#blini cat

[rebloggingrexan]

[cosmogyros]

I think it's time to bring back these beautiful reflections on "Blini Cat (2015)" by YouTube user Dexturt.

This guy understands and performs art analysis on a level I rarely see. I want to go to a museum and discuss the paintings with him.

[sundreamers-blog]

Birthday ArtFight!

Happy Birthday Sprinkle! Attack for Staryanna of their adorable Faerie Wocky Sprinkle. Decided to play around with some fur brushes and try to do a lineless piece since I haven't done that in a while.

I based for off of 'Blini Cat' when making this. I dunno why I couldn't get that meme out of my head when thinking of ideas on how to draw Sprinkle so I just went with it 😂

[totallynotcaptainplutonium]

same vibe

observing biscuits

[ssjumi]

doodled/drew some internet cats (again) 🐱🐾

[laserbobcat]

Remember when I talked about this adorable french ttrpg game with kitten? We played it! My friend made a dumb farmer kid, I made a dumb rich kid, no brain cells between the two. My character Blini basically spent the whole thing crying in various ways and expecting to be eaten. My friend's character Tofu spent the whole time completely careless it was a delight. The game has two types of combat. Actual combat is pretty rare and extreme, the most common form of fight is called "Tooth battle" where basically anything is considered fighting and does "damage" if the rolls are good. For example we won the first fight by being cute and convincing the bad guys to be nice. I had all my points in the "cute" stat so i crused that. Very cool game. Idk if and when it will be translated to english.

[orangestang-blog]

[aloysiavirgata]

A Mulder-Scully child/children in an interfaith household. Chag Urim Sameach, Virgata Family!

From here, darling. Merry (late) Christmas and Chag Sameach! https://www.tumblr.com/aloysiavirgata/761731982784888832/loved-your-skinner-pov-i-am-the-ultimate-sucker

***

Baby Matilda, dimpled and blue-eyed with a thick shock of cinnamon hair. Baby Matilda, fat as a soup dumpling, blinking curiously as her siblings and parents and grandmother gaze down.

“Chag sameach,” say William and Fiona, Hebrew-school mindful. Their ch- careful as their father’s Bar Mitzvah lessons.

Silas and Clara, less confident, mumble Merry Christmas to her, though it’s two weeks away. Mulder palms their glossy heads, beaming. The tree lights are tacky and bright and gorgeous. They make stained glass circles on his children’s faces.

Margaret, chamomile-warmed and still a little baffled by the existence of these children, cuddles Tilda close.

Salt-dough handprint menorah ornaments on the Christmas tree. Cocoa and dreidels by the fire. Latkes and dripping goose fat and boozy sweet fruitcake. Marzipan and mistletoe and sufganiyot.

William retreats to the big leather armchair with his illustrated book of winter holiday traditions from around the world. Silas and Clara head off to find the cats, and Fiona sneaks another marshmallow into her mug.

Mulder does not believe in god because the notion of an interventionist deity like Scully’s is a Lovecraftian horror to him. But Scully still wants to. Scully cannot look at herself and her five children and not believe that there must be Something who loves her, at least a little.

***

2 AM.

Mulder brings Tilda over to the bed, warm in a deep blue flannel sleep sack with silver moons on it. She is complaining loudly. She is the mottled pink and yellow of a Rainier cherry, with flailing round fists.

Scully takes the unhappy baby to her breast and sighs as the milk lets down. Tilda, already the fiercest of her children, latches on with something like aggression. Tilda has the fattest cheeks of all their babies, the plumpest dinner-roll feet.

“I think maybe she was also a twin but ate the other kid in the womb,” Mulder observes. “I’m going to see what Si and Clara think. As the house experts.”

Scully adjusts the baby. “That’s great, that’s exactly an appropriate question for preschoolers.”

Mulder stretches out beside them on the bed. He loves these lost hours. “Ahhhh, these modern kids are too soft. When we were babies they just gave us bottles full of lead paint and sent us off at six to the asbestos factory.”

