#persian cat shop near me

[persiankittencat]

If you’re captivated by the beauty of pure white Persian kittens and are in search of your dream feline companion, you’re in for a treat. The allure of these snow-white feline beauties is undeniable, with their fluffy fur and endearing personalities. In Delhi, India, the journey to find pure white Persian kittens for sale is a delightful adventure. In this article, we’ll explore the enchanting world of these elegant kittens, where to find them in Delhi, and how to secure the best “near me” deals.

[quietlyimplode]

Black Widow Fest - Day One

the letter be

ao3 link (pls note that the fic starts below and finishes on ao3 - i know how annoying it is to start on one platform only to have it finish on another)

Natasha and Clint are split up and communicate through letters. Fluff, missions and a little bit of saving.

Word count: 2956

Warnings: warnings for domestic violence

..

It starts with a cat.  

At least that’s what Natasha thinks. 

Clint would say it started with the mission to Antwerp, but really, Natasha thinks that it’s starts with the cat in the window. 

With Clint’s leg broken, he was so bored, she’d suggested letters; emails were easily tracked and she supposed; so could mail, but the postal service still seemed to have more protections than an email Al carrier. 

Clint had agreed and the time for a letter to get from Antwerp to New York wasn’t as long as she thought. 

It was different to a mission report. Something that that actually had to put thought into, but actually something that over the six weeks, she came to enjoy.  

Even the search in the stationary shop, for letter writing stationary and envelopes. 

She can’t remember if she’d ever sent a letter.  

Not when it hadn’t been coded, and so when she sat down to write the first one, she stared at the paper and then got up and left it there.  

She came back with a glass of water and an iced coffee  

Staring again, she hears the cat at the back window and stands again. 

Natasha looks into the darkness and whispers to the cat to come in, clinking a spoon against the saucer of milk and waiting.  

This, she thinks, this is where she started. 

. 

Clint, 

Don’t laugh. There’s a cat here. I’ve named him Liho, for obvious reasons. Remember? He sits with me at night. In fact, if you find fur attached to this letter it’s likely his. Did you know that Antwerp has a stray cat problem? I’m sure there’s more out there, but he’s been the bravest and I think, well, he might be coming back with me. 

All is boring here, there’s not much to report on just yet. I’m sure more going on than there though. 

How is the leg?  

Are you doing the exercises Richard gave you? Follow them, please, otherwise they’ll be on my back to get you to do them.  

The house here is quiet, no neighbours; like most of our houses. It makes the nights long.  

The previous owners must have been just as bored because there’s some 1000 piece puzzles - I’ve started one. I’m enjoying it. It’s of London buses - a whole scene of the square. I’ll probably have it finished in a day or two. 

Perdy and Pongo - the contrived meetings have been nice and easy. Another one tomorrow, all going well. 

It’s nearing one in the morning.  

I’ll send this off. 

Miss you terribly.  

. 

Nat. 

Liho the cat sounds like a keeper. I’ve looked into it, and your apartment has a no animal policy, but the good news is mine doesn’t.  

Draw a picture of the cat? I’ve added what I think he looks like below, but you might have better luck in the drawing department.  

Glad that all seems to be going well Pongo and Perdy, has anything changed?  

The leg. 

I’m doing the exercises. Honest. 

It’s just shit.  

I’m bored, and your not here to keep me company.  

We really gotta train others in Russian because you being the only one speaking it fluently, seems actually ridiculous. It’s like, why am I the only one to speak Persian Arabic? It pigeonholes us and sets us up for really specific… holidays. Anyway. Food for thought. 

Puzzles sounds like a good way to pass the time.  

Coulson has taught me crochet. He said it’s a good way to keep my mind busy, and do maths. 

I can crochet a straight line. I’m aiming for a blanket.  

Anyway.  

Here’s my picture of a cat. 

🐈‍⬛. 

Miss you terribly. 

. 

Continued on ao3...

[laurensinclairsfleabagera]

post the games au where franmaya are married and have three cats together.

the first cat they get, named spork by maya, is a ginger tabby cat that they found in behind the backalley of their house. He is an absolute menace, has nearly died at least 3 times, has ate shopping receipts while franziska is distracted by putting away the shopping and they don’t know his age.

secondly, also named by maya, is fork. she is a white persian cat she bought to give franny on their 2nd wedding anniversary despite franziska trying (and failing miserably at it) to pretend she hates cats, especially when she gives a genuine little smile at spork sitting on her lap.

How did they obtain spoon, youre asking? let me tell you! it’s nearing mayas birthday she’s “subtly” hinting at wanting another cat, a maine coon cat more specifically, but nobody can lie to franziska especially when she’s saw maya’s texts to phoenix about wanting to get a maine coon kitten despite them being longer than long furbies. so she obliges to her wife’s foolish wishes, obtains the black main coon kitty while maya is in kurain for business and maya genuinely gives the most sappy hug one can give their wife it’s adorable!!

[curse-breaker-bill]

Dust rained down upon Bill for what felt like the twentieth time that day. Even when the handkerchief covering his mouth and nose, he felt like a pound of dirt had settled into his lungs. Shaking the grit from his hair and trying to find a clean spot on his shirt to wipe his eyes, Bill sat back on the ground and studied the impenetrable wall of earth before him that was preventing him from entering the room that held what would be his latest acquisition. Whoever had set up the hexes around this tomb had been very, very clever.  They had buried the door behind the dirt wall, and hexed it so that no matter how you went about it, you could never break through more than a few inches before a massive cloud of dust appeared and practically smothered you.

Bill Weasley was never the type to give up, but after a week of choking on dust, he was nearly ready to call it quits. His employer had already been nagging him about how long it was taking to get this job done, and he loathed having to report in after another failed day that they were no closer to acquiring the treasure than they had been when they started this expedition. Still, he exhausted and he needed to consult a few texts before having another crack at the wall. A shower wouldn't hurt, either.

Leaving the tomb, Bill apparated to his employer's office in the Cairo branch of Gringotts, dust falling from nearly ever part of him and leaving a small pile of sand on Grinrig's pristine Persian manticore rug. His usual grimace deepened at the sight, his gruff voice cutting across Bill before he could even speak.

"Don't tell me, you've wasted another day."

"Whoever put up the curses knew what they were doing," Bill said by way of explanation, knowing that no answer would appease the goblin.

"I don't need to remind you that you will not be paid until I receive the item, Weasley." Grinrig paused for a moment, eyeing the wizard with disdain. "Should I look for someone more qualified?"

"No, sir," Bill answered readily. "I promise, I can retrieve the item. I just need a few more days."

"Two." Grinrig replied evenly. "You have two days, then you're fired. Get out."

Bill felt grateful for even the smallest extension and nodded his head, sending another shower of dirt and sand onto the rug. "Thank you, sir."

Before Grinrig could grimace again about the added mess, Bill apparated to the small village that had become home to him in Egypt.  Karihsmak was home to a predominantly Egyptian collective of witches and wizards.  Much like Hogsmeade in Scotland, there were shops, and taverns, and affordable living. Lying near the banks of the Nile River, the desert gave way to green-space here, providing a small oasis in the otherwise harsh climate.

Making his way to his favourite tavern, Bill cast a quick cleansing charm on himself to remove most of the dirt from his hair and clothes. He knew his face would still be streaked, but lately that was nothing new. As he entered, he spied a man at a table near an open window, an orange tabby seated on the table top pawing at a saucer the man was pouring milk into. Bill laughed and shook his head as he approached. 

"Still feeding that bloody cat, Seb?"

The young Egyptian wizard smirked but didn't look up as the cat began to lap at the milk. "All creatures deserve charity, my friend."

"Says the wizard who makes a living by swindling Muggles." Bill smirked as he slid into the chair opposite the other man.

At this Seb did look up, holding up a finger as he countered, "Muggles believe only what their eyes and minds allow." 

Seb, a parseltongue, billed himself as a snake charmer to unsuspecting Muggle tourists, knowing they wouldn't understand the magic that was taking place between the snakes in Seb's employ and Seb. It always worked out well for Seb and the snakes--Muggles would practically throw money at him to see him kiss a cobra, and the snakes were always well fed and well cared for.  

"Besides, Muggles who can afford the luxury of going on holiday hardly need the charity, do they?"

"Fair point," Bill conceded, motioning to the tavern keeper to bring them a round.  

"I take it you still haven't broken the curse?"

"What gave it away?" Bill deadpanned, sitting back and watching the cat drink. "I really think Grinrig's on the verge of sacking me this time."

"He won't. You're the best curse-breaker there is, and he knows it. Goblins are just...impatient." 

"I've got two days to figure this one out, Seb. Two days!! This is the Cursed Vaults all over again, except this time I'm not facing expulsion from Hogwarts and Professor McGongall's wrath... I'm facing being fired...or worse."

Seb was laughing at the English wizard with open amusement. "You will break the curse. Of this, I am certain."

"Yeah, wish I had your confidence." Bill picked up the shot glass brimming with Firewhiskey and tossed it back quickly. "You still on for going to the match this weekend? If I'm not sacked and selling my possessions by then, that is."

"Egypt against England," Seb grinned. "You think I would miss seeing your team getting crushed again?"

"Again? Pft." Bill argued, picking dirt from under his nails as a distraction. "England can't possibly lose as badly as they did last time."

Seb roared with laughter, making the cat jump beside him, and the wizard pet her to sooth her.  "Admit it, Bill. England doesn't stand a chance against our players."

Downing a second shot of Firewhiskey to avoid having to make that confession, Bill wiped his mouth on the back of his dirty hand, merely smearing more dirt across his face. "I best get to the flat and see if I can figure out a counter-curse against that bloody wall." He rose and scratched the cat behind the ears. "You mind if I borrow your owl? I think I might see if I can get a second opinion from someone." 

"About the curse or about your Quidditch team?" Seb teased with a smirk, then nodded. 

Bill clapped him on the shoulder. "See you back at the flat, then."

Leaving enough sickles on the table to cover the tab for the two shots, Bill headed off and made his way to his and Seb's shared flat, making a mental list of everything he needed to do. First, the shower. Second, he would write to an old professor he'd kept in touch with and inquire about spells that he, perhaps, had yet to consider. Third, he would pour through his texts to try and find the answer. 

The only thing Bill knew for certain at this moment in his life was that if England didn't win the match against Egypt this weekend, he was giving up all hope on ever hearing the end of it from Seb.

[white-persian-cat]

Persian Cat for Sale 3000 in Kolkata

Persian Cat for Sale 3000 in Kolkata: Your Guide to Finding the Perfect Furry Companion

27 February 2024 by whitepersiancat.com

Persian Cat for Sale 3000 in Kolkata: Persian cats are renowned for their luxurious coats, expressive eyes, and gentle demeanor. Originating from Persia (modern-day Iran), these felines have become a popular choice for cat lovers worldwide.

Table of Contents

Persian Cat for Sale 3000 in Kolkata: An Overview

Understanding the Price Range

Where to Find Persian Cats for Sale in Kolkata

Types of Persian Cats Available

Tips for Buying a Persian Cat

Considerations before Purchasing

Conclusion

FAQs

Can I find Persian cats for sale in Kolkata for 3000 rupees?

What should I look for when buying a Persian cat?

Are Persian cats suitable for apartment living?

Do Persian cats require special grooming?

Are Persian cats hypoallergenic?

What is the price of Persian cat in Kolkata?

What is the lowest price of Persian cat?

Which cat is best for pet?

What is the price of Persian cat in India 1000?

Persian Cat for Sale 3000 in Kolkata: An Overview

Understanding the Price Range

The price of a Persian cat can vary widely depending on various factors such as lineage, coat color, and age. While some may fetch exorbitant prices, others may be more affordable, especially for those with a budget of around 3000 rupees.

Where to Find Persian Cats for Sale in Kolkata

In Kolkata, prospective pet owners have several options when it comes to finding Persian cats for sale. Local breeders, online platforms like OLX, and pet shops are the primary sources. (Persian Cat for Sale 3000 in Kolkata).

