#LIKE??? WHY AREN'T PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT THIS MORE???

[tobi-smp]

I don't want to hold anything against this specific person, because I Remember the discourse that lead to this and I know exactly how it could get passed around and warped (either through telephone or someone's own memory shifting with time).

that said, I never liked that discourse specifically Because it was a clear misreading of the text, and what better opportunity do I have to talk about it now.

the context was the bench trio therapy stream. tommy had been beaten to death by dream, sat in limbo for months, and then revived and told Explicitly that dream was planning on escaping prison and tormenting the rest of the server.

the mindset that tommy is in is that he Has to do something, but he's deeply traumatized by what's happened to him. he's Scared to go back to the prison, but he has no choice but to do it for the safety of everyone else in the server.

the "therapy stream" was bench trio Trying to do exposure therapy on tommy to help him work through his trauma in the lead up to attempting to infiltrate the prison. and the entire point is that they Absolutely Were Not actually helping.

what they were Actually doing was triggering tommy by exposing him to things that he was traumatized by, because they didn't actually know how to do exposure therapy and what they were trying to do wasn't healthy in the first place.

so the Context of this conversation is tommy desperately trying to just, Get Rid Of his trauma (something that is absolutely not possible) while entering a worse and worse mindset because he was intentionally triggering himself.

Likewise, the context for Tubbo's half of the conversation is that he Very Intentionally represses his own trauma, both from Himself and from other people. he puts himself in a little box that he buries under the floorboards and asks people to ignore the way the boards creak when they walk on him.

there's a million ways you could cut Why he does this. part it is his people pleasing, willingly pushing himself down for the sake of everyone else no matter how painful. seeing Himself as an accessory to the people he cares about, rather than a whole complete and important person. and in part because it feels Safer, it's Safer to pretend that nothing hurt him.

and Why that is is complicated. part of it is External. he doesn't Get to be angry about what he's been through, because the people he's angry At will just hurt him again. and if he thinks about how he's hurt then he Will get angry, so he just Won't Think About It.

and part of it is that I don't think he wants to process his trauma any more than tommy does. because it's painful, because he doesn't have the tools to actually work through it, because they aren't Safe so he can't afford to break down now (trouble is, there never Seems to be a "safe" time to think about himself).

they're the Repression Brothers. the difference being that tommy's at a different stage of it. not a Healthy One, but different.

tommy spent months not being able to put into words what exile was, what pogtopia was, was the final control room was. and he still won't be able to put it in plain words for some time from here.

but he's reached the point where he Can't ignore it anymore, but he still doesn't know what to Do about it. he's still frustrated with an (to an extent) Ashamed Of his trauma. he feels Lesser Than he was before and wants it to all just go away and go back to Normal.

he's doing this because he Has To, because he Has to be strong enough to fight dream. because if he's too scared to do it then he'd be sacrificing everyone else's safety.

he and tubbo are doing the Same Thing in different fonts, sacrificing their well being for the people Around Them, including Each Other.

so, lets go back to that moment that started all of this.

the exposure therapy was on the final control room section, with tommy working through having been killed by dream.

tubbo mentions that he died that night too, and tommy says something to the effect of "you did, but you have thicker skin."

this has been taken out of context to mean "you did, but I have it worse than you," when IN CONTEXT it means "you did, but you're stronger than me," or more accurately "you did, But I'm Worse Than You."

tommy does not see his trauma in the context of stupid apologist discourse. he sees his trauma as something that makes him Worse, as something he Shouldn't Feel. as something that makes him Weaker than everyone else, who Obviously are so much more put together than he is.

when he says this he's not saying that he's more important than tubbo, he's putting himself down in comparison TO tubbo.

and this is absolutely still harmful ! This is legitimately one of tommy's character flaws ! but it is Not the selfishness that people make it out to be.

it's tommy accidentally hurting other people by seeing Himself negatively. it's an unhealthy relationship with mental health, and a Realistic one considering the circumstances and setting.

likewise, it's Just As Much born from tubbo's own unhealthy coping mechanisms. tommy assumes that what happened didn't bother tubbo the way it did him because Tubbo wants him to think that.

Tubbo doesn't let tommy see how much he's hurting, which in turn feeds into this cycle.

tubbo assumes he Has to shove his trauma down for tommy's sake (for the sake of Everyone he cares about), and so tommy assumes tubbo was just Stronger than him and wants desperately to just shove his own trauma away the way tubbo seems to be able to.

this moment IS tragic, it IS an example of the two of them hurting each other. but it's BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER !!!

Both Of Them are trying to be strong enough to protect the other, and it's Hurting Them. it's unhealthy, but it 's not Malicious. it's self-sacrificial not Selfish. it's not something they've done to each other but what's been done To Them by the world they live in. what they've done to Themselves trying to live in it.

this shouldn't have been a discourse moment, it should've been clingyduoers tearing each other apart in the street at the tragedy of it

[decolonize-the-everything]

"you're not going to get anywhere with that tone, you lack tact"

You don't listen to peaceful protests, you don't like angry protests, you don't like my tone when I'm upset, you think I'm faking oppression if I'm upbeat, you don't listen unless I'm suffering, but suffering too much is hard on you or means I'm faking it so I must understand when you neglect me for your "mental health". When you neglect me I make no progress but I'm the one to blame for that cuz Im just not trying hard enough, but try too hard to be heard and I lack tact which is such an affront that I'm not worth listening to no matter how dire my situation. You don't like unsourced posts but sourced posts are "too long" and I should really be more considerate and accessible if I want colonizers like you to-

I'm starting to think the tone & language aren't the reason you don't listen to the message, colonizer.

I'm starting to think you just dont like when I remind you that I'm a human being who deserves liberation from my oppression.

Unfollow me if you're like this. For real. I don't check my follower list so I won't notice you're gone.

Y'all need to understand, everyday I wake up and watch 20k people systematically ignore my posts on white supremacy and anything else that isn't a fun topic to talk about. I can literally see y'all in my notes skipping over my political/solidarity posts and reblog cute cat vids & memes I reblogged instead.

Those people are why I'm deleting my blog at the end of the year. Point blank.

I no longer care if you feel guilt tripped. Your feelings about oppression aren't my problem. As an oppressor they are quite literally your problem to solve. Don't like feeling guilty about this shitty fucking world of politics?

DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

Care about someone else's comfort for a fucking change.

God knows the world isn't fucked like this because people like me didn't try hard enough. Take a long fucking look in that mirror.

And if you decide you just don't care enough to be an ally:

UNFOLLOW ME, you little shit stain white supremacist

[eddis-not-eeddis]

How To Stop Killing Conversations

Talking is hard. People are confusing. Making friends is difficult, and interacting with coworkers is tortuous.

You want to make friends, you want to reach out, but it's hard and every time you start a conversation it dies, or limps along until both you and the person you're talking to are looking for excuses to kill it and put it out of it's misery so you can both escape the increasingly awkward situation.

As an introvert who has suffered a lot of social anxiety in my time, let me share a few tricks I've learned over the years going through hundreds and thousands of excruciatingly painful conversations until I found something that works. I've kind of distilled the process.

ALWAYS ASK A QUESTION!!!

The first thing is to always leave your partner an opening. You need to let each other talk for a conversation to get off the ground, but it's more than that, really. You need to actively encourage each other to talk. The best way to do that is to ask questions.

Here are two examples of an introduction: Example A

You: Hello.

Them: Hello.

You: Nice to meet you.

Them: Nice to meet you too.

Example B

Y: Hello, nice to meet you, how are you? T: I’m doing well, yourself?

Y: I've been really well. How are you liking the weather?

T: I'm so happy the weather's finally getting cooler, I'm looking forward to pumpkin spice season. Do you like lattes?

Do you see how in Example A the conversation wasn’t going anywhere? It just kinda died, because there weren’t any openings for new topics, whereas in Example B, there were openings to keep the conversation going.

But what do you do if your conversation partner is as socially inept as you were two minutes ago and doesn't play along? All is not lost.

Example C

Y: Hello, so nice to meet you, how have you been doing?

T: I'm doing well.

Y: That's great, are you enjoying the nice weather, then?

T: Yeah. I'm glad it's finally fall, I'm looking forward to pumpkin spice lattes.

Y: I love pumpkin spice lattes! Pumpkin spice anything, really. I recently got the best pumpkin spice candle at the shop down the road, have you been there?

Even if they don't leave you an opening, you can usually make one. It may be difficult, especially when they don't give you much to work with. This is where having a go-to script is a life-saver--me, I always default to talking about the weather, so when in doubt, you can do that.* The important thing right now is to keep fostering the conversation, so once you bring up the weather, segue into a question. When they answer the question, make a brief comment or observation from your own experience and build off of that comment or observation to ask another question.

"But I don't want to make it about me. Doing that's bad, right?"

This is why that questions are important. If you haven't been asked a question, you kinda have to make it about you, you don't have a choice. But to keep from being an attention hog, follow up your shared experience or anecdote with another question.

Example D

T: I love pumpkin spice lattes

Y: Me too. I had the best pumpkin spice latte the other day at the cafe down the road, have you ever been there?

Now you've circled the conversation back around to them again, and you aren't taking the limelight. Sharing an experience is so important, you're trying to show that you understand, that you sympathize, that you relate.**

This really is the most important element of being a good conversationalist. You have to keep asking questions.

The one other thing I will touch on is introductions. DO NOT get into turn based combat.

Example E

Y: Hello

T: Hello

Y: Nice to meet you

T: Nice to meet you too.

Y: How are you doing?

T: I'm fine. You?

Y: Me too.

This will kill any possibility of continuing a conversation. Instead, get it all out of the way all at once, if at all possible.

Example F

Y: Hi, it's nice to meet you, how are you doing?

This is good, but this is better

Example G

Y: Hi, nice to meet you, how are you liking the weather?

Don't ask how they are doing, or if you do, before they can answer, follow it up with your placeholder (weather etc.) so they have to say some thing like

Example H

T: I'm fine, and I'm really liking the weather.

or

T: Not so great, the weather sucks.

Either of those options are much easier to work with than your basic "I'm fine."

Usually, if you can get past the introduction, you can get a conversation going. And then, even if you don't end up hitting it off with the person you're talking with, you at least don't leave the conversation feeling like you've died a thousand tiny deaths.

In fact, if you get past that introduction, you may have just made yourself a friend.

Remember folks, basically everyone around you is more afraid of you than you are of them, and in this benighted age no one has been taught conversation skills, so we are all pretty much in the same boat. (Unless you were born an extrovert, in which case we are all deeply envious and would probably kill you if we didn't need you in our sad and lonely lives so much.)

Have grace for one another, and for yourselves because talking with people is difficult.

