freakin meow

This is a serious X-Men thing

Like, so serious.

I don’t know why I never thought of this before.

Sooooo, Sabertooh/Victor Creed is feral, yeah?

His main animal counterpart is a cat, yeah?

He freakin’ said “meow” in X-Men Evolution.

So tell me.

When he is affectionate, or when he is super tired and preparing to sleep…

…Does Sabertooth KNEAD?




Originally posted by gifcats


Things I’ve learned about cats from hanging out with one for 12ish hours

1. Don’t touch the tum, even if it looks like it wants you to (unless you like sharp)

2. Cat claws are sharp

3. The reason so many cat toys are attached to a string and a stick is because cat claws are sharp

4. If cat looks sleepy and comes over to your leg, there’s a good chance he’s gonna do the kneading thing, which is 50% adorable and 50% sharp

5. Cat tongues are also kinda sharp

6. Kitty litter smells weird and gets everywhere really fast

7. Clawing posts are a super good idea, but apparently not nearly as fun to rub your sharp claws on as a couch, or Jo’s leg

8. Meows are freakin adorable

9. Purring is super freakin adorable

10. Cats have like 3x as many sharp bits as dogs, and they are much sharper

11. TOE BEANS!!!!

9 Lives

Sequel to Cat Got Your Tongue (and Body)


After a few hours, Sam grew frustrated. “None of these are helping,” he said, shutting the last book he’d brought over. “Have you found anything, Dean?”

“No,” the elder Winchester said, shutting his laptop. “There are no documented cases of people turning into cats except for Professor McGonagall.”

Sam shot a look at his brother. Did he really make that reference? “Maybe we should go look at the room where it happened,” he said, gently picking you up and setting you down on the couch before standing. “Maybe there’s a clue there.”

You stretched, arching your back in a delicious manner that you’d never been able to achieve as a human, and followed the Winchesters down the hall towards the scene of the crime. The room didn’t look out of the ordinary. The bowl Sam had been using still sat on the floor, contents spilled from the minor explosion. Your clothes still lay in a pile across from it. 

Dean walked over to the clothes. “These Y/N’s?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, walking over to where he’d been. He began scouring the area for any sign of what had happened. You began sniffing around– your sense of smell had increased since your transformation and you found it quite fascinating.


You and Sam turned to Dean, who was holding up the bra you’d been wearing hours earlier. The black lace captivated him for a moment. “Didn’t think Y/N would wear something like this.”

“MROW!” you said, racing over to him. No one should touch your underthings except you and those very few who were lucky enough to sleep with you, and Dean was neither of those things.

“Whoa, hey, okay,” he said, dropping the bra. “No need to go all Cujo on me.”

“Cujo was a dog,” Sam reminded his brother.

At that moment, a noise was heard from a dark corner. The three of you turned towards it to see Gabriel.

“Heya, boys,” he said, stepping into the light. He looked down at you. “What’s new, Pussy Cat?”

“Gabriel!” Dean said. “Are you behind this?”

The trickster smiled. “I’m glad you’re beginning to recognize my work.”

“Turn her back!” Sam said.

“Relax. She’ll turn back.”


“No can do, slick,” Gabriel said. “I can’t interfere with it. It has to run its course.”

“And just how long does the course go?” Dean asked.

“Cats have nine lives, cat spells last nine days.”

“You son of a bitch!”

“Why’d you do it, Gabriel?” Sam asked.

“Because I haven’t messed with you boys in a while. And you,” he said, turning his attention back to you. “I haven’t had a chance to truly mess with you yet.”

You hissed and darted towards the angel, but Sam grabbed you around the waist. He held you next to his chest, holding on even as you wriggled to get out. “No, Y/N,” he said.

You stopped thrashing but stared at Gabriel, growling all the while. This only brought a smile to his face.

“Check you boys later,” he called before he disappeared.

Sam turned to his brother. “Well… What now?”

“Nine days,” Dean muttered. “We’re stuck with a cat for nine freakin’ days.”

“Meow,” you said. You didn’t like the idea any more than he did. Although you had to admit, you kind of liked being curled up in Sam’s arms.

“I guess we should go to the pet store,” Sam said. “We have to do what we can to take care of Y/N.”

