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thomaslightwoodenthusiast · 5 years ago

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here is the second request!

love at first...body swap?

- in which a clueless magnus wakes up in the body of a tall, dark, and very handsome Shadowhunter, and a mystified alec wakes up in the body of a very, very glittery Warlock. who also happens to be very attractive.

[disclaimer: this describes show!malec, as alec has hazel eyes, but you can still read it as a book fan and imagine blue is there instead!]

requested by @ilostmymojo !

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Magnus had been on holiday in London for a week now. Well, it wasn’t exactly a holiday so much as he had some business to deal with, but he was enjoying the time anyway. He opened his eyes as he woke up-

To a black wall?

Magnus was confused. His hotel room was definitely not this dark. Then a string of dread ran through him. Had he gotten too drunk? Had he went home with someone and forgotten? He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, and almost did a double take.

There was black ink on his arms. Ink in the shape of Shadowhunter runes. Now, this really wasn’t funny. These runes were incredibly toxic to him- they should’ve killed him by now. There were so many. He rolled up the shirt he’d slept in.

A Parabatai rune on his left side.

He flicked the lights on and had possibly his third heart attack of the morning.

Now, Magnus was Indonesian. He was born there, to an Indonesian mother. His father was a goddamn Prince of Hell. So to put it simply, he was...not white. At all. But apparently he was now. The feeling suddenly hit him.

He’d been body swapped. And, god forgive him, he didn’t mind it one bit so far. Whoever this was? His body was...well, it was incredible. Magnus smirked to himself- was it himself?- and gave in to his desperate want to look in the mirror. Oddly though, there was only a very small bathroom mirror that looked like it was forced there. He must be kinda insecure, Magnus thought. He couldn’t understand why though. The face he was met with was beautiful. Soft brown hair, fluffing out across his forehead. A gorgeous sharp jawline. The most beautiful hazel eyes. There was a bolt of almost recognition sent through him. Had he seen this person before? He couldn’t get their name though.

Magnus got dressed- he was very upset with this Shadowhunter’s lack of fashion. His wardrobe was mostly black. And old sweaters. He decided to leave the room and see if he could figure out his name, or find even one person he recognised. He knew he was in the New York Institute, so he was hoping he’d see Clary.

“Hey big bro!”

Magnus spun around, terrified. He’d been caught by this man’s sister.

“Hey, sis!” he said, awkwardly but not without a smile.

“Mom wants you. She wanted to see how you’d settled in to your new position as Head!”

Oh god.

It was getting worse.

“Uh, sure. Where is she?”

“The library. I’m off to get breakfast first though, wanna come?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. He was starving. “One question- where’s Clary?”

The girl he was with raised an eyebrow. “What do you need her for?”

“I have to tell her something.”

“Why can’t you tell it to your sister, huh?”

“It’s...private,” he said. He must’ve blushed, because she had a sudden look of realisation on her face.

“Is it about her friend? That warlock? The one you totally have a massive crush on now even though you only saw him once for a split second at that party?”

Then it dawned on him why he recognised the person whose body he was in. A few weeks ago, Clary and her friends had come to one of his parties. As far as he remembered, this was Alec Lightwood, and the girl in front of him was Isabelle, his sister. He had no idea where the Herondale boy was though.

Isabelle’s statement was convenient enough. He now knew that not only was Alec gay, but he apparently had a little bit of a crush on him.

This was very pleasing information.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late, I slept in. Are you guys going to get breakfast?”

A short ginger girl had appeared. Clary.

“Bisc- I mean, uh, Clary? Can I talk to you in private for a second? It’s urgent,” he whispered. Clary looked slightly shocked- to be fair, he had almost called her Biscuit, and as far as she was concerned Alec didn’t know that.

“Sure,” she said with a questioning look on her face. He dragged her away before Isabelle could follow or make any more jokes.

“Hey, biscuit.”

“Why are you calling me that? Only Magnus calls me that. And you shouldn’t even know-“

“No wait! Clary. It is me. Magnus Bane. I don’t know what the hell happened. I was in London, and I woke up here in I think Alec Lightwood’s body?”

“Yes,” she replied slowly. “Yes, you’re Alec.”

“So from my understanding, the Head of your Institute is currently stranded in London in the body of an admittingly gorgeous and incredible Warlock with absolutely no idea how to use magic or how to get back?”

Clary put a hand to her forehead. “By the Angel Magnus. It’s nine am. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I don’t know, and I have to apparently go and talk to Alec’s mom in a minute and probably do other things too.”

“Okay. Look. I’ll help you out, okay? Do you know the number of the hotel you were staying at? The sooner we let Alec know what’s going on the better.”

“No- but my phone isn’t with me. I only have Alec’s. I know my own number- I could call it on his phone?”

Clary smiled. “Perfect. I imagine Alec won’t quite be as calm as you seem to be, though.”

“Honestly, being in this body? I wouldn’t be upset if I was permanently stuck this way. Alec is gorgeous.”

She giggled. “Oh my god. You know, everyone around here knows Alec has a huge crush on you. Everyone except him. He blushes any time we mention you, and when he starts talking about you he doesn’t stop. Like verbal diarrhoea, but cute.”

“Please never say ‘diarrhoea’ and ‘cute’ in the same sentence ever again.”

➰➰➰➰➰

Alec Lightwood woke to his phone ringing. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed for it. When he reached out for it, he noticed that his arm was incredibly tan- like the shade of gold, but slightly darker. Weird. He was white as hell. It had been quite warm yesterday though- maybe he’d tanned.

He noticed something odd about the number calling him. It was his. Confused, he answered it anyway.

“Hello?”

He got another shock- his voice didn’t at all sound like his own.

“Hi Alec. It’s Clary. I have someone who needs to talk to you.”

“Oh- okay.” Then, a man’s voice spoke. The man sounded exactly like him.

“Hello, Alexander. It’s- it’s Magnus Bane. You were at my party a few weeks ago?”

Alec felt himself blush immediately. He’d only saw Magnus briefly there, but he was insanely attractive. He’d been trying to figure out how to talk to him. “Yes, I was.”

“Well- I need you to go to the bathroom for me. Or wherever the nearest mirror is. And please don’t freak out.”

Confused, Alec got out of the bed. Weirdly enough, this was not his Institute room at all. The bed had pure white sheets, and the wall was gold. Then he found a mirror.

“What the hell?! I’m- am I you? I- what is this?!”

Alec stared at the mirror. He was reminded of just how attractive Magnus was. His spiked black hair, his lean and muscular body. The smooth skin on his face, and his beautiful slit cat eyes.

“We wanted to let you know that. And...you’re in London.”

“LONDON?! But I have an Institute to run! I can’t be stuck as a Warlock all day- no offense. But what am I going to do? Could I draw a Portal rune?”

Clary took the phone back for a second. “No- you’ve got to remember you’re Magnus right now. And I’m not entirely sure yet if other people can use my runes. Magnus says that, if you want, he could tell you over the phone how to do a Portal? Your only other option is to get a plane.”

Alec ran a frustrated hand through his- Magnus’s- hair. “I don’t know. I need to be back there ASAP though.”

Magnus took over again. “Hey, don’t panic. A Portal uses a lot of magic, but I don’t mind. Our priority is getting you back safe and quick. If you focus, you can do it. But it is very important that you imagine somewhere other than the Institute. We need to make this as discreet as possible. Put the phone in your pocket.”