Go forth, and stop killing conversations.

*If you are one of those awful people who likes to brag about how you hate small talk and only want to talk about important and meaningful things, I have one question: Do you ever have a conversation that lasts long enough to become meaningful? I thought not. Small talk is an important skill. Develop it.

**This is how you deal with sad or difficult situations too. When you want to show you sympathize with someone going through a hard time.

Example:

Y: How are you doing?

T: Not very well. My dog died last week.

Y: Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. My own dog died last year and I still miss her a lot. How are you handling it?

Now you've circled the conversation back around to them again. You aren't making it about you.

If y'all want, next time I can share how to extricate yourself from a conversation.

[nocturnowlette]

Aren't you worried about forming a cult of personality?

Group hypnotherapy, mediated especially by a single individual, seems to encourage that kinda parasocial following.

Mix that with personalised sessions with multiple people, possibly seen as lovebombing. Elevating your audience to the idea that they're a mutual, when they're not even close to your personal life.

Why not just point to a larger, more professional hypnotherapy server? Such could guide the individual to somebody that may be better equipped for them personally, and constructive yet critical peers for yourself and other hypnotists.

It could offer other methods (including non-hypnotherapy ) that could guide individuals to heal faster.

Imo, it's a lot healthier when attention is spread out mutually, and treatment exposure is not at the whim of a subjective personality.

And if just a group, not primarily about hypnosis and more about your explorations of it, then you should post that kinda stuff to your channel instead so the video can receive feedback from hypnotherapists, and it'll be able to be seen by everybody, not just the people in your server, and you can just do puppy stuff there. As long as it's all safe and doesn't form unhealthy bonds that prioritise escapism over wellbeing.

You seem confused on what this server is.

Firstly, it's not hypnotherapy at all; it's a recreational hypnosis server. I, in fact, actively discourage anyone who is not a professional therapist (let alone hypnotherapist) from attempting to serve that role to someone else. Many hypnotists who just start out see conditioning as a hammer and every emotional problem as a nail, and I shut that down immediately.

You also seem to heavily overestimate my role as the server leader. If we were to quantify activity of hypnotists in the server, I likely would not even be in the top 5. I've largely lost my interest in regular hypnosis sessions for the last few months and serve mostly as the teacher and guide, as well as just the administrative server owner.

This server is not even about hypnosis so much as it is a community server that has hypnosis as a binding topic. If I were to give a topical split of how much it's talked about versus everything else, I'd say that it composes less than 10% of all discussion in the server. Therian/puppy stuff takes up slightly more than that, maybe 20 to 25%, then the rest of the server is nerds talking about their interests and having fun.

Any emotional progress made in the server is consequential and due to the place letting people feel safe to be themselves. Such a thing does seem to help folks quite a lot, but no active therapy is being done, and we encourage folks to actually seek therapy among other things.

My role as the server owner is largely due to necessity. I've always found myself at a lack of communities that actually suit me, so I've always had to make them myself. I quite dislike being the leader and much like with hypnosis, I actually prefer being on the lack-of-power end and not the super-in-power one. I'm a subject far more than a hypnotist.

I'm selective about who joins because every single server member to have caused issues and then left joined the first day of the server before there was a member cutoff. This place simply won't work for the majority of people, and the people who are let in are ones that would benefit from it.

On to the other topic, I trust therapists who know some hypnosis, not hypnotherapists. Hypnotherapy has been infected by quacks who know next to nothing and is, by almost every measure, a community destroyed by scientific mysticism. It is maybe the worst representation of hypnosis in our world and at best is hardly helpful, while at worst is actively destructive.

Every hypnotherapist I've met has been woefully knowledge-less on the actual functions of hypnosis and how it works, and seems to only know how to do the specific things they're taught. It's the difference between memorization and understanding. They were chewed up and spit out by the pseudoscience factory and think they know anything.

I have no intentions to ever be a hypnotherapist because it is not even close to the best method of processing any emotions whatsoever. I like hypnosis as a hobby, a way to have fun with people. If you want something similar that is more helpful, look into Gestalt therapy.

[thestalwartheart]

Some random things I've learned from writing and reading a LOT of smut:

So few characters are going to be smooth about sex, or even good at it.

All first times are at least briefly awkward.

Vulnerability + intense physical sensations + huge feelings = characters clamming up, moving awkwardly, getting overwhelmed etc etc

Seriously, sex can be so vulnerable, even if it's casual. Someone else is seeing all of you!! You are letting them inside!!

Not all characters will be comfortable talking dirty during sex...

...and dirty talk is so often not a verbose, flowing thing...

...AND sometimes silence (or an unfinished sentence) is hotter than any monologue of filth.

The mechanics matter a lot less than sensations and feelings.

No really, it's okay not to write out the 1-2-3 finger prep in full, laborious detail.

Contraceptives (esp condoms) are so rarely referenced in smutty fiction, and they don't tend to slide off or break (they do that a lot more often in real life).

People rarely spontaneously develop pet names in bed (unless it's been negotiated beforehand lol). If Character A is calling Character B 'baby' in bed when they've never referred to them like that in the story before, consider why they're doing it now. Is the sex dialogue really true to character?

BUT ALSO, a 'baby' or 'darling' slipping out mid-fuck presents an opportunity for a fun/hilarious reaction from Character B.

Semen isn't sticky. Lube is, after a while (though I'd describe it more accurately as tacky).

Sex is tiring. People get fatigued in one position after too long.

Sex is tiring. People aren't recreating cirque du soleil with twenty different positions in one session.

Water breaks are a thing!

Penetration doesn't have to be the end goal every time.

Neither does an orgasm.

[melu-lis]

anyone who simplifies the popularity of zuko to people liking "dark bad boys" is showing a sign of low media literacy. even before i watched atla, my friends recommended that i watched it solely bc of zuko. and after i watched it, i understood why. in the first episodes, most of the audience perceives him as this hot-headed jerk who's obsessed with capturing a 12 year old boy. but then we get to the episode "the storm" and we learn that the reason zuko wants to capture aang is because he was banished by his father; it doesn't excuse his actions but it is a reason. and then in the 2-parter of "the siege of the north, we learn that he has a sister and that their father often pitted them against each other, making him more sympathetic to the audience. from book 1, it is established that zuko will be more than just a villain. we don't see much of a change in zuko's character until book 2 after him and uncle iroh are branded as fugitives by the fire nation. throughout the season, we see him have an identity crisis and grappling with who he is. by the end of book 2, zuko seems to be content with his life in the earth kingdom and figuring out who he is by himself. that's why in tcod, the audience expects him to join the avatar especially after bonding with katara and confronting his uncle about teaming up with aang. but the show defies our expectations by having zuko join azula in her takeover of ba sing se. some people have a problem with this since he showed a lot of growth in book 2 and thought his betrayal was made to not make zutara a possibility but i think it make sense because zuko was more content being a neutral bystander and joining the avatar would be more risky especially he still wasn't on friendly terms with aang. when we see him return to the fire nation, we see that he's gotten everything that he ever wanted, he has father's approval and is hailed a hero by his country, but he isn't happy. this is why his confrontation with ozai is so satisfying, he realizes that not only the way his father treated him was inhumane and his approval is meaningless, but that his nation's century-long war was never a noble pursuit. when he joins the gaang, he tries his best to atone his past mistakes and demonstrate his sincerity of wanting to end the war and ends his arc by becoming the new fire lord ushered in an era of peace and kindness with the help of his ally and friend, aang. i think this why zuko is more popular compared to aang, the protagonist of the show. while aang and zuko are constantly portrayed as narrative foils to each other, aang doesn't have this constant inner turmoil that zuko does. this is why a lot of fans and casual viewers have an issue with gaang's confrontation with ozai. aang talks about how he struggles with killing ozai since it goes against the principles of his culture, a culture that is basically extinct, but this is never brought up until the series finale! it's not like there aren't any episodes where aang struggles with fulfilling his duties as the avatar, there are plenty and it does make him a sympathetic character. it's even more frustrating when you learn that aang not killing ozai was the plan since the production of book 1. there were countless opportunities where aang's struggle between wanting to maintain his identity and be a full-fledged avatar could've been addressed! i think this what aang stans who are resentful of zuko's popularity don't understand, aang's character arc is a lot more disoriented compared to zuko's.

[gloveslut]

oda died. chuuya has no idea.

babe, i'm back. ... hey, what's going on?

i'm leaving.

you're what? 'samu, did something happen?

stop fucking using that tone. or my name.

what the fuck? can you explain?

explain what?

everything?!

you knew it was only a matter of time. i don't know why you act surprised.

you don't wanna talk about it?

no.

...where to?

none of your business.

but osa- listen, you swore you wouldn't- ever-

i didn't swear shit to mafia.

...fuck no. that's not how you talk to me, you fucking piece of shit.

get off of me.

you're leaving me too! you swore shit to me!

you're nothing more than one of my mistakes.

i know you're lying, fuck, what's gotten into you?

i'm not lying, i can't bear even looking at you now.

but why? dazai, it's unfair to-

oh, and you're always fair to me? i know you're seeing someone else.

...who? tell me who told you that and i'll rip them apart, because it's fucking bullshit.

you're bullshit. all of you. it's your nature. quit playing the victim.

this is ridiculous-

and what are you gonna do about it? beg for me to stay? again? aren't you tired?

you know what? i am. because saying shit like that out of blue is too low, even for you.

i need to pack my things, get out of my-

who's blood is that? the hell is-

mine! it's mine cause i felt uneasy! stop sniffing around, you're not helping!

this doesn't look like- like- you know, there's too much of it, dazai, i don't understand-

you don't need to understand, chuuya, please, stop trying to get closer. you're not special. i'm not gonna take you with me so we can run off into the sunset.

but you can't do it completely on your own, god, are you even here with me?

i'm the one thinking critically right now. i can get killed otherwise, and i'm not gonna be alone.

...you can't just throw it at me like that. can i at least know when it started?

when what started?

well, your falling out? i guess i should've seen it coming with the way you hated introducing me to literally anyone.

i'm not here to fight about it with you.

but you accused me of cheating first thing i came in, idiot!-

i'm not- i was talking about him.

who? ...odasaku? ... fuck, i'm sorry for assuming- whatever, you do realise he's not gonna be here for you forever?

...chuuya, please.

i'm not trying to scare you off and obviously i'm not any better but-

please stop. some... people were here, but they left, and it's not so bad. it's gonna be fine and we're gonna find the best place to hide, i don't care what you think of it, we're gonna be- fine-

honey... i didn't mean to make it worse, it's o-

no it's not! you know nothing about me or my friends, i'm begging you- just- fuck off-

i know it's hard and-

don't touch me! ... god, just go away.