Dean grumbled but agreed that it was a good first step. The three of you went out to the garage, where Baby sat gleaming. Dean found an old box and put a towel in it. “You stay in this,” he said. “And don’t you dare think of scratching up those leather seats.”

Sam gently put you in the box and set the box at his feet. You didn’t particularly like this spot, and the view was less-than-thrilling (and a little awkward, if truth be told). So as Dean walked around to the driver’s side, you hopped up into Sam’s lap.

“Y/N, no, Dean said–”

“Hey!” Dean said as he settled into his seat. “I told you to stay in the box.”

“Meow!” you protested.

“I’ll hold on to her,” Sam said. “Don’t worry.”

Dean scowled and begrudgingly started the car. During the ride into town, you found yourself noticing every bird and squirrel that you passed. You pressed a paw to the window, wanting very much to catch those pesky creatures. Sam noticed the movement and gently took your paw down before Dean could see.

At the pet store, Sam grabbed a cart and put you in the baby seat of it. “Don’t jump out,” he said, pushing the cart down the first aisle. Both he and Dean stared at the bags and bags of food, unsure what to get you. None really appealed to you, so you were no help.

“Hi, can I help you?”

The employee was a cute girl, mid-twenties—probably a college student. Dean’s face lit up and he went into smooth-talker mode. “I certainly hope so,” he said. “My brother and I just got this cat and we’re a little unsure what all we need to take care of her.”

The girl turned her attention to you. “Oh, what a cute kitty!” she squealed. “Can I pet her?”

“Of course,” Dean said. You shot him a look, but allowed the girl to pet you. After all, if you could get to be on Dean’s good side, these next nine days wouldn’t be so horrible. You tried not to roll your eyes as she began to baby-talk to you. You were glad your cheeks were covered in fur, as you were no doubt blushing when the girl found a magical little spot behind your ear, causing you to emit a loud purr.

The girl was indeed very helpful. She picked out some food for you, as well as a litter box and a few toys. “Will she be needing a bed?” the girl asked.

“No, she has a box,” Dean replied.

Sam elbowed his brother. “Actually, she already has a bed at home. Thank you, though.”

The girl smiled and gave you another scratch behind your ear before walking off to help the next customer. Dean spied something on the rack next to him. He picked up a small green collar with a bell on it and tossed it into the cart. “I want to know where you are at all times,” he said, looking down at you.

“Mew,” you said, trying to look innocent.

The boys threw the bags in the trunk and headed back home. Once there, Sam set up the litter box in your bathroom, figuring that made the most sense. While he was busy with that, Dean slipped the collar around your neck. Every step you took made the little bell jingle. He smiled to himself. “Try and sneak up on me with that,” he said.

‘Challenge accepted,’ you thought.


Later that evening, Dean stood at the stove cooking dinner for him and Sam. It smelled delicious. You wound your way around his legs, purring ever so slightly. “Get out,” he said, looking down at you. “Go on. Scat.”

When he set the plates at the table, you jumped up in between the brothers. “No,” Dean said through a mouthful of food. “You have your own food.”

You looked behind you at the bowls on the floor. The little brown nibbles didn’t look enticing at all. When Dean left momentarily to get something out of the kitchen, you grabbed a bite of his food.

“Y/N!” Sam whispered. “Stop! Dean will kill you.” As he heard his brother’s footsteps, he picked you up and placed you on the floor.

Dean sat and looked at his plate. “Did you take some of my food?” he asked his brother.

“Of course not,” Sam replied.


That night, you curled up on your bed, but it felt off. You liked your space, but there was too much of it for your current size. You padded out of your room and headed down the hall to Sam’s, but the door was shut. Next to it, Dean’s door was cracked open ever so slightly. You poked your head in. You could see Dean’s silhouette laying in bed. You carefully stepped into the room, cursing the tiny jingle the bell emitted. Dean didn’t move.

Cautiously, you approached the bed, but Dean never took notice. You softly hopped up onto the bed and looked at the man before you. His face was soft in sleep– he didn’t appear to have noticed your presence (somewhat surprising for a hunter, but perhaps he was more used to sensing a human’s presence).

You circled around a few times before curling up in the empty corner at the foot of the bed. You felt that Dean’s proximity to you was a comfort and the bed no longer felt so big. You drifted off into slumber, only to be awoken a few hours later by Dean’s yelling.

“Dammit, Y/N! Get out!”

