#he showed me his cat's loaf pics

[roimp]

SO YESTERDAY.

[nerdnag]

I would love to hear about your cat also if you ever would like to talk about them!!!

Yesss!! I have two cat brothers. They turn five next Saturday and they are the best creatures in the world.

I have a lot to say about them and a lot of pictures to show so I'll have to split this post in two I think 😅 First up is Picolas!! (given name: Pixel)

Picolas is some kind of strange mixed breed between cat, rabbit, dragon, dog and loaf. This guy starts purring if you so much as glance at him. He loves cuddles and will accept basically any treatment as part of cuddling, whether it be to lift him up, roll him around, paddle his paws in the air or whatever. He usually sleeps under my duvet, right next to me (sometimes while hugging me with his legs) and he'll also come lie under the blanket with me in the sofa. He likes to keep a paw on me so he knows I'm there. He will almost always be near me or with me, whatever I'm doing. I'm never lonely around him. 💕 (In fact he is with me right now while I'm typing this on my phone.)

Both my cats talk a lot and Picolas likes in particular to say "gurr-kah" and "prr-mao". He also very politely respons when I talk to him so sometimes we have long, full conversations. Whenever I walk past him he'll meet my gaze and incline his head while making a cool, almost creaking sound, like he's saying "yo" in greeting (while giving me the expression in the first pic below. Really cool I know). Some of his fave places to be include the shower (not while it's on), the balcony, on the bed when it's been made and on top of tall/high things.

He loves food. Like, he lives for that shit. But because he has a weak lil body with kidney issues we have to give him a special diet and he can only handle the wet food. Like, he loves to eat dry food (in fact he'll often try to sneak some from his brother) but if he gets too much he'll start throwing up. No veterinarian knows why. It's literally so weird. He ruins us economically with his special as heck dry food. But yeah anyway he loves food, all kinds, even if it's bad for him so we have to keep the kitchen pristine and free from crumbs and stuff because he'll absolutely drag his tongue over every singly surface to check if there's something to slurp up. (Thanks to him our kitchen is always clean. So.)

ALSO HE IS SO SMART. We literally have to come up with new ways to stop him from doing crazy shit all the time and it's like a game of spy vs spy. For example he learned how to open the fridge by standing on his back legs and sticking his paws in the little space beneath the handle, so we had to tape little plastic ledges to that space as well as the space right by the floor. It took weeks before we figured out a solution that would work though, he managed to bypass at least five other measures before that one.

He has little vampire teeth and loves to chew cables. So we've had to come up with ways to stop him from doing that as well, including various cat-repelling substances and physical obstruction like pillows... He's just so determined to get through them it's almost not funny. He thinks it's his god damned right to get into the fridge and other places he shouldn't be. (The fridge in particular is interesting because there is butter in there. And if there is anything in this world that Picolas loves it is butter, even though we have NEVER given it to him willingly. He'll come galloping the second we open the lid of the butter case.)

Aaaand he likes to chew my hair so I have to be very careful when nuzzling him so he doesn't take a huge chomp. He loves to wake me up by curling himself around my head on the pillow and chewing on my hair. That gets me up pretty fast tbh. He also has a strange tendency to cuddle with and bite my feet whenever I get back from a longer trip. It seems to be his fave way to show that he has missed me.

Next up: Grickwald!! 🥰

[eatcandlewax]

zoomed in pics of my friend's kitty kat from the time i was taking care of him! i would show pics of my cats but the mfs leave before i get my phone. i will catch them at some point so pls bear with me, for now here is Bolt 💓

OH MY GOD IS BABYNAJGMDJF

he's so tiny!!! and he did a little loaf ohmygod AND HIS LITTLE TOE BEANS SDKKSJGSJJG

[smells-like-mettaton]

Sensory asks- 55 for gaster, sans, and papyrus :)

Dis-carded

Rating: G Word Count: 986 Prompt: Finding old photographs you'd forgotten about Read on AO3: here Notes: probably both more angsty and stupid than what you'd expect lol. takes place post deltarune and post ut pacifist

XXX

“Hey, uh, Dad?” 

Sans stared down at one of the boxes Gaster had brought with him when they’d finally fished him out of the Void. You’d think that getting stuck in Nowhere would leave you with a lot of Nothing, but somehow Dad had remained as much a hoarder as ever. 

“You get into scrapbooking while you were stuck in time prison?” he asked, looking up.

“Scrapbook—? Ah, yes, that.” Gaster swept over to pull out the green leatherbound photo album. He tried to brush dust off the front of it, but just succeeded in dribbling it with black goop instead.

“Didn’t think there was enough light in there for takin’ pics.” Sans’s head tilted curiously.