...so you mean it.

yes. i fucking do. now leave. you can get suicidal and stick around this burnt house as long as you want later.

...fuck you. i can't stand you anymore.

oh yeah? news to me.

yeah, cause i fucking loved you! i put everything i had eating me from inside away and stayed with you up untill this point. i made my whole life evolve around you. jesus, i even grew my hair for you!

uh-huh.

and guess what! i never fucking liked it this way. i barely got anything out of whatever we had going on. you didn't even wanna give it a name. cause i'd eat it up. and i did.

right.

fuck, dazai, can't you have a heart for a minute?

yeah no, not around someone who thinks of me as crazy, but thanks.

i don't- what the fuck are you talking about?

all the... nice treatment you gave me was always based purely on the fact that i'm fucking broken and that you should fix me. not only it's incredibly fucked up, you also just can't. you always play god here and there but you don't carry the power of one, not even close.

now, i didn't even-

chuuya, please. i'm asking kindly. i can easily get it over with, but i don't think it'd be either rational or pleasant for you.

...just like this?

yeah. just like this. if you can't accept that you're not needed, then you earn all the hostility. i'm done with all this shit. let us both finally have peace. ... that look doesn't exactly evoke peaceful feelings in me.

i... i have so much to say, to- to ask before- and there's not enough time- huh, it seems like it's never the time. i don't know if i should waste my chance, though.

i mean, if you realise how useless all of our conversations ever were...

...

woah. okay. ... one last question.

if you promise to never talk to me again, go on.

...did you- it's hard not to- ...well, i know someone died. i just have to know, are you the cause?

yes and no. unfortunately, i didn't get to kill anyone this time. but i'm also at fault. great one. i'm at hurry. so may i be excused? ... you better not show up in my life later on. not necessarily because you're so distractive, it's just the way it- it has to be. have fun around here, but be cautious. you never know where your line's gonna end. or when you're gonna lose someone. i guess it would be even more heartbreaking to you, 'normal people'.

wait, are you saying-

i thought you stopped bothering me. ...nevermind. do whatever you want.

i can't believe you're doing this to me.

please, move.

dazai- baby, i was only trying to-

now, you shut it and let me go or i'll slit your throat with this shiny thing. ... cool. oh, and... your letters or anything like that will never reach me. we have nothing to discuss. nothing that is worth the effort. i also think you said everything you wanted to. ...thank you- for, uh, not whining too much. see you in hell.

[gaylordscooter]

You're at the Party

“so you brought mass murderers to my place without warning me beforehand?” Cross said.

“Haha, nice.”

“don't humor them, chara.”

Blue wrung his hands together, opening his mouth to explain only for Ink to cut in.

“Listen, these guys aren't gonna cause any trouble. Besides, I thought this was a place where people could start over.” Ink crossed his arms.

“Two of them killed everyone in their universe? Hm, a Sans killing a bunch of people…Where have I heard that before?” XChara nudged Cross’s arm.

“you know that isn’t the problem here.”

Everyone gave Cross a look as if he was the one that was being unreasonable here.

Cross sighed, “fine, they can stay. but they need to pass a test first.”

Blue narrowed his eyes skeptically. “What kind of test?”

“well, i guess it's more of a favor.”

“Is this what I think it is? You're not sending them there.”

Cross waved away his concern. “it’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“What are we talking about?” Ink questioned.

Blue leaned close to Ink. “He’s totally planning to use them to retrieve his friend.”

“Oh! Hah. Ahahahahaha!” Ink giggled like he told him a joke. His eyelights reflected his amusement as he stared at Cross. “So we’re at this part now, huh?”

Cross looked confused while Blue huffed at his words and XChara looked bored.

Ink clapped his hands together. “Well then~! Have fun with that~!” he said cheerfully.

“I'm sure those tildes have no malice behind it,” Blue deadpanned.

“Oh, when have my tildes ever held malice~?”

Blue opted for putting his hands on his waist rather than gracing that with a reply.

“Anyway, I gotta bounce! I’ll see y’all later. Don't have too much fun without me~!” He painted a hole in the ground and hopped into it while waving goodbye.

“Eugh, he's like a kid that just learned about emoticons,” XChara said.

“you can't even see the tildes,” Cross pointed out.

XChara rolled their eyes. “I don't have to. I can hear it in his voice.”

“Never mind that. Cross, you can't send them there! I’ve already been making a careful plan. To just toss it out the window and replace it with an improvised one isn't a good idea!”

He rolled his eyelights and crossed his arms. “It doesn't need to work, anyway. I don't expect it to.”

Blue’s sockets widened as he gasped. “So you're just,” he gestured wildly, “sending them off to their deaths? Where's your compassion?”

“Where was their compassion when they hurt all those monsters?”

Blue narrowed his eye sockets. “Where's your compassion?” he repeated in a duller tone.

“Don't you have a Mettaton to serve? This isn't your business.” he snapped back.

Blue threw his hands up, “Wow! Sheesh. Fine. Go have fun torturing the prisoners of war.” He stormed off with a frown.

XChara and Cross watched as he walked in a direction that definitely led to nowhere rather than towards the town.

“He has a point,” XChara stated.

“Awful navigation skills is what he has,” Cross spat. He noticed XChara’s unamused face and did a double take. “Do you actually agree with him?”

“Huh! Do I agree with him that you have no right to judge these morally messed up monsters and that sending them to that freak’s place as punishment is completely hypocritical of you?” They stroked their chin and pretended to think about it hard. “Yes, Mr. ‘the reason why our world has become a hotspot for people who messed up like you!’”

“You don't care about them at all. You're just saying that to spite me.”

“I am, thanks for noticing,” they deadpanned.

Cross brought a hand to his face and sighed.

Killer awoke. He wasn't refreshed in the slightest and he nearly panicked over waking up in unfamiliar surroundings if it wasn't for Dust smacking him on the head.

No wait, he was called Dusk now. He even came up with that name for him.

Sheesh, the sudden change is gonna be hard to get used to.

Right. New chapter of his life. Again. Again again, actually.

Ironically, he was starting to get sick of new experiences.

This wasn't a bad change, really. In fact, it was a clear upgrade. Well, that's what he thought back when Nightmare first found him too, so.

He was waiting for the catch. He was ready this time.

There was a knock on the door.

Both of them had the knee-jerk reaction of summoning a blaster angled at the door but then the rational part of their minds took over and they scrambled out of bed to hold their blasters' mouths shut.

“good morning to you guys too,” said the voice behind the door.

They managed to desummon their blasters once they recognized that it was, in fact, Horror that knocked.

There was unmistakable joy on Killer’s face. He didn't say it, but he was convinced Horror was going to avoid them since they got settled in.

He skipped over to the door like a gleeful idiot and opened the door.

Killer was surprised by his getup. It was the first time he's seen him in different clothing. If it wasn't for the red eye in his socket he wouldn't have recognized him.

The first thing he noticed was the cap he was wearing. It was a generic white cap that covered the hole in his head. Other than that, his outfit was the same as any other normal Sans, sans the signature hoodie. He also looked a lot less tired.

“‘sup, h—sans. ‘sup sans,” Killer said, barely catching himself. He couldn't help but still refer to him as “Horror” in his mind, since from the day they met that's what he called him and known him as. But those names were nothing but brands that Nightmare put on him and Dusk. They weren't names that they chose for themselves.

“hey,” he replied with a small wave, mostly aimed at Dusk to acknowledge his presence even though he hadn't approached the door yet. “so…” he trailed off, unsure.

So.

They were in unfamiliar territory now. After a whole year of living with Nightmare, they formed somewhat of a schedule. A loose one, but a schedule nonetheless—mainly built off of the way Nightmare acted. 

With that thrown out the window, every step they took was unfamiliar. Potentially dangerous. Ironic, considering they were in a safer area now. At least they assumed so.

They hoped so.

They would normally eat breakfast at this time, probably. They weren't ever exactly sure what time it was, but that's how it's been their whole life. It felt like it was around that time, at least.

“my bro said there's a bakery here.” Another pause. Okay, he didn't have to make this that awkward. “you two wanna scope the place out with me?”

Killer’s smile perked up at the edges. “hate to say it, that sounded like you just asked us out on a date.”

“‘k, forget i asked.” He made the move to shut the door.

“nah, i’m joking! we’ll go—” he whipped his head to Dusk for verification, who gave him a thumbs up. “—yeah, let's go.”

So they got out of the hotel room. The lobby had a few people, unlike last time.

None of the three really acknowledged anyone there and no one acknowledged them, until some Monster Kid said a mere hello that made them all awkwardly respond; either with a curt head nod, wave, or quiet “hi” back.

Boy, they weren't ready to be perceived by anyone else. How the hell were they going to handle entering a cafe, let alone going outside? Well, Sans managed, so.

Sans was probably the most stable of the three, let's be real. He was the only one who had contact with other people before Nightmare came to them. When it comes to interaction, Killer and Dusk have done nothing but literally talk to themselves for who knows how long.

The second Sans started to open the door, Killer protested, “actually. could you just grab me something instead? i’ll stay in the room.” When he turned to retreat, Dusk grabbed him by the arm.

Dusk gave him a look that spelled “really, coward?”

“i don't think i’m ready, okay? sue me,” he said. He could already feel eyes on him. The stares gnawed away at his bones, trying to eat him alive. 

They knew what he wanted to do.

Dusk sighed, letting go of his arm. “we can't go,” he signed to Sans.

“right…” he sounded disappointed—no that was pity in his voice. He probably didn’t even expect the two to agree in the first place. “anything specific you want?”

“nothin’ with chocolate.”

Dusk shook his head.

“gotcha. i’ll be back in a bit,” he said.

Dusk and Killer watched as he sauntered off to be a normal monster that was a part of society. Then they walked at a breakneck pace back to their room.

Once they were back in the safety of their private room, they collapsed on their beds.

Killer, face buried against his pillow, groaned in frustration. “i hate this. we're safe now and i can't even go outside. do you feel it too, dusk? that tug on your soul?”

He might kill someone if he went outside. It was highly likely.

Of course it wouldn't be that easy to return to a normal life—of course his high LOVE would haunt him. He was too tired yesterday to be bothered by it, but now, any other monster he saw that wasn't Dusk or Sans had his soul screaming for more exp.

“i’m trying to ignore it,” Dusk mumbled.

He laughed. That's not going to work. That is not going to work and they both know it. 

That’s.

That's not going to work.

“it was—it was better when we were stuck with Nightmare. we wouldn't be able to—”

“It wasn’t better,” Dusk interrupted.

“—we’re going to kill someone. we're going to kill someone and it's going to snowball and it'll—hah—it'll be like a snowball of dust!”

