There's a lot here to dissect. And right now he's not sure how.
Oh don't worry, I never really cared about people to begin with. Remember the part where I spent my whole life with people acting like I'm an idiot or an underdeveloped CHILD. The only people I ever cared about were my family, my boyfriend and the friends he introduced me to.
So like. It's not hard for me to not give a shit about random people I've never met. It's really not. I know for a fact that I don't give a shit when they die now.
It's not like causing a car accident didn't have collateral damage. But he'd been so caught up in trying to kill Nick's Fetch that he hadn't cared. He takes the joint back from Steven then and takes another puff.
I don't care if people lie. Everyone's an asshole anyway so why should I care what they say?
And as he exhales, blowing the remnants of smoke back out, he mutters something quietly under his breath, quiet enough that Steven might not catch the words - especially since it's not in English.
He doesn't. He's too busy reading over Tyler's text.
Steven Durante smiles.
It matters to me if they're all liars too but admittedly that's only because it means that I've been spending my entire life trying to pretend to be something that doesn't exist in nature and doesn't come naturally to me
I almost said for nothing but I suppose the polite fictions of society are reason enough I guess but at least I wouldn't have felt vaguely bad I had to lie to do it
He plucks the joint from Tyler's fingers and takes another pull from it.
But honestly I'm sure you don't care about my damage and I mostly care about yours as a way to gauge who I should be with you anyway
Tyler takes his gear, and the joint back from Steven, so he can lean back on the couch and read the next message. And holds the roll-up between his lips while he types with both hands. It's worth noting that his typing speed had slowed significantly since he started smoking.
I only care about yours in how you keep trying to make it my problem. With all the acting like I'm your sister or some shit. I don't have a very high capacity to give a shit about people anymore when I can just kill them without them ever realising it was me. It's a fucking
He pauses mid text with a light frown, passes the joint back to Steven and glances away so he can toy vaguely with his hands, trying to find the right word in his sign. And when that fails, he mutters under his breath again; that seems to do the trick, as he gives a slight nod at that.
tragedy. Like we're SUPPOSED to care about people and now I just can't. At all. I hate it.
If it makes you feel any better I don't think I'm going to be able to mistake you for Charley very much longer even when stoned to the gills given everything we've learned through this
Also I would say from long experience that with a lot of sustained effort you CAN still trick yourself into caring about people or at least faking it until you make it but it's fucking exhausting and stressful and honestly it is FINE if you never care about people again
Like seriously feel free to not care about people around me because it's a fucking relief to not have to care either
And he just looks at Tyler, with the same studied, thoughtful expression as before, and takes a long pull on the joint.
He looks faintly annoyed in the face of Steven's scrutiny. Or rather, he's giving his phone an annoyed look, and hasn't actually noticed Steven staring.
I don't WANT to not care about people. Like at least I had people I used to care about before, but now I can't even pretend to like my family. He scowls as he types. Especially since they took that fucking fake in and let it be happy there while I was suffering in hell. It got to have a boyfriend and a meaningful existence, while I spent every goddamn hour I can remember writing stories to make mine fuck his best friend and murder my ex in the most brutal ways I can fucking think of.
Yeah okay shit I didn't realize when you said you can't care about anyone you literally mean ANYONE now no exceptions
I don't know if I even HAVE any good advice for THAT given my OWN innate apathy has always had one or two exceptions
Like I'm not even sure if faking it until you make it will work in this case though you can certainly TRY to just don't be too disappointed if it doesn't work
Also shit you win the prize for worst Durance all I had was darkness and isolation and El Pecador making me into the predator I'd promised myself I'd never become except I guess I would have inevitably but at least it would have been on my OWN terms and
RIGHT sorry you don't care I am going to do my best now NOT to keep accidentally reminding you about how much you don't care by giving you things not to care about it's the least I can do as a common fucking courtesy to you
That and look for things for us to do where our respective similar deficiencies will be assets which as common fucking criminals in the goddamn Pokemon mafia shouldn't be all that hard
Tyler just mutters something disparaging, loud enough this time that Steven will definitely be able to catch it; or at least, the sardonic tone. The language isn't anything on Earth - but it's still horribly familiar.
