#2 - you brought that on yourself hardison | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gatefleet · 3 years ago

Text

Collared Leverage

White Collar & Leverage x-over: Neal Caffrey, June, Mozzie, OC, Leverage Crew Word Count: 1,166 (T)W: Ankle monitor? Requested: No A/N: I've been writing and re-writing and debating about this one for a couple of years now, I hope it works

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in the middle of a pretty complex heist when you got a call from an unknown number on your phone. “Brooks,” you answered. You were slightly confused when a distinctly feminine and most definitely English voice rang down the line. “Hi there, I’m looking for a Neal Caffrey, I have a friend who’s interested in his talents. That is to say that we’d greatly appreciate his help with regards to a… particular matter.” You sighed. “Well, sorry to say, England, but Caffrey is a little… indisposed at the minute, is there anything I can help you with instead?” The phone clicked, signalling that the English woman on the other end had hung up the phone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of days had passed since the phone call from the mysterious Englishwoman, you hadn’t brought it up to Neal as he was pre-occupied by some FBI case. Honestly, it sounded way too legal for you to actually pay attention. You were sitting in Neal’s apartment with Mozzie trying to figure out how to trick Neal’s anklet into allowing him out of his 2-mile radius without alerting the FBI. That’s when June knocked on Neal’s door and said that there was a group of people here to see Neal. You and Mozzie looked to each other, he shrugged and made an excuse to hide out on the balcony until whoever they were had left. You sighed and told June to let them up.

You had just sat down with the group; a southern male with shoulder-length brunette hair, a blonde slim female, the English woman (whom you assume you had spoken to on the phone), a younger African-American looking male and an older male with wild, curly hair who looked as though he may be drunk, then Neal, finally, decided to make an appearance. He stopped, confused at first, then his eyes landed on the Englishwoman, and he smiled, “Hey Soph, long time.” It was your turn to look confused, “Neal? You know these guys?” You looked questioningly at Neal, this was when Mozzie decided to re-enter the room. “Not all of them, but Ms. Devereaux here, definitely.” Neal smiled as Sophie got up to hug him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After Sophie and the eldest male (who identified himself as Nate) had explained their situation, that they had been conned by some guy to steal plans from their real owners and sabotage what backups they had, they were ready to get even. Neal, Mozzie and yourself listened to their story and looked amongst each other. “Damn, you guys don’t do things by half measures, huh?” you joked, the long-haired male gave a small smile at that. When Neal was asked if he’d be willing to join them to help with the plans to get even, he shook his head apologetically, “As much as I would love to join you on another adventure Soph, unfortunately it’ll have to wait a couple of years,” Neal half joked as he gestured towards his ankle to show Sophie his new jewellery. “My, my, my Mr. Caffery, I never thought I’d see the day you got caught by the feds.” She looked a little dis-heartened. “Yeah well, we can’t all run forever,” was Neal’s, slightly shrugged, reply as he leaned back on is couch.

After a couple of hours of the teams, youngest and most tech savvy member (Hardison if you had recalled correctly) combing through how Neal’s anklet worked to see if he could find something that you and Mozzie had missed. It turned out that the make and model made it pretty much unhackable without the FBI being alerted and was too new for Hardison to have any real information about the product. This meant that Neal would be completely unable to leave and help out Sophie. You left the room to get some air and finish the painting you had started on the balcony, keeping the doors open so you could still hear the conversation and participate. That’s when you heard Neal mention your name. “Y’know, just because I can’t go doesn’t mean that you guys are completely out of options,” you re-entered the room cleaning your hands of paint with a rag looking intrigued, “Deanna, you’re always saying that you’re looking for something different to New York. Why don’t you go in my place?” Neal smiled at you. You and Mozzie both looked at him, “Neal? Are you being serious? I can’t go, you guys need me here!” you started to complain as you walked out onto the balcony again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say that you were going to kill Neal when you next saw him was an understatement. You had been dragged out of a con with Neal and Mozzie to travel to, God only knew how many miles, to help complete strangers with a case that you knew virtually nothing about. Not your idea of fun. You were use to working alone. The aim of this particular job was to destroy some guy’s reputation because he had set up the team, you weren’t exactly sure why you were needed now, your skills as a forger didn’t really have any impact on this particular situation. It turned out that what they needed was two grifters, you and Sophie, someone that this, Dubenich guy hadn’t seen, hadn’t recruited.

You weren’t entirely certain what you guys had achieved other than the incarceration of Dubenich – and the leaking of his files – but you had to admit, as strange as this team was, it kind of worked. You were all given an envelope with a cashier’s cheque inside and when you saw the amount on the cheque, your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. The money on the cheque alone was more than enough for you, Neal and Mozzie to retire on – not that you were going to let them know you had it. You all looked at one another after reading your respective cheques and walked away. The job was done. There was no need to remember faces or names, and besides, it was strange having a team to rely on and share some of the roles with. You were too settled with the fact that you had to play every role and you were good at them, but you excelled at grifting and forging.

So why did you catch yourself slowing down and considering telling them to give you a call if any of them required your help in the future? You were a lone wolf. Your norm for a heist was you, yourself and you, occasionally Neal and Moz, but most normally you. When you went to chase down the Nate guy to let him know, you found that, apparently, you weren’t the only one thinking about how well you all worked together. Nate reluctantly agreed to give each of you a call if another opportunity to work together arose. So, with that, you all exchanged numbers and walked away, just awaiting a call that could come at any time, on any day.

(GIF Credits; White Collar: @aragarna Leverage: @leverageepisodegifs)

#leverage #white collar #neal caffrey #leverage crew #oc #fanfic #collared leverage

9 notes · View notes

suddenrundown · 3 years ago

Note

Hey hey heartsong au but like

When the OT3 finally happens, when Eliot finally starts getting involved with Parker/Hardison, he spends like the first couple weeks so SURE that they're going to change their minds, that this isn't what they thought, what they wanted, and so the Nate Torture Du Jour (because he thought he was FREE of the Gutwrenching Eliot Country Ballads) is that one country song that's about wanting their lover to break things off quick and easy instead of drawing out slow (cuz the singer doesn't have the heart to break it off himself) like "if you're gonna break my heart, just break it"

I think it's called Have Mercy or something?

Had to look that one up and yeah, Mercy by Brett Young! Also I need you to know that if you just type "mercy lyrics" into google it comes up with a kanye west song and i was immediately like "oh that is NOT what she was referring to" lol. Eliot can do a lot of things song-wise but not that one....not that one. ANYWAY!

Oh Eliot....he would do that. Completely unfounded too, cuz like it's just his own insecurities and self hatred that makes him sing ♫If you made up your mind, then make it, make this fast, if you ever loved me, have mercy♫ at both Hardison and Parker one afternoon apropos of nothing as far as Nate can tell. Literally Eliot, all Hardison did was say your shirt brought out the blue in your eyes and that he liked it on you why the hell are you ♫HAVE MERCY♫ -ing them???

