#i think i finally found a Good Shade Of Grey for her jacket!

[peevishpants]

yan combat practice

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Desperate Measures 1

Warnings: nonconsent and rape (miniseries); stalking, fear, intimidation.

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: At first, you think it’s a joke when you get the strange messages, but when they don’t stop, you realise too late how real it all is.

Note: This was going to be a one shot but it kept going and going and going, so it’s gonna be split in 2.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Have a piece of American dream Open up, and swallow, on your knees And say Thank you I'd like some desperate measures, please

💌

The first picture was sent on Monday. You remembered it clearly unlike most Monday mornings. It was the same boring ritual; a coffee that had long turned cold, a pen that wouldn’t write, and a computer that ran as if on dial-up. 

The only bright side was that your small desk was near a window and you could look out onto the city streets, though they were hardly less miserable than your own existence. You were so high up the people were merely moving specks. You often found yourself distracted by the crowded traffic below.

You were drawn from such a distant reverie by the buzz of your phone. You kept it face down by your monitor. Despite the temptation, you limited yourself to succumbing only once an hour. You sat back and your chair creaked as it tilted beneath you. You checked the time in the corner of your screen and reached for your cell, the rubber case scuffed and scratched at the edges.

Notifications for the same emails that sat open in front of you and a few personal ones in the next bubble. Another for the game you played on the subway or when you were overly listless, several updates for your hoarded apps, and a single text. 

There was no number attached to the message, only the foreboding thick font that read ‘unknown number’. You chewed on your thumb as you leaned forward on your elbow and swiped your screen up and punched in your password. The screen flashed and you hit the last notification. No words, just a file. You hit download.

You blinked as it ate your data and the image of your apartment door appeared. You glanced around and laughed to yourself. You shook your head and keyed in your response; ‘very funny, Eva.’ You hit send and set your phone back down. 

Your old friend liked her jokes and you hadn’t missed her little ploy the last time she showed up at your place angry over her latest fling. You had thought she was getting a picture of the stain on the hallway carpet that looked suspiciously like blood… or feces… or a mixture of the two.

You went back to your work and switched the document you’d been picking at for most of the morning. Your job was as entertaining as watching paint dry then peel from age. When you applied for an editing position, you’d expected thrillers and melodramas. Instead, you got dry textbooks and educational guides.

You yawned and pushed through to your scheduled break. You dumped your cold coffee and headed down to the café to grab another. The coffee they kept in the office was cheap and bland. You ate your salad in the lunchroom as you watched the clock tick away. You checked your phone. No reply to that unusual text. Eva must’ve chickened out.

You scoffed and switched chats to send her usual number an ‘lol’. You tucked your phone in your pocket and punched back in before you headed back to your desk. A couple more hours and you’d be home to stew in the early week daze.

The last half of the day went quicker and your subway ride was uneventful; well, for New York. You walked home from your stop and pulled out your phone as you climbed the stairs. You slowed down and moved your feet blindly. You’d finally gotten an answer. ‘Eva?’

You opened the chat again and hit the image. It filled the screen and you squinted as you came to a stop. The stain wasn’t there. Your landlord had finally relented and had the entire hallway torn up and replaced with an even duller shade of grey. The picture had been taken since then; within the last month. The last time you’d seen Eva, you’d gone to hers.

Your chest clenched and you gulped. You hit the little icon in the corner of the conversation and hit ‘block’. You continued to your floor and neared your door. You looked down the hallway and back to your door. You tried the handle. Locked. You took a breath.

It could still be a joke. The stoner next door, Perry, had your number from when you agreed to feed his cat that one time. Maybe he was high or just trying to be funny. Still, it hadn’t come up under his name. Well, he might have changed his number since then.

You unlocked your door and scurried inside. You made sure to turn the latch and slide the chain into place. You tossed your bag beside the mat of shoes and added your flats to the pile. You dropped your phone on the coffee table and untucked your work shirt as you walked around the small living room. 

Nothing was out of place, not that you truly believed whoever it was had gotten past your door. You rubbed your forehead and went to the small kitchen that looked out into the living room. You grabbed a can of sparkling lime whatever and plopped it next to your phone.

You went to your bedroom and stripped yourself of your stiff work clothes and pulled on the night shirt crumpled atop your blanket. You looked down at the thin grey cotton and reached under to unhook your bra. You flung it in the corner knowing you’d be cursing yourself when you couldn’t find it the next morning.

You flopped onto the couch and grabbed your remote. You turned on some mindless Youtube video and opened the mobile game which had taken too much of your life from you. You connected three and four and five and somewhere in between your existentialism kicked in and had you wondering at the point of it.

You closed the app before it ate all of your battery and your phone shook in your hand. 

‘You didn’t tell me who Eva is.’ The message flashed over the top of the screen then disappeared. You pulled down the notification and hit it. You were certain you’d blocked the number. The other messages were gone though and ‘unknown number’ was still emblazoned across the top. You blocked the convo again and dimmed the screen. 

You plugged in your phone and sprawled out across the sofa. You stared at the television, a blur and a buzz to your frantic mind. 

It was dark already when you dragged yourself off the couch and heated up a microwave dinner. You ate it without tasting and your phone chimed to signal a full charge. You left it as it was on the arm of the couch and resumed your repose on the sofa. You fell asleep to the angered commentary of a gamer trying to fight a clam.

You awoke with a start. You blinked through your daze as your television showed stills of mountain and grassy fields. You sat up and grabbed your phone. You checked the time; midnight. Another message.

‘She’s the one you had coffee with last week.’ It said.

You gaped and dropped your phone. You looked around as if whoever it was would be hiding in the corner. You shook as you reached down and took the phone. You swallowed and began to type.

‘Whoever this is, this isn’t funny anymore. Cut it out.’

‘Funny?’ The response came quickly.

‘I mean it. Stop.’

‘Good night, sweetheart.’

You recoiled at the message and bit your lip to keep it from trembling. You checked your door again, the chain still in place, checked every inch of your apartment in your paranoia. Nothing. You let out a breath and took a blanket from your bed and huddled up on the couch. You turned on a playlist, not sure you’d be sleeping much that night.

💌

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep again but you rose before your alarm. You drank your coffee as the sky turned a duller shade of grey. You went through your usual morning dance and headed out the door with a bagel hanging from your mouth. You chowed down on your way to the subway. You felt your bag buzz as you stepped on the train.

You ignored it and clung to the bar as you counted the stops. You got off and stopped by the coffee shop. You ordered a black tea and headed down to your building. Your desk was as it was when you left it. The chair was tucked in and your mouse was hidden behind the keyboard. You sat and booted the laggy machine.

As you waited for it to start, you stirred around in your bag for your phone. You had another message. You dreaded opening it but the circle just kept spinning in the middle of the monitor. You hit the bubble and your phone unlocked.

You took a sharp breath as the image glared back at you. It was you, on the subway, that morning judging by the jacket, staring at the door as the photo was taken unknowingly. Your phone slipped from your grasp and you spun in your chair.

Everything was as it should be. Your co-workers looked just as dead inside as you. Your boss was boxed up in his office on a ‘conference call’. You shuddered and turned back to your desk. You burned your tongue on your tea and signed into your computer. Your phone vibrated beside your shoe and you bent to retrieve it.

‘You looked tired this morning’. The next message blipped on the screen.

You were quick to sweep the clock upward and type. ‘Who the fuck is this?’

‘Sweetheart. I don’t like that kind of language.’ The response was quick and sharp, even in text.

‘Tell me who you are? Why are you doing this?’

‘One thing at a time.’ The letters burned into your vision.

‘Who are you?’ You keyed in again. No answer. 

You set the phone down and watched it. Five minutes, no buzz. You hovered your hand over your mouse and tried to focus on your monitor. Your heart was so loud in your ears, your head began to pound.

💌

When you got on the subway at the end of the day, you looked around frantically as you settled into a seat, your bag hugged to your chest. You glanced up and down the car a dozen times over as you awaited your cue. Your toe tapped anxiously and you stood so fast you were dizzy when your stop came up.

You rushed down the sidewalk, peeking over your shoulder every other step. You didn’t say anything unusual; no one following you, no one watching. You ran up to your building and unlocked the door clumsily. 

You hurried up the stairs and down the hall to your apartment. The key slid in roughly and you turned it so quick, you were certain it would bend. You skirted inside and put the chain in place.

You looked down as your thin-soled boot brushed over something. A pile of flyers slipped through the slot in your absence. You picked them up and sorted through them, an envelope amidst the mess. On its face, it read ‘for my sweetheart’.

You hovered by the door, staring at the envelope. After a moment, you slung your bag down on the floor and placed the flyers on the end table by the lamp. You clicked on the light and ran your thumb along the lip. You carefully opened it and pulled out the paper inside. You unfolded it and your breath caught in your chest.

It was a sketch, quite well done, of you. You’d worn that sweater last week. You went to the park and walked around, sat by the fountain, tossed rocks into the babbling basin. They had been there, whoever it was. How long had they been watching?

And they had been at your door, close enough to slip this through the slot. You folded the drawing and shoved it back in the envelope. You stomped into the kitchen and tossed it into the bin beneath the counter. You backed up and gripped the other counter behind you. You felt a lump in your throat. 

What the fuck was going on?

💌

You started going in early to work; catching the train half an hour before your usual one. You left late and changed your route between the station and your building. You entered through the back, hopping the low concrete barrier between the apartments and the backlot.

Still, it only gave you a single day of peace. No messages, no pictures; and you thought the game was over. You hoped it was. That it was just a sick joke that had finally grown tiring. 

But Thursday saw another image of you just outside your work building. Friday, another of you on the subway.

The weekend was listless. You did your shopping quickly and on Sunday, you wore a loose hoodie to the laundromat. You could find nothing peculiar around you. The city was full of sketchy people but none seemed to be watching you. The hordes were still about their own lives; ignorant of those around them. You felt entirely alone, as if you were being hunted.

Monday was much the same as the last but how could it ever be dull again. You shut your phone off so you could focus on your work. When you were finally done, you dialed the toll-free number for your provider. You took a taxi home and spent two hours on the line but you got your new number and a sense of relief.

You kept your phone on, ringer on max, and nothing. You watched the screen rather than the television but it only lit up with emails and a random text from your mother. You slept in your bed that night,almost soundly.

You still kept your eye over your shoulder. Still searched out any sign of unusual interest. Perhaps you were clueless or maybe your lack of response had finally gotten through to them. Once their messages bounced back as out of service, they might have given up. They got their laughs, now you wanted peace.

It lasted until Friday. 

A full week and you were certain it was over. You finished work and stopped by the liquor store for a bottle of wine on your way home. You could finally let loose. Life had gone back to its usual tedium. You browsed the reds lazily but pondered a pack of coolers instead. Your phone buzzed. You slid it from your pocket out of habit.

‘That cabernet on the top shelf is on sale. Just to your left.’ You stared at the message and backed away from the shelf. You looked around but all the other customers seemed intent on their own purchases. You gulped and blocked the unknown sender.

You left emptied-handed and ran for the train. You got home an hour later than usual. You raced up the stairs and stopped dead in front of your door. The tall gift bag looked familiar; it had been hanging in the store by the till. You neared and peered inside. The golden cap of the wine that had stood in front of you; top shelf.

You bent and flipped the little card attached to the string.

‘For you, sweetheart. Enjoy your weekend.’

You stood and grabbed the bag. You glanced up and down the halls and stormed back down the grey carpet. Your feet hammered down the stairs and you burst through the back doors. You threw the bag into the dumpster and heard the shatter. Your lip trembled as you spun and sprinted back inside.

When you reached your apartment, you called Eva. You struggled to open your dresser with one hand and started pulling out clothes and stuffing them into your neon duffle. She finally picked up.

“E-eva,” you stuttered, “can I-- Can I stay with you, please? J-just a night or two--”

“Wohoa, whoa, slow down,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you now. I’m just-- I’m freaking out and I can’t stay here.” Your voice cracked and you sniffed back tears, “I-- Please. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I… I have plans but I can cancel,” she offered.

“No, no, I… don’t--”

“You’ll have the apartment to yourself,” she said, “I’ll just let Ray know I’ll be late.”

“What time are you supposed to--”

“Seven but it’s fine,” she assured you. “You okay?”

“I… Wait, you’re fucking around with Ray again?”

“Do you want the couch or not?” She half-kidded, “you want me to meet you there or--”

“No, no,” you whisked into your washroom and grabbed your toothbrush, “I’m coming right now.” You returned to the bedroom and shoved an armful in the bag. “Eva… thank you.”

“Stay on the phone,” she said softly. “Please… you’re scaring me.”

“Okay,” you zipped up the duffle, “yeah, I’ll stay on.”

💌

You hung up as you came up to Eva’s building. She met you at the door, a thick silence between you as you sensed what she wanted to ask you. You weren’t sure how to tell you. You weren’t sure if you could.

You pushed the door closed behind you as you entered her apartment. It was cuter than yours, a spiral staircase led to a loft above and the curtains were lace and matched the dainty pillows on the couch. You placed your bag on the floor and she turned to you.

“Just give me a moment,” you said. She didn’t need to ask.

She went to the desk in the corner of the spacious room and turned on the ring light of the round mirror. She fished through her make-up box and pulled out her eyeliner. She was already done her base and highlight. You neared and hovered just beside her desk.

“I don’t even know…” you stopped yourself and went to your bag. You pulled out the paper you’d shoved in the side pocket on your way out. “Look.”

You crossed to her again and unfolded the sketch on her desk. She glanced down from drawing a wing along her eye and lowered the pencil. She blinked and shrugged.

“Look, someone dropped this through my mail slot. No address on the envelope, just this.” You felt crazy. “And I thought it was all some joke. They were sending me pictures, of me, of my building… I blocked them but they just kept on. I even changed my number.”

She scrunched her lips and looked back to her mirror. She finished her other eye and set the pencil down.

“You call the police?” She asked calmly.

“I… the drawing is all I have. I just deleted the messages when they came because… well, I didn’t think much of it at first. Not until… There was a bottle of wine waiting for me when I came home. The very same I was looking at right before I booked it for my train,” you rubbed your cheek, “Eva, I’m not crazy. I swear.”

“I believe you,” she said, “why wouldn’t I but… there’s nothing you can do but keep a log of what happens from here on out. Screencap everything.”

“You think… you think the police would help if I did?” You asked.

“Not much. Stalking isn’t really something they take seriously. I knew this girl in college-- Well, the evidence can at least get you a restraining order… if you ever figure out who’s sending you all this,” she paused and glanced down at the drawing. “Whoever it is, they got talent.”

“I’m sure they’d be happy to hear that,” you scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with you?”

You pondered her offer but shook your head.

“As much as I think you should send Ray along, no. I can’t ask any more of you.” You sighed and grabbed the sketch. You dragged your feet to the couch and flopped down on the cushions, “I really do appreciate it.”

“I always told you to get out of that neighbourhood,” she said as she searched her assortment of make-up, “but you know I never mind you hanging out.”

💌

You spent the night on Eva’s couch, alone. She didn’t get home until three in the morning and you waited until noon for her to wake up. When she did, her face was smeared with eyeliner and her hair a mess. 

You hadn’t touched your phone since the night before. You chewed your thumb as you waited for her to emerge from the shower, restless and unsure what to do with yourself. She slammed the lid down on her coffee machine and growled as she turned and crossed her arms.

“Are you okay?” she asked sharply.

“I’m sorry,” you said as you stopped pacing. You barely remembered getting up to walk circles around the coffee table, “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, how about a latte?” she yawned behind her hand, “my coffee machine is fucked… again.”

“Um, maybe that’s best, get out and… distract myself,” you twiddled your fingers as your stomach ached. You hadn’t eaten anything since the day before and that was just after noon.

“We’ll get lunch,” she rubbed her forehead, “soak up the wine.”

You shook your head and said nothing. She always drank too much around Ray but you didn’t have the energy for that argument again. So you stayed quiet and watched her disappear into her bedroom.

She emerged as you zipped up your purse. You didn’t bother with your phone as you waited by the door but felt listless without the device. It was like a shield you used when you went out in the world. It kept you from eye contact or awkward conversation.

You set off and headed down the street to the pub that seamlessly shifted from brunch to ladies’ night every Saturday. You ordered breakfast tacos as you sat just inside the large floor length windows that looked out onto the shady patio. The other guest lent a sense of normalcy as they carried on their own conversations and reminded you that you were just another ant on the hill.

As you got your latte in the stemmed glass, Eva pulled out her phone and scowled at the shaking. She was so wrapped up in her texts with Ray she hadn’t even mentioned the reason for your overnighter. You were happy for it and yet, you couldn’t think of anything else.

“Jesus, I told him we were having breakfast and he’s blowing up my phone,” she huffed, “just a second.”

“Eve,” you said as she stood and slid her thumb across the screen, “our foods gonna be here--”

“I won’t be long,” she promised and lifted the speaker to her ear and turned away, “Ray, I’ll be over later, promise. I barely slept--”

Her voice trailed away as she wove between tables and pushed out onto the patio and went to the short fence to chat beyond the ears of diners. You sipped from your drink and stared down at the splintered curve of the table. You couldn’t stay with Eva forever and she was hardly any comfort in her distraction with her on-again, off-again dirt bag. Maybe, if you moved--

“There you are, sweetheart,” the low voice startled you and you sat stalk straight as a figure smoothly slid into Eva’s empty chair, “you gave me quite a scare, up and leaving without a word…”

You stared wide-eyed at the stranger across from you. Well, you knew who he was. Everyone in the city, in the country, even the world, knew Steve Rogers. He smiled at you as his blue eyes glimmered. His posture was cool and confident and it was you who felt out of place.

And you knew, it was him. The shock was not enough to fuel your denial as that feeling deep down assured you of it. That little voice that told you this was your tormentor and that you were fucked.

“I…” you breathed and blinked. You couldn’t find the words, you hardly understood the storm of emotions flowing through you. You glanced through the window as Eva threw her hand up and continued berating her phone, “it’s you?”

“I hate that it has to be this way,” he said, “you know, my work keeps me out of town so much and I just wish we had more time.”

“Wha…” you gulped and gripped the edge of the table, “why--?”

“You haven’t been answering me,” his smile fell, “I don’t like being ignored.”

Your hand shook and you kept it in your lap to hide the rising terror along your spine. You sat paralysed as he sighed and glanced around the restaurant. He tilted his head and pushed his shoulders back.

“You threw out my gift,” he said evenly, “that wasn’t very nice.”

“Go…” you uttered, “go, please--”

“Sweetheart, we’re just talking,” he took a gulp of Eva’s Americano casually, “I missed you… I miss you every day and it hurts that we have to be apart.”

Your shoulders slumped and you clutched your hands in fists on your lap. You could scream but what good would that do. He was Captain America, the first avenger, a hero. 

As if your thoughts sent a banner waving, a young kid approached the table and smiled nervously as he held one of the colouring pages supplied by the restaurant in his hands.

“Um, Captain, uh, America,” the kid stuttered, “will you sign-- Will you sign my--?”

The kid smiled through tight lips and held up the colouring page. Instead, Steve chuckled and took his cap from his head and fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a sharpie and signed the brim and placed it back on the kid’s head.

“There you go,” he said.

“Thank you, Cap!” the kid almost squealed, “oh my gosh!”

“No problem,” Steve laughed and watched the kid run back to the table where his mother sat, she waved at the man across from you and mouthed a thanks. He cleared his throat and stood as he tucked away the marker, “sorry, this is why I didn’t wanna do this in public,” he gripped his hip with one hand, “but… we’ll have our time.” He slowly backed away, “I’ll text you. You’ll answer.”

He grinned one last time and strode away. He stopped before the door as he held it open for Eva and she batted her lashes at him as she gushed. You could guess at her star struck words but couldn’t make them out. He left as she finally stopped her babbling and she almost skipped over to you.

“Oh my god, did you see him?” she trilled, “I didn’t think he’d be even better looking in-person.”

“See who?” you asked dumbly as you tried to disguise your discomfort in your latte.

“Steve Rogers,” she announced, “ugh, even without your phone, you got your head in the ground.”

[ahjustroza]

Do you have any hcs abt Last Legacy modern au?

Sorry for the wait! I just write very slow 🥺😭 btw I am still writing other requests! I'll post them as soon as I finish writing ✨😌😏 And YES I still take requests😏😏😏

Lol btw I haven't played the catboy Felix tale yet but found his delicious CG. Also, there might be typos etc. My dyslexia was a hoe for the last couple of days (･_･

Last Legacy Modern Au Headcanons

Sage

Lmao the first time you went to his place you faced with an ancient-looking old computer that he found in a garage sale

"It still works"

"Sage with its monitor alone you can heat your entire house in winter"

"Aye, but I don't have to use that to get heated if you catch my drift."

Let me give you a concept: thrift store dates

You took him to a thrift store once and thought it might be fun

But at the moment you entered the store Sage found a damn fake fur jacket and gold sunglasses

He will buy anything with a famous brand logo and say it is original and is an antique

But he'll only do that to annoy people

Mostly.

Sage cares about his looks but doesn't go crazy about it

Before dating you he just lived his life like a street kid like in cyberpunk 2077

Sage and Tulsi grew up in slums and then Sage got an apartment so that Tulsi could grow up in a safe environment

He didn't go to college but made sure that Tulsi did

Sage basically works as a mercenary in the modern au as well

He travels a lot and has to disappear for a looong long time

Tulsi is used to it but you aren't

Once you two are in a relationship and he feels ready to settle down he might get a job closeby to your shared house

You made him realize that he needs his family around him

And now he is not alone to carry all the burden by himself

He knows that if he can't make it in time you will be there to help out Tulsi or take care of all the work for him

He feels lighter around you

Also, he makes many people jealous on the streets lol

Whenever you two are on a date no one can believe that you, a literal divine being, could look at a Boku no pico catboy maid-sama man like him.

He is also jealous of you

But never possessive

He likes to send you out of context memes in the worst possible times ever

Like you got Luigi and Mario animations, doing the waltz, with the Britney Spears' Toxic song during the busiest hour of your shift

He also texted "This us"

The audacity

Sage would also LOVE video games

Especially Final Fantasy games

But he suck at playing them so he makes you play instead

And he'll give instructions too

"I saw a checkpoint in the other room babe,"

"Love, I gotta run away from the boss right now."

"It's not the boss, bosses have their boss rooms. This is an obstacle"

Sage also suck at filing taxes

So good luck with that

I can see Sage having PTSD treatments because of his traumatized childhood and the life he had to live until now after settling down with you

You convinced him to go to therapy and Tulsi backed you up

So he will take medications every day

At first, you had to remind him a lot, but then he just made it an addiction and now doesn't need reminders

He was never happier and finally had a taste of a healthy and caring relationship with you

He is also not so terrible with putting the IKEA furniture together.

Felix

He got expelled from Harvard.

Then his rich father had to convince the headmaster to reconsider the decision and Felix ended up with suspension instead smh

Felix's grades are great but he has disciplinary issues

I can see him majoring in criminal justice and mortuary science

Or maybe just mortuary science

Escell was very disappointed in him.

He is also famous for dating with the valedictorian among Harvard graduates

Then they broke up and you yeeted yourself in his life

Or he yeeted himself to your arms

He literally dramatically fell one day and you happened to be close to catch him

Then the Titanic music played in the background with the slow summer rain fell down to your heads

You are hot so he was flustered

Like he internally screamed when he fell in your arms

Or shall I say fell in love?

You two then started as friends since not too later he found out that he might actually have a chance with you after you mentioned your love of video games and romance books

After starting to date he confessed that he has an AO3 account asddgf

Rime was a burden too

He was the one who broke Felix's heart

But still wanted him to only love him and him alone

Then you were like

"Hoe listen to me..."

Rime hot

But no

Felix cried until morning the day you fist fought Rime in the grocery store parking lot

AAHGDHFA

Scylla secretly approved your determination that day and watched the fight afar

Escell got drunk and Florian came home the day after for everyone's explanations

The deeper your relationship got the more a part of his family you become

I mean every Friday it was now a routine that Felix and you attended family dinner

No one even asks anymore they just put your plate down and Escell hides his most expensive wine bottles from everyone

Felix is not good to live in his own house though

He always lived with someone in the house so he wasn't alone

Ever.

When you moved into the same house with him Felix was relieved

You two will be emos together and watch fifty shades of grey movies during the quarantine

Please ask Felix if he thinks the movie is interesting, he will avoid you all day long

Then become a blanket burrito at night lmao

Oh btw he might tell you random facts about mortuary

Like you are in the shower and he comes in to brush his teeth

Then he'll tell you a fact you didn't have to know then leave

"Truly fascinating, if you ask me."

He is also the type to text you from the other side of the room

Or call you from the other room to ask you if you can bring him something to eat

Felix would also love to go to the farmers' market too

"Finally some quality food."

Whenever you two go on a vacation together

lmao someone ALWAYS takes his hand and reads his palm

Only to be ended up getting scolded and getting a proper palm reading from Felix

Anisa

Call her and ask if she wants drive tru

"Love, it is thREE IN THE MORNING, I have work tomorrow-"

"So two? Or nah?"

"Get a coffee."

Actually, she wants a cookie but won't admit it

She knows you'll get her a cookie

You always get her a cookie with coffee

Anisa might be a great investigator if you ask me

If not a detective or a police chief or lieutenant

But I think she would work in law enforcement

Or she might also start her own company and rise as well

Unlike Sage and Felix, Anisa will not live in the same house with you before she decides to settle down for good

It's not because she doesn't want you around her

But because she is always at work and doesn't want to leave everything to you to handle at home

But she is always with you on her day offs

Will call you once a day at least

Text you during her breaks or whenever she can

If you can show up at her workplace during the lunch break she will take you to the nearest coffee shop

"Their coffee is not nearly as good as yours, but among other shops, this is the most drinkable one."

She will spoil you during your dates!

She likes to see you smile and will do anything for you to have a good time with her

So expect sweets, movie nights, amusement park dates, or just traveling during both of your yearly week/month offs/breaks

She won't admit it but likes it when you try to match your clothes with hers

She will know your favorite everythings lol

Take her to a dinner date and she will be so happy and feel spoiled

She will let you paint her nails

Let you get all the hot water in the shower

Will let you wear her clothes

Pillow fights are allowed every now and then

When she gets sick she'll try to power through but likes it when you baby her

Whenever you get sick she will try to not fuss over you but every 15 minutes she'll ask to take you to see a doctor

She is a cereal gal

You might have to drag her to bed many nights because she will take work at home

Oh my god, do play dungeons and dragons with her

If you visited somewhere she has never been she will ask a lot of questions about your trip

Likes to binge a tv series you two found online

Also enjoys just silent but comfortable moments with you

When you read your book she will gaze at you

All heart eyes

Will put her favorite picture of you two as her profile picture in her social media accounts

Will like your every post

ALWAYS TEXTS BACK TO YOU. ALWAYS.

Never leaves you on read/seen

She will either give you a proper text or just let you know that she is busy at the moment

Also if you come home later than her she will ask if you want her to prepare anything special you want for dinner

otherwise, she'll do dishes that you both like anyway

If she is late, she'll call you to ask if you need anything from the grocery store, etc.

[strawbearisamu]

for a day like this

timeskip! hanamaki takahiro x gn! reader

summary: a coincidence on a train ride home leads to a confession and kissing in the rain.

note: requested by anon :) here, semi long one guys

cw: light swearing, semi makeout scene

wc: 1.8k 

the sky shrouded by a dense fog, the blue of it completely concealed by a covering of wooly grey clouds. rain continuing to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard a disembodied female voice announce the departure of the train. you sighed, train starting to move as you look out your window only to see a strike of lightning, the muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of the impending consequences of today's events.

"miss..miss...excuse me miss?" shaken from your daze, you meet the face of a middle aged woman carrying an infant and a young child, "miss, would you mind switching seats with me? there just isn't enough space for my baby's breastfeeding equipment on the other side." she asked apologetically, "even though i specifically requested it," mumbling the last part under her breath.

you press your lips in to a small smile, grabbing your things as she thanked you in relief, your eyes light up at a familiar shade of strawberry brown, occupying the very seat next to the one you were supposed to replace, "makki?" you couldn’t help the grin as called out from behind.

he whipped his head towards you, eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as he eyed you a few times. as if making sure you weren't a fake, making sure the familiar resonance and tenor of your voice, the one he replays to himself some nights, making sure it wasn't just an auditory hallucination. "y/n."

eyes lighting up with excitement, you speed up towards him, engulfing his sitting form in a warm hug, arms wrapped around his neck as he breaths in your scent.

"missed me huh?" you don't miss the playful glint in his eyes as you finally let him go. "yeah," a beaming grin displacing the forlorn look on your face.

"what were you doing in the city?" you asked, squeezing past him into the window seat as he towered over to the side of the walkway to make room, you see his eyes glaze over for a split second before he says "just a reunion with the boys."