I was never like you before my Durance, I actually did genuinely care about people. Lots of them. I had so many little siblings I had to look after, I fucking loved them. I had a huge extended family, I had a boyfriend and friends that I LIKED. I've been out of the hedge for four months, I've killed two people and I thought
He pauses there (hits send, by accident), and leans over to take the joint back again so he can do a quick hit before he continues.
I don't know, I thought that maybe getting rid of them would get me something back that I lost. All it did was make me realise that I didn't CARE about anyone who showed up at that fucking funeral. And when they saw my dead Fetch, I didn't care about them screaming about it. I was only worried about not getting caught.
Steven thinks about just-- not being able to care about Charley anymore. Or his parents or the rest of his extended family. His handful of actual friends from Before. He shivers. It's. Fuck. It's awful. He needs another hit.
He hates how familiar Tyler's words are.
He takes the joint back from Tyler.
I mean I'm not a COMPLETE sociopath or anything I DO care about my family and I can love people or at least I think I can but I have to get hella fucking invested in someone before I start to give a real shit at all about them so I spent my entire goddamn life before my Durance doing everything I could to make sure I would make those investments as many as I can out of sheer stubborn principle to maximize the number of people who'd be safe from me if I cracked
Because without putting in that goddamn investment everyone is nothing to me even people I've known for years hell most of the people I've fucked have been nothing to me just another warm body who wants what I want for an hour and when they're gone they're still just nothing
But god all that investment shit is exhausting and I think whatever I lost in El Pecador's basement is whatever DROVE me to fight back so hard because I hate to say it but I don't see the point to it anymore when once upon a time it was the most important goddamn thing just to fight back for the sake of fighting back and all those principles I had set for myself based on what people I knew with working morals believed don't really mean anything anymore either and I KNOW they did once I do
Fuck it used to bother me so much that I don't see the point to them anymore I just fucking did everything the Winter Court told me because at least someone was telling me what I had to do but it was just inertia you know there wasn't a POINT to going along with them it was just easier than not going along with them
I think maybe the things we lose from our Durances just don't ever come back and that's a fucking depressing thing to think about but the point is I guess if we know they aren't coming back then we just have to accept that
I have to accept that I don't see the point in protecting the world from me or adhering to any second-hand principles I might have had once and you have to accept that you just don't give a shit about people anymore at all
He stares at the message for a while. Not just because it's long and thus a bit difficult to parse while he is definitely now high; he's only focusing on the last three paragraphs.
He just. Hates what they're saying.
You say accepting it like it's easy to just. Reconcile the fact that anyone I ever used to care about means less than nothing to me now. I escaped with one of my friends and I just. I can't bring myself to care that she's freaking out about being replaced. I tried and I TRIED to give her a shoulder to cry on but it never felt REAL.
He leans forward to prop his elbows on his thighs, lifts a hand to run his fingers through his hair, tightening his grip until his entire body tenses, his knuckles are white and his scalp stings like he's trying to punish himself for not caring. He takes the blunt back and it's looking very sorry as he puts it between his lips for another puff, and holds the smoke in there as he types again.
Why do you think I went after my boyfriend's Fetch to begin with. I thought maybe if I found It I'd FEEL something for Him again, and I got angry but it was wrong, it wasn't angry that I missed him, it was angry that It got to be happy and *I* didn't. So I thought maybe if MY Fetch feels something I might too. You know? So I made It walk into oncoming traffic and - Tyler's shoulders hitch slightly, and a faint noise escapes him - that might be recognisable as a sardonic little snigger - the guy that hit It was going so fast he swerved and T-boned a street light. I was there to watch the whole thing to make sure it went off without a hitch and I just didn't CARE. Not that I killed some random innocent person, or that I killed someone who looks just like my boyfriend, there was just.
