#glitch in the cat matrix

[gothinstrawberryland]

Guys.

Apparently if you bite a cat's scruff when trimming their nails, they will actually let you do it.

I did it to both my cats, and it worked. One of them got a little sad and needed to take a short break, but the other one was purring happily.

I am the mommy cat now.

However, I would prefer if there was some other way to hold their scruff, other than in my teeth. Prob not the cleanest. But it *works*

Spruce of information: Some guy on YouTube.

[sonandheirofnothinginparticular]

[2022dirt]

Real life glitches.

[holybagelsstuff]

I didn't want to finish The Matrix trilogy after watching the awful Reloaded, but today I decided to watch Revolutions and I liked it. No idea what went wrong with the second movie.

[izztreme-art-n-stuff]

Made an RB:RJ version of this ReBoot wallpaper

Reblogs > Likes

[cherryblosom-themed-racoon]

These Legos are getting more and more life like

[urdauddy]

So my mom and I had been looking for my cat for a few minutes, and I'm like standing still to see if I notice movement to see if I see him, and I don't, we looked all over the kitchen, the bedrooms, underneath the TV underneath the sofa and everything, even behind the curtains of the window and everything.

Every single surface in every single room, because my mom was about to go to sleep, and she wants me to like, keep an eye on him since I'm in the living room, and as we're looking, I'm like walking back to my bedroom, and suddenly he appeared out of nowhere and he's like walking towards me, and I'm in Spanish like talking to him....

"Honey, where have you been?

And my mom knows that I obviously address him as like, honey, baby, my love, my darling, my bubbas and stuff like that. So I imagine she had heard me and she was in her bedroom trying to look for him, and she goes; after hearing me talk to him as then I spoke to her

"Mom, look."

And she looks, and I hear that the movement of her like moving the pillows around and Blake it's, has stopped, and she does, and she's all like.

" where was he? "

And I'm like

"I... Don't know. I just saw him suddenly appear out if nowhere. I don't understand."

And she's all like:

"huh? Really? That's so strange."

And then, obviously, I remember the glitch in the matrix situation, and I explained it to her, and then she's like:

" that is so weird..."

But yeah, I guess this is my first glitch in the matrix story that I've ever told, and that I've ever had, happened to me.

[justletmeon12]

The most unnerving thing my cats do on a regular basis is swap out for each other.

Sometimes, I'll pet Rita sitting on her favorite shelf, go do something else for ten minutes, and come back to find that Jill's there in the exact same position. They didn't fight about it, they didn't cross my line of sight when making the switch - it's just that the grey cat is now a brown cat.

Jill's also picked up Rita's strategy of getting my attention when I'm in my chair, down to the same claw placement, so I'll reach down to pet the cat who's okay with sudden movements and get the one who ducks away from me if I'm not careful.

It's adorable, but also vaguely unsettling.

[kunaljoshi730-blog]

Glitch

[aquaticgiggles]

Are there Whales on Alternia? If you aren't familiar, they're Large Mammalian Sea Beasts native to Earth.

Wait a minute...this is a repeat!

[ars-matron]

There was a cryptid in my yard last night...

Here's a few still or the giant disappearing "cat"

[amycvdh]

I’ve long thought “glitch” (as in, ‘there’s a glitch in the matrix’) would be a great name for a black cat

Matrix, 1999

[little-annie]

It's in the kitchen of their shitty little 1.5 bedroom apartment that Eddie Munson continues to bemoan his roommates request for him to watch the 2024 Olympic Games with her this evening.

“Christine Henrietta Cunningham,” he starts with a sigh, wiping the reminentes of yet another YooHoo from his upper lip, leaning a narrow hip against the countertop's edge, “there is no way in hell you are getting me to watch the Olympics.”

Already wearing her team USA sweater, Chrissy tries to protest. Just as she did last night and the night before. For some reason thinking it's such a dire thing that Eddie watches the Olympics this year.

“First of all, not my middle name. Second-”

“You would literally have to glue my eyeballs open.”

“Second-” she tries again, voice stern, pointing a yellowed spoon in Eddie's direction as she dishes up a bowl of Kraft Dinner for them both.