Types of Persian Cats Available

When browsing for Persian cats, buyers may come across various types, including baby Persian cats, blue Persian cats, and black Persian cats. Each type has its unique characteristics and appeal.

Tips for Buying a Persian Cat

Before finalizing a purchase, it’s essential to conduct thorough research and follow some essential tips. These include performing a health check, verifying documentation, and evaluating the cat’s temperament. (Persian Cat for Sale 3000 in Kolkata).

Considerations before Purchasing

Prospective buyers must also consider certain factors before bringing a Persian cat into their homes. These include the commitment involved in pet ownership, space requirements, and potential allergies.

Also Read: How Persian Cat for Sale 3000 Near Me in India? Also Read: Discover Golden Persian Cat Price in India 2024

Conclusion

Persian Cat for Sale 3000 in Kolkata: finding a Persian cat for sale in Kolkata at an affordable price of 3000 rupees is possible with the right approach. By exploring various sources, understanding the price range, and considering essential factors, prospective pet owners can find their perfect furry companion.

FAQs

Can I find Persian cats for sale in Kolkata for 3000 rupees?

While it’s possible to find Persian cats within this price range, it’s essential to ensure they come from reputable sources and are in good health.

What should I look for when buying a Persian cat?

Buyers should prioritize health checks, documentation, and assessing the cat’s temperament before making a purchase.

Are Persian cats suitable for apartment living?

Yes, Persian cats can adapt well to apartment living, but they require sufficient space for exercise and grooming.

Do Persian cats require special grooming?

Yes, Persian cats have long, thick coats that require regular grooming to prevent matting and maintain their luxurious appearance.

Are Persian cats hypoallergenic?

While no cat breed is entirely hypoallergenic, some individuals with allergies may tolerate Persian cats better due to their minimal shedding and dander.

What is the price of Persian cat in Kolkata?

₹13,000 — ₹60,000 (varies depending on type and breeder)

What is the lowest price of Persian cat?

₹13,000 (for a Doll Face Persian)

Which cat is best for pet?

Depends on individual preferences and lifestyle. Consider factors like activity level, grooming needs, and temperament.

What is the price of Persian cat in India 1000?

Price information unavailable for “1000” (presumably a typo).

[atla-adult-au]

‘There’s Something About Mai’

<My vision of a Maitara>

2 gorgeous besties

This hc was inspired by the possibility of them being good friends from sadladybug’s fan fic Clothe Me in Seasons. But I ramped it a bit more to explore their sensual side.

In most cases, they would meet for occasional shoptalk where both would give glowing compliments to each other and sometimes talk about life in the palace that are not highly classified. In their extra, they would have tea, go to a spa, dine out, or watch a play. Mai would advise Katara on culture, tips on protocol, and the art of persuasion without ever having to raise her voice. Katara then would influence Mai to get out more and meet the people she was meant to rule.

In a way, they were more friends than lovers as they only have sparse encounters which gives them less chances of getting caught. Sometimes, encounters don’t mean all the way. It could be a quick canoodling or as simple as a smack or a deep kiss. They are secure enough to know where they stand and what they mean to each other where they dont make unnecessary demands from the other. Their clandestine meetings would be brief as they try their darnedest to sneak and squeeze at least 5 minutes of quick dallying.

They would send each other gifts and letters of how their day went, and how they’d miss each other. Katara bought diamond crusted barrettes for Mai she found at a high end shop she thought would look good on Mai. Mai wore it with pride on the right side just below her bun.

Mai had a custom made water heart and fire pin which Katara fastens near her breast. To many, this seemed like a tribute to her ancestry and current status as the lady of the fire nation which could also be the case. But in reality, this is a symbol of the special relationship she has with Mai.

Katara would have Mai’s measurements and send her a box of a beautiful but a tad too revealing dress in Mai’s signature black color and tells Mai she should show more skin.

Mai in turn would also send her a red dress with golden accents and tells Katara she should wear red and gold more because it goes great with her complexion.

Remembering that Zuko is allergic to cats, Mai gifted Katara with a hunting dog to her sons’ delight. Katara has three sons by this time at 25. The eldest and firebending heir Lu Ten who is 7 years old and 5 year old twins Kenji-a non bender, and Kaneo (Kah-Neh-Yo), a water bender. The children named the dog Zhen Zhen (precious).

Katara purchased what looked like a black Persian from a souk at the outskirts of the Si Wong dessert. Mai was so ecstatic that she squealed with joy when she removed the soft tarp to discover the golden eyed Persian temporarily housed within the gilded cage. She ironically named the cat Yuki (Snow) and hardly left her arm.

At one point, both women were pregnant at the same time. Katara’s fourth child to Mai’s first. Katara turned out to be carrying a baby girl she named Kya (who turns out to be another firebender). She was helping Mai in one of her terrible morning sickness which earned her the honor of being the godmother to Princess Shui (Shway) whose name means ‘water’ out of her gratitude (love) for Katara.

When they’re in a royal family gathering with their young children, Katara would dote on Shui while Mai would pour her love on Katara’s sons. She would make sure they keep their manners and give a listening ear to their mis-adventures. The boys’ stories would make Mai laugh so hard. Her favorite tales would be from Kaneo which turned out to be a little Sokka.

The only thing they didn’t do together yet was spar as there were memories they’d rather forget for fear of hurting the other. Mai was also very secretive of her techniques at first. Nevertheless, Katara gushes about Mai’s knife skills as a nonbender and Mai worships Katara’s ability to bloodbend. With Zuko’s encouragement, the two would practice their joust in a form of a dance. The queens even gave a surprise performance on King Kuei’s birthday which astonished the crowds.

Katara is openly vocal to Mai about Mai’s beauty, grace, and class. This in turn makes Mai smile when she gets compliments from Katara. The Earth Kingdom Palace staff noticed that Mai is shown to smile a lot more when Katara’s around. Katara’s wit, her nurturing personality, openness, and ability to please which Mai never felt with Jun was so endearing to her. Also, Mai is proud for having a badass lover that she never expected more than anything Katara is able to give. Mai knew from the beginning that Katara can only love Zuko and that was enough. The Earth King has his suspicions of what lies beneath but Zuko knows and is permissive of their relationship as long as Katara doesn’t neglect her duties. Mai even assists Katara on some of her tasks by being there for her to give her moral support on some of her charitable endeavors and would at times act as proxy if needed.

Mai even accompanied Katara to the Northern Kingdom and the Southern Water Tribe to oversee reconstruction projects sponsored by the Earth Kingdom. This was when Mai asked Katara why Zuko never asked to heal his facial scar. Katara replied that both of them decided not to. That Zuko has learned to live with it and that his scar helps him to recognize that he has come a long way. The scar in a way also makes him not to look like his father, as he says. Katara respected his wishes and and even supported Zuko because she sees his scar as a badge of honor for standing up to his tryant father and his father’s general. Katara also said that she got so used to the scar that she hardly even notices it anymore. What she can’t stand was, and asked Zuko not to repeat it again, was that wolf tail pony he used to sport when he was younger. Both Katara and Mai laughed and agreed that this wasn’t his best look. Mai’s visits to the colder regions only happened once as Katara understood that Mai couldn’t stand the cold.

They also worked as partners in bringing down their enemies-For the Earth Kingdom it was the Dai Li. For the Fire Nation it was The Red Lotus (after the New Ozai was disbanded following his father’s assassination in prison.) Zuko would help from time to time and they would all work disguised as ‘The Blue Spirit’, ‘The Painted Lady’ and ‘The Blade Queen’, also pegged as ‘the Dark Triad’.

In the span of seven years that they were together, they were lovers only on very rare moons and would spend a three way liaison only three times. One time on each of their birthdays. They all would plan ahead to meet a few days shy or a week after so nobody can put two and two together.

In every ‘session’, either between Katara and Mae, or all three of them, they have to be extremely cautious to avoid even a whiff of tongue wagging. They would form elaborate plans to meet from sending coded messages, stealthily snucking out of the palace dressed as regular folk, to renting barely furnished inns. This didn’t hamper their duties to their nation or to their families as this was rarely done. When they do meet on normal circumstances, they would act like the best of friends that they are.

On very rare instances of a three way, it was always Katara who calls the shots. The first time was a surprise for Zuko’s birthday. Despite having Mai there to enjoy them both, Zuko only made love to Katara that night as the risk of also impregnating the Earth Kingdom queen may start another war. The second time was on Katara’s birthday two years later. Katara relented to Mae serving Zuko but he still made love only to Katara that day. However on Mai’s 33rd birthday, Katara offered her husband to please Mai to Zuko’s reluctance. The feeling of compersion from all three of them was so immense (For Katara to give Mae the pleasure of what her husband gives her, for Katara to give Zuko the experience of an exciting and dangerous interlude, and for Mae and Zuko to satisfy Katara on her whimsical fantasy), that Katara even encouraged Zuko to sire a child with Mai likely as an effect of post coital passion. Both Zuko and Mai were relieved that Mai had her period two weeks after. Both of them swore never to indulge Katara in her whims as it is not worth it for them to risk their kingdom and reputation so the triad tryst never happened again. As a sign of mea culpa, Zuko and Katara gifted Mai with a promise ring of friendship on her birthday party held at the grand hall of the earth kingdom palace.

Still the gossips were bound to form, some wildly exaggerated than others (as if the actual events were not already wild in itself) but was never confirmed by any of them, nor were they discovered. But some stories cannot be kept hidden and will be revealed in its own time. Even Sokka and Suki dropped hints to which the three of them just ignored (or avoided).

None of the nobles on any kingdoms dare ask about their close-knit friendship for fear that they may share the same fate of the unfortunate nobleman more than a decade ago.

[rakeshsouthcorona]

Top 3 Best Cat Foods in 2023

Hey, cat parents! How is the new year treating you and your purr-machine? Are you trying to change your cat’s diet by switching to something more healthy and sustainable? Here are the best three cat foods that you can try this year! 

But first, why am I recommending these? I myself visited a popular pet food shop near me and purchased these items for my cat. Let me assure you, my kitten quickly accepted the new flavors and the fussy eater is enjoying her meals nowadays. I hope, the suggestions work for your cats as well. 

Royal Canin Fit 32

It is suitable for adult cats aged 1 to 7 years old and has been specially designed to meet all of your cat's nutritional requirements for supporting and maintaining your cat's current health situation.

Whiskas Ocean Fish Adult Cat Food 

This wet cat food recipe provides moisture as well as nutrition plus they are easy to eat and digest.  Cat breeds ranging from Persian Cat to British Shorthair to Siamese Cat can benefit from this diet. 

Purepet Tuna and Salmon Adult Cat Food

Vitamins, minerals, and other nutrients promote the health of cats. Probiotics help to improve digestion and immunity.

Visit Corona Pet shop or order online from them and give these amazing treats a try. 

[egnaroo]

05 easy ways to groom your dog at home

05 easy ways to groom your dog at home

Routine grooming will make your dog good-looking while healthy. Dog’s coats, teeth, ears, and bails must be cleaned due to they can have parasites or can be infected. Good hygiene habits are essential for a healthy man as well as a dog. Unlike humans, some dog breeds need daily grooming.  If you are busy with your work and can’t do it yourself, you can get professional help for a good job. But…

[silenthearts]

I’m just your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman

Summary: You and Luke have a date planned but being the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman gets in the way of your plans

Genre: This is tooth rotting fluff, Luke helping old ladies, kittens and young boys and girls with their football skills!

Also this is set where Both Miles and Peter have retired from being Spiderman. You can send me ideas of what you’d want me to write about within the universe.

Requests are open , I’d love to write more Spiderman!Luke, I may even do a mood board

****

You had been looking forward to a date with Luke for ages, both of you had been extremely busy and with your hectic lives, it had been almost impossible to just have some time for yourselves.

But today you had an extra hour for lunch and Luke had been at university all day and the “superhero” side gig had been fairly calm, so you decided that you were both gonna grab some lunch and stroll around somewhere.