Alec did so, taking a deep breath. He had no idea what he was going, but he could try.

“Now, focus. What you need to do will come to you- you shouldn’t have to try too hard to imagine it. Then get an image in your mind of somewhere in New York.”

He pictured Central Park. A sudden jolt went through his mind, and as if propelled to do so he snapped his arms and his fingers and was able to create a Portal.

“I did it! Should I go through now?”

“Yes! Well done! Go through, then once you’re through tell us where you are so Clary and I can get there.”

Alec stepped through the Portal. He’d done this many a time before. It should be easy.

Or not.

“Oh!-“

Of course, he’d Portaled himself in the middle of the lake. He grabbed the phone.

“I’m sorry! I’m in Central Park! I landed in a lake-“ and then the phone died. Water damage. Hopefully Magnus wouldn’t be too pissed- he remembered when he’d been angry at two of the men at Pandemonium and, well, it had been scary. And another word beginning with s and ending in y.

“Magnus?! What the hell are you doing?!”

Alec turned. A woman in a nurse uniform was staring at him with the most incredulous look on her face. “Uh. I just dropped my phone in the water.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. She was a pretty woman, a Warlock woman. He could tell because she’d been glamoured, but in her surprise the glamour disappeared to reveal her true skin colour- a beautiful sky blue. Her hair, mad curls, was a darker shade of blue too. “You’re insane, my friend. I freaking love you, but I would kill you if I could,” she said, smiling to herself whilst walking away. Alec waded out of the water. The phone wasn’t working, so he decided he’d be best off walking towards the entrance to the park.

In the distance Alec could see a bright crown of red hair bobbing towards him, alongside- well, Magnus, but technically himself. He met them in a more secluded corner- they were glamoured, but the more security the better.

Clary looked mystified when she saw him. “You know the weirdest thing about this? Even in Magnus’s body, I can still tell you’re Alec.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Clary shrugged and snickered. “Anyways. You guys don’t really need me anymore, do you? Bye!”

She dashed off quite quickly, and as she did so Alec noticed she took out her phone and called someone. She was laughing, and kept looking back at them.

“Well. So, uh, I know how to reverse this. But not on myself.”

Alec stopped for a moment. “Well then what can we do?”

“I’ll have to call a friend. Are you okay with that?”

“As long as they can get this fixed then sure.”

Magnus faked hurt. “Why are you so desperate to get out of my body? Am I truly that detestable?”

This made Alec worried, which was hilarious. “No! I just need to be back at work. You’re perfect!”

Magnus put two and two together. “Clary left us because she knows how we feel about each other, doesn’t she? Damn, smart kid.”

“How do we feel about each other?”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously that blind? Well for starters, you’re gorgeous as hell. I’ve known many Lightwoods over time, but you just, hit so different. I suppose I don’t know you that well, but I can tell you’re sweet too. You’re a family guy. I don’t know what that’s like. I mean, I have no blood relatives. I wish I did. But I respect that. You’re cool,” he finished, with a smile. There was a rose tint to the top of his cheeks, like a blush. It looked beautiful. When he blushed, it looked like a ghost had actually applied blusher to his face. When Alec blushed, he looked like a tomato.

“Well, thank you. I really like you. You’re one of the only people I know that isn’t in some way related to me. And you’re pretty as hell. Like, just so...breathtaking. Also by the way your skin is SO smooth.”

Magnus pretended to fan himself. “I try.”

“But yeah. You’re really genuine. You’re super friendly, but you also seem so sad sometimes. I don’t know what you went through, but all I know is that you have tonnes of new friends here for you.”

“Thanks,” was all Magnus replied with. If Alec knew any better, he’d say his eyes were slacked with tears. But he wasn’t crying, nor was he going to show it. He rang his friend instead.

“Hey, Cat! So. Bit of an awkward situation. Yes, this isn’t my phone. I broke it. I need you to come to Central Park ASAP. Thank you!”

Shortly after, a Portal opened up. The same woman stepped through as the one from earlier- the blue lady.

“Why is there a Shadowhunter here? Magnus, what on earth have you done?”

“You see, that’s just the thing. So. I’m Magnus. And this,” he said, gesturing to Alec, “ is Alec Lightwood. Current Head of the NY Institute.”

Catarina’s jaw dropped. “Did you body swap with a goddamn SHADOWHUNTER??”

“At least he’s sexy?”

“Jesus Magnus. You are certifiably insane.”

“In fairness, it would’ve been more awkward if I body swapped with a Shadowhunter woman. You know, boobs and stuff. I mean, not that I wouldn’t want them, and I would probably be a sexy ass woman, but I would hate to wear a bra. They seem so uncomfortable.”

“Magnus, if you don’t shut up, I will summon your dad.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I can threaten to though.”

Alec, who had been watching the conversation with extreme confusion, butted in. “Sorry to disturb but isn’t there, you know, a more pressing matter at hand than what Magnus thinks he would look like with boobs and summoning his dad?”

Catarina smiled weakly at Alec. “I’m sorry honey. I’ve dealt with this hot mess for over 300 years. I don’t know what you see in him. But in the event that you actually do see something in him, be aware.”

“Aware of what?”

“Of me. I don’t let any of my friends get hurt.”

“I can assure you we have the same intentions then.”

Catarina nodded at him. “Right. Okay. Let’s do this.”

She stood in between the two men, and jutted her arms straight out either side. Both felt a sudden change, like an out-of-body experience. Then they blacked out and collapsed.

Magnus stood first. He was back in his body, and seemed happy enough to be so. Alec got up next, rubbing his temple. “Thank you, Catarina.”

“No problem. Now if you’ll excuse me, ya girl here has work. You know, saving lives and stuff.” And with that she too was gone. Leaving both Magnus and Alec, now rightfully in their own bodies.

“Well I think it’s high time we properly introduced ourselves to each other. Magnus Bane,” he said, sticking out a hand. “Alexander Lightwood. But everyone calls me Alec.” They shook hands.

“Can I ask what your middle name is?”

“It’s Gideon. I think it’s kinda weird and old. Why?”

Magnus smiled, like he was recalling a memory. “It is an old name. I remember him. Gideon. He was a lot like you in some ways. You want to know how he met his wife, Sophie? She made scones and brought some up to him. When she brought them up, they’d talk. So of course, rather than just telling her he thought she was pretty, he ordered about fifty scones up to his room. He didn’t eat a single one. Just so he could talk to her.”

Alec laughed. It was nice, he supposed, to hear about his old relatives. They seemed cool. “Wow. She was called Sophie? Isabelle’s middle name is Sophia. That must be why.”

“It very well could be.”

The two stood in silence after that. It took a while for Alec to realise that they hadn’t dropped hands. Nervously, he wondered. He slowly let go of Magnus’s hand, and let his hand slide to his waist. Magnus cupped his head with his hands. He leaned over slightly and kissed Alec’s forehead; a soft and sweet gesture that completely melted his heart.

“You should call me sometime. Maybe we could get some drinks?”

“Or we could just chill at your apartment? I mean, not that I don’t like drinks, but I just-“

“You’re a lightweight, aren’t you?” said Magnus, interrupting him.