As much as Nate won't/can't/makes it a habit not to interfere with heartsongs, he does go up to Eliot later and in the most offhand way he can manage tell him "son, stop cutting yourself off at the knees" because while Eliot's been forlornly singing that one, Hardison and Parker have been singing I Really Like You at him all afternoon, which is, you know, cute for the first go round, maybe, but not so much after you've heard it 6 damn times in the span of 2 hours

#go with me on them singing carly rae jepson IDK I JUST WANTED SOMETHING CUTE LOL #a heartsong au #leverage #ot3: hitter hacker thief #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #nate ford

23 notes · View notes

eighthxjune · 4 years ago

Text

aixa writes black people + love #2 community: A “World” Still Necessary

It was 1987 when A Different World premiered. I was young, like not yet double digits, young. Every Thursday night, at 8:30, my mom, dad, sister, brother and I gathered around the TV, belting out the show’s theme song by Phoebe Snow in season one, Aretha Franklin in seasons two through five, and Boyz II Men in its final episodes. Those lyrics were soon my alma mater:

I know my parents loved me Stand behind me come what may I know now that I’m ready For I finally heard them say

It’s a different woorrrrrld than where ya come from

Hillman College was a pinnacle place for me. It personified cultural identity, and as someone who grew up in a predominantly white suburban town, the only Black pupil until high school, it was majestic and I wanted to be there. Hillman displayed the cool factor our culture exudes so effortlessly; highlighting our style, dialect, posture, passion, and purpose from every region of the country, the continent of Africa and the Caribbean. This “world”, was different than where I came from, and it was beautiful. It gave me hope that a place - outside of my own home - supportive, caring and nurturing existed.

I saw Black teachers champion students who didn’t see their own unique potential, and dorm directors give sage advice. Witnessed roommates with nothing in common become best friends, and confidants. I got hyped, and danced when adamant voices rallied together until a donor ceased support of South Africa’s apartheid. And understood what loyalty looked like when a friend rescued his homegirl from what nearly turned into a date rape. I cheered on two Black men fighting the weapon of racial injustice brought upon by a rival school, and marveled in a student reclaiming the image of Aunt Jemima, realizing her imperial complexion was to be treasured. I observed discoveries, rejections, failed attempts, triumphs and losses, and empathized as if they were my own, because honestly they were. Hillman was a community, a Black community, our community, an extension of who I was, who I am. At such a young age, it was introducing me to myself. This “different world” was a reflection of my desires and dreams. It was an aspirational exhibit of Black successes - a rarity shown in media. Hillman was a place that encouraged you to stretch your capacity of thought and understanding. It valued unlearning stifled ways of thinking, to learning expansively and with zeal.

Debbie Allen, an HBCU alum of Howard University, and the show's brilliant producer, as of season two, understood the importance of telling Black stories with all of their complexities. She used television as a tool to address what was most difficult and challenging about us. ��If we’re not doing that, we’re not doing a good job.” She expressed to Netflix’s Strong Black Legends. When brought on board she excitedly wrote a storyline for character Denise Huxtable (Lisa Bonet), who, at the time, was pregnant in real life. She thought it would be great to present the experience of a young Black student from an upper middle class family, not married, about to embark on motherhood. Though the idea got nixed by the show’s creator, Bill Cosby - who didn’t approve of Denise being pregnant in college - I wonder what her story would have developed into as a student mother, a credible notion, and one I’m certain would have advanced her role.

See, at Hillman, students strived to be the best versions of themselves, and looked forward to reciprocating care to those who raised them. But, even more vital, they knew their obligation to boost those who were succeeding them. They cherished their Blackness and its power.

The hub of the campus was The Pit - the school’s eatery that made an appearance in practically every episode. It was where students solely exhaled after a day of grueling classes and friends merged to catch up on the latest of tales. Conversations flowed candidly at this hangout and with comedic flair. Everyone passed through the beloved grumpy owner, Mr Gaines’ (Lou Myers) spot. Even my forever heartthrob, Tupac, made a stunning guest appearance as Piccolo, an old flame from Baltimore coming to put claims on his childhood love, Lena James (Jada Pinkett Smith).

Relationships played a significant part in character maturation at Hillman, and the love story that tugged at my heartstrings was Whitley and Dewayne, performed by Jasmine Guy and Kadeem Hardison. Cleverly laced throughout the show’s entire series, we journeyed with a high maintenance southern debutante from Richmond, VA and a Brooklyn native in J’s and flip-up glasses, who got a perfect score on his math SATs. Allen took us on an exciting ride while these two people - growing individually - were also hesitantly falling in love with each other. It was the ingenious love story I needed, and subconsciously yearned for, even if I were only in the fifth grade. How could I not gush over this attainable fairytale that spoke my love language. I kept twinkling at the idea that, ‘In just a few years, this college life will be a reality for me.’

Although Hillman College was a fictional place, its impact tripled enrollment of Historically Black Colleges and Universities. As you may have gathered by now, A Different World ignited my love for HBCUs, and then began my search in finding one most suitable for me; a place that served as a home and fostered my voice, since it was currently muffled, allowing others - who didn’t look like me - to feel comfortable in the presence of my Black skin. By the time I got to high school I attended the Black College Tour, twice. Not because I was having trouble finding a good school, but really I was in awe of the noteworthy offerings provided at these historically Black schools. The curriculums were impressive, the faculty resembled me, and the alumni were groundbreakers. I was visiting institutions that are irreplaceable. There was so much to learn about myself, and it was to happen in this next phase. During my visits, I watched students purposefully carry themselves across campus, greet friends with hugs and daps, expressively admire each other’s gear and hairstyles, pause on building steps to continue debatable class discussions, only to be interrupted by an eye-catching smile. The exploration alone made my heart flutter, and shortly after I was back at home flexing in my new Black college apparel - showing off the schools I toured. By senior year of high school I decided to attend Howard University in Washington, D.C. and it was more than I imagined it to be; finding me in a way I didn’t think it could. It met me where I was and readied me to rule the world.

There have always been skeptics who find HBCUs to be limiting. But, honestly there isn’t a place that will “teach you how to love and know yourself” like one - a necessary move after centuries of oppression; especially as a Black woman who receives bare minimum support when it comes to this country’s level of respect. These institutions encourage you to go inward and prepare yourself for life ahead, beyond Black communities. On the backs of scarred ancestors, almost 200 years ago, HBCUs were created, reshaping American history. Literally built by their hands, these Black forebears constructed a place to acquire a well desired education, and for once, as a majority, marked a setting where Black issues could be discussed. Despite what history instilled upon us, Black people were thriving and these HBCUs had a strong hand in making sure of that.

Howard University is a big part of my DNA, a connection made due to A Different World. It’s not easy expressing to those who have never attended an HBCU how magical those four years were, and how much rich history is seeped in the campus soil. However, the show is the best demonstration; restoring a feeling that will always remain in my heart, reminding me of friendships built that reside at my core. I graduated from Howard years ago, started a career in New York and since moved to Los Angeles to begin a new chapter. But every autumn, when I can, I race back to celebrate Howard’s homecoming, in high hopes of reliving just a taste of some of the greatest years of my life. It's never quite the same, but I don’t expect it ever will be.