"how are they! you guys were always quite the gang."

"yeah," he paused, slight hesitation lingering in his voice, "they're good i mean, really good."

the thunder crackling, a shot of lightning briefly lighting the gloomy sky as the scenery beyond your cabin window blurred with the speeding train.

"you look awful," he says, words slipping out absentmindedly, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he spluttered an apology, rambling on, "not as in you're ugly but your clothes, your stuff, it just looks a little...disheveled."

you burst into laughter, the first time today, "my bag was stolen today, some guy on a motorbike snatched it and knocked me over, it was crazy! i tried chasing him too!" you recounted the story again, but for the first time today, in humour.

"pfft, sorry not the point, you tried chasing him?" his mouth curving into his signature lazy grin.

"what's your point strawberry head?" narrowing your eyes at him as he raised his hands, pleading innocence. "you okay though?"

"i'll survive, can't say the same for my job, had some really important work documents there, weren't supposed make copies, now they're gone."

"oh..."

"yeah, i'm so pissed but well the jury will be out after the weekend," you sighed, "but anyway should we be talking about how you look just as bad as me, makki?"

a boyish laugh resonates from him, it does something to you, the familiar scratchiness of it inscribed in your mind from long ago. the corner of his eyes crinkled, "shit i guess i do," he said. "mhmm," you hummed, nodded along in laughter.

"the reunion," he cleared his throat, "i mean first off, this is not even close to being as bad as your day," he precautioned.

"just get on with it," you rolled your eyes.

twisting and fiddling the ring on his pinky, "just saw everyone doing really well, what with oikawa and iwaizumi being on olympic teams, even mattsun has a steady career and plan you know? i think i'm second guessing myself? i thought i was living life, having fun, but sometimes everything feels like filler before death.”

you nodded along to him, listening intently. you had always known makki to be more of a free spirit so this was rare.

"we all have those days," you mumble under your breath.

you let a comfortable silence fall between you, rummaging your bag for the slightly squished convenience store sandwich and your earphones.

"it’s tough huh, trying to find our place now.” you said, handing him one side of your earphones.

“yeah, so much easier when you’re two dumbasses goofing around, playing with erasers and tic tac toe during class," he slotted in the bud, and you do the same, as the ambient music filled your ears.

“you and mattsun?" you probed.

“no you, you and me.” for second his playful facade falters. his eyes lingering on yours as you held each other captive, your stare burning through his enigmatic grey eyes, a raw emotional intensity that made it seem like time had slowed down, neither of you finding the courage to make a move in the moment of impenetrable tension.

"i guess the rain is quite fitting for a day like this." you finally dared to look away, taking in the storm weathering just beyond your window, "but somehow i feel a little better now makki. maybe it's your pink hair."

"you do love it," he said, "i feel a little better too," he whispered, and you barely catch it.

—

he took a deep breath in, releasing it in a heavy sigh. “miyagi air right? nothing like it.”

“can’t tell if you’re a free spirit or an old man now.” you stepped off the platform, bags in hand.

"let me walk you tonight. you don’t have an umbrella.”

“neither do you?” you pointed out, handing him one of your bags as the both of you walked towards the exit.

"don't worry, i've got a plan," he winked a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

—

the wind howls, your hair violently blowing into his face, "this was your genius plan makki? run a little faster will you!" you shout over the blaring pour of the rain, incredulous.

"easy for you to say, you're not the one hauling your heavy ass bag." one of your bags slung around his shoulder, arms stretched around the both of you as he holds his jacket up for cover. well, your cover, his exposed side completely drenched.

"we're close," you called out, awkwardly trudging across the puddle ridden road, his warmth emanating from beside you as your heart raced in your chest, though you couldn't decide if that was the rain or makki, more probably both you finally decided.

"we actually made it in one piece." you breathe a sigh of relief as you finally made it under the roof of your home, catching your breath a little as he twisted his rain soaked jacket.

"what are you waiting for? aren't you gonna open it?" he asked.

"okay what?"

"open the door?"

"i don't have the keys, they got stolen remember?" you said dubiously, now working the water out of your clothes as he gave you a baffled look.

"what? how are we gonna get in?

"well i assumed you had the keys?"

"how in the world would in have your keys?"

"in that confe-, letter i gave you? said you were here all the time you might as well have the key and gave you a key?"

"letter? what letter, y/n?"

"wait the letter...you didn't receive it?" the colour in your face drained, you took a sudden notice to his drenched figure.

"you're soaked dumbass." you say in an attempt to quickly move on, unzipping your bag to pull out a fresh t-shirt. he tries to stop you but you don't let him.

"shut up just let me do this makki." you pull on his forearm, tugging him down to meet your eye-level, his face inches from yours as you gently pat his face and neck dry.

"is this just an excuse to kiss me?" the same lazy smirk playing on his face again but his expression morphs into an unreadable one, eyes clouding, "the letter," he whispered looking down at you, his bangs skirting his lashes as you dabbed his cheek with a t-shirt.

"you wish you could kiss me," you joke.

"i do wish," he doesn't.

"was it a confession?" you didn't answer him, "can i kiss you makki?" the burning desire held off long enough as you somehow found the courage to ask.

makki broke into a smile, clumsily taking your hands in his, hurriedly dragging you back into the rain shower. hard rain hitting you, massaging your head, but even as you felt your senses become overwhelmed your attention was still singly engrossed by the man in front of you.

"what are you doing? i just patted you dry!" you reprimanded him, shouting over the pour of the rain, looking up at him, now 6'1, his soft gaze easily slipping past your faux stern one.

"it's more dramatic this way," he whispered, his hand gently caressing your face, thumb running circles on the now flushed apples of your cheek, his eyes becoming clearer to you as you finally begun to understand the liquid grey eyes that held you captive for so long. your heart speeding up again, butterflies fluttering aggressively in your stomach.

you tiptoed a little, eagerly reaching a hand into his now drenched strawberry pink hair that you were always so fixated on. he responded in kind, securing an arm around your waist, hoisting you up, you body colliding into his warmth, lower lip tingling a little as he traced it with his slightly calloused thumb. finally, he cups your jaw, taking your lips in his.

his lips warm, soft, impossibly plush against your own, the soft tickle of your hair on his cheek, your honeyed taste playing on his tongue, the shared warmth between you melding into one, your heartbeat synchronous, in perfect parallel with your harmonised movement. lips slightly parted, he bit your lower lip as you moaned a little.

"you think the neighbours can see us?" you pulled away, holding his cheeks in your hands, still in a slight daze.

"don't know, don't care."

"when did it become a drizzle?" you asked as he shrugged in response, desperate to capture your lips in his again.

and you guys stood there, in the light drizzle of the rain, soft rays of sunlight finally peaking through the glum clouds, making out for the audience of your entire neighbourhood, enjoying the petrichor of the rain. because yeah you were still locked out of your house, yeah you were probably getting fired and yeah he still didn't know shit about what he was gonna do, but everything seemed just a little bit better.

"i guess the rain was quite fitting for a day like this.”

sol's comments: can you tell i have no idea how to write a makeout scene? :")

m.list | each and every reblop is appreciated ☻ (+ free hugs)

[sunjaesol]

and in the haze you see colours

juke | human soulmate au | title: 5 am // amber run

The first colour she ever saw was purple.

When someone was born, they got to see one colour. To each it was different and often a reflection of one's aura. Julie's aura was purple and, naturally, it was the colour she could see. Which was unfortunate, as there weren't many purple things in life - not naturally, at least.

And so, her entire bedroom was purple. Purple walls and purple sheets and purple stationary. The rest were varying shades of grey. Often times, she asked her parents why some were lighter than others, and they told her about green and blue and red. It sounded like a fairy tale. Red was warm, apparently, and blue was flexible and green was fresh. Despite their best attempts, she couldn't visualise it.

It didn't matter. Once she met her soulmate, she would see all the colours imaginable.

Befriending Flynn was easy. The girl had purple ribbons in her hair and that instantly attracted Julie. Vice versa, Julie's orange dress was a plus for Flynn. Through their deep bond, oranges slowly infused itself in her cornea. Orange, like a child's laughter.

With Carrie came pink. Pink, like the fiery moves of a dancer. It was close to purple, so it wasn't a huge shock to see a bouquet of roses suddenly come alive with colour.

In retrospect, gaining orange and pink wasn't that amazing. Not when she lost her mother while doing so. Placing pink dahlias on her grave was just another punch in the gut.

Years passed and people around her found their soulmates. In freshmen year, so many students gasped and fainted as they crossed eyes with their One. She went to parties and someone would start randomly kissing the other. She went to open mics and watched as her soprano voice accompanied two people finding love. It was as beautiful as it was tragic.

Julie was seventeen and she still hadn't found her soulmate. Statistically, most had by now. Had she not gone to The Orpheum that night, she might’ve waited even longer.

Flynn urged her to go to this new and upcoming band, Sunset Curve, as their sound was someone she’d vibe with. Julie wasn’t really feeling it, drowning in homework and song ideas, but her friend was persistent. They needed a breather from everything and a concert was the perfect remedy. After a quick Google search, she realised they were her age. Curiosity swelled in her chest, wondering how they moved up from open mics or school assemblies to the iconic stage of The Orpheum. The only thing she could note about the band was the drummer’s pink hoodie. That was it.

The venue was packed when they arrived. Boisterous chatter, antsy for the band to come on stage and fill the spaces between the instruments. Glasses chiming of sodas and beers being filled and passed around, the soft hum of pop music blaring from a speaker. Most of the crowd were kids from neighbouring schools and all dressed more alternatively. Though she didn’t see most colours, it was clear as day the band tees were vintage and the trousers were ripped or checkered or both.

She shot Flynn a look. “Are you sure this is our thing?”

“Yes!” Propelling them to the front of the stage and consequently shouldering kids in the ribs, she added: “Their biggest hit is, like, insane. And you’ve been in a funk all week, so you need some insanity. To like, counteract it. I don’t know.”

Julie withheld a pout. She’s been ‘in a funk’, because while she was at Eats & Beats grabbing a coffee, two strangers fawned at the sight of each other. RIght in front of her nose, another couple found. It normally didn’t affect her that much, but it did this time. The girl was sick of hearing about romantical love instead of experiencing it herself. Sure, she had Flynn and Carrie and her family, but…

But she wanted that. She wanted more. And with each ticking hour, it felt less and less viable. Where was the One for her?  

The lights dimmed and the pop music stopped, smoke drifting across the stage as the audience began hollering and whistling. Egging the band to get on and give a performance worth watching. The hyped-up teens pushed everyone to the front, now Julie and Flynn forced to crane their necks to watch.

The drummer came on first, all applauding for him as he took his seat and started a drum beat that quickly upped in tempo. It swept them up in an atmosphere, heads bobbing and feeling that rise in anticipation.

Then the bassist came. His dark jacket glittered in the overhead lights, the flannel peaking beneath almost hinting at orange but remaining grey. He added to the beat, bringing in a bassline that had feet bouncing and more people cheering. The mic at the front remained empty, teasing its explosion of lyrics and electricity.

Finally, at the crescendo of sound, the frontman stormed on. He was all charm and smirks and cut-offs and blazing purple shoes. That caught her off guard, eyes dropping to the ultraviolet sneakers. A shock of colour amidst the grey.

His raspy voice belted out lyrics, a grin pulling on Julie’s face at the musicality. Grabbing Flynn’s hand, they jumped around with the other people. Their music was insane. It was fast and clashing and aggressive and raw.

With her neck in its odd position, she observed the singer for a beat. He was… hot. That was all Julie could think. He was hot. His hair falling perfectly right, big eyes, the smile breaking all lines in his face like a beautiful mosaic. Humming like an undercurrent was a buzz right beneath her ribs. Snug and warm, which could’ve been the vibrations from the amps, but it felt different. A good different.

They were in their fourth song when it happened. The band was kicking and jumping around, singing about making it big and not looking down, skyrocketing to stardom, when it happened.

The lead singer dropped to his knees and let the guitar riff bleed to the front row. The audience hollered, Julie laughing in delight at the expert playing, when her and the guy’s gazes met.

He yelped, music stopping short as he careened over the edge and crashed to the floor. Simultaneously, Julie felt the air knocked out of her lungs, losing balance and falling into Flynn. Her eyes were shrivelling with heat, as if hit with the embers of a campfire. A hammer slammed down on the buzz in her chest, electrifying the feeling till it was nearly unbearable.

Her eyes shot open. And then there was colour.  

The crowd dispersed in fright. Gasps and gawks echoed to the back, curious murmurs carefully watching the guy and the girl come to their senses.

“Flynn,” she exclaimed, grabbing for her friend. “Flynn, I can-”

Except she wasn’t there, joining the rest of the crowd further back. The bassist and drummer were watching on, baffled.

Oh. Her stare drifted to the squirming boy on the floor. Oh.

Luke scrambled upright, instantly coming face to face with Front Row Girl and all the colours he has wished to see forever. His eyes were burning from shock and euphoria, greys and whites bleeding out of his bloodstream.

Her hands grasped for his face, worried, lips forming words he hardly registered but vaguely processed as ‘asking if he was okay.’

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, his gaze racing across her features to wholly take her in.

Warm skin and wide, brown eyes and dark lashes and curled, pink lips and a pointed chin and glossy, long curls dancing against her cheeks and soft hands and red - she was wearing red. His colour. His soulmate.

He laughed. “Hi.”

She matched it, giggling. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he sighed, still in disbelief that she was his soulmate. His soulmate. His soulmate. The One.

Her trembling smile softened, thumbs swiping across his cheekbones. “You have really pretty eyes,” she whispered.

Her own were shining with unshed tears and he felt himself choking up too. Never in a million years did he think he’d meet his soulmate. To him, it had always been music. Sure, it sounded nice, but he knew he shouldn’t be yearning for it. He had his friends - his aura was red and he gained pink from Alex and yellow from Reggie.

But suddenly she was here. She was really here.

“You’re- pretty-” he stumbled, causing her to laugh again.

Yeah, there was no way he’d be able to continue the gig. The Orpheum was a big deal, but meeting your soulmate? Most monumental moment of anyone's life.

There was so much colour now. So much life. There was so much more than just music and red and pink and yellow to enjoy. (Songs swirled in his mind though, exciting him to the bone as his hands slid to grab her own. Winking all coy, like the best was yet to come.)

“Do you wanna talk?” he rushed out after.

She nodded. “Yeah. You- uh- your band-”

Their fingers intertwined, warmth dancing in his heart. “Doesn’t matter,” he chuckled. “Really does not matter right now.”

The light of a camera flash and exhilarated screams of ‘soulmates!’ ripped them from their bubble. The bassist jumped offstage and clapped Luke on the back, whispering at him to go to the alley. Leading her away, there was no sense of doubt in their steps. Luke didn’t know her name, she maybe didn’t know his. None of that mattered. There was colour now.

From the alleyway, they found themselves wandering around the Strip as they talked for ages. Her name was Julie, his was Luke, they were musicians, they were seventeen, their auras were purple and red, he decided he adored her smile the most and she his twinkling eyes.

“I think they’re green,” Julie said, peering into his eyes. She was impossibly close and it sort of took his breath away. “They’re fresh.”

“Fresh?” he grinned.

She didn’t lean back - she didn’t want to, his soul simply enigmatic - and asked him the same question. “What are mine?”

His expression softened, a smile twitching on his lips. They’re beautiful. “Brown, I think,” he said instead. “Not sure though. You wanna figure it out tomorrow?”

Her stride halted, their grasp on each other nearly yanked apart. His brows raised expectantly. It was there - that invisible, innate, sense of understanding. It wasn’t just colour. It was the refusal to look at colour alone, ever again. It was insane for the both of them, how their rushing thoughts slotted all puzzle pieces together without a hitch. It had that satisfying click-click-click sound, like dominoes.

Luke found himself coming back to her, the space between them disappearing till their arms pressed together and there were no forces tugging them together. It was all themselves.

“I have a book about colour,” Julie eventually said. “We can learn them all.”

He smirked. “I can tell you your lips are pink.”

“Yours are too.”

“Yeah?” he teased.  

But then she lifted a finger and pressed against the plump skin. His heart stopped short at the sensation. Before he gave into the instinct to pucker them and kiss it, her hand dropped.

Julie grinned. “And now they’re red.”

When Luke kissed her, hers were red too.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @unsaidjulie​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @pink-flame​ @constantly-singing​ @stydixa​

[hercleverboy]

jealous

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ spencer comes to terms with the fact that the reader will never love him the way he loves her.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ heartbreak, unrequited love.

word count ↠ 2.6k

“But I always thought you’d come back, tell me that all you found was heartbreak and misery.” — Jealous by Labrinth

‘I'm jealous of the rain

That falls upon your skin

It's closer than my hands have been

I'm jealous of the rain’

Spencer loved the rain. 

Well, not exactly. He loved to watch how it fell from the grey, angry clouds above as he sat warm and cosy in his apartment. He loved the rain if he was safe inside. He wouldn’tlike to get caught in a downpour, however. 

He watched contently as the droplets fell against the window, staining the glass and jarring his view of the street below. It made him feel peaceful, and he would argue that there was no better sound to read to than that of the rain. 

His focus dropped from the copy of ‘War and Peace’ in his hands, his mind focused on something else entirely. 

Not so much something but someone. 

Y/N had been Spencer’s closest friend for years at that point, having met him a few months after he’d started working at the BAU. 

They spent pretty much any moment they could together. Spencer took her to museum exhibits and art galleries and she would listen intently as he rambled. He’d always stop mid-sentence and blush, apologising for getting ahead of himself but she’d simply smile and shake her head. 

“You don’t ever have to apologise for sharing your wonderful knowledge with me, Spence. You know I could listen to you all day,” She’d say, “Keep going, please?”

He never could say no to her. 

If there was anyone in the world he felt most comfortable with, it was her. She never ridiculed him or babied him like the team had a habit of doing. If there was a case that ended poorly she never pushed for him to confide in her, giving him the time and space to disclose his feelings when he was ready (something he was incredibly grateful for.)

For a long while, things were strictly platonic for Spencer. One day she was his best friend, the person he felt the most himself around, and the next day it was something more. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment in which his feelings for her changed, or what had caused them too. Since when had her welcoming hugs begun feel so warm? At what point had her giggle caused the butterflies in his stomach that he’d only ever read of in great poetry or love stories?

He tried to push the feelings away, he really did, but ultimately his attempts to avoid his newfound affection for her were fruitless. Nothing could be done, he finally had to face the facts. He was in love with her. In love with every adorable quirk, every smile, and every part of her; even the parts she deemed unworthy and ugly, he loved them all the same. 

He wanted her to be his so badly. 

There was only one slight problem. 

Y/N wasn’t his to have. She had a boyfriend, a long term one at that. She was in a committed relationship with a man that wasn’t Spencer and he’d still allowed himself to fall in love with her. 

Nice one, Spencer. 

*

Spencer looked up at the clouds above him, frowning at the sight of the different shades of grey they were. He looked over at Y/N who walked alongside him. He’d gotten them tickets to a Russian Film festival, and he’d insisted she went with him so he could do a simultaneous whisper translation while they watched. 

“It looks like it’s going to rain.” He broke the comfortable silence between them, his voice wavering slightly. 

She looked up, a grin coming to her lips at the sight. “I hope it does, you know I like the rain.” 

He chuckled lightly at that. “I do too! But who wants to be caught in it and end up soaking wet?” 

She gasped in mock hurt. “I’m sorry Mr. 187, maybe I want to get caught in the rain, like a scene in some cheesy rom-com.”

He shook his head at her, his gaze dropping back down to look at the pavement beneath them.

Then the downpour started, just as Spencer had predicted. The rain was heavy and cold, essentially soaking them in seconds. 

Spencer ducked under nearby shelter, pulling his coat tighter around him. He looked back over at Y/N, surprised to find her stood out in the rain, her arms outstretched and a grin on her lips. 

“Y/N! What are you doing? You’re gonna get cold!” He shouted out, trying to make himself heard over the loud pelts of rain. 

“I’ll be fine!” She called back. 

“You know there’s a widespread myth that you lose the most body heat through your head. Studies have actually concluded that you only lose about ten percent of heat through your head.” Spencer shouted, and she turned to him with a smile, one that dismissed his facts. “You’re not even wearing a jacket, Y/N!”

“You know as well as I do, Doctor, that there’s no direct correlation between the rain and getting sick, so don’t even try that with me.” 

“You’re right, but there’s a very real chance of hypothermia. Actually, last year it was reported that approximately 700 people in the US died of hypothermia-”

“Spence!” She grinned, politely interrupting his statistics. “Come join me! Live a little!” 

He shook his head adamantly. “I’m okay, thank you. But you carry on.” 

He watched on in awe at the sight before him. He pushed all the statistics on the probability of her getting sick to the back of his head, focused on how she looked it that moment. Her body was lit only by pale moonlight and dim streetlamps, but Spencer thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

He should’ve told her, then. Should’ve told her how much he loved her, how he could give her everything she craved, more than her boyfriend ever could. He wondered how he would put into words that he’d find a way to give her the world if she asked for it. 

But he said nothing. 

He could envision himself saying it.

He allowed himself to dream of speaking the words, how her face would light up and he’d finally get to hold her the way he yearned to. He thought of how proud Garcia would be of him since she’d practically been begging him to make a move ever since she learned of the situation. (” It’s not that simple, Garcia. She has a boyfriend!” “That’s a minor detail, Reid!”)

He could picture himself saying the words. He could see how she’d look over at him with those adorably furrowed brows and stunning eyes. The rain would pour over them like in the scene from Pride and Prejudice, as he finally dared to say the words he’d held onto for so very long. 

‘I love you, most ardently.’

His very own Elizabeth Bennet.

But he said nothing.

Instead, when she came back over to him, her figure shivering as the cold finally set in, he simply offered her a cheeky grin. A simple look that said, ‘I told you so’. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, waving off her protests that he was going to get cold now.

As if that mattered, as long as she was warm.

*

Any attempt to sleep seemed useless. No matter how many poems he read to himself in his mind, sleep simply wasn’t coming. With a frustrated huff he moved to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling defeatedly. Although he wished it wouldn’t, his mind travelled to Y/N. His heart lurched and just the thought of her, accompanied by the newest of the plethora of emotions he was feeling- jealousy. He wondered if her boyfriend knew just how lucky he was to be lying next to her, to have the privilege of holding her close, of telling her he loved her. 

Spencer wasn’t a possessive man, he knew very well that Y/N didn’t belong to him, nor did she belong to anyone. She wasn’t an object to be had, and Spencer would never treat her as such. However, he found himself wishing to a being he wasn’t sure he believed in that she would be his. Perhaps it was selfish and wrong, to hope that she’d turn up heartbroken on his doorstep so that he could pick up the pieces of her broken by another man. It was definitely selfish to wish her so much heartache so that he could ultimately get what he wanted.  

He recognised that she didn’t owe him anything. She didn’t owe him her love in return for his. But that almost made it worse; that this situation was nobody’s fault. It wasn’t Y/N’s fault for not returning his affections, nor was it her boyfriends’. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault either, he knew that deep down. He knew that no matter how many times he wished he’d told her sooner, before another man had swept her away, it wouldn’t have changed her feelings for him. 

It almost brought him to tears. It’d be easier, he thought, easier if she did something that made me hate her. But he didn’t hate her, he didn’t think he ever could. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone or anything and there no words to describe the burning pain in his chest as the realisation that he was all alone dawned on him. 

Y/N didn’t love him. At least, not in the way he wanted her too. 

He could almost kid himself into thinking that she was going to knock on his door, tell him she’d left her boyfriend and confess her love for him. It was silly, and really doing him more damage than good to indulge in this self-serving fantasy he’d created, but it was the only thing that gave him enough peace to finally fall into slumber. 

*

He nearly said it one day.

It was a Friday evening, and they were sat together at his apartment, having just finished watching a bunch of films. Y/N was mid-tangent about an interesting fan theory she’d read up on, while Spencer sat next to her trying to clear his thoughts. 

His mind was screaming at him, this is it, it said, this is your chance. He knew it was selfish, quite possibly the most selfish thing he’d ever do. Especially when she was with someone else, the man she was building a life with- and Spencer was going to tear it all down with three simple words. 

The most selfish thing he’d ever do. 

And some part of him, some silly, hopelessly romantic part of him told him she wasn’t going to reject him. No, instead, she would admit she loved him too- and everything would be okay. Right? 

“Y/N I-“ He interrupted her, and she looked over surprised as she stopped talking. She took in his tone of voice; how pained it sounded. She watched at how he cringed for interrupting her, his trembling hands coming to clutch fistfuls of his beige coloured cardigan in a nervous attempt to calm himself.

He evidently had something he needed to get off his chest.

“Yeah, Spence?” She prodded when he didn’t speak.

“I- I have to tell you something, something I should’ve told you a long time ago.” He rushed out, his voice shaking. He knew he’d have to force himself to say the words. He told himself to stop thinking so hard and just say them, because he knew all too well that he wouldn’t get the opportunity again. 

“Okay. It’s okay, take your time. It’s just me.”

“I-I” He stuttered, trying to force the three simple words to leave his lips but he couldn’t seem to do it. He desperately wanted to, and it ached because he could feel them on the tip of his tongue.

Then his eyes met hers, and he stopped. His brain seemed to grant him a moment of clarity among the chaos and overwhelming thoughts. He tried to profile her, to use what he knew about human behaviour and how he’d read once that the eyes were the windows to the soul. He recalled how happy she always was when she spoke of her boyfriend, and Spencer couldn’t deny that from what he’d heard, he treated her well. Like she deserved. It shattered his heart all over again, but how could he sit there and tear away the happiness of the woman he loved? He knew what him confessing would do to her. She’d go into overdrive trying to compensate for not feeling the same, overexert herself trying to be the greatest friend she could be — and all the while she’d smile, as though the knowledge that she’d (unintentionally) hurt her best friend wasn’t killing her inside. 

He couldn’t do that to her. 

Not as he stared at her now, her worried eyes on him as she tried to figure out how to help him. 

He couldn’t hurt her like that. 

Spencer would hurt himself a hundred times over if it meant she was unharmed. He supposed that was what the meaning of love really was. Sacrificing yourself for the one you love. 

He gave a sad smile and shook his head. “Um, you know what? It’s nothing.”

Her eyebrows knitted together as she scoffed. “Seriously? You’re gonna leave me hanging like that?” Her tone was amused although she feigned disappointment. 

“Guess so.” He forced a chuckle, and Y/N opened her mouth to speak before the sound of her phone ringing cut through the air. She looked over at it, a small smile reaching her features at the sight of the name that flashed across the screen. 

“Is that your boyfriend calling?” Spencer asked quietly. 

She nodded. “I’ll tell him to call back later.” She moved her hand to click decline but Spencer’s voice stopped her. 

“No. It’s okay. You should answer it now, it might be important.”

She seemed hesitant but nodded nonetheless, moving a few paces away from him before answering and talking softly into the phone. A few minutes later she hung up. 

“Everything okay?” Spencer questioned. 

She hummed. “Of course. He just wanted to know if I wanted to grab dinner with him, but I told him I’ve got plans with you-”

“No- no- you should go. With him.” Spencer breathed out.

“Are you sure? I thought we were gonna order in from that Chinese place you love?”

He gave her a small shrug. “We can take a rain check. You should go, I-I wouldn’t want you to be late for dinner.”

She frowned over at him, pocketing her phone as she moved closer to him. She clasped his shoulders in her hands and pulled her to him in a hug. He tensed at the initial contact, but eventually he relaxed into her hold and wrapped his arms around her. 

“You know you can tell me anything?” She promised, her voice soft, warm. 

“I know.” His voice broke, and his throat burned with the sob he was holding back.

She pulled back, concern on her features as she hesitantly let go of him. She promised she would give him a call later that evening before leaving the apartment.

Spencer stood for a moment; eyes fixated on the door as it closed behind her. 

He wondered how he was ever going to move on from her, from the dreams of a future that was so close but just barely out of reach.

Ultimately, he wasn’t jealous of the man who got to have her. 

He was jealous of the fact that she was happy because he could only wish that he was happy too.

‘It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way

You're happy without me’

permanant taglist; @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @ssa-m-187

[peterxwade24]

Jonc de mer and Acropora

For Maribat March 2021 day 3 prompt Warmth. (If you squint hard enough).

This is part one of an I don’t know how many part fic. I hope you stick around because it’s going to be a ride.

Jonc de mer is French (I think) for Seagrass while Acropora is a type of coral (purple coral actually). Sticholodinae is a subcategory of Ladybugs that, as far as I can tell, have either no spots or one big splotch surrounded by smaller spots. The email address in this is fake, please do not send emails to it because they may get redirected to a very real person named Menene.

Of course a big thank you to @maribatmarch-2k21 for putting on the event, now lets get on with the fic.

