#the notes are mcfucking gone though
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transingthoseformers · 8 months ago
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Oh thank fuck I have the old colony faction au designs on the Drive
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thekrazykeke · 2 years ago
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Title: We Always Do This
Fandom(s): College Craze
Masterlist: Here.
Pairing(s): Jay x Phy
Summary: An intimate relationship is not only a physical relationship. It is a trusting relationship with another person without fear of rejection. 
Or, alternatively, Phylicity Carr and Jason Choi are on different tracks of life and on the surface, should not mix. Their first run-in with each other is brief, yet still, the universe rippled. They meet once more and contact is moderately established but again denied. Their third encounter (and every other meeting thereafter) is no less fraught with friction, and tension.
Warning(s): Canon typical violence, flirting, underage drinking, pining, misunderstandings, occasional use of the n-word, spoilers for College Craze
This is a self-indulgent, slight comfort piece I’m writing for myself but also for angelduality and alexandria on the College Craze Discord server. We all agreed that Samir needed to be put in his place. 
Thus this 2 am idea was born~
Reblog/like, share it with your friends, and/or comment if you want me to keep writing about this fandom or the adventures of this couple to be going forward. Without further ado, let’s dive into it!
@agehabutterfly @angelduality @summoreknots​ @theyrhymewithorange​
~
Prologue
You’re upset.
Slightly inebriated and head beginning to pound, you rub at your lips. Eugh, you can still taste him there. Or maybe it was just your imagination, he’d long since run off after you’d had to tell him twice to stop and get a little physical, forcefully pushing him away from you.
Rubbing your lips again, you blinked back the sting of frustrated tears, continuing your trek back to your dorm. Or at least that was the plan until you almost bumped into the Dean. It’s on the tip of the tongue to tell the man what you’d gone through, what Samir attempted to do, what he was capable of—
And then you noticed the ring.
Feeling a pit open up in your stomach, you just barely tear your gaze away and only then to question (interrogate) him carefully. Though you’d like to think it wasn’t the Dean who’d taken pictures of you while in the shower on your first day, he was giving you all-around bad vibes. Just what the fuck did he mean he was “ever watchful?” More like mcfucking negligent with how Samir just got to run around unchecked...!
Even after you got back to your dorm and stripped out of the dress you’d been wearing, took a quick shower, moisturized and redressed in clean clothes, reclining lazily in your desk chair, that feeling of doom wouldn’t leave you be.
So you picked up your cellphone and texted the one person who you could always count on when things really mattered.
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You rolled your eyes and huffed.
Although Mal is your older cousin, y’all argued like blood siblings 24/7 growing up together and they enjoyed giving you a hard time.
Lovingly, of course, she’d insist.
Before you could get out of the clean clothes (again) and shimmy in bed with just your panties (no Trish and you’d be under the covers, door and window locked 🤷🏽‍♀️), your phone began to ring insistently.
Rolling your eyes heavenward, you answered, clicking the button that set the call to speakerphone, “Hello?” The greeting had more attitude than you intended but it was out there now.
There’s a muffled sound like the person on the other end was shifting around. “L’l miss thing, dontchu be catchin’ an attitude wit me!” Although trying to sound serious and scolding, her voice cracks halfway and she breaks into helpless giggles.
Shaking your head, you can’t help but join in, chuckling a bit. “I’m sorry,” Stretching the final word, you turn it into a bit of a high note or hum. “You got me when I was ‘bout to catch some z’s.”
“‘Catch some z’s?’” The next chuckle created a bit of static over the phone. “Nah, nah, nah. We’re overdue for some quality bonding time.” There’s a moment’s pause. “Plus I already left my second job early. I’m outside yo school, so come on already…”
Exasperation warred with a smidgen of guilt as you popped up from the chair, snagging your book bag and tossed the folder containing your upcoming class papers, and some PJs and toiletries. Lastly, you tied the drawstrings tight, shoving your arms through the straps as you swung the book bag onto your back, snagging your phone off the desk after. “I’m on my way down but you really didn’t have to come if you were at work.”
Clicking their tongue, Mal sighed. “Just pick up the pace, please. The iron wrought gates realllllly give me bougie vibes and remind me of Saccharine Summit.”
The call disconnected before you could inquire about when and why they’d gone there. Just in time too as you twisted the knob of your dorm door, testing to make sure that it was locked before you hustled down the hall. Shoving your cellphone in your pocket, you shouted a distracted, “Sorry!” in the direction of the person you nearly bumped into while in your hurry to leave.
Walking the campus grounds at night, once again, is a bit odd in a way but you did your best to ignore the feeling. This is different than what Dean Monroe does and you’re pretty sure he had more motives than spousal issues as the only reason. Shaking your head, you find yourself breaking into a grin as you caught sight of the person leaning leisurely against the beat-up dark blue SUV parked outside the school gates, left leg propped up against the passenger door, tapping away on their cellphone.
Oblivious to your presence, for now, you take the time to take note of the changes your cousin had undergone during the summer. Much to your exasperation, you see that they’ve once again shot up in height, towering over most people, and definitely taller than yourself; though at this point, it’s just a staple of life. Mal is as tall as a tree and kept climbing while you plateaued at eighth grade and weren’t getting any taller (and boy, oh boy, did you try).
“Malicia!” You called out to her, waving and slipping out the school gates as they looked up at last. Mal beamed, genuine happiness to see you visible in those gray eyes, showing off pearly white teeth and that playful, dimpled smile that screamed mischief. Picking up speed, you managed two more steps before she caught you up in a warm hug, the action familiar and making you feel safe.
“Lookit, you!” After a few minutes, they pulled back to give you a quick once over. “My oh my, what have you been up to over the summer?” With a grin, Mal playfully leered at you, a knowing twinkle to their gaze.
Spluttering with fake indignation and good humor, you lightly slapped a hand against their stomach, rolling your eyes as they clutched at the area in exaggerated hurt. “Dumby, shut up! I’m more interested in what you been up to! Ya been hush-hush all summer about ya whereabouts and secretive on your socials,” You ticked off the reasons on your fingers. “And so has Stephen. Not to mention, is that…” Squinting for a moment, your eyes then widen. “Is that a tattoo!?”
Slapping a hand to the right side of their neck, hiding what looked to be a small flower (?) tattoo, their eyes darted around, uncharacteristically flustered. If it weren’t impossible with their skin tone, they’d definitely be blushing, you bet. “Just get in the car, aight?”
Cheesing now, you watched as Mal practically stomped around to the driver’s side of the car. Pulling on the passenger side door, you got inside and closed your door, tossing your bookbag onto the backseat floor before buckling up. Turning to your cousin, you’re about to pile on the questions but the radio turned on, automatically switching to Spotify and blasting Do We Have a Problem? by Nicki Minaj. The two of you exchanged a glance and then y’all are in sync, singing and laughing, acting a whole goofy mess and without a care in the world, cruising down the darkened lanes of Sugardale.
You’re snapping your fingers and rolling ya neck as the last of the beat tapered off and the next song, an old-school Keyshia Cole banger you ain’t heard in a while, started to play. Mal reached out and pressed the button on the screen to turn the volume down, but before you could complain you saw the police cruiser pulling up in the next lane.
Biting your bottom lip, you kept your gaze pointed forward to the darkened streets, trying to keep calm and collected. You hadn’t realized you’d been tapping repeatedly at the middle console until Mal grasped your hand tight; any other time you’d complain about the pressure but right now it’s comforting. Moments pass and just when you worry that y’all are going to get pulled over, the car drives past, siren blaring, and turns the corner. Exhaling quietly, you tried to calm your racing heart and almost succeeded until you realized exactly where y’all are.
“You live in Toffee Springs?”
Sharply, Mal turned to look at you, just as she pulled up into the driveway of a rundown two-story house. Before the interrogation could truly begin, the front door opened and a familiar figure strode outside and walked down the stairs. The young, tattooed Asian man went to the backside of the car on the driver’s side and you heard the locks disengage. He pulled open the back door and an overhead light came on, right as he began to grab the contents off the backseat.
“Put that on the kitchen table please, Jay. Phylicity, help him out would you? Where is Triggs and, oh, there’s Stephen. Never mind then.”
The stranger, whom you turned down the offer to give you a ride downtown to Honeywood, and the same guy who was nice enough to stick around at the bus stop with you for as long as possible before outside factors made him leave, glanced to the front, where you’re sitting in the passenger seat.
Battling with awkwardness at the weird situation, yet still opting to be courteous, you smiled and lightly waved in his direction as a greeting but he didn’t do much besides continuing on with his task, hefting the contents underneath each arm and stepping backward, letting the car door swing close, heading back to the house.
Well.
Alright then.
Rolling your eyes heavenward, you unbuckle your seatbelt and quickly get out of the car.
“L’l sis!” Stephen’s excited yell nearly ruptures your eardrums as you’re caught up in a one-sided hug. Blinking, you laughed shortly, as for the second time tonight, you find your face squished against a clean white t-shirt smelling of something subtly sweet, probably his cologne.
After a few moments, close to half a minute of one-sided hugging, you patted his stomach, the nonverbal signal to let go which he did after gently pinching your cheek.
Irritated now, you swatted at him which he dodged with insulting ease, darting back to the car, dark green eyes glinting with amusement.
“Go in the house, we got this!”
If Mal is as tall as a tree, Stephen is a skyscraper comparably. He towered over men and women alike without effort and was even taller than Mal themself. The adults back in Bitterby had often joked that he’d sprouted from the womb fully grown and as he stood near the car, gesturing for Triggs to hand over the items in his hold, you could see it.
Shaking your head, you jog up the stone steps, striding across the small expanse, hand outstretched to touch the front doorknob when abruptly, the door swung open again. Standing there in the doorframe, blocking the entrance is Jay. Mouth pulling itself into a small frown, you start to go left, “‘Scuse me,” The phrase is half-assed, gaze darting to the right side of his profile, more interested in catching a peek of the house’s interior and feet already in motion.
Only Jay’s also thinking the same thing apparently, going left as well.
“Ay! Careful…” You’d nearly bumped into him and quickly shuffled backward before you could tread over his shoes. Ever experienced that stupid awkward shuffle thing, where Person A is going in one direction, expecting Person B to go the opposite way?
But they defy expectations and common sense and keep getting in the way?
Yeah, apparently that’s a thing that happens in reality.
The two of y’all are trapped in this hellish cycle for what feels like an eternity but in reality might have been a couple of seconds, before Jay just moves to the right, gesturing you to enter first.
You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and quickly dart inside.
