone to the logic of 'it wasn't that bad,' and 'at least the worst didn't happen,' or 'others have had it worse'. This is such a low bar. You deserve better than the bar your parents set for you. The socioeconomic circumstances and the normalization of violence in your living area? Yes, influential. But not a justification.

At the end of the day, the veracity of these statements don't even matter. It's a yes or no question: 'Am I a survivor of child abuse?'

It may take a really long time to truly process, and even then it might feel uncomfortable saying it like it's truth. I need you to know your truth is truth. It's a yes or no question.

Take a break. I recommend you don't progress further until you've processed Revelation 1.

(Shameless plug-in of my fandom blorbo interests: Rick Riordan's Trials of Apollo series really helped me with this first revelation. It made me feel seen and less alone. It may not be perfect, but I personally liked it!)

Revelation 2: What does this mean? (health-wise)

Listen to this Ted Talk by an expert (medical professional).

This is the part where I got angry and really fucking sad. Let yourself be sad. Let yourself be furious. Our life is not our fault and we're still stuck with this lot.

Genuinely this was such a shock for me to realize. The thing that has the biggest impact on my life is not my anxiety, depression, ptsd, insomnia, blood pressure, immune health, etc. The root cause of my physical and mental illnesses is Adverse Childhood Experiences.

ACE is more common than you'd think. Acknowledging that what happened to you was bad will be beneficial to humanity's survival in the long run. Like any illness, ACE can be fought at a societal level.

Take a break. I recommend you don't progress to the next revelation until you've processed Revelation 2.

Take your time to be angry and sad. Take forever. You never have to forgive your abuser, even if they change their behavior. The chance at a civil acquaintanceship you might be willing to extend to your parents doesn't require your forgiveness.

.

Revelation 3: Why is your therapist recommending you retell your life story?

This one is mostly for when you have steady access to a therapist. Here are some things I wish I'd known before seeking out therapy in the US.

(Is it shitty that you can't get therapy on your own terms when you're underage? Yes, it fucking is. To those of us who survived to adulthood: holy shit y'all. At 19 I felt like absolute fucking bullshit, like my brain was a burning ball of tangled barbed wire. It does feel absolutely shitty. But reaching 19 is an achievement.)

The thing is, I do or say a lot of things that I later come to think of as embarrassing, inappropriate, or in certain circumstances, potentially abusive. Genuine trigger reactions happen. I will always have to live with a piece of my parents in my head. But I don't want to do to another person what they did to me. Self-awareness is what separates me from my abusers.

What to do about this? Number 1: chill out. You're not gonna be your abuser. Humans are unique and imperfect. They have not replicated themselves in you. It's okay to make mistakes when you're talking or reacting. Your brain is fucked up. You can do something differently next time.

Number 2: read this article about Overthinking, Over-apologizing, Oversharing, and Overwhelmed as trauma responses.

Then read this article on how to deal with Unresolved Trauma.

Yeah. It be like that. Isn't it fucked up? Recognizing the four Os in my behavior helped me realize I'm not an antisocial asshole by default.

Unresolved trauma is the root cause for my behaviors that I think of as unhealthy. This revelation happened very recently for me. Before this point in time, I couldn't understand why I would want to recount traumatic events in therapy.

At this point in time, I have regular access to a therapist I'm okay with. Going over memories and deconstructing the blame system seems like a reasonable thing to try.

What happened to you as a child is not your fault. You're not the one who landed yourself in your life. You've been given an unfairly difficult situation to be responsible for. You did not create your coping mechanisms for shits and giggles.

So yeah. Number 3: figure out your life with the help of a therapist. Let's see where we are ten years later or something.

Nothing is easy and everything is confusing. Take a break, hydrate, eat, sleep, do something nice for yourself. Do something you like doing. Thanks for reading.

[kyouka-supremacy]

hello!

I saw your recent post and you hinted that Atsushi is actually kinda twisted and that yoh don't agree with his morals?

If its alr with you, do you mind elaborating? ❤️

Alright, to be fair, I *am* self aware enough to realize a lot of what I say about Atsushi is probably fairly detached from canon. When push comes to shove, he's just a guy trying to get through. A polite dude. I like to stretch on how a lot of his well-mannered behaviour and his desperate attempt to prove himself good are moved by deeply selfish reasons of validating his own right to live, but that said, that doesn't make him inherently evil, either.

Atsushi's double morality is something that comes up a lot, so please check out these posts!! (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8). But overall... Is a good action that is done for deeply selfish reasons, still good? I'm not sure. But when I watched the anime for the first time, and in episode 8 it turned out that Atsushi was not helping the train passengers out of spontaneous inclination to help people in need, but rather just due to a self-interested aim to validate his own right to live... Idk, it didn't positively impress me? I was even less positively impacted by the later line “people can't live unless someone tells them ‘it's okay to go on’! ” The thing is, both scenes feel like more of the author's underlying worldviews that end up being conveyed through the series' protagonist, and that's a consideration to be made by its own– it's not an issue I have with Atsushi specifically, as much as me fundamentally disagreeing with most of bsd's perspectives on the world, as I've already said before.

But that doesn't change the fact that Atsushi is fundamentally selfish¹, does it? The difference is - I think - that for the author, more or less all people are, while to me no one is born selfish. But that still makes Atsushi not really morally virtuous, and I think that's narratively interesting to explore by its own!!! What if there was a character who only did good because (he thinks) that's the only way he has the right to live? What if there was someone who believed the right to live had to be owned in the first place? After having overcome the admittedly jarring sentiment I felt when first engaged with the character, I must admit those are some compelling concepts to explore, even despite disagreeing with the underlying morals.

At the end of the day, it's just a complex nature of the character? I like to emphasize on Atsushi's uncommendable selfishness especially as opposite to Akutagawa's hidden selflessness; but all said, a man who tries to do good despite it not being his first nature is a better man than any of us, isn't he?

¹ And Atsushi is profoundly selfish. I think that Beast in particular proves that he's ready to commit evil just as much as in canon he is to do good, if it's to pursue the goal of his own survival. The first thing we see him do, at the very start of the series, is, symbolically, contemplating robbing other people for his own survival (though in real life I would never judge someone's morality in life and death situations... But maybe since this is fiction, that can still hold narrative value). He will stop acting good as long as it's no longer required of him (each of his interactions with Akutagawa). Maybe it's a little pessimist way to interpret the manga, but perhaps still a consistent one?

