#eliot is a natural

[trekscribbles]

Sophie loves to go dancing, but she rarely goes with Nate. He takes it too seriously, and he always get involved in the dance hall politics. Plus, as technical and detail oriented as he is, he isn't really good at dancing. He can do the steps, but he doesn't understand how to let himself get swept away by the music.

The first time she asked Eliot, he laughed at her. Said there was no way he was going to spend his night off in some dusty ballroom when he could be at home relaxing. She'd shrugged it off, having anticipated his refusal, and had gone by herself, intending to find a partner when she got there.

Except when she showed up, she found Eliot dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair pulled back in a pony tail, mumbling something about not wanting her to have to go without a partner.

The next time she asked, he complained about how slippery his shoes were and how handsy Mrs. Gunderson had been during the open dance, but he picked Sophie up at 6 and dropped her off at 10 and smiled most of the time between.

A week after that, she found a flyer for a foxtrot competition slipped under her door, with the note "I'm free on Saturday" scrawled across the bottom.

(They won.)

They go several times a month now. Hardison laughs when he finds out, but Eliot says it's good exercise. Parker is very excited about their trophy but loses interest when she finds out it's plastic. Nate comes to watch sometimes, because as much as he dislikes dancing himself, he appreciates the skill involved.

(Maybe he's picking up pointers. He'll never tell.)

[zegalba]

Eliot Porter: Luna Moth (1958)

[yardsards]

the dungeon meshi fandom is so real for seeing falin's canonical body type (medium but with soft features) and saying "actually. she should be fat"

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

"Pick the guys up and put them in the bin!"

Leverage S05E03 The First Contact Job.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

The purpose of all literature is to make the reader see and feel and understand himself and the world.

- T.S. Eliot

[auntieblues]

“This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.” ― T.S. Eliot

[nobeerreviews]

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

-- George Eliot

[geopsych]

All things enjoy ecstatic union with nature. Life without ecstasy is not true life and not worth living. Without ecstasy the soul becomes shriveled and perverted, the mind becomes corrupt and the body suffers pain. Ecstatic union with nature is necessary for normal health. It is necessary for survival.

—Eliot Cowan, Plant Spirit Medicine

[security-chief-odo]

The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 3

Elliot Spencer x Reader

Chapter 1 & Chapter 2

Note: So sorry for the hiatus. Life got in the way. Thank you for sticking around and being so patient with me 💕

Word Count: ~1.9k

Description: You wake up in a comfortable warmth the morning of the wedding. This leaves Eliot consuming your every thought as you get ready.

• • •

You start to stir as you feel the light of the sun creep through the sheer curtains of the hotel room. You feel a comfortable warmth envelop you and sink further into it, seeking shelter from the harsh chill of the room.

Suddenly you feel the bed shift under you and realize the warmth you’re feeling is Eliot’s chest beneath you. His arms are wrapped around you as he pulls you close in his sleep.

A soft smile graces Eliot’s no longer sleeping face as he feels you cuddle closer to him. He knows he won’t often get the chance to hold you like this so he pretends to not notice the way you breathe hitches with every movement. He may never get to hold you like this again but he will dream happily at night at just the memory of your soft skin against his calloused hands.

You lay there, eyes now open, as still as you can and just soak in this seemingly unconscious act of affection. This isn’t like every other touch of this torturous weekend. This is real, perhaps unintentional, but real nonetheless. This isn’t for an audience, this is just Eliot holding you to him as he rests.

Sadly the moment is ripped from you as you hear your sister knock on the door to your room. Eliot pretends to startle awake and you do the same as you quickly pull away from each other.

“Y/N!” your sister calls out. “We gotta get going. The makeup artist will be at the venue in half an hour.” Eliot lays back down, now that he knows the disturbance had nothing to do with him.

You sigh and roll out of bed. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten!”

You wash your face and brush your teeth as you try to calm your racing thoughts.

By the time you leave the bathroom, Eliot has settled back in to sleep, stretching his body across nearly the entire bed. You can’t help the smile that crosses your face at the sight of the nearly always tense hitter at ease for once.

