#shouting speaks

[definitelynotshouting]

we've sunk to new lows boys i thought a pic of my friend's dog in a hoodie was some niche pearlescentmoon fanart

#shouting speaks #pearlescentmoon #IM CRYINGG SMTH ABT THE MAVY HOODIE AND BRIGHT BLUE EYE COMBO GOT ME BEFORE I *REALIZED* #I TRULY CANT DEFEND THIS THE MCYT BRAINROT IS JUST *THAT* STRONG #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

*glances up from shoving my hands into hauntingly neutral Speaker concepts* you got any worldbuilding you wants to talk about? I’m love worldbuilding

Okay i let this one percolate for a little bit bc i didnt immediately have anything i could like, coherently speak abt at the time, but i do actually think this could be interesting for yall to hear???

So in hunger au, the universe is quasi-sentient, and all the entities within it (Players, Watchers, Listeners, even Seekers when they were still alive) are like... its fruiting bodies, if we wanna put it in fungal terms, so to speak. Entities are the universe's way of exploring, understanding, and experiencing itself; because of this, everything is connected to it via the Greater Code in some capacity. (For newly Spawned Players especially, this connection is very deep and strong-- its what teaches them how to survive, how to function on their own; its what urges them to make that first crafter and begin playing the game, to learn and to keep learning. I've likened it before to something of a mental umbilical cord, of sorts, that fades over time as the Player emerges into their own.)

The point here though is that everything in the universe is the universe, and is therefore technically the universe speaking to itself, over and over and over again, in many different voices.

Which means that, functionally, there is only one native language in this universe.

This doesnt mean multiple languages dont exist, but the thing is, theyre all conlangs!! Language is in itself a form of play-- its not uncommon at all for Players to develop their own languages, unique dialects, and body-language that are all very server(or even individual)-specific

I dont really have a name for this universal language (frankly id probably just borrow it from galactic; as i told @/raichett when it came up in dms the other night, my skills really do not lie in making conlangs atm 😂😂😂😂😂) but i thought that would be fun to toss out there for you guys to munch on as i edit hunger au chap 10 :] thanks for asking!!!

#shouting speaks #asks #hunger au #minecraft worldbuilding #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

having a snuggable animal in your home is like a constant minigame of ancestral persistence hunting, every morning this beast is getting yoinked from various parts of the house to indulge our daily ritual of bringing him back to bed for cuddling purposes. im like the doom guy in hell meme but instead of ronald reagan im looking for my cat

#shouting speaks #cats #sometimes he comes to us actually #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

the fact that desert duo had the opportunity to emote in game and the first thing they did was hug is doing cocomelon shit to my head rn

#desert duo #goodtimeswithscar #grian #traffic series #real life spoilers #april fools #IM SO VISCERALLY UNWELL RN #shouting speaks #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

tbh im normally an "i wanna see my blorbos Win™" type of guy but the grian dmv-slash-permit-office arc has pulled out such unanticipated levels of "i want that twink OBLITERATED" within me that ive transformed into the emotional equivalent of wile e. coyote every time i watch him. like i need to see him outsmarted guys. hes so fucking smug in his videos that the urge to start ordering ACME-brand Contraptions™ and chase him around with them is haunting my dreams. joel taking out his sword for a crit when grian put him on hold was so satisfying i almost passed out from the headrush. never have i ever wanted comeuppance in my favorite blorbos SO FUCKING BADLY i hope he keeps doing this bit forever and gets bonked over the head with hammers for it every single time

#shouting speaks #grian #hermitcraft #hermitcraft s10 #this is the single most simultaneously infuriating and entertaining thing i have ever seen this man do im infatuated abt it #im so obsessed with him. what the FUCK is ur deal #joe hills if ur out there im begging for the world's most malicious of compliances rn #i need to see him SWEAT #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE OF SECRET LIFE!!!!!

so i sped-wrote this as soon as i learned who the winner was this morning, tried to post it twice, tumblr mobile deleted it BOTH TIMES... but i will not be silenced ive finally gone to desktop /silly

this will go up on my rough draft pseud soon, but until then please enjoy the results of me being EXTREMELY unwell about the secret life finale. WOOOOOO WE ARE POPPING THE BIGGEST OF BOTTLES TODAY FR!!!!!!!!!!!