“There is not now, nor will there ever be, any reason for me to watch juiced up jocks prance around and play any form of sportsball.”

There's so many reasons. Christ. Fuck. So many. But he's not telling Chrissy that. He'll watch the reruns when she's not home. He couldn't possibly be caught dead after last time.

“What about the swim-”

“Not even Gandalf himself,” Eddie interrupts, “-could convince me to waste my precious campaign planning time on such a thing.”

Following Chrissy to the living room, bowl of macaroni in hand, Eddie refuses to sit down next to her on the couch. He's not going to watch. Nope. Maybe sneak a peak in passing? Sure. But not watch. Are you kidding me?

“What a about To-”

The metal spoon that was once in Eddie's hand chatters to the floor as he mock gasps. Neon yellow noodles on the tile that the cat comes running over to clean up, Eddie stands in abject horror. She wouldn't dare.

“Don't you dare say what I think you're about to say, Christine. My 2020 not obsession with Tom Daley shan't be spoken of. It was merely a blip in the system. A glitch in the matrix.”

He still thinks Tom Daley can get it. But that's neither here nor there. And what is there, is simply between Eddie and the well used bottle of lotion next to his bed.

Chrissy rolls her eyes, now sitting with her legs crossed on their ugly ass thrifted couch, patting the cushion next to her as if Eddie's a dog. “Eddie you literally watched every one of his ra-”

Races?

“I did not.”

Okay maybe we wanted to. Who wouldn't? But it's not like he obsessively watched every one of the man's races.

“... I missed two.” He admits Inna whisper.

And what a sheer travesty that'd had been

“Oh yeah. You missed two. Oh Edward, how could I forget?” After patting the cushion mindlessly next to her again and eating a spoonful of macaroni she faux whines, “‘Oh Chrissy, would you record the race for me? I don't want to miss it.’”

He doesn't sound like that.

“I do not sound lik-”

All pathetic and whiney? Eddie Munson doesn't sound like that.

“As if I would believe you actually gave two shits about the races you giant homo.” Chrissy rolls her eyes so hard Eddie's surprised she doesn't hurt her neck, “You just liked seeing those boys in spandex.”

Well…. She's not wrong. Sports are dumb. People playing sports for money is dumb. What the Olympics does to those cities in the aftermath of the event is dumb.

But she's not wrong.

Spandex

“…. I hate you”

“No you don't.” She smiles, blowing Eddie a kiss.

“Um. Yes I do.”

As if he could ever hate Chrissy.

Avoiding making eye contact with her as she continues to pat the cushion next to her and turning heel towards the hall, Eddie decides maybe it's just best to eat his supper in his room. Away from jockey spandex and its temptations, “Anyways. As I was saying. Fuck you and your jocky hobbies Chrissy.” Eddie yells from the hall, “My time is far too valuable to be wasted mindlessly drooling over arrogant jocks and their-”

In a sing-songy voice Eddie hears Chrissy call from behind him, “You're gonna want to watch this!”

He groans, turning back around from the journey he'd just started in the direction of his room, “I would rather di-” only to be caught short when a familiar mole dotted, spandex covered ass makes its way across his TV screen.

He'd recognize that ass anywhere.

Went to every goddamn swim meet at the stupid community pool to see that beautiful ass in motion for years.

He fawned over it in the halls of Hawkins High.

Drooled over it on the odd days he actually attended gym class. Tried to solely avoid eye contact with it when he found it bare and within reach in the change rooms only an hour later.

Fuck.

Eddie's knees feel weak and before he knows it he's climbing over the back of the couch, bowl of macaroni in his lap and mirroring Chrissy's position. Legs crossed. Eyes glued to the TV. Mindlessly eating chemicals that some big corporation somehow manages to pass off as macaroni and cheese.

“Is that Steve Harrington?”

Oh look at those moles.

Beautiful.

Those pecs?

Fucking hell.

“Christine!?” Eddie screeches from his position on the couch when Chrissy doesn't answer, just simply shrugs and smirks at him. The little devil. “Did I just see Harrington?”

“Told you, you'd want to see this.”

[jo3ydr3w]

Stobotnik Week Day 5

Prompt 1: Affection

It started small.