You grab your dress and the small day bag you had for the trip and close the door as quietly as you can.

***

You and the other girls are chatting in the green robes your sister gave you each as gifts. You are in the middle of getting your hair done when a text lights up your phone.

Eliot: Did your sister plan lunch for all of you?

“Ooh, you’re blushing y/n” you hear the voice of your sister’s best friend from across the room, “Texting your new man?”

The other girls chuckle and they continue to talk amongst themselves.

You roll your eyes and pretend to ignore them, but can feel the blush light up your cheeks. You show your sister the text to get her answer.

“Mom talked about running to the store and picking up salads or sandwiches later. I just don’t want anything that will upset my stomach. It’s already in knots with everything else today.” She points down the hall and adds, “There’s a kitchen through there if you want her to pick you something to make instead though.”

“Thanks,” you reply as you type out your response.

Y/n: My mom might be picking something up. There’s a kitchen in the bridal suite so we have options. Why?

Eliot: Tell your mom not to worry about it. If it’s alright with your sister, I’ll take care of lunch for you ladies.

Your sister elbows you lightly as she teases, “Do you smile like that at every text or just when pretty boys with long hair text you?”

“You should see the smile I save for spam texts” you deadpan back at her. “Eliot wants to bring us all lunch if that’s alright with you.”

“He’s handsome, has a southern accent and he cooks? Should I be expecting the save the dates when I get back from my honeymoon?” The shit eating grin on her face widens at your clear embarrassment.

“So is that a yes on lunch?”

“Yeah, and tell him I said thank you.”

The hair stylist interrupts “Alright, you’re good to go and I’m ready for the bride.”

You swap places with your sister and grab your phone.

Y/n: She said she’d appreciate you bringing food.

Eliot: Perfect. I’ll be there in 30 and I’ll make y’all something fresh.

Y/n: Thanks! You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.

Your heart sinks in your chest as you read over your own words. It is for the best to stay reminded of the reality of the situation. It would only hurt more if you let yourself get fully lost in it. In just a couple of days everything will return to normal and you’ll still be pining after Eliot and he will remain blissfully unaware.

You try to brush off these thoughts and be present with the others and most importantly, your sister. You put your phone away and rejoin the conversation. “Eliot said he’ll be here in 30 to make us lunch.”

“Damn,” your sister’s maid of honor chimes in, “Where did you find him again and does he have any single friends?”

You and the others laugh at her joke. “I don’t know, with looks like that, I’m more interested to know if he has a brother.” adds in one of the bridesmaids.

Before long the makeup artist is done with the mother of the groom’s makeup and it is your turn in the chair. You settle in and try to distract yourself from Eliot’s imminent arrival by listening to the idle conversation the other women are having.

Part of you is excited that he’s showing up, in small part due to the rumble your stomach lets out, but mostly just because it’s Eliot, and you are a fool who couldn’t help falling head over heels for him. The minutes pass as you try to calm your ever increasing heart rate, but the moment you hear a rapping at the door, your heart begins practically beating out of your chest.

The artist only has your makeup a little over halfway done, so the maid of honor lets him in.He drops off an armful of groceries in the kitchen that the maid of honor leads him to and follows her back to the room you are all in.

He smiles softly at you, which you miss completely as the artist works on your eye makeup. “Hey beautiful,” he says, setting your cheeks ablaze, before turning to the rest of the room,”I should have lunch ready for you ladies in about 20 minutes.” With that he turns on his heel and leaves the room before you have a moment to reply.

The makeup artist makes quick work of the rest of your makeup as the girls chatter around you. Your sister in the chair next to you looks over at you and teases “Damn, y/n. If that’s how he looks at you when you’re not even done being dolled up, I don’t know how he’s gonna tear his eyes away from you long enough to even notice there’s a wedding happening around him in a couple hours.”

In lieu of being able to roll your eyes at your sister, you opt to flip her off.

A bridesmaid chimes in “No, she’s right y/n. That man is absolutely smitten with you.” For a moment, you almost let yourself believe it, but you know he was just playing it up for the girls. After all, that’s what you asked him to do.