“I am not!”

“God. First Lightworm, now Lightweight. Joking. Look, we can do whatever you want.”

“I’d really love that.”

“Now, don’t you have a meeting with your mom to get to?”

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i hope u like it ! sorry it took so long. i have one left to do!!

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vetteldixon · 4 years ago

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I was tagged by @babettevdw ah shit I’m so sorry. I was so happy to be tagged and then I left this sitting in my drafts like an asshole 😥

Rules are simple, answer the questions and tag at least 8 people to participate.

Nickname: Bisc is a nickname, obviously. My real name is unusual enough to make doxxing me pretty trivial. Bisc is short for Bisclavret which I borrowed from a 12th century lyric romance by Marie de France.

Zodiac sign: Virgo lol but Leo moon.

Hogwarts house: Is there any better way to explain a Virgo sun/Leo moon than to say that I thought I was a Ravenclaw for a long time until I realized I’m definitely a Hufflepuff? Nothing makes me happier than showing warmth to the people I like and I’m driven by the desire to uphold my core value of radical egalitarianism.

Favourite colour: seafoam green

Favourite animal: every bird, all the time

Favourite season: Definitely winter. Strongly considering a move to somewhere that gets that sexy lake-effect snow.

Somewhere you’d like to travel: Somebody asked me recently what race I can see myself attending in a few years and I said Mexico City. Almost feels like a crime that I haven’t visited a country with such rad culture that’s so close.

Random fact about yourself: When I started watching F1 I was raiding hardcore in World of Warcraft and was rated something like 95th percentile at what I was doing (Druid healing whoooo)

I am BREAKING the rules on tagging people because this has been sitting in my drafts for AGES and I think everyone who would respond to a tag by me has ANSWERED it already

#my social media incompetence is close to seb level #actually f1 related

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dashielldeveron · 5 years ago

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Viper IV: Suggestio Falsi

Warnings: violence, swears, the law.

Summary: Tom is hot in this new environment.

“I’m on it, Ms. Pham,” you said, weaving through the museum workers. Though all present were setting up the same gem exhibit for the Morgan Memorial Hall of Gems, you had developed a nervous tick of mouth twitching at being out of place. Displays for lesser gems were slowly taking shape, and labels for empty cases described gems and jewellery that were being shipped in from across the globe. The hexagonal display for the Gawain diamond stood centre with an ivory pallet on which for it to lay whenever it arrived, and a jovial gem specialist adjusted the exhibition lights at your direction.

“I’m back with the gobo and gels,” you said, handing them to the specialist, “Do you really think a gobo will show off the colour correctly?”

He shook his head. “It’s what Ms. Pham wants.” He held the two gels under the light separately and then layered.

“Is a whole damn light show the standard for the museum?”

“Only when it’s something spectacular, and if you’ll allow me, and I’m sorry if this is too much, but you’re something special if you can get the world’s most recent major gem here this quickly.”

His crooked grin made you smile, and you scratched the underside of your chin. “That’s very kind of you. I’ve been really impressed with all of your input on the matter, or, at least, what Ms. Pham’s permitted you to do.”

“I both love and fear that woman,” said the specialist, slipping in the gobo and a gel at the same time.

“I feel you. Y’know, I hear there was a bit of a fracas the other day when her bisc—”

“Excuse me,” said a cold voice from behind you, and Tom was locking eyes with the gem specialist when you turned. His hand wrapped tightly around your arm, where the rolled cuff of your blazer creased at your elbow. “I need to borrow my lawyer, if you don’t mind.”

Already guiding you away to a secluded spot between display walls by the end of the sentence, Tom let his grip on you fall once he had your full attention. “You aren’t answering your phone,” he said.

“Ms. Pham confiscated it.”

“You are a grown woman. You are capable of having your phone on you for your goddamn job,” he said, catching you make eye contact with the gem specialist over his shoulder.

Tom began to turn towards him, but you stopped him by saying, “What do you need me for, Holland?”

His eyes sharpened, and he gave you a close-lipped smile. “I sent Harrison and Zendaya and Macca and co. on their missions this morning, and that means it’s just you and me. I. You and I,” he said at your raising of an eyebrow, “I’m going upstate for a few days to check out what that grass is.” He lowered his voice as an employee walked by. “And you’re coming with me. I don’t want you holed down here alone when we have someone with a mean kill streak after you.”

“This was not worth coming to the Natural History Museum for.”

“The lab analysing the grass is my brothers’.”

You ran your tongue over your lower lip. “I’m meeting your brothers?”

“You’re meeting my family,” Tom said, his brow furrowed, “I don’t trust any of the local hotels enough. We’re leaving in two hours, and you need to go pack. We’re driving from Osseous. And pack something—” Tom fumbled for a moment. “—pack street clothes. Not—not what you normally wear to work.”

You plucked at your blouse. “What’s wrong with my work clothes?”

“You’ve got to be casual. My family doesn’t like me bringing my work everywhere I go, so they don’t know you work for me,” he said, crossing his arms.

Crossing arms meant closed body language, probably meaning defence? Oh, Christ, what’s he not wanting to tell you? “Okay, lay it on me,” you said, “What’s the catch?”

Tom forced his expression into a scowl and straightened his back. “I told them we were dating.”

***

Tom rang the doorbell four times in quick succession. “You’re about to see me act in a way you are never to disclose to anyone under any circumstances, Dr. Prine included. This residence is top secret, my family’s business highly furtive. You are to act as I do in this undercover operation at your discretion.”

“Am I about to see the notorious Thomas Holland as a human person? I didn’t know he was capable as so much as a heartbeat.”

“You’re not allowed to speak to me that way.”

“I get it, Holland,” you said, setting your duffel bag on the front step, “It’s your family. They see you differently. I won’t think any less of you.”

His shoulders slackened, and he put his hands in his pockets. “Much appreciated, but there’s another thing: you’ve got to call me Tom.”

You scrunched up your nose. “I can’t do that—!”

A short woman with laugh lines and crow’s feet opened the front door, and she pulled Tom into a hug, making him drop his suitcase on accident. “Tom, you’re here early. It’s so good to see you.” She squeezed him with vigour before released him and held out a hand to you. “And who’s this?”

“Mum, this is my girlfriend,” Tom said, and he hesitated.

Tom and you hadn’t talked about how you would be addressed on the car ride upstate. You couldn’t say Viper, because that would connect you with his work, and you damn well couldn’t say your real name, because sure, like you were going to share with people who post carelessly to social media.

“Just call me V.” You shook his mother’s hand. “Everybody does.”

“Well, then, it’s nice to meet you, V. I’m Tom’s mum. You can call me Nicola.”

“I’m not sure I can do that morally,” you said.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, “Come inside.”

***

“The lab’s been closed for hours now. We’ll have to go in the morning.” Tom hunched over to open the refrigerator.

“Unless Sam or Harry could identify it here without any equipment. It might be something common we don’t recognise.”

“Christ, Viper, are you that keen to get out of here?” He pulled out a soft drink for himself and tossed you a capri-sun.

“This place makes my anxiety spike,” you said, muddling the catch but not letting the pouch touch the floor.

“C’mon, they’re not that bad,” Tom said, cracking open his can with a hiss. “All right, perhaps my dad was too invasive.”