[daynascullys]

the tortured poets department

i have thoughts!! surprising, right?? this is for anyone who cares to read them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Before you read, note that this is going to be critical of things, so let me just start by saying I have loved and listened to Taylor since I was 8, so none of it is said lightly or without careful thought (in fact, this took me absurdly long to write). Most of the issues I have are very near to my heart, actually, so I've spent a lot of time thinking about it. If you don't want to read criticism, then just don't read more. DISCLAIMER that I did my best, but not even this fully captures the nuance I feel able my own opinions lol I recognize the other sides and points, I really do. I hold many conflicting opinions.

The short version is I will always love her music and her voice and she is capable of writing absolutely gorgeous lyrics (dare I say poetry?). I don't tend to think too much about the sound of it because if I like the sound, it's all I really care about—maybe it sounds the same as other stuff, but if I like that other stuff, I don't really care about whether she branches out or not. I think it's great and interesting when she (or anyone) does, but I also don't like change so it doesn't matter to me the way I know it matters to some people. That's just me!

What gets more complicated for me is the narrative, themes, and general trends that have been more prominent the last year or so, and that's what the rest of my thoughts are. It's me enjoying the music while also being acutely aware of all the grief tangled up in it because of how much less connected I feel in many ways.

Side note: this got soooo much longer than even I expected and it still just scratches the surface! so if you decide to read, 1. thank you, and 2. I'd love to keep talking to you. 🤍

———————————————————— 💭

I am an overthinker (shocking!) and will for sure be annoyed that I can't think of each and every thing I think about this album, but this is what comes to mind right now. Some things that have stood out to me more and more with each release:

a tendency to write self-aware lyrics that, in trying to be self-aware, betray somewhat of a lack of self-awareness

a frustration with never growing up that she expresses while also not realizing the way she is complicit in that and her own refusal to grow up

considering herself the victim, particularly after "overcoming" the accusations that she always plays the victim

venturing more boldly into the territory of serious mental illness/suicidal ideation/mental health treatment despite demonstrating a fair amount of ignorance regarding those things in the past

fame going to her head (in the sense of her becoming further and further out of touch) and the entitlement in a lot of the more immature attitudes that come across in these songs

self-awareness: for me, the first example that comes to mind is Anti-Hero: "it's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me." It's a claim at self-awareness because she's poking fun at the fact that she knows people always say "maybe she's the problem." The reason why it feels to me like it exposes a lack of self-awareness is because she explores it mostly as a criticism to overcome and not a valid point of self-reflection. @jakeperalta's tags on her post explain it better than I do. Yes, there's an issue when you reduce every feeling to "well maybe she's the problem," but part of growth is admitting that maybe you are part of the problem and coming to terms with the fact that there is often some inevitable truth to that statement—and being willing to work on it. This example is from Midnights, but I think it ties into the next point.

immaturity/never growing up: I actually think these first two sections are just two parts of one section, but it's easier to read this way anyway. There are lots of references to not growing up on this album, the first that come to mind being "So High School" and "teenage petulance." Maybe it's just me, but as a 34-year-old woman, I wouldn't want to be feeling "so high school." I mean, as a 25-year-old, when I talk about feeling like my high school self, it's usually because I'm recognizing how limited my judgment and self-awareness was in high school (despite all the therapy and my efforts to be self-aware in high school). And I am aware of my own bias here—I absolutely hate the football game days because I didn't even like watching people act like that in high school, but at least they were high schoolers—but I do think part of what we've seen is Travis allowing her to be more immature and take less responsibility because that's also where he is at. Obviously I don’t speak to it with any authority since I don't know what happened in the relationship, but based on her behaviors and what I know about Joe (which is VERY little), I kind of get the feeling that part of what she didn't like about being with Joe is that he pushed her to grow. "Your integrity makes me seem small," etc. etc., but not in an “I want to grow” way, but not liking that feeling because she shouldn't have to feel small just because she wants to be able to only do what makes her happy. Just looking at the difference in her behavior and the fact that it seems like she's stopped trying to learn (Miss Americana-ish), it seems like she very much resents the responsibility that comes with being such a famous person and mainly considers herself a victim of her fame.

victimhood: to an extent, yes, she is a victim of her fame. No one should have that much fame and power, and of course she didn't sign up for it in this way. But wanting to have the kind of influence and reach that most artists desire is intertwined with fame. There isn't a way to separate it (in an ideal world, maybe, but that isn't what we're dealing with) and it's something that, to some degree, artists do sign up for. And I think she resents that she's expected to take any sort of responsibility for anything that she doesn't want to do, in a very, "but that's not fair!," teenage petulance kind of way. She even says in Sweet Nothing that "I'm just too soft for all of it." We're all too soft for all of it, but that doesn't mean we get to ignore it. It bothers me that she doesn't seem to feel any sort of responsibility to use this giant platform to do better. Everyone is aware of her influence, including her. I think that's part of the grief. No, it is not her job to use her platform for good, but I thought that it was something she valued and something she wanted. The other line that really stuck out to me was from Cassandra: "They say what doesn't kill you makes you aware, what happens if it becomes who you are?" You may be a victim of what doesn't kill you, but if it becomes who you are, that's not their fault. It reminds me a bit of the exhaustion of living with mental illness. For me in particular, it affects my relationships in a very fundamental way, and there are days that I sob because I am exhausted of things that are so normal being so, so difficult for me... but even though I didn't ask for it and it's not fair that this happened to me, it's still my responsibility to understand how my issues affect how I show up in relationships. It's still my problem, even though it isn't my fault that it's my problem. And if you're lucky, you find really beautiful people who are willing to help you and see that it's not their responsibility, but they want to make it easier for you—I recognize how lucky I am to have some people like that, but it never makes it anyone else's problem. If they decide one day it's not their problem, the truth is that it isn't (and then there's a more complex conversation about what you want to do to preserve a relationship). This is also very connected to something about Kate Beckett/why I identify with that character, and I can touch on that if anyone wants to know, but I don't really have cohesive thoughts about that prepared (it makes more sense if you already know the character). This also goes to other things, like her being upset that people always focus on who songs are about while ignoring the part she played in feeding that culture (like with secret messages).