She looks at him in amused disbelief. “Mulder you were wearing Brooks Brothers at birth. Your mother had a night nurse for you and Samantha. There’s a picture of you at like 6 eating latkes with crème fraiche and caviar.”

“Okay well first of all those were blini and that’s how they’re traditionally served so pardon my cultural sensitivity.”

Even Tilda pauses nursing to look at him.

“Oh you too?” Mulder pokes his daughter in the belly. “Watch it kid, because she won’t be making all your meals forever.”

Scully sticks her out tongue, switches Tilda to the other breast.

Mulder begins to doze when a blood-curdling shriek splits the night from down the hall. He jumps up, reaches for his hip out of habit.

Fiona, still shrieking, races into the room and launches herself into the bed. She clings to her father like a koala, sobbing. “The Yule Cat,” she wails into his neck.

Tilda, born into the whirlwind, remains unperturbed by her sister.

“I DIDN’T DO IT!!!” William yells, racing in after, hair sticking up everywhere like his father’s

Scully narrows her eyes at that. “William what-“

“SHE STOLE MY BOOK I SAID IT WAS TOO SCARY FOR HER!”

Fiona, tear-stained but no longer howling, points a finger at him. “I didn’t steal your dumb book I just was LOOKING at it while YOU sneaked another sufganiya!”

William scowls back. “Well I wasn’t going to tell but I saw you ate four more marshmallows!”

Mulder peels Fiona off his chest. He looks sternly at both of his children. “First of all we do not narc in this family.”

“Tattle,” says Scully, exasperated.

“We do not tattle in this family,” Mulder amends. “Unless someone is making a choice that will endanger them or someone else. You only tell us to HELP not to HURT.”

Fiona’s lip starts to tremble again. “He eats you up,” she whispers. “Daddy the Yule Cat eats you all up.”

“Oh, honey, it’s not-“

William takes her hand. “Fee?”

Her eyes are brimming again. “Yeah?”

“Come in my room and we can read about Saint Lucia’s Day. The oldest girl gets a special dress and a crown.” William’s face is earnest, excited to share something new with her.

She brightens, Yule Cat seemingly forgotten. “Yeah? Daddy can I have a Saint Lula dress and crown?”

“Sure,” Mulder says, yawning.

Fiona hops down, still holding her brother’s hand. They head to his bedroom and his reading light goes on.

Mulder takes the baby, tosses a blanket over his shoulder, and gives her a few solid thwacks. She belches like a sailor.

Scully laughs, delighted. “God, remember when you first tried with William and I had to explain the goal was to burp him, not put him to sleep?”

Tilda is already out cold and Mulder returns her to the bassinet. “Listen if I broke the miracle baby you were going to be really, really pissed. Now that we have a basketball team…eh.”

Scully curls against him when he’s next to her again. “Mulder, I feel kind of awful, but I’m glad William took her because god help me, I did not have the energy for that child in the bed tonight.”

Having Fiona in bed was a lot like having a bag full of ferrets in bed. “No, no. Me too. Little narc.”

Scully pinches him. “Let’s sleep while the sleeping’s good.”

They nestle into the pillows, exhausted. The white noise machine, the scent of the fire, of jam, of cinnamon…Scully drifts into a gingerbread dream.

Little feet on the hardwood. “Mama,” Clara hisses. “Silas got scared when he heard Fee and now I’m scared too.”

“Got scared,” Silas echoes. “Me and Clara.”

Mulder barely wakes as he heaves his children into the bed. They jostle and squirm but eventually curl together, safe from the Yule Cat.

[elbiotipo]

Los yanquis editando al Blini Cat con waffles me hace acordar a esa cosa horrible que hicieron cuando unos (coachs emocionales) agarraron a un artista argentino que hizo un cómic de como las buenas palabras de un padre permanencen en el tiempo, y lo cambiaron a una historia de abuso generacional y cambiaron el mate y el termo por una botella de alcohol.

En fin los coachs emocionales deberían ir todos presos.

[icarus-suraki]

Blinis!