To the right, on the cream-colored walls are hooks for coats, hats, umbrellas, etc. An umbrella stand with at least three umbrellas neatly stacked inside beneath the wall hooks, and a shoe rack sits near the umbrella stand, adjacent to the spiraling wooden staircase leading to the upper level. Giving a quick glance to the left, there’s a door that’s half-opened.
Toeing off your shoes, an ingrained habit keeping you from walking around in outdoor footwear, leaving tracks, you neatly stack them in a spare space. Hearing the others come back up the front steps and not wanting to get in the way, you pushed open the door on the left, hand blindly reaching out for a light switch on the wall, as the room is pitch black, sighing with relief, and entered the room.
And stared.
The walls in this room sport a rich black wallpaper with bulbous bright yellow orbs stamped at random intervals that almost seemed to glow beneath the fluorescent lighting provided by the ceiling fan/light and the tall lamp in the upper left corner of the room. There’s a wooden dining table with a gray tablecloth covering the entirety, the cloth is long, falling over the sides but not onto the floor, and several matching wooden chairs are placed around the table.
Feeling like your head is on a swivel, you walk further into the room, around the table, and up to the floor-to-ceiling bookcase.
Rows upon rows of books line the shelves.
Not just books of one genre or series, but also comics, manga, and manhwa. Hand outstretched, you’re about to take Killing Stalking off the shelf but then you heard the commotion.
It’s slightly muffled but…hm.
Deciding to hold off on getting any recreational reading done, you turn back to the door you came through and peek your head out.
It’s obvious that they’re trying to keep their voices low but you’re nosy. Tiptoeing down the hall, you linger outside the half-closed door which leads to the kitchen area presumably.
There’s a thump.
Biting the inside of your cheek, peering carefully through the crack in the doorway, you hold your breath, waiting.
It didn’t take long.
"Shut.... mannnn, I swear on everything-" There's that familiar aggressive undertone prevalent in Stephen's voice that he's trying to contain. "You goofy ass muhfucka! You was standin' right there, you heard me! I told Phylicity to go in the house. I did, me, so if you got a problem..."
"That's not what he was sayin'," Jay is trying to smooth things over. "That's not what he was sayin' at all. Triggs was just-"
"I said what the fuck I said!" Triggs exploded. Jay pinched the bridge of his nose and threw up his hands in an oh-well way.  "I ain't runnin' a muhfuckin' maid and delivery service but maybe I should wit how y'all got me runnin’ ‘round doin' chores an’ shii like this my spot!”
"Who invited you here? That's what I'm trynna figure out?" Stephen retorted, completely fed up.
"Can y'all supposedly grown-ass adults act y'all age and stop yellin' and screamin' over somethin' so petty?" At last, Mal cut in, sounding completely done. "Phylicity, l’l miss thing, don't linger like that, it’s aight.  I promise, they friends, they just hotheaded."
Busted, you sheepishly pushed open the kitchen door fully and stepped inside.
To your immediate left, there’s an entryway and a door that potentially leads outside, as well as wooden stairs leading to the basement. Turning your attention forward, you see that there’s a table with aluminum pan after pan of food situated smack dab in the middle of the room. The black marble counters to the left are neat and besides the microwave and coffee machine, very little decoration.
“Do we pass inspection, l’l miss thing?”
Trying to control the rush of heat wanting to spread across your face, you poke your bottom lip at Mal who’s smirking lightly.
“You won’t be written up by the landlord at least,” With that cheeky quip and nose in the air, mimicking importance, you sweep your gaze around the room again, taking note of the black fridge and the little magnets stuck to the surface.
The stove is brand new and clean, there are no dishes in the sink.
“Nah, I’m playin’. I really like the aesthetic y’all got goin’ on here!” Gazing back at Mal as you reassured them but from the corner of your eye, you note that Stephen, leaned up against the door behind him, relaxed.
“Aight. ‘Nough o’ all that.” Stephen declared, leaning up and reaching behind him to twist the knob of the door. Opening it to reveal a pantry of sorts with all sorts of canned goods, an assortment of cereal, knock-off and name brands, plastic containers, etc.
He grabbed the bag which held paper food containers.
“Phy, plate us up, please.”
Reaching out, you accepted the food containers and placed them in an empty space on the table. You’re about to wash your hands first.
“Why she gotta plate the food up?” Triggs asked with annoyance. He was sitting at the end of the table in a chair while Jay’s leaning against the deep freezer. “It’s not like she helped bring any of it in and knowing y’all, it’s gon be someshit where she get t’ eat first ‘cause she a girl!”
Knowing Stephen, you can recognize that he’s at his limit and about to clown. Malicia sighed and their shoulders straightened, another person about finally snap.
And you just can’t.
“I was only ‘bout to plate Stephen, Mal, and myself up but go off I guess.” You manage to keep your voice calm and level, monotone even, as you went about your appointed task, filling the containers with food for three people.
Stephen and Mal definitely ate much, much more than most, you’d learned early.
You look Triggs dead in the eye, making sure that he read the truth of it all in your face - that you wasn’t scared of him, Stephen or no Stephen. Mal or no Mal. He could hoop and holler and get as l o u d as he wanted, he didn’t want the smoke if you really popped off.
Knock Out Thursdays were a tradition in Bitterby but apparently, you’d have to start it up again.
“C’mon, Triggs, man. Just chill.” Jay murmured, barely audible. He sounded as exhausted with the situation as anyone else.
There was a visible tick in Triggs’ jaw but he ended up looking away first, letting out a ‘tsk!’ like a cliché anime NPC and grumbled underneath his breath, but whatever he said was too low for you to hear anyway.
Satisfied with the outcome of this whole unnecessary debate as you may be, this debacle, along with everything that had happened tonight, made you less willing to be the proper guest that you’d been raised up to be.
“I’m not that hungry.” It’s a simple statement and only half true. You were a bit hungry, but you weren’t gonna pass out if you missed one meal. You read the protest all over Stephen’s face and held up the first container for him to take. “I’m just gon catch up on a few assignments and go to sleep.”
“Phylicity…” Stephen said lowly, a cajoling note entering his tone.
“I’ll be up in a little bit with a snack then,” Mal stated decisively, ignoring the way Stephen let out a betrayed sputter; he expected to be a united front, obviously. You’re about to reiterate that you’re not hungry but she reached out and grabbed the remaining food container from you, using her free hand to tug lightly at your left ear.
Hissing with agitation, you rub at the abused appendage, prepared to tell your cousin off but their raised eyebrow defeated you without another word uttered. You could almost hear Aunty Tara in the back of your skull, scolding you for having the audacity not to have three full course meals, and a snack, too, at least, if you were doing homework.
Rolling your eyes, you look to the left, conceding. “See you in a bit…” Turning on your heel, you’re about to stride right out of the kitchen.
“Guest room is on the end of the hallway after you get up the stairs. Can’t miss it. And I left ya bookbag at the top of the stairs.” Stephen piped in.
With a faint nod, you left the oppressive atmosphere and area, the kitchen door swinging closed after you. Placing a hand on the stair rail, you ascended the steps quickly, two at a time, until you reach the landing after the 11th step, caught your breath, as you were a bit winded, and saw your bookbag at the very top as promised. Continuing your trek, you bent down and snagged the strap, swinging it up onto its familiar position.
There are not many rooms in this hallway, four at the most.
Pressing lightly at the door of the room behind you, it opened and you see that it’s a bathroom. Nodding to yourself absently, you continue this little habit until you reach your destination at the end of the hall, and enter the room, closing the door after you see that the room, while a bit spartan, has all the required necessities.
Besides the bathroom and guest room, where you’d be sleeping, there’s a storage area, there’s no other word for it, as there are boxes marked MAL, STEPHEN, LINEN, etc, while the locked room is…
Mal’s? Stephen’s? Did they bunk together for space reasons?
Unsure of their dynamic, as in your eyes, it’d always been a little blurry. Sometimes, they acted like “regular” friends, other times, mainly Stephen, looked at Mal with such naked longing, it was pitiful as it was painful. However, sometimes, just sometimes, before the summer and their subsequent hiatus and detour from all social media, you’d caught them looking at Stephen a certain way too, always when he wasn’t looking…
‘Homework time, homework time.’ Deciding to give no more thought to it, you instead tossed your bookbag at the foot of the guest room’s bed. Then took a seat crisscross applesauce on the bed, doing some mild sprawling, twisting, and leaning, as you unzipped your bookbag and pulled out some homework that you’re determined to stay ahead of. As well as your pajamas, quietly cursing yourself for forgetting your phone charger.
Then you got into it and everything became background noise.
Time passed and although some assignments are a bit challenging, in the end, you managed to finish everything. Or mostly everything, there was one question that was getting on your nerves, but you may be overthinking it.
Cracking your knuckles idly, you turn your attention to the door after hearing a knock.
A little unnecessarily, but habitual to when you used to spend nights over the house with her and Aunt, Mal announced herself.
“It’s me and I come bearing gifts.”
Shaking your head slightly at her goofiness, you can’t ignore the little growl your stomach let out. “Come in, dumby.”
The door opened, and Mal entered, dressed in simple gray sweat pants and a sports bra, silk bonnet on her head, her choice of sleepwear showed off practically everything, which included her stretch marks and soft tummy, though it was tryna get some muscles, you guessed. “So mean, and here I thought you’d like your usual strawberry shortcake aaaaand,” Placing the paper plate with a thick slice of strawberry shortcake, as promised, on the bedside table, she pulled her other hand from behind her.
And in her hold….
“Mr. Snuffles!” It was with effort that you kept your voice at a reasonable tone but the sight of the first stuffed animal y’all ever worked on together, made you emotional. Normally that was an ew vibe, but this was a different situation.
Tonight was wild and you deserved to be a little mushy.
Just this once.
“I know you gave it to me when I moved out, but since you here, I just thought that, well…”
You didn’t bother listening to the rest of the sentence. You reached out and gingerly grasped the purple squid/squirrel creature, looking into its bulbous yellow eyes, and nostalgia flooded your body. Then you looked at your cousin and placed Mr. Snuffles in a comfortable position in the bed before reaching out, and Malicia automatically followed your move, wrapping her arms around you.
And oh, oh. There it was, there it was. Safety.
That feeling you’d need tonight.
Nothing could hurt you here, with Mal around.
Safety.
You listened to the slow, steady rhythm of their heartbeat. 
Safety.
“I missed seein’ yo big-headed butt. You gotta come over more often.” Mal’s voice is strained, you can hear the unasked question in her tone but you don’t answer it. You can’t answer that you’re okay because it’d be a lie and they always made the most disappointed face when you lied to them, but you’re getting there.
