#his recent relationship with sunglasses cannot be ignored

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

Old habits die hard

1998 (age 27) and 2024 (age 53)

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis is pining for Harry. We hope you’ll enjoy this list. We also have a mutual pining rec list here and we will have a pining Harry rec list eventually. Happy reading!

1) Down On Your Knees, You Don’t Look So Tall | Explicit | 3445 words

Louis and Harry are friends, and best ones at that. Louis loves Harry more fiercely more than he's ever loved anyone, so he doesn't really have a problem with it when they start doing this thing. this wonderful, wonderful thing.

2) You Had Me At Hello | Explicit | 4529 words

Louis works in the shop next to Harry's cupcake shop.   Louis pines after Harry until he goes into a heat and Harry finally catches up.

3) Just Like Live Wires | Explicit | 5427 words

Harry climbs into Louis’ bed when he’s cold. Louis pines.

4) Something To Live For | Mature | 5535 words

After over a century of waiting for Harry to realize they're mates,  Louis gets his heart broken when his friend announces he's found his 'one' in a human girl named Teresa. Wanting only happiness for Harry, Louis accepts that it just wasn't meant to be and decides it's time to let go of the immortal life.

5) Five Times Harry Styles Was Jealous | Mature | 6184 words

Harry's jealous all the time but there were five times that definitely stand out. Five times that changed Louis and Harry's relationship.

6) On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine | Explicit | 9261 words

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.  

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

7) Let The Beating Waves Come Drag Me Down | Explicit | 9447 words

“Just try it, the worst thing that could ever happen it’s that you won’t like it” Niall had told him. And there he was, on the way to one of these pubs created for perverts, willing to break up the routine to try something new, something that terrified as much as excited him.

One night to get swept up in passion, one night to let the devil get in.

"Tonight, I’m going to make you scream of ecstasy Louis,” he said with a raspy voice full of control, making him tremble with anticipation.

8) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9699

There are a lot of people Harry might expect to find on his doorstep at three o’clock in the afternoon these days.

It could be the delivery man, come to drop off the pair of boots Harry impulsively ordered online last week. It could be one of his neighbors, dropping by to complain about how a party he’d thrown weeks ago had clogged up the street. It could also be any number of his friends in L.A., who stop by unannounced most days to mooch off Harry’s food or whisk him away to try some new yogurt shop.

As a rule, it definitely cannot be Louis Tomlinson, although Harry’s blinked at least three times now, and it’s still Louis standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a duffel bag at his feet.

9) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10232 words

Nice guys always finish last.

10) Call If You Need Me | Explicit | 10770 words

If anyone asks later on, Louis plans to tell them that it’s all Niall’s fault.

11) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13150 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

12) Just Let Me | Mature | 14714 words

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

13) We’re the New Romantics | Explicit | 16054 words

Alternatively, a high school au where Louis pines and Harry is not who he seems to be. Featuring peanut butter banana milkshakes, motorcycles, and first times.

14) Wait For Me (To Come Home) | Explicit | 16066 words

A future fic of time stamps where Louis finally comes to grips with a love he'd denied for too long.

15) Deflower Me | Explicit | 20154 words

Louis is a proud virgin, and no matter how much society tries to make him feel like a freak for not acting on his natural urges, he doesn't suffer from his lack of experience. He has never felt drawn to someone in a way that made him want to get involved sexually with them, and he isn't planning on rushing himself so he can get some because people think it's what he should do.

In walks Fratboy, the Serial Haunter of His (wet) Dreams, who thankfully has a little business going on that might be just what Louis needs.

16) I Wanna Be More Than Friends | Not Rated | 20721 words

The one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

17) The Way The Storm Blows | Explicit | 21649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

18) Ours Are The Moments I Play In The Dark | Mature | 30830 words

Jane Austen's Persuasion AU. Nine years ago Louis Tomlinson was persuaded to break off his engagement to Harry Styles, a poor sailor. Since then Louis has come to regret being so easily convinced to give up his one chance of happiness. Now Louis' family is in debt and his childhood home is being sold. In a complete reversal of fortune, Harry has returned to England a wealthy bachelor looking to settle down. Events conspire to bring them together once more though Louis is- must surely be- the last man on earth that Captain Styles would think of now.

19) If Ignorance Be Bliss | Mature | 30429 words

Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

20) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words

The accidental bonding a/b/o fic.

21) Mark My Word (We Gon’ Be Alright) | Explicit | 35524 words

"He’s always known that there would come a time when Harry would bond with some beautiful, quiet omega, and they would have lots of curly-haired pups and live happily ever after.

Knowing it and living it are two very different things, though. Watching the object of your affection desperately search for a mate and completely disregard you as an option is all sorts of painful, but it is what it is, and Louis is just going to have to learn to live with that."

22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39831 words

Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

23) Eyes Off You I Explicit | 39396 words

A Charlie’s Angels inspired fic where Louis is the brains, Harry is the charm, Liam is the muscle, and Niall drives the getaway car - and Zayn is there, too. sometimes.

24) Kiss Me On The Mouth And Set Me Free (Nut Please Don't Bite) | Mature | 42074 words

Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.

"...Louis wanted him so badly. Wanted Harry to pick him up, bite him, and break him. Make Louis his, make Louis cry, make Louis a beautiful, plump, pregnant omega..."

25) Let Me Touch You Where Your Heart Aches | Explicit | 46625 words

A Friends with Benefits AU, in which Louis falls in love and Harry is jealous. There is some Karaoke singing somewhere in there, because how do you write a romantic comedy without a Karaoke scene?

26) Underneath The Moon | Mature | 46927 words

In five years’ time, Louis would be the one saying to his students about how he knew the great Harry Styles, in a time before he had ever put out an album or performed on a real stage. Harry fucking Styles had been his best friend and he still loved him, he always would. But they couldn’t stay that way.

27) The Sidelines | Explicit | 47078 words

Note: There are mentions of Top Louis.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can’t stand one another, since they can’t keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other.

28) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

29) Pinkies Never Lie | Explicit | 83615 words | Sequel

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

30) Inevitable | Explicit | 185917 words

AU where Louis and Harry used to be more than friends, but everything had to change the day Harry introduces Louis to his new girlfriend.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[void-knights]

Distractions

Square Filled: Distracting them with affection

Pairing:  Loki (Marvel)/Sigyn,

Rating:   Teen

Word Count:  3314

Tags: Jötunn Loki, Loki’s past, Self esteem issues, Fluff, Comfort, Care, Shapeshifting, Snake Loki, Bisexual Sigyn,Genderfluid Loki,

Summary: Exhausted and with his energy depleted Loki’s jötunn form reveals itself against his will. Sigyn distracts him with affection.

Written for: @lokibingo​

AO3 Link

The recent missions had left Loki pushed to his limits, he could not remember being so challenged as he had been as he was as an avenger. Tonight he lay in bed unable to move after a long luxurious bath, it was like other nights or, so he had assumed.

As he went to run a hand through his hair wondering if perhaps it was finally becoming too long he noticed the skin on his hand and forearm shifting from alabaster to a deep blue. For a moment all he could do was stare transfixed as though he were watching it happen to someone else and not himself.

Then reality came crashing down around him, it wasn’t happening to another person it was happening to him now. He tried commanding his own body to obey him, to have his skin shift back, he had mastered shapeshifting at the age of sixteen he could do this. Yet he could not. His own body betrayed him. More skin shifted from the familiar Aesir to the stranger Jötunn, he panicked.

What would happen when Sigyn saw him like this? Adrenaline surged through his body giving him the strength to kick off his blankets and stumble towards the vanity. He searched the surface of the dark wood furniture, various Midgardian creams and lotions that he and Sigyn were testing lay scattered.

The cosmetics hid in the second draw down, he pulled it open with the ridiculous idea that he could somehow hide his sudden inability to master his own body by caking himself in powders and creams. It might’ve worked if people ignored the crimson eyes (Sunglasses! He reminded himself) and the raised lines that ran throughout his body.

Oh, and now he had horns? They had not been there before, he was certain that the last time he had been forced to take this form he lacked horns. Suddenly there was a pressure around his head, one he had never noticed before as the horns seemingly sprouted not from his forehead where he first thought they had but from the sides of his head, just above or behind the ears which were now pointed. The horns were a shade of blue so dark and deep they almost looked black.

Panic filled him as his form became less and less Aesir with each passing second, his nails were a dark blue just like his horns, his entire body seemed more sensitive to the heat surrounding him, to the luxurious fabrics he wore.

He could hear Sigyn approach, his hearing had vastly improved, all his senses were heightened he realized stumbling back to the bed and ducking beneath the covers completely covering himself while attempting to force his body to submit to him. Why could he not control his own body?

The door opened, he could smell Sigyn from the lemon based perfumes she favoured to her own natural musk, he could smell Stark’s aftershave and oil, metal and something artificial clinging to her.

She marched on over to the shower slightly more heavy footed than was necessary, it took time, twenty-three minutes, during that time he tried once again to force his body to submit to him. A glimmer of hope came when his fingertips turned paler, but that hope was smothered within a few seconds.

Sigyn was out of the shower, “You were right,” She said in that overly resigned but amused and affectionate way she had whenever having to admit that she was wrong, the goddess of fidelity and victory did not take loosing well. “Stark is good company, I almost want to adopt him.”

Some part of Loki could imagine the scene and Stark accepting, then Sigyn would proudly show off their Midgardian son to all of Asgard and Odin would be forced to endure a Yuletide with Stark… this was starting to sound like a good idea.

A finger prodded at his head, “Did you fall asleep in your armour again?” she asked he pulled the covers tighter around himself desperate for her not to see him like this. “Darling?” Sigyn asked sitting herself down on the bed beside him, his back against her thigh.

She sifted, he felt the blankets being pulled, “DON’T!” he warned her. She listened to his protests releasing the blankets instantly.

A momentary beat passed before she asked him, “What is wrong my love?” her fingers running along the length of his arm.

He shivered unable to respond, how was she going to react? He could not get this form under his control, she had never seen this side of him, it was something he had made sure of.

Sigyn did not abandon him, instead she draped herself over him a comforting weight atop him separated by the warmth of the blanket that used to be sinfully soft against his skin but now seemed rough, harsh. She was no fool, she quickly realized what might be happening and soothed him as best she could with a gentle humming while gently rubbing circles into his back through the blanket.

He could feel the smile gracing his own lips as she somehow managed to squeeze him with her upper body as she remained half draped over him. It seemed so foolish on his part to worry about Sigyn’s reaction, her very nature was loyalty, she was a woman who was understanding, she had stood by him through the best times and the worst.

But this, this was different, this had been forced upon the pair of them, a lie that even the god of lies had not been able to detect. It was not part of their lives until Odin forced it upon them, by then it had been the start of a great downward spiral.

They had found their place side by side once more, but the issue of what he truly was had never been spoken of or addressed. Where once before Thor’s first coronation, before the truth was revealed, they had indulged in the idea of starting a family.

Loki had always teased her that she would make a great mother, and she would, though she often dreaded the idea of carrying on her families habit of having twins. She had been a twin, her mother, grandmother, grandfather and great-grandmother all had been twins.

But the more they had spoken about it the more they had liked the idea, a pair of twins born together, raised together on equal footing. They would never need fear inheriting a throne or whether one parent thought them a mistake. They would be loved and adored, treasured until the end of days. It had been such a nice dream.