The only thing Marinette remembers of her mother is the warmth she provided against a harsh cold. She remembers very little about her mother’s family, only that she seemed to be surrounded by purple anytime they were close. She only remembers so little because her mother, and her mother’s family, were slaughtered by the false king and she was left for dead. Thankfully, a pod of passing merpeople heard her cries and carried her to the closest shore. She tearfully waved goodbye to the pod as the surf carried her ashore.

She was taken in that day by a wonderful man, stocky in build with short brown hair and green eyes. She knew her life would change, beginning with the man renaming her. The name her mother gave her would always be what Atlanteans called her, it was as much a part of her as her purple eyes and her permanently tan skin. The man, named Tom, renamed her Marinette because she seemed to rise with the sun.

---

Marinette and Tom met Sabine in Paris, France. Sabine was a beautiful woman of Chinese descent with black hair and grey eyes. She smiled at the father-daughter duo sweetly and when Tom wasn’t within hearing range Sabine told Marinette that whomever her mother was, she was one lucky lady.

Sabine was aghast at the sight of little two year old Marinette struggling to hold herself together while she has to tell the kind lady that her mother is no longer with her.

Sabine walked right up to Tom afterwards to demand he married her right that instant so they could raise Marinette together.

They were legally married by the end of the day and Sabine had started the process to legally adopt Marinette.

---

Marinette had always felt drawn to the Seine, it is what drew her parents to purchasing a building just down the street from the river. Tom and Sabine wanted to always be close by when she had access to the river. One of them would always accompany her, needing to know she wasn’t going to get swept away in the Seine.

Marinette was five when she met him. Tom was sitting a few meters away on a nearby bench reading a newspaper.

The boy, who could only be the same age as her, had short blond hair cropped close to his head, deep brown skin and pale green eyes. His eyes reminded her of seagrass, the way they seemed to be hundreds of different shades of green all at once.

Marinette smiled, her eyes following the lines his gills left as he began treading water. “Hello.” She bowed her head in greeting and was delighted when he bowed his head in return.

“Menenne. I am Kaldur’ahm, it is a pleasure to meet you.” The boy, Kaldur’ahm, extended his hand in greeting.

Marinette simply clasped his hand and shook it in greeting, tucking away that name for later. “It is certainly a pleasure to be meeting you.”

---

They continued to meet up for years, Kaldur’ahm getting more and more comfortable around her, eventually enough so that she could introduce him to her Papa. He introduced himself as “Kaldur Durham” and Tom is hard pressed to find anything he doesn’t like about his baby girl’s new friend.

In the end the two Dupain-Cheng’s introduced Kaldur to Sabine, who simply smiled and asked if he was staying for dinner.

The Dupain-Cheng family simply gave him what he needed, time to tell them about himself and the opportunity to relax. However, Marinette continued to feel a pull to the Seine.

---

They were eleven when Kaldur, who Marinette had taken to calling Jonc de mer, told her that his mentor, Arthur Curry, was joining a conglomerate somewhere in America and that he was going with him. Kaldur held Marinette as she cried, not knowing that he was surrounding her in a familiar warmth.

The very next day, when they were saying goodbye, Marinette looped a scarf made in orchid, black, melon green and pale yellow yarn around his neck. “This will keep you safe, no matter where you go. No matter how far away you are.”

Kaldur grabbed her hands and nodded. “I will have you with me wherever I go, Acropora.”

Marinette smiled and pulled her hands away so she could quickly write something down on a scrap piece of paper. “When you get settled in America, email me.” She handed over the piece of paper and smiled as he looked over what she’d written on it.

“menenne@gmail.com ;) look me up Jonc de mer”

---

Since Tom had found her on the beach of Sicily, they took family vacations to Italy and it was on one of these family vacations that Marinette made a friend.

Marinette was eight, as was the little girl, when they met. The two were just running around and through the waves. They played for hours, just smiles and laughs passed between the two no words needed. The next day they finally introduced themselves before they continued to play.

They spent everyday together, so much time in fact that Marinette felt comfortable enough telling her about Kaldur, however whenever the duo were around someone who hadn’t been given special Marinette friendship rights, the duo referred to him as the boy with blond hair and green eyes.

---

When Marinette was eleven she finally became friends with Chloé Bourgeois. It was a few days after Kaldur had gone to America when Chloé happened across her while she was sketching something for a client.

“What are you making?” Chloé asked.

Marinette closed her sketchbook with a little more force than was strictly necessary. “It’s a commission and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t attempt to steal it.” Marinette would feel bad about being mean to Chloé later but for now all she cared about was making sure that her sketch was finished in time to present it to the client.

---

Marinette was sat next to Chloé in the classroom on the day she received her Miraculous. Chloé was being her usual bratty self when a girl who was classically pretty walked in the room and visibly stuck her nose up at Chloé.

“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.”

Marinette gave her a once over, noting her lack of sense. Why would anyone pair an orange flannel with light blue jeans and black shoes with giant tongues? Marinette let out a nearly silent “tsk” before placing her hand on her friend’s arm. “Don’t listen to her Blondie. I know you aren’t evil.”

---

Marinette debuted as Sticholodinae, although all of Paris just called her Ladybug while Chat just called her M’Lady, a day before Stoneheart. She was photographed and seen swinging over the Paris streets testing her capabilities and her limitations.

Her suit, which Tikki said was not what she was expecting because every past Ladybug’s suit was mainly red, was mostly black. While her body was encased in black fabric, it was Kevlar enforced and didn’t shimmer in the sunlight. She had what appeared to be a bulletproof vest under a thick leather jacket which was black and faded to a very dark red at the bottom hem and the cuffs at the ends of her sleeves. Her legs were reinforced with a pair of joggers which had a very dark red waistband and were tucked into a pair of black reinforced combat boots. Her suit looked segmented like a bug to the untrained eye, however she knew that her suit wasn’t segmented but actually appeared to be scaled like a fish. Her hair was pulled up and back into a bun that looked like a work of lattice on the back while her face was obscured through several methods. Her eyes were obscured by a pitch black mask with white eye lenses while she had a charcoal gray tactical half face mask covering the bottom half of her face so that all anyone could see of her face was her forehead.

She knew her suit wasn’t what most thought of when they pictured a Ladybug, but she would do whatever it took to stay safe so that she could reunite with her Jonc de mer.

[gaming-universe]

Who We Are || Russell Adler

Call of Duty Black Ops: Cold War

-PART FOUR-

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR CALL OF DUTY BLACK OPS: COLD WAR! IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED/FINISHED THE CAMPAIGN THEN PLEASE DONT READ! Gore, violence, course language, mature content.

Summary: Betrayed and alone after surviving the events that took place on the Solovetsky Islands, Y/n ‘Bell’ L/n faces new and more dangerous threats when she learns that Perseus has other plans for his failed nuclear detonation of Europe. It was only a matter of time before Y/n came face to face with her old team. There is unfinished business between Y/n and Adler, as this operation proves to be more deadly than originally thought.

Author’s Note: So, after finishing the campaign, I needed to do Bell/Player and Adler justice. I loved this game so much, and chosing to play as the female character, I felt like there was a genuine connection between Bell and Adler throughout the game. There is a tag list open for anyone that wishes to stay up to date with the series. Simply comment below. Gif by @travelllar (Girl I’m using all your gifs they are absolutely amazing)

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE|

Another day, another sleepless night.

It was 5am, the sky a light deep blue, and the last of the Soviet soldiers were leaving town. They had searched almost every square inch of this small fishing village, searching for anyone that might be harboring the ones who broke into their base. You thanked whatever god there was that they seemed to forget about Viktor’s house, which was practically veiled by the night sky on a hill below the lighthouse.

You had been awake since one that morning, watching the Soviet soldiers busy about the town like flies on a wound. As dawn broke, you sighed heavily, closing your tired eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. Your head throbbed painfully from the lack of sleep, but between your nightmares, reoccuring memories and the ruckas of the soldiers, you doubted you would have slept much at all anyway.

The door to the house opened softly, followed by light footsteps as they moved behind you to stand on your left. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, the familiar stench of cigar smoke almost made you choke. You could see Adler in your peripherals just fine, you rolled your eyes in mild annoyance. “Do you always have to wear those aviators?” You found yourself asking, as the man in question began to chuckle. You heard him sigh “No, I don’t always have to wear them”.

“Do you have to wear them at 5am in the morning?”

“I suppose not-”

“Good, because you look stupid”.

Adler laughed again, releasing a stream of smoke from his lips as he shook his head in amusement. But doing as you had somewhat suggested, Adler removed his aviators, and hooked them over one of the open buttons of his shirt. The two of you stood in silence, watching as the sky began to turn an early morning grey. Adler huffed more smoke “Did you sleep last night?” He questioned lowly, now leaning his back against the white wooden railing and turning his head towards you.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you merely shrugged. “I don’t sleep much, not anymore...” You replied smoothly, now wishing that you had never said anything to begin with. You focused your gaze forward again as Adler’s expression fell, he brought the cigar to his lips. You watched as the waves danced in the early morning sunlight, remembering what is was like to be at their mercy. Adler moved closer to your form, flinching slightly as he watched your hands clench into tight fists. You flexed your fingers with a small wince, a sense of pride washing over you as you examined your bruised knuckles.

“How is your jaw?”

“Fucking sore, but thanks for asking”.

You laughed. A soft, genuine laugh as you finally turned to meet Adler’s gaze. His blue hues stared down into your (eye/colour) eyes with a mixture of emotions. His lips parted slightly as he went to speak, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I know you hate me, for everything I have done to you. Nothing I do will ever make up for the amount of shit I have put you through, but you have no idea how hard it was for me to do what I had to do...” He began, his grip on his cigar tightening. “I didn’t want to kill you, I really didn’t. But Park convinced me that killing you was better than the other option-”.

“And what would the other option have been?” You interrupted, folding your arms over your chest. Adler’s jaw clenched, “Letting you go through life not knowing who you were”. You scoffed loudly, stepping away from the taller man before you as you shook your head in disbelief. “She really convinced you that killing me was better than that!? Sure, I might not have ever figured out who I was before, but what was it you said to me after Cuba? ‘The CIA re-invented me’. I could have started a new life, Adler, and you fucking took that away from me” You growled, your eyes narrowing dangerously as you practically seethed with anger.

You paused for a moment to breathe, brushing stray strands of hair from your face as the wind blew in. There was so much more you wanted to say to him, so much you wanted to curse him for.

“Last night you asked me if I regretted it. If I regretted shooting you that day...” Adler spoke softly, almost painfully as his eyes suddenly became a darker shade of blue. “I regretted it, every single goddamned day afterward. And do you want to know why? Because a part of me hoped that you were alive. After you fell I...I hoped to god that you would resurface, that you would have survived that fall. But as the days went by, I realised you weren’t coming back, and that affected me, Y/n, it really did. When Woods and Mason found heard about what I did, they left, and you have no idea how pissed off Hudson was when he found out-”

“I would say just as pissed off as when he discovered that I was the Perseus Agent willing to defect and help the CIA take him down”.

Adler froze, his eyes widening significantly. For the first time in what you assumed was a long time, Adler was speechless. He stared at you completely dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for something to say. “I...w-what are you-”

“A few days before the whole incident at the airstrip, I sent an enrypted message to the CIA, telling them that I was willing to cooperate and answer any questions they might have had in regards to Perseus in exchange for asylum. I guess my message didn’t reach you in time-”

“But, if you were...” Adler trailed off, once again trying to make sense of things “Why didn’t you tell us? When we found you-”

“Things got a lot more complicated when Arash shot me, I think defecting was the last thing on my mind as I lay bleeding out in that car” You finished explaining, shivering slightly at the cool breeze. Adler hadn’t said a word since you finished your long explaination. He paced back and forth, running a hand along the back of his neck as he sighed heavily. You felt yourself tremble as his gaze focused on your form, he looked at you differently.

He looked at you the same way Mason had before Cuba, with pity, sadness, and empathy. “Y/n I...I’m so sorry, if I-” “Don’t apologise...” You interrupted, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly “I’m not mad about that. Actually, I am, but that isn’t the main issue”. Adler nodded, trying to regain his composure with a long draw of his cigar. You buried your hands beneath your arms, not wanting the man before you to notice their trembling. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze back out to sea “Did you want to talk about last night, or did you want to wait for Woods and Mason?” You asked, trying to hide the slight shakiness of your voice.

You heard Adler sigh, “Y/n, I have to call Hudson. He needs to hear everything from us, and he will no doubt want to hear everything from you”.

Your blood turned to ice, a cold shiver running down your spine at his words. Call Hudson? You felt your stomach churn uneasily, you swallowed thickly and nervously. There was no way of telling how Hudson would react, how he would-

“Y/n...” Adler spoke softly, now standing before you with his eyes searching your distant expression for anything. Something that would give him an insight into what was going on in that head of yours. You turned to face him, looking up at him sadly. “You do what you need to do. But I just-”

“I know, I’ll take care of it. You can trust me-”

“Can I? Can I trust you?”

When Adler’s expression fell, you felt a strange sense of guilt consume you. You didn’t mean to be so hesitant toward him, you didn’t mean to be careful with who you trusted. But after everything that had been done to you...after everything that had happened...

You froze as Adler moved to step around you, your body becoming rigid as something warm was draped over your shoulders. It was then that you realised you had been shaking violently, and that Adler had given you his beloved brown leather jacket. You quickly spun around to face him, managing to catch the fleeting smile he gave you. Then you knew.

Adler understood. He understood where you were coming from. That you needed time to trust him again. “Like you said last night...” He began softly, giving you a barely there smile “no more lies, no more bullshit. Take things in your own time, but I want that jacket back, got it?”. With that being said, Adler turned slowly and made his way back inside, leaving you alone on the wooden terrace. When you were sure he was gone, you wrapped Adler’s jacket around your form tightly and collapsed to your knees, crying softly as strange, compassionate feelings overtook your worry, anxiety and guilt.

When you had calmed down, you leaned back against the wooden railing, letting your head rest against the wooden slats as you breathed deeply. You tried to ignore the scent of Adler’s jacket filling your nose, a mixture of old leather combined with cigar smoke and some kind of cologne.

As the sun began to peak through the grey clouds blanketing the islands, you decided that it was best for you to head inside. You still had the matters of last night to discuss, as well as the oh so joyous anticipation of waiting for Hudson to arrive.

After changing into more comfortable and warmer clothes, you begrudgingly gave Adler back his jacket, giving him a warm smile in thanks before disappearing into the living room. 

Woods and Mason were playing poker with Viktor, and losing horribly. “How the fuck did you manage to get another royal flush?” Woods complained, this his cards down atop the coffee table with an annoyed groan “I swear you’ve rigged the damn thing”. Viktor chuckled, gathering his winnings with a sly wink in your direction as you passed. “When you have played this game for as long as I have, you learn all the tricks of the trade” He responded, as Woods threw his hands out in exasperation.

You watched on from the far wall, grinning as Mason caught your gaze. He waved you over “Hey Y/n, did you want to join us?” He asked, to which you shook you head with an amused scoff. “No thanks, I would like to keep my money-” “Wuss...” Woods teased “I’ll play for you” “No, I’m good thank you, but I appreciate the offer”.

Woods groaned again as Mason laughed, while Viktor practically bled them both dry. Adler emerged from the kitchen, moving to stand by your side. “Adler, lend me some money, I need beat this old man at least once!” Woods exclaimed, gesturing towards Viktor with an extended hand. Adler shook his head “No, I’m not doing that” He replied, glaring at Woods’ obscene gesture thrown in his direction. You chuckled quietly, looking up at the man beside you with a small shrug. “How did you go?” You asked, not liking the way his gaze fell. He huffed “Hudson has a few things to take care of in Washington before he gets here, but he plans on arriving sometime tonight”.

“Well, I guess we can’t really do anything until we inform him of what is going on then?”.

“We can prepare what we are going to say? Combine our knowledge”.

You nodded hesitantly “I really don’t know much. But whatever those soldiers were doing up there is in relation to something called Operation Hyrda”. The entire living room fell silent, as all eyes now focused on you. “Operation Hydra? What the hell is that?” Mason asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion. You sighed “From what I’ve remembered, Operation Hydra is a failsafe for Operation Greenlight. Reading that name back in that bunker triggered something. All I know so far, is that Perseus and I are the only ones who know of the failsafe”.

“And because we brainwashed you, you can’t remember what this Operation Hyrda entails” Adler interrupted, his eyes remaining trained on your smaller form. You nodded as Adler cursed, cringing at his dangerous tone “I’m trying to remember, if that helps-”

“I know you are, we’ll figure it out” Adler spoke distantly, before once again disappearing back into the kitchen. You sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose with a groan. If only you could remember something, even if it was small. Every little detail counted right? A gentle hand was placed on your shoulder, causing you to flinch as your eyes lifted to meet the warm expression of Mason. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about this...” He soothed “it’s not your fault you can’t remember”.

“I know, but knowing that I’m missing something important is just...” You paused, breathing deeply in through your nose and out through your mouth “I feel so fucking useless”.

“You might feel like that now, but it won’t always be like this...” Woods spoke solemnly from his position on the couch. “Sure, it might take you a while to remember things, but you will get there. Just don’t be so hard on yourself, alright?”. You nodded slowly, allowing his words to sink in. Though Woods did have a point, you couldn’t help but feel like a burden to the team.

As your lips parted to respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Your head tilted to the side in confusion, your gaze meeting Woods and Masons’ who wore similar expressions. Adler emerged from the kitchen, carefully moving past you and Mason towards the front of the door. You waited anxiously as two voices echoed down into the living room. As footsteps approached, your body became rigid as Adler moved past you to stand on the other side of the room, followed by a woman you knew all too well.

Her midnight hair was slightly longer, but her brown eyes widened upon landing on your form before her expression hardened. All you could do was glare at Park, as she stood in the doorway to the living room.

Tag List: @pookolokon @travelllar @basicwhiteasian @shellshockedbell @inteligentecat @staryozora @lovinggooppalacebanana @ktdragonborn @quietblogs-2-rd @cerezi @alluringartangels​

[heytherejulietx]

Soulmates; Him (1/3)

Soulmates masterlist.

Read on AO3 here.

Notes - It’s finally out!!! I know it took me a while but I’m so happy to get the first part started I’m really happy with how this turned out. Please let me know what you think!

Warnings - None.

Word count - 2.1k.

Riverdale tag list - @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @kpopgirlbtssvt @booksmusicteaandanimals @happy-puff @teenloves @cheryllclayton @jesso80 @dietbreadloaf @thebluetint @hppygmc8 @lilireinhartsimp @camiczzzz @bitchy-broken (it won’t let me tag some of your names I’m sorry, if I’m spelling your url wrong please let me know).

To join my tag list fill out this form.

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The glass felt cold underneath the pad of her finger as she drew a smiley face in the condensation that formed from the cold strawberry milkshake in it’s contents. The milkshake was the same shade as the jumper she was wearing and it made her smile slightly. Her mother had said that the jumper she was wearing was pink, so was the milkshake the same colour? Betty glanced around the diner she’d been sat in for almost five minutes and tried to pick out other items that were the same shade. Other people’s drinks, the napkins on her table, the shirt that Dilton Doiley was wearing in a booth down the row from hers. Could they all be the same colour? Hopefully, Betty thought to herself, she would find out later that day, as it was her seventeenth birthday.

Seventeen was a big age, probably the biggest birthday anybody could have. From your seventeenth birthday, you could find your soulmate. There was no missing who it was, when you laid eyes on them the usually black and white world would suddenly turn into bright colours - how things were supposed to be seen. Some people were lucky enough to meet their soulmate on their birthday, some spent years searching for theirs, and an unlucky few spent their whole life in black and white.

Betty Cooper was both excited and unhappy on her seventeenth birthday. Of course being able to find her soulmate was exciting, but the person who she thought it would be had already had their birthday, and still hadn’t found their soulmate. Which meant it wasn’t her. Jughead still saw black and white which meant it was someone else. Maybe it was wrong to have a crush on him as she knew it could never work out, but she was still a little disappointed.

Jughead had been her best friend for years, and they were practically inseparable. When Betty and Jughead were children and had to learn about soulmates for the first time, everything sounded so familiar to her. The way that a connection with a soulmate was described, sounded like what she had with Jughead. Betty could remember bouncing in her seat excitedly as she gently grabbed his arm, a huge grin painted over her lips as she told him ”we’re soulmates, Juggie!”. Looking back on their friendship, now that she was seventeen, it really did seem like Jughead was her soulmate. Maybe it was just what Betty wanted to believe, blinded by her crush on him, but it really felt like they were. Betty felt different when she was with Jughead, different like nobody else could make her. They connected so well and went together as a matching set, like their souls were crafted together. His touch sent butterflies exploding through her body and his words could send chills down her spine, in the best way possible.

But he wasn’t her soulmate. He was somebody else’s.

Just as she was thinking of her best friend, two larger hands covered her eyes so she couldn’t see, and initially she gasped in surprise, though upon realising who it was Betty smiled fondly and gently bit her bottom lip for a moment. She could feel his slightly calloused fingertips pressing into the bridge of her nose and felt the cold metal of one of his rings along her cheekbone which caused her to smile a little more. Bety had always been a fan of Jughead’s rings. He would let her sit and gently mess with his fingers sometimes if they sat together, and she always found herself gently twisting his rings around his fingers.

“Guess who?”

“Veronica?” Betty asked jokingly, and giggled quietly when she felt his huff of faux annoyance hit the back of her head, pushing forwards her - for once - loose blonde strands slightly with the breath.

“Happy birthday,” He told her and Betty smiled a little more. “I have a surprise for you, but you need to promise me you won’t freak out, okay?”

Betty frowned a little, puzzled on what he could have gotten her that would make her freak out. “Jug, if you got me another one of those fake bug tricks to scare me it’s not funny-”

“No, no I haven’t gotten you one of those.” Jughead scoffed, and she could practically hear his eyes rolling as he spoke. “I just need you to promise me you won’t freak out.”

“Okay, Jug, I promise.” Betty smiled and nodded her head a little, as much as she could with his hands still covering her eyes.

Jughead’s hands were still covering her eyes for another moment, almost like he was hesitating, before he pulled them away and she heard him step backwards on the tiled floor. Betty blinked for a moment to adjust her eyes to the light of the room now that she could see before she stood up and turned to face Jughead with a smile. Her eyes met his and she saw-

Blue.

Betty’s eyes widened as her heart started hammering in her chest, her sight almost smacking her in the face as she watched as vibrant and new colours bled into everything she could see. She watched in shock as his jacket turned into a checkered red and black that she could only have guessed about its colours before. Navy blues faded into his shirt as his skin faded from it’s usual grey into a warm olive tone that caused her to swallow harshly. Betty hadn’t even looked anywhere else in the room yet. She was just looking at him. Betty had always imagined seeing colours for the first time to be a magical moment. She had imagined turning in a circle and watching as colours blended into anything and everything around her. But Betty wasn’t focused on anything else but Jughead. He was beautiful.

As all of the colours blended into her sight and the plain black and white faded away, at first she hadn’t thought of what it meant. But after a moment she felt a burning along her waterline as her bottom lip trembled, her emotions crashing into her almost as hard as the colours had just done.

It was him.

Jughead was her soulmate.

Jughead, her best friend. The person who had been there for her more than anyone else. The boy who was there the first time she rode her bike without training wheels. The boy who had offered to be her date to her first school dance when Archie had gone with a cheerleader. The boy who she had been falling deeper and deeper in love with for what felt like forever. It had been him all along. The thought alone made her giddy, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if her legs gave out there and then.

“Betty,” Jughead visibly swallowed. Betty had never seen him so nervous in her life. “Surprise.” He smiled sheepishly, his lips curving upwards in the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.

It took Betty a moment to even just remember how to move, but once she could her lips curved upwards into a bright and emotional smile as she closed the few feet between them and flung herself at him, tears spilling down her cheeks as she held onto him. Jughead’s arms secured around her waist and kept her held close to him as she started crying, not able to control the overflow of emotions.

“Oh my god,” Betty whispered, just holding onto Jughead tighter, almost as if he would disappear if she were to let go. It was unbelievable, now that she thought about it. Jughead had told her that he hadn’t seen his soulmate before, so how could she be his? “You- you said you hadn’t- we-”

“Betty slow down,” Jughead stopped her rambling with his hands resting on either side of her face which he used to gently pull her back so he could look at her. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to find out yourself.” He smiled fondly as he ran his thumb along her cheekbone, causing Betty to relax slightly as she leaned into his hand. “You’d always spoken about how magical it would be to find out who your soulmate was on your birthday, and it would kind of ruin the surprise if you knew who it was.”

Betty’s smile only widened at his words, a soft expression masking her features. He had waited months to tell her so she could experience everything herself. It meant more to her than he probably thought, that he was willing to let himself wait until she knew herself. It made warmth spread through her chest to know just how much he cared about her and her happiness. Nobody had ever cared about her as much as Jughead, not even Veronica - although her best girl friend was a close contender behind him. Standing in front of him then, standing close enough to notice just how blue his eyes were and how the freckles on his nose dotted about, everything felt right. She was sure about her feelings towards Jughead, and now that she knew he had the same ones it almost made her start crying again. It was a lot to take in - but it was good.

Without even thinking about it Betty lifted her own hands up to grip the fur lining of his collar and she tugged him closer, impossibly closer, until her nose was pressed to his and she could feel his breath shake as it fanned out across her face. Her eyes fluttered closed and she could hear Jughead whisper her name, quiet enough for her to doubt whether he had actually spoken or not, before she leaned the rest of the way and closed the gap between them to press her lips against his.

Her mind spun into overdrive as soon as he had pulled her closer with a hand on the side of her neck, and in that moment her legs almost did give out. She was kissing Jughead. She was doing the one thing she had believed would never happen over the past few months, no matter how much she wanted to. Butterflies swarmed around her stomach and she could feel a blush rising to her cheeks though she didn’t care at all. She was kissing Jughead.

All of the air seemed to leave her lungs as he pulled away, as if he had stolen it from her through the kiss. Betty smiled almost giddily as her eyes fluttered open to look at him again. His expression wasn’t so different from hers as she felt his hand move back to her cheek, and she had to refrain from kissing him again as the pad of his thumb circled her pink cheek again.

“I love you, Betty.” Jughead whispered, and Betty’s heart almost stopped.

It took her a moment to even comprehend what he had said, lost in the blue eyes she couldn’t look away from, though her smile grew even wider than before as she lightly kissed him again for another moment before she pulled away to whisper four words.

“I love you too.”

Jughead’s expression lit up just as her’s had done a moment before and she couldn’t help but stare. He was so gorgeous, especially when he smiled. Just the sight of him took her breath away. Though her eyes closed as she felt his arms pull her into a hug and she relaxed into him as she hugged him back gently. Jughead had hugged her many times before, though none felt as perfect as that one. It was warm and welcoming and loving.

“You didn’t have to wait to tell me, you know.” Betty whispered into his shoulder, her eyes fluttering when he had lifted his hand to gently run his fingers through her hair.

“I know, but I wanted it to be special for you.”

Betty smiled fondly and nodded, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his jacket as she smiled. “Is that why you were acting so weird on your birthday?” She could remember it clearly, how he was constantly zoning out in conversation and was distracted the whole time. At first she had assumed it was just because he didn’t like his birthday, but this made more sense.

“Yeah,” Jughead whispered and nodded. “It was a weird day.”

[commanderserwin]

someone.

↦ pairing(s): armin arlert x reader

↦ word count: 1.9k

↦ requested by @ddeonghwaaa:

hii i saw that your requests were open and i wanted to make a request! could i request a first date with Armin?(if you do him, if not Erens fine!)

��� author’s note(s): my first for armin! i hope you like it!! thank you for this!

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Armin often daydreams about the times he has ever spent with his crush. 

He didn’t even know when it started, when he always found his way towards you, enjoying every second spent with. Maybe it was the feeling of having someone look after him, not the way his parent does, but as someone. Someone who makes him want to wake up, just thinking of what are the possibilities of today to make memories. Someone who he wants to be close with. Someone who he wants to smile with. Laugh with. 

Someone who he wants to be called their other half. 

Maybe not that eager or quick, but someone... and that someone is you. 

He often thinks about asking you out. To a little date but he’d be too nervous to actually make a move, because what if you refuse? Then what face does he show the next day when the rejection stays right in his mind? Would the relationship between you two would float away? Vanish into thin air? He doesn’t want to take that risk, but something inside him makes him want to do it. 

He wants to experience yearning. Appreciation. Love.

But it was a maybe. He hasn’t even had his first date. 

With you? Unsure. Because he doesn’t want to risk the friendship over the course of years. No, no, no. 

Not until Eren and Mikasa grabbed Armin by his hands, and sat him down. 

“Just ask her out!”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?!”