A hand brushing over Stone’s hair as Robotnik passed by his workstation. Fingers ruffling through the short curls when Stone handed him his coffee just the way he liked it—two sugars, no cream, perfect temperature. A slow, rhythmic stroke to the back of his head whenever Robotnik was deep in thought and Stone just happened to be standing within arm’s reach.

At first, Stone thought it was a one-time thing. A glitch in the Doctor’s typical physical boundaries. An accident.

But it kept happening.

And Robotnik never seemed to notice.

Sometimes it was comforting, oddly grounding, like a ritual. Robotnik would stand behind him, musing over some complex calculation or circuit schematic, and his fingers would wander to Stone’s head. He’d comb them through the short waves like it was second nature, like petting a cat that had been part of the lab since day one. Sometimes he’d tap his fingers against Stone’s scalp when his ideas were accelerating, like his brain needed a metronome and Stone’s skull just happened to be the perfect surface.

Stone didn’t complain. In fact, he cherished it, as embarrassing as that felt to admit even to himself. It was the closest thing to affection Robotnik gave freely, without some biting comment attached, without performance or pretense.

It was just… pure. Subconscious.

Until the day Sonic showed up again.

They weren’t fighting, not exactly. It was more of a tense standoff. Sonic had busted into the base demanding answers about some strange new energy signature in the hills. Robotnik was mid-lecture, pacing circles around the hedgehog like a shark, throwing out technobabble and sarcasm in equal measure.

Stone, as always, was just behind him, tablet in hand, ready to provide the exact coordinates or launch the drones if ordered.

Then Robotnik stopped mid-rant, turned slightly, and—without a thought—reached over and started absently running his fingers through Stone’s hair.

Right there. In front of Sonic.

Sonic’s expression froze. Eyebrows shot up, a slow, almost cruel smirk creeping onto his face.

“Ohhhh-kay,” the hedgehog said, pointing at the scene like he’d just found a glitch in the Matrix. “What is that?”

Robotnik blinked. “What is what?”

“That!” Sonic jabbed a finger. “You’re… petting him. Like a little dog. That your thing now? Henchman headpats? Wow, and I thought I was weird.”

Robotnik looked at his own hand. Still resting on Stone’s head. Fingers curled lightly in his curls. He went very still.

Stone, for his part, did not move. He kept his eyes firmly on his tablet like it would swallow him whole if he stared hard enough.

A long, painful pause.

Then Robotnik snatched his hand back like he’d touched a live wire.

“I—That was—It’s a tactile-based stimulation method for optimizing lateral ideation in moments of deep cognitive computation,” he snapped. “Completely clinical. Has nothing to do with affection or, or bonding or—”

“You pet him,” Sonic grinned, absolutely delighted. “You’re, like, a cartoon villain with a pet human. That’s so messed up and kind of adorable, and I think I love it.”

“OUT!” Robotnik bellowed, jabbing a finger toward the exit. “OUT OF MY LAB, YOU BLUE PARASITE!”

Sonic bolted—laughing the entire way.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Silence.

Robotnik stood still, face red from a mix of fury and something else.

Stone finally looked up. “Should I start wearing a bell, sir?”

Robotnik stared at him. Then—shockingly—he gave a small huff of laughter. Just one. Barely a breath. He turned and walked away muttering, “Don’t tempt me, Agent Stone.”

Stone allowed himself a tiny smile.

He didn’t get petted again for a few days after that. But on the fourth day, when he passed Robotnik the new schematics and stood close by as the Doctor examined them…

The hand returned.

A slow, familiar stroke across the back of his head.

Robotnik didn’t say a word.

And neither did Stone.

Prompt 2: Family

The lab was filled with the soft, rhythmic clinks of tools against metal. A gentle flicker of welding sparks. The whir of small servos testing joints, calibrating movement. Metal Sonic—his chest cavity open like a steel ribcage—lay across the central table, dormant but recovering.

Robotnik’s goggles were pushed up on his forehead. Stone sat cross-legged on a rolling stool nearby, sorting through a bin of microprocessors and tiny screws, handing over the exact parts before Robotnik even asked.

“You sure his AI core’s stable?” Stone asked, passing over a graphite-coated stabilizer chip.