Nothing.
So I went to the funeral and I could FEEL all of my family's emotions, everyone was so fucking sad and angry and they all cared SO MUCH and I DIDN'T. Even when my own Fetch saw me and tried to lay me out and I ran off and jumped over the fucking fence.
He takes out the dead stub of the blunt and flicks it onto the table, breathing out slowly.
My Fetch wasn't as fucking graceful as me. I made sure of it. It was like some tacky Christian symbolism, seeing my own fucking corpse impaled on a goddamn church fence. And like. I SAW my parents in the funeral. They looked like Nick dying almost broke them. I wonder what seeing their son did, because. I know what it's SUPPOSED to feel like, I can imagine that, I could write the most fucking tragic story about someone ELSE feeling that, but I can't fucking FEEL it for myself.
Jesus Christ. I killed my parents' son and I didn't feel a thing.
He lifts one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he should be crying and he isn't. He's a fucking monster.
How the hell do you do it? I never felt so fucking alone since I got out.
And he looks up at Steven with a startlingly clear desperation in his eyes, hoping that Steven has some kind of answer to make him feel better about this shit. About himself, maybe.
Oh God. He wanted Tyler to rely on him, but not like this. Not like he's the grand high guru of how to live with a diminished capacity for humanity. He just. Wanted Tyler to see him as a more experienced criminal, someone to listen to as a Rocket—not as someone who has answers on how to be this way, when Steven really fucking doesn't.
He thinks the high is definitely starting to wear off a little for him.
To start with, you need to remember that happiness doesn't necessarily need to rest upon people. Even if people were what *used* to make you happy.
Happiness can rest upon *things* too. Things and experiences.
Food still tastes good. Baths still feel nice. Owning shit you wanted to have? That feels good too.
That high we get from stealing people? From cutting loose? Build your happiness from *that*, Tyler. It's not what a good person does, but we're not good people. We both know that.
Also, I can tell you for a fucking fact that you don't have to give one single shit about someone to enjoy fucking them. Orgasms are still orgasms. Find someone who isn't looking for anything but an hour of fun and *get laid*.
If I've learned anything in these last six weeks with Jack, it's that it doesn't matter how I *should* be. I am how I am. So are you.
What you are now isn't *unnatural*, it's just rare. That's the other thing I learned. That I wasn't alone in being like this. I knew it theoretically, of course, but it's different than ever meeting other people like me.
You aren't alone either, Tyler, even if that's how you feel. I'm like this to some degree. So are Jack and Dirk. Lydia too, more than any of us but you, probably.
And... now that I know, you really don't have to pretend with me. I'm not going to judge you for it. I'm glad you told me. And I'll do the courtesy of not pretending with you either. Even if we're monsters, we can at least be honest ones. At least among each other.
He reclines back on the couch again as the replies roll in, breathing deeply and working his bottom lip with his teeth. That... it's all good advice, really.
When I was a kid, all I wanted to do was grow up and get married and have my own family. I always knew I was bi so I didn't know whether it was going to be with a guy or a girl but I always, like. I KNEW I'd just find a partner and settle down with them. It's hard having that ripped away.
He purses his lips, and hopes that Steven can pretend not to notice him rubbing his wet eyes with the heel of his palm.
I'll try things out, I guess. It's not like there's much else I can do now. Training my Pokemon doesn't exactly bring me joy but they all seem to enjoy it, so that won't hurt to keep up with properly. Oh, there's why he's never around in the evenings. Thanks.
"Oh Tyler," Steven murmurs under his breath as he reads the text, having previously noted and gone on to ignore Tyler's eye-rubbing. He bites his lip.
