Regretting It Less, Standby.

quick question why does your cat command you to print something on the printer

he really likes to watch the printer print. It seems like he thinks there’s some kind of creature in there that I have the mysterious power to summon that he can then hunt for sport?

he sticks his entire arm inside the printer and breaks it if I don’t put some kind of physical burrier between him and the printer but like he purrs so loud when it starts printing and will beg harder for people to print things than he will for treats.

he just loves hunting the printer so much. he even tried to climb inside the place the paper comes out of the printer when he was a kitten.

No matter where he is in the apartment if the printer makes a noise he sprints full speed. He also knows which button to press to get the printer to print like the ink levels info and alignment sheet, so you have to make sure it’s off or locked up or he will print nonstop himself and then attack the printer and jam it.

is it inconvenient that my cat is obsessed with the printer? yes, but damn if it’s not also adorable.

I don’t actually have a ton of photos of him sticking his whole arm in there though because stopping him from jamming the printer is usually a task that involves all of my arms and also all of my roommates arms.

Welcome to Mimic Ikea! Don't worry about it.

More art for @st-whalefall ! Their fic is totally amazing, I can't get it out of my head! The third image is from a brief moment in chapter six, looking up at the false sky.

this got Numbers on twitter so i’m posting here cause i literally have nothing else going on but working on my webcomic which you can read here and support here

Reblog if you write fic and people can inbox you random-ass questions about your stories, itemized number lists be damned.

No, you thought. It couldn't possibly be for such a stupid, innocuous reason.

You had studied, for years and years. You had heard every single theory there was to be had, from the most complicated of conspiracies to sometimes the world simply being like that. One line of chaos after another, looping infinitely upon itself, spirally towards its own self destruction. The oroubouros of life, a snake eating its own tail.

But no. No. Years of your life, dedicated, practically WASTED for a simple innocuous answer.

The common denominator, that aligned with the undead hordes. Every single one, every one that struck out and stuck together in shambling groups of viscera and horror, had one thing in common.

OR6A2, an appropriately scientific sounding name for something that influenced both the creation and the behavior of the undead. But OR6A2 was a smell receptor gene. Again, not something that was out of the realm of common thought. Some people bathed religiously in an attempt to keep the hordes away.

It only sometimes worked.

But no. What OR6A2 was commonly known for, what oh so COMMONLY happened with it, was that it was responsible for cilantro tasting like soap to some people.

That was it. The stupid, INSIGNIFICANT commonality, was smell receptors telling zombies that some people tasted bad. Did some humans taste like cilantro? Or soap? Were the hygiene fanatics onto something?

But no, it didn't work. Obviously people had to taste different, that was the commonality. Were people with sensitive OR6A2 genetically predisposed to become zombies? Was it a matter of preference to taste, did people with OR6A2 taste good? Did others taste like cilantro?

WHY WOULD PEOPLE TASTE LIKE CILANTRO??!!

Your head hits the table in front of you with an unfourtanetly unsatisfying thud.

One question down, you think ruefully, a thousand more to go.

Fuck.

A zombie apocalypse plagues the planet. Strangely the zombies seem to attack some people and leave others alone. You’re part of a team of scientists and soldiers who discover why.

stuck in a timeloop called i just have to get through this week

A drawing for @hermesserpent-stuff 's DTIYS for 400 followers.

And not a pet, but

This frogs looks a lot like a leaf.

Ya girl is goin through a not so good time rn mayest I please have photos of y’all’s pets as a means to get that good good happy chemical

“Oh my god you’re a writer? Can I read your stuff?”