Summer Roosts

azusas:

u think ur a flower, but really ur the whole meadow 

Far Worse Things

Nepeta wasn’t a meowbeast. 

But you were more than aware she acted like one on many, many godforsaken occasions. 

There were times you didn’t entirely hate it. You just found it irritating. Even when you were alive, long before you died and somehow ended up on LOLCAT with Nepeta, you’d seen her less annoying methods of acting like a cat. The purring, the cat puns, the tail she had. You had always known it was just her, being a weirdo, being that bizarre kitty girl who had been killing imps with her own teeth and claws.

But there were other times you minded it very much. And those times happened to outweigh the times she wasn’t being annoying. For example, you’d trip over her sometimes, coming back from another dream bubble. She’d be sprawled out on the ground, sleeping, as if sleeping on the floor was a perfectly normal thing to do.

Other times, she’d grab you and groom your head. Groom it. Like a fucking meowbeast. Not with something normal, like a comb. She’d do it with her tongue. She’d drag her fucking tongue over your head whilst holding you with an iron grip, and she’d leave your scalp wet from all of that. It freaked you the fuck out, too. Who licked people, anyways?

Sometimes she’d grab the ends of your cape, and tangle herself in it, rolling around and pulling at loose threads. You usually tried to deter her from doing so; after all, you didn’t want her ripping the goddamn thing. It looked ridiculous, sure, but it’d look a hundred times for ridiculous if Nepeta was trying to chase and mangle it.

But when she was leaning against you, purring, gripping your arm and threatening to to fall asleep on your lap, you supposed there could be worse things. With Nepeta especially, far worse things. 

___________________________________________________________________

Critique is great, as per usual!

communistbakery:

astronomers got tired after watching the moon go around the earth for 24 hours so they decided to call it a day

queerer:

people with anxiety disorders are so brave like we feel unbearable amounts of anxiety over doing things like going to the doctor or getting on a plane or talking on the phone or taking a test but sometimes we find the strength to do those things anyway even though we’re terrified out of our minds and that’s really amazing. people with anxiety are brave as hell 

booknutty:

solemn-things:

booknutty:

if we got all the cats in the world to meow at exactly the same time how loud would it be

Well the average cat meow is like 65/75dB (above speaking volume but below shouting) and there are about 2bn cats in the world, so, by that math, 130-150bn dB. Which is about 100 million jets taking off at once.

catastrophically loud 

white blood cell:
bacteria:
white blood cell:
bacteria: i came out here to have a good time and honestly i am feeling so attacked right now

markruffalwhoa:

"Science side of tumblr" is just Carlos running hundreds of blogs at once.

wylderwolfy:

if you’re ever sad, please try and imagine how cool and hardcore Cecil Gershwin Palmer would think you are, living in a world with wheat toast and mountains, and how many times he might call you “neat”

perfectly-imperfect-carlos:

donutsornonuts:

We are gathered here today because SOMEBODY *glares at coffin* couldn’t stay alive.

Cecil when he is forced to attend another intern’s funeral

shimmervee:

cecil breaking into wzzz with a case of wine and a copy of some nights

cecil hoarding puppies after an infestation and choking back a sob when animal control comes to take them away. goddamn it palmer you do this every time

cecil cutting out pictures from magazines (fashion and otherwise) and lining the inside of his closet with them

cecil as a teen listening to leonard burton’s show and feeling such a thrill at saying “GREETINGS…FROM NIGHT VALE” in perfect time with his hero

cecil as a young man travelling through europe and looking up at the clearest, quietest night sky he’s ever seen, feeling a twinge of homesickness both for his night vale and for a place he’s never visited

cecil gershwin palmer