Moments later the artist wraps up and finally you are free to go see Eliot in the kitchen. You quietly approach, and of course Eliot hears your steps and knows exactly who it is, but he pretends not to notice you standing in the doorway. He likes when you watch him and maybe he knows if he took the time to look at you right now, he wouldn’t be able to resist holding you in his arms again and you leaving this morning already nearly broke him.

You take in his frame, his arms flexing under his henley as he expertly chops up the last couple of vegetables in front of him, a few strands of his hair falling into his face from his half-ponytail, and those jeans that fit his ass just a little too well for your thoughts to remain pure. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re already in love with him because this almost vulnerable sight would be enough to make anyone fall for him. “Hey beautiful,” you parrot his earlier words back at him.

A goofy, lopsided smile crosses his face, as he puts the knife down and begins assembling sandwiches. He looks into your eyes, not daring to even let his eyes drift as far as your nose. “Hey,” he almost whispers “What can I do for you?”

“You’re already doing more than enough Eliot. I really just came in here to say thank you. Not just for this,” you gesture at the food, “but for this entire weekend. I know it’s a lot to ask of anyone and I really appreciate you doing this for me. I owe you one”

Returning his attention to the food he replies “You don’t owe me a damn thing sweetheart. I’m just happy to help.” He begins cutting the sandwiches into fourths diagonally, of course and you start taking them and placing them on the tray to at least help a little.

Your heart skips a beat when your hands graze against each other as he hands you the pieces that were on the other side of the knife. It is far from the most intimate touch you have had with him, but just like this morning, the private moments, even the unintentional ones, are a lot harder to brush off as part of the performance.

As you finish laying the different kind of sandwiches on the tray, he goes to the fridge and grabs a charcuterie board he had clearly made himself before you entered the kitchen. It was this sight that finally made your stomach let out a rumble. He looked you up and down before asking “Hungry?” with a smile.

“A little.” you joke in return.

He reaches around you to grab the sandwich tray. With both hands full, he leans over and kisses your cheek before replying “Then lead the way princess.”

And with that small act, clearly not an accident nor an act you were left reeling as you rejoin the others. He places the two platters on the table before “I will see you this evening, but I think your sister would be pissed if I show up to the wedding like this.”

Your sister laughs, “Well, he’s not wrong.”

With that, he takes his leave with a quick peck on your lips and a polite wave to the room. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can only hope nobody can tell.

• • •

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think

Taglist: @mini-kunoichi @javicstories @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @being-worthy@xkell-bellx @imaginecrushes @sleeplessskeleton @fablesrose

[bananaphone---t]

Eliot probably watches Hell's Kitchen in his downtime, and there's nothing you can do to make me think otherwise

[leverage-ot3]

I deeply need everyone to know that there is no monogamous explanation for this

literally no way this is straight

[sketchyandsketches]

A little dtiys challenge I did for @viccerys 2k event on insta!

[37storms]

IV The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms In this last of meeting places We grope together And avoid speech Gathered on this beach of the tumid river Sightless, unless The eyes reappear As the perpetual star Multifoliate rose Of death’s twilight kingdom The hope only Of empty men.

- The Hollow Men | T. S. Eliot

[yardsards]

a pet headcanon of mine is that after they're done with the sigil removal, emira expands her horizons and starts studying the psychological side of healing, pulling in some resources from the human realm and combining it with boiling isles methods (i imagine the field of psychology in the boiling isles, while existent, was often pushed aside as just a lesser branch of the healing coven back when belos was in charge. i do imagine there's often magic like the memory tweezers involved)

and i imagine she ends up focusing in on like, art therapy and self-expression, because she knows how important that can be, after having her individuality stifled so hard when she was young

[unionizedwizard]

went to bed at 4am, woke up (naturally) at 7:30am and look at me. i'm fresh and dandy (= forgot to put my glasses on while going to the bakery and thought "damn, world sure is blurry today, huh")

[typhlonectes]

"The Months" - February (1951) by Eliot Hodgkin (British, 1905-1987)

tempera, 26.7 x 22.3 cm - The Ramsbury Manor Foundation