mental health: this goes to a bigger discussion of how we turn to celebrities who are HIGHLY unqualified to have opinions on things for guidance (the nuance of the above discussion about using your platform), but the more she ventures into the discussion of mental illness, the more upset I get by some remarks she has made in the past. And yes, people grow, she may not feel this way anymore, but nothing in her behavior gives me any reason to believe that she doesn't still have this attitude. This is one that I know I have to be careful of because of how personal it is for me (I've been placed on a 5150 "danger to self" hold and I am a therapist), but one interview that has always made me so upset is that one where she talks about how she's never been to therapy, then ends it by saying "I feel like we just had a therapy session." She has said multiple times how she has never wanted to go to therapy when she has her mom, who already knows everything about her. And that is highly irritating to me because 1. that's why she's your MOM, not your THERAPIST, and 2. there's already so much stigma and apprehension around therapy and many people feel this way, so to have someone like Taylor Swift validate all the people who say "I'd rather talk to someone who already knows me" or "so and so is my therapist" is unbelievably frustrating. There's a reason it's unethical to treat people you know—that isn't therapy. And I think I wouldn't be so bothered by it if she didn't speak about it with such authority, like she knows what she's talking about when what she's saying shows that she doesn't (edit: this is specifically in regard to therapy, not mental illness. I am highly aware that anyone can be mentally ill). The other thing about this album is that it does seem to be an album about loving people with mental illness, and I've already seen a lot of interpretations that simply feed the narrative that people with mental illness are unlovable and mental illness is the reason people mistreat you (particularly the discussion about her lovers being blue all the time). And the issue with that is it's already a common misconception among people with mental illness, that their mental illness is an excuse or reason why they don't treat people right. It's disrespectful to the people who recognize that they have a mental illness that affects how they interact with others and choose to try to overcome it. I'm all for honest discussions about mental illness, but it's so disheartening when it happens on such a large scale and some of the loudest voices are people who don't know enough to know how to (at least try to) do no harm.

fame: I'm not really going to go into it because this has already turned out way longer than I meant for it to, but also because I feel like it's already been touched on. For me, it's the conversation about her feeling she should be able to just do what she wants. I think we all feel that way, but because of her fame and the fact that she's just about untouchable (as shown in how she came back from being cancelled), she can just tune everyone out. But one example was how uneasy I felt about this album being announced at the grammys. For one thing, it's not a fan-voted award, so even if it should, it doesn't feel the same. And regardless of your take on award shows, I do think it showed a level of insensitivity to the other artists who haven't won a bunch of grammys to decide that she would announce a new album at the grammys. Because even if she had a backup plan and said she didn't plan on it, the truth is that, to decide to have a backup plan, you did have to count on it happening, at least to an extent. You had to feel it was likely enough that you wanted to have a back up plan just in case, but it probably would go the way you wanted. To me, it just felt so... disrespectful. Because for many other artists, it doesn't happen more than once. (not to mention the many other things happening that got completely overshadowed, like Annie Lennox calling for a ceasefire)

So if you read all that... I don't even know what the point is at this point. These are just thoughts that, to me, don't feel right to simply ignore. I know there's an argument that you can enjoy music without enjoying where it came from, and it's true to an extent, but I also think part of the music is where it comes from. So... I don't know. Do with that what you will. And if you are reading this, I love you (I can't believe you're reading this).

[system-of-a-feather]

hi! i've followed you for quite some time, and i wanted to say your experiences with functional multiplicity + fusion, and your perspective on the "self" especially from a non-western background, are all incredibly helpful and useful points of discussion for things around DID.

i'm not fully recovered, i'm probably at a state closer to functional multiplicity with the odd PTSD-style intrusions still unaccounted for. but your posts especially on full integration and spirituality are very helpful as i've come to understand how DID -> "normal subdivisions/parts of the self" is just a spectrum, and not clearly distinct.

i feel a lot of the time you see in OSDDID spaces the sort of grandeur or mythologisation (?) of the alters in particular (even in anti endo spaces imo!!), which i think makes people lose sight of what it means to have DID and can hinder people's recovery as they get bogged down on what a system should be. it's been helpful even in a not-fully-recovered state to think about my system more in the way you described in your big post about full integration and spirituality.

basically tl;dr you are bringing very grand ideas to the discussion about DID and what that means and you've made excellent points especially with the western bias of the psychiatric institution.

Glad to hear, genuinely ^^ But yeah, I honestly noticed actually that usually the people that are the most locked down on one side of plurality communities (hard anti-endos and people who have only been in endo spaces save for syscourse) tend to have this really grandeur or, honestly I like the word, mythologized idea of alters just in different ways. I find hard anti-endos have it as this SUPER unique experience that can only come from SUPER unique and horrible events and endos that have never really gotten out of the super-endo spaces tend to have it out to be this really kind of like... spectaclized manner.

Honestly, it might be just because I haven't actually interacted with people who have only been in super-endo spaces, but I've honestly had more issues with anti-endos making the idea of alters / parts to be something WAY more unique and special than it actually has to be. Like theres a case to say endos "romanticize" it, which fair I guess, but I genuinely find it a lot more uncomfortable (and in MY experience, I also find that sort of thinking to have been harmful to my recovery) to hear that alters / parts are something all that super unique and special, and again, thats coming from a polyfragmented diagnosed DID system.

But I really don't think having alters or parts is anything really super special and the only thing that makes it unique for CDDs is that the dissociation is a bitch for people with CDD and - more often than not - there is a sense of a lot of loss of agency with people who have CDD due to a combination of a history of trauma and the pervasive and (especially in early recovery) how uncontrollable dissociation can feel.

I think (as I am not one of them and havent talked to enough to have it more than a hypothesis) a lot of the people who find that they were "born plural" or have their plurality related to their culture / how they were raised - while they didn't "choose" to be plural - (and for the simplicity of this statement I'm talking about non-traumatized ones, I'm aware some were born plural AND had trauma but thats a nuance thats for another post) the lack of trauma and lack of clinical / pathological dissociation causing MAJOR intrusions into life make the plurality develop and be experienced in a way that is a lot less scary / theratening and a lot less of an inherent trigger for lack of agency, autonomy, and control

I honestly don't think I've met a CDD system that didn't spend the majority of their early realization and awareness of their parts (and often YEARS preceding even having it on their radar) terrified of loosing themselves, terrified of going feral or going insane or cracking or letting some inherent part of themselves loose.

