#specificite

[edeioninkina-a]

@specificite

           You’re dreaming. The thought is immediate as soon as he opens his eyes. They’re standing on a balcony overlooking a pier, and the endless ocean spreads out before them. It’s a nice view, something from the other’s subconscious if he remembers how this worked. He feels the strangeness, the sensation that something is not quite right. He’s not really sure what it is, but he’s felt it before when Alisa has entered his nightmares. Artemios doesn’t feel her at all, and is faintly relieved. No, he remembers why they are here. He remembers that he is doing this for a reason. 

                             “This is a dream, right?” Artemios asks, and his voice sounds strange to his ears. Is that what he sounded like all those years ago, or is his own mind giving an approximation--trying to fit what it vaguely recalls and what might have changed? It comes off rough, a little hoarse. “Where are we?”

[extractorextraordinaire-blog]

@specificite // continued from x

           What does that say about him? That he’s good at playing the con? Maybe he ought to be an actor. There were enough open calls and Jared probably had some contacts being in the entertainment industry and all. Dom almost laughs and feels sick. Another cigarette joins the littered mess by his feet. There’s probably a better place for them, but he doesn’t care. He fiddles with the half crumbled box in his pocket, debating.

                        “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or what. I’m good at pretending I feel alive? Sounds fucking depressing to me.” And that’s what it is, isn’t it? Dom tries not to dwell on that too much and instead watches Arthur’s first attempt at skipping. The rock sinks after one hop. “Yeah, maybe.” The answers sounds hollow to his ears. He doesn’t think leaving is going to help. He doesn’t think anything is going to help.

           There’s a metaphor somewhere about the rocks they’re skipping and his own life, but he doesn’t care enough to figure it out. Dom kicks at dirt and stones and wishes he had the energy to play the role he’s meant to. The one where he makes fun of Arthur for the pitiful skip. Too much like making fun of the girl in the hospital bed, right before the stupid “joke”.

                          “M’ gonna...sit down.” Before he threw up. He needed a drink. He needed something. He took a few steps back toward the flat boulder at the edge of tall grass. “I’m still watching you.”

[timejvmped]

“you’re the owner, then?” garcia studies arthur for a few moments. his face is set in an impassive line. he stands almost a half-foot taller than the other and crosses his arms, attempting to intimidate him “i’m looking for a redhead, goes by emma. would’ve been in here a few weeks ago.” he watches arthur, keeping his gaze on his eyes to notice any sign of deception. there were easier ways to do this, but his biggest part in the plan was distracting arthur so that the others could hunt down emma and the sleeper.

@specificite

[wantediniceland]

(( @specificite continued from here ))

“I’m a plenty good driver. I’m a careful driver, you’ll thank me when we’re not a couple of hamburger patties on the road, dang,” Hardison muttered, swatting Arthur’s hand away when it got too close in his face as he pointed where to turn. “How are you still such a butthole? I’ve grown as a person, I’ve turned into a delight. You’ve stayed exactly the same. Even the pinched expression on your face hasn’t changed.”

[kiingsmaan]

{ @specificite }

     “i can work with cool.” it could be a lot worse. cool and fucked up wasn’t exactly what he was going for, but he’d take it. and he didn’t mind the mister.      “i think people underestimate you.”

There is a hint of shyness in Eggsy’s demeanor after Arthur’s words sink in. “I’m not...I’m not sure, to be perfectly honest. I’m pretty convinced fat most times I just get lucky or somefink. Like...one big cosmic fluke.”

Looking pensive for a second, he gazed off at the wall across from him. Pretty much summed up his life...one big cosmic fluke. Snapping out of his reverie, he turned his gaze back on Arthur. “Doesn’t matter whot people fink though, ya? Just matters whot you do.”