“I cannot control it,” he admitted hating how meek he sounded beneath the blankets where he hid. She squeezed him again, “My jötunn form.”

She guessed as much, even at his lowest points Loki had never hid from her like this before. He never spoke of his Jötunn side, this other form, he never wanted to admit it or address it, that was part of the problem. How could they fix something that they never addressed or spoke about?

“In what way can you not control it?” She asked him still rubbing circles in-between his shoulder blades.

If they could not talk about it emotionally than they would boil it down to simple practicality. Not that Sigyn liked this path, she would rather Loki be comfortable and happy in his body regardless of what shape it took. But this was a start.

There were many options, may ways that Loki could explain what was happening yet the best solution was often simplest. He shifted enough that Sigyn pulled herself off of him and then slowly he pulled back the blanket revealing the issue at hand.

Instead of recoiling in horror as most aesir would she inched towards him placing both her palms against each cheek, she greeted him with her usual warmth, that smile made her brighter than he remembered. She leaned into him, her nose brushing up against his the new horns were not dissimilar to the golden horns she was more familiar with.

“I told you,” she taunted before brushing her freckled lips against his deep blue lips. She grinned pleased with herself they both knew she was right. He sat himself against the headboard while she sat by his side facing him, she never stopped smiling. “Rest for the next couple of days and eat plenty, you should regain the strength to reign in your shapeshifting.”

If his brain had not been working against him he might have come to this solution first, instead he forgotten the simplest solution. Rest and recouperation.

He grinned sheepishly, “Does that mean I will be pampered?”

“You know I never miss an opportunity to pamper you my love,” She answered, he could already see her planning how she was going to spoil him. Though stubbornly she would refuse to admit it should anyone ask, I was their private life after all.

They settled into their usual ways with some minor awkwardness, laying his head in her lap she took into account his new features. While she was used to him wearing horns she was used to being able to remove them. Gently at first she tucked hair that had fallen over his face behind his ear careful to avoid the new additions. He still carried tension within his body, anxious that at any moment she would flee. She never would.

They were bound in a way that went beyond marriage, beyond simple love and affection. It was a connection that only fidelity and lies could forge, a relationship built on mischief and victory, they would not be torn apart by this simple blip.

Her fingers traced a ghostly line over the curve of his horn, a violent pleasurable shudder wracked his body, she misunderstood and pulled her hand back afraid that she had hurt or offended him in some way.

Instead, he rolled onto his back, “Do it again,” he urged the black of his pupils blown wide.

“There’s a joke here, something about horns,” Sigyn whispered against the skin of his jaw, Loki had an idea but quickly dropped it when she kissed him again.

In this form everything was new the feel of her was unusually soft and smooth, he had never truly appreciated how soft she felt against him until now. Her fingers traced along the lines running over his ribs and chest, each time she touched him his body shivered in delight.

It was moments like this that awed him, Sigyn loved him, he still could not understand how or why. Theirs was not an easy relationship, neither of them liked easy, but at times Loki knew he pushed Sigyn a little to hard. Most spouses would have left, most would have slammed the door so hard in his face all the realms would feel and hear it.

But here, as Sigyn shifted them, so she could hold him in her arms he forgot his worries just for a moment. The threads of magic that twirled from her fingers like fae dancing on the petals of a flower turned his attentions towards more pleasant things, more delightful memories.

Warm fingers lit by cool blues trailed down his arms, down his spine, she worked her magic soothing each and every physical ache she could. There was a doubt deeply rooted that she would never be able to truly rid Loki of all that plagued him mentally and emotionally.

It strengthened her conviction to remain by his side, to remind him that he deserved love and compassion. That he was worthy of everything she could give him and hoped in return that he found her just as worthy of his love and affections. Somehow she knew he did, they did not need to speak of such things.

Fingers drifted along deep blue skin, like a sapphire caught in the light of the moon his skin shimmered. Freshly fallen snow glittering beneath a pale silver moon came to her mind, the memory of a night spent together in the cold of Midgard where the northern lights overhead gleamed and glittered illuminating the surrounding lands.

They had made love underneath those lights, the cold did not affect Loki as it did her, so he lay in the cold snow enjoying the gasps of pain and pleasure Sigyn rewarded him with when he brushed icy fingers cooled by snow against her nipples.

It was something neither had considered before, the snow and ice was not supposed to illicit pleasure or feelings of warmth and comfort. But Midgard did not believe as Asgard, they welcomed the ice and snow (within reason) choosing instead to celebrate in the warmth but enjoying the cold.

Sigyn preferred Midgard for many reasons, that which was most obvious, here Loki could breathe. Free of expectations from the crowns that knew him, from the realms that would curse and defame him. Here Loki was not completely unburdened, but he walked lighter than he would in other realms.

She wanted to remind him of this, that he was loved and should not need to fear revealing his true self. But logical compassion was overwhelmed by centuries of abuse, Loki may never love his jötunn self and for that and so many other reasons Sigyn would never forgive either Odin, Frigga or Thor.

Loki should not have to live in fear of himself, for himself, but he did, and she desperately wished she could take that from him.

Drawing fingers along the lines of his body Sigyn could not help but marvel at his beauty, she was lost at the moment unable to keep her hands off him. Though in fairness she was like that with Loki regardless of form, gender or sex.

They had once spent an entire day together where Loki was a massive iridescent serpent, he had wound himself around her while she read her books his massive body had been so great that she had to use him as a chair. He had needed an escape, somewhere to hide and Sigyn welcomed him with open arms.

Though when he slithered his way up beneath her jumper, so he could have some sort of skin contact that wasn’t just her hands had been a little vexing. Especially when she needed to get up for any reason. But there was something adorable about Loki’s shimmering emerald form being so snugly wound against her, his inky black tongue flicking out against her collar bone as he nestled himself between her breasts. He made a surprisingly good chair as a snake.

But she drew the line at horses after Loki had attempted to spend the day with her in that form, having to explain why you were having a bath with your wife who was a mare was as about as awkward as anything in the early stages of their marriage. Along the way Sigyn simply lost the ability to feel awkward about being caught in odd situations with Loki.

If her spouse needed comfort she was going to give them comfort regardless of what form they took!

“Do you think being in your jötunn form may influence the way you shapeshift?” she pondered running her fingers through his hair. He always enjoyed someone playing with his hair.

Loki who had been nestled against her chest took a moment to consider this. It wasn’t odd to think that maybe it would, especially if it were simply a case of shifting between sexes and genders. But more complex shapeshifting, animals and creatures, that may not be affected.

“If you wish to see my blue breasts you need only ask,” Loki teased pressing a kiss against her collar bone, his horns bumping a little against her as he did so. Her fingers meanwhile continued to draw small circles into his scalp, he was caught between arousal and sleepiness wondering which would be the first to give out.

Sigyn thought about this, Loki never offered to show his jötunn form to anyone she suspected it was less that he was wiling to show her his breasts and more a joke. She did not press the issue for tonight, she knew the key to handling Loki when he was in states like this, slow and softly. He was not fragile or delicate by any means but that did not mean he did not deserve softness.

Instead, she offered a counter, “Well if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind you shapeshifting into a tiger could you do that?” she asked, she had recently discovered the amazing mammals and creatures of Midgard and wondered why they had never visited the realm sooner. Oh, yes… Odin.

Loki had previously transformed into Midgardian cats, mostly a black cat to mess with the other avengers whenever the mischievous fancy took him. It was never anything big, at first he was just there inside the compound, Sam would say “Did you see that black cat?” and everyone would look at him like he had gone mad. Innocent pranking.

She had missed his innocent pranks, the ones made to entertain him and those around him. The days when they were all a lot more innocent and a lot less afraid, as a young teen Loki had always tried to win Sigyn over with his pranks. More often than not they backfired, but he had won her over by being able to laugh or walk it off. Not many (especially the men) in Asgard had the ability to do that.

It was not simply selfishness that drove Sigyn to request Loki shapeshift into a tiger, a form that he never took before which would therefore pose a challenge but because after the distraction of concentration he may be in another form that would free him from the insecurities that his jötunn brought about.

However, Loki shook his head, “Not without studying the creature beforehand,” that, or he was too exhausted and didn’t want to admit it. Sigyn pondered this as she stroked her fingers along the length of his spine.

“Then how about an old favourite?” she suggested. She could feel him vibrate, whether in relief or excitement she didn’t know, all that mattered was he was slowly being pulled away from the less cheerful thoughts and feelings this form inspired.

Well she didn’t need to ask twice, did she? It might not be a tiger but as Loki shifted into a snake he wound himself around her and held her firmly in the coils of his body. She used her magic to toss a blanket over the pair of them, his long neck and body acting as her new warm pillow made of iridescent emerald scales.

She smiled when his adorable snout tucked itself upon her neck, his tongue flicking out against her ear lobe, an affectionate gesture she had come to adore whenever he spent time as a serpent. Sigyn smiled drawing her hands over as much of his huge body as she could, there was too much of him as this particular snake. His entire body so large parts of him hung off the bed. The flicks of his forked inky tongue slowly tapered off until they came to a stop.

A smile spread across her lips as she felt the tightly wound body relax, no longer burdened by reality Loki was safe in his dreams. She would make sure of it, the gentle suggestion of magic from her would always protect him from his nightmares of which there seemed legion.

It wasn’t long before she too found the siren song of sleep within the coils of her spouse, her greatest love. Her last waking thoughts were of tomorrow where she promised to make his favourite food.

That at least should assist in his recouperation.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Riley + Sunglasses + Undercover (8)

masterlist.

Read it on AO3. 

This is it! The end! Thank you all so much for coming on this wild ride of a story with me. I have lots of good stuff in the works (aka what distracted me from finishing this), so stay tuned!! Now, without further adieu...

*****

Riley slept horribly, courtesy of Desi kicking her once every few hours. How Mac tolerated sharing a bed with that woman for so long was beyond her. 

Awake for the fourth time that night, Riley was too exhausted to fight off the intrusive thoughts lurking in the peripheral of her consciousness. The things she’d said to Petrov….Riley could learn to live with it. She didn’t have a choice not to. Mac’s reassurances helped, but more than anything else, Desi’s words stuck with her. 

I saw you under the mask. 

You didn’t scare me. 

You were more in control than you think. 

Mac would always tell her things would be okay. But Desi….Desi wouldn’t. Desi was honest to a fault. Somehow that made Riley feel better. 

She glanced at the woman slowly taking over the entire bed. Riley hoped Desi would forgive her for kissing Mac. It wasn’t like Mac left Desi for her, but she didn’t want Desi to think there was some ulterior motive on Mac’s part. There wasn’t...was there? 

God, this thing with Mac had barely started, and it was already so messy. It didn’t sit right with her. 

Wanting nothing more than for this mission to be over so she could go home and think, Riley rolled onto her side, lying back to back with Desi, and waited for sleep to claim her once more. 

*****

“Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?” Mac asked, wide awake despite only getting four hours of sleep. 

“This is going to get us killed, isn’t it.” Desi’s response wasn’t a question. 

He feigned offence. “I can restrain myself.” 

Bozer frowned. “You absolutely cannot.” 

“Mac can’t what?” Riley asked, stumbling into the main room still half asleep. Her feet shuffled across the floor, like picking them up and taking a real step was too much effort. They’d let her sleep in, since Petrov didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon, although looking at her, Mac wasn’t sure how much sleep she’d actually gotten. Even less than him, probably. 