He was choking now, on the rotten determination coming out of his skull.

“killer.”

That's what he was, wasn't he? A killer.

“killer!”

That's all he was.

“Killer.”

Oh, someone was holding him by the shoulders. Wow, everything was blurry and stained black. No, that was just the liquid in his sockets. He tilted his head down, letting it flow out until he could see better.

Oh, it was Dusk. Right.

He shuddered out a breath. He realized all his senses had turned off for the past few seconds. When the hell did he get on the floor?

His eyelights finally focused enough to stare back at Dusk. He didn't like the worried look he had on his face. He cleared his throat, trying to play it off, but all that did was make him hack out more rotten determination.

“well…” the sentence died on his teeth the second he started. “i want to go back to sleep,” he settled on saying.

Dusk brought him into a stilted not-quite-a-hug, where he brought him closer and draped his skull over his shoulder.

They just. Stayed there. For a bit.

“another episode…i’m starting a daily streak, really.” Any humor he thought that statement would have was completely absent. God, how fucking pathetic was he? Surely Dusk was struggling with his LOVE just as much as he was but he didn’t fuss about it. He shouldn’t need Dusk’s comfort and Dusk shouldn’t need to comfort him. He was so selfish. So needy.

Killer willed himself to move away from Dusk to lay back down on his bed.

The room was quiet until someone knocked on the door again.

Dusk opted to answer the door since Killer wasn't budging.

Fortunately it was Sans who was at the door but unfortunately, he wasn't alone. Behind him was another skeleton he hadn't seen before.

He wore monochromatic clothing and there were large x’s on his sleeves and boots. He looked a lot younger than all of them. He must've been in his 20’s. His eyelights were a lot bigger than the average sans, with a slitted pupil reminiscent of a cat’s.

Despite the youthful look, one glance was enough to tell Dusk that he had a lot of LOVE too. It wasn’t nearly as much as he or Killer had, but it was more than the amount Sans had.

Dusk glared at the stranger as if he personally wronged him.

Sans didn’t look too happy either with the death grip he had on the bag containing their breakfast.

“hey,” Sans said. He walked in as if everything was fine and normal.

The stranger also tried walking in as if everything was fine and normal.

A wall of bones rose in front of him to block his path.

Killer sat up on the bed, “nope. not dealing with unwelcome company now, thank you.”

The stranger cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “well, i’m actually the organizer of this place. the name’s cross. i’m sure ink told you three about me.”

“i’ve never heard of you in my life,” Killer said.

It was painfully clear that Cross was already annoyed by Killer, despite his attempts to keep his face neutral. “i’ll just get to the point—”

“he’s gonna test us. if we pass, we can stay. if we don’t, we’re getting kicked out,” Sans said. He opened the bag of food and grabbed a pastry for himself before handing it over to Dusk.

Dusk hesitated as he grabbed the bag. He quickly grabbed the first pastry he laid his hand on and turned to Killer.

“we’re getting kicked out?” Killer repeated.

“only if you don’t pass the test,” Cross emphasized.

Killer stood up as the wall of bones went away. He shambled over to him with a misleadingly calm expression. He leaned close to Cross’s head, keeping his hands by his sides. “what’s the test?”

Cross stood his ground, keeping his eyes locked on Killer as if he would attack him if he merely glanced away. “a rescue mission,” he answered with a steady voice despite the tension.

“the blue guy said you weren’t going to torture us,” Killer spat.

“it’s not torture. i have a plan. it should be simple,” Cross insisted.

He narrowed his eye sockets. “so why are you using us as fodder?”

“it’s a test.”

Sans snagged the bag from Dusk and shoved it over to Killer. “no point in complainin’, just roll with it.”

Killer pushed the bag aside. “why are you being so compliant? he’s going to send us to our deaths!”

“because we don’t have a choice,” he sighed. “besides, we’ve gone through hell and back, what’s one more trial?”

Killer caved in and grabbed the bag to fish out a pastry for himself. He took a hefty bite from it specifically to talk with his mouth full, “you gonna leave us alone after we complete this ‘rescue mission’?”

“yeah, just this one thing and you’ll all prove that i can trust you to stay here.”

Killer winced at the word “trust”. He quickly scarfed the rest of the pastry down. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t really blame Cross for putting them through a trial considering that they’re all murderers. Well, he didn’t think Sans should be judged to the same extent as them. He needed to kill all those humans in order to survive.

“why does sans need to go too? his friends and family have already been staying here,” he asked.

Cross looked surprised by his question. Fucker probably didn’t expect him to be considerate. “the plan’s easier with three people, and all three of you worked with nightmare.”

“worked!?” Killer shoved the bag towards Sans and grabbed Cross by his shirt. “we didn’t work with that bastard. he KIDNAPPED us! if you think for one second that we associated with him? oh you got it entirely wrong, asshole! do you think we had fun being his fucking toys?” he snapped.

“killer, let go of him,” Sans said.

“y’know what? fine. i’ll do your stupid test. nothing you put me through will be worse than what he did to us,” he snarled before pushing him away.

Cross fixed the wrinkles Killer made on his clothes. His nonchalant behavior pissed Killer off even more.

He was lucky he actually listened to Sans.

“sorry, i wasn’t aware of that,” he said quietly.

Killer calmed down only slightly at the apology. He crossed his arms and scoffed, “you better be.”

Cross waited for them to finish eating breakfast before he went over the plan.

As he talked more, the three were even less psyched about doing this.

They were going to disguise themselves and then enter the place through a portal made by Ink. The first part of the plan was finding the right monster. Cross handed them an image for reference. They collectively sighed when they saw it was yet another Sans. If he wasn't wearing the same outfit it would be hard to find him, that's not to mention that Cross said the place they were infiltrating was a packed warehouse.

The second part of the plan was actually leaving the place. Which was supposedly the easier part of the plan because Ink will arrive and make another portal once they find the monster.

All in all, this just sounded like some dumb hidden object game rather than a rescue mission.

Ink arrived at the room shortly after Cross finished explaining. He came in holding a pile of clothes, their disguises.

Said clothes were all campy and flashy.

“in what world,” Sans held up a sequin jacket that had colors that could blind hawks, “are these disguises?”

“Well you're going to a party! A rave, specifically,” Ink explained.

Killer snatched a red leather jacket and bell bottom jeans from the pile. “all of these shirts suck, i’m gonna change.” He went over to the bathroom with the articles in hand.

“Oh yeah!” Ink snapped his hand. He reached into the pockets of his pants and took out three pairs of sunglasses, each were different shapes. “Almost forgot the most important part.”

“glasses,” Sans remarked.

Dusk and Sans exchanged glances with each other.

“it's really bright there,” Cross explained.

“in a warehouse?”

“trust me, the strobe lights could probably blind you otherwise.”

Sans narrowed his sockets.

Killer finished changing and waltzed out of the bathroom, flaunting his gaudy outfit.

“no shirt?” Sans remarked.

“i said they all suck.”

“surely you could just wear the shirt you already had on.”

“actually,” Cross butted in, “after you three get back we’re burning those clothes immediately. so probably don't wear anything that's actually yours.”

“and why are you doing that?”

“Cooties,” Ink deadpanned.

Cross frowned at him.

“Anyways, take a pair. Whatever you do, do not take them off.” Ink held out the shades with a wink.

Killer opted for the triangular ones while Dusk grabbed the rectangular ones and Sans got the circular ones.

Then Dusk and Sans grabbed whatever clothing, tossing any attempts to make a cohesive outfit out the window, and took turns changing in the bathroom.

Finally, Cross looked over the three, determining if their disguises were good to go. Dusk and Sans’s fits were horrible. That neon fluffy bucket hat that Sans wore was definitely not comfortable. At least Killer had a cohesive outfit.

He spent a second longer looking at Killer's sunglasses. He leaned close to Ink. “it doesn't cover his sockets fully,” he whispered.

“It’ll be fiiine,” Ink assured. He clasped his hands together. “Okay! You're all ready to go. Don't forget, you're looking for Epic, the most notable feature is the scar on his eye socket. Keep your distance from other partygoers and do not take off those shades.” His scarf swept at the floor underneath the three, creating holes that lead to their destination.

The three could barely see Ink waving goodbye as they fell.

The landing wasn't bad, all of them landed on their feet just fine, but the change in atmosphere gave them whiplash. While it was dark as night, strobe lights flashed and lit up the place erratically.

Oh god the music.

Eurodance from the 90’s was blasting with bass heavy enough to shake the building.

Oh god, the amount of monsters.

They were also dressed in gaudy outfits, which explained why their disguises were like that.

“cool. all we need to do is find whoever the hell ‘epic’ is. should we split?” Killer asked.

“oh god no,” Sans said.

Dusk grabbed them by their shoulders to drag them around and start their search.

“they're all wearing glasses too, didn't they say a scar on the socket is how we can differentiate him?” Sans said.

Killer groaned, “this is gonna take forever! we should just ask around or something.”

“you suddenly in the mood for social interaction?”

“this sensory nightmare’s making me feel like i’m floating out of my body, i just want to get this over with.” Killer approached one of the partygoers. “hey, y’know where a skeleton called epic is?”

He was completely ignored.

“cool. awesome. if we don't split up this’ll literally take forever, peace.” Killer walked off without waiting for the other two’s input.

Dusk and Sans watched as he got lost in the crowd in a whopping five seconds.

Dusk face palmed.

“maybe…maybe we can ask the dj? then they'll put out an announcement, or something,” Sans said.

“not that simple,” Dusk signed. He spelled out “fishy”.

“would it hurt to try?”

Dusk frantically shook his fist in a “yes.”

“eh, don't be a downer. where is the dj, anyway?” He looked around, fortunately most of the monsters here were around the same height as him so his view wasn't too obstructed. “yeesh, this place is big.”

The strobe lights flickered more as they all started moving to one point. The lights shone on the DJ station, the DJ themself was still shrouded in darkness. The sound of scratching discs filled the building as the music quieted down. “HOW WE FEELIN’ BROSEPHS ‘N JOESEPHS!?”

A mechanical roar of cheers rang out among the crowd.

They recognized that voice. They most definitely recognized that voice.

Dusk grabbed Sans by the arm.

“okay,” Sans breathed, “that's fine. maybe, no one knows his deal. we can just. leave the building.”

Dusk tugged at Sans, pointing furiously at the ground.

It was hard to notice due to how dark and packed it is, but on the ground were several piles of dust.

“hm. nice knowing ya.”

“You party animals havin’ fun?! I know I am, yo!” The unmistakable sound of Fresh’s voice boomed throughout the warehouse. The lights finally shone on him. He looked exactly the same as the first time they saw him. He was spinning. a disc on his finger. “I just gots some totes rad news before we continue on with gettin’ jiggy.”

