thinking soft childe thoughts again. this man truly does live rent free in my brain
falling in love with him, i think, would feel a lot like learning to walk with the knowledge that the space beside you is no longer empty.
there aren't any grand signs when you first meet: there is no moment of déjà vu, no sudden flurry of butterflies in your gut when you lock eyes for the first time, no hushed internal whispers of "have we met before?". there is no higher power guiding him when he approaches you and introduces himself, bright eyes and boyish grin on full display. there is no higher power guiding you when you test the feel of his name on your tongue and introduce yourself right back, cautious but curious of who and what he is. you're just two people who happened to be in the same space, at the same time, and that's how your story starts.
the days pass by like a warm reel of laughter with childe at your side. he's a wonderful friend; funny, charming, with a tendency to spoil you and insist even when you refuse because "this is what friends do! besides, i'm gonna eat your food anyway, so at least let me pay—". he's thoughtful and courteous, but he keeps your life exciting with all the mischief and stark joy he brings along with him. you know what he is, and though you don't completely know what his job entails, neither of you bring it up in the times you spend together. in the comfort of your company, he is not childe the harbinger or tartaglia, the waker of the deep. when he walks and fills the space beside you, he's just childe, your friend who raids your cupboards when he's feeling snacky and slips mora into your wallet when you're not looking. who wakes you up in the morning by knocking on the window right by your bed (instead of knocking on your door, you know, like a normal person). who goes on walks with you around the harbor to admire the sights and maybe work on his liyueren accent and vocabulary by conversing with you about anything and everything under the sun. who holds your hand like it's second nature, and matches the length of his strides to your own like he doesn't want either of you to ever be too far apart.
when your days pass like this, gradually getting to know the familiarity of his touch and presence in your life, falling in love isn't as daunting as it should be. the realization comes slowly to you though. it's when you find yourself tilting your head to whisper to the waiting ear beside you, when you stand and wait in an ever-moving crowd once you recognize the sound of his approach. it's when you set out two bowls instead of one at night and attach an assistive band to one pair of chopsticks because even after all this time, he still doesn't know how to use them.
falling in love with childe feels a lot like a gradual shift of colors in the ginkgo leaves of your homeland as the seasons pass by. he walks with you through the harbor often now, like a routine he can't give up. and while he admires the sights of liyue in the beauty of fall, you admire him.
it's in the glint of those golden leaves framing his fiery hair and blue eyes that you realize: "i've loved him for a while now, haven't i?"
i think that's how it all starts, honestly. you fall first, before you even realize, and your life suddenly becomes all the more colorful with the feelings you couldn't recognize before suddenly intermingling with the casual comfort he brings with him. it could open the door to something angsty, where you think your feelings are unreturned and try to cope, or maybe something soft and silly, where everyone can see just how much you like childe while he remains oblivious to your affections, but still sweet all the same.
in the end though, it wouldn't really matter if you really were the one who fell first. because childe, who saw you in that moment and took the first step to something bigger than he could've ever expected, would definitely be the one who fell harder.
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I know it’s been said before, but you spark so much joy with your headcanon & arthur/eames discussions 🥺 also! Still thinking of that pic of Tom Hardy in a muscle tee & other recent photos of him where he is lots of grey in his beard. Idk if you saw JGL at the ceremony where he presented rian Johnson with an award but he had a deep velvet plum suit on, a beard and his hair is long & wavy. & now I’m thinking about older eames/Arthur who are comfortable happy and still sickeningly in love
Nonnie!!!!!!! Thank you so much for stopping by, these asks always are so thought provoking and indulge me so much, I'm always happy to talk about Arthur/Eames and Inception in general!
Okay so, I had not seen that video and I am SO GLAD you brought it to my attention. JGL LOOKS SO FREAKING GOOD!!! THE SUIT!!! THE BEARD!!! THE CURLS!!!!!! Oh my god. If anyone has not seen the video check it out here you wont regret it.
And, you said it -- "Comfortable, happy and (still) sickeningly in love" is all I want for Arthur and Eames (and my life tbh). My headcanon is that they settle down and retire and while they still dabble in a little criminal action here and there (like being criminally sexy!!!) they live quieter lives a handful of years after the Fischer job. They love each other, right? They want to be safer because they want to build a life over building dreams, because life can be so short, you know, and I think in the film you learn just that--anything can happen at any given moment and you just...slow the hell down. Even when that means taking life in the slow lane and changing course - and so they do.
I imagine Arthur and Eames in their forties and fifties, teaching and consulting for work - Eames being disgusted every time he does his taxes and Arthur being disgusted with himself for wearing polo shirts in the summer and secretly loving it. They are starting to go grey, more grey with every handful of years - they are starting to go soft in places. There are crows eyes and forehead lines and heartburn and creaky bones. Diets to manage IBS and blood pressure. Worse, they start to do things their parents used to do -- like watch the news on TV and mutter into their dinner about idiot politicians and neighbours who park like dickheads on the street and wont trim their trees back out of their yard, and they reminisce about how things were different when they were kids and seriously why the fuck are they the only normal people who live on this street?
They keep busy. They learn new things. For his forty-fifth birthday Arthur builds Eames a library in their Philadelphia home with his bare hands. Eames buys the battered skeleton of a '67 Ford Mustang and restores it for Arthur. They read books and watch movies in bed and keep guns in their bedsides just in case. They go on long drives together and still sometimes travel the world to see old faces and so they still remember what it feels like to be homesick and miss the good life. Eames' knees play up. Arthurs back has seen better days. They're uncles to their siblings kids and to Phillipa and James. And they take that job very seriously.
They still have their domestics and spats every now and then. But they make up and move on. They're partners (in life and crime) and they get their thrills out of making the other happy. They're the people the other cannot wait to come home to.
They have always attempted to manufacture their own luck and they finally did it because here they are, content and happy.
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