i might just start fresh since i only had 520-ish posts @.@
Misplaced Lens Cap
Today's Document

#extradirty
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$LAYYYTER

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we're not kids anymore.
noise dept.
Cosimo Galluzzi

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祝日 / Permanent Vacation

pixel skylines

Discoholic 🪩
wallacepolsom
Three Goblin Art
todays bird
Claire Keane
Cosmic Funnies

Kaledo Art

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seen from Australia

seen from Qatar
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Spain
seen from Ukraine

seen from Netherlands

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Switzerland

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
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seen from Japan
seen from Hong Kong SAR China

seen from United States

seen from Switzerland
@eamxs
i might just start fresh since i only had 520-ish posts @.@
helloooo loves
i'm alive
update: i was eamesrp, i am now eamxs
i'm thinking of bring this account back? thanks to all of you who stuck around in spite of my absence! we'll seeee
Hot Pockets
Arthur didn’t answer right as his phone buzzed, he was in the middle of writing something out that he wanted to do more research on. So when he finally retrieved his phone while taking a sip of water, well he almost choked as for whatever reason he hadn’t actually been thinking Eames’ reply would be quite so…cheeky? Coughing to clear up his windpipe, he couldn’t help but glare at no one in particular, when had he started using Eames’ British words in his own thoughts?
{Text}
"Well one of us has to keep some semblance of a steady checkbook…and that’s certainly not your forte……They don’t pay for innuendos.
Did you need anything from the store before I get home?”
He grins, cracks the fridge open and leans over for a peek. Haven’t got enough eggs to make that, no, but maybe I could make that other dish I’ve been meaning to try.
He loses himself in his own thoughts. It takes him a couple of minutes to reply.
[txt]: Oh, Christ, it’s like you’re in my bloody head. [txt]: You frighten me. [txt]: Eggs and beer. [txt]: Also running low on garlic.
Arthur chuckled to himself as he put his files back into his briefcase carefully, absently he ran a hand through his hair before pulling on his suit jacket again and fixing his cuffs. Double checking he had left nothing behind he headed for the elevator phone in hand to reply, there was amusement in his eyes as he read over the list.
{Text}
"Are you saying I’m not in your head all of the time or that I’m not frightening, because frankly both are lies."
"Whole garlic or that shaker stuff in the spice aisle? Just a dozen eggs?"
Eames hops off the counter and starts to tidy up a bit, in case Arthur makes it home early. He texts back between sneezes. Where did all of this dust come from?
[txt]: Always frightening. Always in my head, it seems. [txt]: Whole garlic, dove, I abhor the "shaker stuff". [txt]: And, yes. That's plenty enough.
Hot Pockets
Arthur didn’t answer right as his phone buzzed, he was in the middle of writing something out that he wanted to do more research on. So when he finally retrieved his phone while taking a sip of water, well he almost choked as for whatever reason he hadn’t actually been thinking Eames’ reply would be quite so…cheeky? Coughing to clear up his windpipe, he couldn’t help but glare at no one in particular, when had he started using Eames’ British words in his own thoughts?
{Text}
"Well one of us has to keep some semblance of a steady checkbook…and that’s certainly not your forte……They don’t pay for innuendos.
Did you need anything from the store before I get home?”
He grins, cracks the fridge open and leans over for a peek. Haven't got enough eggs to make that, no, but maybe I could make that other dish I've been meaning to try.
He loses himself in his own thoughts. It takes him a couple of minutes to reply.
[txt]: Oh, Christ, it's like you're in my bloody head. [txt]: You frighten me. [txt]: Eggs and beer. [txt]: Also running low on garlic.
Hot Pockets
Arthur smirked at the reply from Eames, he rolled his eyes at the screen despite the man not being around to see the action. To be fair, Arthur didn’t know how he had known that Eames was probably attempting to get rid of his hot pockets, but he figured it was either some sort of intuition (though he wasn’t even about to start calling it that) or the amused look Eames seemed to get in his eyes whenever Arthur defended his hot pocket consumption. And the fact that Arthur had several meetings to attend to while Eames was still at home.
{Text from Arthur to Eames}
"You flatter yourself too much to think I would have cameras trained on you throughout the day, as if I had nothing else to do. Leave the hot pockets alone, Mr. Eames or else."
Eames grins at his phone and hides Arthur's box of "food" in the back of the freezer, just because he's difficult. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge before he reclaims his seat on the kitchen counter, along with his buzzing cell.
[txt]: You haven't anything else to do. You would much rather be "doing" me, duck.
{Text from Arthur to Eames} "I wasn't kidding, Eames. Don't touch my hot pockets"
[txt]: Honestly, love, do you have cameras on me?[txt]: I mean[txt]: I didn’t[txt]: I would never
This Must Be The Place || Eames
"I still can’t believe they actually make these." There’s a small grin on his face, which loses its glow quickly. "Of course."
Eames closes the distance between them and steals a quick kiss, thumb moving against the other man’s cheek. “Talk to me, darling.” And then, without moving anything but his arm, he takes the pan off the stove and places it on the adjacent counter. “Without burning the eggs.”