“You have pictures of the Void???” Papyrus stuck his head in from the kitchen, where he was cooking a healthy post-dimensional-hopping meal. 

Sans wasn’t sure if Dad would be able to eat it or not. Maybe he’d be better off if he couldn’t.

“Not exactly.”

Gaster settled down on the living room carpet. He looked more like a cat becoming a loaf than he did a skeleton. No legs to speak of, just his floating hands gently flipping open the book.

“I had nearly forgotten about these. Ralsei compiled them for me, as an ‘Escaping The Abyss’ gift.” His wobbling smile stretched a little wider.

Ralsei… which one was that? Dad hadn’t given them a super thorough run-down of his, uh, ‘Void Adventures,’ yet. All Sans knew was that he’d screwed around with another universe, and one of his Void Buddies had finally patched Sans and Papyrus through to pick him up. Dess, her name was. She’d made some comments about teaching Gaster how to use a microwave.

“Did you make friends in the Abyss??” Papyrus plopped down next to him. “What was it like?”

“Well. Mostly, I kept watch over the Player. Their assistance was required to prevent the world from being covered in darkness.”

Gaster pointed to a photo of a glowing heart, the red blown out against the dark background. It looked just like Frisk’s soul, from the few times he remembered seeing ‘em in combat.

“But wasn’t your world already covered in darkness?” Papyrus asked. 

“The not-place where I resided was. But the world itself, was not. Mostly. Depending on your perspective.”

“Thanks. Real transparent explanation, there.” Sans grinned, as he always did. Dad didn’t know him well enough to see that it was tight at the corners.

Dad had been gone, and then he’d been back. No warning. No explanation. No apologies. Barely even an acknowledgement of what Sans and Papyrus had risked to tow his melting butt out. 

Papyrus didn’t seem to mind. Sans didn’t seem to, either. Mostly because expressing any kind of annoyance was too much effort.

(Also because it was Dad. Dad, who moved, and expected the world to move with him.)

(And for the most part, it did.)

“There is Kris and Susie’s first meeting with Ralsei… he was so shy at the time. I couldn’t code too strong of a personality into him, you see, or it might have clashed with the Player…”

“Huh?”

“And there’s Lancer—isn’t he just the cutest little thing? I modeled his form somewhat after what you looked like as a child, Sans. You always did enjoy wearing your hood up…”

Something in Sans’s stomach dropped. Gaster continued talking warmly, fondly, about the kids who he’d either made or manipulated. His voice turned to white noise, fuzzing in the back of Sans’s skull.

“Um, Dad?” Papyrus interrupted with a frown. 

“Yes, son?”

“You know that controlling people is bad, right?”

Gaster blinked. A glob of goop dripped from roughly where his shoulder should’ve been.

“It was to save the world. They understood.”

Sans sighed and shook his head.

“You drove several of them insane,” Papyrus insisted. “You have photos. You just showed us. You saw Spamtong—die? Did he die?”

Sans shrugged. He figured if Spamton was as much like Mettaton as the pictures implied, then losing his “BIG” body must have been like dying in any way that mattered.

“He poured his essence into the pair of spectacles. See, Ralsei is wearing him here when they fight—”

“DAD!” Papyrus gripped his ‘shoulders,’ his gloves sinking into the goop. “That is unacceptable!! You can’t just—throw people away when you’re done using them!”

Sans snorted. Couldn’t he, though? What had done with Sans and Papyrus, huh? Left ‘em as soon as he’d had bigger and better things to do.

“He was not discarded, as you can see—”

“Father!” Papyrus jumped to his feet, stomping his boot on the carpet. “No more arguing! There is only one thing to be done about this!!”

Sans’s eyelights flickered out, just for a minute. Papyrus really didn’t plan to go back there, did he? It sounded like they could spend years and not clean up all of Dad’s mistakes. Besides, how would you even turn a pair of glasses back into a person?

From inside his ribcage, though, Papyrus pulled out a tall bundle of Hallmark greeting cards. They had a picture of a skeleton and a joke on the front, though Sans couldn’t quite make out the words. Looked like something about birthdays? Getting old and dying, maybe? That was a bit morbid, by Papyrus’s standards.

“Apology cards!” Papyrus dropped the bundle on top of the photo album.

Gaster squinted at them.

“...These are for someone’s fiftieth birthday.” 

“Not after some help from my trusty Sharpie, they won’t be! Nyeh heh heh!”

Sans couldn’t help chuckling, though a few cards wouldn’t make a difference. Screwing up someone’s life that bad wasn’t something you could just apologize for. But maybe a few hours of cramping phalanges would teach Dad a lesson.