So that intense and instrusive dissociation and that complex relationship with a loss of agency and autonomy IS a very signature thing about CDDs but like... the plurality? The interaction with yourselves as independent parts? The interaction of yourselves with different names? The act of changing modes in specific situations and having different favorite things and tastes and interests and perspectives based on your mood, environment, etc? Thats all stuff that is seen elsewhere in the world. There are a number of spiritual and cultural practices that have that extremely normalized. There are THERAPUTIC practices that do that as a HEALING thing (looking at you IFS).

Other than finding some of them annoying and sometimes harmful when they are consumed by it, I don't really *hate* or dislike anti-endos cause I get it. I SUPER get it, I used to be a staunch anti-endo and I feel a lot of the anti-endo perspective comes pretty naturally as a response from a life of trauma and the struggles that comes with recovering.

But HONESTLY, if I'm being real, I honestly just have a lot of bones to pick and a lot of hurt, anger, and frustration towards Western Culture and Colonialist Rhetoric and America as a whole deep within me that I'm just really not the best at holding my tongue on as a fused whole. Like I'm better at it than XIV was as an isolated part, but compared to MOST other parts, its something that deeply bugs me a lot and so a lot of the things I bring up here really honestly isn't even for the DID community or DID conversations or even syscourse, as much as it is me trying to find a productive and more healthy way to communicate the hurt I have regarding my history, my ancestry, my culture, and my life living in a predominantly white, western, christian, colonialist country.

The only reason it really comes up in terms of DID a lot is just cause well, thats one of the few communities I engage with online these days and its one of the few communities I do still (sometimes unfortunately /hj /lh) still identify as being part of.

Its actually one of the harder things to process productively as a fused whole a lot when it comes up into my mind. XIV held such INTENSE anger towards western, white, and American culture that we actually had to mentally prepare and make safety plans for 4th of july in the past because it would unironically be such an easy day to make him escalate into homicidal ideation (which never REALLY got to the point of a crisis but we had to be careful in case our fiance's neighbor ever got too stupid around us). Other parts also held onto some of it to some level but the sheer amount of feelings to unpack around the whole concept that XIV held onto has been something we've really had to look at.

And on that note, honestly a thing that disappoints me the most about the CDD community in specific is how its not particularly the most responsive or considerate to racial trauma and intergenerational trauma tied to culture and what not. I'm not sure if I'm the only POC that feels this way, but racial / inherited trauma is not really taken seriously or held to the standard that it should be and its often kind of ranked as "barely a trauma" when that shit really goes fucking hard on people.

I've talked to a lot of decedents of natives who really deeply insist and identify as white because just how much of their culture was stolen from them and how impossible it seems to ever be "authentically" in their culture. My writing partner spent his whole life being disconnected from his Jewish ancestry and has spent the past year or so "making up" for the damage and "righting the wrong" and going into DEEP study to reclaim it.

My whole dive into Buddhism and martial arts has been a long running journey in rebuilding the culture I was denied and had stolen from my dad and thus from me as well. I've personally come to the conclusion I'll never be able to carry on my family's culture to the way I want to and I'll probably never really know where my dad's side came from because quite frankly, I don't think he can even speak to his own mom (who I think died a few years ago) and his dad was ruined by the Opium Trade and because my dad has memory issues due to brain injuries and extensive trauma of having been a slave. I've had to come to terms that I'm probably always going to be an Indo-Chinese person so detatched from my proper culture and I really don't have any good ways to get back to it; but I very much CAN invest and rebuild the passive Buddhist background I was somewhat raised with and develop and rebuild my relationship as a Chinese-American and I can do my part to keep that part of my culture alive and well.

(Plus there is also a lot to say about how the existence of people with erased cultures are STILL inherently part of the narrative and story of their cultures history and story and even if the traditions are lost, everyone born into their culture is still carrying the mantle and collective narrative of how said culture was impacted by colonizers and how the culture as a whole responded; I'm very much of the belief that some damages really cant be undone and some losses aren't able to ever be fully repaired and some individuals disconnected from their culture will never have the same relationship they SHOULD have had, but to just conform and label yourself as "white" because you feel you would be "intruding" as a "fake POC" is a bit of a tragic ending.)

(I totally get it and I don't think anyone should feel bad for feeling that way, because there is a good portion of truth to it and trying to carry on the story when you feel like you know nothing of the story before is a really hard thing to do and it takes a lot of reflection; but HONESTLY I much prefer the narrative of "white western colonizers tried to erase us and yet here we are, persevering and existing despite all aggressive and unfavorable situations".)

But ya know, that's all just to say that I really dislike seeing colonialist and white/western things pushed onto me and onto others in spaces I'm in because I really have seen the damage that does to people and felt it first hand. Even if it means little to much of anyone on tumblr dot com, the website half made up of Americans and mostly white people, it's kind of just a sentiment I have as a means of self respect to myself and my peers that have been fucked over by white / western individuals.

Plus, I honestly believe in the best of the white and western people here and like to think most people just have not considered things in a non white-western perspective cause white-western countries don't really promote non white-western thinking or really promote non white-western voices so most people really just haven't been prompted to think in other ways.

But anyways, I'm rambling at this point, but jsut some thoughts and feelings on the matter from Feathers

[nyaagolor]

SV Rivals Headcanons

I did it for team star so this feels only fair. Under the cut bc it's long

Arven:

He baby-talks to his pokemon but especially Mabosstiff. If anyone sees him doing it he will probably melt from embarrassment but it's Fine. He loves cooing at Mabosstiff and squishing its face and kissing its nose while making silly faces. "Who's a good boy" energy

He has dyslexia and is just so so so bad at traditional schoolwork. With all the work he missed he's failing all his classes, but is not really willing to ask for help because everyone knows how smart his parents are. That makes it hard for him because he thinks asking for help means disappointing them. This is especially bad with Clavell, since he's the one who talks about Sada and Turo the most (if Clavell realized this he would freak out tho, he cares about Arven a lot)

(points) inferiority complex. He's so used to being around overachievers that he's overly aware of his "shortcomings" and sees anything less than exceptional as a failure. Being compared to his parents all the time certainly doesn't help. He never gives himself credit for the things he's good at, and beats himself up too much over his mistakes. Boys who have low self-esteem to me