You poked the straw through the pouch. “How am I supposed to know how we met or what our first date was? I don’t have any idea what your family qualifies as normal!”

“Though you were pretty slick with that ‘PDA disgusts me’ comment,” he said with a slurp, “Covers a lot.”

“Well, it does,” you said, and you lifted yourself to sit on the countertop. “If I’m letting myself be vulnerable for someone, I don’t want an audience.”

Tom took a deep drink and had to thump his chest for the carbonation. “Noted.”

“But seriously, Holland, I want to get this done as soon as possible. I don’t want to leave my cat alone for too long.”

“What’s your cat’s name?”

“Trout,” you said, “and she is perfect.”

“I bet.” Tom fiddled with the aluminium tab until it popped off the can. He set it into a crystal bowl full of them. “Wait until you meet Tessa.”

“Where is she, the backyard?”

“No, she’s at my place in the city,” said Tom, sitting on the island across the way from you. He swung his legs. “You really should meet her sometime, though.”

“Providing I can survive one more minute of this,” you said, “Not too fond of pretending I’m back at Polson’s firm.”

“It’s not too much longer.” Tom leant back on one hand to finish the rest of his drink, tilting his head back to show his Adam’s apple, bobbing with each swallow.

You decided it was okay to stare discreetly, for you two were in a candid setting, but you had to consciously make yourself stop deep-throating your capri-sun straw.

When Tom left his hair ungelled, his unruly curls added two inches to his height, and he had a habit of ruffling them up to make them messier (it was something you had picked up on in the mornings when his gel still held; his hand would go to his hair by default only to stop himself before it reached it). He wasn’t in a damn suit for once, although his casual was too stiff to be fun: a patterned, short-sleeved button down and khakis. You would pay good money to see him in a pair of close-fitting jeans.

But then, you’d been a surprise, too. You’d shown up to the Osseous Enterprises building in your Mom-is-in-town-so-let’s-show-her-the-highlights-of-the-city-to-prove-we’re-doing-fine-and-not-living-like-a-sewer-rat outfit, and Tom had actually, legitimately fucking frowned at you before telling you that you looked nice.

“So, Haz and Z are off scouring seedy joints in upper Manhattan,” you said, setting your empty pouch aside, “Where’s Macca? You never told me.”

“Isadora’s murderer was seen going into the underground,” Tom said, gesturing for you to toss him your trash, and he caught it. “I sent Maccabruno and a couple of crews to spread out in the subway tunnels. He might be camping in an abandoned one.”

“It’s for sure the same guy?”

“Unless there’s another guy with a penchant for dressing in black, covering his face, and carrying a poorly concealed polaroid camera,” said Tom. He bent forward to throw the trash into a garbage can in an island cabinet.

“That feels suspicious. Too obvious,” you said, “Like it’s a lackey drawing us in.”

“Regardless, I want to follow every lead we have. If it’s a trap, it’s a trap. No damage done.”

Somehow, you doubted that, and you didn’t have time to process it. Nicola came into the kitchen with Paddy, and Tom jumped down from the island, hastily signalling for you to do the same.

When Sam and Harry finally got home, you strategically cornered them between white wicker chairs on the back porch, much to Tom’s chagrin.

Harry leant backwards in the wicker chair, creaking beneath him. “What’s got you so desperate?”

“She’s another one of Tom’s girls, Harry,” said Sam, sitting on the arm of Harry’s chair, “She’s looking for connections in case it doesn’t work out.”

Tom was suddenly very interested in tying his shoelaces.

You dug the grass sample out of your civilian purse. “I’d like you to take a look at this, please.” You handed the bag to Harry, who took it and held it up to the fading sunset. “If there’s anything you can tell me about it without our having to go to the lab, that’d be much appreciated.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that and hunched over to look at the grass, too. “Not much we can do if we’re not there.”

“But I know what this is,” Harry said, shaking the grass a little, “It’s one of my side projects.” He turned his attention to you. “Who are you, again?”

“I never said.” You sat next to Tom on a wicker lounger but did not look at him, let alone sit close enough to touch him. If an outsider saw the scene, he might think you didn’t know the other was alive. “But he trusts me,” you said, jerking your head in Tom’s direction.

At Tom’s approval, Sam sucked in through his teeth and said, “All right. Then what is it, Harry?”

“Maltangrass. It’s a cover crop,” said Harry, handing the sample bag back to you, “for hops, mostly in New England. With growing reports of hospitalisations from this year’s local breweries, I’ve been looking into it, along with a few lads at the lab.”

You held the grass up to the light, but still, no veins shone through. Just plain grass. Didn’t look like anything special.

“Turns out maltangrass isn’t affected by glyphosate. That’s a common weed killer,” said Harry, “and the hops that have been growing in the same patches are now used to glyphosate, so there’s a high level of weed killer in beers being made this year. Don’t drink it. Obviously, I guess.”

“The levels of glyphosate on this grass could in no way have killed those nine,” Tom said to you.

“No, it might have,” said Sam, “Why don’t you try drinking something that’s unregulated and about ten percent poison?”

“I’ll pass,” said Tom, standing at the sound of his mother calling him in to help serve lasagne, “Be back in a moment. Fuckin’ behave, guys.”

The second the porch door slid shut, Sam snapped his head in your direction and said, “So, you know about the mob, yeah?”

You picked at a hangnail. “Of course.”

“And you’re dating Tom. What do you do there?”

You winced, flicking the hangnail away and dabbing at the blood. “The same as his other girls, I expect.”

“Yet you don’t strike me as the type to ho around,” said Harry, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. He actually said that. Incredible. “He texted us that you were a lawyer. Do you work for Osseous in the fake business department, or something?”

“Do you work for Osseous?” You flicked away more blood.

“How long have you and Tom been dating?” asked Sam, ignoring you.

“Let’s see. About four months, I suppose? Maybe a little under that,” you said.

Sam smirked. “How far into that did you fuck him?”

“My dude,” you said with all the grace and charm of a lawyer under pressure, “I invite you to shut the fuck up. I’m a kissless virgin.”

The sound of choking came from the sliding door, and there Tom held his hand over his nose and mouth while diet coke dripped down his chin. He wiped it off, sniffed, and said, “Dinner’s ready.”

Harry elbowed you as you made your way to the kitchen and muttered, “Better get a move on, then. You’ve got something he wants if he’s letting you be this much of an uptight bitch.”

After Nicola’s fucking fabulous lasagne at dinner (during which you, seated next to Tom, had to pester him to stop fucking knocking against you with his arm while he ate, to which his mother made a jocund apology about his being so muscular, much to your embarrassment), Tom escorted you upstairs to his bedroom.

“It’s nothing special,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets (again. Was he ashamed of his family? He wouldn’t be the first), “Our other house has a guest room, but you’ll have to deal with my old room for tonight, so my mum says.”

“Didn’t think a mob boss would cater to parental whims.”

“Yeah, well, they’re family. They still see me as a little kid, no matter what I’ve done to prove otherwise,” said Tom, idly rubbing dust off of a boxing trophy on his shelf.

Yes, there were childhood trophies and teenage posters on the walls, along with a packed bookshelf you had to go through later, but the thing that made your heart palpitate—lo! Behold! You looketh and beheld there was only one bed, the same as in the storybooks and songs of old.

