#faorism
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You guys went all in on becoming better people and you brought me along for the ride.
#leverage#leverageedit#leverage redemption#leverage redemption spoilers#eliot spencer#sophie devereaux#mine:photoset#faorism#for you bud#i love this man with my whole ass
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For @faorism who enables me :D
(the song I think is the PERFECT Astarion song, which is MIKA's Grace Kelly).
The idea is that Astarion needs to be all these things to survive so his identity feels lost. Tho the “why don’t you like me” gets increasingly sweet (the Wyll romance gets nicer, it is clear Wyll adores him even if Astarion is sure it is just his mask that is liked) and by the end what Astarion can be takes a positive spin! He can be anything! He can even resist Cazador's attempt to control him (I love that rare scene!)
So here is an Astarion video! It is focused on him, and Wyll is the player character basically.
#wyllstarion#astarion#spawn astarion#astarion ancunin#wyll#but mainly astarion in this case#baldur's gate 3#fanvid#my fanvideo#mine#faorism#bg3 fanvids
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gods a good crossover can knock your block off. do you know how bad i wish this mod was real now??
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how many pairs of fingerless gloves do regency au parker and eliot have combined
Like any sailor or soldier worth their salt, Elliot is adept at knitting and darning.
He made countless items for himself and his comrades to survive the elements while at sea or during a campaign, which must include several pairs of what are technically called mitts.
Even now, during London’s harsh winters, Elliot knits any wool he can get his hands on. In his current line of work, mitts are specifically helpful to disguise his knuckles - busted and bruised in his boxing matches (thanks @msmongoose for the suggestion!)
In her day job as a scullery maid, Parker has to traipse through drafty townhouses and light the fires each morning, so I’m sure Elliot is eager to provide any cozy accessory she needs 🥹
BTW if you don’t know what I’m talking about, this is in reference to the post below which is the basis for what I’m now calling Leverage: Regency lol.
@faorism sent me so many great questions which I can’t wait to answer, so stay tuned
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what's your favorite kind of bread
I looooooove croissants (and chocolate croissants)
I’m partial to white bread for sandwiches etc
I love the hard dinner rolls and baguettes as well
bread bowls for soup are where it’s AT
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pronoun pin but it says ‘fag/dyke’
#queer#if this already exists please tell me. I want it#mine#faorism#will you second this motion for me so it can pass
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CRAB CRAB CRAB CRAB CRAB etc
THANK YOU FOR MY FUCKING LIFE FAOR
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uwu for fic meme
Knew it! 🫶
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a quick dash of a drawing for wyll week: flowers featuring wyll troubled with hanahaki disease due to one particular well coiffed rogue. an untraditional bouquet for their romance features:
wallflower for faithfulness in adversity
southernwood for constancy and jest
just a few hyacinth leaves and individual flowers for a touch of sport, playfulness, and rashness
and of course, sweet william for gallantry
EDIT: astarion now has a companion piece!
#wyll ravengard#astarion#wyllstarion#wyllweek2024#bloodpact#bg3 astarion#bg3 wyll#baldurs gate 3#faorism fanart
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#look i understand her/them/him/it on a deeper level#parker#parker leverage#partially inspired by parkers transmasc swag partially by how shes a trans woman partially bc i saw#i think it was faorism said theyre in lesbian love with eliot
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You make it look good, but not too good, all right? Don't make it go past the second round.
#leverage#leverageedit#eliot spencer#mine:photoset#faorism#here you go bestie. i elaborated a bit on your request hope that's 👌👌👌
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maslow's hierarchy of needs but all the levels are characters with a bit of belly pudge
#faorism requested this as a separate post and I am laughing SO much about it (they're right tho)#this is about many things actually but chiefly#eliot spencer#of leverage fame#body neutrality ftw all bodies are just bodies but also.#when actors are allowed. a bit of pudge. and we get to see it <3 <3 <3#it heals the soul.#don't mind me#the belly pudge post#orig
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how do regency au nate and sophie meet?
[This is in reference to my Leverage: Regency post found here]
{thanks to @pieplease for editing}
Of course the vicar once met a "Mrs. Clive" at one of the earl's dinner parties....