Related to the above points but oh man he NEVER admits when he's struggling. The cocktail of abandonment issues and low self-esteem means he feels the need to "prove himself" by never having visible issues and always working through things alone. He would rather die than cry in front of his friends. Luckily for him, everyone in Team Star is an expert at seeing through emotional facades and catches onto that pretty early so he has a support system that teases out all that buried nonsense and helps him work through it

You know those people who make food and share it with their dog? That's Arven. Mabosstiff is allowed to eat off Arven's plate whenever it wants, Arven spoils that dog rotten. They're rolling out of the Starbucks with a caramel frappe and a pup cup living their best life. Arven also bakes Mabosstiff a birthday cake every year, which is ironic because he doesn't make himself a birthday cake. Anything for Mabosstiff

I know canonically the 'raidon attacked wild pokemon but in my heart it attacked Arven, giving him a scar on his eye that he covers with his bangs. The reason the professor booked it to Area Zero without Arven is less because of the "oh they saw the 'raidon" part and more because 1. It hurt their son and they want to protect him and 2. If the League found out the professor was illegally keeping a mysterious pokemon who permanently scarred a child, they would definitely try and take it away which the professor is terrified of. They didn't explain this to Arven, however, who simply thought the professor abandoned him because they cared about the 'raidon more

Arven is very bulky and very strong. He can bench press more than anyone thinks, and is usually the guy to call if you need help lifting / carrying something. Despite his ability to snap your spine like a toothpick, however, she would much rather use his hands to help and not hurt. Boy who is so so sensitive and sweet

He loves to make cute little shapes with his food and has become absolutely enamored with the idea of bento boxes. Bunny shaped apple slices? Heart sandwiches? Sign him UP. His friends are more than happy to eat all the leftovers and scraps from his culinary experiments, so it's a win win for everyone

None of his pokemon are actually in pokeballs except for Mabosstiff, they're just free roaming. He'll call them when he needs them and they might stay in their balls for a short time, but overall they're more like work partners than pets like Penny's veevees. He managed to win all of them over with food, they just showed up at his picnics and followed him around. It's a good partnership, since Arven doesn't consider himself a traditional pokemon trainer anyway

He doesn't own any social media and is convinced all of Penny's terminally online speak is her trying to hex him. He's very content with this lifestyle and has no desire to learn anything about the web anytime soon. The benefit of this is that he hasn't seen most memes and subsequently finds them to be absolute goddamn riots. The "quieres" meme with a Maschiff was all he would talk about for days because he found it that funny

Nemona:

She is on the edge of her seat waiting for someone to send the "would you still love me if I were an Orthworm" meme to her. She figured out what her friends' natures would be based on their personalities and has a dozen page document detailing their new wormy battle strategy that she cannot wait to share

According to her, the reason she can't hit anything she's aiming for with a pokeball is because her family is descended from the King of Paldea. Because of that, they're subject to a multi-generational wizard curse where their arrows (and subsequently pokeballs) are destined to never hit their targets. No one can figure out if she's joking or not

I'm far from the first person to think this but this girl is autistic. Battling special interest, can't read the room, no volume control, relates everything to her special interest to understand it better, extremely bad at interpreting body language, fixates on tasks really easily, very often goes past her and others' limits without realizing, trouble relating to others, etc etc. Because of her obliviousness in social situations she often ends up being over-friendly to strangers and coming off far too strong, which scares people off

Genuinely, unironically does not realize her parents dropping her off with house staff and never seeing her is supposed to be a bad thing. Her friends are mortified to find out that her parents didn't show up to the League Ceremony when she became the youngest ever champion ranked trainer, but she's unbothered by it. Overall she's less sensitive to being ignored or forgotten or left by herself than any of her friends; she can vibe with solitude

She has a chronic illness. I have not thought too hard about which one but one of them, prolly related to nerve damage of some kind hence the arm brace. It leads to easy fatigue and some dull pain in her arm and shoulder, but the school doesn't know about it because she keeps conveniently forgetting to bring in the paperwork to Miriam. Dendra has her suspicions though

Ngl she gives school mascot energy. She's super energetic, genuinely loves the academy, and is hella tall which is basically a requirement for being the mascot. If she doesn't have the stamina for competitive sports she sure as hell is gonna cheer them on. Cue her rolling up to the bleachers in the most terrifying Pawmi fursuit you've ever seen in your life

Nemona is very very bad at having frank and straightforward emotional conversations but is absolutely SUPREME at cheering people up. Distraction queen. She isn't going to be able to address and solve your problems, but she can turn any bad day into a good one with some ice cream, a smile, and a positive attitude

Nemona doesn't know this but Arven doesn't like her (dw they get better). They used to be neighbors and would hang out as kids. At the time, Nemona wanted to be a pokemon professor-- she was chronically ill / fatigued so her parents encouraged her to talk to the Professor who lived in the lighthouse and maybe become a professor herself. Loving pokemon and being naturally curious, Nemona would talk their ear off for hours, but Arven just saw that as encroaching on the professor's super limited off-work time. He was pretty bitter that this other girl was getting more attention from his own parent than he was, not that Nemona ever realized that. But when the professor got the 'raidon, they became more reclusive, and Arven simply starting ignoring Nemona when she would knock on the door. It took a while, but she eventually got the hint, assuming they had moved or something and simply forgot to say goodbye. Arven is still mad about it all and finds Nemona obnoxious and overbearing, but she still thinks of him as a fond childhood friend, being none the wiser to his distaste for her. Eventually they get better

Her Pawmi / Pawmot was originally a therapy pokemon, intended to loosen any muscle spasms and help with the nerve-related pain in her arm. He's the pokemon she had the longest, but she didn't bother to train him for battle until recently

She's really bad at remembering people's faces, so she acts really friendly to everyone she sees to save herself the awkwardness of treating an acquaintance like a stranger. She also genuinely loves meeting new people and pokemon, so it's not really an act

Penny:

Penny doesn't really have a strong Galarian accent until she's yelling. She sounds like a native Paldean and then gets pissed and hits you with an "OI MATE" with enough psychic damage to kill a man

Her favorite ice cream flavor is "eeveelution sorbet" which is this giant rainbow mashup of flavor. It's lemon for jolteon, lime for leafeon, peach for sylveon, blue raspberry for vaporeon, orange for flareon, vanilla for glaceon, blackberry for umbreon and grape for espeon. Arven feels personally offended by its existence because "it's an insult to good cooking" and tastes like preservatives