And at least next time, Sans and Papyrus would be here to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid.

[i-want-my-iwtv]

Will Louis have big cats as pets? They are well suited for his vampire-strength than house cats. There is a video on YouTube of a tiger saving a man from a leopard's attack. Louis seems like that guy who fosters love and loyalty in unexpected places.

I love videos like that that show that animals have compassion for other animals (including humans), too, even putting their own lives in danger.

Well, canonically, his vampire nature itself repels animals, sadly. Lestat mentions something about this re: horses. It's especially hard on Lestat re: dogs, here's when he meets Mojo:

I'd caught its scent as soon as it approached, but I did not see the animal until I came over the roof to the back of the house. I'd expected to hear from it before this time, for surely it would pick up my scent, know instinctively that I wasn't human, and then begin to sound its natural alarm of growls and barks. Dogs had done that enough to me over the centuries, though they don't always. Sometimes I can entrance them and command them. But I feared the instinctive rejection and it always sent a pain through my heart. This dog had not barked or given any clue that he knew I was there. He was staring intently at the rear door of the house and the butter-yellow squares of light falling from the window of the door onto the deep snow. - TOBT

---

Louis seems like that guy who fosters love and loyalty in unexpected places.

Yes, I love that!

There is fanon from a popular Louis roleplayer from years ago ( @merciful-death) that Louis did adopt a black cat (or she adopted him, really) named Harriet. She leaves him dead mice often, and according to Lestat roleplayer @devilsfool: “She hunts them to try to feed you. She’s convinced that you are a terrible hunter.” I love that! 🐁🐁🐁

(...I also see Louis as being visited frequently by a big stray tomcat, and Lestat doesn’t approve of this one either bc MORE CAT HAIR ON VELVET FURNITURE. Velvet is very cat-hair-ophillic. This cat doesn’t have a name but Louis calls him by a lot of baby names (”Mon chou,” “Sir Fluff,” “Kitten,”) and Lestat calls him by a lot of rude names (”Hairball,” “Trashface,” “Loaf”). This cat actually followed Harriet to their home one night, and he likes to nap with her when she allows it.)

As far as big cats, I think Louis would be fascinated with them as he is with most natural beauty, including plants, constellations/space (the new pics from NASA's Webb!), the simplicity and complexity of a crackling fire... I like to think they go to the zoo at night and admire the animals from afar.

As far as owning a big cat, that might be a danger to his towers of books and other collections! But I also like to think Gabrielle has taken him out to hunt in far off places and they've gotten close to sit among mountain lions and tigers.

I think Louis has a wide array of plants, night-blooming flowers, a lot of succulents 🌱🌱🌱

[emperor-palpaminty]

Cross and Kitten

This extremely short drabble is specifically for @space-b33 who came up with the AMAZING concept of crosshair and his lil cat! i have based this off of me and my lil cat, who has kept me going through countless ailments. Here is to you, Bee, you amazing artist, and to you Suds, my most precious feline. May I make you happy in this life and your next eight <3. (yes, that pic IS of my suds! He just turned 1 this month! :D)

also no this isn’t me putting my cat in the star wars universe why do you ask

Crosshair was a light sleeper- he doubted it came with being a clone, but it certainly came with his line of work. He could sleep in just about any place, and he had slept in just about any place- been there, done that. Currently, his location of rest was the floor of the gunship on the long flight across the planet to some god-forsaken base.

Something padded across his face, tickling him. Crosshair swatted at it, keeping his eyes closed. The feathery touch brushed his nose again, and Crosshair moved his hand more aggressively. He was greeted by a rather offended mrrp, and the scratching against his armor. Crosshair blinked, finally surrendering his sleep, staring down at two big brown eyes and a pink nose dangerously close to his. “Cat,” Crosshair muttered, watching the kitten.

The feline purred and tilted his head, tail swishing before settling around all four of his little socked paws. Mrowr.

“You’re real proud of yourself, huh?” Crosshair scratched his fingers over the kitten’s head and through his fur, between the comically large ears that jutted out from that sweet little face. The kitten pressed a fluffy cheek against his palm, purring loudly, pressing down onto all fours and closing his eyes.

Scowling, Crosshair narrowed his brows. “No, you’d better not fall asleep on me.” The cat purred, barely opening an eye, blinking lazily, and then closing it. “I know you can see me.”

Mrrp.

With an agitated grunt, Crosshair laid back down, feeling the cat settle down, somewhat resembling a black-and-white loaf of bread, if bread could be annoying and clingy.