The vicar saw Mrs. Clive slip into the music room while the rest of the party enjoyed pre-dinner drinks and conversation in the Earl of Iysex’s drawing room.
Before he knew what he was doing, the reverend Mr. Nathaniel Ford wandered away from his place beside his wife and toward the open doorway that separated them. He got some strange looks from Maggie and the rest of the party, but no one said anything, not even to interrupt the countess’ sister’s bawdy story. Nate didn’t expect them to; No one wants to question the man who just lost his child about anything. He gave a polite nod to anyone still watching and went to the sideboard first.
The liveried footman stationed there saw him and reached for the decanter of the excellent port the earl had taken out of his stores for the occasion. Nate waved him away and took up the decanter himself. If Lord Iain Blackpoole, the Earl of Iysex was going to open his cellars, the vicar wasn’t going to let him be stingy about it.
He poured himself more than he ought. The footman stared at the opposite wall. Only Maggie was still looking.
As he tipped his glass in her direction—a toast to the awful playacting their marriage had become in the last four months—she flushed an angry red and turned away.
He entered the music room.
Mrs. Clive did not seem to notice as she busily shuffled a folio of sheet music on top of the pianoforte, the reddish wood glossy with lacquer and gleaming. Iysex bought it just a week after Sam—
Mrs. Clive put the papers back down and turned. She seemed surprised to see him. Her hand was on her throat and slid, well…well below her throat, where the hem of her silk evening gown met a very sheer fichu.
Mrs. Clive was a very attractive woman, and she appeared to commit the societal sin of knowing it. But that wasn’t why he came into the music room, nor was it why he searched her face so intently.
It was just that she had chosen to come into the music room at the precise moment that the rest of the party was being scandalized by Lady Blackpoole’s sister, when all of the attention was on the other side of the room. And there was something about her expression of surprise, how it held, and how it was already formed, complete with her hand on her chest, before she should have even seen him.
“Mr. Ford! I simply cannot believe his lordship has three such lovely and accomplished daughters, but there is no music here from before the last century!” She waved her hand at the folio and then waited for him to respond.
“Indeed,” was all he said.
“I know the girls must hear the new songs in London. Do you get up to town at all? As a vicar?” Mrs. Clive’s warm brown eyes never left his. Not even to glance down at the overfull glass.
She was hiding something.
But what?
She had all the trappings of the upper ten-thousand, but she had to be introduced to everyone at the party that evening. Only Iysex and his wife seemed to know her.
“Is that where you met Lady Blackpoole?”
She barely even blinked, but her charming smile spread. “Of course! And she was very kind to invite me here while my husband is on the continent… for business.” There was a stutter there at the end. Nate thought it might be rehearsed, a little hesitation that told its own story if a man was listening.
In any case, all one would require to gain familiarity with that set would be the right fashion and the right manners, which she had. Then, to manufacture a chance introduction where all the gentry gathered in “town”: Almack’s, Vauxhall, or the like.
Rev. Nate Ford had served Iysex’s parish for almost twenty years, he could imagine how easy it would be for an unknown to ingratiate themselves with a class of people so assured of their own superiority—hadn’t he done something of the kind?
“Lady Blackpoole is very kind,” he agreed.
Her gaze finally released him, flicking over his shoulder to the door a second before the countess entered. “They just said dinner is ready—Oh Mrs. Clive, you’ve found the pianoforte I was telling you about!”
“I hope you don’t mind that I took a peek.”
“No, no, my dear! Not at all!” She turned to Nate and explained. “Mrs. Clive has agreed to take this gorgeous instrument off our hands. I love it dearly, but the girls have no interest in playing at all, even though I brought out my old songbook,” she sighed. “But Mrs. Clive has three daughters of her own—can you imagine that?” Nate could. “And they’re all very musical, so it will be put to good use somewhere.”
“They’ll adore it, your ladyship,” Mrs. Clive said with a deferential bow.
Nate thought she might be laying on a little thick, but the countess replied with a self-satisfied “There!”