In Paldea, "jelly" refers to the fruit spead, but in Galar, "jam" is the fruit spread and "jelly" is gelatin. Penny has been hearing Arven talk about "peanut butter and jelly" for ages now and is dead convinced that Paldeans just have shit taste. No one is aware of this miscommunication and just thinks that Penny hates fruit

Penny hacked the future paradox pokemon. She jailbroke Miraidon and can play compressed midi files on it and change the color of its lights. Future pokemon use super compressed files because things are better in the future and they don't need as much space, so Penny is currently working on getting past that limitation so she can play Doom on the thing

Good luck getting her to show up for class. She'll come and take tests, but god forbid it's a class that cold calls? She will literally never show up. Girl whose participation grades are Zero. Clavell does talk to her and authorize her to have Sylveon out of its ball in class because it's certified as a therapy pokemon, so its usually napping under her desk to help her cope with the anxiety of Being In A Classroom

Penny managed to convince Arven that blue raspberry is a real, albeit rare, Galarian fruit. He actually fell for it before Saguaro explained that she was lying to him. He still hasn't forgiven her for this

This woman vapes u cannot convince me otherwise. She has an eevee-shaped pen and always smells like watermelon. Luckily for her, miss student council president actually paid attention to those D.A.R.E lectures and read her the riot act when she realized what was going on, so she's being forced to quit and is a little bit grumpy about it. Giacomo is likewise disappointed in Penny's choices and has suggested she just switch to weed instead. Penny thinks this is a much more suitable compromise

Her eevee backpack is endless. Penny has pulled out snacks, flashdrives, a first-aid kit, a CD player, a toothbrush, Veevee treats, a cat-ear headband, and a taser from that thing within an hour. Anything you might need is probably inside whether or not it should reasonably fit. Hammerspace type beat

Geeta somewhat regrets hiring her. She does good work and the rest of the staff loves her, but she's also far less willing to put up with office bureaucracy things than any of the other staff and it's gonna give Geeta a migraine. One time Geeta asked Penny to work on a Saturday and she threatened to unionize. Larry thought it was so funny he bought Penny dinner. They're homies now

She can pick locks. Clavell is genuinely and rightfully terrified of her because they both know she can pick the lock to his office and completely wreck the school's security and financial system if you gave her a motive and a half hour

[punsmaster69]

21/JAN/20XX

[There are a few random scribbles on the top of the page.]

——

whoops.

i meant to write sooner, but that's all i got down before conkin' out, apparently.

me and tori went for a picnic by the river. it's a short ways out of town, not super far given we're located near the edge of it.

notably, there's no ice floating in this river.

at some point i had leaned over to look at the glistening water, sparkling in the sun, when i realized something i definitely should have noticed sooner.

albeit small and slightly faint,

i have a scar on my face.

"You did not realize?"

"no. how long's it been there?"

"Since the whole 'explosion' incident that kicked this issue into high gear."

"i don't know how i didn't see it."

"Well... it is true that you're only recently regaining full vision back, is it not?"

"yeah."

i tossed a rock into the water, the ripples making my reflection warble.

"And you are certainly not the type to look in the mirror often."

"true."

"That, and it really is quite faint - hardly noticeable, in honesty."

toriel took my face in her hand and gently moved it to see the scar closer.

"I think it may even disappear entirely, as long as you don't repeat the injury."

"don't plan on exploding any more eyes."

"I don't imagine the last one was exactly planned either..."

"fair point."

"i'll try not to recreate it again."

she dropped her hand from my face, letting it fall onto my hand instead.

"didn't expect to start the new year with a badass scar."

"I do not think 'badass' is the right word."

"what, you think it looks lame or somethin'?"

"The scar is caused from your lack of self-expression. That is not a very 'badass' story behind-"

"it's technically caused by something 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 by the self-expression thing."

"That is essentially the same thing."

"no. i can just say 'my eye exploded' and it'll be true."

"And if they ask why?"

"uhhh."

"i'll tell 'em it's a skeleton thing."

"A skeleton thing?"

"yup."

"there's a lot of skeleton-specific things, y'know."

"it's believable."

"Could you give me an example?"

"of my skeleton things?"

i fought a short internal battle and immediately lost.

"whoa. right here?"

"you wanna see my skeleton thing?"

tori cackled.

"That is not what I meant, you bonehead."

"don't know that have one of 𝘵���𝘰𝘴𝘦.."

"?"

"A b-"

she covered her mouth when she realized and smacked my shoulder.

"Dirty!"

"you're the one who asked to see-"

"Stop this!"

"Scandalous skeleton."

"like i said. you definitely asked."

i reached over, grabbing her bottle of tea and taking a sip.

"not like i've really got one."

"..That is my bottle."

"yup."

"You're aware?"

"yup."

"Then why?"

"food always tastes better taken from someone else."

trying to take the bottle from me, tori leaned across the picnic blanket. i sat back and held it further away. she continued leaning. we kept going until i was on the ground. her hands around my wrists pinned me in place.

"Ha!"

it took effort to not think about her weight on mine.

"I wonder if it tastes just as good stolen back?"

it was hard to think at all.

"alright. you got your drink back."

"can i be unpinned now?"

"Unp-"

"OH!"

tori scrambled to release me.

"I'm so sorry, Sans."

"I hope I was not hurting you."

"definitely not."

"...."

"...."

"It tastes just the same."

"you can steal mine if you want."

"It is alright."

"how are you ever gonna 𝘵𝘦𝘢 the difference if you don't?"

"It is hardly stealing if you've given me permission."

"..ok. aaah, noo, don't steal my drinkk! how could youu?"

"Pfft."

"Yelling is certainly not your forte."

despite declining previously, she decided now to take a drink from my bottle.

"or even capitalizing."

"Maybe you're right."

"hm?"

"It 𝗶𝘀 better stolen."

"what'd i say? it always is."

"I wonder 𝘸𝘩𝘺 that is."

"the added flavor of thievery, of course."

"Shall we just swap bottles, then?"

"sure."

"i hope the thievery flavor doesn't add too many carbs."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"i'm trying to watch my figure. can't keep this hot bod without a few sacrifices."

"Dad bod, maybe."