Grian barricades himself at the top of the highest tower of Tango's citadel the moment he wakes up. It's a calculated move, admittedly. There are a precious few places one might still find him if he truly wants to hide, but the Deep Frost Citadel isn't one of them— and with the second Decked Out coming to a ceremonious close, foot traffic here is perilously low. Dawn is a swift-approaching knife on the horizon, and Grian soars above it all, face numb with chill wind, wings brazen and feathers strewn across an empty sky.

He doesn't want to be near when Scar wakes. And he doesn't want to be found just yet, either. Oh, Scar will track him down. Of that, he has no doubt— but for now, Grian takes solace in the snow crunching underfoot as he locks himself inside this barren tower.

It's dark here, which suits Grian just fine. He doesn't bother lighting a lantern; instead, he huddles right on the floor, letting the ice seep through him. From here, he can just make out the sky as it lightens, bringing with it the dawn of a new victor. Nausea boils in his throat. With that victory comes a price, and Scar— And Grian— Well. Grian hasn't treated him very well throughout the games, now, has he?

He curls in on himself even further, feathers brushing along the length of his chilled arms. Each hair stands at attention, in some vain effort to pull warmth from the surrounding freeze— when he scrubs a hand along his arm, his fingers shake, and the gooseflesh remains stark and raised against his skin.

There was a sand-drenched point when the concept of warmth was all he could register— scorching wind scraping the cut on his cheek, the scarlet splatter of blood across split knuckles. And like the steady drain of life from a corpse, that warmth has drawn away, poison from a putrid wound— it leaves him compacting this cold, this loneliness, to mold it into four high walls around his heart; a fitting tribute to every grain of trust he's rightfully lost. Grian huffs the barest traces of a bitter laugh as his breath mists in the air. A better man would meet Scar at his base, extend his support, no matter how icily it might be met.

But Grian is selfish, and a coward, and will always be a coward— and so instead he sits, marrow freezing, with only the thin garrotte of paltry sunlight wrapping itself around his tender throat to keep him company.

And there he stays, motionless, for long enough that the chill makes a home in him— the glistening, pale yolk of the sun warns him of the passing time, a watery heat that counts down the seconds to minutes to hours until Scar finds him. Grian curls his wings around himself, a pitiful embrace, and waits.

Two hours later, the whistle of rocket-propelled elytra warn him of incoming company. Grian doesn't bother fleeing; he knows Scar, and Scar knows him, and with this last, missing puzzle piece finally slotting into place between them, he's under no illusions that staying hidden for long is feasible. Grian's eyes skitter to a crack on the far wall as clumsy footsteps scatter the snow outside, scrabbling for balance before the muted click of a cane joins them. Footsteps; another, louder click— the door's latch gives way, and a brief, blinding wave of light crashes over Grian's face, obscuring everything but the outline of a painfully familiar silhouette.

Grian has to look away. The door shuts, and for a small moment, neither of them so much as breathe.

Then Scar's sighs— one great, resigned gust. "Grian...."

He says nothing else. He doesn't have to. Grian draws his legs up to his chest in response anyway, heart a frozen pump bleeding ice into his very veins. What can he say? An apology? They're past apologies, now— if Scar wanted to disavow him forever, take the crumpled remains of their friendship and throw it at his feet, he'd be right to do so.

But Scar doesn't shout; neither does he leave. Instead, his cane taps forward, boots sliding into Grian's line of vision— and, with a grunt of effort, Scar eases himself down, until he's sitting at a safe diagonal from Grian's hunched form.