[mayorofcattown]

Played oneshot recently, and as soon as I saw the pancakes flashback I knew I had to draw Niko as the blini cat meme. There was clearly no other option

Obligatory 'prints are on my inprnt and timelapse is on patreon (link in bio)'

[wumblr]

i figured out what emotion blini cat is showing

it's multi-level marketing. he is willing to sell you a blini distributorship for a nominal fee, which could be a very profitable opportunity for you

[redrumrose]

Does Ana have a favorite Cat? How about favorite medical procedure?

Her favorite cat is definitely her own boy, Mr. Blini Pancake xD The Doc originally found him and let her adopt him.

But her second favorite hospital cat is, Artyom (the doc's own pet). He's really friendly and curious, and all the nurses like to joke he's the 'Doctor's Little Spy' because he follows them around all day.

Anara's favorite medical procedures are anything to do with the heart. Transplants and transfusions? Yes please! Doc needs assistance with an open heart surgery? Hand her the scalpel! xD She could stare at an EKG all day.

[late-to-the-party-81]

The best laid plans...

AN: This silly little fic was written for @buckybarnesbingo Square C5: A picture of Bucky waiting against a wall, holding a gun. I hope you enjoy the sass and crack. Thanks to @drabbles-mc for cheerleading and beta-ing

Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Moodboard by me, with robot image by Rafael Amarante 

Master list| BBB Master list

Summary: Bucky and Nat had a date night planned, but you know what’s said about best laid plans?

Relationships: Established Bucky x Nat, Established Sam x Steve, Cap Quartet friendship.

Word Count: 2.4k

CW: Crack, Sass, Snark, Flirting, Innuendo, Swearing, Robots being smashed, a bad-guy getting his come-uppance, Sam and Steve are like a pair of horny teenagers, Bucky is done, Nat is always right.

Bucky came to a halt a few feet from the bunker entrance, his back pressed to the smooth, grey concrete with his assault rifle held in his right hand. Snowflakes swirled around him.  

This was not how he’d intended spending his Friday, but here he was. The bad-guys never had any respect for his plans, the bastards. Or rather his and Nat’s plans. Not that they’d had anything major organised, just a quiet night in, the pair of them, the cat’s, a box set, some wine and some blini’s. Maybe a little ‘something-something’ later on, if he played his cards right.

But, here he was, in the freezing cold - and god-knows he hated the cold for many legitimate reasons - waiting for the signal from Nat, before the pair of them stormed in to save Sam and Steve from whatever-the-fuck mess the pair of them had managed to get themselves in to. If Bucky recalled the briefing notes he’d skimmed over on the way here, it was robots of some sort. Which was better than aliens, and a one hundred percent improvement on wizards. That Strange guy gave him the willies, despite Tony’s assurance that his cough friend was on their side. He still wasn’t sold on Howard’s son’s judgement, despite the years that had passed since the ‘Siberia Incident’.

Robots, though - he could handle those. To steal a line from Bruce, with robots he could “smash”, and not feel bad. Not that he felt bad when he punched aliens. Or wizards. But robots were like Nazi’s. Not sentient in Bucky’s humble opinion.

He did briefly wonder how Steve and Sam had managed to get themselves captured, but that knowledge would wait for later. They’d probably got distracted from the mission because they were making out or something equally as stupid. They could at least keep the PDAs to a minimum in the field, like he and Nat did. Although he did get it - Steve could let himself be seen now, in a way he hadn’t been able to back in the day.  And Bucky wasn’t blind, Sam was an attractive man, even if he did act like a cocky dickhead about it ninety nine percent of the time.

“Stupid Steve and stupid Sam.” He hadn’t even realised he’d muttered under his breath until a slightly tinny voice sounded in his ear.

“Be nice, Yasha. They are our friends after all. Even if they did ruin our date night.”

Bucky’s lips twitched upwards at Nat’s admonishment. “Can you blame me, malyshka? I was looking forward to a night-in with my best girls. All cuddled up together, all cosy. Maybe a bit of kissing, a bit of…”

“Okay, cool it lover-boy. I don’t think Al and Liho would be appreciative of your kisses.”