The colored lights moved over to his side, revealing a stage that was hidden in the darkness, and on the stage was Killer. He looked confused, as if he didn't even know how he got up there.

Sans nearly swore but Dusk slapped a hand over his mouth.

When he caught sight of Fresh he stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

“Any bros know this fool?” Fresh asked. He put the disk back on the turntable and scratched his chin. “I don't. Did we invite him?” His bemusement barely masked his elation at having prey he didn't have to catch.

Killer didn't know what to do. He looked down at the crowd. The sunglasses they wore were originally all blank but the familiar “YOLO” text was on them now.

Running definitely wasn't going to help.

“Eh no biggie. I’ll give him a proper introduction to this rad party.” Fresh turned the music back on.

Killer internally swore at Cross, cursing his entire life. He was going to die and it was going to be to the fucking tune of a stupid 90’s song about sex. Well he wasn't going down without a fight.

He summoned a blaster aimed at Fresh and fired.

Only for one of the partygoers to leap into the blast to block it.

Killer watched in horror as he dusted that monster. The familiar rush of exp hit him like a truck, he couldn't help but fall to his knees.

“oh god,” Sans muttered from the crowd.

The three were completely powerless in this situation. This wasn't a fucking test. They were sent to their deaths.

What a sick joke.

“Oh snap! Well, you're just gonna hafta replace that now, aren't ya?” Fresh disappeared with a poof, promptly reappearing behind Killer.

Killer quickly pushed himself up and backed away from him.

Fresh didn't even follow him, the stage wasn't that big anyway.

He reached the edge of the stage, back to the crowd. Only Fresh could see the fear on his face.

Some of the crowd climbed on stage to grab his ankles, anchoring him down.

 He was hyperventilating, he was overwhelmed, he felt nothing at all.

He felt nothing at all.

Dusk and Sans went as far as they could away from the stage. They eventually reached a wall. Sans leaned against it in defeat while Dusk banged his skull against it.

Sans winced at the loud thud.

They could vaguely see the stage from here. Killer was gone and Fresh returned to his station.

The party continued on like nothing happened.

“so. do you think you’ll end up back in your universe after, or.”

Dusk huffed.

“right.” Dumb question.

They just stood there against the wall watching the neverending party. They questioned if this was hell or purgatory. No, this was definitely hell.

“ey, i finally found you guys.” It was Killer.

Dusk and Sans tensed.

His soul was a shape they’ve never seen it be before. It was in the shape of a flower.

“chillax, i’m not gonna do anything,” he said. His cadence was off. “you two have just been standing there all gloomy…” He put a hand on the wall just above Dusk’s shoulder. “why don’t you come join the fun?”

With how close he was, Dusk was able to see the parasitic flower in the small sliver of his sockets that wasn't covered by the triangular shades.

Killer leaned closer to his face. “c’mon, i’m getting lonely.”

Sans socked him in the face.

Dusk flinched back in surprise as Killer fell to the ground from the impact.

Sans shook the pain off his hand. “i think we're good.”

Dusk knelt down by Killer. He took his shades off and immediately plunged his hand into the socket containing the flower.

“uh—” Sans reached a hand out but was interrupted by Killer’s lucid screaming.

The nearby skeletons slowed their dancing, turning over to the interruption.

With one last quick yank, the flower snapped off. Dusk dropped it and stamped his foot on it repeatedly.

Killer gasped for air and keened in pain. Then he passed out.

Dusk blinked in shock.

Sans cringed, “think you went a bit overboard.”

“you were the one who punched him!” Dusk blurted stupidly.

“yup, and you committed malpractice.”

The music came to a halt with a dramatic record scratch.

The lights landed on the three.

“Yo, dudes. Quit harshin’ the vibe,” Fresh scoffed into the mic.

Dusk rolled his eyelights and picked Killer up, draping him over his shoulder.

They were surrounded now, by the skeletons under his control.

Dusk summoned multiple blasters overhead, ready to fire if any of them stepped closer.

“Yeesh! You three weren't even invited! What's the dealio? That scummy octo brought you here to rustle my jimmies or something?”

That. Wasn't even 90’s lingo.

There was some feedback coming from the mic. “That thing’s not comin’ here for real, actually, right?” For once he sounded unsure.

Was he actually threatened by Nightmare?

They had to roll with the lie. They could survive this. They just had to convince him he was coming.

Sans put a hand on Dusk’s shoulder. “nah yeah, he won't have to intervene as long as we get what he needs.”

“Bogus! Whaddaheck would that dillweed need?”

Sans pulled out the image of Epic from his pocket and showed it to the nearest partygoer. “we just need this guy, and we'll be outta your hair.”

“Oooh, yeah, I get what you're layin’ down.”

Said nearest partygoer grabbed Sans’s wrist.

“You're fibbin’.”

Welp.

Dusk was just about to fire the blasters on standby, only for a cluster of bones to sprout from the ceiling and stab through the giant skulls.

Dusk grumbled. He adjusted his grip on Killer so that he didn't drop him.

“you're kinda grabbing his butt,” Sans pointed out.

“we’ve done worse.”

“go back to not talking.”

“Aight. So y’all come on in uninvited and interrupt my bodacious party? S’all good. I’ll let you dudes bounce…not!” Fresh yelled into the mic. “I’m gonna enjoy taking y’all over. You're not worming your way out this time.”

Right as his sentence ended, it was disproved. A portal opened. It was like the light at the end of the tunnel.

That portal looked similar to the ones Nightmare made, actually.

“Ah, nah, what’s the dealio?”

But instead of the guardian of negativity arriving, a huge wave of tiny not-quite-skeletons poured in like a flood.

“what,” Dusk and Sans said in unison as absolute chaos unfolded in the warehouse.

These “not-quite-skeletons” acted more like hyperactive temmies. Their giant skulls were bigger than the rest of their body making them look more like aliens than anything. They all wore bandanas that matched the color of their huge star eyelights. They bounded around the place causing total anarchy.

Fresh among others were trampled by these small menaces. Some were simply dancing to the music while others were actively jumping some of the partygoers. They swore they even saw one playing with a pile of dust.

And all of this was happening while “We Like to Party!” by the Vengaboys was playing.

A second portal opened up behind them. They didn't even get to process this before someone yanked them through.

They both landed on their backs. Killer peacefully laid atop Dusk, still managing to sleep through that all. Hopefully he wasn't in a coma.

Dusk and Sans looked at each other, unsure if they were both already dead or if what they saw was all real.

Certainly one hell of a deus ex machina, but with all the shit they’ve gone through they might as well accept it with open arms.

It was Blue that stood over them, looking utterly concerned. “oh my GOD, you three almost died! well, you would’ve been under fresh’s control for whoever knows how long and then you would collapse from exhaustion and then die, but still,” he rambled. He put a hand on his face. “If my plan didn't work…well! Glad it did! Even if it wasn't the one I initially had,” he sighed in relief. “I’m SO sorry you guys went through that! I told Cross not to do it but, ARGH, no one listens to me!” He stomped his foot, it reminded them of Papyrus.

Another portal appeared next to him and two skeletons walked out. One was dressed like they just walked out of an anime convention and the other was clearly a skeleton from Fresh’s party.

“Thank you so much Dream,” Blue said.

Dream?

The two looked closely at him. There was a star made out of magic floating by his forehead. It reminded them of the crescent moon that rested near Nightmare's forehead. He was the one that created the portals similar to him too.

“you're his brother,” Sans said.

“Hm? Brother? I don’t…”

“They already know he's your brother, Dream,” Blue interrupted.

Dream darted his eyelights away guiltily. “I promise you, I’m not like him at all. I’m so sorry he held you all captive for a year! It must've been horrible.”

Dusk and Sans didn't really care about the needless pity. Both of them had one thing on their mind and it was punching the living daylights out of Cross.

“Right…” Blue said awkwardly. “Anyway, Dream, please tend to Epic, I’ll take these guys from here.”

Dream nodded and teleported himself and the other skeleton, who was apparently Epic, off to someplace else.

Blue stared down at the three who hadn't budged at all. “So, do you guys need help getting up, or.”

“i’m staying down here, thanks,” Sans said.

“Is Killer knocked out, or sleeping?”

“he's been out cold ever since Dusk ripped off the flower in his socket.”

Blue smacked the side of his skull, looking distraught. He looked around the place—they just realized they were in someone's living room—and told them to stay there before bolting off to another room.

Sans turned his attention to Killer and Dusk. “are you just gonna have him lay on top of you the whole time?”

Dusk shrugged. Honestly he was kind of comfortable like this. Killer was like a weighted blanket.

Sans finally got up from the floor, stretching his back with a groan. He stumbled over to the couch nearby and flopped onto it. He massaged his face. “god, i don't want to do anything ever again.”

Dusk hummed in agreement.

Blue came back shortly after with a stash of snacks. He dumped them onto the coffee table in front of the couch. “I got some snacks so you guys can replenish your energy. Do any of you know healing magic?”

Dusk nodded.

Blue walked over to him, leaning down to pick up Killer off of him only for Dusk to slap his hand away. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you were stuck,” he said, embarrassed.

Dusk sat up, holding Killer in his arms. He carefully put his hand over his soul and started healing it.

“you're not even going to eat first—Okay, that's fine.” Blue looked away from the poor medical practice. He waited a moment. “Okay, you're not supposed to keep going until he wakes up, you're gonna overload his soul with magic.”

Dusk rolled his eyelights and drew his hand away.

“He should wake up in a few minutes. In the meantime,” he grabbed something off the table and threw it at him, “eat something!”

The packaged snack bumped his head and fell to the floor sadly.

Dusk laid Killer down, having his head rest on his legs so that he could pick up the snack and eat it.

Blue turned to Sans. “You should eat something too.”

Sans glanced at the food on the table, then back at Blue. “why are you helping us?” he asked.

Blue looked disheartened by his suspicion. He fidgeted with his hands. “because i want to. And why wouldn't I? Everyone deserves help!”

“real naive of you to say.”

Blue’s expression hardened. “Fine, maybe it’s more than that. Maybe I want to feel like I’m worth something by helping people out. Maybe I’m sick of people dying when I could’ve done something. Maybe I’m guilty, so I help assholes like you in order to cope! Is that a selfish enough answer for you?”

Sans grabbed something off the table to eat. “sure.”

Blue sighed, crossing his arms. “good.”

They sat in silence as the two ate a bit. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Killer finally woke up.

He rolled off of Dusk. He immediately fired a round of questions, “everything hurts. why’s it so dark. where am i?”

“The lights are on?” Blue said.

“who the hell are you?”

“i think you blinded him, dude,” Sans said.

“what?!” Killer shouted.

