#agecfthegeek

[saintfvck]

Bubblegum pink jump drives are not exactly the same as crisp benjamins but Jude piles them on the table like he’s handing over chips at a high-limit casino and you know? You’re fucking welcome, man.

“It’s all there,” he’s chewing gum that smells suspiciously like nicorette with a bitter nicotine staleness washing over every word shared. Jude sort of knows, too, that this isn’t exactly the best thing to be mashing between your teeth when you’re trying to speak soft and hold a private conversation. In a minute he’ll cover the smell up with a shot of rumplemintz.

It’s not much better.

“Not that I think it’ll do you any good but, eh,” his shoulders rise and then slump. His worries must slide right off a slope like that. “Oh, shit. Sorry, you want a drink man?”

So here’s what’s happening: this is a meeting between two guys who have only ever seen the others avatars on some almost-dark-web forum for people toeing the line between fucked up browser history and REALLY fucked up browser history. Some of these people can explain, though. Jude is part of the some. It’s possible the guy sitting across from him is part of the some too but Jude doesn’t care as long as he gets what he needs which, simply put, are answers.

And the jump drives that are a sickening shade of pepto? Magic, baby. Literally.

(He can’t tell yet if this guy think Jude was serious about this offer. Maybe he needs to prove it. Only time will tell.)

@agecfthegeek

[retrievalor-blog]

Eliot doesn’t understand why everyone’s gotta get their coffee fix at Jitters. It ain’t no Starbucks, true, but it’s a bit of a stretch for that place to be boasting they’ve got the best cup of joe in town. Of course, he’s a small town boy, born and raised to know who runs all the mom-and-pop shops. It’s just sheer force of habit that pulls him towards the tiny hole in the wall that roasts their beans over an open fire.

Every time Eliot stops by, he sees the wok hanging on the wall, waiting to be buttered for another batch. 

Red lanterns still hang from the corners, a leftover from Chinese New Year’s. Candied treats sit at the front counter, inviting anyone to help polish them off. Eliot helps himself to some of the dried lotus root, noting that the pumpkin seeds were relatively untouched. A small shrine sits at the back of the cafe with a small offering of tangerines and incense.

He says his “hello”s and grabs a copy of the paper, flipping right towards the sports section. Nothing really catches his interest but he’s got time to kill. His contact doesn’t wake up before noon for anything less than a grease fire (don’t ask him how he knows this).

Mr. Lau brings him a cup in his favorite ceramic mug, the one that has a pug wearing a chef’s hat on the side. Eliot has himself a sip and turns to the next page. The little inked dots blur for a second before coming back into focus. Yet another attempted robbery was thwarted by the likes of The Flash. No surprise there.

Eliot thumbs over the headline of that article, reminiscing of the times both Hardison and Parker roped him into one of their movie marathons. Every now and again, even Sophie and Nate joined in.

Superheroes are real. They’re real and they’re in a league of their own, fending off threats in a league of their own. If it wasn’t so damn risky, hell, Eliot would call up Vance and ask him for his opinion.

But he doesn’t need a second opinion to know that he’s not, nor will he ever be, a hero - super or not. Just because you risk your life for your country, for your family, doesn’t make you a good person. There’s more to it than just making sacrifices. There’s nuance and depth and a heart beneath it all.

Eliot lowers the paper and sees him walk in: A blast from the past. Out of respect, he reaches up and removes the beanie on his head and drops it in his lap.

“When did you find me?” Because it was only a matter of time, not how.

@agecfthegeek

[hittcr-a]

@agecfthegeek

                “look, my job ain’t to make nice with you.” they weren’t supposed to be friends. he wasn’t supposed to be invited to eat lunch with  his employer... or... his mark... or... the line was getting a little more blurred than eliot ever thought that it would. it wasn’t supposed to get blurred. he wasn’t supposed to see hardison as a friend. how could he not when he treated him like a person instead of someone who just was supposed to save his ass. eliot glanced over hardison’s appearance for a moment. he looked nice. the party was supposed to be black tie, of course he looked nice. eliot tied his hair back and smoothed the front of his suit down.                 “’m just supposed to keep you safe.” that was his job. and he was damn good at it. especially since he was in the pocket of the man who would probably try to kill him in the first place. “so. that means no dancin’.” he offered a small smile as he tightened his own tie and gestured towards the door. he’d ordered a car around a while ago, it should be out front. they should be going. obidiah, no doubt, would want to have a little chat. which meant leaving hardison alone for a little while. he should be fine, but eliot couldn’t help feeling that obidiah would know that the will and desire to take out hardison when the time was right had waned.                  and if that was the case, hardison wouldn’t be making it if he wasn’t there. at his side. at all times. eliot glanced one last time around the lavish lobby and moved to hold the door. “let’s go. we’re already late. all the good snacks’ll be gone.” 