You left the office super excited as you could be a normal couple for at least an hour today. The spring air caressed your cheeks as you walked quite quickly towards the coffee shop you agreed to meet Luke at.

A smile was fixed on your lips the whole way, who knew a lunch date with your long-term boyfriend could be so exciting.

Luke stood leaning on the lamp-post in front of the coffee shop, two hot drinks in his hands as he looked around for your face in the crowd. You saw him from a distance as he looked around and avoided his gaze so you could surprise him. You slowly walked up behind the tall boy and tried to put your hands over his eyes, but failing miserably as he was too tall for you to completely cover his eyes. Instead, your hands awkwardly rested on his cheeks which made an audible giggle escape his lips.

“Guess who?” You said, trying to not laugh yourself.

“Oh, I don’t know, who could it possibly be?” He giggled, going along with your silliness. “Is it Mr stark?” He said jokingly which made you drop your hands. Luke turned around to face you and you giggled

“Close enough,” you said as he offered you your hot drink which you thanked him for with a little peck on his soft lips.

“So, where are we going?” He asked as you both started walking aimlessly in a random direction.

“I was thinking, maybe central park? Get a hot dog for lunch?” you suggested, your hand found his as your fingers interlaced. He nodded.

“Sounds like a plan!” he said excitedly and pulled you in the direction of central park. On the way, both of you talked about your day and how your apartment really needed a tidy and maybe a better paint job. Luke told you how the Spiderman gig had been quite quiet today and he almost didn’t know what to do with the normalcy of just being a student.

When both of you got to the park entrance and got two hotdogs from your favourite hot dog stand, Luke noticed an old lady who stood yelling up at a tree.

“C’mon  Snowball! You got up there, you need to get down!” Meows were heard from the tree but nobody seemed to be helping the poor lady, New Yorkers and tourists alike just ignored the old lady pleading at her cat who seemed to be stuck up the tree.

You observed Luke and just tapped him on the shoulder

“You can go help her” you smiled. Luke had a worried look on his face, his eyebrows knitted together as he restrained to not leave you on your date.

“But the date-” He tried to say but you just shook your head, “ I think she needs you more than I do, besides I get to annoy you at home every day.” he smiled and gave you a deep kiss as he ran away and left you with his food. You found a bench nearby and sat waiting for Spiderman to appear. You didn’t even wait a full five minutes when he came swinging down.

He swiftly landed near the old lady making her excitedly sigh in relief as she saw him and he walked in her direction.

“Do you need help mam?” he said politely, approaching her. His suit made you blush every time as he looked so handsome. Let’s just say you liked that the suit hugged him in all the right places.

“My snowball got up to that tree and I don’t want to pull his leash and make him fall” she explained and pointed up the tree where a fluffy Persian white cat stood on the tree branch.

Luke nodded “Don’t worry mam, I’ll bring your snowball back down safely!” With a web he pulled himself up the tree, at the point, there was a small crowd gathered around the tree, all looking up as he approached the little fluffy cat, at this point you observed him from a closer spot, and your heart couldn't help but feel tight and warm and Luke’s little soft voice as he tried to get the cat’s attention.

“Hello, snowball...” Luke said softly, his voice a bit muffled by his mask. The cat meowed and turned away from Luke. “Hey I know we don’t really know each other but like we are buddies now,” he spoke as he slowly made his way onto the same branch where snowball stood. The tree branch cracked under his weight and everyone let out a gasp as Luke steadied himself.

Snowball sat on the edge of the branch, it felt like he was mocking Luke on purpose. Snowball meowed in Luke’s direction as he slowly made his way further, maintaining his balance.

‘I know buddy but it’s time to come down” Luke whispered as he finally got a hold of the chubby and fluffy snowball, the circle of people underneath the tree all started clapping but it wasn’t long till the branch broke under Luke’s feet. Thankfully his fast reflexes made him shoot up a web that held him and snowball in place. The tree branch fell and Luke yelled for the crowd to disperse.

Thankfully everyone did and Luke slid down the web, snowball held in one of his arms, the crowd started clapping once again as he delivered the cat to the old lady who had small tears in the brim of her eyes. “There you go mam, safe and sound” He held out snowball to the old lady who held her beloved cat close to her chest.

“Thank you so much, you’re a very nice young man.” She said as she tapped his shoulder in reassurance, a wide smile plastered on her lips.

“Oh, thank you so much, it was a pleasure to help” Luke gave snowball one last tap on his little fluffy head “ You need to be more careful next time buddy.” He said happily with a giggle at the end. Everyone swarmed Spiderman but he made way so the old lady and her cat could safely exit the crowd of people who had formed around them.

He, of course, stood behind to greet fans and talk to everyone who wanted to talk to him, even taking a few silly selfies. Once people started dispersing, he made his way back to you, a smile was on your face and your cheeks were rosy from the slight chill in the air, and because your boyfriend was the kindest person you’ve ever met.

You sometimes wonder if these radioactive spiders just go around choosing and picking the nicest guys, sometimes it feels like it.

He finally approached you “Did you see that?” He said excitedly “I am your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman!” He giggled, Luke had wanted to just do that for a while, the big villains and steaks of the last few years had left him a bit fatigued and exhausted, he was happy to just save kittens from trees and stop bicycle robberies.

“You are indeed!” You exclaimed happily. Your moment just the two of you didn’t last long, however.

“Hey, Spiderman!” A kid yelled loudly from the little concrete football (soccer) field. “Do a flip!” Another little girl yelled. Luke laughed and happily obliged at the request, doing backflip which made the kids erupt into celebratory laughs and chants. Luke gave you a tilt of his head and you playfully rolled your eyes.

The kids yelled a request for Luke to join them for a football game and you nodded “Go on...” He excitedly made his way to the group of children, giving high fives to all the boys and girls who stood around him. Soon enough you sat at a park bench, eating your and Luke’s hot dogs as he played around with the children, letting them all play against him and consequently letting them win every game.

You knew your date got somehow pushed into the background, but there was nothing you enjoyed more than seeing Luke happy and doing what he liked most. His kindness with everyone overwhelmed your heart with happiness, You couldn’t have asked for anyone better than him, your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.

****

Okay this made me soft, spiderman!luke is like one of my fav things to write atm. Mostly cuz I cant wait for the new Spiderman movie. I hope you enjoyed lovelies xx

[persiankittencat]

Baby Persian kittens are undoubtedly some of the most adorable and endearing creatures on the planet. In this article, we'll take you on a journey into the world of baby Persian kittens in India, where you can discover the joys of welcoming one of these fluffy felines into your life. From understanding the uniqueness of Persian cats to finding the perfect kitten near you, we've got it all covered.

[thischickwritessometimes]

MYSME RBB

Hey!! I joined my first ever collab this year for the Mystic Messenger fandom! It was totally awesome, and I lucked out and got someone super cool as my artist. Shout out to @thedum1, who was my partner for this. Go check out their amazing art that goes along with my writing, and give them some love. Without further ado, here’s the fic!

(You can also find this on ao3!)

Saeyoung decided that he’d been sitting in one place for far too long. His back was screaming in agony, his eyes were trying desperately to make the computer screen focus, and his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. All of those combined to make him feel miserable, like he was going to explode if he sat there for even one more minute. 

He shut down his workstation, making sure that his work remained where it was, the computer encoded carefully to make sure that no one could get into it and change things. Of course, if someone was going to get in, they’d have to break through the security in his house, which wasn’t likely to happen. He’d just figured out the best password for his front gate, after all. As Saeyoung idly considered his password (and other possible future ones), he slid on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. 

He stopped in the kitchen to grab a package of Honey Buddha Chips and then was off, heading into town on some form of a quest. The destination isn’t important, he tells himself, just the experience. He just needed some fresh air, a sight that wasn’t his computer screen (or, more recently, the wall slightly above and behind his computer), and perhaps a reminder that there were other humans in the world outside of himself and Vanderwood.

He hummed to himself as he walked, enjoying the sun on his skin and the sounds of birds and people talking. Couples were walking just about everywhere in the park, each chatting and laughing happily. Some younger kids were running around chasing each other. A dog sprinted past Saeyoung, chasing a stick that had just been thrown. 

The dog reminded him of Elly. She always was willing to run around his feet happily as he played with her in Jumin’s apartment. He missed the white cat. It’d been far too long since he last saw her, and he mentally decided to schedule a time to break through his friend’s security to see the fluffy Persian again.

As he walked along, a flyer for a pet shop caught his eye. It was advertising a day to come play with the animals, both cats and dogs alike. As he stopped to read it more thoroughly, Saeyoung realized that if he headed to the shop right now he could get in at least an hour and a half with the cats (and maybe some dogs too). Now armed and ready with a plan of action, he set off with a purpose, striding quickly to the pet store.

As he neared it, he noticed that not many people were lingering around. Saeyoung realized that this must be one of the less popular pet shops and was sad to see that, especially because it looked very charming and quaint. As he pushed open the door, a bell above his head let out a quiet sound to alert an employee that someone had arrived.

Sure enough, a slightly frazzled-looking young man appeared. His hair was shaggy and black, long enough that it was falling into his eyes just slightly. The eyes in question were a stunning blue-green that Saeyoung wouldn’t mind looking into for a while. He tried to shake off that thought. He was here for cute cats, not cute people.

“How can I help you?” The guy asked, a small smile on his face. 

“I’m here to play with the cats. I saw a flyer saying that you guys had free time for that?”

“Oh, of course! Right this way. I think there’s only one other person in there, so it shouldn’t be that much of a crowd. Feel free to use any of the toys out. And don’t worry, the only one that scratches is our resident sourpuss, Yoshi.” The employee opened the door carefully and Saeyoung peered in, amazed at all the cats running around or napping. 

There was one girl sitting happily in the middle of the room, surrounded by cats. She had a dark skin tone and was wearing a pink skirt and what Saeyoung was pretty sure was a halter top. (How he knew that? Well, let’s just say that he had been considering one for cosplay for a long time.) When she turned to look at him, he spotted glasses and heterochromatic eyes. One brown, the other a bright blue. 

She’s cute, was his first thought. It only amplified when he realized that her hair had a piece sticking up that looked to be meticulously formed into a heart like you would see on a lovesick anime girl. Her dedication spoke volumes and he knew that he would probably end up liking this girl if they talked. 

He shook his head slightly. No, he couldn’t be thinking about that. Not today! He was here for cute cats, not cute girls or cute boys. His mind was set firmly on petting all the adorable creatures. 

So he walked past the girl, giving her a faint smile. She returned it with a glowing one that practically lit up her entire face, and Saeyoung had to hide how his heart pattered at the sight. He focused his eyes on a particularly cute orange cat that was napping peacefully in a ray of sunlight.

As he reached out to pet it carefully, the cat responded by purring softly, like this was everything it could have dreamed of. However, after a while it tired of his antics and scratched softly at his hand in warning. He chuckled and pulled his hand away, letting the feline relax by itself. His eyes scanned the room for another willing friend and they snagged on a little black and white kitten.

It was pawing at a toy, obviously bored. Saeyoung crawled over carefully and picked up the toy, which appeared to be a feather on a string. He bounced it around, and the kitten started to paw at it. It got into the game, eventually leaping at it until it tired itself out. 

Saeyoung made a “pspsps” noise, trying to attract the kitten to him. Its ears perked up and it headed over to his lap, where he petted it softly. The cat seemed like just the perfect companion, and if he could adopt a cat right now he would definitely consider this little guy as the one.

There was a quiet intake of breath over his shoulder, and Saeyoung looked back to see the girl gazing fondly at the kitten. As soon as she noticed his gaze, she colored, blushing slightly. “Ah! Sorry to bother you!”

“Oh, it’s not an issue,” he said, giving her a smile. “He’s a cute one, isn’t he?” He gestured to the kitten that had made itself comfortable in his lap. 

“Yes, he really is. I must admit, I may have been looking at him the entire time… but I got a little nervous he wouldn’t like me.” She looked away, seemingly embarrassed. 