“He shouldn’t be permanently blinded, he just needs to eat!” Blue assured. “Carelessly yanking out Fresh’s flower temporarily blinds the victim because it injures the orbit, and any injury to that area causes temporary blindness as our magic prioritizes healing it over being able to see.”

“oh, you’re the nerd that gave us food yesterday.”

“i’m the huh?” Blue mumbled. He shook off the insult and grabbed some packaged crackers off the table to give to Killer. “Anyway, we’re not at the hub right now. You guys are gonna crash at my place, which is here, until I give Cross a talk.”

Killer gnawed on the crackers without removing the wrapper, until Dusk snatched it from him to properly open it and hand it back to him. 

Killer poured the crumbs into his mouth, a good amount of it missed and landed on the floor which Blue decided to ignore.

After blinking a few times, Killer was able to see again. “where is ‘here’?”

“I don’t really have time to explain what this place is but uh, I suggest not going outside because you might end up in a different universe,” Blue said casually. “I shouldn’t be gone for too long, but in case I am, you guys are free to raid the kitchen, watch some tv, etc—Oh yeah! I also have a book containing all my notes on the multiverse if you wanna read it. Since you three are outcodes now it’ll be useful to know about some of the threats and important areas in the multiverse.”

The three of them looked at him like he was speaking a different language.

He coughed into his hand and pulled the book out from his inventory to set it on the coffee table. He awkwardly waved goodbye which got no responses and left the house.

“that guy’s too nice,” Killer remarked. “how hasn’t he died?”

“my guess is dumb luck or he’s hiding something.” Sans sat up on the couch, looking curiously at the book, which was actually just some spiral bound notebook. He picked it up, might as well read it to pass the time.

Killer stood up, stumbling a bit as he waited for the vertigo to pass. “i’m gonna snoop around,” he announced.

“have fun with that.”

While Killer wandered off and Sans read, Dusk went over to the fridge.

Sans flipped through the pages of the notebook, skimming over the titles of various names of people and places. He paused when he saw Nightmare’s name.

“dusk, get over here!”

Dusk walked over with no haste at all. He was holding two glasses, and was currently drinking out of one. He held out the other to Sans.

Sans looked up from the book to see the concoction he was giving him. It was nearly the same as all the past times Dusk made the mistake of playing bartender. Except this time…”did you add crushed chips? that thing has at least four different textures in it now.”

Dusk shrugged.

Killer walked back in the room, looking very dissatisfied. He wasn’t able to find anything interesting or any skeletons in the closet. His sights immediately landed on the drinks. “what the fuck is that?” he chuckled.

“nah, killer this ain’t for you.” Sans took the second drink from Dusk’s hand.

“aw, what?”

“anyway,” he took a sip, “this guy has notes about nightmare.”

Killer walked around the table and sat next to Sans. “woah, that's crazy.” He leaned closer at the book, but quickly switched his target to the drink.

Unfortunately, Sans was quick enough to move the drink away before he could take a sip.

Killer grumbled disappointedly and looked back at the book, actually reading the page this time. “i mean, we already know all of this, i don't see how this is…” he trailed off as he got halfway through the page. “huh. he’s had quite the history.”

“whaddya think being ‘the guardian of negativity’ means?”

“does it matter? we hate him. end of story.”

Sans eyed the line that said Nightmare couldn't feel positive emotions. If that was true, that explained a lot of things, but did that change anything? Not really. “yeah, i guess it doesn't.”

Once he was back at the hub, Blue hunted down Cross. His angry speech died on his metaphorical tongue the second he saw him and Epic having a reunion. He stopped in his tracks and watched them from a distance.

Ink appeared by his side, also watching the two. “Ah, a happy ending.” “It was completely unnecessary for any of this to happen and you know it,” Blue said sternly.

Ink pouted. “Aw, are you mad at me? It wasn’t my idea to send those three to their deaths.”

Blue scowled at him. “But it’s your fault Fresh kidnapped Epic in the first place.” Ink looked dumbfounded and then guilty, like a dog that was caught doing something it shouldn’t. “You’re getting too good at reading me…” he sighed. “How long did you know?”

“The second we found out it was Fresh that took Epic I immediately knew it was you,” Blue deadpanned. There were only a few people who could’ve let Fresh into the place, and only one person who would’ve. Besides, ever since Cross rescued Epic from his scripted death, Ink would glare at him like he personally wronged him.

“Aw,” Ink gave him a hug, “and you didn’t tell anyone?” He didn’t just not tell anyone he also covered for him. There was a reason Cross didn’t know he did it. “There wasn’t any point to.” “And you wouldn’t rat out your best friend!”

Blue flicked his cheek bone. “Sure,” he said sarcastically. He ended the hug with Ink with a gentle shove. “Those three are probably gonna try to kill Cross though. I’m making that your responsibility.”

Ink giggled at the idea of the three hunting down Cross. “Eh, he can handle that on his own.”

[exy-conspiracies]

Why is no one talking about the fact that the foxes singlehandedly dismantled the ravens?? Like, let's be real here, they will never be as strong anymore. But first there was Minyard, who turned down the ravens, and went to the foxes. Then we obviously have Day, who went to the foxes. And now there is all this talk that Moreau left because of Walker, who, you'll never guess, is a fox???

And on top of that, hear me out, Josten/Wesninki had Moriamas 4. Both Day and Moreau grew up with Moriama, to some degree. We now know that Josten is from Maryland which, not too far from the ravens nest!

So, I think! Go with me here, I think Westen maybe tried out with the ravens as a kid! And that's why Day recruited such a rookie with no experience. Because he and Westen had already played togheter or smt!

But! Circling back to my first point, why do the foxes seemingly steal all the ravens (Westen included)

Publicity! Hear me out okay, Day and Moriama grew up together, we all know they are crazy rich because of who they are, always together etc. I think that the whole fallout between Day and Moriama was planned, so both of them could make crazy bank on this. We are all still talking about it aren't we! Even people who aren't into exy know who Day and Moriama are now!

But, why would Day do that? Why would he transfer? Wouldn't that make long term loss? Such a risk? And that's why they took so many raven players away! To even out the teams, so they could have this really big show! Because there is no way in Hell the foxes suddenly got so much better so quickly.

On top of that, I think David Wymack and Tetsuji Moriama work together somehow, they must've met via Kayleigh Day. So Tetsuji Moriama buys out the foxes, in secret, David Wymack earns much more money than he would from a coaching job for a shitty team, and Tetsuji Moriama can shuffle the players around as much as he wants, to make such a spectacle in such a match, and profit off off both teams!

.

[elysiaheaven]

𝗕𝗮𝗯𝘆𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴..?-𝟮𝟭-(The Fox's Wedding)

Words:2676

The conversation continued, a lively argument broke out between Yanqing and Yunli.

"First, you didn't kick my butt!" Yanqing declared, his voice filled with youthful defiance. "Second, you'll never kick my butt! Third, how about we settle this right now and see who kicks whose butt?"

Yunli grinned, accepting the challenge with gusto. "Yeah, I'm up for that! And if I kick your butt, you'll drop out of the Wardance. Deal?"

March 7th, looking puzzled, interjected, "Why are you two arguing again? I thought things had been improving between you lately..."

Jiaoqiu, observing the commotion with mild interest, explained, "There was talk that the leading disciples of the Luofu and Zhuming generals were supposed to face off in the Wardance, but for some reason, they suddenly teamed up to train an apprentice of their own. Turns out the rumors are true."

"Tomorrow is the big day of the Wardance," Jiaoqiu continued, his tone taking on a slightly more serious edge. "Shouldn't you two be focusing on honing your skills instead of teaching swordplay here?"

Yunli looked at Jiaoqiu, recognition dawning in her eyes. "Ah, you're... um, you're... That's right! You're the pink-haired fox from the Yaoqing!"

March 7th chuckled, adding, "This is Mr. Jiaoqiu."

"Pink-haired fox..." Jiaoqiu mused, a faint smile playing on his lips. "What are you laughing at? You've got pink hair, too!"

"Well, this is Mr. Jiaoqiu, the healer working for the General of the Xianzhou Yaoqing," March 7th clarified.

Yunli, catching on, asked, "So, you're the participant attending the Wardance on behalf of the Yaoqing, and you were trying to sneak a peek at our training?"

Jiaoqiu shook his head with a light-hearted chuckle. "Sorry for the misunderstanding. I don't know anything about martial arts. I'm just here on the general's orders to take care of some official business. I didn't mean to interrupt your training. I'll be on my way."

Yunli raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "If you know nothing about martial arts, why were you smirking earlier?"

Jiaoqiu shrugged, his smile widening. "Well, my curiosity got the better of me, I suppose. When I heard Miss March's pondering about what to learn, I couldn't help but wander over."

From behind you, you offered a soft, almost ethereal laugh. "It's true, isn't it? Sometimes even the sweetest of us can get caught up in the chaos. But don't worry, you two are doing great."

Jiaoqiu, now focused on the conversation, continued, "From my professional experience, cleavers, slicers, chopping knives, and carving knives are all just tools, kind of like frying, sautéing, boiling, and deep-frying in cooking. They're just ways for people to show off their skills. How you use them really depends on the ingredients you're working with."

Yunli's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Are you saying our swordplay is like cooking?"

Jiaoqiu nodded, his tone more animated. "Exactly! It's like your sword teaching methods. If you align your 'ingredient' — in other words, your apprentice's natural tendencies — with the right 'cooking method' — that is, the teaching method that best suits her — she'll make double the progress in half the time!"

You took the opportunity to interject with a kind smile. "Just remember, it's not just about technique. It's about how you nurture and support each other."

Jiaoqiu added, "For example, Golden Eggplant tastes best when fried, Cloud Peppers when stir-fried, and Yellow Boulder Beef when simmered. It's all about discovering the nature of the ingredients... uh, I mean, apprentice."

March 7th, already feeling a pang of hunger, laughed. "All this talk about food is making me hungry."

Yunli, confused, asked, "Aren't you a healer? Why are you talking about food?"

Jiaoqiu shrugged. "Well, it's just a metaphor. The medicinal school I follow on the Xianzhou Yaoqing is called the Ranzhi School, which specializes in food therapy, so it's only natural that I know a thing or two about cooking."

Yunli raised an eyebrow. "So... you're the general's cook?"

Jiaoqiu chuckled. "I'm a healer! But anyway, a cook who isn't interested in health doesn't make for a good advisor. Fine, call me a cook if you want."

The conversation shifted, you approached Yunli and Yanqing with a warm, genuine smile. "I hope you both find your way and enjoy the Wardance. Remember, it's not just about the fight, but about the camaraderie and the connections you make along the way."