And yet he couldn’t find it in him to move. The breathing of the cat was rhythmic, gentle, the crescent-closed eyes and the curled smile on the cat’s lips, slumping down and pressing his little jaw on Crosshair’s plastoid chest plate. If he was fully black, he almost would have blended in with Crosshair’s armor.

A white socked foot, with four perfect pink toe pads, stretched out, and the kitten stretched out across Crosshair’s chest with a yawn. Little pointed darts showed, white and sharp, but between those little lips they were practically harmless. The kitten collapsed on Crosshair's chest and purred satisfactorily, nestling against him.

Crosshair harrumphed, shaking his head, but he found a smile creeping onto his face as he stroked the cat's back again. "Stupid cat."

___

The kitten got along well with other members of the Batch, especially Omega, who would often subject him to horrid torture, particularly sticking little bows on his head. The cat didn't mind very often, and his favorite part was batting at Hunter's hair ties.

When they landed on site, the cat padded after Crosshair, examining his new environment couriously. After a moment, he sat down in the middle of the walkway and gave a singular meow?

Crosshair turned. "Cat. Come."

The cat blinked, then diverted its gaze at the sky.

"Cat," Crosshair added some force into his words. "Come." The cat did nothing, even when he added, "Now."

Mrrp.

Crosshair glanced back at the others, who seemed to all be watching in amusement. Wrecker had lifted up his helmet, watching with a gleeful grin on his face. With an exasperated sigh, he turned back to the cat, frowning. "Cat."

The cat leaned back, tail in the air, swishing couriously, and he purred. "No!" Crosshair frowned. "Now is not play time-"

The cat ran at him, full speed, a playful fury in his eyes. He pounced, landing on Crosshair's armored foot, glancing up at him and meowing.

Hunter chuckled from next to him, the tensity since Kamino lifting a little bit. "He's growing on ya."

"I could care less about this cat."

Mrowr? The kitten plunked down and rolled into his back, rubbing his face with his paws.

Crosshair smiled under his helmet where smiling was safe, and he leaned down, gently picking up the kitten, who crawled up around his shoulders. "Stupid cat." But good cat.

[sweetwatersong]

It starts out with a single stray cat.

The tabby shows up halfway through a q-word shift. Chim isn’t even sure how it gets in, given that the bay doors have been closed all morning, but he has more important questions. Such as:

“How long do you think it’s going to take Fi to notice?”

The lightweight is sleeping in a heap on the floor, one striped wing tucked over her head. She is for all intents and appearances dead to both the world and the fact that the tabby – which looks like it’s been on the wrong end of several fights, in short order – has decided to curl up next to her shoulder. It looks perfectly at home in the firehouse.

“An hour,” Hen offers after due consideration. Chim glances down at Bobby, who has paused to survey the scene and only shakes his head before continuing up the stairs.

“Two,” he counters. They shake on it.

Fi notices an hour and fifteen minutes later when she rolls over in her sleep. The tabby voices its general displeasure at nearly being squashed by five tons of dragon. She startles awake in response, scrambling with uncoordinated legs to get upright, but her bewildered alarm turns to evident displeasure when she hisses at the scrawny beast.

It has the gall to eye her, tattered ears flicking, before sauntering towards the back of the firehouse and promptly vanishing.

Chim unwraps a fresh stick of gum and accepts Hen’s five-dollar bill.

“Odds it shows up again? I’ll put ten on under a week.”

“We’ll see.”

Four days later Fi picks up the tabby by the scruff, grumbling under her breath, and deposits it outside in the pale sunlight.

It’s back within ten minutes.

Fi repeats this process two more times before whirling to Bobby, her eyes shot with orange, and warbling in a way that demands with absolute clarity he fix the problem.

Bobby shuts the back door that hadn’t closed all the way.

It’s back within half an hour.

Fi collapses in despair and lets it perch on her tail, purring contentedly.

Hen admits that the entertainment is well worth the ten dollars.

-

The next time the A-shift is on duty and a cat appears it is, in fact, cats plural. Two of them slip in through the bay doors open for spring’s weak warmth. Fi is half-awake enough to snap at the air around them as they settle beside her, paws tucked up under their bodies in what Hen calls “relaxed” and Buck calls “the loaf.” They watch her spend ten long minutes trying to prod the furry bastards away before giving up.

“Could it be because she’s warmer than the bricks?” Bobby offers when they speculate about the unusual behavior.

Eddie snaps a pic that he’s guaranteed to be sending to Christopher. “If that were the reason they’d be going to Fin and Ferro too.” Fin, deeply invested in some soap opera Ronaldo adores, is watching the latest episode with him on a laptop. Ferro is lazing around and looking just as amused as the humans at Fi’s dilemma.