“Because!” 

“Why are you all whispering?”

Armin, Eren, and Mikasa was hunched together on the table, shoulders slouched as they corner Armin to his seat. All three of them turned around slowly, their eyes moving to where you were currently standing while holding the tray on your hand for dinner. 

“Nothing!” Armin turned beet-red, clearing his throat as he stood up. “I’ll go get... dinner.” 

“No!” Eren gushed, eyeing Mikasa as Eren stood up, placing a hand on Armin’s shoulder. “Mikasa and I will get it. Stay here.” 

“I could come-!”

Armin clasped his hands on the table and sat up a little straighter as you took your sit always next to him. You took note of his blushed neck, as you leaned in closer, nudging his shoulder with yours. Armin’s heart is thumping louder than usual, taking his time to turn to you. 

“Is everything all right?” You asked, satisfied now that you’ve got his attention. 

“Of course!” Armin blurted, rubbing the back of his neck, “Why would you think that?”

You turned to look at him. Armin’s still busy looking ahead, his eyes never meeting yours for the first time. 

“Armin,”

“Yes?”

He still didn’t look. Well he did turn his head, but his eyes were focused behind your head for a quick second. Then he’s gone to look away. 

You feel stumped. Armin’s never been like this to you. Sure, he is secretive sometimes, quiet and always thinking but you just feel stumped and disappointed that he’s yet kept a thought that is clearly bothering him. All you want to do is lift some of his problems off of his shoulders, help him, because that’s what friends are for. He has helped you through tough times and you just wanted to reciprocate it. 

“Nevermind,” you mustered a smile, continuing to eat your dinner. 

Armin whipped his head towards you, familiar with all the tones of your voice. Oh, this is bad, he thought. What am I going to do?

“It isn’t what you think it is!” 

“You don’t have to explain, Armin,” you began, still feeling a little down. “It’s okay.”

“No!” Armin sighed deeply, palming his eyes as he leaned on the table. His mind is running with how this is badly unfolding right here. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He wasn’t supposed to ask you out this way! Armin looked around, looking out for Eren and Mikasa but they weren’t anywhere close. He took a deep breath, knowing that he has to do this alone. But Armin is just so nervous, and so not thinking straight-, “Would you like to go out with me?” 

You choked. 

You coughed real loud, holding out your throat and blindly accepting the mug Armin has handed you, his hand soothing your back as you coughed. You chugged the water, embarrassment slowly downing as you felt the liquid drip into your skin, as well as Armin’s words into your head. 

“I shouldn’t asked that,” Armin quickly said, handing you his mug, and urging you to drink, “I... It’s not... I shouldn’t.” 

You breathed deeply, turning red. Would you like to go out with me?

“No-,” you started, holding out to your chest, gasping for breath. Everybody was looking at you, including Armin. 

It was like whiplash. 

“No?”

“No!” You breathed, holding on to Armin’s forearm. You have finally calmed down and you couldn’t help but smile, his words repeating throughout. “No, you want to go out with me?” 

“On a date,” he shyly added. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?” 

“Armin,” you sighed, happily. 

“You don’t have to say yes-,”

“Armin,”

“It’s fine! It’s just a question-,”

“Armin,”

“Really! Just don’t mind the question-,”

“Can you shut up?”

Armin stopped talking. He peeked at the corner of his eyes, his heart thumping in frenzy as he watched you perk up. Your own heart was beating hard as well, his question opening up a part that you have closed. You didn’t know what he was interested in you, and it just made you feel nervous, and anxious, and confused- but then you felt shy and giddy that he asked you. Armin asked. 

“Yes,” you whispered, looking up at him as he blushed hard again. “I’d love to go out on a date with you.” 

Armin nodded, his smile widening, delighted that you accepted. But his thoughts turned grey, because he has no idea on what to do on a first date. 

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Tomorrow. The date is tomorrow. After dinner. 

Armin is sitting on the floor, against the wall, with his legs folded to his chest. Eren sat across him, watching his bestfriend quietly panic. Armin kept mumbling in place, looking down at his feet, then to his closet, then at the door. A cycle- then he sighed loudly and deep. 

"What am I going to wear?" He asked himself, eyes going back to his feet and closet. 

"What are we going to eat?" He asked again, looking at Eren with questioning eyes- looking for an answer. 

Eren couldn't help but panic because he has no idea. Armin groaned loudly, holding his head. He looked straight ahead and at Eren, "I will just tell her that it's not happening."

"Armin, don't," Eren stopped him from getting up. "We'll figure something out."

"I can't cook!" 

"Armin," Eren looked straight into his eyes, "How about we ask the cook for something? It'll be good." 

"Okay," Armin pondered on the idea, but he was stumped again. "What food?" 

"Okay," Eren sighed, "What does she like?" 

Armin took a deep breath, racking his brain for ideas. What did you like during the visit to the District? There must be something. All he could remember is how close you were to him, holding the sleeve of his jacket, as you kept close to him. He tried to hide his smile underneath his hood, standing up a little straighter when he felt you tug him closer. Or when your hands brush, and he didn't miss the way your cheeks reddened by the subtle touch. Or when he would ride his horse closer during expeditions. Or the last looks both of you will exchange when it’s time to use the gears. It was all there. 

He wasn’t that physical in showing his affection, but he was there and he tried. 

You wouldn’t miss the way he’d offer you a blanket, or a saved piece of sweets, or insist that you drink last from his jug. It was all there and you assumed that that’s what friends are for. But when you finally looked at him, looked, he’d be wearing the same shade of red on his cheeks, just like you did. 

“I know what to get her.” 

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Today is the day. The first date.

Armin waited by the mess hall after everybody has exited. He has also pushed Eren and Mikasa when they told Armin they’d be hanging out at the hallway. So now, after getting rid of his best-friends, he’s alone in the massive mess hall with a bouquet of daises he’s found outside and a little box of pastry that he’s snuck in from the District- or else Eren, Mikasa, and everybody else would just ask for a bite. 

You were so nervous. This was also your first date with anybody and the thought of being Armin your first date made the butterflies in your stomach burst, your hands clammy, and the blood pumping inside echoed as you took quick and even breaths. Mikasa ushered you out, while Eren stayed by the door of your room. 

Armin waited, and waited, and waited until he looked at the hallway where you stood staring at him. He stood up quickly, waving his hand, and beating himself up inside as to why he did that. 

“Hey,” Armin greeted. He found himself smiling when you accepted the flowers from his hands, “For you.” 

“Thank you!” You smiled, holding them close, “They’re beautiful.”

“I just picked them outside,” he whispered, taking a sit which you followed. 

“Ah,” you sighed, looking at the familiar flowers from outside, yet they look even prettier now, “Still... thank you, Armin.” 

You took a sit, gasping loudly as you saw the familiar box on the table. You looked at Armin, gushing, and back at the box. He grinned, watching you turn the box over with the written print from your favorite bakery. 

“Tell me you didn’t!” 

“I know you love those,” Armin said, taking off of the ribbon around it. He finally opened it, showing little milk pastry bites with subtle swirls of chocolate on top. 

You couldn’t believe it. “How could you remember,” you marvelled, turning the box to look at the bites. “I only told you about it once, and years ago.” 

Armin shook his head, keeping in his blush as he pushed the box towards you. “I remembered. You told me they were your favorite since your parents buy it for you. All the time.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking back at Armin. It’s been a while since you’ve tasted these. All back those years in the District as you tugged Armin once to the bakery, but you were heartbroken when they run out. “I still couldn’t believe you remember it.” 

“Go on,” Armin nodded. He watched you hesitantly get one, and his heart swelled when you handed him one first. 

Both of you happily munched on the pastries, occasionally standing up to fetch water for each other, until both of you retreated to the kitchen, sitting on the countertops, legs dangling and softly laughing to not disturb anybody. 

It felt like the usual conversations, but there was something more alive, both of you never wanting to let it rest. Armin animatedly talked about his favorite book that he found from his grandfather, describing the pictures, and reciting the words straight from the heart as he described them. 

Listening wholeheartedly, you envisioned all the things he has said, leaning in closely on his shoulder, until you’ve placed it there. He spoke a little softer, looking down at you, finishing his words on quieter note, until both of you shared a quiet sigh. 

“Are you sleepy?” He whispered, his hand hovering, and finally found the courage to touch the tucked hair behind your ear. 

“No,” you looked up, glancing at his eyes. You wrapped an arm around his, your fingers on his forearm. Armin smiled softly, when you tugged on his sleeve. “No, I like hearing you talk.”

“Oh, but,” Armin cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. “I... sorry, I have been talking all night-,”

“Don’t,” you whispered. 

“What do you want to do then?”

You closed your eyes, finding his fingers until you held on to them. He was grateful that you have your eyes closed because he was madly embarrassed and blushing like mad when he finally was able to close his fingers around yours. You snuggled in closer, as close as it can get, when you felt him lay his head on top of yours. 

“Just this.”

[kyber-crystal]

pop the question || s.r.

summary: steve goes to his old love to ask her for advice on making the most important decision of his life. 

words: ~2.5k

warnings: really nothing, just fluff and cheesy steve as always :)

a/n: this was an old oneshot and it’s poorly written i’m so sorry. post civil war au where everyone is happy and peggy is still alive hehehehe let’s keep in mind this is unedited so there’s a lot of errors. 

Upon hearing that your boyfriend was going to go visit Peggy, you immediately jumped at the opportunity and begged him to let you tag along. Hearing countless stories about the fearless woman who helped found the very organization that you had been a part of for so long made you want to see her in person. So after several days of convincing, he finally caved in and allowed you to come with him.

The room she was staying in was brightly lit and minimalistic, mostly uncluttered with the only thing on the wall being a framed black-and-white photo of her back in the 40's. A grey-haired woman lay peacefully in the middle of the bed and as you took a step forward, she stirred slightly and for a moment you were afraid you'd woken her up in the middle of her sleep.

Her eyes opened and a bright smile lit up her face, softening immediately upon seeing the two of you side by side. "Oh, do come in...And who is this beautiful lady you've brought along with you, Steve?"

"I'm Y/N. Former SHIELD agent, currently an Avenger," you explained as you made your way over to her. She reached out and gave your hand a quick squeeze, returning your warm smile. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"And I've heard plenty about you as well," she replied kindly, "You're even lovelier in person."

You laughed nervously and rubbed the back of your neck. "I don't think so."

"I've always wanted to get to know the woman he's fallen so hopelessly in love with."

"Peggy..." Steve felt his cheeks heat up at her statement. "stop, you're embarrassing me—"

"I can tell why he chose you," Peggy smiled, "He's a good man...I know he loves you more than anything."

"Actually, I beg to differ, he loves Bucky more than me," you raised an eyebrow in suspicion at the super-soldier. "He wouldn't pay attention to me after he got roped into an Uno deathmatch last night."

"Classic Rogers," she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief as he pulled up a chair to sit next to you, by her bedside, "a true child at heart. I see you haven't changed much over the years."

Steve took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together and soothingly rubbing circles across your palm with his thumb. Peggy noticed the softened look in his eyes when he glanced over at you and you felt your face grow warm.

"So how long have you been together for?"

"Almost two years," Steve replied, with a light pink shade tinting his cheeks. "Our second anniversary will be on..."

"May 20th. Two weeks from now," you finished his sentence.

"That's wonderful," Peggy laughed again, "I wish you two the best in your relationship."

"You're too kind," you thanked her, "I've been a huge fan of yours for so long."

"And I, you. He always talks about you every time he visits. He never shuts up about you, so I was dying to meet you from the moment he first mentioned your name."

"What did he say?" you looked over at your boyfriend to see that he was now flushing a bright tomato red, much to both yours and her amusement. "It was all good things, I assume?"

"Of course. He tells me he's never been this happy in his life until he met you...I honestly couldn’t be more proud."

"Aww, Steve," you nudged him in the side as he grew an even deeper shade of red, "you're so sweet."

"He is a hopeless romantic," she added on. "Captain America is great with the ladies."

"Peggy!" Steve exclaimed.

"Aw, you're making him blush," you giggled.

"He is the easily flustered type, if I'm being completely honest with myself here, though one might not see that right away when they first meet him," she agreed, but then her face fell. "Y/N, would you be a dear and get me a glass of water and some yogurt from the cafeteria? You just have to head straight down the hall, then turn right. You'll know it when you see it."

"Yeah, of course," you nodded as you stood up. "Just a minute."

Once you were out of earshot, Peggy gestured for Steve to come closer so he could hear her speak better.

"I'm glad you found a woman like her to stick by your side," she said quietly, "All these years, I waited for you, and I was completely, utterly heartbroken at the idea of not being with you ever again. But after hearing you talk about her frequently and seeing your face light up every time her name was mentioned...I didn't want to take that away from you. You're still that good man with heart from Brooklyn I met so long ago, Steve, and I hope you'll continue to treat her well. She’s a real keeper. Promise me you'll keep her close."

"I will," he promised, reaching over to gently squeeze her hand. "I love her more than anything, and there's nothing I wouldn't do to make her happy."

"Good," she nodded with a smile, "you make the perfect pair with her."

After you returned with Peggy's yogurt and water, you stayed for about an hour and a half longer before a buzzing sound from your phone indicated a new text message.

Natasha: Hey, love. I'm in the parking lot right now, where do you want to go for lunch? I kicked Bucky out before he dragged us to shawarma for the third time this week, so it's your pick today. Thank me later.

You: I'll be out in a sec. Meet you outside.

Natasha: See you in a bit.

You looked back up at Peggy after sliding your phone in your purse, giving her an apologetic look. "I'm afraid I have to go now. I have a lunch date. Natasha doesn't like to be kept waiting, especially when there's food on the line."

"It's okay," she reassured you as you stood up and shook her hand again. "It was absolutely wonderful meeting you. I hope you can come and visit again soon."

"Of course."

After exchanging one last round of goodbyes with her and Steve, you slung your purse over your shoulder and pushed the doors open to head outside, where Natasha was awaiting you in Tony's Audi.

"Hey, girlfriend," Natasha sent you a flirty wink and wave. "Get in."

You slid into the passenger's seat, buckling on your seatbelt as she stepped on the gas pedal. "Hey."

"So, how'd it go?"

"It was pretty nice. She seemed to ship it pretty eagerly," you chuckled. "Oh, also, Thai food."

"Got it." She typed in the directions to the restaurant into the GPS. "That's cute, having another person who's an avid shipper of Y/N x Steve. You guys have any plans for your anniversary?"

You shook your head, "I have no idea. Usually, it's him who makes the move and goes all out for the night, but I'm not sure what either of us have in mind this year."

Oh, he definitely had something in mind.

There was a burning question sitting in the back of his head and had been doing so for as long as he could remember. Right as he was prepared to leave half an hour later, he decided to ask Peggy and get it off his chest.

"Could I ask you something important?"

"Of course."

"I, uh..." he fiddled with his thumbs nervously for a few seconds before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a tiny, cubic box encasing a gorgeous diamond ring inside. "Because our anniversary is coming up soon...I wanted to pop the question. How should I do it?"

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Peggy clasped her hands together excitedly. "Well...I'd suggest you go over-the-top for this occasion, it's a big, life-changing moment so why not? Don't be afraid to go all out, be romantic."

"What should I do, then?"

"Hmm. What are some things she enjoys?"

"Laser tag, crushing her opponents and beating them to a pulp in fights, Tom Cruise, Italian food, and Taylor Swift. She’s a popular pop singer these days."

"Ah, I see," she laughed, "She's a woman who enjoys variety."

"Exactly."

"A nice candlelit dinner would help set the mood very well, but if you're not wanting to pop the question in front of a crowd, you could always set that dinner up at home. Are any of you good cooks?"

"Bruce makes good pasta, and Vision's the baker of the compound."

"Back when my husband and I were still dating, he'd always surprise me with nice little fancy dinners at home. I believe that is the way to a girl's heart; sometimes you do not need to be extravagant to win her over. And you said she likes Taylor Swift, yes?”

“Yeah...”

“Take her to a concert! I heard from my niece that she’s in town right around the time of your anniversary...so you’re in luck. Get tickets, and take her there.”

"Thank you so much, Peggy. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anytime, Steve."

...

"So," Natasha spoke up as you were on your way back to the compound after lunch, "it's been two years since you finally got off your asses and admitted you were in love with each other, how do you feel?"

"I honestly don't know," you shrugged, "but I guess I have you to thank, right?"

"Damn right you do," she smirked, "I've been rooting for you two since we were called in to take down SHIELD, and I started suspecting things during the Battle of New York."

"That was three years ago! And New York was five!"

"I know!"

You let out a long sigh, a wistful look appearing on your face. "I wish Mom and Dad were here to see where I am right now. You know, they always pushed me to get back into the dating game once I got over my nasty breakup in college...before I got my level 8 SHIELD promotion."

"Didn't they always tell you that they wished you'd date Cap?"

"They did, actually," you chuckled, "and here I am now. Their dream has become my reality."

"I always loved your mom. Remember when we were having dinner at their house? She snuck me extra cookies under the table. Being your best friend for over six years has its perks, you know."

"And she'd fangirl over Thor."

"Ho, boy. Yup," she shook her head as she thought back to that chaotic family dinner.

Two weeks went by in a flash, and before you knew it, it was the day of yours and Steve's anniversary. Strangely enough you'd been prevented from seeing him all day, with the team making extra efforts to keep you separated.

After a fancy home-cooked dinner, you found yourselves curled up together on the couch as you absentmindedly watched Tangled - one of your favorite Disney movies of all time. Your head was resting on Steve’s broad shoulder as he traced patterns on your arm, feeling his breath gently  fanning over your head. 

But partway through the movie, you noticed he seemed to be fidgeting a bit as well, glancing between you and his pockets frequently.

"Hey," you placed a gentle hand on top of his, still staring ahead, "are you okay?"

"Huh? What? Yeah, I'm fine," he blinked a couple times before snapping out of his daze.

"Okay..."

Several more minutes passed in silence before he decided to speak up again. “...If I recall, you’re into Taylor Swift.”

“Oh yeah! Why do you ask?”

“An insider told me she’s going to be in Brooklyn this weekend for a throwback tour. I managed to snag last-minute tickets for the two of us...what do you say?”

“YES,” you practically squealed, jumping out of your seat and throwing your arms around him. “You’re the best! I love you.”

“I know, darling, I love you too,” he laughed, one hand rubbing your back as the other was absentmindedly fiddling with the box in his pocket. You blew it, Rogers...

...

You were nearly bombarded by paparazzi as soon as you stepped out of your Audi with Steve by your side, reporters flooding your path. The guards at the main entrance were quick to notice, however, and led you aside so you could enter through a different route. 

“This feels so surreal,” your voice echoed across the walls as you made your way down the hall hand-in-hand. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment ever since I was a kid.”

“I’m glad I was able to make that dream come to life.”

“This is why you’re the best person ever.”

“Not because I always have your back during missions?” he raised a brow.

“That too, but also because of the fact that you got me tickets to the concert of one of my favorite artists ever.”

He chuckled. “I get that.”

You ended up standing right in front of the stage - so you had not only a close-up view, but could hear everything beyond fantastically. As Taylor came out on stage and began to sing, Steve couldn’t help the look of adoration that crossed over his features at the sight of your brightened eyes and glowing complexion. You truly looked like an angel - and he knew for sure in that very moment, you were the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 

His train of thought was interrupted at one point by you grabbing his hand and squealing excitedly. “My favorite!”

Steve recognized the familiar, soothing tune as Love Story. He recalled you and Natasha drunkenly dancing around on karaoke night to this very tune - heads thrown back in laughter as you exaggerated your movements, making everyone laugh. You’d explained that the reason why you were so attached was because listening to it made you long for a happy ever after - a perfect future. A girl could dream. 

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you, but you never come Is this in my head? I don't know what to think He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring And said, 

You were too busy jumping around and singing your heart out to notice the spotlight was now shining down on you, and it was only when the crowd started shrieking in excitement that you turned around to see-

Steve was down on one knee, holding up a tiny velvet box with a beautiful diamond ring nestled in the very center. Taylor was grinning down at you two as she continued to sing, the audience chanting for you to say something.

"Marry me, Juliet You'll never have to be alone I love you and that's all I really know I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

“Yes! Yes,” you nodded, choking on a happy sob as you put a hand over your mouth, letting him slide the ring on your finger. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He stood back up and wound his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss to your lips. 

Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh 'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

...

if your name is striked out, that means i couldn’t tag you for some reason

general tags: @yoomum @captainchrisstan @sandystoriess @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @patzammit @rynhaswritersblock @capcapcapsicle @wheresmyjae @thinkingofbuckybarnes @carryonmywaywardbucky @musicalkeys @buckybarnesthehotshot @zaddychris @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @sylvie-writes @sis-it-dont-add-up @tonystankschild 

permanent tags: @sandwitch-god @renaissancecherub 

steve/chris tags: @marvelfanatic16 @angrybirdcr @speechlessxx @epiphanybucky @smokeandnailz

[the-silentium]

The Lost Future Pt.1

Masterlist   Part 2

Pairing: soulmate!Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where the soulmates share their wounds. || Along with your brother, you are transported into the 1960's with a bunch of kids you don't know. Turns out they are trying to stop the 2019 apocalypse and you are playing a key part of it.

Words: 4590 words

Warnings: Violence, blood, swears, racism. 

A/N: Hi readers! This fic' was too long to be posted in one part, so I divided it in three distinct part. The next part will come out pretty quickly, seeing as it it already written but not proof read yet. Please, let me some comebacks in the comments or send me a request!

Groans erupted from your throat, a clear indication that your peaceful slumber has been disrupted by some unknown pull. Your heavy eyelids fluttered open with difficulty, the need to sleep omnipresent in your system. A bright blue light forced you to squint while tears formed slowly thanks to its harsh brightness. Before your foggy brain could comprehend what was happening, the glow intensified in a blinding flash and the sudden feeling of free-falling gave you nausea. 

The fall was brutal, your whole body crashed on the ground like an inanimate puppet. Your hands flew to your face with a pained cry, covering the painful spot that was your nose in an attempt to soothe the suffering nerves. To say that you were confused was an understatement. One moment, you were peacefully asleep and the next you were… where? You removed your hands from your face, a pounding sensation still beating under your skin and shrieked as your eyes landed on a disgustingly big spider weaving its web between two oversized blades of grass. You jumped aside, eager to put distance between yourself and the arachnid, when your eyes met the magnificent blue sky, as clear as ever, with the sun nearing its peak. The warmth of its rays touched delicately your cheeks achieving to bring a smile to your lips. It has been a really long time since you last sunbathed and today would have been a perfect day to do it if it weren’t for the strange situation you just found yourself in. 

At the foot of a nearby tree laid a brown-haired boy cursing under his breath. He must have scratched his knee somewhere, looking as he was slouched over himself trying to alleviate the pain as you did moments ago. Your eyes traveled up, analyzing the familiar form. His outfit resembled yours, his tousled hair the same shade as yours… You jumped to your feet in a hurry when his green gaze met yours. 

"Roo!" You exclaimed, running toward your twin. The teenager only had a second to prepare himself before his body was tackled to the ground by an incredible force. His yelp made you laugh before he pushed you aside, adding another fall on the list of today's activities. Once he got a good look at you, Andrew’s eyes widen. Some tears formed in his eyes, but before they could escape and run freely down his cheeks, he threw himself at your neck, hugging you with all his might. 

"Y/N!" His strangled voice was muffled by your neck. Your arms wrapped around his body, mirroring his grip. "I missed you too, Roo," You whispered in his neck. Finally, you reunited with the only person in the whole world that understood you more than yourself. 

Pushing you at arm length, Andrew’s eyes scanned you like an awk. "How is that possible?" He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. "You-" Your laugh made him jump and clearly, he was beginning to think that you came back missing some brain cells. Patting his shoulder, a smirk stretched your lips. 

"Don't sound so disappointed." You flicked his forehead, just like you used to do when you were kids and you were teasing him. "I might think that you don't like me." 

Andrew groaned and pushed you off. Getting up snickering, you brushed off the dirt on your clothes. You had missed it, this perpetual teasing. You both could bicker and argue all you wanted, but you would always recover in no time, never holding a grudge against the other without having to talk about it. 

"What the fuck!" Andrew's yell made you look up. He pulled his clothes forward, examining and patting his body like he never saw it before. "No, no, no… Why am I thirteen again?" His head shot up, his green gaze back on you showing his confusion. "What did you do?" 

Taking a step back, you put a hand on your chest. "What did I do?" You replied in a defensive tone. "I didn't do shit! Four minutes ago I was-" Your sentence died as your eyes caught on your surroundings. Old cars you’ve had only seen in movies rolled on the streets, ladies walked by wearing old fashioned dresses of various flashy colors and various patterns, different stores displayed proudly their retro signs for all to see. Were you in one of the small American towns that were stuck in time? 

"What the…" You heard your brother mutter in sync with yourself. The thought to pinch yourself passed your mind, after all, you did have some really weird dreams recently with all the stuff that happened in your life. Or maybe you watched too much Supernatural in the last months.  

Turning around to try and make sense of the scenery, you noticed high buildings beyond the line of trees. If they were anything to go by, you would say that you ended up in a urban park in some random city. The transportation method was still unknown, but that was something you could figure out later. 

Women in colorful dresses walked slowly talking to each other on a stone walkway. Some of them pushed baby carriers around while others looked in the twins direction, a hand flying to their mouth, eyes growing as wide as saucers. Looking down, you felt your heart accelerate. You were wearing a pair of black basketball shorts along with a light grey tank top that said: "If I was a bird, I know who I'd shit on". Clearly, you didn’t have the proper attire for this period of time. Andrew was in the same predicament as yourself, with his basketball shorts and his "I play hockey because punching people for no reason is frowned upon" shirt. 

Getting a hold of Andrew's wrist, you started to walk away from the outraged women who seemed to be harshly whispering between them, their manicured fingers pointed at them. Would it have been your own modern age town, you would have assumed entirely your choice of clothing, but here, where you didn’t know jack shit about how the people would react? You kept it in and walked away. 

"Hey! You two from the 21st century!" Shocked, you stopped in your tracks and turned to meet a brown-haired boy running in your direction. His school uniform was vaguely familiar, although you couldn’t put your finger on where you knew it from. "You guys got transported too!" The boy finally reached them. He was all smile and his bubbly presence made you relax immediately. You noticed six other kids wearing the same uniform walking after their comrade. It reassure you that the majority of the group seemed as lost as your brother and yourself. Maybe you could stick with them for a while. You noticed that they had an unconscious girl with them. You wondered if her state was caused by a fall or by another unknown reason. 

"Transported? What are you talking about?" Andrew stepped closer, positioning himself right beside you. He was three inches taller than you and surpassed the new boy by a good one inch. 

Bubbly guy turned around, pointing vaguely at one of his approaching friend. "Five time-traveled us here. In the past! So we could stop the a-," a hand on Bubbly's mouth prevented him from saying more. 

Before you had time to question the sanity of Five's parents for choosing such a name or ask how one could time-travel back in time, cold blue eyes glared holes in Bubbly's head while maintaining pressure on his mouth. "Shut it. We already have enough attention on us like that." True to his words, people were watching their little group intently, some of them stopping in their tracks to openly stare at them. 

The steady rhythm in your ribcage was quickly disturbed by the harsh blue gaze falling on you. A beat or two were skipped, your body too entranced to remember that this muscle was indeed vital to your survival. "We can't talk here." A smirk stretched his lips when his eyes trailed down to your tank top. For a completely unknown reason your body answered to his apparent approval by creating some butterflies in your belly. Swiftly, he removed his jacket and handed it to you. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you stared at him, then the jacket and back at him. "I'm not cold thank you." You said confused. Rolling his eyes, Smug Face kept handing you the piece of clothing. "If you walk around looking like that, you might get arrested. People in this decade aren't that open yet." He clarified in an impatient tone.

You didn’t know much about "this decade", but you can feel that he was definitely right. The people around seemed extremely judgemental and unappreciative of your appearance. Sighing, you uncrossed your arms and took the jacket, making sure to not touch the boy's finger in the process. The last thing you needed was your heart stopping indefinitely because it short-circuited at his contact. 

"Fine." The black jacket was surprisingly comfortable and light on your shoulders. The coffee scent that lingered on it was quite enjoyable and you found yourself gripping the slightly too long sleeves. Looking down, it seemed like you were wearing a weird looking black dress. If you kept your legs close to each other, that is. Smug Face looked satisfied of your appearance and nodded. His mouth opened to speak again, only to be cut by another. 

"Wait. How do we know we can trust you?" Oh, Andrew. Always there to protect you from any harm. Speaking of which, his right arm found its place on your shoulders while his query gaze was fixed to the unconscious girl in one of the boys’ arms. 