“Well,” Saeyoung said, an idea coming to mind. “Let’s test that out, shall we?” With that, he scooped up the feline and plopped him directly in her lap. The cat seemed stunned at first, and Saeyoung worried that he would hiss and claw at the abrupt change. Instead, the cat sniffed at the girl and then settled in again, seemingly unconcerned by what had just happened. 

“Oh,” the girl said, smiling. “He’s lovely.” Her hands went to softly pet him. 

After a few minutes, she looked up. The cat was happily asleep in her lap, purring softly. She spoke again, her voice quiet so as to not disturb the kitten. “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Jasmine, but you can call me Jas. It’s good to meet you…”

She trailed off, searching for a name. Saeyoung smiled at her before giving her his fake name. “I’m Luciel. It’s good to meet you as well, Jas. It seems like you’ve got a way with cats, huh?”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” she said with a laugh. “I do love them though. Cats are some of the best animals, in my opinion.”

“You have a top-tier opinion then. I’m inclined to agree!”

“So I take it you’re a cat enthusiast as well, Luciel?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “I have a friend who has a gorgeous cat and that’s kind of what kickstarted my love for them.”

“Have you ever considered getting one?” She cocked her head, but her hands never left the black and white kitten.

“I’d be lying if I said no. But my job is kind of crazy, and I can honestly say that I don’t think a cat would be good for me right now. Someday soon, hopefully. What about you?”

“I actually came here today hoping to adopt. I’ve been looking for a while but I never found one that I really loved. Well, until today. But I’m still not completely sure…”

“Well the little guy loves you, I can tell that much. And if I’m wrong, which is not very likely, let me tell you, he’s the kind of cat that will always be able to find a new home.” Saeyoung stretched and winked at her.

“Well in that case… I guess I’ll need a name for him, huh?” She looked down with a smile. “Got any good ones?” Jasmine’s heterochromatic eyes twinkled with a hidden glee when Saeyoung’s face lit up. 

“Oh boy, do I! I’ve been saving up all sorts of names for this. Okay, there are the classics, like Fluffy, Batdude, Charles. Oh, and you can’t forget Toast!” His rambling list of (admittedly awful) cat names went on for a long time, leaving Jas halfway to tears with laughter as he continued. When he finally drew his list to a close, both of them had laughed so hard that the kitten had woken up and the employee had poked his head in to make sure that nothing bad was going on.

“Okay, okay,” Saeyoung said once he’d calmed down slightly, “any names catch your fancy?”

“I mean Fuzzbucket was a pretty good idea, but I think I decided on Tama.”

Saeyoung and Jas looked down at the same time to inspect the cat. The black and white kitten released a soft mewl and butted his head at Jas’ hand to request more pets. The two scheming partners in crime looked at each other and smiled. 

“Tama is perfect.” They both said at the same time, then blushed and looked away. Saeyoung swore that when he looked at her cradling the tiny cat next to her chest she seemed to glow with happiness.

Soon enough the time to play with cats was over and the employee was putting the animals back in their cages and thanking them for coming to play with the cats. Jas told him about her interest in adopting Tama, and the employee got her the forms she would need to sign before she could take the kitten home. Saeyoung stayed with her as she filled the forms out, the both of them laughing and chatting the entire time. When all was said and done, Jas hoisted the carrier that held Tama up and exited the building, Saeyoung holding the door for her.

Jas scanned the street, then took a deep breath in, steeling her nerves. “I had a really good time today, Luciel. I was wondering if you’d like to do it again some...time?” She turned around to see the man gone. Her brows furrowed as she swiveled her head to see where he’d gone. “Luciel?”

Saeyoung, who had darted behind a pillar beside the pet store, let out a quiet sigh of disappointment. He gritted his teeth together when he heard Jas whisper sadly to Tama that “he must not have wanted to talk anymore, huh?” 

He leaned his head against the pillar and stayed there until he heard the quiet clip-clop of her shoes walking away. Then he tore himself away from the pillar and walked towards home, hands shoved into his pockets, knowing that he would always remember the girl from the pet shop.

The sounds of music coming from a radio fill the kitchen. A black and white cat races around its owners’ feet as they try to dance. Laughter and pure contentment fill the air as the redhead twirls around the girl with one blue eye and one brown one. 

Years ago, when I was younger, I kinda liked a girl I knew. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” Jas asked, her skirt swinging wildly as Saeyoung spun her enthusiastically.

“How could I forget? That pet shop must be the most magical place on this Earth to me.”

She was mine, and we were sweethearts. That was then, but then it’s true.

“I was so upset when you disappeared, you know. I thought you’d gotten sick of me.”

“I was just as upset, trust me. But I thought I had to, because of the agency. And with Rika and the RFA… it just wasn’t a good time.” Saeyoung shook his head, but then pulled Jas closer to him as they waltzed across the floor.

I’m in love with a fairytale, even though it hurts. Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind, I’m already cursed.

“And then I showed up at Rika’s apartment a few weeks later. Crazy how fate works like that, huh?”

“Oh trust me, I was incredibly surprised to see you appear on the CCTV feed. If my life had a playlist of all the moments where I nearly fell out of my chair, that would definitely be on the top ten list.” 

“I was just as shocked as you were, trust me! I had told myself that I would never see you again, but then there you were!” Jas shook her head. “I had half-convinced myself you were some figment of my imagination.”

Every day we started fighting, but every night we fell in love. No one else could make me sadder, but no one else could lift me high above.

“I feel bad that I tried to push you away while we were both in the apartment. It was hard for me because you were the thing that made me happy and also frustrated me to no end. After all, I was sure I would hurt you.” 

“I wanted to punch you so much, I hope you know. I was at my wit’s end when you finally opened up a little bit!”

“But I did, and look at where we ended up. I opened up, got my brother back, and I got the privilege of having you in my life as my girlfriend and now fiancee.”

“I’m glad that it all worked out because there’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my days with.”

“The same goes to you, Jas.”

“I love you, Saeyoung Choi. Bad cat names and all.” Jas said as the music started to slowly die down.

“And I love you, Jasmine Luna, no matter how much time you spend in the bathroom doing your hair.” Saeyoung responded, dipping Jas as she let out a quiet squeal.

The two laughed and continued dancing late into the night, Tama observing from his perch high above.

I’m in love with a fairytale, even though it hurts. Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind, I’m already cursed.

And there’s the fic!! Reminder to check out the awesome @thedum1 for their amazing art!!

[bibliocratic]

‘this is the trouble, even now, with being an archive’

or: Martin’s not the only one overly susceptible to the Lonely 

nebulous post-160 domestic future, hurt/comfort and softness, jonmartin and the cottagecore life they deserve

Jon loses himself in the odds-and-sods shop.

The sign on the door makes promises of it being a cosy bookshop. And there are books, certainly, stalagmites of tomes and paperbacks and collections teetering graspingly up towards the ceiling.

The books are absent flatmates however compared to the boisterous gaggle of stuff that takes up room everywhere else. Teacup candles balanced on Norton Anthologies. A wooden rocking horse keeping the dusty Faber and Faber poetry company. It's bizarre flotsam of the most incomprehensible comforting sort, and it sometimes bustles its way to star in the shop's equally manic window display.

Which is why Jon first came in. He'd told himself that this trip into town was an in-and-out only affair; pick up the spices he couldn't get at the small-stocked village shop, buy more firelighters and return some of Martin's horde to the library from whence it came. He's entertaining some thoughts of making a start on pruning back some of the more frivolous bushes in the garden if the weather holds, though he knows his knees won't credit the idea by the evening if he does so.

But then he saw the pen in the window. Silver filigree engraved at the end like frost spiralling up a window, the base colour deep and blue. 

And it's not anywhere near Christmas, and there's no birthdays for another few months, but Jon looks at it and he can see Martin sat in the two-seater in their living room,  holding the pen, tongue between his teeth as he worries at words, scratching and rewriting and humming when he's caught upon a phrase he feels sits well.

He goes inside with all the furtiveness of a guilty cat. Maryam is at the counter today, and she beams to see him. And he intends – completely – to pick out the pen and be done with it. But Maryam gets talking even once he's pointed out and paid for the pen, and he's twisted up in the soft and easy twirl of her conversation. The pen does come with a box, a regular black affair, but she mentions that they've got in a few antique pen cases down at the back of the non-fiction isle – covering P for Persian Empire to T for Travelogues – and Jon fancifully commits to having a leisurely look because he's going to have to wait for the next bus back anyway, quite taken by the idea of being able to leave such a distinguished looking surprise on the side-table near Martin's armchair for him to find when he comes in from work.

He considers the cases with a furrowing frown, as though weighing up some great decision. For so long in fact, he doesn't notice the shop dip quiet, the muffled steps and page-flicking of other patrons muted to silent.

He glances up, around. Puts back the supple brown leather case he was thinking over, stepping out of his isolated row.

There is no one at the front desk. No one in the other shelves. Through the clogged-up and slapdash window display, he sees no one on the street outside and a sky starting to grey with the threat of rain.

He notices – far away, like glancing through the wrong end of a telescope – that his breathing is getting faster.

“Maryam?” he says, but his voice croaks heatless. He tells himself that he's too old for this now, to be taken in by such worn-down ghosts, that she's gone in the back, that it's just gone quiet, that's all. But the silence is a terror that begets greater, stronger strains, a cycling distress of pin-balling fears and memories, and there is no one around, no one coming, and the panting of his own body is so loud in such an empty space.

And he has always been more easily enveloped by some fears than by others.

He hears the wash of mile-distant waves, as though behind the shelves to the front of the shop, and thinks not here, not here.

He tries to shake his head loose of the fog beginning to bind it like cobwebbing wisps. But the world has such terrors in it, and the Archive keeps record of them all. And that's what Jon is, in the end. A dutiful collection of horror, cruelly moulded into such service by a long dead man. He's long since unshouldered the mantle of Archivist, yet Archive has proven to be such a long-lived, enduring post.

Behind his eyes, he plays out the washed-out retellings of all those almost lost to the Lonely.

He's the statement of Zoe Aristidou, who moved to a beam-bright city but brought her fog along with her, who lost her face amongst the impartial crowds, sanded away like a wind-abused statue.

The statement of Keira Hurley, who struggled to make friends, who drank thinking it might stuff up the gaping absence inside her where the fog was beginning to spark up like struck flint, who would lose her keys, and her wallet and whole days to unremembrance.

There is the echo of beachland nearby and Jon's lost sight of the shelves. The layering cares and carefully tended wards that make him up are starting to peel away.

He rubs at his hands and the colour wipes off like highlighter on whiteboard, smearing before vanishing, his skin blotching with an absent glass-colour of nothing at all. And it's not real, it can't be, it's years since he sighted this muted, mist-encrusted shoreline, the way it gnawed at and  sapped Martin's skin translucent, younger then, his hair still unpicked by white.

But it's so easy to return here even after all that time. Like tripping over your own feet.

It is peaceful here. It always is.

Jon grips the pen, feeling the drunken choke of the statement of Keira Hurley, how it makes his legs unmoored and unbalanced, and he thinks no, no, I'm going to give this to him, I'll surprise him, I'll leave it on his side table to find when he gets home. And the statement is thick on his tongue, as he recalls how she woke up, head woozy, and she had not known where she was, had forgotten her address, her name, and the muted panic of her fear sleeked her face with tears, and Jon shakes his head fervently to try and clear it.

He thinks of how Martin will glow, pleased, will say something like you shouldn't have, or even, you know I don't need any more, and Jon will say, I know but I wanted to, I know but I thought of you, I know but I wanted to make you happy.

There is sand crunching underfoot as he walks, and he's getting lost.

He is the statement of Agneta Blom regarding her grandmother Ebba Blom, swallowed by the fog in her later years at a nursing home; the statement of Lakshman Hamal, the last member of his regiment far from home; the statement of Finlay Erskine, a lone lighthouse keeper midst a terrible storm.

And Jon is one man but he is also all these stories – he breathes in salt-damp from a wave spray that leaves freckles of water struck across his face, he feels the knotted ache in his legs from where he's crouched, tense and gripping his kukri for hours, the over-softness of blankets and pillows and the faded mist of lavender down an empty hallway.

He feels his fingers cramping around the sides of the pen, and he wants to think of Martin, to fill up with recollections of him,  but Martin is someone Jon knows, someone Jon loves, and it is so very hard to remember he is Jon at the moment.  

The fog that subsumes him like a dust cloud, it's muffling. Quiet. He who is Agneta Blom and Lakshman Hamal and Finlay Erskine and so many other names that are layering palimpsest over Jonathan Blackwood, he wanders the beach to the shoreline, letting the sea lap over his shoes. The sky is expectant with dour rainclouds, and his jean cuffs are getting wet, and he hears a distant tumult of voices ever so far off. Like a muttered conversation in another room, a tune playing in a building he is walking past.

“...call the school.... It's Mr Blackwood, Conor... one of his turns.... don't crowd the poor man, let him be...”

The Archive drinks in the flat, null landscape with interest and lets the fog bury into the soft spaces of him. It wants to walk out into the shallow waters and see what swims there.

There's a pen in his hand, and it's heavy, and it weighs him down shore-bound.

“Jon? Hey, hey, Jon. Don't go out so far, yeah?”

The Archive sucks in a breath. It is not salted with a harsh coastal grind, it does not bite at his throat. The air is warm, dry with indoor heating, and the people he is not, Agneta and Lakshman and Finlay and Mairead and Pavo and so many more witness to Forsaken, begin to slough off him like autumnal leaves.

There is a hand on his arm, someone being shushed, a breathing like someone's been running.

“That's it, you're doing so well, you can do it.”

He is Jonathan again. He blinks loose the crisping grains of salt that have begun to sediment in his lashes. There are tears streaming down his face, he realises belatedly, and he is trembling like he's freezing.

He looks at Martin who makes up such a happy horizon to be greeted by, looking down. His tie become loose, who has come from work, sweat-patches at the front of his chest, his throat and face reddened with exertion, who is still wearing his navy lanyard, has board pens clunking in his pocket. Martin who is grounding him.

“I...” he says, clearing his throat feeling stupid, and then he is thrusting out the pen almost bullishly. “I got you a pen.”

Maybe Martin doesn't understand how important it is for him to see. But he nods delicately, and carefully nods, takes it from Jon's shaking fingers – You shouldn't have, you know, he says like Jon's foolish, but fondly, ever so, just like Jon thought he would, and Jon almost sobs to be granted such a small victory.  

“You wanting me to call Doctor Varma, Mr B?” comes the tentative, worried voice of Conor at Martin's elbows – sixteen, his voice breaking awkwardly, helping out in the shop after school; Jon remembers lending him books when he was a precocious, demanding child, voracious for knowing.

“We should be ok,” Martin replies kindly. To Jon, he says:

“Julienne's car's out front.”

Jon frowns, confused, before remembering – theirs is in for its MOT, Martin must have borrowed it to cross the three miles between the villages. There is something heavy around his shoulders, warm and scratchy, and he wants to wonder but the questions are sunken in the softness still lingering in his head.

“Do you need...?” Jon starts, and the words are thick and phlegmy in his throat. “The school...?”

“Julienne's covering my last class,” Martin says soothingly. “They understand.”

Jon nods. Years ago, he might have apologised, stewed in how much he needed Martin today, but time has wasted away those anxieties.

“Thank you for coming for me,” he replies instead, his voice still sea-bitten and hoarse, and lets Martin lead him wobbly-legged out of the door so they can drive home.

[inki-cap]

Jimson Weed

So, after delving into the world of Assassin’s Creed, in particular Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla, and getting to know quite a bit about a friend’s AC OC, I’ve decided to make a sorta variant of an OC of mine and basically adjust them into the AC Universe. 

After a lot of convos between them, I’ve written quite a lot of works between my OC, their OC and a certain character. I’m still learning quite a lot and am in absolute love with all of this, so don’t pay too much mind to this. Also note that I am in no way a master writer or anything great, just here to have some fun. 

Enjoy!

OC-Anna Kastello belongs to @pxiedustnblades

OC-Mari belongs to me

Featuring Basim Ibn Ishaq

_____________________________________________________________

Hammersmith, London, UK. 

1:01 a.m. 

Sturgeon Moon

The night is calm, serene. A typical late evening. 

Sounds of footsteps along the stones alongside the River Thames, soft chattering among those out and about. Young adults coming out of the restaurants all around, laughing and enjoying the night in the town, with bellies full of food and ale. Some stumble about, some walk slowly. But they all fit within the scenery of Hammersmith and its bustling yet quiet streets. 

That is all but one. 

A long drag of a cigarette, and then a long exhale. They overlook the murky waters of the River Thames, a soft chuckle to themselves. 

“We didn’t exactly come here to just stare at this shit river, now did we?” 

With a quick flick of the wrist, the burning cigarette flies into the waters below. 

Walking through the streets, this mysterious figure comes to view in the lights, though no one pays any special attention to them. They hold themselves in a relaxed manner, hands in the pockets of their black bomber jacket and a slight smirk on their face. Their short black hair moves slightly to the late night wind, almost guiding them to continue onto their destination.

A short distance later, and they’ve arrived. Across the street, there is a beige colored brick building, and in front is a small bookshop. A mahogany wood door, and to the side wide glass windows, showing the warm inside of the shop, filled to the brim with all sorts of books. From where this figure is standing, they could even read some of the titles from the windows. 

Great Expectations. 

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind. 

The History of the Ancient World

All The Light We Cannot See

But they can also spot a red glare from both within and outside the shop. Cameras.

“Of fucking course. But cameras never stopped anyone, now do they?” 

They quickly pull out a small sleek device, shaped like a smartphone. Quick on their feet, they walk across the street and stay just outside the camera's view, watching them move their full rotations. Just as both cameras move to the other side of the shop, they switch the device on. It gave a quick high-pitched whine, and then fell silent, a green light on its side was now blinking. As they looked up at the cameras again, they stopped moving. 

“Fifteen minutes. Let’s make it quick, huh?” 

Setting the device down along the glass windows, the figure now moved to the mahogany door, pulling out a silver lock pick, and within seconds...

Click. Click.

The door slowly swings open, the figure making special care so it doesn’t hit the shelves or ring the bell above. Despite the lights being off, it still gave a homey vibe. Shelves filled with books on either side of the shop, each labelled with its appropriate genre and in alphabetical order according to author. Cozy plush chairs alongside the shelves. Persian rugs lining along the shelves and under the tables. Small tables set in the center, some designated tables for customers to sit down and read; others set with books and lists of recommendations for any customers who aren’t sure what they want. In the back, there are a set of stairs that lead to the upper level of the shop, another level filled with more books. If the figure came here during the day, this would definitely be a space where one would get a hot drink and pick out a book, just simply relaxing and taking in the warm and soft atmosphere. But what they’re looking for isn’t something exactly available to the general public. 

They stealthily climb up the stairs, stepping on the tips of their toes, making as little noise as possible. Reaching the upper level, there are more chairs and tables along the bookshelves. The genres labeled on the shelves are about as common as one could expect. 

Graphic Novels. 

Fantasy. 

Horror. 

Science Fiction. 

Young Adult Fiction. 

Why would this figure go through all the trouble of breaking in only to see these all too common genres? 

But as they are quickly skimming through each book title in each genre, one clearly stands out and doesn’t fit in with the others labelled on the shelves. 

Nordic Landscapes.

“Now why would a puto nature book be in the fiction section of this place?” 

It was subtle enough, but it took a keen eye to see that it didn’t fit with all the rest. They pull out the book, quickly flipping through the pages, each filled with beautiful photographs of the Nordic environment. Tall dark mountains. Wide fields of green. Vast amounts of forest, lined with cold snow. But nothing special came of the pages. Just pretty pictures. They put the book down, taking a deep breath. 

“Puta mierda….there’s a reason why you’re here and not the rest of your friends. I passed the nature books coming in here. What are you hiding?....”

They look at its cover, the spine. There was nothing particular about it, but then they look at where they pulled it from. From the shelf it was on, in the far back, there was something there. A hidden compartment. They quickly put their hand on the back of the shelf, pressing whatever hidden indentations or switches they can. And then…

Click.

The back of the shelf opened up, the hidden compartment small and pitch black. All they could do is pull their arm into the small space and feel around. Their fingers wrap around something small….cold…..metal. But just as they get a hold of whatever it was…

WHOOSH!

They quickly pull their arm out of the compartment and dodge whatever was thrown at them. They look to their right and see it. A knife, deeply embedded into a copy of Twilight just where their head was. 

“Mierda-”

They quickly looked in front of them, and there was the owner of the knife. A tall man with a beard and his dark hair tied back into a bun, wearing a godawful wolf shirt that looked as though he got it straight out of a dumpster and a grey zip-up sweatshirt. His expression read calm, but there was something in those dark eyes of his. Nonetheless, a knife wouldn’t be enough to faze the intruder. 

“Oh sorry. Ya want your knife back, cabron?”, the figure playfully remarked. 

Again, nothing from the man. 

They look at the man, with the same curiosity that a cat has with another animal. As they slowly stood up straight, the man watched them carefully, reading their moves.

“Ok, listen here, pendejo. I’m kinda in a bit of a hurry, so would you be so kind as to just let me outta here? We really don’t have to make a huge thing out of this-” 

Before the intruder could finish their sentence, the man threw another knife at near light speed at them again. But this time they didn’t bother to try to dodge the knife, but at the same speed as the man threw the knife, they twisted their body slightly and caught it within a hair’s inch to their eye. Although it didn’t show, the man was somewhat impressed by this, but still remained stone-faced. 

“Oh, ok I see. Well just know, I’m not gonna make it easy for ya, lobo” , the figure mocked, taking a stance, pointing the knife the man threw at them at him, with a wide grin on their face. 

…….

He wasn’t sure how this person got in, but the fact that they were specifically looking in there was enough to confront them. Basim had been resting just five minutes earlier, but apparently Alethia felt that something was amiss in the shop. Although Anna had said that it could be an animal just hanging around the front cameras for too long, he decided to go down and check himself. Seems that Alethia was correct in suspecting something. 

Despite the darkness of the shop, the light of the Sturgeon full moon, he was able to see the intruder’s face. They appeared to be a young woman with deep tan skin and short black hair. She was dressed in a black bomber jacket and a light beige tank top, with olive pants. Her arm was in the hidden compartment, too close to getting what was in the space. Just as quickly he had gotten there, he quickly threw a knife to where her head was. But just as quickly as he threw it, the woman just as quickly dodged it and it dug deep into a book that looked like a tacky young lovers novel. 

Damn, Anna won’t be pleased, Basim thought to himself seeing that knife in the spine of the book. 

But he quickly shook the thought off, as he made eye contact with the young woman. She didn’t appear frightened by either the knife or his presence. But rather seemed to enjoy the situation. 

She made a couple of taunts at him, not that they were really something intimidating to begin with. As she made a terrible excuse for a negotiation, Basim decided to quickly end his misery and threw another knife, hoping this one would make its mark. But to his surprise, not only did the woman not dodge it, but she caught it. 

As she caught the knife, she looked at him with a wide grin on her face, almost ready to pounce at him. 

“Oh, ok I see. Well just know, I’m not gonna make it easy for ya, lobo.” 

Just as she finishes her sentence, not even looking behind her, the woman reaches for the knife that was embedded into the book and throws it at him full force. It was surprising, but nothing he wasn’t prepared for. 

At least I’ll be getting that knife back, he thought as he quickly dodged the knife-lodged book and moved to pull it out. As he managed to dig the knife out of the book’s spine, the woman was now trying to escape the shop, jumping from the upper level to the lower floor. 

With that, he gave chase. 

…..

Just fucking great. Now I gotta deal with this Walmart Jacob Black person? 