“Maybe it’s because she hates them.” Chim catches Hen’s raised eyebrows. “What? Tell me that’s not clear anti-cat behavior.”

“You know, cats aren’t really attracted to people who hate them. It’s actually down to a mismatch between our signals. Cat haters avoid looking at or interacting with them, which in cat language is a sign you’re not going to get aggressive and are safe to be around.” Buck nearly misses catching the bagel he’s tossing from hand to hand when he gestures to emphasize his point. Chim adds a note to his mental list to get hacky sacks. They at least don’t get everything bagel toppings all over the floor.

“Well, whatever the reason, it looks like she’s not having cat pate today.” Hen smiles as the long-haired gray ignores Fi’s latest attempt to dislodge it. She snorts, displeased, and goes boneless with an angry huff.

The cats continue to look particularly pleased with themselves.

-

Two cats turn into four, then five, then seven, all coming unerringly on days when the F Wing is at the firehouse. By summer the 118 captains have collectively given up on trying to manage the invasion and Fi has given up on deterring them. The crew has not given up on the tooth-rotting sweetness of the situation. (There are many, many pictures of the feline-draped dragon. Notably not on social media, for reasons of health and safety regs as well as the brass being unlikely to appreciate it as much as the crews do.)

It's one of the hotter, stickier days in July, where tempers wear thin and patience wears thinner, that Fi finally snaps.

At last count there were easily ten strays curled up or stretched across the dozing tiger dragon. She erupts out of the pile, scattering cats to the wind, and flares her wings to their full length. Ferro ducks and complains in a rumble. Fi pays him absolutely no attention. The entirety of her focus is on the cats who have mostly landed on their feet and now look at her, disgruntled. The ridges on Fi’s tail clatter against the concrete as she lashes it from side to side but it never comes near one of the cats. Although Chim can’t hear what she’s ranting – no one except the other dragons can – he’s willing to bet it’s in the psychic equivalent of all caps and possibly italics.

The human firefighters freeze. If they’re anything like Chim they’re caught between intervening and wanting to truly believe that despite the impressive display of saw-edged teeth, Fi isn’t going to actually eat the cats.

It’s into this frozen tableau that the tabby, original stray and originator of this trend, appears. It strolls in with complete casualness from the back of the floor, entirely unconcerned with the intimidating display before it. It’s carrying something in its mouth.

Fi stares at it.

The tabby makes its way to her nearest paw and sets down its burden. The tiny shape mews.

Fi stares at the kitten in turn.

The tabby licks the kitten’s head, purring, and trots back to the staff door.

The kitten mews again.

“Hen-“

She shushes him.

Fi’s head swings closer to inspect the kitten.

The tabby comes back in, carrying another bundle of black and white fur. It – she – deposits the second one and heads off again.

“Are we going to do something?” Chim whispers.

Hen shushes him, louder.

The third kitten, it seems, is the last. The tabby sets it with its siblings, now all making tiny kittens sounds, and arches against Fi’s leg with pleasure.

When Fi settles down onto her side, eyes glowing blue, the cats – including their newest additions –return to their rightful places.

“Did you think she was going to eat them? Because I definitely didn’t.”

Hen shoots him a look that says loud and clear that she sees through his shit and rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

So, Chim thinks, is Fi.

[legoprime]

10 Tag

Tagged by @vonuberwald!

Rules: Tag 10 (or not 10) followers you want to get to know better.

● Birthday: May 24th ● Gender: None ● Relationship status: Single for just shy of a year now ● Favourite color: Green ● Pets: None at the moment, sadly ● Wake up time: 4:30am, way too goddamn early ● Love or lust?: Don’t really do lust on account of being asexy, so it’s gotta be love! ● Favourite food: Bread, basically. I could eat an entire loaf of French bread by myself. ● Met a celebrity?: I met Sebastian Bach completely coincidentally when I was 15. We were in New York to see CATS before the show ended on Broadway, our hotel was almost next door to the theatre where the Jekyll and Hyde musical was, and he was playing the lead role at that time. We had to walk through their crowd on our way back to the hotel after our show and he was there signing autographs, I snuck in to take a pic because I had a friend who was a fan of the show and he saw me, pulled me out of the crowd, and got a picture taken with his arm around me. Pretty exciting when it happened, a little creepy to look back on now. ● Last song listened to: Bent - Matchbox Twenty ● First kiss: Like kindergarten, but okay first actual real kiss was in junior high with one of my best friends who I definitely would have ended up dating if we hadn’t moved to another state a year later. It would’ve ended badly so I guess it worked out alright this way. ● Tall or short: Pretty average, 5′5″

Not tagging 10 people but I will tag @lukatisus and @un-shit-yourself!