Desi answered Riley’s question, leveling Mac with a pointed look. “Can’t restrain himself from doing something stupid.” 

Riley managed a dry, “Is this supposed to be news?” She looked horrible--that soul-crushing type of horrible that seemed to always descend after someone’s world blew up in their face. She held Mac’s gaze, but there was no trace of the light that should’ve filled her eyes after a heated confession like theirs. 

Dread filled Mac’s stomach. What if she changed her mind? 

Riley plopped herself in a chair and opened her laptop. “So what stupid thing does Mac want to do? Spiderman his way into Petrov’s room with some TV cables and toilet plunger?” 

Mac smirked. It wasn’t a bad idea. If he used the cables to make a ladder…

Bozer cut off his train of thought. “Oh no! I see where you’re going with that, and the answer is hell no.” 

Mac continued working out how to pull off Riley’s joke plan while his friends jabbered. “How about I just do my thing and we go from there,” Riley finally said, yawning. No one was dumb enough to object to that. 

While they waited for Riley to do...whatever she was doing, Mac came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. She flinched. 

Oh. 

“Sorry,” she rushed to apologize. “You surprised me.” Mac frowned at her blatant fib. She’d never flinched from his touch before. Not even once. Tensed, maybe, but never outright flinched. Fuck. He removed his hands. 

“So what’s your great and grand plan?” he asked, forcing himself to move past the awkwardness. 

“Hack into the hotel’s system to see his check-out day--it’s today, by the way--and let Interpol know they should come pick him up.” 

That...that was a lot easier than any of the things he had been thinking. 

“When--” he started. 

“Agents will be here in twenty to pick him up.” Indifferent and professional. Like he was some random agent assigned to the mission. Not her partner of five years. Not her friend. 

Not her...person she confessed feelings for less than twelve hours ago. What the hell happened? 

He wasn’t ready for the answer to that question. 

Ignoring the churning in his stomach, Mac asked, “What about the rest of Petrov’s collective?” 

“Hopefully Interpol can use Petrov and his bodyguards for information to take them out. From what I’ve read about him, his relationships with business partners are questionable at best.” Riley craned her neck to look at him, her sleep-lined face soft and wary. “Either way, it’s out of our hands now.” 

Mac wasn’t sure if it was the dark circles under her eyes or the way her voice softened at the end of her sentence that made him throw caution to the wind. He changed his mind. He needed to know what changed her mind about him. About them. 

“Riles,” he murmured. 

Quietly, she said, “I’m not ready to talk about it.” 

Mac wanted to scream. They had everything they wanted right in front of them, and Riley was chickening out and refusing to explain why. “You have to give me something.” She didn’t. She most definitely didn’t. He wasn’t entitled to shit. 

Riley twisted in her chair to face him head-on. “Are you sure we aren’t making a massive mistake?” 

She might as well have slammed him face-first into a slab of concrete. He didn’t know how to respond to that. 

Of course they weren’t making a mistake. She was it for him...wasn’t she? 

Bozer’s warning echoed in his head. You need to take more time to get your shit together before going all in with Riley. Did she think the same way? 

She started rambling. “This is already just so messy. You and Desi just broke up, and we were so distracted she got kidnapped last night, and I don’t want to wake up two months from now and realize I was just a rebound and none of this was real.” Mac wanted to stop her, reassure her of his feelings, but that nagging little voice stopped him. 

Do you want her because you love her, or because you're afraid of being alone? 

He knew as long as Riley was alive, he’d never be alone in the world. A sickening thought bubbled up like bile. Was he just taking advantage of her? 

He wasn’t. He didn’t think he was. Not intentionally. He couldn’t do that to her….right?

Lost in his head, her words were so unexpected they barely registered at first. 

“We can’t do this,” Riley said softly. She solely focused on his eyes, reading the hurt and confusion in them. She knew, exactly, the effect her words had on him. Mac knew they had the same effect on her. 

Mac’s heart shattered into a million pieces, and in that moment he knew without a trace of doubt. He loved her. He was in love with her. 

But did he need to let her go? 

*****

A message popped up on Riley’s computer from her Interpol contact. He’s not here. 

Riley let out a string of foul language that made even Desi’s eyebrows skyrocket. Petrov wasn’t there. He probably left hours ago, if the team's recent string of bad luck was any indicator. He could be anywhere by now. Scrambling to task a Phoenix satellite to track the mob boss down, Riley cursed herself for not checking to see if he’d already left. 

She was smarter than that. 

This whole op was a mess. In every way possible. 

Matty would skin her alive when they got back to L.A. Whatever faith Matty had in her ability to spearhead an op just went up in smoke, if it hadn’t already. Fuck. 

Riley babbled an excuse about getting dressed and made a beeline for the bathroom. She felt herself spiraling, but she didn’t care. 

In her peripheral vision, Mac and Bozer shared a concerned look, no doubt silently debating who would follow her. She wished they wouldn’t be so obvious about it. She wished she couldn’t read them so well. 

From the safety of the bathroom, Riley heard a door slam. Steady footsteps approached. Mac. Those were Mac’s footsteps. God, why did it have to be Mac? 

Riley didn’t miss his hesitation before knocking. 

Everything was so fucked up. 

His voice was soft, like he was talking to a child or a frightened animal. “Hey, it’s not your fault,” Mac reassured through the gap. She hadn’t closed the door all the way, she realized. 

Some sick part of her wanted to laugh at how wrong he was. “Of course it’s my fault, Mac. It’s my op!” She yanked her jeans up. “This whole thing is a fucking mess.” 

This op was a mess. Their relationship was a mess. Hell, she was a mess. 

Dressed--in normal clothes, mercifully--Riley flung the door open with a frustrated sigh and found herself face to face with Mac, who looked like he just got punched in the gut. 

Icy blue eyes heavy with sadness, he spoke impossibly softly. “Is that what you think this is? A mess?” 

The implications of his question utterly wrecked her. She replied, equally softly, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” 

No, it wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. Her feelings had only spilled because they were fighting--for once in their lives--bubbling up like a pot of rice boiling over. At least she didn’t admit she was in love with him. She still had that, tucked away for when the right moment arose. 

If it arose. 

She regretted ever wishing this op would end with her and Mac alone in a hotel room. 

Riley didn’t know how long they were silent before she continued. “I know improvising is what we do, but I don’t want to improvise with you.” 

“Riles,” he choked back a sob. “I can’t lose you too.” 

Fuck. That wasn’t what she meant. She scrambled to explain. “You’re not losing me. Never.” A small glimmer of hope lit his eyes. “I don’t want to improvise because I want to build something permanent.” With you, she didn’t need to add. 

There was a “but” coming, and the look on his face told her he knew it. “But,” she grimaced, “I don’t think either of us are ready for that yet.” 

Her cheeks were wet. She didn’t know when she started crying. She couldn’t stop. 

Fighting back tears of his own, Mac asked, “What do we do now?” 

Riley extended her hand. Mac glanced between her hand and eyes, hesitating. It felt like an eternity passed before he carefully laced their fingers. 

“We get our shit together, together.” Her heart threatened to shatter into a billion tiny fragments, held together only by hope that someday, they’d both have the happiness they deserved. That this thing between them, it would wait for them like a sunflower facing east, waiting for the sun to rise. 

Searching her face, Mac tugged her closer, closing the gap between them until there was barely enough room left to breathe. She knew what he was asking. Riley tilted her chin up, and it was all the confirmation he needed. His nose brushed hers, causing her breath to hitch. Mac’s eyes burned as he lowered his lips to hers, so hesitant and light Riley almost didn’t feel it at first. He kissed her so heartbreakingly gently, their free hands slowly twining together. 

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, but God it felt like one. Honest feelings with bad timing could go fuck themselves. 

A quiet ding from Riley’s laptop finally forced them apart. For a moment, they stood utterly still, foreheads touching, just breathing each other’s air. As soon as they separated, they’d go back to being just friends. For now, she reminded herself. However long that was. 

Finally, Riley managed a halfhearted smile. “Come on, we’ve got a mob boss to catch.” 

*****

The elevator smoothly stopped on the ground floor, and Riley continued ignoring the concerned looks Desi gave her. She’d fixed her makeup, but no amount of concealer could hide the puffy, red-rimmed “I just finished crying” look in her eyes. 

“Riley--” her friend started. 

“I’m fine.” Lie. She wasn’t fine. Not even close. But she would be, eventually. 

Reaching into her bag, Riley pulled out the massive, rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses she’d worn when she first arrived. Some cynical part of herself laughed at how naïve she’d been, thinking this op would just be about looking sexy and stealing some new, fancy tech. 

As if they were a piece of armor, Riley slid the sunglasses on moments before the elevator door opened, putting up the Danika Jackson façade beneath them. 

You’ve got this, she reassured herself. 

Beside her, Desi replaced her concern for the stony glare of a well-paid bodyguard, and together, they sauntered across the lobby and out into the street beyond. 

After all, they had a mob boss to catch. 

[ourownsideimagines]

Strange Things Lurk In the Dark (Aziraphale x Sorcerer!Reader x Crowley Pre-Relationship)

Characters: Crowley, Sorcerer!Reader, Aziraphale

Requested: Yes 

Requested by: Anon

Point of View: Third Person Reader

Summary: Heaven finds a prophecy, believing it to be the impending doom of Crowley and Aziraphale. Little do they know, it’s just the opposite.

Warnings: poorly written combat, minimal editing.

Words: 1395

A/N: I modified the prophecy the anon sent into me and tried my best to write it in the 1600’s “I spelle however I want to spelle” way. Also, for the sake of the story, let’s say that Aziraphale kept the flaming sword. I’m not really satisfied with this ugh.

---

There was one prophecy of Anges Nutter’s that Heaven had managed to get it’s grubby little hands on. It had been retrieved by an angel shortly after armegeddon, in the front yard of Jasmine Cottage. A small, damp note card with smudged scribbles of notes and a perfect prediction in black typewriter ink.

It read as follows:

“One mortyl to sep’rate them, one mortyl to bynde them, one mortyl to destroy the Angel Azerafel and the Deville Crowly, or one to combyne them.”

Heaven was overjoyed, to say the least. A human to tear those idiots apart? What more could they wish for? After the absolute failure that was trying to destroy them, Aziraphale and Crowley were finally going to get what they deserved.

Or, at least, they hoped so. The prophecy was vague, to say the least, but all they cared about was the idea of ‘destroy’. They could get with the idea of them being destroyed. A few lower ranking Angels had attempted to point out the added ‘or combine them’, only to get dismissed.

Oh, if only they had listened.

---

It wasn’t a very stormy night - but it was a very dark night, that was for sure. The only thing that illuminated the dark Soho alleyway behind A.Z. Fell and Co. Bookshop was the glowing pendant (name) held up to their face. It was a very old pendent, from a time long past, hand made by ancestors whose names (name) could not remember let alone pronounce.

(Name) had been going over some rituals recently when the feeling of dread struck - something was passing through the veil, something nasty, and they weren’t sure if they would be able to stop it. At least not alone.

They had thought about calling up an old family friend, Mrs. Device, but knew this wasn’t exactly their area of expertise. After all, being a sorcerer and being a witch were two completely different things and (name) wasn’t even certain that Mrs. Device would understand what was going on.

