#also its gonna be dark and dramatic and silhouettes mostly which is why the rest of pumafur's body isnt drawn

[oflgtfol]

cat violence

[zuwritesstuff]

When You Try To Write a Candlenights Oneshot but it Turns Into a Multichaptered Adventure

Tw: Minor character death, injuries, prosthetics, slight angst, implied betrayal?

A/N- Hiya! This is chapter one in a (hopefully) multichaptered series and I have a lot to say but mostly I wanna thank @anonbeadraws because their Magnulia comic, (which you can see here if the link works lmao), which inspired a real cute scene in here, thanks so much to them and to YOU for reading this, have fun ;) (and please, I don’t mean to sound Desperate but reblogs > likes) also, you can find this on ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/22352998 and find the companion piece that you should really read if you want this whole Universe to make sense ijsdkncjfjdlnd right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228207

Chapter Title: Something To Come Home To

3 months, 2 weeks and 5 days ago

“And then she said-”

“‘I like you and I love you.’” Everyone in the breakroom chimed in, including those just passing by. Magnus beamed, proud of the fact that he had told this story so many times everyone in the room knew what he was gonna say. He was currently recounting the story of his wife’s confession of love and was draped over a chair dramatically, swooning. 

“Isn’t it romantic?” He said, grinning upside down at Merle and Taako. Taako scoffed and went back to drinking his coffee, rolling his eyes. Merle threw his hands up, shaking his head.

“I’m aromantic, leave me out of that.” 

“And I’m not, but you’re such a sap, it almost disgusts me.” Taako said, patting Magnus’s shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t be mean. Emotions are good, and being a sap is a good look on you, Maggie.” Carey Torres said, next to Magnus. Killian Alvarez and Noelle Nelson were also sitting at the table sharing a look.

“Is it?” Noelle said, stifling a laugh with her prosthetic arm, red and cyberpunk-esque. “Cause it kinda looks like he’s gonna explode.” Magnus sat back up, shaking his head as the blood that rushed into his head flowed back down. They all chuckled, and Killian, feet up on the table, (despite Merle’s protests), looked over at Carey.

“Being a sap is good, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah. Being emotionally forward is...good…” Carey said, blushing and looking away. Killian did the same, and everyone else at the table mentally groaned. The tension between them was, frankly, killing everyone who witnessed it. The two, plus Noelle, were a lean, mean, terrifying machine, and had been together for so long everyone who met them were, frankly, surprised that they weren’t a couple.

Killian took her feet off the table, leaned forward and said, “Well, uh, if that’s the case-” But whatever Killian was gonna say was drowned out by the loudspeaker above them.

“Dr. Highchurch and Agent Burnsides, to Wing F, ASAP. Repeat, Dr. Highchurch and Agent Burnsides to Wing F, ASAP.” Merle and Magnus looked at each other with concern. Wing F was the hospital wing, where Merle worked on their team’s, (Merle, Magnus and Taako’s), off days. 

“Mag, uh, not trying to worry you, but didn’t….didn’t Julia and Steph go on a mission today?” Carey asked gently. Magnus’s eyes went wide. He pushed his chair away and rushed out, with Merle close behind. 

                                                      ~

                      3 years, 3 months, 1 week and 6 days ago

Magnus took a deep breath and stepped in. Director Austen had just called him into her office. He had just finished his formal training with the Bureau of Benevolence and was waiting to be assigned a mentor, like most of the rest of his class. He had spent the last week fooling around with a few of his classmates, like Taako and Lup Enno, a pair of twins that were trouble personified, or Barry Bluejeans, a soft-spoken nerd who was supposed to be a scientist but ended up becoming a full agent. 

“You will train with Agent Waxman, here.” An older man stood next to Director Austen, looking down imposingly. He was built sturdily, even at his age, with a crooked nose and rough and calloused hands, with a small goatee and scar next to his right eye. Magnus stuck out a hand towards him, looking Waxman straight in the eyes.

“Magnus Burnsides, pleased to meet you.” Agent Waxman chuckled, shaking Magnus’s hand firmly.

“Call me Stephen, alright? Lucretia is one for formalities, for sure.”

“Her name is Lucretia?” Magnus whispered, horrified but amused.

“Thank you very much, Agent Waxman. That’ll be all.” Lucretia said, a ghost of a smile on her face. 

