best kittens in the world

Daddy is the BEST

*Daddy and I are in a call just doing our own stuff*

Daddy: *playing games*

Me: *looking through my phone*

Daddy: Princess

Me: Yes Daddy?

Daddy: You’re the best little girl! You’re amazing, wonderful, beautiful, perfect, adorable, sweet, caring, and I love you soooo much!!

Me: *makes squeaking noises* *flails around* *blushes like crazy* *wiggles around* *smiles bunches* *giggles* *hides face* Dadddddddyyyy!!

Daddy: Yes kitten?

Me: I love YOU sooooooo much!!! You’re the bestest ever!!!!

Daddy: Cutie!

Me: *giggles* nuuu you!!!

“Well, my kitten was less than an hour old and Tomcat was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling, and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy-kitten or a girl-kitten. She meowed that it was a girl-kitten. And so I turned my head away and wept. ‘All right,’ I said, 'I’m glad it’s a girl-kitten. And I hope she’ll be a fool – that’s the best thing a girl-kitten can be in this world, a mew-tiful little fool.’

Classicat #10: Daisy Mew-Chanan, from The Great Catsby by F Scratch Fitzgerald

Birthdays

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEL!!!!!! Soooo, it’s @meldy-arts birthday, so you should all go say happy birthday to her because she is awesome! <3333

I really wanted to do something fun for you, Mel, and I’ve had the idea of writing about Ezra’s birthday for a while. And I decided, why not write a fic about his birthday on your b-day! It’s got a little bit of angst and quite a bit of fluff. And I hope you like it! Thanks for being such a great friend and screaming with me about headcannons! I hope you have an amazing birthday!!!!! <3333 *smooshes in a hug*

Fic below the cut:

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trishica fic recs

a crash course in my bookmarks for all things jessica jones and trish walker? i guess? i also guess that my format’s gonna be: necessary notes > shining star fic rec > cut for other fic recs. these have been my necessary notes! i’m gonna shut up!

Proxemics by teyla

Proxemics: the study of personal space. In which the aftermath of Kilgrave’s death prompts Trish and Jess to redefine some boundaries.

this is! the best fic! in the world! there are kittens! there are LESBIANS EVERYWHERE! and all the while, it’s about RECOVERING FROM TRAUMA! and it’s genuinely just very pleasant while (obviously) dealing– respectfully!– with unpleasant stuff. i have tried to force literally everyone who speaks to me on a regular basis to read this fic. 

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Watch on cybergata.tumblr.com

For a Kitten, the best thing in the world is to be a much loved kitten.

Smoulder Chapter 5

@miraculousdays, @artsyfartsyana @xayti enjoyyyyy! ;)

Read on AO3 or FF.NET

The words rang his ears, reverberating through his mind like the sound of a bell, until all Adrien could do was stare.

Pink. Her favourite colour was pink. That’s what she had said. That’s what Ladybug had said too.

It couldn’t be possible. No way would his Lady give him such a big clue, would she? But then, Ladybug didn’t know he was Chat Noir. He sighed inwardly. It was probably just a coincidence. Plagg was right, he really needed to get his head out of the clouds.

“Adrien?” Marinette was staring at him. Evidently, gaping at someone like a brain-dead koi fish was something to cause concern. He shook his head for the second time in mere minutes. ‘concentrate, Agreste’

“Ah- yeah, sorry. Pink, right,” He stammered, but smiled in the hopes of reassuring her, “it’s a good colour. I should have figured actually; you wear it a lot.”

Only when she crossed her arms over herself, did he realise what he said could be seen as an insult. Marinette turned away and, in his haste to correct himself again, Adrien all but leapt forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

“No-not that that’s a bad thing! Actually I think you look great in pink. It’s really suits you,” Adrien grinned, aware that he sounded like the biggest idiot on the planet but too worried about Marinette’s feelings to care. He was starting to think that he didn’t think when he was around her. Maybe he was like that when it came to sweet, smart, pretty girls. Maybe he was like that with just one sweet, smart, pretty girl. Maybe- in his wildest dreams.

