I apologize for how long it took to write this chapter. 2015 was a really rough year; I was (and still am) seven levels of exhausted 90% of the time. But I made a new request list, my bae who actually owns cats gave me some ideas, I decided to plow through exhaustion and writer's block to make chapters for this fic again. I'm sorry I took (as Ciao pointed out) 1.25 years to update. I can't promise I'll update frequently as I've already broken that promise enough. But, let's start fresh with the next chapter, okay?

America wondered what cruel and unusual Russian torture this sick bastard was putting him through. He gave said bastard a glare from the ground who only gave him a smile in return.

"Do not be mad," Russia said calmly. "You look adorable."

"When I change back to normal, I swear..." America hissed.

Russia had shoved all of his paws into socks. Now, America didn't see what was so bad about it at first until he noticed a few things. One was that Russia had used his own socks to put on his front paws so America was inhaling the distinct scent of Russia's toes, a scent he never really wanted to get reacquainted with after the Cold War. Two was that it was nigh impossible for a cat, even a super intelligent and awesome feline like himself, to pull a measly pair of socks off.

Russia bent down to his level and wiggled his fingers in front of him. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty," he said teasingly.

"Cut it out, Russia!" America hissed at him. "This isn't fun-"

America tried to take a step toward the other nation, but the sock-covered paw slid across the wooden floor. America landed flat on his face with a loud SMACK.

"...ny..." he finished with his face still pressed into the ground. He heard very loud chuckling above him. "Laugh it up, asshole, I'm going to claw the hell out of your socks."

America tried to stand back up with shaky legs. He barely caught a glimpse of a phone before he flopped back onto the floor.

"Oh my god, you didn't..."

Russia grinned from ear-to-ear. "That was perfect! I'm sure everyone will love this!" Russia stood back up and started walking toward the laptop. "I'll be sure to tag you in it, America!"

America's eyes widened in horror. He tried to scramble towards Russia to no avail.

"Tony! Tony, I need your help! Russia's gonna make me a meme, Tony! Help!"

Meanwhile at Spain's house...

Romano was hoping that, for once, he would have a nice day.

You know, a very nice and goddamn peaceful day.

But no. Not only was he a freaking cat, he happened to turn into a freaking cat while he was in Spain's house. Now he was in the clutches...

"Tomato! Come on out, Tomato!" Spain urged from beside the couch.

...of this asshole.

"No!" Romano shouted. At least, to him it was shouting.

Spain squeezed his arm behind the couch and wiggled his fingers. "C'mere, Tomato!" he said brightly.

He swiped at the hand and barely grazed it with a claw. Spain's hand jerked back, but the smile on his face said clearly that he didn't mind.

"Wow, you really are just like Romano!" he laughed. "To be fair, that's why I gave you a name that sounds similar. Romano. Tomato. Romano-Tomato~. Besides, that's our favorite food. And also-"

"Just shut up," Romano sighed.

He emerged from the couch and snuggled up to Spain's knee. He had hoped that surprising him would get him to stop rambling and, lo and behold, it did. He scooped him up and started petting him.

"Hm?" Spain's eyes were trained on the single, long curl of hair. "I think you have something caught in your fur. Here. Let me get that for yoooOOOOOUCH! CLAWS! CLAWS! PUT THEM AWAY! PLEASE!"

Meanwhile in Japan's house...

"Waaah! Tubbs! Why?! I just put that food out a minute ago!" Italy shouted at his phone.

"Don't yell at Tubbs..." Greece said defensively. "He's just... hungry."

"But the other cats need something to eat too!"

Germany looked away from the scene playing out on the other couch and turned back to Japan. He shook his head with confusion and sighed.

"I'll never understand the appeal of that game," Germany admitted. "You're just leaving out food for cats. You don't even get to play with them."

Japan held back a comment about how Germany would play a similar game if it only had dogs in it. They had to get back to the problem at hand after all. "Can't we leave them a message? I heard that cat paws actually affect touchscreens."

"I doubt that they'll actually leave their phones long enough for us to use one."

"No way!" Italy said loudly. The two cats stared at him. "You actually got to take a picture of Peaches? I've never even seen Peaches in my game before! Let me see, Greece! Pleeeease!"

"Okay... I left my phone in the guest room..."

The second that the two were out of sight, Germany pounced onto Italy's phone. He punched in Italy's very obvious password ("pasta") and groaned in annoyance.

"He left the game on! How do I get out of it?"

"No! Wait! This is perfect. They're sure to notice. Give me the phone, Germany."

Italy and Greece came back to a rather proud-looking pair of cats standing over Italy's phone. Neko Atsume was still open and Tubbs had been renamed. Italy and Greece's eyes widened in shock as they read the new name, "i am japan."

Sorry I took so long to write this chapter. I've made a new request list and I tried to put a few in there already. But for now, please enjoy.

Review, please.