A Different World came to an “end of the road” in 1993, and now I stream its episodes to emotionally reconnect with a missed experience; watching amusingly as if I hadn’t seen each one several times already. Because I still yearn to explore a “world” that inspires me to reach for more of myself, and a Black love story that provides hope. And though this “world” may be different, I know, I’m not alone.

Take care of yourself.

37 notes · View notes

leiascully · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: Five Bets Eliot Lost (Mostly On Purpose) And One He Didn’t (Leverage, OT3, T)

4700/16500 words; T for swearing and references to sex; Eliot and Hardison finally go fishing; read on AO3

Part 1/5: Triple Chocolate Cookies Part 2/5: Three Garlic Pasta Part 3/5: Three Bean Chili

"You know what I was thinking?" Hardison said out of the blue one day when they were between jobs.

"Do I look like a mind reader?" Eliot asked, which gave him a little pang, because it was something his momma used to say.

"I was thinking we never did get to go fishing," Hardison said, ignoring him. "You know, our special little date you set up."

"It wasn't a date," Eliot growled. "It was a regular boys' trip."

"Yeah, you know those are all dates, right?" Hardison drawled.

Eliot frowned. "It's not a date when you eat at the bait shop."

"Oh, you weren't gonna take me to the bait shop," Hardison said. "No sir. We were gonna bring all those fish home and fry 'em up and that's what you were going to feed me. Not some kind of bait shop sandwich with plastic cheese on it, all full of salmonella and what have you."

"You don't know what you're missing," Eliot said, shaking his head. "Eating at the bait shop is an experience."

"It's not an experience I need to have," Hardison said.

"Well, too bad, I guess," Eliot told him, and grinned. "Because we're going fishing."

"That's good," Hardison said, "because I did get us these fishing licenses." He brandished two pieces of paper.

"You paid for 'em?" Eliot asked. Hardison nodded. "Huh. Figured you'd just hack the system or whatever."

"And have you take me on the kind of date where we get arrested?" Hardison demanded. It hit something inside Eliot every time Hardison insisted it was a date. He was going to do his damndest not to think about it, he decided. Hardison was still talking. "I'm not going down because some hat-wearing Game and Fish Commission dude needs to meet his quota for the month. Besides, you're paying for lunch and reels and worms or whatever. Seemed fair."

"That's how I know it's not a date," Eliot said, squinting sideways up at Hardison. "Because when I take someone on a date, they don't pay for anything. It's all taken care of." It was just banter, obviously. He wasn't flirting with Hardison. But they'd always gone back and forth, just normal stuff, because he'd never been able to resist messing with a guy with a brain as big as Hardison's.

"Yeah, yeah," Hardison said. "It's the twenty-first century, man. Everybody splits the check." He clapped Eliot on the shoulder. "Let's go fishing."

"Find us a spot," Eliot told him, and Hardison's eyes lit up a little.

They found a sweet little spot out by the river and set up the folding chairs and the rods Eliot had bought at the bait shop. He could have rented them, but maybe if they owned the damn things, he'd be able to talk Hardison into going fishing again. They rarely got the chance to spend time together, just the two of them. Eliot had spent pretty much his whole childhood hanging out down at the river with the boys. It was nice to feel like he could salvage some of that with Hardison.

"We are eating whatever is in those takeout boxes before I'm touching any worms," Hardison declared, and Eliot grinned at him.

"Prepare for an experience you'll never forget," he told Hardison, and brought out two styrofoam containers of fried fish, slaw, and hushpuppies. There was beer to wash it down, and a couple of homemade fried pies to top it off — none of it the best Eliot had ever had, but all of it good. Something about the fresh air and the sound of the rushing river gave it an extra flavor.

"All right," Hardison said when they were done and he'd licked the last of the peach filling from the pie off his fingers. "That wasn't the worst."

"I told you," Eliot said.

Hardison nodded. "You did. You really did."

"And now," Eliot said, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together, "we fish."

"That is what we're here for," Hardison said. "Although I'll be honest with you, I kind of always though 'going fishing' was just a euphemism."

"For drinking beer?" Eliot said. "I mean, you're not wrong. There's a lot of beer drinking."

Hardison shrugged. "That and other things."

"Uh huh," Eliot said. He wasn't going to pretend not to know what Hardison meant. He done a little bit of everything down by the river those last few summers at home, or at least experienced a little bit of everything.

"Just sayin'," Hardison said, holding up his hands.

"You thought I invited you down to the river to fool around, huh?" Eliot asked.

"I mean, not this time," Hardison said. "I invited you." He rubbed his hands together. "So are we going to fish or what?"

"We are definitely going to fish," Eliot said. "Just...fish."

"You're gonna have to show me," Hardison said, and Eliot grinned. They started at the beginning: threading the line through the supports on the rod, tying on a hook, adding the worms that Hardison was so disgusted by. Eliot could have gotten other bait, but it was funny to watch Hardison squirm.

"Now cast your hook out into the water," Eliot said.

"Okay," Hardison said, giving him one of those looks. "How do I do that?"

"Just" — Eliot mimed flicking the rod — "put it out there."

"Show me," Hardison said, and Eliot picked up his rod. "No, show me, like, move my arm. I'm not gonna learn by watching you. I'm one of those kinesthetic learners. I need to feel it."

"Uh, sure," Eliot said. "I'll just, uh...here, stand up." He stepped up behind Hardison and kind of put his arms around him a little. Hardison was taller than he was and Eliot's face was almost against the back of Hardison's shoulder. Hardison was wearing one of those waffle-looking shirts and he smelled like bergamot and some kind of woodsy deodorant. It worked on him. "It starts with the shoulder, that's where the power comes from." He patted Hardison's shoulder and then ran his hand down Hardison's arm. "It ends in the wrist. That's the finesse." He moved Hardison's arm back and forth. Goddamn, Hardison was strong. It wasn't exactly like he ever forgot that, since it was part of the calculations Eliot made for every job — if shit went south, he could rely on Hardison to get out, mostly — but he never really considered the physical reality of it either, unless they were both working out at the same time. But Hardison's arms were hard with muscle underneath the fabric of his shirt, and Eliot could feel the power in them as Hardison's arm pivoted smoothly with his guidance. "Like this."

"Uh huh," Hardison said in a serious voice. "I think I'm getting it. Just back and forth."

"Not just back and forth," Eliot said. He laid his arm out along the length of Hardison's and wrapped his fingers around Hardison's wrist. "It's all in the wrist, man. Just hold this down, pull back, and flick as you let go." Their arms moved together and Hardison's hook dropped neatly into the water. "Just like that."

"I might need help again later," Hardison said. "You know they say practice makes perfect."

"I'm here all day," Eliot said. "You want another beer? It might take a while to actually catch anything."

"Why the hell not," Hardison said. Eliot cracked open two more beers and Hardison clinked his can against Eliot's as they sat down. "To finally going fishing."

Eliot drank a healthy sip and slid his can into the cupholder built into the arm of his chair. He cast out into the river. It wasn't hard, but it did take practice to get the little flick just right. He'd gotten plenty of practice over the years — he'd been fishing since he was little, maybe five, first with his granddaddy and then his daddy and then his friends.