[whatarewestealing]

What Goes Well With Pretzels?

        Saying Parker was a touch obtuse with Emotional Matters was a gross simplification of a complex thing. All right, yes, it had taken her a good long time (and a train explosion) to get comfortable with Hardison’s feelings for her, but she could, in her usual way, be very perceptive as well. Plus she had all the bluntness that made her very adept at cutting through the emotional static others sometimes had to deal with. There was also that quick mind that occasionally made large jumps, leaving most others behind. 

All these things came together in the moment that she tumbled into the spot next to Harison on the couch. One of his Space Things was playing (had she cared to pay attention, she dutifully would have recognized which one, but her mind was on other things), so she felt even less bad than usual for interrupting him -- he’d seen it like twenty times already. “What goes well with Pretzels?” she started, before making one of those jumps as she went on, “Because I think we should date Eliot.”

[alittlemcyhem]

@agecfthegeek

It wasn’t the same anymore. No John, no Harold, no Root. Thankfully she still had Fusco and Bear, but even then, there was only so much time she could spend in Lionel’s company before the urge to shoot him surfaced, and Bear, while he was the best dog a girl could ask for, didn’t quite help with the communication side of things. In recent months, Shaw had been handling the numbers on her own for the most part, unless she needed Fusco’s help with some legal issue. It was repetitive and boring, though after the past several years, Shaw was okay with that.

The idea of other teams running around and having their own little crews in various cities around the world was something Shaw still wasn’t sure on. She’d been immersed in the intelligence world for so long that all of this transparency was something she was still learning to navigate. But the Machine was still there, guiding her through the day and breaking her out of the momentary lapses in reality she still struggled with. 

Months had passed since the final showdown with Samaritan, and Shaw was just finally feeling settled with everything when the Machine decided that She needed to send her to Portland. Why, she wasn’t sure. After all, Shaw was almost confident that the Machine had teams on the west coast, so why She needed Shaw specifically to make a cross-country flight. It was almost like having the old Machine back again, with only minimal details and cryptic messages until Shaw ended up in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse. 

She ventured in slowly, even though the Machine chirped in her ear that there were no threats. It wasn’t easy to shed years of training at the behest of an artificial intelligence, no matter how much she trusted in the Machine these days. Still, She was right. There was nothing of note, at least not until she reached the back room which seemed to have been converted into a makeshift hospital room. Her arm went limp as she recognized the figure in the bed, hair brushed back so the scar from her cochlear implant was clearly visible. She was just about to take a step towards her when she heard the door open behind her.

Immediately, Shaw whirled around, gun raised and pointing directly at center mass of the man who’d entered. He hardly looked like a Samaritan operative but Shaw didn’t trust the looks of anyone. “You have five seconds to give me a good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you,” she growled. That familiar anger and rage was rising in her body, and she grasped onto it even as her mind whirled with all sorts of possibilities. Of how this might be another simulation, another lapse in reality. But Root was here and breathing ( with the help of a machine ), and Shaw wasn’t willing to give that up so easily.

[milehighmechanic]

ALSO LISTEN you mentioned re-reading old threads and i almost told you to talk about frolic

SEND ME A URL AND I’LL WRITE SOME POSITIVITY FOR IT. ( ACCEPTING )

ok listen mandy, frolic was definitely one of the ppl i was thinking of when i made that post. as i said, there are a lot of amazing ppl who are now no longer around who i miss a lot (and i totally understand that ppl move on from rp and these characters and there’s nothing wrong with that at all, but i still miss them)

but frolic is very high at the top of that list, because we wrote some Amazing things together and the plots we came up with were insane and brilliant but mostly because they were so friendly and supportive and i loved chatting with them about our characters. frolic made me care about fandoms and characters i knew nothing about!

and imma tag @weaknessforgallantry-blog  @agecfthegeek-blog in the hope they might see, just because i hope they’re doing okay!

[mastermcnd]

👫

1. Nate had seen a lot of old Doctor Who when he met Hardison, but not nearly as much new Doctor Who seeing as it aired right around the time his life was starting to fall apart. They proceeded to marathon some of the newer episodes whenever they had the time.

2. Nate took Hardison to the 50th anniversary Doctor Who special in theaters. He was even talked into putting on an old Tom Baker 4th Doctor scarf.

3. Nate used to love old sci-fi movies. Hardison helped him to get back into them.

4.  Nate has more than once had to actively force Hardison to lie down and take a breath every time he starts to get sick. Half of the time Hardison isn’t that sick Nate’s just super conscious of the rest of the crew getting sick.

5. Nate is dying to meet Hardison’s nana 

[hittcr-a]

agecfthegeek replied to your post: On a scale of 1 to 10 how proud of Sophie were you...

“Y'all this is so rude. SO RUDE. I cannot even believe – I – how dare you–”

“better her punchin’ yah than me.”