At that, Smug Face stared at him, seemingly getting colder. "Really?" He rolled his eyes once again and scoffed, turning around. He took off toward a street, muttering to the others to follow him. Some of his companions followed right behind him after sending them curious and apologetic glances. Bubbly and a girl stayed behind, waiting for the newcomers. 

The girl sighed and offered her hand to shake. "I'm Allison. Sorry about Five, he's a bit rude."  Bubbly scoffed at that, muttering something about a grouchy old man. "The girl is our sister, Vania. She fell unconscious before we time-traveled. Look, I know you don't have to, but you can trust us." Deep inside you, you knew that they were trustworthy. Anyway, if you were proven to be wrong, all you had to do was use your power and get the hell out of there with Andrew. Smiling, you shook Allison's hand before pointing to your brother. 

"That's Andrew, I'm Y/N. And don't worry," You pointed at the nosey people still watching their little group, "between the old-timers and you guys, I choose you guys." 

Allison chuckled while Bubbly, who presented himself as Klaus, cheered and led the way to catch up with their siblings. 

The walk to a small isolated house took a good 20 minutes. In this time, you talked with the rest of the group, getting to know them a bit. 

You learned that the familiarity you found in their uniform was caused by their worldwide superheroes reputation. You remember watching the news one day, 6 of them displaying in front of a crowd, proud faces daring someone or something to come at them and try and beat them. You remember feeling proud of being born on the same day as them. You were all special after all. 

However, they weren't as invincible as you once thought in your young innocence. Apparently, they failed in preventing an apocalypse in 2019 and ended up travelling through time to survive, which failed once again because you all were back in your early teen age. The idea of being stuck in the past for your whole life was weird to say the least and you hoped that you would find a way to get back home. 

Most importantly though, you learned that Klaus was your favorite out of the group. He was carefree, almost too much sometimes, and was not afraid to be himself. You laughed along with him during a big part of the walk, the both of you mocking the outraged faces of the 1963 grown-ups when they got a good look of Andrew's shirt or Allison's too short skirt for their time. 

Luther clearly didn't trust the two addition to their little group. He shot some glances your and Andrew's way from time to time, clearly trying to judge if you were a threat or not. At one point, he asked Allison to walk with him. It may have sound innocent but you knew he wanted to protect her from you. You didn't need a power to find out, his eyes were talkative enough. 

Diego was at least approachable. He didn't talk much, but didn't reject you either. He seemed funny on first glance and you hoped that you would have a chance to talk to him more. 

Finally, there was Five. For you, he was a total mystery.  He didn't turned around once, too concentrated to get to his destination and not once did he answer his siblings when they asked where he was leading them. He totally ignored the people watching him like he had two heads, sometimes glaring at those who were too close to him, but mainly kept his eyes right ahead. 

You reached a cute little yellow house with rows of beautiful purple flowers framing the door. Pansies you think they are named. You were sure that there would be a lovely old lady greeting you at the door with a nice smell of cookies floating in the air, but to your disappointment, a musty smell gripped you at the throat instead, along with dust entering your lungs. 

You coughed a bit just like everyone who entered before you minus Five. He seemed immune to his environment, still walking like he hadn't reached his destination yet. 

"Five, the hell are we doing here?" Diego's voice echoed through the silent rooms. You wandered into the little living room, barely dodging Klaus who just threw himself on the first couch he saw. A cloud of dust erupted of the old cushion, like an explosion suffocating the brunette who quickly got back on his feet. You laughed at his antics when a hand got a hold of your arm and pulled you toward a door. 

"Come on Panda. They went this way." Andrew released you when you followed after him. The door lead to a basement, where everyone was gathered around Five. 

"Thank you for finally joining us." The sarcasm caught your attention, your eyes travelling to the source only to find his gaze on you, reanimating the flutters in your belly. Damn butterflies, you'll need to find a fly swatter soon. "Now we can concentrate on stopping the apocalypse." You froze. The what now? 

"The hell?" "Did you just say a-" both yours and Andrew's voice died in your throat when Five lifted the corner of a carpet, throwing it at your feet and gripped two wood planks. If he hadn't lifted the two planks like he did, you would never have thought that they were movable. 

"Holy shit! You have your own batcave?" Klaus jumped before Five in the hole in the ground. Five followed suit, threatening Klaus of mutilation if he touched anything. Luther moved his unconscious sister in his arms and entered the hole. Your curiosity to see what was down there got the best of you, so you did one step toward the hole before you were stopped in your tracks. 

"Woa. We can't go down there. We don't know them." Roo's uneasiness was clear. He didn't trusted them and being stuck underground wasn't helping. "No offense," he watched Allison and Diego, who stayed behind waiting for them, "but you guys might be killers for all we know!" 

A blur passed in your field of vision, passing under your brother's chin and hitting the wall. 

"Don't you fucking dare call us killers. We save people." With each words, Diego got closer to Andrew, growing the tension in the room as he went. 

"And you think that they'll trust us when you throw knives at them?" Allison grabbed her sibling's arm and pulled him back, away from Andrew's face. 

"They have to if they want to come back from here." Five's voice coming from behind you made you jump. You hasn't seen him exit the hole nor did you hear his steps. "And we don't have time to waste. The clock is ticking." His tone let no place to negotiate. He was losing patience. And fast. 

"To stop the apocalypse?" The hope of returning home, to your family and friends was relieving. If you could do something to save them in 2019, you would definitely do everything to make sure that happened. 

"Yes and if we want to have a chance to do it, we must start to plan. Now." A sigh on your left made you relax. Andrew finally admitted defeat, allowing you to follow Five who disappeared under the ground again. 

You stopped in awe at the underground living room. A bunker. The perfect hideout to plan to stop an apocalypse. 

…………………………….

Your brain felt like it was going to explode at any second. After Five had thrown spare clothes to everyone, the Hargreeves had taken an hour or so to explain what happened in 2019 and you were now trying to elaborate a plan against an organisation named the Commission. Sadly, every ideas were quickly rejected by an impatient and highly irritated Five. 

Klaus' whines about his empty stomach was getting on the boy's nerves for the last half hour, but you couldn't stop yourself before finally agreeing and proposing to go get some take out. Thinking with an empty stomach was too much to ask for and by the looks of it, Five would never be satisfied by anyone's idea. 

Cheers resonated in the room making you chuckles while Five rolled his eyes. 

"I'm coming with!" Klaus cheerfully tapped your shoulder and lead the way out of the bunker. 

"Me too! You'll need someone to "pay" for the food." Allison chuckled along with you. You shot a questioning glance at your brother, only to be answered with a shake of his head. You knew he would probably use this time to snoop around the bunker and get to know who he was plotting with.  Just as you were about to exit the house with your 2 new friends, a blue flash on your right caught your attention. 

"I'm coming." Every damn time! The second you hear that damn melodious voice, your heartbeat accelerates! Were you ill? Was your body trying to tell you something? Warn you against him? 

"Believe me, old brother dear! We really don't want to know!" Hands moving in the air like a lunatic, Klaus turned on himself to face you, walking backwards. You barely had time to slap a hand on your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at the boy. "You just want coffee, say it." He added on a more serious tone. 

"I'm here to make sure that you newbies don't alter the timeline more than it already is." Allison ignored Five's irritated comment and nudged your arm. 

"Hey, sorry about Diego earlier. He really takes his vigilante work seriously." You shrugged it off, it wasn't a big deal to you. You were a bit carefree but not careless. You had good instincts and you knew that you could trust your guts telling you that they were good allies. 

"It's fine. Sorry for my brother, Roo really crossed a line, calling you killers like that." You paused, trying to find the right words to describe your situation. "He's just really confused. One minute we are relaxing at home and the next we are back in our teenage body in an old american city." You frown, looking at the ground. A delicate hand found your shoulder and squeezed softly. 

"I forgot to ask!" You jumped at Klaus' sudden exclamation. "Where are you guys from? I can't place your accent!" 

You scratched your neck, an embarrassed smile forming on your face. "Sorry for the accent." A nervous laugh escaped your lips. "My brother and I are French Canadian. We grew up learning French and English, but I'm way more fluent in French as it's my mother tongue." You were not embarrassed of your country in the slightest. You loved Canada, it was just that a certain piercing blue pair of eyes was glued to you ever since you left the house and they started making you nervous. 

Klaus gasped before reaching your side to throw an arm around your shoulder and pull your smaller form into his side. "Our polite neighbors! You don't have to worry, your English is impéccable so far!" You giggled, happy to know that your nationality won't be an issue. 

"So you were in Canada and you still time-travelled?" Five's sudden question surprised you. During the whole way to the nearest diner, he had remained silent, listening and analysing. His incredulous tone made you perplexed. Was it wrong? You opened the door to the others before answering the question. 

"Looks like i-" A fist hit the counter in front of you, making you jump. Your heartbeat accelerated for a second, the silence in the diner deafening to your ears and rising your nervosity. Every pair of eyes in the room was directed at you, more so at Allison. You perceived her anxiety and immediately, your hand found hers in a weak attempt to appease her. The way her fingers tightly interlaced with yours despite her keeping a strong exterior alerted you that she was shrinking inside. 

The looks on the patrons faces made you sick. You recognized those looks. Disgust. Anger. Superiority. For a moment, you had forgotten that a lot of people in these years hated the people of color and that they suffered great injustices. 

The clerk behind the counter with his haughty air, pointed a sign behind him. The sight made you gnash. Whites only. Oh how you wanted to show him how colourful he could get if you hit him hard enough. You opened your mouth at the same moment as Klaus, but the both of you were interrupted by none other than Five. 

"We're leaving." Your eyes went wide, quickly turning to him to yell at him instead, but were cut off by his hand pulling you out harshly along with Allison. The second you were outside, you pulled your hand back as hard as you could, nearly elbowing Klaus in the stomach when Five let you go. 

"Why are you letting them win?" You spat. Some patrons were still eyeing you through the front window, contentment dripping from their features. You nearly decided to get back inside and speak your mind. 

"There's nothing we can do about that. Drop it." Your blood was still boiling in your veins. You wanted justice. You wanted to punch the clerk's and patron's smug faces until their thick skull understood that people of color or not, everyone had the same rights. You were all humans. You were all sentient beings. 

"It's fine. Let's go." Allison's weak smile didn't even reached her eyes. As much as you hated to, you dropped it nevertheless. Pushing the matter wouldn't do anyone any good so you followed Five towards another diner, your morale at its lowest. He and Klaus went inside to get the food while you waited with Allison outside. You two settled on a bench near the diner so the boys would find you easily and started softly passing rocks at each other with your feet.  

"You must miss them." You frowned at the affirmation. 

"Who?" 

"Your soulmate and your family." Her sad eyes met yours. It was at this moment that you realised that she looked utterly tired. It pulled at your heart to see her in this state. 

"I never met my soulmate. But I do miss my family a lot." You recalled your mom who stroked your hair when your weren't feeling good, your dad who would always figure out a way to cheer you up and your dog who would always be a sunshine and sleep over your covers to keep you warm whenever you felt cold. Lowering your head because of the tears forming in your eyes, you blinked several times to subtly kept them at bay. Years of hiding your tears caused you to improve your own technique and become an expert. 

"You'll meet him, one day." You slowly nod your head, keeping your gaze low. "You say "never" like it was definitive, but when we get back in 2019, there's still a chance that you'll find him." She pat your shoulder, smiling softly. You returned her smile. You were about to ask about her own soulmate when something shiny caught your eyes. The sun reflected off a metallic surface, which you quickly attributed to a knife. 

Before you could register what happened, your brain forced your hand to move and grab the knife in a strong grip. The pain was excruciating. The feeling of a thousand paper cuts all happening at once, cutting through your flesh and leaving a burning feeling in your palms and fingers made you grunt. As much as you wanted to drop the knife, you couldn't. Because if you were to release your grip on the weapon, the moron who tried to stab your friend would get what he wanted. 

Only when he pulled back on the knife, cutting deeper into your flesh, did you screamed and fell on your knees. You heard your name but you were too focussed trying to keep the pain at bay, squeezing your wrist in vain. The burning intensified, along with your heartbeat resonating into your hand. A soft touch on your back brought you back to reality. The moron had apparently took out, leaving you with Allison, Klaus and a disheveled Five. 

"Wait, you're cut too?" 

You couldn't concentrate. Your head along with your hand were pounding, blood pooling between your fingers and tainting your newly acquired old pants. For a moment, all you could see was the deep red of your blood, slowly oozing from the deep gashes in your palm and phalanges. It was mesmerizing and terrifying. You haven't been hurt to the point of bleeding in… years? It wasn't something you missed in the slightest. 

Then your world became blue. The most beautiful and calming shade of blue you've ever seen. It happened in a flash and suddenly you were back in the bunker under the yellow house. No more calming blue, no more street, no more cars. No more bubble. 

"What the hell happened!?" Andrew's body filled your vision while his beaming voice filled your ears. 

"Stop screaming. That's unnecessary." You were certain that if Five hadn't knelt on your side and showed you his hand, Andrew would have definitely jumped at his throat and strangled him. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blood on his hand. Both your cuts were 100% identical. "That explain why you got teleported from Canada." The tiniest of smile graced his features. "Hey soulmate." 

You didn't know how you two being soulmates allowed you to time-travel, but you knew two things: you were screwed and the butterflies will keep dancing in your stomach for the rest of your life.

Part 2

[daisiesforlacey]

The Costuming and Coloring of JATP : Part 1 - Julie Molina

I’ve seen so many of these posts and I wanted to make my own! I love costuming and color theory in film and I thought I’d do my own take on jatp! Please keep in mind that I am by no means an expert and this is only my thoughts, and feel free to add your own interpretations and thoughts :)

Heads up this is a super long post (I won’t be coving all of Julie’s outfits, only the ones that have significant meaning)

And none of this could have been possible without Soyon An, the costume designer of jatp! All referenced quotes and information for her can be found here, here, and here

One of the main difficulties of costume design is having the clothing fit the period, tone of the piece, and the character. The characters have to wear the clothes, not the other way around. Who is this person? What are their conflicts? How do they look at the world? What do they value? How do they grow? Just some examples of what good costume designers ask. 

They can also be used as a subtle tool to show who each character is; how we dress is a reflection of ourselves.

JULIE MOLINA:

Ok so we all know she is an absolute queen with AMAZING fits, even from the start of the show! I’m going to go chronologically, just to make it easier on all of us!

Julie starts off the series in a baggy yellow sweatshirt over her blue and white shirt, her painted jeans, fluffy slippers, and a set of necklaces! (Actually we first see her at school, where she wearing a flannel instead of the sweatshirt, but the same concepts apply) This already gives us A TON of information on her!!

Her necklaces include a Virgin Mary pendant, a nod to her heritage and religion and one of her own name, which we can assume is a gift from someone special to her

She puts on the sweatshirt after she gets home and bombed playing in front of her class. Idk about you, but I always want to wear sweatshirts and comfy clothes whenever I feel down, so I infer that that is what Julie is doing! 

There is also something to be said about the visual irony between bright yellow smiley face on the front and Julie’s own grieving

(Also can I just say that I love that Julie is allowed to be a teen and wear silly slippers because their comfortable clothes. I am so tried of teenagers being over sexualized and as a brown girl myself, it’s wonderful to see these multidimensional non white characters!)

Her own painted jeans, (also pretty baggy) and sneakers as said by Soyon An, are painted by Julie! (We also see her creativity later when drawing a cupcake on her mic for Luke’s bday, but that’s another post)

Her creativity seems to have no bounds, and it’s obvious that from the start that this is how she expresses herself!

If you want to get really analytical, one could say that the bright yellow covering up her blue collar could show how Julie herself is trying to cover up her own sadness

The blue and yellow also come up in another scene of hers with Luke, but that is another post entirely

JUST FROM HER CLOTHES ALONE WE, THE VIEWERS, ALREADY SUBCONCIOUSLY KNOW SOOOO MUCH ABOUT JULIE:

She’s most likely Catholic and cherishes her religion and family

She’s not feeling too confident in herself

She’s crazy creative and talented

She’s trying to mask some sort of sadness

ISN’T THAT INSANE??? A TELL TALE SIGN OF A GOOD COSTUMER!

Julie then moves to plaid pants and a cropped lavender blouse (Which I absolutely adore!!!) 

She has just met the boys, and Luke gave her that little pep talk in front of the studio and is now wearing form fitting clothes!

DON’T TWIST THIS: She’s wearing these clothes because she now feels more confident in herself and is ready to sit down and play Wake Up

Julie is wearing more subdued colors; the focus isn’t on her outfit, that’s not where the color is. The color is lighting Julie from behind. The focus of the moment is Julie and her music.

You’ll also notice the lighting behind her shifts from the cold early morning, to the sun rising behind her, again, very poetic. The sun is literally rising on Julie and it is a new dawn for her, and the start of the show itself

Not to mention Wake Up which is literally about moving forward and... waking up lol

This is maybe one of my favorite performance outfits of her! (Who am I kidding, all of them are my favorite)

Julie is wearing a camo jumpsuit with patches and her signature sneakers

The patches, once again, show us that Julie is creative in many ways along with her shoes

I love that all of her outfits seem like the average person could make them and wear them. Yet, these characters are still teenagers and are discovering their own personal style, which can be sort of outlandish. It really works to ground the show in reality with all of the kooky happenings

Julie is once again wearing her necklaces, and we can infer that she wears them all of the time

In this outfit (with an added Double Trouble tshirt underneath), she also sings Flying Solo. The jumpsuit is a reflection of her friendships with the guys and Flynn!

And this outfit with Bright??? Chefs kiss. This is the subtle characterization I live for!

Julie’s actress, Madison Reyes’, mother is in the armed forces. She and Soyon wanted an outfit to pay homage to her, and I think the camo works perfectly

By this time we already have a good grasp on who Julie is

Julie is wearing a neon blue leotard, silver white pants, fishnets, her drawn on white sneakers and a rainbow chunky sequin cloak. She also find a drum major’s cape from the music room. She has her hair in the same cornrowed way as she does in Stand Tall, with pink, red, and blue ribbons.

While I may be jumping the gun this early in the post, I love this detail. This is her fantasy which ends up coming true in the final number and that is just beautiful

Julie’s fantasy outfit in I Got the Music is so extra and wonderful

This is Julie’s idealized self; it is bright and unapologetic and you can’t help but notice her. The outfit is purposefully outlandish and completely unrealistic

This is the first thing that clues you in that this is a fantasy; she does a quick change from her previous outfit. You can also see that her trio of necklaces aren’t there.

She keeps some elements from her actual school outfit, the pants and presumably the leotard, they just get an upgrade

Ok now onto the breakdown:

These are her school colors

This is the first time we see Julie in blue since the first episode. So far, we have seen her in muted tones. This time the blue is vibrant. This signals to the viewers that she is not hiding anymore and has almost reclaimed the color

Soyon specifically said she wanted a hood for Julie such as the Virgin Mary is traditionally depicted with a head covering

Julie is wearing her school colors loud and proud with a cropped LFHS reddish hoodie, underneath is a bright blue leotard, a blue belt, and white distressed jeans and fishnets

Julie is now fully in her element and has formed a band with the boys!!! Woohoo!

If you recall, in this episode, Julie also interacts the most with Carrie and Nick up until now; the two characters rooted in her school life.

Most everything I said in the previous section is here too, just a little toned down.

One thing that I see in this outfit is that she’s wearing a little bit of the boys’ themes; Luke’s blue, Reggie’s red, and Alex’s denim and grey. 

This is also the day that she gets into the conflict with the boys, they go to Bobby’s to get revenge, lie to her, and bail on the dance. I see this as them becoming closer and then falling farther apart.

Julie is also wearing fishnets and socks, which mirrors Dirty Candi’s performance of Wow. This is a wonderful detail to show that the two aren’t so different after all.

I love this outfit and I will forever be mad that we never got to see her perform in it

Julie is wearing her mothers mesh tie dye top, a black tank top, and loose black striped pants

THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT: This is the first time we see her wear her mother’s clothes, a physical representation of her coming to terms with her mother’s death!!!

This is also when Flynn comes up with Julie and the Phantoms, another big milestone. This is when they were supposed to make a mark on her school

(Ofc we all know this is when the boys bail...)

The next day, Julie is wearing a powder blue floral dress, sneakers, with a white t shirt and a cream colored cropped fluffy jacket (this is most aligned with my aesthetic)

Again, this shows that she is experimental with her clothes

 It is also worth noting that Soyon does a good job with establishing that she is a sneaker head, I mean have you seen her kicks????

Now is a good time to talk about character colors: good media will establish a color per character. This helps viewers easily distinguish who they are and how they connect to others. Characters may wear these colors a lot or have significant moments in these colors

The colors also have their own meanings which apply (we’ll look more into this in the Stand Tall dress)

Luke is blue, Julie is purple (as we will see later on), Alex is pink, and Reggie is Red

When characters wear another character’s color it signals to us that they will be having a ‘moment’ with the other character (getting along after fighting, learning something new, etc.)

Alternatively, if a character is wearing colors opposite to another, you know they will clash

In this episode, Julie goes to Luke’s house and learns more about him and Emily AND SHES’S WEARING HIS BLUE!!! BIG MOMENT!!!

ONCE YOU NOTICE COLOR IN FILM, YOU CAN LEARN TO PREDICT WHERE THE STORY IS GOING. THESE ARE SOME HELPFUL HINTS:

Notice a character’s colors and when another character wears them, they will be having a ‘moment’

If the color in the scene isn’t on the character, the focus isn’t on them, maybe it’s on the emotions of the scene or other characters

Colors WILL signify emotions; yellow is happy, blue can be sad or calming depending on the shade, red can be passion or anger. If a character wears a lot of one color, you can predict their emotions

Ok no hate, this is definitely not my favorite outfit. It gives me mad Shake It Up vibes, not that that’s bad, just not my thing.

Julie performs Finally Free in a teal and black dress/shirt, silver biker short, a black vest, and arm bands

It has been confirmed by Charlie and Madison that this is when Luke realizes he like Julie, which makes sense as you see that she is wearing blue (She will now start wearing more of these cool tones)

She is also wearing arm bands, something Luke does often

Her vest is also the same one as the girl from the beginning, which we all know by now is Rose, her mother!

She has upcycled the vest and added her own special twists to it! It also helps for us to see connection between Rose and performing

You can also see a dahlia pin, her mother’s favorite flower. These often make an appearance! (They’re also purple)

It’s Edge of Great Time!! This is maybe the most iconic outfit!

Julie performs in a white blouse with butterflies, her hair also with butterfly clips, her pants are constructed beautifully with black and white panels. She finished the outfit with black and white combat boots and more butterflies!

Soyon specifically said that the butterflies represent Julie coming out of her cocoon and coming into herself, like a butterfly would!

This is truly her most powerful and performance worthy outfit and sucks all of the attention to her

Julie’s clean contrast of black and white also make her stand out from the rest of the band! The combination is often a symbol of power and truth! (Think judges robes)

Time to get some tissues, Unsaid Emily, it’s your turn!

This is what I consider Julie’s most average and basic outfit, but there is a lot to analyze here: A magenta sweater and jeans.

This sweater is her mothers; meaning it is probably a comforting item for her, seeing as she is about to have a very emotional moment, calling back to that yellow sweater in the beginning!

Also see how this has blue, pink, and red designs, and I’m sure by now you can tell what I am going to say: These are the guys colors! 

She’s going to have a heartfelt moment involving them, and it fits. This is one of the emotional climax’s of the show and this is when she becomes even closer with the Phantoms

You can tell, just from her standing on the steps of Luke’s house what is about to go down (Well maybe not all of the tears, but still)

Julie goes to check on the guys in the studio in a blue floral shirt and blue jeans

These are once again, Luke’s colors, but are slowly becoming THEIR colors. She wears these when she is saying goodbye to her best friends

This is also the outfit that Julie’ wears when she finds them after the performance and they haven’t crossed over. 

It makes perfect sense that she is wearing all blue when SHE AND LUKE HUG!!! (And then all of the boys too in the best group hug ever)

Of course we’re gonna end the post with this absolutely ICONIC outfit!

Julie is wearing a purple dress with purple tulle, a bedazzled leather jacket, and her hair IN THE SAME STYLE AS I GOT THE MUSIC!!!

Lets go one by one:

The dress is a Balmain dress that Soyon got for $500, then she completely deconstructed it and made it to fit Madison! that’s incredible

This is the climax of the show: the boy are ‘doing their unfinished business,’ Julie is playing the Orpheum, and what color is she wearing but PURPLE! What color are dahlias? PURPLE! What color has had the most significance? PURPLE! What do red, blue, and pink make up? PURPLE! PURPLE IS JULIE’S CHARACTER COLOR

You’ll also notice that her jacket has pink, red, and blue accents, the colors of Alex, Reggie and, Luke, to show that they have become a part of her and she is now a part of them

That’s the same for her hair

It shows how she has now achieved her dream, her make believe world is now her reality

I really think we’ll see more of Julie in purple in the seasons to come, now that she has found herself

I hope that you all have learned a little about color and costuming in this post! Once you get the hang of it, it becomes really fun, like a puzzle!

I hope to do more of these with the rest of the characters as well!

Feel free to add on your own ideas and interpretations!

[snsknene]

hesitation, arthur/eames, 11k, read on ao3 here

~~~

Arthur was in a hotel room that was his favorite kind: it was old in a way that suggested it had let number of people through its doors and would let in more until it was finally demolished a hundred years from now, old in a way that meant slightly faded carpets but wood paneling to die for.

It had not been expensive. Arthur had a lot of money from the Fischer job, but it didn't mean it would last forever. Arthur was a sensible man.

Arthur was also in his favorite pair of pajamas. They were silk and they were grey and they felt like comfort. As this was a slightly old hotel room, it had a slightly old TV with a limited number of channels, and the channel that was on now was playing reruns of some trashy reality show. Arthur did not understand anything that was going on, but he was enjoying everything that was going on, enjoying the fact that he was watching scenes of frivolity instead of growing old in a nameless dreamscape. He had a glass of wine in his hand, and he’d just had a long bath, and his hair felt slightly damp against the nice clean pillow.

He was feeling rested. He was feeling rested because he deserved it.

Of course it was then, because that was Arthur’s life, that his phone rang.

Arthur turned his head to the side to look.

Cobb, of course. No one else could ruin Arthur's relaxation like Cobb did. It was a talent and the man’s true calling.

Arthur thought he would have had a break from all the Cobb drama once Cobb had successfully gotten through immigration at the airport but apparently Cobb lived to make his life an extended babysitting gig. Arthur thought, rather bitterly, that there were only so many things Cobb could do that Mal’s death could explain away. The line had to be drawn somewhere, even though Arthur had loved her so fully and completely.

But Arthur had loved her so fully and completely. That was the issue here. Those children were still hers. If anything happened to Cobb it would be Arthur who would have no choice but to move to LA for them, and Arthur hated the humidity.

He pressed answer.

“What do you need?” Arthur asked.

“Hello to you too,” said Cobb, in a manner calm enough that Arthur didn’t think there were any guns pointed to his temple. Arthur relaxed a bit. “I was calling to check in.”

“Check in,” Arthur repeated suspiciously.

“Can’t I check in?” Cobb asked innocently. “The children are asking after you.”

“I just saw them,” Arthur said. “Tell them I’ll come by soon.”

Cobb paused. “About that,” he said, in a sketchy sort of way.

“I knew it,” Arthur said. “I knew you were in trouble. What do you need, Cobb?”

“It’s not need,” Cobb said, but it was never need, was it? Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. “I’m not in trouble,” Cobb was saying. “I just need a favour.”

Arthur shook his head against the phone and looked at the television. A favour did mean Cobb’s life wasn’t in danger and his children weren’t possibly going to be orphans, which meant Arthur, for once, had the option of saying no. For the past two years, he’d shadowed Cobb while Cobb got progressively wilder around the eyes and took on steadily more dangerous jobs, and Arthur, thinking of Mal’s arms around his neck and Philippa’s wide sunny smile, hadn’t been able to say no.

“I owe him,” Cobb said. “Properly, and it’s either I do it, but it’ll be for a couple of months– the kids need stability–”

Arthur could imagine. Their mother dying and their father being publicly arrested for it had done wonders for their future therapists’ bank accounts.

“It’s an easy extraction,” Cobb said hopefully. “And I know you’ve done so much. But look, it’s me, here, calling in one last favour.”

Arthur had already made up his mind. He had meant to see the kids anyway. He could go stateside for a bit.

“There’s just one thing,” Cobb said. He sounded apologetic now.

“Uh-huh,” said Arthur, the sigh caught in his throat already telling him what it was.

“They need a forger,” said Cobb.

~~~

There were other forgers, of course. Good ones, competent ones even. But Arthur hated working with mediocrity when he could have excellence. Eames was – unfortunately! it couldn’t have happened to a more annoying person! – excellence.

Eames had also disappeared off the grid with his share of the Fischer payout.

