Eliot, I stole you a train. Have a little faith.
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@feathery-thing
Eliot, I stole you a train. Have a little faith.
Youāve laughed and said āIt would probably take a Girl smacking me with a poster saying āI like Youā for me to get the hint.ā The next day, your best friend walks up to you and hits you on the head with a poster board that says āI like youā
WHY DOES THIS NEVER HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE
SOMEONE BONK ME ON THE HEAD
dude stop before i develop a strange and powerful fondness for you
Iām not falling for the propaganda trying to tear apart the LGBTQ acronym, you can pry this community out of my cold dead hands. I love lesbians I love gay men I love bisexuals I love trans people I love nonbinaries and drag queens and kings I love asexuals I love the kinky people at pride I love all queerness get that divisive shit away from me Iām so serious
Just kinda unfortunate the Good Omens fandom was a comfort fandom to me for the past three years after other fandoms Iāve been in turning awful and now the Good Omens fandom is doing the exact same. Tiring.
This gif sums up how it feels rn
Eliot saw a day that he could spend fishing with Hardison and get that man some fresh air to go along with it and instead theyāre handcuffed running through the woods and this is not what Eliot wanted
Obsessed that Eliot can canon sing
Zohran Mamdani is using New York City to show the world how progressive policies work for everyone. #DemocraticSocialist
Me: *Removes my cat from my lap to do something else.*
My cat: Father isā¦evil? Father is unyielding? Father is incapable of love? I am running away. I am packing my little rucksack and going out to explore the world as a lone vagabond. I can no longer thrive in this household.
The spiritual successor to Miette
Might I also add
May i add the piece from artist Verbal Vomit
Glad to see weāre all in agreement that cats talk like disparaged victorian children
I am so incredibly glad we finally moved on from āi can hasā. Cats are clearly smart enough for advanced sentence structure and dumb enough to draw entirely incorrect conclusions about what theyāre talking about.
My cat, banging the cabnet door over and over and over: bang bang bang
Me: you will not earn what you desire by banging the cabinet door.
My cat: This is a test of wills, is it not? We shall see if your ability to put up with my incessant banging outlasts my eternal lust for snackie treats. Years of conditioning have hardened me for this purpose. bang bang bang
Me: ksst!
My cat, throwing herself to the ground like sheās been shot: Oh! Oh I have been assailed in my own home! Have mercy, have pity! Surely in the cruel darkness of your heart there is some mote of goodness that might stay your hand! Do not strike me, I pray you!
Me: ok
My cat, after waiting about 3 minutes: bang bang bang
Can haz snackytreat
(source)
Source
This post is the most reblogged post of the year! Congratulations!
youāre absolutely correct it was
Hell yeah
hardison wakes up early this morning from another nightmare where he was buried alive again. itās been a while since the last one, so this oneās getting to him more than usualāshaky hands, pounding heart, cold sweat on his brow. parkerās awake and all over him instantly, of course: she scoops him in close and tickles her nails over his scalp and tells him heās okay, sheās here and sheās with him and everythingās okay, and he should squeeze her as tight as he can, itāll help. he doesnāt have to worry about hurting her, she can handle it. so hardison does squeeze her tight, to the point that parker wonders if he might leave bruises; sheād like that, honestly, the imprint of hardisonās hands on her as he grips at her waist. itād remind her of how she took care of him and how much he trusts her. he squeezes and squeezes and squeezes until his arms burn with the effort, and then he finally loosens his grip with a heavy exhale. parker tells him there, thatās it, he did so good, and hardisonās eyes prickle with tears because just like that, he feels about 50% better. parkerās really a bit of a miracle worker isnāt she? itās wild.