Magnus and Stephen walked out of Lucretia’s office chatting idly. Magnus learned Stephen had worked at the B.O.B for a very long time- almost 25 years, which is very long for a job that gets people killed almost regularly. He had a daughter, who had also had recently joined B.O.B, and just gotten her mentor; she was actually in Magnus’s class, but alas, apparently they had never interacted. Stephen was also nearing retirement- Magnus was the last recruit he was taking on, he told Lucretia, then a few more years and he was out. 

“Man, I never thought that far. Getting out? Nah, I’ll die before that, I think.” Magnus said casually. “I’m more of action first, get hurt, think after that kind of guy. Or don’t think at all, that works too.” He added, shrugging.

Stephen laughed and shook his head. “You know, I was wondering why Lucretia assigned me to you and now I know why. I used to be just like you, hot head and ready to give my life before anything ever happened.”

“Used to?”

“I found something worth coming home to, kiddo, but I suggest finding one soon cause the missions I go on? You’re gonna need it.”

“Alright, old man, whatever you say.”

“Ya know, you say that like its an insult. If I wasn’t old I wouldn’t have lived- trust me kiddo, living comes after everything you thought was worth doing. Then you’re cruising and focusing on the little things, all the good things.” Stephen said lightly, not looking at Magnus. He scanned the base, looking around as Magnus considered this. He had always been, not to be cliche, known to rush in. Protect, don’t think, get the mission done. If he got through it, great, if he didn’t, whatever, but if his friends got hurt, or didn’t complete what was needed? Failed. Living after the mission wasn’t all that high in his priorities, but the Director saw potential in him- she had to since he passed and she gave him a mentor, he reasoned. 

“Ah, there she is.” Stephen said, waving over two silhouettes in the distance. As they approached, Magnus’s jaw dropped as he saw the prettiest woman he had ever seen in his life, and one of the hairiest men he had seen, though he wasn’t paying much attention to him. The woman was tall, pretty much rivaling his own height, with long, curly hair wrapped into a braid behind her. Her skin was dark and glowing, with soft brown eyes that made you feel like you were wrapped up in the comfiest blanket under a beautiful night sky. She was, to be crude, buff as hell, with broad shoulders and a broader smile, Magnus noticed as she smiled at him, sticking her hand out.

“Julia Waxman. I see you’ve met my dad.” Magnus said nothing, just managing to close his mouth and shake her hand. He stared as Stephen laughed at him, patting his back.

“Julia, love, this is my apprentice, Magnus, and this is the first time he’s been quiet since I met him. What’s up, Errol?”

One of the hairiest men Magnus had seen smiled at Stephen, with a thick scruff and a long ponytail, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Not much, Steph, knew I had to come to find you once I got little Jules here as my apprentice.” Julia scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Errol, you’re like five years older than me, at most, shut your damn mouth.”

“Yeah, you’re a baby, that's what I said.”

“Fuck off.”

“Language.” Stephen said, almost instinctively. 

“Magnus!” Magnus suddenly announced, eyes lighting up and grinning at them all. “My name is Magnus. Burnsides. I’m a new recruit, but I’m made of legend material, that’s for sure.” He said, rambling. “I’m, uh, Hamilton-esque, not throwing away my shot but actually, fuck Hamilton, cheating on his wife I trusted him, I thought he drunk respect women juice when actually-”

Errol burst out in laughter out of nowhere, holding his sides. “Oh Lord- I’m sorry Magnus but that is the funniest shit- man, why’d you have to get the funny recruit, Steph-”

“Hey what the-”

“Julia Bernadette Waxman when I say watch your language I mean it, thank you.”

“Oh god Dad, why’d you have to expose me like that,” Julia said, burying her face in her hands. Errol, laughing even harder, clutched at his sides. “There was absolutely no reason to do that, why?”

“Bernadette, oh lordy lord, I can’t-” he said, wheezing, using Stephen as support. Julia rolled her eyes and looked at Magnus.

“I’m sorry about those two, they’re kindred spirits, Errol had my dad as his mentor, and both of them are idiots.” She said, directing the last part towards the two laughing men.

“I'm...Magnus.” Magnus said, looking right into Julia’s eyes and short-circuiting again. Julia gave him a slow, confused smile and laughed a little.

“Yeeah, yeah alright, Magnus. I’ll see you around, alright?” She looked at her dad and said, “I’m going to meet some friends; you two do whatever. Bye, Maggie.” She waved and walked away, leaving Magnus staring at the spot she was at.

“Julia…” he whispered to himself, a blush and grin growing wider and wider, shaking the hand that shook Julia’s as if to regain feeling back into his lovestruck self.