It wasn't like Hardison was wrong. He and his buddies had gone down to the river by themselves starting when they were twelve or so. They hadn't fooled around until they were in high school, when they'd go catch enough fish to come home with and then fill the rest of the hours with whatever they'd managed to steal out of their parents' liquor cabinets and cigarette packs. What the hell else were a bunch of teenage boys going to do but get tipsy and go skinny dipping? Whatever else had happened had just happened. Just a bunch of boys taking a test drive before the real deal. The fact that it had still happened after some of them had gotten laid was just a matter of opportunity.

The military had been like that too, and then thieving, since then: Eliot and all his brothers-in-arms just trying to get by and have a little fun in their off-time. Keeping the world safe for democracy got lonely It wasn't gay to give another man a hand job. His own damn hand just got so boring after a while, and there hadn't been any women in his combat unit. Wrapping his fist around another man's cock had been a favor, nothing more, because the other guy had always done it for him too. And getting a blow job from another man wasn't gay either, because Eliot had never been the one blowing. It wasn't like he'd tangled his fingers in the guy's hair or kissed any of them afterward. Well, maybe a couple of them, but when they swallowed, it only seemed polite to thank them with a kiss and a hand job. It wasn't gay. It wasn't like there'd been tongue. Much.

Okay, it was bi-curious at most. He'd probably thought about women anyway.

"Bet you I catch more fish," Hardison said, startling Eliot out of his thoughts.

"No way in hell," Eliot told him. "You can't even cast by yourself yet."

"I had a good teacher," Hardison said. "You wait and see how many fish I catch."

"Fine," Eliot said. "Loser buys dinner."

"Loser cooks dinner," Hardison said. "Because you're going to be preparing all these delicious fish I catch."

"Only if you win, which you're not gonna," Eliot said. "And if you do, you're gonna learn to clean a fish."

"That sounds terrible," Hardison said cheerfully. "How about you do it and I pretend to watch?"

"You've gotta catch at least five more fish than I do if you want to get out of cleaning duty," Eliot said.

"Done," Hardison said. He pointed at Eliot. "No backsies."

"What are you, a child?" Eliot asked.

"I am a fully grown adult man," Hardison said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Wanted in at least sixteen countries, and that doesn't even count the warrants."

"Hah," Eliot said. "I get it." He raised his beer to Hardison. Hardison grinned. Eliot felt a nibble on his line and ignored it. He didn't want to lose, but on the other hand, he wanted to see what would happen if Hardison won. The last time, he'd somehow ended up on their date, and it had been weird as hell, but also nice somehow. Eliot hadn't had any shortage of quote-unquote friends, but he hadn't been on a date in longer than he could remember. And he hadn't really felt like the third wheel, unless it was the third wheel of a tricycle. He'd felt like they wanted him there. Like it wouldn't have been the same without him. And now Hardison had basically insisted that this was kind of a date, whatever that meant.

Eliot had no fucking clue what the fuck was happening, if he was honest with himself.

"I feel something," Hardison said, sitting up and alert in his chair.

"All right, jerk your wrist back to set the hook," Eliot told him. "Still feel it?"

"Yeah," Hardison said, focusing in on the rod and the water in a way that gave Eliot a little tingle someplace he couldn't describe. Watching Hardison work really was something else.

"Keep the line taut," Eliot said. "Just reel it in slowly. If it fights, you tip the rod to give it a little room. Don't let the line out too far or the hook might slip and you'll lose it." He put his hand on Hardison's shoulder. The man had biceps, that was for sure. "Easy does it. Easy."

"This is as easy as I get," Hardison said, cranking the reel.

"You got this," Eliot told him.

There were a few tricky moments, but at the end of it, Hardison was triumphantly holding up a pretty little bass. Eliot freed it from the hook and dropped it in a bucket of water.

"That's one," Hardison said, holding up one finger. "And how many do you have? None?"

Eliot pretended to look around and turned to flip Hardison off. "Hey, man. Look at that. I got one too."

"Ha ha," Hardison said sarcastically.

They didn't catch a damn thing the whole rest of the afternoon. Eliot could have — he felt the fish nibbling, but he'd either let them go or yank at just the wrong moment or let too much line out. Hardison just didn't have the technique down. Eliot helped him cast a couple more times, but nothing seemed to want to take Hardison's bait.

They both looked at the one fish in the bucket and then at each other.

"How's chili sound for dinner?" Eliot asked after a moment.

"Yeah," Hardison said. "I could go for some chili. Maybe some cornbread."

"Don't push your luck," Eliot said, though he'd already been thinking about it himself.

"All right, all right," Hardison said. "I can eat my chili with Fritos like a regular person if you're not gonna put out."

Eliot tipped out the bucket into the river and the fish swam away. "No one in the history of food has ever used the phrase 'put out' in conjunction with the idea of cornbread, except to to say 'put out the cornbread on the table'."

"I'm an innovator," Hardison said. "Cutting edge."

"Just help me carry all this shit to the truck," Eliot told him, rolling his eyes and dumping the ice from the cooler out onto the edge of the river. They'd finished the beer a couple of hours ago, at least. The rods and the cooler and the chairs all went in the back of his truck and he and Hardison piled back in and drove back to the Bridgeport.

"Can't believe you didn't catch anything." Hardison said. "Fish in Oklahoma must just be easy, huh?"

"Guess so," Eliot said. "I sure caught more than my share back home." He smirked.

"I can imagine," Hardison said, and suddenly that was all Eliot was thinking about: Hardison thinking about the things Eliot had done down by the river. "Good clean wholesome country fun, no doubt."

"Nothing cleaner than skinny dipping," Eliot said, glancing at Hardison and then back at the road. He could at least have a little say in what Hardison was imagining. If that happened to be Eliot buck naked and golden from the summer sun, so be it. He glanced at Hardison again and caught just the curve of Hardison's smile as Hardison licked his lips. Eliot felt a shock spark through him like static.

What the fuck was he doing? Flirting with his teammate? With his other teammate's boyfriend? This wasn't a "what happens down at the river stays down at the river" situation. Parker and Hardison were pretty much all he had these days by way of friends he saw regularly. He couldn't mess with that. But Hardison was still smiling and seemed perfectly comfortable.

"Hey, babe," Parker said when they came in. She was studying something on a laptop. She turned in her seat to kiss Hardison. Eliot felt that spark again and remembered his dreams. He looked away. She sure as hell hadn't offered him a kiss. Maybe he was imagining this whole thing. Maybe they hadn't ever been flirting with him and he'd messed up all their date night plans that last time with the pasta.

"Hell yeah, I did," Hardison told her. "More than Eliot too, which means he's making dinner again."

"Nice," Parker said. "For everybody?"

Hardison shrugged. "I assume Nate and Sophie are out for the night, since nobody's called me to demand I work technological miracles on short notice."

"Fine with me." Parker hopped off her chair. "What's for dinner?"

"Chili," Eliot said. "And before you ask, no, it doesn't pair well with tiramisu."

"No more late-night tiramisu," Hardison said, putting his arms around Parker with an indulgent air. "You were bouncing off the walls for hours."

