#kinda yeah

[wasteland-wrecker]

Go my silly shitpost 🫴

[callmekatydid]

Ok but are you rabbit symbolism in a Watership Down, “All the world will be your enemy, Prince of A Thousand Enemies, and when they catch you, they will kill you, but first they must catch you,” kind of way, or are you rabbit symbolism in a The Velveteen Rabbit, “Real isn’t how you’re made, it’s a thing that happens to you. It doesn’t happen all at once. You become, but once you are real you can’t become unreal. It lasts for always,” kind of way?

[hazmatmaid]

She continues to ask difficult questions of her poor dad.

[buttercupshands]

I love how the more simplified version of the current Shadow Milk is following his usual silhouette

This is a very simple sketch, but I really wanted to draw it with the differences still making sense with how I usually draw him

[enby-opera]

Urara: *spends last two chapters lowkey crushing on Leiji*

Leiji:

No he just a bit gay

[transingthoseformers]

Bots don't necessarily need to die in order to get innermost energon, right?? And, amongst some select bots, innermost energon is a delicacy/druglike even, right?

There's nefarious acts one can accomplish there

[kattozilla-blog]

here is wood man in a completely wooden room completely by his own will i swear. dont mind the fireplace <3

@afellocndn lmao i made it the saw trap thing <///3

[dapper-nahrwhale]

(Set during The Experimental Job, just a little moment between the ot3 when Parker brings the jackets)

Around 700 words under the cut:

“It's cold.” Parker hisses under her breath, fogging up in a cloud.

“Of course it's cold,” Eliot grumbles through chattering teeth into his earpiece, “I told you it's like 20 degrees down here.”

“Yeah, I know I just wasn't expecting it.”

“Parker.” He growls in a warning.

“Hurrying.” The eye roll he just knows she's giving him transcends the earpieces.

At least Hardison's stopped complaining about his half of hell week long enough to rig up a handful of button cams to old jackets.

[read it here on ao3]

“Hey, Eliot you good man?” And here comes the geek. Great. At least Sophie and Nate had the decency to go to sleep if they weren't going to help.

“Peachy.” Talking was starting to hurt his very clenched cold jaw.

Then Hardison starts rambling.

“You know I don't mean anything by the whole, uh hell week torture thing right? I just, I know they're around you too, and it's definitely worse what with the actual torturing of people with PTSD, and it's so creepy being around these dudes who are exploiting it for the CIA or something-”

“Hardison. Shut it.” He wasn't mad, not really, just a little peeved he hadn't slept in half a week.

But it's not even close to breaking his record for days without sleep.

Doesn't mean he has to enjoy the torture. Well, some of it he kind of does. Psyching out the guy who's supposed to be torturing him, that was kind of fun.

But the rest of it, hearing the guys around him screaming and howling and breaking. That wasn't so fun.

“Parker, you almost done the delivery yet?” He doesn't want her to stay here any longer than she has to. She doesn't have to.

“Almost. Got one left.” Her voice echoes in his ear and just outside his cell.

“Ok, just be quick.” The door opens silent as Parker always does.

“Dammit, Parker, not me the other guys. I don't need no button cam.”

Eliot is wrapped up right in the thin burlap sheet he has.

Parker gives him an incredulous look at that.

“Uh, yeah Eliot that ain't gonna do here. If you freeze to death, that's on all our asses, babe.” Hardison says in his ear.

“I ain't gonna freeze to death. It's cold, not that cold.” He's still shivering as Parker swiftly crosses the tiny room and wraps the last jacket around him.

“The human body can survive up to 6 hours of -20 degrees fahrenheit.” Parker jumps in not very helpfully.

“Thanks Parker.” Eliot and Hardison say in sync.

“Look-” Eliot attempts to say.

“Hypothermia has been known to happen even in the high 40s,” Parker delightedly says, “it can cause extensive nerve damage and brain damage.”

“Don't sound so excited about that. It's weird.” He shrugs her arm off of him.

“Symptoms include uncontrollable shivering.” She lists off.

“Pale cold skin.” Hardison chimes in.

“Check.” Parker pokes at his nose. Cold.

“Drowsiness and confusion.” Poking at his forehead.

“Parker.” He slurs through his teeth.

“Weakness and loss of coordination.” Parker jabs at his chest, and he can hardly even bat her hand away like a kitten.

“Quit it.”

“Shallow breathing and heart rate.” Hardison says.

“Yep. Check and check.”

“Will you two quit it.” Eliot growls, and even that burst of energy wipes him out.

“Now, I don't normally do this but. It should help.” And Parker gives him the stiffest, most awkward robotic hug he's ever had.

Thing is, it actually does help.

“You really ok with this Hardison.” He brings himself to mumble. He keeps his arms tight at his sides.

“If I weren't here, I'd be doing the exact same thing dude. You know we don't like to see you hurt.” Hardison says like it's easy.

“I can take it.” His jaw clenches again. He can take it, it's literally his entire job.

“We know you can, we still don't have to like it.” Hardison acts like that's going to end this argument.

“Tough. Because that ain't stopping anytime soon.”

“At 32 degrees most people with hypothermia will go unconscious in 15 minutes.” Parker tightens her hold on him and he finally gives in and gently squeezes her back.

“Well, I ain't most people, sweetheart.” Eliot says with the first smile in half a week.

“No you most certainly are not.”

(Just a little thing I always felt was missing from The Experimental Job!)