Repression had always been easy for you.
“Nah, we’d get really tired of seein’ each other all the time. It’d be like nothing changed.” You tried to assure them though.
Mal sighed and leaned back, gaze roving over your face. Whatever they saw only made the furrow in their brow deepen. “...Some things never have to change and your priority is definitely one of them.”
Uh-oh, incoming feels talk.
“Phylicity. I know you hate to hear it because you think I’m baby’ing you, but I…. You can always count on me, day or night, big or small, I’m on your side. More than my cousin, you’re my little sister, and I love you.”
“....I love you too.” The words are a whisper and your face is on fire, but still. Still, you said it.
Mal sighed softly. “I’m tempted to camp out here wit that air mattress I got,” The horror that flashes across your face makes them laugh and they tap your nose before slowly detangling from your embrace. “But I’ma leave you to your very important college homework shenanigans.” Pointing their finger in your face, they shot you a warning glance as they start to stride for the door again. “No later than 2 am, though, and I will be back to check!”
With that last parting remark, you’re left alone with your thoughts, but this time, you have Mr. Snuffles with you and suddenly, you decide to save that last question for the morning, at a reasonable-ish hour. You strip out of your clothes again for the night and get into your pajamas, then slide underneath the covers, cuddling the stuffie close to you.
Sleep comes easier than it would have originally.
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cryptidsandcatacombs · 3 years ago
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Hey! For the prompt meme, How about some “I know that you love me, but your jealousy is getting out of hand.” for L please! Only if you want to!
Uhuh this my shit This is an L x Reader so this should be fun~<3 I might be channeling my s/i's story into this but
Summary: Reader has been L's assistant for quite some time. They care about each other mutually during the ample time they've been around each other. L is usually good about keeping it subtle and under wraps but something happens that makes him mcfucking lose it. Rating: Pretty adult stuff here. NSFW. No one under the age of 18 may read. Sexual content is contained in this fic.
The evening had droned on with the hours wasting away unknown to L. He's never been one to keep track of the time that well. Once he's into his work, he ignores he forgoes a decent sleep schedule and what could be considered an actual substantial meal for coffee with an embarrassing amount of caffeine and sugar and what could be considered enough candy and pastries to give a horse diabetes. However, this has changed since y/n came along. It isn't that Watari didn't keep L in line when it comes to his diet. Watari has learned how stubborn L can be in the middle of an important case and getting L to do anything is like pulling teeth. But, there was something about y/n that made L listen and made L want to take care of himself a bit better. Watari definitely regards y/n as a miracle worker of sorts. Even L has to admit he has gotten a soft spot for y/n. Something he hasn't felt for anyone in a very, very long time. However, L has to admit his little soft spot has manifested into something of the more romantic variety. He can't help but see them and try his hardest to sound impressive. The blind man has no idea y/n already finds everything about him impressive. The hour was late however and y/n was nowhere to be seen. They had informed him that they had an engagement that evening. Didn't say what though. "Hey y/n, would you come here pl--," he said looking over to find y/n wasn't there. L was so used to having y/n around that he had forgot about this little detail. "Oh yeah, that's right," L mumbled to himself. One of the members of the latest task force he had been working with came over to L's side. "Sir, maybe you didn't know, but y/n has evening plans with a Mr. Enji Tanakada. I figure they have might informed you." "Enji Tanakada..why does that name sound familiar," L mumbled to himself quickly typing away at his computer. L froze when he saw the name come up. The case L had been working on was of the international sex trafficking variety. Dozens upon dozens of people of every gender had gone missing and it linked back to a company L had been tracking. They seemed legit on the surface, but the CEO, Renji Hiroto, had a dark side to him. Enji Tanakada was a certain Hiroto-san's close personal assistant in what L suspected was all matters including the illicit and illegal ones. "Son of a bitch y/n," L growled. He tightened his jaw in frustration. "Of all the stupid, reckless things you could have done." "Sir, I apologize I didn't tell you earlier. They had informed me that you were told and you had given them the approval," the task member had stated flustered and nervous fearing L's current state. "Well, next time inform me will you. Don't make a dumb mistake like that again," said L being snappy. He wasn't ok in this state of mind and any form or reasoning escaped him. "Now, did they tell you where they were going off to," L inquired. "I had overheard a phone coversation y/n was having that lead me to ask about the engagement. Some sort of hotel. Very high end. They both wanted to keep this under wraps," the task member said now regretting not asking for more details in case they needed back up. "And you didn't ask for the location? Your stupidity astounds me," L said not having any patience. L furrowed his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose in contemplation. He was kicking himself for not asking for more details now either, but he figured it was y/n's life and their business is their own. A mistake, he noted, that he will not make twice. "Well, I guess if you want something done right," L said bringing out the tracking device he had kept on him for cases like this. "Hopefully, y/n was wise enough to bring the tracking device I asked them to have on them at all times." L would reason with himself that this wasn't a stalking thing. That was partially a lie. The major part of it is when y/n signed up for this, he had known that the job came with a particular risk factor that could include kidnapping and so on. L has seen enough for the dingy, corrupt criminal underworld to warrant such
paranoia. L's eyes lit up to see that yes it had been on them. "Oh thank heaven y/n you beautiful angel," L muttered as he put the device in his pocket. "Watari, I need you to drive me," L ordered Watari already heading towards the car 3 steps ahead of L. The room Mr. Tanakada had booked super pricey with much leg room to go around in. Y/n wasn't sure whether he was seeking to impress or knew y/n was an agent and looking to throw them off. Either way, it was a lot. Tanakada had set down two champagne glasses. One y/n was wise enough not to drink. Tanakada had raised an eyebrow in concern. "What's a matter," he had asked. "Oh I'm doing a 10 step program. Major drinking problems a few months back," they said coming up with a lie. "Tch I'm sure you can let loose for one night," said Tanakada lifting his own glass in temptation. "So uh Tanakada-san, you said you had an ongoing business proposition to ask of me," y/n said. "Oh yes. There's a bit of travel involved if you're in," he said leaning forward to look y/n in the eye. "Oh, and what makes you think I'm a perfect fit for this business proposition," y/n inquired. "I can tell just by looking at you. I have a certain eye for these things," he said looking y/n up and down. "Well, if you're that sure, I guess I can be onboard," y/n said leaning forward, placing their hand under their chin. "Good. You're a smart one," Tanakada said lifting his glass, "You sure you don't to drink to celebrate. Excellent. Just had to close the deal before getting to this point. "Cheers to new beginnings," y/n said lifting their glass. Just as they were about to drink, the door to the room busted wide open with a violent bang. Y/n stared behind them to find a very angry L breathing heavily. Y/n froze figuring this might happen, but hoping they wouldn't. L snatched the glass and handed it to Watari. "Watari, can you bring this in for testing. If it tests positive for drugs, then we may have a few more questions for you," L said staring down Tanakada the angriest he's ever been. Tanakada snarled. "And just who do you think you are barging into my private room and--" Tanakada froze with the sight of the warrant L had lifted up. "I would watch what you say. You're under suspicious Tanakada-san. Let's just say your place isn't so safe either right now," L said with a voice that wasn't so whimsical as it is during these moments, but very cold and caculated. Y/n could tell he had lost patience. L took his seat in one of the chairs around the room taking a candy bar out of his pocket. "You don't mind if we just hang out til the boys in blue inform me of your dirty laundry now do you," L stated taking a bite of his bar. L had a look in his eye that wasn't of a detective giving you his knowing gaze, but of a predator looking to tear apart its prey. It sent shivers down everyone's spine whether he realized it or not. Hours later, L's task force had come back with evidence. Video tapes upon files upon illegal drugs had been found in Tanakada's home. All of them leading to the missing people. L's eye twitched suspecting the man got off on this job and liked to keep recordings of his capture for a certain Mr. Hiroto. And to think y/n might have been next. The thought of someone jerking off to this happening to y/n made his hand turn white and shake with rage. He snarled at Tanakada as he was being taken away in cuffs. L was kind of hoping merely staring at Tanakada would knock him out cold from the impact. After rigorous hours of y/n giving their testimony to L and the task force, L flopped down on the couch in his room tired. Y/n came in with their pjs as L had asked them to stay the night. "Sorry about that. I just didn't want you to worry cause I thought you wouldn't ap--" Y/n was interrupted by L standing straight up to face them. His posture was usually abysmal so y/n had never seen him with his back straight. Seeing it for the first time was absolutely terrifying. "You're damn right I wouldn't approve. What were you thinking? You could have gotten killed or
taken away somewhere no one would find you. Is that what you want," L said actually raising his voice. Y/n tried to find the answer, but couldn't finding L pretty intimidating right now. L flopped back onto his couch sitting in his usual manner. "Seriously, I'd love to know what your thought process was," L said voice low and raspy. "Well, I figured, if I could get taken by the people you suspect, you could track me having seen that I had gone missing and that would be your evidence right there," y/n stated. L looked over at y/n like they grew a third head. Y/n could be reckless some times, but holy shit this took the cake. "I'm going to have to ask you to repeat that as I don't think I heard you right. You were hoping to get kidnapped," L inquired, voice containing a thinly veiled tone of frustration. "Well, yeah. What faster way to catch the crooks then to catch them in the act yeah," y/n responded. "Of all the stupid..." L growled running his hand down his face. He tapped his fingers on his knees trying to figure out what to say. Y/n stared at L for a long time. Y/n noticed the fall and rise of his shoulders had become sporadic. L was far from composed right now and y/n was close enough to him to know it. Y/n shuffled over to L and sat by him. L turned to y/n noticing the new presence beside him. L shakily reached out for y/n's hand, rubbing it tenderly. "Don't you dare ever do that again. You might work for me, but believe it or not, I care very much for your well being. Too much for you to be doing impulsive actions like this. Do you comprehend what I'm saying? I understand you want to help, but not at the risk of your life. Never at the risk of your life," L said as if he was nearly going to break down. Y/n looked down to see L's hand trembling and gripping y/n's hand. His breath became shaky and anxious. Y/n had never seen L this upset. They were mostly taken aback by how much this had shaken him up. "Ok. I'm sorry," y/n conceded. L nodded slowly, pulling y/n close. Y/n stood frozen at the sudden contact. Y/n slowly held L back. L could feel how exhausted he was as he melted into y/n's arm. The warmth and comfort was far more healing than anything L had ever felt. “I know that you love me, but your jealousy is getting out of hand," y/n said cracking a joke. L gave a stifled laugh at this. Not only cause it was kind of funny to him, but also he didn't want to admit the truth. While what he did to save y/n was out of pure concern, he had to admit. He had grown jealous towards the idea of them being alone together. This dangerous man holding y/n's hand, kissing them, earning y/n's sweet words in his ear. Possibly more. L didn't like to think about it nor did he want to. It was far too unbearable. L decided to retort before this feeling of envy took him to increasingly dark places. "Oh and what about you? I joked about taking a certain lady out on a date for an investigation and you looked like you were going to kill someone." Y/n shoulders stiffened at hearing this. God, they were hoping he didn't notice that. "Now whose jealous," L said stick his tongue out playfully. Y/n blushed and began looking for a way to change the subject. "Hey uuu isn't that movie you wanted to watch on netflix," y/n said picking up L's laptop punching in L's password. "Oh right. I guess a movie night wouldn't be so bad," L said taking the blanket off the edge of his couch, covering both of them. L clapped a couple of times, dimming the lights as the movie started. L may have been joking about y/n being just as much of a jealous creature as he was, but he had a hard time admitting aloud that he was dearly hoping it was true. L truly didn't want to think about anyone having y/n's affection. Having this time they gave him to someone else. He had never been this close, this trusting, with anyone. This in love with anymore. Romance was never a possibility in his mind seeing as he had never been interested in romance. Then here came along y/n. Someone who had effortlessly won his heart and made him fall in love
with them in the most romantic way possible. If anyone were to take any of that that away, take away the person he loved more than life itself, the person he fell in love with, he wasn't sure what he'd do. All he could do was hope y/n had fallen in love with him too.