People like us can still have relationships and families, he types after a long moment. I don't know how it will work with someone like you, whose capacity for bonds isn't really there anymore, as opposed to someone like me or Jack, where it's just-- much harder for us than it is for normal people, but we can still do that whole... domestic family thing. Settling down with someone. They just-- have to be very understanding of our limitations. But there *are* people who are that understanding, even though they're otherwise normal, with a normal person's capabilities for bonds and caring about people. I *knew* one. If she hadn't been a girl and my sister besides...
Well. The other option is to settle down with someone like us. Which... is sort of what I'm doing with Jack. More or less, anyway. He knows how I am. I know how *he* is. For the most part, we don't expect things the other can't give, like the other's full attention after we end up rambling on for a while. But we still get companionship out of it. Someone around to enjoy those things and experiences with. Someone who'll laugh at things with us, even when they're things we probably shouldn't laugh at. And, you know, lots of sex.
It might be easier for the two of us, because we're working with a diminished capacity and not a virtually non-existent one... but I don't think it would be *impossible* for you, Tyler. Unlikely, if only because people like us are pretty thin on the ground. But not impossible.
The point is that people like us can still enjoy other people, even if we have trouble caring about them and forming emotional bonds. Enjoying people and caring about them are two wholly different things, just like sex and love are. You don't need to give a shit about someone to laugh together or get drunk together or game together.
Just... take my advice and don't ever get in an actual *relationship* with someone who *doesn't* know exactly what you are, okay? I speak from experience here. I did that for, God, a bit over two years and it wasn't worth it. You just end up playing a role for them for as long as the relationship lasts, doing your best to pretend that you really *are* normal for them, but even if they don't know that's what you're doing *specifically*, they will know that you're holding something back. And the moment they even get half an *idea* of what you're really like--
That's when it all explodes. I think 'cold, over-ambitious closet case' was about the nicest thing I got called.
So yeah. Unless you're lucky enough to have someone around who knows exactly what you are and isn't repulsed, just-- stick to fleeting hookups when it comes to sex. But if you ever do get that lucky, Tyler, don't discount it. Just-- maybe don't try for kids if the other person is like us?
Steven still doesn't know what happened with Jack and Angel. Steven only has Armin's vague hints to go by. But he knows that whatever happened, Jack probably did it.
(It was a bad idea for people like them to be the only ones taking care of a kid.)
And-- no problem. I'm actually glad if I can help? I know we're not actually friends the way we let everyone outside think we are because it's easier, but we're stuck together and I want to be able to work with you? And I want you to be happy or something approaching content, because it's easier to work with people who aren't miserable.
And also because he does like Tyler, even though Tyler confuses and frustrates him, but he's pretty fucking sure this is not the time to bring sentiment into things.
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fingersandteeth) wrote2022-02-21 05:11 pm
no subject
Oh don't worry, I never really cared about people to begin with. Remember the part where I spent my whole life with people acting like I'm an idiot or an underdeveloped CHILD. The only people I ever cared about were my family, my boyfriend and the friends he introduced me to.
So like. It's not hard for me to not give a shit about random people I've never met. It's really not. I know for a fact that I don't give a shit when they die now.
It's not like causing a car accident didn't have collateral damage. But he'd been so caught up in trying to kill Nick's Fetch that he hadn't cared. He takes the joint back from Steven then and takes another puff.
I don't care if people lie. Everyone's an asshole anyway so why should I care what they say?
And as he exhales, blowing the remnants of smoke back out, he mutters something quietly under his breath, quiet enough that Steven might not catch the words - especially since it's not in English.
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Steven Durante smiles.
It matters to me if they're all liars too but admittedly that's only because it means that I've been spending my entire life trying to pretend to be something that doesn't exist in nature and doesn't come naturally to me
I almost said for nothing but I suppose the polite fictions of society are reason enough I guess but at least I wouldn't have felt vaguely bad I had to lie to do it
He plucks the joint from Tyler's fingers and takes another pull from it.