Which was all very well and good. Another sign of excellence, actually. Arthur had been planning to be off the grid for at least a month more with a job as high profile and risky as that. However, this made things more complicated for Arthur, because Eames’ ability to disappear was also excellent.

Arthur wasn’t Dominic Cobb’s point man for no reason. It took him nine days, but he found out where Eames was.

Eames was back home.

As off the grid went, it was still pretty on there. It was more likely people in the dreamsharing community could have seen him and recognised him. But they hadn’t yet, which also spoke to Eames’ unfortunately extensive abilities.

~~~

London reminded Arthur of Mal. Most big cities reminded him of Mal, because Mal had loved big cities. In fact, she had loved them so much she had thrown herself off a skyscraper in her most favourite city, and therefore ruined it forever for Arthur.

Luckily, while being a big city, London held no such specific memory for him. He had been there a couple of times on jobs, but those had been quick turnarounds. His strongest memories there were of hotel rooms with grey drizzly views and bad bland hotel food. He hadn’t gone around the city at all. The drizzle and food had put him off. “That’s the best they can come up with?” he remembered asking Cobb, who had merely looked, despondent and wild-eyed as ever, at the bangers and mash they had sent up.

Arthur had pinpointed the area Eames was staying, and could have waited for him there, but he figured it would look more impressive to find him where he was. Arthur ignored the little Mal-voice that asked why he had to look impressive to Eames. It took him the rest of the afternoon to track him down for the day. He was at the Tate Modern.

Arthur scanned his ticket and stepped inside the exhibition space. He combed the exhibitions until he found Art and Media, until he found a room which consisted of a large screen flashing bright unsettling images in 0.1 second bursts at its unsuspecting audience, or so the description outside promised.

Eames looked anything but unsuspecting. His face was intent. His skin was awash with the quick flicking colours of the screen, red and yellow and neon green and red red red again. When Arthur reached him he said, low, turning his head a bit, “Ah. Arthur.”

He said it Arrrthur, actually, in that annoying way he had. “Eames,” Arthur said, determined to be polite. Arthur was always determined to be polite at the beginning of every job they worked together. Eames always brought that resolve crumbling down.

“Are you in danger, Arthur?” Eames asked.

“No,” Arthur said.

“Ah,” Eames said knowingly. “A job then.”

Because Arthur made it a point to acknowledge Eames was right as little as possible, he didn’t answer, and they both stared at the screen for a while. The quick-flash images did feel quite unsettling, but the pictures didn’t last long enough for Arthur to catch what they were and why they unsettled him. He supposed that was the point. There was only colour to remember, mauve and cobalt and red red red again, colours that pressed against his eyelids.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” he asked at last.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eames shifted a bit. “No,” he said. “But we don’t need to enjoy art to appreciate it.”

“We don’t need to waste time on art we don’t enjoy,” countered Arthur.

Eames started walking out of the room then, so Arthur followed. “It’s enough that we feel the art,” he said, still low and unbearably pretentious. “Don’t you, Arthur? Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable? Doesn’t it make you long for more, or less, or something different?”

Arthur took a quick glance back into the room as they left it. The images were still flashing and the colours were still bursting.

Out of the room, Eames was visible without neon lights washing over him. Arthur noted that his hair was slightly shorter and even though he was still wearing a terrible sports jacket over terrible cargo pants, he looked well-rested. Without preamble Arthur said: “There’s an extraction–”

“Alright,” said Eames. “Hello to you too. Anyway, I can’t make it.” He turned on his heel and started walking in the direction of the exit.

“What do you mean you can’t make it?” Arthur asked, hating that Eames made him do stupid things like rush to keep up with him.

“I’m terribly busy,” Eames said, walking down the escalator.

“You’re not exactly doing much,” Arthur observed.

“Well I am,” said Eames. “So there.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.” This was veering dangerously into playground territory, like things usually did with Eames. Arthur thought about what might sway him.

“There’s a lot of money in it,” he said, knowing it wouldn’t help much.

“I haven’t exactly managed to go into debt since we were last paid more than we’d ever need in two lifetimes, sweetheart,” Eames said, hiking stupid aviators on and walking out the glass doors.

“It’s a favour,” Arthur said, then hesitating, because he couldn’t exactly say ‘to Cobb’. Eames was probably still furious at the fact that Cobb had nearly let them spend eternity inside their own heads and walked off contentedly into the sunset and his kids after. He’d said as much in the airport bar three months ago. That was how they’d left things, snappish, which explained why Eames wasn’t immediately being teasing and flirtatious and smirky in Arthur’s general direction.

Arthur didn’t miss it, of course not. This was almost professional of Eames, which had to be an upgrade.

“Oh?” Eames said, stopping and looking at Arthur, but his face was inscrutable behind the shades. Outside, it was cool with autumn weather, watery sunlight filtering through the leaves above Eames.

“To me. I’d owe you one,” Arthur said. He didn’t know why he let Cobb make him do things like this. He had loved Mal fully and completely, but surely she wouldn’t have wanted him to lose all his dignity in this way.

“You’d owe me one,” Eames repeated, sounding slightly delighted.

The wind ruffled his hair a bit. In the watery sunlight it looked watery gold.

“Yes,” said Arthur.

Eames looked at Arthur inscrutably behind his shades, and Arthur looked back, knowing Eames would call it in at the worst time, probably one day when Arthur was reclining in a hotel room, thinking of nothing but comfort.

“Alright then,” Eames said eventually. “But either way, I can’t go now. I’ll be ready in about a month or so.”

He set off again, in the direction of the pier. Arthur set off after him, annoyed that he was continuing to be difficult, just because they’d had a disagreement. “Why can’t you be ready now?”

“I said I’m busy, darling,” Eames drawled, reaching the edge of the pier and looking out at the river.

Arthur let him stare out at the Thames for long moments before he dripped sarcasm into his voice. “Yeah, I can see work’s really piling up.”

Eames sighed and removed his glasses, folding his arms and looking directly at Arthur. “I’m not messing with you, Arthur. I do have things I need to do here. If the job’s not urgent I’ll be there in a month.” Like this, Arthur could see that his eyes were the colour of the river and the sky, that he was better-shaven than on the job but he was stubbly still, that he had gained some weight and filled out his horrid sports jacket and terrible cargo points. He looked well-rested, it was true. He looked relaxed. He did not look like he was lying.

Arthur, impatient in this grey city with the grey sky and the bad food, called his bluff anyway. “Fine.”

“Fine,” said Eames, turning back to the sunset.

“Fine,” said Arthur.

After a bit Eames narrowed his eyes at Arthur. “I see you’re not leaving.”

“I’ll hang around here,” Arthur said, not at all childishly. “Help out with the job if it makes things go faster.”

“You’ll hang around here,” Eames repeated blankly.

“Why not?” Arthur asked. “I could use a change of pace. I haven’t seen much of this place.” He waved a hand at the Thames, signifying the city.

Eames suddenly looked considering, one eyebrow raised. He shrugged, and Arthur could see the beginnings of amusement in his eyes. “I could use your help, actually,” he said. His tone had changed too: lighter, more like the unprofessional behaviour Arthur knew and did not love.

Arthur had done his research. He knew Eames didn’t have dreamsharing work in London. “Let’s go, then,” he said, hoping Eames would give this up sooner rather than later, admit he didn’t actually have a job and let Arthur get started on his last Cobb favour.

In answer, Eames started heading down a flight of stairs on the pier that led to the riverbank. Arthur scowled. He could see stones and sand, pigeons excited to shit all over his Saville Row. He followed him down anyway.

Eames stood on the riverbank, dirty filthy water nearly reaching his lumberjack boots. He bent down to pick up a pebble. Arthur kept his distance as Eames skipped it smoothly on the surface, tap tap tap splash. “You’re going to love London, darling,” he called back to Arthur, picking up another pebble. “I’ll take you around and everything.”

~~~

Eames took him back to his place in Richmond, the flat that Arthur had scoped out already. It was in a nice neighbourhood, and the apartment itself was woodsy and rich, dark plush furniture and paintings that swirled warmly.

“So what is it?” Arthur said, getting impatient. They’d taken the tube. Arthur massively disliked the tube. It was hot and sweaty and next time they were taking a car, but Eames had insisted on an authentic London experience. “Who’s it involve?”

“Patience, sweetheart. You’ll see,” Eames told him, stripping off the sports jacket and revealing an awful brown t-shirt underneath. It was ripped, but not artfully, like a designer had planned it, more like mice had gotten into his closet. “We’re going there now.”

“You could try being less mysterious,” Arthur suggested.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Eames asked.

Honestly it felt kind of ridiculous, because Arthur knew there was no job. But he kind of wanted to see where Eames would bring him, how Eames would play it out, how eventually he would say You win darling and Arthur could drag him back to LA in satisfaction, because Eames brought out that incredibly petty side of him.

Eames took him for a walk around the neighbourhood. They were in the cool dark air, streetlights washing over them glowingly, time and time again. Little noises emanated from the flats they passed, sounds of dinners and nightly routines and familiarity. “Eames,” Arthur said, after exactly eighteen minutes of walking.

“It’s just here, Arthur,” Eames said. This seemed nonsensical. They crossed a playground. Eames walked up to a blue door and knocked.

Arthur began to reconsider. Perhaps they really was a job, an up and coming extractor, a new team. Sure, Eames hadn’t taken jobs like that before, small ones without the chance of big payouts, but maybe he was rolling with it now he was rolling in it.

A woman opened the door. She was heavily pregnant.

Before Arthur had a chance to gape, she was looking at Eames, saying, “Finally!” and leaned out of the door to kiss him on the cheek, before cuffing him gently about the head. “You said you’d be here an hour ago.”

She was very pretty, with wavy chestnut hair and large eyes and the same sort of carelessness of manner as Eames had, her posture easy and her gestures expansive.

“I was waylaid,” Eames said, after kissing the top of her head and tilting his head at Arthur.

“Oh, hello, come in!” Eames’s girlfriend? wife? pregnant with his child? said to Arthur, smiling brightly at him. “Who’s this?” she added to Eames as she turned to go back in.

“This is Arthur,” Eames said, stretching it out again, and levelling a grin at Arthur before following her into the flat. “He’ll be joining us for dinner.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how he was feeling. Appalled, slightly, of course, that Eames flirted like a madman and especially with Arthur and there had been times even–once or twice–after a job that they had looked at each other, exhilarated and knowing, and something in Eames eyes had softened and Arthur hadn’t known what to make of it and–well! He knew what to make of it now.

This selection of thoughts happened in quick succession and he was moving across the threshold, into a cosy, warm sort of place that smelled of spaghetti and contained Eames, sitting in a messy living room with what looked like a two-or-three year old clinging to his leg.

Two kids. The things one could keep from co-workers they’d known for years–Arthur hadn’t seen it crop up, even once. The child, golden-haired and babbling, was trying to climb onto Eames’s lap, and he was smiling down at her and talking to her lowly and adoringly. Arthur wrenched his eyes away. He tried not to stare, feeling his stomach churn. Instead he moved left, into the kitchen where the spaghetti was boiling and the woman stirred at it.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Arthur.”

“I’m Rosie,” she said, turning to stick a hand out. “Sorry the house doesn’t look great–Will didn’t tell me he was bringing anyone–”

“Sounds like him,” he said, and Rosie grinned. “It looks great, don’t worry about it.”

Her gaze turned considering, and she looked a lot like Eames when it happened. Eames had married(?) a second him, of course he had, the self-absorbed dickhead. “You work with Will?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Arthur uncomfortably, wondering how much she knew about dreamsharing. “We–work–we’ve worked together. I was in town.”

“Hmmm,” she said slowly. “He’s never brought anyone back. You really must be special.”

“Oh,” said Arthur. He tried to look across to Eames for help, but Eames was already looking back at Rosie, with an expression that looked like exasperation. Why had Eames brought him back, anyway? Sure, he and Arthur were acquaintances, almost friends, but Arthur hadn’t even heard he had two kids. Eames had kept it from everyone, and well and good for him too, you never knew who you could trust. He’d probably brought him back here tonight probably because he wanted to one-up Arthur who was ridiculously following him in London about a job, showing him look I have a life, what can you say to that? Well, he’d won. Arthur was hightailing it out of here tonight, because this was just weird.

Eames stood up. “Arthur,” he said. “I see you’ve met Rosie. And this is Lily.” Lily squirmed happily in his arms and stuck out her hand. Arthur had to exit the kitchen and head to the sofa to take it.

“This is Arthur,” Eames said to Lily, turning his head to kiss her cheek. “Say hi Arthur.”

“Hi Ar-fur,” Lily said. Arthur was helplessly charmed by this. “Hello, Lily,” he said seriously.

“He’s come to ask me to go back to work and leave you alone,” Eames said sadly to her.

Arthur hadn’t known he’d had a kid. “I didn’t know you had a kid,” he said, while Lily reached up to touch Eames’s hair. “Unca Wew,” she babbled, which just sounded like nonsense.

“Yes, Lily,” Eames cooed. “Evil Arthur’s taking Uncle Will away from you.”

“Uncle,” Arthur said inadvertently. Eames looked up at him before he could school his features into a neutral expression, and his mouth curved up into a wicked grin. “Why, Arthur,” he said, drawing it out longer than ever, “who did you think I was to Lily?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Arthur said, glaring.

“Perhaps I should have specified. I see you’ve met my sister, Rosie, and this is my niece, Lily,” Eames announced, too amused for his own good.

Rosie called from the kitchen and through a cloud of steam, “Stop teasing him. You know you should have said.”

“Though I find it slightly offensive,” Eames continued, looking at Arthur, “that you thought I was frequently jetsetting around the world away from my wife and child, with another one on the way. I’ve worked with you four times over the last year.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Arthur lied.

“You wound me, Arthur,” Eames informed him, grey eyes quite serious. Arthur had no idea if he’d really offended him or not.

“William,” Rosie said. “Be nice. And come and eat.”

They sat around the dining table, Lily in the high chair kicking her little legs out. The spaghetti was slightly overcooked but the sauce was warm and rich, and Arthur hadn’t had anything to eat all day. Eames and Rosie bickered at each other lightly. Arthur could see it now, the similarities in their features and manner: their storm-coloured eyes, the drawl, their sarcasm and clear affection for each other.

“Have you known Will long, Arthur?” Rosie asked speculatively.

“Years,” Arthur said. “On and off.”

“We work together a lot,” Eames said, throwing a quelling look at Rosie. Perhaps he didn’t want her to know about the work. “Arthur’s here to offer me another job.”

“Sorry it has to wait,” Rosie said apologetically. “Will promised he’d stay here until the baby’s born, which hopefully is in about three weeks as my feet can’t take it anymore. My husband’s stuck in Switzerland and he won’t be able to be here in time.”

“That’s very… kind of him,” Arthur said.

Eames smiled smugly at this, as if he knew what it took for Arthur to admit this in public. “I know it is,” he said, preening. “I am in fact an extremely excellent brother.”

“So,” Rosie said innocently. “Arthur, this is actually quite novel. I’m sure friends of Will have been in town before and he’s never brought them to dinner.”

“It’s just dinner,” Eames said.

“Is it?” Rosie asked.

“It’s not like that,” Eames said, annoyed now. “Arthur’s a friend I trust. That’s rare.”

“Is he,” Rosie said, emphasizing the words.

Eames threw a look up to the heavens. Arthur swallowed another forkful of spaghetti. Rosie said, “I’m messing with you, Willy,” and ruffled his hair. Eames turned to throw another exasperated look at Arthur, like he was in on it with him.

Arthur realised he’d never seen Eames like this: fond, affectionate, loose and relaxed. On a job there was always the element of danger and Arthur saw it in the line of his shoulders, the glint in his eyes, and appreciated knowing there was someone else who was keeping an eye out, just like he always was. But now Eames was feeding Lily carefully, using a thumb to wipe the food dribbling down her chin, and kicking at his sister’s chair. He looked at home here. It was something Arthur did not know how to process. It felt nonsensically like something inside him, not Eames, had been exposed to the world.

~~~

Arthur, having helped wash the dishes, opened the door to Eames sitting on the front steps. Eames quirked a brow and scooted slightly to the side, so Arthur sat down beside him.

“Thanks for the help with the dishes,” Arthur said pointedly.

“I helped with dinner,” Eames said blithely.

Arthur held off the Barely and instead accused him, “You said you had work here.”

“Did I?” Eames asked, turning towards him slightly. “I remember saying I was busy, and I had things to do here.” Thoughtfully, he decided, “I believe you implied that it was a job, darling.”

“Whatever,” Arthur said, feeling just slightly foolish about sounding like a teenager. “Anyway. I should get back.”

There was a little pause.

“Should you?” Eames asked. “You said you’d…” He made a little humming sound. “Hang around here. Help out with the job.”

“Well,” Arthur said. “There is no job.”

“I could still use some help.” Eames grinned rakishly, then it faded. “It’d only be a few weeks, and then we’d get on with it. I could show you around the city,” he said, looking down suddenly, up at Arthur again inscrutably. He ran his hand through his hair, looking unfairly good in the lamplight, softer, almost more uncertain. “You said you hadn’t seen much of it.”

Arthur didn’t know what he was thinking. He was thinking, though, of how the Cobb job could wait, it wasn’t urgent. How he did perhaps want to go to Saville Row itself, about how the city was grey but curious in the autumn light. How Eames looked in this apartment, easy and familiar and familial, and how perhaps it was strange, surreal, something he’d like to see more of.

He said, “I guess I haven’t.”

~~~

Back in the hotel room, in the shower, he considered what he’d agreed to, which was nothing at all. Rosie had retired to bed, complaining that her back was killing her, and Eames had started to tend to a fussing Lily.

“You don’t have to leave now,” he had told Arthur.

“I don’t want to get in the way,” Arthur said.

Lily sniffled in Eames’s arms. He bounced her a little and looked at Arthur, something fond in it. “You’re never in the way, darling.”

Lily let out a little cry. Arthur said, “Put her to bed.”

Eames had asked, “Do you have a hotel?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” Eames said. Very casually, he said, “I’ll see you soon?”

Arthur said, “I still need a tour guide,” and watched Eames smile. It had felt like more than a goodnight. He stepped out of the shower and changed into soft, silk pyjamas, settled himself into the bed.

The room was smaller than his last one, and it was sleeker, more modern. It had a mounted television and large, floor-to-ceiling windows. Arthur turned on his side and looked out the window at the calm expanse of city lights. At night London wasn’t grey and dreary; at night it was like any other big city. He supposed a couple of weeks here wouldn’t be so bad.

Arthur wondered if Eames was asleep, perhaps collapsed onto the futon, perhaps back in his own bed in his own apartment. He realised he’d essentially agreed to be taken around the city by him. Eames, forger extraordinaire, flirt and friend and bane of Arthur’s life. Taken around like it was–some kind of–like he was stepping out into town with his gentleman caller, or something. Arthur rolled back onto his back and stared up at the dark ceiling.

Probably it was because Eames had thrown him off today with the familyness of it all. Eames was usually sharp-edged like Arthur and usually thrived in loud casinos and bare-knuckled brawls and chaotic dreamscapes, and seeing him today so easy and relaxed, Arthur just hadn’t recovered from it. But Eames would take him to a few overpriced tourist attractions, flirt and be ignored by Arthur, be familiar and uncomplicated to banter with, and then they’d go back to work, to the dynamic Arthur knew and knew well.

~~~

Arthur woke up to his phone ringing. He mumbled something incomprehensible and squinted at the caller ID.

“Eames,” he mumbled.

“Rise and shine!” Eames said chirpily. “Lily woke me up at six so now you’re up too. I’ll see you at the National Gallery at ten.” He hung up.

Arthur checked the time. Six fifteen. Bane of Arthur’s life, constant sigh caught in his throat. He set an alarm blearily and went back to sleep.

At nine fifty seven he was waiting at the entrance for Eames, who turned up at ten fifteen.

“Arthur!” he said. He was wearing a shirt with large orange stripes down the sides, and his linen pants brushed against the floor. His hair was slicked back today.

“You’re late,” said Arthur.

Eames smiled a bit. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up.”

“Why not?”

“I thought I was going to have to drag you from your hotel room,” said Eames. He looked Arthur up and down, slow and considering. “Come on, then.”

Eames wandered from room to room, asking Arthur things like, “Do you like this one?” and watching Arthur closely as he said “No,” and “It’s interesting,” and “I guess.” They passed Vermeer, Titian, Cézanne. Arthur liked Gossart, squinted at Monet, and paused in front of Matisse’s Portrait of Greta Moll. Greta stared somewhere off-right, sleeves rolled up and one elbow leaning against the table. She looked casual and impatient and restless, something about her spirit captured even through the broad brushstrokes.

“It’s like she’s about to speak,” Arthur said. “Like she’s about to say ‘are we done already?’”

Eames huffed a little laugh. Arthur felt him, against his side, a warm bulky breathing presence. Eames always smelled like something light and woodsy, something clean and attractive. “Is that your favourite so far?” he asked.

“Yes,” Arthur said. Eventually, he asked, “What do you like?”

“Hrm,” Eames said. He rubbed a hand against his scruff, the scratchy sound louder in the quiet room. He brought Arthur up the stairs to Room 43. Johan Barthold Jongkind’s River Scene hung there and looked back at them.

Something about the scene was mournful: the darker colours, the singular man over the boat. Boats were on the riverbank and a ship was in the distance, everything bathed in colours that felt like evening. Arthur thought of the end of a long day.

“It’s peaceful,” Eames said.

“It’s lonely,” Arthur said.

They watched the painting.

“Maybe he’s setting off into the sunset,” Eames said. “Or maybe he’s cleaning up and going home.” He made a soft humming sound. “Don’t you wonder? It’s all up to him.”

Later, they went to a kebab shop a few streets down. There were only four tables there and it was dimly lit and smelled a lot like sanitiser, but it was the best kebab Arthur had ever had. Eames rubbed some mayonnaise off his own cheek with his thumb, said smugly, “I knew you’d like it.”

“Uh huh,” said Arthur, unable to speak articulately around a mouthful of delicious doner.

“I’m going to make you love London,” Eames said, self-satisfied. “You’re going to want to come here all the time.”

“Mm-mm,” Arthur said, in lieu of Yeah sure. But I will admit this food is incredible and I might come back just for it.

“So,” Eames said, casually after a few more bites, “how’s Cobb?”

Arthur stiffened, just a bit. Cobb, the reason they’d left each other irritated the last time. “Doing fine,” he said. “With his kids.”

“Working?” Eames asked.

“Eames,” Arthur said warningly.

“He should never work again,” Eames said shortly. “If it were anyone else… I wouldn’t be able to trust them again.”

This was the point in the airport bar where Arthur, head still full of Mal’s manic eyes, her familiar voice, the thought of her children, had snapped, You wouldn’t understand why he did it. Eames had turned cold, said snidely, My well of sympathy ran dry when he nearly drove us insane doing it.

“I know,” was what Arthur said now. If it had been anyone else Arthur would have driven them out of the industry. He stabbed furiously at a chip. “I know.”

Eames watched him but didn’t press it, somehow knew not to press it.

~~~

On Tuesday Eames took him to the British Museum. He spent most of his time pointing out displays that were easier to steal than others. “It’s all okay,” he said to Arthur, “they’re all stolen anyway.” Arthur learned three new ways of getting past CCTV cameras after a museum was closed, watching Eames’ plush mouth murmur illegal ideas delightedly at him, and considered it time well-spent.

On Wednesday he took him to the London Zoo. They spent most of their time with the bats, the rainforest enclosure. It was damp and humid there, made Arthur think of Singapore, or Indonesia. He liked the bats. They were soft, furry things and once in a while they’d swoop over Arthur’s head. Eames enquired after the sloth and the spiders and spent a lot of time watching the rats scampering on the jungle floor.

On Thursday they went to the cinema. (“I thought we were going to Odeon,” Arthur said. He looked down at the dusty carpets and up the water stain he saw on the low ceiling. “Dream bigger,” Eames said, and led him into a little hall with only four faded rows that smelled of stale popcorn.) The opening credits to In A Lonely Place started playing, and Eames settled back, mouthing along happily, “Dix Steele, how are you?” To Arthur, he said, like a well-loved secret, “I used to come here after school.” Arthur thought of a younger Eames in his uniform, amongst these faded seats, large-eyed, wondering, amazed at the screen. Dreaming.

~~~

On Friday Arthur woke up without a call from Eames. Bleary-eyed, he texted him: No touristing today?

Eames replied rosie has checkup 2day gotta take her

Arthur’s fingers hovered over the screen. He typed back Who’s watching Lily?

Eames said, she was gonna come w us but if ur volunteering 2 babysit

Arthur didn’t have anything on, so he said out loud, “Okay.” He typed Okay.

Eames replied ???????? which didn’t make any sense so Arthur got his clothes on and ordered a car over to Rosie’s house. Eames opened the door, Lily at his heels. He squinted at Arthur, squinting a little more, looking a little like Cobb with all the squinting. Arthur considered telling him that, but Eames, who could hold a grudge against dangerous incompetence, would probably not appreciate it very much.

“Ar-fur,” Lily greeted him, while Eames squinted.

This seemed to jolt him into speech. “You’re actually… babysitting.”

Arthur shrugged. “I babysit Cobb’s kids all the time. Hi, Lily.”

Rosie shouted, “Who’s that?”

“Arthur’s come to babysit,” Eames called over his shoulder, then turned back to do more squinting at Arthur.

“Has he!” Rosie said. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s so nice Arthur. Lily hates the doctor’s office, I was already gearing up for a spectacular meltdown… come in. Will, let him in, why are you still out there?”

Eames pressed against the wall for Arthur to enter. Rosie came out, her bump looking even bigger, if that was possible, and started reeling off a list about Lily: lunch, playtime, nap, favourite toys, no sweets after four. “We’ll only be a couple of hours,” she said, “but just in case the waiting is longer…” Arthur nodded and kept up. Eames trailed after them, still quiet.

“Lily, sweetie,” he said, after Rosie had grabbed her keys, thanked Arthur again, and headed out to the car, “be good for Arthur. No messes please, he’ll have a breakdown.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. Eames bent down to kiss her on top of her soft golden head, then straightened up, quite close to Arthur. He still looked vaguely puzzled, like he was trying to figure something out.

“Pizza’s in the fridge. No boys over, young lady,” he said after a moment, the corner of his ridiculous mouth curling up. Arthur rolled his eyes again with emphasis.

“Say bye bye now Lily,” he said, sinking down cross-legged on the carpet with her. She waved up at Eames and tugged at Arthur’s wrist, pointing at the box of blocks she wanted him to unpack for her.

“Don’t miss me too much, darling,” Eames said, walking away.

~~~

Lily was a very charming child, stacking blocks up on top of each other and making noises that were sometimes words at Arthur. “See, Ar-fur,” she said, constantly, waving a hand, so Arthur saw her construct a tall castle-like structure, ride a toy pony crashing through it with Eamesian dramatics. She took her lunch without fuss and watched an episode of Creatures of the Sea fascinatedly after, clapping at dark underwater images of the giant squid. Arthur studied her and thought she had Rosie’s brown curls, and her eyes–Rosie’s eyes, Eames’s eyes, stormy and grey-green and bright with intelligence.

But even very charming children realised that their mother and uncle had been gone for almost two hours, and began to cry about it.

“Oh, Lily,” Arthur said. “I know. They’ll be back soon.”

“Mama,” she sobbed heartrendingly. “Unca Wew.”

Arthur took her in his arms. She went trustingly, but continued to cry. “Do you want to go to the playground, Lily?” She shook her head. “No? Yeah, it’s probably naptime, isn’t it?” He got up and started bouncing her gently like he’d seen Eames do. She wailed and wailed.

It reminded him of Philippa. It reminded him of Philippa, younger and fretful, with Mal saying “Arthur, she hasn’t stopped crying for ages!” and looking close to tears herself. Arthur had stayed with Philippa until she’d stopped crying, her sobbing turning into hiccups, while Mal had snored on the sofa, drooling and relieved of her duties for a blessed few hours. He’d stayed with James, too, and now he stayed with Lily, missing Mal abstractly and tiredly.

She fell asleep, finally, and three and a half hours after they’d left, Eames and Rosie returned. Rosie made noises of gratitude, telling Arthur everything was fine medically, but she also seemed exhausted, going to the room and announcing that she was putting her feet up and no one disturb her until dinner please.

Eames stood there levelling that considering look he’d been using a lot on Arthur lately. “I didn’t know you still babysat Cobb’s kids.”

Eames had known Mal, but distantly; he’d only known her through Cobb and work. Mal had stayed home more after the kids were born. He’d known that Arthur had been her best friend, or at least he’d known they were close. The first job they worked after her death, he’d offered Cobb his condolences, but in a quiet moment he’d also told Arthur he was sorry.

