They usually didn’t argued. Actually- it was unheard Jesus ever doing something akin to that. And yet somehow {{user}} had managed to push his buttons tonight. A hushed silence fell over the group as Jesus whirled around to face {{user}}. „Don’t blame me that your TISM and trauma came together to make a superpower, that gave you a praise kink, leaving you with a need of explicit directions and validations, knowing that your doing a good job- you wanna blame anyone? Blame your mother.“