Neither of them say anything for a while.

Eventually, Grian licks his lips. They're chapped from cold, thin and ready to split. "Hi, Scar," he says softly. It comes out weak, thready— a barely-there declaration. Whatever Scar wants here... he can take it. It's the very least Grian can do at this point.

From the corner of his eye, he watches Scar settle, shifting his weight before he lands on something approximating comfort. He takes his time with it, blind— or uncaring— to the erratic snarl of Grian's pulse. His voice is just as quiet when he responds. "So... that's it, then, huh."

Grian glances over properly before he can stop himself, stomach churning; Scar's gaze has slipped to the cutout acting as a window, middle-distant and lost. Locked on something only he can see. Then Scar shakes himself, an abrupt jerk of his head and shoulders, and that glassy look turns to pin Grian directly to the wall behind him instead. "Just like that?"

Grian's fingers tighten around his knees. "Just like that," he agrees, hollow.

Scar mulls that over for a moment. His sigh is a wisp of white in front of them, crystallizing in the glacial atmosphere. "Jeez," he says finally, scrubbing one hand through the tangled bird's nest of his hair. He must have flown across half the server as soon as he... remembered, Grian realizes with a visceral pang. "I didn't... that's a lot of memories to just, um, gain back on a dime, huh?"

Grian darts a sidelong glance at him. Shifts his wings until their primaries lower, sweeping the ground around his feet like a feathered cat's cradle. "I wouldn't know," he says, a quirk of black humor dancing around the edges of his mouth. He swallows. "Since. Well...."

He trails off. Imagines, briefly, that he is a black hole— a quasar. A neutron star. Something so tight and compact it can string him out, erase him; a ball of grief and misery dense enough that it contains its own event horizon.

Scar hums a little shakily into the blooming silence. "Yeah. I guess that would complicate things, wouldn't it." A pause. "Does it always feel—?"

Grian shrugs. "Don’t know that either, Scar."

"Oh." Scar's still looking at him, the searchlight of his gaze burning pockmarks into Grian's skin. "Cool, okay... so...." He hesitates, teeth worrying his lower lip, before finally forging on: "So what now?"

Grian sucks in his own shuddery breath. "Whatever you want, Scar," he says, blank and dull. Every inch of him frozen stiff, awaiting the tipped scales of Scar’s judgement. "There's no going back, after this." The quicksilver flash of a grimace tugs his lips back to reveal sharp, white teeth. "Welcome to the club, I guess."

"It sure is a warm welcome," Scar says weakly. "Got— uh, got your complimentary balloons, and— and um, a whole gift basket of... of...."

He trails off too, the fragile ley lines of his humor peeling off, cracking at the seams. Impossibly, Grian curls around himself tighter.

An apology is nothing but wasted air now, but it dredges from his throat anyway. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Scar. I—" He breaks off, jaw tight. "I'm... I'm not sure what else to say, honestly. I never thought...."

I never thought you'd win. It's a cruel phrase that haunts the air between them, hanging like a smoky pall across their shoulders.

Scar says nothing against it; he only watches.

An uneasy prickle crawls up Grian's spine. "You don't—" He stops himself before he can finish that thought. "Are you— Scar, why are you here?"

"'Cause Pearl's not talking to me yet," Scar says quietly, prompt. "And— and because I remembered. Us."

Grian's throat closes around the word. "Us," he echoes, a rough rasp that ricochets against the deepslate walls surrounding them. The word tears through his ears, distorting with each pass. "Look, alright— I-I don't know if you got the memo, exactly, but— I'm not—"

He breaks off again, lungs jarring, hitching in his chest. Hot prickles sear behind his eyes, but nothing drops— he’s too tired for crying. "I've hurt you a lot, Scar," Grian says at last, lips numb around the words. "I'm not sure if there's much of an 'us' left, at this point."

"I know," Scar says. His eyes reflect the snow-glitter outside.