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writing-the-end · 4 years ago
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LoL Chapter 51- Fallen Angel
(Sorry this is late! i got my vaccine and it mcfucking knocked me out lol)
Masterpost
A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)
The hermits return to Eremita from a restocking trip, to discover they have been raided. And one hermit has been taken. 
Warning: Capture, slight torture scene
_________________________________
Eremita has become their safe haven, the last bastion for the guild. Even when the arcane guard chased them all the way to the water’s edge, no sane person would dare follow the hermits into the Ashioll sea. Which is exactly why they lived in its mysterious, misty embrace. 
They could no longer simply fly off upon the backs of sky turtles, or even teleport into the towns they frequented. Now, when the hermits absolutely had to go into public for supplies they couldn’t make or grow themselves, they sailed in on Cleo’s pirate ship. And when they had to leave, they made sure that if anyone was following them, they took a roundabout direction back to their home. It adds time, weaving between the islands and through the mists, but ensures no one can guess where they live. 
Cleo’s pirate ship beaches up onto the sand, nestling back into place as a wrecked vessel once more. The dream magic fades, revealing broken oak boards, seagrass growing through seams, and splintered masts of the ghost ship Cleo commands. Hypno blinks free from his sleep, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Already? Man, my dream was just starting to get interesting.” 
With the help of rattling skeletons, their bones held together by magical muscle and sinew, the hermits unload food, meats, fabrics, and more. Enough for months, as if they were preparing to be snowed in after a massive blizzard. Almost all the hermits were a part of the flow of supplies. 
Almost. Only three hermits stayed behind. Zedaph had an accident with his two explosive friends, and while it wasn’t the first time, Grian wanted to keep an eye on the burns in case the magic lingered. Mumbo stayed behind as well, but for very different reasons. One, he was easily recognizable. Everyone knows the multimage that Dolios wants captured alive. Him and Grian are the only two who Dolios demands be captured alive. He also was in the middle of inventing some new contraption, and was not about to leave it behind and lose all his progress. Last Cleo saw of him, he was extinguishing burning locks of hair. She wonders if he’s made any progress, or if he’s burned all his hair away at this point.
Once Impulse and Tango have unloaded their share of the shipment, they go in search of their friend. Both still feel bad for burning Zed, even if it was by accident. And they’ve all been burned at this point in all their years together. But it doesn’t mean they don’t feel bad, especially leaving Zed behind. At least they brought back a caramel apple from his favorite stall in the market, as well as fresh hay for his barn and animal friends. 
“Zed? We have a surprise for you!” Tango calls, his voice twinged with mischief, as if they plan to prank their friend rather than give him a gift. No response comes from the flat roofed barn, except the distant bleat of a sheep. Tango looks at Impulse, fiery hair remaining vertical even as his head tips to the side. “Could he be taking a nap?” 
“You know Zed and his sleep schedule, he wouldn’t interrupt it, even when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.” Impulse waves it off. “He probably just isn’t listening, or maybe pulling a prank of his own. Let’s go in.” 
Impulse waves Tango through the gate, careful to keep the sheep, goats, and other farm animals from getting between Tango’s feet and causing his hair to ignite the dry hay in his arms. A horse nips at the bale, but Tango keeps it well away from catching fire. He’s relieved to lighten the load he’s carrying as soon as they're inside the barn. Both mages look to the bed tucked in the corner, but no Zedaph. Tango tosses the haybale aside. “He should be resting.” 
They clamber over the piles of hay, searching every nook and cranny for Zedaph. Even his cookie stash, which they let him believe is still a secret. But Zed is nowhere within the barn he chooses to live in. 
Concern pales both Impulse and Tango’s face, and Tango’s hair reacts in kind to the revelation. “Perhaps he’s being treated by Grian?” 
Tango doesn’t answer, already following the path across the width of the island, from one shore to another. Grian’s floating cloud, the quartz tower with large archways and a glass domed roof. Perfectly built for a sky angel, his wings and speed. Not so perfect for his roommate, and all of Mumbo’s redstone machinery, his own lanky body climbing up onto the solid cloud and stairs to sleeping quarters.
The redstone workshop at the base of the building has been cleaned up, though a few vials seem to have rolled away, as if they were grabbed then subsequently dropped. But, just like the barn, no sign of Mumbo. 
But there is a sound. Echoing from the glass dome, a sniffling, stifling cry escapes from above, followed by a gasping, shuddering breath. Impulse runs up the steps as fast as possible, each bounce from stair to stair accentuated with a tiny explosion to give him more speed. Tango blazes behind, fire burning bright as the sun as energy courses through him. He notices on the way up grey streaks against the pure white quartz. 
“Zedaph?” Impulse breathes, screeching to a full stop. In the center of the room, Mumbo and Zed are huddled close, holding on tight. Their eyes wild with fear, and in Zed’s eyes he can see a shared memory. A shared trauma him, Impulse, and Tango all share. Two hermits, holding onto each other like its their last hope. 
Only two. “Where’s Grian?” 
Mumbo opens his mouth, but a strangled cry only escapes. Tears fall from both their faces, shaking like leaves. Something bad has happened to their friend. Tango slides across the floor, grabbing Zedaph and Mumbo. “What happened? Where’s Grian? Are you hurt?” 
They both shake their heads, but finally Mumbo gathers enough of his voice to speak. It’s weak, broken apart like glass shattering. “He took him.” 
__________________________________________________
A cold, wet air fills Grian’s lungs, biting into his skin like ice on a cold morning. When he tries to open his eyes, the dull ache of his skull becomes sharp, forcing the angel to screw them closed again. Grian grimaces, trying to figure out why he has such a terrible headache. Did he hit his head in training? No, he wouldn’t have been allowed to sleep with the hermits hovering over him. Perhaps he drank too much. Once again, impossible. Grian knows what his hangover is like, and it’s not this. 
He realizes he’s definitely hanging, but not from drinking. Cold, hard metal presses flat against his wrists, suspended over his head. The iron bites into his skin, all his weight rubbing his wrists raw. 
“Good, you’re awake. I was starting to get bored waiting, though I do quite enjoy relishing in finally having my prize thirty years in the making.” The snide, even tempo of Magistrate Dolios’s voice hurts worse than any headache or wrist, and Grian finally manages to open his eyes. The cavern he finds himself in is foreign, not even remotely similar to the brick and iron dungeons where he last woke up in Dolios’s clutches. So long ago, it feels like. The Championship. At the time, he felt like he was at the top of the world. Now? Now he feels like the world was crushing him. 
Grian resists his bindings, but even when he kicks outward, his feet don’t even scrape the dank floor. He tips his head back, until the crown of his head collides with a smooth, hard material. Just at the touch, he can feel the oppressive energy of the crystal. In his vision, he sees the sharp tip of the massive gem. Each wrist is locked tight against the crystal, the nails buried deep in the crystal lattice. 
He looks around, searching for other hermits. For Mumbo, the last face he remembers before…
The memories flood in, cascading alongside the fear and panic. He remembers everything, every terrifying second. Leaving Zedaph to meet with Mumbo, he remembers the scent of marigolds on his hands, just after crushing the petals to make a paste for Zedaph’s burns. The quiet island, most of the other hermits gone. He remembers patting his pocket, the note from his best friend telling him to meet at Iskall’s place. 
But when he arrived, Mumbo was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t unusual, Mumbo tended to get distracted and be late. So he waited, plucking orange petals from his clothes, hair, and hands. He should’ve noticed the way the wind shifted, becoming cold and stale, before disappearing completely. 
He should’ve realized something was very wrong when the grey stormcloud appeared. But he didn’t. He was so focused on waiting for Mumbo, then on getting rid of the flowers in his feathers, that he didn’t see the husks crawl their way free of the ocean. At least, not until the husk of a soldier came barreling for him, empty glowing white eyes and ashen, flaky form charging with halberd drawn.  
Grian squeaked, dodging the attack. Stumbled over the writhing form of a cactus cat, the fading spines still quite sharp, he was saved by a pair of not-grey arms. 
Not grey arms draped in wine red fabric, the hems decorated in gold thread. He realized who it was immediately, and scrambled to try and get away. But Dolios’s magic kept a strong grip, vines of black twisting and tying Grian’s wings to his back, while a hazy fog had grown around them. 
He remembers the feeling of Dolios’s hands in his hair, pulling him to his feet as he struggled and fought against the vines and the fog that filled his mind. Hands clawing at his binds, even biting the magistrate at one point. He remembers the taste of blood, iron on his tongue and Dolios swearing, blasting Grian with magic. 
And the last thing he remembers, before being knocked out and torn away from his home, was Mumbo’s face. Rounding the corner, completely oblivious to the fight occurring. It was at that moment that Grian realized, when his eyes locked with Mumbo’s that it wasn’t him that sent the letter. The confusion, of seeing Grian, the surprise on his face. He was walking towards the infirmary, dropping the box  in his hand upon seeing the sight before him. 