But honestly I'm sure you don't care about my damage and I mostly care about yours as a way to gauge who I should be with you anyway
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I only care about yours in how you keep trying to make it my problem. With all the acting like I'm your sister or some shit. I don't have a very high capacity to give a shit about people anymore when I can just kill them without them ever realising it was me. It's a fucking
He pauses mid text with a light frown, passes the joint back to Steven and glances away so he can toy vaguely with his hands, trying to find the right word in his sign. And when that fails, he mutters under his breath again; that seems to do the trick, as he gives a slight nod at that.
tragedy. Like we're SUPPOSED to care about people and now I just can't. At all. I hate it.
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Also I would say from long experience that with a lot of sustained effort you CAN still trick yourself into caring about people or at least faking it until you make it but it's fucking exhausting and stressful and honestly it is FINE if you never care about people again
Like seriously feel free to not care about people around me because it's a fucking relief to not have to care either
And he just looks at Tyler, with the same studied, thoughtful expression as before, and takes a long pull on the joint.
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I don't WANT to not care about people. Like at least I had people I used to care about before, but now I can't even pretend to like my family. He scowls as he types. Especially since they took that fucking fake in and let it be happy there while I was suffering in hell. It got to have a boyfriend and a meaningful existence, while I spent every goddamn hour I can remember writing stories to make mine fuck his best friend and murder my ex in the most brutal ways I can fucking think of.
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Yeah okay shit I didn't realize when you said you can't care about anyone you literally mean ANYONE now no exceptions
I don't know if I even HAVE any good advice for THAT given my OWN innate apathy has always had one or two exceptions
Like I'm not even sure if faking it until you make it will work in this case though you can certainly TRY to just don't be too disappointed if it doesn't work
Also shit you win the prize for worst Durance all I had was darkness and isolation and El Pecador making me into the predator I'd promised myself I'd never become except I guess I would have inevitably but at least it would have been on my OWN terms and
RIGHT sorry you don't care I am going to do my best now NOT to keep accidentally reminding you about how much you don't care by giving you things not to care about it's the least I can do as a common fucking courtesy to you
That and look for things for us to do where our respective similar deficiencies will be assets which as common fucking criminals in the goddamn Pokemon mafia shouldn't be all that hard
no subject
I was never like you before my Durance, I actually did genuinely care about people. Lots of them. I had so many little siblings I had to look after, I fucking loved them. I had a huge extended family, I had a boyfriend and friends that I LIKED. I've been out of the hedge for four months, I've killed two people and I thought
He pauses there (hits send, by accident), and leans over to take the joint back again so he can do a quick hit before he continues.
I don't know, I thought that maybe getting rid of them would get me something back that I lost. All it did was make me realise that I didn't CARE about anyone who showed up at that fucking funeral. And when they saw my dead Fetch, I didn't care about them screaming about it. I was only worried about not getting caught.
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He hates how familiar Tyler's words are.
He takes the joint back from Tyler.
I mean I'm not a COMPLETE sociopath or anything I DO care about my family and I can love people or at least I think I can but I have to get hella fucking invested in someone before I start to give a real shit at all about them so I spent my entire goddamn life before my Durance doing everything I could to make sure I would make those investments as many as I can out of sheer stubborn principle to maximize the number of people who'd be safe from me if I cracked
Because without putting in that goddamn investment everyone is nothing to me even people I've known for years hell most of the people I've fucked have been nothing to me just another warm body who wants what I want for an hour and when they're gone they're still just nothing
But god all that investment shit is exhausting and I think whatever I lost in El Pecador's basement is whatever DROVE me to fight back so hard because I hate to say it but I don't see the point to it anymore when once upon a time it was the most important goddamn thing just to fight back for the sake of fighting back and all those principles I had set for myself based on what people I knew with working morals believed don't really mean anything anymore either and I KNOW they did once I do
Fuck it used to bother me so much that I don't see the point to them anymore I just fucking did everything the Winter Court told me because at least someone was telling me what I had to do but it was just inertia you know there wasn't a POINT to going along with them it was just easier than not going along with them
I think maybe the things we lose from our Durances just don't ever come back and that's a fucking depressing thing to think about but the point is I guess if we know they aren't coming back then we just have to accept that
I have to accept that I don't see the point in protecting the world from me or adhering to any second-hand principles I might have had once and you have to accept that you just don't give a shit about people anymore at all
Then fuck I don't know we move beyond it
no subject
He just. Hates what they're saying.