"And— I wouldn't blame you, if you left right now." 

"I know," Scar says again, softer.

"I—” Grian stares at him, helpless. "Okay, then why are you here, Scar?" He gestures between them, an aimless motion that somehow encompasses the breadth of everything that's rotted at their foundations. "If you know all that, then what—?"

Scar regards him with enviable poise. His throat bobs as he speaks. "Maybe, I just— now that I remember— maybe I just want your company, Grian. Is that really so bad?"

Grian stares at him, at a loss. "I don't understand," he says finally, and it comes out plaintive even to his own ears. "I thought you'd be— angry. After everything I've done, after all that's happened.... What's your play here, Scar? If you want to yell at me, be my guest. I think by now I've more than earned it."

But Scar doesn't take the bait. Instead, he shuffles closer— just by an inch. A careful, cautious inch. "Y'know," he says, apropos of nothing, "and correct me if I'm wrong, here— but I seem to remember something about you wanting an alliance before all of... that crazy stuff happened. Is that right?"

Something in Grian's chest spasms. Whatever expression it spreads across his face must spur Scar on, because he scoots closer again, just enough to bring their calves together. The brief shock of warmth explodes through Grian's skin, worming its way underneath the subcutaneous tissue to flood his veins and gnaw at the lingering ice.

After a moment, Scar's lips tilt up— a subtle, fragile smile. "Is it too late to cash in on that?" he asks.

Grian's mind goes blank, white and buzzing, the thin hiss of a creeper drifting through it like smoke. Unfiltered shock threads through his voice. "You want t— what?"

Scar's smile tempers further around its edges, stretching into something softer, knowing. Rounded out. With solemn motions, he reaches into the pocket of his utterly ridiculous safety vest, and delicately pulls something out.

It's a sunflower.

In the frigid gloom of Tango's citadel, Grian gapes, the brilliant yellow petals incongruous with this grim, grit, darkened room. When he looks up, Scar's eyes are overbright, painfully earnest— brimming with a desperate urgency that tucks itself away in the depths of his pupils.

"Can we try again?" Scar says, soft as the new-fallen snow beyond this isolated cell of misery. "Start over? I— I kind of hurt you too, you know. And— for the record, being without you sucks. I don't—" He falters. "I know it's gonna be all weird, y’know, between us… but I don't want to do that anymore. I just... want you here, Grian. That's all. I just want you to stick around."

Grian sucks in a sharp, daggered breath. "You're joking," he breathes, but his heart leaps, tumbling from his throat and onto the floor for Scar to stomp at his leisure. "You're actually— this isn't funny."

"Hey, do you see me laughing?” Scar presses forward once more, a calculated attack, but still slow enough for Grian to track each move, to stop him if he cared enough to. Gently, Scar unwinds one of Grian's hands from his knees, cupping it between his own and brushing the lightest of kisses against his knuckles before turning over Grian’s palm and pressing the flower into it. Grian's fingers curl around it of their own accord, silky petals burning against his fingers.

"So." Scar smiles, tremulous, eyes suspiciously red-rimmed. "Can we still be friends?"

And Grian has always been a raw creature, a tangled wreck of his own selfish greed— he’s craved the honeyed umber of Scar's love since he first cradled it, tentatively, in his palms all that time ago. In the depths of his heart, there will always be that sandstone cliff, the crack of his bones against hard-packed sand, and wings too clipped to fly freely. There will always be that calloused fist around his heart, and beyond his own scrabbling fear, there will always, always be that fervent need to bring Scar close even as he pushes him away.

And where before, Scar had been playing blind, a game with no true rules… now, his eyes trap Grian against the wall, clear as glass— diamond sharp and just as steady. From a winning game, there is no turning back. There’s nothing left to lose here, except this porcelain trust, this shred of hope Scar offers him once more in the form of a flower.

Even after everything, all the memories flooding back— Scar is still here, holding Grian’s heart, and offering up his own in return.