The kiss is chaste, simple. It still makes Harvey’s eyes flutter shut. “What’s there to talk about? The eggs will get cold and then you’ll always associate me with the world’s most horrible morning-after breakfast.”
He smiles sadly and presses his nose to Harvey's cheek. "I will never associate you with anything less than wonderful."
This Must Be The Place || Eames
"I still can’t believe they actually make these." There’s a small grin on his face, which loses its glow quickly. "Of course."
Eames closes the distance between them and steals a quick kiss, thumb moving against the other man's cheek. "Talk to me, darling." And then, without moving anything but his arm, he takes the pan off the stove and places it on the adjacent counter. "Without burning the eggs."
Little Eames things
Okay, darlings, here's the deal:
I've been away for a while, obviously, so I've sort of lost the feel for some threads -- and have misplaced others! I'd hate to lose any partners I had before (although, I wouldn't be surprised if I did), so if any of you would like to start a new thread with me, please let me know!
I miss you all dearly. I'm working on getting this account up and running again!
P.S. The only two plots I've managed to hold on to are "The Air That I Breathe" with Arthur and "This Must Be the Place" with Harvey.
If we had one going that you'd like to continue, I'm more than willing to do so!
the air that i breathe || arthur
“Thank you." He’s unable to keep the relief from his voice, but he feels so… silly… that he isn’t much fazed by it. He steps inside and takes a quick look around, at the home he’d once expected to be in pristine condition, and smiles crookedly to himself. It fades quickly, however, when he thinks that it might be his doing.
"No need, by the by, to put anything on," he mumbles, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “I’m the one who showed up unannounced. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything simply because I’m here."
Suddenly Arthur was feeling very exposed though he wasn’t sure if it was his state of dress or the untidy status of his apartment. Making his way towards his bedroom, he gripped a few stray manila folders and pieces of paper on his way in a half-ass attempt to straighten things up.
"Just…give me one minute." Arthur demanded, holding up a long, slender finger to indicate his required time. Nearly tripping over his feet on the way through the door frame. He let out a frustrated sound and closed the door behind him.
Quickly moving to his dresser, the point man yanked a pair of dark gray sweat pants from the drawer and hopped into them. He paused in front of the bedroom mirror, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair and over his scruff before deeming the act of salvaging any more of his appearance a waste of valuable Eames time. Instead, he spritzed himself in cologne and reappeared in the main room, glancing at his guest before dashing for the kitchen.
"Coffee?" he asked, pausing as he turned to the other man and shook his head, his eyebrows pulling together.
"No- tea." he said with a nod before returning to the cabinets and retrieving a kettle from the stove’s back burner.
Eames can't stop himself laughing, or--or smiling, and he hates how bloody close to hysterical it sounds. He had missed this. He had missed feeling at home with another human being. Things are awkward and certainly need a bit of mending, but it's looking more like he'll have the opportunity to start doing so... this time.
He follows Arthur to the kitchen, leans against the far wall. "Tea would be great," he says, smiling fondly at his back. "You look..." Tread lightly. "You look good."
a-forger-and-a-point-man said: hope you’re okay bb! we miss you!!
[I miss you, too!!!]
toughbutfair said: *harvey is just gonna be all ~casual~ and pounce on eames b/c eaMES BELONG TO SPECTER YES PROPERTY OF SPECTER*
*eames is gonna yelp and tip over and YES PROPERTY OF SPECTER*
I'll hopefully be back on this account soon.
Sorry for the unexpected hiatus. Been having a tough time doing much of anything lately.
I miss you all. x
This Must Be The Place || Eames
"Only for about a half hour," comes the reply as a soft exhale. Harvey’s head tilts to the side a bit before arching back, his eyes closing. “Do you like eggs?"
"Mm." He presses a kiss to his shoulder and hums quietly. “I do. Thank you." Eames pauses and lowers his voice a bit. “Are you alright?"
"Good," Harvey murmurs, eyes opening again to check on the food cooking away. The question isn’t a surprise but, it’s still one that he’s not ready to answer and doesn’t believe he ever will be ready to answer truthfully. “I’m good."
"That isn’t quite true, is it?" He places a hand on Harvey’s hip and uses it to turn him around, gently. “Darling, what happened? What’s wrong?"
He turns slowly but, willingly. His eyebrows pinch together, lips pressing into a thin line as he looks at Eames. “You’re wearing my shirt," Harvey comments quietly, hands moving to fiddle with the fabric. “You look good in solid colors."
"And you look good in paisley boxers," he mumbles, reaching up and touching the other man's cheek. "Thank you for letting me stay."
Cookies? || Open
“Darcy. What have you done?" he laughs, placing his hands on his hips. “Jesus. Might have overdone it a bit, yeah?"
She huffs and turns to glare at Eames, her own hands going to her hips to mimic his pose. “This is your fault for having such an awesome kitchen, okay? Once I start cooking or baking in here, I can’t stop. The oven is like magic."
"I’m aware," he says, smiling widely. “What are we to do with all this?"
"Eat it?" She asks him with a smile, eyes glinting like she has a secret hidden away. “I did use the frosting you like on the brownies."
"Oh." His face lights up and he drops his hands. "Oh, now, how could I resist?"