Bucky’s smile broadened and he let a bit of ‘40’s’ into his voice. “Is that your way of saying that you would be?”

“I plead the fifth.” He could hear the smile in Nat’s voice. “Now, get ready. I’ve almost reached the East Entrance. We need to breach together.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, glad that Nat wouldn’t be able to see.

“Not my first time out, Natalia. Just because Steve likes to go in without a plan and Sam seems to have adopted his technique, doesn’t mean I’ve lost my sense of strategy. I’m ready on your mark. As always.”

“The way it should be. But James, don’t roll your eyes at me. You know how it annoys me when you’re passive aggressive. Now…breach!”

Bucky pushed away from the wall and kicked in the door. He rolled through the opening, coming to a halt on his knees, gun raised. 

There wasn’t anyone or anything there.

“No bogies here, Nat. You?”

“Nothing. It’s suspiciously quiet.”

Bucky rose to his feet and slung his rifle over his shoulder.

“I’ll work myself toward the centre and meet you there. First to find our disaster gays buys pizza.”

He heard Nat laugh over the comms, clear and unaffected. “You always make it so easy for me, kotenok.”

“Only because you’re easy for me.” Bucky couldn’t help but tease her. He could imagine the faint pink blush dusting her cheekbones about now. She was probably doing that cute nose wrinkle too.

“Bucky!” Nat hissed, but her tone didn’t hold any real censure.

“Okay, okay. I’m all business now. I promise. See you soon.”

Bucky pulled one of his knives from its sheath, gave it a cursory flip to check the balance, and then made his way toward the next door. If there was anything behind it, it would know Bucky was there - he hadn’t exactly been quiet when he’d come through the first door. He placed himself on the hinge side of the door, noting that this one opened towards him, and with a steadying breath, he pulled it open.

Immediately, laser blasts peppered the space Bucky would have been standing in if he’d opened the door like a normal person. He observed the rhythm of the shots for a few seconds, then rounded the door, his knife flying forward from his hand. There was a satisfying thunk, followed by a crash as the robot landed on the floor. Bucky walked towards the pile of metal, taking in its form as he pulled his knife from its ocular sensor. Why mad scientists had to mimic human biology by putting the CPU in the most obvious place constantly baffled him, but at least it made it easy.

He didn’t have long to ponder though. He heard a whirring noise and looked up to see four more robots bearing down on him. Sheathing his knife, Bucky unslung his rifle, holding it in his right hand. With his left he picked up the late robot to use as a shield. He felt the impact of the laser blasts, and peaked around the metal shell to aim his weapon. He squeezed the trigger, letting off three bullets at a time, and kept moving forward. One of the robots wouldn’t go down, so as Bucky approached it, he decided to use the one he was holding as a bludgeon. There was the screech of metal on metal, and the fizzing of wires as they broke, still sparking, then there was a pile of twisted steel on the floor. He opened his comms.

“Everything okay, sweetheart? I’ve had a few tin cans to deal with over here.”

“Doing fine, baby. Hang on…” Nat went silent for a moment, but Bucky knew it was just because she was concentrating. He heard the high-pitch whine of her Widow’s Bite deploying, followed by a hollow clang sound and then she was back. “How many have you taken out?”

Bucky looked around him.

“Five.”

“Ha! Six. I’m winning.”

“Malyshka, our competition isn’t about numbers, remember?” Bucky drawled, letting a small amount of condescension into his voice.

“Yours might not be, but mine is.” God, he loved this woman. She challenged him everyday and he couldn’t get enough.

“Always gotta be the winner, huh?”

“No ‘gotta’ about it. Just ‘am’, kitten.” He could see her smirk in his head. She was probably coyly twisting a lock of hair around her finger as she spoke as well. “Now, I gotta get into that next room.”

The comm line went quiet again and Bucky smiled to himself as he thought about all the ways he was gonna worship her when they got home. After he’d torn a strip off Steve and Sam for being idiots. However, he had to find them first.