                                                      ~

                            3 months, 2 weeks and 5 days ago

Magnus ran like his life depended on it, almost shoving other agents out of the way as he ran, only thinking of Julia and Stephen. He skidded to a halt at the start of the wing; Merle crashed into him as he abruptly stopped, but he didn’t care. He stepped forward into the wing, but Merle’s hand stopped him.

“Give me a minute, kiddo. Let me see what happened, you don’t- we need to know first.”

“No, Merle. I can’t. No.” Magnus kept walking, but Merle stood in front of him, stopping him.

“Hey, hey, hey- this is my job, let me do it.” Merle said, looking up at Magnus. “Let me see what happened, and then I’ll come to get you, you don’t know what happened yet.” Magnus looked down at Merle and saw the sincerity in his eyes. He nodded and collapsed into a nearby chair, head in his hands, as Merle rushed off, talking to another doctor as they sped towards wherever they were. He, for once, sat quietly. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do. Stephen’s words from so long ago echoed in his mind. The something to come home to had turned into him, and Julia, and the rest of his team, and if something bad happened then-no. Nothing bad happened, Magnus reasoned. It couldn’t have, but there was no way. It was Stephen, for god's sake. There was no way.

After what seemed like an eternity, Merle came back, looking grim. Magnus stood up, searching for any sign of good news in his face. 

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat it, it’s bad.” Merle said, gesturing forward. “We don’t...well we don’t know for sure how it’s gonna turn out, Magnus. I-I’ll do everything I can, but you need to know, we don’t know yet.” He took a deep breath and opened the door, leading Magnus in. 

Julia and Stephen lay on two hospital beds. Errol, more shaven and well kept than he was two years ago, sitting by Julia’s side, looked up at them both. Magnus immediately rushed to Julia’s side, hovering over her, not sure where to start. Her face was cut up and blooded, only emphasized by her ragged breathing. The blanket that Wing F gave covered her up, but not enough to obscure her newly amputated right arm and leg, from the elbow and knee down. Magnus looked at Merle, silently, for any kind of explanation.

“There was an explosion, the whole building came down, and the way Julia was caught...she was probably right next to the blast, and the rubble...she's lucky to be alive Mag.” he said, looking down at her sadly. “She's on heavy anesthesia right now, they had to do a field amputation just to get her out; she was just….crushed, and there was just no time. It's looking like she’s gonna have some hearing issues on her right side as well, and there weren’t any issues of much heavy brain trauma, but we have to wait for her to wake up. And, well, Stephen…” he trailed off, looking at the man lying next to her. He was hooked up to an oxygen machine, it breathing for him. “Comatose. We don’t...god, Magnus, we don’t-” 

“He’s gonna wake up, Merle.”

“Kiddo-”

“Damn it, Merle, he’s gonna wake up! He has to- he c-” Magnus’s voice broke, and he angrily wiped tears from his face. “He’s got things worth living for and he’s gonna wake up, alright?”

“Alright, alright.” Merle said gently, touching Magnus’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go talk to whoever was on duty when they were found, you’re gonna stay here?” Magnus nodded, sitting heavily down next to Errol. Merle walked out, and the two men were silent for a moment, only listening to the beeping of the heart monitors and breathing, both artificial and otherwise.

“Man, I was just near here, Wing E, visiting a friend and I saw them wheel them in.” Errol said, breaking the silence. Magnus said nothing, not even acknowledging his presence. He just stared out to Julia, barely even breathing. Errol sighed and asked, “You know what she’d say about this?” Magnus didn’t respond, so he continued. “She’s left-handed.” Errol looked at Magnus seriously. “And she wouldn’t want you to act like this is the absolute end of the world.”

“You heard Merle,” Magnus said softly. “Julia...and Stephen is...he’s…”

“Not gonna give up without a fight. And if he goes, then, well…” Errol looked up at the ceiling, stretching out, settling in, clearly preparing for a long wait. “I’m gonna find the bastard that did this and make him suffer.”

                                                      ~

                           2 years, 7 months and 3 days ago

“Alright buddy, now’s the time.” Aubrey Little said, slapping Magnus on the back. “You’re gonna ask that girl out, and she’s gonna say yes, and if she doesn’t, you’re gonna respect her boundaries.”