[xaedificare]

five times kissed (for specificite tho.)

he steals the first one, a flash of skin against skin that is only justa kiss, barely giving her a chance to react before he’s pulled awaywith a pithy rejoinder, and she’s left spinning her wheels. in the roomwhere they’re setting the kick, she looks at him as he works, trying tofigure out exactly what’s going through his mind. it’s no good. he’s asopaque as a door, and ariadne turns her focus back to the job.

it’s a few months before she sees him again, turning up out of nowherein the luxembourg gardens with a job offer, entirely professional and unflappable. ariadne sort of wants to hit him, but she takes the job anyway because she wants to keep doing this even though that kiss sortof haunts her. just as he’s about to leave, asks if he could take her todinner that night, and before she can overthink it, she accepts. he kissesher cheeks, perfectly normal in france, although she’s so red after he hasleft that she just knows everyone is looking.

that night he brings up that first kiss, apologizing in an honest way thatmakes her earlier frustrations dissolve, although she does point out hecould have asked first. he agrees, and some impulse drives her to addthat he could have put a little more effort into it too. at first he seems tobe stunned into silence; maybe the dinner was just an apology, but thenhe moved his wine glass and asked to try again. when a few minutes ofthe most tender, romantic, head-spinning kiss she’d ever had passed,she had to admit that he certainly had put in the best effort possible.

one job turned into two turned into three, and they were unquestionably ateam, both in the field and otherwise. sometimes the job got messy, andthe worst resulted in arthur being beaten all to hell, and they narrowlyescaped st. petersburg with their lives. later, hidden in a safehouse asthey waited for the heat to die down, ariadne did her best to patch him up,her hands shaking with fear at how close she had just come to losing him.he took her hand in his bloodied one, squeezing gently, his eyes clear,present, reminding her that he was there, he was fine. she leaned overand pressed a kiss to his forehead, breathing in, breathing out.

it’s sort of dumb luck that the stars align the way they do sometimes. cobbis in paris with the kids visiting miles, eames miraculously has floated backto europe for awhile, and even yusuf and saito are able to make it. ariadneis pretty sure that saito is the one who arranged for the quiet ceremony insaint-chapelle after the tourists have left, and she’ll make a point to thankhim later. right then all she can focus on is the dark brown eyes, crinkled atthe edges as he smiled down at her while the priest intoned the vows, theway his hands hold hers, the way his kiss feels like a benediction. marriagewasn’t something she had ever seen as an end goal in her life, but then shehad met him. they walked out into the sunlight, husband and wife.

[dxsole]

Naptime

@teachermade

@specificite

@waywarddrifters

@manifestredemption

@snowinabottle

There’s a cough, then a snort as the elder rouses from his nap-- he hadn’t actually meant to take a nap, lack of proper sleep plus age not exactly leaving him with much pep to stay awake.

Although, he feels horribly rude to just nod off, especially when there was a new face in his office. “My apologies-- You must forgive me, I fear I’ve grown much like my forefathers before me. I can fall asleep standing up at this point.” He muses, gently rubbing at his eyes and sniffling before readjusting his glasses. “Ah, yes, good afternoon. What is it you were looking for?”

[extractorextraordinaire-blog]

@specificite cont. from a series of asks

         Maybe at one point that had been all it was. The want to corrupt this too-sheltered kid. He was a bit younger. He seemed to follow Dom’s every move like he was the coolest person. It wasn’t really all that unusual. And then somehow they had had become friends and-- someone told him once that friends don’t want to kiss friends. And they definitely don’t want to do other things.

        He brushes the thoughts away without worrying about it. There’s a slight shudder when Arthur’s hands slide up his spine. Dom trails after his lips, like nothing else is important, not even air. Once the words leave Arthur, Dom is kissing him again; slow this time. Arthur has definitely gotten better at it, but Dom thinks he might still have been kissing him even if he hadn’t. It says a lot. It says too much. Dom doesn’t dwell on it. Instead, he draws back just slightly, just enough so that when he speaks, skin still touches. 

                  “You can be greedy,” he says, words a little breathless, a little husky with heightened--lust. But it’s different, he thinks. Different than when he’s with his other ‘friends’ and the girl he likes fools around him. Because he does like her, just not as much as he likes Arthur. With her it’s fast and easy and something about it feels empty and hollow. Like he’s trying to hurt himself on jagged edges, and he supposes that’s the point with them. Dom quiets his unsettled mind with action; tongue peaking out to wet his lips, taste Arthur. The hand at Arthur’s thigh squeezes, rubs a circle with his thumb. Teasing. Seeing how far he could go before the other is wanting something a little more than just--making out.