They would have called up their mother, whom had taught them all that they knew, but their mother ‘doesn’t do that kind of thing’ anymore and ‘it’s up to you to defend us’.

Thanks, mom.

(Name) swung the pendant gently, and it tugged them forward like a magnet, and they allowed it to guide them deeper into the Soho alleyway. They did not live on Soho, and thank goodness, because if their calculations were correct, and if they couldn’t stop this force themself, Soho wouldn’t be around much longer. When the pendant began pulling itself towards the ground, (name) allowed it to slip from her fingers. When it connected with the ground, the light changed from a soft green to a blazing red.

Danger.

(Name) wouldn’t be able to evacuate much of anyone. Those who would open their doors this late at night wouldn’t listen to them anyway. They were alone, certain of their own death, and absolutely terrified. (Name) found themself cursing whoever had made this their task in the universe, and they began pulling things from their bag. First, they pulled out some chalk. Then, the small vials they’d wrapped in old newspaper, and finally, a small ceramic bowl.

 They began to draw sigils on the ground as quickly and as neatly as they could. There were no signs of anything beginning, but their hands still shook. Once they had finished the sigil work, they began pouring the contents of the vial into the bowl. (Name) was about half way through the ritual when the back door of the bookshop opened. Their head snapped up, surprised, squinting through the sudden light to see who it was.

In the doorway stood what appeared to be a man with blond hair, dressed in a tan suit with a blue button up and tartan bow tie. Behind him was, from what (name) could tell, another man with auburn hair, dressed in all black, and wearing sunglasses. They were both staring at (name) (from what they could tell, the man in the sunglasses was indeed looking at them), and all (name) could do was stare back.

“My dear,” The blond man spoke up. “What in Heaven’s name are you doing?”

“Nothing heavenly,” The red head spoke up. “You can taste it in the air.” (Name) opened their mouth to speak, but quickly caught onto what the man was saying. They grimaced, standing back to full height.

“You need to get back inside,” She rushed out. “Now, before it’s too late.”

“Whatever it is you’re doing, you must stop,” The blond man insisted. “We cannot allow you to bring such… evil unto this world.” (Name) gaped at him, realizing suddenly that these men thought they were bringing the evil.

“Oh, god, oh god no!” They said. “I’m not bring the, uh, evil,” They looked desperately back over to their stuff, and yeah, this was not looking good for them. “Please, you need to get inside, I don’t know what’s about to happen and-” They were thrown off balance, suddenly, as the ground began to shake.

The two men stumbled, grabbing the doorway to regain their footing.

“Shit,” (Name) cursed. “Shit, shit, shit!” They turned quickly, and dove for the bowl. The air before them began to tear open, a gust of bone chilling air almost sweeping them off their feet. They didn’t have much time at all. They began to mutter an incantation, grabbing the last vial and popping off the cork. To their surprise, the two men took place between her and the rift. She started at them in awe, but quickly snapped out of it and poured the vial contents into the bowl.

As the last words spilled from their lips, they shoved themself between the two men and thrust the concoction through the portal. It sizzled as it made contact with the large, grotesque creature that was crawling out of the void.

(Name) rummaged through their messenger bag, cursing profusely while the men gawked. They cried out in relief when they found their dagger, which they promptly stabbed into the ground. A crack began to form, spreading quickly towards the open portal. The earth began to split, a green glow illuminating the alley way. (Name) removed their dagger from the ground, and began running along the opening of the crack. They focused on staying above it, and beneath their feet small disks began to form. They hadn’t practiced air-walking in a long while, but no time like the present they supposed.

The beast lifted a long, inky black tendril towards them, and made to swat at them. (Name) thrust the dagger forward, yelping in surprise when it became stuck in whatever sludge this creature was made of. The tendril slammed them into a nearby wall, and (name) cried out in shock as they fell to the ground.

As (name)began to push themself up from the ground, their eyes widened in surprise as the red headed man flung a fireball at the creature, and the blond man followed with a blow from a sword (name) didn’t remember him having before.

(Name) must have hit their head, they assumed, because part of them swore they saw the outline of wings in the men’s shadows. They stood quickly, brushing themselves off before jumping back in, leaping towards the creature from behind and plunging the dagger into its shoulder. The ground had begun to close beneath them, limiting what little light they had.

(Name) yanked the dagger downward, causing a spill of inky blood to splash onto them as they fell back to the ground, this time landing on their feet.

The blond man snapped his fingers suddenly, and light appeared from above. (Name) gaped, about to ask how he’d done that when the creature let out an ear-splitting whale of pain. They shook off their initial shock, and jumped back into the fight.

What they had estimated would leave the city devastated was over in a matter of minutes, and had left them feeling broken and bruised, drenched in inky blood, and with two strange men.

“So,” They said, catching the men’s attention. They too were covered almost from head to toe in the ink, and (name) tried to ignore the fact that the red head’s glasses had fallen off, revealing a pair of yellow eyes. “Should I explain first?”

[jacquerel]

I played Fiasco with Sol and my two sisters today and we had a good time

We were playing with a Star Trek themed playbook, as it was something both my sisters would be familiar with (we decided not to go with Muppets or X-Files).

Sol was Security Chief Vi Quartro, star trek alien which is essentially a human with a prehensile tail I was First Officer Flash Branson, star trek alien which is essentially a human but they always wear sunglasses Carys was Captain Neurocognate, a human who graduated from “sunfleet” with flying colours Emma was Zolgo, Ambassador for the Zolgan Empire, a large furby with extendable arms

Vi Quartro and Zolgo had a relationship of Security Officer/Petty Criminal, as Zolgo's chief desire was to acquire additional wealth for the Zolgan empire, they met up occasionally in the gym Flash Branson and Vi Quartro were both contestants vying for the same job (Captain), who also shared a valuable alien fish who lives in their shared quarters Captain Neuro and First Officer Branson were Captain and First Officer, who collectively needed to make the profit of a lifetime Zolgo and Captain Neuro were "a blunderer and repairer", in that Captain Neuro is a very bad captain but Zolgo needs to help them maintain their position because they have influence over Neuro, in the form of a "mind-linking device"

The first scene is the Captain, Security Chief, and First Officer meeting to discuss the recent diplomatic talks with the Zolgans (which ended with Zolgo joining the crew as a permanent ambassador) where Vi mentions that some things have been going missing aboard ship lately, and both Vi and Flash notice that the Captain is acting erratically and begin thinking of personal advancement

Zolgo and the Captain meet privately, where it is revealed that Zolgo is sending weird visions to Neuro through an alien earpiece which Neuro believes are her own thoughts, in order to try to manipulate her into redirecting funds to the Zolgan empire. The Captain feels a "strange connection" to Zolgo and essentially believes that they are in love

Flash retires to his personal quarters and considers how much money he could sell he and Vi's rare fish for, in order to accomodate the Captain's sudden wishes for additional funds, but Vi walks in and the two have a tense conversation about what he was doing

Zolgo and Vi meet up coincidentally while they are working out in the gym, and Vi tries to wrestle with her suspicions that the alien ambassador might be behind some recent thefts (especially as this scene establishes their culture as being largely wealth-centric, in comparison to Vi’s culture which values physical performance and honour) but also wonders if maybe she’s just alien racist Zolgo is using the monkey bars under 12x gravity. Zolgo tries to probe Vi to find out where the crew keep the large stores of treasure they surely have, but Vi lies and says that it is kept in the Captain’s Office (while there actually isn’t any treasure at all) in hopes of tricking Zolgo into doing something obviously untoward.

We flash forward to Vi and Flash out on a mission (on a planet which looks suspiciously like a quarry in Wales) to track down information about a galactic fugitive known as “Onyxfinger”. Vi uses the opportunity for privacy to take Flash aside and try to ask if Flash agrees that Zolgo is supicious, but Flash believes that Vi is trying to manipulate him into making false accusations against the important diplomat so that Vi will replace the Captain when they convince the Captain to take a health break (she is complaining of regular headaches, induced by the mind-linking device)

also two redshirts die in the background while they’re talking

Flash meets up with Zolgo in the space bar (its spherical and has no gravity, run by a startender (star bartender) who is also spherical) where it is established that the ship is called the SES Cool Tapes, because all Sunfleet vessels are named by public poll and they tend to give frivolous answers Flash manages to offend Zolgo multiple times as he attempts to cozy up to Zolgo so that he can take over the captain’s diplomatic job later, but repairs relations by showing off his valuable fish and thus establishing himself as someone with wealth and power They establish a relationship, and Flash hints that if he had more power over the funding he might be able to set up a breeding program for his valuable fish

The Captain starts to misinterpret Zolgo’s mental conditioning, and rather than desiring “more wealth, for the Zolgans” begins desiring “more Zolgan wealth, for me, the captain”, and propositions that Zolgo and Flash both go on an expedition back to Zolgan space (which they only left about a week ago) to bring back some Zolgan wealth in order to improve the standing of the ship. Flash’s reluctance to leave the ship (and thus have less chance of becoming Captain) only earns suspicion from the increasingly paranoid Captain.

Zolgo and Flash, now on board one of the ship’s smaller landing vessels (The Runaway) alongside two disposable ensigns, decide to ignore their orders and divert course to return to the planet of the fugitive Onyxfinger, on account of the fact that Flash is an abysmal diplomat who is constantly offending Zolgan customs and that Onyxfinger has a valuable item (his Onyx Finger) which Zolgo wants, ostensibly as a bargaining chip with the Zolgans but actually because they just want it

The tilt introduces “A stupid plan, executed flawlessly”, and “A fantastic chase”

Vi and the Captain reconvene on the bridge, and oddly with Zolgo off the ship the Captain is feeling somewhat clearer of head. Vi is concerned with the direction they are heading and would rather continue to pursue their original mission with Onyxfinger, and the Captain reluctantly agrees (though takes rapid offence at Vi’s implication that her headaches began at the same moment that the Zolgan contingent arrives, because she still believes that they are a flawless people). The scene ends as they discover that The Runaway has diverted course back to Onyxfinger’s planet already.

Zolgo and Flash create a cunning plan mid-firefight, in which Zolgo will pretend to sell Flash to Onyxfinger as leverage and then they will use this opportunity to steal what they can and get out of there (Flash being more of an action hero kind of First Officer than one with particular dedication to Sunfleet’s diplomatic values), meanwhile both of their ensigns are disintegrated

We flash forward to Vi and the Captain, who have also landed on the planet, in negotiation with the criminal Onyxfinger, who claims that he only raids nearby space traffic because his quarry planet has little arable land and they have nothing to eat, his species’ intimidating look (with 12 mouths and 8 sets of barbed mandibles per mouth) makes people unwilling to deal with them, and besides they have little to trade except rocks. Stealing from nearby ships (mostly Zolgan) allows them to trade with the Zolgan empire for food in order to survive. This convinces Vi that they should show leniency, but the Captain is driven into a frenzy by the fact that Onyxfinger is badmouthing the Zolgans (with whom she has become re-infatuated, now that she is on the same planet as Zolgo again) and the scene ends as she pulls out a gun and shoots someone.