“Hell yeah, I am.” Magnus said, standing in front of his mirror, making one last check to his appearance. Littered around the apprentice boy’s dorm was Taako, Barry, Aubrey, and Jake Coolice, all there to hype up Magnus. He, (and Julia), had been pining for a hot minute- everyone in their “class” was very ready for all of them to get together, so the 5 of them had gotten together to keep Magnus from chickening out, (he loved the friendship that had grown between him and Julia, and didn’t want to mess it up for the world), and to give themselves peace of mind. The rest of their class did their own thing, usually, but rest assured, everyone knew the dance Julia and Magnus kept around each other. 

“Alright, let’s get this thing going.” Taako said, standing and clapping his hands together. “My mentor wants to meet up and spar a little, and I can’t wait to beat his ass.”

“That’s mean, T,” Aubrey said, scrunching her face up, looking at him through the mirror. “Duck’s a nice dude.”

“One, he will not tell me his real name, does anyone even know it?” he asked nobody in particular, “two, he can’t lie for shit, so when he tried to fake compliment my sparring skills, it just, just didn’t work.” He shook his head, sighing. “He has so much to learn.” 

“My mentor is a doctor, technically an agent but he works mostly as a doctor; he’s super interesting.” Barry chimed in. “A little weird, kinda hippie-ish, but cool.”

“Nerd.”

“Thanks, Takoda.”

“Barold, don’t start with me, I will fuck you up, I know you have a crush on my sister, I can and will use this to my advantage. And, also,” he turned to face Barry, “You’re bi, and we’re twins, why not me? I’m clearly the superior twin.”

“Huh, I wonder why…” Barry said sarcastically, blushing at Taako’s accusation. “And I don’t have a crush on your sister, I’m dating your sister.” He mumbled.

“Excuse me, you’re fucking WHAT?”

“Hey, bi twins!” Aubrey said, going over and high-fiving Barry as Taako threw his hands up, super done.

“I think we’re losing focus here, guys. Also, bi-pan solidarity.” Jake said, finger gunning at Aubrey. She gasped excitedly and then shook herself, turning back to Magnus.

“Right, yes, Magnus, come on, you’re meeting Julia at the coffee shop and asking her out, let’s go!” Aubrey said, spinning on her heels, pointing and walking to the door. Magnus scratched the back of his neck, walking slowly and then stopping. 

“Uh, guys, maybe this is-”

“Alright, enough of this- Magnus, you’re gonna ask Julia out cause you are so, so head over heels for her. Isn’t that true?” Taako said, clapping Magnus’s shoulders and looking into his eyes.

“I mean…”

“Magnus, yes or no?”

“Its, uh, complicated-”

“Magnus, bud, answer the question.” Barry said, looking at him sympathetically.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m super gone for her. I like her so, so much, I just wanna hold her all the time and be with her ‘cause I just, she’s so nice and funny, so fucking funny and beautiful, so so beautiful, inside and out, and she’s got such a good heart and all that but I don’t want to ruin our friendship because it’s super amazing and she’s super amazing and-”

“Magnus?” A voice said from the doorway, soft and quiet. There stood Julia, slack-jawed, looking around like she was trying to grab words from the still air around them, but she found none. Aubrey stood to the side, looking back and forth between the two of them. 

“Lets, uh, go guys. Somewhere…” She said, slipping out of the door, turning around and giving Magnus a thumbs up as she did. Taako patted Magnus’s shoulder reassuringly and walked out with Barry, who waved at Julia but didn’t get one back, and Jake, who threw up a peace sign at Magnus, trying to reassure him as well. 

Magnus, face burning, looked to his shoes and said, “Hey, Julia…”

“Did you mean it?”

“W-what?”

“Did you mean what you said?” Julia asked, walking close to Magnus, looking him right in the face. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t say it, ‘cause I heard you, but did you mean it?”

Magnus looked at her, locking eyes with her, and took a deep breath. “With all my heart.”

Julia bit her lip, looking away as a slow smile spreading on her face. She covered her mouth, looked back at Magnus as she put her hands on her hips, looking a bit contemplative before saying, “Can, uh, can I kiss you?”

“Uh,” Magnus laughed a little nervously, stepping towards her shyly, “that would be nice, yeah.” Julia grinned and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him. Magnus wrapped his hands around Julia’s waist, lifting her up and kissing back with a fierceness that kind of surprised him. They swayed for a bit, staying together for as long as their lungs could let them, and upon hearing the wolf whistles from their friends outside, they broke apart, giggling at each other. Magnus put Julia down gently, stepping a little away, still shy, blushing even harder. Julia chuckled a little, stepping close enough to put her right hand on Magnus’s cheek.