Great. Fabulous. No, really, it was great, because if everything plays out, it means that you’d get to the next level of intimacy with Tom, which hopefully would mean he’d actually express emotions at some point or vent to you about his problems outside of the bare minimum. And it would all start by supposedly accidentally cuddling.

Obviously, the first thing to do is argue about who gets the bed with him relenting to you, and then you’d compromise, say that if he stays on one side, he can sleep there with you. Then, by morning! Lo! There, his arm would snaketh around thy waist, and his mouth pressed against thy nape!

Perfect.

And you knew what to do. Very casually, you told him that he could have the bed tonight and that you’d sleep on the floor.

“Okay,” said Tom, and he grabbed his suitcase and went into the bathroom, locking the door.

You blinked twice. “Excuse me?”

***

While Tom slept facing the wall, you sat on the floor against the bookshelf and typed up your latest Epiales article. You had a deadline in two days, and you weren’t going to sleep, anyhow—but at least Tom was sleeping. He probably felt safer here than anywhere else.

You closed your laptop and ran your fingertips over the spines of Tom’s old books, some of which you recognised and some not. You pulled out a thin, yellow, children’s book that turned out to be on astronomy and flipped through it. Charming. The book was published more than four decades ago, and the star charts were hand-drawn, so how accurate was it? Couldn’t hurt to check.

You got up and unlocked the window, pausing when Tom shifted in his sleep, and you climbed onto the roof, opening the book at random to a constellation, lit up by the light of your phone. Okay, not that one, you’re in the northern hemisphere.

“You’re not slick,” came Tom’s voice from the window. He was leaning on his elbows out of the frame and smiling.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter,” he said, and he grunted when he pulled himself onto the roof. He brushed the grit off his hands on his pyjama pants and sat next to you. “Why are you still up?”

“I found an astronomy book of yours.” You showed him the cover. “I wanted to check it out. I was kind of into astronomy when I was really young, but it seems like most of it has left my brain.”

“I’m about the same,” Tom said, crossing his legs. One of his knees grazed yours. “It’s lots of Greek myths I used to know. If you prompted me with a few details, I could probably finish the stories.”

You turned off your phone light and looked up. “Somehow, I’m okay with not knowing all the stories.” And that revelation startled you. How could you be content not knowing the cosmological but needing every detail of the mundane?

Tom and you sat in silence for a bit before he broke it: “Makes me wish Star Wars were real.”

You laughed through your nose and told him to get fucked.

You could hear his smile in the dark. “All right, then. It really is late, though. We should go to sleep.”

You moved to hug your knees to your chest and to set the book aside. “I’ll go to sleep when I’m ready, so fuck off,” you said, grinning.

“Viper,” Tom said, close enough for his body heat to meld with yours in the cool of the early morning (so close but yet so far), “I’m getting worried about you. When are—”

A harsh, stentorian alarm blared from your phone, and from the bedroom came the same from Tom’s.

“Is it an amber alert?” Tom asked, tilting his head to read over your shoulder.

BOMB THREAT ENABLED FOR MANHATTAN, QUEENS, BROOKLYN, AND THE BRONX. ONE DETONATION HAS ALREADY OCCURRED WITHIN THE SUBWAY SYSTEM. AVOID UPPER MANHATTAN AND TRAVEL BY FOOT OR VEHICLE. EFFECTIVE FOR 48 HOURS.

“Oh, my God,” said Tom, “That’s got to be Macca. Holy fuck.” He stood, taking your hand to help you up, and he held it to escort you roughly back into the bedroom.

You shook your hand loose once he released his tight grip on you. You started shoving your stuff back into your duffel while Tom dismissed his alert and called Harrison.

“Do we have intel on anything? How have we lost contact with them all?” Tom was saying as he came out of his bathroom with his toothbrush.

Within ten minutes, you and Tom got into the car and sped off in the early hours of the morning. Shortly after you got out of the neighbourhood, you got an update on the bomb threat: there was a blurry picture near the site, and in yellow spray paint were the words Epiales sends his regards.

Well.

Um.

What.

Okay.

Yes.

Seriously?

We’ll deal. C’mon, get to it. You can do it.

I promise.

Tom’s hurried conversation with Harrison faded, your heartbeat overpowering everything else. You wrote the shortest entry to date for your website:

Anything not written for this website, the regular New York Times column, or the Prine Law Journal and claiming my authorship was not written by me and should not be credited as such.

You were processing that it was the same yellow spray paint as Tom hung up the phone and gritted his teeth. “Maccabruno’s dead,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, “Everyone I sent on that job is.”

***

The sun blazed down on Macca’s funeral. Quiet. Stifling. There were a lot of familiar faces there, most of them from work, both mafia and from the Osseous front, although a few threw you for a bit: there was the barista who worked the Starbucks six blocks down, the woman who begged on the corner three up two over.

Harrison and Zendaya were near the casket covered in flowers with Macca’s sister, who was one of the few openly weeping. You could not make out what they were saying, but as the two of them spoke to his sister, they held hands. You narrowed your eyes. Their mission must have been singular.

You glanced at Tom’s hand, at his side in a loose fist with his watch slipping down his wrist over the back of his hand. If there ever were a time to hold his hand, it’d be now. No one wants to be reminded they’re alone when someone close to them dies.

Instead, you nudged his shoulder with yours. When he looked your way, you gave him a weak smile, which he returned. His eyes fell to your waist, to your flask sitting on your hip. “Let me have some of that,” Tom said, hoarseness creeping into his voice.

“Your funeral,” you said, unlatching the holder and sneaking it to him. Both of you jolted away when your fingers touched.

“Thanks,” he said, and he threw his head back, taking too big of a gulp before sputtering and swallowing whatever he didn’t spew out. “What the fuck is that?” He shoved it back against your chest.

“Pure espresso,” you said, and you mindlessly returned the flask to your belt after a sip. “What, you thought I would be drunk on the job?”

Tom wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I figured you’d want to take the edge off.”

“Nah,” you said, “Not ‘sposed to drink on antidepressants.”

“You’re depressed?” Tom bothered to look at you. “You have depression?”

“I’m not taking pills for fun.”

Crossing his arms, Tom prodded a loose clump of grass with the tip of his shoe. “I didn’t know.”

“I’m extremely high-functioning,” you said, “It’s all right. Really. It’s only something you’d notice if you were paying close attention.”

You crossed your arms, too, and stared at the casket, the pastor’s words about Macca’s life blandly floating through one ear and out the other. You rubbed at the sweat at your hairline. At least the reception would have some satisfying carbs. Preferably cold ones.

“Then maybe it’s time I started paying close attention,” said Tom, taking a small, side step to be nearer to your ear. His elbow and upper arm pressed against yours, and he spoke in undertones so that none of the surrounding guests could hear him. “I have noticed when you’ve been right and Macca wasn’t these past few months. Your instincts could compete, but your brains make you come out on top. Often, you had better judgment.”

Tom licked his lips, and he turned wholly to face you, taking you by the shoulders to make you face him straight on. “Congratulations on the promotion. You’re my new consigliere,” he said, tapping each of your shoulders—knighting you. “Don’t let me down.”

***

suggestio falsi—false suggestion, a false statement made in the negotiation of a contract.