The intruder was now trying to get out of the shop, with the man now right behind them. Just as they were within a couple of feet of the front door, a chair was thrown, blocking their way to the door. They quickly look behind to see the man again. 

Ohhh...I get it. Well be careful what you wish for, Discount Ardeth Bay.

...

They slowly move about, looking at the man, reading his movements and the environment around them. Neither of them are willing to let the other out of their sight. The intruder quickly closes the space between them, baring the knife that had been thrown at them earlier. The man quickly side steps  out of the way, jumping over a nearby table.

By the time the intruder was able to run over to where the man leapt over the table, he was nowhere to be found. They quickly looked around, to the left, right. He seemed to have disappeared out of thin air, but just as quickly as the man had gone, they heard a slight creak from above. He leapt on them, an attempt to quickly immobilize them to the ground. They just as quickly flipped onto the table, and in a swift movement, kicked the table up and into the man. Once again, just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. But the intruder was able to retrace where he had been, and anticipated when he would strike next. 

They kept their eyes peeled, only the gaze of the moon outside bringing its light into the shop. As they shift their weight, slowly observing around them, they hear it. The man was quietly sneaking behind them, knife in hand. Just as he was going to pounce, knife to their throat, they spun and dropped, bringing with them the full force of their fist to his chest. He saw in that second he wouldn’t be able to escape it and prepared himself to take the blow. Once their fist had landed its target, it knocked him off his feet for a few seconds. 

OOMPH

As he regained his composure, he quickly saw that the intruder wasn’t going to let up on him and continue her attack on him, throwing both fists at him. He quickly dodged each one, once again brandishing his knife and making quick strikes at them, with them being just as quick to dodging each swipe of the knife as well. Basim knew he needed to get some distance between them, as any more hits from the intruder could lead to his downfall. He swiftly pushes them away from him, opening the distance between them. But just as he does, the intruder does something surprising: They actually take some of the furniture and start throwing it at him. From the chairs to the books. 

Well, if that’s how they want to play… He thought to himself, quickly dodging each object thrown at him, while also taking some objects as well and throwing it at them as well. 

Just as he throws a rather thick book at them, the intruder moves swiftly and again closes the distance between them again. This time, not only baring their fists, but also some powerful kicks. A rapid roundhouse to his right side brings him to his knees, a very strong kick. While he gets his bearings together, they continue to throw punch after punch and kick after kick at him. Basim was able to move out of the way for some of the blows, the ones that landed on him slowed him immensely. But he also noted that they were also growing tired from the brigade of attacks that they were throwing at him. This was his chance. As they twisted their body, and prepared to throw another blow his way, he feigned defeat. And just as they again met their fist with his torso, they were met with a knife to their throat. A smirk grew on his face as he saw the irritation on the intruders. 

“Looks like I won.” He declared, keeping a firm grip on the knife. 

But just as quickly as he stated that, he felt the all familiar poke to his side. The other knife he threw at them earlier. He had gotten it back. Somehow, they must’ve swiped it from him during their close encounters. 

Damn.

His smirk faded, and one formed on their face as well. 

“Maybe you should check yourself before making any bold statements, pendejo.” They said, digging the knife into his side, just mere inches from being plunged into him. 

Neither willing to let up on their grips. It was a stand still, with only the moonlight from outside shining on the both of them. Then suddenly, the light in the shop switched on. 

“What is going on here?!”

A woman’s voice echoed out from the top of the second level of the shop. Both Basim and the intruder looked over, still with a tight grip on their knives to each other, to where the voice came from. There, on the top of the stairs, a woman with short brown hair stood. She had on a light brown blouse, with a medium length mocha skirt and a pair of black ankle boots. Her round glasses almost encased her vivid green eyes, both of which looked down at the both of them with disapproval. The intruder looked at her with a rather curious fascination. 

“Oh? Well, hello there~” The intruder said, with a flirtatious tone to their voice. 

Before Basim could react, they delivered a powerful knee right to his crotch. One that immediately brought him to the ground, dropping his knife in the process. They slowly walked over to the railing of the stairs, pocketing the knife that was just at Basim’s side, taking in the woman up on the upper level. She, on the other hand, was quite taken aback by what was going on. 

“No one told me that someone as fetching as you would be here. Vaya, señorita. And who might you be?~” They said, leaning back on the railing. 

The woman, although quite shocked at the scene unfolding in front of her, decided to respond. 

“My name is Anna Kastello...and this is my bookshop. And that man that you so rudely kneed behind you is Basim.” She said, motioning to the man who was lying on the floor, trying to recover from the vigorous blow earlier. 

The intruder looked behind at him, shrugged and looked back up at Anna. 

“Well, my deepest apologies, Miss Anna. As for him, he’ll be fine...just needs to ice that area for the next 48 hours. And since you’ve given me the pleasure of your name, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Mari.” 

Anna looked down at them, still quite taken from how this night was going. And how forthcoming the intruder- Mari- was being. Given how late it was, and the mess in her shop, Anna decided that she was going to humor them, and get to the bottom of why they broke in to begin with. 

“Please explain to me...why is it that you’re here...Mari?” 

“Oh? Well allow to say, as much as I’m enticed by you, querida, I’m not stupid. I’m quite aware of what exactly this shop stands for...and I believe you do as well. This...malparido behind me is living evidence of what actually goes on here.” Mari uttered, motioning to Basim in the back, who was now slowly getting up and using the fallen table aside to hold him up. A playful expression on their face. 

Anna was shocked to hear that this random individual knew of what went on in the shop, and even knew what role Basim played into it. She couldn’t deny it, but as much as she was afraid, she was also calm. If this Mari person here was truly an enemy of theirs and wanted to harm them, they would’ve gone to Abstergo or worse and brought the full force of the corporation down on the shop. But they didn’t. Although they did give Basim quite a beating, seeing their face and how they’ve taken in the situation, Anna suspected that they weren’t there on behalf of anyone. She was going to find out. 

“I won’t deny what we’re doing here. It is what you’ve said. But judging from your expressions, despite the absolute mess you’ve both made here, I believe that you’re not here to do anyone’s bidding. But rather, there’s something you want to know. And I want to know what that is. That is...on one condition…” Anna stated, making her stance firm and clear. 

Mari, tilting their head in curiosity, was entranced by what Anna was saying, and willing to go along with what she was saying. 

“And that may be, querida?” 

“...Pick up this mess...I have to open up in several hours and I’d rather not close up just to clean up.” She said, slowly turning around and walking to the back of the shop. 

Mari couldn’t have been more thrilled. 

“With pleasure!” 

Anna, as she walked to the back, rubbed her temples slightly. This was going to be a long night.

...to be continued...

[gleefuldarrencrissfan]

Chapter 2

 Sex in the garage happened shortly after they finished putting on the rims.  Actually, it was surprising that they finished putting them on.  It was incredibly hot, but it didn’t include what Blaine had initially thought it would, and that was ok.  As they lay post-coital in the back seat of Blaine’s Prius, Kurt gently kissed Blaine’s forehead.

“So,” Kurt bit his bottom lip tentatively.  “Are you disappointed?”

“In what?  The rims?”

“In me.  In what we just did?”

Blaine just stared at Kurt in disbelief.  “What?  No.  Kurt, you just bent me over my car and dominated me.  I’ve never cum so hard in my life.  I could never be disappointed in our sex life.  You’re amazing.  What we do is amazing,” Blaine said, kissing Kurt’s lips tenderly.

“But we didn’t do the rimming thing.  Wasn’t that your fantasy?”  Kurt dropped his gaze down so that he couldn’t see the disappointment in Blaine’s eyes.

“You’re my fantasy, Kurt.  Anything we do together, intimately, is what I dream of.  Do I still want to try it one day?  Hell yes.  But there isn’t much I wouldn’t try if you asked me to. But we have the rest of our lives for that.  Besides, prep and cleanliness are essential, and right now we are filthy,” Blaine chuckled, sliding a finger through the sticky mess on his abdomen.

“Then, I want to try it.  Some day.  In the near future.  When we have time.  Definitely not in the garage,” Kurt giggled a little as Blaine’s fingers moved to his stomach, his fingers dancing in the mess they’d created there.  “When did you say your parents were going on that weekend trip?

Blaine swallowed his breath.  “Next weekend.  “But Kurt, there’s no rush.  No pressure.”

“Boo,  I thought pressure might feel kinda good,” Kurt said mischievously.  

The next thing he knew, he was flipped onto his back, his boyfriend sitting in between his legs, coating lube onto his fingers. “Good, because you’re about to feel some,” Blaine said, sliding a finger into Kurt’s slick heat.

Blaine had been insatiable that week.  It was only Wednesday, and Kurt was exhausted. He took a sip of strong coffee as he scrolled through the article that he had been too timid to read earlier in the week.  

He felt his cheeks grow dark red as he read tip two.  Douching?  Yes, he knew it was imperative that he be clean before they attempted this, but THAT seemed a little excessive.  Then again, Blaine was going to put his tongue there, so maybe it really wasn’t that extreme.  

Speaking of extreme, tip number fourteen was going to be a little awkward.  Shaving,  and the article suggested getting your partner to do it for you.  How was he going to bring that up in conversation?  “Hey baby.  I need you to shave my butthole so you don’t end up flossing while you’re down there.”  Kurt’s cheeks flamed red, and this was only an imaginary conversation.  

He could wax.  Actually, the article recommended it. He had waxed before.  He had done his eyebrows and even manscaped his balls, but he’d never ventured that far back.  That was something they’d have to talk about because if he was going to do this, he didn’t want to embarrass himself.  And he’d have to order the wax because he was out.  

He moved to the tip about lube.  It suggested water-based, natural lubes.  It had suggested flavored lube as well.  They had tried flavored lube before, but Kurt didn’t particularly like that raspberry flavor.  And he wasn’t sure that it was all-natural.  

Then, there was the issue of protection.  There were quite a few risks.  Anal play, in general, had its risks, but the risks involved here were greater.  He and Blaine had only been with each other, so the risk of STD wasn’t really an issue, but there were other things, like infections and bacteria.  They could use tongue condoms, but where the hell would he find things like that.  

He needed a lot of supplies.  He could order the products online, but then he thought about what might happen if someone else opened the package.  What if Finn or his dad opened it?  Or Carole?  God no.  There was no way he was getting that stuff shipped to his house.  

Kurt sighed.  He knew what he needed to do.  He needed to go to a sex shop.   Kurt typed in location of sex shops and found more than one nearby, although he wasn’t sure that he wanted to go to a local one.  For all he knew, he’d walk in and the person behind the counter could be a customer at his dad’s shop.  Nope.  No good. He couldn’t go to one in Westerville either.  He’d be mortified if he ran into a Warbler or something while he was there.  They probably would know Blaine. Or worse.  They could know Blaine’s parents.  Nope.  

He soon found himself overwhelmed by the search results.  He needed advice.  He’d hate to drive an hour out of the way just to be unable to find what he was needing.  But who should he ask?  Puck might know a place, but he wasn’t discreet in the least.  And there was no way in hell he’d ask Finn.  He’d blab to Rachel or worse, to his dad or Carole.  He could ask Sam, the former stripper, but he was also living with him right now, and he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.  Mike was nice enough, but they weren’t close enough to go to a sex shop, and Mercedes would be mortified.  There was only one person to ask.

“Damn, Ladylips!  I didn’t know you had it in you!  But you know that you can get lube in a drug store, right?  Of course you did.  So, this isn’t about lube.  You want some kinky shit, right?”

“God, Santana.  What I buy here is none of your business.  I told you I’d pay for gas and your lunch, but you have to uphold your end of the bargain.  This never leaves the Navigator or I will enact my revenge on you until one of us dies.  And you know I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, Rachel told us about how you replaced Finn’s axe body spray with spray adhesive.    The whole Glee club thanks you for gluing his armpits shuts.  I could actually breathe in the auditorium for half an hour without gagging.  But anyway, you know I wouldn’t say anything.

Kurt raised his eyebrows in disbelief.  “I do?”