eliot doesnāt make it in to the bedroom until after hardisonās mostly calmed down because he was in the kitchen working on breakfast (heād stopped by to grab a sweatshirt), but when he sees hardison all bundled up in parkerās arms, he joins the two of them and sandwiches hardison in tight. no one moves or says anything until eliot regrettably has to get up because he needs to put the casserole in the oven. parker and hardison end up following him out because hardison wants to move to the couch, and he says itās because he wants to watch parker play video games as a distraction but itās also because he doesnāt want to be as far from eliot as heād be in the bedroom. parker plays some tears of the kingdom because she likes finding and rummaging through caves, and jumping off sky islands so she can plummet to the ground and pull out her paraglider only at the very last second, and making link eat dubious food just because she thinks itās funny. hardisonās glued to her side the whole time, head on her chest and an arm over her stomach and one of her legs squeezed between his own. heās half-watching, the other half of his attention on the up and down of parkerās chest beneath his cheek as she breathes, the warmth of her body. it brings him back to the present every time his thoughts try to run off. now parkerās down in a well and sheās trying to sneak up on some lizards; much like in real life, sheās good at sneaking around in games. he usually manages to scare the lizards off, but she catches them every time.
eliot drifts in eventually with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast; normally heād discourage snacks before breakfast because he doesnāt want anyone to ruin their appetite, but he can tell hardisonās shaken and the casserole still has half an hour left, so toast it is. man needs to keep his strength up. when he drops it off on the coffee table, he also takes a brief moment to rub a soothing hand over hardisonās thigh and lean down to kiss his temple. hardison finds his fingers and clutches them tight and asks him to stay, and he debates for a second before he figures eh, what the hell. heās cleaned up all his dishes for now and thereās nothing to do but let the casserole bakeāthereās no reason for him not to linger. so he sits himself down on the couch and scooches in to sandwich hardison again, and when hardison clearly relaxes at his presence, his heart clenches. he canāt not encourage that with a kiss to the nape of hardisonās neck and an arm wrapping around him so he can rub a hand over hardisonās stomach now instead. a sigh, and hardison clearly melts further into parkerās side, and back into him too. thank god. thingsāll be okay, eliot has no doubt about thatāheāll get some food in hardison, get him back on the couch, make sure he doesnāt get up for the rest of the day. and parker will undoubtedly help him with all of it because sheās as particular about that kinda stuff as he is. woman can fuss like nobodyās business. which is perfect for situations like this. theyāll get hardison all taken care of, no problem. heāll be okay in no time.
parker snatches another lizard, and not for the first time, she laments that she canāt eat them just by themselves. eliot says well lizards arenāt food, sweetheart, thatās probably why, and parker says but itās a video game and youāre supposed to be able to do anything in video games, and i want to eat a lizard. then she goes on to start listening all of the other things she should be able to eat on account of this being a video game (gemstonesātheyād taste like jolly ranchers; creature eyeballsāmochi; creature hornsābugles; beetlesātheyād crunch like the critters in the lion king; you get the picture), and this is where hardison starts to drift off. he knows it wonāt be long because breakfast is coming soon, but thatās okayāitāll be nice just to close his eyes for a bit. and to listen to parker complain. he thinks sheās right, honestly. he would never eat an eyeball or a beetle, but let link do whatever the hell he wants. let him slurp down a lizard tail. no rules just right, baby. maybe he could mod the game for her, actually⦠now thatās a thought. that could be his project for the day, something else for his thoughts to focus on. and if he does good and gets lucky, maybe parker will even love him forever. just kiddingāhe knows she already does. and eliot too. speaking of which, eliot can he have his toast plā ah, thank you. mm, thatās good. the famous spencer sourdough. can he just have toast for breakfast, actually? kidding, just kidding. heās excited for the casserole. yes, he promises. he canāt wait. (the nightmare is miles away now. he can hardly even remember it. all he knows is how lucky he is to have these two in his life.)
@Tom Galloway:Ā One minor hitch in the fun train; I got the impression that the miner came to the team, not them finding out about the problem and contacting him. So now random folk from small, usually socially isolated, backwoods towns 500 or so miles away known about the Leverage crew and how to contact 'em? These guys are almost as easy to find as the A-Team! : -)
This is funny, because I had lunch with the fabulously talented and amusingĀ Matt NixĀ the other day, and as we genially gave each other shit about our shows, the clients finding theĀ LeverageĀ team was one of his bugaboos. However, heĀ admiredĀ it: "'How did you find the team?' Who gives a shit? We'reĀ Leverage!Ā 'Why do you trust these people?' WHO GIVES A SHIT?! WE'REĀ LEVERAGE!"