***

taglist: @hollandroos @starksparker @paradoxparker @gryfinpuffs @bi-writes @presidentbttrflyfreak @stealth-spiderr @astronomyparkers @parsleysbaby @wheremyotpat @infamous-webhead @pparkerwrites @laurfangirl424 @softspideys @gendryia @plethoraofpuppies @laucontrerasv @qxeen-of-hearts @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven

#tom holland #tom holland/reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #mob au #Mob!Tom #mob!tom holland #mob tom #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #viper au #dash it all

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twohearts-hs · 6 years ago

Text

‘A Small Phone Call ( lV ) - Harry Styles Divorce Series

Words: 2,029

Pairing: Harry Styles & (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Warnings: swearing, slight mention of abortion and stillbirth

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

She looked down, anxiety creeping on her. He found out. Harry found out and here he is, angry and mad at her. She didn’t need this, not now, not ever. Y/N recently just got herself together, got her shit together, got her life together, and he decided to show up all beautiful, and angry and fuck everything up.

“Who told you?” she said, the first thing that came out of those pretty lips.

“We don’t keep secrets, Y/N.” Harry told her, pacing the hallway and ignoring her question, “We’re a team. We may be divorced, but we know one another. We understand each other. We. Don’t. Keep. Secrets.” he said, spitting each word out at her. She stood, holding the door open still, watching him having a mental breakdown in her hallway.

“Can you come in, and yell inside my flat? I have neighbours.” Harry mumbled a ‘fine’ and walked in.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked quietly, he couldn’t even look her in the eyes.

Y/N stayed quiet, letting him yell and scream at her. This wasn’t the first time. This was actually one of the first red flags. Harry didn’t treat her with respect anymore. He saw her as his wife, that was it; as a sort of property. A tear fell down her cheek.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N, you’re crying! I should be the one crying, me!” she looked up, and instantly knew...he was drinking.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, wiping the tear off her cheek. Harry looked at her, and all of sudden felt a sort of guilt.

“Come here,” he said, grabbing her and pulling her in a hug. She started to cry, and cry and cry.

“How far along are you?” Y/N pulled away, looking at Harry who placed his thumbs under her eyes and wiped the tears away.

“Eighteen weeks,” Harry’s actions stopped for a moment, looking at her with wide eyes.

“How long have you known?”

“Morning of the signing of the papers.” Harry grabbed her by the cheeks and kissed her on the forehead. Y/N just broke down, fully and completely.

Y/N was the first to pull away. She looked around the room, and began walking away; quickly moving the hair in her face.

“So, you now know the truth, and it’s late,” Harry nodded, standing awkwardly, “plus you’re drunk.” she looked down, noticing the very large space between them, “so, um, leave...please?” she asked in more of a question.

She didn’t like Harry here, she didn’t. It didn’t feel good, but she needed to be strong for her baby. Harry nodded furiously, mumbling a ‘yeah’.

“Y/N, I want to go to the next appointment,” Harry asked standing by the door. She nodded, starting to walk around the room, looking for a particular item.

“Here,” she gave him a piece of paper. Harry turned it over and almost choked on his sob. “It’s from a few weeks ago. I am really behind with all the tests, as I didn’t catch my pregnancy till sixteen weeks. But, my next appointment is in a few days.” Harry nodded.

“Can I keep this?” Y/N nodded, as she watched Harry pull out his phone, “When’s the date for the next appointment.”

Y/N stood there awkwardly, “Tuesday.” Harry opened his calendar and looked up with a guilty look.

“I’m in L.A.” Y/N stood quiet, “Can you move it?”

He was doing it again, job coming first, him coming first.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I can’t, I’m already very behind with all the tests as I caught my pregnancy quite late.”

“Please, Y/N. I need to be there.”

“Then come to the next appointment.” Harry started to grow angry.

“You don’t understand, Y/N. I need to be there, we don’t want to repeat what happened with—”

“Harry.” she snapped, “We won’t repeat what happened with Tate, with these tests, that I can’t miss.” Harry started to pacing, running his fingers through his hair, the alcohol still in his system, creating his temper to get higher. She knew about his temper, and after all these years, she still doesn’t know how to calm it down.

~~~~~

Tate. The name was written on her hip in cursive. But, she tried not to remember it. It was a year ago, it was simple times. She was happy, as was he. They were happy unlike now. But, soon that happiness faded and started causing problems for them.

Y/N got pregnant after a year of trying, and her and Harry were stoked to have a baby after so long. But, though she holds onto the painful times of the hospital and depression, she doesn’t remember how happy she was before that. The day she found out about the pregnancy, telling Harry, and the first appointment. Yet, through the love that they showed him, and the stellar health record she held, he was born through c-section at seven months, coming out as a stillbirth.

She blamed herself for months, and months, and it created a toll on the couple. Harry mourned with her for the first few months, but eventually decided to move on, but hold onto his remembrance day by day.

Y/N was a different story, she sat in the nursery, staring at the window. She did that for months, she stopped working and had no motivation. Therefore, accepting this pregnancy was hard to begin with. She didn’t want to replace Tate.

~~~~~

“I’ll cancel L.A.” he reasoned.

“You’ll regret that, and we will have a fight, blaming it all on me.” she leaned against the counter.

“Give me the clinics number and I’ll pull some strings,” he mumbled. He didn’t get it, he never gets it. Y/N took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts.

“I’m not your wife anymore, Harry. I am a fucking independent woman, who doesn’t need her ex-husband to say who he is and to flirt with the front desk lady to get what he wants. Grow up and accept things around you. Now, you can come on Tuesday or you can go to L.A. because I bet you that you have so many great ideas for songs after what I did to you, and what we’ve been through. So, for the love of baby Jesus, I will not ask you again. It is almost twelve a.m., I have work tomorrow, and I am eighteen weeks pregnant, so get out of my fucking house. And, take your drunk ass with you, because you drunk is a big no-no for me, as you’re a huge dick. The door welcomes you.” she said, walking to the door of her flat and opening it.

“Bye!” she said with a grin on her face, and she closed the door, taking a deep breath.

No matter how much effort she puts in to get rid of him and forget him is ridiculous, as he never leaves. She can’t have him around her for a long period of time, there is too much pain for her to bare. Too many bad memories.

“He knows, and he’ll never leave,” she whispered, as a tear fell down her cheek.

~~~~~~

The clinic smelled like disinfectant, which was not very pleasing for her. It gave her a wave of nausea, and the constant ringing of the phone was giving her a headache. This was not her place. It wasn’t a safe place for her either. Her leg began bouncing up and down, and her hand began trembling. Last time Mylène came with her, this time she is by herself, as she was on a business trip. She watched the stream of people walking back and forth and the very pregnant ladies around her.

She looked to her left, seeing a teenager - roughly around seventeen - with her mother, and a boy around the girl’s age too. Y/N felt sorry for them, she knew what was about to happen, but she didn’t want to accept it. Especially someone who went through so much to have a baby.

Her leg kept bouncing and her hand shaking, until she felt a large hand on her leg, catching her attention.

“I know your fear of hospitals. Recite twelve different dog breeds, and take deep breaths.” he looked perfect. He always did. Always have been amazing at presenting himself, while she looked like a crazy person with anxiety.

“I thought you were in L.A.” he nodded, looking at her.

“I moved L.A., you two come first,” he said, taking the courage to place his hand on her small swollen stomach; Y/N flinched a bit, not use to that level of intimacy. ‘Right’ she thought, ‘of course I come first...since when?’, she just smiled.

“I didn’t tell you what clinic I would be at. You know how stalker like that is, you just show up?” Harry laughed, she smiled a bit.

“I had to bribe Niall with a dozen bottles of beer and a really expensive whiskey to tell me.” she laughed but was caught off by the nurse.

“Y/L/N, Y/N?” she stood up, Harry following her.