The fear on Mumbo’s face matched Grian’s own, as he was dragged into the sea. A second later, a swift burst of sonic energy knocked him out. 
And now he’s here. Dolios saunters across the room, gathering ingredients and writing down notes. Grian swings his legs, and summons his wings to try and be free. But as soon as the blue and white feathers appear, they crumble into ash. Crushing weight sets in on his head, his shoulders, his lungs, and his magic, and the crystal he’s trapped against hums with power. “You’re quite different from the last angel I hunted. At least you fought back, but in the end they left me without the gift of their magic. This time, I’m not letting anything go to chance.” 
The magistrate sets his bowl of guts aside, approaching the crystal and Grian. His hands are clasped behind his back, shoulders straight and head held high. The weight of the oppressive dark magic doesn’t bother him. Grian’s not ready to give up just yet. He attempts to kick Dolios, but the dark mage stands mere centimeters out of reach. So Grian decides to use his words. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?” 
“I’ve been told that once or twice before, yes. But the rest of Lairyon loves me. And why wouldn’t they? I’ve brought prosperity to this kingdom, done more than that stupid rainbow king could ever do, and all of this because of my power.” Dolios sweeps his hands, vapors of dark magic swirling from his fingers as his fingers clench to fists
“Stolen magic. If the citizens knew, they’d hate you just as much as I do.” Grian reels back his head, and does the best he can to annoy Dolios. He spits on him. The glob of spit lands on Dolios’s cheek, the magistrate flinching, then reaching up and wiping it away. A fresh anger in his eyes. 
“And who would believe you? An outcast mercenary orphan? The last of your kind?” Dolios stoops low, plucking a husked feather from the floor. He walks back to the table, mixing the components and ingredients from his jars of death with Grian’s feather. “Your power is rare. Angelic mages are always powerful, a power I crave. You will be a wonderful addition to my collection of magic. The last of the angels to complete my set!” 
A fearful shiver ricochets down Grian’s spine. “You’re going to turn me into a husk?” 
“Oh, gods no!” Dolios laughs, so loud that it echoes off the cavern walls as he throws his head back, brown curls dancing across rich fabric. “I wouldn’t dare waste such magic to become simple energy for me and my beast. No, no. Do not fret, little bird, you will become so much more. I don’t plan to drain your energy. I plan to steal it.” 
The hunger in Dolios’s eyes as he turns, the concoction in his hand, Grian realizes what he's seen all this time in Dolios’s eyes. Hunger. A madman hellbent on taking what he sees as rightfully his.. A predator stalking his prey. And Grian was cornered, pinned. Unable to fight back, unable to fly away. Fear is replaced by terror, a sensation Grian struggles to fight back. He needs to think clearly if he hopes to survive. 
“The last angel died before my powers were…” Grian pauses, seeing the coy smile on Dolios’s face. 
“I always had a-” Dolios pauses, waving his hand nonchalantly before marking the ground around the crystal spires with dark seal. “-fascination with angelic wizards. A dear friend of mine in my youth was one. Ever since then, I knew I had to have that kind of magic in my collection. So strong, each and every one of you. With magic even the ancient ones revered. And now?” 
Dolios steps back, casting his magic circle. Rather than emitting color and light, it absorbs all color to make the pattern of his magic. He raises his hands, and two satellite crystals awaken. Darkness swirls in the lattice of the gems, mist eeking out through pores and filling the cavern with darkness. When the mist reaches the seal surrounding the crystal Grian’s chained to, the spire behind him, pressed against his back, activates. The pressure on his body, his magic becomes unbearable, breaking into pain. Like a harpoon through his chest, the dark magic takes hold. Biting down, biting in. 
And slowly, agonizingly stealing his magic. So intrinsically tied to his soul, hsi lifeforce, it feels as if his very being is being dragged from every inch of his body in contact with the crystal. He writhes to escape the painful magic, but the bonds hold firm and he struggles to catch his breath. Dolios steps back, basking with ravished delight at the scene before him. Enjoying the pain that tears at Grian’s skin, soul, and spell. “Now the magic will soon be mine.”
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emilysarmstrong · 3 years ago
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THIS IS GONNA BE A RANT AND I'M ON MOBILE SO NO READMORE FOR Y'ALL, YE HAVE BEEN WARNED
We managed to go on a week long vacation with my gf's parents (in the house that belonged to her great-grandpa who won it on a game of cards, but that's another story) but god, at what cost
Our cat couldn't come with us on the grounds of my gf's mom being severely allergic, so we were waiting for The Roommate to come back so she could watch over her (and her own cat too), but after two weeks (of a supposedly ONE WEEK TRIP) she finally told us that she was only coming back TWO DAYS AFTER my gf's parents were supposed to be back so no fucking vacation for us I guess?
We wanted at least to spend a weekend away from this house that has been in the middle of a moving since GODDAMN MARCH full of boxes and trash everywhere, so we had everything set up for gf's uncle to come over and feed the cats for two days. Once we finally got to the vacation spot, The Roommate calls us to say that she got someone to watch the cats.
Time to drive ALL THE WAY BACK to relieve the aforementioned uncle from duty and bring our keys to the person who was supposed to watch the cats. Turns out it's this old judgy neighbour lady who was annoyed that we wanted to show her where the cat food and litter were, where we had made a neat pile of clean pet bowls and plates for them, the lists with how much and how many portions to feed them, our phone numbers... and then she got pissy because "[Roommate] said I only had to feed the cats once a day"
EXCUSE ME?
WHY DON'T YOU TRY TO SURVIVE ON ONE MEAL AND A SINGLE GLASS OF WATER A DAY, ELIZABETH?
Anyway we reiterated the importance of getting the cats fed and their water changed twice a day, and hoped The Roommate had chosen a dependable person to take care of the cats
*narrator's voiceover* turns out, in fact, that she hadn't
Roommate calls us two days later to say that the catsitter called her with her panties in a twist because there were maggots in the cat food and she had to toss it all away, that she was calling another lady to pick up the catsitting, that in the end the new lady was going to buy more cat food, and and and
WHOA MCFUCKING THERE, PARDNER
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE HAD TO THROW AWAY OUR CAT'S FOOD"
"It's okay, she handled it"
"But we have enough food, there's a metal box full of wet food and a full bag of kibble"
"It's okay, she handled it"
"We have to come back to town tomorrow to get our covid vaccine shots, if there's the need for more food we can stop by the pet shop on the way"
"It's okay, she handled it"
The gods gifted me with many virtues
Patience is not one of them
And at this point the gf was already restraining me to not yell at the phone, and we agreed on not stopping by on Monday to not stress the cats further with showing up and going away, and trusting the new caretaker, that had already watched over The Roommate's cat before, to not be a complete moron
We overestimated her
We came back today to find the new caretaker, who did not even invite us in for a coffee, all pissy about The Penny having bitten her this morning when "all I did was trying to pet her". She gave us back our keys and we walked into our apartment, where The Penny was already screaming her little lungs out
The apartment
Was
A
Mess.
Penny's litter box hadn't been cleaned, at all, ever since we left
She had one bowl of water instead of the two we had left
The tray we place her bowls on was FILTHY
And I don't know what the fuck was in her kibble bowl, but boy
It was NOT the kibble that we had prepared for the week and left in a glass jar right in front of the tray
We thought that was all, but nope! Walking into the kitchen made the nightmare even worse! The food that we had set aside for the cats, that the lady claimed was gone so fast because it was filling with maggots, was still sealed on the shelf with the little notes on how to portion it attached. We had laid out wet food for a week, of which not even HALF had been used, and The Roommate's cat's kibble didn't even seem to have been touched. Instead, there were two boxes and a bag of SHIT ASS cat food of a brand we had never seen before, full of grains and coloring and other bullshit, not to mention the bag of kibble for fixed cats. WE are responsible pet owners that fixed our baby as soon as she was old enough, but The Roommate refuses to do the same to her cat (that has been constantly in heat for a while, mind you) but feeds her kibble for sterilized cats. If you're wondering if this makes her cat underweight and low energy, well, BINGO! We had finally convinced her to change into better kibble, and this FUCKER comes around and buys this shit under the premise that "poor kitty cat had no food" while there were TWO BAGS IN THE KITCHEN AND PENNY'S JAR IN OUR ROOM
And the bowls. My good lord, the bowls.
Penny eats out of steel bowls that we wash after every meal, and the water one gets washed once a day. The Roommate isn't nearly as organized with her cat's stuff, but she keeps telling everyone who listens for at least ten seconds about how her cat's whiskers are particularly sensitive and therefore she cannot eat out of regular pet bowls (instead she keeps feeding the cat in plastic plates that only get washed once a blue moon but we'll get to that in another ranty post). We specified on the notes taped to the food shelf that she has to be fed on open plate, and what did the asshole do? WELL, OBVIOUSLY NOT THAT. She grabbed a random Penny bowl and filled it with kibble, another random Penny bowl and filled it with water. And completely ignored the tray we had laid out for the other cat, with her little plate and the wider water bowl, putting the "meal" she prepared on the kitchen counter instead
Unlike Penny's litter box, that hadn't seen a scoop since we left the house, the other cat's stuff had been cleaned. Once. And the bag with the litter trash was still open in the bathroom for everyone to see and smell, because obviously, it's not like the cat would maybe just maybe like to have a room that doesn't smell of her own fucking shit, specially if said room is right besides the one where she sleeps
Now it's the following morning and I'm still seething, I cannot believe the fucking audacity. We would happily (okay, maybe not happily, but we definitely would) skip the vacation if there was no one to watch the cats. They're little living creatures that need attention, and we happily provide when we're around. It's not a crime to say "I can't watch over your pets, sorry", it doesn't make you a horrible, rude, inconsiderate person. You know what does, though? ACCEPTING TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR SOMEONE'S PET AND DOING A SHIT ASS JOB OF IT
We laid out everything. We left clean bowls and plenty of kibble and wet food. We left clean scoops to clean their litter boxes. We explained everything and literally left a phone number taped to the food shelf in case they needed us for anything. Instead, the first bitch called The Roommate to complain and the second one just deadass did whatever the fuck she wanted (also I'm convinced that she was overfeeding the cats kibble and not giving them wet food to avoid maggots instead of, you know, sticking around until the cats finished eating and putting the food away when they did. Which means The Penny gained weight in this week, a LOT of it). And ignoring the things we had prepared and explained with so much care to 1) make their lives easier and 2) MAKE IT AS SAFE AND NOT STRESSFUL FOR THE CATS AS POSSIBLE.