Jiaoqiu, however, seemed to get more serious. "Picture this: Two individuals, the one standing is full of malice, the other lying down is honorable and righteous. How can the one who's lying down label the one standing as 'sinister?' In the throes of combat, where life and death hinge on a singular moment, every idea fades into nothingness. The only thing that matters is 'staying alive.' Surviving the battlefield reshapes all notions of worth. Be it integrity or treachery, in my eyes, their significance is negligible."

Yanqing, feeling the weight of Jiaoqiu's words, responded, "Perhaps you've underestimated Yunli and me, Mr. Jiaoqiu. We may be young, but we've seen our fair share of war."

Jiaoqiu acknowledged their point with a nod. "Well, well, then you should know that the Wardance is nothing more than a contest. So, why are you so focused on it?"

Yanqing explained, "When I was appointed as the ringmaster for the Wardance, I asked the general: 'We Cloud Knights are supposed to charge into the fray and slay enemies. Why do we have to swing swords in a ring just to please an audience?' And this is how the general replied: 'To unsheathe your sword in a ring is no different than on the battlefield, as your sword reveals the might of all Cloud Knights.'"

Yanqing's voice held a note of pride. "The Wardance is the perfect chance to showcase martial virtue and forge alliances from all over the cosmos. When we unsheathe the sword without drawing blood, we not only display our might but also the martial virtue of the Cloud Knights."

Jiaoqiu, now intrigued, said, "That's quite an insightful statement, Yanqing. Well, my apologies for being so short-sighted. I've been on the Luofu for quite some time, but I haven't had the chance to see the ceremony venue for myself yet. Hearing you speak so highly of it has piqued my curiosity. Would you mind showing me around?"

Yanqing's eyes lit up. "You want to see the Skysplitter ship where the Wardance will be held? Let's go! I bet Yunli and Miss March haven't seen it either, right? Well then, I'll give you all a tour."

Jiaoqiu: "Surviving the battlefield reshapes all notions of worth. Be it integrity or treachery, in my eyes, their significance is negligible."

Yunli, curious, looked at Jiaoqiu with a hint of concern but decided to keep her thoughts to herself. She turned to you, her cat-like form now back to its original state after a brief transformation, and asked, "Can you believe it? March 7th has actually become a pretty decent swordmaster in such a short time. Now I understand why grandpa always had a grin on his face while training me."

You responded with a soft chuckle, "It's amazing what a bit of dedication and the right guidance can achieve. March 7th certainly has talent, and it seems like her training has paid off."

Yanqing, eager to move on, looked at the group and said, "Let's go. I'll give you a tour of the Skysplitter."

With a quick teleport, the group arrived at Stargazer Navalia.

Jiaoqiu, taking in the surroundings, remarked, "Looks like a lot of other visitors have also come to catch a glimpse of the Skysplitter."

Yanqing noticed Jiaoqiu's contemplative expression and asked, "What's up, Mr. Jiaoqiu?"

Jiaoqiu hesitated before replying, "No... it's nothing."

Yanqing pointed towards the airship in the distance. "Do you see that airship? That's the Skysplitter, the venue for the Wardance ceremony."

You glanced at the airship with a thoughtful expression and added, "It doesn't look all that impressive from this distance, but I'm sure it's something special up close."

Jiaoqiu's eyes followed the direction Yanqing pointed, and he nodded slightly. "Indeed. It may not seem like much now, but appearances can be deceiving."

Yanqing smiled, ready to lead the way. "Come on, let's get closer and see what all the fuss is about. You'll get a better view soon enough."

Jiaoqiu observed Yanqing with a thoughtful expression and remarked, "Oh, Yanqing, so young, yet so grown-up... By the way, how old are you exactly?"

Yanqing, not missing a beat, replied, "Age doesn't really matter. All swordmasters will understand how I feel."

Jiaoqiu nodded, taking in Yanqing's response. "Hmm... I get it. Looks like all the kids on the Luofu live tough lives. So, how about you, Miss Yunli?"

Yunli, slightly taken aback, responded with a touch of humor, "It's not polite to ask a girl her age, no matter which Xianzhou ship you're on."

You, who had been quietly observing the conversation, interjected softly, "Sometimes the journey is more important than the number of years, wouldn't you agree?"

Jiaoqiu, slightly amused, said, "I'm not asking your age! I'm asking if you have a dream like Yanqing has?"

Yunli, with a hint of playfulness, retorted, "You don't talk like a cook; you sound more like a TV host or something."

Jiaoqiu, slightly exasperated, clarified, "...Need I repeat myself again? I'm a healer."

Yunli sighed and shared her thoughts. "Well, I... I don't have a dream like Yanqing does. The only reason I'm participating in the Ringmaster's Challenge is because I made a promise to my grandfather that I'd win the precious sword he's contributed to the Wardance."

Yanqing smirked, "Sounds like that mind of yours is just filled with swords."

Yunli, with a serious tone, continued, "My... father... was a craftsman on the Xianzhou Zhuming. Because of his foolishness, many innocent people fell victim to the cursed swords he forged."

You, sensing Yunli's pain, reached out with a comforting presence. "It sounds like you've been through a lot, Yunli. Your resolve to protect others from harm is admirable."

Yunli looked at you with a soft smile. "Thank you. Since I was a kid, it's been clear to me that not everyone deserves to have a weapon in their hands. Giving them a sword is no different than being cruel to the innocent."

Jiaoqiu nodded thoughtfully. "So, whenever I come across someone unworthy of a sword, I can't help but want to take it away from them. Given that Yanqing is the Wardance ringmaster, I'm stepping up to challenge him, to ensure the precious sword doesn't fall into the hands of an unworthy master."

Yanqing, a bit defensive, asked, "Hey! What do you mean by 'an unworthy master'?"

Jiaoqiu glanced at you and then back at Yanqing. "I see. It's not easy for kids on the Zhuming either. Well, it's better to have a reason for wielding a sword than to be lost and confused. I've saved countless Cloud Knights in my life, and there are plenty of exceptional warriors just like the two... of you..."

Yanqing noticed Jiaoqiu's sudden shift in demeanor and asked, "What happened, Mr. Jiaoqiu?"

Jiaoqiu shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "...Oh, nothing. I was just reminded of some old friends and old tales."

Turning his attention back to Yanqing and Yunli, Jiaoqiu continued, "Judging from my professional perspective as a healer, both of you possess remarkable vitality; your energies flow like raging fires and mighty gales. The upcoming fight... will definitely be impressive."

You smiled gently, adding, "I'm sure both of you will give an incredible performance. I look forward to seeing it."

Jiaoqiu glanced around at the Skysplitter and Stargazer Navalia. "Well, we've seen the Skysplitter and toured the Stargazer Navalia. I guess it's time to say goodbye for now."

March 7th, joining the conversation, said with a touch of disappointment, "What, you're leaving already? But you haven't asked me about my dreams! I've been working hard too, you know!"

Jiaoqiu, with a chuckle, replied, "It's getting late, Miss March. Unlike you lot, I'm a grown-up bound by responsibilities and duties. The tasks entrusted to me by the general won't complete themselves."

Jiaoqiu turned to Yanqing with a curious look. "By the way, Yanqing, is it normal to have so many people wandering around in an automated area like the Stargazer Navalia?"

Yanqing, with a knowing smile, answered, "...Actually, this is a restricted area, but since you're all guests, I made an exception so you could take a look around."

Jiaoqiu nodded, understanding. "I see. Well, I'll take my leave. I wish you both the best of luck in the ring tomorrow."

Jiaoqiu prepared to leave, you stood there, bowing with a quiet grace, your eyes betraying an emptiness that seemed to stretch endlessly. Each step you took felt heavier, like the weight of countless regrets was pulling you further into the abyss of despair. The world around you seemed to blur, the bustling Skysplitter and Stargazer Navalia fading into a distant haze.

You found yourself questioning, once again, why you should even continue. The internal struggle was consuming, gnawing at the edges of your sanity with every unanswered query. You walked alongside Jiaoqiu, your movements slow and deliberate, but the darkness within was encroaching, turning each step into a battle against overwhelming sorrow.

Suddenly, you felt a gentle touch on your arm. Startled, you looked up to see Jiaoqiu's hand resting there. His eyes, usually so calculating and reserved, were now filled with a deep, unexpected concern. For a moment, the world seemed to pause as you met his gaze, the anguish and helplessness reflected in your own.

In that brief silence, the walls you had so carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble. You felt a wave of vulnerability crashing over you. It was as if Jiaoqiu's touch had opened a floodgate of emotions that you had kept tightly controlled. Without thinking, you found yourself speaking, your voice trembling with the weight of your sorrow.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry for everything... for ruining your life. I never meant for any of this to happen. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused."

The scene shifts to Jing Yuan in his private quarters, the flickering light of the lantern casting shadows on the walls. He sits at his desk, staring at a letter that has just been delivered. His usually composed demeanor is shattered as he reads, his hands trembling slightly. The contents of the letter unravel the painful truth he had been missing, connecting the dots between recent events and the anguish you have endured.

A single tear escapes his eye as he clenches his jaw, trying to hold back the wave of emotion. The realization hits him hard—he now understands the gravity of what you've been through and the mistakes that led to it. His heart aches with regret as he realizes how much he has misjudged the situation. Without uttering a word, he rises from his chair, determination and sorrow etched across his face. He knows he must see you again to offer his heartfelt apology.

Cut to the ancient seaside shore, where Feixiao stands with an air of quiet anticipation. Her eyes are sharp, but there's a subtle softness in her gaze as she awaits her guests. The scene shifts as Jing Yuan approaches, looking troubled but resolute.

Feixiao "I am glad to finally meet you in person. Guests from the Luofu, I presume?"

Jing Yuan"You're here about the Ambrosial Arbor's resurrection, no?"

Feixiao "Straight to the point. I like it."

Jing Yuan, barely able to mask his distress, takes a deep breath and asks: "One of the messengers... was his name Jiaoqiu? Did he marry the woman named Y/n? No need to worry, I know of her past. and why he might have married her.."

Feixiao's eyes widen with realization. She nods solemnly, understanding now that the pieces of the puzzle are falling into place. Her expression hardens slightly as she contemplates the gravity of the situation.

Feixiao "Yes, Jiaoqiu. He... accidentally married her to save Moze from dying."

Jing Yuan's face reflects a profound sadness as he absorbs this new information. He pulls out a letter from his coat and hands it to Feixiao. It's a letter that provides a detailed account of what ahppened

Jing Yuan: "We understood the history of her past wrong...then, She had every right to be rude towards me."

Feixiao looks down at the letter..

What!? Is Jiaoqiu planning ?!

Is that why..you acted so....mean..? To....Make feel a little better to kill you..?