~~~~~

The door closed behind them, as Y/N stood in the room. Harry stood there, not knowing where to go. She has been here a few times, about to get an ultrasound, therefore she knows the Shazam.

She sat on the bed, lying back down, and looking towards Harry; silently chuckling.

“You look so lost, H. Sit next to me.” Harry quickly nodded, heading to the chair to the right of her.

“Hey, Y/N! So, how are you and Biscuit?” Dr Wilkinson came in. Harry looked confused.

“Hey, very good. I think we’re going pretty well.” Dr Wilkinson stopped in her tracks seeing Harry.

“That sounds great, and who is here today?” Dr Wilkinson was Y/N’s OBGYN when she was pregnant with her first pregnancy, yet Harry failed constantly to be at the appointments, as he was continuously away.

“Harry...he’s my baby daddy.” she laughed, handing out her hand. Harry took it and shook it.

“So, you declined last time to find out the gender,” she sat on the stool next to Y/N, as she wrote down something, “Are you ready?”

“It is up to Harry, but I am ok now. Biscuit is finally real to me. I’m having a baby, Dr Wilkinson.” she said the last part with a lace of excitement in her voice.

“Right you are, hun,” she said patting her shoulder.

“Y/N, can we wait till the baby is born to know the gender?” Harry asked, looking at her.

“There’s your answer, Wilkinson.” Y/N said.

Y/N pushed her t-shirt up her stomach, reviewing a bump. Harry took a short breath and just stared.

Dr Wilkinson placed the gel on her stomach, as Y/N sucked in a breath. Harry quickly moved his hand to hold her hand, rubbing it.

“There’s your baby, and Biscuit is very healthy.”

“Why Biscuit?” Harry mumbled, pulling her hand to his mouth and kissing it.

“It was the first thing I craved...biscuits with pesto sauce, believe or not.” Harry smiled, his lips still attached to her hand.

Y/N looked up at the scan and watched her baby. It was her baby. Something clicked within her, and she pulled her hand away from Harry, abruptly. She is going to do anything to keep this baby safe. She’ll protect them till the end of her days.

“Can you print some pictures?” Harry asked.

This baby is hers, and she doesn’t want to share anymore. Maybe it’s time for World War ll with them, the first was the divorce, now its the second. Biscuit is her’s, and she was going to sign on it.

#Harry Styles #harry #harry edward styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles preferences #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction oneshot #one direction imagines #one direction x reader #harry styles oneshot #1d #1direction #1d imagine #1d preferences

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inearthlydelight-blog · 6 years ago

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The Characteristics of Business Intelligence Competency Center

The Start of Business Intelligence Competency Center You may use the model to obtain a better comprehension of your personality, and the kinds of roles which are most likely to suit it. Hence, cultural transformation of accountability should happen so as to prevent failure in the very long run. It's unique as it focuses specifically on the skills necessary for success in unfamiliar cultures. Our partners probably feel exactly the same way. It's a kind of intelligence which has been tested by academic researchers in over 30 countries over nearly a decade. During the training, you're work in groups and take part in group discussions each and every day. The vital challenge now is to present this data to users in a style which does not demand any considerable training or specialists to employ. If you wish to talk about the possibilities, don't be afraid to speak to us! To begin with, broaden BISC scope and governance to account for the newest trends and best practices, including Then you also have to think beyond the box with a great deal of innovative BISC best practices. The very first challenge is data preparation throughout the organization. On the other hand, the deliverables of distinct organizations at the exact same capability stage may change in quality, repeatability and predictability. You've got to rely on various other skills to find that info. Power BI provides a number of characteristics to help you begin exploring data in an entire new way. Performance reporting should have a longer-term view to recognize trends and regions of improvement. The idea of a BI CoE isn't new. Why Business Intelligence Competency Center Explained All questions should be answered. Its responsibilities have to be clearly outlined and appropriate resources must be offered. You may look at the customer journey through the site,'' he explained. Learn all you have to understand in this four post collection. You are also going to be able to check whether or not a page was checked out, and once it was last modified, and by whom. Progress can best be produced through a cohesive decision-making structure in your organization. You'll learn all of the necessary skills and techniques. Yes you are going to have to pay. The Argument About Business Intelligence Competency Center New advances in BI possess the capacity to support business objectives. BI can additionally help to boost efficiency at manufacturing organizations. BI is very important to boost your decision-making based on past benefits, whilst business analytics can help you move forward and understand what may be going to occur. Hence it is critical for each BA to possess the capability to fully grasp how IT systems and technology can help solve business issues. Your BICC also needs to be specifically designed to satisfy the demands of your organisation, and to this end the Cornerstone Solution systems are customised to satisfy your requirements. To begin with, you need to have a system. To begin with, the company procedure and functional support teams are composed of people acquainted with the packaged applications. Popular software choices for companies in need of a company intelligence system include Pentaho and Sisense. BICC concept is subsequently promoted by the rollout program that was indicated, and the plan is made up of a resource analysis that's used as a promotion document. The chance for IT executives is to transform their workforce and establish the competencies needed to enable AI later on. Without BICC, businesses would be not able to make fast and trustworthy decisions. Many businesses don't have one. For instance, the team features experts in the region of advanced customer analytics and societal media analytics. Such a team may be a subset of a current enterprise architecture capability and generally is composed of a few of staff (1-5). Every BI project team should have a complementary skill set to do the crucial activities for the 3 development tracks. The management certain models differ in they require leadership abilities and the capacity to define other competency requirements for each work role and aspect of the company. As a consequence, it's much better to get a step-by-step approach with the correct analyst, appropriate talent and suitable tools to steer clear of BI project failures. If it is possible to model the organization's data and analyze that data to make more intelligence in the business, that's a potent skill collection.

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biscu-t · 9 months ago

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(Hypothetically, if there was a sprite based one of your OC's which OC would it be and what type of magic would you prefer for it to be made out of, even obscure kinds like Gaiomancy or smthn)

(I might've lost you somewhere, but the only two oc's I can think of at the moment don't really have magic, except for like a very specific version of one wich is like, a fairy made of plants that is well, connected to nature and can glow. But my braincells are really not working at the moment, if you want to elaborate i'm here tho)

#Bisc answers #bisc rambling #bisc rambles #void plague

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bambi-lesbian-posts · 2 years ago

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I suppose another way to answer this would be that "bisc" or "bisk" is another term for the early stages of the firing process with ANY porcelain, and seeing as bisque porcelain products are fired but not glazed, that would also be used to describe them? But I'm unsure of this. Human language is strange.

Do you know why itscalles bisque porcelain? I thought bisque was a type of soup

I believe it's an abbreviated version if "biscuit", because it is very brittle and porous when it is in its early stages, so it was referred to as "biscuit porcelain" by the artisans who used it.