We've been home for twelve hours and Penny still hasn't stopped being whiny, which I'm pretty sure is only partly because she is annoyed at us for spending a long time away, but also because she has been bored out of her mind, since these people act like cats are part of the furniture and don't need attention besides some horrible slop thrown into their food bowls. Our cat missed having play time with her wand toys, hanging out with us while we watch tv, eating together (obviously, her having a little bowl of cat food while we eat human food, that we do NOT give her because we aren't stupid), sleeping in the same bed. Of course you're not mandated to do that if you're just hopping by to check on the cats and give them food, but don't act like they're furniture and then get pissy when they try to bite you because they're under stimulated! CATS NEED TO HUNT, and if you don't provide a prey in the form of a toy they're gonna hunt your fucking fingers, and my only regret is that Penpen didn't rip that asshole's hand off
I don't think there is a point to this post, I'm just angry and annoyed and frustrated, but typing everything out in an angry rant is better than yelling and scaring my already sad toebean of a cat, I guess?
Anyway if you read all of this I'm sorry and have a picture of Her Catship The Penny Dreadful
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queenofnohr · 4 years ago
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okokok This Is What I Would Like To See. i dont think i will get All of it because that would be like a mcfucking grand slam out of the stadium but im manifesting Many Things so that Perhaps One Might Come True.
Tsuna and Ibaraki as siblings with Ibaraki’s bloodline rearing its head early on and her household mistreating her and EITHER it causing her to really lash out in self-defense and slaughter most of the household wherein tsuna comes back, realizes what happened, and either accidentally kills ibaraki’s mom (in the case of she herself not doing anything wrong) or mom is Bad and he has to make the decision between killing her or letting ibaraki die OR tsuna comes back, sees what’s happening and that causes his inhumanity/oni blood to take over and slaughter the household to defend ibaraki
(note: they dont have to be siblings BUT i live for fucked up siblings. sue me.)
in any case, ibaraki runs away probably like terrified of her brother, gets adopted by her “mom” and is raised as an oni. seeing tsuna not only stirs up the trauma of the incident, but also brings up broiling rage because in her head, it’s tsuna’s fault her happy life was taken away (mayhaps an opinion cultivated by her “””mom”””?)
meanwhile, tsuna is FUCKED from the incident no matter what happened. an entire household slaughtered and ibaraki gone to boot. whether bc of his bloodline, the inherent trauma of the incident, or some hell combination of both, his memories become a tangled web. he knows he needs to hunt down the oni that did this, but at the same time can’t quite place who that would be. just golden hair, ibaraki’s bloodline awakened, burned into his memory. he wants and needs to blame something or somebody for the tragedy, and so his mind pieces together fragments of the incident into a tale that makes sense. even though he protected ibaraki, he now hunts her.
the thing he wants to protect the most. the thing he needs to kill the most. all messed up in his mind.
both blaming each other when the original incident occurred out of love. both being unable to forgive each other. both unable to remember the Truth that lies therein. a tragedy among tragedies.
anyway i think it’d give depth to his “killing humans is harder than killing oni” bc of course it is. he physically cannot make himself do that because of the trauma incurred last time he was forced to turn his blade on a human.
also it would be GREAT since he gives kintoki so much shit for “being soft on the oni” in the chapter but if his entire fucking thing happened because he himself defended an oni? GOD.
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sweetsmalldog · 5 years ago
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Unexpected Miricles
Warnings: Swearing, Hallmark Movies mentioned
Description: Sometimes the Universe changes plans
Author’s note: This is my secret Santa gift to @dying-by-fangirling ❤️
Zazzalil glared at the old oak door. They were snowed in. Their date was ruined! And she was going to propose tonight! Fuck whatever god had messed this up! She was going to fight them herself!
Jemilla hummed in the kitchen as she made breakfast trying not to let her frustration show. She had planned on proposing tonight! Now their day long date wasn’t going to happen! She could still make today special though!
Zazzalil ran threw ideas. She didn’t want to postpone. She could make this romantic! Maybe some slow music? Make dinner? She could do this!
They spent most of the day lazing around relaxing, watching old Christmas specials, and enjoying warm drinks (tea for Jemilla and hot chocolate for Zaz). The fire crackling while they curled up under a soft flannel blanket with their cat, Snarl, curled on the chair nearby purring up a storm.
“I never realized how creepy this movie was,” Jemilla murmured as the elves started singing. Her hand brushed Zazzalil’s.
“But elf practice,” Zazzalil smirked knowing full well what Jemilla thought of that meme.
“I hate you.” Jemilla said though her eyes told a very different story, “I hate you and your elf practice.”
Zazzalil kissed her cheek “You love me.”
Jemilla kissed her back without hesitation, “Maybe.”
Zazzalil took a second to admire Jemilla’s face is the firelight. How the orange glow caught her hair. How she tapped her mug absentmindedly.
They stayed like that for hours. Together and warm as cheesy Hallmark movies and Christmas specials played. Frosty, Rudolph, A Year Without a Santa Claus, A Christmas Melody, A Christmas Prince, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, then A Charlie Brown Christmas came on.
Jemilla stood as Christmas Time is Here started to play “May I have this dance?”
Zazzalil smiled as she took Jemilla’s hand “Of course.”
Christmas Time is here
Zazzalil put her head on Jemilla’s shoulder and looked up at her. God she was gorgeous.
Happiness and cheer
Jemilla smiled down at Zazzalil. The firelight caught her eyes so they glowed. She wanted to marry Zazzalil. The ring felt heavy in her robe pocket.
Fun for all that children call
Snarl brushed against Zazzalil’s legs but she paid him no mind. Sorry dude she thought I’m mentally getting ready to propose.
Their favorite time of the year
Snow had started to fall again outside. The cool glow seeping threw the window and showering Jemilla in its beauty. Making her look like some otherworldly queen of winter who spared Zazzalil out of the goodness of her heart.
Snowflakes in the air
Zazzalil double checked that she still had Jemilla’s ring. Thank god she did. The blue sapphire glittered on the silver band, Jemilla complained about the diamond industry a lot and Zazzalil had figured she wouldn’t want her wedding ring to be a product of that.
Carols everywhere
Jemilla felt it when the ring box hit her leg. The gold band with a small fire opal. Zazzalil’s fascination with fire made the stone appropriate, and the diamond industry was incredibly unethical. Gold because of how beautiful Zazzalil looked in it, like a sun goddess above the mere mortals below.
Olden times and ancient rhymes
Jemilla could do this! She could get down on one knee and ask the most important question of her life to the woman she loved with her whole heart.
Of love and dreams to share
Zazzalil could do this! She could ask the most amazing woman in existence to marry her!
Sleigh bells in the air
Jemilla pressed a soft kiss to Zazzalil’s lips. Their soft and she tasted like hot chocolate.
Beauty everywhere
“I love you,” Zaz smiled up at her eyed full of adoration.
Yuletide by the fireside
Jemilla dropped to her knee “Then will you make me the happiest woman in existence?”
“Jemilla,” She looked shocked. Wait had Jemilla fucked up? Was Zazzalil not ready? Oh god!
And joyful memories there
Zazzalil pulled a ring out of her plaid shirt pocket “I was gonna ask you asshole.”
Jemilla broke out into a laugh as she was filled with relief “Will you marry me?”
Zazzalil dragged her up and pulled her into a searing kiss. That was a solid yes in Jemilla’s book.
Taglist: @robertstanion @gone-to-oregone @haniawritesthings @agent-megagirl @purplegori @showstoppingnumbrr @imtooaromanticforthis @gayrudeboys @thatweriddoodlingllama @bi-gstupid @supreme-overlord-bubbles @meredithandlaurenaremyqueens @semoka @renegadepear @are-those-real-gators @ready-to-mcfucking-die @debthestoner @charlie-bean @craphole-is-lord @oh-my-duck-lord
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consolecadet · 5 years ago
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This is mostly notes for myself, but feel free to read if you want a far too detailed dissection of which of my organ systems are working
TLDR it’s mostly good news
Back: Still not good, per se, but I’ve gone from being able to sit for half an hour w/o pain to being able to sit for much longer. Not sure how much longer -- it may not be indefinitely, but I haven’t hit my limit often lately, which is great. Now that my cold is mostly gone, my core isn’t exhausted from protecting me from my incessant coughing, and that seems to have helped a lot.
Lungs: My cold is mostly gone, but not completely gone...I am still too asthmatic/cough-y to do aerobic exercise without feeling like I’m going to mcfucking die, which sucks, but I know I’ll probably be back to normal lung-misery levels within the month, so I’m not too worried.
Knees: Still fucked, but much less fucked since I changed how I get into my car. If I bothered to ice them regularly I might be able to swing a full, speedy recovery, but I don’t really have the executive function for that rn. I’m sticking to doing some knee PT and might start doing KT tape again soon, and I think once I can get back on the bike my legs will get strong enough that this becomes a non-issue or close to it
Mouth: I ate a single blueberry yesterday and the skin got slurped right into my cracked tooth, so clearly I have to be paying more attention than I was before. I am dreading whatever my dentist decides he needs to do to said cracked tooth. I did learn yesterday that my family’s dental insurance has caps for each individual person on the plan, rather than a collective cap for all of us, so even though my parents have both maxed out theirs, mine is still fine because the only dental work I’ve had done so far this year is cleanings. So it’ll suck physically and psychologically, but not financially. Least I can ask for.
Sleep: Meh. I’m like 95% off Ambien and Ativan, and now that I can lie on either side, I can. . .kind of sleep? If I bring the humidifier down and actually remember to fill it I’ll probably be fine.
Upper GI: I’m so fucked. I’m 5 days into tapering from famotidine 20mg to famotidine 10mg, and the heartburn is real. And almost everything I really like putting in my face is, uh, acidic or gives me problems. Tomato products? Coffee? Seltzer with lime juice in it? Like all fruit ever? Onions and garlic? Ugh. I think I’ll adjust to the 10mg dosage, but I was planning on starting the taper off that a week from today and I am Afraid. I’m still so pissed about all of this, because I really did not need to be on a long-term antacid in the first place, and I was suspicious about it from day 1. I should, no pun intended, have listened to my gut, but I trusted this doctor more than I should have. Will be doing more research about future prescriptions.
Lower GI: She’s............alive. She’s unpredictable. She’s flighty. She doesn’t seem to care if I eat dairy or not, which is a blessing. But she wants all my time, and any fool knows that the inability to tolerate a moment of inattention from one’s partner is a classic red flag for codependency. I need my space!