We flash backwards for a dream that the Captain had while napping off a headache in the SES Cool Tape’s second lander (the Starseeker) where she dreams about having a romantic dinner with Zolgo. During this conversation Zolgo is introduced to the concept of ice cream, and we learn that Zolgo is only a larval form and that when they reach full adulthood they  will look... mostly the same, but 1/3rd the size (the size of a real life furby). Zolgo finds it strange that humans actually get larger as they age, rather than smaller. The intention of this dream from Zolgo’s side is to instil in the Captain a sense that she should sacrifice herself for the Zolgan people (to make way for Flash, who is helping Zolgo more efficiently), and the dream ends as a gunman tries to shoot Zolgo, the Captain jumps in the way, and Zolgo reassures her as she dies (and the gunman dies of sudden cardiac arrest) that she made the right decision, leading to her frantic behaviour in the previous scene.

Vi and the Captain are in a frantic battle with Onyxfinger’s forces, as Vi fights with three swords (one in her tail) and tries to persuade Onyxfinger that they can still end this peacefully. Onyxfinger retorts that the Captain opened fire, and that he will happily negotiate in peace if only Vi shoots the Captain first. Vi cannot bring herself to do it and is gravely wounded by Onyxfinger, but Captain Neuro uses this opportunity to fatally shoot him, and due to Vi’s hesitation is now entirely trusting of her. The Captain drags Vi to the Starseeker, from which they see the Runaway already taking off back towards the SES Cool Tapes.

We flash backwards a little more to Zolgo and Flash also negotiating with Onyxfinger, but more successfully. Zolgo manages to convince Onyxfinger that having Flash will allow Onyxfinger to negotiate with Sunfleet for food, in exchange for stopping his raids on the Zolgans, which makes everyone happy. All that Onyxfinger has to do is help Zolgo replace Captain Neuro with Flash so that he can speak in Onyxfinger’s favour with Sunfleet, meaning that in the previous scene Onyxfinger was never negotiating in good faith and simply wanted Vi to shoot Captain Neuro so that Flash could become Captain in her place.

Now begins a chase to see who makes it back to the SES Cool Tapes first, with one ship containing Vi and Captain Neuro, while the other contains Zolgo, Flash, and a lot of treasure “liberated” from Onyxfinger. None of the other crew who accompanied either team survived, apart from Cyber-Worf, an android who is the only competent member of the bridge team and whose engineering work allows the Starseeker to keep pace even though the Runaway had a pretty big head start.

Unfortunately, Zolgo and Flash are the first to reach the mothership, and Flash announces over the ship communicator that Captain Neuro has executed someone without trial in clear breach of Sunfleet protocol and as a result, that he is taking command of the ship until an inquest can be performed into Neuro’s erratic behaviour.

While moving into his new office (and replacing the captain’s fish tank with his own), Flash finds Zolgo rooting around looking for the treasure that Vi promised would be in there but which obviously doesn’t actually exist. While trying to find out where the treasure actually is, Zolgo learns that there isn’t any, but also that Flash plans to just leave the treasure they took from Onyxfinger locked up in the Runaway, with the reasoning that “it’s pretty well locked up and barely anyone knows how to fly that thing anyway”.

Then it’s time for conclusions!

Chief Vi Quartro got a Black 9 (”Nothing to write home about”) Flash Branson got a White 8 (”Nothing to crow about”) Captain Neuro got a Black 2 (”Brutal”) Zolgo got a White 11 (”Pretty good”)

Chief Quartro spends some time recovering from her wounds in the med-bay, and is promoted to acting first officer by acting captain Flash, but finds herself wondering what would have gone differently if she had just shot the Captain herself. Eventually she requests transfer to a new ship, and aboard the SES Wyldstyle finds herself once again entangled with the machinations of the Zolgan empire. This time, if the situation comes up, she’s ready to kill her boss.

Flash Branson spends some time luxuriating in his new role of Captain, but is unable to enjoy it for too long as eventually Sunfleet bureaucracy catches up and he must return to his old role in favour of a new Captain, fresh-faced and straight out of the academy. He spends his last moments in the camera staring into his fish tank and musing about how he can possibly manage this a second time.

Zolgo absconds with all of the treasure in the Runaway, but the ship is blasted by gunfire and most of the loot is lost before they can make it back to Zolgan space. Nevertheless, they arrive in the capital with the Onyx Finger and also the new concept of “ice cream”, upon which they become powerful and important. Eventually Zolgo is reassigned as diplomat to another species (the same species as Vi Quartro) and lives to an old age there. The last shot of Zolgo is set far in the future, where they are now the size of your average Furby, and are sending back new culinary discoveries from the planet of Vi’s people to the Zolgan empire.

Captain Neuro is fired from Sunfleet and her life collapses entirely. She drinks and sleeps and does little else, apart from scratch the itch from the Zolgan earpiece she is still wearing. The visions she is receiving grow stronger and stronger and eventually she finds herself living entirely through Zolgo and experiencing their life instead of her own. Unfortunately, Zolgo’s feelings of achievement and satisfaction are not mirrored across their link, and Neuro is left alone and bereft.

We had a good time! I would do it again, maybe at Christmas.

[averyneel-blog1]

01 / BASICS

Full Name: Neel Oliver Avery

Nicknames: None

Birthday: July 7th

Gender: Cisgender Male

Sexual Orientation: Undecided

Romantic Orientation: Undecided

Astrological Sign: Cancer

Spoken Languages: English

Birthplace: Chicago, Illinois

Relationship Status: In a relationship with @caseyhxndrix

02 / PHYSICAL TRAITS

Hair Color/Style: Dark brown; usually kept at shoulder length; wears it in small ponytails and buns

Eye Color: Brown

Face Claim: Avan Jogia

Height: 5′10″

Tattoos: None

Piercings: None

Unique Attributes: A small scar that runs through his right eyebrow

03 / PERSONALITY TRAITS/TYPES

Positive Traits: Driven, Empathetic, Well Meaning, Hopeful, Kind

Negative Traits: Socially Awkward, Quiet, Self-deprecating, Insecure, Indecisive

Hobbies/Interests: Exy, Training, Running, Reading comic books

Major/Minor: After finishing all his general studies courses and coasting along without a declared major for as long as possible, he finally declared himself a Literature major with a minor in American History.

Insecurities: His relationship with his parents and where he stands, with them. His future and what it holds for him.

Quirks/Eccentricities: He picks at his nails and cuticles when he is nervous, plays with his hair a lot, loses every pair of sunglasses literally the day after he buys them, likes documentaries and podcasts and older music, hates the color yellow, prefers rainy weather

MBTI Type: ISFJ-T

Enneagram Type: TYPE 3: THE ACHIEVER

Moral Alignment: LAWFUL NEUTRAL 

Temperament: MELANCHOLIC

04 / FAMILY & HOME

Immediate Family: Father - Rick; Mother - Tracy

Other Family: No siblings or maternal/paternal grandparents; no real knowledge of cousins/distant relatives

How do they feel about their family?: What a loaded question. On the surface, there’s nothing Neel wants or craves more than the approval and attention of his parents. However, deep down, things are more complicated. After both guardians forced Neel from their homes as a teenager (rendering him effectively homeless for most of high school), they’ve recently shown back up in Neel’s life now that he is close to graduating college and, hopefully, landing a (lucrative) spot on a pro Exy team. While, Neel knows both of his parents are really just looking for an easy way out for their own problems (i.e. - using his pro paychecks to pay their own bills, settle their own debts, etc.), a part of him simply cannot let go of the youthful naivety lurking in the corner of his mind, constantly whispering: “Just give them a chance.” So he ignores his better judgement and tears himself apart to please two people who, honestly, could give a shit less. More than anything, Neel wants a family. A realfamily: one that loves and accepts him unconditionally. Unfortunately, he’s not likely to find that in Rick and Tracy.

How does their family feel about them?: As stated above, neither RIck nor Tracy were ever really good parents. While Tracy did love her son, her brand of love involved a lot of guilt tripping: a lot of smothering Neel with problems that weren’t his to deal with. She forced her son to grow up too fast, to be a man, a listening ear, a provider - when he should have been a child, a teenager. Neel’s father, Rick, has really only ever seen him as an accessory in his life. A well loved belt, maybe. Something he wore consistently for a while, but then tired of and shoved to the back of his closet, only to dust it off again years later and try it on, determined to make it fit through belt loops that had grown too small. To Rick, Neel is a possession - something that shares his last name. Something to own. Which is important, because that means Neel’s success is his success. Neel’s triumphs are his triumphs. A big deal for a man who has none of either on his own. Both Rick and Tracy care little for Neel beyond what his success as an Exy player can provide for them. Of course, that won’t stop them from pretending otherwise. But the truth remains.

Pets: None; he does like dogs, though

Where do they live?: Stays in the dorms @ Fox Tower during the semester and switches between Rick and Tracy’s houses/apartments in Chicago during the summer

05 / THIS OR THAT

Introvert or extrovert? Introvert

Optimist or pessimist? Realist

Leader or Follower? Follower

Confident or Self-Concious? Self-Concious

Cautious or Careless? Cautious

Passionate or Apathetic? Passionate (now)

Book Smarts or Street Smarts? Street Smarts

Compliments or Insults? Neither

06 / FAVORITES

Favorite Color: Gray

Favorite Clothing Style/Outfit: Very, very casual. T-shirts and jeans. Lots of plain hoodies and windbreakers. Nikes and Adidas running shoes. Ball caps and Palmetto State tees.

Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: Not a huge music listener, but he does like classic rock and alt. rock, and enjoys even older stuff from the 40s and 50s (The Inkspots, Bing Crosby, etc.); he enjoys listening to podcasts of all kinds - esp. true crime and mystery

Favorite Movies: He likes documentaries (esp. ones based around historical events/wars/”how its made”), classic horror movies like JAWSand Nightmare on Elm Street, and suspense/thrillers like Gone Girl and Get Out

Favorite TV Shows: He doesn’t watch a lot of TV, but when he does its the Discovery Channel, the History Channel or Animal Planet

Favorite Books: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof by Tennessee Williams, East of Eden by John Steinbeck, Pet Cemetery by Stephen King, Christine by Stephen King, As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner

Favorite Foods/Drinks: Corn Chips, Fresh Salad, Chicken Noodle Soup, Green Tea

Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: There are other sports besides Exy? Other teams beside The Foxes? He had no idea…

Favorite Time of Day: Early morning, pre-dawn

Favorite Weather/Season: Rainy/Storms; Spring

Favorite Animal: Neel likes dogs

[drdanwrites]

Magical Office - Season 2 Episode 3: Muggle Appreciation Part 1

I’m going to start breaking up some episodes into two parts. I wanted to catch everyone up to speed on all the characters before I go forward as a lot is going to be happening soon! 

Biggles: I'm not joking people, I can't stress to you how important it is for you to understand the difference between a nappy and a hat. Get these confused people… (he looks sternly around the conference room.) and you're in for a world of stink.

(The camera turns from Biggles at the front of the room to the audience of office members. Claire, has once again passed out and sunglasses have been placed over her eyes, but she is snoring loudly from her open mouth. Bridget is uninterestedly making figure eights in the air with her wand, it flashes as if a sparkler, leaving behind streaks in the air. Milton has a quill and parchment floating next to him and quickly flicks his wand at the two and immediately they go to work recording the information. Minister Parkinson sits in front with his head in his hand, looking at Biggles as if he was watching a faucet drip.)

INTERVIEW WITH PARKINSON

Parkinson: Today is Muggle Appreciation day. It’s the one day a year we allow Biggles to run a department meeting informing us about all the updates in the Muggle world. It tends to be horribly boring and inaccurate. (He pauses as if trying to come up with more information.) I'm still not sure why he's still here.