He wasn’t surprised to discover more robots as he entered the next area of the bunker. They weren’t too difficult to deal with, especially considering how frustrated Bucky was feeling. A couple of laser shots grazed his jacket, the burning leather smell filling his nose unpleasantly. A replacement jacket was definitely coming out of Steve’s pocket.

Six more robots lay in a sparking, dented mess on the floor, but he just walked around them, moving forward. It was only a minute until he came upon a bulkhead door, the mechanism for opening it on his side. Bucky could also see that the door was dented, hit from the inside in what he assumed was an attempt to open it from the other side by someone exceedingly strong. It would take a lot to deform it like that.

“If you’re not behind this door, Steve”, Bucky muttered under his breath, “I’m gonna kill you.” He reshouldered his rifle and grabbed hold of the bulkhead wheel. It was tightly closed and the metal groaned under Bucky’s hands as he turned it. “Fuck Sam and fuck Steve, idiotic, stupid idiots.” He didn't know exactly what he was going to find when he got in there, but he wasn’t too worried. They might have some scrapes and bruises, at the worst be unconscious, but they were tough and no two-bit robot maker was going to get the best of them. Not for long anyway. 

The catch on the door fully opened and Bucky pulled it ajar. He slipped through but came to a dead halt at what he saw. This was definitely not what he expected to find. In fact, he was so taken aback that he didn’t notice the door swinging shut behind him, until he heard the clunk.

Sam and Steve leapt apart. Steve’s short blond hair was sticking up all over the place, evidence of Sam’s fingers having been threaded through it. Both their lips were kiss swollen, and their chests were heaving. Steve pulled the shield across his lap. Sam just used his hands to cover his crotch.

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut. “Really, guys? You get stuck in the lair of a mad robot inventor, so you just end up making out like teenagers?” Steve flushed, his ears going bright pink, but Sam just gave Bucky a grin.

“What can I say, man. Stevie boy can’t keep his hands off me, even when we’re in mortal danger.”

Steve shot Sam a glare. “It wasn’t like that. We tried to get out, but the doors were too thick, and glass didn’t want to break either.” Steve waved over to the far wall, which was half glass, and appeared to have some kind of observation room on the other side. There was a door in that wall too, as equally as dented as the one Bucky had come through, giving credence to Steve’s story that they’d at least attempted to get out before getting bored and starting to get handsy with each other. “We knew you’d come when we didn’t check in, so we were just waiting. But you’re here now.”

“Unfortunately, though,” Sam drawled, “Because you let that door shut behind you, we’re now all stuck.”

“As long as you two don’t start sucking face again.” Bucky made a gagging noise.

“No chance of that, Bucko. Don’t you know that cyborgs kill the mood,” Sam fired back.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and cocked his hip. “Nat doesn’t seem to think so.” He held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers, the vibranium plates clinking and servos whirring. “In fact she…”

“...Would most likely kill you for having this conversation.” Steve cut him off. “And speaking of Nat…”

Steve pointed into the observation room, where the door into it had burst open and a man in a white lab coat and goggles was staggering through it, a very angry Russian redhead sat atop his shoulders. Nat rained blows down onto the man's face before doing her patented twisty thing where she spun herself down and hurled the guy across the room by his neck. He crashed into a table which had various electronics and tools across it, and didn’t get up. Nat, of course, landed on her feet and tossed her hair back. At that moment, Bucky didn’t think he could love her more.

Nat walked over to the control panel, a swagger in her steps. She peered down at it for a few moments and then pressed a button. The door to the side of the glass opened with a creak and Nat sauntered over and pushed it further open.

“I win, kotenok.” 

Bucky reached in a few long strides and, in an uncharacteristic display of public affection, wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close.

“How do you figure that, sweetheart? I was obviously here first, and we haven’t done the final count of robots dispatched.” He smiled down at her and brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face.

“But I took out him,” she jerked her head in the direction of the felled robot creator, “and you got yourself trapped in with Dumb and Dumber over there. I think that means I can rightly claim the win.”