“Look, I know I can be a bitch, but us gays gotta look out for each other.  I appreciate the way you and Blaine stood up for me when I got outed, and I know that you too tried to help Britt pass her Lit class.  Besides, Britt’s birthday is coming up, and I’d like to get her a dil-”

Kurt held up his hand. “Stop!  I don’t want to hear it or I will replace your protein supplement with a laxative.”

“Fine. But you’ve got one hour.  After that, I reserve the right to take photos and post them on your Facebook wall.  Using your anniversary as your password is way too damn predictable.”  Kurt shot her his bitch glare and walked through the entryway. “Wait, do you have an ID?  This place is 18+ only.  

Kurt pulled his fake id out of his wallet.  The one that he had made and not the pathetic one Sebastian had made for him.

“Well, I’ll be damned.  Somebody’s either been hitting gay clubs or he’s been to one of these places before.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.  If only she knew the exact reason that he was here.  She tried to get it out of him on the way here, but he just said something about all natural lube and then turned up the radio and threatened to sing show tunes the whole way if she didn’t drop it.  

Surprisingly, the store was as good as Santana promised, and he left with a Persian waxing kit, a water-based lube sampler with 3 flavors, and tongue condoms.  He also purchased a home enema kit from CVS when they stopped in there, using moisturizer as an excuse to stop.  They made it halfway home when he had to stop for fuel.  Santana remained in the car, distracted by what was in her bag.  Then, he realized it wasn’t her bag.

“Santana, what the hell?”

“So, what do we have here?  Brazilian wax?  Tongue condoms?  Flavored lube?  An ass-irrigation system?  Someone’s gonna eat ass!” Santana practically squealed. “Oh my God!  I can’t wait to try out my new name for Blaine, assmunch.”

“Why don’t you say that a little louder.  I don’t believe the attendant in the back heard you.  And if you even think of calling Blaine that, I’ll make sure that everyone finds out about the time that I helped you get that stain out of your uniform.  You know, that brown one right on the back of-”

“Ok, ok.  Fine.  I’ll come up with something else.  Get it?  Come up?  Oh, come on and get the stick out of your ass so Plasterhead can stick his tongue up it,” Santana cackled, throwing the bag back to him.  

“God, why did I ask you?” Kurt sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Because you knew I could actually answer your questions.  So go ahead.  Ask me.  Is it awesome?  Yes.  Is it as awkward as hell?  Yes.  If it’s not with someone special.”

Kurt sighed and looked straight out the window.  “Have you ever, um, tasted something gross?”

“Yeah, but I gave Puck a blowjob and that was worse than anything else I’d ever tried.  I don’t know how Quinn stands it.  The sweat.  The hair?  The gas.  Disgusting!  Much worse than anything else I encountered.  I upchucked for a week afterward.  Sue was happy.  I was down two pounds that week.”

“What about flatulence?  I guess I’m worried that I’m gonna-”

“Fart in his mouth?  Yeah, I’m not gonna lie.  It’s awkward.  But that’s what the tongue condoms are for.  I used them before.  I don’t anymore because it just feels better.  I guess the important thing is just to talk about it, up front.  Beforehand.  Talk about what you do and don’t want. Don’t eat anything that causes gas, I mean besides his ass,” she grinned.  “And no teeth.  That shit,” Santana looked away, actually appearing embarrassed for a moment.  “I mean, that stuff hurts.  But Kurt,” Santana grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Ha, butt!  Anyway. There’s nothing like it.  To make someone fall apart that way, to be so intimate.  It’s amazing.”

“Thanks, Santa,” Kurt smiled.  “I knew you were the right person to take with me today.”

Santana just nodded.  “Just one question.  Was this your idea?  Or his.  Because if it was yours, I win a bet I had going with Puck.”

“What?  You told Puck?”  Kurt’s head whipped around and he even swerved a little over the white line on the highway.  

“No.  I didn’t tell him.  But we have talked about it after seeing you and Shortstack limp into glee after prom.  He bet that you two were vanilla, spooning and all that shit, but I surmised that you, with all your sass and need to be in control, said you were probably one kinky S. O B.  Was I right?”

“It was Blaine’s suggestion.  It’s actually a funny story, but it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Santana cackled.  “Em bare assed.  I get it.  But seriously, Kurt.  I just saw your bag with an enema kit in it.  I had it in my hands.  And I told you that Britt farted in my mouth.  How much more embarrassing can this conversation get?”

[rhysismydaddy]

Bad Boys of Persia: Part 2

Here’s part 2 of the Feysand/Elreriel/Nessian Persian Fic! It’s a pretty short chapter, but the next one is going to be long.

If you want to read the first part, it’s here.

Part 3 is here!

Masterlist

The plot is starting to thicken, but shit really hits the fan next chapter, so stay tuned!

As always, thank you for reading, and feel free to send me questions/prompts.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters... or the line I copied ;)

________________________________________________________________

The sun, that gods damned sun, beat down on Feyre as she pushed her way through the crowds of people outside the hotel. She already regretted leaving her bed; it was hot and sticky and crowded. 

But she was already here, so she forced herself to keep going. The man she’d talked to had told her to get salix alba, a traditional Persian healing herb. 

She passed by a few clothing stores, eyes skimming colorful saris and hijabs, before coming to a stop in front of a plant store that looked to have herbs and medicines.

Feyre pushed the door open, inhaling the strong scent of incense and mint, and asked the man behind the counter for her herb. He laughed soundly as she showed him her burnt skin, then gave her a small bottle of yellow lotion. 

“Put this on twice a day; it should help,” he said, still smiling.

“Should?”

He started chuckling yet again. “I’ve never had to use it, moon face.”

She laughed at herself before sliding some money over the counter. The vender shook his head and pushed it back. “Just take it. No one else around here needs it.”

Feyre smiled and thanked him, then left the shop, obscenely proud of herself for getting what she needed. 

Feyre stood outside the store, debating her options: she could go home and lay in bed, or push herself some more and go get groceries. She decided to go with option two, just so she wouldn’t have to bother with room service anymore. 

Even though she begrudged her sisters for forcing her to come, Feyre had to admit it was beautiful here. Especially the architecture. The old buildings were the color of the sand around them, all finely made and having details hand carved into the tops. Some even had guardian figures leaning over the edges of the roofs.

She walked down the street, thankful the sun had started to set. When she came to an open produce market in a large alley between two streets, she paused. 

Stands and stands of bright fruits and vegetables were covered by an awning of blowing fabric tied to the roofs of the buildings next to the market, giving the place shade from the sun. She started to scan the isles, passing by people selling produce she’d never even heard of. 

“How much?” she asked a kind, young woman selling loaves of bread. 

She just tilted her head. 

Feyre gave her what she thought would be the right amount and took two loaves. The woman gasped, then quickly gave her half of it back. 

Fighting the embarrassment off her face, Feyre smiled and took the change, then quickly walked away. Another reason she begrudged her sisters right now: they hadn’t given her any time to learn about the Persian language or currency, so she was bound to look stupid wherever she went.

Her mood a little less excited, Feyre continued to walk past different stands, pausing when she wanted to buy something. When her bag started to get heavy, Feyre decided to walk back to the hotel. She was sweaty and sticky and desperately wanted a shower.

She abruptly turned around, then cursed when she smacked into the person walking behind her. 

“Sorry, I-”

He kept walking, completely unfazed by Feyre’s antics. She couldn’t see his face--the hood of his loose, dark shirt was pulled over his head--but there was something about him... something dangerous. 

Feyre moved out of the middle of the aisle, but couldn’t force her eyes off of him. He walked with the grace and power of someone used to running... maybe he was an athlete? 

He stopped at the bread stand Feyre had just been at, head stooping to say something in the vender’s ear. The woman threw her head back and laughed, a light blush coming to dust her cheeks.

Feyre was frozen in place, watching him flirt and charm the woman. 

She looked at his face and smiled warmly, then said something and nodded to the customers waiting in front of her stand. 

The stranger leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. The people waiting looked away, eyes lifting to the cloth covering the market. 

But Feyre couldn’t look away. 

Because what everyone failed to notice, what everyone had been too preoccupied to see, was that the man wasn’t after just getting a kiss. He was after the food. 

As soon as the woman had closed her eyes, everyone looking away, he’d slipped two loaves of bread under his shirt. It was so fast and casual, Feyre wondered if she’d imagined it. 

He said goodbye to the vender, then began to walk out of the market. Feyre didn’t know why her feet followed after him, didn’t know why she was so drawn to a complete stranger. 

He slipped behind an empty stand, then gripped the ladder leading to the roof, and, before anyone could notice, climbed up, disappearing under the cloth  covering the market. 

She was desperate to see where he was going, but there was no chance in hell Feyre would be able to pull herself up, so she walked on the street, keeping him in her peripheral. 

She was well aware that she was being crazy, but she found herself unable to stop. Remembering what she’d seen on TV, Feyre tried to blend into the crowds and even stopped occasionally so he wouldn’t notice her. 

She walked on the street below him, marveling at how he sauntered on the roofs above. Feyre guessed he’d been stealing his whole life. How else could someone have such confidence? She’d only stolen one thing--a lollipop from the grocery store near her house when she was four--and it had made Feyre so nervous she’d started to cry.

For him to have such grace, even after committing a crime, made Feyre anxious about following him any further. She forced herself to question why she was even going after him. 

Was it because she wanted to confront him about his thievery? Maybe, but Feyre wasn’t usually that bold.

Was it because she was always drawn to troubled souls? Maybe, but he didn’t seem to be troubled about what he had done.

Was it because of the way the bread vender had giggled and blushed at his words, looking young and beautiful and happy, and Feyre hadn’t felt like that since-

Shit, where did he go? 

Cursing herself for getting lost in her thoughts, Feyre rushed down a narrow alley, scanning the rooftops above her for his figure. 

It was dark now, and it was getting hard to see, but she thought she saw something off in the distance-

Someone gripped Feyre’s arms and pushed her roughly against the side of the buildings. She started to scream, but a heavy hand slapped over her mouth. She raised her fists and hit his waist, but he didn’t release his grip.

She was determined to not stop fighting, to never let him win easily, so she tried to hit him again. He grabbed her hand, reflexes fast as a cat, and pinned it against the wall above her head. 

Realizing she was completely trapped, no one around to even see, Feyre looked up into the face of her attacker with pleading eyes. 

And froze. 

He was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen.

He had harsh, high cheekbones, hair the color of the night sky, broad shoulders, and the most beautiful eyes, so dark blue they looked violet. 

He looked classic, exotic, and devastatingly handsome. Like he’d been carved by the gods. 

The only thing not gorgeous about him was the completely pissed expression on his face. 

“Why are you following me, girl?” 

________________________________________________________________

Nesta’s eyes snapped open, and she immediately took in her surroundings. She was in a small room, handcuffed to a smaller bed, completely naked. 

Awesome.

And she wasn’t alone.

The man that had followed and taken her was sitting in a metal chair in the corner. Asleep.

Nesta picked up a dirty pillow off the bed and flung it at him as hard as she could. “Wake up, asshole.”

His hand shot up and caught the pillow inches from his face, eyes still shut. “I’m awake, bitch.”

She rolled her eyes, then shook her hand excessively, rattling the handcuffs. “Take these off.”

“Say please.” 

Nesta debated ripping the headboard off and beating him to death with it instead, but figured she needed to keep her cover for a little while longer. “Please,” she said sweetly.

“No.”

She saw red. Calm down, Nesta, you can kill him later. “You’re a real fucking prick, you know that, right?”

He just shrugged,  not even deigning to open his eyes. 

“Where am I?”

He finally looked at her, those golden orbs boring into her with deadly seriousness. “Don’t worry, they can still track you,” he said bitterly before closing his eyes again.

Every thought, every word flew out of Nesta’s head at his words. She forced herself to not glance down at her heel, to the only thing that was telling her team she was alive. 

How the hell had he found it? What did he mean they could still track her? Was it still active?

She was about to start asking him questions when the door handle jangled, the sound wrecking her train of thought. Someone on the other side fumbled with the lock.