END OF INTERVIEW WITH PARKINSON

(The camera pans over to Newt who is sitting next to Tina. His arm is around the back of her chair. The camera zooms in on this physical display of intimacy. It begins to zoom in further behind them on you, completely ignoring Biggles lecture with all focus on Newt and Tina, a confused look on your face. You are attached to Rodger’s arm and as he notices your stare, gives you a playful squeeze to bring you back to him.)

INTERVIEW WITH NEWT

Newt: Yes, Tina and I have started seeing each other. She's accepted the position of Lead Auror in the Grindelwald investigation and is staying in London. (He looks down at his fidgeting fingers as looks back at the camera) I don’t know what to tell you, I can't just wait around forever. She dumped me and decided she wanted to be with someone else. Not that I understand, but that’s not my place to say. It’s like that muggle phrase Biggles is always saying, “If at first, you don't succeed, try, try again…” (he pauses after reciting this… as if figuring out how that fits into his situation) actually… actually, I don't think that's right… I think he got that wrong. Oh, Merlin…I'm turning into Biggles….(He brings a worried hand to his mouth and looks horrified at the camera.)

END OF INTERVIEW WITH NEWT

Parkinson: (raises his hand) You might want to translate the word “Nappy” for our American comrade here. (He points to Tina, who looks at him confused as she completely understood what Biggles meant.) (To Tina) You see the muggle term in America is “diaper". (To everyone) I'd hate for her to get confused, like my girlfriend, President Picquery. (The minister has a smug and proud smile on his face as the rest of the office begins to moan annoyingly.)

INTERVIEW WITH MINISTER PARKINSON

(Takes place in Parkinson’s office.)

Minister Parkinson: Okay. It’s true. President Picquery and I have entered into a passionate love affair. I know… I know… I said I was swearing off witches, but I just have an irresistible magical magnetism that witches and muggles alike cannot resist. (Pause) Oh no. The distance isn’t something we’re worried about. I mean, we are both madly in love with each other. Nothing could tear this apart.

(As he finishes his sentence, a red envelope falls on to his desk and an owl flutters and lands behind the Minister’s desk. His face lights up with excitement.)

Ah! This must be my international love with her response to my letters!

(He quickly seizes his letter opener and rips the envelope open. Instantly, the letter transforms into an angry woman's face.)

Piquery’s Voice: Dear Minster…

Minister Parkinson: That’s me. (he looks at the camera and points to himself.)

Piquery’s Voice: I admire your dedication to writing me 5 times a day, but…. I AM NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND! Please cease all communication unless absolutely necessary.  From the desk of President Picquery.

(The letter then ceases to speak and suddenly goes up in flames. The minister stares at the pile of ashes on his desk. His face is horrified and subtly embarrassed, but quickly remembers the camera and composes himself. He looks back up.)

Minister Parkinson: She’s such a jokester, we love to joke with each other. It’s the foundation of our relationship.

END OF INTERVIEW WITH MINISTER PARKINSON

(The scene goes back to the meeting where everyone is trying to deter the Minister from talking about President Picquery.)

Bridget: (She holds her hands around her mouth to cause an echoing effect.) Booo. Go Home.

Minister Parkinson: (He points to Bridget without looking at her.) That is not constructive. If I went home, the wizarding world as we know it would cease to exist.

Newt: (Looks confused) Sorry, Minister are you trying to say that if you didn’t come to work the entire wizarding community would just suddenly blow up?

Minister Parkinson: Newton, I’m not trying to say that. I AM saying that. Next question.  

(Newt looks at the camera, thinking about what the minister is trying to imply but ends up shaking his head and holding a hand up to the camera to advise them to move on.)

Y/N: I think what Bridget is trying to say is, we’re pretty sure that President Picquery and you are not dating, Minister.

Minister Parkinson: Well, if we’re not dating, then why did she send me a meeting request for later this week?

Tina: Minister, sir, I received one of those as well. It’s just to go over the most recent findings of the Grindelwald case.

Minister Parkinson: Sorry… you haven’t been working for us long have you?

Tina: No, sir.

Minister Parkinson: We could make it even shorter if you want… (His eyes stare at her threateningly.)

Tina: I-I mean maybe you two could go out for dinner after the meeting.

Newt: (To Tina) Oh Tina, don’t encourage him… it will only drive him further into dilution. (She turns her head slightly to smile at him for his comment.)

Biggles: Can we get back to the meeting people? I’d still like to get into the proper etiquette for farting in a room full of muggles.

Rodger: (sarcastically to Reader) Oh yes… now that sounds like an interesting topic. (You giggle at his joke, Newt hears this and instantly jumps at the chance to dig into Rodger.) 

Newt: Don’t worry Rodger, you do a good enough job clearing a room all by yourself.

(A low chorus of ‘Ohhhs’ echo in response to Newt’s comment and you instantly reach for Rodger to keep him seated as he looks over at Newt, who is raging inside.)

Rodger: What was the Salamander?

(The minister quickly interjects before Newt has time to turn around and repeat himself.)

Minister: Alright boys, let's calm our farts. (To Biggles) Continue.

(At the minister’s comment both are too shocked to disagree with him and both go back to ignoring each other. Tina leans into Newt, and whispers in his ear.)

Tina: What was that all about?

Newt: It’s nothing. (He says as he runs his hand over her shoulder and rests it there. He turns his head slightly to the side to see you get annoyed with Rodger for almost starting a fight. He smugly smiles at himself and the camera falls on Tina's concerned stare at Newt.)

INTERVIEW WITH TINA

Tina: (Looks around uncomfortably) So, you just want me to talk about the meeting? I mean, I don’t know. It’s certainly something we don’t do in the United States. The No-Maj department certainly doesn’t hold meetings about toilet humor. (pause) Newt? Yes, well it’s been great getting to spend more time with him. I’m looking forward to getting now know him better… (she nervously fidgets in her chair.) a lot better.

END OF INTERVIEW WITH TINA

Biggles: Listen up people… in the muggle world, there is no waving a wand for a quick fix. When you’re thirsty, you have to use a series of crude pipes to channel your water into a cup. Muggles… they’re the real heroes.

Milton: (blows air through his lips, in an unbelieving manner.)

INTERVIEW WITH MILTON

Milton: This meeting a joke. An erroneous meeting on all accounts. You know, I could be using this time in researching the whereabouts of Grindelwald at this exact moment. If I could be working, I’d be THIS much closer to finding that schlep of a wizard (he holds his hand up, using his pointer finger and thumb and putting them very close together, measuring a tiny amount. He squints his eyes to further show how tiny the impact would be. A moment later he puts his hand down and focuses back on the camera.) My career couldn't be going better. I've even taken it upon myself to… take on another classified case… one that’s happening right under our nose…and I’m the only competent wizard to solve it.  (The screen goes back to the meeting room and the camera shows Milton staring at Rodger and Reader who seem to be having a silent disagreement.) When I am not working, which, let's face it is rare, I am still courting my girlfriend, Angelica from the Auror office. We’re not able to spend a lot of time together, however we make sure to find time for each other. (Cutscene shows Angelica and Milton making out with each other on top of his desk, while Newt and Reader sit at their own desks and quickly rush out of the room in disgust. Cutscene ends.) (Milton smugly looks at the camera) Didn’t think I could be this successful and be a good lover? Well, think again. (He winks at the camera.)

END OF INTERVIEW WITH MILTON

Milton: Let's be honest people… the only reason we have “Muggle Appreciation day" (he makes air quotations) is because Biggles is older than dirt and we, for whatever reason, need to make him feel valued.

Biggles: (Looks offended) I'm not that old.

Milton: Biggles, some of Salamander’s creatures are younger than you.

Newt: (mumbles) Can't argue that. Not my name though…

Milton: (To Minister Parkinson) Minister, I feel that my time, which is MUCH more valuable than anyone here, would be better spent working on the Grindelwald case. As if I’m going to need to know the proper use of a soup ladle.

Biggles: … to scoop dirt…. Duh….

Minister Parkinson: That’s a good point, I think it might be time to call it a break (he calls to the rest of the room.) Wizards… let’s roll out.

(Everyone starts to pack up their things and head out the door. Claire is still sitting in her chair, mouth wide open and supposedly still sleeping.)

Y/N: Should someone get her?

Rodger: Just leave her, I’m not levitating her again. It takes too much effort to keep her afloat.

(Newt rolls his eyes at the camera as he walks out ahead of you with Tina.)

(The camera captures it’s attention on you. As you look up, you run a nervous hand through your slightly untidy hair. You’re physical appearance looks run down. Rodger gives you a quick kiss on the cheek without you noticing and hands you a cup. As the cup is put into your hands, you look down at it. You look back up at the camera as Rodger walks away.)

INTERVIEW WITH Y/N

Y/N: I’m just under the weather. I feel drained all the time. Some days I feel like I’m walking around in a fog. (You look around in the interview room and look back at the camera.) I’ve decided to stop taking that energy potion Rodger’s been giving me. He says they are good for me, but the less I have of it, the more I feel alive.

(Milton and you all walk into your shared office and take your respective seats. As you start to pick through the floating notices around your desk, you look over at the door to see Tina and Newt walk in. They converse and Newt looks over at you quickly. When he locks gazes with you, he instantly turns back to Tina. They said good-bye to each other and he gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead as she turns to go. You quickly turn away and go back to reading the memo in your hand.)

Y/N: It’s nice to see Newt with Tina. I have to say he’s been a little easier to work with. Except for the fact he still hates me and seems to make it his mission in life to get me fired. Tina seems like a very nice person, you know, If you’re into someone who has the personality of a cauldron.

END OF INTERVIEW WITH Y/N

Milton: (He looks up as Newt sits down at his own desk.) Can’t you keep intimacy out of the office? God, you treat this place like it was Knockturn Alley.

Newt: Why? Jealous, Milton?

Milton: (Defensively) No! For your information, I could get someone so much better looking than you.

Newt: Aww and there you go hurting my feelings again. Here I am thinking we had something special.

(You giggle at his joke and both Milton and Newt look up at you. You look back, scared you intruded on something you shouldn’t have.)

Newt: Y/N, please make sure you get those reports over to the aurors before we go back to the meeting.

(You sluggishly get up to collect the reports from Newt’s desk.)

Y/N: I’ll walk them there now.

Milton: (Starts laughing hysterically) Who are you? A ridiculous muggle? What an efficient employee you are by taking time to walk documents all the way across the ministry when you could just instantly send it there. Walking it there… honestly. Hey, Y/N, Be sure to walk us back a postcard from your travels. (He continues to laugh at his joke.)

(Newt looks back you as you take the notices, he can tell that Milton’s comments have affected you slightly. You both look at each other and you roll your eyes in Milton's direction. Newt turns back to him without another glance at you.)

Newt: Where did all this anti-muggle thinking come from, Milton? You’re starting to sound like a certain criminal wizard.

Milton: (Angrily perks up at the accusation.) I’m merely saying, why do things like Muggles when you have magic to do it the right way.

Newt: I think you feel that way because you know you couldn’t go a day without magic.

Milton: (offended) False. I could.

Newt: Then you should.

(You stand with the reports in your hand watching this play out between the two. You can’t help but feel that Newt is defending you from Milton and something in you takes a liking to it.)