"less of a dad bod. more of a father figure."

"Hehehe."

"I do certainly prefer you big-boned, though."

"well. in that case."

i grabbed a bag of chips from our picnic basket.

"I am on a bit of a diet as well."

"yeah?"

"A seafood diet."

"........."

"seafood, huh?"

"I 𝘀𝗲𝗲 food and I eat it!"

never honestly laughed at that one before now.

i'm certain i've ironically gotten a shirt with that printed on it for alphys once. now i'm thinking that i should get one for tori.

——

trying to open and shut the front door as quietly as i could, i immediately broke the silence by dropping my keys in the dark. papyrus' door opened.

"shit."

"SANS? ARE YOU HOME?"

"..yeah."

"sorry for wakin' you."

"WHY WERE YOU OUT SO LATE AGAIN?"

"just out and about."

"YOU ONLY ANSWERED ONE MESSAGE THE WHOLE TIME."

"sorry bro. got distracted."

" 'OUT AND ABOUT' DOESN'T REALLY EXPLAIN WHAT YOU WERE DOING, EITHER."

to my dismay, he flicked on the lights when i got to my door.

"........"

"SO YOU ACTUALLY WORE THAT TURTLENECK."

"can't let it rot away in my dresser forever."

he folded his arms and leaned against the wall outside my doorway. i didn't bother closing the door.

i tossed the turtleneck into my room and slipped on a random unfolded shirt.

"I TAKE IT YOU WENT TO SEE MS. TORIEL, THEN."

"let's not do this."

"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING."

i did the same with my capris, kicking them off and replacing them with my usual shorts.

"..AT LEAST I KNOW YOU WERE IN GOOD HANDS."

sighing, i stepped out of my room and flicked the light down.

"gonna go not-think on the couch. i promise not to have the tv too loud."

"DON'T STAY UP TOO MUCH LATER, PLEASE."

"ok."

"AND EAT SOMETHING, IF YOU HAVEN'T."

"ok."

"REALLY. DON'T STAY UP LONG."

"i won't."

"goodnight bro."

"GOODNIGHT, SANS."

[maestro04yayyy]

The thought occurs, its only fair I explain my spin on toxic Yuri Julerose given I asked for yours.

So, the original idea was from a concept I had called 'Six-Teen Heroes' where Gabriel had the Ladybug & went by Scarlet Sovereign & created Charm Constructs. He managed to ambush Fu who had to release the Miraculous & escape with but a few, while they went off to find suitable wielders who also couldn't fuck them over as Noroo had been.

Hence choosing teens & being aware of each others picks but their users not. Juleka got Roaar as she was excited and awed by a giant tiger monster in her bedroom.

Anyway, becoming Violet Tigress is kind of like a switch in her brain.

She metaphorically represses, rejects or tries to cast off all the stuff she hates about herself and embraces the frenzied chaotic energy & power of the Tiger, Combustion & Chaos, becoming the berserker of the team.

She also completely lacks the confidence, or self worth, to approach Rose as herself & so does so as Violet Tigress. But in that state she's a lot more aggressive, forward, and generally domineering in manner, a touch feral if you will.

Rose would probably be into that if Juleka did it, she kind of is to Tigress, but at the same time she doesn't know Tigress. So its basically just the strange super powered woman being hyper familiar with her but also protecting her. So it creates a skewed power dynamic without Juleka realizing it.

I hadn't thought about much on Rose's end, but I do like your idea that there's a part of her that likes being the center off someone's attention, of being needed and that, that can get messy if it goes out of control too, so there could be elements of that, along with perhaps romanticizing stuff she shouldn't be it for her or Juleka's ill.

That's if one wanted to get real messy with it anyway XD

It could easily be resolved too, but I sometimes enjoy messy stuff ;)

Fun aside, while this is happening, Chloe & Kagami are having an elaborate sort of friends but also rivals (as heroes) to lovers courtship. Lila is refusing the level of intimacy or introspection to determine if she even likes or just uses people. Nino is Clark Kenting on accident with a gutsy reporter Alya, and Luka is very, fucking, tired.

Ohhh thanks!!!!!

Amd i love this and it's awesome!!!!

Poor juleka doesn't know what she is doing but the chaos is amazing!!!!! And yeah it would get really messy if rose is like we theorized!!!

Also messy stuff is great every once in a while!!!!

And god kagami and chloe's end sound very cool!!!! And so does nino's(I really love the term clark kenting, it might be becaise i strated reading some dc fan fiction)

Luka is always tired, he is the only one with emotional intelligence and more than 3 brancells.

[adiluv-moved]

❥ 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 + 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒 ꒰𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈꒱. ˚⊹꒷

🌨️୧・꒰word count꒱ 718.

📨୧・꒰warnings꒱ none!

🍶୧・꒰adi moment꒱ based on this imagine! didn't have that much more to say for kurt and luchino i'm afraid, so maybe i'll make a full post for them another time? but yk i just had to add emily as my very first main, loml, and the character i almost s-badged ♡♡♡ hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི•̯́ ᴗ •̯̀꒱ྀི১

꒰💉꒱・Although one of the more sensible survivors, it does take Emily some time to realize that she even has a crush on you to begin with. After the... 'incident' at her clinic, it's safe to say that her circumstances weren't exactly steady enough for her to go around developing feelings—the overwhelming guilt and fear she'd been burdened with taking priority over such simple joys. While entrapment within the manor did allow her to regain some twisted sense of stability over her life, it still remained the last place she'd expected to find love... So she's very much shocked to find her face warming up after you'd thanked her for healing you mid-match.

꒰💉꒱・At first, she'll initially justify her reaction using the excuse of adrenaline—a justified reaction, considering her life is in constant danger during matches—though her reasoning doesn't exactly hold up when it continues to happen outside of matches. Usually, she hardly even thinks whenever she examines and dresses the various wounds that survivors ꒰and hunters, on rarer occasions꒱ enter the infirmary with, nor is a big deal if she has to tend to somebody that's gotten the unlucky cold or flu. Since that's the case, and she knows that it’s  the case... Why is it that her hands seem to be slightly shakier any time she's tending to you?