The stranger in the corner muttered fuck under his breath then jumped to his feet and flung his shirt off. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

He gave her a serious look. “Shut up. Don’t say a word. Don’t make eye contact. I’m serious, Nesta.”

How did he know her name? What was going on?

He took the sheet and flung it over her, then sat on the bed, too close for comfort, and ran his hands through his hair, muffling the curly locks. Before she could object, he muffled hers, too, then had the audacity to pinch her cheeks lightly.

She swatted his hands away.

He ignored her completely, then leaned back against the headboard next to her and gave her a warning look. Nesta rolled her eyes, but forced them down at her lap. 

He leaned in, close enough to share air, and she thought he was about to kiss her when the door finally swung open.

She heard someone step inside, felt someone’s eyes on her.

Felt someone’s eyes on their rumpled sheets, undressed situation, and messy hair.

The stranger said, “My turn. Get out.”

The man sitting next to her immediately was on his feet. He grabbed the intruder by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “Give me another order, Farshid.”

The sound of someone spitting filled the room, but the man listened, shoving him away and slamming the door. 

When Nesta looked up again, she was alone with her captor. Who was noticeably still shirtless.

Good gods, he looked like he ate small children for breakfast. He was tall, with long hair, massive arms, and broad shoulders. By anyone’s standards, he was gorgeous. 

He noticed her eyes, grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it over his head, then dropped back into his chair. 

“Um, explain, please,” Nesta said, trying to fight the bitterness in her voice.

He sighed, then propped his head against the wall. “What would you like to know?”

“For starters, how do you know my name?”

“We have facial recognition software,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okay, but how do you know my real name?” The CIA had built a fool-proof cover for her. According to her record, her name was Sally Jones. 

He gave her a cocky grin. “Sorry, Sally, but the CIA has always been shit at giving their operatives covers.” 

Nesta felt her face pale. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“Oh, cut the shit. Your name is Nesta Archeron, you’re twenty-eight, and you’ve been with the CIA Division of Middle Eastern Operations since they recruited you at eighteen.”

How did he know all this? This wouldn’t come up with the best facial recognition software in the world, let alone whatever they had here. Unless...

“Who do you work for?” she asked.

He looked annoyed. “Mossad. I’ve been deep undercover for the past ten months. And the last thing I need right now is to have to deal with the CIA thinking they need to barge in here and control my op.”

Mossad. At least it made sense why he’d left her tracker. 

“Wait a second,” she sat up a little higher. “You’ve been here for ten months and you haven’t taken them down?”

He rolled his eyes. “Such a typical American. I don’t want to take down this ring. I want to take down their entire operation.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“They’re called the Shahmaran. They’re a human trafficking circle running throughout all of Persia. Their Suza op is just a small piece of a bigger pie. They’re responsible for the abduction of over three hundred girls. I’ve been trying to get to the management side of things to see who’s really calling the shots.”

Holy hell, three hundred girls? This was so much bigger than Alis had told her. 

“Why haven’t you?” she asked. 

He gave her a look. “They don’t exactly take applications. Most of the guys here were born into the business; their families have controlled the Shahmaran for years.”

“Okay, then new plan. We take out the people here, and then the bosses come in to see why all their employees are dead,” she said happily. 

He shook his head. “I’m not about to waste my entire operation to take out thirty guys. Even though they deserve it.”

“Then what’s your bright idea, genius?”

He grinned. “You.”

Nesta raised her eyebrows. “Me?”

“You. Since you barged into my op, you might as well make yourself useful.” He ignored her look. “Every year, the Shahmaran hold an auction of sorts. Each branch, from all around Persia, brings a girl in for the boss. Whichever group’s girl he chooses gets a shitload of money and basically get to do whatever they want for a year until the next auction.”

He continued, “I have a lot of sway here with this group. They’ve never won before, and they’re desperate for the money, so they really need the win. And I get to choose who we’re sending.”

He wasn’t actually talking about-

“We’re going to sell you, Nesta. And you’re going to win.”

________________________________________________________________

Elain paced back and forth in her hotel room.

Feyre still wasn’t back. Her first day out and she stays gone the entire day and well into the evening? She wasn’t answering her phone, and Elain couldn’t stop thinking about what might’ve happened to her. Why did I leave her alone?

And she still didn’t know what to do about the woman at Morrigan. She wouldn’t leave without knowing she was okay and getting her away from that horrible man. 

So she paced. 

Calm down, Lainey, she told herself, using the nickname her father had given her when she was little.

I’m sure Feyre is just eating dinner somewhere. She’ll be back soon. 

And for the waitress with that horrible, jagged wound... an idea sparked in her head that had Elain grabbing her bag and running out of her room.

She didn’t bother with pleasantries as she went up to the reception desk.

“How do I get to the police station?” 

The man behind the counter jumped, then looked at her with concerned eyes.  

“Are you alright?” 

His question pressed against Elain’s already-frayed nerves. “No, I am not alright. Hence the need for the police.”

He quickly pulled a map out and drew her a path to the station. Elain snatched it and was out the door before he could say anything else.

She followed the path he’d drawn her to a run-down building, the Persian word for Police written in half-crumbling paint on top of the place. After pushing the door open, she went up to the closest officer she could find. “Hi, can you help me?” she asked, hoping he spoke English.

“What do you need, American?”

“I saw someone who was hurt, and-”

He brushed past her in annoyance. “Try a hospital.”

Elain grabbed his arm, shaking her head. “No, but she was hurt by someone. Isn’t that part your job? Please help.”

The officer sighed. “Who was hurt?”

Elain stopped. “Um, I don’t know her name, but she works at Morrigan-”

“Shit,” he muttered, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “You need to leave. Right now.”

“No, but you’re not listening, she could be in trouble-”

“Oh, she is. But I will be too if you don’t shut up. Now get out,” he strode off, not letting her say anything else.

Elain stood in the lobby of the station, dumbfounded. What the hell? How could someone be so heartless? 

She flung the door open and ran outside, helpless tears forming in her eyes. The woman needed medical attention, but that prick probably wouldn’t let her out of his sight, let alone go to a hospital. 

His words from yesterday played through her head, and soon Elain was mad enough that she was stomping her way back to Morrigan, a murky plan forming in her head. 

Twenty minutes later, she pushed her way into Morrigan, ignoring the servers questioning looks as she strode to the back of the restaurant and pounded on the door. 

The door swung open, revealing the severely-pissed looking owner. “I told you to not come back.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you want,” she hissed, pushing past him and coming into the office. 

Elain was ready to give him the verbal smack down of the century, but paused mid-stride when she saw the server, soundly asleep on a sofa.

She was shirtless, a bandage covering almost her entire abdomen. A little color had returned to her face, and she looked immensely better than she had just yesterday. The owner walked over and draped a blanket over her softly.

“You... you took care of her?” Elain asked, suddenly feeling ridiculous.

He gave her a look. “Of course I did.”

Elain forced herself to remember that he was the reason she needed taking care of in the first place. “Well, it doesn’t matter. The police will be here soon.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You told the police?”

Elain nodded, hoping he’d get scared enough to not call her bluff. She just needed to get the woman out and away from him and take her to a hospital.

“Mmhm, and what exactly did they say?” 

Was he... grinning? What the hell?

“Ask them yourself. They’ll be here in a few minutes.” She forced her voice to stay steady. She’d always been a terrible liar.

“May I ask why you care about a total stranger this much?”

Elain bristled at his cool tone. “Because what you did to her is wrong and you deserve to be punished.”

“And you’re certain this was my doing because...” he trailed off, motioning for her to finish.

She started to doubt herself. “Because you didn’t want to take her to the hospital or inform the authorities-”

“Yes, because look at the lot of good it did you.” Elain wanted to punch that smug look off his face.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“The police aren’t coming. You can drop the act,” he said calmly, as if it were obvious.

“How do you know?”

He sighed, looking at the woman on the sofa with sad, pained eyes. “Because the man who did this to her is the Chief of Police.”

________________________________________________________________

Part 3 is here.

Thank you for reading! Updated with a new tag list (it didn’t work for some people)! Let me know in my box or the comments if you want to be added.

@sezkins79 @bookofmaas @graaaaceeliz @10divergentmockingjays  @azriels-forgotten-shadow @elide-lochan-salvaterre @facilisdescensusav3rno @wesupremeginger @mis-lil-red @rapunzel1523 @chemicha @illyrianbeauty @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @street-smarts-are-important @dreamerforever-5 @the-jin-to-my-tonic @lord-douglas-the-third

[imagine-organization-xiii]

So like, the organization members as my Little pony characters. Cuz idk, potatoes.

you guys give me legit heartburn

also, special shoutout to my bestie Timpini for helping me with some of these

oOoOo

Xemnas - Tempest Shadow - a female unicorn pony who appears as the secondary antagonist of My Little Pony The Movie. She has a broken horn and a scar on her right eye, and she is the former second-in-command of the Storm King.

Xigbar - Discord - Discord is the spirit of chaos and disharmony who once ruled over Equestria in a state of unrest and unhappiness, until she and Princess Luna used the Elements of Harmony to imprison him in stone. However, after the sisters lost their connection to the Elements, the spell was broken and Discord broke free.

Xaldin - Tirek - Lord Tirek is a male centaur, the older brother of Scorpan, and the main antagonist of the season four finale. He is a villain who escapes from Tartarus, steals magic, and seeks to rule over Equestria.

Vexen - Cheerilee - a teacher at the Ponyville Schoolhouse, explains to her students the purpose of cutie marks. She compassionately tells her class that her cutie mark symbolizes her care for each of her students, and her desire to help them learn and grow.

Lexaeus - Sweetie Belle - True to her name, Sweetie Belle is very kindhearted and innocent. Despite this, she is often mischievous, vain, naive, and impetuous.​  However, Sweetie Belle remains positive and well-meaning in times of crisis, especially if she is responsible.

Zexion - Fluttershy - a female Pegasus pony that lives in a small cottage near the Everfree Forest and takes care of animals, the most prominent of her charges being Angel the bunny. She represents the element of kindness.

Saix - Starlight Glimmer - a female unicorn pony and recurring character, initially an antagonist but later a protagonist. First appears in the season five premiere as the founder and leader of a mysterious village in which every resident has given up his or her cutie mark.

Axel - Applejack - She lives and works at Sweet Apple Acres with her grandmother Granny Smith, her older brother Big McIntosh, her younger sister Apple Bloom, and her dog Winona. She represents the element of honesty.

Demyx - Pinkie Pie - She is an energetic and sociable baker at Sugarcube Corner, where she lives on the second floor with her toothless pet alligator Gummy, and she represents the element of laughter. Pinkie writes and performs many songs, and she is the source of many of the show’s comical and cartoonish gags.

Luxord - Trixie - Trixie assumes a very theatrical personality and speaks dramatically in the third person, posing and setting off fireworks to complete the full effect Twilight Sparkle’s positive, helpful, and humble attitude is contrasted by Trixie’s over-the-top boasting and arrogant nature.

Marluxia - Rarity - Rarity works as both a fashion designer and as a seamstress at her own shop in Ponyville, the Carousel Boutique. She has a white Persian cat named Opalescence. She represents the element of generosity.

Larxene - Diamond Tiara - Most of Diamond Tiara’s appearances involve her making fun of others and acting superior and snobbish. She and Silver Spoon are classmates of the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

Roxas - Rainbow Dash - She maintains the weather and clears the skies in Ponyville.  Rainbow Dash has a pet tortoise named Tank, whom she chooses out of Fluttershy’s offered animals in the episode May the Best Pet Win! She represents the element of loyalty.

Xion - Twilight Sparkle - At the beginning of the series, she and Spike, her best friend and assistant, move from Canterlot to Golden Oak Library in Ponyville to study the magic of friendship, and in Twilight’s Kingdom - Part 2, she gains her own castle—the Castle of Friendship—and gains the title “Princess of Friendship.” Twilight Sparkle represents the element of magic.