Milton: Should what?

Newt: I bet you a million galleons, you couldn’t last a week without magic.

Milton: Then you are a bigger fool than I thought. I accept your challenge and I will come out victorious. You better ask Minster Parkinson for a raise because you’re going to need it.

(Newt holds out his hand confidently to Milton to sign his fate. Milton quickly takes it in order to make sure that he will not go back on his word. Newt smiles to himself and looks back up at you. You look down at him smiling at him until you realize he is not returning it. You stop.)

Newt: Y/N, the reports.

(You quickly go back to what you were doing and walk out of the office with the reports.) 

(The office is quiet. Everyone has gone home for the day. Newt stands at Milton’s desk, enchanting various necessary objects, and important memos to stick to the ceiling. You sit at your desk and run an exhausted hand through your hair. For a moment you look at Newt and watch him get childishly excited about his prank. In a split second you lose yourself to a daydream for the two of you laughing again. The image of his smile in your mind causes you to smiles boldly at him.)

(Newt catches that bright smile that he always loved on your face and for a second forgets all about his bitterness and smiles back.)

Newt: What’s causing that? (He points hesitantly to your smile.)

Y/N: (You are quickly brought back from the daydream and begin to get flustered.) Huh? Oh, nothing, just love how you’re so dedicated to proving him wrong.

Newt: (He looks down and tries his hardest not to smile.) Yeah, well. Beats writing another report about Grindelwald. (He continues his task and notices your normal teacup is filled to the brim.) You keeping that around for some reason? (He gestures towards your tea cup.)

Y/N: Oh yeah, no, I’m kind of over tea right now.

Newt: You’re over tea? Going to give it up, just like that?

Y/N: Yeah, I guess it’s not really for me anymore.

(The two of you look at each other as the metaphor of the conversation hangs in the air. The two of you lock eyes and the fog seems to be lifting from your mind. You can clearly remember the lasting sensation of his lips on yours.)

(Before either of you can say anything else a knock on the door interrupts your memories and Roger's voice can be heard.)

Rodger’s voice: Y/N, are you ready to go?

Y/N: Coming!

(You begin to collect your things. The reality of the situation returns to Newt and turns cold again. Before walking away from your desk, you turn back to Newt.)

Y/N: You know you should enchant his quills to write the opposite of everything.

Newt: Maybe… maybe you should just concentrate on your job and leave the prank to me.

(In an instant the mutual feeling between the two of you vanishes. Newt can see this change in you and against his better judgment calls to you again, causing you to turn back from the door.)

Newt: Y/N, get some rest. You look exhausted.

(You perk up and smile, Newt hated that his heart betrayed him by skipping a beat.)

Y/N: I know. I will. Thank you for looking out for me.

Newt: Sure, I mean, I wasn’t...well I merely need you to be in good working condition for tomorrow. I can’t have an assistant who can’t function.

Y/N: (Once against his words cut you down.) Thank you all the same. See you tomorrow.

(You turn back to the door and Newt turns to silently give himself a verbal beating. As you open the door you greet Rodger with a kiss on the cheek. He seems to be taken by surprise at this and quickly questions the change in affection.)

Rodger: Everything alright honey? Salamander giving you a hard time again?

Y/N: (Agitated) No, Rodger, it’s fine. Let’s just go, please.

Rodger: (He takes you by the arm and holds you still.) Is everything alright? Are you feeling okay? Did you take your energy potion tonight?

Y/N: (You forcefully brush his arm off of you and head to the office exit sign.Your response is annoyed and drained.) You know, I just didn’t feel like I need it tonight. I’d rather just get a good night’s sleep… ALONE.

(As you walk out the door without him, Rodger stands in the silent office corridor. His eyebrow furrows as he looks back at the tattered and damaged door of Newt’s shared office. Running a hand through his hair, he lets out a long annoyed sigh. Suddenly the door to the conference room opens and Claire walks out. She rubs her eyes and is caught off guard by an over exaggerated yawn. Rodger looks over at her unphased.)

Claire: Morning Rodger! Meeting over already?

Rodger: It’s 10pm, Claire.

Claire: Oh good! Quittin time it is.

(Claire pulls out of her pocket a detailed flask and takes a swift and linger shot from it. Rodger watches as she two slaughters out the doors and into the night, leaving him once again… all alone.)

[neelavery-blog]

01 / BASICS

Full Name: Neel Oliver Avery

Nicknames: None

Birthday: July 7th

Gender: Cisgender Male

Sexual Orientation: Undecided

Romantic Orientation: Undecided

Astrological Sign: Cancer

Spoken Languages: English

Birthplace: Chicago, Illinois

Relationship Status: Single

02 / PHYSICAL TRAITS

Hair Color/Style: Dark brown; usually kept at shoulder length; wears it in small ponytails and buns

Eye Color: Brown

Face Claim: Avan Jogia

Height: 5′10″

Tattoos: None 

Piercings: None 

Unique Attributes: A small scar that runs through his right eyebrow

03 / PERSONALITY TRAITS/TYPES

Positive Traits: Driven, Empathetic, Well Meaning, Hopeful, Kind

Negative Traits: Socially Awkward, Quiet, Self-deprecating, Insecure, Indecisive

Hobbies/Interests: Exy, Training, Running, Reading comic books

Major/Minor: After finishing all his general studies courses and coasting along without a declared major for as long as possible, he finally declared himself a History major with a minor in American Literature (only because he already had enough English credits, and he doesn’t mind reading.)

Insecurities: His relationship with his parents and where he stands, with them. His future and what it holds for him.

Quirks/Eccentricities: He picks at his nails and cuticles when he is nervous, plays with his hair a lot, loses every pair of sunglasses literally the day after he buys them, likes documentaries and podcasts and older music, hates the color yellow, prefers rainy weather

MBTI Type: ISFJ-T

Enneagram Type: Type 3: The Achiever

Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Temperament: Melancholic

04 / FAMILY & HOME

Immediate Family: Father - Rick; Mother - Tracy

Other Family: No siblings or maternal/paternal grandparents; no real knowledge of cousins/distant relatives

How do they feel about their family?: What a loaded question. On the surface, there’s nothing Neel wants or craves more than the approval and attention of his parents. However, deep down, things are more complicated. After both guardians forced Neel from their homes as a teenager (rendering him effectively homeless for most of high school), they’ve recently shown back up in Neel’s life now that he is close to graduating college and, hopefully, landing a (lucrative) spot on a pro Exy team. While, Neel knows both of his parents are really just looking for an easy way out for their own problems (i.e. - using his pro paychecks to pay their own bills, settle their own debts, etc.), a part of him simply cannot let go of the youthful naivety lurking in the corner of his mind, constantly whispering: “Just give them a chance.” So he ignores his better judgement and tears himself apart to please two people who, honestly, could give a shit less. More than anything, Neel wants a family. A real family: one that loves and accepts him unconditionally. Unfortunately, he’s not likely to find that in Rick and Tracy.

How does their family feel about them?: As stated above, neither RIck nor Tracy were ever really good parents. While Tracy did love her son, her brand of love involved a lot of guilt tripping: a lot of smothering Neel with problems that weren’t his to deal with. She forced her son to grow up too fast, to be a man, a listening ear, a provider - when he should have been a child, a teenager. Neel’s father, Rick, has really only ever seen him as an accessory in his life. A well loved belt, maybe. Something he wore consistently for a while, but then tired of and shoved to the back of his closet, only to dust it off again years later and try it on, determined to make it fit through belt loops that had grown too small. To Rick, Neel is a possession - something that shares his last name. Something to own. Which is important, because that means Neel’s success is his success. Neel’s triumphs are his triumphs. A big deal for a man who has none of either on his own. Both Rick and Tracy care little for Neel beyond what his success as an Exy player can provide for them. Of course, that won’t stop them from pretending otherwise. But the truth remains.

Pets: None; he does like dogs, though

Where do they live?: Stays in the dorms @ Fox Tower during the semester and switches between Rick and Tracy’s houses/apartments in Chicago during the summer

05 / THIS OR THAT

Introvert or extrovert? Introvert

Optimist or pessimist? Realist

Leader or Follower? Follower

Confident or Self-Concious? Self-Concious

Cautious or Careless? Cautious

Passionate or Apathetic? Passionate (now)

Book Smarts or Street Smarts? Street Smarts

Compliments or Insults? Neither

06 / FAVORITES

Favorite Color: Gray

Favorite Clothing Style/Outfit: Very, very casual. T-shirts and jeans. Lots of plain hoodies and windbreakers. Nikes and Adidas running shoes. Ball caps and Palmetto State tees.

Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: Not a huge music listener, but he does like classic rock and alt. rock, and enjoys even older stuff from the 40s and 50s (The Inkspots, Bing Crosby, etc.); he enjoys listening to podcasts of all kinds - esp. true crime and mystery

Favorite Movies: He likes documentaries (esp. ones based around historical events/wars/”how its made”), classic horror movies like JAWS and Nightmare on Elm Street, and suspense/thrillers like Gone Girl and Get Out

Favorite TV Shows: He doesn’t watch a lot of TV, but when he does its the Discovery Channel, the History Channel or Animal Planet

Favorite Books: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof by Tennessee Williams, East of Eden by John Steinbeck, Pet Cemetery by Stephen King, Christine by Stephen King, As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner

Favorite Foods/Drinks: Corn Chips, Fresh Salad, Chicken Noodle Soup, Green Tea

Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: There are other sports besides Exy? Other teams beside The Foxes? He had no idea...

Favorite Time of Day: Early morning, pre-dawn

Favorite Weather/Season: Rainy/Storms; Spring

Favorite Animal: Neel likes dogs

[theofficialcunt]

Simplicité - Chapter 11

[rockofeye]

Breathing Underwater

This is an important and poignant time of year for me. A handful of years ago, fresh out of a relationship and not really sure where I was going in life, I took an old friend who I had recently come back into contact with up on his invitation to attend a Haitian vodou ceremony at his initiatory mother’s house. I had almost no personal interest in vodou beyond a general ‘I have never seen this before, might as well expand my horizons and learn how other people live’. 

I attended, and the ceremony held no great awakening for me. It was good to expanding understanding of what other people did and it was fascinating to watch, but it wasn’t for me. I went to leave after the fete had ended with the sun rising, and found myself face-to-face with the Dead Man still in the head of the priestess in charge. I have been with you for a long time, he said with a serious look on his face. It’s about time you came to see me, and I’m happy that you’re here. Will you come and see me again?

When faced with what looks like a polite invitation from a spirit, it is best to answer with equal politeness. Of course, I said. It would be my pleasure.

I left knowing that I had been backed into a corner. Gede is invited to every ceremony which meant that, if I were going to honor my promise, I needed to keep showing up. The Dead Man plays the game better than most, but despite my continual attendance at ceremonies that year, I was resolute that I was just there to observe. I had no desire to practice and I did everything in my power to ignore my dreams and not lift a finger in the direction of developing a practice.

The following fet Gede, I found myself in front of the same Dead Man. He looked me in the eye and gently read me out for ignoring him for the previous year. Until you get right with me, you have nothing. I left that party feeling a bit like hamburger--this was the same fete maryaj had vigorously been proposed at--and arrived back to my apartment to find the door and surrounding wall covered with moths. Like, a blanket of moths. I stood there counting until I got to 100, and then I gave up and went to bed knowing that Gede was not fucking around.