꒰💉꒱・While her occupation does do wonders at giving her reasons to talk to you, being the only reliable doctor within the manor certainly does come with its fair share of disadvantages. If she's not due to participate in a match, then there's somebody stumbling over to her in need of assistance. If the ever growing queue of patients has finally been cleared, she finds herself called back into the waiting room for yet another of the Baron's twisted games. And in the miraculous cases where neither of those situations are true, she's simply far too exhausted to even entertain the thought of seeking you out.

꒰💉꒱・Unlike both Kurt and Luchino, I don't think that Emily would be totally inexperienced with dating—having had a lover or two before being forced to take up her new identity. She hardly has much of an advantage at this point, though, considering just how long its been since she's experienced any sort of romance. She's especially bad with flirting, no longer anywhere near as energetic as her younger self. 

꒰💉꒱・Any hints of her feelings are incredibly subtle and easy to miss, leaving you in for quite the shock once her true intentions are revealed. What comes across to you as a friendly reminder to use the ointment she'd prescribed to you? Well, it was really just an excuse to talk to you. Her attentiveness to your well-being, along with the various supplements and vitamins that she recommends to keep you in tip-top shape? It's far more than she'd bother doing for most other survivors, by a long shot.

꒰💉꒱・She struggles a lot with her sense of guilt while crushing on you. Despite being aware of the many misdeeds of Oletus' other inhabitants, a part of her simply can't help but feel that she just doesn't deserve to have you reciprocate her feelings. As such, there are instances where she'd subconsciously sabotage herself, pushing you away in the hopes of destroying any chances of you liking her back. At the same time, however, the idea of making you uncomfortable in her presence is one she strongly dislikes—leading to a bizarre balancing act as she both pushes you away and pulls you towards her.

꒰💉꒱・For reasons mentioned in the previous headcanon, I don't see Emily as the type of person that would go out of her way to confess, though she would come clean about her growing affections for you if you decided to ask her about it. After all, it'd really only be counterintuitive for her to go and deny them if you've already started to suspect her—and she'll respect whatever decision you come to. Sure, receiving treatment might become a bit awkward if you decide to reject her, but the both of you ꒰seemingly꒱ have all the time in the world to move past it. She's not the type to hold such a thing against you, and she'd be absolutely honored if you decide to give her a chance.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[braindump333]

To my future husband…

It’s not easy for me to say this, but I want to be honest with you about who I am and how I am in relationships. It’s something I’ve been working on understanding about myself. Ever since I can remember, I’ve always been the “needy“ one in relationships. I know that word has negative connotations, but it’s how I’ve often felt. When I care about someone, I care intensely. It’s like my whole world starts to revolve around them. I guess it all started in my childhood. My parents well I think they did love me, but their love always felt conditional. My mom was very absent. Some days she would be around and actually be a mom, while other days she’d be gone, lost in her own world. I never knew which version of her I’d get. My dad, on the other hand, was always working. He provided for us, but he was never emotionally available. When he was around, it felt like I had to compete for his attention. I remember doing everything I could to make him proud, like getting great grades in school, to make him notice me. Their relationship was precarious. My dad was very manipulative and didn’t treat my mom very good. They’d get into fights, then eventually sweep the problem under the rug, and pretend everything is OK again. As a kid, it was very confusing and scary. I never knew if our “family“ was OK or if it was all about to fall apart again. I think that’s where my anxiety in relationship stems from. I learned that love is unpredictable, that it can be here one minute and gone the next. So now, as an adult, I’m constantly on high alert in my relationships. When I start caring about someone, it’s like a switch flips in my brain. Suddenly, I’m hyper aware of everything: every text, every call, every slight change in tone or expression. I’m always looking for signs that you’re pulling away or losing interest. I know it can be overwhelming. I tend to need a lot of reassurance. If you don’t text back quickly, my mind starts racing: “are they OK? Did I say something wrong? Are they losing interest?” I know it’s not rational, but in those moments, it feels so real. I crave closeness and intimacy. When we’re together, it’s amazing. But when we’re apart, I feel this emptiness, this anxiety that gnaws at me. I want to reach out constantly, to know that you’re thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about you. And conflicts, confrontations, disagreements, that’s when my anxiety really goes into overdrive. Any sign of disagreement feels like a threat to the relationship. I might become clingy, or I might lash out. Deep down, I’m terrified of abandonment, of losing you! I know I can be intense. I feel everything so deeply. When things are good, they’re incredibly good. It’s like I’m floating on cloud nine. But when there’s any hint of trouble, real or imagined, it’s like my world is ending, like hell on earth. I’ve noticed I have a tendency to lose myself in relationships. My interest, my friends, my goals, they all take a backseat to the relationship. I know it’s not healthy, but it’s like I don’t know how to be any other way. Sometimes I test a relationship without even realizing it. I might create conflicts or dramas, just to see how you react, to reassure myself that you care. I know it’s not fair to you, but it comes from this deep, seated fear of not being enough, of being rejected and abandoned once again. I want you to understand that when I’m acting clingy or needy, it’s not because I don’t trust you. It’s because I don’t trust that good things will last because I’ve learned that good things always come to an end. My childhood taught me that love is fleeting, that people leave, and I’m terrified of experiencing that pain again. But I’m trying to work on this, finding myself, building my self-esteem, healing from my wounds, becoming more secure, and learning to self soothe instead of constantly seeking external validation from you. I’m trying to understand that your need for space doesn’t mean you’re abandoning me. I know it’s not easy being with someone like me.

You might feel suffocated at times or frustrated by my need for constant reassurance. I get it, but I want you to know that I’m aware of these issues, and I’m actively trying to change. If you choose to be with me, I need you to please be patient. There will be times when my anxiety gets the best of me. Times when I might seem clingy or overly emotional. But I also promise you unwavering loyalty, deep empathy, and a love so strong it might overwhelm us both. I need open communication. If you need space, tell me. if I’m being too much, let me know. I’ll try not to take it personally, even though that’s hard for me. And please be clear about your feelings and intentions. Ambiguity is like kryptonite to me. I can’t promise you it will be easy. But I can promise you that I’ll try every day to do better, to love you in a healthier way. Because despite all my fears and anxieties, I do want to learn how to have a secure, balanced relationship. I understand if it’s too much. If you want to walk away now, I get it, even though it will hurt like hell. But if you’re willing to try, to work through this with me, then I’d be the happiest woman alive. Because all I’ve ever wanted, is someone who sees all of me - fears, anxieties, and all the ugly - and chooses to stay and love me anyway.