Somewhere behind them, Sam shouted out “Hey!” but both Bucky and Nat ignored him.

“You think, do you? I’m not sure I agree.” Bucky’s lips twisted up into an amused smile and Nat reached up and bopped her finger against the tip of his nose.

“Of course you don’t agree. You’re always wrong, Yasha. Now, let’s get home and you and I can try and salvage the rest of date night. You owe me a pizza.” She slipped effortlessly from his hold and spun away. Bucky looked over his shoulder at Steve and Sam and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say ‘what are you gonna do?’ and followed in her wake, picking up their unconscious captive and throwing him over his shoulder on the way.

They got outside and as they neared the two jets Bucky looked over at Nat, silent communication passing between them. She jogged towards the jet they’d arrived in for their rescue mission and Bucky peeled off toward the one that Sam and Steve had used. He jogged up the ramp ahead of his friends, and as he reached the top he pressed the ramp close button and dumped the robot maker on the floor.

“Um, Buck… What are you doing?” Steve called out to him through the narrowing gap. Bucky grinned back. “It’s only a two hour flight back to the compound. Surely you can wrap your legs around your boyfriend for that long.” He shot a wink at their outraged faces as the ramp closed and then whistled to himself as he made his way to the cockpit. 

Childish? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely.

Bucky sat down in the pilot’s seat, put the headphones on and switched to his and Nat’s private comms channel as he started the jet up.

“So, malyshka, what do you want on your pizza?”

Tag list: @km-ffluv @christywrites @alexakeyloveloki @doasyoudesireandlive

[soup-or-dumpling]

Masterlist of completed polls part 2

Soup

Milk and cookies | Beans on toast | Bread pudding and custard | Lamb casserole | The Milky Way Galaxy | Matzo ball soup | Chicken Caesar salad | Oeuf en cocotte | Liangpi noodles | Windows 7 default wallpaper | Sinigang | Hotdog and pickle aspic | Apple crumble | Paella | Congee | Orange juice | Katsu curry | Mercury (the element) | Periodic table | Mashed potatoes | Lava | Magma | Student's brain just before an exam | Asexuality | Moules frites | Warp speed | Ice cream | Poutine | Cawl | Clam Chowder in a sourdough bread bowl | Kibble | Neon lights | Flan | Tea | Sun | Fishbowl | Winter Solstice | Tagine | stock cube | Hot chocolate with marshmallows | 2024 | Tiny deer in a bath | entirety of tumblr in the ocean | Sunday roast

Dumpling

Fruit gushers | sandwich | Xiaolongbao | A tomato | Teabag | Human body | Book Eowyn and Faramir | Pumpkin pie | Turkey and stuffing | Chicken pot pie | Tempura | Youtiao and soymilk | Rollmops | Devon and Cornish cream tea | Churros | The vampire Dracula | Crêpe | Eccles cake | Jin Guangyao | The (Blood of) Youths | Zhuge Liang | Stroopwafel | Featherless biped | Cocoon | Cannoli | Lin Chen | Silmaril | Tangerine | Baklava | Giant yorkshire pudding | Helium-filled balloon | Chocolate digestive | Sushi | (Bad) cdrama mask | Turducken | Pavlova | Jaffa cakes | Meatloaf | 'not a yummy gyoza dumpling' | Jiang Cheng | Opossum | G(a)linda | Baba au rhum | Tanghulu | Gyro | Cat | Caviar blini | Blobfish | Elizabeth Bennet | Kermit the Frog | Every single animal | Yun Biqiu | Circus tent | Toasted marshmallows | Infected mosquito

[azhdakha]

🐱akira's favourite food?

Favorite is his food. Just food. Food is his favorite thing in this world.

Okay, but seriously, I think it's bliny and bread. He keeps finding them and trying to steal regardless of where they're kept and how they're covered in a bag or in a box. He just wants them, and he takes what he wants. Veni. Vidi. Vici. He's quite a fussy eater. We bought him a holistic dry cat food and he didn't ear it, while dunking in the cheaper one, lol. Weird little man with his preferences.