I got right with him quick and what happened after was really the blossoming of one of the most beautiful relationships I have ever hoped to have. The Dead Man (and a few Dead Ladies) has become my staunchest advocate, my closest friend-consort, and a devoted parent. At every turn, I find him. On every corner, he waits for me. In every moment, I can hear his dry-as-a-bone cackle, if I listen.

As I got closer to kanzo, he was there more and more. He kept me out of the grave before I got in the djevo, and helped secure the funds to make sure it was not an impossible task. He kept me laughing--one of my fondest dreams is Gede showing up as a recently-dead Prince in the Purple Rain outfit on a purple motorcycle, asking me if I wanted to go for a ride--and kept me moving when I otherwise was hoping I would just be struck dead before I failed to get to Haiti.

After kanzo, he visited in a dream, appearing at a picnic that he attended in a perfect three piece suit complete with matching bowler hat and cane. You were a pain in the ass to get in the djevo, he said, eyeing my newly re-born self, but that’s all over now!

I owe him everything.

+++

It is transcendent to have your existence completely resting in the hands of your spirits. There are these moments of paralyzing fear that pop up and then melt away into the calmness that only comes when you know that the only way out is through their maneuverings. Divine providence provides a terrible sort of reassurance, but it is freeing in its own way. Everything I have comes from them, and they will continue to provide because none of my sacrifices have ever proven to be in vain.

There’s a lot in the air for me. After two years of continuous upheaval and a complete nuclear destruction of my life in pursuit of a life, I am working to put puzzle pieces into place. It’s not easy. In fact, it is one of the harder things I have done, probably second only to pushing the big red button that brought about my own personal apocalypse pre-kanzo. I walked from a career-defining job because the lwa said to,and recovering from that professionally is a challenge, especially in a specialized field. The job market is rough because a fascist three-yearold holds the highest office in the country, and funding is being hoarded in case he eliminates an entire branch of social services. It’s tough, but no one every promised me easy. I trust you, I tell them. I trust you because I have always trusted you, and you have never led me astray. Tell me what to do next.

We have a plan, they whisper back. Don’t worry.

The vigilant waiting is hard.

Sometimes I give in to the gnawing of the tiny gremlins. Everything is awful, they say, and you are drowning. When it is like that, I look back to who brought me to the door of the djevo and flung me inside, who has never left me without comfort, even when comfort took the form of painful truth.

Are you there, Dead Man? It’s me, Bonkira.

Under the big rock, he says with a toothy grin. It’s me!

The touch of death can be tender and gentle, like the care of a lover who finds you on the floor at 3AM because your boss is an asshole, the bills are too many, and that sushi was bad. I pray, and he fills me with grace and blessings. The suffering does not go on forever, he reminds me. You asked for big things and that takes time. He stands over me with calm patience, and lets me use him like a ladder, clawing at his suit to leverage myself up. You can’t know how much you don’t see right now.

It is human to feel terror beside the knowledge that everything will be fine and that you have the biggest insurance policy that money cannot buy. He knows humanity, and still has the taste of it in his mouth. He knows suffering, and can share it.

I don’t know what comes next, I tell him. Sometimes I am wobbly like a toddler with brand new legs. What do I do, beloved? Show me the way out.

The dead have answers for days. An answer to suit every occasion. An answer that matches every hat and comes with it’s own pair of broken sunglasses. An answer that opens every door, and answer that can turn the key in the lock and close off everything. An answer to make you scream and an answer to make you moan and an answer to make you laugh.

This is who I am, he says, and shows me things. This is how you love me.

[thisislizheather]

February Feats 2020

I write this from underneath two blankets, perched atop three pillows. This is day three of being sick (Nathan just joined me in illness yesterday) and I think I’m getting better but that could just be blind hope. In any case, I still have to tell you what went on last month. Forgive the tone of this post, it might be… affected.

I heard that Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker are going to be in the Paul Simon play Plaza Suite together and so I casually thought “Ooo, might be nice to catch” so I looked it up and tickets START at $700. So I guess fuck me then. I swear to god, this fucking city.

The best cover so far this year:

Above Photo: Brian Stauffer, The New Yorker

I rewatched a movie I love: The Door In The Floor and it really holds up well. Kim Basinger and Jeff Bridges and both too good at what they do. Love this movie so much.

I rewatched The Evil Dead and look I understand it’s probably a “good horror movie” especially for its time and budget, but I fucking hated it, maybe even more so than the last time that I saw it. Never again. Why do I keep rewatching things that I hate? I don’t have to like everything. I must repeat this to myself daily.

I had lunch at Daily Provisions and their lemon cruller was really good and light and the chicken club sandwich was good, too. Always a solid morning/afternoon place.

Favourite tweets of the month.

I tried Trader Joe’s Whole Wheat Couscous and maaaaan, it was so good. So I guess all couscous is good? Gotta get my hands on that pearly couscous. That seems like the money cousocus.

I made this Greek Couscous Salad for lunches for a week and didn’t get sick of it at all, I gotta remember to keep this in the rotation. I also kept the salad and the couscous separate until I wanted to eat, and then I’d join them together.

I can’t believe I hadn’t seen this sketch before (calling someone a “goofy bitch” just about killed me), also ignore how bad an actress Cardi B is.

I finished watching The Good Place and yes it was a good show. I don’t think l liked it as much as pretty much everyone else in my life who loved it, but it was definitely a good show. This scene was the best part of the finale, for sure. That song used in the scene will always elicit tears, I remember falling in love with it when it was used in the movie that everyone hated but me, Swept Away.

Again, I visited Everlane and it still disappoints. Why do I keep thinking it’ll be different each time? What the fuck is wrong with me?

I saw Parasite and it was wonderful and everyone who hasn’t seen it should see it. I haven’t heard from one person who didn’t like it. Universally liked!

I listened to the new Strokes single and hated it, so that’s something. Growth?

I haven’t seen the whole episode yet, but I really liked RuPaul’s SNL monologue.

Why isn’t everyone putting pickles on grilled cheese? Makes no sense. Fucking taste explosion.

I finally tried the (off-menu, must be requested when it’s not brunch) Cacio E Pepe at L’Artusi and holy christ, it might be better than their mushroom ragu. I KNOW. Such wild developments! (They also started serving at lunch, but only lunch delivery, not dine-in. SO this means nothing to me.)

I think I will officially stop buying candles from Bath & Body Works. The ones at Marshalls are cheaper, last longer and the variety of scents is endless. I have a candle from Marshalls right now simply called STORM and it really does kinda smell like stormy weather. Obviously I’m waiting for a thunderstorm to light that mother. I have mental issues?

I watched the newest season of Shrill (no big spoilers ahead) and loved it, obviously. The disappointing-ness of parents is so nicely shown (that moment at the restaurant when she asks her dad what he thinks of her boyfriend and he’s so indifferent, ugh so perfect), I absolutely LOVED the wedding episode (infact all of the episodes following that one are the best ones, I think I just love the episodes not centered about this not-great relationship with her and her boyfriend), the WEHAM episode is perfect (finally someone making fun of makeup for for legs), and I continue to love the character Fran. Really hoping for a third season, especially based on the season finale.

Don’t ask me why, but I watched most of the Police Academy movies and I think the Miami one might be the best one?? I couldn’t make it twenty minutes into the Moscow one, so I feel like you might want to trust me when I say that I know what I’m talking about.

These are my new favourite leggings of all time, they feel like you’re wearing nothing at all.

Cannot get over the beauty of these women and these outfits.

Above Photo: Camila Mendes

Above Photo: Nyma Tang

I watched the Michelle Carter documentary and I don’t know how other people feel, but it’s absolutely unreal that she was found guilty. Of course Nathan disagrees.

I ate at Frank for the first time in over a decade with the one and only Irene and it’s still great. Love that they do the opposite of al dente pasta here. Photos below.

Above Photo: Tagliatelle special, at Frank

Above Photo: Roasted garlic bread, at Frank

Above Photo: Mushroom pappardelle special, at Frank

I can’t find a link for them online, but I bought some reusable Leak Proof Snack Bags by Kitchen Details at Nordstrom Rack and they’re perfect since we typically use a million of those disposable ones for holding sunflower seeds and almonds

I threw out a lot of clothing/shoes/bags, so I went out and bought some things that I absolutely love. I now have a faux fur, brown evening coat that I’ve long dreamed of owning, a new everyday purse, a vintage, gold, mesh evening purse, new everyday shoes, more sunglasses and some new wedges that may or may not replace the older wedges I’ve had since 2006 (the ones lovingly referred to as my Terminators because of the massive fall that I took in them upon exiting the movie Terminator Salvation). I could show you all of the new pieces, but I’d much rather slide into a room you’re in to show you my new fur coat. However if it annoys you not to see any of these new things that bring my joy, here are two of them.

Above Photo: Classic Reeboks from DSW

Above Photo: I also got them in blue

I’ve actually started using tiny drops of facial oil mixed with my nighttime face lotion and even though I’ve only just started to do this, my face is already way less dry when waking up. I don’t know if I can do this in the hotter weather, but for now I’ll keep it up.

I know all of these are old songs, but I recently heard and fell in love with this Taylor Swift song. And this one. And this one. Oh and this one too.

I went to Giorgio’s of Gramercy again (the last time was a few years ago with Nathan) and it’s still great! I haven’t had a steak in awhile, but the one here? Holy hell. Magnificent.

I went to see the new Kubrick 2001 exhibit at the Museum of the Moving Image and it was pretty neat. They have one of his Oscars on display in a case, which was actually really cool to see.

I read and reviewed a biography of Johnny Carson that truly sucked.

So Nathan and I are in the middle of watching McMillion$ and can I just say: boooooooooooooooo. I’ve never seen a “documentary” more over-produced, self-indulgent, superfluous and WILDLY overdone. It’s a bloody six part series that could’ve EASILY been an hour and a half movie. If you ever need proof of a documentary having too much money spend, my god have you found it. Of COURSE Mark Wahlberg has something to do with it, this man needs to fucking STOP. I know they are countless other men attached to the project too, but it’s much easier to shit on just him. God, what a waste of time. The Wikipedia page is more succinct.

I watched To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before 2: P.S. I Still Love You and it was everything I wanted it to be and more. Loved the Adventures in Babysitting reference right off the top (I’ll forever love that movie and it doesn’t get talked about enough), I loved pretty much every musical choice (these are my top three songs from the movie), and I loved the idea of doing another Thanksgiving in March (although I’m pretty sure Chrissy Teigen did this a few years ago and planted that great seed in my head). Definitely the best thing on Netflix at the moment.

Seeing this restored footage of NYC in 1911 is both exciting and eerie as hell, for some reason.

Nathan and I went to the Raptors game that ended their winning streak, sorry about that.

I’ve been consumed with reading so much stuff about what’s going on right now and this was a little helpful: 4 Practical Ways to Prepare Your Home for a Pandemic. Don’t judge me for sharing this link! I’m delirious.

Things that I’m looking forward to this month: visiting Collingwood and going skiing with my family, I might splurge and get that mini birthday cake from Momofuku Milk Bar, and the new season of On My Block comes out on the 11th. I’m pretty into the idea of turning 35, usually I’m more jacked about my birthday month but I think I’m too down to care at the moment. Caring coming soon.

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in January over here.