Urinary tract: I literally feel like G-d themself heard my desperate prayer to not have a UTI or whatever and decided to take miraculous pity on me and reach in there and pluck the problem right out of my sad little bladder. I cannot articulate how relieved I am.
Fatigue and executive function: Slightly better. I attribute this pretty much entirely to other things being slightly better.
Thyroid: I have...suspicions. Again.
Brain: ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
In conclusion, I feel Less Bad, and I’m very excited about that because I feel like I can see endpoints for some things where before I saw intractable, unpredictable misery. However, I do not by any means feel Good.
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sparto-i · 8 years ago
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Soul character analysis?
hoooo BOY you better buckle in because he is my favorite gotdam character and i have a lot of things to say about this boy
first off, let’s start out with a summary so ppl who don’t wanna read 4,000 words can still get something outta this: 
soul is a bit of an anomaly with his characterization in the beginning being VASTLY different from his characterization in the end: overall, he’s gone through the most change out of any character in the series. starting off, he was highly insecure and defensive, which likely could be the result of growing up under scrutiny: i have every reason to believe soul’s upbringing was not colorful or happy, but rather harsh and rigid. this is reflected in his desperation to scramble for an identity in the beginning (i have some theories about that). his turning point is when he’s infected with the black blood and begins to have more and more conversations with the Little Ogre- which made a few observations about him: he’s insecure. unsure. nothing like his partner. as the series progresses, he begins to gain confidence and lose that desperation to fit into a certain box and really starts to come into his own. he gains confidence in his abilities to think and analyze, as well as his abilities to support others. this shows his truly kind-hearted nature: a cool dude wouldn’t be a total jackass, right?
now for the REAL party (after the readmore)
just a warning, there will be a lot of mentions of mental illness (especially when it comes to his self-image) and unhealthy family relationships. if i need to add anything else to the warnings, please let me know!
let’s start off with soul’s past:
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it’s a well-known fact that he comes from a rich, successful family of musicians- which is something he seems to be trying to forget. soul drops all of the aspects of his past life: he hides his skill and love for the piano, as well as redacting his last name entirely. again, this is common knowledge in the fandom by now. when he discovered he was a weapon, he took the chance to drop the Evans’s family tradition of producing musicians and started a new life.
but why? it’s never explicitly said that his home was a bad environment for him, only that he felt pressure to continue to uphold the esteemed family’s reputation. growing up under such a big shadow would produce that reaction in just about anyone. perhaps it’s soul’s running away that’s the most telling aspect of his life pre-DWMA. not only does he book it out of his home and into Nevada, but he completely tries to erase everything he was- the Wiki page on him states, “Memories of his past still affect him emotionally, so much so that he prefers to forget them entirely.” Pressure to be successful, while extremely stress-inducing, wouldn’t likely make him like this, unless his family was actively exerting this pressure on him. If his parents had reassured him that he didn’t have to fill in their shoes, he probably wouldn’t have run away, but would have rather gotten permission to enter the DWMA as per his request. But, that’s not what happened. 
parents who live vicariously through their children put them through a lot of stress and oftentimes, that results in the child feeling unable to live up to their expectations, which turns into a low self-esteem complex. the child will either try hard to live up to those expectations, or give up entirely: soul chose the latter. as for his self-esteem, you can see this just about anywhere: he often compares himself to other people. he compares himself to his brother when it comes to his music skill, and he compares his abilities as a weapon to that of Giriko and Justin, both of whom can fight proficiently without a meister.
so, soul evans left his home and his name behind, ready to re-invent himself into the total antithesis of what he was going to be raised to be. which leads us into…
the image of ‘coolness’
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soul’s beginning personality and appearance is the most well-known- a laid back, chill dude that worshiped the idea of “coolness”. during this stage, he was impulsive like Maka was, but for entirely different reasons: where maka would often act on emotion, soul would try to take shortcuts to get things done a lot quicker- this is shown in the first chapter when he tries to full-on charge through blair’s window instead of coming up with some sort of battle tactic. this is also in-line with the typical cool guy archetype- the guy that doesn’t take any shit from anyone, and who doesn’t think before he acts because only un-cool nerdasses do that. when an event occurs that makes Soul seem anything other than detached and in-charge, he clearly notes how “uncool” the situation is in an attempt to save face. noting soul’s typical personality during combat situations (i.e. advising maka to keep her guard up, seeing situations about five steps ahead, stressing the importance of plans), the moments of impulsive behavior he does have seems rather forced.
his past easily explains why he does this: he doesn’t want to be like his family. he isn’t soul evans, he’s soul eater. his insecurity caused by a rigid upbringing turns him to over-compensate by building this “cool guy” image, which is also the epitome of ‘Western Masculinity’. 
here comes the speculation piece: while i don’t believe you need to justify trans headcanons with explanations to make them valid, soul’s narrative illustrates a very familiar one: a lot of trans kids who are first starting out often over-compensate to try to mold themselves into the cis-normative perceptions of gender in society. i definitely remember my first year of my transition, trying every which way to look and talk different, walk different, like different things, even changing the way i sat down: since i was trans, i felt that i had to over-compensate and make up for my transness. soul’s over-compensation when trying to be and act “cool” definitely parallels that.
as time goes on, Soul begins to come into his own, after the first Crona encounter gave him yet another pair of eyes to criticize him:
The Little Ogre
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the circumstances in which he earned this pest serve as the catalyst for his change in personality. trying to protect Maka from Ragnarok after she’d refused to use soul to block the hits from the sword, he became gravely injured and infected with the Black Blood. it’s after this that his maturity begins to show, but isn’t quite as apparent until the Kishin Revival arc, and the Little Ogre is introduced. 
through the series, the Little Ogre serves as an internal conflict for Soul, harping on him through all of his decisions: he’s too patient, he plans too often, he’s too scared, he’s too anxious, he holds back too much. all of this are feelings that soul knew he had, but never had them pointed out (likely because he never confided in anyone about these issues). this causes Soul to try to prove the Little Ogre wrong by either doing the opposite of what he’s being criticized for, or carry on what he’s doing and try to be successful while doing it. considering soul’s past and his lack of motivation due to being pushed too hard, it’s strange to see the Ogre’s insults actually motivate him: but, perhaps since this conflict is internal, and the Ogre is a facet of his mind, he sees the end goal as less of an unattainable one and more of something to work towards. one of the criticisms that really got to him, though, was that he was lacking in something really big:
the courage his meister had
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(yikes that was a really bad segue)
it’s easy to see that maka and soul were created to be two sides of the same coin- opposite. soul’s eyes are red, while maka’s are green- they’re contrasting colors. soul’s soul (i never wanna use that phrase again) is blue, while maka’s is orange, which are, again, contrasting colors. their approaches to battle are vastly different, as well. maka acts on emotion, on what seems like the best option at that very second, rather than detailed observation. soul, being the weapon, observes the situation from every angle, keeping calm in most situations so that he can think a way out of any predicament: a great way to balance out his impulsive technician.
however, it’s his tendency to overthink that holds him back. the Ogre had commented that he makes decisions by way of elimination, not daring to act until the only logical path is an option. there aren’t many examples in which this messes up maka’s or his ability to fight: after all, maka is a very smart girl. but, soul’s inability to act affects him personally. he’s shown to have no direction in his life or conviction of his own, which is probably left-over effects from his life as an Evans. after all, if every moment of his life was planned, how was he ever to learn that he had a will of his own?
it was the courage maka had that motivated Soul to take some direction in his life. in fact, she’s the reason he does a lot of things. albeit indirectly and in no way to blame, maka was the reason he was infected with the Black Blood- he’d acted impulsively and out of emotion in order to fulfill his duty as a weapon: to protect. soul was a source of sage advice for maka, someone who would see the plan out to ensure their safety at all times. maka, in turn, was a source of courage and motivation for soul.
it’s this dynamic that pushes both of them forward, up until they finally achieve the goal of creating a death scythe:
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while i could go on and talk about all of the facets of his character, from his strong friendship with blackstar, to his struggles in the book of eibon , this analysis is already mcfucking essay length lmao
if anyone requests a part two tho, i’ll most definitely do it
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survivor-marianas-trench · 7 years ago
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“Catherine” - EPISODE 3
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Honestly I'm me believing Seamus when he tells me everyones voting for Shea and I end up putting some cocky ass confessional that looks absolutely dumb now because he didn't go. I'm. Just. Sad. I should've known better whew. Anyway I need a swap or something, like I need new people and ones that actually wanna form solid alliances because literally nothing is happening here and I'm too eager to just sit around...Anyway...Send help...And wish me luck.
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my game consists of nothing but doing what amanda & kait tell me to do.. D: im sorry i'm a flop i've just been real busy....if i make it to merge i'll start playing then
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My tribe is doing that. I survived our first tribal council, and got myself into a majority. I literally told everyone they're the only person I talk to lol I love people quitting like honestly my aesthetic is people leaving without me having to do anything. Who's next?!
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So I went from winning two immunities to getting second to last! Ahaha at least I might not look like a threat! Right after rhea was announced as immune I went to working making sure I was safe I talked to rob, Amanda, rhea, kait and Emma to get Steven out! If all goes well I'll be safe and we can move on to the next challenge 
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Honestly this Matilda thing isn't so bad. 1, I'm in Chicago so it's hard to participate depending on the challenge. 2, as long as the vote goes as planned this time having everyone vulnerable for the next ones allows my alliance to vote out who we want. Seamus should be going tonight which makes me sad because he is really cool and awesome to talk to. But because of the reactions from last vote it's the best move. Hopefully the game changers continue to dominate. But ya never know with this game. 
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WHEW me getting out in the first round? I believe it. Relatable content. I'm so hungover and I don't have the patience to figure out the vote. I think it's Seamus, but I need to check in with people, but I'm also trying to not fucking vomit. 
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Alright so I'm kinda sad I flopped in the challenge, both winning/losing it....And now no matter what we're all vulnerable next round thanks to the lovely Matilda so everything is just lovely. On the bright side Kait told me she found the idol so Queen! As of right now I think I'm in a good spot and as far as I know the vote is between Shea and Seamus. I really want Shea to go because I trust Seamus! Like he really got screwed over last vote and I'm shocked people handled that so poorly!? Like don't make people believe something's the vote when it's not!?!? I literally thought he knew about the split but then Lily told me she didn't tell him about it and just let him vote Shea like......Why would you do that...So now I'm a bit nervous about Lily but I think I can trust her for now. That's about it for now but I'm gonna try everything I can to make sure Seamus isn't caught in the crosshairs here.