Grian slowly presses it to his chest with trembling, vulnerable motions. "You're sure you want this."

"I'm sure I want you," Scar says, unwavering.

Grian breathes in. Breathes out. Inhale and exhale, both a heavy drag in his lungs. Already, the sun is beginning to strengthen, casting thick rays through the window and splaying them across Grian’s lap. The advent of gilded noon weaves around them, perfuming the air with light and heat.

"Okay," Grian says at last, and it drops from his lips with the weight of a confession; a relinquishment; a solemn vow. "Okay."

This time, when Scar reaches for his hand again, Grian meets him halfway, and the tangle of their fingers nets the sunflower in a promise neatly between them.

#scarian #desert duo #desertduo #goodtimeswithscar #grian #secret life #secret life spoilers #trafficshipping #trafficblr #traffic series #mcyt #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #mcyt fic #shouting speaks #my fics #THREE TIMES THE CHARM PLEASE POST PLEASE POST PLEASE POST I'LL CRY #i had to take an hour in between attempting this again RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I WILL NOT BE SILENCED LET ME LIIIIIIVE #anyway im so unwell. imm so unwell #gods. scargirls we are WINNINGGGGGGGG LFGGGGG #HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS I CANT WAIT TO POST IT TO AO3 #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

tango's new ep makes me feel like im watching an undergraduate engineer feverishly working in the library at 3am after chugging a 5 hour energy drink and snorting a line of crushed up caffeine pills. he's got the spirit of a frenetic cheetah running laps around its enclosure. im obsessed with him this is like studying a bug if the bug was hopped up on cocaine and committing acts of redstone hubris unforeseen by god himself

#tango tek #tangotek #hermitcraft #decked out 2 #the frantic way he's taking apart the copper piston doors has me on the GROUND its like someone told him his project is due in 2 hrs #please never change sir this is fantastic #shouting speaks #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

actually the entirety of scar and grian's eps and all the callbacks they made to 3rd life made me fucking insane and the fact that ive somehow managed to escape with my life is just a sign my flamingo-salinity-acclimation to scarian has reached terminal velocity now. ive been in these trenches for 2 years longer than i ever expected to be and i fear neither god nor death nor fandom lore i am simply spinning scarian hug in the brainspace rn on loop like the world's juiciest rotisserie chicken

#shouting speaks #scarian #goodtimeswithscar #grian #traffic series #real life spoilers #real life smp #can u tell i havent slept yet #it is 6am in the mornkng #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

watching minecraft sos as a life series fan is so harrowing i genuinely keep thinking every interaction is a prelude to violence and every single time its just people hanging out and being friends. mogswamp told fwhip to walk ahead of him on a rickety bridge he built and the entire time i kept waiting for fwhip to get punched off and die. instead mog gave him 10 mending books in exchange for 3 stacks of coal, every day i experience traffic series-induced whiplash

#shouting speaks #minecraft sos #life series #trafficblr #fwhip #mogswamp #im actually SO happy mogswamp is in this series ive absolutely loved his videos for like over a year now #but yeah watching this is so stressful for my blood pressure i keep expecting the worst WKDBAJDNSNDN #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

"am i too big for the hole? 💥💥 "grant me access to the hole!" 💥💥💥 "unlike ore mountain which has an iron-strong core of strength... and dominance" 💥💥💥💥 "im gonna wait for him inside his mouth" 💥💥💥💥💥 "skizz come around the back side of grian" 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 YES THANK YOU GOODTIMESWITHSUGGESTIVE GLAD TO SEE YOURE STILL GOING STRONG AS EVER--

#shouting speaks #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #hermitcraft #suggestive #I HATE HIM.I HATR HIM SO MUCH.... SHUT UP SHUTUP SHUT UP IM NOT EVEN 6 MINUTES INTO TJE EPISODE #HITTING HIM WITH HAMMERS. HITTING *ME* WITH HAMMERS #THIS SUCKS /AFF #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

shout out to the person in Scar's chat who said "i love my streamer Elgato No Signal" when his cam went out