“You are, no doubt, adorable.”

“Oh?” He asked, snaking an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Do tell…”

“Maybe after you’ve taken me on our coffee date? You gotta explain how you got from ‘I’m Magnus’ to this.”

“Is this..is this not good?” Magnus asked worriedly, biting his lip, standing up straighter as if to put a little distance between them.

“No, no, this is good- hey, Magnus?” Julia said, looking in his eyes, putting her other hand on his cheek and stepping closer. “This is so, so good.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good...I just don’t wanna mess this up, you know?”

“You won’t- you’ve already got me, hook line and sinker.”

Magnus smiled, kissing her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and then her lips, softly, before backing up and holding out a hand for her to hold. “Coffee date, then.” Julia smiled and took his hand, squeezing it tight before leading him outside. 

                                                        ~

                                    2 months and 2 days ago

Julia gripped the parallel bars, sweating, walking clumsily. Merle stood next to her, ready to help when needed, and Magnus stood at the end, offering encouragement.

“Come on, you’re so close, you got this love.” He said as Julia approached the end. She gritted her teeth and shook her head, trembling with effort, slowing. “No, no come on baby,” Magnus stepped closer but Merle held a hand out, signaling for him to wait.

“She can do this, hold on lovebird.”

“I-I can’t, Merle,” Julia said, looking down at her right arm, fitted with a temporary prosthetic. “It’s not strong enough.” She had decided to train one limb at a time, leg first, so her right leg was was fitted with a black, wired, titanium leg, hollowed out to look like geometric art, snaking up Julia’s right thigh, printed to match the size and shape of her other leg. She looked up at Magnus, clearly using all her strength to hold herself up.

“Merle, come on man, let me-”

“No, Magnus, hold on.” 

Merle walked right up to Julia, looking up at her, seeing her welled up eyes, her still slightly scarred face, straining with effort, he pulled down his right sleeve, exposing his prosthetic. It was made to look like it was carved out of wood, with smooth, ringed patterns flowing down his arm. He held it up for her to see and then pointed at her with it.

“You’re right. It isn’t strong enough, but you are. You can do this. This,” he pointed to his own prosthetic, and then hers, “is a part of your body now, use it to your advantage. You are strong enough, Julia; you need to trust yourself- now come on.” He stepped away, waiting for her to follow. She looked to the sky, blinking away tears, and leaned forward, shifting the weight onto her prosthetic leg, stepping forward. She shook, almost falling, but managed to get to the end. Magnus walked forward quickly, and this time, Merle didn’t stop him. Julia collapsed into his arms, and he held her upright, stroking her hair.

“You did it, see? Was that so hard?” Julia laughed a little, wrapped her arms around his waist, and buried her face into his neck, nodding. Magnus chuckled a little, kissing her hair. “It’ll get easier. And hey, now you know exactly what you need to beat in terms of prosthetic coolness.” Magnus looked over to Merle, grinning a little. Merle rolled his eyes and smiled, shaking his head.

“I think we’re done for today. When are you gonna send for a permanent arm, Jules?” She pulled away from Magnus a little, still using for him for support and shrugged. Merle sighed and stroked his beard. “It’d be better to get it sooner, rather than later if we’re being honest. You need to get used to them both. And, seeing as you’ve got almost no wait time here, as opposed to a regular hospital, it could be really quick.”

“I know, I know, but…” Julia closed her eyes and shook her head. “I just...I need time, I just need some time.” She looked back up at Magnus, and then away, who realized she wasn’t just talking about recovering physically- she was talking about Stephen, who didn’t make it. They realized he just wasn’t going to wake up, that the machine was just keeping his heart pumping for him, and pulled the plug. During his funeral, about the entire B.O.B. came, and just about all the seasoned agents, including Merle, talked about him. They laughed, they cried, and Julia, who sat in a wheelchair for the funeral, not having recovered physically or mentally enough to start her prosthetics, didn’t speak the entire week. 

Merle, having just connected the dots, sighed. He walked to Julia, put a hand on her shoulder, and said, “I miss him too kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“1 pm sharp.”

“Yeah. And, Magnus.” Merle said, turning to him, “I think we’ve got a mission coming up, I talked to Cretia, she said shes found something we gotta look at.”

“When? I gotta…” Magnus looked at Julia, who rolled her eyes at him. 

“I don’t need protecting, Magnus.”