All the systems in Marinette’s brain seemed to close up shop for the day, even though it was only nine in the morning. She was pretty sure she was going to start drooling if she didn’t snap herself out it soon. Silence loomed on the horizon, ready to descend upon them and make the situation a million times awkward. If only she could open her mouth and say something. If anything the longer it took, the angrier she became at herself. She was no longer a pathetic middle schooler with a silly crush. She was a pathetic high schooler with a silly crush thank you very much! ‘I should be able to deal with things better by now.’

As luck would have it, their conversation (or lack thereof) was thwarted by a high pitched squeal and the pair simultaneously leapt into fighting stances at the sound. Neither of them noticed the others reaction. Hurrying towards the pair were a gaggle of girls, the ones from earlier, all holding Adrien’s underwear photos up and screaming about wanting his autograph.

Adrien blanched, stepping back slowly, his face growing pale at the sight.

“Shouldn’t those girls be getting to class by now?”

Suddenly feeling a warm grip on his hand, Adrien barely had time to register Marinette’s fingers locking instinctively in his own, before she turned heel and yanked him away from the girls. The pair raced down the hallway, echoes of their thundering footsteps bounding off of the walls. Other students whipped their heads around at the bizarre sight of the two being chased by Adrien’s rabid fangirls. A few took out their phones but didn’t quite manage to hit record on time, or only managed to snap a few blurry pictures.

When they’d gained a good distance from the screaming girls, Marinette wheeled around a corner, opened an unassuming wooden door and leapt inside. Without a second thought, Adrien hurried in after her. The door slammed shut behind them and Marinette collapsed against it with a sigh.

Dried paint and chalk were the smells that filled the air and, as Adrien’s eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room, he noticed Marinette had hidden them in the art cupboard. Cupboard being a loose term, as it was more of a small room than anything. Metal shelves contained an array of art supplies from acrylics to clay. A broken kiln, door half-off its hinges, resided in the corner. He sucked in a breath, trying to regain air, but found himself near choking on the layers of dust they’d disturbed by entering the room in such a dramatic way.

“Are you ok?” Marinette asked gently and Adrien could hear the light breathlessness of her voice, his heart flipped at the sound. He cringed, remembering why they were hiding in the first place.

“I’m fine. Sorry about that. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

They stared at each other again, wordlessly, before a giggle burst from Marinette’s lips. In an attempt to cover her laughter at the absurdity of the situation, she held her hands over her mouth. But Adrien could see the amusement sparkling in her eyes. His lips stretched into the kind of thin smile that only occurs when you know you probably shouldn’t laugh, but are about to regardless.

“Shh! Shh! They’ll hear us!” Marinette waved her hands even though she continued to laugh.

“I’m sure we can run off again, we make a pretty good team I think. We should consider joining the running club,” Adrien chuckled pressing his palm to his forehead. In any other situation he would have been pretty annoyed by this turn of events. She’d somehow made it fun and exciting, like an adventure. The two intrepid explorers running from the jaws of the frantic jungle cats.

Marinette glowed, too high on adrenaline to feel a sense of shock and awe, too amused to stammer at his praise.

“Adrien!” She gasped, chortling still as she sank further against the door, and Adrien forced back a very impulsive, highly ungentlemanly impulse to press against her in a similar fashion. He blushed and averted his gaze, the smile almost gone from his face. Heat seeped through his blood, darting in-and-out of his arms, his face, his ears. The way she said his name…

‘Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip, get a grip!’ Ignoring the dust in the air, Adrien inhaled through his nose. His thoughts raced, yelled, screamed at him to keep it together and remain calm. But he had a feeling the second he looked into her eyes he’d be lost again. He remembered what she looked like when he was about to kiss her as Chat, the way her favourite colour dashed across her cheek bones and her eyes fluttered lazily, how her lips had parted in anticipation. Against his better judgement, he knew he wanted to see that look again. God what was happening to him?!

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