At the same time, if I had to write what he had to write every week, I'd put a gun in my mouth. "Michael, my Yoga instructor's second cousin's niece got involved with meth dealers. You have to help her."
We actually did, way back when, write an explanation of how Leverage found the clients. It was in "Homecoming", where Hardison explained how his new tech setup scoured legal aid websites, headlines, etc, for potential clients, then contacted them through proxies. Not sure if it ever made it on the air. To tell you the truth, Matt's right -- who gives a shit? Our job as pulp writers is to deliver you the most interesting moments from the case of the week. We dug in early that we'd never reveal the client process, for both that reason -- it's boring -- and for a larger philosophical reason. We always wanted the audience members to feel like, at any time, the Leverage team could swoop in and helpĀ them. Details in this case would accomplish nothing but disillusionment.
"We've all got to be fighting that fight every day."
Happy Pride, everyone...
What if human astronauts visit Erid one day and are doing diplomatic things and whatnot and they learn Ryland Grace is sstill alive and is in a terrarium. One of the astronauts jokingly says āyouāre not experimenting on him are youā and the Eridians freeze cause yeah, they totally are. They experiment on him all the time. Theyāre experimenting on him right now in fact. They read about deep sea diving and are now testing the effects of replacing certain gases in Graces atmosphere. Right now theyāre testing helium.
They send someone to stop the experiment but Grace refuses cause theyāre so far in already and well that would just ruin the data.
The new humans think this is hilarious and insist on joining the experiment as Grace excitedly yaps about all the cool stuff heās learned about aliens but heās still got that high pitched helium voice.
charlie and bosco hyping up june's parkour is the same as eliot and hardison fist bumping about parker's acrobatics
love eliot being like āharry choke that guy outā and harry, having no idea how to choke someone out, is just like āokie dokieā
Oh, what I would pay to know what was going on in the heads of Interpol agents in the Frame Up Job, like imagine being in their shoes: you come to an estate sale because a never-before-seen painting of a famous artist got stolen, probably a standard affair in their business. But then you watch your boss, the infamous James Sterling, completely spiral over the course of one afternoon because a couple has him absolutely wrapped around their fingers.
One second, he pins them as prime suspects on sight; the next, he's working alongside them to solve the case. The man (who faked being an undercover Interpol agent, by the way) says the guy whose estate is being solved was actually murdered? Well, in that case, it's got to be murder!
Quickly, you concluded that the butler did it; all is well and good. You recovered the mystery stolen painting (with the help of a couple you're growing surer by the second are some flavour of criminals, but Sterling seems to be chill with that fact, so it's probably fine). Now all that's left to do is to tag it as evidence and wrap this whole thing up - oh, what did you say? Your boss's rival(?)-turned-suspect-turned-partner-turned-general-pain-in-the-ass vaguely implied that something about their procedure might be a little bit iffy? Apparently, that alone is enough to send Sterling into an absolute frenzy, demanding that everything be double-checked twice over.
No, wait, 5 minutes later, the couple is back, confessing to stealing not one but two paintings, but only for like, a little bit, so they could do some backyard vodka-paint test. And they're claiming all of the paintings in the collection are fake. That's got to be the breaking point, right? We're arresting them! Never mind, we're back on their side, working with them to figure out what the hell is going on.
After a too-long day, you figure it all out (well, not you, the criminal duo does, but you're just so fed up with the case, you don't even particularly care). The curator did it and then accidentally died in pursuit, but at least you got an answer. You need a drink. You need to return to England, away from this circus, so your boss can start acting semi-normally again.
And then comes the next morning, and Sterling is trotting right back to the estate to arrest a 3rd person in the case, because even though he says he hates their guts, apparently, the second the criminal couple calls, he will come right back to them like a trained dog.
*slaps roof of edit* this bad boy has so much doomed space yaoi in it, you have no idea.
UGHHHHH I CANNOT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE