yes cats are family

anonymous asked:

My family doesn't accept that I'm gay. Is my cat okay with it?

yes, cat love you no matter what, consider replace family with cats for unconditional acceptance

6

Ian and I are happy to announce that we have recently adopted a new member of the family so please meet Nugget!* Nugget is a 6 year old Bombay Capricorn queen who loves cheek rubs and lying in between me and Ian in bed. Like her new mom, she loves cuddles and has IBS. She also goes by Nug, Nugz, Dank Nug, Nuggy, and sweet baby angel. As soon as we saw her kennel card (bottom photo aka Ian’s favourite photo of her), we knew she was the Nugget for us and meeting her confirmed what we knew: that this was the sweet cuddly lapcat for us. We are so glad we rescued this spooky sweet baby angel!

* I know what you’re thinking: yes, Nugget is a family name.

MariChat May Day 4: Romeo

This one is for my own personal Romeo, who has been my “creative consultant” on much of what I’ve written.  Thank you, WarBond, for helping me brainstorm.  And, you know, for making our story a happy one.  I love you!


Chat Noir heard a clatter and a shriek as he approached Marinette’s balcony, and he picked up his pace.  Had someone broken in?  Was she ok?  He dove in through her open window rather than using the trap door, and landed in a tense crouch, poised to attack if the situation warranted it.

The situation did not warrant it.

Marinette stared at him dumbly, frozen in the act of collecting several scattered pieces of fabric and sewing supplies from the floor.  A huge grey-blue cat was similarly frozen, with one paw stretched out to bat at a seam-ripper.   He stood from his crouch.  “Um, hi?”

“Chat!  What are you doing?”

“Um, saving you?”

Marinette blinked, and sat back on her heels to look up at him.  “Saving me?”

He shrugged.  “I heard the crash, and a yell and—”

 Crash!  

They both looked at the cat, who’d used Marinette’s distraction as an opportunity to jump up to her desk.  He’d just knocked a tin of pins to the floor, and was busy knocking around a spool of black thread.

“Romeo!  Romeo, no!”  Marinette stood to take the spool, but fell into her desk chair with a gasped “Ow!”

“Are you ok, Princess?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  I’m just stepped on a pin.”  She plucked it from her foot and snatched up the spool.  “Can you help me clean all this up?   Please?”

“So, who is this?”  He knelt and began collecting pins with a smirk.  “Am I not enough cat for you?”

She gave him a withering glare, but otherwise ignored his second question. “I’m cat-sitting for Rose while her—ROMEO!”  She scooped up the big gray cat and dumped him on the chaise, then knelt by Chat to collect her fabric.  “Ugh, that darn cat is going to destroy my room!”

He chuckled.  “Just cat-sitting, then?”

“Yes. I can’t wait for Rose and her family to get back.  He’s a sweet cat, but he’s still young and really playful.”  With all of the fabric stacked neatly, and the pins returned to their tin, the both began to collect the various items that belonged in her sewing basket.

“How long will they be—huh?”  He glanced behind himself to see that Romeo had captured the end of his belt tail in his front paws, and was kicking at it with his hind feet.  “It’s a good thing that isn’t a real tail.”

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” she groaned, tugging the tail away.  “He’s been cooped up in my room, since we can’t risk him getting into the bakery.  I think he’s going a little stir-crazy.”

“It’s alright.  Have you been playing with him?”

Marinette blinked.  “You’re supposed to play with cats?”

“Well, sure.  Especially young ones.”  He frowned.  “Didn’t Rose bring any toys for him?”

“No. But, maybe I can make something?”  She finished putting away her sewing things, and pulled out some yarn scraps.  “Do you have cats?”

“Just my kwami.  But, I did a bit of reading on cats back when he first showed up.  He’s not a house cat, but it definitely helped to explain some of his personality quirks.”  He watched curiously as she began wrapping the yarn around her fingers.  “What are you doing?”

“Making a yarn puff for Romeo,” she replied.  She continued wrapping the yarn until she came to the end, and then worked it off of her hand.  “Here, hold this, and don’t let it unravel.”

He did as she asked.  She picked up a second yarn scrap, and tied the end of it tightly around the middle of the bundle, so that there was one very long tail.  Then she took it from him, and cut the loops at either end with a pair of sharp sewing shears.  “There!”  She fluffed it into a poofy ball, and dangled it from the long tail triumphantly.  “Instant cat toy!”

“That’s perfect!  May I?”  She nodded, and he took it from her fingers.  But when he turned to the chaise, the cat was gone.

“Wait, where did he go?”  Marinette frowned, looking around her room.   “He’s got to be here, somewhere.”

He jiggled the string, making the puff bounce at the end, but the cat stayed hidden.  “Do you have a little bell?”

“I do!  Hang on.”  She went to her stash and rummaged around a bit, and returned with a small gold bell similar to the one at Chat’s throat.   “Will this work?”

“Perfect!”  He threaded the tail of the yarn through the loop on the bell, and slid it all the way down to the fluff ball at the end.  He jiggled it again, and this time, it made a gentle chiming sound.  “Romeo, Romeo,” he called, still shaking the toy.  Then he stopped, and grinned at her in sudden delight.

“Chat,” she began, with a horrified look on her face.  “Don’t you dare!”

His grin broadened, and he waggled his brows.  “ ‘Oh Romeo, Romeo, where the heck art thou, Romeo?’”

“Ugh, Chat!!!”


Author’s note:  Romeo is a Russian Blue, and was based on a cat that my mom had forever ago.  Zeus was beautiful and enormous and I have always wanted to have one, myself.  If you want to see a few pictures, I’ll be posting them here in just a bit.  :)

yes i do count the family cat and dog deaths happening within two months of each other when i was 18 as a mild trauma

anonymous asked:

There's a small kitten sitting on the park bench staring at Steel. It's a little black and tan colored scottish fold. It stares lovingly at Steel before slowly walking up to them and rubbing it's head against their hand. It appears to have taken a liking to Steel...

 They weren’t used to this.

 They’d sit on the park for ours, smoking, staring at the trees, occasionally lighting up some dead leaves for fun. It was part of their routine, a little way they’d found to waste some time before they’d have to head home; back to chores and homework and being questioned. Here, in the park, there was a peculiar serenity despite the passerbys. It felt more like home than that apartment did.

 But that day nothing could console them; not even the squirrels, not even the clear sky or the trees. Everything was lifeless and dead. Steel’s eye was focused somewhere in the distance, but it wasn’t really observing anything. They’d just slipped into a paralyzing numbness, but not that usual, empty kind. This time it was mixed with a constant anxiety, a feeling like someone had put pebbles in their stomach. They couldn’t do anything other than sit and stare and occasionally suffer a nightmarish flashback to recent events. All they could do was sit idly on that bench, barely managing to take a drag of face wreck.

 When the small creature approached, they didn’t pay it much mind at first. But then something in the tiny sounds it made -Steel’s ears were sharp enough to hear the faintest hint of a purr- and the way it rubbed over their hand made them turn around and lift their hand to let the kitten into their lap. It was small, warm, a ball of fluff. Something oddly familiar lied in its movement. That something made their heart clench.

 They spent the rest of their afternoon there, sitting with that kitten on the bench and petting it gently. It was probably falling asleep and stormed off to chase a butterfly once or twice. Eventually the street lights came on and it was time to head home unless they wanted Crimson to scream in their face again. Still, as they started to get up the tiny creature jumped after them. Steel froze, turned around and slowly picked it up, supporting its back with one palm just like they’d read you were supposed to do with small kittens like that.

“…do I smell like milk t’ya, fluffball?”, they muttered. Their voice was tired but that little kitten didn’t seem to understand the darkness in their tone. It was innocent, pure and even happily played with their fingers, pawing at them gently. That touch, that expression only made things harder for Steel. They swallowed a wince and decided to take the little guy home and see if they had any canned cat food left.

 They couldn’t take the cat inside their apartment, as pets weren’t allowed in the complex. Still, they didn’t have it in them to leave him waiting outside. So they just removed all of their books from their backpack -fortunately they rarely carried actual schoolbooks so that wasn’t hard to do- and dumped them by the entrance, instead placing the kitten instead. They snuck upstairs, got a can of cat food stored in their closet and ran back downstairs with just one glare from Narcissus -he was sitting on his armchair, doing his crossword as per usual.

 Finally they returned to the entrance, placed the can down and held the kitten up for a few more seconds before feeding it.

 So small. So pure. So innocent.

 So sensitive.

 So fragile!

 They could squeeze it ever so slightly and its eyeballs would gauge out!

…Now imagine if someone slapped it.

 Imagine if someone threw a magazine in its face and kicked it.

anonymous asked:

I'm moving across the country and I wanna bring my cat, she is 6 years old and I've had her since I adopted her when she was 1, I really really wanna bring her with me but I'm not sure if I can? I've never had to move her so drastically and I'm not sure how I can go about it? I really really don't want to give her up, she's helped me so much and she's my family. (Yes I am a crazy cat lady but chill it's only the one and I love her very much 😂)

She is young, so moving her will be easier than moving an older cat. Some cats don’t mind traveling all that much, but some do. If she has a nervous disposition, you can get something from your vet to knock her out for several hours. This might be a good option if you’re traveling by plane, because not all airlines allow pets in passenger cabins.