“More stable than your average tech-bro’s marriage,” Robotnik replied absently, tweaking a wire cluster with precision. “I’ve made adjustments. His loyalty matrix is now tethered directly to my neural pattern—well, a simulated construct of it, at least. He’ll know who built him. Who made him strong. Who he belongs to.”

Stone watched the Doctor work for a moment, then quietly reached into the box and offered up the next connector. “You’re kinda good at this parenting thing, you know.”

Robotnik froze mid-solder.

“Excuse me?”

Stone shrugged, as casual as he could manage while his heart beat faster. “I mean—just saying. You take care of him. You’re protective. You teach him stuff. Make sure he’s running right. It’s kinda like having a kid, right?”

Robotnik narrowed his eyes. “He’s an extension of my genius. A machine designed to express my intellect and wrath, not a child.”

“Sure. Still kinda kid-coded.”

Robotnik scoffed, but didn’t argue. He kept working, albeit with a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Stone smiled, just a little. He glanced down at the scattered tools and blueprints. “You know, Doctor… you might not’ve had a family growing up. But we make a pretty good one, don’t we?”

The words slipped out like air from a tire. Light, but weighted.

Robotnik stilled again. This time, not from indignation.

The silence stretched just a bit too long.

“I mean,” Stone added quickly, “not like conventionally good. Obviously. You’re the most dangerous man alive. I make coffee with security protocols—”

“You’re right.”

Stone blinked. “What?”

“You’re right,” Robotnik repeated, still not looking up from the circuitry. “We are a family. Of a sort.”

Stone stared at him. For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Robotnik finally looked over. “It doesn’t have to look like a sitcom. It just has to work. Efficiently. And this—” He gestured at the workbench, the tools, the machine between them. “—works.”

Stone looked at the unfinished Metal Sonic again. At his hands holding tiny pieces of a machine someone else might call a weapon, but they were rebuilding with care.

“Yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than anything. “It really does.”

Robotnik turned back to his work.

Stone watched him for a moment longer, then smiled to himself and passed him the next screw.

Prompt 3: Pet Names

It started as mockery.

“Thanks for the coffee, darling. Remind me to promote you to Chief Beverage Retrieval Officer.”

“Could you be a dear and sweep the lab, muffin? I think I stepped on a bolt. Or a rodent. Either way, it squeaked.”

“Ah, my beloved lapdog, fetching my schematics with such loyalty. Good boy.”

Stone took it in stride. That was the game, after all—Robotnik jeering, barbed, theatrical; Stone unshakably calm, smiling through every jab. But the pet names… they stuck in his mind longer than they should’ve.

Robotnik had a flair for cruelty dressed in theatrics, and he used “sweetheart” like a knife. But Stone—ever the adaptable agent—learned how to wear that blade like a brooch.

The first shift came on a Tuesday, which somehow felt appropriate. Tuesdays were always the weirdest days in the lair.

Stone had spent the morning resetting all the mech calibration systems after a power surge. He hadn’t slept. Robotnik emerged from his overnight brainstorming haze.

Stone passed him a protein bar and a cup of coffee before the Doctor could even grumble a request.

Robotnik blinked. “You do have your uses, don’t you, honeybunch.”

No venom. Just absent-mindedness. He sipped the coffee. It was perfect. He didn’t even flinch.

Stone tried not to smile too obviously.

After that, it became a thing.

“Pass me the plasma coil, sweetheart. No, the big one.”

“Excellent idea, sugarplum, I’ll just hijack the entire defense grid with your login. Surely that won’t trigger an alert.”

Sarcasm was still there—but it had softened, like a theater mask slipping.

And then one night, something shifted.

Stone had fallen asleep on the couch in the lab, still dressed in slacks and a half-loosened tie, half-curled under a blanket with his tablet open on his chest. The air was quiet, except for the hum of machinery.

Robotnik passed by to check a readout, glanced down at him, then… paused.

His fingers hovered over the tablet, then gently closed it. His hand lingered just above Stone’s shoulder. He hesitated.

Then, soft. So soft it might’ve been for no one but himself:

“Sleep well, baby.”

Stone didn’t stir.