Sometimes Arthur had complained about working with Eames to Mal. Mal had rolled her eyes and said “Oh, Arthur,” and asked for a dossier on him. After looking through it she’d just said, “Oh, Arthur, oh, Arthur,” and from then on would just smile at him teasingly, smile at him like she was happy whenever Arthur complained. If she could see him now, in London, in Eames’s territory, smiling over his niece… but she couldn’t. Whatever thoughts she’d gotten into her ridiculous romantic head, she was gone now, and Arthur was still here.

“Yeah,” Arthur said. Suddenly it felt too warm in the cluttered living room, and he forced himself not to loosen his tie. He needed the coolness of his hotel room.

“We owe you dinner,” Eames said, propped against the wall with his shoulder. His hands were shoved in his jeans; his head was bent, looking up at Arthur in a way that was very unprofessional, very inviting.

“Actually I’m going to head back,” Arthur said, picking up his jacket and avoiding his eyes. “I’ll pick up something on the way.”

“Oh. Hmm.” Eames shoved himself upright and didn’t argue, like Arthur had thought he maybe would. “Okay, Arthur.”

~~~

On Saturday Eames didn’t text him. Arthur lay in bed until eleven, which was unlike him, and ordered himself breakfast. It was an English Breakfast, whatever that meant, and the eggs were kind of runny, which Arthur didn’t like, and the sausages were slightly too salty for his taste. Arthur had gotten used to his English meals over the past couple of days being little places where Eames knew the owners, where he would moan around mouthfuls and try not to blush at Eames watching him do it. Eames knew what he liked, that was what happened when you’d worked with each other coming up six years, and he’d been taken Arthur places he knew Arthur would enjoy.

Eames. Arthur turned his head and groaned into his pillow. This was why he kept his distance. He’d always known Eames meant danger. The bane of Arthur’s life, that’s what he was. It was all very well and good when Mal had been alive and it was a distant, maybe sort of delightful possibility to unravel, maybe in an abandoned warehouse when the rest of the team were taking the day off, maybe celebrating a job well done with whiskey in a dimly lit room…

But now Mal was gone, and Arthur couldn’t forget it, couldn’t forget the day he’d gotten the call and gone blank all over. He’d loved Mal so fully and completely and he hadn’t ever loved anyone like that before her, and he’d always known–so had Mal–that if he allowed himself to, he would love Eames like that, except even fiercer, even fuller, with everything he had inside him. If a call like that came for Eames he would not be able to deal with it. He just wouldn’t.

~~~

On Sunday Eames called. “How do you feel about Camden?” he asked, sort of formally. He hadn’t really asked before. He’d demanded Arthur’s presence at the museum, the gallery, the cinema.

“I don’t know much about Camden,” Arthur told him.

“Would you like to know more?” Eames asked very neutrally.

Arthur took a deep breath. Eames, neutral and asking, and Arthur was in too deep for no. “A tour guide would help.”

Camden was touristy and busy and sunny and noisy, full of bright stalls and small shops that promised a multitude of things from inside its doors. They walked along the market and Arthur peered at colourful little knickknacks that he wanted to take home to either his mantelpiece or Philippa. Eames pored over the covers of books with spines that looked like they were crumbling. Arthur eventually lost him in an antique store and he came out carrying a heavy long bronze giraffe, its neck as long as his arm.

“This reminded me of you, darling! Look at how graceful and slender it is!” he exclaimed to Arthur, who resolutely refused to help him carry it home. Eames called him cruel and impetuously bought a shopping trolley to cart it along.

“You know, I don’t really mean to rag on Cobb,” Eames said later in the day, the giraffe trailing behind him patiently, Arthur pretending it wasn’t there. He caught the look on Arthur’s face and amended, “Or, I do. I really do. It’s just that it’s not just him. It’s other people he’s risking, being in that frame of mind.”

“Yeah, I know,” Arthur said, squinting away from the late afternoon sun and into Eames’s direction. He did know. Eames was full of bullshit that drove Arthur wild for a myriad of reasons, but he was excellent, always professional, and Arthur trusted him with his body and his mind. Perhaps now that Cobb had done what he had, Eames was the only one he trusted with his body and his mind. “You can’t trust him. He put you in danger.”

“He put you in danger, Arthur,” Eames said. He was looking fully at Arthur, storm-eyes steady and eyelashes tinged gold; Arthur swallowed and looked back. “And I’m not very known for playing it safe, but surely you know by now that’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”

Arthur swallowed again.

The moment held.

Eames’ phone rang.

“What? Rose, what?” he said. He looked urgent and intense, capable. Arthur took in a breath as the moment dissipated. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be there.” He hung up and fumbled with his screen. “I think she’s in labour.”

“I’ll stay with Lily,” Arthur said. Eames nodded at him distractedly and gratefully. When the car came he left his trolley behind in his hurry, so Arthur trailed it patiently after himself; Eames turned around and almost collided with him.

“Arthur, you remembered,” he said, grabbing at the handle and smiling at him, the look bright and completely focused. “What would I do without you.”

~~~

Rosie was not in labour. It was false labour, Braxton Hicks contractions, and they returned home in the late evening. Lily had been coaxed to the park, begging Arthur to push her higher and higher on the swings, so she had hardly noticed their absence. She ran up and to her mother, grabbing at her leg. Rosie ruffled her hair and took her hand.

“She’s supposed to be on bed rest,” Eames said. “Rose, get in there right now.”

“I just want this thing out,” Rosie said bleakly, looking down at her belly.

They got her settled in her bedroom and she lay there, complaining once in a while about her back and her feet and her bladder and the general unfairness of the world. Eames, clearly trying to distract her, talked about the nurse who had given him directions to someone else’s room and how he’d entered the room to a wide-eyed woman and her husband, who screamed at him in Italian to leave.

“What are you planning to call him?” Arthur asked, after Eames had exhausted his stories and Rosie looked more exasperatedly amused than frustratedly exasperated.

“Will,” Rosie said, smiling.

Eames frowned. “You know I hate that name.”

“Well if you won’t use it anymore, I might as well give it to this kid,” Rosie said, unperturbed. To Arthur, she said, “William Walliams wasn’t a very good look for Mum and Dad, I’ll give him that.”

Arthur pressed his lips together, stifling the smile, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known Eames’s unfortunate given name. Eames glanced at him, grimaced, and mumbled to Lily, who was sitting on his lap, “Hope your brother stays in there for another week. See how Mama likes that.”

~~~

When Rosie fell asleep, Eames started making dinner. Arthur realised he hadn’t really seen him cook before. He did it like he did most things, extravagant and intuitive, pouring salt and pepper into the pot without measuring it out, swiping gravy off the ladle with a finger and tasting it. He looked over at Arthur while he was doing this. Arthur heaved a sigh, looking heavenward. Eames laughed.

“You’re good with Lily,” Eames said. “She likes you.” Arthur was nodding as Lily drew on a pad, nudging her crayons away from the wood of the table. She was explaining her creations to him, gesticulating wildly.

“I like her,” Arthur said.

“She’s going to miss you,” Eames said offhandedly, ladling food into bowls. “You could visit again.”

Arthur determinedly kept his eyes on Lily’s crayons. “Wouldn’t be safe, both of us coming here more. It wouldn’t be safe for them.”

Eames considered this and visibly dismissed it. “We’re competent. We know how to cover our tracks. You know nobody knows we’re here.”

“Is it really a good idea, when we’re in this business?” Arthur asked.

“So we shouldn’t live our lives at all because of our work, darling?” Eames’s tone was light but there was an undercurrent to it that Arthur recognised from moments like How’s Cobb? Arthur still didn’t look up. He said, “I’m saying we should take precautions because of our work.”

“That seems unfair to us.” Eames sounded firm and Arthur could imagine it, he’d seen Eames go tense before, his eyes sharp and his jaw set. It no longer sounded like they were talking about visiting Lily.

“It’s better than losing people you care about.”

“Ah, Arthur,” Eames said, quietly. “So this is what it’s about.” The temperature of the room had changed. Arthur felt cold.

“Eames,” he said, a very quiet warning.

“I know she’s gone, Arthur, but we’re still here.” Eames’s voice was low and rough.

“Eames. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Mal’s gone,” Eames said, volume rising very slightly, “but I’m here Arthur, and you’re here, and we’re here. Can’t we even talk about–”

“It’s not just that,” Arthur said, looking up. Eames had come closer. The counter separated them, only the counter and nothing but the counter. “I’ll never be able to tell her about it. She was my best friend.” It felt awful saying was, and he hadn’t exactly been able to confide in wild-eyed despondent Dom Cobb, so it was the first time he had said it out loud to someone. He forced the words out anyway. “She was my best friend, and now she’s gone.”

Eames just watched him, eyes creased and all fight gone, looking almost tender. Arthur almost couldn’t stand it. “So you see,” he said, but didn’t know how to finish his sentence.

“So I see,” Eames said anyway.

In the long silence that ensued Lily, perhaps sensing that there was something wrong, started fussing. Eames came around and put bowls on the table. Arthur’s stomach rumbled; he still felt slightly sick. Eames sat beside Lily, opposite Arthur, and started feeding her, talking to her in low, soothing tones. “Sweetheart,” he was saying, “no really, it’s okay, drink this soup, I slaved over it. I learned this recipe from your grandmother, you know. I know you prefer your dad feeding you but he’ll be back soon and for now you’ve got me and my woefully inadequate soup. Sorry about that. Look, Arthur’s eating too.”

Arthur put a spoon to his mouth automatically. But the soup was good and warm and hearty, chicken broth that made him want more. After a while he took another spoonful.

“There, there,” Eames said, “Arthur’s eating too. And he likes it.”

“I like it,” Arthur admitted.

“Look, Lily-girl, your Uncle Will’s done it again,” Eames said. He was talking to Lily still, but his voice was calm and steady, his words nonsensical, glances thrown Arthur’s way as if he was trying to soothe him as well. “Really, Lily, is there anything I can’t do? I’m going to teach you all I know, too, don’t worry. Pick a lock and everything, but don’t tell your mother.”

“Pick a lock,” Lily repeated perfectly.

“Aw, Lil,” Eames said. “What did I just say?”

Arthur wished he didn’t feel better. Eames not pushing, Eames just there, Eames who had cooked him dinner. Eames who was being soothing and sweet, Eames who knew how to love a child, Eames who was being unfailingly patient with him. If he didn’t feel better, then Eames wouldn’t be able to infiltrate his defences like this.

~~~

In his hotel room Arthur called Cobb. London was eight hours ahead, so Cobb sounded chirpy when he asked, “Arthur? What’s wrong?” Voices shrieked in the background.

“Nothing. Eames is finishing up with some work. We’ll be there in about three weeks,” Arthur said.

“That’s fine,” Cobb said. “I told you it wasn’t a rush. Did you call to talk to the kids?”

Arthur hadn’t really, but he found himself saying “Yeah, yeah.” Cobb shouted into the distance, “Arthur’s on the phone!”

James got on first. “Uncle Arthur!” he said. “When are you coming back?”

“Very soon, buddy,” said Arthur. James told him about the Lego set he’d just gotten, and the new kite, and the telescope set. Privately Arthur thought Cobb was spoiling them slightly too much–Mal would never have stood for it–but he supposed as Cobb hadn’t seen them in a year, it was fine.

“It’s my turn!” Philippa was saying from some distance away.

“Bye Uncle Arthur,” James said quickly. “Come back soon.”

“Very soon,” Arthur promised again. Philippa came on. “Uncle Arthur,” she said. “I miss you.”

Arthur loved these children, not only because of Mal, but because he loved these children. He had rocked them both to sleep. James had banged his knee up for the first time and wailed “Uncle Arthur!”, high and pained. Philippa had taken her first steps toward Mal, but then she’d turned unsteadily towards him.

It had been hard for Arthur to visit them over the past year: he admitted this to himself now. Philippa had Cobb’s rare wide sunny smile but she also had Mal’s eyes, her way of tucking her hair back behind her ear. James accidentally spoke French sometimes because Mal had communicated with them almost exclusively in it. When Arthur had visited, he had had to turn away from them a lot so they wouldn’t see his face. It was easier not to visit.

“I miss you, Phil,” he found himself saying. “I’ll see you in about three weeks, I promise.”

“Dad is being weird,” she complained. “He keeps giving us stuff.”

“Shouldn’t turn your nose up at free stuff,” Arthur said.

“He got me a Barbie!” she said. “I’m seven.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Arthur assured her.

She told him about school and her friends and Marie, who dropped by at unexpected times to suspiciously check on Cobb’s parenting skills. Arthur sympathised with her over a particularly strict teacher, told her that an argument with a friend would blow over, and laughed a little over Marie, who was fond of Arthur and still texted him time to time. He said goodbye and told her he loved her. He went to sleep thinking Mal, you did something right. Mal, they’re still here.

~~~

At eight the next morning Arthur called Eames.

“Arthur?” Eames rumbled, voice sleep-rough. “Arthur,” he said, going from sleepy to worried, “are you alright?”

“People keep asking me that,” Arthur said. “Have I not been alright?”

Eames chuckled, warm, in his ear. “Not really, darling,” he said.

“Well,” Arthur said. “I was just wondering if you would like to go out today.”

“Where?” asked Eames.

Arthur had done some research. Eames probably knew this place, but Arthur wanted to take him to it. He sent Eames the location.

“Okay,” said Eames, his voice giving nothing away. “I’ll be there.”

Arthur knew Eames, with all his artist’s soul, loved poetry. Arthur knew that once in a run-through Eames had dreamt up the sea, drifting in a little boat, book in his hand while Arthur had waited out Cobb in another level. Arthur had seen the painting Eames liked in the Tate.

Arthur knew this wasn’t close, but he turned up at the canal at two. Eames was already there, inscrutable under his shades, wearing a bright pink shirt with palm trees on it, loose pants that were probably only held up with suspenders and luck. “What is this place, darling?” he asked.

“It’s a small library on a boat,” Arthur said, shrugging. “A community thing. I thought you’d like to read, maybe. Later there’ll be kids from school. But it’s quiet in the mornings and afternoons, it’s out of the way.” On the boat there was a wooden platform with sunchairs and pillows, to read. The sun streamed wispily down on them.

“Hmm,” Eames said. He ducked into the boat. Arthur waited, listening to the animated voices inside: Eames and the woman who owned the little library.

Fifteen minutes later he came out, shades off and with a slim blue book in his hand. He was grinning. “Arthur,” he said, “do you know what they have?” Arthur didn’t get to know what they had, because Eames leapt onto the platform and threw himself down onto the platform, sliding a cushion under his head. He opened the book up.

Arthur ducked inside the boat and smiled at the woman. Books littered the counter, the shelves, the carpet, her arms; books clearly well-beloved and well taken care of. He spent his time selecting something familiar, smiling at Khadijah–her tag read–when she said, nodding at his choice of book, “Classic.”

Settling down in the deck chair beside Eames and looking out at the canal, Arthur observed the trees in the park on one canal bank, and back gardens of houses on the other. His gaze drifted down. Eames was so still and heavy-lidded Arthur would have thought he was asleep, if it hadn’t been turning a page every so often.

He looked calm, peaceful. He did not look lonely. Arthur looked down at his own book.

And wishes, had he any?

Just his sigh, accented,

Had been legible to me.

And was he confident until

Ill fluttered out in everlasting well?

Out of the corner of his eye, Eames placed his slim volume of poetry down on his chest. “Do you want to hear a bit of it?” he asked.

“Sure,” Arthur said.

Eames picked it up again and began to read, voice low like a secret.

“If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,

don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty

of lives and whole towns destroyed or about

to be. We are not wise, and not very often

kind. And much can never be redeemed.”

He did hesitate then, looking up at Arthur, something indecipherable in his eyes. Arthur kept still, head slightly turned toward him.

“Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this

is its way of fighting back, that sometimes

something happens better than all the riches

or power in the world. It could be anything,

but very likely you notice it in the instant…”

Eames took a breath and continued steadily, “In the instant

when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case.

Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid

of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.”

Eames stopped reading. A moment later, he turned the page, eyes still firmly on the book.

The sky above him was clear and he looked so safe and solid, his large hands steady, his jaw so well-cut. He looked painfully handsome, lying there like a figure in a painting, one of the classics lovingly rendered. He’d waited for Arthur and he was waiting more, patient with it and letting Arthur come to him.

“Eames,” Arthur said, rough.

“Arthur,” Eames said gently. “It’s really all right.”

Arthur was afraid. He knew he was. He wanted to be. Joy would never be a crumb for him. When he allowed himself to love Eames he would do it fully and completely. This was a scary, scary thing. The call in the middle of the night, the things the people you loved could leave behind. Arthur knew the real fact of the matter was that even so, it was too late for him.

Eames’s phone rang.

Arthur wondered why this kept happening.

“Rosie,” he said, getting to his feet. “Okay, okay, okay, calm down and give me fifteen.” To Arthur he shot a wry look, the moment between them quietly broken, and said, “This could finally be it.”

~~~

It was it. Eames called an hour later to inform Arthur these were real contractions, not just fancily named ones. Lily was louder today, sucking her thumb and saying “Ar-fur,” tottering over to be picked up, as if she was already worried that attention from grownups would now irrevocably be split between her and a new sibling.

Arthur made her dinner and let her watch another episode of Creatures of the Sea. She watched the goblin shark with a measure of fascination, Arthur narrowing his eyes at the creepy looking creature, and then Arthur put her to bed. Beside the bed sat a copy of Frog and Toad Are Friends, which Arthur picked up and read to her. Outside, the evening drew on, and Arthur’s voice grew hoarse. He wanted to finish the story anyway.

“Toad was very pleased to have it,” he concluded finally, and realised she was asleep. He smiled slightly, pulling up the blankets around her, feeling intensely fond. Switching off the lights he said, “Night, Lily.”

He was tired too, only realising it after having settled on the sofa and yawning, loud and satisfying. Between one moment and the next, he had fallen asleep.

At around six am his phone rang. “He’s here!” Eames announced. “Healthy as anything and crying like–well, he’s crying like a baby. Rosie’s good, she’s sleeping. You and Lily can come in a couple of hours. Darling, wait till you meet him. He’s perfect.”

He sounded like Cobb, calling Arthur up once, then twice a couple of years later. The pride in his voice. Mal, on the phone next, exhausted but chattering to Arthur about Phil’s little thumbs and her little toes, James’s wrinkled pink smile. Arthur hadn’t been there for either of their births, had been off working, but he’d been there for Philippa’s first steps, there when James had fallen down. His best friend was gone, but Arthur would always have that.

“I’m sure you think he is,” Arthur said. “He’s named after you, isn’t he?”

“Darling,” Eames said, sounding wildly delighted that Arthur was flirting back.

“We’ll be there in a couple of hours,” Arthur told him. He put down the phone and couldn’t stop smiling.

~~~

There were nerves in the pit of his stomach. It was like he’d made a decision, or like the decision had been made for him. Eames laying gently back, his large hands holding the little book, reading low and smooth, everything Arthur could now admit to himself he had wanted to come home to for some time now. The sun in his hair and his eyes lovely as the sea. Whatever happened, Arthur would have had this.

Lily woke fretting about Rosie, but was quickly calmed when Arthur informed her they were going to see her mother and her little brother. “Wew,” she tried out, tugging on her shoes.

“Yes, Lily, Wew,” Arthur said, bundling her safely into Rosie’s car.

They reached the hospital and Eames was waiting for them outside. His hair looked sort of greasy, sort of like he’d run his hands through it many times. He looked like he hadn’t slept. Arthur kind of wanted to kiss him, and thought perhaps he might.

He stopped short when Eames said, “My parents are here.” He looked wry. “They thought they couldn’t make it, but they got here hours early. Anyway, they just arrived. Heads up.”

That was all the warning Arthur got before the doors opened again and two people Arthur assumed were Eames’s parents came hurrying out. Robert Walliams was short and pleasant-faced, smiling, and Cora Walliams was taller, still golden-haired, assessing Arthur and Lily with a look in her eyes Arthur would almost describe as shrewd. They stopped short when they reached Eames.

“This is Arthur,” Eames said very formally, but he raised an eyebrow at Arthur like he was amused. “Arthur, this is my mum and dad.”

“Arthur,” Robert said affably. Cora said, “Thank you for taking care of Lily, Arthur.”

“It was great, she’s lovely,” Arthur said, setting Lily down so she could toddle up to her grandparents.

“You work with Arthur, son?” Robert asked, sounding very British and dad-like. He reached forward with a hand.

Arthur nodded, taking it. “On and off,” he said, feeling strangely nervous.

“Will’s has never brought a friend back before,” Cora said, sounding very like Rosie, looking at Arthur with Eames’s gimlet-eyed gaze.

“Can’t use that name anymore,” Eames said, “now that Rosie’s stolen it for baby William.”

“But you’ll always be the first William, dear,” Cora said reassuringly. Eames sighed. “Anyway, Arthur,” she said, placing her arm in his. “Where are you from?”

She kept up a steady stream of conversation as they re-entered the hospital, all the way up to Rosie’s room, whereupon she started cooing over her grandson. Lily ran to her mother. Arthur, slightly stunned, realised she had coaxed out of him how many siblings he had, his mother’s career, and how he felt about London (and probably also how he felt about Eames). He realised quite suddenly this was where Eames had begun to learn to wheedle information out of people. Exchanging a look with Eames, who looked slightly apologetic, he approached Rosie’s side.

Rosie, flushed and tired and triumphant, handed baby William over to him.

“Isn’t he perfectly darling?” she asked.

“Very,” Arthur agreed, because baby William lay sleeping and red-faced in his arms, indeed perfectly darling.

“And you’ll come back and visit him of course,” Rosie said, looking up at him.

“Of course,” he promised.

“Eames will make sure of it,” said Cora, perfectly sure herself.

“Only if Arthur wants,” Eames said patiently.

Cora smiled over at Arthur like she could see ten years into the future. “Arthur’s smart,” she said. “He knows good things are worth keeping.”

Then Charlie, Rosie’s husband, arrived in a bustle of wild hair and riotous happiness, and Lily started crying at the sight of this interloper of a brother taking up her father’s attention, and everything became very bustling and extremely chaotic.

Arthur backed away a bit, into the waiting room, to give them some space. He waited there a little while with the magazines before Eames came out.

“Sorry about my mother,” he said, joining Arthur by the water cooler.

“She’s very like you,” Arthur told him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Arthur,” Eames said, abruptly, turning towards him, “everyone’s here. So they don’t need me. I’ll probably stay a few more days, but we can go do the job soon.”

“The job,” Arthur repeated blankly.

Eames frowned. “The one you came all the way here for. Arthur, I know I’ve brought you around and… tried to woo you…” He stood up, restless.

“Tried to woo me,” Arthur repeated. “Woo me.”

“Woo you, court you, take you around town.” Eames tilted his head, caught Arthur’s eyes. The hospital noises around them faded into the background. Earnest, tender, Eames said, “But I know it’s been hard. I didn’t mean to pressure you, darling. I know you’ve been grieving. We can do the job. You can take all the time you need.”

“Ah,” Arthur said. They would go do the job in a few days. Then what? Would they fall back into that pattern, bickering and push-and-pull, glances at Eames’s back and a sandwich just the way he liked it on his desk, checking on whether he was alive from across the world? He tried to summon the bravery he’d felt on the way to the hospital.

“Darling, it’s okay,” Eames said uncertainly, watching him again. Lower, like a secret, he said, “I really can wait.”

Arthur knew he could wait. He had waited. He could read the truth in the questioning bow of Eames’s bottom lip: he would wait. But if you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. It flooded into Arthur's stomach, his lungs, his heart. Mal, you’re gone, but look at me, I’m still here. You’re gone and you’ll never see how happy I will be but it’s enough that I know what you’d say because I knew you so well. It’s enough that your children live and I love them. You love and you lose. You love again.

“Well I can’t,” Arthur said, so he took Eames’s lovely, surprised face into his hands, giving into his eyes, an endless sky and an unending river. He reached up to kiss him.

~~~

“I have a confession,” Arthur said, “This job… it’s a favour to Cobb.”

Eames kept his gaze on him. “Oh,” he said. “Another of Dominic Cobb’s messes.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said.

“Are you?” Eames said consideringly. He leaned in slowly closer, murmuring it into the shell of Arthur’s ear. “How sorry? Will you make it up to me?”

Arthur leaned back. “You knew,” he said accusingly.

“I suspected, so I asked him,” Eames said, grinning. “So you’ve been manipulating me all this time. All of this has just been because Cobb owed someone and you feel you owe Cobb.”

“Not all of it,” Arthur said. “Not all of it.”

Behind Eames the sky, pinkish blues, was turning into morning. They were only a matter of hours away from LA and it felt like it, felt like hovering over wide plains and wider homes. Arthur had a hotel room booked for them. It was old in a way that suggested comfort, slightly faded carpets but wood paneling to die for.

He had a hotel room booked and James to fly a kite with, Phil to listen to intently as she grew up quicker than he entirely liked. Eames would teach her how to pick a lock. When the job was done maybe they’d go back to see Lily and Will and Rosie for a bit.

“I haven’t seen much of LA, you know, darling,” Eames said, nuzzling behind his ear. He was lying, but Arthur smiled anyway. “I could use a tour guide.”

~~~

To Know Just How He Suffered Would Be Dear, Emily Dickinson

Don’t Hesitate, Mary Oliver

Frog and Toad Are Friends, Arnold Lobel

[my-major-is-k-howard]

Screaming Color

Happy New Year, everyone!! I thought I’d start 2021 off right with my last Parrlyn soulmate AU one shot. Thank you all for getting me through 2020. I appreciate and love all of you and hope that this year is a WAY better year for you. You deserve it! And as always, I hope you enjoy this one shot!! 💙💚

Word Count: 4388

———————————————————————

Anne shifted impatiently on her bed as she watched Kat closely observe each color on her eye shadow palette, indecisive on which one she should apply to her restless subject.

“Kat, I don’t have all day,” Anne complained as she looked down to Kat’s palette. To Anne, they were just a mix of lighter greys and darker greys, a sign that she still had yet to find her soulmate.

Anne thought briefly about the moment she would meet her soulmate and her monochromatic world would slowly turn into one of color. She longed to experience the wonderful sight of color that Kat had tried describing to her. Despite her best efforts, Anne still struggled to imagine what color was actually like. Though, Kat’s overt excitement while explaining the different shades and sights made Anne bubble with anticipation at the thought of sharing that first colored glance with her soulmate.

“We’re going to brunch with Anna,” Kat muttered absentmindedly. “We could literally have all day, if we wanted.”

“But you always spend so much time picking colors!” Anne whined as Kat finally picked one of the lighter greys to apply.

“I want to make sure those green eyes of yours pop if you happen to meet your soulmate today,” Kat replied as she began working on Anne’s makeup.

Anne paused for a moment to think about what Kat had said. “What is green like?” Anne asked dreamily after a few moments. She had asked this question countless times before but she never got tired of Kat’s answer.

“Green is like a gentle stroll in the park, surrounded by nature. It’s peaceful and quiet, like the feeling you get when someone truly knows you,” Kat answered as she moved from Anne’s left eye to her right. “At least, that’s what I think of when I see green. It reminds me of you. Because your eyes are the prettiest shade of green I’ve ever seen.”

“You and Anna are so lucky,” Anne whispered. “You met each other in elementary school. And I’m stuck here wondering if I’ll ever meet my soulmate.” Anne sighed despondently at the thought.

“You will, Anne!” Kat exclaimed. “And they’ll be the most amazing person ever!”