She’s going to be upset and freaked out for a little while after the whole affair, but she’ll get over it. Just get ready for the cold shoulder for a week or two. Good luck!

pxelmango  asked:

🐱👑🌸🌿🌈? :-)

🐱 have any pets?

yes? my family has a black outdoor cat that adopted us about 6 years ago! she is so sweet and is named kitty (go figure). along with many neighborhood raccoons and possums (florida eep)

👑 favorite Disney princess

ariel! 

🌸 favorite flower

hibiscus <3 we used to have bushes of them all around our house and they smell so pretty

🌿 favorite season

autumn! i am visting boston now and the trees are just turning and the air is so crisp. i love it

🌈 favorite color

teal and rose gold! everything i own are those colors

thank you for these! they were very cute 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 |

Dance Lessons ~ Part 3

Features: Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass, Severus Snape, Reader
Pairing: slight Draco x Reader

{In which Draco is a slightly arrogant toad and the reader gets forced into an awkward situation}

_._._._

The weeks leading up to the Yule Ball had been… interesting, to say the least. There had been dozens of dance invitations that had been extravagant and elegant and plenty more that had been awkward and forgettable. Daphne, meanwhile, had been in utter bliss - there were breakups and hookups and everything in between - and Daphne was aware of all of them. She had taken to peeking into abandoned classrooms to try to spot any illicit meetings that may have been occurring. 

You had tried to hide out in your dormitory to avoid all of the drama, but Pansy Parkinson had sent just enough threatening glares your way to make you feel unsafe in your own bed. Daphne swore up and down that it was because Draco was going to ask you to the ball. You disagreed. 

One particular day as you had been leaving the library, Gregory Goyle had run into you. It was odd that he was even in the library to begin with, but you still accepted his offer to pick up your books and carry them back to the common room. It made sense though once the two of you were alone. He had somehow gotten it into his thick skull that you would be so thrilled that he helped you that you would graciously accept his Yule Ball invitation. Which is exactly what he asked you. You had allowed a small smile but firmly said no. 

His face hadn’t changed expression so you had snatched back your books and scurried down the corridor before he could say or do anything. 

Gregory had then proceeded to follow you around Hogwarts for the next several days. You successfully ignored him for close to three days but when he showed up as you exited the girls’ lavatory, you had had enough. No one knew exactly what had happened, (Gregory wasn’t telling,) but when he spotted you sitting next to the Bloody Baron at breakfast the next morning, he nearly wet himself. 

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museelo  asked:

hello! do you have any bb!harry and the family cat headcanons? :D

oh hell yes i do

FIRST OF ALL for heavy baby harry/family kitty fun read chapter two of this

my the-cat tag

here is my potter fam reboot tag which is james/lily/harry and there may be some cat headcanons in there

but to summarize everything that may be in those:

they were basically best friends

except it was kind of one sided

definitely one sided

cat spent a lot of time in hiding actually

when she wasn’t hiding, she was trying to reclaim it’s rightful status on james’s lap

except harry was usually on james’s lap so that was a problem

one time harry shut up the cat in a drawer

harry’s first accidental magic was summoning the cat to him (that went well)

the cat perched on the edge of harry’s cot to watch with great suspicion the charmed broomstick and snitch mobile hanging from the ceiling

harry pulled the cat’s tail whenever the cat did this but he just couldn’t help himself

harry’s first word was ca (cat)

he could meow at 13 months

chasing after the cat on his broomstick was his legit favourite game

the cat used the broomstick as a scratching post and that did not go over well

since harry’s uncle changed into a dog to amuse him on more than one occasion, baby harry sometimes wondered what person the cat actually was

harry had long babbling conversations with the cat

harry definitely dropped his scraps of food on the floor for the cat to eat

harry also definitely loved to play in the cat’s food bowl

harry loved to play in the basket full of cat toys and did not understand why the cat wasn’t just as interested in his basket full of baby toys

ten signs your assistant is cheating on you with another job (2/10)

ii. strange phone calls in strange languages

Kiera has an unspoken rule about cursing.

When Cat lets a few unsavory words slip past her lips and descend on the late afternoon as she works out a mistake one of her many incompetent subordinates made, Kiera always wrinkles her nose and shakes her head at Cat like a disappointed mother.

It’s not something Cat notices very early on because she has twenty hundred other things to do before paying attention to her flustered assistant- say, like running an entire media company- but as the months turned into years and Cat learned little tidbits about her assistant, she’s surprised to find that she’s never heard Kiera curse, not once, not ever.

At least not in English.

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