“Though, your ladyship…” Mrs. Clive still had her head bowed. “I did notice…but of course this can wait until tomorrow.”
“Of course not. What is it, dear?” Lady Blackpoole’s voice mimicked the anxiety in Mrs. Clive’s.
“It’s only, you see, I believe a chord is snapped. She pushed down a key, it landed with a click, bit nothing else. Then she cleared the sheet music and opened the top to reveal rows of taught metal thread, broken by one cable, snapped and lying limp on the wooden floor of the instrument.
It wasn’t a clean break, Nate noted with some pride in Mrs. Clive’s craftsmanship; he had decided she was a thief now, or at least an exceedingly presumptuous acquaintance. No, instead it was unraveled and frayed as if it was pulled too tightly and exercised too rarely. She probably took a knife to it, hacking at an angle.
“It’s already such an expense to transport it,” Mrs. Clive was saying. “I have no idea what shape it will be in if it reaches London.”
Lady Blackpoole was nodding along as Mrs. Clive continued, “My Sarah knows her way around instruments better than I. She will know what must be done and what must be paid for…”
“Oh you mustn't think I would have offered it in such a state!” Lady Blackpoole fretted. “Truly, Mrs. Clive, I believed it was in excellent condition. We bought it new and it’s barely been played!”
“It needs to be played,” Nate said. He didn’t know why, other than that he hated the instrument. He hated it for what the cost could have gone to, and he wanted Lord and Lady Blackpoole to part with it and all the money Mrs. Clive could take from them.
The countess and Mrs. Clive were looking at him now, so he kept talking. “As part of an instrument’s care it must be played regularly. Disuse can lead to disrepair. I can’t speak to London prices, your ladyship, but I imagine that the cost of treating such an expensive instrument would be considerable.”
While Lady Blackpoole fretted, Mrs. Clive continued to look. Her lips were quirked up and there was a quizzical furrow between her eyebrows. It was her turn to try and figure him out.
He shrugged and took a long sip from his glass, half draining it, even under a lady’s scrutiny.
The countess looked truly embarrassed by now. “When you return to town and have completed the repairs, do write to his lordship’s bank and I will see to it you shall be reimbursed in full, Mrs. Clive. I cannot let this gift become a burden!”
Mrs. Clive lavished thanks and praise on the countess and assured her it would not spoil their young friendship, but her eyes kept straying to the vicar. Nate couldn’t help but smile. He set his drink aside as he followed the two ladies back into the drawing room, feeling more like he had witnessed a play than a robbery.
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Sterling for the character meme!
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tell me about the suits fic
You've Got An Artistry (The Way That You Are With Me)
ooooh. okay so this is the longest thing i've ever potentially abandoned (13.6k) which is why i'm not actually willing to say it's abandoned, especially given it's more than two-thirds done. the problem is that I started writing it so long ago that the writing at the beginning is just. not up to my current standard meaning that I would either have to do a serious amount of editing or accept that I'm posting my pre-2020 writing in, well, 2023 and i Do Not Like either of those things. i DO still like at least some of the fic though. you see my quandary.
It's canon-divergent around the end of s8, Harvey's mother dies half a season earlier than she does in canon and Mike flies back to help him through it and goes to Boston with him and also reveals that he and Rachel are in the middle of divorcing. and this is a long snippet hence readmore but it's my favourite bit of writing from it, from the end of the first chapter, and. well, in case it never actually gets posted-
send me a wip name and i’ll tell you things about it/present a snippet! show and tell!
There is a chill in Penn Station, evening ice creeping underground and weaving dances through the air. The hanging notice board proclaims that there is seven minutes until their train arrives, and that it will continue its inexorable countdown. Mike is standing just a little closer than anyone watching might expect, just enough that they might blink and look again and reassess their opinion of who these men might be, and Harvey can almost use the cold for plausible deniability.
The board says six minutes, and Mike shifts next to him, pushing his hands deeper into his coat.
“When I arrived,” he says, out of the blue. “You said ‘five-hour flight’, straight away. How did you know that?”
“You’re not the only one that can remember things, Spencer,” Harvey retorts, quick as you like, and Mike snorts. He doesn’t need to know that Harvey’s been looking at New York-Seattle flights every week for a year.
