chavborn  asked:

*boops your nose**hands you a kitten*

Random Actions-Edition {Action Starters}

❝ — Eggsy, stop ! he resented and slapped the other on his hand, so he wouldn’t treat him like a child. He hated when people were diminishing his importance. But as soon as he noticed a black blue-eyed kitten in the Kingsman’s hands, he relented.

His lavender hues glistened with fascination, whilst he was examining this small lovely creature. Taking the kitten, he smiled genially at him, lightly stroking that adorable cat muzzle with the tip of his finger.

                                 ❝ Alright, you fool. I forgive you this time.
                                He spoke to the other in a more benignant tone.

Luke strips his shirt off as he walks out of your bedroom, a yawn leaving his lips as he stretches before moving onto the couch and making room for himself between your thighs. His long fingers push under your shirt as you chuckle, “what’re you doing babe?” you ask, your hands sliding over his bare shoulders, the feel of his skin making your entire body tingle as he presses his face into your neck. It’s been months since you’ve had the pleasure of being greeted with your big, sleepy boyfriend emerging from bed to cuddle on the couch as he wakes up and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy to have him back.

“Play with my hair,” he mumbles, his hands squeezing between your back and the couch as his lips brush your neck with his words.

You oblige without thought, playing with his fluffy curls and pulling a moan from his lips as he shifts, his breath hot against your neck, “feels like clouds,” you giggle, your boyfriend’s sleep warm body relaxing against yours the longer he lays on you.

He hums, “feels nice,” he replies, the words practically slurred against your neck.

Keep reading

You Won

Series: Arrow (TV 2012) 

Words: 795

Summary: Felicity wants, no, absolutely needs a cat. Oliver, on the other hand, is not so sure. 


“Aw, look,” Felicity coos, tightening her grip on Oliver’s hand. 

“Felicity, no!” Oliver groans, dragging her along as she attempts to stop. “You can come back later.” He has been wanting to return home for hours. He absolutely hates the mall. But of course, they had to stop by to pick up some of Felicity’s favourite shampoo. And a new couch pillow. And a blanket to go with it. And some shoes. And those jeans that are most definitely not the same as the one she is wearing. And why not just an entire shopping day while they’re at it? Now that they’re finally leaving, he’s not going to let anything get in his way. Well, except maybe the puppy-dog eyes. 

“C'mon, baby,” she pleads, pulling him back as he attempts to continue walking. He knows that she only calls him ‘baby’ when she wants something. “look at him!” She points to the little kitten in the window of the pet shop, mewling as it snuggles next to another. 

“No, we need to go home,” he replies, tugging at her hand. They are so close to the door! Fifty feet and they are be free. Of course, there is something to stop them. There is always something. He considers dragging her out the door, but he knows that she would never let him hear the end of that. 

“Look at his face,” Felicity says, ignoring Oliver’s protests. 

“It’s a cat. Let’s go." 

"Yeah, let’s go,” she agrees, pulling him into the shoppe. 

“That is not what I meant!” he whimpers, sulkily following her into the pet store. 

“Oliver, it’ll just be a couple minutes." 

"Sure it will,” he mutters under his breath. 


Thirty minutes later, Felicity has fallen in love. “We absolutely need to get him!” she says for the twenty-seventh time. 

“No, we do not,” Oliver growls back, rubbing his eyes and sighing heavily. He knew that he shouldn’t have let her drag him into this place. Now she is attempting to bring home a cat. A cat of all things. 

“But he’s so perfect, Oliver,” she replies, tugging on his arm. “We do not need a cat, nor do we have time for one, Felicity,” he grumbles, eyeing the cat with dislike. 

Felicity opens her mouth as if to argue, but shuts it again quickly. “Okay.” Oliver raises his eyebrows. 


"Yep, let’s go home." 

He is a little suspicious at her complete change of mind, but he isn’t going to complain. "Okay,” he says, following her out of the shoppe. 


Twenty-four hours later, Oliver finds out exactly why she let him go home. 

“Look what I have!” Felicity announces as she walks through the doorway. 

Oliver turns around quickly only to see a large pet-carrier. “Felicity, you didn’t …” he trails off, groaning as he realises that she did. 

“This,” she says, pulling the white, blue-eyed kitten out of the carrier, “is Fluffy, whom you have already met. And this,” she pauses for a second, glancing up at Oliver to witness his expression change  from annoyance to horror as she pulls the second kitten out of the box, “is Snowflake." 

Oliver simply stares for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Eventually, he speaks, saying, "I thought we agreed that we didn’t want one cat let alone two!” “Technically, you said that you didn’t want a cat. This is not a cat,” she explains, “these are cats with an ’s.’" 

"Oh, so the obvious response to 'I don’t want a cat’ is to get multiple cats?” he demands, sarcastically. 

“You told me I could come back later. I just assumed you were grumpy yesterday and maybe you’d receive them better today!” He throws his hands out to argue, but Felicity shoves Snowflake into his outstretched arms. 

“What the … Felicity!” he mutters, holding the animal awkwardly away from his body. 

“Isn’t she adorable?” she murmurs, holding Fluffy in her own arms. 

Oliver feels his will crumbling as the little grey cat begins to smuggle against his chest. “Felicity, we don’t have time for cats,” he mutters half-heartedly, trying his best to dislike the kitten. 

She doesn’t respond, but pets the top of Snowflake’s furry head, causing the kitten to purr in Oliver’s arms. 

With that, Oliver suddenly cannot imagine why he would ever object to owning kittens. They really are adorable and it can’t be too much work to take care of them. “Can I see the other one, too?" 

Felicity smiles triumphantly. "Of course,” she replies, setting the other purring fur-ball into his hand. 

“I guess we can keep them,” he mumbles, not quite ready to admit it out loud. 

“What was that?” Felicity asks, raising her eyebrows. 

He glares at her teasingly. “You won. We can keep them." 


Author’s Note + Tagging under the cut!

Keep reading


The Doctor walking alone at night and being followed by a tiny blue-eyed black kitten.
The Doctor trying to send her away.
The tiny kitten meowing and just not stopping following him.
The Doctor giving up and taking her in his arms. The kitten climbing on his shoulders to finally fall asleep inside his hood.
The kitten meowing at night and the Doctor accidentally saying “shut up, Missy!”
The Doctor being suddenly sad because he just realised that the kitten actually reminded him of Missy, and oh, her eyes are the same shade of blue ad hers.
The Doctor putting a purple collar around her neck.
The Doctor alone in the TARDIS, cuddling that tiny small beast and thinking about Missy.

Laurel got a blue-eyed Siamese kitten today that looks like my blue-eyed Siamese Pyewacket and she has very wisely christened her Shelagh.  So our insane all-day texting convo was on fire today as we shipped our own cats as Dr. Pyetrick Purrner and Shelagh Purrner (the former Sister Purrnadette).

Cats can’t text so Pye will write cryptic love letters to Shelagh. 

That is all.  You may now proceed with your day.