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so last round these mcfucking liars of tribemates told me they were all voting shea but then voted veronica and didnt tell me :/ so i kinda had to play catch up and guilt a few of them so they wouldnt target me this week. i believe again that sheais going home this week but im p sure im getting some votes
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So it sounds like shea is going tonight? Which is cool with me because he hasn't been talking to me much recently. I wasn't sure about Seamus because of how the last vote went but it seems like Seamus and I are good. I just don't want any flippers going into a merge tbh. Haha. But honestly people will flip shit will go down and we just wanna go in with the best tribe possible. Also this Matilda thing? Might actually be okay if we have the same tribes tomorrow. I'm worried we will have a tribe swap and all of the tasi people won't be able to get immunity so we will all get voted out. I'm glad I don't have to do a challenge while I'm in Chicago tho so that's good. Hopefully everything works out and I don't get too much anxiety. 
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9MGnRX900w&feature=youtu.be
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I think I orchestrated my first vote ever and it was amazing. I got out Sam, screw him, he's the worst and I bet he didn't care about the game. Now I want Steven gone, cause... who's Steven? He seems snealy too. I think I might go too, so I'm not cocky.
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I hate everyone still. This tribe is boring AF. Rob goes and tells everyone last night about his plan to vote Steven this vote, which is fine by me bc I didn't even know there was a Steven on our tribe!!!!! However like Darian and Amandie (they will be referred to as that from here on out) came to me about it also after. So okay Rob I see you leaving me out until TODAY!!!' Freak. Anyways, I'm fine with him thinking he's some kind of kingpin for now til I decide I'm tired of doing what I'm told hehehe
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So I won immunity!! https://media2.giphy.com/media/1ofR3QioNy264/200.webp#4 I can't believe I actually won an immunity! And so, here I am just like,  https://media4.giphy.com/media/qGmYKpdCVoXu0/200.webp#8 I don't like that Darian is calling all the shots! https://media.giphy.com/media/vouHgfse1v7cA/giphy.gif I want him to go soon, but I forsee him easily making the merge which scares me. 
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I CAN FINALLY VOTE!!!!! London Tipton voice "YAY ME" *clap clap*
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So I go to do the deep challenger thing and....they say get past level 4 on what's inside the box. I was like okay, but then I realize, I played this game literally yesterday for fun and I was like oh okay, and then I realize I chose some pussy shit lol
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From what I can tell...The plan is to leave Kelsey out of the loop which is so stupid. I don't know why these people want to ostracize so many people from votes like they did it with Seamus last vote with no valid reason!?!? I know Kelsey felt sympathy for Shea last vote which is making people nervous so that makes a little bit more sense but like...I just don't feel comfortable leaving people out of the loop? Ugh. This is just too much. 
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Okay so my confessionals have sucked and I'm sorry. Lily, Liana, Dan, and I are all in an alliance and we've decided who's getting voted out every round and this time we'e going for Shea. Last time he got wind that his name was being thrown out there even though it was the decoy name and he went OFF!! LIKE HE WAS CRAZY FREAKING OUT AT EVERYONE! And during the first vote he was throwing out EVERYONE'S name! He threw out mine, Christine's, and Carson's and those are just the ones that I heard about. Who knows who else he was saying. So his messy ass has got to go. I think we might be swapping soon and I don't want to get stuck with someone who's going to throw me under the bus the first second they get to save themselves. So I also got to go to that Challenger Deep thing. IT FUCKING SUCKED! I HATED IT! I picked level 25 because I think hey that's pretty deep and the deeper you go the harder the challenge but the bigger prize! TOO BAD THE PRIZES WAS A FUCKING PUNISHMENT! Now no one from my tribe can compete in the immunity challenge next time and I feel awful. If we stay in these tribes then it'll make it easier to just vote out Kelsey but if it's a swap we're all fucked because of it.
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I....Might've caved and told Kelsey the plan. If this backfires.....I'm dead. I just felt so bad like Kelsey didn't deserve to be left out, you know? Don't let me down Kelsey, don't let me down.
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Im just doing this so I dont get a strike
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Girl. Hold my hair...this week was too much. Coming off of Veronica's elimination, I was feeling so good for Shea and I. It seemed like we have finally found some leverage in the competition and I was ready to run with it. However, when I checked in today and saw a severe lack of people wanting to talk strategy, I knew something was up. Winning immunity was amazing and I don't regret that for a second but I think it softened my reaction time a little bit. I think the biggest challenge for me in this game is actually pushing myself out there. I'm usually very confident in my facade of being a harmless player letting me be subtle in my moves but I don't think that's the case at all anymore. If you don't speak up, you're outspoken and...that showed this week. It's a deadly balance that you have to find and on the tribe this week, it just didn't work for me. Originally, Shea wanted to do Seamus but lil' ol me thought we could get out another person who's a threat such as Liana since Seamus still makes an effort to talk to me. When it came to the votes and convincing others...not many people wanted to strategize with me and that was a definite problem. The only people who kept it real with me- or shall I say person- was Catherine. (Host Note: Whom??) THAT is something I appreciate more than anything. I thought that Lily would but unfortunately she was "out" the whole day. Girl...get a grip. Catherine (???) would definitely be the only person I cling to in the competition IF we were still together but...we. Merged. DEAR JESUS AND LORD ABOVE, THANK THE HEAVENS!!! I know I'm not going to be able to win immunity, but at this point, I could care less. This is definitely something that came at just the right time. I was at the bottom of my tribe and I know a few people are still going to be coming after me, especially coming off of my immunity win. However, I'm giving this week everything that I've got. While I doubt more and more I was the real mastermind of eliminating Veronica, the reason why I was prominent in that elimination was because I was bold. Not aggressive, just bold. I think if I can harness that quality again, I can breakthrough another one. Tasi is OVER, darling. Liana is already fuming despite her attempts to cover it up. There are people from Tasi that I bet will never talk to me again now that we're merged. Everything I want, I've definitely got to work myself for. Basically, it's what I expected it to be being a new player; it's me working for myself now. Now's the part where veterans who know each other and people with connections outside of this game start linking back up. It's up to me to start really wedging myself in. I want to give people a reason to vote out anyone BUT me. And at this point, now that Shea's gone, I'm going Open Season on all of these hookers. Miracles are hard to do, but if I did it once, I can do it again. I REALLY want to show these people what I can do. I came to slash throats, save my family and wear ugg boots. And if I have to do it from scratch? Christina, bring me the axe; NAAAAAOOO!!!! Wish me luck! Sincerely, Canada's Self Proclaimed Favourite; Kelsey Mikaelson~! 
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sweetsmalldog · 5 years ago
Text
Opposites Attract pt 8
Part 7 Part 1
Warnings: nothing
Description: Final Chapter baby!!!
Author Note: I’ve finally finished a multi chapter!
Months had gone by and Owen was still hopelessly in love. Curt’s smile had driven him mad. Then they got sent to fucking Paris together! He was gonna lose it!
Then they find out their sharing a hotel room! How is he going to hide his unrequited love now?
He’s currently sitting alone on their secluded balcony, the sun is going to start to set soon and would cast the city in a golden glow.
He hears the door behind him open, revealing Curt. Curt’s who’s hair is damp and who isn’t wearing a shirt. God he’s gorgeous.
“You want a drink?” Curt asks as he holds up a bottle of wine.
“You didn’t bring any glasses,” Owen says.
“I was thinking we could share the bottle,” Curt smiles awkwardly “I can get some glasses if you want though.”
Owen feels his face flush “It’s ok, we can share.”
Curt’s smile brightens. Owen isn’t staring at Curt’s chest because he’s not a damn pervert. In all honest he’s studying Curt’s face. The way his eyes fill with pride as he gets the cork out. The way the sunset reflects in his dark hair. The soft smirk on his lips.
“You want to drink first?” Curt questions.
Owen blinks before smiling “You got the bottle open.”
“I did.” Curt agrees before taking the first drink.
Curt hands him the bottle. The white wine is sweeter then he’d usually chose but it isn’t bad. He gives the bottle back. The sun now casting Curt in a golden glow. He looks almost otherworldly.
Curt takes another drink of the wine. They continue until they empty the bottle. They’re both a bit buzzed. The sun has set. The stars twinkle above them.
They just stare up at the stars together. The sounds of the city in the distance. But here it’s still. Then Curt shivers.
“Maybe we should head inside?” Owen suggests.
Curt nods. The hotel room is much warmer then outside.
“I’ll make dinner,” Owen says “You should sit.”
“No no it’s ok,” Curt protests “You made dinner last mission.”
“Curt it’s fine go sit,” Owen insists and for once in his damn life Curt listens to him.
He makes something simple. Their both tired even though Owen is well aware Curt’s much more tired then himself.
Curt puts a shirt on and Owen grabs a blanket and another bottle of wine before they head back to the balcony. The stars seem even brighter.
They share the bottle again. Curt’s weaker alcohol tolerance showing threw. He’s not drunk but Owen would probably describe him as tipsy.
“You want the last drink?” Owen asks him.
“Yes!” Curt smiles “I love you.”
Owen freezes “What?”
Wait what? Did Curt just say that he loved him!
Curt realizes what he said and his face goes bright red as he suddenly runs inside.
“Curt!” Owen goes after him. Were they both idiots? Did Curt really like him back?
Curt almost manages to get to the bathroom before Owen grabs his arm. Not hard enough to hurt but strong enough that Curt couldn’t run and would talk to him.
“I’m sorry,” Curt says not meeting his eyes, “Can we pretend that never happened?”
“Did you mean it?” Owen questions.
Curt’s face goes even redder and in a softer voice then he’s ever heard from Curt he goes “Yes.”
His chest fills with warmth. Curt likes him back!
“Owen I’m sorry,” Curt chokes out “I understand if you want a new par-“
“I love you too,” Owen cuts him off because why would he want anyone else then Curt?
It’s Curt’s turn to freeze at that “What?”
“I love you too.” Owen says again before coming closer to Curt “Can I kiss you?”
Curt’s eyes widen in surprise “Yes.”
Owen presses their lips together. They kiss until they can’t breath anymore and pull apart gasping for breath. Then Curt kisses him back.
Taglist: @robertstanion @gone-to-oregone @haniawritesthings @eboy-butch @agent-megagirl @purplegori @showstoppingnumbrr @imtooaromanticforthis @gayrudeboys @thatweriddoodlingllama @bi-gstupid @supreme-overlord-bubbles @meredithandlaurenaremyqueens @semoka @renegadepear @are-those-real-gators @ready-to-mcfucking-die @debthestoner @charlie-bean @craphole-is-lord @oh-my-duck-lord
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