“No, I know that, but, uh,” 

“Alright, Merle, could I talk to my husband for a second?” Julia said, starring daggers at Magnus who, actually, felt good about it. If Julia could get mad at him, she was...making progress. Not just sad, but mad, he reasoned, is progress. Merle took the hint and skedaddled out of there, and Julia just sighed. 

“Magnus, hon, I am so, so grateful for you, you know that, right?”

“Mhm, I am aware.”

“I just...I’m gonna be okay if you go out and do your job, you know? It’s just for a little, and I’ll probably stay in and chill, maybe call some people over to visit.”

“Yeah, but,” he grimaced a little and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, I just wanna make sure you’re okay, you know?”

“Magnus…” She said softly, shaking her head. “There are more than enough people making sure I’m okay right now- I just want you to be you, please? Don’t treat me different because,” She looked down at her leg, sighing, “because of this. I want the Magnus that thinks going to the store is a grand adventure, not the one that treats me like a fragile thing. I’m not fragile, and I don’t need...you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I get it.” He said, nodding. “I just gotta be there for you, but I can do that while...being me, but I gotta say, this is hard, you know? I know its infinitely harder for you, just, watching you try to walk, I just feel like I should be there more. I just need to do more.”

“Magnus.” She put her hand on his cheek, her left hand, her gold wedding band glinting in the light, and he nuzzled into it, sighing and closing his eyes. “You staying by my side? That’s all I need. Something to come home to.” He opened his eyes, searching her eyes for the recognition that was there, she knew she was channeling her dad, and she smiled sadly. Magnus leaned down slightly and kissed her, softly and sweetly. Julia stood on her tiptoes, instinctively, barely aware that her prosthetic was as well, to meet Magnus’s lips. He pulled back and nodded.

“Then that’s what I’ll do, love. I’m gonna stay right here, with you.” He grabbed her hand on his face and kissed it, and then grabbed her right hand, putting his arm on her waist to keep supporting her, and kissed her prosthetic as well. She sighed with happiness and kissed his forehead. 

“Come on, let’s go home…” She said as Magnus helped her walk to the wheelchair she used for long distances, for now. Magnus helped her wheel out of the room, chatting idly as a shadowy figure nearby looked on. 

                                                   ~

                                                Today

 Julia walked, slightly unsteadily, to the door. She cracked it open, and then smiling wide, opened it fully, revealing one slightly timid Angus McDonald.

“Hello, ma’am! It’s nice to see you up and about!”

“Aw, thanks, Angus- it’s nice to be up and about, but you know you can call me Julia, yeah?”

“Yes, I know ma’am.” Angus grinned up at her as she laughed, shaking her head.

“Well, come on in, kiddo.” She said, gesturing for him to come in with her right arm, specifically, which looked like her leg- black titanium, geometrically arranged but, the fingers and wrist were jointed, allowing free movement. Angus was, understandably, amazed; they talked about the specific mechanics of it as Angus walked inside, (the doctors and scientists of the Bureau of Benevolence had been working on neurally controlled prosthetics that worked the same way actual limbs did- nerves sending messages to muscles to contract and move, but instead of going to the muscles, it travels down wires to wherever it should have gone if the limb was still there. This lets the user control their new arm as if it was still flesh, and the Bureau scientists were looking for someone to test it on when the accident happened), sitting at a dining table, directed by Julia, as Magnus came out of the kitchen, holding a platter of grilled cheese sandwiches in one hand and a pitcher of lemonade in another. 

Angus looked surprised as Magnus put these down on the table and went back to the kitchen. “Did...were you expecting someone?”

“Oh hon, there’s either always someone at the house or someone to give food to,” Julia said as Magnus put plates and glasses down, kissing Julia’s hair as he passed by.  “we kinda just make food to prepare for both now.” 

“Mmm, nothing to do with the fact that you said, and I quote, ‘I want nothing but a shitload of grilled cheese and lemonade for lunch’ huh?” Magnus asked, chuckling as Julia gasped and pushed him playfully.

“Magnus, there’s a child!”

“To be fair to Magnus, ma’am, I am 15, and I train with Taako too, he has more of a sailor’s mouth than Mr. Keene and he was an actual sailor.”

“I’ll talk to him about that…” Julia muttered, grabbing a sandwich, scowling.

“Wait, why do you call Argo ‘Mr.Keene’ but me Magnus?”

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with Mr.Keene, and I have spent a lot of time with you.”

Julia chuckled at her husband’s offended expression, sipped her lemonade and smiled at Angus, who smiled back, though his grin faded into a more serious expression in a moment. He seemed to be considering something for a few moments, before looking up at Magnus grimly.