"You liked it," Parker told him, and her grin told Eliot everything he needed to know and more about exactly how much Hardison had liked it.

"I didn't say I didn't benefit from it," Hardison allowed, "but sometimes I need my sleep, baby. There's only so much one man can do."

"All right, all right," Eliot groused. It was too bad two men wasn't an option. Between them, surely they could tire out even a sugared-up and caffeinated Parker.

"Ice cream," Parker decided. "Yeah, definitely ice cream." She flashed them a smile. "I'll be back."

"I'm gonna watch the master work," Hardison said to Parker, following Eliot into the kitchen. "Don't forget there's only so much room in the freezer."

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "If we eat it, that's not a problem."

"She's got a point," Eliot said. He washed his hands and flung a towel over his shoulder.

"First I learned to fish," Hardison said. "Now I'm going to learn to cook."

"Maybe you'll be better at cooking than you were at fishing," Eliot teased.

Hardison snorted. "Says the man who didn't catch even a minnow today."

"I was off my game," Eliot said.

"Missing your old fishing buddies, huh," Hardison said, leaning on the counter.

"Something like that." Eliot dug in the cabinets for one of his big dutch ovens, the cast iron ones. "If you want to cook chili, you start out with a big old pot."

"Looks like you could do reps with that one," Hardison said, miming bicep curls.

"Just about," Eliot said. He set it on the stove and pulled out the cutting board and an onion. "Mince your onion up. I like it in little pieces so it gets all melty. Some people like big chunks of onion, but that's their business." He minced a few cloves of garlic alongside it and turned on the heat under the pan. "Heat first. That's important. When the pan gets hot, then we add the oil, then we wait for that to heat up."

"I'm taking notes in my mind," Hardison said, tapping his temple. "Heat. Oil. Onions. Got it."

Eliot went to the fridge. He'd been meaning to make chili anyway — he had a packet of mixed ground pork and beef from the butcher, which meant either chili or burgers in his world. He pulled that out and grabbed a couple of bell peppers while he was at it. Hardison watched him lay everything out on the counter. Eliot held his hand over the metal bottom of the pot. Hot enough, he thought. He added some oil and watched it run along the perfect unstained enamel. One of these days, maybe he'd be in one place long enough to break his cookware in. His momma's chili pot had had a chip out of the top and it never looked completely clean inside. Too many Sunday dinners and weeknight soups. He shook his head and cut the tops off his bell peppers. The oil in the pot was shimmering. He scraped in the onions and garlic and let them sizzle. The scent of them immediately filled the kitchen.

"First the noise," he told Hardison. "Then you stir." He started dicing the bell peppers, peered over at the onions, and handed Hardison the big wooden spoon. "Stir."

"You get bossy in the kitchen, don't you?" Hardison asked, but he came around the counter and stood next to Eliot.

"I'm bossy everywhere," Eliot told him. "And it's saved your life more than once."

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Hardison said, poking the onions with the spoon. Eliot threw some salt in on top of them.

"I said stir 'em, not move 'em around one at a time," he teased.

"I had a lot of wrist action earlier," Hardison protested. "Go easy on me."

"Don't tell me you need me to teach you how to stir," Eliot said. "Smartest man I know. You can figure it out." He pulled a beer out of the fridge.

"Didn't get enough earlier?" Hardison joked.

"It's for the chili," Eliot told him. He peered around Hardison at the onions. "Stir 'em around again." Hardison scraped the spoon through the onions obediently. They were translucent enough, Eliot decided, and added the peppers to the pot.

"Keep stirring?" Hardison asked.

"You got it," Eliot said. He unstuck the paper around the packet of meat and unwrapped it.

"Mm," Hardison said unconvincingly, looking at the bloody rectangle.

"This is the good stuff," Eliot said. He dumped it into the pot. "Chop it up with the spoon as it turns brown." He mimed the action and Hardison mimicked him, separating the meat into chunks.

"Big or little pieces?" Hardison asked.

"Depends on what you like," Eliot said. "Smaller's easier to eat. Picks up the flavor better. Bigger keeps more of the meat taste and feels different in your mouth." He tossed in more salt on top of the meat, added chili powder and black pepper and oregano.

"Is that cocoa powder?" Hardison asked.

"Just a little," Eliot said, measuring it out on a teaspoon. "Gives it a little depth. That's what the beer's for too."

"And here I thought you were just rude," Hardison murmured.

"That too," Eliot said. He added cumin to the pot, hesitated, and then threw in a little more. Hardison sniffed appreciatively.

"This smells good, man," he told Eliot.

"Thanks," Eliot said.

"You use a recipe?" Hardison asked.

"Nah," Eliot said. "Just know what it's supposed to be like." He collected a can of tomatoes and three different kinds of beans from the pantry. If he was going to keep losing bets, he was going to keep making three-of-a-kind recipes and see if they ever even noticed. Black beans, pinto beans, and kidney beans made a hell of a chili anyway.

"Meat looks...brown," Hardison said.

"Good," Eliot said. He cracked open the beer and poured most of it into the pan, where it bubbled and steamed up in a cloud that made Hardison cough. Eliot laughed and took a swig of what was left. He offered the last swallow to Hardison. Hardison took it without hesitation. Eliot couldn't stop looking at the way Hardison's lips pressed against the mouth of the bottle, right where Eliot's had been. Hardison drained the dregs and set the bottle on the counter, his eyes on Eliot's. Eliot shivered. There'd been looks like that down by the river, those summers in high school: lazy, certain stares full of breathless heat. He didn't know anymore if he was imagining things.

He'd tried not to get in the way. They just kept including him. Maybe it was inevitable that he was having these kinds of thoughts about it. It had been a long damn time since anybody had made him feel as needed as the two of them did, or as wanted, or as welcome. Of course he had feelings about them now. Of course he dreamed about them.

"Eliot," Hardison said softly. "Earth to Eliot."

"Yeah," Eliot said, shaking it off. "Let the liquid cook off a little." He grabbed the can opener and opened the cans. He dumped the beans into a colander, all three cans, and rinsed them off.

"Three bean chili, huh?" Hardison said. "When one or two beans just won't do."

"Adds texture," Eliot said. Hardison didn't know enough about food to contradict him, and anyway, it was sort of true. He grabbed a spoon and tasted it. "It ain't Texas chili, but it'll do."

"Now what?" Hardison asked.

"Now we turn the heat down and let it simmer," Eliot told him. "And I guess we make cornbread, if you still want it."

"Hell yeah, I do," Hardison said.

"Then turn on the oven," Eliot said, "and throw that cast iron skillet in there."

"This one?" Hardison held it up.

"That's the one," Eliot told him, already measuring everything into a bowl. Cornbread came together fast. When the batter was all mixed together, he pulled out the hot skillet, melted some butter in it, and poured in the batter. It hissed and spat a little. He pushed it back into the oven.

"Kinda thought Parker would be back by now," he said.

Hardison shrugged. "You know Parker and sugar. She might be back in five minutes. Might be two hours."

"This'll take about half an hour," Eliot said.

"How will we pass the time," Hardison said, lounging against the counter.