#shouting speaks #mcc #goodtimeswithscar #whats it like to be the funniest person on earth sir #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

watching the new tango and zedaph vid is a study in me minding my own business and getting hit with [vine boom] "you. are. MINE, tango" [vine boom] "BOW, BOW BEFORE ME" [vine boom] "KISS MY BOOTS!!!!" [VINE BOOM] [VINE BOOM] [VINE BOOM] CANNN YOU TWO SHUT UPP!!!!! WHY AREE YOU SO FUCKIGN LOUD WHAT THE FUCK IS IN THE DECKED OUT WATERRRR ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

#tangotek #tango tek #zedaph #zedaphplays #hermitcraft #decked out 2 #decked out #decked out spoilers #suggestive #shouting speaks #I CANT WITH THEMM!!!!!!! WHY ARE YIU TWO LIKE THIS!!!!!!!!!! #💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 #hermitshipping #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

Hi smalletho nation i needed a warmup before digging into more hunger au so i decided to write a little snippet specifically intended to make @bad12amcomic want to beat me with hammers<3 its not much but i hope yall will accept this humble offering that has literally zero context whatsoever /silly

"You suck, Etho, never come near me again," Joel snaps. Then, with the edge of a sneer: "Sorry, I didn't mean that— except I did, you loser— bet you didn't see that one coming, did you, you stupid— blimmin'— good at everything...." His voice trails off, curdling and sour as it drips to the ground.

Etho's response is slightly more measured. "I dunno, Joel... seems like you kinda want my attention over here." One white eyebrow ticks up into a perfect arch, the glint of a sly smile teasing the corners of his eyes. The bare edges of a laugh tickle each syllable as he leans in close, both in mock and in challenge. "Maybe I don't suck as much as you think."

"I wish you did," Joel blurts, then flushes all the way to the roots of his hair, entire face flaming. "I-I mean, uh— oh, wow, nevermind, that came out weird. Look at the time— goodbye Etho, I hope Gem kills you really... stupidly. So I can laugh at you. Because I'm cool, and way cooler than you. Obviously."

#joel smallishbeans #ethoslab #smalletho #boat boys #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #suggestive #WILDLY HAPPY I GET TO TAG THIS AS HERMITCRAFT LETS GOOOOOOO JOEL #tbh this was specifically bc i wanted to write joel's voice hes so fun for me..... i love the little pauses in his dialogue #guys with unique voices mon beloved #shouting speaks #mcyt #my snippets #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

grian's new episode being an hour long is both a blessing and a curse bc on the one hand WE FEAST and on the other hand i (autistic, chronic backseat gamer, also a tango viewer familiar with the game) had to sit there FOR AN HOUR watching him flail around in circles while setting off every single shrieker in level one like his sole mission in life was to get mauled by a vex. never have i sympathized so hard with the ghost experience than while watching someone on youtube with zero pattern-recognition attempt to navigate a deadly maze

and i havent even BEGUN scar's ep yet

#grian #goodtimeswithscar #decked out 2 #decked out spoilers #hermitcraft #shouting speaks #they are goingg.to kill me. #/LH #gently razzing on them that first run was agonizing im going to be ripping my hair out when i see scar's i bet #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