The board says five minutes, and a woman sitting on one of the hard benches, wearing a grey wool coat that Harvey knows costs well over $1000, sighs and shrugs it off, revealing a sweatshirt and track pants. Harvey tries not to read too much into the dropping of disguises, tries not to apply a stranger’s vignette to his own life, and fails.
The board says four minutes, and Mike nudges Harvey in the side. “Hey, do you have any change on you?”
Harvey frowns at him. “Why?”
“I want chips. And gummy worms.”
“And you expect me to finance your junk food addiction.”
Mike shrugs. “You can share them?”
“Fine.” He passes the coins to Mike, the brush of their fingers lingering for long seconds after Mike has already walked off towards the vending machine.
The board says three minutes, and a man looks at his phone, shakes his head, and leaves the platform. Half of Harvey wants to follow him, to grab Mike and run back to the apartment and lock the door and turn off the phones. There’s no bad news if there’s no-one to deliver it.
The board says two minutes, and Mike wanders back, dropping two silver coins into his hand and brandishing his bags of vacuous calories. Harvey flips one of the coins into the air, almost without realising, and Mike calls, “Heads!” as it spins in the air, light dancing off it.
“What are we flipping for?” Harvey asks, catching it on the back of his hand and immediately covering it with the other.
“I don’t know. Life? Love? If I win you spend the rest of your life in indentured servitude to me?”
Harvey shakes his head, and smiles, and lifts his hand off. “You win,” he tells Mike, as if it weren’t a foregone conclusion.
The board says one minute, and train lights appear, early, at the end of the tunnel. Harvey doesn’t know if he’d have rather it had been early or late, but it’s not as if he ever had any control over the situation. As they step onto the train, the board seamlessly moves onto the next countdown, for the next set of lives.
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Masterlist time!
Flaws (fanvid) for nickelkeep by paperairplanesopenwindows
golden frost and silver fangs for sunlitroses by DelektorskiChick
hitters and hackers and thieves (and grifters and masterminds), oh my! for Silver_Cleo by tacewrites
More Than I Deserve for faorism by kiss_me_cassie
[Podfic] Eye Level for Fangirlshrewt97 by ShakespeareStoleMyURL
At the End of a Rope for MoonlightBreeze by Arithanas
The Overcoming Claustrophobia Job for CrazyT by musingmidge77
The Double Oh Seven Job for PunxsutawneyPhil by seraphina_snape
Discovery for kiss_me_cassie by mewCoyote
The Replacement Kitchen Job for Arithanas by icestar663
The Go Fetch Job for 4AcesofSpades by SleepySsnail
Connections for paperairplanesopenwindows by Rivulet027
Couer du Voleur for mewCoyote by nickelkeep
Lost Daughter for poppetawoppet by ladyjax
[FANART] warmth in a familiar place for meils121 by faorism
I don't care about much other than this. for tacewrites by PunxsutawneyPhil
A Confession of Want: Trying to Steal an Eliot for seraphina_snape for thegraceofebonee
brush off the dust (and stagger back to the start) for Rivulet027 by poppetawoppet
The Lean On Me Jobs for DelektorskiChick by Canon_Is_Relative
Operation: Save Christmas for SleepySsnail by MelliaBee
Truth and Love for thegraceofebonee by magnetgirl
The World Sucks, Use Your Anger for magnetgirl by Fangirlshrewt97
[FANART] tidings of a peaceful day for icestar663 by faorism
A Tale in Five Bowls for musingmidge77 by sunlitroses
[it's] never where you think you left it for Canon_Is_Relative by DelektorskiChick
The Art of the Grift for ladyjax by seraphina_snape
Close Call for The_Tomorrow_Road by 4AcesofSpades
Soft Launch for ShakespeareStoleMyURL by ladyjax
Middle of the Road for Babythor by SleepySsnail
The Nerf Noel for MelliaBee by serenelystrange
#leverage#leverage redemption#leveragesecretsanta#leverage secret santa#leverage secret santa 2023#leveragesecretsanta2023#reveals
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