“Sir, do you remember what we talked about the other day- at Taako’s apartment?” He, of course, was referring to last weeks incident- essentially, Kravtiz Ajal, Taako’s boyfriend, had gotten stabbed based off of some bad information, and had barely gotten out with his life, but Angus had suggested the traitor might have come from closer to home since this was the second time in months that a worker of the B.O.B. had gotten hurt, or killed, based off of some bad information. Magnus nodded, grimacing down at his plate. Julia put a hand on his shoulder and turned to Angus, confused.

“What’s happened, Angus?”

“Well, after Kravtiz got hurt, I got to thinking- this isn’t the first bad incident that the Bureau has had, clearly, but it was the second time in a few months that someone had gotten severely hurt off of bad information, is that correct?”

Julia sighed, nodding. “The tip we got was on the inside, it seemed solid, but…” She trailed off and now Magnus took her hand, squeezing it slightly.

“I know you must have heard this a lot, ma-” Angus sighed, looking up at her. “Julia. But I am very, very sorry for your loss. And I’d like to help you get to the bottom of this.” Julia looked up curiously at him. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that these incidents happened so close to each other. Someone has an agenda- I don’t know what, but something is going on.”

“Well, what do you think, Ango?” Magnus asked, sitting back. “I’m sure you’ve got some ideas.”

“I do…” Angus said, looking directly at Julia. “I think its time we questioned your partner, Kalen.”

                                                To Be Continued

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[lindyhunt]

Is Our Obsession With Nostalgic Fashion Trends a Coping Mechanism?

I grew up watching Three’s Company and cultivating the conviction that being a grown-up meant living with a couple of good-looking roommates somewhere near a beach and getting embroiled in misunderstandings involving double entendres and a swinging kitchen door. But mostly it meant that I would grow up to wear the hell out of ’70s-style midi-length skirts like Suzanne Somers’s Chrissy Snow. If Chrissy was my style hero, it wasn’t for the tight tops or bouncing flaxen ponytails. (Lord knows, blond and busty I am not.) But those swingy, waist-whittling A-line silhouettes, in shades of rust and sand and saddle brown, ideally partnered with espadrilles or stacked-heel boots, embroidered themselves in my imagination as the ultimate costume of young adulthood.

In fact, it occurs to me now that I’ve spent most of my life wanting to dress like (be?) a character in a ’70s sitcom. The Mary Tyler Moore Show’s Mary Richards instilled in me the fantasy that all that stood between me and competent, independent, self-possessed womanhood was a pair of dramatically-high-waisted wide-legged trousers. (I’m particularly weak to their summer sister, wide-legged button-front sailor pants. I’m sorry to add that I now claim more pairs of sailor pants than Captain High Liner, but it appears that I’m still waiting for the “competent” part to kick in. The possession of high-waisted trousers, it turns out, does not result in sexy self-possession.)

I now claim more pairs of sailor pants than Captain High Liner, but it appears that I’m still waiting for the “competent” part to kick in. The possession of high-waisted trousers, it turns out, does not result in sexy self-possession.

For all of this longing for a bygone time and its superior outfits, I can also blame my mother. She is French and therefore unusually brilliant at longing. For her, nostalgia, along with its passel of écharpe-wearing, Gitanes-puffing rela­tives—ennui, melancholy, malaise—is a cultural sport. (It’s also, come to think of it, the only sport at which I excel.)

But whatever the reason for this sartorial pining—maybe it’s because images of these outfits are so well parcelled with my childhood or because they dressed characters at the start of their new careers and lives—these clothes seem to me to be the wardrobe of beret-tossing hope and freedom. If I’m still weak in the face of a D-ring belt and a calf-grazing hemline, it’s because these clothes, to me, evoke a fantasy of fresh adulthood: the sitcom version—one not yet buttoned to commitments and uncreased by disillusionment.

Chloé Spring 2018. Photography via Imaxtree.

I am hardly alone in my love affair with ’70s fashion. French fashion house Chloé has long escorted us back to a silk-jersey-swathed golden age; its newly minted creative director, Natacha Ramsay-Levi, has cited ’70s stars Anjelica Huston, Isabelle Huppert and Sissy Spacek as style heroes. (Suzanne Somers was not on the list. I know—a stunning oversight.) Meanwhile, indie cult brands like New York’s Apiece Apart can’t keep their pintucked overalls and wide-legged cropped Merida pants in Chrissy-friendly shades of camel in stock. And ’70s-style denim—a buckle-belted midi-skirt from London-based designer Rejina Pyo, a wide-legged contrast-stitched cropped jumpsuit from Ulla Johnson and an A-line cotton-chambray shirtdress from Gabriela Hearst—brought a certain come-and-knock-on-my-door vibe into the current era.