"Not fishing, I'm guessing," Eliot said. He leaned on the counter next to Hardison. "Not unless you've still got that game."

"I do, but now that I know what the real thing is like, I don't know if I can go back," Hardison said. He smiled over at Eliot, slow and sweet. "All that fresh air, you know?"

"I'm back!" Parker said. She was carrying a tote bag that looked like it definitely contained more ice cream than three adults could or should eat. "I couldn't pick a flavor, so I just got all of them."

"Attagirl," Eliot said, pushing himself off the counter. "Go big."

"And then come home," Hardison said, pulling Parker close. He took the ice cream bag from her and looked through it. "Wow. You really did get everything."

"I told you so," Parker said. "Is it dinner yet?"

"Almost," Eliot said. "Just waiting on the cornbread."

"Yum," Parker said.

"I helped cook," Hardison said.

"He did," Eliot confirmed. "He's a good little sous chef. Stirs and everything."

"Sounds like you're a great team," Parker said, looking between them and smiling. "I like teamwork."

"Me too," Hardison said. He grinned at her and raised one eyebrow.

Eliot tried really damn hard not to read anything into that.

Dinner didn't feel like a date this time, but it did feel like family. They watched <i>Top Gun</i> afterwards, because apparently that was what they did now: dinner and a movie. Parker gave up on any pretense and swung her legs over Eliot's lap almost the minute he sat down. She put her head in Hardison's lap and Hardison stroked her hair. Neither of them said anything or even seemed to notice anything was strange. Eliot sighed to himself and rested his hand on her shin. It wasn't like she'd never touched him before. She'd flung her arm around his shoulder or jumped into his arms or poked at him a hundred times over the years. It just felt different now.

Nothing about his life was remotely like what he'd imagined when he'd been in high school. But it was all right. He had a damn good life.

"Pass me that fruity one," Parker said, sitting up so that she was leaning against Hardison, and Eliot handed her a gooey pint of ice cream. She dug her spoon into the container and grinned at him. He thought very briefly about how sweet she'd taste if he kissed her.

"Share," Hardison told her, and Parker held the spoon to his mouth, and Eliot thought about kissing him too. He picked up one of the other pints of ice cream and occupied his mouth and his mind with other sensations, real ones, cold and the bitter bite of chocolate and the smooth feeling of butterfat. It helped crowd the fantasies out of his head, at least for a little while.

It could have been worse. He could have fallen for Sophie.

#leverage fic #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #parker/hardison/eliot #my fic #team leverage ot3 #leverage ot3 fic #leverage

28 notes · View notes

sandalaris · 5 years ago

Text

10 for 10 for 10

I’ve been tagged by @yossariandawn Thanks for thinking of me! and for all the great questions! (and sorry it took so long. I had a hard time thinking of 10 questions of my own.)

Answer 10 questions, ask 10 questions, tag 10 people.

1. If you could learn a new skill instantly, what would you choose? I’m not sure. I think that if it’s a skill you really enjoy than taking the time to learn becomes part of the enjoyment, so it’d have to be a skill I either only kind of wanted or that I felt was a need over a want. Oo, MMA, good exercise and the ability to defend myself or someone else if I ever need to, and it’s not something I feel really passionately about going through the process of learning.

2. What part of the world (that you’ve never been to) would you choose to live in for a month? Hyère, France. Don’t even have to think about it. About eight years ago I was planning a move and it was on the short list of places I was considering going to. The climate seemed the most ideal to what I wanted to live in and all the pictures were beautiful.

3. Favorite kind of sandwich or wrap? Grilled cheese? I don’t like sandwiches (or wraps) typically.

4. Show swap! Bring back 3 shows you love, but you also have to choose 3 you like to cancel instead. Oo, gotta think about this one. I don’t want to bring back a show that was already past its peak and I don’t want to say to cancel a show that isn’t ready to end.

Cancel: (I stuck only with shows that I watch and enjoy so I’m not digging at any show just because it’s not my personal preference)

NCIS – I love the show, seen every last episode and will continue watching it until the end, but it’s time for it to wrap up. It well past its prime.

Lucifer – Listen, I love this show, and there’s a ton of great characters and material here to make a long running series, but they have started going in circles with it and that’s making it feel old. How many times can the same characters learn the same lessons before it just feels like the writers are just forcing things back into the same ol’ mold? Let the story grow or move on.

Shameless – It’s a stretch because the finale season has already been declared, but it’s a show that I don’t really need that finale season, even if I will watch and enjoy it, because it’s reached its natural end.

Bring back:

From Dusk till Dawn: the series – I debated on this one. It wrapped everything up so nicely and I’m quite happy with how it ended, but at the same time the writers had plans for the next season and it was never officially cancelled and there’s so much more story that could be told.

Firefly – Although it’s been enough time that it might have to be more of a reboot maybe? Or are we doing the impossible and it’s coming back shortly after it was canceled? Either way, that show was cancelled way too soon.

The Gifted – Yes, it was a bit cheesy but it’s just as good, if not better than, a lot of the comicbook shows still going AND it ended on a cliffhanger. It needed to continue

5. What fandom would you want to get into, but haven’t yet? I don’t know. I feel like I don’t exactly pick my fandoms. I start watching a show or go see a movie or read a book and then if I feel like looking up fandom stuff after I do.

6. What show or movie do you watch to cheer you up? Probably Community. It’s a good show that has that nice balance of being a ridiculous comedy, but not too silly at the same time. And it hits so many of my favorite tropes. (Leverage could also count.)

7. Favorite condiments? ….salt? That’s technically a seasoning, but I am not a condiment fan. They are mostly gross and just cover up the flavor the food with their grossness.

8. What characters (from different universes) do you think would love hanging out together? Pick as many as you want. I wrote for fun a Kisa (FDtD) and Troy (Community) scene and discovered I really like them interacting (there was other people in the scene, but they stole all my attention in a matter of moments). They connected in a weird way and I loved writing Kisa’s bizarre and confused reactions to Troy. Britta (Community) and Richie (FDtD) would get along well I think. They’d click in that odd way that Richie has with random people and Britta would be a little too oblivious to Richie’s more social flaws/creepy nature, as is her way when it comes to guys with even the tiniest bit of charm and intelligence. Not gonna lie, I kind of ship them now.

I would also put Shawn from Psych with the entire Leverage crew. Sophie is the only one I feel would find him a bit much at times, mainly because she can spot a grift a mile away and Shawn’s kind of always “on” and think it would mess with her trust issues too much for her to be entirely comfortable around him. Nate sees his potential, especially if Shawn’s been brought in to help on a job, and the guy is ultimately one of the Good Guys, and he would go a long way to helping put Sophie at ease. Because Nate’s too smart to be taken in by someone like Shawn and Sophie wouldn’t feel like she’s the only one who sees him for the conartist he is. Eliot would groan and grumble for show, but in the end Shawn’s like a combination of his two favorite people in the world; Parker and Hardison. Plus, I headcanon Shawn and Eliot as cousins. I think Hardison might find Shawn a little too like himself to ever be best buddies with the guy, but overall they’d get along just fine. As for Parker... I feel like they’d be almost like two kids on the playground who both found out they like the same obscure cartoon none of the other kids have seen.