Robotnik stood there a moment longer, staring at the man who fetched his coffee and reset his entire lab after a meltdown, who answered every snap of his fingers without hesitation. Who laughed at his jokes. Who stayed.

The next morning, he didn’t mention it.

But when Stone brought him coffee, Robotnik took it without a word, turned toward his work… and then added, lightly:

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

No sarcasm. Just gratitude.

Stone blinked, then smiled into his cup. “Anytime, Doctor.”

[robin-evry]

Heeeyyyyy~ it’s a me again, so just watched the Transformers one movie, and it got me thinking of what would happen if Yuu was a cybertronian/Transformer? Like alien robot that Can transform into a vehicle isekaied to a magic School? Imagine the fun! the chaos! They can pick up the overblot students and put them in air jail like a misbehaving cat! Ortho finally has a bestie!!!!

Sure thing, ask and you shall receive

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐍 👾🤖

Cybertronians are a species of autonomous robotic organisms originating from the distant planet called Cybertron that had their essences transferred into robotic bodies known as "Transformers".

Cybertronian!Yuu one of by far most unique students ever, they tower over most of the students. By cybertronian!yuu has received some modification in twst that helps them fit in the world more.

They can partially transform parts of their body into mechanical tools, like shields, scanners, or even small weaponry. This ability has led to some interesting duels in combat class, where they improvises with forms no one expects.

Cybertronian!Yuu sees magic as something like a digital matrix, with each spell having its own “source code.” While they may struggle with traditional spellcasting, Cybertronian Yuu can often rewrite spells or make unique modifications, leading to unexpected effects. This adaptability often puts them at odds with teachers, yet impresses friends like Ace and Deuce.

Cybertronian!Yuu can store and retrieve a ton of information like a living database, sometimes glitching and blurting out random trivia. Ace and Deuce find it hilarious, but it occasionally becomes handy, especially during exams.

Do you know the meme of the song I woke up in a new Bugatti, that's the first year riding on cybertronian!yuu on their transformation form. They have become their friends chauffeur around school pretty much everywhere.

Ortho + Cybertronian!Yuu : robot besties.

NRC tend to call them both a “tech wiz.” They often exchange “upgrades” and tech secrets, and Ortho even helps Cybertronian!Yuu unlock hidden Cybertronian features that they were previously unaware of. They’re like the school’s tech-savvy duo, making Idia’s life easier and sometimes scaring him with their synchronized techno-speak.

Cybertronian! Yuu has an “echo mode” that lets them record and replay sounds, which Rook finds utterly fascinating for tracking creatures or investigating mysteries. Sometimes, they use it to replay people’s voices, teasing Ace or copying Riddle’s strict tone. Grim once caught them imitating the Headmage and nearly exposed them!

Their system has an auto-translate function for languages, magical runes, and even animal sounds, making them NRC’s unofficial interpreter. This skill shines with Sebek, who tries to one-up them in translating ancient text, and with Kalim, who loves hearing animal translations from the Spirit of the Dunes.

Inspired by Pomefiore’s focus on beauty, they develop a “glamour mode” that projects holographic outfits, allowing them to “try on” new looks with a simple transformation. Rook and Vil are fascinated by their ability to shift appearances at will, and Vil even pushes them to “update” their glamour mode regularly to keep up with fashion trends.

Cybertronian!yuu is very curious about the world around them, since originally back in Cybertron there wasn't any organic like plant-life. You can find them being curious and browsing things that find them interesting.

When seriously damaged, cybertronian!Yuu has an auto-repair protocol that initiates a regeneration process. This usually involves a “recharging stasis” where they power down for a few hours to restore internal systems by transforming into a metal box to repair any damages coming to their body and database.

They also have the ability to heck or connect themselves into different technologies, they can see through the technology database as well copying the abilities of the technology.

They discovers they can use holo-projections to mimic voices and create illusions. With Ace and Grim, Yuu pulls harmless pranks like projecting an image of Crowley, scaring students into thinking he’s around.

During battles, cybertronian!yuu possessed a wide range of arsenal weapons. But one of their favorite styles of fighting is basically running over the enemies in their transformation form.

Imagine overblot Azul laughing and yapping about something, and the next thing he got hit by a vehicle as well putting their enemies in time out.