You were slightly hurt that he was shunning you so harshly. Did he really despise cats that much that he couldn’t see you for yourself?

Sam ran in, having heard his brother yell. “Dean! What’s going on?”

“Take her.”

Sam blinked away the sleep hazing his eyes and saw you curled up on the mattress. He sighed. “Come on, Y/N,” he said, walking over and picking you up. You stared harshly at Dean over Sam’s shoulder.

Once in Sam’s room, he set you gently on the bed. “Sorry, Y/N,” he said, sitting next to you. “I don’t know why Dean is so upset.” He looked at you and you looked up at him, still feeling the sting of Dean’s rejection. “He shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Sam said, reaching out a hand and gently scratching behind your ears. You took comfort in the gesture and rubbed your head against his hand.

“You can sleep in here tonight, Y/N,” Sam said, stretching out on his bed. You curled up next to him, closer than you had been to Dean.

The next morning, while Sam was in the shower, you used the furniture in his room to climb up on the top of the door. You’d seen cats do it before and you wanted to see if that was truly possible.

Sam walked out of the bathroom and saw you on your perch. “Well now, how’d you get up there?” he asked. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast.” You jumped down into his open arms and climbed up on his shoulders. He laughed as he headed for the kitchen.

Dean looked up as his brother walked in. He saw you perched on Sam’s shoulders. “Nice accessory,” he said.

“Dean, I think you should apologize to Y/N for last night.”

“She should apologize to me!”

A low growl started in your throat, but Sam shushed you by running a hand down your neck. He picked you up and set you on the floor, setting about preparing breakfast for the two of you. He even ripped up a piece of bacon and put it on top of the dry cat food in your bowl.

“You do realize that it’s still Y/N in there, right?” Sam asked, sitting across from his brother. “She has feelings.”

Dean looked over at you. “Yeah…” he said, looking down at his plate.


“I’m not apologizing to a cat, Sam,” Dean said, standing and taking his plate to the sink.


Dean sat on the couch, watching a football game and drinking beer. You stepped into the room and froze in your spotted Dean. He looked over at you, your bell having alerted him of your presence. “Hey,” he said.

You sat down where you were, unsure what was going to happen.

Dean took another sip of beer. “Listen, I’m… sorry about last night.”

You cocked your head to the side.

“I shouldn’t have yelled. It’s just that you startled me, and like I said, cats put me on edge…”

It sounded sincere. You stood and made to take a step toward him, but thought better of it.

Dean noticed. He looked around and spotted something on the end table. He picked up a catnip mouse and held it out toward you. “Here,” he said, tossing the mouse near his feet, a proverbial olive branch.

Your instincts kicked in and you raced over to the mouse. You began to bat it about, chasing it around the rug. The drug began to make you hyperactive, causing you to dart about the room at high speeds. Dean began to laugh, enjoying watching you play.

You accidentally batted the mouse under a shelf. You tried to squeeze under it, but couldn’t reach it. “Mew,” you said, mourning the loss of your toy. Dean looked over.

“Lose your toy?” he asked, getting up and walking over to the shelf you sat in front of. He plopped down on his stomach and reached under the shelf. He pulled the tiny mouse out and blew a little dust off of it. “Here you go,” he said, placing it in front of you.

You watched him walk back to the couch. You gently batted the mouse once before cautiously walking over to the couch as well. Dean was focused on the television. You gracefully jumped up next to him, bracing yourself for a backlash from him. Dean only glanced at you from the corner of his eye. You bravely took a few steps over to him, holding your breath.

You froze as Dean made a move, but watched as he merely placed his arm over the back of the couch. Was he opening himself up to you? You took two more steps and closed the gap between the two of you– he made no move to push you away. You decided to test the boundary even more and gently stepped into his lap. You felt his legs tense, but he didn’t say anything. You curled into a ball, feeling tired, an after effect from the catnip.

A few minutes later, you felt Dean’s fingers gently run down your back. You purred and looked up at him. He looked down at you. “Don’t you dare tell Sam about this.”

Okay so what if galaxies were some beings school project and all the kids have made very well done galaxies with beautiful thriving societies that are very civilized. But this one kid slacked off on his project and created a galaxy (our galaxy) with beings that are cruel to others and bring destruction everywhere they go so he gets an F.

moral of the story, don’t bullshit your projects kids