I have a little headcanon about Parker (Leverage) and Clint Barton (MCU) having been in the same foster home as kids and having this kind of a past-sibling-esque connection. I like to think that with both their careers they don’t meet up often, but whenever they realize they are in the same place at the same time, it’s a given that they’ll hang out while there.

My roommate keeps yelling over my shoulder Starlord and Micheal (from the movie starring John Travolta) until I agreed to put them. They would get along in a weird sort of fun way that would be fun to watch but hard to be a part of, but since I haven’t see that movie since I was a kid it’s not one I think of.

9. What’s the most underrated show or movie or book or artist that you love and people should really check out?

Ilona Andrews is an amazing author and more people should check their works out. But the most underrated show I think I’ve ever gotten into… honestly would probably be From Dusk till Dawn. I feel like most of my followers are at least aware of it though because I post enough about it, but it was just really good and sort of cut off before its time. A really close second would be Leverage. It’s still the number one show I recommend when people ask me and I just adore it to pieces.

10. What were you obsessed with as a kid?

So many things, but probably Jasmine from Disney’s Aladdin the most. Pretty sure I named more than one stuffed animal after her.

My questions:

1. What was your first fandom? Are you still a part of it?

2. Current self care method(s)?

3. What are three (3) shows you keep meaning to binge watch but haven’t yet?

4. Do you stay active in fandoms after a new one catches your eye, or are you more a one at a time person?

5. What was the last movie you saw with someone else? What would you rate it?

6. Favorite guilty pleasure?

7. What’s a highly underrated show/movie/book series that you would recommend?

8. Any new hobbies you’ve started during quarantine? Any you want to start?

9. What meme do you wish would just die already?

10. Spread the love to your followers and post at least one link to a fic you’re reading/have read/wish to read/you’ve written yourself/etc.

I tag: @shyesplease @valeskaj @ithoughtiwasflying @c-sand @mygutsforgarters @bethanyactually @crystallinee-waters @evanberries @nevergonnabemuchmorethanweather @katwithlove and anyone else who wants to do answer! Seriously, I love having people respond even if I didn’t tag someone.

#love these things

8 notes · View notes

jq37 · 5 years ago

Note

May we have a recap, please? :)

**spoilers for panic at the art show and home for the holidays**

OK people. I actually don’t have a ton of commentary on these two so I’m gonna try and keep it (relatively) short and sweet [Edit from Future Me: Failed Step 1].

Also, iirc, this is the week Dropout starts streaming new Fantasy High eps on Wednesdays which is very dope and I am very excited for. I probably won’t do full on recaps like I do for normal eps because, lbr, I don’t strictly have the time to be recapping these eps at all and it’s pure stubbornness that keeps me from making wiser time management decisions. But, rest assured, if I have an Opinion, you will hear it whether you want to or not.

Anyway, on with the show.

Last recap, I mentioned that this ep was giving me Aelwen house party vibes and now it reminds me of that ep in another way: Everyone rolled like TRASH almost the entire ep. It was so frustrating! They barely got any hits in until like halfway through the ep.

(Aw man, I just realized I’m gonna have to remember which spelling of Aelwen is correct again now that FH is coming back.)

I love how Murph is immediately like, “I need to make sure my wife doesn’t die during this fight avenging her fictional husband.”

Isabella also has Aelwen’s trick of poofing around the battlefield which is annoying as hell (ha) for the group.

Siobhan hilariously casts fear on Priya just to be spiteful. I thought she was doing it to help the evac process but no. It was a purely spiteful action. Bless.

When Kug turns into an ape he, of course, turns into *the* NY ape, King Kong.

“I roll a nat 20 on an epic shit.”

When Brennan was describing Kingston’s spectral New Yorker Guardians I was already thinking about that one part of Spiderman 2 (the OG Toby Mac version) and then he straight up said, “You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us,” and I lost it.

“Deny the stairs the pleasure of my feet.” Emily is a poet.

I want to know what makes a pigeon spicy more than anything.

The fact that Brennan killed Ox AGAIN and then immediately looked into the camera and let the audience know the dog was fine because he clearly Oracle stared into the future between eps and saw the entire internet sharpening their pitchforks was so funny.

About midway through the ep, Pete tries and fails to send Isabella back to hell and Isabella starts monologing about her plans and connection with Robert Moses (she stole the list from Santa and is/was gonna marry Moses apparently). I wonder if Brennan was like, “These players are for sure gonna murder her without getting any useful info out of her unless she goes full Bond Villain right now.”

And, proving my point, Emily immediately does 56 points of damage, royally f-ing Isabella up.

This is a really civilian heavy fight which feels weird in a way the FH fights never did. Like, these aren’t even civilians who live in an adventuring town in a fantasy world. These are just normal ass civilians in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Pete fails a wild magic roll after failing to teleport into the building and then gets a choice of getting really strong (which prob would have let him bust down the door) or to teleport in (which is what he does and exactly what he wanted). Very clutch when the dice rolls play into the story like that.

Kingston lightning bolts Isabella’s hair off which is just malicious but also totally called for.

On her next turn, Sophie gets hurt on purpose to get low enough to activate her ring, lets her hair burn for long enough to shorten it to a cute bob, insults Isabella, then knocks her tf out.

I love that Emily took one of her teeth (a seemingly crazy move) and when called out by Lou was like, “It’s a link to Robert Moses” (a completely reasonable answer). That’s the Axford one-two punch.

I didn’t mention it before but, Willie the golem is here, first immobile but then brought back by Misty. Post fight, he says he was somehow brought here by one of the evil factions of the city and says they’ll talk about it later. Also, Misty makes out with him (DON’T KINKSHAME HER).

With a high insight roll, Kingston is able to deduce that the group was ambushed (though not by Priya) and that their victory was a really important one for the fate of the city.

(Sidenote: The amount that Pete is Over Priya in this ep is so funny.)

Back at Wally’s (which is where Kug is now staying) Wally has gotten Kug a dog bed to sleep in and fancy charcuterie cheese because he and Ricky are the only pure-hearted people in NYC.

At the same time, Pete and Kingston have a very sweet heart to heart and then settle down at Kingston’s place to chill and listen to jazz. Idk how else we expected this to resolve, considering this is a Brennan Lee Mulligan DM’d show where the sacred pillars are Teamwork, Friendship, Communication, and Making up an NPC on the Fly Because One of Your PC’s Decided to do an Insane Thing.

Next up is the Christmas ep and Brennan, Emily, and Zac are in sweaters for the occasion.

Well,actually it’s the 21st and Emily immediately clocks that that’s the solstice.

Are cookies the good carb?/Absolutely not. But have fun with your life. (I love Ricky’s soft jock energy.)

“I run deliveries,” Pete says to Kingston’s parents, not technically lying but also not being completely truthful. Misty would be proud.