Your soul has the power to heal...... 

He must have known about it...You also seemed to be aware...

yet

What is.....? Why are you so..? Kind...?

[muppetears-stuff]

It's so amazing to realize just how broken every clique is. They're divided, even within each other. Because they all want something different, they're forced into their roles because they were born into it, like the preps, or their friends are that way, so they have to be too. It is not fun being the odd one out, especially in bullworth. There's so much happening with the fear of being ostracized in this game that shines so fucking well but it's so so subtle,,,,

One of the prime examples I CAN think about is the preps

Justin especially, I talk about him alot but it's obvious he doesn't wanna be a prep. He has many other interests and is genuinely a good student, sure his tastes are expensive and he's just as stuck up as the other preps but we can't be for sure for sure that he isn't faking it like the rest??? He seems to be at his happiest discussing Greek culture and compliments Jimmy, sincerely, on his features being "pleasantly Grecian."

He loves sports and comments on wanting to ally with the jocks and that he doesn't understand why Derby opposes the idea. He doesn't fundamentally understand why everyone's so divided. Why can't they enjoy themselves?? Sure, they're slummish and dumb but they're real, and they love doing what they do as much as anyone else, and Justin wants a taste of how that feels. Freedom.

I love love love knowing that clique members wanna be a part of different cliques or want to he friends with someone from a different clique or want to date someone from a different clique and they aren't allowed to because of how that would ruin their reputation, their cliques and the person/people they want to be with.

Jimmy was a godsend, and I think a lot more students should have helped him. Like one from each clique that had the desire of wanting to befriend other people from different cliques, they could be little spies. But it also shows how devoted they are to their clique members cause they've been through this too much and can't risk it if it doesn't work, and it almost doesn't!! I LOVE THIS GAME!!!@

[gurugirl]

Hi, idk really why I want to ask you this but sometimes I just feel so insecure about the fact I’m still a virgin at 23. I haven’t even kissed someone. I’ve always been so insecure about my looks that I’ve never wanted to get intimate with someone, and i know I’m not ugly but I just feel like now the fact I have never had anything makes me feel repulsive. I’ve been on dates but I’ve just never felt that interested in them? I like my alone time too and I feel like I can’t be bothered trying to force a relationship when I want to work on myself. I’m going travelling in 6 months for a year and I doubt I’ll meet someone when I’m travelling so I’ll be 25 almost when I come back and still a virgin. Is that bad? I know I should take things at my pace but I just feel like there must be something wrong with me if I don’t really want to with anyone I’ve met who’s been into me? What should I do?

I got wordy here so a read more was necessary ↓

Hi hon. I say this anytime someone asks me about having not met some milestone yet - but you still being a virgin at 23 really doesn't define you at all and it's not weird. I bet I could post a poll right now and ask who's still a virgin past the age of 23 and you'd see a lot more virgins than not. In fact, I just had a recent anon who is also 23 and a virgin (pretty sure I posted this ask yesterday - check the #ask tag on my blog if you'd like) so you're not alone. Not even close.

Milestones, especially something like when you should lose your virginity, should all be done away with. There's no timeline for something like that. And I'm sure you've heard it before but you definitely want to enjoy your first time having sex and do it with someone you trust and not force yourself to get it over with. While I think virginity is mostly just a social construct, it can be a big deal to us as individuals.

You aren't repulsive, there's nothing wrong with you, and you get to decide when and with whom you do have sex with. No one but you. I actually think you sound like you have a good head on your shoulders. You've gone on dates and have made the mature decision that you weren't that into the people you dated, you know you're someone who enjoys your alone time (me too hon), you already know better than to force a relationship (some people don't get this concept bc they're scared to be alone and by the time they realize what they've done it's too late), and you're about to go on a year-long travel which is huge and there would be so many people your age terrified to travel for a year. You're brave, adventurous, and smart.

I think you're way more amazing than you realize, just from this ask I can pick up how mature and emotionally intelligent you are. Don't compromise. You're doing absolutely amazing. And also don't discount yourself that you're not going to perhaps meet someone on your travels. Who knows what will happen? Maybe you'll still be a virgin after the year is up - but that's perfectly okay too. Be open to what could happen and keep doing what you're doing.

Also, it's going to benefit you to not talk badly about yourself. Start telling yourself how impressive and how unique you are. Do away with saying such negative things. Seriously. No more of that that! You're going to be just fine. Remember that you're still young, you're smart, and you're about to do something that most people in this world cannot say they've ever done, nor would they be brave enough to (enjoy wherever your travels take you!).

xoxo

[dixidin]

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT DAN SAYING "fuck ai!" WHAT????

[vexedmilky]

"We need more male SA rep!!!"

Y'all couldn't fucking handle them

[feroluce]

“-and that's why I ain't allowed in Pier Point no more!” Boothill throws his head back and cackles, somehow completely comfortable on the bare floor of the archives. He's the very picture of ease, his arms behind his head, his legs bent and crossed.

Dan Heng barely looks up from his notebook, not much surprises him anymore after the first few tales of lawless exploits. “So they really have that many laws and restrictions there.” 

“And prob’ly a few more now that I've been through there! Heck, ya think they named any after me? I'm hopin’ so.” There's so much smug cockiness seeping through his voice Dan Heng could bottle it.

Silence settles in, stretches out. Dan Heng doodles pensive circles in the corner of his page.

He shouldn't ask. It's a private matter. It's none of his business. He of all people should know-

Something pokes his shoe, and when he looks up, Boothill has stretched one arm up to tap metallic fingertips against his foot. “Ain't like ya to hesitate.” With his head tipped back on the tiles and gazing at him upside down, Boothill's hair is out of his face and spooling out all over the floor, offering a rare view of his right side. His right eye is sealed over with a pitch-black patch, stark against his skin. Dan Heng wonders what he looks like behind it. “C'mon, then, out with it. Spill the beans, brother, just say it.”

“What does ‘Boothill’ mean?”

The man blinks at him, the crosshair in his cybernetic left eye flickering. Dan Heng shifts, smooths out his long coat. “I tried to look it up once. It's not in any database as a name...other than your wanted posters.” There's a thread beginning to fray near the hem, he should sew it up. “I couldn't find it anywhere.” 

He nearly takes it back, but- “Heh, ya that curious about me, darlin’?”

Dan Heng quickly levels his face into the most impassive, nonplussed expression he can muster, but Boothill has already turned away, head pillowed on his arms and face once again turned to the ceiling.

“But nah, ya wouldn't. Hah, like they'd allow any record of the language, fudgeheads.” One arm sweeps around blindly until it finds the edge of Boothill's hat, sets it back where it belongs on his head. Dan Heng shuffles around, scoots a little closer, but the brim is pulled too low to see his eyes anymore.

“It's ‘cause it's not a name. It's a noun.” All that's visible of his face is a sharp grin, pulled too tight at the edges.

“It's my people's word for a grave.”

Dan Heng's pencil stops.

“It's the kinda grave fer someone who died with their boots on. If ya catch my drift there.” Boothill's foot starts to bounce. “There was a war, and it got reeeeeal intense, yup. Folks started droppin’ like flies, ‘n’ there was bodies faster'n what we could bury ‘em.” A cooling fan kicks on somewhere. Dan Heng is pretty sure it's not any of the Express equipment.

“We lost some real good people there, real good. Mighty shame.” His hidden Vidyadhara ears detect a quiet metallic click, a whir, pressurized gas. Boothill's next words waft steam from his angry circuits into the air. “When I left, I decided to leave my name there, too. Didn't feel right otherwise. The life I lead now is a whole ‘nother existence.” And then Boothill turns his head, raises his hat, and Dan Heng suddenly feels pinned dead center, caught in that crosshair.

“Ya know what I mean, don'tcha?”

Dan Heng swallows.

Does Boothill know? Who he is and who came before him? There had been that moment in the Penacony Grand Theater, after he activated the Jade Abacus… Dan Heng had tried to shoo him out, keep him from seeing anything, but Boothill has the astounding ability to turn up exactly wherever people are trying to keep him away from.

If he did see, does he actually understand it? Does he know what a High Elder is? Does he know about the sedition of Imbibitor Lunae, the transmutation arcanum, everything Dan Feng had done and Dan Heng was punished for?

He doesn't want to explain it all. Not now. Possibly not ever, truth be told.

And it's not the same as Boothill leaving behind his old identity when whatever event happened that caused him to leave home. Not really. But…

But so far, Boothill has slid so easily into Dan Heng’s routine. His presence never feels like an intrusion. He's already figured out what he can push and when to back down. And even Dan Heng finds himself able to roll with whatever punches Boothill throws with baffling ease. They share too much in their methods and ideologies, and sometimes Dan Heng knows what Boothill will do seemingly before even Boothill himself knows.

“...Tell me about Talia and the Nailscrap Town.” Boothill must know he's avoiding the topic. He must. But the man just throws his head back and cackles, melting easily back into what they had been doing before, as he speaks fondly of a planet that Dan Heng has never visited.

Not today. But.

Dan Heng inches just a little closer, just enough to nudge his foot against a metal leg. Boothill doesn't pull away.

Maybe someday.

[psychologeek]

do you really think you're the victim in this situation? children are being bombed every day, do you think they're less human than you?

Children are bombed every day? Wow. Shocking. I had no idea.

(One of my first memories is the sound of explosion, and the way my home shook. I was seven.)

I don't think others are, as you put it, "less human" then me. But apparently YOU seem to think that way.

See, all I do is writing about *my* experiences, and things that actually have a matter to my own life. So yes, I'm self-centric.

You, on the other hand?

Completely unrelated to the situation. Yet, all you have to do is to complain about.... what exactly? That I share my fears, and pain, and struggles? That I have PTSD? That I'm alive?

But again, I shouldn't be surprised. If "not talking" about something is bc you think they aren't human.

Well.

(Your attempt to silence me says it all.)

~

(ID1: sky with smoke-dots. Those dots are missiles. I took this photo from my home.)

(ID2: a newborn on window pane. Screenshot from news.)

This is 10 days old Kay. His parents hid with him as their house was burnt and their friends and family were murdered. When the shooting got quiet, they opened the door of the smoke-filled room and placed him on the window pane to let him breathe. Then, when the shooting got back to the area, they closed the door and got back to pretend to be dead.

(When I was 17, I hugged my 4 yo sister under my grandma's staircase, as we waited for the explosion.)

א.ט. *אזעקה מוקלטת*

This is me and some of my neighbours on a usual day.

Now, this is pretty old - my area, personally, wasn't bombed in a while.

The area I grew up in, where some of my family still lives, can't say the same.

But hi, it's all depending on the context, as was said.

Not like I'm human or anything.