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cindywrits · 6 years ago

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Hello there! How is it going? Pleased to have you here. Today, I will be sharing a new recipe. It’s something easy to prepare, affordable, yummy and appetizing. It’s all eaters-eatable. So, you may be wondering what is this new recipe? How it is prepared? What it is its content? Who can eat this? Don’t worry, I will answer all your questions and explain as we go further.

What is Biscoat?

Biscoat is derived from the English word Biscuit and Oat, like quaker oats. But this mine is Bisc-Oat, as in a combination of Bisc and Oat for pronunciation. Biscoat, as the name sounds is the mixture of affordable items to produce a creamy-yummy-tasty meal.

Biscoat, as I’d call it has been in existence just not with the name I gave it. I did invent its upgrade version. Lmao, You’d say, I upgraded it, a little.

Why I said that?

That’s because, as a student in college and high schools, I’m quite sure most Nigerians would have done this. But, mine is a bit different to what you already know, of course. This post is for you to try something else outside what you already know.

If you are a Nigerian student and you stayed boarding in high school or lived alone in college, you may have come across this sometime in the past, just not the upgraded version. Haha… You would agree that there is a slight difference to what you already know, and that brings me further to the birth of Biscoat.

Birth of Biscoat

As a food buddy, I came up with this recipe a few days back. I was famished, but I don’t know what to eat as my taste buds seem to have adapted so much to the rice and beans routine. I wanted to taste something new, something yummy yet creamy, I wanted to try some other things. Then, a bub light appears in my head, and I started gathering the items as they flash through my mind and then, bam! It clicked once it entered into my mouth and touched my tongue, my taste buds spiked up as a shiver runs through my spine, I know what you think! Haha…it was a good feeling. You would call it food inventory. Funny right?

The amazing thing is that the ingredients are affordable, they are basically all the things you have in your home.

Ingredients For Biscoat

As I said earlier, the ingredients for Biscoat are quite affordable and easy to get.

Biscuits are the first ingredient you need. Any kind of biscuit can go, but I prefer Cabin Biscuits. Yale product to be precise.

Milk either, liquid or powder can go. Both can be used for someone who prefers it creamy.

Water is of course important. It is essential when it comes to human and meal.

These ingredients are affordable and I’m sure they can be found in many homes as snacks and breakfasts. Nevertheless, the preparation is simple and easy all you have to do, is simply apply the ingredients to your taste, but not too much to avoid too getting sick as you know milk can be quite make one puke or purge, that is if consumed too much.

How to Prepare Biscoat

Break the biscuits into pieces and tiny bits.

Add water (not cold or hot) drops by drops, to avoid it turn watery.

Add milk (powder before liquid) to taste and stir.

If you get it right, it will be thick as golden morn or quaker oat and yet creamy. After that, your meal is ready to be served. It should look like this if you got it right.

Who can eat this?

Actually, Everyone can eat it. As long as you are not allergic to any of the ingredients, then it’s fine.

That’s it, guys! I wanna thank my Instagram fans who stopped by today because of the post alert I posted yesterday on my page, Thank you all. You can comment on your thoughts and your outcomes after trying, what do you say? I’ll be waiting…

Have a great time.

With Pack of Love,

xoxo.

Enjoy!

PHOTO CREDITS: GOOGLE AND MINE.

Bisc-Oat Hello there! How is it going? Pleased to have you here. Today, I will be sharing a new…

#BiscOat Food Recipe New

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uscdornsifeadmission · 6 years ago

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Biology And More - Shannon Lam

When I arrived at USC for my freshman year, I thought I knew what I was doing. Key-word: thought. My plan was simple. Major in biology, be a pre-med student, and go to medical school. It was a straightforward plan to help me become a doctor, something I had been dreaming of since I was in elementary school. After all, I loved biology, so it only made sense for me to follow my self-made path. Little did I know that I would drastically deviate from my “simple plan” and end up where I am today—a double major in Human Biology and Gender Studies.

Ever since I was in elementary school, biology fascinated me. I was always asking questions and wondering about the human body and its processes. How does the body process food? How does the body fight infections and disease? When I got to college, I knew I wanted to continue asking these questions and finding answers. But as I was asking these questions about the human body, I was also asking questions about gender and its impact on everything. Why are there so few women in STEM? How can I push back against the patriarchy and fight for the rights of the marginalized populations?

Though I was happy to start getting more involved in science, I missed discussing social justice issues with my classmates and being a part of organizations serving and helping marginalized populations. I knew I wanted to continuing exploring gender and its intersections with race, class, and sexuality, alongside my studies in science. With the help of my advisors, Jeanne Weiss (Gender Studies) and Laura Ames (Human Biology), I was able to add on my second major in Gender Studies so I could fill in that gap.

At first, I was a little nervous about double majoring in two very different academic disciplines. I wasn’t sure how I was going to balance my introductory chemistry courses with all the essays I had to write about gender theory. But I soon realized that thanks to the interdisciplinary nature of USC, I would be able to combine my two passions and study them together, not separately. In particular, as a member, and later as co-Director of Campaigns, of GlobeMed at USC, I was able to bring my knowledge of human biology and gender studies into discussions about global health, such as discussions of female genital mutilation. I learned that I can be both a scientist and an activist.

I’ve also been able to work in both fields of study. This past summer, I was a research intern at the Helms Lab at Stanford University, studying the effects of ovariectomies in mice on osteoporosis, on bone healing, and on bone stem cell differentiation. I was able to take what I learned from my Human Biology courses and labs and apply it to the lab work I was doing. For example, I had learned about Polymerase Chain Reaction (PCR) in my Molecular Biology (BISC 320) course my sophomore year. Flash forward a year later, and I was helping my researcher conduct a PCR experiment in order to determine the genotype of the mice we were using in our research. My internship helped reignite my love for science and made me confident I wanted a career in science.

Similarly, this semester, I am interning at the Relationship and Sexual Violence Prevention and Services (RSVP) at the Engemann Student Health Center for my Gender Studies Internship course (SWMS 311). I am taking the knowledge I learned about gender and its role it plays in domestic violence and power-based violence and will be using it to help survivors and victims of sexual and gender-based violence, as well as programming events to spread awareness and support around these issues.

Double majoring has not only allowed me to further my passions and interests in biology and the humanities, but it has also helped me discover what I want to do with my life. As someone who was so pre-med focused since elementary school, I realized I was preventing myself from seeing the different career paths I had in front of me. At the core of it all, I wanted to help people. I didn’t realize that helping people meant that I could be something other than a doctor. Throughout my courses and involvement in the Gender Studies department, I’ve been able to meet social workers, academics, crisis counselors, and many more people who have shown me that there are many different ways to serve the community. Currently, I have a pre-grad emphasis and am planning to get my Master’s in Genetic Counseling. This program not only allows me to continue my love for science and research, but it also combines an aspect of social work and crisis counseling that I was able to discover through Gender Studies. I love my two majors, and although they are different, they work hand-in-hand in making me the intellectual scholar and passionate activist that I am today.

#usc #dornsife #dornsife ambassador #student blog #shannon lam #biology #gender studies #research #internship #lab #health #medicine #pre health #pre med #stem #human biology #gender #social issues #meet the majors

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