Going over to Misty, it seems pretty clear at this point (and it’s confirmed in the promo for next ep) that Misty’s fairy business is some kind of de-aging/reincarnation for herself. I wonder how many of these she’s done so far. She said she’s been around for, what? 200, 300 years? Assuming she’s been doing then reincarnations at about 65-70 years old and she reincarnates to around 25? Maybe 6 times? Idk. Just spitballing.

Saucer of milk to keep the faeries from stealing her (non-existing) children. Faerie lore is wild y'all.

Did you take another level of warlock?/Yeah bitch.

The fact that since Sophie has joined a monastery, she’s only taken Warlock levels and no Monk levels is very funny from a story perspective. It’s like, she finally comes to this sacred place to be trained to her full potential and she’s just spending what should be her sparring time playing with her cat in exchange for spells. Wild.

Emily’s cat-like, self-satisfied grin when Brennan is like, “So you just jerry-rigged yourself clairvoyance powers, huh?” is so good.

And she did it on the fly because Emily Axford is winning D&D. There are no points but she’s winning.

So, uh, Emily does, two things, very in character right after the other:

Thing number one: She send her unseen servant to spy on her family. Her dad seems hardline, “F, Dale. Whatever. Family first. She needs to get over it.” On the other side of the spectrum is her mom who is very upset about the whole affair with her siblings falling in the middle.

The second thing she does, very casually I might add, is have her unseen servant BURN DOWN HER HOUSE SO SHE CAN COMMIT INSURANCE FRAUD.

EMILY

Everyone loses their minds and rightfully so. What a wild-ass swing that no one could have seen coming. I love it.

“I look in my backpack which is now my home[…]"

I almost forgot that Ricky was a fire fighter who would not abide that nonsense until Brennan decided to cut to him.

Ricky just dolphin swims across the Hudson in 2.5 mins to go put out the fire that Sophie set. Amazing.

Ally mocking Emily/Sophie: Truthfully, I don’t know what happened.

"I love John McClane, because he loves his wife.” WALLY

Wally: Oh we’re gonna tell a lie on Christmas.

“This is what winning looks like.”

I would really like to know what trace stuff what on the drugs Pete got from 7 but Ally rolled too low to figure it out.

“I disassociate fully."

Well it took him a long ass time but glad to have Pete on the selling drugs to kids is bad train. Choo-choo, dude.

7 saying you can hack in real life in reference to his AK-47 has the same energy as Hardison using the word hack in literally any semi-weird episode of Leverage.

SOCIAL MEDIA IS VOLUNTARY PANOPTICON

So Kug goes with Wally to David’s house disguised as a dog and, despite that, blurts out that he’s his dad immediately. Well, he tries to. The Umbral Arcana stops him, unfortunately.

"I lick my son’s face.” KUUUUG.

Sophie showing up with a raw goose and hellish rebuking it is so metal and it’s a shame no one got to appreciate it.

Me when Sophie’s Mom changes into black top in solidarity for Sophie’s mourning: F EVERY OTHER NON-SOPHIE BICICLETA. I RESPECT YOU.

Kingston is hustling very hard to get his man Pete a job which is a very Kingston move. That’s how guys like that show affection.

Didn’t mention it before but Kingston’s parents and Mom specifically adopting Pete is very cute.

Sidenote: Idk what 7 was talking about Pete trying to stay low profile. He wears a cowboy hat (now a ZEBRA STRIPED one, courtesy of Kingston). I think the subtlety train has sailed my guy.

Esther shows up at the firehouse, carrying presents for her mom and grandma and looking for Ricky. The says that she’s kinda dealing with something and it feels good to be around him (beat) magically speaking. Sure. I’m gonna keep my Hercules soundtrack on hand just in case anyway.

I think Ricky is the only person who, with no pretense, could give his crush a sexy calendar featuring him.

Anyway, turns out Esther’s mom and grandma are the furies of Tompkins Square and she’s fated to join them or something.

Esther causally: I defy you, I defy the prophecy.

The fury thing would explain why Esther’s mom would have cursed Kug. They are famously magical punishers.

Ricky is a magically certified Good Boy but we been knew.

Zac’s restraint to respect Esther’s personal boundaries in lieu of getting a lore drop to stay true to Ricky’s character is amazing. Mad props.

So we slide over to Misty’s Christmas party which Stephen Sondhein is attending and him having a character card kinda killed me.

There’s a post on tumblr somewhere about playing faerie incapability for impoliteness against a vampires need to be invited in and that’s what I thought about when Moses and his vamp friends showed up at Misty’s house.

Robert tries to talk Misty into striking a deal with him for protection from Titania. She’s very much not having it.

“You know Robert, I love a comedy and I love a farce. I’d like to remind you of who it is that started this and it’s not me and it’s not my friends but I can assure you Robert Moses that we will be the ones to end it if you do not. Do you understand me?” Damn. That’s a mic drop from Misty.

[As I’m editing this, I’m realizing I somehow lost a BIG chunk of text. I’m not gonna write it all up again but the Cliffnotes are as follows:

Between the Solstice and Christmas, the gang goes Grand Central Station to see the clockwork gnomes that live there because trouble is apparently afoot. Some size changing nonsense happens and Pete shoots a dog (with mini bullets, the dog is fine). Lou is enchanted even though Kingston is not (a common theme with him). Ally and Emily are on the same nonsense wavelength (as usual).

There are dope magical dragon trains under Grand Central Station that go to the shadow realm which is a place I’d like to know about. Kingston has never seen these trains before even though you’d really think he would have.

Murph says Gnome Rights which is wild if you know what Naddpod is like.

Anyway, the high priestess of the gnomes passed out the other day and they figure out it was due to pixie magic which is suspicious. They also know they pixies have access to a “time stone” which leads me to believe that it’s Brennan and not Aguefort who thinks that Chronomancy is the most powerful magic of all.

Sophie and Jackson go to Dale’s grave on Christmas. Jackson explains that the Order of the Concrete Fist is basically a literal school of hard knocks. A counterbalance to all the reach for the stars dreaminess that comes with NYC.

Dale was their chosen one who was supposed to stop the monastery from falling when some unspecified badness crossed over to this side, but when he went to the place where he was supposed to get guidance, there was no one there (clearly tying in to what Dale said to Sophie last time they talked. I wonder what she needs to get to the top of? Empire State maybe?).

Watching Murph watching Emily, his real life spouse, play at grief for her fictional husband and do some truly insane things is so funny because you can clearly see him thinking, “I am married to this woman,” which, in fairness, is probably the main thing he’s thinking when he’s playing D&D with Emily.

I’m probably missing something but that’s all I remember. Back to post-Christmas!]

So it’s opening night at Misty’s show and, somehow, Ricky’s first show ever.

I love that Don Confetti is there because of Siobhan’s offhanded comment for a handful of eps ago about him being a supporter of the arts.

Anyway, everything is going great until the second act when Titania busts in through the mirror which is *not* is storage as Misty requested but on stage. It’s a theater fight, y'all! And not the West Side Story kind although if that doesn’t come up I will be very surprised.

“Let’s kill Titania!” –Misty in the promo

Just going straight to 11, huh Misty?

See y'all then!

#dimension 20 #the unsleeping city #d20 #asks #kickmuncher3

36 notes · View notes