A Kemetic prayer to Bast for Jellie

Hail to You, O' Bast, Who guards the Two Lands! Hail to You, Iryt Ra! You who are swift and cunning, You who strike down enemies and nurture children. I ask that You protect and nurture the cat Jellie as she crosses into Your domain, through the Duat and into Your Hour. I ask that she is kept from harm and given safety and shelter in the cradle of Your arms. Hail to You, O' Bast, Devouring Lady, Mother of my Soul! I offer sweet cheese and fruits. I offer spiced tea and toasted nuts. I offer the ring of my sistrum. May Jellie only know warmth and good food with You, the comfort of the sun. May she hunt on under Your guidance. May she find peace and joy within Your company. Hail to You, O' Bast, Lady of the Ointments, the Knowledge through which death cannot approach too closely! I light this candle and ask that all those who have called this cat family find comfort and peace in this time of her absence. I ask that Your Light guides her to You, and that she remains safely within Your domain. May her name be forever remembered. May her ba be forever nourished through the shrines and images made in her honor. Thus it is done. Dua Bast!

this is free to reblog if you so choose, and i hope whoever reads it can find even a small measure of comfort in it❤️❤️❤️❤️🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

#shouting speaks #kemetic #prayer #jellie #jellie mcyt #goodtimeswithscar #mcyt #religious #<- tagging so those who might not want to see it can filter it out #if anyone is worried about the cat whiskers: i save the ones my cat naturally sheds whenever i find them #these were already loose whiskers and i save them for purposes exactly like these #if anyone wants to know my process or anything for this you're free to ask btw i just didnt want to clog up the main post #ngl it feels a little nervewracking to post this so please be kind about it #pet death #animal death #tw: pet death #txt

[definitelynotshouting]

I want to know more about the hiding the cat thing, how’s you manage that?

okay so in december of 2018 me and my cousin, who had moved in with me earlier that year, heard a knock on our door about two minutes after a house guest had left. On the other side is said house guest, who eagerly informs us that there is a VERY sweet and friendly kitten roaming around out in the parking lot

To quickly set the scene here: it is 45°F out and the sun is going down. We are in pajamas. Neither of us are even wearing shoes

Both of us, avid cat lovers, charge down the stairs to pet this cat, who is indeed very friendly and INCREDIBLY sweet, trotting right up to us and purring up a storm. My cousin looks at me. I look at him. "Absolutely not," I tell him, because our apartment has a strict $300 pet deposit policy and neither of us have that kind of pocket money lying around.

"But TJ," my cousin says, in a voice i have come to recognize as a precursor to the world's most obvious yet effective attempts at emotional manipulation, "it's cold outside. And the highway is right there. Wouldn't you feel so terrible if you woke up tomorrow and–"

"OH MY GODS," I say, very loudly, "GO. JUST TAKE HIM INSIDE, GO GO GO."

My cousin scoops the kitten up (who doesnt protest even a little), runs up all three flights of stairs so fast he fucking blurs, and now we have a cat. in our apartment. and no pet deposit.

Ofc we did make the obligatory attempt at finding his original owner. He was far too sweet and friendly to be a proper stray, and while he was very thin he still had soft fur and wasnt super scruffy. We very quietly asked around, put up some carefully worded signs in the neighborhood, checked in with the local shelters-- nada. Nothing. Not a single peep about this cat. And after a full week of bonding, both of us were 100% set on keeping him.

Honestly, hiding him from our apartment wasnt anything spectacular. We're indoor-only owners, and our friends pitched in to help us get him neutered, get his shots, and essential supplies. We had two inspections during the 3 month period we saved up for a pet deposit, and both times we just hid his stuff in our cabinets, put him in his cat carrier, and took him to someone else's house for the day. Once we had the money we needed and could actually spare it, we went to our leasing office and informed them we wanted to adopt a cat.

"Oh thank god," I distinctly remember hearing the woman who handed me the appropriate paperwork say. "We're so grateful you went through the proper channels for this. Nobody ever does that, and it's such a hassle for us. What's your new cat's name?"

"Oh, of course," I replied, with what i think was frankly admirable composure. "I'm always happy to be helpful. And we've decided to name him Anarchy."

#shouting speaks #asks #cats #lore drop #anarchy will be turning 5 i believe in june this year. he sleeps in our laps and bites us gently and sometimes eats pineapple #he's also the dumbest cat alive and we love him SO much #txt