All of this might explain why, when I was about 23, I bought an A-line dark denim midi-skirt—a Chrissy Snow classic as far as I was concerned—and proceeded to spend the better part of my 20s wearing it. If a decade can be defined by a piece of clothing, this skirt was the uniform of my 20s. Here’s how we met: I was in New York for a weekend, visiting a friend, when I popped into Agnès B.—a move that felt, at the time, like sashaying into Céline—and fell in destabilizing love. I still remember the skirt’s price tag ($145 U.S.) because I spent the rest of the weekend ration­alizing why it was entirely worth this (then-reckless-and-financially-ruinous) sum. I was just about to start my first real job (as a junior editor at a magazine), and the skirt—simple but with just enough working-girl pluck—would be my armour for my professional debut. I bought it.

I quit that job a few years later, but I remained deeply committed to the skirt. Then, sometime after I turned 30—I don’t know when or how—I lost it. I moved so many times from apartment to apartment (none of them near a beach, by the way), I don’t know what became of it. Sort of like a college boyfriend, it was so central in my life for so many years until one day it wasn’t. Although it disappeared over 10 years ago now, I find myself wondering about it, longing for it, sometimes even popping into Agnès B. thinking it will be there. (It never is.)

I have the wide-legged trousers but not the newsroom and I’m-gonna-make-it-after-all life to wear them in.

I have now worked as a freelance writer for 15 years and never quite became the careerist I thought I’d grow up to be. (I have the wide-legged trousers but not the newsroom and I’m-gonna-make-it-after-all life to wear them in.) I now spend more time in playgrounds and in pyjamas than I do, say, trading witticisms and tossing berets on my way up the professional ladder. I’m all for the present…I know you can’t live in the past, fair enough, but you can try.

In Paul Simon’s ’70s “Slip Slidin’ Away,” he sings that “a bad day’s when I lie in bed / and think of things that might have been.” On a recent bad day, as I online-shopped for the person I might have been, I came across the dreamiest dress version of that long-lost skirt, courtesy of Los Angeles-based brand Co, which is helmed by married couple Stephanie Danan and Justin Kern. It was divine in dark-rinse Japanese denim and accoutred with patch pockets and a full A-line midi-skirt.

“The ’70s is a place of nostalgia for me, too—it’s the time I remember my mother at her most glamorous,” Danan, who is from Montreal, tells me. “My mom was a designer in the ’70s and ’80s. She sold her line at Holt Renfrew and had a shop-in-shop at Ogilvy, and every Saturday I would follow her around for hours on end from vintage store to vintage store on St-Denis Street. And so began my own relationship with nostalgia and looking at clothes from a more historical perspective.” Danan and Kern founded the brand in 2011 after years of working in the film industry. Their signature silhouettes are hot sellers on Net-a-Porter and Goop, and they count Gwyneth Paltrow, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Jessica Seinfeld as fans.

When I meet Danan and Kern at their office in downtown L.A., I confess my ’70s sitcom habit and my current infatuation with that denim dress. “We tend to reference the ’40s more in our clothes,” Kern offers summarily. “That dress definitely has a ’40s vibe, but you can also imagine it with a pair of ’70s boots,” adds Danan. I prefer to imagine myself in it. In it, I’ll be young, at the start of something new and exciting, and I’ll be the person I might have been. It will take me back to a time when I only looked ahead. Danan kindly suggests that I try it on.

In it, I’ll be young, at the start of something new and exciting, and I’ll be the person I might have been. It will take me back to a time when I only looked ahead.

But the dress looked so much better on me in my head. Maybe because what I want is not the skirt or the dress but the time of life it belonged to. It turns out you can’t find the past—not even at full price on Net-a-Porter.

Photography via Imaxtree

Photography via Imaxtree

Photography via Imaxtree

Photography via Imaxtree

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1970s Fashion on the Spring 2018 Runways

Ulla Johnson

2/4

1970s Fashion on the Spring 2018 Runways

Carolina Herrera

3/4

1970s Fashion on the Spring 2018 Runways

Rejina Pyo

4/4

1970s Fashion on the Spring 2018 Runways

Gabriela Hearst