“I hope so,” Anne responded, silently dreaming about her soulmate as Kat finished doing her makeup.

~~~

Cathy grunted quietly to herself as she heard the front door of her apartment swing open. The two voices chattering to each other cut through Cathy’s concentration, causing her to stop halfway through writing her sentence. She set down her pen with a huff as she threw her head back in frustration.

This had become Cathy’s new normal, much to her distaste. After her roommate Catalina had found her soulmate early last month, the two lovebirds had become practically inseparable. They had spent the majority of their time together, enjoying the new sights and sensations that came as new soulmates bonded. And, all the while, Cathy had never felt more alone in the world.

Of course, Cathy felt guilty about her emotions but she couldn’t help feeling irritated when she saw Catalina with Jane. Cathy was sure Jane was a lovely woman but it stung when she remembered that she had been completely replaced by her.

It used to be Cathy that Catalina would sit and watch movies with. It used to be Cathy that Catalina would tell all of her thoughts to. It used to be Cathy that Catalina would want to spend time with. Now, Cathy had been reduced to a passing shadow in the background of Catalina’s life.

Cathy shook her head to clear her mind of those depressing thoughts. She shouldn’t be blaming Catalina for how lonely she felt. Deep down, Cathy knew she was just longing to have a connection with someone like Catalina had with Jane. She wanted to spend an endless amount of hours talking and laughing with someone that gave her butterflies. She wanted to experience color for the first time with her special someone and watch as her greyscale world slowly came to life. She wanted to find her soulmate.

The sound of giggles broke Cathy out of her thoughts, as she looked down at her journal with a sad expression. She wouldn’t be able to focus enough to write with all of the background noise coming from the living room. So instead, Cathy decided to leave the apartment altogether and head to her happy place: the library.

In a hurry, Cathy threw on her favorite hoodie before grabbing her phone and keys off her desk. She hoped that she would be able to get past the living room and out the front door without any awkward conversations.

Of course, luck was never on her side. A few paces before Cathy reached the door, Catalina noticed her. “Hey Cathy! Where are you going?”

“The library,” Cathy grunted as she reluctantly turned to face the couple that was cuddled up on the couch. Cathy did her best to refrain from wincing visibly at the sight.

“Hey!” Jane’s sickenly sweet tone made Cathy narrow her eyes skeptically. “I like your jacket!”

“Yeah! It’s blue,” Catalina said excitedly, which only added insult to injury. It was bad enough that Catalina had seemingly forgotten about Cathy in the past month but jabbing at her inability to see colors yet was a step too far.

“You know I can’t see color, Catalina!” Cathy finally snapped. “But thanks for rubbing it in my face that you can!”

“Cathy, I didn’t mean it like-” Catalina’s frantic response was cut off by Cathy slamming the door on her way out of the apartment. As she walked down the stairs, Cathy was overcome by guilt for acting out of anger and lashing out at Catalina. She almost turned back to apologize but decided against it, knowing it would be best for each of them to have their own space for a while before talking it out.

With that reasoning in mind, Cathy exited the building and rushed off to the library, hoping to find some solace among the endless shelves of books. Even if her sight was in black-and-white, she could always paint a vibrant picture in her head of the stories held within the bindings of a good book.

~~~

Anne turned off her motorcycle as she pulled into one of the spots in front of their favorite restaurant. She looked around the outdoor seating to see if Anna had arrived before them. Much to her surprise, she found Kat’s soulmate sitting at one of the tables with a menu in her hands.

“She’s actually on time for once,” Anne mused as she took off her helmet and slid off her motorcycle.

“I told her that she would make me sad if she turned our brunch into a lunch again,” Kat piped up from beside Anne as they approached the table.

“Did you give her your puppy dog eyes?” Anne asked and received a devilish smile in return.

“You bet I did!” Kat answered as Anne laughed and nudged her cousin’s shoulder affectionately.

“I taught you well,” Anne responded, winking at Kat with a smile on her face. “I’m so proud of your progress.”

Kat giggled before walking up behind Anna’s chair and covering her soulmate’s eyes with her hands. “Guess who it is!”

Anna paused for a moment, pretending to be deep in thought. “I think it might be my beautiful soulmate who also has extremely soft hands. Or her obnoxiously loud cousin.”

“Rude!” Anne scoffed jokingly at the last comment directed at her as she took a seat in the chair across from Anna.

“It’s me!” Kat exclaimed excitedly as she popped her head next to Anna’s. In turn, Anna smiled at her lovingly before pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

Anne watched the small exchange with a longing expression on her face. She couldn’t be more happy that her cousin had a perfect soulmate. It seemed like they were made for each other and Anne knew for a fact that nobody made Kat happier than Anna did.

Yet, seeing her interact with Anna made her heart drop slightly in her chest. Anne longed to share small moments like the one she had just witnessed with her own soulmate. She wanted to hug and kiss them, cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie together, and even invite them to brunch with Kat and Anna so that Anne would finally feel less alone. More than anything, she wanted to find her soulmate.

“Earth to Anne!” Anna’s exclamation snapped Anne suddenly out of her thoughts.

“Sorry! I got distracted,” Anne mumbled out as an apology.

“No worries! We were wondering if you were ready to order,” Kat chimed in.

Anne briefly looked down at the menu in front of her before nodding her head. She practically had the thing memorized after so many visits to this spot. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Not long after, the trio ordered their food and settled into casual conversation. They talked and laughed together until their waitress set down their plates and they began eating in silence.

After a few minutes of quiet, Kat piped up and said, “Anne, I can’t wait until you meet your soulmate!”

“What… what makes you say that?” Anne asked, caught off guard by Kat’s sudden confession.

“She wants you to start doing your own makeup,” Anna joked before Kat smacked her lightly on the arm. “Ow!”

“No, I love doing your makeup!” Kat exclaimed. “But brunch would be so much better if there were four of us.” Kat gestured to the empty chair in front of her, the perfect place for Anne’s soulmate to sit. Anne turned to look at the chair with a small smile on her face, imagining a near future where she could hold hands with her soulmate under the table as they ate brunch with Kat and Anna.

Anne was about to respond when something in the crowded sidewalk caught her eye. Her attention shifted completely away from her brunchmates as she turned to get a better look at what it was. She gawked as she saw the sight of a pretty woman rushing past their table, wearing something… colorful.

Anne suddenly pushed back her chair and stood up, turning around as she watched her soulmate run further down the street. “T-that was…” Anne stuttered as she turned back to Kat and Anna, who each had wide grins on their faces. “... color.”

“Go get ‘em!” Kat cheered and motioned for Anne to leave. Anne smiled back at her before quickly taking off in the direction her soulmate had gone.

After a moment of stunned silence, Anna spoke up. “I think you just summoned her soulmate, Kat.”

“Yes. I did,” Kat replied and lifted her head in pride. “I take full credit.”

“Do you think Anne is going to finish that?” Anna asked and gestured to her half-eaten plate of food.

“Probably not,” Kat answered and watched as Anna scooped the leftover food onto her own plate. She looked back up in the direction her cousin had gone in pursuit of her soulmate before continuing. “I doubt she'll be back any time soon.”

~~~

Cathy pushed open the library door with a huff before a sudden calm washed over her. The library atmosphere instantly soothed Cathy’s temperament as it brought back the many good memories she had made while reading her favorite classics.

Before Cathy could think about where she was going, her feet led her to the shelves holding the literary classics out of habit. As she browsed the different titles in search of a new one to read, Cathy felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulled it out and sighed when she saw several messages from Catalina asking where she was and apologizing profusely for her earlier behavior.

Cathy quickly grabbed a random book from the shelf before walking over to the seating area and picking a spot to sit away from the others who were reading. As she sat down, she slid the book on the table and began messaging Catalina, letting her know that she was at the library and also apologized for her sudden outburst. Cathy knew that they would still have to talk about why it had happened but for now it was nice to simply be forgiven.

After letting Catalina know she would be home in a few hours, Cathy slid her phone back in her pocket and turned to see which book she had grabbed from the shelf. A scowl passed over Cathy’s face as she let out a frustrated sigh. Sitting on the table was a hardback copy of “Romeo and Juliet,” one Cathy’s least favorite books.

The title seemed to mock Cathy, reminding her of the soulmate she still had yet to find. The first time Cathy read the book, she had been enamored by the love that Romeo and Juliet had for each other until she realized how disastrous their choices turned out to be for themselves and their families. Their love had been selfish and brash, a complete opposite of what Cathy hoped for herself and her future soulmate.

With those thoughts swirling in her head, Cathy slid the book away from her and resolved to find a new one when a voice spoke up beside her. “I’m not much of a fan of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ either.”

“Finally someone agrees! I think it’s a terrible portrayal of love for teens to read, especially when considering how much society has evolved since Shakespeare’s time and-” Cathy’s flow of words suddenly stopped as she turned to look at the person standing beside her chair. Her breath caught in her throat and for the first time in her life, Cathy was truly at a loss for words. Because nothing could describe the sight of the stranger’s eyes, glistening in a new shade that Cathy had never seen before.

She was utterly speechless as she stared in shock, suddenly realizing that the beautiful woman she was staring up at was her long-awaited soulmate. The girl shuffled nervously before flashing Cathy a quick smile. “I- um- can I sit with you?” Cathy’s soulmate stuttered as she gestured to the empty chair across from her own.

“Yeah, absolutely!” Cathy exclaimed eagerly as she broke out of her daze. She watched as the woman took a seat and looked back at her with curious eyes, causing her eyes to sparkle even more brightly than before. Cathy looked down shyly, almost unable to bear the intensity of the color in them.

“I’m Anne Boleyn. And I guess we’re soulmates,” Anne said with a nervous chuckle.

Cathy gave Anne a warm smile before introducing herself. “My name’s Catherine Parr. But most people just call me Cathy.”

“I like your jacket, Cathy,” Anne complimented. “Do you happen to know what color it is? Because it’s the first color I can see.”

In that instant, Cathy was incredibly grateful for Catalina and vowed to not only apologize profusely to her when she got home but also treat her to a nice dinner to show her gratitude for telling her the color of her jacket before she left. “My friend said it was blue,” Cathy replied as she looked down at her sleeve. The faintest hues were starting to seep into the fabric, though they were still too faint to differentiate from the grey the jacket was before.

“Blue,” Anne whispered to herself. “I like blue.”

“Anne, your eyes…” Cathy couldn’t even finish her sentence as she became enraptured once again by the beautiful colors in Anne’s irises.

“Oh, yeah! My cousin says they’re green,” Anne mentioned, proud of herself that she remembered the color.

“Green is beautiful,” Cathy said and admired the way Anne’s eyes lit up at the compliment.

“You’re beautiful,” Anne blurted out before ducking her head in embarrassment. Cathy blushed at the sudden praise and reached across the table to take Anne’s hand in her own.

“That’s really sweet, Anne,” Cathy nearly whispered as she gave Anne a soft smile. Anne returned Cathy’s smile with one of her own.

In that moment, Cathy felt the pang of loneliness she had carried around with her for so long finally dissipate into thin air. In its place, a small bud of love had sprouted for the woman sitting front of her, the same woman that also happened to be her soulmate. An elated feeling spread in Cathy’s chest at that thought. She couldn’t wait to get to know Anne better. She couldn’t wait to bond with her soulmate and live a life full of color with her. And she certainly couldn’t wait to fall in love with the green-eyed goddess sitting in front of her.

~~~

The two queens stayed in the library and talked with each other for quite a long time until eventually the librarian got tired of asking them to stay quiet and politely asked them to leave. Anne and Cathy apologized for being disruptive before leaving the library as they quietly giggled to themselves.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever been kicked out of a library,” Cathy commented as they walked hand-in-hand down the street.

“Oh, I’ve probably been blacklisted from every library in town for being too loud at this point,” Anne joked and nudged Cathy’s shoulder lightly. “Where are we off to next?”

“There’s a park not too far from here,” Cathy said with a question in her eyes. “I’d like to see it in color, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m more than okay with that, Cathy,” Anne responded and squeezed Cathy’s hand in reassurance. “I love spending time with you.”

Cathy looked up to Anne with a shy smile on her face. “I love spending time with you too. I know we haven’t known each other for that long but you’re my new favorite person.” Cathy bit her lip nervously at the confession, watching Anne’s response to see if she had gone too far.

Anne visibly lit up at Cathy’s words. “You’re my new favorite person too!” Anne exclaimed excitedly before taking a moment to pretend like she was pondering thoughtfully to herself. “It’s almost like we’re soulmates or something,” Anne joked, eliciting a small laugh from Cathy.

“Maybe it’s because we are soulmates,” Cathy said with a smile on her face. Anne took that opportunity to look at Cathy for a moment and admire how beautiful Cathy really was. A lively color had seeped into her skin in the past couple of hours, contrasting from the dull grey it was before, giving her an almost angelic glow in Anne’s eyes. Her smile literally lit up Anne’s world, making the colors that had appeared in her surroundings over time a little brighter than before. Cathy’s gentle touch made Anne crave every part of her, filling Anne’s mind with daydreams of them cuddling and kissing one another as Cathy led her to the nearby park.

Anne was broken out of her thoughts by Cathy gasping next to her. She looked around for a moment before having a similar reaction to Cathy. Anne stared in amazement at the beautiful park in front of her, practically glowing with a newfound life that Anne had never experienced before.

Anne tore her gaze away from the sight of the park to steal a quick glance at Cathy. She smiled subconsciously as she watched Cathy look around, taking in every new color and committing it to memory. After a brief moment, Cathy turned to look at Anne and they shared a smile.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Anne exclaimed excitedly and pulled Cathy towards the entrance of the park. Cathy eagerly followed her, sharing in Anne’s excitement to experience their first walk in the park together in color.

The new soulmates spent most of their early afternoon roaming along the park’s walkways, admiring their surroundings as the colors around them became more vibrant and lively. They chatted as they walked, getting to know each other better as they exchanged interests and a few laughs as well.

Anne felt so at peace in the world, relishing in the park’s atmosphere and bright colors as she brushed shoulders gently with Cathy. There was no feeling like it. For the first time in her life, Anne felt truly whole. Of course, her upgraded eyesight was amazing but the real reason for her happiness was the beautiful girl beside her, the girl she was quickly falling in love with.

“Everything is so much more beautiful now,” Cathy breathed out as she scanned the park briefly, her eyes landing on Anne. “And it’s even better than everything in the park is also green.”

Anne tilted her head in confusion as she looked around at the trees and grass, noticing that their hue was the predominant color in the park. She looked back to Cathy. “You mean my eyes are the same color as the trees?” Anne asked, almost in disbelief.

Cathy nodded. “Though, your eyes are brighter than the leaves.”

“Wow.” Anne was at a loss for words. Kat’s description of the color green came back to Anne’s mind and she suddenly understood what Kat had been trying to explain. Colors enhanced moments that would otherwise seem ordinary, making them all the more exciting and memorable. They helped make connections between memories and surroundings, similar to how Anne’s favorite color had quickly become blue because it reminded her of Cathy.

Cathy led Anne to a bench and they sat down next to each other. Cathy turned to Anne and brushed the hair that was covering her cheek behind her ear. Anne blushed at the gesture as Cathy brought her hand to rest on Anne's cheek. She leaned into the touch as Cathy softly stroked her cheek.

Slowly, the two of them leaned in for a kiss and Anne felt a million butterflies erupt in her stomach. When their lips touched, Anne felt her heart flutter in her chest and she was certain that she could spend the rest of her life kissing Cathy.

They parted after a few moments and Anne felt a small smile play on her lips as she watched Cathy look around in awe at the park that had suddenly become much more vibrant and alive than before.

“Do you think that happens every time?” Cathy asked as she looked back to Anne with an excited smile on her face.

“I think there’s only one way to find out,” Anne said with a smirk. Cathy raised an eyebrow before licking her lips and pulling Anne in for more kisses. Though Cathy didn’t look back at her surroundings after that, instead keeping her eyes closed and enjoying the sensation of Anne’s lips on her own.

Anne quickly lost track of time, too caught up in losing herself in Cathy’s arms and in their later conversation.

“Hey! I’m curious, Anne,” Cathy began after her giggles had ceased from Anne’s stories about her disastrous experiences while attempting to cook. “How did you find me? At the library, I mean.”

“Oh! I didn’t actually,” Anne replied. “I saw you run past the restaurant where I was eating and tried to catch up to you. But, you’re really fast! I saw you walk into the library and then it was only a matter of time until I found you.”

Cathy’s eyes flashed guiltily as she remembered why she had been speeding to the library. “Oh. Yeah, I was upset after a fight I had with my roommate. Going to the library helps me calm down.”

“Is everything okay between you too?” Anne asked as she rubbed Cathy’s shoulder, sensing her distress at the memory.

“Not… exactly,” Cathy managed to reply. “She found her soulmate recently as well and I felt like she replaced me in a way. I got angry with her and snapped at her before I left. We apologized to each other but I know we still have to talk it out when I get back.”

“I know how you feel. When my cousin and I moved in together, I felt like she was spending more time with her soulmate than with me,” Anne empathized. “I talked with her about how I was feeling and she made sure to include me more and have one-on-one time together after that. I know it’s pretty cliché but communication really is key.”

Cathy pondered over what Anne had said before a look of determination passed over her features. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go talk to her.” Cathy paused momentarily and looked back to see Anne’s proud smile. “Thank you, Anne.”

“No problem, Cathy,” Anne said, before a look of complete terror passed over her face. “I totally forgot I left my motorcycle at brunch!” Anne exclaimed as she dropped her head in her hands in embarrassment.

Cathy giggled at Anne’s dramatic reaction before saying, “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s walk back to your brunch spot and then I can walk back to my apartment to talk with Catalina.”

“Yeah okay,” Anne breathed out as she stood up, followed by Cathy. “I could drive you to your apartment, if you’d like.”

Cathy smiled at Anne’s offer. “That would be nice.” The soulmates smiled at each other before making their way to the small restaurant where Anne had first seen Cathy. Much to her relief, her motorcycle was still parked out front where she had left it. Kat and Anna were gone but Kat had placed Anne’s helmet on the seat of her motorcycle. Anne picked it up and handed it to Cathy for her to put on.

Anne turned the motorcycle on and felt it roar to life under her. Cathy slid behind Anne and wrapped her arms around Anne’s torso, causing Anne to smile widely at the action.

As Anne navigated the streets following Cathy’s instruction, she was overcome by how suddenly her life had changed. In the morning, she had been dreaming of what it would be like to have a soulmate and now she had hers pressed softly against her back. In the morning, Anne was longing for someone to fill the void of loneliness in her heart and now Anne’s heart was overflowing with love for the beautiful woman behind her. In the morning, Anne’s world had been in black-and-white and now it was in screaming color.

[3mmafr0st]

Remember Me Pt 4

Previous <------

Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: SMUT, angst, swearing, incarceration? and my shitty writing

A/N: Please comment or reblog, any feedback is amazing! 

The room was small, with an interrogation table in front of me, everything the same shade of muted grey I woke up here earlier, and had been waiting for someone, anyone to come in and give me some information. Tugging at the cuffs that pinned me down to the table, I struggled to break free. 

“Sorry, you’re not gonna be able to get out of those. They’re made for enhanced people.” My eyes immediately darted to find the sound, settling on a man walking through the door.

“It’s you, from the lab. Who are you, how do you know my name? Where’s Bucky?” The questions began spilling out of my mouth, desperate for some sort of answers as to what the hell is going on. The man pulled out the chair that sat across from me, a file of papers in his hands.

“My name is Bruce, and let’s start with how much you remember,” He said. The name felt familiar, and although I was fighting him off before, I knew that I could trust him for some reason. His face was kind, and his voice was low and calming.

“It’s bits and pieces, nothing before Hydra, although I wish I did know, how do you know me?” 

“Your name is Y/N Banner, a young scientific prodigy in quantum physics. According to records, you were the only one who was able to crack the secret of the Pym particle. You disappeared when you were nineteen years old after a college party, and no one had seen you since until now.” Banner, that was my last name, Banner. It had a nice ring to it, it felt powerful, strong. 

“How long has it been since then?” He takes a deep breath, contemplating whether he should tell me or not.

“It’s been thirty-seven years.” It felt like a punch to the gut, they stole that much time from me. They stole thirty seven years from my life. Rage began coarsing through my veins, I needed to expel this, now. I smashed my hands into the table, before letting out an annoyed “fuck” from the pain. My hands left a small dent in the metal table.

“I’m sorry about the table, it's just, when you find out 37 years have been stolen from you, its hard to control your anger.”

“I know the feeling, believe me.” His hand fell over mine, and his eyes met mine, and although it was cloudy, something bubbled to the surface.

“Hey Stats, do you think I could get a hand with this?” Bruce’s voice called through the house. I rounded out of my own room to the room next door, where Bruce sat on his bed, books spread across the sheets and papers in every direction. His eyes looked up to me, pleading for help.

“Okay kid, what’s going on?” 

“It’s this parabola problem, I’ve tried it like a billion times!” I laughed a little at his remark

“Bud, you and I both know that a billion is a bit of an overstatement. Let me see what we can do.” I saw the mistake immediately, a small computing error that he had been doing every single time. I circled the small mistake that had been throwing the whole problem off. He groaned loudly, letting out an annoyed “Really?” 

“It’s gonna be okay, it was just a little computing error is all, there’s nothing to worry about.” 

The two of us just sat, talking about school and stuff, how we were excited for the new school year. Bruce’s face fell, halfway through my sentence about the dorms.

“Bruce, what’s wrong?” He held his tongue for a moment, eyes beginning to get glassy.

“Why do you have to go away this year? Why can’t you just stay here, like regular?” I sighed. I knew he would react like this. I was finally 18, which meant legally, I could move out. Although I had completed most of my time in college at home already, I was going for my second doctorate and I wanted to finally have the chance to have the normal college experience, or at least as close to it as I could get. I needed to be an adult for once, be seen as an adult and not the child prodigy that I had always been seen as. 

“Buddy, you know I want to be with you, hell, I’d bring you with me if I could, but they don’t allow 8 year olds in college dorms. I need to be an adult now, and I can’t do that staying home.” His eyes began to water, and I opened my arms out to him.  “Come here, buddy.” 

Bruce cried like that for a half an hour, as I held the small boy in his sadness, until he began to drift off to sleep.

“You’re the boy?” I said, looking at him. He definitely looked like the boy from my memory, but much older, with more lines on his face and a small scraggly bit of stubble, as if he had forgotten to shave, with a floppy curly mess on top, just like the boy had. 

“What boy?” He asked tentatively, his eyes telling the story of hesitation and hurt, like he was holding back hope in fear of his heart breaking another time. 

“There was a boy. I helped him with his math homework. He cried and I held him, his name was Bruce.” 

“You remember?”

“Im starting.”

“You ok?” Steve asked me, nudging my arm. His eyes looked down at me in concern but I reassured him. 

“I’m okay, Steve, I’ll be okay.”

“Tony couldn’t get us rooms next to each other, you’re on the fifth floor, I’m on the second.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Steve and I had grown to become pretty great friends since I got back. Steve and Bruce were the only ones that I felt safe enough around to talk to at the compound even from the beginning. I spent most of my time in the past few months either spending time with Bruce, and recovering my memories, or working with Steve to find Bucky. Spending my days going through mounds of papers and mission reports, to lunch dates working in the lab to help me regain that one and a half PhDs of information had been a daily occurrence and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Well, I would have it one other way. The only thing that would have made it better would be if Bucky was here with me. That’s why we were here, to find him and bring him home. We found a lead that told us he had been in Nevada for a while, specifically Vegas. We had booked a room at the hotel that he had been seen at.

As the elevator doors opened, Steve held the door open for me. “Get a good night’s sleep, we’ll get to work in the morning.”

“See ya in the morning, Steve.”  I told him, as the doors began to close, leaving me in the hallway of the fifth floor. It was nice of him to go with me all the way up the elevator. I walked the long and winding halls until I found the right number, room 2603. Swiping the small key card against the scanner, the door clicked open and I walked inside. The room was clean, and out of complete habit, I began scanning the room for bugs, checking around the room to make sure nothing was listening in. Once I sweeped the place, the bed began to call to me, and I abandoned my clothing, before getting myself into bed, only a comfy shirt and panties left clinging to my body. With all the work that we had been doing to find Bucky, it was nice to have a chance to at least try and get some rest. 

Bucky’s POV 

I had hoped that she would come. There wasn’t much that I remembered, not yet at least, but she was coming back to me. I didn’t know how I knew here, but she was important, I could feel it. I knew the other guy was there two, Steve, the one I knew a long time ago, but for some reason, I knew I needed to see her. The two of them were important to me, I just knew it. There was an abandoned building to the side of the hotel that they were staying at, and I could see into the window of her room. The lights were dark, as she slept comfortably in her bed. I knew I shouldn’t, but I had to get closer, to see her. The clear, glassless window that I sat at was a clear shot from the balcony of her room. 

Backing up from the edge, I took in a deep breath, calming my heart rate as I began running towards the opening. Pushing off the cement framing, I launched myself into the air, pushing myself forward even more until I felt my feet hit the cement of the balcony. 

I could see her in there, sleeping. Somewhere inside of my head I knew this whole thing was wrong, but I couldn’t seem to stay away from her. It was creepy, wrong, but she looked so peaceful and innocent. It was a familiar feeling, not being in control, but this was different. 

My head screamed out about how wrong this was, how disgusting I was being, while the rest of me was breaking the lock off of the door, walking into the room. The sound of the lock breaking and the door opening must have been too much sound, her body shot up in her bed, looking straight at me.

Reader POV

This has to be a dream, it couldn’t be anything else, a lucid dream that my brain had created to cope with the nightmares. There he stood, in the same room as me, dirty jacket and a baseball cap. His hair had gotten longer, like he hadnt been able to get it cut.

“Bucky?” My voice wavered with nerves and emotion, so scared that the man would disappear if I acknowledged that he’s here.

“You know me.” His voice was low and gruff, like he hadn’t had to use it in a while. I could feel my heart break. Although it was a statement and not a question. I could tell that he wasn’t all there, he didn’t remember me. Was this what Bruce felt like? Was this what it was like for him to see me, to know me, but the memory unreciprocated? A tear began to fall down my face, unable to control it.

“Yes, Buck, I know you.”

“Who are -“ he struggled to speak. “Who are you to me?” The knife that was already gutting me twisted into my stomach even more.

“Do you want to come closer?” I tried to keep calm as I spoke, not wanting to scare the man off. He was reluctant to come near me. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“In all fairness, that's not what I’m worried about, doll.” There was a flash of him, of my Bucky pushing through the fog to find me. I must have taken too long. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that, I-“

“Come here, please.” Hesitantly, he walked closer, but not close enough. Pulling the covers off of myself, I rose from the bed, walking to meet him in the middle.

“Who are you?” He was close, his breath fanning my face as I looked up at him.

“Can I show you?” He nodded, almost desperately, and I closed the gap between us, pushing myself into him and meeting my lips with his. At first he was shocked, not moving his lips against my own, but after a moment, it was as if pure instinct took over, as his mouth roughly kissed mine, pushing me back into the bed.

My back hit the covers, and I gasped out in surprise, giving Bucky the chance to deepen the kiss. Our tongues battled for dominance for a short while, but he won out in the end. I wrapped my fingers in his hair, tugging slightly. The man groaned out into my mouth, sending the feeling straight to my core. 

Fuck, it had been too long. His hands were on me, holding my waist down on the bed. I gasped out, feeling as his metal hand had found its way under my shirt, playing with the flesh, twisting and pinching at my nipple; My hips bucked up, rolling over his clothed dick, and he let out a louder moan.  I tested, rolling my hips over a few more times, before Bucky got impatient.

Bucky’s hand immediately trailed downward, slipping his hand past my panties. Two fingers pressed at my clit, and I cried out, hypersensitive after being away from him for so long. He was oddly silent, no clever quips or comments that I had been used to. I still couldn’t tell how much he really remembered. 

His fingers began to make rough and harsh circles on my clit, making my back curl up into his chest.

“Fuck, Bucky, please!” I cried out, absolutely wrecked just by his touch after so long away from him. Quickly, fingers moved downwards, circling my entrance before easing them into me. Eyes rolled into the back of my head as he found that spongy spot inside of me, curling his fingers over it. I could feel the tightened knot in my stomach threatening to snap.

“Buck-“ I cried out as he suddenly sped up, pushing his fingers in and out of me as fast as he could. Screaming out, the knot snapped, my vision going white as the tsunami like wave passed through my body. Bucky slowed down his fingers, working me through my orgasm until the feeling had passed.

The sound of his belt unbuckling was music to my ears, knowing what was coming. The anticipation was absolutely killing me, as I heard fabric shift, feeling the rough fabric of his jeans slide away, along with his boxers. My head threw back as he began to tease, running the tip of his dick up and down me, never getting quite near where I needed him most.

“Bucky please, fuck me,” I breathed out, barely able to catch my own breath. He began to line himself up with me, and then suddenly without warning, slammed his hips into me. “Holy fuck, Bucky!”

His fingers dug into my hips harshly, I hoped that it would leave bruises after. His hips pistoned into me fast and harsh, the man knew what he wanted and he was going to get it, and goddamn it felt fucking good. His lips claimed mine, swallowing the sounds coming from my throat. It was like he was everywhere, I could only feel him. 

It was all too overwhelming, and with little warning, my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I cried out for him, as his hips began to falter from his pace, getting closer and closer to his release. His dick twitched inside of me, and I felt as he spilled inside me, filling me up.

The sun began to creep through the window, waking me up. Confused, I got up from the hotel bed, I could have sworn that I had left the blinds shut when I fell asleep last night. I was pleasantly surprised with my own head last night. Normally, when my head hit the pillow, all I would see were the faces of the people I killed, reliving the awful memories that I have to deal with, but last night was different. I got to see Bucky. It was so real, his hands on my skin, his fingers and dick inside me. 

I examined the door, looking for a moment, and noticing the lock that had been crushed, pulled out, and sat on the balcony. I couldnt understand what happened, until I looked at my own body. Lifting up my shirt slightly, I could see the purple indentations of his fingertips, Bucky’s fingertips.

It hadn’t been a dream after all.