You say accepting it like it's easy to just. Reconcile the fact that anyone I ever used to care about means less than nothing to me now. I escaped with one of my friends and I just. I can't bring myself to care that she's freaking out about being replaced. I tried and I TRIED to give her a shoulder to cry on but it never felt REAL.
He leans forward to prop his elbows on his thighs, lifts a hand to run his fingers through his hair, tightening his grip until his entire body tenses, his knuckles are white and his scalp stings like he's trying to punish himself for not caring. He takes the blunt back and it's looking very sorry as he puts it between his lips for another puff, and holds the smoke in there as he types again.
Why do you think I went after my boyfriend's Fetch to begin with. I thought maybe if I found It I'd FEEL something for Him again, and I got angry but it was wrong, it wasn't angry that I missed him, it was angry that It got to be happy and *I* didn't. So I thought maybe if MY Fetch feels something I might too. You know? So I made It walk into oncoming traffic and - Tyler's shoulders hitch slightly, and a faint noise escapes him - that might be recognisable as a sardonic little snigger - the guy that hit It was going so fast he swerved and T-boned a street light. I was there to watch the whole thing to make sure it went off without a hitch and I just didn't CARE. Not that I killed some random innocent person, or that I killed someone who looks just like my boyfriend, there was just.
Nothing.
So I went to the funeral and I could FEEL all of my family's emotions, everyone was so fucking sad and angry and they all cared SO MUCH and I DIDN'T. Even when my own Fetch saw me and tried to lay me out and I ran off and jumped over the fucking fence.
He takes out the dead stub of the blunt and flicks it onto the table, breathing out slowly.
My Fetch wasn't as fucking graceful as me. I made sure of it. It was like some tacky Christian symbolism, seeing my own fucking corpse impaled on a goddamn church fence. And like. I SAW my parents in the funeral. They looked like Nick dying almost broke them. I wonder what seeing their son did, because. I know what it's SUPPOSED to feel like, I can imagine that, I could write the most fucking tragic story about someone ELSE feeling that, but I can't fucking FEEL it for myself.
Jesus Christ. I killed my parents' son and I didn't feel a thing.
He lifts one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he should be crying and he isn't. He's a fucking monster.
no subject
I'm sorry about this. I know it doesn't help. But I am.
I can't fix you. Nobody can. But your life isn't over. And you can still find ways to be happy.
I say this as someone who's been a monster his entire life.
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And he looks up at Steven with a startlingly clear desperation in his eyes, hoping that Steven has some kind of answer to make him feel better about this shit. About himself, maybe.
no subject
He thinks the high is definitely starting to wear off a little for him.
To start with, you need to remember that happiness doesn't necessarily need to rest upon people. Even if people were what *used* to make you happy.
Happiness can rest upon *things* too. Things and experiences.
Food still tastes good. Baths still feel nice. Owning shit you wanted to have? That feels good too.
That high we get from stealing people? From cutting loose? Build your happiness from *that*, Tyler. It's not what a good person does, but we're not good people. We both know that.
Also, I can tell you for a fucking fact that you don't have to give one single shit about someone to enjoy fucking them. Orgasms are still orgasms. Find someone who isn't looking for anything but an hour of fun and *get laid*.
If I've learned anything in these last six weeks with Jack, it's that it doesn't matter how I *should* be. I am how I am. So are you.
What you are now isn't *unnatural*, it's just rare. That's the other thing I learned. That I wasn't alone in being like this. I knew it theoretically, of course, but it's different than ever meeting other people like me.
You aren't alone either, Tyler, even if that's how you feel. I'm like this to some degree. So are Jack and Dirk. Lydia too, more than any of us but you, probably.
And... now that I know, you really don't have to pretend with me. I'm not going to judge you for it. I'm glad you told me. And I'll do the courtesy of not pretending with you either. Even if we're monsters, we can at least be honest ones. At least among each other.
no subject
When I was a kid, all I wanted to do was grow up and get married and have my own family. I always knew I was bi so I didn't know whether it was going to be with a guy or a girl but I always, like. I KNEW I'd just find a partner and settle down with them. It's hard having that ripped away.
He purses his lips, and hopes that Steven can pretend not to notice him rubbing his wet eyes with the heel of his palm.
I'll try things out, I guess. It's not like there's much else I can do now. Training my Pokemon doesn't exactly bring me joy but they all seem to enjoy it, so that won't hurt to keep up with properly. Oh, there's why he's never around in the evenings. Thanks.
no subject
People like us can still have relationships and families, he types after a long moment. I don't know how it will work with someone like you, whose capacity for bonds isn't really there anymore, as opposed to someone like me or Jack, where it's just-- much harder for us than it is for normal people, but we can still do that whole... domestic family thing. Settling down with someone. They just-- have to be very understanding of our limitations. But there *are* people who are that understanding, even though they're otherwise normal, with a normal person's capabilities for bonds and caring about people. I *knew* one. If she hadn't been a girl and my sister besides...
Well. The other option is to settle down with someone like us. Which... is sort of what I'm doing with Jack. More or less, anyway. He knows how I am. I know how *he* is. For the most part, we don't expect things the other can't give, like the other's full attention after we end up rambling on for a while. But we still get companionship out of it. Someone around to enjoy those things and experiences with. Someone who'll laugh at things with us, even when they're things we probably shouldn't laugh at. And, you know, lots of sex.
It might be easier for the two of us, because we're working with a diminished capacity and not a virtually non-existent one... but I don't think it would be *impossible* for you, Tyler. Unlikely, if only because people like us are pretty thin on the ground. But not impossible.
The point is that people like us can still enjoy other people, even if we have trouble caring about them and forming emotional bonds. Enjoying people and caring about them are two wholly different things, just like sex and love are. You don't need to give a shit about someone to laugh together or get drunk together or game together.
Just... take my advice and don't ever get in an actual *relationship* with someone who *doesn't* know exactly what you are, okay? I speak from experience here. I did that for, God, a bit over two years and it wasn't worth it. You just end up playing a role for them for as long as the relationship lasts, doing your best to pretend that you really *are* normal for them, but even if they don't know that's what you're doing *specifically*, they will know that you're holding something back. And the moment they even get half an *idea* of what you're really like--
That's when it all explodes. I think 'cold, over-ambitious closet case' was about the nicest thing I got called.
So yeah. Unless you're lucky enough to have someone around who knows exactly what you are and isn't repulsed, just-- stick to fleeting hookups when it comes to sex. But if you ever do get that lucky, Tyler, don't discount it. Just-- maybe don't try for kids if the other person is like us?
Steven still doesn't know what happened with Jack and Angel. Steven only has Armin's vague hints to go by. But he knows that whatever happened, Jack probably did it.
(It was a bad idea for people like them to be the only ones taking care of a kid.)
And-- no problem. I'm actually glad if I can help? I know we're not actually friends the way we let everyone outside think we are because it's easier, but we're stuck together and I want to be able to work with you? And I want you to be happy or something approaching content, because it's easier to work with people who aren't miserable.
And also because he does like Tyler, even though Tyler confuses and frustrates him, but he's pretty fucking sure this is not the time to bring sentiment into things.